#unfortunately I simply put no stock in your words | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

certifiedfreec · 6 months

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・❥・close - gojo satoru x f!reader (crossposted on ao3!) ・❥・

⊹ oh nooo you’re trapped in a hotel room with gojo… and there’s only one bed… ahhhhh

⊹ 18+, smut, frenemies to lovers, a ridiculous amount of banter

⊹ word count: 9.8k (i’m so normal about him lol…)

“Well fuck.”

Mouth agape, you stand tiredly beside your overly cheeky partner-in-exorcises, surveying the last available hotel suite that’s closest to your current assignment. Cramped could describe it if you’re feeling generous, as the sparse amenities make the single queen-sized bed in the center of the room look like a California King. The overblown stock photos of generic flowers hanging haphazardly above the bed are nearly mocking the otherwise drab room, and the dim lighting makes it all look more dingy than romantic given the scenario you’re in.

One bed left in this overbooked “hotel…” This has to be a fever dream.

“I call the left side!”

Said partner, Satoru Gojo, is oblivious to your inner turmoil as he languidly steps into the room with his singsong tone, surveying what little it has to offer with an otherwise calm expression. God, this guy gets on your nerves, but not for any pertinent or extravagant reason. Really, he just carries himself a little too cockily for your taste, like he’s used to people fawning over him for doing nothing. While you work well together for the most part, there’s something about his presence that just makes you-

“You can take the whole thing,” you grumble dismissively, carefully moving around him to set your backpack down on the warped work desk. You’d sooner sleep in the bathtub even if it was soaking wet, you think.

Your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets with how hard they roll when you hear him let out a feigned hum of disappointment. You can sense him studying your every move, even through that stupid blindfold thing he’s always got on.

“Bummer. You scared you’re gonna catch some cooties? I’m not contagious.” Gojo tuts playfully, shaking his black jacket off and tossing it over the back of the chair. “Guess that means more room for me!” He wastes wastes no time in flopping onto the middle of the stiff mattress with a grin, and part of you can’t help but admire- no, simply notice, you tell yourself- how his shockingly white hair and pale skin contrasts the dull, dated comforter. He’s got a white button down on, and you’re tempted to call him a bloodsucking vampire with how translucent he looks. Humming to himself, he reaches for the remote that practically shrinks in his large hands, clicking the clunky TV on and watching it take a few minutes to whir to life.

You’re unsure what to do with yourself, but you’re determined to put some space between the two of you with whatever happens. It’s unfortunate when you realize that you really might not be successful with that endeavor, given your dwarfed hotel room that could trigger any sane person’s claustrophobia. It didn’t help that this guy already took up most of the lackluster room with just his body, either. Your eyes flicker over to your work partner, who appears unnervingly okay with this turn of events. With a deep sigh, you pull out the creaky chair and slump defeatedly onto the desk. You’re careful to scoot to the edge of the chair so your back doesn’t make contact with his resting jacket, and he doesn’t miss your obvious attempt at distance. It’s known by many that he’s always been a huge fan of himself, and you’d be damned if you ever let him think you were part of that club, too.

“Hey, careful with the outerwear.” Gojo’s selectively ignoring your clear discomfort, opting to poke at you anyway because he just does that. “That’s a pricey jacket, y’know.” His face is serene as he’s clicking through the available channels and making his own little noises when each show is less intriguing than the next.

“Right… I’ll try my best,” you reply disinterestedly with a yawn. You rest your face on the cool wood- anything to mentally take yourself out of the painfully tiny space you and this massive human were expected to share for the evening. It’s been a long day of mundane yet necessary work, and apparently the real work is supposed to happen tomorrow. Being instructed last minute to change your stopping point for the day, you were left with no choice but to call around in a new area until you found an option. Gojo simply shrugged and started searching, not even slightly irritated at the change of plans. It irks you how little your colleague is bothered by, well, anything, because it has to be disingenuous at some point, right? Over time you’ve realized that with him, it truly is a brazen confidence- a kind that you decided was more dangerous than reassuring in reference to your line of work. It’s just unnatural- then again, nothing in your field is, so what’s your real issue with him? The question always leaves you befuddled at your core, and now it’s glaring in your face with the close quarters you’re sharing.

After some time spent listening to Gojo’s disjointed chuckles at whatever was playing, you take out your phone to text Shoko about your dreaded situation. This’ll be a long night, you think, grasping at straws to reason that it’s only temporary and that the smell of his spicy cologne will soon fade away from your senses. You have to say though, the scent fits him pretty well…unlike this miniature room you’re both posted up in.

Your eyes betray you when they briefly flit over again at the man lounging across the bed. It’s quite the spectacle, as the ends of his gangly legs and feet are dangling awkwardly over the edge, yet his expression is serene. The word "cute" passes through your mind and you immediately shush it by reflex, but it’s not as strong as the newfound proximity that prompts you to finally tease him in a dry tone: “Jesus, you’re taking up the whole thing and it’s still not enough.”

“Tell me about it.” He’s quick to react to your statement, and you swear you see his broad chest huff with amusement out of your peripheral. “It must be the price to pay when you’re a dreamy, charming, six foot three Jujutsu Sorcerer,” he adds in a lighthearted tone that seeks feigned sympathy. You’re not looking at him anymore, but you can guess that he’s batting the long white eyelashes that decorate his electric blue eyes. Meanwhile, you’re battling a smile.

Shoko’s not answering your SOS texts, so you actually decide to take the bait in the meantime. “You poor thing,” you coo halfheartedly, “It’s just never enough for you.” You shift, draping your arm over the back of the cheap desk chair that warps under your weight.

“You’re so right! I’m glad someone finally understands.” He points a finger at you, clearly pleased that you’re bantering along, and then he rests that same finger on his pointed chin. “Speaking of nothing ever being enough, I’m starving.” He suddenly sits up, making the bed creak with his movement. It’s apparent that his focus has shifted from the lifeless television show to you. “Who delivers around here?”

Gojo’s nonchalant behavior has the opposite effect on you- it’s disconcerting. At the same time, a very quiet part of you wants to warm up to the idea of finding it endearing. Being annoyed by him was all you knew- how could you ever change now?

The noise that escapes him is pure juvenile glee when you wordlessly open up a delivery app on your phone and sling the device over to him, which he catches with ease before scavenging through the limited number of nearby restaurants. If anything, you’ve never seen him so locked in. You hear him murmur his commentary to himself as he swipes through, picking out his order from his spot on the bed (which is basically the whole thing), and then he abruptly stands up with a matter-of-fact tone in his voice. Without watching him, you hear his steps move somewhere behind your seat.

“Hey, your girlfriend Shoko is texting you. I had no idea I was such a hot subject! Well, maybe I did.”

Oh shit. The heart that previously resided in your chest has plummeted to your stomach. You completely forgot you’d been virtually begging her for moral support when you first arrived at your shoebox of a room.

You muster all your inner strength to maintain a semblance of cool. “Is she on her way to save me?”

The grin on his face is nearly glowing as he reads your screen. “Hah, you wish. It says, and I quote, ’Sorry I’m just now seeing these! How are you and your “Honored One” doing? I promise he’s not as bad as you think he is, LOL.’”

You can feel all the blood in your body rush to your face as Gojo continues to read the message, who is doing everything to refrain from bursting into a fit of laughter. “’At least he’s not the worst looking, and you guys are gonna have to share a bed anyway. Wink emoji, wink emoji.’”

Your world comes screeching to an ugly halt. In this moment, you remind yourself to never text Shoko while you’re in the same room as him- ever again.

“Oh my god… You’re lying. Stop it!” You feel a wave of sickeningly nervous giggles threaten to rack through your body as you fly out of your rickety seat, marching over to the lanky sorcerer and swiping at him for your phone. He tsks, holding the device up from your reach with a mischievous tilt of his head, and you’re sure that you’ve never been this flushed with humiliation before. His muscled arm holds your phone up revealing the chat, and unfortunately, he wasn’t lying. And his voice? It’s smug, obnoxiously so as he taunts you. “This is so much more interesting than ordering food right now. I think I’m gonna answer her. What should I say?”

“Give it back, Satoru Gojo.” You glower up at him, silently knowing your efforts are futile due to your drastic height difference- and that goddamn Infinity ability of his that he loved to show off.

“Oooh, don’t say my full name. It really scares me,” Gojo gasps mockingly before making a show of squinting up at the screen and beginning to type with his other hand. “Let’s try this.” His fingers begin to dance across the screen. “’Shoko, I think I might be falling for Satoru Gojo, all six foot three of him. We’ve had such a romantic evening-‘"

“Jesus Christ, hand it over already!” You’re reaching your limit with tolerating his antics, body teeming in some liminal space between annoyance and mortification. You stretch up again to try and pluck the phone only to make contact with nothing. Fucking showoff. He’s still got his blindfold on, and you’re unable to see how his eyes are completely shimmering with mirth and self-satisfaction.

“Aaand, sent! I think she’ll like that. Anyway, go ahead and add your order to the cart. It’s on me- I remembered to bring the JuJutsu High credit card this time!” Gojo carries on casually like he hasn’t just done the equivalent of planting an explosive in your text messages, feeling incredibly proud of himself as he plops the phone back into your open palm. Glaring up at him and his resilient grin, you are entirely uninterested in eating any kind of food right now. He thinks it’s kind of cute how quickly your face turns ruby red.

You stare at your violated device, blinking in disbelief before looking back up at him. “You’re a real motherfucker, you know that?” You challenge, though your voice isn’t as hostile as it should be.

His large hands fly up defensively. “Whoa, who says I don’t go for daughters either?”

He’s maddening. How do his students stand him? Your free palm has never moved so fast to your face. Resolving into your clunky self-assigned seat, your butt collides firmly with cold wood. “You’re right. Who don’t you go for?” You huff.

Gojo chuckles with his whole chest as he moves to sprawl out over the miniature bed, returning to the original position he was in before he hijacked your text conversation. With blindfolded eyes focused back on the hazy television screen, his hands lock behind his head as he shrugs indifferently. “Never been a big fan of Geminis, to be honest.”

Unreal. He could talk to you in circles like this forever, and only because he knows he gets under your skin that way. You resign, eyeing your phone screen and scrolling through the restaurant he picked to order delivery from. He’s got quite the spread in the cart, complete with an elaborate dessert that could’ve wiped out your savings account.

“Clearly a fan of cheesecake though, holy shit.” The jab doesn’t come out as mean as you intend it to, and honestly, you aren’t sure how much longer you’ll be capable of treating him with this much animosity. You’re already tired, and if you were any more awake you’d realize that your work partner was slowly wearing your guard down, quip by cocky quip.

“Right again. Don’t you just love getting to know me through our intimate time together?”

Shoko is spamming you with an endless barrage of confused and shocked emojis, and you’re far too sleep-deprived to reply. Your entire body flushes at his words as they reverberate in your mind. Intimate is not the right word. No, it shouldn’t be, more like invasive. Right?

“Couldn’t be happier,” you reply curtly, mindlessly picking out whichever menu items are at the top before punching in the room number and credit card info, which was smoothly slid onto the table by Gojo without your prior notice. With your back to him, his gratification is on full display as he pretends to watch whatever crappy show is playing. Winning is his favorite thing in the world, and grating on your nerves is a close second- though really, the two coincide. Part of him wonders how much further he can blur that line.

——————————————————————————————————-

The comically large bag of food is immediately torn open by an eager Gojo the second it lands on the hotel room’s table, and he’s forking together a messy array of sides onto his plate before dragging over a lounge chair from the corner next to yours. He’s sitting far too close for your comfort, but you begrudgingly comply. It wasn’t like he was going to go away anytime soon, even though the night would be so much easier that way. As he shovels his dinner into his mouth, your mind aimlessly ventures as to how he keeps his form so trim with an appetite like that. He’s got to have a strict workout regimen somewhere, though “strict” is a word not often associated with him-

“Hey, your food’s gonna get cold if you keep staring like that.”

Your eyes widen in record time. It’s a hideous realization that you’ve zoned out on watching the renowned sorcerer-turned-temporary-roommate inhale his overpriced dinner, all from being overcome with either exhaustion or acceptance of your cramped situation. At this point, it’s maybe a little of both.

“Sorry,” you mumble, not even caring to articulate a more acidic response. It seems you’re beginning to neutralize into Gojo’s presence, and he mentally takes note of your changing chemistry with him as you quietly stab at your steak bites.

He’s got the perfect opportunity to coo something vain back, like “Don’t apologize, I’d stare too if it were me,” but he doesn’t. He simply keeps eating, sparing you with a less than uncomfortable silence. It’s never been the worst thing between you two given your extensive work history, and you feel yourself soften slightly when the bland hotel room’s air isn’t filled with his assumptive commentary for once. As your plates both get emptier, he feels this sudden need to hold your attention, as you’re less likely to be as combative as you’ve been before. You’re... not so set on hating him.

“You tired?”

Gojo’s two-worded inquiry jars you, almost to the point of choking on your bread. It's something genuine. He closes up one of the empty to-go boxes and shoves it into the takeout bag before pulling out the monstrosity that is his slice of cheesecake. For some reason your heart stammers at how refreshing the possibility of a real conversation with him could actually be.

You’ve got the perfect opportunity to snap something defensive back, like “Yeah, of you,” but you don’t. His shiny eyes shift under the fabric of his blindfold to you, almost prompting you to answer.

“…Yeah, I must be making it pretty obvious,” you say, unintentionally yawning and proving his point. If you were any more relaxed with him, he would’ve told you how cute you looked doing that. You secure your leftovers and start to chuck them into the bag before a large hand suddenly stops you with a “gimme” motion.

“Judging by how easily you’re willing to waste that perfectly good food…it’s not hard to tell,” he prods at you with a grin that you would’ve unnerved you earlier, but at this hour it’s a little more welcoming. Is that a snicker that comes out of you? You hand over the half-eaten order of steak bites to his jubilation, and he’s already popping open the lid to pick one up with his fingers.

Curse your brain in its exhausted state, because it’s nearly hypnotized by his digits. They’re long, dextile, confident somehow. They’re slender and defined, yet capable of serious damage- this you know all too well, and that excites you more than it should. The slice of meat dwarfs in his hold, its shiny reddish myoglobin starting to trickle down his hand and wrist, and it decorates his fine veins and tendons there with its sheen…

No, there’s no way you’re jealous of a piece of meat right now. Did you seriously feel a flutter somewhere that you shouldn’t? Satoru Gojo is literally eating your leftovers with his bare, grubby hands, and you’ve made the fatal error of finding it attractive. Yeah, you’re definitely sleeping in the bathtub tonight before your conflicted mind wanders any further.

He munches on the remainder of your dinner before finally digging into the cheesecake, and you feel blessed for the distraction from your shifting thoughts when you two chat about the mission at hand tomorrow. Is he worried about the curses you’ll be dealing with? No, of course not. According to him, he’s only worried about messing up his hair. Oh, and that expensive jacket you were careful not to touch earlier. With that all that added up, maybe he is nervous about it.

When the conversation dies down, the only sound in the unimpressive hotel room is the game show now playing on the practically vintage television. You quietly scroll your phone while your colleague digs into the soft dessert, stopping suddenly to stick his fork out to you.

“Want a bite? And before you say no, I already told you my cooties aren’t contagious.”

Is this real kindness? You whip your head to face him, studying the glob of caramel-drizzled sweetness, and he’s waving the fork around like a magic wand complete with some convincing “whoosh” sound effects. It’s even more comical with the way he fills his seat, almost like he’s sitting in a doll’s chair. The sight beside you makes you stifle a laugh, and in that moment you realize something: while he constantly irritates you, Satoru Gojo is the brightest, liveliest thing in that damn room. It’s not saying much given the plain wallpaper, dull sheets, and dusty furniture, but it all amounts to him looking pretty good despite your surroundings. If you weren’t sober right now, you’d admit that he looks pretty good just about anywhere. He’s so unfitting, literally, in the drab, cramped space that you almost want to let that very laugh out.

“Eh…I don’t believe you, but even if they weren’t... I couldn’t avoid them in this room anyway,” you joke sleepily, reaching for the fork and pushing the bite of cheesecake past your lips. He’s sitting pretty close, near enough that his spicy cologne still dances in your senses, but if he were any closer you’d swear you could spot him watching how your lips attached so tightly around the plastic silverware. You’re trying desperately to avoid the fact that sharing the fork was like indirectly kissing him, because if you think about it long enough it’ll make you blush all over again. So much for keeping a distance between you two.

You realize something else: he might’ve had a point with his dessert selection. “That is pretty good,” you commentate, handing him back the fork. There’s almost a soft expression on his blindfolded face when he wordlessly pushes the rest of the heaping slice between the two of you, as if the sugary dessert could substitute for a peace treaty. This is how all truces should go, you silently decide.

“Here, have some more in case you die tomorrow,” Gojo tuts with a grin, knowing fully well that you’d be perfectly fine during your assignment the next day. He loves to poke at you, but he can also recognize all the hard work you do. Hell, putting up with him was a full-time job, he could admit.

Your mouth flies open to let out a lighthearted “You asshole,” and you reflexively move to smack his shoulder. You’re even more shocked when your palm actually makes contact with the muscle there..as is he.

Gojo had turned his Infinity off. He must’ve gotten so caught up in wanting to break down your guard this evening that he neglected to remember his own.

“No way, I actually landed a hit on the Satoru Gojo,” you beam. Triumphantly taking another bite of the cheesecake, you feel his gaze train on you. His face-chiseled, you have to say- is conveying something unidentifiable. There’s some surprise and some amusement, but there’s another emotion lingering in the slight rise of his light eyebrows and his relaxed jaw. Something deeper, almost longing. It honestly concerns you for a moment, but he’s quick to recover by slumping backward over the chair, clutching a hand where yours landed just seconds before.

“Abuse! How dare you!” He declares, gripping his shoulder in the throes of his dramatics. “Yaga will be hearing about this. I’m reporting you to the higher-ups!”

“Don’t even. I’ll tell them you sabotaged my technology then,” you counter, waving your phone. “Oh, and that you misused company funds.” You point accusingly at the heap of cheesecake between you both. “And then we’ll both get fired.”

His fists hit the table as he falls forward dramatically. “Ugh…But then we’d end up living here,” he sighs woefully, “and that would be the worst part of all.”

You openly crack up at his refreshing honesty, finally recognizing this room for the shithole that it is, and you feel a newfound warmth spread throughout your chest. “Hmmm… But then we could keep ordering this cheesecake.” Maybe you like bantering with him, you decide.

Gojo chuckles as he stands up from his seat, dragging it back to where it resided in the corner and going along with your bit. “Not if we can’t ‘misuse our funds,’ you tattletale. We better start thinking of a side hustle to keep our lifestyle going.”

There’s a certain weight to “we”s and “our”s that make your heart palpitate just the slightest. It’s like a promise of a future together, a future beyond the uninspiring walls you were forced to rest in tonight. Still in your fit of tired giggles, you close up the remainder of the dessert before sticking it in the hotel room’s loud, antiquated mini fridge. The change of pace between you both is almost freeing, allowing you to consider the idea of actually sleeping somewhat soundly tonight.

“Well, you ponder on that. I’m gonna get ready for bed.” You’re quick to tuck into the bathroom as your laughter dies down, taking your bag with you to switch into the pajamas you packed. All the while, you’re secretly wondering what the sleeping situation is going to look like. You know you’re desperate for rest and given how the evening between you two has warmed a little, the idea of sharing the tiny bed with Gojo is…less than awful to you now. You step out, only to gasp when said man is right outside the door. He’s leaning against the frame with his own bag slung over his shoulder, grinning wickedly and looking all too smug

“My turn, princess. Coming through!”

The novel nickname flutters through your system as he squeezes past you, closing the door in your face with another low chuckle. God, he’s an idiot, you think with a smile, opting to perch in the seat he used for dinner until he returns to the room.

You’re playing a mindless game on your phone when you hear the bathroom door squeak closed, and Gojo plops back into the stiff bed. There’s no shirt on his sculpted body, only a baggy pair of black pajama pants whose waistband barely kisses his narrow hips. Humbled is an understatement when you try not to ogle at the sorcerer before you, whose murder you were secretly plotting just hours before. The skin on your face is akin to the Sun’s surface as you summon every ounce of will not to stare, but his Six Eyes promptly detects the sheepish change in your demeanor.

“So, you sharing this thing with me or what?” He looks over at you in the chair as he stretches over the traverse of the mattress, head propped on one hand while the other toys with his blindfold. “Since you don’t seem to care about my cooties anymore.” The repeated movement of those long, deft fingers looping around the fabric is enough to conjure a flashback to him eating those damn steak bites, and you feel hot all over again. It shouldn’t be suggestive, it really shouldn’t, but the way he’s talking makes it seem like he wants you beside him.

You rest your chin in your hand as you reply with a frown, pretending to think, “Hmmm. That’s gonna be a tight fit.” He snorts in response, something devious but expected on the tip of his tongue, and you realize it as soon as you answer. “Don’t even say it, Gojo.”

He feigns surprise, scooting over and patting the pillow beside him. “Pffft. When have I been known to say anything out of pocket?” He can’t deny the thought of fitting tightly somewhere else, his aqua eyes flashing with a desire he’s never allowed himself to feel for a long time. “Listen princess, you’ve only got two choices for tonight, so pick wisely. There’s somewhere tight-“ he pats the pillow again, -“or somewhere wet.” The thumb previously tugging on the fabric around his eyes jabs toward the bathroom door.

There’s that nickname again. “How erotic,” you snicker, wordlessly complying and letting your exhaustion guide the way to the empty side of the bed. It’s not a ton of space, but you’ll do your best to make it work. Carefully, you slide in to avoid touching him, realizing just how difficult that task is going to be in your limited amount of territory. Should you make a pillow border between you two? No, because then that would take up even more precious space. Maybe if you bunched up some of your blanket-

“Alright! Wait till Shoko hears about this!”

Gojo visibly approves of your choice as he watches you timidly sidle in next to him, wearing that stupidly eager grin on his face and whooping like a sports game attendee. Shooting him a playful glare and an “Oh, enough with you, Six Eyes,” you feel the cool sheets hit your skin, and your body erupts in goosebumps through your thin-ish shirt and shorts. You quickly face the opposite way as him, but not before stealing another glance at his ridiculously toned chest and stomach as he reaches to turn the bedside lamp off. God, he smells so good, like minty toothpaste and his cologne. Darkness abruptly envelops you as your heart pounds, and you have a horrible thought: Who said I wouldn’t be wet sleeping here?

You hear Gojo release a barely audible sigh, almost as if he’s tentative to fall asleep beside you too. He’s not sure who to trust less, you or himself, but he hides his apprehension with a couple more quips as you settle into the compact mattress.

“You have any idea how many people would pay to be where you are right now? You are so lucky.”

He could talk in circles with you again for hours if it meant prolonging the inevitable vulnerability that is unconsciousness beside another person- though a deeper part of him reasons there’s nothing to worry about. Maybe there are other things you could do instead of talk, he thinks, doing little to shake the idea away. It’s kind of nice, way more than nice, the image of you all spread out below him-

The eye roll you respond with is felt by him but not seen in the lightless room. Clouded by an atypical hunger and pure fatigue, you murmur back, “Don’t worry, I tip well,” and a smug smile forms on your face. It’s kind of fun getting to poke back at him. That’s all it is, right? Harmless banter. Gojo senses your intentions on a level unbeknownst to you, though- and he’s not entirely upset at them.

“Listen to you! That was smooth. I just might give you a discount for that.” You hear the sheets rustle beside you, and you slowly turn. He’s fully facing you, boyishly propping his head up on his fist with his near-glowing eyes now exposed. You notice that his blindfold has now been placed neatly on the outdated nightstand. He’s keenly tuned in on you, finding your pajamas a little too cute for a pre-mission night of sleep. It’s clearly getting more difficult for him to deny how entertained he is by the sight of you all snuggled in on your diminutive side of the crappy hotel bed.

You pretend to cover your eyes after seeing his finally revealed to you, feeling thoroughly proud of yourself for matching his energy now. “Put those LEDs away, good lord,” you joke, allowing yourself to let out a sleepy laugh as you pull up the covers to give your bumpy skin some salvation. His intentful gaze is already doing plenty to send heat throughout your limbs though, and the act of grabbing the blanket is an effort in vain. As your eyelids flutter with the weight of tiredness, you understand just how close you two are in the moment. Mentally, you were so much farther away earlier in the evening than you are now- and it takes a second for you to process that you actually like the change.

Gojo laughs softly, and you can hear the late hour begin to seep into his tone. It grows more throaty, lower than before, and it’s entirely too pleasant. Part of you wonders if he’d consider the proposition of reading you a bedtime story. There’s a lingering tension in the air, nearly tangible, and it shifts when you note how his eyes flicker all over your face. Eyes, lips, back to eyes, back to lips.

“Maybe I wanna look at you a little longer. Are you gonna report me to the higher-ups for that, too?” Gojo bats his icy white lashes, his oaky scent further settling into the sheets. The only light in the shoddy room comes from his vibrant irises, and they’re spotlighting on you with piqued interest. The light has always come from him, and it’s an epiphany that has you scooting an inch closer.

“If those things blind me, I will.” You exhale through your nose, partially wishing you could reach out to the heat that radiates off his halfway bare body.

He blinks, and you swear the room flashes dark again for that split second. “Well, y’know, that might be a good thing,” he tries to reason lightheartedly, in a volume just above a whisper. “You wouldn’t have to look at this ugly room anymore.” You watch his hand- the same one you nearly salivated over earlier- land in the limited space between you two, almost as if it wants to cross that border. It takes the most willpower you’ve ever needed not to stare at it, feeling your face flush with a sick anticipation. “I’d be saving you.” Maybe it’s what he’s always wanted to do all along, you both think, and it encourages you to be just as coy back.

In this moment, you feel bold enough to say something you thought would never leave your mouth: “But then I wouldn’t get to look at all six foot three of you.” You pout sarcastically, and Gojo gets the urge to kiss it right off your face. His grin is proud; it’s everything he never knew he wanted to hear.

Your teasing is like a silent permission for his hand to move closer to you, and your entire body stills when you feel it land gently on your lower thigh to play with the frilled hem of your shorts. Must be a pattern of his, you realize. He chuckles, and the sound is so low that you can practically feel it.

“Hmm… You’re right. Again.” Your work partner’s head tilts down slightly at you, and his expression is overcome with what can only be described as relief. “Guess I need to save you some other way.” He notices the goosebumps adorning your figure, and suddenly you’re pressed up against his broad chest. God, he’s so warm, you don’t even realize the way you’re curling right up into him. Somehow, despite your height difference, you fit perfectly along his lanky frame.

“Better?”

You are tired, fatigued beyond belief, but you’d be stupid not to stay awake to experience Satoru Gojo letting his guard down for you. Perhaps this dismal hotel room was a test of will for you two, and while you’re not entirely sure what denotes passing or failing, you do know one thing: Satoru Gojo is unbelievably comfortable to cuddle with.

Still…you wonder what would unfold if you pushed further.

“Hmmm… still not warm enough.” The words leave you before you can tame them, and the unspoken invitation behind them makes his eyebrows raise. The hand playing with the fabric of your shorts squeezes into your skin just the slightest, prompting you to look up at him where you see no reserves on his handsome (God, it’s good to admit that) face. His soft pink lips hover inches from your own, drawing closer like magnets.

“Really.” You feel a thumb rub slow circles along your outer thigh. “I can fix that for you, yeah?” His words shoot straight to your core as his head ducks a little lower, just breaths away from yours.

Well, you’re definitely not tired anymore.

“If you’re still offering that discount…” you breathe out. A rush of smugness allows you to bring your hands to his toned chest, traveling up to trace his defined collarbone. His skin is soft, almost velvety, most likely from years of keeping his perimeter so trained to avoid any unnecessary contact, and the act of smoothing your fingers over it becomes soothing.

Gojo’s lopsided grin conveys the desire he’s suppressed for so long, seemingly caught up in this new dynamic with you. “Nah, we’ll put it on the credit card,” he finally laughs before confidently pressing his lips to yours.

He is an entirely new taste, and you’re not able to reference his movements to anything or anyone; it’s another level of tact and precision. Did he plan this? His kisses are the perfect mix of messy and firm, and it’s clear he’s doing all but holding back. Something unlocks as he goes through the motions, maybe the realization of the snapped tension or maybe the feeling of you kissing back just as passionately, and his mouth soon scatters everywhere from your lips to your jaw to your neck in a flurry of teeth and tongue. He’s somehow magically in tune with your most sensitive areas of the exposed skin as his lips wander, leaving you to grab his firm bicep and cling as if he’s grounding you to the earth. The details of the dingy hotel room are completely abandoned as you feel your senses envelop, finally, with all that is Satoru Gojo, and there was truly no beauty greater than that.

Chest heaving, you almost let out a laugh at how rapidly the night has shifted. His well-trained hands travel, one squeezing the tissue of your breast over your thin shirt while the other dances just below the leg of your shorts. With all walls down, it’s pointless to hide the effect his touch has on you. If his hand moved any higher, he’d discover how wet you were- part of you dreaded how inflated his ego would become after that, but the other, hungrier part of you needed him to do it.

“Anyone ever told you-“ Gojo breathes out between his attack, brushing a thumb over your hardened nipple, “how pretty you are?” He is all too focused on drinking in your features, finding your weakest and favorite points. Your back arches ridiculously easily into his touch as you struggle to find the words to answer him.

“N-no one else that’s mattered.”

You’re sure his ego will balloon rapidly upon that little admission, but you partly didn’t care- not when he was capable of making you feel so unbelievably good.

He’s rightfully amused at how blatant your desire is now. “Oh? So I do matter to you then.” His other hand roams up your thigh, threatening to reach where you wanted it most. You snicker before a shudder erupts from you when a long, hot stripe is licked down your neck and over your shoulder, and it’s all you need to swing your leg over his, straddling him on the stiff, narrow mattress. The flex of his abs as he sits up to accommodate you is nothing short of poetic, and you find more prose in the clouded, desperate fog of his azure eyes when he watches you with curiosity. He immediately rests his grip on your waist, pressing you down gently onto what can only be described as a monster underneath his sweats. You understand now why he carries himself the way that he does: He’s fucking huge.

You push your chest against his, unable to stop the twitch of your hips when you feel Gojo’s hardness brush against your heat. The wetness of your arousal is sure to be felt through the fabric, and he’d be silly to halt your admittedly cute display of attempts in chasing just an ounce of pleasure. Your flushed face, furrowed eyebrows, small noises, it’s motion picture to him. However, he selfishly wants to be that pleasure for you, and he’s quick to slide a hand down your body to cup your pussy through your pajamas.

Your jaw goes slack as Gojo’s hand makes contact with your most sensitive area over your shorts, and the circles he rubs help him collect some of the condensation from the fabric. It feels good, but not good enough, and you can’t help but huff at the restricted movement. He is all too cocky when his hand pulls away, eyeing it with an intense mirth.

“Damn, waterworks, you always get this wet?” He’s half-amazed and half-amused as he studies his glistening fingers, his other hand gripping at your ass. “That’s so hot.”

“Shut up, Satoru.” You smack his bare shoulder before burying your face into it, feeling your cheeks turn crimson. He chuckles, finding you adorable when you’re embarrassed yet hating that you feel that way. He knows just how to help you get over that, and he starts by slowly sliding his body down, holding your thighs spread as he maneuvers his head onto the flat-ish pillow. You glare down confusedly at him in his newfound position, only to meet with eager cerulean eyes that are practically begging to pull you closer.

“Fine then, I’ve got other stuff I wanna do with my mouth anyway,” you hear him murmur from between your thighs, and his hand brushes over your clothed, throbbing cunt again. “Now sit, princess.”

“Huh? No, you won’t be able to breathe, I can’t.” Your head shakes vigorously in disapproval. Not that you didn’t want them there, but there was no way… you’d probably end up suffocating the guy, and while you had a more murderous urge to do that earlier this evening you’d much rather-

“Fine with me, now lemme taste you,” Gojo insists with almost a whine in his tone, not letting you respond before pulling the soaked crotch of your shorts to the side and licking a long, forceful line from your hole to your clit. You moan when he does it again, and again, feeling your knees weaken to finally sink yourself onto his mouth. The groan that vibrates against your nerve endings makes you look down, only to see his frosty white lashes flutter as you fill his senses. This was well worth the hours of wearing down your resolve this evening.

His movements become frantic, desperate to experience you now that he’s let his guard down this long with no dire consequences. You feel his tongue lap at your sensitive clit, and his lips kiss in your heat so loudly and wetly that it sounds like a porn scene. Your hands fly to his ivory hair, gripping till his scalp stings. This makes him groan again, and you can barely control the way your hips start to rock along his mouth.

Gojo breaks away for a split second, tongue dragging along your inner thigh with his cock nearly in pain because of he’s got you where he wants you. “Just like that, baby, ride my face,” he huffs quickly before returning to flattening his tongue along your clit. You feel him squeeze the cheeks of your ass, forcing you onto the hot muscle and encouraging you to continue.

He seems to be breathing just fine, you realize- which of course he is, he’s Satoru fucking Gojo- he could handle just about anything. It gives you the confidence to rut your hips forward, moaning louder when his lips wrap around your overstimulated nerve and suck hard. You earn a playful smack on your ass when his name slips out of your mouth, and the stinging sends you further into your frenzy for pleasure as you start to build up a pace. It’s addicting, really, the way he’s lapping and sucking at your aching cunt like it’s his favorite dessert, and you’re suddenly thankful that he has the appetite that he does. He breaks away for a second to spit into your heat, spreading your slick folds wide with those deft fingers of his, and that only has you rocking harder along his mouth when he reattaches himself. To him, you are so much better than any sweet he’s had.

You don’t even realize you’re doing it, but you’re tugging Gojo’s snowy tresses in shallow efforts to further bury his face in your cunt as you ride it, and he’s all too happy that you’re using him in this way. As his tongue prods up into your tight entrance, he feels his cock throb again at the prospect of how it would feel inside of you. He groans at the thought, and you feel it all the way up in your ribcage. He’s already picked up on the fact that you’re close, judging by how your frantic movements have sped up and the way you’re babbling incoherent praises that only make him ache more.

“Fuck, Satoru, feels so- good- please…”

When Gojo lets out a little laugh at that, you feel your slick dribble messily down your thighs. That hot, blinding pressure grows stronger under your navel when you grind harder on his tongue, threatening to spill over when he starts to flick it along your clit to match your pace. It all feels so deliciously good that you pay no mind to his nails digging into your flesh, his own way of ensuring he’s leaving a mark- as if he hasn’t decorated your neck in shades of blotchy fuchsia already.

“I’m-so-close….”

He gives your ass another smack with your breathy cry, looking up at you with eyes that nearly beam. You look down while your hips continue to drag along his tongue, finding him just so damn pretty while he’s eating you so good, and you ease your fingers in his hair. That impending sensation grows stronger, and he quickly parts from your lips to murmur confidently:

“I know, princess, I got you. Lemme have it.”

His choice of words and the way he immediately goes back to lapping at your heat are both more than enough to have you coming apart around his tongue in mere seconds. There is nothing in your mind’s eye but Gojo as your high overtakes you, fizzling through your being and prompting you to cry out his name as if it’s a chant. He soaks it all in, helping you ride out your release before slowing to kiss his way back up your body. You’ve never come that hard- and somehow, he senses this too. Your legs feel like jelly when he’s finally face-to-face with you, and his is glistening with your arousal. If he wasn’t desperate to be inside of you right now he could do that for hours, he thinks.

You lean in, capturing your lips with Gojo’s and wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him deeply. Your own taste on your lips does little to dissuade you from him, and for the next few moments, you both feverishly rip off whatever clothing is still unfortunately on your bodies. He, as gracefully as he can given the annoyingly small hotel bed, maneuvers you onto the pillow so you’re lying on your back, and you feel his heavy cock hit your stomach. He pauses for a second to study your features, finding that every inch of you is worth burning to memory. You’re stunning like this, all sticky and flushed and needy, and it’s all because of his efforts. He’s only more gratified when your mouth flies open at his impressive size.

“You're kidding. That's not gonna fit,” You sputter, still in your post-orgasm daze, but you feel your hole clench around nothing when you notice the filmy drops of pre beading around his thick tip.

His laugh is genuine, almost melodic as he pumps himself a few times. “Such a downer. We’ll make it fit, ‘kay?” Gojo promises with a goofy grin, letting his hand wander along your bare nipples and stomach before eventually revisiting your now sore cunt. You hiss in delight when he slides one of his long fingers in, and your legs spread automatically at the intrusion. Even in the most cramped bed ever, you’d realize you’d make room for him anywhere. You reach out, dragging your hand along his chiseled stomach, nearly in awe at how firm the muscles are there. He’s like if art was living, breathing, unrestricted from a canvas or frame.

Your hand slides further, silently encouraging his own to move so you can take over stroking his hardened cock as his finger curls along your hot walls. You moan quietly, watching his breath hitch in his broad chest- he’s not sure whether to watch your face or your movements, and there’s an eagerness within him that amplifies when he sees how tightly you’re sucking in just a digit of his. His hips jut forward slightly when your thumb brushes his sensitive tip, and he finally decides to look into your eyes. You stare back, wanting to say so much about how his are the perfect shade of blue.

“Y’know why I harass you so much?” He asks in a tone that reaches a new level of softness for him, and you entertain his question as he slowly introduces a second finger. The stretch is delicious, though you think it’s doing little to prep for the monstrosity that awaits you.

“‘Cause you’re Satoru Gojo?” You reply before letting out a hiss at a particularly sensitive spot he hits within you.

He snorts. “Well, yeah, and ‘cause I think you’re pretty. Inside and out. Gorgeous, actually.”

You blush a little at how he turns a silly banter into a very real confession, and you watch his eyelids flutter again. Actually, you feel kind of bad for being so lighthearted while he was being serious- that was his thing, anyway. Times like these were what made his bluntness endearing, and he continues, beginning to align his length with your dripping entrance after slowly removing his fingers.

“So, lemme prove it.”

Feeling all kinds of giddy you nod, angling your thighs so his hips can fit between them. His spongy tip drags through your slick folds, and it’s the most you’ve ever felt another person focus so directly on you. You look up at him, bringing your hands up his stomach and to his defined shoulders as his tip sinks into you just the slightest.

“Well, you’re pretty too, like otherworldly handsome,” you admit back with a timid smile, clearly trying to regain your breath. “Just couldn’t tell you ‘cause you were too busy harassing me.” You exhale when he submerges himself a little more, and he smiles back with his pearly white teeth. “You’re fucking huge, too… oh my god…” you add, moaning a little at how his cock feels nothing like his fingers. You hate to admit it, but it’s clear he’s set to wreck you.

“Naturally.” He’s using every ounce of strength to control himself from pounding into you, responding to your praise and your criticism all at once. Gojo slowly and gently pushes in until his hips are flush with yours, and it feels as if he’s tearing you from the inside. Your face is scrunched at the intrusion, and he has to cover his own mouth to stop a moan at how tight you feel. There’s no other convincing needed by him that your pussy was practically made for him, he thinks, and he studies your features for any indication of stopping.

“Look at you,” he coos, nearly mesmerized by how your cunt has already swallowed him whole. His hand slides down his face to tweak at one of your hardened nipples. “And you said I wouldn’t fit. Takin’ it like a pro, princess.” His lighthearted motivation makes you snicker a little, and it eases some of the stinging from the stretch he’s causing. He gives you a few shallow thrusts, and his eyes practically roll to the back of his head when your hot walls grip around him. It takes a few moments for you to adjust to his size, and when finally you do, you give him the silent go-ahead by softening your expression. His grin could blind a room full of people when he thrusts deeper, not only reaching that same sensitive spot but finding another, and it makes your head loll back to the pillow.

That reminds him. He pauses for a second to slide one of the cheap hotel pillows under your tailbone, and suddenly his cock feels like it’s colliding with your guts when he continues his movements. Your mouth couldn’t fall any more open as he starts to establish a pace, filling you so masterfully yet harshly with every stroke.

“Sa-to-ru…” you pant, digging your nails into Gojo’s sculpted back, and this only motivates him more. You have a realization that could either be horrible or amazing: How could you ever fuck anyone else again? Again and again he’s thrusting into that magical spot till the sounds of your wetness fill the otherwise lackluster room, spoiling you for any other and reassuring you that yes, he really is the strongest. Part of him knows how skilled he is, and he has to refrain from laughing- no one would ever be enough once he was done with you. Then again, he never wants to be done with you.

You feel his tactful hands roam your body aimlessly, a visible sign of his enrapture with how you receive him. He wants to focus on watching his cock slam into your cunt over and over, but he also wants to watch your face as you writhe and cry out his name- he’s clearly conflicted.

The little breathy noises slipping out of him aren’t helping your cause, and the way he abruptly throws one of your legs over his broad shoulder doesn’t either. He’s now rutting into your tight heat relentlessly, a stark contrast from how delicately he’s kissing up the thigh that’s pressed into his chest.

“Your pussy is...perfect,” you hear Gojo groan, drawing the words out, and his kisses along your thigh become animalistic as they turn into bites. You whimper, back arching with all the sensations filling your system, and that heady feeling in your tummy begins to strengthen again. “Wanna-fuck you- forever…”

“Please,” you agree as your ability to form sentences leaves you. “Don’t ever- stop…”

In a perfect world, he wouldn’t. As one hand holds your thigh to his chest and the other travels to your overstimulated clit, his shiny blue eyes watch your contorting face, smiling proudly when you moan at how his fingers rub tight circles along your nerves. He can feel his release approaching alongside yours, and your slick walls flutter around his cock as he pummels into you.

“Want another one, princess,” Gojo pants, making your skin smack against his as your orgasm builds up in your tummy. “Go on, come on- my cock…”

His wish is your command. You quickly lean forward, mashing your lips with his when the pleasure fizzles out of you all over again. You feel the tips of your toes burn at how powerfully your release hits you, wracking your body with an almost overwhelming amount of pleasure. You’re reduced to a heaving, shaking mess, convulsing around his length and left only able to babble his name against his mouth in your state of bliss. His hand cradles the back of your head as he fucks you through the aftershock and kisses you roughly, only to follow close behind just moments later. His movements falter before your name falls from his lips, and his hips stutter as you feel yourself start to fill with his thick seed.

Holy shit. Who would’ve guessed that this was how your evening would turn out? Just mere hours ago you wanted to claw at his throat, and instead you clawed at his back because of how good he was dicking you down. Your mind swims as Gojo slowly withdraws, slipping out of your sore cunt to collapse beside you in what little space the hotel bed offered. He’s even gorgeous like this, maybe more than ever actually. You’re observing how his ivory hair sticks to his forehead and his back glistens with the thinnest layer of sweat from his efforts, the muscles there decorated with thin red indents from your nails. It’s a sight worth recreating an infinite number of times.

Not having him envelop all your senses anymore forces you back into reality, where a mission lies just hours ahead of you and your shared hotel room isn’t any prettier. And unbelievably, those things don’t even matter anymore. All you can perceive and recognize in your afterglow is Satoru Gojo, who is already regaining his breath while you lie there like a fucked-out mess. Beautiful.

Gojo turns to face you, watching your chest rise and fall as you regulate yourself, and his delighted grin is all too perfect for someone who just obliterated you.

“So…you warm enough now?”

Your sticky body shifts to face him, vibrating with laughter as you answer “For now, yes…” and your head hits the pillow exhaustedly. That’s right- you were already tired before this “development” even happened.

His whole being is pure elation as he languidly drapes an arm over your bare figure. “Does that mean we get to do that again? I think she really likes me.” His hand brushes over your abused cunt, and your body flares at his touch yet again. It was a sick epiphany that he could destroy you and you’d still want more.

You snicker. “Yes, but she is super sore right now.” The sleepiness from earlier seeps into your brain, and you find yourself curling back into his lanky frame. He accepts you openly, resting a hand on your ass as he scoops you closer.

“I can kiss her better,” he pipes up quietly, already thinking of all the ways he could keep touching you. Even though you feel that droning buzz of want again, you tiredly shake your head, regretfully reminding him “Noooo, we’ve gotta get up in a few hours. Maybe after our mission.” You swear his eyes desaturate a shade before he sighs.

“Yeah yeah yeah. You’re gonna be tired and sore anyway.”

“Oh, and you’re not?”

“Nah.” Gojo moves to press a fresh batch of kisses all over your neck, and you shudder. He did have a point- you were already planning on shotgunning whatever energy drinks were in the dingy hotel lobby’s vending machine in the morning, as if they even had one. “I could go all night if you wanted, princess. Give you more of my cooties.”

You laugh freely, realizing he probably wasn’t exaggerating. It’s quite the offer from the one who just wrecked you so good- and you’d be silly to refuse despite your tiredness. You feeling your limbs tangle into each other’s, returning thoughts of the hazardous hotel drifting away once more, and your arousal slowly revisits you. What an incredible way to forget about your surroundings. You tug playfully on his icy tresses, you decide that this might be your new favorite kind of exhaustion. “As long as you don’t share your cooties with anyone else.”

Snickering, Gojo keenly zeroes on spreading your aching legs so he can see the aftermath from earlier, and he’s hardening again at the sight of his thick cum barely trickling out onto your thighs. With a mischievous smile, he assures you, “Never. This is just too pretty. Plus, you said you were gonna tip well.”

His hands trace you, and there’s not a more discernible indicator of your new bond with him than when you look down at his length, answering him in a familiarly cheeky tone, “Well, you already did.” He laughs, the warmest he's ever allowed himself, and it's certain he's keeping his promise.

Turns out, Shoko was right about him.

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk smut #jjk gojo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojou x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #mdni #jjk #jjk x you #satoru gojo

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yuellii · 1 year

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catch me if you can, salvatore

𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 there are quite obvious red flags in your relationship, and they’re all from him

feat. neuvillette, zhongli, pierro ( separately )

note. reader’s gender unspecified, the old men of genshin ( i’m so sorry ), established toxic marriages given the prompt, possible fontaine lore inconsistencies

> [part one] . part two

NEUVILLETTE. always too serious

Your bedroom was a space sadly quieter than even the outdoors. For at least on your doorstep, the sounds of crickets were heard, the mechanical noises of distant construction were there—but here, there was not even a sound.

Perhaps you were too sensitive. But you also thought a spouse had every right to feel love and respect from their husband, and you felt none of that. The suffocation of this Fontaine air only brought up an even more suffocating man, and you fear you may lose your breath before even coming to your senses.

“You’re up late.” He stood right behind you at the opening of the balcony. Of course, you didn’t hear him coming from inside that silent fortress of a household. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

His words—you wish he didn’t say them, for they’ll unwillingly fill your thoughts with the idea that he cares. But sometimes ( or perhaps most ), you were too foolish to counteract that.

“Couldn’t sleep,” you simply said, continuing to stare out into the blue aura of the nation. A technicolor world made of music and machine—but unfortunately, your husband was only like a machine. “Was so caught up awake, completely immersed by your current court performance,” you yawned sarcastically.

He grumbled, “It’s a court hearing, not a silly performance.” Then, he joined you at the bar of the balcony, perhaps far too distanced from you for your liking. He was never next to you; always paces away just light tonight. “And I’ve been telling you, I can sign you up as a spectator or part of the jury.”

You almost snarled after he failed to pick up your sarcasm. “I’d rather die before you did that,” you scoffed. “Me? Sitting in that stuffy courthouse whilst you talk for hours? If it were my way, Her Grace would’ve had her way a long time ago. Perhaps you can learn from her, sometime. It can loosen you up for once.” He turned to glare at you.

“Oh, spare me the levity.” From the way he suddenly straightened his back, presenting himself a towering height over you, you knew you were about to be scolded. “If you cannot take the Court of Fontaine for what it is instead of a laughing stock, than perhaps you should be the next one on a treason hearing for exile.”

Your stomach dropped. As inconceivable as it sounded, you wouldn’t put it past him with how booming his tone was. And… coming from your own husband… “I wasn’t trying to be disrespectful, good Monsieur.” To very man that wore your wedding band. “But spare me one truth…”

“Right now, are you my husband, or are you the Chief Justice?”

You immediately regretted the question once his eyes looked ready to kill.

⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

ZHONGLI. overprotective

Sunrise, Midday, Sunset, Midnight.

You could only see the light from the cold glass of your window, or the freshest air from your porch. Sometimes the fresh sea breeze of the harbor, but that was more of a rarity.

You loved Liyue Harbor; so did your husband. Living in Jueyun Karst was safe, sure, but it was boring. And maybe, there was a time that you loved the harbor so much during Lantern Rite—a time where lanterns graced the sky and fireworks were heard all the way from your small home in Minlin. So much, in fact, you almost felt like Rapunzel in those fairytale books when she leaped out of the comforts of her tower to chase the lights.

And even moreso like Rapunzel when Zhongli saw you at the harbor with a look of horror on his face, not caring of the genuine smile you carried before dragging you away by the wrist. Perhaps it was then that you felt more like his scolded child than his ‘beloved’ spouse.

Could he not see the light in your eyes as you pranced around the harbor? Could he not understand how boring it was to be cooped up in the mountains for your ‘safety’? It sucked, it really did. And it sucked even more once you tasted freedom at the harbor, once you met people that would never shackle down your life to never experience the many joys that Liyue had to offer.

“Am I your partner, or your controlled child?!” you seethed once he dragged you back inside the house.

“I am simply bringing you back after you failed to listen to me,” Zhongli calmly stated. Calm, he was also so calm, emotions be damned. “I told you not to go to the harbor, especially on your own. Have I told you what happened before through the tale of Osial?”

You coughed out in exasperation. “You’re acting like this during a festival?” There was a clear betrayal in your voice—it was truly something he had been hiding from you all this time. “You’re just going to let me be locked up in here, because you think a festival is unsafe?”

“It’s for your protection.”

“‘Protection’, give me a break, Zhongli.” You were near desperate to go back, like once you got an inch of freedom, you suddenly needed it all—but perhaps he only saw you like a partner who needs to be more controlled. “I married you for all your adventurous tales,” you reasoned. “You sounded much more excitingly interesting than you actually are, I fear.”

He continued to stare at you, face hardening into something of a glare like a parent disciplining a child. You hated it. You hated this, you hated him. And as he walked back out with the door locked by some force, you could only wonder how you married a man so cruel.

⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

PIERRO. a master manipulator

“You know I love you.”

The large pads of his fingers massaged coarsely through your hair at the very top of your head, brushing the your scalp almost delicately like a doll.

“Right?”

It felt almost like Hell itself to feel flutters in your stomach from the way the deep mess of his voice resounded in your ears. It was akin to signing a contract with the devil, like this feeling of infatuation was a demon’s sickly trick. “I do.”

He hummed in contentment. Not like you pleased him with your answer, but like you answered him correctly, as if this some sort of test where there was only one right answer.

He had you seated down on his lap, and it still made you feel like a doll. But there was an uncertainty in it—one that made you question if you should be feeling used and disgusted, or in love with being pampered by your husband like this.

You married a leading man of the most dangerous elites. Perhaps the fluttering feelings pulling at your heart were more of a warning sign than something good, but you couldn’t help it when he made you feel so special. Special words, special treatment—so painfully addicting and so obvious to win your favor for your hand in marriage.

“When the time comes,” he whispered once more, as if speaking the holy words only pure lovers could dare to hear, “would you die for me?”

You should’ve know this was coming, truly. It should’ve been clear the moment he courted you, and painfully obvious once he wanted to wed you. A puppet he could control at his will, someone who looked so innocent compared to the dangerous looks of the Fatui—a person easily stricken by love and compliments, easily you.

But he captured your heart in a way that was devouring, like your love was swallowed into a black hold the moment you showed any weakness. He trapped you in a web you could not escape once pulled in, and you feared you were truly doomed from the start. But that was how the leader of the Harbingers worked; and that was how you gave up your life.

“Yes, I would.”

#zhongli x reader #neuvillette x reader #pierro x reader #harbingers x reader #genshin men x reader #genshin imagines #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin x reader

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ynyaan · 8 months

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𝙎𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙡 𖦹 | 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧 𓆩♕𓆪

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 |

𝙈𝙤𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙣𝘼𝙐!𝙎𝙪𝙠𝙪𝙣𝙖 𝙭 𝙍𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜𝘾𝙡𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨!𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 | 𝙁𝙚𝙢!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

Summary: You wear "revealing" clothing to a supermarket with Sukuna. Unfortunate to say, two strangers were not at all pleased. "Like hell, I'd let you touch her." He grits his teeth, watching the man in front of me kneel and wither in pain.

tw. you can change what you wear to what you please. In this fic though, it's described to give more context. Sukuna in his own body modern AU. Getting shamed; use of words: whore. Sukuna is violent as usual.

note. got emotionally personal here. I hope you find comfort in this fic as I did when I wrote it. <33

.ᐟ 𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙚𝙚𝙩𝙝-𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛

Today was shopping day. You've finally run out of enough comfort foods to force you out of the house. You groan loudly in your room. You were wearing only your undergarments and were already getting tired of the idea of having to find clothes to wear.

a familiar face walks by your room. Sukuna stops and leans on your door, his eyes observing your lazy state. "C'mon brat. Dress pretty. I'll take you out after shopping."

Your head snaps excitedly to Sukuna. It was rare of him to invite you out, especially since you were both so busy all the time. You simply just cherish the swift time at home cuddling and whatnot. Sukuna smirked at your reaction. Satisfied, he left to give you time to choose and change clothes.

After much consideration and throwing closet clothes on the floor, you decided to wear something showy, a cropped tee with its ends tied, a plaid skirt that falls above your knees, paired with a small bag and boots. You choose your accessories, put on a touch of makeup, and then you are good to go. "Kuna~!" You sing.

As you walk out the door, you find Sukuna looking at his phone and then quickly looking at you. You twirl, showcasing your outfit as he smiles. He walks towards you and grabs you by the waist. "How awful. My princess dolled up so pretty." He grins, his grip on your waist secure, leaning in for a kiss.

You stop him with your hand. "No. Kuna' we all know what a kiss will lead to," You pout, and Sukuna laughs silently on your skin. "Now, come on, I expect you to take me on to a charming night!"

The supermarket was the same as ever. Customers minding their business, the sound of cashier ringing in the distance, and stocks of your comfort foods.

"Ahh, there you are. I've missed you." You gleam at the snacks in front of you. Snack's destined to be finished within the week. You were left alone for a bit since Sukuna usually parts with you to grab things he needs as well.

By "needs," he grabs excessive amounts of food that would leave you bankrupt if you didn't pick through them every time you passed by him.

"Hey there." Suddenly, someone taps your shoulder. You turn your head to see two guys standing in front of you.

"Hello, do you need help with anything?" you smile politely.

"Ugh, seriously?" The first guy sneers. You tilt your head at him, hoping that comment wasn't directed at you.

"Dude, she's totally leading us on. Did you see that snarky smile?" The other guy says. Your eyebrows bridged together. Just your luck to be left in an aisle with these two idiots, huh?

"Sorry, you're getting the wrong idea-" You get cut off by a hand that warmly placed itself on your shoulder.

"You know em'?" Sukuna's voice was husky and low, gesturing his head towards the two men.

"Not really—“ Before you could finish explaining, The second guy from behind steps in, "Dude, you should really cover your girl up." He comments.

"Yeah, like, the way she looked at us earlier? damn, I almost mistook her for a whore." The other one added. Your heart sank at the disgusting comments made by them. You placed both your hands on your skirt, your basket resting on your arm. You actually felt confident to wear something like this because you knew Sukuna would be with you, you knew Sukuna would approve of it, and you knew YOU would feel good as well.

"Ha." your thoughts get cut off by Sukuna's voice. If looks could kill, indeed. You knew this situation would escalate, and really, all you want is a smooth, relaxing evening with your lover.

You raise your hand high enough for them to notice, "I'm sorry, you really got the wrong idea—“ Suddenly, the first guy tries to grab you by extending his hand swiftly, but before his fingers could reach you, Sukuna stops him by the wrist.

The next thing you hear is the painful cry and a loud snap. Sukuna broke his wrist all while his other hand was still secured onto your shoulder.

"Like hell, I'd let you touch her." He grits his teeth, watching the man in front of me kneel and wither in pain. The second guy wasted no time and launched at Sukuna, only for him to be dodged and punched right in the nose.

People started clamoring around, and you could already hear security calling backup.

"Sukuna, let's go." You urge him but not waiting for a response. You grab his hand, and you drop your basket. You run.

You were both parked at a nearby park, immediately driving away after leaving the supermarket. "You really didn't have to do all that ryo'." You softly say, inspecting the hand that he used to punch the guy.

"Besides, it's my fault. I should've dressed more modestly." You muttered under your breath. But He heard it.

"Don't ever fucking say that again." He grits his teeth. You look up at him, surprised by the sudden anger in his tone. His expression was tense, worried? maybe even a gloss of tears, if you will.

He moves his hand to push strands of hair behind your ear. It was soft, so painfully gentle. "People like that don't deserve to live. They don't deserve to have eyes nor mouths." He rambles, cupping your cheeks and kissing everywhere.

"If they were decent people, they wouldn't even think of looking at you like that, darling. They are delirious, annoying, little shits, who have nothing to do but try and push people down." He holds your hand firmly, his gaze unflinching.

"you will not be knocked down, my love. They do not deserve the space in your mind to bring you down." He lowers his head and kisses the back of your hand.

You exhale. You exhale and smile.

"I love you," he says. He looks so unbelievably beautiful.

You squeeze his hand gently before replying, "Thank you, kuna’. I love you too."

He smirks, a playful grin places itself on his lips. "That's my girl."

"I supposed we'll be banned there, won't we?" You ask, remembering the reason why you were in the supermarket anyway.

He scoffs, "Whatever, i'll ask someone else to do it for us." Sukuna grumbles, kissing the tip of your nose.

He leans back and starts up the car again, "Right now, you deserve a date."

───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── 𝐼'𝓁𝓁 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇 <𝟥

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johnpriceslamb · 8 months

Note

I will always love the idea of being rescued by a cowboy (Arthur Morgan).

Just the image of running away from someone in Saint Denis. Maybe it’s due to a misunderstanding, robbery or simply a creep. Making the dumb mistake of not hiding in a shop and finding yourself in an alleyway trapped. Except the real person in trouble is the stalker because Arthur Morgan is about to serve a knuckle sandwich. Or gun. Doesn’t matter, dead either way.

𝓜𝓨 𝓗𝓔𝓡𝓞 ,

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ˚₊‧꒰ Things take a really wrong turn once visiting Saint Denis to stock up on food for camp. Luckily, Arthur insisted on accompanying you. ꒱

BEFORE YOU PROCEED ! ┊ Hyper-fem(?) ! reader • female ! reader • reader is mentioned 2 be physically shorter than characters mentioned below • gun-slinging mention • brute cowboy bf x shy princess gf • arthur morgan being a complete nut over u • harassment • attempted assault • not proof-read :P • very rushed ‘m sorriiii!!! • 1.6k wrds

“But Arthur—”

“No.”

The small stuffed toy in your hands looks hurt from his rejection, as do your expression on your face. You hug the little guy to your chest, and you put on your best puppy eyes to try and make him change his mind. This usually works, but unfortunately- it did not, this time.

“We ain’t gettin’ that.” He grumbles, lazy eyes looking around the fancy store. He’s uncomfortable, you could tell. From the way he glances at all the bright coloured items sitting preciously on such elegant shelves, you’d think it would’ve costed at least a finger or too to even manage one, the golden floral designs embarked in the corners of the interior, to the fancy looking tiles beneath your feet.

It’s too.. fancy. He stands out like a larger thorn amongst a stem of a rose.

You puff out your cheeks at his slow-growing irritation. Before reluctantly putting it back on the shelf you found it on.

Then, he continues on with a low sigh. Your hand was in his, and he leads you around very similar to a grumpy dad leading his daughter from all the chaos happening which surrounds them. There was too many people, and he feels like he’s about to become crabbier each second will pass being in this awful store.

“We’re here to buy food, not toys.” He grunts, before gently giving you back your empty woven basket.

You begrudgingly force yourself to not reply, sticking close to him.

Suddenly, your eyes perk up at the small sign embedded with ‘Spices’ in bold which hung up from the ceiling. You tug on his sleeve, “Arthur?”

“Hmm?” He looks back. His heart almost aches from the way your beady eyes stare up at him like a small puppy.

“Can we get some spices? Y’know, for the stews Pearson makes. Only a bottle or two!” You pleaded sweetly, gesturing to the sign afar. “It’ll make his food taste more.. appetising.”

He ponders, before nodding slowly. “Hm.. Alright. Get two though, make sure it ain’t so spicy.” He pats your lower back to encourage you to get it quicker. You beam and nod, but before you go, you hand him the basket so he could continue shopping, scampering away to get the said items.

The array of little wooden jars sealed tightly with spices made you in awe. You can practically smell each and one of them from a literal mile away despite the thin layer of sticky-tape which goes around the rim of the jar multiple times.

You unconsciously place a finger on your cheek, pondering on which one to get. Not long, your hands reach up to a jar embedded with the words ‘pepper’ and another reaching up to ‘nut-meg.’ Each selling for only a dollar. Not too bad.

And you feel a towering presence behind you. Believing it was your beloved, you eagerly turn around with a squeak— “I’ve got the!— uh..”

A few blinks and an abrupt pause. It was not Arthur.

Rather, a man with leering eyes, and a predatory-like gaze.

You shift around uncomfortably, “..Um. Can I help you, mister?” Posing to be polite, perhaps the man just wanted help with something.

He stares at you for a bit too long, and you can see his eyes lowering and lowering, before travelling up your figure once again.

He coughs, “Ain’t you a pretty lil’ thang..” Before scratching at his long unkept beard.

Your steps are quick, almost backing into the shelves of spices.

“..Please leave me alone,” You meekly stutter.

He flashes you a crooked teeth grin. “Now why in the hell would I do that?” He takes another step towards you. All instincts inside you rise up quickly, and not long after you pocket the spices inside your light-pink dress before immediately turning to the side to leave.

You don’t notice the fact that he follows you. Only until you reach the same spot Arthur beckoned you to go and get the items you wanted, he wasn’t there. You feel insanely insecure due to the fact that you could not find Arthur amongst the crowd of people inside the large general store. Only then do you stop, and feel..

hot breath hitting your neck.

You squeal, turning around immediately and backing away.

“Get— get the hell away from me!” Your frilly cries cause a few people to turn their heads towards your direction, only to ignore you as soon as they assessed the situation.

He has the same crooked teeth smile on his face as he slowly creeps up to you again. And with that, you hitch up your long floral skirt and run. Run to the exit of the general store with a squeal- only for some crazy man to quickly follow after you.

You want to hit yourself on the head. You didn’t have any guns, nor did you remember to pack the pocket knife Charles gifted you to protect yourself from anyone. You were never one to raise your hands to anyone, nor try to cause conflict.

You bump into a few people, earning scowls and empty threats. You didn’t care, not with a lunatic right on your feet.

“When I catch you—” You hear him heavily breathing, “‘M gon’ do real bad things t’ you, real bad.”

You want to tear up. Badly. But you don’t. Your mind is in shambles as you turn a corner, only to almost run face-to-face to a brick wall which stands tall and high.

You were cornered.

You sob loudly, scratching at the brick walls- you’re well aware that this alone will do absolutely nothing, and your painted nails will probably have cracks on the tips of them. But with panic crumpling your brain, you tend to do things a bit.. weird.

The walls between the two of you are so close it feels like you’re about to faint. An echo of laughter is what catches your attention as you slowly turn around.

“Please, mister!” You plead with a loud sniffle, “I— I— we don’t even know each other!” You let out a loud enough wail when he approached rapidly.

“Ohoh, dumb and pretty. What a package.” He rubs his hands eagerly, almost drooling at your pathetic sight, “You really thought you could outrun me?”

“Don’t make this harder, sweetheart. Just take them frilly lil’ clothes off.. In-fact, why don’t I help ya..”

You clumsily slap him once he’s just a centimetre away from you. Hardly. A low growl escapes his lips, his head turned sideways from that harsh slap.

“You little bit—”

A bullet whizzes past you. It hits the bricks behind you, just a hair-length away. It causes you to yelp loudly, as does the man who was about to slap you back. You peek your head over his shoulder, only to let out a loud cry of relief.

“You better let her go, friend.” The same cowboy who’s uttered the sweetest praise to you and only you, talks in a tone too cold for your liking. Something you’ve never heard nor experience.

“Who the hell is that?” He snarls to you.

“I said, let her go.” Arthur is not afraid to put a bullet through his head. His shoulder is gripped tightly and yanked away from you, leaving you to allow your knees to buckle from shock as you leaned on the wall to help you balance yourself from the shock.

With a harsh bonk to the head with the butt of his revolver, the man slumps on the dirty ground. An obvious purple dent on his head.

Arthur rushes over to your shaking form, immediately scooping you into his arms and squishing you into a tight bear-hug. You’re probably gonna regret the fact that some of your powder will get onto his chest, but you hiccup and hug him tighter for comfort.

You stammer out, “I— he.. I thought I was gonna die..”

He brushes your hair with his burly fingers, “You’re okay, sweetheart. Don’t think about it no more. No one’s gon’ kill ya if I’m here.”

Suddenly, he looks you up and down quickly to assess you. “You ain’t hurt anywhere are you..?”

“No,” You shake your head meekly, “‘M okay. I.. I think I need a bit of time to myself at camp, though.”

“I understand.” He nods and gently puts an arm around your waist to guide you back to the wagon parked a long way away.

His hands brush past against your pockets and notices two hard cylinder shaped objects in them.

Suddenly, your eyes widen, “Oh darn- I-I forgot to pay for the spices!” He’s amused at your lack of profanity used.

He interrupts you with a soft chuckle, before squishing you a bit tighter, “Guess that makes the two of us. Rushed out with the groceries in the basket to find ya and didn’t pay. Reckon we gotta go another route to get to the wagon, passing by the general store will surely just get us into more trouble.”

You could envision that scene playing out. Arthur realising that you weren’t there, and immediately rushing out of the general store with a bunch of items inside the basket to find you.

“Don’t think we’ll be visiting Saint Denis anytime soon.” You feel a tug on your hand as you see a shopkeeper loudly calling out for the two of you.

You squeak and giggle as he easily grabs onto your waist and ran for dear life to the wagon with your shop-lifted grocery items. If you were to give a quick glance to the insides of the basket again, you can see a faint blur of a stuffed toy.

#fem! reader #rdr2 x you #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan #afab! reader #arthur morgan x fem! you #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 #arthur morgan x fem! reader #arthur morgan fic #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 fanfic #hyperfem! reader

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ourfatherwhoartinhell · 3 months

Text

Love, Eternal // [Part I]

Pairing | Phantom x Sister!Reader

Word count | 937

⚠️ Warnings | Reader uses she/her pronouns, (y/n) is used once. There is a small ritual scene. TW for murder ghouls, blood, injuries, assault, violence, and death.

Plot Summary: Today was Phantom's summoning day, a special occasion akin to a birthday. Eager to surprise him with a homemade cake, you realize you're missing ingredients and head into town. On the way back, you encounter trouble with some members of the Catholic church that changes the course of your life in the Ministry - and with Phantom - forever.

A/N: THIS FIC IS SAD AF OK, it has a happy ending tho! I'm so sorry my dearest Phantom, he's everyone's punching bag. This is my first time writing a ghoul x reader fic, hopefully it's ok! It will have 4 parts 🖤

Today was a very special day, it was Phantom’s summoning day! Or ‘birthday’ as it was called on the surface. You were so excited to put your baking skills to use and surprise the young ghoul with his first homemade birthday cake, knowing how much he loved anything sweet.

You and Phantom had a special connection. Ever since he first laid his eyes on you during his summoning ritual, he knew you were made for him. While it’s well documented that ghouls struggle with possessive tendencies, this wasn’t anything like that. Phantom simply liked your aura, it made him feel calm and safe.

Heading down into the kitchen, you smiled as you excitedly skipped through the long hallway, eager to get started. You had asked Swiss and Rain to keep Phantom busy all day so he wouldn’t spoil his own surprise - you learnt your lesson from the unfortunate incident last year. It was a daunting task, but you tried to have faith in Rain to succeed at the very least.

The kitchen was empty for the most part, save for a couple water ghouls finishing off the last of the dishes from today's wonderful lunch service. Laying out the ingredients for the cake on the large table, you took stock of what you had, making sure not a single item was missing before you started.

“Milk… flour… sugar… blah, blah,” you counted. “For Satan's sake, who leaves 1 singular egg in the carton. I’ll strangle them.”

Apart from the main ingredients, the kitchen staff had accidentally borrowed your blueberries for the delicious fruit tarts they made for dessert. You were now short on berries, as well as missing a couple of eggs and purple food colouring. You wanted to add some purple to represent his Quintessence and his pretty violet eyes.

“Hey guys,” you called over to the water ghouls at the sink. “Do you mind making sure no one touches the ingredients on the table? They’re for Phantom’s summoning day cake. I’ll be right back for them, I just have to run to the store.”

The two ghouls nodded, hearing a murmur of ‘sure’ and ‘no problem!’ as you wrote down the list of missing ingredients on a napkin, stuffing it into the pockets of your long skirt. You made your way through the halls of the basement towards the ghoul den, wanting to inform the two ghouls holding Phantom hostage of the delay.

Once Swiss and Rain were up to speed, you briefly told Copia that you were on your way into town to grab the remaining ingredients - and ultimately of what you were doing for Phantom. Copia thought it was a fantastic idea and wished you a safe trip, making you promise to let him know when you’ve returned safely.

You threw a light shawl over your shoulders and donned some sturdier walking shoes than your usual Ministerial flats, before passing through the large front doors to begin the walk into town.

The Ministry did have cars at one point, the previous Sister Imperator thought they would be a good way to promote the teachings of Ghost. However, they became a financial burden anytime someone took them to town. The Christian protestors never failed to make their displeasure known, the cars often returning with smashed windows, slashed tires, or spray painted threats. The few vehicles they had always came back in all states of disrepair

The town was a solid 25 minute walk, but it was decided to be a far better alternative. The remaining vehicles were then gifted to the Fire ghouls who skillfully turned them into beautiful, ornate gothic lawn ornaments and statues. One vehicle was kept exclusively for the Ministry’s weekly grocery runs. The Siblings in the kitchen were now always accompanied by no less than 2 of the older, more experienced ghouls when they made their trip.

Your walk was majorly uneventful. It was a nice autumn day with the perfect temperature. The sun was peeking through the odd fluffy batches of clouds. Birds in the trees surrounding the walkway were happily chirping. Once you reached the town limit, the quaint shop was the first building on the right-hand side. You expertly navigated the store, gathering all the missing ingredients.

The Sisters of Sin were often mistaken for the Sisters of the Catholic congregation down the road. The cashiers would always smile brightly, and wish God’s blessing upon you as you paid for your items. You couldn’t really blame them for the mistake. Apart from small differences in accessories, the habit worn by you and your Sisters was all but identical to the Christians.

“And may the truth of Saint Lucifer be shown to you,” you quietly mumbled. Smiling kindly towards the cashier, you placed the ingredients in the bag hung over your shoulder and exited the store.

The sun began to set as you made the long trek back to the Ministry. Even in the dark, you never felt scared as you walked the unlit path through the forest. You knew there were always a couple Earth ghouls out in these woods. Tending to the trees, plants and animals, the ghouls that happened to be close to the path acted as the Siblings personal security guards. Monitoring changes in scent, or identifying potential dangers as the Siblings made their way through the forest.

Once you reached the end of the path, you turned the corner to make the final march up the gravel driveway. Making your first steps through the open iron gate, you noticed you were being followed.

“Peace be upon you, Sister. If we can even call you that.”

[Next]

#the band ghost #ghost band #nameless ghouls #ghost ghouls #phantom ghoul #phantom x reader #phantom ghoul imagine #ghost ghoul fic #phantom ghoul fic #nameless ghoul imagines #nameless ghoul fic #nameless ghoul x reader #ghost band x reader

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moirasdolly · 2 months

Text

˚ ⋆ﾟ୨୧ Digitally Yours ୨୧ ˚ ⋆ﾟMoira x Fem Reader

Synopsis: Your 1 year anniversary is fast approaching and what better way to celebrate it than going back to the place that started it all.

Contains: NSFW, implied plus size reader, age gap, face sitting, vaginal fingering, etc,… moira is a bit freaky (in a good way)

Listening to ♪ ིྀ: Stay Ready (What a Life) - Jhené Aiko, Kendrick Lamar

Previous chapter: 6

Notes: Last chapter of this fic and i’m feeling happy yet sad TT. This is the first fic I’ve actually committed to and finished!! I had a ton of fun with this fic and I hope everyone enjoyed it as much as I did. I might write an epilogue for life while they live together c; You’ll just have to look out for that hehe, please enjoy 🩷

❤︎ Chapter 7: Domestic

After the initial week Moira spent with you, you found that her visits to your home were more frequent. She was there multiple times a week, sometimes even everyday, not that you were complaining. She couldn’t bear to be away from you for too long or else she’d start to miss you too much. Everything from your cute mannerisms, the way you rambled on and jumped from topic to topic, to how you paid attention to her and hung on to her every word. She loved and adored you so much she was thinking of popping the question–not the big one… yet, but to move in together. The time in which you had started dating began to fly by and soon enough, it was almost a year since you had been dating.

Today was one of the elusive days where she wasn’t cuddled up with you, unfortunately she had a long day at the lab and ended up heading straight home afterwards. She was not completely deprived of seeing you though because as soon as she got home she heard the tell-tale chime of the ringtone she had picked out specifically for when you called. It rang throughout her home and she set her possessions down before answering. “Mo ghrá, how did you know I was craving your divine presence?” She murmured, exhaustion clear in her face. You giggled softly and her heart fluttered, “Oh you know… a little birdy told me you might wanna talk tonight.” You supply after a beat of silence. She shook her head softly, finally sitting down in her luscious armchair in her living room.

“Who’s this little birdy? Do tell, darling.” She teases, her slight accent peaking through. “You caught me! There was no birdy, I just wanted to talk to you.” You give up almost instantly, you knew from her texts that she was having a rough work day, so you put your mind to work to think of something that might relieve her stress. “I have a surprise.” You look at her, narrowing your eyes slightly as your lips curled into a devious smile. Now that Moira looked closer, your hair and makeup were done up, and if she wasn’t making things up, it reminded her of how you used to look when you would cam. “Well now you’ve got my attention…” She trailed off, leaving room for you to reveal your surprise.

Pink and perfectly manicured nails crept up to the zipper of your hoodie and you began pulling it down painfully slow. You peaked up at the older woman through your thick lashes and bit back a smile as she struggled to stay silent. Her eyes flickered from your fingers, to your chest, to your face in a frenzy as you teased her. You decided to get to the point and fully unzip your sweater, revealing the most angelic lingerie set Moira had ever seen you in. To put it simply, you took her breath away. You were adorned in a white lacy balconette bra completed with a dainty bow in the center that cascaded down your soft tummy. Where the bow ended, your skimpy little panties started. White ruffles hugged and squeezed at your hips, accentuating your curves deliciously. A garter belt was secured around your waist and Moira couldn’t help but let her eyes wander down to where the little clips of the garter belt held up sheer thigh high stockings. Her mouth almost watered at how your plump thighs slightly spilled over the top of your stockings.

You could tell you hit the jackpot with this set because the other woman was genuinely dumbfounded. You pouted slightly to tease her when she didn’t compliment you with words, and she snapped out of her stupor. “Pardon me doll, it's just that I didn’t want to be vulgar with my first thoughts when you revealed yourself to me.” Her words made you blush of course, but you cleared your throat to cover the fact before speaking, “Well what do you think now?” She pushed her hair out of her face with her dexterous fingers, but a strand still made its way back to her face and you were about to combust. Your girlfriend was the most attractive person on the planet. You almost missed her words because you were too busy ogling her. “What do I think? I think you look like an angel.” She began, “I wish I could be there to admire you in person, but don’t worry, next time I’m in your presence I’ll show you just how beautiful I think you are.” Your heart beat wildly, and you didn’t think it was possible to feel butterflies like this after dating for almost a year, but the way your partner spoke to you made you feel like you were falling in love all over again.

“Just show me now then.” You say simply, scooting back slightly so she could have a better view of your full body. Your eyes widened briefly as a thought popped into your head. This almost felt like an old stream, so you muttered a username you never thought you would again. “Doctorsorders, please help me feel good.” You say with a slight tilt of your head as you part your thighs slightly. Moira chuckled softly as her head fell back in disbelief. “Oh how I never thought I’d hear that again. You little minx, you know exactly what you’re doing.” She teased gently. She played along though exactly how you wanted her to, you had her wrapped around your finger and she enjoyed every moment of it.

After your little escapade on the phone with Moira the both of you were tired out and just missed each other, but you settled on sleeping on FaceTime with one another. After showering and getting ready for bed, the two of you joined each other once more to snuggle into your respective beds. You would have preferred if she was there with you, but you couldn’t blame her for not wanting to make the commute to your home after a long day. You had gotten cozy in an oversized t-shirt and your comfiest panties before slipping under the covers with Moira on the tiny screen in front of you.

“My love, did you like the show I put on for you? I hope I could help you relax after work.” Sincerity dripped from your saccharine tone. She nods simply, “Of course, I enjoyed watching you come undone under my guidance as well.” You thrust your face into your pillow and whine softly. The pillow muffled your embarrassment, thank God. “You weren’t so composed either Miss ‘Just like that, oh your so divine!’” You mocked her words from earlier as she pleasured herself to the sight of you. She cleared her throat in an attempt to save herself, but you were already snickering at her. “I suppose I’ll never give you what you want again. No more kisses, cuddles… my fingers curling into you. None of that.” She feigns seriousness. “Okay, okay, okay… I won’t tease you anymore, even though you probably love it.” You surrender to her easily. “I do love it, little dove, just not as much as I love teasing you back.” Your eyes roll on their own and you can’t help it. Moira really was a tease.

Sleepy conversation flows between you easily, as always, and the topic of your anniversary comes up. “Mo grhá our anniversary is tomorrow, what do you say I come over?” She suggests. You nod your head enthusiastically at the idea, your head was already running wild with ways to surprise Moira other than the gift you had already gotten for her. The dainty silver band you had bought would serve as a promise ring for her, and of course you got one to match. You were already giddy and nearly bouncing off the walls with excitement to give it to her, but before you could say anything she spoke up again, “I don’t want you to do anything baby. Please let me do the surprising and planning this time.” You groan dramatically, but comply… partially. “Okay, but I already have something for you, so that doesn’t count. Starting now I’ll let you do all the work.” You wink at her and she laughs softly, “That’s more like it, dove. Now we better sleep before it’s too late. I want you to be well rested for tomorrow.” Her words were gentle, but firm in a way that left no room for arguments, but you agreed anyway. You were already beginning to feel tired from earlier, so sleep came naturally to you. In no time you were lulled to sleep by the sight of Moira and her soft breathing through the phone.

The next morning you woke up to soft knocking on your door and a blank screen. You frowned at the sight and groaned out of frustration of being woken up so early. You reasoned that Moira must have accidentally ended the call, but didn’t want to disturb your sleep by calling again. When the knocks persisted, you sighed and slid off of your bed to retrieve a pair of shorts from your drawers so you wouldn’t accidentally flash whoever was at your door. Once you opened the door, all of the irritable feelings you had dissipated as you saw your love standing on the other side of the door. “Baby!” You cooed as you flung your arms around her neck and brought her into a tight hug. “Why didn’t you just use your keys?” Confusion washes over your face as you recall the spare keys she had.

In a way that was uncharacteristic for Moira she smiled sheepishly before looking to the side, “I wanted to see you so badly, I left with everything but the keys, my apologies, love.” You shook your head with a giggle, “It’s okay. Anytime I see you I’m happy, even if it is 7 in the morning.” The taller woman scoops you up into her arms and your legs wrapped around her waist easily as she carries you back into your home and onto the couch. The two of you plop down and you situate yourself onto her lap before nuzzling into her neck. Fatigue washed over you again, since you were woken up a bit earlier than you would have liked to be, even if it was by your beloved. “Dear, let me carry you to your bed, there are a few things I need to retrieve from the car.” You make a noise adjacent to a whine, but it was muffled by her neck. “I know darling, it’ll only be a minute though, then I’ll join you in bed.”

Reluctantly you agree and she settled you back under the covers before bringing in the ice chest she had packed for your outting later in the day. Moments later you felt her body slot against your own and you instantly melted into her. Your back pressed against her chest and she wrapped her strong arms around you and held you impossibly close to her. “I’ll wake you in a few hours, dove.” She whispered before kissing the back of your neck. You barely registered what she said, but hummed in agreement anyway before letting yourself fall back asleep.

A little over 2 hours later you were awoken by the woman behind you running her hands on your sides and whispering a soft, “Wake up, darling.” Your eyes flutter open and this time you feel well rested, Moira seemed to have that effect on you. “Did you sleep too?” You questioned her as you turned around to face her properly. Your legs wrapped around her waist easily and you clung to her. “Just for a moment, I guess I was looking forward to today too much to sleep.” She confessed, and planted a sweet kiss on your forehead. Your nose scrunched up in faux disgust as you teased her for being sappy.

“I’m sure you’ll be equally sappy when you find out what the plans are for today.” She teases back. The two of you lay together for a few more moments before finally dragging yourselves out of bed to eat breakfast. Moira had made acai bowls for the special occasion and you couldn’t be more happy. Your sweet tooth was satisfied for the time being and you rose to collect both of your bowls to wash before she stopped you and grabbed them herself. She tutted quietly before shooing you off to get ready. She had told you to wear something you would be cool in. You opted for the light blue gingham romper that you had recently bought. You tied the strings that made up the straps into bows on your shoulder and adjusted the ribbons that sat at your thigh. The romper was completed with delicate ruffles along your thighs and you decided that you looked like an absolute doll.

You swiftly moved on to makeup and hair with your signature look, and after over an hour of getting ready you peaked your head out of your bedroom door to see Moira situated on your couch watching whatever show she had chosen to occupy herself while she waited for you. A smile played on your lips as you met her eyes and she beckoned you to come to her. “Oh you sweet-thing. You look lovely. Is this new?” Her thin fingers tugged on the hem of your romper and you nodded in confirmation. “I bought it last week, but I haven’t gotten the chance to wear it, and today is the perfect day so…” You trail off slightly. “Very well then, if you’ll excuse me I’m going to freshen up as well.” You hit her arm slightly and giggled, “You had all this time to get ready, and you wait until I’m done?” There was no malice in your voice of course, you were just jesting at her.

“Forgive me, mo grhá, I’ll be just a moment.” She slid an arm around your waist and kissed the top of your head before disappearing into your bedroom. True to her word, she was out in no time in a flowy button up and a pair of fitted slacks. Your eyes wandered to how the shirt hung off of her shoulders and how her exposed collarbones looked so kissable. You just can’t resist and you shuffle over to her before planting sticky, lip gloss coated kisses all over her collarbones and neck.

“Now you can’t wipe those off!” A devious little smile made its way to your face. “Luckily where we’re going, I won’t have to hide the evidence of your affection…” She explains quickly before heading to the kitchen to retrieve the ice chest she had brought in while you were asleep. Your face lit up at the sight and you assumed the two of you would be going on a picnic similar to the one of your first meeting. She started ushering you to the door, but just before leaving you remembered the promise rings. You shooed her away to the car, reassuring her that you had forgotten something before rummaging through your drawer to find them. You slipped them into your purse and rushed out the door to meet her in the car.

Your suspicions of going on a picnic were confirmed once you started on the path to the beautiful park with the huge clearing, just like the first time. She let you be in charge of music for the car ride, so the vehicle was filled with soft melodic tunes that felt like they would set the tone for the rest of the date. You rested your chin on your hand as the park came to the view before sneaking a look at the woman beside you. She parked under the shade and as you began unbuckling your seatbelt and reaching for the door handle, she gently grabbed your hand and shook her head. “Let me set everything up first, I’ll come get you once everything is done.” She looked utterly serious and you didn’t question it, but instead hummed in agreement. You wondered what she had in store for you.

After taking the ice chest all the way to the clearing she came back to the car to retrieve the rest of the items she had brought for the anniversary. “I trust there was no snooping, right darling?” She questioned as she searched your eyes for an answer. “Never, Moira. Whatever surprise you have for me must be big if you’re being so quiet about it.” Your sweet voice was all she needed for reassurance.

As she carried everything back to the blanket she had set up, she felt her heart beating at a faster pace than she realized before. She was about to ask you to move in with you, hell she had already bought the house. She was sure you would say yes, but what if you thought she was trying to rush things, or what if you were sad you wouldn’t be living in your home anymore. There were so many things she felt would go wrong, but she shoved those worries to the back of her mind and slipped the key ring she had bought for you into her pocket, along with a jewelry box containing a necklace. She exhaled in a loud huff before deciding she had spent enough time worrying and she wanted to finally go get you.

Out of the corner of your eye you could see your lover making her way to you and you couldn’t contain your excitement anymore. You burst out of the car, making sure to grab your purse with the rings in it. She extended her hand to you, and you grabbed it with no hesitation as she guided you to the picnic spot. A gasp escaped your pretty, glossy lips as you saw what she had laid out for you. There was a huge picnic blanket with a large ice chest in the corner filled to the brim with your favorite foods. There were containers of sushi that had extra ice packed around it to ensure it stayed fresh, an assortment of watermelon, peaches, strawberries, and other fresh fruit, and an abundance of home made sweets that you were sure Moira spent hours on. In the center laid a large bouquet of pink and white flowers that had a similar feel to the one you had given to her. Glasses for whatever drink she had brought sat next to the ice chest and sprawled out over the blanket were soft and luscious pillows for comfort.

You looked at her like she held the stars in the sky and you knew that there was absolutely nobody else for you in this world except for her. She guided you to sit down and you obliged easily, “What a gentlewoman…” You giggle softly as you take a seat, she followed suit right after. “Anything for my love.” She mused before handing you the bouquet for you to inspect. Pink peonies for luck and prosperity, baby’s breath for purity and love, pink orchids for femininity and grace, and daisies for new beginnings. She explained every little meaning to you, and you almost teared up at how thoughtful the older woman was. “You know it's funny,” she started, “I went to the same florist as you. She saw you on my phone since you’re my screen saver and her face lit up.” She recalled fondly. “She helped me pick out flowers that reminded me of you, of us. She even told me about how you were gushing over me to her.” Your cheeks heated up almost instantly, you had said some quite incriminating things. “Well everything I said I still feel to this day.” You confess, daring to look her in the eyes.

“I do have one question though… Why did you pick out a flower that represents new beginnings?” She noticed how you pursed your lips cutely before snapping out of it to answer. She dug into her pocket and pulled out a key ring adorned with a dainty ribbon. Attached to the ring was a singular key. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, wanting an explanation. “Would you do the honor of moving in with me, my sweet love?” Your eyes light up and you nod your head vigorously. “Of course!” You nearly jump into her arms and the two of you tumble onto the soft blanket. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask me.” You mumbled into her chest before planting a soft kiss on her lips.

“Well your dream has come true I suppose.” She chuckled softly. “I found a home for us that is close to your current home, I knew you wouldn’t want to move too far away from work.” Your eyes widened in surprise as she detailed the location, you had wondered how long it would take her to get to her lab now. It was as if she could see the worry flash across your soft features, so she reassured you that it was a happy medium between workplaces. Maybe she was being a bit generous when she said happy medium though because it was much closer to the cafe than her lab. Details, details.

You both chatted about your new home as you munched on all of the food Moira had packed. She really knew you because everything she had described to you sounded like the perfect home. You’d think about selling your home and how long it would take to move later, but for now you enjoyed the present and the giddy feeling that settled in your stomach. “What about rent? Should we go 50/50?” It was a valid question in any universe where you weren’t dating the older woman, but she seemed to have everything covered. “I own the home, little dove. I don’t want you to worry your pretty little head about anything.” She cooes as you pout at her. “Don’t give me that look.” She placed her hand on your chin and pulled you in for another kiss. You would be lying if you weren’t in absolute awe at the way Moira had everything planned for the two of you. You were overjoyed at the prospect of living with her, and you couldn’t wait to actually spend everyday with her. It wouldn’t be too different from how things were right now, but now you would be coming home to her and vice versa.

After a large portion of food had been cleared by the two of your hungry stomachs, you finally reached into your bag to retrieve the gift you had gotten her. “Happy anniversary…” You trailed off as you handed her the red velvet box. You urged her to open it and when she did, a look akin to a lovesick puppy struck her face. She held up the thin band of silver and admired it in its full beauty. “It’s a promise ring. I have a matching one, see?” You giggled as you held out your hand to show her. You reached to grab the ring from her and slid it onto her finger with ease before bringing her hand up to place a soft kiss on it. “Now we match.”

Moira found herself speechless at the thoughtfulness of your gift and she scooped you up into what seemed to be the millionth hug of the day. “Thank you, my heart. You Have no clue how much I cherish this. One day I’ll buy you the real thing though.” She buried her head into the crook of your neck and just breathed in your sweet, floral scent as the two of you laid together in the warm sun. Your heart felt extremely full and you thought to yourself that there was no better way to spend the anniversary. She had been so caught up with your gift though, that she had forgotten all about the necklace she picked out for you. She presented you with a dainty silver chain that was complete with a little dove charm. That’s exactly what she called you all the time. “Put it on for me?” She couldn’t say no to your saccharine voice and reached for the jewelry to secure it around your neck. She was impossibly close as she reached around your neck to clasp it shut. Once she was done she sat back and adjusted the pendant to be in the center.

You marveled at how gentle she was today, not that she wasn’t all the time, but there was a newfound tenderness in all of her actions that you found endearing. “Thank you, Moira. Seriously, you have made this the best day of my life.” You poured your heart to her and she carried the same feelings in her own heart. “There will be many days like this to come for as long as we’re together. I won’t let you go, my little dove.”

#digitally yours ˖ ࣪ 𝜗𝜚 #dulcet fics ♡#moira x fem reader #moira o’deorain x reader #moira x reader #moira o'deorain #moira #overwatch fanfiction

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solomons-poison · 1 year

Text

Miscommunications

Lucifer x reader

: ̗̀➛ A/N: Well it only took ages but I finally have a Luci fic finished </3 I don't usually like miscommunication as a trope but I do really like the idea of there being such a big mixup about what's going on until everyone goes "ohhhhh" with a happy ending. This is very self-comforting... Anyway enjoy~

: ̗̀➛ Warnings: implied fem reader; poor/lack of communication, mutual pining, confessions, reader is a little bit dumb haha, talk of anxiety and self-doubt, angst to fluff, first kisses 💋; barely proofread, just take it

: ̗̀➛ Word count: 5158

You never put much stock in finding the "tall, dark, and handsome" ideal in real life. Sure, there was the occasional person that somewhat fit these characteristics, but they never really caught your eye, somehow always being more generally attractive rather than truly attractive to you. But the moment your eyes landed on the Avatar of Pride, suddenly his face clicked into place in your little visual dictionary.

The demon was gorgeous, and he knew it. Long, lean body with broad shoulders and a slim waist, combined with his deep crimson eyes and dark hair streaked with gray; he was visually stunning to you, and certainly drew the eye of many an admirer wherever he went. You often found your gaze wandering to him when he was in the room, his presence alone sending your heart stuttering. It also didn't help that he knew exactly how to trip you up in other ways, the way he’d surprise you with a suggestive comment and the rumble of his deep voice making your heart pound for other reasons. He was particularly skilled in giving you the most brain-melting bedroom eyes you’d ever seen.

Besides his looks, he also knew how to act like a gentleman. You two had had your rough moments in the beginning, of course. You had quickly discovered his powerful anger and defensive nature, but you couldn't fault him for it when he was simply protecting his brothers. Once you broke through that shell, though, a loving, softer nature was apparent, one that enamored you and knew how to romance the hell out of you.

Unfortunately, that's what was tripping you up now. Ever since you'd gotten closer to Lucifer, the demon seemed to have some personal agenda out to charm you as much as possible. It started simple, giving you more compliments on your hard work than you thought necessary, paying attention to small details in your outfits, or bringing you little treats from his meetings with Diavolo. As time went on, the gifts increased in both number and value, as well as more time spent together. He would bring you more expensive or rare gifts such as perfume and limited-time baked goods from the Devildom's most popular bakeries. He began to invite you to the music room for what became weekly sessions of Demonus and a musical record, late at night when it was just the two of you. It was a rare moment where his walls came down and he openly talked with you about anything and everything, reminiscing on occasion about things his brothers would do in the Celestial Realm or passing on something funny that Diavolo had said. He even invited you to sit with him as he did his paperwork, the gentle sounds of pen scratching on paper filling the air when you couldn't think of what to say. It didn't matter that you had nothing to talk about, he assured you, he just enjoyed your company.

You couldn't begin to guess what you'd done to deserve this treatment, or how you managed to get so close to this powerful demon. Although you appreciated every gesture, it also left you nervous. It was almost inevitable that you developed feelings for Lucifer. Somewhere along the line, your respect for him and feeling of friendship had developed into deeper feelings, ones that made your chest ache and your heart beat faster when you thought of him. But you'd dealt with rejection before, and even worse, you'd been misled before, made to think someone liked you back only at your expense. Despite how close you'd gotten to Lucifer, you still couldn't tell what he was thinking sometimes, or how he felt. Perhaps he was only being nice, every gesture in good friendship simply for earning his and his brothers' trust. It also didn't help that your last relationship had ended after a long term, leaving you essentially new to the dating scene and completely out of your element. How were you supposed to move forward when you felt like you just essentially ended a marriage?

The final part that truly puzzled you was the "dates'' he would take you on. He seemed to dance around the word, always using some kind of synonym with you, which was why you were hesitant to label them as such yourself. Sometimes the “dates” were to restaurants, other times they were to the local shopping district. And when he took you out, he was always polite and the utmost gentleman, never touching you more than a guiding hand on the shoulder or upper back, pulling out your chair or pouring your drink, and conversation kept light and pleasant. Then, at the end, he always made sure to walk you to your door, thank you for indulging him, then give a satisfied smile before leaving for his own room. It was almost frustrating, trying to understand his intentions, and the last thing you wanted was to put a reason where there wasn't one, or overthink things that weren't actually happening.

But tonight, Lucifer had truly pulled out all the stops. He invited you to see a ballet in the Human World, La Bayadère, which in itself should have been a sign to you. The story was one of vengeance, justice, tragedy, but also fate and eternal love. Your doubts got the better of you, preventing you from fully absorbing the clues left around you. Perhaps if you’d thought longer on his choice of show, his true intentions would have been obvious to you, especially combined with what followed next.

Your heart almost stopped when he insisted on gifting you a fancy dress to wear to the occasion. It didn’t matter how much you complained that it was too much or that you could buy the dress on your own, the first-born wouldn’t stand for it. And for the icing on the cake, when he came to your door to fetch you, he gifted a bracelet that complemented the style and color of your dress, along with a bouquet of three roses. Although the number of roses seemed a little odd, you were too enamored by your companion’s looks to think more on the subject.

Lucifer himself was dressed in a gorgeous tuxedo, the lapels decorated with his signature peacock feathers, their rich blue and turquoise coloring setting off the redness of his irises. Another rose matching yours was placed in his breast pocket, and he'd also styled his hair a little differently, swept back out of his face. It was strange seeing him out of the usual fur-lined cloak and waistcoat, but certainly not in a bad way. You felt nervous being so dressed up, especially with someone as handsome as the demon beside you was, but a sweet smile lit up Lucifer's face as he took you all in, helping to ease your feelings a little.

As you two made your way to the ballet, finding your seats and settling in, you couldn't keep your eyes off of him, something he certainly didn't miss. To be honest, you were worried you'd be too distracted by his looks to watch the ballet. But as the show began, you thankfully got lost in the tragic yet romantic story, Lucifer leaning in occasionally to clarify parts of the story when you seemed confused, or telling you facts about the dancers themselves.

By the end, your mind was swirling, thinking of everything you'd seen and heard, reliving the evening for as long as you could. The two of you had arrived at the doorstep of the House of Lamentation faster than you would have liked, the outside lit up by the moonlight in the late hour. Neither of you could make a move to open the door beyond unlocking it, knowing the moment you did, all peace would likely be broken by the rambunctious brothers. And honestly, you didn't want to leave Lucifer's side just yet, wanted to find some reason to stay close to him like you were now, enjoy his presence and his attention a little longer. But you simply couldn't find a good excuse, at least not one that didn't make you feel needy and childish.

Little did you know that the tall demon beside you felt the same, though, his mind preparing his next words oh so carefully. For Lucifer felt the same, deep in love and trying so hard to figure out the words to make you stay by his side, to grace him with your presence for just a second longer.

He felt ridiculous sometimes, having lived for millennia yet these feelings made him feel young and inexperienced. It was embarrassing enough to have been found out by his colleagues so easily, Barbatos guessing his feelings in mere seconds when Lucifer had brought up the idea of the ballet in order to request the portal, and of course Diavolo instantly catching wind of the situation from his trusted butler.

Although he thought he was doing a good job of concealing his emotions from most others, his excitement over the date had given him away, something he never thought would happen. And now here he was, feeling the date was successful but lost on where to go from here, or better yet, how to make things progress. He hadn't spent all this time courting you the best way he knew how, just to fumble at the last second like an amateur.

Finally, Lucifer steeled his nerves and his eyes caught yours as he turned to look at you, admiring the way the moonlight lit up your features. There was a nervousness in your eyes that wasn’t there before, and it relieved him a little to know he wasn’t the only one affected by their nerves.

“Thank you for coming with me to the show, MC,” Lucifer said, a warm smile lighting up his face.

“Of course! Thank you for inviting me, it was amazing,” you gushed, a combination of nerves and excitement over the show causing you to speak faster than usual. “The story was so beautiful and sad, and I loved the music. I’m so glad we got to go.” It was impossible to keep the grin off your face, your cheeks hurting from smiling so much during the evening.

Lucifer couldn’t help but chuckle over your excitement.

“Good, I’m glad it was to your liking. That helps me decide on where some of our next outings should be. It certainly made for a very good end to this night.”

His implication made your cheeks warm. He wanted to go on more “outings” with you? Oh god. Was this a date? Did he see it as a date? Or were you overthinking things like usual, seeing something that wasn’t there? He probably just saw it as a fun time with a good friend, simply an enjoyable evening with someone whose companionship he tolerated, rather than some romantic venture. Of course he wouldn’t want to date someone like you, right?

As you had your silent breakdown, Lucifer pursed his lips for a moment before opening his mouth, taking one of your hands into his as a soft blush filled his cheeks.

“May I kiss you?”

You’d barely registered his touch on your hand before you realized Lucifer was speaking to you, the tall demon already leaning in a bit in preparation. A kiss? Of course you wanted him to kiss you, wanted to do that this whole time, if you were being honest. But as his query finally registered fully in your mind, registered what exactly that would mean, something snapped in your brain and you were reacting before you knew it.

As Lucifer’s face drew closer, a gasp tore out of you, all your nerves suddenly firing at once.

"NO!!!"

The sound echoed in the air– it came from you, you realized belatedly– as you snatched your hand back from his.

The force of your outburst caused you both to freeze, and your hand automatically came up to cover your mouth as you simply looked at each other in stunned silence. That certainly wasn't what you'd intended, but the damage was done. Lucifer looked shaken, obviously taken by surprise by such a forceful rejection. As he started to open his mouth, you couldn’t help yourself, the urge to flee the scene taking over all your senses.

“I— I’m sorry!” you exclaimed, before yanking the front door open and running inside.

“No, wait, I— MC! MC!!” he yelled after you, starting to follow you into the foyer. But you continued into the house and up the steps, not even turning back to look at him as you moved out of sight, leaving Lucifer to simply watch you vanish.

Lucifer couldn’t help but lean back against the wall by the front door, looking in the direction you’d run, and a sharp ache filled his chest as he absorbed what had just happened.

Your loud “no” was ringing in his ears, shaking him to his core. To be honest, despite being known for his pride, he knew rejection was always a possibility. Many things were predictable in his life; he could often predict the actions of his brothers: when Mammon would pull another money-scheming stunt, or when Satan would try to pull some kind of curse-prank on him, or even Leviathan’s freak outs over his video games and idol events. Hell, he could often predict the actions of Diavolo, as unpredictable as the Young Lord could be sometimes. But humans seemed to be a different sport all together, as you always left him guessing. Still, it surprised him just how much your rejection hurt.

It was also just the adamancy of your rejection. He could expect to be turned down, but to that degree? He knew he’d made a mistake, that it probably seemed like he’d expected a kiss from you, and he was fully prepared to formally apologize to you later for it. But for you to yell like that, when you never even raised your voice to his brothers before… had he been misreading the situation the whole time?

He forced himself to get up and make his way to his room, eager to get out of his suit and make some tea to calm his nerves. But he couldn’t help but linger on the thought that it boiled down to: you didn't love him back. Why else would you have shut him down so clearly? He had thought he'd been making progress in courting you, had thought you'd even been receptive to it. He'd never felt more like an idiot.

A week passed, and Lucifer still didn't get the opportunity to apologize to you or confront you. You kept communication to the bare minimum, short sentences or one-word answers where possible. If you two ended up alone together, you ran off as soon as you could. You'd even missed your weekly session of music and drinks, and it was telling when Lucifer didn't text you to check on you. You could tell your avoidance of him was hurting him, a resigned sadness lingering in his eyes anytime you saw him. You knew it was childish to keep avoiding the issue, but what were you supposed to do?

The others could tell something was up. It was obvious in the way they suddenly ceased most of their troublesome behavior, cautious in the way they approached either of you and otherwise left you to your own devices. Even Diavolo and Barbatos suspected something, sending separate messages inquiring if Lucifer was okay and if something happened, and you didn't know how to respond except requesting to give some time to explain later.

While Lucifer believed you declined the kiss on account of rejecting his advances— not that you knew this— the truth was that you were nervous. Nervous about exposing your feelings and becoming vulnerable, and nervous about realizing Lucifer may actually share your feelings, or at the very least sought something more than just a casual friendship. The realization completely hit you without warning when he'd asked to kiss you, and you'd reacted poorly because of it, unprepared to face your fears.

You needed to come clean to him, apologize for your outburst and be honest about why you'd run away. But the anxiety and the "what-ifs" filled your mind and overtook your reasoning. It haunted you to think that he may still reject you in the end, treat you like a toy or a joke like people have done in the past. Or what if this ruined your friendship? You'd spent so long earning his trust and gaining this level of friendship, so what if it was lost forever?

You couldn't help but sigh as you realized avoiding him now was ruining your friendship already.

It was too much to think of currently, and as you got ready for bed, you decided to head to the kitchen for a glass of water, something cool and refreshing to distract you for a moment. You turned the corner to go into the room but stopped in your tracks as you saw none other than Lucifer already standing at the counter, tending to a steaming tea cup. Your heart hurt just looking at him, and you immediately turned, hoping to get away before he saw you. But Lucifer's sensitive hearing picked up on your steps, and he instantly looked over in your direction.

He called your name, and your body stopped on its own, as if on command, to the sweet call of his voice. Your fight or flight response was itching to activate, and you did your best to ignore it. It was now or never, you couldn't keep running away. But damn if it wasn't so nerve-wracking to think about.

Steeling yourself, you slowly looked back at Lucifer. It was evident on his face that he was relieved you decided not to run away, at least not yet.

"MC, I apologize–" "I'm so sorry!!"

You both stopped, not expecting an apology from the other. Before Lucifer could continue, the words just burst out of you in a rush,

"I'm so sorry for the other night, I didn't mean to yell at you like that. I just wasn't expecting a kiss and it caught me off guard, but that's not your fault and I'm so sorry for yelling at you," you said, struggling to breathe at the end.

Lucifer shook his head, placing a rare uncovered hand to his chest in an act of sincerity.

"You have nothing to apologize for, MC," he said. "It is entirely my fault. It was my understanding Human World dates often ended with a kiss, but I shouldn't have assumed anything and checked with you first that you wanted as such. Instead, I made you uncomfortable with my assumption, and for that, I deeply apologize and hope you can forgive me." He bowed forward, the very image of chivalry.

“Oh, no, that wasn’t–” Date. Of course he would choose to use that word now. It echoed around in your brain for a moment before you could formulate a sentence, desperately trying to piece together the puzzle between you two and make sense of things. "Wait, ‘date’? Was this a date?"

Lucifer looked up from his bow, his brows furrowing together in mutual confusion.

"Uh, yes," he said slowly. "At least, that was my intention."

All you could do was blink owlishly at him.

"What— But. You never called it a date before."

Lucifer thought back on the times he'd invited you out and realized that may have been true. Perhaps he'd been self-consciously avoiding the term, to lower the chance of outright rejection? He never was the best at being direct when it came to you, and now it was all backfiring on him. Despite his age and his experiences, he still found himself acting like some young teenager around you.

"For that, I apologize again. I should have been more transparent about my intentions, then," he said, a feeling of embarrassment creeping up on him that he tried to suppress. One thing still didn't make sense to him, and he wanted to address it while his wits were about him. "I do have to ask, have you not seen.. any of our outings as dates? Including the ballet?"

"Well… no, you never seemed to use that word and I thought maybe you were just being nice." Heat was filling the entirety of your face, your voice shrinking in on itself as you responded. Your feet had never felt so restless before, eager to run you straight out of the room.

Lucifer couldn't help it as his eyebrows quirked up. "Even when I brought you the bracelet and the roses?"

"N-no."

You never wanted to crawl into a hole more than you did now, especially as you heard a deep sigh across from you. You couldn’t even look at him.

"This will be the last of it that I bring up, and then I won't bother you anymore, but… was there a reason you didn't see them as dates? Were they not to your liking? Or perhaps… it’s me you don’t like?”

Your head was shaking before you knew it, vehement denial on your face, and your gaze snapped back to his.

“No, that’s not— I was just nervous!” you exclaimed. “The dates were fine, honestly! I actually really liked them!”

“So then why–”

“Because you’re hot, okay?!” you blurted out, the words now rushing out of you like a dam burst open. “I haven’t been asked on a date in years, so I got nervous, and I’ve been pranked before, and I didn’t want to get my hopes up and get hurt again or make things weird with you–” You realized too late you were rambling, your mouth snapping shut as you realized in horror what exactly you were saying, but there it was. All you could do now was wait on a response.

Lucifer couldn’t help it, a burst of pride erupted in his chest that you thought he was hot, and he had to stop himself from smiling like an idiot. More importantly, he caught the other part of your ramble. His protective side rose up immediately, angry at the thought that others deliberately tricked you with something so shallow, hurting you to the point that you had to doubt yourself and others on their true feelings. No one deserved such treatment, and he couldn’t help how defensive he got when it came to you.

He tentatively took a step forward and, not seeing you prepared to run, slowly drew closer to you.

“I’m sorry that people have been so awful to you in the past,” he said. “The people that did that were undeserving of your attention and your affections, I hope you know that. It was cruel what they did to you, and you never deserved that.”

You could feel your eyes start to burn, vision blurring slightly, but you fought the urge to cry in order to listen to him. The rational part of your brain knew he was right, knew that you hadn’t done anything to warrant being used and mocked like that. But your anxiety still ate at you, used those experiences to sour your expectations.

He took your hand, and when you didn’t take it back, his heart thrilled a little. What he was planning was a gamble, but he hoped it would be worth it as he took a deep breath and continued speaking. “Words cannot describe the influence you’ve had on my life since I’ve met you. You’ve had an incredible impact on my brothers and myself, helping us reconnect in a way that I feared was lost long ago. You've been reckless and fearless in your decisions, to the point that I’ve worried about your sanity.” His lips curved up when you pouted at him. “But that same recklessness and fearlessness may be what saved my family, and saved me. I don't think I will ever meet another human that affects me the way you do."

He gave you a moment to absorb his words, watching the gears turning in your head.

"I can understand now why you've had reason to doubt me," Lucifer continued. "But I promise to you that everything I have done, and everything I feel, is sincere. I will do whatever it takes to assure you of that."

"I-I believe you," you replied meekly. Your hand felt warm in his, but the presence was comforting. Maybe, just maybe, you could afford yourself this vulnerability. Lucifer's thumb began to rub across your knuckles, slowly at first, like he wasn't sure, but continued as you watched.

Lucifer couldn't help but smile, seeing you come around. He wasn't sure what he would have done if you'd run from him again, if his pride could have taken that, but now that he had you, he needed to seal the deal in the hopes that you'd stay for good. As he rubbed soft circles in your skin, he began the final move to secure you, just a few steps to take, really, but massive in scale, his racing heartbeat waiting to expose just how nervous he was.

The first step.

"Do you remember the number of roses I had brought you the other night?" he asked.

The question caught you off guard, the number of roses? You thought for a moment.

“Um. You brought me three of them, I think?” Lucifer smiled immediately, pleased about that. “Why?”

The second step.

Lucifer drew your hand up to his lips, pressing a single soft kiss to your fingers now. The action caused heat to spread in your chest, and you struggled to avoid staring at his lips as you anticipated another kiss, already distracted from the question you had asked.

“Do you know what three roses means, in the language of flowers?” he asked.

You couldn’t muster any words, simply shaking your head in response.

This time, a soft kiss pressed to the top of your hand, raising goosebumps on your arm. Lucifer’s eyes met yours, and the warmth and love in them took your breath away.

The third step.

“It means, ‘I love you’.”

“...Oh.”

The sound left your mouth before you could stop it, wobblier than you’d like. Those three powerful words sent goosebumps all throughout your body, your eyes widening and your mind going blank. Your brain was too busy short-circuiting to respond appropriately, your words temporarily lost to you. But Lucifer was okay with waiting for you to recover; he’d always wait for you.

His next kiss fell over your wrist before he leaned up, leveling himself with you. One of his hands holding yours intertwined with your fingers, and his other hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking the skin gently.

The final step.

"May I ask if you return my feelings?"

You couldn't catch your breath, simply nodding your answer before realizing the poor demon was owed a better response than that.

“I do. I love you, too,” you replied, a grin working its way onto your face.

You wish your voice wasn’t so weak as you said it, but it made Lucifer smile regardless, a relieved sigh escaping him as his eyes briefly shut. The demon wasn’t even aware of the tension in his body up until that moment, and his shoulders relaxed, feeling like a weight had left him. He opened his eyes again to look at you once more.

“Now that we are, perhaps, on the same page, would it be alright if I kissed you?”

This time, a nod was suitable. Lucifer leaned forward, but hesitated just a moment before his lips could touch yours. Although your earlier rejection had been cleared up, hell you’d even accepted and returned his feelings, Lucifer’s wounded pride was still healing and making him second guess things. And you knew this, knew this mix-up was mostly your fault. And if you didn’t get to kiss Lucifer now, you’d always regret it.

You closed the gap before your anxiety could tell you to do otherwise and pressed your lips to his. Butterflies erupted in your stomach, but you stayed strong and were quickly rewarded as Lucifer relaxed against you and leaned into the kiss. After a moment, you prepared to pull away, but clearly your new lover's hesitation was gone as he pulled you back in, deepening the kiss and setting a fire in your belly. If you could have melted in his arms, you would have.

When Lucifer was finally finished with you– only because you really needed to breathe– your legs felt like jello, making you hold onto his body for support, and you couldn't help the giggle that came out. A product of your nerves, you supposed. But your sweet demon didn't mind, supporting you in his arms for as long as you needed. If the soft blush on his cheeks was any indication, he was much in the same position as you, anyway.

One of your hands was still in his, Lucifer’s fingers rubbing over your knuckles again softly. It was almost like he was memorizing the feel of your skin on his, as if he was afraid it would leave, before he stopped and looked at you. Never in a hundred years did you think you'd be here, in the arms of a demon and so deeply in love. Funny how life works.

“So, you think I’m hot, do you?”

Lucifer's question broke the comfortable silence, the demon watching you with a smirk on his face like the cat that got the cream. You clicked your teeth at him, pouting. Of course he’d pick up on that part of your panicked explanation.

“I knew I shouldn’t have said that,” you said, your face burning in embarrassment. Warm fingers gently took your jaw, tilting your head up to face Lucifer.

"Don’t be like that. I'm always happy to hear your honest opinion, my darling," he said, the pet name not helping your racing heart, and especially not the quick kiss he pressed to your lips as he held you there.

“I’m going back to bed if you’re just going to tease me,” you joked, starting to pull away. Truthfully, you were also a little unprepared for just how much sweeter Lucifer was being, the way he looked at you and casually slipping in a pet name being a fatal combination on your mental health. Bedtime seemed a good enough excuse to give your heart a little time to recuperate. But before you could make much progress, strong arms suddenly wrapped around you from behind, keeping you captive once more, and it was impossible to suppress the shiver in your body as warm breath touched the edge of your ear.

“Oh, love, you’re sorely mistaken if you think I’m letting you go anytime soon.”

You’re not sure your heart could take much more.

As always, reblogs and comments are appreciated! 💜

#lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer #obey me shall we date #fem reader #obey me fanfic #the minx can write ✍️#cant believe this became 5000 words wth

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honey-beann · 1 year

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Bro please can I get “I broke the lock. You were screaming” with nines and our little detective? I don’t really have much of an idea for a story… maybe a case gone wrong and nines insists on staying with her because she’s clearly shaken?!? Idk I love your writing it’s def one of the things I look forward to on my feed <3

Okay SO first things first thank you, Anon, for your super kind words!! You are the sweetest <3

Secondly, I took the liberty of assuming based on the descriptor of "our little detective" that you're talking about the reader from Ruiner, Ruination, so I wrote this fic within that universe (which i hope is alright).

This idea led me to the creation of an offshoot series stemming from Ruiner, Ruination, which I have titled Ruiner, Ruination - Indictus. The point of this series is to highlight little canonical moments that have occurred between Nines and the Reader that went unsaid in the main series (hence the name Indictus, meaning "unsaid").

The creation of this series is super exciting for me because it allows me to write out requests in the Ruiner, Ruination universe AND make them canon without it being too confusing or weird to map out, since I can simply say where each fic takes place in the timeline as things are planned out and published in the original fic.

Anyways, sorry for the rant on the new series, but I hope you enjoy this fic and any upcoming Ruiner, Ruination - Indictus pieces that follow!

Avoidance Tactics (rk900 x reader)

A Ruiner, Ruination - Indictus chapter

Timeline - This fic has a lot to do with the events of the 7th Ruiner, Ruination chapter and takes place after the (currently unpublished, oops) 8th chapter.

Nightmares/sleeping dialogue prompt #2 - "I broke the lock. You were screaming"

Word Count: 3,586

"Could you hover a little bit less ominously? You're really creeping me out."

You muttered under your breath as you passed a wandering gaze over the incident report you had spent the past few hours filling out. Once you were done, you would finally be finished with the process of submitting Nines' work related injury to the DPD's HR department, which you were eager to be done with for good.

It had been two days since your partner's accident, and you had spent nearly every waking hour since avoiding the subject as much as possible by working yourself to the bone.

The unfortunate downside of this was that just 48 hours later there was nothing left for you to do but file away the very incident report you'd been avoiding, and honestly, that had been just as awful as you'd feared it would be.

It required you to go into immense detail pertaining to not only Nines' injuries, but also his reactions to them, the lethality of them, and the traumatic responses that may have occurred as a result of them.

Gavin had filled out his end of the form on the day of the injury back at the DPD with you, and now it was your turn to fill out the individual portion.

And to an extent you hadn't truly expected, the memories were haunting.

Your hands had shaken vigorously above the keyboard as you'd typed out the amount of blue blood that you had gotten on yourself in the process of stopping the bleeding,

the stickiness that lingered between your fingers for hours afterward,

the way it had remained spattered on your clothing even when you could no longer see it,

the scent of it and the way it had stuck to you until multiple showers later.

You had bit back tears when recalling the staticky quality to Nines' voice as his vocal modulator had struggled without the support of his circulatory regulator,

the slightly glazed quality of his eyes,

the way he had groaned in pain as they loaded him into the android care ambulance,

and the trail of blood he had left behind in the process.

It had all been so awful.

And the extent of his injuries had been no small issue either.

Without his stock circulatory bio-component, Nines' thirium pump regulator, and therefore his thirium pump as well, had been put under unnecessary strain for days now, unnecessary strain that would doubtlessly cause a machine like him to falter and shut down sooner than he ever would have otherwise.

And somehow, it was this fact that terrified you the most.

Sure, you had always known that Nines would outlive you,

that fact had never once bothered you,

but the idea that his likely absurdly long life would be cut short, even slightly, by this accident?

It unsettled you that such a thing was even possible.

Years off of the life of a thing that some didn't even view as living at all.

The humanity of it all struck you in the very worst way,

But fortunately you wouldn't really have to dwell on that for long.

"I am not hovering, Detective."

Nines replied coolly from where he stood beside the entryway of his dining room, where you had been sitting for hours as you worked tirelessly to write up your incident report.

"I am simply analyzing you to discern whether or not you are still capable of writing your report in a manner that will meet the Captain's standards."

You rolled your eyes,

"Well that really doesn't matter now, because I just submitted it."

Nines gave a low hum in response, but neglected to say anything more.

You were right though, he had most definitely been hovering, and for quite some time, at that.

He had started making his way throughout the apartment around the time you'd started your write up, and had been careful to ensure that he never stuck around you for too long as he performed his scans, which allowed him to discern whether or not your actions were causing you any emotional strain.

And every time that he had scanned you, the results always came back the same: judging by the amount of cortisol present in your bloodstream, the report was almost assuredly bringing back traumas you were not yet ready to unpack.

And yet, try as he might to think of something he could do, Nines had yet to come up with a single solution.

He was resigned to let you finish, and then, maybe, he might just get you to talk about what was bothering you.

Except now, as you looked over at him for the first time in hours, he could see how exhausted you were, and pushed the thought out of his mind.

It was time to get you to bed.

"Would you like to stay the night, Detective? The spare tooth brush you utilized the other evening is still in the bathroom, and I believe you packed an extra work outfit in your trunk after last time."

You glanced towards your partner quizzically, raising a brow as you closed your laptop,

"Seriously? I thought for sure you'd want me out of your hair by now."

Nines shrugged a bit at your statement before he moved to plug your computer in on the counter where the cord was located, just out of your reach.

"I have no qualms with you sleeping here if it would be easier. It is not as if I require the use of my bed for any particular purpose."

You gave a small laugh at that, but Nines was quick to note that it didn't reach your eyes, despite the distinctive lack of sarcasm found within it.

Your mannerisms were certainly concerning, but he tried not to over analyze for the time being.

You spoke up,

"Yeah, I guess not huh? In that case, if it doesn't bother you I think I might as well just stay over again. It'll give me a little extra sleep, which I could really use right now."

Nines gave a brief nod in response before heading into his bedroom at the end of the hall,

"Alright, in that case I should find you something to wear to sleep for the night. Any preferences?"

Your cheeks were dusted a slight pink as you spoke, and Nines noticed a sudden increase in your body temperature as well, but even so he chose to ignore it in favor of paying more attention to your response instead,

"Uh, I didn't mind the shirt you gave me the other night? If its clean?"

Nines hummed and retreated to the bedroom without another word, leaving you to make your way to the bathroom to get yourself ready.

You sighed as you stared at your face in the mirror, taking note of your haggard and saddened appearance.

God, that report had taken a lot out of you.

Forcing yourself to give a brief smile, you squeezed some tooth paste out onto your tooth brush before beginning the familiar motions that went along with brushing your teeth as you waited for Nines to return.

To your surprise though, by the time you were finished, your partner still had yet to come back from his detour at the end of the hall, so curiously, you opened the bathroom door, only to shriek in surprise when you saw that Nines was standing on the other side, that familiar shirt of his that you had worn the other night in hand.

You placed your palm against your chest as you took a few deep breaths to calm yourself down, shooting your partner a wordless glare as you did so.

"My apologies, Detective, I didn't mean to scare you."

You groaned and rolled your eyes before ultimately choosing to forgive the man in front of you, offering a gentle thanks as you took the shirt from him and re-entered the bathroom, closing the door behind you once more.

You took another deep breath as you looked back into the mirror, the scent of Nines' shirt wafting into your nose as you did so. You were a bit surprised to find that this was oddly soothing, and elected to ignore the comfort that warmed you as a result of it.

Afterward, you told yourself that you just happened to require a rather deep inhale at the very same moment that you were pulling the white undershirt over your head.

You glanced over at yourself in the mirror, legs bare and hair mussed from changing your shirt, and let out a soft sigh as you ran the pad of your pointer finger over the dark circles beneath your eyes.

It was definitely time for bed.

So, with that idea in mind, you placed your hand on the cold doorknob, letting it absorb some of the heat from your palm for a while as you basked in all of the external stimuli that surrounded you, grateful for the proof that the world around you was real at all.

And then, quietly, as if afraid you might be frightened once again, you pulled the bathroom door open, allowing yourself the time to glance up and down either end of the hall before making your way over to the door found at the very end of it, which remained cracked as an invitation for you to enter.

Nines looked up at you in greeting as you pulled the door open further, closing the door to his closet before he made his way over to the bed you were now working to climb on top of, his foot steps quiet and lithe behind you before they halted at the foot of his queen sized bed, which was fitted with the same huge black comforter as last time.

You glanced up at him as you laid your back against the soft pillows found at the head of the bed, struggling to make eye contact as you tried not to think too hard about the comfort his scent had offered you previously.

God, what a weird thing to think about your partner. Maybe you should buy him a cologne so he smelled different or something.

You shook off your thought as Nines brushed imaginary lint from the blanket you were now comfortably laying beneath as he finally spoke,

"Is there anything else you need, Detective?"

He watched you intently as you shook your head, and gave you a few moments afterward to change your mind before he finally started turning around to head back out the door.

"In that case, I'll just be out in the living area. I will remain in light stasis so you won't have to worry about me being hard to wake up if you find that there is something you require my assistance for. I will also be locking the door, as my research has supported that this will help you feel safer. Is that all agreeable with you, Detective?"

You were a bit taken aback by the sudden influx of information, but nodded nonetheless after allowing yourself a few seconds to comprehend what was being said to you,

"Oh uh sure, yeah, that's fine, whatever you want."

Nines gave a slight nod in response before clicking the lock in place, taking a step over to the other side of the door frame before he turned back to look you over once more, his eyes traversing your frame slowly as he did so,

"Sleep well, Little Mouse. I will see you in the morning."

And with that, he was closing the door behind him before you could say a word, leaving you with nothing left to do but drift off to sleep.

And drift off to sleep you did, though it was far from the peaceful slumber you had anticipated.

You fought back a cry of pure anguish as you watched the android, the same AV500 model from the abandoned car factory, shoot Nines for the fifth time that night, this time right between his eyes.

Your partner fell back soundlessly, his body hitting the ground with enough force to make the floor shake as he stared up at you with those unseeing gray-blue eyes of his.

They were so haunting like this, when you could tell they were observing nothing despite their unnatural openness, and you forced yourself to reach over the close them in spite of the blue blood that coated your fingers as you did so.

It was sticky and warm, just as it had been every other time he'd been shot within this hellish nightmare, and you had to stop yourself from vomiting as everything started all over again.

Here you were, for the sixth time, standing in that same room with that same murderous android, and once again, there was nothing you could do to stop him from killing your partner.

You couldn't plead for mercy, tackle the man to the ground, or even shoot him with the gun Nines had provided you with. You had no choice but to simply stand there and watch as he gunned down your partner, your friend again and again.

It was torturous.

And this time, as he shot Nines right in his thirium pump, and you saw that pained and confused look on his face for the sixth time that evening, you couldn't help yourself.

You screamed.

You screamed out of fear, out of frustration, and above all else, out of grief.

Here in this nightmare, you couldn't even tell what was real anymore, and with each passing murder, you could swear that Nines had really died back at that factory, and that this reality, where you simply had to watch and suffer wordlessly, was the real one.

You screamed for so long your throat hurt even within your own dream, raw and painful as you prayed internally for this torture to end, eyes squeezed shut and brimming with tears as you heard distant gunshot after distant gunshot go off before hitting thick plastic over and over again.

You would never be able to forget that sound.

But then, even more distantly than those gunshots, came the sound of Nines' voice, far off and calling out to you as if he were searching aimlessly while alone in the dark.

And without a second thought, you called back.

You awoke gasping for air, throat aching tremendously, and eyes stinging both from your tears and from the much too bright light coming from the lamp to the left of you.

But none of that was nearly as noticeable as the android who was hovering above your form as you laid on your back, his arms poised on either side of your head as he looked down at you with an almost fearful look on his face.

"What the- Nines?"

You croaked out in confusion, glancing over at the previously locked bedroom door as you attempted to make sense about what was going on.

“I broke the lock. You were screaming”

Nines all but panted out, eyes still a bit wild as he slowly began to pull away from the bed, standing at the edge as if afraid you would start screaming all over again the moment he moved.

You squinted your eyes in confusion and in an effort to mitigate the impact the lights were having on your head,

As if he could read your mind, Nines reached over the turned the lamp off without a word.

You sighed softly, noting the way that the air barely managed to leave your mouth due to how shaky you were feeling.

That nightmare had to have been one of the worst you'd ever had.

And the worst part yet? It wasn't going away.

You could still hear the sound of a single strong bullet hitting thick hard plastic, and you could feel the splash of warm thirium against your skin as a result.

It was horrible.

Tears filled your vision as you sat up slightly, bringing your knees to your chest as you tried to make sense of what was going on.

Why couldn't you stop thinking about it? Why were you torturing yourself like this?

You were just about to ask Nines what was wrong with you when he spoke up first,

"May I see your hand, Detective?"

He asked not unkindly, and hesitantly, as if afraid this could somehow go awry, you gave it to him.

You then watched in the dim lighting of the bedroom as your partner raised your hand up to where his thirium pump worked tirelessly within his chest, pumping in a manner that you could feel as it did so.

"I am alive."

He murmured softly, and you briefly wondered how he had known what was bothering you without you saying a word before you simply let it go and pressed your hand harder against the area below his sternum, feeling the evidence of his existence thump strongly against your palm and the pads of your fingers.

You looked up at him then, tears pooling in your eyes and spilling down your cheeks, and asked him for something you had never once expected to throughout the entire duration of your partnership,

"Nines, can you lay here with me?"

You murmured, watching as the android briefly contemplated your request before nodding once in compliance.

The bed dipped slightly as Nines dropped his knee on to the mattress before climbing the rest of the way over to the empty spot beside you, where he sat a bit awkwardly as he awaited your next request.

None of this was familiar to him in the slightest, and no matter how hard he tried, he could not figure out what you might want from him.

You sighed in slight relief as you laid yourself back down, noting the way that Nines watched as you did so before slowly doing the same, his head propped up by the pillows as he laid his palms face down on the mattress at either side of him.

He was very clearly not used to laying down, but you almost found it endearing that he remained so stiff even when in a position that was meant to be relaxing.

How very Nines of him.

Giving a gentle sigh, you turned your body on its side in order to better face your partner, who immediately shifted his gaze towards your own as you spoke, your hand raised ever so slightly towards him as you did so,

"Would you... Do you mind if I feel it again?"

Your cheeks burned as you considered your own request, but before you could back out, Nines shook his head before expressing his response verbally to reassure you,

"Not at all, Detective. I have no issues with you touching me if that is what you require."

You couldn't help but clear your throat upon hearing his words, but slowly lowered your hand onto his chest anyway, feeling yourself relax a bit as you once again felt his thirium pump beat strongly against your palm.

"Does it help you to know that I am well?"

Nines murmured, giving a low hum of interest as you nodded in response.

The room was silent for a few moments before he spoke up again, his voice quiet despite the silence of the room around you.

"I did not realize you had been so deeply impacted by my injuries. I apologize for my ignorance."

You were quick to shake your head upon hearing his words, and raised yourself up onto your forearms to better address him as you spoke,

"Don't apologize. I didn't realize either... I think I was just hoping to ignore it until it went away on its own."

Nines didn't reply, but instead gave a gentle hum of acknowledgment as he further considered your words.

You, on the other hand, took the silence as your queue to try and get back to sleep, something you were more than a little bit eager for after your night of terror and exhaustion.

Even still, you found yourself struggling to drift off, despite the added comfort of Nines' thirium pump as it beat steadily beneath your palm.

And after waiting and waiting for sleep to overtake you for what felt like far too long, you sat up on your knees and faced your partner in the darkness, your cheeks tinted pink as you made your second humiliating request of the night.

"I uh I can't sleep. Can I try something?"

Nines gave a small nod of approval, curiosity evident in his tone as he replied,

"I don't see why not, Little Mouse."

You felt your heart skip a beat at the familiar nickname, and swallowed thickly as you pulled yourself closer to your partner, letting out a nervous sigh as you lowered your torso back down onto the mattress, straightening out your legs beneath you as you let your head fall to Nines' chest, where the sound of his thirium pump working tirelessly within immediately filled your ears.

And with that, even more so than before, you found that your body grew relaxed, your eyes becoming heavy as you allowed your newfound comfort to will you to sleep once more.

Nines remained silent all the while, but watched you as you slowly drifted off to sleep with your head lying atop his chest, soothed by the sound of his artificial heart as he relished in the knowledge of your safety and comfort, even within a presence as dangerous and cold as his own.

AO3 Link

#s: ruiner ruination #s: ruiner ruination - indictus #c: nines #rk900 x reader #dbh x reader #request #prompt requests

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youhavehitawall · 3 months

Note

Didn’t want to spam your ask box, but I realized I was forgetting what I wanted to ask so here it is, maybe. Some of it might’ve been lost.

You mentioned at one point that Ratchet had mobility issues, but not what they were exactly.

Ratchet and Reg are battling to be my favorite, Austin is too similar to me to be my favorite unfortunately.

I can’t help but what to meddle with stories I really like, for instance I want to be a bit of a stalker and send Firestorm a picture of Ratchet in Backwater Downs, maybe with a clue on the back. I feel like that’s a fun idea to mess around with.

Most of Ratchet's mobility issues are in the parts of him that self-repaired instead of being fixed by a mechanic. His Plymouth Fury heritage gives him advanced self-repair, which is what kept him alive (that, and the roll-cage) during and after his crash. The mechanic that fixed him was hesitant to undo the self-repair's work since Ratchet was so precarious. The mechanic also did a lot of jury-rigging work, as Plymouths are a rarity in Australia. Now, his biggest issue is, his parking brake is useless. He can't do big hill starts anymore. Reg often drives behind him so that, if he gets stuck on a hill, he can roll back into Reg and do a normal hillstart. He also slips near cliffs or on beaches, and will roll if he falls asleep on an uneven surface. He can also be physically pushed around even with his brakes on. His left side axles were crimped in the crash and he can't go full lock to the left anymore. He also struggles with offroading, anything more than a dirt track is very difficult for him. He can't race on dirt at all anymore as it puts too much stress on his chassis. His A, B, and C pillars are all dented and were hammered and self-repaired into shape. His eyesight is much poorer than it used to be, and his muteness comes from the same damage. His brain simply can't connect the words and the sounds anymore. The front of his chassis rails are permanently twisted inwards which can feel uncomfortable for him, especially when he's turning hard - again, no offroading. His tailfins are not quite symmetrical anymore and it throws him off his line at high speeds and makes him stray to the right. His headlights also don't work 100% of the time, and his highbeams flicker terribly. The wiring is fucked.

His jaw clicks when he chews. This isn't a mobility issue but it didn't do that before the crash.

Austin I feel like doesn't get the full rep he deserves on here. It's very difficult for me to pack his entire character into a little comic because he has so SO much character. He is motivated by rage for decades and it twists him up inside. He's angry and bitter and anxious and horny and that's his 'good day'. He loves the dead and used to steal parts from graves and upgrade himself without anaesthetic. There is something deeply deeply wrong with him. He's absolutely my favourite because he is so fucked up but he's also so kind and loyal all the time. He would do anything for his friends and partners at the drop of a hat. But he also 100% is waiting for Reg to drop dead so he can take that delicious V10 for himself. And I do mean delicious. Which is to say just remember the version of him you see here is PG rated.

Realistically, Firestorm would never believe a picture of Ratchet (known to him as Ricochet) if he got one. Firestorm's business is perfectly legitimate, but he's not above running illegal stock behind the scenes. His association with Rundown also makes him a lot of enemies even in the criminal underbelly. Rundown has very few allies. So a picture of Ricochet, he'd just take that as an enemies' baiting attempt, albeit one in poor taste. It doesn't matter that the Fury in the photo has Ricochet's funny little twitch in his smile. Doesn't matter that he has matching warbles in his left fender, just like Ricochet had, from Firestorm's first attempt at panelbeating. Doesn't even matter that there's a red-eyed ragtop Hornet in the background, a model of car nearly impossible to find, who has Austin's missing tooth. Firestorm would never take the bait. He might store the photo away and he might lie awake at night, wondering about it, wishing desperately he was younger and more naive and stupid enough to pursue it. But he won't risk his family or his life. He has to make a decision, between chasing ghosts and raising his kids, and as much as it pains him he lets the photo sit in the dark album and gather dust with all the others.

BUT let's play in this for a second. Assuming there's a way to make Firestorm believe this isn't doctored, well, it doesn't matter that Backwater Downs is not even a town name, isn't even on the map. Doesn't matter that Ricochet has been missing for sixty years. Within a month of getting that photo, Firestorm is landing in Darwin International Airport. He storms out, buys a drum of water and drives south into the great flat lands.

Firestorm finding Ricochet is probably the worst way for them to reunite, because it makes Firestorm so incredibly, extremely angry. Sixty years and Ratchet never tried to reach out. Firestorm is so sick and tired of trying to hold his sibs together and he's sick of being forced to watch them drift away, and DIE, from apathy or petty arguments. Also in this timeline, Ratchet feels obliged to explain that he left because Robyn tried to kill him - shot him and everything. That would turn the whole situation into a disaster. The happier versions are when Ratchet comes back to America and reunites with Firestorm. He never reveals Robyn's crime, and he even allows Robyn to apologise to him, though he doesn't forgive her. She did a lot of damage, even if she hadn't meant it maliciously. And Firestorm is so happy to have Ricochet back home, he chooses to gloss over that yawning gap of "why didnt you call or text or write or fax or come home or-" that plays in his head constantly.

Fun fact, when Ratchet reunites with Firestorm, poor Rico gets a "Jr" tacked onto his name. Firestorm called him Junior on occasion, but thisis the first time Rico has to confront the fact he was named after someone that his dad missed dearly. And he hates being a Jr. He immediately tries to race Ratchet for his honour back and he gets his ass kicked. Ratchet then takes him out for beers and ice-cream and Rico Jr decides he has the best uncle in the whole world.

#cars pixar #pixar cars #food for thought #backwater downs #yeah this one got out of hand and it took a long time bc i had to think #ty for the ask i love talking abt these guys

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xocasper · 2 years

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Come On Angel, Don’t You Cry

Pairing: Gerard Way x Reader Summary: Kinktober Day Eleven - Mommy Kink Warnings: NSFW content Tags: mommy kink, dacryphilia, hurt/comfort, frottage, breast play, praise kink, sub!gerard Word Count: 3431 A/N: We have nearly reached the end of my stock for kinktober. At least there are only five days left! I’ll miss doing this, it’s been a lot of fun. This was a little new to me, but I hope you guys enjoy!

Gerard was certain that today was the worst day ever.

He hated his stupid job at Cartoon Network. He hated his boss, and at least half of his coworkers. He hated that the restroom in his department was always out of order and that he was always the one reporting it. Typically, he put up with it. Fake smiles and awkward silences kept him out of disagreements, ignoring every half-hearted apology and simply waving them off for a chance to cool down. It was annoying, but he could live with it for a few more weeks, convincing himself that this was a good thing; if he worked harder than the rest of his coworkers, he’d surely land himself a promotion, right?

Unfortunately, his logic was flawed, despite his manager’s praise. With every hint and insinuation, Gerard was sure he’d land himself a new position. There was no reason for his boss to dangle it in front of him, so he picked up speed, working himself to the bone until the end of the month. It was exhausting, but it would certainly pay off, anxiety swelling in his chest as he showed up to work today. Every hour seemed to drag on, anticipation eating away at him as he sat at his desk, hardly able to focus with the prospect of a promotion in mind. Then came the end of the day, and the weight of disappointment crashed down on him.

Nepotism had swiped the promotion from him, watching as his boss’ nephew proudly announced his new position. It was fucking infuriating, and he hardly had enough control to wrap up his work. The same asshole who spent his shifts slacking off, intentionally emptying the coffee pot before Gerard could refill his cup, was now his boss. Despite spending the rest of his shift in rage, it had soon twisted into sorrow, and he wanted nothing more than to lay down and cry. As overwhelming as it was, he had to get home, swallowing the lump in his throat and flooring it to his flat.

Tears welled in his eyes as he drove, biting his lip until it grew dark and puffy. Through his blurry vision, he could faintly see rain starting to pour, adding to his impairment, and depressing him even more. Gerard couldn’t cry though, not over something so trivial, whether it was of woe or frustration. His anger had dissipated, for the most part, projected onto his steering wheel as his knuckles blanched, strangling the faux leather. It wasn’t necessarily wise to take it out on a beat-up car, but he had no outlet until he got home, finally gaining the motivation to return at the thought of being with you.

You always made things easier, and Gerard was endlessly grateful for your love and support. On days like these, he’d curl up close and cry into your chest, soothed by the slow circles on his back, and the way you combed your hands through his hair. You never made him feel inferior for having emotions, but rather encouraged him to let them out, pressing soft kisses to his cheeks and mumbling sweet praise until he could finally swallow his pride.

That was the funny thing, really—breaking down was rarely caused by the incident that day, but due to your acceptance. It was foreign to be treated with love and respect while in tears over foolish mistakes, Gerard having grown up getting bullied for his sensitivity. He was an adult now and still struggled to outgrow the habit, but you were always waiting with open arms, happy to help him through the dark days.

Now, he was certain he couldn’t hold it in very long, already struggling to pull himself together as he sat at the red light. The streetlights blurred together, vibrant orange flickering in the corner of his eyes, shining against the twilight sky. Hastily, he wiped away a few forming tears, the glow of the stoplight gradually coming into focus until he could make out a definitive shape, illuminated by a striking green.

Thankfully, he pulled into the parking lot unscathed, having had the sense to stay focused on the road, rather than shitty coworkers. It seemed as if the second the engine stopped, the world had crashed down on him, Gerard simply sitting in the driver’s seat with his head against the wheel, searching for a moment to breathe.

A month. A whole fucking month of working harder than any employee in his department, especially the nepotism baby. Thirty-one days of missed sleep and endless stress, all this wasted effort for a position that already belonged to someone else. He almost couldn’t believe that his boss had lied to him, playing dirty for more productivity, but nothing about the department seemed to shock him anymore. For his so-called dream job, it was becoming nothing short of a nightmare.

Taking a deep breath, he swung the car door open, relieved to see that the rain had slowed to a sprinkle. He closed his eyes for a moment, nose pointed towards the sky as small droplets fell on his cheeks, sliding down the contours of his face. Part of him wondered if he could blame his glossy eyes on the rain, but inevitably decided that you’d see through his subpar disguise. That didn’t matter now though, Gerard shaking his head free of water before stepping inside the building, trudging up the stairs in search of solace.

You spotted him almost the moment he walked in, already noticing his distress from your place on the couch. It didn’t take long for you to scramble to your feet, striding over to him with concern as you looked him up and down. He was quite damp, his shoes and jacket already tracking water into the apartment, despite Gerard standing still. His hair was wet and tousled, messily falling over his eyes, which were welling with tears once more.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” you asked, quickly hanging up his jacket to prevent a bigger mess.

He didn’t speak at first, merely taking a shuddered breath while you fought with the coat rack. Instead, he took a step forward, only to be stopped as you gently held him back.

“Careful, you’re tracking water on the floor.”

It wasn’t supposed to be a jab. Hell, your voice was soft as ever, only speaking to keep him from slipping. But when Gerard looked down at his shoes, staring at the dirty footprints he was leaving in the living room, he couldn’t help but shatter.

Flooded with regret, you reached out to him, reluctant in case he wanted to be alone. God, was it the opposite though, relieved as he welcomed your touch, letting you hold him in the doorway. You knew it wasn’t about the shoes or anything you had said; it was something bigger, but the footprints were the last straw.

Gerard was quiet at first, crying silently with his head pressed to your shoulder, his teeth clenched to hold himself together. Only a minute later he was pulling away, kicking his shoes off and wiping his eyes, preparing for another wave. Quiet and broken, he sniffled, followed by a soft, “I’m sorry.”

You shushed him just as gently, wiping the final fallen tears from his cheek. “Do you want to lie down?”

He thought for a moment before nodding, hardly having the energy to move, but you were worth the effort. Rubbing his eyes with one hand, he held yours in the other, squeezing it lightly as you led him to the bedroom. Gerard wanted to speak, but the fear of his voice breaking was too strong, and that wasn’t a risk he was willing to take. You understood, unbothered but his silence as you sat him down on the bed, off to find a change of clothes.

It was times like these when Gerard needed some extra love—it wasn’t a rare occurrence, and you had no issue catering to his needs, scurrying over to the dresser without a second thought. A worn t-shirt and dry sweatpants seemed to be sufficient, gazing at him as he stared at the wall, noticing the slightest quiver of his lip. Before bombarding him with questions, you helped him strip, your heart beating a little faster at the sight of him. Only a moment later, he was covered up with dark fabrics, but he was still as beautiful as ever, even if he called bullshit.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

There was a moment of peace before he nodded his head, and you laid back against the pillows, beckoning him over. Like clockwork, he settled against your chest, taking a breath before beginning.

“I didn’t get the promotion,” he said dejectedly, an evident strain in his voice, followed by another round of tears. “Fucking nepotism.”

There was more and you knew it, but you gave him his space. Gerard probably wouldn’t open up tonight, or even next week. If he wanted to talk, he would, but right now, he needed comfort.

“I’m sorry, baby,” you soothed, stroking his hair as the tears continued to stream. “You still worked hard, and I’m proud of you.”

He let out a soft sob, burying himself into your chest and sliding his hands beneath your shirt, the contact a small act of affection. As long as he made you proud, the promotion didn’t matter. He continued to cry, sniffles and hiccups scattered about, his body relaxing as you rubbed his back. Once he glanced up at you, you could see the state he was in—his cheeks were scarlet and tear-stained, eyes bloodshot and glossy, filled with a sense of desperation. He needed a distraction, an escape. You knew what he was asking for when he looked at you like that, his lip trembling in preparation for pleas.

His doe eyes shined bright, specks of green and gold glowing in the warm bedroom light, but his gaze was laced with subtle shame, too embarrassed to make his request. Luckily, he didn’t need to, eyebrows raising in mild surprise as you pulled your hands away from him, and instead tugged at the hem of your shirt. For the first time, Gerard was glad his cheeks were flushed from crying, excusing the blush that would’ve crept up on him.

Slowly, he moved off your chest, sitting on his knees and scooting forward, wiping away his forming tears in the process. He sat on his legs, wedged between your thighs, watching as you kneeled above him. Every move you made was fluid, bringing his hands to your waist, and guiding them as you rucked up your shirt, now damp with tears. Sniffling, he choked out an apology, almost wishing he hadn’t cried so hard.

“It’s alright, baby,” you promised, slipping your hands out of the sleeves and cradling his face instead.

It was a sweet nickname, Gerard fighting back tears once more at your care. You could see the struggle, stroking his skin as you pressed a delicate kiss to his lips. It was brief, hardly more than a peck, but you let it linger for a moment as he caught his breath. He was still shaking when your lips met again, weak although he strayed farther from hyperventilation. Each kiss was slow and smooth, his hands tentatively trailing up your waist as he learned how to breathe again, the fuzzy vignette gradually fading away. Pulling away for a moment, you slid your hand under his chin, tilting his head to meet his gaze.

“You’re my pretty boy.”

It was said with such sincerity and sealed with a languid kiss, your tongue dipping past his parted lips, met with the faint taste of teardrops. Gerard believed it, a soft whine caught in his throat as you kissed him, radiating pure desperation. Graciously, you pulled away, lips still brushing against his as you gave him a final peck.

He watched you closely as his fingers met your bra clasp, nimbly unfastening it and sliding the straps off your shoulders. Eager as usual, he pressed his palms against your skin, the temperature difference making you shiver. It was almost innocent how he caressed you, tracing the curves of your breasts as he cupped them, staring at you in wonder. He rolled one of your nipples beneath his thumb before leaning down and kitten-licking the other, his eyes fluttering shut as you exhaled. Once more, your hand threaded through his hair, stroking it softly as he busied himself with your breasts.

“Feels good, baby,” you hummed, pressing him closer as he dragged his tongue across your nipple, slowly wrapping his lips around it.

It was therapeutic, in a way. When Gerard grew stressed and found himself cuddling up to you, this was typically how things ended. It was soothing, listening to the soft sounds you made, and going dizzy from your praise. Not to mention how beautiful he thought you were, the mere privilege of being able to touch you filling him with pride and serenity as he pressed wet kisses to your cleavage.

He scattered them across your skin, humming sweetly as he nipped at your chest. Gradually, he traced the tip of his tongue back to your nipple, circling it titillatingly before sucking it into his mouth once more. He moaned softly against you, lapping blissfully as you gave a gentle tug to his hair.

“You like sucking mommy’s tits, baby?”

God, the words were so crass but they sounded so pure when you said them, Gerard pulling away to give a short whine and a quiet, “Yes, mommy.”

He took a short breath before swapping sides, wasting no time latching on, nothing if not needy. With strong hands, he stroked your breasts, his skin warm against yours, making you arch against him as he sucked greedily on your nipple, softly pinching the other. Another moan spilled from your lips, egging him on as he pressed wet kisses to it, flicking his tongue tantalizingly.

Gerard knew better than to tease though, suckling softly instead, mewling at your praise. “You’re such a good boy, huh?”

Briefly, his lashes fluttered open, revealing pretty hazel eyes, swimming with vulnerability. He was so sweet like this, so precious as he responded with a gentle mhm, muffled because he was too busy working to please you.

“My good boy,” you told him, eyes falling shut as your head tipped back.

As you settled into his lap, you could feel his predicted erection, pressing against your thigh while he ignored it. Rather than complaining or quitting, he kept it up, setting his needs aside until yours were fulfilled. His care, his eagerness to please you, to hear every moan and pet name you had to offer was arousing itself, and you ground against him while he sucked alternating kisses onto your nipples.

He grew louder as you rocked your hips against him, moaning and whimpering with half-lidded eyes. You could feel your stomach twisting in familiar knots, lightly pulling Gerard by his hair, causing his lashes to flutter open.

“Are you mommy’s sweet boy?”

He nodded hastily, humming contentedly as you pushed him closer, scratching his scalp lightly as he worked. There was no need to be quiet anymore, his shame having vanished a while ago, Gerard practically mewling as you ground your hips against his. Your composure was crumbling as well, and he reveled in every gasp and moan, wanting nothing more than to make you feel good, embodying every pet name he was given.

“Fuck, that’s it,” you breathed, rolling your hips against his.

The lightest touches triggered pathetic whines, wrecking Gerard with every word. He was falling apart under your gaze, tension and anticipation filling the room as he rutted against you, desperate to get you off first. God, he was going to have to change again, but the thought was buried beneath a million others, all wanton and needy as he zoned in on you.

“Making me feel so good,” you said, trailing off with a soft gasp. “Make mommy proud, alright, baby? Be a good boy and make me come.”

Fuck, did he want to make you proud. To your surprise, he pulled away, saliva smeared across his lips, which faintly skimmed your skin, his breath giving you shivers. Then again, he swapped sides, repeating each action before staying put. His eyes fell shut, moaning and writhing, falling into a rhythm of lips and tongue, hips and friction. When your voice lost its steadiness, he could tell you were close, blinking up at you to watch your high. Simultaneously, you glanced down, spotting the fucking sight of him.

Gerard was always beautiful, but this was incomparable—his eyes hadn’t lost their red hue, still glossy with the illusion of tears, wide-eyed and staring up at you with sheer vulnerability. His lips were red and swollen, slick as they licked and sucked on your nipples, striving for pride and pleasure. You weren’t sure if his cheeks were still flushed from crying, or if he was flustered, but either was working wonders, Gerard looking ever so pretty in pink. His hands rested under your curves, thumbs working against you while he gripped you needily, desperate and aching for you. And god, his fucking position, head tilted up as he gazed at you, awestruck and enamored, your hand tugging his hair to keep his eyes on yours.

On one hand, Gerard was driven by a need to succeed, to prove and validate himself after taking such a hit at work. It was a foolproof tactic, his confidence revived at the sight of you, every sound and sweet touch giving him a familiar rush. Whether he was lulling himself to sleep with his lips wrapped around plush skin, or working his tongue with a motive in hopes of earning an orgasm, there was no place he’d rather be. On the other, he couldn’t get enough of you, seeking comfort in the form of tenderness and vulnerability. At first, it embarrassed him, burning up and growing nauseous when you asked why he lingered so long on your chest, even though you were gentle and earnest. By now, it was routine, stressful days always leading to his head on your chest, wanting nothing more than consolation from his mommy.

“Mhm, fuck,” you murmured, struggling to find words as Gerard rutted against you desperately. The wanton friction and the sound of him moaning against your skin was overwhelming, Gerard listening attentively as your breathing tapered off. Reluctantly, his hands slid from your breasts to your waist, tugging you flush against him as he ground against you. Lifting his head from your chest, he watched wide-eyed as your head lolled back, lashes fluttering shut as your lips parted.

Quiet and almost ashamed, Gerard let out a small plea. “Please,” he mumbled, brows drawing together and teeth catching his bottom lip, trying feebly to hold off an orgasm. “Please, mommy, please let me come.”

Gerard nearly beat himself up for his impatience, but the desperate crack in his voice ceased the tension in your stomach, coming undone while he continued to roll his hips. With your hand still resting at the base of his neck, you pulled him in close, connecting your lips in a passionate kiss. It was quick and sloppy, another plea on the tip of Gerard’s tongue as he pulled away. His nose grazed yours, lips brushing together as the pad of your finger trailed down his jaw, tilting his chin up.

“Fuck, come for me, come for mommy,” you instructed, still reeling as he let out a small cry, coming over lewd words and friction.

It was a moment of fucking peace, sheer bliss that wiped his memory clean of his troubles. Gradually, his hips came to stop, wrapping his arms around you instead as you leaned back against the headboard, still running a hand through his hair. His vision had cleared, and his cheeks faded back into their natural tone, though it wasn’t for long.

“How about a shower?” you suggested, eyes flicking between your legs and his, equally clad in sweatpants.

Despite the chastity in your tone, he knew better than to fall for your facade. Sure enough, Gerard caught your sly smile as he nodded, his infamous blush returning for curtain call. The way you wiggled out of his lap was far less subtle, undoubtedly implying another round. After a day like this, he was sure he could use it, eagerly following you down the hall as his grievances turned to dust. Maybe today wasn’t so bad after all.

kinktober taglist: @clichedlovers @halloweenbitch2764 @lubbockshusband @cigarettesandalcohols @couldbegayer1234 @doc-martens-enthusiast @yachiiko @becausethedrugsneverwork @enchantinghouseofwh0res @dangerouslittlefairy @chronicallythicc @zggystrdst @partypoisonzz @blueouid

#gerard way x reader #gerard way smut #mcr x reader #mcr smut

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sassykattery · 2 years

Text

Celebrations of the Heart, Pt. 2

Welcome back to part 2. As I stated before, I will be doing three uploads a week for this chapter! I will still upload on the usual Wednesday/Saturday [Thursday/Sunday for further eastern time zones] schedule, but also a random day of my choosing! Enjoy!

CW: MC is afab, uses she/her pronouns. MC is a demon and poly. *Smut scene: quickie. f! receiving penetration, piv. Creampie.* Barbatos refers to MC as "Mistress" as a formality and does so sporadically throughout the series.

Themes: Romance. Mental health. Makeup sex. DiavoloxMC. LuciferxMC.

Characters: MC="you", Barbatos, Diavolo, Lucifer

Minors and ageless blogs DNI

18+ only

Masterlist

Enjoy~

"Ah, mistress, thank you for doing this for me. I greatly appreciate your help. Could I brew some Hell Rose tea as thanks? Or I could make you a treat if you'd prefer," Barbatos said, smiling at you after seeing the fully stocked pantry and fridge.

"I'll take some tea, and it's no problem. Anything for you," you replied softly. "I'll be in my suite," you added.

After settling in your room, you pulled out your notepad, turning to your law research. You stared at the two questions, considering everything that had transpired over the last few days between your vacation and returning home, and then thinking about what Solomon said.

It was truly unfair of me to say that, you thought. I enjoy being a demon, and I don't regret giving up my soul. Solomon's right, I put too much pressure on myself.

Putting your notepad back in the desk drawer, you pulled out your finances book, feeling a new vigor in your studies.

But it didn't take long for you to be interrupted.

"MC?" Diavolo called, knocking on your door.

"Come in," you replied.

Diavolo walked in, seeing you at your desk. "Ah, perfect, there's something I'd like to discuss with you," he said. He instantly saw your shoulders slump just a hair, and his heart sank a little. "It's nothing bad, I promise," he added.

"Sorry, I just assumed after our last conversation..." You started to mutter. You stared straight ahead at your desk, still not looking at the prince.

This didn't go unnoticed either. "No, no, my love, don't worry about that. I have given some consideration to a few–" He stopped, , trying to assess the situation. "Darling, can you at least look at me?" His change in tone caught you off-guard: it was serious and bordering on irritated.

Slowly, you turned in your seat, your gaze dragging across the desk, the floor, landing on his shoes, and slowly traveling up to his golden gaze. His arms were crossed, and he looked down at you with frustration in his eyes. Instantly, you flinched.

Diavolo was utterly confused. He felt like he was doing everything wrong with you all of a sudden. You were never one to shy away, flinch, or not want to meet his gaze.

You two stared at each other, unable to speak. It was weirdly tense between you two, unlike anything either of you have ever felt with the other. Unfortunately, Diavolo was still struggling with what Lucifer told him about you. He took it personally, seeing it as a reflection of his ability to be a good partner. Though he knew that it wasn't about him or a reflection of him, it still affected how he acted toward you, but all that did was actually make things worse, so he was frustrated.

Abruptly, he turned and left your room, without a single word, leaving you to wonder what it was that he even came in for, and now you were frustrated as well. Actually, you were livid, your wrath instantly spiking your blood pressure. In a fit of fury, you put your study materials away and left your suite to go outside, hoping the Devildom air might calm you down. You weren't exactly quiet on your way out, with the prince hearing the slamming of doors from his office as you stormed your way out of the palace.

Barbatos stood in the wake of your warpath, holding a tray for tea, and simply watched as you left wordlessly. Immediately, he set the tea back down in the kitchen and went to Diavolo's office.

"Sir–"

"I know, Barbatos, she left," Diavolo interrupted, pinching the bridge of his nose.

The butler tilted his head. "My lord, did something happen?"

"I don't understand what I'm doing wrong," Diavolo snapped. "Ever since Lucifer told me about that, I just can't help but be angry."

"And who precisely are you angry at?" Barbatos asked, raising a brow.

"Her. How could she even think to do that to herself? Do I not give her everything that's mine to give?" Diavolo replied bitterly.

Barbatos lowered his tone into that of a warning, something he only did to discipline the prince. "Perhaps you need to reconsider that, my lord. You don't know what it's like to be in her shoes, nor do you know what it's like to go through everything she has. She's lived quite the life in her short time, as a human and now a demon, and now her plate is the fullest it's ever been, for you. I think you should give her more grace. You've lived a rather privileged life to not know that sort of pain, sir."

The butler sharply turned on his heel and exited the office, leaving Diavolo speechless. Truthfully, Barbatos was a touch aggravated with the prince. He immediately went outside to search for you, finding you sitting next to the black roses in the palace gardens.

"Mistress," Barbatos called to you, approaching.

"Ah, Barbatos, I'm sorry, I'll come have tea," you said, getting to your feet.

"No, mistress, it's something else. May I speak candidly?" Barbatos asked, seeming flustered.

"Of course," you said, confused by his state.

"Rather, I would like to tell you about myself. Why don't we walk for a little bit?" Barbatos suggested. You nodded and the two of you walked the gardens.

"When I was younger, before the prince came along, I found myself lonely and in despair, and I wasn't sure how much more of this life I could tolerate. There wasn't much left for me at that time, having lived for so long. It was when I was presented with the opportunity to serve my lord that I did find some enjoyment and feeling of purpose in my life," Barbatos said and then stopped, turning to you. "Now you have come into my life as well, and I cannot begin to imagine it without you, nor do I want to."

Your face heated up, unsure of where this is going.

He continued, "I do not know of your particular suffering, that is only something you will ever experience, but I do know what it's like to be buried in the weight of desolation, and you shouldn't carry that burden alone. It's far too heavy, and I offer myself as someone you might consider confiding in, if necessary, mistress," Barbatos explained.

Tears welled up in your eyes, and for the first time, Barbatos opened up his arms and pulled you in for an embrace. Instantly, your arms came around his waist.

He let go first and put his hands on your shoulders. "MC, you are loved dearly, by me and everyone around you. I know the young lord isn't the best with his temperament at times, but I implore you to give him some grace. Sometimes, he isn't the best at putting himself in the shoes of others. And, you're his first love, and I would surely hate for things to become strained before you two have even begun to work together in this next chapter," Barbatos finished.

"Thank you, Barbatos," you replied, placing your hands on top of his.

You looked over at the palace behind him, and then back at the demon before you. He nodded and you nodded in silent reply.

You ran, and Barbatos watched with a small smile on his face, proceeding to walk the gardens for a while.

Dashing through the halls at inhuman speed, you threw the door open to Diavolo's office. He immediately looked up at you, brows raised in surprise. The look on your face told him everything. He stood and came around his desk, and you ran up to him, jumping up into his open arms for him to easily catch you and hold you against him.

"I'm sorry," you rasped, burying your face in his neck.

"Darling, I should be sorry, and I am," he murmured into your hair. His hands gripped you tighter. "I've been unfair to you. My unjustified anger has pushed you away when you needed me the most. And I've made this entire ordeal about myself rather than listening to you. Please forgive me."

He set you back down on the floor and cupped your cheeks, checking your expression. Tears ran over, and he ran his thumbs over to wipe them away. "I love you. Please never forget that. I know things are hard right now, but I don't want you to feel like you have to do this alone. I may not understand fully what you are experiencing, but I can still be here for you and be the support you need."

You nodded, nuzzling your face into his large hands. "I love you too. I promise to take care of myself, and when things get too hard, I'll ask for help. I won't leave you, ever," you stated tearfully. You looped your arms around his neck and his hands dropped to your waist, bringing you in closer. Both of you leaned in for an emotional kiss, filled with silent apologies, promises of love and adoration, and fervent passion.

*The two of you started to stumble around, finding a place to land as his hands, as well as yours, started to mindlessly unbutton jackets, pull off shirts, tear off pants, and eventually landing on the couch fully naked. He laid you back and climbed on top of you, fully laying himself on you as you two grinded into the other. Both of you were flushed with red hot desire, needing to feel the other as close as inhumanly possible.

Your hands went to his hips and pulled them into you, silently telling him what you wanted. He pulled away to take hold of your legs and put them on his shoulders, immediately lining his cock up to enter you. Both of you were already ready, and the familiar ache of need was pooling in both of you, pining to be soothed with the feel of your lover.

Again, you pulled him into you, his member slipping into you with ease and both of moaned. He leaned forward, your knees pushing back into you, and sank as deep as he could go.

"Ahh-ah!" you moaned out. His lips took capture of yours, his tongue slipping in to tangle with yours. The pace of his thrusts was slow but deep, seeking to reach your deepest sweet spots. His hands each grabbed a hold of your ass, holding you in place as he pumped into you. He rested his forehead against yours.

"I love you, MC, please never forget that," Diavolo said in a hushed tone. All you could do was nod as the sobs of pleasure overtook your ability to speak. His pleasure was also starting to overtake him, pushing him to thrust into you faster, but still just as deep.

"I love you," you finally rasped out as the heat in your core flashed out to the rest of your body. Within seconds, your moans turned to a silent scream, his cock kissing your sweet spot relentlessly as you came undone, causing your juices to run down and coat your thighs as well as his. Feeling you come apart on his cock sent him over the edge as well, and he sunk himself to the hilt inside of you to cum, relishing in your mutual pleasure.

He brought your legs down to relax, still inside of you, and buried his face in your neck, fully laying on top of you.

*Just then, Lucifer happened to walk in, seeing Diavolo still balls deep inside of you, both of you panting. His eyes went wide to see the two of you like that, still in the throes of pleasure and intimacy. Though, he was actually rather turned on to see you in particular, blissed out. It made sense now why he didn't see Barbatos anywhere on the way to the office, but not as to why the door was open. Slowly, he backed away and waited in the hallway.

Slowly, your eyes opened, looking up at Diavolo's sculpted face. He looked back down at you and smiled. "I missed your touch, my love," he murmured.

"I'm sure you did," Lucifer called out from the hallway. Your eyes went wide, and you looked at the open door to the office that you completely forgot to close. Diavolo smirked and pulled away from you.

"Apologies, Lucifer, I suppose I forgot about our meeting today," he called from the couch.

"I suppose it's not the worst thing to walk in on," Lucifer replied.

Both you and Diavolo quickly got dressed and cleaned up. Lucifer came in and smirked at your flustered appearance. When he walked by you, he placed a kiss on the top of your head. But once he sat down in front of Diavolo's desk, you perched yourself on the Avatar's thigh, much to his pleasant surprise. Lucifer wrapped an arm around your waist and held you there. Your two lovers began to talk about work, and you listened patiently until fatigue took hold of you, so you settled back into Lucifer's arms and curled up on his lap and fell asleep.

"Hmph, I think we've done this before," Lucifer mused, looking down at you with adoration.

"Indeed, shall I go ahead and steal her away again?" Diavolo teased.

Lucifer frowned, clutching you tighter. "I do believe you already had some pretty intimate time with her," he retorted.

Diavolo sighed and nodded, "I suppose you are right."

---

Tags: @delphi-dreamin @itsmeninerz @leavesandflowers @obeymediasimp @frozengoldie @flemmingbamse @marvelous-maniac

Thanks for reading <3

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#obey me #obey me shall we date #sassywrites #sassystories #obey me fanfic #obey me lucifer #love-eternal #obey me diavolo #obey me smut #diavolo smut #diavolo x femreader #lucifer x female reader

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