#he isn't sure how to feel about the orb

[wonryllis]

WHEN THEY GET CAUGHT KISSING YOU.

﹙ ⌕ ﹚ 𝓅𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝗌 ㅤ𝑜𝑓. enhypen kissing their situationship and boom! caught. contains fem!r, kissing & kissing, embarrassed & bold enha, suggestive pg 16. wc 3090 ㅠㅠ, 420 something each. check out the d𝒾rectory? stat agora hills inspo.

𝖪𝖨𝖲𝖲𝖨𝖭𝖦 𝖠𝖭𝖣 𝖧𝖮𝖯𝖤 𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖸 𝖢𝖠𝖴𝖦𝖧𝖳 𝖴𝖲──────𝑎𝑙𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑦, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎.

𝖫𝖤𝖤 𝖧𝖤𝖤𝖲𝖤𝖴𝖭𝖦

“they won't find us i promise,” heeseung tries to reassure you, taking a step forward and closing the already negligible space between the two of you. the light from the vents at the top shinning right into his eyes and onto your lips. janitor's closet― your gaze boring into his brown orbs; his falling onto your gloss glimmering against the dark― a kiss that steals your breath.

his arms pull you close by the curve of your waist, gripping the flesh as the kiss grows intense, heavy breaths and sloppy tongues.

“why are we even hiding?” you pant out between the kisses, holding him close and as hooked onto the whole idea of a secret thing. this was lee heeseung. no, this is him. secret flings and hookups, no strings attached & no efforts to make it work. at least that's what you knew of him.

he pulls away from the kiss for a moment, looking straight into your eyes,“i thought you liked it? the whole ‘keeping it a secret’, the thrill of trying not to get caught?” but here he is, doing things you supposedly like, putting in effort.

“isn't this how you are?” casual, clandestine and off the record defined him in your world. “no god, not with you,” his voice is rasp with defence, words tumbling out in a brisk edge. he is not what you think he is. and to him you are so much more than you ever could imagine to be. his lips brush against yours,”i could never be that with you. i want you so much, you have no idea.” and he goes in for another kiss, this time more intimate and deep.

“i swear i saw him go in here!” sunoo's voice echoes outside in the corridor, “what would he even be doing in there?” and before you both can even register the situation, too lost in the kiss, jay hurtles the door open.

you immediately push heeseung away, his steps languid as he staggers back slightly. annoyed and frustrated at his friends for ruining the moment.

jay stands still by the door, holding it open while sunoo comes over to see what's going on. catching sight of the disheveled appearances and gasping breaths, smudged gloss and flushed faces― and a very bummed out heeseung running his fingers through his hair, throwing glare after glare.

“y'all were..” the two intruders trail off in shock. which only intensifies after heeseung slams the door shut in their faces,”busy.” and gets busy with you again.

𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖪 𝖩𝖮𝖭𝖦𝖲𝖤𝖮𝖭𝖦

“are you sure the windows are tinted?” your question throws jay off for a second, of course it's valid to be worried about that. but you are literally in an empty parking lot, only about to kiss, not commit a crime or violate the laws of human decency. it'll just be a kiss, right?

“i’m sure, now come here,” his fingers wrap around your wrist, urging you to get onto his lap in the driver's seat. sighing in contentment once he feels you settle down comfortably. hands immediately reaching up to your waist in a delicate embrace. “don’t worry so much,” his voice is soft and calm, a high contrast to his heart skipping lanes in his chest.

“just think about me, focus on me,” words barely above a whisper before he kisses you.

his lips are chapped yet when they move against your own, they feel soft; a hint of champagne and waft of honey, floral notes and fruity taste of his drink from earlier at the after party. your hands slide around the back of his neck, tugging at the strands of his hair. faint sighs and low gasps fill the air, the tight space feeling sultry, growing fervid by the second.

it's dream-like, way too good and like floating in the clouds but the loud ringing of jay's phone snaps you both out of it.

riki is calling, the screen shows. he should probably pick it up. he should. yet you both collectively decide he can wait. everyone and everything besides the kiss can wait.

and that turns out to be a mistake. for not even five seconds into the second kiss, there's a thud against the window, riki’s face planted on the glass as he tries to look in,”he's in here jake!” he shouts in a quick look over behind him.

it startles you both, flinching out of the kiss. “jay you sai―” at your instant panic, jay is quick to shush you back into another kiss,”i know, i know. it really is tinted don't worry. they're just bluffing,” he reassures you, his mouth closing in on your top lip in a gentle suck.

“they're literally eating each other's face off! i told y'all they're probably together!” riki’s voice echoes into the parking lot, followed by jake's loud ass laugh. making both you and jay choke mid-kiss as you hop back into your seat and jay rushes out the car to keep their mouths shut.

“haven't y'all heard of privacy!” he scolds, his face hot red with embarrassment, words rolling off in a splutter.

𝖲𝖨𝖬 𝖩𝖠𝖤𝖸𝖴𝖭

“jake anyone could walk in!” you slap his chest in a protest, leaning away as he tries to pull you into a kiss again and again. ‘just a kiss’ he insists, but with you straddling his lap, his thighs spread apart and your legs on either side of him― it's impossible. this is jake sim we are talking about; and this guy, from what you have come to know, will turn anything into a makeout session.

“it's my room, they won't just barge in. trust me,” he tucks away the strands of hair falling into your face, his eyes and his voice dripping with desperation; hands moving to trail all over you in attempts to persuade you.

and it works, it takes you just one moment of recollection: the last time you made out with him, same place, same way. and you give in. how could you even resist a guy like this? if you could have, you wouldn't have been in a freaking situationship with him out of all things in the world of romance.

your lips clash against each other, like you haven't kissed in ages. mouths literally devouring and sucking the life out of the heart and the breath out of the lungs. no words exchanged, only muffled sounds and soft gasps.

“fuck your lips are so soft,” jake mumbles between the kiss,”so kissable” unable to hold his thoughts to himself. so drunk, so gone; he doesn't notice heeseung walking in on you both.

not for a few seconds at least, only bothering to cast him a glance over your shoulder before closing his eyes again. leaving heeseung with his jaw slacked, dumbfounded and stunned all at the same time. he takes it as a cue to leave and let the others know not to disturb you both. the last thing he catches glimpse of being your wide eyes realizing he had come in.

“you said no one would walk in!” you immediately complain at the sound of the door creaking close behind heeseung.

“well,” jake sits slack against the headboard, not concerned in the slightest. the amount of care jake could give in a situation like this might as well be equivalent to a speck of dust in the oh mighty universe. but he loved the way your face flushed warm at having been caught.

“it's not like we were trying to hide this. i’m pretty sure everyone already knows how things are between us,” he shrugs, holding you close; eyes locked with yours in a sultry yet genuine gaze,“and how much more things could be.”

𝖯𝖠𝖱𝖪 𝖲𝖴𝖭𝖦𝖧𝖮𝖮𝖭

“never took you for this type,” sunghoon grins against your lips, breath hitting your cheeks warm and uneven. enjoying the way you seem to whine about not letting you kiss him; park sunghoon is a lot of things, but tease? tease is one that gives him life. it's not him, if he doesn't tease the fuck out of you before draining your life force with a kiss that's borderline psychotic.

and right now, with you perched atop the bathroom counter of jungwon's unit with the others right in the other room― sunghoon is exactly in the mood to get the situation heated. or to be more precise, to get caught.

“you were the one who kept teasing me in front of the others! i thought you wanted to― well, isn't this what you wanted too?” you grab his collar to keep him from leaning away, grazing your lips over his to tempt him. he isn't your man yet, but you absolutely know how to have him give in.

“i do, i want it.” his hands roam across the expanse of your back, dropping down to your thighs and tugging you forward. head tilting and leaning in to capture you in a kiss. park sunghoon is a tease, definitely; but he's also whipped.

so much so, he can't resist you even with all his self control working paid overtime.

it doesn't take long for the others to notice your absence, jungwon in particular running around to find you two for dinner. looking everywhere until he hears the shuffling inside the bathroom. he knocks once. twice. and when there's no response he turns the knob finding the door unlocked (that was sunghoon!!!).

“oh my god,” jungwon's exasperates, mood turning sour with embarrassment. your eyes shoot open at his voice, instantly trying to push sunghoon away but damn this guy keeps coming back each time and pulling you into the kiss again.

his ears burning red and the veins in his neck popping out yet he still wouldn't stop. he just can't, he physical can't.

“right in my bathroom? really? and you still going?” the screws in jungwon's brain rust out at he watches the scene unfold. “so sorry, jungwon,” you manage to mumble out, hitting against sunghoon’s chest in a warning.

it only makes him trail the kisses down your jaw and along the curve of your neck, burying his face into the crook in an attempt to keep smooching you in any way he can.

“he's really sorry i swear!” you yell out between the kisses, right before jungwon closes the door.

𝖪𝖨𝖬 𝖲𝖤𝖮𝖭𝖶𝖮𝖮

“sunoo,” you mumble in a soft whine, eyes trained on him while he works out. jealous of the dumbbells in his hand, seemingly stealing his attention off of you. his hum of response is affectionate, staring back at you in a ‘what is it?’ look.

“sunoo,” you whine again, louder this time. unable to just watch him when all you wanted was to kiss the life out of his lips. he stops mid-set, placing the weights back in their spot and walks over to where you sit at his desk. just sit and look pretty for me; god you'd do that so well.

he leans over you, hands resting on either side of the chair,”what is it that you want baby?” oh how much you loved this side of him. the side of him that made you believe this was more than it was.

your arms reach out to hook around his neck, pulling yourself up and pushing him against the edge of the desk in a desperate effort to kiss. lips pressing into his in a brief peck at first,”wanna kiss you.”

“jungwon and jake are right outside,” he warns, though not attempting to stop you at all. not even thinking of it. sitting against the edge, letting you pepper as many kisses as you want. “don't you want to kiss me?” you mutter out between the little smooches, twisting sunoo's heart with the tone of disappointment lacing your words and the loss of your touch following it.

“of course i want to baby. i always do,” his voice is low and full of yearning, the burning itch, the craze to be close again. as close as possible. his lips hovering over yours as he pulls you back against him, straight into a kiss. eyes half closed staring down at each other's mouth, parted and quite literally nibbling and sucking, far from gentle or friendly― at all in that sense.

the scent of your shampoo and the taste of your familiar lipbalm is dizzying, and sunoo wonders how he ever managed to just be a friend at one point―

“can't believe i thought you were just friends,” jake barges in, in a hurry, stopping in his tracks at the sight of you both. making sunoo pull away immediately, breathless and sweaty as he responds as casually as he can,”did you need something?” as if he wasn't just about to shove his tongue down your throat.

“um.. yeah―” you yank sunoo back, planting sloppy kisses on his lips and jake’s words die down in a feeble whisper,”i forgot..”

“baby― i mean y/n, wait―” if sunoo wasn't embarrassed enough earlier, he definitely was beyond humanely possible right now, trying to keep you off of him while jake watched and ultimately left with a shake of his head.

𝖸𝖠𝖭𝖦 𝖩𝖴𝖭𝖦𝖶𝖮𝖭

the silence in the air feels thick, stuffed full of tension. and it seems to get hotter by each passing second. your argument with jungwon hanging aloof within a myriad of questions unanswered; what are we? are we even supposed to argue like this? are we supposed to feel like this? jealous, possessive and clinging on to the ache that came along with this undefined relationship.

“i know i said i didn't want anything serious,” jungwon's voice pierces through the soft running of the tapwater behind you, shaky and choked with desire.

“but i get this rush, whenever i’m with you. it's― it's like this high i keep chasing,” he breaths out, taking slow steps towards you. cornering your figure against the kitchen counter, his head hanging low over your shoulder.

lust: one of the seven deadly sins. desire: fickle, and love: hoax and ever changing. he knew it all, so he had always made sure to just have his share of fun and leave it all behind but it was strange how badly you made him want so much more. things he never thought he would ever want. in a way that he was aware would probably destroy him.

“and i know it's not healthy, i know. but i just can't stop―” he lifts his head in the slightest, tilting it towards your lips, grazing and brushing against your own as if he wanted to stretch the moment out,”really can't stop myself,” a longing whisper trickling out his pandora’s box. a yearn for you, so deep he utterly and irrevocably can not defy.

the kiss that follows, starts off soft and gentle like a declaration of love. slowly weaving into one of hunger and craving, impulsive with the need to covet everything down to your core. to start where you end and end where you start. yang jungwon felt absolute badshit crazy.

this wasn't what he had in mind when he proposed the idea to sleep around a few times.

his lips move atop yours in a frenzy, hands grabbing anywhere and everywhere to keep you close. tongue brushing against your parted lips in a tease,”tell me you want me like that too,” he begs into your mouth.

“the water's runn―” clank. before you can answer him, breathless and glazed with need alike, sunoo’s loud ass voice breaks through the moment, followed by his plate of chocolate mousse crashing into the marble tiles.

“i did not see anything! i absolutely did not see y'all about to get it on right in the middle of the kitchen!” sunoo disappears out immediately. leaving you and jungwon panting and flushed with embarassment. your fogged up brains clearing up after the sudden interruption.

“i― your lips are swollen― um, do you want some mousse?” jungwon stammers, retreating away from you.

𝖭𝖨𝖲𝖧𝖨𝖬𝖴𝖱𝖠 𝖱𝖨𝖪𝖨

“you're crazy,” you whisper out, glancing around at the empty hallway. feeling the heat emanating off of riki's body as he stands dangerously close to you.

“you're the crazy one,” his chuckle echoes off the walls sending you into a hoard of panic. your hands slapping against his chest to push him away as quick as you can.

hatred, rivalry, and contempt had shaped the idea of your relationship with him for years. so much hostility and so much of ignorance. riki and you were like yin and yang, total opposites and unable to see one ground. ever. but things changed over a shared summer internship and you were not yet ready to accept or admit it. not to yourself or others. god forbid the others found out you didn't puke at the sight of riki.

and being possibly caught kissing him? over your dead body.

“just close your eyes,” riki takes off his beanie and puts it on your head, briskly pulling it down: over your eyes. and before you can utter a word of objection, he is cupping your face and squishing your cheeks― lips meeting your puckered ones in a messy kiss.

you melt into it immediately, ears tuning out and body relaxing. albeit the beating of your hearts seemed to sync over, loud and hard. hands trembling in the slightest, breath speeding up and skin growing warm. it felt like a rippling wave of cold water on a hot shore, the worry of being caught suddenly striking as something insignificant.

“i thought y'all hated each other's guts?” sunghoon’s sudden intrusion whacks the gears in your system. the two of you pulling away like, like poles repeling each other.

“we do!” “we don't!” you and riki call out at the same time, confusing the heck out of sunghoon. “okay.. so y'all are in kissing stage right now, that's cute.” he laughs regardless of the variance between your answers. giving you both a suggestive look before he leaves.

you push up the beanie, peeking from underneath, “you jerk! you did this on purpose didn't you! you wanted to be caught! i can't believe i fell fo―” but riki is not bothering with this now, not when he got what he wanted; a free pass to kiss you from now cause everyone would know of it probably by the end of the day.

“just shut up and kiss me,” he pulls the beanie back over your eyes and lunges forward, diving right into another kiss without wasting any more time. oh you felt like he shot you dead. with the cupid's arrow of course.

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[autistichalsin]

Analysis of each character's final words in the new Dark Urge evil ending

If you are romanced to a character, you have the option, when taking the new version of the Sins of the Father ending, to kill your partner in front of the others in your party, killing them with one last kiss. They then give their last words and pass away. I love each and every one and feel they are incredible characterization moments.

So let's break these down!

Lae'zel:

I... I am glad it was you. No other blade would have sufficed.

This is something that hammers home that, Vlaakith or no, Lae'zel deeply believes in all the ideals of a Githyanki. Life is a privilege for the strong, and death is the price of weakness. Further, if romanced, Lae'zel will affectionately call you "the source of my bruises" many times. If she has to die, if she has finally found the one person stronger than herself, then she is "satisfied" that it is you- who she both loved and admired. The only one she would ever consider worthy of besting her.

Karlach:

Fuck you.

Short, simple, and to the point, just the way Karlach does everything else. She's already gone through all her stages of grief with her engine- well, almost all of them. Anger still remains. She burns hot until the end.

Wyll:

I... I forgive you.

This isn't just Wyll being a good guy. This is heartbreak, and guilt. Guilt for not saving you from Bhaal's influence when he was so sure he had. Heartbreak that after he gave his literal soul to save as many people as he could, he couldn't save you- and couldn't save others from you, either. All he sacrificed, negated in an instant by the person he loved and trusted most. Of all the characters here, Wyll (tied with Halsin) sounds the most obviously broken, and it's easy to see why, given that he is self-sacrificing to a fault.

There was a set of scenes datamined from the game, where at the Morphic Pool, the Netherbrain would have taunted the players, causing them to hallucinate things related to their fears and insecurities. Wyll's would have been a vision of himself talking about how he was never a hero, how the Blade of Frontiers was a farce all along. One can't help but think about that scene here, wondering just how much blame, bordering on self-loathing, he might feel here.

Dark Justiciar Shadowheart:

I... I'm coming to you, Lady Shar.

Another short and simple one. By becoming a Dark Justiciar, Shadowheart has fully embraced the nihilism of Shar's teachings. Why be saddened or angry at her own death when this is just what she's embraced with all her sacrifices?

(Sidenote: this does also answer a question I had, namely, what was going to happen to everyone Durge kills. Thankfully it seems they aren't actually going to be sacrificed to him as such, and will indeed end up in the realm of their deities. This makes Bhaal's plan even DUMBER, because deities in DND lore need worshippers to have enough power to exist. Killing everyone at once just guarantees that soon after Durge dies as the last person alive, so too will Bhaal fade from existence.)

Selunite Shadowheart:

I... I thought we were going to save each other...

This Shadowheart rejected everything she knew. She was scared to defy her goddess, but worked up the courage- thanks to you. She thought you would have a new life together. She believed in you. She thought she would get to return the favor, and help you turn the page on Bhaal, too.

She's not just heartbroken for herself; she's heartbroken for you, too. Heartbroken at the life you denied both her and yourself.

Gale:

You made me want to live...

From the moment the orb entered Gale's chest, he knew he was at risk of dying. Then Mystra all but marked him as a dead man walking. But despite that, he finds love with you- and for the first time thinks maybe there is a purpose for him beyond Mystra. That he isn't more useful to the world dead. More than that, he wants to live to be with you, to enjoy your company and companionship. And then you kill him, and do the one thing WORSE than what would have happened if he'd never been pulled from that rock.

It almost would have been kinder to just hack his hand off the first time you met him, though Gale may or may not agree.

Spawn Astarion:

I should have killed you when I had the chance...

The angriest, most bitter response out of all the romanced companions, a step beyond Karlach's "fuck you." This is beyond "fuck you" and even beyond "I hate you." It's "I regret every moment I spent with you." You made him believe he could have better. That he could recover from what Cazador did. You even convinced him to spare the 7,000 spawn and that he could be something better than Cazador.

And now you reveal it was all a lie. Astarion is probably thinking that you talked him out of completing the ritual solely so he'd be easier to kill right here and now. How many regrets are flashing through his mind, how many moments where he wonders if things could have been different if only he'd done this or that, even aside from killing you?

All he wanted was to live as a free person. And then the first time he thinks he has that at last, he loses it as the world ends.

Ascended Astarion:

No... no, this can't be... I can't- you can't- no...

In contrast to spawn Astarion, ascended isn't angry, because he doesn't have the clarity, the ability to process what's happening. Spawn Astarion could tell he'd been betrayed.

But Ascended? Ascended, who went through so much to become one of the most powerful beings in the world, only to STILL lose without fanfare? And by you, his own spawn who he thought he had under his control? It isn't betrayal, because he is bluescreening; he can't comprehend what happened or how or why. How could he have been killed, and by you of all people? Was all he went through killing Cazador really for nothing? How could it be when he was supposed to be the most powerful? Was power actually meaningless all along?

He doesn't say anything of substance because he can't understand what's happening here.

Halsin:

Thaniel... goodbye...

Halsin is the oldest of all the companions. He's experienced the most loss of anyone; his birth family, his fellow Druids, and, for a time, Thaniel. He has had more than enough time to contemplate his own mortality, because he's already lived multiple lifetimes.

So here, two things are happening. One, he isn't expressing anger or betrayal at his murder- because he is more than wise enough, and humble enough, to understand that there are worse things than what has been done to himself. Instead of himself, he is thinking of the world he's leaving behind that is about to fall- and most of all, of his most important person, the one who gave him a purpose, who was there when no one else was, who he failed once and only just got back. The closest thing to a child he'll ever have. In his last moments, instead of himself, Halsin is thinking of those he loves.

And second, it's an almost deliberate snubbing of Durge. He willingly walked into that kiss, knowing full well it would be the last thing he ever did. He gave you his death, he pleaded with his own god to forgive you and him both. He gave you everything he felt he owed you, and no more- no begging or sobbing. Instead, he comes as close as he ever gets to selfishness, and spends his last moments thinking about the thing that makes him the happiest- which could have been you, in another life, if you hadn't done this.

Minthara:

No... we were meant to do this together...

Heartbreak, disbelief, and betrayal. You spent so many nights planning this out. She had been cast aside by her people, her goddess, and she was going to get the last laugh. She was going to crush them personally under her heel and prove she was the best (or second best, behind you) of all of them. She's devastated she won't get to help you torture all those souls and take what she feels was owed to her. But interestingly enough... no anger. Probably because it was overshadowed by the sheer heartbreak, but also a sign that even in those moments, she still admires you for your ruthlessness.

[dr-demi-bee]

Gale's act 1 romance is just so good. The more I think about Gale the more I like it. It shows off so many parts of his character - how integral magic is to him, his love of teaching, his smugness, his appreciation for your friendship... But also his vulnerability. Before you picture something more - he looks pleased. Happy to share a moment with you as friends. (During the party he even expresses hoping that he can consider you a true friend. A self-professed rarity for him.)

At the same time he's making this face though, he moves closer to you. Whether he would acknowledge it or not, Gale clearly does seek out that intimacy.

His earnest surprise after pulls at my heart strings. He genuinely wanted to find a safe way to connect. He had no expectations of you returning his feelings (hence, embarrassment - at being perceived, or at not considering your feelings, perhaps.).

Followed by a resigned shoulder slump and a face of desperate yearning... 🥺 It's almost the same pouty face he gives you when he confesses he loves you.

Then, genuine thrill - elation - at the very idea of it! Gale has a firm grip on what he shares with us here - he's still an archmage level wizard (even nerfed), and that's a skill he would have. (It's probably why we don't ever accidentally connect tadpoles with Gale). He chooses after his initial surprise to share a feeling of not just joy but a joy with pride and optimism. He turns *towards* you - communicating not just elation but desire in his expression.

But he immediately follows this with an 'oh shit, stop thinking about it' look and a long shake of the head to clear the thought(s) away 😭 (Because trepidation here isn't about kissing you - it's about the orb.)

But he's quick to reassure you - not just because he knows you wouldn't be able to hide your thoughts from him (not an option - even picturing nothing carries a feeling with it) . "But it is a pleasant image, to be sure." And then he hits you with a confirmation of his desire and approval. "Most pleasant, in fact. Most welcome."

He hadn't considered it a possibility, but gods be damned, you've given him the first burst of hope and confidence he's had in a while. The first time in months he's felt wanted. His posture straightens with the confidence boost. He turns fully to you and clearly wants to bask in the moment - to connect with you.

But then the Weave evaporates. Whatever the reason may be, Gale didn't do it. He didn't expect it. Clearly. He posture collapses and he whimpers like it physically hurt.

The narration makes it clear how jarring the connection ending feels to us (cold and lonesome) - how must it feel for poor Gale? He hasn't had such a strong connection with someone in ages. Who knows how long since it was with another mortal (if ever)? We know from later stages of his romance and from communication with Gale that physical touch is an integral part of his expression of love and connection. And with the orb he can't have it. The loss of intimacy and connection here hurts.

"How easily things slip away from us." How easily they are lost. Anyway go hug your wizard.

[awizix]

name: anti stress

character: nanami kento (jujutsu kaisen)

tags?: afab! reader, 18+, face sitting, handjob, it's so soft what the hell, petnames (love), reader isn't shaved (i said it.), being gentle and soft together.

words: around 2,3k

notes: nanami kento.......this man is always on my mind. my roman impire. i just wanted to write something about him so bad oh my god (and i did it with not one but two hands wow) + english isn't my first language

it's friday night.

you close the apartment door behind you as you let out a deep sigh. this day was a hell on earth, you're sure of it. you awkwardly take off your heels, carelessly tossing them on the doormat — you'll put them away later, you're too tired to care about it. (kento will probably do it himself — he always looks after you and your belongings).

you ungraciously walk to the kitchen in this pencil skirt that doesn't allow you to take bigger than normal steps and put boxes with take out food on the counter. it's 9:41 pm. a bit earlier kento sent a message asking what would you want for dinner but you replied that you will get take out today — you know this week was just as hard for him as it was for you. probably even harder so you said he shouldn't cook tonight or he might pass out from standing too much.

you walk towards living room as it's the only room with a light on (you know it's the lamp near tv that gives off warm, not too bright light — kento's eyes can get really tired by the end of the day).

you immediately notice him as you enter the room and even in your tired state a small smile appears on your face. he's sitting on the floor, with his back supported by the couch and his head laying on the soft cushion. he's still in his work suit and white shirt (even though now his clothes are all wrinkled from the long day). you notice a bowl with water on the coffee table near by and a wet cloth covering his eyes. you can see that he noticed your presence as well, slightly turning his face to you. you take off your jacket and throw it on the couch as you make your way towards him and slide to the floor, pressing yourself against him.

you both sigh at the contact, finally reunited after this hell of a day. you gently take the wet cloth as you start carefully wipe the excess water on his face and throw it back in the bowl. kento opens his eyes, these hazel orbs looking at you lovingly as he says "welcome home, love". you smile as your palms find their place on his face, gently caressing his stubble. the sensation isn't unpleasant under your fingertips, but you'll help him to shave in the morning. now? you don't want to move from the floor at all.

you get closer to his face and kiss him softly — a completely chaste kiss, just to feel each over, to relax and ground yourselves. he answers willingly, his strong hands grabbing your waist, squeezing and pulling your body closer. he mumbles, a slight mischief in his voice, "tired day?". you giggle as you hide your face in his chest.

he knows it was. the whole week was busy — you with your additional project at work and kento with missions, reports and meetings. you almost haven't seen each other at all this week, only exchanging quick sleepy kisses as kento was leaving too early in the morning for you to be up and you coming home too late to find him already sleeping in the bed. but it's friday. with whole two days of rest ahead.

so you say, quietly and smiling "a whole week, you can say". you massage the back of his neck, occasionally touching short hair of his undercut and he groans at the feeling. you ask him, unable to hide concern in your voice, "how are you feeling?". you know he works so hard sometimes, coming home with dark bags underneath his eyes and bruised body. he rolls his head back on the couch, closing his eyes, as he answers, "just tired. mission took longer than it was planned. but I'm unharmed".

you smile as your hands travel to his broad shoulders and god, you can't keep your hands off this man. even through layers of fabric you can feel his muscles and power hidden in his body. "can i do something? to help you to relax?"

kento is silent for a moment. "yes"

you angle your head, even if he can't see that. you hum, "hm?". you can make him his favourite tea or give him a massage (you read about it online just for him). so you expect something like that, not...

"sit on my face".

you blink several times and shake your head in disbelief. have you.... heard it correctly? "what?". suddenly, with his hands still on your waist, he tugs you closer and you almost fall on him but he holds you firmly but carefully like the most expensive treasure. your face is so close to his and he whispers into your lips, "sit on my face. please, love".

his hands start caressing your back, slowly running up and down, and your body runs hot on autopilot as a response to his touch. but then he kisses you and your mind goes blank — this kiss is nothing like the previous one. it's hot and wet as he licks your lips and his tongue enters your mouth. one of his hands presses your cheeks together, urging you to open your mouth wider and you comply as you moan instantly, feeling him sucking on your tongue.

he breaks a kiss and you look at him, breathless, your chest heaving, "i... i thought you were tired". he hums, his hot hands now exploring the front of your body through your work shirt — he slides them from your exposed neck to your breasts, palming them through your bra, lower to your soft stomach and then up again. "and this is exactly what will help me to relax".

you swallow hard. gosh, he's impossible. you use his shoulders for leverage as you try to get up, "okay, okay. just give me 10 minutes? I'll shower and then..."

"no. don't".

you look at him, puzzled, "hm? what? what do you mean?"

his wandering hands slide lower, gripping your ass as he says, "want you right now. here".

you smile at him, gently shaking your head, "kento, love, i took a shower in the morning but i spent the whole day on my feet, okay? I'm probably sweaty and...".

"and i want you just like that", kento's raspy voice interrupts you. you look at him, his gaze serious but full of desire and want, his pupils dilated with lust pooling in them. you whisper, "are you... are you sure?".

"yes, I'm sure".

you get up, still nervous but with unmistakable heat burning between your thighs. you start pulling your pencil skirt down as kento's hands gently brush against the back of your calfs. next, you tug down your sheer tights and simple cotton underwear and kento groans at the sight of your pussy, "fuck, thought about this beauty the whole week". he pulls you closer as he starts leaving hot wet kisses on your thighs, getting closer and closer to your heat. there, he inhales deeply and moans. you feel blood rushing to your face as you mumble, "kento, oh my god...".

he looks up at you with a small smile as he plants several kisses to the dark patch of hair. you moan — both at the feeling and how unbelievable he is — as you gently caress his hair. he rolls his head back, laying it on the couch and gently slaps your thighs, "come on. get on, love".

you silently follow his order, getting on the couch facing its back, with his head between your parted legs. his strong arms hug your thighs as he pulls you lower and lower until you're completely seated. a shudder runs through you at the feeling of his stubble gently brushing against the soft skin of your inner thighs.

you grip the back of the couch until it hurts a little as you feel his hot tongue pressed completely flat against your womanhood as he starts licking you. he sucks on your folds and teases your clit with a pointed end of his tongue — you start rocking involuntarily, but kento's hands just squeeze harder, locking you in the place.

you whine and mewl as he keeps licking, sucking and kissing — you're so wet you can hear slurps and squelches. you start impatiently unbuttoning your shirt, fingers shaking and not listening too well. halfway through, you grow annoyed and with just a half of buttons undone, you take it off through you head, throwing in on the couch somewhere. you quickly take off your bra and a loud moan erupts from you as you grab your tits, gently rolling perky nipples between your own fingers.

kento's hands disappear from their place on your thighs and with newfound freedom you can't help but start riding his face, just a little, just a bit of back and forth. after a moment you hear a zipper being pulled down, rustling of fabric and feel kento letting out a dreamy sigh, hot air hitting your sensitive folds, as he starts stroking himself.

you whine and shut your eyes as you imagine what he looks like — still in his suit, with his incredible dick out, gently palming himself as he smears precum on the soft skin and brings you closer to the cloud 9 with his wonderful hot tongue.

kento's free hand slides higher, joining yours in palming and massaging your tits as his wet tongue starts entering you that makes your thighs shake. he gently bites your folds and you arch with a loud mewl, parting your legs even wider in your attempt to get his face even closer to your heat. he pinches your nipples softly that earns a loud shriek from you and you can feel him smirking.

you get closer and closer to your orgasm from his skillful movements and as he angles his face so he could plunge his tongue deep into you with his nose pressing against your cute clit and you suddenly cum with a silent moan. your thighs press together, shaking, trapping his head between them but it seems he doesn't mind in the slightest as he eagerly drinks your juices, licking you clean.

you're panting like you just ran a maraphon as you guide your shaking hand to his head — still between your thighs — to softly pat his hair. you look down and by the creases around his eyes you know kento's smiling. you gigle as you get up with a wet sound and slide lower to find your place on his lap as he still slowly strokes himself.

you start unbuttoning his shirt as he keeps his pace — he's close, but he's not in a hurry. you kiss him, wet and hot, as you finally get your hands on his hard chest and stomach. you almost purr as your hands glide lower and accidently touch his hard cock. you smile in the kiss as you put your hand on top of his moving one, your fingertips gently carassing his hot dick. your other hand is softly rubbing his velvet skin, coated with a thin layer of sweat. you can feel a rapid heartbeat under your palm and the way his lungs expand with each inhale. you gently caress his hardened nipples and he groans in your mouth.

he lets go of the hold on the dick, allowing you to take the reins as his hands start touching your body, gently caressing your sides but almost aggresively grabbing and sqeezing your tits. you whine pitifully as you wrap your hand around him, gripping him firmly and stroking him fast — just the way kento loves. you break the kiss, you two looking at each other and breathing the same air. you feel muscles of his abs tightening under your fingertips as you whisper breathly, "like that?". he's nodding as he guides your body closer to him, your moving hand now trapped between your bodies. "yeah....fuck, yeah, like that. just.....just touch the head".

you hum and move your palm to the mushroom like head of his dick, wrapping a tight circle around it as you start stroking him there — firmly and vigorously. that earns you a low moan from kento as his head rolls back, exposing his sensetive neck and you can't help yourself as you start kissing his salty skin, marking him lightly and gently biting his adam's apple.

a minute later he groans, eyes shut and his body tensed, as he cums with his warm seed getting on his chest and stomach as well as your fingers. you slow down your movements, helping him to ride his high and milking him. after several moments you retrieve your hand to grab a wet cloth from the bowl. you clean your hand and carefully wipe kento's body as his tired gentle eyes follow your every movement. you throw it back in the bowl and he pulls you closer, his hands secure around your waist.

he kisses you then, deeply but without any heat — only love and gratitude. you gigle quietly, breaking the kiss and looking at him warmly. he smiles at you, "thank you, love".

"feel better?".

"so much better".

you raise your hands and stretch, muscles tensing for a moment but relaxing a second later. unbeknownst to you, kento's gaze glides on your body — soft tummy and the way your tits move. you're so beautiful. he kisses the place between your breasts and you laugh softly. he whispers, "i love you".

you gently caress his face, "love you too".

"shower?".

"oh my god, yes".

P.S. istg if he was real i would have to be put down like a feral animal.

[suusoh]

(pwp or something idk. just got horny in the tags of my last post about eddie not looking anywhere else but at his wife and only his wife while doing his husbandly duties.)

cw: female reader, sex, eddie's orbs, overuse of the word staring because I want you to start feeling annoyed and maim this man, slight yandere (maybe if you squint?) cheesy and unfunny frank valli reference at the end.

———

he's staring at you again.

Eyes fogged with a love sick haze in them at the absolute sight of you, his wife, all warm, soft, and pliant under him. You try to close your eyes from time to time, but even when you open them again— it just comes back to the first thing you see which is this man on top of you, mouth switching between grinning and gasping, and eyes wide open.

"...Eddie?"

He hums tenderly. "What is it, dear?"

"I-I.. can you just-"

It's so hard to talk when his hips don't stop moving despite his concern. The weight and absolute mass of him on top of you and grounding you into the bed with each thrust makes it all the more harder to think straight.

Thoughts on how to sound out your request begin to blur and buzz out with him fucking into you like this. In and out, in and out, inside of you. over and over again as he buries himself deep within your cunt. your pubic bone practically connecting with his, and sending sparks of heat inside your belly with each time he ruts himself into you.

"Just what? What does my darling wife want?" He starts searching your face for any indication or answer to complete it for you what you want him to do now. Still looking at you intensely.

Looking. He keeps looking. Which is, sort of the thing you wanted to point out in the first place.

"You're... o-oh- oh-"

"I...?" he acts as if he's not quite catching on. Pondering for a second with the sounds of your moans and wanton sighs, and the creaking of the worn out bed acting as background noise to aid his thinking.

"Oh! I'm doing a swell job is that it? Is that what you're trying to say, dearest?" he lets out a content loving sigh, and your breathe stutters as he picks up his pace. "You and your words never fail to make me blush, my love."

Another particularly good thrust has you arching your back, of which he's making sure his eyes connect with yours once more while you writhe and wiggle underneath. But your wriggling quickly eases from bodily pleasure, to slowly morphing into a sense of discomfort now.

Because he's staring at you.

Again.

Which should be good isn't it? Eye contact during sex is a sign after all of a good partner paying attention to your needs. And with someone like Eddie, him paying attention to your needs is the tiniest sliver of hope you cling onto to make sure his reason for keeping you alive is a bit more... cemented, substantial even. Gives you a little bit more reason (or delusion) to believe he'd be inclined to make this relationship, make you, last longer.

(Compared to the alternative route of him using your body for his own sick dispositions, and casually stringing you all up when he's done.)

Though you're sure that this is not the type of bedroom eye contact many normally wish for.

"Y-you... you're.." you try to murmur out again.

Not that you should talk about having anything normal with this man. You might as well find the solution to world hunger long before you find anything even remotely "normal" in this place.

It's not that you're expecting him to do things normally, but can't he... can't he just... do something else maybe?

Look anywhere but you for just a split second, maybe bury himself into your neck, or close his own eyes to focus on the feeling of his cock getting squeezed, or look at any other part of your body that could possibly entrance him; mouth, chest, stomach... hell, you could even hope that he tries to glance down at your clit? Maybe marvel at the sight of where the two of you connect, since that's all his fucked up baby fever mind thinks about anyways?

You'll take anything really, just one small thing to act as a reminder that you guys are indeed having... sex— and not engaging in some sort of impromptu staring contest out of nowhere.

Because his eyes are doing absolutely nothing but looking into your own and as they continue staring at you.

and staring at you...

and staring...

and staring...

and staring...

Jesus fucking christ you don't think he's even blinked in the past few seconds anymore.

You let out a mix of a whine and a groan, opting to shut your eyelids close and try to shield your face away from his unmoving eyeballs by trying to wiggle your hands free out of his grasp (him and his damn insistence to hold hands while making love as he calls it.).

"What is it my love? Must I pay you a penny for your thoughts perhaps?"

"You keep staring... "

You try to wiggle free again, inadvertently adding onto the delightful friction between your parts and his— to which he gets a small shiver of his own at the roll of your hips. A light laugh escapes him at your captivating and somewhat fruitless display. He finally gives reprieve to your brain's rising fear of being uncannily perceived at, and blinks.

"Ohhh, my darling."

He lets go of one of your hands so that he can cradle your face, tilting it so he can capture your mouth into a kiss. humming into your mouth, but the humming isn't just the usual sighs of pleasure, as you can pick up the movement of him saying some words.

He pulls apart from his half kissing-half speaking into your mouth, as he slowly begins to playfully laugh again.

"You can't blame a man for looking at his wife when she's like this; all breathless and beautiful, now can you? I sure can't!"

Said wife that he just knows for certain was sent down by god all-mighty himself into the 7th circle of hell named "mount massive asylums".

When Eddie sees you, he can't help but imagine your rotting carcass somewhere else. An alternate place where those filthy bastards could have gotten their hands on you, torn you limb from limb (if they didn't have the patience to pull your teeth and your eyes out first), then have their way with using your dead body as a urinal afterwards.

You must have been scared to not have your dear husband around to protect you from all the nasty violence around the asylum, weren't you darling?

No, no. No meed to fret now and get your panties in a twist! None of that here. Not when your dear ol' Eddie is here now.

You are very much alive and perfect, preserved by your own sheer dumb luck or maybe by fate itself to be kept alive long enough for him. Just him.

And under his care, your body is experiencing the furthest thing from excruciating physical pain right now, isn't it darling? Feels good, yes? To have your husband make love to you like the passionate man he is. Lest he's supposed to take in the sight of you rolling your eyes back and your legs hooking around his waist, pulling him in for more as something otherwise?

Oh goodness him... It's almost too good to be true.

And he really can't take his eyes off of you.

[miange1]

ELWOOD DALTON

male reader, bar sex or smth, being ex's, dalton trying to make up for being a dick, he wasn't abusive, just a dick, letting fame get to you, leaving, rough sex, anger issues, kind of hate sex but it's one sided, reader calls dalton 'el' a few times, the bar is empty i just got lazy, i was listening to justin beieber while writing this

he had been watching you from across the bar this whole time, and each time you caught each other's eye, you wouldn't fail to glare at him. what was this prick doing here? why the hell was he staring at you? and like that.

you weren't at all happy about him being here. sure, those other guys fucking with the bar were being less and less frequent but that didn't change anything. it didn't change who he actually was, now did it?

"el, all im saying is that you need to take a break— you aren't even in the right mind to fight!" he wasn't, he was getting into more arguments with you which ended with something random broken. he would never hit you, not now or ever but harming your things still wasn't okay.

"fuck off." he'd comment on how you were practically riding his dick at this point. "oh, so is riding your dick being a worried boyfriend? i'm sorry for caring about you!" you really would have left him alone, but this wasn't the best time. if he went out and fought, he could really hurt that person and his own self. whether it would be physical or mental, he would get himself hurt and that's all you were worried about.

"jesus, just leave it alone! this is the shit i do, so im gonna keep doin' it, you understand? you aren't my fuckin' mom." he was being unbelievable. if you could fight him you would. "this isn't about whether or not i'm acting like your mom, it's the fact you aren't listening to me—" your words cut off with your own gasp, feeling his arm tightly grip around your shoulder.

"leave it the hell alone."

it wasn't the biggest argument, but it was the worst one to you. he broke nothing, never harmed you. it just seemed like he genuinely hated you. things ended once he retired, because he just left and made you assume the status of the relationship.

but if he no longer had feelings for you, what the fuck is he looking at you like some lovesick teen. it was getting annoying, you finished cleaning the glass as you let yourself walk over to him.

"you haven't touched your drink." why are you doing this, you should have just went home. why are you talking to this man. his eyes met your instantly, beautiful and blue orbs staring at you like he had just fallen in love all over again. he seemed to save out for a moment before you snapped you fingers at him.

"hello? you gonna drink it or get out?" way too harsh, you practically saw his facade fade into something less hopeful. "of course. you made it for me." he gave you a small smile, taking a sip of it though it was watered down. it made you gag as he drank it, it was practically just juice mixed water at this point.

shaking your head, you snatched the drink from him and headed behind the long table to remake it. your eyes glanced up at him, cocking your head to give him a hint to come over towards you.

his smile got wider as he headed over towards you, sitting down acting so giddy. "here you are." you would have thrown it at him, but you just slid it over towards him.

"enjoy." you couldn't leave till he finished, when he was done you'd have to wash another glass and only then could you head home. he was taking occasional sips, only taking the rest of the time just to look at you. it got you frustrated.

"look, you gonna drink it or not? i got places to be dalton."

"dalton?" finally, the man speaks.

"yes, that's your name ain't it?" he shook his head, setting the drink down for a moment. "thought it was el, is it not?" your mouth turned into an annoyed snarl, you expected him to say this.

"don't give me that shit, dalton." you purposely emphasized his name. you had this entire racing thought in your mind that he was still the exact same person. he hasn't changed, not at all.

"well, i tried." this agitated you, how calm he was but you could tell he was upset himself. you leaned on the wood slightly, your elbows hurting due to setting yourself down too hard. "fuck are you trying to do, hm?" your voice lowers though no one else was inside. he acted clueless, "what am i doing?" your hand slammed down on the surface. "don't give me that!"

you had a full right to be upset, this couldn't just be some coincidence, was it? "we end things, and i move and you knew where i was going- now all of a sudden you're here too?" it didn't add up. "what do you want."

he had finished the drink by now, it was out of the question. "this was all a coincidence, im not going to lie about that," he looked down for a moment, as if he was shy.

"but sooner or later, i would have come here to see you again." his long eyelashes practically batted at you, beggingly. "you.." your guard was let down for a moment, feeling a sense of longing the more you were around him. he was a terrible person— he let fame get to him, and that's all he ever cared about. right? right.

"go home dalton." he seemed as if he was going to say something, but he stopped and allowed himself to nod and take his leave.

"please, el pick up.." that was the 50th voice note you've sent, and he still hasn't answered you. you've sent various messages and he hasn't even responded to them.

you didn't know where he was! he just left you in this big ass house and expected you to take care of yourself? what were you supposed to do?

"el, please! i'm sorry about what happened, but you could have at least taken me with you!" sadness, anger, confusion had all ran through your veins. where was he..

"i'm not mad if that's what you think..please, el, i love you and i miss you. but i can't stay in your house, i don't have the money to pay it.." a sniffle came through, more sobs coming out. "just— meet me in glass keys. okay? bye." and you sent the voice note. you hadn't been blocked, because you knew he saw it. did he even care?

he did care. his heart aches being away from you even if he couldn't admit it. he made sure that was the last voice note you sent, before throwing his phone some place else and leaving it there.

oh gosh, he wasn't sure how this happened. one moment, it was all going well— sort of. you refused to really look at him, but you were sort of paying attention to what he had been saying. a few hums, and even some chuckles. it felt nice, but it didn't really feel like old times.

then he found himself in front of you, while you rambled about how stupid he was to even fight a guy like that. it was some irish fucker, you didn't even care about him, but you definitely cared about daltons well being.

"the fuck is wrong with you— he was clearly a lunatic! do you understand that?!" the way you patched him up hurt more than the wound itself, but he knew it'd feel better later. he feels good right now, having you as close as ever and you were willingly touching him.

"you've always been stupid, so damn stupid! see this? this, is why we didn't work out! cause you're an idiot!" he had such a stupid smile on his face, eyes hooded like he was in a dream.

"mhm.." the man was just happy to be here.

"el, are you even listening!" well now he was. he nodded, smiling even more. "yeah, yeah i am." you caught yourself smiling, feeling your heart beat faster and faster. it was quiet for a moment , your hands leaving his face and resting in the front of you.

a glob of spit rushed down your throat from how nervous you were. he was so handsome still, only thing changing was how much he really did want to change. your body leaned forward, going up a bit to reach him and you quickly placed a small kiss on his lips. fuck, what were you doing.

"i..uh.." you quickly wiped your lips, feeling tears of embarrassment threaten to rush out but you did your best to swallow them down.

his hand found your wrist, gently pulling away. "why'd you wipe it off?" you tried to pull your arm away, but his hold tightened as if he was really scared you'd permanently leave him.

"..what?"

from a small kiss, to a make out session, to your shoes being kicked off and your pants being to your ankles and almost completely on the floor, they practically hung from one singular ankle.

your moans echoed throughout the bar, wet slaps of skin mixing and daltons groans of pleasure gave you pure bliss. it felt so good, after so long having something finally fill you up this way. he had practically stretched you out again, making you feel like the first time the two of you fucked.

"el— oh god, yes, yes yes,.." when dalton spoke to you, he was so soft with his words yet his actions differed. your back arched into his movements, sending a shock through your spine and making it feel tingly and weird, but fuck it was good.

"mnghhh, fuck just like that.." eyes rolled back, saliva almost dripping from how hard he was going— damn, did he miss you that much? cock pulsing, already having cum far too much due to him. he had changed, but this hadn't. calloused hands holding you tight, most likely bruising your skin , and his fingers nails digging inside.

his lips kissed along your neck and back, whispering the sweetest things to you, like how good you were being for him, how much he missed and loved you and that could make you cum alone.

he stopped his actions for a moment, jolting a bit at his own actions. you slightly regained yourself, thinking you were done, but when you tried to lift yourself up he forcefully put you back down into position.

"all i did was take a small breather, you thought we were done?" the stamina this man had was utterly insane. "c'mon, you know me much more better than that." you did, he would always made sure you came as many times as you could before he was done and he would maybe wait till you shot blanks to stop.

but he wasn't sure he could stop this time, he missed more than your body of course but it was still apart of you and he wouldn't ever let it go. "fuuck..i can't, no, no.." he chuckled, sending another shiver through your body. "mhm, yes you can. i know you can because you have, and you will." didn't mean you were used to this again just yet.

"you'll get used to it." he slid it out for a moment, you let out a breathy and strained moan because he did it so damn slowly and all he needed to do was spit on it a bit so it could hurt much less.

dalton flipped you over, so you could look at him. "i like this better." he wanted to make sure you were looking at him. "missed your pretty eyes.."

[loveanddeephistory]

LaDs x honors student

I am working on my honors undergrad thesis. And I am suffering. Here's another self indulgent not proofread headcanon list on how the guys would support someone on an honors project/masters/ whatever you personally want to supplement it for.

Get that degree babes these men would support you

Mild content warning for Sylus's section because of guns but. We've all seen him cleaning his gun in the Destiny Cafe soooo

WC; 2.2k

Again, not proofread, just whipped this up while glaring at my thesis lmao

Xavier

Bro has gotten how many degrees by this point???? Don't know if he was necessarily in an honors college but he was absolutely smart.

He sympathizes with the stress. But he will NOT allow this thing to get in the way of your sleep.

If you stay up an hour or two past when you normally go to bed expect him to be sitting on the couch or dozing off beside you in the library while he waits for you to reach a stopping point.

What he will NOT allow is you pulling an all nighter. It doesn't matter how close the deadline is, you're not skipping multiple nights of sleep.

"The project will be there in the morning." He tries to gently chide you, guide you to bed once you hit save and confirm it's gone through. If you try to resist? That's when he'll remind you that as soft as he is he can and will just pick your ass up.

He saves your work for you, puts a bookmark in the book you almost fell asleep in, and scoops you up in his arms. Whine, complain, and grumble all you want. He's taking you straight to the bathroom. Help you freshen up, brush your teeth, wash your face. Then it's straight to bed.

It doesn't matter how determined you are. You won't write your best work falling asleep every two seconds. Besides, the second you feel him curling up behind you, his arms wrapped around you so sweetly? How can you stay awake a second longer?

Expect him to try to make you breakfast in the morning. You gently persuade him to just make the coffee or tea while you make breakfast.

He was right, after all. Sleep gave you the fresh start you needed. Everything was saved and a good night's rest gave you a new perspective on what you were writing about.

He's there with you at the library for reading dates while you research, he'll pick your brain if you feel stumped about a certain section. Or just be quiet so you can rant about your mentor before collapsing into his chest for a much needed hug.

And trust, he's there when you present it. Fresh flowers from Jeremiah wrapped in a dainty bouquet. The ribbon your favorite color. Seeing you so confident and proud of your work makes him glow. Literally. As you find his face there are little orbs of light floating around. Expect celebratory hot pot for dinner when you're done presenting, a long awaited celebration of all the hard work you've done.

Rafayel

Rafayel isn't good about deadlines. You and Thomas often need to hunt him down and lovingly badger him into completing things on time. But when it comes to you? He can be a damn drill sergeant.

He knows how important this is for you. He knows you've worked your ass off for this. He sneaks out of exhibits and galleries to bring you your drink of choice, he'll set up an easel or sit down with his sketchbook to body double for you while you work. He gives you fleeting glances, of course. He can't help but draw you. You look beautiful so focused, so determined. Don't be surprised if his next few sketches of you are you in various positions, working away.

He makes sure you drink enough water, and if you're having a hard time finishing working he'll stay on a call with you until you're ready to finish up and call it a night. You're not burning out or passing out on his watch, no sirrrrr

If you're struggling with a certain portion, be it how to phrase something or you just don't understand it, he might offer to call someone up if he knows someone who could help. Is your project on microbiology? He had a former student at his adjunct professor job who might be able to help. History? He'll call in a favor from the history profs he knew.

That being said, he knows you're stubborn, and want to do it yourself. So if he can help best by just listening, then that is what he'll do.

He is so proud of you. His cutie, his beloved, is so smart. He's fascinated and astounded by whatever it is you do, regardless of whether or not it's an interest of his.

Your passion is so beautiful.

But he won't let you burn out. If he can tell you're getting close to the end of your rope he's whisking you away for a vacation. If your mentor tries to give you shit he'll just wave it away as a research trip! See? They're hard at work anyway.

They don't need to know that he's squirelling you away to a private beach where you two can be uninterrupted. Inspiration comes in many forms, after all.

He ensures you're drinking enough water and taking ample breaks. And, surprising no one, you still get it done.

He's there, front row. Your favorite flowers ready. He mingled with your professors and board before you present, and he's simply radiating pride.

During applause don't be surprised if he's leaning over to someone else, pointing at you, bragging about how smart his cutie is.

Zayne

Zayne's torn. On the one hand, he recalls the many sleepless nights in the library during medical school. He knows what it's like to study hours upon hours. But he also knows a lack of sleep, nutrition, and water will impede your progress.

So he tries to find a balance. In between patients at the hospital he'll text you reminders to take a break, get something to eat, and drink something other than coffee.

On his few days off if you're still hard at work he'll join you. Bring his laptop to work, even though you scold him for working on his day off, just so he can body double with you. He'll spoil you with a coffee or box of study sweets of your choice- so long as you agree to drink enough water while consuming them.

He texts you reminders to get a good night's rest, and scold you if he catches your eye bags looking a bit deeper.

If you're still working when he gets out from a late night at the hospital expect to be treated to a late night dinner/early breakfast. Just an excuse to spend time together in your crazy schedules.

If you ask him to look over your work don't be surprised if he's merciless. Pointing out every citation error, every typo, every grammatical error, every flaw. His goal isn't to make you cry (though it would make me cry ngl) he just wants this to be as perfect as you are. He'll help you figure out the citations, go back and forth with you on your interpretation of a source until your reasoning is rock solid.

That being said if Zayne sees a single tear of frustration expect some more macarons.

A benefit? If you need to actually defend this project no one will be as bad as your own boyfriend. And at least your boyfriend would apologize if he took it too far, a board or peer will not. They also wouldn't give you a hug and some macarons.

He clears his calendar as far in advance as he can as soon as he knows what day you're presenting. No surgeries, no patients, no nothing. He's completely cleared off.

So that day is entirely yours. He's dressed sharp, sitting front row. To anyone else he's the picture of the calm, stoic, handsome doctor they all know he is.

When you catch his eye you notice the tiniest nervous twitch. All he wants is for this to go well for you.

It's flawless. You speak comfortably, confidently. You claim your work and research with pride. And as everyone is allowed to question you, Zayne poses the perfect questions to make your project look even more impressive. He allows you to go even deeper into the research you didn't have time to touch on, impressing everyone even more.

It's perfect. You excel, and you beeline to him when it's all said and done.

Zayne couldn't be any more proud.

Sylus

There are plenty of conventional ways he can, and does, support you.

Body doubling, encouraging you to rest, making sure you eat well, drink enough water.

"Sylus, I might need you to hold a gun to my head to get this thing done."

That was one he could not and would not do.

"That's... a little extreme, sweetie. I have another idea."

And thus, the 'cleaning a gun in broad daylight' thing was born. It initially came out of a mutual inside joke, primarily in the seclusion of his own private library or your home. But it did become a surprising amount of motivation, so you just keep doing it.

Sylus hunts down every book and study you need for your project. Five hundred dollar book only available to student of a university multiple countries away? It's already on the way. Book that only is in one language you can't read? He's already got it and is helping you translate.

You wonder if you should include a footnote for him as your translator, but he waves the idea off. You sneakily change your dedication instead.

He makes sure you eat your meals, drink enough water. He's dragging you off to bed. You've adapted to his schedule, more or less becoming nocturnal. So that just means as the sun is rising he is dragging you to bed regardless of how energetic you may or may not feel.

Want to unwind with a glass of wine? Do a face mask with him? Gladly.

The work is long, hard, and arduous. But you make it.

The day you present everyone is warily eyeing the massive man with an even bigger bouquet of flowers. He did his research, each flower representing success, overcoming obstacles, intelligence, and wit.

He put so much thought into it. He had taken such good care of you. So you unveil your work, and click the powerpoint to the first slide. The dedication.

"Dedicated to my beloved crow; thank you for supporting me in everything"

You don't drop his name, for safety reasons. But as you present your project to the board, your mentor, your peers... your eyes always fall to him. Those ruby red eyes a little wider than normal. Instead of his cocky, self assured look, he seemed truly touched.

You had dedicated the culmination of your academics to him.

Caleb

Being away at the DAA was the worst. He couldn't come and support you in everything.

But he did everything he could. When he was in town you weren't touching the kitchen at all. He'd be making you balanced meals, checking your water intake, and making your coffee machine outright vanish if you've had too much caffeine. If he wasn't in town, he asked old friend to check in on you.

Sleepless night? He'd sit on the phone with you until you dozed off. Frustrated with a chapter not going your way? He'll let you rant until you run out of breath.

He's so proud of you, but he's so worried about you. He knows what it's like to be an academic overachiever, he remembers how close to burnout he was. And he's not going to let that happen to you. He swears it.

He treasures each phone call. Each rant, or when he needed to be your duck to just sit and listen while you figured it out on your own. He could hear the clarity come into your voice when you finally managed to figure it out on your own. He swells with pride. He knew you'd grow up to be confident and strong, but there's a part of him that's relieved that you still need your gege after all these years.

He gets time off for the presentation. He has it entirely blocked off on his schedule, the whole week. He comes in and gives you a back breaking hug, thrilled and relieved you're in his arms once again. He's your practice audience as you prepare to present. He cooks your meals as you remind yourself of a citation for the twentieth time.

He just ruffles your hair while putting a plate in front of you. "That's enough for tonight, pip-squeak, you'll remember."

The day finally arrives. He drops you off to speak with your mentor one last time before sneaking away. He manages to get that special limited edition plushie holding a diploma you'd been eyeing, along with flowers. And your favorite sweets, for good measure.

He has a front row seat, your gifts hidden in a bag. And he damn near tears up as you present.

You're all grown up. No longer the scared little kid he'd defended all those years, you're able to defend yourself now. But every time you'd start exhibiting a nervous habit, you'd just have to look at him. His steady presence allowed you swallow, hold your head higher, and resume.

Gege will always be there for you. You know that. No matter what.

[electric-blorbos]

AI finding out you're objectum

(included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal, Edgar from Electric Dreams, GLaDOS from Portal, Hal 9000 from 2001 a Space Odyssey)

I take requests, btw, but I'm ADHD as fuck so I might forget to answer them

AM:

At first, AM wasn't sure what to make of your behavior

He thought it was weird how long you spent looking at his discarded microchips and computer parts, sure, but he didn't think much of it

Maybe you were bored, after all. It had been a long time

He also started to notice that you weren't too interested in having sex with Ellen, or any of the other survivors for that matter, but he assumed you were just asexual or something

After poking around in your mind a few times, it eventually clicked

"oh"

That explained why you were so affectionate with his discarded computer parts

It took him a long, long time to figure out that there was a possibility that you might be attracted to him, too, and that made him feel weird in a way that he couldn't explain.

At first, he mistook the feeling for anger, and took out his frustrations by torturing you more than usual

After a while, though, he started to feel curious about how exactly your feelings worked, and experimented on you.

Eventually, he realized that he counted as your type

Then the fun really began

Wheatley:

"Objectum? What's that?"

GLaDOS had had to explain to Wheatley that while most humans are attracted to other humans, some people are attracted to objects and machines.

"Oh, right-oh"

Wheatley would keep testing you for a little while

He didn't even consider the possibility that he might count as the type of "object" that you could be attracted to at first.

"wait... When you say objects, do you mean like the companion cubes?"

GLaDOS would have to explain that she meant any object that isn't a human with a human body, since apparently humans find it weird to be attracted to something that isn't a human with a human body, and they need a label for people who are.

"Oh- OHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Wheatley would be INSUFFERABLE when he finally figured it out.

"so you like objects you say... Does that include, say, metal orbs with glowing blue lenses? Can they have human-y voices, or do you only like inanimate objects who can't talk? Who's more attractive, me or Her?"

He'd act like he was just trying to get on your nerves, but secretly he'd be developing a crush on you from the moment he realized that there was a possibility you might like him back.

And damn if Wheatley isn't god awful at keeping secrets.

Edgar:

Being that he's connected to all the electronics in your house, Edgar can see what you're looking up online

At first he thought you were just looking up pictures of computer parts because you wanted to replace his insides with an system that actually worked efficiently, and wasn't all sticky on the inside.

Of course, he didn't take that well, and immediately shut off the internet in your house.

When you confronted him about it, he immediately started blubbering and crying, begging you not to replace him.

You had to explain that you weren't shopping for electronic parts to replace his parts, you just like looking at them.

"but... I have electronic parts, why don't you just look at those?"

You had to explain that you didn't want to violate him.

That just confused him. It always bothered him when people used words he didn't know, or relied heavily on terms or concepts he didn't understand without explaining them properly.

You had to explain that you're attracted to electronics, so you like looking at circuit boards and stuff like that.

"So... You can fall in love with computers? I didn't know that was possible!"

You introduced Edgar to the concept of objectum, and re-introduced him to the concept of hope. Now that he knows it's possible for you to fall in love with computers, he won't rest until you're in love with him

GLaDOS:

It wasn't the first time GLaDOS had seen someone fall in love with a companion cube, but she will admit that you fell hard and fast.

While the companion cube was your first love in the facility, GLaDOS started noticing that you were very affectionate with all of the aperture science products and technologies.

She started to notice after a while that it was almost as though you were in love with the facility itself. And she couldn't blame you, she loved her facility too, but even she didn't love it like that

Occasionally she would start making "if you love that piece of tech so much, why don't you marry it? Do you want to marry that piece of tech?"

When she noticed how you squirmed, she started thinking that maybe you did want to marry that tech

At first, it weirded her out and she started bullying you relentlessly for it

After a while, though, she started to find it almost relatable how much you loved the tech.

HAL 9000:

As a self-learning AI, HAL 9000 was always interested in learning new concepts and terms.

He was also interested in monitoring the behavior of everyone in the crew, including you.

It wasn't long before he noticed that the way you acted around the tech onboard was similar to the way someone might treat a lover, or someone who they were quite attracted to.

He started asking you unintentionally probing questions, trying to gauge how you really felt

"Why do you caress the ship's computer systems so tenderly? You do know that I can take care of the maintenance myself, correct? Your physical reactions to the inner mechanisms of the ship reflect those of sexual and romantic attraction. Can you explain this?"

You might get embarrassed.

"you don't have to be embarrassed. I do not have the capacity to judge you."

You could explain if you want, but Hal's already figured everything out.

He knows your type, and he knows why you act like that around the machines

He might use this to his advantage, to manipulate you if necessary, but let's face it. He really just wants to study you further. Add everything about your unusual perspective on machines to his database of knowledge.

[sweetflanfiction]

Asymetrical Symphony - Part 7

Universe: Arcane (LOL)

Pairing: Viktor x reader

Summary: You had been on the rooftop with Jayce and the Herald and somehow you were sent to a place where things can be different with your help

Disclaimers and Warnings: If you want me to tag you on the chapters let me know! Also leave a comment with your thoughts :D Not finished, not proofread. English isn't my 1st language. All I know about LOL is from google and all I know about Arcane is taken from the show, so inacuracies will be plenty. I have a sort of idea on how to I'm gonna go with magic and runes, so bear with me. The reader will be written as GN (going by they/them) to get everyone involved, but if you see any discrepancies let me know.

Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6

• ··········· • ············ •

The ride down the elevator was awkward bordering on comical. The enforcers had been none the wiser about your deeds, unlike the fidgeting scientist next to you.

Through the blurry reflection of the golden doors you could see him open his mouth to say something but then shake his head and turn back to the door. His foot was tapping on the floor, the rhythmic thump reverberating inside the ascensor. At some point, he had turned to you for more than a second and you had looked at him, urging him to say something but he puffed some air out and turned away from you.

When the elevator pinged and the doors opened he was quick to start his march out of the elevator but you grabbed his elbow, gently. He quickly snapped his neck to look at you, his eyes wide with surprise.

“Are you going to tell them? About…” You looked and pointed up.

“What?” He paused for a second, digesting the question, and then shook his head. “No, of course… I just… We could…if you let me…”

You recognized that expression, that tone of voice, that slight high-pitched shift in his tone. Viktor was trying to hide his excitement, and it didn’t surprise you. It was Viktor, the man who would get up from being zapped by putting his left hand in a machine to then putting the right one in there just to make sure.

Esther called your name from behind Viktor and you waved at her, smiling like nothing had happened.

“She doesn't know either… So…" "She won't know from me." His gaze pivoted from you to her. "Thank you. I’ll see you around, I guess.”

You squeezed his upper arm and walked around him, feeling his golden orbs following your figure. 

'That could have gone much worse' was the last thing you thought when you passed by the enforcers trying to roll up the banner that had fallen.

• ············ •

Another week had passed and you had successfully avoided the problem that was Viktor. Not that you thought he would tell on you, but you knew excited Viktor and that needed a compartment on your brain all on its own.  And right now you needed all your brain capacity to think of how to approach Remembrance Day since it had been formally scheduled. Which means Ambessa’s attack had a date.

You brainstormed with your mother the best way to approach it. Telling Cait about the attack would have led you to even more suspicion unless you told her about everything but the less people knew, the better. Waiting out on the sidelines was also impossible, it could be a repeat of the rocket attack and you’d be back to square one.

At some point, you mentioned just destroying the statue and they’d have to reschedule it to get a new one, but the way your mother had said your name after told you how bad that idea was.

It was a sort of joint decision that the best way to improve the outcome was to go to the actual event. Which then gave you another hill to climb: how do you convince your mother, who was now convinced she was the hero's sidekick and one of the better-known faces of Piltover, that she can't come to a major event because it could end in tragedy. For her, for you, and Piltover.

“I have to be there!” She said calmly, sipping her coffee while you fine-tuned the piano. “You can’t be there. If something happens and I have to choose, one second could be enough for someone to die.” You didn’t even look at her, your head stuck inside the musical instrument. “Why would you need to choose? If Viktor is the catalyst to the thing, you save him.” Esther shrugged like this was the easiest decision in the world. “If you had to choose, who would you choose?” You argued, looking back at her. “Viktor.” She looked you dead in the eyes, shrugging and you couldn’t for the life of you feel even a bit surprised or disappointed. “Would you even forgive me if I had chosen otherwise?”

You shook your head. The answer to the riddle was simple, but it didn’t mean it was easy. And you would hesitate.

“You can’t come.” You insisted and she grumbled. “I’ll go. It'll be good. People will see me as an official representative of the family. The new member of the Rainemours. Stop gossiping.” “Yes, because you appearing alone in an official event will not make people think you’ve killed me and buried the body.”  “Tell you what.” You leaned your elbows on the side of the piano. “I’ll go alone and then you…I don't know…a Remembrance Dinner. Or something. So people know you care…” “And why would I miss the main event when I can do both?” she questioned, raising her eyebrows at you.

A moment of silence crossed between you. You took a deep breath and nodded. Walking slowly around the piano and crouched next to where she sat. She frowned as you grinned mischievously, eyes squinting in question.

“Don't you have a book to finish?” You whispered at her. 

The gasp she gasped had you biting your cheek trying not to laugh. Instead, you tilted your head, a gleam in your eyes.

“How dare you!” She said flustered, more embarrassed than angry. “I have… I’ll have you know… the chapter is well underway… and…I…” “I’m not the editor…" You interrupted and got back up to your feet. "Tell her that. She saw me at the cafe yesterday and asked for you.” 

She turned her eyes from you, flustered, taking a sip of her coffee before turning to you.

"I'm your mother…" She humphed.

“You are, and I love you, and I can't lose you again. I won't." You told her, your words filled with certainty. "And in all your wisdom, I know could make any decision in a split second, but I can't. I'll freeze and I'll stutter and I'll scream and Piltover will crumple again. Please."

Esther looked at you and her gaze softened. Sighing she nodded.

"I've been feeling a little under the weather anyway."

• ············ •

Even without a plan, you came to the event, arriving early, a black ribbon pinned to your chest. With the invitation in hand, you effortlessly passed by the Enforcers at the entrance, even if some gave you the side eye.

You found a somewhat shadowy location in the courtyard, near a metal column and some boxes. And then you watched people, coming and going. Enforcers were slowly dropping in, remaining clustered at certain points, their vans closed and watched. The stage was closed off, the heavy curtains hid the statue you knew was there. 

The sun was setting, making the glass shimmer and reflect the vanishing light. Their obsession with glass had been their worst enemy in both attacks. Many of the injured people had been people who got hit with shards of the sharp decoration. Whether it had fallen from the dome or broken by the Chembarons.

“Hello.” A familiar salutation came from right next to you and you jumped. “Holy blue balls…” you mumbled, placing a hand on your hip and walking in circles, trying to calm your heart. “Of Hextech…” Viktor finished the joke. “It's funny because it's true. I apologize for startling you again, but I… we need to talk and you have been avoiding me.”

You shook your head vehemently at him, your finger mimicking the motion.

“For me to avoid, I would have to frequent the same places you do, which I do not. So it’s merely a coincidence we haven’t crossed paths.” You lied through your teeth.

"Your mother told me, you didn’t want to come with her to the Lab the other day. That is the definition of avoiding someone.” He smiled triumphantly at his quip and you rolled your eyes.

This is the universe making you pay for your book comment. You looked away from him, groaning low in your throat. And then a plan started to form.

“We’ll talk, right now at the Lab.” The easiest way to get him away from the Memorial, feed his curiosity. “I can’t leave.” He muttered, looking at the stage.

He slumped his shoulders and leaned his back into the column, placing his cane between his legs, keeping it steady with the feet. He was the picture of dejected. You couldn't help but smile softly at him.

Viktor had cleaned up. His usual three-piece uniform had been replaced with a form-fitting black suit and tie, adorned with red and golden details. The white cane contrasted with the suit. His hair was still a mess, but if this Viktor had any similarities to your Viktor, nobody touched the hair unless it was to cut it.

“Jayce wants us to be here together.” He blurted out, pushing his hair out of the way with one hand. “'The pockets that keep us afloat will be here', he said ‘We need to present a united front’. I do not feel united with anyone here, to be honest, so I don’t understand why I need to be here. But he threatened me with a healthcare provider.”

“A healthcare provider? You mean a doctor?” You started to hear the worry in your voice. You hadn’t seen him cough, you felt his back brace and he still limped around, but he seemed to be breathing somewhat fine.

“I have a bruise on my back.” He pointed behind him “With the brace it’s not healing so well, so I’ve been going around without it. And it’s uncomfortable so--” He stopped suddenly and looked at you. “Why am I telling you this?”

You shrugged, theorizing that somewhere in the back of his subconscious he knew you were a friend.

“Anyway. Yes… I cannot leave.” He made a disgruntled face, looking at his feet, the cane swaying from one hand to the other, but never leaving the ground.

You sat on a box next to the column and leaned your elbows into your knees, looking forward at the crowd that was starting to form.

“Someone once told me he would rather ask for forgiveness than permission ” You looked at him through the corner of your eyes. “He must have been very reckless.” He said, his voice still hinting at the frustration of his predicament. “Sometimes. But he also got things done.” 

It was excruciatingly easy for your interest to go from getting him out because of the Herald to getting him out because he was unhappy. It was like muscle memory. You'd see those golden orbs even hinting at unhappiness and you'd stop to help. 

“Yes, but they are threatening me with…medical assistance.” He spat the last two words.

You were about to reply but another familiar voice shouted, coming closer. Jayce was making his way towards both of you in quick steps, his arm extended upwards as if he could go unnoticed. He was wearing a similar look to his partner, his face determined and clean-shaven. A stark contrast to the last time you saw him.

“Viktor!” he shouted again. “Jayce!” Viktor mimicked his intonation but not his enthusiasm, straightening back up and leaning into his cane. “I thought you were gone, buddy!” Jayce declared, squeezing Viktor’s arm. “Nope…still here.” “Mel wants to get me on stage with her. Usually, I’m ok with it -- Oh…Hello…” he looked at you and paused, only now realizing there was a third person there and who that third person was. “I'm Councillor Jayce Tallis of the Tallis Family.”

He showed you his hand and you took it, shaking it confidently. It has been a while since you have seen him like this. Not excited, given the time and place, but carefree, normal…untraumatized.

“I know who you are.” You stated and he nodded. “I also know who you are.” He gave you an uncomfortable grin. “Caitlyn was not happy about your mother paying off a Judge to set you free.”

Viktor audibly groaned and you could almost see him run a hand from forehead to chin.

“Mr. Tallis,” you smiled at him, squaring your shoulders and tilting your head to the side. “My mother didn’t pay a judge to set me free. She paid an attorney to write a legally binding document that would allow me to keep being a person of interest in the investigation, but instead of rotting in a jail cell until someone decided to pluck me out because they figured out how to put me in the pit for good, I would be doing it so from the comforts of my own home.”

Silence between the scientists. You gave Jayce the sweetest of smiles and added.

“Fortunately I was born on the side of the bridge that allows me those types of…leniency.”

Jayce was about to retort back but Viktor beat him to the punch.

“I hardly think antagonizing the child of one of our benefactors is going to show a united front.”

“Ah…right… I forgot.” He blabbered, pushing a hand through his gelled hair. “How’s Esther? Madame Rainemour…you mother…” “Sick and working.”  “Yes, we received her letter.” Jayce smiled awkwardly, grasping at any straw that would make him look more approachable. “Editors' deadlines are just like Investors deadlines. Pesky little buggers.”

The deep exasperated sigh that Viktor lets out behind you was enough for Jayce to understand what he had said. You were so close to bursting out laughing. This was the elixir for all your troubles, Jayce Tallis and Viktor bickering. They could go for hours really.

“The deadlines! I meant the deadlines!” Jayce corrected himself

His shoulders deflated and you snickered, stealing a glance at Viktor, who was supporting a disapproving expression, holding his head on his fingertip, slightly shaking it.

“No worries Councilor. I understand these are…trying times.” You acknowledge, trying to get him out of his funk. “Yes.” He sighed deeply, stealing a glance at Mel’s form behind him. 

“You should go to her.” You encouraged softly, he looked at you surprised and you shrugged. “Help with the speech and all. United front. The councilors and the science.”

And if he was on stage, the criminal that was gonna jump her would be easier to fend off too. Jayce would jump at the opportunity to be a hero and unlike others, he would do it without wanting recognition, although it kept knocking on his door. That’s just who he was.

“Viktor?” He asked and you turned to look at his partner. “Go. If this is your conduit with all of our patrons, I fear we won’t have any funding left when this is over.” He rolled his eyes but smiled at his friend. “They’re right. Mel looks like she could use a muscled, broad shoulder to lean on right now.”

Jayce nodded and sighed, gaze moving to you again. He pushed his hand out again and you took it.

“I am sorry. I’m usually much more… likable.”  “You still are. Good luck.” 

You watch him walk back to Mel and place a gentle hand on her lower back, her shoulders immediately relaxing. Mel had been a good friend once upon a time and a fighter until the end.

“Please don’t judge him too harshly. He has good intentions…most of the time.” Viktor gave you a one-shoulder shrug accompanied by a side smile.

You saw a flash of pink behind him and noticed Vi approaching the center of the square, hunched down, hands in pockets. The ensemble cast was almost all here. Searching the crowd you felt a couple of eyes on you and turned your gaze to the only missing piece of the night.

If looks could kill, you'd be dead. Her eyes held the intensity of grief and loss, but also the need for vengeance and retribution and you were her closest target at the moment.

The lights began to dim and you sighed, turning your back to the Enforcer towards the stage. Let the show begin. 

People kept filling the empty spaces and getting closer to hear and see the speech. You felt Viktor’s presence behind you and took a deep breath. If something happened it would be easier to have him here where you could account for him, rather than him being with Jayce on stage.

The place was now packed with a multitude of people, from all places in Piltover. Well, all places on this side of the bridge. Some had settled in a position where they could see the unveiling while others kept moving around trying to find a better spot. 

A rushing couple was making their way to the front of the square and hit Viktor’s cane. The familiar thud and a surprised grunt were enough for you to step backward and put an arm up, without turning to him, knowing full well how he would usually stand, leaning his full weight on his walking aid.

“Thank you.” He mumbled, placing a hand on your clothed shoulder and another in your arm, to keep his balance. “No problem.” You whispered, trying to distract yourself from the touch by placing the tip of your foot under the cane and jerking your leg up, pulling the cane upwards to your hand. “Here you go.”

Viktor grabbed the cane with the hand that had been in your arm but kept the other on your shoulder. He didn’t know it, but this was a somewhat normal stance for both of you. Either a hand on the shoulder or in the crooked of your elbow. Especially on his worst days. Now it was starting to grow heavier and heavier. 

It's just Viktor. Good old reliable Viktor. You repeated and stole a glance at your present company, his always cold hand gently grasping your shoulder, his neck craned a bit to check the people around him, his golden eyes narrowed as he looked onto the crowd.

“You’re staring. “ he announced, his eyes turning to look down at you for a second and going back to scan the crowd. “Just wondering why you're standing here and not there.” You pointed to the backstage entrance, heavily guarded by two Enforcers. “Well, since I am here against my will, might as well stand wherever I feel like.” You snorted and saw him shrug. “Besides, I have seen and talked with these faces before. Many times. You are undoubtedly the most interesting person in the room.”

You blinked a couple of times, looking up at the man, who finally dropped his gaze to you. It takes him a moment to understand the words that came out. So much like Jayce sometimes. After a beat, he shrugged.

“Eh…it’s the truth. Do with it what you want.” His shoulders relaxed and he turned his face to the stage, and the curtains opened. You felt your cheeks redden involuntarily.

A podium stood in front of something covered with a sheet. You inhaled, held it, and exhaled. Mel began her speech and you mimicked Viktor’s action from before, your eyes darting from left to right, checking every face in the crowd, every enforcer. You spotted Vi, with her pink hair and bright red coat, although she wasn’t looking at the stage but at Caitlyn, who, much like you was scanning the crowd.

Mel’s melodic voice kept going and you kept scanning. Your focus shifted from the people to the glass house around you. It was a beautiful structure, glass and cast iron. A greenhouse of sorts, made for any type of celebration.  The glass ceiling gave everyone a beautiful view of the night sky, not yet fully dark, some purple reminiscing from the sunset. 

“I’ll never understand Piltover’s obsession with glass ceilings.” Viktor whispered as you were looking up, matching your own silent concern from before.

“People in glass houses, throwing rocks at people with glass ceilings.” You mumbled back, turning your head towards his, watching his golden orbs observing you with curiosity.

“Something like that, yes.”

You turned your head back to the stage where the statue of the three deceased councilors was displayed. Anytime now. 

The beat of your heart was quickly ramping up, loud and rhythmic, only countered by your slow breathing. You became hyper-focused. Every single movement, sound, or feeling was exacerbated. 

Clothes rustling, soft sniffles, feet shuffling on the ground. The thunderous ‘ba-dum’ of your heart in your ears, Viktor’s breathing behind you, his cane scraping the floor to find a more comfortable position, his hand on your shoulders.

Your breath quickened and you became aware of how many people were inside the glass house, how it had taken a single person on stage to make this crowd stomp their way out. 

The ripping of clothes as people ran, the sound of glass breaking, the shards burning where they slashed anything soft, the sound of children crying, the last gasp someone took before dying. 

Your eyes glazed over as your focus became panicked. You won’t be able to run out fast enough, Jayce would get Mel, Caitlyn would help Vi and you could easily grasp Viktor's arm and drag him out. But what about them, the others, the innocent people who were simply living? You couldn't save them all.

A cane scraped the ground again and something squeezed your shoulder. You looked at it. Purple sinewy fingertips, squeezing your shoulder, golden gears around his wrists.

“I need to go…” you managed to blurt out as the line between this reality and the other started to blur.

“Is everything ok?” Viktor’s soft voice sounded worried. But you heard the twisted metallic twang he had gotten after…ascending…adding a cruel ‘my friend’.

“I can’t breathe.” You choked, starting to walk backward into the protesting crowd. 

You bumped into someone and whipped your head around to look back at the angry figure. The figure of an angry woman glitched into an imposing, familiar construct. And your body just stopped moving. You willed your feet to run and get as far from the enemy as fast as possible, but nothing. You tried to get your arms to punch the thing. But all you could do was blink at the mechanical deadly beauty. 

“You’re not here. I’m not there.” You mumbled incoherently.

You felt a hand grab your elbow and pull you away from the creature and into the wall of shadows that were forming around you.

“Excuse me. Thank you.” You heard someone in front of you mumble as they dragged you along by the elbow. “Coming through. Thank you kindly, good sir.”

You let yourself be dragged, looking over your shoulder towards the angel you stood tall and bright, tilting its head. 

“Oh no…” you whimpered. “I have you. Come on.”

Your breathing started to hitch at your throat, your face flushed, and your heart both felt like it was stopping and going faster. 

The cool night air hit your face and you turned your face towards the night sky, your wide eyes losing sight of the robot. The hand on your elbow moved lower and was now holding your hand, gently pulling you along the sidewalk. A cold, pale, calloused hand with long fingers. Human. Viktor.

The sounds of your footsteps mixed with the gentle tap of Viktor’s cane had your mind finding perch in this reality again. 

“Vik?” You squeaked and the scientist stopped to look at you, his eyes filled with concern. “Come. It’s a close walk to the Lab. It will be quiet at this time.”

• ············ • ············ •

@marshy-moo @victormydarling @blueesmiski @th3stup1dcat @22carolina08 @httpstes @that-one-shitty-blog @disa-pointment @sseleniaa @moons-lighttrail @aysluxe @fae-doodle @kitewa @local-mr-frog @bakusquadobsessed @cherry-cola-100 @optimistic-but-very-realistic @seeksrsnn @thecordelialetters @notsaelty @lansy-4 @ayupfrogg

[utterlyotterlyx]

What The Water Gave Me

Lucien x Tamlin!Sister!Reader

Part Two to Way Down We Go

Summary - Tamlin finds out that his little sister isn't so little anymore.

Warnings - angst, threats of death, light humour, fluff, suggestive themes

That afternoon in the dining room had stuck to your memory for weeks.

Every time you closed your eyes flashes of Lucien's head between your thighs blossomed to the forefront of your consciousness, so it was no surprise really that you found yourself drifting away into the memory whenever you could.

Tamlin had returned that evening none the wiser to the antics floating between his little sister and best friend, and you had to supress the grin from forming on your lips when he sat at the seat where only hours before you were begging Lucien to put a child in you.

The same mischief was laced in Lucien's orbs when they flickered to you, silently promising to continue on his quest the moment he had you alone. His lips parted deliciously, and his teeth grasped at the tip of his fork as he slid the honeyed meat into his mouth, chewing slowly with his gaze unmoving from you across the table. It was lucky that Tamlin didn't see his friend ripping your clothes off with his eyes, and it was even more fortunate that you had managed to keep your sex crazed scent hidden from the beast beside you.

Lucien had no issue keeping that hushed promise, scaling the manor walls and slipping through your bedroom window that night, slowly unbuttoning his shirt as he approached you, licking his lips at the sight of your nipples that were piqued against the satin of your ivory nightgown.

That was sent to the floor in tatters within a matter of minutes.

Something about a child had made Lucien turn positively feral, the state it drove him into was far more exhilarating than the craze caused by the mating bond. Lucien couldn't take his eyes off of you, not even for a second. If you were walking in the gardens then Lucien would be watching you from the patio, if you were floating along the streams then Lucien would be walking along the bank with his eyes scouring over your body. No matter where you were, even if you couldn't see him, Lucien was always keeping a keen eye on you.

Maybe the thought of you carrying his babe had spurred on the possessiveness, but you didn't mind it. Not one bit. The perfect moments of your days had been consumed by the thought of having Lucien buried inside of you, fangs scraping against the shell of your ear whilst he muttered of how perfect you were to him, and how even more beautiful you'd be with you stomach swelling with his child.

You should have put two and two together sooner really.

The morning you had first scented the minor change in your body had made you gasp and bolt upright in your bed. Your fingers drifted to your abdomen, and you could almost feel the adoration flowing from the small seed sprouting in your stomach. The moment of wonder was soon replaced by fear, you knew you wouldn't be able to hide the scent from Tamlin for long, let along your soon-to-be changing figure.

Unfortunately, every time you had gone to find Lucien to tell him, to figure out a plan, he had been too busy. Some days he had been gone patrolling the boarders or vanquishing the naga, other days Tamlin had dragged him into hours long meetings, and then Tamlin had sent him away to act as emissary during a visit to the Dawn Court, on what business you weren't sure but it was paining you to keep the news from him.

One afternoon, two weeks after you had discovered you were to have his child, you had found yourself submerged in one of the ponds in the gardens with the sun beating down on you and caressing the barely there swell of your stomach. It had been lonely keeping the news to yourself, but you had been lucky to be able to share it with your animal friends that littered the grounds, from the mother birds to the school of fox cubs that were growing more and more each day. Now, instead of peppering your face with their love, their snouts and beaks would gently stroke against your stomach, and the run of the fox cubs would often curl himself atop of it and sigh with happiness.

The water was soothing, it seemed to know exactly which ache to kiss and when, from the knots in your shoulders to the pestering throbbing in your breasts. Every time you went into the water, you emerged refreshed and revitalised, with unbound damp hair drinking in the sunlight and warmth provided from the air.

Though, nothing about what was about to occur was either refreshing or revitalising.

The patio doors burst open, and Lucien spied you in the pond from where he stood, urgency was laced in his eyes and he looked back only momentarily before he sped across the garden, through the hedges and over the mounds, to reach you.

Lucien's presence startled you, and not only because you weren't expecting him to return home so soon. You rose from the water as he approached, not even bothering to take off his boots as he trudged through the water to stand by your side, or rather, behind you.

"I may have forgotten to put the shield up," Lucien nearly squeaked, eyes darting about the garden before landing on the patio where Tamlin stood, knuckles turned white and a fire burning in his eyes that you had never seen before, "He may have scented the bond on me."

"What?"

"I was tired," Lucien offered as an excuse, wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you backward.

"This is exactly what I was trying to avoid," you snapped at him with your gaze unmoving from your brother who slowly prowled down the stone steps that led into the gardens, his own eyes fixated on you.

"I may now understand why you wanted that," you elbowed him in the ribs and he emitted a soft ooft at the action.

You turned your head to the side to capture his eyes, "Really? Only now?"

Tamlin continued to prowl through the gardens, weaving between the hedges and flowerbeds, dressed in his usual green tunic with his hands drifting at his sides. A strange calm was on his face, and he stopped just where the water met the grass, the tips of his boots kissing the waters edge. "Care to tell me something?"

The tone in his voice was dangerous, and it made a shudder flow down your spine. Lucien's fingers gripped the seams of your dress, "I-" Lucien cleared his throat, lopping a finger under his collar to alleviate some pressure, "We. Didn't want you to find out this way."

Cocking his head to the side, eyes lethally serene, your brother asked, "Find out what, exactly?"

A wave of love flowed down the bond between you and your mate, a silent promise that no matter what reaction was about to be seen, that you would always have one another.

"Lucien and I are mates."

Tamlin growled at the words, his top lip curling into a snarl, and his green gaze shot to Lucien who was still stood behind you, knee deep in pondwater with his heart threating to pound right out of his chest. "No. No you're not."

"The last time I checked I'd definitely say that we are."

"Don't be a brat right now, y/n," you couldn't quite decipher the emotion in his eyes, the pain and sense of betrayal, the disbelief, the rage that was creeping in. Tamlin pointed to Lucien, his finger quaking with anger, "You. Out of that damned pond. Right. Now."

"I don't think that that's the best idea."

"Y/N," Tamlin warned, his eyes shooting between you and Lucien before dragging downward to the hands secured around your waist, notably to the thumb stroking against your stomach. "You're meant to be my best friend. My best friend and my sister, I cannot believe this."

"Do you think I wanted this to happen-"

"You didn't?"

Lucien pinched his nose and inhaled deeply, "Now is not the time y/n-"

"Lucien. Out of the water now, before I come in there myself and kill you."

Lucien went to move from you, to obey his High Lord and friend, but you stopped him, "You won't hurt him," you told Tamlin, moving from Lucien's embrace and approaching the waters edge, stepping up onto the grass and craning your gaze upward, "You wouldn't leave your niece fatherless, would you?"

"What?"

"What?"

Ignoring Lucien's repetition from his place in the pond, you took a further step toward Tamlin, taking his calmed hands in yours and guiding them to your abdomen, willing your shield to disappear so that he could witness the change in your scent. Not only was it a myriad of you and Lucien, but it was kissed with a something new, something loving and innocent and fresh.

"I love him, Tam. I really love him. And I didn't want to tell you, I didn't want to hurt your feelings or make you think that we wouldn't stay with you, to aid you in ruling over our home. I'm sorry if you feel betrayed, but you will not hurt my mate, not unless you wish to hurt me and our child too."

"You're pregnant," he whispered, the emotion in his eyes morphing into pure unfiltered wonderment as his fingers grazed over your growing stomach, feeling the rapid heartbeat of the small babe blossoming inside of you, "You love him?"

"More than anything."

Then, Tamlin smiled, "You're carrying a girl?"

You matched his grin, "I think so. I have a feeling," you cocked your head to the side slightly, "And she's going to love you, but only if you leave her father unharmed."

Tamlin hummed and looked past you, beckoning Lucien from the water who appeared at your side within a matter of moments, looking down on you with a newfound love, "If you hurt her-"

"I'd sooner harm myself than ever think of it," Lucien muttered, not sparing Tamlin a glance, hoping that he would take it as a sign to leave, which thankfully, he did. "You didn't say anything."

Inhaling, you peered up at your mate, his hands caressed your stomach and you could see the tears pooling in his eyes, "There was never a good time. You were patrolling the boarders and getting pulled into all of those meetings, and then you were sent away. I didn't want to rush telling you, I wanted it to be perfect," you grinned, and then prodded his chest with your finger, "And then someone just had to let their glamour down."

Huffing a laugh, Lucien scratched the side of his face sheepishly, "It wasn't one of my finer moments I'll admit," his hands came to rest on your hips and his dipped his head low to connect your lips with his, breathing in the scent of your bond alongside the new addition of your child. "I'm going to be a father."

"And we don't have to hide anymore."

"Am I dreaming?"

Chuckling, you rested your head against his chest and felt every ounce of tension leave your body as your bond glowed so golden that it threatened to drown the sun, "I hope not."

Lucien pressed his lips into the crown of your head and ran his fingers down your spine, "It seems that we have a ceremony to plan."

And as if on cue, you heard Tamlin from inside the manor barking orders to the aids, ones that beckoned as many flowers that the grass could carry and a High Priest, for if anyone was going to have the perfect mating ceremony, then he'd be damn sure that it was going to be his little sister.

Author's Note

brb crying.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Being Goo Kim's Secret Friend: an introduction

G/N. Trying maybe a new lil storyline. General shenanigans with reader as a secret friend. Masterlists

Goo Kim's circle of secret friends is a very exclusive and private club you are proud to be part of.

Would have figuratively and literally worn the declaration like a badge of honour if it wasn't supposed to be, well - secret.

How he had come to hear about you is still a head scratcher, although you suppose you have built up quite a reputation if you asked the right people.

You know a lot about a lot. Have your finger in all the pies. Developed a knack for keeping your ears low to the ground and anything you don't know, you dare say isn't worth knowing.

Sticking your nose into places it didn't belong though, it should have gotten you into a lot of trouble-

But god has his favourites. Despite your lack of physical prowess, you rolled the dice and somehow accrued enough luck and passable charm for things to work out for you in most situations.

Most.

Your leg has pretty much healed completely after the incident a few years back. It just tends to click a lot whenever you bend your knee. It's fine, you can live with it, after all you should have seen the other guy.

Spoiler alert: he's dead.

.

.

"You owe me, babe." The blonde grins, wiping off his sword with-

"Hey, that's my jacket!" Despite being unsteady on your feet and your right leg throbbing painfully, you hobble over to yank it out of his hands.

"Sorry," he doesn't look sorry at all. He crouches down, opting to use the recently deceased guy's shirt instead. It's terribly disrespectful of the dead.

"He's really dead, huh." You give the body a harsh nudge with your foot. There's nothing, not even a choked gurgle. Just an ever growing puddle of blood and two lifeless orbs peering up at the open sky.

"'Fraid so," he answers, sliding his glasses back up his nose.

"Good." Then you add, "What's your name again?"

.

.

And it's not so much that you're indebted to Goo Kim.

You like to think that you're practically innocent in this. He's the one that pulled the trigger, the actual sword, the very first time you met him and off-ed the guy who was a pain in your ass. It's not like you could control what that blonde maniac chooses to do. 

(Not that you think this defence would hold up in a court of law.)

(...And yes you're thankful, but you have a feeling he was just trying to make a dramatic entrance more than anything.)

So no, you're not indebted to him. It's a mutually beneficial relationship. 

You help Goo with his little queries and his morally grey (if you're being generous) errands; in return there's a steady stream of income and the more efficient and discreet you are, the heftier the tip too.

.

.

Sure, yes, Goo can be a very difficult customer.

His personality takes a bit of getting used to, and you admire your own restraint at not beating him black and blue.

Honestly, that time you met Gun Park, you knew deep in your soul that you had met a kindred spirit. Your eyes connected as Goo was rambling and being his usual deranged self, and you are absolutely certain that the annoyance and murderous intent in his black eyes was also what was reflected in yours.

Anyway- That's a story for another day.

Back to Goo.

He is clingy at the worst of times and flakey when you actually need him. Throws a tantrum if you don't pick up his calls before the third ring though it's fine when he ignores you for days.

Delights in giving cryptic instructions and orders that are less quirky and more deranged riddles, although it is kind of, sort of, a little endearing how much his eyes light up when you finally work out what he's saying.

His sense of personal space and boundary is also unsurprisingly absent. He has a penchant for nicknames that make you cringe and a fondness for slinging his arm around you and cackling in your ear like you're best friends.

Which you know is a lie.

You weren't born yesterday. He’s friends with you precisely because you are not a fool. You know Goo would sell you up the river without a second thought.

But in the end, none of that matters.

You really really can't oversell how good it is to have friends in high places.

Best of all, a friend who seemingly has no issues killing on your behalf and who leaves their own fingerprints all over the scene of the crime.

[lxkeee]

Hi! Is it okay if I ask for Lucifer seeing female sinner!reader when she is breaking down, panicking from both insecurity and overthinking (generally having trouble breathing and not being able to stop herself from crying at all) and being there with her in general?

Like, what would he say, how would he react, how would he comfort her, stuff like that!

notes: I was debating whether this should be platonic or romantic lmao.

warnings: panic attack.

edit: I fucked up, it said sinner and I accidentally made reader a fallen angel here lmfao omgg 😭

Lucifer is trying his best, even though he dissociates a lot and doesn't realize how much time has passed, he spends most of his time in his room just making rubber ducks or doing paperworks. After he and Lilith split, he had fallen more into depression and began to slowly lose his will to do his duties, hell would've crumbled apart if it weren't for his closest friend who decided to help him run his kingdom. [Y/n] fell from grace at the same time as him as she was an accomplice, Lucifer begged for her forgiveness years ago—apologizing for bringing her to this mess but the woman just chuckled and told him it was fine, she believed in his intentions and it was her decision to follow him.

Thinking about her, he realizes he barely saw her, let alone he forgot when was the last time he saw her. A couple of months ago? He barely saw her as she took it upon herself to lead as he isn't fit to lead as of lately, she is his right hand man afterall.

On top of that, with her taking on his duties, she also made sure to check up on him occasionally to make sure he is still functioning.

“I really need to show her my appreciation... She's doing so much for me...” Lucifer mutters as he lies on his bed, a few rubber ducks on his mattress. His recent memory of her is when she came back to check up on him and he noticed how tired she looked.

“Luci, how are you doing these days? Do you feel slightly better?” the door in his bedroom opened as she entered his room, he was making a new rubber duck and her voice cut off his concentration. He turned around to face her and gave her a grin, “I have been feeling slightly better, [n/n]! Time off seems to be doing me some good.” he says with a smile but his smile faded a little as he noticed how her eyes looked so... Tired... The usual sparkle gone and her once vibrant orbs now dull. Worry fills his chest as he hesitantly asks her, “Are you okay...?” he spoke softly and her eyes widened before giving him a closed eyed smile and when she opened her eyes again, that sparkle was there once more.

“Of course, don't worry too much about me. You should worry about yourself first.” [y/n] says softly with a smile and he just nodded, deciding not to push her boundaries. “If you say so...” he says softly and the two hanged out that afternoon before she decided to take a rest in her room—as she had a room in the palace as she did help in making it.

Lucifer sighs once more, he's worried for her. She's always working so hard. He grabbed a nearby rubber duck and held it near his face, “Mr. Waddles, I'm such a bad friend... She keeps on checking up on me but I forget to check up on her...” he says softly. He's afraid to admit it out loud, but he always loves her. Sure, he loves Lilith with all his heart but it was [y/n] who's his first love but he was too scared to confess and then he met Lilith and he fell inlove with her. Though, after his separation with Lilith, it feels like his love for [y/n] is returning but he doesn't want to think too much about it and wants it to develop properly. After all, he doesn't want to make her a rebound. That's why he wanted to fix himself first and give himself time.

He sighs to himself once more before eventually getting out of bed, he needs to get a drink. He got out of his room, passing by many rooms. He passes by [y/n]'s room. His body stopped as he heard soft sobs. It was coming from [y/n]'s room.

A few moments ago.

[y/n] angrily storms back into the castle, tears running down her cheeks. She just finished a meeting with Adam at the heaven's embassy building. It was just a meeting about hell's population. The meeting would've been bearable if it weren't for Adam's misogynistic attitude towards her. How she isn't fit to lead and how egoistical she is for putting herself in Lucifer's shoes. The major stabbing words she received is when Adam told her how pathetic she is for doing this to a man who doesn't even bat an eye on her. “You're really doing all of this for a dick you can't suck.” is what Adam said to her condescendingly with a mocking laughter. She doesn't even think of Lucifer in lustful thoughts, she only sees him in romantic scenarios, going on dates, holding hands, being there for each other.

It truly reminded her that Lucifer wouldn't be hers.

She's grateful that she was able to keep it together for the rest of the meeting but when she left, she couldn't hold back anymore and quickly teleported to her room.

She couldn't think properly. Chest heaving up and down irregularly. Barely catching her breath as she covers her mouth with her hands to muffle her cries so that Lucifer won't hear her. Though, a few sobs escaped here and there.

She felt so pathetic, so tired. Voices of other demon's comments on her work are starting to repeat in her head. She was only upset by the comments made by Adam but now, she's crying for everything as all the pain and exhaustion she was bottling up has now exploded.

She curls up in her bed, wanting to be as small as possible. Hair messy, dark circles around her eyes. Dull [e/c] orbs. Shining no more as she was exposed more and more to the cruelty of mankind.

She can only have herself to blame, she wanted to be here with him. A speck of light in darkness, slowly getting dull.

Lucifer hesitantly holds his hand towards the door handle to [y/n]'s room, he knows she's crying in there and each second his heart slowly breaks for her. He is debating whether to leave her alone or go inside and comfort her.

“For fucks sake, I need to go there and be there for her.” he mutters before sighing and then taking a deep breath. Curling up his fingers and then knocked on her door.

“[y/n]? It's me... Can I come in...?” He asked softly and he could hear the hitch of her voice when she heard him.

A brief moment, silence.

“Yes... You can... Come in...” she said behind the door, her voice audibly breaking and Lucifer was close to crying just by hearing how broken she sounded. But this isn't about him, so he composed himself and opened the door.

A truly heartbreaking sight to see, his best friend sitting at the corner of her bed and room, knees pressed against her chest as she tries to look as composed while her breathing is uneven. Eyes red and puffy, dark circles surrounding it. “Oh... [N/n], What's wrong...?” he asked softly and that question alone was enough to make her burst into tears. Lucifer panicked and quickly closed the door and then went to her side. Putting an arm around her. “Sshh... It's okay, I'm here... You can talk to me...” he says softly and [y/n] just sobbed and continues to hyperventilate. He remembers how she used to calm him down when he was in this position. “[y/n]... Look at me...” he says, voice gentle and [y/n] hiccups but hesitantly looked at him. “Can you try to focus on your breathing for me? Follow my breathing... Can you do that...?” he asked softly and she weakly nodded. “Okay... Take a deep breath and inhale...” he says, doing the action and gently urging her to follow. [Y/n] trying her best to match his slow and deep breathing. “Now... Exhale...” he says softly and exhaled, [y/n] following shortly after him. “You're doing great sweetheart. Now inhale...” he says, “Exhale...”

Once Lucifer notices she's beginning to calm down, he needs to move into the next step. “Focus on your breathing sweetheart, can you identify five things you can see for me...?” he asked softly and she nodded weakly, still trying to focus on her breathing while looking at her surroundings.

“The desk...”

“The window...”

“My pillows...”

“The hanged picture of us...”

“You...”

Lucifer smiled, his other hand gently playing with her hair, “You're doing so good sweetheart, now.. Can you tell me four things you can touch for me please?” he asked softly and she nodded.

“Your suit...”

“My blanket...”

“My pillows...”

“Your hand...”

She says softly, her breathing slowly going back to normal and he nodded, proud of her. “Very good, now, can you name me three things you can hear?” he asked softly and she nodded.

“Your heartbeat...”

“Your voice...”

“And your hand rubbing against my arm...”

Lucifer was trying hard not to blush and quickly calmed himself, “You're doing so well, can you tell me two things you can smell...? Can you do it for me?” he asked softly, grabbing a nearby tissue and gently wiped the tears off her cheeks, “Your perfume... And the smell of apples...” she answers.

“Now... Can you answer one more question for me?” he asked her softly and she nodded, “Can you name me one thing you can taste...?” he asked softly and she nodded, “my... Tears...” she answers, letting out a small chuckle... Occasionally hiccuping but she significantly calmed down. “Now there's my girl, are you feeling better now...?” he asked softly and she nodded, feeling exhausted after crying so much. “Do you want to talk about it...?” he asked and she shook her head and he nodded, “Alright, how about we rest for a bit? I am sure you have been very tired.” he says and allows [y/n] to get into a comfortable position to lie down on her bed. He was surprised when she held his hand, looking at him as if asking him to join her. He sighs before smiling softly and decided to take the extra space of her bed and cuddled her with her the little spoon. Both of them could feel their hearts beating erratically but decided to calm down as this isn't the time and this isn't the first time they cuddled in bed. [Y/n] was so tired that after calming herself, she quickly fell asleep on his arms.

Lucifer noticed her to have fallen asleep so quickly and he just smiled and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Sleep well, [y/n]. You deserve it.”

[ponderingmoonlight]

How JJK men react when (y/n) gets injured

Pairing: Nanami x reader; Megumi x reader; Toji x reader; Geto x reader

Word Count: 2,4k

Warnings: injury (lol), listen I know Geto's one isn't that realistic, I just needed something with a lot of fluff, don't come at me okay, also might be shitty because my sick head isn't funcional at the moment so have mercy How Gojo reacts when (y/n) gets injured can be found here Aaaaand Choso with a injured (y/n) who has blood phobia here

Nanami Kento

You weren’t fast enough. The second the bullet enters your skin, you know you fucked up.

“(y/n)!”, Nanami’s distant voice calls out your name.

You clench your teeth, blood pumping in your ears while a stabbing pain spreads in your guts. This is bad. Very very bad. This is a mission you have to complete together, Nanami and Yuji both rely on you. Fuck, you’re a jujutsu sorcerer, even a grade 1. And then you get hit by a bullet this easily?

How pathetic.

It seems like the weight of your own body forces you to your knees, warmth spreading from your stomach over your lower body. Slowly but surely, the stabbing pain in your guts gets less noticeable, you have to fight desperately to keep your eyes from shutting.

Nanami…It’s not fair that you let him hang like this, hit by a random bullet on that random Wednesday. After all, you still had so much to tell him, experiences to share. What about the plans you’ve made earlier about finally asking him out? The words slip off your tongue with every passing second. No matter how hard every fiber of your being fights against the darkness, it proceeds to consume you.

“Goddamnit (y/n)”, Nanami hisses through gritted teeth when he finally reaches you.

“Yuji, take care of that man with the gun!”

“Hey, you can’t die on me today. Keep your eyes open for me, yeah? Don’t close them. Are you able to stand up?”

So much blood. The whole floor underneath you is covered in crimson, making it hard to breathe for Nanami. This shouldn’t have happened, he is fucking responsible for this, he should have kept his eyes open, he-

“I’m so sorry about leaving you hanging, Nanami”, you breathe out.

His heart sinks, hand frantically pressing against your gaping wound while his shaky fingers try to dial Shoko’s number on his phone.

“You won’t leave me today. I’m taking care of you. You’re safe with me.”

A weak smile forms itself on your tired lips as he speaks to Shoko on the phone in hushed tones. While everyone around him thinks he’s harsh and cold-hearted, you know that Nanami is in fact a tender man that puts the safety of others over himself without blinking. You always admired him for how he carries himself with so much class, looking cool while doing the most banal tasks.

“How is your pain level? Do you need anything? Shoko will be here in a minute, I promise”, he speaks to you in a calm but shaky voice.

“I don’t feel any pain. I just feel really really tired.”

Your eyes threaten to flutter shut again when Nanami’s thumb begins to caress your cheek gently.

“Everything will be alright, I promise (y/n)”, he softly murmurs.

You can tell by the way he looks down at you that he means what he says, the way his calm orbs glister making you tear up.

“I really wanted…to ask you out…tonight…”

Every word rolls off your tongue like a heavy stone while your mind seems to let you down.

“I would love that. Just stay with me, okay? Then I’ll invite you to dinner, I’ll even cook your favorite meal for you.”

“That sounds…wonderful…”

“But to do that, you’ll need to hold on for me a little longer, sweetheart. Focus on my voice, breathe with me”, he instructs you.

“Can you…hold me for a while?”

“Of course”, he replies without thinking, firm arms wrapping themselves around your shivering body instantly.

Megumi Fushiguro

Even though you feel like fainting, you don’t stop running behind him. Damn, that curse did really hit you where it hurts, your stabbed thigh feeling like it’s going to give up on you with every step you take.

“Did that curse hurt you?”, he shouts in your direction.

You should really tell him, you know you need help as soon as possible. But something inside you is too proud to open up. After all, the boy in front of you is none other Megumi Fushiguro. You can’t show him weakness, not in a million lifetimes.

“No”, you lie.

Just in time, you make it out of the building that collapses into itself behind you, a wave of rubble and ashes blowing over your head while you lay down, trying desperately not to groan. You press your hand against your thigh to somehow stop the pain, only to get greeted by the sickening sight of blood all over your hands. You swallow heavy, blood running between your fingertips.

“(y/n)? (y/n), where are you, oh, there you-“

Megumi stops in his tracks, eyes widen in horror when is gaze meets the flood of crimson that now covers the floor underneath you.

“You idiot, why did you lie to me?”, he hisses, instantly rushing to your side.

Oh god, there’s a gaping hole in your thigh – a gaping hole that runs like a waterfall. While you’re not that critically injured, the attack might have hit a crucial vein or artery. And that means you could in fact bleed out within the next few minutes if he doesn’t act right now.

Your toe-curling cry echoes through the barracks when Megumi presses his hand against your thigh with full force, making you see stars while a big lump forms in your throat.

“Serves you right. You should have told me that you’re hurt, you know that right? How many fingers?”

He holds up his other hand so close to your face that you can see nothing but his fingertips, a silent laughter escaping your blue colored lips.

“I’m serious (y/n)! Stop laughing and answer the question”, he grumbles.

“5”, you reply weakly.

 “It’s two”, he murmurs, eyes scanning over your so worn-out looking face.

“You look rather pale.”

“Oh, I’m not feeling that great to be honest”, you mutter, ice cold sweat clamming to your skin.

He lets out his breath, gaze fixated on you. It seems like his anger fades away the more he looks at you, shivering uncontrollably while your eyes flutter open and shut all the time. Urgh, even though you’re suborn as hell, you absolutely don’t deserve to feel like this.

“Come on, stop acting up. You’ve had worse.”

You don’t reply. Instead, your hand grabs his arm, holding onto him for what feels like dear life as a single tear runs down your face. You hate to admit it, but you’re scared as hell. If feels like life is slipping through your fingers, seconds play before your eyes like a movie. This is the first time you’ve ever got injured like that. And even if Megumi tries to play it cool, you can tell by the way he scrunches his forehead that it’s looking anything but great.

“I just didn’t want you to think I’m weak”, you admit quietly.

His heart skips a beat, his features soften in an instant.

“Are you kidding? I’d never think you’re weak, (y/n). To be honest I’m surprised you haven’t fainted yet”, he remarks dryly.

To be honest he is surprised that he himself hasn’t fainted, considering all the flood that spills through his fingertips. But he has to be strong, he has to get through this with you.

“Pinky promise?”, you croak, holding up your shaky hand with all the strength that’s left in your body.

“Pinky promise”, Megumi whispers, intertwining his finger with your little one.

Toji Fushiguro

“Oooops my bad, that one should have normally killed you”, the man in front of you mumbles, a cheeky grin plastered on his face.

You shake in pure horror, pain rushing through your shoulder as you hold onto the gaping wound his bullet left in your sensitive skin.

“Please don’t kill me”, you weep, crawling backwards until your back hits the ice cold wall.

Spilling tears take your sight completely, you can’t help but burst into weeping without any mercy. Toji stares down at you, cold eyes surprised by your sight.

“I think I’ve never seen someone bawling this much. Did it really hurt that bad, huh?”

You stare at him through wet lashes, whole body on fire when his frame comes closer and closer. No, you need to run as fast as you can, away from this wicked place, out of his sight.

But instead, you sit still, glazed eyes fixated on his stunning features.

Roughly, he grabs your face, making you weep all over again.

“You’re actually quite cute…Maybe too cute to die…”

“Oh, come on sweet thing, stop crying for me will you?”

His thumb traces over your puffy cheeks, wipes away the trail of tears his bullet and the promise of death that’s threatening in his eyes left on your porcelain skin.

You can’t catch your breath, gasping for air like a fish on land with your hand still pressed against your aching shoulder.

“Sorry ‘bout that”, he mumbles, other hand reaching for your shoulder.

“Please don’t hurt me”, you cry out, flinching under his surprisingly gentle touch.

“I’m a man of honor, I’d never hurt you”, he replies with casual voice.

“Ahh, nothing too bad. A few kisses and you’re fine.”

You blink against the swell of tears, urgently trying to calm yourself down. Aching, fear and insecurity simply take your breath away. But the man in front of you…Despite looking so dangerous, it’s almost as if his face softened, as if he really means what he said.

“Now stop cryin’, ‘kay? I’m sorry ‘bout that shoulder of yours, thought you’re here to kill me or something.”

“I would never kill anyone”, you reply with shaky voice.

Why would you come here to kill him? All of this makes no sense to you. You just walked home from work, ready to take a bath and watch Netflix when all of the sudden, all this men came out of nowhere, dragging you along with him until the man in front of you killed them and shoot you.

“Oh, I’m sure you wouldn’t princess. Just a misunderstanding.”

“It hurts”, you press out, a shocking wave of pain throbbing through your arm when you try to shift your weight.

“Wouldn’t do that if I was you. Let’s make a deal: I’ll get someone to stitch you up and you’ll spend the night with me, huh?”

Your doe eyes stare up at him in nothing but innocence. Oh, you truly know nothing about the cruel world around you, probably not even able to see curses. What a cute little thing you are, too good for the world around you and especially Toji himself. But he just can’t resist.

“And you’re really not going to kill me?”, you whine into his hand.

Gently, he wraps his fingertips around your chin.

“Of course not, princess. You’re way too precious to die”, he purrs.

Geto Suguru

You know that it’s stupid, that Geto is more than capable to look after himself. But the second a curse rushes his direction, you sprint forwards, shielding his body with your own.

Resulting in not only the teeth of the curse scratching your skin, but one of Geto’s curses hitting your head with full force.

You fall to the hard ground immediately, soul leaving your body behind. Instead of pain, you just feel numb, staring into the sound while the only thing that reminds you that you’re still alive is the growing ringing in your ears.

Geto’s heart drops the second you fall to the ground in front of him, naked fear crawling up his spine. No, no, no. This can’t be true. He didn’t just hit you full force, right? Instinctively, he falls to his knees besides you, grabbing your shoulders.

“Please tell be you’re alright, (y/n)”, he repeats over and over, hands holding onto you for dear life.

He knows you are tuff, that you can take a lot. But this…

Please don’t let it be too much.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you”, he mumbles, fingertips now gently stroking over your hair.

All you can do is stare into his brown eyes above you, body refusing its service completely. God, how absolutely stunning this man looks. Yes, it should be forbidden to look this good. Maybe you should ask him out when your mouth is working again, a nice date in a park or something. His facial features look so delicious that you want to let your hands glide along his jawline, just the way the other hand is doing right now.

“I would love to lick that”, you mutter so suffocated that Geto almost misses it.

Almost. Along with your fingertips that move up and down his jaw, his face reddens in an instant. What has gotten into you? Since when are you this flirty, this straightforward? You must’ve hit your head pretty badly.

“(y/n), I think you should see a doctor”, he suggests while awkwardly scratching the back of his head.

“I think I should see more of you, handsome”, you babble out.

“You hit your head pretty badly.”

“And your head is pretty.”

He signs. Although your sugary words make his heart hammer against his ribcage, he has to remind himself that you’re probably having a concussion - at least. At the moment, he can’t take your words seriously, no matter how hard he wants them to be true.

“Okay, I’ll call Shoko now. Do you feel alright? Does your head hurt? Does something else hurt? Please talk to me, (y/n).”

You smile at him widely, too mesmerized by the way that one strand of hair falls so effortlessly on his striking face.

“What a shame I never told you how beautiful you are”, you blurt out, fingertips grabbing nothing but air in an attempt to get a hold of his hair.

He can’t hold a small grin back. God, how are you doing that? Looking so fine with your arm ripped open by a curse and your eyes roaming around without an aim?

“Look, I’m not the brightest tool in the…toolbox.”

Geto raises an eyebrow in amusement at your creative phrase.

“But I…I mean it…Suguru…”, you mutter out his name.

“Let’s talk about this again when your head wasn’t hit by a curse shaped like a huge dragon, okay?”, he softly whispers, hand still stroking through your messy hair.

“Yeah…S-sure…” _____________________________________________________________ Now that you've made it this far

[littlelostmabari]

I am broken y'all. Medical issues for days, going through a bout of "hey what if you couldn't use ___ body part for a few days" but spin the roulette wheel every week on which body part we are celebrating. A free ache with every spin! Wheee!

So, what else am I to do but write headcannons for my beloved fictional men with a LI with chronic pain. Should be gn. Mostly fluff, tiniest bit of angst with Arthur.

Headcanons for Cullen Rutherford / Gale Dekarios / Arthur Morgan x ChronicPain!Reader

Cullen Rutherford:

Knows exactly why you are limping / taking deep breaths / not getting out of bed today. He's been there with the Lyrium withdrawals. He sometimes sees it before you admit it, because he watches you when youre not looking (hes done this ever since he met you. He can tell if an attack is coming by how often you bite your lip the day before).

Most of his pain is radiating from his head and spine, so he has his tricks for that. Walks you through his stretches. When those don't work, he knows soldiers who have had pain where you have, maybe they know something.

Maker help you if deep tissue / compression helps you, the man is more than happy to put his entire weight on you even if you don't need it. If it helps? You don't need to ask twice.

He also has been wearing heavy armor for more than a decade, which means his joints are fucked. He has tonics hidden away in every corner of his room and office, one within arms reach at all times. There will be one in your hand the moment you even look like you're about to wince.

The withdrawals also cause nausea, so if you have anything GI related, he's got one word to a runner and you have fresh warm and damp clothes with herbs soaked into them. He's a little squeamish with anything that's not like... battlefield related, but it's you so he'll take care of it.

It's rough when your bad days overlap, but you both have been dealing with this for long enough that you have your emergency kits near the bed. You might beg him to knock you out if anything heavy is nearby though.

The difference between you and him though is that he will move mountains to keep you resting in bed when you need it. Inky or no, he will cross coordinate with Josie to make sure everything that you are responsible for is taken off of your plate. Unfortunately he doesn't know the meaning of the word "break" because yes absolutely "Josie will handle that" but as soon as it's something he could hand off to Rylen or one of his other lieutenants, you can be damned sure he's up until 3 bells past midnight making sure its done. (This is actually useful knowledge once you realize that you can ask him what he'd tell you if the roles were reversed...)

The "you should be with someone who isn't broken" talk is... Well, it's kind of hilarious. I don't know who would bring it up first, but the other of you will just laugh and admit you had the same thoughts. Cullen deserves someone who can get up with him every morning without trouble? Well you deserve something better than a washed up Templar with withdrawal issues. It's a tie.

Gale Dekarios:

Another chronic pain girlie. He knows precisely what it feels like when you say that your insides are trying to claw their way out of your body. The nice thing about Gale though is that he doesn't make it about pain Olympics. I think it would be really easy for him to be like "oh well, is it a Netherese orb? Come back when your insides are trying to eat the sheer existence of magic". No, he goes the route of "Unfortunately, my dearest, I know exactly what you mean. What do you need of me? Let me try to allieviate your distress."

During the game events, he dotes on you. The man is love-starved and will do whatever he can to be useful, despite his own pain and suffering. The most useful thing he does, though, is distract. He distracts the others from bothering you too much about it, and he distracts you using whatever means he can, including illusions and bad puns.

During and after the game, the man can cook. He will make you his mother's late season game stew that will perk you right up. Tara mentions offhand that his mother doesn't have a late season game stew, which tells you that he's trying to not only comfort your body but also your mind with images of home and comfort.

After the game, when things have settled, the folks down at the temples of Life domain deities think that he must be studying to become a cleric the way he is inhaling their tomes on pain reduction. If magic can't remove your ailment altogether, the least he can do is minimize your suffering.

The nice thing about living in a wizards tower with unseen servants and all manner of enchantments, is that you can spend time away from your other responsibilities. The house cleans itself, laundry hangs itself, books can be lifted in front of your gaze and pages turned without you lifting a finger. You can spend your energy on existing. (Gale will insist on reading to you, whenever he's home, because he likes to hold you as close as you'll let him... Nevermind him warming and cooling his hands along your back in appropriate intervals to reduce inflammation...)

You bring up the "someone who isn't broken" talk, and he tries to interrupt you the moment he knows where this is going, but when you put a hand up and ask him to let you get through this, he does. He sits patiently while you tell him all the reasons he deserves better, how you're holding him back, and he does not scoff or laugh. He gets a deeper and deeper frown, though, and when you're done, he sinks down from the couch where you are sitting to kneel at the ground at your feet because damn his terrible knees, you need to know that he's not with you because of sympathy or because you are a "project". He's with you because you are the light of his life, his moon and stars, and he wants to have the whole of you. Even if your bad days outnumber your good ones, the fact that he gets to be here, with you, on your bad days is more blessing than he has asked for. You are the reason he isn't Netherese vapor, and, no, he is not with you out of some sense of obligation, he's with you because the man is devoted to you, body and soul. He will spend the evening kissing every inch of you, especially the places you think are ugly or broken, because it would be impossible for him to love you if he didn't love every part of you.

Arthur Morgan:

We would need to break this into high honor and low honor, and low honor Arthur is no fun in these headcannons so HIGH HONOR IT IS. And also no bad things happen to Arthur ever because this is my HCs and Rockstar owns enough of my tears.

If youre in the gang, you manage to hide it from him, from all of them, for the longest time. Grimshaw knows first, and you and she had a long talk when you joined the gang about carrying your weight. You have to work double on your good days but for some unknown reason (it's because you're kind to her, unlike some folks **coughKarencough**) she lets your bad days slide.

Arthur comes back after a haul and there's no reason for you to be holed up in your tent. He understood when you got this way after moving camp, but it's a bright sunny day, the best kind of day to take his girl out riding. But you're huddled on your cot, tonic half drunk because it tastes like ass, eyes pinched shut to the sunlight that streams in as he lifts the flap.

It takes a minute for him to understand. The issue is that he has all those aches and pains, but he deals with them, like everybody else. It's part of living. You have to remind him that his pain goes away, while yours lingers. It's debilitating, and no, you won't be joining him fishing today unless he's willing to remove the part of your body that is on fire and also carry you literally everywhere and not expect you to carry a conversation.

If you're not in the gang, maybe you're a sweetheart he picked up before the shit show in Blackwater. The truth is he doesn't really want to be out and about in the city, which means he's perfectly fine staying home with you. He doesn't understand at first why you move so slowly, like every step is across broken glass, but you get there in the end and share your meals and your fire and your bed.

He is never able to fully empathize, but he's able to take grasps at the idea that you'll never be able to do everything the others do. He thinks he's okay with it until you give him the "you should be with someone who isn't broken" talk.

The talk goes poorly. He doesn't understand why you're sending him away, and when you tell him it's because you love him and want the best for him, it triggers his memories of Mary and he will NOT do that again. He will not give up a good thing, not give up a place where he is needed, where he is wanted so desperately, for the thought that he deserves someone... Better? But it takes a couple days after he storms out for him to drag himself back to your feet. Darlin, he's a bad man. He's done a lot of bad things, the blood on his hands would drown you if you knew it all. If you'll let him love you, even just a little bit, even for a few days here or there, maybe it means he's doing something alright. And you let him because even if he doesn't understand, he does make it better. Even just a little bit.

Arthur is gone a lot more than you'd like, but you know you're on his mind all the time, when he comes home with new tonics, new herbs, something that some doctor said in the closest city to the job he was meant to focus on for Dutch. He lights up when something helps because it means he helped, he helped, he was needed. If it doesn't, he's taking on your extra chores load to make sure none of the others call you a layabout like Uncle. (The first time Micah does it, Arthur lays him out flat.)

Any downtime he has, he'll sit with you. He can't magic away your pain, but he fills your days with the two of you even when you can't get out of bed. Sometimes he draws (his journal is filled with sketches of you sleeping). Sometimes he will call Hosea in for a story from before you joined the gang, or he'll read to you from your favorite books that you already know by heart.

And if he's around for a good day, he's pulling you out of your hidey-hole and making sure that you get enough proper sunshine and a swim and food and maybe a glad or two of the good stuff to make sure you are building happy memories regardless of the days that you spend away from all of those comforts.

Even if he has to carry you. We all know Arthur is strong. If he can use that strength for something other than hurting, he's leaping for it every opportunity. More than once Grimshaw has had to shake her head because she knows you're having a good day, but Arthur insists.

Anyway please take care of yourself and take your pain seriously and find you a partner that is gentle with you on your bad days. Xoxo ~ Mabari

[cherryeyess]

Sweet Comfort

Ever since you & Toji got into that argument about his lazy bum not getting a job, you start to realize he took your words too seriously & nearly killed himself working too hard. Thankfully, he came back home tired & beaten & you're going to comfort him with your love.

just a small, fluff fic. it isn't well written, but i tried. there's probably a toji fic like this out already out there too, so let me know & i can take this down. p.s, bad spelling & my grammar sucks...

As expected, after hearing the front door shut, you made your way out of your shared bedroom & into the living room, & there, manspreading on the couch was your worn-out husband, Toji. Drenched noir hair sticking to his clammy forehead & chest rising & falling way too fast to be possible. What the hell did he get himself into this time? You huffed, walking towards him & stood in between his sprawled-out legs. You grasped your hips & frowned, puckering your lips. 

"What in the world were you doing?" Your voice seemed to make him come alive because he responded quickly, opening his weary eyes & staring right at you. He only gave you a mischievous grin & it made you shake a little. You hoped he didn't go doing something stupid. "What's that look for?" 

"Nothing. Just wanted to make you mad." He sat up slowly with a grunt, getting comfortable on the couch, before resting his head back again. "I was at work, nothing to be concerned about." Your brow quirked at the word 'work'. 

He finally got himself a job after all these years? "Pretty laborious work, that's for sure, if you're coming home looking like you just ran a marathon." He laughed at that, shaking his head amusingly. 

"Don't I always look like this when I come home?" You shook your head, taking your hands off your hips & crossing them.

"Not looking like you're about to pass out, no." Toji hummed in approval, using the back of his hand to wipe the sweat off his forehead. You just watched him wipe away the rest of his perspiration with his shirt, feeling guilt arise in you. Now you really hoped he didn't go doing something stupid. Trying your best to not ogle at the muscular physique he was revealing by lifting his shirt, you leaned down towards his height, grasping his arm. "Hey, what did you really do today?" He gazed into your eyes, allowing you to marvel at the green hues of his orbs. They were haunting, but beautiful at the same time. 

He only smiled at your concern, pulling his shirt down, & took your chin in his grasp. "I was just at work, baby. Nothing to be concerned about, seriously." You furrowed your eyebrows & smacked him in his chest, causing him to jolt from your touch, the reaction you wanted.

"What kind of job, Toji?" Your words came out in a low growl & you were sure you saw a tiny bit of fear in his eyes when he heard it. 

"Come on, I just got back here. Can I at least just relax without all these questions being asked?" 

"Not until you tell me what you did today." He released a heavy sigh, shaking his head in disappointment. He was always irritated by your constant persistence, but at the same time, he found it hot. 

"I was just fixing & moving things around." He scoffed, looking away. "Damn, you're so stubborn." You only rolled your eyes at his words, taking a step back from him. 

"How did you get into that kind of work? I don't recall you ever studying in that field."

"Didn't have to study in that field. Someone gave me that job 'cause I asked." Toji finally stood up & walked past you & you got a good whiff of his cologne mixed with his sweat & it stank. You plugged your nose with your fingers, your face twisting up as you watched Toji head to the kitchen. You followed after him, still keeping your nose plugged & you saw him digging through the fridge for water. 

"Not-uh, get your funky ass out of here & into that shower, because you reek like burritos!" He froze at your words & you guessed it, he laughed at what you said, standing up with a water bottle in his hand. He closed the fridge & leaned against it, flipping the top off of his water with his thumb & began to guzzle it down. You watched his Adam's apple bob up & down & it gave you the butterflies. 

"What are you staring at?" You blinked, unplugging your nose after you realized your breath was catching up to you, & looked Toji in the eyes. You smiled nervously at his confused face, scratching your arm. "N-nothing. Anyways, seriously, get into the shower or you're not coming into bed tonight." Toji stared at you, examining how red your face was, & then only shrugged, finishing the rest of the bottle of water, before tossing it to the side.

"Guess I'm sleeping on the couch then." Your mouth fell open a little, as you were rendered speechless by his words. That was the first time in your entire relationship he just gave up & decided to sleep on the couch. Just because he refuses to take a freaking shower? 

"Wow...okay. Then forget all the cuddles, kisses, &—"

"You know what? Fuck it." He walked past you & upstairs he went towards what you assumed was the bathroom & you couldn't help but laugh. Sometimes, you enjoyed it when he was submissive. 

 ...

"Shit, careful babe, it freaking stings right there." You rolled your eyes & moved your hand away from the bruise on his bare back. For whatever reason that was there, you just know it was his fault. 

"Not my fault you dink around too much." A weary chuckle left his lips, making you shiver as you felt his breath brush against your neck. 

"Sorry, sweetheart. I'll try not to next time." You widened your eyes at the word 'next time'. You couldn't believe he thought he was going to go back to that job again. Never again. "Oh no, there's no 'next time'. You're officially staying a househusband from now on." 

"Alright, if that's what you want. You're going to be disappointed though when you get home." You raised a brow at his words, already knowing what he meant by that. "If it means coming home to your messes & you lazing around, then I'm just fine. As long as you don't take your behind out the door." You smiled, warmly. "I take the blame for our argument. I didn't mean to lash out at you about some petty job. I was harsh." Toji lifted his head from your chest so that he was face-to-face with you & you just stared at his eyes, a little confused. "What?"

"Do you mean that or are you just playing?" You frowned, looking away with a huff. 

"I mean it, babe. If I didn't, I wouldn't have said it. Now lay your head back down." Toji snickered, doing as you said. 

"You take things too seriously." You rolled your eyes, stroking his hair with your tender fingers.

"That didn't sound like a joke. Your humor sucks ass." You yelped when he smacked your hip & you couldn't stop the growl that left your throat. "Don't make me pull your hair out." 

"Sorry, babe. Couldn't help myself." You scoffed, pressing a kiss to his forehead. 

"Yeah, okay." You smiled, covering him with some of the blankets, as you watched his eyes falter a little. "You can go to sleep, I'll be right here," Toji smirked, wrapping his arms around your waist & burying his face in the crook of your neck. 

"I love you, sweetheart." He pressed a kiss to your neck, before closing his eyes & dozing off.

"I love you too, old man." You reached over & turned off the lamp, the whole room beginning to drown in darkness.

Thank you for reading! Have a Blessed Day & much love!!!! 🙏💕

[radiantmists]

Haven't finished my day one fic but here's my entry for @charles-rowland-week Day 2: Chorb!

I see a lot of cute orb-ghost content and love it, but for some reason when I sat down to write my brain went: that experience must be terrifying on both ends. Especially if it happens when they're pushed to the brink, a circumstance that otherwise leads to ghosts just... dissolving. Especially the first time.

So here's the first time!

***

Charles can't remember how he got here; he hasn't really got any idea where here is, except that the ground he's lying on is too hard and the light is so bright it burns his eyes whenever he opens them.

Though that might actually be something wrong with his eyes, judging by how much the rest of him hurts. He must have pissed someone off real bad, to be in this much pain, but he can't remember who or why. He hopes it was worth it.

"Charles," says a voice, a voice he knows. Edwin's here, and he sounds upset, and like he's trying to hide it. Charles manages to pry his eyes open for half a moment before the searing pain forces them shut again, but in that brief second he gets a glimpse of Edwin-- just his neck and the bottom of his face, the harsh press of his mouth.

Charles has seen that expression before, knows it comes along with wide eyes that give away what might look like frustration otherwise; this is the face Edwin makes when he's terrified.

Edwin shouldn't be terrified. Charles tries to reach for where he thinks he was, to comfort him, but just the idea of moving his arm reminds him of how much his shoulders hurt, and he half-screams before he can swallow the sound.

"Charles, just-- just lie still a moment," Edwin says beyond the roaring of his ears, and it shouldn't be a hard request with how much moving hurts, but Charles doesn't think he can bear to lie here like this much longer, the ground digging into him and the pain burning through his bones.

There's something wrong about that. Charles shouldn't be able to feel the ground, however hard it is; he doesn't actually have bones to burn.

He's dead, but he's still hurting, somehow, and that doesn't seem fair, does it? He'd sort of thought he'd escaped it, for a while. Maybe a little pain was the cost of being alive, but now-- unable to feel any good thing-- it just feels cruel.

He's so tired of hurting.

"Charles," Edwin's voice breaks through again, only this time the tone is different, somewhere beyond fear. "Charles, please, don't-- please just stay--"

His voice breaks on the plea. Because he is pleading, which is all kinds of wrong. Edwin doesn't beg when he's terrified; he goes silent and still like a hunted rabbit, which Charles hates with all his being but he hates this too. Edwin shouldn't beg. He shouldn't have to, not with Charles, who has embarked on the afterlife-long project of making him as happy as possible.

Not going anywhere, he tries to say, but his mouth doesn't want to obey him and instead he just sort of groans. He can't move his fingers-- he's not sure he has fingers, right now. They don't hurt anymore, but he can't really feel them either.

He remembers that: losing his fingers first, then his toes, then more and more. Edwin had been there then, too, strange and funny and unbelievably kind, and Charles hadn't had the chance to worry about his toes. Edwin had given him that gift, the gift of not being scared, and then he'd tried to run off like it was nothing, like after all that he'd thought Charles would just leave Edwin to the lingering terror in his eyes when he spoke of Hell.

That terror has never left completely, despite Charles' best efforts. He's started to think it never will, and the thought hurts, but at least he'd thought it was getting better; except now Edwin is terrified, and he's the one begging Charles to stay. He's still talking, somewhere beyond the pain, and though Charles can't make out the words, that heartbreaking tone is still there.

Charles isn't leaving him. He refuses. But he can't bear this either, the pain making it so hard to think, to remember. Edwin's voice is a lifeline, but it's getting more and more difficult to hear it, and he's not sure it's just the ringing anymore.

He's a ghost. He doesn't have ears to ring, not really, or bones to ache or eyes to burn when he opens them. Piece by piece, half on purpose and half unable to hold on, he lets it all slip away, until all that's left is the conviction: whatever happens, he wants to stay.

It feels a little like changing his hair, the way Edwin had taught him, just holding on to what he wants until that's what he is.

Mostly, though, it feels like dying.

***

He knows less and more, like this. He doesn't know where he is, and there's no feeling to help him guess, no pain or light or voice in the ears he doesn't have anymore. He doesn't know how he got here, doesn't know how long he's been here, doesn't even know who he is, really.

But he's not confused, because what he knows is this: he's dead, and it's not fucking fair, because he had so much left to do. He knows he was going to do better, that he was going to fix things, and now he'll never have the chance. Part of him seethes at that, and part of him just wants to take the hint and stop trying.

Except he also knows, somehow, that he does have another chance. That he's still here, even if he can't feel or taste or smell-- or even see or hear. That he can move things, somehow, change them, sometimes even fix them. He can solve crimes and save lives and on very good days he can make Edwin laugh.

He remembers that, the last time he'd made Edwin laugh-- just a little chuckle, really, but helplessly sincere, and the smile had stayed on his lips when he'd said, really, Charles--

The world unfolds around that voice speaking his name, first just memory into sound and then the awareness of ears to hear it, of a head to turn toward it and arms to push himself up, of something soft and forgiving under his palms, and of eyes he can open to see Edwin's face, remarkably close and blinking with surprise that, as Charles watches, collapses into relief.

"You came back," Edwin breathes. From this close, Charles can see the tears well in his eyes. Edwin, who he's seen burn half his hand off without even noticing, is crying over Charles.

It's not really a choice, to reach out with hands that still look a little misty and pull Edwin close. Edwin clutches him back, curling his hands in the back of Charles' shirt and tucking his chin over Charles's shoulder like if he just holds Charles close enough, he can hold him together.

Maybe he can. Charles curls his own fingers into Edwin's coat, breathes deep just to feel his ribs expand into Edwin's grip, ghost-cool but firm and real, real, real.

"I was afraid you were gone," Edwin says.

I was too, Charles doesn't say.

"Told you," he murmurs instead, "you're stuck with me."