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mono-dot-jpeg · 3 months ago

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your strongest potions, shopkeeper! - blue lock

summary; in which you (the reader, not y/n) learn of the tales of rafta

genre/extra tags; scenarios?, heavily inspired by potionomics (great game), characters as potionomics characters, fluff, comedy, modern fantasy au (technically), lots of potionomics references and fantasy talk, y/n a little stupid but it's fine.

a/n; hi, i've been playing potionomics nonstop lately and it's been on my mind and I already miss my silly baptiste. he's so babygirl. and naturally, why not smush my current interests together now since I got the idea in my mind already. i wont be discussing all the characters in the game and matching them with bllk boys unfortunately as im having a hard time wondering who would be who. tbh, a lot of them could probably apply to one character KHDJDKDJ

the ingredient merchant is a teasing one. he's dry, calculating, and more than willing to add fuel to a fire during a heated conversation. but he would never do that with you. but he does live to tease you with his dry remarks and his smug grin. but he's the one who helps supply your potion ingredients, though. you don’t really know how... but you decide not to question it.

karasu tabito is a clairvoyant. he has his large all-seeing orb, which he's told you that it's how he finds all his connections to get all these ingredients. and then he's got his little chest mimic. maybe not that little.. it's bigger than a chair. and he can sit on it like a large ottoman.

he's kind of mysterious despite being one of your first friends you've made in rafta. he doesn't talk a lot of his past, and he appreciates that you don't press hard about it.

he's probably been by your side since the start, watching your growth to defeat the competition in the potion-making industry.

you fell for him first, but he totally fell harder.

"you know i've been getting a lot of visions of a person lately. from my orb." he started. "i see your...stupid face in them." he looks away from you, the large brim of his warlock hat covering the subtle blush on his cheeks. he curls in on himself slightly, resting against his floating all-seeing orb. "you.. see me? wait, does that mean i'm gonna die soon?!" you panic, flinching back at the possible implications of him seeing you in his visions. "god, you're such an idiot. i mean, yeah, we all die someday, but this.. is different. it means.. that i like you." he grumbled. "so, what are you gonna do about it?" "hm.. can i kiss you then?"

the guild master is a man of the people... despite being born with a silver spoon in his mouth. he means well. he strives to make the blue lock guild thrive! he wants to support the amazing adventurers who supply and give their recent monster loot to the potion makers who keep them alive with their adventure commissions. but it's been hard for him, really. he's been so disconnected from the normal life that he doesn't understand low class or middle-class struggles as well as most would.

mikage reo is a man who wishes to experience what most people already have. he's sick of the cushy rich life of having everything (though his mother still sends him a care package of out-of-your-budget hair care). he's a sight for sore eyes, catching plenty of attention from anyone and everyone. he's a gentleman whilst being a little.. passionate (is passionate the right word?) about his experiences and his goal to improve the guild to its rightful peak. he's also the announcer for the potion contests in rafta! he's never biased in those. i promise. (/gen)

like how he's watched you grow to be a masterwork potion maker, you've watched slowly shed free of his insecurities of the past and worrying over not being a great guild master.

he's sweet, a little eccentric, and more than an open book than he realizes. he's loyal to his goal even if the seasoned adventurers give him side eye about his past and lack of proper qualifications to handle a guild.

you fell for each other just as hard as the other.

"lately, i've been going through quite a lot as i learn how to navigate this new life. it's been stormy skies and rough seas..." he said with a sad smile, but it turns into something more softer and happier, "but you've been there for me and had so much faith in my plans." "some days i want nothing more than to go back to luxury. to relax and be free from work." he said with an annoyed frown. "luxury and riches are nice." you nodded. "but you helped me and showed me things i have never experienced." he smiled brightly. "and for that, i found myself falling for you." he pulls out a bright red rose, handing it to you. "do you want to hear the love my heart has to offer to you?" you gently take the rose with your fingertips, "i already hear it loud and clear."

the excitable new hero that was part of the guild was a fun one! he was a hero enthusiast, wanting to become a hero himself because of it. and he made it all the way to rafta! and now he helps gather new ingredients for you, ready for any dangerous adventure. he's absolutely an excited puppy. he loves doing anything as long as it was adventurous! sometimes if he was feeling really crazy, he would try the flavor of the day in the local ice cream parlor. (he cried the day he got his least favorite flavor, mozuku)

he's been kind of hung up on wanting a trophy or large weapon. so many heroes had them, so he should get one! he has to be a great hero after all! but in your eyes, he was already rather great at what he did. he's swifter than a bee and stung like one too. he seemed to have this innate talent for fighting and being adventurous. he just didn't seem to believe it when he was surrounded by hero legends or higher ranked heroes.

he's been your most supportive customer, often visited for plenty of potions or maybe a quick large order. sometimes he gives you a discount for his commissioned work out on the field.

you didn't fall for him at least, but boy, did he fall for you hard.

"it's silly, wanting to have a trophy or weapon to show off for your success." he said softly. "but i really did want one. i wanted to show that i was a great hero, you know?" he laughed sheepishly. "you might not have found one, but you really did prove yourself along the way. you're pretty high ranked, aren't you?" "yeah, it just feels weird to not have anything to show for it.." he smiled wistfully before it melts into a softer grin. "but hearing you say that i proved myself, it makes me feel so much better!" he groaned childishly, "but still! believing in yourself is hard." "well, it's easy for me to believe in you. it's probably the easiest thing i could do." he goes quiet, looking at you with adoration before blurting out, "can i kiss you?"

the succubus currently living in your literal hell of a basement is certainly a character. you had beat him in the potion-making competition and he outed himself as a demon. which wasn't much of a shocker to you, considering his less than savory scams he did with his potions. but even so, he was considerably skilled in charms and illusions more than potions. he just needed some cash.

but now that he's lost, he had found solace in your unfinished cave basement.. that had a whole river of lava running through?! you curse your uncle ego for having such an odd home that's left for you to handle. so, you unwillingly take in the damn demon before he runs amok ruining other poor souls. he's charming. you'll give him that much. he often sells you illusions and charms that would help your potions sell better. and he even gives you some pointers on how to charm the customers into letting their guard down for a great profit. he's been looking for a place to belong in a while, and your home seems to fit that bill as much as he hates to admit. he's rowdy, flirty, invasive, most things that you don't really want to have around (especially since he unsealed the magic barrier that was keeping you safe from the heat of the lava).

but overtime, you seem to find yourself liking the odd presence of him. or maybe he had unintentionally put a charm on you. you may never know.

you fell first, he fell right after.

"you know i really saw you as a threat to my business and all." he said. "it really wasn't love at first sight." he laughed. "but you're still you, even after all your big decisions to change. still the same wrecking ball that crashed into my shop and right into my basement." "i was petty about a lot of things for a long time. many many years probably. when my own home got destroyed. i was just surviving to the next day." he said, frowning slightly. "but i changed. i changed to find my way to you." "now, you're thriving." "i really am thriving. and now, whatever i decide to do with my life. i want you by my side." "i want that too." "then show me, dear."

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock bachira #blue lock karasu #blue lock reo #mikage reo x reader #reo mikage x reader #reo mikage #blue lock meguru bachira #blue lock bachira x reader #bachira x reader #bachira meguru #karasu tabito x reader #tabito karasu x reader #karasu x reader #karasu tabito

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peterparkersnose · 2 years ago

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Sucks to Suck

pairing: Din Djarin x senator!reader

word count: 2.7k

warnings: near death experience, sexual references, sexual thots, not smut but sensual i guess?, alcohol consumption and drunk reader, respect of consent, SEXUAL TENSION and description of weaponds and snakes, tiny bit of body dysmorphia, swearing, takes place in between S2 of the Mandalorian and The Book of Boba Fett

The Mandalorian Airs Tomorrow!

a/n you guys see my padme reference there? huh? enjoy the tension the not angst but angst i loved writing this (it is 1am help i started writing this at 10pm) the sighing gif is literally din giving into his intrusive thoughts this whole story it was too perfect not to use (also i make up star wars planets lmao wut) my favorite mandalorian fic of mine besides secret

summary Din is Senator Y/N’s bodyguard and helps her after an attack

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read time: 10 mins 1 seconds

The Mandalorian your father hired to protect you while you were visiting planet Elaeia was less than ideal.

The same one who also came back to accompany you to a senate meet where there was a threat made against your life.

And the same one that followed you around your whole beach vacation.

Somehow he turned in to an on call babysitter for you. Every time you saw him waiting outside your ship you began to loathe the trip. And soon, he began to show up around your house. Didn’t your father trust you? You were way past the age for need of a babysitter. You were a young adult, you could be the babysitter. And you were a damn senator. But as always, you sucked it up and tried to make the best of the situation.

“Don’t you ever get tired of the suit?” you asked, trudging up the stairs of your luxury apartment you rented for the week.

“Never.” Din lied. He couldn’t count the countless times he had wanted to rip it off and spent a night with you. Chills sent down his spine as he tried to think of something different to ease himself into the long week ahead.

But you were work. Your powerful father was paying him more than any bounty could. He needed the credits more than he needed you, right?

“What do you wear under there anyways?”

He hesitated to answer. “Clothes.”

“Really?” you asked sarcastically.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he muttered, almost barely enough for you to hear.

“Where are you going to crash tonight?” you asked him, placing your bag on the ottoman in front of your bed. “Not tired,” he lied again. The way he wanted to hold you in that comfortable bed was-

He had to stop his thoughts there.

“What time is it?” you asked him. “Around 7.”

“Shit! I’m going to be late.” you panicked. “I’m sorry, I thought we had some time to rest.” you apologized, knowing Din was exhausted from the trip.

The dress that was already hung in the closet for you was what you were going to wear to the banquet tonight. Without even caring, you opened your bag and pulled out the bra you were going to wear for the night. Without hesitation, Din stepped out of the room. Not today.

The dress was a deep blue and was form fitted. It jutted out at the bottom, complimenting your shape. It had long sleeves and a low neckline where your necklace was going to rest that night. You tied your hair up into a large bun with a braid around the base.

“Your train is here…” Din said, stepping in the room carefully. “Thank you. Wait- Mando?”

His heart skipped a beat when you said his nickname. You had known his name for a while, but he still enjoyed it when you called him Mando. Din was stunned at how you looked. I mean, you always looked good. But he could imagine standing next to you at the banquet in a suit, your arm draped over his and a ring on your finger.

The armor didn’t exist in that world.

“Yeah?” he asked. “Can you get this for me?” you asked, handing him the necklace you were going to wear that night. It was gold. Large and resembled tree roots. It was to sit along your chest and clip under your breasts along with behind your neck to stay put.

He handled the necklace carefully. His arms reached up and placed the necklace in front of you as his fingers trailed up the back to clasp the neck clasp.

“Dank farrik,” he sighed. His gloves were in the way of handling the tiny clasp. “Hold it for a second,” he told you. Din sighed as he made the decision. He slowly slipped off each glove and set them down on the bed.

You seemed to tense when his hands brushed your shoulders. You turned your head and saw his gloves sitting at the edge of your bed. The skin was cold and his hands were surprisingly soft.

Din hadn’t touched a woman with his bare hands well… ever. Sure he had brought in bounties who could identify as female. But nobody as elegant and beautiful as you. He would never forget the oddly intimate encounter.

“Thank you,” you said smoothly, adjusting the necklace around your ribcage. “You could call this more of a corset,” you huffed, smiling as you caught a glimpse of his skin as he slipped his gloves back on.

Standing in the mirror, you struggled getting the bottom clasp closed. You turned your body, trying to see if you had gained a bit of weight since you last wore this piece.

“Din,” you called sweetly, almost with a bit of song in your voice. He turned around on his heel as you saw from the mirror and it made you smile. “Yes?” he asked in the same tone you called him.

The way you called for him made him think about one of the rare memories he had of his parents. How one called out to the other. It was a brief moment but gave him deja vu when he heard you speak his name. Speak his name like a wife would call to her husband.

“It won’t-”

The sigh from his modulator was hard to miss.

“Can you help?” you asked, eyes looking up into his viser.

“I’ll hold them, don’t worry.” you smiled, your hands branching down lifting up your breasts.

Under the mask his eyes widened at the comment.

Din got down on his knees to try to get a better angle of the clasp. No other reason. He tried his best to focus on the clip but he couldn’t keep his eyes off the way you held yourself. Thank the gods for the viser, or he would have died of embarrassment.

“How’s it going?” you asked him. You could feel him struggling again with the gloves.

“What if I…”

You attempted to hold your breasts with one arm and had the other hand come down to help him, but the plan failed. Your boobs folded over on his hands without fail.

His hands quickly retreated from your ribcage. You noticed the stress in his demeanor, his breathing quickened.

You thought he was upset with you. Possibly disrespecting his creed, you felt horrible. Guilt knit tightly in your stomach as you knew you were going to think about this event the whole night. The embarrassment was enough for a lifetime.

Din couldn’t care less about his creed at the moment. He had never felt boobs before.

“Oh god! I am so sorry,” you said in horror.

“I can have someone at the banquet do it, let’s just forget-”

You were silenced by the sound of his gloves hitting the ground. Once again, his hands were at your service.

“Let’s get this done. We’re going to be late.” he said.

Grabbing the chain once again, he clasped it on the first try.

He escorted you to the train silently. He held one of your hands in his. The other hand held his pair of gloves.

Din hadn’t even notice you grabbed his hand. And to be honest, you didn’t really either. It was an instinct. Trains always freaked you out and he knew that. The gap between the ground and the train car, the speed they went at. Commercial trains were filled with unsuspecting people. Thankfully, the banquet event sent out personal trains for some of the local senators.

Finally you only noticed when he pulled away to put his gloves back on as you pulled closer to the event.

Had he really been holding your hand the whole time?

Meanwhile back at the apartment you had rented, you expected it to be empty. There was no need for a guard, you had only just arrived. Your location to be revealed to possible rebels wasn’t likely, you were stationed there for only a short time. A guard would follow you home along with Din.

You knew Din was capable of protecting you, he had every time. Something about a man in armor killing in your name just did something to you. But the uncertainty of almost everything about him made you push that idea to the back of your mind. And anyways, you were bound to marry for a political reason some day. It was coming eventually you assumed. Dates were never nearly as exciting as an adventure with Din.

The guard honestly was a joke at this point. It gave your advisors a piece of mind though, so you allowed it.

The seemingly empty apartment was carefully broken into. The sliding glass door from the balcony was opened, no fingerprints left and promptly shut as the rebel left.

Poisonous snakes were left slithering in your sheets.

It was something you would later recognize as a similar thing had happened to a senator many years ago. Poisonous bugs left to crawl in her bed.

Din walked you off the train platform and back to your apartment as quickly as he could. You, on the other hand, we’re being difficult.

“Don’t you ever take vacations?” you asked him, barely able to stand upright. He ignored your strange drunken question and kept holding on to you. “You didn’t answer meee!” you yelled, breaking free from his grasp and raising your hands to the air. The mist had accumulated from the oncoming storm.

“No. I don’t.” he sighed, grabbing your arm gently and guiding you back to the lobby with a hand placed on your lower back.

“Din,” you slurred, holding on to his armor in the elevator. Your fingers marched up his beskar chest plate as you asked him this.

“You ever had a girlfriend before?”

He blinked furiously under his helmet. What the fuck?

“Y/N, let’s get you to bed. Hm?”

“But Dinnn,”

“Come on,” he sighed, placing his hand on your back. The guard was stationed at the door. Din gave him a nod.

“I’m not sleepy!” you insisted, angered that you were being forced to end this wonderful night.

Din threw his gloves on the kitchen counter. He was getting sick of the things. After all these years in gloves, his hands never felt as uncomfortable and sweaty as they did that night.

“Here,” he sighed, steadying you by the shoulder and unclasping the clasp by your neck. The heavy necklace seemed to fall off yourself, only slightly catching at the waist.

“Thank you mister.” you said, letting it drop to the floor with a shake of your hips. Along with that you left your heels.

He saw you face dive into your bed and chuckled a bit as he was picking up after you. That necklace was probably worth more than the beskar he was wearing.

Din eyed up the couch, exhausted after watching you all night. He stood in the balcony of the event and watched you drink yourself almost to the point of embarrassment until he decided it was time for you to return home.

He had just began to settle in when he heard you scream.

It wasn’t like he had heard you scream before. He was used to all the rage screams when an article came out portraying you negatively. He was used to all the screams over the phone with your friends. He was used to the muffled screams he heard as he hid in his quarters when you would have dates over and prayed it would end.

But he would never forget this one.

He knocked over the vase on the coffee table, but didn’t really care.

The prolonged scream attracted the interest of the guard who busted in, spear ready.

Din had made it in the room first. He drew his blaster watched as you simultaneously chucked a snake in his direction. His blaster shot, killing the thing.

“Are you okay?” he asked, grabbing you immediately. You wrapped your arms around his neck and cried into his armor.

The guard ripped back the sheets and found three more slithering in the sheets. The sight of that made you shriek more.

Din’s hand ran across the back of your head. His fingers hadn’t felt hair like that in forever. His own locks didn’t match up to your softness.

The guard removed each snake and silently killed them.

“Cardillian Greybecks,” the guard sighed, now bagging the snake carcasses. “I’m going to bring these down to the base, are you two all right alone or should I call someone?”

“We’re fine.” Din said sternly, praying for the man to leave.

He calmed you enough to sit you back down on the edge of the bed. “Everything is okay. No more snakes, see?” he says, shaking out a blanket.

“Fuck,” you sighed, your hand running down the side of your leg. “You alright?” Din asked, shaking out the pillows just in case.

“I must have scratched my leg in the scuffle, it really fucking hurts.” you slurred, rubbing the side of your leg. Of course the alcohol was still there.

“Oh gods,” Din sighed, asking for your leg immediately. Laying back against the bed, you lifted your right leg in the air for him to inspect. If he wasn’t so worried he would have thought the pose was somewhat provocative.

“Shit,” he sighed. You were bitten.

“What?” you asked eagerly, pulling your leg back. He held on to it though, staring at the festering wound on your leg.

“It hurts. Please,” you begged, pulling your leg back. Din was scrambling on what to do.

“This…” he sighed, hating the only option available. There wasn’t enough time to get you to a proper medic.

“Hold still.”

He slowly lifted his helmet up to the bottom of his nose to reveal his mouth and chin.

“Din!” you yelled as his lips made contact with your skin. “What the-” you began, but immediately soothed as you felt the venom leaving your bite. A needy moan escaped from your lips.

Din spat out the first round of venom. It stung his lips. It wasn’t enough to kill him, it wasn’t in his bloodstream. It tasted bitter and artificial.

“Oh my god,” you whined as his lips continued to suck on the wound. “Din, holy fuck.” you moaned, squirming in his grasp.

Even though you just had been on the brink of death, this was one of the most sensual things you had ever experienced in your opinion. The thought of his lips teasing you drove you up the walls.

He spit out another round. “One more, I’m sorry.”

You gasped at his voice. No mask, no modulator. “Oh gods, don’t stop.” you begged. Your back arched as he took in the final round, finally tasting blood to indicate the venom was gone.

He spit it out on the ground and slipped his mask back on.

“What?” he asked out of breathe. He had convinced himself he didn’t just hear what he thought he did. His ears were muffled by the mask in its awkward position.

Sitting up in bed, you patted the mattress. He sat down.

“That was so hot,” you whispered near his ear.

He didn’t say anything to you. You had prayed he would rip off his mask and take you then and there. Din wanted the same thing too, he would feverishly re play this night over and over in his mind for years.

But you were wasted. And he had a creed.

Even though after each passing day without Grogu his allegiance to his creed drew weaker, he still had his limits.

Din knew you would regret those words in the morning. But the phrase Cara told him many moons ago rung in his brain.

“Drunk words are sober thoughts.”

“Talk to me when your sober.” he replied. He stood up and removed the base of the helmet once again. You embraced his body as he kissed you on the top of your head.

“Din,” you feverishly whispered. Without a second thought, you stood up. His body pushed against yours as you passionately kissed his lips. Your nose bumped the mask up more, but neither of you cared. His nose brushed against yours as you kept your eyes shut. The urge to look was strong, but you respected him too much to take a peek.

“One day,” he smiled, breaking the kiss. “Are you sure I can’t see more?” you asked. He shook his head as he pulled the mask down again. “One day,” he repeated, his voice now modulated again.

“Thank you for saving my life.” you said. “Any day,” he said sarcastically.

He placed the blankets securely over you.

The room was dim enough where he was sure if he was ever caught he would have an excuse. And you would lie for him, he was certain of it.

“Just one more thing-” you asked as his silhouette made its way through your door. He turned and looked at you.

“What color are your eyes?”

He had the widest smile on his face. The thought of you trying to form his face in your mind was almost comical for him.

“Brown. Good night, Cyare.”

“I knew they were brown, I knew it.” you whispered to yourself, convinced Din couldn’t hear.

He smiled as he retreated to the couch, unsure if sleep would visit him after his eventful night.

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boybandposter · 1 year ago

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[One Shot: “Paint me the Moon“]

⤷𐙚 featuring: Larry Johnson 🤍

⤷𐙚 It’s your seventeenth birthday, and Larry wants to give you a gift ♡︎

⤷𐙚 word count: 1.6K

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

A gentle plume of smoke spilled from your lips as you leaned further back into the couch. After a full day of partying with Ashley, Sal, and Larry, you four finally got to unwind at your apartment. Sadly, your parents were still gone due to business— promising to make up for it once they returned. Just another common occurrence, but you didn’t mind. It made it easier to have everyone over to just hang out anyways.

You took another drag of your blunt before speaking, “Being seventeen is great and all, but it’s just another year of high school.” You sighed and looked up at the ceiling with a lax smile. You heard Ash and Larry chuckle, and Larry crossed his legs over your lap.

“Just drop out, dumbass. You could always do pole dancing like you joke around abo—“ Larry couldn’t even finish his sentence before you threw a decorative pillow at his face.

“Come on, you know those are jokes. Kinda. Maybe.” You kept changing your words and passed the rest of your joint to Sal, who sat quietly on the ottoman. He was more talkative earlier, but it was getting late and it had been a long day.

As if on queue, Ashley stood from the floor and stretched, a small crack coming from her back. You hadn’t noticed, but she shot Sally a look as if indicating some secret message. “Well, I dunno about you guys, but I’m beat.” She talked as she picked up a bit of the mess, which wasn’t too much of a hassle. Sal stood up as well and ran his hair through his blue locks.

“Same, and I gotta feed Gizmo. When we stopped at my apartment my dad was out, so I can only assume he still is.” His voice was slightly muffled by his prosthetic as he spoke, and he trudged over to where you sat. Sal grabbed your hands and pulled you up into a tight hug. He wished you happy birthday for the millionth time, telling you how grateful he was for you and that he wanted you to trip and eat grass (you had shoved him earlier at the lake and he nearly did the same).

You laughed and pulled away from his arms and was quickly met by Ashley’s embrace, where she nearly squished the life from your frame, spouting quick words of ‘I love you so much’ and ‘happy birthday’. Ash planted a quick kiss on your cheek and looked at Larry, who still sat on the couch lazily. Soon after, it was just you and Larry at your apartment. It wasn’t uncommon by any means— almost every other time all four of you hung out, Larry stayed behind to keep you company. Or you two would simply hang out with each other when the other two were busy.

You nestled back to your spot on the couch and put your own legs above Larry this time, his large palm resting on top of your shin. You could’ve sworn that for a split second, Larry ran his thumb back and forth, but you had smoked a little so you ignored it. But what really threw you off was that he was just… staring. His brown eyes reached into your soul, at least that’s what it felt like. After what felt like an hour, he chuckled and leaned his head back against the headrest.

“Sorry I had spaced out, I was just thinking.”

“You? Think? I don’t think so.” Your laugh was cut short as he pinched your ankle, making you squeal and flinch. “Sorry, sorry! It was too good to pass up. And you definitely set yourself up for that one.”

Larry rolled his eyes and sighed with a soft smile on his face. He almost looked ethereal in the dimly lit room, and you had to shake yourself mentally to avoid staring… again. “I was going to give you a little something for your big day, but maybe you don’t want it after all.” He admitted with a shrug and a simple tilt of his head.

“What?! C’mon, now I’m curious! You never give gifts, so please? I’ll be super nice this time!” You pleaded with him, but the grin on your face contradicted your words. Your hands mimicked a praying motion as you sat up on the couch. your mind raced with thoughts and ideas of what he could’ve brought. Whatever it was, you were bound to cherish it forever and you knew you were going to write this moment down in your journal later.

Larry stood up from the cushions and pulled his long hair into a loose bun that hung at the nape of his neck. “You better behave then. And close your eyes, y/n. Wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise, would we now?”

You immediately complied and placed your hands over your eyes. All you could do was listen as he shuffled around the room, but you knew it was pointless. A comfortable silence filled the room, until Larry broke it with a heavy exhale. “Alright, I guess you can take a look now.”

“You guess? What do you…” You trailed off as you removed your hands, ad you were met face-to-face with the most gorgeous portrait of yourself. Your eyes scanned and admired every minuscule detail, from the way your hair had clung to your skin to the wrinkles of your smile. Not a single word escaped your tongue.

Tears slowly trailed down your cheeks unbeknownst to you as you turned to Larry, who looked anxious to his core. His hands opened and closed as he waited for something, anything— He wanted you to hurry and tell him that you hated it, or that he got your face wrong. God, this was making his heart pound like crazy.

Your voice broke him out of his thoughts, his eyes snapping upwards to meet your gaze.

“Larry… it’s beautiful. I— God, I don’t even know what to say, I…” Your eyes flickered between the painting and the man in front of you.

Larry rubbed the back of his neck and shoved his other hand in his pocket. “Maybe a thank you would work for now?” He chuckled breathlessly and a weight was immediately lifted off his shoulders. But for him, he had one more thing planned out for you. A laugh escaped from your mouth as you wiped the salty tears from your cheeks, shaking your head to try and collect yourself.

Before Larry could even make up a shitty excuse, you were wrapping your arms around his neck in a warm embrace. His brain stopped for a moment, any witty comments flying from his thoughts. Without too much waiting, you felt his arms slide around your waist. “I’m glad you like it y/n. I was actually pretty fucking nervous to give it to you.” Larry chuckled in your ear and pulled away just enough to see your face.

You quirked your eyebrow and cocked your head to the side in confusion. Normally Larry wouldn’t have any problem showing you his work. Every time he finished a piece he would invite you over to see it. “Why would you be nervous about it? It’s one of the most beautiful paintings I’ve ever seen from you.” You questioned him innocently, the evident curious tone taking place in your voice.

Larry’s gaze flickered away from yours for a brief moment, “That’s where the second part of my ‘gift’ comes in. That’s really the reason I’m nervous.” He explained with a deep exhale. You couldn’t help but notice how tense he suddenly felt.

“Y/n…. I know I’m not the best person around, that much is obvious. But… can I be your boyfriend?” His cheeks flared pink at his quickly spoken question. Both of you sat in a shocked silence but what else were you supposed to do?

Larry couldn’t believe he had actually worked up the guts to ask, and you? You yet again found yourself staring at him with a slacked jaw. Your own cheeks burnt, but you couldn’t focus on anything except the fact that he asked to be your boyfriend. Emotions ran through your body, but the most prominent of them was the sheer and utter joy of it all. You couldn’t remember a time when you didn’t have a crush on Larry, but you always thought it was a hopeless case. But everything is different now. “Are you being serious? Like, this isn’t a joke?”

Larry simply shook his head with a sheepish look plastered on his slender face. Were you that repulsed by the idea of dating him?

You shrieked and found yourself hugging him so hard that he nearly stumbled backward onto the couch. Larry was too shocked to even say anything but managed to hold your waist as his mind short-circuited. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes! Oh my God, I can’t believe this is happening right now!” You giggled and bounced on your toes, your hold on his body never once loosening. Every other gift paled in comparison (except for the painting, which was the second favorite) to his words. “Fuck, I could kiss you right now!” Your eyes widened at your own words and you blankly gazed at him to await his reaction.

Larry’s hands ghosted over your arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. They stopped to cup your face, his own crooked-tooth smile sending butterflies straight to your stomach. “Well, I am your boyfriend now. Go crazy. Please.” Larry whispered the last word and you couldn’t even stop yourself from kissing him senseless.

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

⤷𐙚 author’s note: PLEASE I actually love Larry so much it makes my head hurt. I was going to make it a little longer but it didn’t happen🗿

#florence writes !#larry johnson #larry johnson x reader #larry johnson x you #sally face fanfics #larry johnson x fem!reader #fanfic #x reader #writing #requests open #reqs open #larry johnson x y/n

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chestcongestion · 8 months ago

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Losing Your Grippe- Ch.3: Ha//zbin Ho/tel

I couldn't think of an interlude this time, every chapter feels more fun than the last.

I got to write for some of my favorite characters again in this one- then again, it's so hard to actually pick a concrete favorite in this cast- and this is definitely going to be at least 6 or 7 chapters, which is exciting! Fic is under the cut as always, I hope you guys enjoy!

Word Count: 4,756

After leaving the hotel to go on about his day, Alastor got started with his errands, picking up his outfit for the overlord summit and heading out to Cannibal Town.

Alastor was quite proud of the outfit he’d arranged for the summit, especially since it was a bit more extravagant than what he’d usually select. He’d selected a dark red suit with a black jacket made of fabric that was decorated with vibrant red stars that covered the black space like glitter.

Rosie had seen the fabric while out shopping and excitedly proposed that they wear matching outfits to the summit. She had gotten a dress made out of the fabric, while Alastor elected to have his suit jacket and bow tie made from it instead.

Hopefully their ensembles matched the way Rosie had originally envisioned, if they did, the pair would look absolutely dashing at the summit.

Alastor stood outside of Rosie’s Emporium, having knocked patiently on the double doors twice.

‘Maybe she doesn’t like the way her dress looks’ Alastor pondered, ‘Noo, with what she paid for that fabric and how close we are to the summit, if she wasn’t satisfied with her dress, she’d have told me already.’

Before Alastor had a chance to continue his train of thought, one of the doors to the emporium swung open, and Alastor was greeted by Rosie’s housekeeper Isaac, who was wearing a blue surgical mask.

“It’s a pleasure seeing you again, Isaac, quite a pleasure, is Rosie home?” Alastor asked, tilting his head out of curiosity regarding Isaac’s choice of accessory, his left ear twitching.

Isaac nodded, gesturing for Alastor to come inside and shutting the door behind him, “She’s in the den, she might be sleeping but I heard the television when I walked by, so I assume she’s awake now,” he explained, dusting his hands off on the apron tied around his waist.

“Thank you,” Alastor replied, parting ways with the cannibal housekeeper and walking briskly towards the beautifully carved archway that led into Rosie’s den, stepping inside.

Rosie was reclined across her sofa, gently straddling a body-sized pillow underneath her large red and white fleece blanket. Her eyelids were red-rimmed and slightly puffy, with dark circles resting underneath them like exhaustion-induced bruises.

“Is someone there?” Rosie asked, her voice weak as she struggled to push herself into a seated position, straining her neck in an attempt to look around the room while still halfway lying down.

Alastor walked around to the other side of the sofa, shooting Rosie a curt wave before sitting on the ottoman storage trunk that stood between the sofa and the coffee table, “It’s only me, my dear, don’t worry,” he said, noticing the exhausted look on Rosie’s face and the splotchy flushed pattern covering her cheeks.

“Oh… Ih’tshiew! Ih’TsShew!- ‘m sorry- snff!- Hiya, Alastor… it’s nice to see you,” Rosie said, her voice slightly hoarse as she stared up at Alastor with her shimmering black eyes.

“It’s nice to see you too,” Alastor said, gently moving a piece of Rosie’s hair out of her face, “I came to see if our outfits for the summit came out the way you envisioned… but do you think you’ll still be attending in four days? You don’t look well.”

Rosie shook her head before letting out a guttural, throaty cough into the back of her wrist, taking a shaky inhale to catch her breath, “Ndo, I don’t feel well either… I called Carmilla to tell her I probably won’t be going… SnFF! I-Ih’TsShIEW! ‘TsSHIEW! ‘TsShhEW!” she said, plucking a tissue out of the box nearby and blowing her “nose” before tossing the soiled tissue into a quickly-overflowing trash can, moaning pitifully.

“Gesundheit!” Alastor exclaimed, bottling his anguish at the spray that he felt misting his lapel and sleeves, “Do you think there’s a chance that you’ll have recovered in time for the summit?”

Rosie shook her head, “I felt so lousy yesterday that Isaac took me to the hospital- KHHFF khfff!- sorry… the doctor I saw said I have the flu,” she said, mopping away at the beads of sweat gathering on her forehead with her sleeve, “I’ll be infectious for the next few days, and I’ll feel too lousy to go anywhere for at least another week.”

“Poor dear, that’s a shame, it’ll be miserable going to the event without you, you know.” Alastor sighed, smoothing out another piece of Rosie’s hair with his fingers.

“I know… SnFF snff!- I’m sorry to cancel on such short notice, I was looking forward to it this time,” Rosie said, frowning as she plucked two tissues out of their box and pressed them against her face, “I-IH’TtShEW! Ih’TsSHIEW! ‘TsSheww! ‘TSshhiew!”

“Gesundheit!” Alastor exclaimed, reluctantly reaching out to rub Rosie’s back as she sniffled and wiped at her irritated nostrils.

“Uu ughhh,” Rosie groaned, flopping onto her side and pulling her blankets up to her neck as she shivered, a stray tear leaving her right eye as she clenched her teeth, “Isaaac!”

In the time it took Alastor to blink, Isaac was in the den, standing behind the arm of the sofa closest to Rosie’s head, flashing an eerily obedient smile.

“Yes, Ms. Rosie?”

“Could you grab the heating pad from my closet, please?” Rosie asked, clutching her abdomen under her blankets and writhing slightly, “I’m in too much pain to deal with this hot water bottle.”

“Of course, I’ll be right back,” Isaac said, rushing upstairs and returning with the aforementioned heating pad, gently tucking it under Rosie’s blankets until it pressed against her pelvis and thighs, and plugging it into the power strip next to the sofa, “Perfect.”

The heating pad warmed up quickly, and the radiating waves of heat soothed the intense aching of Rosie’s joints and muscles, allowing her to let out a relaxed sigh that devolved into a hoarse cough.

“This feels great, thank you, Isaac- SnFF!” Rosie muttered drowsily, her eyelids drooping as she yawned.

“It’s my pleasure, Ms. Rosie,” Isaac replied, gently pressing a hand to Rosie’s forehead and pulling a mercury thermometer out of his pocket, slipping it under her tongue and checking the grandfather clock in the corner of the room until forty-five seconds passed, “103… still high, but stable.”

Rosie blinked, her face shifting from a pained grimace into a sleepy and relaxed smile, “Mm… mkay,” she yawned, “I’m gonna take a nap.”

“Excellent idea, I’ll have some tea ready when you wake up,” Isaac replied, dunking a folded cloth into the bowl of ice water sitting on the end table next to the arm of the sofa, wringing the water out and placing the cool damp cloth over Rosie’s eyes, smiling when she sighed with relief.

“I-Ih’TssSHIEW!- sNff!- G’night Isaac,” Rosie muttered, cuddling up to her pillow, “G’night… Alastor.”

Isaac chuckled, smoothing out Rosie’s blankets and turning the volume on the television down, “Goodnight, Ms. Rosie,” he said, leaving the room and getting back to tidying around the house.

Alastor pulled a calling card out of his suit jacket’s left pocket, setting it down on Rosie’s coffee table and petting her shoulder before leaving the den and wandering out of Rosie’s home through the back door.

Finally back in the open air, Alastor hurriedly dusted himself off, grimacing at the fact that he was once again crawling with germs.

“E uch, I wish it would rain, rinse the accursed virus right off of me,” Alastor muttered, squirting some of the hand sanitizer he’d received as a gift from Charlie into his hands and massaging it into the skin of his palms and fingers as he began his brisk walk to the Weapons District.

Arriving at the back door to the Carmine Weapons Factory, Alastor quietly slid the loading dock’s service door up with one hand, ducking underneath it and letting it back down behind him. Going through the factory’s staff and Carmilla’s household staff just to return a book was far too troublesome to be worth the effort.

Wandering through the halls of Carmilla’s home, Alastor held his breath, remaining silent as he approached a door at the end of the hallway, twisting the knob and slowly pushing the door open to avoid any creaking.

‘Maybe this is a bit creepier than if I’d just gone through her staff correctly, she isn’t exactly the wisest choice in terms of people to startle,’ Alastor thought to himself as he looked around the neat and tidy space, quickly realizing that he’d chosen the wrong door, “Wrong room,” he mumbled, turning around and shutting the door behind him.

Curiously twitching his ears, Alastor listened intently until he picked up on the sound of running water and Carmilla’s voice from the other side of the hallway, behind a larger door that was decorated with a black princess water lily.

“Koff- KHFF- khfff! KHhHFF- IiKxhht’SCHUHH!”

Alastor’s stomach dropped, he clutched Carmilla’s book in his hands and quietly snuck inside of her bedroom, slipping underneath the closed door by vanishing into a swirling pool of shadows, reappearing fully-formed on the other side of the door.

“KOFF! KHhHFF! kHFF-Khfff-KHFFF!”

Alastor winced, chewing on his tongue as he moved to set the book down on Carmilla’s nightstand, when suddenly the sound of running water stopped and footsteps could be heard instead.

‘Oh dear…’

Carmilla’s bathroom door swung open, and an exhausted Carmilla stumbled out in her bath towel and flip-flops, hacking violently into a closed fist, eventually having to brace herself against a wall while she coughed.

“KHHFF-KHFFF-(gasp!)- KhhFF-koff!-(gasp!)- KHHHFFF-KHFFF Khfff khfff!,” Carmilla struggled, finally scratching the itch in her lungs and getting a chance to catch her breath. Once she’d regained her composure, she looked up and saw Alastor standing in the corner of her bedroom, staring back at her sheepishly.

Carmilla squealed, grabbing one of her shoes from a rack on the floor and pointing the blade in the Radio Demon’s direction, “What are you doing in here?! Khff-KHfff!- oh for the love of- KHHhFFF-koff-khhff!- fuck- I-ihh’KTsScHHUHH! Ih’KtSschhuhh!”

Alastor held up both hands and averted his eyes as Carmilla hurriedly tugged on a sports bra, a pair of satin pajamas and her dressing gown, “Put down the pointe shoe, Carmilla, that cough is frightening enough, thank you,” he said, trying not to gag at every chesty, croupy cough.

Carmilla rolled her eyes, collapsing onto her bed and drying her hair with her towel, “Why are you in my house? Why are you in my bedroom?!” she hissed, folding her towel and spritzing her now-dry hair with a mixture of argan oil and coconut water before massaging it in with her hands.

“I came to return your book, I’m going to be honest when I heard your…fit, I was prepared to drop off the book and leave, but by the time I came to that conclusion you were already out of the shower,” Alastor explained.

“How lovely,” Carmilla sighed, shivering a bit as she folded her arms, “Hand me that blanket hanging over the back of that chair, please?”

Alastor obliged, watching Carmilla wrap the fleece blanket around her shoulders and tuck her legs under her duvet, “I also came to inform you that the princess won’t be able to attend the upcoming summit-”

“Let mbe guess- SnFF!- she has the flu?” Carmilla inquired, unamused as she grasped around on her nightstand before grabbing a box of tissues, wiping away at her friction-reddened nares as gently as possible to avoid irritating the sensitive skin, “Snff-snff!”

Alastor nodded solemnly, reaching a hand up to his face to adjust his monocle before panicking and clasping both hands behind his back upon remembering that he’d touched Carmilla’s blanket.

‘Don’t touch your face, do not touch your face,’ he thought to himself, fiddling with the pockets of his slacks to keep his fingers busy.

“Tell her not to worry about it, the summit is postponed, at this point there’ll be no one to attend- KHFFF khff!- Rosie has the flu, Vox called to tell me that Velvette has the flu, Zillia has the flu, Zestial has the flu-” Carmilla paused in her rant, her eyes twitching as she pinched at her nostrils, “F-fuck thi-ihh… I-Iih’KTsSCHUHH! IH’PtSsCHUHH! I-Ihh’KtSsshhuh! HIH’KtSschhEW! Uchh…Snff!- and so do I.”

“How unfortunate… Have you heard from Zestial?” Alastor inquired, raising an eyebrow, “I can’t imagine an illness this aggressive is something he’d handle well at his age.”

“No- SnFF!- his butler called me while I was in my office… I-Ihh’PtSsChuhh! Ih’PtSsXHuhh!- I could hear him in the background, though… he sounded about as healthy as I do right now,” Carmilla replied, pulling her blanket tighter around her frame.

Alastor sanitized his hands, feeling his stomach churn, “Goodness, it’s certainly going around,” he said through clenched teeth, “Do you need anything before I leave?”

Carmilla coughed, rubbing her chest, “Would you be willing to help me braid my hair? I can’t quite get my fingers- Snff snff!- to move the way they need to, and it’s too hot to have my hair in my face,” she requested, pitiful-looking eyes shimmering under the light of her ceiling lamp.

“Of course,” Alastor said, reaching out and gently pulling Carmilla’s locks into a loose french braid which he secured with a rubber band before draping the braid over her shoulder, “There we are, will that suffice?”

“That’s great,” Carmilla sighed, “I think I’m going to take a nap now… Khff! KHFF!- Thank you, Alastor… and thank you for returning my book.”

“My pleasure, Carmilla,” Alastor replied with a warm smile.

“I hope you don’t catch this- SnFF! SnRKK!... I-IHH’KtSshcHUHh!- it’s awful,” Carmilla said, her voice hoarse as she curled up in bed, cuddling up to one of her pillows as her eyelids drooped.

“I hope so too,” Alastor sighed, hurriedly waving goodbye and holding his breath as he rushed out of Carmilla’s bedroom door and out of the factory’s rear exit.

Finally alone, Carmilla snickered to herself, reaching for her television remote that was on her nightstand and turning on the flat screen that sat on the wall opposite her bed.

“This week’s episode of ‘I Didn’t Fuck Your Husband- YOU Fucked MY Husband!’ is brought to you by VoxTech! Trust us with your Entertainment!”

“Ohhh yes,” Carmilla cheered softly before blowing her ‘nose’ desperately with a handful of tissues, “it almost makes being sick worth it.”

Finally in the open, able to breathe the dubiously clean air and free of all of his obligations for the day, Alastor decided to head home, uncertain of how many flu-riddled people he might run into if he tried to stop at a bar for a drink or attempted to go shopping.

“Better the plague urchins you know than the urchins you don’t, I suppose,” Alastor sighed, walking briskly down the sidewalk when he saw a familiar figure stumbling out of a bar, red-faced and clumsily struggling to stay on his own two feet.

“You’re not kicking me out- Snf!- I’m kicking you out! I don’t have to take thisss… I’m the king!”

‘Oh. my. Goodness. This is almost too rich,’

Alastor grabbed Lucifer by one of his shirt sleeves, leaning down to meet the king of Hell’s eyes, “Your Majesty, it’s a pleasure, as always,” he said with the widest shit-eating grin imaginable, ruffling Lucifer’s messy hair.

“Wha? Ohh… it’sss you, I remember you- Snff!- you’re one of my… my daughter’s little friends!” Lucifer giggled, pinching Alastor’s cheek, “The obnoxious one with the yellow enamel that I hate!”

Alastor almost reflexively shut his mouth to hide his teeth, before remembering that he didn’t necessarily care what the penguin-sized monarch thought of his dental hygiene.

“W-what’re you doing here? Those assholes at the bar won’t make me a virgin Blue Gin Fizz… sNff! Told me virgin drinkss are for pussies,” Lucifer scoffed, tripping on a gap in the sidewalk panels and falling on his rear, struggling to stand up again afterwards.

“Mhm, virgin seems wise, considering you’re already drunk,” Alastor scoffed, flicking Lucifer in the center of his face.

“Wha?! No! I am… I’m… I am not drunk,” Lucifer replied, pouting indignantly, “I wanted… wanted a virgin drink ‘cause I was craving a Blue Fizz but I don’t feel well and I was scared that- Snrk!- having gin would make it worse.”

Alastor hung onto Lucifer’s words, raising an eyebrow, “Elaborate,” he instructed, noticing that Lucifer’s face was shiny with sweat to accompany the flush rouging his cheeks.

“M-my throat hurts, and I feel all queasy,” Lucifer rambled, clutching his stomach, “Like I just got off a roller coaster… an’ my back hurts… E-eh’tshhuhw! EH’Tshhhue! E-Eh’Pchhew!”

Alastor hummed to himself, kneeling down to Lucifer’s level and placing a curious palm against his forehead, “Is this why you’ve been secretive about your comings and goings at the hotel?” he asked, watching as Lucifer nearly dozed off when his burning skin met Alastor’s cool hand.

“No, I was… I was- Eehh’P-CHEW! Eh’Pchhew!- Uchh… Snrk!- I was looking for a suit to wear to the summit, haven’t cleaned out my closet in years so it took me a while,” Lucifer said, gently nuzzling his face against Alastor’s palm, “Your hand is so cold… ‘s nice.”

“Interesting,” Alastor scoffed, moving his hand away and reluctantly hoisting Lucifer into his arms, “Well, the summit has been postponed for the time being, so I think I’ll be taking you with me.”

“Wh-where?” Lucifer asked, coughing into a loose fist and groaning at the throbbing pain in his throat.

“Back to the hotel, obviously,” Alastor said, “You’re feverish and in no shape to look after yourself… and I doubt stumbling down the sidewalk in broad daylight would be beneficial for your ‘image’.”

Lucifer briefly considered putting up a fight, but instead opted to give in, resting his head against Alastor’s shoulder and trying not to fall asleep.

“E-Ehh’PsSshuue! Eh’PpSsCHEW!”

“Gesundheit,” Alastor said, shoving down his visceral disgust.

“Thank you… snff!” Lucifer replied, his entire body being overtaken by an aggressive chill as Alastor walked back to the hotel. The overwhelmed and feverish king shivered, chewing on his tongue to keep his teeth from chattering.

“Are you alright?” Alastor inquired, feeling a bit of pity swirling amidst the fear of germs and contempt, Lucifer was so small, and looked so… delicate in this state, it was strange to observe.

Lucifer shook his head, “I’m cold,” he complained, rubbing his upper arms in an attempt to warm himself, in spite of his face still being slick with sweat from his fever.

“Well, your body is so warm that it’s scorching the fabric on my coat,” Alastor said, before quietly taking off his coat and draping it over Lucifer, “Better?”

“A bit, yeah… ‘m still cold, but this feels nice,” Lucifer mumbled, glancing over at Alastor’s face before wiping away at the trickle of mucus threatening to drip down his face with a tissue from the travel packet tucked away in his back pocket.

After a brisk ten minute stroll, Alastor walked through the hotel’s front doors, Lucifer still curled up in his arms, silent outside of the occasional hoarse cough or spraying sneeze.

“I’m back, and I’ve brought back a pleasant surprise,” Alastor announced upon waving hello to Vaggie- who was wrestling with Niffty to keep her away from Husk.

“What is it?” Vaggie asked, glaring unamused at the bulky item gathered in Alastor’s arms and hidden by his coat. While speaking to Alastor, Vaggie held Niffty up in the air by the back of her dress, akin to the way mother cats correct their kittens by grabbing the scruff of their necks.

Alastor pulled his coat away, causing Lucifer to whine that his source of extra warmth was gone, “I found this stumbling through the streets downtown in a cold sweat after getting kicked out of a bar,” he said with a smug smile.

Vaggie let go of Niffty, reaching a hand out to feel Lucifer’s forehead and nearly squeaking in pain when she pulled her hand back and saw singed skin on her fingers, “I thought you were at your house looking for a suit,” she said to Lucifer, visibly puzzled.

“Looked for it for two days- Ehh’PSschew! Eh’PXxhtiew!- couldn’t find it,” Lucifer mumbled, blinking in an attempt to get his vision to focus, only able to make out the colors and vague shape of Vaggie’s form, but unable to see make a recognizable image out of her face, “You look different, Maggie.”

“Vaggie,”

“Oh, oh yeah- yeah… Eh’PXxh-Shhew! Eh’PsSHhuue!- euch… my head hurts,” Lucifer complained, rubbing at his eyes with his palms in an attempt to ease the pounding in his skull.

“Niffty, go grab some more blankets, pillows, and sheets so Lucifer can join the flu quarantine zone down here, please” Vaggie requested, watching as Niffty hurriedly sprinted away to the linen closet and came back with an armful of materials.

“Flu? No, nooo way- SnFF! Snff-snff!- I’m fiiine- Khff! KHFF!- I jus’ feel a little sore… and tired… and cold… and my- m-myy-YeEhh’PpSshew! Eh’PChiew!” Lucifer let loose a damp sniffle after his sneezing interrupted his rant, and he shivered, burying his hands under his arms in an attempt to fend off the spine-tingling chill.

Vaggie didn’t even look up from her position rearranging cushions on one of the loveseats in the parlor, creating another makeshift bed out of the loveseat to the left of the sofa and smoothing out the sheets. “High fever, runny or stuffy nose, cough, chills, muscle aches, fatigue… if that’s not the flu I don’t know what is,” she said.

Lucifer sighed, snapping his fingers and prompting a wave of light to envelop him, changing his sweat-dampened streetwear into a cozy pair of silk pajamas patterned with blue bubbles and tiny ducks, accompanied by a matching pair of aqua blue fuzzy socks. The garments were nice and warm, as though they were fresh out of the dryer.

“Awwww, how adorable,” Alastor teased, ruffling Lucifer’s blonde locks again.

“Shut up!” Lucifer huffed, folding his arms as he slowly let Vaggie guide him to his makeshift bed, tucking him under a soft grey duvet and propping him up using an extra pillow, the comforting environment making him stretch out with a subdued yawn, “Mmm… snFF!- thank you, Vaggie.”

“Of course, you deserve to feel comfortable while you’re sick,” Vaggie said, smoothing out the duvet and placing a damp cloth onto Lucifer’s forehead, suppressing the urge to gasp when the cool water hissed and steamed upon making contact with the devil’s pale skin, “I have to get some things done and figure out what I’m making for dinner tonight, but before I go, do you need anything?”

Lucifer sniffled, tugging the blankets further up to his chest, “Could I have a glass of apple juice?” he paused to cough, a dry, hacking cough that sounded like it scraped his throat on the way out, “Sorry…Khff-khff!- I’m thirsty.”

“Of course, I’ll be right back… you and Charlie both like apple juice, it’s sweet,” Vaggie said, chuckling to herself as she left the room and came back with a glass of ice-cold apple juice, setting it down on the end table next to the loveseat where Lucifer was reclining, “There we go.”

“Charlie… I miss her,” Lucifer said with a yawn as he took a few sips of his apple juice, “Wonder where she is…E-EHh’PSsCHEW!”

Alastor laughed, his eyes growing watery as he fought to regain his composure, clasping both hands over his mouth as his ceaseless giggling shook his shoulders.

“Wha? What’s so funny?!” Lucifer asked, “SnFF- Snff! Uch…”

“Lucifer, she’s over there,” Vaggie said, snickering alongside Alastor as she gestured to the makeshift two-level sofa bed next to the loveseat. Husk and Charlie were both sleeping in their respective spots on the bed, Charlie occasionally breaking her pattern of congested breathing to cough into her pillow.

“Charlie!” Lucifer cheered, grinning and struggling in an attempt to sit up straighter so he could reach his arms out, only for Vaggie to press a hand to his chest, shooting him a firm and unamused glare.

“Shhh,” Vaggie whispered, “You can talk to her later, but right now, they both need to rest without anyone trying to bother them- that includes you, Niffty, get down.”

“Hmph!” Niffty huffed, rolling her eyes as she dropped to the floor from her spot tip-toeing on the back of the couch, “It’s boring watching them when they aren’t moving.”

“They’re sick people, not zoo animals, Niffty, cut it out,” Vaggie scolded, grabbing the back of Niffty’s dress and pulling her away from the sofa, “If you’re bored, you can come help me make dinner.”

“Okay!” Niffty cheered, pleased enough with a distraction from her deep impulsive desire to yank on Husk’s ears or play with Charlie’s hair.

“I’ll be in the kitchen, feel free to call out if you need anything,” Vaggie said, leaving the room with Niffty gleefully skipping after her.

Lucifer took another sip of his apple juice and yawned, “I’m so tired… but I can’t get comfortable enough to fall asleep,” he grumbled, folding his arms, “Everything hurts.”

“I know, it must be so hard to get comfortable,” Alastor said teasingly, walking over to the loveseat and smoothing out Lucifer’s hair before massaging his scalp, causing Lucifer to lean back against his pillows, relaxing with a sigh as the repetitive motion eased his throbbing headache, “Poor thing, there we go… much better.”

“Mmm… KHFFF- khfff!- you’re making fun of me, but… mm m, that feels great,” Lucifer croaked out, still trembling a bit from febrile chills. His eyelids drooped as Alastor’s fingers massaged a bit deeper into his skin, gently kneading in little circles.

Lucifer’s breathing grew softer outside of the occasional cough, and eventually he rolled onto his side, clutching one of the pillows on his makeshift bed and dozing off into a light slumber, snoring in a manner not dissimilar to Husk’s sinuses doing their best impression of a broken chainsaw.

“There, nice and quiet… to an extent,” Alastor mumbled to himself, his ears twitching at the sound of Husk and Lucifer’s snoring. Finally free from the distraction of caretaking, Alastor shuddered, a chill radiating up his spine when he remembered that he was now completely covered in germs.

“Euch!” Alastor gagged, reaching into his pocket and squirting a bit of hand sanitizer into his mouth, swishing it around and swallowing it as though he was sampling wine, “forget a shower, I need to cover myself in lye and dry off with a flamethrower.”

Hurriedly walking out of the parlor and heading upstairs to clean himself off, Alastor paused, gripping the railing of the staircase and questioning what had interrupted his panicked train of thought.

“Hh-Hhnk’KZzhht-shhew!”

Alastor sniffled, scrubbing his nose with his handkerchief before fanning a hand in front of his face.

“Hihh…h-hihh! HNK’KXxht-shew! ‘Shhiew! ‘SHHIEW!”

Alastor blew his nose, feeling the urge to sneeze grow dormant as he folded up his handkerchief and tucked it back into his pocket.

Returning to his state of panic, Alastor continued on his path up the stairs, now managing two layers of panic at once.

He swallowed experimentally, then swallowed again. Was his throat sore or did he just need a drink of water? He gently pressed the back of his hand against his neck and cheeks, attempting to gauge whether or not his skin felt warm, only to panic again, hurriedly returning his arms to his sides.

‘Don’t touch your face, idiot, don’t touch your face. If you aren’t ill already- which you aren’t…definitely not- you don’t want to risk it by rubbing your germy hands on your face’ Alastor thought to himself, his fingers twitching with anticipation as he hurried into his room, shutting the door behind him and anxiously stripping so that he could take a hot shower and spray himself down with disinfectant.

Suddenly, halfway through undressing, Alastor’s breath began to hitch as he was folding his coat.

“Hehh…H-hihh! Hhh!-” Alastor’s eyes began to water, and he let out a watery sniffle before pulling his handkerchief out of his coat pocket and pressing it to his nose, “-Hh’KzZhtiew! Hnk’KZzshiew! Hnk’KzZhht-CHEW! ‘sSchiew! ‘SchHIEW!”

Alastor finished undressing, each article of clothing removed was accompanied by another wet sniffle and occasional sneeze. Finally nude, Alastor swallowed, wincing upon realizing that his throat felt scratchy.

“Oh… Fuck,” Alastor complained, tugging at a piece of his hair in frustration before shoving his anguish down and turning on his heels to go take his shower.

He was fine.

Everything was fine.

“HNK’KzZhht-CHEW!”

Sort of.

#ha/zb/in ho/tel #snz #snz fic #snz kink #illness kink #gingey.rtf

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