#very casually and lightly writing his character so i think yeah as i said rich dad who's had a lot of wives | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

constant-creative-chaos · 3 years

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Dancing with mha characters

part 1 - part 2 - part 3

kiri would ask you out of the blue, you two would probably be hanging out in his dorm one night and he’d just ask

like “baby, dance with me? 🥺”

he’d have his arms around you’re waist ofc, and he’d lay your head against his chest so you can hear his heart beat

he isn’t a good dancer but it’s all good, as long as you’re happy then he’s happy to dance with you

he wouldn’t do much other than sway, considering his poor skills

but he’d definetly him along to the songs

speaking of the songs, he’d probably play really cheesy love songs because he’s like that

laughs everytime either he or you messes up, he finds it amusing

ends up goofing off more towards the end

rating: 100/10, in conclusion, i love kirishima

you sat on kirishima’s bed, stretched out comfortably. your back against his headboard and his head in your lap, your fingers scratching gently against his scalp. he hummed along to the music playing, some song made a few years ago.

the song changed and he looked up at you, excitement flickering in his eyes, “baby, wanna dance with me?”

you stopped scratching his scalp for a moment, thinking about it. you smiled and nodded.

“yeah, i do, kiri,”

you’d have to ask him, like a lot

be persistent!!

it’s not that he doesn’t want to dance with you

it’s just that he has no fucking clue how to dance and doesn’t want to embarrass himself

he’s just s u c h a great dancer and doesn’t want to make you feel bad about your skills

no but he’s struggling,, he has no idea what he’s doing

“katsuki, just put your hands on-” “tch, i know what i’m doing dumbass”

he figures it out eventually, he had one had on your hip and the other holding yours

he buried his head in your neck so you don’t see his blush

he’s practically silent, only speaking to make a remark when you trip

he actually finds it really endearing

rating: katsuki, marry me

“katsuki, you gotta take a break. it isn’t good for you to keep at it like this,” you said rubbing his shoulder.

“yeah and what else would i do?” he grumbled, pushing his hand further down the pencil.

bakugou had been working non-stop on homework since he’d returned to the dorms that day. he had yet to take a break and he needed it, and you were about to force him into relaxing for a bit if he spent another second writing.

a small sigh left him before reaching up and grabbing your hand on his shoulder. He rubbed small shapes with his thumb and apologized.

“if you dance with me then we’ll be even,”

“alright shitty-(feature),” he paused before looking up at you through his eyelashes, “you and dancing.”

boy oh boy, sero and you dance so often

he loves dancing with you and DAMN is he good at it

he’ll dance with you at any point in time, for any reason

he spins you a lot, he’ll even lift you a little if he’s feeling it

it’s super playful

he dips you all the time

baby has the moves and loves teaching you

he’ll dance to any song, especially if you’re with him

he’s always laughing either you or talking to you while you dance together

rating: 10000/10, dancing king, only seventeen 🎶

“Mi sol, when did you get so good at this?”

sero spun you wildly in the spot, twirling you under his hand. you laughed and tumbled into his chest, still seeing the room spin around you. sero pulled back slightly to see you and your unfocused eyes.

“beginners bad luck finally wore off, i guess!”

he smiled down at you, waiting for you to lose the dizzy feeling of turning like that. he enjoyed your smile while you watched the room. but the second you’re eyes focused again he was moving around the room with you again.

“you’d best not drop me, hanta-”

he’d take you out dancing

endeavour payed for dance lessons when he was a kid - he couldn’t have his prodigy dancing like an idiot

this is an endeavour hate page

he took formal dancing lessons and would 100% take a while to loosen up with you

but he holds you very delicately, with one hand on the small of you’re back and the other holding yours

as he loosens up and relaxes he holds you closer to him

and i mean this is shouto todoroki we’re talking about, he’s quiet the whole time

he just watches you with a small smile on his face, cute as fuck-

would teach you to ballroom dance at some point, if you didn’t know

rating: 15/10, he’s a rich boy, he knows his moves

“sho, this is wonderful,” you grinned at him, “really, i appreciate this.”

he returned the smile, taking your hand in his and pulling you forward on to the dance floor. you straightened your clothes out and took his lead. the two of you began moving around the room together, following the rhythme of the song playing.

“you know how to dance formally?” he asked, watching you move with grace.

“i have no clue what i’m doing, i’m just following you,”

you’d ask and he’d: “y-you want to- i mean i’m not a good dancer- are you sure?? why??”

he’s so nervous, just give him some reassurance and he’ll be fine

he is always making sure he isn’t making you uncomfortable

he’d let you pick the music or chose from your playlist

he’d hold you by the hips after asking a few times if that was okay

he isn’t the best but he picks it up pretty quickly

he probably asked iida for dance lessons after this

n e ways, he’d probably be red the whole time

rating: 12/10, his nervousness is actually really endearing

he put his hands on your hips and pulled you toward him, glancing up to make sure you weren’t uncomfortable. you wrapped your arms around his neck loosely, moving closer to him. you started swaying to the song playing and he followed your lead. the two of you starting to step around.

“are you sure you’re okay with this,” he tapped his fingers against your hip.

you hummed and rested your head on his shoulder, finding dancing with him comforting, “ ‘s okay, izuku. i promise.”

he kissed you on the crown of your head and continued moving to the music. he started relaxing and fully taking in the moment.

tenya iida, my main man,, he also got dance lessons when he was younger

fuckin rich boy

he short circuited when you asked, just give him a moment

he was probably super excited but kept it under control

he almost certainly played some sort of ballroom music (does that make sense??)

mans full on waltzed with you-

but he’d also do a more casual dance if you wanted

he held you small of your back and waist, he’s very careful not to make you uncomfortable

he’d only be goofy if you guys are just fooling around and making jokes while dancing

other than that he’s pretty quiet

rating: 20/10, tenya please wear some goddamn contacts during training

“y/n, i’m so sorry,” iida flushed deeply, stopping his movements.

despite his time practicing dance and his thought out movements, he’s stepped on your foot. he was apologizing profusely while you just stood and laughed lightly, watching his arm chop down.

“i’m sorry, i should have watched my step and- wait are you laughing?”

“iida, it’s okay. you have nothing to worry about.”

he’d probably just randomly start dancing with you

like you could be dancing around while cleaning and he’d just join you

baby can’t dance, he just can’t

but he acts like he can

would twirl you constantly and he’d try to dip you but fail miserably 😭

electric slide lookin ass

probably just starts his playlist and dances to random songs

he’s so goofy omg-

doesnt stop laughing or teasing you

rating: 30/30, sounds like a vibe

“you’ve been hit by, you’ve been struck by, a smooth criminal!”

denki stood on his toes, head tipped downward, and his hand positioned like he was dipping a fedora. at this point he had crashed into the table and knocked a chair over. this man was to never be trusted near anything fragile.

he took your hand and spun you around him, trying to keep you from the chair on the floor. after he spun you he spun himself, this time tripping over the chair and tumbling into the fridge.

“denki are you okay? are you okay, denki?” you sang along with the song playing.

sunshine man, he would 100% dance with you

but you’d have to ask, the thought just wouldn’t come to his mind

and he is worse than denki

but he has so much fun with it that it doesn’t matter

he spins you and lifts you, it’s so fun

he’s so goofy and playful, not a serious moment

he accidentally activated his quirk while dipping you, that hurt

but he loves dancing with you

and he pokes fun at his own dancing, he finds it really amusing

and he hyped you up so much

rating: 1000000/10, overall a perfect experience

a squeal left your mouth as your feet left the ground, mirio’s hands clutching your waist tightly. you grabbed on to his shoulders to keep yourself steady. he put you back on the ground and continued dancing along to the music. he shimmed his shoulders and bopped his head to the beat. or at least tried.

“i know that you can’t help but watch my horrible dancing but you gotta dance with me, can’t be the only bad dancer here!”

you shook your head and took his hands, shimmying along with him. man was mirio was a bad dancer but he made it so much fun

you’d ask him and he would just not get why you’d wanna dance with him

he wouldn’t object to it, it’s just that he’s sure that he’s a bad dancer and that others are so much better and

would hide his face in your neck and hold you really tightly to him

and he’s so nervous

if he stepped on you he’d let go of you and just stand in a corner for hours

but honestly, he’s actually a really good dancer

if you guys dance more he’ll start goofing off and doing stuff like spinning you

probably doesn’t put on music and if he did it would be off of his chill playlist

rating: 80/10, might be my ideal situation

you and amajiki had barely moved from where you guys started, not that it mattered. you two had been swaying more than dancing, but it was peaceful and relaxing. that’s what mattered. he had he’s arms wrapped tightly around your torso and his head was hidden in your neck. you felt his smile and uneven breathes brushing against your skin.

some old slow song played from your phone, one he chose. both of you were happy with the closeness and intimacy of the moment, but tamaki was happy he just hadn’t stepped on you. god that would have killed him. but he had yet to, and he was thankful.

“thank you, tama,” you smiled gently, “this is nice.”

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thebeautyoffanfics · 3 years

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hello!💙💙i hope im not bothering you but may i get a tsukasa or mitsuba x reader where their s/o loves to draw but never lets them see and one day they steal their s/o sketchbook and dont see any drawings of them and the boys are a lil dissapointed but their s/o has a secret sketcbook that they always keep with them filled with the boys portraits?? it would be rlly cute!!(feel free to ignore tho!)💙💜

tsukasa yugi x gn!reader, mitsuba sousuke x gn!reader

a/n: no worries, you aren’t bothering me at all!! This is a super cute prompt, so thank you so much for requesting! (i love writing mitsuba too,,, just gotta love the sharp-tongued, short-tempered characters <3)

warnings:

word count: 1,471

Tsukasa Yugi <3

He thinks the fact that you can draw is super cool!! Probably more so than you do, to be completely honest- he’s extremely enthusiastic about it, but that also means he’s extremely annoying about it.

Lots of “let me look, let me look!!” “I wanna seeeeeeee,” “(Y/N), pleaaaaseee, what’re you drawinggggg?”

“Tsukasa, I love you, I love you very much. But, I promise you, if you don’t shut up and let me draw in peace-”

“:((“

So, of course, if you don’t let him see it, our gremlin of a boy is going to look through it one way or another. Pestering you relentlessly didn’t work, trying to slip it casually into a conversation didn’t work, so! You leave him no option!

One day, when you’re minding your business in class, Tsukasa checks your locker. Maybe, just maybe, you left it in there?

Hmm… empty- next stop!! Bookbag!

His eyes practically lit up, his expression excited, practically screaming “found it!!”

Tsukasa would open the sketchbook, silently wondering what on earth you could have drawn. His only experience in art was… well- with things that weren’t intended for art. It wasn’t ever proper “art” either. Just a lot of smearing. But anyway-

A part of him sort of hoped it would be something with him. Maybe even a little doodle, it didn’t have to be a fully colored, lined, amazing piece. Just little doodles, cos you loved him so much, and he infested your mind like the little parasite he is… y’know….

So, as he flipped through the pages, admiring your style- amazed with every little doodle, every little pencil marking, every little detail- he kept an eye out for anything that could have even vaguely resembled him. Yet, once he reached the end, he was rather certain that there was nothing. Tsukasa felt a bit disappointed, pouting despite the fact that you weren’t there to see it.

“Tell me how I knew you were up to something,” You sighed, looking at the boy seated next to your bookbag, the last pages of your sketchbook flipped open. He ignored the comment, placing your sketchbook to the side, then hugging you. You returned the hug, giving him a confused glance.

“What? It’s nothing incredible, but was it that bad-? I don’t even know everything that’s in that, so-”

“You didn’t draw me :(((“

“You didn’t ask me to???”

Still, you couldn’t help but laugh, well aware of the other sketchbook you had stored in the more secure part of your bookbag. Patting his back, then letting go of the hug, you bent down and grabbed your sketchbook and bag. Replacing the sketchbook he had flipped through, you then reached in and grabbed the other.

Somewhat embarrassed, yet know he already found out about your artistic abilities and would probably be glad to see himself, you handed him the sketchbook. “I’ll have you know, I’m not exactly overjoyed with you right now. But, since you’re a sneak, I’ll let you look at that one.”

Tsukasa opened the sketchbook with renewed energy, excited to see what was inside it. Was it him?! Did he actually infest your mind?!! Was he a good model??

Uncharacteristically, his face was slightly warm as he looked over the first page. It started off with a fully finished drawing of him- a very strong start, if he did say so himself. Not only was it him, it was awesome.

He flipped through the rest of the pages, happiness and excitement practically radiating off of him. You could have sworn you saw his eyes sparkling.

“THAT’S SO COOL, (Y/N)!!” Tsukasa would yell after shutting the sketchbook, throwing his arms around you happily, making sure that the sketchbook didn’t get damaged as he did so. “You did draw me! You drew a lot of me!!”

“Ahah- yeah. You’re… cute, after all. Why wouldn’t I draw my boyfriend?”

Mitsuba Sousuke <3

Nosey little dude, but on a more casual level than Tsukasa.

“I’ve shown you my pictures, so you should show me your drawings.”

“That makes sense,”

“So, show me.”

“Nope!”

“(Y/N)-”

Though amusing, Mitsuba will start to pout after a while. “Tch- it’s not like I wanted to see it anyway. It’s probably lame.”

“Awesome then! That doesn’t make me want to show you any more than I previously did~!”

Insert Mitsuba sticking his tongue out at you-

Still, Mitsuba does understand where you’re coming from. After all, he never shows you pictures he’s taken of you. Therefore! It’s only logical that you wanted to draw his cute face!! He muttered this, crossing his arms, yet pretending that it was no big deal to him. Nope, those little comments and attempted glances were nothing-

“Mmh? You’re cute, yes.”

“That’s not what I- whatever, pervert. It’s clear now. You don’t want to show me, ‘cos there’s raunchy art in there! Pervert! Creepy, you’re so creepy-”

“Then aren’t you a pervy creep for wanting to look in my sketchbook?”

“I-”

Mitsuba may have not talked to you for the rest of the day- but it’s fiiiine, he’s fiiiiiiine.

Especially since, by the end of the next day, Mitsuba passed your locker, planning on returning to the class from a bathroom break. As he glanced over at your locker, not fully shut because of your bookbag shoved into it, an idea crossed his mind. It wouldn’t take long… a little peak wouldn’t hurt. Just to make sure his s/o wasn’t a pervert, of course! Not out of personal interest!

So, he grabbed your bag, rummaging through it until he found a well-used sketchbook. His interest peaked, as he grabbed it, opening it up and flipping through the pages.

Some of the pieces were similar to pictures he had given to you, but he didn’t spot anything of him. Sure, your art was impressive, and he was rather content finally getting to see it, but-

But where was his cute face?? Not even his name??? No dreamy “(Y/N) Sousuke” written? Nothing.

Well, it’s not like he cared anywa-

“Really, Mitsuba? You needed to use the bathroom?”

“AH-” He yelped, shutting your sketchbook, as if that would make it seem like he wasn’t just flipping through the pages in slight awe. “Shut up, pervert! I went to the bathroom, I just- you were being suspicious.”

“By drawing?”

“YEs.”

You laughed lightly, though embarrassed as you took the sketchbook from him, putting it back into your bookbag. To be completely honest, your heart was beating a bit faster, slightly nervous that he found your art ugly. It wasn’t anything in comparison to his pictures, you thought..

And, when you turned around and caught a glimpse of his slightly disappointed face, your heart beat even faster. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” He said, somewhat defensively- well, that much was normal.

“Sorry, it’s probably disappointing- I know my art isn’t the greatest, but it’s definitely improved over time. There are things I need to study, but-”

“Hey, don’t assume I’m upset with your art, dummy. It’s…” He blushed slightly, looking away from you and shoving his hands in his pockets, “it’s really cool. I’m impressed.”

“Then why are you pouting?”

“I’m not pouting.”

You raised your eyebrows, making Mitsuba flush further, opening his mouth as he thought of what to say in response to that expression. “I just- well, you were weird about it, so I figured there was something about me- something weird or suspicious. But, it’s all perfectly normal.”

It took a moment for you to get behind his words- but, after getting behind Mitsuba’s extremely indirect way of saying things, you understood what he meant. He wanted you to draw him. After processing that, you bit your lip, wondering if you should actually show him your other sketchbook… a glimpse at his slight pout, though it was now confusion at your conflicted expression, you turned around, rummaging through your bookbag.

Then, you pulled out another sketchbook, and pushed it against his chest. “Since you’re so insistent. Just go ahead and look through it, I guess.”

It was Mitsuba’s turn to raise his eyebrows, as he took the sketchbook, and opened it up. His face burned, as he flipped through the pages. They were… filled with him. It genuinely made his heart pound, looking at the array of doodles, line art, and fully finished pieces- occasionally, a small heart or smiley face would be doodled alongside them. If he didn’t find your art incredible before, he definitely did now. Of course, he’d never admit it to your face, but his expression was enough for you to understand.

“A-ah… gross- idiot. Of course, I should have known a pervert like you would draw such a cute face. It’s obvious.”

“Right, right. Honestly, just give me a penny each time you call me a pervert, I’ll be rich in no time-”

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kaeyastopmakingicepuns · 3 years

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Hey, I suck at writing fics that have a plot, so here's a little Diluc x Reader prompt, for anyone who wants it.

It occurred to me that Diluc's character had been MADE for a fake!married trope, and this scene popped into my head, but I didn't know how to go further with it, so if anyone wants to continue it, or use it for inspiration, please be my guest! :)

Diluc x Reader Fake!Married AU

"There you are," you said, paying no mind to your fancy clothes as you plopped yourself down on the dusty floor to lean against the cold, stone wall of the wine cellar. You had found Diluc right where you had expected to whenever the winery held these public festivals.

Diluc, seated on the ground next to you, merely grunted in response, taking a swig from the glass bottle he held before he nestled it back into its place in the crook of his arm.

"People are looking for you, ya know," you commented idly.

Another grunt. Honestly, having a conversation with this man could be like pulling teeth at times. It was a good thing that you had known him long enough to have learned that once you did get him talking, Mondstadt’s grumpiest bartender was actually a huge softie with a droll sense of humor that never failed to have you clutching your sides with laughter at least once or twice before he inevitably clammed up again.

“There’s a new bard in town.” You tried again. “Goes by the name ‘Dandelion.’ Wants to woo you with a special poem he wrote just for you.”

And yet another grunt punctuated by a long swig from the bottle. Time for drastic measures.

“Hey!” Diluc cried, uttering the first word you’d heard from him all evening as you snatched the bottle from his hand and helped yourself to its contents. You lowered the bottle as soon as the drink hit your tongue and spat the sip you had taken to the side.

“This is just stale grape juice,” you said in disgust. Honestly, you should have known, but the way he was nursing the drink had you convinced it was something stronger.

Diluc rolled his eyes as a plucked the bottle out of your grip. “Wait ‘til you find out what wine is,” he remarked drily.

You laughed. There was the Diluc whose company you had sought out. “Connor would cry in shame if he ever heard you say that.”

Diluc winced. “Please don’t tell him,” he pleaded.

“Of course not,” you agreed. “No way I could break his heart like that.” You grabbed the bottle again and took a proper drink this time. Now that you were expecting the sweeter beverage, it was actually quite good. Dawn winery didn’t get its reputation for nothing, its grape juice was just as good as its wine.

“How much longer do you suppose I have?” Diluc asked with a grimace as you passed the bottle back to him.

“What, before they come bursting down here trying to marry you off to their sons or daughters? Oh, not long at all,” you teased, accepting the bottle as he passed it back to you.

Diluc groaned. “Archons, I hate this. I wish they’d just leave me alone.”

You gesture in his direction, using the neck of the bottle to point at him, ignoring the way the juice sloshed around dangerously inside, threatening to spill on Diluc, who leaned away from your waving arms with a frown. “You know what you need to do?” you asked playfully. “You need to get fake married.”

Instead of laughing at your joke, Diluc’s brow scrunched up in puzzlement. “I need to get what?”

You sighed. Leave it to Diluc to not be aware of classic story clichés. “You know, disappear for a week or two, then return with some pretty thing on your arm and just tell everybody that you’ve eloped.”

Diluc scowled. “But I don’t want to get eloped.”

Archons, but he was lucky he was pretty. Diluc was generally an incredibly smart guy, but sometimes the way he failed to employ common sense baffled you. Like when he had used slime bait near his own vineyard and had to fight off a few curious slimes every few hours for a week. Still, being (secretly) big of heart and dumb of ass was what made Diluc, well, Diluc, and you wouldn't have him any other way.

“You wouldn’t actually get eloped,” you explained slowly. “You would just pretend to. You and whatever idiot you persuaded to be your fake spouse would know, but no one else would. That way, you get to be free from all the hassle of being a bachelor, and some lucky sucker gets to, I dunno, live in the manor rent free, or something. I’m not really sure what you would offer them to make it equitable, but I’m sure you can think of something, you’re rich, after all.”

It seemed Diluc still wasn’t getting the joke as, judging from the contemplative look on his face, he was actually giving the idea some serious thought. “That... might actually work,” he said thoughtfully.

Of course he would think this was a good plan, this was the same guy who thought it would be better if the city of Mondstadt was attacked from two fronts at the same time, rather than him revealing himself as the city’s so-called ‘Dark Knight Hero.’

“There is something you do have to be very careful of, though,” you said gravely, schooling your expression into something serious.

Diluc looked at you with concern. “What?”

“You have to make sure you pick someone whom you will absolutely not fall in love with, and will not fall in love with you under any circumstances,” You said. finally passing the grape juice back to him as you realized you were still holding it. Diluc took it and set it on the floor between you. “That’s how these things always go, someone falls in love with the other one and suddenly bam!” You punched your hand into your fist for emphasis, pleased to see that Diluc had been listening to you intently enough that he started a little. “The whole scheme goes up in smoke,” you said dramatically.

Diluc rolled his eyes. “Someone I won’t fall in love with?” he repeated. “How about you?”

“Ouch!” You put your hand to your chest in mock offense. That was clearly payback for making him jump.

Something flickered behind Diluc’s eyes and you hurried to make a teasing remark, knowing that if Diluc thought he had actually hurt your feelings his social awkwardness would instantly turn him back into Mr. Tall, Dark, Silent, and Brooding.

“And you call yourself a gentleman,” you said, lightly shoving his arm.

Diluc smirked back at you, visibly relaxing as soon as he was reassured you weren’t actually insulted. “I can be a gentleman,” he said, “when the situation calls for it.”

“I’ve never seen it,” you scoffed.

“Do you want to?” he asked, raising an eyebrow curiously.

You did, weirdly enough. At least a little. But rather than say that you snorted and said, “Archons, no.”

“I thought as much,” Diluc said confidently. He picked up the bottle again and finished it off, before giving you a sidelong glance. “You didn’t say ‘no.’“

“I didn’t,” you admitted. But that didn’t mean you were saying yes. After all, there had to be a reason this stuff only happened in stories, right? It’s not like this kind of game could work if attempted in real life.

“How would it even work?” you asked. “I mean, this kind of thing can only stay a secret for so long. It just takes one person learning the truth, and suddenly everyone knows. And it’s not like you can just explain away the fact that we have separate bedrooms to your staff, so that right there is where it all starts to fall apart.”

“No, it’s not.,” Diluc insisted. “It’s not at all uncommon for a husband and wife to have separate rooms. Royals do it all the time.”

You barked out a laugh. “Oh, so you’re royalty now? I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize you took that ‘uncrowned king of Mondstadt’ thing so seriously. And all this time I’ve been calling you by your first name. Is ‘your majesty’ too informal when we’re alone? Is it to be ‘His Esteemed Royal Highness, Diluc Ragnvindr of the Grape-Growing-Greats’ at all times?”

Diluc sighed. “Stop that, I just meant it’s not without precedent. My parents had separate rooms here when I was a kid, it’s not unthinkable.”

You blinked. You hadn’t known that. “They did?”

“Yeah,” he said. “They rarely made use of both of them, but they did. It’s expected of nobility, somewhat.”

Huh. There might be something to this plan, after all.

“And you still haven’t said ‘no,’“ Diluc said.

You hadn’t. Were you actually considering this?

“If you lived at the winery, you wouldn’t have to walk down here from Mondstadt every day,” he pointed out casually. Damn him for knowing your one weak point-- your hatred for your daily commute.

You were saved from having to answer by the torch on the wall going out with a pop, plunging the two of you into darkness. You squeaked and instinctively grabbed onto Diluc’s arm.

“Sorry,” Diluc said. “It must be a faulty torch. That’s the third time it’s gone out this week. I’ll get it.”

You felt Diluc wave his hand, and the torch flared back to life, illuminating the small corner of the cellar once again.

“Thanks,” you said, letting go of Diluc’s arm, wondering at the way Diluc’s face seemed to flare blight red in the glow of the firelight.

Suddenly, your eyes widened. “Archons, Diluc, you’re on fire again!” Was there a single pyro vision wielder in all of Teyvat that had mastered the art of not setting themselves on fire whenever they used their vision?

Diluc swore under his breath and began frantically patting his arm in an attempt to smother the flames. You helped, and, between the two of you, managed to get the small flame put out in a matter of seconds. Just another day at Dawn Winery.

Diluc stood, making sure there were no other embers lying around that could burn the whole manor down. “I should get back to the party,” he grumbled, offering you a hand to help you to your feet.

You followed him up the stairs, your earlier conversation seemingly forgotten. You were confidant that once the pressure from the party was gone the next morning, Diluc would never bring up the thought again, and you would both carry on with your lives.

But, still, neither of you had said ‘no.’

#genshin impact #gi diluc #diluc x reader #diluc #diluc ragnvindr

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boogiewrites · 3 years

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Never Break the Chain Pt. 2

Part 2 of 5

Characters: Javier Peña x OFC

Summary: Javier and Esme's first time seeing each other in almost twenty years. A photograph leads to an obsessive hunt for the woman he thought was dead. They both find they got where they wanted. But is it what they want now?

Warnings/Tags: Tension. Big reunited kiss.

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.) Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT!

Time passes, as it always has and always will. It stopped for no man, not even Javier. Seeing his first love fade into nothing had left him a different man. Walls came up, barriers were built that his enemies would even be impressed by. She’d done him a favor, snapping him out of the young man’s dream, but he felt he had nothing left but trying to help once she was gone. So he threw himself into his work.

Sure there were other women. He thought he loved some, but would always leave them. He always hurt them and that wasn’t his intention precisely but they would thank him years later. He was what they would refer to in close company as “a dodged bullet”. He’d been called far worse.

He despised his cliche reactions to his trauma sometimes. Drinking, smoking, being a general pain in the ass, renowned and proud asshole was easier. Burying yourself in prostitutes and let them take away the thoughts for a little while was the easiest. He would fantasize he could help them, even save some of them. He surely wasn’t getting his hero complex stroked when it came to his work. He had a soft spot for women, he had learned the hard way the shit deal they’d landed when they were born. He couldn’t do much...but he could try to help. So he did. Loss after loss he kept trying. This was that bit of good Esme had always believed in. He wasn’t sure how much longer he would have it so he made the best of it while he could.

The night before was nothing knew, an old habit at this point for him. He went out and got a woman, he’d pour every bit of good in him into her, convincing himself he still had it. He’d make them feel good, listen to them, things that were in short supply in their lives from men. He could be that good guy exception, if only for a short while. It felt nice to not be looked at with disgust or fear. The slivers of affection kept him going after dark. He’d leave them breathless, moans turning to laughs as they dressed, joking they might not make him pay. But they always took the money. And he offered it with no judgment, pulling his jeans on and halfway through a highball glass as his lean outstretched arm offer up their compensation for making him feel something good and push out the bad thoughts for a short while. He could be making worse decisions.

He rubs his temple, suppressing a groan as he slid his way into the uncomfortable chair at the beaten-up metal table. The chatter of his coworkers all making their way into the room was grating but nothing he couldn’t ignore. Morning debriefing, something he gave a shit about. Well, work was the one thing he gave a shit about right now, hyper-focused on the clock and trying to drown out the obsession off the clock. It was a dynamic that he was still trying to perfect. He downs the hot black coffee in his hand and nods at the secretary just outside the doorway, “Get me another, sugar. No sugar.” he winks and sends her off. She side-eyed him and went on her way, that was just Pena to her, horny but harmless. He cracks his back, a grunt before landing his elbows on the table to focus, the overblown commander coming in with a handful of photos, spreading them on the table as they talked about what they always did, the cartel.

Pena tries to approach everything individually, but there was only so much range these guys had, and not seeing them all as one giant collection of piss ants with assault rifles was something getting harder and harder to do. So as new and old names were said, he watched the board fill out, the line attaching known connections and new ones. There had been a new wave of intel, something Pena and his partner Murphy were used to being the ones doing, but he wouldn’t complain if someone else finally wanted to sack up and their fucking job like they were supposed to.

“So we have our old friends,” a slap of photos to the board. “Then there’s a new round of boys coming in.” he taps the newest addition to the board. “Seems we’re getting inbred with the other families, the jewel smugglers, the miners...seems we’re trying to venture out and expand our already impressive portfolio.” he snorts.

“They can never just be fucking satisfied with their millions.” someone groans and complains.

“It’s a good chance try to take them down too.” Murphy shrugs.

“Eyes on the prize, kiss ass,” Pena says quietly, accepting his coffee without a second glance. “Do we know these women?” he asks with a nod in the direction.

“Typical.” Murphy rolls his eyes.

“No. Our assumption is prostitutes. Nothing new there.” the commander goes on, but he quickly becomes background noise as Pena stands and moves toward the board. He stood, hips jutted forward, eyes scanning, hand over his mouth in thought. Once he saw the new pictures he hadn’t heard another word the men had said. “PENA!” barked his way grabs his attention as he casually shifts his attention.

“Mmmph. Yeah.” he mutters, eyes moving back to the board.

“I was informing you, you’d be doing street intel on these newcomers.”

“Yeah,” he says disinterested, thumbing his lip before placing his hands on his hips. “Do we have these photos in color?”

The question catches the room off guard. “Why?” he’s met with annoyed opposition.

“This woman…” he taps the photo of a woman with a sly smile on the arm of a very powerful man. Dark waves teased and a heart-shaped face buried in a fur coat collar worth more than he made in a year. He clears his throat. “I’ve seen her before…”

“They’re whores Javi, of course, you have.” Murphy leads the room in a wave of amused hums and chuckles.

“No I’m serious,” he says with no inflection, catching his partner’s attention. “Do we have a location on them if there’s no color?”

“Why’s color important?”

He’s quiet for a moment, jaw tense and eyes blinking, baffled at what he was allowing himself to think. “Her eyes… were green.” MUrphy readjusts himself in his seat, watching Pena’s eyes carefully. He could swear they looked sad.

“What information we’ve got is here.” the commander points at the table with its thick manilla envelopes.

Javier nods with no spoken response, staying in place until the room is empty except for a hesitant Murphy who approaches him. “Who is she?” he asks quietly.

He shakes his head in response. “It can’t be her,” there’s a heavy pause, “But it...fuck it looks like her…” his voice trails off and Murphy is left with more questions.

“Well, are you gonna answer me or just write poetry about her Javi?”

“She’s…” he sighs and sucks his teeth. “She’s supposed to be dead.”

“Did you-?”

“No… no… nothing like that.” his voice still quiet. “I knew her… fuck...over a decade ago now.”

“So we can add hunting ghosts to our agenda now too. Great.” Murphy takes it lightly and presses his lips together. He stares at Javi, his eyes dark and focused. He was left with more questions than answers. His money was still on it being a hooker. It’s not as if Pena had even talked about Esme since the investigation when he was young. His partner may have his back in life or death situations, and they may have been close, but no one knew about her. Pena had hoped to keep it that way. He hoped he was wrong. He hoped it wasn’t her. Because if it was… well he didn’t know what he’d do.

---------------------------------------------------

Esme didn’t know it but with every minute that passed, she was being proven right about her belief in her first love, that if he knew she was alive, that he would find her.

Esme had ran, a bug out bag down the river and no trace left behind. She made her way south over the years, learning her craft and making friends in the right places. She’d started with rich men, especially rich white men trying to make a living off exploiting her fellow man in Mexico. It had been almost too easy. They thought nothing of her and wore her as if she were a watch; on their arm and shiny and proof of their wealth. She would gain access, gather intel and then sweep in and take the goods and ghost out.

Esme had been legally declared dead and was now living as Estelle. She had so many names over the years but her current incarnation was Estelle. And she was a star. She’d become what she wanted, she was rich and self-reliant. She needed no one and had her fun as she craved it. There were men and women and drugs and jewels and for so long it had been a pleasant hazy dream. But the novelty of it wore off, she grew bored, a witness to her hypocrisy, growing soft and lazy with her indulgence. When she emerged from her haze and saw the state of the world around her she knew things had changed. Narcos now ruled the world. The government bowed to them, the poor worshipped them. She saw they were the future, the new leaders. And for her, that meant that’s where she had to be.

She found herself once again sharp and full of adrenaline. Her new role took real savvy and cunning. Otherwise, she’d end up dead for real. She cozied up, working for Narcos to steal for them. It wasn’t hard in skill, but it was in the amount of sexist shit she had to deal with. She’d killed men for laying hands on her, and worse. She’d pulled knives and guns and made frown men piss themselves as she threatened them with words they’d never heard women utter up to that point. Most of the leaders would laugh until they cried after the fact, seeing a woman act in such away. She entertained them. They underestimated her, saw her as some novelty pet that fetched things and entertained them. She could handle that. As long as she got paid.

Following the groups, making her way around it made sense she found herself in Columbia. She knew it was dangerous, but she was addicted to it. It filled the void of sex and drugs for her for the most part, although she did partake among her peers from time to time. She thought it made her admirable, independent, and a shining example of what a woman could be if she had the nerve to do it. She was, to a degree, but she was also wrong. She lacked the softness in her life anyone, not just a woman needed. A void where no love or trust or intimacy was in her life she filled with material things and lists of her accomplishments. if she kept busy and looking ahead she wouldn’t be still king enough to face her demons.

Except she was about to come face to face with her biggest one.

—

As was his way, Javier had become a bit obsessed. He had to know if this woman was Esme. He’d been tracking her and was able to have DEA level observation to do it. It was a personal mission he’d been able to spin to look like a cartel one. There was a connection, she was seen with them, but little was known outside of that. After he’d put the word out for the beautiful woman with green eyes it hadn't taken long before someone scorned by her leaked information on her next job. The informant knew what his boss wanted to be stolen and when she’d be there. Normally no agent or cop would care to pay attention to her, or some jewels being stolen, she was just some woman to them. But serendipitous timing made sure she became THE woman for one of them.

She practically waltzed into the store. She scaled a fence, a wall and came through a window but for her, that was practically begging her to steal from them. The rooms were dark, silent except for the sounds of her feet as she made her way into the back, unseen and unbothered. It wasn’t until she’d stopped to admire her score before snatching it they the clicking of a gun behind her caught her attention.

He’d waited in the shadows, and none too patiently. With the aim set to intimidate, not kill, he Easter no more time. “Who are you?” It came out as an order.

Her head snapped up, back still to the faceless voice she felt was all too familiar. She blinks, the former goal now removed and replaced with a flood of emotion. She remains silent, her turn to be shocked like he was when he saw her face in the photos.

“Turn around.” Another order. The voice was deeper, darker now but still made her feel the same way.

She turns, and painfully slow. She doesn’t meet his intense gaze immediately, reading his body language first and calming her racing mind. There’s no way it was him.

There’s no way it’s her, his mind reassures him. But as soon as her eyes raise to meet his his stomach drops. He was right.

“Javi?” It was almost a whisper, for the first time in she couldn’t remember when she didn’t hide her emotions in her face.

The gun falls first, his sense falling to the wayside as it slipped into its place in the back waist of his jeans. His frame was broader, still lean moves towards her with an earned confidence now. He doesn’t speak, staring at her as if she might not be real. She gives him his time. He’d earned it. “It really is you.” It was his turn to let the veil fall, dark eyes shining in the low, cool light.

She nods. “Javi I can explain.” She begins, prepared to apologize and ask forgiveness before asking him why the hell he was there at all. They were a long way from home.

“You’re alive.” A rather obvious statement that made her smile. It was all he could handle.

“I can explai-“ a quick burst of words before they’re cut off by his mouth landing against hers. She hadn’t expected this. She was prepared for many things last but not this, at least not for him to be kissing her. “Javi my-“ she tries to get out but his hands are already on her cheeks, hot and damp and certain. She lets her concern fade for a moment, it would all be fine. She gives in to it, lets him take the lead, and pull her against him roughly. The anger and hurt coming through in his grip on her back and face as they kissed breathlessly. He stole her focus without trying, there was the signature huff from his nose, the nuzzle into her between separating to catch his breath but he felt different. But so did she.

Where they once held differences in certainty they now held the opposite. He kissed her like he just found out his first love was alive after decades of vices to cover the loss. Because he had. Every woman and experience he’d had between her and now, every skill and thus gained confidence was clear and apparent. This was not a boy handling a girl. He was a man handling his woman.

And there she was, blindsided and touch starved, passion and intimacy starved being devoured by the only man she’d ever truly loved. The only man she’d ever let in and see her for what she was. The only man that knew Esmeralda. It was a raw and painful ache that emanated from her chest as she clutched her hand around his wrist and the other gripped his shirt in her hand. She gave in because she knew it wouldn’t last long, and after it was over she’d miss it.

With eyes squeezed shut, his forehead pressed to hers, his statuesque nose gently rubbing against hers he exhales hot against her face. “Esme…” he pulls back and holds her face, demanding her focus.

“It’s been so very long since someone’s called me that.” she sighs and puts her hands on his forearms.

“Since I called you that?”

She nods and smiles, face pressed into his hand.

“Maybe it’s about time people called you that again.” he pauses and looks her over with a hard brow, he couldn't hide his simmering anger underneath the confusion, relief, and affection. “Where the fuck have you been?” She sighs in response. “Why the hell are you HERE?”

“Same as you. Work.”

“Why are you with those men? Don’t you know who they are? What they do?”

“Why do you ask questions you already know the answer to?”

“Why Esme?” his eyes water and his hands squeeze her face a bit too tightly before a wave of dizziness hit him.

“Same reason now as then,” she whispers, his grip loosening and not hearing her response, she slicks his dark hair back as his eyes start to roll around in their sockets. “You're fine, Javi. Seems you fell for my defense mechanism.” she smiles and he looks at her, starting to slump. “To be fair I didn’t know to expect you. You’ll wake up soon enough. It’s only temporary.” she wipes the culprit of the sudden wave of forced unconsciousness he was going through, her lipstick off his mouth. He was out quickly, and she spent some long moments exploring the now aged face of her once wide-eyed companion. “You are even more handsome than I thought you’d be.” she coos and kisses him after dragging him into a chair and pushing it into a corner so he wouldn’t fall. “It now inevitable we’ll meet again. My old hound dog.” She chuckles, a kiss to take in the scent of his hair before she parted ways. “See you later, mi amor.”

-----------

Peña awoke to a boot knocking against his knee and an odd headache. It was pitch black outside by now, people on the streets outside none the wiser to the life-altering experience he’d just had.

“Are we blacking out in stores now?” Murphy snarks and shakes his head, leaning against a door frame.

“That’s not...I’m not…” Javier shakes his head, rubbing and tapping at the pulse in his skull.

“Then what the hell is it?” He can hear the judgment in his partner's voice.

“If I told you you would think I was crazy.” he groans and sits up with his back straight in the chair, one cocked brow looking over to the man staring him down.

“And I don’t now?”

Peña huffs out a laugh. That was a fair assessment. He’d think the same thing. He looked across the room, the glass case he’d found her standing in front of now empty. “She took the jewels.” he switches the subject, an arm raised lazily and collapsing against his lap after.

“Were they made of cocaine? Why do we give a shit?”

“It’s not the jewels that are important. It’s the woman that did it.”

“A woman? Huh. That’s something you don’t see every day. That is… a little bit crazy I guess.”

“That’s not what’s crazy.”

“Am I gonna have to fuckin’ waterboard you man, just tell me.” he groans.

“That woman I told you about... that stole those... she's been declared legally dead for almost twenty years.” he finally says with a defensive tone and a face that said don’t fucking try me to the man still assessing his sanity with no attempt at hiding his negative prognosis.

“Oh.” Murphy contemplates looking away to the empty case. “That... yeah okay that is crazy.”

@jaegeeeeer @likedovesinthewnd @inkededucatednnerdy @biharryjames @ladamari68 @past-romantic @weliketomoveit

#javier pena #Javier Pena Fanfic #javier pena fic #javier pena fan fic #javier pena x reader

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amerrierworld · 4 years

Text

Just Pretend

Ocean’s 8 - oneshot

Summary: You’ve been spending a lot of time with the Ocean’s crew and your friends are worried. Lou finds a way to get them off your tail.

Characters: Lou x fem!reader, the Ocean’s gang, your friends (F/N).

Word Count: 1,376

Warnings: Swearing

“Y’know, my friends have been wondering where I’ve been hanging out recently,” you said as you took another sip of coffee and played your next card.

“Hm? And what’d you tell them?” Rose asked.

“Just that I’ve been hanging with a friend that they don’t know,” you shrugged. “Don’t worry, they don’t know about the lot of you. They just seem to think I’ve got a new girlfriend or something.”

The team of nine was sitting in Lou’s loft, lazing about with your newly acquired riches and enjoying each other’s company. You’d met Debbie through Constance being a mutual friend in the city, and she’d hired you on the team instantly.

You were playing cards with Rose, Constance (who was certainly cheating) and Tammy around the small table. Amita was making excited chitchat with Daphne over some fanciful jewelry while Nineball was tapping away on her computer. Constance had a small portable radio blasting some tunes to fill the spacey loft.

Debbie was in the kitchen, making a phone call to get pizza delivered because Lou had had enough of having her fridge raided, primarily by you and Constance who were nefarious snackers when bored.

Lou wasn’t anywhere to be seen, much to your disappointment. Over the past couple weeks prepping for the heist, you’d taken a liking to the blonde. Who wouldn’t take a liking to her? Confident, funny, sexy (especially when wearing anything leather).

“A new girlfriend, eh?” Tammy smirked.

Your liking to Lou hadn’t gone unnoticed, much to your chagrin. You didn’t handle feelings very well, and though you could be cool and collected when flirting casually, you were at a complete loss when it came to approaching Lou.

“Shut up,” you smacked Tammy’s arm. “They all know I don’t have time for that kind of stuff anyways. They’re just really annoying about it.”

“Annoying about what?” Debbie had joined the group, with a glass of red wine in hand.

“Y/N’s friends seem to think she’s being dragged away by a new lady-lover with the amount of time she’s spending with us,” Tammy smirked.

“Which is ridiculous- stop looking at me like that!” you huffed as Debbie looked at you knowingly. It was true, with the prep for the heist and planning the aftermath, you’d barely had the chance to see your regular friends outside of the eight co-criminals. You felt a little bad, but you certainly didn’t mind. They were a fun bunch, and the dynamic the group had was comfortable.

Except when it came to Lou.

Fucking Lou.

Every time she looked at you with her smoldering eyes you felt like the whole world faded away. You were only mildly convinced that she felt something too when she never looked away from your gaze. It made the heist planning only somewhat difficult.

You wondered where she was now. Probably driving around on her bike somewhere, in fucking leather again. You reached over and took a large sip of Tammy’s water without looking at her, knowing she’d have that annoying grin on her face.

The door opened just as you played another card. You all turned to see Lou walk in.

And what a way to walk in.

First she dumped her bike helmet on the closest table and wiped her hands on a dirty rag she had. Head to toe in stark black leather and black heeled boots. Her fringe was slightly messy and there was a bit of oil and grease from her bike on her forehead.

Her eyes were lined with sultry black and she unzipped her leather jacket to reveal a deep red button down (with half the buttons undone as usual) underneath. Your mouth went dry and you realized that she was looking straight at you. Rose had turned the music down.

“Y/N, there’s some buggers just outside looking for you. Told them I had no idea who you were in case you didn’t want them coming in.”

You groaned. “What did they look like?”

Lou described them and you sighed heavily. Two of your best mates had come following you to check on you, you figured. You got up from the couch just as there was knocking on the door and your phone lit up.

You picked up.

“Yo! Y/N, what the hell’s going on? Where are you, really?”

You came to stand next to Lou, halfway between your spot on the couch and the front doors. She looked at you with a bemused smile as you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“Doesn’t matter, F/N. Look, I know you’re here. But just, don’t follow me alright? I’m perfectly fine.”

“Y/N, we’re convinced you’re either involved with some real illegal shit or you’ve found yourself a new lady. Either way, we just wanna make sure you’re okay. You’re not staying at this big ol’ loft are you?”

“What would make you say that?”

You heard your other friend whistle from the background. “Well, if you are, you’ve got one heckin’ catch on your hands, girl.”

As you were talking Lou turned on her heels and walked to the front doors. You followed her quickly, worried that she was going to throw them into the street for annoying you like this.

“Can we not talk about this right now? I’ll meet you guys for drinks on the weekend. I know, I’m sorry I’ve been so absent lately, it’s just that-,”

“It’s just that her new lady likes to spend some time alone with Y/N at her own place. Is that too much to ask?”

You gawked. Lou had opened the door and leaned, all sexy but nonchalantly, against the frame to stare your two friends down on the front steps. They made eye contact with you and you hung up the phone, your face beet-red.

“I’ll tell you personally that Y/N is perfectly fine and safe here,” Lou continued casually. “How about we all go out for drinks this weekend and get to know each other properly?”

All of you were staring at Lou, and your mind was racing with what she meant, but you refused to let your imagination run rampant. You smiled wryly at your friends who stared at the intimidating figure that was your smokin’ Australian biker lady.

They swallowed and nodded once.

“Great! See you then,” And she shut the door in their faces. You jumped at the sound.

“W-huh?” You were completely confused at what just happened.

Lou turned to look at you and smirked. You blinked and unsuccessfully tried to regain your composure.

“Uhm, yeah, thanks for that Lou. I mean, you didn’t have to send them off like that, but I appreciate you pretending to get them off my ass, really.”

Lou stepped closer to you and caught your wrist before you could move away in surprise. She looked at you with sultry, piercing blue eyes and her next words were a low, hushed whisper.

“Who said I was pretending?”

You gawked. Again. Honestly, it was hard not to when it came to Lou. She moved impossibly closer and suddenly her mouth was on yours. She tasted of coffee, cigarettes and vodka. You were dumbfounded and could barely move as she pulled away. She chuckled at your expression before bringing your knuckles up to her lips and kissing them lightly.

It was then that you came back to reality. Your hand pulled away from hers and cupped the back of her neck to kiss her, hard. A low groan escaped Lou’s mouth as her hands grabbed your waist and yours wound up in her bleach blonde hair. You could feel heat searing through every bone in your body, until-

“Hey, love birds. Either get a room or come finish this card game okay?”

You hastily pulled away and looked to see Tammy smirking again. Lou pulled you against her as you turned around and her lips brushed your ear, making you shiver.

“Better go make sure Constance doesn’t cheat you guys again, eh?”

You nodded weakly and made your way back to the group, reaching behind to intertwine your fingers with Lou’s. She gripped yours back in a way that made your heart warm and a wide grin suddenly broke across your face as Rose turned the music back on.

A/N: hello. hi. its me. i have NO idea how long it’s been since I’ve written or posted ANYTHING for tumblr. But hey, it’s been a long time, I just rewatched Ocean’s 8 and I’m a stan for anything Cate Blanchett does, so here we are! A small little ficlet to quench all your quarantine-related thirsts. Be safe you guys. If you want to see any fics written by me please leave a request :) It’s been years since I’ve been on here but I’ve been filled with new inspiration and an urge to write. Who knows what’ll come next?

#lou x you #lou miller x you #lou miller #oceans 8 #debbie ocean #fanfic #cate blanchett #sandra bullock #sarah paulson #gay #lou miller x reader #cate blanchett x you #oceans 8 fanfic #lgbtq #wlw #merry writes

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birdiethebibliophile · 7 years

Text

{fic} Sight Unseen

Rating: G (no warnings) Relationship: Lucien/Cassian Word Count: 1,828

Tagging @squaddreamcourt. The promised Lussian fluff.

Also tagging @filippaeilharts and @hazelestelle because y’all encouraged me with my Lussian WIPs, like, MONTHS ago and here is one FINALLY.

Here on AO3.

Summary:

Based on @yalenayardeen‘s Cutthroat Fanfiction: ACOTAR Edition Generator! (Yes, I’m still using it.) Prompt was:

CHARACTERS: cassian and lucien; TROPE: blind date; TWIST: you must drink 3 alcoholic beverages (or 3 cups of highly caffeinated coffee/tea if you don't drink alcohol) just before writing the fic

(note: I did not follow the twist very exactly, but alcohol, caffeine, and late nights were involved)

__________________

Lucien was nervous.

He hadn’t been on a date in years. Years. He thought maybe the last time he went on a date was that twenty-seven-year-old hipster with the goatee and the beanie. His name was – God, Lucien couldn’t even remember what his name was, but he’d been a terrible kisser.

It didn’t give him high hopes for the date tonight.

His friend Feyre had been the one to set him up. Apparently now that she was getting laid on a regular basis, she thought that was the cure to all ills. You’ll like him, I promise, she’d wheedled when setting up the date. He’s totally your type.

Gay? Lucien had replied sarcastically.

Feyre had pouted. Lucien. You’re being difficult.

Can you at least tell me what his name is? What he looks like? So I don’t have to twerk on every guy under thirty in Rita’s to figure out who my date is?

All Feyre had told him was that the man’s name was Cassian, and he was an acquaintance of Rhys’s.

Lucien was not getting his hopes up. Especially as this Cassian was now – he checked his watch – almost ten minutes late.

He was sitting at the bar, next to Elain and her SO, Amren. Elain had happily volunteered to accompany him just in case, as he had said. Though from the way the two were making out now, Lucien didn’t think they’d be much help if this Cassian turned out to be a creep.

“Lucien Kelly?”

Lucien turned on the stool, and then – looked up. And up. He blinked several times. In front of him was an exceedingly tall, exceedingly buff, exceedingly handsome man. He was the kind of fit that you didn’t get from working out – the kind of fit you got from a job where you were lifting heavy things every five minutes. He must’ve just come from that job, whatever it was, because he looked a bit disheveled: flannel shirt partly unbuttoned, hair escaping from a messy bun, crooked smile surrounded by a five o’clock shadow.

Realizing the man was still waiting for an answer, Lucien cleared his throat. “That’s me.”

The man’s smile broadened, making his eyes crinkle. “I’m Cassian,” he said. “Your date.”

“Oh. Well. Nice to meet you,” Lucien said weakly as Cassian slid onto the barstool next to him.

“Buy you a drink?” Cassian offered.

“You don’t have to –”

Cassian cut him off with an airy wave of his hand. “Nah, I owe you for being late. Sorry about that.”

“Sure,” Lucien said, hard feelings draining away.

“It’s my boss’s fault,” Cassian confided as he motioned the bartender over. “Excuse me – a Guinness and whatever my friend wants.”

“Tullamore Dew, neat,” Lucien told the bartender.

Cassian grinned. “You have good taste. Anyways, I work at a farm about an hour away, and I told Mor that I needed to get off early because I had a date, but she said, and I quote, ‘Time and tide wait for no man, Cassian, and neither do cows, so get your ass in that barn.’”

Lucien laughed. “You really milk cows for a living?”

Cassian rubbed the back of his head self-consciously. “And lift hay bales and groom horses and shit. I hope I don’t smell like work – I didn’t have time to take a shower before coming over here.”

Lucien leaned in slightly, inhaling. “You do, but not unpleasantly,” he decided, unwilling to tell Cassian as yet that Lucien found the other man’s scent of hay and manure and sweat to be kind of… attractive.

“Well, I’m glad you don’t mind.” Cassian’s eyes swept down Lucien’s form. “I thought maybe –” He broke off, flushing. “Um, what I mean to say is that you look very nice.”

“You thought that I might be a stuck-up rich pretty boy?” Lucien supplied bluntly. “I know I look it. And smell it,” he added, thinking back to the touch of cologne he put on before heading out the door. He regretted it now; he didn’t want anything to obscure Cassian’s natural scent.

Cassian grinned sheepishly. “Maybe. Anyways, what do you do for a living?” He grabbed the glass of beer the bartender slid over to him and took a sip.

“I work in human resources,” Lucien said with a sigh. “Not nearly as interesting. It’s a lot of filing papers and answering angry phone calls.”

“Wait – like, you’re a secretary?”

Lucien scowled. “Okay, yeah, I’m a secretary.”

Cassian grinned. “Nothing wrong with that. I just can’t see you fitting in at an office, with the eye and the hair and everything.” He reached out and wound a strand of Lucien’s hair around one finger, rubbing it between the finger and his thumb. “Do you like it?”

“Eh.” Lucien shrugged. “I’m pretty good at it. My boss can be a bitch sometimes, but he’s a pretty good guy, and it pays well.”

“So you’re not stuck-up, and you’re not rich.” Cassian grinned, tugging lightly at the strand of Lucien’s hair before letting it go. “But you are pretty.”

Lucien took a hasty sip of his whiskey to hide his growing blush. “You’re prettier than me,” he argued once he’d set his glass down again.

Cassian gave him an exaggeratedly doubtful look, so Lucien leaned over and pinched his arm lightly. “Well, there’s more of you, isn’t there?” he said with an impish smile.

Cassian burst into laughter. “You have a point there,” he admitted. “Rhys didn’t mention you were funny.”

“Oh?” Lucien said, voice casual. “What did he say about me?”

“Nothing much,” Cassian said. “He said you were a friend of Feyre’s, and that going on a date would help me, quote, get over myself.”

Lucien raised his eyebrows at Cassian over his whiskey glass.

Cassian grinned. “I’ve been teasing the bastard non-stop about him and Feyre. Serves him right. He’s been swooning all over the place. Can’t say a word to him without him bringing her up. Anyways, Rhys insisted that being single was as good as being dead, so he’s been setting me up on dates for the past month.” Cassian leaned in, as if to tell Lucien a secret. Lucien noticed that his lips were slightly chapped, in a nice sort of way. “Between you and me, you’re the first one who hasn’t made me want to run out of the room. Congratulations.” Cassian lifted his glass and touched it to Lucien’s.

Lucien’s face felt hot as Cassian sat back up and took a drink of beer. “Thanks – I think. Though I’d like to think I rate a little higher on the date scale than that.”

Cassian made a thoughtful face. “It all depends,” he said. “I have high standards, I’ll have you know.”

“And what might those be?”

“Pretty simple, really. Be a good person. Like me for my personality as well as my good looks. Oh, and you have to like cats. I have one.”

Lucien grinned back. “Well, I can’t speak to the first qualification, but you have an absolutely sparkling personality to match your impressive biceps, and I have a cat as well.”

“Two thirds of the way there, then. What’s your cat’s name?”

“His name is Pumpkin, and he’s gigantic and orange. What about yours?”

“Muffin. She’s a tiny tortoiseshell,” Cassian said fondly.

Lucien snickered. “Did you pick the most stereotypical cat name ever on purpose?”

“Maybe,” Cassian admitted. “But I say having a cat named Muffin is one of the great joys of this life, you know?”

“Sure,” Lucien said agreeably. “Along with good whiskey –” he raised his glass in demonstration “– and winning at Monopoly.”

Cassian laughed, and Lucien felt a rush of ridiculous pleasure at being the cause. “I can’t imagine you can treat yourself to the second too often on a secretary’s salary,” he started to tease, then stopped. “I think there’s someone who wants to talk to you.”

“Hmm? Oh, hi, Elain,” Lucien said in surprise, turning on his barstool.

“Hi,” she said. Judging by the breathy quality to her voice, and the presence of at least two visible bruises on her neck, she and Amren would need to get a room soon. “Do we need to kill anyone?”

Lucien exchanged a glance with Cassian, who gave him one filled with mock horror. “No, we’re good,” he told Elain.

She beamed at him. “I’m going home with Amren, then,” she said.

“Okay.”

“To have sex.”

“Okay, Elain,” Lucien said, rather more loudly than before. “Have fun.”

“We will!” Elain said in the sing-song voice she used after three drinks, as Amren tugged her towards the door.

“I am so sorry,” Lucien said, turning back to Cassian. “I wanted to make sure you weren’t, you know, an axe murderer.”

“No offense taken,” Cassian said. “That was – erm – Feyre’s sister?”

“Oh, yes.”

“I can see the resemblance,” Cassian said thoughtfully. “They’re both equally obsessed with fucking.”

Lucien snorted into his glass. “That’s one way of putting it. Feyre set me up with you because she thinks getting me laid will cure my depression.” Then he processed what he’d just said and turned crimson. “Shit. I mean – not that – God, there were so many things wrong with that sentence.”

But Cassian was laughing. “She and Rhys were made for each other. Do you really have depression?”

“Yeah,” Lucien said. “Does that freak you out?”

“Nah,” Cassian said. “I’m on meds for ADHD, so no judgment here.”

Lucien let out a silent exhale. “I bet working on that farm helps as well, huh?”

“Hell yeah,” Cassian said. “I’ve been working for Mor since I graduated high school. College was never really for me, you know?”

Lucien nodded, then grinned. “Good thing you have the body for it, huh?”

“Are you ogling me?” Cassian accused.

“Maybe,” Lucien murmured, eyes dropping to the unbuttoned V of Cassian’s shirt. “Or maybe I’m admiring your personality.”

He was rewarded for his wit with Cassian’s laugh.

He was really starting to like that laugh.

*****

Cassian checked his watch. They’d been at the bar long enough that hordes of already-drunk college kids had started to pour in. “I guess I should head out – I start work at five thirty, and plus, Muffin gets upset if I feed her any later than eleven.”

“I should go, too.” Lucien started to stand up, but was stopped by Cassian’s hand on his arm.

“I really like you, Lucien Kelly,” he said softly. “And I’d like to do this again sometime. What do you say?”

“I’d like that too,” Lucien said, and he found that he meant it.

Cassian’s sudden smile – genuine, and bright as morning sunshine – took up his whole face. “I’ll see you soon, then.” And he leaned in and pressed his chapped lips to Lucien’s cheek.

“See you,” Lucien murmured, watching Cassian make his way to the door, with a dazed expression on his face and one hand to his cheek like he could still feel Cassian’s lips.

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