bunlaozu

[bunlaozu]

hihihihihihihi

i see u

[bunlaozu]

HES SO CUTE AUGH

Sol when he tried to hide his axe but it was twice as big as him. Idk, I just want to see the two mochi on his cheeks.

OOC maybe∘ ∘ ∘ ( °ヮ° ) ?

[bunlaozu]

BACKSTAGE SECRET ! - KIER X G.N READER

This game is called backstage Infatuation! This game is so underrated. So, I will doing some one-shots, because I love the characters!!

Genre: Fluff

Summary: — Backstage, you lost your bracelet, Kethan gifted you! Don't worry, There's someone to help you!

( Reader is a g.n!)

Content Warning : Yandere themes

Did not proof read/Rushed.

You were there.

Wrapped in a too-thin coat, media pass clutched between chilled fingers, lens cap off and camera ready. The cold bit at your ankles, but you barely noticed. Not when tonight mattered so much. Not when it was LUXE’s comeback debut—and Kier’s first solo single release.

The press line was chaos: journalists elbowing for position, flashes flaring like lightning, muttered complaints fogging in the air. Everyone wanted to be the first to capture them all.

You weren’t supposed to be in this area. Technically, your badge said “general coverage.” But you’d arrived before sunrise, staked out the best possible angle, and refused to budge. If anyone asked, you were supposed to be here. This was going to be one of the biggest shows of the year… right?

You flipped through the concert pamphlet for the hundredth time, fingertips numb but careful not to crease the page.

Oriel: dignified, dazzling. Min: cool, collected. Kier…

Your eyes paused on him. His picture was radiant. Almost too perfect. Hair falling in sleek strands over sharp cheekbones. A slight smirk—arrogant, maybe—but only if you didn’t know better.

You did know better. You’d seen him before that—offstage. With no stylists, no cameras. Just Kier, buying two caramel lattes and an absurdly bitter iced americano like it was the most normal thing in the world.

You hadn’t forgotten. Actually, you'd brought a caramel latte today, too. Warm, still tucked in your coat pocket, for yourself!

Were you friends?

He did tell you to think like that.

But could a fan and an idol really be… anything real? Like friends?

He’s up there. Ethereal. Shining. Beautiful. You’re… you.

You smiled to yourself anyway, lips chapped from the wind. Sam was going to freak when you told her about this. Minji had been kind enough to let you off early from work—a miracle.

"I wonder what his single will be like?" you murmured, heart fluttering. "I can’t wait."

And just as the excitement bubbled in your chest, your stomach made a dramatic protest.

You groaned softly. “Seriously? Now?” You doubled slightly. “God… I knew I shouldn’t have let Kethan talk me into that second round of dumplings…”

You bolted for the restroom the second you found an opening—half-jogging past camera rigs and stacks of cables, muttering half-apologies to the tech crew and other reporters. Your stomach churned like a traitor. Of all the times…

You got your business done in record time, hands barely dry as you burst back into the hallway, still holding onto your press pass like it might anchor you to this timeline.

But as you rounded the corner—slam.

You collided with someone. Full force. Something clattered. You went down like a folding chair.

"Aiiyo—!" the woman beneath you yelped. A mop bucket sloshed, something wet hit your shoe, and you realized with dawning horror you had flattened the poor cleaning lady.

"Oh my god—I’m so sorry—!"

You scrambled up, brushing off your pants with shaky hands, cheeks burning.

She blinked at you from the floor, visibly unharmed, just startled. “You okay?”

“I—uh—yeah. Yeah. Totally fine,” you managed, voice tight with embarrassment.

She gave a breathy chuckle, waved you off, and walked away muttering something about “young people with ants in their pants.” You nodded dumbly, offered another apology to her retreating back, and turned to fix your jacket.

That’s when your stomach dropped again—but for a different reason this time.

Your wrist felt bare.

You looked down.

The bracelet. The bracelet.

“Shit.”

Your eyes widened. Not the bracelet you’d been wearing casually for months, not some accessory. No—the one Kethan gave you yesterday. The one he dramatically claime

You had laughed. It had fit weirdly well. You hadn’t taken it off since.

You scanned the floor in panic. Nothing.

You crouched low, heart hammering, crawling slightly as you peered beneath the mop cart, near the baseboards, under your own boots. Nothing. Not even a shimmer.

“No, no, no…” you whispered, biting your lip. You retraced your steps toward the hallway where you’d sprinted earlier, eyes darting to the corners, past spilled mop water and the distant sound of the opening act starting. No time. If you waited any longer, the concert would start and you’d lose your spot in the media pit.

But the bracelet—damn it,

"I got this for you. During I was-."

Fuck you! Y/n!

Luckily, the backstage area was quite small, and you found the janitor's closet in no time. Lost things had to be kept here, right? That was your best bet.

You reached for the doorknob. Locked.

You sighed, stepping back and scanning the hallway again. No janitor. No bracelet. You weren’t giving up just yet.

You started checking corners, crouching behind crates of lighting equipment, peeking under utility carts. You thought it would be a five-minute detour.

But half an hour passed, and you were still no closer.

Your anxiety was scraping at your throat, panic starting to edge in, when—

Knock knock.

A voice from outside. Male. Calm. Curious.

"Anyone in there?"

Your brain malfunctioned.

"Nope!"

You absolute idiot.

"I mean—WAIT—"

Too late.

The door burst open.

And someone stepped in.

"K-Kier?!"

Kier immediately held a finger to his lips. "Shush. Keep it down."

You blinked. Twice. "What are you doing here? Shouldn’t the concert be starting soon?"

He looked over his shoulder, then back at you, hair slightly mussed, eyes brighter than you’d ever seen them.

"I’m just... hiding," he muttered. "My assistant won’t shut up. I know he’s doing his job, but the nagging is driving me insane."

You stared at him. This was weird. Kier—The Moon Prince—just slipped backstage to... hide?

Something was off. He was talking fast. Fidgeting.

"Kier, are you okay?"

He paused. Looked away. Then back again with a gentle smile.

"Can I ask you a favor?"

"Yes?"

He hummed a soft tune. Low, delicate, threading through the silence between you. You didn’t recognize it, but it made your shoulders relax a little.

"Is that part of your single album?" you asked. "It’s good. Really good."

He smiled, a little lopsided. "You think so? I feel a bit better, then. I just hoped you’d really like it."

You tilted your head. "By 'you', you mean your fans?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Last time I checked, you said you were a fan too."

Then he stuck his tongue out at you.

You blinked. Blushed. "Oh—shit. Sorry."

He laughed softly, rubbing the back of his neck. The tension in your chest melted just a bit.

Kier glanced around the cramped closet space with a skeptical eye. “So... what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be out there with the others, cheering like a proper fan?”

You laughed, a little too loud. Nervous. “I, uh... lost something. A bracelet. It was a gift.”

At that, the teasing edge in his voice dulled. “Important?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Kethan gave it to me yesterday. It’s dumb, but—”

“Not dumb,” Kier cut in, his gaze surprisingly sharp. “It matters to you. So it matters.”

Before you could even thank him, he clapped his hands once with mock drama. “Alright then. Operation Rescue Sparkly Thing is a go.”

You blinked. “That’s seriously the name we’re going with?”

He glanced at you sideways with a grin. “Don’t sass your rescuer.”

He crouched down and began scanning the dim floor under a metal shelf, muttering under his breath, “...if I were a bracelet, where would I hide? Maybe under some lost dignity…”

You crouched beside him. The space was cramped, filled with wires, old props, and dust, the air sharp with disinfectant.

“Thanks, Kier. You really don’t have to—”

“I want to.” His voice was soft this time, no teasing. Just truth. It made something squeeze warm and tight in your chest.

You both kept searching in silence, eyes scanning every shadow. At one point, Kier pointed toward the tablet you’d dropped earlier.

“You checked under that?”

You waved it off. “I did. I swear, it’s not there—”

“Humor me.”

You sighed and moved to lift the tablet. You both leaned in at the same time, reaching—and didn’t notice how close you’d gotten until—

Thump.

Your shoulders bumped, then your hands, and then—Kier’s balance tilted forward. In the most embarrassing, slow-motion moment imaginable, he fell.

Right on top of you.

You landed flat on your back with a soft “oof,” the air rushing out of your lungs. Kier didn’t hit you hard, but his weight was unmistakable, his body flush against yours.

His face was hidden in the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

You froze.

“I—I’m so sorry!” you blurted, trying to sit up, but his hand pressed gently against your side.

“Wait.”

That was all he said. Just wait.

So... you did.

For a heartbeat, maybe two, maybe more, he stayed there. His breath slow. His voice low, nearly a whisper.

“You smell nice,” he mumbled, the words barely making sense. “Like... caramel.”

You didn’t catch the flicker in his eyes as he slowly pushed himself up. You didn’t see the sudden heat, the way his pupils had dilated, that half-mad glint he tried to blink away too late...

You only saw the soft smile he wore when he looked down at you.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. You?”

“Peachy.” He stood and held out a hand. You took it.

Still no sign of the bracelet.

You both went back to searching.

Kier crouched beside you, trailing his fingers lazily over the floor, but you were the one truly focused—moving crates, lifting wires, mumbling to yourself. “Ugh, it must’ve fallen when I tripped on that mop. God, I’m such a klutz…”

He hummed. Low. Noncommittal.

“...It’s just—Kethan gave it to me, you know? My best friend since forever... He came back a few weeks ago, He gave it to me...." You laughed.

Kier froze.

You didn’t notice. Still talking. Still smiling.

“We used to build little cardboard forts after school, pretend we were superheroes.. Said he’d be ��Magma Boy’ and melt anyone who messed with me.”

You didn’t see it—how Kier’s shoulders tensed. How his gaze dropped, no longer scanning the floor,with such intensity it might’ve burned a hole clean through.

Kethan.

He hadn’t said a word yet, and that wasn’t like him.

“Kier?” you asked, still grinning. “You okay?”

“Mm.” His voice came tight, but practiced. Still smooth. Still sweet. “Yeah. Just thinking.”

He stood. A slow, precise movement.

You blinked up at him. “You sure?”

He smiled down at you. It didn’t reach his eyes.

“That bracelet,” he said softly. “It really means that much to you?”

“Of course,” you said without hesitation. “It’s from Kethan.”

Kier tilted his head, like a curious cat. His hands were in his coat pockets now. One foot slightly forward. Blocking your exit.

You didn’t notice.

Not yet.

"That nickname," he echoed, voice low. Too low. “Magma Boy.”

You chuckled. “Yeah. Dumb, right?”

“Hilarious.” The smile widened. “So… are you close?”

You blinked. “What, with Kethan? Yeah, of course. He’s my—” You were still searching..

Kier took a slow, deliberate step forward.

“He’s your what?”

“...My friend,” you said, laughing nervously. “My best friend.”

Kier nodded. Just once.

“Right.”

His voice was smooth now. Velvet over a blade. Carefully controlled. He didn’t want to scare you.

Not yet.

But inside, the thoughts spiraled.

HE tries to take you.

From him.

Even before he had you.

And still—still—you kept smiling about someone else.

He could melt people, huh?

How cute.

Kier leaned down, brushing invisible dust from your sleeve with gentle fingers. His eyes met yours—warm, blue beautiful.

And yet—

"Don’t worry," he murmured. "I’ll help you find it. I’m very good at finding things…”

His fingers lingered.

His voice dropped an octave.

“…and keeping them.”

You dusted off your knees, still crouching as you scanned the floor, and glanced through the cracked door toward the faint thrum of the crowd outside.

“Sheesh,” you muttered. “The fans are really out there in full force tonight.”

Kier shifted beside you, standing straighter as he peeked through the door too. “I’m honestly surprised this many showed up,” he murmured. “It’s windy as hell out there. Felt like my ears were gonna freeze off earlier.”

You smiled. “Well, that’s fans for you. fans especially. Rain, snow, war—they’ll still show up.”

He chuckled, soft. “I guess that’s what 'fan' means, huh? Fanatic.”

“Yeah,” you said, pulling your coat tighter. “But it doesn’t always have to mean crazy. Just… passionate.”

Kier’s expression shifted—just slightly. “I’m happy to be on stage again,” he said, voice lower now, slower.

You nodded, but caught the flicker in his eyes.

“…But?” you prompted.

“…But I hate those."

You blinked.

He didn’t elaborate immediately, so you tilted your head. “Did something happen?”

Kier’s gaze drifted toward the far wall, as if he were looking into a memory instead of the dim backstage space.

“During our first interview as LUXE,” he said slowly, “we were in this tiny studio. Three chairs. One little lamp above us. We were just rookies. I looked up, and something felt off.”

You stayed quiet, listening.

“The bulb in the lamp was tinted weird. When I looked closer, I realized it wasn’t just a bulb. There was a lens in it. A camera. Hidden. Filming us.”

You straightened a little. “I heard about that—”

“My members were answering questions, laughing, totally unaware. So I pretended to take selfies. Tilted my phone just right. Took a few shots of the lamp.”

Kier’s jaw tightened.

“That’s when Aurora Rising Records stepped in. Replaced the entire staff team. Turned out one of the production staff was actually a fan. In disguise. Pretending to work there, just to spy on us.”

You stared at him.

“That’s… awful.”

He looked back at you then.

And smiled.

But there was something quieter about it. Not fake. Just… weathered.

“I hate crazy fans,” he repeated. “But it’s not just that. The way they want to own you. Break pieces off of you. Call it love.”

You didn’t know what to say.

Until he looked at you again—and that smile shifted. Softened.

“…But you,” he said.

Your stomach fluttered. “Me?”

“You never screamed at me,” he said plainly. “Never shoved a phone in my face. Never begged me for anything.”

You flushed, mouth opening—closing.

“Every time I saw you,” he continued, “you were just… quiet. Present. Kind.”

He reached out, brushing a loose thread off your sleeve. His fingers were gentle.

“You treated me like a person,” he said. “Even though you’re a fan… you’re a real one. A gen one. The kind people forget exist.”

You blinked. “Kier, I…”

Your voice caught.

He smiled again—this time, soft and warm. Like moonlight instead of stage lights.

“Thank you,” he said. “For that.”

You looked down at the dusty floor, eyes beginning to sting.

You didn’t get it.

Why did things like this always happen?

It was just a bracelet—but it wasn’t just a bracelet. Kethan gave it to you.Who always remembered things when no one else did. He’d given it to you yesterday-

Now it was gone. Your chest hurt just thinking about it.

“…Hey.”

You looked up.

Kier was watching you, the playfulness gone now—replaced with something quieter. Something… concerned.

“I’ll let my staff know,” he said gently. “We’ll find it. I promise.”

You stared at him. The stage was probably about to start any minute. He shouldn’t even be back here.

“But the show—”

“There’s still a few minutes.” He tilted his head. “Let me help, alright? I’ll get them on it.”

Your throat closed up a little. You hated being seen like this. Teary-eyed. Small.

You didn’t know what else to do—so you reached into your coat and pulled out the warm paper cup you'd forgotten you were even holding.

The caramel latte. The one you'd bought for yourself. The one you almost wanted to give him… just in case you saw him.

You shoved it toward him with both hands.

He blinked, surprised. “...What’s this?”

You kept your face straight. “You helped me. I wanted to thank you.”

He just stared at the cup.

“There’s nothing mixed in it,” you added flatly. “Just.."

He burst out laughing—eyes crinkling, face flushing a soft pink. He took it from you, his fingers brushing yours briefly.

“...It’s my favorite drink,” he said quietly, smiling like you’d handed him something sacred.

You blinked. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he said. “You remembered that?”

“No,” you admitted. “But I’ll remember it now.”

He looked at you—really looked at you—and then took a long sip from the latte.

When he lowered the cup, something about him seemed looser. Warmer.

“Thanks,” he said, voice smooth. “I feel a lot better now.”

Seeing him smile, made you smile too..

Kier stared at you for a moment, then without warning, pulled you into a hug.

It wasn’t brief, either.

His arms circled around your shoulders with warmth and a kind of desperate gentleness, like you were something he was afraid to let go of. You stiffened for a second—caught off guard—but quickly melted into it.

“I feel better too,” you whispered into his chest.

You felt him exhale against the crown of your head, a little softer this time.

When you finally pulled away, you smiled, still a little dazed. “Thank you, Kier. Seriously.”

He only nodded, eyes unreadable. That soft smile back on his lips.

You stepped away, turning to leave before you could overthink it. The hallway echoed with your retreating steps.

Idols are human too, you thought. Not just distant, glowing stars on stage. They get tired. They get frustrated. They hide in janitor closets and complain about assistants. They drink lattes and help search for lost bracelets and… they hug.

From now on, you promised yourself, you'd treat idols better.

Not like gods. Not like dolls.

Like people.

Like him.

You disappeared around the corner.

Meanwhile, back in the cramped space of the janitor’s closet, Kier exhaled slowly.

His shoulders dropped.

Then his fingers reached into the pocket of his oversized jacket.

There it was. The bracelet.

That thing.

His expression warped—dark, twisted, flat with disdain. That cursed trinket—tacky, mismatched, with a fraying cord and an ugly little bead in the shape of a cartoon skull.

He gave you this?

His jaw clenched. His lips curled into something cruel.

He remembered how you looked while talking about Kethan—laughing softly, eyes gleaming with memory. It burned. It burned.

You were his muse. His light. His obsession. Not Kethan’s. Not anyone’s. You had no idea what you did to him—how deep you'd sunk into him. Into his skin, his veins, his voice.

Ugly. Cheap. It doesn’t suit you.

It burned him just to imagine it on your wrist. Something from him. Some other boy. Some fool who thought he could mark you with a trinket.

He could get something way more expensive or pretty....

Still staring at the bracelet, Kier crouched. Placed it on the floor like a delicate relic.

Then stood.

And drove his boot down hard.

Once.

Twice.

Again.

He hated it.

The crunch of cheap beads and snapped cord echoed like tiny bones.

He smiled, expression pitch-black and wild under the soft closet light.

“Mine,” he muttered, voice venom-laced silk.

You’re my muse. My only one. You have no choice.

I will claim you.

The broken shards glittered at his feet.

And Kier—Kier smiled again. Beautiful. Chilling.

The stage lights began to rise.

Time to put on a show. For the fans. For the world. But mostly… For you.

[bunlaozu]

LUXE!!

[bunlaozu]

April Showers

[Redacted] X Reader

type: angst? fluff at the end for u

word count: 1881

warnings: cw for lots of tears

this one is formatted a bit differently, i probably won't develop any sort of style for this for a while but! this time i have some hurt comfort for u, can u tell i love Redacted :3

once again pls don't mind the grammar,,, i was having it edited but ultimately decided to post it before it was finished for one of my friends, ty glasses for ur work tho <33

It was late April, and the spring rains finally decided to roll through Corland bay. The rain kept the two of you inside, as it did most Sundays, too dreary and wet to make use of the final day of the weekend before a new work week began. Usually, Sundays were chore days, a time for sweeping the floors, doing leftover dishes from the previous day, and washing the pile of work clothes from the previous week that no one had had the energy to do.

All the chores were done now and the late afternoon haze cast a cool blue on the living room behind half closed curtains.The setting sun was absent behind thick heavy clouds that rumbled with unshed rain and carried along cool ocean swept winds. The tv was set to a soft volume, some reality show played out its overly obnoxious sound effects that usually, as per routine, was only on for you to giggle at. Redacted laid in his usual spot at the curve of the L-shaped couch, the cushions pressed in from the times the two of you spent in this exact space week after week, with you in his arms watching bad late night tv. He looked like a spoiled cat this way, lounged out on bent cushions not meant for cats to sit on, but clearly understood no one would have the heart to force him up.

Usually, this time spent was relaxing; something soothing and soft before the start of a new stressful work week while Redacted softly ran his fingers through your hair and looked at his phone with the other, a routine.

Tonight was different. Maybe it was the deep thunder rolling through the house, cutting through the gentle evening sounds, or the patter of heavy rains beginning against the large living room panes. Maybe it was the lack of time spent at home this weekend, Friday spent in overtime, errands around the bay, or unfortunate inconveniences keeping you from home. Maybe it was none of that or maybe it was just this; the tv on low just for you, the soft blanket thrown over your legs, your favorite even, the fingers carding softly through your hair and the gentle breaths from above, reminding you that you weren't alone tonight or any night.

Your heart felt tight in your chest and your breath felt rough in a drowning sort of way, like maybe the heavy rains had been pouring into your chest this whole time creating a pool of murky reds. It had clung like a sharp thorned vine all week, small things keeping you from home, little things that maybe would be a bigger fight a week from now lingering stuck to your mind like mold. You wondered to yourself how you'd got here, after only a few months now living together domestically, happy, perfect.. but when did anything perfect stay as it was.

Of course nothing had changed, Redacted was nothing but attentive and sweet, charming and teasing, careful and considerate, and yet. You stared ahead at the small table below your tv where you kept your small knick knacks and plants that you decorated your home together with, the tv drone becoming a faded buzz in the background. It was a small shard of your home, a mix of the both of you so simple but was it really? Maybe tonight was different, maybe one day Redacted would stop meaning everything he said, everything he did for you.. he changed once entirely in the beginning, didn't he? You thought with a growing unease of the pink and pastels, the soft sanitary version you'd been shown of your love when you'd met. It wasn't that it was for a lack of trust in him that you spiraled, but more the question, when will he lose his trust in me? When will I be nothing?

It didn't take too long for him to notice your unnatural stillness, the kind of forced stillness that annoyingly makes you twitch anyways because of course he would notice, his eyes are only ever on you as if the tv’s glow didn't exist. Redacted's fingers stilled in your hair as he shifted slightly under where your head laid, his gentle concern radiating from him in waves.

"Angel..?" his voice was only just above a whisper, giving the impression he didn't want to break the softness of the evening lest you shatter. (so sweet, too sweet, undeserving.) He tugged you gently upward off his lap to guide your head onto his chest, holding you closer and bringing the soft throw blanket previously on your legs, back around your shoulders.

"Are you ok? Tell me so I can help." he murmured, his fingers finding their way back to your hair to play with. Your eyes stung the moment the words left him, the curtains you were facing going blurry from the water logging your eyes as you refused to look his way. It felt so deeply unfair to have this, the ocean deep divine worship of such a perfect person after so many years apart, your own doing.

Despite this you didn't move, putting a blanket covered hand over your eyes to pad away the warm tears only made worse by the frustration that they fell at all, before finally speaking up in a soft crackling cadence. "You.. you love me- right? Are you.. sure this is what you want?" The second the words left your mouth you cringed, threatening to shy away from his gentle ministrations in an effort to escape the suffocating sweetness.

Redacted seemed to falter for only a moment at the question, a stillness in his frame and a pause in his petting that was still just enough to notice, making you feel unusually cold. “‘Course i love you m’ angel, did.. I say somethin'?" he said with nothing but sincerity, his own voice seeming raw from such an accusation. Redacted seemed not angry or sad, only worried about anything he'd done that could have given you doubt today.

A choked off sob finally bubbled out of your throat, practically suffocating your words. "No! I.. what if? You have me, what's next? What if that's just enough and then-" the words ended in an agonized sound as you did your best to turn away from him to hide your tears. “Wha- what if i get boring one day? or- what if you find someone better? I d-dont want you to go..” the words came out more as a wobbly whine, the tears choking you every few moments as if they didn't wish the words to be said. the evening seemed daunting in a way, the end of the week, the end of a day, the start of a storm.

He cut you off gently before you can begin again with a kiss, not one unkind or meant to silence you but a bone deep compassion for your anxieties. The salt of the tears and the sweetness of cherry and mint mixing together on your lips was a grounding combination, a balm on your cracked open vine wrapped chest. He kissed you and kissed you, breathing sweet nothings and a bottomless devotion into your mouth till the tears finally slowed. His warm steady hands on your cheeks drew soft stars on your skin, reminding you exactly where you were.

He pulled back only just enough to run his stormy blue over your face, a sort of sad smile running into the creases of his face and behind his eyes looking almost like the clouds just outside the windows. "I love you. s'you and always you, y'hear?" he said resolutely, brushing a strand of hair from your face in a gentle affection so painfully sweet that the tears poured down your cheeks silently in fat droplets you were helpless to stop.

"Only you... only you." he practically prayed into your skin as he kissed your temple, your nose, your cheeks, kissing until you choked out a wet broken giggle. Redacted's smile at the sound was like the sunset after heavy rains, a soft glowing thing but this sunset was only for you. He kept you there like this, lavishing prayers of love upon your skin with each gentle caress and kiss for a limitless amount of time, maybe minutes or hours or no time at all.

"I love you too, y'know? And- and so sometimes I think- I'm just glad, is all.." you said softly with a sniffle, trying to wipe your face with the back of your hand only for your partner to catch your wrist. Redacted gently pulled your hand to his chest instead before taking his own scarred fingers to gently swipe the water away, the rough pad of his fingers so light on your cheeks it was almost as if he was swiping the rain droplets from a petal. "Well stop thinkin' so much hm? It’s bad f'you." he said with that grin of his, the one that reminded you of sunny afternoons at lake Bluemoss and multi-colored band-aids, the one you couldn't help grin back at no matter how hard you tried.

He held you against his chest and rocked you back and forth gently, where nothing needed to be said because this already meant everything. The silence wasn't a deafening thing, it was something in company with the storm pattering against the windows and the love inside your home that created its own noise. Suddenly the thunder wasn't so loud in your ears and the rain wasn't so heavy, maybe it would be a clear Monday morning tomorrow and the work ahead wasn't so crushing. You laid there slowly relaxing into his warm hold, dozing lightly to the sound of his heartbeat and the rhythm of his breaths against your ear.

-

The next moment you blinked your eyes open you were alone on the sofa with the throw blanket drawn up to your shoulders. The windows were peacefully dark now and the warm light of the kitchen replaced the earlier evening glow. The rain was only a pitter patter dying as the night crept in, making way for a chilly breezy morning tomorrow. As you sat up confused and exhausted and looked around, Redacted was approaching the couch with a bag of take out and two plates in hand, an exasperated smile on his face seeing you'd immediately woken up.

"Jus' can't let me surprise you, hm? I bought your favorite. Let's eat yea?" he said as he sat down and opened up the delicious smelling paper bag, making the both of you plates full of warm, amazing smelling food.

The rest of the evening was full of soft laughter and a better tv show, ending how it began with your head in his lap and his hands in your hair. The laundry got done eventually of course not by you, and the dishes were somehow done before the morning as well even if you'd forgotten to help with that in the sleepy haze post cry. Maybe he did need to carry you to bed at the end of the night too but maybe pretending to be asleep for that bit was worth it.

[bunlaozu]

Missing you.

[Redacted] X Reader

type: fluff (this time)

word count: 1614 (not super long this time)

warnings: none! (also this time, more interesting stuffs in the future tho!)

hai this is gonna be basically my intro to tumblr! first post yayyy (੭˃ᴗ˂)੭

i thought to myself hey, what is ren really like at home? and im sure my moots will know what i rly think of him but.. i thought it would be cute to write how i think he'd act a couple years post game, a small domestic moment i thought up for u (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

(also pls pls ignore my bad grammar and punctuation, this is very beta)

You and Redacted had been living together quite a while now, almost two years! Really it was just shy of perfect, something was always happening in your apartment with them, some project or puzzle or new game they'd decided you must play together. This weekend was particularly lazy, with nothing to do actively around the house having done all the chores alone for once.

See, Redacted, you'd discovered early into your relationship, was a nerd. He loved his computers and his small robots, he loved to build and tinker and usually left his office quite a mess. He'd found a part he needed for his latest project off some internet forum, something no longer produced, "rare", he'd said. The only downside is that the pickup was almost 4 hours inland, meaning he'd have to be gone almost the entire day.

Redacted had slid out of your bed much too early in the morning and bade you a kiss goodbye, whispering you softly back to sleep before you'd even really noticed. That meant you hadn't seen him properly since the night before, which.. was fine, and it was normal for partners to be busy. but you missed him anyways, terribly even, especially in his absence of usual texts he sent constantly when not home.

It was about 7pm now and the blood red sunset on the beach cast a glow into your home, spreading across the pristine white marble flooring almost like spilled juice. you stood in the kitchen having decided to cook for once, in Redacted's absence who usually always insisted to do this. You stood at the stove, stupid pun apron on and wooden spoon in hand making spam fried rice with a fruit tart dish in the oven. It wasn't much but it was something he loved and you hoped to surprise him with it when he got home tonight, god willing it be before midnight since the location app the two of you shared wasn't picking him up anymore.

You paused a moment to admire the shining gold band on your left hand, a pretty diamond nestled in ornate but simple patterns. Not that it could be seen but when Redacted had proposed to you just 6 months ago you'd discovered he'd had your rings engraved, just a simple “always” but it was perfect. The metal glinted in the light of the kitchen and it brought a soft smile to your face before eventually you needed to pay attention to the food on the stove again but with a warm feeling throughout.

You stood in the kitchen humming along to some new love song off the radio, tapping the end of the spoon against the counter before ultimately deciding to use it as a microphone because, why not? No one was home after all. The sounds of the stove vent running and the sizzling of the rice in the pan coupled with the music covered anything else, a small little bubble of life which a certain someone was hearing from the foyer as he snuck through the front door.

You didn't notice a thing, eyes closed having a playful moment to yourself until large warm arms wrapped around your waist and picked you up for a spin. you squealed in surprise and wiggled around in his arms gleefully, wanting to get a look at your lover after a whole day gone. "I'm home~ did'ya miss me?" his low warm voice hummed beside your ear, making you giggle in his hold and immediately reach to shut off the stove knowing he was too clingy to allow you to continue cooking.

"Yes i missed you!! Let me go!!" his arms loosened around you just enough for you to spin around, coming chest to delicate paper with him and gasping the moment you saw what he held close. Between the two of you was a beautiful bouquet of flowers, an entire spring mix of beautiful blues and whites and purples with his smiling hopeful face above the flowers. "What do y-" "I love them!!! They're so beautiful, did you know you're my favorite?" you burst out not even letting him ask, taking the bouquet gently from his hold before leaping into his arms and pressing a hard kiss to his lips.

The two of you stood like that for a moment, wrapped up in each other with Redacted's hands running up and down your sides in warm paths till he seemingly had a new idea. He pressed you back and back and back, practically laying you down on the counter top while his kisses migrated across your face, over your hair, anywhere he could reach. his warm breath raised goosebumps across your skin and his smile pressed into your skin caused a new shiver, making you feel much too warm for an already toasty kitchen. "What are you.. a dog? All over me like a puppy.." you mumbled softly with a lovesick expression, hardly even an attempt at discouraging his overeager behavior.

"Missed you.. Can i not miss you? Missed you all day, missed you so much.." he rumbled softly against your skin where his mouth was pressed, hardly even kissing anymore so much as placing his mouth against your skin just to feel. He whispered the words reverently over and over, pressing the sentiment marrow deep to somewhere it would stick and take hold there, something that would grow. Redacted pressed his nose to your neck for a deep slow inhale, making you giggle at the sensation and finally decide to try and push him away while you squirmed in his arms. This only made things worse when he latched onto your waist tighter with a new determined look in his eyes not hiding the sparkle of mischief.

He left small breaths across your jaw and onto your face, pressing feather light kisses and making a point to be absolutely as close as possible. The cool brush from his nose only tickled worse but he refused to let up, leaving a delicate trail of breathy kisses all over your face and going as far to press his nose to yours, holding just like that for a moment. He slowly opened his mouth and bit on the tip of your nose, making you yelp in surprise and scrunch up with distaste. Redacted practically shook above you in a silent laughter, kissing the small nip better in a sincere apology with his soft eyelashes fluttering into a slightly remorseful smile.

"Redacted.. what is this? What are you even doing?" you said soft and endlessly fond, giving in and closing your eyes to his smirk pressed against your cheek, allowing him his fill of some much needed love. Once he started to nibble on your skin again you finally decided to gently put a hand over his mouth, snickering softly when he just started to gently nip and kiss at your fingers instead. You meant to push him away till his lips met the gold band on your finger, giving it a special devotion with your hand cradled between his own as if he held something to be worshipped. The sight was almost too much to bear, something fuzzy and warm tightening in your chest reminding you that you had this, he really was yours.

"Again, what'll i do with you??" you sighed with the fondest smile and a certain helplessness to your voice as he finally glanced up and your eyes met soft blue, a ghost of a hidden grin on his face, clearly very proud of himself. "Keep me?" he murmured in return, clearly gearing up to dive back in for more kisses which meant quickly squirming away off of the counter, wagging a finger in his direction.

"No more of you! Our dinner will get cold and then what?" you scolded, picking up your discarded wooden spoon to wave in his face. Redacted immediately crossed his arms and puffed his cheeks out in a pout, giving a small kick to the floor with a socked foot like there was any dirt to nudge while glancing up at you to see if his little show was working. "But.. y’could always reheat it..." he said petulantly, reaching for you and not expecting you to dance away, a smile on your face.

He reached for you again with a bit more speed and then it quickly became a game of cat and mouse, doing your best to slip and dodge from his reach while he became continuously competitive. He chased after you out of the kitchen and in front of the couch, smiling so hard it hurt and having worked up a slight pant. when he lunged for you this time you let him catch you, falling back onto the couch with a loud oof and a series of wheezing laughs knocking the breath from you both.

you reached up a hand to cup his cheek, brushing a thumb over the gentle flush from the exertion and excitement. "Got it out of your system? Can we have dinner now?" you said wryly, looking up at him with your best unamused expression. He put on an overly dramatic thinking face and hummed softly, looking around as if this were the hardest thing in the world to decide. his hands ran warm up and down your sides, sliding slowly over the skin under your shirt taking deliberately long touches to burn the feeling of his rough fingers into your skin. Redacted made a sound of affirmation and looked down at you with a smile "Nope. Missed you.”

Needless to say, dinner did need to be reheated and the tart was a little bit too toasty to taste good.