#but aaaa it got away from me

[sinnabee]

You do moons ass Mondays right

so do suns ass Sundays

your wish is my command, anon

everyone say hello to sun ass sunday. but of course, as the rule goes... suns out? guns out. >:3c

i will be barring the castle doors and fortifying my defenses in preparation for the uprising, but no, i am not sorry for this

[toriliashine]

need mastermind kokichi and gonta going mwah mwah

the angel/demon theming working together perfectly, matching the mask/reveal scene in chapter 4 only to reveal they were working together the whole time

the mind games, the clashing personalities and bodies yet melding perfectly together, in despair and in love, it's like

they were made for each other...

//on to notes like

**i am now also BEGGING YALL to read the tags

i'm still working on the designs but i know i have some drafts here hmm

>for their mastermind fits, i'm thinking gonta being all white , with his hair being more curled and really framing his face for that angelic round-faced look, plus his ahoge making a little halo to really top it off. one eye of his glasses are red for monokuma. with a black choker . nice fancy 3 piece suit that really accentuate his muscles, giving the image that he's not someone to mess with despite his angelic demeanor and damn, he looks good in it too plus an all white , n gold/red accented overcoat! letting the boy be dramatic and fancy and beautiful 2k24.

*more notes at bottom

kokichi's fit is a sleek, sharp black. but still comfortable to move and store things in. He can still be silly and dramatic in it but It's be really cool for his new fit to be purposefully cold, controlled and intimidating , a good contrast from his usual clownness to really grab their attention. //need to explain this one to be an 'oh! he was doing that to distract us' but more... oomf . hm He has a a white glove, and a black one to draw more attention to the former. black captain hat with devil horns, or just the horns? hm. plus the black cape for the demon bat silhouette. inside is one of those cool n kinda slutty but loose all black formal fits, like (ahhh i need to get pack into drawing or outfit scrapbooking but imagine with me)

**** gonta's black choker and kokichi's white gloves is supposed to a) show their connection via the colours lol. but also represent a dog on a leash deal. however gonta can take off and on the choker when he pleases, showing his willingness and equal choice in this operation despite it seeming like ouma has the upper hand [plus feeding into the 'ouma is controlling him!' schtick their classmates got going on, thus making them suspect him less and not believe him and kokichi are purposefully working together! boom baby

also, the kink factor. hehe

**** i do wonder if i should cave and make them both wear chokers matching the other's colour though. i like chokers , and colour symbolism

[forceblinded]

@alootus / some meme i can't find anymore 🥴: [ 𝐒𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖 ] ― sender hears receiver crying and approaches comfort them

She can't recall when last she shed any tears over this man, or the personalised torture he's exposed her to. In truth, she's begun thinking herself insensitive to it; numb to the lashes of his whip. It was the only way to shoulder the constant threat not only her life is under, but the precious few loved ones she has left.

And despite that, she simmers in the guilt she feels for putting those very same people in danger. Her own life she holds in low regard these days — she's expendable and needs no protection, but her family? Her parents, her brother, the innocents in the equation they've been inserted into? She's responsible for the repercussions they might suffer for her refusal to hand herself over to Arkken.

So she considers it for the first time, really considers it. Keldra already paid for her dogged determination with her life, and that's one person too many in Rein's eyes already. She can't push herself to ponder the matter with more feeling — at least not any feeling other than frustration, anger, even. If she does that, she'll never recover from it. She knows that much, at least.

But the alternative isn't much better. She's watching herself slide down a slippery slope now, leaning into the perception that it's solely injustice she's found in this life of late, and for what? What purpose does it serve, refusing to 'stoop to his level' — refusing to take the fight to him, to end it once and for all, one way or another ( either by letting the arms of her ire sweep her away at the expense of his life and her dedication to being good, or by losing that fight, and surrendering to his will )?

The Jedi mires in her doubt for minutes, or perhaps even hours — long enough to dissolve her resolution to never again shed a single tear for him and the hurt he's dealt her. She thinks of her demise, whether in the literal or figurative sense, for the price she'll have had to pay for it. No matter which path she takes, her current form of stasis is unviable; she must move in some direction and end his reign of terror over her once and for all.

Rein is sat there, kneeling along the edge from the waterfall-dotted outcrop overlooking the spaceport. She thought listening to the ships coming in and departing again would provide her with some tranquillity by means of distraction, but she's had no such fortune.

Instead, in the pit of unfiltered emotion where her repose should sit, she finds only more of the former — and notwithstanding her resolve to abolish her sorrow especially, it's precisely that which returns with a vengeance. It washes over her like a wave across the shore at high tide, and in this moment, where she thinks herself alone, she sheds a tear.

And then another, another, another — and then a sob, try as she might to mute it.

She recognises the depth of her downward spiral only once a hand on her shoulder startles her out of it abruptly. Her left forearm hastily dries her eyes and her unfocussed gaze instantly falls from the source of said touch — jarring as it is. She feels a fool for appearing this way in front of the senator of all people. Was she not meant to be the picture of composure, circumstances be damned?

Self-chastisement aside, there is one thing Rein can't deny: she welcomes the approach, the broaching of her otherwise carefully guarded personal space. So she doesn't shirk the subtle squeeze to her shoulder; doesn't even try to get up. She even feels an urge to lean in towards it, somehow, but she remains still instead, kneeling still. Her eyes shut as she straightens her posture, facing the spaceport far below and ahead of her. ❛  I'm sorry, senator. I didn't think you'd find me here. I just ... needed a moment. A long one, I suppose.  ❜

[bookshelfpassageway]

me, rereading Hunters Unlucky: wow it's so cool these are clearly animals and different from us and could not even comprehend us

me, on my furry hell spiral: draw redwall au anthro ferryshaft i wanna see Coden and Arcove fight with swords and cool cloaks and crowns

[a-pigeons-soliloquy]

Eurovision 2023 has begun and I’m too hyped to go to bed so now I’m thinking about a hannibal eurovision au!!!

like for hannibal we have 2 main possibilities:

hannibal and his weird suits and harpsichord representing lithuania (or maybe even italy) - lyricless acts aren’t allowed so I think he’d sing lowly in that slightly monotonous but really captivating way some people do and he’d be one of the favourite acts because his voice is really hot lol (he sings in lithuanian/italian of course)

hannibal as the perfect charming well-dressed host (alana and chilton as co-hosts?? both hannibal and alana being visibly repelled by chilton, who is horribly cheesy and trying way too hard, and also trying desperately and very not smoothly to promote his new single despite being a washed up talent show one hit wonder who was last relevant in like. 2008 lol. by the end of the night chilton has ‘unfortunately suffered an accident’ and is no longer able to host) (which country is this and if it’s lithuania why are alana and chilton hosts? shh)

also host!hannibal has a thing for performer!will and tries his best not to let it show because he’s kind of supposed to be impartial to the acts but he’s terrible at hiding it and all the commentators and the internet are laughing at him for the whole event

for will it’s a little harder because the us isn’t in eurovision so he’d either have to represent the uk (bc hugh) or perhaps maybe even france (bc louisiana, also I believe hugh speaks french anyway) or we could take many creative liberties and set this au in a world where the us does compete for some reason!

if he’s an act, it’s probably an underdog act bc I can’t imagine will doing any kind of promotion before the competition haha (whatever his act is it’s probably dark and edgy. unless this is slutty evil will, in which case it’s still something dark but the lighting is blood red and the whole thing is quite sexual)

(will sings every sexual/innuendo line while staring directly at hannibal. he even sings a particularly descriptive line in lithuanian. someone in the audience catches hannibal’s expression. it becomes a meme)

he could also be one of hannibal’s backing singers/dancers?

or a stage hand/tech guy who finds hannibal killing chilton a guy backstage lol

jack is the executive supervisor of eurovision/will’s longsuffering pr guy/manager who scouted will for the competition but is starting to deeply regret it (rip)

beverly, jimmy and brian are will’s co-performers or his entourage/supporters (beverly to support will, price because he gets to go to eurovision and zeller because price dragged him along)

etc etc this is so silly but I kind of love it

[okaioh]

I miss playing hsr - im about to dedicate all 24 hours today to finally get grinding through the penacony quest 💪

[ariahime]

i’ve decided when i’ll come back but i get the feeling around that time, i might get busy with works so hopefully i can try come back to writing on tumblr.

[kyaruun]

have i ever mentioned my project management professor is a sweetheart and the moment he found out i have an interest in art he started asking to see my doodles. and then he showed me his art insta and nnnnn HE'S SO SUPPORTIVE. artist, (casual) videogame developer,, really, everything i want to be <3

i might as well show him acanthe mika and pray he doesn't ask where the design came from ahaha

[b1rds3ye]

AAAA i loved that 141 + masked reader one!! omg you're filling my head with mask ideas now...

what if reader had one of those LED masks that showed different facial expressions? just walking around going ":D" ":]" "^-^" "?" ">:(" as a substitute of their real expressions. omfg imagine them coming back from a mission and price is praising them on their work or smth and they just hit him with the "uwu"

I'm glad so many people are liking the prompt, I had a lot of fun with it too!! This is very much giving me Watch Dogs 2 Wrench but also Rina Tennoji omg there are so many legendary masked characters-

The rest of the 141 were confused at first. While the mask provided anonymity, there was also the benefit of hiding facial information to an enemy. But now with these LEDs your emotions could be read like an open book, but ultimately they found it endearing.

Soap in particular loves your mask. Johnny loves surprising you to generate "!"s over the eyes and finds himself smiling every time your mask switches to a new emotion. As demolition expert, he prides himself over the one time he got you so riled up that an error message flashed across your mask. He's also genuinely curious about the mask and will gladly try to help if there are any technical difficulties or if you want a hardware upgrade. He's also the most unnerved out of the 141 if you ever turn the LEDs off, immediately by your side to comfort you as he can no longer read your mood.

Gaz doesn't often provoke you but he does find himself snickering whenever your expressions change from others. It's also an easy way for Kyle to keep track of how you're feeling, even when no one's around your mask automatically goes ";-;" when you're feeling down and he'll check up on you. Whenever he does make a joke though, he's immediately looking to your mask to see if someone will appreciate his humour. He also wishes you turned off your mask more during missions, the little angry face your mask makes isn't intimidating in the slightest and he can't risk getting distracted cooing over you during an op.

Ghost is very curious. Your own mask has him wondering if his own needs a bit of an upgrade - perhaps an LED skull mask with a moving lower jaw. Simon's heart warms up a bit at how you've picked a mask that's still so comically expressive, he enjoys interacting with someone that's so upfront with their emotions. He won't admit it but he finds it cute how your mask goes "-_-" whenever he says one of his horrendous "military humour" jokes. He's considerate of your mask and ensures that there is no water or liquids nearby.

Price's first concern was practicality (how the hell were you going to use night-vision?) but once the mask seems to work without a hitch, he now checks on your mask to not only gauge your mood but as a visual indicator of the overall atmosphere among the rest of the task force. You're now his favourite person to praise. He doesn't give it freely of course, but most of his subordinates will try to hide their smiles as they glow under his praise as they keep up their tough soldier persona. You though? The sudden "! o !" and then consequential "^_^" as you walk away with a hop in your step is probably the sweetest thing he's seen in his entire military career.

It's all fun and games until you turn off the LEDs - usually done in dark/covert missions or when you're interrogating the enemy. That's when you're truly unreadable, a masked terror. As you eliminate enemies in close combat the last thing they will see is their own face contorted into absolute terror as it is faintly reflected like a memory against the bottomless darkness of your visor.

Masked Reader Masterlist Call of Duty Masterlist

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

a Charlie who spent the last few years kinda physically and emotionally isolated from people, now trying not to scare off the cute wounded dumpster lady she brought home-

and Charlie's still juuuuuuust out of practice enough that Vaggie (having fallen asleep sitting against a wall) not only wakes up gently covered in Charlie's coat (aww), but also with Charlie herself crouching Less Than A Foot Away From Her Face, Staring And Frowning With Worry

Vaggie: *groggy and in pain* *sees a demon* *AAAA*

Charlie: "Hi"

Vaggie: "AAAAH!!" (reflexively punches)

Charlie: (right before getting punched) "Are you feeling any bet- ARUGH!!!"

Vaggie realizing this is the nice demon? who helped her??? and she just punched the nice lady demon in the face????? hard enough to knock Charlie ass over tea kettle?????

Vaggie: (jumps up to help) "SORRY! I'm sorry I didn't-"

Vaggie: (back slams into wall)

Vaggie: "ah"

Vaggie: (faints from pain)

cute dumpster lady slumps unconscious to the floor, or rather onto the floor Charlie is already inhabiting. Charlie now has cute dumpster lady limp in her arms AND a black eye and one of these is really freaking her out

Charlie: "Oh nooooo. Oh shit oh fuck don't be dead don't be dead, first time alone with someone in years please please PLEASE don't say I've killed her- hey? Hey! Open your beautiful eyes! Y-your eye, your normal looking eye- I- Fuck fuck fuck-"

(vaggie groans)

Charlie: "-Ohhh thank hell. Whew."

next time Vaggie wakes up she thinks she's alone... until she looks around and sees Charlie peeking nervously around the edge of the open door. and it's, kinda hard to be freak out by a demon when she's huddled down as small as she can make herself, waving one finger at Vaggie tentatively, and whisper-shouting that she's got snacks and juice if Vaggie's feeling hungry

years later, Vaggie still feels really bad about the black eye thing. Charlie loves it though. she specially loves teasing that, technically, Vaggie was the one who hit on her first

Charlie: "Remember that time you punched me in the face?"

Vaggie: "I still have nightmares about it yeah."

Charlie: "I can't believe we'd barely even met, and you were already-"

Vaggie: "Babe no."

Charlie: "-you were already hitting on me~"

Vaggie: (groans in pain) (and with love)

[bad-and-drawn-that-way]

Let me just say, I absolutely adore your writing so much!! Your More Than Anything series with Vox is honestly one of, if not my favorite Vox series!!!❤💙 I was wondering if you could do a kind of silly, fluffy imagine with Vox where they're in their early stages of flirting/crushing and the reader avoids the topic of kissing... because they think Vox isn't able to kiss with his screen? Literally before episode 8, the question in my mind was "Can the dorky TV man kiss?" And then we got confirmation he most DEFINITELY could 🤣 I just think it'd be so cute and funny for that to be something the reader was wondering as well but wasn't sure how to ask him about it without being weird lol

Oh my goodness, such high praise aaaa! I actually have a scene in my Ao3 fic based on the same concept! I'd be happy to write some awkward smoochums! This guy is such a fucking dork and I love him.

Assumptions [Vox x Reader Fluff]

You and Vox had been dating for a month and the overlord was on the verge of insanity. He knew that Valentino had much more intense needs when it came to physical affection than most, but he wasn't expecting such a drastic shift in needs when it came to you.

He knew that being in a real relationship was very different from what he'd experienced before with his fellow overlord. But he thought the two of you would have done something by now. Not even necessarily sex. (Although he'd definitely been fantasizing about that more than he cared to admit.)

The two of you had cuddled, slept in the same bed, and even h*ld h*nds, but you hadn't kissed yet and it wasn't for his lack of trying. He'd invited you on romantic dates and set up several perfect opportunities. But whenever he'd try to go for it, you'd always pull away before he had the chance.

He didn't understand. The two of you had been doing so well. You always seemed to be swept up in the little heated moments just as much as he was, so why?!

Vox had been completely distracted during his entire news segment and groaned as slipped into his secluded dressing room. If it wasn't for the fact that he caught sight of you in his mirror, he probably would have flipped out when he felt your arms slip around him from behind.

"What are you doing here?" he chuckled as he lifted a hand to rest on one of your arms.

"I missed you," you smile, squeezing him gently before letting go. "And I saw that..." you cringe. "Performance. You seemed off. Is something on your mind?"

Vox's eyes widened and he cursed himself mentally for putting on a subpar show in front of the camera. If you noticed, then the audience probably did as well. No one really gave half a fuck about the news, but ratings were ratings.

"It's nothing," Vox muttered. "It's just..."

He looks up at you with an unreadable expression and you gasp as he reaches up and gently takes hold of your chin. His brow furrows as he tucks your hair behind your ear and your heart races a million miles per second as he searches your blushing face for something. His eyes flick down to your lips and he slowly starts to lean, only for you to suddenly push him away.

"A-Anyways I just wanted to check in on you and see if we were still on for a movie tonight," you stammered.

Vox froze, not listening to your ramblings as he processed your deflection. He felt a sharp, cold sting of rejection in his chest and wondered if maybe you weren't as interested in the relationship as he hoped. His heart started to break, but then he noticed the way you were blushing.

"Why?" He asked quietly.

"Well, I just thought maybe you wanted to-"

"No," Vox grit his teeth as he grabbed you by the shoulders. "Why the fuck won't you kiss me? Every time I try, you pull away. We're dating, so why?"

You blinked up at him owlishly, your jaw hanging open before you grabbed his arms and breathed, "You can kiss?!"

Vox's brow furrowed as he looked you over, "Wh- The fuck are you on about? Yes, I can fucking kiss! I've been trying to kiss you for the past three goddamn weeks!"

You gasped before burying your face in your hands and groaning. "Oh my god, I thought... There were a couple times that I wondered, but this whole time I didn't think you could and I didn't want to be weird and..."

Vox stood taller as he processed your words. You didn't hate him. You weren't repulsed by him. You were just...

He burst out laughing, clutching his stomach as he absolutely lost it. "O-Oh my god! You're such a fucking idiot!"

Your face was burning with embarrassment. You knew he wasn't being malicious, but you were still mortified at the misunderstanding. "Oh shut up! It's not my fault you're a flat-faced fucker!"

You were about to go bury your shame into the couch, fully expecting him to hold this against you for the rest of the day, but you were barely able to take two steps before Vox intervened.

You let out a startled yelp as you felt his claws wrap around your arm and yank you back. In the split second it took you to blink, he'd trapped you against a wall. You flinched as his hands slammed against either side of your head, trapping you as he grinned down at you.

"You are so fucking stupid," he snickered.

Your face only grew warmer as your heart pounded with mixed anger, embarrassment, and something else entirely due to the position he had you in. His hand traces lightly over your cheek before cupping the side of your face as he looks at you with the softest expression you'd ever seen from him.

You gasp as he leans down and presses his lips against yours. Your entire body feels like tiny fireworks are dancing lightly over your skin. You shiver as your hands instinctively reach up to grasp at his vest when he pulls you close.

You're both breathing much harder than is necessary when he pulls away. For a moment you just look at each other with half-lidded gazes as you process the sparks that just metaphorically and literally flew. You were pretty sure a bulb went out due to the little bits of blue energy that sparked off of your boyfriend during the kiss.

Speaking of your dork, Vox breathlessly grinned as he squeezed your arms. He let out a small laugh before stepping away from you and turning as more little sparks flew.

"Fucking finallyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!" Vox yelled as he pumped his arms in the air and kicked his legs like a giddy child.

[agaypanic]

hi omg i got so excited when i saw you were doing egon spengler x reader aaaa! could you do egon and an personality opposite reader? he's all serious and deadpan while she's happy and upbeat (it'd be cool if she was the new girl in the team and had a crush on him). sort of like a "she fell first, he fell harder" situation?

The Sunlight On My Spores (Egon Spengler X Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: The new addition to the ghostbuster’s team is a ray of sunshine, and she has her sights on a scientist with an interest in fungi and the supernatural.

A/N: AHHHHH ive been waiting for an egon/ghostbuster request!!! since i havent written for egon before, i hope i get his character right lol also idk shit about science/paranormal jargon. and idk if eegs is spelled the way it should but it’s pronounced ee-gs, like egon but s instead of on

***

Joining the Ghostbusters definitely brought amusement and hecticness to your daily life. Although you handled more of the office work, you had seen your fair share of the paranormal action. Namely Slimer, who would get ahold of your lunch every now and then.

Ray was the first on the team that you had met, being the one to interview you. You liked to call him ‘Sun-Ray’ for his bright and positive personality.

You were pretty much hired on the spot, mainly because Janine had been complaining about the lack of extra help. But as long as you had a steady paycheck, you didn’t mind. Ray had immediately showed you around the firehouse. You met Peter and Winston on the main floor, the former being flirtatious and the latter being more polite in his welcoming. 

Then Ray took you up to the second floor, where the dining area, sleeping quarters, and lab were.

That’s where you met Egon Spengler. His tall frame was hunched over one of the lab’s many workbenches, doing some soldering work on a proton pack.

“Spengs!” Ray said with a wide grin, bringing you over to the scientist. The man in question set down the soldering iron and straightened up, adjusting his glasses as he turned around.

“What is it, Ray?” He asked in a somewhat monotone voice. He glanced at you, furrowing his brows slightly before looking back at his friend. “Who’s this?”

“This is Y/n, our new recruit!” Ray replied enthusiastically, patting you on the shoulder. 

“Ah, so you’ve filled the new receptionist position.” He said, giving you a once-over. “Janine will be happy to hear that.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Dr. Spengler.” You greeted with a smile. He outreached his hand, which you grasped firmly and gave a few shakes. His hand was slightly calloused, probably from his work, but still felt nice.

“Egon’s fine.”

“I’ve read a few of your papers on paranormal studies; I think the whole thing’s fascinating.” 

Some of his research papers weren’t the only thing of Egon’s you’ve seen. Ever since the Ghostbusters had gained some popularity, you couldn’t help but find him quite cute, spending an extra few seconds looking at him whenever a picture of the group was in your newspaper or on your television screen. 

And he was definitely even more handsome in person.

“Well then, you’ve definitely come to the right place.” Ray grinned, but your focus was still on the spectacled man before you.

“Thank you, that’s very flattering.” Although his voice was a bit monotonous, the response was genuine. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to check on my spore samples.”

“Spore samples?” You asked with curiosity.

“Yes. I collect spores, molds, and fungus.” 

“That sounds like fun!” Egon was a bit taken aback by your response. That wasn’t a reply he was used to hearing. And the fact that you sounded genuine and peppy was even more confusing to him. 

Ray, wanting to show you the rest of the firehouse, started to pull you away. You gave a quick goodbye to Egon before bounding down the stairs after Ray. Meanwhile, Egon needed to take a second to get his befuddled thoughts straight before he could tend to his samples.

***

You fell into a routine pretty quickly. The job was mainly making appointments and ensuring the boys were ready for a call, scheduled or unexpected. Occasionally, you filed paperwork or got coffee for everyone at odd hours in the day. But because the job was shared between you and Janine, you often had at least a little bit of free time.

“Got another one!” Peter announced as he stepped out of the Ecto-1 that had just rolled into the firehouse, holding up a slightly smoking trap. As Winston and Ray emerged from the car, you wondered if Peter had been wearing a poncho because he was the only one not covered at least halfway in goo. “He was a real slimy one, too.”

“I can tell.” You laughed as Ray and Winston peeled out of their uniforms with a grimace. 

“You’re back.” Egon’s voice almost made you jump; you hadn’t realized he had come down from the lab. He walked until he was standing next to you, holding his hand out towards the ghost trap. “I’ll take that, Peter. Ray, come with me, I want to discuss the containment facility with you.”

“What about it?” Ray asked as he closed his locker. Egon brushed past you to walk down to the basement, Ray close behind.

Not wanting to be caught staring at Egon’s leaving form, you whipped back around to the car. It seemed that Winston and Ray weren’t the only ones who got slimed. Poor Ecto.

“I think I’m gonna clean the car.” You thought aloud. “You guys don’t have any more calls until tomorrow.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, Y/n,” Winston said. 

“Well, someone’s gotta do it,” Peter interjected. “We gotta ride in style, after all.”

“Really, Winston, I don’t mind.” You insisted. “I don’t have anything else to do.”

“Suit yourself.” He said with a shrug.

Patting you on the shoulder, Winston went upstairs to take a shower. While Peter hung up his jumpsuit, you looked around in a storage closet for car washing supplies.

“Y/n?” You looked towards the sound of the voice, seeing Egon peeking out of the basement entrance.

“Yeah, Eegs?”

“You, uh-” He cleared his throat, cheeks going slightly pink, and you wondered why. “You can wear my jumpsuit, if you want. So your clothes don’t get dirty.”

You grinned, straightening up from your slightly bent position. Peter raised a brow at Egon, although you couldn’t see that because you were also looking at the tall man.

“Thanks, Egon!”

He nodded once before going back downstairs, Peter hot on his tail. 

“You sweet on her or something, Spengs?” He asked quietly, not wanting to gain your attention.

“Shut up, Venkman.”

***

Music blasted as you washed the soap suds of the Ecto-1. You were pretty sure everyone was out of the building, either getting lunch or just not wanting to be in the firehouse. You had taken Egon up on his offer, his jumpsuit fitting very baggy on you. You had to roll up the sleeves and pantlegs, but you didn’t mind. Especially when seeing the patch with his last name on your chest.

Over the music and your own voice singing along to Whitney Houston, you didn’t hear Egon walking down the stairs. When he reached the bottom step, he watched as you jumped around to the beat. 

“I need a man who’ll take the chance, on a love that burns hot enough to last.” You sprayed the last of the soap off the front of the car before turning the hose off. “So when the night falls, my lonely heart calls. Ohh- Oh!” You yelped in surprise as you turned around, seeing Egon, who was still looking at you. His eyes trailed up and down your form, but it was so quick that you didn’t notice. “Hey, Eegs! I thought you’d gone out with the others.” Even after turning down the radio to hear his response, you still danced a bit. Although, your movements were a bit more subdued.

“I was up in the lab, checking on my fungi.” 

“Oh! Was the music distracting you?” You asked, already sounding apologetic. “I can keep it down if you-”

“No!” Egon answered quickly, taking the both of you by surprise. He cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses. “No, the music’s fine. I wanted a snack and found that we were out of Twinkies, so I was going to get some.” 

You nodded in understanding, moving to put away the car cleaning supplies that you were no longer using. And then you noticed that Egon hadn’t made any move to leave. You looked over your shoulder, seeing that he was standing in the same spot with eyes darting around the room, and turned back around to face him. You tilted your head with a questioning look.

“Would you, ahem, would you like to come with me?” He seemed a bit shy to ask, and it made you smile brightly. “Wouldn’t want to leave you here all alone and all.”

“Sure!” You answered enthusiastically. “Lemme just put all this away.” 

Without asking, Egon helped you gather everything and put it in the storage closet. You unrolled the limbs of Egon’s uniform, and he couldn’t help but admire you in his attire, despite how much the fabric consumed you. It was hung back up in his locker with care before you grabbed your purse from your desk and skipped over to him.

“Ready?” You nodded, and the two of you walked out of the firehouse. Without thinking, you looped your arm through his. But before you could pull away and apologize for not asking, he was already pulling you along the sidewalk, the tiniest hint of a smile on his serious face.

[neuvistar]

idk if you write poly but imagine jing yuan and blade overstimulating you the whole night!!! jing yuan ofc praises you while he makes you cry and calls you oh so teethrotting words, blade on the other hand, degrades the shit out of you and tells jing yuan things like “don’t baby them” and then spanks you or grabs your hair

PROMISE IT WON’T HURT?

— featuring ┊jing yuan x f!reader x blade

— warnings / content warnings ┊not proofread, double penetration, vaginal sex, degradation, a little bit of she/her pronouns, spanking, praise kink, blade being a lil bitch, both have a size kink if u squint, reader implied to be shorter than them in height, dirty talk, use of nicknames, overall suggestive content | 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

— a/n ┊MHMM OFC I DO <3 i like writing em despite not doing posting it, u are sososo real for this nonnie it’s a great balance too, two hot men wrapped around your finger, TYSM 4 THE REQUEST NONNIE! AAAA THIS IS A BIT RUSHED BUT I HOPE ITS FINE

BLADE AND JING YUAN. where could you even start? first off, it was a pain living with both jing yuan and blade, you can never have a peaceful night. you love them both dearly, yes.. but one was always rougher with you than the other was. jing yuan always treated you like a princess, so it was quite obvious he was always the one you would run to whenever blade was being so so mean to you, one lucky girl you are. you decided it was a good idea to give jing yuan some attitude one evening. he was getting on your nerves, crossing your arms as you looked up at him, narrowing your eyes. oh.. you were adorable. but you knew better than to give him attitude, blade would always get involved too..

jing yuan stares down at you as if you were merely just someone below him, well.. you are gonna be below both him and blade if don’t put a stop to your bratty antics right here and there. “what did i say about giving me attitude, angel? do you never listen?” he asks calmly, the soft smile still lingering on his face. he can't help but smile a little at how adorable you look right now, your arms crossed in protest and your face scrunching up like you're upset. jing yuan was almost tempted to give you exactly what you want, whatever it is. “you’re the one that doesn’t listen to me, jing yuan. don’t give me this!”

jing yuan sighs softly as you whine and cry. your voice is just so cute, and he can't help but want to give you whatever you want just to stop you from being so stubborn. he chuckled, smiling gently at you. his tone and expression softens as he kisses the tip of your nose. he’s just so weak against your whining and crying, such an angel you are.. he can’t resist you. “alright.. fine, my dove. you know you can get whatever you want by whining and acting like that, don't you?" he would whisper softly, pulling your body closer to his chest, a soft smile still lurking on his face as he gazed down at you. “how about this..." a familiar voice adds, making your heart drop as you felt something.. or someone brush against your back, mumbling softly into your ear, lips brushing against the lobe of your ear breathing softly against you. “would ya quit babying her, jing yuan? she doesn’t deserve it. listen here, princess.” blade grabbed your shoulder turning you to face him, hand on your chin. “the next time you whine at him, i’ll give you something to cry about. got it?”

“the hell you will! you’re always so mean, blade. punishing me any chance you get. s’ not even a big deal!” “then you’ll have to be good,” blade spat. “you’re such a crybaby. it makes it harder for me not to give you something to whine and cry about.” you pressed your thighs together, feeling the wetness in between your legs as you swallowed the lump in your throat, crossing your arms at him. “tone it down with the angel, would you? she just wanted something, she might’ve got carried away with the begging and whining but.. it’ll be fine.”

blade looked back down at you, biting down on your shoulder as he caught sight of you clutching on jing yuan’s chest, a low chuckle rumbling from the general’s throat. “it’ll be alright, angel. you don’t want your punishment, don’t you?” you were being squished between them, cheek against jing yuan’s chest as he ran his hand down your lower back, patting gently. “no, no i don’t.” blade bit down on your shoulder, applying more pressure. you let out a soft wince, your knuckles white from the harsh grip you had on jing yuan’s attire. “no?” blade says, feigning surprise as he lifts an eyebrow. “i’ll give you a reason to want it, i’ll can make you want it. i’ll have you begging and whining for my cock once we’re done with you, stubborn girl.”

oh boy.. you’re done for tonight.

—

"a little bratty and bad darling you are, hm?” jing yuan remarked teasingly, you were seated on his cock, tears already forming in your eyes as you begged him to be gentle with you, blade working on marking you, oh how painful his teeth felt.. you were on cloud 9 at this point. jing yuan’s eyes gaze into yours as his hand trails up your hips his warm breath washes over your shoulder as he speaks, his words filled with affection and love. “cmon angel, keep going. you’re doing so good, y’know that baby? taking my cock so well.” he praised, planting a kiss on your collarbone. “tell me, angel. you don’t need your punishment, right? you’re such a good girl for me.. right?” nodding viciously, you couldn’t think straight. you weren’t even sure how he managed to fit inside, but you loved it.

“not for me.” the words are just enough to push blade over the edge, his hand moving in a swift motion and spanking your bottom hard, the sharp pain making your entire back tingle. “o-ow! blade?—“ you yell out as the pain quickly starts to spread all through your nerves. “that hurts!”

“it does hurt, doesn’t it?” he lets his hand settle on your bottom for just a couple more seconds before removing it. He looks down on you, his tone and look still serious, a deadpan nonchalant expression on his face. but there’s an underlying air of lust as you lay there on jing yuan’s bare chest in pain, his cock still thrusting inside your abused pussy slowly. blade forcibly grabbed at your hips, aligning himself with your hole, the same hole jing yuan was using. “w-wait!” jing yuan shut you up with a kiss, his touch so sweet.. calming you down almost immediately. “it’ll be fine, dove. you’re already doing a good job handling mine, you can handle two cocks at once, can you?”

“promise it won’t hurt?”

“i promise, sweetheart. you can do it, right? ‘gonna be a good girl f’me and blade?”

one..

“f-for you i’ll be..”

two..

“that’s my girl.”

three!

blade took this opportunity to thrust himself inside your cunt, a loud whine leaving your throat. your eyes flew open as jing yuan licked his lips, keeping you in place as he took sight of your fucked out state, seeing how well you were taking them, a bulge forming on your stomach. your breathing became shallow, and it hitched every time blade plunged into you. face scrunched, absorbed in pure lust and hunger. “that’s it, dove. you’re doing great.. so pretty.” “f-fuck.. stop babying her, asshole.” you were stuck in between them, really. the roughness and harsh movements of blade’s thrusts mixed with jing yuan’s soft and slow thrusts, you felt so full, tongue lolling out with your mind going completely blank at this rate as you came on their cocks almost immediately, coating their huge dicks with white.

“ohh.. she came already. you like this, dove? ‘like how it feels? i like how this pretty pussy feels around me too.” jing yuan kissed your tears away, his hair was damp with sweat, plastered to his forehead. blade withdrew himself almost completely and pushed back in, fucking you with his entire length. he gave you a small squeeze on your bottom, a teasing smile danced on his lips, a hint of cruelty almost once his hand comes to rest near your bottom, landing another slap on the fat of your ass. “fuckin’ sloppy..” he spoke, giving your ass another slap, your body jolting forward at the stinging pain as you came once again, feeling how sticky it felt in between your thighs.

both blade and jing yuan felt their lengths rubbing against each other, grunting loudly as they pressed themselves together sliding their dicks side by side through your entrance, completely buried inside as the tips of their lengths kissed your cervix. blade grabbed a handful of your hair, pulling you back to his chest, his cock bullying itself inside your cunt far more roughly this time. “once we cum, you’re taking it all. not a single drop to be left.. ‘got that?” you nodded weakly, jing yuan sat up slightly as he chuckled, kissing your jaw. “such a good girl you are, baby.” both continued fucking you at a steady pace, making sure not to miss a beat. “you like that, slut? ‘like being used like this?” one taunted mockingly while the other grunted in response, chasing his high “f-fucking hell, m’ gonna cum. you feel too good, princess.”

both blade and jing yuan found themselves approaching their orgasm, picking up the pace of their thrusts, feeling one enter while the other pulls away, one enter and the other pull away.. over and over. on repeat. fuck. you felt so full and they haven’t even came inside you, yet the feeling of their lengths inside the same hole at the same time were enough to make you cum on the spot. they kept ramming themselves deep inside your poor abused pussy, making sure not to miss any spot leaving no part untouched until finally releasing streams of their seed, coating your walls with white just like how your coated their dicks. you were absolutely exhausted. once blade pulled away, he admired how slowly his cum would leave your hole, dripping onto jing yuan’s. you collapsed on jing yuan’s chest, your body shook at the amount of exhaustion that washed over your body.

“you were too rough on her, blade. one day, you might actually break her.” he chuckled, wrapping his arms around you as his cock was still inside you, grabbing at your hips and slowly pulling your off with his strong arms, laying you down on the mattress as he grabbed a cloth and wiped the mess in between your legs, not realizing how much they both filled you to the brim.

“tsk. i’m pretty sure i— no. we already have.”

[geombyu]

GOJO SEES YOU WEARING HIS SHIRT !

Pairing. student!gojo x student!gn!reader

Genre. fluff, friends to hinted lovers perhaps

Word count. 0.6k | Warnings. swearing, the reader is smaller than gojo (the shirt is big on them)

A/N. i see a lot of these and like 7/10 times theyre smut LMAOAO so i wanted to write a fluff ver! i also did Not think id be writing for jjk but 😭 ig we are + not rlly proofread sorry :(

Today was Gojo's day off, and what better way to start it than waking up at four pm?

He was a busy guy - despite only being in high school - he's already taken on many jobs, it was only right he could get sixteen hours of sleep.

When he arrived at your shared dorm at twelve in the morning, you were already asleep, so when he got out of his room and laid his eyes on you wearing his t-shirt, he couldn't help but gasp.

"Oh, hey Satoru." You spoke, sparing him a quick glance before going back to cooking. His mouth was still wide open; he couldn't respond—he tried, but he couldn't. No sound could leave him. Who knew all it took for the strongest to be left speechless was the sight of you in his shirt?

You look back at him, seeing how his jaw was still on the floor, you realize it was probably because of what you were wearing right now.

"Oh! This? Sorry," you chuckle, "none of my clothes have been washed yet—call me gross, whatever—so I decided to steal from your wardrobe. Hope you don't mind." You stuck your tongue out before placing the eggs on a plate.

You moved to put the plate on the dining table, giving him a better view of you in his shirt. It fit him so perfectly, so seeing it so big on you absolutely made his heart melt.

There was a light tint of pink on your friend's cheeks now; you were so cute he felt like he was going to pass out.

"Are you okay with just eggs? There's more stuff but I wanna save them for next time—oh, actually, you might not be here tomorrow…" You mumbled the last part, choosing to ignore how he still hasn't responded to any of your sentences.

Gojo tried to get a word out, but all he could manage was a strange, strangled noise, which you respond to with a confused hum. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't organize any of his thoughts. He was screaming over and over in his head, but there was a thought slightly bigger than the rest (the rest which consisted of AAAA's, OH MY GOD's, and WHAT THE FUCK's)—that thought was: "holy fuck you're so adorable," which was also exactly what he just blurted out.

Now it was your turn to be flustered, "I—what?"

Gojo's eyes widen before he covers his face with his hands, his face now fully red. "Ignore what I just said," his voice was muffled, but you could still hear what he said.

You never thought you'd see the Gojo Satoru blushing so deeply with his face in his hands, but here he is. You laugh, "can you repeat that?" You were teasing him, I mean, it's not every day that this happens, but any more teasing and his heart might actually blow up.

"Y/n, shut up—oh my God—I hate you!"

"I thought you said I was adorable? Or do you hate cute things?"

He yells into the palms of his hands.

Although you're being bold right now, him calling you adorable caused your brain to shut down for a good millisecond. Gojo complimented you all the time, but somehow, this felt different.

You walk to where he's standing right now, hands still covering his pretty face. You put your hand on his, and the feeling of your warm and soft hands comfort him.

He could tell you wanted to pull his hands away, and while he didn't want that, he was so weak to your touch.

He had no other option but to give in, so he did. You put his left hand away first, then the right. With his hand still in yours, you softly spoke, "if that's the case, then you must really hate yourself."

Oh, he was so in love with you.

© geombyu

[the-karma-cafe]

arthur morgan x reader ("thursdays")

(also posted on ao3 under same username)

in which the boys are curious where arthur runs off to every thursday night (ITS FOR SEX)

song is Moonshadow by Cat Stevens ! spoiler they be fucking :/ i be making them fuck for real (oh no aaaa no arthur dont have sex with me no aaa that would be terrible i would hate that)

Javier’s eyes track Arthur as he slinks away from the campfire, tuning out Sean’s boisterous storytelling. He knows the gunslinger is readying his horse to leave. He also knows he’ll be gone for a couple of hours, returning around one or two in the morning to slump into his bed after everyone has gone to sleep.

How does Javier know?

Surprisingly, Arthur is a creature of strict routine, and he does this song and dance every Thursday night—without fail. 

Javier furrows his brow, unable to quash his curiosity this time. What on Earth could he be going off to do so regularly? He never came back with meat, so he wasn’t hunting. He couldn’t be off robbing, because when he got back, he didn’t drop anything off at the contribution box. Oh, Javier, maybe he was planning to do so later on? Ah, ah, ah! What do we know about Arthur? Ever the routine-man, he donates to the camp box the second he enters camp, no matter what he just got back from. It’s always the first thing he does. Can’t be shoppin’, ‘cause it’s too late for that. Can’t be killin’, ‘cause he comes back clean. 

A cuff round his shoulder roused him from his thoughts. “Javier! Didja hear me?” Sean said, drink emboldening his speech (not that the Irishman needed much encouragement). 

Javier ignored him, glancing over his shoulder. Sure enough, Arthur was on his horse, trotting away from camp, everyone else none-the-wiser.

“Hullloooo??” Sean needled, pushing his side into Javier’s. 

Javier looked over to Lenny and Charles sitting across the campfire from them, and felt a spark of inspiration ignite within him. He leaned forward, beckoning them closer with his hand. They looked confused, but crossed the clearing anyway, kneeling in front of his and Sean’s log. 

“What is it?” Lenny prompted, his voice hushed. He could always trust Lenny to be discreet.

“Yeah!” Sean added, much louder. ...He could’ve guessed. 

He lowered his voice, smirking conspiratorially. “Where’d Arthur go?”

Sean and Lenny frowned, caught off-guard by the question, but Charles inclined his head in understanding. “I didn’t think anyone else noticed.”

“Noticed what??” Sean whined, leaning in closer to Charles. “Don’t be keepin’ secrets, now!”

Charles rolled his eyes, waving his hand to shush Sean. He nodded his head to Javier. “Arthur’s been leaving every Thursday night.”

Sean scrunched his nose. “So what? Art’ur leaves all the time!” Lenny nodded along.

Javier shook his head. “But Thursdays are different. He leaves around 10PM, comes back around 1AM. Why the same amount of time?”

Sean was quiet for a moment (if one could believe it), before jumping up from the log, his beer bottle sloshing in his hand. “Let’s go find out!!” he whispered loudly, grinning from ear to ear.

Javier couldn’t help but mirror his expression. He was hoping he wasn’t the only one this curious about it. He felt a thrum of excitement run through him. He pushed up from the log, Lenny readying to follow him.

“Guys,” Charles interrupted, stopping their walk to the horses. “Arthur’s entitled to his privacy. We should let him have this—whatever it is.” 

He should’ve expected this from ever-noble Charles. Sean began to argue, but Javier cut him off, knowing he wouldn’t win against Charles. “It’s probably nothing.” he retorted, trying not to feel guilty under the other man’s pointed stare. He turned away, making for the horses anyway. “I’m going. You don’t have to.”

“Wouldn’t miss this fer the world!” Sean laughed, immediately tagging along. Javier fought the triumphant grin pulling at his lips. He heard Lenny awkwardly shuffle behind them, some whispered apology to Charles.

He mounted his horse, waiting impatiently for Sean to struggle onto his own. His eyes searched the growth around the camp, hoping to find an indication of where Arthur ran off to. He could track, but Charles was the expert. It would make things much easier to have him with them…

The man in question’s voice came behind him. “I’m only tagging along to make sure you don’t ruin whatever Arthur has going on.” He turned to see Charles mounting Taima, disapproval marring his proud features. 

Javier grinned in spite of it. “Excellent! Vámonos!” he cheered, leading the search brigade with Charles by his side, the other man’s trained eye focused on the ground. Lenny followed behind them with Sean drunkenly pulling up the rear. Charles looked as though he wanted to stop him from coming, but seemed to decide against it, knowing the stubborn man wouldn’t listen to a word he said.

Charles followed Arthur’s trail down the left path from camp, past the trees, past the tracks, until they arrived in Valentine. Javier felt giddy. 

Charles stopped them in front of the saloon, hopping off his horse to hitch her, the rest of them quickly following suit.

“The saloon?” Sean whispered, creeping up the steps to peer through the building’s windows. Lenny followed behind him, and the two poked their noses over the ledge of the window, trying to sneak a glance within. Charles walked over to join them, and would have looked less suspicious if not for the two idiots in front of him crouched like children. 

Javier approached the window opposite them, casually leaning to the side of it to look in. Not that his subtlety helped him, as again, he was across from three grown men cartoonishly trying to peek inside as well. 

He spied a couple of men that looked like Arthur before finally seeing actual Arthur at the bar. He wasn’t hunched over it, like some of the other patrons were, and instead was looking around at the other people in the saloon, as if searching for someone. What could that be about? He wondered.

Before he could think on it further, Sean strolled into the saloon, Lenny in tow. Charles shared a knowing glance with him before following them in. 

Sean beelined for Arthur, and soon they all surrounded him, clapping him on the back.

“You’d go to the saloon without inviting yer favorite drinking buddy?” Sean accused, roughly pushing at the man’s shoulder. 

“My favorite drinking buddy, huh?” Arthur echoed, his voice not reflecting what Javier knew to be embarrassment on his face. Arthur slumped over the bar, tugging the front of his hat further over his face. 

Sean gasped. “Drinkin’ with me’s a treat! Ye should be so lucky!”

Javier nudged him from his other side. “We were wondering where you headed off to all the time. Had we known it was just the saloon we would not have bothered!” he laughed, waving the bartender over. He would buy him a drink to apologize.

“You too, Charles?” Arthur asked, sounding betrayed. 

Charles sighed, apologizing. “I was trying to get them to leave you alone, Arthur.” Javier couldn’t help but think the man didn’t put up too much of a fight. 

“Well,” Arthur cleared his throat. “‘F that’s all, you can all head on back to camp, I’ll be back soon.”

Sean scoffed. “Why d’you want to be rid of us so-”

A guitar strum floated over from the back of the saloon, and he trailed off. Arthur buried his head in his arms, the tips of his ears red. Javier cocked a brow, looking over.

“Miss me, y’all?” a pretty woman at the back of the room called out, guitar in hand. A couple of cheers and whoops came from the crowd, the saloon filled with noise.

The boys grinned knowingly. 

“Not. A goddamn. Word.” Arthur groaned, his voice muffled by his arms. 

Sean barked a laugh, clapping the man on the back. “Ohoho, ye rascal, we shoulda known ye’d try ta keep this beauty ta yerself!” He wolf-whistled towards the performer.

Javier grinned toothily, leaning in to tease Arthur. “You could have told us you were only leaving to see about a girl, Arthur.”

Arthur pushed up from his slump, nursing his whiskey miserably. “Like you would’ve let me hear the end of it.” He grumbled. Javier pushed his extra drink over to the man, giggling like a teenager. Arthur the Stoic, red-faced and shy about a singer. He never thought he’d see the day!

The woman, having finished her introductions while they teased Arthur, began to sing. Javier watched Arthur turn himself slightly to watch her.

Yes, I'm bein' followed by a moonshadow

Moonshadow, moonshadow

Leapin' and hoppin' on a moonshadow

Moonshadow, moonshadow

Arthur couldn’t help the dreamy smile that twisted his mouth, watching her. She looked so content, fully in her element up there on Valentine’s tiny lifted stage. The piano man to her right had abandoned his duties to drink at the nearest table.

And if I ever lose my hands

Lose my plow, lose my land

Oh, if I ever lose my hands

Oh iiiii-iiiif, I won't have to work no more

Her southern accent colored the lyrics, guiding the notes up and down as she pleased. The patrons knew this song, and sang along with her every now and then, but none followed the exact way she sang it, allowing him to easily follow her voice amidst the noise.

And if I ever lose my eyes

If my colors all run dry

Yes, if I ever lose my eyes

Oh iiiii-iiiif, I won't have to cry no more

Sean stumbled into the fray, caught in some dance with a couple of other patrons, breaking his trance. Arthur dragged a hand over his face, hoping he didn’t look as foolish as he felt. 

Yes, I’m bein' followed by a moonshadow

Moonshadow, moonshadow

Leapin' and hoppin' on a moonshadow

Moonshadow, moonshadow

Most nights, he would allow himself to indulge in the fantasy. Convince himself she was singin’ for him, that when they locked eyes across the saloon, she had the same look in hers as he did. 

And if I ever lose my legs

I won't moan, and I won't beg

Oh, if I ever lose my legs

Oh iiiii-iiiif, I won't have to walk no more

He downed his drink and reached for Javier’s—anything to give him an excuse for the way he was lookin’ at her. Having them with him just dragged him back to reality: he was just another face in the crowd to her, and even if he did catch her eye, she would just think him old and sour-faced, and leave it at that. 

And if I ever lose my mouth

All my teeth, north and south

Yes, if I ever lose my mouth

Oh iiiii-iiiif, I won't have to talk no more

He took another deep drink, feeling that familiar haze begin to set in on the edge of his vision. 

Did it take long to find me?

I asked the faithful light

Oh, did it take long to find me?

And are you gonna stay the night?

This would be the last time he let himself come here on a Thursday night. He was just torturin’ himself, thinkin’ of things that would never be. Head in the clouds, like Micah would say. Christ, he was glad they didn’t think to bring him along.

I'm bein' followed by a moonshadow

Moonshadow, moonshadow

Leapin' and hoppin' on a moonshadow

Moonshadow, moonshadow

The drink crept into his heart. If this was his last night here, with her, he might as well fool himself one last time, the drink said. What’s the harm? One last time can’t hurt. It wheedled, and he knew he’d be miserable come morning.

Moonshadow, moonshadow

Moonshadow, moonshadow

He leaned to his right, seeking Javier’s weight to nudge him for another drink (least he could do for ruinin’ his fun), but felt only air. He frowned, glancing around for the others. Sean had dragged Lenny into his drunken dance, Javier was speaking with some well-endowed woman in the corner (who seemed very pleased to have his attention), and Charles… his frown deepened, squinting at the blurry crowd. He couldn’t see Charles. Knowing the women of Valentine, he was likely cornered somewhere, politely refusing their services (although for a man like Charles, perhaps it was free).

Arthur grunted, turning back to his empty glass. Figures that his friends would quickly find company at a place he frequented, and he was left miserable and alone. He plucked his hat off his head, raking his other hand through his hair. He was sure he looked a mess—no wonder he was by himself. 

“Hey, cowboy.” a voice came from his right, startling him from his wallowing. He turned, and felt his heart jump to see his singer leaning against the bar next to him. 

Her eyes were bright, her face flushed. She seemed out of breath from her performance, but pleased, satisfied with how she had done. 

He gaped like a fish. Say somethin’, goddammit!  

She smiled, shifting her eyes to his glass. She pointed at it lazily. “Be a doll and get me what you’re havin’?”

He nodded dumbly, gesturing wordlessly at the bartender. Seconds later, a replica of his drink sat in front of her. She thanked him and brought the glass to her lips. He knew he looked ridiculous, eyes trained on the way her lips parted, the amber liquid gliding into her mouth, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away.

She set the glass back down, giving him a teasing smile. “You mute?”

He shook his head—then inwardly smacked himself for yet another wordless response. “No.” Christ, you can do better than that.

She giggled, and he thought he might die. “What a scintillating conversationalist you are, Mister…” she trailed off, tilting her head. 

“Morgan.” he provided. His mind caught up to the conversation fast enough to ask for her name in turn (he deserved a pat on the back for being so quick-witted). She gave it, and he almost sighed aloud. She had a name she introduced herself with to the crowds, but he suspected it was a stage name, and he had been correct. Her real name was a privilege to finally learn. 

He repeated it back to her, experimentally rolling it on his tongue. She grinned. “Sounds nice when you say it, Mr. Morgan.” 

“Arthur,” he corrected. “‘S just Arthur. For you.” He coughed, turning to order another drink, just to have something, anything , to distract him from the weight of her gaze on him. “I mean, if you want. Morgan’s fine too.”

“Arthur,” she purred. He felt faint. “I like that more.” His next drink arrived and he immediately buried his face in it, unable to meet her eyes. Christ, he was like a teenager. He inwardly scolded himself.

She carried on, oblivious to his inner turmoil. “I see you here a lot, Arthur.” she gestured over her shoulder to the crowd. “First time I seen you bring friends, though.”

So she had seen him in the crowd all those times? He squashed the thought before it ruined him. He laughed, shaking his head. “Bastards invited themselves.” He chanced a glance at her, her attention on the crowd instead of him. He eyed her drink, already half-empty in her hand, before looking up, up, to the curve of her chest, the proud slope of her neck, the strands of hair falling loose from her updo, her lips, her nose, her eyes… he forced himself to look at the crowd instead. “Don’t you have some adorin’ fans to go talk to?”

She turned her head to look at him, but he kept his eyes focused ahead. “I thought I was already doin’ that.” she sidled closer to him, nudging her shoulder against his arm. Warmth radiated off of her. “Unless you’re not one of my adoring fans.”

Arthur felt heat creep up his neck and he shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” she echoed, amusement coloring her voice. “I don’t think you’ve missed a single one of my performances, Arthur Morgan.” he felt a shiver run up his spine. “If anyone’s a fan, it’s you.”

He pulled the lip of his hat down over his eyes. “Maybe.” Guilty as charged.

She laughed, and rounded to his front. She flicked up the front of his hat, and his eyes met hers. He stilled, entranced. There seemed to be a glow about her, some hazy halo enveloping her body. How much had he had?  

“You won’t admit it?” What had they been talking about again? He tried not to focus on their difference in height, how easy it would be to scoop her up, his hands so large on her hips… 

“Well?” He flexed his hands, trying to reign himself in. Her face was expectant: eyebrows raised, pretty lips pursed. 

He shook his head. Couldn’t this woman see he couldn’t think straight? 

Apparently that counted as an answer and she scoffed, playfully rolling her eyes. “You embarrassed?”

Yes. Why did she think he was, again? He sighed. “I’m sorry, miss,” he tried her name again, wanting to say it over and over. “I believe I am too drunk for this conversation.”

She grinned in understanding. “Why don’t we talk someplace quieter, make things easier on your poor head, hm?” 

Someplace quieter? His mind echoed, while his body nodded dumbly, stumbling behind her. She took his hand in her own, leading him up the stairs. His eyes were trained intently on their hands, her hand small, warm, in his, her fingertips roughened from guitar strings. 

What was she doin’, touchin’ a man like him? He couldn’t bring himself to pull away, as much as he knew he should. It felt nice, to indulge. The hazy shroud around his vision encroached further inwards, tunneling his view.  

“Here,” she said, so softly he almost didn’t hear. She pushed open a door, leading him inside and shutting it behind them. It was suddenly much quieter. He breathed a sigh of relief, some tension leaving his set shoulders.

“Nicer up here, isn’t it?” she prompted, releasing his hand. He ached at the loss. He dragged his gaze up to watch her dance over to the… bed. He gulped, valiantly fighting off the thoughts that sprang up at the sight of her. 

“Mhm.” He didn’t know what to do with himself. He stood awkwardly where she had left him, staring dumbly at her. What the hell was she thinkin’, bringin’ a man like him up here, alone with her? She could get herself hurt, or worse. He frowned. She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off. “I shouldn’ be up here with you.” He shook his head, forcing himself to look at the ground. “Ain’t right. You shouldn’ trust me.” his words slurred, but he hoped she was taking him seriously despite it. 

“Why not?”

He groaned. God, her voice. He buried his head in his hands. “I ain’t. A nice man, miss,” he spoke her name again, and god, hoped she couldn’t hear how he loved to say it.

He felt her hand on his arm. When had she gotten up? She was so warm. He lowered his hands, chancing a look into her eyes, hoping he was strong enough to resist their pull. 

Christ, of course he couldn’t. She looked up at him through her lashes, stepping closer, their bodies almost touching. He breathed in, unable to bring himself to look away this time. She smelled like the alcohol everything smelled like in the saloon, but a sweet undertone ran beneath it. He was reminded of the saccharine scent of canned peaches. 

Her hand smoothed down his arm to his hand, lacing their fingers together. Her other reached up, up, and palmed his cheek, her touch gentle like she was approaching some wild horse. He leaned into it before he could stop himself, his stubble scratching against her skin. 

“How ‘bout,” she started, her voice soft and quiet, “I decide that for myself?”

His eyelids felt heavy, and he felt himself forgetting what she was even responding to. His free hand began to move of its own accord, bumping into her thigh, smoothing up to her hip. He looked down. Just like he had imagined… 

She moved, and his gaze shifted to her face, slowly nearing his. His breath hitched. This was some sweet dream. He would awaken in his tent, frustrated and wanting, would take himself in his hand and relieve himself to the sight of her like this in his mind’s eye. He would wait until next Thursday and slink back to the bar, eager for more. Her lips touched his and he sighed into her mouth, whiskey on his breath. He would stay asleep forever, if he could, lips pushing against hers, nipping at her soft skin, tonguing past it. 

She parted from him, gently, as if to not scare him off. He breathed heavily, eyes lidded, vision tunneled onto her mouth. She started to speak, but he cut her off, pushing hungrily into her, cupping his hand around the back of her neck. He had waited so long, so long. He would take it, even if it wasn’t real. 

She gasped into his mouth and he almost moaned at the sensation. God, what a privilege to finally have her all to himself. To have her in front of him, touching him, kissing him, instead of with her crowd, Arthur by himself at the other end.

Her knees buckled, falling back onto the bed. He huffed, breaking from her. He thrust his hands beneath her thighs, hearing her squeak in surprise. “Easy, girl.” he muttered under his breath, picking her up and tossing her into the pillows at the head of the bed, following soon after. 

He climbed onto the bed above her, and stilled, looking down at her. Her hair had spilled out of its updo, hair piece having been discarded… at some point, perhaps before they had even entered the room? His memory felt hazy. She looked up at him through her lashes, her lips parted, chest heaving. His eyes softened. “Yer beautiful, miss,” he whispered her name. 

Her cheeks flushed prettily. “Thank you, Arthur.” she breathed. She tilted her head up slightly, her eyes slipping down to his lips. 

He reached out, taking a piece of her hair between his fingers, twisting it around. It was soft. Of course it was. It was devastating how perfect she was. “I liked your song, earlier.” he mumbled, focused on her hair. 

“I… I’m glad.” she whispered, her hand winding up his arm, to his neck, to his head, to take off his hat. She placed it down somewhere, and her hand soon wound its way into his hair, her short nails scraping at the back of his head. His eyes slipped closed, humming at the sensation. “I was hoping you would be here, tonight.”

He blinked open his eyes just enough to see her face. “What?” he asked, his voice gruff. 

She averted her gaze, blush deepening. “Been lookin’ forward to seein’ you at my performances.”

He scoffed. Now he knew this was a dream. “Uh huh.” He leaned in, burying his nose in her neck. “You don’t gotta lie t’me.” He turned, placing open-mouthed kisses along any skin he could find. Her breath hitched in his ear. 

“I-I’m not.” she insisted. He hummed, laving across a section of skin before taking it between his teeth, sucking slightly. She held her breath for a second, forcing out her next words. “I been… been dreadin’ the day you stop showin’ up,” she breathed out, “and I’d have missed my chance.” 

He parted from her, pulling back just enough to meet her eyes. They were lidded, but earnest. He felt his heart flutter in his chest. “I counted at least ten other men better-lookin’ and closer in age t’you. Yer tellin’ me not one o’ them caught yer eye?” 

“‘S that really so hard to believe?” she palmed his cheek again, stroking it with her thumb. 

“Yes.” he laughed dryly, but leaned into her hand all the same. 

She brought up her other hand, cupping his face. “Look how sweet you are, baby.” she cooed, bringing his face closer to nuzzle her nose against his. “What a cutie-pie!” she teased.

His eyes softened, tracing the features of her face. He wished he could pause time, sketch her in his journal. He’d just have to memorize how she looked, and try his best to replicate it later. Once he woke up, of course. From this dream.

She connected their lips and he groaned, not expecting the sudden contact again. Her hands moved from his face to wrap around his neck and scratch at his shoulders. It felt like she was sucking him in, how truly he could not pull away. 

He rubbed his hand up her thigh, pushing up her long skirt. Her skin was smooth under his rough hand, moving up to grab at the soft flesh of her ass, squeezing and pulling her up towards him. She arched slightly, and he grabbed his other hand behind her waist to pull her closer, closer still. 

Her breasts brushed against his chest, her nipples stiffening through the thin fabric. He nudged her head to the side with his nose, moving to kiss down her neck. She sighed in his ear, her hands busying themselves with his arms and shoulders. Drink made him sloppy in his movements, his tongue wetting her neck and chest as he made his way down to her breasts. He didn’t bother to tug the fabric down, instead mouthing over her nipple through the fabric, flattening and swirling his tongue into the mound. 

She whimpered, her hand moving up to tug at the hair on the back of his head, her other moving down to tug her shirt down under her tits. He parted from her while she did so, unable to help the smirk twisting his mouth at her desperation. 

“You like that, doll?” he muttered, taking in the sight of her bare breasts, her shirt bunched up underneath them. 

She stuttered out a response, arching up towards his mouth. Seeing her like this sent a surge of confidence through him. She was his. No one else downstairs got to see her like this. Just him. Only him. He brushed his lips against her nipple, watching her try to push into his mouth. 

He smiled against her, and she whined, tugging his hair. “Don’t tease me, Arthur.” she breathed. Fuck. He took it into his mouth, his hand encircling the other, twisting and toying with it. He would give her anything she wanted if it meant she would say his name like that again. 

He dragged his mouth down, not missing the soft moan she gave at the loss, cool air ghosting over her wet nipple. He kissed down her stomach, moving his hands down underneath her thighs, pushing them up, up. 

He bunched her skirt around her, and pulled back. His eyebrows jumped up his forehead in surprise. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. He looked up at her. 

Her face was reddened with embarrassment, her hands covering her cheeks. 

“Care to explain this?” he teased, running his hands down her thighs, closer, closer. 

She bit her lip. “I…” she looked away. 

He tilted his head, indicating he was waiting. 

“I… did say I was hopin’ to see you tonight, didn’t I?” she laughed breathily. 

His chest rumbled in approval, looking down at her exposed cunt, already wet without him touching it. “All this…” he drawled, glancing up at her, “for me?” 

She nodded, hiding slightly behind her hands. 

“Too kind to me, sweetheart,” he lowered himself, breathing her in. He kissed her thigh, feeling her twitch. “You shouldn’t have…” his breath ghosted between her legs, and she shuddered, anticipation building. He placed a few more open-mouthed kisses inside her thighs, feeling her arch into him, growing desperate. He took pity. 

Gripping her soft thighs in his hands, he licked one long stripe up her slit, gathering her wetness onto his tongue. She gasped, tightening her legs. He forced them open, holding them up. “Be good, princess, or I won’t be good to you.” he admonished, kissing her thigh. 

She shuddered. “Shit, yes, sorry yes, please, I’ll be good, please,” she breathed, trying to wiggle closer to his mouth. 

“Good girl,” he praised, flattening his tongue against her clit, lapping at it softly. She cursed, her hands fisting the bedding. He laved up her slit, once, twice, three times, before closing his lips around her bud, lightly sucking it in and swirling his tongue around it. 

“Fuck, Arthur,” she gasped, and he groaned against her, working his tongue inside of her, circling the entrance before pushing in, lapping up at her walls. He smoothed his hand up her thigh, reaching her clit with the rough pad of his thumb. He pressed gentle circles into it, his tongue spreading into her. She hissed, bucking into his ministrations. 

He pulled away, sliding his thumb down from her clit to her entrance, gently working his way inside. 

“Arthur…” she whined. 

“Yeah?” He teased, mimicking her tone, pushing his thick thumb further inside of her. 

She moaned, pushing herself onto him. “Arthur, please, I need more,” she breathed, meeting his gaze. “I need you .” 

He felt himself throb against his already-strained pants. He cursed under his breath, moving to unbuckle his pants. In his tunnel vision, he didn’t see her move from her position on the bed. 

Her hand came to rest over where his struggled with the buckle. “Let me, baby.” she cooed, moving his hands away. He blinked, letting her move him, watching her smaller hands undo his belt, working his pants down, taking him… oh. She took him out, palming his length. Shit, it looked bigger in her hand. Or maybe he hadn’t been this worked up in awhile. She ghosted her hand up and down, barely fluttering her thumb over the tip. His breath hitched, trying not to buck up into her hand, and failing, miserably. 

She grinned, looking up at him through her lashes. He reached out, stroking her cheek with his hand. “Hey, girl.” he breathed shakily, her hand jerking up suddenly. 

She giggled. “Hey, yourself, handsome.” 

He flushed, suddenly embarrassed to be on the other end. He looked away, only for a moment, before feeling a warm wetness engulf him. He gasped, whipping back to look down at her, half of his length having disappeared into her mouth. “Shit, darlin’,” he cursed, his accent dragging at the words. He bucked up into her lips, smoothing his thumb across her cheek. 

She hummed, the sound sending vibrations into him. “God, sweetheart, you’re bein’ so fuckin’ good to me right now,” he hissed, his hand reaching underneath to cup her jaw, squeezing it and guiding himself further in. 

She opened her mouth wider to take him. “Christ, you’re perfect,” he groaned, feeling her tongue slide up, her hand taking what her mouth couldn’t. 

She pulled off of him, kissing his tip, pumping her hand over the slick she had left. His breath shuddered. She smiled up at him. “You want more?” 

“God, yes.” he pushed her back onto the bed, muscling her onto her stomach, ass in the air. She squeaked in surprise, and he palmed her ass, squeezing it open to get a better look. God, she was practically dripping for him. He bit his lip, groaning. He rubbed himself up her slit, gathering the wetness there, rubbing it onto himself. “All this for me, darlin’?” he whispered, squeezing her hip. 

She wiggled herself back, trying to take him in. “Fuck, Arthur, it is, please, just fuck me already,” she whined, his tip sliding just past where she wanted him. 

“If the lady insists,” he teased, aligning himself with her, before softly, gently, pushing into her. 

She turned her face into the mattress, moaning, grabbing at the covers. “ Jesus, Arthur.” she groaned, her words muffled. 

He pressed in further. Halfway. “Can’t hear you, doll.” It was taking everything in him to go so slowly. 

She turned her head to the side, pushing back to take more of him in. He hissed, his hands twitching on her ass, squeezing her. 

He let out a breath, finally fully seated. He didn’t want to hurt her, he couldn’t. He gyrated against her, desperate for some kind of friction. A whine built in his throat. “Can-” 

Before he could ask, she forcefully pushed back into him, and he cursed, abandoning all hesitation and fucking into her. She cried out his name, arching against him. She was so tight and hot around him, her ass bouncing back against him with every thrust. It was all he could do to keep himself standing, his vision focused solely on where their bodies met. 

“Ar-thur,” she gasped, her breath shuddering, “God, God, you’re so big Arthur, Jesus Christ,” she moaned, her words starting to devolve into sounds with no meaning. 

He kept himself rooted deep within her, barely pulling out before slamming back in again, and again, and again. Her hands grasped for purchase anywhere, everywhere, on the bed, moaning noises that almost sounded like his name, pushing back into him with every thrust. 

Shit. Shit. He screwed his eyes shut. He wasn’t sure he could last much longer. 

“Miss,” he breathed her name. “I, shit, I-” he grabbed her thighs, his fingers bruising in their pressure, forcing her back into him. 

She whined at the pressure, growing limper. 

“Fuck! Fuck,” he yanked himself from her, grabbing at himself and finishing on her back. 

She had collapsed into the bed, giving a small satisfied moan. He breathed heavily, immediately grabbing a towel from the closet and cleaning her off. “S-Sorry, Miss.” he caught his breath, “Should’ve grabbed the towel before doin’ that on you.” He discarded the towel, placing a small kiss on her back, then immediately wondering if that was too much.

“What?” she said, muffled a bit by the covers. She turned, pushing herself up to sit and look at him. She frowned, reaching out and cupping his cheek. “You’ve got nothin’ to apologize for, cowboy.” Her frown twisted to a smile, “I oughta be thankin’ you for such a nice time.” she teased, pinching his cheek.

He suddenly grew bashful, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’ know about all that, but I definitely am thankin’ you.” Her face was flushed, her eyes bright, her lips slightly swollen… he had so many things to remember for his journal. “Best dream I’ve had in awhile,” he mumbled, moving to get under the covers. 

She joined him. “Dream?” she laughed, “You still drunk enough to think you’re dreamin’?”

He shrugged, opening his arms. She shifted into them, laying her head on his chest. “Could be stone cold sober and still think this was a dream.” He pecked her head. “I’ll miss you in the mornin’, girl.” 

She snorted, but snuggled into him anyway.

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

Arthur groaned, the light only hitting his closed eyes, but giving him a headache all the same. His back didn’t hold the ache it usually did, though, laying on this terrible cot. It was the small victories, he guessed.

He thought back to his dream last night, and sighed wistfully. What he would give to have that right now, his cock painfully hard this morning. He forced himself to sit up, rubbing at his eyes. 

A hand reached across his stomach, ghosting against his length. He jumped, looking over to his side. “Well, good morning to you, too.” she yawned, lightly playing with him, a teasing look in her eye. 

He blinked. He squinted.

He rubbed his eyes again.

“Holy shit.”

─ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

Bonus

The woman placed the guitar against the wall, happily engaged in conversation with some of the patrons closest to her stage. “Excuse me,” Charles butted in, stealing her attention from them. 

She turned to him, confused, but polite. “Yes, sir?”

He smiled kindly. “I’m sorry, Miss, but could you do me a favor?”

“Depends on the favor, don’t it?” she laughed.

He nodded in understanding, and pointed to Arthur, hunched over the bar. “Do you see that miserable man over there?” She looked, and stiffened in recognition. “He has been coming to this saloon every Thursday night, just for you.” he turned to her. 

A blush painted her cheeks. “You’re kiddin’.” she laced her fingers together nervously. “He’s never said anything to me.”

Charles shook his head. “My friend—he is shy with women.” he leaned in conspiratorially, “Especially women he likes.” The woman’s blush deepened, her gaze darting over to Arthur. He straightened up. “All I ask is that you talk to him. I’m afraid my friends and I have ruined his Thursday, and I’m sure that would cheer him up.”

She looked up at him, her eyes dancing. He could tell why Arthur was so taken with her. “He sounds sweet,” she spoke softly. “I would love to.” 

He thanked her, watching her make true on her word and walk over to Arthur. Charles noted his reddened ears and fumbling fingers and smiled. Hopefully, this would make up for it.

[redr0sewrites]

I just saw a Fanart of sad luci after his plans got reject by heaven and good lord I need some fluff. The look on his face was heartbreaking for me so I was wondering if ypu could write A lucifer x gn reader where reader comforts him and/or when he gets banished reader jumps after him?

Sorry if this is too much

AAAA I LOVE THIS IDEA!!!! i took my own little spin on this, so i hope u like it!!! also pls share the fanart nonnie, id love to see it!!!

🥀Cw: angst to fluff, Lucifer's trauma, crying

it had been so many years, and yet lucifer still remembered the feeling of falling. it was cold and dark and endless, with only the sounds of his own screams and flailing wings to accompany him as he descended from the heavens, hurdling down into the depths of hell. all he had wanted was to give the humans free will, but this is what they chose to do with it? it crushed lucifer's very soul, breaking all the resolve and respect he had for heaven in one fatal stab. with bleeding wings and a broken heart, he swore to forget about heaven, to move on. and yet, nights like these still caused him endless grief. however, lucifer had a hope, a light in the tunnel of darkness he had fallen into so long ago. he found you years ago, a mere sinner, and had been swept away almost instantaneously. despite being in hell, you seemed to shine brighter than anyone lucifer had ever met, and he was captivated instantly. everything about you was just so precious, and he loved you with all of his soul. but, with that love came worry. and worry turns into anxiety, which turns to fear, which turns to pain, all of which led to the distraught state he was in now.

soft, broken sobs accompanied by the rushing shower woke you from your sleep. it was late at night, too late to be awake- at least in your opinion, and the fiery skies of hell casted an eery red light through the window. turning in your shared bed, you immediately noticed the absence of your lover and sat upright, the exhaustion fleeing your body as you surveyed the room around you. the night was still, but not silent, and you heard it again. the sound of soft, muffled sobs coming from the bathroom. the shower was running as well, and light seeped from the crack beneath the door. it was apparent that lucifer was in there, but why he had decided to shower at such a time was beyond your understanding. standing up, you approach the door to bring your husband back to bed. with each step closer, your concern grows tenfold.

"luci?" you whisper, knocking on the door gently. immediately the sobs halt and you hear a broken gasp from inside the room. "lucifer, are you okay? if you don't respond i'm coming in," you murmur, slowly turning the door knob. with no response, you opened the door and stepped inside. you were greeted by the sight of lucifer, crouching on the floor of the shower, wings unfurled and shaking. from what you could see of his face that wasn't shielded by white feathers, tears trickled down his cheeks, and his eyes were puffy from crying. he turned away from you as you entered, curling into himself and pressing his wings tightly against his body. the shower was still running, the water cascading over his bare skin and spraying you slightly as you stepped closer. "luci.." you whisper, gently stepping even closer until you were practically in the shower. "please, i- i don't want you to see me like this..." his voice sounded miserable and he still refused to even look at you. the shower was starting to spray you now, and you were shocked to find that it was cold. you flinched in surprise, but stepped inside anyway. in one swift movement you turn the shower off, and a painful quiet floods the room in the wake of the water. the silence is deafening, and lucifer seems to be shrinking in on himself every passing second.

"lucifer.. what happened?" you weren't sure what to do, where to go, whether or not you should reach out and comfort him or step away. all you knew was that you couldn't leave him alone. lucifer took in a shaky breath, water droplets trickling off his wings as they unfurled ever so slowly. "... i don't know," he admitted, burying his head in his hands. "i was just taking a shower but for some reason the water just-" he paused, hiccuping and shivering softly before continuing. "it just ran cold- and i felt like i was falling again, i couldn't see you and i just-" he let out a defeated sigh, and his wings began to shake again. you watched as his shoulders began to quiver, and you realized he was crying again. "im sorry, i shouldn't- i shouldn't be telling you all of this, its foolish," lucifer whispered huskily. "i still think about falling, and everything that happened with heaven, even though i shouldn't. but every damn day i fear that theyre going to take you away, that- that they will try to crush all i have left.." lucifer began to shiver, and you kneeled down next to him on the shower floor. "lucifer, look at me." you whisper gently but firmly, and he slowly raises his head. his blonde hair is a mess, its soaked and ruffled and sticking to his forehead. his eyes are rimmed with red, and his cheeks and nose are flushed as tears and freezing water dry on his face. his gaze still refuses to meet yours, but at least you know hes listening.

"lucifer, nothing is going to happen to us. heaven doesn't want change, and heaven doesn't want war. we're safe here, and i'm always here for you. if anything happens, we will handle it together, but i need you to know that i'm on your side, okay?" lucifer nods, his watery eyes shifting to meet your gaze. you open your arms and he accepts your invitation, curling into your embrace and engulfing you both in his wings. you're now properly soaked, but you couldn't care less.

you don't know how long you spent sitting on the shower floor as lucifer rocks and cries in your arms, but you don't mind a bit. he's calmed down now, but you still card your hands through his hair and whisper sweet nothings in his ear. "why don't we go back to bed, hm?" you whisper, and he nods. you both stand, and lucifer heads into your bedroom to get dressed. you follow suite, your clothes fully soaked and practically freezing. after swiftly changing into a warmer set of pajamas, you beckon lucifer to bed. he meekly joins you, embarrassed at his own emotional state. you both settle into bed, wrapping you arms around eachother ss you nuzzle into the crook of his neck. "i'm... sorry about all that, and for waking you," he mumbles, and you shush him. "its okay darling, i promise. i'm always on your side, and im always here if you need me," you hum, pressing an appreciative kiss to his adams' apple. lucifer chuckles, kissing the top of your head and squeezing you tight. "the feeling is mutual my dear. i am... so incredibly lucky to have you. now, sleep well, okay?" lucifer whispers into thr darkness, rubbing the words i love you over and over into your back with his thumb. you mumble something unintelligible, your breathing evening out as sleep begins to overwhelm you. "mm... 'night, luci.." lucifer smiles, kissing your hair again. he hopes he can stay like this forever, with you safe in his arms. "goodnight my duckling, sleep well..."

OK THE WAY I ATE THIS UP IT GOT SO LONG AND FOR WHAT? i love him sooooo much yall im so normal? (also this note is for @milyki and milyki only but u are NOT allowed to read this fic or mention this to me irl bc i will die :)