#he'd been waiting for mc to arrive

[kylominis]

"𝐼'𝑚 𝑔𝑙𝑎𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒…" [♡]

[koolades-world]

do you think we'd be together in every life?

volume one: everyday life; lucifer

in which you and your lover are brought together over and over again no matter the timeline, no matter the circumstances

"Lucifer, do you think we'd be together in every life?" You asked him.

"That's a silly question, my love. I'm sure of it." He responded.

...

You pulled up into the mostly empty parking lot in front of your work. You were excited for your first official day, despite having already spent a fair amount of time in your workspace, so you'd arrived early. A few others cars were sprinkled throughout the parking lot already. You gathered your bags, and headed into the building.

The first thing you did was drop everything off at your desk, and make sure you had everything you needed. Once that was set, you decided to head to the break room, and start the coffee pot for your coworkers.

The halls were empty, and most room lights were still off. While you were a bit too soon, that only gave yourself more time to prepare for the day. After all, elementary school started early, so you felt you should too. As a teacher, it was your duty.

When you entered the break room, it seemed as if someone had already been in there. The lights were on. A couple chairs were pulled out, and the coffee pot you'd intended to start was already ready. The fridge was also slightly ajar, so before you got yourself your morning coffee, you decided to shut it. What you weren't expecting, however, was to find a short, blond child staring up at you. He looked to be about eight or nine years old.

"Hi." You couldn't think of much else to say.

"Hello." He didn't move, but greeted you back.

"What are you doing in there?" You opened the door further to get a better look at him.

"It was too hot." He stated matter of factly. He glanced at you like you were interrupting something, and like he wanted nothing more than for you to leave him alone. You didn't know children could have a death glare that intense.

"It is warm in here." You nodded along with the child.

"My dad went to make it colder. He should be back soon." He picked up a random stick of butter that rested on a lower shelf of the fridge that had been in there for who knows how long, and looked at it. It seemed like he was doing everything he could to pretend you weren't there. You scrunched up your face, thinking. You believed the kid, but that didn't stop the situation from being odd.

"I'm back." The door to the break room opened, and you turned to meet the gaze of the most gorgeous man you'd ever seen in your life. He had dark hair, and intense red eyes. A pair of rectangular glasses sat on his nose, and wore a matching sweater vest. "Satan. Get out of the fridge." He sounded exasperated, but the young boy obeyed. He set the butter down back where he'd found it and shut the fridge door behind him.

"Hello! Nice to meet you. I assume this is your son?" You greeted the tall man happily.

"Yes. I'm sorry about him. I went to turn the AC on because he kept complaining about the heat." He let out a long sigh.

"I'm Mc, a new third grade teacher. This is my first day." You smiled pleasantly at him.

"Lucifer. Pleasure to be acquainted. I'm a junior high teacher. Seventh grade." He extended a hand to you. His nails were painted a messy, deep red. You took his hand, and shook it. His hands were freezing despite the room still being warm. "Satan. Introduce yourself. They're your teacher this year." Lucifer's words took you by surprise. He must've done his research.

"My name is Satan. My favorite animal is a cat, and my favorite color is green." He didn't move a muscle and stayed firmly planted beside his father.

"Satan..." Lucifer trailed off, tired.

"Well then, I'm Mx. Mc. I can't wait to get to know you this year! I love cats too. I have two at home." Satan's face lit up; a sharp contrast from the closed off kid you'd discovered in the fridge less than five minutes ago.

"Can I see pictures of them?" He stepped closer to you. his eyes sparkling.

"You can, but I left my phone in my classroom." You patted your pockets, realizing in your excitement, you'd left it in your bag.

"Dad. I'm going with them." The young boy less demanded, more stated a fact to his father.

"Are you alright with that? I'd hate to make you look after him for longer than you're supposed to." Lucifer asked.

"I don't mind at all! He can come pick his seat and help me do a little setting up." You were so excited that he'd warmed up to you. "Besides, it looks like you could use a break. You're much braver than me for handling middle school, and I imagine you need to time to prepare for the day, handsome." You patted his arm, and his tired expression morphed into one of surprise. He averted his eyes, seeming to want to look anywhere but your face, his ears tinged red.

"Thank you." He said. He picked up a cute little lunchbox and backpack from the corner of the room, and handed it to his son. "Have a good day. I'll see you this afternoon. I love you." He kissed the top of his head. Your heart melted at the affection he was showing Satan. Despite how exasperated he seemed with the boy, you could tell he loved him.

"Bye Dad." Satan's crooked smile was adorable. It was something you hadn't seen yet. He had a gap between his two front teeth that you would probably never forget.

"Ready?" You extended a hand to Satan.

"I'm ready to see pictures of your cats." Both you and Lucifer burst out laughing at his insistence. You waved to Lucifer, and he waved back. You looked forward to the end of the day, knowing you'd get to see him again.

The rest of the day flew by. Satan was very warm to you, but could've been nicer to his classmates. He almost made one boy cry, but he apologized, and seemed to become friends by the end of the day. Elementary ended before middle school, so you took it upon yourself to look after the boy until his dad was ready for him. You couldn't bring yourself to send him into a gaggle of middle schoolers.

So, when middle school finally let out, you gathered your things and walked Satan to Lucifer's classroom. Satan burst into the room, and hugged his dad. "Hi." Lucifer paused his cleaning up of the room.

"Before you ask, he was lovely to have as a student, and made some friends." You readjusted your bag on your shoulder.

"They have a black cat, and a gray cat." Rather than talk about his day, he told his dad about the conversation you'd had about your cats that morning. "We have to go meet them." Satan pointed at you.

"Satan, you can't just invite yourself over to other peoples home's." Lucifer, while he still seemed tired, sounded happy to be reunited with his child.

"I don't mind. If he does good in class, that is." You could tell he was a bright kid, and if that was the motivation he needed, you were more than happy to be that for him.

"I'll be the best then." Satan yelled. You began laughing again. You could already tell it was going to be a fun year.

"Then, it's a deal." You nodded. "Speaking of my cats, I need to get going home to them. I haven't left them alone for this long in a while."

"Bring new pictures of them tomorrow." His face was very serious, letting you know that he really wanted to see more of your cats.

"I can do that." You opened the door. "See you two then." You stepped out into the hall, but the door took it's time closing.

"We've talked about asking, rather then demanding things, bud." You heard Lucifer say.

"I'm doing you a favor. I'm helping you marry them." Satan stated that like it was common knowledge. Lucifer chocked on his words once he heard you laughing to yourself in the hallway. When the door finally shut itself, you could no longer hear the dynamic duo.

You gave what Satan said a little thought. You certainly wouldn't mind getting to know Lucifer better. While you knew not to get your hopes up, you had an odd feeling that you and that devilishly handsome man would get to know each other very well. You couldn't wait for tomorrow.

[lost-and-ephemeral]

Series: In Her Shadow, pt.2 (ft. main trio)

Part 1 | Part 2

Slowly but surely she replaced you in his heart.

Pairing: Xavier x reader, Zayne x reader, Rafayel x reader (seperate)

Tags: angst, hurt no comfort, reader is not MC, breakup

A/N: I recieved a lot of comments and request asking me to continue, so here we are! I've tried my best. Ty everyone, I appreciate every message, even if it would be hard to mention every single one of them in this post. Also, if you want to be tagged in future fics, let me know!

-`♡´- MASTERLIST -`♡´- 

Rafayel

You began to notice that Rafayel was spending less and less time with you, choosing his bodyguard over you.

It wasn't obvious at first, yeah, but as time went on, everything became so noticeable that you couldn't ignore it anymore. Especially when he forgot about your plans with him and didn't even consider apologizing for it.

The smell of someone else's perfume in his studio, the way Rafayel would leave you at home and take her to all the important events because "you probably don't like spending time among journalists and annoying guests." It seems that he didn't even notice the moment when you were completely estranged from each other.

And all your attempts to talk to him about it ended with nothing.

"She's my bodyguard," he'd say. "No wonder I take her everywhere I go. Is there anything wrong with that?"

Yes, a lot of things were wrong.

But he was completely unwilling to notice it, and you were tired of collecting the shards of your broken heart from the floor day after day. Those warm feelings that brought a sense of lightness and happiness in your heart suddenly turned into pure torture.

You had to end it all, even if it'll hurt so much.

When you arrived at his studio this morning, you came face to face with "Ms. Bodyguard" herself. She was just about to leave, and didn't even hesitate to embrace your beloved. Right in front of you.

Maybe you would've exploded from all these negative emotions, if you had any strength left to be mad or to cry. But there was only emptiness in your heart.

You became strangers to each other.

"I'm breaking up with you," you said without any regret and pushed him away as he tried to hug you. "I don't want to be a second choice after your precious bodyguard."

"W-wait, why? What... But I didn't do anything!" he replied confused, apparently not realizing how much he's been hurting you all this time.

"Maybe that's the point. That you'd do anything for her, but not for me."

He looked at you with the same confusion in his eyes, trying to figure out if it was a joke, but you continued before leaving this place forever.

"You were everything to me, Rafayel. But for you, I was just a small episode of your life. I'm tired. You've been spending all your free time with her, like I didn't exist. It'll be better this way. Goodbye."

No matter how long he was calling your name, asking you to stop, to come back and talk with him, you didn't.

Zayne

Loving a cardiac surgeon with his busy schedule is hard.

But it's even harder when he no longer cares about your existence and spends a significant amount of time with his childhood friend.

After Zayne forgot about your reservation at the restaurant, making you feel like you were the last fool in this world, some more time has passed.

Yeah, he apologized. No, he didn't start spending less time with his "friend".

It's hard to count how many evenings you spent alone when he stayed late at work for her or was invited to a "friendly" dinner with her. But it happened often enough so finally your love turned into suffering.

At first you tried to convince yourself that you're too jealous and he's just happy to finally reunite with someone close to him from his youth. You care about your friends too, don't you?

But it only got worse.

All your plans were constantly adjusted to his friend's wishes. She wants to take him to a cafe at the same time you were planning to go to the cinema? "Sorry, love, let's reschedule our date for another day". You've made him his favorite dinner? Too bad, his friend already brought him dinner at work and he's not hungry.

Eventually you started feeling like he stopped enjoying your time together and just continued to exist in the same apartment with you out of habit.

Talking didn't get you anywhere, because Zayne didn't notice how much he was hurting you (or he simply didn't want to notice it) with his actions and only distanced himself from you even more.

At some point you felt like he put an ice wall around himself again.

He stayed late again this evening, completely forgetting his promise to spend time with you. You packed your things with tears in your eyes, ready to say goodbye to life with Zayne once and for all.

And he showed up at the doorstep of his apartment just as you were ready to leave.

"What's going on?" his voice didn't betray a shred of emotion. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to leave you and your lovely friend together so I don't have to be an unwanted addition to your life."

Zayne was taken aback at this statement and was about to say something, but you interrupted him.

"You were the one who brought happiness and comfort into my life. You were the one who made me feel loved and wanted. But now I realize that I wasn't good enough for you. Goodbye."

You walked away and closed the door behind you, leaving him all alone.

Xavier

Before, you without a doubt would've said that your relationship with Xavier was the ultimate dream.

But now it wasn't actually true.

Yes, your beloved still showed care and attention every spare minute he had. Just not to you. It seemed as if his colleague started to occupy his every thought.

During dinner, on a walk, after missions. He was always talking about her, how strong she is, and how lucky he is that she chose him as her partner. His eyes were shining with delight you had never seen before.

You were happy for him, but only until it crossed the line. Only until you started to feel like he was in love with her, not with you.

One day you found yourself completely miserable. Xavier texted you that he would be late because they had "decided to celebrate another successful mission". Except that you were usually the one he shared his joy with. But things have changed.

Even though you were the brightest star in his world, you were inevitably lost behind the glow of the Moon.

You were trying to be better, to be more interesting. Trying to reach an unattainable ideal. But you couldn't. After all, maybe you were never meant to be together if it turned out like this. Maybe you weren't enough for him.

You couldn't remember the last day you didn't cry. Sometimes alone, sometimes locking yourself in the bathroom after another conversation about this "super-strong collegue". But Xavier didn't seem to notice it at all.

"I thought maybe you'd be interested to know what happens during missions," he said when you brought up this painful topic.

And, yes, you were interested. But all you heard was, "She took down that Wanderer so easily, I couldn't take my eyes off her." Or, "she's so good with her weapon, it's amazing."

He distanced himself from you so much that you hardly spent any time together.

He wasn't even home the day you left.

Xavier sent you a message saying he'd be late again. As usual, with her. Even though he promised to have a movie night and you had already prepared everything you needed for it.

Maybe it's even better if you don't see the look in his eyes the moment you tell him you're breaking up with him. You packed your things and left a note on the table, next to the snacks you bought.

"Maybe in another universe I would be worthy of you so you could look at me with the same adoration. I can see that you enjoy spending time with her much more. And we should break up so you don't torment my heart anymore. Goodbye."

You glanced around his apartment one last time before leaving it forever.

♡ tags: @skyowlz @prettytemis @aishasreality @randompersonwhoexist @kreishin @reni502 @moonyzstarz @chin-chii

[vasiktomis]

Loophole (Zayne x F!Reader, 18+)

Summary: Zayne has an Evol flare-up while you’re visiting Snowcrest. You’re a good friend, so you help him out.

It doesn't mean anything if you don't move, right?

Rating: Explicit (Minors do NOT interact). Word Count: ~6800. Tags/Warnings: Female Pronouns and Anatomy for Reader, Reader is MC, Caretaking, Friends to Lovers, Inappropriate Doctor/Patient Relationship, Childhood Friends, Bickering, Cock Warming, First Time, Vaginal Sex, Photography, Unsafe Sex, Porn with Feelings, Switching. Post-chapter 4 spoilers. Read it on Ao3 Here!

“Let’s get you inside.”

The cold weather poses something of a threat to Zayne, you've realised.

He'd never admit such a thing, of course, but if he hadn't wanted you to make such an observation, he shouldn't have made it his responsibility to impose such an unexpectedly strong presence in your life.

A year ago, you barely knew him. To say he kept you at arms' length was an understatement, but with everything that's occurred in recent months — with such a void left in your life from the loss of Caleb and Grandma — and the ugly mysteries eclipsing once-happy memories — your doctor, of all people, is the one dedicating almost every minute of his time outside of work to trying to fill that void. It's not like he talks your ear off — he's Zayne, after all — but he makes a noticeable effort to make himself accessible to you whenever he can.

He's been a good friend to you at the sacrifice of his own comfort.

In the seven months that have passed since the explosion, you've had more exposure to Zayne than you've had any of your other friends. He rarely strays from his quiet stoicism, but it's far easier to read him. These days, you can't believe you once thought him intimidating. The softer aspects of his personality aren't offered willingly, but accidentally. A slip of the tongue here, a too-long stare at a community cat there, a smile he doesn't think you notice. He masks his requests for you to visit him in his overtime hours as nagging reminders for you to water the plants. He never asks you to bring him dinner, but there's always an extra seat pulled up at his desk when you arrive with it unannounced.

You’re sure he likes it well enough; getting to know you after all these years. You’re just not sold on how fond he is of you knowing him.

It shows stark on his typically taciturn features. Streetlamp light bounces off fluffy snow at all angles in the little village laneway, illuminating the man with an almost healthy glow as he walks stiffly beside you, right hand clutched against his side and his left doing all it can to keep from crushing the bones in yours.

“I’m fine.” He insists while you lead him up to the cabin, grimacing at a sudden chill of wind passing over the porch. There's a certain tone he uses when he's putting on the bedside manner. As a patient, you'd be soothed. As a friend, your patience wanes. He's not fine.

”I’ll get a fire going.” You mutter, ushering him inside. He tries amidst obvious pain to be gentlemanly, waiting for you to enter first, but a scowl on your part has him conceding defeat and ambling through the door. “Get in the shower. Can you turn it on by yourself?”

There’s no more warm light from the street in here. Dr. Noah likely would have fallen asleep hours ago, shortly after you’d left for dinner. Still, even in the dark, you can sense the irritation in him.

“You act like I’m frozen solid.” He retorts on his way to the bathroom, knowing better than to stick around despite the attempt to uphold his pride.

”Get your butt in the shower before I throw you in there myself.”

The warmer months gave you no initial reason to suspect anything, but as the weather worsened and temperatures dropped, Zayne began to feel more on-edge. You’d bore witness to his attacks in the past, but he was no more willing to share his condition with you beyond the odd occasion of being unable to switch it off after a battle. You knew what it looked like when his Evol was acting up. It almost caused a fight, the first time you asked about it. Then, when it became clear you weren’t simply going to leave him to his own devices whenever he was displaying the signs, Zayne steadily, reluctantly, began to let you assist. He couldn’t stand it — he still can’t, you’re sure — not playing caretaker for once, but the two of you found a rhythm; keeping an eye on his temperature, steering clear of fluctuations, little remedies that help him bounce back quicker when his Evol gets the better of him. It became second nature to you, like carrying an Epipen for a loved one at risk of anaphylaxis.

You won’t lie, though. It pisses you off. He’s a constant nag when it comes to your health regarding your heart condition, but there was no allowable mention of his  condition when he brought you to Dr. Noah. Not that your opinion counts for anything, apparently, but what idiot cashes out his annual leave for an extended stay in a tundra when he's so prone to such reactions?

It had shocked you even more when your friend declared he’d be staying back for the foreseeable future, conducting research for the old man on a solo expedition on Mt. Eternal. Your friend — the one who'd taken it upon himself to be a stand-in for your lost family — alone, in the worst possible place he could be in his condition.

It was unthinkable.

Four weeks was your breaking point after you’d returned home without him.

Sure, he responded to your texts within seconds. Reception wasn’t good enough for calls, but he made sure to give you no logical reason to worry about him. It didn’t help. Once your dreams started to take the shape of him disappearing into the mountains, you cut your losses and decided to visit for the weekend.

Just as well, considering he’d been massaging his wrist in your periphery for the entirety of your first day. Still, he'd insisted on showing you around Snowcrest, spending as much time away from Dr. Noah's cabin as possible. You knew his tells. He was bordering on a flare-up and hiding it from you. Had he mentioned it and agreed to stay in tonight, you might not of had to drag him home with frost seeping out of his clothes and a foul mood. Instead, he chose to be proud about it.

Idiot.

God knows what could have happened to him if he hadn't come down from the mountain to spend the weekend with you.

He’d never let you get away with such stupidity, and it’s hard not to hold it against him. You came here out of worry in the first place, and the visit isn’t doing a thing to set your mind at ease.

You tend to rekindling the dimming embers in the fireplace, content to mind your business once you hear the shower turn on. At least he’s doing what he’s told.

The living room heats up steadily. New flames settle into a longer-lived glow. You get yourself changed into more suitable bed wear; a commandeered hoodie from your doctor’s medical school era, large enough to reach halfway to your knees. The frayed cuffs have since lost their elasticity and there are a few choice stains, and most condemning, the drawstrings have been chewed to tassels — but god, if it isn’t comfy. Time stretches on, and while the worry gnaws at the back of your mind, you leave Zayne to his privacy. So long as you don’t hear a thump, you’re content to imagine he’s probably just in there being mad at himself over not being the sensible one for once.

Zayne keeps himself locked away for the better part of an hour, in the end. Even Pie pads out into the living room to investigate what you’re doing up alone in the middle of the night before a scritch sends the fox on its way back to bed.

You’ve slid most of the way off the couch by the time the man emerges from his room in fresh pajamas. With your back to the rug, you watch him approach stiffly, slowing to a halt upside-down. He’s still rubbing at that wrist, you note.

“You’re still up.” He mutters, brow knitted in discomfort.

There’s frost on his neck. His lips are blue. It wasn’t even this bad when you were outside. A pit forms in your stomach.

Then, his wake hits you. Cold air, chilling you to the bone, and you sit up in a flash.  

“Zayne—“

He silences you with a little hand motion, stepping around you to seat himself as close as he can to the fireplace.

“You’re half-frozen.” You continue when he offers you nothing else. Crawling onto the couch beside him, you reach up to tug at the collar of his sweater, trying to inspect the severity of the attack. “God, you should have said  something.”

“I thought you were asleep.” He replies quietly. “I’ve seen — how much it takes to wake you-“

Zayne flinches from your touch when your fingertip skims his neck. The most aggressive warning to stay back that he can risk without waking his mentor. You ignore him, of course. You always do. Sitting close, you press yourself to his side on the couch, guiding his right arm between your thighs. Your fingers lace between his from both sides, covering as much surface area as possible as you use your body to fend off the cold.

A moment is all it takes to see some of the tension in his face disappear. He breathes through the pain, eyes closed, and you shift your gaze to the fireplace to give him his privacy with it.

”You’re in so much trouble when this passes.”

A short, sharp chuckle slips through Zayne’s teeth. He nods once. “I know.”

You sit together like this for a long while, letting him sap the heat from your body to combat the flare-up. If not for the fire, you’d be shivering. It takes time, but eventually Zayne’s breathing evens out. His face relaxes, bit by bit. His half-frozen arm feels just a little cold to the touch.

Neither of you part. Not just yet. There’s too much left unsaid, and Zayne takes far too much solace in quiet to make the first move.

You let your temple drop to his shoulder. “Snow village dates are nice, but most girls would say yes to ‘Go Fish’  and hot cocoa if it means their date makes it through the night.”

After a second, Zayne rests his head against yours.

He inhales.

He pauses.

Then…

“I wanted you to have a nice time. I didn’t think it through.”

…God, he’s such a sweet man. It’s not wonder he’s got you wrapped around his finger.

There’s such a sense of finality to the way he says it. You suppose it’s not necessarily a wrong way to think of it, but it’s not his fault. Sure, it’s your last night together for what may amount to months, and he was stupid enough to think he could get away with poking the bear, but you’d rather have him come home alive and well. Not a victim to his own Evol.

It doesn’t sit right with you to let it end like this. The moment he’s recovered, he’s going to insist you both go to sleep. You’ll take the guest bed, and he’ll take the pull-out trundle, and he’ll remain there, soundless with his back to you. In the morning, you’ll say your goodbyes, and that will be that. The next time you see him will probably be for a check-up, and he’ll spend the entirety of the ECG acting like you’re mere acquaintances again.

No, you’re not losing momentum.

You’re not sure if it’s warmth in general, or if it’s a reaction specific to you — through trust, or the Aether core — there’s just no telling. Zayne keeps his cards too close to his chest for you to ever be sure, but you do know for certain that you hold the quickest remedy. If it’s just warmth, he never lets anyone but you get close enough to supply it. If it’s trust, likewise. The Aether core? You’re the only one.

“What are you—“

Zayne stiffens when you climb into his lap. He winces in discontentment; at such an intimidate proximity, at the physical danger he still poses, at the feeling of your thighs astride his. He doesn’t look pleased in the slightest, but still, his knees shift together, offering you a more comfortable perch on which to explain yourself.

You can feel the cold still radiating from him, fighting his body to keep from regulating its own temperature. It’s unpleasant, the way the chill claws at you, reaching across the expanse of your front. The joints in your hands already ache just from holding his arm to your chest. It’s imaginable, what it must be like to host such an Evol. What it must be like to have your own flesh freeze from the inside-out on a whim.

“Not done keeping you warm.” You answer simply, making a conscious effort to keep your teeth from chattering for his sake. He’s exercising enormous restraint not flinging you off of him already. You shouldn’t push your luck by sending him into any more of a panic.

“It’s not safe for you to be this close.” Zayne protests.

“Then I’m making you safe.”

This time, a growl escapes him. Pain cuts his patience with your impudence short. “You’re going to get yourself hurt—“

Zayne’s words die in his throat when you drape yourself over him, chest to chest, arms languidly curling over his shoulders. He goes completely silent.

“Aren’t you always telling me you can control it, anyway?” You muse, relaxing into him, moulding yourself to his body. The white frost that blooms beneath his skin begins to fade from his throat, unable to contend with the warmth of your breath. “If you didn’t want me doing this you shouldn’t have shown me how well it works.”

“That was after the aid of a hot shower.” Zayne argues. His logic might apply for that aborted attempt at an early-morning hike, but it falls flat tonight. “I was trying to warm up after the shower.”

Yeah, look how well that turned out. He’s as bad at lying as you are.

“So you’re saying I ought to have—“

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“If it’s not helping, Zayne, tell me.”

“…It’s helping.” He mutters.

You declare your victory with a hum, tucking your face into the collar of his sweater.

Even his scent is cold, somehow.

Beneath you, Zayne shifts, conceding defeat. You feel his lips ghost the side of your head. Considering — then retreating from a kiss — opting instead to rest his chin on you. His affected arm remains wedged between you, while his free hand comes to rest on your waist.

Minutes pass. Zayne’s breathing steadies to a resting rhythm. Eventually, the ice retreats into his flesh, disappearing with only a lingering chill. It shifts, marking the man’s return to normal, but he doesn’t announce anything. Instead, he tugs his arm out, only to wrap around you, surrendering to the moment.

“Do you have plans, while I’m away?” He asks.

“Tara’s been looking at the blank spots on my calendar, so I’ve probably got things on without knowing, yet.”

“Blank spots.”

”Yeah. Some of us have those.”

”Sounds like you don’t know what to do with yourself without me.”

“Please. I won’t have to worry about you bullying me. Maybe, y’know, I’ll do just fine without you.”

A chuckle escapes him. Tentatively, he toys with the fabric of your hoodie. “You’re not going to wash this at all, are you.”

Heat climbs up your neck at the suggestion. Of all the night clothes you had to bring, why did it have to be something you’d stolen from him?

You’re no coward. You rise to challenge. “Can’t miss you when it feels like I’ve got you with me.”

“I know  you’ll miss me,” Zayne retorts, and wow, he’s really  angling for a comeback after having you subject him to being taken care of, “But that’s no excuse for poor hygiene.”

“Poor hygiene—!”

You lean back to glower at the man, only to find him smirking up at you.

“I’ve half a mind to expect to find you asleep on the platform when the train pulls in, simply because you were too excited to wait at home for me to drop by.”

Your ears are positively scalding. You feel yourself shrinking, suddenly not so confident taking up as much space in the room. How does he have you so well figured out? Are you really that much of an open book? Compared to him, sure, but you’d hoped you carried a little more mystery about you than sitting on a station platform for a quasi-boyfriend-without-benefits  like a dog.

Even if that is  the case — does he really have to rub it in your face?

He can’t get away with this.

Speaking plainly, Zayne’s warmed up plenty. There’s no real reason for either of you to remain this close, and yet — despite lauding himself as the rational half of this friendship, his arms almost keep you from moving any further away.

His expression doesn’t falter with your silence, remaining ever-undisturbed. It unnerves you. His smiles never last more than a second, and you can count on one hand the amount of times he’s looked you in the eye with a pleasant face on. He’s on a power trip. If you don’t cut him down right this second he’ll go nuclear. He’ll leave you hanging with a ‘goodnight’  and a kiss on the forehead and you’ll both never speak of tonight again.

This is it. This is the last straw. Tonight, you leave him  hanging. 

“You want me to miss you so fucking bad, huh?” You accuse him, tapping a finger to your chin as you pretend to wonder. His eyebrow ticks. “Is that what you’re into? Man, you medical staff are all so power hungry.”

Zayne looks thoughtful for a moment. A thumb idly traces back and forth along your skin, barely tucked beneath your hoodie. It’s such a cautious touch. You wish  he wasn’t just all talk. “Perhaps you’re easier to deal with when one considers you might actually like getting bossed around.”

There’s no hiding the erection that sits wedged between you. There’s no ignoring the heat that pools in your core every time it strains against your cunt, blocked only by his sweatpants and your underwear.

There’s no way he can’t feel your heart beat throbbing against him.

And yet — he pretends not to be taking part in any of it.

You think about it for a moment.

Then, you roll your hips forward, slowly, gently. Your nerves spark as your clit finds the pressure it needs against the underside of his cock.

It takes everything in your power to keep from doing it again.

A tiny shiver makes its way out of Zayne. Frustration, perhaps. You angle a knowing little smile at him, and his throat bobs. He knows he’s been caught.

Checkmate.

“Doctor Zayne, are you getting off on this?” You ask, and his face flushes scarlet. His eyes widen, caught off-guard by you finally crossing the threshold.

”I…don’t know what you’re talking about.” He answers lamely, pointedly avoiding looking down.

“You are!”

“Not so loud. It’s n-… it’s nothing.” He insists in a hushed voice, shooting a look over your shoulder before he’s satisfied that the coast is clear of anyone who might be privy to what the two of you are doing. “Just a biological reaction to stimuli.”

“Which stimuli?” You ask, feigning curiosity. “The cuddling, or this?”

To stress your point, you do it again, biting back the swell of enjoyment at the way his lips part of their own accord. A little hum spills forth, and his own hips chase the motion, just for a second, before he halts.

“Please.” Zayne murmurs, moving to hold you still. Inching you back onto his thighs, condemning himself to reveal two little damp patches. One where the grey fleece of his sweatpants pulls most taut. The other a little lower, where you’ve been rubbing your cunt along his clothed shaft.

“You need to learn when you’ve teased enough.”

What — fall back? Now? When all your nerves are alight?

Your tongue wets your lips as you take in the sight of him. Well on his way to wrecked, but not quite there. His expression remains otherwise impassive, but his pupils are far too blown to help him maintain the facade.

“You’re one to talk. Can’t hack it when it’s not you in charge?” You challenge him. “You’re not usually one to shy away from uncharted territory.”

You can’t help but reach out, itching to touch him. Fingertips smooth along his length, feather-light from the bottom up. His cock twitches when you reach the tip, begging for more.

“Ah—“ Long fingers snatch at your wrist, holding you fast. “Try no man’s land.”

“It’s nothing.” You assure him. “You said it yourself.”

Nothing. No different to how he so often strays into treating you, with all his dates and touches. Nothing, midday naps and linking your pinky-fingers as you walk together. Nothing, like the spare clothes you both reserve a drawer for.

“Just warming you up. That’s all.”

Zayne’s chest expands. His gaze fixes on your fingertips curling insistently at his waistband despite his grip keeping you at bay. “That’s all.”

Disbelief? Determination? Disappointment? You’re not familiar enough with how each of these sound in his throat to properly identify it, but Zayne’s grip on your wrist releases nonetheless. He opts to help you make more comfortable work of his track pants, pushing them down just a little to allow you easier access. There’s no presence of approval at how greedy you are about it, pawing and snatching at your prize while he tries to remain nonchalant.

You do try to give him the dignity of privacy by not looking down when he settles and you finally wrap both hands around his cock. He’s already indignant as it is, and the rumble that vibrates deep in his chest as your fingers close around him isn’t helping.

Oh — maybe just a little tease.

“Hey.” You chide, grinning. His eyes crack open, just enough to narrow at you. “Don’t make it weird. I’m a professional.”

It earns you a scoff. Zayne’s fingers, settled on your thighs, give a retaliatory squeeze, thumbs pressing just hard enough into your adductors to skirt on discomfort. He watches you tense at the feeling, and sensing an opportunity to shift the attention back off himself, decides to squeeze harder.

You finally flinch with an “Ow!”, and the man smiles to himself. Mission accomplished. He lets go.

”You’re the professional? How many surgeries have you performed?”

”How many have you  performed?”

”…A lot, genius.”

“Didn’t you tell me that some of your worst patients are doctors themselves?”

“Your point being?”

There’s no point — at least not in arguing with him. He’s only trying to distract you. You shift over him, and his attitude dissolves. He leans back, maintaining as much distance as he can — or perhaps to watch, as you tug your underwear to the side — line yourself up — and sink down onto his cock.

Zayne’s chest expands, but he makes no noise. His eyes close. His lips part. A minor crease forms between his eyebrows. It might as well be a sob. You’d use such a reaction against him if you weren’t more concerned with suppressing your own, lest he catch you out. Your cunt burns from the sudden, full intrusion, and his diverted attention gives you the moment you need to grow accustomed to it.

Once you’ve gotten over the initial shock of the feeling, you brush any intrusive thoughts aside. It doesn’t matter if he’s one of your oldest and closest friends. It doesn’t matter if he’s your doctor. You were already squarely planted in conflict-of-interest territory the moment he took you on as a patient.

You try to ignore your own desire. Your body catches up with your actions quickly, igniting touch-starved nerves that you’ve long-fantasised him satisfying. Heat builds inside you at a nervous system realising you’re finally giving it what it wants, and it only screams for more. Of course you’ve wanted Zayne. You adore him, but he’s not the kind of man who could balance a friendship with benefits; if anything, he finds a way to be the inverse of such a thing. He gives you everything in the way of a relationship except sex, and with him steering so clear of crossing that boundary with you, you have to tread carefully.

As much as you want to, this is delicate.

“My point is: zip it and let me take care of you.” You manage.

Besides, its not like you’re actually having sex with him. He’s continually pushing the boundaries of platonic with all his touches and hugs anyway. It’s not like he has a leg to stand on if he wants to protest what sitting on his cock might mean for your relationship. Hell, this isn’t even the first time he’s been hard when you’ve had his hips pinned down with your own.

If anything, you’re doing the guy a favour by taking the responsibility off him to go this far.

Zayne doesn’t bounce back as quickly as you do. His eyes remain scrunched shut, his core engaged beneath your palms as you brace your weight to settle into a more comfortable position in his lap. He looks worried. Apprehensive.

“Doctor Zayne?” Concern begins to creep in, just a little. “Okay, you can say something now.”

“Please,” He grits between his teeth, and relief floods your body as some semblance of calm returns to his expression, “Don’t call me that — like this.”

“Like what? I’m just warming you up, remember?” You offer a smile when he opens one eye, mood shifting to quizzical.

“You’re so immature. And for the record, this constitutes malpractice. You’re a terrible doctor.”

”Trust the process.”

”Fine. What’s the course of treatment?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing.”

You can’t help but chuckle at such quiet outrage. It’s getting easier to read him. Relaxing against his front, you ignore a little gasp on his part to loop your arms around his neck again. Dishonest pretences be damned, this really is doing the trick. “All you need to do is stay still.”

Zayne weighs up his options for only a moment before giving in. His arms slip around your waist. His chin hooks over your shoulder, just barely nuzzling into the crook of your neck. He’s breathing in your scent, and the following exhale into your skin has you stifling a shiver.

Then, there’s a flex within you.

“Hey!” You choke, “I said stay still back there!”

“Quiet down. It was only a reflex.” Zayne defends, a little too cavalier to fly under the radar. “Besides, I’m not the one squirming.”

“I’m just getting comfortable. Your hips are pointy.”

Zayne’s hips slot up into yours, and the feel of him nudging just a little deeper has your eyes stinging. You fail to stifle a little squeak, and you’re shushed for it immediately.

“Just getting comfortable.” Zayne’s words lick at your ear, and the sound of him sends shivers through you, pooling between your legs, pleading with you to satisfy the ever-nagging want to start riding him. “You’re like a vice.”

He has to know how much of an effect he has on you. There’s no way he doesn’t.

You don’t respond to his attitude — however, the condemning, responding, constricting  of your insides around his cock surely doesn’t go unnoticed, and with a hollow breath, he lifts you, just a little, enough to draw back and push back in. He’s slow about it; infuriatingly so, almost like if he inches in and out at enough of creeping pace you’ll either not bother to be strict with him, or you’ll simply abandon your own rules in favour of crossing the boundary he’s silently begging you to cross for him.

No. He’s not getting the upper hand here. Not when he gets to pretend all his little actions are forgettable. Platonic. Accidental. Misunderstood. There’s only so many times a guy can subtly grind on someone during a spooning session and claim ignorance when called out about it.

You lock your feet beneath his knees, and sink down onto him, hard. Pleasure blooms. Your cunt aches for more. A sharp breath escapes Zayne, threatening to blossom into an appreciative groan that would only serve to tempt you without your hand clapping over his mouth and a ‘shh!’.

“You can keep still, or this stops.” You announce in a whisper, and he watches you defiantly from behind your hand.

Zayne’s gaze eventually breaks away from yours. Conceding. For now, at least. You lower your hand from his mouth, and relax, reaching across the cushion to pluck your phone from the couch and check your messages.

Already, he’s bothered by your lack of undivided attention.

“You’re on your phone.”  He huffs.

“I’m not rewarding your behaviour.” You reply simply.

“You’re not implying that behaving differently would warrant a reward, are you?”

That’s for him to figure out.

You shift your weight maybe just a little more than you need to, indulging in the feeling of his cock shift with you, within you, pressing insistently against that one spot that almost has your constitution coming apart at the seams. Zayne trembles momentarily beneath you, swallowing hard. He’s keeping his cool well enough, but as you settle into the new angle, no longer moving, his frustration makes itself known with another twitch inside you.

If he keeps doing that, you’re not sure you can hold out.

“You really  think this is helping?” He asks, voice tight.

“You don’t believe me?” You pout, tapping your home screen and opening your camera app. “Fine, let the expert see for himself.”

Switching to selfie cam, you watch as the man glances at his image on the screen for half a second, before tearing his gaze away. Not a shocker, you reason. He’s probably never seen himself with a hair out of place. Flushed cheeks and dilated pupils? You might as well have shown him a traffic collision.

“Aw, come on. Look how much colour’s come back to your face.”

Zayne musters the courage to look up, but not at the phone. His eyes narrow at you. Accusatory. “I’m not interested in giving you blackmail material.”

“What? Get real. There’s nothing incriminating going on. Especially not when you angle it like this.” You switch on a filter and lean down into the man. “See?”

Curiosity gets the better of him, and his head tilts to get a better look at whatever scheme you’re cooking up. On the screen, both your flushed faces smooth out, blushing perfectly. Cat ears and whiskers. Cheek to cheek. Just another one of your countless selfies with completely platonic friends.

You take the shot. The shutter clicks.

“Cute.” Zayne mutters drily.

“You think so?”

“Only how much fun you seem to be having of it.”

Your brow knits. “Oh yeah? All right, stick in the mud, you take over.”

He gives too much away at that response. His long fingers immediately slip over your hips. He’s readying to flip you onto your back before he notices you’re holding the phone out to him. Then, knowing he’s shown his hand, he has no choice but to recover his pride.

Much to your chagrin, Zayne plucks the phone from your hand, aborting whatever miraculous step he’d been about to take. A corner of his mouth ticks, minutely. He angles your phone away from you, tapping and swiping. His own phone buzzes. Then, he casts the device at the other end of the couch, out of your reach. “I think it’s getting a bit late for screens.” He murmurs. Fingers smooth up and over the swell of your hips. His long arms uncoil from your waist, releasing you as he leans back. Leaving you with a lonesome chill.  “And you ought to be going to bed.”

Is that…rejection? Has he just been humouring you up until this point?

You tilt your head. “I’m sorry. Is this not okay?”

“This is fine.”

He looks at the fireplace. Stoic as ever.

“Then what?” You frown.

He doesn’t respond.

Your throat runs dry. Dread creeps up through your heart.

“Hey. Talk to me.” You urge, smoothing your fingers along his jaw, and he leans into your palm.

Seconds pass. Zayne finally regards you again. There’s an acknowledging incline of his head — almost a polite bow. A pre-emptive apology for what he’s about to say. 

“What happens after this?” He asks. “Do we part ways at the train station in the morning and the next time we see each other, it’ll be as doctor and patient?”

Oh.

“Is that what we are to you?” You ask, not entirely sure if you want to know.

He dodges the question the best way he knows how: with rationality. “I feel that if that scenario is what you want, we should say goodnight. My understanding of our relationship won’t change, I promise you, but if this goes further, at least one of us is going to feel differently. It would be better if there were no misunderstandings between us.”

Something tightens in your chest. Something dreadful and lovely all the same, anxiety and anticipation at the prospect of a tipping point, at least before saying goodbye. Trust Zayne, of course, to turn to smoke and mirrors when it comes to a confession of feelings, but you’ve known him long enough to see how far out of his comfort zone all of this is.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” You ask, aborting an attempt on his part to avert his gaze with a finger beneath his chin.

His expression remains inexplicable. Then, there’s that little tilt of his head. The quirk of an eyebrow. “Your assumption is correct.”

The apprehension that’s been building in the back of your mind disperses the moment he says it. Your resolve all but disappears.  “My understanding,” You begin, reaching up to cup your hand over the other side of his face, “is that I’ve wanted you ever since I walked into that restaurant last year.”

Zayne doesn’t hesitate. His mouth finds yours in a heartbeat. Previously unsure hands pull you against him, locking you in his embrace. He’s so awfully gentle about it all despite your combined strength. Such a gentleman. It comes as no surprise that he shudders at the intrusion of your tongue past his lips — what does surprise you is how quickly he catches up to your pace. Inviting you in. Slipping an arm lower to brace your weight, and you feel yourself being pulled up off of his cock, just until only the head remains at your entrance. 

The loss of him has you incensed. He keeps you from sinking back down, and your protesting whines are suffocated with another kiss. All he’s left you with to express yourself is your hands, and you seize the opportunity, combing your fingers through his hair and tugging, just slightly at the roots.

He breaks away with a little noise. Not pained, but shocked. Another one of his spots, you reason, and he’s just as displeased that you’ve found it. 

“You don’t know when to quit.” Zayne pants. His fringe dusts your forehead. “What — what were we saying about bad behaviour going unrewarded?”

You’re too mindless right now to play any games. There’s no more thrill of the build that you can handle. Not after this long. 

You break, instantly. 

“Please —“ You whimper, almost trembling in his grip, trying in vain to take him back in again. “Zayne, I need it — please—“

Zayne relents right away. He gives you what you want, lowering you, burying himself in you to the hilt. Then he lifts you again, building into a steady rhythm.

”You’re so — you’re so frustrating.” He manages between kisses. “Should’ve told me this is all it takes for you to do as you’re told.”

More. You need more. Heavenly as it is, it’s not enough, just having him in you. You push back, and Zayne takes the hint. He’s said his piece. He lets you take the lead again without a fight, admiring the view as you roll onto the balls of your feet, gripping the back of the couch to keep yourself stable. The new angle feels deeper, each stroke rolling drifting sharply over your nerves as he brushes that spot inside you. It takes a moment for Zayne to kick into gear, brain short-circuiting as he watches you squat on his cock, taking what you need from him. Then, he leaves you to support your own weight. Fingers wrench at the front of your hoodie, yanking it up to your sternum, and his tongue sweeps a nipple. In the time it takes for you to react, his other hand has snaked between you, between your legs. His thumb rolls over your clit just as he latches onto your nipple and sucks. The keen barely escapes your lips before Zayne’s hand claps over your mouth, continuing his assault. 

It goes from too little to too much. It creeps up on you so fast, so suddenly, and there’s nothing you can do but ride through it. A muffled hum is all the warning you can give him. Your pace staggers as the burn in your thighs catches up to you, but Zayne only goes faster, rubbing merciless little circles into your nerves. His hips roll up into you, compensating as best he can for your loss of control. Finally, the band snaps, and you sob against his hand, spasming around him, tears pricking at your eyes with the intensity of it all. You go positively boneless, and Zayne breaks away just enough to let you collapse into his chest as he carries you through it, breaths quickening as the lingering spasms of your orgasm invoke his own. 

“Fuck, I’m—“ He barely stammers, releasing you only to coil his arms around your torso again, readying to pull out.

“Not going anywhere.” You promise, clinging to him. Your fingers comb through his hair, tugging again, and a whimper dies in Zayne’s throat. He buries his face into the crook of your neck. His hips roll up into you once, twice, thrice more, and then he goes still. Buried in you to the hilt as he tips into oblivion.

He’s so subtle about it that you barely even realise he’s coming. Maybe it’s the effort not to wake Dr. Noah. Maybe it’s like this every time. Having him hold you with such desperate reverence while he does his best not to judder in stark contrast to to the feeling of him pulsing within you, you reason you’d like to find out. He hides his face from you throughout, only pulling his forehead from your clavicle when the aftershocks have come and gone.

Zayne looks lovelier than ever like this — coming out of a blissful haze, gazing up at you with cautious adoration. His focus flickers between your eyes and your lips. His chest expands and collapses like he’s like a 5-miler, but his breaths are smooth.

Even now, he’s trying to maintain a cool composure.

“Forgive me.” He mutters, not quite meeting your eye.

Your head tilts. Chasing him. “Huh? Why?”

“I exercised poor judgement. That was rotten of me. I should have known better, given I’ve never prescribed birth control to you.”

“You really think I’d come to you for birth control?” You snort.

Zayne’s brow creases. An incredulous look totally undermined by how positively wrecked he looks right now. “I am  your physician. Or has your other doctor friend decided to become real after all?”

Your fingers comb through his hair again. Despite a pleasant sigh on his part at the sensation, his expression remains steeled.

“Hey.” You finally manage to capture his gaze, only for any tells to evaporate. “Could you tell me something?”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Are you more jealous that I might have had sex with someone who wasn’t you, or that I might have gone to another doctor?”

Zayne considers his answer for a long moment. His head tilts in that particular way it does when he has to make a decision, eyeing you expectantly. Punishment for daring to push him out of his comfort zone.

He presses a hand to your forehead. 

A thoughtful hum escapes him.

“Curious. Your temperature’s dropping. On second thought, you should stay another day so I can observe you.”

“You’re avoiding the question!”

“Here. I’ll keep you warm. You can install those camera filters on my phone to pass the time.”

[temis-de-leon]

Replaced MC AU/AU - V.3 - P.1

Characters: demon brothers, Diavolo, Barbatos, male! MC and crushing! male! NES (MC x NES)

Main Masterlist

Replaced MC AU/AU Masterlist (check the other versions and learn more about the NESs!)

Intro (gn!reader) , Part 2

CW: Solomon is mentioned, jealous and mean brothers, black cat x golden retriever behavior i think, one single kiss, a bit ambiguous at the end, not very angsty really, NES x MC centered

A/N: my favourite version of NES and MC by far, I enjoyed writing this a lot. However, my pc came out as homophobic and decided not to connect to any WiFi for this chapter, so I won't be able to update the links nor the masterlist until next week. Also, some people aren't properly tagged once again because I can't find their blogs for some reason?? So so sorry for that, but I don't know what to do about it.

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NES was… someone they didn't expect. Unknowingly infuriating, always distracted and too unbothered to care about any of his surroundings. He was a disaster that enjoyed living in disaster and, if they weren't threatened by his presence, Satan and Belphegor would love his insolence.

Barbatos remembered an occasion, one moment from the second week of NES's attendance at RAD, where Lucifer gave him an earful for his ‘impropriety and insulting attitude towards the uniform’. Mammon had been there too, shirt out of his pants and jacket nowhere near closed, backing his brother up.

NES’s pristine appearance lasted only two periods before MC saw him chocking under his tie and laughed at him in sympathy. After that, he'd only wear the uniform ‘the Lucifer way’ if MC was there to eventually mess up the outfit.

And how could the eldest brother object to that?

“They need to loosen up, Lucifer”

MC always had the last word.

Solomon found the situation hilarious. Witnessing the brothers competing against each other in search of MC's attention was one thing, but adding NES to the equation? Yes, Barbatos had to somewhat agree. It was funny.

Who had been cooking for hours in the kitchen if not NES trying to make a quick snack for his fellow human? And who was the first one to leave the House of Lamentation each morning, already waiting next to MC’s seat by the time everyone else arrived?

Mammon called him a simp. Asmo liked to call them both the kettle and the pot.

And while, yes, Lucifer was the one and only Avatar of Pride, none of the brothers were able to admit just how big of a deal NES was becoming.

When would it be too late?

.

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The Demon Prince's birthday arrived and the mandatory celebration was as grandiose as one could expect. Everything was bright and full of laughter, the streets cramped with food stalls, demons and witches alike throwing mesmerizing magic tricks for the children, acrobats, costumes, music…

At one point MC considered handcuffing himself to NES. Even Luke was easier to manage!

Fortunately, Beel ended up finding him playing darts with a succubus and her partners. Unfortunately, MC seemed to be the only one who wanted to check if he was okay.

It was becoming… draining.

Not NES, of course. Sure, he was a handful, but none of his mistakes were intentional. Everything he did came from naiveness and ignorance, being new to the Devildom, and what he lacked in common sense he made up in enthusiasm.

At least he didn't steal his valuables and he’d never threatened to kill him or eat his heart, something MC still thought about frequently. The worst thing NES ever did to him was throw them both to the ground when he tried to slide on the floor at full speed. And he still apologized for that from time to time.

Did the brothers ever apologize for all the things they did or said? The way they used to look at him? He couldn't remember.

Now they were doing the exact same thing to NES. Treating him like an unwanted guest instead of the roommate they insisted on having, turning down every single one of his ideas, including the good ones, and very passively threatening him in a condescending tone, as if they could impress MC with that.

Maybe it was a demon thing? Or rather regular jealousy brought to a dangerous level?

Whatever the reason, MC didn't waste any time sitting them in the living room and chewing the hell out of them, something that enraged Lucifer and put a strain in their relationship, still making it difficult to make small talk, but of course none of them would back down. The rest of the brothers weren't so obvious showing their annoyance, but it was still there.

The good thing was that, as long as MC was there, NES wouldn't be the receiving end of any bullshit. The bad thing was that MC didn't know what was going on behind his back. And NES, bless his soul, was never willing to tell him if any of them made him uncomfortable.

It was draining and NES gave him a sense of peace, but the brothers missed him and they wanted to monopolize his time, but MC wanted to spend time with his new friend and that made the brothers angry and jealous, which made MC anxious, which made NES worry.

Every factor made the situation worse. The brothers were too much, NES was too good for the Devildom and MC was too done with everything.

However, the time passed surprisingly fast as they sang Happy Birthday to Diavolo, eating in the midst of it all, dancing with each other and talking like they used to do before the ridiculous ordeal, albeit with a subtle tension that limited their topics of conversation.

They even ignored NES! Which was better than any other option!

So, once the voices toned down and the guests divided themselves into small groups, MC forced himself to whisk Diavolo away for a moment and have a serious talk, Barbatos following close and listening with a curious glance.

That proved to be nothing but a waste of time.

“It's too soon to take conclusions, MC. I'm sure the brothers just need time. After all, remember your first year here!”

He did remember. That's why he was so worried.

And why did Diavolo talk to him like that? He was 100% sure Lucifer insulted NES to no end anytime he had more than one horn of Demonus. What did they call NES in the privacy of their office? What did they think while they talked to him and faked respect? What were they plotting when they looked MC in the eyes and promised him they wouldn't threaten NES anymore?

Too many lies.

“Alo?”

But then… NES smiled so easily… Like none of that bothered him. Luckily, MC didn't mind caring in his behalf. He wondered if being able to save someone from the fate he had last year was the root of all his actions.

“You look so worried, you're gonna get all wrinkly! Not like you'd look bad, but if you're going to have wrinkles, won't you rather have them in your eyes? Like, from smiling too much, you know?”

He did smile then, imitating NES’s caring expression.

“There you are, handsome! You're gonna be the envy of all in 90 years!”

“Do you really think I'm going to live that much?”

“God, I hope so”

They laughed softly, but it still sounded too loud. MC looked out for the brothers, checking their positions in the ballroom before grabbing NES’s hand and dragging him to one of the balconies. He preferred not having the moment tarnished.

“Good idea! Too hot in there…"

“Don't lie to me”

“Wha…?”

MC stared at him quite sternly, although trying not to look to much like Lucifer, but he needed an answer.

“Do they still bother you? Do they threaten you? Do they ignore you? What do they do?”

“Whoa, whoa, MC. Here comes the frown again…”

He raised his hands, caressing MC’s frown until it softened. His touch was warm and soft and it made MC lean towards him, not wanting it to end. When he opened his eyes again, unknowingly closing them before, NES stayed in that position.

There was silence for a few seconds, interrupted only by the violins, the harps, the pianos and other instruments serenading them under the moonlight. NES could only stare at MC’s lips for a fragment of a second before someone grabbed the scruff of their necks with poorly hidden aggressiveness and brought them back to the ballroom.

MC raised his gaze in fury, bending down to help NES get up again. He expected to see red eyes and black feathers, but, to his surprise, what stared back at him were purple eyes and a long bovine tail.

He wanted to scream at him, to ask what the actual fuck was wrong with him. Would he had acted the same if it was one of his brothers instead of NES? Would he had such hate in his eyes?

But people were staring, very obviously amused at the sight of two humans being put back in place.

MC would have to wait.

.

.

“NES! What happened?!”

MC watched as the boy waved at him, hanging upside down where Mammon usually spent countless hours. His arms were tied behind his back and the rope covered his body in a way that surely left no room for the blood to circulate properly. His head already looked dangerously red and MC knew he couldn't leave him there for too long unless he wanted him to have permanent damage.

“I think I failed my last test, but I don't really remember”

“What do you mean you don't remember?”

“Well, I'm very dizzy right now, but I'm sure it's okay. Lucifer will get me out of here soon enough”

Or he won't.

MC sighed, cursing in silence before studying the thick ropes and the tight knots. He knew he wouldn't be able to untie him by hand and he wouldn't be surprised if the kitchen suddenly lacked knives, no doubt the result of Lucifer's pettiness and sadism.

“Wait for me here, okay? I have to get something to cut the ropes…”

“Wait, wait! MC!”

He turned around, patiently staring at his loopy smile and cloudy eyes. He couldn't wait for too long, but maybe he could indulge a couple of minutes.

“What?”

NES briefly looked away, his embarrassment gaining MC’s attention. Now that was a rare sight.

“Have you seen Spiderman?”

His heart stopped for a second and he felt his cheeks getting hot. His hand, previously grasping his hip, fell to his side and made him lose balance.

“You can say no, of course. We can forget about this and I won't get offended. A little sad maybe, but I can manage. I like you too much to stop liking you for a kiss. Does that sound weird? You get me, right?”

His rambling gave MC the opportunity to go down a couple of steps in the staircase and align his face in front of NES’s. The position was weird and staring at his chin was an experience he didn't know he would get the chance to live, but he didn't care.

It wasn't until he finally kissed him mid-sentence that he noticed a figure peeking around the corner, eyes staring without blinking and jealousy ready to made itself known.

Accepting the challenge, MC closed his eyes and grasped NES’s hair, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.

Dinner that night would be fucking awkward.

.

.

.

Taglist: : @stfuchaase @k1-an @meggs-wonderland @kkeromenoo @va109 @marvelous-maniac @cruzerforce4256 @blarsh @marathedemonoverlord @junni-berry @arylleb @b-a-m-2006 @jonielunar @piercedddriver @cosmidaydreaming @bluegrey02 @anxious-chick

[devildomwriter]

Dancing With the Devil | Diavolo x Reader

AFAB! Reader | 5.5K Words

This takes place during the first year of the exchange program. MC is shy and a little awkward around their long time crush, Diavolo only to find his feelings are fully reciprocated in a dance of passion

CW: Explicit sex

*If this story is familiar I had it on my previous blog and it’s on my wattpad*

"I'm sure I can get some kind of sexual gratification just by staring if I try hard enough," you mumbled as you leaned on the palace counter gossiping with Asmo.

He laughed and patted you on the back.

"I've been trying for that one for a while," he sighed, admiring the prince, letting his eyes linger over his v-line.

"Such a sexy outfit, too," you sighed, and Asmo nodded.

You and the brothers and other exchange students were attending a spring ball at the castle, watching Diavolo laugh with Lucifer, Barbatos, and a few nobles you didn't recognize. Beelzebub entered the kitchen then, and you quickly shut up about your little crush on the prince; however, Asmo did not.

"Each time I get cuddly with him, Lucifer brings out his whips."

"Oh yikes, ...you think he'd...?"

"Use them on you? I'm sure he'd only do that in the bedroom," he grinned wickedly, and you slapped his arm.

"You always say stuff like that about your own brothers, you weirdo," and he began to laugh while Beelzebub dug trough the fridge behind you both.

You turned around and watched him as he began stuffing things in his mouth.

"Umm...Beelzebub don't you think Lucifer will get mad?"

He turned around and tried to speak with his mouth full of food, but neither you or Asmo understood what he was trying to say.

"Beelzebub finish chewing first please," Asmo sighed, and Beelzebub swallowed everything down in one gulp, which was mildly impressive if not also terrifying.

"Whatcha doing in the kitchen with MC, hm?" Mammon asked as he strutted towards the three of you.

Beelzebub stood up, and Mammon jumped a little, having noticed his other brother from behind the kitchen island.

"Geez Beel, ya know yer gonna get in trouble with Luci-"

"What are you four doing in here?" you heard Lucifer growl, and you turned around nervously to look at Lucifer, Diavolo standing with an unamused face behind him.

"Uh-"

Before Mammon could finish talking, Lucifer glared him down, and Mammon ran from the room.

"Talking with my dear MC," Asmo smiles innocently, tilting his head to the side.

Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed as he looked at Beel.

"Beelzebub? What makes you think you can steal the food from Lord Diavolo's fridge?" He growled, and Asmo took your arms and led you from the room.

You nearly brushed Diavolo's arm as you passed, and he glanced at you for a moment. You could feel his eyes on you as you were lead back to your table.

Solomon, Simeon, Luke, Leviathan and Belphegor were sat at the table. Solomon was observing people while Luke and Simeon talked, Leviathan played on a portable game device, and Belphegor snored next to his plate.

"Beel's gonna eat full, huh?" Mammon asked, appearing from nowhere. Asmo glared at him and took his seat next to you, stroking your arm gently. Mammon was pissed off by this and sat on your other side, tugging your arm to lean into him, and you sighed.

"He really couldn't wait a few minutes until dinner was served, huh?"

"That's Beel for you," Belphegor murmured, half awake.

Levi nodded, not taking his eyes off his device.

You glanced back to where Diavolo has been and noticed he was no longer by Lucifer's side but welcoming latecomers.

Who would dare arrive late for a royal event? You rolled your eyes as he bent over the succubus's hand and kissed it as a formality. Hopefully, it was just a formality.

Lucifer dragged Beelzebub out from the kitchen and marched to your table while the other brothers tensed up at his arrival.

"But it was really good-"

"That is no reason to steal from his majesty," Lucifer barked, and Beel looked at the ground moping while Belphie rubbed his shoulder.

Lucifer turned his attention to you, sat between Asmo and mammon.

"This is not the seating arrangement, return to your seats," he ordered through grit teeth, and Mammon and Asmo reluctantly returned and waited in the right seats while Lucifer glared them down to make sure they all stayed in place.

"MC, Simeon, Luke, Solomon; my lord requests you dine at his table once dinner is served," Barbatos said with a bow as he approached the table.

Luke looked annoyed, but Simeon smiled as he was used to speaking with Diavolo. Solomon smiled, eyes closed as he likely plotted something, and you turned beet red.

Asmo snickered, and Lucifer glared.

"What is so amusing, Asmodeus? Is there something I should know about?" He interrogated, and Asmo raised his hands and shook his head.

"Of course not," he said sweetly and flicked his eyes to meet yours for a moment.

You felt your ears burning and tried not to express your nervousness. You were always able to disguise your nervousness around Diavolo. He was an amazing friend to you, but you couldn't deny the way he made you feel when you were in private.

Every time you saw him, you wondered if it would be your chance, if you ever got one. Unfortunately, tonight it would seem you'll be sitting by the angels as well, and you'd feel a lot worse for thinking such things about the future demon king when around them.

Lucifer looked surprised by his lord's request as it wasn't originally planned but sighed and turned to you as you got up slowly and made your way to Diavolo.

Diavolo made the announcement dinner would be served, and everyone made their way to their assigned seats.

You weren't sure which one to take this time, but Diavolo pulled out the chair next to himself, and your heart skipped a beat as you sat down.

You smiled up at him and mouthed 'thank you' as he addressed the audience.

Barbatos announced what was being served, and there were whispers of excitement around the room as the butlers and kitchen servers walked out in line to bring each table its meal.

Everyone resumed their conversations, and Diavolo smiled at you. You smiled back, hoping you weren't blushing and your eyes lit up in excitement as the food reach your table.

Diavolo chuckled, and you gave him an inquisitive look.

"And just what’s so funny?" He teased.

"Your eyes light up exactly as Beelzebub's do whenever you are served food here," he observed, and you blushed.

"Well who doesn't like food?"

"Everyone likes food, MC, you just like it a lot," Luke agreed, and you sighed in defeat.

Simeon and Luke silently prayed over their meal while Solomon, Diavolo, and you dug in. "The last time we ate here, Solomon nearly killed us," you reminisced, and a shiver went down everyone's spine, even Diavolo looked disturbed by the memories.

Solomon just chuckled to himself, still smiling.

"And Asmo didn't even warn us," Luke mumbled.

"Speaking of Asmodeus, MC, you seem quite fond of him?" Diavolo asked.

"D-Diavolo?" You gasped and Simeon laughed.

"What? Is it not common knowledge?"

You turned to the others and asked, "does it seem like Asmo, and I are fond of each other?"

They each nodded, as did Barbatos when he approached to take his seat in Diavolo's other side.

"What? No way we aren't like that at all? He's like a gal pal sort of person to me. He does my hair and nails and we gossip and talk about boys and stuff - it's really nothing romantic at all-" you explained hurriedly, and Simeon laughed.

"So you talk about boys you've met here in the Devildom then?" Solomon pressed, and your face was visibly red.

"Well-I-"

Luke seemed annoyed, but the others were amused. You turned around and mouthed 'Hel͏p me' to the brothers' table where most of them were watching you intently.

Asmo gave a thumbs up, and you wanted to murder him; that was such a clear sign he knew something about one of the men at the table, and Diavolo caught onto it as he gave you an amused grin.

You facepalmed and stuffed your face with food to avoid the topic.

Diavolo asked Simeon, Luke, and Solomon about purgatory hall, studying methods, people at the school, everything you would normally ask an exchange student. So why did he ask you something so blunt? Was it just because it came up?

As soon as you heard Diavolo's hearty laugh, you were filled with an intense desire. This time purely romantic, he was so hot and so adorable, how could you possibly keep yourself away from this man.

"MC, I'm quite surprised I must admit that the brothers have not attempted to claim you in some way?" Diavolo suddenly brought up, much to everyone else’s surprise.

"What the-? If I may ask my lord why is it you seem so curious about my love life or lack thereof," you nearly choked on your food as the other watched in amusement, including Barbatos, who gave a knowing grin.

"You are our only,” he glanced at Solomon “…regular human exchange student, so it had me quite curious is all, especially since they've all changed so much since meeting you," he excused. Solomon gave him a confused and offended look but he ignored him in favor of watching your reaction.

Once your meal was finished, you awkwardly made your way back to the brothers, where Lucifer intercepted you and pulled you to the side out of sight.

"What were you speaking of with lord Diavolo," he demanded to know.

"For some reason my love life-"

Lucifer was red with anger, "why would you discuss such a thing!? Honestly MC I expected better of you-"

"He brought it up!" You exclaimed, and he was taken aback.

"What?"

"Yeah, and he kept bringing it back up, trust me I tried to avoid it."

"Why would he do such a thing, how was it brought up?"

"He said Asmo and I seemed close; I don't know?"

He hummed to himself, looking to the side and spun around, making his way to Diavolo, who smiled seeing his friend, and his face became confused when he saw how upset Lucifer seemed to be. You weren't sure what was said, but he simply laughed at his friend and patted his shoulder while Lucifer seemed to be angrily relaying what you'd said. You sighed, hoping you didn't seem like a tattletale. Just then Asmo linked his arm through yours and dragged you even deeper into the shadows of the empty hallways.

"Asmo, what the heck?"

"He so likes you!" He whisper shouted, and you blushed.

"Huh!?"

"I can tell these things MC you know that, you so have to do something. I can't believe you could totally get laid by the prince tonight!"

You turned red and jumped, slapping a hand over Asmo's mouth.

"What the hell, Asmo!?"

"Don't think I forgot about what you told me earlier; sexual gratification and all that, my charm may not work on you, but I know it's what you desire," he teased and smirked leaning in closer to you.

"Asmodeus, MC," you heard Diavolo's voice boom loudly through the halls though he spoke normally. Lucifer followed him closely and glared daggers at Asmodeus.

"Asmo, a word," Lucifer hissed, and Asmo winked at you and pranced after Lucifer.

You were left in the shadows alone with Diavolo, who smiled down at you.

"Did you need to ask me something?" You ask nervously, unsure of what else to say.

"I thought I'd tell you how lovely you look tonight, MC. I'm sure many will be eager to dance with you at the ball."

You blushed and looked away.

"Probably just the brothers like last time, or Solomon..." you thought aloud, and he smiled.

"You've done so much for this exchange program, and for the pillars so far, I cannot think of many ways to express my gratitude but perhaps sharing the first dance of the night with me could prove it to you in some way," he offered, and you gasped.

"R-really? But I have no idea how to dance, I'll be humiliated, and you'll be embarrassed by me-"

"Now why would I be embraced by you, MC, I'm quite proud of you, actually."

"You are?"

"Of course. Did I not just mention how much you've done for the brothers?"

You looked away shyly, extremely happy on the inside, and nodded.

He laughed at how cute you were being and held out his hand for you to take. You took it without questions, and he led you to an empty room.

"Where are we going?"

"The piano room.”

"You have an entire room for a piano?"

"But of course. Where else should I put such a prized possession?" You laughed at his surprised face, as if it were very common to have a room specifically for an instrument.

"So..."

"Why are you going there?" He read your thoughts, "the first dance does not start for an hour. I thought perhaps we could practice our dance to ease your nerves. Quite frankly, I'd also like to get to know you better, and I believe this is a better place to do so then somewhere people will circle around me or in a long dark hallway."

You chuckled and agreed and noticed his eyes light up a bit when he heard your laugh. The same way you always reacted when you heard his. Was it stupid to think whatever feelings you had could come to fruition? This man was ruler of the demons, the next devil himself; and you...you were a struggling human college student with a lot of issues.

After turning through many corridors and climbing several stairs which admittedly exhausted you, especially in heels, you reached two large doors and were surprised by the interior when he pushed them open.

"This isn't the piano room," you stated, and he blushed.

"I did intend to bring you there, but...I believe the view from my balcony is a much better place to dance and to talk." He said, seeming a little embarrassed, and you walked by his king-sized bed and to his balcony through two huge glass doors.

He was right. The view was breathtaking, and you smiled in awe. He watched you adoringly as you twirled, attempting to look innocently beautiful, but instead, you fell over.

He rushed to your side as you laughed at yourself to stop you from crying for embarrassing yourself like that in front of your crush.

"MC, are you alright?" He asked and lifted your dress to check your ankle. He looked it over and determined it wasn't injured in any way.

He helped you to your feet, and you hid your face in his chest, still blushing like mad. He laughed and ran his fingers through his hair.

"As much as I'd love to dance with you, I'm way too embarrassed to do something like that in front of everyone..." you mumbled sadly.

He detected the sadness in your voice and nodded, understanding your decision. Humans could be so fragile and so easily embarrassed; it was a little entertaining.

"There is still an hour until my presence is required, is there something else you'd like to do? Perhaps we could take a stroll in my garden? Or I could show you the view from the highest point in the castle," he suggested.

"I don't understand why you're being so kind to me, Diavolo. Shouldn't you be meeting with nobles and hosting and such," you trailed off, and he tilted your head to look at him, cupping your cheek and smiling sadly.

"I've done so for thousands of years. I can afford to miss an hour," he comforted, and you brightened up.

"Okay, if you're sure," you smiled, and he nodded and took your hand in his leading you away from the balcony.

"Then what do you have in mind, MC?" He asked with a somewhat mischievous smile, and you felt the butterflies doing backflips in your stomach as you stammered.

"I-I don't know. Is there something you'd like to do?"

"Why, yes, there is. Though I'll need your consent," he smiled, and your heartbeat erratically.

"Of course," you agreed, not a hundred percent certain what he'd ask but hopeful.

Every second you'd spent silently pining until that moment was worth it as he leaned into you, eyes closed, and sealed your lips together.

When you parted, you stared at him with joyful surprise, and he seemed relieved you weren't opposed.

"D-do you think we could do that again...for maybe like the whole hour?" You joked nervously. He laughed and agreed, this time leading you to his bed.

You sat on the edge heart beating out of your chest, and he sat next to you and brought your lips back to his.

You eased into the kiss, and he wrapped his arm around you to support you as he deepened the kiss. Your lips would only separate a brief moment before reuniting desperately. Diavolo's hand squeezed your waist, and you could feel his long black nails as he pushed you backwards into the mattress. You let his tongue slip past your lips, wisely giving him immediate access. The prince was likely never denies anything, and besides, you didn't want to deny him. This was heaven in the middle of hell.

As his tongue tangled with yours excitedly, he reached one hand to the waist of your dress and hiked the skirt up enough to reach for the waistline of your tights and began slipping them off. That's when you could confirm this was going to be more than kissing, and your thoughts began to race uncontrollably as your tights and heels came off together. He wasted no time in slipping off your underwear, and you shivered at the cold air against your inner thighs. You gave him a confused look, and he laughed lightheartedly.

"I assume you don't want to wear wet underwear for the rest of the night?" He chuckled, and you turned red and agreed as he brought your lips back to his. He slid his hands under your dress and held your waist, pressing it against his.

He was still fully clothed, and you didn't find it fair. As if he could genuinely read your mind, he transformed back into his demon-self, his natural self. You admired his silky red hair and, for some reason, very sexy horns as he continued to kiss you. He bit your lip playfully and left a trail of kisses from your mouth to your neck, sensually kissing about the collarbone, sucking, licking, and biting the exposed skin.

You moved your hands to his bare chest, feeling his muscles and sift skin and purred happily to yourself. He left your mouth for a moment, just long enough to remove his fur infinity scarf and his jewelry, placing them delicately on the dresser by his bed where he retrieved a condom. He looked back and you and stared before you realized you were still spreading your legs completely exposed.

"D-Diavolo," you stuttered, and he chuckled to himself and slid off his leather boots and baggy pants, revealing his demon form had no underwear underneath, and you bit your lip staring at his firm ass.

"Why don't we remove that dress before it gets ruined," he suggested though it was more of a firm request.

You nodded and unzipped the back enough to slip it off. He crawled back onto the bed in front of you and placed you on his leg, bringing his lips back to yours as he unhooked and slid off your bra.

He threw back the covers and covered your exposed back with a sheet. The curtains were closed, and the door was locked, but he still seemed precautious with you. Just in case Lucifer angrily threw open the door, suspecting you both.

He placed one hand in the small of your back, and the other held the back of your head as his lips trailed back to your neck. His hands began to roam your body and feel your curves, squeeze your hips, delicately brush the pads of his fingers down your spine. You were surprised how delicate this giant of a man could be, and you realized he must have experience. You grew hotter at the idea and began kissing his neck as he left hickeys on yours. Your lips let slip a soft moan, and his grip on your hips tightened as he flipped you over, underneath him again, chests mere inches apart. He was trying to control his breathing, but his heavy breaths were an indicator he was struggling to hold back instead of taking you immediately. But he knew this wouldn’t just be painful in general but would be even worse for a fragile human. His fingers brushed over your cheek, and he turned his attention to your chest. His eyes lingering for several seconds before he supported his weight with one hand and used the other to lightly massage your breast. His wings flapped for a brief second, giving away his excitement, and you moved your hands to the back of his neck, bringing him closer to you. He met your eyes; his were serious and curious. He was concentrating hard on not harming you and looking for any signs of fear or hesitation in your expressions, but your smile was enough to ease him. He moved his mouth to your chest careful not to hit your face with his protruding horns, and you tilted your head back to avoid them as you ran your hand through his hair, massaging his head as he began trailing his tongue around your tit, squeezing it lightly with his hand before taking it in-between his teeth.

You squirmed and whimpered, and he looked up to make sure you weren't in pain, but your gentle moans as he continued reassured him you'd be fine.

You were so caught up in the way he made you feel you realized you weren't verbally encouraging him or telling him what felt best, which would likely help him instead of him cautiously taking each step so slowly. "Diavolo," you moaned softly, face heated, and he paused.

"Don't stop, you feel so good," you encouraged, and his small bites around your tits became a bit harder before he moved to the breast that'd been left unattended. Normally he'd massage one while licking the other, but his weight was too much for a human. He switched hands and twirled his thumb around the areola as you continued to moan his name.

"MC," his voice deepened as he moaned, and your heart leaped. For so long you wanted to hear him moan your name, now you were under his sheets, your bodies entangled as he moved his hand down between your thighs.

You felt his finger brush against your opening and moaned, body pleading for more contact. He let your squirm and laughed as you did so, entertained by your neediness. He inserted a finger slowly and was pleased to find you were already very wet.

"Do you want me that badly, dear?" He asked, and you blushed but nodded, biting your lip. He found this sexy and keeping his hand between your legs he kissed your lips, propping himself up as he pulled back the sheets to get a better look at you. Hit by the cold air again, you shivered and moaned. He moved his eyes over your body before looking at himself, hoping you'd follow his eyes, which of course, you did.

You weren't just surprised by his size but legitimately scare and full of many questions.

"Umm-that's?"

"Will you be alright," he asked teasingly, and you nodded, red-faced.

It had to be a little more than twelve inches in length, and you weren't sure how much you were even capable of taking in. His dick was a sight to behold, and one reason was it certainly wasn't human, the veins were thick, and the shaft had small circular bumps that acted like barbs. Once he was inside of you entirely, he wouldn't be able to pull out until he came. The condom he'd grabbed earlier would likely prevent this, but of course, you couldn't tell. Each time you opened your mouth, all that came out was a moan.

You nearly formed words until he inserted a second finger inside of you, and his other hand pushed your head into his chest. You ran your hands over his pecs and left small kisses on his collarbone and chest. A moan built in his throat, and he rested his head atop yours as he made a scissoring motion with his fingers. You squeezed your legs together, and he grinned as you squirmed in his embrace. He tightened his grip around you and inserted a third finger. His fingers were long and large, and the pointed black nails scratched lightly against your inner walls in all the right places. As he inserted a fourth finger, he moved his thumb to your clit and began massaging it in circles. You were a mewling mess in his grasp, and he let out an instinctive grunt.

He was desperately holding himself back as he pumped his fingers in and out quickly. He moaned your name into your hair and kissed the top of your head, gritting his teeth together, pumping faster and faster until a wave of heat ran through your body, and your eyes squeezed shut in the intensely pleasurable warmth. He felt you cum over his fingers and grinned wickedly. He held your stare as he raised his fingers to his lips and sucked off your juices, you blushed furiously, shocked that the prince had this kind of side to him. His grin was loving but also a little sadistically curious. Probably because he was about to fuck your lights out. He licked his lips and moved his hand back between your legs, still holding your gaze lovingly.

"MC," he began in a husky voice that made you shiver.

"Y-yes?"

"Do you think you can take me within you now?" His words were drawn out and held back an anxious growl.

You nodded, though you were unsure.

"I see," he smiled and sat up quickly to retrieve and roll the condom over his length, though it didn't cover his shaft completely it would be enough to stop most cum from pouring into you, and the idea had you becoming wet again already.

Diavolo's eyes darted to the clock on his wall to make sure he had enough time and was pleasantly surprised he had more than enough time to make you squeal and scream beneath him.

He admired your form. A small human brave enough to let the demon prince slam his cock inside of them. They likely didn't know how hard it could be for them or the pricking pain of the barbs, but they were ready nonetheless. He moved over you and spread your legs apart, he admired your throbbing pussy and looked back to your trembling body, nervous but desperate for him, and he moved his hips to yours, the head of his dick pressed against you. He used one hand to spread your entrance apart enough to fit his head inside, and he mumbled to himself through grit teeth, "You're so tight-."

He slowly moved his dick deeper inside you, taking deep breaths not even halfway in to stop himself from suddenly bucking into you. He was big enough to make you bleed, and that's the last thing he wanted. He'd wanted to do this with you for so long, and seeing you completely unaware of Asmo's attempts on you that night made his temptation too much to hold back any longer. He wanted you himself, and he finally had you. This thought unintentionally made him buck his hips, his cock much deeper inside you now, and you let out a gasp that turned into a moan as your body instinctively bucked towards his.

Diavolo slowly began to pull back, pumping into you slowly at half-length, he used one hand to pinch and roll your clit between two fingers, making you wetter than you already were. You reached for him, and he blushed and leaned into you, finally ramming his hips into yours. You threw your head back and instantly came again much to his surprise. But he immediately gave you a playful smirk that had you the shade of blood in embarrassment. You moved your hands to clutch his hair, and he focused seriously again, moving back and forth slowly, pumping in and out, mumbling about how tight you were until his pace and strength picked up enough to throw your body forward. You were held against his hips as you and the bed shook with every thrust, the bed frame beginning to hit the wall loudly enough to echo down the halls. He spread your legs further apart, reaching deeper inside as he grunted and moaned, slamming his cock in and out of you as your body contorted in the sheets, nails digging into his head. Unable to properly grip his hair, your hands moved to his horns and kept them there.

You could feel the small barbs of his dick as they sent you to heaven and back, you could feel every vein as he pulsed inside you.

Your vision blurred for a moment as you screamed his name, unable to control yourself. Hips bucking together hard enough to bruise and break, you were a wailing mess beneath him. His movements became sloppy, and when he watched your face twist in pleasure as you came again, his delight sent him over the edge, and with one final buck of his hips you gasped for air as the barbs stopping scratching, and he slowly pulled out, condom overflowing with his semen.

You both paused a moment, breathing frantic and held each other's gaze. Diavolo reverted to his human form and crawled next to you, laying on his chest, hugging his pillow as he watched your pink face struggling to breathe. Your cheeks were stained with tears and your hair more tangled than a bird’s nest as your chest heaved, taking in as much air as it could while you came down from your high.

He chuckled as he watched you, unsure of what to say. He'd just completely broken his composure, he'd ignored his title and interfered in his own exchange program just to get a taste of you. But he still wanted more of you. He ran his hand through your loose strands of hair and moved them out of your face. He sat up and threw the sheets off his bed, leaving you exposed again. You struggled to sit up but fell back into the bed. He helped you up and carried you in his arms to his private bathroom. He sat you underneath the showerhead and left the room to get something. He came back with your folded clothes and sat them on the sink next to his.

"My hair and make up," you mumbled, and he laughed.

"That's an easy fix, dear," he soothed you and turned the warm water on as he joined you in the shower, washing off the sweat and everything else. He admired the bruises and bites he'd left on your skin and helped you stand up, leaning into his chest, he held your hips as you were unable to stand on your own.

You felt the water run over you, and Diavolo comb his fingers through your matted hair. You were both silent, not sure what to say.

"So..." you trailed off, hoping it'd prompt him to speak.

"So..." he replied, taking a moment to think of what to say next.

"Did you enjoy yourself," he asked, already knowing the answer but wanted to hear it from you as you nodded shyly in agreement.

"Ye-yes," you stammered, and he hugged you closer as he ran a bar of soap over your arms.

"Good, we should do this again soon," he added, and you jumped in surprise.

Really? Lord Diavolo, your crush, a future demon king, wanted to have sex with you?

"Really?"

"Yes....But can we agree on one thing," he asked as you finished washing.

"Yes?"

"Lucifer can never find out."

You both laughed and nodded before sweating at the idea of what he'd do to you both. Diavolo rubbed your back and helped you to the sink where you dried off, and he used a spell to redo your hair and makeup as it was, though he didn't bother hiding the marks he left on you.

You both returned to the party a few minutes before he was to make his entrance, but when people asked for you to dance, you had to decline even though Mammon seemed depressed at rejection. This was only because you'd done enough dancing that night. Just not the kind of dancing anyone expected.

[kinda-indecisive]

｡･:*:･ﾟ Your Journal ﾟ･:*:･｡

How I imagine the reactions of the LaDS guys when they accidentally find a notebook you (MC) decorated the cover of with their name.

Part 2: The Xavier and Sylus Edition!

.•*¨`*•.•*¨`*•.☆.•*¨`*•.•*¨`*•.☆.•*¨`*•.•*¨`*•.•*¨`*•.☆.•*¨`*•.•*¨`*•.☆.

Xavier

~ ~ There’s nothing weird about it at all ~ ~

You found yourself spending time with Xavier on your days off lately, so naturally you’d grown used to his frequent cat naps during your time spent together. That’s why you didn’t mind when he'd dozed off at the table in the bookstore, leaving your backpack with him to use as a pillow as you browsed the shelves for your next book to share.

You also didn’t think much of the hazy little smile on his face when you’d returned to him, his expression still sleepy and content.

As you went from the bookstore to the restaurant for lunch you did start to grow suspicious by the excessive amount of pats he was giving you. Timid little pets on the top of the head that you first accepted with delight, slowly turning your cheeks hot with embarrassment after the thousandth pat within the hour.

Having stopped at the park to enjoy the sun’s warmth for a little while, you finally mention it.

“You’ve been extremely touchy today.”

“Does it bother you?” he inquires, a hint of concern around his eyes. You quickly reassure him that it doesn’t bother you so much as it embarrasses you. You typically enjoyed when he showed his affectionate side, but today it had all seemed a little excessive.

Hearing this admission, he falls silent, his chin resting on his palm as he looks out at the grass, watching the people in the park with a casual interest.

Though he doesn’t seem hurt, you worry he might have misconstrued what you said.

“What are you thinking about, Xavier?”

He hums softly, continuing to enjoy the sounds of the park. When he finally decides to answer, he turns toward you with his eyes averted and a sheepish look on his face.

“Honestly? I saw your journal today. In the bookshop. I was sneaking some stickers I bought you into the pocket when I noticed your little doodle of a shooting star and a fluffy little bunny. It was cute, so I pulled it out to take a picture of it and saw my name written all over it.”

Your face grows warmer and warmer the more he talks and, by the time he meets your gaze, you look away, covering your face in humiliation.

“You weren’t supposed to see that! That’s so embarrassing!”

You’re surprised when you feel his fingers slide between your palm and your face, gently pulling your hand away so he can see your face, “Embarrassing? What’s so embarrassing about it? We’re friends, aren’t we?”

Stunned for a moment, you shake off your surprise and nod, “Of course we are.”

“Then I don’t think it’s weird at all that we think about each other when we’re apart,” he says, his voice a resolute hum as he turns away again, a sleepy smile returning to his face as he watches a bumblebee buzz by.  

.•*¨`*•.•*¨`*•.☆.•*¨`*•.•*¨`*•.☆.•*¨`*•.•*¨`*•.•*¨`*•.☆.•*¨`*•.•*¨`*•.☆.

Sylus

~ ~ Of course he’s going to tease, even if his cheeks are also flushed with a silly sense of satisfaction ~ ~

You arrived at his place looking disheveled and flustered, a look he typically enjoyed on you, though obviously concerning in tonight’s situation. You had somehow managed to shake off Mephisto’s watch and ventured somewhere on your own. Knowing you, he doesn’t like to imagine where you might have gone. And your flustered expression as you walked through his doorway and tossed your duffel bag to the floor left him concerned and in want of an explanation.

An explanation you were stubbornly unwilling to give him.

Instead, you insisted you needed a shower. Like most things, he found it hard to deny you that right. You could tell he was bothered, however, by the way he waved you away without looking at you.

Still, you had the gall to keep him waiting.

Certain that you were testing his patience on purpose, he takes matters into his own hands. He’s holding your duffel bag in his lap with a bored expression when you return.

“Excuse me? What are you doing with my things?”

“You continue to poke around the N109 zone without a care in the world despite witnessing the dangers firsthand. You could at least allow me the reassurance of Mephisto’s watch. Yet you refuse and act coy about it when I ask nicely. You’ve given me no choice but to take matters into my own hands.”

With a bored expression, he reaches into your bag.

You call his bluff.

“Fine. Search all you like, you won’t find anything in there.”

His searching hand pauses for a moment as he gives you a dangerous look. Then, with an exasperated sigh, he removes his hand from the bag and tosses it back to the floor.

Feeling guilty, you suddenly have the urge to tell him a bit of the truth. However, his sudden change in posture as he lowers himself back toward the bag surprises you.

Heat fills your face immediately when you catch sight of what has caught his attention. Of what he so delicately lifts between his fingers and hangs in the air between the two of you.

“My my… what is this, kitten?” he asks, his voice a low rumble and a chuckle.

You dive toward him, but your bathrobe prevents you from performing any other rapid or complex movements. Besides, it’s not easy to take anything from Sylus’s hands in the first place.

“It’s nothing.”

“It definitely looks like something,” he persists, “Tell me, is that supposed to be Mephisto in the right hand corner? He’ll be delighted to see his likeness.”

“Sylus, hand it over. I’m not kidding.”

He allows you to snatch the notebook away from him and you clutch it close to your chest, obstinately stepping away from him and turning your back on him as you leave the room.

You return to the room a moment later to find him sitting where you left him, a smug smile on his face when you enter. You intend to scold him, but are surprised when you see the flush in his own cheeks that he quickly hides by clearing his throat into his hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I randomly had this thought a few months ago when I first started playing, but I hadn't really met Sylus in game yet, so I had to wait until I knew him better to share these. Hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading!

Part 1: Zayne and Rafayel Edition

[lost-in-lamentation]

human world headcanons

a/n: i just know half of the brothers would break into the human world under the excuse of seeing their favourite human, only to be distracted 9 seconds later. and so; human world shenanigans.

═  ˎˊ˗

lucifer.

here's one that doesn't stray from his goal.

lucifer heads straight to your house (without warning).

but he forgets that you have work today; he also does not have the key to your front door.

your neighbours start to wonder if the strange man who has been sitting on your doorstep is lost.

one kind-hearted neighbour sends you a picture of the lonely demon on your porch, along with the message "he's been there for hours."

a fit of laughter and a 20 minute drive later, you embrace lucifer tightly.

"sorry, sorry," you manage to giggle out as he tries to scold you for not having your d.d.d. on you.

lucifer finally relents the harsh glare when you tell him you'll cook a special dinner for him.

═  ˎˊ˗

mammon.

he's distracted in all the right ways.

first, he grabs you a drink from your favourite human world café.

mammon will then head to the grocery store and look for your favourite snacks.

he's so focused on the task at hand that he doesn't notice you side eyeing him from two feet away.

when he finally does notice, he turns on his heel and ducks his head, trying to escape your gaze.

it's too late now, though; you've already got a hand on the edge of his jacket, yanking him towards you.

"mammon. does anyone know you're up here?"

"... you do."

"not good enough!"

═  ˎˊ˗

leviathan.

see, he really wishes he could be distracted.

after all, the human world has so many anime and manga goods stores that he wants to visit.

but being the shut-in he is, he'd rather wait inside your house until you have time to go out.

unlike a certain brother, he remembers the key to your door (mainly because he doesn't want to be stuck waiting outside).

he does also shoot you a quick text before he enters, just in case you're inside and he freaks you out, or in case you're out of the house.

you enjoy having levi over; he doesn't drag you back outside as soon as you've got one foot through the doorway.

but perhaps the real problem is getting him back out.

because, why leave when he can game without his brothers interrupting his boss level speed run?

═  ˎˊ˗

satan.

oh lawd he's NOT coming.

he saw a cat on the road; as far as you know, he's gone forever.

satan only stops when he sees a street library box, curiosity getting the better of him.

it's maybe a few hours later that he remembers to text you of his arrival in your realm.

you call him almost immediately, asking where he is, only for the blonde to respond "i'm not quite sure myself. i followed a cat here."

your eyebrow twitches, and you almost want to give satan a taste of his own wrathful medicine.

"if it helps, the cat was a tortoiseshell."

"how is that supposed to help?!"

═  ˎˊ˗

asmodeus.

luck is on his side today, as his walk to your place takes him right past the shopping district.

it may have also taken him inside a few stores.

meanwhile, you lounge around at home, blissfully unaware.

that is, until lucifer calls you with much urgency in his voice, saying "MC, please tell me asmodeus is with you."

your neighbours can hear you screaming from the inside of your car as you pull out of your driveway.

a part of you is grateful that it's asmodeus at the mall; although he spends, he's not quite as bad as his older brother.

when you finally find the demon in the shopping center, you grab hold of his scarf, dragging him and his bags towards your car.

"MC, wait! i haven't bought a good lip tint for you yet!"

═  ˎˊ˗

beelzebub.

unlike most of his brothers, beel makes it his priority to call you first thing upon arrival.

his second priority is to find the shop where that delicious smell is coming from.

"beel, do NOT move from where you are, or i swear i will call lucifer and have him drag you back to hell himself."

you're glad the shopping and food square is walking (sprinting) distance from your place.

in your panicked rush, you leave your front door wide open, leaving your neighbours to wonder what you're up to this time.

it's a good thing the avatar of gluttony is so tall; you find his orange head standing close to the decorative water fountain in the middle of the square.

"oh, MC. you must be hungry after running like that."

you can only plant your hands on your knees while catching your breath, and beel waits patiently for your approval to go grab a snack.

═  ˎˊ˗

belphegor.

does not call or text you when he heads up to the human world.

you're most likely to come home to him already knocked out cold on your couch.

belphie is a quiet sleeper, so it takes you a few minutes to actually realize that he's there.

when you do realize that he's there, you unwillingly release a yelp, waking up the sloth demon.

belphie's expression shifts from a glare to a smile when he remembers he's in your house and not the house of lamentation.

"welcome home," he mumbles sleepily, stretching his limbs out one by one.

"belphie, how many times do i have to tell you to text me before you come over?"

he shrugs in response, instead dragging you onto the couch for a well deserved nap with him.

a/n: praying that my demon bro bias does not glare anyone in the face with these headcanons. i'm soft for all of them, i swear.

[another-lost-mc]

kisses on the battlefield | solomon x reader

cw: sfw. hurt/comfort. descriptions of canon-typical violence. light angst with a happy ending. gn!reader (referred to as mc, they/them pronouns). wc: 1.7k+

“No, I won't go,” Solomon argued with Diavolo, a large map on the table between them. He was already on edge from the looming danger waiting for them all on the horizon; he wasn't convinced you would be safe if he left you now. He looked to Barbatos for support, but the demon's unreadable expression made him feel even worse about this plan.

You were assigned leadership over the group of witches and wizards sent by the Sorcerer’s Society. You shared an apprehensive look with him as you crossed paths outside the tent. You both wanted to linger, to stay and share one more farewell (in addition to the hurried moments you shared earlier that day), but there wasn't anymore time.

Solomon practically threw his hands up in the air and spun on his heel so he could follow you, Diavolo's orders be damned. He knew the human sorcerers were responsible for defending the eastern quadrant—he'd find you and keep you safe. That was his intention, until Barbatos blocked his way and Diavolo called his name behind him.

Solomon snarled in frustration as he turned back to the demon prince. "The reapers don't need me. Let me pass."

But Barbatos was unmoving, and Diavolo shook his head. “The reapers need your help repairing the damage to the seal that allowed this to happen. We need to stop the hostile force here, before the three realms descend into chaos. Your pacts should give you the additional reinforcements you need.”

With a few exceptions, of course—Asmodeus and Barbatos were both needed elsewhere, and Solomon knew he wouldn't be able to summon them.

Solomon gritted his teeth. "Fine, then I'll bring MC with me. They can assist with repairing the seal." And I can keep an eye on them myself.

Diavolo sighed heavily, and Solomon saw something vulnerable in his eyes, something that looked like regret. “MC is too important to our defenses. The human sorcerers need someone to lead them that they can trust in your place. They're also the only one capable of empowering the Avatars of Sin to bolster our ranks, should we need them to."

Diavolo understood Solomon’s hesitancy. He had a similar conversation with you, privately, before Solomon arrived. You were equally torn about being separated from him and facing the unknown dangers alone. You took less convincing to go along with Diavolo's plan—you knew this was the best course of action, even if you didn't like it.

Unfortunately, there was no guarantee Diavolo could make to you that Solomon would return unscathed while he assisted the reapers with their task. Likewise, there was no promise Diavolo could make to Solomon that even if he returned, you would be unharmed.

“You have my word that I will do everything in my power to keep MC safe,” Diavolo told him seriously. It was the best the demon prince could offer to appease Solomon's doubts, but the oath tasted like ash on his tongue.

Barbatos glanced at Diavolo knowingly behind the sorcerer's back, and the unspoken truth hung between them: Solomon would become their enemy too, should they fail to protect you.

Solomon realized he had little choice. He told himself that he would do this for you, because you deserved better than a future torn apart by war and death. He uttered a curse under his breath and glared venomously at Diavolo before he disappeared.

Solomon and the reapers finally sealed the magical tear that allowed the eldritch beasts to invade from the farthest reaches of the cosmos. He went to the battlefield to find you as soon as Thirteen assured him that their task was complete.

He expected to find you on the eastern front with the other sorcerers, but all he found there was the aftermath of carnage. The ground was broken and scorched by flame and it ran wet with odd, inky-black blood. He realized quickly that the largest battle must've been fought here and his blood froze in his veins.

He finally stumbled on some lingering demons and human sorcerers that were helping evacuate the remaining survivors. As soon as they mentioned a healers' camp set up near RAD, he teleported immediately to the Devildom.

Solomon recognized the battle-weary faces of his demon and angel and human acquaintances when he arrived, but he couldn't bear to stop until he found you.

His heart clenched with equal parts hope and worry when he finally spotted Asmodeus and Simeon speaking together near one of the tents. They both greeted him with relieved expressions despite their dirtied faces and ripped clothing, stained with mud and gore.

"It's good to see you," Simeon said, clasping his shoulder.

Solomon didn't have time for pleasantries. "I just arrived. Where's MC?"

Asmo shook his head. "They're fine. Lucifer and Mammon took them to one of the tents back there," he said, pointing to a small cluster of tents close to the RAD building.

Solomon tried to push past him, but Asmo grabbed his arm. He didn't flinch when Solomon bared his teeth angrily at him. "Let me go."

"Wait," Asmo urged him quietly. "MC's mostly unharmed, but Solomon it was—it was bad."

Icy dread flooded his body all over again. "Tell me."

Diavolo snapped the would-be assassin's neck in his grasp before he flung the limp corpse aside. Not far from him, Barbatos eviscerated an enemy with a slash from the glinting dagger in his hand.

"I don't like this," Lucifer muttered at his side. Diavolo nodded and peered around. The demon army was anxiously waiting, but the invasion they anticipated was nowhere to be seen. He trusted Thirteen's information that the dark, otherworldly threat had broken through the realms' defenses, so where—?

"My lord," Barbatos breathed, staring at something behind him in the distance.

Diavolo turned as a bright red flare shot into the dark sky. Another flare followed, and another, and another after that, until the sky was littered with dozens of fiery wisps of magic. It was a signal to warn the other defensive positions that the intruders were spotted, and they all came from the east.

The wind carried the shrill, foreign language of nightmare creatures as small portals appeared across the battlefield and the monstrous entities charged through and finally began their attack.

In an instant, another large, dark portal opened above the area where you and your fellow sorcerers were stationed. The ground shook as something shot from the portal and engulfed the eastern battlefield in purple flames and black smoke.

Oh, no.

Lucifer grunted at Diavolo's side and suddenly disappeared as the power of your pact summoned him to you. Barbatos was already redirecting forces to aid the human defenders, but Diavolo felt dread pool in his stomach. He took off in flight and slashed at everything in his path, hoping they weren't too late.

Solomon paused outside your tent when he heard Mammon's familiar voice within; he sounded exasperated.

"I don't care whatcha say, Satan says you gotta rest," the Greed demon lectured you.

"Mammon, I promise, I'm okay—"

The ice in Solomon's heart cracked when he finally heard your voice.

You were alive.

"Yeah, we'll see 'bout that. How many fingers am I holdin' up?"

"...three?"

Mammon scoffed. "Lucky guess."

Solomon couldn't wait anymore. He pulled the flap aside and poked his head inside the tent. Mammon was holding three fingers in front of your face, and you were trying to push his hand away. Your face lit up with recognition when they both looked to see who had arrived.

"Look, your boyfriend can talk some sense into ya. I'll see about getting you somethin' to eat." Mammon paused when he was passing Solomon on his way out and leaned towards him. "MC got hit by some type of curse, they were real dizzy for a while. Satan thinks it's worn off, but they need to take it easy. Got it?"

Solomon stared at you but nodded slowly. As soon as Mammon left the tent, he stepped towards your cot in something like a trance. He sat on the edge of the bed and glanced down when you grabbed both his hands in yours.

"I am so happy to see you," you breathed. Your smile trembled and tears dotted your lash line.

Solomon held your hands for a moment before he rested them on your lap and cupped your cheeks instead. He cradled your face in his hands so gently. He didn't know what to say. Words failed him—he was overwhelmed by the possibility of losing you earlier, and now by the relief you were here really here.

His eyes roamed your face desperately, drinking in the sight of you—a battle-worn version of you, perhaps—but in this moment, you were everything to him. He didn't know how to put his feelings for you into words, so he leaned forward and kissed you instead.

You made a surprised noise against his lips, but your fingers grasped weakly at the tattered sleeves of his coat and you drew him even closer. It was less of a kiss and more of a desperate press of your chapped lips against his, but you felt his warm breath fan across your skin and savoured the familiar taste of him on your tongue. It was comforting proof that he was alive—that you both were.

Solomon's body trembled so much it shook the rackety bed you were in, and he broke the kiss with a sob. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, the words raspy with so many emotions. "I never should've left you."

You shook your head and the corners of your lips twitched upward. "I'm grateful that I had such a good teacher," you joked, but it sounded flat to your ears when your tired voice betrayed you.

He leaned forward and buried another sob into the crook of your neck. He crushed your body to his and he hoped the salty tears on your skin and his arms wrapped tightly around you conveyed everything he felt for you—

—he won't ever leave you, and nothing in the three realms or beyond will ever hurt you ever again—

—but all his strangled voice could manage to croak out was a broken, "I love you."

You closed your eyes and smoothed your fingers through his hair, damp with sweat and dirty from the battlefield. His arms squeezed you even tighter, and you smiled despite the tears rolling down your cheeks. "I love you too."

read more: solomon masterlist | obey me! masterlist

[differenteagletragedy]

So yesterday someone requested a swap AU fic with Baxter as the boy who moved across the street, Cove as his friend you met at 13 and Derek as the guy who rented the condo for the summer. I promptly lost my mind, so here is more.

This is the part in Step 3 when everyone goes to the restaurant and Cove tells everyone he's going to get an apartment and he and MC have a moment, except Baxter style.

"Tell your boyfriend to stop fixing his hair and come on, I'm hungry," Liz said impatiently.

"He's not my boyfriend and he has his process," you replied, looking across the street at your best friend's house.

You, Liz, your moms and Lee were all outside, waiting to go to dinner. Baxter had been invited as well, but it seemed he was running a bit late.

As you were pulling out your phone to text him, he finally appeared. He had a troubled expression, but once he saw you and your family already assembled by your mom's car he turned on a practiced smile and jogged over.

"My apologies," he said, coming to a stop by your side. "I won't hold us up any further. Shall we?"

He held his arm up for you to take and Liz snorted, then said, "We'll meet you there."

Baxter, for all his eccentricities that you'd come to know so well in then ten years you'd been friends, fancied himself a bit of a gentleman. He always offered you his arm when walking anywhere, and you always accepted. You'd had a crush on him for years but had always been too nervous to tell him, so being close to him in any capacity was nice.

Tonight felt a bit different though. Usually he gave off a warmth when you were together, a sort of easygoing gentleness that you'd always noticed was reserved only for you, but now he was tense. As you settled in the passenger seat of his car, ready to follow your family to the restaurant, you saw that his shoulders were tense, and his jaw clenched. He wouldn't look at you.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said a little too quickly as he pulled out onto the street. You kept looking at him, and eventually he let out a sigh.

"Family stuff again?" you asked.

"It's miserable there," he responded, keeping his voice low as he always did when he talked about his parents. Being vulnerable was difficult for him, but he was able to manage it with you.

"I'm sorry," you told him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"It's only gotten worse since I've turned 18," he continued. "It's like all the expectations they've placed on me my entire life should have suddenly manifested as soon as I became an adult, and because they haven't, and they won't, they're taking it out on me."

Baxter's voice got even lower, and there was a pain to it as he added, "It's unbearable."

You tried to comfort him as best you could, but the drive to the tropical place was a short one, and soon he was pulling into a parking space beside your parents. He took a breath, shot you another fake smile, then got out.

After you'd been seated and your orders had been taken, Baxter cleared his throat. The attention turned to him, and he began speaking.

"I have a bit of an announcement," he began. "I've been keeping it to myself until all the details were hammered out, but now I can share: I'll be headed east to start college in the fall. Virginia, to be precise. For a degree in business."

Your mothers were quick to congratulate him -- he'd become like a third child to them, so it was natural they'd be proud. Lee clapped her hands together, and Liz even joined in, but you just stared at him in shock.

You'd talked about your future plans, of course, and you knew Baxter was going to college but you assumed it would be somewhere nearby. Moving across the country was something someone would discuss with their best friend, but he'd kept you completely in the dark. It hurt.

Baxter answered your family's questions and thanked them for their support, but then he turned to you. You shared a look for a moment.

"If you'll excuse me, I believe I'd like to stretch my legs for just a moment before dinner arrives," he said, standing. He looked down to you, and held out his arm. "Care to join me?"

Without a word, you took his arm once again and followed him to the entrance.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner," he said quietly, leaning in to speak to you. "If I'm being honest, I didn't know how."

"So you thought it would have been best to tell me like this? When do you even leave, in a month?"

"Three weeks," he corrected. You scoffed.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, grasping your hands and pulling them up to his chest. "I truly am. If there was a way I could stay, I would, and I have to believe you know that. I don't want to leave you, I need to leave them."

His parents. That was the reason for the cross-country move. He was running away.

There was something about his closeness, his hands gripping yours close to his heart that became too much. You loved him, and he was leaving. And as long as his parents lived in the area, you doubted he'd ever want to come back.

"I have to go," you said, pulling your hands back. He began to say something, but you raised your hand to stop him, then left the restaurant.

You felt tears welling up in your eyes and decided to take a seat in your mom's car to have a moment to yourself. You unlocked the back door with a shaky hand and climbed in, then let everything out.

Baxter had been there for over half your life at this point. His presence was a constant, something you could always count on. You'd spent countless days together, and so many nights after he started sneaking in your window for impromptu sleepovers when he couldn't stand being in his own house anymore. You couldn't imagine things being so different.

After a bit, you steadied your breath and wiped your face. When you felt steady enough, you moved to get out, but then you spotted a flash of black and white illuminated by a streetlight.

There was Baxter, leaning against the trunk of his car, waiting for you.

You couldn't help but smile, and at that moment he turned back and caught your eye. He gave a cautious smile back, then tapped on the window.

"Care for some company?" he asked when you opened the door.

And so he crawled in the backseat with you, and before you could say anything, he had his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest. He laid a kiss on top of your head, then rested his cheek there.

"I'm not going to be gone for good," he told you. "And honestly I'm a little ashamed of myself if I've let you believe you could get rid of me this easily."

"You're going to be on the other side of the continent, Baxter."

"I'll visit you. You'll visit me. We'll have summer breaks." He kissed your head again and pulled you even closer, then said, "It's four years, darling. You're stuck with me for a lifetime."

You snuggled into him, basking in his affection. He wasn't always this sweet, finding it more comfortable to joke and tease, but in moments like these, it was harder not to fall more deeply in love with him.

A few more minutes passed in comfortable silence, then you told him that you'd better get back to the restaurant. He agreed, and you stepped out of the car. Just before you got to the door, he stopped and turned to face you.

"There is one more thing I feel the need to say," he started. "Something I should have told you long ago."

Taking a look at his expression, you got nervous. He was about to tell you something serious. His expression was hard to read, but when you saw his eyes dart down to your lips, you stopped him.

"We better get going," you said, stepping toward the doors. "Maybe we can talk about this another time."

Baxter looked at you a moment longer, swallowed, then smiled.

"Yes. Another time."

[koolades-world]

One bed troupe w/ Mammon

There wasn't a boring day with Mammon around. As your self proclaimed first man, he ensured you went everywhere together. Because of this, he often dragged you along to gatherings with his friends.

When you first arrived in the Devildom, you didn’t get out very much. It was a pretty straight schedule: wake up, get walked to school by whoever's turn it was that day, do class, get walked home by someone else, do homework, go to sleep, then repeat. Once you got closer, Mammon realized how boring of a life you were living despite being in hell. He vowed to make your life more interesting and began showing you the fun side of life. He brought you to bars, restaurants, his favorite casino (of course), and so much more.

Today was no different. You were at a casino together with his friends early in the evening. You had grown closer with them at this point, and things weren't awkward when he had to leave for whatever reason. While nice, you began to learn the things Mammon hadn't told you that he told them. It was never anything bad, rather, it was usually cute things, such as how he really loved when you wore yellow or gold since he gushed to them every time you did.

Mammon had walked off to cash out his large bucket of tokens he'd earned for the third time that night, leaving you and his friends to chat.

"Tonight is a good night, huh?" You sip at your drink, lazily stirring it with the cute decorative pick that came with it.

"It is!" His friend states, shaking his own bucket.

"Mammon would say, it's cause of you." Another chuckles. You join in, amused.

"That's my Mammon. I'm happy to be a good luck charm, especially since he bought me my drink." You cause the group to laugh. The conversation begins to drift, but somehow makes its way back to Mammon

"You know, he's a little worried about you. Later tonight, one of Vazimid's friends is stopping by, but Mammon has been saying he hasn't liked the way he's been eyeing you." This statement worries you too. You know that despite growing comfortable, the Devildom is by no means safe. Mammon is protective, but it's rare that he'd admit it. Before you could respond, Mammon came back.

"Hey, Mc! I'm rich! Gotta say, I only do this good when yer around." He fixed his jacket, a smug grin on his face.

"Well, I wouldn't mind joining you every time you come here." You throw your arms around him, catching him off guard. The confidence melts away from his face as he begins to stutter, causing you to hug him tighter. The next few hours go well, until that friend arrived that nobody seemed to want there, which killed the mood. Mammon kept you close, but it eased him when you were by his side.

Later in the night, someone else in the group conveniently ended up winning several fancy room in the hotel the casino was in, free of charge. It was all a little too convenient. When Vazimid's friend asked who would be staying with who, Mammon immediately claimed a room for the both of you that nobody else was allowed in. After you teased him a little about it, a quick uncharacteristic glare to silence you. Not wanting to make him more upset, you remained quiet.

After collecting the room key, he drags you away from the friend group and onto the impossibly tall elevator. The ride up was quick, but neither of you spoke. Once you arrived at the room, Mammon unlocked it and promptly close it behind the both of you. You finally work up the courage to speak, but you’re not really sure what to say, or where to start.

“Mams? Is something wrong?” You put a hand on his arm and peer at his face. His expression is tight but softens once he sees the worry in you eyes.

“Nothin’ darlin’.” He smiled at you, but you can still tell something is bothering him.

“I know you. Tell me what’s wrong.” You placed your other hand on his other arm so you could pull him closer.

He hesitates at first, but eventually speaks. "Do ya really wanna know? It's dumb." He glanced at you.

"I do. Now tell me." You waited.

"It's that demon that Vazimid keep brining around. Don't trust him around you at all. I just know he wants to get his slimy hands on you." He sighed. You giggled a little at the realization.

"It's alright to be jealous, babe." Mammon back away from you instantly at the accusation.

"Hey, hey. That's not what I said!" His ears turned red, confirming what you thought.

"Whatever you say. Will sharing that bed with me quell your inner turmoil?" You began to giggle more as he came to the realization that he'd picked a room that only had one bed. 'It's free, Mams. You love free things." You scanned the room and saw a variety of goodies laying around the room you knew Mammon would scoop up once he was done being embarrassed.

You decided to leave him to his own devices and get settled in the room. You took a quick trip into the bathroom to find two sets of hotel branded pajamas that were suspiciously in the correct sizes. You showered with the nicest soaps you'd ever gotten your hands on and reappeared to find Mammon sitting on a chair, on his D.D.D.

"I'm done, knock yourself out." You throw yourself down onto the bed, face first.

"Took ya long enough." He skulked away and took his turn in the bathroom too. When he was done, and also emerged in the matching, branded set, he seemed less enthusiastic to get in the bed than you had been. Once he sat down, though, he realized how nice it actually was.

"Ya should've told me how soft these pillow were." He cuddled one of the pillows to his chest.

"If I didn't, maybe you wouldn't have at all and I could've had this entire bed to myself. Now, stop cuddling that pillow and cuddle me instead." You rolled yourself over to him and did grabby hands in his direction. He went red again, but listened. His hair was still a little damp from his shower and the jasmine scented hotel soap made him smell wonderful. He always ran very hot, which you enjoyed since he worked as a great personal heater. Once he had decompressed, you spoke a little bit about your plans for tomorrow, and eventually you drifted off.

Mammon remained awake for a little bit longer, thinking about the exciting evening the both of you had had. He was thankful that he had you, and even though he would never admit it, he had been jealous. He hated the idea of sharing you with some werido that he never invited in the first place. He hugged you a little tighter, and eventually feel asleep himself, thinking about you.

[danieyells]

I'm not sure why I feel so attracted to the idea of Jiro sedating the MC and touching them over their clothes but not daring to do much more, and later the MC waking up and thinking it was a kind of dream influenced by him taking care of their pre-op "well he was always handsome"

You're attracted to it because it's hot anon 👀 the vulnerability, the drugging, the lack of fulfillment when all he does is grope over your clothes, the uncertainty--i'm always a slut for dub/non-con and drugging oh lord 👀 tell me more anon

And man i sure hope this isn't total gibberish because i wrote it in parts over the course of the day and only finished like now and it's 4am. . . .

I feel a little disappointed in this one, i'll admit lolol and it's not exactly what you described but maybe you'll like it anyway?

Obvious non/dubcon and (consensual, medical) drugging cws. Additional warnings for that the pc is never named and is only referred to as 'they' for the most part, and I left their gender and genitals ambiguous, which makes for some sloppy writing on my part. . . .

They had been helping at Jabberwock a few days prior and they'd been bitten by an anomaly. It was a minor injury but Haru was worried about the side effects. After Towa nearly sent the poor creature to hell, they'd been sent to Mortkranken for examination, to be certain the beast's venom wouldn't have any lasting effects.

It was Yuri who inspected them the first time. Even after spending time helping the medical house, Yuri still made the inspector feel a little on edge. They worried the only thing that kept them from more than basic examination and preventative care was Professor Nicolas' presence.

"Their venom is slow acting." Yuri scoffed after they described the anomaly they'd been affected by. He walked with them after they were discharged, making his way to another patient in the building as he explained before they went their separate ways. "If you go a week without noticing any changes the medicine worked in full. Come back if you start experiencing any unintended muscle movements!"

With that sharp dismissal, they returned to the Cathedral, worrying over every twitch and itch and crawl under their skin.

And three days later they were once again in Mortkranken after a sudden movement of their leg nearly sent them careening down a staircase.

Kaito and Luca had been kind enough to rush them to the infirmary, where Professor Nicolas subsequently had them quickly transported to Mortkranken as the anomalous effects would be better treated there(much to Kaito's dismay.)

A general student saw them into a wheelchair and rolled them inside the office, helping them onto an examination table to make sure another spasm wouldn't cause them any injury. Even as they were brought inside they began to panic as the spasms increased in frequency and spread from their leg into other parts of their body. They shook and twitched against their own wishes, even as Jiro arrived in the exam room with the necessary materials.

"You're moving too much." Jiro sighed on sight, putting down the needle he'd filled without even saying hello. He moved to fetch a fresh one and a small jar of lavender colored fluid. "I'm going to sedate you. You should be okay to fall asleep, if you feel tired. You shouldn't die."

The human tried to find the honest statement and lack of alarm comforting. If they were dying then surely Yuri and Nicolas would have been contacted? Or perhaps their curse or the ring would have counteracted it?

The summer had seen them abandon their blazer in favor of wearing a short sleeve dress shirt, making access to their arm quite simple. Jiro moved to hold their upper arm when another spasm rocked it. After waiting for the jolts to cease, he gripped their arm tight enough to make them wince, disinfected their skin with precision, and jabbed the needle into their upper arm with a little pinch.

The effect was almost immediate as he pushed down the plunger. The moment the fluid entered them they felt fuzzy, their vision swimming as if with exhaustion. The warmth spread and their muscles relaxed, losing most of their strength. Where a convulsion was about to start they felt a much weaker muscle spasm, registering in their mind as barely a crawl of their skin. Once all of the fluid had entered them, the needle was pulled out and discarded in an anomalous container for sharps; the spot was immediately cleaned and bandaged.

The sedative must have had some additional effect, the inspector reasoned. Where Jiro must have had been pressing fingers against the plaster to stop any bleeding, they imagined a long press of his lips.

But that wouldn't make sense.

Or be sanitary wound care.

(Would he even have a concept of 'kissing wounds makes them better'? It didn't seem like he grew up in such a gentle environment.)

Once he was certain the spasms had been relaxed Jiro put on a new pair of gloves and fetched his original needle. "This should kill any of the remaining venom." He explained as he cleaned another patch of skin. "Aside from the initial pinch you shouldn't notice anything odd. Maybe a little burning.

"If you feel anything besides that. . . ." He looked into their eyes, glassy and hazy. Barely there, their mind and body were so numb. For a moment they were able to focus on him, and he seemed to smile in amusement--although, that would be strange for Jiro, so it must have just been the medicine. "Just lie there and drool, I suppose. I'll take care of it."

Any attempt at response failed, their body feeling so limp that even speaking was a task. It felt like a nightmare of helplessness, the kind they'd had many times since coming to Darkwick--unable to move their body and helpless at the mercy of some person or beast. But even through the needles' sharp penetration(barely noticed in the haze of their sedation) they felt surprisingly safe. Perhaps their sleeping mind heard Jiro's blunt explanations and took them as literal as Jiro meant them to be and felt no fear or discomfort. They were helpless and heavy, but not afraid despite it. Like a dream within a dream.

As Jiro had claimed, they feel nothing but a light burn tingling in their veins. A gentle buzz throughout their being. They could almost feel the anomalous medicine working, seeking out the toxicity in their muscles and killing it. Or perhaps the sensitivity was part of their sedative-induced dream.

"Done." Jiro announced. The needle left them, and they were cleaned and bandaged once again. Jiro kissed--or pressed against, more likely--the bandage until the bleeding stopped. They opened their bleary eyes to watch him as he cleaned up. "You'll need to be monitored for about ten minutes, to make sure there are no side effects." He looked back at them lying on the examination table, a limp doll of a human. Not that, compared to Jiro, they were much stronger than a doll to begin with. "Not that you can go anywhere. In your condition."

Was that a laugh, or a sigh? It was a little huff of a sound, something they might as well have had imagined. A lot of things seemed imagined here. Like that Jiro didn't leave to attend to another patient and leave a general student to look after them until they could move again. Yuri would have likely had them put in a chair and wheeled back home with one of their friends. . .or worse, used their helpless body in some sort of experiment.

Perhaps that thought is what made the Jiro in their mind come closer once everything was in order and examine them closely. Had it been ten minutes? Time really didn't seem to have a meaning right now. They tried moving, and found little change in when they were first injected.

"Did I give you too much?" Jiro asked, slipping strong hands under their arms and repositioning them. They managed a sound best(though still poorly) described as a weak squeak in acknowledgement. "It's a strong sedative. If I didn't give it to you the venom might have started coordinating your spasms until it controlled your body. You'll be able to move again eventually."

Once they'd been placed back onto the table in a good position, the head of the table slightly raised, Jiro watched them.

Then, he moved a hand to lightly rest on their sternum.

"You're not breathing very hard." He observed. His hand traveled over to the left, cupping their chest. His other hand went to their neck, resting over their pulse. The palm over their chest started stroking the area through their shirt, heavy and dragging as if absentminded. They tensed, trying to squirm but too weak to do so.

"Your RPM and heart rate are a little high." Jiro noted aloud, though not on any sort of chart. The hand on their neck traced their throat with a thumb. "And you're starting to warm up. An allergic reaction, maybe. . .? You weren't found to be allergic to any of the anomalous medicine we use during your health checks."

The hand on their chest gave the tissue a squeeze. First a soft massaging, then something rougher. The way he spoke was so clinical, they had to assume the contact was little more than a fever dream, the last of the spasms wracking their body in particularly sensitive places and their sleeping mind filling in the blanks with thoughts of their vulnerable body being toyed with by the handsome, stoic doctor.

Even the tweak to one of their nipples wasn't enough to wake them, only enough to elicit another squeak and make them shudder in lieu of squirming or arching their back. Even when the hand on their throat moved to their jaw and traced their lips, sinking into their unresistant mouth to stroke their tongue, they assumed they were dreaming, misinterpreting what was happening in the waking world. Jiro commented on their temperature, thumb teasing the back of their throat until they just barely gagged. He retracted his hand entirely to mind their pebbling nipples with both.

What started so purely as the medical attention they needed had, in some length of time that they couldn't measure through the fog, became a pair of strong and heavy hands tracing down their side and waist, sliding over to grope at their tummy. The muscles beneath weakly tensed at the ticklish feeling, and he gave a little hum in acknowledgement. "It looks like you're getting your strength back, at least."

When he relocated his hands to their hips, they confirmed this slight recovery with a little squirm. He squeezed down, presumably to keep them still. "Relax. You'll need your strength for when you leave."

Presumably, it was to keep them still, although they felt his hands slip beneath to their rear, kneading their ass and tracing their crack through their clothes. When he spread the cheeks, he once again received a whine and a squirm, which he responded to with a rough squeeze as if in punishment. Nonetheless, he moved down to their thighs, similarly admiring their shape and feel, before slipping his hands between and spreading them without a hint of effort on his part.

"Ji--!" Their slurred attempt at speech was disrupted by their choked gasp when Jiro's groping moved to squeeze their crotch. The sudden jolt of pleasure, after being worked up through what felt like hours of slowly being toyed with, was enough to almost push through the muscle relaxants in the sedative for just a moment, letting them arch into the contact. They were still too weak to grind into his hand, however, and he only pushed back enough to get their hips to drop painfully back onto the table.

"I told you to calm down." His fingers traced the shape of their genitals, stroking as if to learn the shape more than to titillate. Jiro was a doctor. He'd personally given them medical examinations where they were wearing much less. He already knew what was there, though not in such intimacy. He didn't like 'pointless' things. He wouldn't see a point in something like this. So it could only be a dream. He massaged them through the fabric of their uniform and underwear, fingers pressing and stroking where heat seeped through the most. They only hoped he couldn't feel the moisture gathering there as well. "Your temperature is going up again."

Watching Jiro's actions was difficult in their exhausted condition. While there was no way they could conceptualize that Jiro would actually do any of this, some part of them desperately wanted to know what Jiro--if only as a product of their imagination--was feeling as he brought them agonizingly slowly towards orgasm.

They blinked through the mist of tears they realized must have been forming along with the drool running down their still parted lips, until Jiro's face came into focus. He was much too close to their lap, so close his even, unhurried breaths could be felt warming them through their clothes. It only added to the stimulation. Jiro was an adult, even if he sometimes seemed quite juvenile, like when he laughed at stag beetles fighting or Yuri struggling not to sleep in class; it was surely impossible that he didn't know what he was doing.

On the other hand, he'd been in a coma for some time, and he had no real consideration for the privacy of others' bodies. . .the intent look of study combined with a tinge of pink on his cheeks as he breathed over their aroused genitals and felt the way the touch of his scarred hands made them change. . . .

It was as if he was using their body to sate some curiosity, rather than truly molest them. Even the way his other hand gripped their clothing, as if considering simply removing it, seemed too explorative to be malicious or manipulative.

Or perhaps they simply thought that way because their angle didn't afford them the sight of his lap, to see if he was, perhaps, getting as aroused as they were.

But Jiro paused in his ministrations, contact returning shortly to simply resting his hand on that sensitive and throbbing area, before he retracted his hands completely. Again, they whinged, squirming at being left alone as Jiro seemed to disappear from the examination table.

"Interesting." What was of interest wasn't quite clear. It occurred to them that their body's responses to their dream were real, and perhaps the real Jiro was made aware of their arousal. It was impossible to tell his reaction from his voice alone, and they writhed in humiliation at being caught in some sort of medically induced wet dream. "It seems like you'll need a little more time to recover."

They held their breath, but the contact never returned. They felt themself cooking down, but still sensitive, as if Jiro's touch was lingering. Occasionally they heard some noise in the examination room--a turning page or a keyboard or computer mouse or writing implements on paper. Occasionally a noise from a phone, or a distant echo from out in the hall. But for the most part, all they heard was a strangely loud and hazy silence.

At some point, the dream turned to void, as if they'd fallen asleep inside of it.

When they came to, the world had much less of a layer of fog over it. Their body still felt heavy, but not so much so that they couldn't move it. Sounds were a bit sharper, and yet they heard less as if their senses had been heightened in their sleep. Yuri was scolding Jiro, something about dawdling in here with the sleeping patient when there was work to be done.

"They had a reaction to the antivenom." Jiro explained, his voice coming closer. As usual his footfalls were shockingly quiet, and they would have never known he was coming near if he weren't speaking. They squinted into the strong lights, raising an arm to cover their face. "They're awake now, so I'll discharge them."

"Fine. But hurry up! You know what happens when you're late for your medicine, and I won't tolerate your complaints if you're the cause of your own delay!" Yuri stormed out, likely to prepare Jiro's medication, not even acknowledging them despite having had seen them out when they first checked in days prior.

Jiro, meanwhile, presented them with a light snack of crackers and a juice box. "I would recommend eating a meal and getting some rest once you get home. That sedative wasn't made for restful sleep."

They cleared their throat after taking a few sips of juice. "You said I had a reaction. . . ."

"Yes."

"What. . .happened. . .?"

"Increased temperature, heart rate, and respiration." Jiro explained, watching them eat.

"Did you do anything to stop them. . .?" They really wanted to ask if it was truly a product of the antivenom, but feared sounding accusatory over what was likely a dream.

"No. They weren't at a dangerous level. I just kept an eye on them so make sure they didn't get worse."

They nodded, sipping their juice again. "And the sedative can give you strange dreams? You said it isn't made for restful sleep. . . ."

"Your body is forced to sleep without your mind being put into a restful place first. It would be like falling asleep with something on your mind, making you more likely to dream about it. So, yes, that would likely be the case."

They heaved a somewhat disappointed sigh, tilting the last of their snack crackers into their mouth. "That's good, I think. . .I'm glad that's all that happened."

"If you say so."

That response felt off. Jiro took their trash and threw it away, fetching the wheelchair they were rolled in on to help them into it. He put a hand on their back, making them jump as they were gently pushed to the edge of the lowered bed to sit up.

"What do you mean? That's all that happened, isn't it?"

"It already happened." Jiro said dismissively, putting his hands under their arms to lift them up(again?) and sit them into the chair, not trusting their legs just yet. "I don't see a point in worrying what happened between your treatment and now."

The cursed inspector tried to formulate a response that could convince Jiro to share what he meant--even if all he said was that he had read a medical journal, or that he'd adjusted them in bed a few times--but knowing Jiro they couldn't think of a way to get him to talk. They squeezed their thighs together, feeling their genitals throb from the orgasm denial, the unfulfillment of their dream that might have been reality. But they were already back in the Mortkranken lobby, where Luca greeted them with a kind smile, approaching.

"Can you walk?" He asked as Jiro locked the chair. They set one leg on the floor and, though it felt heavy, they could definitely balance enough to get up and stumble over to Luca on wobbly legs before giving a weak nod. "I'm glad to hear it. It looks like you've recovered well. Are they clear to return home, Doctor Kirisaki?"

"Just Jiro is fine." Jiro looked them over once more. It was surely their imagination that his gaze lingered on their crotch--where they squeezed their thighs together tightly, remembering their dizzy dream and just how close his lips were before he pulled away--as opposed to their slightly wobbling legs. "They're a fall risk until they've had a meal and some rest. But they're safe for discharge."

A general Mortkranken student trotted up, offering the scholarship student their discharge paperwork and instructions, then collected the wheelchair for sensitization and storage once the papers were taken. They and Lucas thanked them kindly, and Jiro as well. He simply nodded in response, before they began to make their way out the door.

The cursed human took one final look back at Jiro, who simply tilted his head at them like so many of the cats around campus. Then he winced and turned away, stumbling towards the basement to receive his medication.

About two or three hours later, they received a WickChat message.

Jiro: You implied you experienced an odd dream as an effect of the sedative. This may also have been a yet unseen reaction between the sedative and the antivenom. Jiro: For the sake of proper documentation, would you be able to expound upon the dream at all? It's okay if you can't remember everything. Any details would be valuable to the understanding of anomalous medicine and its effects on humans and individuals afflicted by curses.

Their heart pounded. Telling Jiro what they dreamed of could be valuable information, but could they really bear the humiliation of it? Of explaining that they'd had a nearly wet dream about him, while he was in the room with them? Would Jiro even think anything of it, oblivious as he is to emotional matters?

Jiro: If it helps, a date for you to be sedated again could be arranged. You could be attached to a brain wave monitor, so your memory won't need to be relied upon. Jiro: Perhaps the dream will reoccur. I'll be sure to thoroughly extract something of value, so the experience isn't wasted.

Perhaps it was his use of 'thoroughly extracting value', but the thought crossed their mind that they hadn't been dreaming at all, and that Jiro mayhaps wanted to finish what he started. But it wouldn't make sense from the get go for it to have had been real. . . .

And yet they remembered Jiro's talk of prescribing death to others and dismissing ethics.

There was no point in discussing the ethics of something that had already been done, he said.

Perhaps some of the experience was real. He wouldn't have had been so cryptic about what had happened while they slept if nothing had occurred, would he?

Although, he was often cryptic about things, so perhaps that was merely coincidence and they were getting their hopes up--

Jiro: A prompt response would be appreciated. 'No' is an acceptable response, as well.

They scrambled to type a response, realizing they'd left him on read.

8636: I don't know how well I can recall. . . . 8636: I'm willing to be re-sedated, though! 8636: Before I agree to it, may I ask a potentially non-medical question? Jiro: I can't stop you from asking questions over WickChat. 8636: What happened while I was sedated today? After I was given the antivenom?

There was a pause, but no typing for a while. Then the general Mortkranken WickChat messaged them with appointment information.

8636: Jiro? Jiro: ? 8636: I didn't see a response, so I was just checking in. . . . Jiro: I didn't agree to answer the question.

A fair, if disappointing response.

Jiro: Just know I attempted to administer a holistic remedy to an unanticipated physiological response that arose during your treatment.

The response took a little longer to parse. As realization dawned on them, the next message came in.

Jiro: It didn't work as intended, as I'm not very experienced with such methods or concerns. Perhaps you noticed your continued affliction after discharge, and your discharge instructions. Jiro: Should the same issue arise, I've done more research.

They covered their face in embarrassment.  The discharge instruction "administer personal relief as needed" made much more sense now. They desperately hoped the Mortkranken student who handed them their discharge instructions hadn't read it first.

Accepting this explanation, they hastily sent an apology and threw themself down in bed, covering their face. Did they have to go to the appointment!? Jiro had only been trying to help them, albeit in an extremely questionable way. . .and somehow the thought that he had done more research to better serve the need in question. . .it was embarrassing, despite that they were the victim. They were able to excuse it, rationalizing that they were attracted to Jiro anyway and the idea alone felt exciting, but now walking into it as though it were any other medical procedure felt. . .insincere.

Resolving to perhaps cancel the appointment and try and get Jiro to have a talk with them about ethics, they dozed off, trying to ignore the returning heat and throbbing between their legs.

When they next awoke, it was to a small pinch, like the needles they'd recieved that day.

Just as had happened earlier, their strength was robbed from them nearly immediately, and they gasped as they felt a pair of lips on their chest, sucking at the nipple through their pajamas. A familiar large, heavy hand squeezed their other breast, twisting and tugging the nipple there.

"Not to worry." Jiro reassured through the gloom and the haze of sleep and strong sedatives. "Just like earlier, this is all a dream."

Limp in bed, a heavy doll for him to experiment on, what could they do but comply?

[bonny-kookoo]

Hot Hearted request if it works...

MC convinces JK that going out and having a casual date is ok, but will wait for him to ask her first. He tries to think of something but ends up needing advice. And then date day happens and it is hilariously weird?

Jungkook has been panicking for the last two hours, frantically trying to reach any of his hyungs to ask for advice, but deciding against it out of pure embarrassment. Online research didn't help at all either, because it all states to have a date somewhere that's not home- but he can't go anywhere that's no his home.

So when he lets you inside, it feels oddly like nothing special is supposed to happen, even though he'd asked you on a date yesterday at his home. The apartment is lit by his familiar moodlights, lasers on the walls traveling. "I'm sorry-" He sighs, running his hands over his face. "I don't know what to do, and I pushed it to the last minute, and I didn't want to call anyone and tell them I don't know how to have a fucking date-" He rants, when you suddenly hug him from behind, his hands almost instantly reaching to hold yours where they sit over his abdomen, noticing how cold they are from the outside. You smell a little like rain.

"Hello to you too, yes, I'm very happy to see you. I'm doing well, and you?" You giggle, and he whines in complains, letting his head fall back while you laugh and let go of him. "It's fine. I could've brought takeout if you'd just told me you were overwhelmed with it all." You gently scold, and he shrugs, shuffling after you, no tension in his body.

"I'm sorry." he apologizes quietly.

"Let's call a delivery service then?" You chirp, finally having taken off your coat and shoes to sit down at his kitchen table, swinging your legs.

"But I wanted to cook.." He scratches the back of his neck. "If we just.. ring up delivery it's no different from usual." He says.

"It is." You shrug. "Usually we have sex right away and I leave after. So, it'd be very much different from usual." You note, throwing his past behavior right back into his face like cold water.

He cringes at himself. God what the fuck was wrong with him?

He knows by now that it was pure laziness. He just got too comfortable with the way things were going, his life of freedom still the same just with the added bonus of you- and since you never complained, he never questioned it either, even though he should have.

"I'm sorry-" Jungkook repeats, and you laugh.

"Stop saying sorry and call up some food, yeah?" You giggle. "No use in crying over spilled milk." You shrug, and he nods, searching for his phone to order something via an app installed, before he walks back to you. "Do you have something to drink?" You wonder, and he nods.

"What do you want?" He asks, and you just lean your head on your arms on the table.

"Something alcoholic." You hum towards him. "I wanna get a little tipsy." You joke.

Jungkook is a bit nervous. He can't remember a time where you've been even remotely tipsy or even drunk at all- should he stay sober then? Just to make sure you're alright. But won't it be weird if you drink alone?

"Jungkookie, don't stare at the beer, gimme!" You laugh, making grabby hands for it, making him laugh a little. How come he's never noticed how.. cute you are?

He really only knows you as calm, and quiet, and just.. yeah. Calm and quiet. Barely talking much. Always somewhat with your head in the clouds. But right now, right there, sits someone with sparkling eyes, full of life, full of emotions and warmth to give.

And as he pours you both a drink, food arriving a little later, he knows as he watches you with flushed cheeks and eyes full of love that he wants to cherish you just like that. Filled with color and laughing happily.

He never wants to see you so grey ever again.

[d34dlysinner]

Since I'm currently recovering from the flu, I've been wondering how would the kings react to MC being sick with a fever? (You can also add Marbas, Buer, and Morax if you like!)

Satan pressed his hand against your forehead and checked your temperature. "You're indeed burning up...", he says to himself as he asks Sitri to contact one of the doctors. It's Hell, more specifically Gehenna, and everyone here in his territory arrives and leaves in the same state. So he wouldn't risk him taking care of you. He's not bad at it, but being a doctor isn't his job. He will help you get the stuff you need and check if you've taken your medicine. Mammon became worried at your weakened state as he asked you if you were feeling alright. His hands which would normally wander to your bottom would this time rest on your forehead as he feels the heat radiating from your body. The moment you said that you felt sick he asked someone to bring in doctors. He wants you to feel at your best in Hell and will make sure that nothing will harm you, not even something as 'little' as a cold. Leviathan saw how drained and pale you looked and instantly knew that you were sick. 'Do you need energy again?', he asked himself as he calculated the last time you got devil essence. When he realized that it wasn't that long ago, he knew that you had some sort of illness. He demanded the first devil he saw to bring a doctor. After that, he made sure that you were put on bedrest until you were good again. Beelzebub would drag you to the doctors in Paradise Lost and wait there with you. He would also use this as an excuse to avoid his work and his responsibilities. He said with a huge smile on his face "Sorry, Bael... The child of Solomon is sick, so. They'll need me to take care of them... You want to come over? No. Not needed.", he said on the phone before quickly shutting down the call. After the quick appointment with the doctors, he got some instructions. It was pretty simple for him... And boring. So he dropped you off at Avisos and made sure the others would help you. He'll occasionally come and bring some food he made. Whether you want to consume that stuff or not is up to you. He could've left you at Paradise Lost, but he knew it'd be harder to see you at times and to help a bit. Marbas always knows what to do when someone's under the weather, but he saw this opportunity to keep you longer at Paradise Lost. Also, he couldn't do much without clear orders from Lucifer. So, he settled with letting you take a room in the hospital and coming in the room for daily checkups. Until you're better again. Buer would instantly prescribe you medicine. He allows you to rest in one of the rooms with private rooms. This way no devil could annoy you. He was a good caretaker and made nice teas. Let's say that you were cured very fast. Morax has the ability to take away your illness and other pains in seconds, but that would also mean that he would be sick and that he'd see you go the moment he did that. He asked permission to you if you were alright with staying in Paradise Lost for a while until you were cured. You knew his abilities but also understood that it'd be sad, especially for him, to leave him the moment he took over your cold or flu.

[slytherizz]

Secret Melodies - Sebastian Sallow x Female!MC/Reader

Summary: Below the Hogwarts music room Sebastian discovers his friend has been keeping a dirty little secret

Prompt for @twitchydownfall kinkmas: Melolagnia (music kink) + Smug

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: 18+, aged-up characters, explicit sexual content, vaginal fingering, Melolagnia (music kink), dubious consent (if you squint)

Sebastian noticed the inclination first at the Christmas feast. He was squeezed beside her on the long benches along with the rest of the students with nowhere else to go over the festive season. Professor Ronan had wrangled what was left of the choir to perform carols for the straggling student body. Just as they’d begun their first song she’d burst into a fit of nervous giggling and quickly excused herself to go to the loo only returning fifteen minutes later when they’d finished. For a moment Sebastian thought someone had spiked her pumpkin juice but when he sniffed her cup when she wasn’t looking, he found nothing was amiss.

His suspicion only grew every day at twelve o’clock. When the bells would chime out their merry tune her cheeks would blush and an inviting shade of crimson. It didn’t matter that she was bundled up in her heavy woollen scarf and thick tights under her skirt, a shiver would spread down her spine as if fresh snow had fallen down the back of her cloak and ice was sliding down her spine the chill electrified her nerves down to the tips of her fingers. Each time it happened she'd look rather flustered and quickly start prattling on about lunch, charms homework or any number of inconsequential things, desperately trying to hide the pink of her ears behind her hair.

Then came her disappearing act. Five to Six. Tuesdays and Thursdays. Like clockwork.

Sebastian was beginning to doubt his hypothesis, perhaps it was all just a coincidence, and he was beginning to feel rather foolish. If she didn't come, he'd have to wait until the entire orchestra had left to save himself the embarrassment. He'd be stuck, hunched over in the dusty eaves of the bell tower for another hour. He'd already been here for one not wanting to risk scaring her off or running into her outside and have to explain what he was doing so far from his usual haunts.

The orchestra were due to arrive in less than ten minutes and his back muscles were already beginning to ache from his stoop position, the low ceilings not nearly high enough to accommodate his full height. Sebastian was just about to give up and admit defeat when he heard the scuffling of a singular pair of feet on the floor above his head.

She came.

Sebastian slunk back further into the dark hiding himself from her view as she quickly clicked the small door behind her. She leased a shaky breath, carding her fingers through her hair she looked almost alight with anticipation. She walked unsteadily over to a crate folding her cloak neatly and placing it on the floor to her left. She ran her hand over her backside, smoothing out her skirt as she perched on the edge of the crate her back to him.

Sebastian could feel his heart fluttering in his chest, his pulse quickening in anticipation, devouring her greedily with his eyes like how a fox watches a chicken coop. 

For a while, she just sat there silently her ankles crossed the low light cracks from the floorboards illuminated her in a streaky spotlight. A hidden star in a show ready to perform for a solitary audience.

The floorboards began to creak overhead, dust shaking loose from the rafters as the muttering crowds above their heads took their positions, strings whined as they were tuned. She looked so serene and for a moment Sebastian thought he'd been entirely wrong and perhaps she did just come here to listen merely as a patron of the arts.

Any doubt in Sebastian’s mind dissipated as soon as he heard the first pluck of a harp string. Unaware of two keen eyes watching her from the darkness she didn't suppress the violent shiver that rolled down her spine.

Much to Sebastian's delight his theory had been correct, but then again, he was rarely wrong.

As the string section purred into life that familiar shiver rattled through her but unaware of his presence she didn't hide its effect on her. A rosy stain painted her cheeks, her fingers ghosted across the heat in her face and Sebastian had to stifle the guttural groan from his own lips as he watched her follow that flush down as it as it spread lower. Her hands traced down the flush along her throat to loosen her tie and the top buttons of her blouse. The flush spreading along her clavicle, she left goosebumps in her wake.

He knew if he could see himself, Sebastian would see a similar effect staining his own skin. She was drunk on the sounds that poured in from above but he was drunk on triumph and the sight of her increasingly dishevelled appearance.

She made clean work of her buttons, and as the tempo increased from the orchestra above, she seemed emboldened with need as the wind section called out to the strings. Her shallow breathing called out to their song in an intoxicating whimper.

Her nimble fingers slid down to her ankles, and she hitched up her skirt. Lifting her hips she peeled her winter tights down her legs, exposing the soft skin of her thighs. Sebastian loosened his own tie around his neck the only thing to distract his fingers from reaching for her too soon and creating valleys in her flesh with his hands, imagining what it might feel like to sink his teeth into them.

Patience was truly a virtue, and his mouth went dry as her fingers dip tentatively between her thighs. She shuddered in time to the swelling of the brass. The noise that escaped her lips, a delicious little whine as her fingers teased her secret place was enough to break his composure. Sebastian had proved his theory right, and he felt he’d earnt a reward for his troubles.

He stepped out of the dark, on silent feet drowned out by the hum of music above he snuck up behind her. Her eyes were shut tight, too wrapped up in the song and her ministrations between her legs to be alerted to his presence towering above her. Leaning in close he could smell the fresh mallowsweet on her skin, muddled now with the heat radiating off her skin. The tempting swell of her breasts underneath her stays rose and fell with her shuddered breaths.

"You know if you wanted some help all you had to do was ask?" he purred into the shell of her ear.

Her eyes snapped open. She hurried to pull down her skirt back down her legs, but Sebastian caught her smaller hands in his. Wrapping his hand around her wrists as she stammered searching for words that wouldn’t come. Stradling the back of the crate to take the position behind her, his groin pressed against her back securing his legs astride her hips. She wriggled against his hips, jostling to get away now not only flushed with arousal but embarrassment. Sebastian couldn’t suppress the slight moan that escaped his own lips as her incessant movements brushed up against his own hardening arousal. She stilled a sound escaping her lips halfway between a horrified gasp and a needy moan. Sebastian knew she must have realised how the sight of her touching herself had affected him, feeling the stiffness twitching against the small of her back.

"Seb- I don't know what you think is going on but your wrong-" she flustered but she cut herself off with a groan as the twittering sound of flutes joined the chorus of string and brass. Her eyelashes fluttered and her thighs jerked to rub together instinctively. Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on who you ask, Sebastian was quicker. He wrapped his free hand around her thigh, forcing them apart in his iron grip suppressing her ability to allow her any relief.

“Don’t be coy with me, pet. Or I’ll make you beg for it. I know I’ll find you dripping under here,” he cooed teasing the hem of her knickers. She whimpered. A godly sound perfectly tuned to his own primal needs that sent the blood rushing to his cock and it twitched approvingly against the small of her back.

He knew she'd beg for it.

"You know, if you’d asked, I would have been more than happy to help with your little problem," he smirked running his hand along the inside of her thigh.

“It’s really not what you think-” she began, the quiver in her voice betraying any confidence she tried to muster. She was still twitching in his firm hold, knees pressing inwards against his hands as she tried to seek relief and he admired the dips and valleys her motions created as they pressed against his long fingers.

“We can sit like this all night if you want,” he mused “Or if you’re a good girl and ask nicely and I will help.”

She squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to control her breathing, desperate to get her racing pulse that he could feel fluttering in her wrists under control. He rolled his hips against the small of her back and she sank back against him her teeth biting hard into her bottom lip as she suppressed another whimper.

“Seb…” she began just as the swell of the music broke the last shred of her resolve to resist him. “Please-” she bit out. He chuckled against the shell of her ear, nuzzling his nose through her mussed hair. She impatiently shifted her hips as he trailed his finger along the inside of her thigh. Her breath came out in hot little pants as she practically vibrated with anticipation at his torturously slow pursuit towards the apex of her thighs.

"You're soaking," he hissed, as his fingers traced her folds through the damp fabric of her bloomers "Dirty little witch, aren’t you? Coming up here to touch yourself in secret thinking no one would notice."

A small whine escaped her bitten lips and her hands had at last ceased resisting in their pursuit to break free from his grip around her wrists. Her head had lolled back against his shoulder her eyes tightly shut. Rewarding her submission Sebastian gently pressed his thumb against her clit through the soft material.

“Oh Gods,” she murmured as he began tracing soft circles. He pressed soft kisses in time to the beat of the drum behind her ear, her collarbone following the slope of her neck to her shoulder lulling her into softening her still stiff limbs in his hold. He wanted her boneless, pliant, but mostly he wanted her keening and begging for more. The deep and vibrant sounds of cellos elicited soft panting, she ground her hips against his fingers in search of more.

Satisfied she was to overcome to break free he released her wrists to loosen the ribbons of her stays. Wrapping his arm around to bring her flush against his body, pressed firmly into his chest now her arse creating a divine friction against his own throbbing need for her to rut shamelessly against her. Before she could register he’d released her hands he grasped her breast in his left hand. Kneading the soft flesh through her chamise her nipple pebbled. She moaned her now free hands wrapping around his neck to knot painfully in the back of his hair.

"Tsk, tsk. If you want more you have to ask nicely,"

"Sebastian-"

"That’s it, good girl. If you want to come, you have to say my name,” he growled his voice a deep baritone “Now tell me is this how you touch yourself when you're up here by yourself?”

"No. More-" she whined. Gone was the earlier apprehension replaced with a primal need for music and Sebastian to fill her.

"More what,” he hummed, increasing the speed of his teasing against her clit in time with the allegro.

"Touch me…”

"But I am touching you?" He chuckled fastening his mouth against her fluttering pulse to mark her skin like a composer signing his greatest work. "I wonder do you put your fingers in that pretty little cunt of yours? Hmm?"

She buried her face in his neck, the rosy stain across her cheeks deepening her gasping breaths tickling the sensitive skin below his ear. He felt her nod her head reluctantly that white-hot desire the music instilled in her body winning out over any shame she felt for her dearest friend to be the one eliciting such confessions.

"Your fingers are much too small,” he mused, releasing her breast to stretch his free hand over hers. He ran his nails across her knuckles dwarfing her smaller digits “If you say please I'll let mine stretch you out."

"Please Seb-" She practically sobbed only muffled by the deep hum of the cellos above sending her further into a frenzy. She squirmed against him desperately in search of more pressure practically aching for release. His hot breath chuckle disturbing the hair now wild framing her face.

How long had he yearned to see her like this? No longer his cocky friend but needy and desperate.   She groaned slightly at the loss of his fingers on her clit but Sebastian swiftly dipped his fingers below the waistband of her bloomers and past the sparse hairs between her thighs to tease her soaking folds.

"You're soaking. Are you always this wet or is some of this for me?" If it was possible, her cheeks went an even darker shade of crimson. Before she could bury her head away in embarrassment, he caught her chin in this hand no longer clutching her breast her eyes snapped open to meet his and he grinned wide at her victoriously before plunging one finger inside her. She released a strangled cry at the intrusion into her warmth so much larger than her own slender digits. He began to slowly pump his finger in and out of her.

"You'll spoil the song if you're too loud pet. Do you think you can keep quiet? We wouldn't want anyone else to find out your little secret now, would we?"

She nodded, biting down hard on her bottom lip to stifle her needy moans. Incredibly aware of his own aching need pressed firmly into the small of her back twitching as her body wriggled against him, he released a grunt of his own against her hair. Her hips rutted forward desperately against his finger, craving more relief only he could give her.

"So needy,” he chided, sliding his middle finger to join his index in her tight heat. Her slick walls fluttered against his fingers unfamiliar to the intrusion as they stretched to accommodate him. Her keening mewls became throaty groans. He relished in the knowledge that only a few feet above their heads students played on unaware of the fact he was turning their ‘Hero of Hogwarts’ into a boneless mess beneath their feet.

"Admit you wanted me to find you up here?” he purred against her ear.

“No- but…” she trailed off. Not wanting to lose this opportunity to draw confessions from her lips in regular circumstances she would keep bottled up. But with his hand between her legs, and the ebb and flow of music fogging her mind it wasn’t just her body that was pliant under him but her tongue.

“If you tell me, I’ll make you feel so good,” he promised curling his fingers inside of her to tease that sweet spot inside of her that would make her legs tremble. Her tight little body clenched around his fingers before relaxing further into his touch, receiving him deeper.

“I think about you,” her breathless confession plucked out of her like a string of a violin.

“Do you think about me when you touch yourself?”

“Ah- yes,” she panted. Her eyes at last opened to look at him fully, her pupils blown so wide he could barely distinguish the colour of her irises as she stared lustily at his freckled face.

“Naughty girl, keeping secrets,” he hummed. Despite his mocking scolding, he rewarded her confession by adding his thumb to press circles over her clit. She bit down hard on her lip trying to maintain her composure despite how every pump of his fingers and swirl of his thumb was reducing her to a moaning mess. Her arm gave her stability still wrapped around his neck as her spine rounded, as she at last released her bruised lip from between her teeth a rasping moan escaping her lips. He knew they were running out of time and his own need would have to wait but that didn’t stop his hips rocking against the small of her back, desperately seeking out friction on his cock. Her fingernails dug in harshly into his neck creating half-moons in his flesh as she desperately clung to him craving the rutting of his hips against her.

The music swelled around them to an almost deafening degree and her cunt began to flutter and clench.- Her slick coating his fingers allowing him to push his fingers in deeper, increasing his tempo she rutted shamelessly down onto his fingers, in time with his own motions to keep pressure on her sweet spot. She was rising to her own crescendo and with one final crook of his fingers inside of her, she climaxed. Her scream of ecstasy created a mesmerising symphony solely for him drowned out by the ear-splitting crescendo above their heads. Her orgasm racked through her as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of her prolonging her bliss. The music coursed through her and his fingers stretched her cunt in perfect harmony. Sebastian didn’t think the finest musicians in the world could create a sweeter sound than she released when her earth shattered. 

She slumped bonelessly against his chest breathing heavily as he removed his fingers from her tight heat, keeping his thumb pressed against her clit to slowly coax her down from her high. She chuckled at the satiated hum she released that sent vibrations through his body.

“Next time you think about keeping a secret. Remember we make the sweetest music together.”

[fierymiasma]

➷ Never Tickle a Sleeping Dragon ➷ // ominis x sebastian x f!mc

Summary: Ominis catches Sebastian and f!MC sneaking out of their shared house again, off on another dangerous adventure without him. Luckily, they know just how to make it up to him.

Tags: Fluff, Domestic Bliss, OT3, Silver Ttrio, Making Out, Aged Up! characters, Living Together

Word Count: 3.8k 🍃

|| My Other Work || AO3 ||

Ominis tapped his foot against the rug impatiently.  He'd been sitting in their living room, tea now cold at the side table, awaiting the other two's return.  He checked his magical watch again, only two minutes since the last time he'd check.

The nerve of those two.  Sneaking out in the dead of the night while he was asleep.  Doing Merlin knows what, going Merlin knows where.  Ever since the three of them decided to move in together, to make things official, he made them promise him that all of those unsanctioned not work-related adventures would come to an end.  He never wanted to be a widower at age 20 for Merlin's sake.  And yet, somehow, despite all their vows, he's been up since midnight impatiently waiting for their arrival back home.

At last, their front door open, creaking quite loudly despite their best efforts.  His two lovers had arrived back home, unaware that the real danger had just begun.

"Shhhh, sweetheart, you're going to wake him up.  Ominis will be livid if he knew what we'd been up to."  Sebastian whispered rather loudly all the way across the house.  They all were really getting older if Sebastian thought he was being sneaky.

He heard the front door gently click closed.  One of them locked it quietly. A feminine voice whisper-retorted, "Well, we would have cleared out those dungeons much sooner if someone didn't wake up the sleeping dragon."

Ominis could feel his heart in his throat.  A dragon?  Were they hurt?  If they weren't injured already, Ominis was going to make sure they were.

There was the sound of shuffling.  They were trying to take off their adventuring gear that they thought Ominis didn't know they had.  Sebastian teased.  "In all fairness, I thought our Hogwarts motto about tickling sleeping dragons was a small suggestion at best, or a defiant dare at the most."

One of them must have knocked over the umbrella stand loudly, making a rather loud crashing sound.  There was a sound of agony and swearing. 

"Shhhhhhh.  You'll wake him up!" She scolded Sebastian.  "If Ominis finds out where we've been, then we'd really be dead."

Ominis sighed, finishing the rest of his tea. Well, it seems like that was his cue.  Quietly getting out of his comfortable armchair, he strolled into the entrance room, his wand lighting his way.

"If Ominis finds out what?"  Ominis drawled announcing his dramatic entrance.

"Oh, bollocks!" Sebastian swore, knocking over the umbrella stand once again, causing a cacophony of tumbling knickknacks and overturned shoes.

"Ominis!"  She yelped.  Her voice had a nervous tone.  "Oh, darling, did we wake you up?"  She kissed him on both cheeks in greeting.  "Why don't we all go back to bed?"

Ominis has been with the pair of them too long to be distracted by placating kisses, no matter how sweet.  "And where are you two coming from?"

"-Taking out the rubbish-" Sebastian answered way too quickly.

"-Letting out the cat-" She blurted out at the same time.

The guilty duo stared at each other, now caught. 

Sebastian scowled.  Hands on his hips, he turned to their female partner.  "We don't even have a cat, sweetheart."

She frantically worried at her hands.  "You know I'm not very good at lying." 

Ominis was furious.  "I wake up, in the middle of the night, to find that our bed is once again empty.  No note, no sign of any of you two in the house."  The rid tip of his wand made angry sparks.  "You went off on one of your ridiculously dangerous, stupidly reckless adventures, didn't you?  You made a promise to me the last time this happened that you won't go gallivanting off to any more abandoned castles."

"Technically," Sebastian murmured under his breath as his girlfriend desperately jabbed him in the stomach to get him to shut up.  "No promises were broken.  I did swear, no more crumbling castles this time, Ominis.  We were in an abandoned dungeon this time.  Quite different scenarios really."

"Shut up, Sebastian!"  She whispered through gritted teeth.  "The second he finds out we had to duel a dragon; we're going to be in real trouble."

"Oh, I already know."  Ominis declared.  "I can't believe the two of you.  Fighting dragons?  Fighting trolls?  This isn't Hogwarts anymore!  You can't just floo powder your way back to the infirmary and expect everything to work itself out!"

She nodded rapidly, falling to pieces under Ominis interrogation.  "Ominis, I'm so sorry.  I didn't mean to."  Sebastian rolled his eyes.  She always folded so easily for Ominis.  "I really mean it.  I didn't want to make you upset.  I know we promised.  But this time-"

Sebastian covered her mouth with his hands before she could spout out any more damning evidence.  "Ominis, it was just an errand run.  Nothing more than that, I swear, on Salazar Slytherin himself."

Ominis narrowed his eyes not fooled by Sebastian's lies.  He could smell burnt fabric, as if someone's sleeve had been a bit too close to the dragon's breath.  The air smelled ferric, as if there was blood spilt, either theirs or their enemies.  He sighed.  "I don't even want to know what you two were up to.  Merlin knows if I knew half of the stuff the two of you did, I'd be sent to an early grave."  He walked up to Sebastian.  Ominis ran gentle fingers over Sebastian's face, trying to map out any new cuts or bruises.  Sebastian chased his fingers with butterfly kisses as if trying to apologize for scaring him.  

"Are you two hurt?" he asked.

"No."

"Never, not even a scratch on her." 

Ominis nodded, stiffly.  "Good, I’m glad to see you both in one piece."

Ominis let the false sense of security wash over them.  The relief was palpable as they relaxed their tense shoulders, seemingly having weathered the storm of one of Ominis' infamous lectures.

Now that he knew they were safe, unharmed, and uninjured.  Ominis could finally give them a piece of his mind. He exploded.

"Again!  The two of you!  Why, I've had it up to here with the two of you.  Making me worried sick.  Look at me, I'm losing my hair, sick with worried.  I stayed up all night worried that one of you will come back in a coffin.  When we decided to be together, to properly be together, we all swore an oath to keep each other safe.  And here you are again, constantly breaking our vow to me, sneaking out in the dead of the night, not knowing if you'll ever come back in one piece.  Why, I'm so crossed I'm at a loss for words."

Despite claiming to be speechless, the guilty duo had to sit and listen to Ominis' tirade for the better parts of an hour.  As Ominis stopped to catch his breath, and calm his nerves, Sebastian decided now was the best time to chime in.

"Well, I've certainly learned my lesson." Sebastian interrupted rather boldly despite his girlfriend's increasingly panicked expression.  "I'm glad we were able to come to another agreement, love.  But really, Ominis you needn't needlessly worry.  We're the two best duelists in all of England."  He bragged.  "Even the ministry's hitwizards have nothing on us.  All of your worrying is just going to give your wrinkles."

Ominis whipped around to face him.  "You are not to speak for the rest of the night.  Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir."  Sebastian gulped.

"And you," The tides of Ominis' wrath turned to his girlfriend.  "Again, and again, time after time, you let Sebastian and the whole population in London talk you into doing these insanely reckless activities.  Fetching dragons' eggs, fighting a whole horde of inferi, Merlin, when will you finally learn to say no?"  She looked down at her feet.  It felt eerily similar to their first meeting together.  "I don't know what's worse Sebastian's defiance of my direct orders or your constant need to please people at the expense of your own health."

The people-pleasing Hufflepuff in question could feel the tears threatening to make their appearance.  She wrapped her arms around Ominis, paradoxically wanting to seek comfort from the very man that was angry at her.  She buried her face in Ominis' chest, trying to hide herself away from his painful words.  "I'm so sorry, Ominis."  Her words were mumbled into his soon-to-be-wet sweater.  "Please don't be angry at me….or Sebastian."

Ominis sighed.  Dating two such different people was thrilling in its own right but also quite difficult at times.  Where Sebastian has not been immune to his moments of explosive emotions, their girlfriend lived and died by Ominis praises and words of affection.  Ominis tried his best, never to raise his voice at her.  But he was only human, and in moments like these where Ominis wasn't sure if they were safe or even alive at all…it was hard.  He did feel slightly bad.  It was just like their first meeting together, when he hear the new girl with the beautiful voice step out of Sebastian and his Undercroft.  The Gaunt family's wrath was perhaps one of the only things he did inherit from them.

It was always too hard to be angry at his lovers for any amount of time.  Hugging her back, he rested his cheek on the top of her head.  He ran his delicate hands through her hand, soothing her despite still being quite cross with her.

 "Darling, I'm not angry anymore.  Just disappointed in you.  I expect much better from someone as extraordinary as you."

She hated it when Ominis yelled at her.  Somehow it was much different compared to her screaming matches that she would have with Sebastian.  When the usual level-headed, calm Ominis yelled at her, he was most definitely in the right.  Now, the quiet disappointment?  This was much much worse than Ominis being angry at her.  Sebastian came closer to the pair, rubbing her lower back in support. 

It was always the same pattern time after time.  Ominis would get furious at the two of them for something that Sebastian would convince their girlfriend to do.  A very stern talking to and lecture would be had.  It always ended up in one of two ways.  Sebastian would sweet talk his way back into Ominis' good graces (and back into their shared bed), or she would unintentionally be her charming, selfless, kind-hearted self and just evaporate any of Ominis' anger. 

"So!"  Sebastian clapped his hands cheerily.  "It's been quite a long day.  I'm knackered and would love a good sleep in between the most handsome wizard in London and the most gorgeous witch in all of England.  Let's put this poor girl to bed, shall we Ominis?  I think she's quite learned her lesson."

"Oh, don't you think you can get away so easily, Sebastian."

Drat.  He really did hope that would work this time around.

Perhaps it was time for a different approach.  He moved behind the hugging couple snaking his arms in between the others' embrace, standing on the tips of his feet to rest his jaw on the taller man's shoulder.  Embracing Ominis from behind, he used his signature Sebastian Sallow voice that would have had schoolboy Ominis wrapped entirely around his finger.  "C'mon Ominis.  We've already apologized.  It's been a tiring evening."  Sebastian's lips tickled Ominis' ears, sending shivers down the man's spine.  "Please, let the both of us make it up to you."  He playfully nipped Ominis' ears before dropping his voice down an octave.  "I can promise you that our apologies are best heard in the bedroom." 

Sandwiched between his girlfriend's kraken like embrace in the front, and Sebastian's seductive voice from behind, Ominis knew where this was going.  He extricated himself from the two of them, drying his tear-stained shirt with a quick flick of his wand.

"Don't even think about it, Sallow.  In no way, am I rewarding your bad behavior tonight.  You can start by making it up to me by doing the dishes for a week."

Sebastian shrugged.  Well, all things concerned, that could have gone a lot worse.

"Without magic."

"What!  Come off it.  What's the point in that?!"  Sebastian protested.  He shot a look at his girlfriend.  "Hang on, why do I have to the do the dishes while she gets no punishment."

She sniffed, drying her eyes with the back of her hands.  "Yes, please, let me make it up to you.  I feel so awful for letting you worry about us.  I had no idea how much our nighttime outings affected you."  Ominis could feel his shoulders soften.  "You always cook us the most amazing dinners, Ominis.  And we immediately betray your love by sneaking behind your back the moment you go to sleep.  Let me at least prepare our meals for the rest of the week.  It's the least I can do."

Ominis sighed, running his hand through his hair.  "No, darling, that's quite all right. You don't have to do that for me."

"What!"  Sebastian sputtered.  "Oh, come on, Ominis.  Are you favoring her over me?"  Sebastian's jealousy couldn't help but rear its ugly head once again.  He couldn't help but worry, once again, if he was being left behind.

The blond man scoffed.  "Hardly.  Different people need to be punished differently.  Our girl thrives off of helping other people, getting praise, and being a little bit of a doormat."  He turned to her, hands on his hips, about to deliver the final devastating blow.  "There's nothing that you could do that would make me feel better.  You've really betrayed my trust today,"

Her expression was crushed.  Tears spilled over onto her cheeks.  "Merlin, this is ten times worse than any punishment at Azkaban."

Sebastian gaped at her.  Unbelievable.  "You are such a Hufflepuff sometimes."

She wiped her eyes before sticking her tongue out at him.  "Ominis tells me you're a bad influence, and I should stop listening to you." 

Sebastian pinched her bum in retaliation, delighting in the squeal of surprise she made. 

"Enough," Ominis said before this would get out of hand.  If he didn't stop this now, sooner or later clothes would start going missing.  "You both are sleeping on the couch together."

"There's only one couch!"  Sebastian protested.

"Then I suppose you'll have to figure out a solution.  Good night, the both of you." 

For the rest of the week, Ominis gave them the cold shoulder.  He did a stunning rendition of the Bloody Baron, drifting about their shared home with an aristocratic disdain for the other two.  ("Do you think he's still mad at us" he heard her whispering in the garden.  Sebastian snorted.  "Hardly.  Ominis is just being dramatic as usual.  You'll see.  He'll come around.") 

Ominis sighed, pinching his nose.  It was hard enough trying to juggle…whatever it was that the three of them had with his job at the Ministry.  Over the past week, his paperwork as an Unspeakable had piled up on his desk.  He was lucky that he was able to finish the majority of it today. Returning back home, he couldn't wait to make a nice quick meal, something comforting and warm.  Opening the front gate of their house, he mused over which book he was going to choose to read by the fire.  As he walked to the front of the door, his cheery mood started to dissipate.  Loud clanging and clashing sounds were coming from their kitchen.  Ominis could hear Sebastian yelling something.  Oh Salazar, what were those two up to now?

"Sebastian, the stove is way too hot!  You're burning it!  Let me cook.  I actually know what I'm doing."

"Says the one who managed to injury herself twice within 5 minutes of this whole mess.  You know, for being the best duelist of the three of us, you're awfully talented at getting yourself hurt."

"That's not what happened, and you know it, Slytherin.  Oh Merlin, why on earth does it look like that?  Is it supposed to be grey?"

"You think he would notice?"

There was a hacking coughing sound.  As if someone had taste tested their food and found it rather wanting.

"Oh, Merlin's beard, he's definitely going to think we're trying to poison him.  What on earth did you put in that, Sebastian?"

"Frankly, I haven't had the foggiest clue.  Can we call Deek for help, now?  We tried your way, being all cute and romantic, and look where that got us.  We should have done it my way from the start and just taken him to bed."

"Sebastian, not every relationship problem can be solved by a romp in the sheets."

Sebastian made a noise of disagreement.  "Hasn't stopped working for me yet." 

Ominis hovered in front of their front door.  Reluctant to open it and learn of the true extent of whatever damage they did to his poor house.  Maybe it was better if he just walked away and let this one play out.  Who knows?  Maybe they could pull through and not destroy the house he worked very hard to decorate and make a home. Maybe if he came back an hour later,  his girlfriend and boyfriend would be appropriately behaved, good, model-citizens.

"Maybe try incendio."  Sebastian suggested.  "If you burn the evidence, it's like it never existed."

"Hmmm….unfortunately, you might be right.  I'm running out of ideas on how to salvage this."

Oh, Merlin's beard.

The front door banged open, interrupting any more awful suggestions.  Ominis strolled in, wand out, ready to put a stop to whatever mayhem was happening in his kitchen.

The pair of them frozen, like two Nifflers robbing a bank.  For once in her life, she was glad Ominis was blind.  Maybe, he wouldn't notice the dough that had somehow stuck itself to the tiled ceiling.  Or how one of the freshly painted cabinet doors was hanging off by only one of its two hinges.  Or how her and Sebastian were both covered in questionable liquids.  Maybe, he wouldn't smell the burnt food or notice how one of his favorite tea towels that they bought for his birthday had been completely vanished (along with a few more traces of their culinary sins).

"Ominis!"  Sebastian greeted brightly.  "Just in time, we've almost finished with making you supper!"

"Is that what we're calling this fiasco?"  Ominis asked drily.  Merlin, he didn't want to even use his wand as a guide to "see" his way around the kitchen.  Maybe it was better that he didn't know the full extent of the damage.

His girlfriend approached him, gently taking his outer coat, scarf, and hat from his hands to hang it up in its proper places with the flick of her wand.  Her hands found his as she rubbed soothing circles on his cold skin.  "Ominis, Sebastian and I, well, we feel downright rotten for last week."  Sebastian snorted in the background.  "We can see how much our adventures affect you.  I can't make any promises that it won't happen again.  Or that Sebastian won't convince me to do something stupid again." 

"Oi!"  The offended man said in the background, throwing his hands in the air.

She ignored him.  "But what I can promise you is that we'll communicate better with you.  We'll tell you well in advance.  We'll tell you where we go, what we're expecting, and what time we'll be home by.  No more of this sneaking around in the dead of the night.  No more lies or hiding things from you."

Ominis could feel the tension in his stomach relax a bit.  "Well, I suppose it's unfair for me to demand you stop something that brings you two so much joy."  He chewed on his tongue thoughtfully.  "I'm amendable to this new arrangement.  I only ask that I not be left in the dark.  You have no idea how awful it is waking up in the middle of the night not knowing if you'll be left alone for the rest of your life."

Sebastian was behind to them, snaking his hand around Ominis thin waist and peppering kisses on the side of his pale neck.  "You shan't be alone.  We'll always be here."  His mouth was dangerously close to Ominis's pulse.  "From now on, you have an indefinite invitation to come to any one of our outings.  Merlin knows someone needs to witness the majesty that is Sebastian Sallow."  The other two snickered.  "Now come on Ominis,” Sebastian hands made their journey towards Ominis's belt.  "Let us make it up to you."

Ominis could feel how weak he was to Sebastian's tactics.  With their sweetheart in front, now pressing soft kisses on Ominis's hands, and Sebastian behind him, chin tucked on Ominis's shoulder, Ominis could feel his will waver.  Sebastian angled Ominis's chin towards him, eyes flickering to the other man's kips.  Whatever protests Ominis had in his mind were now entirely forgotten, too busy being kissed by his boyfriend.   

They kiss for what feels like an entirety until Ominis has to pull back for air.  Then, their lover kissed Ominis, hard, before he could catch his breath.  Ominis ran his long fingers through her hair.  Her hands have worked their way up to Ominis's chest and finding Sebastian's tie.  Her hands were wrapped tightly around the necktie pulling him in, refusing to let him go.  Sebastian couldn't stop grinning marveling at his own luck having successfully wooed the two most beautiful people on earth.

When she broke apart from poor Ominis, who was entirely winded, she tugged on the green tie, pulling Sebastian forward.  He gladly met her half-way, arms curling around her waist. 

 Ominis supposed one week of giving them the cold shoulder was punishment enough.  Except-

"What about the kitchen?  Weren't you two trying to make something?"

The other two separated from their kiss, arms still around each other.  The mischievous pair blinked owlishly, their eyes too innocent and too childlike.

"What are you talking about, Ominis?  I haven't had the foggiest idea what you mean."  Sebastian tried.

"We made…a small mess." she confessed.  "I think Sebastian was trying to poison you to steal your family fortune."

Sebastian laughed, before reaching around to Ominis to kiss him on the cheek. 

"Don't get too cocky," Ominis warned without any real heat.  It was hard to be intimidating when his boyfriend was kissing the edge of his lips, and his girlfriend was leaving bruising marks on Ominis's neck.  "Just because you two try to do something cute.  My mood can change at any time." 

"Mmhmm." Sebastian agreed, before teasingly nipping at Ominis's lips. 

Ominis sighed, fully relenting to the fact that he was too easy on them.  His pants were getting tighter, and his heartbeat quicken.  "I believe, there was something you two were meaning to show me upstairs?"

He could feel the other man's grin on his cheek.  Sebastian purred.  "Now, that's the spirit."

Their girlfriend guided his hand towards the staircase, "Come on, Ominis.  Sebastian and I have something in store for you in the bedroom."  Sebastian laughed, young and carefree.

Ominis shook his head with a smile on his face.  The two of them, incorrigible.  "Lead the way." Ominis answered.