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envy-of-the-apple · 4 months ago

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Rewound Infinitely

Gojo Satoru x Reader

Part one: Infinite Rewind

Synopsis: A decade later, Gojo has finally caught up with you. Weddings take a lot of planning.

Word Count: 8.6k

(Warnings: flashbacks to gore, not healthy trauma coping, thats all tho! pretty wholesome compared to last time)

Some things about him had changed within a decade, while others stayed the same.

Even taller than you last saw him. His hair has been styled, no longer ivory chaos. You can't see a single blemish or mark despite the decade of fighting curses. He's as flawless as the first day you met him. No glasses; the entirety of his blue keeps you still.

You've seen this Satoru before: Suguru's memories, with glassy eyes, ruffled ivory hair, and an empty expression. Seeing such beauty yourself when you're standing right in front of him, it's breathtaking.

Even the lights of Tokyo couldn't compare to him.

You say nothing. You can't. Your mouth is dry and pointless. You're not even sure where to even begin. In front of a God, your insecurities pile up all over again. Is he disappointed by you? How could you explain everything that you put him through? Your mouth opens, you think you're about to speak: an apology, a plea, anything-

"—You're late!"

His hands reach up to squish your cheeks together. It was so unexpected, you squeak.

And Gojo Satoru is pouting.

It's a wave. The ocean of anxiety, guilt, and fear crashes into the shore. You feel nothing but indignant rage at the brat who clearly hadn't matured one damn bit.

"I'm not late!" You hiss back. "If anything, you're the one who's late. I was—"

You're cut off by his laugh, light and happy.

He isn't offended by your outburst; he's overjoyed about it. His cheeks are dabbed with pink, and his lips are so wide that he's showing his teeth. Your anger wanes when he pulls you into his chest, arms circling around you. You can smell his cologne when he buries his face into your hair.

"There you are. Finally." He melts into you like butter. "I missed you, Greeny."

His voice is soft, quiet, and sincere. You can't do anything but hug him back, allowing him to sink.

"I missed you, too." You whisper.

He hums. Apart from the wind, it's quiet. He's clinging onto you as though he's afraid once he lets go, you'll disappear forever. His behavior is justified. You were constantly meddling with his life before whisking away. Just this once, you allow him to keep you within his reach, letting the cat catch the canary.

"This is sweet 'n all. But we're actually getting late." He mutters. "Also, we gotta do something about your clothes."

"Hm?"

One moment, you're atop the Tokyo Skybridge; the next, you're standing in an upscale boutique.

Satoru skips away from you. Meanwhile, you're frozen, brain scrambling to catch up with what happened. Teleport. He can teleport now.

"Mr. Gojo, sir." A voice calls. An older woman smiles at him.

He gives her a casual wave before gesturing over to you. "Mind giving this one a dress? It's a black-tie event. We don't have a budget."

The woman turns to you with a smile. "Of course, sir."

What?

Dazed, you pliantly follow the woman into the back of the boutique. Her hold on you is gentle as she ushers you through the hall with one hand on either side of your shoulders. When you look back, Satoru is waving with a wide grin. The door shuts behind you.

"Do you have any preferences?"

You turn back to the woman. She's still smiling. You can't tell if it's genuine or customer service. Perhaps both.

Did Satoru not like what you're wearing? When you look down, it makes sense. Your time on the tower wasn't kind to your hair, not to mention your clothes. This morning, you'd just thrown on the first thing you saw.

This morning. That felt like centuries ago.

She's still waiting. You give a trepid smile.

"Anything," you say, "anything as long as it's cheap. I'm not exactly swimming in cash."

She gives a confused look. "Oh, but Mr. Gojo is paying, isn't he?"

Was he? You had no idea what was happening, much less what he had just said. She returns to her usual smile.

"If you have nothing in mind, let's see here..."

Some time later, your usual clothing was removed and replaced by something satin and long. It was a pretty dress that fell right to your feet. A set of women also flitted in and worked on your hair and face, putting everything back in your face so that you looked more human and less cryptid.

"What do you think?" She asks, looking at you through that mirror.

Pretty, you looked pretty. But when you looked closer, no amount of make-up could remove that look in your eyes.

When you step back out, Satoru is waiting with a tapping foot.

"Finally!" He exclaims, standing up. He doesn't acknowledge the dress, probably because he's seen himself in better. "Thanks, Hana. Okay, let's go."

"Go?" You prod. "Go where? You—you still haven't told me what you're even doing—"

It's no use. He grabs your hand, instantly warping you away from the boutique.

You're outside. There's people everywhere. In the distance, you can see a crystal glass dome. The sun was still in the sky, which was strange because you remembered watching a sunset not too long ago, unless you weren't in Japan anymore. To prove it to yourself, you check your phone location. Yakima, Washington. What the fuck.

Was this some type of torture, him flitting you from continent to continent, all in a ploy to punish you for something? You give him a pleading look.

"Just tell me what's going on—"

"Nuh-uh." He grins. "It's a surprise! Besides, you'll figure it out soon enough. Now, I gotta' go. Stay here, be good, and find the panda!"

And then he's gone.

You always knew he was insane, but this is ridiculous, even for him. To leave you in the middle of nowhere, that asshole.

There is no one you recognize in the crowd, but they are all walking towards the dome, so you meekly follow. What did he say? Find the panda? It had to be a metaphor of some kind, or perhaps there was a panda statue you needed to wait under.

And then you see a panda on two legs walking and talking with a group of teenagers.

Seriously, what else did you expect?

Feeling like you've just aged five years, you approach the group. Including the animal, there's five. They all look like 14-16 years old. You feel like you're in high school all over again when they glance over at you. The girl looks particularly unimpressed.

"Hi." You look at the panda. Maybe it's a really good costume because no one else looks shocked. "Satoru said I should find you...?"

One of them seems to get the code. The one with black hair and puppy eyes perks up.

"Ah! Are you 'Greeny'?" Did he tell everyone about that nickname? Didn't you tell him it was supposed to be a secret? Though, it doesn't really matter anymore.

"It's not my actual name." You say before introducing yourself.

He gives a nod. "Okkutso Yuta." He bows. What a polite kid. "This is my friend, Inumaki Toge."

The kid with half his face under his scarf gives a wave. You smile.

"Just Maki." The girl steps in before she gives you a once-over. "I like your dress."

"Oh, thank you!" You say happily, "I love yours as well!"

She looks away, but you have a feeling she has a hard time taking compliments.

"I'm Panda." The panda fucking says, and no, it isn't a costume, but you're too tired to ask at this point. "Nice to finally meet you."

When the final kid says nothing, Panda reaches over and wraps a furry hand around his shoulder.

"And this is Fushiguro Megumi! He's shy." Panda says cheerily. The boy flusters under his weight.

"Get off." Fushiguro gripes.

"Don't mind him." Maki rolls her eyes. "He's just throwing a tantrum because his sister couldn't make it, and he's gonna have to socialize with people instead of hiding behind her."

Fushiguro glares, but he doesn't respond to that. He just gives you a nod, and you decide these are good kids. At the very least, they're all way better than that brat Satoru.

"So, why are we waiting out here?" You ask, peering around.

"The doors haven't opened, yet," Okkutso kindly relays, "we're just waiting out here until everything is set up."

"If they're taking this long, then they should at least ask for help." Maki crosses her arms. "We've been waiting out here for at least thirty minutes."

"At least there's food." Panda tries to assuage.

"Salmon," says Inumaki.

"They're serving salmon out here?" You give him an incredulous look and he waves his arms around.

"Bonito flakes." Inumaki says. Okkutso tries to come to his rescue.

"Inumaki can't speak anything but food items because of his curse-" Maki quickly yanks him down by his collar frantically. Fushiguro is whispering something in his ear. You watch them go back and forth before it clicks.

"Does it have something to do with his technique?" You ask, curiously.

They stop squabbling.

"Oh, our bad. Sorry 'bout that." Panda gives a sheepish grin. "We didn't think you'd know about jujutsu sorcery 'cause...well. Your cursed energy is really low."

"Super low." Maki agrees.

"Salmon."

"Even lower than Maki's." That earns Panda a punch from her.

"Thank you," you dryly say, before you turn back to the building.

"What's going on in that place anyway?"

They all give you an odd look before they look at each other. Did you say something wrong?

"Did Gojo-sensei not tell you anything?" Okkotsu asks.

You allow yourself to leak some bitterness. "Satoru just dropped me on the sidewalk before teleporting away. He never tells me anything.

"That sounds like him." Panda nods.

"Idiot," Maki says.

"Such an idiot," Fushiguro says, and now you feel bad for Satoru.

"Our sensei's getting married today." Okkutso supplies. He points at the dome.

You don't get why you didn't realize it sooner. You knew these kids, at least Okkutso, Maki, Panda, and Inumaki. They all showed up on the very last day Geto Suguru died. Okkutso, in particular, had fought and defeated Suguru.

These were Gojo Satoru's students.

You think back to the last time you saw Satoru. He didn't look like a groom, but he's an eccentric guy. You wondered what kind of person would put up with him for the rest of their lives. You pitied them.

"Oh." You frown. "His wedding? I—I would have at least brought a gift."

"I don't think he'd mind," Panda said, "besides, you didn't even know!"

You still felt a bit guilty.

"We didn't bring anything either," Fushiguro states, and it helps just a tiny bit.

"When the ceremony begins, you can sit with us," Okkutso tells you, "we're supposed to keep an eye on you, anyway."

"You're not talking to a dog." Maki grunts.

"Oh no I—I didn't mean to be offensive!" Okkutso backtracks. "It's just—well, Gojo-sensei's been talking about you for a while, and we want to make sure everything goes smoothly and we were all really excited to meet you so—"

He keeps rambling like that until Inumaki pats his shoulder. You laugh, amused.

"I wasn't offended or anything." You tell him before his words sink in. "Wait, Satoru talks about me?"

"All the time." Maki responds, an edge to her voice. "'Greeny this', 'Greeny that'."

"We usually tune him out when he gets like that," Panda says, "honestly, we didn't even think you were real until just now."

"I always thought 'Greeny' was an inside joke Gojo-sensei and Haibara-sensei had," Okkotsu admits.

Something warm bubbles in your stomach.

"So," Fushiguro speaks, "how do you know Gojo, anyway?"

You didn't know the story Gojo told them so you simply keep it vague.

"I knew him as a kid."

It's Panda who gets the most excited about this.

"Really? What was he like as a teenager?"

"A brat." You instantly respond, and then you think a little more. "But I don't think that ever changed."

They ask you a couple more questions about Gojo's high school days. You oblige, thinking this as payback for how Satoru dropped you here without saying anything. You don't know how long you spend out there, airing out Gojo's younger days while his students get increasingly giggly.

Okkotsu is the one who notices the crowd is moving.

"I think they opened the doors." He smiles. "Let's go, everyone."

You follow behind Maki, admiring the architecture. It's a grand building. Sparkling crystal glass lets the sunlight bleed in. The decoration was something else entirely. Small white flowers adorn the chandelier, and they cascade down the edges. Ice sculptures of angels greeted the guests. Live music was already playing. Satoru knows how to plan a wedding.

Maki finds you all seats. You sit next to her. Fushiguro follows you. Okkutso, Inumaki, and Panda take the seats behind you. While you wait for the guests to settle down, you pass your time, waiting for the students to bicker with one another. From your assumption, it looked as though Maki, Panda, and occasionally Inumaki butted heads with each other. Okkutso often served as the timid referee, trying to get everyone to calm down, which almost always made things worse. Fushiguro just elected to ignore everything.

"Are they always like this?" You lean over to whisper to him. Fushiguro gives a tired nod.

"Every. Single. Day." He's saying this from experience, but at least you get a show.

Everyone settles down eventually. The kids grow quiet when the music starts to swell. The indoor lights dim. It's starting.

You've never been to a wedding this grand before. There was a live orchestra. Women and men were dressed in baby blue, gently strumming away their cellos, violins, and violas.

It's how you miss Satoru's entrance. He's already standing on the altar by the time you look back. He's changed into something more formal. The suit and green tie fit him. A perfectly put-together beauty. As though he can sense your stare, he catches your eye and winks.

But why was he already up there? Shouldn't he be—

"Sensei's coming!" Okkotsu whisper-yells. Inumaki hushes him.

Everyone turns to face the door. You do, too.

Your heart stops when you see him.

It's all there. Black hair, but it's longer this time around. Of course it is, he's had years to grow it out. He's tall, he must've grown since highschool.

You don't think you're breathing when you watch him walk down the aisle. The music is low, barely loud enough to hide the click of his heels. He takes his rightful place beside Satoru, his best man. Satoru gives him a nudge, and Suguru shakes his head fondly.

Everyone turns to see Shoko's entrance. You should too, but you keep staring at him. How much he's changed since high school. How much he's changed since he waltzed onstage wearing a priest's outfit, filled with nothing but empty hatred for those he viewed as weak.

But he's not wearing that twisted monk costume. His eyes aren't dull and dead and bitter. There's no sickly faux smile on his lips.

Today, Suguru looks like the happiest man on Earth.

His eyes are wide and eager and sparkling purple beauties. He's 27, but he looks younger. The lines of exhaustion and heartbreak aren't so prominent. And you—and you—

You just sit there, watching as Shoko walks up to the altar, watching as they stand as bride and groom. His daughters, adorned in pretty blue dresses, stand right behind him, smiling so hard you're sure it hurts. The priest speaks. They say their vows. You can't hear a single word. It's like you're behind a glass wall, and you can see him, but you can't feel him.

When they kiss, everything comes back. The crowd celebrates. Satoru ruffles Himeno's hair. Nanako smiles wider. Behind you, Inumaki and Panda sniffles. Okkotsu hands them a tissue.

"It’s pretty." Maki comments. Fushiguro gives a hum of agreement.

ⴵ

Satoru finds you and the kids when you're waiting for the reception to start.

He appears behind you with a cheery, "And how are my lovely students holding up?" You almost spill your drink in shock.

"Sensei!" Okkotsu chirps. "Where's Geto-sensei and Ieiri-sensei?"

"Shoko's around; Suguru's taking a break," Gojo answers with a grin. "If you don't mind me, I'll be stealing this one for a sec."

He doesn't wait for an answer, steering you away by your shoulders. You look behind you. Panda waves. Fushiguro just looks even more upset. You wave back at them regardless.

"I can't believe you put your students out on babysitting duty." You tell him. "And what's with this wedding? There's no alcohol anywhere." To make your point, you take another sip of your apple juice.

"We have kids here. Kinda' have to make it alcohol-free," Satoru says.

"The bartender could ID them." You suggest.

"You think teens who fight curses daily wouldn't figure out how to get around that?" He grins. You frown at his frustratingly good response.

“What’d you think of them?”

“Hm?”

“The kids.” He urges. “What’d you think?”

Your brows scrunch. You have no idea what he means by that. Eventually, you take a breath.

“I like how...close they are.” You eventually say. “The bond they share. They care. I think each one of them will be good sorcerers.”

He’s silent, and you think you might have misunderstood his question.

“I learned that from you,” Satoru says, “keeping them together, making sure they can grow, get stronger, together. You were always so insistent on that, back then. I’m glad you were. It was one of the best things about you.”

You stare at him. Really stare. You’ve never heard him sound so genuine, so sincere before. You look into his crystal-blue eyes, wide and earnest. Part of you wants to take a picture, so you could keep it forever.

Eventually, Gojo successfully drags you to a less crowded area of the party. He looks around.

"Hm, he should be around here somewhere...?" Satoru hums to himself.

"Who?" You ask. That question answers itself.

Haibara Yu is waiting a little ways ahead. By now, the sun was starting to set. His brown hair turned gold. Gojo eagerly hurries you forward as he calls out to him. You stumble, still lost at what you're seeing.

"Guess who I brought?" Gojo sweetly sings, Yu-Haibara, he hasn't let you call him Yu yet-tilts his head.

He smiles, confused. "Oh? Hello!" He says cheerily. "Who's this?" He asks to Gojo.

"Guess," Gojo says.

Haibara stares at you, and you decide to give him a hint.

"Brocolli head?"

He gapes. It's almost the same reaction he had last time. Last time, when you had to convince him to kill you so you could go back in time to save Satoru.

"No way." He gasps. "Greeny?"

He doesn't remember. He wouldn't, why would he? Still, it's nice to see the innocence on his face, rather than the pain you saw last time. Right before he snapped your neck.

You think he was crying the last time you two saw each other.

In this timeline, Haibara is hugging you so tightly you think your head's about to explode.

"It's really you?" Haibara says, but his bear hug muffles his words. "“—I—I can’t believe it? It’s actually you! I thought I’d never see you again even though Satoru said we'd see you again one day, and—and then suddenly you pop up outta’ nowhere—not that I’m complaining— but—”

"Haibara." You plead. "You're suffocating me."

"Oh! Oh, I'm so sorry." He lets you go, and your lungs inflate again. "I—I'm just so happy! And—and you're a girl!" He says it like it's the most surprising thing about this whole revelation. Maybe it is.

Satoru is always needy for attention and whines as always.

"Wait, you two came up with a code word?" He complains. "That's not fair. We never did that."

"I mean, it was Haibara's idea." You point out. "You should be smarter next time."

That makes him frown even more. You laugh.

"Yu." Haibara suddenly says.

You turn to him.

"My friends call me Yu."

It's nice to know that no matter what timeline you're in, Yu will always remain stagnant.

"Okay, lover boy," Gojo says with a not-so playful bite, "keep your eye on this one for me, okay? Gotta' go do more best man shit."

Satoru's gone once again. You look at Yu.

"He's been running around since I got here." You tell him. "Does that man ever rest?"

"Nope." Haibara grins, before taking your arm. "Follow me; you should meet a couple of people."

He leads you through the crowd. You spot the teens moping about out of the corner of your eye. Panda and Inumaki seem to be in a push-up competition. Maki is egging them on. You wisely decide not to disturb them.

Yu drops your hand to wave to someone. There's no need for any kind of introduction for these people.

Riko and Misato Kuroi smile at you first. Miss Kuroi's aged beautifully since you last saw her. Wispy silver hair knitted seamlessly into brown strands. She never got that chance to grow gray hairs last time. You're staring so much it might be rude.

"Yu?" Riko asks and you think you're about to break because they know each other. "Who's this?"

"Uh, this-" Haibara chokes before looking at your awkwardly. Right, he doesn't know your actual name.

Come to think of it, Satoru doesn't know either. He never bothered to ask too. Probably on purpose. Ass.

You smile and politely introduce yourself. It takes everything within you not to scream and hug them both because in this timeline, they don't know you. They never did.

But you can change that now.

"Hello!" Riko beams. "I'm Kuroi Riko, but just Riko is fine! And this is my mom: Kuroi Misato."

She says that so plainly, like that had always been her name, like Miss Kuroi had always been her mother. You wonder how long it took for those two realities to become her norm. Or maybe it hardly took time at all.

"It's wonderful to meet you." Miss Kuroi states before she tilts her head. "May I ask how you know the couple?"

Haibara jumps in for you. "Um—actually, this is Satoru's date!" He fumbles.

You do a double-take. No, you technically weren't Satoru's date. But you technically entered the wedding with him. And he was the one who 'invited' you. Fuck, you were the brat's date. Damn it.

"Ah." Nanami cuts in for the first time. "So, you're the one Gojo won't shut up about."

His accusation sounds like Maki's, but less harsh. You wonder if he has a favorite student.

Nanami looks the most different from his high school counterpart. A new haircut, less slouchy, more tall and refined. He blinks at you, slow and calculating.

Sheepishly, you laugh. "Yeah...that's me....sorry."

"Don't be rude, Kento."

Ieiri arrives with a soft smile and painted features. She's changed out of her glowing gown, sticking to something small yet perfectly elegant: a short white dress that curls ever so slightly at the ends. Riko's the first to hug her, ecstatic. Ieiri hugs her back, too, because they've become friends in this timeline. The circles under her eyes are less prominent. Her smile looks more real. This isn't the timeline where she's had to bury her friend; it's the timeline she's allowed to marry him.

"Congratulations," you say politely once everyone is done cooing over her. She smiles at you, the way a stranger would.

Then, her head tilts.

"Sorry," she hesitates, "do we know each other? You...feel familiar somehow."

Ieiri was the first person you met when you activated your technique and returned to the past for the first time. She was the one who calmed you down, kept you grounded. In a way, you owed a lot to her.

Looking at her, you can see why Suguru kept her cigarettes in his pocket.

You shrug. "I must have one of those faces."

The attention turns back to her, her beautiful dress, pure and white and beautiful. You feel Haibara stare at you. You shake your head at him. It wasn't the time. Maybe it never will be.

"This really is a beautiful wedding," Mistato says when the conversation reaches a pleasant lull, "I can't imagine how much it cost."

She shrugged.

"Probably a fortune, but I let Satoru deal with the numbers."

Misato looks confused, and Ieiri laughs.

"He paid for everything." She gestures to the venue. "Suguru and I didn't have to fork over a single cent. It's the least he could do for being a pain in the ass for 12 years."

Damn, you knew he was rich, but you didn't know he was rich rich. Maybe you should consider being nicer to him. If you ask politely, perhaps you could get him to pay off your car loans.

"I'll get him to pay for my wedding too." Riko proudly says.

"He'd probably do it, too." Ieiri nodded along. "He offered, just like that. The only thing he was hellbent on was the date."

"The date?" You echo. Ieiri shrugs, messing with her laced sleeves.

"Said it absolutely needed to be on December 24th. Something about spirituality. I never listened to that guy's rants."

It comes to you immediately, but you're pushing it away. No way. Satoru wouldn't. There isn't a chance in Hell he would have convinced his friends to have the biggest day of their lives on the same day you were supposed to meet him.

No, of course, he would do that. Ass.

"So, how do you know Satoru?" Riko asks you. When she realized how rude it sounded, she backtracked. "I—I didn't mean anything by it! It's just...the guy only knows five people. When he spoke about bringing someone along, I thought he was joking."

"Same here," Nanami says. Haibara stifles a laugh, and you realize all of Satoru's friends think he's a loser.

Friends. Back then, he only had one of those.

"Um." You toss Haibara look. He shrugs. "We met a few years ago! But we just recently reconnected." That's close enough to the truth. Good enough.

You remember your blunder. You sympathetically look at Shoko.

"I'm so sorry I wasn't able to bring a gift," you say, "I was blindsided. Satoru barely gave me enough time to get ready."

You laugh, and you're hoping they laugh it off too. They don't, instead Shoko, Nanami, Riko, and Misato look at you. Then, they look at each other.

Nanami speaks first. He clears his throat.

"Did Satoru....abduct you?"

"What?"

"That sounds like him." Misato sighs, more exasperated than anything else.

Riko nods along with her. "We tried to teach him. Where did we go wrong?" she laments.

Haibara and Shoko laugh as you desperately try to defend your not-date date because he didn't actually kidnap you, but he did bring you here against your will and started dragging you along like some toy, but it's the context about that that matters. You wished they could've had a bit more faith in him. Poor Satoru.

It ends eventually. Ieiri excuses herself. Riko and Misato go too. You stay with Yu and Nanami, watching as they get into increasingly petty arguments. It’s hilarious how quickly Yu is able to bring the usually staunch and serious Nanami down to his level.

Sometime later, you find yourself roaming the balcony. The party roars on indoors, laughing, talking, cheering. It was chilly outside, you should go back in within a few minutes. You just needed a break from the action.

The sun had already gone down, by then. You were somewhere out in the country. The buildings sparsely dotted the horizon. There were no artificial lights. It meant the stars could shine as brightly as they wanted to, with no one to stop them.

You hadn’t seen Satoru in a while. You had no idea where he’d run off to. It didn’t matter; you knew he’d eventually pop out of a box to harass you again.

But now that you had space for yourself, you needed to think.

You rest your hands over the rail, looking up at the stars. There were so many out tonight.

You fixed the future. You changed everything. Does that mean you still needed to tell Satoru about the past timeline?

You promised him answers the next time you two met. You promised him an explanation. He waited ten years for that. You pinch at the fabric of the dress.

This future that you carefully built, crafted with your own hands. It’s delicate, a glass castle.

It’s justice, but did that make it right?

“Want one?”

The voice makes you jump.

He stares at you, leaning against the rail. Purple eyes, mirroring the starry sky.

You knew these eyes, for a while, they used to be yours.

You stare at him. Then, you stare at the cigarette in his inviting fingers.

Your fingers twitch.

“No—no, I’m fine.” You smile. “Actually, I’m trying to quit.”

“Ah.” Suguru says, lighting it up before bringing it to his lips. “Shouldn’t tempt you, then. Pardon, what’s your name?”

You can hear your heartbeat. It’s loud, right in your ear. You wonder if he can hear it too. Are his curses around? Can they smell it? Your blood? Are they still as ravenous as the last time, eager to tear and fester and eat—

“It’s Greeny,” you say, “you can call me Greeny. ”

He hums in approval.

“Geto Suguru,” he says, “though I’m pretty sure you already know that.” You both share a huff of laughter.

“My fiancé quit a few years ago.” Suguru starts, mentioning the cherry-red cigarette. “Thought I’d follow in her footsteps, but here I am.” He shrugs before he winces.

“Wife, sorry.” He corrects. “I still can’t believe it.”

The monsters come out to play their song. You close your eyes, forgive Suguru, and you die once more.

You smile at his tone. He sounded like that 12 years ago, when he was still just a kid. Full of soft wonder.

“I’m guessing you’ve been planning this for a long time?” You ask.

He shrugs. “Shoko did most of the work. This is all thanks to her, really. Unfortunately, I was too busy managing the school.”

“I heard you were a principal?” You prod.

Suguru nods, “Our current one recently retired. I’m trying to follow in his footsteps.”

You think of Principal Yaga, the one with sunglasses and a stern expression. He looks a lot like Nanami in some areas. But he acts more like Suguru than anyone you ever knew.

And you knew Suguru; you knew him as well as yourself.

The screams start up again, and you forgive Suguru.

“I can tell you’re already making him proud,” you say, “I met your students. They’re good kids.”

He smiles, soft, gentle. Those used to be your smiles.

“They are, aren’t they?” He repeats back, “some of them had a rough beginning, but it all worked out somehow.” He hums. “I’m glad.”

His daughters, the ones standing beside him as he kissed his wife, wide eyes and even wider grins. They didn’t have the darkness in their faces. The bitterness. Like they did in the last timeline.

You were glad, too.

This death is a lot more painful than the others.

The curse that's holding you is more intelligent than its predecessors. It keeps you alive, tearing at your skin, feasting on your flesh. Blood is everywhere. You scream until it rips out your vocal cords. It's almost a mercy to just die.

You forgive Suguru.

“It sounds like you’ve had personal experience with that sort of thing.” When he looks at you, you quickly say. “Your eyes. I—I can see it. I’ve always been good at that sort of thing.” You knew Suguru. His eyes matched yours.

He doesn’t look offended. Suguru takes a minute, reaching up to his black locks. He removes the elastic, pretty black hair falls down his shoulders He’s grown it out since high school. It reaches his waist.

He eases himself back onto the rail, looking up at the stars. You follow.

“Yeah, I do,” he’s saying, “I think I know what it’s like being them at that age. Alone, isolated, slipping down a rock. Drowning, but no one can see it.” Ingested. Exorcised. Ingested. Exorcised.

“When I was younger...it was really hard. Some days, I was so full of hate and anger. The pain was a lot. Sometimes, I had this despicable idea that it was someone else’s fault I was like this. Someone innocent.” He laughs, bitter.

“And, on those days, I would often feel something.”

You look at him. Suguru doesn’t stare back, eyes lost in the stars.

“Sometimes, it’d be a voice. Other times a small nudge on my shoulders, pushing me in the right direction. Once, it was a hug, keeping me from doing something that would’ve changed my life forever. And it would be just a bit more bearable, like I wasn’t so alone.”

You can feel your heart in your throat. Your fingers grip the railing.

“What did you think it was?” You expect hate, disgust. You want to give yourself a reason.

You forgive Suguru.

He takes a moment, coming back from heaven. His eyes find yours.

“I’m not sure.” He admits. “I’m not religious, but I always liked to think of it as—”

An angel. A hand of God. A higher power. It doesn’t matter what Suguru said, you knew what he meant.

A part of you always wondered why Suguru would return to Jujutsu society, when he wanted nothing more than to run from it. You expected him to retire. Instead, he took the reins of the beast, wrangling it down. Now, you get why.

“That’s why you’re a teacher now,” you say, “so you could be the same thing for your students.”

He nods, and you think of Maki. You think of Okkutso. You think of Panda. You think of Fushiguro. You think of Inumaki. Suguru must have been there for Maki, even when her own family wasn’t. Suguru must have helped Okkutso control his technique, being the only one who could. Suguru, must have made these kids better than they ever possibly could’ve been. Fighting for them instead of against them.

“Sorry.” He blinks. “I—I didn’t mean to get so sentimental. It’s been years since I thought about my own highschool years.” He laughs, voice full.

“You’re just...really nice to talk to.” He hums. “I don’t think I can explain it but it’s...familiar somehow.”

You look at him. He’s older, but in some ways, he hasn’t really changed. Even now, when you look at him, you see a reflection of yourself.

“I can see why he likes you.”

“Who?” You ask when he brings you back from your thoughts.

“The idiot.” But he says it so affectionately, so lovingly, you can’t help but smile. “I saw him dragging you around earlier. Sorry about that. I would’ve stepped in but...” He trails off, thinking.

“It’s been a while since I saw him like that.”

You hadn’t noticed anything about Satoru. He smiled just as brightly as he did in highschool. Now, you wonder if this was the first time in a while Suguru had seen that side of him: carefree, no longer The Strongest.

It hurts. It hurts so much. Blood seeps into the pavement. You can hear the curse laughing. It sounds like him.

You forgive Suguru.

“Are you and him…” he trails off.

“No.” You laugh. “No, I’m his….childhood friend. We just haven’t seen each other in a while.”

“Oh?” He tilts his head. “How long has it been?”

You decide to be honest. “Ten or so years, give or take?”

He whistles.

“No wonder he’s bouncing around like a yipping puppy,” He says, and you can’t help but agree with the analogy.

“In any case.” He leans over the railing. His cigarette is down to its last embers. “I hope you stick around. A friend…I think he needs more of those more than anything.”

You stare at him. Those purple eyes. You can see what Shoko sees. You can see what Satoru saw all those timelines ago. They only ever saw the light, the gentleness, of Geto Suguru.

You are the only person in the world who knows him.

He’s killed people. He’s killed you. No matter how much logic or justification or pain was involved, the blood of the innocent is still sticky. It still drips across the pavement, scarring the sidewalk in red. It still hurts.

When Suguru would kill you, you’d force yourself to forgive him. You needed to die without regrets, because the pain of hatred builds up, you’ve seen it happen firsthand.

But now that you’re free, what Suguru did to you wasn't fair. Just because his innocence was taken away doesn’t give him the right to take the lives of others. It never gives anyone the right to murder. You keep telling yourself that this Suguru and that Suguru were different…but they weren’t. Not really. The look in their eyes matched perfectly.

He’d do it again, in the right conditions.

And yet.

You forgive Suguru.

You can’t judge him. If there is a God, maybe Suguru will have to pay for the crimes he committed all those timelines ago. You can’t save Suguru from that. But to you, the debt is paid.

Besides, you’re too tired to hate him. And you won’t allow yourself to fall into the same cycle he struggled to break free from.

You look into his eyes. Then, at his ring. You smile.

And that's enough.

“I will,” you say, “I will.”

Then, as two parts of a whole, the two of you stare at the stars for a little while longer.

ⴵ

The reception was nice. A fancy dinner, you can’t remember the last time you ate something. The speeches were beautiful, especially Shoko’s. You swore you saw Nanami shed a tear, but you never said anything about it.

You saw a glimpse of white hair in the crowd before the first dance began. Stunning music. The couple must have practiced for months. Bride and Groom, husband and wife, held hands and looked at each other like they were the only ones in the room.

Megumi stood beside you, watching Ieiri and Geto sway to the music. As though the kid could sense him, Megumi’s serene face sours. You’re about to ask him what’s wrong when there’s a tap on your shoulder.

“Cute, huh?” Satoru starts, mentioning at the dance. “It didn’t look this put-together in the beginning. Shoko gave him a ton of bruises,” he says with a shit-eating grin.

You frown. “Shouldn’t you be doing something else than gossiping about your friends?”

“I am! I’m checking up on my son!” And then he turns to Fushiguru. “Megumi!”

“No.” Fushiguro instantly rebukes.

“Don’t mind him.” Satoru chides. “He’s going through an angst phase.” Fushiguro rolls his eyes, but he shifts just a tiny bit.

“Y’know, he was actually supposed to be the flower boy, but he refused. Such a shame, the pictures would’ve been something else.” Gojo sighed and now you’re convinced they aren’t father and son.

“That was never going to happen.” Fushiguro says, and as if he thinks you’re naive enough to believe Satoru, he glances at you. “Never.”

“Of course not.” You crack a smile.

You watch as Ieiri descends into a graceful spin, Geto taking the lead. When he tips her over, your eyes soften.

Gojo leans over; you can feel his breath in your ear.

“Next year.” He whispers. “For us, it’ll definetly be next year.”

You jerk away but he’s already skipping off, having the audacity to call out a cheerful ‘toodles’.

“What did he say?” Fushiguro questions.

That’s what you wanted to know, too, but you were so tired, and the night was so long, and you couldn’t bother to get out your Gojo translator and figure it out.

“The same stuff he always says. Nonsense.” You decide on. Fushiguro takes the answer.

“I don’t understand how he has all that energy.” You mutter, watching Satoru disappear through the crowd.

“I thought he’d get better with age, turns out I was wrong,” Fushiguro says.

“I wanted to ask,” you start, your eyes still on Ieiri and Geto, “how do you know Gojo? Aren’t you still in middle school?”

“Everyone knows Gojo. He’s pretty famous in the jujutsu world.” Fushiguro shrugs. “But personally...he’s my benefactor. Took me and my sister in when my parents left.”

You look at him. And you feel like an idiot.

He’s the spitting image of his father. Sharp cobalt eyes. Black hair. Fushiguro Toji is all over the young man.

Gojo Satoru, the one who killed the sorcerer killer, took care of his enemy’s children.

“What?” Fushiguro asks when you’re smiling

You shake your head. “No, no it’s nothing.”

Satoru told you that you’re the one who taught him about the importance of bonds. But you think he should take some of the credit too.

ⴵ

Eventually, everyone gets on the dancefloor.

It’s a mess. Absolute chaos. Panda and Inumaki are trying and failing to do the waltz. Maki and Okkuttso are lightly swaying to the music. They’ve managed to get Fushiguro up there too. Though, he doesn’t look extremely happy.

The adults are even worse. Apparently, the retired principal Yaga is a pretty good dancer. You think one of them found alcohol, because Haibara looks absolutely wasted. He’s swinging his arms around, almost hitting the other guests. Nanami is trying to get his attention, but the guy wants none of it. When Haibara catches your eye, he wildly waves in clear invitation.

You smile back, but you shake your head. You think he’s about to come up to you, but something else catches his eye, and he’s grinning at a very irrated-looking Iori.

You were sitting on a chair, just people-watching. It was a nice break from everything. To listen to the music, lightly tap your feet, play with the frill of your dress. You weren’t really in the mood to dance.

Besides, you weren’t technically invited here anyway. It’d be rude to just burst on the scene.

“There you are! Been looking all over for you!”

You don’t have to look over to see who it is. Satoru slumps down in a chair next to you.

“Greeny, you gotta’ do something about your cursed energy. It’s so weak. Like finding a needle in a haystack.”

“Thanks,” you say dryly.

“Always happy to help.” Satoru beams, and then he glances over at the floor.

“We’re dancing after this song, by the way.”

“Absolutely not.”

“It’s so cute you think you have a choice, Greeny.”

You frown. “There’s no point in calling me Greeny anymore. Unless you still don’t know my name.”

“I do, but it doesn’t matter,” Satoru says arrogantly. “You’ll always be my Greeny to me.”

You roll your eyes. Even now, he’s a brat. You thought all these years would mellow him down just a tiny bit.

“So,” you start, “are you done with your ‘best man shit’?”

“Yup.” He announces. “Now, I can sit back and enjoy the show.”

You smile, but you can still feel the butterflies in your stomach. He’s been running around so far and it’s given you time. Now, that he’s free, it means you two have to talk.

And you aren’t sure if you truly want to.

You flex your fingers.

“Um, how have you—”

“Stop.” Satoru interrupts. “Let’s not make this awful, Greeny.”

You nod immediately, relaxing. His voice gets softer, after that.

“I’m glad you chose that color,” he says, “I was sorta’ hoping you would.”

You look down at the dress. A deep green. You hadn’t even thought about the color, the boutique lady had basically thrown it at you.

The shade of Satoru’s green tie matches your dress. You can feel your smile again. Typical.

“I’m glad I did too,” you honestly say. And then, you continue to fiddle with your fingers. Ultimately, you decide to just bite the bullet.

“I thought you’d be mad.” You finally say, words jittery and unfocused. “Angry at me for...for what I did.”

He’s silent, and you feared that it was all true. The laughs and the jabs were all a facade.

"I don’t think I was ever mad." He responds, staring into the crowd. "Hurt, yeah. Then, it faded into something that stung everytime I thought about it, and then...something else. And now, I know it's a waste to get mad because you're finally here now. With me."

His tone pitches upwards as he reaches over to painfully pinch your cheek.

"'Sides, I know you can't escape me anymore, Greeny," Satoru cheerfully says, "Now, I know your face, your name, and with little effort, I could probably find your address, your social security-"

"Okay! Okay!" You pull away, rubbing your cheek. Damn, he's scary. "Threat acknowledged."

"Good!" He straightens himself back up, and you find yourself slumping again.

“I am sorry, though,” you say, “for leaving like that. I...I always wished I could do that a bit differently. You deserved better.”

“Don’t do that.” He shakes his head. “Don’t blame yourself for only doing what you could. It eats at you, Greeny. It really does.” He sighs, leaning forward in his chair.

“You deserved better too,” he says back, voice barely above the music, “I always had some regrets about those years. I thought I could’ve done more to help you, back then.”

There it was again: selfishness, the urge to do good to others while retaining that greed. You supposed you taught him that.

You put your face in your hands.

“Even though, you dragged me here against my will, I feel so guilty being here.” You complain, hoping it’ll lighten the mood. “You should apologize to everyone because I crashed the party.”

Satoru scoffs. “What are you talking about? Everyone loves you!” He exclaims. “Look, Yu’s ecstatic. Riko won’t stop gushing about you; you even have Nanami’s approval! I don’t even have that!” You roll your eyes, sinking back in your seat.

“Besides, you needed to come. You needed to see it.”

“See what?” You ask.

“This.” He points to the venue, the ballroom full of glittery whites and sparkles.

“Look around, Greeny. Look at all the people you saved.”

Haibara and Riko are dancing together. Two dead children finally had the chance to grow up. Misato speaks to Nanami. Beautiful gray hair, eyes that aren’t so tired. Shoko sparkling in her dress, and Geto—

The same day he was supposed to die, Suguru was getting married.

“Thank you.” When you look at him, Satoru is staring right at you. His sea eyes give everything and more.

“Thank you for saving all of us.”

Your heart skips, then just stops completely. You can’t cry, you won’t not here, not on such a happy day. But your eyes are stinging. And Satoru is turning blurry.

And then, like Satoru always does, he ruins the moment.

"Did you just fall for me a little?"

His head tilts. That same mischievous, irritating smile lights up on his face.

You relax, laughing out of disbelief. When you speak, your voice is barely scratchy. "You're so full of yourself; it's actually a little cute."

"You think I'm cute?"

"Did you hear anything else that I just said?"

"I heard you think I'm cute,” Satoru responds proudly, and you doubt he’d ever let you hear the end of it.

“And besides! Today is supposed to be a celebration for you too!” He exclaims.

“Oh really?”

“Yes,” Satoru says proudly, “you did it! You became a fully-fledged sorcerer. Considering your low CE, you might pass as grade four, but when I talk to our new principal, I’m sure he’ll make things right. Get ready to join be and him in the big leagues.”

You could read between the lines. Satoru wanted to tell everyone. You think a while ago, you might have agreed, but...

“Can...Can I quit being a sorcerer?” You ask. “I’m tired.”

He takes a second. Some of you wonders if he’ll try to talk you out of this. It’s more beneficial for him if you stay as an asset to the jujutsu world. How many people’s lives will be saved by a technique like yours? To be able to go back in time again and again and again. To die again and again and again.

“Someone once told me that it’s okay to be selfish every once in a while.” Satoru looks at you, eyes like lilies once again. “I won’t fault you for it. I don’t think anyone will.”

When you try to smile, it feels wobbly.

“That person sounds smart.”

“Nah.” He grins. “An idiot, actually. Way too oblivious.”

You laugh, despite the insult.

“Quit,” Satoru says when it’s quiet again, “do whatever you want. But...you can’t run away, okay? I won’t let you.”

It’s barely a touch. His hand reaches for your fingers. You’re the one who grabs it.

“I won’t.” You promise. “I won’t.”

He’s satisfied with that. You can tell when he squeezes your hand back.

You look at him, and you decide you won't tell Satoru what happened in the last timeline.

There's no point. It wouldn't do anything but shatter everything he worked so hard to make. Why would you break the glass when you could just add concrete, make it stronger? You saved everyone. A few white lies here and there just keep this future safe.

And you know this Satoru. If you told him, he'd carry that burden with you like the soldier he was. You don't want him to do that. You don't want him to have the same look you see in your own face. One last sacrifice.

When you come back, Satoru is shifting in his seat, uncrossing his legs.

“So...about that dance?”

“Ugh, fine.” You stand up. “One dance. And if you do anything embarrassing, I’m leaving.”

“Clearly, you don’t know me as well as you think you do.” He grins, standing up himself.

He doesn’t release your hand for the rest of the night.

You don’t mind.

(When you disappear again, Maki’s the one who finds you.

By then, it’d been long into the night. Shoko and Suguru were already gone, off to their honeymoon in the Maldives. Riko, Misato, and most of the students were sleeping off the night. Maki, his most diligent student, was helping the remaining adults pack up the venue.

She’s dragging chairs away when she grunts in Satoru’ direction.

“By the way, your date’s sleeping outside.”

Ah, you were on the balcony. No wonder he couldn’t find you. Satoru needed to do something about your cursed energy. What’s the point of having six eyes when he can’t even find the one person who’s evaded him for a decade?

You’ve completely passed out. Slumped over on a chair, head bent at an angle that could not be comfortable. Satoru knows he should feel bad. He dragged you around the entire night like a ragdoll. This was partially his fault.

He can’t really blame himself, not when you were finally here.

It still feels like a dream. Being able to hear your voice, not Suguru’s, not Yu’s. Your touch. Your eyes. Your face. Your laugh. For years, he’s wondered what it sounded like.

Reality beat even his perfect daydreams.

Seeing you up there on the Tokyo Skytree. The wind pushing your hair back and forth. It was breathtaking.

Even the lights of Tokyo, couldn’t compare to you.

He leans down, lips at your ear, voice low because he’s too prideful to let anyone else hear, not even you.

“I know it’s too late, but you looked really pretty tonight.”

You say nothing, but you shift, murmur something in your sleep. It’s all he needs.

He ditches the clean up party, taking you within his arms. He thinks he says something to Yu, but Satoru doesn’t really care if he heard. Right now, he only has one priority.

Tonight, he’ll sleep on the hotel’s pull-out sofa while you snooze in the luxurious queen-sized bed. You’ll probably be mad in the morning, something about how you should’ve taken the couch, but he doesn’t mind your mindless acts of selflessness.

He’s waited a decade. He deserves to keep you.

And he knows you won’t fault him for being selfish one more time.)

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #slight yandere gojo #butnotrlly #time travel fix it #time travel #unrequited feelings #temporarily unrequited feelings #maybe #x reader #jjk fluff #just a bunch of closure rlly

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januaryembrs · 5 months ago

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ahhh can I ask for a drabble for sunshine reader x Spence when they're out with the team at a bar or something and reader is obviously a clingy and giggly drunk?

MY BABY'S SWEET AS CAN BE | Spencer Reid x Sunshine!Reader

description: Spencer's girlfriend loves karaoke when she's drunk, but she loves him even more

length: 1k

warnings: literally just fluff

He smiled at her unabashedly as she flitted through the crowd, the top of her head bobbing in between other patrons as she shoved through the sea of bodies, and he heard the odd “Excuse me, oh I’m so sorry, excuse me, Sorry-scuse me,” which let him know the mop of hair with two little bows in it was exactly who he thought it was.

Not that he’d need to try hard to find her, his eyes hadn’t left her all evening. She had a tendency to get upset if they got parted when she’d had a couple to drink, and he hated the look she got on her face when she welled up and felt sorry for herself.

She burst out the throng, her eyes quickly scanning across the group, and Emily barely had time to hand her a Frozen Daiquiri before she’d launched herself where Spencer leaned against the bar.

“Honey! Oh, I missed you so much,” She said, immediately homing into his waist, her ear pressing against his chest where his heart beat particularly loudly, because whatever affectionate streak she carried on a day to day basis was dialled to one million when she got like this.

“Baby, I saw you five minutes ago,” He chuckled, wrapping an arm around her nevertheless and running his large, warm hand down her spine where her backless dress gave him free rein to feel everything.

She looked up at him with an aghast stare, “You didn’t miss me, too?”

“Oh, I never said that, now did I?” Spencer asked, his words sweetened with his smile, and adoration stained every single syllable like coffee over clean breath, “Did you have fun?”

She giggled, leaning to steal a quick kiss, and her hand brushed over his stomach to pinch the soft pouch of fat gently, “I did! Did you see me, I totally outsang Luke,”

“For the last time; karaoke is not a contest, we’re supposed to be singing together,” Luke said, his forehead sweaty where he’d pushed through the crowd himself trying to keep up with her as she’d bolted off the stage to get back to her spot tucked under Spencer’s arm.

She stuck her tongue out at him, rolling her eyes when he gave her a more obscene gesture, and turned back to where Spencer had yet to rip his eyes off her, his pupils dopey and wide and full of puppy love as she looked at him.

“He’s just mad becaus he wanted to sing Beyonce’s part, and I made him be Shakira,” She said on chuckled breath, “But I think our cover of Beautiful Liar could top charts, like, nationally,”

“Ofcourse, I reckon you could go global if we got you a good agent,” He humoured her, and her eyes lit up with glee, bouncing on the balls of her feet to the point he almost spilled his beer. But he didn’t care, he just loved seeing her so happy.

“Really! Really, really?” She asked, quickly stealing another adoring kiss from his lips like she could only go so long before she needed another one to fuel her words, like she didn’t even realise she was doing it as there was little to no pause in her end of the conversation.

“Well, sure,” He said, his mouth interrupted when she pecked him again, and he wondered if she genuinely understood they couldn't kiss and talk at the same time with the way she was going, “But, if my sweet girlfriend becomes a popstar sensation overnight, who’s going to be there when I want to do this?” He said, wrapping an arm around her waist, his fingertips caressing the dip of her back, already knowing which moles sat beneath his touch and where, as he gave her a real kiss, one that made her squeak a little and the sound of it forced an even bigger smile out of him.

He parted from her reluctantly, and he didn’t even care that he usually didn’t like PDA all too much if it meant she would look so content and glowing, her eyes creasing as she sighed with a besotted expression. Spencer never thought he would get so lucky to have anyone look at him like that, never mind someone who he loved with his whole entire being, and everything else left of him.

“You raise a good point, my genius love,” She said, pressing her burning face into his sternum, her hands still never leaving where they’d buried into his waist, “I guess I’ll put my debut album on hold and stay to kiss you some more,”

“Will you guys stop being so disgustingly sweet, it’s making my punch taste sour,” Penelope said, even though the team didn’t seem to mind their soppy exchanges. Spencer sometimes seemed like his old self again when he was with her, something boyish and teasing and loving returning back to his rough hands and exhausted expression, and for that the two of them could rip each other's clothes off for all they cared.

Because they were one of those couples that made everyone else feel lucky to just see that kind of love so close, not envious or repellent, like finding a fawn sleeping on your doorstep. It was rare and pure and warmed everyone right through to their marrow.

The two of them smiled at one another, and she leaned in to steal a few more kisses from his lips that tasted faintly of beer, only for another song to start playing and she gasped, her mouth dropping in excitement.

“I love ABBA, we have to sing this song together!” She said, lacing her fingers with his and tugging his stubborn, lithe figure over to the stage, “Please, Spencer, please, please, please,”

And he gave her exactly what she wanted, because when could he ever say no to a face like that.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #matthew gray gubler x reader

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ellecdc · 6 months ago

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I HAD AN IDEA FOR A REQ BUT I FORGOT IT AND I JUST REMEMBERED AGAIN

okok so shy!reader (similar to r in the poly!marauders + lily fic that i am genuinely obsessedddd with) but with barty and she just gets so flustered and blushy when he’s so loud and outspoken about his affection for her

barty would absolutely accidentally (& lovingly) torment poor shy!reader. thanks for your request! (I'm obviously currently in my Barty-girl era - I deserve jail time ur honour)

Barty Crouch Jr x fem!reader who tries hiding from Barty, much to Remus' chagrin

There were very few places in the castle that Remus could escape to from his nettlesome roommates. Thankfully, his roommates would rather be trampled by a stampede of hippogriffs than spend their precious free time in the library of all places. Unfortunately, Remus was still too easily spotted in his current hideout.

“Rem! Hide me!” He heard you squeak as you came flying around one of the stacks of books; eyes wild like a prey animal looking for their last chance at survival.

“What?” Remus asked dumbly, but it was no use.

You let out a cartoonish ‘eep!’ sound and dove underneath the table Remus was currently sat at; your head basically situated in Remus’ lap as you looked up at him desperately.

“Please.” You practically begged. “You never saw me!”

“Who’s looking for you?”

Remus' question was answered in the form of a haunting whistling weaving its way casually through the aisles and aisles of books before pausing directly in front of Remus’ chair.

“‘Lo, Junior.” Remus greeted politely, causing the Slytherin boy to narrow his eyes at him.

“Lupin.” He drawled suspiciously. “Aren’t there usually…more of you?”

Remus grimaced as he felt your nervous claws dig painfully into his calf. “Nope.” He replied an octave too high to be considered casual. “Just me.”

Barty simply offered him a disbelieving hum.

“So, Lupin,” Barty continued, chewing the vowels of Remus’ surname as if it tasted particularly rancid in his mouth. “See anything around here lately?”

Remus hummed as if pretending he was in thought. “No…nope, definitely haven’t seen anyo- anything.”

But it was too late.

“Haven’t seen anyone, hm?” Barty surmised with a wicked grin. “Not even…say…a certain witch who happens to be the object of my affections?”

You dejectedly thumped your forehead against Remus’ knee, hitting the nerve which caused his leg to kick out reflexively, thus pushing you over under the table.

“Merlin’s tits, Lupin, are you having a fit?”

“Oh my sodding Godric.” You finally grumbled from under the table, causing Barty’s face to brighten up astronomically.

It took you far longer than Remus would have liked to be sitting in the awkward semi-company with Barty to extricate yourself from under the library table, and your efforts were accompanied by an awful lot of painful sounding bumps and cursing before your - albeit rather bedraggled - form materialized beside Remus.

“There’s my girl.” Barty nearly sighed in relief; a dopey lovesick smile spreading across his face.

“Do you see it too?” You whispered to Remus conspiratorially.

“See what?”

“That look.” You whispered again, causing Remus to snort.

“The look of adoration currently decorating Junior’s face? Yeah, I see it.”

You scoffed at him. “Barty doesn’t adore me.”

“Says who!?” Barty nearly screeched, causing Remus to look around nervously at the attention the trio was quickly gathering. “I’ll kill them.”

“What?”

“Can I be excused from this conversation?” Remus groaned as he returned to his seat.

Barty quickly agreed at the same moment that you hissed no!

“Listen - my darling angel - though I think you’re really great at just about everything you do, you are absolute pants at hiding.” Barty offered you solemnly as if he were gently giving you quite devastating news.

“Maybe you’re just too good at this finding thing.” You huffed as you crossed your arms; quite petulantly, in Remus’ opinion.

“At finding you?” Barty asked as his face broke out in a Cheshire cat grin. “Always.”

Remus was certain you were going to melt through the floor below you, and - quite frankly - if it got you two away from Remus’ library sanctuary, so be it.

#marauders era #marauders au #reader insert #self insert #marauders fanfiction #barty gate #barty crouch junior #barty crouch jr #barty crouch jr imagine #barty crouch jr x reader #barty crouch jr x you #shy!reader #fem!reader #barty crouch jr blurb #Barty Crouch jr ficlet #ellecdc fics

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naviavu · 4 months ago

Text

Evergreen

PAIRINGS: yandere!alhaitham x reader

TAGS: mild compared to my other works <3, i guess, >:-), obsession, possessive sex, juicy smut, alhaitham is yandere YANDERE, he just wants reader back home :(, sumeru dream team, abuse of power, childhood friends to lovers, kinda, manipulation

WORDS: 4.4k // crossposted on ao3 // my masterlist

NOTES: hope everyone enjoys this dark twist of alhaitham! it's been so long since i wrote for genshin, and i'm not sure how much the tumblr community has changed. regardless, please don't hesitate to drop by my inbox to comment or request! i genuinely missed writing lol <3

You often think that you’re cursed with your work.

(Y/N) of the Akademiya. Graduated early from Vahumana, traveling all over the seven nations to be a teacher and provide impoverished kids with free education. This is the fourth year of your career, and you’re staying in Fontaine– everything is going great.

Until one day, a messenger approached you.

“What do you mean the stakeholders are withholding funds indefinitely?” A chalk breaks under your grip, powder falling to your skirt. You glance quickly outside the tent, careful to not let your students hear you. “That doesn’t make any sense– the Yorun investors are literally from Sumeru! They’re wealthy enough to fund fancier Akademiya projects! ”

The messenger– Jesse, a gentle Fontainian girl much younger than you– avoids eye contact and fiddles with her sling bag. “They insisted that the abrupt change in the sages and Lesser Lord Kusanali’s rise to power caused their resources to become… limited.”

“Oh, that’s bullshit!” You shout. Jesse trembles. You sigh and pat her head. “Sorry, kid. I didn’t mean to raise my voice. Get home safe, alright?”

(She only nods and places the letter on your desk. Before leaving, she turns back and says, “I’m really sorry, Ma’am (Y/N). I also wish that you continue your work. You’ve done a great deal educating kids in this neighborhood… including my brother.”

You give her a sad smile.)

There was no choice. The next day, you taught one last lesson to your students (eleven children from the back alleys of Fontaine, all no older than twelve) and bid your final goodbyes. When they ask where you’re going, you tell them that you’re on for another long journey, and you don’t know when you’ll be back. They gather around and embrace you, small hands all over your body. One of the kids (Jules, one brilliant in maths but not so much in literature. You’ll miss his toothy smile the most) tell you that they will pray to Focalors for your safety. You pat Oli’s head one last time, telling him to be good for his sister Jesse.

A carriage picks you up before sunrise. Your journey to Sumeru was uneventful, and every small bump and thud on the way aggravated you further. You settle for burning holes at the empty seat in front of you.

You enter the city with your head down, walking the familiar steps robotically. You think that you recognize the voices of your old acquaintances and neighbors chattering and laughing, but the haze from your mind (and heart) prevents you from doing the bare minimum of greeting them.

The first step to your wooden porch is a bittersweet homecoming. When you open your front door, the hinges still squeak the same tones before you left.

Your evergreen shrubs haven't grown an inch, as if someone was maintaining them. (You brush off this strange detail.)

Mindlessly staring inside your unkempt house, you decide that if you want to continue your life’s work, you must continue earning money.

(You failed to notice that your doorknob was dust-free.)

You sat down on your old desk and wrote a lengthy letter to the higher-ups for the cause of your arrival, the reason for the halt of your travels, and that you’re looking for a job.

For the rest of the day, you unpack your bags, sweep the floor, and pace restlessly in your living room. It’s been many years since you were in contact with your superiors. The last time you saw them was at your graduation, where everyone expected you to stay in Sumeru and be one of the next candidates for the Sage of Vahumana.

The grip in your broom tightens when you remember as clear as day your professors’ anger and judgment when you declined their offer. Entitled. Ungrateful.

Will they even accept you back? Will they cast you out?

To your surprise, a reply arrived on your doorstep not even a day later. A clean envelope embroidered with green and silver patterns.

You were offered to fill the vacant position of Scribe.

You tell yourself that you’ll adjust eventually.

Seeing the piles of papers and books in front of you, your hand aches a phantom throb. You wonder how your friend Lisa could survive this kind of monotony in Mondstadt. It pays better, sure, and your back and legs won’t hurt as much from traversing landscapes– but it’s still nothing compared to seeing the smile on children’s faces when they finally understand the concepts after a bone-deep, exhausting lesson.

As expected, the stick-thin pen felt too soft on your fingers after a few hours. You were more used to holding chalks or markers. Drafting ordinances and reading through academic policies was never your thing.

Outside your study, you hear the light footsteps of scholars while noisily prattling about one of their newest inventions. You can’t help but compare the plain white-green palette of your office to the brightness and energetic vibrance of the local districts.

Putting your hands on your head, you exhale deeply. “Fuck me!”

“--(Y/N). I hope you’re doing well on your first day.” A voice –not too different from years ago, just deeper– enters the room.

Oh god. “Alhaitham!” The silver-haired man closes the door behind him. You didn’t even hear his footsteps outside your office. “Sorry, my… hand cramped from signing all these papers. You know how it is.”

He raises his eyebrow. “Still not used to your tasks?” Seeing him out of his Haravatat uniform is a new sight. Even from a distance, his stature is much taller, no doubt towering over you.

“Well, I can’t really complain,” His lack of greeting and deadpan expression doesn’t bother you. If anything, you’re glad that the Alhaitham you knew four years ago is not too different from Alhaitham now. “It’s better than not having a job. I didn’t expect them to accept me so fast, though. I thought they’d be more hung up with my rejection thing years ago. Old people and their grudges, y’know?”

Alhaitham doesn’t respond, used to your chattering. He meanders to the nearby bookshelf and brushes through. Your lips quirk into a small grin. “Thank the Archons that I have my very cute junior, who’s also the Acting Grand Sage and the previous Scribe, to help me adjust with my new work, huh?”

His fingers stop skimming. He glares over his shoulder. “Power tripping me on your first day? I’m calling human resources.”

Your shoulders shake when you laugh. His own kind of humor never ceases to amuse you. “Sorry. It’ll take some time… but I’ll get used to this. I promise.”

A familiar and comfortable silence settles in the room. A few papers later, he finally picks the book he’s been looking for and turns to you. “Please do everyone a favor by going to Lambad’s Tavern tonight. Kaveh got into an altercation with another customer, and your presence would help tone down his temper. Tighnari and Cyno are also expecting you. Candace also mentioned that she hasn't gotten back to you since you last wrote to her, and she would love to catch up personally.”

Your lips smile at the mention of your old friends. Stretching your arms, you look out the window. The noise outside from Sumeru City barely hangs in the air with your office located so high up in the building. “News goes around real fast, doesn’t it? I’ve been keeping a low profile since last week and didn’t even tell anyone about my arrival. Not Kaveh. Not Cyno, not Tighnari, not Candace.” Your whisper, eyes downcast.

Alhaitham walks to the other side of your desk and crosses his arms. “The lack of funds for your organization wasn’t your fault, (Y/N). Whether it's because of the shift in power from the sages or not, incidents out of your control inevitably happen.”

You don’t ask why he knows the reason why you’re back here. Alhaitham always knew more than what he let on. “Don’t waste time being disappointed with yourself and focus on what you have now.”

You turn away, flustered from the sincere gaze of his bright virescent eyes. You take a sip of your warm coffee to hide your smile. “Thanks, Haitham. This is why you’re the best Acting Grand Sage.”

He rolls his eyes. The brewing tension disappears. “Make sure that I see you in the tavern no later than 10.”

The door softly closes when he leaves. For the first time in forever, this place starts to feel like home.

The lively, alcohol-drenched atmosphere in Lambad’s Tavern never changed.

Years ago, you’d go day drinking whenever your assignments were returned for their fifth revision. If your whole class was lucky, most of your group mates and colleagues will be with you, equally drowning in their academic-induced sorrows.

The amber-brown colors of the sheets and the patrons who entered remained the same. Before you even reach the counter, someone already picks you up and spins you around in a hug. “Little one! I’ve heard from some patrons that you were back in town. It’s one of those rumors that I hoped to be true!”

You giggle and embrace Lambad back, grateful for the older man’s warm welcome.

“(Y/N)!” You’d recognize the forest ranger’s sweet voice anywhere. Tighnari jogs towards you and pulls you into a hug, tail wagging. You notice that he looks better compared to all those years ago when he was still in the Akademiya. “I’m sorry I couldn’t see you sooner. When Cyno told me there seemed to be an occupant in your house, I didn’t expect it to be you! ”

Bitterness pangs in your heart. “I didn’t expect to be back either,” You say honestly. “Guess everyone needs a little break somehow.”

“Warn us next time, would you?” Cyno emerges behind his friend. “Be thankful that there was other urgent business to take care of. I was ready to… interrogate whoever was staying inside my friend’s house without their permission.”

“Yeah, yeah, got it, boss,” You shake your head and laugh. Three of you walk to a table near the windows. You’re happy to see everyone. And you’re glad to know that they’re also just as happy to see you.

After a good hour of catching up, you feel your whole body relax and your jaw tense from laughing too hard at Tighnari’s anecdotes. Your emotions unwind like a fresh flower by the streams.

“That blockhead doesn’t know what he’s talking about... Where are they? The tavern is too crowded at this hour!” You turn to your left, looking for him. You wave excitedly when you see a tuft of blonde hair.

His eyes widened. “(Y/N)?”

“Kaveh.”

“(Y/N)!”

“Kaveh!” The architect ran up and enveloped you in a hug. Since college, yours and Kaveh’s stupidity knew no bounds– it was always laughs and jokes between you. You stay in each other’s arms for a few moments, and the familiarity of his scent brings you relaxation.

The night goes on as great as it started.

“I can’t wait until I move out!” Kaveh exclaims. Two people from the other table look in his direction. Your other friends groan, used to his antics.

You notice redness starting to come up on the blonde’s neck. “You’re being really loud for someone I thought didn’t want people knowing you live with him.”

Cyno places down a card. Tighnari groans. “Don’t engage him. (Y/N). Or he won’t stop.”

“Yes! Yes,” Kaveh starts. All the other customers are busy with their own shouting and chattering. “Don’t get me wrong, I like the place. Alhaitham is a quiet roommate. I just can’t stand his attitude most of the time! If I wanted a lecture, I would’ve gone to the Akademiya and talked to my old professors.”

The blonde crosses his arms. “What about you, (Y/N)? I’m not going to lie, Alhaitham made a great recommendation of you being the Scribe. That’s the only thing I could commend him for this week, at least.”

“What?” You weren’t aware of that. Your thumbs fiddle with your skirt. “Uh, yeah. I’ll make sure to thank him later.”

“Oh, sweet (Y/N), you’re to kiiiiiind,” He slurs. “I wish you were my roommate instead.”

Your best friend reaches to twirl your hair. In your drunken stupor, you giggle with a light blush painting your cheeks.

A bottle clangs on the table. “Another one, please.”

A heavy presence sits beside you. You look, and Alhaitham was already downing a shot, throat bobbing.

In the background, your friends laugh while Kaveh groans.

Has Haitham always been this beautiful?

The silver-haired man looks at you. “Enjoying Kaveh’s tales?”

“It’s always a fun story when you’re involved.” You giggle, flushing under his gaze. “Everything about you is so entertaining, Haitham.”

Your flushed face does something to his chest. He gives you another shot. “That’s why your colleagues used to look at you weird. Whenever Kaveh wasn’t around, you’d hang out with me, even when I clearly wanted to be alone,” He laments.

“Says the one who used to follow me around like a puppy! We were mismatched weirdos,” You don’t notice the blush creep up on his cheeks. You smile at him earnestly, whispering. “I’m glad you didn’t change– oops!”

The chair creaks and you stumble into his arms. You look up, seeing his face and amber eyes close to yours. Heat emanates from the grip on your waist, and your hands feel hot on his chest. Sparks flew to your core.

“Get a room! You know what, I’m staying in Cyno’s tonight. He never sleeps anyway,” Kaveh’s shouts break the stupor and you push Alhaitham away. He stumbled, and Cyno was on his side in an instant. “You heard him. Kaveh, it’s time for you to clock out. Tighnari, let’s continue this game next time.”

The three of them exit the tavern. ‘Make Alhaitham pay the tab! He’s so unfair!’ Kaveh says, and Alhaitham begrudgingly does so when both of you have sobered enough to walk home.

You don’t know if it’s the leftover alcohol in your system, but the night sky swirls above both of you. “Ah… I never knew… howmuchImissedbeinghere,”

“Easy there,” He catches you again when you stumble. “Where are we going, Haitham?”

“To your place, of course. You’re exhausted from work. You need to rest.”

“What? But I thought…” Your mind goes blank. Alhaitham looks at you with hope in his eyes, but the light is gone in a split second.

“You thought what?” When you don’t answer, he stops on his tracks. “You thought what, (Y/N)? Tell me.”

“Nothing.” He looks away. You face him. “But… I think… my place is too far. Can we go to yours instead?”

You seal your fate with those words.

The heat from both of your bodies encapsulated the whole room.

Alhaitham’s hands slowly grip your curves. Passion and lust melted into two souls that yearned for each other for so long.

“Haitham…” You breathe out, shivering from his fingers ghosting on your skin. You feel like you’re on fire, and his warmth only served to fan your flames higher.

“I wanted you for so long… you’re so beautiful…” He gasps, fumbling around your blouse buttons. Despite his rough kisses, he handles you gently– like porcelain glass, a gift getting unwrapped for the first time.

When you finally undressed, Alhaitham almost couldn’t believe his eyes.

The one woman he had been obsessed with, laid out before him. His for the taking.

You shiver at his gaze. You hold out your hand, shaking from the cold. And arousal. “C-Come… Haitham… you can do whatever you want with me…”

And so he does. He climbs to your bed like a predator hunting the prey. You lie in wait as you let him take the lead. Kissing all over your breasts, suckling on your nipples, sending shivers to your core. You try to squeeze your legs for relief, but Haitham stops you by putting his knees in between your legs.

He clicks his tongue. “You’ll only cum on my mouth, fingers, or cock tonight, baby.”

You shudder at his words. Down he goes, settling himself between your soft thighs. You flush, your cunt surely eager and wet, aching for his touch. He licks a stripe in your pussy, and you moan. “H-haitham!”

He licks more eagerly, like a man starved. Never in a million years you’d ever thought that you would be this vulnerable and intimate. At the hands of your junior, no less. His face on your thighs and his mouth on your clit, sucking like you were his last meal.

Your head was in the clouds. Your hands move to his head, tugging roughly.

He growls. “You wanna play rough? I can play rough.”

You sigh. “Keep–going– Haitham…”

He spits on your cunt. He slurps on your mixed juices. “I-I’m close…”

He stops and you whine. Your legs are pulled to the end of the couch, and you watch him as he fumbles with his clothes. When he finally emerges stark naked in front of you, you notice his large cock, angrily red at the tip.

That won’t fit inside you.

“Wait– Haitham!” He positions himself in front of your legs, rubbing his cock on your entrance. “Yes, baby?”

“You– You might not fit inside me,” You flush deeper when he laughs. “I’m being serious!”

“We’ll never know if we don’t find out.” He enters you, and you moan. You try to cover your mouth from letting such embarrassing sounds come out, but he pins your arms above you. “I want to hear you.”

He rocks into you, like two bodies connecting with each other have waited for a long time.

Alhaitham observes your face, sketches it to his memory. The way your eyes glisten, and your mouth opens in pleasure. The curve of your hips and waist, the slope of your nose, the plush of your lips, and the tears in your eyes. You’ve grown into a fine young woman as he expected, and it was a blessing that you came home so unexpectedly.

Your pussy is heavenly. All his teenage fantasies culminated to this one night– his childhood crush, sprawled out in his bed and legs open like a slut. He’ll make sure that your skin is marked all over. Let everyone know that you’re his, and no one else’s.

“Haa… Feels so good…” You were equally drenched in sweat and your tears, pleasure overcoming your senses. You feel him suck your nipples again, sending you more pleasure to your core.

“You’re so fucking tight– that’s it, baby, suck me in,” He groans, as you feel yourself tumbling over the edge. The coil in your stomach tightens and you moan, and it suddenly snaps– “Ah!”

Your juices make a mess on his stomach, his thighs, and yours. You heave and gasp your breath, shivering.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, I’m here, you’re safe,” Warm arms envelop you, and you close your eyes.

You sleep soundly in Alhaitham’s arms.

Time goes on, and your passionate meetings with Alhaitham are repeated.

You gave yourself to him again, and again, and again. At his house, when Kaveh is away with his clients. In his study, when he’s stressed. On his couch, when both of you are drunk and give in to lust before going to the bedroom. For the past month, you can’t count how many times you woke up seeing the lush green of his windows and his warm body curled up around yours.

His visits became frequent on your own study. He brings you coffee. You spend the whole day drafting and writing, and he reads his book in the corner of your room like a loyal attendant.

It’s domestic. Sometimes, you often wonder what life will be if you decide to stay.

(Is there a future with Alhaitham? You ask yourself one afternoon when you see the man sleeping on your mini desk. His silver hair softly flutters in the wind, and on his hand is a document you handed him to put by one of the bookshelves.

It would be good if he could join me in traveling the world. You stamp your last document for the day.

You walk and place a kiss on his forehead to wake him up. “Work’s done, sweetie.”

You would miss him terribly.)

One morning, your jolly footsteps alert people in the street. “Haitham!” You whisper excitedly. The door opens, and you enter before he can even offer for you to come inside. “I got it!”

He raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure what it is, but I’m proud of you.”

“I’m going back to Fontaine to teach! The stakeholders said there was an error in the calculations; they’re ready to fund my investment again!” You hug him tight. Joy pours out of your body.

(You don’t notice him freeze.)

“I’m so happy… I honestly thought that this was the end of my life’s purpose…” You trail off. Alhaitham hugs you back. His grip tightens on your waist.

“I can finally come back to the kids in Fontaine…” You trail off when you see him looking far into the distance.

You frown. You know better than most people that he’s not the most expressive person, but you thought that he would at least crack a smile for you.

You hastily pull away from your hug. “I’m sorry for bothering you. I just wanted you to know first, since you’re… very special to me,” Your face was red from shame, and from not knowing how to describe your relationship with Alhaitham correctly. “I’ll go tell Tighnari and the others now.”

A beat passes. “(Y/N).”

You turn around, hand clutching your bag. Alhaitham stands still on the doorway in the same position that you left him.

Then, he smiles– crooked and ominous, like he was forcing himself.

Perhaps he is.

A shiver goes down your spine. He speaks, confident and clear– like it wasn’t the most obvious lie. “I’m happy for you.”

The door closes behind him. This time, your feet fight the urge to get out of this city as soon as possible.

Your happiness ended as quickly as it came.

The newspaper plastered on the board of Port Ormos sits still despite the rough winds, like it knows how heavy the burden of the message it carries.

Yorun Investors dead on ambush

An Adventurer’s Guild member sighs, discouraged. A businessman– from Sneznhaya, you would assume from his attire– exclaims. “That would mean their investments are also cut off? Drat! Half of my businesses rely on their funding!”

People pile up to see the newsboard, collectively murmuring. You stand still, motionless. Bricks are piled on your hands and your feet.

You can always find other investors, of course. Just like you did four years ago.

How long would that take?

You walk home, absentminded. You pass by the Tavern, then the Akademiya. Walking by Alhaitham’s house doesn't even spark excitement inside you. Calling your other friends isn’t a choice, either.

You just want to wake up from this dream.

When you arrived, Someone was waiting on your doorstep.

“Alhaitham?” Thesman stands up straight. How long was he waiting? “(Y/N), I apologize for how I acted yesterday. I hope you forgive me.”

When you remain quiet, he continues. “I also heard about what happened. I don’t mean to mock you, (Y/N). I’m truly sorry to hear about it.”

Tears start falling down your face, which turn into full, ugly sobs. He walks gently, as if you’ll break into pieces if he makes the wrong move. He holds up his arms.

You bury your face in his chest and cry.

Living with Alhaitham was happier than you’d thought it would be.

It’s been months since you took his embrace on your front porch. You spent sleepless nights with him, writing letters for every investor or kind soul who’s kind enough to fund your endeavors, even for a penny.

You were desperate. If the higher ups knew the struggle you’re going through right now, you’re sure that they’re laughing at you.

(Not that you cared. Alhaitham stayed up writing letters with you, and that’s all the support that you need.)

You waited, waited, and waited. Yet every reply was rejection. Your partner saw you break down, and he’s always there to pick you back up.

His clothes are strewn all over your house, as if he lives there now.

“Coffee?” He offers. You nod. A giggle comes out of your mouth when you see a purple hickey on his neck, barely covered by his shirt.

It’s been months since he heard your laugh. He stops stirring the cup he’s prepared for you. Alhaitham looks back, says sincerely, “I’m glad you stayed.”

An uncomfortable feeling brews once again. You tell yourself that you’ll get used to it.

You still have hope that one day, your feet will step out again to reach your dreams.

But for now, everything that you need in Sumeru City. The perfect partner, an authentic group of friends, a beautiful community, and a stable (but boring) job.

You’ll never have to venture out again.

(The evergreen shrubs outside your house starts to grow.)

“She’s settling in well?”

“Yes, she’s resting,” Alhaitham sits on the makeshift chair. Ghandarva Ville was far, but it’s where less people are around. Besides, no one would dare trespass in Tighnari’s personal home.

“You owe me a favor,” Cyno crosses his arms. “Finding the investor’s carriage was not difficult. They’re pretty famous. But erasing traces is a piece of work. I’m lucky that no one was within the area. Not that they could catch me, anyway.”

The door opens. Tighnari brushes off dirt from his clothing, having come back from burning the investor’s bloodied clothes. He sees the grey-haired man relaxing by his couch. “Are you smiling? Don’t smile. You look weird. Also everything is done, reduced to ashes. What’s our payment, Acting Grand Sage?”

Alhaitham hums, and everything fades into the background. He thinks of you lounging in your home, watering your plants, and decorating your journal. Just like how it’s supposed to be, in the first place. He even cleaned some parts of your house so that you don’t exhaust yourself too much upon your first day.

Thank the Archons that he has the perfect partner, an authentic group of friends, a beautiful community, and a stable job.

(Y/N) will never have to venture out again.

Ever.

#navi's writings #naviavu #yandere genshin impact #yandere kamisato ayato #yandere x you #genshin smut #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact smut #yandere smut #yandere genshin #yandere alhaitham #alhaitham smut

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ceilidho · 11 months ago

Text

prompt: IKEA soap/reader fic. PART 1. tags: dubcon

You duck behind a stack of boxes when you hear Johnny come whistling into the warehouse.

He shouts your name out somewhere off on the other side of the warehouse, voice echoing through the building. You keep absolutely still, fingers clamped around the clipboard that’s pressed close to your chest. Even your breathing slows, open-mouthed so as to keep it almost soundless. It’s strategic. You’ve gotten good at making yourself invisible back here, practically melting into the stack of boxes.

A minute or two goes by with repeated calls of your name, echoing from different parts of the warehouse like Johnny’s making the rounds. Searching for you. He’s probably been looking around the store for ages, with his track record. Someone must have let it slip that you were assigned to inventory today instead of being out on the floor.

You only let out a sigh when it’s been long enough that any reasonable person might have given up on trying to find you in the loading dock.

“Hiding from someone?” a deep voice asks from behind you.

Your gut all but self-ejects. When you turn around, he’s standing there in the same bright blue shirt that you also wear. His is stretched tight across his chest though, like it’s a size too small. You wonder sometimes if it’s on purpose. It’s hard not to let your eyes wander, but by now you’ve trained yourself to keep your eyes level when speaking to Johnny.

“Nope,” you squeak. “Just…you know…counting. Counting boxes and…stacks.”

He laughs, loud enough to make you startle. It’s far too enthusiastic, like you told a particularly funny joke instead of stumbling over your words and you still don’t actually know if he finds you funny or not.

“Cool,” Johnny says, taking a step closer to you. The clipboard doesn’t feel sufficient enough to put any real distance between the two of you. “Thought I could maybe come hang out with ye back here. Dinnae want ye to feel lonely.”

“Nope, not lonely at all. Totally peachy. Actually glad I could catch a break from…everyone.” You take a step back.

He follows you, another step forward. “Aye, dinnae worry, I get what ye mean. Some of the others—” he whistles, “—right buggers. Glad to catch a break myself as well.”

A bead of sweat rolls down the back of your neck. “Aren’t you supposed to be…out in the front? I, uh, don’t want you to get in trouble with Jeff—”

“Ah, Jeff’s fine, kitty, dinnae worry about me,” Johnny coos, sounding pleased as punch. He takes you at face value instead of reading into the set of your jaw and the way you keep inching away from him as he gets closer to you, convinced that you genuinely in your heart care about whether he gets written up or not. “They fuckin’ love me, ye ken? Think he wants ta take me out for lunch tomorrow, but told him I’d only go if he invited ye as well.”

“Oh. That’s nice,” you whisper instead of screaming. You’re doing that a lot these days. Talking through the scream bubbling behind your front teeth.

“Would ye want ta then?” he asks, suddenly in your face, three quick steps bridging the gap between you in barely a second, hardly enough time for you to blink. You blink and it’s just Johnny, in startling definition. Thick eyebrows and scar across his chin, the bridge of his nose perfect like he’s never broken it before. “Grab some lunch with me?”

“I, uh…I brought my lunch from home.”

“It’s a’right, I’ll buy it for ye, hen. Dinnae need ta waste your money.” Sometimes when he talks to you, he gets like this, fervent and almost desperate. He seems only half aware of it. “Ye like that mediterranean place nearby, right? Seen ye go there once or twice; wanted ta tag along, but dinnae want ta alarm ye.”

“You saw me go there?” you repeat.

“Aye, happened ta glance out the window when ye were on your lunch break. Back before management changed my break time. Cheers for that as well because it was really startin’ ta bother me, ye ken? Not being able ta eat with my favourite coworker.”

You never know how to respond when Johnny lets on a bit too much about how he feels about you. Sometimes he slips up and it comes rushing out, a big spool of thread unwinding in front of you.

“Yeah, well…I don’t know about today but maybe…” you say, trailing off. There’s a danger in just brushing him off, you feel.

“Tomorrow then,” he decides, grin still splitting his face. “I’m no’ on the schedule, but I can drop by at your lunch break and go with ye. How’s that sound?”

“Well, you know…it sounds…” He’s close enough now that if you lean forward, you’ll faceplant in between his pecs. Despite everything, you have to slightly fight the urge. Sometimes you think it’d be easier if he weren’t so absurdly gorgeous. It doesn’t make any of his actions okay, it doesn’t excuse his behaviour just because he’s pretty, yet still he pulls you in somehow, magnetic. “It sounds—you know, actually, I think Jeff wanted to talk to me about something, so if you don’t mind—”

Johnny tries to say something, but you manage to duck around him and scurry off, disappearing into the stacks of boxes before pressing forward until you burst out the main doors out of the warehouse. It leads to a hall that goes towards the store, but you haul it to the women’s washroom instead. The one place he can’t follow you inside.

In the washroom, you can finally breathe. Resting your hands on either side of the sink, you look into the mirror where haggard eyes with deep circles underneath stare back at you.

You flinch when one of the toilets flush and the stall door opens, another coworker stepping out.

“Did I hear Johnny outside?” she asks, taking the sink beside you to wash her hands. You nod, still tongue tied. “He really follows you everywhere, huh?”

For a second, your shoulders relax. “God, I know, he’s always just hovering—”

She cuts you off, sighing dreamily. “You’re so lucky. He’s so hot, it’s unreal. I can’t believe he works here, like that’s insane. I’d kill to have him as obsessed with me as he is with you.”

“He’s—he’s not into me, he’s just…you know, he just hovers.”

The water shuts off. Your coworker shoots you a dubious look, almost mocking. “Yeah, alright. Sure. Not into you. Not like he hangs off your every word. You don’t have to be humble—we’re already jealous. It’s like rubbing it in when you pretend like it’s totally normal.”

You slump, defeated, when she leaves without drying her hands. It’s moot to try and commiserate with anyone. They don’t see him the way you do, not for who he is. Your coworkers love Johnny; you’ve seen someone genuinely fistpump after being scheduled with him.

They don’t see any of the weird shit though. They don’t see the way he insists on walking you to your car well into the evening after a closing shift together. They don’t notice the way Johnny laughs a little too hard and with too much vigour when someone calls him your shadow, his eyes just a little too bright and fervent.

They’re never around to see him ask if you want to sit on his lap while he shows you how to use the forklift in the backroom. They’ve never seen him beg management to let him take his breaks with you and doesn't let you have a moment of peace, just sits with you in the breakroom or follows you to your car when you say that you're going out for lunch.

Sometimes you look at him and think, this guy should not be in the Appliance section of a big box store. Johnny should be on the front cover of magazines, in commercials for toothpaste, acting in Hallmark movies, or maybe hand modelling for obscenely ornate watch companies that cost the equivalent of a mortgage—not handing out free samples of sliced cheese.

That was then.

It starts like this: an overeager sales associate who butts his way to the front of the line on your first day.

You think at first that you’re golden. It seems like a sweet deal—an easy enough job, maybe not what you went to school for, but still something to pass the time and not too backbreaking. Plus, the guy shaking your hand and chatting up a storm in front of you is making you melt inside. He’s easy on the eyes—all bright smiles, effortless charm, either just brushing or exactly six feet, and built. Broad shouldered and lean.

Johnny’s a model employee as well—knows the handbook inside and out, and shows you the ropes on your first day along with the assistant manager giving you a tour of the store, which is helpful because there’s at least three floors that you could easily get lost on. He walks elderly customers to their cars with their bags, shows up to work early for every shift, always with a smile and a positive attitude, and you find out early on that management loves him because of his frankly incredible sales record.

(And you get it too; you can’t imagine anyone looking into those gorgeous blue eyes and turning him down.)

He's also a spokesperson for the company in all of their internal training videos because he was hired through some “Jobs for Vets” program that they just rolled out. The guy can also stack things on a shelf like no one's business, products lined up with military precision (hence the ex-military status).

All in all, you can’t help feeling like for once in your life, you didn’t draw the short stick.

Then one day, you’re alone with Johnny in the breakroom early in the morning before the store has opened yet and he turns to you with a wide, boyish grin and says apropos of nothing, “Named my fleshlight after you.”

You think your brain skips a couple tracks like a record player. You rewind and replay what was just said to you. There’s no two ways about it—you must have misheard him. Of course you did because surely your coworker of two months didn’t just look you in the eyes and say with a sweet sunshine smile that he named his sex toy after you.

He doesn’t laugh, just stands there and smiles while stirring sugar into his coffee. He takes it black. You take note of that because the brain still has to work when the mind shuts down momentarily, so you use it instead to catalogue things around the breakroom. One of the motivational posters hanging near the door is hung a bit off-centre. The fluorescent lightbulb on the far side of the room is dimmer than the others. Johnny’s eyes have a little light spot in them like the tip of an ocean wave.

“Excuse me?” you ask, dumbfounded. Your voice sounds hollow even to you.

“I named her after ye,” he repeats, not a trace of shame in his voice. “Used ta not have a name at all, but figured since I say it so much when I’m enjoyin’ her, she might as well share it with ya.”

He stares at you after saying that, letting it hang in the air. Your brain chooses that moment to come back online and all it can do is load that image of Johnny home alone with his fleshlight, toes curled in his sheets and the muscles of his legs straining as he moans your name. All you can do is give a little awkward laugh, growing more uncomfortable by the second the longer he stares at you without blinking.

Then, something passes over his eyes and suddenly he's back to normal, laughing and clapping you on the arm before wandering off to the men's apparel section.

It leaves you reeling for the rest of the day, sure you imagined it. It recontextualizes a few things for you though. He’s always been on the handsy side, verging on inappropriate, but skirting just enough around the edges of it that you usually brush off Johnny’s weird behaviour. Chalk it up to annoying little brotherly tendencies. You know he has a few older sisters anyway; you figured it was just how he related to women in his environment.

Not so.

It escalates after that initial escalation. Not that things started off on an appropriate note, but at least before you could rationalize most of his quirks.

Now it’s this: his hand on your lower back during work hours when you’re busy helping a customer and he sidles up next to you, pinkie brushing so low on your back that you worry for a second that he might slip it down the back of your pants. Lifting you up by the hips whenever you have a hard time reaching something on a shelf instead of just reaching up and grabbing it for you. A complete misuse of his height. He digs his fingers into your sides and never lets you go right away when he puts you down.

“Aw shit, bonnie,” he coos when you complain about it hurting you. “Dinnae mean ta hurt ye. Want me to give ye a little massage in the breakroom?”

You learn quickly that there’s no point in complaining about his behaviour to anyone. You can't complain to any of your coworkers because the second you so much as criticize his work, they bark at you to be nice to him. He's just re-acclimating to civilian life, of course he's not perfect at his job yet, they say. They defend him almost viciously; the real jealous ones even tell on you in front of him, leaving you to stand there embarrassed and on the spot until Johnny just smiles and says that it's alright. That you'll just have to teach him better.

There’s not much you can do besides grin and bear it. You can hope one day that you'll get transferred; you don't have much hope for him being transferred. Not with how endeared he is to management.

When you finally open the door, ready to leave the bathroom and get back to work, you nearly scream when Johnny lurches off the wall across from the bathroom door where he’s been leaning. Waiting for you.

“C’mon, hen,” he says, all teeth. “Lemme walk ye back ta work.”

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #soap x you #soap/reader #ikea soap #john mactavish #soap mw2 #soap mactavish #soap cod

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beomie3 · 4 months ago

Text

lavender - choi yeonjun

boyfriend!yeonjun x fem!reader

content: established relationship, period sex, yeonjun pampers you after being in pain from cramps all day, runs you a lavender bath, soothes your period cramps with a special remedy ;)

warning: fluff & smut, cursing, bath sex, cream pie, fingering, cramps </3, extreme princess treatment <3

wc: 2.5k

♫ lavender - laundry day

“junieeeeeeee” your voice comes out muffled from under your pillow, face stuffed in it as a strong wave of cramps tighten in your abdomen.

your face is scrunched as tight as you can get it, fists clenched around the linen of the pillowcase, wrinkling it in the same spot all day as your cramps came and went as they pleased.

“another one baby?” he runs out from the kitchen, hand towel thrown over his shoulder as he was just preparing you soup for dinner, despite you not having much of an appetite all day.

he comes over to where you laid on the couch, kneeling down next to you and examining your face, a worried pout on his cute lips.

he cupped your face in his palm, his fingers coming up to stroke your hair.

“i’m so sorry,” his eyebrows furrowed, wanting to do everything in his power to help you and hating that he couldn’t just magically make the cramps disappear with the snap of his fingers.

you admitted that the sight of his handsome face briefly distracted you from the anguish, just focusing into the depths of his eyes and letting their deep brown magic entrance you.

just then, you noticed the shape of his eyes change from worrisome to intrigued, like an idea just sparked his mind.

“let me take care of this,” he slightly tilted his head toward you, eyes tentatively searching yours. “okay, baby?”

you nodded, a tiny smile appearing on the corner of your lip as he fiddled with the ends of your hair.

"come here," he cooed, leaning down to scoop you up in his arms, hands sliding beneath your shoulder blades, his chest pressing into yours as you inhaled his fresh scent.

"up we go," he lifted you so that your chest was pressed to his, legs wrapped around his hips, chin resting against his shoulder; body limp in his arms. he carried you down the dim hallway of your shared apartment and into the bedroom, where he laid you down onto the fluffy sheets, still unmade from this morning.

he covered you with the sheets as you curled up into a ball on the bed, quickly running into the bathroom and you heard the squeak of the faucet followed by the cascade of water in the tub. he was running you a warm bath; exactly what you needed.

the white noise of running water in the distance was so soothing, you could’ve dozed off for a while. he was taking a bit longer than usual to run this bath, you admitted. so much longer, that you began to wonder what he was doing in there.

he came back into the room with your fluffy white robe and your slippers, bringing a genuine smile to your lips at his thoughtfulness.

“let me help you love,” he helped you sit up, a gentle hand on your lower stomach softly adding pressure in small circular motions. he helped you slide out of your clothes from today, technically still your pajamas since it was an incredibly lazy day.

you noticed his eyes linger on your chest for a second longer, knowing he couldn’t never resist the sight of your soft, bare chest.

he caught your eye and his cheeks turned the slightest hue of scarlet, helping you into your cozy robe; so much better. leaving your underwear on so you wouldn’t stain the sheets, you sat at the edge of the bed.

“ready? here let me carry you there,” his arms were already extended out to you and you weakly laughed.

“yeonjun- i can walk you know…” you scooted to the edge of the bed, and just as you were going to stand up, a cramp hit you right in the guts. the worst one of today.

you immediately curled back into your ball from earlier, and he knew right away when he saw you clutch your stomach.

“oh baby,” he laid next to you, eyebrows furrowed, lips pouting. he knew you needed space in this moment, so he offered his hand as something you could squeeze while your cramps subsided.

his hands were always so soft, so delicate. you even felt bad squeezing them too hard.

“never mind, i probably can’t walk,” your voice came out small, followed by a weak laugh.

“the warm water will feel nice,” he softly pecked your neck, just under your ear.

picking you up softly, barely enough to even know you were being picked up at all if it weren’t for your eyes fluttering open; he carried you through the dim hallway again, gently kicking the bathroom door open.

you expected the lights to be on, but the bathroom was dim; only orange flickers casted against the wall by candlelight.

he carefully set you down back onto your feet and you admired what he had done. the bath was filled with bubbles and rose petals, accompanied by a tray of your favorite snacks and drinks. scented candles flickering enough to light the bath. it was exactly what you needed.

kneeling to the ground, yeonjun held you by your hips to keep you standing while he helped slip off your underwear. his eyes were tender on you, gently tracing your hip bones as he hooked a finger under the elastic of you underwear and slipped it off slowly.

you couldn’t help but feel a gentle heat grow in between your legs. he knew what he was doing, that’s for damn sure.

“c’mon baby i’ll help you in,” he stood up slowly, towering over you, eyes never leaving yours. like they were undressing you, although you were already naked.

he took each of your hands, leading you to the bathtub, there to help you balance as you stepped in, one foot at a time.

the water wasn’t scalding hot, but it was hot enough to make you sigh in relief. a slightly painful but pleasurable burn.

he helped lower you to the water inch by inch until you were totally in, bubbles fluffing up around your body. you inhaled the soothing lavender scent of the steam: he had added lavender oil and a purple bath bomb to the water. he is so special.

he stayed there with you, kneeling by the side of the bathtub. not much was said, but a lot of looks were interchanged. his eyes were tender, small smile on his lips.

he sat crisscross on the rug on the other side of the bath, hands gently sloshing the bubbles over your skin, fingers massaging the knots in your shoulders. his kind energy flowed throughout you.

the hot water is so soothing against your aching belly and tense muscles. every month, he always treats you, gives you what you deserve and no less.

he lathers a loofah up with oatmeal-lavender soap, gently rubbing it in circles against your wet skin. the sensation is so relaxing you could drift off into a deep sleep.

he gently moves a piece of your hair that had fallen out of your updo with the gentle trace of his touch. he is so gentle with you.

you watch him as he is busy washing you up, love sparking in the depths of your eyes. how did you find such an all-around amazing and caring man?

you’re attentive to his hand that is resting on your thigh underwater, rubbing circles on your knee with the swipe of his thumb.

“junie,” your voice echoes from the pink tile of your bathroom. his eyes glow as they meet yours, 100% of his attention on you at an instant.

you don’t say anything else but lean forward to kiss him. he kisses you back with so much passion, like he’s been dying to kiss you this entire time but didn’t want to disrupt your peace.

he gently scrubs the soap around your chest, abandoning the loofah and using his bare hand to rub the slick foam over the soft, tender skin. he knows your boobs are sore because of your period, so he is extra gentle.

the heat immediately returns to your aching core, making the urge even worse. you need him.

“i need you,” you whisper against his lips and he knows what to do before you even speak any further. he sits up, quickly slipping his black tank top off, hair tousled by the material.

“oh baby, i’ll make you feel so good,” he leans into the kiss, sensing his hand trail even closer to your heat, throbbing by now with how badly it ached for him. you’re so wet, even underwater.

his tongue enters your mouth as his fingers meet your bundle of nerves, so sensitive that you slightly jolt with the pressure.

you let your head fall back onto the shower wall as you sigh in bliss and he kisses your neck, rubbing delicious circles over your clit. he knows exactly what pace you need.

“that’s it love, relax,” he kisses the place under your ear as he watches you melt into his touch, mouth slightly agape in pleasure.

your mouth widens into an o-shape when he slowly sinks one finger into you, entering you with ease with how slick you are.

his kisses are soft against your neck, perfect lips caressing your skin. not too rough yet not too faint. his precise kisses make the pleasure all the more intense. his other hand gently fondled your breasts, thumbs soft over your perked-up nipples.

you were climbing up the mountain of pleasure, but some horny monster inside of you needed something more. something bigger.

“yeonjun i… need you so bad,” you managed to speak through gritted teeth. his fingers felt so good but you felt so greedy in this moment. you could sense the orgasm; how much more intense it would be if you were wrapped around his cock.

“whatever you want, my love,” he presses a kiss to your forehead and you sense that a grin had spread across his face at hearing your words.

he stands and your eyes follow, watching him untie the strings of his sweatpants, dropping them to the floor to discover a stiff imprint that sticks out through his boxers.

your legs squeeze together under the water; you just can’t wait to sit on him, feel the delicious stretch. oh you couldn’t wait.

it’s like he’s teasing you with how slowly he removes his boxers, just waiting for his member to spring up and out when he removes them completely. and sure enough, it slaps up against his abdomen, tip dark red and so ready for you.

you scoot over so that he can step into the warm water, watching the bubbles slosh around when he sits all the way down. he helps you maneuver yourself so that he’s sitting up, legs stretched out in the tub and you’re straddling him, chest pressed to his.

like magnets, your lips reunite and continue what they were doing before, just this time you grind against him, bodies doing all the talking.

some of the lavender oil yeonjun added to the water helps you slide against one another’s skin, the feeling simply addictive as you sense his tip nudge against your throbbing clit.

he senses your urgency and pulls back from the kiss, glancing down at himself; he is rock hard but this isn’t about him. it’s about your pleasure. that’s what he’s all about.

“wanna sit down on it? hm?” his words make your heart race and you nod, nearly feverish with just how badly you want him. he guides you with a firm grasp on your waist, helping you lift up your hips as you align yourself with his tip.

sliding down onto him completely bare, you thought you could explode. you felt every single vein, pulse, twitch. it felt so good against your sore and aching walls.

“oh god yeonjun,” you were nearly speechless once you sat down all the way onto him, feeling his tip kiss the depths of your walls. he felt so full, but the stretch was so amazing, such a good ache.

his eyes were full of need but he was so patient and let you take the time to adjust to his size. he wanted you to use him, pleasure yourself with him. his soft fingers over your skin was entrancing, cock pulsating within you even though you hadn't even begun to move.

“knock yourself out baby,” he held your chin with his fingers, kissing your lips gently and you felt you would go insane with the sound of those words echo throughout the bathroom.

with two hands on his chest to keep you stable, you begin to ride him. starting off slow, and then picking up the pace when you adjusted to his size a bit better. god did he feel amazing around your aching walls.

the eye contact you made could make you orgasm all on its own. his fierce eyes staring up at you and boarding into your soul, mouth agape as he moaned and encouraged you to ride his cock until your hearts content.

he knew a good orgasm would help and oh god are you close. he had already edged you slightly before this, the build-up was so satisfying.

you were in a daze; body still a bit limp and weak from all of the pain you experienced today yet you rode him with passion, feeling your entire body melt around him. he sensed your walls tense up and you threw your head back, eyes shut as you felt his every pulse and throb.

you bounced on him more aggressively now and in his eyes, you were the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen. the way your head was thrown back pleasuring yourself with him, your pretty moans echoing throughout the dim bathroom, candlelight gleaming against your skin like silk.

lavender bath water sloshed and some spilled over and out but neither of you cared. he just watched you and guided you with a firm grip on your waist and you climbed to your orgasm until it hit you like a truck.

a few more rolls of your hips and his tip massaged against your g-spot one last time until a loud slew of moans echoed throughout the bathroom and your body tensed. it was an earth-shattering orgasm. your muscles fluttered all around him sporadically and it drove him to his climax, catching his moans with a deep kiss as he spilled inside of you.

the sensation was so warm and fuzzy within you so much so that your body just collapsed onto his chest. every ache and pain completely left your abdomen and you swore you were in heaven.

his arms wrapped around you as his soft lips kissed your forehead repeatedly, whispering sweet things into your hair as you huffed in unison. he was your everything.

the night went as follows: he cleaned you up and wrapped you in a warm linen towel, carrying you to bed where he helped you into some fresh jammies (his oversized t-shirt and basketball shorts). of course, he brought you your soup and a heating pad just in case, along with some of your favorite sea salt chocolate and some ice cream <3 you both watched movies the rest of the night, and you knew he'd help your every need, no matter how messy it got ;)

author's note: thank you so much for reading!!! and thank you so so much for over 900 followers and for the endless support, you each mean so much to me <33333

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withahappyrefrain · 5 months ago

Text

Just a Game

You and Peter like to play a game. It requires no trivia or plastic pieces. Just two people and feigned innocence.

Warnings: CNC (which has been discussed explicitly) unprotected sex, language, minor breeding kink at the very end

You and Peter like to play a game.

It's not a board game, though you two enjoy those from time to time. Not a video game, though Peter has expressed interest.

This game doesn't require any trivia knowledge or plastic pieces. No one has to keep track of points. There isn't a timer.

All this game requires is a surface and your two bodies.

Sometimes it was a couch, when you two were in the middle of watching a movie. Other times it could be your kitchen counter, dinner be damned. Rarely, it would be the back of a car, which was your favorite. Peter’s favorite-against a wall- depended on when and where.

Today the surface was your shared bed.

It started innocently, like it always does. Peter found you curled up in bed, reading. He hadn’t considered playing today. But then he saw you, wearing only one of his hoodies and those pastel yellow panties that drove him wild.

It didn’t help that Peter could smell you. Though the cover of your book didn't look out of the ordinary, your arousal revealed the true nature of your reading choice.

“What’cha reading ladybug?” He asked, curling up to you.

You put on an innocent smile, keeping the book to your chest, “Oh nothing. Just one of those silly romance books.”

Peter raised his eyebrows, “Silly? Let me see.”

Before you could squeak out an objection, Peter snatched the book away, his eyes scanning the page you were on.

“He pushed her dress up to her hips, revealing her wet core. He dove in, lapping up her arousal like a starved man, his mouth quickly attaching itself to her clit.”

Sometimes you got so caught up in playing your role. Peter had said much dirtier things to you and yet there you were, head in your hands and a warm flush coursing through your body.

Peter placed the book on your nightstand before bringing your hands away from your face.

“Oh baby. You’re too sweet to be reading something like that. Why don’t we cuddle instead?”

With his brown puppy dog eyes and sweet smile, he actually sounded genuine. For a moment, you thought he wasn’t inviting you to play. Not when he had his head in your lap, practically purring as your fingernails gently scratched his scalp.

But then his long, nimble fingers made their way under the blanket, grazing against your bare skin, drawing shapes along your thighs as he made his way up your body.

“Peter.” His name was said in a sweet, sing-song voice, “Thought you wanted to cuddle.”

He sat up, pulling you closer, “I do bug.” Peter's other hand was now underneath your shirt, creeping up to your chest..

“Peter,” you could barely breathe, too enthralled with how good his fingers felt kneading your breasts, “This isn’t cuddling.”

“I know,” He sighed, as if he felt some guilt about what he was doing, “But doesn’t it feel good bug?”

You could only nod, breath hitching up when one of his large hands began to toy with the elastic waistband of your panties.

The foreplay was fun, but it wasn't the main focus of the game.

That didn't come until you were underneath him, completely bare and withering as his hard cock slid between your soaked folds. It was a battle, fighting the urge to jerk your hips up, potentially catching him.

“Peter, w-we shouldn't,” your voice was shaky as you tried to come across as worried rather than in a pleasure laced haze.

“I know. We shouldn’t.” He's panting. Peter's lips ghosted over your bare skin, leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses.

In this game, your birth control and five year relationship didn't exist.

No. In this game you were wide-eyed and innocent. In this game, both your heads were clouded with lust, longing threatening to overtake common sense.

“Maybe,” His voice is soft, addictive. “Maybe I-we-just the tip?”

You throw your head back when the head of his cock makes contact with your clit. Desire racked through your body, fingers creating crescent shaped marks along his back as you searched for something, anything to ground you amidst the pleasure haze that was clouding your judgment.

Part of you wanted to break character so he would fuck you sooner.

But where was the fun in that?

“But we-fuck- we don’t have a condom?” A box of condoms was currently stashed away in your nightstand. You had been on birth control for years. There was no concern.

Again, not in this game.

With your wide, doe-like eyes, sweet voice, and withering body, Peter was truly surprised he hadn’t come already.

But where was the fun in that? That didn’t allow him to play, to take off the friendly neighborhood hero mask and act out his deepest desires.

His head dropped down to your chest, his thin pink lips quickly latching on to one of your breasts. Your back arched in pleasure, hands grabbing Peter’s soft chestnut locks upon feeling the scrape of his teeth. His hips continue to thrust forward, reminding you of what was within reach.

“I know, forgot to bring some. It would just-just be the tip,” He sounds like he just ran a marathon. You’re so warm and wet. Everytime the plush head of his cock nudges against your clit, he can feel your walls clenching, trying to catch him, enticing him in.

“Peter,” the way you moan his name is sweeter than any song he’s heard, “We-no. Peter, don’t.”

He’s already grabbed the backs of your thighs, hitching them up to your chest. Now he has the picture view of his cock sliding through your slicked folds. You have the prettiest cunt Peter’s ever seen and God, does he want to use it.

Your hips twitch as he nudges his cock towards your all too welcoming entrance, entranced by how your walls eagerly suck him in. Eyes roll to the back of your head upon feeling the head of his cock begin to stretch you, nearly forgetting your role in all this.

“W-wait!” You try to prop yourself up, try to jerk your hips away.

But Peter is stronger. It drives you crazy, his strength. His hands grasp your shoulders, pushing you back down onto the mattress.

“It’s okay bug. Just the tip, remember?” The ambered irises are blown out with lust. Combined with the downright wicked smirk adorning his handsome face, he looks more devilish than heroic.

It thrills you. No one else sees this side of him, only you. Only you does he feel comfortable enough to indulge in these desires.

For a few moments, it's only the tip, sliding in and out of your tight walls.

Sometimes he’ll dive right in, other times he'll drag it out, as if Peter is truly at war with his morals when it comes to your sweet cunt.

“Just….just the tip,” he whispers, as though he’s trying to convince himself, trying to convince you.

The outcome is clear, but you still nod your head. “Just the tip,” you agree.

“So…fucking tight,” He watches where you two connect in awe, lips parted, “So warm. God…feel fuckin’ incredible.”

The praise leaves goosebumps on your skin, almost distracting enough to not notice that Peter has been slowly pushing his cock in more and more with each passing moment. Your body betrays you, hips jerking upwards in a desperate, near pathetic attempt to get more of his cock.

Sometimes the game is hard to keep up with. There have been times where you both forfeit, craving each other far too much to continue.

If Peter noticed you breaking character, he didn’t acknowledge it. He’s too mesmerized by the way your cunt eagerly welcomes him.

“Fuck, baby, m’sorry, it’s-you feel s’good.” His speech is slurred, drunk off your body. Before you can react, he thrusts forward, filling you to the brim.

Finally.

“Pete-no! We can’t!” You plead, despite your body enthusiastically welcoming the intrusion, “You said-ah! You said the-the tip!”

His cock twitches at your words, at the feigned concern in your voice. His lips ghost over your face, hips increasing the speed of their thrusts.

“I know, I know,” it’s almost convincing, that he truly feels bad for this, for giving in to lust. As if neither of you wanted it.

He picks up his pace, shushing your fake protests. His cock feels incredible, so full. No matter how much prep beforehand, the sheer size of Peter is still an adjustment.

“You'll- you’ll pull out, right?” You gasp, eyes meeting his.

“‘Course bug,” He chuckles.

He won't. But it's the false promises that keep you going.

“As-ah- as long as you pull out, it's okay, right?” You're committed to the role of the naive girlfriend, Peter will give you that. The concern in your eyes is incredibly convincing.

Sometimes he's so caught up in the euphoria of you that he forgets to play along. All he has to do is look you in the eyes to remember his role.

“Yeah, it's okay. God, feels incredible. Your pussy.” He hitched your legs further up until they were nearly resting on his shoulders. The change in angle allowed him to thrust deeper, reaching the spot that made you see stars.

Bliss quickly overcame you, causing you to focus less on the game and more on the coil that was currently winding up in the pit of your stomach, threatening to snap at any moment.

“God, you're clenching me. Can barely pull out.” His pressed his lips against yours, capturing them in a messy kiss.

You shake your head, “Y-you should. Peter!”

But Peter continues, relishing in how tight you're gripping him. It's addictive.

“Everytime I try to pull out, your little cunt sucks me back in. Think she wants me to stay.” His words elicit a downright desperate whimper from you.

“How’s this? I'll stay ‘till ya cum.” His composure was incredible, his voice so soft you almost believed him.

Almost.

Weakly, you nodded as Peter’s perfidious promise promptly pershing into the periphery of your mind. Who could express you to focus, when his nimble fingers were toying with your clit?

Your pleas to stop fade away, occasionally a feeble no falling from your lips. His massive hands were all over you, kneading at your soft skin, sure to leave bruises.

It's one of the best things to Peter, waking up and admiring the work he did on your body from the night before.

But for now, he could enjoy another favorite-you. It was cute, nearly adorable how your legs shook, your hips jerking upwards, desperate to get more despite already being full of him. The pathetic whimpers that fell from your lips, unable to form anything coherent. With each thrust, your breasts bounced against your chest.

It was picturesque. Peter wished he could grab his camera to immortalize this moment, but that would break the illusion.

So instead, his fingers skim your soft skin, tracing over your plush curves, downward until he reaches his desired location.

After all, he promised he'd pull out once you cum. So why not help?

His fingers on your clit felt like lightning, sending a crack of electricity up your spine. It's euphoric, you can't even bother to play along, hands gripping the strands of his hair tightly as the bedroom is quickly filled with your moans.

When you finally get pushed over the pleasurable edge, it’s loud. There are no whines or pleads for Peter to pull out. Only raucous moans that fill the bedroom, combining with the erotic sound of his skin slapping against yours.

“Shit, feel s’good. S’fuckin tight,” He pants, “Babe-baby. You feel s’good. Don’t know if I can pull out.”

His words jolt you out of the lavender haze, reminding you of the part you were still playing.

“N-No. You can’t!”

Peter nods his head, though he’s not agree with you, “M’sorry,feel s’good.”

You try to sit up, to put up a fight. But just as you do, you’re pushed back down, your hands above your head, enclasped with Peter’s. His body covers you like a warm weighted blanket, the kind where it’s so soft and deceptively confining, you can’t get up even if you wanted to. The spicy scent of cinnamon that always lingers on his body floods your nostrils, his mouth swallowing your pleas to stop as his hips erratically slam into yours.

It was blissful. You were enraptured by Peter, by his body, roleplay be damned. Your legs wrapped themselves around his lithe waist, pulling him closer.

Peter reaching his own high triggers yours again, walls clamping tightly down on his cock as he floods you with his warm.

“Baby, m’s’sorry, feels too good,” it's then you register he's still rutting his hips against yours.

Well this is a new move. Usually the game ended at this point.

The chance to prolong, to try something new was thrilling.

So you shook your head. “Peter!” Your moan contained more desire than it did distress, “N-no, you need-oh- pull out!”

But Peter just grunts. It's so animalistic, your thighs clench at the sound. His refractory period was much shorter than anyone else you had been with, no doubt thanks to a radioactive spider bite.

Now sensitivity is surging through your body, pain and pleasure mixing together. He's hitting the spot that makes you see stars, the spot you didn't think existed until you met Peter.

It's getting harder to stay in character. But as long as Peter is trying, so will you.

“Y-you promised you'd pull out!”

“I know,” he groans in your ear, “Shouldn't have such a fucking tight cunt then. Don't know how ya expect me to pull out.”

His teeth sink down into your throat, earning a sharp gasp.

“God, your cunt,” the scruff of his beard scratches against your skin, “Think you want me to cum in ya again.”

You shook your head, “No! Please!” Fingers claw at his strong back to no avail. He continues with his harsh thrusts, paying no attention to how your mixed arousal was leaking onto the sheets.

“No- stop!” But that wasn't your safe word.

He could tell you were already close, your moans increasing in pitch, how your walls were clinging to his cock.

You just needed a little help getting there.

“Gonna cum in ya again. It might just take this time. Is that what you want? For me to fuck a baby in ya?”

The illusion of your feigned innocence shatters, his words igniting a flame in you that can't be fanned out.

You're now wailing, nodding enthusiastically at Peter's words. Fingers which were once clawing at him now grip his shoulders. Instead of jerking away, your hips move upwards.

“Y-yes! Want it to take s’bad! Please fill me up!”

Your voice was nearly unrecognizable; whiny and desperate. It only spurs him on, his cock thrusting into you at a near bruising pace.

Peter's next high is with your’s, hips stuttering as he fills you once more. He knows he could go again, but everyone needs a break, an intermission before the next act.

The next few moments, you two are speechless. The only audible sounds are that of heavy breathing and the overhead ceiling fan.

“Well, that was fun,” you chuckled, running your fingers absentmindedly through his hair.

Peter finally made eye contact with you. His eyes are dark, almost black with lust. The grin on his face is downright wolfish.

“Oh sweetheart, I'm far from done with you.”

You were in for a long night.

#my writing #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #tasm peter parker #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter x reader #tasm peter x reader #tasm fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #peter parker smut #andrew peter parker #tasm spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman x you #spiderman x y/n

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washeduphazbin · 6 months ago

Text

Lady Hell II

You know what's happening bitches! Lady Hell, part II, is officially done; this follows the plot of Dad Beat Dad of Hazbin Hotel with a few little twists and turns thrown in there. Unfortunately, this made me want to write for Alastor

THIS IS FOR YOU @ledendarylearner18, @animequeen4 As Always, MINORS DNI

WARNINGS FOR SMUT: It will happen at the very end. Breeding kink, possessiveness, Alastor being a shithead.

“DUCKLING!” Arms wrapped around your body, and suddenly, you were in the air.

“Luci!” You yelped, hands grabbing onto his shoulders. Looking down, you saw his smile widening. Your voice caught in your throat, and you saw how his eyes were sparkling. It was the first light you’d seen from him in a while; it seemed like it wasn’t a depression day. “Are you okay?”

“More than!” he gushed, setting you down on the ground and planting a fervent kiss on your lips; another squeak escaped. “Guess who's eager to see me?” You tried to answer, but Lucifer’s bubbling excitement cut you off. “CHARLIE!”

“Oh, Lucifer, that’s great!” You gave him a genuine smile, “for what?”

“We’re going to visit her hotel!”

“Me too?”

“Obviously,” he waved you off fondly, “You’re one of the two queens of hell, and you’re coming.”

“We aren’t even married, Lucifer.” You laughed fondly, and he shushed you.

“It doesn’t make you any less a queen, plus...” he swallowed a bit shakily. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You cooed sweetly, leaning forward to kiss his forehead; he let out a shaky breath.

“Lips?”

“Of course,” You murmured, pressing a light kiss to his lips; his hand caressed your cheek, and you leaned into it.

Since your conversation with Lucifer a few months ago, both of you have worked on your feelings and expressed yourself to one another more clearly. Oddly enough, Lucifer reached out to Asmodeus, and he became your couple’s therapist; he was excellent at his job. You even got to meet his partner named Fizz during one session; the poor imp looked like he could shit himself when he first found you and Lucifer sitting in Asmodeus’s office…He was holding a box filled to the brim with sex toys. He let out a shaky “fuck,” as he attempted to bow with the box causing them to spill everywhere. Once he heard you snort out a cackle, it was all over; a pleased smile spread across Fizz’s lips, which had Lucifer looking at you in surprise. Not at the situation, but it was the first time since Lilith left that he heard you laugh as hard as you were now. The clown-like imp began cracking jokes, almost killing you with laughter; you found yourself leaning on Lucifer so he could support your weight. It made Lucifer chuckle fondly in response to your behavior,

“What did I tell ya, Ozzy?” Fizzaroli flew over to his partner and wrapped his mechanical arms around his neck. “Anything can be solved with a bit of laughter.”

It seemed like Lucifer took those words to heart because ever since he’s been doing his best not only to show his devotion to you but also to make you laugh at the littlest things. He created new ducks based on the people he knew and little inventions to show off to you. It’s been a good few months; loving him again was becoming more effortless, and trust began to rekindle between the both of you. Snapping back to the present, Lucifer stepped away and cleared his throat, “We should get ready to go.” You could tell he wanted more but was stepping back for your sake; your heart clenched a bit, but you also understood.

He wasn’t ready yet, and you respected that choice.

“Of course,” you eyed his duck-themed pajamas with a giggle, and he looked at you, completely unaware of his outfit. “I’m always ready to go; you, on the other hand...” you flicked your hair with a wink. You watched his cheeks puff out in frustration, but he didn’t argue with you. It only took a few minutes for him to change into his signature look, looking embarrassed he didn’t notice his outfit choice sooner.

“May I?” He held out his arm, and your hand gently grabbed his bicep. You tried to hide a giggle, feeling him flex beneath your hand; you loved your sweet idiot. A golden portal sparked to life in front of you, and both of you stepped through it. In front of you was the infamous Hazbin Hotel. Lucifer made a face at the establishment, and you lightly slapped his arm,

“Luci,” your voice warned. “Remember, this is Charlie’s idea. Let’s keep that in mind.” He gave a slight nod and knocked on the door, and you could feel the excitement of seeing his daughter practically buzzing underneath his skin. The door opened, and Lucifer was greeted by a nervous-looking Charlie and the worst decorations you’ve ever seen in your life. With a slight flinch, you tried to give Charlie an encouraging smile. She was about to open her mouth to speak, but Lucifer immediately wrapped his arms around her. She let out a squeak as he greeted her rather awkwardly. She nodded at you once she was released from her father’s hold and cleared her throat.

“Mom, Dad.” She greeted, fidgeting, “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!” Keekee swarmed between Lucifer’s legs, and he cooed softly at her; once the demon cat recognized you, she immediately jumped onto your shoulders, purring sweetly against your cheek. You hummed, scratching her under her chin,

“Hello, Keekeey.” She purred louder, and you watched as Razzel and Dazzel rushed over to Lucifer, loving the attention of their creator. Lucifer looked around the place, seemingly trying to find the appropriate words to describe the hotel. You winced,

“Well, the place has a lot of character—what in the unholy hell is this?” he yelled, pointing to the bar area and its atrocious color scheme.

“These are just some of the renovations we have done. It adds a bit of color, don’t you think?”

“What is this? What are you, the bellhop?” You could see the demon’s lips twitch in a displeased smile; Lucifer sent a pout your way.

“You may have heard me from my radio broadcast.” Lucifer may not have heard of him, but you certainly did. It took you a moment to fully recognize them. After all, it was your job to take care of things in Hell when Lucifer could not. Technically, since you were still a Sinner, the chills you felt down your spine from Alastor’s raw power were immediate. He spun Lucifer around in an aggressive handshake, causing Lucifer’s hat to almost be knocked off his head; “I’m Alastor. It’s a pleasure to meet you, quite the pleasure.” You watched the man shake Lucifer’s staff, wiping his hand on his coat and allowing Lucifer time to fix his hat. Lucifer shot him a dirty look, “I’m the benefactor of this fine establishment.” He waved his hand around, “I assisted Charlie in making this place the amazing hotel you see before you. You are much shorter in real life.” His eyes drifted across your partner and then over to you, and you immediately didn’t like the look in his eyes. “Hell dear,” Alastor greeted with a bow, “My apologies for ignoring a beautiful woman like yourself.” You unconsciously flushed at his comment, and you heard who you assumed to be a spider demon make a surprised sound. He took your hand and pressed a gentlemanly kiss to your knuckles,

“Ah, thank you.” You said shyly, a slightly uncomfortable twinge in your voice. In a weird combination, you could see his words were genuine but had no actual flirtatious intention behind them. Glancing back at Lucifer, you saw just how close he was; the frown and glare on his face were almost comical. His horns were just barely peaking through his head, “Luci?” You asked softly as Alastor dropped your hand. As soon as you were out of the deer’s hold, Lucifer picked you up and set you behind him. You squeaked in embarrassment, and Charlie cringed at the entire situation, looking at you desperately to ease the tension. You reached forward and wrapped your arms around Lucifer’s waist, resting your chin on his shoulder; you could feel the stress oozing out of his body like ichor.

“I haven’t heard of you,” Lucifer scoffed with as much sass as he could muster, and you groaned internally; “I guess that’s why Charlie called this the Hazbin Hotel.” He laughed mockingly, and you looked up at Alastor, whose hands tightened around his microphone. The deer sinner laughed back just as mocking,

“Actually, it was my idea.”

“Well, it’s not very clever!” Lucifer snapped, and you squeezed him tighter, trying to get his attention back on anything else. Another laugh as Alastor leaned down static was heard, and you couldn’t help but flinch,

“Fuck you.” His dial-like eyes briefly flicked up to you with a wink. Lucifer growled harshly in a warning. Charlie looked at you frantically once more and changed your strategy, moving to step in between them, your dress swishing around your ankles.

“Okay! Luci! I’m sure Charlie has more to tell you about the hotel, right honey?”

“Yes!” Charlie squealed, rushing over to her dad and pulling him over. "This is the parlor.” She turned him to face the small living room area. Lucifer nodded tensely, trying to think of something kind to say.

“It looks lovely, dear.” You butted in saving Lucifer’s ass once again. She beamed at the comment, emanating rainbows and unicorns as usual,

“Thanks, mom! You know, without Alastor, we wouldn’t have been able to pretty it up this much!” You wanted to facepalm; you loved her dearly, but like her father, Charlie genuinely had no self-awareness. The deer Sinner tilted his head, grinning somehow wider,

“Charlie has a very unique vision. I am happy to fill all her bizarre requests.” Alastor walked over and placed a hand not just on Charlie’s shoulders but yours as well, his thumb rubbing tender circles into the flesh.

Composure. Lilith taught you composure. That was one of the skills of a Queen of Hell.

Lucifer had none of that as his glare intensified at Alastor, his lips curling into a grimace as Charlie thanked Alastor. “Quite an impressive young lady. We’re all very proud of her; you raised her well.” He looked at you with a charming smile, and your cheeks heated; unfortunately, that made your stomach flutter with pride.

“Charlie, dear.” Lucifer growled, almost as if he could sense the Pride radiating off of him, making his blood boil, “Why don’t you introduce us to your other friends? Duckling, why don’t you stand next to me?”

“Oh, psh duh!” she ran over to Vaggie, pulling her over, “this is my girlfriend, Vaggie,” Charlie said hurriedly, waving her hand; Lucifer let out a surprised supportive laugh,

“Oh, You like girls! So do I. We have so much in common! Put her there, Maggie!” Grabbing Vaggie by the hand and shaking it rather aggressively before pulling her into a hug. She looked like she wanted to cry out of happiness, “Duckling look! Charlie has a girlfriend.” You laughed fondly,

“Yes, darling, I do have working eyes and ears.” You giggled sweetly as Lucifer brooded at your reaction, and both Charlie and Vaggie laughed in tandem.

“She’s so pretty!” He motioned to her, and you nodded,

“Yes, dear. VAGGIE is Beautiful.”

Vaggie sputtered, turning red at both compliments, “lovely to meet you, sir, ma’am.”

Charlie then introduced everyone: “These are our guests, Sir Pentious and Angel Dust!”

The snake, Sir Pentious, frantically stood up straight, sending a wobbly salute, “Your majesty!” He sputtered, falling into the tray of cookies. Angel Dust swiped one before turning to your partner and sending him a wink,

“Hi-ya, short king,” Lucifer turned pink, shaking his head. You tried to suppress your laughter, which made Angel’s face light up.

“This is Husk, our bartender,” The cat saluted with his two fingers, much more casually than his snake counterpart, “and Niffty, our housekeeper.” Loud, frantic skittering was heard from the small roach Sinner as she approached. The woman, Niffty, skittered up your partner like a tree and held onto the collar of his jacket/

“Hello! I’m Niffty,” she purred, batting her eyes. “I clean.” She twirled her hair between her fingers before she turned toward you and seemed to analyze you. Lucifer plucked her off and gently placed her on the ground before brushing off and straightening his coat. He looked over towards you, and you smiled softly, urging him to focus on Charlie; before he could speak, the chandelier crashed into the ground; you jumped closer to the nearest person, who, unfortunately, was Alastor. Lucifer cleared his throat, waving his cane around,

“Alright then.” He looked excited as he turned to you; oh god, he was going to start singing, wasn’t he?

“It looks like you could use some help from the big boss of Hell himself.” His shoulders bounced as he materialized a throne for himself. You turned red as he winked at you subtly; you always did have a thing for his confidence when he displayed it, “Check out daddy's glowing reviews on Yelp.”

“Five stars! Flawless! Greater than great!” He looked at you happily, but you looked in pain as you joined in.

“With the punch of a pentagram, I wap-bam-boom, alakazam! Usually, I charge a sacrificial lamb, but you get the family rate!” You appeared beside him as he wrapped both arms around you, and Charlie snuggled into your cheeks.

“Thanks, Dad!”

“Thanks, Hon!”

He seemed only to grow more confident as the scene changed once again to a restaurant, “Who needs a busboy, now that you've got the chef?” Lucifer snapped his fingers, and Alastor appeared next to the both of you in a waiter uniform. His ears were pinned back, and your body tensed; his smile was strained in anger.

“Michelin-tasting menu, free à la carte. I'll rig the game for you because I'm the ref! Champagne fountains, caviar mountains, that's just to start!” He raised his cane in the air with delight as the scene changed once more, but not willingly by the King of Hell. His face contorted into one of confusion, then frustration as your outfit was altered into an old-timey ragtime dress. Lucifer snarled as Alastor pulled you close by your waist; he was speaking to Charlie while dancing with you. He seemed to look into your soul and dig up all of your relationship problems with Lucifer just by a single glance.

“Who's been here since day one? Who's been faithful as a nun? Makes you chuckle with an old-timey pun? Your executive producer.”

“That's true!” Charlie beamed as he spun you in to your daughter; she caught you with a giggle,

“I'm your guy, your day-to-day. Your chum, your steadfast hotelier. Remember when I fixed that clog today?”

“I was stuck, thank you, sir!” Niffty chirped, snuggling up to Alastor. You gawked at the scene as Charlie acted as if this situation was a completely everyday occurrence.

“Oh, you!”

“I'm truly honored that we've built such a bond. You're like the child, the wife that I wish I had.” He pat Charlie on the hand and kissed you on the cheek,

“Uh, what?” Lucifer choked in outrage, horns sprouting from his head as someone dared kiss what was his; warmth flooded your gut at his possessiveness.

“I care for you, just like a daughter we spawned.” He nuzzled you close,

“Hold on now!”

“It's a little funny; you could almost call me dad.” He purred the end of the word towards you for the double entendre. You coughed, embarrassed; suddenly, the loud sound of a fiddle snapped you out of your stupor. Lucifer’s lips were a thin frown as he played his fiddle aggressively, but it still sounded phenomenal; a tendril shot out from beside you, and you were suddenly held against Alastors body as a piano fell on your boyfriend. You let out a horrified sound as you bounced on Alastor’s lap so you wouldn’t get crushed. Loud accordion sounds came from behind you,

“Luci!” You breathed out a side of relief; his face softened momentarily looking at you, but he frowned when Alastor continued singing.

“They say that when you're looking for assistance, it's smart to choose the path of least resistance.”

“Others say that in your needy hour, there's no substitute for pure angelic power!” Lucifer’s wings spread wide as he shot into the air. Everyone looked at him in awe, including you, as you were pulled from Alastors' grip, and he held you tight, protectively. “Who just happens also to be your blood!”

“Sadly, there are times a birth parent is a dud. They say the family you choose is better.” Alastor, seemingly annoyed he couldn’t get to you, glared furiously at Lucifer.

“What a bunch of losers.”

“Can you butt out of my song?”

“Your song? I started this!”

“I'm singing it; I'll finish it!”

“Oh, you tacky piece of sh-” Lucifer dropped you unceremoniously on the ground, choosing instead to get right up into the demon’s face. Charlie rushed over to you, helping you to your feet as the side wall suddenly burst into pieces. Your arms shot out protectively around Charlie, your horns grew sharper, and your eyes flashed a dangerous color.

“It's me, yes, it's me. I know you were all waiting for me. I'm here; what a gas. It took a while, but I'm present at last. It's me, it's me! Mimzy!” A sweet, plump woman stood in the rubble in a flapper uniform. You watched Lucifer blink a few times,

“Who?”

The woman frowned, “Didn’t you just hear me?” She frowned a little at Lucifer. Once you assumed Charlie was safe and finally back in your regular clothes, you walked over to Lucifer and pulled him close by the arm. He tensed, looking down at you, who seemed disoriented and overstimulated.

“You alright?”

“Hmhm…” His frown deepened as he kissed the crown of your head as the woman talked to Alastor specifically,

“We can leave?”

“No. Charlie’s worked hard for this; I’ll live.”

“Cuddle time when we get home.” You purred,

“Yes, please.” He smiled fondly down at you; his attention was only snapped back when Charlie walked over to Mimzy, asking about how close she and Alastor were. She flipped her hair,

“Oh yeah, we go way back! Ran in the same circles when we were alive.” Mimzy cozied up to Charlie, “You know this one used to frequent the club where I used to perform. He’s the only one I knew who could pound Whiskey like a sailor, then keep up with me on the dance floor.” She laughed, doing a little dance. Alastor made a sassy comment, as per usual, until she made eye contact with your boyfriend. Her eyes lit up in awe as she pulled Alastor down and whispered something harshly to him. Your stomach churned in a bit of protectiveness, and you snuggled closer with a slight grunt. He gave you a look before realizing what was going on,

“Oh?”

“Can it.”

“Is my little Duckling jealous?”

“I will kill you.”

“No, you won’t!” He sang before Mimzy walked over, introducing herself with a giggle and a bow,

“Pleased to meetcha Your Highness.” Lucifer looked pained as she spoke to him,

“Charmed, I’m sure. My partner, (Y/n).” He nodded toward you, and you smiled sweetly,

“Hello.” Mimzy frowned and chose to ignore your presence, almost acting like you didn’t exist.

Having had enough of Mimzy and whatever this interaction was, you turned towards your daughter. “Charlie, dear, do you think a tour of the hotel is in order?”

“That’s a great idea, Mom!” she beamed, breezing between Alastor and Lucifer, who declared he was going to join much to Lucifer's destain. This time, Lucifer kept you as close to him as possible and away from Alastor as much as he could; the deer seemed rather eager to try to grab your arm or hand to lead you down the hall. The tour was lovely, and Charlie looked excited as she shared her accomplishments at the hotel, no matter how small. You were so proud of her that you overlooked when Alastor had disappeared. Lucifer looked like he was zoning out and dissociating for most of it, which annoyed you. He wasn’t doing it on purpose, you knew that, but you weren’t exactly sure why he was so blase about the situation, especially when he was so excited this morning. Your hand interlocked with his, and you squeezed it; he squeezed back, snapping his attention back to the present as Vaggie opened the door to what seemed to be a balcony.

“And we’ve almost been able to all of Angel’s drug stashes! Almost…” She laughed a little nervously as Charlie jumped in eagerly.

“So once that’s out of the way, it should be much smoother sailing!”

“That’s great, Charlie.” You beamed, and she smiled back just as brightly.

“Well…uh…that is certainly something.” He waved his cane around, walking over to the edge of the balcony. You frowned at his behavior as Charlie hopefully asked,

“So…what do you think?”

“About what?”

“The hotel!” She stressed as Lucifer began to sweat,

“Oh yes, it does look much better now, doesn’t it?” He chuckled uncomfortably, “Ya know? But I think this railing needs work, “one good push and you’d just go right over the edge!” He shoved you lightly in jest, and you cocked a brow. “Whoopie! Bye-Bye!”

“What? No, no, the plan, Dad!” She groaned, almost desperate, “What do you think about using the Hotel to rehabilitate Sinners?”

“Lucifer.” You warned, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. Your hand rested tenderly on his shoulder; he shoved you off to face his daughter.

“Alright, I mean, look.” He clapped his hands together, “I love that you want to see the best in people, but these Sinners…you know, are just the worst!” You tensed behind him, shrinking in on yourself, and you saw both Charlie and Vaggie send looks in your direction. Even more self-conscious with those stares, your tail wrapped around your leg. “I, I don’t know how much you can realistically expect from them in Heaven.” He pulled on his collar, “Hohoo boy, Heaven is not as carefree as you might think. They have rules. LOTS of rules!” He stressed, “And they aren’t as open-minded as you’d hope.”

“These are our people, Dad, I…I have to try. I mean-”

He continued to make his point very obviously, forgetting that you were a Sinner too, “Our ‘people,’ Charlie, are AWFUL! They got gifted free will, and look what they did with it!” He motioned to the surrounding hellscape. “Everything is terrible! I just don’t want you to push yourself on the line for people like-”

“Like who, Dad? Mom?” Charlie snapped, “Mom’s a Sinner. What does that make her?” Lucifer froze, turning to you, your arms wrapped around your body, hugging yourself,

“I-I, well, she’s different.” He waved you off hurriedly, “She-” He was about to say more when a loud explosion was heard shaking the entire hotel. Lucifer moved quickly to grab you, pressing you against his chest in case the building were to collapse. “My point!” He gestured downward to the loan shark, shouting Mimzy’s name. Lucifer opened a portal, and Charlie, Vaggie, you, and himself stepped through it into the lobby. Mimzy laughed nervously,

“I may be in trouble with some loan sharks.” Vaggie glared harshly at her as the hotel shook once again. The entire hotel exploded into chaos and fire; you dodged a piece of falling wood as Lucifer laughed, not at you, but at the situation. Lucifer couldn’t reach you, so you stepped back, bumping into Alastors' chest. His hand gripped your shoulder, and you noticed, even with the chaos, Mimzy shot Alasator a look.

“Ya see, this is exactly what I’m talking about, Charlie!” Lucifer hummed, using this moment to emphasize his point cruelly. “It doesn’t matter how well-intentioned you are!” Charlie looked like she was about to blow a gasket, and you stepped forward to try to catch both of their attention. Alastor pulled you close so as too not to get crushed by another falling piece of debris. You murmured a soft thank you, and he smiled with almost a sort of genuine kindness in his eyes.

“My dear, leave everything to me. It’s time I remind everyone why I’m here.” His claws dug into your shoulder as deafening static filled the air, “Just stay here, and you’ll be safe, darling.” Your eyes flicked to Lucifer, and the man didn’t notice, seemingly proud that his point was proven correct. You nodded, and Mimzy groaned,

“Oh, finally! Took ya’ long enough!”

The demon walked through the fire towards the entrance of the hotel, his microphone hitting the ground with a loud burst of green light, “A reminder to all not to mess with the radio demon!” Black tentacles erupted from the ground, spearing and slaughtering all the loan sharks who happened to be in his unfortunate path. Your jaw hung open in surprise, and Lucifer made a sound. Walking over to you and closing your jaw, Alastor grew in size, “I will devour every one of you!” Charlie joined you both at the entrance,

“Mhm, ya see? What did I tell ya? Charlie Sinners are violent psychopaths, hell-bent on causing as much pain and destruction as they can. There’s really no point in trying.”

“Lucifer!” You snarled before Charlie could open her mouth; the man flinched, staring at you with wide eyes. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” You shouted, tossing your hands in the air; his brow furrowed, and he went to open his mouth. You slapped a hand over it. “I think you’ve talked enough today; I don’t know why you think you're so much better than these people! My people, ME!” You emphasized pointing to yourself, “I’m a Sinner, or did you forget that because I’m with the oh-so-powerful King of Hell? I’m just like every single one of these people.”

“You’re different.” He argued,

“How?”

“Because, uh, because…you’re with me?” He was trying to think of another reason, one that you didn’t already comment on, “Because you’re in Hell for something stupid. You’re kind and sweet and take care of your people. Of Charlie and me-”

“So? You think I’m the only Sinner like that around here?” He winced, “Why can’t you just be proud of what Charlie is trying to do here? Lilith would be so proud of her!” Charlie jumped in with tears in her eyes,

“You know what? At least Alastor is defending the hotel! It may be a bit more sadistic than I hoped. But he’s doing it for ME!” she exclaimed. “How can he and Mom have more faith in me than my father?” She crossed her arms over her chest insecurely. You walked away from the two of them, and Lucifer seemed torn about whether he wanted to go after you or Charlie.

“Oh, drama!” Angel cheered excitedly, and you pressed your fingers to the bridge of your nose, taking in a deep breath. You stood outside next to Mimzy, trying to give a small smile, and Alastor shrunk back to his standard size and spun his microphone around with a laugh,

“Oh, I missed getting to let off steam.”

“Oh, Alastor! What a fantastic show! Bravo, as always!” She walked up to him, successfully ignoring you. “Thanks for helping lil old me outta a tough spot; you’re always such a pal.” She mused as you cocked a brow over at Alastor. You watched a beam fell from the ceiling and crashed onto the ground below, “Oops.” She let out a strained laugh as your smile turned into a frown, “sorry about the mess. But I’m sure the lil’ bug can take care of it for ya.”

“I think you should go, Mimzy. Now.”

“Oh pfft, Alastor always such a kidder you! You are so funny!” She hummed,

“He said you should go.” Your fingers tapped against your arm in warning, “I would listen. You ruined my daughter's Hotel.” Mimzy gave you a dirty look,

“Alastor, are you really going ta’ let this broad fight your battles for ya’?” She laughed, and you bristled,

“Excuse me? Who do you think you are?”

“What? Am I wrong,” She waved you off, “A Sinner climbing up the ranks of Hell by sleeping with the king and queen. There’s no better way to describe you than a common whore. Going after Hell’s most powerful overlord now, too,” she tutted motioned to Alastor. “It’s rather sleazy if you ask me,” The smell of smoke began to fill the air, and Alastor looked curiously at you; it was common knowledge that Sinners tended to look or, in some cases, have powers based on how they died. Fire licked at your feet, and the horns on your head grew sharper and longer; your tail flicked around dangerously behind you,

“Say that again.”

“You’re a slut.”

With a growl, you lunged at her; your patience was already worn completely thin by every other event that happened today. She shrieked, trying to get behind Alastor, who sidestepped her with a laugh. “Who the fuck do you think you are? You don’t fucking know me.” You pinned her up against one of the wooden pillars that cracked under the force of your charge. You couldn’t help but wonder if you had not found Lucifer and Lilith if you would’ve been an Overlord. “You don’t know my relationship. And I will kill you if you ever come near me or my family again. Do I make myself clear?”

Alastor looked at you curiously; then, you felt his tendrils wrap around your waist, pulling you away from the woman, uncaring how charred they would get from your flames. “That was quite the show, darling, quite the show!” He held you up in the air, and you growled, squirming restlessly, “Mimzy. I mean it. Much like the young Queen stated, you deliberately brought danger to this place. Just to have me clean up your mess. I can’t have that here.”

“But you love takin’ care a’ me.” She rubbed her shoulders, “Just like now! Plus!” She took a step towards him, “You don’t actually give a shit about this tacky place, do ya?”

“Say it’s tacky again!” You snarled, and Alastor held onto you tighter; he glared at the woman,

“Come on. I know you.” Mimzy hummed, “You heartless son. Of. A. bitch.”

“You’re welcome if you actually want to give redemption a shot. But I think we both know that’s not really your style. So you need to leave.” She sputtered out her displeasure at the conversion before marching away down the hill, flipping everyone the bird as she left. Alastor looked up at you, and you huffed in frustration, “Unfortunately, I couldn’t let you kill her. She’s still an old friend. I hope you understand, my dear.” Finally, the demon turned to Lucifer, whose jaw was hanging open, “I believe this is yours.” Alastor dropped you in Lucifer's arms, and he held you tightly, giving you a look of shock at your prowess. You refused to meet his eyes. His forehead met yours hesitantly; you reluctantly gave him a nuzzle back.

Never stew in your anger, Asmodeus told you; always try to forgive.

“Love you.” He whispered so only you could hear,

“I love you too…” you said quietly. After a moment, you notice Charlie take a deep breath as he carries you inside.

“Dad…just help me.” She said softly. He sighed, placing you on the ground next to him,

“I…I can’t.”

“Why can’t you?”

“Charlie!” He grabbed her shoulders, with a slight tremor in his hands, “You don’t understand. Heaven never listens. They didn’t listen to me; they won’t listen to you.” He crossed his arms insecurely and stepped away from his daughter.

“You don’t know that!” He whipped around, and you saw the tears brimming in his eyes,

“I do!” he exclaimed loudly, looking over at you, and you nodded gently, mouthing ‘tell her.’ With a trembling voice, he began to finally communicate with his daughter,

“You didn't know that when I tried this all before.” With a ball of golden light, he walked over to take Charlie’s hands. “My dreams were too hard to defend, and in the end, I won't lose it all again. Now, you're the only thing worth fighting for—more than anything. I'll shelter and adore you more than anything.” He pulled her into a hug, his hands caressing her hair tenderly. She pulled away abruptly.

“Dad, I don't need you to protect me from this-” Charlie started, hands still interlocked,

“I just don't want you to be crushed by them like—Like I was.”

“Dad…” She murmured before taking in a deep breath. “When I was young, I didn't really know you at all; I always felt so small. But I heard your stories, and I was enthralled. Thе tales about your lofty dreams, I listened breathlessly, imagining it could be me.” She looked away from him, and you realized what day she was talking about. You could picture it so clearly. Lucifer showed her his latest creation, a small magic gold box. When pressed, it would explode in brilliant light before fading to a small duck swimming in the water. The duck soon shot up into the sky, spreading all six wings elegantly. You stood in the room beside them, smiling tenderly at the scene before Lilith picked up Charlie, pulling her away from her father. You stood frozen for a moment as Lucifer looked at you sadly. Lilith placed a hand on the small part of your back, and you walked out the door with her. You had sent Lilith a weird look before she shooed you off as well; just before the door closed, you saw he had sent you and Charlie a longing look before the door clicked shut behind you. You placed a hand on your heart, and it squeezed painfully in your chest at the memory, “So, in the end, it's the view I had of you that showed me dreams can be worth fighting for... more than anything. I need to save my people more than anything.” Lucifer gaped at her breathlessly before smiling, eyes brimming with tears.

“I've been dyin' to find out who you are.”

“I've been waiting, wanting the same thing,” Charlie stressed,

“Looks like the apple doesn't fall far,” He teased, looking at Charlie before shooting you a look; you scoffed, shaking your head fondly. She wasn’t taking after you at all, just him. His dreams and his passions, you only wished he could see it.

“Took you a while.” Charlie flushed,

“I've missed that smile.” He took her cheek in his hands, and she nuzzled into his palm,

“All that I'm hoping, now that my eyes are open, is that we can start again, not be pulled apart again, 'Cause, in the end, you are part of who I am.” His wings spread out widely, and you saw everyone in the hotel, minus Alastor, look up in awe as a golden portal opened up above them. You smiled, blowing them a kiss, and Lucifer grinned, picking Charlie up into the golden sky he had created.

You all could faintly hear them singing, “I'll support your dream, whatever lies in store.”

“And who could ask for more?”

“More than anything,”

“more than anything.”

“I'm grateful you're my daughter more than anything,”

“I'm grateful you're my father more than anything.”

“More than anything,” They both sang and pulled one another into a tight hug once they were back on the ground. Lucifer held out his hand, and you took it gratefully, pulling you into the hug to join them.

“Aw, that was sweet.” Sir Pentious sobbed. You pulled away with a small laugh, watching as Lucifer backed away from Charlie.

“Okay,” he sighed shakily. I can get you a meeting, but once you’re in heaven, I-We won’t be able to go with you.” He motioned to you, “Will you be okay?”

“I’ll be fine.” She took his hand and rested her forehead against his knuckles,

“That’s my girl.” He let out a nervous breath, and you put your hand on his shoulder. You kissed his cheek softly and reached out to peck Charlie on the cheek, too.

“You’ll be wonderful.”

“Mom. Dad…I love you.”

“I love you too, Char Char.” His eyes flicked to you, and he leaned forward to whisper something in her ear. Her jaw dropped, and she seemed to suppress a squeal, nodding rapidly and bouncing on the tips of her toes. He pulled back a hand wrapping around your waist, “Good luck, kiddo.” With a burst of red and gold flames, the two of you disappeared back into your home.

He pulled away as soon as you materialized back to the castle; he seemed to be taking rapid, deep breaths, “Luci? Are you alright?”

“I love Charlie so much.” He sobbed loudly, and you cooed softly in relief,

“Oh geez, You big softy,” you laughed, opening your arms so Lucifer could bury his head in your chest.

“I love you too! I’m sorry I was an asshole!” He whined, “You’re so hot!”

“Now, how exactly does that correlate?” you snorted, “You’re sad, not drunk.”

“I was stressed and depressed, and I took it out on you, our people, and Charlie! I don’t care that you’re a Sinner! Plus, that radio fuckwad was hitting on you!”

“I know, Baby.” You cooed, already feeling better about the situation with his weepy apology, “I’m just happy you saw the light,” You placed your two fingers under his chin. He looked up at you, “And are reconnecting with Charlie.” He smiled, his face turning rosy red and his eyes watering once again. “No more tears,” you said sweetly, pressing a kiss to his lips before pulling away. “I also can’t believe how jealous you were of Alastor.” His face twisted like he ate a sour lemon,

“He was insinuating that I’m a bad father! That Charlie could just replace me!” Lucifer scoffed, “He was also insinuating that I was clearly a bad lover!” He poked you in the boob with his finger, “Which I’m not! I’m great!” He looked at you to agree with him, and when you didn’t nod right away, his flush turned to red anger. “HEY!”

“I’m joking! I’m joking!” you cupped his cheeks. I couldn’t imagine being with anyone other than you and Lilith.” He nodded with a confident pout, his fingers twitched at his sides. “Let’s get out of these clothes, shall we?” He spoke softly; you raised a brow as his arms wrapped around your waist. “I want you to remember who you belong to,” He purred, eyelids drooping, tongue slithering out of his mouth. You made a surprised sound,

“Now? Today? But earlier-”

“Fuck earlier. I finally get why Adam was so pissed I stole both his wives.”

“Lucifer!” You scolded, red in the cheeks,

“What?” His tongue lapped at your neck teasingly, “Is it so bad I need all of Hell to know you’re still my Queen?”

“No, I just,” You shivered, feeling his lips against your neck, “I want to make sure you’re comfortable- ah!” You yelped as he picked you up bridal style, your dress trailing against the ground.

“Oh, I’m more than comfortable~” Lucifer churred, tossing you onto the bed, “Remind me, how do we feel about more babies?”

“Lucifer!” You laughed loudly, “You just reconnected with your only daughter, and you want more?”

“With you? Yes.”

“Heavenly Father, forgive me; I have sinned.” You fanned yourself, “Sex before marriage, a baby out of wedlock.”

“Hm.” Lucifer mused, his hand running up your tail, sending shivers down your spine, “A woman of God, huh? What would he say seeing you so easily tempted by the Devil?” he leaned close to your lips,

“The others would punish me, I’m sure of it.” You just knew he could smell your arousal as his hand slid up under your dress, raising it above your legs, his hand squeezing your thigh.

“And if the Devil gives you his spawn?” Lucifer’s hand trailed farther up, playing with the waistband of your thong; you nodded as he slid it down your legs.

“Forced to repent over and over again. Shunned until I have the child, and then they’d regret ever saying anything. Because you’d slaughter them once the child was born.” You gasped, seeing his mouth at the center of your panties, a wet spot clearly already formed,

“Hm, already this wet? Naughty.” He tossed them aside, leering down at you. “They’d see a baby with cute little horns and a tail, with rosy cheeks, and know it's mine. I’d kill them for thinking about hurting you. For taking our family away from us.” Lucifer purred, and you let out a needy whine; you felt yourself pulse around nothing. It’s been a while since you’ve been this turned on and even longer since you thought it towards Lucifer. “Charlie would love a little sibling, don’t you think?”

“Lucifer.” You whined loudly, your tail flicking around his leg, trying to pull him closer. “So mean teasing me like this,”

“Mean? HA! Hardly.” He mused, “This is me being nice, but I can show you mean.”

“No…” You wiggled beneath him. “I need you,” Lucifer’s eyes lit up as you cupped his cheek. He nuzzled his face into your hand, pressing gentle kisses to your palm.

“I think I’ve made my sweet Duckling wait long enough,” he whispered, leaning down to rest his forehead against your own. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” Tears welled up in your eyes as Lucifer cooed gently, whipping them away with one hand. “So much.”

“I love you more,” His tongue licked at your cheeks, and you heard him purr softly. You gasped, feeling his fingers probe at your entrance, “Let me show you how I ruined Eden.” The way you nodded caused him to let out a laugh as he slid down your body, his forked tongue finding your clit quickly, for there was nowhere he felt more at home than under a wet cunt. You moaned immediately at the sensation, feeling him slide a finger alongside his magic tongue. You saw his horns begin to peak out of the top of his head as he groaned into you, “You taste so fucking good.” Your thighs clenched around your face, and he slid another finger inside your pulsing walls; your hands shot up, grabbing at the now fully emerged horns. Lucifer growled as you pulled him closer to your core, “Harder.”

“Fuck, you’re such a good boy Lucifer.” You tugged him harder, and his mouth pulled away from your cunt for him to moan hotly, mouth wet with your slick. “Want to put a baby inside me?”

“Yes, yesyesyesyes.” He begged, claws digging into the plush meat of your thighs, “Please. Please. Please.” Lucifer panted hotly, scissoring his fingers inside of you, stretching you nice and good. “Want to give you a baby so bad,”

“Bad boy. We aren’t even married,” You teased, bringing back your point from earlier.

“I’ll marry you then!” He shouted, shooting his head up with tired eyes, “Second Queen of Hell, Beside me and Lilith, standing equal.” Lucifer bit his lip, “All of Hell will know to keep their eyes and hands off you.” You paused, embarrassing wet, pulsing on his fingers, “I have a ring and everything.” He rambled, sticking a third finger inside you, “Gonna ask in front of Charlie, but-”

“Did you just propose with your fingers in my pussy?”

Lucifer paused, his entire body froze, “Oh fuck.” You both stared at each other, “I promise this wasn’t the plan.” He whined, “Hrmph-” Lucifer’s eyes blew open as you smashed your lips against him. He tasted like you, and you couldn’t care less.

“You’re such an idiot. Of course, I’ll marry you.” You laughed, pressing your forehead against his, “Now make me scream so all of Hell knows who I belong to.” His pupils shrunk into slits as his finger pulled out of you, and you whimpered at the empty loss; you weren’t empty for long as you were immediately filled with his cock. You both groaned at the sensation, and your head tilted back into your pillows, toes curling; you didn’t even see him get his pants off. “God, fuck yes,” You mewled and whined, “it’s so good.”

“I’m going to fuck you dumb.” He hissed, his tail protruding from his hips, wings unfurling behind him. “You won’t remember your name, and I’ll make you a drooling mess.”

“Yes,” you begged. “Please, please, baby. I need you. Move, please.”

“Anything for my future Queen.” He purred against your neck, sucking marks into the supple skin; his hips moved, and dragged himself slowly out of you. You both groaned in harmony at the sensation before slamming himself back into you, immediately hitting that spongey spot inside of you. You squeaked, eyelids and pussy fluttering; Lucifer’s crown smoked as he snarled, ramming into your body as you went loose against him. Your tongue lulled out of your mouth as he pistoned in and out of you at a brutal pace, immediately bringing you closer and closer to your peak, “You’re going to cum so many times, be prepared; I won’t be done with you until I make sure you’re pregnant.”

“Fucking Hell, Luci!” Your voice broke, clenching around him, cumming quickly for the first time that night as he chuckled. When you came down from your high, you looked at him with tired eyes, feeling him pulse inside you, his dick beating like a heart.

“You still remember where you are? I’m not doing a good job, am I?” You mumbled something incoherent as he snickered, pressing a kiss to your lips and shoving his tongue in your mouth. With shaky arms, you wrapped them around his shoulders as he moved slowly in and out of you, dragging against your oversensitive walls deliciously slowly.

“You’re gonna fill me up?” He nodded, groaning hotly against your mouth, “fuck me stupid, so I’m only thinking about your thick cock?”

“Yes,” Lucifer hissed out a groan, hips bucking, causing your eyes to flutter into the back of your skull. “Going to fill you up, make you a mom, have another baby,” He panted, pulling away from your mouth to rest his forehead against your shoulder as his voice cracked.

“Good boy. Such a good boy for me,” Your toes curled as he hiked your legs up to rest on his hip bones. The new angle has you seeing stars behind your eyelids; it allowed him better access to your G-spot and better access to your clit with his fingers. “FUCK LUCI!” That combination seemed to spur him again as you came for a second time, clutching around him in a trembling motion while arching your back. He snarled, grabbing onto your breast, manhandling it roughly as your orgasm rocked through your body; he pulsed once before spilling deep inside you with a heated moan. His body is quivering, holding you, hips to hips, and you feel your womb fill up with his warmth. It seemed Lucifer was the one who was fucked dumb, mumbling and whining with his oversensitivity. “You okay? Need water?” You ask quietly, moving up to touch his cheek; he nuzzled against you with a low purr but shook his head. He cracked his eyes open with a cheeky look,

“Just making sure it takes.”

“God, you’re gross.” You tossed your head back with a laugh, “It’s going to take more than one time probably…Plus, who knows if it is even possible? I’m a Sinner, and we can’t have kids normally-”

“I’m built differently.”

You snorted, “Who taught you that phrase? Fizz?”

“Unimportant.” Lucifer’s face turned red, “We’ll keep trying until it sticks; after all, if I’m known for one thing, it’s breaking the rules.” He grinned, his tongue flicking out, teasing you before he let out a slight hiss, “Stop clenching around me, Duckling; you’re going to kill me.”

“Just milking you, making sure to get every last drop.” You teased lightheartedly before you squealed, “Did you just cum again?”

“Stop.” He whined loudly, “That was hot!” You burst into laughter as Lucifer pouted as he weakly slid out of you. Using his fingers to push his seed back into you, arching your hips up higher, you rolled your eyes fondly.

“Lucifer?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you mean it?”

“Whatever do you mean? Which thing? I say a lot of things!”

“That you want to marry me? Start a family?”

“Oh, my sweet thing,” He dropped your hips, and with a bounce, he was hovering over you, his wings spread wide, looking like the angel he once was. “Of course, you’re my fiance; you did say yes,” Lucifer kissed your lips sweetly, “No takebacks.” He mumbled against your lips,

“As if I ever would.”

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