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mysteria157 · 3 days ago

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Undone

nanami kento x black fem reader

wc- 2.8k

warnings- angst, heavy themes, mental health and healing, the fluff that nanami brings.

a/n: I have been feeling like poo these past few days and trying to find my voice in writing. So I created a little drabble that helped me feel better. hopefully, it does for others as well. happy reading

divider: @saradika | JJK Masterlist

He hasn’t heard from you in days.

Granted, that first date was 12 weeks ago, but Nanami is used to the string of texts between you that is consistently pinging—a feat that Nanami never thought to reach. He’s used to the late night phone calls, the FaceTimes that are meaningless because he just wants to look at you. But for the first time, you turned him down.

Three days ago, on the morning of a nice dinner he had planned, you called with a scratchy voice, “I’m just really tired today, but I’ll be shipshape in no time!” You had insisted.

With vigilance sewn into his body since the day he could remember, Nanami notices right away something is wrong. Maybe it was the distant crack of your words. Maybe it was the fact that you cleared your throat once, no—two times to make yourself sound as professional as possible. As if Nanami is an employer and not the man you’ve decided to let into his life.

Regardless, he was as polite as always. Content to change the subject and send you well wishes before hanging up. The meme texted to his phone five minutes later, sweetening whatever sour concoction had manifested in his belly from your phone call. But still…Nanami knows. So he waits.

He waits three days of agonizing silence before a maelstrom of worry finally claws its way to the surface of his pool of impassivity. He stops by the market first and grabs ingredients. There’s a soup recipe you love—a recipe he soaked up like a sponge as he hovered near you in your kitchen during your first date. He’ll make that.

On his way out of the market, his eyes catch a bouquet of Asian lilies. Sunset orange petals adorned with long dark stamen. He picks up a modest bouquet—something large enough to make you smile every time you see them, but not too much to make you sneeze from your allergies.

It’s 6:47 PM when Nanami’s shoes touch your welcome mat. Even as his eyes trace the tawny ‘Welcome!’ made of coir, he can feel the unease wafting from behind your closed door. Your spare key rests in his closed hand, the metal digging into his palm in a silent question. You insisted that it wasn’t too soon in the relationship for this, to have access to each other in this way. After all, finally opening his heart to love after keeping it locked behind the demands of work, Nanami wanted to take things slowly. But you had other plans—you always do. And now, Nanami is glad to have relented so quickly when you gave him the spare key two weeks ago.

You’re a tidy person, meticulous to a fault. So it’s easy for him to spot the littering of disarray. The curtains are drawn tight, casting your home into darkness. A trail of clothes starts from the door and trails to your room. There are dirty dishes in your sink—you hate going to bed with a messy kitchen. The air is permeable—a physical being that Nanami can see the particles as they float and scurry with his movements through your home.

He finds you in your room, a tornado of dirty clothes and empty takeout containers, three blankets deep, with only the top of your hair visible. The air is just as stale in here—heavy with the kind of silence that comes to life from too many hours alone with dark thoughts. Your phone lies on your nightstand, face-down, notifications from others probably neglected along with Nanami’s. He hates the sight, angry at whatever malevolent force that’s decided to torment you, and now he fights it.

The rustle of Nanami setting his things down makes you stir, the lump of covers oscillating with your movements as a flash of your melanin-rich skin pokes from the dark hole where you reside. Your eyes meet his—surprised, alarmed, and immediately angry.

“Get out,” you snap, your voice gravelly from disuse. Through the curtain of your textured hair, Nanami catches a sliver of your icy gaze, foggy with the heaviness he can smell in the room. He takes a step closer, and it’s a step too far. Your tired eyes widen with a simmering fury that makes Nanami think twice.

“Why can’t you listen?! You can’t be here…” you stop short, squeezing the covers around your already decaying form like a lifeline. “Not when I’m—like this.”

He takes another cautious step—your eyes narrow, a weak challenge—then another until he sits at the edge of your bed. The dip from his weight causes your feet to curve into the cavern, toes touching his thighs from beneath your covers.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

The still air seems to vibrate from your fury, dust motes zipping haphazardly as if being pulled back and forth by an invisible force.

“Call you? Call you?? So you could see this? So you could see how I can’t even—“A lump of confusion and rage dies in your throat, the sound gurgling like a sewage pipe. His hands clasp the blanket that covers your shoulders, pulling you up gently with no resistance. You want to smack his hands away, to yell at him to leave and never come back. Because you’re not ready for him to see you like this. Not yet.

But despite the bark of your bite, you’re exhausted—mentally and physically.

“I wanted to wait a few weeks,” you ramble, eyes turned away from him as you shiver from the cold air on your exposed upper half. You’re still wearing the same shirt from three days ago when you called Nanami to cancel; your eyes had already been filled with tears, your throat suffocating beneath torrential thoughts and negativity that springs to life when you least expect it.

“No one wants to see this so soon.”

“From that statement alone, I’m going to assume the men you dated before were below average in all respects.”

“Everyone expects some grandiose gesture to make all of…this go away. And it’s not that fucking simple.” You don’t acknowledge his assessment. Still rambling, still trying to push him away even as he stands. He pulls you up with him with a firm grip still on your shoulders, his care poking at your defenses with inquisitive fingers.

Your knees buckle, threatening to give out without the reassurance of his hold. Your rambling falls to the wayside, fading into the air around you as you finally comprehend your new position in front of him. Standing for the first time in days, the strength of his hands radiates warmth down to your toes. The room falls quiet, opening its ears to your uneven breathing and the smell of tears.

One beat. Two beats. Three.

“It seems you’re standing now,” he says simply, the low crooning timbre of his voice wafting over your face. You heave in a stuttering breath, suck down his air, and let it fill you from the inside with care you’ve neglected. Nanami doesn’t leave his words open for discussion. There is no question hidden in his matter-of-face statement. There is no undercurrent of judgment.

“A bath.”

“What? Kento—no. I don’t need—I don’t deserve—“ His hand slides from your shoulder to cup your cheek, silencing you with its warmth. You resist leaning into his touch, too embarrassed that he can see you like this—stinky, tired, so utterly crestfallen that you can barely function.

“I’ll draw you a bath. I’ll make you dinner. And once I’m sure you’re at least full and clean, then I’ll go. Until you’re ready for me again.”

Steam rises around you in the bathroom, carrying eucalyptus and lavender from the bath oils you like to indulge in on a terrible day like this one. You draw your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around your limbs to bury your head in the gap it creates. Your eyes catch the water droplets on your skin, hydrophobic and suspended in time before sliding into the bath water.

When you turn your head to the side, you catch your living room from the open door. He’s cleaned up—opened the curtains, picked up the laundry, and vacuumed the floors. One of your candles burns bright, the low whir of your washing machine sashaying through the apartment. All things you just haven’t had the energy to do.

It started off small, it always does. One thought—fleeting and infinitesimal—but still heavy with a nervousness that plants in your mind like a maggot, burrowing its way through the meat. Your symptoms are more anxious thoughts, more poor remarks of yourself, more he’s successful who are you kidding? More maybe they don’t like you, why can’t you see that? More once Kento sees this side of you, he’ll never want you again.

More, more, more even though those thoughts hold little evidence to prove true. But for you, those maggots burrow until there is nothing left of you but a hollow shell, a husk that has no choice and no energy but to lay down in bed and sleep the days away until the meat heals again.

Beneath the steam, you can spell the mix of thyme, peeled tomatoes, and garlic. The tomato soup you showed him how to make on your first date. He was inquisitive, watching silently, his eyes falling on yours too often to take good notes. Now, it’s another show of this man you’re growing to love, crafting something for you with his own hands, affection beneath the veil of reservation that he shows everyone else.

It’s too much for you. The tears come quietly, spilling down your cheeks and into the bath water, polluting the love that was used to create it.

You hear his footsteps, padded feet on your now clean floor as he walks into the bathroom and takes in the sight of you. You blink against the rush of embarrassment, too tired to wipe the tears away, too tired to hide a vulnerability you wanted to keep a lid on for awhile longer.

He walks to your sink, gathering product, a hair bottle, and a wide-toothed comb before coming back to you. He kneels beside the tub and rolls up his navy sleeves without ceremony, pinching off his glasses before he sets them on the floor. He’s soft but efficient in the way he rubs your bar soap on your loofah, getting it nice and sudsy. He’s relaxed but observant—his tie loosened but not completely off, his forearms flexing with quelled strength as he washes your back and shoulders, the slight furrow of concentration in his brows as he measures his next words.

“Strawberry and cream cheese danishes.”

“Hm?”

“If I eat one, I’ll want more. So I try to stay away when I can.” Nanami continues, washing the soap off your shoulders before he hands you the loofah. You take it without question, watching him disappear to sit behind you as you wash your limbs.

“After Yu…I would bury my sorrow in work. I worked and worked and worked until my boss forced me to take time off. It’s a sneaky sickness. It likes to watch over you and strike the very moment your guard is down.”

You hear the squeeze of your hair bottle behind you, your snarled strands soaking with rosemary-scented mist in his gentle fingers.

“It’s been years. But when it does hit, that darkness that seems to strangle me and tell me that I should have tried harder, that I should have protected him….I like to go across the street from my home and get a strawberry and cream cheese danish.”

You know Nanami has a sweet tooth. You’ve seen the way his eyes light up from the pies that you like to make, always bringing him a slice to work. You’ve seen the sidelong glance he gives strudel that steams behind glass display cases at the bakery he takes you to. But to imagine him leaving his apartment in the dead of night, wrinkled clothes and bags beneath his eyes, not showered in days—paying for a danish…you hitch a breath, a chuckle squeaking and dying in your throat with a painful lurch.

“Why are you laughing?” He admonishes. You can practically feel the lifted brow and gentle smile on your back. Your skin tingles with the movement of his fingers as he works them through your hair, detangling with rosemary and leave-in conditioner

“Do you buy the three-pack?”

Silence. A pause in your hair before baby hairs flutter from the puff of air he shoots out. You bite your lip to keep the dry smile from forming.

“No,” he lies, playfully.

The heaviness in the air gives way to a light current of brightness from your fleeting smile, from the smell of the tub, and your hair now detangled and loose before shrinkage claims it.

“I’m not sure what’s compelled you to think there’s a proper time to tell me that your thoughts grow dark at random moments in your life. Now, two months from now, it doesn’t matter. I love you.”

The declaration wraps around you, sliding down your ajar mouth and curdling in your lungs with certainty, taking root in the muscle for the foreseeable future.

“And if it is alright,” he continues, carding his fingers through your hair to plait it into a single braid. “I would like to love every part of you. Even the parts you try to hide. The parts that make you think that you’re not good enough—for me, or your friends, or anyone else. If anything, being able to be here, right now, is a privilege I’ll cherish.”

When the fresh tears spill over again, they no longer taint the water you soak in. They cleanse, collecting and filtering away the depression and anxiety that claims so much of your life when you least expect it.

After, when you’re clean and smelling of Shea butter that Nanami slathered you in, you sink into your now clutter-free sofa. The exhaustion settles on your bones in a different way. Well earned after a long battle instead of invasive and unasked for.

Your eyes rest on the lovely bouquet of Asian lilies on your coffee table, fresh with stems cut, curling toward you with open petals so you can see the beauty inside. The gesture fills you with more of that feeling, of love that you never imagined to come so soon with a man like him.

Nanami walks around the sofa, a tray that he sets in front of you carrying his own rendition of your tomato soup, toasted sourdough grilled cheese, and a tall glass of water.

“Extra basil?” You ask, lips wobbly around a smile as you take in another form of his adoration that you’ll have forever if he allows it.

“Extra basil.”

When he returns with his own tray, his hair falling over his eyes in a heap of hard work, he offers you a look. A measured look that’s filled with everything he wants to give, an excitement in his warm brown eyes that you can’t wait to see more of. But it’s shrouded in a gentle reservation with gaps only visible to you. Soft smiles for you. Loving touches for you. A beacon in storms that brew seemingly out of nowhere just for you.

He leans forward and brushes his lips against your forehead, a safe place where he can take some part of you while you heal. But you’d like more. So you tilt your head for him, soaking the warmth from his lips that press against yours softly.

Suddenly, your worries, your dark thoughts, your misery that you let keep you beneath your blankets for days all smoothed over from his touch. Satiated until those maggots in your mind wiggle to life again when they’re hungry.

“Marcus didn’t give a rose to Janine.” He says casually as he draws back to his side and turns on the TV, nonchalant as if he didn’t just spend the evening putting you back together with gentle hands and quiet love.

You relax into his side, looking at his arm with teary eyes as he rests it on the couch behind you, offering a blanket of comfort and safety that you haven’t had in a long time.

“Gojo spoiled it,” Nanami continues, grumbling and annoyed at the two syllables of Gojo’s name touching his tongue. He blows at his spoon of soup, eyes locked on the screen, his sharp features colored with flickering blues and reds.

He notices your stillness—of course, he notices—and offers you another kiss on your cheek before turning back to the show.

“I’ll steal his kikufuku as punishment,” you offer, arm shaking with the gentle chuckle he gives in response.

The soup steams in your hands, your hair soft and braided, your body worshiped and clean, Nanami’s heartbeat permeable beneath his clothes as you sink into him and sip your delicious soup.

For the first time in years, you know when the world feels heavy, he’ll be able to lift that weight off of you before it buries you away.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento #jjk x reader #kento nanami #nanami kento x reader #jjk fanfic #drabble #mysteria writes #black reader #nanami kento x black fem reader #angst #fluff #jjk angst #jjk fluff #mental healing #jujutsu kaisen nanami kento #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento x you

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moonstruckme · 3 days ago

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Hi lovie a lil request if u pls! I would love to see Sirius (but could also be down with one of the other boys if ur not feeling him) with a gf who has a migraine and just him doting on her

alternatively could also do it's like early in the relationship and she tries to hide it from him?

Thanks for requesting!

cw: modern au, migraine

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 997 words

You decide to text Sirius rather than braving the lights and sounds of the living room. You keep your phone brightness on low, clicking your screen off as soon as it’s sent.

Do you have any painkillers I could use?

You feel guilty for commandeering Sirius’ bedroom like this. You’re supposed to be cooking dinner together, but when you came home with the groceries you’d asked meekly if he’d mind if you napped for a while. He offered to make it himself so it’ll be ready when you get up. You sort of dread when that will be. You know you’d feel better back at your own place, but you don’t trust yourself to drive like this, with pain taking all your concentration and spots and lines flashing across your vision, so instead you’re spoiling the evening you and Sirius had planned together. Now you’re asking him to wait on you, too.

Sirius doesn’t respond to your text, but you hear him moving. The soft thump of footsteps coming down the hall and the quiet sshk of a drawer coming open.

“Just a nap, huh?” he murmurs as he comes into the bedroom. He sits by your knees on the bed, shaking a couple of pills into his hand. “Does something hurt, lovely?”

“Yeah,” you manage a hoarse whisper as he passes you the pills and the glass of water he’s brought you. “Sorry. My head.”

“I thought something might be wrong,” he admits, keeping his voice low. “You got awfully quiet earlier. Why didn’t you say?”

You set the glass on his nightstand after downing the pills. Cover your eyes with the hand cool with condensation. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to ruin our night.”

Sirius tuts softly. “Don’t worry about that.” His hand finds your forehead, first feeling for a fever and then brushing a few pieces of hair back from your eyes, but he stops when your face tightens. “It’s quite bad?”

You make a low humming sound. “It’s a migraine. I get them, sometimes.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Sirius takes his hand away from you, though by the pain in his voice it costs him to do it. “I’m sorry. What can I do?”

“I just need to lie with it for a bit. Hopefully it’ll calm down. I have things to help at home, but I don’t think I can make it there right now.”

“What sort of things?”

You tell him, admittedly somewhat short in your speech. Sirius doesn’t seem to mind. He leaves you to rest afterwards, and you hardly hear him again until nearly an hour later. You think dinner has to have long since been ready, but when Sirius comes back into his bedroom it’s not with food.

You watch through slitted eyes as he creeps into the corner, plugging in a machine that starts billowing steam up into the room. He fiddles with it for a moment, and soon you’re aware of a familiar scent upon the air, floral and relaxing.

“Did you get that from my place?”

Sirius jumps, pressing a hand to his chest as he turns around. “Fuck, babe, I thought you were sleeping. No, I didn’t want to ask you to give me your key.”

You look at the essential oil diffuser. “Huh. Looks just like mine.”

“Well, good. Hopefully it’ll work just as well, then.” Sirius stands, typing something into his phone. “Do you think those binaural beats things will help right now, or will they keep you from falling asleep?”

“M’not falling asleep anyway,” you mumble half bitterly, but your boyfriend only nods. He connects his phone to a small speaker and sets it by the bed. “Tell me you didn’t go buy a diffuser?”

Sirius looks at you, raising an eyebrow as a low, soothing thrum starts to emanate from the speaker on the nightstand. “Not sure what you want me to say then. Would you have rather I broke into your place to get one?”

“Sirius.” Your voice drops to a whisper. “You didn’t have to. That’s so sweet.”

“Oh.” He brightens. “Good then. There’s a weighted mask in the freezer, too, by the way. Thought I’d give it a minute to chill first.”

You’re starting to feel slightly teary, which isn’t really what you want during a migraine. “That’s really kind of you.”

“Don’t mention it. Couldn’t have the world's loveliest girl suffering here in my own home, could I?” He smiles softly, looking like he’s going to reach for your face again before he stops himself.

“You can touch me,” you say quietly.

Sirius’ brows twitch together. “Yeah? Are you sure?”

“Mhm. I feel a bit better than before.”

“Could I kiss you as well?”

You can’t stop your lips from curving, just a little. “Yeah.”

Sirius smiles, too, pressing his lips gently to yours. He doesn’t stop there. “Better than before doesn’t seem quite well enough,” he murmurs as his affections grace your cheek, your closed eyelid, the space between your brows, “but we’ll get you there soon, I think. Remus sometimes has migraines, too. I called him and he said a massage might help, if it suits you. Just while your mask is getting cold.”

“Yeah?” you ask on a breath. “I’ve never tried that.”

“Do you wanna?”

You nod, and he gets you to roll onto your front, thumbs finding the tight muscles of your neck. It’s not a skillful massage, but Sirius is a quick learner, and soon you find the tension from your face to your shoulders relaxing from his ministrations. The air smells of lavender, the room pulses with a low, resounding hum, and Sirius’ touch bleeds affection into your skin.

“Thank you for doing this,” you mumble, words slurred with relaxation.

“Don’t know what you’re thanking me for,” he hums back. “I told you, I have the world’s loveliest girl right here in my own home. Great power comes with great responsibility and all that, right?”

You’re too enamored to even scoff.

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koji-haru · 2 days ago

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Intertwined

[For @inubaki as thanks for this beautiful drawing! And also to cheer you up, as well as everyone else. I know a lot of us were distraught with the results, so hopefully this would ease some of the sadness away even by just a tiny bit.]

“Man, your place is so gloomy,” Adam complained while he laid languidly on the couch just behind Lucifer, his much too large wings draped over the furniture reaching the floor. “It’s just red everywhere.”

Lucifer simply hummed in response, much too busy trying to read reports and proposals from his subjects to even entertain one of the first man’s childish complaints. Besides, he liked red.

The acid rain pitter pattered against the window, the sounds – a soothing rhythm that made the monotony of his work become a bit more bearable as he scanned over the mindless drivel of some noble’s proposal. This was their 13th attempt at getting their proposal approved, apparently the first 12 times he had to reject them were not a clear enough message. Lucifer sighed, the tedious work draining all of the energy he had as he rejected the proposal once more. He gave the paper one more look before placing it on top of a sizable stack of papers before turning to his right where an even taller stack of unread papers stood, promising more tedium to come. All benefits of being the king of pride. Lucifer turned his eyes towards the window, speckled with raindrops that sizzled into the air almost as soon as they landed. Pride’s already dark red sky looked even gloomier with thick grey clouds blanketing the city as it rained down flesh burning acid onto its population, their pained screams barely audible from where Lucifer sat.

He slouched down his seat, his body feeling like liquid as a deep sigh escaped his lips. For once, he might agree with Adam’s complaints, his place did look rather gloomy, but was he bothered to redecorate? No, not really. Lately, he hadn’t been bothered to do much really, the building stack of papers on his desk a glaring proof of that. He groaned as he dragged his clawed hands down his face; he could feel a certain numbness from within him start to creep out again. Maybe he could doze off for a few minutes, reset his mind a bit, that might help; the sounds of rain against the window were almost like lullabies inviting him for a quick nap. He felt his eyelids get heavier, his vision slowly fading to black until he felt soft hands on his head, tugging at the strands of hair on the sides of his head.

“W-wha..?” He blinked his eyes open a few times, willing the sleepiness away as he tried to sit back up and look at what was happening, his hands feeling around his hair.

“Just sit still.” Adam lightly smacked his hand away. “You’re going to ruin it.”

“What are you doing,” asked Lucifer as he felt another light tug at his hair and something else being entangled with it. He tried to feel around his hair again, a little more careful this time; he felt something soft and silky with a little bony stiffness to it braided alongside his hair. “Are you…braiding feathers into my hair?”

“I don’t have flowers right now, so this will do,” replied Adam, his attempt at concentrating evident in the tone of his voice. He tugged at another lock of soft blonde hair, intertwining his golden feathers into it in a way that framed and highlighted Lucifer’s face, like a ring of divine light proudly presenting his sweet charm.

A small smile formed on Lucifer’s lips as he relaxed back onto his seat, enjoying the soft rhythmic pull on his hair, the gentle brushing of fingers against his scalp; it was rather soothing, making his body feel warm and fuzzy all over as nostalgia slowly emerged from his memories of a distant past.

“Adam, what are you doing here?,” asked Lucifer as he entered the damp cave where he found the first man crouched in a corner, his legs pulled close to his chest as he covered his ears with his hands.

Adam hesitantly looked up, hands away from his ears for a brief moment as he tried to seek comfort from his angel. “L-Luci…”

Then a bright flash of light sparked across the dark sky before being quickly followed by a deafening rumble that rang throughout the garden. Adam quickly shut his eyes and covered his ears again as he shrunk back into himself, his entire body trembling with newfound fear at the terrifying phenomena that was happening outside. He was terrified and Lilith was nowhere to be found, so he simply had to endure God’s wrath alone, for what else could those sounds be other than God’s stern voice? Another bright light flashed just outside the cave and Adam hugged himself tighter as another loud roar echoed from the sky.

Lucifer quickly made his way to the scared human, wrapping his soft wings around them both. “There there, I’m here now,” he said, his voice as tender as the first light of the day.

“D-did I do something wrong?,” Adam asked with a trembling voice, his eyes pricked with tears ready to spill. “Is God mad at me?”

“No. Nono, our Father could never be mad at you, you did nothing wrong.” Lucifer pulled Adam to his chest, holding him with all the love in the new born world. “I know it can be scary, but it’s just another way the garden waters itself so that life may continue to flourish.”

A low rumble sounded outside and Adam couldn’t help but hug the angel even tighter. “It’s scary. Please stay with me.”

“Of course,” Lucifer smiled. “I’ll stay as long as you need me to.” He patted the first man’s head, the messy brown hair feeling softer than fresh cotton, smoother than silk. And there, the two sat together in comfortable silence, their shared warmth offsetting the chill that the storm brought along with it, the beating of their hearts a rhythm that grounded them together fading the rumbling of the sky into the background.

Lucifer played with Adam’s hair, separating his hair into individual locks before weaving one of his feathers with it into a braid that trailed around his beautiful face, like framing a precious piece of art.

“Luci..?” Adam looked up, and it was as if the sun itself had kissed him with its warming rays.

“I can’t always be in the garden with you,” Lucifer admitted. “So, I’m intertwining a part of myself with you. That way, I’ll always be with you,” he smiled as he tilted Adam’s chin up with gentle fingers. “I think red suits you,” he whispered before leaning down. The moment the two shared forever a secret enshrouded in beautiful feathers of red and white.

“Done!,” Adam declared as he finally finished adorning Lucifer’s hair with his feathers before spinning Lucifer’s chair to face him. Hands on his hips, he eyed his work up and down, a proud glint in his eyes. In front of him, sat Lucifer with shining gold feathers framing his delicate face. “Now you’re actually the Morningstar!”

Lucifer quickly created a small mirror in his hand, turning its shiny surface towards him, curious of what he looked like. And just as Adam had claimed, the image that the mirror reflected back at him truly was the Morningstar, bright and brilliant as it brought a dazzling light everywhere he went; pushing the gloominess of the room and within himself away and back into the shadows.

“I think gold suits you,” Adam blurted out before covering his mouth and turning his face away, a faint golden hue visible on his ears. “To go along with the red, I mean.”

Lucifer sat there, stunned, for a good few seconds before quickly regaining himself. A grin crept up his lips as he pulled Adam down towards him, causing him to kneel on the floor as Lucifer pulled his face close to his chest.

“W-what the fuck..!” Adam pushed and struggled against Lucifer’s hold, the golden flush on his face glowing even brighter now.

“Just sit still, will you?” Lucifer held both of Adam’s hands, pinning them down onto his lap. “I’m just going to braid your hair too. Unless you’re thinking of something?,” he asked, a teasing smile playing across his lips.

The wings behind Adam’s back puffed up in flustered anger as he pushed himself away from Lucifer, with the devil easily letting his hands go as he did. “No way!!,” he yelled out, though he ended up leaning his back on Lucifer’s legs anyway. He let out a loud huff as he crossed his arms while also shifting a little on the floor to get as comfortable as possible.

“Well?,” he asked in mock irritation. “I thought you were going to braid my hair?”

Lucifer looked down at Adam sitting on the floor in front him, a sigh escaping his lips in pretend exhaustion. “You used to be so much cuter.”

“Fuck you,” grumbled out Adam.

“Hmm, maybe after this,” Lucifer replied as he got to working on Adam’s hair.

A shoe thrown backwards to his face was the quick response he got.

---

[Also, sorry for lying about the sweetness in the last post @twost3ps, it will unfortunately happen again 😇]

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #adamsapple #lucifer x adam #🍎🎸#actually short and sweet this time :)

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1tsstargaze59 · 2 days ago

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Anxifear College AU Chapter 3🧡💜

I still have no idea for a name for the fic- ILL THINK OF ONE I PROMISE ^^""""

Prepare to meet all the other emotions! Including Shame! 👀 Guess in the comments who's who, cuz I (hopefully) made it obvious enough XD /Mild family angst

Chapter 3 : Conversations

Anna-lee happily skipped on over to her department's teacher's lounge. Entering the room, she approached her supervisor, a woman with a small but thick build, thin rim round glasses, and a blue sweater. She placed the hair from her short black bob behind her right ear and turned to face her junior :

"He gave you a bouquet of lavender?" questioned Saddie, a little perplexed.

"Ya! Do you know where I could put them? I wasn't exactly prepared with a vase- it's not every day someone gifts you flowers!" Anne laughed nervously.

"He gave you flowers! Anne, that's wonderful. What's his name again?"

"Fred," affirmed Anne, "he's a good friend. He got sick and couldn't come in to work today so he- send me flowers?" She laughed again, "He's so funny, I wonder how he comes up with these gags!"

Saddie leaned in, analyzing the look in Anna's eyes, "Has he been... complimenting you?"

"Huh? Ya, why?"

"Let me see that note," asked Saddie, opening her hand for Anne to pass over the little sheet of paper. After carefully reading it, her eyes opened wide, and she blurted out, "Anna-Lee, he's been flirting with you!"

"What???" Enid yelled back at her, "Are you telling me my brother is flirting with my teacher???"

"Don't say it like that! You make it sound like it's a bad thing," Daphne replied, checking herself out on her phone, "They're both teachers. What's the harm? I think they're cute; I like teasing M. Frederick about it, right Vivi?" Her sister smiled and nodded furiously as she gobbled down her lunch.

Enid sighed deeply, wiping her long face with her hand, her dark eyeshadow mysteriously left intact.

"I can't believe it; how did I not notice? I mean, looking back, it's so obvious!" Anna paced around the office, the sound of her shoes tapping against the wooden floor followed by the sound of a clean slap between her hand and her forehead, "I feel so stupid-"

"Don't be so hard on yourself, sweetie," Saddie reassured her as she sat back down on her chair, "You don't need an excuse to misinterpret situations."

"Misinterpret? Who the heck misinterprets giving someone FLOWERS???" She dropped all her weight into her chair, causing it to roll back slowly.

She chuckled, "Why are you so upset? Isn't this good news?"

"Good news? This is TERRIFYING news! I've never had someone hit on me before!" She brought her hands to her cheeks and squeezed her face.

"Never?"

"Well, yes, but mostly from people I've been in a relationship with, and even then, I was the one who initiated my past relationships! I was NOT prepared for THIS; how could this happen to me? Well, I honestly didn't even consider this was a possibility- but still!"

"You're overthinking things dear, is there something now that's troubling you?"

"Well, it could get really awkward for me since I still, O tu sais, LIVE WITH HIM?? Could you IMAGINE he takes her home and it's just like 'oh, hi! It's me, your HISTORY TEACHER'!!!" The yelling knocked the air out of Enid's lungs, her head dropped to the table as soon as her rant was over.

"OK, that's fair, that does sound really awkward," Daphne responded, opening her setting powder container, "is that all you're worried about, or?"

"That's it? You're acting too calm about this, even for my liking," she sighed again, she who does not tend to care about things, now yelling at her best friend, "I'm thankful for my brother, but I am NOT playing third wheel to any of his romances; I'm not his child."

"I'm sorry, it's just hard to take you seriously when I already got a solution planned!" She smiled, a perfect white smile, before closing her makeup container.

Her droopy eyes peaked up with a glimmer of hope, "You do?"

"I propose we go see my husband. He's a terribly shy guy, I'm sure he has some wise words for you. Besides, the library is a quiet, pensive place; it'll help clear your mind dear," Saddie leaned over her desk to pat Anna-Lee's hand.

Anne smiled meekly.

●●●

"Hey Freddie! Welcome back; you feeling better?" greeted Joy, sitting at the teacher's lounge table of the math department.

"He's fine! He had me deliver flowers to little miss carrot top!" Angrily yelled Antonio from behind his desk.

"You-" she gasped dramatically, "You had Anthony do you a FAVOR!? That's a new one!" She laughed hysterically.

Fred sat beside her, a smug grin plastered on his face, "Hey, miracles can happen. Thanks, Anthony. I owe you one!"

"You owe me 40 bucks!"

They laughed at their elder's frustration.

"So~ how's the courting going?"

"Joy, you know I hate it when-"

"Ok, I'm sorry, you're right. Let me try that again : romance isn't really my thing, but I sure do like watching it go down, so spill!"

"Well, I don't wanna push any further than I already have... I think I've made my intentions clear, and I fear if I flirt anymore, it'll creep her out..."

"Oh, thank the lord," sighed Anthony in relief.

"Anthony!" she yelled at him.

“It's ok Joy, he doesn’t mean it that way.”

“Yes, this childish behavior is simply a pain to watch,” he grumbled, frustratedly tapping away at his keyboard, ”I, for one, think he should be upfront about how he feels.”

Joy stared at Antonio with her mouth agape, “I… agree! You should keep being honest and clear about your feelings.”

“Thank you.”

“About what?” she whispered.

“For caring about me.”

“Of course sweetie,” Saddie reassured her.

She took Anna into the library and behind the counter, where she sat her down to speak with a tall older man. He was rounded and soft in appearance, betraying his size. He seemed like a gentle giant. His pink cheeks matched well with his pink cardigan. Anna felt a weight lift off her chest when in their presence.

“Anna, this is Emmet; my husband,” Saddie clarified, squeezing his right hand, “Barry, this is Anna-lee, she’s a friend of mine from the History department.”

Emmet waved a small shy hand at Anna. It made her smile. She explained to him everything that’s happened so far; her uncertainty about her feelings towards Fred. He listened to every word without a peep, his eyes trying to maintain eye contact, but always darting back to Saddie, his face flushing with more pink. When she was done, he looked pensive, staring down at the table. Then, he looked up, a glimmer sparkling in his eyes.

“What about the chess club?” asked Joy, “Did you think of inviting her?”

“The chess club?” Fred lifted his finger up to his chin, passing near the door, “No... I talked to her about it, though; I thought that if she wanted to see me more often, she’d take initiative, you know?”

“That’s fair,” she remarked, “Dead end there then.”

“Book delivery,” a small raspy voice shot Fred from behind. He yelped like a young girl and jumped forward, looking behind him to find the slim dark figure of a young woman, “For the math department?”

Joy laughed, “Shay! Be careful; you trying to give Fred a heart attack?”

Taking deep breaths, he took the pen and clipboard Shay had in her hands and signed off on the delivery, shivering from head to toe.

“Thank you,” said the young lady, taking her items back, “and sorry for scaring you, M. Fitzgerald.”

“It’s… ok! I’m very jumpy anyway, dear,” his shivering making it hard to hold onto this many heavy books, “and thank you for your service!”

After waving goodbye with a timid smile, Shay rolled her cart down the hall to the elevator, down to the ground floor and into the library. She went behind the counter and placed her clipboard back onto it’s hook on the wall and left to find her uncle, her expression dulled. She found him sitting at a table, accompanied by her aunt and a strange woman. Her ginger locks tied up in an unusual, incomprehensible manner; she had giant round glasses and a remarkable overbite. At first, she stayed out of the conversation, listening in curiously, as she had done with the two math teachers before, as she had done for too many conversations before. Then, she understood who the lady was.

“Ok, but how do I spend more time with him? I’m so busy, I practically spend all my time in between work and home!”

“What about the chess club?” Shay whispered behind them; making the lady jump in her seat. Her aunt and uncle turned to her, and Saddie smiled.

“Anna-lee, this is Shay.”

●●●

The leaflet Daphne had handed her had a bold red title : Seeking roommates? Reach out! Enid made a sour face and looked up at her once more.

"What do you say? This could solve a lot of our issues, you living with your brother, me paying the whole rent; we can kill two birds with one stone!"

"Aren't you rooming with your sister? No offense, Vivi," she clarified.

Vivienne shook her head in response, "None taken. I wanted to prove I can room on my own like Daph, despite her insistence on rooming together."

"Ugh!" Daphne rolled her eyes, "Quit acting all grown-up, you're 18! Anyway, as you can see, I got rejected!" She turned to her sister, vindictive, and smiled painfully, "So I got an open spot in my apartment. What do you say?"

"... I'll think about it; thank you for the offer," she said with a hoarse tone.

From then on, the leaflet was placed in her pocket. During her next class, it rolled around. On her way home, it crumpled in on itself. Once Enid walked into their condo and placed her hand in her pocket, she found it had become a shriveled mess. She opened it carefully : Seeking roommates? Reach out! The bold red lettering was a wet slap to the face. She threw it out the door furiously, but not before her brother could catch it.

“Hey! Lâche ça tout de suite, it’s not yours!” she yelled at him.

“Woh hey, calm down, Ellie; I thought you knew better than to litter,” Fred crossed the doorstep into their apartment and removed his shoes, “and mine? Of course not, but it’s not yours either since I just saw you throw it away,” he handed the piece of paper over to her.

Enid froze for a while, staring at the paper with distress. Fred looked at her before directing his gaze towards the leaflet, “... Do you.. want to leave?”

“I…” she didn’t know what to say.

He swallowed, “You don’t have to stay, Ellie, I’d never force you; you know that, right?”

“But, what about my studies?”

“I’d still help you pay for them.”

“Still?”

“Yes, really… I want what’s best for you.”

Her eyes looked up at him; he was sincere. He meant every word, but the shine in his eyes... Enid felt guilty, “I want to be with her, Fred, mais… I don’t want you to be sad, because of me.”

“I won’t be; I’ll be sad, but I'd never blame you. You deserve to choose what you want to do in life.”

Enid’s blank stare was highlighted by a single teardrop, streaking down her cheek. He extended his hand to wipe it off and forced a smile on his face, “If you need to go Ellie, don’t be scared. I will remain the annoying thorn on your side forever; we’re family, remember?” He pulled her into an embrace.

Ellie chuckled and hugged him back, feeling his arms tremble, “Ya… I know home isn’t a place.”

Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6

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Hey! Thanks for reading! I know that last scene probably left you with many questions, so I’ll be happy to answer the general ones, since I know I don’t want to address them in this fic:

Fred and Enid have a complicated family history, but mainly know that they were separated, Enid was placed in the child care system since her birth. Recently, Fred lost their mother to an illness. She admitted to Fred that he had a sister on her deathbed, and this helped him cope with her passing. He felt less lonely knowing he still had a living family member, and he reconnected with her right before she left child protective services on her 18th birthday. They have lived together ever since. Enid is currently 25, do the math XD Damn that story is sad- Sorry guys, I like complicated relationships it seems XD I wanted to include this scene though, as it demonstrates their bond and how important it is for Fred to find company for himself, to rebuild that family bond he feels like is lacking in his life. If there are any other questions about any other character, send an ask my way! I’ll be happy to answer! ^^ Know that we won’t be hearing much about them from this point onward; they are mostly background characters.