X : LUNCH BREAK :*+

x : LUNCH BREAK :*+ﾟ

in which: you don't visit wriothesley during his lunch break after last night's argument, so he goes to the court of fontaine just to see you.

warnings: approx. 1.9k words, PURE FLUFF, gn!reader x pathetic and soppy and lovesick wriothesley, canon setting, reader works at the court of fontaine, post-argument so very minimal angst, probs not in character LOL

a/n: there's not a lot of content regarding fontaine or wriothesley rn so i apologise if this isn't completely in character. what i do not apologise for, however, is the urge to make him as lovesick as possible.

There is a notable tension in the Fortress of Meropide, and although a prison isn’t a place for rainbows and sunshine, today it feels especially devastating. It seems that the lord of the prison is the one responsible for it.

Brooding at his desk, Wriothesley glances occasionally at the clock on his desk, growing more and more impatient with each document he has to read through. He is waiting for something: a knock on his door. He is waiting for the call of his name, the reason for their interruption, then your name will reach his ears and an unmatched excitement will bloom in his chest. Then you’ll slip through the doors with lunch for two, he’ll pull out a chair for you right beside him, and mask professionalism that betrays the eagerness your presence always brings out. 

Your absence must be because of the argument that happened last night. One that remained unresolved because he went to bed before you, too furious to try to talk it out. Yet, when Wriothesley woke in the morning, a wave of guilt washed over him when you weren’t pressed against him like usual. Instead, you were on the other side of the mattress, further than an arm’s length away whilst turned away from him and Fontaine’s chilly mornings had never felt colder.

If he didn’t need to go to work much earlier than you, he would have waited until you had woken up to leave, but being the lord of the Fortress of Meropide meant that his presence was demanded. So, with a lingering kiss to your cheek and then your temple, he leaves into the dewy mornings of Fontaine, looking forward to his lunch break that the two of you often share together.

Except now, lunch is almost over and there hasn’t been a knock on his door. No one has called his name- not people he cared about, at least. You haven’t slipped through the heavy set of doors. You haven’t come down from the Court of Fontaine to visit him, and Wriothesley’s patience is thinning.

His fingers itch with the need to hold you, to tuck you close to his chest and just keep you there for a few moments as time pass by. Especially after last night, Wriothesley needs you now more than ever. 

By the time there’s only one hour left in the work day, he snaps. Stands up from his seat with an unmatched sense of fervour because of the unnervingly quiet day and snatches his coat from the hanger, leaving documents unread as he makes a beeline for the exit of the prison. The guards listen attentively to Wriothesley’s final commands for the day in his absence and once the information is cemented, the dark-haired is off without another second wasted.

You, on the other hand, sit in your office drowned in piles upon piles of papers. Wriothesley is a passing thought every now and then, the memories of last night’s harsh argument settling like weights in your stomach. You miss Wriothesley, very dearly, and all you want is to settle things with him. However, the image of his furious eyes and clenched jaw terrifies you beyond belief, you’re not even sure if he’ll be calmer by the time you get home, so for the first time ever, you dread the idea of going home. 

What you are completely unaware of, however, is your lover that is storming your way, desperate to receive the medicine that will cure his moodiness and irritation. 

The knock on your door distracts you from the piles of papers on your desk. 

“Who is it?” you call out, voice reverberating around the spaciousness of your office.

“It’s Wriothesley, can I come in?” His tone is sharp and leaves no room for you to reject him, but the mere sound of his voice causes you to stiffen, grip on your pen tightening as the papers before you lay forgotten. 

What is Wriothesley doing here? He normally never comes up to the Court of Fontaine just to see you because leaving the prison would be far too neglectful. There was also half an hour before he was done for the day, so could there be official business that needs to be discussed? Something urgent, perhaps? 

If it was urgent, then why come to you and not Monsieur Neuvillette- or even Lady Furina?

“Yeah- yes, you can come in,” you mutter.

When the door clicks open, Wriothesley practically barges through, door shutting behind him as he marches towards you. Getting up from your chair, you’re frightened with anticipation due to  how intense his stance is. 

“Is something the matter?” You begin, panic seeping into your voice as he pauses before you, determination setting his eyes ablaze as he eyes you down like prey. “Wriothesley, you’re scaring me, did something happen at the prison-”

“Where were you at lunch?” He demands.

You blink. “Excuse me?”

“Why didn’t you come visit?” 

“Is… is why you came up here? To ask why I didn’t visit you during lunch?”

He nods, expression stern as usual save for a small pout.

“I was swamped with work,” you half-lie, gesturing to the desk behind you and although there is clear evidence on your table through the form of stacked folders and paper, a storm of uncertainty brews in his blue eyes. “I couldn’t visit if I wanted to get these done, I apologise.”

The dark-haired frowns. “Is that it?”

“Yes. That’s all.” His eyebrows furrow, creating crease marks in his forehead that you want to kiss away, alleviating his worries, but you hold yourself back from doing so in fear that Wriothesley does not want you touching him. 

However, a switch is flicked when Wriothesley’s stern expression softens, melting into one resembling a kicked dog. “So you’re not upset with me?” 

“Oh, is that also on your mind?”

“Of course, I don’t like it when you’re upset with me,” your lover mutters, looking away bashfully to conceal the reddening of his cheeks. “You aren’t though, right?”

“No, not upset. Scared, maybe, but definitely not upset.” 

His eyes are glossy when he looks back at you. “Scared, why are you scared?” 

“W-we didn’t end on a good note last night,” you rub your wrist nervously. “I didn’t know if you would be happy with seeing me. On top of that, you can be really intimidating sometimes, so admittedly, I was a little scared to come see you just in case that you did not want me there.”

Wriothesley visually deflates with your last statement, shoulders dropping and eyes glistening as he murmurs a small, pathetic, “is that so?”

He wonders what part about him ever made it seem like he never wants you beside him, and the thought that he had frightened you enough to prevent you visiting him is an upsetting one. You must see it in his eyes with the way you frantically begin to explain yourself. 

“Oh no, darling, I didn’t mean it like that-”

He turns his head away again, disappointed in himself. It’s one thing for his prisoners to consider him intimidating but it’s another for you, his own lover, to think so as well, and the thought that he had scared you creates insurmountable shame to swell within him. Yet, his whirlwind of anxieties ceases when your hand goes to cup his cheek, gently prompting him to look at you. Then, a kiss is pressed to the corner of his lips, and his heart skips a beat at the sensation, love blocking his airways when you pull away to smile up at him. 

“As scary as you might be, oh great lord of the Fortress of Meropide, I also know you will never hurt me,” you reassure. “Rather, I feel safest when I’m around you, please never doubt that.”

Wriothesley sighs, hand snaking up to grip your waist and pull you closer to him. “Thank you, my love. But I beg, even if you assume I am upset with you, please keep visiting my office during lunch, it is the part of the day I look forward to most.”

“If that is your request then maybe you just need to be good and listen to me instead of arguing until your head pops off,” you tease, patting his face twice and he huffs before muttering an ‘understood’. Anything to see you. “Is there something else you need from my office?”

“No, just wanted to see you,” he looks at the brown paper bag in his hands. “I brought you lunch, just in case you didn’t eat.” 

“Wriothesley,” you melt, “how thoughtful of you. I’ll make sure to eat it when I finish reading those contracts.”

“You should eat now, though. Don’t drown yourself in work, it’s not healthy.”

“I wish it were that easy, but these piles were dumped on my desk this morning and were assigned to be done by the end of the week.”

The hand that was on your waist comes up to gently hover over your cheek and Wriothesley studies you, icy eyes hardening due to the fatigue present in your expression. You grab his wrist, trying to diverge his attention, but you should know better than assuming that your wellbeing isn’t of utmost importance to him. “Unacceptable, I should have a word with your supervisor-”

“-no, no, Wriothesley! I insist, this is manageable.”

He frowns, deep and serious before surrendering to your pleas. “Fine, but if it doesn’t get better by the end of the week, then I will be interfering.”

“If you do so, my supervisor will be too scared to come in for a month,” you squeeze his wrist and gently guide it away from your face, ignorant to how your neglect for your own health hurts Wriothesley as well. He knows you love your job, but he still thinks that you deserve to live life carefree, that you should get everything you want without ever lifting a finger. “It’s alright, dear, you mustn’t worry about me when your work is a thousand times more stressful.”

“Impossible.” He worries about you every second of the day. Telling Wriothesley to stop fretting over you would be like telling him to stop breathing. “Now eat.” 

You yelp when he pulls you towards your chair, sitting you down. From the paper bag, he takes out a sandwich, one that you recognise is from one of fontaine’s favourite cafés, and he carefully unwraps it before raising it to your mouth.

“Wriothesley… this is a little embarrassing,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around yourself.

He doesn’t say anything, just persistently stares at you, gaze intense enough for you to give in. As you lean in to take the first bite, you are bashfully looking away from your lover, who wears a pleased expression, satisfied with the fact that you’re letting him take care of you. 

The tension from last night’s dispute hasn’t completely melted away, there are still things that need to be discussed calmly, but as you keep trying to push his hand away and battle Wriothesley’s indestructible stubbornness, he knows it will work out in the end. You love him and he loves you, and if you ever forget to visit him during lunch break again, then he’ll have to tear himself away from the prison and come up, just to meet you.

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

I was waiting for this scene at the end of Fionna and Cake.

For Tuna, Choose your Ending

Summary:Various characters x gn!reader Grim has made his decision. But now you must make yours. The time has come to end this.

Good End

Bad End

Neutral End

Girlies End

Daddy End

True End

CC

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Can I ask angst when they break up with reader to try date other person just to notice they still in love with reader, but now reader is with someone else (i hope is not confuse) with Jade, Floyd, Vil, and Leona?

A/N: normally, I'm not a huge fan of writing angst...but I had way too much fun with this 😁

3k followers masterlist

"I've got everything I can from you. So it's time for me to let you go. Good luck to you."

Jade said it with a cruel smile on his face, a smile you had grown quite familiar with the six months you'd been dating. In pure confusion, you'dasked him to clarify what the fuck he just told you. He bowed politely, and gave an "of course" before saying it in an even colder way.

He had used all your connections. He had gotten all the information he could with your relationship. So it was over.

Naturally, this was a shock, and absolutely devastating. But he didn't care about your dropped jaw, or the tears slowly starting to pick up in speed as they trickled down your face. You left the room, and that was that.

He returned to his room to call his next target, a first year student who was a prince of a small nation. As he sent a quick message, Floyd stopped tossing the basketball he was playing with, and asked, "If you're finally done with Y/N, can I have them now?"

Floyd had been in love with you months before Jade was even interested in you as a target, but had held back upon both Jade and Azul's insistence. While his brother was one of them, he had nothing but innocent puppy love for you. A part of Jade figured you'd say no to him, considering they shared a face. So he gave his consent, not even thinking twice.

Three months later, he watched you drop Floyd at the lounge, and press a kiss to his cheek, before slowly pulling away and leaving him to his work. His date, the Prince, asked him if everything was alright, and it was only then he realized how stiff he was. He smiled and gave some excuse that he bought with zero effort.

And while his date continued to prattle on and on about things he should never share with someone he's only been dating for three months, Jade found himself unable to do his job for the first time.

Floyd was happier than he'd been in years, and consistently able to do his job, on the promise of you giving him goodbye kisses. You were happier than Jade had ever seen you. The love in your eyes was something deeper, something stronger, than anything he'd ever seen when you looked at him. And something in him broke when he realized that. 

You never looked at him that way. Was it because a part of you always knew he was using you? Was it because you sensed he didn't feel that way about you? Or was it something worse?

Was he never as good as Floyd?

"I'm bored," He groaned, standing up from the place he was resting his head on your lap.

"Okay, what do you want to do then?" You asked him.

"Nah. I'm bored of this," he gestured between the two of you.

A part of you had known this was coming. Not because you'd wanted to know, but because your friends had warned you. Especially Riddle, who had evidently been through his own relationship of sorts with Floyd. But you were hoping they were wrong. Your Floyd would never hurt you like that. 

Still, even you couldn't ignore the way he watched the exchange student from Noble Bell. The way he was handsier with them than he'd ever been with you. The way he whispered in their ear when he thought you weren't looking. The way he'd nearly kissed him, but stopped at the last second when he realized you were there.

Instead of letting him repeat it, you stood up, and left your own living room, hellbent on reaching Heartslaybul, where you were in for an "I told you so" speech, but if you sat through that you'd get pity cuddles. You heard him call after you, angry that he wasn't getting the last word, but you couldn't stay there anymore.

Riddle knew when he saw the tears on your cheeks. He sighed, and instead of a lecture, he opened his arms to you, letting you sob in his shoulder, as he gently rubbed your back.

A day later Floyd was dating the exchange student, and all your Heartslaybul friends were helping you avoid the two of them. You'd lost a boyfriend, but had been made aware of the best support system in any world.

Months had passed, and you could almost forget how Floyd had seemingly used you for a fun time. Especially when the resident Queen's arms were always open to you, and his eyes always had hearts in them when they looked at you. A man who would give you the larger half of the strawberry tart, despite you knowing full well how much things like that meant to him.

Floyd, meanwhile, was bored again. He had thought he was bored of you. But after the months of not even seeing a glimpse of you, and doing everything he could to get any emotional stimulation from the exchange student who hadn't realized what he was getting into when the hot second year had slid into his life, he was realizing his blunder. There was just nothing but physical attraction, and even that was fading quickly for Floyd.

But you'd always given him the stimulation he needed. You were always fun. You were always adorable. So squeezable. But now goldfishie was the one squeezing you. He wanted to squeeze goldfishie until he popped. You were his to squeeze!

But when he saw you resting on Riddle's shoulder, his chest ached as he realized he didn't deserve to.

You and Rook had always joked that he'd steal your boyfriend one day. Vil always rolled his eyes when the two of you would snicker about it, and give you a soft kiss on the cheek, while  smacking the back of Rook's head.

So when the two of them had stood nervously before you, tightly gripping each other's hands, you were devastated, but not surprised.

You didn't want to hear their explanations or excuses. Sevens, they tried, but you knew it would be better not to hear it. You could feel vindicated, not giving them a chance to apologize for hurting you, and it would also spare you the painful details that would only break your heart further.

So after shutting the door in their faces, you'd called a certain someone for a sugar pick me up. Trey arrived with a three tiered cake, and held you gently as you cried and told.him your woes. It wasn't until you started dropping self deprecating comments about how you'd never been worthy of Vil, how you'd always known he would leave you one day, that he shuts you up with a kiss. His jaw drops and he apologizes immediately, telling you he knew it was way too soon to be making any move, he just couldn't stand you talking about yourself that way. It wasn't fair to you.

When he leaves, he apologizes again, and tells you not to worry about him. If you don't see him that way, he'll be fine. If you do….take your time. He's willing to wait for you to be okay again.

And he really is willing to wait. And when you tell him you're willing to give the two of you a shot, a month later, he smiles softly and offers to start with a simple cooking date….literally right then because he has an unbirthday party he has to prepare for, but he also wants to be around you.

While you are slowly slipping into a life of domestic bliss, the cracks are beginning to show with Rook. Anytime Vil isn't perfect, he hears about it, and now….well, Vil isn't stupid enough to miss the way Rook's eye has been wandering over to Neige.

He didn't have to be perfect with you. As he eats the flavorless salad Rook made for him, he watches Trey feed you a chocolate covered strawberry, and playfully kiss away the chocolate that stains the corner of your mouth. Rook says something bitter when he notices, and he always notices, indicating his hypocritical jealousy. 

It's amusing, in a painful way, how Rook pretends he wants what you and Vil used to have. But what he really wants is to keep his pretty doll on its shelf, and all to himself.

When he'd first expressed interest in you, you had asked him. "Will I be pushed to the side in favor of an arranged marriage, or even just someone with more power?"

And he'd laughed. Nah. No one wanted to be trapped in a marriage with him (his parents had tried), and he didn't want more power. He wanted you.

But his pride was something even he couldn't get past. And when a fae duchess with similar image issues in her own nation had come to him, proposing a marriage of convenience, he had agreed without a thought.

"You're overreacting. We can still be together.' "I don't want- no, I can't be your side piece." "For sevens sake, she has a whole harem at her disposal. It's a marriage in title only." "I don't want that. What happened to what we had being enough?" "You're being selfish, and childish." "I'm being selfish? We could settle down in luxury with what you have!" "If you can't see fit to share me, only nominally, mind you, then go." "I will!"

He was furious. You knew his life. You knew a marriage like this could change life for the both of you. What the fuck were you on about?

Over the next few months he'd begun the courtship process with the duchess, going to boring political events to cement his position within that fae court. He kept expecting you to come crawling back. He'd sneer at you and make you prove you deserved him. At least, that's what he thought at first. But the more time passed, the more he just wanted you back in his arms where you belonged. He even has arranged for his room in the fae kingdom to have an extra large bed, so that you would always be comfortable.

One morning, he heard murmurs throughout Savannahclaw. He saw the side glances, and the hasty hushes as he passed. And he knew.

He stormed over to Diasomnia. Surely you were trying to make him hurt. And the best way to do that was for you to start seeing Draconia.

But when he started yelling at the lizard, he had nothing but confusion on his face. Yes, he found you very attractive, but no, he wasn't courting you. Leona was about to yell at him, tell him he couldn't lie to him, when you entered the room…on Vanrouge's arm.

Your eyes widened, and flickered between him and the lizard, before you groaned and rolled your eyes. You whispered something to Lilia, and the two of you were about to leave when he got the urge to yell at you. 

"That scrawny twerp will never be able to love you like I can!"

You slowly turned to look at him, and sneered, before saying, "Thank God for that."

Not sure if you’re taking request still but if you are was wondering if you could right abt reader hiding their fever from Tighnari or Diluc (or both)

𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑

synopsis: in which you try to hide your sickness from them, just trying to stay out of their way, except it doesn’t quite go to plan

characters: heizou, thoma, tighnari, dottore, and childe x gn!reader (separately)

warnings: angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, descriptions of being sick, a tiny bit of swearing, established relationships

notes: thanks for the request! i tried pretty hard to come up with something for diluc but i wasn’t able to so i just did tighnari. i also added in some other characters, hope that’s okay :) also reminder that this is a relatively old request and i’m not actively taking requests!

heizou:

you hadn’t intended to ever hide your sickness from him, honestly

you woke up with the incoming feeling of what you assumed was a fever. your temperature was high and you felt fatigued

still, when your red haired boyfriend came prancing into your shared bedroom excitedly shaking your shoulders begging you to join him on his day off, you felt as though you couldn’t refuse

he was just so happy and you didn’t want to ruin that, not when he had been so stressed recently

walking around ritou with him seemed to be alright

the weather wasn’t bad and he even took you to a few shops for some lunch and souvenirs

but as the time passed, your head felt dizzier and your eyes stung a bit. the red of the maple trees was blending with the blue of the sky and the shops around began to spin

“are you okay?” he had asked worriedly, noticing your eyes began to droop and the overall fatigue you seemed to be experiencing

he put a hand to your forehead and noticed the burning sensation and light sweat building quickly

“shit, you’re sick? why didn’t you say anything?” he asked as he began to rush you home. his arms were around you, steadying you against him

“you were so excited,” you mumble against his shoulder, “i didn’t wanna ruin that, but it looks like i did anyway.”

the detective’s heart ached as the words left your mouth, he couldn’t believe you would say something like that, “please don’t say that again. your health matters way more than my fun, don’t ever forget that.”

when you got home, you fell asleep quickly, all snuggled up in the warm covers

heizou dimmed the lights and brought some medicine and water to place on the table next to you for when you woke up

as he got in the bed with you, he made sure to pull the blankets snuggly over you and bring you closer to his chest and placing a small kiss to your forehead

“i love you,” he whispered before shutting his eyes and holding you close.

thoma:

thoma hadn’t asked you to help him with chores, but here you were…helping him with chores

although the weather was beautiful, it was spring and in influx of new leaves and all sorts of pollen was in the air and on the floors of the estate

you were kind enough to help your boyfriend out with all of the spring cleaning to prevent him from getting stressed

unfortunately, it only lead to you getting stressed and consequently sick

you had already felt the oncomings of sickness for the past week

from various headaches, lack of sleep, the inability to eat, all the way to a runny nose and sore throat — you knew it was only going to worsen, but still clung to the hope it was just spring allergies

still, you chose to help him anyway while also leaving out the details of your sickness

about two hours had passed since your last break before fatigue hit you hard. the rake you had been using to gather fallen flowers was now leaned against the wall

your arm was resting against the railing to balance yourself as you sat on the small set of stairs under the shade

“thoma,” you called out to him through shut eyes and rushed breaths, “i’m so sorry, i- i don’t think i can help you anymore.”

he ran to you almost instantly, dropping everything in his hands to check if you were okay

when he saw you weren’t, he rushed you inside to your guys’ shared room

“oh archons, i’m so sorry i didn’t notice! you really didn’t have to help me if you weren’t feeling good,” he apologized, urgently trying to help you

it was like that for hours after

he was constantly apologizing for not noticing and you could tell he truly felt bad

he even brought you fresh homemade soup and anything else you so desired. you name it, he got it

at the end of the day, he fell asleep alongside you, swearing to stay by you until you felt better.

he didn’t even care if he got sick. if it was for you, it was worth it

tighnari:

tighnari had been frustrated all week

you had noticed that almost instantaneously and even if you hadn’t, all of his grumbling, dark eye bags (which he never seemed to have), and the distance he was placing between you would have made it blatantly obvious

he didn’t seem himself as of late and that made you feel a bit down yourself

eventually it got to the point where his mood was dampening everyone else’s and you had fallen ill

the forest watcher was so stressed that he hadn’t even noticed

you had tried to tell him when he requested you help him with collecting samples of withered areas, but he was quick to shut you down before hearing you out, requesting that you, “please just help me without complaining.”

under normal circumstances, you would have told him off and not allowed him to dictate over you like that, but you weren’t feeling well at all and didn’t have the energy to argue

besides, it would only be an hour and a half right? you figured you could get through that

you should’ve known what you were getting into. your boyfriend always took longer than expected, though you hadn’t expected an hour and a half to turn into two, which then turned into three

when you realized the time, you began to ask to go home and just come back tomorrow. it was getting dark and was definitely a reasonable request of him

but tighnari wasn’t in the mood and he brushed you off, choosing not to answer your question

moments later, his equipment fell and broke — almost as if karma had struck him

he was never one to lose his cool so easily, but here he was yelling at nothing and kicking his bag over

when you had asked him to calm down, he refused and snapped at you too.

he didn’t mean it — you knew that, but you couldn’t help but feel like he did. like he meant to snap at you and that all his anger was somehow your fault

mixed with the fatigue and shivers from your now fully developed fever, your eyes drooped and you fell forward into unconsciousness

hours had passed before you awoke. but when you did, you found tighnari right by your side handing you a cup of water and some of his homemade medicine

“i’m so sorry,” he started quickly, stumbling over his words as he tried to apologize, “i was so selfish forcing you to go with me. i mean, what kind of boyfriend doesn’t even notice when their partner is sick?”

you cough before responding, “you were a little harsh, but it’s okay now. you were just stressed and no one was around to help you out when you needed it, so don’t feel too bad okay?”

he nodded sadly and fell against your lap, still guilt-stricken by his lack of awareness and clouded mind from just a mere few hours ago

he would take the next week off he decided. taking care of you was more important and he had a lot of making up to do

dottore:

you weren’t surprised the doctor had failed to recognize the fact that you were sick

while he was a doctor, he wasn’t one that cared for his patients or anyone besides himself

when he had called you to his lab early one morning to aid him in some lab work, you knew there was no chance of it ending well

you loved him, you really did, but your boyfriend was pushy. and when his mind was set on something, it became the most important thing to him

today he had asked for your assistance in his lab for whatever new experiment he had conjured up this time

initially, you refused as you weren’t feeling well and didn’t have the energy

but, as aforementioned, dottore is a stubborn man and wouldn’t take no for an answer

“dottore, i’m not feeling we—“ you tried to argue with him

“ah ah, i do not care what excuse you have this time. i need your help and only your help.”

he didn’t even hear you out

so you sucked it up and helped him

about an hour had passed when you began feeling strained

back and forth of reaching for different materials and finding information for him became too much

“can we just take a break?” you breathed out heavily, immune system weak from your sickness

“no, what did i tell you? it is imperative that we do not stop until this is finished,” he stops for a moment, tone softening as he turns to you, “i’ll take you out to that place you’ve been wanting to try later, i promise. just, help me with this and we can go.”

you smile at the offer, happy he was finally making the time to go out with you, but it wasn’t enough

as soon as he asked for the next object, your dizziness kicked in as your neck craned to see it up on the high shelves of his lab

and the next thing dottore heard was a thud with you on the ground

“dottore… i can’t— i’m so sorry,” tears pool at your eyes as your fever worsens

he helps you up with a stern look, his arms wrapped around yours as he pulls you closer to inspect your face, “why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

“are you serious? i did tell you! you didn’t listen to me,” you exclaim

dottore softens in the way he only does around you, quietly offering you an apology and his coat to warm up your shivering body “i apologize, my love. i should not have been so neglectful of my own partner.”

he’s careful as he carries you to your shared bed and wraps you up:

“how about that restaurant? i’ll pick up whatever you want.”

childe:

sometimes childe can be a literal child. you knew that when the two of you began dating. sometimes you minded, other times you didn’t

he had a way of nagging when he wanted things and whining when he didn’t get them

you hadn’t gotten out of bed all morning and childe was getting impatient, hoping you would spar with him today for fun

you didn’t bother to tell him you were sick, thinking that he’d eventually realize later in the day

but childe was having one of those days and didn’t have a care in the world for anyone but himself

he came in to your shared room and collapsed on you, completely missing the pained grunt you let out as complaints flew left and right out of his mouth

things like: “spar with me, please!” and “c’mon we haven’t challenged each other in so long!” among many other complaints

he was right, it had been along time. and while you didn’t exactly want to spar with him today, you figured if you just indulged him for one round he would let it go

so you got up and got your equipment desperately trying to ignore the pounding of your headache

childe was beaming with excitement as he kissed your cheek and ran out to grab his equipment

when you got outside to join him, the chilly wind of snezhnaya bit at your skin and made your nose run faster than it had been before

childe quickly went in for a few hits, you dodged them and countered him quickly

it seemed to increase his determination as he charged at you effectively hitting you in the side

you didn’t let it affect you too much, aside from a bit of coughing which your boyfriend had chalked up to being from the impact of the hit

you had only lasted ten minutes longer before he landed one last hit, knocking you to the ground

“oh, c’mon! that one wasn’t even that bad. don’t tell me you can’t handle a hit that weak!” he laughed, just teasing you

you bent over on your hands and knees, violently coughing as tears poured out from your eyes

“hey hey hey, what’s wrong?” childe panicked as he dropped to his knees next to you with one hand placed on your back to support you

his hand reached your forehead, feeling a burning sensation, “woah, you’re burning up! why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

“you were—“ you were cut off by your coughs, “so excited to spar. i figured if i just indulged you for a round or two i’d be fine…”

“hey, you didn’t have to do that,” he said softly, “i would’ve understood if you just told me. i care more about you than fighting, you know that.”

childe picked you up quickly and brought you back inside your shared home and to your bed, wrapping you up cozily under the covers before joining you

“childe, no— you’ll get sick,” you tried to push him away.

he smiled and firmly placed a kiss on your lips,“oh c’mon, when have i ever cared about that?”

tryst, too tempest

Icarus fell for loving the Sun.

You will, for loving your lover.

▸ trueform!sukuna x wife!reader; 1.1k wc; comprises of elements inspired by the tale of 'hades and persephone' & 'fall of icarus'; warning: sukuna is sukuna, so expect the expected [mentions of violence, murder, cannibalism]; warning 2.0: the reader is not very keen to leave or not love her husband; uraume is the BEST WINGPERSON none of you two ever deserved but still got; FLUFF & ANGST & A MADLY DEVOTED LOVE YOU AND SUKUNA FEEL FOR EACH OTHER

▸ belongs to the series 'mine? yes, mine.' – same universe as the work 'six seeds, like rubies...' — but you can treat this as a stand-alone fic if you wanna!

▸ i don't own the characters, the image or the divider used. please don't plagiarize or translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

Foul winds howl through the land, the first year of your life as one Ryomen Sukuna's wife.

Servants cower before you the moment your shadow falls within their field of vision, yet their gaze stays steeped in pity and envy the entire time it remains trained on your feet. Grocers mumble to one another, eyes looking away when you move to look at the things in their shops. Even the very flora and fauna, you loved so much growing up, writing poems on them from the day you knew how to pen a poem– even the same flora and fauna feels so foreign to you—

"You do realize your importance to Master, don't you?"

Uraume's quiet question floats in through your thoughts, much akin a gentle breeze creating small ripples over the water surface. You smile. "Given how I haven't been eaten by him or sent to be murdered by his subordinate curses, I think I do."

Emotion, too similar to humor, flits across the mien of your husband's loyal follower — you decide not to think much of it. Too many days of having only them as someone to speak to, outside of requesting for a second serving of the soup or asking for the cost of yukata, has led to you imagining a smile on a person who is famous for their poker face. Shaking your head, you return to your poems, the quill fluttering over the roll of parchment you found lying at the breakfast today morning, and let out a content sigh — only for your peace of mind to be broken by the bursting of a guard into the garden, appearing too terrorstruck to utter a single coherent word.

It takes you nothing save one glance, moving from him to Uraume to your ink-stained fingers, before you find yourself keeping the papers on the ground beside and rising, feet breaking into a hasty giddy run down the corridors of the palace to the throne room where, certainly enough–

"I was under the impression you've run away in the extra while I spent sleeping, wife."

The world around you comes to a dead stop as the visage of Sukuna comes into your line of sight; you feel your heart skip two beats then begin a thundering rhythm against your ribcage.

Four years ago, if someone were to tell you there is someone who is going to free you from the gilded cage you were forced to call 'home', is going to share with you his name and is going to be the reason you will ponder the meaning of love, you would have given them a second of your time before walking away with a polite excuse.

One year before, if someone were to tell you there is someone who is going to free you from the gilded cage you were forced to call 'home', is going to share with you his name and is going to be the reason you will ponder the meaning of love, you would have huffed a quiet laugh. The first two have already come to pass (with too many lives lost and too many lives threatened) — yet the very last prediction? You would have considered it to be highly improbable, if not outright impossible.

Yet, now, if someone were to tell you the same three things, you think you wouldn't have shown much of a reaction. You would have simply turned to that 'someone' mentioned in the prediction, and gazed and gazed and gazed–

"I left the roll of parchment you bought for Mistress at the breakfast table, just as you asked, Master," Uraume's voice cuts your thoughts into half and you twist to catch them offer you both a very deep bow before hurrying out, to the left towards the kitchen, four baskets full of radishes in their arms.

You look back at your husband, only to find him seated stiffly on his throne, eyes landing anywhere but you. Stifling a giggle, you tilt your head to the side.

"Why do you act so embarrassed, my king?" you ask, stepping a timid step towards him, then another. Gleaming ruby eyes dart to your face then to your approaching feet. Something tingles through your veins. Climbing the stairs leading to him, you hum, smiling, "I don't think it's embarrassing – quite the opposite, in fact. To me, giving one's wife a thoughtful gift as that... it seems quite adorable to me."

"Be careful of your words, woman," the King of Curses growls, rising and taking a large menacing step in your direction; your smile grows intentionally too innocent, which does apparently nothing to quell his increasing fury: the precise outcome you've been wishing so fervently for.

He pulls you by the waist, flush to himself and lowers his lips close to yours, tantalizingly so. He smells very strongly of those bath salts you bought from a travelling merchant three moons back; faintly of blood and death, of the priest he diced last night after dinner — you wonder if you're worthy to be called a human, after finding the curse you have sworn yourself to forever, so terribly dear despite these.

Certainly not — but you reckon you're too far gone to care anyways, so you stop wondering such things – and lift yourself on your tiptoes to brush your lips with your husband's, then pull away a touch, words leaving your lips in a breathy whisper.

"What if I'm not careful with my words? What will you do then, hm? Will you devour me like the monster everyone says you are? Or, will you throw me away like everyone warns me you will one day– when you find someone prettier, smarter, better than me, huh?"

Two moments pass in pin-drop silence between the two of you.

Barking a noisy guffaw, Sukuna weaves his fingers through your hair, still damp from the bath you took a short time ago, and plants a deep kiss to your lips. Then parts his lips from yours, although a mere hair's breadth away, and grins, features teeming with that exotic species of malevolence you never saw yourself regarding to be charming.

Until your gaze met with his, one fated evening, that is.

Your nails dig crescents into the broad muscles of his shoulders.

Your lover's grin sharpens. "Let time tell the tale— yes, my queen?"

The next morning, you find a dozen or so heads waiting for you at the breakfast table, severed by a neat slice at the root of their neck– eyes and mouths which once looked down on your wedding with the King, frozen forever now in a scream of terror.

Forsaking the wonted theme of nature, you decide to pen a poem on scathing, soothing love, instead.

or... everyone: your husband is a despicable monster!!! you: uh-huh everyone: he might leave you for someone better!!! you: uh-huh everyone: you better not stay in this union anymore. you: nuh-nuh. i'm so gonna stay and love and fuck my hubby <3

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