#the way your eyes go fuzzy when he squeezes the pressure point

[mintmatcha]

choking tw

[pearlzier]

︵︵ DAY THREE ﹐ MIRROR SEX ☆

ᰍִ ꒰ KINKTOBER. ִ✧ㅤㅤ masterlist.

WARNINGS .ᐣ mirror sex. pwp. dirty talk. kinda mean!dean. afab!reader. p in v. dean doesn't pull out, dean cums in reader LMFAO.

NOTES .ᐣ uhhh what do u guys think of the layout, do u like it??? :3 tried somethin new!!!

"Y'CAN KEEP WHININ' ALL Y'WANT, but i told you to keep your eyes on the mirror, didn't i?" you whine and whimper when you feel dean's thrusts come to a stop. he'd been pistoning his hips against yours roughly, bucking them against your ass as his cock slid in and out of you in a steady pace. he would've kept going, if only you could just follow instructions and keep looking at yourself. he wanted you to see how good he could wreck you, make you a fuzzy mess by the time he was done.

and he couldn't make that point if you weren't even looking at yourself, could he? "s'not that hard to listen to me," he mutters, scoffing at the fact being full made you incapable of thinking properly. you let out a pathetic sound as his hand slides over your shoulder to grasp your jaw, your lips parting instantly with the squeeze and flex of his fingers that follows. it draws your attention up to the mirror and your eyes meet his green ones through the glass.

you look like a mess, hair mussed from being grabbed and tugged on by his hands—your legs trembling from having to hold yourself up. you don't have to worry about that one for much longer however, he's practically holding you up with his other hand whilst the other grasps at your jaw. "but, it's embarrassing—" you try to protest, voice whiny and weak. dean's eyes only darken more at that, and a soft smirk finds its way onto his lips.

"embarassin'?" he tuts quietly, thumb tracing over your bottom lip before he pulls on it a little and tugs it down, his head tilting. leaning his head in closer, he murmurs, "could make this a lot more embarassin' for you, baby, so i'd listen if i were you." forcing your head up, he coos, "that's better, let me see those pretty eyes. that's it." he thinks you look perfect like this, a mess because of him.

you scoff quietly, bottom lip trembling a little. your cunt clenches around nothing needily, missing the feel of him inside you. "mmh, i'm looking now, happy?" dean hums behind you, biting back a full on grin knowing you can see him in the mirror now that you're looking up. he rolls his shoulders in a shrug, lining himself back up with your cunt and sliding back inside with relative ease. you take him with no resistance, having grown used to being stuffed full of him.

"real happy," dean murmurs with a little roll of his hips, dragging his cock down your walls before pushing back up again. he repeats this a little, feeling your arousal start to drip down the length of him. with how he's propped the mirror up and how he's got the two of you positioned, he can see the way the head of his cock breaches your hole when he pulls back only to be buried to the hilt when he thrusts forward again. "looks like i ain't the only one," he grunts, shifting a little closer so the back of your thighs are flush against the front of his own.

all you can think, hear, see, is dean. he's right behind you, his hands are on you. he'd moved his hand from your jaw to grasp at your hips, so he could gain the leverage he needed to pound into you. you would've closed your eyes and felt the pleasure if it wasn't for the fact he'd stop if you weren't looking. now, you have to focus on the way his biceps flex from the pressure of holding you up or listen to the way he grunts and growls with every rock of his body up into yours.

it's embarassing for you, the way you whine and make loud noises because his dick is ramming into you and making your legs tremble. with ease, his hand slips down to circle your clit. "actin' like you don't get off on lookin' like a whore," he murmurs quietly, seeing the way you immediately squeal at the touch. you can't deny the fact you're just as into his as he is. even if using a mirror was completely his idea, you'd loved it from the moment he'd even brought it up once. needless to say, you didn't need much convincing to be bent over like this.

even still, you don't want to admit it. because that'll give him serious satisfaction to know that you like this as much as he does. the embarassment isn't all that awful, if anything, it makes you clench around him and coat his shaft with your juices. "i do—don't," you mumble, despite the fact you're sure you're about to cum from his movements and touches to your clit. he's practically drilling into you, considering the fact you hadn't looked away from the mirror for a whole now.

"yeah? you don't?" he asks, brow furrowing. he knows full well you're lying, because one, you're a shit liar when it comes to dean, and two, he can call your bluff from how you've been whining his name this whole time.

he reaches a hand out, leaving the one on your clit to continue circling and applying pressure to the bundle of nerves whilst the other grasps at your hair to tilt your head down to look further down at yourself in the mirror. it's a mixture of mess on your thighs, his pre-cum having oozed down the inside of the flesh and mixed with your wetness. your eyes widen a little and once again, you clench around him making him groan. "thinkin' y'can lie to me," for that, he only picks up the brutal pace further, the sound of skin against skin getting louder and practically bouncing off the thin walls of the motel.

the people in the other room can most definitely hear the two of you, but neither of you could, or would actually care. both of you are so close, he's sure he only needs a couple more strokes inside you 'til he's painting your thighs white with his cum—and you're sure you only need a few more thrusts till you're making a mess on him. "dean, nngh, oh.." and besides, you'd been relatively good for him this entire time, you're sure he won't make you hold off on your climax like he usually does when you've been acting up.

he's panting as he speaks, "look at yourself, baby," his hand moving off your clit whilst the other moves from your head to grasp at your hips again and drag you back down on him to meet his thrusts. "c'mon, that's it, look at yourself. lookin' so pretty takin' my cock like that. so warm, could stay here forever," you know he's close from how he keeps talking, needs to focus his mind on anything other than how his body tenses with the impending release.

"feels so good, looks so good," his hum that follows your words is a self assured sound. he knows how good it feels, looks, he gets to see you like this everytime he fucks you. but he's glad you get to see just how pretty you are when you're on the verge of climax like this. so, so pretty, whimpering and begging for him to go harder and make you cum. "gonna.. fuck, gonna come," you stammer, unable to hold off any longer. "can i? ca—can.. please," dean can't help but smile when you ask for permission like that, and he nods.

"yeah, sweetheart, go on," his eyes shut for a moment, breaking a rule he'd set for you. but really, neither of you care at the moment. you're both far too distracted at the moment to be paying attention to whether rules are being followed. "want you to watch how you look when you gush on my dick though, can you do that for me? for me?" he asks, his own tone the faintest bit begging. dean doesn't whine, or beg, don't get him wrong, but to watch you watch yourself as you come around him would get him that little bit over the edge.

"mmh, yeah, yeah—shit, nnh, like that.. gonna.." you gasp, thighs trembling and shaking as you have to grasp at the mirror to steady yourself. quickly, your eyes dart upwards to the glass to watch yourself too and you let out the prettiest moan at the sight. so fucked out, so dishevelled and messy. it's a perfect look on you. dean knows it too, he's grunting and growling the moment you lock eyes with yourself and eventually his thrusts start to stutter and become uneven.

"come with me, dean, please," you don't have ask twice, he's burying his head by the crook of your neck and biting, muffling his sounds as he rocks his hips forward that little bit more and gets over the edge. a warmth floods you, both from your orgasm and his own, and you feel so warm, his cock pulsing as his cum oozes out and fills you. the two of you stay like that for a moment, and you finally get to close your eyes, feeling the bliss and pleasure.

you hear a quiet murmur of his voice muffled against your skin, and you shift a little, his softening length still inside of you. "i said," dean speaks up a little, "we gotta do that again," and he means it. god, he'd do it again and again just to see the way you reacted to seeing yourself ruined by him. honestly? he was ready to go again right now.

ִ ֹ ★ @blue-d, @gibson-g1rl , @stevelacylovebot, @psychicnatural , @funkycoloured, @lovesickgrlsrh0t, @soldierboycunt, @hrtsoldierboy, @beetlejenna, @venusiers , @v3nusasagrl , @imwetforyourmom, @pr3ttyf4wn, @pillwebb, @beridollie, @sl33pylilbunny , @sincerebabydoll, @angelicjackles, @deansbite, @beausling, @jasvtsc, @mattsdolll, @angelicp0etry, @cherrynflowergarden, @goofygooberspidey, @spookyysinsanity, @chrissdollie, @mgchaser, @yummycement, @gxldenlush, @morganwrites12672, @dayzeandhaze, @fallbhind, @jackleslvr. ꒱

[dark-and-kawaii]

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ 𝓓𝓸𝓷’𝓽 𝓛𝓲𝓮 ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

ʜᴀᴀʀʟᴇᴘ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ/ᴛᴀᴠ

⋆˙⟡♡ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱʟɪᴘᴘᴇᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ʙᴇᴅ, ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ ᴏꜰ ʀᴀᴘʜᴀᴇʟ’ꜱ ᴇᴍʙʀᴀᴄᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱɪᴍᴘʟʏ ɢᴇᴛ ᴀ ᴅʀɪɴᴋ… ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴘɪɴɴᴇᴅ ʙᴇɴᴇᴀᴛʜ ʜᴀᴀʀʟᴇᴘ ᴀꜱ ʀᴀᴘʜᴀᴇʟ ꜱʟᴇᴇᴘꜱ ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅʟ��.

⋆˙⟡♡ Slight NSFW | Angst? | Dubious | Sloppy Kisses

“Aw, poor little mouse, so desperate~” Haarlep had said it in the most condescending way and it shouldn’t have made your tummy flutter as much as it did. Biting back a reluctant moan you tilt your head to the side, your eyes find Raphael sound asleep on the bed just a few feet away from you and the incubus…

Haarlep doesn't give you much time to think. He presses you into the floor, your knees trembling under the pressure of their body pushing against yours, “I’m awfully worried about you~”.

They cup your chin and stroke their thumb across your lower lip, their nails just barely pricking the skin before forcing your head back to look them in the eyes. A wicked smile gracing their lips, “Raphael is quite inept, I'm afraid~ I doubt he pleases you even when he tries his best. Adorable, yet so disappointing for you~”.

You wanted to tell them how wrong they were but your words get drowned out by the incubus, who seems to know exactly what you're going to say, “Ah, ah, ah, don't try to lie to me, sweet one~”

“Y-you’re wrong, Haarlep.” You push against their chest, trying to create space between you and them, but it only causes them to press harder against you, “N’no- R-Raphael is not inept! H-he’s-“

A deep chuckle resonates in the room, making your core burn hotter than it already was, “No, no, you poor thing, I know the truth. And the truth is you crave something more~”. Haarlep’s tail curls around your delicious thigh, a light squeeze from it causes you to gasp softly.

Their tongue flicks over your lips before snaking into your mouth, a mixture of both of your saliva pooling in your mouth, threatening to drip down your chin. Haarlep’s tongue twists and twirls with yours, the taste of their mouth driving you mad. Their kiss was nothing like Raphael’s, ‘nn-no…’ , the taste was different- a taste that was distinctly Haarlep, and they were so much more aggressive. So much more needy and hungry and it made you weak…

“Mm~ ♡“ Their fingers thread through your hair tugging sharply at the roots, eliciting a moan from your lips before breaking away from the kiss- a thin strand of saliva keeping you connected before the incubus breaks it with a flick of their tongue, “You want me~ Tell me you want me, Raphael’s mouse. Beg for my touch~"

You whimper, biting your lower lip as your hands curl around their leather black straps. Your head feels light, thoughts muddled and fuzzy, and the only thing that makes any sense right now is, “I-I want you, Haarlep. P-please~ f-fuck me, Haarlep~”. Your eyes peering over once more at your precious sleeping cambion, Raphael… “I-I-I… n’no~ I need-“ You tried to fight the words, tried to shut your legs and stop your wetness, but Haarlep had you in their web, “H-haarlep~ you, Haarlep~. P-Please~”.

The incubus hums in delight, their grin broadening, the sharp points of their teeth glinting in the dim candlelight, “That's a good dove~ Such a pretty and perfect little thing you are~! Now let's have some real fun, hm?”

You could feel Haarlep’s tail spread your leg, the tip flicking teasingly across the skin before curling around the back of your thigh and yanking you closer to their harden cock, “let me show you who you really wish to belong to~ ♡ "

[thescarletnargacuga]

Regular digital circus showtime fic thats just

Caine (in a doctors outfit): Worry not pomni! As soon as i figure out what horrible illness is plaguing you i will not rest until you are cured!

Pomni: Caine for the 17th time it is litterally a minor cold.

Caine: I WILL CURE THIS ILLNESS FOR MY AMAZING WIFE OR DIE TRYING!

SNIFFLES

A SHOWTIME ONESHOT

WARNING: none

~~~

Pomni wasn't feeling one hundred percent. Still well enough to stand with the others and listen to Caine prattle on about the day's adventure, but she wanted to go back to bed. Her eyelids felt heavy and, despite not having a nose, felt the need to sniff mucus back every few minutes. She took a long sniff, loudly announcing to the room that she wasn't feeling her best.

Caine stopped talking almost immediately. "Pomni? What was that?"

"Huh? Oh, it's nothing. Keep talking. I didn't mean to interrupt."

"Oh my goodness gracious gravy. You're sick!" He zips to her and sweeps her off her feet. "Not to worry, my dear, I'll have you feeling better in a jiffy!"

"Wha- Caine!" She holds onto him for balance as he zooms off.

The other circus members watch Caine fly away. "So...we adventuring today or not?" Jax asks, looking at Bubble.

"How should I know? I'm a bubble." Bubble spun around in the air without a care in the world.

~

Pomni plopped down on an examination table. Bright florescent lights illuminated a doctor's office space. With a flourish, Caine's tux turned into a white doctor's coat and his cane turned into a clipboard.

"Caine, I'm fine. It's just a cold."

"It is most definitely not fine!" Caine rests his fist against his hip. "You are my wife. As your husband, it is my solemn duty to help you in any way I can."

"I appreciate that, but-"

"I will find a cure for this illness OR DIE TRYING!" Caine clicked his feet together at attention.

"Caine, please-"

"Now, now, just relax." Caine pushed her back to have her lay down on the examination table. "Leave everything to me. First, I should check your blood pressure. Since you have no blood in the digital realm, I'll have to improvise."

He strapped a bottle of ketchup to her arm and then wrapped the cuff of the sphygmomanometer around both. He squeezed the bulb to inflate the cuff until the bottle of ketchup burst. "Hmm, seems a little low." He tapped the ketchup covered gauge.

Pomni wiped ketchup off her face. "It's just a cold, Caine." She deadpanned.

"Now, to check your ears- wait, I forgot you don't have any. Uh, I suppose I could check your reflexes." A giant cartoon mallet appeared in his hand.

"Ah!" Pomni rolled off the table before the mallet came down. "It's just a cold!"

"Pomni, I need your full cooperation if you want to get better." He tossed the mallet away, a cartoon crash along with a cat's yowl sounded. "Oh! How could I forget, I need to check your throat! Say ah!"

"What? Mmph!!" Pomni nearly gagged when Caine shoved one of his eyes into her mouth.

Caine held his hand over her mouth for a few seconds before letting her spit out his eye. It bounced off the floor, to the wall and back in place through the back of his mouth. "I didn't see any fuzzy purple spots. This is most troubling. You're supposed to have at least three per corner."

"Caine, STOP! It's JUST a COLD!!"

Caine flinched at her shouting. He shrank down to the ground, tapping his fingers together nervously. "I'm...doing too much again, aren't I?"

Pomni sighed. "No, you're not doing too much. You're working yourself into a tizzy and not listening to me. Your anxiety deafens you to the point that I have to shout. I don't like doing that." She rubs her arm, looking away.

"I just-....I worry."

"I know you do, but even when you worry about someone, please listen to what they have to say."

Caine hung his head. "I'm sorry..."

Pomni put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It's okay. You're okay. I'm not mad. I'm glad you care so much in your own unique way. If it helps, I'll let you play doctor a little longer, but I assure you, it's just a cold. I'll be fine in a few days."

"Okay." Caine held up his stethoscope. "Can I listen to your heartbeat?"

Pomni hopped up on the table. "Of course." She sat still for him as he gently pressed the chestpiece against her.

Caine heard only a quiet buzz of static. Normal for a digital avatar. He went to pull away when Pomni held his hand to her chest.

"Ba-bum...ba-bum..." Pomni repeated rhythmically.

"What are you doing?" Caine arched his top teeth quizzically.

"It's what a human heart sounds like. I'm just playing along." Pomni smiled.

Caine smiled back, holding the chestpiece in place a little longer to hear Pomni mimic the steady beat of a real human heart. "Sounds healthy."

"It is. It gets a lot of exercise when I see the most handsome AI in the whole world."

Caine blushed and giggled. "Stahp, I bet you say that to every AI."

"Nah, just the one I married." Pomni leaned towards him with come-hither eyes.

Caine smirked, leaning in with her. "Lucky fella."

"I'm the lucky one." Pomni softly kissed his bottom teeth.

[miasmaghoul]

MIASSMAAA. I finally thought of a prompt for you, when you have the time. I really want to see Dew being the one doing the wrecking for once instead of the other way around. He can do it, I know he can. (right?!)

Partner of your choosing. ♥

hhhhhhhhh

Comet.

COMET.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

>:)

All of the ghouls dominate differently.

You want to be made to feel small, to feel owned? Go to Mountain.

You want to be taken care of, to have every last worry pushed out of your mind and body? Aether is your man.

You want to be degraded, debased and to be shoved so far into subspace that you can't remember how to get back? Find Rain, any day of the week.

Most of the ghouls' preferences in these things line up with their personalities, with a small handful of exceptions. As such, you may think Dewdrop the short-tempered spitfire is all about instant gratification. About sharp, fast and hard. Less structured, more freeform.

Sometimes you'd be right. Dew will release his inner inferno upon request, leaving marks both mental and physical. A flash fire of pain and suffocating pressure. Quick build up and quicker breakdown. He was still the only one who could break Mountain in the way the earth ghoul sometimes craved. Dew would burn hot and bright, cracking open Mountain's mantle and exposing his molten core for all to see.

But most of the time, Dewdrop preferred the steady wrath of a controlled burn. Slow and maddening, spreading to overtake everything in its path. A low flame designed to overwhelm. To consume.

Aether can never get enough of it.

He doesn't know how long he's been here, and he doesn't care. His shoulders ache from his arms being cinched to the headboard with his own belt. Every move he makes sends a jolt of brightness to the fuzzy mass where his brain used to be. The tie around his eyes is damp with tears and sweat, the fabric too rough against his face. His skin is on fire. His teeth are vibrating. His bones are dissolving. He can't stop making those sweet, feminine noises Dew loves so much.

Dewdrop is everywhere. His mouth is sucking a new dark spot into Aether's throat. One hand is at Aether's nipples, flicking and rolling and tugging the reddened nubs. The other strokes his side with ticklish pressure, just enough to make him twitch. A slim thigh is slotted between Aether's quivering ones, trapping his dick against his belly. Aether lets out a reedy whine as he feels another spurt of precum flow onto his already slick skin.

His mind is shot. His body screams with burning tension as slender fingers come to wrap around the base of his cock. Aether lets out a sob when Dew squeezes, shuddering as the tidal wave of his orgasm recedes yet again. He can't stop whimpering and mewling, trying to get any stimulation from the little ghoul's hand. It's a useless effort, Dew has him solidly pinned and beyond weak.

"Got really close that time, huh?" Dewdrop hums against his throat, rough tongue laving over his pulse point. "I felt you getting even wetter for me, big guy." Aether's breath catches in his chest as Dew pushes himself away, moving to sit at Aether's side. Not so much as a claw touching his heated skin.

It's insanity, Aether is sure of it. His body cries for contact as his mind begs for distance. He can feel a fresh wave of tears soaking into his blindfold, his throat tight around his words.

"Please, please, Dew-"

"What is that, eight? Nine?" Dewdrop's voice is low and smooth, falsely disinterested. If Aether wasn't blindfolded he'd be able to read Dew like a book.

"T-Twelve," Aether stammers, rocking his hips up into nothing. Dew whistles.

"Really? Wow, you must be just miserable by now, huh?" Dew sounds like he's talking to a child that dropped their ice cream cone and it makes Aether's entire pelvis ache. He clenches around the mercifully unpowered vibrating plug Dew loves to torment him with.

"Hurts," he hisses, and it's true. He's hard as diamond, he swears it. Leaking constantly, slick and shiny and purple at the tip. Even the cool air of the room stings for how sensitive he is.

"I bet, yeah," Dew murmurs. "You should see what a mess you are. It's probably even worse because I'm not touching you, right?"

Aether feels his lower lip quivering as he nods and prays that Dew doesn't notice it. His hips are still rolling steadily into the air, an unconscious motion of desperate need.

"What a shame," Dew tuts, "do I need to leave while you calm down again?"

"N-no!" Aether chokes out, panicked. "Please, no!" The thought of Dew being any further than he is right now makes his chest hurt. He can't breathe. He needs Dew against him again, needs his fiery skin and sharp claws and jagged teeth to flay him down to the last raw nerve. He needs to burn.

"Hey, hey, I'm right here big guy," Dew soothes, a warm hand coming to rest over Aether's heart. It's immediately grounding and Aether feels the crushing weight in his chest lift. He sucks in air as Dew makes quiet shushing sounds, dragging him slowly back to Earth. Once Aether's breathing has evened out,

"You back with me, Aeth?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm- " he's shaking all over, buzzing, every nerve on high alert, "I'm good, I just -"

"Can you give me a color?'' Dew's voice is firm and guiding, and Aether sighs.

"Green, green, I promise. Please touch me Dew, I need it, I -" Aether breaks off into a harsh moan as Dewdrop rakes his claws lightly over his stomach, his mouth latching onto an abused nipple. He drags the pad of his finger down Aether's length and the noise he makes is nothing short of sinful.

"You think I'll get anything out of it if I fuck you? Or are you gonna cum in half a second?" Aether wails, hips bucking against Dew's finger. The answer is probably the latter, but he'd worry about his punishment later.

"Please, please fuck me Dew, I need it, please-" Aether groans when he feels Dewdrop straddle him, bony knees pressing into the soft sides of his belly. Aether lets his head roll side to side as Dew grips his pained length, rubbing the tip against his slick hole. Dew sinks down onto him with agonizing slowness and a long, drawn out moan. Aether doesn't remember how to breathe until Dew is fully seated and panting softly.

"I can feel you throbbing," he mutters, clenching just to hear the choked sound it rips from Aether's throat. "If you cum before I do you're dry for a week."

Dewdrop starts to bounce, and the controlled burn begins again.

[afterdarkprincess]

Mine

Pairing: Seth Rollins/Dean Ambrose Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2083 AO3 Link Look at that a finished WIP! This one is just pure unadulterated filth, enjoy at your own discretion 18+ only!!

tag squad: @feelschicken @elementaldoughnut12 @jeysbvck @southerngirl41 @harmshake @imabillyami

This fic is Explicit and contains: Rough Sex, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Fingering, Spit as Lube, Hair Pulling, Slut Shaming, Toxic Relationship (full list on AO3)

----

Seth’s lounging in his personal dressing room backstage, scrolling through his twitter feed, eating up the reactions to his appearance at the end of Smackdown tonight.

He’s still in the tight red leather pants, his legs kicked up on the edge of the couch when there comes a loud demanding knock at the door.

“Go away asshole!” He yells distractedly over his shoulder, uncaring for whoever might be trying to disturb his peace at this time of night. Anybody he gives a shit about has already headed out, and he’s not far behind himself.

The knocks stop and Seth thinks he’s in the clear, but the door busts open with a loud bang, and Seth’s on his feet ready for a fight until he gets a good look at the figure standing in the doorway.

Dean Ambrose, eyes wild and angry and staring holes into Seth’s face.

Seth’s heartbeat roars in his ears as a tidal wave of emotion rolls over him. Excitement, relief, guilt, love, anger from all the years of their tumultuous relationship. Seth will never be free of Dean Ambrose and if he’s being honest with himself, he doesn’t really want to be.

“Dean…” Seth barely breathes his name before he’s storming into the room, slamming the door shut before his hands are at Seth’s throat, pushing him back against the wall roughly.

The sound that escapes his throat is breathy and pathetic, Seth would be ashamed of himself if not for the growing pressure against his windpipe that mirrors the swell of his dick in his pants.

“The fuck you think you’ve been doin’ huh pretty boy?” His breath is hot against Seth’s cheek, and lingering smell of cigarette smoke clouds his senses. “You forget who you belong to? You think I wouldn’t notice you’ve been whoring around?”

Seth shakes his head as best he can with Dean’s hands restricting his movement. “N-no, no-“

“Liar,” Dean licks the sweat from Seth’s brow. “Partnering with Cody Rhodes, runnin’ around actin’ like his little bitch, like you won’t turn on him the second it’s convenient for you.”

“Dean, please-“ He’s fully hard and aching and unsure what he’s even begging for at this point.

His free hand grabs at Seth’s face, roughly squeezing his cheeks. “Doesn’t Rhodes know by now that sluts like you are only good for a warm hole to fuck? How many times have you taken his cock princess?”

Seth’s instinct is to lie and deny everything, but no way that Dean wouldn’t know, and the punishment for lying would be brutal. The three small scars on his ribs, perfect circles the size of a Marlboro serve as a reminder of what good it does lying to Dean Ambrose.

“Ahh, Twice…just twice,” His vision is getting fuzzy and it hurts to speak, and he gasps loudly as finally Dean releases his iron hold on Seth’s throat.

His relief does not last long though.

The hand that had been clutching his throat moves south quickly, tearing at the waistband of his leather pants until they’re down around his knees, freeing his achingly hard dick but keeping him from any kind of escape he might attempt. As if he’d even try.

Satisfied with his work, Dean’s fingers find his hole with expert precision and press inside unforgivingly, wringing a pained moan out of Seth.

It’s the kind of pain Dean knows he craves, the same burning ache that settles into his muscles after a 30 minute match, the kind of pain that leaves him sore but satisfied the next day.

“Tight as usual,” Seth can feel the deep growl of Dean’s voice. “Not surprised, I’ve heard all about that pathetic cock of Cody’s. Figures that you’re such a filthy slut you’ll take any dick you can get. He couldn’t satisfy you, could he sweetheart? I bet you couldn’t even feel that tiny cock inside you, but you moaned like a 2 dollar whore anyway to make him feel good about himself.”

The sting of the truth of Dean’s words hurts more than the fingers roughly exploring his ass.

One grazes against his prostate and Seth cries at how dirty wrong good it feels, his cock weeping precum despite being neglected thus far.

“Please,” he weeps, hair falling into his face and sticking to the salty damp tear tracks. “Oh god, please-“

A third finger works its way inside him.

“You wanna hear a little story? I saw your boy on the way in here.” As the fingers in his ass flex and stretch, Dean’s other hand wraps into the hair at the base of his neck. “You may have got between him and the Big Dog earlier, but we both know Roman doesn’t have the imagination that I do. Gonna be a little difficult for him to finish the story now, but we both know you never gave a fuck about that.”

The continued assault on his prostate has him dangerously close to the edge despite himself, his breath coming in harsh pants as his thoughts fill with all the terrible things Dean could have done to his tag partner. He shuts his eyes tightly, banishing the thoughts of Cody covered in blood from his mind and focuses on the sensations wracking through his body, chasing pleasure and release.

With no warning his hole is empty and his hair is pulled. Seth gasps, disoriented and clenching down on nothing.

He’s shoved unceremoniously over the back of the couch he’d been lounging on earlier, bare ass exposed with his pants now fallen around his ankles. Dean’s fingers never leave Seth’s curls as he circles around, loudly unbuckling his belt and freeing his angry red cock. He’s close enough to Seth’s face that the sticky head smacks him in the cheek.

“You like that? Been a while since you’ve seen a real cock.” Dean guides his dick with one hand to smear precum on Seth’s lips like lipgloss. “You know what to do, your spit’s the only lube you're getting so you better do a good job.”

Seth opens his mouth and latches onto the head of Dean’s cock, suckling it for a moment before taking it further onto his tongue. He can’t help but moan at the unique taste of Dean that fills his senses as he moves his tongue along the prominent vein.

He believes Dean that this will be the only lube he’ll get, so he makes an effort to drool all along the thick length. The grip in his hair tightens, pulling Seth further down with no warning, and he has no choice but to take Dean’s dick into his throat, eyes burning with tears.

Just as his throat begins to relax and adjust to the intrusion there’s a knock at the door.

“Ey Uce! You need a ride outta here, or what?” Jey Uso’s voice comes through the door and Dean rolls his eyes before pulling Seth off his dick.

Seth coughs and sputters before answering, “Nah, M’good man. Go- Go on without me.” He tries to keep his voice even and neutral despite the adrenaline running through him.

“You sure?” Of course he won’t let it be. Jey’s too nice for that.

“Yeah, I’ll catch ya later, uce.” Dean makes a face. Seth prays that it’s enough and that Jey won’t pry further.

There’s no sound for a moment, like Jey’s hesitating for some reason, until finally, “Alrigh’, if you sure. M’gonna go find Cody then. Later, Uce.”

Seth breathes a sigh of relief, but it doesn’t last long. Dean steps away from his face, keeping a tight grip in Seth’s hair, tugging painfully as he moves around the couch. His free hand moves down Seth’s waist and rubs at his exposed ass before giving it a sharp smack.

“Excellent job, princess. Shame all your slobber dried up during your performance.” Dean spits on his hole. “Don’t say I never did anythin’ for ya.”

It’s degrading and humiliating, but fuck if Seth doesn’t nearly cum at the wet feeling of Dean’s spit on his already aching hole.

Then he’s split open as Dean shoves his dick inside in one go, his hips smacking the swell of Seth’s cheeks. He howls as Dean grinds against him, rubbing Seth’s prostate in a delicious mix of pleasure and pain.

He’s open and raw, a ripe oyster cracked open for Dean’s pleasure, ready to be slurped up, devoured and savored. All thought leaves his mind as Dean pulls out and thrusts back in sharply, setting a punishing pace.

Dean’s tongue laves at the tattoo on his spine, biting and nipping at the meat of his back, hard enough to hurt but not bleed. He’s still holding onto Seth’s hair, using it as leverage as he pounds into him, while the other hand finds its way to Seth’s chest, pinching and tugging at his nipples.

Seth’s so close already, the tension in his stomach like a hot coil ready to burst. He unclenches his hand from the back of the couch, stiff from the death grip he’s been holding and tries to reach down towards his cock.

SMACK

He jumps from the shock of the stinging pain on his ass, and Dean’s fingers wrap around the hand he was going to use to try and come, yanking and twisting his arm painfully behind his back.

“You’ll come from my cock or not at all,” Dean growls.

Seth feels tears leaking from his eyes in frustration. Dean’s dick is hitting his prostate like a bullseye at each thrust, and it’s so much but not quite enough to send him shattering apart.

Dean yanks harder on his hair, his back bowing even further and his head twisting to one side at the angle, exposing one side of his throat. Then he’s there, his breath hot against the delicate skin of Seth’s throat.

“Is this what you thought about when Cody fucked you? Closed your eyes and pretended it was me filling you up right?”

Seth nods as best he can, whines escaping his lips with each breath in lieu of words.

“Well don’t worry, I’m here now baby. Gonna remind you,” Dean’s lips meet his skin. “Ro,” Another kiss. “Cody,” Another. “The whole locker room.” A quick dart of his tongue. “Fuck, the whole world, who you belong to.”

“Yours, yours, D-dean, fuck please-“ He’s babbling now more than anything else.

“Thats right, you’re mine.” It’s punctuated with a sharp bite to his earlobe at the end of another vicious unforgiving thrust, and Seth can only hold on as he hurtles over the edge.

He shoots his cum all over the back of the couch, shaking as his orgasm wracks through his body. Dean buries his cock inside him a few more times before shooting his own seed deep inside of Seth’s hole, adding to the sensations that wrack his body and marking him further.

Seth breathes hard as Dean finally pulls out, leaving him shaking and empty. Dean chuckles behind him as he tries to stand. “No wonder it was an easy slide,” He gestures to the streaks of blood that stain his softening cock.

His hole clenches painfully, he’s certainly going to be feeling this for days, but at least he’s gotten off easier than Cody. He makes it to standing, but his knees buckle beneath him, and he can’t even bring himself to try to catch his fall.

He’s accepting that he’s about to faceplant when Dean’s arms wrap around him, saving him from the impact and scooping him up. Seth grabs onto Dean’s neck to stabilize himself, but finds himself paralyzed by the way Dean’s looking at him.

Gone is the anger and fury that he saw earlier, that fed his rough treatment of Seth, replaced by a somewhat bashful look, as if he’s embarrassed now of his earlier behavior.

“You uhhh, good there?” Awkward as ever when it comes to communicating outside of the heat of the moment. Seth feels his chest swell with fondness, their bond may be absolutely bat shit crazy, but no one gets him like Dean and no one gets Dean like him.

He nods, grinning. “Yeah, M’good now-I got my big strong guy to keep me going.”

“Damn right! What you say we get outta here? Got a hotel room with a fluffy robe that’s got your name all over it sweetheart.”

Seth rolls his eyes, but doesn’t have any room to argue considering his current predicament. “Yeah, let’s get outta here.”

--- Thank you for reading!!! 💖💖

[cookiepie111]

Dumb

Killer x (black) fem reader

A/N: Everyone say thank you to @doubleohsandwich cause if they didn't send me to more killer fic, this wouldn't have happened! I don't know what went through me when I wrote this, but damn enjoy! Feedback and reblogs are appreciated!

Warning: NSFW, overstimulation, fem black reader

It was only some teasing, just something to make him blush under his mask.

" Lol I want you to overstimulate me hahha " "okay but you have to ask properly" huh no way he took that so seriously. " I was only joking.

" were you?" He questioned. your breath stopped.... "well when you're ready to ask properly let me know" after that he left the room 'hmmm how embarrassing' The next night you stood infront of him nervously shifting from leg to leg "mhhh can you please overstimulate me " you couldn't bare to look him in the eyes "no" he flaty replied "ah! Why I asked you properly this time!"

"No you didn't" squeezing your face between his thumb and index finger "Ask. Me. Properly" ah now you really couldn't breath, throat feeling thight. Why where you feeling so hot and bothered by this... Shifting back trying to rub your leggs together, killer took note of this sighing and squeezing your face to again to remind you. He went back to the chair after a bit of silence but you couldn't help it your brain was wracking through what happened and how this man could destroy you if he wanted, he wasn't usually like this... this makes it even better. Approaching him slowly you climbing into his lap, rubbing into his chest, looking up at him through your lashes pouting "Hmm please killer I really need you to overstimulate me" your eyes didn't leave his this time. His breath hitched, to have you pleading for such a thing with an innocent look on your face so confidently .... it made his cock twitch in excitement. he let out a shaky breath, he couldn't get all excited now, the main event hadn't event started.

Killer had you folded in on yourself legs reaching your chest, a new position he had found for you tonight. Now you could feel his dick in stomach and he was doing exactly what you asked of him. He'd made you cum 3 times now. Twice with his fingers and once with his dick .

"ggh.. hhh. Kil" you couldn't even form a sentence at this point. Your babbling drowned out by the wet slapping sounds of your skin meeting. Not that your complaining would have mattered, nothing could have stopped the brutal pace killer had on you now. Each thrust was drilling you further into the mattress, he couldn't stop, he had to get more cries out of you or how else would he know if he'd fulfilled your request, he needed to make sure you were thoroughly fucked out of your mind. You felt light headed, brain fuzzy, mouth open, all sense gone. The pressure from his body over you was a reminder, that it wasn't over yet, that you couldn't pass out just yet. It was the only thing keeping you grounded. "Ahhh!" you felt so good around his dick. were you still that hungry for his dick? He thought. You kept sucking him in. Killer was playing a dangerous game even with all that you still had so much left to give. You're were driving him crazy, you still won't let up, gripping him tightly,causing him to delve deeper in your velvet walls, what a terrible cycle the both of you were in. The more you'd clench the deeper he'd wanted to go. But you were about to give, each breath you took was short and heavy, your legs were starting to give out. "not yet baby, wait a little for me okay" killer spoke so close to your ear, words pouring straight through your brain. Tears were already decorating your cheeks, eyes rolling back. Killer pulled back moving his hands under your thighs pushing them further, he needed to be deeper in you, he lean down licking up your tears .Pollowing into you with sure a pace, you squeezed hard on his cook ripping a groan from him, your mouth hung open but no words would come out, all you were seeing was white, your nails digging deep into killers skin leaving trails of red behind. The hot feeling at your core finally burst. Squirting. Killer couldn't quite register what happened fast enough, after he'd cum. Looking down to where the two of you met, his stomach was wet

oh you were totally fucked dumb

[icallhimjoey]

can you write a Joe and reader where she has a bad migraine and he takes care of her?? Love your writing!!!

baaaaabe ive experienced a migraine but ONCE in my life, so... thats all the reference ive got... all right, here ya go! Wordcount: 1.4K

---

Warmth, Comfort, Darkness, Silence

You weren’t scared of flying – there honestly wasn’t any real fear there, is what you kept telling yourself. But saying you were relaxed and didn’t have your mind whirling at absolute top speed would be lying. Joe knew and had been holding onto your sweaty palms any second he had been able to.

You were glad you didn’t have to travel alone this time and were even happier that you’d managed to last minute get seats together with Joe. You hadn’t been expecting to – you’d already accepted that you’d be on opposite ends of the plane since you booked so very last minute.

Your plan had been to just sleep throughout the full 9 hours, and you’d hoped you could doze off before take-off just to omit the full thing entirely.  

Squeezed into your isle seat, you couldn’t stop fidgeting with your fingers. Joe squeezed a hand in between your sweaty ones. “Try to relax,” he smiled. Of course, there was not a hint of nerves in Joe’s system. He’d been on way more flights than you, but even when you were younger and you had the same amount of in-flight-experience, Joe always looked like he was simply sat on the bus – so very casually relaxed, it almost angered you that he didn’t take flying a little more seriously.

The headache you’d been feeling since this morning certainly didn’t help, and the prospects of being in a pressurized cabin for hours without escape added onto your discomfort. When you reached for your bottle of water to take another ibuprofen, Joe stopped you.

“Can I try something?”

Joe reached, hesitated, but when you didn’t stop him, he continued to place his palm over your forehead. The bottom of it, the part just above his wrist, was placed just above the bridge of your nose. He brought his other hand up to the back of your head, and just when you were about to ask what the fuck Joe was doing, he started applying pressure. The strength applied to your forehead was strong, and you realized the hand in your hair was just there for leverage. To keep you in place. And then you felt it, as if by magic the pressure inside your skull that had been plaguing you since that morning vanished. It just…slipped down your body, like water would cascade down your frame in the shower. You kept your eyes closed, and upon the relief, you fully relaxed into Joe’s hands. Joe felt it and smirked slightly. He held onto you for a little longer before very slowly lessening the pressure, until eventually completely letting go.

“Better?”

You blinked up at him, awestruck.

“What kind of crazy voodoo did you just use on me?”

“Voodoo mum used to apply to me when I was little. Always worked. Something to do with pressure points, I don’t know.”

It helped immensely, and it had helped you stay mellow through take-off. But with the altitude changing rapidly, you had also felt your headache creep back in slowly, the pressure inside your skull doing an absolute number on its hollow cavities. It was a dull ache that you could feel behind your eyes and slowly spread towards your ears. Your ears that desperately needed to be popped, but no matter how many sips of water you took, just didn’t seem to want to. They left you with muffled hearing.

It was about an hour in that you started noticing your vision going.

“Oh no,” you said, your voice muted by the loud engines of the plane. Joe was watching a film and had his headphones on, so he hadn’t heard you. You focused and tried to see what you couldn’t – the outside edges of your vision seemed to have gone. Slightly fuzzy there too.

You grabbed Joe’s arm, slightly panicked and with way too strong of a grip for Joe to ignore you.

When he saw your wide eyes, darting to see where your peripheral vision started and trying to remember what you were used to, he took off his headphones and sat up, grabbing both your hands.

“What’s wrong?”

“Migraine. It’s a migraine attack.” You felt your fingers start to tingle, confirming that you were right. But you were on a plane. Surrounded by other people. With no possible way out.

“Shit,” Joe cursed, entirely unaware of how to help. He’d been with you through quite a few of your migraines, and what always seemed to help best was for you to climb on top of him in the bed, your head snuggly tucked into the crevice of his neck underneath his chin, body engulfed by covers, be in complete darkness, and have Joe hug you tightly and keep quiet. You would sink into him and endure the feeling of your eyes trying to escape your skull whilst trying your best to focus on Joe’s heartbeat to distract you from it all until you’d fall asleep. Warmth, comfort, darkness, and silence. Four things impossible to give to you on a cramped and crowded commercial airplane with the airconditioning blaring somewhere high above the Atlantic.

“Water. Do you need water? Excuse me, can we get some water?” Joe asked a flight attendant that whizzed past. She didn’t hear him. You hadn’t even said you wanted water, but Joe was already up out of his seat, awkwardly climbed over you and followed the flight attendant to the back of the plane.

The passenger on the other side of Joe that was in the window seat made eye contact with you. They were blurry to you which you knew logically they shouldn’t be. They reached over for you and turned off your overhead light, as well as the one above themselves and then they slid their window blind down. “Thank you,” you muttered, unable to tell if they could even hear you.

When Joe returned with two water bottles, he motioned for you to move over into his chair, and as you did, he put the water bottles in your seat and reached up to get something from your luggage. A flight attendant made their way over to help Joe. You weren’t able to follow their hushed conversation at all, but she seemed very strict, and Joe seemed very apologetic until he became frustrated.

“She’s got an upcoming migraine and nowhere to go,”

“I’m sorry sir, there’s no other seats available, we’re fully booked.”

You checked behind her and saw another flight attendant waiting, waiting for Joe to get out of the way. You reached to pull him into your seat, but Joe pulled down his hand-luggage from the overhead storage and plonked it into your seat as well. It prompted the flight attendant to close the bin above you right after, and she told Joe to store the suitcase under the seat in front of him.

“That was rude,” Joe muttered. It hadn’t been rude, she’d just done her job, but she hadn’t been helpful which annoyed him. Joe’d gotten two of his sweaters out of his luggage and passed them to you. You didn’t know what you were going to be doing with two of his sweaters, but Joe looked like a man with a plan.

“There’s an eye mask… eye mask, front pocket somewhere,” you felt nausea creeping in fast.

After storing the trolley where he was told to do so, he switched the sweaters and the eye mask in your hands with a water bottle and instructed you to drink. “Lots. Just, down it.” So, you did.

“You’re going to have to go to sleep, and it’s not going to be an easy task. Put this on,” Joe pulled one of his sweaters over your head, his touch entirely too careful around the collar in fear of doing you more harm than good, and you apologized to your new neighbour when you tried to get your arms in. Warmth.

Joe started rolling up the other sweater and fashioned it into a neck pillow for you. Comfort.

“Lean forward,”

You did as you were told, terrified but immensely comforted by the care Joe showed for you as he softly wrapped it around your neck and then fit the eye mask around your head. Darkness.

“I’d make you sit on my lap if there was enough room,” Joe said, entirely too loud into your ear even though his voice sounded far away. You just needed him close to you and quiet – not a peep from him. He took one of your sweaty palms into his fist and you tried to get as comfortable in your seat as you could, resting your pounding head against Joe’s shoulder. “I’ll shut up.” Joe read your mind. Silence.

---

The Taglisted: @kiwisa @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @alana4610 @emmamooney @xomunson @sadbitchfangirl @jssmth5 @bagelofthelord67 @nobody-000 @lluviamg06 @thatonefan-girl @kylakins88 - add yourself

[myarlert]

sigh. (afab!reader.)

imagine the knots in your body formed from all the stress that you carry. you're exhausted, all the buisness predicaments that you face each week seem to send your head into a whirlwind of pressure and anxiety. so it's a great blessing that you have a darling lover who waits for your arrival back at your shared abode.

you're laying on your tummy, the feeling of zhongli's large hands massaging all your pressure points, him spreading essential oil all over your body causes you to sigh in relief into the pillows.

the glaze lily aroma and the natural scent of zhongli was unfortunately sending you into a frenzy. it makes your head fuzzy, you need him to do something more.

the former archon is straddled over your behind, pressing the heel his palms into your hips. the feeling reminds your of something else—it reminds you of how zhongli likes to grope your hips as his tongue sensually laps at your swollen clit. both the memory and his movements make you whine outloud before you can stop yourself.

he halts.

zhongli is torn. he doesn't know if where he's touching hurts or if..

he decides to test both theories, doing the same digging motion with his calloused hands. you whine, but it seems to be needier.

"hmm.." you hear his low voice reverberate behind you. "perhaps my dear needs some..other form of relief?" he queries, more to himself.

of course you'd say yes.

your face is still in the pillows, but this time you use it to muffle the embarrassing noises you create as your lover devours your cunt from the behind. you're face down, ass up while zhongli uses his gloves hands to spread your ass cheeks apart, enamoured by the way your hole puckers and glistens; your arousal dripping onto the sheets below.

he sighs, and then let's out a deep chuckle that has your stomach churning. "it would seem that this is what you needed all along..why must you hide such things from me, my love?"

he doesn't wait for your response and slurps at your clit, him moaning and groaning into your pussy. your jaw goes slack when he prods his tongue into your hole, giving your oiled up ass a good squeeze.

"zhongli." you mewl when you wiggle your ass into his face, beginning to chase your orgasm. your whines and high-pitched moans spur him on, spitting on your asshole as he watched it slide along your slit.

you're so close and you feel like you don't have enough time to warn him as you full on rock your hips back, shoving your cunt back even further. though, it seems that he disapproves, because he tsks and uses his inhumane strength to render you completely still. "keep still now." hes warning you, and through your lusted haze you know better than to test him and his patience.

he eats you out fervently, seemingly set on the intention of making you cream all on his face. gripping your behind to keep him grounded, he hears your pleas, he hears your curses and it clogs his mind. let go is all he says before you cream on his tongue, your back arching while your pretty eyes seek refuge into the depths of your skull.

you attempt to recover from your much-needed orgasm as you feel his big hands petting at your hair, humming at the affection.

"hope you feel better now."

THIS IS TOO LONG GODDAMN.

I AM SITTING SO HARD RN HELPPP THIS IS FUCKING GOLDEN !!!!!

[aemonds-sapphire]

Coffee Run - Hawks x Reader (Smut)

Summary: Hawks simply wanted to enjoy his coffee in peace, but you had needs of your own, especially knowing he was entering his rut. You know what they say... be careful with what you wish for, because you just might get it.

Warnings: NSFW. Rut!Hawks. Feral Hawks. Public sex. Breeding kink. Pregnancy kink. Lactation kink (brief mention). Featherplay. Slight overstimulation.

Word count: 3.7k

Hawks was nearing his rut. That much was clear. Keeping up an easy going appearance was what he excelled at, until he hit that particular time of the year. Until he was forced to take that medication that would suppress his primal instinct to breed.

But rarely anything in this world came without bearing unpleasant consequences.

“I’ll just have the usual. Thanks.”

The young waitress then turned to you expectantly. “And you, miss?”

You pondered for a second as you eyed the pro hero sitting in front of you. To anyone oblivious to the changes occurring in his body they might think he was just not a morning person.

An idea popped in your mind all of a sudden.

“I’ll have a strawberry lollipop,” you finally said, causing Hawks to briefly lift his eyes from the phone in his hand. “What? I have a sweet tooth.”

The waitress nodded and walked away. He was still glaring at you, one fuzzy eyebrow slightly arched.

“Just that? It’s not a proper breakfast.”

“Neither is coffee, yet here we are.”

He shrugged at your response, shifting his attention back to his phone.

Coffee was his personal mood booster. It was dangerous to demand anything from a rutting Hawks until he had drunk an unhealthy amount of it.

The sun was barely out, and that was exactly why he’d choose this café. Only a few people would be there, which meant he wouldn’t have to deal with loud fans walking up to him and asking for selfies or autographs... or even hugs. It was perfect to hide from everyone how moody and snappy he could get in times like these.

But you figured he still wasn’t taking the medication. He always dreaded it because of how groggy and lethargic it’d leave him.

“You okay?”

He had his index finger flicking up and down on the screen. “Sure.”

But what Hawks didn’t know was that... well... you knew what why he was acting so unlike him.

Soon after, the waitress came back with a large cup of coffee and your lollipop that you promptly snatched from the tray with a smile.

Hawks mumbled a quick ‘thanks’ and you watched him take a few gulps of the hot beverage, while you removed the wrapping.

He sighed in pure relief as his huge wings vibrated from the instant pleasure. “I really needed this.”

You also reckoned he needed something else.

Sliding the round candy in your mouth, you propped your chin on interlaced fingers, regarding him quizzically.

“Is that all you need?”

The apparent innocent question had his golden eyes meet yours. However, you needed them to travel south, so you parted your lips seductively and dangled the lollipop from one corner of your mouth to the other with your tongue.

Bingo.

Hawks’ eyes dropped to your mouth in an instant, taking in the sight of you skilfully twirling the stick while letting out some lewd wet sounds.

“Stop it.”

“Stop what? I love sucking...” you said innocently.

The cup in his hand cracked lightly from his tight grip, and a faint frown settled on his beautiful face.

“You sure you okay?”

For someone who was able to maintain an wavering smile not matter the circumstances, Hawks really was falling behind his reputation. Maybe it wasn’t wise for you to keep pushing him like this. All the innuendos and teasing would eventually get him to snap.

You kept on sucking and licking the hard candy happily, eyeing your boyfriend with utmost interest.

He took another sip of his hot coffee, and you noticed his pupils were slightly dilated. Undoubtedly, the visual of you sucking on something was a enough to spark his arousal.

“Hmm... this tastes so good...” you moaned softly, fluttering your eyes shut for a brief moment. “Want to taste it?”

When he didn’t reply, you decided to take it up a notch. You kicked off your shoe and moved it to touch his leg.

He arched an eyebrow.

Slowly, you began sliding it up his leg and only stopped once you’d reached his inner thigh.

“Stop...”

You let the round candy caress your bottom lip, making sure he could see strings of your saliva sliding down to coat your tongue. Mustering a bit more courage, you dragged your feet until it reached his crotch.

Hawks was hard as a rock.

“You’re so warm...” you whispered, rubbing your foot against his cock.

You could tell he was about to snap.

“Hawks? Honey, look! It’s Hawks!”

You quickly turned your head to look at a young couple that was approaching your table. It couldn’t be avoided. Even in the early hours there would always be someone who was a fan of Hawks.

Hawks was forced to regain his composure, and you figure it was taking every single fibre in his body to produce his trademark unwavering grin.

The woman seemed a little hesitant at first. “Are we interrupting something? I’m so sorry... we are big fans.”

“You are such an inspiration to us,” the man added with excitement.

“Thank you!” Hawks beamed, his beautiful features never betraying what was going on under the table. “Want an autograph?”

She quickly nodded, rummaging through her purse to get a pen. “Our baby will love you, too. We’ll make sure of that.”

Hawks visibly swallowed. “Baby?”

“Yes! We found out we’re going to be parents last week.”

You side-eyed him closely. Inwardly, you started cackling in delight, knowing far too well this was one of Hawks’ most intimate triggers. It was far too obvious that being in his rut made it all much worse for him

“Congratulations! How is everything going?” you inquired sweetly, applying gentle pressure on his covered erection with your toes.

He shifted in his seat, doing his best to cope with the sudden stimulation coming from you.

The woman seemed taken aback by your kindness and quickly bowed her head while handing the pen to Hawks.

“Oh, the morning sickness can be quite draining, but otherwise I can’t complain.”

Her partner handed Hawks a copy of a magazine that had him on the cover. He blushed awkwardly. “She keeps it in her purse in case we run into you so we can get an autograph.”

“That’s awesome,” he said genuinely, his voice slightly strained as he drew his signature on it. “Thanks for the support.”

The couple retrieved the magazine and bowed to both of you before walking away.

“That is so cool...” you said, twirling the lollipop stick in between your thumb and index finger. “I wonder what it feels like being pregnant.”

Hawks moved your foot away from his crotch. “Bathroom. Now.”

Your mouth fell open at his sudden outburst, sliding your foot back into your shoe. “Why?”

He rose to his full height as his red wings quivered slightly. “I’m done with you.”

Placing the hard candy back on its wrapping, you gulped as you followed his lead. The café had started to get more clients, and some of them shot a few glares at the winged hero.

The waitress was eyeing both of you. “Is everything okay?”

Hawks shot a brief smile. “She’s not feeling well.”

He certainly had a way to have things go his way.

She looked at yo worriedly. “Should I get help?”

Hawks hurried you into the bathroom, before adding. “She’s with the number two pro hero. I’m all the help she needs.”

Point taken.

Hawks pulled you into a small cubicle, shutting the door with a kick. You heard the lock rattle and you took the opportunity turn around to face him. His massive wings struggled to fit inside the confined space, which caused him to look more menacing as they coiled up against his body.

“You’re rutting.”

His pupils were fully blown and you briefly saw something flash in his eyes. “Of course you know.”

“I know a lot of things,” you cooed, dragging down one hand to squeeze him through his pants. “You’re not taking your medication.”

You’d been dating Hawks for a few months now, and you found out that he went through a rut every year by mere chance. It didn’t take long for you to connect the dots after hearing a phone conversation between him and someone from the commission — you assumed it was a doctor —, who insisted that Hawks had to take the hormonal suppressant medication to lessen the effects, allowing him to function properly.

“I don’t fucking need it,” he snarled at you through gritted teeth.

“I think you do... if you’re so willing to fuck me in a public bathroom,” you whispered seductively, giving his cock a gentle squeeze. “I wonder what made you snap... was it the conversation about pregnancy... or—“

Hawks had had enough of your running your mouth, and with little effort on his part, he flipped you over so that you were now pressed against the bathroom sink, a tall mirror capturing your surprised expression along with his feral one.

“No, little bird...” he growled, hooking his gloved fingers in the belt loops of your pants. “I am not gonna fuck you. I’m gonna breed you.”

It was a dark promise, and one you knew he could keep. After all, that was the purpose of a rut: to breed. Every single cell in his body was prepared for this, and you couldn’t bring yourself to pretend this sudden shift in Hawks’ demeanor didn’t make your pussy clench.

Your hands were supporting your weight by gripping the edge of the cold material of the sink, and you tentatively leaned forward in an attempt to brush against his crotch.

Hawks slid one hand to your front, effectively undoing your pants. “You’re ovulating... fuck...”

That caught by surprise. “What...”

He shifted his body on top of yours, so he could nuzzle your neck, capturing your scent.

“I can smell it... fuck...fuck... you need to be bred...”

In one swift motion, he yanked your pants down. Hawks was usually so much more gentle with you during sex; this was definitely something unexpected, but that you couldn’t stop yourself from yearning.

On the other hand, you considered his words for a moment. Did he really mean it? Did he really want to knock you up, or was this just his hormones talking?

Either way, this was turning you on beyond belief, and you decided to egg him on.

“You want to breed me?”

He was nipping at your neck, causing a few of his moans to be heard. You could feel the hard print of his cock pressed against the curve of your ass, and as you bucked your hips instinctively you felt his own meet you halfway, setting a slow rhythm.

“I need to knock you up... I need you tummy all swollen with my baby,” the young man kept mumbling more to himself than to you, but you couldn’t get enough of it. “I need your... your...”

A gush of wetness leaked out of your pussy as you felt him fumbling with his belt. Through the reflection in the mirror, you could see a faint blush settling on his face, increasing his handsomeness by a tenfold — you didn’t even know how that was possible.

“My what...” your voice came out in a low mewl, keeping your hips swaying at a steady pace.

Hawks undid his pants at once, and gave your ass cheeks a few slaps with his leaking cock.

He gripped your hip tightly. “Let me see your tits...”

You kept yourself balance on one hand as the other dragged the fabric of your shirt up, rolling it just above your breasts. Hawks released his cock, bringing his hips forward to have it slide between your round cheeks; you could start to feel the wetness coating your skin and standing your panties as he kept humping you. His free hand moved to grasp your bra, jerking the material down and finally exposing your hardening nipples.

Hawks heaved a deep breath, resting his chin on your shoulder as he looked at your body through the mirror.

“Can’t wait until they get bigger... full of milk... leaking for me...” he brushed his gloved thumb across your sensitive nipple, causing it to harden even more. “I bet it will taste so good... so sweet... you know I love sweet things.”

Your mind was going blank from all the pleasure being delivered to you at once. From his cock slowly fucking your ass cheeks all the way to the way he was glaring at you through some public bathroom mirror while spitting out the filthiest things you had ever heard him utter.

He snapped his hips hard for a split second, almost causing you to lose balance, forcing you to grip the sink with both hands, eyes still fixed on the way your breasts bounced softly along with each shove from him.

Slowly, he dragged his hand to your lower abdomen, massaging it with spread fingers. “Fuck... I need to feel it getting swollen... gonna knock you up so good.”

Streaks of precum were sliding down your cheeks, leaving wet trails behind and sending jolts of pleasure running down your spine.

“Sorry, but I’m gonna make you cum fast,” he suddenly said.

You weren’t really sure why he was apologizing for that, or even how he intended to achieve such feat. Hawks was more than capable of pleasuring women, but even the most skilled man certainly had his limitations when it came to how fast they could make a woman reach her high.

Even so, apologizing for giving someone an orgasm probably ranked up high with the likes of “Sorry, but I’m going to give you a new house” or “Sorry, but I’m going to give you an unlimited supply of money”. Out of all the things he could feel sorry for — like desperately banging you in some public bathroom, for example—, that one should be the least of his concerns.

As if reading the skepticism splattered across your face, he gave you a knowing smile, and before you could even wonder what he meant by that you felt something poking your covered clit.

What the...

“Hawks!”

You didn’t expect desperate Hawks to play fair, but this was on another level. The fabric covering your soaked pussy was being pulled to the side, and in no time a velvety object started proving your pulsing clit.

He was using his feathers.

Now you knew what he meant by making you cum fast, the bastard. The sensation was overwhelming, and you vaguely wondered why he had never tried this before.

“Shh... I need you to cum first, so I can have your pussy milking my cock,” he pressed a kiss on your neck. “Be a good girl and keep your voice down.”

With one hand still caressing your tummy and the other squeezing one breasts softly, you tried hard to bite back your moans as his feather kept stroking your clit as he commanded.

You started panting heavily, drunk in pleasure. “I... I... Hawks...”

Seeing that you weren’t going to be able to keep quiet, he brought the hand on your breast to clamp it over your mouth.

“You’re so ready for me... I can feel the vibrations through my feather... you’re throbbing so much for me, baby...”

And it was the absolute truth. Your were absolutely sure his feather was already drenched in your juices, but you didn’t care at all. A few more flicks and strokes sent your hips into auto-pilot, trying to get more friction.

Long and drawn out moans erupted from your throat only to be muffled by his gloved hand.

You could feel something in your core swirling and shifting and through the haze of passion, you could tell it was the tension building up inside you that was reaching a dangerous peak.

“Good girl... t-that’s my girl... getting ready for me to breed her...”

His dirty talk served as the perfect incentive for you to get closer and closer to the edge. You saw your vision begin to tunnel and suddenly you fell headfirst into the explosion of pleasure that had your arms and legs shake violently, and you thanked the heavens that Hawks’ body was pressed against yours, or you’d have sunk to your feet.

But before your pussy could stop contracting around nothing, you felt your body being pushed forward and in one quick slide, his cock was buried deep inside you.

Hawks’ hips faltered for a second as he adjusted to your tightness. “Fuck!”

The feather brushing your clit stopped its ministrations, and as your field of vision started clearing, you saw it hovering in front of your face. It was completely covered in your juices and a few droplets dripped onto the sink. His hand fell to grip your hip, and your lips immediately parted in a silent scream as overstimulation took over.

“Keep it open... lick... lick it...” he groaned, his voice strained and shaky as his cock endured your contractions.

You extended your tongue out, allowing is feather to drag along it, pooling your wetness on your tongue.

Hawks’ reflection shivered before your eyes at the newfound source of pleasure. “F-fuuuck... just like that...”

His wings fluttered as so did the feather stroking your muscle, and even though your orgasm had already subsided, the never ending stimulation from his thick cock hitting deep inside you was just too much.

“I’m gonna lose it! Fuck!” he nearly cried out, ad you could only pray that no one could hear him outside.

Your knees bucked weakly as he snapped his hips into you once, twice and again closing in on his own release, but the moment you ran your tongue over the sensitive extension of his body you knew he was done for. He bucked up to meet your hips in an especially sharp thrust and you could feel the hot gush of his cum deep inside you, coating your trembling walls, mixing with your own juices.

He hadn’t lasted long, but you weren’t at all surprised, considering how much the vast array of different stimuli that he was subjected to in such a sort amount of time.

A few seconds ticked by, and he finally began pulling out, you pussy reflexively clamping around him as if to make him stay.

“Stop clenching like that before I get hard again...” he warned, giving your ass a soft smack as he slid out completely with a loud slurping sound.

You whimpered softly as emptiness filled you instead. As you were about to straighten yourself, you felt a blob of cum threading to spill, and Hawks promptly kept you leaning forward.

“I didn’t just fill you with a big load for you to waste it all,” and with that, he dragged the tip of his cock along your leaking pussy and pushed it back inside. “There you go... all stuffed again.”

The head of his cock didn’t stay inside you for long, and once he slid out you reached for paper from the dispenser hanging on the wall.

He grabbed your arm. “No.”

“I need to clean myself...”

“No, you don’t,” Hawks whispered sweetly into your ear, and you felt him tug at your panties before letting the fabric slap your over sensitive clit. “You’re gonna be a good girl and keep it all in.”

Your eyes widened in shock. Certainly, he didn’t mean that....

“Hawks... I can’t walk around with your cum dripping from me,” you stated as a matter of fact.

You saw his reflection in the mirror; he had a devious smile dancing on his lips, making your insides coil in sudden realization.

“Didn’t you want me to breed you? Then keep my cum inside your tight pussy,” he began, planting soft caring kisses on the side of your neck in between. “Think you can do that for me, beautiful?”

Feeling your panties sticking to your swollen lips with the aftermath of both your juices and drops of his cum made a shiver run down you entire body.

You nodded once.

Suddenly, he bent over slightly to grasp the waistband of your pants, quickly dragging them up your thighs.

“Time to go,” he huffed as one of his gloved hands brushed along his unruly golden locks of hair. “This was just meant to be a quick coffee run.”

There was a faint smudge of pink crossing his nose and resting on both his cheeks. He looked positively less tense, with his blush being the only indicator that he had just emptied his balls deep inside you.

He unlocked the door and exited first, but not before shooting his Hawks-like smile at you. “I’ll be going ahead to pay and deal with the fans.”

You chuckled as the door closed, and turned to look at your reflection in the mirror while adjusting your clothes. “Well... don’t look at me like that. He’s impossible to resist, especially like this...”

After you were done washing your hands, you took a few steps immediately feeling a few drops of cum dripping onto your panties. You clenched your pussy hard in the hopes of preventing more from spilling.

This was not going to end well.

Taking a deep breath, you walked out and were met with the waitress. “Oh! Are you alright now?”

Yeah, I just got fucked hard and I have cum leaking from me. “Yes! Thank you, and sorry for leaving like that... I really wasn’t feeling well.”

She nodded in understanding, stepping aside to let you walk into the lobby only to see a loud commotion of people piling up around something. Big massive turfs of scarlet feathers quickly gave it away and you smiled fondly.

Hawks.

A few girls standing nearby were giggling to each other, catching your attention.

“Oh my... he’s so much more handsome up close,” one said with a dreamy sigh.

“His wings are so pretty...” the other murmured.

Yes. Hawks had that effect on nearly everyone he crossed paths with. In one way or another, people had the tendency to fall fo him and be drawn by his quirky personality. Even if at the end of the day, once he got home, you could see the wearing effects of having to keep up with this society’s standards.

As the crowd began to disperse, he waved a hand at you.

“It was so nice to have you here, Hawks,” the young waitress blurted out as you two made your exit. “Please come again!”

The number two pro hero bowed his head and gave her a thumbs up. “I’m sure I will. Very soon,” he winked at you.

Very poor choice of words.

-

Masterlist

[after-witch]

gimme smth horny w yandere shiggy. maybe some choking. who knows?

notes: NSFW/sex, yandere, kidnapped reader, noncon/dubcon, choking

The air, the room--the entire world around you is hot and oppressive. Hot with exertion and sweat and tears--your own tears, and his sweat, sprinkling your body now and then as he thrusts himself inside you, again and again.

Oppressive with control and possession, with the way your vision darkens every time his hands grip too tight for too long. With the way his body is so heavy above yours, and even if he hadn’t pinned your wrists above your head with his belt, you wouldn’t have the strength to push him away. 

He quickens his pace, surely near finishing now, only to slow himself down again and savor it. He wants to take his time with you, you can see it in his eyes, in the way his hands (at least they’re only his hands, you think, grateful) occasionally drift away from your neck to grope at your breasts, to pinch your sides, to stroke your cheek.

He wants to take in every part of you that he owns now, every part that he’s been dreaming and dreaming about. Now there’s nothing between you; no apartment door locks giving you the illusion of safety, no friends diverting your attention and love.

He licks your tears and his sweat off your face and the gesture is intimate and not intended to be menacing, you’re sure, but it’s hard to feel anything but bad intent when he just keeps choking you.

He won’t kill you. You tell yourself that. Moreover, he tells you that--the words register (“Stop squirming, I’m not going to kill you--this’ll make orgasms feel way fucking better, just wait”) just as he squeezes so roughly and for so long that there’s a high pitched humming in your head and your cheeks hurt and the world goes fuzzy and you’re sure, you’re absolutely sure, that he’s going to cross a point of no return and you’ll be the collateral damage.

Maybe he sees the danger in your blown out pupils or hears the whimpers that scratch themselves past his hands and out of your throat. Maybe he’s getting close to orgasm and loses his grip, distracted.

Either way, he relents and you take in great big sucking breaths, helpless and grateful. Tears leak out of your eyes; not pretty tears, glistening down your cheeks, but ugly, thick things that seem to have been squeezed out of your eyeballs like juice from a fruit.

Then he’s thrusting faster, and one hand goes back around your bruising throat, squeezing just enough to cut off your breath while the other jams itself awkwardly against your sex. A thumb finds your clit and rubs, harsh, and the jolting registers underneath the pressure around your throat.

It’s a quick thudding orgasm brought on by too much stimulation without enough foreplay; you can’t breathe, but the combined sensations shoot a delightful electricity up your spine as your lower body jerks and twitches against him.

And when he sees that you’re finished, the other hand latches itself around your throat, gripping harder, squeezing, and you understand the humming ringing now that it’s the second time. Your ears hurt and you watch him above you, staring at you, loving you, as his hips stutter to a stop. You can only just hear him groan, hear him saying your name, before he finally lets go of your throat.

This time you can’t bring yourself to feel grateful.

His face softens and he collapses on top of you, a heavy weight, sweaty hair and sweaty skin feeling sticky against your own. His cheek nuzzles your own and your chest heaves, painfully tight.

He’s right, though. It did feel better.

[erogenousmind]

Blushing Bride

No one ever talks about how tired you are on your wedding night. The day itself is long. Planning has been going for weeks or months, and the spikes of adrenaline throughout leave you depleted.

Angelica had been dragging as she and her groom departed the reception. She struggled to keep her eyes open as he drove them the short distance to where they were staying for the night. But as they parked, he placed his hand on her thigh and said, calm and soothing, “Soon, my love. Soon.”

Now as they approached the door to their room, she was reinvigorated. She hadn’t forgotten what was in store, not exactly. But there had been so much else on her mind, from seating charts to registries to catering to the actual moment she got to say, “I do!” that it had somehow been the furthest thing from her mind. But when he spoke to her, when he squeezed her thigh with just enough pressure to be reassuring and possessive, it clicked for her. She was his now. And in just a few minutes, they would make it official.

Angelica had found it endearing how traditional it felt. Circumstances were going to mostly keep them apart until the wedding, so despite the flurry of fun and games that had comprised their courtship, he had insisted they wait for him to claim her mind until after their were married. Instead he had given her assignments. Reading things he wrote for her. Listening to recordings he made for her.

She had laughed that it was like love notes and mix tapes and that they were in high school all over again. Although these had a distinctly more adult flair. And Angelica was so excited to be a good wife for him, to be exactly what he wanted, that she had been eager to follow every instruction.

She never really remembered what he had given her to read. She knew there had been numerous messenger exchanges and emails that she had poured over again and again, but the details had never stuck with her. The recordings had been much tamer. At first at least. They encouraged her to relax, to enjoy getting to listen to his voice. They taught her to feel calm when he was speaking to her, to recognize his intention and how she should respond based on what his cues told her he wanted. They helped make her receptive to him so that she could better serve him.

Then they started helping her fall asleep. She would listen to them before or in bed every night and his voice would help her feel so sleepy. They would allow her to imagine him their with her, holding her in his strong arms, whispering in her ear as her mind drifted away. They taught her that it was easy to switch off her thoughts for him. It was just another intonation of his voice, another way of speaking to her, another lesson for her to learn about what he desired from her. And she had never slept so deeply before in her life.

 At some point the recordings had changed, but Angelica couldn’t really tell when or how. They would start the same, as best she could remember (her mind switched off so quickly when he spoke to her like that, even the first few words were fuzzy in her memory), and she would drift off just like before, but she felt herself changing around them. She started dreaming more vividly. Dreams of him, of his touch, of his body, of his control. She noticed herself anticipating bedtime and getting to listen to words she never consciously remembered. She had slept in the nude occasionally before, but now it was every night. She would wake up needy or soaking wet or blissfully satisfied, her body acting of its own accord. She would find herself lost in fantastical daydreams about her married life, imagining her life as her husband’s slave, and what he might command her to do and how much she would enjoy it. And then after, she could never quite remember the fantasy. And more and more she was desperately ready for whatever would come once they were finally alone together. And tonight, they finally were.

He made a show of scooping Angelica into his arms and carrying her into their room, and she pulled herself tight to him, enjoying feeling so small and helpless. The tightness of the white bodice she still wore telling her it was real. He set her down again once they were inside, closed the door and turned to his new bride, taking one hand in his and gently caressing her face with the other. She looked up at him adoringly, eyes wide. She felt the weight of the day in her legs once more as they shook uneasily, waiting for whatever he wanted. He smiled at her, and spoke:

“Two souls with but a single thought; two hearts that beat as one.”

Angelica felt some sense of recollection. She had heard him say this before. But just as soon as that realization hit her, she felt her jaw drop and her eyes roll back into the top of her head. She shuddered as a wave of pleasure pulsed through her body. A low-pitched cry fell from her mouth. The shaking in her legs became more pronounced. And she froze in place, muscles tensed, motionless except for a rapid fluttering of her eyes.

After a few seconds, his wife’s body relaxed. Her eyes closed and a gentle smile came over his wife’s face. She didn’t need her name anymore, not now. She was his, and that was all that mattered. His wife’s eyes opened, locking with his. She sank down to her knees, the fabric of her wedding dress flowing around her.

“How can your wife serve you?” she asked.

The answer to that question would be her only concern that night and for the rest of their lives together

[katmoonz]

Pretty Girl Can Take It

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader

Word count: 2k

Includes: Rough sex, Dom!Remus, Sub!Reader, overstimulation, praise kink, orgasms, fingering, mention of squirting, slightest bit of crying, pet names, aftercare, smut, fluff

Do not post any of my work anywhere else!!! I’m fine with reblogs but not with people stealing my work. 

Notes: This took me so long to write, it was supposed to be just an aftercare fic but I got a bit carried away setting the scene and ended up with 90% smut, here’s the result...

“I'm gonna cum” you moan as your boyfriend Remus Lupin pounds into you roughly from behind.

You and Remus had been at it for a while and you'd cum twice already but he kept going overstimulating you, loving the way that it made you clench around his length whilst letting out loads of little gasps and moans.

Remus slows down and pulls you by the hair so that you are on your knees leaning back against him.

“Darling, you ask when you want to cum, you should know that by now” he grunts into your ear as he pauses in his thrusts.

“No, no, no, please don’t stop!” You whine.

“M’pretty baby is so needy for me, isn’t she? Ask nicely and I might give you what you want.” Remus says gruffly in your ear.

Remus starts kissing down the side of your neck leaving marks whilst grabbing one of your breasts in his hand. This makes your pussy throb and become even more wet.

“Please let me cum, I need to cum so bad it hurts” you moan with tears in your eyes.

Remus lets go of your hair and pushes on your back making you gasp as you resume your previous position on your hands and knees.

“Good girl,” he says, leaving one last kiss on your neck before he starts thrusting into you hard and fast, making tears fall down your face at the delicious mix of pain and pure pleasure he was giving you.

You can feel your orgasm building up and get even more desperate for relief.

As if sensing this, Remus brings a hand down and starts rubbing at your clit desperate to bring you pleasure, his cock hitting your g-spot with every thrust.

It’s so overwhelming that your hands give in and you end up resting on your forearms with your head buried into the pillow as Remus vigorously thrusts into you.

Finally, you fall over the precipice, your legs shaking as you let out a guttural moan. You feel so relieved as your pussy clenches around Remus’ cock.

You can feel Remus’ cock twitch as he releases inside of you, groaning into your ear, his cum warm as he loses himself in your pussy.

You feel so sensitive after three orgasms and want nothing more than to cuddle up with your gorgeous boyfriend but Remus has other plans as he quickly pulls out and flips you over onto your back.

You let out a high pitch whine as he shoves three fingers into your slick pussy and rubs at your still aching clitoris with his thumb.

“Too much” you whine pitifully.

“M’pretty girl can take it though can’t she?” replies Remus through gritted teeth, a droplet of sweat falls down his head as he focuses all of his strength on making you orgasm again.

“Pretty girl can take it” you repeat back. Your head is fuzzy from all of the pleasure and overstimulation.

Remus grins and rubs your clit in quick but effective circles. He works your clit to the point where you’re on the edge of cumming again.

“I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum.” you moan letting Remus know that you are almost there.

Remus suddenly stops rubbing your clit and slows down the fingers which he keeps within your throbbing pussy.

“Nooo” you whine “please don’t stop”

“You gonna be my good girl?” He asks with a twinkle in his eye.

“Yes! I’ll be your good girl”

Remus resumes his previous actions of thrusting his fingers into your pussy, putting all of the force from his forearm into each thrust.

Once again you feel your orgasm build up behind your navel as your legs start to twitch.

“Please” you moan out

Remus grins up at you, sweat dripping down his forehead. “Please what love?”

You look at him with tears pouring down your face “Please can I cum” you beg.

Remus keeps going for another few seconds before letting out a single sentence “Cum for me baby”

You let go and feel your entire body shake in pleasure as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

Remus stops rubbing your clit but keeps thrusting his fingers into your pussy.

You try to pull away but are met with a slap to your thigh.

“Hold still” he barks out.

“Too much, too much.” You whine out still sniffling.

“Just one more darlin, I promise,” he says with a slight frown upon his face from concentration.

Remus curls his fingers a bit more so that they brush off of your g-spot every time he thrusts them in.

You feel another orgasm building up inside of you but it feels slightly different.

“Oh” you moan as you feel sparks almost like electricity go through your body.

“Does that feel good love?” He says licking the sweat from his lip before increasing the pace again.

You nod in response to his question, your hands grabbing onto the bedsheets.

You can hear your pussy squelch as the pressure builds. The pleasure is almost too much to handle.

“Please” you beg again not sure of what you're asking for.

“Good girl, cum for me” he pants out as his thumb comes back to rub furiously at your clit.

This topples you over the edge for the last time, your eyes roll back and your vision goes white as your entire body shakes.

You squeal as your legs uncontrollably shake and your pussy contracts around Remus’ digits.

“Good girl”

As your orgasm fades away you start to feel the ache of overstimulation from Remus’ fingers which remain within your pussy. You whine and squirm trying to get away from the fingers, tears falling down your face.

“Shh it’s okay, we’re done now you did such a good job, my good girl.” Remus gently removes his fingers from you and puts them in his mouth sucking all of the delicious pussy juices off of them before sitting back against the headboard and pulling you into his lap.

“Such a pretty girl, you took that so well.” He runs his hand through your hair as he praises you before bringing your face into his hands. Gently he wipes away the tears that have fallen.

“So good” he kisses you on the forehead before bringing you back into his chest.

As you regain awareness of your surroundings you feel Remus’ heart thump beneath your face and the bed beneath you feels damp with sweat.

“Did we really sweat that much? s’not that hot in here.” You mumble into him.

Remus lets out a chuckle before leaning back and bringing a finger under your chin to make you look up at him.

“Sweetheart it's not sweat, you squirted”

Your eyes widen in realisation before you bury your head back into his chest hiding your face from him in embarrassment.

“Aww, don’t be embarrassed love, it was so fuckin’ sexy” he says as he strokes your back one more time before standing up and carrying you to the bathroom.

“C’mon baby, let's have a quick bath before bed” he places you on the bathroom counter before walking over to the bath to fill it up.

As the water starts running he starts to mess around with some bottles, picking one up he turns to face you “Lavender?” he asks.

You look up at him whilst biting your lip “yes, please”

He pours the lavender-scented bubble bath in before coming back over to you, he lifts you up and brings you over to the toilet to take care of your business, whilst you do that he leaves the room to go and fetch some towels.

Coming back into the room he switches off the water before walking over to you, he picks you up and brings you over to the bath gently placing you in the tub before getting in behind you.

Your thighs are still trembling slightly from all of the overstimulation, Remus pulls you back into his chest and runs his hands over your arms before kissing you gently on the neck.

“M’pretty girl” he mumbles as he brings his hands down to cup your breasts whilst nuzzling your neck. Remus gently squeezes each breast, massaging them lightly with his muscular hands before stopping to pick up a washcloth.

Remus gathers up some soap and starts slowly washing you down, he starts with your arms so that he can keep you against his chest then he puts down the cloth so that he can put soap on his hands, he gently washes your torso with his hands taking extra care around your breasts.

Remus picks the cloth back up and pushes you forward slightly to do your back, he does so quickly so that he can take you back into his arms as soon as possible. Next, he moves on to your pussy, the water in the tub had been soothing it whilst you were relaxing. Remus brings his hand down to clean it but at the first touch you whine and flinch.

“Shhh darling, it’s okay, I’m just cleaning you up I promise.” He soothes

Remus tries to clean you again and succeeds but you still flinch, tears start to fall down your face at the touch on your clit which has been overstimulated beyond belief.

“Oh baby, I’m sorry” he holds you in his arms and rocks you slightly trying to calm you down a bit before he tilts your head back to look into your eyes. “I love you” he proclaims before giving you a soft kiss on the forehead.

“Would you like me to do your hair m’love or are you too tired?” He questions with a soft look in his eyes.

“M’sleepy” you mumble as you lean back further into his arms.

“Okay darlin’, I’ll take you to bed in a few minutes” he softly strokes the side of your face before picking up the wash cloth to quickly clean himself.

After a couple of minutes he stops, stands up and gets out of the tub. Remus being the gentleman that he is takes your hand and leads you out of the tub before wrapping a towel around you.

You move to return to the bedroom but he stops you with a hand on the waist, confused and tired you turn around to look at him.

Remus lifts you up and places you on the counter, he rummages around for a minute before coming out with your skincare products.

“I’ve got to take care of you m’love, let me just do this real quick”

Remus gently washes your face before applying your toner and moisturiser all whilst looking into your eyes. His gaze is soft and sweet as it usually is post-coitus a contrast to the burning dominant look in his eyes that he has in the bedroom.

After finishing your skincare routine Remus lifts you off of the counter and carries you back to the bedroom, placing you on the bed.

Remus walks over to the dresser and searches for a minute before picking out one of his T-shirt’s, he throws it over to you and picks out a pair of underwear for himself.

Remus walks back over to you and gets you to stand up, he lifts up the covers on the bed then motions for you to lay down and he kisses you on the head before walking around to the other side of the bed and getting in with you.

Remus pulls you into his arms, wrapping them around you in a warm embrace. You look up at him sleepily, “I really wore you out this time didn’t I?” he chuckles.

“Love you so much” you whisper before leaning up to kiss him softly on the lips.

“I love you too darling” replies Remus fondly.

You rest your head against his chest and listen to his slow breaths and steady heartbeat, you can feel yourself getting more relaxed and sleepy.

The last thing you feel as you drift off to sleep is Remus’ hand soothingly rubbing your back as he holds you in his arms.

Taglist

[venusiangguk]

hand-picked | jjk (m)

>>pairing: jungkook x reader / famous!jk x sex worker!oc

>>genre: strangers to lovers, smut, pwp, teaser, drabble

>>word count: 2.8k

>>warnings: glory hole au!!!, cocky jk, bad boy jk, stripper oc, sex work, sexual tension, awkward tension, hand job, blowjob, cumshot, cum on tits, pay for play, semi-anonymous sex, dirty talk, dishonesty...  that’s it i think zzz

>>notes: if u don’t like sex workers ur ugly and i hate u 😌 also ty to @wheresmymoniat​ for betaing n helping me out, ily <3 *repost bc tag issues don’t mind me 🙄*

>>summary: glory holes weren’t a real thing... at least until you’re on your knees for a stranger, cock in your face, with nothing but a curtain between you.

Despite your nerves, you grasp the semi-hard cock in front of you, attached to a nameless person behind the curtain. For a moment you wonder what the hell you’re doing, but the soft sigh that you hear brings you back to the present. You stroke up and down, watching as he starts to become fully aroused. The foreskin rolls over the pink tip on every upstroke. You bite your lip. The silence is awkward, but you think maybe the whole situation is.

 “So... what do you do? Like… not specifically of course, but are you an idol? An actor? You can be vague…” 

 Behind the curtain, Jeongguk, whom you don’t know the identity of, stiffens just a bit. Will his voice give him away? Maybe, but he was never one to turn down an opportunity to boast about himself and his achievements.

 “I’ve done it all,” His voice is airy, softer than he would like, but your hand on his cock is speeding up, and so is his breathing. “I’m good at all of it too.”

 You hum at the man’s response. Cocky. “Isn’t saying you’re good at a lot of things just another way of saying you’re not good enough at one thing? So you have to compensate by spreading yourself thin?” You gasp a small giggle when you feel the cock in your hand jump a little at your words. “Did you like that? It wasn’t meant to be degrading, but if that’s what you’re into-“

 “It’s not- that.” He doesn’t know if he’s denying your psychoanalyzation, or your keen interpretation of the way his cock reacted to your psychoanalyzation but one was more inaccurate than the other. He actually was great at most everything he did, no need to overcompensate like you assumed. 

 Your small hand tightens, and you rub your thumb at the underside of the head, you let out a small pleased noise when you see a bead of precum well at the tip. “Really? You’re starting to leak a little.”

 You sound amused and humorous and if Jeongguk had it in him he would be annoyed or even upset at the way you’re talking to him. You were basically hired help, a means to an end. He glances down his torso at his hard cock in your tiny, well-kept manicured hands. Your nails are a dark red, burgundy color. It complements your skin well, he thinks. He can’t see much of you, just your forearms, along with the bottom part of your tummy and your legs. You’re sitting on your knees between his spread out thighs, feet tucked under you. From the tight black leggings you’re wearing and the slim-fit long sleeve white crop top you have on, Jeongguk can tell you have a good figure. Your waist is tapered in, tiny and cinched, and your hips are wide enough to accentuate it, letting him know you’ve got a petite hourglass frame. You aren’t too skinny though, there’s a softness to your body that he likes. It’s not like he needed the tight fitting clothes to know what your body looked like, though. He’s already seen more of it than he is right now. His mind flashes to the club.

 You may be hired help, but you were hand-picked by him. 

 “It’s just-“ He contemplates what to tell you and settles for, “It’s been a while.”

 “Since?” You push. You hear footsteps outside and you hand stops, scared for some reason that you’ll get caught doing something bad. As if the door wasn’t locked and being guarded. Behind the black curtain, his hips lift just barely, urging you to keep going. Don’t stop.

 “Since someone’s helped me.” Jeongguk’s head rolls back when your hand starts moving again. It’s been at least a few months since he’s gotten off with someone, his hand being his only companion. After the situation blew up even more than it had in months prior, his leash was tight. No wiggle room at all. He was suffocating and desperate. He almost cried when his team propositioned this arrangement, embarrassing as it was.

 When he speaks, his voice is soft and everything is said with a sigh. He sounds so relieved, like it feels so good to be in your palm, like he’s been waiting for your hand on his cock forever. You blush, and right your thoughts. You don’t even know who he is or what he looks like. Still, you ask, “Does it feel good, do you like it?” Tone soft to match his.

 Jeongguk nods and swallows thickly. Eyes still closed, letting the pleasure slowly work its way through his veins. Then he remembers you can’t see him. “Yeah.” He breathes.

 You hum and keep up your ministrations. Not slow, but not fast either. You’re not quite sure what he likes yet, but the soft moans that flutter through the curtain at least let you know what you’re doing isn’t wrong. 

 “I like your hands,” He surprises you by saying. “They’re so small; soft,” A more vocal sound falls from his lips when you twist your hand on the upstroke. He’s chuckling when he says, “Kinda strokes my ego a little bit.”

 You glance at the cock in your hand. It’s pretty. Thick and pink. A pleasant kind of heavy in your hand. The veins running over it are subtle enough to not be ugly or intimidating. The only intimidating thing about it is the size. He’s big. And you’re sure he already knows that. 

 You snort. “I don’t think you need that stroked.”

 This makes him laugh a little harder. It’s a nice sound. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” He hums, you think you can hear a smile in his voice. It’s quiet again for just a moment before he says, “Will you- faster? Make your hand a little tighter too- yeah, like that.”

 His hips sink into the chair when you comply with his requests before he’s bringing them back up, subtly thrusting into your palm. You fight back a moan; you shouldn’t be getting hot for someone you don’t even know right? This was strictly business. Still, you can’t help the slight shifting you do, squeezing your legs together for a little bit of pressure on your pussy.

 Jeongguk notices. “Are you turned on?”

 “No!” You squeak.

 “You can touch yourself,” He offers.

 “No!” You insist, “I-I’m fine.Thank you though.” You say dumbly.

 He doesn’t say anything more, focuses on your hand on him, tugging just how he asked. His hand rubs over his stomach, flexing as he teases himself, his own light touches mixed with your strokes brings goosebumps over his skin. “Feels, so good.” He groans, eyes watching your hand under the curtain.

 Encouraged, you bring your other hand up and massage lightly at his balls. They’re hairless, the only hair he has is the small trimmed patch above the base of his cock. He’s well kept and has good hygiene. That alone was attractive to you, stranger or not.

 When you palm his balls, his legs spread as far as they can with his black cargo pants still around his calves, his big black stomper boots keeping them from being shed all the way. “Fuck,” He moans deep and loud for you. One of his hands comes down past the curtain and reaches for you before he quickly pulls it back. You think you saw a flash of ink on it, but you can’t be too sure, mind kind of fuzzy with poorly hidden arousal. The opposite hand comes into view, and your mouth parts in awe as he covers your own hand with his. It’s so much bigger than yours, completely enveloping it as he strokes himself off, using you in a way. Then again the whole arrangement was you both using each other. 

 “You’re mouth- put your mouth on it,” He sighs, pleasure just dripping from his lips. His cock is rock hard in both your hands, and you can tell he’s getting close.

 You hesitate. “Will… will you be able to see me?”

 Jeongguk comes out of his desire induced high a little bit and realizes what he said. He wants it, fuck does he want your mouth, but he probably should have asked. “No, no. I’ll lower the curtain a bit more if you want, and you don’t have to swallow. You don’t even have to suck it if you don’t want- like I know we have a thing going on but I would never like- force you I-“

 He’s rambling a tad so you cut him off. “I want to, I think,” You whisper, taking in his intimidating size again, “I just- if I can’t know who you are, you can’t know who I am.” You blush feeling a little childish.

 Jeongguk keeps the fact that he already knows what you look like and more or less who you are, at least on a surface level, to himself as he moves the curtain to the next lower notch, the bar resting just above his pelvis now. He can’t really see much of you at all anymore. “That’s fair, yeah, just-“ With your confirmation that you do in fact want to suck him off, he can’t keep the lustful neediness out of his voice, “Please.”

 You take a deep breath as you wrap both of your hands around his cock, the tip still poking out the top. Tentatively you lick at his frenulum and the sound that comes from behind the curtain is obscene. His hips twitch and everything. You want to hear his noises, all of them, so you do it again. You flick your tongue fast over the most sensitive underpart of the head, before placing wet sucking kisses to the same area, almost making out with the tip of his cock.

 “Oh my god-“ His body is pulled taut, and his hands are gripping the chair that he’s sitting in. “Fuck that’s- I love that.” He says, head dropping back, mouth open in a silent moan. 

 You moan against the tip of his cock, not able to hold yourself back anymore. Wrapping your lips around it, you take the head all the way into your wet, hot mouth, and suck. You lap up all the precum that leaked out, and point your tongue to play with the slit. The man behind the curtain is loud for you, letting you know just how good you’re making him feel. You get so lost in it that you don’t register him raising the curtain bar just enough for him to slip his hand past and push you off.

 “S-sorry,” He says, panting, “I was about to cum.”

 You make a small sound of confusion. “That’s okay, I can swallow- If you want me to.”

 Jeongguk shakes his head behind the curtain. “No, I- I wanna watch… see your hands stroke me off.” His request is quiet but his cock pulses in your hand, needy and hot. Already begging for release, despite you not being at it for that long.

 Wordlessly, you start stroking again, gathering the spit that’s on his tip to make the slide easier. It doesn’t take much time at all before his thighs are flexing and you can see the lower part of his abs tensing. 

 “Close,” He whispers.

 Jeongguk watches as your tiny hands fly up and down his cock, grip tight just like he showed you. He’s doing his best to not fuck up into your hands, wanting to just rely on you and your movements, but it’s hard. Small eager little thrusts of his hips show you how ruined he is. And it’s just a handjob. He knows. If he was present enough he would probably be embarrassed by how angry and red his cock is, swollen and hot in your palm. And he’s just so wet, leaking all over the place making the strokes of your hand loud in the room. 

 He watches as you hunch over some, to where he can see everything below your neck, and your free hand comes up to your shirt. He sees you struggle a little bit as do your best to get the collar down under your bra, with only one hand before squeezing at your tits. “Do you want to cum on them?” You whisper.

 “Fuck, please.” He whines high pitch and needy, all reservations out the window. 

 You hum, and work your arm faster over his cock, the rapid movements making your tits jiggle. “Do it, cum for me… cum all over my tits.”

 You can’t see him, but Jeongguk’s face is lewd. Pleasure so apparent on his features, it almost looks painful. His eyebrows are furrowed, his mouth open, his cheeks flushed, and his eyes are wet and glassy, so overwhelmed by finally getting help after so long of cumming by himself. He’s chanting soft, pornographic yeah’s and yes’s until his whole body curls in on itself, you can see the way his legs tremble as he moans, “Fuck, I’m cumming.”

 He forces himself to keep his eyes somewhat open, lidded and heavy with arousal, as he shoots all over your chest. You’re moaning with him behind the curtain as you work him through his orgasm, despite no physical pleasure being given to you, and that makes another small shot of cum dribble from his spent cock. You lean forward, careful of your identity, and wipe the leftover milky substance on your already soiled skin and black bra. You slap the slowly softening cock on them for good measure and Jeongguk groans.

 You keep playing with his cock, not sure if he’s the type to like it or the kind that wants you off right after he finishes, but he winces and reaches his hand under after not too long, stopping you.

 “Please,” He whines.

 His voice is fucked out, and your pussy aches, needy and wet in your panties. “Oh, sorry…”

 He laughs lightly. “No, no. Don’t say sorry… You’re like- so good.” Jeongguk sighs to himself out of your view. He’s leaning back in the chair, while running a hand through his sweaty hair. Little tremors of pleasure are still coursing through him, when he closes his eyes, blissed out, dazed and relaxed. Finally, after months of being pent up. “So, so good.” He murmurs softly, distractedly. 

 His hand that reached under the bar to grab yours to stop you, is lazily rubbing over the back of your hand, hold light and subconscious against his thigh. He probably doesn’t even know he’s doing it and you blush, shyly pulling your hand away. He doesn’t show any sign of even noticing and you both settle into a soft quiet, only your breaths sounding in the room.

 “Um.” You say eloquently.

 “Fuck sorry.” Jeongguk says, scooting the chair back to put his now soft cock away. He rolls his eyes to himself. Way to get stuck in the afterglow by himself with his flaccid cock in some girls face. “Let me get you a towel.”

 “Should I put the blindfold back on?” You ask.

 “Uh- Yeah.” He says stilted. This is weird. You just made him cum so hard he almost knocked out, and now he’s making you cover your eyes so you don’t figure out who he is. 

 You hear the hesitation in the man’s voice and assure him that it’s okay, while grabbing the blindfold you tucked into the waistband of your leggings. You knew how it went, you signed the papers. Patiently you wait until you hear him coming back and sense a soft moist towel being shoved under the bar. You blindly grab it with a soft, “Thanks.”

 “I’ll go wait in the bathroom so you can- I don’t know…? Get ready to go I guess.” You hear his heavy boots retreat to the bathroom, that’s located on his side of the curtain, assuring that he wouldn’t be seeing you on his way.

 With the blindfold off, you go about cleaning yourself. Your knees crack when you stand up after being sat on them for so long. Wincing, you run a hand through your long hair and walk over to the table where you left your bag. You leave the used rag in its place and you shoulder the purse. About to make your way to the door, you pause.

 “I’m uh- leaving?” You yell unsure.

 “Okay,” He yells back through the door. “Did you- did they- your- did they give you the-“ He stutters, not sure how to ask if you got paid.

 The wad of cash in your purse is heavy. Figuratively and literally. “Yeah, they did.” 

 “Okay… Good. I’ll um see you next time?” He sounds hesitant and shy. 

 You laugh. “Yeah I guess so.” And with that, you make your way out of the hotel, thinking that he sounds a whole lot less entitled and cocky than he did when you first got there.

~~~

hiii guysss! thanks for reading this lil drabble! This is kind of like a teaser for a longer fic i have on the back burner (let me know if you like the concept and want me to continue!) but i wanted to post something because i havent for a few weeks bc i have been soo busy with school pls i want to cry 🥲 i should be doing maths as i post this lmao. ANYWAY! thanks again for reading, if u liked it, pls like, comment, reblog, or even send an ask! love talking to u guys n feedback is always lovely <3

[malfoysstilinski]

pretty sights | draco malfoy smut

draco malfoy x fem!reader

summary: draco walks in on you masturbating on his bed and talks you through it before finishing you off himself.

warnings: smut, female and male masturbation, fingering, eating out, praise kink but also some degradation, slight cum play, maybe more?

word count: 2.1k 

a/n: this was meant to be less than 500 words for a blurb but i got carried away--

Draco was late. The two of you had been hooking up for a few months now, right under the noses of all of your friends, and he was easily the best you’d ever had. He’d slipped you a note that morning, telling you to be in his prefect dorm by seven that night-- no excuses. 

Yet here you were, all alone, no Draco in sight at all. You sighed, shutting your eyes as you lay your body across his silk sheets. They were the same Slytherin green that he loved, making you smile a little as you skimmed your fingers across them. His scent surrounded you; the green apple of his shampoo, the expensive cologne you bought him every year for his birthday. 

It was hard not to get turned on when you thought about all of the things that had happened on this bed. All of the words he’d said to you, all of the things he’d done to you and promised to do to you again and again and again until you were sick of it. You were sure you would never get sick of Draco and his fingers or his tongue or his cock. 

Without thinking too much about it, you sighed and wriggled on his bed so your head was comforted by his pillow. Your hand snaked down past the waistband of your school skirt, past your panties, touching your cunt. Your hands were cold from the coolness of the Slytherin dungeons, making you gasp. 

“Fuck…” You whispered, arching your back slightly to get a better angle at your clit. 

Waves of arousal surged through you as you began to rub yourself, feeling it throb beneath you as wetness collected around your entrance, dampening your fingers slightly as you slid them down. Swallowing, you threw your head back and closed your eyes, small breathy whimpers leaving your lips as you thought about Draco. 

“Are you imagining those are my fingers, darling?”

You glanced up, barely phased by Draco’s silent entrance into his bedroom. He stood leaning against the door, his arms folded and his silver eyes dark. His jaw was slightly clenched as if he was restraining himself from marching over to the bed and finishing your job himself. 

“Mhm,” you gave a small hum and a nod, deciding to part your legs a little so that he could see what you were doing better. 

Draco nearly groaned at your words, his lips parting slightly as he strode over. He kneeled on the end of the large bed, grabbing your knees with his large hands and parting them even further. Your actions didn’t stop on your clit, your fingers drawing circles that he couldn’t see properly past the lacy panties that you were wearing. 

Hiking your skirt up, he then reached forward and pulled at your panties. You moved your hand so he could tug them all the way down, but quickly returned your hand. Draco’s tongue darted out and wetted his top lip, entranced by your movements. 

“Are they as good as my fingers?” Draco questioned, voice darker than usual.

“No,” you whispered, sliding your middle finger down to your entrance and thrusting it inside, curling it the best you could. “Yours are so much longer. Feel so much better inside me. Thicker and deeper.”

Draco nearly looked like he was drunk, sort of dazed as he focused on your pleasuring yourself. He’d never seen you do it before, he’d always been the one making you feel good. His cock felt hard in his trousers, throbbing as it begged to be inside of you. Draco refrained from palming himself, tracing circles on your knee as he studied you. 

“Add another finger, pretty girl,” Draco murmured, “Stretch yourself wider for me.”

Chewing down on your bottom lip, you did as you were told, sliding your ring finger inside as well. Draco’s mouth parted a little further, his hand now gripping your knee a little as you began to slide your fingers in and out of your dripping cunt. He watched the way you curled them upwards, but he could tell that your own fingers didn’t do it for you like his own did. 

“Go faster,” Draco ordered, “I want to hear how wet you are.”

Your breath hitched but nevertheless you obeyed. Thrusting in and out of your cunt, you threw your head back and allowed your thumb to simultaneously rub at your clit. You wished he would take over and fuck you as hard and fast as he wanted into his green, silky sheets, but this was also arousing-- the coil in your stomach beginning to tighten already.

“Does rubbing your clit feel good, princess?” Draco whispered. 

“Yes,” you whimpered.

“Pull out your fingers,” he commanded, watching with a smirk as you followed everything he said. “Let me lick them clean for you. Don’t want a drop to go to waste.”

You sat up a little, Draco moving to hover over you, his hand hand supporting his weight. You guided your fingers towards his mouth, watching as he opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out slightly. A gush of wetness dampened your cunt even further, a moan escaping your lips as he took your fingers into his mouth, sucking lightly whilst looking you in the eye. 

He smirked around your fingers, the tip of his tongue cleaning you before he pulled away with a small pop. Breathlessly, you reached for him and tugged his face close to yours, your lips smashing against his. Draco’s mouth worked against yours like magic, like you were made for one another, his other hand moving to grab the back of your neck and bring you even closer.

“So good for me,” Draco muttered as he pulled away, his forehead against yours. “You’re my little slut, aren’t you? You’d do anything I say…”

“Anything,” you promise with a nod.

Draco bit his lip and then grinned, grabbing you by the neck and forcing you down against his pillows. You gasped as you looked up at him, feeling his hand snake down between your legs. He swiped a finger through your folds without breaking eye contact, causing your back to arch a little, thrusting your hips as he cupped your cunt with his large, cool hand. 

“So fucking wet…” He muttered, “Did imagining that it was me make you wanna cum, darling?”

“So bad,” you whispered. 

You were nearly cut off by two of his fingers thrusting straight into your entrance. It was so abrupt that you cried out, your head snapping backwards. The sound vibrated through the hand that Draco had wrapped around your neck, his thumb rubbing over your pulse point as he thrust his fingers in and out of you. The sounds that were being made nearly made you blush, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he curled his fingers, hitting spots that you could never reach by yourself. 

“Good girl,” Draco growled, “Such a good fucking girl for me. You know that nobody can make you cum like I do, don’t you? Not even yourself anymore. I’ve ruined you for even yourself.”

You could barely nod against him, your head too fuzzy. You felt like you were on cloud nine, small screams ripping past your lips when his thumb found your clit. He rubbed at it harshly, feeling your legs tremble. 

Draco pulled his fingers out of your cunt and retracted his hand from your throat. You squirmed as he moved down your body, grabbing your hips and pinning you down against the mattress so you couldn’t move. Your entire body shook a little as you felt him spit on your cunt. 

He moved one arm away and swirled his spit around your pussy, mixing it with your arousal before diving down. He didn’t ease you into it like normal, didn’t lick a stripe through your folds and then kitten lick at your clit, but wrapped his entire mouth around your swollen bud and began to suck. 

“Draco!” You moaned, reaching down and grabbing at his platinum hair, tugging slightly. “Fuck! Fuck, just like that…”

Draco made slurping noises and moaned against your cunt, enjoying the waves of wetness that coated his tongue as he lifted from your clit to thrust slightly at your entrance. Squeezing your eyes shut, you threw your head back and whined, desperate for some sort of release.

His moans against you grew more frequent so you lifted your head slightly, finding Draco rolling his hips against the bed. He thrusted his tongue in and out of your entrance a few times before peering up at you, silver eyes dark and hazy. 

“Have I ever told you how much eating you out fucking turns me on?” Draco muttered, grabbing your knees and yanking your legs apart again from where you had begun to squeeze them together for some sort of pressure. 

He delivered a smack to your clit, causing you to whimper. “Do not shut your legs,” he hissed, “Or I’ll leave you here alone to get off by yourself again.”

“No, no-- please,” you begged him. 

Draco’s smirk widened as he palmed himself through his trousers, bending down to suck at your clit. You felt his teeth nibble slightly, your mouth shaking as it dropped open. His hand that wasn’t currently unbuttoning his trousers moved to thrust fingers inside of you, fucking in and out of you whilst his tongue lapped you up and swirled around your swollen bud. 

The coil in your stomach was growing tighter and tighter, your teeth clamping down on your lips. You peered down at him again, moaning even louder when you realised that Draco had his hand in his underwear and was pumping at his cock whilst he got you off. 

“Please let me cum,” you sobbed, “Please, Draco. I’m gonna cum!”

Draco thrusted his fingers in harsher, lapping you up quicker. His tongue was flat against your clit, his breath hitting you in the most delicious way. You felt him nod and knew that permission had been granted. It didn’t take long before you tumbled over the edge, cumming all over Draco’s tongue. Your walls squeezed at his fingers, Draco groaning into you, sending vibrations across your body. 

“So fucking hot…” He muttered as he pulled his finger out of you and kneeled between your legs.

He pushed his trousers down and pumped his cock, rubbing his hand up and down it. It looked like he was going to cum any moment, hard as ever and leaking precum. Then, Draco moved to hover over you, his hands either side of your head. You thought he was going to thrust himself inside of you and use your body until he came, but then one of his hands reached down to guide his cock through your folds. 

You whimpered, feeling his dick slide through your arousal and hit your clit. Draco thrusted his hips, rubbing his cock up and down your wet cunt, pressing into your clit every now and then. His mouth dropped open a little and then he swallowed thickly, glancing down between your bodies to watch his cock slide between your folds, hard and red and glistening with your cum. 

“Fuck, gonna cum all over your beautiful cunt,” Draco hissed, giving a few more thrusts before you felt his hot seed spill all over you. “Yeah, that’s it. Take my cum.”

Draco groaned loudly, burying his head in your neck, his lips nipping at you for a moment or two. Your hands moved to his pale back where you grazed your nails up and down his skin, thrusting your hips up to apply some more pressure to his cock. It jerked slightly when he was finished cumming and he pulled away, studying the mess that he had made all over you. 

“Fuck…” Draco muttered, “I’m not sure there’s a prettier sight than this… You covered in my cum.”

His fingers moved to swirl in his cum and he dipped them down to your entrance, thrusting it inside of you. He scooped more and did the same, painting you with it. Your body trembled and you swore, watching lazily as he rubbed your clit a few more times. You shuddered and came, this time less intense than the last, his name falling from your lips over and over again. 

“Maybe I’ll turn up late again if I get to walk in on you getting off on my bed,” Draco muttered, leaning up and brushing your hair out of your face with his clean hand. He slipped his messy one into your mouth, letting you clean it for him. “Fancy a bath now?”

You chuckled breathlessly and nodded. “You read my mind.”

[obae-me]

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!”