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obae-me · 4 years

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A Taste of Your Own Medicine

Author’s Note: I finally did it! One of my bigger projects finished! And this is the most ambitious thing I’ve posted in a while! It’ll be my biggest post for sure! I truly, truly hope you guys enjoy this. I hope this sickfic can make you feel a bit better during these times. (*slaps fic* This bad boy can fit so many cuddles in it). Thank you all for your encouragement and support, it’s honestly what helped me get this finished! Also, I swear I’ve been over this thing more than thirty times to try and catch mistakes, but it’s a lot so if I missed mistakes I apologize.

Word Count: 18,300

Warnings: Blood, Medication Use, Vomiting, I’m not a doctor in any way shape or form, so please don’t take any of this as a personal guide.

As Always, Read Safely, And Please Enjoy!

Lucifer, then Satan and Mammon. After that came Beel and Belphie, followed up by Levi. Lastly Asmo. All of them, every single one, had fallen ill. Try as they may, none of them had been safe, and you’d been the main one working to nurse them back to health despite you knowing nothing about caring for demons. It had been...what was the right word? Grueling? No. Enjoyable? Well you couldn’t quite say that either. It had its ups and downs. Working for about a month straight on little sleep wasn’t exactly a dream job, but the affection and actions you’d seen were priceless. The pictures on your phone and the memories in your head would keep your heart warm for the rest of your life, but you could go no further. You were done. Done with being a nurse. Done with restless nights. Done with this illness.

The House of Lamentation had finally begun to feel normal again, normal except for your persistent fatigue accompanied by strange shifts in your body temperature. It started off small at first, you had hardly noticed. Unfortunately, it had grown rather rapidly, impeding your day-to-day life. The fuzzy thoughts in the back of your mind knew that something was unnatural. Your body shouldn’t feel like this. Yet, afraid of facing the truth, or hoping you were just overreacting, you insisted that just sleeping it off would bring you back to normal.

Only... you should’ve known. You should’ve seen the signs. The sneezing, the breathlessness you felt with the simplest of things, the discomfort settling in your bones. What were you going to do? Well, you figured the best thing to do was move onward, acting like nothing was amiss. Fake it till you make it. Whatever it was would go away on its own, it had to.

But it wouldn’t, and as much as they would refuse to admit it, each demonic member of the household had grown fond of being fussed over by you. Tugging you in all directions, demanding constant attention, wearing your energy down to dust. Although, if you were being entirely honest, they tended to do that regardless. However, after being treated so specially, their neediness grew tenfold. Thus, without giving yourself a break, every morning you ended up feeling worse than the day before, and it was only going downhill from there. Perhaps you should’ve told them, nipping it in the bud before it had a change to blossom into something terrible. In retrospect, that should’ve been the obvious path to take. Yet, driven by some desire you couldn’t place, you pushed yourself so far past the breaking point that your own body had to stop you.

Waking up to your alarm in the early hours of this particular morning was more difficult than you’d like to admit. Removing the blankets might as well have been pushing stones off your body. Your limbs felt stiff, gravity’s pull was stronger than it should’ve been, and moving forward was like pushing through waves of molasses. However, you went forward, still fooled under some grand delusion that you’d feel better once you freshened up. Gathering up a change of clothes and a towel for your morning shower, you stumbled out of your room. Getting to the bathroom had been a blur, the only thing you could recall was consistently leaning your weight against the wall to keep your legs steady. You’d met no one in your path, assuming they must’ve all already been in the dining hall, the faint smell of breakfast foods flooding the hallways. It made your stomach churn.

Before anyone could see you in this downright pathetic state, you entered the bathroom, shutting the door behind you and locking it. You took a moment to catch your breath and press your forehead against the cold wood of the door. It felt amazing against your skin. But you couldn’t linger, you had to get ready for RAD. As you turned, you came up to the sink, settling your items on the side of the bowl. It was then you saw your face in the mirror for the first time that morning. Biting your lip, you splashed some water on your face, hoping it would wash away some of the hints of sickness-- the not-sickness...you weren’t sick. Right? You couldn’t have caught the demon illness, right? Was it possible? Your head was throbbing, the heart in your chest pounding in panic. What were you going to do? You couldn’t miss classes, you couldn’t let anyone know, you couldn’t be a burden. Brush your teeth, you thought. Get ready, play it off. It’s not that bad. It’s not that bad. Stop overreacting.

Showering felt nice, it was the only thing so far that let you feel some peace. The steamy hot water released some of the tension in your temples and lungs. Although, the intense heat made you lightheaded, and a single little misstep in the shower had you almost plummet to the floor. Shaking, gasping for air, desperately attempting to cling to the slick stone wall, you slowly sat on the wet tiles, leaning your body back so the stream of water landed directly on your chest. The comfort almost coaxed you back into sleep, but before you could fall into slumber, you jolted. How long had you been in there? Five minutes? Half an hour? You could forget about washing your head today. Crawling out of the shower, the frigid air burnt the inside of your nose, shuddering you with a few sneezes. Not good. You rushed to dry yourself off and pull your uniform on. Before you headed down to the dining hall, you blew your nose, shook your head, and prepared yourself to sound as normal as possible. Somehow you managed not to stumble down the stairs, something you were thankful for. Maybe it wasn’t as severe as you thought it was.

Arguing could be heard past the hall doors. That wasn’t too rare, it’d become tradition almost, to the point where being met with an unclamorous silence was somewhat threatening. What was it this time? Mammon stealing something? Beel eating something? Belphie not doing something?

It was hard to comprehend the words, but you could make out the important pieces. “I bought that for ya, so it… … … that I took it back!” Mammon growled.

“Once you… … … it was mine!” Asmo shrieked. “It wasn’t yours to sell … … … buy it in the first place!”

Ah, so it was another Mammon related issue, you didn’t need to be a hardcore gambler to win that bet. Raised voices didn’t do any good for your head, the pressure in your eardrums throbbing. You stayed silent as you slid inside, or at least you tried to stay silent. Instead, you accidently made your presence prominent as you shut the doors too harshly behind you. Heads turned all at once, your knees threatening to turn to jelly under the gaze.

“Is something the matter, MC?” Lucifer asked, the first one able to sense something wrong. He always knew. You were never able to hide anything from him. However, the fact that you’d been able to play things off in his presence up till now settled a sort of twisted pride inside you. You blamed Pride himself for his bad influence. Lowering his cup from his lips, he raised an eyebrow.

You mustered up a usual grin. “Just...tired,” you lied. Had your throat always been this sore? And was it the table full of warm food, or was it terribly hot in here? Not the healing sort of temperature either, but rather the sticky suffocating heat that formed waves in your vision. Or maybe the room was swirling on its own? Tugging at the collar of your shirt, you took a single step forward, attempting to walk again. You lowered your head, turning away from the eldest, remaining as inconspicuous as possible for fear he’d take one good look at you and expose your troubles. Lucifer was not convinced, shifting his gaze between his morning cup of coffee and your strange stature. For the time being, he dropped his questions, lying in wait for you to exude any signs that you were lying.

Doing your best not to trip up, you eventually sat down at the dining table, a spot left open for you between Belphie--who was sitting up asleep--and Asmo. The demon of lust luckily didn’t seem to notice your weaker state, continuing on his tirade against his older brother. “Mammon, I swear to whatever forces may be listening that if you don’t get it back I will ruin you, you hear me?!”

“Yeah yeah, you can try!” Mammon scoffed.

Asmo spoke again, his words blocked out by the sudden ringing in your ears, the shrill noise spurring on pain behind your eyes. As you bit the inside of your cheek, you squeezed your eyes closed till the painful sound faded away. Only, opening them back up now seemed to make everything worse. The light was harsh, far too harsh, blinding rays striking off every reflective surface. Your vision started to swim, blurring the features of those around you. Squinting, you groaned a bit to yourself before lifting a utensil from the table, attempting to eat some of the breakfast in front of you before anyone became suspicious. Every bite sank heavily to the bottom of your stomach.

“Will the two of you be quiet, for sin’s sake?!” Satan boomed, his wrath peeking through his composure as his brothers started to take their spat too far, interrupting what should’ve been a quiet morning. Although, when had that ever happened? Magic spilling from their fingertips, demon forms exposed, Mammon and Asmo were each ready to brawl it out at any moment. The ruckus finally managed to stir Belphie who was visibly irritated.

The miniscule amount of food you had eaten started to already stir sickeningly within you. The sweltering heat you had felt before stripped away in a moment, a frightening chill creeping over your body. Before you could think, you got to your feet, breathless, heart pounding as an overwhelming presence of something agonizing forced you to move. Getting up too quickly caused the whole world to rock, your head doing somersaults. Lucifer obviously was now convinced everything was far from fine as you swayed on your own two feet, the legs of his chair screeching against the hardwood floor as he stood. Everyone in the room quickly went quiet, all eyes on you as you fumbled. The weight of their attention seemed to push you further over the edge. “It’s...I’m…” You needed to move, to be anywhere but here, so you staggered a few steps away from the group.

You heard the thud before you felt it, not quite comprehending what it meant to feel the floor fall out from beneath you as the world shifted sideways. The area became a chorus of shouts as seven demons called out your name. You didn’t fully blackout. Your consciousness was too stubborn to be snuffed out like that, but you couldn’t fully talk or move either.

A pair of arms wrapped around you, bringing you close to their body. Despite being right next to you, somehow everything still felt so far away, like you were experiencing everything secondhand. The smoothness of leather touched your cheek before the glove was supposedly discarded, cold skin touching your face. “They’re burning up,” Lucifer announced, the undertones of his voice just barely wavering, or perhaps your sense of sound was just as skewed as your sight had been. He flipped his hand over, his knuckles brushing against your forehead. You tried opening your eyes to look at him, but it was next to impossible.

“MC?! Hey, what’s with you?!” Mammon shouted, two hands squeezing your shoulders. The panic in his words was apparent. “What’s wrong with them?!”

“I think they’re sick,” Belphie chimed.

Satan sounded distant, but his voice still drifted to your ears. “Should I alert Simeon and Solomon?”

Without warning, you sensed yourself being lifted off the floor, the sudden movement jerking the last strands of your consciousness back as you lurched into a black weightlessness. You swam through the fog, trying to pick back up the voices in the room.

“...the human world to get a few things,” someone spoke. As you shifted your body, the people went silent, but not for long.

“They’re awake!”

“Thank heavens…”

“Oi, everyone get off ‘em!”

Somehow, you found the energy to open your eyes. There were no arms holding you and the dining room was far gone. You were now in bed, in your room, surrounded by demons, angels, and the only other human in the Devildom. The confusion of the blank spot in your memory shot panic through your nerves, not to mention it was uncomfortable to be stared down like this. “What…?” You gasped, trying to sit up in bed. A washcloth slid off your forehead and down your face. Someone’s gentle hands guided you back into a lying position, taking the rag and putting it back in its place.

Lucifer had a chair pulled up to your bedside, lines popping up between his eyebrows in worry. He finished pressing you back up against your pillow, pulling the blankets back over your chest. “Don’t move too much,” he ordered, his words harsh but his eyes soft. “You collapsed in the dining hall.”

Well, that part you could recall. They must’ve brought you here. Despite it only feeling like a second, you must’ve been out long enough for the other exchange students to arrive. “Is-” You interrupted yourself with some coughs, quickly turning your head into your pillow. Even just speaking left your lungs weak, but you had a question. “Is it…?

“It’s not what the brothers had if that’s what you’re asking,” Solomon nodded. “You as a human couldn’t catch that particular illness. Although if you had, you probably wouldn’t survive. So lucky you, right?” Levi nearly dropped to his knees at that prospect, eyes wide with fear, as if he wasn’t convinced that you were lucky at all. You had to admit, you felt far from it. Many of the other siblings shot the sorcerer a dirty glare, everyone’s nerves strangely on edge. Solomon closed his eyes and laughed a bit. “Aha, but like I said, it’s a very mortal disease. Just a cold or the case of the flu from what I can tell.”

“Just?” Mammon growled, barking out his opinions like an angry guard dog. “They’re lying here looking like they're two seconds away from pushin’ up daisies and you make guesses? You’ve been acting so calm and treating this like it ain’t that serious! And to be honest, it’s kinda tickin’ me off!” He took a few serious steps towards Solomon, shoulders squared, ready to fight. Luke ducked behind Simeon’s body for protection, but there was no need. Before he took things too far, Mammon growled and resumed his brisk pace around your room.

“I hate to agree with him,” Asmo started, “But Mammon’s right.” The fourth-born frowned, some of his outward sparkle dulled with concern. Every hint of his and Mammon’s dispute had faded away. “This isn’t a joke! You have to do something, Solomon! Save them!” Asmo flung himself over the sorcerer begging and pleading, reacting as if you were on your deathbed. Mammon pushed a haughty breath of air between his teeth, turning on his heels to sit beside you on the bed. His nervous energy could hardly be contained, erratically adjusting the blanket over your body as one of his legs bounced up and down rapidly.

Solomon shook his head, brushing Asmo off of him. “I was simply trying to lighten the mood.” You caught a flicker of amusement in his eyes as he watched these powerful demons on the brink of falling to pieces. “If treated properly, it shouldn't be fatal. Plenty of monitoring and rest and the body should heal on its own. Of course if it worsens or persists, then a doctor might be required, but we can cross that bridge when we get to it. Although, like I was saying, it would be best if I went to the human world to at least get some proper medicine. We wouldn’t want our MC here to suffer the full brunt of the symptoms, and I doubt the remedies here would have a desired effect.”

With that, Lucifer sighed, lifting his chin to address the sorcerer. “I shall accompany you to the human world. We’ll get what we need and come right back, understood?”

Either the demon of pride’s stern glare wasn’t at its peak today or Solomon was generally unaffected. The sorcerer looked past him and right at you with a grin on his face. “He gets rather overbearing when it comes to you doesn’t he?”

“We’re leaving,” Lucifer huffed, his arms wide to shepherd everyone out of your room. Several of his siblings cried out in protest. “Everyone out! The last thing MC needs is the bunch of you bothering them.” The only one he didn’t tug along was Simeon, the angel turning down the light and approaching you as soon as everyone had gone.

A short laugh rumbled in his throat. “They sure do care about you a lot,” he smiled. He took Mammon’s previous spot on the bed by you, settled by your hip. He discovered the bump in the blanket that served as your arm under the covers. Slowly, he ran his hand up and down over it. “What a terrible thing for you to be this sick.” It wasn’t often the angel frowned, but in this case he appeared deeply troubled, as if he was taking your pain as his own. “I can help you fall asleep if you’d like me to. Solomon warned me against using too much magic against your weakened immune system, but I should be able to let you sleep peacefully.” He waited for a response, not moving forward with anything till you nodded your head slowly. Golden light rushed to the ends of his fingers, the soft skin of his fingertips brushing against your eyelids to close them. A shudder ran down your spine, your own body tingling, and you wondered if it was his magic or simply just the tender gesture. “Rest well, MC,” Simeon whispered. “Feel better.” And then just like he suggested, your mind quickly got swept along into a blissful sleep.

Angelic magic or not, it didn’t seem to hold back the fever for long. Even in your dreams, all you could feel was frigid fire. Your nerves were fried, unable to tell if you were freezing to death or boiling. And the dreams...the images flashing in your mind of threats you couldn’t understand, dangers that filled you with panic. Someone was uttering words to you that you couldn't understand. All you could do was try to run, try to escape. Everything about you was screaming.

Through the mist of sickness, you could finally make out the voice. “...gotta...can’t...help…” After a few moments of the whimpering and the distress, you were alarmed to figure out it was the sound of your own voice. But you couldn’t even feel yourself saying the words.

“I’m here,” another person muttered past the darkness. “It’s alright…” The stranger shushed, trying to sound sweet to cover up the panic in their tone. “The one time I need that pompous jerk around and he’s gone. Figures.” You could hear a few pages being turned, a frustrated click of a tongue followed after. “Why didn’t I look this up before? Why wasn’t I prepared?” The anger from the other being in the room seemed to affect you. You thrashed a little, kicking your feet as if it would help push off the suffocating agony. Two hands clamped down on your shoulders, pinning you to the bed. “Calm down...Please calm down...I need to calm down.” Once you went back to being mostly still, more pages were turned. “Have the afflicted wear light clothing. I can do that.” A weight was shed off of you as the blanket pulled back. Air struck your sweat covered skin, sending chills down your body. You began to tremble. The front of your RAD uniform was tugged at, someone working at the buttons to shed the outer layer off your body.

“...won’t...s...sor...is…hah…” Your speech was broken, and even if you knew what you wanted to say, your mouth wouldn’t let you. Someone took your hands, lifting your arm to let gravity help assist in removing the sleeve. You could feel it slip before fully crashing against the bed like a dead weight, free of the thick uniform fabric. The same was done with the other arm. Then a hand supported the back of your neck, lifting your upper body just enough until the extra layer was yanked out from under you. Removing the jacket had been like opening an oven. Heat from your body suddenly escaped into the room, no longer trapped behind unnecessary insulation. Even in your rather deranged state, you could feel your shirt sticking to your skin. Now you seemed to be shuddering harder.

“Hydration...medication...Curses, Lucifer, get back here...Nothing...there’s nothing here!” The individual grunted in a growl of vexation, a frantic flutter of paper soaring further away before something heavy struck the ground far from you. You managed to stop moaning, switching to feverish panting. Your company tutted at you again, stroking the top of your head tenderly. “Can you even hear me at all? Breathe, MC, breathe.” It’s embarrassing to admit it took you much longer than you would’ve liked to remember how to control your breathing. Once you took some deeper inhales, you heard your caretaker sigh in relief. “Good…Well, not good, but better.”

Reality had sunken in almost completely now, just covered with a thin layer of dreamy haze. You cracked your eyes open, a mess of blonde hair and worried green eyes looking down at you. “S-Sa...tan,” you murmured.

His hand stroked your head a few more times before grabbing the wet rag again and dotting it across your face. The energy you needed to retain consciousness was quickly fading. Satan’s hands grasped your face. “Hold on! Look at me again, come on.” With every ounce of power you had left, you lifted your eyelids as much as you could. Still half-lidded, you only caught glimpses of his green sweater as he slid one hand under your back, lifting you up gently. Your head bobbed down, chin against your chest as Satan settled your back against your headboard. Gentle fingers lifted your head, some plastic brought to your lips. “You have to stay hydrated, drink just a little.” You wrapped your lips around the straw, sucking water into your body until you felt like you were going to be sick again. Satan moved to put the cup back down, and in that time he made the mistake of letting you go. Gravity tugged your body down, nearly slipping out of bed, threatening to fall to the floor. Thankfully, the demon of wrath was there to catch you. Head resting against his shoulder, you breathily let out a ‘thank you’ that was probably closer to a slurred series of sounds rather than a statement.

His arms wrapped tightly around you. “Don...lea…ve...”

Then everything went black again.

When consciousness flooded back to your mind, you had no idea how long it had been. Turning to your other side, you rubbed your head against the pillow. Everything was still much too warm. You slipped an arm under your heavy headrest, hoping to get to the cooler side. Your pillow twitched. Your pillow...was moving? Up. Down. Slow. Rising with steady breaths. You woke up, shifting enough in your spot to alert the person in your bed. Placing a book to the side, Satan rubbed one of your shoulders. Taking a moment to realize what position you were in, you felt your stomach flop once you came to the conclusion that you were lying against Satan’s legs, clinging to his clothes, hand against his lower back, head resting against his stomach. “You alright?” Satan wondered, pressing a hand to your forehead. You didn’t need to speak for him to know the answer. Not really. “I’ll admit, you had me worried for a while there.” He sat up fully, your head sliding back to your pillow--your actual pillow. You quickly retracted your death grip on him, hugging your arms close to your body. If there could be any more heat in your cheeks, there would be.

Shame creeped into your bones. “S...sorry.”

His expression brightened a small amount, pleased with the fact that you could speak mostly clearly now, even if your voice did sound ragged. He pulled the blanket back over your shoulders and up near your chin. “Don’t worry about that, just worry about feeling better.” He twisted his body, grabbing something off your nightstand again. “Here, have some more water. Everything I’ve read says that you need to stay hydrated at all times.” You dug your elbow into the mattress, lifting your head enough to not choke as you drank. As Satan lowered the glass, you noticed it was almost completely empty. You didn’t remember drinking that much. Exactly how delusional had you been earlier? How much had you forgotten? You downed the rest of the drink in small sips, lying back down when you were done.

“Did…” You squeaked. “Did I do anything…”

“Weird?” Satan finished your sentence for you. “So you don’t remember all of it, I take it?” You shook your head. “You started moaning, hyperventilating. Once you calmed down a bit you collapsed on me and refused to let me go. I figured since I was going to monitor you anyway I would…” A small blush formed on his cheeks. “Hold you till Lucifer got home.”

You looked away from his face, still a bit self conscious. You decided to change the subject. “He’s still gone?”

Satan’s lips almost curled into a little snarl. “Yes. I have no idea why he’s decided to take his sweet time to-” He cut himself off short, clearing his throat and removing any traces of rage. “Don’t worry about him, I’m sure he’ll be home soon with the medicine.” You felt the top of your head being pet again, tempting you to close your eyes. “Until then, is there anything I can get for you?” You shook your head once more, allowing yourself to indulge in your impulses, moving closer to his body. Despite seeming mostly unaffected by the intimacy earlier, he took in a short sharp breath, lifting his head to the side to hide part of his face. His hand was near your face, tauntingly close, reminding you of how chill his skin was and how good it felt to have him stroke your head. You closed your eyes, bringing your head forward enough to bump against his wrist. A stifled gasp rang through the air before he took a deep breath. “It’s unfortunate that you had to be this sick to…” His sentence trailed off, his hand that you’d ran into pressed against your burning cheeks before brushing against your hair, running down the length of locks before starting again. “Conserve your energy,” he whispered. “Go back to bed.”

“... … how are they?”

“...still feverish… …sleeping for a long time…”

“I’ll take over… … get some rest.”

Soft voices somehow roused you from your deep sleep, the final click of your door leaving you awake. You flitted your eyes open, immediately upset with how dry and crusty they felt. It didn’t help you feel any better when you noticed Lucifer by your bed, busy observing a small cardboard container. He was quick to notice you move, turning his head towards you as you wiped the grime from your eyes with the back of your finger. How embarrassing. Having to be sick, weak, vulnerable, positively distasteful, and in front of the people you thought highly of no less. Memories of Satan flooded back into your mind. Would they all think less of you after this? For how low you’d fallen? For how weak you were? You couldn’t let that happen. What had happened with Satan couldn’t be helped, but from here on out you would do your best to be independent. You adjusted to sit up.

“What did I say about moving too much?” He scolded, his hand outstretched to settle you back down. You swept his gesture away, sitting up fully and focusing on the item in his hand. A regular box of human world medicine. You reached out for it, and despite being annoyed you’d swatted him away, he handed it to you. The tones of his voice casually shifted from his typical strict nature to low and sweet. “Is...this the one you need?” You glanced it over. Gel pills, daytime and nighttime ones, for cold and flu symptoms. You nodded. He seemed relieved. “It doesn’t happen often, but I was glad for Solomon’s help in picking the proper medicines,” he admitted. “Who knew humans needed so many medications? And you even have entire shops dedicated to them.” He shook his head as a deep frown formed on his face as if he just realized how fragile and complicated human bodies could be. You sighed, agreeing with him in your mind. You were thankful he managed to bring this back though, for as much as you hated proving he was right, you desperately wanted the medicine to ease your aching symptoms. You tried prying the flap open, annoyed when it refused to tear apart. From out of the corner of your eye, you swore you spotted the smallest smirk cross over Lucifer’s face. “Would you like some help?” You grumbled, turning your torso away from him as you attempted again to open the simple package. In slight sadistic fashion, he simply observed you struggle for another few minutes before you tore the box open. Even just working on that had you nearly breathless, but you scrounged up a little triumphant grin. Pulling out one of the bubble sheets, you settled the box back in your lap which Lucifer quickly picked up, returning to read the details printed on the back. “No more than four doses a day,” he announced. “You can take two of those pills now and then wait for four hours before you can take any more.” He read all that out with the confidence of a doctor who knew exactly what he was prescribing. “I want you to check in with me before you decide to take more, understood?”

You desperately wanted to be snippy about it, but the energy for defense was long gone. Plus, you knew that he needed to have his hands on the reins at all times, and his stubbornness was especially bad when it was a situation he had no control over. “Okay,” you squeaked, pressing your thumb tightly against the foil backing until the pills were free. Dumping them out into your palm, you sighed to yourself once you spotted the empty glass of water from earlier. You’d have to go refill it.

As soon as you pushed the blankets back and swung your legs out of bed to stand up, Lucifer tightly gripped your shoulders. Normally, he would’ve reacted before the thought even crossed your mind, but your actions must’ve stunned him more than usual. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Wincing a little, you cleared your throat before you spoke. “I need water.” You tried to get back up, but your weakened strength was no match against Lucifer’s, and he was hardly trying.

“Then let me get some for you.” Your lips parted to utter out a rebuttal but he’d have none of it. He grasped your ankles, pulling your legs back into bed and folding the covers back over the lower half of your body. He pointed a gloved finger at you. “You’re not to move.” He plucked the empty glass off the tabletop, striding out of your door before you could even try to argue. A low groan rumbled in your chest, your lungs convulsing out a few more coughs. By the time you got your breathing managed again, the demon of pride was back in your room, handing you a fresh glass of water. A deeper frown tugged at the corners of his mouth as he watched ripples form in the liquid as your hand shook. Attempting to stabilize your hold only seemed to make it worse. He reached out, his intention to help you drink. Before he could, you popped both pills in your mouth and grasped at the cup with both hands as you brought the rim to your lips, watching his arm fall dejectedly back to his sides. Even the smooth gel coating went down rough, feeling more like two sharp stones scraping the inside of your esophagus. With your nose more stopped up than usual, by the time you were done drinking you were gasping for air, resulting in coughs again, hard enough to nearly make you gag. Lucifer took the cup from you before you could drop it, settling it on your nightstand. You were bowled over, tears streaming from your eyes. Rare panic crossed over Lucifer’s face, rubbing your back till the coughing fit came to an end. He took a deep inhale once it was over. Then he placed his touch over your forehead again, his thumb gently rubbing against your temple. When he retracted, you nearly let a little moan betray your feelings. You’re supposed to be independent, you reminded yourself. Lucifer shifted in his seat a bit, brandishing another item from his pockets. “We got one of these things as well,” he explained, taking the little item between his fingers and squinting to better study it. “He said it would be useful in monitoring your temperature, but...he failed to explain how it worked.”

If you were feeling even just a bit better, you would’ve laughed. Lucifer took the thermometer and pointed the end towards your forehead, his eyebrows raised as he waited for something to happen, only to scowl when nothing did. You let a similar cocky expression coat your face as he was the one to struggle with something so simple this time. If only he knew he had the right idea but the wrong type. He’d gotten one of the older fashioned versions. “This kind goes under my tongue,” you explained.

“Really?” He hummed. “How strange. Seems...messy.” He held the end close to your mouth, his face showing no signs of amusement this time as he waited. You hesitated, your heart beating faster at the emotions swelling in your chest. Independent, independent, independent, you repeated in your mind. Only, you’d caught him in a very impatient mood. With his other hand, he cupped it around your chin, carefully pulling your jaw down till he could slip the end of the thermometer under your tongue. You pressed your lips back together, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. The small device beeped once it got its reading. Lucifer pulled it out and brought it back towards him. “101.4” He ran a frustrated hand through his hair before settling the thermometer down, attempting to guide your body back down in a lying position.

You stopped him, grabbing his wrist, eyes focusing on anything other than his face. “You don’t...have to do this.”

He entertained you, fully capable of pushing you down should he desire it, but he let you keep him in your grasp. His eyes narrowed. “What thing in particular are you talking about?”

Taking as deep of a breath your lungs would allow, you corrected yourself. “You don’t have to take care of me, I mean.” Words strained and cracking, they did little to convince the demon. “I’m well enough to take care of myself. Trust me, I’ve done it plenty before.”

Distrustful and discouraged, he stiffened, tugging his wrist away. “Be that as it may, while you are down here you are my responsibility. It is part of my duty to ensure you are safe and well looked after. Do you expect me to just walk away from my role?”

You’ll admit, it wasn’t very rational, but something other than the fever in you burned. “I’m not an assignment to be written off, Lucifer.”

“You know I didn’t mean that.” His crimson eyes looked down at you for a moment, the air silent between you save for the faint rattling in your chest. Eventually, he spoke back up, the previous forbidding expression gave way to a small smile. He closed his eyes and chuckled a little, taking you aback. “When did you ever get so prideful? Is it too bold to assume it’s my doing?” Then his hand moved forward, unbothered by your past attempt to push him away. He brushed sticky strands of hair away from your face. “If you truly don’t want me here, I will leave.” Your chest seemed to flutter at his words. It wasn’t that you...didn’t want him there. It was that you did. Almost too much. If there was anything you didn’t want, it was to be a hindrance. You knew how busy Lucifer was. His trip to the human world had probably already doubled his workload, and if you were right they’d all skipped classes for your sake, and- “MC.” He cupped your face, the look on his face told you that he knew everything you were thinking. “Not worrying about anything else, not overthinking it, do you want me here, yes or no? A simple question and two simple options.”

“I…” You knew the answer, and he did too, trying to hold back his amusement until he could hear the answer for himself. “If...you...want to.”

He shook his head in a defeated way. “You’re incorrigible, you know that don’t you?” With your acceptance, he took your shoulders, letting you lie down. He took the rag that had fallen off to the side, gently brushing it across your face. Under your eyes, over your cheekbones, under your chin. Then he leaned forward, his upper body resting against your bed, his head propped up under one of his hands. He gazed at you, tracing your jawline with his knuckle. The skin across his cheeks turned a light pink. “Of course I want to be with you. Not a moment goes by that I don’t desire to be at your side.”

The fast acting medicine and the fact that you’d been so distracted by his peaceful touch, you’d totally missed what he’d told you. “Hm?” You sleepily hummed, too focused on how close his body was to yours.

“Nothing,” he mused, making sure you were secure under the covers. “I’ll tell you once you’ve recovered. Sleep now.”

The muscles in your body slowly woke you up, screaming at you to change positions after having slept like a stone for Diavolo-knows how long. Eyes still closed, sleep still foggy on your mind, you turned over in bed. However, even with the smallest amount of alertness you possessed, you were very aware of how...generally upsetting your body felt. Soon it was all you could focus on, forcing you awake. Groaning, mourning the comfort of sleep, you slowly stretched out your weary legs. Your feet pressed against a foreign lump in your bed.

Mammon shot up, uncurling himself from the foot of your bed as he apparently woke up from a nap. “MC!” He crawled forward, placing both of his hands on the side of your face. “How ya feeling?” His sudden energy left you a bit winded, still trying to comprehend him caressing your face so tenderly. He let his arms drop to your shoulders. You shifted under his gaze, shaking your head.

“Like garbage…” Hot, sweaty, gross, you felt uncomfortable in your own skin. Mammon frowned, his blue eyes wide and shimmery. He resembled a puppy for just a second, observing your face for any sort of hope that by some miracle you’d fully recovered. When he saw you were still the worst for wear, he sighed, grabbing the covers around you and tucking it against your legs. Only, the blanket wasn’t one that you owned. Running your hands over the fabric, you noticed that this was one of Lucifer’s blankets. It was lighter and cooler than the blanket you had on before. You took in the rest of your room for a moment, noticing more than one thing out of place. Mammon had been resting on one of Belphie’s pillows, one of his new expensive ones. In fact the pillow you had been sleeping on was replaced with one of Sloth’s. On your nightstand, near your box of medicine and a box of tissues was a little diffuser, one you recognized as Asmo’s. A small plume of steam flushed out of the top, a mild comforting scent spreading throughout the space. A book that wasn’t yours, a replica of some sword draped over your table, and a number of other things that had never been between your walls before were littered here and there. You tilted your head. “Where did these things come from?” You wondered.

Mammon lowered his eyelids, his hands on his hips as he settled into a more comfortable seating position beside you. “Listen, my hands get grabby sometimes when I get anxious.”

You simply blinked at him. “You were worried?”

His sincere expression changed as he frowned, pink touching his cheeks as he shook his head. “W-well of course! Lucifer would make sure I never saw a lick of Grimm again if something happened to you…” His voice turned to a lower mumble. “And what, you thought I wouldn’t be worried after watching you take a spill like that? Had me thinking you’d bit the dust for a second!” His eyes flickered around the room as if he was making sure you two were truly alone. Then he leaned past you, fluffing up the pillow you had been laying on. As he straightened, he pressed his hand against your forehead, his body temperature much warmer than Lucifer’s. “Never make me that worried again, yeah? I...You see...Just don’t, okay?”

You hummed an affirming tone, nodding, a small smile creeping across your mouth. Then after the moment had passed, you shifted in your spot. You felt disgusting even after all that effort to take a shower this morning. Lucifer did say not to move too much, but right now you wanted to be clean more than anything. Pushing back the blankets encouraged a similar reaction to Lucifer’s earlier.

“Oi! What do you think you’re doing?!” Mammon scurried to his feet, standing in front of you with his arms wide to block you from moving, even though you had yet to even leave the bed. “Bed rest means staying in bed last I checked!”

“Please, Mammon, I just want to take a shower, I’m grimy and gross. I feel like an over-steamed dumpling.”

“Don’t let Beel hear you say that.” You managed to stand up, but your sense of balance left much to be desired. On instinct you ended up grabbing Mammon’s shoulders to keep from falling over. “Alright, nuh uh, you can barely move! What if you end up falling and cracking that head of yours open, huh?” Your mind was brought back to your morning mishap and near tumble in the shower from before. “You’re lucky you didn’t injure yourself too badly earlier!”

Your eyes widened. “H-how did you know about that? I don’t remember telling anyone.”

His eyebrows raised. “I’m talking about the dining hall, dummy. But now that you’ve let that little detail slip there’s not any chance I’ll let you go now! No way.” He put one arm under yours to keep you steady, ready to keep you back in bed for good.

Gathering up what little energy you had, you took several deep breaths, gently pushing yourself away from his body until you were standing on your own, just barely stable. “Mammon, please?” It had been your goal up until now to look as far from pathetic as possible, yet now you poured all that into your expression, eyes pleading, head tilted a bit to the side.

He squirmed. “Tch, you think you can do whatever you want just by giving me some puppy-eyes? Who do you think I am?”

“Fine,” you grumbled. “I bet Asmo would let me take a shower. Maybe I should call him and have him take care of me instead.”

“Asmo?! I...you...fine! But I’m c-coming with you, to make sure you stay safe and all.”

You lowered your eyes at him. “You can stay outside the bathroom.”

“I’m not payin’ for a busted door if I need to break in. I’m going inside! I’ll just turn around or somthin’.”

He stared you down with a nature stubborn enough to match your own. In your state now, you had little time to squabble. “Fine.” You started walking, leaning against bits of furniture to keep you steady. Acting rather gentlemanly, Mammon rushed ahead of you to open your door. Once he did, he took your arm tucked against his in a sort of escorting fashion. Saying nothing, you both took steady silent steps to the bathroom. You were immensely pleased to find it unoccupied, leaving Mammon’s side to step in. Like he promised he would, he followed you inside, shutting the door before his cheeks turned dark with embarrassment. He turned, parking himself in a corner with his face to the wall.

“I-I’ll be right here in case something happens, alright?” For him to come this far for you was...The added heat rushing through your body only caused you to feel worse, so you flicked on the water to heat up as you stripped. As you were taking off your pants, balancing on one leg, you teetered to the side, nearly falling. The tub right next to you served as your saving grace. You panted, cursing at yourself for being so clumsy. “You alright?!” Mammon clasped his hands over his face before turning around. “MC?” Riddled with nervous anxiety, he danced back and forth on his feet.

“I’m okay,” you wheezed. Just barely. You planted your foot against the fabric of your pants, tugging your other leg out. “Just keep looking at that wall.” You questioned the idea of him being in here at first, but now you were beginning to have little trust in yourself. What if you did collapse, locked, exposed inside an empty room till someone came looking for you? You shuddered. Climbing into the shower, you pulled the curtains across the rod until you were completely concealed. You let out a breath of relief as the steam once again cleared up your airways, the pressure building up in your head loosening. Shutting your eyes, you let the water wash over you, cleaning off the sticky sweat that had clung to your body. You simply stood there for a few moments, appreciating the serenity. Then you figured it would be best to get yourself clean while you had the capacity to. Reaching down for the soaps you used, you washed your hair and vigorously scrubbed down your body, envisioning all the germs swirling down the drain. Although by the time you were done, you became aware of the fact that you might’ve made the water a bit too hot, and you might’ve once again pushed yourself a little too far. Nausea came along with the dizziness, the floor losing it’s feeling of solidity. After you turned the water off, you tore the shower curtain back, stepping onto the bathroom mat.

“You done?” Mammon asked. Right now, all you could do was grunt in response. The small burst of energy you possessed had plummeted. You bypassed the towels and straight for your clothes. Only, the clothes you had been wearing previously were gone. On cue, Mammon explained. “Oh I got you some pajamas. Not good to be lying in those same clothes all day, besides, I got you something comfier.” Folded up on the floor by the tub were a comfortable pair of your pajamas. Pushing aside your humiliation, you picked up the “pajamas” he’d picked out for you. One of your shorts and...one of his t-shirts. It was one he had bought on a whim, much like most of his other purchases. Merch from an action movie you and him had watched in the theaters a while ago. He loved this thing. You could only stare at it for a few seconds. Mammon was right, these would be much nicer to sleep in.

With a meek voice you started slipping into the new outfit, still dripping. “T-thank you.” You had hardly finished poking your head through the shirt before your knees began to tremble. Your head felt foggy, your mind threatening to slip. “M-Mammon,” you gulped, your voice shaking.

He spun around, eyes squeezed shut. “What? What is it? Are you bleeding? Are you hurt? Are you dressed? Can I look?” As soon as you ‘mm-hm’ed he flashed his eyes open, took in the sight of your shuddering frame before hurrying over to you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head for a moment, the world disappearing as you plummeted to the floor. You woke up in his arms hardly a few seconds after your fainting spell. Held tightly against his body, he wrapped his limbs around you, supporting you to keep you upright. “Hey, hey!” His voice shook as he squeezed you. “MC!”

“ ‘s too...hot.”

“Stupid human…” He muttered, his rugged tone falling short. “And you’re still drenched! Are you trying to make yourself even worse?” When his sharp remarks were met with your silence, he pulled you closer. “Ah...Really not good, huh?” He asked softly, one of his hands rubbing your back. You could only slowly shake your head. “Let’s get you back to bed, eh?” He brushed some damp hair away from your face before he dragged you out the door, his distress growing ever more visible the more you seemed to slump harder against him. It felt like an eternity inching back to your room, flopping facedown onto your bed as soon as it was in your sights. The mattress bobbed up and down, the movement surprisingly soothing, almost lulling your body to a light sleep right then and there. “Alright, come on. It’ll do you no good to fall asleep like that.” Mammon helped lift you up, letting you settle your head against his body, arms wrapped around his neck as he worked to get you back under the covers. He tucked you in, moving about the room nervously the less responsive you became. Shutting your eyes to conserve some energy, you listened to him curse under his breath, grumbling to himself about “fragile humans”. At some point, a dry fabric came into contact with the top of your head. You were pushed slightly to make some space for him to sit down. He adjusted you till your head was in his lap, the fabric massaging against your wet hair. “Stupid human…” He repeated, softly scrubbing the towel against your scalp. “Why’d you have to go and get yourself sick, huh?”

“...didn’t...mean to...I’m sorry…”

The motions across your head stopped, then you felt the back of his hand stroke against your cheek. “Now don’t sound like that...Do you know how much it hurts me to see ya like this?” He paused and then resumed ensuring your hair was as dry as he could get it. “Don’t you worry, the Great Mammon will be right here for you till you feel better, alright?” His voice sounded strained. “So ya better get better…” You cracked your eyes open, pushing yourself up. “What’re you doing? I-“ He quickly cut himself off as soon as you settled yourself between his legs, head against his chest. You could hear his throat casually gasp for breath. His nose came down to nestle against the top of your head, his arms dropping the towel, instead wrapping around your body. “Don’t do this for anyone but me, ya hear? Only I...only I want to take care of you like this.” He pulled the blanket up around the both of you, his soft breaths growing deeper and deeper. Eventually you both fell asleep.

Your mind was flooded with more fever dreams, clips and scenes of moments your conscious mind wouldn’t even know how to explain. It blurred the line between what was real and what was simply your imagination, so in the moment, when you were disturbed from your sleep, you didn’t even react. Your body was moved, flipped over, weightless, moved from the soft surface you were on to something firmer. You could only process it for a mere second before you were plunged back into a nonsensical plot your frayed mind came up with. After what felt like some time, you were just barely awoken again when harsh and hushed whispers buzzed in your ears.

“They shouldn’t be down here!”

“So cute! I mean, poor thing.”

“Are they still asleep?”

“Take them back.”

Once you realized that this was real, you slowly became aware of more things around you. As tired numbness left your limbs, you felt your arms pinned against your body, something around you constricted your movement. Panic struck you for only just a second, feeling that your blanket was simply wrapped around your body. You figured in your restless state you must’ve trapped yourself inside it. An involuntary groan escaped your mouth as you squirmed a little, moving your feet in an attempt to feel an escape.

Something outside of you moved you, tugging you tighter against something firm, a pressure rubbing circles into your back. It soothed you enough to keep you from struggling, but you were steadily waking up. The “wall” you were against vibrated as a deep voice rumbled out of it. “I just thought...it wouldn’t feel like a family dinner without them.” Your body was adjusted again, lifted to be propped up against what you now understood was a torso. One strong arm kept you still, draped against your back.

“S-surely you can’t hold them and eat at the same time, Beel,” someone muttered. “Why don’t you let your big bro hold em?”

The body holding you tightened around you, shielding you. “No.”

“Don’t underestimate him.”

“Should we wake them up?”

“Don’t humans heal faster when they sleep?”

Someone else let out an exhausted breath. “Fine, but they’re to be put back in bed once you’re done.”

The chest your head was against hummed with satisfaction. “Got it.” Soon, quiet but eager eating noises could be heard outside your muffled prison. If you connected the dots correctly, you were resting against Beel who had brought you down to dinner while you had been asleep. Was this a brief glance into what Belphie felt like? Albeit with more comfort and less...pain. Although he’d probably beg to differ. Right now, you couldn’t even pinpoint where the source of your suffering was coming from. It just seemed to be...all over, even down to the tips of your fingers. Even if you had wanted to move, you didn’t have the energy for it, so despite being almost wide awake at this point, you stayed in place. You tried to focus on anything else to keep your mind off the aching. Beel’s heart sounded like a distant drum. Burying your face closer against his body, you let out a small whimper, focusing on the melodic thumping of his healthy heart. You could even hear the pace speed up as your cheek pressed up against him.

“Beel, you alright?”

The sound of eating stopped, and a clink of something metallic against glass sounded before a second arm enveloped you, a hand settled at the back of your head. “I’ll eat in a little bit,” Beel whispered.

“In a--”

“Shhhh! Shut up, Mammon!”

“I mean…” The voice returned to barely audible. “Whadda sayin’ ‘in a bit’? You’re not sick again are ya?” Beel didn’t grace anyone with a response. You were gently squeezed in his hug, a weight coming down on top of your head, presumably his chin. The hand behind your head moved to the space between your shoulder blades, moving up and down in rhythmic strokes along your spine. It was uncanny, you thought, how he almost immediately knew how desperate you were for some comfort. Or maybe he was just perceptive like that. If anyone would be, it would be Beel.

“How are they feeling?” Someone asked.

Cooler air poured against your face as the space left for you to breathe was made wider. Light from the dining hall illuminated outside your eyelids. Beel’s hand pressed against your forehead, moving down to cup your cheeks. Out of everyone, he always ran the warmest, bordering on nearly being a walking furnace. And yet even he moaned in unease, his stomach groaning alongside him in worry. “Still too hot,” he announced. You allowed yourself to flicker your eyes open, looking up at him just as he moved his hand away. Both his eyebrows raised in surprise before he quickly frowned. “Did I wake you up? Sorry.” You figured that now that everyone knew you were up, it would be time to move. Sitting up straighter in your spot, you wiggled one of your arms out of your cocoon, pulling the fabric of your blanket off your head, letting it settle around your waist. You rubbed spots out from your vision, blinking as you soaked in the sight of the room.

Asmo politely dabbed at the corners of his mouth with a napkin, settling it back in his lap before addressing you with the sweetest pair of eyes. “Good evening, darling! How’re you feeling?”

You had half of a mind to try to play the “I’m fine” card, but with your fit with Satan and fainting scare with Mammon, it would be no use to even try to pretend you were fine. So you didn’t see the harm in being honest. “Like I’ve been to hell and back.”

“You are in hell,” Belphie quipped.

“You know what I mean.” You turned your head and glanced up, your heart pounding more prominently when you once again realized just how big Beel was compared to you, an otherworldly size. Sweeping away your embarrassment, you started tugging at the blanket to free your legs, moving to leave his lap. “Sorry, Beel.”

His hand grabbed one of your wrists. “What do you mean?” He tugged at you, repositioning you firmer in his lap. “You didn’t do anything.” His beautiful amethyst irises stared right into yours. “I wanted you here. Meals aren’t the same without you.” He pat the top of your head, letting his fingers scratch gently into your scalp. In most situations, you’d find your open vulnerability to be embarrassing, but right now you couldn’t care less. You leaned back into him, nestling your nose into his chest, using his body to block out the light. Beel gripped the blanket and pulled it back up to settle around your shoulders.

“Speaking of meals,” Lucifer started. “It’s about time MC had something to eat.”

Satan spoke up. “Do we even have anything decent enough for sick humans to have?” The brothers went back and forth for a while, bringing recommendations hypothetically to the table about what would be best for you.

“Belphie knows the most about humans, what do you think?” Beel wondered.

A lone monotone hum rang out for a moment. “I think it was stew or something like that.”

A strange bout of irritation drilled in you. You turned your head, addressing the group. “You know you could just ask the human right here. I might be sick but I’m not completely helpless.”

Brusque tones usually granted you grating glares, but even Lucifer seemed to give you a pass. “So?” The eldest questioned. “Tell us what you need and we can get it for you.”

Something about that knocked the rebellious wind out of you. You lowered your head a bit and sighed. “Don’t even worry about it, I’m not hungry anyway.” A bold statement to claim whilst sitting in the lap of Gluttony.

Shaking you lightly, Beel squinted at you. “You’ve barely eaten all day.” The expression on his face turned Lucifer levels of stern. It wasn’t an appearance he took too often. Even now you knew this was a losing battle. A flash of a memory popped up in your mind, one of when Beel had been sick. You pressed your lips together into a thin line.

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not.”

“Beel--”

“MC. Eat.” His flat tone trembled throughout his body, sending a shudder through you. Lucifer was always strict, so it never caught you off guard, not anymore. But when Beel got this way it pierced through everyone in the room. As if they’d been the one commanded, everyone took a single bite of their meal.

You gave in, your stature shrinking. “Fine...something light then. Soup’s fine. I’ll go get some…”

Beel’s arms wrapped around you again, keeping you to him. “No you won’t. Levi.”

The third-born almost yelped, sinking down into his seat before stuttering. “S-sure, I-I’ll get it…” As he headed to the kitchen you could hear him grumble. “Of course he had to pick me. Why me? It’s always me…” You felt a bit sorry for the otaku as he slunk away. In fact you almost felt sorry for everyone in the room. Even just alluding to the skip of a meal had Beel suddenly tense, on alert. He had you held against him in a guarded manner, his torso bent forward to lean over what he could of yours. He didn’t settle back down till Levi came back in a handful of minutes later, resting a bowl of soup in front of you. It was of human origins you assumed, it looked like regular chicken noodle. The aroma had bits of nostalgia bubble within you. And now that it was here, you hated to admit that you actually were hungry.

You reached over to try to grab a spoon, falling just a bit short of the table’s edge. Beel’s arms were admittedly much longer than yours, not needing to sit as close as you usually did. Beel grasped a clean utensil for you, getting a decent portion of stock in it’s dip. He held his other hand under the spoon to make sure he didn’t spill any, then he brought it over to you. Did you try to deny it? Maybe a little, but Beel’s spine-chilling glower had you reconsider. You opened your mouth and let him feed you. The hot broth slid down your sore throat easily, relieving some of the pain. As it warmed you up from the inside, Beel finally went back to smiling, everyone breathing in relief. “See, doesn’t it make you feel better?” Beel brought a new spoonful to your lips.

You swallowed again and admittedly nodded. “A bit.”

Out of the blue, Beel brought his face down, planting a gentle kiss to the top of your head. Some of his siblings gasped, but if the demon of gluttony heard it, he pretended he hadn’t. His free hand went back to rubbing your back, and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t nice, the many sensations driving some of the pain from your mind. “Good,” Beel beamed. “Remember, your body needs fuel to keep going.”

“I know…” The parallel between now and when he had been sick was almost perfect. Beel took the bowl in his hands, bringing it over to settle in your lap, keeping it steady in his hold. “Isn’t it hot?” You asked, worried he’d burn his skin.

“Not to me,” he assured you.

You sighed, taking the spoon from him so you could eat yourself. “Thank you for always looking out for me, Beel.”

You expected him to be pleased, but he quickly turned downcast. “I couldn’t protect you from this.” Heart breaking, all you could do was stare down into your lap, watching the broth gently swirl in the bowl. This had mostly been your fault. If you had done something just a bit differently, maybe…

“No, Beel, that wasn’t your fault,” Belphie spoke up, pushing his plate with his leftovers on it closer to his twin to finish. “Besides, it’s your job now to take care of MC now more than ever, right?”

Beel turned his head away from the food, peering down at you in his lap. He nodded once, bringing his head down to press his forehead to yours. “You’re right. Sick or not, I’ll always watch over them.”

After dinner, Beel carried you back up to bed, reluctant to let you be free of his arms, but he managed. After giving you one last once-over and another little kiss to your temple, he hurried back down to the dining hall. After all, he was far from having his fill of food. Lucifer had followed the two of you inside, taking your temperature once more. 100.7, still higher than he’d prefer it to be, but glad to discover it had gone down even if just by a hair. He allowed you to take some medicine and urged you to get some more rest. Flicking the light off, he wished you sweet dreams before he left, torn away from you by work he couldn’t ignore. Although, even with the comfort of your bed and the satisfying feeling of something warm in your belly, for the first time, slumber eluded you. It wasn’t that you weren’t tired--exhaustion might as well have been your permanent state at this point--but shutting your mind off, drifting away into peaceful bliss didn’t seem like an option right now.

You spent a few hours on your D.D.D. scrolling through posts and web-pages, anything to keep you occupied. Although, that eventually bored you after a while. You sat up, trying to not let the loneliness of your empty room consume you. Had everyone gone to bed already? Had you already gotten used to falling asleep with someone beside you? That couldn’t be the case, right? You slowly got out from under your covers, padding over to the door. Maybe if you walked around the House of Lamentation enough, you’d be able to go to bed. You were feeling a bit better, capable of moving around on your own at the very least. You entered the empty hallway, the midnight moon rays creeping across the rug settled across the stone floor. The branches outside the windows cast twisted shadows across the corridor. Some people might’ve found it dreadful, but whether it was your own stranger tastes or the fact that you’d been down here so long, you found it to be serene in a mystical sort of way.

Drifting through the halls like a weary ghost patrolling the perimeter, you wandered past each of the brother’s rooms. The house was surprisingly still. Before you knew it, you ended up in the music room. Shifting your feet towards the gorgeous ebony piano, your fingers brushed lightly over the ivory keys. Pushing down a low B, the note reverberated through the room, your skin tingling at the broken silence. It quenched some of your boredom. So you pushed another one, the lowest note this time, the deep tone rumbling through you.

“Having fun are we?”

You jumped, every hair across your body standing up on end. Swirling around, you met a pair of ruby eyes in the shadows. A string of curses left your lips. “What in hell’s name are you doing, Lucifer? Nearly scared me to death…” You pressed a hand to your beating chest, adrenaline coursing through your veins. You sunk to your knees, the wind knocked out of you.

He stepped further into the light, arms crossed, almost fuming. “I could ask you the same question. Once again I have to wonder, what are you doing out of bed? Are you that determined not to recover, is that it?” Hair slightly messy, well-tailored pajamas barely creased, you figured he must’ve just gotten out of bed, possibly disturbed before he could fall asleep. It would explain the death glare he was giving you.

“I...couldn’t sleep,” you answered truthfully, followed by an innocent little shrug.

With two fingers, he pinched at the bridge of his nose. “And so Levi just let you waltz around on your own?”

You tilted your head. “Levi?”

Something dawned on him with your confused question. A terrifying smile arched over his face, the corners twitching as the small amount of light in the room was snuffed out by his menacing aura. “Leviathan…” Yelping at the sudden movement, Lucifer hoisted you over one of his shoulders, gliding across the floor at a ridiculous pace until he was in front of Levi’s room. You wiggled, beating a gentle fist against Lucifer’s back.

“Let me down!”

He let you slide off of him, settling you back on your feet, but he quickly grasped one of your hands to keep you to his side. Despite his furious demeanor, he gently knocked on the door, waiting for approximately two seconds before knocking harder. “Levi!”

You heard the otaku approach his door before he swung it open. “What?! I’m in the middle of a very important raid! What could you possibly need--” The entrance to the room cracked open, Levi sticking his head out before all the color drained from his face. The tangerine hue of his eyes flickering from you to his older brother, the demon with paper-thin patience. Levi gulped, the little bump in his throat bobbing.

“Forgive me if I’m wrong, but didn’t I inform you that you would be keeping an eye on MC tonight?” The higher lilt in his question was laced with hostility. “Or maybe I didn’t make myself clear.” You felt a pang of guilt for the demon of envy.

“Lucifer,” you urged, tugging at his hand which kept you in a vice grip. “I’ll go back to bed, it’s not an issue.” He was ready to blow a gasket, the weariness of dealing with work and keeping his brother’s shenanigans at bay without your assistance clearly was affecting him. Who knew he’d come to depend on you this much? You reached up, rubbing his shoulder with the sweetest look you could come up with. “Please, don’t be angry.”

Shutting his eyes, squeezing your hand, he gave himself time to breathe. “MC, rest. Levi, take care of them. And no, I’m not asking.” The dark circles under Lucifer’s eyes almost seemed to run blacker, his irises duller than they should’ve been.

“Hey, don’t worry about me,” you comforted him. “Go get some sleep yourself.”

His shoulders sagged ever so slightly. “The sick shouldn't be fussing over the hale and whole, you know, but I will. I shall see you tomorrow.” He brought your hand up, kissing it before he let it go. “And, Levi.” The demon of envy flinched, hoping that he’d been forgotten. “I’ll see you tomorrow as well.”

Levi hung his head low as his older brother walked away, preemptively sniffling at his possible doom. “...and my raid is ruined…T-this is just the worst.” You were a bit sorry for Levi for being thrown at you like this, but you couldn’t help but wonder in the back of your mind if he...had forgotten about you. You watched the outline of Lucifer disappear into the darkness before you shivered. The temperature inside the house was dropping. “Huh?” Levi snapped out of his pitiful thoughts. “Are you-are you cold?”

“A little…”

“O-oh, I guess...maybe...Would it be alright if you stayed in my room tonight?” His stance shifted behind his door, anxiously moving his gaze around to keep from making direct eye contact with you.

Sighing, you nodded. After all, with the adrenaline crash, you doubted you had energy left to walk back to your room. “Sure.”

He let you in, shutting the door behind you and locking it with a magical charm to keep the riff-raff out. He scurried over to his tub-bed, pulling out some random plush collectibles, and letting them rest against the floor for now. He spun on his feet for a moment, taking in his room before bringing his thumb up to bite on the nail of it. “Y-you can stay anywhere, I have some blankets I guess...Gah! Why did Lucifer have to make me watch you?” The heart in your chest sank a bit, and you lowered your head, a small “oh” leaving your lips. Clutching his hair, Levi immediately regretted what he said. “No! No no no no, that’s-that’s not what I-I-I--” He stuttered for a good while, unable to grasp proper control of his tongue. “Wait, wait!” Taking a moment to collect his thoughts, he picked up one last Ruri-Chan plush from the bed, covering part of his face with it. “I just...I don’t remember the last time I took care of someone sick…Knowing me, I-I’ll somehow make you worse! What-what if I’m forced to make a split second decision that could be the-the difference between life and death?! I’ll end up killing you! Living the rest of my life in isolated drunken regret!”

He quickly spiraled down a slippery slope of what-ifs, a dramatic fantasy playing out before him where he’d been cast out of the Devildom as your murderer, a disgusting vagabond, living on wildberries and wildlife with naught but his loneliness and shadow to keep him company. His rising anxiety was making him hyperventilate. You had to come over to him, gently take his shoulders and shake him slightly, dragging him back to reality. “Levi, I highly, highly doubt it will come to that. When Lucifer means ‘take care of me’ he mostly means making sure I have what I need.” You gave the sides of his arms a little rub.

“But I don’t know what you need!”

“Well, what I need right now is for you to calm down, first off,” you told him, dropping your hands back to your sides, gripping the end of the tub. Climbing into his bed had never really been an issue before, but hoisting yourself over the edge proved difficult a task. You felt his shaky hands come under your arms, hoisting you enough till you could sink yourself into his nest of pillows. You grinned, thanking him as you reached up to rub the top of his head. “See? Stuff like that, nothing too difficult. Fetch quests and escort missions. Easy mode. I’ll be here, just do your own thing.”

That seemed to ease him enough. He gripped one of his blankets and pulled it over you, moving back over to his desk. Muttering about the raid, he clacked at the keys, his mood steadily improving the more he lost himself in the world of gaming. You felt at the fabric of your pants, remembering with a small moan that they didn’t have pockets...meaning you’d left your D.D.D. in your room. Figures, you thought. So, in your last ditch effort to stay entertained, you moved Levi’s pillows around, making a small wall to prop yourself against, peering over the top of the basin to stare at his screen. You watched his character move around, fighting random enemies. He was completely absorbed, lightly talking to himself as he moved along, humming the victory theme anytime a quest was completed. At one point, he was paying too much attention to a beautifully fleshed out character model to notice what they were telling him, information that he needed to know but missed out on. After that, he was sent towards a boss that ended up instantly killing him when it finished charging up its “claymore of chaos’ move. Levi tried one more time, then three more times, and then about twenty. “What the heck?! How am I supposed to beat you?!” Levi finally shouted, pushing himself slightly away from his desk.

Speaking up for the first time in a few hours, you shared with him the information he missed. “You’re supposed to use your Mystical Missile spell.”

He jumped, almost falling out of his chair. “I thought you were asleep!”

“I still can’t sleep…I don’t know why.” You pulled your blanket tighter around you, peeking at him from your spot. A blush ran over his cheeks, rubbing the back of his head.

“Oh...Really? Mystical Missile? But it’s a trashy beginner spell.”

“That NPC lady said it would work, I dunno.” You shrugged. “Try it out, it can’t hurt.”

So he did, removing one of his high level skills to equip the basic one. Severely doubting success, he entered the boss arena again. It was admittedly tense, keeping you both on the edge of your seat. Once “claymore of chaos” was building, Levi let the spell fly towards him. The boss staggered, a crack forming in it’s armor. “It worked!” He shouted, yelping as a new flurry of enemy spells flew towards his character. If it was entertainment you were looking for, you found it, cheering him on as he hunched over, focused on his every move. Once it went down, you both whooped and cheered. It had been a bit too much for your lungs, dissolving into some coughs. Levi rushed to his feet, rubbing your back. “You okay?”

You nodded, letting your body shudder with a few more hacks till it was done. Voice more hoarse than before, you still smiled at him. “You did it!”

A laugh bubbled out of him. “Victory! Dun dun dun! Legendary item acquired!” Then his expression fell for a second. “Have you just been sitting there, watching me the whole time?” You nodded. He gripped one of his hoodie sleeves. “Would you rather do something...together?”

You brightened. “Sure!”

Giddy, he hurried over to the computer, picking up his loot before saving the game, closing the program. “If you’re in the mood for watching something, how about this new anime I found? I’m only a few episodes in, but I can start over! It’s called ‘I Transferred To A New School, But Everyone There Is Part Of The Elite, So I Have To Try And Keep Up With My Classmates Despite Me Being Normal, But I Accidentally Fooled The School Into Thinking I’m A Long Lost Heir To A Forgotten Throne’.”

Blinking, you stared at him. “You lost me at Elite.” Why the Devildom had anime with titles the length of chapters, you’d never know.

“It’s good! I promise!” He shifted his monitor so you could see it from your spot easier, turning the anime on with an elated aura, much nicer than the gloom-and-doom one from earlier. This was the Levi you loved to see, the one you tried to cherish as much as you could. He sat in his chair, scooting back till he was beside you so you could watch it together. It was a cute anime, something mostly a slice of life, a normal main character in a school setting surrounded by powerful beings, the plot moved forward with magical shenanigans...something about it sounded familiar. One of the episodes showed the main character fallen ill under some strange circumstance, their roommate they stayed with flustered but determined to take care of them. The friend--and obvious love interest--asked if he could hold the protagonist’s hand. Levi made a little noise. “MC, c-can I hold your hand? I mean, if that’s super weird don’t even listen to me because who would even want to hold hands with me anyway and--”

“Sure,” you smiled, reaching your hand out from the blanket a little.

He hesitated for a second and then took it, resuming to watch the show. Much to your amusement, any move the character made, he made as well, taking it as if it were some sort of guide. He brushed the hair from your face, made sure the blanket was tucked gently around you, ensured you were comfortable. Then, the friend in the show made a bold move, snuggling next to the main character as they both fell asleep. Levi went stiff, becoming extremely flustered. You had to admit, the concept was...enticing, and you almost leapt at any opportunity to tease envy. You tugged at his hand, making him look at you with your arms outstretched. If this had been an anime, he would’ve collapsed, his soul flying from his mouth. But even Levi couldn’t resist the temptation. He stepped into his bed, slowly, warily at first. He let you take him into your arms, wrapping his own body around you as you both squeezed together in the tub. “I...I...This is...a dream…”

You chuckled, settling your head on his chest, feeling his motoring heart pound in his chest. “Let’s watch some more, Levi.” Only, you hardly remembered anything after that. For shortly after he curled against you, the strange barrier keeping you awake completely collapsed. He had draped the blanket over you both, fidgeting with the hair at the nape of your neck. You must’ve turned your head against him, comforted enough by his presence to fall asleep.

“Medicine?”

“Right here.”

“Water?”

“You brought me like a gallon’s worth.”

“D.D.D.?”

“You can see it in my hands.”

Lucifer went down the list, the actual written list he’d come up. You sat in bed, trying hard not to blush and squirm under the many gazes in your room this morning. “Extra blankets?”

“I have everything and anything needed to last an entire week in solitary!” You shook your head, a little irate at each of them, but appreciating their concern all the same. Icepacks, blankets, snacks, water, bandages, and many other things were brought in your room in preparation. “You all are only going to a Student Council meeting, not off on some lengthy business trip.”

“Absolutely right!” Asmo shouted, sitting next to you in bed, hugging you to him and caressing your cheek against his. “It’s some stupid meeting anyway, which means one of us can stay can’t we?”

Every member of the household was already shouting reasons why they and they alone should have the opportunity to stay with you. Lucifer’s little vein above his eyebrow throbbed. “Enough!” The room went silent. “As much as I would love to permit myself to stay home,” he cleared his throat, “not a single one of us can miss today’s meeting. Which is why I’m taking every precaution. EDP?”

You gently pushed Asmo off of you, raising an eyebrow. The demon of lust pouted, stroking your head instead. “What’s an EDP?” You asked.

“An EDP is a short term we use for an Emergency Defense Pillar,” Satan explained. “A popular and fairly new little device in the Devildom, especially for lesser magic users or those who aren’t trained in combat.”

“I’m still at a loss,” you admitted. “Is it like a baton or something?”

Rummaging around in his pockets, Mammon brandished a small black object. It was cylindrical, about as big as a lighter, a glowing red button on the side. “I brought it! Now, let me teach you, human. If you’re being chased or cornered, this handy lil’ doodad is going to be essential if you wanna escape. You just push this little button here, and--”

Lucifer’s chest tightened. “Mammon, don’t!”

The second born pressed the button, his mistake just now clicking in his mind, chucking it a bit in front of him. Asmo grabbed you and tucked you against his chest, pushing your back to the wall while he shielded you with his body. Every other brother hit the floor, jumping away from the object. A huge pillar of fire sprouted from the object, swirling blue flames emitting intense heat as well as a roaring sound. It nearly burnt your eyes. Asmo tucked your head into his shoulder, waiting until the fire was suddenly sucked back into the small container, rattling against the floor. Your protector pulled away from you, letting you stare at the pitch black circle burnt into your ceiling and floor, a round chunk taken out of your carpet, some fibers still flickering. Lucifer came over and snuffed out the singed pieces with his shoe, the vein in his head more prominent. He was about to shout but you beat him to it. “That’s absolutely unnecessary! In what scenario would I need to use that?! Is there even a safety on that thing?!”

A little sheepish, Mammon picked himself back up off the floor. “Well, you’ve gotten the best visual example you can get. You’re welcome.”

“I don’t want it, someone take it with them,” you groaned. “What if I end up accidentally getting flame-broiled in my sleep?”

Beel closed his eyes. “Flame-broiled hell bats…”

Lucifer bent down and picked up the EDP from the floor. “Perhaps this is a bit too dangerous.”

“Glad we can see eye to eye on that one…” You tapped the screen of your D.D.D., noticing that the time to the meeting was rapidly approaching. “You guys have fifteen minutes! Stop worrying about me and get out of here!”

Many wide-eyed demons scrambled to get out your door, knowing that the punishment for being late was not something they wanted to risk. Even Lucifer was rushed, booking it out of your room. Then he popped his head in. “You’ll call if anything happens?”

“Yes.”

He left again, the door shutting. It burst back open, his overprotective nature coming to light. “You have your alerts on, right?”

You chuckled, you couldn’t prevent yourself from doing so. “Yes, mother hen, now go!” He growled, but this time left for good, the uproar from the group slowly fading away. Once more, you shook your head, staring at the charcoal colored circle against your ceiling. “They’re insane,” you stated aloud.

“Truly,” someone replied. You yelped, chucking the closest pillow at the sudden voice. Solomon caught it, laughing. “Sorry for startling you. The demons are gone, I’m assuming?” He walked back over, handing you your plushy ammo.

“They just left. Why are you here?” You took the pillow from him, settling it in your lap as you crossed your legs over your mattress.

He pulled an upset face. “Why do you sound so suspicious? I’m here to check up on you. I had to make sure those demons were taking care of you properly.” He grabbed a chair from your table, scooting up by the bedside. He spotted the hard-to-miss burns and sighed. “Maybe I should’ve gotten here sooner. Oh well, an easy fix. Spirits of twine and stone, turn back the time to whence this matter was well known, heed the Sorcerer Solomon!” Flowing restorative magic rushed over the floor and ceiling, soaking into the atoms, leaving it as perfect as it had been earlier. Actually, almost better than how it had been before. Not even the smell of burning remained. In a small flourish, he stretched out his hands. “Ta-da.”

“Thank you.” You couldn’t help but giggle at his theatrics. “And the brothers have been taking care of me just fine. I don’t have a fever anymore.”

He reached his hand out, thumb brushing across your face, he hummed to himself before pulling you gently, pressing his lips to your forehead. You gasped a little, covering your mouth as your face burned. He sat back, nodding. “You feel much better.” He caught your expression, trying to stifle a smirk. “Hm? I was simply taking your temperature.”

Composing yourself, you tightly gripped the pillow in your hands. “Kinda an old method, don’t you think?”

“I prefer traditional practices,” he shared. “But that wasn’t the main reason I came over.”

“Oh?” You’ll admit, at first the EDP had seemed utterly ridiculous, but in this dreaded scenario, you almost wished to have it in your hands. Solomon pushed back his cloak, reaching behind his back and pulling out a fresh steaming plate of food. Already you felt sweat bead across your face. “A-ah, how nice of Simeon to make me something.” It was more of a personal wish, although you knew that it wasn’t going to be the case.

“Not Simeon, actually. I made it!” He beamed, completely oblivious. “How long has it been since you’ve had a home-cooked human meal?”

“N-not too long ago actually, and-I-um-the brothers made sure to feed me before they left so-”

“Surely you can have a few bites, right?” He pleaded. “I made sure to add all kinds of ingredients I know have some healing properties, so I’m sure it’ll enhance the flavor. Here, no need to waste extra energy, let me feed you. Say ah.”

“MC!” The sound of someone frantically calling your name in the distance slowly brought you to. “MC!” Something snapped as you moved, pain coursing through your entire body. You opened your eyes, not able to see much through the leaves. Wait...leaves? The smell of earth and roses rushed to your nose. That and the thorns trapping you and piercing you were enough to tell you what you needed to know. You were somehow entangled in a rose bush. The voice sounded again, closer this time. “MC, where are you?!”

Audio recognition kicked in, able to place the voice. Tilting your head back, you put all the power you could into your shout. “Belphie!” There was silence for a while, and white hot panic settled in your stomach...or maybe that was. Oh that was right…

Suddenly the leaves were pulled back, Belphie’s head staring down at you. “This is new for you.”

You tried to move, but your clothes were stuck in the thorn’s clutches, not to mention any movement you made drove the bush’s claws deeper into your skin. “I…I think I’m stuck.”

“Wow, that really sucks for you.”

“Belphie!” You tried sitting up, a sharp pain in your cheek causing you to hiss, drawing in breath through your teeth. Something drifted down your cheek, the taste of bitter copper coming across your lips. Blood. “P-please help me.”

“I was only joking. Don’t move, you’ll make things worse.” He tugged at some of the branches, the disruption poking you some more. Tugging at your sleeve, he detangled your shoulder, working on your lower arm next.

“Ow, ow, ooooow,” you whined.

“Don’t be such a baby.” Leaning down a bit too far, one of the thorns pricked him right in the thumb. He cursed, threatening to leave you alone once you laughed. “You’re really scratched up…” He frowned as he gestured to many thin red scratches across your body. You whimpered again, reaching up at him to tug you free. Sloth kicked in, his impatience to take his time fluttered away. He basically flattened the bush with his feet, breaking the twigs stuck to you with his hands. His arms wrapped around your torso, tugging you up, the sound of some fabric tearing as he did. He sighed, taking you a few steps away from the bush before letting you slide past his arms, flopping to the soil. He came down to kneel beside you, grabbing thorns and leaves out of your hair, rubbing a thumb over the small wound on your cheek. “When you wonder why we worry about leaving you alone, this is why. How long have you been napping in bushes?”

“I…” A sudden chill overtook you, your stomach and the food...you remembered the food Solomon had fed you. The taste...torture. You could feel it in your throat.

“MC?” You pushed Belphie away, scrambling on your hands and knees to another unfortunate set of flora. Without nitty gritty details, let’s just say your body had the smart idea to not keep Solomon’s food in you any longer. Trembling, you coughed up the last of it, cold sweat dripping down your face. Belphie’s hands touched your back. “You’re not going to be sick on me, are you?” You didn’t respond to him, trying to catch your breath. He mumbled, pulling you into his lap. Covered in dirt and sweat, you curled into him, shivering. Then the both of you watched in slight horror as all the plants planted around your...expulsed poison all wilted at once, almost crumbling to dust. “Wicked father of demons…” Belphie breathed. “What the hell did you eat?”

You only needed to utter one word for him to understand everything entirely. “Solomon…”

“Dear Diavolo…I’m lucky to have found you alive.” He whipped his head around. “He’s not still here is he?”

You shook your head, rubbing at the saliva on your lips. “I don’t remember...I don’t remember leaving my room…I don’t remember…”

Working hard to get to his feet, he lifted you along with him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your legs against his body, groaning into him. “Alright, I guess we’re doing this now.” He held onto you, sidestepping past the destroyed flora and towards the house. “I’m just telling you this now though, if Solomon is still here, I will leave you.”

Reaching up his neck, you grasped tightly onto some of his hairs. “I will drag you down with me.”

“Confident words for someone I’m carrying like a baby,” he snickered, but he let the witty back and forth drop as he entered the house. For a moment, he stood still, taking in the air of the place. “I think we’re good,” he announced, but continuing to take wary steps up the stairs. He picked up the pace in the hallways, sneaking away towards the familiar spiral staircase that led it’s way up to the attic. The doors he pushed open were heavy in more ways than one. Quietly shutting it behind the two of you, he headed over to the bed. A jolting ticklish pain raced down your body as Belphie jabbed his fingers against your waist. “Off, parasite.” You relinquished your grasp as fast as you could, flopping onto the attic mattress. You crawled up, sliding under the covers, planting your face into the nearest pillow. Right when you thought you were recovering, you were back to being bed-ridden. Belphie left you alone in silence for a minute. When he came back, you had to take a moment to realize he had ever been gone. He was stealthy like that. He dropped a small first-aid kit as well as a bottle of water on the blanket. “Come here.”

“But I-”

“But I,” he mocked. “But I don’t care. I need to look after some of those scratches.” Huffing, you dramatically threw the blanket to the side, coming over to sit in front of him. Taking the water bottle in hand, you gratefully moved to take a hearty swig to wash down some of the acid. Belphie grabbed it from you before you could. “Not for drinking.” He twisted the cap off and pulled out a small clean washcloth from his pockets. He pressed the fabric against the opening and tilted the bottle up, getting the rag slightly wet. He then pressed it against your cheek. “We don’t want these infected.” Slowly, he dabbed at each of your shallow scratches, making sure they were clear of dirt. Once he was done with that, he shoved the remaining water at you.

“I don’t want your rag water.”

“Fine.”

But the acidity in your mouth was grating against your teeth. You snatched the bottle from him, swallowing some grateful gulps to cease the gentle burning. Belphie had a mild cocky expression, wiping away the blood. Closing an eye due to slight stinging, you watched his concentrated face. “So…” You started, watching him soon open the box and remove a small tube of medicated ointment. “Why’re you home?”

Squeezing a small amount of the clear gel on the tip of his finger, he started applying it to your cleaned wounds. “Oh, I snuck out of the meeting.”

“Belphie!”

“What?” He took one hand, grabbing your face for a second, squishing your cheeks, mimicking the way your lips pursed. You shook him off, trying to keep yourself from being flustered. “Can you blame me? All I could think about was you...nice and warm in bed...and I was sleepy.” He let out a large yawn. “Still sleepy.”

“Well…” You paused for a second, heat rising to your cheeks. “I’m glad you did.”

He stopped for a second, looking into your eyes. “Hm? Say that again?”

Swallowing a lump in your throat, you furled your eyebrows. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Are you suuuure?” He drawled. “Cus it sounded like you missed me.” One look at your embarrassed face sent him laughing. He poked at your ribs, tickling your sides, singing the words. “You missed me, you missed me.”

Burying your face in your hands, you kicked him a little. “Stop it!”

“Fine,” he smirked. “Anyway, I think you’re mostly taken care of. Most of these have dried and scabbed over. They weren’t very deep anyway.” He lifted your arm, turning it to make sure he’d treated you completely. “So now we can do what I came here for!” It was his first excited expression in a while. He jumped into you, grabbing you by the waist against the bed. Both your heads hit the pillows, the blanket following shortly after. Already you could feel his face against your back. A happy hum of his buzzed into your skin, his hands rubbing against your stomach. Pouting a little, you realized that with Belphie stuck to you like this, you weren't going anywhere soon, so you shifted to get comfortable. You relaxed with a heavy sigh. “You know…” Belphie drowsily muttered. “I...missed...you too…”

“MC! My poor precious MC! I’m never ever leaving you alone again!” Asmo wailed, clinging to you like if he let you go you’d suddenly die. “I can’t believe Belphie did this to you!”

Speaking up from the corner, Belphie scoffed. “I actually helped them, just so everyone knows.” Back in your room, each of the demon brothers had returned from the meeting, having found you and Belphie after a while in the attic. Of course, your small wounds, Belphie’s absence, and the strange destruction of a segment of the garden was called into question.

“And my plants!” Asmo shrieked. “They were such a lovely background for my Devilgram posts! They’re ruined!”

“I’m so-” you tried to apologize, but Asmo pressed a gentle finger against your lips.

“Shush! I don’t blame you a single bit, my darling. It’s all these ruffians!” He kissed your cheek in spots around your little wound.

“Hey! Solomon’s the person responsible, not us!” Mammon shouted.

Lucifer’s weariness was especially noticeable today. You wondered what he had to put up with at the meeting. “At the very least, we’re glad you’re safe, MC. Knowing what Solomon’s cuisine is capable of…” He pinched at the bridge of his nose. “I’m heading to my office...try not to burn the house down,” he sighed, exiting quietly.

You tilted your head. “Is he okay?” You asked.

“When Belphie left, let’s just say Diavolo wasn’t exactly pleased,” Satan explained, a wicked grin stretching his lips wide. “So in exchange he agreed to be Diavolo’s personal servant tomorrow. I hope our Demon Lord has some entertaining things in store.”

Belphie’s face brightened. “Did I do that? Whoops.” Hardly a glimmer of remorse in him.

“You guys owe it to him at least to try and make it a calm night,” you urged, hoping to ease some of the shenanigans already being plotted in their minds.

Mammon shook his head. “Why do we gotta owe him anything? If he’s out for the count tonight, I can hit the casinos without a problem!” He came over rubbing your head. “Give me some of that luck, yeah?” You doubted you had any, but he bounded out the door.

“Belphie, I’ve got a little idea I’d like to try, but I need an extra set of hands. Care to join me?” Satan curled a little finger around his chin, mischief making his green eyes glow wild.

Belphie chuckled. “Ab-so-lutely.” With devilish grins, they both sniggered, malevolent whispers drifting between them as they left.

A rumbling growl echoed through the room. If this had been anywhere else, you would’ve been terrified. But this was the Devildom, and you knew Beel’s stomach when you heard it. “Oh...I’m sorry, MC, but I’m starving. I’ll see you in a bit.” He came over, trying to give you a hug despite Asmo still holding onto you for dear life. He ended up hugging both of you anyway. With more than a little speed, he also left your room, probably heading straight for the kitchen.

A high pitched ‘bling’ reached your ears. Levi pulled out his D.D.D.. “Oh! The new patch for Sorcerer’s Scrolls has been released! I gotta go!” He moved to run but stopped in his tracks before he got too far. “Do you wanna...watch more of that show tonight?”

“Sure, Levi,” you smiled, watching him sprint out of the room, a joyful spring in his step. Although, once everyone had left, you couldn’t help but lower your head, patting Asmo’s wrist. “You can leave too, Asmo, you don’t have to stay with me.”

He made an overly dramatic gasp. “But I do! Don’t sound so sad!” Pulling a bit away from you, he let his cheeks turn a bit pink. “And to be completely honest, I’ve been dying to get some alone time with you.” He squirmed a little bit, but then jumped to his feet. “So! You just sit there and let Nurse Asmo take care of everything, ‘kay ‘kay?” Is that why he had brought that large bag with him when he came in? It was a peach-colored tote bag, settled on your table, a fluffy pink pom-pom clipped to one of the handles. He bounded towards it, rummaging around, looking for something important.

A little--well a lot--guarded against potential Asmo intentions, you tried craning your head to see if you could look inside, but no dice. The end of your nose tickled again as it had the past few days. Grabbing another tissue from your bedside, you tried to blow your nose as quietly as possible. Your poor nostrils were so dry by this point it was bordering on painful. You sniffled, reaching over to squirt some hand sanitizer in your hands. “I thought you hated being around sick people,” you told him.

“You’re the only exception! Besides,” he grabbed out a familiar tool, one you had no idea how he got his hands on it. A stethoscope. “I want to use all these goodies Solomon got me!”

The name still almost sent a shudder down your spine. “Solomon? Why?”

Practically skipping back over, he sat beside you on the bed, strangely excited about this. “Aren’t bodies fascinating?” He touched his own skin, dragging his hand down his neck. “I love to know what makes this perfect body run! And you have absolutely no idea how desperately I’ve longed to know how yours does too!” Taking a good look at him, you could sense that he was truly and undeniably curious as to how your mortal body differed from his. Or possibly just craving a closer look into you altogether. Of course, you still had to close your eyes and deeply sigh. How many times would Solomon be the source of general chaos? Asmo took the end to the stethoscope, looking at it strangely. “Tell me, dear, how does this work?” You let out a light chuckle, and he looked at you curiously. “Don’t make fun of me, that’s just mean!”

“I’m not! I’m not, I promise, it’s just…” He resembled that of a little kid right now, a rare sort of innocence about him. Here he was, a demon of many millennia, and he just wanted to play doctor for a bit. “Never mind.” Brushing off your thoughts, you took the binaurals, putting the earpieces in his ears. One of his hands gently clutched the diaphragm, so you wrapped your own hand around his, guiding the end of the stethoscope to your chest.

Listening it to a moment, you could watch the gentle awe cross over his face. “T-that’s you.”

You brought a hand up to cover your mouth. “Yes, Asmo, that’s me. What, you didn’t think I had a heartbeat?”

“No, I knew! It’s just…” He closed his eyes, going silent. You didn’t want to disturb his moment, but you felt a sneeze coming on. Grabbing another tissue, you covered your nose, tilted your head down towards your lap, and sneezed. Moaning a bit, you blew your nose again, hard enough to make your ears pop. Sitting up, you chucked your used kleenex into the trash. You were about to apologize, but then the glee drained from Asmo’s face. He brought his hands up to his mouth and shrieked.

“What?! What’s wrong?!” As soon as you had asked, the answer presented itself towards you. Warmth dripped down your lips, forcing you to close your mouth as fast as you could.

“Blood! You’re bleeding! Hold on!” Lurching towards the tissues, Asmo pulled five out at a time, pressing it against your face. You pinched your nose, pressuring your hand against the bundle of kleenex. “Look at all this! No, no, no, no, you’ll be alright, darling.” Your gut instinct was to tilt your head up, but Asmo placed his hand on the top of your head, tilting it slightly forward. “Oh, don’t do that, you’ll end up swallowing it. Stay there, I’ll be right back.” He got up sprinting, leaving you alone with the smell and taste of blood. When he came back, he had a cold wet rag in his hands. “Here, use this instead. Give me those,” he softly ordered, tugging at the already blood soaked tissues. You took the rag in your hands, using that to stop the flow instead. He pulled you into his arms, rubbing your back. “Poor thing, it’s just non-stop problems for you right now, isn’t it?” You let him hold you, tilting your head against his as you waited for the blood to stop. Slowly, he brought his hand up to pet the back of your head, giggling a bit to himself when the action made you shiver.

After a bit of time, you tore away from him, cautiously removing the rag. You touched just above your lip, sighing in relief when it had stopped. “That was unexpected.”

Stealing the cloth from you, he started wiping the excess blood off your face. “About gave me a heart attack!” With his free hand, he cupped the side of your face.

A little idea crossed your mind. “Heart attack, huh? Better check that out.” Reaching for the stethoscope, you cleaned the earpieces before putting them in, pressing the small round medical disc to his chest. It was a bit stunning, you had to admit, how loud it sounded. In the human world before, any mentions of demons or angels were always in an ethereal sense. Whether you believed in them or not, you never really thought about them having hearts. Were they even similar to yours? At least...the drumming beating sound of life was the same.

He finished up cleaning you off, tilting his head and grinning. “Well?”

“Undeniably alive...and I’m very grateful for it.”

He squealed, flopping onto you, pushing you both down onto the bed. Every hint that he had been frightened before was gone. “Aren’t you just the sweetest?! Come here, you!” He littered kisses over your face, sending you into a little flurry of embarrassed titters.

“Asmo…”

“Isn’t it a human saying that they can kiss the pain away?” He pecked his lips over your eyelids. “Well, you better prepare yourself...I won’t stop kissing your perfect little face till you feel better!”

The bedroom door violently swung open, the handle nearly making a dent in the wall. Demons poured in, nearly falling over each other. They were all in demon forms, ready to tackle more danger. When they noticed that Asmo was fawning over you, they all puffed up, jealous and irritated. “We heard you scream and thought something happened!” Lucifer roared. Kinda late, weren’t they?

“Hey, why’re you getting all kissy with MC?!” Mammon jumped onto the mattress, trying to pry you from his brother’s arms.

“Don’t you think I deserve to be embracing them?” Satan attempted to push them both aside. Before you knew it, your room was a small war-arena, everyone climbing on the bed. You were squished between them, passed between different hands. Then something wobbled, the sound of wood and metal groaning before a loud snap pierced your ears. The bed hit the floor, a poof of dust causing you to cough. Your bedframe lay scattered in broken pieces across the ground.

“My...bed…” You ran a hand through your hair, pinned under the doggy-pile of demon lords. You looked between each of them with stern looks, each of them blushing in embarrassment over their actions. “Well...I guess it means I’ll be using someone else’s bed for the foreseeable future.”

All at once, their faces lit up, and at the same time they all shouted the same thing. “Me!”

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #tw blood #tw medication #tw vomit

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lonely-lost-soul · 3 years

Text

Under the Floorboards Part: X

(C!Technoblade x Reader)

First Part: Pt. I

Fanart for this chapter made by the wonderful @theoneandonlyyeti please show them love!

Content Warning: Itty Bitty Spice Ahead! Please be wary I will let you know when it stops and starts so you can skip!

~~~

You never thought you would want kids of your own, adopting already children was completely fine but when it came to having your own you weren't too sure. However, you do know what it might be like to have a baby, that is to say, your injured husband was basically an overgrown baby. Ultimately it was your fault, the man kept pulling his stitches trying to do anything, which made both you and Ranboo frustrated as hell. Technoblade just couldn't sit still and it was driving you mad, you'd scold him and much like a child he'd pout and tell you no. After the fourth time pulling the stitches while he was trying to tame a polar bear, you had bound him to the bed. Not physically, of course, but if you saw him out of bed you'd usher him back in with whatever bribes that were needed to convince. Technoblade was understandably not happy with this development, but the brides always seemed to work, if they didn't you'd pull out the big guns. Appealing to the voices always seemed to work without fail, whether it be only referring to them or ignoring him completely they always got him to shut up and sit down. At the end of the third week, he seemed to be so used to your constant attention and nurse-like tenderness that whenever you weren't fully tending to him he had a tantrum. You tried to be patient, especially because it was partially your fault he was injured in the first place, but you couldn't help but get annoyed at his clinginess.

"Techno. Baby, you have to let go of me." His arms were wrapped securely around your waist, you both were sitting on a small cot by the fire. You allowed him to get out of bed sometimes okay, you weren't a monster; so long as he wasn't out fighting monsters and blowing up nations. He let out a deep purr and buried his head in your chest,

"No, I don't think I will," He mused a smirk evident in his voice although you couldn't see his face. You tsked softly, running your fingers through his hair,

"Tech?"

"Hm."

"Let go of me or I will take a pair of scissors to your hair." His hands immediately released their hold on you, he pulled away from your warm body, a pout etched across his features. "Thank you, my love," You kissed his forehead and he relaxed just slightly. "You think you can make it to the kitchen on your own for some lunch?" You gave a tilt to your head and Technoblade smiled softly,

"I'll head there in a few minutes, I wanna try and clean up on my own first, I feel gross." Technoblade sat up with a wince his bandages needed cleaning, he gave his neck a crack to shake away any residual pain. He stood up letting the blankets slide down his body; his hair had been perpetually tied up in a messy bun; his stubble was also slightly overgrown. He needed a makeover desperately, the voices were very much in agreement when he caught a glimpse of himself in a nearby mirror. Steve, the polar bear Techno adopted, grunted as he felt Technoblade move. Technoblade watched you coo at the bear and kissed the top of his fuzzy head, for someone who was so mad he adopted him. You sure acted like the bear was your new best friend, especially considering you let the bear sleep in the bed with the both of you.

"Alright, any lunch requests?"

"Anything you desire," He gently rubbed his chin against your cheek and your nose scrunched up at the feeling.

"You're prickly."

"Good or bad?"

"Well, you're hot with the stubble. So I guess a little beard is a good thing," You scratched under his chin and he purred loudly.

'We are never shaving again are we in agreement on that? Yes, obviously. Anything for her.'

"Now shoo," You ushered him towards the bathroom he slid inside with a dopey smile. He heard you call Steve over to you making sure he was just as fed like any other person in your band of misfits. Once you were officially in the kitchen was when Technoblade got a good look at himself for the first time in weeks. He was right in assuming his facial hair definitely needed at least a trim, his hair probably could use one as well now that he thought about it. He undid the bun and let his hair fall over his shoulders, at this point, it reached his mid-back. It was a bit tangled and didn't feel as soft as it usually did, he was sick of it. Technoblade picked up his trusty bathroom sword and held it in his hands, he turned the sharp blade over in his hands a few times in contemplation. Technoblade moved and placed it on the edge of the sink, he moved his hair to the front of his chest, taking the sword in another hand and slicing through his pink locks. They fluttered to the floor and his eyes drifted back over to the mirror, his hair now came down just below his shoulders. He ran his fingers through his freshly cut hair, ruffling it up just a little, he liked the new look. Technoblade tossed his loose shirt on the floor and gently removed his bandages, he didn't even bother looking at his wound, it was just another scar to add to the hundreds littering his body. However, this one he was okay acquiring, he got it protecting you, the women he loved, from Dream. He smiled softly as the smell of food wafted through the house from downstairs.

He'd never truly get used to your domesticity.

Technoblade's pants were next as he turned on the shower, he slid into the water once it warmed up to the appropriate temperature. He let the water cascade down his face, it stung his fresh wound but it felt good to finally feel clean and fresh. The shower went much faster than usual now that he didn't have all that hair to wash. After the shower he wrapped a towel around his waist, it hung low on his hips as he shook out his wet hair much like a dog. He decided to stick a little braid in his hair just so he could add a little flair, a knock sounded on the door and he met his own eyes in the mirror. The door opened with a soft creak and you were standing in the doorway with a smile. He flushed when you let out a low whistle,

"Didn't mean to disturb you, hot stuff." You winked and he gave you a sharp look to cover up his embarrassment. "What's that for? We literally have seen one another naked like a million times," You snickered your smile turning fond as you drank in his body.

"Hey. My eyes are up here Princess," He mused grabbing your chin to make you look in his eyes. Now it was your turn to flush and he smirked devilishly, "I'm glad you like what you see." You reached up and ran your fingers through his hair playing with the freshly cut ends,

"You cut your hair." You murmured still mesmerized by Technoblade's red eyes, he hummed softly staring at your beautiful features. "It looks amazing, I love it, and I love you," You spoke tenderly hands running down his chest.

"I love you too Princess," Technoblade murmured trying to ignore the roaring voices in the back of his mind. They were pleading with him to kiss her, mark her up and go feral on his wife. He took in a shaky breath and you frowned, "the voices," he let out a deep chuckle, "they love you."

SPICE

"I love them too. So listen to them and kiss me already." You yanked him close using the top of his towel, he made an embarrassing noise when his towel began to slip, he felt like praying when it stayed up by some grace of God. Your lips crashed together and he let out a breathy sigh relaxing into your blistering kiss, his hands landed on your hips and he squeezed them tightly. Technoblade nipped at your mouth, his tusks brushing against your upper lip, and you made a soft sound in the back of your throat when you felt them make contact. It made Techno and the voices preen in delight as he pushed you against the wall of your bathroom, his big hands sliding up the bottom of your shirt. He felt your hands tug at the hair by his scalp and he let out a deep groan,

'Neck. Bite her neck. Leave a mark, leave many! We don't care, do something. Please Technoblade listen to us!'

Technoblade growled under his breath as he attacked your neck, you let your head fall back against the wall. You let out a little sound of your own, and he purred deeply pleased by your reactivity.

'She'd make such a good mother.'

SPICE OVER

Technoblade's eyes snapped open and he pulled away from your neck, you let out a deep whine of protest. You reached out to him, hands falling on the back of his neck, chest heaving deeply. That thought intermixed with the wishes of the voices, you a mother? Him a father? The thought shook him to the very core no matter how much his body liked the thought.

"Bubs...?" You asked drearily, eyes blinking as you came down from your mini-high, "You okay?"

"Fine." Technoblade cleared his throat, his ears red and he refused to meet his wife's eyes, you frowned in concern.

"Too much?"

"Sorry," Technoblade murmured sheepishly and you shook your head, pinching the warrior's cheek.

"Don't apologize for that, I'm a big girl." You laughed softly kissing the tip of his nose, "I wanted to tell you lunch was ready before you rudely interrupted me."

"Eh? Rudely?" He huffed as you moved away from the wall, a teasing grin on your lips, he watched you walk away with a swing of your hips and he groaned in distress. Technoblade gathered himself together and got changed, as he came down the ladder to see you wearing a little apron and had lunch set up on the counter. His heart stopped in his chest, you were just too cute and domestic, "meat and potatoes?" He piped up sniffing the air as he sat down at the table you nodded happily.

"I know it's your favorite. I thought you deserved it after everything," You hummed softly cupping his cheek before sitting down across from him. Technoblade raised a hard eyebrow and clicked his tongue,

"It was nothing, just a flesh wound." Technoblade waved you off digging into his meal, "I meant it when I said I'd kill for you."

"I know you would, and believe me that is so hot. Even so, I'd be lost without you, so I just want to thank you." You bit your lip fiddling with the lace of your apron, "I'll never be able to repay you."

Technoblade put his fork down and huffed, "Stop talking nonsense Princess, got that? You're my wife now you don't need to repay me for anything." You looked at your lap and smiled shyly, "I love you."

"I love you more."

He scoffed with a fond eye roll but didn't argue with you, instead choosing to focus on his meal. Technoblade looked up at you as you finished up your food, with a soft hum he tilted his head to the side, "Princess?"

"What's up bubs?"

"We should do some trading in the Nether, before you say no, it's an easy enough adventure where I won't get hurt. We just wear some gold, and we'll be in and out." He watched your eyebrow twitch, "I will go with or without you. Just so you know." You flicked some potato at him which he scoffed at with an eye roll,

"Fine. We can go, but no fighting anything got that," You pointed a stern finger at him, Technoblade scoffed but agreed nonetheless. You both got adorned in your finest gold and Technoblade couldn't help but grab your neck, tilting your head upwards to swallow your lips with a kiss. You giggled softly as you both walked towards the Nether, his tail was wrapped around your waist as he glared at anything with a pulse. When you wore gold, his piglin protectiveness won over his usual aloof self. He couldn't stop glancing at the gold wedding band on your hand as you entered the portal, the piglin's heads already were paying attention to the newcomers. Techno let out a low growl underneath his breath and at least some of them seemed to get the picture, Techno split his gold bricks with you and the two of you parted. Oddly enough, Technoblade was having difficulty finding anyone to trade with him, they'd huff and tell him to get lost in piglin and that rubbed him the wrong way. He only ended up getting a few pearls and some soul sand, Technoblade moved to find his wife only to see you surrounded by a horde of his brethren. His jaw tensed as he saw you flush as a piglin desperately handed you some netherite, you thanked them softly and their squeals increased happily. They were complimenting you in piglin not that you would understand them, gushing about how pretty you were and how good you looked dripping in gold. Technoblade and the voices weren't amused. His brow furrowed as the voices demanded blood, he tried to march over but he was practically shoved out of the way when they saw him trying to get closer to you. Technoblade snarled at their advancements, his hand twitching at his sword just itching to grab at it and spill their blood, but he couldn't risk hurting you in the process.

Couldn't they smell him all over you? Did they just not care that you were his?

Before the Blade could do anything too rash you picked up your head and locked eyes with him, a beaming smile coming across your features.

"Technoblade!" You called throwing your hand in the air and waving it frantically, "Come here! They're being super kind!" The piglin's all turned their heads to face Technoblade, out of reflex his shifted into his pig form and walked over to you. This time, his brethren cleared a path for him to get through, He pulled you against his chest protectively, he buried his nose in your neck glaring at anyone who dared come close to his wife. Much to Techno's relief they all looked unhappy with the development and walked away from you, to which you pouted at, "You scared them away you big grump."

"Good I don't like them touching what's mine," he spoke calmly which caused you to flush red,

"We were just trading Tech," You spoke shyly motioning to all the valuables you collected. He nodded against your neck about to say something else but he growled deep in his throat instead and tightened his grip on your waist. A baby piglin, with a shining red eye, was holding up a gold ingot towards your person, you cooed fondly. The baby seemed unperturbed by Technoblade's looming appearance and attitude, "Hi baby! Do you want to trade?" The piglin nodded rapidly puffing out their little cheeks, your heart melted in your chest. "Tech let me go," You whined, "I wanna trade with the baby."

"No." He huffed, grumbling in his throat, "Don't want you to." The baby glared at him, stomping his little hoof, holding out the ingot higher. "Get out of here before I punt you, kid," He bared his teeth. The brave kid once more wasn't fazed instead he glared right back at Technoblade making a small snarl of his own. He had his own pair of tusks that were just starting to appear on his bottom lip and you gave a little squeal and Technoblade glared at you, "Don't coo at it!"

"He's so cute though!" You argued, finally squirming out of his hold, you knelt in front of the excited piglin, he handed you the gold ingot excitedly, you examined it carefully. Technoblade huffed at you entertaining the young piglin, you pocketed the gold and handed the piglin a poppy. His single eye widened considerably as he took the flower from your hands, you figured you'd give him something from the overworld. He looked shell shocked as he oinked happily wrapping you in a little hug, "Aw you're so welcome buddy!" You giggled fondly brushing the tufts of fur on his head, you plucked the poppy from his hands and placed it behind his ear. The piglin touched the flower lightly before scurrying down a nearby cobblestone pathway, "Bye little guy!" You called out a sad smile appearing on your face, Technoblade narrowed his eyes. He knew that look, you had the look when you'd look at the other children on the server.

"Don't even think about it."

"Think about what?" You blinked looking up at him, "do you mean- oh Jesus Technoblade I'm not going to kidnap a child."

"Or adopt it! It could be an orphan. We know how I feel about those," He pointed a finger in your direction, you rolled your eyes dramatically.

"Babe we're both orphans-"

"Sorry is that a Ghast? I can't hear you gotta fight it to protect you."

"You piece of shit." You scoffed as Technoblade picked up his bag from his last location and walked off, in the direction of said Ghast. "No fighting Ghasts! You promised!" You chased after him once you came to that realization, "Technoblade!"

Eventually, you caught up with your husband and scolded him for his recklessness, he only snickered at your mother henning. As the both of you stepped back through the portal Technoblade shifted back to his regular form, he took your hand and led you back to your little cabin. Normally Technoblade would use his trident trick to get home, but you were with him and wanted to walk by your side, considering you didn't have a trident...yet. He noticed his mailbox had footprints in front of the box, his brows furrowed, who was in his domain.

"Head inside Princess, I'll join you in a minute." Technoblade kissed your cheek softly, you gave a little nod. As Technoblade walked over to the mailbox and opened it, inside was a deep scarlet letter with a seal on the front. His nose scrunched up in distaste, he grabbed a small knife from his pocket and tore the letter open. The letter inside the envelope was a lighter shade of red, the note was from BadBoyHalo saying he had some business he'd like to discuss with himself and his wife. That immediately didn't sit right with Techno, it set off a ton of red alarms in his head. What did BadBoyHalo need to talk to you about? Technoblade kissed his teeth, he supposed this meeting would be alright so long as he was with you and could protect you and your mind from whatever the demon man was planning. What stirred him out of his thoughts was a slight movement in his bag, his entire body stilled and he slipped his bag off, tossing it into the snow. His bag squealed in distress and he pulled his sword off his body and aimed it at the bag. Technoblade must've been so distracted by you, and the letter in the mailbox, he must've missed the little movements in his bag. He gritted his teeth and snarled deeply, the first thing he noticed was bright pink piglin ears, popping out of his bag, then a bright red poppy. It was the baby piglin who had taken a liking to you earlier, his sword lowered a little bit as his eyes looked up and locked with Technoblades.

It reminded him of how Phil found Technoblade when he was a kid.

His Piglin was a bit rusty, especially his piglin for young kids but he tried his best to communicate with the young boy as he sat upon his knees. He was shivering a little not used to the drastic temperature change.

"What are you doing here kid?" He asked in rough piglin, which to anyone listening would just sound like grunts and squeals. The boy marveled at Techno and that he could speak his language it seemed,

"I want to be with the nice lady."

Technoblade furrowed his brows, a frown etching across his features, "You can't stay here." The kid didn't like that as he glared up at the taller hybrid, "You have a family in the Nether?"

"No." He huffed out with a rapid shake of his head, Technoblade inwardly cursed before picking up the Piglin by the scruff of his neck. He let out a few grunts of protest trying to attack Technoblade's hand as he dragged him into your shared home.

"(Y/n)! Get in here!" He shouted a small clip evident in his voice showing his frustration in his tone. You slid down the ladder in one fell swoop, Steve was by your side growling ferociously at the intruder in Technoblade's hands.

Good to know he could trust Steve to protect you.

"What's wrong? Where's the fire?" You already asked, ready for a fight, Technoblade almost swooned, almost. "Um...bubs is that a child?"

"It's not a child! It's the child!" He held him up higher to show off the poppy in his fur behind his ear, "Look what you did now it's attached to you!"

"Don't be mean!" You scolded your lover taking the kid from his hand, he automatically buried his head in the side of your neck. "Hey, buddy, what's going on huh?"

"He said he didn't have a family. He's attached to you now, therefore making him your problem." He watched you side-eyed him, giving him a very clear dirty look, "He doesn't have a name either." You ran your fingers through the top of the young boy's fur, rolling your lip between your bottom teeth in thought.

"Let's call him Aether." You looked over at Technoblade a teasing smile appearing on your face, "we'll build him a little secret room to keep him safe."

"Aether...Like the god of light and the sky? Isn't that ironic- wait...HEH, what do you mean his own room?" Technoblade blinked rapidly as you slid down the ladder into the basement, "Princess, get back here this conversation is not over!" He chased after you, and with a huff, Steve began to follow the both of you, too curious to just ignore the baby in your arms.

"We can re-purpose Tommy's old room! Fix it up after someone blew it up." You gushed as the piglin squealed in your arms approvingly, "we'll decorate it just how you like it, I'll even paint the walls."

"He's NOT our son (Y/N)-"

"Maybe not our son but he's MY son."

Why did that make Technoblade feel a million times worse? Is this how Phil's wife felt when she was alive when Phil tried to take him in from the Nether.

"I'm not leaving him to fend for himself, especially because he sought us out," You whispered tenderly, "It doesn't sit right with me Tech...please." Technoblade watched you look up at him through big sad eyes, "you don't have to be a parental figure if you don't want to, I won't force that role on you. But I want to take care of Aether, least till he's old enough to officially fend for himself."

Technoblade chose not to correct you that he was already capable of fighting his own battles.

"Fine." He relented with a loud sigh, "just don't get him killed. I don't want to deal with you being upset over a dumb orphan."

"Not dumb." You huffed nudging him in the side, "but thank you." He felt your lips brush the corner of his mouth and he visibly relaxed. "I promise I won't bother you with him either, he'll be my responsibility." You assured Aether grunted in your hold almost like he was in agreement with that plan. Technoblade glared at the child and huffed,

"He better not be," Technoblade said as if to promise himself that he would not get attached to the piglin in your arms that looked so much like your son it filled him with warmth. Steam exited his nose in frustration, and you gave him a gentle pat on the cheek, "I'll talk to Phil about getting him some warmer clothes, but that doesn't mean I like him." The smile on your face was almost worth discussing this child with Phil, but only almost, you gently placed Aether on a spare bed by Bob.

"For now," You ruffled his pink fur "You'll stay down here. If you need anything just call me okay? We'll get you a walkie-talkie you can decorate with some stickers." Technoblade groaned from behind you, he had to gather materials for another radio, for a baby. Aether nodded excitedly and snuggled against the soft covers of the bed, you kissed the top of his eye socket. Steve nuzzled Aether's hand and he gently rubbed the top of the polar bear's head, Steve seemed to dub the Piglin acceptable and rested his face on the edge of his bed. "Good boy Steve, watch out for my boy." You headed back up the ladder Technoblade followed behind you wearily, Phil was going to make fun of him for this, the old man was going to call him soft.

Marriage has made him soft and a shameful part of him liked that feeling of domesticity. He swallowed thickly glancing over at your bright smile, you turned towards him and figured the letter in his pocket could wait a few more days.

"I'm going to send a letter to Phil, so he can grab clothes for the orphan on his way back." Technoblade sighed softly rubbing the bridge of his nose, which caused the smile to slip off of your face.

'Apologize to her right now. It's a kid how hard can it really be? You can handle it, he makes her happy. But it's an orphan and it smells. Yeah, like the Nether and smoke. So does Technoblade.'

He huffed at the voices mentally flipping them off, before lifting his hand and placing it on the top of your head. He watched you look up at him through long lashes and (e/c) eyes, "I guess it's not that big of a deal you nerd. So don't get all frowny at me, okay? We'll keep the kid safe." The smile reappeared and he let out a sigh of relief he didn't realize he was holding in,

"You do care," you cooed fondly and his heart squeezed in his chest. "You're gonna be Aether's dad just you wait."

"Yeah, maybe when pigs fly."

"Tech-"

"Don't say anything," his face turned red, "you know what I meant." You giggled and kissed his cheek, he walked over to the window and sent a crow out for Phil. He jolted feeling your hands on his back running up and down, you slid in front of him.

"Thank you, for all you do for me." Your soft lips traveled across his cheek and onto his lips, "Let me repay you." He felt the tips of your fingers grab at his chin, his eyes dropped closed, tail wrapping around your waist to pull you flush.

"Oh?"

"Hmhm," You purred out as you pressed your foreheads together, you both screamed however when a loud slam sounded against the door. It was thrown open moments after Phil was standing in the doorway, wings ruffled and crows screaming behind him.

"What the FUCK do you mean you have a child! (Y/n) was pregnant?! Since when?! What the fuck!"

"Miscommunication!" Technoblade shouted flush coming across his face, "The crows twisted my words! Last time I rely on them to relay a message!" You burst into hysterical laughter falling against Technoblade's chest,

"This is not funny!" Both Phil and Technoblade said simultaneously, both equally confused and flustered. Phil got here so fast it was ridiculous and judging by the bag on his back he came fully prepared with clothing and all.

"I adopted a piglin from the Nether, he hid in my stuff, you thought I was pregnant?" You were cackling holding your stomach, "Phil what the fuck!"

"What?" He sputtered flabbergasted, "it's not like you both aren't fucking! You smell like him constantly, you can't blame me for jumping to conclusions."

"You saw me yesterday! You have a son!"

"Shut the fuck up! I panicked!" Phil threw the bag at you and you caught it in your arms, still snickering. Meanwhile, Technoblade was still recovering from Phil's scare, "I just...got some of Wilbur's old clothes. Some old toys as well, whatever I could find."

"Thank you, grandpa," You teased to which he turned slightly red, Technoblade glared in your direction.

"He's not grandpa."

"I can be," Phil added raising his finger in the air, Technoblade gaped at him,

"Don't encourage her!" You laughed tossing the bag in Technoblade's general direction, his fast reflexes allowed him to catch the bag. "What are you expecting me to do with this?"

"Go give it to him," He watched you smirk and wanted to wrap his hands around your neck. "You both need to bond,"

"You said earlier I didn't have to!"

"I lied." You bared your teeth in a big smile, chills went down his spine staring at your face, "You have to at least get along with Aether. Plus, Phil and I need to talk."

"We do?"

"We do."

"I'm being lied to." Technoblade growled, "I can't believe this betrayal. Let's all lie to Technoblade, I'm such a victim, having to tend to an orphan my wife adopted." You flipped Technoblade off as he slid down the ladder into the basement. Aether was still asleep on the bed when he came down, the bag across his shoulder felt heavy as nervousness seeped into his skin.

He literally killed people and blew up an entire nation, why was this child making him nervous.

'Throw the bag at it. Have it fend for itself. Don't do that (Y/n) will be upset with you! So, not my problem. It will be our problem if Technoblade gets divorced! DIVORCED?! SHE'D NEVER! E. But she could, do we really want to deal with that. That's a lot of work to clean up.'

The bed shifted, stirring Technoblade out of his racing thoughts, he swallowed thickly before taking a deep breath.

"Hey, kid, wake up." Technoblade gruffly scoffed, tossing the bag on the bed and kissing his teeth. The piglin made a distressed noise jolting up in the bed and pulling the covers over his little body. "Calm down it's just me, Technoblade," He spoke back in Piglin to the child who seemed to ease up a little bit. "(Y/n) and Phil got you some stuff so open the bag and check so I can leave."

Aether eyed him wearily as he opened the soft yellow bag, he began to pull the items out with slight awe. Despite his tough exterior, Technoblade was oddly curious as he walked a bit closer to look inside the bag. Aether pulled out a soft yellow and black striped sweater and rubbed it against his cheeks, it seemed to be amazed at the softness of the material. Technoblade couldn't help but laugh a little, once again he thought of the first time he was introduced to the same material. A pair of overalls was next, they were covered in colorful patches and Aether's eyes lit up excitedly. He watched him scramble back into the bag as a few more things were pulled out, like a coloring book, a few colorful pens, an old busted walkie-talkie, and a small stuffed crow. Phil just had to shove that in there, he couldn't believe that the old man's first thought when he thought (y/n) was having a baby was to find a little stuffed crow, biased little shit.

"Thank you," Aether spoke softly in Piglin towards Technoblade, he blinked a little rapidly.

"Thank your grandpa Phil," Technoblade grunted before coughing, "No not grandpa-"

"Grandpa!" He beamed brightly, his little tail wagging rapidly behind him, Technoblade rubbed his eyes tiredly.

"Just go get changed kid," He grumbled, "So you can show (Y/n)." Aether slid off the bed, sweater, and clothes in hand and stumbled into a nearby bathroom. He came out a few moments later clad in his new outfit, in the meantime, Technoblade sat on the edge of his bed. Aether did a little twirl placing his hands on his hips, Techno held out a weak thumbs up and he seemed satisfied with that answer. Aether flopped back on the bed next to Technoblade and leaned against the pillows, an awkward silence stretched between the both of them. "Anyway...I guess I'll head back upstairs." Technoblade raised his hand and motioned to the ladder, his body tensed and it took all his willpower not to kick the child across the room as his instincts screamed at him to do. He blinked a few times and noticed Aether grabbed at his hands in order to get a closer look at the gold adorning his fingers. Aether began to run his hands over his gold rings,

ah, that made more sense.

"You like my rings?" Technoblade questioned watching him nod eagerly as he wiggled his fingers, "yeah I like 'em too. Got some for my Princess too, that's (Y/n)."

"Princess?"

"Hmhm, she looks beautiful in them," Technoblade hummed softly, an adoring look appearing on his face. Aether looked like he was holding onto every word, "We treat (Y/n) with respect she deserves understand? I see you messing with her. I mess with you back, got that kid?" Aether nodded,

"Same to you."

Technoblade barked out a small laugh and ruffled the fluff on top of Aether's head, "Off to a good start kid." Aether smiled shyly before going back to examining his jewelry, Technoblade shifted to get a little more comfortable as Aether settled in his lap. He continued to examine and twirl Technoblade's rings around until he glanced up and caught sight of his golden crown on top of his head. He desperately reached up for it and Technoblad leaned away from his grubby little hands, "Sorry, the crowns off-limits kids." Aether huffed puffing out his cheeks and Technoblade grumbled reluctantly placing the crown on his head, it was far too big for his little skull as it slipped past his forehead. He made some happy sounds and readjusted the crown, he leaned back against Technoblade relishing in not only the gold but also the attention.

Technoblade huffed out a laugh, maybe having a kid around wouldn't be so bad after all.

He looked back down at Aether and noticed the kid was asleep on his chest, his body locked up completely frozen in terror. Now, what was he going to do? He was trapped underneath a sleeping child, he awkwardly tried to maneuver Aether off himself but the kid had a strong grip on his chest. Technoblade cursed under his breath and figured he might as well get comfortable if he was trapped, he felt warm beneath the piglin and eventually drifted off to light sleep.

Philza and you quietly descended the ladder down into the basement, Technoblade hadn't come back up and the both of you were growing suspicious. You had to cover your mouth to stop an excited squeal from leaving your mouth, both your boys were cuddling on the bed, Technoblade's crown was slipping off Aether's head. You looked excitedly over at Phil whose face was soft and fond,

"Go on, take a picture." Phil glanced over at you motioning to the boys in bed before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a disposable camera.

"Thanks, Phil," You whispered snapping a quick picture of the bed, the click of the camera caused Technoblade's ears to twitch. The photograph came spitting out of the camera and you shook it waiting for it to develop, you were so hanging this picture up where everyone could see it. From across the room Technoblade's eyes cracked open, Phil nudged you forward,

"I'll head out, go spend time with your family." He ruffled the top of your head and flew up the ladder swiftly,

"Hm...was that Phil?" Technoblade grumbled under his breath, voice still deep with the hint of sleep.

"Yeah bubs," You whispered tenderly walking over to the edge of the bed, "he figured it was time to head out." You brushed strands of pink hair out of his eyes and he leaned into your touch, "make some room big guy." With an annoyed grumble, Technoblade moved over so you could lay down beside him and Aether, you gently brushed your thumb across the fur on the baby's cheeks. Just like your big warrior husband he snuggled against your hand. "So, I take it he's grown on you?"

"Shut up and go to sleep." Technoblade grumbled reaching over Aether to rest his big hand on your head, "hm tired." He closed his eyes and ignored your giggles, you pulled the blankets over the three of you and you drifted off into a deep sleep.

Meanwhile, underneath L'manburg the egg began to breathe and pulsate with life, it yearned to have the couple once again in the palm of its hand just like it did decades prior. Sir Billiam and Lady (Y/n) were their names if it remembered correctly, they'd follow in the eggs wishes again, that it knew for certain. Meeting them again was going to be fun.

~~~

@iamsuchasimp @victory-is-here @pastelmoonwitche @ignat1usaquar1us @v10dw4lk3r

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bakugosbratx · 3 years

Text

Warnings: 18+ content. Pregnancy, angst, sexual intercourse, cursing, vomit, pregnancy symptoms, etc.

Words: 2,139

Check out my other works here

A/N: I have kept y’all waiting long enough. You wanted a part two, I must deliver. Enjoy this train wreck. I hope y’all enjoy. Also, there will be a part three if requested.

Part One | Part Three

Tags: @awilddreamerwrites @peachsenpie @miriobaby @bakugousbrat @quietlegends @lil-miminini @sickchildren @milkthistletea

Things progressed as normal after that day. Any time Katsuki had a stressful week, you were called in for a personal meeting or coaching. This would always end up with you bent over his desk, his length deep inside your begging hole, and your face shoved deep into his freshly printed reports.

All was normal.

Katsuki has not cum inside you again since that day. Anytime you attempted to bring it up, he brushed it off as an “accident that will never happen again.” You are supposed to leave it at that. You felt fine, right?

You were sitting in another boring meeting that seemed to drag on for hours upon hours. Still, you held a professional face and did your best to remain present, but your stomach turned. Before you knew it, you are on the floor, vomiting into a trash can in front of Katsuki’s investors. This ticked off your boss in more ways than one.

Helping you up with a strong grip, he leads you to the restroom with you hanging onto the small white bin. His grip became softer as he sees you regurgitate your lunch into the trash some more.

“If you’re going to fucking vomit, at least have the decency to do it in private, dumbass.” Katsuki growls in his own caring way, holding the public restroom door open for you to enter inside. You ran to the nearest bathroom stall, not even giving yourself a chance to lock it behind you as you puke into the toilet bowl.

You eventually calm your stomach down, washing your mouth out with water in the sink and popping in a piece of gum to get rid of the disgusting aftertaste. Fixing yourself in the mirror, you stroll into Katsuki’s office. His chin rested on the palm of his hand, focusing on his computer until heard the office door shut behind you. His rubies trailed to your figure. Your cheeks became hot as you start to feel flustered.

“I’m so sorry—“

“Damn right you should be.” Katsuki snapped, interrupting you. “You have some nerve walking back into my office after you just embarrassed me in front of my investors.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.” You sighed, already feeling bad enough for what happened. Katsuki stands up and walks over to you, putting the back of his hand on your forehead to feel the temperature.

“If you felt sick, why didn’t you stay home? I give you more than enough sick time.” Katsuki grumbled.

“I felt fine this morning.” You genuinely state. Katsuki towered over your body, deciphering what he should do with you. Even though he is affiliated with you, he could also fuck you senseless right about now. You tend to have that effect on him.

“How are you feeling now?” Katsuki questioned.

“I feel okay.” You shrugged. Katsuki led your hand to the zipper of his slacks. The hardening of his large cock is felt against the palm of your hand, a devious smirk tugging at Katsuki’s soft lips as he nibbles on your earlobe.

“Think you can handle my cock down your pretty little throat?” Katsuki growls into the depths your ear.

You legs felt weak as lust took over. You did not even have time to answer as you were placed on your knees, Katsuki’s leaking tip pressed on your lips, begging for entrance. You gladly oblige, taking every inch into your mouth, happy that your boss is showing you mercy.

Katsuki propped himself with one arm against the door as you take in every bit of him. A steady rhythm that entered and exited your mouth to be repeated right after.

“Yeah, like that, baby. You feel so fucking good.” Katsuki groaned in delight, your choking noises singing little melodies to him while one hand rested in your hair.

Saliva surrounded Katsuki’s cock and dribbled down your chin. Your makeup became smeared as your body reacted to the invasion of Katsuki’s member. It wasn’t long after until he released himself into your throat, every dropped is sure to be milked by you.

Mornings became a common thing you did not seem to understand. You always awakened in a rush to go to the bathroom and regurgitate last night’s supper. Still, you power through it and arrive at work on time. There is definitely more frequent trips to the restroom, even at the worse of moments.

Katsuki had enough.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Katsuki exclaimed after you arrive back to his office from yet another toilet trip.

“What do you mean?” You questioned, unsure of what he meant.

“You’ve been acting fucking weird lately. Always vomiting and shit. It’s getting annoying. As your boss, I’m ordering you to go to the damn doctor.” Katsuki demands, his arms folded with his infamous scowl.

“I’m fine, Katsuki. Really.” You lied. He furrowed his eyebrows.

“Well, get checked out anyways. I don’t need you getting anyone else sick.”

Sighing, you knew you had no choice. You made a same day doctor’s appointment and attended to it as Katsuki requested. Running a few test, they all came back negative except for one.

“You can’t be serious.” You gasped in disbelief, not believing the blood test can be accurate.

“I am serious, Y/N. You’re pregnant.” Doctor Hyuga reassured your worse fear.

You are pregnant with the CEO’s baby.

The drive home was silent. You did not want to listen to the radio or hear about some contest. The doctors’ words were deafening enough. This wasn’t supposed to happen nor did you ever think it could.

“How am I going to tell Katsuki?” You asked aloud to yourself in the car, parking it at your apartment complex. Tears brimmed your eyes at the thought of what could happen. Katsuki has stated more than once his disinterest for children.

“They’ll just get in my damn way.” He would always say when the question ever arises. You always brushed it off because he has always been so careful. You both have yet you are in your apartment, sitting on the sofa, looking at the positive test on your doctor summary chart.

You lost track of time on how long you have been sitting in the same spot, not moving a single centimeter since you plopped down. You know you need to remain well nourished for the sake of the fetus, but you are honestly not ready for kids. You know Katsuki isn’t either. Still, you forced yourself to have a balanced meal and a refreshing glass of water before getting ready for slumber.

You did your best to avoid Katsuki at all cost. You always tend to linger around his space just like he wanted you to, but you locked yourself into your office, trying to put your mind anywhere else. Katsuki did notice it, but the man is quite busy, so he did not address it right away. You still always showed up for the frequent dick appointments so he figured everything is fine. You made sure to keep conversation to a minimum, though. Something else Katsuki found strange since you loved to talk his ear off. He is not a man of many words, but he is a good listener and enjoyed your voice filling up the vacant space.

The weekend have finally arrived. You are lounging on the couch, sweat pants and a t-shirt is your fashion choice of the day, while you catch up on your television shows. A hard knock on the door surprises you, but you race to go get it, hoping it’s your to-go order waiting.

“Coming!” You called, grabbing the cash off the dining table and jogging to the door. Opening the front door wide, your heart begins to race.

“K-Katsuki?” You stammered, surprised at his appearance. He has never showed up to your place before. You two tend to only see and have conversations at work so this is definitely not what you are expecting.

“We need to talk.” Katsuki sternly states, welcoming himself in. You are slightly embarrassed since you were not expecting company. Your place is not nearly cleaned up to standard nor did you ever want Katsuki to know you live in this specific apartment complex.

“Hey, you can’t just barge in. Besides,” you close and lock the door with a sigh, turning to face Katsuki, “how do you know where I live?”

“Your file, dumbass.” Katsuki shrugs, examining your place. You begin fidgeting with your hands in nervousness.

“Well, excuse the mess. I wasn’t expecting company.” You admit, scratching the back of your neck awkwardly.

“I can tell, but that’s not what I’m here for.” Katsuki revealed, folding his arms and sternly gazing at you. Your limbs slightly quivered under the intense gaze.

“T-Then what are you here for?” You dare to inquire, growing more anxious by each passing moment.

“Why have you been acting so damn weird? Ever since the doctors appointment you have been acting strange. I want to know what they said.”

“Oh,” you laugh nervously. “That. Yeah, I just been,” you paused to find the right word, “busy.”

“Busy?” Katsuki mocked, not fond of how bad of a liar you are. “Cut the crap, Y/N. I want to know what happened and I want to know right now.”

“It’s nothing, Katsuki!” You swore, a little too defensive for your own good, but Katsuki isn’t buying it as his eyebrows knit together. The veins in his forehead became more present as the short tempered man is getting more frustrated.

“Fine, since you don’t have the balls to fucking tell me. I’ll find out my damn self.” Katsuki barked, beginning to search your apartment. You immediately attempt to stop him with no avail.

“Katsuki, stop!” You pleaded, but it was no use. His eyes scanned everywhere until he found your summary papers laying on the dinning table. Your heart raced as he went over the documents, the house feeling silent as you wait for him to get to the next page.

You stood back in fear, waiting for the worse. With a single flip of the paper, Katsuki saw it. His heartbeat stopping like yours when you found out the news. Time sat still as you waited for Katsuki’s reaction. You are expecting the worse case scenario and honestly, he is too.

“You’re pregnant.” Katsuki disclosed after some time went by. You nodded, his back still facing you.

“Yes,” you gulped with a shiver, “I am.”

“And why didn’t you tell me?” Katsuki seethed, the documents in his grip getting crumbled due to his anger.

“I-I was going to, I j-just—“

“You just what, Y/N? Spit it out.” Katsuki fumed in impatience, turning to face you. Tears already streamed down your cheeks as you looked down in shame.

“I was scared you would be mad at me!” You exclaimed, breaking down in more tears. You have not told anyone about your pregnancy. You are still accepting it yourself.

“Be mad at you?” Katsuki scornfully chuckled. “I’m fucking pissed. We agreed this shit wasn’t supposed to happened!”

“Don’t you think I know that, Katsuki?” You shot back.

“Obviously not since you’re fucking pregnant!”

Silence fell over you two as you began to sob. Katsuki is too busy attempting to calm down as he paces, grabbing the bridge of his nose, making snide remarks under his breath. He does know this is his fault as well, but in the heat of the moment, Katsuki cannot help but blame you.

“How do I know it’s mine?” Katsuki finally speaks, still not as calm as you both would prefer. You gaze up at him.

“Huh?”

“How do I know it’s mine and not fucking Deku’s?” Katsuki repeats through gritted teeth, the thought creating more friction between you two.

“I only had sex with Izuku once and he never came in me. Only you have.” You explained, sniveling at the fact Katsuki would even think that way.

“I don’t believe you.” Katsuki grumbles, heading towards the door.

“Wait!” You cried in panic, trying to get the bulk man to stop. He slapped your hand away when you attempted to touch him.

“Don’t you dare touch me!” Katsuki bellowed. You take a few steps back, tears still gushing from your eyes. “You have been lying to me this entire time.”

“I—“

“Shut up,” he pauses to try to collect his thoughts as tears brim his eyes, “I’m not going to fire you, but what we have is over.”

You could not find the words to say. How could you? The hurt in Katsuki’s voice for the tales he believes. They aren’t even true but any protest is shut down. From then on, not another word was spoken as you watch Katsuki walk out your front door, leaving you all alone.

©bakugosbratx

#tw vomit #tw blood #tw pregnancy #tw pregnancy symptoms #tw morning sickness #bakugosbratx #bakugo x female reader #bratx request #bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugou #katsuki bakugō #mha katsuki #bakugo smut #bakugou smut #bakugou katsuki smut #katsuki bakugo imagine #katsuki bakugo fluff

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shivada-jade · 3 years

Text

songs of a siren

characters: venti, beidou, kazuha, albedo ➡ mention(s): xiangling, ningguang, sucrose, timaeus, peepaw warning(s): yo ho ho me hearties

note: whenever i write venti, i always have 27 tabs of rhymezone opened up. my rhyming vocabulary will be unstoppable in a few weeks time. no one can stop me, it will be sublime

Venti:

Venti has seen many things in his free-spirited life. He's seen many different lives and creatures, but something he has never seen before are the fabled sirens of the sea.

"Beware of the sirens!" The old captains of Teyvat warned, "Their music is captivating and will drown you into sea."

"Music?" The bard asks with sparkling eyes.

The old sea captain squints her eyes. "Bard, do you have selective hearing? The sirens will drown you in sea."

Venti laughs, "But I've never heard of singing sirens! Just sirens. I wish to see one."

"Younglings these days," the captain shakes her head, tipping her chair back just enough so she wouldn't fall.

"I'm actually older than I look, you can see me in many books," he chuckles, hopping off the table right outside of Angel's Share.

"Thank you for your sea tips captain!" He says, tipping his hat in a bow with a hand behind his back. "I'll put it to jolly good use. With your knowledge, I'll make sure nothing bad will happen!"

Venti sneakily snatches an apple from a sleeping person's hand and saunters on his way, whistling a few notes.

"Sirens of the Sea will be my next tune!"

Everyday, Venti comes out playing his lyre to the sea, hoping he would be able to hear someone sing back. He made his winds carry his song to the deepest part of the waters, trying to catch the attention of sirens.

And everyday, he would return to the tavern, fruitless as the patrons pat his back singing a drunken song.

The young adults nearby would shake their heads, kindly telling Venti that sirens are not real. The grandparents' eyes would twinkle when they heard Venti playing the song for the sirens while kids would sit next to Venti who played his lyre at the docks.

His green cape flew back as he played a different style of music, one that's more mellow and calm compared to the upbeat kind he plays so often. There, he swears he sees the flip of a tail far beyond the ocean.

He bid farewell to the children and apologize for not being to able to play more music for them. "I'll be back if you bring apples!"

Venti waves goodbye and walks out the exits of Mondstadt.

His legs brush the long grass, reaching to touch his hand as he hikes up Starsnatch Cliff, until he remembers he can fly. Oops.

Swirls of teal lift his feet, representing the winds carrying him to the top. The blue of the sky reflected on the waters, and he decides today is the perfect day to sing for his siren again.

Letting his lashes rest on his cheeks, he plays the same mellow tune at the docks, sometimes peeking with one eye to see if the siren is there.

That's when he hears it. The sound of a loud splash ringing in his ear. His lyre playing turns quick and exited, when looking down to see a bobbing head, and a colourful siren tail behind it.

Venti waves his hand wildly, stopping his lyre playing momentarily.

"A real siren!"

The siren freezes, and sinks a bit deeper in the water. The green bard slowly floats down with a friendly smile.

"Did you enjoy my music?" He asks in glee, waiting for an answer. Venti hovers right above the water so his clothes won't get wet. He sees the siren's eyes look at the instrument in his hand and pushes it to their face, making them lean back a bit from shock. "Do you wanna try the lyre?"

"The lyre?" The siren repeats, gliding a finger on the wood of the instrument.

"Just don't sing okay? I can't drown yet, my pride is still high, and the kids there would be in dismay."

The siren laughs, now gripping on the lyre, "Do you always speak like this?"

"Yep!" He says, relieved you feel comfortable with him and seem friendly too. He scratches the back of his head. "Although... you're taking this lightly. Is it true your singing drowns people?" He asks politely.

The tip of the siren's finger touches their lip, thinking. "Well, in some cases, it does."

Venti's eyes widen.

"But not in the way your folktale mention it!" The siren continues, now clasping on the lyre that Venti let go of, playing a few strings. "Sometimes when our folk sing, the sailors are curious where the singing comes from. But the sailor that spread the story of the deadly, singing sirens is The Sailor That Can't Swim."

"The Sailor That Can't Swim? Now that's a tale I need to hear! Though, I must say, I do pity for him."

The siren splashes Venti, making him dripping in cold water. The berette on his head now droops to his eyes. He grins mischievously as he wrings the water out, showing the hair he hides. A strong gust of wind dries the siren's face, making them go back in the water to splash Venti.

"Right, so," the siren pops out their head again. "It was my great great grandfather that actually sang the song. The sailor was curious and fell off his ship, but he didn't know how to swim and drowned. His first mate blamed my great great grandfather's singing for making his captain drown. We're not bad actually. We stopped singing music so close to the surface."

"Wouldn't that be a sight," the bard hums, listening to the song you play on his lyre while looking at the sky above. "Say, Siren. What do you want me to call you? Let me know before the day turns night"

"You ask me my name before telling me yours?" The siren teases, giving his lyre back.

"Ah! My apologies, I'm Venti the bard!... Uh, I can't seem to get a word that rhymes with 'apologies' that go great with my sentence, so I hope you accept my repentance."

"It's alright." The siren says. "I'm [Name]. It's not everyday I can make friends with someone from the surface."

[Name] draws a figure in the air. "My first surface friends told me to be wary of others, but I think I can trust you," [Name] glances at the green glass, strapped on Venti's hip. "One of them even has the same looking glass orb as you. A vision he called it."

Venti shrugs with a smile, feeling like he knows the person the siren was referring to, "I would like to make a song for you, [Name]. Let's have others know what a wonderful siren you are."

Kazuha:

He sits at the side of the ship, playing his leaf like a flute beautifully. The crewmates on The Crux hum the same notes on repeat. They are broken records.

"Even the sturgeon and the ray, they get the urge and start to play!" A kid sings out loud, skipping behind Kazuha.

"Hmm hmm mmm" the kid hums, replacing the words he doesn't know with just the tune itself. "Under the sea!"

Kazuha sighs, letting go of his leaf for the ocean winds to take. His finger traces the lines of the ship, bored and somewhat annoyed. Beidou's crew had been singing the same song for hours after leaving Liyue, showing no signs of ever stopping. It was like a curse.

He looks over the horizon, the crescent moon shining on the ocean, making the ripples turn to satin sheets covering the water. The world is asleep, but not The Crux Crew.

He lets his hair free from the tie; snow hair moves with the breeze, waiting for his friend to appear.

A tall woman settles her hand on the boy's shoulders, sighing. "It's time to get rest. Your siren friend won't come, especially if sirens don't exist," she says saying the last part to herself.

"Beidou," Kazuha greets without turning his head.

"Come on, kid," Beidou insists. "It's late."

Kazuha stays seated, looking over the waters to find his siren friend. "I think I'll stay here a bit more. The ocean calls me as much as the wind."

He feels Beidou's hand leaving is shoulder. He silently thanks him for respecting his wishes.

"Good night, Captain. See you tomorrow," he says waving her off.

The sea captain lifts a hand while turning away, even when she knows Kazuha isn't looking.

Kazuha waits.

He waits some more.

Maybe Beidou is right. His siren friend won't be back today. He'll just wait again tomorrow.

He begins to stand until he sees a familiar figure in the ocean.

"[Name]," he breathes out gently.

A shimmering siren tail waves at him instead of a hand. Kazuha laughs and waves eagerly. He walks along the side, reaching one of the 'emergency boats' strapped on the ship and untangles its ropes, letting it fall to the ocean with a splash.

He gently falls down, the winds he summons cushioning his landing onto the small boat. His ruby eyes spot something in your hand and he asks about it.

"This? A weird green boy gave me this thing called a lyre. Said he had tons more so he gave me this one after making a song with me." [Name] presents it to Kazuha with both hands, grinning. "The boy even taught me a song."

"Oh?" He tilts his head, "Go ahead, play the song. Perhaps some day we may duet."

The siren sends him a thumbs up and start pulling the strings of a lyre.

Kazuha feels his eye twitch. "This song... what's the name?"

"Do you not like it?"

"No it's just... the crew was singing this song all day. I was wondering what song it is."

"Oh the green boy and I made it. I didn't know it would go that famous!"

"Hmm, keep playing."

Kazuha didn't mind the song the siren plays. After all, when [Name] plays the song, it sounds enchanting. He understands why people tend to fall overboard when hearing a siren play music. In fact, he almost drowned himself when hearing his siren friend sing for the first time.

...

He was preparing a boat to escape Inazuma by a secluded beach covered with sakura trees and many plants of nature.

Placing the planks in one spot, he hears a song in the sea.

Strange.

Enchanted by the singing, he walks out to sea. The water reaching his ankles, his knee then soon his chest to look for what was making the music. The sounds of nature call him back, desperately trying to make him safe, but he was too curious. The singing stops and Kazuha sinks under the sea to hear clearer, but instead his eyes widen and a few bubbles escape his mouth.

Glowing eyes stare at him.

A few scales pattern adorning their face. He looks behind the face and sees a tail, a fish tale. He knows it's a siren.

He sinks deeper, noting the details on the siren. How human ears aren't there, it's replaced by these webbed-like frills looking like a crown. He is amazed, and it seems the siren is too by seeing land legs for the first time so close.

Kazuha kicks his feet up, remembering he needs air to breathe, but a pesky seaweed wrapped around his leg, not letting go. The salt water stings his eyes, hurting more from every second. The lungs that need air start to fail him.

The siren in front of him flicks it's tail, quickly weaving their hands to untangle the boy from the seaweed.

The last of the bubbles escape Kazuha's lips. He shuts his eyes as he feels the drag of a current and the arms of the siren taking him to who knows where.

"So many... regrets," he thinks, letting himself be carried by a creature from only fairytales.

His head breaks the water tension and he immediately gasps for air. He coughs out water, chest heaving against the sandy beach, trying to calm himself. He stills, watching the siren lay on their stomach next to him, drawing flowers and fishes on the sand with the tip of their finger.

Sand sticks on Kazuha's wet skin and clothes.

"Thank you," he says weakly.

The siren perks their head up, hearing Kazuha's voice. "You're welcome!" They return to drawing on the sand and speak up without diverting attention from the drawing, "You're... the first human I've met."

Kazuha props himself up, his elbows acting as support. "Oh really? You're the first siren I met."

"No, duh. You had this dumb look on your face when you saw me," the siren teases, now looking at Kazuha. "All the other sirens say that humans are looking to hurt us. Why is it you don't want to hurt me?"

"Well- I was on the verge of dying."

The sound of feet stomping on the ground startles Kazuha and his new friend. Both of them sit up straight, feeling the ground shake.

"The Raiden Shogun..."

Kazuha flips his head to his unfinished boat and stands, quickly trying to complete it.

"Human," the siren calls, now back in the ocean. Kazuha looks at the siren. "Your broken boat will not take you anywhere. Just hold on to my back."

Kazuha chuckles and runs to the siren, knowing what they said is true. The guards will take him the second they reach him.

He trudges through the water, and clasps his arms around the siren's neck. "I know of a ship that can hide me for the time being." He says.

"So... what's your name?"

...

The song [Name] plays ceases, and Kazuha claps his hands lightly, careful not to wake the crew. He gives a small, "Heh" and leans on his small boat to be closer to the siren's face.

Their faces draw closer and [Name's] cheeks feel warm. Kazuha looks like a prince under the moon and stars shining on him.

Delicate hands make their way to cradle [Name's] jaw, making their foreheads touch. His thumb swipes [Name's] bottom lip all while gazing into their dilated eyes.

"I think your siren family are calling you," Kazuha says cheekily and quickly moving back away from [Name] after hearing the sound of other sirens calling for them.

"Oh, I- Well-" [Name] takes a deep breath before speaking, "Will you be here again?"

"Just as the moon awaits for the sun to rise once more, I will stay as well. I'll wait for your arrival once more at the same spot."

Beidou:

The well known Captain of the Crux Fleet does not believe in sirens. Dragons and the water form called Osial is one thing. Sirens, or better yet- merpeople are a kids' tale in her mind. Not even after Kazuha telling her he befriended a siren.

It's a child's tale; a myth not to believe in, which is ridiculous in Kazuha's opinion because they live in a world of myths.

She stands, sitting on a box of crates, peeking at her anemo wielding friend untangle the ropes of the emergency boat to get down closer to the waters.

Despite her crew telling her to rest at nights, she doesn't. As captain, it's her duty to keep watch after all her crew members, ensuring full safety on the fleet. She watches Kazuha always docking down from her ship to he his siren, but she never follows, only seeing his white hair descend from her sight.

Kazuha harnesses the wind to lift himself up back on the ship after hours being with the so-called siren. His hands move, controlling the wind once again to lift the boat, strapping it back on the ship. His ruby eyes glint to Beidou, who waves at him.

"Enjoy time with the siren?"

Kazuha sighs, knowing Beidou's doing this for the sake of it. "Beidou, they're real. My friend and every other siren in the waters." He says, trying to cover his flushed face by turning away from her.

"Right, right. Well, you only have one hour to sleep at most until the sun rises again."

"What about you?" Asks Kazuha, his back still facing Beidou. "Not even the bravest of warriors could stand their posts if they lack the energy to do so."

Beidou places her hands on her hips and laughs, "Come on, kid. I'll even tuck you in."

"Thank you... but I'm quite sure I can tuck myself in."

"Nonsense. You'll be tucked in."

She takes Kazuha to his own chambers in the ship, amused how he did not struggle against her.

After tucking him in, the tall captain stands at the figure of her ship and overlooks the sea. It is coincidental how when the topic of sirens came up the conversations, there was a song accompanied by it. The song will be the death of her.

Her chestnut hair weaves in the wind as she inhales deeply, enjoying the crisp air. She spots the seen peeking out from it's blanket of blue waves. She is blessed with another day.

One by one, her crew starts to file out. She greets them a good morning and with a surprise, "Crew! We're heading to Liyue. Chef Xiangling sent her kind invitation to eat for free!"

Woops and hoorays echo. Food made by Xiangling is the best.

The Captain lifts a hand and everyone quiets, "Set sail to Liyue!"

Upon reaching Liyue, Beidou swears something was following them, but every time she looks back, there would be nothing. She shrugs it off, thinking it was the lack of sleep getting to her and continues to lower the sails, preparing to land.

"I'll meet you there," she tells her crew. They accept their orders, already knowing were to go. They chatter their way to Wanmin Restaurant. She turns to Kazuha, seeing as he won't leave without her. "Kazuha, has something been following us?" She asks, knowing his sensitivity to things around him.

"Yes, but you won't believe me if I said what, or who, was following us."

Beidou groans, "Kazuha, sirens are just a folklore. I've spent years in my reckless teenage life looking for sirens. There just aren't any." She slaps Kazuha's back, "Let's go eat. You still look weary."

Kazuha purses his lips, looking at his Captain dead in the eyes. "[Name] is waiting below this ship. [Name] wouldn't follow us to Liyue unless something needs to be said." He waits for Beidou's reply.

"Alright, it's about time I met this siren friend of yours."

Surprised, Kazuha parts his mouth. "Wait, really?"

Beidou gives no answer, but instead unties the boat Kazuha uses to go 'meet his siren friend.' She waits on the tiny boat for Kazuha to join. When he takes a step in, Beidou releases the ropes she was once holding and falls to the ocean. This part of the ship is hidden from the people of Liyue, and Kazuha thanks his luck because who knows what people will do when they see a siren?

The small boat rocks side to side, balancing itself. Beidou lazily reaches for the water and splashes Kazuha's face who only tightens his lip in response. "Relax," the woman teases. "Your friend will be here if they're real, right?"

Kazuha summons a leaf, twiddling it with his fingers, waiting until he jumps in the water.

Beidou sharply turns to Kazuha, leaning over the boat to reach for him. "Kazuha!"

She jumps in after him with a smooth dive.

And that's when she sees that sirens are true.

The salt water stings her eyes as she looks at Kazuha making hang motions, pointing to her and up to the surface. The siren nods, understanding, swimming to Beidou. They wave, chuckling with the jaw-slacked face the sea captain makes.

Bubbles escape her lungs, so she treads up quickly, breathing in the air and then coming back down. Kazuha swims beside the siren and shows a smug face, as if saying "What did you say about sirens?"

Divine is the only word to describe Kazuha's siren friend. From the shimmering tale to the beauty of their smile, Beidou can only describe the siren as simply divine (a word Ningguang taught her).

The siren's webbed-like ear perks up to the surface. They tap Kazuha's shouder and cup their ears and point up.

Breathtaking.

Beidou notes how Kazuha and his friend communicate with each other so effectively with only a look in the eye and a few hand movements.

Kazuha nods, smiling then swims up to the surface, but Beidou stays, amazed by the tail of the siren.

"Up," the siren mouths. Beidou remembers the pain in her lungs for not having to get air in a while. She swims up, giving the siren one last look and breaking free from the water.

Strands of brown hair stick to her skin, looking at Kazuha with so much child-like wonder.

"Kazuha, is your siren friend single by any chance?"

Albedo:

Rumours of the singing siren spread through Mondstadt. Greeting Timaeus and Sucrose, he ignores the new song that spread around Teyvat called "A Siren's Tale," but he can't help but wonder if the tales are true.

On rare days Albedo isn't on Dragonspine or his office, he's sketching alongside the water and the marine life inside. It's a new interest he's taken in after learning everything above land. The ocean is so huge, there's an endless amount of questions under the sea.

He finishes the last stroke of a drawing. The Snapdragon and the crab next to it look realistic in his canvas. He sits on an isolated rock, a good distance away from the beach, enjoying the calming tunes of the ocean.

Wait- tunes?

He almost drops his canvas and charcoal, making eye contact with a bobbing head. Curious eyes flit from Albedo to his sketch in hand.

His immediate reaction is to create a flower to lift and up to glide back to shore, but he can't.

The stranger drifts closer to the rock Albedo sits on, revealing a tail that flickers behind it.

A siren.

"You aren't Venti, but I'll take it. I love someone of arts and crafts

Albedo tilts his head quizzically, charmed, "I am indeed not Venti, but thank you for the compliment." He takes a while, studying the details on the siren. "You're not what the song describes you as."

Lifting themselves onto the rock beside Albedo, the siren brings up their tail to wrap around what they sit on. "The song? Oh the one Venti made. I'm so sure we described myself perfectly, partly because I helped make it."

Albedo takes another canvas from his bag and draws circles to get the base of a face, "Well, physically yes. It captures your looks, but never did it once mention how enchanting you are."

The siren sputters, obviously not expecting a stranger to flirt. "What- huh?"

Albedo laughs, looking at the siren that sits next to him, analyzing their features before returning to his sketch. "I apologize. Socializing is not my thing."

"Yeah, I could tell. People usually tell me their names before saying things like that. Granted, I only met three other people before you."

"One being Venti?"

"Yeah. I visit him around this time everyday, but he said he's struggling to pay back a bartender so he's hiding with an old friend in Liyue. His friend's name is Peepaw. Should've been back by now, but he's gone."

"..Oh."

Two fingers push down the drawing and he looks at the siren, confused.

"Are you drawing me?" They grin. "It's fantastic, but why?"

Albedo explains, "I tend to sketch what fascinates me. Your beauty was surprising, I couldn't help but draw you." His charcoal grazes the canvas so swiftly, it's dancing on ice. The black tool turns to a stub, until it turns to nothing but ashes on his finger. His sketch is only half finished.

"Excuse this lousy drawing. I appear to be out of charcoal."

The siren jumps into the water and comes back up with rusted metal from a sword. "Will this work?"

"Ah, that's a sword. I can't use that for sketching."

"Oh..."

Albedo lifts a finger, a thought is said out loud, "I realize I have yet to ask your name. I'm Albedo, Chief Alchemist of The Knights of Favonius."

"Wow that's a long name." The siren takes a deep breath and speaks in one go, "Hello, Albedochiefalchemistofthenightsoffavonius. Pleasure to meet you, I'm [Name]."

"How charming." He says, putting his canvas in his bag. "I mean to ask another question, would it be alright to visit you again soon? You live under the sea, surely you know about the mysteries we have there."

[Name] looks at him like he was an alien. "Are you for real?"

"I'm pretty sure I am."

"You can just tell me you want to hang out. I know I'm fun," they say puffing their chest, proud of themselves.

"You certainly have high views of yourself," Albedo laughs, covering the bottom half of his face with his charcoal stained hand. "I'll be here tomorrow, if you would take your time to see me again."

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #kazuha x reader #kazuha #kaedehara kazuha #genshin #venti x reader #genshin venti #beidou #beidou x reader #albedo #albedo kreideprinz #albedo x reader

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tryingmybestpls · 4 years

Text

Not A Team-Part 1: The Start

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: The Reader tries to live a normal life, but her memories won’t leave her alone. Rhodey comes to visit the reader with a proposition.

Rating: T

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Talks of death, talks of mental illness, mentions of feeling alone

Four Months Ago

"Y/N, do you think you can tell me why you're here?" The female therapist asks, clicking her one before setting it down on her notepad. The ex-hero shifts on the charcoal grey couch, wanting to be anywhere but here. While she knows that the room should be sort of calming, but it has the directly opposite affect on Y/N. Her stomach is twisting in knots and she feels like her breakfast is going to come up.

"I was told I had to come here." Y/N replies, looking down at her chipping burgundy nail polish. There was hardly any color left on her nails, but what was left was stubbornly holding on, a constant reminder of what she had painted them for.

"Yes, but why were you told to come here?" The doctor-whose name was escaping Y/N at the moment-pushes, shifting in her own seat. Y/N continues to stay silent, which makes the therapist sigh, "Look Y/N, you have to be here. The only way you are able to get out of this is when I am able to determine that you aren't a danger to yourself or others. The government needs to know that you are okay. It's apart of the Acco-"

"I-I messed up. I messed up bad." Y/N cuts her off, wanting to get this all over as quickly as possible.

It's the understatement of the century. I messed up bad. That's what you say when you crash your car or get too drunk and text your ex. "Messing up bad" doesn't land you in court mandated therapy. No, Y/N hadn't "messed up bad", but she couldn't say what she had actually done. Even if she couldn't get the words out of her mouth, she was well aware if she had done. The smell of burning flesh used to be something she would wear like a perfume. Now it threatens to invade her nose, forcing her to go back to that night. Y/N tries her best to ignore it, but it's so hard to forget a smell like that.

"And when you say mess up-"

"I used my powers and people got hurt." Y/N answers, her hands getting hot. She glances down, trying to will away the heat and the fire that will surely follow. The therapist writes down a few more notes. Y/N finds herself hating the way the pen scratches at the paper, the sound almost deafening.

"Is it hard to control your powers?" The doctor asks, to which Y/N immediately shakes her head. She looks back up at the therapist, clasping her hands tightly together. Y/N is trying to look as normal and okay as possible, hoping that the therapist believes her little act.

"No. It-They're just slightly influenced by my emotions and I was just really emotional that day." Y/N replies as she feels the heat move away from her hands. She shifts on the couch, hating the attention she's getting right now, hating the way the therapist's eyes seem to notice every little movement and thought. The therapist writes that down, nodding.

"Why were you so emotional, Y/N?" The woman questions. The ex-Avenger looks back down at her hands, her wedding ring shimmers in the light that's streaming through the windows. Just seeing it makes her stomach sink, her throat tightening with that same emotion.

Now

Y/N has always hated silence.

It's the reason why she loved being in the city so much. It was constantly awake. There was never a moment of silence, no the city was always screaming and shouting. Y/N had welcomed the sound with open arms. Even when the Avengers moved out of the city and went upstate, it was still loud. Everyone kept different hours, everyone had different tasks so the base was never completely quiet. Life on the run with Steve, Sam, Wanda, and Nat wasn't quiet either. The five of them were a family, always constantly talking and bickering.

But now, she lived alone.

It was raining out today. The incessant pounding of the water droplets against the roof and the ground outside provided a much needed melody as Y/N moved around the house. Boxes still littered the rooms, precariously stacked on top of each other. She's been leaving here for a while, but some boxes she can't bring herself to unpack. For example, the large one in the middle of the living room that was labeled "WEDDING DRESS + BOUQUET" was now being used as an impromptu side table. Another one that was shoved into the second bedroom had "PICTURES FROM COMPOUND" scrawled on the side in sharpie. She doesn't think she'll ever open that one, not knowing how she handle all of those memories.

Y/N forces herself to pick up one of the boxes in the kitchen, this one labeled "WINTER CLOTHES". Usually, she would be outside tending to the garden (her therapist had told her that she needed a hobby to keep herself busy) or doing small tasks that needed to be done. However, because of the rain she was stuck inside with all the boxes that she had yet to unpack. The box is heavy, most of the weight most likely coming from her bulky winter coats.

Y/N had left the city she had loved so much, packing up her life to move to a small little house upstate. The city didn't feel like home anymore. Living in Steve's apartment without him felt wrong. It had never felt like home, didn't feel like she belonged there. They never lived at the apartment together, they didn't share any memories here. No, this place was all Steve. She was constantly surrounded by Steve-his things, his memory, his smell. It was suffocating, being surrounded by a man that had abandoned you.

Five years she was gone. Five years he had grieved and mourned over her and then-almost immediately when Y/N came back, Steve decided he didn't want to stay with her. He didn't tell her what he was going to do. Maybe he knew that if he had, she would've tried to talk him out of it. Y/N knows that she would've begged for him to stay with her. She was a. proud woman, but she wasn't proud enough to beg.

She had expected him to come back to her. Y/N thought he was going to return the stones and come back. She had thought they were going to be able to continue where they had left off, they were going to able to be together after all this time. They were finally going to be able to settle down and start that family that Steve had always hinted at. Get a house with a white picket fence and get a cute little dog. The fucking American Dream.

And then he had came back as an old man, with a gold wedding band that she hadn't given him on his finger. Steve gave Sam his shield and his legacy, no longer able to carry the mantle of Captain America. And Y/N-well Y/N's world just crumbled around her, her dreams shattering because Steve decided that he was going to move on.

She still loved him, she even still loves him now. It was impossible not to love him, even though he had left her behind. Y/N tried her best to hate him-told herself that Steve had betrayed her and that he didn't want her. She tried to tell herself that Steve didn't even love her, because if he had loved her why would he be so willing to abandon her, especially after he had just got her back? It didn't matter how much he hurt her or what he did to her, Y/N's heart would always belong to Steve whether she liked it or not.

Feeling incredibly conflicted, Y/N had forced herself to stay her by husband's side as he got sick. She didn't ask for an apology, even as Steve told her over and over that he was incredibly sorry for what he did. Y/N knew that he wasn't actually sorry because if he was actually sorry, he wouldn't have lived an entire life with Peggy. She wouldn't tell him how hurt she was or how looking at her wedding ring made her feel sick now. No, Y/N had played the role of the dutiful wife. She held his hand as his condition worsened and made sure his affairs were in order. Her feelings didn't matter as she tried to make his last days more comfortable.

And then he died.

Steve died, leaving her behind. She didn't dare talk about what had happened, what he had put her through. Y/N, even with all of the bullshit he had put her through, didn't want to tarnish his legacy. Steve Rogers was a hero and she wasn't going to be the one that ruined that for everyone. Even Sam tried to ask her if she was okay and she had just brushed it off, telling him that she was glad that Steve had picked him to carry on the legacy attached to the shield he had received.

Y/N had tried to carry on after Steve was buried, but it was hard. She was dropped into a world where all of her friends were gone, a world that had moved on without her. It was a world that she didn't belong in and she knew it. Y/N tried her best to return to normal, but she quickly learned that there was no such thing as the normal she was used to. Everything felt wrong, felt off in some minuscule way that made her unable to adapt to regular life again.

Y/N just kept bottling up her emotions, the pressure continuing to build up as the days went on. She was drowning it and there was no life preserver in sight. Everyone else went back to normal, going back to school or getting a job or finding ways to get busy. Y/N knows that she should've gotten help, that she should've tried talking to someone, but she didn't. Maybe a part of her didn't want to admit there actually was a problem, that Steve hadn't been the perfect husband and she felt abandoned by the man she married.

And that had led to her completely losing it.

Y/N would later be told that it was a nervous breakdown. A nervous breakdown. She felt-and still feels-like that name wasn’t what she experienced. It was so much more than just a nervous breakdown.

It had led to innocent people getting hurt, people that hadn't cause her pain, people that were most likely suffering just as much as she was. Her emotions were just too high and her powers-her powers decided to act on her impulses and her feelings. She had just been so God damn angry at Steve-

Y/N has to drop the box she was holding, her hands growing hot. She mutters curse words as she hears what sounds like glass shattering inside the box as she forces herself to calm down. She does the breathing exercise that the therapist had told her to do, attempting to rein in her emotions. Her eyes shut, breathing in through her nose, and out through her mouth. Y/N tries to pull the heat back inside of her, but it just won't go back in.

Her heart is beating fast in her chest as she quickly moves back into the living room, her feet carrying her to the front door. Her bright red hand grabs ahold of the doorknob, throwing the door open.

The rain is much louder now, making it almost hard to see with how much is coming down. It hits the ground violently, a cold wind trying its best to cool Y/N off, to no avail.

She quickly walked down the steps of the porch as the heat crawled up her arms, her temperature rising. Y/N knows she won't have the time to take off her clothes and she also knows that she's gone past the point of attempting to rein her powers in. Her hands catch first, bright yellow and orange flames quickly covering her skin, coating them until no skin remained.

The flame crawls over her body, burning away her clothes before the flames take over her entire body. The rain turns into steam as soon as it hits her fire covered body, a cloud surrounding her. Y/N feels more relaxed as the flame licks at her skin, covering her from head to toe. It's easier to calm down after she does this, getting some of those stronger feelings released in order to return back to normal.

Hours later while she is in the middle of cooking, someone knocks on her door. Y/N sighs softly, putting her slotted spoon back down on the counter, quickly wiping her hands on a dishcloth. She makes her way to the front door, not bothering to look through the peephole before she opens the door.

Rhodey stands before her, dressed in far more causal clothing that he usually is in. Y/N's eyes are immediately drawn to the thick manila folder in clutched tightly in his hands. He gives her a small smile. Y/N knows that he isn't just here to visit. No one ever comes to visit.

"Hey." Rhodey says gently, almost as if he's testing the waters. They haven't seen each other in a few months, not since the events that had led her to moving all the way out of here, not since she got out of the psych ward she had voluntarily gone to after her accident. Voluntarily is the wrong word here. The US Government had all but strong armed her into going.

"Hi. Uh-Here, come in. It's cold out." Y/N responds, opening the door a little wider. Rhodey's smile grows as he steps inside. He stops for a moment, looking around at her home. It's small, almost more of a cottage than an actual home. He takes note of the lack of any personal items, no pictures out on display, no tchotchkes. Boxes still litter the living room even though she's lived here for a few months.

"It looks good. Real cozy." Rhodey comments as Y/N shuts the door. She nods, giving him a polite smile as she moves past him to go back into the kitchen.

"Why'd you come by? I know it isn't for dinner." Y/N cuts straight to the point. She doesn't even bother looking at him as she checks to see if her pasta is ready. Rhodey's smile falters for a moment while she strains the pasta. He clears his throat, quickly regaining his composure.

"I-Well I stopped by because I wanted to talk to you about something." Rhodey walks into her kitchen, leaning against the counter as she pours the pasta back into the now empty pot. Y/N holds out her hand for the folder, which he immediately hands over. She flicks through it, seeing the plans for an exhibit honoring her husband. Rhodey shifts slightly as he sees her eyebrows knit together. As she goes through the pictures, she can see that it wasn't in the preplanning phase. They had their exhibit ready, all done up with a fresh paint job.

She's seen the exhibit before. Y/N had teased Steve constantly over it, thinking it was the funniest thing that he had a whole exhibit dedicated to him, a man who couldn't even use a cell phone. Steve told her once that he didn't mind the teasing, told her that it was one of his favorite things about her.

But that was then and this is now.

"The Smithsonian wants to expand their exhibit on Steve. I don't exactly see why this has anything to do with me." Y/N's eyes catch on a picture of her and Steve at their wedding, big stupid smiles stretched across their faces. The page notes possibly names for this part of the exhibit, all of them making that emotion crawl up into her throat.

"They want you to speak at the opening. You and Sam." Rhodey answers, watching as her face drops. Y/N closes the folder, still looking down at it. The papers suddenly feels like they're a million pounds, weighed down so many memories. For a second, Rhodey gets his hopes up, thinking that she is actually considering it.

"Get someone else to do it." Y/N tells him, handing the folder back over to the man. Her voice is a lot colder than it was before and her friend could practically see Y/N building her walls back up. Rhodey sighs, holding it for a moment before setting it down on the counter.

"They want people who knew him, Y/N."

"Then get someone else because I sure as hell didn't." She snaps, the fire on the stove growing. Y/N quickly shuts off the burners, shaking her head, "Ask Barnes, ask literally anyone else."

Rhodey opens his mouth before shutting it. He didn't know how to respond. He knew that his friend was upset, but as soon as Steve did what he did, she had shut herself off. Rhodey had tried and tried to get through to her and after what she had did...Rhodey knew she was going through a lot and that Y/N wouldn't tell him or anyone else how she was feeling. She just wasn't that type of person, never has been.

Y/N swallows the lump in her throat that threaten to swell up, serving Rhodey a plate full of food without him asking if he wants one. She ignores all the memories that flash in her mind, trying to keep it together. She hands the plate to Rhodey without saying a single word before serving herself . Y/N grabs them both drinks and napkins, moving around the kitchen in complete silence. They both sit down at her little table, the only sounds being the two of them breathing and their forks hitting their plates.

"How are you doing?" Rhodey breaks the silence, looking across at her. Y/N pushes her food around her plate, shrugging her shoulders.

"Doing better. I go to therapy once a week like I'm supposed to. It's-It's a lot easier to breathe out here." She replies, setting her fork down. Rhodey gives her a small smile.

"I'm glad you're doing better. I'm sorry I haven't been checking in on you. I know you wanted space and some time." He says softly, to which Y/N shakes her head, taking a sip of her drink. She knew that Rhodey felt guilty over her situation, but the man has enough on his plate. He doesn't need to adding 'taking care of Y/N' to his long list of tasks.

"You've been busy. There's a lot of rebuilding that needs to be done and you shouldn't have to be checking in on me." She looks up at him attempting to give him some peace of mind, "I'm doing better, I promise."

It wasn't the biggest lie she's ever told. She was doing better, but she still wasn't herself. Although, Y/N didn't know if she could ever return to being herself pre-Blip. Before all of this shit, she had Steve to lean on. Now...well now she didn't have anyone, and she didn't want to burden any of her friends with her issues. They had their own shit they were going through. They didn't need to deal with hers.

Later on, long after dinner had finished and the rain decided that it was done working for the day, Rhodey stood up from his spot on the couch. Y/N smiled warmly at him, walking with him to the front door. When they step outside onto the porch, the night air is cool and calm, the lovely smell of rain surrounding them.

"Y/N, I just wanted to say that I didn't want to ask you. I know-I know you're still healing. They told me I had to ask, but I didn't want to. I just want you to know that." Rhodey suddenly announces, turning towards her. Both of them were barely illuminated by the porch lights and the light spilling out from her front door. Y/N nodded, that lump in her throat returning.

"I know. I know, Rhodey." She replies, her voice cracking slightly. Y/N stands there for a moment, both of them looking at each other before she decides to throw her arms round him. Her friend is a little surprised by the action, but hugs her back happily. Y/N shuts her eyes for moment, resting her chin on his shoulder. He rubs her back soothingly, wondering if this is the first hug she's had since Steve's funeral. They pull part, once again looking at each other.

"You take care of yourself okay? I'm going to try to come and visit more, but I need to take care of yourself." Rhodey tells her, giving her a kind smile, "And don't be afraid to text, okay? You can tell me about anything, it doesn't even have to be important."

"I'll be sure to text you all about the growth of my sunflowers and whether or not I am capable of fixing a sink." She teases, which makes the man laugh.

"That's all I ask. It was nice seeing you Y/N." Rhodey tells her, making his way down the steps of his porch. Y/N leans against one of the posts, wrapping her arms around herself.

"It was nice seeing you too." Y/N responds as she watches him walk over to his car. He gives her a small wave before climbing inside. She stays on the porch until he drives away, not moving until she can no longer see his tail lights.

Y/N relaxes her shoulders, sighing softly as she turns on her heel and walks back inside. The ex-hero shuts and locks her door. She walks back into the kitchen, gathering the discarded and used plates. As she is putting them in the sink, her eyes land on the manila folder resting on the counter.

Y/N knows that Rhodey most likely deliberately left it behind. She reaches out and picks it up again, a picture slipping out and falling into the floor. Y/N bends over to grab it, holding it gently between her thumb and forefinger. She flips it over, being greeted with the sight of her husband smiling back at her. Y/N knows the picture well-it's one she took.

She finds herself smiling back at him, her finger tracing over the image. She took it after a mission. Steve's hair is a mess from his helmet, his face dirty and he has a split lip. The shield is propped up in the seat beside him and he's just smiling at her. He looks incredibly tired, but he's still smiling at her. This is the Steve she fell in love with, the Steve that had promised to give the world. The one she had seen herself raising a family with.

Y/N leans against the counter, resting the photograph beside the open folder. She flicks through it again, her eyes studying the exhibit dedicated to her and her relationship with Steve Rogers. 'Two Heroes United' was the name they ended up on. It makes tears brim in her eyes as she looks over all of the pictures that make up this part of the exhibit. While normally she didn't like sharing her personal relationships with the world, this felt okay somehow, it felt almost cathartic.

She shuts the folder, taking another glance at it. Her finger traces the embossed Smithsonian logo on the cover of it. If she did it, she wouldn't be doing it alone. If Sam could do it, it couldn't be that bad.

Right?

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #chris evans x reader #bucky barnes x reader #sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #tfatws

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tenseoyong · 3 years

Note

what do think of taeyong trying out anal?

where’s that gif that’s like “well mark me down as scared and horny” because that explains taeyong’s relationship with anal in a nutshell. he’s thrilled by the concept, but terrified about the execution. ever the worrywart, taeyong tends to focus so hard on how it could go wrong and end up hurting you, god forbid, so he’s crazy hesitant to say the least.

taeyong is nothing if not extremely cautious when you finally talk him down, assuring him he’s not going to break you; taeyong easily keeps his bubbling excitement in check, staying hyper focused on making sure you’re prepped properly and ready to take him. that’s where taeyong’s pretty fingers come in handy; he’d lay his lover out on his bed, letting you settle on your tummy as he gives you a mini massage to further ‘relax’ you, even when you giggle and try to brush him off, telling him you’re fine but he ignores you, and continues his mini mission, “can’t have you all tense, love, it’ll make it worse.” “but im not tense, you worrywart, im fine.” “shush, let me focus.”

he’s absolutely the kind of lover that buys the outrageously pretty smelling and flavored lube. making up some excuse that, if he’s going to buy it, why not buy the one that smells like sweet strawberries? taeyong is so slow while he smears a decent glob of lube over your entrance, so focused as he coats his own fingers the same way. he’ll tease you for a bit, testing the waters so to speak, just brushing a finger over the untouched area, applying some pressure but never breaching, noting how you fidget underneath him, small whimpers of desperation and impatience leaving you as you try to push back onto his finger—but he doesn’t allow you to, and withdrawals his touch every time you move too close. his pinky is the smallest, taeyong figures when he’s decided he’s teased you enough and it’s time to continue on; as gently as he could possibly manage, sinks the delicate digit into you, the warmth and tightness both familiar and at the same time completely foreign to him—but the soft moan you give, that’s something he recognizes easily. taking that as a good sign, taeyong slowly moves the slender finger inside you; occasionally withdrawing completely only to bury his finger up to his knuckle again, teasing your inner walls with a slight curl of his pinky.

in an attempt to distract you, taeyong’s free hand busies itself with toying with your pussy. his nimble fingers knew how to play you like a fine tuned instrument, rubbing steady circles around your swollen clit while taeyong changed his approach, and instead carefully worked his pointer and middle finger into your ass—the slight stretch having an immediate affect on you, a surprised whimper and a twitch of your hips, taeyong knew it wasn’t all that comfortable on your end and swore to himself, “you’re so tight I—fucking hell—I don’t know how you’re going to take my cock if you can barely take two fingers.” he worries for a moment, but lust has already taken over his judgement, “just gonna have to stretch you out, right baby? gonna take good care of you, get you nice and ready for me, can’t have my baby getting broken now can we, no~”

to say it’ll take a while is an understatement; taeyong’s slow and thorough, taking him close to an hour to open you up enough to take three of his pretty fingers; an unnecessary amount of lube and a few orgasms from taeyong’s talented fingers later and he’s gotten your muscles relaxed enough to just barely gape when he removes his fingers. a sight that has taeyong growling uncharacteristically animalistic, hastily yanking his bottoms and boxers down, uncaring that he’s just smearing lube all over the fabric and frantically searching for the bottle again to slick up his own aching cock, groaning deeply at the minimal relief while he took in your bare form, “i think that’ll be the best we can do, baby. d’you think you can take me now? are you ready for me?” all his prep and teasing for the last hour had completely ruined you until you were little more than a puddle on his sheets, skin slick from sweat and sticky from taeyong’s lube covered wandering hands; arching back as much as your tired body would allow, you all but begged for taeyong to claim you.

all initial hesitation was thrown out the window, taeyong was too close to exploding from built up desire to be as scared as he much as he was when he started. still, he maintained a leveled head, carefully feeding the tip of his aching cock into your waiting hole. he didn’t know who gasped louder—you, feeling the the final act, taeyong’s thick cock stretching you out for the first time; the foreign intrusion both welcomed and rejected or him, the vice grip your ass had on his cock, unbelievably warm and tight, a completely new experience for him as it was for you, taeyong wasn’t sure if he was even able to move or if he’d be stuck within you for the rest of time—either way, the room was suddenly filled with both your whimpers and moans of shock and pleasure.

taeyong knew he was a goner, and would finish pathetically fast in your tight heat; all but collapsing against your back, his sweat soaked shirt sticking to both of you as his hands blindly wormed between your spread thighs, quickly burying two fingers into your sopping pussy and returning to tormenting your clit while he delivered quick, shallow thrusts into you from above. each little gasp of pleasure, every hitch in your breath at the pinch of pain, your tired moans mixing with the soft slap! his sharp hips made as they met your plush bottom—music to the lust-drunk man’s ears as taeyong buries his face against your neck, groaning freely into your ear, nipping and sucking at any exposed flesh he can reach while desperately grinding against your backside, hips twitching as he pace falters, a new warmth filling you when taeyong’s shudders rack his whole body as he cums, flooding your insides.

he’s a mess; panting, sweating, shaking as he barely manages to hold himself up, trying to to smoosh you under his weight. taeyong’s adorably careful when he finally withdraws from you, trying to distract you from the odd feeling by smoothing his hands up your sides, massaging the warm skin but he knows it doesn’t completely work by your sharp cry and the way your fingers dig into the bedding below you. honestly, he can’t stop himself from grasping your ass in his heated hands and spreading your cheeks, watching with a strange manly pride as his cum slowly seeps from your used hole—and then he’s crashing back down into being scared, terrified he’d lost himself and ended up hurting you; the one goal he had to not do. and the fussing kicks in—he’s off the bed in a flash, all exhaustion gone from his body as he locates a rag and soaks it in warm water, retuning and gently cleaning your body of sweat, lube and fluids, muttering at himself for being so stupid, so careless until you tiredly laugh at him, smacking him on the arm with your remaining energy, “yah, stop~i’m okay!” “you-oka—you’re okay? you’re not in pain? i though—i figured—” “i’m not hurt, just sore, tae, i’m okay, truly! just—c’mere, hold me~”

#nct #taeyong #nct smut #nct reactions #nct scenario #taeyong smut #taeyong scenario

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bingoluka · 3 years

Text

Need You

Summary: After a case gone wrong, and an injury left unattended, Loki realizes that even Gods need somebody.

Notes: Includes wound depiction and good ole' angst! Also a lil' Wowki but I'm a little bitch baby.

...

When he said it hurt like hell, it hurt like hell.

Each case tended to go wrong in its own unique and terrible way. Whether one of them leaves with a torn shirt and headache, or a deep gash and a broken spirit, one thing was certain; that Mobius and Loki looked out for each other.

Though, Loki would hardly admit he had grown quite fond of the man he called his partner.

Beyond that, he would hardly admit when he really, truly needed his help. He was independent, he knew this, and sometimes asking for the help or pity of another more than once seemed too much mental strain- for both him and whoever had the bad fortune of being alongside him. He hadn't realized the severity of the injury at the time, as a large piece of metal tore away at his abdomen while swimming from an impending tsunami. His magic had already begun to heal him, fixing the initial trauma while the freezing water numbed him.

He has assumed the blood in the water hadn't been his.

Now there he was, wandering aimlessly along the TVA corridors, wishing desperately he could lay his inhibitions to rest all the while sparing his friend the worry. Though, he knew it was unlikely.

The air felt cold against his skin, each step sending a fiery blast of pain across his stomach and up to his back. He grimaced. Pathetic, he thought to himself weakly. Who are you without your power?

"Loki? Loki!"

His voice sounded distant at first, so much he grew concerned he had never heard it at all. A sharp exhale left Loki's mouth as another pang sent shockwaves through his body.

"Oh no- oh no-!"

He stumbled, his legs crossing wildly over each other and he fell into the wall next to him. He began to sink to his knees, the pain becoming overpowering as he fought to stay present. How was it getting worse?

He realized then the wound no longer felt cold. It felt hot, burning as fresh blood spilled from the wound. Loki realized then how little healing had taken place.

"Loki? Hey, hey look at me."

Mobius's voice was soft, calming as it was fearful. Loki wanted to melt into the other, hide from the agony.

"I-I'm sorry," he gasped. "I thought it had healed- I thought- I thought it wasn't this bad-"

"Shh," he whispered, keeping a steady hand on Loki's back. "Loki, can you walk?"

Loki stopped for a moment, his eyes falling to the ground in shame. His breathing was already erratic, jumbling his thoughts and rationality to the point he wasn't sure of anything. He looked up at Mobius now, his eyes scanning his for a sign.

"Come on."

Loki hadn't realized how many people were there with them. Maybe it was adrenaline, or his partial loss of vision from the wound, either way, the voices began to filter in at that moment. Agents and hunters, some workers he had never seen all gathered around them. Mobius had taken one side, while a hunter had him on the other, leading him out of the hall when his body began to go limp. He fought against it, begging himself to stay upright just long enough to prove he was capable. But he wasn't, and they knew this. His knees buckled beneath him, sending both him and the other two staggering forward with an "oh-!"

He could feel them ease him to the ground, pain shooting through him again as he made contact with the floor- causing him to cry out.

"We need to address the wounds here," Mobius said, his voice sharp and heavy. "He's deteriorating, either we let him use magic or we heal him ourselves."

"We can't just let that happen, we have to be outside of the TVA," someone said. "We need to take him somewhere else."

As they spoke, others had taken to pressing against his wound to suppress the bleeding. At first, it was agony. But after a while, he felt a warmth come over his body, a peace he had never felt as the pain melted away. He knew it wasn't supposed to happen, Mobius frantically calling his name being a sure sign, but the relief was something he couldn't deny.

"Loki! Stay with us, come on-"

Before he slipped into sleep, the last thing he saw was Mobius over him, eyes wide and brimming with tears. God, he was tired. But he regretting falling asleep all the same.

...

"If I would've known he was hurt, I wouldn't have taken my eyes off him, what more is there to understand?"

Mobius looked at Renslayer for a moment. Defiance wasn't typically in his nature, though he'll admit his actions spoke otherwise. He was more a calm deviant, not driven by a harsh nature but rather a calm and collected one. She sighed, resting her pointer and thumb on the bridge of her nose.

"I know, I know. But we can't have events like that happen, Mobius. Half our team was distracted, imagine if the variant had struck then?"

"You know I respect you, Renslayer. I really do, I admire you and you know that. But this just seems wrong, he's still a person," Mobius said, frowning. "I know in the grander scheme of things we have a lot to worry about but I saw humanity out there. A collective force of good working toward an unspoken goal."

"Which is?"

"Making sure variant or not, we're taking care of each other."

...

Loki woke on the couch that night.

Wait, couch?

He had expected to still be on the floor. Though he knew Mobius would never, it wasn't out of the picture that another agent might let him stay on the ground. After all, they weren't too fond of him. He went to stretch, the sharp pains from his stomach stopping him in his tracks as he remembered why he was there.

The room was dark, dark enough that beyond his fixed point on the couch, Loki could hardly see a thing. A voice pierced the air, causing him to jump.

"Hey, how are you feeling?"

As Loki realized who it was, he sank back into the couch.

"Fine," he mumbled. Mobius raised an eyebrow.

"Really? You didn't seem too fine back there when you were bleeding out in the halls of the TVA."

"Well, I was," Loki snapped, staring up at the ceiling. He realized how foolish he sounded, but at that point, he didn't care.

"Loki, what happened on that mission?" Mobius asked gently, ignoring the other's outburst. Loki sighed a bit, trying to shift his position.

"I didn't-" he cut himself off with a wince as he moved wrong, the pain burning at first, then turning into a dull ache. Mobius looked down at him worriedly.

"I didn't think it was that bad," he said hurriedly. "I was so cold from the water I didn't feel it. I just assumed the blood hadn't been mine."

It was grim. The idea of the blood in the water was so common for that moment, so anticipated that he had nearly bled out yet speculated it was from somebody else. It brought into focus the severity of even human apocalypses.

"But the blood," Mobius said, frowning. "I should have been able to see it on your shirt when we got back. I didn't see any."

"My magic had healed it for the most part," Loki said. "Just not enough. Once I returned it must've begun to reverse."

As Loki spoke, he noticed Mobius reaching for the hem of his shirt. He quickly blocked his hand with an offended "Hey." Mobius chuckled, shaking his head.

"I'm just trying to see it, come on."

"You don't need to," Loki glared. But of course his efforts didn't deter Mobius, who kept his steady gaze.

"Loki," he said gently. "Come on, let me see."

Loki sighed, wordlessly lifting the hem of his shirt to reveal the array of wounds, accented by the much larger wound that ran across the bottom of his abdomen. He heard Mobius's breath catch.

"Geez..." He murmured, gently brushing a finger across the uninjured skin, which even then was sore.

"Why didn't you say anything?" He asked sadly. Loki cast his eyes to the side.

"An unspoken rule amongst warriors in Asgard was to each their own. It wasn't uncommon to receive wounds in battle, it was seen as noble to keep them to yourself."

"Well, that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," Mobius said with raised eyebrows. He added a hasty, "No offense."

"No, I agree. They were all morons," he said lightheartedly.

Mobius laughed now, bowing his head as he did so. Loki smiled a bit, still somewhat troubled by the pain but not enough to mention it.

"This is your apartment, then?" He said, trying to initiate conversation so Mobius wouldn't see as he began to sit up.

"Hey, not so fast," Mobius said, placing a hand on the small of Loki's back. "Your powers may be back, but you have a ways to go."

"I'm alright, really."

"I'm beginning to think that phrase holds less ethos each time I hear it."

Loki huffed, barely managing to sit all the way up. He looked around the room as his eyes adjusted. It was a small apartment, most of his items being placed in the living area. Books, dusty empty bottles, wooden furniture accented with water stains and loose change. The carpet was plush, he noticed, like something you would see from the nineties. It was all very cozy and welcoming.

"Sorry about the mess," he said, assuming that's what Loki had been looking at. "I didn't really have time to clean."

"Mess?" Loki frowned. "Mobius, you bring me into your home and you really assume I'm going to judge the state of it?"

"Well, to be fair, I don't get a lot of visitors," he smiled. "Now you need some rest, alright?"

If Loki had just an ounce more strength, he would've shot back some snarky response. This time, however, he found himself too tired to think of one, so instead, he flashed a quick smile.

"I'll be here if you need me."

If you need me.

Loki pondered on the words for a while. Maybe it was the way he said it, or the weariness finally catching up with him. Before he never would have admitted he need someone, much less someone with no relation to him. But in that darkened room he gathered he had a change of heart. As he felt himself slowly fading into the warm embrace of sleep, he felt a hand run across his head, gently brushing his unkempt hair back in a stroking motion. He wanted to open his eyes, to see Mobius, but he stayed still just long enough to hear the words,

"Glad you're alright, Lokes."

Before contently falling asleep.

#self indulgent fic #loki #loki series #loki show #angst #loki angst #wowki #lokius #wowki fluff #wowki angst #i wrote this on my phone #in my notes app #hurt comfort #whump

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vvideonasties · 4 years

Text

clear-cut

"Good morning," Jon says.

"Um," Martin replies.

Jon then realises that him holding a pair of scissors so close to his eyes not long after ranting about gouging them out would be rather concerning at first glance.

word count: 2k

pairing: jonmartin

warnings: discussion of canon related trauma, thoughts about body autonomy

While rifling through the kitchen drawers, Jon is unsurprised by the plethora of blades Daisy owns. There’s every kind of knife you could fathom and, thankfully, a few pairs of scissors. Grabbing what appears to be the sharpest pair (though they all look pretty damn sharp), he heads to the bathroom. He clutches the white of the porcelain sink and stares into the mirror impassively.

He used to actually quite like his long hair. He’d play with it while he was working, twirling the thick locks around his fingers and untangling knots absentmindedly. When he’d get frustrated he’d pull it out of its tie and tug at it. It was a strange way to ground himself.

Now, though. It’s been used too much for other people’s gain, has been in too many people’s hands for it to truly belong to him. The gravity it provided began to dissipate when Daisy attacked him - she’d grabbed a chunk of it and used it to yank back his head to expose the vulnerable expanse of his neck. As he’d stood there under the mercy of her blade, shaking and pleading, the stinging in his scalp lingered the entire time. It only got worse from there - the awful attempt at tenderness displayed by the Stranger as Nikola brushed aside a few strands to gain access to more flesh, to paste moisturiser onto it with her stiff fingers. The dirt he couldn’t quite scrub out of it after he left the Buried, even when he sat in the tub for hours on end. Even when the water began to run clear, he could still feel the clumps weighing him down, making his head loll to the side with it.

After all that, it wasn’t much to him. He’d wash it, dry it, tie it up. Try not to think of it.

Jon stares down at the gleaming scissors in the sink determinedly. Cutting it off won’t solve much, if anything at all, but it would make him feel a little more comfortable. It’s one of the only things he can control about himself at the moment. If he doesn’t like the way it looks, then fine. It’ll grow back.

His hand flexes and clenches into a fist. Tighten, relax, tighten, relax.

He reaches for the scissors and holds a piece of hair in front of his face, the blades open, hungry, ready to receive.

Then there comes a short, polite cough. He turns to see Martin standing just outside the bathroom, eyes a little wider than normal.

"Good morning," Jon says.

"Um," Martin replies.

Jon then realises that him holding a pair of scissors so close to his eyes not long after ranting about gouging them out would be rather concerning at first glance.

“I’m cutting my hair,” he clarifies, and Martin seems to relax at that.

“Okay.” A pause. “Why?”

He puts down the scissors and shrugs, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

“Just felt like it,” he says, which is kind of true. “Not particularly attached to it anymore.”

Martin hums, taking him at his word. He walks over on socked feet, close enough that Jon can feel the heat radiating from him. There’s a brief moment where his hands pass over the scissors.

“I could help?”

Jon turns to face him completely, brow furrowed. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, it’s just that I have experience? Kind of? I cut my own, and I used to cut my mum’s as well...” Martin’s mouth twists downwards at that, and Jon just frowns harder. “I won’t give you my mum’s style, I promise!” He jokes weakly. It falls flat, and the whole atmosphere feels stilted.

“Okay. Why not.”

“...Are you sure? I don’t want to interrupt your whole-”

“It’s fine. I could use some help reaching the back anyway.” As much as he just wants to lop all of it off, he doesn’t want it to look messy.

Martin seems to brighten, probably at the relief of having something to focus on, and he walks off to grab a chair from the small dining table as Jon hovers awkwardly. He positions it in the living room, close to the small TV they’ve been using sporadically. They’ve been steadily working their way through the small cabinet full of DVDs underneath it. However, Jon isn’t exactly sure how long they’re going to be staying, so they might have to...ration them. The week they’ve been here hasn’t exactly been the most vibrant when it comes to entertainment. Maybe one day they’ll relent and open up the dusty box of Monopoly. That could very well be a major test of their relationship, though.

At least, Jon thinks this is a relationship. They haven’t talked about it all that much. All that mattered in the beginning was escaping the Lonely, leaving London, then getting settled here. They’re fumbling around blindly in the dark, and all Jon knows is he wants to hold onto Martin as tightly as possible.

That little train of thought is interrupted by the small clink of Martin taking the scissors off of the sink and grabbing a towel from the rack. He gestures to the chair, inviting Jon to sit, and when he does so he feels the towel being gently wrapped around his shoulders.

There’s the brief sensation of Jon’s hair being pulled at, only slightly, and he sucks in a sharp breath.

“Okay?” Martin whispers. He understands without knowing, somehow, and Jon is glad that he can’t see the way his face is taut with apprehension, tinged with pain.

“Okay,” he whispers back, trying to emulate Martin’s tone.

“Can I use your tie?” His voice is still soft, and Jon should feel patronised, but he mostly feels soothed. “Just so it’s easier to cut through.”

Jon wordlessly removes the tie from his wrist and hands it over. He tries to hide the little shiver that passes over him when their fingers brush. Martin begins to hum a tune as he gathers the hair up into one handful (not like they did, he would never, it’s Martin, always so good to him), then creates a loose ponytail that falls to his shoulders.

“Fine so far?” Jon nods tentatively. “Alright then.”

There’s the distinct sound of the blades opening, and in one fluid motion Jon feels the weight he’d been carrying leave him.

“There.” Martin comes into view, holding the thick, dark ponytail aloft, smiling crookedly.

“Oh,” he croaks. “That’s...a lot.” His hand comes up to brush his the side of his head, then travels down and grasps at thin air where hair was a second ago. The cut seems to stop at his jaw, the small strands remaining ghosting over his skin.

“It is. Can I keep going?”

Jon, hand still close to his head, makes a noise of assent. Martin takes a second to throw away what’s been cut then returns. He sinks his hands into Jon's scalp, massaging the tension out of it, and Jon makes an unbidden noise of satisfaction that causes his motions to still.

"God, sorry, did I hurt-"

"No! No, it's okay. It felt nice." It felt really nice.

Martin clicks his tongue and continues for a while longer, fingers digging into Jon’s scalp over and over in a wonderful, rhythmic motion until Jon is practically boneless and falling asleep in the chair. He wonders if there’s a not-weird way to ask for this again outside of a hair cutting context.

“So how short are we going here? You kind of have a bob right now,” Martin laughs.

Jon hadn’t really thought about that. He just wanted it off, away, binned and out of his face. He shrugs. “I don’t know, short? Whatever you think will suit me.”

“Any hairstyle would suit you,” Martin points out, like it’s nothing. Jon smiles. “But I’ll do my best.”

A few moments of Martin muttering to himself and circling around the chair is followed by the coolness of the dual blades against the curve of Jon’s ear, the shhk of them pressing together giving him goosebumps. He clearly has done this many times before, given the confident way he navigates the scissors. Jon certainly couldn’t have done this alone, at least not without making a fool out of himself. Martin brushes some hair away from the nape of his neck. His hands are very warm.

“Y’know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with short hair.”

Jon turns to him, puzzled. “Really?”

The thing with Jon is, when he cares about someone a lot, he tends to insert them in all of his memories, assuming that they’ve always been around (he also has the memory of a goldfish, but he’s sure that’s a whole other thing). Martin has become such an integral part of his life, standing neatly by his side like it’s nothing. Like he was meant to be there and always has.

“It has been quite a few years now, I suppose. Last I remember it was this short I was still in research.” When he goes to touch his head again he notes that he can feel for his ears without having to move a mountain of hair aside.

“Better late than never, I guess! I’m gonna move to the front now.”

Martin has to position himself at an awkward angle to use the scissors properly, his back practically curved into a C shape. His gaze is focused and intense, his lower lip caught between his teeth. Hair falls on Jon’s face as he snips, making him wrinkle his nose and grimace.

“Sorry. You can wash it off soon.”

Jon nods minutely. Then he sneezes. Martin just smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners, then continues.

He remembers why he rarely went to get a professional haircut now. That strange intimacy that comes with someone being so close to you - a stranger - it always disturbed him. The idle chatter that made him grit his teeth, how they’d act like they knew him. Then he didn’t have the time or energy to cut it himself after...everything.

Now he’s looking at Martin, though. It’s odd, yes. Intimate? Definitely. He doesn’t know whether to close his eyes or keep them open. But he’s always found it very hard to turn his gaze away from Martin regardless.

His eyes are a lovely shade of deep blue, and he has far too many scars alongside the smattering of freckles on his face. He looks tired. Very much so. There’s crows feet at the corners of his eyes and lines on his forehead. He notes absently that he actually has a thick beard, too. Of course he noticed it beforehand - he’s felt it scratching the back of his neck when he wakes in the morning with Martin’s arms around him - but it’s worth pointing out. It makes him look much older, especially since the grey in it seems to be overtaking the red.

Martin stands up straight and runs his hands through Jon’s hair a few times before standing back, head tilted to the side.

“I think we’re done. It’s not amazing, but.”

Jon is already shrugging off the towel and heading to the bathroom mirror, feeling weirdly nervous.

He certainly looks different. Unfortunately, though he searched high and low for them, Daisy doesn’t own any clippers. Martin did the best he could with what he had - he’s kept it a bit longer towards the front, some strands grazing his forehead, but the rest is cropped closely to his scalp. Jon tentatively touches it and leans forward. He tries to grasp a chunk of it, see if it’s long enough to pull. He fails.

“It’s perfect.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Jon says firmly. “It’s just what I needed.” He walks back over to Martin and wraps his arms around him instinctively, sighing with contentment when he responds in kind.

“Thank you,” he mumbles into Martin’s t-shirt.

“Of course.” Martin is stroking the back of his neck gently. “You look very handsome.”

Jon’s face burns at the compliment, and he chooses to hide it further rather than reply. They stand there for a while, hair scattered around the floor like autumn leaves, and it feels like a new beginning.

#lil writes #jonmartin #ive been thinking a lot about hair and people's relationship to their hair recently. like. why it means so much to some of us #and it morphed into this #hair is one of the few things we can control since its physical and mostly our own #idk i just feel like its a good way for jon to reclaim some part of himself. it certainly feels that way for me so maybe i am Projecting #anyways! take it!#i was actually gonna write a sequel about martin and his hair but focusing on the hc i have that he grows a beard in s4 so he doesnt have-#to see his own face as much. but lets see how this one is received first!#tumblr is such a bad place to post fic because feedback is so sparse. god.#ILL SHUT UP NOW BYE #oh wait i need to tag #the magnus archives

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potatoes-is-are-food · 4 years

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Demon Shit [part 5]

~4,000 words

Warnings: Vomit (not in a kink setting and not detailed), blood

When you opened your eyes the first thing you saw were red irises staring back as Tomura creepily stared at you. His hand trailed up through the blankets, pulling them down enough to see your neck. He swept his thumb over a slightly sore spot on your shoulder, making you reach up yourself to feel a second bite wound like Dabi’s. You hadn’t even noticed him do it.

“How do you feel?” he whispered, taking your hand in his and holding it with surprising care.

“Sore,” you wheezed, your attempt at a whisper coming out raspier than Tomura’s voice. He grinned and kissed your knuckles, sitting up and stretching as a warm hand trailed up your thigh from behind, settling on your hip.

Dabi groaned, giving your flesh a squeeze as he came closer, pressing his chest against your back. It hurt to move, but you managed to turn yourself around to face him, smiling at his calm face and messy hair. You gently ran your fingers along the staples embedded in his cheeks, softly pressing your lips to the corner of his.

Tomura leaned over you, bringing his face close to Dabi’s and flashing you a shit-eating grin before licking a big strip up his cheek. He shot up, eyes bright with anger and all traces of serenity instantly removed from his expression as he gripped Tomura by his long wild hair, yanking him off you and trying to pin him. Your face heated slightly when you noticed they were both still naked.

“I thought you liked being licked,” he cackled, fighting back as the two playfully wrestled beside you on the expansive bed. Not the one you’d been defiled in, you realized as you noted the cleanliness of the white bedding and obvious lack of blood. You scooted up, wincing a little and watching them roll around, giggling softly at their antics.

Tomura pinned him, letting his long tongue roll out of his mouth, dangling dangerously close to his skin as their semi-hard cocks brushed against one another. He narrowed his cyan eyes, snapping his face forward just enough to take it in his mouth, biting and pulling him closer. Tomura groaned, leaning in to kiss him and grinding slightly until Dabi pushed him off, both of them slightly flushed and panting, but grinning. You felt your heart thump heavily as their eyes came to rest on yours.

“If you can stop acting like a feral rat long enough you can join us in the bath,” Dabi side eyed the other demon, slinking up to you and pressing a light kiss to your forehead. He slid the blankets down, gathering you in his arms with a slight grimace as he noted just how rough they’d been and how littered your body was with their marks. You wrapped your arms around his neck and nestled your face against his skin.

His staples scratched at several places on your sore skin, but you didn’t mind, placing several light kisses to Dabi’s neck as he carried you to the bathroom. He set you on the edge of the tub, turning several dials and leaning back to tend to you while it filled. Tomura entered, leaning against the sink and watching Dabi look over your injuries. He gently swiped his thumb along your cheek before kissing the scratch there.

“Sorry, little sacrifice,” he said, ruffling your messy hair, “I shouldn’t have let crusty over there have so much input on our activities.” Tomura glared at him, muttering something under his breath about how he apparently liked eating crusty ass, then. You snorted, letting Dabi move you around and look over every inch of you. He stood on his knees in front of you, sliding a hand up between your legs.

You pouted, blood rushing to your cheeks as he gently forced your legs apart. He skimmed his lips from your knee up your thigh, lightly pressing kisses to your bruised skin. His lips met your pussy, softly dragging his tongue against your skin as you whimpered, still sore from Tomura’s thrashing. He sighed against you, his breath hot as forked tongue squeezed and toyed with your clit.

Tomura stepped forward and gripped your hair, pulling your head back so he could attack your neck with kisses. His tongue flicked against the mark Dabi had given you, nipping at the scar and making your skin blotchy with even more hickeys. You winced when he nipped at his fresh mark, whimpering at the different sensations. Your fingers tangled in black hair on one hand and pale blue in the other as you writhed, cumming on Dabi’s tongue. You whined, humping his face a bit before relaxing, letting Tomura hold you up.

Dabi gripped your face, kissing you with a groan as you eagerly tasted yourself on him. Tomura, still supporting you, lavished kisses along your breast surprisingly gently, humming when you held him to you and smiling against your skin. Dabi broke the kiss and pulled the other demon off you, turning you to help ease down into the bath. He settled into the large tub behind you, pulling your back to his chest and beckoning his friend to join.

Tomura slid in in front of you, pressing a brief kiss to your cheek. He sat facing you, clearly uncertain about what to do. You sat with your knees against your chest, still feeling shy having two men, er, demons see you naked despite them both having fucked you and not a minute ago bringing you to orgasm. Moving a little closer he brought up his legs and situated yours over them so they rested with your feet on either side of his torso but allowing you to keep your knees together for the time being.

Dabi gently tended to your hair and washing your back while Tomura scrubbed down the rest of your skin, making you cum on his fingers when he got distracted cleaning you. Your mind felt fuzzy and your body felt warm, making you pliant and relaxed despite the pains littering your skin and insides. You gazed, eyes half-lidded, at Tomura and then up at Dabi.

When they finished cleaning themselves, after Tomura spent what felt like a solid hour kissing you and muttering random, creepy sentiments about how soft you were, you got out. Tomura sat on the counter in the bathroom while Dabi fixed your hair, gently tending to it with surprising skill and care. Their hair fluffed back to normal almost as soon as they’d gotten out of the water and you pursed your lips, wishing yours could do that. When he was done he guided you back into the room you’d slept in, letting you rustle through several bags of clothes he’d gotten you.

You pulled out several frilly, delicate dresses, a few skirts and tops, lots of above the knee socks of varied lengths, and mountains upon mountains of lacy, frilly, bow-covered lingerie. You didn’t doubt he got some kind of sexual thrill out of dressing you up like a cupcake as your eyes scanned the white fabrics. You reached for the last bag and Dabi tutted, taking it and letting Tomura snatch it. He shuffled through it for a minute before putting it aside, seemingly disappointed.

“Don’t worry about that one, sweetness,” Dabi gave your head a pat, “I’ll have you try stuff on later. For now just pick something so we can head out,” Tomura crouched beside you, letting his towel fall off as he sifted through your clothes. You awkwardly looked away, catching Dabi dropping his too as he started going through a closet. You let your eyes trail up his discolored legs, the places where it was joined to the normal parts and the staples keeping it there. The curve of his muscles, hips, thighs, and ass making blood rush to your face.

He turned, flashing you a wink before returning to his task, searching through various articles of clothing. You quickly turned your flustered face back to Tomura, who was holding a pair of thigh-highs and some kind of bralette. He handed them off to you, plopping a very lacy pair of panties on top and taking an extra pair with him as he walked off, joining Dabi in searching for something to wear. You hastily picked out one of the more simple dresses, setting everything on the edge of the bed and putting what was sprawled out on the floor back into bags.

You readjusted your towel, tightening it before climbing onto the bed and sitting, watching the demons freely now that they at least had pants on. Tomura got done first, putting the same clothes he’d had on yesterday and sitting beside you, pulling your legs across his lap.

“She’s like a soft little dolly,” he grinned, wrapping his arms around your waist and sniffing your hair. You ran your hands through his, playing with it for a bit before he handed you a small elastic, sitting back up so you could do whatever you wanted. You smiled, standing up on your knees and gathering the top half of his hair into a little bun and securing it. He grinned at you, pulling you down by your towel into a kiss, winding his tongue deep into your mouth.

“She’s very pretty,” Dabi pulled you gently away from his face and pressed his lips to yours, sweeping up some of Tomura’s spit from the corner of your mouth. You softly thanked him, letting him set you on your feet and shuddering at the cold wood of the floor.

“Where are we going?” You asked softly, face heating and arms covering your chest as he tugged your towel off, letting it drop to the floor and kicking it away. He kissed your head and slid the bralette up your arms and secured it around your back.

“We have to get things ready for the next ritual and I need to find another contract that I can get done in under a week or so,” he had you step into the panties Tomura had picked out, sliding them up your legs and placing a feather-light kiss to your pussy lips before he adjusted them, “Tomura can stay with you while I’m gone if it’s a stay in place kinda thing.”

You used his shoulders to balance as he slid your socks up your legs, gazed at him as he kissed along your chest, and raised your arms for him to put the dress on you. This one had intricate buttons going down the back, taking a minute for him to do them all up. You played with your words in your head for a moment, debating whether or not to say them. When he turned you back around to face him and smoothed your clothes out neatly you let them slip.

“I’ll miss you, Dabi,” you said softly, wrapping your arms around him. He squeezed you back, leaning down to overtake your small form. When he pulled you away he cradled your face, thumb stroking along your cheek.

“I’ll miss you too, little sacrifice,” he kissed you softly, the affection making your knees weak. When he pulled away he flicked your forehead teasingly, making you pout slightly, “You’re lucky you’re cute. I said if I can’t come back during. Most of the time we can come and go,” he smirked, ruffling your hair.

You stepped into the shoes he held out, glancing over to see Tomura scrolling through his phone while you were dressed. He hopped up, shoving the device into his pocket and burying his face in your shoulder while Dabi tied your shoes. He stayed like that, long strands of white hair tickling your skin where it was exposed while Dabi stuck a short cloak around your shoulders, struggling to get it under his face.

“You need to learn how to act somewhat normal if you’re gonna take y/n out at all,” he scowled, fixing it when he finally moved. Tomura scoffed, wrapping his hands loosely around your neck and grinning widely when he squeezed briefly and you let out a startled, choked gasp. Dabi glared at him.

“What?”

When you left Dabi carried you through the snow outside, setting you down once you got through the entry back into the normal world, inside a different shop from before. You were a little disappointed you hadn’t gotten to look around the pocket you’d apparently be calling home for a long time, but Tomura assured you he wanted to do that with you. He pinched your ass when he said it, though, which made you doubt he actually just wanted to explore the dimension.

Dabi bought you a snack, holding your hand while you munched and the three of you walked through an entirely different place than when you’d gone into the pocket. You didn’t question it, opting to take in the sights while they lead you around, a dull ache pulsing through your lower body. You couldn’t read any of the signs or understand what any passersby said. Tomura stared at you while you ate and you offered him a bite again, giggling when he accepted only to immediately spit it out onto the pavement.

“Why do you always do that? You know human food almost always has salt in it,” Dabi leisurely placed an arm over your shoulders, taking your trash from you and chucking it as you passed a trash bin. Tomura scowled, shoving his hands in his coat pockets. You held onto his arm and his expression softened.

“I can’t tell what’s salty or not from looking at it,” he spit again, shuddering slightly. You apologized softly and he nudged you with his elbow, “Not your fault, dolly.”

The discomfort in your pelvis got worse as they dragged you along, the beating your holes had taken making you sore beyond belief. You felt a little bad about how often you ended up being carried, trying to hurry so they wouldn’t feel obligated despite the fact it was their fault you were worn out. It didn’t help they were so much taller than you, their strides were long as well as fast meanwhile your small frame struggled to match up. You caved after just a few minutes, tugging Dabi’s hand as you started to pant from the effort.

“Oh shit,” he immediately stopped, scooping you up bridal-style and letting your head flop against his shoulder, “I should’ve been carrying you this whole time,” he lamented, gently holding you against his warm chest. You wrapped your arms around his neck, nuzzling your face into his marred skin and closing your eyes.

“I forget, are all humans this fragile or is it just this one?” Tomura teased, patting your head, “Big mean Dabi fucked your ass too hard, hm?” he snickered. You pressed your face further into the curve of his neck, giving him a little embarrassed nip that earned you a soft groan.

“Shut up, Tomura,” Dabi cooed mockingly, running his fingers up and down your back, “she’s shy,” Your face burned and you squeezed him tighter, feeling his body vibrate slightly when he chuckled.

“Shy?” Tomura snorted, “She gave me her panties less than two minutes after meeting me. Speaking of,” he reached for the hem of your dress, hissing when Dabi slapped his hand away, “What? Lemme have ‘em,” he grumbled.

“She hasn’t had them on an hour yet; just leave it, creep,” he set you down, gently forcing you off him when you didn’t let go. Your pouty face and clinging making him smile and pinch your cheek.

He lead you into a small shop, holding your hand as Tomura trailed behind, scratching absently at his neck. The three of you approached the counter, probably looking more than a little strange together. They spoke in a language you couldn’t begin to decipher, going back and forth for several minutes before Dabi exchanged a pouch of something for a jar filled with feathers. He handed it off to Tomura, who inspected it closely before shoving it in his jacket. They continued the conversation while you shuffled awkwardly, opting to stare at the floor to minimize the chance someone would address you, although it didn’t seem likely anyway.

When he pulled you back outside it was Tomura who scooped you up, grinning widely at you and displaying his sharp teeth. You gave him a small smile back and pecked the corner of his lips, hugging around his neck as he carried you swiftly along.

“If we can grab more of those candles and figure out where the hell Kei left the last of his shit we should be ready as soon as little sacrifice is rested up,” Dabi said, checking his phone, “Should we get him a gift?” he scrunched his face at the idea. Tomura shrugged.

“I don’t care, I’m not the one who pissed him off,” he rolled his eyes, “And you’re letting him in on your sacrificial bond, that’s kind of a gift,” he leaned his head against yours. Dabi hummed, continuing as he lost himself in thought.

“What does Kei look like?” you questioned, looking at Tomura as he leaned off you. He scowled.

“Pretty,” he grumbled, “If you’re into that sort of thing,” He pursed his rough lips, distaste clearly visible across his pale features.

“You’re pretty,” you said softly, placing a light kiss to his jaw, “both of you.”

Dabi stiffened, but kept walking as though unaffected. A smile twitched at the corner of Tomura’s lips and he kissed your cheek,

“You’re the pretty one here, dolly,” he muttered, the faintest hint of pink tinting his cheeks.

“We’re going to have to go into the regular dimension for the candles,” Dabi muttered, “Do you think she can handle it?” Tomura nodded,

“It’s not that bad. It’s different from the last time you were around,” he set you down, giving your ass a squeeze as Dabi scowled at him.

“We’re in public,” he muttered, pulling you into his side. You didn’t mind them touching you as they pleased, simply leaning in wherever their hands fell. Dabi’s fingers interlaced with yours and the three of you started back towards where you came, heading into a candle shop.

“Portal’s in the back, it’s three,” the clerk said immediately upon looking at your companions. They lead you into a back room labeled ‘employees only’ and your eyes went wide.

There was a chalk circle on the ground, but with much different shapes than the summoning circles you’d been in. Jars on shelves surrounded you, but in the dim lighting you couldn’t make out most of their contents. Another door was at the end of the room, odd symbols carved into the very old looking wood.

Dabi took a handful of stones out of his pocket, letting go of your hand to scatter them inside the circle. You stood close to Tomura, holding onto his sleeve nervously while the two of you watched. He approached the door, raking his nails down it in a pattern and beckoning you both to him. Tomura gripped your hand tightly as you entered, Dabi following behind.

Everything was pitch black, the darkness almost seeming to move the longer you stared into it. You could still feel Tomura’s hand clasped around yours, gripping it to have something to ground yourself. It almost felt like you were floating, barely any weight on your feet and the fabric of your dress flowing around your legs.

Gravity seemed to settle back down mostly to normal after several minutes, although it still felt slightly off. Light slowly crept into being, your eyes squinting and eventually clenching shut as it became brighter and brighter. When you peeled your eyes open you blinked several times, vision clearing to reveal a new room around you.

It looked old, like something out of a medieval-set horror movie, however the setup was the same as the last ritual room. The wood creaked under your feet and the door groaned loudly when Dabi swung it open, gesturing you and Tomura through. The shop layout was the same as before, but the old look of things had you wide-eyed and staring at everything. A pair of mismatched lips pressed gently to your head.

“You feel okay, sweetness?” Dabi asked, cradling your face. You nodded, partially at a loss for words.

“Where is this?” You asked, reaching for him and leaning heavily into his side when he wrapped an arm around you. Tomura released your hand, pulling his hair down and messing it up.

“Demon pocket,” he said simply, hunching a little more than usual. Combined with his now very messy hair he looked extra feral. Dabi rolled his eyes,

“It’s basically just a store. Summoning our old friend is gonna require some special materials,” he sighed, “Don’t say anything in here,” you nodded again, clinging to his side as he wound through the store.

He picked up several candles, each one carved into weird shapes and smelling absolutely foul. You scrunched up your face at the scent, holding your sleeve over your nose. Tomura snorted,

“It’s not that bad, dolly,” he leaned his face in close to yours, deepening his voice ominously, “they’re made from your kind, after all,” you shrunk further into Dabi’s side as he shot the other demon a dirty look, giving you a little squeeze.

“If you upset my sacrifice I’ll ban you from touching her for a century,” he warned. You nuzzled your face against him, practically purring when his hand ran up and down your back a couple times soothingly. Tomura scoffed, patting your head briefly.

They finished gathering candles of various colors and increasingly horrible scents and you trailed along with them to the front of the shop. A man was there, although you figured he was probably also a demon, and he packaged everything up and took a little vial from Dabi as payment. He briefly made eye contact with you and you immediately diverted your gaze to the floor, gripping the first hand you could reach, which was Tomura’s.

He put everything in what looked to be some sort of mail chute and sent it off, Dabi taking your other hand and pulling both you and Tomura along to the back of the store and into the ritual room. You watched him perform the same actions as before and the floating feeling and darkness overtook your senses again. This time, just as your feet seemed to hold your body weight again, you felt bile churn in your stomach and rise in your throat.

Dabi was two steps ahead, propping you up on your knees and making sure nothing was in your face, a bucket placed under you as you wretched and vomited. Your head spun, and when you’d finished emptying the few contents of your stomach you collapsed against him, barely registering the coos of “you’re okay” and “good girl.” He held you gently as you panted, dazed and limp in his arms.

He handed you off to Tomura while he dealt with the mess. You lost consciousness for a minute, coming to back in Dabi’s lap. You groaned, clinging to him and burying your face in his neck. He shushed you softly, hand rubbing circles into your back. You felt much better, albeit very embarrassed he’d not only seen but helped you in such a state.

“It’s hard the first few times,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your head, “once you get used to traveling between bigger dimensions it won’t feel like that. I didn’t tell you so you wouldn’t try to stop it or get stressed between the gaps.” You nodded, accepting whatever he told you as always. When you leaned back you noticed you must’ve been sleeping longer than you thought.

Your clothes had been changed and you were back in your pocket. Tomura was in bed, a handheld game in his hands and little irritated whispers leaving his lips. You yawned, snuggling back into Dabi’s warmth.

What you assumed were a few hours later you woke up again, rough staples briefly dragging along your face as he tried to rouse you. You stood up, rubbing your eyes as Tomura encased you in his arms from behind. He tilted your face and kissed you, letting his hands glide along your body, pinching and squeezing freely. You sighed against him, leaning into his touches for a while before Dabi pulled you apart.

“Look alive, sweetness,” he said, stealing a small kiss himself, “We got a bad angel to summon.”

@krystalwithakay

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@babayaga67

#demon shit #dabi x reader #shigaraki x reader #shigadabi x reader #shigadabi #demon au #mha demon au #shigaraki x reader x dabi #dabi x reader x shigaraki #dabi x shigaraki #shigaraki x dabi #dabi #shigaraki #tomura shigaraki #touya todoroki #toya todoroki #shigaraki tomura #tenko shimura

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regali-s · 4 years

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BETWEEN THE WAVES ➽ WAKATOSHI USHIJIMA x READER

genre: soft smut, black! female reader

wc: 5.3k

warnings: just my self indulgence and uhh reader has a coochie

a/n: hi! so originally this was gonna be longer and i was gonna write about them actually doing stuff in miyakojima but, due to my last two braincell misfiring, it ended up as just one smut oneshot instead. therefore! i have several smaller stories with toshi’s and reader’s two children, their dates on miyakojima during valentine’s weekend, a small little scene of them being cute and wholesome after this sex scene, and one more smut scene that’s more hard sex with some dom toshi. really, it’s just an excuse to let me write about him some more, but we don’t talk about that 😝

sunlight peers through the white windows of your bedroom, the sounds of waves crashing against the shoreline rousing you from your sleep. a gentle breeze filters through beige curtains and hits your naked figure, causing you to curl further into your husband’s warm body. you smile when you feel his arms wrapping around you, squeezing once as he encases you tighter, and when your eyes flutter open, they immediately search for his of olive, admiring the way that the golden flecks in them glisten under soft yellow lights.

serenity fills your morning together as you bask in the smell of the sea drifting across your bedroom. you feel relaxed in a way you hadn’t in a long time, thinking to yourself that it was a good idea for you and wakatoshi to take the weekend off to yourselves while your two children, hideyoshi and shiori, stayed with tendou who promised to look after them well.

your husband had planned a luxurious trip for the both of you to miyakojima, boarded your flight on friday afternoon and arrived at the villa by early evening. you had a gorgeous view of the coastline from your bedroom, and standing outside lets you see blue waters stretching across the horizon with the silver glow of the night sky. your suite came accompanied with a long outdoor pool and a hot tub where you could relax under millions of stars with a glass of wine, wrapped in your husband’s embrace and sharing slow kisses while you straddled his lap.

and that’s exactly how the both of you had spent your first evening. once the wine had fully settled into your bloodstream, you let yourself fall into a drunken haze as you sunk yourself down on wakatoshi’s cock, moaning into his neck and leaving trails of wet kisses that you know would make his head spin and for him to pull you flush against his hips, until his fingers bruised your sides and until you could feel his head hitting deep inside you while your walls massaged his shaft. that night, he’d been loud for you as you rode him, sweet moans that poured into your skin and set your body ablaze, praises of your name spilled out of his lips on breathy moans against your temple as he pumped you full of his cum.

“good morning, my love,” wakatoshi’s voice quietly rumbles inside his chest, sending vibrations throughout your body as he presses a lingering kiss to your forehead. you hum contentedly as you blissfully close your eyes, sighing as you bask in the feeling of his lips against your skin before seeking him out with your own.

“morning, toshi,” you murmur against him between your kisses, each one of them slow and passionate, thrumming beneath your skin and causing your heart to flutter inside your chest as you melt into him. it leaves you with a breathless giggle when your noses bump together, your smile hazy and dazed as you brush strands of brown hair from his forehead. beneath the sheets, he rubs soothing circles into your naked hips, pulls you closer to him until your legs are tangled together, your chest pressed up against his while his fingers dig comfortingly into your flesh. his touch is soothing as he caresses each curve of your body, over the stretch marks that web across your brown skin, brushing over your stomach and thighs until gradually they gently massage your ass. the tingling sensation left in the wake of his hands causes you to shiver against him, legs rubbing together when you feel his hardened member pressing up against your stomach. each twitch of him against you alerts you of his desires as does the heavy mist that masks his eyes. the weight and implications of the look he gives you paired with the way he begins to slowly rock his hips into you, grinding against your stomach all while he holds your gaze, it swirls between your legs and causes your lust to drip out of you in pools. there’s a question in his eyes, an invitation that blurs your surroundings until you can only focus on the warmth and heat of him against you.

“nngh— toshi...” you sigh when he hides his face in the crook of your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your skin and grazing you just barely with his teeth. a whimper escapes you when he finds the shell of your ear, biting gently before lapping over the area with his tongue as he continues to slowly rut against you. one of your hands rests against his stomach, fingers twitching with the urge to wrap themselves around him, to feel the weight and heat of his shaft in your palm as desire clouds your mind and urges you to pull him closer.

“w-wait... shouldn’t we check up on tendou?? see... ah!” he cuts off your words when his hands dip below your waist, fingers sliding between your slick folds to press against your clit. the moan that slips out of you is filthy, your hand leaves his hair to grasp his forearm; the firmness of his muscles serves to ground yourself against the desire clouding your mind, all while it pushes you further and further toward the brink of giving in entirely. “see how he’s doing with hide and shiori...”

this would be the first time that either you or wakatoshi would spend so much time away from your children, and, understandably, you were nervous to do so. it wasn’t that you don’t trust tendou — rather, you’d trust him with your life if it came down to it. he loved and cared for you and toshi’s children as if they were his own blood. but they’re your babies, so of course you’d worry. your four year old hide, especially tended to get anxious whenever he was away from either of you and—

“f-fuck— toshi...”

and just like that, your thoughts come to a complete standstill once you feel two of your husband’s finger sink into you, curling and caressing your slick walls.

“i’m sure they’ll be fine,” his whisper becomes the only thing you can hear, it ghosts along your skin as he curls his fingers in a ‘come hither’ motion. you can’t help the way your hips buck into him, a drawn out whine of his name fluttering from your lips when he begins to slowly pump in and out of you, squelching noises drowning the sound of the waves outside. his familiar smell of brown sugar and vanilla washes away the salty ocean breeze, it overpowers your senses, forces you to focus on the way his voice hums approval against your skin and the way his fingers coaxingly massage your aching walls, his knuckles brushing against your pussy lips as he sinks them deeper. his fingers are tall enough that they reach inside you so much further than you could ever hope to with your hands alone, the thickness of them makes you feel a stretch that burns just slightly and leaves you feeling full.

and yet, it doesn’t satisfy you completely.

it doesn’t stop you from seeking out the sensation only he’s ever been able to provide you with; for the familiar tightening of your stomach that makes you grind against his hand as if you wanted more, needed something else that would stretch you almost impossibly wide and fill you to the brim. it isn’t hard for wakatoshi to make you need him, to make you the desperate little thing who’d turn so pliant and obedient for him, and he knows it — you know he does when you feel him smile into your neck, when a deep chuckle sends vibrations rippling down your spine, your arousal spilling out of you in pools, all over his palm and down your thighs.

“it’s just us right now. i want you to focus on me and forget everything else.”

there’s a shift in his tone that has your breath hitching inside your throat. you recognize the slow and silent authority that he always carries when he’s with you like this, the glint in golden eyes that has you immediately submitting to him, that causes your pulse to beat only on his will. the effect is immediate and has you nodding obediently, your eyes unable to leave his intense stare as if he’d managed to pin you in place. you watch his lips move, but the picture is blurry, as if you watched him through a thick fog, and it takes the absence of his fingers to return your focus to him. you nearly whine at the loss of them stuffing you full, and there’s a complain bubbling up on the back of your throat until he uses them, slick with your arousal and all, to grip your chin tightly, and the words immediately die down in favour of letting his voice wash over you like the tide.

“you hear me?”

you try and nod as best as you can within his firm grasp. wakatoshi studies your expression — takes in the way your mouth opens up under the prying of his thumb, how you obediently suck on it when he pushes it between your plush lips. a low groan of approval makes you grind against his cock, desperately rubbing your cunt along him in search for some form of stimulation while he runs his thumb along your tongue.

“mmph...” your eyes flutter closed, a pop noise sounds inside the room as he pulls his thumb from your lips and instead presses the two fingers he had previously stuffing your cunt to fill your mouth. the taste of your arousal instantly fills your senses while he slowly thrusts them against your tongue as he presses down, you making sure to clean yourself off of him and coating his fingers with your saliva. drool slips from the corners of your lips, and as your smaller fingers struggle to barely wrap around his wrist, you cough slightly when he pushes them a bit further to the back, causing your eyes to water when you look up at him.

“sorry,” his hand returns to your hip, comfortingly rubbing circles over it while you clear your throat. “did i go too far back?”

the concern he shows for something so minor makes your chest swell with affection as you shake your head, cupping his cheek with your hand. you mimic his actions of rubbing circles into his skin and press a kiss to his lips. “it’s alright,” you reassure him, smiling when he greedily chases after you before you can pull away, your lips molding together as he tastes the addicting, almost maddening of your arousal on your tongue. wakatoshi’s always been one to worry about your comfort — it’s never once changed over the years you’ve spent together. each time he shows concern over you as he does now, fearing that he’d maybe scratched the back of your throat with his sudden movements, it kindles your love for him and turns the moments between you into something pure and intimate, filled with the love you two share for one another, and it makes you yearn all the more to feel his skin pressed up close to yours, until all your senses should be consumed by the thought and feel of him and the world around you fades away in the glory of hazel eyes.

you let your hands roam across his body, trailing your fingers along his jaw before they ghost along his neck, resulting in him firmly gripping on to your hip as a muffled grunt escapes him. the kiss you both share deepens as he presses closer to you, your tongue slipping past his lips to fully taste him against you, yourself on him. where your last kisses were tender and loving, this one is searing and causes your head to spin and steals your breath from you in small, subdued moans, each of which wakatoshi eagerly swallows up. tauntingly, well aware of how it only fuels your hunger for him, he pulls your lower lip between his teeth and gazes at you with half-lidded eyes, the intensity with which he pins you with never once allows you to look away as he pulls your leg over his hip, his other hand encasing your form from beneath you to wrap around your shoulders and pull your chest flushed against his.

the tip of his cock leaks against your lower lips, pushing against your clit before he slides himself between your wet folds and coats himself with your arousal. you whimper, longingly, trying to meet his movements by pressing yourself down on him, and wakatoshi watches with great fascination the way your face bends and contorts, mouth hanging open as you grip onto his shoulders. his hand leaves a trail of fire in its wake as his hand caresses your thigh, slowly climbing higher up until he cups your ass with his palm. the flesh of it spills between his fingers when he squeezes before his fingers sink inside your cunt once again, filling you up with their thickness as he begins pumping them quickly.

“nngh— haah!”

the suddenness of his pace has your hand flying up to his hair, pulling just barely on brown strands as your head flies back. you sigh when his lips latch on to your exposed neck, teeth sinking down into your skin and leaving pretty bruises to blossom all while he continues to drill you with his fingers. the room quickly fills up with the sounds of your slick, your hips buck to meet each thrust of wakatoshi’s fingers as he twists them inside of you, oh so desperate for the high of your orgasm that draws closer with each brush he makes against your gushing walls, against that spot deep inside you that has your vision flashing white.

“you gonna cum from just my fingers, sweetheart?” wakatoshi’s lips brush against your neck, the baritone of his voice rumbling against your skin as he presses deeper inside you, drawing a sharp cry of his name from your gaping lips. your head bobs in response to his question, a whiny “mhm,” is all that you’re able to give him as you press your palm flat against his chest, the feeling of his skin against yours just barely keeps you tethered to reality, all while it fuels your desire to feel his skin. your other hand finds itself cupping the back of his head, where the short hairs of his undercut tickle your skin as you pull him closer to you, the leg that’s wrapped around his back hugging tighter.

“fuck, toshi... i’m so close, please.”

your lover pulls away from your neck to look at your face, takes in the lewdness of your parted lips and furrowed brows, your eyes that beg him to ruin you with the way you look at him so desperately. olive hues glint with hunger as his fingers hit that spot inside of you, causing you to release a loud cry as your body trembles. your cunt squeezes around him as the chord in your gut pulls tight, and wakatoshi marvels at the way you grip down on him so greedily, making it hard to move inside of you. his cock twitches against your thigh with a burning need to bury himself inside of you, to feel your walls hugging him just as you do his fingers. the thought urges him to finish you off faster. he wants to see you fall apart, he wants to erase the sky and the sea and replace it all with this moment, with himself, till your voice is all he can think of as he finger fucks you through your pleasure.

“that’s it, darling,” he praises, coaxes a chorus of breathless cries from you while your hips buck into his palm, the heel of it pressed against your sensitive clit. your nails dig into his shoulder, sinking into the skin while your orgasm rushes over you. your cum spills out into wakatoshi’s hands, leaves them drenched as he continues to work your pulsing walls as he watches you come undone, the squelching sounds increasing as your juices squirt out of you in little drops. he’s entirely rapped up in the way you tremble against him, in the way your eyes never once look away from him as your pussy suckles on his fingers, tears lining your lashes and your eyes dazed on pleasure. his fingers gradually slow down, not yet pulling out when you pull him into a deep kiss that fills his mouth with your love and desire, your leg wrapping around his back and locking him into you. without pulling back, your hand travels south, draws faint lines across his chest, down his abs until it wraps around his hardened cock.

precum oozes from his tip, slicks between your fingers as you gently massage his tip, and wakatoshi rewards you with a slow, deep groan that pours out into your mouth and fills you with the sound of it. you want to pleasure him just as he’d done for you, and so you pull away from him, wanting to let your spit dribble over his pretty pink tip, all glazed and slick with precum as it twitches against your lips before taking him into your mouth, but — as if he can read minds — your husband pulls away and grips your thigh before you can move.

“not now,” he shakes his head, the words whispered against your lips and in between the fleeting kisses that litter around your mouth, against the corners and on your jaw before he finally kisses your lips fully. his hand leaves your thigh to cover yours wrapped around his throbbing length, squeezing your fingers around it, and as he guides the head to just barely press past the opening of your cunt, grazing your clit with little brushes that has your hips chasing more, he makes sure that your eyes are focused on him . “i need you, (y/n). as much as i want your pretty lips wrapped around my cock, i need to be inside of you”

his words spikes your own craving for him, teaches you an impatience that hadn’t taken to your slow fucking the night before as you sigh longingly. and yet, despite that yearning between you two, you still manage to pull away from him and give a cheeky smile. “you sure you don’t want to see me wearing your cum like my favourite lip gloss?”

your husband chuckles at your words, his head dips against your shoulder where his baritone voice ripples across your skin and draws from you a laugh of your own. “darling, you already know how much i love seeing your mouth filled with my cum... but—”

a sharp, startled gasp rips out from your lips, it trails off into a dirty cry of “toshiii...!!” when he pushes himself inside your tight little cunt, not without resistance but almost seamlessly due to the remnants of your first orgasm. he groans as he feels you immediately clamp down on him while your vision blurs with stars at the addictive sensation of your husband’s cock filling you up with every single inch that sinks between your folds. he captures your moan with a passionate kiss when he buries himself to the hilt, basking in the way your walls flutter around him and suck him in, embracing these few moments of stillness while you’re whimpering into his mouth. no matter how many times he’d fucked you, you still feel every bit as amazing, just as divine as if heaven had granted to him an angel of his own. he groans as he presses his hips into yours, seeking out your body with the hand that grips your back.

“i’d prefer to fill this pretty pussy of yours up instead. wouldn’t you want that, my love?”

his words register inside your mind and wash over your skin like a searing flame, yet all that you can focus on is the stretch that his cock provides you with. wakatoshi’s much bigger than average — almost impossibly so. no matter how much prep the both of you do beforehand, there would always be some mild discomfort whenever he slides into you for the first time. you’d never be able to get enough of the way he stuffed your pussy full of his cock, filling you up in a way you’d never felt prior to meeting him. it’s like a drug, really, the way you crave for it whenever his fingers skim tantalizingly over your curves, or when his eyes pin you down with all the power and lust that only you would ever witness. that desire and yearning from him is because of you, belongs to you and you alone, and the thought of it fills you up with pride as you feel his cock twitch inside of you.

your hips rock into him without your conscious decision, silently urging for your husband to move. it’s his cue to start with slow, deep thrusts that drag against your squelching walls, each time he pulls out he’s met with a resistance that fights to keep him inside of you as your hands dance along his muscles, as if you sought to paint him with your touch and leave your marks to shine on his skin like golden paint.

there’s no rush in the way he fucks you. there’s no harsh pounding or slurred words that burn into your skin. instead, wakatoshi fucks you slowly, making sure that you feel each and every drag of his cock inside of you while he basks in your warmth, in the way that you pant against him and the way your hands can’t seem to keep themselves off his body. every drag of your palm against his skin sends shivers down his spine as he bites your shoulder, and he returns your affection in kind by running his finger down your spine, drawing circles into your lower back that pull little whimpers from you.

wakatoshi knows your body like he knows himself, remembers every one of your sensitive places just as you do his. he could trace a map of your skin with his eyes closed, and yet he’d never once get tired of exploring you and everything you have to offer to him.

he finds your sweet spot easily, thrusting against it with every snap of his hips against you. “haah— haaah, fuck, toshiiii!” you keen. your body jolts in reaction to his actions and your hands immediately wrap around his back, locking him into a vice grip while you press your forehead into his shoulder. “right there, ohh fuck— please, don’t stop, nngh! don’t stop, it feels so fucking good...!!”

“yeah? right here feel good, hm? fuck, darling—!” the curse rumbles deep inside his throat, groaning as his lips dance along your temple; he basks in your aroma of sweet apples and mandarins, sighing against your skin as one hand comes up to cup your tits, the soft flesh spilling between his fingers as he massages it gently. your chest wasn’t the most sensitive part of your body and he knows, but he enjoys the way the pliant flesh dances between his fingers, loves when he has his mouth full with it as he sucks on your nipples while his fingers spread you apart. “you feel so good around me — shit, you’re squeezing me so tight... want me to pump you full with my cum? hm? that what my sweet little baby wants?”

“yes—!” you gasp, “fuck, yes, toshi, i want all of your cum, pleasepleaseplease...!!”

a groan escapes him at your words that reverberates across your skin like. “fuck, (y/n)...” his strokes hit you deep each time he pushes into you, till his body nearly comes to fully cage you against the mattress while his hands grip your hip in place for him to fuck into you. “‘m gonna fill you up so well, you hear me? nngh— gimme another baby, hm? do that for me, will you? shit—” his lips leave your temple to bite your ear, hands squeezing your hips hard enough to bruise as his body weight presses against you. you lay beneath him on your back, both your legs hugging his waist as he pistons in and out of you, your chests and stomachs pressed so closely together that you can’t think about where he ends and where you begin. you’re entirely lost in wakatoshi and everything that he is, in the way his arms wrap around your smaller frame, in the way he pins you down beneath his weight, in his lips that scatter fleeting kisses at the corner of your eye, the praises that he showers you with while he drills his cock inside of you, and—

“fuck, toshi— toshiiii, ah! toshi ‘m gonna cum— fuuuck i wanna cum, please!”

your thighs squeeze around his frame as you push your hips up to meet each thrust, grinding against him sensually as he bites his lip. one of his large hands cup the side of your face as he groans in your ear, letting every harsh breath travel straight through your body and down to your gushing pussy, setting every part of you on fire as the coil in your gut tightens once more.

“go ahead, darling,” he moans, pressing open mouthed kisses against your jaw. your eyes flutter open to the ceiling above you, where you could clearly see the image of your bodies tangled together in the overhead mirror. every ripple of his back muscles, the sight of his eyes closed while he kisses the side of your face; your arms and legs caging in his body as your palms dance along his back, your mouth hanging open on cries of his name and the feeling of ecstasy that erases the world around you until there’s left nothing but the two of you. every smack of your hips together is given a visual as wakatoshi’s grunts fill your ear, everything turns just a bit more intimate, becomes the picture of the passionate, love-making sex that you two have in this moment, and the very notion of it sends your heart leaping inside your chest and your cunt squeezing on to your husband even more.

and then his eyes are meeting yours in the mirror with a fire that burns your skin and sets the world ablaze beneath deep ocean waters. his gaze locks with yours as he utters the single command against your ear, just as you both watch and feel his muscles dancing beneath your hands as he slowly — almost torturously so — slides himself back into you, hits that spongy spot inside your walls with an accuracy that only he could have. you can’t help the tears that brim in your eyes as a curse of “fuck!” escapes you, quivering and oh so melodious like the chiming of bells. had you ever needed to say it out loud, you’d confess that you never wanted this moment between you two to end. that you’d never want to be apart from him lest you allow space between your bodies... you only want to remain close to him, for his skin to warm yours, for his cock to stay buried inside of you, and—

“cum for me.”

your cunt immediately gushes around his cock, your juices pouring out of you and soaking your thighs and his stomach, hot and slick against your skin and sloshing obscenely with every stroke your husband makes. he moans loudly at the feeling of your walls squeezing him, breath trembling against your skin at the feeling of your heartbeat pulsating around his shaft as he continues to fuck you slowly.

“that’s it, baby” he sighs, “thaaaaat’s it, fuck. so fucking good for me.”

“toshii...” you whimper. overstimulation numbs your mind and washes away everything around you that isn’t him, till it feels like the world spins and holds you upside down and your breath stutters on the clouds; it brings your tears pouring over your lashes, and yet your hips still rut up against his, seeking out that addictive feeling of him filling you up, urging him to finish so that he’d pour out into you too. you bring your hand up to cup his jaw, thumbs brushing his cheek as you seek his lips against yours. “fuck— nngh, toshi kiss me, pleasepleaseplease kiss me...”

you didn’t need to ask him twice; his lips were on yours before the words are fully out of your mouth, locked together as you cried into him. his own hands slide up your sides, lingering to squeeze where he knows you’re sensitive, and you reward him by squealing against his lips as your pussy clamps down on him. with his head now hovering over yours, he pulls away to look you in your eyes, takes in the beauty of how fucked out you look panting beneath his body and coming undone by his hands, from his dick pumping into you. swollen lips that pour out your sweet, pretty little moans and glossy eyes, your round tits that bounce with every move he makes, dark bruises forming on your skin from where he marked you, and your pussy, god, your pussy pulling him in like you were so fucking desperate to be filled to the brim with his cum—

“fuck, toshi please, i’m begging you...” you moan, breathless; needy. “i need your cum, baby, please... cum inside me, hm?”

the pure yearning in your voice as your eyes lock with his sends him over the edge, a long moan of your name shakes you to your core as his cock twitches inside of you, spurting loads of cum inside your greedy cunt and painting your insides white. the feeling of his cum spreading around inside of you, mixing with your moisture and gushing against your walls nearly blinds him with the feeling, and yet he focuses on how good he feels inside of you, how fucking gorgeous you look beneath him while the sun hits your brown skin, how you glisten like diamonds in his arms and, really, you’re the most beautiful person wakatoshi’s ever laid his eyes on.

the warm sensation of him filling you up causes you to smile as you mutter little praises for him, “that’s it, give me everything... feels good?” to which he nods into your hands, ever seeking of your skin against his face as he tilts further into your hold. the both of you are breathless as your highs fade out, and wakatoshi’s forehead presses against yours, his body collapses lightly against you as he tries to regain his breath.

you both stay this way, basking in the afterglow of sex that slowly fades out, eyes locked with each other and chests heaving with your laboured breaths until wakatoshi leans down and plants a full, sweet kiss against your lips. you hum against him as your arms come to wrap around his shoulders and your fingers tangle into his hair, pulling him to lay entirely on top of you while his hands wrap around your waist.

“i love you,” you murmur between your kisses, chuckling when he greedily chases you for more, the taste of your lips addicting and so, so fulfilling to him. he loves them, loves the way your body feels so warm against him, loves the way your fingers card through his hair, loves the way your locks splay beneath your body, loves the way the waves crash against the shore on gentle symphonies like a soundtrack, the way the sun shines its light down on you; he smiles and presses a whisper against your lips that sings like a declaration of his affections.

“i love you, (y/n).”

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