#i swear on my life this started as a bit and then i became rapidly invested in actually making it good for realsies

[coyotejone-s]

mira said she'd commission artist for mimi burger images if she had the money. i think the mental image is funny, so i'm doing it for free.

@mirakurutaimu

[fandoms--fluff]

Family Therapist

Female vampire reader x Elijah Mikaelson

Summary: Elijah is your husband and you've been basically the family therapist. Well, one night you both became one for his little brother.

Warnings: mentions of death I think?, mentions of ghosts,

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Elijah and you have been married for well over 400 years and over time you have gotten used to the family's drama and dynamic.

There have been many times when you acted as the family therapist, and let's not kid ourselves, you still are. Just somehow in weirder ways than some may think.

(But let's also be real, you still have to lecture Klaus out of daggering any of his siblings or hurting them 'just because', being the only one who he actually listens to, which is a miracle by itself.)

A great example is what just happened one night.

Surprising enough, this is the first time you've ever been in a situation like this. It's definitely not the worst or anything of it, but this was very different to say the least.

You were sound asleep in your husband's arms until you hear the door to your guys' room slam open. Both of you separate in alert, but the only danger there is, is the body that crashed between the both of you.

"What the?" You said sleepily and reached over to turn the lamp on.

Once the light lit the room in a yellow glow, you both look at the visitor in your bed.

"Kol? What are you doing?" Elijah asks, surprised that his younger brother is there, without acknowledging one of you.

"Oh you know, just missed my older brother and his wife" his voice was muffled by the pillow he pressed his face in to.

"Uh huh, and how does that explain you gripping onto the blanket for dear life?" You raised your eyebrow at the youngest brother.

"Because it's soft?" He asked unsure, rather than answering you.

"What happened?" You kept your eyebrow raised at the immortal teenager, no way for him to get himself out of this conversation now. Elijah saw that look on your face, knowing, now you won't budge until you get the truth out of Kol.

Kol looked up at you, letting out a huff, seeing no way of getting out of this. At least this is better than Nik, he'd just throw him in a box, he thought.

"I swear I saw someone move in my room, but I couldn't find anything, so I came in here to make sure if the ghost comes back there'll be alibis" he rapidly said, and hid his face back into the pillow, feeling his cheeks starting to turn red.

You and Elijah shared a look of concern before your husband placed a hand on Kol's back. "Kol, you don't have to be embarrassed about that, considering your experience with ghosts in the past, you have a right to react the way you did," he told him.

"Lijah's right, we would never judge you about that. So what if you're a bit wary about ghosts, it's normal, a lot of people are" you added.

Kol's breath hitched before speaking, "Really?" He looked up at both of you.

"Of course" You and Elijah nodded.

He smiled softly before a cheeky grin appeared on his face. "Just so you know, I'm not leaving. And if that ghost takes me, I'd rather have my final moments with you guys over Nik, who would most likely yell at me."

He laid his head back down on the pillow and closed his eyes, knowing that he was laying between you guys. "I know you guys probably want to be laying together and be all cute and couply, but I don't want to think about you two doing anything over pg-13. My poor innocence couldn't handle it" he said and let out an 'oof' when you smacked him with a pillow for the comment.

"Have you ever even been innocent?" You asked and looked at Elijah with amused eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose, looking like a tired father that just had to put up with his child. Honestly, he just did, considering what Kol had just said and he can sadly be even more immature.

"Of course I have...like that time...okay maybe when I was human, but that still counts" he mumbles and sticks his tongue out at you. And he hates it when you call him a child? Really?

[heeliopheelia]

"you ruined everything! i hope you're happy." (jay x fem!reader)

genre: smut word count: 0.8k requested by @jaylaxies ♡

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

warnings: unprotected sex, public sex, yn is a bit of a brat, spanking, swearing, hair pulling (if i missed anything lmk!!)

a/n: absolutely loved writing this one!! it's the first drabble for the 1k event, so i hope you guys enjoy it!! 💜

Your knuckles became white from how tightly you're gripping the sink, uncontrollable moans slipping past your lips as Jay muffles them with his rough hand on your mouth.

"So needy," he growls into your ear, hot air brushing over your earlobe. He holds your head up, fingers slightly digging into your cheeks as he makes you look at the both of you in the bathroom's mirror. The sound of skin slapping echoes through the tiled walls, completely distracting you from all the noise behind the night club's door.

Sneaking out from your friends wasn't too hard as all of them were way too busy absorbing ridiculous amounts of alcohol in your club's booth. And since it's Jay who's paying for all of their cravings, they can't let this opportunity go to waste now, can they? Well, Jay's paying for everything tonight, to be fair. It's your birthday after all and the party he's been planning with your friends for over a month.

"You ruined everything!" He scolds you, moving his hand to grip your hair and taking a good look at your pathetically fucked out face. Your body jerks forward with each of his thrusts, pelvic bone digging into the granite edge of the fixture. "I hope you're happy with yourself. All this planning - all for nothing just because my dirty girl couldn't keep her hands to herself."

He's right. You've been teasing him for the entire night, waiting for the moment when he couldn't take it any longer. Starting from subtly grazing his calf with your heel, moving all the way to boldly groping his semi-hard cock when no one was looking. The gloating smile never left your lips even for a second, up until now.

So what if you're wearing the prettiest dress you own - Jay's favorite actually, if he couldn't focus on anything else than the fact that you're not wearing anything underneath. Out of all 365 days in a year, you've decided to tease him this much on your birthday night. Shame on you, really.

"I didn't ruin nothing," you manage to breathe out through small gasps of air, clutching the porcelain sink as if your life depends on it. "If anything, I only made it better."

Jay scoffs at you, hips smacking against yours even more rapidly now. You feel all the air getting knocked out of your lungs yet you still push your ass further into him, hoping to get even more fraction from his sharp moves.

"You're lucky it's your birthday or you'd be in a big trouble right now."

"Oh, yeah? And what would you do?" You ask, voice shaky as he relentlessly ruts his cock into you. "You always only talk big but then do nothing about it."

"Really? That's not what you said last week when you couldn't walk for two days straight," he hums as he nibbles at your jaw playfully. His hand goes down to smack your ass sharply and you let out a loud moan. "But don't you worry, baby. You're gonna regret your words tomorrow, I promise."

With a happy purr, you let your eyelids fall close as you feel your climax approaching. You're becoming breathless, a string of moans leave your mouth and rings through the room along with the lewd sound the both of your bodies are creating. Neither of you cares for the impatient knocking on the door, way too captivated by the filthy reflection in the mirror that has you nearly mesmerised.

You whine shrilly. "Fuck, Jay, I'm so close!"

Your head drops down the second he lets go of your hair, moving his hand to grip your hip and pull your ass even closer as he pounds you. He presses his forearm against your back, pushing you down until you're almost folded in half and your chest is squashed against the sink. The sound of Jay's quiet grunts only rile you up even more and not even a minute later you're reaching your high, slightly shaking as loud whimpers leave your lips.

"Fuck," Jay hisses, knowing he's not gonna last much longer with you clenching around him this hard. His fingers grip the bottom of your dress and he rolls the fabric up, stopping it at your waist. He snaps his cock into you quickly, waiting until the last moment before pulling out and letting his hot cum spill on your ass.

You breathe out heavily, raising your head only slightly to look at Jay's teasing smile in the mirror. He starts fixing himself up, zipping his pants up before he notices you reaching for the toilet paper. He swats your hands away gently, grabbing you by your waist and pulling you straight on your wobbly legs. Biting back a smile, he tugs your dress down without cleaning you up and turning you around to kiss your lips hungrily.

"Jay, it's dripping down my ass," you whine out a complaint, feeling his cum slowly trickling down your thigh.

With a nibble to your bottom lip, he smacks your bum again with a grin. "Good, keep it like that. I'll give you more once we're back home," he says and pulls you into another kiss.

permanent taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997

[be-with-me-so-happily]

Chapter 5

Series Summary: Gemma is definitely Cassidy James' favourite Styles family member, considering they are best friends and all. And especially considering that Harry Styles is Gemma's smug and self-centered younger brother. Her life isn't perfect, and neither is she, but she knows for a fact that anything involving Harry gets messy.

Chapter Summary: Things are changing, for the entire world, so Harry and Cassidy navigate their friendship through the new situation that everyone now finds themselves in. Will things ever be the same as they were?

Chapter Warnings: Some explicit language, Covid-19, lockdowns & quarantines, mild injury, potential jealousy, wine consumption

[ present - March 2020 ]

With her phone held in front of her face, Cassidy quickly scans the vicinity of the room, through the door frame, making sure Cecelia is not within earshot.

"At least half of the country is on edge." She states quietly, eyes still glancing around to look out for her toddler. The little one doesn't need to hear or sense any concern that is present in their current conversation.

"It's the same here. The new travel ban isn't helping." Harry replies, sighing as he dips his head down. "It's the uncertainty of things. No one knows what's going to happen. It's as if the future is hazy."

"Hopefully it's nothing to be too concerned with." She responds, yet feeling a mild tightness in her chest. Just like Harry said, it's the uncertainty that worries her.

"On to a more positive subject, if things settle down, are you doing anything for Mother's Day? It's in a few weeks, yeah?"

Cassidy's shoulders raise in a shrug, an odd and solemn feeling rushing over her. She's never truly celebrated the holiday. When she was younger, her father obviously never did anything for her mum. Not anything good, anyway. Cassidy tried to do fun things with her, but it wasn't much. When she became a mum herself, there wasn't another person in the home besides her baby girl, so no one else was there to share in the traditional festivities of the day. Not that she wanted a big fuss anyway. Besides, this is the first year that Cecelia is even remotely aware that there is anything special about it. Needless to say, it has yet to be anything but another day of the week up until this point, so she hasn't thought to do anything specific.

"I don't know. It's like Valentine's Day, we'll probably just keep it simple."

"Nope." Harry states with a strong shake of his head. "I'm texting my mum."

"Don't you dare, Harry!" Cassidy exclaims, wishing she could reach through the screen to stop his plan from going any further, whatever it may be.

"You can't just do nothing for Mother's Day, Cass! You're a good mum! You should do something!"

"Harry, I swear to god-"

"Too late!" He proclaims triumphantly, that smug little smirk appearing immediately. Cassidy gives him the most intense glare she possibly can, hoping he can feel it somehow on the other end of the video chat.

"I hate you."

"That's not very nice…" He pouts, causing him to receive an eye roll of an unamused nature. "May I please talk to Cece? She's much more pleasant."

"Yeah, well, that's because she actually likes you." Cassidy quips, mimicking his mischievous smirk to add to her sarcastic insult.

"Hey…" Harry states. "Bloody hell. You're a grump today…"

Cassidy chews on the corner of her bottom lip. She knows she's being a bit too snappy. She isn't meaning to. All the talk, and worry, about this new virus that is spreading rapidly, it's getting to her a bit more than she expected. It doesn't help that she just started her menstrual cycle, and that Cecelia woke up multiple times during the night with a sudden onset of bad dreams.

"Sorry about that." She sighs, looking up to her phone, finding Harry's eyes attempting to flicker over her features through the video call. "It's just that things aren't really going very well today."

"Do you… you don't have to… but do you want to talk about it?"

Much to her annoyance, Cassidy cannot help the small flutter in her stomach at his concern and willingness to help. It hasn't even been that long but he really has become one of her closest friends.

"It's…" She chuckles, feeling just slightly awkward enough to stop herself before talking to him about her physical female issues. "Woman stuff."

"Ah. Okay." Harry responds, nodding as if he understands exactly what she means. Though, he might. He grew up with two women in the household, and has obviously dated a number of them too. Even still, it's not something she's willing to go into detail about.

"Also, Cece didn't sleep well last night." Her lips tense together in an awkward smile, and Harry presents a more sincere pout at the new information.

"That's no good." He replies, a slightly sad tone to his words.

"I'm sure she really would love to talk to you, actually." She admits, no longer with her comical demeanor.

"Alright. Send me over to her." He smiles, causing Cassidy to do the same.

She gets up from the edge of her bed, walking into the living room where she, of course, finds her daughter colouring across multiple pages of paper.

"Hey Bug, Harry wants to say hi."

Cecelia immediately drops her crayons and bounces in her place on the floor, waiting for her mum to bring over the phone. Cassidy giggles at her daughter's excitement and looks at her phone to switch the camera view for Harry to see the little girl's anticipation.

Suddenly, she is halted and instantly feels a shooting pain through her foot, originating from her pinky toe. Her hands fly up and she turns around to watch in agony as her phone lifts into the air and then falls onto the floor, smacking down against the tile in the kitchen.

"Oh for fu-... for crying out loud!" She shouts, holding back the true words she wants to release, for the sake of setting a good example for her daughter.

"Umm… hello? What happened? It's dark over here." She hears Harry say as she wobbles over and retrieves her device. "Are… are you alright?"

"I stubbed my damn toe." She growls, turning it over to find the back camera cracked all the way through. Shattered would be a better description. "And the camera is broken."

"Is it salvageable?"

"I doubt it. I can't do much about it anyway. I don't have the time right now to get a new one. Figures." She sighs, grinding her teeth down enough to feel pain in her jaw. She is usually better at handling or at least hiding her frustration, but her hormones and lack of sleep, as well as everything going on in the world, have just built up inside and this was the thing to tip her over. "Nothing is going my way today."

For some reason, she brushes off the phone, as if the dusting off would solve her problems, and then walks back over to Cecelia, whose eyes are wide open, clearly trying to use her three year old brain power to understand what just unfolded in front of her.

"Is Harry still on da phone?" Cecelia asks, her face changing to one ready for disappointment.

"Yes he is." Her mum replies, flipping the camera view back to face her, handing the device over to her daughter, and plopping down onto the sofa behind her.

"Harry!"

"Hello Cece!" He exclaims back, with just as much enthusiasm as he received. "What are you doing today?"

As Cecelia lifts up each of her drawings to proudly show them off, Cassidy examines her now throbbing toe, discovering the nail half snapped off, and she grimaces at the pain.

She leans forward and rests her elbows on her thighs, pinching her nose between her finger and thumb, squeezing her eyes shut. This isn't the worst thing to happen to her, and it isn't the worst day she's ever had. Not even close. Quite a few from her childhood could easily win that title. But, the sense of feeling overwhelmed still manages to hit her hard, and tears begin to sit on her lower lash line.

"Yeah, but Mummy helped-ed me when I had da bad d'eams."

"You have a very good mum." Harry states, causing Cassidy's head to snap up, seeing his gaze switch between her and Cecelia. His subtle smile pulls her out from the downward spiral of negativity, just enough to straighten her posture.

"She's da best mummy ever!" Her daughter exclaims, and Cassidy's eyes begin to water again, forming out of gratitude now instead of helplessness.

"Could you give the phone back to your mum, please?"

"Yeah, 'kay. Buh-bye Harry!" Cecelia waves to the forward facing camera, thankfully still working for this interaction, and hands the phone back to Cassidy. She quickly swipes a finger over each cheek, clears her throat, and lifts up the device to be in full view of the man on the other end.

"Cass, are you sure you're okay?" He asks, so much compassion in his voice that even the hardest of hearts would not be able to reject it. She's almost positive that statement would have changed her mind about him when they were younger. Possibly.

"I'll be alright." She replies, unsure of the honesty behind her answer, but certain that she does not want to burden him with any of these minimal problems.

"I'm here to help if you need me, okay? Well, I'm here, in Los Angeles, but the sentiment still remains." He chuckles, and Cassidy cannot hold back the small laugh she instinctively lets out.

"Thank you." She replies, knowing his generous heart, and not being one to hold back from doing what he can for a friend.

"No problem. But I should get going, and get a bit of sleep."

"Wait… what time is it there…?"

Harry pulls his lips inward, tightly, and closes his eyes, being accompanied by a subtle shake of his head.

"Harry…"

"It's 1 in the morning." He utters, scrunching up his face with the admission.

"Oh my god, Harry! We wouldn't have rung if we knew what time it was there! Why did you answer the phone in the middle of the night?"

"I couldn't ignore a call from one of my best friends, and her mum!"

"Piss off. You're horrible!"

"And you're still a grump. G'night!"

Cassidy rolls her eyes and watches Harry give a quick wink before reaching in front of him and ending the call. She locks the screen and reaches to place it in her pocket when she feels a notification cause her phone to buzz. She brings it back around and opens her messages to see a couple of texts from Anne.

🗨️ Anne: come over on mother's day

🗨️ Anne: and that's non-negotiable

"Oh for fucks sake." She whispers. "I'm going to kill him."

•••

Curled up on the couch in a blanket, fingers tapping away on the laptop sitting on her thighs, Cassidy groans at the sudden rapping at the front door. The thought crosses her mind to ignore the stranger on the other side, but the knocking continues, so she figures an answer to their persistence will shut it down sooner.

She angrily swings the door open, ready to scowl at the intrusion, when she is halted by the sight of her best friend.

"Bloody hell, CJ!" Gemma exclaims, her eyes wide. "Why weren't you answering the door?"

"I was trying to avoid the annoying person who was interrupting my day." Cassidy chuckles, feeling thankful it was simply her friend, and slightly guilty that she didn't respond to her sooner.

"Annoying?" Her friend drops her jaw in disbelief. "Bit rude considering I brought you some coffee!"

Cassidy's eyes travel down to the to-go cups in her friend's hands, and can already feel the warmth of the drink inside.

"Just let me in and then drink this immediately, for fucks sake." Gemma adds, bringing Cassidy's eyes back up as she opens the door.

Gemma makes her way in and directly over to the sofa, instantly settling herself in as Cassidy takes a seat to the side of her.

"So, what's up?" She asks, taking a sip of beverage she has just been handed.

"I can't just visit my best friend?" Gemma replies.

Cassidy immediately lets out a laugh. Despite loving to spend as much time together as they can, and do, she knows her friend too well to ignore the expression all over her features.

"Not when your face looks like that!" Cassidy points out. Gemma opens her mouth in dramatic fashion, attempting to portray offense at Cassidy's assumption of ulterior motives.

"Fine. I heard that you're spending Mother's Day with me and Mum…" Gemma states. Cassidy subtly grumbles at Harry's sneaky plan to get her to celebrate the holiday. She definitely plans to give him a few words about inconveniencing his own family, just to get her out of the house. "I was hoping you could help me figure out what I can get for her."

"Shit." She responds, thankful that her daughter is currently at daycare and not within earshot of the curse words that just have, and will most likely continue, to be uttered during their conversation.

"Right? Why is she so difficult to buy for?" Gemma whines, pouting as if she were a toddler herself, again.

"She's just always so fucking generous that she never wants or asks for anything for herself."

The pair laugh at the notion of complaining about how selfless Anne is, though they love her for it. Cassidy likes to think that Cecelia's contentment for anything and everything she receives has come from the influence of that wonderful woman. Neither Anne nor Cecelia care too much about what they have or are doing, as long as it's with the people closest to them, which sparks a small idea.

"Why don't we treat her to a fancy afternoon tea time somewhere?" Cassidy perks up with excitement, one she can actually get on board with if the celebration must include herself. "She's always wanted to go to Claridge's, right?"

"Yes! That's perfect!" Gemma exclaims, pulling her phone out swiftly and bringing it in front of her. "I'm going to tell Harry so he can pitch in."

"You're making him contribute? He's not even here." Cassidy chuckles.

"So? She is his mum too… and I'm pretty sure his bank account can handle it."

Her statement is true, and Cassidy is once again reminded of just how big a star her friend Harry is. It boggles her mind that she grew up with him, that she actually grew up with the now famous Harry Styles, because she still doesn't really think of him that way unless and until it's brought to her attention in certain situations. But, she realizes that as his career continues growing, his celebrity status is a fact that is becoming more and more prominent to her.

Cassidy takes another sip of her coffee and a sudden knock at the door causes both of them to immediately snap their attention towards that direction.

"I have no idea who that could be…" She states, turning back to her friend as if Gemma would have more of a clue.

"So then answer the bloody door, CJ." Gemma chuckles, rolling her eyes as her thumbs type out a message on her phone.

She gets up, hastily making her way over, and opens the door to find a man standing in front of her with a decent sized box in his hands.

"Miss James? Miss Cassidy James?" The man asks, and as she looks over his attire, she notices that he doesn't appear as someone who usually makes deliveries.

"Umm… yes, that's me…" She responds timidly, only leaving the door open enough to view the stranger on the other side.

"Excellent. I have a package here for you from Mr. Styles." He explains, lifting the box in full view with a pleased smile on his face.

"I'm sorry, what?"

The man looks down to the object in his hands, glancing over the information typed out on the printed label.

"Mr. Styles asked me to deliver this to you as soon as it arrived." The man clears his throat, which causes Cassidy to shift in place. "He said that he didn't want just anyone to bring it to you and to personally make sure you received it."

Her mouth opens slightly but her brain seems to be unable to form words. Without her ability to function normally, she gives the man a simple nod to thank him, retrieving the box through the doorway.

"Have a good day, miss." He states, responding with his own nod and a smile as he walks away, and Cassidy closes the door behind him.

As she makes her way back to the sofa, her expression immediately turns into confusion, and her curiosity begins to heighten. She is completely unsure as to what Harry could have sent her way, especially considering he is held up in an entirely different country.

"What in the-?"

"Just open it! I want to know what's inside!" Gemma squeals, bouncing in her spot much like something Cecelia does quite often when she is excited.

"You don't know?"

A simple head shake from her friend gives her the boost of interest to grab the mysterious package and pull it into her lap.

She looks to the small table to the side of the couch, quickly finding a pair of scissors that are just sharp enough to cut the tape. A few snips and the box is free to reveal what's inside. Cassidy gives a quick look to her friend, finding comedy in the giddiness they both suddenly begin to feel.

She pries open the top, reaching in and pulling out a box of chocolates. It's not something that needed to be sent to her or delivered by a man in a nice coat, but nonetheless, she won't complain.

The sweets are set next to her as she brings her attention to something else she seems to have been gifted. As her eyes meet the item inside, shock takes over the function of her body, as well as inhibiting any words to leave her lips, yet again.

"Well…?" Gemma asks impatiently, leaning forward and peering to get a view for herself. "A phone? Why did he send you a phone?"

Cassidy's focus shoots over to a paper flush against the side and pulls it out to find a note from the man in question.

CHOCOLATES TO FIX THE ATTITUDE PROBLEM AND A NEW PHONE TO FIX THE CAMERA ISSUE.

- H

"I'm seriously going to kill him." She whispers to herself, not knowing if Gemma was aware of the sentence she just spoke.

"I agree with the attitude problem. You've been quite moody. I suppose that's understandable though." Gemma jokes, pushing her shoulder against Cassidy. "But what's wrong with your phone?"

She lifts herself enough to pull the device out of her pocket, handing it over as she continues to glance over the new one now in her hands, removing the plastic from the outside container.

"Yeah, this camera is done for." Gemma states, placing the broken phone into the box in replace of the updated version. "How did Harry know that you needed a new one?"

Cassidy suddenly feels a miniscule version of something she experienced a long time ago. Something she felt after both times that she and Harry had sex. Nerves. And a dose of guilt. Yet, it's a ridiculous thing to be feeling. This is not the same situation in the slightest. She and Harry are friends, and that's all. And what's more, Gemma knows they are friends. Unlike her lack of awareness of the other incidents. It has to be residual effects from the past, because there is absolutely nothing for her to be worried about.

"We were on a video call when it happened." She replies, finally taking her eyes from her gift and landing them on her best friend, being met with a mildly inquisitive, raised brow.

"Oh, okay." Gemma plainly responds, her simple answer reassuring Cassidy.

"Yeah, me and Cece. I hurt my foot and dropped my phone." She shakes her head in remembrance of the event that felt so tragic when she was in the middle of it. "I told him I couldn't get a new one yet. Apparently he took it upon himself to do just that."

"He's that kind of guy." Her friend explains with a shrug, as if it's something Cassidy should automatically know. But then again, that's all she has been experiencing from him since their friendship started, so she truthfully shouldn't be surprised.

"He didn't need to do this." She utters, still having the instinct to turn down the kind gesture.

"He knows that. But it's not going to stop him. He takes care of his friends and family."

"I'm becoming very aware of that fact." Cassidy exhales with a single, subtle sound of a laugh.

"I'm just glad you two are finally getting along."

The surprise of the comment causes Cassidy's heart to stop along with her breath.

"What?"

Gemma turns her body towards her, rolling her eyes at the question she was just asked, as if the answer should be obvious.

"You two were insufferable around each other when we were kids."

"Well, I mean, he-"

"Oh, don't get me wrong, Harry was definitely a major pest, still is at times to be honest. But, come on, you were exactly the nicest to him either." Gemma explains, and Cassidy can all but keep from readjusting in her seat. "I guess I just thought you both would grow up and grow out of it, and end up… ummm, you know, being friends. Eventually. Or at least not hating each other!"

Flashbacks flood Cassidy's mind as she remembers back to their childhood. Not once did she think that her friend felt anything but the same annoyance that she herself felt.

"Shit. I'm sorry, Gem."

Her friend raises a hand to wave off the apology, as if it wasn't needed, though Cassidy feels otherwise.

"Yeah, well. It was only torture for me, for about twenty years…" She thankfully giggles, helping Cassidy's sudden guilt to lessen in intensity. "So just stay friends for an equal amount of time, at least, and we will call it even."

The thought of being Harry's friend for that long causes Cassidy's stomach to tighten and her lungs to inhale a deep breath. It's a reaction she wasn't prepared for, and one that's indiscernible at the moment. Although, she can acknowledge that it isn't of a negative nature.

"Be around Harry for that long?" She smirks, looking back down to the new phone just gifted to her by the man himself. "I can't make any promises. I already want to clobber him for this!"

•••

The bouncing of her leg does not help the impatience she feels as she waits for the call to be answered from the other end. She double checks the time, hoping that her calculations are correct, and that she can catch Harry as his morning begins.

Suddenly, the ringtone from the video call disappears and her gaze is met by a tousle-haired Harry.

"Oh my god. Did I wake you up?" She immediately questions, her heart racing with worry that she may have disrupted his sleep.

"No. Not at all." He chuckles, a coffee mug being brought up to his lips, covering up the small smile that has appeared at her exasperated question. "And good morning…"

"Good morning." She replies with a sigh of relief, and she notices the smile still stuck on his face when it is revealed to her again. "Umm… I wanted to give you a quick ring to thank you."

"No problem." He quickly states, with a raise of his eyebrow immediately following his words. "Wait, thank me for what?"

Cassidy can't tell if he truly doesn't understand what she is referring to, or if he is arrogantly playing dumb to get her to elaborate, but either way she feels a mild sense of embarrassment creep out onto her cheeks.

"For the chocolates, of course." She jokes, holding up the box that already has half of it's contents consumed. "But mostly for the phone. Harry, you-"

"I'm going to stop you right there." He interrupts, sternly but somehow also sweetly.

"Right. I know. You like doing things for your friends. But come on, Harry. This is not the same as just cooking dinner for us…"

"You needed a new phone, Cass." He states, with a sincere yet still stern tone. "How else was I going to talk to Cece?"

"It was only that back camera that was broken."

"Not just that. Your phone was like one thousand years old. You needed an upgrade." He exclaims with a smirk.

"Coming from the guy who doesn't even use emojis." She jokingly scoffs, drawing out a loud laugh from the man on the other side of her screen.

"Fair enough." He simply replies, being followed by a poking out of his tongue. "Does it work, though? Do you like it?"

Cassidy blinks her eyes as if in disbelief at herself, truly realizing that she has only questioned his generosity, despite ringing to express her gratitude. But also disbelief due to his apparent insecurity about the gesture. Not only does he want to do this for her, but he also wants to make sure she's happy with it, and it's fully taken care of.

"It's great, Harry. Truly. Thank you so much." She responds, a warmth traveling up her neck. "The camera on this one is really good! I've taken so many photos of Cece already!"

Harry's expression brightens at her answer and the heat creeps further up to her face. It's the fact that he helped her, and her thankfulness, that are creating this reaction. As much as she's working on accepting all of this, it's still all new to them.

"You'll have to send me some." He mutters.

"Sure."

A silence falls upon them for a moment, a bit of flickering of their gazes from each person.

"So… do you have anything planned for the day?" Cassidy asks.

She notices him play with his bottom lip, and a more serious expression rapidly displaying across his face.

"Harry…?"

"Umm… yeah, I've got a meeting." He quietly states, and Cassidy senses a sadness in his tone. "Bit worried that I won't be able to tour this year…"

"Oh shit." Cassidy instantly feels her heart hurt for him. She's always known how much he loves that part of his job, and to potentially not be able to do it must be painting him more than he is showing. "I'm so sorry. I know how much touring means to you."

"It's not-..." He sighs, his fingers combing through his hair more than once. "It's not even about me. It's all the people who buy tickets… and flights… and hotel rooms to come see me. It's not fair to them."

Cassidy stays silent as she watches his gaze drop down in a preemptive defeat. She knows there is nothing she can really say to ease his worries. But he's there for her, and she'll be there for him. And if that means sitting in silence on the other end of a video call, that's what she will do. She'll be there for her friend.

•••

She doesn't know if she's ever been more grateful to have a new phone. With the new nationwide, and seemingly worldwide, lockdowns now in place due to the coronavirus, Cassidy has never felt more alone. Besides Cecelia, but there's only so much she can talk about with a 3 year old.

Needless to say, she has already used her phone more than ever before, especially for video chats with her friends. Particularly Harry. Because it seems that not even miles of separation nor a pandemic can break the bond he and Cecelia share.

"I wan' say g'night to Harry…" Cecelia pouts, as she nuzzles into her bed and under her quilt. Her little hands lift up to rub her eyes, deceitfully reassuring Cassidy of her daughter's need for slumber.

"I know, Bug. But it's very late at night for him. He's sleeping."

"M'kay…" The little girl mumbles, the sadness so evident in her tone that it tugs at her mother's heart.

"How about we send him a message, yeah? So he can wake up to it in the morning."

Cecelia's eyes light up as much as possible with the heaviness of the day, and Cassidy props herself up against the headboard.

🗨️ Cassidy: sorry about this being so late… cece wanted to ring you before bed but i told her we would message you to say goodnight… so, goodnight from cece.

"Okay. I told him." Cassidy simply states, locking her screen as she looks down to her daughter, stroking the girl's long locks.

"I miss Harry."

Cassidy's eyes instantly widen at Cecelia's words. She knows the bond they have, but it still manages to catch her off guard at random moments. Not in a negative way, just in how tight that bond is.

"I know you do. He's your friend." Cassidy replies.

"He's my best friend!" She explains, even with her sweetly sleepy voice. "Well, you first. And Emily at school. Harry is after. But… don' say dat part!"

Cassidy can't help but chuckle.

"Okay." She smiles, giving Cecelia one final kiss on her forehead and moving towards the bedroom door. "I won't. Goodnight Bug."

"G'night Mummy. Love you." A little, relaxed sigh leaves her lips.

"I love you, too."

Cassidy closes the door and makes her way back to the living room. She plops down and grabs the remote, letting her body sink into the couch cushions. She smiles as a thought crosses her mind. Despite the horrible things happening in the world, and the chaos that quarantine creates, she still has things to be thankful for. Things that aren't seeming to be affected by any of that negativity. Those things bring her comfort, which is more than welcome these days.

•••

With the sound from a rerun of 'The Great British Bake-off' playing in the background, Cassidy scrolls mindlessly on her phone, attempting to wind down from the day. A sudden buzz causes the device to drop into her lap from surprise, and as she picks it up, she is even more shocked to see that the vibrations are due to a phone call from Harry.

"Good morning!" He states as soon as she answers, not even waiting for her to speak. "Oh. Wait… guess it should be more of a 'good evening' greeting for you…"

"Yes." She quickly pulls the phone back from her ear and checks the time. "It's 9pm here.

"Shit. I'm sorry. Were you asleep?" He asks, his voice going quiet, as if he isn't thousands of miles away in a different country.

"No, no. Just watching the telly." She replies, swearing she can hear his relieved exhale on the other end of the line. "What time is it there?"

"Umm… let me see… it's 5 in the morning."

"Since when do you get up that early?" Cassidy laughs, covering her mouth immediately in hopes that she didn't wake Cecelia. She skipped her nap and really needs her sleep.

There's a pause in the conversation, and Cassidy looks at her screen once again, checking if the call has disconnected, only to find that he is still on the line.

"I haven't been sleeping the best, to be honest. Lockdown has that all out of whack." He mumbles, and it squeezes her chest tight. Everyone has been out of sorts these days. Quarantine is hard on each person in their own way.

"Hey, it's your X-Factor audition anniversary today, isn't it?" She asks, hoping to take him out of the negativity she can tell that he is sitting in. Maybe a good memory will do the trick.

"Umm... yes, it is... how do you remember that?"

Cassidy unintentionally lets out another loud laugh, bending over at her waist at the amount of comedy behind Harry's question, and the certainty of her impending answer.

"Are you joking?" She asks, doing her best to regain control of her breathing, and stay quiet for the sleeping toddler in the other room. "I think that date is ingrained in my brain forever! You wouldn't shut up about it after Anne signed you up!"

[ flashback - March 2010 ]

For the past several years of her childhood, Cassidy has been subjected to Harry's increasing levels of annoyingness. However, today she feels as if he may have reached his peak.

If she hadn't already heard the news from Gemma herself, it wouldn't have taken long for the information of Harry's upcoming X-Factor audition to be brought to her attention. It felt as if the entire school knew within a matter of minutes.

"Hey, Cass!" Harry shouts out from behind her, causing her to internally cringe at the sound of her name coming from his mouth. It can't mean anything good, at least not for her. It never does.

She stops in her tracks and twists around to find the young lad jogging up to her with a wide grin stretching across his face.

"Did you hear?"

"Hear what?" She asks, playing dumb, though quickly realizing it just creates the opportunity for him to brag, and she internally scolds herself.

"I'm gonna be famous!" He exclaims, and the arrogant statement causes Cassidy to unintentionally scoff. "Hey…"

"You don't even know if you'll be on camera." She replies, knowing full well that the crew will inevitably be drawn to his irritating charm that everyone seems to fall for.

"So you did hear…" His grin widens. "I don't care. I get to sing!"

"You sing all the bloody time!" She reminds him.

"Right. Exactly. People seem to like it. So, I want to see if the judges do too."

"I don't like your singing." She blurts out, not meaning to let her annoyance with him get the best of her and her words. Especially considering the statement wasn't exactly true, though she'd never openly admit that to him.

"That's rubbish… you sing along any time White Eskimo plays..."

"That's because I like the actual songs."

"You can come along… if you want…"

"What?"

"To my audition. You can come along if you want. Robin, Mum, and Gemma will be there."

Cassidy opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out. Is he really inviting her? There's absolutely no reason for her to go, and definitely no reason for him to want her there. Unless it's to feed his growing ego. Maybe even use it as a way to 'prove' to his schoolmates that she 'loves' him, like he continues to lie about. The realization hits and manifests into a strong furrow of her brow.

"March 27th? I think I'll be busy that day."

"Marked it on your calendar already, did you?" His arrogant smirk immediately pulls his left dimple inward. "Might be the last time you get to see me…"

Cassidy cannot help the rolling of her eyes, even if the idea is quite shocking to think about. As her gaze focuses back on him, and sees his smug face, her desire to sass him back quickly reappears.

"Don't get my hopes up Harry."

[ present - March 2020 ]

"Hey, I was excited!" Harry exclaims, almost as if to verbally pout, as Cassidy chuckles at the memory.

"But I'm pretty sure you weren't supposed to tell anyone at that point. At least not the whole town!" Cassidy pulls her lips inward to hold back another loud laugh threatening to push out.

"I didn't ring you to be teased." He responds, a clear lightness to his tone.

"You should know better by now…" She teases again. "Why did you ring then?"

"I was told someone wanted to talk to me. But… I didn't realize what time it was for you."

Cassidy feels a little smile form with her mouth at the fact that he is so thoughtful to call Cecelia back, yet missing the slightly important detail of what time it is on the other side of the world.

"She just wanted to say goodnight to you."

"I miss that little one." He confesses, and she feels a warmth build up inside her chest. "I miss both of you, I suppose. When you aren't being a bully."

"First off…" Cassidy begins, letting out an amused exhale. "No, that's fair… but you're not missing anything. It's only been a couple of days since we've all talked."

"I'm aware. But I enjoy our chats. They're keeping me sane." Harry replies, and she can practically feel the sincerity to his statement.

"You don't feel sane?" She asks with a small laugh, though genuinely understanding his meaning.

"I just miss everyone. I miss home. Feels a bit lonely over here."

"Aren't you living with a bunch of people right now?"

"That's… yes. But that's not what I mean." He sighs, and she can hear a mild pain in his exhale. "Los Angeles isn't home. Not truly."

"Right. It will be nice to have you around again." Cassidy admits, sensing the mild desire to have had this be a video call, for the sake of displaying a reassuring expression to ease him.

"Did I just hear that correctly? You actually like having me around?"

"Shut up, you twit." Cassidy scolds with a chuckle. "But, it's honestly not the same without you here."

There's a silence that falls between, and Cassidy feels that light comfortability she is becoming accustomed to feeling when she dwells on the good things she still has to keep her going. These talks, and this friendship with Harry, are definitely one of them.

Her attention turns back to him as she hears the clearing of his throat, and she reverts back to being grateful that this call is not a video, as she senses a pink hue rushing to her cheeks.

"I just think that, when I'm finally home in London again, it'll feel like things are getting back to normal."

•••

[ present - June 2020 ]

As nice as it's been to work completely from home for the past few months, and spend more quality time with Cecelia, there is only a certain amount of sanity that someone can maintain while quarantining in general, let alone with an energetic toddler. So, Cassidy jumped at the chance to accept Anne's invite to her home, especially giving her daughter some freedom to go off and play while she chats face to face with another adult.

However, as she sits across from the woman who basically helped raise her, she can sense an awkward nervousness coming from Anne as she strums her fingers on the tea cup.

"I'm still sorry about Mother's Day being canceled." Anne expresses, slightly throwing Cassidy off that her anxiousness seems to be based off of the uncontrollable situation.

"It's not your fault. We went into lockdown!" She giggles, hoping her easy going demeanor helps to ease the unnecessary guilt Anne seems to be feeling.

"I know. It just would've been nice to have one last outing before everything shut down." Anne smiles, small but sweet.

Cassidy stays silent, gazing down to her beverage, the two seemingly understanding the nonverbal agreement. It hasn't been easy, for anyone, despite the rules of lockdown beginning to ease up. She's never been more grateful for open coffee shops and food delivery services, even if masks are required.

"Have you been out much now that we can, you know, go out a bit?" Anne asks.

Cassidy shakes her head slightly and she swallows her sip of tea.

"Haven't had much of a reason to go anywhere, besides the shops, for groceries."

"Oh." Cassidy hears the short reply.

As her eyes gaze back up to Anne, she is met with an unexpected expression, though one she had just been witnessing. The anxiousness has returned, or is still there, she isn't sure which one.

"Is… is there something else bothering you?"

"No, no. Not bothering…"

"But there is something." Cassidy replies, her eyebrow raising immediately.

"Well… it's just that, if you did want a reason to go out… there's this very nice guy, the son of a friend I have, and I thought-"

"Oh, so this was an ambush!" Cassidy states with amusement, but also a little frustration. She knows Anne means well, but she isn't even sure if she's ready for anything like a set up, and certainly wasn't expecting it to come from Anne.

"No, darling! No. I just… you're just a wonderful girl. And from what I know, he seems like a good guy. I just thought you two would have a nice time together…"

"I just don't know if I'm ready to date." Cassidy replies, the truth to her answer apparent to her in the way the thought of such a thing chaotically swirls around in her mind.

"Not ready? I can't even remember the last time you went on one! You definitely haven't since Cece was born!" Anne exclaims, snapping her mouth shut once the words come out, her features filled with regret. "I'm sorry. It's not my place."

"It's okay, Anne." Cassidy places her own hand over Anne's, waiting until their gazes meet.

"I just want you to be happy, CJ."

"I am happy." She reassures her.

"But you deserve to be loved. You deserve someone who absolutely adores you. Who, umm, who thinks the world of you, and never stops feeling that way. Who loves you through anything and everything life has and will put you through."

"Well, I have Cece…" Cassidy giggles, trying to divert the conversation to a more comfortable topic of discussion.

"You deserve someone who will love you both that way." Anne states, and Cassidy can see the emotion manifesting itself as tears form in the corners of her eyes. "I'm surprised you're still single, to be honest. But, if nobody… has tried… that's their loss. It's not as though you need it. A woman doesn't have to have a man to be happy. But, darling, you both deserve all the love in the world."

Anne's beautiful words and pure-hearted expression cause Cassidy's heart to melt. There isn't a sneaky or malicious bone in that woman's body, and she knows Anne is only doing it out of genuine love of her own.

"It doesn't have to be a commitment. Just a date. Or even just a… hang out of sorts." Anne adds, and Cassidy realizes she doesn't think she can reject Anne's offer. Or suggestion. Or whatever it is. She sighs, partially from gratitude but also defeat, and squeezes the hand she's holding.

"Alright." She agrees, watching as Anne tries to hide the way her face wants to light up.

"Alright?"

"I'll meet him." She concedes, every fiber of her body pricked with anxiety.

"Are you sure?" Anne asks, suddenly displaying more timidity than moments before.

Cassidy nods, mostly out of instinct. Anne has the best intentions, but bringing a guy into her life is not as simple as a casual 'hang out'. She has Cecelia. Not every man is open to being in a relationship with someone who already has a child. And Cassidy is more than a little cautious about who she brings into their dynamic. However, she knows that Anne is onto something. Even though she is perfectly content with it being her and Cecelia together, she can admit to herself that having someone else join their little unit wouldn't be the worst thing ever. As long as it's the right person. And she can't know if someone is the right person unless she gets to know them. So she might as well start somewhere, with someone. And if Anne knows this man, that's certainly not a bad place to begin.

•••

Derek is nice.

As planned by Anne, he and Cassidy first met up outside a small cafe, taking caution by social distancing from others, and enjoying the company together outdoors.

He is nice. Smart, successful, good looking, and seemingly uncomplicated.

The last part could be most important, considering that, as a single mother, her life can be the opposite at times.

Though, he seems to be very fond of her. He immediately made his intentions known that he won't see anyone else while they get to know each other. Again, uncomplicated. And any free moment she has, he wants to spend with her.

Which is why they are walking down the corridor to her flat, after he treated her to a very posh picnic in the park.

He guides her to the front door, a warm and strong palm placed on the small of her back, and stops behind her as they reach it.

She spins around, causing his hand to glide to her hip, and she swallows the lump in the throat that developed from the motion. It's been quite a long time since she's been touched like that, in that way.

"Thank you for today." She states quietly, some nerves seemingly getting the best of her.

"I'd like to do something with you tomorrow." He replies, a subtle squeeze of her hip accompanying his statement.

"Oh. I… I have some work to do, unfortunately." Her gaze drops out of unexpected shyness. It's not a lie, she does need to complete a few things, but she always finds herself in a daze after being with him. Dating feels new to her, all over again, and she always feels as if she needs to process their time together. Process the feelings.

His disappointed sigh is halted as the sound of the elevator rings out. They both turn their heads to see the doors open, and watch as Harry walks through them, his head down and his hands behind his back.

His pace slows as he gets halfway down, gazing up to meet the eyes of Cassidy, then shooting them over to the man beside her.

She looks over to Derek, whose expression matches that of her friend's.

"Harry? Harry Styles?"

"Yes…" Harry answers with hesitancy, and Cassidy concludes that he may be nervous about an awkward interaction with a fan.

"It's Derek. Derek Mills." He exclaims, raising his hand to his chest as if to provide visual proof of who he is. As if his identity should be obvious to the other man. "Holmes Chapel Comprehensive!"

Cassidy watches as Harry's eyes widen, flickering between her and the man he has now, apparently, been reintroduced to.

"Derek. Right. How's it going mate?" He asks, giving a blank stare and similarly neutral tone.

"It's going well. Yeah, I'm doing really, really well." Derek replies, giving a smile as his gaze moves to Cassidy before returning to her friend. Potentially his own old friend, though she can't quite be sure.

"Wonderful." Harry states, providing no emotion in his statement. He looks down to his hands after bringing them in front of him, showcasing a beautiful arrangement of flowers that she had somehow missed when the interaction began.

"I didn't realize you two knew each other. Especially considering, you know…" Derek points in Harry's direction. "He's famous."

"Oh, well-"

"We're good friends." Harry interjects. "We've known each other since we were kids."

An uncomfortable silence falls between the three of them, with only the jingling of Cassidy's keys sounding down the corridor.

"Those are nice." Derek states plainly, pointing to the bouquet, matching the tone he has been receiving thus far.

"Oh, right. I, umm, brought these over… for Cece." Harry replies, now keeping his gaze fixated on Cassidy. "Can I give them-"

"Oh." She responds quietly, suddenly feeling a tidal wave of tension filing the space around her. "She's having a little afternoon nap."

"Of course." Harry nods, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I should've remembered it was her nap time. I'm sorry."

"That's okay!" She instantly responds. She waves her finger between herself and the other man beside her. "We were just… saying goodbye. So I can take them inside."

She turns to Derek, being met with pure confusion. Not that it wasn't clear he wasn't being invited inside. That's something Cassidy put a boundary on as soon as he asked to see her again after that first date. So the confusion is most likely regarding this uncomfortable interaction between the three of them.

He gives Cassidy a nod and a quick kiss on her cheek.

"Message me tonight." He states, turning away from her and moving closer to Harry. "Nice to see you again, Harry."

"You too." He utters in reply, not giving the man much acknowledgement as he walks closer to Cassidy, and Derek walks further away.

Harry looks back at the now empty hall, and turns around to meet her stare.

"I didn't know you were… dating anyone…" He states softly, with a familiar timidity that she hasn't heard in a while.

"We've been on a few dates. Nothing too serious right now." She shrugs, rummaging through the bag she has hanging from her shoulder.

"Right. Well, that's… nice..."

"What's with the tone?" She asks, a sternness beginning to attach to her own tone. What reason can he have to be snarky with her?

"I'm a bit surprised that you didn't tell me about this."

As much as Cassidy was just questioning his current, negative demeanor, she didn't expect a real answer. Certainly not that answer.

"I didn't realize it's something you would even want to know…"

"I'm your friend! Of course I want-... I mean… we talked a lot while I was away. Seems like this would be something that came up in conversation…"

She studies his face, watching with uncertainty as he expresses the same sentiment.

"Your mum only introduced us a couple of weeks ago and-"

"My mum set this up?" Harry's eyes widen, just enough for Cassidy to pick up on the movement of his features.

"Yeah…" She replies, still sensing a sliver of the snarky tone he had used moments before. "She thinks I'm not happy. Or… wants me to be happier, at least. She wants me to have more love in my life."

"Love?" Harry immediately straightens his posture and his eyes widen with, what looks like, a curious shock.

"Well, god, one step at a time please…"

"So, do you like him?" He utters, a volume that almost caused Cassidy to miss his question.

"I suppose so." She shrugs. Her answer would truthfully be that she does, but that suddenly feels as if it would be a troublesome response to give at this moment.

"You suppose so?"

"He's a nice guy."

"Did you even know him in school?" He asks, passive aggressively at best.

"No… he was in the year ahead of mine. What's that got to do with-"

"I just don't remember him being a nice guy."

"In school? Harry, that was ages ago." She chuckles, trying to ignore the once familiar frustration making itself known. "I don't particularly remember you being at your best back then either."

"Yes, but that's-... it's just that, I-" He stutters, swallowing harshly and running his fingers through his hair as he clears his throat. "You're right. I wasn't."

"And look at you now. Bloody hell, look at us both now! I hang out with the biggest pop star in the world!" Cassidy exclaims, delighting in the comedic truth to the statement, even if it's not the real heart of their reconciliation. "But, moreso, I'm your friend. We are friends. People change, Harry."

"True." He utters in response. "I just… I'm looking out for you."

"I appreciate it. But you don't need to worry about me, I can handle myself." She smiles, standing up straighter to further display her confidence. "I'd like to think I have a good judge of character."

Harry opens his mouth, but quickly closes it, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.

"So… did you only come over to bring Cece some flowers?" Cassidy gives a small smile, still feeling an odd, mild tension in the air, but hoping the change of subject eases it away.

"Well, no. Since I just got back into town, I was going to invite you both over to my place." He returns her smile with one of his own, but the attempt still doesn't give her the reassurance she needs. "But since Cece's asleep, maybe another day then."

"Sure! Tomorrow?"

He hands over the bouquet and brings one hand up to fiddle with his lower lip, crossing the other around his waist, and furrowing his brow in thought.

"Yes. Tomorrow afternoon will work just fine."

Harry gives her a slight nod, along with a matching smile, and turns back to walk down the corridor. Cassidy watches as he gets back on the lift, his expression still seeming to be one of deep concentration on whatever his mind is dwelling on, and she begins to feel an uneasiness in her chest that she wasn't expecting to materialize between the two of them.

[ flashback - July 2014 ]

Dragged to yet another One Direction concert in London. That's where Cassidy finds herself with Gemma. It's annoying, at this point, that she so easily caves to her best friend's request of joining her, when she never wants to attend any of their shows. Not fully anyway.

And this time is worse, because Gemma managed to convince Cassidy to hang out backstage before the show, rather than after when she can use exhaustion as an excuse to get out of there quickly.

"So, what's new?" Niall asks her, scooting closer to her as they both lean against one of the dressing room walls.

"Not much really." She shrugs, considering the fact that her life is nowhere near as exciting as the one they lead.

"She's being modest." She hears coming from her right, feeling her friend nudge her with an elbow as Gemma walks up beside her. "She's finishing up at uni and then doing an internship for a place in Manchester!"

"That's amazing, Cassidy!" Niall exclaims, giving her a cheeky wink.

She simply shrugs, still highly aware of the company this news is being given to, knowing that this megastar's reaction is out of politeness.

"And she started seeing someone…" Gemma adds, causing Cassidy to shoot a strong, scolding glare in that direction.

"You're dating? Who are you dating?" A voice asks, and Cassidy turns her gaze to see Harry walking over from the other side of Niall, leaning one shoulder against the wall with his arms crossed over his body.

Who does he think he is to assume he has the right to even know the details of the new relationship she is in?

"You don't know him." She growls through her teeth.

"I might…"

"You don't."

She watches Harry look over to his sister, and out of the corner of her eye, sees the confirmation Gemma gives him. As if Cassidy's answer wasn't enough, or wasn't the truth. As if he knew better than to take her word for it. That arrogant prick.

"Does he know you know me?" His annoyingly famous smirk immediately appears after his words come out.

"Why would I tell him that?"

"Just don't want him to get jealous." He states, tapping Niall on the shoulder, obviously looking for someone to agree with his comedic statement, but only, and thankfully for Cassidy, receiving a shake of Niall's head.

"There's nothing to be jealous of."

[ present - June 2020 ]

The sound of chopping can instantly be heard as Cassidy and Cecelia enter through the front doors to Harry's house.

"In here!" They hear coming from the kitchen, and as they turn the corner, Cassidy is met with the view of Harry busying himself around the room.

"Can I go ou'side?" Cecelia asks, looking between her mother and their host.

"Of course!" Harry immediately exclaims, not bothering to check with Cassidy, even though her answer would be the same. She smiles at the comfort and normality of it all now, and realizes that it may never cease to cause her heart to fill up with so many good feelings. Happiness qand gratitude being the main emotions. "I could use your help picking some pretty flowers to put on the center of my dining table…"

The little girl's eyes light up, nodding at the suggestion and skipping her way outside.

"What have you got going on over here?" Cassidy asks as she turns back to Harry and moves into the kitchen, finding different foods sprawled out across the counter.

"Just… a small charcuterie selection…" He replies, laying cheese slices on the middle of the board.

"You didn't hav-... it looks delicious, Harry!" She states. Clearly she is still learning to accept his generous gestures, though that is one thing she may never get used to. She has spent so many years having to do anything and everything herself, that it is still doesn't feel entirely normal for her to have someone else do something for her.

"I have some wine over there if you'd like to pour yourself a glass." He gestures behind him, not taking his focus away from the food in front of him.

Cassidy walks over to the opposite counter of where he stands, picking up the one bottle he has pulled from his collection, and reading over the very intricate label.

"Are you sure you want to open this one? It looks pretty fancy."

"It's just a bottle of red wine, Cass."

"It's a 1982. That's older than me! And it says 'rouge'… I consider that pretty fancy. But then again, I'm not the famous Harry Styles. I usually just go for the cheap Zinfandel or a pink Moscato." Cassidy giggles, looking up from the bottle in her hand to find Harry lacking the amusement that she herself is finding in her statement.

"Oh I'm aware." He replies, rolling his eyes in a very sarcastic nature.

"But maybe this pinot will wash away your 'grumpy old man' mood…"

Harry's gaze shoots up from his task, displaying wide eyes, as if he hadn't been clueless of his previous, serious expression, or the sourness in his tone. Although, she is almost positive that he knows.

"What?"

Cassidy scoffs out a laugh and shakes her head, choosing to move past his clear pout over her beverage commentary.

"Nothing. I just think you should save this one for another time. A better occasion."

He shrugs. Simply shrugs, and arranges the final few strawberries with the other fruits, as Cassidy finds a less extravagant wine for the both of them to consume. One that is more relatable to her more normal lifestyle.

"Shall we?" He asks, nodding in the direction of beautiful back doors, leading out to an even more beautiful backyard.

Cassidy grabs the glasses and they exit, each finding a comfortable spot on his patio furniture, both close enough to the outside table and within reach of the lovely food spread he has created.

"So, catch me up. What's… what's new in your life?" Harry asks, taking his glass and then a sip of wine, seemingly hiding his expectant expression, though failing to keep it from Cassidy.

"Well, considering we saw each other yesterday…" She giggles mildy. "Nothing."

"Right." He scoffs within a chuckle of his own. "But it wasn't much of a conversation, and I have been away…"

"We also talked multiple times a week, you pest. Besides not actually being around, and considering we couldn't do much anyway, you didn't miss anything."

"Don't know, it feels like I did." He mumbles. "With… with everyone."

Her gaze flickers over to him, noticing the way he has begun to run his teeth along his bottom lip, staring out to the backyard view.

"I bet it feels good to finally be back home then, yeah?"

"It does. Yes." He utters in response, a quietness that feels a little surprising to Cassidy, considering how desperate he seemed to leave Los Angeles and return to London. "I won't be able to settle in too much though."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I'm… I'm actually headed to Italy soon."

"That sounds amazing! How soon?"

"Umm…" He runs his fingers through his hair and his gaze drops as he swirls the beverage around in his glass. "I'm leaving next week."

"Next week?" She exclaims, turning to face him completely. "Wow. I feel like you just got back home."

"I know." He softly states, giving nothing more than that simple response.

"What are you going for?" She feels her brow furrow slightly, the expression caused by the confusion she feels throughout herself. However, she lightens her features, even if just to ease her own mind. "Finding even more pretentious wine?"

"Of course." He replies with a simple smile, very unlike his usual grin, or smirk. "And, umm, I guess to also figure out what I want to do next. Maybe write a song or two, if inspiration strikes."

"And you can't do that here? At home?"

"I need a clear head. Free from distractions."

The confusion grows and a worry begins to build alongside it, though she isn't quite sure why. He's a grown man. He can do whatever and go wherever he wants to, it doesn't affect or involve her in any way. Except that, to an extent, it does.

She looks over to Cecelia, who is completely comfortable at Harry's home, and completely content digging around in the garden outside.

Her gaze quickly shoots down to her fingers as they begin to fidget with the stem of her wine glass, then slowly moves back over to him.

A realization falls over her. She's a bit sad. For Cecelia, who just got her best friend back, but also for herself. She just got her friend back too. Her other best friend. Now he's headed off again, and another realization hits her. Their lives are so different. As much as she sees him as the Harry she knew as a kid, he is not just that. And for the first time since they became friends, she worries that it could change things. Change what they now have.

"Right." She utters, still caught up in her thoughts. "Free from distractions."

Series Masterlist

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[jpriest85-blog]

(cue Nasira's Spidey-sense going off)

Samira, concerned: Habibti (darling) are you okay? You're shivering really bad, are you feeling sick?

Nasira: Oh, ah I'm just feeling a bit cold. I'm going to head back upstairs to grab a jacket real quick. You head on out, I'll meet up with you later.

Samira, with Mom BS sense going off: Just don't take too long. You've been so absent-minded lately I'm worried. You've been running late and forgetting appointments without so much as a call or text. You were so responsible when you were still in school...

Nasira: No, no! Wallah (I swear by God), I'm just going to grab my jacket, and head straight out.

Cut to Nasira pulling on Spider-woman costume while climbing out a window: This better be something quick like a robbery. If I got to fight another super villain in city traffic, and show up late. Mama's going to be so pissed!!

After watching Across the Spider-verse with my family, I've been inspired to create my own Spider-verse oc/spider-sona. Introducing Nasira bint Asim Najjar aka the Amazing Spider-woman, aspiring Palestinian-American Archetect by day webslinging superhero of New York by night. She's intelligent and driven, but like most superheroes, she has trouble balancing her Spider-woman identity with her family obligations and internship at an architectural firm. Her dating life is nonexistent, other than attempts at matching making by well-intentioned but nosey relatives. Who's got time for that?! Nasira wants to start her own Archetect firm and make safe, affordable housing for NYCs rapidly increasing homeless population before she's 45! She doesn't have time to worry about dating or acknowledging the complicated feelings she's developing around her two dearest friends, MJ and Harry, or why certain villains she encounters leave her flustered like Black Cat, and this new Green Goblin acting like he's got an obsessive crush on her!

I've included traditional Tatreez embroidery onto her costume, and the pattern on her hijab is inspired by mosaics found at Hisham's Palace in Jericho.

I've also created concept doodles of iconic webslinging poses and a little chibi version of her in a hard hat and vest mimicking those little construction site figures you see on safety signs. I've also included little concept portraits of her parents and friends.

Asim Najjar, Nasira' Baba (dad) he was a construction worker who often took his daughter on tours of his construction site when she was little. Helped inspire her desire to become an architect. Tragically died when he and another construction worker, Flint Marco, were building an expansion to a laboratory and accidently learned about some shady experiments the scientists were performing. So, an accident was staged to keep them both quiet, but Flint survived and became The Sandman.

Prof. Samira Najjar, Nasira's Mama, and a teacher who works at a prestigious private school in New York. Samira got her current job when Nasira turned 13 and transferred her daughter to the private school. It would offer her a better education, and Samira's position as faculty means they can get a much needed reduction on tuition. Nasira had a hard time fitting in at first. Unlike the rest of her classmates, she was raised in a working class family, and her mommy is a teacher. Until she befriended Harry Osborn, he was also picked on a lot, and they shared similar interests. Samira has been worried about Nasira's changed behavior recently. At first, she thought it was Nasira grieving after Asim's death. Samira herself was also a mess for months after the funeral. It wasn't unreasonable for her normally responsible daughter to start showing up late or even forgetting appointments... but still something is off. Nasira's keeping secrets and even lying to her, and whatever is going on, even MJ has been keeping things from her as well.

Mojdeh "MJ" Mahri, Nasira's BFF, MJ is a redhead Iranian American girl whose family attend the same mosque as Nasira's, and they've been friends ever since they were 7 years old. MJ eventually starts working as an investigation blogger for The Daily Bugel and helps Nasira investigate the truth about her father's "accidental death" when the facts don't add up. During this investigation at the accident site, Nasira accidentally knocked over a terrarium containing an experimental spider, and the rest is history. MJ is one of the few people who knows Nasira's secret identity and helps her endeavor as Spider-woman, with her journalist connections. As well as trying to counter act her boss, J. Jonah Jameson's bias against Spider-woman when she can.

Harry Osborn, Nasira's school friend and Oscorp heir. Harry never had many close friends until Nasira transferred to the private school they both graduated from. They both shared similar interests and her mother, Prof. Najjar taught his favorite class. They grew close over the years, especially since Nasira's family treated Harry better than his own distant and domineering father. A few of their classmates and even MJ would ask if Harry and Nasira were dating, but they both denied it repeatedly. They're just friends! Although after high school, Harry started dating women that greatly resembled Nasira: tall, with dark hair, very career driven and intelligent. Nasira is the only one who hasn't noticed this pattern to Harry's love life. She just assumed he has a thing for Amal Clooney! Harry hasn't said anything out loud about his feelings, but the fact that his friendship with Nasira is the only functional relationship in his life is telling.

Norman Osborn, Harry's father and CEO of Oscorp. Norman and Harry have had a very strained relationship. He expects a lot from his son and worries that Harry doesn't have the stomach to do what's necessary to make the company successful after he's retired. After all, you don't become as wealthy and powerful as Norman Osborn without doing unsavory things to ensure success. Although he's noticed his son has become more serious and hardworking since he's befriended Nasira Najjar. In addition to having a good influence on Harry, Nasira is a very driven and intelligent young lady herself, if a bit idealistic. Still, Norman prefers her to the other girls his son used to date and would often half "jokingly" ask them both when Harry will make Nasira his new daughter in law. Of course, they're both very embarrassed and uncomfortable whenever Norman makes those kinds of jokes. Sure, they insist they're just friends for now, but Norman is willing to bet money, Nasira will probably wind up his son's 2nd wife in 20 years. Don't think too much about what might happen to your hypothetical 1st wife Harry. It's nothing the police can prove anyway...what?! He's joking, of course! Although it is a shame her father was involved in that tragic "accident." Norman genuinely felt bad about that, but he couldn't risk it getting out that his company was secretly connected to the lab they were expanding. It would have stayed secret too if Filnt Marco had also died instead of getting mutated and getting that meddling Spider-woman involved. Sure, she's been useful, especially when she saved Harry when he was targeted by one of his many enemies, but he can't risk Spider-woman connecting Oscorp to those experiments!

[tinandabin]

Hi, I urgently need yandere Muichiro Giyuu and Rengoku (Separated) with a tsukugo reader who pushed her yandere to sacrifice herself and an oni ends up attacking her. But does she survive in the end?

w̦̺̐̐͟ḣ̖̻͛̓o̯̱̊͊͢ ḑ̴̞͛̒o̯̱̊͊͢ y҉̃̀̋̑ư̡͕̭̇o̯̱̊͊͢ t̲̂̓ͩ̑ḣ̖̻͛̓ỉ͔͖̜͌ḳ̯͍̑ͦṇ̤͛̒̍ ư̡͕̭̇ ẹ̿͋̒̕r̴̨̦͕̝ t̲̂̓ͩ̑o̯̱̊͊͢ o̯̱̊͊͢r̴̨̦͕̝ḑ̴̞͛̒ẹ̿͋̒̕r̴̨̦͕̝ẹ̿͋̒̕r̴̨̦͕̝ ḿ̬̏ͤͅè ā̤̓̍͘r̴̨̦͕̝o̯̱̊͊͢ư̡͕̭̇ṇ̤͛̒̍ḑ̴̞͛̒

here u go!! I hope u like this. C:

Muichiro-

Now, student and teacher relationships are considered....idk?? Pedo?? But well, there is not much age difference in both of you but it still is inappropriate.

But Muichiro does not give a fuck.

Would relentlessly train you so you can be strong and not die but would also rather cuddle you. Ends up doing nothing and takes a nap with you.

Still, he does train you.

And so he is sent on a mission and he takes you with him so he can first off, flex his strength, and second, to see if you are capable enough to protect yourself, and third, so he can spend more time with you.

All those reasons are bullshit except for the third and first one.

And well, Muichiro was in a daze as a demon was like in front of his eyes. Baring it's fangs.

I kid you not, the demon was so annoyed that Muichiro wasn't fazed at all. A KID. IS NOT. SCARED. OF. IT.

Can you see how insulting that is to a man-eating demon?

The demon too does not give a fuck that Muichiro is very powerful.

All the while Muichiro was thinking like when you both should have another nap and how can he make you stay with him forever. Even in death.

So the demon goes to attack Muichiro.

Muichiro originally was gonna sidestep the demon but sadly, you didn't think that he was gonna do it.

And what more honourable way to die by saving your master?

And so the demon ends up biting your neck.

Muichiro was still in a daze even when you pushed him. When he smelt blood, your blood, he snapped out of it.

Blood was rapidly pouring out your neck and you were gonna die any second now.

His breaths became shorter and he felt like he was going to faint, it felt like he was the one dying, not you.

His eyes became watery, and he literally cried.

There come the swears.

"You shitfucking ratty asshole. I will send you to hell and come there myself you rotten fuckface. How dare you hurt my beloved one, slimy ASS CLOWN. YOU INSECURE PRICK BLOSSUM."

He tortures the demon badly. He knows he can't save you now because life has already left your eyes.

After that incident, he seems to indulge in daydreams more often. In a world, where you both are alive and happy together.

Now whenever he sees a demon rather than getting the job done quickly, he takes his time torturing them.

"The peony symbolises love, honour, happiness, wealth, romance, and beauty. It fits you perfectly, darling." ~Tokito Muichiro

Giyuu--

Honestly, him letting you go on a mission, and even letting you out of his estate? Where's the Oscar.

Taking you on a mission with him puts him more at ease than him letting you stay home alone or go on a mission alone.

He always has a reason to make you be in his view 24/7. Literally. Don't test him.

He would be gentle with you when training.

If you get even a bit tired, it's okay, you can go take a nap and then bath while he is cooking your favourite food.

You think of him as a parent. LMAO, I CANT.

You THINK OF HIM AS A PARENT WHILE HE IS THERE GETTING YOUR WEDDING RINGS READY BAHAHAHHA.

And when you do admit you think of him as a parent, goddamnit he is so offended and immediately starts taking himself out of the parent zone to friend zone.

Because in friendzone he might have a chance.

"NO NO, I could NEVER replace your PARENTS. Please, think of ME only as a FRIEND for NOW." He is so worried about being your parent that you are now the offended one.

But alright, he takes you on a mission with him. There are two demons.

Giyuu was gonna send you back when you said I will take that demon as you got ready to fight leaving no room for him to argue.

He finishes off the demon he was told to kill by you and comes towards you to only see you injured. It's not even severe. As a demon slayer that is.

It's just that you are a bit limping and there's a bruise on your arm.

And Giyuu is so angry he literally finishes off the demon faster than Muzan ever could.

Now, I would have killed you in this Giyuu one but it seems as to that wouldn't be good for Giyuu. I mean, the same goes for Muichiro but hahah-

After that, you cannot go out at all. He also has a breathing mask, y'know....just in case.

Enjoy the rest of your locked-up life.

"You love me, I love you. This is our happy ending, tulip."

Kyojuro--

Let's say that Senjuro had a friend who's older sister, which was you, had heard about demon slayers and wanted to be one.

And Kyojuro takes an instant liking to you and takes you in as his Tsukugou!

So you train under him for a long while after you join the demon slayer corps.

Well, you both go on missions together everytime because Kyojuro doesn't trust you to take care of yourself at all.

And you know what? I'm gonna make it a bit sad. Or I hope so.

You both go on the mugen train mission.

And you both are fighting upper rank 3 and well, Akaza doesn't fight/kill women so he is mostly dodging and ignoring you all the while intent on killing Kyojuro.

So when he is about to punch him through the stomach, you push him out of the way and well, Akaza kind of killed you.

And Akaza is HORRIFIED. HE KILLED A WOMAN. A WOMEN.

AND HE IS SCREAMING IN YOUR FACE TO SAY THAT YOU WILL BECOME A DEMON BECAUSE HE CAN NOT KILL A WOMAN!!!

All the while, Kyojuro is just frozen and then the sunlight comes and without any trouble of pulling his hand out of your stomach, Akaza very regretfully runs away.

And Tanjiro does his part of hinokami kagura and stuff.

Then you can see Kyojuro holding your lifeless body as he emotionlessly stares at you.

He picks up his sword and stabs himself in the heart.

Mhm. He kills himself to be with you.

If he didn't do that I feel like he would end up like Shinobu. All fake cheery and mocking and with bloodlust to kill Akaza.

"I can't live without you, please, stay with me." ~ Kyojuro Rengoku.

MASTERLIST

[superstition13]

So I have a University assignment due at midnight, which I have absolutely zero motivation to do, but it did inspire this little piece.

Distractions

//AKA Dabi Distracts You From Your Work 💙

Dabi x Female Reader (NSFW)

Genre: smut, porn with very little plot involved, fluff

Includes: biting, unprotected sex, hair pulling, cock warming, teasing, pet names, fingering, crying (pleasure), after care, Dabi’s piercings

You can’t tell me that Dabi isn’t the type of guy who would gladly use sex as a means of distracting you from your work

Especially if he feels as though you’re paying too much attention to it and not him

And if you’re a university student, he would definitely fuck your brains out instead of letting you finish an assignment that he knew you had due

Maybe you make the mistake of letting him sit in your desk chair while you sit on his lap, so at least you can be close to him

He’d start off with his chin resting on his shoulder and his arms wrapped loosely around your waist, but it wouldn’t take long for his hands to begin to wander

One hand would drift down to your inner thigh, and begin tracing feather light patterns along the exposed skin he found there with the tips of his fingers, teasingly close to where you really want him to touch you

Meanwhile, his other hand has slipped under your shirt and is now toying with your nipples

And while all this is going on, you’re still desperately trying your best to concentrate, but it’s becoming increasingly harder for you to focus on typing out an essay when your boyfriend’s hands are doing sinful things to your body

It’s when he starts trailing his lips along your neck, nipping, sucking, and leaving tiny bruises behind that you give in to his touches

Dabi’s hand leaves its place on your thigh and his thumb hooks around the waist band of the skimpy pair of gym shorts you’d decided to wear around the house that day

You raise your hips, just enough for him to slide them down to your knees, where they fall and drop to the floor

He pops open the button on his jeans, and you swear you can feel yourself getting just that little bit wetter at the loud sound his zipper makes in the otherwise quiet apartment

His hands go to your hips, and he lowers you onto his achingly hard cock

A small gasp escapes your lips, you’d been careful not to brush up against his dick while you were working, not wanting to encourage Dabi’s teasing

You’d known he was horny, obviously, but you hadn’t realised how hard he truly was

The two of you moan when he’s fully sheathed inside your heat

You expect him to start bouncing you up and down on his cock, but when he doesn’t you figure he wants you to be the one taking charge

Instead, his hands tighten around you warningly, and he keeps you seated firmly in his lap

“Don’t you have something to do, princess?”

“But I thought-”

“You thought wrong angel.”

You can practically hear the smirk in his voice, knowing full well that if you turn your head to look at him, you’ll see one on his face

“Consider this your punishment for ignoring me.”

Part of you can’t believe Dabi is making you finish your assignment instead of fucking you, especially when his cock is buried inside you

Another part of you can totally believe it, knowing all too well what a tease your boyfriend can be

He sits back and begins drawing lazy circles around your throbbing clit

Somehow, you manage to type out a paragraph, and you think that maybe you can do this

Until Dabi decides to flex beneath you, the seemingly innocent movement making his dick twitch inside of you, driving you crazy from the stimulation

You could have tears rolling down your cheeks as you beg him to bend you over your desk and just fuck you already

Instead, he’d have the audacity to coo softly in your ear:

“Come on baby girl, I thought you needed to concentrate?”

But the moment you finish that assignment and submit it to your Professor, he’s pulling out of you and standing up so fast that the chair he’d been sitting on falls over backwards

He quickly manages to get rid of the few articles of clothing the two of you have left between you

Before you know it, Dabi has you bent over the desk, one hand tangled in your hair and the other at your hip in a grip so tight that it's bound to leave bruises. He thrusts into you rapidly, setting a brutal pace. The sounds of skin on skin slapping together, and the obscene noise your cunt makes as he fucks into you fills the air of the studio apartment you share with him.

It takes an embarrassingly short amount of time for you to cum around Dabi’s cock, already pent up and overflowing from almost an hour's worth of Dabi teasing you. Your thighs are glistening as you let go, screaming his name so loudly that your neighbours are sure to file another noise complaint against the two of you come the evening. He releases his grip on your hair, trailing his fingers down your body until they rest between your thighs, and begin to draw circles around your clit once more. Gone are the slow, teasing touches from earlier his only focus is on making you scream out his name out for a second time before he cums. Dabi leans forward, his chest pressing flush against yours back, practically laying on top of you as he rails you without mercy. You realise that you can feel the cold metal of his nipple piercings pressing into your back, and the mental image it conjures makes you clench around him. Dabi lets out a soft groan, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“Fuck sweetheart, you have no idea how good you feel wrapped around me,” he pants, his voice breathy as it caresses your neck. “So good and tight for me, fuck. Come again angel, one more time, I wanna hear you scream my name.”

“God Dabi, yes! Yes! Yes!” You whine, trailing off into a hiss at one particularly hard thrust. “Right there baby, I’m so close, fuck!”

Without missing a beat, he shifts himself slightly, angling his cock in a way that Dabi knew would have you seeing stars and hurtling over that precipice you were dangling from. You were convinced you could feel the tip of him pounding against your cervix, dragging deliciously against your walls in all his pierced glory as he brushed past that sweet spot hidden inside of you with each and every punishing thrust. This new angle, abusing your g-spot while his fingers danced over clit, your nipples being teased as they were dragged and pushed across the surface of your desk; All of it was proving to be too much for you. That coil deep inside of you winding tighter and tighter, rendering you all but incoherent. Your tipping point however, was when your boyfriend sunk his teeth into the junction of your shoulder and neck. It wasn't quite hard enough to break the skin, but you knew without a doubt that he would leave one hell of a mark. The pain from his teeth sends pleasure arcing through your body like waves of electricity, going straight to your pussy, causing that tightly wound coil to snap as you threw yourself from the edge you had been hanging onto for dear life.

"Fuck Dabi, I'm coming, FUCK!" You sobbed, cheeks feeling suspiciously wet. The way your pussy fluttered around him was exactly what Dabi needed to find his own release, his pace becoming more and more erratic as he continued to thrust into you, working you both through the shared orgasm. Your name left Dabi’s mouth in a loud moan that was practically pornographic. He came inside of you, painting your walls with his seed, your combined release already beginning to seep out of you from the sheer amount of cum he was pumping into your cunt.

Eventually, his thrusts come to a halt. Your face was pressed uncomfortably against your desk, and you were pretty sure there was a pen trapped beneath you, but at that moment you didn't quite have it in yourself to care. Your mind was pleasantly fogged over from the post orgasm haze, and had someone asked for your name in that given moment, it probably would have taken you a few minutes to recall.

The first thing you became aware of, was Dabi pressing a series of gentle kisses to your neck, paying particular attention to the large bite mark he had left in the heat of the moment. It throbbed slightly, but not unpleasantly so, soothed by the delicate pressure of his lips. Slowly, he pulled out, a small noise of displeasure escaping you at the sudden emptiness you felt with the absence of his cock. He pulled you up, and guided you gently over to the bed where the two of you collapsed together. His arms encircled your waist, gathering you up against his chest. Fingers began to play with your hair as your awareness slowly began to return, Dabi's lips now pressed gently to the top of your head.

"That was..." you trailed off, still slightly breathless.

"Yeah." He agreed, tracing patterns along your skin.

"I'm going to need a shower," you winced, feeling his cum already beginning to dry on you. You already dreaded the idea of getting up to leave the bed, knowing that by the time you did, your limbs would be feeling like jelly and there would surely be an ache settled between your thighs.

"Not yet," your boyfriend breathed. "I'll get up and get us a towel in a minute. Just, lie here with me for now, okay?"

"Okay," you murmured against him, not needing too much convincing.

"Maybe I should help you with your work more often, princess," he suggested, but was met with no reply. Dabi craned his neck to look down at you, only to realise that you had managed to fall asleep in his embrace.

Here’s that tag you asked for lovely, hope you enjoyed my first attempt at writing smut.

@simpforsadbois 💜

[tetsoorou]

fancy business shoes

♡ pairings: timeskip!kuroo tetsurou x gn!reader

♡ warnings: sfw, fluff ?, tiny bit of hurt/relationship trauma/very bleak opinion of love mentioned, kind of implied that reader used to be going through it w an unspecified mental illness

♡ wc: 860

♡ synopsis: you used to think love was stupid, but then you met kuroo. just a short lil drabble that kind of describes how you used to think, how you met him, and how he changed your mind.

♡ a/n: ok so i was coming up empty on where to go with another wip, decided to start on a different one, intentions of writing a spicy lil fic w my boy kuroo here, and then 30 min later this happened ??? no idea what this !!

life with kuroo is easy.

it’s easy and fun and full of life and love and jokes so bad, they’re good. full of laughing until you’re crying at three in the morning on the kitchen floor, and watching the sun rise in his eyes between hushed whispers of “you’re such a dork” (“i love you”) on a weekday because you got so lost in the way he talks about the things he loves, that one hour turned into four which quickly turned into eight.

loving him comes so naturally, you swear the only reason you were put on this earth was to love him for the rest of your lives and then some.

before kuroo, you thought the idea of soulmates – of love – was stupid; something made up to give lonely people enough hope to grab onto to make it through the night. just a notion to make the unbearable weight of life feel light enough to will yourself out of bed in the morning.

you thought by not believing in love you were better than those “poor fools” who had been cruelly tricked into believing its existence. at least you weren’t deluded by some false pretense that there was someone out there made just for you, and you them, right? how arrogant must they be to believe such a thing?

it’s not that you hadn’t experienced love before – oh, no, you certainly had. but it was nothing like what all the movies and books and disgustingly-in-love old married couples told you.

it was hard. it was full of pain and sorrow and hate – what you once thought was the opposite of love quickly became synonymous with it. all those stupid tales about how love is so beautiful and all-encompassing made you produce a sound that sounded exactly like a laugh, but was far too hollow and devoid of joy to call it such.

that was what you truly believed until one particular rainy day in university – the very first day in the last year of what was supposed to be the “best four years of your life” – though, “best four years of your life” is far from what you’d use to describe it.

it had been raining nonstop that day – something you normally wouldn’t mind – save for the fact that the buses weren’t running because you unfortunately secured the worst lab section you’d ever had the displeasure of taking. not only was it three hours long and started so late that the buses were already shut down, but it was also on the opposite side of campus, and you had ten minutes between classes to make the twenty-minute walk to get there.

so by the time you showed up – late of course – you were drenched, shivering, and grumbling about the grim state of life under your breath between little gasps for air. and as if life heard your grumbling and was hell-bent on getting the last laugh; the door was locked.

before you could shout expletives into the empty corridor, a tall, gangly man with incredibly messy hair – somehow, even though it was soaking wet, it still stuck out in every direction – came noisily burling around the corner, mere centimeters away from knocking you over. his jacket was falling off his shoulder and his chest was rising and falling rapidly from sprinting up the stairs, pathetically limp notebook in one hand - probably from trying to use it to shield his head from the rain, albeit unsuccessfully.

he looked like he was having just as terrible a day as you.

“locked, huh?” he had said, and when you nodded in confirmation he actually laughed. to this day, you have no idea why or what he was laughing at. perhaps it was just one of those times where the only thing you could do was laugh; the best alternative to crying.

but nonetheless, his laugh boomed and echoed through the silent, empty hallway of the building (and also your heart) - a little loud and a tad obnoxious, but also contagious. and for the first time in a long time, you laughed too. a real laugh.

that’s when you knew, and as they say, “the rest is history.”

you’re still not sure if you believe in soulmates – the concept seems silly, though kuroo would argue and insist you’re just being pessimistic, gesturing between the two of you as if to say “of course they do. we’re proof, duh.” – but you do believe in love.

love in the form of keen eyes that always seem to be glimmering with a touch of mischief and disheveled black hair that has never learned to lie flat. love in the form of a smirk that never quite seems to completely fade and a laugh so boisterous it could stir the stillest of hearts.

love in the form of fancy business shoes, little gifts that just “reminded him of you,” and an old, but in pristine condition, number one jersey pushed to the back of your shared closet – a testament to the careful way he loves and the kindness he extends to everyone he meets.

love in the form of a man named kuroo tetsurou.

[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!”

[nameless-shrimp]

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐒 — KEISUKE BAJI ♡

↳ PAIRING: Keisuke Baji x GN! Reader

↳ TYPE: one-shot

↳ WORD COUNT: 4.1k

↳ WARNINGS: heavy swearing, extreme fluff/comfort, a lot of grammar errors

↳ SYNOPSIS: Baji has a secret crush on you, and despite how many times he had tried to hint it at you, it seemed like you were a bit oblivious to his flirtatious acts. However, one night, he decides to go out for a bike ride with you to somewhere special... hopefully to confess how he feels.

↳ AUTHOR’S NOTES: i am a sucker for tokyo revengers boys acting so soft and sweet to you, hehe. i really hope you enjoyed this, along with the song as well. this is one of my favorites, and it makes me feel at peace. i hope you enjoy the fic and the song as well. <3

When he needed you, nothing else mattered in the world.

Rather, you became a part of his life quickly, expanding your walls to him where he was able to inhale the familiar scents of your body—sweet scent of cherry blossoms were enough to indulge Baji in a dazed, lovesick high.

He never argued to the feelings, only found himself to be more needy as the moon settled each night, and he encountered your typical frustrations of him being all bloodied in black and blues. However, Baji became amused by it, nonetheless; wanting a more open desire for his heart to fill in the little bit of void that not even cars being set on fire could ease.

“You’re in love,” Chifuyu called him out on it a week ago. Baji spat at him, nearly dodging the bullet when your presence was right around the corner of the school building. Mikey noted that Baji was head over the moon; touch-starved. Always wanting his arms to protectively wrap around your waist in a greedy standpoint. A gambler winning at every game.

Only, the case was that Baji became infatuated—and the three words he yearned to say would sting his throat. ‘The right time,’ he’d always think.

We’ll do it all

Everything

On our own

The clock ticks past nine at night—luckily, on a Friday, where the streets were more wild than usual. Convenience store lights flickered from afar, Baji watched the cars roar down below. He kept the window open, allowing the breeze to trickle through his skin.

Scent of freshly lit cigarettes weren’t uncommon for him. He pouted, nearly dipping his head down on the pillow before boredom could take over his shoulders. Though Baji knew that he had missed sleep for some time. The night was peaceful; still. Yet it was a prison for some, to be trapped within the dark. A fucking hell, sometimes, even for him, when Baji had been tossing and turning the night before.

Draken lectured him about Baji’s confession to you. A strong friendship you two had, even though he threw subtle flirting here and there, and even accompanied you more often than he’d do with his friends. His mind wandered elsewhere, always pondering about the ‘what if’s and what possibly could happen if such words were said from his mouth.

Baji typically did not worry so much. More so, he’d rather chuck out a “fuck it” from his lips and toothy grin, but with you, he felt different. These feelings were new—emotional, and a whirlwind for him. A hurricane hitting the edge of night such as the moment he was experiencing, with tobacco arousing the air and the honking of cars that were starting to aggravate him.

He watched his phone flicker from the desk and he jolted to it immediately, watching your name pop up in the notifications. ‘You’re up, right? :)’ it read, and God. A fucking lovely dovey bastard, he was. Baji’s grin grew in an instant, where he took the phone in his hands. The dancing wind trails into his bedroom quickly; tongue nearly tasting the tip of tobacco and half-lit cigarettes from the bars down the street. He was lost in fulfillment; the edge of excitement and the start of a lovestruck high.

‘Night drive on my bike?’ He texted, fingers moving rapidly on the screen.

His smile doesn’t fade.

We don’t need

Anything

Or anyone

Baji always recalled that the world spun slowly, but it happened to freeze in a moment in time with your presence around. As if you were the magic touch to his life. He could’ve sworn he was crazy—insane, almost. A young boy who was so immersed with the touch of another that could possibly not share the same feelings back—maybe that was silly. Though Baji never gave two damns, or in this case, a big fuck, for that matter. At least you were alive; breathing. Cherishing smiles with one another.

He waited outside of your house, snickering while you snuck your way out of the bedroom window. Typical of you to commit such crimes under the rules of your parents. A ‘baddie’, he’d call you, only to be earned with a smack on his shoulder as a reward. A playful act from you. Even Baji found amusement in it.

“It’s late, isn’t it?” You said, wrapping a thin blanket around your figure.

Baji smirked, leaning on his bike. ‘Act cool... or just be calm,’ he thought, slowly fading his lips into a bright grin. He shook his head, patting on the empty seat behind him. The wind was steady; sweet moon singing its gentle lullabies across the navy blue.

“I missed you,” he said, cocking his head.

You blinked. “We just saw each other at school today. And you miss me already?”

“How could I not?” He chuckled. “It’s you, of course.”

‘Are you getting the hint?’ he pursed his lips at his mental thought.

“Guess that means our friendship is really something special, huh?” You laughed, throwing your head back.

Sighing, Baji nodded. Typical of you to react that way. Part of him wondered if that was your hint right back at him to portray your loss of interest in him romantically. Perhaps that was the case, and Baji was being a dumb fuck—at least, he’d call himself that sometimes, when he didn’t act so stubborn on his own part. The night was young, again, a prison to his mind; thoughts behind bars, but Baji remained his cool.

Or he tried to.

He forced a smile, patting the empty seat once again. “Hop on. I wanna go for a drive.”

“Where are you going to take me?” You asked, tilting your head.

“It’s a surprise,” he responded.

“Oh, so you’re not gonna tell me?” Laughing in response, you nodded. “You might end up killing me in the forest for all I know.”

Baji furrowed his eyebrows. “As if I’d ever do something stupid like that.”

“You already do pretty dumb things like get yourself in endless fights and—”

“Okay, okay,” Baji interrupted, waving a hand. He snickered aimlessly. “Are you going to stand there and roast me all night?”

You smiled. “It’s no different from how I am at school, right?”

His lips tightened. ‘When you look like that… shit,’ he swore in his head mentally before clearing his throat.

Baji felt your body jump on the bike, causing his breath to hitch. He continuously told himself to calm down, like. Seriously. ‘Calm the fuck down.’ As much as he didn’t want to admit it, your words remained true to his ears—it was no different from how you acted in school. Witty responses and cheeky smiles—the one where your tongue stuck out between your teeth kind of thing—and Baji loved it all about you.

At least, he knew how to keep his feelings hidden; a secret tucked within his chest; hidden scripts beneath the moonlight—the night wind rings once more.

If I lay here

If I just lay here

Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Around the fresh hit of ten-thirty at night, Baji recognized that the world around him began to suffocate him in an unpleasurable way imaginable. It was an odd type of feeling; a large heaviness encircled him, where he gripped the handles of the bike tighter than before. What really kept him at bay was your laughter soaring through the air—humming street lights shimmering from up above, to be the remaining illumination across the splatters of constellations that began to flicker across the dead of night.

He recalled a short moment not too long ago—from the past week—that Mitsuya talked to him about opening up about his feelings properly, rather than throwing hints everywhere from the tight hugs and the quick reassurance of him popping at your front door. “So fucking clingy, man,” Mitsuya laughed at him for it. Baji held back a punch at his friend’s pretty face; he recently dyed his lavender hair, so Baji wanted to be nice for a bit.

Not that Baji would have ever laid a hand viciously on his closest friends, let alone his truest members in Toman. Let alone you. With your dangerous smile that always caused his heart to rise above shore; barely sinking beneath the sea of his smitten emotions—that was enough for him to act more irritated than usual. He didn’t blame you for being dense; partially, but Baji could’ve sworn it would’ve been better as friends, anyway.

He drove on, recalling that his own world was approaching too close in his own head. Though your arms around his waist tightened, causing time to slow down for a short moment. Baji smiled, kissing the night breeze that was striking his ponytail in waves; strands tickling the back of his neck. You. Just—you. Everything about your presence was enough to recall that nothing else mattered in the world. Just you.

He fought back an exhale, thinking about the nearest exit to take to get to the destination he hoped to reach right in time when the night remained young to both of your childish hearts. There was nothing else in this world to him now, not even the passing by cars that swept past his ears.

Hoping that one getaway could only keep him and you together—even if not meant to be as soulmates bound together with each other’s heartstrings; a growth of friendship was enough for him to find acceptance in at some point.

“Hey, are you sure you know where you’re going?” You called out, gripping on him tighter.

He grinned, nodding once. “Of course I do. I’m trying to kill you tonight.”

“No weapons?” Baji practically pictured you pout in his head. Cute. You let out a playful groan. “And you even said you wouldn’t do such a thing to me, what happened?”

“Shit, well, I change my mind a lot,” he said out loud, huffing out a laugh. “Thought you knew that.”

“Nooo,” your voice trailed out. “Not at all.”

“You’re funny,” he quipped playfully, looking back at you with one glance. “And cute when you hold onto me like this.”

You shake your head, sighing. “Well, if I’m just gonna get murdered by you tonight, then I probably should let go—”

“Don’t even think about it, crazy.”

“Says the mass murderer himself. Planning to kill all of Toman too?”

“Hilarious.”

“I aim to please.”

‘You really do,’ Baji thought.

I don’t quite know

How to say

How I feel

Near the edge of the city lies a large open field with mass hills, perfectly shaped for the view of watching the stars dance with one another. Baji took you there, with a greedy smile and prideful stance in his heart, but he also held back at the same time. Your exhausted face planted against his back during the bike ride got his mind to wander elsewhere. Damn. The emotions you took him on—an exciting adrenaline rush that he had always yearned the spark for yet at some point, Keisuke Baji wasn’t all the man he bestowed to be.

A gang member; violent to his bones. Also, a stubborn asshole who had a bit of a temper problem. Heart soft for kittens despite the bits of his enemy’s blood tattered across his knuckles. At some point, Baji wondered if he had been the right person for you—at least, much to his perspective, despite the look of a confident man, he felt so endearing to you—so soft. An opposite from his usual nature. He liked it but questioned it a bit too much.

He turned into the parking lot, mentally wondering why there weren’t that many people on a Friday night. Then again, he kept himself quiet—and thanked God for giving him a precious moment in time where he can find peace with you. His chance. Baji had given himself an opportunity; his walls were structured, but the gate was wide open—only for you to hear his true words.

“Everything looks so peaceful,” you yawned. He parked the bike, gazing down at the swaying grass in front of him. ‘Fuck, can I do this?’ he thought before whipping his head to face you.

“Sure, s’cause you’re here,” Baji grinned; toothy fangs making him look cheeky. “I wouldn’t want to be here with anyone else.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“Am not.”

“Sure.”

“Hold my hand,” Baji said, laying his hand on yours. Your widened eyes caused him to startle on his breath for a split second, forgetting what reality was for that frozen moment in time. He smiled gently, eyes twinkling underneath the faint moonlight. “Let’s go stargazing.”

You blinked. “You drove all this way to go look at the stars?”

“Well, m’just a little bit of a romantic kind of guy,” Baji smiled, quickly getting off his bike before he grabbed hold of your waist to have you stand close to him. He wanted to tell you about his feelings, during the creep of the evening—lost words hissing like a vagrant cat. “Come on, don’t wanna leave me waiting, do you?”

Smiling, your forehead rested against his shoulder. Baji’s eyes widened, clearly caught off guard by your actions. “Maybe I do,” you responded. “Even just standing here with you makes me feel safe and happy.”

He closed his eyes, lips still pursed into a smile. “I adore you, Y/N. I really do…”

“Buuut!” Your voice echoed throughout the night. Baji could’ve sworn he heard a melody play across the world—the one that had stopped spinning for him. “Let’s go to the fields. You didn’t just drive all this way for nothing, right?”

You grabbed his hand, dragging him into the fields. Baji wailed out that you should’ve slowed down, but fuck it, seriously. At the given moment he had to witness your beaming grin from the sparkles of the night. All for where you two shouted out loud to each other. Voices echoed. Two exuberant souls jogging across the night.

Experiencing a memory with each other like no other—just this.

You.

Baji ached for his feelings to speak for themselves in such a way.

Those three words

Are said too much

They’re not enough

A mere simple three words shouldn’t have been so frightening yet Baji choked up on it several times. He recalled a memory where Mikey and Mitsuya watched him speak in front of his bedroom mirror; an actor rehearsing. They laughed at him, calling him ‘whipped’ for you already—and they were earned with shoes thrown to their heads but they didn’t seem to mind. (Of course not.)

The perfect words never really crossed Baji’s mind. All that swirled in his head was your presence, where he pictured scenarios of your hand tucked with his. Sharing laughter across the blinks of the morning to the farewell of the sun at its peak of the night.

From the boisterous boy he was, every ounce of him was screaming out the three words—enough to break the close friendship that he had with you—but the sound was trapped inside him. Nightly. Prisoner behind bars—once again.

Baji laid there on the grass with you, not minding the slight tickles on his back, and he turned his head to watch you talk about a childhood story—or something. He mentally cursed at himself for not paying attention, but he wandered on about debating if he should hold your hand one more time. Maybe ask you to sit up and listen to his words; an open speech of a perfectly laid-out confession that he rehearsed on repeat in his head.

‘Why is this so fucking hard?’ he thought, fighting back a scoff.

“Hey, Keisuke,” you called out his name, causing Baji to blink back to the present moment. Shit.

He cleared his throat. “What’s up?”

“Can I ask you something?”

He nodded. “Well, ‘course. What’s in that pretty little head of yours?”

“Sometimes, I like the idea of us hanging out like this.”

Baji smirked, raising a brow. “We hang out all the time, love. S’no different from any other time.”

“Well, yeah, but—” you blinked, whipping your head in his direction. “Did you just call me ‘love’?”

He gulped. Fucking hell. “No.”

“You did, didn’t you?”

“I obviously didn’t.”

You chuckled out loud. “I definitely heard you say that.”

“Shut it, Y/N, or else I will hit you.”

“Go ahead. Hit me.”

Baji groaned, placing a palm over his face. Only in hopes of hiding the faint pink tingling his cheeks. “M’kay, yeah. I did. Sorry. Don’t wanna make this shit more awkward than it needs to be.”

“You’re cute, Kei,” you laughed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “For someone like you, you seem to really have a huge soft spot sometimes.”

Baji pursed his lips. “Did you really have to call me out like that?”

Nodding, you grinned.

“Of course.”

If I lay here

If I just lay here

Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

“Say it.”

He watched you smile close to him, head dipped back into the grass. Baji thought about keeping you close to him—but he fought against the idea of pulling you into his chest. Even then, with you two underneath the belt of Orion and the moon singing to his heart, he felt himself shift in position. You always portrayed a soft month of welcomes, a reminder of orange and red leaves at the start of autumn from the season’s changing hues.

Calm. A fresh breeze of sweet serendipity. Baji adored it, wanted it, needed it—all of you. For it was a breath of air from all of the vexation and conflict he arose being in a gang. At least, like he always said to himself, when the world would stop for a moment in time with you, he’d forget all about it, because you’ve always been beautiful.

He’s on a hook for a long time. Being reeled into your touch. Waiting impatiently for the moment where he could find the right time to speak out the truest words to his heart.

You hummed, keeping your eyes closed. “I wanted to ask you something.”

Baji blinked, sighing. “Right, I got that. So say it, or are you gonna hide more secrets from me?”

“I’m not hiding anything from you.”

“M’kay, so spill.”

You exhaled deeply, shaking your head against the grass. “Do you ever think about a moment in time that feels so unreal that your mind just freezes for a few seconds?”

‘Fucking mind reader, maybe?’ Baji chuckled to his mental thought before clearing his throat. He looks up at the dark sky; stardust twinkling across his irises. Heart heavy in unspoken feelings. “Yeah, ‘course,” he responded. “All the time… especially with you.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Oh.” You said, smiling. Looking down, you reached for his hand, and his fingers twitched for a moment. Eventually, Baji allowed the moment to occur; letting it fall into a subspace of nothing but both of your souls gazing into the constellation of each other’s eyes. His heart bursted—overwhelmed with the build-up confidence for the intangible moment. “One more question.”

He grinned, gripping onto your hand harder. “Do tell.”

“If I just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world?”

Forget what we’re told

Before we get too old

Show me a garden that’s bursting into life

Without an answer in response, Baji sat up, pulling you close to him. Your nose lingered the scent of his cheap cologne; a type of perfume he used to ‘look cool’, or so you thought. Moon brightened up to its core of sweet Orions that danced above the two quiet souls beneath the navy’s horizon. Baji sighed deeply, taking in the moment before keeping you closer to his chest. Heaven. His mother consistently talked about the happy moments of an afterlife. Though he knew how paradise was once you inched your fingers across his waist, slowly wrapping into a tighter hug.

“You and me, ‘kay?” Baji whispered, close to your ears. “Let’s waste time chasing cars around our heads,” he chuckled, fiddling back to the memories of the late drives he took you on—only to have the excuse of keeping your body close to his. Unforgotten Polaroids dashed across his mind; cherishable momentos of the perfect existence in life that he always redeemed to call home. You.

I need your grace

To remind me

To find my own

“I have something to tell you.”

You gulped at his bold statement. “Sure. Talk to me.”

“I—” Baji shot his heart for a moment, quickly stopping before turning away. He sighed, dipping his head down to your shoulders, causing you to gasp in confusion.

“Hey, uh—”

“Don’t talk,” his head shook in frustration.

If I lay here

“You’re scaring me.”

“M’sorry,” Baji exhaled, hugging you tighter. “Just don’t wanna fuck this up.”

You pat his head, gently caressing the tousled strands of his hair. His posture softens at your touch before your nose paints the skin of his slightly exposed neck. Baji nearly choked on his breath, only to tighten his grasp on you. Almost as if one trip and you’d fall—not on his watch. Not ever. Like hell.

“I’m here, okay?” You said.

“I can’t fuck this up, seriously.”

“I’m going to stay.”

“Will you—please?”

If I just lay here

You nodded, pulling away from the hug. “I will always stay for you, Baji.”

Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Baji blinked in disbelief before chuckling underneath his breath inaudibly. Furrowing your eyebrows at him, he covered his mouth, attempting to hide the tint of pink twirling around his skin. His cheeks flushed into a dusty rose. Embarrassment flickered across his irises.

He knew the right words—what to say. The others always taunted him. A mere simple three words that he rehearsed in his head were now a vinyl on repeat; his heart struck with Cupid’s arrow. Baji admitted to himself mentally, with your presence in front of him, to be the gateway to what heaven was really like—at least, you were everything. Only for him. And a chance to have you—forever.

Forget what we’re told

Before we get too old

Show me a garden that’s bursting into life

Without hesitation, without another thought, without another sigh.

Baji leaned in, throwing his palms around your cheeks—ignoring the heat rising to his fingers once his lips were pressed on yours. His legs shook, where you nearly fell back onto the grass but your hands kept yourself steady on the ground. Arms shaking; body falling into a blink of a release, he smiled along with the kiss, not thinking once that you weren’t kissing him back for a second—only before your hands toyed with his hair cautiously; he grinned at that, feeling complete.

All that I am

All that I ever was

Is here in your perfect eyes, they’re all I can see

“I’m in love with you.”

He shakily said, breaths fanning across your lips. Baji gritted his teeth; toothy fangs prominent from his nervousness. Watching his movement shuffle in an awkward manner was rather new, but instead of being unpleasant, you giggle closer to his lips. Soft, sweet, tender, proud—all at once, Baji felt calm emotions after the emotions had bursted from his erratic heart. A blessing, almost. Similar to love poems that he’d attempt to write or the lovestruck songs on repeat in his mind.

“Finally,” you exhaled. “About time you said it.”

I don’t know where

Confused about how as well

Just know that these things will never change for us at all

“I love you,” Baji said out loud, keeping his palms on your cheeks. Eyes widening at your grin, he laughs pridefully. “I love you, I’m in love with you—shit, I love you!” He yells it out loud, hoping that the moon would hear his confession; wide and clear, voice dancing throughout the bits of grass tickling his ankles.

If I lay here

“Please,” Baji sighed, dipping his forehead against yours. He brushed his lips against the tip of your nose, causing you to stop breathing for a second. “Hear me out again.”

You smiled. “Always, Keisuke.”

If I just lay here

“So you’ve always known?”

“It was pretty obvious.”

He snapped at himself for acting so foolish all this time, but Baji only threw it off to the side as a mere joke. Baji didn’t think much about anything else tumbling through his mind. Three words. Even much more than that—was it enough? Especially for your sake. With the stars dancing in your eyes at that moment, perhaps it was enough to fulfill Baji’s heart even with the soaring burst of silver constellations.

“Okay,” Baji grinned, rubbing his nose against yours, causing you to laugh. “One more question.”

“I’m all ears.”

Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

“Be mine?”

tags: @spoofybun @sonder-paradise @duckiichan @nullified-kiss @ravenina14 @3-am-depression @manjirose

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

Leon brings Merlin and Lancelot in on his underground enterprise;

Turns out, Leon is the biggest Magic Ally out there. Confusion, bonding, and sneaky hijinks ensue.

I imagine it starts fairly normally.

The Gang (King Arthur, Merlin, and the five knights) have literally just arrived back at the castle after a fairly uneventful hunt (I mean... nowadays, getting attacked by bandits only once in three days counts as uneventful).

Merlin is left behind to help the stablehands untack the horses, like usual, except he leaves the stables half a candle mark later to find Leon awkwardly loitering around outside, the evening dimming around him.

He thinks maybe the First Knight had gotten injured, and was too embarrassed to ask for help in front of everyone (something that is common in all of the knights. Merlin thinks it’s very stupid, and has told all of them this at least once), so doesn’t question it when Leon asks Merlin for a quick word, and leads him back to his quarters.

Leon locks the door behind him. Not unusual, the man was very private. It’s when he puts a chair in front of the door and draws the curtains, that Merlin starts to get a little nervous. He’d cast a small enchantment on one of the bandits, to make him confused enough to trip over his own feet (as opposed to skewering Elyan, which is what he’d been about to do) but Merlin was certain that no one had seen him. He was certain.

And... Leon was a knight. He’d been a knight for longer than Arthur had been King, longer than he’d even known Merlin. Surely if he saw... he would've said something, accused him or just killed him.

(He has to remind himself to have a little faith in his friends. But also: “This might be completely unrelated, so just act natural.”)

Leon turns around to look at Merlin, and instantly recognises how nervous the younger man is, despite his poor attempt to hide it. The knight keeps his distance, and gives him a slow nod:

“I just wanted to let you know, Merlin, if you ever need... ah, a way out of the city, unseen, at short notice, then I can sort something for you.”

At that, all of Merlin’s racing, terrifying thoughts, stutter to a stop, and he looks at Leon with nothing but confusion on his face. He tilts his head slightly, asking, ever so eloquently:

“...What?”

Leon sends a soft smile and a knowing wink his way:

“Or, you know, the back up of a noble in court, or an alibi, I can do that to. I have a feeling that, considering you haven’t done a runner yet, you’re planning on sticking around.”

Merlin just furrows his eyebrows, shaking his head slightly in bewilderment:

“I... Leon I have no idea what you’re talking about. What do you mean, done a runner? Why would I need your help in court or... or an alibi??”

Leon just raises an eyebrow, and tilts his head.

Merlin copies him.

A look of realisation crosses the blonde’s face, and he lifts his hands in surrender:

“Ah. Ok, before I say anything else, I promise Merlin, you are entirely safe. I would protect you with my life if I had to-”

Merlin slowly nods, still confused:

“-I know about your magic.”

Merlin gasps and steps back, but Leon just smiles at him again, nodding his head slightly; it does nothing to relax the servant, and his breathing continues to get deeper as he backs himself against the wall, tears filling his eyes.

Leon frowns, his heart cracking slightly, but resists the protective urge to walk towards Merlin to comfort him. Instead he takes a step back, not lowering his hands. Before he can open his mouth to utter more reassurances, a tirade of broken, cracking apologies fall from Merlin’s lips:

“I... Leon I swear I’m not evil, I... I don’t hurt people, I promise. Please, you... please believe me, I would NEVER-”

Leon interrupts him, shaking his head rapidly, and forcing a reassuring smile on his face:

“I know. Merlin, I know that. I know you’re not evil, I know that you use it to protect us, I know. It’s ok, I won’t tell anyone, you’re not in danger, I would NEVER hurt you, or tell anyone, ok? I swear it. You’re safe with me.”

Merlin gulps, but relaxes (only slightly, but it’s a start. Leon doesn’t know why he’s so surprised at Merlin’s reaction, I suppose he thought he had been clear in his brotherly affection and protectiveness towards the younger man. Apparently not; he would have to fix that). He gives Leon an assessing once over, and it strikes the knight how efficient he is. He wonders how many times Merlin’s eyes have flicked over someone: checking their face for any sign of deception, checking how close their hands are to a weapon, checking their stance to see if they’re preparing for a fight.

Leon stays in place, forcing himself to untense, and giving Merlin a weak smile, hoping that the servant doesn’t mistake his slight heartbreak for fear or anger.

After a few moments, Merlin relaxes even further (though is still understandably ready to bolt at a moment’s notice), and steps away from the wall, Leon’s smile widens, and he nods once again, patiently waiting for Merlin to say something:

“You... you offered to smuggle me out of the city?”

Leon nods, glancing to the door behind him before gesturing Merlin to keep his voice down as he replies cryptically:

“You wouldn’t be the first.”

The servant gulps, giving the knight an assessing gaze, magic buzzing under his skin, alert and frightened at the idea of a Red Knight other than Lancelot knowing the truth:

“You’ve smuggled others out?”

Leon nods and moves ever so slowly to sit on the edge of his bed, still holding his hands up placatingly. He doesn’t gesture for Merlin to join him, understanding the other man’s remaining jumpiness, but leaves space next to him, just in case.

Merlin hesitates for only a second before settling on the bed next to him, forcing himself to relax. The knight wasn’t currently armed, and anyway, if Leon had been planning on accusing him or attacking him, then he wouldn’t be doing this. None of what he said could, in any way, make sense as some sort of trick.

Once Merlin settles, still a little uneasy, Leon begins his explanation in a quiet voice, obviously still worried about startling Merlin (and obviously not wanting to risk someone overhearing him):

“It started when I was fifteen. One of the serving girls in my father’s household was born with magic, though it didn’t manifest until years after the purge started. She was my age, sweet, kind, I couldn’t possibly believe her to be evil or corrupt, but under The King’s law, she would’ve been burned. Poor girl was terrified of being found out, but Uther was so paranoid, they were basically interrogating anyone who entered or exited the city; she had nowhere to go. I had already started my training at this point, so I used my knowledge of guard rotations and shift changes to sneak her out. I left her with some family in a village nearer the border, snuck back in a few days later. From then on it just... kept happening. I suppose I got good at recognising the specific brand of fear that magic-users in Camelot suffer from, and I’ve got a good eye; I know magic when I see it-”

He gives Merlin a knowing look, but the servant just turns indignant and says:

“Well, I was also born with magic, and it took you ten years to figure it out, so-”

He sticks his tongue out at the knight, and Leon raises his eyebrow at him, before laughing and nodding, thankful for Merlin’s lessening fear:

“-yeah, I suppose. But still. It started off with just the occasional person; one or two a month. And then it was whole families or groups of people who either had magic, or were scared of being accused and wanted out. It became a bit of a side-career, though I always refused any payment they offered.”

Merlin stares at him, thoughtful and in awe, before yet another look of realisation crosses his face:

“Is this why the Druids are so fond of you?”

Finally, it’s Leon’s turn to look confused, and Merlin continues:

“Whenever we come across them, they always seem less wary of you than the other knights, like they know what you’ve done.”

Leon takes in slow breath, quirking his eyebrows slightly and shrugging:

“I’ve never really noticed, maybe. I’ve never been into a camp, but when someone I was sneaking out had nowhere to go, I’d take them as close to a Druid settlement as I dared, and pointed them in the right direction; I suppose word might’ve spread.”

Merlin nods, looking to his lap, thinking. Leon stays silent, understanding that this is probably a lot to take in, and not wanting to interrupt Merlin’s processing time. 

After a few moments, Merlin, still staring into his lap, reaches across to Leon and takes the knight’s hand in a shaking one of his own. It’s then that Leon notices the slow tears on the other man’s face, but before he can say anything, Merlin looks up at him, his voice shaking as he whispers a rough:

“Thank you.”

Leon smiles, squeezing his hand and bumping their shoulders together:

“Anytime. Like I said Merlin, I would protect you with my life. If you ever need anything...”

Merlin takes a deep breath, standing and wiping the tears from his face quickly before dragging Leon to the door:

“There is one thing. Come on.”

Leon allows himself to be dragged, and Merlin moves the chair to the side before stepping out of the way, allowing Leon to unlock the door with the key hanging around his neck. He doesn’t question where they’re going, though he is slightly confused when he notices that they’re heading deeper into the castle, as opposed to outside or to Merlin’s chambers like he was expecting.

They finally come to a stop outside Lancelot’s door, and Leon nods to himself in realisation. He had suspected that the other knight had known the truth, but hadn’t wanted to ask or push it in case he was wrong.

Merlin knocks rapidly after checking the corridor for other people, and the door had barely been opened before he’s pushing his way through, still dragging Leon behind him. The two men move to stand by the opposite wall, Lancelot still by the door looking increasingly confused:

“Merlin, Leon, is... is everything alright?”

Merlin waves his hand casually, not even needing an incantation as his eyes flash briefly gold and the door shuts of it’s own accord (... or Merlin’s accord).

Lancelot immediately gasps and makes a jump for the sword sat on the table, but Leon holds his hands up in surrender as Merlin rushes to speak:

“Lance it’s fine!! Leon knows about my magic, and he’s been smuggling people out of Camelot for decades, he’s safe.”

Lancelot looks to Leon with a mix of suspicion and relief, still picking the sword up and holding it loosely in one hand, but the older knight is too distracted staring at Merlin in mild outrage:

“Dec- How old do you think I am, Merlin?!”

Merlin looks up at him guiltily, and Lancelot lets go of his suspicion, instead clamping his free hand over his mouth to stop himself from laughing at Merlin’s squeaked reply:

“Uh... there’s no safe way to answer that, is there? You said you were fifteen when you started, and I know you’re older than Arthur, so...”

Leon scoffs, rolling his eyes as Lancelot snorts:

“I’m only five years older than him, Merlin. I’m thirty-one, you can say “decades” plural when I hit thirty-five, and not a day sooner.”

Merlin holds in a smirk, and nods. Lancelot clears his throat, dropping the sword back on the table and asking the obvious question:

“So... how much does he know?”

Merlin spends the rest of the night explaining everything, from Kilgharrah calling to him when he first arrived, (”You mean that thing was under the castle the whole time?!”) to just last week, when he had to sneak out of the city to deal with a particularly insatiable Succubus that was causing problems with the border patrols (”Huh. I wondered why the men had just... stopped disappearing. I’m not complaining though, thank you.”).

He included all the information about the prophecies and being Emrys and how Arthur was the Once and Future King and the coming (potential) Golden Age. Leon was especially curious about that, and interrupted often to ask questions.

Lancelot also interrupted rather often, but only to correct Merlin when he underappreciated his own genius or power or selflessness, much to Merlin’s embarrassment and annoyance.

Merlin also tried to miss out as much of his own suffering as he could, but Lancelot wasn’t having it, and Leon was horrified to learn of the Serket sting, the countless, almost fatal fights he’d had with various people (Nimueh, The Cailleach (”I did also wonder how the veil just... repaired itself. Nice one.”), Morgause, Agravaine, etc (Morgana is good in this, though her magic is still hidden)), and all the other terrible things that had happened.

When he finally finishes, Leon is speechless.

The knight had just thought that Merlin had learned a few tricks to keep himself and Arthur safe when they went out and about, but he was actually, apparently, the most powerful Warlock ever, and had a whole series of prophecies and battle scars to back it up. Lancelot’s face was an odd mix of prideful and mournful, and that only drove home to Leon how much Merlin had suffered over the years.

After a few minutes of silence, Merlin awkwardly waiting, as if for judgement, Lancelot pipes up, his voice oddly cheery:

“So, Sir Leon, fancy two extra sets of hands in the little smuggling ring you’ve got going?”

~

And that is essentially... exactly what happens. 

It’s usually Leon who discovers the sorcerers, being the most observant of the three, but it’s Merlin they send on the first approach more often than not. Leon had always been painfully aware of how scary a Camelot Knight going “I know you have magic” must be, so the trio takes advantage of Merlin’s non-threatening look. That, paired with the fact that he’s well known and well loved around the town, makes starting things off a lot easier.

A lot of the time, the people they approach don’t want to leave. They’ve kept themselves hidden for over twenty years, and they plan to continue to do so, but it’s a weight off their back to know that the option is there if they need it.

Merlin introduces Leon to the tunnels under the city, hidden and warded with his magic. The older knight is very much relieved at that; taking advantage of gaps in guard rotations wasn’t the most reliable plan, and he’d been paranoid for years that something would go wrong one day and he’d get caught.

They worked well together, though all three of their lives got a lot more complicated. Lancelot and Merlin were pulled into Leon’s secret smuggling life (despite him insisting that they could sit it out, considering they were already so busy trying to keep Arthur alive, which is apparently a lot harder than Leon had first assumed), and Leon was pulled into Merlin and Lancelot’s secret “bring about the Golden Age” life (despite the two of them insisting that Leon didn’t need to help, considering he was already so busy running a smuggling ring right under the nose of the King).

To be honest, the two lives sort of swirled together. Anyone that they sent to the Druid camps was told to spread the word of the Once and Future King, and when Leon was sent to distract Arthur when Lancelot and Merlin needed to do something Magicky, Lancelot was sent to distract Arthur when Leon and Merlin needed to do something smuggly.

Eventually Gaius finds out. Because of course he does. Because he’s not stupid. And whilst the three of them are unwilling to put him in anymore danger than he’s already in (harbouring a Warlock is... pretty dangerous. Though Arthur would probably forgive the older man anything.), they never turn away the small, portable medkits he passes along to them, and don’t complain when he offers to talk to Arthur about a promising new treatment for the flu for a few hours.

But overall, they have a proper little (unpaid) enterprise going, and no one suspects a thing. 

~

Mistakes are made of course, some a little bigger that others. But most of them get a laugh from the trio when they think back on them later.

Ironically enough, this mistake came when the trio mistook a “need to save Arthur” problem, for a “need to save this poor scared sorcerer” problem.

They’d been getting complacent. No one had tried to kill Arthur directly in a while, so when a visiting Lord brought with him a very nervous, very secretive stablehand, they didn’t even consider that it would be the young servant who wanted to kill Arthur as opposed to the visiting noble (who was an arsehole, and therefor automatically under suspicion).

Merlin, being the most powerful of the three of them, was keeping an eye on the noble; trying to keep him away from Arthur as well as trying to figure out if he knew that his stablehand was a magic-user. Leon was distracting Arthur, with the help of a report Gaius had written, by talking endlessly about certain weaknesses in the knight’s armour and the injuries that Gaius treats most often and the link between the two.

That left Lancelot to trail the stablehand, whose name they had discovered was Alban. He wasn’t wearing any armour and didn’t have a sword, only a small dagger up his sleeve, so as not to frighten the boy.

Which of course was a huge mistake.

Considering how innocent Merlin looks, but how dangerous he actually is, they really shouldn’t have underestimated the boy, but alas, with how well both of the secret lives had been going, their egos had grown, and they weren’t as careful as they should’ve been.

It was only after the Lord had retired to his chambers (and Merlin had come to the annoying conclusion that he was an arsehole, but certainly not smart enough to be dangerous), and Leon had exhausted every possible line of enquiry about armour and injuries, that the two of them thought something might be wrong.

It had been hours since they had heard from Lancelot, and by the sounds of it, no one had seen him in that time either.

The stablehand also couldn’t be found.

They tried not to assume the worst; all of them (Merlin, most often) had disappeared for longer before, so before they panicked, the two of them went about methodically searching for the other knight.

The wards down in the tunnels hadn’t been disturbed, Lancelot’s room was untouched (the sight of his armour and sword laid out on his bed did nothing to quell their growing anxiety), and no one had seen him leave the city. The Camelot stablehands had no idea where the visiting servant was, and had apparently barely seen him in the stables since he’d arrived anyway.

Now it was time to panic.

The two men rushed back to Lancelot’s room, shutting the door behind them, Merlin hurriedly asking:

“What’s the last thing he touched, do you reckon?”

Leon raked his hands through his hair for the dozenth time, looking around with wide eyes:

“Uh... we had training this morning, and he took his armour off after that, and immediately went to follow Alban, so his armour? His sword?”

Merlin picks the sword up in careful but hurried hands. He closes his eyes, concentrating, as he mutters a quick spell. The sword shimmers for a moment before Merlin throws it back down on the bed with a huff:

“Nope, the trail is there but it’s weak, I need something more recent.”

Leon curses quietly to himself:

“Try his water goblet? Or the wash bowl? God knows that man doesn’t like to be grimy.”

Merlin hums, walking to the wash bowl before halting in his tracks:

“Wait... no, you’re right. He doesn’t like being dirty,-”

With that, Merlin changes direction, heading to the small desk in the corner and opening the draws at random, rifling through them. Leon walks up behind him:

“Merlin? What are you-”

He’s interrupted by Merlin exclaiming in victory, and straightening up. He turns around with a grin on his face, holding out a small comb:

“-he will have run a comb through his hair after washing,-”

He pulls a short, brunette hair from between the wooden teeth:

“-and an actual piece of him is WAY better to track him with than something he’s just touched.”

He repeats the spell from earlier, the smile returning to his face when he begins to feel the pull in his heart, leading him to the lost knight.

The two of them leave the room hurriedly, Leon trailing after Merlin, both of them trying to look an inconspicuous as possible.

They walk briskly down the corridor, hope and excitement blooming in their chests at the idea of finding the friend they’d been so worried about. Leon puts a hand on Merlin’s shoulder, but neither of them stop moving as he speaks lowly:

“Can you tell how far away he is?”

Merlin hums, before replying equally quietly:

“Yeah, I think he’s about... actually... no, no I can’t- what?”

With that, he stops dead in his tracks, stumbling when Leon runs into his back with a gentle “oof”. The knight looks down at him, his face back to looking panicked. They’d stopped at a crossroads in the corridor, and Merlin’s head twitches from side to side, like he can’t decide which way to go.

Leon shakes his shoulder slightly:

“Merlin, he’s been gone for hours, we need to hurry. Close your eyes, breathe, which way is Lancelot?”

Merlin does what Leon says, shuffling on his feet slightly before closing his eyes, taking a deep breath, and relaxing his shoulders:

“Where are you, Lance?”

He mutters it quietly to himself, and Leon barely dares to breathe, not wanting to distract him. After a few moments, Merlin’s head twitches to the right, the corridor that leads to the servant quarters. The servant opens his eyes, nodding briefly at Leon, before turning and walking down the corridor. 

He passes the first few doors without hesitation, thankful for the late hour; all the servants are either eating their own dinner, or serving dinner to their masters. Which is probably where Merlin should be right now, but he had more pressing matters, he could deal with Arthur later.

He slows as he reaches the end of the corridor, frowning in confusion. There are no more doors, they’ve reached a dead end, and Merlin tilts his head whilst Leon stares at him expectantly, periodically checking the corridor behind them. Merlin begins muttering to himself again, flexing his hands as if he were in pain:

“This is... wrong. I don’t come down here very often but... there’s... this is wrong. I can feel it and I can... see it, like there’s something out the corner of my eye that shouldn’t be there-”

He gasps, turning and looking at a specific part of the wall, hovering his hand over the stonework:

“-or something that should be there!”

Leon’s gaze flicks between the wall and Merlin as he quietly asks:

“A hidden door? Can you... unhide it?”

Merlin takes a second to snort and roll his eyes, before pressing his hand against the wall, muttering spells to himself. Leon turns around, hand on the hilt of his sword at his hip as he stands guard. After a few minutes of Merlin getting more and more frustrated when the wall stays... well... a wall, he finally lets out a whispered exclamation; Leon glances behind him to see the stone rippling, and finally fading to reveal the door. 

With one last check down the corridor, they enter the room slowly, shutting the door behind him. Leon whispers Lance’s name into the darkness tentatively, but Merlin just shakes his head, summoning a light.

It’s just a normal storage room filled with dusty shelves and empty crates, but Merlin moves through the debris to the back, cursing under his breath when he finds what he’s looking for. Leon moves up behind him, staring over the younger man’s shoulder to the precise symbol drawn onto the floor:

“Merls?”

Merlin huffs speaking lowly, not looking away from the symbol:

“It’s a teleportation spell, it’s why I was being pulled in two directions. Lance went through this portal, but it probably took him somewhere outside the city limits.”

Leon gulps, before taking a deep breath and gripping Merlin’s shoulder again:

“Can you activate it? Do we follow through the portal, or track him out of the city??”

Merlin shakes his head roughly:

“No, that would take far too long, we don’t actually know how long he’s been gone, it could have been all afternoon, remember? Look around, there should be a crystal or an orb or something, like a switch I have to push magic into to activate the spell.”

It only takes a few minutes of rummaging for Leon to uncover a rough looking crystal, and Merlin smiles weakly at the comically fearful look on the knight’s face as he holds it as far away from himself as he can; he may trust Merlin’s magic, but he is still logically... unnerved by things he doesn’t understand.

Merlin takes it from him, eyes turning briefly gold as he mutters an incantation and his hand is engulfed in a blue flame. The flame dies down after a few seconds at Merlin’s command, and he hides the now glowing crystal back where Leon had found it, before looking back to the symbol on the floor.

It takes only a few moments for the lines to start softly glowing, and when nothing else changes, Merlin takes a deep breath, reaching behind him blindly for Leon’s hand, and muttering:

“Well, here goes nothing.”

He feels the knight take his hand and step up next to him. With one last nervous glance to each other, they nod, and step into the circle.

~

MEANWHILE

Thankfully, whilst Lancelot hadn’t been seen in a while (on account of being camped out in the hidden storage room, waiting for his stalkee to reappear out of the weird glowy circle thing), he had only actually been kidnapped by Evil Alban the Not-Stablehand for about half a candle mark.

And he was currently very bored. The younger man finally reappeared, only to fly into a rage at the sight of another man, crouched like a gremlin, almost asleep in the corner of the entrance to his secret lair.

His eyes had flashed sickly yellow, and Lancelot found himself falling over the edge into sleep, and waking up an undetermined amount of time (like five minutes, but it was so fucking dark where he was, he had no way to guess what time of day it was) later, tied to a chair (not gagged, thankfully).

He had realised the trio’s mistake fairly early on in Evil Alban the Not-Stablehand’s monologue; something about vengeance and sins of the father and yadda yadda yadda. Honestly? He tuned it out pretty quickly, he’d heard it all before... multiple times, and he wasn’t too worried; he had faith that Merlin and Leon would arrive to rescue him soon (though he wasn’t looking forward to all the comments along the lines of “who’s the real princess?”).

It was when he almost nodded off that Alban stuttered slightly:

“...after all, surely someone who is strong enough to take the crown should... should deserve... it... are you falling asleep?!”

Lancelot’s head whips up with a quiet snort as he blinks the sleep from his eyes, and looks at the outraged criminal with guilt in his eyes:

“Uh... no? You’re doing wonderfully, Alban, very riveting, keep going.”

The knight’s words do nothing to calm the other man down, and he exclaims slightly as he stamps his foot petulantly. Lancelot bites his lip to stop himself laughing, but before he can get himself under control and say something else, Alban puffs his chest out and grins triumphantly:

“Your mind games shan’t work on me, Sir Knight. I will not be distracted by your mocking or... or distractions.”

Lancelot raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything. Alban huffs, shaking his head roughly before looking back at Lancelot with wide, expectant eyes:

“Well? What do you think of my plan, noble Sir? Ineffable, no?”

Lancelot purses his lips, once again looking guilty as he chooses not to point out the younger’s misuse of the word ineffable (definitely NOT ineffable, considering he’d banged on and on for half a candle-mark):

“I don’t suppose you could... sum up the last twenty minutes or so worth of... plan? Then I could.... let you know my thoughts?”

Alban let out an inhuman screech, stamping his foot again, much to Lancelot’s hidden amusement. The Great Villain stalked off into the darkness, huffing and grumbling to himself, and Lancelot just rolled his eyes, murmuring under his breath:

“For fucks sake. Better not leave me here. Where the fuck are you guys?”

As if the Gods themselves answered the knight’s question, he hears another inhuman screech come from the darkness; though this one was a lot more high pitched, and was immediately followed by Leon’s unmistakable voice growling out:

“Where is he you pre-pubescent piece of shit?!”

Lancelot allows himself to snort at the likely look of terror on the Not-Stablehand’s face before yelling:

“Don’t make the kid shit himself Leon, if he does, you’ll be the one carrying his unconscious body back.”

He hears Merlin’s laugh and the distinct sound of a skull making contact with the hilt of a sword, before the two of them appear like ghosts, lit only by the glow of Merlin’s golden eyes, and the magical light floating between their heads.

Lancelot gives them a grin, shuffling in his binds slightly as he says:

“Took you long enough, he’s been banging on about how clever he is for fucking ages. Cut me loose, would you?”

Merlin clicks his fingers, the ropes falling the the floor as Leon checks him over for injury, and affectionately ruffling his hair, much to the other knight’s chagrin.

The three of them move to crowd around Alban’s crumpled form, hands on their hips as they stare at him, unimpressed. Lancelot sighs:

“You really didn’t have to hit him that hard, I don’t think he was that much of a threat.”

Merlin huffs and stalks off to reactivate the teleportation spell, leaving the chastising for Leon to deal with:

“Not much of a threat?! Lance no one had seen you in hours, we thought you were dead!”

Lancelot frowns and shuffles, suddenly looking apologetic:

“Ah, sorry. He took me less than a candle-mark ago, though I guess I lost track of how long I’d been sat waiting for him before that. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

Leon huffs, but drops the subject as Merlin calls back to them. The curly-hired knight picks Alban up, laying him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes before following Lancelot in Merlin’s direction. They stand around the glowing symbol, and Lancelot rolls his eyes at Merlin’s glower:

“Oh, don’t give me that look, Mister I regularly show up after three days covered in bruises and blood with “The Tavern” as my only excuse.”

Leon snorts and Merlin rolls his eyes but smirks, and with that, the trio step into the circle, reappearing back in the storage cupboard with no one else in Camelot even vaguely aware of the mini adventure they’d had.

~

This happens for a while. Saving people (mostly Arthur) from the batshit insane things that happen in Camelot that no one but them seems to be aware of.

Of course, rumours fly about the oddly close connection the three men have. Lancelot is head over heals in love with Guinevere (which he ardently denies, despite Merlin and Leon’s repeated dramatic attempts to get them together) and everyone knows it, but even Arthur starts to (jealously) suspect something is going on between Leon and Merlin, especially when Merlin’s lack of talent when it comes to making up excuses is displayed yet again.

Leon and Merlin had been sneaking out of the castle, on their way to meet the teenage son of a noble who desperately needed to escape. Lancelot, who had a late patrol, was to meet them by one of the tunnel entrances outside the city limits, and assure that no other guards were nearby.

Unfortunately, the pair came across a sleepy King, on his way to the kitchens for a midnight snack.

The King stared at them with wide, shocked eyes, and the pair stared back. Leon grimaced slightly, and after a few moments of awkward silence, Arthur slowly asks:

“What are you two... doing?”

Leon takes a deep breath desperately trying to come up with something to say, but before he can find an excuse, Merlin pipes up:

“I was teaching him poetry.”

Leon lets out his breath before slowly covering his face with his hands as he shakes his head slightly. Merlin immediately realises his mistake and bites his lip, furrowing his eyebrows as he says:

“What I mean, is that-”

He’s cut off by Arthur holding a hand up, his face looking mildly put-off as he shakes his head:

“I don’t want to know. Yeah, I changed my mind, I really... don’t want to know.” Before turning around and heading back in the same direction he’d come from, hunger forgotten.

Merlin holds his breath until Arthur turns the corner, before letting it all out in one go and staring at the floor wide-eyed. Leon keeps his head in his hands as he mutters:

“You fucking idiot.-” before looking up at the man besides him incredulously:

“-Why??”

Merlin looks at him indignantly, and loudly whispers:

“I don’t know!! It was just the three of us in a dark corridor like last time and it just popped into my head and I said it! At least he didn’t push, I suppose.”

Leon shakes his head again, before a look of realisation crosses his face and he looks at Merlin with dread in his eyes:

“Yeah... except when you used that excuse on me- shut up, of course I knew you were lying, I’m not an idiot- I thought you and Arthur were uh... well, I thought you were sleeping together...”

Merlin’s eyes go wide and he sputters for a response before he lets out a quiet, deranged laugh, and shakes his blushing head:

“First off, no. Second off... at least he didn’t push.” he repeats. Leon squints at his friend, before he gasps and grins:

“Oh my God, you like him!-”

Merlin scowls at him, and Leon laughs gleefully (though still quietly) before whispering:

“-all this time we’ve been ribbing Lancelot about Guinevere, and we should’ve been ribbing you! Oh my God, wait ‘til Lance hears this.”

Merlin turns on him, face bright red as he angrily (or as angrily as he can, when he’s the colour of Leon’s cape, and the knight is trying not to wake the castle up with his laughter):

“I swear to God, Leon, I will turn you into a fucking toad if you breath a word to anyone! I’ll do it, I swear I’ll do it!”

Leon forces himself to breath and coughs slightly as he catches his breath, putting a hand on Merlin’s shoulder:

“Fine, fine. I won’t say anything, but only if you help me hang mistletoe up in Lance’s doorway next week.”

Merlin rolls his eyes, but nods his head with a grin, and with that, they resume their sneaking around.

~

This happens for what feels like years and years, but really, Merlin only gets one day into looking at Leon with a shit-eating grin and saying that the old man has been doing this for “decades”, when suddenly... they don’t have to do it anymore.

Arthur repeals the ban on magic. 

And to be honest, it was a complete surprise to everyone. Of course, the whole Kingdom knew that he was more tolerant than his father had ever been; he hadn’t executed anyone in years, and unless accusations were serious or life-threatening, he rarely ordered investigations.

As it turns out, he’d been working on it in secret for months, with only  Morgana’s help (not that he knew about her magic, she was just the only person in his life who’d always been vocally against the ban). All the work they’d put in meant that when it came time to present it to the council, all Arthur had to do was hold his head high and say something along the lines of “I am your King, you do this, or you lose your seat.”.

The drafts were so well-worked, so perfect, the council had nothing to argue against, no excuses worth more than a roll of the eyes and a dismissive wave of the hand.

The repeal went through seamlessly, and Arthur was announcing Merlin and Morgana as his Court Sorcerers within a week (after of course a few hours of raging at the lies and deception, in which they defended themselves and each each other with sharp tongues and entirely valid descriptions of their terror, and with Leon and Lancelot stood behind them the whole time ready to pull their swords at a moments notice).

Leon, Lancelot, and Merlin told the King about all their adventures saving his arse, which he floundered at before abashedly thanking them, but they never mentioned the now obsolete smuggling ring they had going.

Of course, there were moments when they missed the excitement of sneaking out at night, the victory of seeing a family off to the Druid’s, or to a safe village, but ultimately they were ecstatic that they weren’t needed in that capacity anymore. It was undeniably a good thing.

Their plan to keep their heroics to themselves failed miserably however, when a crowd of around two-hundred gathered in the courtyard, led by a woman in her mid-thirties who looked mighty familiar to Sir Leon.

The gang met them down there, armed and worried at first, but quickly relaxing when they realised this was the furthest to an attack a group this large could get.

The King led the party, Morgana, Elyan, Gwaine, and Percival to his left, and Merlin, Leon, and Lancelot to his right, Guinevere and Gaius waiting by the castle entrance. It was only when Lancelot gasped, and grabbed Merlin and Leon’s sleeves to point at a specific family near the front of the crowd that they understood. All these people, all these happy, joyful, alive people... were people they’d saved over the years.

The three of them gulped, suddenly teary as more and more of the crowd pointed their way, wide smiles on their faces. They knew that this wasn’t even half the people they had saved (if you include Leon’s sixteen years doing it alone), but still, it was astounding to visually see it.

The familiar woman stepped forward at Arthur’s gesture, and the trio suddenly realise what’s about to happen. “Oh shit.” and variants of the above are muttered by all three as they wait with baited breath. There’s not really anything they can do to stop this:

“Your Highness, firstly I would like to thank you, for accepting my people back into your Kingdom-”

Her voice quietens slightly as she glances to the floor, her eyes filling with tears before she looks up again:

“-many of us haven’t been home in... in a long time, and it’s good to be back.-”

Arthur nods, giving her a smile despite his still growing confusion at the crowd behind her. The woman looks quickly to Leon, giving him a brief smile as he gasps, recognising her. She looks back to the King, raising her voice and her head as she continues:

“-Secondly, I would like to extend an even greater thank-you to Sir Leon, and his two companions, without whom many of us would have died. They risked their lives sneaking us out of the city when your father hunted us, and after, when we were still at risk of execution, but they never stopped, and never gave up. We are but a fraction of the hundreds of people they saved, and we have nothing to offer them but our unending gratitude, and a humble demand that they are rewarded for their service to Camelot’s people. They are heroes to us all, and always will be”

Arthur looks slowly over to a very teary Leon, who doesn’t even glance his way as he stares at the former servant-girl, a weak smile on his face. Merlin and Lancelot meet The King’s gaze in his stead, smiling sheepishly and shrugging as they nod, confirming the woman’s story.

Arthur shakes his head minutely, half proud of his friends, and half annoyed at being caught off guard, before turning back to the woman, the smile back on his face:

“I’m glad to welcome you home, all of you, and I apologise that it took so long for me to right the wrongs committed by this Kingdom. Sir Leon and his companions will indeed be rewarded for their service,-”

At this, Arthur turns to look at the trio, a soft, meaningful smile on his face as he nods at them:

“-and I extend my thanks to them also, for being brave enough to protect my people, when I was not.”

Leon finally meets The King’s gaze, and returns his nod. Merlin and Lancelot each clap him on the back, before the three of them descend into the crowd. A loud cheer goes up around the courtyard, the rest of the knights, Morgana, and Guinevere looking on in shock as the trio greets person after person, accepting thanks and hugs and laughing joyously at the reminder of the good they’d done, despite their fear.

~

THE END!!

I really loved writing this one😄! Honestly this idea started out as crack, but I’m glad that it ended so wholesomely :)

Same as usual lads, someone wants to write it up properly or extend it, go for it, credit and tag me ✌️

[blzzrdstryr]

Reveries of the Past. Yandere!Childe x Fatui!gn!reader

Wordcount: 3875

CW: Dissociation, graphic depiction of violence, hallucinations, unhealthy relationship and unhealthy power dynamics.

A.N.: I used a lot of my experience with dissociations in this and if it makes you uncomfortable, I would advice not to read it. I also plan on writing continuation for this, as it’s set before the Rite of Descension. P.s. I am not a native English speaker, so could you notify me if there’s awkward wording.

[Next chapter]

There are plenty of times you find yourself reminiscing about the past and now, your mind slips back to your memories, as you look at the horribly mangled body of the treasure hoarder. The stench of blood stuffs up your nose, it’s sickly sweet metallic odor making your gut clench and nausea rise, as your limbs grow heavier and numb. You don’t feel  like you belong in your skin and bones and blood anymore - it’s cold, so cold, yet you don’t feel any of it. You are an outsider, an unwanted intruder in the house that is your body, an indifferent observer looking at the world through the thick glass.

The world around disfigures, shapes and colors changing in the constant whirlwind - they jump and dance around, small becoming large and large shrinking so much it’s barely visible, green shifts to red to blue and to yellow and to million of other colors, and sounds suddenly become muffled, losing their sharpness, but you don’t care about it: the part that is “you” fled to the daydreams of your childhood moments ago, leaving a clinically observing, yet unfeeling being behind. 

Adults would describe you as a perfect child: quiet, obedient and dutiful, you were a stark contrast to the other louder and more free spirited kids. You studied hard, cleaned the house, helped with dishes and cooking and never talked back. 

I can't upset mom and dad because they work so much. I can't play with other kids because if I do, they will make fun of me, I have to study hard and get good grades, because mom said I will have a good job and become rich and help them. 

These particular memories don't feel good to you: they're bleak and boring, yet full of silent shame - they make your throat clog and eyes water, as something burning starts to bloom deep underneath your skin. 

Childe stops beating the still alive treasure hoarder, a blood smeared on the cheek and a dangerous glint in his eyes, and turns his head to you. 

"Hey, how about lending me a helping hand?", there’s a hunger in his voice you recognize, he wants to teach a lesson to the debtors, then. You walk towards him, feeling your knees get weaker and weaker with each step for some reason. A dagger made of ice shines in your hand with cold light. 

"It's no wonder [First] received a vision! My [First] is always so good and smart, there are no children better" the exact words your mother says, as she brags to her friends, showing them the vision you were bestowed with. You left it to her, not caring what will happen to it - despite all the child's wonder you felt before receiving it, the glowing orb doesn’t look so amazing to you now. It feels foreign and ugly, a reminder of what happened seconds before you gained it. 

“You know, when I was a child”, he takes the weapon and focuses on the treasure hoarder’s leader again, “we made a special kind of promise”. It’s tip travels to the hoarder’s hand. “You make a pinkie promise, you keep it all your life”

The sweet voice he uses and the fact that you  know the nursery rhyme too would make you sick in the stomach the other day, but not now. 

You don’t exactly remember how you joined the Fatui - it happened shortly after you gained a vision, when you were still too numb and cold to the outside world after the Event. 

Mom will hate me, dad will hate me too. I can’t let them know.

Your parents say that officials just knocked on the front door one day and offered you an entry into the Fatui and a monthly salary, big enough to stop your parents from overworking themselves. You were terrified back then, Fatuis despite being known as a diplomatic organization are still a mystery to the ordinary Shezhnayan and a direct servants to Her will. The thought of disappointing Tsaritsa or letting down Snezhnaya was enough to paralyze you, but seeing the smiles on your parents faces was enough to make you swear to yourself, that you will work there no matter how scary it seems.

“You break a pinkie promise, I throw you on the ice.” The blade stops between phalanges of the little finger: “The cold will kill the pinkie that once betrayed your friend", he presses it, strong enough to detach the limb from the rest of the body in one swift slash. Treasure hoarder starts to cry and scream from the sudden pain, yet quickly chokes on it as Childe hits him in the solar plexus. The crack of bones feels deafening among the sea of muffled sounds.

Training was rigorous to say the least, you came back to your dorm room absolutely exhausted and after you fell on the bed you were practically dead to the world. Turns out, having a vision wasn’t enough to make you a fighter - you needed to know how to climb, swim, run with a weight to lift and wield a weapon. There were other children and teens with you, they eyed your vision with a mix of adoration and envy, you pretended not to catch it in turn.

“The frost will freeze your tongue off so you never lie again”, harbinger forces the victim's jaw apart by squeezing it with one hand, the other rapidly forcing a dagger inside the mouth. Treasure hoarder gasps and mumbles, fat tears forming in his eyes. A part of you expects a sound of parting flesh, but none comes: Tartaglia stands up and removes the blade, leaving a shivering and terrified man laying on the ground.

“Well,” Childe shrugs, as if he didn’t just dismember a person, voice back to his cheery tone : “You didn’t actually make a pinkie promise, so consider it a small mercy”. The treasure hoarder cowers even more, snuggling the injured hand close to the bruised chest. “But if you fail to repay your debt I will oversee that the frost”, he points in your direction, a treasure hoarder’s eyes going wide as he notices your vision, “will actually freeze your lying tongue off”, his voice descends again, back to it’s dangerous half-whisper.

You meet Ajax during the winter, he’s close to you in age and just arrived into Fatui grounds. He boasts and shows off to all of you, and you desperately want to retort something acidic to shut him up and rip off that arrogant bravado, yet say nothing, picturing how the tomorrow training session will have him laying flat on his back, too hurt and too tired to move even a single finger. 

He defeats the trainer in less than a minute.

Now, that the treasure hoarder fled, still snuggling disfigured limb, Childe turns attention back to you. “You seem a little bit disinterested here”, his hand on your cheek is so foreign, it’s burning and freezing at the same time, the shock from the unwanted touch almost strong enough to pull you back into reality. He notices your unintentional flinching and unfocused eyes “Ah, you hurt my feelings, [First]! And I thought we already became friends”. 

You say nothing, cold and unmoving, blind and deaf to the outside world, his words register a second too late, and there’s no cliche phrase for you to reply with. He looks a bit baffled and deflated for a second, but shrugs it off, just like he did during teen years, when you deliberately ignored all his attempts at catching your attention.

“Huh, even if you are so cold to me, I still forgive you”, he takes your hand, his touch still too overwhelming for you to process and pulls you back to Liyue harbor, your legs barely bending as you walk after him, like an obedient dog trailing it’s master.

“You know [First], I can beat you up so badly, that you will barely walk”, you put feather aside, stopping writing the letter to your parents as you glare at Ajax with barely masked indignation. He grins, satisfied to finally catch your attention after the whole day of pestering you. “I am aware of that” you reply in an absolutely flat tone, holding yourself from pouncing on him and trying to break the teeth out of that smug smile. He beams even wider, as if sensing your not-so-good intentions, revealing even more pearly whites as if taunting you.

“But I won’t, count yourself lucky”. And he leaves, this short interaction filling you with so much rage that you shake, handwritten letters noticeably becoming sharper and faster, your thoughts clouding around the idea of acquating his face with your boots. 

 Nonetheless, you indeed count yourself fortunate enough, when you see Ajax defeating grown men with bare hands. When you two, the only vision holders among your peers have to spar, he always goes easy on you, prefering to immobilize you rather than beating, making your defeat less painful yet even more humiliating. 

Almost at the end of your trail he suddenly stops and says something, but you don't catch it, words turning into separate vowels and then fusing together into one unintelligible gibberish mess. He leans in, close enough for his breath to burn your neck, and he continues to get closer, until his empty eyes look into yours glazed ones. He seems disappointed for a second and backs down, his breathing no longer fanning your skin. 

Distantly you think that you somehow angered him and he will slap you for it, and do nothing to dodge the hit - you barely feel pain in this condition anyway, but he doesn’t. The road to the Northland Bank is completed in absolute silence, Childe no longer trying to grab your attention, only when you enter Liyue Harbor does he whisper, that you two must look like a pair with all that hand holding. Judging by the volume and tone of his voice he says it more to himself than to you.

***

You come back to yourself in the safety of your room on the third room of the Northland bank. It feels like a rush of sensation, as everything becomes sharper and clearer again, like you just swam to the surface of water from the very depths of it. An invisible bubble around your head pops in one moment, and the world becomes real again, mind and body connecting for once more.

Eyes and ears focused you take in surroundings: the room is neat and lifelessly empty - just a bed and a working desk with a stack of written but unsent letters, along with a small bookcase near, no figurines, pictures or even plants to decorate living place, as you see no reason to adorn the area you use for sleeping only. Indiscernible wallpapers and a small window close to the middle of the bed finish the picture of austerity.

 Once, your memory catches up to you, you can't help groan from the shame and irritation, hiding your face in both hands. Afterwards  always feels both like a disgraceful escape and a warm blanket during the stormy night, a duality that you accepted long ago after joining the Fatui and today is no exception. You curse Harbinger when you remember why exactly you had an episode, and get up from the bed you threw yourself on minutes ago. You come to the desk, taking a clean form of a relocation request from the drawer and writing materials. 

Filling in the blank feels like commiting a felony to you for some reason - you stop several times when you hear footsteps in the corridor, focusing on the door,ready to hide the half written form and say some lie as an excuse. You don't list the Childe-related reasons, knowing that there's nothing that could make any of the Harbingers face the consequence for their actions, and instead you write completely normal and fake causes: health concerns, family matters and so on. Part of you doubts that this will work and you will have the fortune to get away from a certain harbinger as far as possible. Trying and failing is better than never attempting, you think, quickly writing the paper.

Once you finish it, you almost rush to Ekaterina, praying that you won't run into a certain ginger on the way. Sometime ago you caught Tartaglia checking your letters, for a secrecy he said back then, we can’t let anyone know about the coming operation. Childe then instilled that every sent and received letter should be checked, lest Qixing and other Liyuens learned what Fatui had in plan. It sounded logical and sensible, but the paranoid thought that he enforced this policy just to have a glimpse at your feelings never stopped eating at you. From that day on you sent your family the most basic and vague letters, just stating that you’re in good health and mind, still missing them and Snezhnaya, leaving the ones with more private sentiments in your room. 

Her eyes are completely obscured by the mask, but even with that you can’t miss the pointed glare she sends your way - Tartaglia never shied away from showing off, be it his strength, money or his twisted obsession that he calls love. With the amount of time and finances he spends on you and the way he acts like a kicked lovesick puppy in your vicinity, you are pretty sure that at least half of the bank workers see you as a cunning and cruel seducer, so keen and devious in the art of temptation that you managed to lure in Eleventh Harbinger.

As if archons decided to laugh at you, Childe descends from the second floor too, catching the sight of you near the receptionist. He looks unusually somber for a moment, but then he sees you, a smile appearing on his face as he takes the form from Ekaterina's hands. You can just feel how Ekaterina rolls her eyes under the mask, as if muttering complaints about the lovers’ spat and insubordination, having been working with her for some time, enough to have a clue of the inner workings of her mind.

You have to give him that he plays the confusion and regret very persuasively. He asks how he can fix this, says what a valuable team member you are to him and how much you are needed in the Northland bank. You agree to his suggestion - if years of training with Ajax and then work with Childe taught you anything, it is that Ajax is the chaos incarnate and Tartaglia is Ajax’s less tolerable and more unpredictable version, so it’s better not to anger him.

***

In the end he invites you to dine with him at Wanmin restaurant, a place Childe heard from some “xiansheng” as he called them. A bustling Liyue street is open before you two, tall midday sun painting the whole street into bright orange, so unlike the pristine white landscapes of Snezhnaya. He orders two Black Back Perch Stews on the chef's recommendations, and hands a bouquet of local flowers in a parody of a normal boyfriend. Any random observer would really see it as a date.

You take the flowers, pretending to pay more attention to  them than to a man sitting near you. Tartaglia is an unpredictability wrapped in human skin, there’s no privilege as being lax and carefree near him, as even Tsaritsa has no idea what he will do next. 

To your mutual confusion Xiangling presents the meal with two pairs of chopsticks. Utensils feel foreign in your palm, you having no idea how to handle them and Childe, by the looks of it too. Tartaglia specifically asks the chef for spoons, while you observe the other clients, noting how they use theirs. Holding one stick like a pen and then placing the bottom one in a fixed position under the thumb you manage to grasp the fish from the soup, albeit clumsily. You consider it a small win. 

The image of a mighty Harbinger struggling in a failing battle with chopsticks would look funny to you, if it wasn’t for the whole "date" you were having. After putting them aside, and seemingly admitting defeat, Childe starts from afar: "You know [First], you changed a lot since I first met you" .

You raise an eyebrow at the starter, it's vague and innocent enough, but experience tells you that he will or at least try to stir the conversation into your relationship with him again. Straightening a bit and finally turning your eyes to him, you pause for a second, picking the least offensive reply you can muster - there’s a swarm of insults buzzing at the tip of your tongue prepared just for him, growing and sprouting since your pubescent years.

“Yes, I got taller”, he laughs it off, like you said some funny joke, his giggles not stopping for some time. "No, I mean as a person. Remember how you used to glare at me for joking? And now you act so unfazed ”

Joking. Is this what he calls it? Shivers creep up your spine when your memory oh so conveniently conjures the images of the aftermath of his jokes.

“Your jokes weren’t funny to anyone but you”. Breathe, you think, there’s no need to anger him. There are pictures of broken bones and bruised bodies and a cacophony of somebody else’s pained screams flashing and rattling in your head, Adults never did anything. Why would they? They had a golden boy Ajax, why would they help the others when they had him? Why would they help you? Bitterness and anger you thought you swallowed long ago rise up to the surface again, and you decide to bite down on the stew - Tartaglia always found a way to turn your words against you and hurt you, no need to give him more weapons now.

“I changed a lot too. I know I was insufferable as a teen”, he must have taken your silence as a free pass to continue whatever nonsense he’s sprouting, “I am sorry”.

The last three words catch you off guard, a piece of fish almost stuck in the throat from the jolt. Ajax takes you by surprise once again, for him to finally acknowledge and apologize for all the pain he caused and years he tormented you?

You blink and look at him intently, his facial expression changing into an unusually somber one. It seems authentic enough.

“Let’s start from the scratch?

You contemplate unsure what to say.

Was he lying?

Looking back, you in a sense are luckier than most of Childe's victims, witnessing his youth, familiarizing and distinguishing the tells of him lying and scheming, observing the way he bloomed into the manipulator he is today firsthand. You see a familiarity in his face and voice, something that helps you from falling to his charms. There's also the added fact that you were and still are an involuntary witness to the way how carnal and bloodthirsty usually friendly Ajax can become. 

When did you catch his attention?

You remember his smile when he first approached you, less teeth and more sincerity that is thereafter,a hand outstretched to you. It happens on the next day after his arrival, almost as cold and unpleasant as the previous one. You brush the limb away like a noisy fly, secretly angry at his arrogant attitude and how effortlessly he endured training. His smiling doesn’t stop, yet you feel a sudden change in the air around you.

Would your fate be different if you took his hand?

You can't forget how your mind disconnected from your body for the second time. It was Ajax again vying for your attention akin to a spoiled child, and like one he threw a tantrum when you refused to give him any. The poor recruit you were talking with was hospitalized the same day, as you helplessly watched the carnage before you. You didn't fight, you didn’t flee, you just froze, like a scared animal, paralyzed by fear, yet somehow too detached from feelings. That day was bizarre: once you felt reality, it was solid and undeniable and then you didn't. The realness of the current diffused, slipped through the fingers like sand, leaving nothing but unreliable and delusive reveries behind.

Will he let you go? 

“People do change and I see that you changed too. I don’t think of you as a teen you were” you carefully pick the words, Tartaglia visibly blooms, thinking that his apology worked, yet your next words snuff out his triumph: “but my memories stay the same. I don’t think we can start from scratch”

You bite the tongue, the second part still coming out too harsh for your liking. The moment of sincerity is interrupted, you see him, changing the masks, unsure what to do. It seems for the first time it was you who caught him off guard. You guess which one of the two standard facades he will decide to show to you, having spent years by his side to observe him masterfully wielding both, the friendly one with a vacant smile that never reaches his dead, dead eyes or the calculating one, distant and devoid of humanity?

In the end he uses none, a hurt still evident, dripping in his tone, face and moves - is it another mask you never got to see or is it real? - “So that is your answer”, he leans in closer, dull cerulean eyes looking right into yours.

You hold his stare, nodding, instead of saying anything and he hums, sitting back and wearing the cold mask, reserved for his enemies: “Just wanted to remind you that I am the Harbinger and you are just a position higher than an ordinary agent”. Despite seeing it so many times, it’s the first time he directs it at you and you have to suppress the shiver. The unsaid threat hangs heavy in the air, suffocating you.

You two are no longer solemn [First] and annoying Ajax, who trails your steps behind like a puppy, no, you are a special agent [Last] and Eleventh Fatui Harbinger Tartaglia, to whom you are personally assigned by Tsaritsa herself. Even possessing vision and delusion yourself you can’t match Childe’s power, and your loss would be easy to overlook if your harbinger wished for it. Honestly speaking, there are a lot of things he could do to you without anyone questioning it, the Harbingers being the second most powerful figures in the organization, right after Tsaritsa herself. You heard the stories of Krupp and other assistants who got missing under Il Dottore, you heard of horrible accidents happening to the people Scaramouche dislikes, you heard about the injuries Signora inflicts on the unfortunate recruits when she is in foul mood, yet you never thought that Tartaglia will abuse his power in the same way.

“Don’t worry” he seems to have taken mercy on you, “I won’t use my position like that, it’s cheating and I like to play the fair game”, despite the seemingly reassuring words , you don’t let yourself relax, knowing him for years.

“Don’t think I will back down though, I am not the type to give up”

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

ice lolly, m | ksj

pairing(s): seokjin x reader

summary: You (accidentally?) deep throat a popsicle in front of Min Yoongi. It's not what it looks like! Well, it kinda is, but you have a good reason! You just want to give your boyfriend, Kim Seokjin, a mind-blowing blowjob and you read some stuff online and, uh... okay, that still doesn't sound like a good reason, but I swear it is.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; established relationship; featuring seagull-BTS LOL; crack and fluff; smut (fem reader, m-receiving oral); ft Min Yoongi witnessing your, um, attempt XD; my tongue technology strikes again, maybe you'll learn something?

this is inspired by your hapless adventures, cat whiskers. you told me not to do it, but I'm a brat and I did it anyway LMAO get rekt

--

So.

You read this thing online.

What if you just...

"What are you doing?"

You started with a shriek, jamming the entire ice lolly right into the back of your throat, instantly choking and yanking it out of your mouth, only for it to be flung off the wooden stick and fly across the sidewalk, leaving a long, ice-blue streak of melting sugar syrup ending with a demolished hunk of discarded popsicle.

A seagull immediately appeared to peck at it.

You gawked, still clutching the wooden stick, Min Yoongi standing beside the bench you were sitting on.

"Why did you try to deep throat your popsicle?"

A second seagull arrived to peck at the icy hunk of sugar water.

Your mouth was still open, mechanically jerking to face him with fire-red cheeks, and it wasn’t because of the bright sunny weather. He looked very much like a disgruntled cat with his expression, black eyebrow raised, dark brown eyes narrowed, pink lips slightly pursed. Yoongi squinted disapprovingly from under his wide-brimmed straw hat. He wore a long-sleeved black shirt under a white t-shirt, breezy black trousers, and sandals.

Yoongi hated the sun.

A third seagull flapped down onto the boardwalk and joined the other two to poke at the rapidly melting mess on the ground.

"Um..."

He raised a hand dismissively, eyes flicking away from you. "On second thought, don't tell me. I don't want to know." Yoongi jammed his black clutch under his armpit and ripped open his own cold sweet treat, turning away from you to face the ocean.

A fourth seagull flocked over to peck one of them in the head and assist in devouring the ice pop.

"Hey, hyung, what flavor did you get?" a smooth baritone voice piped, appearing in an aqua-and-pink colorful shirt and brown shorts with snazzy sunglasses and tan skin.

You were staring at the four seagulls eating your ice lolly with glee, somewhat frozen yourself, feeling a mixture of jealous, mortified, and absolutely ready to chuck yourself into the ocean if Yoongi said anything to out you to Kim Taehyung right now.

"I don't know. I told them to pick one at random," the straw hat replied.

A fifth seagull appeared, slightly smaller than the rest, poking one in the neck and squawking before trying to prod at the puddle of blue syrup with a small chunk of ice in it.

"I got strawberry," Taehyung replied.

Two more seagulls swooped down, pushing the other five all around. All of them were now pecking at the ice-blue sugar syrup, honking and squawking. Like laughter. One of the seagulls had a weird cry, like a cloth rubbed onto wet glass.

Or a windshield wiper on a car window.

"Disgusting."

You narrowed your eyes at the seven seagulls.

We they... laughing at you?

"Strawberry-flavored things are the worst."

You jumped as someone sat down next to you, ripping open a paper package. He was wearing a short-sleeved pale pink dress shirt with a flashy tie and long blue shorts. A familiar someone dressed like this. He placed his backpack down next to you, smiling brilliantly. Full lips, sparkling brown eyes, milk chocolate-colored locks framing his handsome face.

Your boyfriend, Kim Seokjin.

"S-Seokjin!"

He grinned and leaned in, kissing you lightly. Then he became flustered and laughed awkwardly, a little squeaky, almost like a windshield wiper on a car window.

"Hah, sorry, you looked really cute just now."

You blinked rapidly.

Do you tell your boyfriend that you tried to deep throat your ice lolly in attempt to see if you could extend your tongue around the bottom because you read on a certain-website-not-to-be-named that it might be possible to suck dick and lick balls at the same time and you were determined to learn so you could perform said act?

And do you tell Seokjin that Min Yoongi caught you in the middle of it?

Er…

Seokjin cheerfully licked at his lemon ice pop, oblivious to your inner struggle.

"Where's yours? I thought you got one too?"

The seven seagulls cackled. You glared at them, ready to fight.

"Hyung."

Never mind, you paled to the color of rice paper as the deep voice with a little rasp to it appeared beside Seokjin, straw hat and all. You wished you could merge with your pastel floral summer dress and float off with the sea breeze, straight into the ocean after seeing the deadpan expression of Min Yoongi holding a mint green popsicle.

He looked bored, but his eyes were mocking you.

Asshole.

"She dropped it by accident."

"Ah, really?" Seokjin frowned, nudging you with his hand. "Here, have some of mine. I'll share with you." He wrapped his arm around you and patted your shoulder fondly, holding his ice lolly out to you. You felt your heart skip a little at his kindness and closeness.

Yoongi smirked behind Seokjin's head.

You narrowed your eyes at him.

The seven seagulls flapped off, flying above five guys standing near you three, eating icy sweet treats together on the boardwalk this sunny day, enjoying this nice retreat to the sea. A lone seagull popped out from behind a trashcan, trotting over, eyeing the wet spot of sugar syrup soaked into asphalt.

It slunk away in a back corner, dejected that there was nothing left.

"Come on, hurry before it melts."

You nibbled off a chunk. Mmm. Cold, lemony, and delicious. You smiled at Seokjin gratefully and he smiled back, warm and inviting, his cheeks puffing a little like the edges of raised bread. A little sheepish at the public display of affection, but unable to help it when he was with you.

"You might as well stick the whole thing in your mouth," Yoongi said off-handedly, walking away to the group of five guys, leaving you choking on the bench again as Seokjin rubbed your back soothingly, worriedly asking you what was wrong.

-

"YOU TRIED TO DEEP THROAT A POPSICLE?"

"Seokjinnie–"

"IN FRONT OF YOONGI?"

"Erm, it's not what it sounds like–"

"YOONGI???????"

“I swear it’s not what It sounds like!”

Seokjin yanked the towel off his head, half-dried brown hair sticking up every which way, gawping at you with a slack jaw and shocked brown eyes. He was wearing his emerald green silk pajamas, fresh after a nice shower from the hot day. You too, wore a set of pajamas, a matching outfit with Seokjin.

“It’s not what it sounds like?” he sputtered, flabbergasted, partly flabbered but mostly aghast.

You opened your mouth and closed it. Then you opened it again.

“Okay, it is what it sounds like, but–!”

Why did you bring this up now? Well, your boyfriend was asking you if you wanted to take some medicine and sleep early because you said you weren’t feeling well at dinner. He was a sweet bean and wanted the best for you, and the truth came out in mid-discussion. Seokjin and you had left earlier than everyone else, declining the scenic walk home, mostly because you could no longer stand Yoongi making snide remarks that meant nothing to anyone else except you.

“You might need a bit more force to suck up that thick milkshake. Or wait for it to melt.”

“That’s a pretty big piece of steak. Maybe you should cut it a bit smaller, so you don’t choke.”

“You sure you don’t want to stay for dessert? We could stop by the store and get you an ice lolly on our way home.”

You glared at him all evening.

Yoongi just smirked when Seokjin wasn’t looking.

Asshole.

“Why would you do that in public?” Seokjin was saying, yanking you back to reality and out of your daydreams of socking that smug little shit in the face. “Why would you do that at all?”

“G-Gah, it… it just… just occurred to me…”

“It occurred to you to suck an ice lolly like a dick?”

Seokjin looked as if he was going to pass out and divorce you at the same time and you weren’t even married yet.

“Why, because you’re going to suck frozen dick at some point in your life? Because my dick isn’t ever at subzero temperatures, so unless you’re sucking Mr. Freeze or Subzero’s dick–”

You waved your arms in a panicky manner, flapping your sleeves like a fucking seagull. “No, no, no, I read something online–”

“Oh, you read something online!” he exclaimed, wiggling in place, and now it sure as hell sounded like Kim Seokjin was mocking you while also being disappointed in you and if that wasn’t the most big dad energy you weren’t sure what was. “Yes, because that totally means you should perform fellatio on an ice pop in front of Yoongi of all fucking people! Are you trying to get bronchitis or something–”

“I admit it was a mistake!”

“A miss-take! It was a terrible take! Cut! Refilm! Actually, no, because maybe don’t try to give a blowjob to a fucking popsicle at the boardwalk in broad daylight!”

You smacked Seokjin in the chest and he looked highly offended, finally shutting up for one goddamn second so you could (poorly) explain your logic behind the incident.

“Look, Yoongi was not supposed to be there. At all. I got mine first and you all were deciding and arguing, so I decided to sit down and eat it, but then I noticed it was a specific length–”

Seokjin’s eyebrows rose so high they nearly left his face.

You prodded him in the pecs and he winced, pouting at you.

“So, I tried to put it in my mouth, but then Yoongi showed up and fucking spooked me and I jabbed myself in the throat because I was surprised and ended up rocket-launching my ice lolly across the sidewalk and then these fucking seagulls showed up, those bastards–”

“None of this explains why you tried to do it in the first place.”

“Uh…”

Your eyes shifted awkwardly.

Seokjin impatiently tapped his naked wrist that had no watch on it.

“I read it… in an online smut story I was reading…”

You perfectly handsome boyfriend might actually get a wrinkle if he continued to raise his eyebrows to the fucking moon. “You do what?”

You poked your index fingers together, biting your lip. “Because… I’m not very good at it… so I was thinking maybe I could learn some tips or something…”

“What?”

Now his voice was soft, immediately dropping the act and his anger. You saw him reach out and place his hand over yours, wrapping his fingers around tightly, tugging. You looked up and he tilted his head, brow knitted in worry.

“Hey,” Seokjin frowned, full lower lip sticking out. “What do you mean, you’re not good at it? You are. I like everything you do.”

You chewed on your lip anxiously. “But… but…” It was a stupid thought and, honestly, not that big of a deal, but it had been eating away at you for a while, so you just winced and let it out.

“You never finish with my mouth.”

Rapid blinking was his response. His eyebrows disappeared under his brown hair again.

“And it bothers me. You always finish with your hand into my mouth, but I can’t seem to do it by myself.”

Seokjin’s lips parted, looking apologetic. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

You wrung your hands, loosening his grip on you. “I don’t know, it seems weird to say in the moment and it’s embarrassing… I thought maybe I wasn’t good enough…”

“No, no,” he said gently, holding your shoulders and shaking his head. “I...” His ears turned bright red and he swallowed. “I just like… seeing it shoot out into your mouth.” He coughed awkwardly, squeezing your shoulders. “It’s, er, nice, watching my cum drip onto your tongue and lips…” Seokjin cleared his throat and smiled, cheeks puffing out, looking a bit like the sides of freshly baked bread. “I didn’t realize my selfishness was making you feel inadequate. That’s not it at all. I only wanted to make it easier on you, and, cough, it’s kind of hot…”

“O… oh.”

He patted your shoulder fondly. “It’s only a misunderstanding. We can do whatever you want next time, okay? I’m sorry I made you feel that way. I will do better.”

You nodded and smiled, feeling much more relieved about the whole thing. Seokjin always had the ability to help you let things go, and it always made you feel a little lighter. It was part of the past now and you wouldn’t be bothered if Yoongi teased you any longer, because you had the best boyfriend in the whole world. There was no need to feel embarrassed.

You wrapped your arms around Seokjin and gave him a big, fierce hug.

Only to be impaled in the lower stomach.

“Ow!”

“Ack!”

You jerked back, whipping your head down.

“No, no, no, stop! Stop looking!”

“Why are you hard?!”

Seokjin waved his arms and abruptly flapped his hands down on his massive tent. “We were talking about blowjobs! And you! What do you think is going to happen?” he spluttered, the red creeping from his ears to his cheeks now, matching the exact shades used on merchandise during Christmas time with emerald green pajamas and a red face.

You gawked at him and he gawked back.

Wait.

“This is a perfect chance!”

“No, no, no, it is not, cease and desist, woman! Everyone is coming back soo–Gah!”

There was flurry of movement and Seokjin’s pajama pants were flung off, along with his shirt, and you were pushing him down onto the bed, him panicking the entire time, but he couldn’t have been that mad about it, because he was helping you by backing up, yelping as you hooked your fingers over the waistband of his underwear and yanked down, freeing his erection that nearly slapped you in the face.

“You trying to take out my eyeball?” you teased, grinning.

“You assaulting me and you’re upset that I’m fighting back?” Seokjin retorted, trying to hide his smile and be serious, but he was terrible at that and so were you, both of you grinning like a pair of idiots.

Well, you were certainly a little bit of an idiot for trying to deep throat a – you’re right, we’ll let it go (for now).

“I learned some things,” you said excitedly, forcing his legs open abruptly and making him squeak.

“Things? Ack!”

You leaned down and lifted his hard length up delicately, licking a fat stripe from base to tip, sighing softly as you came into contact with the velvety skin and his clean scent, Seokjin gasping above you, but suddenly this was not about him, this was about the cock in front of you and all the information you had complied to this point, ready to apply your learning. You wrapped your lips around the head, swiping your tongue on the underside, and Seokjin groaned, hips twitching but you grabbed them and pressed them firmly to the bed, shooting him a glare.

“Don’t interrupt me,” you growled around his dick.

He gave you a helpless frown. “Hello, I’m still attached to this di–”

You stared at him and slid your tongue out from your lips, swirling it around his girth, pressing the sensitive tip around the contours of your mouth, his eyes widening as he witnessed spit dripping from the wet muscle.

“O… oh…”

You let your eyes drift over his form, slowly, slowly, savoring the lines of his body, broad shoulders, shapely collarbones, the curve downwards to his trim waist, all the while taking him your mouth, tongue and lips soft and mouth tight, breathing deeply, eyes flickering up to his face and his expanding pupils, watching you with awe.

“Holy shit… and you’re not even naked… o-oh, fuck…”

You cocked an eyebrow, probably looking much more confident than you actually felt, but that didn’t matter. Fake it till you make it, right? And besides, every protagonist in every story has a moment of letting go and having courage and this was your moment, inorganic or not, flexing your tongue against Seokjin’s ever stiffening length, his breathing turning into wispy moans, watching you poised over him with his dick in your mouth, still wearing the silk pajamas and yet.

He watched you with amazement, love and lust in his brown orbs.

“You’re the most beautiful woman in the world.”

Your ears burned hot and you tried not to choke on his dick in embarrassment.

Don’t ruin the moment!

Somehow you managed not to freak out and pressed your lips to the base of his cock, hitting his crotch, the uncomfortable feeling of too full expanding your throat, the head practically plugging your airway, but one glance at Seokjin and the suffocation was worth it, seeing him tip his head back, messy brown hair sliding past his forehead, groaning your name with his eyes closed.

You pulled back a little, took a breath, and went back down for the kill.

“What the fuck…?”

Lower lip opening, tongue stretching out, only able to move the tip a bit at the top of his balls. Hm. This wasn’t working. You adjusted and cupped a hand under them, lifting the two soft mounds and pressing them to your chin, your tongue swiping out over them, his dick bending a little in your mouth (more flexible and a lot warmer than an ice lolly, by the way), and Seokjin was losing it above you, shuddering and whining, a mix of curses and your name as you turned your head to get a different angle, the tip of his cock pushed to one side of your throat, determined to see what was most comfortable and got you the best reaction, saliva coating his balls and causing them to become more slippery. You furrowed your brows and gripped his balls tighter, smearing the slick liquid over the soft skin and Seokjin moaned obscenely loudly, falling onto the bed, back arching.

“Oooh, fuck, fuck, fuck…”

Abruptly, your throat spasmed, reminding you that needed to breathe, and you pulled back, coughing and panting slightly.

“Does that feel good?” you wheezed. Not the sexiest. You grimaced and cleared your throat, asking again. “Did that feel good for you?”

Seokjin tipped his head up, brown eyes glazed over, breathing hard. “Ah… It feels nice, but I don’t think I could finish with that…” Your frown deepened, but he shook his head, sending his brown hair floating everywhere. “It’s not tight enough. But it’s an insane turn on, so I think I could cum faster after…” He coughed, cheeks flushing. “After feeling and seeing it, you know?”

Your frown erased and you nodded, gently rubbing his soaked balls, seeing him shiver and his breathing shallow. “I think I understand, yeah.”

“Can… ah, can you finish me, p-please, ack, you k-keep – fuuuuuuuck…”

You went down again, but this time your focus was on the tightness of your mouth, tongue sliding from side to side, bobbing your head in a smooth, swift motion, keeping your lips soft, eyes closing as you felt his cock twitch inside your mouth, completely focused on the sensation of Seokjin in between your lips, breathing him in, the soft scent of fresh soap and his sweetness, trying to remember if there was anything you had forgotten.

Ah, yes!

You tipped your head back slightly and Seokjin cried out, heady and erotic, as the head of his cock dragged along the roof of your mouth before burying into your throat, over and over, hot saliva and a squirming tongue amplifying the sensation, realizing you needed to relax your throat but clench your mouth muscles while relaxing your lips and doing all this while keeping track of where his cock was going in your mouth so you didn’t accidentally choke on his dick.

A whole new level of multitasking.

Was the writer of that erotica you were reading some kind of sex god, because what the fuck–

But it didn’t matter, because even if it was sloppy and you couldn’t focus on all these things simultaneously, Seokjin was feeling only pleasure, fingers curling in the sheets, barely able to choke out his words through his moans.

“F-Faster, please…”

Faster? You could barely keep up as it was!

“Please…” he whined and you obeyed immediately, faster it was, because you were weak for him, weak for Kim Seokjin and his pleading face, pupils so blown out he seemed intoxicated, drunk on pleasure, and that made you aroused too, seeing your effect of him, tightening ever more and increasing the pace, the wet smacking sounds quickening, echoing in the bedroom with his lustful groans of your name, so sweet and loving that if you weren’t going to pass out from how fast you were going, you were surely going to pass out from the overwhelming adoration in his eyes. It made you push for a little bit more, push your limits a little harder, made you feel like you could do this.

For him.

“Oh, fuck, I’m gonna cum, fuck!”

Seokjin gripped the sheets tight and threw his head back, chest expanding with a low moan, thrusting his hips up and cock jolting, shooting thick streams into your throat, and your eyes widened, forced to stop, feeling his cum pool, creamy and viscous, tasting the delicious saltiness at the base of your tongue, your eyelids fluttering a little at the feeling of the tip rutting against the roof of your mouth and more dribbling out, coating the inside of your mouth.

Oh.

Oooh, fuck, it felt good.

You swallowed, feeling victorious and insanely horny, tongue circling round and round his flinching stiffness, able to sense the pulse and his shudders, descending again because you couldn’t get enough, so good, the feeling of him still in your mouth, him shivering at your persistent licks and light sucks, stroking his hips and moaning at the skin to skin.

The front door banged open downstairs and there was a lot of laughing and shouting.

Your eyes snapped open and Seokjin looked back at you in sheer panic.

The footsteps up the stairs proved they were being taken two at a time.

“Shit.”

Never had Seokjin yanked his cock so fast out of your lips (sad) and snatched his underwear and pajamas, bolting to the bathroom and throwing himself in there in record time the literal second the bedroom door was yanked open by rambunctious strength and a grin whose front teeth were ever-so-slightly too large for his face.

“Hyung, noona!”

You were laying with your head in your hand and your elbow on the bed, which was probably too sexual and weird for Jeon Jungkook, but that was all you got that this moment. He gave you a slightly disturbed and confused look under his big black bucket hat.

“Where’s hyung?”

You coughed and lowered your hand, trying to get in a less awkward position. “B-bathroom…” you rasped. Oh no. Did you go too hard? You sounded a bit like the crypt keeper. Fortunately, you didn’t look like one, so there was that. You rubbed your throat, wincing at the soreness. You definitely went a bit rough. You weren’t no young spring chicken anymore. You were going to feel that in the morning.

Sacrifices had to be made.

Jungkook pouted, bounding up to you and tilting his head. He was a moving black fabric mountain with his long-sleeved shirt and billowy shorts. “Are you really sick, noona? Do you want hot tea or some milk?”

Oh my God, Jungkook, I just sucked some dick and that’s why I sound dead.

Don’t say that.

“I… I’ll be fine, Jungkook. Did you have a nice walk?”

“Oh, yeah! There were fireworks! I think the city was celebrating something, and it was so colorful and pretty…”

You sat there and nodded, trying to listen intently while trying not to think about how Seokjin was in the bathroom rinsing off his saliva and cum-covered dick literal meters from you and oblivious Jungkook.

You saw movement behind Jungkook’s excitedly bouncing head. No straw hat, just black hair flattened against his forehead, covering his cat-like, dark brown eyes.

Yoongi.

He smirked, holding up a box.

Frozen ice lollys, the fizzy soda flavor that was light blue.

A muscle in your eye twitched.

Asshole.

--

masterpost

[thithesandofferings]

“Open Wide”- Ogami Shirou x Reader

TW: 18+ MINORS DNI!! Dom!Shirou/Sub!FemReader, Comeplay, Choking, Voice Kink, Rough Sex, Praise Kink, Degradation, lil bit Size Kink SMUT!!

This is bad .

“Look at you Alan, I thought you said Purebloods didnt get Nirvalys Syndrome? Let me put in into you, before you lose your mind”

Who says stuff like that to the enemy? Ive never seen Shiro this angry before. Especially to say words like that. He barely speaks at all most days. Only when he absolutely has to. This should surprise me or- or stress me out but-

It's so hot.

Link to my Ao3 for this fic= https://archiveofourown.org/works/25414948

This is bad .

“Look at you Alan, I thought you said Purebloods didnt get Nirvalys Syndrome? Let me put it into you, before you lose your mind”

Who says stuff like that to the enemy? Ive never seen Shirou this angry before. Especially to say words such as that. He barely speaks at all most days. Only when he has to. This should surprise me or- or stress me out but-

It's so hot.

“Hey you! Look alive we gotta go!” Michiru yelled, startling me out of a downward spiral.

She was right. I had to get out of there before the place was destroyed to shreds. I could barely think. All I could think about was Shirou splitting that evil bastard's mouth open and putting his power inside it.

I couldnt help but feel jealous.

His wolf had such a presence on its own, how could I not be affected.

I needed to get it together, there were still people that needed to be saved. I shook my head and ran after Michiru towards Shirou. She was chattering excitedly, but I honestly couldnt understand anything she was saying. My eyes were on him.

He must’ve caught something in my gaze because he turned his attention to me.

“You okay?” His voice was gruff from exertion and I had to take a calming breath from the shiver that coursed down my spine. He caught that too.

“I should be asking you that Shirou” I looked away, but with a sideways glance I grumbled that he was, in fact, amazing. He raised his nose a notch, almost an afterthought,  and I could see him take a deep breath.

With his penetrating gaze solely on mine, I could feel my pulse jump and my temperature rack up a thousand degrees, I had to look away. He scoffed, almost smugly, and slid attention back to Michiru, who was still talking and running around. Something about having Shirou howl to the town.

We watched as he changed into his silver wolf form again to howl into the microphone. It was a beautiful site to see. Seeing all the animals completely stop what they were doing just to howl with him. Alan had no idea what he had been talking about.

Shirou had the Howl.

Michiro and I could only watch in awe. We were born human turned animals so we didnt have the innate instinct to go along with him. It was such an eye-opening experience, so much so that I felt a little empty at not being able to do it. Shirou looked so regal, the urge to fall on my knees in front of him was an encompassing feeling.

Shaking violently at the thought, I had to blow out a long soul-suffering sigh. Michiru glanced with eyebrows in an “are you okay” motion and I could only just nod.

What is going on with me? Where are my thoughts?

I had hoped that thoughts of Shirou would leave. The attention was of us and finally life was, in all intensive purposes, back to normal. Michiru was able to hang out with her fellow friends, and I- was able to start my work in the office.

Except, I could get nothing done.

Shirou was constantly in my peripheral, working on whatever case was in that week. But when he wasnt there, he was in my mind whispering in his growling voice about the things he could do to me.

I was dying.

There would be times where I would stare at a research book, never turning the page, just staring. It was becoming so hectic that Shirou asked if I needed time off.

“I know its been hard for everyone” Shirou had said. He had been in that leather jacket again. Who wears gloves inside? Why was it so hot?

Its not fair.

“What's not fair?” I looked up from his gloved hands and I could feel my heart rate sky rocket in panic.

I said that out loud.

His gaze is so piercing, it felt like he was staring into my soul. He was leaning on my door frame, completely relaxed. His usual bored expression was placed with something that was almost- teasing? Not that couldnt be right.

But it had been the same expression and mood for weeks now. His casual bumps and grins were so much that Ive had to actively avoid him before I had a heart attack. I wasnt in control of my emotions half the time, so any sort of embarrassment would make me change into my animal form. Even through his cold demeanor, it still seemed like he was laughing at me. I'm sure he could tell that I was flustered, especially when he turned into his wolf form. It always made my blood pressure go up and something slick slide down my thighs.

Which is what was happening now.

Oh no.

I prayed that he wouldnt notice anything amiss, but the world wasnt on my side. He lifted his nose up again and sniffed. It was as if he was trying to find someone miles away, but when he finally looked towards me, his pupils were wide open. Alert.

“You never answered my question.”

There was a hitch in my breath at that tone. That growl that Ive been dreaming about for weeks.

I’m so fucked.

“I-i uhm… sorry what?” I could feel myself blinking rapidly. I couldn’t get my thoughts in order. This was getting ridiculous.

“You humans are very odd,” Shirou rose up from the door, and for a moment I felt relief only to freeze when he closed my door.

With him still inside. We’re alone.

“You even more so.”

He walked slowly towards my desk. Well more like prowled. There was intent in his walk.

I’ve never felt more like prey than right now.

“I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me” He’s whispering now. His gloved fingers gently spread out to the edge of my desk and he leans over it.

He’s so close.

“I smell you all day. Its intoxicating.” One hand lifts up and brushes my cheek, I know he can feel the heat.

“You’re the first human that I have ever wanted”

I froze.

Hes been feeling the same? From his expression and the dropping of at least two octaves, it was definitely confirmed.

“I- uh I want you too” My voice was hoarse from emotion. He could hear it just fine it seemed because if his pupils werent blown out before, they sure were now.

Shirou visibly licked his lips and I couldn’t help but follow the motion. He watched me watch him and he grinned, showing his fangs in satisfaction.

“Good because I plan to devour you. Stand up”

I could barely hear the order due to his growling. His ravenous expression was drowning me. I was swimming in heat and desire.

“I wont ask again”

Shirous’ voice snapped me back into reality and with shaky sweaty palms I pushed my chair away and stood. He never told me to move so I just stayed there. He seemed very pleased that I didn’t move.

Not like I could, I was barely able to breathe.

He stalked slowly around my desk until he was behind me, moving the chair completely across the room. It crashed into a plant and I jumped, still not moving an inch.

I could feel his breath across my nape and goosebumps coursed down my skin. I could feel him smelling my hair, breathing in the sweat that I felt that I was pouring out. I tried to move away, embarrassed, but I could feel his grip tighten and him growl at my into my neck.

“Stay still” He whispered. “You can be a good girl and do that for me right?”

I froze at the pet name. I’ve never heard him call me anything other than my last name. I couldn’t believe how it affected at me. I could feel myself become even more drenched.

He could tell.

“Oh? You like that huh?”

I felt his leathered hands slide slowly underneath my shirt and palm my breast. I gasped, my head falling on his shoulder at the groping. This was getting intense fast. I heard something tearing and tried to glance down only to have one of his hands press lightly at my neck. Holding me still.

Shirou shushed me, keeping his hand curled around my throat. Murmuring something about not needing this or that, I felt fabric fall at my feet and my chest became covered in hot leather. I let out a choked moan, only to have his grip tightened.

“You’re gonna have to be a quiet pup, you don't want all your colleagues to know what you're doing right?” He was so mocking, I couldnt help but feel flustered with how demeaning he sounded.

I nodded knowing I couldnt say anything in this position.

“Thats right, good girl, now go on bend over the desk” He slipped his hands away and disorientation readily slid back into my head.

I laid over my desk, paper be damned, and wrapped my hands over the edge to hold on. I heard him growl in confirmation at the act and I preened at the act of pleasing him.

I’ve never felt this way. I was completely ok with him taking the reigns. I didnt have many braincells left, I could barely think. All I could do was just do.

Shirou hands caressed my ass in appreciation, his ungloved hand (when had that happened?) made a purposeful track up to my waistband, hastily taking them off. I was completely soaked and hearing him swear obscenities definitely didnt help.

“I can’t wait to knot you, pup” I felt his weight against me, his bare chest completely covering my whole body. He was so warm, degrees hotter than his normal, his breath hot on my cheek as he licked my face from chin to forehead.

“The real question is,” he says through licks down my spine. “Which form do I want to take you hm?” I shivered violently at the thought of Shirou taking me in my wolf form. Outside of Anima city it is forbidden to have any of those kind of thoughts. But you couldnt help that you constantly thought about Shirou fucking you in his wolf form.

I could hear his deep chuckle at my spine. He knew my answer.

I felt him nose my wetness and my breath hitches. It didnt last for more than 5 seconds and I could hear myself grown out against the desk.

“I would love to taste you, but unfortunately we dont have that kind of time.” There was a zipping noise and I tensed, gushing even more at the thought of what it could be.

“I would need hours to be satisfied from your taste” He is suddenly in my ear. “But I plan to fuck you like you need it.”

I could hear myself mewling at the thought. I’ve been wanting this for weeks. I cant believe someone like Shirou even wants to touch me. Shirou, cool-mannered and distant, wants to fuck me five ways to Sunday is honeslty an eye opening experience.

There is a clicking sound and I gasped. I was so absorbed in my thoughts that I didnt feel the fingers. I could feel myself clenching around and my mewling became even louder. Colleagues be damned.

There was an surprised hum from behind me.

“You’ve been touching yourself?” All I could do was nod embarrassed. He cooed sweetly and added 3 fingers inside of me.

“What were you thinking about? Were you thinking of me? Tell me” I gasped in affirmations. I couldnt take it anymore. I needed inside of me now.

I felt like I was going to die.

“P-please Shiro, I need it.”

“You need what pup?” He grinned savagely and I felt something hard and hot against me.

I wiggled in frustration. Only to have him laugh and hold my hips still. Using his strength to make me stay still.

I was going to have bruises.

“Please fuck me Shirou” I whispered into my shoulder. I knew he could hear me. I felt my chest tighten at the gasp and growl.

“Good girl.” I shivered and gasped as he pushed the head in with a savage force of his hips.

“I wont hold back pup” He laid his furry chest against my back “You might be ruined for any one else.”

“I dont want you to Shirou, give me your all”

A growl was heard and then the most intense feeling of my life was radiating through my whole body.

He thrusted so hard that I could hear the desk screeching. The other colleagues, if they were still there, would definitely hear it. I prayed that they weren’t gonna check to see if I was okay. I wouldnt be able to speak anyways. I’m pretty much holding on dear life on the desk. There was no way I was able to explain anything.

Shirou didn’t seem to care either. The constant growling and heavy breathing that was coming from him was telling.

“Youre so tight, I cant believe all of me fit inside of you” He groaned and all I could do was tighten around him, which made him go even faster. There was a crack from the desk, but I ignored it. All I could concentrate on was the heat and his cock bruising my insides.

“Mine mine mine MINE” He stopped abruptly and pulled out. Only to pick me up effortlessly and turn me around, my back hitting the desk.

He entered me again and with that the world was crashing around me. I’d never come so fast in my life. Watching him in his wolf form growl over me as he pounded me into the afterlife, I wasnt gonna last long.

Seemed like he wasnt either, his thrust got more savage and I got louder. He took his right hand and placed it at my throat again to cut off the noise.

“Be quiet while I shove my knot inside you, I need to concentrate” It made me fall again, shivering while he grinded his knot inside me. He came with a roar, tightening his hands on my throat, cutting off my sound.

“Shhhh, good girl, you did so good” He whispered praises to me while he continued to grind himself inside me. He lifted his hand and I gasped dazed.

He looked up at me and caught my disheveled appearance and grinned.

“Dont move, I’m not done.”

I returned the grin.

“Good Shirou, cause neither am I”

[omiscurls]

Hello you precious human! I saw you're taking request and I thought of something.. mabye you have an idea for this one, if not just ignore the ask >.< what if diluc and zhongli (seperate) don't know that their s/o is an artist and one day their sweetheart gifts them a full ass beautiful portrait of them. Maybe they had a hard day and you wanna make them feel better and surprise them or it's an anniversary gift idk, go wild with it ♡

Have a nice day ! Ily and thanks!

gift(ed)

a/n: thank you for this absolutely lovely ask! hope you enjoy reading this!

plot: the reader makes the character a portrait of them

contains: diluc, zhongli

warnings: none!

diluc

you know he hates his birthday, for very obvious reason

but what hurts even more when you hear it, is that from what his old friends say, he used to love it, once

it hurts to think that it became one more aspect of himself he has grown to forget

so you decide to do something about it

you know very well he doesn’t want any celebrations to be held, so therefore he also denies any gifts, but you can only hope he’ll accept this one

you work your ass off for a good long while, wanting it to be absolutely perfect, not one flaw on your canvas, worried he’d notice right away

when the time comes to finally gift it to him, you’re stressed beyond reason, sweaty palms probably ruining the nice packaging that covers the result of your relentless efforts. you have arranged to meet with diluc on starsnatch cliff, hoping to do it casually enough for him not to notice it’s a birthday thing, but also sure he will know, he’s far too intelligent to fall for anything like this, after all.

the sun begins to set as you sit down on the edge of the cliff, testing how far away from the stone can you move your foot without starting to feel dizzy.

the grass is already getting cold from the humidity of the night air, and you wonder if you should stand up after all, so not to stain your outfit.

it’s only a call of your boyfriend that rips you away from your train of thought.

“darling?” is what diluc says, voice uncertain as he stands below you “you asked to see me?”

you turn around, a welcoming smile crawling up your lips, and even though he doesn’t know the reason he’s here for yet, he already thinks it was worth it, just to see you, smiling like that in the field of cecilias.

“you’re here!” you exclaim happily, almost making him chuckle, because how could he not if it was you who asked?

you get up, careful not to show him the package behind your back too soon. he takes a big step forward, arm already securing you from the edge, hovering around your waist, but not touching you, still.

“let’s get further away from the edge, shall we?” he asks softly, and although you want to laugh at his endless worries, the love and care in his voice makes you swoon internally. “so?” he asks after making sure for your safety. “what’s with the scenery?”

“well” you grin, looking down at your feet, over the minute he’s been here he already managed to make you forget everything you had on your mind. “don’t take it as a birthday gift, cause it’s not that!” you explain rapidly, shaking your head “the only thing i wanted was to make you smile, or, i don’t know, the thing is, i hope you like it-“

you don’t quite know what to say, but diluc chooses to surprise you with a soft look you so rarely get to see.

“darling, it’s not like i have a phobia for birthday gifts or something” he assures “it just feels a bit weird to celebrate myself on such an anniversary, but i’m honored that you spent your time with me on your mind, i really am”

you feel more confident with that on your mind, and you hand him your gift.

he takes it, raising an eyebrow, slowly untying the ribbon you ornamented the packaging with. as he slowly unwraps the paper, his eyes notice something he genuinely didn’t expect. 

it’s a painting of him, or at least he thinks so, smiling with his eyes closed, hand tilted and resting on his hand, slight blush creeping up his cheeks. he wonders if that’s really him, but the physical resemblance is unquestionable, even though he doesn’t remember the last time he has seen this kind of expression on his face. 

“i-” he attempts to speak up, but stutters “where have you had this ordered?” 

you grin even wider, knowing the biggest surprise is yet to be dawned upon him. 

“i didn’t” you explain “i painted it myself, do you like it?” 

you catch a sparkle shoot through his eyes before he lifts them up from the painting to find yours. 

“no, really?” he asks in shock, quickly going back to admiring the gift. “it’s- you’re- you’re very talented, do you know that? it’s so detailed-” he shakes his head slightly, having a hard time comprehending all that was happening. 

“i managed to sneak a photo of you on our anniversary dinner” you say “i wouldn’t be able to paint this without a reference, plus, i’d like you to know what moment i based this on. if i’m able to make you smile like that from time to time, then i never want to stop.” 

you can swear his eyes glisten with a thin layer of tears forming, but he blinks them back as soon as possible, and you can’t get a good look. instead, he looks at you again, love practically seeping through his gaze. 

“thank you” he says quietly, smiling just how you like it, not even fully aware that he is. he approaches you to wrap an arm around you and press a quick peck to your forehead. “this just might be the best birthday i’ve ever had.” 

zhongli 

you’ve been to someone’s birthday party together 

and it came in the conversation between the two of you that he has never received a proper gift 

offering is not a gift 

it was a whole deal, with choosing the present for that person, wrapping it up, decorating...

and you decided - why not just make him something, with no occasion necessary? maybe he’ll like it, maybe he’ll just acknowledge it’s existence, worth a shot 

so there you are, waiting outside the parlor, gripping on the package in your hands, and waiting for him to come out. 

it feels like ages since the moment you arrived, but can’t be longer than a couple of minutes. zhongli has no liking to material possesions, and you’re aware of that, so you’re hoping he’ll value the effort and thought you’ve put into your gift. you know he’d never hurt your feelings, not on purpose, at the very least, but you’re still kind of worried. 

“hello there” you almost jump out in surprise as you hear a tranquil voice behind you. 

“oh my, you scared me!” you let out a breathy laugh, but he seems to have ignored your comment. 

“have you been waiting long?” he asks instead, to which you shake your head slightly. 

“no.” you say immediately, a gentle smile welcoming him as always. he nods and attempts to take your hand, intent to go on a walk in his mind, but stops, surprised as he feels the rectangular object in your hand. 

“oh, are we planning to go to someone’s party again today? i wish you’d included me in the gift picking process this time too, it was entertaining the last we did it” even though he says that, no disappointment shows up behind his eyes as he waits for your response. 

“ah, no, you see-” you take a breath “that’s actually for you” 

his eyebrow rises ever so slightly as he mentally studies what date is today and if he has forgotten about anything. 

“oh” he finally mumbles “and may i ask to what do i owe the pleasure?” 

his talent with words seems to be on his side, and he’s apparently able to talk himself out of the confusion you put him in. 

“to absolutely nothing” you shrug, smile growing bigger, as his mind spins even harder, not getting the point more now. “other than being my amazing person.” you add. 

he feels his heart flutter in a weird pattern, but ignores it as you place the gift in his hands. he just sort of looks at it for a while, and you’re already scared he’s going to say something unexpectable, but instead he starts to unwrap the thing gently and carefully. 

you watch his eyes widen as he sees himself, painted by your hand, the softest of smiles painting his expression in warm colours. to you, that’s just how he looks everyday, but to him?

this is just one of many forms to him. he doesn’t look in mirrors a lot, he doesn’t pay much mind to it, he never studies his appearance how others do. he doesn’t get insecure in a way humans do. 

it feels foreign to look at the picture. it feels as if he’s looking at someone, indoubtly at himself, but through your eyes instead. he never knew his eyes looked this kind, and that the corners of his lips didn’t lift evenly when he smiled, instead having one slightly above the other. 

you notice so many things, he realizes, and he looks up at you, a wandering gaze searching for your eyes, as he struggles to comprehend just how wonderful of a chance he had gotten to meet you. 

he had seen miracles come to life and crumble before him, but never once had he though he’d be one to witness something as beautiful as your love and your affections are. 

meanwhile you wonder if he’s searching for the right words to say you “just shouldn’t have” 

you almost speak up, about how you just felt like doing something like this, and he doesn’t have to keep it, or something, but he manages to comment before you do. 

“your work is gorgeous, dear.” he says blandly, but quickly adds “but you’re the best gift i could ever encounter.”

[helliontherapscallion]

Phantasmagoria (Adrenaline Junkie Part 16)

Part 1     Part 2     Part 3     Part 4     Part 5     Part 6     Part 7     Part 8     Part 9     Part 10     Part 11     Part 12     Part 13     Part 14     Part 15     Part 17

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of injuries, death, depersonalization, grief

REMINDER: you are real. the topics discussed in this is fiction and not reality. you are loved and valid, hydrate and eat 3 meals a day <3

Word count: 2,645

You were in and out of it for the next few days. Whenever your eyes would crack open and you would even slightly move your arm, you would be in immense pain before you would pass out again. You could sometimes hear the voices of your family talking to you, but never Arthur. Good, he definitely shouldn’t see you like this. 

Whenever you heard Philza, he would be talking to you about all the journeys he’s been on in his hundreds of years of living. Oh yeah, you found out that he was an immortal being that can’t die. Your brain was too tired and clouded to contemplate it. 

Whenever you heard Technoblade, his monotone and deep voice always eased your worries. It gave you something to focus on; if anything, his voice was the one that cut through the fog the most. He would always recite Greek myths to you, often telling you that you reminded him of a few characters. 

Whenever you heard Wilbur, all you heard was him asking you questions such as ‘how was your day’ or ‘what do you think of someone-so’. He would talk to you as if you were conscious, often having one sided conversations with you. Sometimes he would bring his guitar and compose new songs, asking you if he should keep a lyric or if he should throw it away. 

Whenever you heard Tommy, it broke your weak heart. It was like your little brother was a completely different person; his usually loud and upbeat tone was reduced to a quiet and broken one. He was the one that wouldn’t talk much, instead he would sit with you and eventually after a day or two (you think) of silence he would play his jukebox. But whenever he did talk (which was rare) he would tell you how scared he was seeing you like that on the table. 

As time passed, you could feel yourself slipping deeper and deeper into your subconscious. It was like you were fading away, but you couldn’t fight against it. You wouldn’t fight against it; you could feel your pain fading and it was a great relief. You only wished you could hear your family’s voices before you completely left them, they were fading as well. Eventually, everything slipped into nothingness and you felt… euphoric. 

When you opened your eyes, everything was black. You were sure that you had your eyes open, so why was everything so dark? Was this the afterlife? You expected it to be more… heavenly. However, you weren’t complaining; your entire body felt light and you felt waves of peace waft over you. This was nice. You didn’t have much time to relax while you were living. 

After a while of staring into nothingness and just peacefully floating in one place, you became restless. Sure this was nice, but your hands itched to tinker with something. You’ve never done well with sitting in one place for too long, that’s always been your weakness. You tried to push your body off from anything so you could at least float around, but that proved useless when there was nothing to push off from. When you tried flapping your wings- well, wing- you only succeeded in spinning in circles. At least you thought you were spinning in circles, the inky abyss was unchanging and it was starting to mess with your perception. Your senses felt like they were deprived, but the worst thing about it was the overwhelming silence. 

So, you talked to yourself to fill the ringing silence. You were merely voicing your thoughts, repeating your lessons you’ve taught Arthur over the last few weeks. After a while, you were running out of things to talk to yourself about. So, you sighed and crossed your arms. They were very pale, you were actually dead this time, huh? You could only wait to see your brothers and Arthur when it was their time, hoping that they wouldn’t come to you too soon. It pained you to remember that you would probably never see Philza again, but who knows; the universe has a strange way of working. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you, (y/n).” You screamed at the soft voice that cut through the overwhelming silence and whipped your head around. There stood a woman that looked to be in her early thirties with long black hair and tanned skin. You could not see the upper half of her face as it was covered by a crow mask, however her eyes glowed a bright white. She was smiling at you with melancholy and bittersweet happiness. The two giant white feathered wings sprouted from her back were glowing slightly. The powerful and intense aura that loomed around her was the complete antithesis of the gentle smile she was giving you. 

“Calm down,” she flew over to you and wove her hand in the air. You immediately felt a wave of calm ease over you. “That’s better. You’ve been through so much, my little fledgling.” Her little fledgling? That was something you’ve recently started to call Arthur. 

“Who are you?”

“Oh where are my manners? I’m Kristin, the Goddess of Death. I wish I didn’t have to do this, but I’m here for your life.” You hummed, “that makes sense.” She tilted her head slightly and somehow the eyeholes of the mask morphed into an eyebrow raise. Was that her actual face? “You’re not scared of death?” 

“No, I’ve already died twice- no, three times already. But this is- it’s different. Is that because I’ve lost my last life?”

“You’ll find out in due time. Ender, you’re everything Phil described you as and then some.”

You perked up slightly, “you know my Dad?” Her airy chuckle brought you even more at ease, “of course I do, he’s my husband.”

You gaped at her, “so does that- does that make you my mom?”

“Only if you’re comfortable with it, I wouldn’t want to push you into something you didn’t want.”

“I’ve always wanted a mom. D-don’t get me wrong, Dad’s done more than enough for me he’s an amazing parent-”

“I understand and I’d love to be the mother of someone so smart. You’re destined to do great things one day, my little fledgling.” You tilted your head slightly, “greater than being an inventor?”

She nodded, her black locks swaying with the movement, “greater than being an inventor. Our time together is coming to a close.” She flew over gracefully and pulled you into a hug. You reciprocated it. Her hug felt warm and welcoming. It was hard to believe that she was the Goddess of Death, you always thought Kristin would be ruthless and cruel. 

“You will face many trials and tribulations and you must persevere through them. This is indeed your reality, but you share it. Do not be afraid to ask for help. The world can be a lonely place, but remember that you are never truly alone.” 

She pulled away from you and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, the beak of her mask poking you. Suddenly, the weightlessness feeling disappeared and you felt a tugging sensation from deep within your chest. Your body was sent flying through the abyss, the gripping sensation you felt in your inner chest felt very intimate somehow. After a bit of screaming, you were still flying through the void. You had no idea how long you were flying for, but eventually you just crossed your arms and went limp in the mysterious embrace. Aaaanny time now. 

Eventually you saw a pinprick of light far off into the distance and it was rapidly approaching you. You sighed out a drawn out “finally.” And watched as it came at you at mach speed. After you crashed into it, everything went white. 

You jolted up with wide eyes and looked around panting. You saw the walls of your childhood room? So you didn’t die? Then what the hell were you doing in the void? You were so sure that you died permanently. That you lost your last life. When you glanced out the window, everything was dark. When you sat up, you felt the familiar tugging sensation of the scar tissue around the base of your wing, except it was less intense and you had less mobility in your right shoulder. You glanced at the hearts on your wrist expecting to see three empty outlines. Instead, two ruby red hearts stared at you.

Impossible. Impossible. You were in your last life so even if you didn’t die, you should still only be in your last life. Your second life was taken from you in an explosion. It should not show up on your wrist. Furrowing your eyebrows, you ignored the sound of the door opening and footsteps rushing towards you. You ignored hands appearing in your vision and hovering unsure above your hand. 

You only looked up when the hand grabbed your wrist and blocked the two perplexing ruby red hearts. You saw Philza with a look of immense relief on his face. “How’re you feeling?”

“I don’t know.” You looked back at your covered wrist and took it out of Philza’s grasp, staring at the two red hearts again in confusion. “I-I should only have one life. Where’s Arthur? Ender, he’s probably so scared. Did you leave my prosthetic in the cave?” Your rapid fire questioning was stopped by a hand on your shoulder. 

“Slow down, you only just respawned.” You threw your hands up in frustration (well, you tried with your right arm, it only moved to about two thirds of your full range of movement before you felt a slight pain and a stretching sensation), “how the hell do I respawn when I was on my last life?” 

“You aren’t-”

“Yes I am! Fuck man, how do you forget that?! First time: Warden. Second time: explosion! I know I just died for the last time, so how am I still here?!” You glared up at him. It astonished you that he just forgot about the first two times you died. Who forgets their own kids’ deaths? It takes a real monster to forget things like that. 

“(Y/n), you’ve only died once and that was because the infection you got was too severe,” he put a gentle hand on your shoulder and pulled you into a hug. You pushed him away and seethed, “How do you not remember! Ender, did the last two and a half years just escape you? You’re fucking immortal, almost three years is nothing to you!” 

“Two and a half- (y/n). Two and a half years ago you were fourteen and you were barely just learning how to do tricks midair.”

“No, I’m twenty years old! How the fuck do you forget your own kid’s age?” 

“You turned seventeen six months ago, (y/n).” 

You ran a frustrated hand through your hair and laughed sardonically, “I’m not dealing with your bullshit right now. Where’s Arthur?” You stood up with shaky legs and swatted his hands away. “I don’t know an Arthur. Please lay back down, you’re-”

“First you forget my deaths, next my age, and now Arthur?! What the actual fuck is wrong with you? Where is he?” You gritted the last sentence out through clenched teeth.

“Who-”

“Curly red hair, freckles, always smiling, about yay high,” you flailed your hand from side to side rapidly at your mid torso, “your grandson. That ring a bell?”

“No because I don’t have a grandson. Sit down, I think I know what’s happening.”

“No. Not until I see Arthur.” You brushed his shoulder as you walked by him and out of the room. You could hear him following behind you, but you ignored him. After you ripped Arthur’s door open, you paused in the doorway. 

The entire room was decorated with Wilbur’s belongings. Instead of random bags of redstone dust and small contraptions that Arthur was too proud of to throw away, piles of sheet music and the occasional book was strewn about. Instead of the poster of you Arthur had hung up on the wall (you had laughed at it at first, he still geeked out over you even though you were his parent), a picture of the family was there. Despite it being a sweet picture (it was one of the very few ones of the family where everybody was smiling at the artist and not moving around), it shook you to your core. “A-Arthur?” You whispered in a broken voice. What was going on, where was he? 

You faintly felt someone put a hand on your shoulder. You however stood frozen clutching the door handle in your hand until you walked over to the nightstand. It was completely barren except for the glasses case sitting near the lamp. This isn’t right, this isn’t right at all. Arthur’s things should be there, not Wilbur’s. 

“No, no, no, no this isn’t right.” You broke off into mumbling while staring at Arthur’s (or Wilbur’s?) nightstand desperately trying to find the feather hidden somewhere. Once again, you felt a hand on your upper arm. “Everything’s right, (y/n).” You said nothing as you stared at the glasses case on the nightstand. “C’mon, let’s go sit down.” You barely registered him leading you gently back to your room and handing you a glass of water. “(Y/n)?” 

“Why is his stuff just- just gone? Everything was there before I left.”

Philza was silent for a moment, his feathers ruffling and brushing against your arm. “...Sometimes when a person’s been through something traumatic and they’re about to die, they sort of… make up their own reality without knowing that they’re doing it. It’s the brain’s way of coping. 

“This reality could last anywhere from a few days to years for them with the events seeming real, but in actuality only a few minutes have passed and nothing that the person thinks happened actually happened. It’s just the person’s subconscious mind playing out scenarios that they think would happen or wished had happened.”

You felt like you were previously walking on a stable sheet of ice before you were plunged into the icy abyss of unknowing. You felt several emotions coursing through your veins ranging from anxiety and frustration to grief and disbelief. The cup of water in your hands became incredibly blurry before you were pulled into his chest. He wrapped his arms and wings around you tightly and held your face securely against his shoulder. He started rocking you back and forth as you felt the tears silently leave your eyes and your breathing shudder. You felt yourself start to sob when a barrage of thoughts came and the reality of the situation hit you.

None of your inventions actually existed.

L’manberg doesn’t exist. 

Your name was unknown.

The last two and a half years were pointless.

Arthur doesn’t exist. 

Your precious Artie, the little boy that idolized you, begged for you to teach him everything you knew, followed you around like a little duckling, held your feather against his chest as he slept, enthusiastically asked you if you could take him flying, your little fledgling, your pride and joy, your son, didn’t fucking exist. You were never going to see his smile again. You were never going to laugh with him as you took him into the clouds. You were never going to cook breakfast with him again. He was never going to give you magnets again. He was never going to ask you to teach him something or ask you to help him with his own inventions. He was gone and there was nothing you could do to get him back. 

“I- I prom-mised him that I’d never leave him.” You sobbed into his shoulder, clutching onto his shirt. “I fucking promised him and I’m never gonna see him again.”

(A/N): ok so a little explanation, chapters 4-mid 15 didn’t actually happen. It was in the reader’s mind as after they passed out in chapter 3. There was foreshadowing (esp in chapter 4, I consider chapter 4 to be the chapter where the brain is getting used to the illusion it set up (hence the title “what is real”)). It explains why the reader couldn’t remember their own death. The line “You were probably still in the cave bleeding out as your delirious mind turned stone into the comforting walls of your home. You were probably imagining hearing your dad’s voice in a last chance to comfort yourself as you neared your impending doom” was pretty self explanatory. In the last chapter, the souls saying “wake up, we need to get you out of here” and “don’t leave me” were Philza’s voice cutting through (”The voices ranged from... familiar to unfamiliar”)

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@acecarddraws @ravennightingaleandavatempus  @dirtydiavolo  @yeiras-world  @immadatmostthings  @hee-hee-haw  @jackalopedoodles  @m1lkmandan  @vanhakirja  @im-a-depressed-gay  @coolleviauchihadreamerlove  @questioning-sanity  @camisascam  @bongwaterflavoredgatorade  @kakamiissad  @jayistrash4  @lifestylesleep  @speedymaximoff  @sun-shark-tooth  @appetiteofapeoplepleaser  @lestrangenymph  @kinismanditory  @dragons-lurk-here  @rinzyx05  @the-wandering-pan-ace  @angelic-scent  @shinipii  @dont-hug-me-im-a-fander  @izzydimensional  @used-avocado  @wing-non  @lovely-echoo  @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual  @mysteryartisticwriter  @momo-has-a-gun  @misfortunatem00n  @w-0-r-n-n  @v-kouya  @kusuinko  @cheybaee  @dulcedippers  @jaciahbabes  @prlan  @hummingbird-lightningstrike  @pog-sad-muffin  @prickypearpropaganda  @thegeekisheere  @self-righteous-dumbass  @solar-idiot