#it's five o' clock somewhere | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

writing-havoc · 1 year

Note

Hey! How're you? I hope you're well.

I absolutely adore your works and I hope it's okay to make a request? It's just a little idea I had, sort of inspired by your latest fic :)

Where the reader is a part of the crows and one night she finds this small child outside the club and she feels really sorry for them and brings them into the club and tries to help them? Maybe with a bit of Kaz x reader? Whatever you feel inspired to write to be honest :D

I hope this is okay, I love your works so much! 💖💞

Enough

♡ Summary: You do your best to care for a little boy you found while Kaz cools down

♡ Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Reader

♡ Fandom: Six of Crows, Grishaverse

♡ Warning(s): Hunger, Child Abandonment, says Yn twice

♡ WC: 4.6k

I could have sworn there was a mention of like, a café by name in the books somewhere but I couldn't find it? I just made one up but man this is gonna drive me crazy lol

Anyway, here you go! I hope it is to your liking and tysm for the request and kind words <3 so glad my fic could inspire!

Please excuse any grammar and spelling mistakes

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Finding a child in an alleyway was not something you expected to tick off your bingo card so soon. Taking the child with you to the Crow Club with plans to look after him wasn't even on the card. And yet, here you are.

He's small, top of his head barely reaching your belly button, and his hands are freezing from where they hold onto your own.

You had found him not twenty minutes ago, and planned to just leave him there like any sensible person. But unfortunately, you're not as good at turning your moral compass upside down like everyone else.

So you got his attention, approaching his little shelter and offering him the last slice of bread you had swiped from someone's open kitchen window. He was hesitant to reach for it, hands slowly edging toward you as if you'd rip it away any moment, and with a certain gentleness took the piece from your hand and began to nibble on it.

His clothes were dirty, dipped in whatever dirt the Barrel has rubbed off on him and drenched through to the bone. Things were coming apart at the seams and the soles of his shoes you can tell were about to separate from the rest.

You had asked him where his parents are, and your heart immediately sunk when he looked away and towards the canal, his tiny nibbling seizing.

That was what snapped the little string you had holding you back, the other side tied to your sense of reasoning.

He's just a kid. You were just a kid once. Arguably still are. You'll be damned if you had to watch someone who was no older than 7 go through the same fate you did.

But your sentiments were short lived, starting and ending with you, as the moment you stepped through the doors of the Crow Club with the kid clutching your hand, Kaz was narrowing his eyes and his teeth were gritting.

You glared at Dreg members around you, daring them to stop you as you made your way to the back of the club where all the alcohol is stored. Nina and Jesper were setting up chairs, and you gave them a blank look as you entered the room, the sound of metal thumping rhythmically following.

"Yn." A rough gravelly voice calls behind you.

You ignore it, looking at the kid. "Is it alright if I lift you up? Just to here, hun."

In the softest voice you ever heard, the kid says "Yeah." and allows you to put your hands under his arms and lift him onto a crate.

"Yn," Kaz calls again, making your blood simmer.

There's really nothing you can do here. The Club is going to open in a few moments for the five o' clock rush and there's not any spare clothes. You'll have to wait until you can go to the market later to fetch him some clothes and bathe him at the Slat.

The ferrule of a cane drags across the floor, and you roll your eyes.

"Give me a moment, okay?" You say to the kid, waiting for him to nod before turning around, exiting into the main bar area.

"Are you mad?" He hisses at you, hand gripping his cane so hard you can see it shake. "What could have possibly made you think bringing a child here would be a good idea?"

His anger isn't too surprising. But if you're being honest, it's annoying.

"I was thinking that he has nowhere to go." You say, voice low as you walk away from the door a little more. Kaz follows you, eyebrows still snapped together and a hardness to his jaw you don't think you've ever seen directed at you. "He was outside and shivering inside a make-shift shelter made out of fruit crates and a tattered towel. He needs a place to stay."

"I don't care what it needs. It has no place here." His eyes flicker to the kid.

You cross your arms, anger bubbling in your chest. "He is not going anywhere. He is cold, and small, and hungry, and we have everything here and at the Slat to keep him comfortable."

His eyes snap back to you. "This isn't a daycare. We can't just swing our doors open to any lost kid you manage to find on the streets. This is the fucking Crow Club."

"I know damn well what this place is, Kaz." Your jaw hurts from how hard you're clenching it, head starting to pound at your temples. "I'm not blind nor incompetent. But he can't weigh more forty pounds and he's way past the age for that to be acceptable. I cannot, in good conscience, let him go for him to starve and eventually die on the streets."

He goes to say something, but stops, eyes flickering around your face. Your jaw is set, features no doubt mirroring his as you stand your ground, hands on your hips and feet stood apart.

"Please, Kaz."

You don't care that he runs this place. You're not about to be pushed around and bullied into staying complicit while this kid dies.

And he knows this.

So he closes his eyes, looking away from you as he takes a deep breath, collecting himself. His hand is no longer shaking, but you can tell he's still angry, ready to swing at both the imaginary and the physical.

He takes one last breath and looks at you, eyes only just softer than before. "You are responsible for him. He's hungry? You feed him. He's hurt? You fix him." The crows head of his cane comes up to look at you. "If he causes trouble, you deal with him."

You smile for only a moment before you push the cane away from your face, his barrier down. "He's well behaved. It'll be fine."

"You better hope so." He mumbles under his breath, walking away slightly off rhythm.

You watch him leave, members parting when they see his mood. A few even nearly knock over a chair when he gets a bit too close, Nina and Jesper arching their brows as he disappears out the door.

A few people are staring at you, eyes hungry for gossip and a glimpse at the kid you ushered in not minutes before.

You ignore them in turn for trying to figure out what to do with him.

He's sitting on a crate of Kaelish whiskey, legs shut tightly and dangling off the side, arms wrapped around his torso. But he's looking around, taking in the stockpile of alcohol.

"Alright, first things first." You say, leaving a crack in the door as you step into the room. He's jumpy, staring at you with analyzing eyes. "What's your name?"

He opens his mouth to say something, but then pauses, quickly shutting it.

You chuckle. "Listen, kid. Whatever you've got to hide, I don't give a shit. You're in the Barrel now, the only names that matter here are who you've decided to roll your dice with and those who call themselves bosses."

He thinks about it then, eyes narrowing and feet rubbing against eachother inside his tattered shoes. He wets his lips.

"Leopold."

It's... a little far from what you were expecting. You just barely stop yourself from snorting. "You'd have been better off lying."

His face blossoms in red, embarrassment clear as he begins to shut down.

"Hey, hey. I'm sorry." You're still smiling so it doesn't help much. But you kneel down in front of him. "It's customary here to at least make light fun of others when you first meet them." He's not convinced, but he's a little less prickly now, so that's something. "Is Leopold what you'd like to be called? Or is there a different name you have in mind?"

Again, he thinks about it.

"Leo, is fine."

"Leo is much better." You pat his knee, standing up.

His cheeks are still red, but you can tell he feels a little more confident now.

The arms that were tightly coiled around his waist have loosened, resting on his legs. His feet are swinging, just barely, and his back has straightened.

A thought comes to mind when you see his shoe begin to slip off his foot.

"How hungry are you?" You ask.

And before he can answer, you hear a rather loud grumbling from his stomach, and a bit of a pained expression falls on his face.

Your smile drops a little. "Well it's good to see you haven't got comfortable with being hungry yet. Come on." You wave him over as you swing the door open. "We're going to get some waffles."

"Waffles?!" You hear from your left.

Leo jumps in surprise, not expecting the voice.

You, however, were expecting it. Counting on it, even. "Yes, Nina. You can come if you want!"

It's faint, but you can hear her go "yes!" and the sound of a chair scraping against the floor. "No need to ask me twice!"

You look at Leo as he approaches the door, hands fidgeting with eachother.

"None of that." You say, tapping his hands, which in turn makes him fling them apart. "When you walk out of here, in front of all those people, pretend to be confident."

His eyebrows knit together, so you take your finger and smooth it out. "You don't have to actually feel confident, but those guys out there? They're vultures, and I dont think you have the heart to take the amount of teasing and bullying they'll inflict on you if they see you fidgeting like that." You grab his shoulders, and watch in amusement as he stiffens into a board. You give him a thumbs up, then tilt his chin parallel to the floor, bringing it out of its nook in his chest. "Fidgeting is reserved for those who have earned their place here, when everyone knows that if they mess with you, you'll hold your ground."

He's sweating, and his eyes are big and wide, but it's a little better than whatever he had going on before.

You usher him out the door, closing it behind you. People are still staring, and others are giving mean side eyes, but you ignore them, smiling at Nina from where she stands by the door.

Her face gets wider when she sees Leo next to you.

"Oh you're the little bugger that had Brekkers panties in a bunch." She leans down, ruffling his hair. "You and I are going to get along swimmingly."

Leo cringes, scrunching in on himself and away from her hand. He's absolutely not pleased, you think, as Nina takes her hand back.

Lazily helping him sort his hair back out, you start to wonder what this kid even likes.

"Nina, this is Leo. Leo, this is Nina, greatest wolf tamer to grace Fjerda's soil."

Nina scoffs, kicking her leg out and knocking your shin with the toe of her boot. "The whole world, thank you very much." She turns out the door, holding it open for you both as you exit.

You do your best to keep the kid close as you make your way through the streets, idly chatting with Nina as you shove Leo around into various alley ways when you see someone you don't have good relations with and pulling him away from an oncoming carriage when he gets lost staring at the boats that roam the canal.

He has to be an artist's son, or maybe a writer's. You don't know anyone who just stops in the middle of the road to look at boats doing their job and floating on water.

It's actually a miracle you make it to the little diner in one piece.

Inside it smells strongly like shitty coffee and various breakfast foods given the hour, much to both you and Nina's delight.

You're just happy to be out of Barrel air for a moment. Even if you were only just across East Stave and a two minute walk would plant you back in the slums, you swear the air quality just immediately skyrockets the second you cross the bridge.

The menus of this place are built into the tables, Grisha engraved into a thin piece of metal while a thick card on a rack displays the specials.

A booth a little ways away from the corner suits your group well, though you do regret not giving Leo a wipe down before coming out here.

It does seem like he attempted to clean himself off. Probably while Kaz was lecturing you. The dirt that was under his fingernails seems to be picked out, and the smudges on his face are considerably fainter.

It's a good thing you didn't walk into one of the nicer diners around here. But from your experience, the shittier the establishment the better their food will taste.

If you don't feel at least a little unsafe walking by it then it's probably not worth the kruge.

You shimmy into one side of the booth first while Nina slides in on the other side. Leo follows after you, sticking as close as he can while still giving you a bit of arm room.

"Alright." You smile, looking at the little breakfast section, scooting in just a bit more so Leo can look at the menu as well. "I know I said waffles, but really you can order anything you like."

"You're paying, yes?" Nina asks.

You roll your eyes. "Yes, Nina. I'm paying. Though do try and feel a little guilty for my poor pocket."

She doesn't say anything, eyes roaming over the whole breakfast section rather than stopping on just the waffles like usual.

Maybe you'll get some lunch to balance out the sugar that's about to grace the table.

The smallest of taps tickles your shoulder. "What's this?"

He's pounting at the menu, the item catching your eye. "Ah, I forgot these places give awful names to their foods. It's an omelet," you clarify, "with little veggies mixed in. Probably cheese in the middle."

His eyes go wide as you mime the size of such a dish with your hand.

"Would you like it?" You ask, gently probing at the little bits of personality that have managed to unravel themselves in the short time you've known him.

He looks at you, hesitant as he nods. "Yes please."

You smile. "Nice choice, kid."

The praise makes him smile, just as a waiter comes and begins to take your orders.

Of course, Nina gets a few plates of waffles with various toppings that she found interesting with a plate of toast, Leo gets his omelet with extra cheese, and you indulge yourself with a pile of hashbrowns and eggs over top.

Mixing it all together on your plate always sends Kaz into a frenzy. You hope he can feel the monstrosity being prepared and weeps at the sin you're about to commit.

"Does that man hate me?" Leo suddenly asks.

You scrunch your brows, discreetly looking around. "What man?"

"That man from before, that yelled at you." He says, rubbing his finger over a fork he received. "Did I get you in trouble?"

Nina chuckles. "Kaz is just like that. Out of everyone in that place your protector here is of the least likely to get in trouble."

You smile at that, thinking of Kaz's tendencies.

What Nina said isn't exactly true. You get in trouble just as much as the rest of them. Kaz just forgives you easier, is more willing to talk and come to a compromise.

Tonight you'll walk into his office and he'll still be steaming, angry at you for not clearing such a major change with him. He'll glance up at you, shoulders stiff and that cavern between his brows only getting deeper.

But if things go right, that edge he has a habit of keeping sharp will dull, his jaw will slacken, and his eyes will soften. He'll still be the hardstrung mini boss hell bent on making up for the past, but he'll settle down in the present for a little while, drinking the warm tea you set on his desk and heart a bit more open to you.

"No, I'm not in trouble." You fix his collar. "Just have some explaining to do."

Leo frowns, opting to pick at the metal menus. His leg is bouncing up at down, temples flexing. "So he is mad at me?"

You glance at Nina. She has a tightness to her lips, not knowing what to say either.

A joke, then. "He's not allowed to be mad at you before he meets you. However, I will be mad at you if you piss yourself in this booth."

His cheeks turn scarlet, not knowing where to look anymore. "I didnt know where the bathroom was."

"It's fine." You look towards the back, pointing to a hallway. "Down there, there's a bathroom. Lock the door behind you and knock before you go in."

He looks a little angry when you say that, but gets up and sulks his way over to the hallway. At least he already knows basic manners, then.

You turn to Nina, a deep sigh escaping your lungs.

She snorts. "I can see you turning older from where you sit."

You kick her foot under the table. "I couldn't leave him. Can you check up on him when we get back to the Club? I don't imagine he'll want me poking around at him trying to find a wound that doesn't exist."

"Seeing as you bought me breakfast, I suppose I have to return the favor."

"Thank you." You grab her hand, the both of you squeezing. "I'm sorry for tricking you."

That makes her let out a belly laugh, a short "ha!" while her cheeks glow. "If your tricks always start out like this then you wont see me complaining. Besides," she looks towards the back of the diner, "he's a cutie. Wouldn't want him dropping dead anytime soon."

"I'm mostly just worried about how calm he is. I mean, would you be this fine with a stranger picking you off the street and taking you to get food?"

Nina sighs, giving your hand another light squeeze. "Im not sure he knows he should be afraid. Which is more of a curse than a blessing. He's what, six?"

"Probably? My oldest quess is seven, but with how small he is compared to how well-mannered he is he could be ten for all I know."

"He'll be fine. And so will you. Just take it as it comes as all the advice I can offer you. He's probably going through shock."

Leo slides back into the booth, hands slightly damp from what you hope is water and not urine. Somehow the food is already done within the short amount of time you order, and a waiter is sliding the dishes onto the table.

The omelet doesn't stand a chance in front of a young boy, and a quarter of it is nearly gone before the waiter leaves.

You spare a glance at Nina, who's looking at the rapidly disappearing slab of eggs with amazement."Well if he wasn't before he definitely is about to be."

-----

You tuck the kid into bed, freshly washed and with a clean set of clothes on his body. His hair was actually a much lighter shade of brown than you thought, and beneath all that grime rested a few freckles and an old scar.

Nina had checked him all over for any sort of injury, and found nothing besides a bit of high blood pressure, which wasn't surprising given he was absolutely starving.

A bit of food in him for the next few months should help tremendously, you think.

He just got done stuffing himself with some soup you made for you and the Crows, ignoring the fact that the Slat was filled to the brim with people who also wanted some. It was enough for them that you pointed to a box of recipes and some spare ingredients, cheers sounding throughout the building.

Kaz had took his and disappeared up to his room before you could say anything, still visibly irritated.

Nina thinks he's about six, which could be why he's relatively quick to trust.

"Are you sure he's not mad at me?" Leo asks, patting down a pillow you just sewed together and bring you out of your thoughts.

You squat by your bed, head in your hands. "Maybe," you sigh. "But it's not from anything you did. He just doesn't like to be mad at me so he's using it up on you."

"Thats not very kind."

You want to wrap this kid up tighter. "No, it's not." Instead you turn the lantern beside your bed down to a very low flame, creating a soft glow throughout the room. "But it's Kaz."

Leo takes that explanation like a champ, like he actually understands what that means, and let's his eyes fall shut.

You pick up the hot tea you made earlier, using your key to lock the door behind you as you make your way over to the attic.

Strangely, you feel anxious as you ascend the stairs. The tea shakes in your hands, rattling a little against the mismatched saucer plate. But you open his door and are met with the exact situation you predicted earlier, your shoulders relaxing.

"Tea will not stave my mood." He turns over a piece of paper, setting down an ink pen.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." You set the tea on his desk, avoiding the wells of the door. "I am simply offering a nice cup of tea for my nice boyfriend who is totally not about to shove his nice cane up my nice ass."

"The last place my cane will go is up your ass." He sets the page down, looking up at you. "That's incredibly unsanitary."

You root around on his desk, looking at the various papers he's marking and reading through. "And the blood isn't?

"Arguably easier to clean." He takes a packet out of your hand and replaces it with a different one. "Educate me as to why bringing a child into my club was a smart decision."

Immediately you deflate, falling back into a chair. You cringe when the wood digs into your bones.

Honestly, you already told him everything. He's small, food was available, you had space he could occupy, why not?

"I've already told you, Kaz. I had the ability, and I dont really see a reason why not. Why don't you educate me?"

He looks about ready to strangle something, exasperated sigh shoving it's way out of his lungs.

"What are you going to do on the ocassion he gets in the line of fire? How are you going to react if his parents find him? When they take him back? Can you say with absolute certainty that this child wont destroy you?" He stands with every question, looming over his desk with his hands splayed over the surface.

"Could you have said that about me when we got together?" You counter.

It's a rare thing, to see Kaz go quiet and contemplative.

You don't particularly enjoy it.

"I can't say that should any of those happen I won't be a little devastated. But is it really justifiable to push him out just because he has the potential to hurt me?" You stand too, the packet still in your hand. "As you said, he's my responsibility. When it comes to that, I'll take the fall. You don't have to be as worried as you are-"

"I do." He interrupts. "I do, because he's important to you. And unfortunately our moods and overall state of mind have an overwhelming effect on the other."

You take a moment to look at him, purple blotches under his eyes and his scars highlighted by angle of the light. He's exhausted, and it kind of hurts to realize some of that might have been your fault.

But you're not sorry.

"He thinks you hate him."

"I don't know enough about him to properly hate him."

You smile as he sits down, bringing the cup of tea with him. He's far more relaxed than before, and is just this side of tired that you see his eyelids begin to weigh down, a deep breath is all it takes for the tension to leave his brows completely as the warm beverage meets his mouth. You swear you hear him moan when he feels just how warm it still is.

"Thats what I told him, but I don't think he believes me."

"Suck to suck. Look at the packet."

It's rather thin, you realize, black string tying the pages together. On the front, which you skimmed and didn't really read earlier, it says "Tips for new Adoptees".

On the inside are various tables and notes Kaz seems to have scrounged together, his messy cursive completely filling the pages to the point you have trouble figuring out where a thought ends and another begins.

"Huh." Is all you say, chest heavy and feet scuffing the floor.

You dont... you don't know what to say. You're reading something about how much a child costs but you're not really taking it in. It's more than you could have ever imagined.

Kaz sets the tea down. "I imagine Leo isn't going to be the last. You know where the extra paper is."

He makes your heart so warm. It makes it hard to be annoyed at him for doubting you.

The stairs leading up to the attic creak, and immediately you and Kaz are on guard, your hand moving to your back where little daggers decorate your belt.

Leo's face pops into the room, and you immediately relax, an exasperated sigh exiting your lips. "Hey, Leo. What's going on?"

He inches into the room, hands tentatively still holding onto he door. "I feel bad about going to sleep in your bed. And I wanted to say sorry for doing what I did, Mr. Kaz."

Kaz quirks a brow. "And what is that?"

"Um..." Leo freezes, looking away. "I don't know."

Immediately you look at Kaz, raising your own brow. He gives you a look that you know would kill you if it could, and you smile.

"Leo, come here and meet Kaz." You wave him over, setting the packet aside.

He hesitates, making a move to walk into the room. But when his eyes land on Kaz, he stops.

"He doesnt bite." You try and crack a joke, and while he doesnt laugh, he does drop his shoulders and release the iron grip from the doors side.

Kaz stands and walks around the table, limp pronounced as usual without his cane as Leo closes the door and makes his way across the room.

They stare at eachother for a few moments, coming just a few feet apart behind your chair. You watch their eyes scan over the other, Leo eyeing Kaz's limp and little scars and Kaz inspecting Leo' clothes and the way his ear is slightly folded inwards.

Surprisingly, Kaz offers his gloved hand first, and Leo takes it almost instantly. You watch as they share a firm handshake, nodding at eachother.

"Please to make your anquaintance." There's a slight fumble to Leo's words, and it takes everything in your power to not interrupt their moment and correct him.

But Kaz just nods, releasing their hands. "Pleasure is all mine."

You smile, the little interaction forever cemented into your soul.

Leo definitely isn't going to be the last kid coming through here. Not when Kaz let's a smile pull at his lips just so, and makes a pen appear out of thin air for Leo to look at.

For now, however, this is enough.

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Tags:

@b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r @a-candle-maker @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @kylie18 @morrigan-crowmwell

#ask #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker fanfic #kaz brekker imagine #six of crows x reader #six of crows x y/n #six of crows x you #six of crows fanfic #six of crows imagine #grishaverse x you #grishaverse x reader #grishaverse x y/n #fanfic #imaginesfire

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taesanluv3r · 3 months

Text

in through the window

kim woonhak x reader

established relationship! reader breaks into woonhak's house <3 i think i wrote this idea years ago for a friend of mine but i'm not sure where tht fic went whoopsie (it's in the depths of my google drive somewhere) filled with silliness. a single cuss word lmao, lowercase intended, pls ignore any spelling mistakes/grammatical errors! enjoyy

wc: 2,008

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

"seriously...how do i have this many clothes and nothing to wear?!"

yn ln groans as loud as humanly possible as she slumps down onto the pile of clothes she had thrown shamelessly atop her bed. it was seven in the morning on a saturday and the girl had been up from five getting ready- or at least trying to- for her eight o' clock job interview. she wanted to look put together, being that the interview was for a gig as a writer for the local pop-culture magazine that she was quite the fan of. however, it seemed that the ten outfit choices she had come up with the night before, and the twenty more that she had tried on just a moment ago didn't go the way she envisioned it to.

now, laying on her back in just a sports bra and her pink pajama pants, the girl stares at her ceiling frustrated. 'if i have nothing to wear...and no time to buy anything new...whatever shall i do!' you know it's a big problem when yn ln's thoughts start rhyming. she sighs loudly as she picks herself up from the slump of tops and jeans that laid below her, turning her head around to glance at the heart-shaped alarm clock that stood on her bed-side table to make sure she wasn't running late or anything. in doing so, she spots the photo-strips that hung on the cork-board on her wall. the girl smiles at the four-cut style collage of herself and her boyfriend, posing all cutely with stupid animal head-bands. yn stops herself mid giggle, a brilliant- or at least she thinks it is- idea popping into her head.

"if i don't have anything to wear...surely woonhak does!"

the girl pats herself on the shoulder, thanking herself for coming up with such a stellar idea. and so, she grabs a sweater from the pile of clothes, stuffing all her things in her cream coloured tote bag and putting on her black mary-janes before running out the door. it doesn't take long for yn to get to her boyfriend's house, being that he, and coincidentally all of their friends, lived in the same neighbourhood as she did. the girl is excited. for one, she finally found a solution to her stress inducing problem, and two, she gets to see her boyfriend for a brief moment before she was off to her interview. however, there seemed to be a flaw in her plan. it seemed that the girl completely forgot that no one in their right mind would ever willingly be awake this early on a weekend, especially her beloved kim woonhak; how could that slip her mind?

yn sighs, staring up at the quiet kim household. she didn't dare to ring the doorbell, not wanting to disturb the poor family that were probably getting their well-deserved rest at the moment. she's about to give up, disappointed as she turns on her heels to walk back to her own home. a breeze flew through her hair in the process, a breeze that lead her to another one of her spectacular ideas.

"okay...it should be over...aha!" the young girl whispers to herself, eyes lighting up as she spotted the old and rusty ladder she knew they kept in their backyard. menacingly, and as quietly as she could, the girl props the ladder up, aiming it to end directly at his room's window. yn snickers a little bit, feeling kind of evil in the moment, before beginning to climb up the not-so-stable steps. once she gets to the top, she carefully presses a hand against the glass of the window, trying her luck and seeing if the sleeping boy inside was stupid enough to leave it unlocked for the night. the girl gasps when the glass slides, the cool air-conditioning of his room hitting the tip of her nose, threatening to make her sneeze. she holds it in though, making the opening bigger for her to make an entrance.

letting out the breath she was apparently holding in this whole time, yn carefully closes the window behind her. her eyes move to scan her surroundings, giggling quietly as she looks over at her slumberous boyfriend, all sprawled out on his bed, his long legs peeking through his weighted blanket. cute, she thought. yn drops her bag on the floor near his bed, stretching her body out like she was just about to start a gym session before she fully turned to face his closet. a wide grin makes its way over to her lips, her eyes growing big at the large collection of pretty clothes he had tidily hung up in the cupboard. her hand grazed softly against the different textures of each piece, skimming through everything to find the perfect outfit. she grabs a couple articles of clothing she thought would work well together and puts them to the side, not caring to look or be careful when she shuts the closet door, accidentally making the loud noise she had been trying to avoid this entire time.

"WHO'S THERE?!" (the boynextdoor! haha sorry i had to)

yn freezes, trying her best not to laugh as her sleepy boyfriend rose from where he was lying on the bed. his hair a nest-like mess on his head, his eyes barely opened, and his fingers in a gun shape pointing towards her direction. "what...YN?!" woonhak's eyes get big, his eyebrows knitted together at the surprising sight of his girlfriend. "morning, woonhak" she says, a smile that reached her eyes painted over her complexion. "what are you doing here? it's seven in the morning, yn. how did you even get in here...DID YOU BREAK INTO MY HOUSE FROM MY WINDOW?!" the girl winced, the sound of his voice way too loud for the time. "mhm! i have nothing to wear for my interview...so..." she replied in a tone so nonchalant, as if her actions weren't somewhat criminal. the boy sighed in disbelief, watching as his girlfriend began to take his clothes off of their hangers. "couldn't you have like- i don't know, called me? or knocked at least? i thought you were a robber!" his distress made her laugh, "you know..." she began, hands on her hips as she faced him.

"you should probably start locking the window when you sleep...in case of robbers!"

the kim boy couldn't even come up with a response, far too tired to have to deal with his girlfriend's silly antics this early in the morning. unbothered, yn begins to remove the pajamas she had on. she catches his gaze from the corner of her eye, turning her head rapidly in his direction with furrowed brows. "close your eyes, perv, i'm gonna change!" he rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he lazily pressed the palm of his hand over his eyelids. "why do you feel the need to borrow my clothes again?" woonhak asks, his words slightly muffled as he let out a yawn. "because i have nothing to wear and your clothes are better than mine" she states and he scoffs, "you know...with your slight over-shopping issues you'd think you- ow!" the hand covering his eyes move to rub the side of his head she had just struck with her sweater.

"thoughts? does it scream star magazine number one article writer?" the boy didn't respond, his mouth slightly agape as his eyes scanned the girl that stood before him. yn had her hands on her hips, her lips puckering out of habit as she awaited an answer from him. woonhak's pale blue jeans fit a little baggier on her, his white shirt and his red knitted vest hugging her figure in ways he could not describe. her hair was freshly washed and laid untouched against her shoulders, the usual make-up look she did complementing her features just the right way to enhance them. the boy didn't understand it at all. how could someone be so beautiful without even trying so hard?

"hello~ kim woonhak? i asked you a question, babe, answer please!" her voice shakes him out of his trance, "huh? oh! you look pretty...you always look pretty" his voice quiets down coming to the end of his compliment, a blush taking over the girl's cheeks and a giggle escaping her lips. "yay!" yn cheered, taking a few steps forward before tackling her boyfriend down on his bed. "oh my god...okay, babe, it's too early for this" woonhak whined in annoyance when she began to pepper light kisses all over his face. she stopped for a moment, looking down at him with a big pout. "do you not love me?" he rolls his eyes at her baby-like tone and his frustration makes her smile. "my woonhak! you're so cute" she squeals, grabbing his arms and using all her strength to prop him back up to sitting position. she stretched her arms out, inviting him into a hug that he- though his face didn't show it- gladly accepted. she draws imaginary paintings on the small of his back, breathing in the scent of his hair the same way he did the smell of her perfume.

"babe?" woonhak asks with his head still incased between her shoulder and neck, earning a hum in response. "don't you have an interview to go to?" his inquiry makes the girl widen her eyes, snapping her head around to check the time. "fuck! okay i gotta go" yn pushes him off of her, tumbling slightly as she hopped off of the bed to grab her things from the floor. the boy laughs, watching as his girlfriend checked frantically to make sure she had everything she needed. she lets out a breath, but the stress left her body momentarily as she catches a glimpse of herself in his full-length mirror. "wait..i look so cute" she says, smiling at her own reflection as she pulled her phone out to take a mirror selfie. a shiver runs down her back as two long arms wrap around her from behind. she catches his cheeky smirk from the mirror, rolling her eyes as he dips his face into her shoulder. the girl's finger taps lightly against the white circle on her screen, capturing the sweet moment to be saved forever.

"okay, i have to go before i miss the bus, i'll see you later, woonhak" the boy nods along to her words, pulling her into one last hug before giving her a loving kiss, the gloss on her lips staining his own ones pink. "see you later, babe. good luck!" he says, following her to his window that she was beginning to slide open. "careful..." he warned, holding onto one of her hands as she climbed out, watching closely as her feet shakily landed on the first few steps of the ladder. and he continued to watch, making sure she had safely made it back onto the grass of his back-yard. yn rubs her hands together, getting rid of the dust from the ladder. she looks up, smiling brightly at woonhak who stuck his head out from the window. "bye! love you! thank you for providing me with your clothes this fine morning!" she yells out, waving her hands at him. he rolls his eyes for the hundredth time, waving back at her.

"be safe, yn. good luck at the interview!" the boy says, earning a nod in response. "and i expect to have those clothes back in my closet by the end of the day...please" the last bit of his request sounded a bit more like he was begging. the girl laughs out loud, not giving him a proper answer before turning to walk away. "BYE WOONHAK! love youuu~" yn ln calls out a final time, skipping away so that she wouldn't miss the bus. kim woonhak shakes his head, laughing to himself as his girlfriend disappears into the distance. before he retreats back into his bed, the boy says with his voice no louder than a whisper...

"i love you too, yn"

the end.

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖

this was so silly 😓 F in the chat for woonhak getting woken up by his own gf breaking into his house TT anyways hope u enjoyed, feedbacks n reblogs r greatly appreciated!! love, kona.

#kona's work ♡#boynextdoor #boynextdoor drabbles #boynextdoor imagines #boynextdoor x reader #woonhak #woonhak x reader #boynextdoor woonhak #bnd x reader #bnd woonhak #kim woonhak

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httpknjoon · 1 year

Text

(re)starting over again | kth; 10.5

plot | Your four-year relationship with Taehyung was going well and strong. Until he was involved in a car accident, resulting to him losing some memories. By some, it means everything that happened five years ago. Things he remember? His friends, his bakeshop, and his ex girlfriend from the past. With that, you tried to keep up, restarting over again.

words | 3.5k

genres | fluff, angst, amnesia au

pairing | taehyung x reader

warning/s | -

note | more angst haha I swear rainbows and sunshine are coming soon. icymi, I made a spotify playlist for this series! it gets updated every time I write for mc and taehyung. expect it to be angsty haha! anyways, enjoy reading this one. let me know y'all's thoughts.

main masterlist | series masterlist

“Are you sure about this?”

Gail, your supervisor, looked at you while holding the paper you gave her just minutes ago. Your heart beats heavier and louder as you stood in front of her. Gail was never a terrifying supervisor to you. She was always considerate. But this thing that you’re doing right now is still nail-biting. You came to work early today just so you can talk to her. No one knew about your plan except you.

“Yes,” you replied, unconsciously fiddling with the fabric of your scrub pants.

She stared at you for what felt like a minute. You cannot even read what’s going on in her head. Her eyes wore no emotions and her lips formed a thin line. She moved her sight to the paper again. You felt like you needed to say something.

You cleared your throat, “I’m sorry if it seemed too soon.”

“Oh, it’s fine. We all know two weeks is the minimum time for notices like this.” Finally, her lips broke into a small smile, easing you for a little, as she looks at you again. “May I ask your reason for making this decision?”

You didn’t hesitate on telling your true reason, “I need to take a break and a new environment due to recent circumstances.”

That was two days ago. Gail approved your resignation letter after that exchange and was supportive of your decision. She said you can come to her anytime if you need a recommendation letter for your next employer. Your two-week notice began that same day without anyone– even Jisoo or Julia– knowing. You don’t want to disturb Jisoo because she’s already stressed enough with her wedding.

“You coming home?” Julia asked as you two get your bags on your lockers.

You two just finished your graveyard shift at seven o clock. You just had a twelve-hour shift but you’re still off to somewhere.

You shook your head, “Not yet. I’m taking a train to Incheon.”

Her head tilted in your direction, “What? Why? That’s like an hour's ride from here.”

“I’ll be checking this studio apartment unit I saw online,” you answered like it’s not a big deal.

Her eyes widened almost instantly, “You’re moving?!”

You quietly nod your head to her surprised question. A hint of excitement was also obvious in her tone.

“That’s far! Have you told Jisoo yet?”

“Nope.”

“How about Taehyung? Is he going to travel from there to his shop every day? And the house–”

“I still haven’t talked to him about it.” you cut her off calmly before she can ask anything else.

Julia was quick to understand what you meant. Your lips formed into a small, sad smile after saying that. Julia just waved her hand back when you waved yours as you bid goodbye. She instantly knew that moving to a new place isn’t the only life-changing choice you’re making in your life right now.

It was a couple of days before Jisoo and Namjoon’s special day, exactly three days in your two-week notice. Raindrops just happened to visit every night you have a late night shift. You didn’t notice the weather until you heard the roars of thunder while you were in the shower.

You were busy the whole day in your room. Just cleaning up, feeling like a robot, numbly working so much but eating less. You only had a late breakfast. Taehyung made you buttermilk waffles with fruits, leaving it in a Tupperware on your kitchen counter. You ate and made sure to leave no dishes in the sink. Like a ghost, that’s how you liked to describe your recent presence in your shared home.

You find yourself busy since morning, removing photos in the frames you displayed before and folding some of your clothes from your closet to your luggage. Then, you prepared for your eight-hour shift. Just five minutes past ten in the evening, you walked out of your room ready to go.

“Hey.”

You saw Taehyung sitting on one of the chairs on your kitchen counter. A thin sheet of smoke from the cup on the table showed he was drinking tea.

“Hi.” you greeted him shortly.

The shorter your response is, the smaller the chances of small talk, you thought.

“I packed you some light snacks there. Just some granola and fruits. Also, yogurt.”

You want to feel something. The joy and giddiness you always have when Taehyung does nice things for you, pre and post-accident. Something that will make your day and shifts your mood. But you almost felt nothing now.

“It’s raining hard tonight,” he mumbled, looking outside the small window in your kitchen.

“It is.”

You tried to busy yourself with putting the snacks he prepared in your bag, not even looking up at him. Not until he said,

“Can I walk you to the stop?”

Finally, you looked at him. He cannot assume if you’re surprised based on your expression because your face remained blank. No emotions at all.

He continued, ”I just want to make sure you’ll get to work safely.”

“Okay.” Whatever you say.

“You know, you don’t have to do any of this.” You were just looking ahead as you resumed, “You’re not obligated to do anything with me.”

“I wanted to do this.” He replied.

You knew he was looking in your direction through your peripheral vision. As much as you wanted to believe his sincerity, you don’t want to get your hopes high. He was just being nice. That’s it.

Before you go, he handed you another extra umbrella. No one said a single word. You sat away from the windows, just at the back of the bus. Because you knew damn well that you might feel guilty if you see Taehyung frozen on the same spot, waiting for your bus to leave.

“Wake her up. I’ll take out our stuff.”

Jimin unfastened his seatbelt after parking the car. Taehyung turned his head back to your direction. You have been sleeping throughout the whole night and none of them bothered to wake you up when they had a quick stopover since they knew you came from an overnight shift earlier. He got off his seat, gently closing the passenger door.

“YN….” he softly calls for your name.

It took him two more calls before you hummed and moved on to your seat. Your eyes were still closed as you respond to him, still half-asleep,

“What?”

“We’re here…”

Slowly, your eyes opened. You blink a couple times before rubbing your eyes as you sat back properly. Slightly confused, you looked around. He watched as you slowly get back to your senses and realize that you have arrive at the event venue.

“Oh…” you said under your breath. You ran your hand on your dress to smoothen out the tiny wrinkles. Unexpectedly, you turned to Taehyung, “How do I look? Did my hair–”

“Lovely,” he murmured.

For a moment there, you thought you heard a small beat inside your chest. You stare at each other’s eyes and the first thing you sense was familiarity. Then, longing. Then, abruptly, you looked away. Taehyung wasn’t sure if your eyes began glistening before you blinked away. He was about to ask when Jimin spoke outside the car,

“Is she awake? Let’s go. The rehearsal is starting soon, we still have to get these bags in the hotel.”

Thank God, you found a slight relief. Taehyung moved out of your way to let you get out of the car. Minutes later, you, Taehyung, and Jimin are walking to the entrance of the hotel when someone greeted you.

“Oh, my god. Hi!”

Yoonji, Jisoo’s cousin and also one of the bridesmaids, greeted you on your way into the small hotel meant for guests. He recognized her as one of the girls who brought you home after Jisoo’s bachelorette party. You two hugged for a quick second while she smiled politely at Taehyung and Jimin, who introduced himself.

“You can just go tell the receptionist your names. Then, they will say what’s your room number,” she instructed in a little hurry. “The rehearsal will be starting in a few minutes!”

She was pulled by another woman, who you assume is Jisoo’s other relative. You followed what she said and the receptionist was pleasant when she asked for your names. After that, she handed out two keys.

“Room 23 is for Mr. Park. Room 27 is for Ms. YN and Mr. Kim.” Kath, the said receptionist, said.

Your jaw almost dropped while Taehyung froze. Jimin, who stood between you two, immediately noticed your silent reactions. He took the initiative to ask,

“Uhm… May we request another room?”

Kath shook her head, “I’m sorry, sir. But the Kims were the ones who arranged everyone’s rooms.”

You cleared your throat as your brain began processing again, “But do you guys have other available rooms that we can pay for?”

“We’re currently fully booked, miss. We assume the Kims already booked enough rooms for their relatives and other important guests. So we had our further rooms booked for other visiting guests in town.”

After squeezing your eyes shut while listening to her explanation, you just forced a smile, “Okay, we understand. Thank you.”

Your rooms were on the upper floor and there were only stairs. Taehyung offered to carry your small luggage for you but you declined. Both men could not tell if you were pissed as you kept a straight face until you and Taehyung stood in front of the twenty-seventh room. He unlocked the door for you two.

“Hm.”

You unconsciously let out a heavy sigh as you and Taehyung scanned the whole room with your eyes. The room was not that… spacious. But it has what a guest needs. A king-sized bed, closet, own bathroom, a table and a chair, and flat-screen television mounted on the wall for entertainment. Plus, a big window with big curtains.

“You know, maybe I can just go to Jimin’s,” Taehyung, who’s standing behind you, suggested.

But you looked at him, “Do you want to?”

“What?” he blinked, maybe he misheard it.

“Do you want to go there? I mean, this is a king-sized bed. I’m fine sharing it, less hassle. We can put a divider or something.” you recommended, pointing to the bed.

“Are you okay with that?”

You nod, “Yeah. Are you?”

“Okay.” Taehyungs nods too.

“Okay,” you whispered.

It was silent again after that. The atmosphere was weird and maybe suffocating. You are starting to hate this kind of air every time you’re with him. It’s encouraging the decisions you’ve been thinking about lately. Breaking the ice, you looked up at him.

“Uhm, we should go. The rehearsal’s starting soon.”

“Thank you for helping make tomorrow the perfect day for us.”

The wedding rehearsals earlier were quick as it was not that complicated. Everyone was later invited to the rehearsal dinner. Your seats were pre-arranged. So of course, you two sat next to each other.

Jisoo was in the middle of her dinner toast when Taehyung took a glance at you. Your sights were focused on the couple who stood in the middle of the event. Your lips formed into a relieved smile as your eyes brighten.

"Tonight, we appreciate you, the people we treasure the most. We toast to having the best wedding team ever!"

Everyone raised their glasses of wine and champagne and took a sip from their drinks. Then, everyone began talking to someone while enjoying the rest of the dinner. Everyone around you and Taehyung is having fun conversations. Even Jimin, who is now talking to some guests. After stealing another glance in your direction, he thought of making a conversation with you.

“I’ve never seen Namjoon that happy,” he mumbled as he looked at his friend.

Unexpectedly, you responded, looking at the couple, “So is Jisoo. Look at their smiles.”

“How did they meet?” he asked.

“Oh, it’s a really good meet-cute.” you chuckled, shoulders visibly relaxing.

Then, you began talking about the beginning of your friends’ love story. You were proud as you shared that you were present when they first met. And after days of getting blank stares and rejections from you, Taehyung can see a genuine smile on your face again. He can listen to more of your stories if that is what it takes for you two to be okay again.

The conversation plays out until you and Taehyung decided to get out of the event since guests began going too. From Jisoo and Namjoon’s meet-cute, the topic jumped to how you had a couple of double dates with them. You were enjoying telling stories that you almost forgot about that gloomy feeling you’d been having in you for days now until Taehyung asked another question while you two stroll your way back to your shared room.

“Maybe we could do that again with them?”

You turned your head at him, raising an eyebrow, “What?”

“Double dates. It seemed like we had fun with them,” he replied, hands in his pockets as he smiled softly.

Then, once again, these heavyweights slowly landed on your shoulders and you can feel something breaking inside of you, making you clutch your palm on the skirt of your dress. Taehyung quicking took notice of you pausing and looking at him with lips slightly parted and the joy in your eyes faded, worrying him.

“Hey? You okay?” he asked gently, looking at you.

With that, you snapped out of your trance and nods, “Yeah, sorry.”

God! Get ahold of yourself. You remind yourself. You remembered your things packed back at home and the resignation you signed days ago. You already had a plan and this sudden idea from Taehyung should not change any of it. Unconsciously, you let out a sigh. Taehyung’s heart beats faster.

“Did I say anything wrong?

“Oh, no.” you forced a smile as you took steps with him to the stairs. You let out an awkward chuckle, “I just don’t think we can do double dates anytime soon.”

“Ah, yeah.” he went along.

And it’s silent all over again. But this time, there was this air between you two. You both can feel that someone wants to say something to another. But, both of you two can’t. With every step closer to your room, the air gets thinner and thinner. And when you stood outside your door,

It shattered.

“Can we talk?”

“Can I talk to you?”

Both you and Taehyung said at the same time. You two were staring at each other when you said that. And when you two realized what happened, you looked away with an airy chuckle. You opened the door and he followed inside.

“So… are we going to talk here or outside?” Taehyung spoke when he saw you opening the curtains, letting the fresh air get into the room.

“Uhm, here’s fine,” you replied before inhaling again on the small balcony.

The original plan was to let Taehyung know about your plans after this event. But you just can’t keep it anymore. Especially after you reacted with Taehyung offering ideas like double date again. Taehyung wanted to wait too and he was willing. But he felt he needed to say what he wants now. It might help your relationship at the moment.

“Okay,” you whispered.

You sat on the soft mattress of the bed. Taehyung took a seat on the chair next to the table, just a few feet away from you. He watched as you bit your lip, looking down. You fiddled with your fingers and he can see your chest heave. You were visibly nervous and it makes him wonder what are going to say.

“YN–”

“Can–”

He nods at you to continue and you did, “I was just going to ask if I can go first.”

“Sure,” he answered, leaning back in the chair.

“Okay. Thank you,” you said every word with the heaviest sigh since you find your heart pounding like crazy just now.

With all the will in your body, you focused your sight on the man in front of you. His hair was pushed back and the first two buttons of his shirt are unbuttoned. His eyes gaze back at yours, you wished you can just communicate with him through this since it might be easier. But you can’t. And within seconds, you can feel the tears at the edge of your blurring sight.

“Taehyung…I… Uhm…” you stuttered when you see a flicker of concern in his eyes. But you continued, “I’m leaving.”

He just stared after you said that. Then, you read the confusion on his face, “What?”

You gulped, “I’m leaving this… arrangement … or whatever this is called. Us. I’m leaving us.”

Your hands shake while waiting for a reaction from him when you said that. But you cannot read his face anymore so you went on.

“I’m moving out of the house. I already looked for an apartment. I know, the house is our shared property. We can talk about the whole splitting thing when I–”

“Are we breaking up?” Taehyung finally said something. His eyebrows were scrunched and his eyes were surprised. But his tone was in between shock and sadness. And maybe mad. You cannot tell.

“Is there even any relationship to break?”

That was the first thing that came into your mind and you barely thought about it as you said it. You matched his tone. Now, it feels like you two were overwhelmed with emotions and the silence that followed after your question helped to at least make you calm a little.

Taehyung, on the other hand, is not off his peak of emotions. But he was quiet. He doesn’t know what to feel. He cannot tell what he’s been feeling. Even after what happened these past few days, he didn’t expect to hear this from you.

“You don’t know me, Taehyung. I’m basically a stranger to you and I’m more than grateful to you for at least letting me take care of you after the accident. But it’s not your obligation to be with me just because I was your girlfriend. The last thing that I want is to force you to stay committed–”

You were ready to end the conversation just like that. But Taehyung cut you off,

“What if I want to? What if I want to be with you now?”

“What?”

You didn’t sound happy. Because you’re not. Taehyung sensed it, you felt quite the opposite when he said that. Still, you stumbled with words.

“Wh– No! N-No, you don’t.”

“I do,” he said like you were challenging him to say it.

You remained unhappy and let out a firm, “No.”

“I do. Why do you keep–”

“Because that would just make me feel shit! You only want me now because you learned what happened between you and Lily!”

Taehyung’s mouth immediately ran dry. For the first time ever since the accident, you raised your voice at him. It’s like watching a volcano explode. Warm drops of tears flow down your cheeks. Your lips were quivering as you continued. Your shoulder shakes as you continued,

“You can’t just choose me like that! That’s fucking unfair! I– I’ve been feeling nothing but awful and lonely for the longest time. I can’t even sleep without having a nightmare about that night! And now that I’m trying to do something for myself, you’re telling me you want to be with me? Right after talking to your ex behind my back? The ex that you originally remembered as your girlfriend? Taehyung, that’s just so fucking unfair.”

You remained seated on the bed but your hand was clutching on the sheet under you. Your voice became weaker as you reached the last sentence. Wiping your tears, you cleared your throat,

“If you want me now, that would make me feel like someone you just kept around as a second choice. You know?”

Hearing that, Taehyung instinctively shakes his head, “No, it’s not like that–”

“But that’s how I feel right now,” you confessed in a sad whisper. “And I’m scared that the longer I try to keep this relationship, the higher the chance I’ll lose myself in the process.”

That was another confession. After countless talks and reflection with yourself and your close friends, you knew that sooner or later you have to go for your own. It just took you long to accept it and take a step. You were hopeful then.

It took some minutes for someone to say something again. There was like a big question in the room with you, asking, what’s next. Taehyung who remained speechless in the same chair, just watched you quietly. While you got up from the bed and reached for your phone and room keys.

“Five years was a lot to be missed and forgotten, Taehyung. I just think that if we go on our separate ways, you can focus on exploring what you lost without the pressure of being committed to me. And I can try to focus on myself again.”

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RESTARTING OVER AGAIN TAGLIST [🔧🔨 ]

@iamkookiesforyou @aianloveseven @hoodalmighty @taebangtanbabe @kthsmoon @nooojaaam @hiimnothing @hiqhkey

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@dunixxd @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @imajinthis @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild1 @laylasbunbunny @nikkiordonez12

#bts angst #bts x reader #bts series #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #taehyung x reader #taehyung au #taehyung series #bts amnesia #taehyung amnesia #bts established relationship au #taehyung established relationship #restarting over again kth

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darklyndivinely · 3 months

Text

I punctured the abscess through abandonment

Fandom - Obey Me!

Pairing - Lucifer x Diavolo

Summary - "Diavolo raises his hand, hesitates, and then cups Lucifer’s jaw. Lucifer allows himself to lean into the touch, for his eyes to slip close; to savour it, this last time."

Warnings - SEXUAL CONTENT, ANGST, fluff, copious amounts of random shit.

Wordcount - 5k+

A/N - title from the english translation of this song. I've been working on this for ages. Dialuci is so exciting to me, the angst potential is endless. I hope it comes through here, because it's important to remember: for Lucifer, his family is above all, even his own happiness. Please do comment and tell me what y'all thought!!

Here's a beautiful rendition of the last scene done by @pseudonymphomania.

Read on AO3 • OM!Masterlist • Leave a tip! • Lucifer! Masterlist

It’s one of those days.

Black rain pours over Devildom. The sky, a churning thing of anger, had cracked open yesterday as he had succumbed to sleep. Some fourteen hours later, it was still in mourning.

Lucifer doesn’t mind.

Such forceful displays of nature, he’s found, cast a film of translucent languor over everything. His mind which is usually stretched thin with a million worries folds upon itself, over and over, until it occupies but a little square of space. All that exists then is the stubborn rain, the wailing of trees as they bow to the angry winds, and the soft ticks of his table clock.

Lucifer presses his forehead to the chilled glass of one of the windows. In and out, he breathes, his eyes shut and mind blank. A repose of quietude. He savours it, trying to document all the ridges of the calmness in his body, knowing that when it leaves, its departure will be long and hard to bear.

There’s a council meeting scheduled at four. He departs for it slowly, knowing that it won’t start till four twenty because tardiness is a vicious illness that his brothers have never been able to defeat. True to form, the last to arrive, Satan and Asmo, twelve minutes late, cite some ineludible mishap in the library. For a second Lucifer considers chiding them, becoming caught up in old habits, before reason returns and he puts halt to the achingly familiar words halfway up his throat. He knows if they escape today the sanctity of this beautiful day would become lost to him. So he gulps down a glass of cold water instead and lets it go.

“Where’s Mammon?” asks Asmo as he settles, eyes drawn to the only vacant seat now.

Mammon hadn’t been present for breakfast either. Lucifer had assumed he’d been summoned by his witches again. “He’ll be caught up. Let us begin now.”

For the next two hours, they discuss the many matters of importance around RAD. Vacant staff positions, complaints against faculty members, how to budget the million year-round events without compromising quality, and ideas for new events as well. Around the ninety-minute mark, the agenda gets lost somewhere within the frothing depths of the river Styx.

Between “A food contest where the winner cooks for me for the rest of their life,” and, “A fashion show where everyone writes a five-hundred word essay about my beauty and throws bouquets of pretty—” and Leviathan’s separate ongoing detailed verbal presentation about the cultural significance of some film adaptation of a novel that he believes all of RAD should come together and watch, Lucifer finds himself feeling some deep, ancient rot taking hold of his brain.

Diavolo’s well of patience, as it turns out, is infinite. His countenance is kind and sympathetic.

Lucifer’s is not.

He ends the meeting, his fist bunched around an eraser, barely holding himself back from lobbing it straight down Leviathan’s throat, and sends them all packing.

“Back by 11,” he says, easing back in his chair, “or Cerberus has free reign of your room.”

Diavolo chuckles beside him, refreshing their glasses with water. An easy smile slides onto his lips as the room empties. “Barbatos called,” he says, waving the doors shut with a flick of the wrist.

Lucifer hums, wiping the condensation off his glass and presses it to his temple, some of this morning’s calmness returning to him. “Contracts?”

“No, not yet. He’s happened upon Mammon’s witches. They run a bar in a nearby town that daylights as their hideout. Wonderful spot apparently; excellent mingling of the ley lines.”

“Was he there?”

Diavolo takes a sip of his water, shaking his head. “At a bar, five blocks over. Drunk as a fiddle.”

“Naturally.” Lucifer sighs, feeling the sudden urge to bang his head against a solid surface, preferably the sturdy pine table beneath him. “I apologise for his behaviour. Is Barbatos to return then?”

Diavolo’s lips quirk in a half-smirk, one Lucifer has learned follows a particularly amusing thought. “No. He insisted on staying to keep an eye out. He’ll ring in when Mammon departs for home.”

“Good,” he replies. “I will look over today’s notes and we’ll discuss them tomorrow.”

Diavolo nods, a sudden shine to his supermoon eyes. “Tomorrow then. Have a good night, Lucifer.”

Lucifer tips his head and says, “Goodnight, Diavolo.”

Mammon returns at half-past three that night, slipping through the garage doors straight into his room. Lucifer snaps his novel shut, does a last check on the barrier, and clocks out.

He’s awoken the next morning by a great racket of noise. He’s barely pulled his other pillow over his ears, the fear that the lot may have started a fire in the stove again being swept under the heaviness of slipping dreams, before there is a strong panicked rapping against his door and his sleep takes departure like a startled flock of ravens. He presses a prolonged expletive into his pillowcase and gets up.

Turns out, he’d missed breakfast. And when Asmo had gone to store the leftovers he’d discovered that the fridge wasn’t cooling anymore. Of course, in true menace behaviour, he’d complained about it loudly first before waking Lucifer up. So now Lucifer’s got a panicked Beel on his hands who is now worried for his recently bought cupcakes.

“They’re Madam Scream’s’, Lucifer! Poisoned hellberries and roasted creme! They won’t last two hours in this humidity. You have to do something!”

Lucifer pinches the bridge of his nose and sends the younger to heat all the leftovers in the oven. Is that working or does that also need a mass panic? Then he heads to his room for his phone and makes a call to Electric Demon, scheduling a home visit within the next hour. A shower sounds tempting but the food would go cold again, and Lucifer is a firm believer that heating leftovers more than once is a crime against one’s taste buds. He does his morning routine sans a shower and changes into a plain blue t-shirt and track pants.

Beel doesn’t seem sufficiently satisfied when Lucifer tells him that a technician is on his way. He stands awkwardly by the fridge in the kitchen, a cupcake box in hand and a frown on his face. Lucifer watches him from the dining table for a while, then, fed up, says, “Just open it already!”

Beel startles, turning to look at him. “Are you sure—”

“Yes! Open it or I’ll open it for you!”

Beel’s frown deepens. But he comes to sit at the dining table and begins to bite into his cupcakes with a focus that is perhaps a bit too much than the task demands. It’s all kind of adorable though and it eases a bit of Lucifer’s annoyance at the day’s bad start.

“Did Mammon come down for breakfast today?”

Beel shakes his head. He looks up suddenly, mouth full, his tangerine eyes fixing on Lucifer’s as if he’d been caught doing something naughty. Then looking as if in extreme pain, he slides the cupcake box towards Lucifer.

Lucifer chuckles and considers pretending to pluck one just for the fun of it all. He would have any other day, but he doesn’t. Not today. He slides the box back with a polite decline. Beel passes him a smile and digs into his food with more fervour. Lucifer resists the urge to ruffle his hair and leaves him to his sweets.

In the kitchen, Lucifer plates all the leftover food and casts a mild heating spell upon it. He takes it upstairs to Mammon’s room. It’s messy as always: clothes flung around, shoes discarded at the bottom of the staircase. Lucifer leaves the plate on the centre table. Mammon is sprawled on the bed in his briefs, his jeans a dark tangle on the floor. Beside it, there’s a half-empty pack of cigarettes. Lucifer toes at it, grimacing, knowing without a look that it’s one of those cheap, low-quality soft-packs. Standards were truly becoming non-existent nowadays.

The doorbell rings downstairs.

“Lucifer!” Beel shouts.

He sighs. I’ll check in later, he vows, heading off.

Later, however, doesn’t roll around until late that evening. Diavolo calls him up after the technician leaves.

“When are you coming over?” the prince says, straight to the point.

Lucifer considers his options. He could postpone, spend a lazy Sunday in the library and practise a tune or two at the piano. There’d be stacks of papers on his table tomorrow anyway, they’ll stay late at RAD and squeezing in their discussion wouldn’t be too big a hassle. However, it’s a nice day off and the prospect of being holed up in the library doesn’t seem so appealing anymore. He would much rather chase a pair of golden eyes.

“Soon,” Lucifer says.

“I just got a great idea for Barbatos’ gift,” Diavolo says the second Lucifer is within his sight. The prince is clad in a tight black t-shirt and loose grey pyjama with a pot of tea in his hands. Lucifer hums and takes a seat at the dining table, setting the file he’d brought over at the corner. Diavolo pours the tea into two cups. A subtle earthy smell wafts up in the steam. Fireweed, Lucifer recognizes. One of Barbatos’ own creations. He’d probably left a bunch of it behind for Diavolo to peruse.

“How many cups of this are you drinking a day?” Lucifer asks, taking a sip.

Diavolo’s forehead scrunches with a whine and he slumps into his seat. “Too much! I’m afraid I might be addicted at this point.”

Lucifer smiles around his cup. Trust Diavolo to become addicted to tea. “What is this idea then?”

The prince perks up and sets his cup down neatly. He takes out a small, brown drawstring pouch from his pocket. “Do you remember Ring 3’s Great Purge?”

Lucifer nods. “Yes. Nearly a million casualties.”

“Yes, that. There was a witch then, injured and hanging onto life in the Abyss by a single tree branch. I saved her and in return she gave me this pouch. Rare seeds of a flower that grows beneath the deep depths of the seas, she’d said.”

Diavolo spills the seeds onto his palms. Brown and dry. Entirely unremarkable.

“They might grow here,” he says, rifling the seeds gently with a finger. “And if not then perhaps they might blossom in the greenhouse, in a more controlled environment.”

“The Abyss is quite far away from the stadium. What was she doing there?”

“She wasn’t there for the tournament. She’d snuck in.” Diavolo pours the seeds back into the pouch and draws it shut. “Her niece had married a vampire from Ring 3 and was being abused. She wanted to rescue her. A very messy business, really.”

“Did she succeed?”

“He was rich, she was not. But yes. After a long court case. I delivered the judgement myself.”

Lucifer watches him, sipping at his tea. “It is a good gift, indeed.”

Diavolo smiles at him, a soft steady thing that makes Lucifer’s chest tighten. “What about you? What are you giving him?”

“I do not know.” Lucifer hadn’t even thought of it yet. “Any suggestions?”

Diavolo looks thoughtful, sipping solemnly at his tea. “Music, perhaps. He’s been in a slump lately. I haven’t seen him with headphones in a while.”

Lucifer hums. “Has he found the man yet?”

“Yesterday. But he’s demanded a day to think it over.”

“I highly doubt he’d be willing to forfeit his life when the alternative is so beneficial.”

“Beneficial!” Diavolo laughs sharply. “I plan to wring him dry to the bones.”

Lucifer smirks. “I would hope so.”

Diavolo eyes the file Lucifer had brought over. He stretches a hand to slide it closer and flips it open. “What have you decided?”

“Art and Psychology clubs,” Lucifer says. “Negligible dent in the budget.”

“A new hire?” Diavolo reads off the file.

“Part-time, but someone passionate and willing. I was hoping the Art club might focus more on polishing rather than teaching.”

“Hmm.” Diavolo closes the file and stands. “I will read it later. Are you perhaps done with that?” he asks, eyeing Lucifer’s cup. “I’m all stiff from sitting here.”

Lucifer gulps down the last of his cold tea and follows suit. He collects their cups and the pot, sets them in the sink and washes his hands. When he turns Diavolo is halfway across the kitchen, and he gestures at Lucifer to follow.

Diavolo’s room is halfway across the castle, obscured by the many turns into many indistinguishable hallways leading to it. The prince walks five steps ahead of him. Lucifer doesn’t bother to catch up. The length of the journey seems entirely too short for the view his position grants him. Then another turn and the sight of the familiar room.

The moment Lucifer has crossed the threshold, Diavolo is on him. There are two soft clicks behind him. A sudden arm around his waist and a pair of beautiful golden eyes. Diavolo presses him backwards into the now-closed door and melds their mouths together.

“I missed you,” Diavolo whispers against his lips.

Lucifer tightens his grip around Diavolo’s nape, the tightness in his chest dissolving in a sudden surge, and pulls the man into a feverish, bruising kiss. Diavolo moans into his mouth, a soft, needy sound, and presses even closer. He rucks up the back of Lucifer’s shirt. His fingers as they press into the small of Lucifer’s back are warm from the tea. The shape of his hand, his arm, his hips as they grind against Lucifer’s, their lips pressed together and Diavolo’s tongue licking into his mouth. It all seems so deliberate, so calculated—as if Lucifer’s body had been given shape with Diavolo in mind. It leaves him breathless and gasping, unmoored and full of want.

He pushes off of the door, sweeping his tongue over the roof of Diavolo’s mouth exactly the way he likes, and manoeuvres their entangled figures backwards. When he pushes him onto the bed the prince goes easily, pliable with desire, heaving, golden laser eyes set upon him. Lucifer climbs on top of him. He traces a light touch up the side of Diavolo’s hips, over his pants, along the hem of the shirt, closer, closer. Diavolo’s breath quickens, his fingers digging into the mattress. Lucifer presses the heel of his hand against Diavolo’s crotch. The prince arches off the bed. Lucifer smirks.

He leaves late that evening. There’s a burn to his body that leaves a delicate trilling in his chest. He hugs Diavolo goodbye at the gate, presses his nose into his hair and breathes. Dangerous, a grainy echo in the back of his mind says. But his brain is addled, his body loose, with moonshine sheltering them from reality under her silver cape. Diavolo cradles his face between his hands and kisses him softly. Neither of them says anything.

The whole family is sprawled around the TV when he gets back. Mammon sits on the floor with a blushing Beel, teasing him about some tasty flying burger. He looks up as Lucifer walks in.

“Do you have a headache?” Lucifer pulls out the painkiller he’d picked up at the castle. “Take this.”

“Wha—I don’t have a headache.”

“Take it. Now.” On the table, there is a half-empty bottle of cola and several glasses. Lucifer picks up the closest to Mammon’s. “Is this yours?”

Mammon nods, looking fed-up, and takes the glass from his hands. Lucifer watches him swallow the pill then nods. “Who’s making dinner?”

“I am,” Satan says, cracking his neck and getting up. “Levi, you have this downloaded, right? Send it to me, I’ll finish it later.”

“Do you need any help?” Lucifer asks.

“No!” Satan shoots him a disgusted look and hurries away to the kitchen, muttering under his breath.

Lucifer smothers a smile. The film playing on the tv is strange. A donut-shaped black hole and googly eyes to the rescue. A little intrigued, Lucifer watches for a while, unable to let go of his want for a shower to properly take a seat. Nobody asks him where he’s been. It’s not like he ever answers when it’s those days with Diavolo.

Then, naturally, Asmo walks in. His hair is wet, there’s a sheen to his skin, and he brings in the scent of strawberry body wash with himself. Appearing a little distracted with his mildly uncooperating hair he’s halfway into the room before he catches sight of Lucifer. He stops short then, his champagne eyes connecting with Lucifer’s. He tracks a slow look over the length of Lucifer’s form. A queer leer overcomes his eyes. Lucifer’s mood plummets.

“Hello, Lucifer…” Asmo coos, uncooperating hair forgotten now. “What naughty things have you been upto today, hmm?”

Acid froths in Lucifer’s stomach. Scorpions. Lucifer will have scorpions dig out all of Asmo’s hair, strand by strand by strand. And then he will set that fucking strawberry body wash on fire. Recognising a losing battle when he sees one, though, Lucifer shoulders past the younger to his room, even though the action almost brings him physical pain. His ears ring and there’s a stubborn itch to his hands. It’s only the thought of a familiar pair of lips on his neck that placates his more murderous desires. Still, scorpions and the death of many fruit-flavoured body washes.

The rain dries up. Time resumes its steady pace. Three weeks pass. Lucifer spends his days at RAD; most nights in his room on video calls with Diavolo doing paperwork. Asmo doesn’t do more than trail conspicuous looks over him on Sunday evenings after Lucifer had pulled him aside the first week and growled his serious scorpion-related threat into his face.

On Saturdays, he coerces the whole family into an outing together. First week it’s a museum (Satan), second it’s a Starlets Heart concert (Levi), third it’s a new Sushi restaurant downtown (Beel). Two days before the fourth Saturday, the house bill arrives, falling a wide margin below the budget. In a good mood, he takes them to a flea market and lets them loose. They come back heaving bags of books, two dozen DVDs and cassettes, a carefully wrapped artisan table lamp, and many small plastic bags of poison noodles that Lucifer swears he wouldn’t touch if House of Lamentation’s roof itself were crashing down upon him.

On his part, he buys a shimmering golden keychain of a cat for Mammon. He spots another in green and buys that for Satan. Most of his time, however, is spent at the vinyl shop thumbing through their metal collection.

“Something less known,” he tells the shopkeeper, “and heavy, if you will.”

The man plucks forth many, first from the newer section then older, but none feel right. The gut feeling that he gets, that tilting sensation in his stomach at the precise pick remains absent. He pays for a collection of classical sitar pieces and a pop one that Asmo swears an oath for on his “beautiful and lustrous hair that demons kill for”.

“If I end up disliking it, I’ll cut two centimetres off of them then.”

Asmo gasps. He touches his hand to his chest in faux outrage and scurries off. Lucifer laughs and follows. On the way back, they stop the car at AkuDonald’s and get takeout. Then ditch the plan to eat at home when Beel breaks and starts breezing through his dozen burgers with big bites. He tells Mammon to park beside a decent food truck. They order more food for Beel, open the doors, switch on the light and eat in the car. Like a big chaotic family. Levi drops a couple drops of his drink on the seat. Mammon complains his head off. It’s nice. He hopes they do this again sometime.

Later at night, after he’s sure all of them have fallen asleep, he sneaks out to meet Diavolo at the castle. For a second he freezes, puzzled at his own actions. Sneaking out of his own house in the middle of the night like some lowly thief, is that what he’d come to now? But then he drops down onto the castle grounds, Diavolo catches sight of him through the kitchen window, and his eyes light up with sunshine. He presses a long kiss to Lucifer’s lips when they meet. All the embarrassment in the world then seems worth it in the face of such beauty.

They set up the record player in the living room and sprawl on the sofa with glasses of ice-cold hellberry Demonus. Asmo’s album ends up being a hit. Diavolo laughs when Lucifer pretends to pout about his missed opportunity at playing barber. For the last song, a gentle and sombre tune, Diavolo pulls him upright and insists they dance.

“Are you mad?” Lucifer asks rhetorically. Drunk and mobile was not a good combination, not even in the face of such good music.

“Come on,” Dia pleads. “For me?”

His eyes are pools of drunken affection, his lips flushed from the Demonus. Lucifer melts. He pulls him closer and spins their entwined figures around the furniture. Diavolo presses a kiss to the side of his jugular and rests his forehead on his shoulder.

I love you.

The thought is soft, akin to the whisper of rain that mists the winds at the dawn of monsoon. A tide—lapping, curling, rising, sinking. It flows over him, instilling a slow, deep shock onto him. Love? But—

Diavolo raises his head. His eyes are kaleidoscopes of black and gold. His carmine hair, a riot on his head. He nudges their foreheads together, a loose smile on his lips. They continue to sway to the music.

The long notes of the violin, the delicate tinkling of the ganzá, the shrill and strong vocals of the choir. The music soothes the anxiety that Lucifer might have experienced if the revelation had come to him in private. Here, with candlelight casting darkness into the slopes of Diavolo’s face, their bodies pressed together, hearts and feet in sync, the thrum of Demonus in his veins loosening the bolts of the closed doors of his heart, Lucifer could almost give name to the feeling that scented the air around them.

Like home had inhabited a body and become a person.

Like he might have fallen in love.

Lucifer’s eyesight blurs. He tightens his hold around Diavolo’s waist.

Stupid, stupid, stupid—

Black moon Halloween, Diavolo’s birthday, some couple hundred years ago now, he’d gotten drunk. The alcohol had always flowed without inhibitions, but that day Lucifer had indulged without restraint. Why he had done so he struggled to remember now. The prince had booked the whole club for a more private celebration. That was the first time they’d danced together, to some pop-rock song that had come up and Lucifer had been too intoxicated to remember to keep his personal interests to himself.

“I like this,” he remembered saying.

Diavolo had immediately suggested dancing, perhaps excited to see him excited, and Lucifer had agreed without hesitation, already up and moving. The lights had been dim, navy blue and familiar. There was a moment, a still of the night in his mind, of Diavolo with flashing blue on his skin, eyes bright with joy, smile so wide and toothed Lucifer had been left utterly mesmerised. Golden.

You absolute fucki—

Diavolo presses a kiss to his lips. His thumb rubs indiscernible circles over the exposed skin of his forearm. Lucifer’s thoughts trip. The music has stopped. Silence reigns. The low crackle of the fire is barely audible. They are still wrapped up together. Reality is starting to loom over Lucifer, his heartbeat rising in his chest. Diavolo stares at him with hooded eyes, more smart than anyone ever gives him credit for. Seeking, searching, asking.

He should have known that this beautiful man who loved waking up at pretentious hours to go jogging and got excited at the prospect of paintball would be the one Lucifer would end up surrendering his heart to. He should have fucking known.

Lucifer tilts his chin and kisses him, gentle and unhurried. He pours into it all his emotions, nameless and gargantuan, trying to spell all the words that never make it past his throat. There’s always so many of them.

Diavolo smiles against his lips. He whispers something but Lucifer doesn’t catch it. He’s busy tracing the incline of the other’s cheekbones with his fingers, the flesh of his cheek, the curve of his ears, the sharp of his jawline. There’s an urgent need budding inside him, to savour, to consume, to take and perhaps, perhaps keep as well. It slithers through his body, golden and ablaze, and takes root somewhere deep, deep within him. Dia kisses him greedily, reflecting and reciprocating tenfold. His hands, looped around Lucifer’s waist, slide lower to cup his arse and grind their hips together.

“Fuck,” Lucifer gasps against Diavolo’s grinning mouth.

They stumble over the little side table and fall onto the sofa. There are strings of saliva between their lips, teeth clacking, nails scraping against scalps.

Lucifer tears his hands through Diavolo’s tight shirt and presses his lips to the feverish skin. It’s not enough. It’s never enough. Lucifer wants to fuse into him; crack his skin and bathe in him; meld their souls and mouths together for eternity. He wants to reach out, beyond skin and sinew, and press his lips straight to his heart.

He pulls him closer then; infinitely, impossibly closer. If he didn’t, he might disappear, his prince, his home. Like Lilith did, for forever.

Hold him, the deep grief in his body sings, tender and mournful like moonlight as he makes love to his prince, as long as your touch doesn’t scar him. Like it has everything else.

It is late morning when Lucifer awakes. The air is scented with hell jasmine and grapefruit. Diavolo lays asleep beside him on his stomach, a curved elbow obscuring half his face. Lucifer watches him, the red of his hair against the dark covers, the folds of skin at his neck, the gold-tipped horns, and the folded-back wings.

They’d never fucked through the night before. Even on days when they lost track of time, Lucifer would always leave. But last night something tangible had been shattered. A thread that he had been holding onto so desperately had slipped from his grip. The thought of leaving had never occurred to him during the entirety of yesternight. All he’d wanted was to touch Diavolo and employ his mouth over every dip and rise of his body. He’d wanted to feel him and breathe him and hear his own name slip from his swollen lips like fog in winters. He had scooped himself hollow and poured it over the other’s body.

Diavolo’s eyes flutter once, twice, then peel open, golden and hazy, a thousand miles away yet so near.

They hadn’t just fucked last night. They had made love.

Now as Lucifer watches the sleep desert Diavolo’s eyes slowly, a sour, putrid feeling corrugates in his gut. What had he done? He knew better than this; knew better than to hope for a happy ending. The arrows of grief hope hid underneath its veil, he knew them intimately. What could he say?

Today as you look at me with eyes warm and gentle, all I can give thought to is the control you possess over me. My sister was murdered and I’m bound to you for eternity. I feel infinitely more myself with you. Do you love me because you can control me or is this connection between us real? Your presence stabilises my being. I’ve known you for so long now but my wounds have never healed. I love you. I fear the power you possess over my family.

Lucifer stumbles out of bed. His vision swims. His heart beats deafeningly in his ears. The air tastes like torn-up soil and rotten feathers. There’s a moon over his head and his sister’s blood is on his hands. He reaches out to grasp the armrest of the sofa, steadies himself. Chesterfield. Striped. His hands will leave behind a bloody imprint on it. One more thing he’s ruined now. One more apology to make. One more guilt to carry. Breathe. His eyes open. He’s naked. Disgust makes his knees shake.

A warm hand settles over his spine. Lucifer flinches away. Diavolo freezes. “Don’t!” Lucifer growls out, his throat aching. Hollow eyes. Beautiful; dying. She’s choking on blood. What have you done? He has to save her, he has to protect—

“Lucifer, what’s wrong? Where are you—”

He stomps his way out. Every step makes his body quiver; a barbed knot in his sternum that paints his insides charcoal. It is only his memory and sense of direction that leads him to the living room. Their clothes are strewn around from last night. Lucifer switches into his human form and dons his. After a moment, Diavolo pads in behind him, dressed in plain white briefs.

“Where are you going?” he asks.

“Home,” Lucifer says, slipping into his shoes and zipping up his pants.

Diavolo clasps onto his arm. “What is it? Was it something I did? Or said? Tell me, Lucifer!”

Lucifer looks at him. There is puffiness beneath the other’s eyes that he hadn’t seen before. By the bridge of his nose, there is a tiny spot, a budding pimple. On his jaw, Lucifer can see the traces of slight stubble. All he wants at that moment is to kiss him.

“We won’t be seeing each other again,” he says, holding eyes with the prince.

A crack appears across Diavolo’s face. He’s so clever, so magnificent. Better than the most soothing symphonies and stronger than the hardest of rains. Diavolo raises his hand, hesitates, and then cups Lucifer’s jaw. Lucifer allows himself to lean into the touch, for his eyes to slip close; to savour it, this last time. Diavolo searches his face, his beautiful eyes fraught with despair, glistening. “I thought you wanted this,” he says.

Lucifer pulls away, his heart breaking. “I thought so too.”

Diavolo doesn’t stop him again.

Lucifer leaves.

#darkly and divinely written #obey me #obey me shall we date #dialuci #lucifer x diavolo #obey me angst #obey me lucifer #obey me diavolo #obey me dialuci #obey me mammon

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