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strawberrystepmom · 7 months ago

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ready to eat

pairing: Yami Sukehiro x F!Noble Reader

word count: 4.9k

contents: NSFW - minors and ageless blogs dni, I will hard block you. Takes place in canon universe, there is a slight age/experience difference insinuated between the pairing but reader is at least 25, reader has named magical ability (movement magic), so much banter, oral sex (f receiving and finishing and it's sexy)

cw: mentions of marriage and misogyny, virginity (reader is a virgin)

notes: brain rot has proven to be fatal so here you are. this is open ended and i would not consider it a oneshot bc i'd love to write more about these two. hope you enjoy! thank you for reading ♡ | crossposted to ao3, divider by @cafekitsune

you can find more about these two here, here, here and here 🖤

Nighttime is your time, a lesson you taught yourself independent of your instructors many years ago.

Movement magic allows you the luxury of blending in with your scenery, rushing unseen toward a capital district that is on the opposite end of where your family has made their name. Nobody here would recognize you even if you were less discreet, cloak gathered around your face and obscuring any unidentifiable features, and the freedom is indescribable; better than every sunny day or freshly made tea dessert.

You are free to be yourself. Unmarried, unattached, unimportant, it doesn’t matter. You stumble into the usual inn you make your domain until the sun rises, ready to watch the way people you have little in common with live. If anyone knew you’d get reprimanded, probably rightfully, though you have never quite understood the scandal that lies in being a well informed woman. Your mother was a gossip and isn’t that another way to become informed?

It’s society's acceptable way, anyway.

You slink into the corner table, away from the crowd gathered nearer the bar, and slip your hood off of your face. No glances of recognition from anyone else, too engrossed in their own drinks and their own conversations, and you sink down against the back of the chair you’re sitting in. It’s nice to be anonymous, you decided months ago when you began doing this. You aren’t certain you want to continue being so inconspicuous when you remind yourself why you’ve been doing this to begin with - to gain even the slightest bit of the life experience that continues to elude you. To love and laugh and feel joy that you’ve been told only comes with marriage, something you are too apprehensive about committing to.

It’s why you come namelessly into a district that does not belong to you or your kind. You hope that someone will find you interesting, a beaten path off their life’s track. Someone to laugh with or tell stories to. It’s all you’ve ever really wanted, a romantic to your core despite the decidedly unromantic life you lead. Caretaking, getting earfuls from your father about being a responsibility that the family no longer wants to have when taking your age and failed proposals into consideration. So lost in your own thoughts, you barely notice when a man slides into the chair next to you, glancing down at your hands and then at your face.

“You need to stop wearing whatever is making you smell like that.”

The interruption to your quiet evening makes you jump, no longer dissociating and now in the present. You recognize the man sitting next to you, a captain of a Magic Knights squad. Their faces are plastered all over the capital and you’re shocked that he stumbled into such a low brow establishment though getting a look at him up close convinces you that he may not be in the entirely wrong spot.

“Captain Sukehiro,” you offer politely, formal as ever. “I regret having to request clarification from a man as esteemed as yourself but what do you mean?”

The captain snorts, shaking his head in response to you as though your manners are piteous instead of a courtesy that should be extended to all.

“Don’t call me that, Yami is fine.” He sniffs, stuffing a cigarette between his lips. “I’m talking about the shit you’re wearing that is filling every corner of this place. People don’t wear things that make them smell like bakeries around here.”

Scrunching your nose, you lift your wrist to your nose for a sniff. He’s referencing the perfume you spritzed on after bathing and the way it sticks to you, the smell wafting around the table with every move you make. It hasn’t caught any eyes yet, thankfully, but he can see how this will end if you don’t correct your mistake now.

“What are you doing around here anyway? I figured women of your, uh, breed or whatever stuck to their own districts.”

Bristling slightly at his insinuation that you find yourself too good to hang out here, you square your shoulders and clear your throat. A low chuckle rumbles in Yami while he lights his cigarette, raising his brows and eagerly awaiting whatever argument you are clearly cooking up in that little head of yours.

“I’ll have you know that I enjoy exploring parts of the city that I rarely see. I am out here thanks to my own curiosity.” Your eyes shift from Yami toward the rest of the tavern, a small smile on your face watching the patrons laugh amongst themselves. “I think it’s really wonderful that people are happy no matter how they were born into this world and I’m thankful to be able to experience this side of life too.”

The captain could spend all night laughing at your naivety if you’d let him but he doesn’t wanna let you dig any deeper of a hole than you’re already finding yourself in. You’re clearly a fully grown woman, even the doll-like roundness of your eyes and cheeks can’t convince him you’re under 25 judging from the way you carry yourself. You aren’t the first noble girl he has ever seen sneak off in an attempt to find herself yet it strikes him as hilarious you clearly believe it.

“So you aren’t like the other nobles? You see people as people?” The brusque individual takes a long drink from the mug in his hand, Adam’s apple bobbing while he swallows, your eyes fixed on the sheer size of his neck and throat. “What do you want? A prize?”

Even the enticing muscles of his body (how can one person have so many muscles bulging off of them anyway?) cannot distract enough to forget that he’s insulting you. You place your hands in your lap and fiddle with the edge of the cloak that covers the simple nightgown you are wearing, covering it enough that no one is suspicious about why you’re wearing nightclothes in the first place.

“No, I’m simply telling you what I’m doing here because you asked.”

Sipping from his mug, the man glances you up and down. He swallows and squares his shoulders.

“Okay? That still doesn’t tell me what you’re actually doing here, you’re only talking about feelings and shit.” Another sip and he places his ale down. “So what are you doing here? Isn’t it a little late for your type to be out with the rest of us?”

He considers you for a moment. Not bad looking. Pretty, even. Not plain in the way some overly manicured noble women can come across and you clearly aren’t using magic to enhance anything about you or else he’d notice. He’s a pro at sniffing out transformation magic in women having seen so many who have taught themselves to dabble in the arts to subtly tweak their appearances. You sigh and he finds it impressively naive to do so, your shoulders pinching in while you exhale sharply out of your nose.

“I’m looking for someone to help me.” Now this is interesting. He raises a brow, glancing you up and down. You lean toward him, creating a veil of intimacy in a crowded tavern, elbows resting on the table rudely. “I, um, I fear I’ll be woefully unprepared for my marriage bed once the time arrives and I want to avoid embarrassment. I’m already too old to be considered marriageable to most and my heart could not take physical rejection from my husband as well.”

“You’re a virgin and feel weird about it and now you’re makin’ it my problem.”

Gasping, your eyes widen and you shake your head rapidly. Yami smirks when he senses how quickly your heart is pounding beneath those layers of fabrics most in this place could only ever dream of seeing much less feel against their skin, curious enough that he won’t just tell you to get lost at this point.

“Please do not repeat my predicament so loudly, Captain Sukehiro.” You whisper hiss, fighting the urge to kick him beneath the table as you do the rest of your fathers’ unruly issue you are the eldest of. “It’s not something I’m terribly proud of.”

The captain scoffs, humming to himself and adjusting his posture so that he’s leaning toward you instead of on the back of his chair, cigarette dangling from his fingers. You’ve captured his attention, at least for now, and he’ll give you all of it that you can handle. Pursing his lips, he glances around the bar for a split second before focusing on you, gray eyes locked on your pouting mouth.

“Then why is it your situation in the first place? Thought you nobles were too proud for your own good.” He flicks the lighter in his pocket. “And don’t call me that. Yami is fine.”

You should find it very rude that you are being asked so many questions and being made to suit so many demands made by a lesser born to begin with but the curiosity feels like deeply personalized attention, causing you to bloom in response. Hunched shoulders stretch out, the graceful posture you’ve spent what would amount to months of your life if you stretched the hours out perfecting appearing. No one at home is this curious about you outside of when you will no longer be around to tend the younger children your father continues to spawn and it feels different to be the center of a man’s attention.

Not a weak, defanged little noble whose only function is to act as an additional limb for his father. A man with rough hands and battle scars and overgrown hair down his neck.

“I haven’t felt a spark with any of the men I’ve been introduced to. They’re lovely individuals with proud lineage but it has always felt so…” you search around the room, lifting your hand to your mouth to idly nip at the cuticle around your thumbnail. “Forced. I don’t want to be with them and they do not want to be with me. Four men and none of them made me feel like I could spend the rest of my life with them.”

Once again, Yami chuckles at your predicament. Your cheeks heat in response, ears tingling and burning as that familiar feeling of being mocked encourages you to retreat inward. The awareness that you do not have to put up with this kind of treatment from a man beneath your station

“Sounds like you’re hard to impress, kid.” A plume of smoke is blown over your head, the cigarette he was holding now dangling from his lips while he examines you with narrowed eyes. “Little darling won’t settle for less than a fairytale.”

Retreating further into yourself, you move your hands from your lap to fold your arms over your chest.

“I’m no child, obviously.”

Your retort is as petulant as your posture and the man smirks, the corner of his mouth jumping, tenting his fingers in front of him and leaning toward you. Despite himself, he likes you. Your willingness to shit here and just shoot the shit with him has impressed him but not enough to let you off easy.

“You’re here beggin’ for attention like one so I dunno about all that.”

Scoffing, you shift in your chair but make no effort to get up. You won’t be picked off by him that easily.

“You know nothing about me, sir.” You raise your brows and shift your head to emphasize your point, arms still folded. A grown woman behaving like a little brat shouldn’t draw a man like this in yet he considers himself intrigued, stamping out the nearly depleted butt of his cigarette on the edge table in front of him.

“Can’t argue with that. Keep talking.”

He leans back in his chair and sizes you up, boots stacked on top of each other where his ankles are crossed and his long legs are extended out in front of him. It’s one thing to be keeping him here against his will because you won’t stop talking, it’s another when he is a willing audience. Your mouth runs dry and you gradually unfold your arms, placing them above your knee so you can subtly rid your clammy palms of the prickling sweat across them.

“I want to experience the things that a husband and wife are to experience together though I do not have anyone to enjoy them with.” Even the way nobles describe sex is stuffy and uncomfortable, Yami realizes, brows raising slightly. He lets you continue speaking before butting in, letting his arms dangle from the sides of the chair. “Perhaps it’s wrong of me to believe it will change my luck but I won’t change my mind. I have to know how to…perform.”

Perform is such an interesting choice of word. All of the sex the captain has ever had has been far less of a performance and more of a two person dance, locked in repetitive motions and tangled up as one form. He isn’t much for the sappy, intimate shit you’re clearly insinuating you’d like though he feels like he could help you.

“I’ll tell you what,” he starts, leaning back toward you and closing the distance to once again grant you some semblance of privacy. “I can show you how a man should treat a woman but I can’t promise you it’s how a husband will treat his wife, you understand?”

Your eyes widen and you nod once, picking up on his meaning immediately. Impressed by your sharp wit he smiles although it’s nearly as unfriendly as the ones exchanged at court and only slightly less smug. Leaning in toward him, your brows knit together, and you bunch your skirt up in your fists.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for, you know…” you trail off, frowning slightly. He pretends like he doesn’t understand what you mean, shaking his head and staring vacantly at your mouth. “I don’t know if I’m ready for you to take me.”

Another snort from him and your face heats like a wildfire. The two of you remained locked in this strange posture, whispering but not quite, discussing the terms of whatever is occurring here. Blood rushes from your face to your chest to your stomach, a familiar tense feeling between your legs making you shift uncomfortably in your chair.

“The only one who would be doing any taking in that scenario is me and you don’t have to worry about that tonight.” He tips his mug and finishes off the last droplets of his ale, sliding the empty vessel across the table top where it stops just short of you.

“What if we never see each other again after tonight?” That sappy shit he was right to assume you wanted has surfaced earlier than he expected. He shrugs flippantly, arching a brow. “Then we never see each other tonight but at least you can say you know how it feels when a man takes care of you.”

Inhaling loudly, you weigh your options.

You can always get up and go home, turn tail and run to where you will always be viewed as something akin to a decorative sconce on the wall instead of a human being. Your opinion matters not, you’re a glorified caretaker for your younger siblings, some of who are your fathers rightful heirs thanks to the boyhood the Gods so mercifully granted them. You can retreat and continue wasting away waiting for a man who thrills you enough that you can ever see him as someone deserving of being your equal.

Or, you can consider Yami’s offer. He’s rough around the edges and speaks with no formality or regard and you like it. At least you think you do. He doesn’t care who you are any more than the others around you do yet he makes you feel the most seen anyone ever has. He’s interested in your words, your ideas, and even your pleasure - a realization that makes the knot in your stomach tighten further.

“Okay.” You concede. “I think that I’d like that.”

The man rises from his seat, smirking, tossing some coins down on the table in front of him for the drink.

“I know you will,” he finishes, words dripping with honesty but not arrogance.

He begins to head toward the stairs that will lead the two of you upstairs and your breath catches when he looks over his shoulder and raises his brows, signaling with a wave that you should follow him. You toss a few more coins on the table in front of you, uncertain of how much a room in an establishment like this would cost to begin with, and rush to follow him with your cloak pulled tightly against your body.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

This room is nothing like your quarters at home where everything around you gleams in gold and marble and silk. It may be decidedly less impressive though it’s twice as cozy if you’re honest.

The bed is barely large enough for two and there’s a well loved desk pushed against the wall, magical light flickering from the wall. Shutting the door unceremoniously, you swallow and feel the captain at your back, a large palm covering the entirety of the space between your shoulder blades. You don’t recall him seeming so imposing downstairs, glancing upward to meet his eyes. He can tell you are inexperienced solely by how skittish you’ve become beneath his fingertips, an intriguing shift from who you were sitting opposite him.

Boldly asking a man to pleasure you has told him everything about the person you are beneath the skirts and the trappings of society. If he waits long enough he knows that hungry girl will once again show her face to him and while he isn’t particularly patient, he believes it would be worth his while to wait.

“Go sit on the edge of the bed.” He instructs right above your ear and gently shoves you toward where he’s commanded you be.

You follow directions and sit, legs dangling off of the edge, unfastening your cloak and letting it rest on the bed. The knot in your belly remains tight, keeping you on edge with all of your movements while your walls throb weakly, arousal and curiosity bearing down on you with similar weight. Sukehiro towers over you, slowly unfastening his belt and cloak, leaving the leather goods and his katana on the desk.

“I’m going to lick your pussy. Do you know what that means?”

Cheeks warming, once again surprised by his lack of decency, you nod once. You have read about this particular act more than once and have also heard about it secondhand from some of the married women you call friends although their reviews have been mixed. Books have always made it seem far more interesting, an exchange in the same way a kiss is between a man and the paradise between a woman’s legs.

“Good, at least I won’t have to explain all the technicalities.” He approaches you slowly and squats down, now face level with your middle. You glance down at him and wonder if you should touch him, if he’d like it, if he’d want you to. “Lift your hips.” The next command gives you reprieve from overthinking and you do as asked, raising them enough that he can pull your nightgown from beneath your thighs, spreading them to fit between.

“If you don’t like something, speak up.” He glances up at you, holding your nightgown halfway over his face. “If you do like something, speak up and I’ll keep goin’.”

The linen of your nightgown stretches and tents in the shape of Yami’s head and shoulders when he pulls it over himself, too big to be fully covered by the fabric. His back is curled into a C shape and the muscles ripple while he positions you, hands that you can feel but cannot see gripping the outside of your soft thighs to keep you from deciding at the last minute you are feeling shy.

It’s too late for you to fall back on the shy act now, your panties dangling off of one of your ankles. Even if you attempted, you know the man currently fixated on spreading you open with his fingers would surface from beneath your skirt and laugh at you. Your heart simply could not take the open derision and ridicule, already feeling overextended thanks to this evening’s excitement.

“Alright, you’re about to feel something different,” he warns kindly, puffs of his breath fanning out against the slickened skin of your labia. The low rumble of his voice sends another rush of wetness seeping out of your cunt, excitement mixing with terror while you await the pleasure you were promised.

Your hips shift impatiently on the edge of the dingy inn bed, legs on either side of his still dressed torso. His tank top is untucked from his pants and he no longer wears his belt, discarding the unnecessary while remaining firmly in control of the situation. There isn’t much that makes his mouth water but the sight of warm and just for him pussy is doing just that, his tongue darting out to wet his lower lip.

His thumbs massage the outside of your thighs, keeping you as relaxed as possible, and he leans in to kiss the temptation he can no longer deny himself. A simple smack, loud enough that you can both hear it, yet the moan that escapes you is positively sinful. High pitched and breathy and immediately obscured, clapping your palm over your mouth to keep yourself quiet.

“Nope,” he simply responds from beneath your nightgown, hand reaching up to remove yours from over your mouth. “What’d I tell you? Half’a the fun is hearing how much you like it.”

One of the thumbs that was rubbing circles into your thigh now does the same on the back of your hand, calloused digit occasionally catching over the surface of your smooth skin. It’s no shock that your hands are soft like your body and your hair and your eyes, it’s what your life was meant to be like the minute you assumed the role of it. Soft and easy, no roughness to throw you off track.

Yami chuckles and lets his tongue feel you this time, dragging the wet muscle through your folds, rewarded with another of those breathy moans. You do not rush to cover this one, tilting your head backward and letting your eyes flutter shut to focus on the sensation of another lick. He takes his time to get to know you slowly, brushing the flat of it over your hole and dragging the arousal he receives as a reward upward toward your clit.

He doesn’t release his skills on your sensitive bud so quickly but a simple brush of the side of his tongue against it is enough to make you squeal, shoulders rounding in momentarily. Repeating the motion, you squeal again and arch your back, thrusting your hips forward into his face and dragging every bit of you he can see across his mouth.

“W-what are you doing to me, Yami?” You ask breathlessly, elbows propping you up on the bed and keeping you grounded. “I’ve never felt anything like this before.”

Your head swims with unfamiliar pressure, sparking a line from your brain to between your legs, all connected and you fight the urge to slump back onto the bed, too curious about the way that the light linen covering the man between your legs shrouds him.

“Eating, obviously,” he mumbles against your body, tongue lapping against your clit. Your body reacts to each touch, thighs tensing on either side of his face, hips slowly bucking in pursuit of the feeling again and again. Your back arches and your moans are staccato babbles, elbows finally failing to hold you up when he gives your clit full attention.. “Oh my, wh–,” your back arches off of the bed before you can finish your thought, another rough lick to your throbbing clit followed by the warmth of his mouth while he sucks it between his lips, flicking the bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue.

There is no denying that you may be prissy and perfectly pampered but he was clearly correct in his assumption about you being more than meets the eye. The way your body responds naturally to his ministrations, hips grinding and toes curling and lips keening, tells him every little secret you’re too demure to spill. You want to have sex for enjoyment, to chase your own pleasure and have your own fun.

He’ll never fault someone for that although he believes he can get you to admit it’s the truth. Maybe not tonight but eventually he’ll convince you to drop the “good wife” act. If he weren’t enjoying himself so much he’d grumble about considering a future where the two of you will meet up for this again, too lost in his own enjoyment of your pretty noises to realize how unreasonable this was to begin with.

“Please keep going,” you beg, a tearless sob thickening your voice.

Yami doesn’t look up, well aware of what he is capable of, but he keeps his hand over yours and continues rubbing gentle circles into it. You flip your hand and face your palm upward, loosely tangling your fingers with his, your hips now dragging across his lips wildly. It’s messy and you are dripping like a peak season fruit, drenching his chin and sending little droplets down onto his tank top and chest. Moans increase in pitch when his tongue dips inside of you, lapping at your sweetness and drinking it down with satisfied grunts, though he can tell you’re close solely by how you ride his face alone.

You lack the words to describe how you feel, not that you are a stranger to self pleasure, but it’s different when someone else is showing you the maximum of how you can feel. Every inch of you buzzes with a pleasant awareness, nerve endings sparking like celebratory fireworks, and you lift yourself up with your elbows to glance down at the man making you feel more than you ever thought possible, your nightgown no longer around his head. You were so lost you didn’t even realize he shifted to holding your nightgown up above your belly button with the hand you aren’t keeping occupied, those astute eyes appreciatively watching your chest heave and face twist.

“Yami, I think,” you start and he chuckles, sucking your clit between his lips again, sending you over the edge and effectively making sure you know how exactly it feels when someone else makes you cum.

Dots of light spark in the corners of your vision and you slump down onto the bed, too spent from the strength of your orgasm to remain upright. The perpetrator of your current state untangles your fingers from his wordlessly and he rises to standing, leaning over your exhausted body and propping himself up with his forearm.

“Good as you thought it would be?”

Giggling, you nod. It’s all you can think to do, truly left wordless and thoughtless, grateful that what you read on the pages of the books you hide amongst your more chaste picks were somewhat accurate to how the experience feels. There has been no insinuation that he expects reciprocation so you don’t bring it up, quietly glancing up at him and noticing that the distance between your face and his decreases every few seconds.

“Now taste.”

He closes the little distance left, tongue pressing against the seam of your lips. You grant him entrance and whimper when your mouth fills with the taste of his tongue, a mixture of acrid tobacco and ale and something you could only recognize as yourself.

“Pretty good, right?” All you can do is nod dumbly, still splayed awkwardly across the bed. Should you leave? Should you stay? Is that pesky reciprocation going to come into the conversation now? Yami glances down at you with something you’d almost mistake for warmth in his cool irises, rolling onto his back beside you and folding his arms over his chest. “Are you going to head home now or what?”

You shake your head, letting your flipped up skirt rest against your belly, the air of the room cooling your heated skin. “No but I’m not going to expect you to stay if you have other business to attend to. I will stay the night and leave before sunrise.”

It’s what’s polite. You did pay for an entire night, after all, and your raising will not allow you to be rude. Pushy and precocious at times but never outright disrespectful. The man next to you sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, turning his face to look at you.

Maybe you are as pretty as he originally thought. It could be all the blood rushing from his head to his dick, a problem he is attempting to solve mentally by envisioning anything but the satisfying contractions of your cunt while it cums for him, but you glow even in this low light.

“Only thing I have to do is go downstairs and drink and then I’ll just end up running my mouth and losing money.”

You giggle at his honesty, turning your face to look at him. The gruffness only adds to his aura, as unrefined as a man can be, yet you really do like it. Even if the two of you sit here in silence for the rest of the night, there’s much you feel you can learn by simply gazing at him, a quiet battle of wills unfolding between the two of you like the mist that fills the city on a summer morning.

Permeating, inescapable, potentially trouble.

#yami x reader #captain yami x reader #yami sukehiro x reader #sukehiro yami x reader #black clover x reader #black clover imagines #black clover smut #kendall writes #the bird and the bull

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s7-evermore · 10 months ago

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My Heart Stays With You | Leona Kingscholar x Mistress! Yuu/Reader

NOTE: Hey, so I can’t find the FUCKING fic I was talking about in this post and despite all my desperate searching I STILL can’t find it so I’m WRITING MY OWN VERSION OF IT until the author of that fic MESSAGES ME AND GOES “EYO DUDE WTF THAT IDEA WAS MINE” so I can search their blog and finally read the fucking story cuz istg I can’t focus on my schoolwork with that fic weighing on my mind like a curse that’s been placed on my family for 40 generations.

EDIT: someone in the comments lovingly told me who the author of the original one was and it was @/kiwibirdmother but all their posts disappeared so 🤡 fuck. LUCKILY tho I used the wayback internet thing and I managed to read them again :D if you guys want a link to it I’ll share thru dm cuz I’m too lazy to post something about it rn ejdkskxkskx

SYNOPSIS: Leona had been forced into an arranged marriage with a noblewoman, but he had already been in a relationship with Yuu. They loved each other too much, and both of them weren’t willing to let each other go. So in their own selfish ways, they stayed together despite the ring shining on his finger.

The two of them never thought it would get to this.

Leona had hoped that he would at least be able to make her his officially. All he needed to do was graduate and introduce her to his family, as reluctant as he was to let her into the royal life for the fear that she would have to carry the weight of it, he was far too selfish to let her go.

But Yuu didn’t mind at all. Just like him, she was far too selfish to let him go.

. . .

. . . .

. . .

When the news came to her that Leona had no choice but to push through with the arranged marriage, he rushed to her room in Ramshackle Dorm to hold her in his arms.

“Stay with me,” He begged that night, holding her in his arms with all the strength he could muster. “Please stay with me.”

It felt out of character for him to say those words with such strong emotion, but in the years they’ve been together, as she approached her fourth year in NRC, Leona slowly learned to lower his walls around her.

Only around her. Just her.

“Stay with me. I won’t do anything with her. I promise.”

“But…”

Hearing her strained voice and her choked sobs as she cried on his shoulder broke his heart. His heart… that he had given to her all those years ago when she accepted him with all of her being…

How unfair could the world get?

“I won’t. You’re the only one in my heart,” he stated firmly, a promise that he would hold himself to for the rest of his life.

“That stupid marriage is only for formalities. A political convenience. That woman and I don’t even have to do anything, and I don’t intend on giving myself to her. Not my love, not my mind, not my body.”

He looked into her eyes, furrowing his brows with intensity. When Yuu looked at them, she could feel the fierce heat of his love for her and his unyielding devotion.

She understood his place. He really had no say in the marriage, it had already been set in stone. Leona knew this well, and yet he couldn’t help but feel guilty… she had been so kind to him, so understanding…

“Yuu…” his voice was molten gold, and it seeped through the cracks of her heart.

“I love you. Only you. Please stay with me.”

“I will,” she said without hesitation.

He kissed her the moment she said those words, and a night of passion between them followed.

That wouldn’t be their last.

The night before his wedding, Leona drove to a villa some distance away from the palace.

It was distant from other residences and a little more solitary. Leona knew it would be perfect for Yuu, so he bought it immediately before anyone else could so she could live there with Grim after their graduation.

He knocked on the door, and it opened within a few seconds.

He felt his heart beating rapidly when he saw her face. For a moment, Leona felt at peace.

Yuu smiled, looking just as relieved, “You’re here…”

He moved to embrace her.

Ever since the arranged marriage, it was the first thing he would do whenever he visited her. An act of reassurance that he would forever be hers.

“I came just as I said I would,” He said.

“It’s tomorrow,” she quietly muttered.

“Will you go?”

“I promised I would.”

“It would hurt you…”

“It would hurt you just as much…” she said, her voice breaking, “I…I promised you that I would…always be there to comfort you…”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable any more than I already have,” he sighed. His woman was far too kind to him. He wouldn’t have blamed her if she tried to be a little petty.

“I think… I think it would make me more uncomfortable not seeing you, knowing that you would be with her…”

Leona knew that his brother was aware of his distaste for the marriage, but the will of their father, even as he lay sickly on his bed, had to be followed.

“Leona…”

He knew what that tone in her voice meant.

He looked down at her slightly, immediately noticing her half-lidded eyes and her sudden shy but sensual smile.

“Will you stay with me a little longer…?”

She didn’t even have to ask.

He pulled her to her bedroom. And there, they lost themselves into each other’s arms, wrapped up in the heat of their love.

. . .

. . . .

. . .

“Did you meet up with your friends?”

The question came to him as they basked in the afterglow of their lovemaking. She had her head against his chest, his arm around her as he slowly traced shapes on her skin.

“Jack said that you asked him and Ruggie to escort me…” she said, recalling her meeting with her friends from NRC the past week.

Leona had taken it upon himself to invite some notable people from NRC, especially those he knew she would be close with. Most of them also knew of the relationship they kept going through with, as dangerous as it was.

Vil Schönheit had actually been the one to visit her first. He was invited as Leona’s acquaintance and former school “friend”, according to Leona himself. Vil was one of the few people who knew about their continuing relationship despite Leona’s arranged marriage, and out of respect for Yuu (who Vil was clearly fond of) agreed to keep it a secret.

Kalim and Jamil were invited as well, under the pretext of Kalim being the first son of House Asim and Jamil as his servant. When they came to her home, they reminisced on old times and agreed to keep in touch.

As she told him about their visits, she remembered another thing.

“I didn’t expect you to invite Malleus to the wedding…” she said.

“He’s your friend, isn’t he?”

“Yes but…”

Although she continued writing to malleus, as he was her cherished friend, she knew that the two of them hardly got along.

“A lotta random royals, nobles and celebrities are invited out of formality, so I thought that I might as well invite someone you’re familiar with. Kalim, Vil, Idia, and Malleus came to mind at first.”

He looked down at her as he stroked her hair, “I’m sure you’ll be fine with their company. If you’re around people like them then no one should be able to bother you. I made sure to tell them all to visit you before the wedding.”

Malleus didn’t come alone, of course. Lilia, Silver, and Sebek came there as the Briar Valley prince’s attendants.

Those four weren’t daft by any means. She knew that they had probably already figured out that they were keeping their relationship a secret from the public.

“Are you alright with this?” Sebek had asked her, his voice strangely reluctant and…soft.

“We both aren’t,” she admitted to him, “But this is… the only way we could live right now.”

Malleus sighed, lamenting how unfortunate your circumstances are.

“If you need a place to belong, let us know,” He told her. “Briar Valley will welcome you with open arms.”

“Thank you…” she smiled kindly at her friends, “But I belong with Leona.”

“Leona, congratulations on your wedding.”

Leona watched as Vil approached him with Yuu around his arm.

Vil turned to the bride with a practiced smile, “and to you as well, my lady.”

“Congratulations, both of you,” Yuu said with a smile that made Leona uncomfortable. He hated her fake smiles.

He hated this. He hated all of this.

“You truly are fortunate, Lady Aisha,” her words pierced his heart like a bullet. His hands were itching to hold her in his arms. “To be wed to Leona… well, it might not be easy but…”

Yuu met his eyes, something profound shining within them, mixed with hopelessness and pain.

“I’m sure…he’ll be a very wonderful lover.”

The bride noticed the look Leona was giving the human girl while pondering the meaning of her words. With a strained smile, clearly masking her irritation, Aisha intertwined her arms around Leona’s and smiled at her.

“Oh I am well aware of that,” she says with a sickeningly sweet smile, “he is always so good to me.”

Yuu didn’t mean to take her words too far, but despite the bitterness in Aisha’s words, she smiled like a flower in bloom, masking her pain like it was nothing.

“I wish you both happiness.”

. . . .

. . . . .

. . . .

“Kifaji.”

The royal family’s long-time aid turned around at the sharp call of Leona’s new bride. Her features were marred with irritation, unbefitting of the occasion.

“Yes, my lady?” He acknowledged her calmly, ready to take every complain she has.

“Who is that woman?”

Kifaji looked at where she was pointing only to see Leona chatting with Yuu.

The aid’s expression softened at the sight of them. Leona’s eyes were unguarded as he spoke to the young woman, seemingly taking in every word she was saying. Yuu, on the other hand, despite the occasion simply seemed happy to be in the presence of the second prince.

It was the same scene he had seen quite a few years ago, when Leona brought her along with some other schoolmates for Tamashina-Mina. She was a darling little thing— she was beautiful. She got along well with their friends and Leona cared about her more than he liked to admit. But it didn’t escape Kifaji’s eyes when he saw Leona buy her a gift. A necklace the same color as his eyes, just as she requested.

“You should have chosen one with your eye color instead.” He heard Leona say to her.

“No,” Yuu shakes her head, “I like the color of your eyes better.”

She was sweet and by no means a push-over. She knew how to keep Leona in place without being pushy, and it was clear to anyone that Leona favored her greatly.

Kifaji had…hoped that he got to see Leona happy with her.

If it hadn’t been for the arranged marriage that the two princes’ father wanted… then maybe… maybe then the second prince would finally smile for the rest of his days…

“That is Miss Yuu, a long-time friend of his Highness,” he told Aisha calmly. “Prince Leona is quite fond of her, as is Prince Cheka, please do get along with her.”

“They look too close to be friends,” she quipped.

Kifaji could only do what he could for the Prince he had taken care of…

“I would not worry about that,” he said, expression unchanging, “I am certain that they are only friends.”

The lady huffed before fixing her wedding garments and going back to the party, Kifaji could finally breathe.

It was 12 AM at midnight, just two hours after the wedding and the reception ended when she heard something park itself on her driveway.

Before she could get the chance to look out the window, someone immediately knocks on the door.

In a rush, she opens the door only to see the lion that had been plaguing her thoughts, feeding the shadows whispering in her mind.

Large arms wrapped themselves around her in a warm embrace.

“I drove here as soon as everyone was asleep.”

She returned his embrace, feeling the beat of his heart against hers.

“You shouldn’t have come here.”

“I can’t stand it. She was so annoying…” he buried his nose against her hair. “All she did was complain when all I did was nap on the bed.”

Lady Aisha must have gotten angry that Leona wouldn't touch her on their wedding night... She thought to herself. The thought of Leona sharing a bed with another woman made her heartache. She wanted to erase the image in her mind..

But she couldn’t do much now, can she? He was a married man now, but it wasn’t to her… no, it was to someone else.

However…

“Aren’t you gonna welcome me home?”

He will always return to her. Never touched and never kissed by anyone else but her.

She chuckles, looking up at him with pained eyes.

“It’s your wedding night, you know…? You could at least…”

“I told you, I ain’t touchin’ her.”

“You…you don’t have to… but it might make your family mad if you suddenly—“

He places a hand under her chin and forces her to look at him before stroking her cheek.

“I don’t care,” he says with finality. “I don’t care about that stupid wedding. I don’t care about her. I don’t care about any of them.”

His forehead touches hers, a tear escapes her eye.

“I care about us.”

And he kisses her with more love than he could ever give.

Another night passes, and Leona is once more entangled in Yuu’s arms.

#AAAAAAARRGGGHHHHHH #I WROTE THIS OUT OF SPITE #I HOPE THE WRITER WHO WROTE THE THING I WAS LOOKING FOR SUDDENLY DMS ME AND SLAPS MY FACE SO I CAN GO TO THEIR BLOG AND FIND THE FIC T^T #LET LEONA AND YUU BE HAPPY #STUPID ARRANGED MARRIAGE SHIT UGH #LEONA IS SO LOYAL TO YUU YALL HE AINT TOUCHIN NO WOMAN #HE'S ON HIS WAY TO MASTERMIND THAT OTHER LADY OUT OF HIS LIFE DOE JDKFVNKSDFJNDKFJVN #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst yuu #disney twst #twst #Leona Kingscholar #Leona Kingscholar x reader #leona x reader #Mistress! Yuu

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signedkoko · 1 year ago

Note

Howdy! I have to questions, one is that I was wondering if I could be 🎧 anon? Secondly I was wondering if could request Stolas x Reader and like a blurb of reader becoming a parental figure to Octavia?

Stolas X Reader [Romantic]

In which Stolas introduces you to his daughter, and how your relationship with Octavia blooms.

Stolas and you met around the same time as his divorce was going through its first stages

You yourself were getting a divorce and had recommended to him the attorney you had for handling settlements, as well as offered the support of 'hey, at least we aren't alone!'

Later, he ran into you at a formal gala, where you both indulged in getting to know one another; you joked about how your divorces went and updated one another on life

Stolas found you so easy to talk to, and he found himself a lot less stressed when he was able to share his thoughts with someone more level-headed

Your dating life comes slow as you both work around your past and try to forgive yourself for where you've ended up, but it all feels so much easier having someone with you

You are the one to make things official, inviting him to a private dinner where you confess

Even though you told him you'd wait till he was ready, Stolas was ready right then and there and gladly accepted

He is noticeably happier and has much less trouble when Stella tries to ruin his mood

When it comes to his daughter, though, he doesn't want to rush her into meeting you, and you are more than fine staying away from his home until she is ready

Stolas mentions that he is seeing someone and tells her he won't take it any further until she gives him the right of way

When she does ask to meet you, you make sure it's just the two of you and go out for brunch at a cafe you think she'll like

Octavia is also pretty harmed by her mother, so she is very reluctant to open up to you, but she knows she likes you

You are calm, never in a rush, and always go with the flow

She likes talking to you about her parents because you never seem jealous or rude, and meeting up with you eventually becomes a habit

You really win her over when you buy concert tickets and say, 'Accidentally got a second, so you really would love if she could come with you! Oh, wha! Its your favourite band? Mine too!'

You have an amazing time, and Stolas is overjoyed to see her come back chatting you up and excitedly showing off her merchandise

He hadn't seen her like that in so long

Octavia is more than happy to have you as a parent

The first time she calls you mom is an accident

It happens on your birthday when she gifts you a record of the album you both heard at your first concert together

She never stops calling you mom after, though

Author's Note - I love Octavia sm she deserves a NICE HAPPY AND HEALTHY HOME RN!! RIGHT NOW!!! And welcome to the blog anon!! I added you so long ago and I feel so bad for the wait you had to go through,,,plz forgive me,,,,

#koko writez #helluva boss #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #helluva boss x reader #reader insert #x reader #stolas #stolas x reader

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devildomwriter · 1 year ago

Text

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.

#obey me shall we date #obey me diavolo #obey me lemon #obey me smut #omnsfw #obey me diavolo smut #omswd diavolo #omswd diavolo smut #obey me diavolo x reader #obey me asmodeus #obey me lucifer

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drdemonprince · 14 days ago

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Hey so i'm going through some stuff, and processing that by writing

In your professional opinion, is it... cool to blog about exes? Firmly anonymised, and entirely about my feelings but still. Is it freak weirdo shit or just messy bitch shit

I was once read the advice that you should never write about a person if you want to continue having that person in your life. Obviously, this is is advice I have not taken. I have written about my mom, my sister, my grandparents, my cousins, aunts, and uncles, current partners, ex-partners, friends, and coworkers. Several of these people have been very very angry with me for how I described them, or have been hurt, and it has damaged some relationships profoundly and caused others to end. Though I have often endeavored to anonymize my accounts, create composite characters, and give stories in my life the benefit of time, I have still paid quite the price. I wouldn't change the creative calling that I have listened to, or undo almost anything that I've published in no matter how formal or informal a form. But there have been costs, and perhaps it was for the best I didn't fully appreciate what they could be when I was starting out, because otherwise I might not have done any of it.

I say all of this just to give you things to consider. I'm not the one to make declarations about what is okay or what is not okay, I try not to moralize like that. It doesn't matter whether I think it's fine, whether I think you are entitled to your art, your processing, and whatever camaraderie might come of it. Regardless of the action's rightness or wrongness, other things may arise from it, too. You may alienate people or hurt them, someone might crack your anonymized code, people might sympathize and offer you community, friends or partners might grow distant because they fear getting the same vagueblog treatment should they ever wrong you. A great number of things might happen, some good, some not so great, and you can only undertake what you think is worth it for you, and weather whatever may come from it.

If what you are needing is a space to vent, there are diaries and private google docs for that. If what you seek is camaraderie, a blog, subreddit, or social media page may very well give you what you want. If you want there to be some art in this, you may find it. I certainly have. I would not be above bitching about an ex anonymously online. I have done it many many times. And it felt good and some other people resonated with it, and good things came of it, and also someone that I adored for ten years and still think about all the time will probably never ever talk to me and my mom treats me funny because my vindictiveness has scared her. I think that is unlikely to happen to you, but what is published publicly exists forever and no longer belongs to you. So just be aware of that.

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ettawritesnstudies · 2 years ago

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Etta's Guide to Writeblr (March 2023)

So you fled here from Twitter/TikTok... Where to start?

Welcome to Writeblr! Pull up a chair, open those documents, and pour yourself a cup of your favorite tea, coffee, or cocoa. The first thing you'll want to do is start following other writers. Check out this post for recommendations! Search through the notes to find hundreds more. Since I made that post, a bunch of people mentioned they're lurking and still trying to figure out tumblr, so I thought I'd make this post to help people get settled.

How to set up your blog

Make your blog name something not resembling a pornbot - it can be whatever you want, anything fun goes, just not [name###]. If you include "writer" or "author" somewhere in the url it makes it easier to spot writeblrs at a glance but it's not a requirement

Change your profile to something that's not the default, Make sure you have a blog title, and add a little description in your blog header if you feel like it!

Make a pinned post introducing yourself (pls don't use your real name or any IDing information for privacy's sake, this isn't facebook), a short summary of your WIPs, and links if you have an author's website/newsletter/ao3/etc. You can check my pinned post for an example

Make intro posts for each WIP! You can spruce these up with graphics (canva and unsplash are both great free resources to make edits/moodboards), excerpts, lists of tropes, character intros, etc. Link to the WIP intro in your pinned post so it's easy to find! You can update these as often as needed

If you want to make character intros, go wild. If you can't draw, piccrew is a great option. Just start talking about your WIP!

Come up with a tagging system to keep your blog organized. I recommend individual wip tags or at least one for your original writing in general so it's easy to search for your work on your blog

Keep track of Taglists for your WIPs. Whenever you post a new thing about your story, tag the people who asked to be notified to make sure they see it! Only tag people who ask to join the taglist, but it's a good way to keep track of interest. It's normal to have multiple taglists for each story+ one general writing taglist.

How to make writer friends

Reblog their work and add nice comments, either in the tags, comments, or the reblog itself People notice regulars in their notes and appreciate the attention. I promise it's not weird to compliment a total stranger

If that's too intimidating, community events are your friend!

Weekly Ask Games: These are weekly events that are loosely themed where writers send each other asks about their WIPs! The most common are Storyteller Saturday (about the writing process), Blorbsday (aka Blorbo Thursday about characters), and Worldbuilding Wednesday (about the setting of your story). If you answer these late, nobody really cares, but it's a fun way to receive prompts and learn more about other people's stories.

Ask Games/Memes: These are posts with lists of questions you can reblog from other people, sometimes themed or listed with emojis. It's common courtesy to send an ask from the list to the person you reblog it from, then people can send you questions as well, so you can talk about your stories! You can search for dozens of them

Tag games: There's a ton of different types of tag games, but basically someone @s you with a challenge/question, you reblog with your answer, and then @ a bunch of other people to continue the chain. Some common ones are Heads Up 7s Up (share the last 7 lines of your WIP), Last Line Tag (share the last line you wrote), and Find the Words (ctrl+f the given words in your doc and share the results, then give new words).

Formal events: These are community wide participation challenges organized by certain blogs! @writeblrsummerfest is every July?? August? I think? It's run by @abalonetea a few years strong, and there are daily prompts and ask games! @inklings-challenge is a month-long short story entry for Christian writeblrs. I think there was a valentines event in February. @moon-and-seraph is hosting a pitch week soon! Since these are more organized, it's very easy to find similar blogs and support!

Misc. Notes on using Tumblr

Follow the tags #writeblr and #writeblr community to find other writers, as well as other tags that interest you like #fantasy for example

If you want to bookmark a post to read later, you can like it and/or save it to your drafts

The queue/schedule function is very useful if you want to space out posts or have a backlog to keep your blog running when you get busy. This is good for the community because it gives older posts a chance to be rediscovered! You can change the posting frequency in the settings.

REBLOG YOUR OWN STUFF. People aren't always on at the same times and so it's the best way to account for people with different schedules and timezones. If you're worried about being annoying, you can tag those #self reblog or something similar and other people can filter the tag, but otherwise it's a welcomed and accepted practice.

If your excerpt is pretty long, put it under a cut. On desktop you can do this by selecting the squiggly button on the far right when you make a new paragraph, on mobile type :readmore: then hit enter.

It's polite to add descriptions to images and videos for visually or auditory impaired people. If you don't know how to write descriptions, here's a good resource

In your dashboard settings, it's best to shut off the options "Best Stuff First" and "Based on your Likes". These function as the website algorithm and suppresses the blogs you actually follow, which defeats the purpose of the site, letting the dash be in reverse chronological order. Also turn off Tumblr Live because it's malware as far as anyone's concerned.

Curate your experience, block the trolls, and be nice

Update for March 2024

How to shut off AI Scraping on your blog

Go to settings and find the Visibility tab

Scroll down to the tag that says "Prevent Third-Party Sharing"

Turn that knob over so that Automattic can't steal your work for their language training model databases >_<

The other settings will just hide your blog from search engines so they're useful for hiding from nosy parents or other Tumblr users but if you're trying to build an author platform you can leave them off.

Again, welcome to the community! I hope you have a ton of fun!

#writeblr #writer community #etta rambles #welcome to tumblr #guide to tumblr

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desafinado · 2 years ago

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★彡 *•.♡ calling them a term of endearment

can i call you mine, and can i call you my lover?

°｡⋆ self-indulgent, fluffy fluff, swearing, a bit suggestive

°｡⋆ alhaitham, diluc, kaveh, xiao x reader (wc:)

note: diluc’s is kinda diff bc idk i just melt every time i write him sdjfkdsjfsdf hes such a gentleman but soft i wanna spoil bb boy… also if you think pet names or cheesy or some shit or whatever this is obviously not for u, talk to the wall this is my blog

alhaitham ♡

“yes, baby?”

you settled into his lap getting a bit more comfortable, but it seemed like alhaitham had frozen into place. you had been dating for a month or so, and yes he’d often call you “dear”, but a term of endearment coming from you? and that term being “baby”? he wasn’t expecting that at all.

“i–uh. book.”

that was all he could mutter, completely forgetting what he was saying, thinking even. you giggled at the sight before you, a taken aback, nervous, and speechless alhaitham; lucky for you, you’d be the only one who got to see it. you snuggled into his chest before teasing him a bit further.

“yes, baby, what about the book?”

there it was again, “baby”. it was going to be the death of him for sure.

“baby? what… what’s the meaning of this?” you weren’t going to let him off so easily, you were gonna savor this while it lasted. “babies are humans at infancy, you know, the first stage of–”

“stop teasing for my sake, please.” he let out an exasperated sigh while you just giggled at his agony. you could get used to this, if this was gonna be the reaction every time. “okay, okay, fine. there’s no reason actually. i just wanted to call you baby, and i think i’m gonna start calling you that more often.”

“i’ll allow it.” he says a little too quickly, and you know he for sure approves as well.

“hmm… but no reason you say?” you hum in approval as he shifts so that his head rests on your shoulder. you close your eyes melting into the warmth he provided; that moment of peace was short lived, however, as he started leaving kisses on the sensitive spots of your neck.

“haitham..! y-you know i’m sensitive there!”

“i know, baby, but i just felt like it. you’re acquainted with the feeling aren’t you?”

diluc ♡

“what’s wrong, sweetheart?”

you were sitting by the window, gazing out into the vineyards of the dawn winery. it was obvious that something was running through your mind by the tense look on your face. you shook your head for a moment, before returning his gaze.

“it's nothing really. just thinking of a term of endearment for you.” you got up from your seat to approach, cup his cheeks oh so tenderly. “sweetheart, darling, honey? you have so much for me, yet i haven’t the slightest clue what to call you.”

to think that diluc had so much affection and adoration for you, but you couldn’t even think of some cute nickname to call him. everything either felt too cheesy or too formal, but whatever he called you seemed to be just right.

“you know, whatever you might call me, i know i’ll love. you could call me a grape for all i care, and i’d still be head over heels for you.” he snaked his arms around your waist, pulling you all the more closer. he couldn’t be serious, could he?

“i’m serious, diluc! i wanna call you something that does you justice. something i could address you in letters, call you in public; something that’ll let everyone know you’re mine.”

he looks up in thought for a second, trying his best to help you out. “sugar?” “too cheesy.” “dear?” “too basic.” “... that’s all i’ve got, darling, i’m sorry.”

an idea finally pops into your head, though, something you should’ve seen earlier.

“what about beloved? because you know… i love you dearly, a-and you’re my…'' after all this time, you still find your heart racing when referring to diluc as your lover, but that only lends the nickname more points. his smile becomes a happy one, giving you a gentle peck on your heated cheeks.

“it’s perfect, beloved, and just so you know, i love you too, and you are my one and only lover.”

kaveh ♡

“kaveh, my love, could you pass me the salt?”

kaveh does as he’s told, but not without a shocked look on his face. you look up from the dough you’re mixing to see the look on his face, raising an eyebrow in response. was he not aware that you could put salt in cookies?

“love? you called me your love!!?” he was practically singing praises. you didn’t realize it meant that much to him, but you were pleased by his reaction nonetheless, a faint chuckle escaping your lips.

“is it that groundbreaking?” you genuinely doubted if he perceived you as unromantic, but you were also aware he had the tendency to be dramatic. his lips calmed down to a sheepish smile.

“it’s nothing like that, i didn’t mean to offend you. it’s just that i’ve been waiting for you to call me one, since we’ve been together.” he hugs you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“i see, i apologize if you had to wait long.” you felt a pang of guilt hit you, knowing he felt that way, but you felt him lightly shaking his head. “no, no, no. i wanted it to happen naturally, and the way you said it just earlier just felt… right.”

once it was time to put them in the oven, he still clung onto you as if you’d evaporate the moment he let go. you could never turn down his physical affection, but this was shaping up to be a bit difficult.

“kaveh… it’s a bit hard to put them in the oven without burning myself if you don’t let go.”

“really now? i’ll let go if you say the magic word.”

“hah. you’re really running with it, aren’t you?”

“magic words, love.” he earned a sigh from you before you finally gave into his desires.

“let go for a second, would you, my love?”

“of course, my love, but once those cookies are in the oven, you’re mine for the next fifteen minutes.”

xiao ♡

xiao was already in disbelief from the fact he had somehow won your affection, and was living a pleasantly romantic relationship with you. this, however, was a whole new level of domesticity.

“i’m sorry, can you repeat that?”

“if i call out dearest, while referring to you of course, will you be able to hear me and come to my aid?” maybe it was silly of you to ask, but you were genuinely curious.

“i… why would you refer to me as dearest?” he was still trying to wrap his head around this whole thing.

“because you’re my dearest? it’s a term of endearment.” you’re sure he’s heard of pet names throughout his years on liyue, so you weren’t quite sure why he was being so naive about it.

“i know that, i just– you really want to call me that?” you nod simply, taking his hand into yours, rubbing circles into his palm.

“if it makes you uncomfortable, i won’t bring it up again. i just thought it would be a cute way of addressing you, calling for you.” there’s some disappointment in your voice, but you genuinely did not want to overstep any boundaries he wasn’t ready to cross.

“no, i love it.”

he squeezes your hand, starting up into your eyes. that look he gave you, full of affection and love, made you weak.

“are you sure? you really don’t–”

“no, i’m sure. i love it, and i’ll be there the moment you call.” there’s a pure and bright smile painted across his face, and you’ve never been more in awe.

“g-great, that’s great!” you stutter out, not really expecting him to accept it so wholeheartedly so quickly. the space between you falls into a comfortable quiet, though you feel a wave of shyness wash over you.

“you can call me other names too, whatever you like. i’ll always be there, okay?” you nod timidly, afraid to make a fool out of yourself any further; xiao’s smile grows wider.

“hmm, then it's settled. you shall call me your dearest as you are mine, isn’t that right, my darling dearest?”

please do not repost on other sites.

#alhaitham #diluc #kaveh #xiao #alhaitham x reader #diluc x reader #kaveh x reader #xiao x reader #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #fluff #genshin impact

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hajimedics · 1 year ago

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WELCOME HOME JULY 2023 UPDATE SPOILERS

I have lots of thoughts about the latest welcome home update. but for now I wanna talk about eddie/frank in particular

eddie and frank’s interactions from the secret audio are quite interesting. clown has stated that they’re a couple but their interactions didn’t exactly spell out that to me. they refer to each other formally (”mr dear” and “mr frankly”) and is at most amicable towards each other, frank usually being dismissive of eddie while eddie is a bit “intimidated” by him. can be heard from an audio recording, “eddie’s big lift” being the example here.

they’re supposed to be a couple, no? my take is that what if the audios are scripted as per part of the official episodes? that's why eddie and frank aren't “acting like a couple”, being sweet to each other, holding hands, etc etc, anything of the same margin from the content I’ve seen in clown’s blog. doesn’t mean one cannot be hopeful, though -- there’s this small yet sweet exchange between them.

now onto the 8-14-ef audio page. oddly enough, eddie and frank looks to be a bit more friendly. eddie refers to frank as “frank” instead of “mr frankly” like he always did, then immediately corrects himself... perhaps into what he’s meant to say. frank still refers to him as “mr dear”, but takes on the friendlier, more laid back role here, while eddie is the one getting exasperated over a bug. eddie also went to frank for help (most likely because he’s the person who knows the best about bugs but hey subtext could be there) despite frank being dismissive of eddie in the “eddie’s big lift” storybook audio.

I’d also like to mention the cinderella play that sally made. frank is prince charming while julie is cinderella. the two characters who are fated to be in love by the end of the story. frank and julie are best friends, and they’re very close, paired together in a lot of content retrieved from the playfellow co archives. I don’t have a shred of doubt of that. however, this might be stretching a bit, is this supposed to symbolize playfellow co trying to get them to be together? or this is simply just sally being sally, her over-the-top, glamorous self?

but! oddly enough, in the stickers page, frank and eddie is placed next to each other often and look at each other in some images. despite how playfellow co. portrays them as only mildly friendly towards each other, the restoration committee’s merch of them pairs them together...? what’s with the difference?

I noticed these because of how clown once said that there are prevalent queer themes in this story too. a connection between one’s desire vs one’s duty? playfellow co vs welcome home restoration project? trying to go against fate? are these feelings THEIRS? do they actually love each other when the episodes are over? or are the feelings that they have for each other becomes a factor to welcome home puppet show’s cancellation? are they even aware? of the strings? of the scripts? that they possibly don’t have freedom to be themselves even when they manage to break the veil? much to think about. whatever happens to them, I have a feeling it won’t be exactly pretty.

#welcome home #welcome home restoration project #frank frankly #eddie dear #eddie x frank #edited twice oops sorry if you missed it

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call-me-chips · 4 months ago

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Introduction!

Sup, I'm Chips. I do art, headcanons, and reblogging things I like :)

Please give me asks. About anything. Anytime. It can be a request, an ask, a thought, whatever. I am almost always bored. If you have something on your mind, talk to me :) (Just pls don't be spamming my inbox cuz that gets annoying and i won't wanna answer them)

Rules about both sketch and headcanon requests below

More info about me:

Sexuality: Lesbian

Gender: Agender

Pronouns: They/them (Also ok with he/him)

MBTI: INTP-T

Zodiac: Gemini (May 24th)

Fav Fandoms: Bnha/Mha, Spy x Family, B99, Tadc, Helluva and Hazbin, Lackadaisy, Sonic, the Renegades trilogy, Zeyn_Syre, Taom, and Nevermore (and counting)

Fandoms I like, but don't know that well: Kny, Fnaf, Star Wars, Marvel (meaning I haven't watched the most recent stuff)

Likes: Women, art, music/singing, cosplay, cats, guns, kpop, photography, formal outfits

Dislikes: Peanut butter, olives, mushrooms, bananas, eggplants, the government, any kind of nuts, iced tea

This is my blog of many things! I post about my own art, as well as others' art and any other interests of mine, such as memes, informative stuff, incorrect quotes, headcanons, and random shit I find. I am very gay, so expect what I post/reblog to follow suit.

Some little rules/things to know about my blog:

● BE NICE.

● I don't draw/interact with NSFW stuff, as I know there are minors on here and want this to be a safe place for everyone, so please keep that in mind

● I may post vent related things that could touch on topics such as toxic family, su1c1dal thoughts, etc., so if you would not like to see that, I will try my best to label all vent things as #chipsvents so you can block it :]

Rules about sketch requests:

● The sketch requests are to cure my boredom/practice and improve my art skills, so they are free

● Don't request anything too specific. I obv won't be able to recreate the exact pose you have envisioned the character in, so just suggest the character and I'll handle posing

● Anyone can send requests

● Will only do 1-2 characters per page, but I may make an exception if the characters are small

● All characters are allowed, minus characters from adult shows/movies, such as Hazbin Hotel or Helluva Boss

● I can draw Ocs, so long as 1 or more reference photos are provided

● BEWARE, if you don't want your request to look like crap, I recommend not sending in Sonic characters (or just animals in general). I will still try to draw in Sonic's style if you ask, but you have been warned

● Be prepared for the request to take a few days to complete. I'm slow, sorry lol

Rules about headcanon requests:

● Fandoms I will do headcanons for: Bnha/Mha, Kny, Sxf, B99, Tadc, Fnaf, Toh, Helluva and Hazbin, Lackadaisy, Sonic, Marvel, the Renegades trilogy, Zeyn_Syre, Nevermore

● IF YOU WANT A KNY HEADCANON, please keep in mind that I haven't watched the anime yet, so maybe ask for more common/popular characters

● I will not do headcanons for Tengen Uzui. (I've done him twice already, and both of those were a STRUGGLE. If you wanna see the two I've done, search "kny headcanons" in my blog and scroll till you find it :))

● If you give me a character from a fandom I don't know, it will be a nonsense headcanon, where I will put their name into a random generator and give you the headcanon given (I love doing these, so feel free to ask fir a nonsense headcanon any time :))

Tags for sorting (might forget to use em tho)

● chipsdraws (Art)

● chipsvents (Vents/sensitive topics)

● askchips (Asks)

● chipsappreciates (Character appreciation posts)

● chipsvsgod (God/bible stuffs)

● I fucking hate my rib (rants/updates on my rib)

● Headcanon reblog (My mha headcanon reblog chain)

● Random shit (Self explanatory)

#introduction #intro post #Pinned intro #Blog intro #My blog #art #I should not have stayed up this late to make this lol #None of the dividers are mine

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thorntopieces · 4 months ago

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assorted pjo/hoo headcanons

part 1 - part 2

autistic!will. i mean. i was one of the first people to write it (and post it on ao3, but i had stuff about it on my long gone old blog before then). this is true. to me. it's not incredibly obvious unless you know what you're looking for because 99% of the time he's eloquent and very passionate and maybe it's just the hyper healer in him and he'd like to think he passes well. but for people who know they can just tell. it's the voice, man /gn. gives you away every time /lh

pots!hazel. she ends up (mostly!) recovering from the fainting episodes associated with her flashbacks but still faints and feels unwell a lot of the time. she spends a lot of her energy and magic on staying conscious and aware, leaving her foggy and with flare-ups. will ends up diagnosing her half-way on accident during the three days nico stays in the infirmary. she doesn't faint a lot, but she will frequently have her vision black out when she stands and feel nauseous if she has to stand still for more than ten minutes (more or less depending on the day). together with jason and nico the three of them make up the fainting trio

reyna speaks excessively formally and politely when she's uncomfortable and the moment she feels safe around you she will just loosen up completely. it becomes very clear very quickly how much of her time is spent being uncomfortable

genderfluid!lou ellen. most of the time she's happy to be referred to as a girl, but some days it just feels wrong and she prefers to be referred to either gender-neutrally or masculinely. it's not something she's out about to anyone but her closest friends, partially because there's kind of enough stigma around being the child of hecate and also, it's not all that obvious, even to her.

nico is a bit like a social interaction vampire. he's not as shut off as others seem to think, he just needs to be given explicit permission to talk about his interests because he's worried about annoying other people, especially after bianca essentially abandoned him. he could talk for hours and hours about his special interests (because yes, he's probably autistic too) like mythomagic (he picks it up again with percy's encouragement), ancient languages and literature

will and katie (gardner) friendship. they bond over liking star wars and when lou ellen join their circle she manipulates the mist to recreate scenes from the movies. as she gets better at it she manages to make the light sabers glow, much to will and katie's delight

after the battle of manhattan and will/kayla/austin almost dying from being overworked, the camp gets together with mr d and chiron without the apollo kids' knowledge and figure out how to run the infirmary in a more sustainable way than just forcing apollo and athena kids to be there. eventually they settle on apollo kids doing 8-hour shifts but none at night unless someone is severely wounded. for the night shift, other campers work in rotating pairs where one sleeps for the first four hours and the other for the last four hours. a lot more campers gain appreciation for the amount of work the apollo (and athena) cabin put in to keep them alive and healthy and the apollo cabin doesn't die of burnout

t1 diabetic!kayla. she's been sick with it since she was six, but thanks to having a very supportive dad and a team of professionals around him considering his status as an olympic archer, her condition is well-managed (most of the time, war time is unpredictable) and she knows how to treat and manage it considering her demigod lifestyle. accompanying headcanon to this: while ambrosia and nectar is mostly to heal injuries and wounds of a divine and/or serious nature, it can short-term manage blood sugar. mortal intervention is always needed to fix the problem though. a bit like how narcan delays but can't entirely fix an opioid overdose

cecil wasn't properly accepted as a child of hermes at first considering he didn't express exceptional skills at the more obvious and everyday traits associated with the cabin (multilingualism, athleticism, thievery). first when he was found to accidentally being an exceptional saboteur was he properly accepted by the rest of his siblings. due to this he tended to hang out with the unclaimed children in the hermes cabin rather than his own siblings, especially lou ellen

hjs!cecil (hypermobile joint syndrome; double-jointedness). he's not good with most physical activities because of this and easily discouraged to even attempt most sports due to how his cabin alienated him for not being exceptionally agile, a trait associated with their cabin. it's not uncommon for his wrists and ankles to not work well (such as the twisted ankle in boo). however, he feels like he "compensates" for this by working in the shadows. when properly encouraged and supported, he prefers fighting with knives (close combat or throwing), relying on being obnoxious to throw the enemy off

#pjo #hoo #will solace #hazel levesque #lou ellen blackstone #nico di angelo #katie gardner #kayla knowles #cecil markowitz #my headcanons #i have not posted headcanon lists in like what *seven years* i feel old now but here i have some thoughts #they're random but they're true to me #<- says this but will accept even contradictory headcanons because it's more fun that way #disclaimer that i havent read most of toa yet but i know what happens because idc about spoilers #pjo tag

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waxingrunes · 1 year ago

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I understand if you’re too busy to answer this or don’t want to, but i was wondering if you wouldn’t mind telling us some of your non-explicit headcanons or just some traits you think wolfstar have in general? Your explicit ones are sososo hot but today I'm feeling low and need some comforting. Yiur blog is just a safe space for me but I totally understand if not! I love your work <3 all my love x

There are so many nondescript hc’s I have that this has the potential to turn into a formal essay with cited sources, so I’ll go for more of a generalised dump of info I have for each in a hope that it lifts some of your fog Anon. Maybe bullet pointed because it’ll be easier to read than my usual untidy form of communication. Hope you feel lighter soon.

Sirius

• will lick a yoghurt pot if there’s no clean spoons. There’s the option to go for fruit instead, but he wants the yoghurt and by god he will get his yoghurt

• is a fucking terrible driver, gives Remus and any passenger white knuckles due to speed issues and not using a lower gear when taking corners

• is however, in complete control when on a motorcycle; very hot, very controlled and will take his passenger’s safety very seriously

• professionally trained in ballroom and ballet, the latter which he is sometimes mocked in jest for, even by Remus, until he one time caught him stretching elegantly on the floor one morning with his upper body laid flat between long, toned, wide spread legs, ‘morning moony’, a healthy blush on his cheeks

• private crier, doesn’t cry easily

• goes quiet when angry as an initial defence but it doesn’t take long for him to start dropping breadcrumbs of sarcastic comments; can also be snobby and bratty, perhaps sometimes will get nasty and direct (bringing up things he shouldn’t to score points in the heat of the moment)

• suffers immeasurable guilt (helped by the point above) but is always masking a weighted feeling of guilt no matter what he’s doing, so much so it’s manifested into quite a serious anxiety problem in the wrong crowds

• he fidgets a lot, not in a chaotic way, just always has to have his fingers busy with something

• likes the smell of gasoline

• once had to talk himself down from throwing a child in a dustbin

• loves the colour red; blood red and cherry red to be precise but secretly loves dark blue even more because it’s what looks most handsome on Remus despite him not wearing it often

• sighs a lot

• pretended he couldn’t speak English to get away with jumping a queue

• hates the smell and taste of liquorice (unless heavily strawberry/cherry/raspberry flavoured)

• on one particular messy night out he got so impatient waiting at the bar, he reached over and grabbed a discarded bottle of alcohol the server had left open and swigged it

• digs his nails into his skin when anxious and is often reminded to relax the tension in his joints

• stargazes often

• once linked his pinky finger with Remus and asked him to pinky promise not to tell anyone what he was about to tell him, since which a tradition of trust was born where Remus will offer his pinky or the last two fingers for Sirius to hold or squeeze when he’s feeling unsure in public, or in any situation where verbal reassurance isn’t appropriate

• gets a weird thrill at the sound of cork popping from a bottle

Remus

• collects beer mats and keeps them in a drawer, thinks about making them into a display

• got tired of kids playing ball against the wall of his place (after repeat offences and him asking very nicely for them to stop) one day so went out, retrieved the ball and threw it so hard against of the cars it set the alarm off

• owner of said car came running out the house and Remus blamed it on the children. Never had the same issue again

• has a wildly sweet tooth and will always drop one or two packets of sugar into any warm beverage

• stares into space and gets involuntarily caught on someone’s face one too many times which makes them uncomfortable from the ‘Death Stare’ phenomenon when in reality, he’s lost in lala land

• can cook, is actually a proficient cook, but will not cook for anyone but Sirius, James or Lily

• will crack his knuckles, wrists and neck absentmindedly, all of which makes his company squirm because it’s often very loud and ‘pop-py’ but Sirius fucking loves it

• stays very calm during an argument but can shout louder than most and when he does, ears ring from the silence that follows

• prefers tea over coffee

• will eat liquorice any time he wants to piss Sirius off

• cries more than Sirius, but still a private crier

• always has to be the old boot in Monopoly

• loves words that are vowel heavy or double voweled because those are the ones where the scraps of Sirius’ lost French accent surface the most

• has a gentle touch, is aware of his size and nature of his lycanthropy, therefore always somewhat reserved

• loves socks, has a collection of ‘dad socks’

• has the messiest writing out of all the Marauders but loves handwritten things, owns three very different fountain pens for very different purposes

• is polite, but as he’s aged doesn’t tend to ‘fake smile’ a lot, feeling no need to fill uncomfortable silences for the sake of others

• has a chair he favours and often dozes off in it. Most of the time waking up to Sirius on top of him

#ask #wolfstar #might tag this properly #remus lupin #sirius black #remus #sirius

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arvandus · 1 year ago

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The Divine

Barbatos (Obey Me!) x Fem!Reader

Content Warnings: 18+ content! Minors DNI and DO NOT follow my blog! All minor and ageless blogs will be blocked! Fem!Reader (dress, heels, fem-coded terms of endearment, etc.), AFAB!Reader, short-coded reader (but Barb's a demon so we can say "magic!" and just suspend disbelief; aka let's pretend they can adjust their own height if they want); friends to lovers, romance, hurt/comfort, first date, lots and lots of talking, first kiss and first (and second) time together (aww yissss), questionable uses for a tail, vaginal sex, oral sex (f receiving), clit stim, shared bath, reader goes pee (is this an issue for people...? practice good sex hygiene, peeps!), reader gets carried (he got that demon strength, babyyy), rough(ish) sex (did I mention demon strength??). UHHH I think that's it. This is long as hell, almost 15k GOOD LUCK BYE.

Author's Note: This is my submission for The Coffee Corner's "Slice of Life" Collab Event! There are so many amazing writers, please go check it out and see if there's anything that piques your interest!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The opera house was filling up quickly, hundreds of demons taking their seats. Barbatos was calm and efficient in finding yours amongst the bustling of busy bodies. They were excellent seats, to be expected from Lord Diavolo’s butler who prided himself on his perfection. Not too close, not too far, and located central enough without having to climb over multiple sets of legs if you needed to step away at all during the performance.

Barbatos helped you to your seat first, his hand gently placed on your lower back, before sitting down next to you.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked.

You nodded with a smile. “Very much so, thank you.”

You normally weren’t so formal with him. After all, you’d known each other for more than a year during your time here in the Devildom and been on many outings together as acquaintances and later as friends. But there had always been a wall in place, a boundary that was never crossed nor spoken of.

Barbatos was kind, polite, and witty; he was caring and doting, a perfectionist, and by far one of the most mature demons you’d had the pleasure of getting to know. However, despite all of that, Barbatos was also a private individual, even when he freely provided facts about himself and his interests, and was forthcoming with his motivations. No matter how much he exposed, there always seemed to be far more lurking beneath the surface that was left unsaid. Add in the fact that he took his job as Lord Diavolo’s private butler so seriously, and it sometimes made it difficult to distinguish his acts of kindness as obligation versus personal desire. No matter how kind or sweet his words were, no matter how close you felt with him at any given moment, you were always, always aware that he kept himself at a distance. It made your own affections for him feel one-sided, a heavy gift you held in shaky hands with nowhere to put it.

You’d always had the keen sense that he knew, of course; you weren’t exactly good at hiding it. But he’d never acknowledged it, at least not out-right; even though you could have sworn there were times where you felt his eyes on you when you weren’t looking, or moments where he held your gaze for longer than necessary. But each time, you’d written it off as wishful thinking, your heart desperately looking for patterns within the random coincidences of life.

But now, things were different. They had been, ever since that moment he’d plucked that leaf out of your hair with soft affection in his eyes, followed by a quick stolen glance at your parted, stunned lips. It was all the evidence you needed, and all the evidence that you’d likely get, to know that Barbatos was harboring a flame of his own. After all, you’d only seen it because he’d let you see it. You had acted on it immediately, the invitation to dinner tumbling from your lips in place of a confession. He had accepted with a smile, and you could still feel the elation weaved into your chest like a keepsake as you revisited the memory.

You were yanked from the heart-pounding past to the nerve-wracking present when Barbatos’s fingers intertwined with yours. Your pulse quickened at the contact. The touch of his skin against yours was so intimate and new, that it felt foreign and strangely forbidden.

“I’m glad you were able to join me,” he said. “I apologize that the invitation was so last minute. There were... complications.”

You gave a small, teasing laugh, more to trick your own nerves than anything else. “You act as if we haven’t gone out together before. And I don’t mind last minute; spontaneity keeps things fun.”

Your words felt like lies, a feigned nonchalance in the face of what was so obviously a shift in your relationship with each other, a testing of deeper waters.

“True,” he said. “But this time is different, isn’t it?”

It was so like him to say outright what was already in your mind. Yet he always managed to do it with such simplicity that it stripped away the anxiety while still leaving the importance. You swallowed the dryness in your throat and gave a small nod.

He was correct, of course... this - whatever it was – was still very much new for the both of you.

“Besides,” he continued, his lips curving playfully, “it has been some time since we’ve had the pleasure of each other’s company.”

“Four weeks,” you blurted out. Then you clamped your lips shut in embarrassment.

He gave a soft laugh. “Three weeks and six days, to be exact.”

You gave him a surprised glance. “But who’s counting?” you teased.

Barbatos smiled. “I often find myself counting the time when we are apart.”

Your body grew hot at his confession, his words vibrating against your skin as they buried themselves into you, becoming a part of you. No doubt you will be reflecting on that single line for days to come.

Barbatos watched the change in your expression with intrigue.

“However, it is hardly our fault, is it not?” he continued. “The brothers have been keeping you plenty busy I hear, and the young master requires constant supervision to keep him from chasing his flights of fancy.”

It always amused you when Barbatos referred to the massive, muscular Prince as ‘young;’ it reminded you time and time again how ancient Barbatos really was. He sounded like a tired uncle reigning in a toddler, and looked the part too, his eyes tired as he watched other demons pass by to take their seats.

“Speaking of Lord Diavolo,” you chimed, “wasn’t he the one who was supposed to join you for this?”

Barbatos returned his eyes to you, only to be met by a narrowed, mischievous gaze and grinning lips. Barbatos’s smile reappeared deeper than before.

“Something tells me that he intentionally had me set this up and then abandoned it at the last minute in order to allow us this opportunity,” he confessed.

“How very generous of him,” you whispered as you bumped your shoulder against his playfully.

Barbatos drew his thumb over the soft pad of your hand where your thumb and finger joined. The sensitive nerves tingled, sending goosebumps up your arm.

“Yes,” he agreed as his emerald eyes stared into yours. “Very generous.”

You leaned towards him slightly, your own thumb drawing along his hand in return, as your voice dropped to a whisper. “It would be in ill taste if we did not maximize this opportunity that he’s provided.”

“Ill taste indeed,” he muttered as he glanced down at your lips. His gaze lingered there for one heartbeat, two. Just long enough to get you leaning slightly closer in hopeful anticipation. Then he broke his gaze and stared ahead. “Lets us fully enjoy this performance then,” he stated.

You stared at him, mildly stunned by his reservedness, until you noticed the slightest hint of a smirk at the corner of his mouth.

He was toying with you. On purpose.

Your lips turned downward into a pout and you gave a humph as you leaned back in your chair. Beneath the hum of the audience settling in, you heard the faintest hint of a quiet chuckle in his chest.

You still had yet to kiss him. The first date was very nice and sweet, a simple dinner at a restaurant you knew you both enjoyed. You had wanted to keep the first date familiar and unassuming, to allow for the possibility that you’d been wrong, that he’d taken your invitation as a dinner between friends rather than love interests. It wasn’t long before that worry was eliminated by the touch of his hand over yours at the table, followed by a long swipe of his thumb over your knuckles.

But of course, the private moment was short-lived, because wherever you were, a brother wasn’t far behind. It was Asmo this time who’d spotted you, miffed at the realization that you were out with someone other than him, and looking dolled up to boot. Which then, of course, led to him inviting himself to your very obvious one-on-one with Barbatos. The demon had given you a look to silently inquire if such behavior was acceptable, and you were too kindhearted to give Asmo the boot, so you surrendered, folding like a deck of cards.

The regret and guilt still sat heavy on your mind. You should have been firmer, set some boundaries. But boundary setting was always difficult when the brothers were involved.

Barbatos would have been able to do it; the look that he’d given you had made that clear enough. He was a kind demon, yet firm if he needed to be. And you had a keen sense that you never wanted to get on his bad side. But he’d taken the intrusion gracefully, and parted ways later that evening without a hint of disappointment or disapproval.

Even so, you’d assumed you’d botched any future opportunities at a second date with him. Sure, he may not have expressed disappointment in the moment, but you knew he was a master at disguising his true feelings when he wanted to. So, it had taken you by surprise when he had texted you that he’d enjoyed himself and wanted to try again, albeit something that could be either more structured, or more private to prevent future interruptions.

It had taken far longer than expected to follow through, to the point that you’d almost lost hope. But finally, here you sat with the apple of your eye looking delicious and refined in his black tuxedo, while you donned a simple strapped gown of your own. The lights above dimmed, indicating the performance would be starting soon, as the orchestra completed the final checks on their instruments, ensuring everything was in tune.

Barbatos’s hand continued to hold yours, the action feeling almost possessive in nature, a warning to any who might see the two of you together. A part of you wondered if any of the brothers had managed to sneak their way in and were watching from a distance, and if so, did Barbatos know. There was no way to know for certain. Either way, if they were out there somewhere, they couldn’t reach you now, not without causing a scene.

Now your seats made more sense. You had wondered why you weren’t located in one of the more private balcony boxes above; it certainly seemed like a place Barbatos would have preferred. And had he come with Diavolo like originally intended, he very well might have. You certainly couldn’t have the Lord of the Devildom sitting amongst the masses.

Which means Barbatos likely figured out a way to change the seating arrangement as soon as he learned of Diavolo’s little scheme. This was clearly by design, a way to ensure your second date would not be interrupted like the first. You let out a relaxed breath and reclined against the back of your seat as you prepared yourself to become immersed in the opera.

The lights overhead went black, leaving only the stage washed in a white glow.

“Y/N...” Barbatos started, his eyes on you. “There’s something you should know about this performance...”

“Hm?” you replied distractedly with barely a glance.

But then the orchestral music began, and you shushed him with a pat on his arm. Barbatos’s words died on his tongue, as his hand tightened around yours.

The music started strong and then fell like cascading water into a flurry of notes. You watched as the music played, as the singers entered the scene.

You had expected English, or one of the romance languages that you often associated with opera, or even an older, biblical language such as Hebrew. But instead, the language was like nothing you’d ever heard, notes sung in such a way that it felt entirely inhuman and beyond the realm of possibility. You stared, bewildered, unable to understand any of it, even as the earth-shattering beauty of it crashed over you. There were no screens with subtitles framing the stage, no form of translation at all. There was nothing; just your eyes and the music to try to decipher the story that was unfolding. It was clear it had to do with angels and demons, and that there was a forbidden love story between them, which, you could deduce would lead to conflict. But the details were lost as soon as they had opened their mouths.

Barbatos watched you in silent observation as your emotions transformed and danced across your face from confusion, to wonder, to awe, to fear, and back again.

His hand squeezed yours, a tether keeping you from losing yourself in the panic of your mortal brain trying to make sense of something beyond its understanding.

“Are you alright?” he whispered, his tone laced with concern. Your wide eyes shot over to him; it took a moment for recognition to register in your gaze.

“Y-Yeah. But I don’t understand them at all. What language is this??”

“It’s the Divine Language,” he replied. He watched and waited for your brain to process.

“...wait. What?”

“It’s the Divine Language,” he repeated. “The language of God, spoken by angels and demons. It’s no surprise you don’t understand it, you’re not meant to unless it’s directly intended for you.”

You didn’t know how to put into words that it felt like you simultaneously understood yet didn’t. The language didn’t sound like words, and yet it left imprints upon you, feelings and emotions stamped upon your soul that you could only vaguely understand.

Barbatos continued as you stared back at the stage in shock. “Many of the operas composed here are done so in the Divine Language as it withholds the purest meaning and form, and the notes cannot be duplicated in mortal speech. Had I known you were joining me tonight instead of the young master, I might have selected a more appropriate performance.”

He watched you as you grimaced against a particularly moving crescendo.

“Why does it feel like it’s in my head?” you whispered.

“Because it is,” he whispered back. “You are fortunate that you have Angelic ancestry in you.”

You gave him a confused look. “Why?”

“Because if you didn’t, you’d be bleeding out your ears.”

“What??” your voice raised in panic, and multiple demons seated near you shushed you. You lowered your voice again, but the panic was still there. “Barbatos!”

Barbatos gave a quiet chuckle as he pulled something small from his pocket. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. Just put these in your ears. It will lessen the impact.”

You took the small black box from his hand and opened it to see a set of ear plugs. You wasted no time in putting them in. Immediately, the panic and chaos you felt eased, the thrumming reduced to a hum.

“Why didn’t you give me these earlier? A warning would have been nice,” you quietly seethed.

Barbatos almost rebutted that he’d tried when the lights went down, but decided against it when he saw you fold your hands protectively in your lap. You were angry. He gently pried your hands apart gently with his and twined his fingers with yours in a soft hold. You didn’t fight him, but you didn’t look at him either.

“I promise you weren’t in any danger,” he whispered close to your ear. “I would not have brought you here if it wasn’t safe.”

Your body remained stiff, but you finally looked at him. “It felt intentional,” you replied. “Like it’s something Diavolo would have you do to test me. Tell me, Barbatos... are you here for work or pleasure?”

Surprise flashed across his face, followed by the return of his gentle smile. He leaned even closer to your ear until his lips ghosted over your pinna. “Pleasure,” he whispered, his voice low. His hand squeezed yours reassuringly. “Definitely pleasure. I assure you there were no ulterior motives.”

The way his voice alone nearly unraveled you... your thighs tightened against their impact and you swallowed as you stared ahead at the stage, struggling to follow the story that you were missing.

But you could be horny and angry at the same time. You set your jaw stubbornly.

“You swear?” you asked as you kept your eyes on the stage.

He took your chin in his hand and turned your face to look at him, his expression serious.

“I swear,” he replied.

Then he placed as soft brush of lips to your forehead. It stole your breath as a shiver passed through every nerve.

Your anger finally dimmed, soothed by the genuineness of his words and the reassurance of his affection. Your fingers finally closed around his in reciprocity, and Barbatos returned his green eyes to the stage.

A long moment passed as you both watched the performance. The impact of the Divine Language continued to wash over you, dragging vague meaningful pictures to your mind as your emotions danced like puppets. The earplugs helped, keeping you from feeling like your head was splitting open. But you still felt lost in it, carried away on a foreign tide.

Barbatos noticed. He leaned close and whispered. “Would you like me to translate for you?”

His breath tickled your ear and your chest tightened as your heart tried to grow wings and escape. You angled your head to him slightly; your eyes breaking from the stage briefly.

“Please,” you whispered.

And so, he quietly summarized the plot and dialogue into your ear as his eyes watched. The male and female lead sang to each other, their voices rich with emotion, their body language communicating their love.

“They are of two different worlds,” he explained. “Yet they love each other unequivocally.”

You smiled softly. “Romantic...”

“Very,” he agreed. “She is expressing worry that heaven will cast her out for falling for him. And he is promising to never leave her.”

The music rose in crescendo. It filled you, and your chest tightened like a balloon about to burst. You took deep breaths to allow the sensations to pass through you.

You had anticipated appreciating the music, being impressed by the vocal gymnastics. But this was proving to be so much more, a visceral experience that would leave you reeling by the time it was over.

As you watched, Barbatos continued to translate. The angel was cast out as predicted and was cursed to walk the earth and live her life as a human. This allowed them to continue their romance without judgment and they rejoiced. But shortly after, things took a turn for the worst, as they often did in operas.

“She’s sick...” you commented quietly as you watched the performance.

Barbatos glanced at you briefly from the corner of his eye. “She’s mortal.”

Something inside your chest twisted, a stirring of something heavy that you’d been struggling to ignore ever since you committed to staying in the Devildom. You tried to push it back down, to watch the story continue.

But maybe it was the way that it hit too close to home; or maybe it was the way the Divine Language seemed to invade every crevice of you like a living thing, forcing your body to experience something beyond what it was built for. Either way, it brought forth every worry, every fear that plagued you late at night when you were alone in your bed. It was the way the loneliness that you struggled to ignore within yourself began to gain weight, a black hole pulling you into its relentless gravity. It was the type of loneliness that came with the sense of otherness, of being separate; the awareness of being where one did not truly belong no matter how badly you wanted to.

Your eyes brimmed with tears as you stared at Barbatos’s hand holding your own. Suddenly, this – all of this – felt foolish. So foolish. What were you doing, going on a date with a demon? Allowing yourself to open your heart for someone who would outlive you ten times over? The time would be gone in a blink, your mortal life small and insignificant.

Your tear-rimmed eyes looked back to the stage. You watched as the female lead died, succumbing to her illness, and her partner mourned her.

Would Barbatos mourn you in such a way? Would he watch you grow old and feeble while he stayed young and flawless? Did demons and angels even love the same way that humans did? How much could one human life really matter anyway, to someone who was essentially immortal? You were a blip in his life, a small blink of time that would come and go, a nice little hobby to pass the time. Whereas for you, he would be your entire world, your entire life if things panned out the way your foolish heart hoped they would.

Because there was no one else you wanted. No one else that even came close.

The thoughts shook you to your core until it felt as if you were being split in two, a great chasm running right down the center of you between what your heart longed for and what your head knew to be true. It made you begin the grieving process of what you would inevitably lose before you’d ever had a chance to even have it. The pain was a wild beast in your chest, threatening to break free, to rip open your rib cage and let your heart bleed out in front of everyone. You wanted to cry. You wanted to scream.

You wanted to leave.

You unlatched your hand from Barbatos’s, avoiding his eyes as you grabbed your purse from the floor.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “Excuse me...”

You made your way past the few seated individuals that blocked you from the aisle. As soon as you’d freed yourself, you walked quickly towards the exit, a race against time between the sobs in your throat that were rising to the back of your tongue and your proximity to the door.

You crossed the threshold with your hand over your mouth. Already, you felt the wet tears sliding down your cheeks, your makeup effectively ruined.

And so was your date, you were certain. The way you’d bolted from Barbatos without a second thought, without explanation... If you hadn’t offended him before on your first date, then you certainly did now.

You removed the earplugs from your ears and stuffed them into your purse.

You could still hear the music, could still hear the anguish in the male demon’s notes as he mourned the loss of his love. Even from here, the Divine Language found you, gripped you, choked you. You practically ran out of the opera house into the cold, wet evening of the devildom, and with it came silence – blessed, sweet silence. A soft rain was falling, coating everything until it shined wet.

You quietly walked out from the covered entryway, past the great pillars that held up the grand architecture. You turned your face up to the sky with closed eyes and let the water mist your skin. Then you sat down on the steps and put your head in your arms and cried.

It wasn’t long before you heard the familiar soft steps of Barbatos’s polished black shoes on the wet stone. A moment later, the rain above you stopped and the sound of pitter-pattering on fabric met your ears. Still, you didn’t look up, your shame too heavy to lift your head.

You felt the presence of him, felt him as he circled around to your front. You peeked through your arms just in time to see him kneel in front of you on the steps.

“I’m sorry,” you confessed through sniffles.

“What happened?” he asked calmly.

“I don’t know, I just...”

More tears welled up as your words caught in your throat. You wiped at your eyes in an attempt to make them stop, but more took their place. Barbatos took a handkerchief from his coat pocket and handed it to you. You took it and held it in your hands, your fingers rubbing across the soft silk.

“Did you not like the performance?” he asked, his tone laced with worry. “Perhaps the earplugs were not enough.”

You couldn’t help but give a sad, soft laugh. “No, I did. I did like it. It’s just...”

Again, your words faltered. Why was it so difficult to say? It was as if the emotions you felt were too large, unable to fit into the neat little boxes that human language provided. If only you could speak the language of angels and demons...

“Barbatos...” you started softly, “why did you ask me out?”

His veridian eyes widened slightly in surprise. “You mean to the opera?”

“No, I mean ask me out. On a date.”

His gaze softened, although the confusion in them remained. “Because I care for you. I had thought that years of mutual pining and silent eye contact every time we were in the same room together made that obvious.”

You half chuckled. It wasn’t as obvious as he thought it was...

He tilted his head slightly, and he wasn’t quite quick enough to hide the sadness that flitted across his face.

“Do you not feel the same?” he asked. “Perhaps I have misunderstood-“

“No! No, that’s not it,” you protested, your hands reaching out to grasp his.

Not that. Anything but that...

You kept his free hand in yours, your fingers following his knuckles from one finger to the next.

“What I mean is, why me?”

Barbatos’s fingers wrapped around your own. “Why not you?”

“Because. I’m mortal.” Your voice cracked, and Barbatos straightened slightly.

“Ah. I see.”

“I can’t help but feel like I’m making a mistake. Like I’m not supposed to feel this way.”

“Feel what way?”

More tears fell from your lashes as a sob escaped your throat. “Happy.”

You released your hold on him and buried your face in your hands.

Barbatos touched your arm, his fingers wrapping around it gently. You felt the rain suddenly return followed immediately by the sound of the umbrella touching the stone steps. You looked at it slightly confused, just in time for Barbatos’s other hand to take your chin and tilt your face up until you were looking at him.

“And why shouldn’t you be happy?” he asked.

You stared at him, watching as his hair flattened in the rain, running rivulets down his pale skin.

“Because my time here will be so brief compared to you, to everyone. I’ll keep changing and grow old, and you’ll all stay the same.”

Barbatos stared at you for a long moment, his expression soft yet neutral. He cocked his head slightly and released your arm to wipe your wet hair from your face before trailing his fingers along your cheek to your jaw line.

“What makes you think your longevity will be brief?”

You furrowed your brow. “Because I’m human...?”

“So is Solomon...”

He had a point there. But...

“But Solomon is a powerful sorcerer.”

“And you’re not?”

“Not like him... I’m just barely beginning to grasp the things he’s teaching me.”

“Do not mistake knowledge for power,” Barbatos said.

“I thought knowledge was power,” you teased, the first hint of a smile on your lips.

Barbatos smirked at your cheekiness. “I stand corrected. However, the point I’m trying to make is this: your power is your own and always will be. And trust me when I say that your power is vast. Already you’ve been able to wield it in ways that Solomon could only dream. All that you require now is the knowledge, and that will come with time.”

“But my time is limited.”

“So it is for all of us, one way or another,” Barbatos replied. “Do not let a little thing called Time stop you. You will have plenty enough of it to figure out how to bend its effects to your will just as Solomon has.”

“Is that what your visions of the future show you?” you teased.

Barbatos’s soft smile tightened slightly. “I don’t know. I don’t look into the future unless Lord Diavolo instructs me to. But even if I could, I wouldn’t look at yours.”

Your brows furrowed. “Why not?”

Barbatos stared down at the ground, his lashes hiding his eyes. “Because no good could come of it. Despite my age, I am not immune to the impact of loss. And witnessing the loss of you in the future would only taint what time I have with you in the present.”

A silence fell between you as you thought upon his words. They brought a warmth into your chest at the realization of how much you meant to him. And yet... it only made your concerns feel that much more valid.

You didn’t want to hurt him. Not in the present, and not in the future. Even if it was due to circumstances beyond your control.

“What if... what if I can’t do what Solomon does? What if I can’t figure it all out? The lifespan of a human seems so short...”

Barbatos looked back up at you, a sad smile on his lips.

“If your time is to be so short, then perhaps it is best to enjoy the time that you do have, freely without the burden of guilt. You deserve happiness, in whatever way you can find it. Don’t let your fears taint what your heart wants.” His hand found yours, and he stared at it as his thumb brushed over your fingers. “And... if I may be a little bit selfish... let me have this time with you now, if you’ll have me. I will feel your absence regardless, and I’d rather be able to look upon the past with fondness instead of regret.”

“Barbatos...” you whispered. Your hand came up and brushed his long locks back, tucking them behind his left ear. “Of course I’ll have you.”

He smiled softly at you. “Nothing pleases me more.”

A thought still bothered you though, a question itching at the back of your mind, springing up more worry. It made your gaze distant, distracted.

“Barbatos... what happened at the end of the story?” you asked.

“Hm? You mean the opera?” he replied. You nodded. His smile grew. “When the female lead dies, her soul is unable to ascend to heaven due to being cast out. So, there is only one place left for her to go.”

Your eyes widened. “She went to hell. She got to be with him in the end.”

Barbatos’s smile filled his face, his eyes crinkling and perfect white teeth showing. He was so beautiful it made your chest ache. “She did.”

Your gaze became distant again with thought. “When I die.... where do you think I’ll go?”

“Hmmm,” Barbatos pondered, his fingers on his chin. “Well, to be honest, it’s anyone’s guess. Although as the keeper of the Seven Deadly Sins, it may tip the scales more in favor of here. Relations between heaven and hell have been improving, but there are still rules that must be followed. And any who support demons usually end up coming here.”

“Wait, so I’m going to go to hell??” you said indignantly as mirth danced in your eyes.

Barbatos grinned. “As if I’d ever let my girl go to such a place. No, I would bring you here to the Devildom.”

Your body flushed hot at his words. “Your girl...”

Barbatos took your chin in his fingers, his thumb brushing against your lower lip gently. “My girl,” he affirmed.

Then he leaned forward and kissed you, his lips cool and soft against yours in the cold of night. You leaned into it, your hands coming up instinctually to cup his chilled face as you reciprocated his affection.

He pulled away slightly, just enough to look into your eyes, before returning for a second kiss, his lips firmer, warmer. You opened your mouth to him, every part of you aching for more of him until he filled you, surrounded you, until your head couldn’t think anymore and all that mattered was him, you, this moment. Barbatos’s grip on you tightened as his warm tongue found yours, tasting you, claiming you.

He pulled away just a fraction again, his eyes shining as the bony wings framing his head flickered and vanished. His grip on you was strong, one hand holding you by the curve of your jawline, and the other gripping your waist. You had the keen sense that in that moment, he was torn between behaving like the gentleman he felt you deserved, versus taking you right there on the cold, wet steps in the empty street.

The evidence of Barbatos’s desire for you shocked you. He was always so reserved, so in control, that seeing him grapple with his lesser instincts because of you made your own instincts want to respond in kind, to lure him out of his carefully crafted persona. You’d been so starved for his affection for so long, that now even the smallest crumbs of his desire felt like a feast.

But of course, his reason won out. Slowly he stood, his hand holding yours as he helped you to your feet.

“Perhaps we should get you home,” he stated, even as his eyes remained locked on your lips.

Numb with need, your body buzzing, you nodded silently.

Barbatos picked up the umbrella and shook the water off it before placing it over the two of you. Then he offered his arm and you hooked yours with his as he led you to the car.

The ride back was silent, although you continued to hold his hand in your lap for the entire duration. The drive felt far too short for your liking. A sense of dread filled the pit in your stomach as the House of Lamentation came into view and it didn’t leave even as Barbatos released your hand with a kiss and exited the vehicle to open your door for you. You took his offered hand and stepped out, your gaze locked on the many windows that stared back like countless eyes. You could feel them on your back as you turned around at the gate to face Barbatos to begin your goodnights.

Barbatos could sense your unease.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yeah, I just... I don’t think I’m ready to go in yet. I’d like to spend more time with you.” Your eyes were downcast bashfully as you stared at the buttons of his white shirt, the black bow tie at his neck.

He gave a gentle laugh. “I don’t want the night to end either. It is far too early to be saying goodbye. Where would you like to go?”

You glanced up at him as you felt heat roll across your body, the memory of your kiss still fresh in your mind. “Some place quiet... and private.”

Barbatos fell silent for a moment as he stared down at you. “I know just the place,” he finally said.

He led you back to the car, and with a final glance back at the mansion, you sat down in the passenger seat. He closed your door, and soon you were on the road again. It wasn’t long before he pulled the car up through the lavish, scroll-decorated iron gates of Lord Diavolo’s castle. Your eyes widened in slight surprise.

“Here?”

Barbatos glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “You said you wanted private. This is the only place I can guarantee for sure that no one else will find you.”

“I would have thought it’d be the first place they’d look,” you replied as you stared up at the great, towering spires.

“Oh, they most certainly will. But as you know, the castle in vast, with many rooms and dangers. And there is one room they will never be able to enter without explicit invitation.”

You gave him a questioning look.

“Mine,” he stated with a small smirk.

A giddy dizziness clouded your mind as he got out of the car and came around to assist you.

As you stepped out, he continued. “Due to the dangerous nature of my room, there are many wards and spells that keep unwelcome guests from entering. You’re welcome to stay for as long as you like, and then I will take you home when you’re ready.”

You realized Barbatos was referring to the many doors that led to infinite pasts and futures.

“I’ve been to your room before; I don’t recall it being very... comfortable,” you confessed.

Barbatos laughed as he led you up the steps. “That’s because you only entered the part I wanted you to enter. My personal space has far better amenities than just stairs and doors. Did you think I just hung like a bat from the ceiling while I slept?” he teased.

You chuckled. “The thought had crossed my mind...”

Up the stairs and down the winding, complex halls he led you, taking sharp turns and walking around blank spaces of floor to avoid hidden dangers. Finally, you were outside his door. With his hand holding yours, he opened it to reveal a pristine bedroom with an ornate four post bed with a canopy. A large fireplace sat to the right, already lit, an ornate rug and sofa sitting in front of it. There was a sitting area near the tall glass doors that opened onto a balcony with a tea cart close by. It was simple in its elegance, the room cast in a warm yellow-orangish glow from the fire. Not a speck of dirt was present, and suddenly you felt very unclean, your dress and hair still wet from earlier.

“May I use your bathroom?” you asked.

“Of course, right through there.” Barbatos motioned to the double doors to the left as he made his way to his tea cart. “I will fix us something to drink.”

You stepped into his bathroom and shut the door. It was incredibly spacious. Not as grand as Asmo’s of course, but it most certainly had every necessary amenity and then some. You checked yourself in the mirror and nearly gasped at the state of your makeup and your hair.

To think he kissed you while you looked like this... twice, in fact.

You did what you could to clean yourself up, removing the washed-out makeup and letting down your hair to run your fingers through the damp strands. Once there was nothing more you could do, you stepped back out.

The delicious smell of tea was fragrant in the air, carried on the warmth of the fire. Barbatos had set the tea out on the small round table of the sitting area and turned when you entered. He was still fully dressed in his wet formal wear, and you realized with amusement that he’d gotten engrossed in ensuring the tea and setup were perfect. The porcelain cups and saucers were delicate and beautiful, with floral designs and golden rims. The spoons were made of silver, polished to shine in the firelight.

“Welcome back,” he replied with a smile.

You smiled in return. “What’s all this?”

“What does it look like? I thought we could talk over a cup of tea, let our bones warm a little,” he replied as he made final touches to the setup, adjusting the napkins ever so slightly, turning the teapot just so.

“Barbatos...” you chided playfully. “Is this Barbatos the demon, or Barbatos the butler?”

He stared at you for a moment, stunned, and then gave an embarrassed laugh. “Haha, I suppose you’re right... old habits, as they say...” His laugh left his eyes and he stared at you. “I just want you to feel comfortable. I know we’ve known each other for some time; however, it is only our second date.”

“I am comfortable,” you said softly. “More comfortable than I’ve ever been since I first arrived here.” You stepped closer towards him until you were less than a foot apart. “I always feel safe with you, Barbatos.”

Barbatos smiled in return, warm and soft as his eyes drank you in. “You don’t know how much it pleases me to hear you say that.”

You rested your hand against his chest. “Your coat is still wet,” you commented.

“Yes,” he replied as he began to undo the buttons. He removed it and you watched as the muscles of his shoulders rolled beneath his white shirt. He laid it carefully over the back of his chair. “It will dry by the fire soon enough.”

He began to undo his bowtie, but your hands came up to stop him.

“Please… allow me,” you said softly, even as your heart pounded wildly in your chest.

Barbatos swallowed slightly, but let his hands fall until they found their place on your hips, gentle and unassuming.

Slowly, carefully, you began to undo his tie for him as the air warmed between you with each shaky breath. Once it was loose, you gently pulled on the black material, watching as it slid along his collar before falling off.

Your eyes locked with his.

It was enough to make the last of his gentlemanly resolve vanish, and he kissed you, his lips capturing yours needily. The tie fell from your grip to land in a careless pile on the floor as your arms went up around his neck to pull him closer. His hands tightened around you in return, fingers spread wide as they traveled across your back. The warmth of him, the firmness of his body beneath the soft fabrics of his clothes... it was better than every fantasy you’d ever had, dreams paling beneath the shadow of the very real demon in front of you.

Barbatos’s hands shifted from your body to your jaw, cupping your face in a delicate hold. Once again you opened your mouth to him, eager to revisit that sinful moment on the steps of the opera house, as your fingers tangled into his hair at the base of his neck. The strands were soft between your fingers, his tongue sweet with the hint of tea. He must have tasted it before you emerged from the bathroom earlier, no doubt to ensure its perfection.

But now it sat abandoned as your fingers began to undo the buttons of his shirt, starting at the one high on his neck. As soon as the smooth skin of his chest was exposed, you abandoned your task to run your palms up his chest and back to his neck as you clung tightly to him, your body slotting against his.

He chuckled against your lips as his hands returned to caressing your curves. “What about the tea?” he teased.

You nibbled on his lip, pulling back with your teeth until it released with a pop, earning a growl from the usually reserved demon. “No offense, but screw the tea.”

Barbatos’s eyes widened, his eyebrow raising in judgment. “No offense she says, and yet she wounds me in the same breath.”

You chuckled and planted a kiss on his lips. “Forgive me… but perhaps we can enjoy it after?”

“After?” Barbatos echoed, his eyebrow raising ever higher as the corner of his mouth curled up. His hands slid from the curve of your back to the plush of your ass and squeezed. “After what exactly? What expectations have you brought with you tonight?”

Your breath hitched at his bold touch, yet your eyes narrowed at his obvious teasing. Two could play that game.

You widened your eyes innocently. “Expectations? None.” You looked at the tea setting. “Perhaps we should enjoy a cup now, before it gets cold…”

You began to disentangle from his hold and turn your body toward the seats, but Barbatos’s strong arm wrapped around your waist, blocking you. When you turned to look up at him, he was staring down at you with darkened eyes, his smile gone.

“You know… your dress is wet too...” he hummed as he pulled you back against him.

Checkmate.

Your arms returned around his neck. “Is it now?”

Barbatos’s hands once again moved along the curve of your back. “Perhaps we should slip you into something more comfortable?”

As he spoke, his fingers gently traced the line of your spine until he reached the top of the zipper. Slowly he pulled it down, the material relaxing around you, every soft bit of your skin freed from restraint. His fingers traced back up along your now naked spine as his lips gently brushed yours, the tip of his tongue teasing your mouth open. It pulled a wanton moan from your throat, a sound that would have made you falter in embarrassment in any other moment... except his touch was far too distracting to care anymore, his chest echoing your own in a low, satisfied hum. The delicacy of his long, slender fingers skated across your shoulder blades to catch beneath the straps of your dress and slid it off your shoulders. You removed your arms from the falling straps, and Barbatos’s hands helped the dress the rest of the way over your hips until it fell to a puddle around your feet.

He withheld his kisses for a moment to allow his eyes to drink you in from head to toe as his hands followed your silhouette.

“Did you match for me?” he mused as he stared at your matching bra and panties. “A bit hopeful tonight, were you?” he grinned as he nuzzled your jawline with his nose. “Expectations indeed.”

“Better safe than sorry,” you replied. “And yes, a little bit hopeful...”

His nose continued to follow the curve of your neck then your shoulder as he talked, his breath coating your skin. “Then I’ll consider this a fortunate turn of events. I typically don’t expect such intimacy on the second date, but for you I’m more than happy to make an exception.”

Barbatos’s teeth caught on the strap of your bra as his eyes stared over your shoulder to observe the tantalizing view of his hand caressing the curve of your lace-covered ass. It made your stomach flip, your head spin, and your heat grow between your legs, the slick already building thick within your thin panties. You were eager; you wanted nothing more than for him to take you right this instant, in any which way. But Barbatos was the opposite; he took his time and savored. It was driving you mad. You shifted your stance just slightly in impatience, the sound of your shoes clicking on the stone floor of his room.

It was enough to catch his attention, to release your bra strap from his pearly white teeth and look down at your heels. “Hm, perhaps we should remove those shoes of yours...” he smiled against your lips.

Before you could protest, he bent just enough to wrap his arms around your thighs and hoisted you up in his arms, your body pressed against his. It shocked you how easily he lifted you, as if you weighed practically nothing, his lean muscular figure disguising his demonic strength.

Slowly he walked you back towards his bed as his mouth began to leave kisses in your cleavage, his tongue flicking out occasionally to lick and taste. It made your breaths come out in pants, made your body squirm slightly in his hold, and yet he held you steadily until he reached his destination.

You had thought he would have tossed you onto his bed, following with his body. Or at least that was what you had hoped for. However, Barbatos always managed to surprise you with the unexpected. Instead, he set you gently back down on your feet.

“Sit,” he ordered. His tone was soft and not at all overbearing or firm, yet you found yourself following the command instantly.

Then he kneeled before you and gently lifted your left foot. His hands carefully removed your shoe followed by a trail of gentle kisses up your ankle to your calf. Then he set down your left foot and repeated the action with your right, once again removing the shoe carefully and following it up with kisses.

However, this time, the kisses didn’t stop at your calf. His lips kept traveling. Past the knee, up the inside of the thigh... your legs parted willingly as your breaths began to quicken, your clit pulsing heavily for him in anticipation. As he got closer, he pushed your legs wider still, his palm firm against the inside of your knee, and pulled you closer to him until your ass was barely on the edge of his soft, plush mattress.

He paused once he was between your legs, and inhaled through his nose, his eyes closing as if he were savoring a rich, herbal tea.

“I love your scent,” he whispered.

His eyes opened and you gasped as his green irises glowed, his canines slightly sharper and longer. The human illusion faded away like a mirage and now you could see the small, bony wings in place of horns, could see the long, double-ended serpentine tail curling and twitching behind him, shining wet. He still wore his clothes from the evening, his shirt half unbuttoned.

Barbatos watched you with an unreadable gaze. “Are you afraid?” he asked.

You shook your head vigorously. “No,” you breathed. “Just amazed at how beautiful you are.”

Barbatos chuckled, low and deep, ending on a soft hum. “She says with her legs spread wide for me...” His finger trailed the shape of you through your panties and your body twitched as you bit your lip. “Trust me when I say you are the beautiful one.”

Then he leaned forward and kissed your core, right on that tight bundle of nerves through the delicate fabric. You gasped against it, a moan bursting from your chest as you leaned back further, bracing your weight on your hands. Barbatos’s eyes flashed up at you, brows low and pupils blown wide with lust. He kissed you again, firmer this time. Again, you whined for him, your thighs tensing as pleasure tickled your nerves from the epicenter of his touch.

On his third return, his tongue flicked out to lick you through the fabric, followed by the press of his lips as his mouth closed over your clit.

You were panting heavily now, your heart pounding against your ribs in desperation. Again, he licked and kissed. And again. Slowly, steadily, with more pressure than before. His fingers began to stroke your entrance through the fabric, his long fingers drawing up and down.

As his mouth worked you higher and higher through your panties, you felt the warm wetness of his tail wrap itself around your leg and slowly slither up in a spiraling, winding trail. It was foreign, stimulating, and entirely erotic. As the tips of his tail reached the height of your inner thigh, they slipped beneath your panties, gliding against your lips and teasing your entrance, causing it to spasm. Then the tail hooked around the sopping wet fabric and pulled it aside, allowing Barbatos unimpeded access to your cunt as his hands remained firm against the inside of your knees, keeping you spread so wide that the hamstrings of your thighs burned.

“Beautiful...” he murmured as he stared at your pussy with heavy lidded eyes.

Then his mouth was on you, tongue dipping, lips pressing, sucking. You cried out, your head falling back as your back arched. The arousal tightened, sharpened, until you were sure you would cut yourself on it, bleed out all the desire in a gush. Your breaths grew heavier, faster. Your hips began to rock, your legs tremble.

But just as you were about to reach your zenith, Barbatos pulled away.

“W-what??” you protested. “Hey!”

Barbatos chuckled as he wiped his shining wet lips with his thumb. “My apologies. I am not usually one to leave a duty unfinished. However...” his gaze on you grew dark as he stood and began unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. “I made a promise to myself a long time ago.”

You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously. You were still salty he’d stopped, stealing your orgasm from you. “What promise?”

With his shirt unbuttoned and removed, he began to undo the buckle of his pants. He pulled the belt from the loops around his waist, then continued to unbutton the top of his slacks. His pants loosened, sagging to catch on his hips and the hard cock that tented his pants.

You swallowed as you stared at him, your eyes following the curves of his iliac crests, the muscles of his abdomen in soft relief against the firelight. The soft tuft of dark hair below his navel gave way to the base of his cock, still barely hidden beneath his slacks.

A realization hit you. Barbatos didn’t wear underwear. No boxers, no briefs, nothing. Nothing but the thin black fabric of his slacks between his cock and the world.

Your hands reached out, grabbing onto the fabric to tug it down and free him as he watched you with amusement in his eyes. His cock sprang free, perfect and beautiful. Your hand wrapped around it, feeling the warmth of it, the smoothness of the skin, the veins that trekked along its sides...

Barbatos’s finger tucked beneath your chin and forced your eyes to look up at him.

“I promised myself,” he continued, “that the first time I make you cum, it’ll be on my cock.”

Your eyes widened and you swallowed. His smirk turned into a devilish grin as he dipped his head down and captured your mouth with his, the scent of you still on his lips. As his tongue forced its way past your lips, his body invaded you, bearing down on you, forcing you to back further into the bed that smelled entirely of him.

He kissed you hungrily as his hand quickly undid the clasp of your bra before hooking his fingers into your panties and pulling them down off your legs, the clinging wet strings of arousal stretching and snapping as the material left your throbbing cunt. Then he was over you again, surrounding you, caging you with his body as his thighs pushed your legs open for him, the head of his cock nestled against your entrance.

“Please...” you begged, your body taut with need.

He stared at you, the affection heavy in his gaze and written in the flush of his cheeks like paint on paper.

“You will tell me if it’s too much, yes?” he said softly. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I promise,” you whispered.

You hooked your legs around the back of his thighs and pressed, and he obliged, the leaking head of his cock pushing into your wet heat as his lips parted in a silent breath. You inhaled, your ribcage expanding and your back arching as his cock dragged across every awakened nerve within you, causing your walls to clench tightly around his girth. He was long, and he filled every inch of you and then some, pushing you past your limits as you gasped in a short cry.

Barbatos froze for a moment, concern in his veridian eyes. But your body quieted, your expression one of bliss rather than pain, and he breathed as he pulled out and entered you again slowly, feeling the way your body greeted him, took him, made a home for him. Every inch of you was trembling; the air leaving your lungs on shaky breaths, your thighs practically vibrating, your walls fluttering.

Barbatos’s hand cupped your cheek and he pressed his forehead to yours as you looked at him through half-open, lust-blown eyes.

“My pretty girl...” he whispered tenderly. “My pretty little human. So fragile, so beautiful. Look at you, laid out before me, shaking like a leaf.” He pulled out slowly and pushed in again, the muscles of his biceps shaking with restraint. “You don’t know how long I’ve dreamed of this moment...”

You smiled and gave a breathy laugh that ended in a hitch as he bottomed out in you. “At least as long as I have, I hope...”

Barbatos smiled against your lips. “Longer,” he promised, followed by a stolen kiss.

But words could only last for as long as you both had focus, and it quickly waned in favor of the pleasure that washed over you with each thrust, your body and mind immersed in the feel of him. With your body fully acclimated and pliable beneath his touch, his thrusts quickened as speech gave way to sounds of pleasure; of grunts and groans, gasps and pants.

Barbatos’s knowledge of the human body was not to be underestimated. With each dip of his hips, his cock rubbed against your most sensitive parts, each thrust ending in a grind of his groin to roll your swollen, sensitive clit against him. His hand caressed your body, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers, before sliding down to grip your thigh against him as his mouth devoured yours.

Your body shifted, your breaths quickened, catching in your chest as the arousal swelled, nerves on fire. “Please...” you begged as you clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Please, I’m so close...”

He sat up, adjusting his angle to allow his cock to press harder against the top of your walls where you were most sensitive. The change position allowed him the full freedom of his hands, and he took full advantage. He held your right leg over his shoulder while his other hand drew fast, steady circles over your swollen clit with his thumb. He quickened his thrusts for you, spurred by your pleas, your confessions of pleasure. He watched in rapture as your eyes glazed over then widened, as your back arched when your orgasm piqued, igniting across your nerves. Over and over, it crashed over you, drowning you, stealing your voice in favor of gasps of air and primal moans.

Barbatos relished the sight, the way you broke before him, because of him. He relished in the feel of you tight around his cock, your walls pulsing, sucking him in. He released your leg from his grip and leaned over you again, his lips stealing yours as he pistoned even faster, now that he was able to finally chase his own release. He buried himself in you with each thrust, the ‘pap’ ‘pap’ of skin hitting skin loud in his ears. You cried out against him with each thrust, your teeth digging into his shoulder. If it weren’t for your legs tightening in an iron grip around him, he would have stopped, checked you for injuries. But instead, you clung to him, your body beyond words, beyond control.

Were you going to cum again? So soon?

The thought alone was enough to send Barbatos over the edge, hot cum spilling from his cock with a groan as he rode out the burning wave of pleasure that washed over him. With each release of his load into you, a new wave followed, and he chased it relentlessly, savoring every second of you pinned beneath him, wrapped around him...

Your body spasmed against him and you half moaned, half cried into his shoulder, your arms tight around his neck as your hips rolled and bucked, your breaths forced out on a parched, hot tongue and burning lungs. It only added to his own pleasure; not just the fresh spasming of your cunt around him, milking the last of what he had to offer, but the way you moaned for him, clung to him, needed him, as if you’d shatter if every inch of you weren’t touching.

With the majority of his orgasm already falling to the wayside, he kept his pace until he was sure you had finished, when your death grip on his neck finally loosened and your head fell back damp with sweat into his rich bedsheets, panting heavily for air.

Barbatos was less winded of course, thanks to his superior strength and stamina. It allowed him the opportunity to lift himself on his arms and stare down at you, memorizing every detail.

As your breaths finally eased, your eyes fluttered open. As soon as you saw him staring down at you, you covered your face with a giggle. Barbatos smiled and grabbed your hand in his, pulling it off your face and pinning it above your head. He kissed you with smiling lips, and you returned it in kind, your free hand wrapping lazily around his neck, your fingers gently threading through his sweaty strands. He kissed you again, and again, moving from your lips to your cheek, to your jaw. You giggled against it, and he smiled against your skin as he buried his face into your neck and allowed himself to rest some of his weight onto you.

“Are you alright?” he finally asked. His voice was low and reverberated into your chest.

Your fingers lightly grazed back and forth along the back of his neck absently.

“Yeah,” you replied drowsily. “You?”

“Hm, yes.” he confirmed. “Very much so.”

After a long quiet moment, you spoke again, your eyes staring at the ceiling. “That was... wow.”

Barbatos pulled back sightly to look at you. “Do you regret it? Was it too soon?”

You looked at him in confusion and gave an amused laugh. “Definitely not. I’ve been wanting for that forever.” A pause. “How about you? Do you regret it?”

Barbatos smiled as he allowed the tips of his fingers to trace your body. He followed your neck, your shoulder, the curve of your breast. His smile widened as your nipple perked and hardened under his touch.

“No,” he replied. “It happened sooner than I expected, but trust me when I say I have zero regrets. Had I known it would be like this, I would have claimed you sooner.”

You stared at him with poorly masked surprise. Barbatos gave a soft chuckle as his fingers continued their trek down along your hip to your thigh.

“I meant what I said earlier this evening...” he said as he watched his hand travel. “I do not look into your future. I did not know this would happen.” His hand trailed back up your side to visit the gentle slopes of your arm, following the lines to your sensitive palm. His fingers twined with yours and he looked back at your eyes. “And I’m glad. Seeing this future would have dulled the experience. It was meant to happen like this; unexpected and perfect.”

Tears stung the corners of your eyes, and you pulled him against you as you kissed him tenderly. When your lips parted again, amusement colored your expression.

“I think I’m ready for that tea now.”

Barbatos grinned down at you. “Absolutely not. I will make us fresh tea.” He glanced down pointedly at where your bodies were still joined, although his white, sticky cum had long since begun to leak out onto the bedding. “But first, perhaps a bath.”

You laughed as you followed his gaze. “Yes, a bath would be nice.”

You had expected him to pull out of you, to help you stand and walk with you. You were prepared for the walk of shame, the humorous waddle of cupping your hand between your legs to catch any remaining drops of Barbatos’s gift that would inevitably leak out on your journey to the bathroom. But instead, his tail slithered its way between your back and the mattress and wrapped around your waist, as his hands gripped the globes of your butt.

“Hold on,” he ordered.

“What’re you—AH!”

He hoisted you up in his arms, your body securely pressed against his. You giggled into his shoulder as he carried you to the bathroom, his tail loosening around your waist in order to open the door while he continued to support your weight easily with his palms.

He set you down near the toilet. “If my memory of human anatomy is still correct, you should pee.”

You sat on the toilet to do as he asked, and watched as he began to fill the very large bathtub with hot water. The sight of him nude in front of you was both arousing and odd. He always kept himself covered from head to toe, so much so that even the slightest hint of arm or shoulder had been enough to make your blood run hot and your thighs squeeze together on more than one occasion. But now, you could see every inch of him, and you realized what an absolute insult it was to have his figure covered up at all times.

He looked up to catch you staring at him and you averted your eyes quickly. He smirked.

“Are you finished?” he asked.

You nodded as you cleaned yourself.

He held out his hand to you. “Then come join me.”

You did, stepping into the bathwater with his body behind you. You sighed as you leaned back against him, the water coming up to barely cover your breasts. His hands caressed your arms, your legs; any part of you he could easily touch.

It was a soft silence, a gentle togetherness where words had no place. There was no need for them. They were too loud, too plain... there was no way to capture what either of you felt, and there was no need to define or label, to announce or question. Before the two of you were not, and now you were. The transition into togetherness came with ease, forged through intimacy and surrender, through the carefully laid bricks of friendship and time.

Barbatos washed your hair for you, planting a kiss to your forehead as you tilted your head back to rinse. He washed your back too, and your arms, the soft washcloth trailing over every inch of skin. Your knees, your thighs... But then the washcloth was abandoned in favor of his fingers between your legs, parting your lips beneath the warm, sudsy water to find the pearl of nerves nestled protectively at the apex of your folds.

“Barbatos...” you moaned as you felt that familiar heat reignite. He planted a silent kiss to your temple as he began to move his first two fingers in small circles. Your legs spread as far as they could within the tub, and he took that as an invitation to increase his pace as his other hand cupped and massaged your breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers with small pinches.

He worked you quickly and with ease. Within a minute, your head was tilted back against his shoulder as he watched his hand work you beneath the water, your body tensing and flexing each time he passed the pads of his fingers over you. Quicker and quicker he circled, increasing the pressure until that familiar sound of your heavy panting greeted his ears and your hips rocked, causing your back to press against his hard cock. He pressed kisses against your jaw line, your neck, and he watched your face as your eyes fluttered closed and your brows drew together, your mouth slightly parted.

You came with a groan, your back arching against him, and he maintained his pace, his digits circling vigorously as he whispered soft praises into your ear.

“Good girl. My beautiful girl...”

As the pleasure receded to a low hum across your skin, you slumped against him with a sigh and closed eyes. After a moment, you opened your eyes and looked at him. He smiled and kissed you.

“What was that for?” you asked.

“Do I need a reason?” he replied. His hands caressed your shoulders as his lips grazed the curve of your ear. “Because I wanted to,” he whispered.

You turned as best you could in the tub and kissed him tenderly.

You wanted to reciprocate, to run your fingers through his dark green hair as you washed it, to cleanse his pale skin with soap on your palms and affection in your touch. You wanted to make him feel as good as you felt, to know the weight of him in your hand, your mouth...

But he spoke first.

“Come,” he ordered.

Before you could protest, Barbatos disentangled himself from you and stepped lithely out of the tub. He grabbed one towel and wrapped it around his lean frame. Then he grabbed a second towel for you and held it open in quiet invitation. Unable to say no, you stood and stepped out of the tub, the cool air of the bathroom kissing your skin for only a moment as turned your back to him. He wrapped the soft cloth around you, his arms wrapping around you as he did so. He pulled you close against him until his chin rested on your shoulder.

“There is a spare robe on the rack by the door,” he explained. “And you may borrow any of my clothes if you so wish. I will make us a fresh batch of tea.”

With a kiss planted against your wet hair, he stepped away. You watched as he abandoned his towel and grabbed his other robe, pulling his arms through the sleeves before crossing the fabric over his nudity and tying the sash. With a brief glance and a small smile, he stepped out and closed the door, as if to give you privacy you no longer needed.

You breathed a heavy breath slowly from your lungs, allowing the release to steady you as you processed the reality of all that had transpired thus far.

The mellow acceptance you’d felt earlier when Barbatos was with you gave way to a mixture of elation and shock that hummed through your body and mind, reverberating against your isolation within the bathroom. It felt as if your heart would explode, the beating muscle unable to keep up with the demands of the emotions that swirled inside of you like a vortex. You felt up-ended, chaotic, yet free.

This wasn’t at all how you thought this would happen. You had always pictured the process as slow, requiring a level of patience you weren’t entirely sure you possessed. You’d ease into it, learn how to navigate Barbatos’s complexity on a level that you had yet to explore or fully understand, like learning to sail for the first time in uncharted waters.

Instead, the tether of caution, of safety, had been snapped from its mooring, and now you felt you were spinning, drifting, carried out on a heavy tide with no knowledge of where it led or how to navigate it; a small boat in deep waters, large waves, and not a paddle to be found.

You wanted to trust in it. To trust in him. To trust the softness of his touch, the delicacy of his kisses, the honesty of his words.

You wanted to trust that you would be kept safe, protected; that your small little boat would not be capsized by the weight of all that he was – an ancient, timeless, a creature beyond human understanding. You wanted to trust that he would not let you drown, would not let you sink into the bottomless black, dragged deep by the limits of your mortality and understanding.

To trust your heart to him, your soul... it was like trusting the ocean to be kind to you, as if the ocean were anything but indifferent.

But Barbatos was not indifferent. In fact, he was far from it. But he wasn’t human, either. His view of life, death, the world... it went far beyond your own comprehension, and you couldn’t help but wonder how you, in all of your insignificance, had managed to even catch his attention to begin with, let alone hold his eye.

You began to gather yourself, your movements slow and sluggish as you dried your body. Your thighs and your cunt ached, but it was pleasurable, a soft reminder of the intimacy you’d shared. It helped root you to the present, to tear your eyes away from that distant, unknown horizon and focus on the sand beneath your feet.

You stepped out of the bathroom to the smell of a sweet, floral fragrance. You quickly noticed the new bedding on his bed, and wondered if you’d lost track of time, or if he’d used magic to quickly change them. Either way, it looked ready to sleep in.

Barbatos was by the small table with a fresh pot of tea, the arrangement prepared. He was still in his robe, the silky fabric loosely open towards the top providing a pleasant view of his chest. He looked up from when you entered and smiled as his eyes raked over your figure.

“Perhaps I should let you keep that,” he said.

You looked down at the robe. “If I did, then it’d have to come back with me to the House of Lamentation,” you teased as you walked towards him.

Barbatos narrowed his eyes. “Then, perhaps not. Such beauty should be for my eyes only.”

He took you into his arms as soon as you were within reach and kissed you. Then he motioned to the table and chairs.

“Tea?” he offered.

You laughed. “Yes.”

You both sat, the air between you warm and comfortable, the conversation between you flowing easily. It eased your nerves and quieted your fears. In private moments like this, it didn’t matter that you were a human, and he was a demon. What mattered was the happiness, the laughs, the comfort it brought you to be in his presence. The foundation of the two of you remained, and yet there was a newness that coated it, a novelty and open curiosity. Your feet played with his under the table; his tail teased your leg. And the looks shared were a newly opened secret, an invitation to explore each other’s hearts, while sensitive hands itched to explore each other’s bodies.

Once the tea was gone, the conversation moved to the couch in front of the fire. You curled yourself up against Barbatos’s side as your eyes watched the flames dance.

“How come I’ve never heard the Divine Language before?” you asked, your brow furrowed. “I talk to you and all the other demons and angels just fine.”

Barbatos gave a small smile. “That’s because we are naturally fluent in every language. We speak to you in your language because we have to.”

Your head lifted from his shoulder. “Really? I mean, I guess that makes sense...I just...huh. Never really thought about it.”

Your head went back to its resting place.

“I did mean it, earlier…” he said softly. “You were safe at the opera.”

You were silent for a long moment. “I believe you. But for me, as a mortal, even the slightest possibility of not being safe was terrifying.”

Barbatos’s arm tightened around you. “I assure you; I had multiple failsafes in place in the highly unlikely possibility that I was incorrect.”

You lifted your head again to look at him. “Like what?”

He glanced at you and returned his gaze to the fire. “In the worst-case scenario, I was prepared to teleport you instantly.”

“But that’s not the worst-case…” you said softly. “Worst-case would be if teleporting is too late.”

Barbatos was silent for a long moment, his expression locked in stillness. “If such a thing happened, then I would be forced to use my ability.”

“With Lord Diavolo’s permission…”

A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Yes, of course.”

You didn’t feel entirely convinced by his response, which alarmed you. Barbatos was always absolute in not using his time travel ability without the Prince’s explicit permission or instruction. Even the hint of possibility that his commitment to that single, most important rule would potentially falter... because of you...

“However,” he continued, his gentle smile returning, “even average humans can withstand the power of the Divine Language for at least a few minutes.”

Relief filled you. “Really?”

“How do you think God and his angels talked to the prophets?” He grinned. “So, I will tell you again, you were safe.”

You smiled appreciatively at his reassurances, but it dissipated as you had another curious thought.

“If you were so worried about the risks and had so many plans in place, why didn’t you just... not invite me? Or maybe take me somewhere else?”

Barbatos gave a small, embarrassed laugh. “Yes, I did consider that option first. However, we’d already been struggling to find time for each other recently. And I did not want the young master’s efforts to go to waste, even though he hadn’t considered the concerns regarding the Divine Language.” He tilted his head slightly as he watched the flames. “Besides, I thought the love story was somewhat... fitting.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. In a strange way, it was. You snuggled tighter against him.

An idea popped into your head.

“Can you speak the Divine Language?” you asked.

“Of course, I can. I am a demon after all.”

You looked up at him again, your eyes shining. “Say something to me.”

Barbatos stared down at you with wide eyes. “Like what?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know... Whatever you want.”

Barbatos stared at you as he thought. Then he took a hesitant breath and spoke.

The sounds were a melody, a chorus of voice tuned to his deep tone. It washed over you gently, blanketing you until every inch of you felt warm and safe. It chased away your fears of death and loss, and instead, it made you want to trust him with your life. His finger gently traced the line of your jaw as he spoke, a gentle smile on his lips. It was short, lasting mere seconds, yet it somehow felt longer.

Silence fell between you as your mind gradually cleared.

“Did you understand it that time?” he asked curiously.

“I... I don’t know. Was I supposed to?”

“It was directed at you, so I had hoped you would.”

“It wasn’t so much words, but more of a... feeling?”

“What did it feel like?”

“Being safe... and warm... Is that how it works? Through feelings and pictures?”

“I don’t know,” he confessed. “I’ve never been human.”

You made a face. “Eh, that’s okay. It’s overrated.”

He laughed deep and rich, and the sound of it made you laugh too, the joy contagious. Then his smile faded, and he tilted his head at you.

“So, what did you say?” you asked.

Barbatos was silent for a moment, as if debating with himself. Finally, he spoke quietly, his voice solemn. “I told you I will always protect you.”

Your stared at him with parted lips, hoping to find the words that could equal his own, but there were none. Instead, you kissed him gently, your hand cupping his jaw. He reciprocated, his hand covering yours as his arm tightened around you. It made the latent desire in you reawaken, and you deepened the kiss with your tongue. Barbatos welcomed you, his mouth opening with yours, his warm tongue swiping and tasting.

You hummed and crawled into his lap, your legs straddling him. The action forced your robe to part below the sash, exposing yourself to him. The sight brought a pleased hum into the back of his throat, and his kisses deepened, battling your tongue for supremacy. His grip on you tightened, his fingers digging into the fat of your hips through the fabric to pull you closer against him.

His cock awakened within seconds, hard and hot, and you pressed your wet cunt against the length of it. You rolled your hips until your clit rubbed against him, and moaned into his mouth. He swallowed the sound with his tongue swiping along yours as his hands forced your hips to roll on him again. Your hands began to untie the sash of his robe and he chuckled against your lips.

“Again?” he teased.

The sash gave way, and you pushed the edges of his robe aside to expose the length of his body beneath you. “Shut up,” you replied playfully as you savored the feel of his chest with your hands.

Barbatos’s cock twitched beneath you, and he began untying your robe in return. “You lose your manners when you’re horny,” he grinned. “My impatient little human.”

He pushed the robe off your shoulders, and it dropped behind you off the couch. He started at your silhouette in the firelight, his hands caressing your curves.

Your hand wrapped around the shaft of him and gave him a couple of languid strokes, teasing the flushed head with your thumb. Barbatos closed his eyes and hummed.

You tutted at him. “Yes, well this impatient little human is going to ride your very big demon cock,” you breathed lustfully.

He growled low, and when he opened his eyes, they glowed like emeralds caught in sunlight. “You should be careful what you say to a demon, my dear.” He watched through heavy-lidded eyes as you lined yourself up with him, your dripping cunt hovering over his cock head. “I have more control than most, but even I have my limits.”

His grip on your hips tightened, fingernails digging into soft flesh, as you lowered yourself onto him slowly, your gaze hazy and lovesick. Your eyes rolled back, your lids closing, as you reached the base of his cock, taking every inch, his tip pressing deep into you. It ached, your body still sore from earlier. It blended with the burning pleasure as he stretched you, creating a sweet harmony of love and pain, pleasure and danger. You rocked your hips slightly, then slid back up, only to come back down again with a slowness that even rivaled Barbatos’s patience.

“Then again…” he muttered as his eyes watched his cock disappear into you, “perhaps I made you wait too long.”

You moaned softly, your head nodding in hazy affirmation as you slid up and down his cock again. Barbatos’s hands began to move your hips, forcing you to rub your clit against him with each descent. The pressure of his hands forced you to quicken your pace.

“Humans…” he continued teasingly as he watched your breasts start to bounce deliciously. “You always want everything now, now, now.”

Your eyes were closed in ecstasy, your head lolling back. Your lips curled into a grin. “Are you saying I’m spoiled?” you breathed.

He forced you down harder onto his cock and you moaned as your cunt tightened. Fresh arousal coated his shining shaft, dripping slowly down his balls.

“Not yet, my sweet girl. But you will be.”

Then Barbatos wrapped his arms around your waist and held you close against him as he snapped his hips up to meet yours, his cock slamming into you. You yelped and clung to him, your face buried into his neck. He did it again. And again. Each time, he pushed your hips down to meet his as he thrusted. Each time you cried out in high pitched whines as your breaths were knocked from your lungs. And each time, his cock grew harder and harder as he felt his own pleasure rapidly rising. Your body caught his fast rhythm, your thighs and your hips working yourself frantically on his cock as you rode him. Your breasts were pressed against him, his teeth digging into your collarbone as you panted, your whines rising in pitch with each hit of your sensitive walls. Your hands gripped the couch on either side of his head, your brows drawn together as you chased the release you so desperately craved.

Barbatos looked up at you, watched the curve of your neck, your jaw. Watched every little way your muscles and tendons twitched and spasmed as the tension built within you. His own pleasure was building swiftly, and he was determined to have you cum with him while he spilled himself inside your sensitive walls. His thick tail wrapped around your waist, the tips of it dipping between your legs. The tips were dexterous, wet and warm, and they tickled your clit, pressing against it, pinching, swiping. With your eyes squeezed shut it nearly felt like being eaten out while being fucked.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck!” you cried.

He timed it perfectly, your orgasm cascading over you just as his crested, his load filling you as you rode him. He couldn’t suppress the grunts and groans that overtook him, couldn’t fight the way his strong hands forced you down onto him over and over again with brutal intensity as his tail tightened around you. You cried his name, wrapped in moans of pleasure as the tears in your eyes finally spilled over, leaving wet tracks on your cheeks that dripped onto his shoulder.

He felt them, cold, wet drops landing on his hot skin. He took your face in his hands and kissed you passionately as his tail kept you in place, helping your body to rut against him through the final stretch of your shared orgasm, his cock twitching the last drops into your cunt.

Finally, his tail relaxed around your waist, and you collapsed against him with your arms around his neck and your face buried into his shoulder. Your entire body heaved as your lungs gasped for air. The elation pumping through your veins faded away to reveal the pain waiting beneath it in the form of burning thighs, fiery lungs, and a cunt that felt bruised and battered.

Barbatos’s hands gently caressed your back as he waited for you to recover. Once your breaths steadied and your heart no longer pounded loud enough for Barbatos to hear it, he spoke.

“Are you alright?” he asked softly.

There was a pause that worried him, and then you nodded your head against his shoulder.

But you didn’t speak yet, and so he continued. “Was I too rough?”

Your response was quicker this time, your head shaking in denial.

He gave a soft, worried chuckle. “Can you talk?”

You giggled softly and forced yourself to sit up just enough to look at him. Your face was shining with sweat, and your eyes looked tired. “I’m okay, I promise,” you finally said. Then you laid against him again, your body feeling like stretched out rubber.

He tightened his arms around your waist and kissed your shoulder. “Do you feel satisfied yet?” he asked.

You laughed against him, even though the action made your ribs ache. The richness of it warmed him, pushing his lingering worries back to the distant horizon of his mind.

“Yes, very much so,” you replied. “But I probably won’t be able to do that again tonight.”

Barbatos sat up slightly from his slouched position, and the action made you wince, his soft cock still nestled inside you.

He paused for a moment before making you sit up enough to look at him.

“You’re hurt,” he commented, his brow furrowed.

“I’m sore, there’s a difference,” you replied with a grin. “Don’t worry, I promise I’m fine. I’m just... gonna move real slow for a while.”

“You will not move at all until you’re well again,” he replied firmly.

You put your forehead to his, a playful grin on your lips. “Hmm, does that mean I get to stay in your bed while you dote on me?”

Barbatos smirked and he kissed you with a peck. “Perhaps...”

“Then yes,” you replied. “I’m sore. So sore. Suffering, even. I don’t think I’ll be able to move for a week.”

“And what makes you think you’ll be able to recover so quickly if you’re in my bed?” he replied mischievously as his hands lightly squeezed your ass.

“Barbatos,” you scolded mockingly, “are you telling me that you would take advantage of me in my weakened state? That’s not very gentlemanly of you.”

Barbatos chuckled. “I’m a demon, not an angel,” he replied. “I told you earlier even I have my limits.” He kissed you softly. “But... I promise to be gentle.”

You kissed him softly in return. Then he wrapped his arms and tail around you, and this time you were prepared as he lifted you up again and carried you once more to the bathroom.

He was dutiful in his care, his touches gentle and patient. And when you were both clean again, he picked you up in his arms again and carried you to his bed, a gesture you were quickly growing accustomed to. He set you gently into the plush bedding and followed after you, pulling his thick, clean covers over the both of you. As soon as your head hit his pillow, sleep claimed you, your eyes drifting shut as you drank in the warmth of his skin against yours. They would not open again until the morning.

And as you slept, Barbatos stared at you in the dying firelight of the late night. His fingers absently danced along your arm, your hair, your back. And as he touched you gently, the time passed, seconds into minutes, and minutes into hours. The embers turned to ash, the room pitched into blackness, and Barbatos still could not sleep, as he battled within himself. Finally, in defeat, he allowed himself one confession, to be spoken barely at a whisper in a language your soul would feel but your brain would not understand. The lilting, singing words spoken on a divine, immortal tongue drifted past his lips, unable to be recalled or undone.

“I love you.”

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