#it be dickens perfect if it had some more hair…

[c-is-for-circinate]

Kind of want to toss more snippets of things that probably won't become long extended fics up onto tumblr. So: Eddie/Chrissy, with deeply bisexual ADHD disaster child Eddie, because we deserve it. (Also background hints of Steve/Nancy, but rest assured Eddie is 100% projecting and highly incorrect about that dynamic.)

Chrissy lives, through sheer dumb luck -- a tape shoved into a player out of some vague idea in the back of Eddie's mind that he could be smooth, could maybe help a pretty girl who for some godforsaken reason seemed to like him have a good time -- and it's great, it's incredible, it's more luck than any of them should've ever dared hope for--

And Eddie is thrilled, obviously. Terrified out of his mind, pretty sure he should be running for the hills, but. Chrissy Cunningham is alive, and for some bizarre, unfathomable reason, she seems to like him.

It's just...jesus christ, what is he supposed to do with that?

It's not that Eddie doesn't like girls. Girls are pretty, and smell good, and have curves in places he's maybe imagined putting his hands a time or two (thousand), and have generally starred in at least thirty to forty percent of his favorite jerk-off fantasies for the past several years. But the general class of females of approximately his own age in Hawkins, Indiana have heretofore been somewhat disinclined to follow up on Eddie's occasional flirtations, and somehow he doesn't think the other skill set is going to be much help here.

It's just...look. Eddie knows, he knows goddamn well that for ninety-nine point nine percent of guys like him, whose eyes skate over the slope of a gentleman's broad shoulders as readily as the swell of a lady's hips, that the easy road would mean playing straight for sixty-some-odd years, marrying a nice girl who doesn't ask too many questions, and maybe getting the occasional blowjob in a truck stop bathroom from a pretty boy you pretend you don't want half as much as you actually do. Of course he knows that. He's given those blowjobs, a lot more often than he's ever had a nice girl like Chrissy Cunningham look at him twice. Because that's the thing, isn't it, once again the Munson luck striking right at the heart of things. Once again, Eddie isn't like every other guy in Hawkins or Indiana or, fuck, the whole damn world probably. Can't just do things the normal way. Has to do everything opposite, and look where that's gotten him lately.

Truck-stop bathrooms are easy. The grit of them, the feel of cold tile through thin denim, the taste of latex and the smell of musk and sweat and come, a thick-fingered hand in his hair and the press of tight muscle under his fingertips, the rush of knowing that even on his knees, he's the one with the power here -- it's good. It's so good, the back rooms of that bar in Indy where one flash of his fake ID gets him an all-access pass to all the sex a boy could want, no strings attached. Slipping into that space is almost as easy, as natural, as slipping into the DM's seat at Hellfire. He doesn't even have to change his look, just makes sure the bandana is tucked into the correct pocket and they come to him, ready to let Eddie take the reins and drag them into something just painful enough to be really satisfying when they make it through to the end.

That's the thing about being a freak. That's the thing, that's always the thing, the backwards mixed-up thing in Eddie's brain that had him reading Tolkien before he turned nine but can't get through one Charles Dickens novel without wanting to scrape himself out of his own skin. He can calculate probabilities and percentage tables for a D&D game in his sleep but can't sit still through a single math class. It took less than a week to get note-perfect on the entire Master of Puppets guitar solo and six years might not be enough to graduate high school.

So yeah, Eddie knows how to be a freak and a faggot, can take a grown man to pieces with his hands and his voice and his dick if he just clicks into that zone where he has all the power to shape the world the way he wants it. That doesn't mean he has any goddamn idea what to do when Chrissy Cunningham smiles at him like that and he trips over his own feet.

He should be looking at Harrington. Steve goddamn Harrington is striding around like that, absolutely shirtless, streaked in dirt and his own blood like some goddamn primal warrior come to life. That would be safe. Safer. Something. Pretty boy in just the right amount of pain, Eddie should be enjoying the eye candy, but he can't because: 1) they're literally in hell and monsters could come after them at any time, 2) Nancy Wheeler apparently has a bedroom full of actual guns and is still in love with her ex-boyfriend, so Eddie's pretty sure he'd better keep his eyes to himself if he wants to keep them at all, and 3) far more importantly than all of that, Chrissy is scared enough to be holding his hand and he's terrified that his palms might be sweating. She's so pretty. He wants her to actually like him so, so badly. This is an absolute nightmare.

"You doing okay?" he asks Chrissy quietly, letting her lean on his arm to help her over some rough terrain when they have to take a detour around a knot of vines. She clutches at his sleeve and smiles timidly, putting on a brave face that makes Eddie want to do something insane like find a suit of shining armor just so he can bow to her in it.

"We're going to be fine," she says. "We just have to get to Nancy's house and it'll all be okay. Right?"

"Gonna let Wheeler make you a a total badass with a gun?" Eddie asks, and then mentally kicks himself. Who flirts with a girl by calling her a total badass? How do smooth guys flirt with girls if they stick around past the initial five minutes of inviting them to come see your band, which literally no girl has ever actually said yes to before? Eddie isn't even sure he has a band any more, if Chrissy's ex-boyfriend has anything to say about it, which means he's kind of out of ideas.

Eddie has one blinding, insane moment of wondering what would Jason Carver do here? before he almost chokes on his own tongue. Fuck. He really can't do this.

"Maybe," Chrissy says, a little shy, and slides her hand down his arm to slip her palm into his again. "Do you think I could?"

There's a smudge of dirt on her perfect nose. Eddie wants to lick it off. Oh god he's a freak. You can't lick cheerleaders. Fuck, Eddie doesn't even know how to go down on a girl. Fuck, why did he think about that. It doesn't matter! He's never going to get the chance! Chrissy is never going to want him to touch her like that anyway!

"I think if the last few days have proven anything, it's that literally anything is possible," Eddie says, and then realizes he just implied that Chrissy being a badass is even more unlikely than alternate dimensions, which is probably even worse than calling her one in the first place, and holy shit, how is it even possible to be this awful at this? Why is she still standing here with him? "I mean, I could even stop being a coward who apparently runs away from absolutely everything, which I've discovered I am now, that's how weird things are, so yeah, compared to that, Chrissy, I think you could absolutely be a badass if you wanted to be."

"I don't think you're a coward," Chrissy says, and she's stepping closer, why is she stepping closer, tucking their arms together. "I mean, I couldn't even run away. He would've gotten me right there, if you hadn't..."

"Luckily I think Harrington and Wheeler are big enough heroes for all of us." Eddie catches sight of them up ahead, Wheeler on point like a hunting hound leading the way, Harrington keeping watch on all sides with that flashlight ready to spring into action at any minute. It should probably be Harrington back here with Chrissy, if he and Wheeler weren't so obviously the perfect battle couple together. Hell, even Buckley, who's up front with Nancy right now and who Eddie knows he clocked checking out Chrissy's legs earlier. She's awkward, yeah, but on her it'd be endearing, and maybe Chrissy deserves better than cowardly asshole boys for a while anyway.

She definitely deserves better than Eddie. She tugs him out of the way of a vine half a second before he trips over it in the dark, like a klutz and a dumbass, and Eddie curses himself for a failure.

[invisibleraven]

Phantom Carols

For the @jatp-adventevent prompt: Who has the worst Christmas sweater?

Day Six: Ugly Sweater Party <-AO3!

Alex hummed as he looked through the mail, stopping at one ornate envelope. “Willie? Are you expecting mail from your dad?” Caleb was notorious for his over the top stationary, so it seemed a fitting question to ask.

Willie bounced into the kitchen, snatching up the envelope and holding it away from him as he opened it. Which, to be fair, was only because one year for his Pride party, Caleb has stuffed the envelope with glitter. Alex swore they were still cleaning it up to this day, so they had learned caution when opening mail from him. Thankfully this one seemed to contain any unfortunate surprises. “Oh, he’s having a holiday party.”

“What’s the theme this year?” Alex asked with a sigh. Willie shot him a confused look. “Babe, there’s always a theme. Last year we had to dress up as our favourite character from a Christmas movie of our choosing. The year before was all Dickens, the one before that was Twisted Nativity. So I am terrified to know what he came up with this year.”

Willie glanced at the paper in his hands and then his face screwed up before looking up at Alex. “It says to wear your ugliest holiday sweater.”

“Are you sure it’s from Caleb then? Because I don’t think he even associates with the word ugly,” Alex snarked.

“Yup, his signature is on the bottom,” Willie replied, holding out the invitation for Alex to see. “It says, and I quote, ‘the more garish or over the top the better’, which does sound a little like him.”

“Just a bit too much,” surmised Alex. “But I don’t think I have any holiday sweaters. Reggie might, but nothing he owns would fit either of us.”

“I might have a few poked away somewhere,” Willie mused. “Provided the moths haven’t eaten them yet.”

“Well, I mean, distressed clothing is in this year…”

Willie rolled his eyes at Alex and went off in search of his holiday wear collection, finally emerging from the office, his hair a little tangled, his clothes a bit askew, carrying a dusty box and a megawatt smile. “Found ’em!”

They dug through the box, finding treasures untold. Willie snatched up a bright red sweater with a tree on the front that proclaimed ‘Let’s Get Lit!’ and all the lights on the tree actually worked.

Alex rejected the muscle Santa sweater, the truly sacrilegious one with what he was sure was a Buddy Christ from Dogma on it, and the one with the reindeer threesome on it. Finally he pulled out one, and it was perfect, and he beamed when he held it up to Willie.

“Oh… I actually bought that to give you a few years ago,” Willie admitted with a blush. “But I thought you might get offended, so I stashed it.”

“No way, this is amazing! I’m gonna wear it every year!” Alex proclaimed, tossing off his hoodie and pulling the sweater down onto him, fluffing his hair back into place as he did a little spin.

“Gorgeous as always hot dog,” Willie commented. “Now, let’s get these dry cleaned before the party and hope that Caleb’s sweater is the ugliest one of all because I don't wanna be whoever it is that shows him up.”

The night of the party, Alex donned his festive sweater, the one declaring that ‘40% of us get the gift of increased anxiety’ and got Willie. The club was hopping by the time they arrived, and got some punch as they mingled. Ugly sweaters were everywhere, and the smiles seemed a lot more genuine than they were during the Dickens year. Alex didn’t blame them there, he was way comfier in his nicer slacks and this sweater than in the whole Jacob Marley get up. He still had nightmares about getting in and out of the stupid stockings he wore, and the less said about the buckled shoes, the better.

Soon the lights were dimming, meaning it was time for Caleb’s grand entrance, so they all took their seats, looking towards the stage.

The trapdoor opened, and a star emerged, clutched in Caleb’s hands, then he popped right up, and everyone laughed and clapped. Caleb’s sweater was a bright festive green colour, but it was wrapped in tinsel and had ornaments hanging from it, so that with his arms positioned as they were, he looked like a Christmas tree.

Only he tossed the star at the band, and grinned at his party guests. “Ho ho ho everyone! Now the party can actually begin, as my mere presents is a gift to you all!”

Willie groaned and shook his head. Caleb might only be his dad through adoption, but the man had embraced dad jokes like no tomorrow from the second Willie entered his care. Even now, with Willie long out of the house, with a husband and a house, Caleb still enjoyed adding as many puns to his speeches as he could, just to embarrass his poor son.

Willie didn’t even want to think about the grandpa jokes the man would come up with once he and Alex started having kids. But he was fairly certain that kid would have the most fabulous parties this side of California, there was no doubt about that.

But even Willie has to laugh when on Isla’s first Christmas with them, Caleb shows up with matching ugly sweaters for all of them. The picture becomes a yearly tradition as the sweaters grow more and more tacky, but Isla loves them, Caleb is delighted by it, and well, Alex and Willie love their family, so the tradition stays.

Even if Alex loves that first sweater that Willie gave him most of all.

[josjournal]

Jolabokaflod (Full Moon Ficlet #516 - Eve)

Written for @fullmoonficlet

Stiles stood in front of the bookstore, looking through the window at the display. He’d heard of Jolabokaflod before but didn’t know much about it. The window had caught his eye as he’d searched through the shopping district for the perfect gift for Derek. This was their first Christmas as a couple, and he wanted to start some traditions with him, knowing how much things like that meant to Derek.

They both liked to read, loved it even, so the thought of celebrating Jolabokaflod together every year seemed like an excellent idea. Nodding to himself and taking a deep breath, he entered the shop. The woman behind the counter waved without missing a beat in her conversation with a young boy about the picture book in his hands.

Stiles headed to the classics, knowing how much Derek enjoyed them. He stopped when a display of Christmas books caught his eye. Maybe that would be an excellent addition to the tradition. His eyes traced the titles, stopping on a beautiful copy of Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol. 

“Perfect,” he said, picking up the book. Now, he would just have to find one for him. Frowning, he looked at them all, beginning to feel overwhelmed.

“Can I help you find something?” Stiles turned around to find the woman who’d greeted him. “I’m Rose. Welcome to Cover to Cover.”

“Hi, Rose. I’m Stiles,” he said, smiling. “I noticed your display about Jolabokaflod, and I thought it’d be a great tradition to start with my boyfriend, but I only know it happens on Christmas Eve.”

“That’s right,” Rose said, smiling. “It started during World War II when paper was one of the few things not rationed, so books became even more popular as gifts. Iceland is known for being a land of bookaholics, so this fit right in for them.”

“That’s a great idea. My mom used to love giving books as gifts, too,” Stiles said, picking up the copy of A Christmas Carol. “My boyfriend will love this. He loves classics.”

“What about you? If you’re just starting the tradition, will he know to get you a book?” she asked.

“No, but I’m not sure what to get for myself. How do Icelanders do this every year?” Stiles asked, running a hand through his hair.

“There’s a catalog that gets sent out every year,” Rose supplied. “Since we don’t have that option, what kind of books do you like to read?”

“I like to read everything.”

“Yeah, you’re helpful,” Rose teased. “What do you do for a living?” She studied him. “Wait, you’re a deputy, aren’t you?” Stiles nodded. “I thought I recognized you. Do you like mysteries?”

“Yeah, actually,” he said. “I doubt there are very many mysteries set at Chri-” He cut off when she picked up a book with a black cover. He took it and studied the cover. “The Christmas Murder Game.” He flipped it over and read the synopsis. “I think this is perfect.”

“Excellent! Is there anything else? Bookmarks?” Stiles nodded and followed her through the store, chatting while he let her sell him way more stuff than he probably needed.

On Christmas Eve, after the Pack had headed home to be with their respective families and the Sheriff had headed to work, Stiles went upstairs to grab the bag from Cover to Cover. He returned downstairs and found Derek with an identical bag and burst out laughing. 

“Did you meet Rose, too?” he asked, and Derek nodded, laughing. “Hopefully, we didn’t get the same books.”

Derek reached inside and pulled out a copy of A Christmas Story by Jean Shepherd. Stiles handed over the wrapped book he’d gotten him, relieved. He took a wrapped book from Derek while pulling out his book. Settling onto the couch, they unwrapped their books. Stiles had his open while Derek had only run a finger under one edge.

He gaped at the beautiful cover of Letters from Father Christmas by J.R.R. Tolkien. “This is amazing!” he said, looking up to see Derek smiling down at his book, fingers tracing reverently over the title as a tear ran down his cheek. “Are you alright?” Stiles asked, panicked.

“My mom used to read this book to us every year. One chapter a night leading up to Christmas,” Derek said. “It’s one of my favorite memories of her.” He looked up at Stiles. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” Stiles said. “Next year, we can read it to the Pack,” he suggested, and Derek nodded.

“Maybe we could get them to join in on Jolabokaflod.” Derek commented, looking hopeful, and Stiles decided to start working on book lists for each member of the pack right away. “I’ll make some cocoa, and we can start reading.”

“Another new tradition,” Stiles said, smiling when Derek nodded. His eyes still held tears, but he radiated happiness as he left the room. 

Stiles watched him go, knowing that the book lists would hold off until they finished reading. Nothing would stand in the way of his and Derek’s first celebration of Jolabokaflod.

Cross-posted to AO3

[mediaevalmusereads]

Demon Copperhead. By Barbara Kingsolver. Harper, 2022.

Rating: 4/5 stars

Genre: literary fiction

Series: N/A

Summary: Set in the mountains of southern Appalachia, this is the story of a boy born to a teenaged single mother in a single-wide trailer, with no assets beyond his dead father's good looks and copper-colored hair, a caustic wit, and a fierce talent for survival. In a plot that never pauses for breath, relayed in his own unsparing voice, he braves the modern perils of foster care, child labor, derelict schools, athletic success, addiction, disastrous loves, and crushing losses. Through all of it, he reckons with his own invisibility in a popular culture where even the superheroes have abandoned rural people in favor of cities.

Many generations ago, Charles Dickens wrote David Copperfield from his experience as a survivor of institutional poverty and its damages to children in his society. Those problems have yet to be solved in ours. Dickens is not a prerequisite for readers of this novel, but he provided its inspiration. In transposing a Victorian epic novel to the contemporary American South, Barbara Kingsolver enlists Dickens' anger and compassion, and above all, his faith in the transformative powers of a good story. Demon Copperhead speaks for a new generation of lost boys, and all those born into beautiful, cursed places they can't imagine leaving behind.

***Full review below.***

CONTENT WARNINGS: drug use/overdose/recovery, abusive relationships, homophobia, miscarriage, sexual content

OVERVIEW: I first heard about this novel while watching a "best books read in 2023" wrap up on YouTube. I was initially hesitant to pick it up because I'm not the biggest Kingsolver fan, but a retelling of David Copperfield was too enticing to pass up. Overall, I have mixed feelings about this book, but the premise is good enough that I lean more towards positive. I wish Kingsolver had done a little more with her material and some of the more emotional moments didn't quite hit as hard as I was hoping, but the moments that did land were very good and I think adapting David Copperfield for a new generation of readers was a good impulse.

WRITING: Kingsolver writes with this easy-going first-person style that is meant to mimic something conversational or informal. This means that there are a few colliquialisms as well as sentence fragments, etc. that give the impression of a younger person narrating the story. Luckily, the novel isn't written in dialect, so it's easy for more people to read.

Personally, I felt that this style worked in some instances and didn't do as well in others. In the places it did work, I appreciated the feeling of hearing an experience described in the character's voice; Demon has a distinctive way of talking, so I can appreciate the work put into sustaining that voice for almost 550 pages.

The places it didn't work, in my opinion, were moments of emotional weight. Because Demon is somewhat reluctant to let his emotions show, I got the sense that some things were being told in a detached way (where I would have expected a more emotional impact). In one sense, this is keeping with Demon's character, but also, I kind of wished I got to experience things with Demon rather than being told about them.

PLOT: This book is a retelling of Charles Dickens's David Copperfield, set in rural Virginia during the 1990s and early 2000s. It tells the life story of a young boy names Demon Copperhead from childhood until young adulthood, exploring issues such as economic hardship, drugs, the dysfunctional foster care system, and generational trauma.

As a concept, I have to applaud Kingsolver because I think she did a brilliant job of bringing Dickens's story to life for a new audience. She absolutely picked up on the things Dickens was interested in (namely poverty) and chose a perfect setting for her retelling, not looking for shock value but to explore how the economic situation in rural America damages children in similar ways that poverty damaged Victorian children. The strongest parts of the book, in my opinion, were when these themes came to the forefront. Some of my favorite passages were direct comments about how rural places were robbed then left for dead by coal companies, how lack of opportunity leads to poverty, how drug use arises, and so forth.

I also appreciated that Kingsolver mixed some good in with the bad to avoid the story coming across as "poverty porn." Demon has plenty of people in his life who care about him and who want to help, so there are plenty of bright spots in what would otherwise be a dreary tale. I think these bright spots go a long way, showing how people can still fall victim to things like drugs and violence, even with a support system.

That being said, I still think Kingsolver could have gone harder and made some of the more emotional moments pack a bigger punch. I'm not advocating for melodrama or tragedy; rather, I wish we hadn't been held at arm's length via Demon's narration all the time.

CHARACTERS: Since there are a number of characters in this book, I'll speak about Demon in some detail and then speak of others in more general terms.

Demon, our narrator and protagonist, is easy to sympathize with and fairly compelling as a protagonist because you get the sense that he's a product of his surroundings. He has a lot of good qualities, like stepping up to take care of people he cares about, and I really got the sense that he was a good kid who got dealt a bad hand. The narrative doesn't completely excuse him, however, and there were plenty of times where I wanted to shake some sense into him. But that made his characterization feel more multi-dimensional.

Supporting characters were also quite varied but all felt like they belonged in the story. I loved characters that wanted the best for Demon, and inreally felt like they were doing the best they could with what they had. I also felt sympathy for characters that were utter disasters, hindering Demon in ways that didn't feel necessarily malicious, just part of the poverty and drug-filled ecosystem.

One thing I do wish Kingsolver had done better was carrying supporting character arcs forward. Personally, it felt like Kingsolver would drop characters as soon as they were no longer central to Demon's life, which is a shame because a number of them keep showing up until the end of the book. For example, Demon and Maggot (his neighbor who is like a brother) are supposedly really close, but after a certain point, it felt like Maggot was just an afterthought. I wish Kingsolver had developed some secondary characters as parallel arcs to Demon, rather than letting some of them fade but never quite disappear.

TL;DR: Demon Copperhead is a brilliant retelling of David Copperfield, exploring the effects of institutional poverty on children in rural America. While I do wish Kingsolver had done some things differently, I think this book accomplishes what it set out to do, and it has enough hard-hitting moments that make the story insightful and memorable.

[chloefashionthroughtime]

Unusual facts - Victorian era:

Christmas cards:

Christmas cards date back to the Victorian era, when a man named Sir Henry Cole commissioned the first 1,000 copies in 1843, inspired by Charles Dickens' just released A Christmas Carol. However, the first Christmas cards were expensive to produce because each one had to be individually designed by a professional colourist using a technique known as lithography. Improvements in printing technology and the postal system would not allow for mass production and distribution until the 1870s. In terms of art, it would take decades for the Victorians to perfect the 'Christmas card' look we know today. While many Victorian-era Christmas cards contained commonplace motifs such as animals and landscapes, there was also a great desire for gloomy and disturbing images. Insects and lobsters were very popular, but there were also pieces representing legendary monsters and ghostly children. According to historians, some of these designs represented the harsh reality of living during the Victorian era, since many poor children did died during the Christmas season.

-This video gives more of an idea of what the Christmas cards looked like with the unusual creepy look which is unusual for today's views for Christmas cards.

Human hair jewellery:

You would think arsenic and lead were the strangest components in a normal Victorian house, but you'd be incorrect. There was also human hair, which was frequently collected from a departed loved one and fashioned into jewellery such as wreaths, necklaces, bracelets, and anything else that can be made with hair.It was an entire art form of the time, and the more elaborate pieces required a great deal of effort and time to create. If it enhanced the appearance, it wasn't unusual to incorporate hair from more than one departed member, or even a family pet. The tradition died out at the turn of the century, as more and more people realised how strange it was. However, museums dedicated to the preservation of the craft can still be found.

-The mourning jewellery made out of hair made in the victorian era

Referencing:

HIMANSHU SHARMA. (2022). 10 Unusual Trends From The Victorian Era. [Online]. toptez. Last Updated: 6 December 2022. Available at: https://www.toptenz.net/10-unusual-trends-from-the-victorian-era.php [Accessed 9 December 2022].

[voltagesmutter]

The Second Cumming.

Fandom: Obey Me Pairing: Lucifer x MC x Diavolo, Satan x MC x Belphegor, Leviathan x MC x Simeon, Amso x MC, Asmo x MC x Solomon, Mammon x MC x Beelzebub. (Female MC). Warnings: Threesome’s, Female heat, Mild Dubcon, Voyeurism, Mild Exhibitionism, Toy use, Oral, vaginal, anal penetration. Squirting, Double Penetration, mild Yaoi, Polyamorous relationship. Notes: The Dickening Part 2. The biggest thank you to @theshove​ for having so much faith with me for this piece. Not only for your generous donation but also for beta-ing the whole piece within a day! And also to @theinariakuma​ for all your love and support. Also thank you to all those who donated for early release as well and all your wonderful feedback. 💛 Tagging: @starry-starry-night24​, @0-miles-away​, @pixiestick0924, @iloveobeyme, @ghoulgirlradio, @raymiazaki. 

“Just five more minutes,” she whined, pulling the red bed covers over her head.

“You said this five minutes ago, and five before that, and five before that,” a deep voice answered above the sound of metal hooks clinking as curtains were thrown open, letting light flood into the room.

“But Lucifer!” She whined once more in protest, squeezing her eyes shut, trying her best to attempt to block out the beams of light shining through the covers.

“No buts,” Lucifer huffed, attaching his cloak to his shirt in the golden framed mirror beside the bed. “You promised Solomon you would-“ The end of his sentence was cut off by the bedroom door being slammed wide open. 

“Lucifer! Beel ate my lizard custard slice!” Mammon came storming in, huffing with rage and disturbing the peace.

“Oh lord Diavolo give me strength,” Lucifer sighed as Beel came bounding in after him. 

“He took my money to gamble at that tournament! He owes me more than a lizard slice!” The ginger haired brother took a few paces into the room. 

“Lucifer, there’s no food! That big oaf must have eaten everything again in the night!” Satan tutted, walking straight into the back of someone. Not realising that the broad back he’d just walked into belonged to Beel, the big oaf he was talking about. 

“Hey I didn’t touch a thing! And who are you calling oaf, scrawny bookworm!” Beel towered over Satan as he turned around, prodding a finger into his chest. 

“Boys, don’t start!” Lucifer growled as both Satan and Beel transformed into their demon forms, Satan glaring up at Beel. 

“My grimm’s on Beel,” Mammon laughed, sitting down on Lucifer's bed as a squeal rang out.

“Mammon you idiot!” The young girl threw the covers off her head, making Mammon freeze in mid air after realising he had sat on her. 

“Shit-I- I’m sorry, I didn’t see ya! Shouldn’t be sneaking up on the Great Mammon like that,” Mammon’s facing blushed red as he quickly stood up. 

“Hey, what’s all the noise?” Belphegor and Levi ran from their rooms into Lucifer's. Lucifer sighed and covered his face with one hand. Just once he wanted a quiet and peaceful morning without the shenanigans of his younger siblings. 

“Tough guy here thinks he can chat shit as always,” Beel hissed, staring down Satan, whose tail flickered feistily into the air. 

“Oh, morning boys!” Asmo chirped as he walked past, sporting only a small thong and a half done up silk robe. “Has anyone seen sweetie, I need her opinion and she’s not in her room.” He pouted softly before his eyes fell onto the girl in Lucifer's bed. “Ah there you are! Now come on you,” he cooed, pushing past his brothers with little regard for their problems and tugging her hand.

“Wait- Asmo! I’m not dressed!” She squealed, attempting to clutch the sheets to her naked body but, as Asmo pulled her, the sheets fell and she stumbled forward off the bed. Her nightie lay bunched on the floor from her previous night with Lucifer and all eyes fell on her. The arguments and squabbles from moments ago became lost in translation as seven sets of eyes travelled over her, all of their pacts visible in different locations, with Satan’s and Beel’s radiating due to them being in demon form and giving a glow to her skin. 

Ever since helping them with their heats, she and the brothers had come to love each other, creating a relationship between all of them and the human. Each getting private and shared alone time with her, all of them giving her their heart and hers to them. 

“You know, I’m not hungry for food anymore,” Satan smirked as he turned his body to face her, taking a few steps forward only to be held back by Beel.

“Fat chance. I’m the one for gluttony, I need to eat more importantly,”.

“Beel move, you're blocking the view.” Levi entered and pushed Beel out of the way, sending the biggest of the brothers flying into Mammon.

“Hey! Watch it! These treads were expensive!” Mammon growled as Beel stepped on his white shoes. 

“Right! Out! All of you out!” Lucifer finally snapped, bending down and handing the girl her clothes. “School is in an hour. I want all of you ready to go by then I have an important meeting with Diavolo and, as we are all aware, our little dove is meeting with Solomon.” 

“I- um,” The girl blushed as she threw on her clothes, all of the brothers sending her a confused expression. “I’m helping Solomon with a birth-control potion.” The pill she was currently taking was in short supply and since condoms broke left, right and centre with the brothers - the dick game was too strong - this seemed their only viable option. 

-

“So this,” Solomon was holding up a vial in his hand, the gold shimmers twisting in the light of the open window, “is just a tester. Its effects will last a few days, just to trial how it gets on.” In one hand was a gold vial with shimmers, in the other a gold vial with dark blue swirls. “I’ve perfected the ingredients; it works similar to human contraception, just in liquid form. Everything regulates the same. To test its success you should bleed in a week's time. If all is in order I can produce a bigger batch which will last you roughly twenty one days. if you wish to not continue with periods then you can take another one straight after.” 

“And what is this one?” She pointed to the potion with deep blue hues in his other hand. She’d grown close to Solomon over her time here, becoming close friends with the slightly perverted sorcerer. 

“The same; both are made from the same batch, only this contains fairy dust which enhances the aphrodisiac hormones.” A ‘birth-control viagra for women’ as he had once put it. Pumped full of ovulation hormones to increase sex drive without fear of risk. 

“Okay, so do I just take it now or…?” she asked as she took the potion from his hand. It was the same potion she’d used during the brothers’ heat, only this was longer lasting with regard to time and helped to regulate the hormones inside her body. 

“Yes, take it all. You won’t feel any different,” he assured with a slightly sweet smile, a smile he only kept for her. Without thinking she knocked the golden liquid back, humming at the sweet taste of honey, as silk liquid dripped down the back of her throat. 

“You are an angel!” She smiled sweetly, pressing a kiss to his cheek and the vial back in his hand. “I can’t stay for much longer; I have a meeting with Diavolo and Lucifer I must attend. Are you sure there is nothing I can do to thank you for your help?”. 

The sorcerer sighed and rolled his eyes, she always did this. Offering a thank you for his assistance. “As I’ve told you before, the thank you is you letting me test out the potions on you.” ‘A real-life guinea pig’, he’d once teased her with. 

“Well, I must dash. I’ll see you soon, okay?” She waved as she picked up her satchel before leaving purgatory hall and headed back to R.A.D. She’d never understood the twisted rumours she had heard about Solomon. He was always so sweet and pleasant to her. Although he could be mocking and demeaning at times, his words seemed more of a false threat than anything more. But his actions towards her were always soft and gentle.

As she walked back with a little skip in her step, Solomon turned back to his book upon the table. It was open to the page where the instructions for making his potions lay. He’d skimmed over the ingredients as he made it, as he had to make some minor adjustments. Golden Hell Fire Newt Syrup was required, a vital ingredient, but notorious for being an aphrodisiac for demons if they came into contact with it. Even the residue from the bottle on her lips would set off intense lust inside a demon if she was to kiss them - and Solomon knew this was a contraception potion. She would most definitely be doing more than just kissing her demon lovers. He had to add in a set of ingredients to hold back the effects on demons so that this would only have effect on a human system. He didn’t dare risk sending the brothers into an accidental heat; he had heard from her (and Asmo) the extent of what had happened during their heat only a few weeks ago and couldn’t bear the thought of putting the poor girl through it again after she’d had such a short time to recover. 

Only he didn’t notice an error in his work until it was too late...

“Once the liquid has cooled, add a few drops of blue fairy dust - check. To neutralize the effects of the Golden Hell Fire Newt Syrup… oh,” Solomon stopped as he read out the remainder of the listing ingredients. “Well then… doesn’t this make for an interesting turn of events.” A dark smile grimacing over his face. 

-

“Darling.” Lucifer smiled to see her walk into Diavolos' office, her uniform in perfect condition and hair without a single strand out of place. He beamed with pride at how beautifully she represented the school. 

“Hi, sorry I’m late.” She smiled back with a faint blush as Lucifer pressed a kiss to her cheek. She brushed a piece of hair behind her ear as she sat beside Lucifer on the opposite side of Diavolos' desk. Dia felt the corners of his mouth twitch upwards, seeing the pair so smitten with each other, the glancing looks of admiration shared between them. He was more than glad to see his old friend so happy, even if it wasn’t with him… But that part of their relationship had ended many centuries ago out of fear of the council; Lucifer had refused to put Dia’s claim to the throne at jeopardy. Diavolo had never found a lover since. There had been the occasional one night stand before but nothing more serious than that. The council would be infuriated to find out about his past with Lucifer and his nightly activities with others. He’d thought Lucifer would never find another either, with the years he had spent alone and unloved. But then a ray of hope came into his life with the young girl opening up her heart to him and his brothers. Whilst Diavolo watched from the side lines, longing to be a part of it all as he, too, found himself purely intoxicated with the young female and wanted nothing more to have a stake of claim to her heart.

“____, it’s a pleasure as always,” Dia greeted her with a nod. “To continue from where we were…”

Diavolo carried on their conversation, about how well the exchange program was going and how she was receiving some of the best grades to be seen from pupils. All was going well, until she felt it.

At first it was just the normal burn. She knew sometimes it happened, a faint ovulation feeling. She didn't mind. But her eyes kept drifting over the two demons. She found her mouth going dry as she admired Diavolo, his strong arms... his general size. He and Beel were the largest men she knew. She wondered if-- Nope. She had to stop that right there. "A-ah Lucifer. I think we need to go." Her voice was meek, arousal getting worse the longer she was in the room with two extremely attractive demons. However, golden eyes were locked on her, and she was squirming. 

"My dear, the meeting isn't over. We'll go once it is over."

“Lucifer... we really need to go.” Heat was rising amongst her cheeks, her fingers grasping the pleated edge of her uniform skirt. Every nerve in her body flooded, pulsing alive with arousal and a pool of liquid flushed between her thighs. The more she looked between the demons, one her superior, the other one of her pacted seven lovers. “Please.” 

“My dove,“ Lucifer had started, a little huff of annoyance which peaked into curiosity at her soft whimper at him placing his hand on her thigh. His words pulled her away from her stare at Diavolo, crimson eyes meeting her lustful gaze. 

“Lucifer-“ She was unable to stop her thighs parting slightly at the contact of his palm upon her thigh. The scent of her arousal grew thick in the air, hitting Lucifer instantly, him now realising the need of her pleas. And just as he was about to offer his hand to leave, a low growl came from the other side of the desk. Diavolo was not about to let this opportunity pass him by.

The look from Diavolo made her legs spread wider, her cheeks flushed red as she let out a short gasp. Her fingers reached to her side as she grasped the edge of her chair, both of the demon's eyes focusing on the rise of her skirt up her bare thigh and the straining of her nipples against the thin material of her bra and shirt. She looked desperate, felt desperate and just ached to be filled. A small ‘please’ mustered, not directly speaking to Lucifer but to both of them.

-

“I can’t wait until we get home.” As she began unbuttoning her shirt, the white of her bra peeked through, showing the fullness of her breasts. Any sense of shame had left her body, the only thing on her mind right now was to be ruthlessly taken and to quench this burning desire between her thighs. Lucifer had objected at first, but with how strong her scent was, he knew it would be a risk to get her home as any demon within a few meters radius would be able to catch her scent. A scent that was meant only for him and his brothers. 

“You can have my office…” Diavolo had gestured, feeling sorry for the poor girl, having to watch her become undone so quickly. But as he walked past to offer them some space, her arm quickly caught his and a small doting look from her with the word, ‘Stay’ pushed him over the edge. 

-

“Ngh- Dia!”.

A low chuckle came from the prince as he shifted slightly, tongue moving from her dripping clit to tease where her and Lucifer met. Lucifer was just as sensitive as he remembered. Whilst his mouth moved to capture his balls, Lucifer let out a deep hiss as his fingers gripped tightly onto the girls waist, Diavolos fingers continuing to tease their sticky meeting and her clit for the additional stimulation. The additional stimulation she had begged for.

Diavolo lay on his desk, his head close to hanging off the side whilst she hovered above him on all fours, his cock buried deep inside her mouth - well what she could take anyway - whilst her hand worked the rest of him. Lucifer stood behind her, impaling her onto his cock as he took her deep and fast, giving her exactly what she needed right now. Both Dia and Lucifer working together to bring her to climax after climax, each one melting into the next. Diavolo having to hold himself back a little every now and then, wanting nothing more than to bury himself in both of them and leave them in a heaving pool of his mess. But now wasn’t the time for that.

“Ah… ah! Diavolo!” she whimpered, her voice an octave higher than normal as one hand dug her nails into his thigh. The feeling of Lucifer fucking her with the touches of Diavolo on her clit and folds was too much, sending her barrelling into another high. 

“Good girl,” Diavolo cooed, pulling his mouth from Lucifer’s balls to lap up the wetness that had drenched his cock each time he pulled out. “I believe it’s your turn now,”. Champagne orbs glistened but were missed by Lucifer as he clenched his eyes shut and let his jaw tense as the teasing actions of Diavolo. 

“N-not yet Dia- focus on her first,” he grunted, snapping his hips quickly against hers as Diavolo’s mouth was once again on him, sucking in a motion that made the heat pool like a volcano ready to erupt at any given second. He needed Diavolo to stop now or it would be over and she was clearly far from being spent from the way she glanced over her shoulder and begged for more with the little words she could muster.

With a grunt Diavolo pulled himself away, latching his mouth onto her clit and feeling smug at the way she cried out. Her back arched as she clawed at his thighs, almost drawing blood, the weight of her breasts pushing down against his lower stomach was an added sensation in itself. The push and pull of her body rubbed her nipples against his skin, sending vibrations of her moans around Diavolos cock and across his body. 

The wet sounds of slapping skin and Diavolos tongue against her rang through the office, Lucifer having put on an enchantment to block any sound leaving the room so they could attend to her needs without fear, Diavolo in amazement to see how sensitive she was to his touch, how good her essence tasted and just how mind blowing she felt with her lips wrapped around his cock. But, like Lucifer had said, this was about her pleasure and Diavolo didn’t want to blow his load until she was a whimpering mess.

-

“C-close!” High gasps growing louder with each breath, only a few thrusts after her previous orgasm,her walls beginning to tighten once more. Her arms wrapped tightly around Lucifer for support, his hands holding her waist tightly to guide her movements. Lucifer rested on Diavolos desk, her straddling as him as she rocked in his lap with the help of his movement whilst Diavolo pressed against her back, his lips focusing on her neck whilst his hands fondled her breasts. Tweaking her nipples in his index and thumbs, grinding against her behind whilst his cock slid between her thighs. The movement of her rocking, the clench of her thighs and the fleeting contact with Lucifer's cock was enough to keep him on the edge. 

“That’s it princess,” Diavolo whispered softly into her ear, catching her lobe and giving it a gentle tug, his soft words touching her heart. With the little strength she had left, she turned her head, pulling an arm free from Lucifer to grasp the light-red hair and pull his face closer to hers. Her cheeks were flushed red, eyes lost in a galaxy haze, a goddess of lust was all Diavolo could think when he saw her. It was their first kiss, and far from their last, but the softness of it as they melted into each other made her clench tightly over Lucifer. The strong feeling of intimacy and love she shared with the brothers was portrayed with Diavolo as their lips continued to meet. 

And as her climax hit her, she turned back to Lucifer, letting his lips glide over hers as they had done some many times, soft whimpers escaping their kiss, her body convulsing as it curled from the sheer force of her release before slumping against Lucifer’s chest, her thirst quenched and her body exhausted. 

Her raven haired lover pressed a kiss to her temple, pushing her hair which was now stuck to her forehead out of the way and off her face. Diavolo’s hand wrapped around Lucifer’s on her waist, continuing the rocking motion as they both chased their release, Lucifer buried deep inside her and Diavolo snuggly between her thighs. 

“Dia…” Lucifer thrusted up slightly at the feeling of his length pressing against his own each time he pulled out. Crimson eyes met golden over her shoulder as she lay panting against his chest, fingers curling over each other’s and before they knew it both leaned across to exchange a kiss.

A sloppy kiss, tongue and teeth meeting in a passionate exchange. A kiss that hadn’t happened for decades but had never lost its rhythm. A kiss that spoke a thousand words that could never be said out loud. It had been the end of both of them, lips sparking and igniting the fires within. Lucifer spilled deep inside her as Diavolo came upon the top of her thighs, finally marking her skin with his release.

The room fell silent apart from the sound of ragged breaths, the two men pressing their foreheads against her shoulder and back, holding her until her racing heart had finally calmed down.

-

Diavolo had seen them off, Lucifer carrying her to his car before whisking them home after a fleeting exchange of kisses from Diavolo to them both in the privacy of his office. Another demon, only this one being the prince, having stolen her heart. 

“Take care of her,” Diavolo had whispered to his former lover, stroking her hair as she blissfully slept in Lucifer's arms. Her body was exhausted. 

“I always do,” Lucifer gave the faintest of smiles to Diavolo before parting ways, his whole being flooded with pride to have two lovers back in his life. 

Lucifer was ecstatic; nostalgia of feelings came flooding back that he had kept down with Diavolo. But he was also weary. This behaviour from her was completely askew. She’d teased Lucifer before in Diavolo’s and public presence, but never to the extent that she had begged him to take her there and then. Never had she looked so radiant yet so frustrated at the same time. And never had she been so unsatisfied that it had taken a few more rounds than normal to satisfy her. Something was wrong. The only thing Lucifer could think of was that the potion with Solomon had gone wrong and Lucifer needed to get to the bottom of it. 

-

“Lock her in her room. No one is to enter until I get back. Do you understand?” Lucifer asked one final time to Satan and Belphegor, the pair of them sat outside her room. He had tucked her sleeping figure into bed, placing a spell on the door to ensure no one could get in. He needed to ensure first what was happening in case another episode occurred. 

The morning and afternoon had faded by the time their session had ended, meaning Solomon would be finished from his afternoon classes. Unfortunately for Solomon, mixing up the potions would be the least of his troubles as Lucifer pinned him against the wall the second he caught sight of his white hair. 

‘What did you do to her?!” Lucifer hissed, his eyes aglow as he leaned in closer to the young boy's face. 

“Nothing. Nothing I swear,” Solomon was rolling his eyes; he was far from scared of Lucifer and it showed. “Just a little hiccup is all.”.

“Hiccup? Hiccup!” Lucifer mocked, steam ready to pour out of his nose and ears with anger. “She’s like a- like a…”.

“Like a demon in heat?” Solomon prodded the bear with his choice of words. “It’s fine Lucifer, just enjoy the fact she’s going to want to be on your cock endlessly for the next few days.”

A poor choice of words. A very poor choice of words. 

If Lucifer’s anger hadn’t been poured into Satan then the clenched fist slammed directly into the wall would have landed straight on Solomon's face.

“What did you do,boy?” Lucifer raged into demon form, a row of fire lighting up behind him as he towered over Solomon, teeth snaring. The soft Lucifer had vanished. Facing Solomon right now was a beast, a beast that was angry. And for the first time Solomon was scared of the demon facing him.

“A mix up! A mix up, alright? She’s just got more hormones in her body than intended; it will wear off in the next few days but there is nothing I can do to help - it’s Golden Hell Fire Newt Syrup”.

“Golden Hell Fire Newt Syrup? But it didn’t affect me or Di-“ Lucifer stopped his sentence there.

“The potion is neutralised to only affect humans. And since humans don’t have blood like demons, the command won’t work to stop it either…” 

‘So what you’re saying is-” Lucifer grasped his jacket and hoisted him up into the air.

“She’s in her own heat, so my advice to you and the others is to just be prepared and help her because it’s going to be a long ride for her.” With that sentence, Lucifer dropped Solomon to the floor, letting him fall with a thump before racing back to the house of Lamentation. 

-

“Who does he think he is? Barking his commands at us, I swear he- oi! Are you even listening?” Satan punched his younger sibling in the arm. Belphegor, who’d started to fall asleep, slumped against the wall, jolted forward.

“Ay! What’s your problem?” Snarling slightly before pushing the long curve of hair out of his face, he said “We just gotta sit here until Lucifer comes back.” 

Even saying the name of their eldest brother made both of their blood boil. 

“Well anyway, I’m not here on babysitting duty.” Satan took hisD.D.D, turning it off before putting it back in his pocket. “Still got him blocked?”.

“Would you unblock someone who shoved you in an attic?” Belph rolled his eyes.

“Touché,” Satan nodded before pushing himself off the wall. “What do you reckon is wrong with her? She looked wrecked. Reckon something went wrong with Solomon?” 

“I wouldn’t put it past that slimy wizard… No good for nothing-“ Belph muttered before stopping, a noise from inside making them both still. The young girl was calling out for Lucifer in a confused manner, only infuriating the brothers more. 

“Why does Lucifer always get her to himself? Always giving out his commands,” Satan growled as he ran a hand through his hair. “Enough is enough, I’m not listening to his rules. Fuck him.” 

“Hey Satan, you really gonna mess with Lucifer?” Belphegor's eyes lost all sleepiness as they sparkled with mischief.

-

“Lucifer…?” She continued to call out. “Anyone?” She took a few steps outside her room. She knew she had heard voices but to whom they belonged she was unsure. Her bare feet padded along the dark corridor, following the noises that lured her. 

She was pleasantly surprised to find that when she woke up the muscle aches she thought she would have were not there. Something in the potion must work to help soothe her aches. Lucifer had undressed her from her sweat soaked uniform and covered her in her nightie. 

She couldn’t stop the flush of her cheeks after her actions this afternoon; she had felt like she’d lost all control of her body and given into the need of sexual desires - which normally wasn’t a problem, but begging Lucifer and Diavolo to ravage her in the middle of a meeting was a different story. She was searching for Lucifer to apologise for her behaviour, although secretly she knew both of them had enjoyed it just as much as she had. Today had marked a new day for someone to become part of their relationship, from seven lovers to now eight. Knowing Diavolo would not allow this to be a one time thing - which she was rather excited about. 

“Lucifer? Are you in here? I- I wanted to apologise for earlier-“ She knocked on his office door, pausing as she walked in, “Oh.” Her eyes fell on the pair causing havoc in Lucifer’s office.

“Stop being such a sloth! Faster!” Satan was unscrewing the lids of Lucifer's ink bottles before placing them back down, so when Lucifer next used them the ink would most likely spill everywhere.

“I’m going as fast as I can! Stop rushing me!” Belphegor's tongue was sticking out of his mouth in concentration, counting out five sheets before pulling one from the stacking pile of work on the desk. He continued this down until he had a few sheets of paperwork in his hand, meaning every fifth paper from his stack was missing. Both of them were going out of their way to mess with Lucifer in a way they knew would annoy him most. 

“Ah!” Satan squealed to see her standing in the doorway, dropping one of the bottles and sending ink dropping to form a thick black puddle on the carpet. “Oh, it’s you. I thought you were Lucifer.”

“Pft, how does a human girl look anything like Lucifer?” Belph gave her a warm smile and gestured for her to enter properly. “What are you doing out of bed? Lucifer told us to guard you.”

“Guard me?” She laughed, her smiling instantly brightening up their moods. “I just- I wasn’t feeling too well, but I feel better now.” She took a few steps further into Lucifer's office, carefully avoiding the ink stain.

“Good. How did it go with Solomon, kitten? Everything in the clear?” Satan took her hand and pressed a delicate kiss to it. In his moments of affection she really did question how he could be the avatar of wrath.

“All good,” she nodded, letting out a gasp to feel two arms encircle her waist and pull her close.

“That’s great news, because you know,” Belphegor was embracing her to him, his nose tracing over her neck inhaling the delicate scent of lavender and rose from her skin with a low groan, “tonight’s my night with you.” She was glad her face was hidden from view as her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Belph was the most affectionate towards her. The sweetest of kisses, the warmest of hugs, the doting affection he only gave to her, the way he’d kiss her so softly before whispering, “Good morning my sunshine.” Because in Belph’s eye, she was his sun, bringing light and life into his world. In heat he was a beast, but outside of it he was a sleepy teddy bear, who just wanted to love her with everything he had. 

“You won’t get anything if you don’t sort out this mess,” she huffed, trying to distract herself from the tingle in her thighs. She could feel it happening again, the same empowerment she had felt in Diavolo’s office, stirring stronger from the smallest of Belphegor's affection and touches. 

“No. No stop that, you’re ruining it,” Satan grumbled as she began putting the paperwork back in its position. 

“One, two, three, fou-oh!” Her sentence slurred into a moan as Belphie pressed his body up against her back, pinning her slightly to the desk. Two warm palms began teasing the back of her thighs before pressing flat against her skin and pushing upwards slowly. The thin material of her nightie, which skirted mid-thigh, crept slowly up. Belph expected her to slap his hands away, but he never expected for her to part her legs a little wider for him to witness the already wet flesh between her bare thighs. A low hum rang against her neck, one hand cupping the round curve of her ass and giving it a playful squeeze.

“I think,” came Belph’s voice, dropping into a huskier tone, “that this is enough mischief for one day. Let us retire to my room.”

“Like hell you are!” Satan snapped, pulling Belphs gaze away from her slickened folds. “She’s more aroused than usual; I should know.”. His words were followed by a smug snicker. “I bet she’s thinking of him.” ‘Him’ being a reference to Lucifer. 

“Actually,” her hands gripped onto the edge of the desk, giving in once more to the heat that burned across her body whilst her cunt clenched with need, “I was thinking of both of you and all the mess we could cause over this desk.” As she finished her words, she pressed back to rub against Belphegor's crotch which was already rapidly hardening from scent and sight alone.

“No fair, my love, it is my night with you.” He gave her ass another squeeze. As much as he hated sharing her, the thought of having her on Lucifers desk was arousing to him. Knowing Lucifer would have to see the marks that she left, smell her scent upon the table and having to know that it was him and Satan that were the reason for it. It would drive him wild, which would essentially drive both the two brothers wild with enthusiasm.

“And a night with me you will get, I promise.” Turning her head over her shoulder to catch his lips, she let his eager tongue part her lips as it sought out her own.

-

“This isn’t what I had in mind.” Satan was huffing against her neck for the third time in ten minutes,

“Just be patient, it is his night after all,” she replied as she pushed Belph flat against Lucifers desk before straddling him, whilst Satan was pressed as close as he could behind her. With one hand wrapped around his cock, she lowered herself down, still sensitive from the previous high that they brought her to with their fingers and mouths. “Oh god… Belph!” Her finger grasped at his hoodie, both him and Satan still fully dressed whilst her nightie had been tossed to the floor. 

Belph couldn’t find the words to respond, watching her sink down as his cock disappeared inside her tight heat. She was wetter than he or Satan had ever seen her, bursting and coming to life as she told them exactly what she needed, letting the lust and arousal in her body speak for her.

His fingers traced up her thighs, hands ghosting over her waist and behind, leaving a trail of goosebumps upon her skin as she whined loudly. The teasing touches and the stretch of him inside her was too much, walls pulsing as she came with him fully hilted inside her. Her jaw slackened and a cold sweat ran down the back of her spine, the salted droplets being lapped up from Satan as his hands continued to squeeze over her breasts.

“Kitten- I really need to be inside you,” he groaned, the head of his cock pressing against the left cleft of her ass leaving a clear mark of pre-release upon her skin. 

“Lube is in… the… top drawer,” she panted, letting her movements slow down as she rode out her high. This wasn’t the first time she’d gotten down and dirty in this office, having provided a very stunned Lucifer with a one-on-one private show of her and her toy collection whilst he worked. 

All Belph could do was groan and raise his hips every so often, hitting all the perfect angles inside her to make stars dance across her vision. Her movements kept on at a slow pace whilst Satan prepared himself.

“Be a good kitten and make them wet,” he commanded as he stood back behind her, letting his fingers thrust into her mouth at the same time she lowered and raised over Belph. 

Another climax hit her when Satan’s fingers began playing and teasing her puckered hole from behind before a finger, dripping with saliva, slowly pushed in. The slow rhythm of her movements allowed for Satan to let her body adjust before two fingers were thrusting inside her. Each time they pulled back, her muscles clenched sending Belph into a groaning mess at her spasming walls. 

“More,” she begged, her fingers ripping the front of Belph’s clothes as she grinded forward to feel him hit against her g-spot.

“Good girl kitten, that’s it - relax,” Satan cooed, his fingers removed to only be replaced with something much larger and thicker. 

“Relax,” Belphegor encouraged, leaning up the best he could as he pulled her down by her shoulders to kiss her. Satan slowly pushed in, her whimpers and moans caught by Belphs mouth, until finally two cocks were buried to the hilt inside her. Satan did nothing more than pull out as Belph thrusted up, sending her headfirst into another climax. Her palm scratched at the wooden desk below Belphs shoulders, leaving curled pieces of wood right in front of where Lucifer would sit. 

“There! There! Fuck- like that,” her head being thrown back in bliss at their rhythm. One would thrust whilst the other pulled back, gaining a pace that had slapping skin ringing through the office. The pace would slow when one got close, wanting to focus on her and leaving her with the ability to only say their names and think of them. Belph continued to tease her skin with faint touches, the occasional grab of her waist to guide her before ghosting over her skin once more. When her breath became a high pitched gasp, her lust filled eyes would catch his, a signal for him to help push her over the edge. Satan’s hands would tug her nipples, his sharp teeth nipping at her stretched neck whilst Belph’s thumb would rub tight circles over her swollen clit, perfectly synchronised to bring her tumbling straight over the edge of sanity.

Climax after climax hit her, tongue lolling to the side at being penetrated by both of them. It wasn’t something she was new to; being in a relationship with seven brothers meant double, sometimes even triple, penetration was a regular occurrence. But never did she feel this full, this ravenous. 

By the time Satan and Belph had spilled inside her, Lucifer's desk was soaked in fluids, paperwork and hardwood stained with her release that had soaked down Belphegor's thighs and onto the surface below. Each time Satan had thrusted into her, traces of lube would drip down their thighs to pool onto a puddle on the floor. Her scent stained the room, which Lucifer wouldn’t have minded but it was tainted with the hint of his brothers.

And to make matters worse for their eldest brother, Satan had snapped a photo whilst she was mid-orgasm. Ensuring to get his cock stretching her ass whilst Belph fucked her pussy. The photo itself was a masterpiece: Her back arched, head pressing against Satan's shoulders with her eyes tightly shut and her own hands pinching her nipples; The face of someone lost in the wild abandonment of pleasure. A caption of ‘Can’t believe you tried to hide this’ followed. 

“I think we made a pretty good mess, Kitten,” Satan panted against her shoulder, his face as red as her behind which had been slapped multiple times ather request. 

“I don’t think I can move,” she whispered, her legs purely boneless as Belph sat up to carry her bridal style.

“Hey! Where are you going?” Satan yelled, watching Belph carry her out of the room, leaving the office stained and her nightie upon the floor. 

“I told you,” Belph growled lowly, “it’s my night with her.”

-

Regardless of how fast Lucifer had run, he was too late. He stumbled into his sex-scented office. Release from her left a sticky glaze over his desk whilst scratch marks looked like a beast had clawed at them. His gloved hands held tightly onto the nightie upon the floor. The mess of his desk was an issue for another time; he would place no blame upon her. 

“You utter imbecile!” Fangs pointed out from his gums as he found Satan alone in the library in the west wing of the house.

“You saidto not let anyone in; you didn’t say she couldn’t come out,” Satan taunted, smugness plastered over his face. He knew Lucifer had seen his office from the silk material of her clothes he still clutched in his hand. He also knew he had seen the explicit image he had made sure to send him. “As I said, why did you try to hide her?”

“The potion went wrong. She’s in heat.” Lucifer watched as Satan’s eyes sparkled.

“But that’s impossible. She’s a human, how did-“ the blonde began.

“Solomon. Solomon is how.” Lucifer pushed a hand through his hair. “Where is she now?”.

“In the attic.” Satan returned to his book as Lucifer turned on his heel. “But Lucifer.” Lucifer threw his head over his shoulder, ready for a snide remark about the activities that went on in his office. “Normally I wouldn’t bother about you but, for her sake, I’d leave them be.”

“And why’s that?” Lucifer stopped and turned, crossing his arms over his chest.

Satan continued to express his smugness, his eyes peering over the top of his book. “Remember when Levi was in heat and destroyed that Ruri-chan pillow?”.

“Of course… he bit Mammon for trying to take it away”

His lips curling into a smirk, Satan put his book down. “Belphegor is the pillow.”

-

“Good morning my little star-light.” Belphegor brushed her hair out of her face, a sleepy smile on his face. His eyes still shut, the urge to fall back to sleep lulling him into the warmth embrace.

“Good morning you,” she yawned, eyes fluttering open as Belph’s strong arms pulled her close. The warmth of his skin against her and the content smile on his face was a sin of its own kind. A small giggle left her as he pulled her closer, burying her head against his chest. “We need to get up soon.” As she pressed a trail of small kisses over his heart, she smiled to herself to feel the hardness already pressing against her stomach. 

“I thought you would have been worn out after last night,” he gasped as her hand teased its way into his boxers, wrapping around his cock and stroking in a lazily manner.

“I was but-“ Her body felt rejuvenated and fresh, no muscle aches, only heat coursing through her veins. “I’m hungry for more.” A deep groan filled the attic space as her mouth replaced her hand, waking Belph and repaying him tenfold for the way he had satisfied her the previous night.

-

When she finally pulled herself out of the attic, leaving Belph still panting and breathless from the way her mouth had worked over him, she ran straight into Lucifer. Luckily, Belph had dressed her in one of his hoodies for her modesty, not that she minded.

“My dove, you really should rest. I fear you cannot leave the house in your state.” Lucifer cupped her cheek and was rubbing his thumb softly against her. “It is not safe for you”

“Lucifer, I- I’m so sorry for yesterday, I really don’t know what came over me…” A blush spread across her cheeks. Even now, as he glanced down at her, the top of her thighs became damp and she regretted the lack of underwear she had on. 

“My dear-“ He stopped, pupils widening at the heavenly scent hitting his nose She was extremely aroused. “It appears Solomon gave you the wrong potion; yours is filled with an aphrodisiac we can’t control. It should fade in a few days, but for the time being it is safest for you to stay here.”.

She nodded in response, pressing herself closer to him and letting her fingers toy with the buttons of his waistcoat. 

“Lucifer...,” she meekly whispered, leaning up to kiss him. He melted into her kiss, letting his arms hold onto her shoulders as she continued to press against him. “I want to thank you for yesterday.” Her fingers slowly unpopped a button and she began pressing her lower half against him in a silent plea as her tongue playfully darted across his lower lip. She was losing her self control in a rapid manner, whining heavily as he pulled back.

“I fear I have matters to attend to today, otherwise I would be more than happy to keep you content in the confines of my room.” He watched as her eyes sparkled with lust, a hint of disappointment forming over her face. 

“I’ll be waiting for you to come home,” she pouted as he did up the buttons she’d undone. 

-

She ate breakfast and had a bath to calm herself down before pulling out her small vibrator and withering away in her satin sheets. Is what she would have done if she had listened to Lucifer. Instead, she showered and set off to find the sorcerer who had caused all her problems, hoping to find a way for him to help calm her constant need. 

Dressed in a white summer dress, a slightly plunge top with a skater skirt and her hair down in loose curls, off she went to him in purgatory hall. It probably wasn’t the best decision to wear such a short dress but her skin felt on fire; clothes were just too restrictive at the moment. She’d cleaned her thighs before she left, making her best effort to prevent her scent from wandering demons. And all was going well until a masculine scent hit her nose. One of Beel’s team mates walked past her; he must have been to the gym as sweat gleamed off his shirtless body. The smell of pheromones hit her instantly and she felt a throb between her legs instantly ruining her underwear. The scent of her was caught by the demon, who turned whilst sniffing into the air. She had to move quickly or he’d trace the scent to her. 

With a frantic look around, she realised how far she still was from Solomon’s quarters but luckily Simeon’s room was only a few doors away from where she stood. Without a second though she raced to the room, listening as footsteps quickly approached behind her. Without knocking, she flung herself into Simeon’s room, thanking anyone and everyone that the door was open. Only, she didn’t expect to see what she did inside.

“Normie…?” Leviathan called out as she panted against the door. In the glowing light of the room were Simeon and Leviathan sat at a table, a stack of comics between them.

“Levi? Oh god, Levi, it’s you.” She took a few running steps to embrace him from behind as he sat down, sending the boy redder than beetroot. “Oh, and Simeon, I’m so sorry for barging in.”

“It is quite alright my sweet,” the angel said, smiling wholesomely at her. “You look parched. What happened?”

“Oh I just-“ she started, her eyes falling to the exposed muscles of his biceps. Beneath his cloak and visible from his black top was the clear outline of his god-sculpted body. A body that made her lose all train of thought.

“Yo, normie?” Levi pinched her hand gently to break her trance.

“Huh? Oh sorry, I just thought someone was following me. Would it be okay if I hung out here for a little while to calm down?” By ‘calm down’ she meant for her core to stop pulsing and her thighs to stop rubbing together. She was getting worse by the minute sitting with the two boys, the total opposites of each other; the demon of envy and the most angelic angel to walk the dusty pits of hell. A yin and yang she most definitely wanted to be in the middle of. “So what are you doing here Levi?” She pulled herself off him and took a seat between them. 

Levi, unable to stop the breath hitching in his throat when she walked in, could scent her before she even walked through the front door. And that was when he realised why she came running into Simeon’s room. Any demon nearby would have been able to pick up her scent with how strong it was. He also sensed her rapid heart beat, pumping and throbbing like her pulse as red tinted her cheeks the look of arousal written all over her face. 

“Levi here is showing me the ways of ‘manga’,” Simeon smiled, oblivious to the way the young girl was fidgeting in her seat.

“Normie, are you alright?” The purple haired demon asked as he watched her. He’d received a message in the group chat from Lucifer to state she was, quote, in a ‘situational state’ with nothing more. Satan had replied with a smirk emoji, leaving Levi to question what exactly was happening.

“I- I need to use the bathroom.” she stammered as the rising colour of her cheeks spread down her neck and chest, making the white dress glow atop of her skin. The more she looked between the two, the more her mind wandered into dirty territory...

“Normie, you don’t look well.” 

Both Leviathan and Simeon reached out to hold her arms. The young girl’s back arched at the contact and gripped the table edge as she stood up, unable to look either of them in the eye as she was unable to hold back the moan, the slight of touches having sent her in the deepest pit of lust and arousal. 

“Levi-“ She finally turned her head over her shoulder to meet his gaze, her eyes swimming and lost behind a clear gaze. Cheeks flushed and her lips parted, she didn’t have to say another word for Leviathan to understand. This was the state Lucifer was clearly on about. With her legs spread a little, the aroma of her arousal quickly found itself to both him and Simeon and Levi knew in that moment just how desperate the situation was. 

“Shit normie.. I-“ Leviathan scratched the back of his neck as he looked between her and Simeon, unsure of how to handle the situation. 

Simeon watched her, a familiar tension building in his stomach, a feeling he often felt around her but was usually able to ignore. But in this moment it was almost overpowering, overwhelming and he was unable to fight the strong stir of emotions inside him. 

“Simeon… I’m so sorry-“ she began and, as she turned, the angel felt himself crumple from the heated gaze that bore down at him as passionate lust took over his body. 

The potion may have had no effect on demons, but the scent alone was enough to have an impact on the angel, sending him into an aroused state.

“Do not apologise, my sweet.” Simeon took one of her hands and pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “You by far smell more sweet than anything I have come across. Do not deny yourself the pleasure you desire.” He nodded at Levi who stood up to wrap his arms around her waist. “Use my room as you please.”

“Is this okay?” Levi whispered into the shell of her ear, worried about her more than anything else. Her answer came in a quick nod and her hands bunched up the skirt of her dress to expose the white silk resting upon her skin.

Simeon’s heart was racing as he sat forward, intrigued to watch Levi slowly tug down her underwear, watching the gloss of her arousal stick to the fabric before it pooled to a heap on the floor. A groan filled the room. She was unsure if it came from Levi or Simeon. 

“Please…” she whispered, spreading her legs as she bent forward, exposing her drenched cunt to both of them.

-

Eager eyes flitted between the two of them, Simeon still watching the couple. How Levi had knelt down, spreading the cheeks of her behind to gain better access to her before letting his serpent tongue flicker across her wet slit. How her arms gave out and she fell flat against the oak table, letting her hips buck against his face as he kept her ass in place whilst his tongue disappeared between her velvety folds. How she lost herself when her climax hit after only a few moments calling out for more.

“Leviathan,” she whispered so sweetly as she turned around once his mouth had pulled away from her, the same lips slicked with wetness pressing against her own as her tongue played with his, which had just brought her intense pleasure. 

“I got you.” Hushed whispers shared against her lips as she hastily undid his belt, her hand diving into the confines of his boxers to wrap around his cock, stroking it until he was fully hard, both of them almost forgetting about their audience as he pushed her down, spreading her thighs and pushing them around his waist as he lined himself up against her, taking her with no resistance as he slid into her tight heat.

It was lustful, it was a sin, but most importantly it was love. The reassuring whispers of “I’ve got you, I love you,” as Levi drove deeper into her. His hands holding her waist as he pulled her up to meet his thrusts, her legs tightly around his waist squeezing and tensing with each rock of his hips. The thin silk of her drenched underwear hanging off her ankle, swaying with each movement, almost taunting Simeon as he watched on. 

It was the soft whimpers of ‘harder’ that pulled him from his trance, shining eyes of blue meeting hers in a gaze as they stared on in wonder. Her dress pushed up just enough to bare her waist, her breasts spilling from the top half and bouncing forward with each thrust. Back arched like a bow reaching breaking point off the table, petite hands grasping at anything they could find. And, whilst he and her held eye contact, he watched in awe as she came. Her voice raising into a high pitch moans, chest rising and collapsing quickly, her body curling as they finally broke eye contact when her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Her moans were so sweet they made the angel blush. He was positive they could part the clouds and give a direct pathway to the gates of heaven. 

It made him wonder how something so beautiful and breathtaking could be such a sin.

It was that which ruined the angel. He was unable to stop himself as a hand began to palm over his erect cock in his pants. Scent, sight and sound became too overbearing for him as he gave into the heat of his need.

The air in the room had changed, Leviathan too busy driving into her to notice it. His grunts and the slapping of his skin echoed off the walls, whilst she came down from her high to fix on Simeon. Watching him as he watched her, his pupils expanding as his tongue darted out to wet his parched lips whilst he continued to touch himself above his clothes. 

By her third orgasm, Leviathan was unable to stop himself holding back, gritting his teeth as his pace began to falter. His eyes screwed shut as his jaw clenched, a stuttered groan came as he released inside her, pressing himself tightly against her to be sure he filled her with everything he had, her name hot off his lips as he leaned down to kiss her, keeping themselves together as they basked in their afterglow. 

“You did so good,” He praised, cupping her cheek as he wiped away the tears that formed under her eyes. Until finally he pulled out of her, his seed from inside her spilling onto the table beneath. “I’ll get a towel,” he said, giving her hand a squeeze before leaving the room. She would have blissfully laid against the table not moving, but the presence of another kept her from doing so. 

“Simeon…” Her voice angelic to his ears as she sat up, her breasts swaying as she stood in front of him, slowly kneeling down. “My sweet, sweet, angel…” The tan of his skin was flushed red as her eyes wandered down, his hand continuing to mess over the front of his trousers as he looked at her like a helpless lamb. “Let me.” She leaned up as she ghosted her lips against his in a way to test him, to test if he’d show any protest but instead he melted into her, letting his lips glide over hers as if that was their sole purpose. 

Her hand slowly trailed up his thighs, parting his legs as she fitted between them. Her own hand replaced his as he whined softly against her. Hands slowly unpopped the buttons, the haste from before now eased into a soothing-time stopping pace. No rush, just slow, burning desire.

“Am I the first?” She questioned, gently nipping at his lower lip as his trousers and boxers slowly came down, her hand ghosting over his erect length but not fully touching.

“Y-yes.” His breath hitched to feel her hand slowly wrap around him. Her eyes widened in shock at the length of him; the gods had truly blessed him. 

“Oh- I-“ His words were lost as his hips slowly bucked into her touch.

“Do you want me to stop?” Letting him free of her hand, she stared up at him with doting affection.

“Please-don’t,” he said, taking a deep breath as she wrapped her hand back around him, her face leaning close. 

“My beautiful angel… my sweet, sweet angel,” she cooed, letting her hand move over him in a gentle grip, savouring the noises he made. The world was completely forgotten,the two of them sharing an intimate moment as she wetted her lips before slowly taking his head into her mouth. His fingers grasped the edge of the chair, twitching as he breathed out in a stuttered breath. His mind went blank as she took him in further, pulling him into the wet depths of her mouth. Her name left his mouth like a chant, repeated like a prayer he spoke every morning and night. 

Leviathan had entered back into the room, pausing before turning and leaving the pair alone in their tender moment. 

Heat pooled in Simeon’s stomach as her lips touched the base of his cock, unable to hold back the groan as the pit inside him dropped. His eyes shut tight as white heat took over him, and then he was spilling down the back of her throat with no warning. 

She hollowed her cheeks as she swallowed his plentiful release, sucking him dry before releasing him. His taste was sweet, lingering, leaving a pleasant taste in her mouth. 

“My perfect angel,” she said, pressing a kiss to his head as his hand moved and intertwined with hers. Nothing in all of heaven had made him feel as good as she had. 

-

“She will be safe here,” Simeon’s face softened as he stared at the young girl asleep in his bed. After the events of earlier, she had passed out with a blissful face whilst the angel and demon cleaned up. “I’ve put a protection charm on the door. No one will be able to get in.”

“It’s not them getting in I’m worried about it’s her getting out,” Leviathan sighed, running his hands over his face. The two boys agreed to never speak of what had happened earlier, for an angel to allow lust to take over his actions especially from watching acts of a demon. 

“I promise you, no harm will come to her. Have you spoken to Lucifer?”

“Yes, he was so pissed she came out. But she’s like the rest of us; never listens to him,” Levi chuckled, watching her sleeping figure cosy up in the blankets. “I guess that’s why we all love her.”

“And did Lucifer explain this- her behaviour..?”

“One guess.”

“Solomon?” Simeon rolled his eyes.

“Bingo. Something about the wrong potion, her basically being in heat, I don’t know. It’s something he needs to explain in person. He was too busy yelling down the phone.”

“She is safe here, my friend. Let us wait until Lucifer comes.” Simeon reached for a comic off the table, intending to pick up the conversation from before she had come in. Only to stop when he saw wetness that they’d missed coating the cover.

-

Lucifer had gone ballistic when he arrived, all his rage was bubbling through him as he yelled left, right and center. “You disobeyed me! how could you be so reckless?” He had scorned her, towering over her with gritted teeth. His words stopped and his anger subsided as her bottom lip trembled, her eyes filling with tears as she hung her head in shame. A weak, “I’m sorry,” made him pull her into his hold tightly, showering her forehead with kisses. He knew it wasn’t her fault; he was simply worried. Worried that if another had scented her the way she was then they would try to take her. “From now on, I need you to stay in the house, okay?” he said, cupping her face as he whispered softly, kissing her gently, hoping she would understand without him saying the words to show how worried he had been. 

Lucifer took her home and straight to his room, informing the brothers not to disturb them. He ran her a bath with rose petals, resting her back against his chest as he cradled her close, whispering sweet words of praise as he washed her. That night, he cared for her, letting his fingers work her she was almost sobbing for him to fill her properly. 

-

In the morning he had to go back to work. As much as he wanted to be with her, his loyalty to Diavolo came first. This time, however, he placed an enchantment on the whole house, ensuring the girl would not be able to leave; the front door, window and back door glued shut if she tried to open them. If another demon opened them and she tried to exit, they would face an electric shock, both of them. It even included the windows; he knew Belphegor had a tendency to sneak out of the attic window. Lucifer was taking no risk or chance. The only way she could leave was if Lucifer left with her or if he lifted the enchantment.

She woke up alone, throwing on one of Lucifer's shirts. Even his lingering scent was arousing, regardless of the way he’d taken care of her in the night. The potion was ruining her. None of the aches or the worn out muscles remained, only fresh feelings and a warm glow. 

She left his room and walked along the corridor until she heard it. 

“Sweeeeeeetie,” Asmo yelled, running, well, skipping, towards her at the top of his voice.

“Asssssie,” she laughed as he picked her up with ease, using strength only a few demons ever got to see. Her shirt lifted as she wrapped her legs around him.

“I heard someoooone’s been in a little trouble the last few days,” he teased in a singsong voice, walking with her in his arms. “I’m offended you didn’t come to me first.” He pouted as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a slow kiss.

“I’m sorry. I’m here now baby,” she whispered, letting that feeling of heat take over once more.

Asmo carried her into his room, keeping one arm around her as he ran a bath, kissing her tenderly whilst the water drew to the right heat, his hands slowly peeling off her shirt until his fingers glided over her soft skin.

“So perfect,” he whispered, letting her undo his own clothes, his trousers dropping to the floor as he picked her up and settled her into the water. He lay back with her straddling him, his mouth nipping gently at her neck as his hand dipped below the water to ghost over her thighs. “And I thought I was meant to be the lustful one,” he teased at the scent of her arousal, his eyes sparkling as he felt her heartbeat quicken. 

She didn’t have time to answer back with quick wit, instead letting his fingers work inside her until she came over them, the water splashing at the sides of the tub as she rocked gently over his until he sat up and began to push her back gently. 

“No,“ she blushed and stopped him, pushing him back down and taking his length into her hand. “I want to be on top.”

Asmo showed no sign of protest, holding her waist gently as his hands brushed up and down her sides whilst she lowered herself onto him. Whilst he knew he was skilled at giving pleasure to his lovers, that he liked to be in control, she needed this more. To let herself set the pace, the mood, the angle. She needed control more than he did at this moment. 

One arm circled her waist to keep her close, the other cupping her breast in his palm, squeezing it softly as it bounced in his hold. Her moans were captured by his mouth, a sweet kiss at first only breathing away for air., before pulling back to each other, this time tongues slipping between the velvet folds of their mouths, desperately searching for each other.

He kept her pressed against him when she came, whining so softly against his lips. His arm around her kept her close even as she tried to pull away naturally, her walls pulsing as he felt every tight flutter over him.

“That’s it, you're so good,” he cooed softly, taking his hand off her breast to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. His lips touched her ear as he shallowly rocked up against her. 

He encouraged her through another climax; he was skilled in holding off his own until finally he could do so no more. The water around them was now lukewarm as she pressed her lips tightly against his, the avatar of lust unable to resist anymore as he spilled inside her, bringing her to one final climax from the throb of his head against her cervix. 

He refused her help as he cleaned her thighs and skin with a wet cloth from the side, pressing kisses to her glowing lips. He enjoyed afterwards with her just as much sex itself; she brought him a different type of pleasure. The cuddles, the kisses, the reassurance through panting breaths, the way she looked so radiant as she curled up against him, still a little hazy and drunk off pleasure. He was good at that, making her feel so blissed out that words, colours and meaning to anything no longer made sense.

“I have a class I need to start getting ready for, sweetie.” Asmo pressed a kiss to her forehead, peeling himself away from her even though she clung after him as he placed her on his bed. “I skipped biology this morning, but it’s okay. I got a more physical lesson than R.A.D could ever teach.” He waggled his eyebrows playfully. “Here, this will satisfy you until someone’s back.” Asmo pulled out a toy that curved, passing her a remote. It was her toy, one that Asmo had bought for her when they began experimenting with different ones. He peppered kisses up her thighs before slowly easing it into her. It wasn’t as thick or as big as any of the brothers but at least it did all the work for her to satisfy her. 

She had already begun withering from it’s touch, the curve of it hitting against her g-spot with a humming vibration. Asmo stood for a few moments in silence, in admiration of her. She was beautiful. He didn’t have words for how special she was to him or his brothers, their human captivating the hearts of demons and giving them a piece of her own in return. He was just about to pull himself away to finally leave for class when his door open and in strolled-

“Solomon?” Looking on in confusion, the young girl quickly closed her spread thighs as the sorcerer came walking in as if he belonged.

“My, my.” He had a cheshire grin full of darkness, “So it is true.”

“Solomon, what are you- Get out!” Asmo took a step but a flick of the wrist from Solomon had him frozen in place. Asmo’s eyes darted to her in worry, unable to move any other part of his body. 

“My dear, I can practically sense your heat from here,” Solomon grinned as he focused his attention on her. She was softly mewling as the toy continued on a low intensity with her legs shut. “Don’t fear, I won’t touch.” He knew that if he placed a hand on her in this state, the brothers would feel it due to their pacts and it would only be a matter of seconds before Lucifer appeared. “I just want to watch.” He’d been fascinated at Lucifer's claims, that a human had gone into heat by his doing and he longed to see the effects of it in person himself. “May I?” 

The girl nodded and gently parted her thighs; she knew Solomon wouldn’t hurt her. She also knew of his ‘relationship’ with Asmo. If Asmo trusted him, then so did she. “I won’t touch her, I swear.” Solomon turned to Asmo with a soft look in his ashen eyes. With a click Asmo was free, stumbling forward slightly before stopping. 

“Sweetie… are you sure about this?” Asmo placed his hand on her knee and squeezed it slightly with reassurance. 

“Yes,” she breathed out in a part whine, the toy continuing to buzz inside her, making her stomach light, her eyes heavy with desire as they met Solomon’s. She let her thighs spread further, giving them a full view of her glistening folds as she gently gripped the sheets below. 

Solomon watched with sparkling eyes of lust as she came, quickly followed by another orgasm as Asmo cooed her softly through them, telling her how good she was. But by that point, Solomon was losing his composure. The scent of her heat was affecting him. He knew the potion she had taken had no effect on demons, but after his conversation with Simeon and the way his own body was becoming heated, he was feeling first hand that the effects could pass on to humans and other godly creatures.

“Touch her,” he commanded, peering down at Asmo as his hand moved to palm over the bulge growing in his black slacks. He would stay true to his word, he would not touch her, but he’d never said Asmo couldn’t. 

-

The flames of pleasure licked her lower stomach, a strong sensation she had only felt a few times before building inside. 

“A-Asmo-!” Her voice was wavering and brimmed to the lid with lust, her hands shaking as they grasped at his golden-brown hair.

“"Look at that, Asmo... She cums as easily as you. Just another needy little slut." Solomon's words were sharp, mocking, with a grin on his face, "The great Asmodeus, outdone by a needy slutty human. You should be ashamed."His words were followed by a harsh blow, the sound of the slap ricocheting off the walls as his hand came down onto Asmo’s ass. 

The mumbles of pleasure from the avatar of lust vibrated against her. His tongue languidly licked at her swollen clit whilst two fingers curled up against her walls, pressing over and over against the spot that was rendering her breathless and seeing stars. He wanted to gaze up, admire her body writhing in pleasure with his rose-gold eyes but the way Solomon was roughly pounding into him from behind had them rolling to the back of his skull.

The thrusts from Solomon had Asmo pulling and pushing away from her folds, her hips grinding desperately back against him in need of friction until her hands anchored his head in place to keep him where she desperately needed him. She whimpered his name, thick pools of lust beneath her eyes gazing up and meeting’s Solomon’s. His brow was knitted, his jaw clenched as he drove into Asmo, each thrust harder than the last. His perfect shade of winter eyes baring down at her was the final push she needed.

Her thighs trembled as her toes curled, gasping profoundly into the air with loud curses as every nerve inside her body set alight whilst every hair on her skin stood up. Her spine curved as she rose off the bed, thick rivulets of her arousal releasing from the build up of pressure inside her. 

The hot squirt against his mouth and hand had Asmo undone; getting her to squirt had only happened on a few occasions. He whined heavily, almost louder than her as he came, shooting thick white against his torso as it dripped onto the floor. Solomon growled lowly at the tight clench of Asmo around him, his cock heavily throbbing inside him until he found his own release. His hips pressed harshly against his ass, his cock pulsing as he came inside him.

"You're just a natural slut like Asmo here. Such messy people." Solomon chuckled, slightly breathless as he gazed down at the mess glazing Asmo's skin. The demon surprisingly went red-faced under his words. "Little sluts need to be kept under control. Who knows the trouble you'd get into?" His gaze flickered to the woman. "Must be why Lucifer keeps you on such a short leash."

Solomon grinned with a devilish smile as Asmo cleaned her and himself up, resting against the door frame as he pulled up his slacks. The potion effects seemed to have worked unbelievably well, far better than any aphrodisiac he had ever seen. The girl had been able to handle multiple climaxes, each one growing in intensity until finally it became too much. Whilst she trembled with her aftershocks, she had been able to tell him that after a few hours’ rest her body would recover and be begging for more, muscle aches and bruising all vanishing as if just a dream. 

The white haired sourcer pulled Asmo into a deep kiss before, in the blink of an eye, he was gone, disappearing into thin air at the sound of the front door opening andLucifer calling out. He had come to check she was still there. 

“I’m here,” she panted out, Asmo helping them both to dress as she climbed under the covers. She was exhausted. Lucifer appeared with a smile which quickly faded; he sensed something in the air. 

“My love, who has been here?” His question sounded more like a command as he focused his gaze on her. Asmo could feel her bashfulness at having to explain the situation which occured, choosing to save her the trouble instead. 

“Come, she’s tired.” Asmo blew her a kiss before he tightly gripped Lucifer’s arm and led him down the corridor. 

-

Asmo calmed Lucifer down, explaining everything to him. Telling him how the girl saw Solomon just as close and special to her as she did the brothers. The same applied to Simeon after Levi had told him about the previous day. And Lucifer himself knew first hand the claim to her Diavolo now held.

“As much I hate the thought of his hands on her, if she wishes to be with them as well, we must let her and respect her wishes,” Lucifer sighed. He and his brothers had to accept that she touched the hearts of many and that they simply couldn’t keep her to themselves. “I fear we must learn to share our human, or we simply will push her away…”

-

The following morning she rose and headed to the kitchen. Although she still wasn’t going to R.A.D, she tried to keep herself in the routine of getting up and ready. Only, a dull throb pulsed between her thighs upon entering the kitchen upon sighting a shirtless beel wearing low skimmed joggers. Her eyes began falling down his toned torso, abs chiseled by the gods themselves, to the mouth watering v-line that led directly to his-

"Pft! Quit your starin’," Mammon huffed, pulling her out of her trance after witnessing her eyes practically glow. He was still overzealous when it came to her, hating that he had to share and fight for her attention amongst his brothers and, now, three more. 

“I-” a near growl rose deep within her chest to witness Beel innocently licking cream he’d spilled from his deviled puff eclair off his long, slender fingers. Unable to find words, she found herself throbbing and clenching over nothing as she rubbed her thighs on the spot where she stood. All she was able to do was shoot Mammon a look. A look he knew far too well as a smug grin took over his face. 

“I could smell ya from ya room,” he said in a low growl of a voice as he stalked towards her like a predator upon prey, the avatar of greed caging her in between him and the kitchen counter. The pink of his tongue darted out to swipe across the pointed fangs of his teeth before he leaned in. “I betcha ya already dripping.” His suspicion was confirmed as she sat upon the counter, hitching her skirt up for him to witness the wet patch already staining the silk of her underwear. A small ‘please’ was all she could muster, giving into the heat surging across her body as the need grew stronger with each passing second. “I’ve been waiting for ya, to get ma time with ya, waiting to make that tight pussy feel so good that ya won’t want anyone else.”

The following few moments were a blur, her eyes held tightly shut, nails scratching indents into the wooden surface. Her mind was left blank, two fingers swirling over her clit whilst two more thrusted into her tight cunt, unsure whose hand was whose. Her body lay flat against the surface as the two brothers stood between her legs, one leg hooked over Mammon's shoulder whilst the other rested over Beels, the two of them working in perfect unison to bring her to a blissful climax before the sun had fully risen. 

-

“Look,” Mammon’s voice commanded as he gripped her chin to keep her facing the full length mirror in front of his bed. Naked, he sat with her back to his chest, her feet placed onto his spread legs with his cock buried to the hilt inside her, giving her a full show of his cock disappearing and entering her each time he lifted her up. 

His teeth caught her ear as he whispered filth, “Look how well you take me, my tight human, my lewd girl,. Cumming again? Filthy girl, ya gonna make me bust a nut squeezing me like that, that’s it, scream ma name baby.” 

He held her waist with an arm around her, using his hidden strength to lift her up and down as he thrusted deeper. The girl was in the deepest of pleasure, tongue lolling to the side with her eyes thick with rapture, her head resting back on Mammon’s chest as she let him work her body. 

A low growl reminded her that there was another in the room Beel sat watching from the side with his hand around himself, his eyes focused purely on her, watching Mammon stretching her and her perky breasts bouncing up and down. His jaw ached to be on them, his tongue ready to devour her and his cock ready to buried deep inside her. 

“My turn,” he growled, as Mammon’s hips pressed up against her, his teeth in her shoulder to muffle his cry as he came inside her. Beel blocked the view of the mirror as he stood in front, the girl whimpering at the size of him. She couldn’t lie, his cock always scared her. Like his physical build, it was huge and intimidating. 

“Wait ya turn, I’m not done.” Mammon continued to shallowly thrust as she began to tremble in his hold, clenching around him with a tight grip. A heavy groan left him, making Beel roar in anger. 

The ginger dropped to his knees. His height had him now eye level with the girl as he kissed her deeply. One of his hands began thumbing over her nipple as the other toyed with her clit, making her buck violently against Mammon. The added stimulation had her thighs quaking and, if not for Mammon for holding her up, she would have fallen sideways as she came. 

They helped her ride out the high, before Beel lifted her up and off Mammon, Mammon unable to match his strength as he huffed, watching Beel push himself into her. The girl shifted so her legs were around Beel, her arms around his neck as she clung to him. She was as light as a feather to him, him kissing her deeply as she felt Mammon stand and line himself up behind her. His cock, slicked with her arousal, together with wet fingers, pressed against her puckered hole. 

“We’re gonna fuck ya so good,” Mammon licked the shell of her ear as a finger pushed into her, Beel slowly bouncing her off his cock, both brothers as greedy as each other as they filled her, taking climax after climax and leaving her utterly speechless. It was hard to tell in that moment which one really was the avatar of greed.

-

The next day, the girl had literally fucked the heat out of her body. Mammon and Beel had sent her into overstimulation as they worked together until she saw stars and came close to passing out. 

But when she woke up in her own bed the next day, heading down to breakfast and seeing all of the brothers, no rush of arousal came to her. The potion’s effects had finally worn off. 

“Morning!” She smiled sweetly, walking in and grabbing a slice of toast off the counter. The brothers waited a second, seeing if she would pounce on any of them but it never came. Instead, she merrily chatted and took a bite out of her food. 

The girl was thankful it was Saturday so she could enjoy some free time on the weekend. 

“Well, I think I might go out, get some fresh air if anyone wants to join?” she asked, turning around and heading out the door. But a leather glove stopped her, sending her turning backwards to see all of the brothers stalking close to her, Lucifer keeping a grip on her wrist. 

“It seems, my dove, you overspent myself and my brothers this week.” Lucifer pulled her close, his hand cupping her cheek. “You’ve been a very needy girl.” 

Lucifer caught her lips as the other brothers surrounded her, each one pulling at her for her attention, several pairs of lips finding her own, several sets of hands beginning to undress her and caress her skin. 

For the first time, all seven of the brothers shared her, savouring their tiny human all for themselves. And as for getting some fresh air, that was never going to happen, since she wasn’t able to leave the house at any point that weekend, purely because she couldn’t walk the following day. 

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[yuyupowers]

aristocrat!seonghwa

aristocrat!seonghwa x fem!reader

genre: fluff

trigger warning(s): patriarchal society mostly. let me know if there’s anything else!

author’s note: none of the pictures are mine!!

for reference, i’m using british peerage (hierarchy). there are five ranks: baron, viscount, earl (count), marquess, and duke - the highest being duke, and the lowest, baron.

second son of a duke

i imagine seonghwa to be someone who values tradition

unlike hongjoong who finds who finds the numerous aristocratic mannerisms pointless, hwa believes upholding these (rather stringent) rules is a sign of respect

perfect gentleman pt.1

excellent in swordsmanship, horse-back riding, and hunting

well versed in poetry, literature, art, and finance

(can maintain a conversation about politics but honestly it kinda goes over his head)

a bit on the shyer side, but a decent conversationalist

good at keeping the flow and mediating in case anyone becomes a little too heated about their opinions

definitely cares about his and his family’s image

naturally caring and tends to dote on those close to him

(translates into excellent manners)

holds the door open, offers his hand when stepping out of carriages, makes sure to walk on the side closest to traffic, diverts conversation when things are too “distressing,” wouldn’t be caught dead alone with a woman that wasn’t related to him or his fiancée/wife

and surprise, surprise !!

this is where you come in

you’re the second oldest daughter, fourth child out of six; born to an earl

hwa’s family had the highest title bestowed upon aristocracy

whereas your family accumulated more wealth and land than the park family

and since both you and hwa were prime marrying age™, your parents decided upon a mutually beneficial marriage

the first time you met seonghwa was under the watchful eye of both your parents, when the park’s invited your family for dinner

tbh, you were pretty relieved when you met him

“prime marrying age” was different for men, so you were just glad he wasn’t some old geezer

and he seemed like a decent person !!

a well put together gentleman, and his image was only consolidated throughout dinner

all in all, you didn’t have much to complain about from the initial impression

though it was kinda annoying when your little sister would not shut up about how he was the handsome man she’s ever met

even if you agreed

and didn’t she say that when she met woo?

anyways

after the first meeting with the park’s, both your parents set up multiple occasions for you two to meet

whether that be evening walks, picnics in the park, etc,,,

you learned a great deal about seonghwa 

how his favourite is black, how he loved the stars and that his favourite planet was mars

how he loved kids and doted on your youngest siblings (much to your sister’s glee)

how he enjoyed spending a quiet afternoon with you reading dickens, discussing afterwards the contrast between carton and darnay

how he was always considerate of your feelings and opinions

you liked to think you were a decent judge of character and thought overall that seonghwa was a kind and caring person

but you also noticed a few characteristics that-

you wouldn’t say it was off-putting or anything but,,,

it might bother you in the future

see, you were pretty good friends with hongjoong

and while you weren’t as extreme,

(you didn’t sneak out weekly to hang out with a bar maiden that you definitely did not have a crush on)

you certainly agreed with him on certain points

like hwa, you thought that abiding by certain mannerisms = display of respect

but unlike him, you didn’t care all that much about your image

okay, that was a lie.

you couldn’t say you didn’t care about your image

(social ostracization isn’t exactly fun ya feel)

but you thought it was,,,exhausting

it’s one thing to be respectful, but it’s another thing to say things you don’t mean

to fake humility

to undermine people that are supposed to be your “friends” or “one of you”

to be perfect, when “perfect” was such a subjective term anyways

it just felt so fake and that left a bitter taste in your mouth

even now, you could see all the efforts seonghwa made to constantly keep his image of a “perfect gentleman”

with perfect mannerisms and perfect answers and perfect-

yeah, it kinda frustrated you

not to mention how obedient he was?

of course you didn’t fault him for being a dutiful and filial son, but his loyalty blinded him

and it wasn’t like his parents were bad people !!

no, you’d say they were much kinder than the average noble family

especially considering their status

but when they made important decisions for their son without consulting him,

(because they were more experienced, because they knew better, etc,,,)

and he accepted whatever decision they handed to him?

well,,,

nevertheless, despite being his fiancée, you, by this point, had realistically had known seonghwa for a couple months

and you didn’t feel like it was your place 

(at least not yet)

to point this out

so the two of you continued your cordial but emotionally distant meetings

that is until “the incident” (as hwa fondly likes to call it)

okay, so-

one day you paid hwa a visit and the two of you decided to take a walk in his family’s garden

chattering about this and that

a lovely time !!

it was a bit overcast, but it didn’t look too threatening

so the two of you ignored the clouds looming in the horizon and wandered deep into the garden

big mistake

the weather took a turn for the worst, and soon it was pouring

by this point seonghwa was a little panicked

he knew that for women, getting ready could be excessively long and tenuous task

(courtesy of his little sister’s complaints)

and now !! you were getting rained on !! because he didn’t bring an umbrella !! just in case !!

!!!!

he turns to you, ready to shield you with his jacket and lead you back to the manor

but he’s at a loss by what he sees

he had expected you to be upset, to huddle closer to him, to,,,idk, maybe reprimand him for this thoughtlessness??

but instead, he finds you staring up at the dark sky, eyes shimmering with barely contained glee with the biggest smile he’s ever seen from you adorning your lips

he likes your smile

and if he was already confused (he was), he was about to become even more so

because the next thing he knows, you’re hiking your dress in one hand and grabbing his in the other, running through puddles of water and mud and everything in between, laughter falling from you like the rain

up until this point, you had been acting like the perfect (you hate that word) lady

polite, demure, charming-

in public settings, you only spoke when spoken to, with a voice that was purposely soft and soothing

you chatted with his mother and sisters about traditionally feminine things over tea with impeccable manners

whenever you two met, you were always prim and proper; never a strand of hair out of place

but here you were, getting not only yours but his clothes soggy and muddy, laughing without a care about how pleasant it sounded or how loud it was

seonghwa liked to think he wasn’t a judgemental person-

he wasn’t repulsed or anything by your sudden change in demeanor

just.

really confused

and when you looked back, you could tell,if his expression was anything to go by

but your grin only grew wider, because you could work with this

he wasn’t enjoying himself per say; a bit too confused and bit too stiff to do so

but he wasn’t horrified or disgusted

okay maybe he was a little grossed out; he liked to be clean thank you very much

you could work with this.

and so over the next few months, you showed him things he never dreamed of doing

some of which he liked, some of which he didn’t

some he was willing to try, some, less

like sneaking into the restricted section of the library (he’s never been so scandalized in his life)

or visiting the kitchen in the middle of the night so you could teach him how to make some basic recipes (which he surprisingly enjoyed)

or meeting hongjoong

(“of COURSE it matters if they got the colour wrong?! lord help me you’re the most insufferable person i’ve ever met-”)

and the more the two of you explored, the more he,,,real he became.

and vice versa.

gradually, the mask of perfection he worked so on hard to maintain was slipping before you

don’t get me wrong, he’s still kind and caring and a gentleman

but sometimes he would whine and complain when you encouraged him to do something he was less than enthusiastic about (usually something that involved getting him messy)

or he made The Face™ (the disgusted one) to you and when he didn’t like something or someone

or he would be stupidly stubborn about some random fact that you KNEW was wrong but he just WOULDN’T admit if even when you showed him proof

(“seonghwa for the last time toads don’t give you war-” “LALALA I CAN’T HEAR YOU” “eye-”)

once, he even playfully stole the strawberry from your cake

(big mistake. he’s never doing that again. he never knew a woman could move so fast or be so scary.)

it made you so, so happy because the two of you were finally getting to know each other

actually know each other

then one day, while the two of you were reading underneath a tree at the park

“,,,hey love?” (hwa)

“yes?”

“why are we doing this?” 

“what do you mean, dear?”

“i mean,,,i’m not complaining, but i guess,,,why did you decide to show me this part of you? the part that runs around in the rain?” hwa

you don’t reply right away

instead, you shut your book and idly stared at the willow swaying over the pond, wind running its fingers through its drooping leaves

after a few moments of silence

“,,,i wanted to know you and what you believed in. actually believed in.”

seonghwa tilts his head slightly to the side

“love, i hardly think my convictions have changed”

“but do you know what your convictions are?”

and you know when you hear something that resonates with you?

something that strikes deep in your core and makes you rethink everything you’ve know?

yeah,,,this is one of those moments

now it was seonghwa’s turn to set his book aside, falling deep in thought

after an unnaturally long stretch of silence, you began to panic a little

because ?? maybe you misread the situation and got a little too comfortable-

cause i mean you were questioning his core values, which is something he takes very seriously

o god you messed up didn’t you o crap you need to apolog-

“will you help me figure it out?”

“,,,huh??”

“will you help me figure out my convictions?” he asked

and you swear, you’ve never seen such a smile from seonghwa

one that conveyed a plethora of emotions, ranging from honesty and vulnerability, to confusion and loss, to lightness and warmth

it filled you with an unnameable feeling

like something sliding into place, fitting perfectly; like it was always meant to be there, filling you with comfort

shyly intertwining your hands for the first time, you looked up to meet his gaze with a pattering heart and a smile matching his own

“,,,of course.”

[spencers-renaissance]

a touch that never hurts

Summary: a rewrite of the Tobias Hankel aftermath, in which Spencer gets plenty of cuddles and physical affection from his father figure

Tags: aftermath of torture, hurt/comfort, platonic cuddling, whump, protective hotch, dad hotch, fluff, angst TW: brief mention of the non-con drug use that occurs in the Hankel arc, as well as the physical torture Spencer underwent

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner & Spencer Reid; Platonic

Word Count: 1.7k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

Happy bonus fic Thursday :) I wrote this because I noticed how gentle and kind Hotch always is to the victims he rescues, and I was in the mood for some good, mushy Dad Hotch fluff. Title from Charles Dickens' Hard Times: "Have a heart that never hardens, and a temper that never tires, and a touch that never hurts."

When Spencer Reid falls into Aaron Hotchner’s arms — his feet whipped and bleeding, his veins throbbing with dilaudid, his body bruised and aching — he decides that he never wants to let go.

He’s spent countless hours at the mercy of three different personalities, only one of them even close to resembling something kind, and all he could think while he was tied up in that chair was how much he ached to be held and comforted by the man he trusts most in this world.

So when Hotch saves him — and he does; he sent that message directly to him and it was heard loud and clear — he can’t help that he breaks down, that he cries into his shoulder in front of the entire rescue party, that he falls apart in the most painful way possible, until he’s not sure he can ever be put back together again. But when Hotch speaks soothingly into his ear, caressing his hair with the gentle touch of a father, he thinks that maybe he can be. Maybe he’ll somehow make it out of this in one piece.

He’s driven promptly to the hospital, of course. He’d anticipated an ambulance, but apparently it’s harder than you’d think to get an ambulance to a crime scene at 3am with absolutely no notice in deep, rural Georgia.

Derek drives, eyeing him anxiously in the rearview mirror, and Spencer sits glued to Hotch, refusing to be separated from him for even a second. He considers vaguely that he should probably be embarrassed of that fact, but he can’t find the energy. Not when Hotch is sitting just as closely; seemingly matching his need to be comforted with his own need to protect.

“It’s gonna be okay, Spencer,” Hotch murmurs, a little too quiet for Derek to hear over the noise of the car engine. “I promise.”

Spencer doesn’t say anything. He’s not entirely sure he believes him. Instead, he just burrows closer into Hotch and hides his face from the soft illumination of passing car lights and the sporadic street lights of rural Georgian roads.

He accepts the wheelchair Derek runs in to grab from the hospital because his feet are suddenly screaming in agony. When he’d had to stumble through the graveyard behind Tobias Hankel’s cabin, the adrenaline had prevented him from feeling the true extent of his injuries, but now, with the adrenaline seeping out of him like a river through a broken dam, he can feel every single fractured bone, bruised patch of skin, abused and broken tendon.

Panic immediately arises when he sits down in the chair, though. All of a sudden, he doesn’t have that connection he’s had to Hotch since he was rescued, and he’s almost instantly on the verge of hyperventilation until Hotch crouches down in front of him.

“Hey, Spence,” he says gently, patient and soothing in a way the team doesn’t often get to see. “I’m right here, okay? I’m not going anywhere. How about I hold your hand?”

Spencer nods, and Hotch smiles at him encouragingly before giving the nod for Derek to push the chair towards the Emergency entrance. Hotch’s hand clutches tightly at Spencer’s, and he squeezes his eyes closed against the panic, against the memories, against the fear of what’s to come, and focuses all his energy on the firm, unwavering connection he has to Hotch.

It makes the minutes that it takes them to cross the parking lot bearable, and he’s grateful for that much.

As soon as Hotch explains the situation to the ER doctor that greets them at the door, Spencer is rushed into an examination room.

“I’ll wait outside, Spence,” Derek promises. “I’ll be right here.”

Hotch doesn’t let go of his hand.

They examine his feet first, using a portable x-ray machine to find three broken bones overall. Spencer cries when he hears that. Knowing they’re broken doesn’t change how much they hurt or how scary the situation feels, but it is a tangible acknowledgement of the torture he’s just been put through, and he thinks that that’s probably enough to make most people cry.

“It’s alright, Spencer,” Hotch soothes him, laying his palm on his forehead and smoothing it over his hair gently, slowly. “I’m right here. The doctors are going to help you out.”

“The good news is that most of the fractures are fairly minor,” the doctor explains. “You’ll need a cast for your right foot since the damage to the metatarsal bones is much more significant, but most of the damage overall appears to be torn tendons and bruised muscles, which means plenty of rest and a simple brace or boot on the left foot should do the trick.”

She smiles encouragingly at him, but he barely reacts. He’s so tired. It feels like he’s not even in the room; the only tether to reality being the soothing hand in his hair and the occasional whispers of support.

They treat his feet before sending him off to a CT scanner to check that the rest of his injuries are minor enough to heal on their own, and rule out internal bleeding. Spencer cries the whole twenty two minutes, because this time Hotch can’t hold his hand. He’s stuck watching through the observation window, trying not to cry himself as he listens to Spencer’s sobs over the intercom.

Thankfully, he manages to stay still enough to ensure clear enough images of his body to confirm that rest and pain medication should take care of the rest of his injuries.

A specialist comes round to talk to him about withdrawal. He’s been moved to a room on the assessment ward, which is at least a little more comfortable than the bay in the Emergency Room, but it still feels foreign and frightening, and he’s had quite enough of that in the last few days, thank you very much. At least Derek’s been allowed to join them now. He feels safer with both of them as close to him as humanly possible.

“The good news,” the doctor starts — and God, Spencer wishes they would stop associating any of this with the word ‘good’ — “is that you haven’t taken enough doses to become truly dependent on the drug, which should make your withdrawal easier. I’m prescribing buprenorphine, clonidine, acetaminophen, and ondansetron, which when combined, should make your symptoms significantly more bearable. We do advise that you stay with somebody—”

“He’ll be staying with me,” Hotch interrupts firmly, both of his hands clasped warmly around Spencer’s as he eyes the doctor with an unwavering gaze.

“Well, that’s perfect, then,” the doctor says cheerily. It feels grossly misplaced. “You’ll need to prepare for the coming symptoms and ensure that he has no way to get his hands on more dilaudid.”

Spencer resents the doctor for saying that. He has no desire to inject more of that poison into his veins: it might have been a pleasant distraction when he was being whipped and beaten and forced to choose someone to die, but now that he’s back with his family, now that he’s safe, the last thing he wants is to keep reminding himself of that god-awful man in that god-awful cabin.

He doesn’t say anything, though. He just closes his eyes to try and smother the turbulent emotions threatening to show on his face.

“That won’t be a problem,” Hotch confirms.

They wait for an hour in relative silence, Spencer enjoying the solace of a safe, quiet room with the people he considers protectors both holding his hands and soothing him when panic threatens to overwhelm him, before the discharge doctor comes round. She checks him over one last time, before helping him into a wheelchair, handing him his medication, and wheeling him towards the entrance.

Derek goes ahead once they reach the airstrip where everybody’s been waiting to go home and herds them onto the jet first to give Spencer some privacy going up the stairs.

“Are you okay for me to carry you?” Hotch asks as he climbs out of the car first, speaking gently as he has done since he rescued him.

Spencer nods. Of course he is. It means he’s even closer to Hotch.

Hotch carries him the short distance between the parked jeep and the jet before ascending the stairs as carefully as possible, making sure Spencer’s feet don’t so much as brush the railing. He sets him down on the sofa, but Spencer clings to his hand, looking at him desperately as he tries to get him to understand what he needs. Thankfully, he’s obvious enough that Hotch simply smiles and sits down on the sofa with him.

They get settled in a horizontal position, Spencer resting his head on Hotch’s chest as he revels in the feeling of safety that having both of his arms wrapped around him provides. A gentle hand finds its way to Spencer’s hair again, and he closes his eyes against the relaxing feeling, exhaustion finally catching up to him.

He vaguely hears some quiet laughter in the background, and he’s been with the team long enough to predict the raised eyebrows and teasing expressions on their faces.

“You’ve gone soft,” Derek accuses warmly, making sure to keep his voice down, and the others chuckle in agreement.

“Wait until Penelope hears about this,” JJ teases quietly.

Hotch laughs, and Spencer feels the pleasant vibrations against his cheek. It makes him feel even warmer inside than he did before. “You wouldn’t dare.” Spencer imagines the smile on his face and burrows closer to him.

“It’s a good thing, Hotch,” Emily chimes in, her voice bright and easy. Spencer really likes her. “It’s nice to see this side of you.”

“Well, you’d better savour the moment because it won’t happen again.”

He must feel Spencer’s panicked tensing, the way his muscles go rigid and his breath hitches, because he rushes to add, “unless Spencer needs it of course.” His hands resume their gentle caresses of his back.

“I’d do anything if Spencer needed it,” he murmurs, and the team might hear, but the words aren’t for them.

Spencer hears them loud and clear, and somehow — when he thought only hours ago that he might never be put back together — he falls asleep feeling calm and safe, with a small, hopeful little smile on his face.

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @negativefouriq @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @hotchseyebrows @temily @enbyspencer @reidology @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @tobias-hankel @hotchscotchh @oliverbrnch @physics-magic @sbeno22 @im-autistic @anxious-enby @kuolonsyoja @reidreids @cmily @notevanbuckley (add yourself to my taglist here!)

[catxsnow]

IMPERFECT MORNINGS J.T.

 Request: delivering on the more jason todd requests!! where it's the morning after and they're both in each other's arms and enjoying this moment of peace together and they're both so happy and domestic, then the moods broken by one of the batboys barging in and ruining the mood in a funny aww we ❤️ inlaws type a way.

Warning: fluff

A/N: Done my last exam for the Summer! now it’s vacation time :)

Mood board

Word count: 1.5k

Jason Todd was always filled with surprises.

When you first met him, you thought him to be some hardass player who didn't care. The more that you got to know him, the more you realized he wasn't like that at all. Jason was extremely thoughtful and caring, he enjoyed the small moments in life and he certainly wasn't the asshole you thought him to be.

Jason loved literature. He loved reading the classics like Dickens and he was always quick to give him opinion about the books. Art work was always hung up on his walls, different styles that you would have never expected him to like. Jason loved to cook for you and be romantic on evenings alone.

He was nothing like you expected.

Jason had a warm heart and and bright smile - when he decide to show it. You were the one that saw it the most. He rarely ever showed anything aside from a scowl with his family. Even with Roy and Kori he didn't particularly show it off. You were the exception that got see his soft side, and you loved it.

Early weekend mornings were the times you got to see him most relaxed. Jason would sprawl out in your bed, thinking to himself, reading a book, or watching whatever shitty television show was on. It was his time to collect himself from his crazy life, and he was always happy to have you by his side.

That morning, he picked up a book that hadn't been read in weeks, and continued with it. He sat up right, the hem of the blanket just barely covering his naked bottom half. You laid on your side, watching him with the utmost admiration as his eyes glazed over every word.

"You're so handsome," you suddenly spoke. Jason gained an amused smirk before he set his book down on his nightstand. He slid down his pillow until he was finally laying level with you. "You didn't have to stop reading, I just wanted to tell you that."

"When my beautiful, naked, partner, tells me I'm handsome, I'm not gonna ignore them," Jason informed. Your noses were only inches apart and you could feel the warmth of his breath against your cheeks. He reached out and pushed the loose hairs away from your face and kept his palm against your cheek. "I love you."

"I love you, more, Jay," You told him. Jason leaned enough just enough to peck your lips. He wanted these moments to last centuries. He was tired of having to fight for them, they shouldn't have to be a luxury for either of you. It isn't fair to withhold mundane things like laying in bed, but that's just his life. You knew what you were signing up for.

Jason was the most important person in your life. He had gotten you through so many tough times in your life. Red Hood might have been some what of a nuisance to the city, but he was your own personal hero. No matter the kind of trouble you were in, he was always going to be there to save you.

"What are you making me for breakfast?" You ask. The corners of your lips turned up at his faux shocked reaction. Jason always made you breakfast, and yet he always liked to joke that it was your turn this time. He never let you have your turn, no way was he going to let you stop him from spoiling you.

Jason didn't answer your question, but instead, tackled you into a hug. He warped his whole body around you so your face was against his chest and his arms wrapped around you. If you were safe in his arms, then he never had anything to worry about. Keep you safe was always his priority.

You wanted to ask when he was leaving again. Time with Jason always seemed short lasted. You never got enough of him, but you knew that he had his own responsibilities that he had to maintain. You decided against the idea, there was no point in spoiling your time with him now.

"You're the most perfect person I could ever imagine," Jason kissed the top of your head. You squeezed him a little tighter in response. "I can't imagine my life without you."

"Mmm, I love when you're in a sappy mood like this," you teased. Jason let you out of his hold so you could be eye level with him once more. He had a ridiculously happy smile on his face that wouldn't go away while looking at you - which only proved your point even more. "Makes me feel all special inside."

"I thought I made you feel pretty special last night," Jason retaliated. He dragged his hand down the side of your body until landing just barely on your ass. You rolled your eyes at him, but didn't disagree. “Every think about what life would be like if I gave up being the Red Hood?” 

“Every day,” you admitted. It was hard seeing him run off to some sort of battle and unsure if he was going to make it back. As much as you loved him, you wanted stability. “But it’s something that I would never ask of you. Saving people means to much to you, I know that.” 

“One day,” Jason began. He paused to kiss your lips, lingering there for not long enough. He glanced up from your pleading lips to your eyes that held so much adoration for him. Adoration that he sometimes didn’t believe he deserved. “One day, having a family with you is going to mean more than anything.” 

“I look forward to that day, my love,” You smiled. Jason kissed you once more, pulling you closer, twinging your legs together. It was true, having a family with you was what drove him to be better every day. It was what drove him to get home every night. 

Being with you, it was more love than he could ever ask for. 

"Todd. (L/N)."

You nearly jumped at the sound of Damian's voice. He was standing in the door way of your room with his arms crossed over his chest. He didn't look pleased to there, nor the fact that both of you were naked still, even with the sheets covering you. Jason flipped around to face the door, and who was intruding on his time alone with you.

Damian was dressed in his civilian clothes and with his hair slicked back like this father. Bruce was always difficult to get along with, Jason's opinions on the man weighed to heavily for you. Damian, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy your presence quite a lot.

"How the fuck did you get in?" Jason asked. He made sure that security in your home was top of the notch, there was no way he was going to let something happen to you when he was gone. Jason looked between Damian and you, then proceeded to pull the blankets up higher on you.

"I gave him a key," You sighed, regretting your decision. Jason gave you a questioning look. "He broke my door! Twice! I was tired of having to pay for new ones."

"Why are you here, twerp," Jason reluctantly asked. The last thing he wanted was his morning with you to be ruined with the likes of his family. Especially Damian. Under the blanket, you grabbed his hand, hoping that he wouldn't do anything rash against the younger boy. You knew how irritating Damian could get.

"You're not answering your phone, any of them," Damian scoffed. He took another step into the room until noticing the clothes thrown on the floor. It took him a second to realize that both of you were in fact naked. Damian made a face and stepped back to his original place. "Father needs you."

"Yeah, well, I'm busy," Jason snapped.

"And I don't care," Damian narrowed his eyes. "Get up."

Damian slammed your bedroom door shut as he left your room. You and Jason both plopped back against your pillows. Jason rubbed a hand down his face in frustration. If Bruce was asking for his help, then it was obviously important. He never called otherwise.

Before Jason could even think about getting up, you hooked your leg over his and cuddled into his chest. He leaned down just enough to kiss you once more, prolonging it for as long as he possibly could. He didn't want to get up just to leave you, he does that enough as it is, this was supposed to be your time.

"I hate him," Jason muttered between several more kisses. Your hand resting on his chest glided up to his face, tracing the small scars that hadn't fully healed. Upon reaching one of the older, more emotional ones, he grabbed your hand and placed it flat against his cheek. "Forgive me? For leaving?"

"Always."

[batarella]

3 birds 1 stone - RED

Never has he smiled for so many days, happiness without condition, love so pure, a life that no longer was filled of days he’d have to survive, and was now a life he wanted remember, love, and live.

WORDS: 7791 WARNINGS: Sexual Content, Mentions of Trauma

MASTERLIST | 3 BIRDS 1 STONE MASTERLIST | BLUE | YELLOW

-----

“I loved her against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be.”

-          Great Expectations, Charles Dickens

You:

“Y/N?”

On peaceful days should there be chaos to be expected. With peace does not come promise. A flower with blooming red petals would eventually wilt, despite all else telling it not to. That same blooming flower would die the same from other natural, unnatural causes, like a wind too strong for it to hold onto its stem or a butterfly that came too late for its pollen.

But when peace was current, something you could see right before you knowing it wasn’t to last, it wasn’t much because of the artist you were why you’d resort to capturing that peace onto your canvas and make it last forever.

Two artists, that was. Someone joined you in your endeavor that day. Not so much of a student as he were a companion. An equal, perhaps.

Damian didn’t let his squinting eyes from where he placed the tiniest round brush on, the fabric that turned blue at his touch. You merely hummed at his call of your name and didn’t look to him as well.

“May I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

Two easels set up at the manor’s back porch angled just right for most of the city skyline to be seen. It was far too small to be the focus, but everything else, the valleys that surrounded it, the actual forests going against the concrete ones, if you managed to get it right, you might want to keep this one for yourself.

Your thoughts complete left all that matter, however, when Damian asked you, “It’s a question about sex. More than one actually.”

“Oh.”

Not what you thought.

You might have had a lymph node in your neck, but still you nodded.

“Alright then. What do you want to know?”

He was painting the clouds. Didn’t even look the slightest bit uncomfortable. Good, you guessed.

“How old am I supposed to be before having it?”

Some wordless mutter rolled out your tongue at that. Eventually, the answer just came right out of you.

“Other than being of age, it really depends if you’re emotionally ready for it, Damian. If you know you’re not ready, nothing should push you to do it.”

“How do I know when I’m ready?”

That same calmness, the one that steadied your often shaking hands, allowed you to create the perfect cone for one of the hilltops at the horizon. You marveled over it for a while.

“When your doubts are encompassed with everything else,” you said. “When you know about what comes after.”

A dimming yellow sun, over at the far end. It was that sun, you told yourself, that was making those words fall of your lips. And not at all this series of resurfacing memories.

“When you meet the right person,” you told him.

You saw from your side eye how that remark made Damian stop with his brush. He set it onto its holder, placed his hands on his knees. “Other people don’t wait for that last one,” he said. “Do they?”

“It’s always different for a lot of people. Sometimes, they could only ever do it with people they love. Sometimes, it doesn’t even matter.”

“When I have sex with someo-“

You gave him a dirty look.

“When I’m a lot older,” he scoffed. “And I want to engage in the act of coitus.”

“Coitus?”

“How do I know they’re right? They’re the right person at that moment, then suddenly the next, they’re not.”

You reached over his easel to grab his brush, handing it back as you pointed at a raven that landed on one of the trees. It urged him to continue.

“You ask yourself then. If things won’t go the way you’d have wanted with that someone, would you regret ever doing it with them at all?”

“Obviously,” he snorted. “I wouldn’t want to waste my time.”

A bright smile, just as you settled the green of the wilting grass. Not so much was it green as it were this brownish orange, with it still cold enough for you to wear a sweater this uncomfortable when you’d have wanted your hands free.

“Is it really this…” he did some kind of motion with his hands. “…milestone in your life that’s supposed to be so important?”

“Wow, you’re really asking the right questions here, kid.”

That nickname made him snarl, back to his canvas. It took you a while, having to look to the sky for some kind of answer that wasn’t going to mess his head for the rest of his life.

“I used to think it wasn’t,” you said. “Sometimes, it’s only as important as you make it. It’s all up to what you believe.”

You turned your brush over just the right circle, which made of the red petals of a rose on one of the bushes that first greeted the day after months of a long winter.

Then there was this sinking. Something within.

“But your first time, at least. It should be with someone you love,” you said. “You’ll find that a lot of things will be easier for you.”

He seemed satisfied with that. Thankfully. He didn’t look so traumatized just yet.

Then he asked you one that no longer was so easy to think about.

“Was your first time with someone you loved?”

And you thought, with how everything suddenly weighed, not just your head or your hands but the whirring air, the leaves that danced along to it, the flowers still so young into their bloom, the misty clouds, the light, the brush on your hand and the paint on its tip.

What wasn’t so heavy, that is, was your voice.

Because if anything surprised you that day, more than the questions and the apparent peace, was how easily the answer came out of you.

Easy, because it was true.

And it was true, because when you lied, your clammy hands would be stuck to your back, shaking just as much as your eyes would be frantic and searching for something that wasn’t there.  

But your voice was as light as your hands were calm and dry, your eyes fixated on the beautiful sight of the city and nothing else.

“Yes,” you said. And with it, came a smile that lasted for days.

.

Jason:

Two thousand dollars sounded a lot more inviting after a failed drug raid, not so much after the seeing all the evening gowns and diamonds and Bruce using his almighty charm with investors in sharp-needled stilettoes.

He did not, for his own sanity’s sake, want to sit through any of it, not even for a whole inheritance from the enterprise. Nope. Not even ten million dollars was worth putting on this god-awful suit poking through his neck like a knife, a jacket supposed to fit but had popped off one of the buttons, and of course, his hair. Swept back. Ruled over by mounds of gel and whatever it was the rest of his brothers had on. They all looked like elves in a Christmas workshop assembly line with the red tie over his chest.

Whatever trouble would happen, they’d call him. Now that they’ve blocked off his room, however, he came to not much resort.

The manor’s pool, to his luck, was unguarded. Unused for the last few months, but still clean.

Whatever silence was, and whatever silence could be, it was just that when he shut the door behind him, not bothering to latch on the lock, and turned on one of the lights, the purple and blue ones that shone from underneath the pool’s floor, like some magical lake that would speak to him in rhymes, maybe hand him a sword floating on a lily pad, but not even that was enough to impress him. As if anything impresses him still.

He stood by the poolside, hands in his suit pockets. Audibly he cursed that he forgot to bring a cigarette pack, but even that thought didn’t last long enough to bother him too much.

Jason stood there, right by the water, and watched the lights change like they told much of a story.

Something. Anything, to intrigue him.

Anything to make him feel again, to interest him, to cry out to him and actually hold his attention long enough for it to not be whisked away from his mind by his own hands because thinking or feeling was too much work.

But even those very lights, that didn’t seem so bright at all, were silent. The same silence for so many months.

He wanted noise. He wanted to hear again. But nothing, nothing was loud enough for him anymore. Someone could be screaming into his head and so much of it would disperse before it even reaches his ears at all, much less his brain. It wasn’t that he was being dumb, though that would be quite the reason.

But it was that nothing was bright enough anymore.

No one was attractive, or intriguing, or entertaining. Not by a mile.

Nothing. He cared about nothing.

Everything, all except her.

And it had to be just that, no room so bright, no smile so true, then when it was with her.

He hated the truth, perhaps just as much as he hated the rest of the world. The only thing he didn’t hate was someone he couldn’t even be with, much less love. But here he was.

Some noise from the door he came in from. He should have locked it. Now someone else was here.

More so did he wish that when he turned and saw who it was.

“Here?” Y/N’s shoes against the empty ground. That, he heard. Fuck him. “Really?”

“They closed off my room.”

She looked really pretty, lipstick on her already red lips, jumpsuit dragging along the tiles and her hair down her back. And she didn’t stop walking until she was right by his side, much to his dismay. Still, he didn’t move. Though god forbid he allow himself another look after the first one.

“You’re just gonna stand here and stare at the water?”

“Better than that shitshow outside.”

“Every party’s a shitshow for you.”

“Finally, one of you caught on.” He shifted his arms as if he had a drink he was holding, which he didn’t. He needed one badly.

“Then why accept the job?” she shrugged. “You could have just said no.”

He didn’t expect her to look at the water like it were at all interesting.

But suddenly, the lights from underneath didn’t seem so dull anymore.

Because even having to swim through the lavas of literal hell, I’d leave the comforts of isolation if it means you’d be anywhere within the room.

“Two thousand dollars,” he said.

“Ah.”

Everything did get easier to understand, once he stopped with the moping and the denial and actually allowed that stupid little voice he hated to speak up loud enough so he’d listen to it.

“Maybe you’re right,” she laughed. “The water actually is a lot more interesting.”

Right then, he allowed himself a second, subtle look. At her face. The thin straps over her shoulders that laid so well against her skin. Her hair she’d purposely made unruly but still styled enough to be classy.

The next thing to notice were her hands. They weren’t shaking, though they weren’t unmoving either. Her thumbs were rubbing over the backs of her palms, much like fidgeting her fingers would as if she were nervous. But there shouldn’t be anything to be nervous about. Nothing he could see, at that.

But after a look at her hands, it was her eyes that told him the whole story of her trailing thoughts, thoughts that maybe she didn’t know about as well.

Three years since she’s last stepped into a pool, since she’s felt that much water around her, dance along every bit of her skin when she’d push through the waves and move about as if she were floating, or flying, suspended from the ground and not have a string to hold her up.

She wanted to. He could see that. But it was doubtful that she’d admit to that. She’d never admit to that, not when it would only cause so much disappointment when she’ll ultimately cower away.

But her wanting to swim made him want to swim.

Some first step. To have someone to help her. He could be that someone.

Not even thinking for himself anymore. Jason was off to the benches at the side, and had taken off his tie and slid it off his neck.

“What are you doing?” she asked, just as he took off his suit jacket.

“I’m going in.”

She looked at him like she would to a troll that had climbed out of the sewers, though it wasn’t much out of disgust as it would be of disbelief. At least, he hoped it was. That wasn’t even to matter. He’d taken off his dress shirt before he even realized what he was doing at all.

Not something he’d do so suddenly, but then again, some of the most stupid things he’s ever done the past year were all for her sake. This didn’t surprise him at the least, not even the fact that the more rational part of him was watching him move like some hamster in a wheel stupidly trying to run away.

“You’re gonna swim?”

He unbuckled his belt. “Mind turning around?”

Her eyes flashed wide open, and she did as told.

Jason took off his pants, his shoes, everything save for his boxers. This wasn’t so stupid. It shouldn’t be.

He stepped into the pool, one foot first, then he slid in. He wanted to feel the cold. He wanted it to go against his heat and make him feel something and actually overwhelm him. And it was just that, that very feeling he’d long craved, when he spread his arms and let the water seep into his flesh.

Then he found himself smiling, just as he looked up and caught Y/N watching him do all that, lips between her teeth and beaming back so wonderfully bright, every part of him ached for that sight to last so much longer.

He sat back, waved through the water, inviting her even when he wasn’t asking her, telling her that this is all okay, that she was ready.

A million voices were screaming at him that none of this added up to just about every thought he could muster, that it wasn’t in him to just jump into the water, half naked and alone with the woman he loved. So many asking him what the hell he was doing, that all this was going to scare her away.

But it was, in fact, in him to know what went on in her head, as she longingly looked at the pool like it were so much more than that. It was in him to know that there’s so many more steps in this staircase of healing, to being that very person she’d sought out to be, away from the incident, who she no longer was, and never has been.

Jason swam over to the side of the pool, at the side where she stood.

And with that, a smile so beautiful, she crouched over and set her legs to the side so she could sit on the ground. Her hand was too near from where he laid his arms, but he didn’t reach for it. He just watched as the droplets that fell from his skin onto the ground nipped at her fingers.

“Is it cold?”

His voice was low and husky. “Yeah…”

“Is it nice?”

Jason looked to the wall behind her and laughed. “The water’s great.”

She hummed.

Her hands. Something about them. He couldn’t look away. Like they were so much more than her soft fingers and her gentle touch. With his chin buried onto his folded arms, he kept looking.

Not from her hands that were reluctantly reaching for the water’s surface, shy, bashful even, like it would sting her if she inched too close. Y/N stretched out her fingers and touched it, enough to drench just the tip of it, then she twirled it about to create wonderful ripples that waved to his body.

Jason reached over to hold her wrist, stopped just in case she were to pull away, but she didn’t pull away.

Y/N’s eyes were on him, just as silent and curious, and he felt her relax.

He led her hand further into the water, deeper, colder. He felt the hair on her skin stand, bumps over her pores. She was breathless, over something so small. He pulled gently enough until the water reached up to her elbow.

Then the smile he earned out of her, the love he so wanted to earn as well, it was all he could see, with her toying with the water and swerving it about. Right then, he could hear everything. The droplets that danced, the splashes against their skin, her subtle laughter, her teeth over her lips. He heard it all, and it was beautiful, so much more than songs or tunes played by the most skilled hands over piano keys.

If he could just let himself watch her, for longer than he hoped, he’d fall deeper in love than the depths he’d already fallen into, and had tried, relentlessly, to escape from, but couldn’t. Denial didn’t help much, but neither did admittance. He was stuck. And if only things weren’t so hard, he wouldn’t dare complain. Not when that very woman he loved was this beautiful.

She drew her hand away, her other one soothing the damp skin and ruining her jumpsuit with the water, which she didn’t even care about.

He wasn’t even thinking anymore. His heart open and his mind shut off. From how she sat, her ankle was exposed, and it was close enough to the water to feel the splatters but not enough to get wet.

Still, without a word, Jason cupped his hand, drew a bit of water up to the surface.

Then he played those drops right onto her skin, close to her feet where her shoes were strapped around. She clenched her toes at the cold, but she seemed to have liked it. He did it again, the droplets falling from his fingers, until her skin was stiff from the air so cold with it drenched.

That’s when she sighed, went on to stare at the little waves he’d created.

“I want to go in.”

He backed away from the pool side, waved his arms about to show her further that it was safe, and wonderful. Then he nodded at her. “If you think you’re ready…”

He saw her throat hitch, but it wasn’t out of doubt.

“I’m ready.”

He didn’t even have to try so hard to show her that everything she was going through, right then, he knew every second of what it was like. His face was soft, his look on her was soft, every bit of him had to be soft for this to be easy on her.

Then things weren’t so soft anymore when she started pulling down her straps from her shoulders. He gulped.

“Could you uh,” she twirled her finger around, motioning that he turn the other way. He did.

It was, both to his fortune and of not, that the wall in front of him was a mirror, reflecting all that went on behind his back. Everything in him stopped, even the blood down his every vein, and with that he watched as she exposed her temple of a body, one he’d worshipped and cherished and made feel every ounce of a sensation there could be, and continue to dream about even with her no longer being there.

But she was here now.

.

You:

The hardest to take off weren’t the straps on your shoes.

But all you ever had to know, was that the one you were with, the one you were hopelessly in love with, was there to help you through all of this.

“Do you, uh,” Jason coughed. “Need some help with that?”

You knew he was watching. If you actually didn’t want him to watch, you would have gone to the other side of the pool and took off your clothes where there wasn’t a mirror in front.

“Yeah,” you said.

As his eyes laid on you, relaxed, calm, just as you remembered he once watched your body so bare, with just a strapless bra over your chest and seamless panties, what contrasted the very cold that stemmed from the water was the burn underneath your flesh, the burn in your chest, the burn on your face and every nerve ending there was. Every nerve ending.

Suddenly you were limbless when he swam over to you, right in front from where you sat at the poolside, and his fingers were on the skin of your thighs, both of them. The water from his skin, falling and absorbing into your own. A sensation in itself.

You unlatched your leg, and he pulled it off and set it to your side.

Now, you were bare.

Jason was looking up at your eyes, however, and not at anything else. Not at the parts so incomplete. Not on places so ugly. As if you were so beautiful. And from that look alone, you started to believe that you were.

One at a time.

With his hands held out, you let him take your right leg, the one covered in burns and healed stitches, but still with toes and skin at all, and carefully, laid it into the water.

It was cold. Colder than even ice. But god, was it so heavenly.

Now, the other.

Jason, from what you could tell, tried not to look nervous just as you were, but you both smiled, and that was all there is to it to make you step into that very threshold once so frightening.

Your left leg, ending just three inches below your knee, dipped into the water’s surface.

You were here.

You were free.

You could feel the cold, the water, the waves, and the rush up to your head.

“Take your time,” Jason breathed, and his voice was all the more wonderful with everything else you could feel.

Any more, and the tears might start to defy your efforts.

He was as gentle as you knew him to be, and with that, it urged you on. You wanted to be the freest version of yourself. You wanted to be in the water with him, and hold him.

“Jason-“

“I’m here.”

You slid off the poolside, and he was there to hold you up before you could even think to move. His warm hands were so different from how cold the water was, but as equally burning as the heat that spurred everywhere else. They held your waist, and you did not want them to move away at all.

“It’s okay,” he said, with his grip still strong. “I’ll let go only if you tell me to.”

So you didn’t tell him to.

Your hands, already they found their ways resting on top of his shoulders, holding onto him a lot firmer than you actually needed to. Your right leg touched the floor. Your left one waved about in the water. You looked down. They were there. They were alright. They didn’t sting, nor hurt, nor did you feel so exposed that you’d never want to step into any light again.

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” you frantically nodded, still looking down at the prettiest lights that shone beneath you and Jason’s feet.

You were laughing. “This is so great…”

“It is…”

With you so distracted marveling over the water, he thought you wouldn’t notice if his hands rubbed over your waist, circled them tighter, enough for his fingers to rest delicately on your spine. He was holding you so tenderly, yet you could feel how much he was holding back. And you just went on pretending not to notice.

“I want to go there.”

You pointed at the middle of the pool, where the lights were centered on, littered about to form this spiral that stretched out like a firework that burst into the sky.

“Alright,” said Jason. “Hold on, okay?”

You nodded, and again that wonderful sensory outburst that were supposed to overwhelm you, but didn’t, when Jason led you both to the center of the pool, the waves flowing against your flesh and skin. Oh, was it so beautiful. The water, touching your every bit, it was so much more than you remembered, and so much better than you’d have imagined.

As you reached that very center, and with you having to take in both the feel of this flight, the breath that had escaped you, the lights, ones you had to watch from afar, were now beneath and around you, like you stood right in the core of a star that exploded, a supernova, right at the flares and the burst of light and sound, just as it was on your flesh.

You were swimming on stars, on clouds, on a bed of petals so sweet. You were afloat in this wonderous space, the sun so close but not burning you with its light. There were tears. Wonderous tears. Ones you couldn’t hold back with your heart in full and your chest in this tug that pulled it in all directions. You splayed your arms out, and tilted your head back, enough for your hair to be dipped into the water. And you closed your eyes. Everything. Everything. This was everything.

You looked back up, and no one, not even the moon itself in the midst of a dark sky, had ever looked at you the way Jason did.

Oh god, how you loved him.

Then that music, one that was playing so sweetly the moment you stepped in, it blurred out when you circled your arms around his strong neck.

He kept with his promise and went on to keep holding you so close, closer, until your chest met his so solid, all the cold from the once freezing water was whisked away.

Fingers tangled onto his hair, breaths battling as they met in the space in between, a space that shouldn’t have been there at all. His own hands trailed down to your hips, further down until it made you jolt.

Then your legs were around him. You were flying, so high up in the sky not even the clouds would reach you.

He pushed back your hair.

You didn’t know at what point your lips had met, your warmth uniting into one, single flame, but everything was so much of the speed of a moving picture, that none of time, nothing of the sort that wasn’t him and him alone, ever even mattered anymore.

.

Jason:

What was it called, when something unfolded before you, and everything happened so fast even when you’d try to make it slow, flashed into this bright, white light, and suddenly you couldn’t move, nor say anything to protest?

That wasn’t even much to think about anymore.

Everything was paced, so slow, slow enough that he could feel every movement she made, every flick of her fingers, every sound that escaped her lips. It heightened to so much more than it actually was. Those months, where he no longer felt even just a splinter, now all those feelings collapsed into the now.

He was kissing the world, his world, and so much of her beauty manifested into this glorious flow. He was hungry, digging into her skin as if there were more to be undone. His lips were no different. Over her lips, her jaw, her neck, licking over her shoulder and back over to her lips where she tasted the sweetest.

She did not hold back either, and he didn’t want her to. She pulled on his hair enough to make it hurt and so perfect was that pain, the growl that came out of him so animalistic, even more so did he starve. Starve for her. He wanted to taste every bit of her.

And so he did, pushing her to the edge of the pool and turning her around so no longer could anything restrict his shaking touch, on every part of her that would spark a fire engulf larger than the one within his chest. He pushed himself inside her, over and over until it hurt.

He couldn’t hold back, couldn’t hide behind this mask of gentleness any longer. For that same gentleness and touches so soft, only could be when his efforts to conceal what his desires truly manifested into, and it comes with deep want, so much lust, fire that burns, skin being drawn in red by the hungriest nails and teeth that dug into flesh. His hips started to hurt, so did his hands. It was starting to hurt her, too, with there being marks on just about every sweet spot there was. But it was just those marks that pushed them both further into fulfillment.

His name, Jason, the most beautiful thing to ever escape her lips, his hands holding her still, holding her neck and squeezing just enough to let her know that only he could ever give her that perfect mix of pain and gratification so immense, that only he could touch her and make it last, and for the whole of the night, his name was the only thing she could ever cry out.

.

You:

Oh.

Oh, was it all so wonderful.

The strain, the pull of every muscle, the purple marks on your neck, the bruises on your hips, the aches down your cunt, and every bit inside you, still with the many releases, bursts of avalanches and numbs that faltered into lingering buzzes, and eventually this humming that continued like some song you couldn’t remember. Wonderful. Magical. Even if you could think straight, which you couldn’t do much with what happened, you couldn’t describe it with enough justice.

You’ve never slept so well in so long, your head up far beyond the clouds, into space and the stars above, the gas giants that make you even lighter. With not even gravity to pull you down, you were soaring up above.

In some idealistic perfection, a world without the cruelties you knew all too well, it would be that you’d wake up, satisfied at that, to a bed that wasn’t empty, next to a man you loved whose body was filled with the deepest scars, and that would have been the end to the story and all else, the chaos most especially, would cease.

But as it were as cruel as it were kind enough to grant you that moment of bliss, you woke up, still with the sky so dark, and your arm outstretched for a naked body no longer there, but instead you found that very body already with his clothes on, moving as quiet as he possibly could outside the bed.

“Jason?” you sighed, then you sat up holding the thin sheet up to your chest.

Jason was startled. Wasn’t expecting to wake you. Or that, he was trying not to.

“Why are you up?” he asked. He was in a hurry.

And his face, from what you could read, it told you everything you needed to know.

“Are you leaving?”

Again? You wanted to say.

But even if you did, his response wouldn’t have changed. For the better, that is. Because he didn’t have much a response at all.

“Go back to bed.”

“What’s going on-“

“I’m sorry.”

He zipped up his pants, put on his jacket and just like that he was headed for the door.

His face was too grim and blank for him to leave with intention to come back. His hands were too fast reaching for the door. His voice, too low as if he were hiding something from eventually spilling. No. He was leaving. And he wouldn’t want to be found. Not after that look he just gave you before he opened the door.

You took all the sheets and reached for his shoulder. Already, you were shattered. Already, the weight had befallen, on your arms and your chest. He was so stiff that even to just turn, it was hard for him to do.

But you held his face, really held him so he wouldn’t dare pull away. The air had been sucked out of that very room and so much of your body would have broken apart, fallen to the ground and no one would be there to pick them up.

“You don’t have to leave,” you whispered, pushing your forehead against his so your breaths would meet again. “Please, be with me-“

“Y/N -“

“What did I do?” You met his eyes.

“Nothing. Please. We’ll talk about this later-“

“When?”

He sounded so solid, so unaccepting of anything to be hurled at him.

“I have to go-“

“You’re not coming back, are you?“

“I said we’ll talk about this.”

“Don’t walk away from me-“

He didn’t even let you finish.

He was strong, and he never used that against you. But that time, he did. He grabbed you by the wrists and pulled you off him. In less time than you would have hoped, he was gone.

The man you wanted. The one you loved. The one you chose.

Wouldn’t choose you.

Another of the hurt, that descent, when you’ve slipped into this hole so familiar yet the pain wasn’t something to get used to. Tears on the sheets, broken, so many of them spilling out of you and onto the floor, your skin, the bed.

You can’t shatter again. You can’t break any more.

This was the choice you made. No one told you it was all going to be easy. That all this would be handed over just as you called the moment you wanted it. No. Not with him.

Go after him.

Tell him everything.

Go after him.

You grabbed everything you got, put on your clothes and rushed out that door before you were even fully awake enough for your eyes to adjust to the light. Straight down the stairs, out into the garage where you knew Jason parked his bike. He wasn’t there. He already left.

So you took one of the keys that were hung on the wall, started up one of Bruce’s many cars and drove out of that manor.

You weren’t going to let go. You’d chase him if you had to.

You knew this would happen, the moment you realized you loved this asshole. You saw this coming. And you were prepared.

You were as fast as if you flew, if you were no heavier than a speck, a particle that would let even the flap of a butterfly’s wings change its course and move so fast, no one would have seen it.

You called him. As you drove and reached the city, you did not stop calling. Five. Six. Ten times. He didn’t answer.

Once you reached his apartment, seeing that his bike wasn’t where he’d parked it, you called again.

At the fifteenth call, he picked up.

“Jason, for the love of god-“

Your hands were shaking as it held the wheel, and nothing, not even the rain pattering onto the windshield would have calmed you. Everything happened just as fast as the rest of the night went on. And here you were, at the end, and you tripped just as you saw that very end of the dark tunnel.

“Y/N…” he said. And his voice a lot softer than it had been just then.

“Please, just talk to me.”

“We’ll talk. I promise you, we will-“

“I want to talk to you now-“

“You think you know what you want,” he said. “But you don’t. Give it time. You’ll change your mind.”

You slammed your fists against the wheel and the horn blew under the impact.

“You said you’d never make decisions for me-“

“If this is your decision, you need me to make it for you.”

So close. So close to driving away and leave him for the rest of forever.

But it wasn’t close enough.

You turned to the screen right by the car’s dashboard, pressed onto the button to turn on Bruce’s many trackers. There was a red dot.

‘No,’ you whispered. ‘No, you won’t.’

.

Jason:

“I’m sorry…” he pleaded. “I’m so sorry… but I promise you. Everything will get better.”

Up a rooftop, where he thought she’d never find him. It was hard to ignore the quake in his voice, his hands, how every word he spoke was like driving a knife down his throat, neck, and chest.

“No,” she screamed, and her cries hurt more than that very knife ever would. “It won’t. You’re a coward. What are you gonna do? Leave for another four months?”

“That’s not true.”

“Tell me it is!”

“Y/N.”

He let the skyline distract him, the buildings that soared up, higher than he could ever stand, then locked his eyes onto one of them so they wouldn’t defy him and break apart.

“Whatever it is you think is going on, it isn’t. I already told you how I felt. Why didn’t you just lis-“

Of course, she’d find him.

To be frank, even if it were one of the other safe houses he’s picked that wasn’t on any map of the city, she was bound to find him. He left her at Wayne Manor, for fuck’s sake.

The minute he heard her footsteps, coming in from entryway, he stopped talking, breathing even, and put his phone down. Trackers. Of course. Bruce had five of them on him at least.

He turned around.

“You actually fucking followed me-“

“Why?”

She wore the same thing from that night, the same suit he’d lustfully watched her take off, straps down those very shoulders, baring herself. Her hair, up in this beautiful mess, makeup no longer there and her face beautifully bare. Still a sight, she was, a sight he no longer wanted to get lost in.

“Why is this so hard for you-“

“Because it doesn’t make sense.”

“Why not?“

“Because, I-“

Every word out of him, a fire that couldn’t be put out. Flames uncontrollable, and his breath nothing but encouraging winds.

“Because you’re gonna wake up one day and realize I’m not any of my brothers… I was the one who never stood a chance,” he said. “No one would think you’d want me, out of the many other things you could have had. One day, you’re gonna realize that I’m not what you wanted-“

“I love you-“

God, it was everything he ever wanted to hear.

“You had Dick and Tim. They’ve loved you for so long… And you’re actually choosing the one guy who doesn’t?“

“You’re lying.”

“Am I?”

Another step forward from her. Another step back from him. He can’t stand too close or all this would be as close to the world’s slowest, most painful death.

“Nothing could have pointed you to me. Everything was telling you to-“

“For fuck’s sake, stop listening to everything else and just listen to me.”

A struggle at that.

But he’s never been so cold.

It wasn’t even from the wind from such a height, if there were any at all. But he was shivering, his teeth were gritting. Everything he said, he didn’t even mean. And all the more was it excruciating to hear himself say it all.

But he could listen. Even if it’d hurt. He’ll listen.

She was crying. To just reach over and hold her hand. He couldn’t even do that.

“Three years ago,” she whispered into the cold night air. “I was at the manor. Two weeks out of the hospital. I was just learning how to walk again but that day was hard on me. I couldn’t make a step. I was on my bed, and I was just staring at the ceiling because I couldn’t get out of it.”

It pained him all the more, when he knew nothing of what was to come to him, that all this was going to catch him before he’d even realize what it was.

“You never visit me at the manor but that day, you were there. I don’t even remember what for, but you stopped by and you caught me reading A Christmas Carol because it was the one book in my room that I actually liked. Because I couldn’t go down to the library and get more, and I didn’t want to ask from anyone.

“We ended up talking about Dickens. I didn’t know shit, but I remember you talking about him like he was your uncle and I just listened to you. I told you I liked reading his books. You said you’d bring me more when you’d come back. Three days later, you did. You got me Great Expectations.”

Great Expectations.

Why can’t he remember this?

“You left, and I read it that same night. That’s when I found a quote that you highlighted.”

Jason took a step back, away from her.

“I loved her against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be.”

Everything. Everything that devastated, all suddenly came to place.

“The book was new. Store bought. The tag was still there. You bought it for me a day after you visited. Then you read it yourself and highlighted that quote.”

“How did you-“

“Remember that?”

She ignored the streaks down her skin, the droplets that fell down her neck.

“It was just a quote,” she shrugged. “It easily could have been nothing… but if I think of it differently now, it all makes so much sense.”

If he took another step back, he’d fall over the ledge.

He should have done that, now that she had walked close enough for him to get so lost into her face.

“If you loved me then,” you whispered. “Did you even know about it?”

This. This was worse than a fall.

He closed his eyes and everything fell through. The tears. The sobs. Everything. Because he did love her then. He’s always loved her since. But to admit it was close to writing his own death sentence.

This. This was death. And he’d happily jump back into that abyss.

“I didn’t want to believe it…”

.

You:

You reached for his face and for once, he welcomed it.

“If you tell me to leave right now,” you swallowed. “I’ll leave. I’ll never look for you again.”

Even if it hurts, even if I’ll have to live without you. If it’s what you want, I’ll let you go.

His hands found your wrists but it was to hold you, not to pry you away.

“Do you love me?”

It wasn’t in his words.

It was how he said yes that made you soar past the birds and the thin air from above.

It was when he finally took a step forward, to hold you in place, to keep you from falling apart and keep you so close, that acceptance of what truly went on, the love you’ve long known about and continued to believe in, even when he didn’t believe in it himself. It was there. It was what moved you. You could have fallen in from one of the many spaces above and still, you would end up in his arms.

“Of course, I do…“

Just as the sun rose, to greet you both into this morning anew. So new a life, waiting for you to come welcome it. And you welcomed it with the widest arms. He kissed you, so tender and real. Up where the city could see you, where you wanted to be seen, only to be with him.

.

Epilogue

Jason:

One box would have been enough for his clothes. He didn’t have much anyway. But as it turns out, leather jackets aren’t exactly as compact as he’d liked.

“Where do you want me to put these?!”

She was in the bathroom. He saw her peak her head out from the door to look at the jacket he was holding up.

“I set up a new closet for you!” she cried out, then she went back to brushing her teeth. “It’s beside mine!”

“Got it!”

He took the boxes of clothes, set it just outside the closet which he’ll definitely get into after he deals with everything else. Moving wasn’t something he liked doing, even when he’s moved around a single city so much before his lease would have allowed him to.

But, this new apartment, her apartment, covered in paint and canvases and rags all over the place that nipped at his neat freakiness he’d soon have to overcome, he might actually stick around.

“What about this!?”

He held up his box of books.

“I emptied a shelf for you, too! It’s next to my sketchbooks.”

“Sketchbooks, sketchbooks…”

Her sketchbooks were all over the fucking place.

He found that shelf, at least. Just enough for all his books. That is, if the paint cans above wouldn’t collapse.

“Do you clean up even just a little?”

“Shut up. It’s organized mess.”

“It’s always organized mess with you artists…”

“What?!”

“Nothing!”

She stepped out the bathroom, in nothing more than just a thin shirt and pajama shorts, then she watched him fumble with the last of his boxes.

“And, uh,” he coughed. “Can I put these somewhere?”

The look on her face, playfully annoyed as it was pleasantly unsurprised, she wanted to laugh that he’d resorted to storing his whole arsenal of weapons in a single cardboard box.

“That floorboard over there,” she pointed. “I loosened it up for you.”

“You’re a doll, pretty bird.” Jason put the box on the floor, ran up to her and grabbed her by her thighs, hoisting her whole thrashing body up his shoulder.

Her screams turned to laughter, then he spun her around, slammed her into her own bed like it was a wrestling ring and held her down with a headlock.

Everything he’s ever thought how this would have ended wasn’t so much of a fraction of how it went. Never has he smiled for so many days, happiness without condition, love so pure, a life that no longer was filled of days he’d have to survive, and was now a life he wanted remember, love, and live.

This was how it ended.

And he never wanted it to end.

-----

MASTERLIST | 3 BIRDS 1 STONE MASTERLIST | BLUE | YELLOW

-----

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[in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather]

Below are some of my favorite love-related quotes, most of which make me think of Le Gris now.

I feel like writing some blurbs/concepts for him, so you can send me a quote (and any other idea you have along with it) and we can indulge in our mutual Le Gris appetites <3

*

“You should be kissed and often, and by someone who knows how.”

Gone With The Wind by Margaret Mitchell

*

“In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

Pride And Prejudice by Jane Austen

*

“He stepped down, trying not to look long at her, as if she were the sun, yet he saw her, like the sun, even without looking.”

Anna Karenina by Leo Tolstoy

* 

“I cannot let you burn me up, nor can I resist you. No mere human can stand in a fire and not be consumed.”

Possession by A.S. Byatt

* 

”We are asleep until we fall in love!”

War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy

 *

“He sweeps her hair back from her ears; he swings her above his head. He says she is his émerveillement. He says he will never leave her, not in a million years.”

All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr

*

“We’ve loved each other so long I’ve never been a man and not loved her.”

The Essex Serpent by Sarah Perry

 *

“She is a mortal danger to all men. She is beautiful without knowing it, and possesses charms that she’s not even aware of. She is like a trap set by nature - a sweet perfumed rose in whose petals Cupid lurks in ambush! Anyone who has seen her smile has known perfection. She instills grace in every common thing and divinity in every careless gesture. Venus in her shell was never so lovely, and Diana in the forest never so graceful as my Lady when she strides through Paris!”

Cyrano de Bergerac by Edmond Rostand

*

“Soul meets soul on lovers’ lips.”

Prometheus Unbound by Percy Bysshe Shelley

*

“She was more than human to me. She was a Fairy, a Sylph, I don’t know what she was - anything that no one ever saw, and everything that everybody ever wanted. I was swallowed up in an abyss of love in an instant. There was no pausing on the brink; no looking down, or looking back; I was gone, headlong, before I had sense to say a word to her.”

David Copperfield by Charles Dickens

* 

“I have waited for this opportunity for more than half a century, to repeat to you once again my vow of eternal fidelity and everlasting love.”

Love In The Time Of Cholera by Gabriel García Márquez

*

“I would love to say that you make me weak in the knees but to be quite upfront and completely truthful you make my body forget it has knees at all.” 

Love Language, Chasers of the Light by Tyler Knott Gregson 

* 

“The way her body existed only where he touched her. The rest of her was smoke.”

The God Of Small Things by Arundhati Roy

* 

"Each time you happen to me all over again." 

The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton  

*

“You know what I am going to say. I love you. What other men may mean when they use that expression, I cannot tell; what I mean is, that I am under the influence of some tremendous attraction which I have resisted in vain, and which overmasters me. You could draw me to fire, you could draw me to water, you could draw me to the gallows, you could draw me to any death, you could draw me to anything I have most avoided, you could draw me to any exposure and disgrace. This and the confusion of my thoughts, so that I am fit for nothing, is what I mean by your being the ruin of me. But if you would return a favorable answer to my offer of myself in marriage, you could draw me to any good – every good – with equal force.”

Our Mutual Friend by Charles Dickens

*

“I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you.”

Persuasion by Jane Austen

[valwrite]

the bella-vista avenue book club; daveed diggs

masterlist

summary: if only she’d double checked her Amazon shopping cart, Y/N L/N wouldn’t find herself torn between what book to give her hot neighbor next.

warnings: fluff, cheesiness, a slither of smut, mentions of a car accident, cooper is a basic dog name, i know but stfu about it.

fic style: oneshot.

word count: 6455.

author’s note: this fic took way too long to write, bye. no but for real, i’ve been back in uni for one month and so far i’ve: done way too many assignments; had more breakdowns than a disney child star; had a covid scare; and spontaneously dyed my hair dark blue/green at 4am instead of finishing an essay. we’re doing well, folks :)

It took exactly twenty one days for the loneliness to kick in.

On the day the lockdown was first announced, Y/N L/N felt the most confusing sentiment of relief and fear blended together. She'd spent just about the whole day in the meeting from Hell, during which three people had stormed out of after countless shouting matches had broken out and her boss had blatantly fired one of the guys from her department, right in front of everyone. When she did eventually get out of said meeting- a whole two hours later than her usual work days ended -, she was struggling with an impending migraine, threatening to blur her eyesight the whole drive home. She arrived home safely that evening, by the force of some miracle, only to find countless texts from relatives and friends alike, detailing the quarantine announcement and all the rules that came with it. Though concerned over the state of the world battling against the rapidly spreading virus, Y/N was just glad there would be no meetings for a while.

Quarantine was exciting at first. In the normal day-to-day life she lead, Y/N often found herself falling short on time to do things she truly enjoyed. There was just always one more task needing done at work; one more errand to complete; one more mile to run. By the time she stepped into her home come the end of the day, her eyelids were always battling to stay opened. So, it was very fair to say that the sudden infinite amount of free time had her feeling rather excited.

Day two and she'd already set herself a list of goals to spend all this time on, a chance to do all the things her schedule got in the way of. Of course, with the situation at hand, all these goals were modified to be achievable from within the confines of her home. The first goal she achieved was knitting a sweater. Granted, it was a mess she'd ended up trying to turn into a dog sweater only to watch as her fur-baby, Cooper, chewed it into rags.

There was no goal on the list to be good at all those goals.

In the following weeks, Y/N found herself trying her hand at pottery - she both made and broke a mug -, baking - the first cake burned but the second she made was actually pretty edible -, guitar playing - it really was just like riding a bike: one never really forgets how to do it - and many other hobbies. In between finding her artistic calling in life, it seemed family quiz nights became the norm.

But twenty one days, that's when she finally took notice of just how lonely living had become for her. A full twenty one days of not having made eye contact with anyone outside of a screen or who happened to not own four paws and a tail.

The loneliness wasn't unique to her, she was very aware. But she was stuck quarantining in a house all by herself, hours away from any of her family and she knew it was going to be a fair while before she even spoke with someone face to face. Much longer than most people. She was still at the point where even bringing up the thought of going to the store- with a trusted mask on, of course - would send her mother into a spiral of worse case scenarios and her father would be threatening to call her doctor.

As neurotic as the two could be about her health, Y/N completely understood their reactions. Things had never really been the same since her accident, even with the years gone by.

She was sat on her sofa- well, actually, sat on her floor, with her back against the sofa - when the door bell rang. She was up at lighting speed, bounding her way over to the front of the house before peaking a look through the peep hole and finding no one there. Unfazed by this, she unlocked the door and pulled it open to unveil a package at her doorstep, the ever familiar Amazon logo splashed across it. In the past few weeks, the delivery service and her bank account had become well acquainted, with most of her new found hobbies being aided by it.

In a matter of seconds, she'd picked up the package, shut the door and made her way into her kitchen, a drawer being pulled open as she dug through it for a pair of scissors. The package was ripped up and there she found a sight she wasn't awaiting, her eyes widening ever so slightly and a "Huh." noise escaping her.

There, laying on the remaining cardboard package, sat a hardback copy of A Tale Of Two Cities. And right next to it sat an identical copy, both of them staring up at Y/N.

“This can't be right, right?” She proposed the question down at Cooper, who'd at some point sauntered in to the kitchen and sat down at her feet, his tail wagging lazily upon being spoken to.

Sure enough, when she checked her receipt online, there was only one copy on the list. She wondered if it was perhaps a “buy one, get one free” kind of deal but quickly found no evidence to back up her hypothesis.

Thinking of what the right thing to do would be, Y/N on instinct began to investigate how she could possibly return the additional book they'd sent to her. As she came to the realization that it would entail her having to return both books and, then, waiting once again for a copy to be sent to her, she changed her mind instantly. A few other solutions came to mind: she could mail it to her sister-in-law, she was just as much of a book worm as Y/N; or she could keep it until the next time she needs a birthday present for someone; or she could just keep both of the copies, even if it felt a little wasteful.

It was only later on that very evening, as Y/N chopped away at some onions and was struggling to contain her tears- she had a spoon in her mouth because her mother swore it stopped you from crying, spoiler: it did not -, that the perfect idea struck.

In the corner of her eye she spotted him, strolling about his own kitchen. He hadn't lived next door for very long, he'd only moved in at the very start of the year, if she remembered correctly. And though they had never really spoken or interacted- polite waves and stiff smiles when spotting one another either leaving or arriving home wasn't exactly very conversational after all-, Y/N couldn't help but decide he was going to be the honorary recipient of the book. After all, what was the worst that could happen? Well, he could use the book to keep his fireplace alight, but Y/N was more eager to just think optimistically about it.

With her mind firmly made up, she neatly wrapped the book in some stray wrapping paper she'd found in her junk drawer and tied a neat, makeshift bow around it. His doorstep was only a couple feet from her own and it wasn't long till she was stood right in front of it, finger hovering over the doorbell as she wrestled with the thought off handing the present directly to him. She recalled one night, where her bedroom curtains had been wide open to let in the moonlight, and he'd walked past his own bedroom window, nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. The image of water dripping down those defined abs made her mind up and she placed the wrapped book next to his door, the little note she'd written taped on to it carefully.

Happy housewarming! I hope you're taking care during these trying time! - Y/N, your neighbor from door 27. p.s. Cooper (the German Shepherd) says sorry for peeing in your flowers :(

A few days later, as Y/N and Cooper arrived home from their daily walk, a mysterious package sat on the doorstep. What made it mysterious was the fact it wasn't from Amazon, nor from her local grocery store either. Cooper possessed no hesitation and dashed over to investigate, his tail beginning to wag as Y/N approached the front door.

“What is it, Coops?” She crouched down, her hand rubbing over the top of his head as his tongue dangled out of his mouth. There was a small piece of paper stuck on the package and, at first, she wondered if perhaps her attempt at a kind gesture had backfired and the hot neighbor had just dropped it back off. Then, she read the note. “Housewarming? Took you a while. This Dickens guy's good, hope he finally get's some popularity soon. - Daveed, your neighbor from door 28.” A smile crept onto her face as she learnt his name. It felt nice on her lips. His calligraphy skills only made the name look prettier. “P.S. check this book out, author is a real hidden gem. P.S.S. tell Cooper it's chill, I got my revenge and peed in his flowers.”

It was there on her doorstep, with a thin layer of sweat decorating her face and a tired out dog at her feet, that Y/N upgraded Daveed from hot neighbor to hot and funny neighbor.

It was almost like an otherworldly sign when Y/N stumbled over a chew toy the next day, her whole body slamming right into her bookcase and out from it fell a book, smacking her right on her head to add yet another bruise on to her list. Her mother had always joked that she bruised easier than a peach, partially on account of her incapability to walk five paces without stumbling over air or slipping on dry ground.

She let out a groan, her hand rubbing at the spot the book hit her and she reached down to grab her attacker- which lay face down - off of the floor. The cover turned out to be that of The Great Gatsby and the sudden urge to wrap it up, attach a note and drop it over at Daveed's doorstep became overwhelming. It still felt so personal to know his name.

Was she seriously about to use a book as an excuse to try catch a glimpse of her hot neighbor, who just yesterday was claiming to have peed on her flowers? Yes, yes she was. Because, after all, he was hot. And if society had taught her anything, it was that hot people were excused of everything. Okay, perhaps she was exaggerating just a little bit but it all added up to the same thing: Daveed was hot and she was thirsty.

Maybe quarantine really was beginning to have an effect on her.

A few hours later, Y/N was comfortably snuggled under her blankets in bed, the room illuminated by nothing but her television screen and the streetlights outside. A door opened somewhere, her anxious brain questioning if it was one of her own doors but the sudden laughter she could hear changed her train of thought quickly.

Oh my god, his laugh was music to her ears. And, oh my god, she'd actually made him laugh.

She lay back, wondering which part of her note had made Daveed laugh as consciousness slowly slipped away from her. One house away, her hot and funny neighbor was near mirroring her position in his own bed, his head replaying the note he'd received from the cute girl next door.

Not too sure about this author, he seems to have a fetish for big feet! I'm beginning to question exactly what kind of weird foot erotica you read, Daveed from door 28! -Y/N, your foot hating neighbor. P.S. this guy definitely needs more clout, can't you just picture his writing being used to teach the younger generations? P.S.S. Cooper isn't happy about you peeing in his flowers but he is happy about the treats.

Two days later, in the morning, Y/N was sat at her kitchen island. Her computer lay open in front of her, untouched for the past half hour as she flipped through the pages of her book and sipped away at the smoothie she'd blended up for herself. Cooper lay sound asleep under her seat, the occasional snore coming from the pup. It was those moments in her quarantine that she enjoyed most, just pure tranquility. It took her mind off of the loneliness.

A feeling overcame her, as the hairs on the back of her neck began to rise. It was almost like she could feel someone's eyes on her. She tore her own eyes away from the printed text and checked her surroundings vaguely. It was only when she looked straight ahead, out of the window that she spotted the intrusive stare of his.

They were sat in near parallel, him also sat at his kitchen island with a computer opened, only he had a mug of coffee instead of a smoothie. When their eyes made contact, he grinned at her, waving the book in his hand before pointing at the cover. The Great Gatsby.

He really was reading the book she'd sent over.

Mirroring his actions, she lifted up her own book, the one he'd sent over all those days ago. The Hobbit.

It was short, it was sweet and it was the longest they had ever interacted off paper. Even without verbal communication, so much was said between them both in that small instance. It was a sign that these little book deliveries were appreciated, they both cared enough to read whatever the other sent over.

Maybe it was time to consider Daveed her hot, funny and caring neighbor.

The book exchanges continued onward for weeks.

Daveed sent over a collection of fairy tales by the Grimm brothers, his attached note read: Thanks for putting me onto Fitzgerald, gonna have to see if the school board will let me teach his work in my lectures. Think they might be against it, what ya think? In the meantime, check these indie short stories out. Think Cooper will resonate with the wolf in the Red Ridding Hood story. -Daveed, your literature professor neighbor. P.S. Noticed the Raptors jersey on your washing line, tell your boyfriend the Warrior in me is unimpressed.

To which Y/N replied to with, alongside a copy of Twilight,: Cooper loved the Red Ridding Hood story, but he says you remind him of the grandmother in it. Speaking of wolves, check out this classic example of American literature, the lack of emotions this author puts into her writing is truly astounding. -Y/N, the Raptor next door. P.S. The Raptors jersey is mine, but I'll applaud you for smoothly trying to find out if I have a boyfriend. For the record, I do. He's tall, dark haired and lives in my imagination. P.S.S. Could you ask your girlfriend if she knows any good foundations? I'm thinking of changing mine.

He took less than a day to fire back with a copy of 50 Shades Of Grey: If Cooper is the wolf, and I'm the grandmother, would that make you the girl? I think the romance in this book is quite poignant, it really values the emotional over the physical. - Daveed, your grandmother neighbor. P.S. Not sure about my girlfriend's foundation, seeing as she doesn't exist, but I use L'Oreal. Very creamy, or whatever it is foundation is meant to be like. P.S.S. You looked cute in your paint splattered t-shirt the other day.

Not even an hour later, he opened his door to find a hardback of the Holy Bible and the following: I went into that book expecting a rush of happiness and sweetness, but ended up feeling scared and turned on in the most confusing way. I worry about your taste, Daveed, and that is why I'm recommending this book to you. This will cleanse you of all you've done wrong, my friend. -Y/N, your concerned neighbor. P.S. I'm not the girl, I'm the huntsman. P.S.S. Your dog is so cute, Cooper wants her/his number.

It took 45 days of lockdown for Y/N to finally venture out to her local grocers, tired of ordering food online and desperate for some human contact which didn't have to be separated by a great distance and united by a glass screen and a stable internet connection. She'd felt wrong; out of place; strange the whole time she'd been wandering up and down the aisles of the shop, her mask secured on her face and a near full basket hanging on her arm.

The fact Cooper was at home, holding down the fort for the time being gave her a little comfort.

Despite paying through self-service, and using a contactless card payment, her father's voice was ringing in her ears, scolding her for even taking the risk of stepping outdoors. Naturally, she appreciated his caring tendencies but she liked to consider herself old enough and smart enough to manage her own health problems.

With four bags stacked awkwardly in her arms, she took a few steps away from her car, attempting to peak over her shopping to see just where exactly the gate to her garden was. She could very faintly hear Cooper's excited whining, his paws scratching against the metal gate.

It was the sound of a voice, a very distinct voice, calling out her name that halted her movement and turned her head.

“Let me,” He, Daveed from door 28, paused, his hand clutching at his heaving chest. As her eyes drifted over him briefly, she took note of the trainers, the sweaty running shorts and, most of all, his bare chest, perfectly lined abs scattered along him. “get that for you.”

Before Y/N could so much as protest, Daveed had already snatched all four bags from her arms and was stood holding the gate open for her, a stupidly handsome smile decorating him. Her mask was still firmly held up but she smiled beneath it and done her best to share her gratitude with him.

“You don't need to do that.” Despite her words, she never attempted to take her bags back from him, instead cautiously slipping her way past him into her open garden. Cooper launched his paws up onto her, a bark of excitement escaping him before he licked at her arm and redirected his attention to Daveed. Cooper was still fairly young, not even a year old yet, but he was a fierce dog when it came to guarding his owner from any stranger. So, for Y/N to turn back and find him happily circling Daveed's legs, his favorite toy in his mouth and his tail wagging at lighting speed, it was purely a shock to her system.

And the clearest sign she'd ever seen that Daveed, whether he was a complete stranger to her or not, could be trusted.

“Where should I leave these?” He ignored her protest, effortlessly walking up the path of her garden with the heavy bags secure in his hands. Having him around her, all sweaty and heavy breathing and half dressed was more of a health hazard than her trip to the shops. Y/N began to wonder if it was legal to look so good.

“Uh, just,” She fished through her purse for her door key, avoiding the temptation to peak at his abs again. “on the table over there, if you don't mind.” She nodded her head in the direction of the small table sat out on her front porch and, within a couple seconds, she felt as Daveed brushed past her, so close she swore she could feel the heat radiating off of him.

He done exactly as she requested and lay the bags gently to rest on the table, the muscles in his arms flexing. Y/N had to wonder if this was a purposeful action, a way to tempt and seduce her, as if he needed to try much to succeed at that. She'd more or less been whipped for him the second he delivered his first book to her.

“Are you looking after yourself?” Her parents had asked this every time they spoke on the phone - which was basically a daily occasion - but hearing it from Daveed felt refreshing, as though she'd never heard the words before; as though she'd never been spoken to with such tenderness. She let her eyes meet his face, a dangerous choice when she found a dazzling smile reflected back at her.

“I am.” Was it possible for a smile to be brighter than the sun? “Are you?”

“Yeah. Even started eating kale.” Daveed chuckled and she followed suit, because his laugh was infectious and she would willingly let it consume her. “It tastes like shit, don't get me wrong, but it's gotta count for something, right?”

“Oh, totally, kale-boy.”

“Excuse me, I'd prefer if you called me by what I really am: a kale-man.”

The mask slid down the bridge of her nose as she smiled wider than the Cheshire cat. In her mind, she cursed her heart-eyes behavior but it did nothing to halt it, Daveed simply put her on edge in the best way.

“It was nice to finally hear your voice, it's cuter than I thought.” She wondered if he was aware of the effect he was having on her, if each word and every gesture of his was carefully calculated to make her weak in the knees. “I'll save you from my sweaty smell and head off now, I can hear the shower calling my name.”

The last thing, yet also the best thing, Y/N needed to be envisioning was a water soaked Daveed. “I didn't want to say anything but, yeah, you smell worse than Cooper's breath.”

“There's the attitude from all your notes!” Daveed had at some point stepped closer to her, to the point where it was likely a big enough inhalation of a breath would have their chests touching. He was so tall, and muscular. “I'll see you around, Y/N from door 27.”

For two minutes she stood there, mask slapped across her face and her breath caught in her throat, nothing but the raw memory of his body so close and, yet, so far away from her own. She made her way indoors, finally, in a zombiefied state. Cooper trailed happily behind her through the house and all the way into the kitchen and, like the good pup he was being raised to be, he helped put away a few of the groceries, by greedily grabbing at the packet of dog treats when something else in the bag caught Y/N's attention.

“Thank you for the bible, now may I rebut with a copy of the Torah? The characters might seem similar but I swear it's different. Friend? Was that you officially friendzoning me, Y/N? And to think I was willing to look past the fact you're a raptor.” She mumbled allowed without even noticing, her eyes drifting across the note in her hand. When Daveed had snuck this into her shopping, she didn't know. Perhaps he'd left it earlier on that day and simply scooped it into the bags after carrying them for her. That sure made more sense than her theory of him hiding the book down his running shorts. “P.S. My dog and I share a number, so I guess I'll just have to give you that one. Just tell Cooper no phone calls past ten o'clock, that's her bedtime.”

She'd never thought it would be so easy to achieve her hot neighbor's number, but the crumpled paper in her hand told her differently.

The room was dark. Or maybe her eyes were closed. Y/N honestly didn't know nor care enough to find out which was the truth. No, all she cared about was the feeling of her nerves being lit on fire and simultaneously soothed. As the moments passed, she became more and more aware of the predicament she found herself in. Her head was thrown back on the comfort of someone's pillow- it couldn't be one of her own, it was far too plush and soft -, both her legs were bent up at the knee, her hands were busy grasping on to anything and everything close by (the bed sheets, the headboard, the hair of whoever was currently positioned between her thighs) and her mouth was agape. Hushed moans and whimpers of ecstasy filled the thick air of the room, and they were all coming from her.

The tension was building in her gut, a knot winding itself tighter and tighter all the while threatening to snap at any moment. Her hips started grinding in time with the warm tongue against her heat. Or, maybe, she'd already been grinding before. Nothing was making sense. Up was down, left was right and Y/N was on the brink of the most thrilling orgasm she'd felt in a while, or ever, really.

“You gonna cum for me, baby?”

Her eyes- which apparently had in fact been opened all along-, with heavy eyelids, flickered down to between her legs. The man was certainly a specimen built to the likes of a Greek god, or something deriving from one. His fingers, buried deep within her, coaxed out another moan from her as they curled upwards. Daveed only smiled in satisfaction at this, as if he was getting more pleasure from it than she was.

Daveed.

Holy shit.

Daveed was between her bare legs.

Y/N bolted up and out of bed, hand reaching out and switching on the light. Just as she expected, there was no sign of Daveed in her room: not on her bed, not under her covers, not in her closet. But he was everywhere in her mind. Fully dressed, Y/N had never felt more naked in her entire life as she gazed out of her bedroom balcony door, over at the very window of the man who'd soaked her dream in a haze of steam. 

His light was on.

Worst of all, she found that Daveed was sat at his desk, typing away at something on his opened laptop. As though he felt her intrusive gaze, he looked up from the screen and met her eyes. Due to the distance between them both Y/N couldn't tell for sure but she could have sworn he sucked in his lower lip before releasing it in a teasing smile, his hand lazily waving at her.

With all the shame in the world, she shut her curtains and flopped back on to her bad.

In the span of five minutes she'd dreamed of Daveed doing unspeakable things to her with that mouth of his and been caught peeking into the bedroom of the very same man.

She hadn't phoned him.

She hadn't sent a book over to him.

She hadn't opened her blinds.

He'd been stuck thinking about her for eight days straight, yet it was beginning to feel like she'd been nothing but a creation of his own socially starved brain.

In the grand scheme of things, Daveed was not a narcissist. But he also wasn't an idiot. He was very aware of his own looks, of the lingering stares he'd receive from his students- male and female alike-, of the way soccer moms would shamelessly pay more attention to him than their own sons when he coached the local little league team. And, up until that point, he'd been sure Y/N had been reciprocating whatever feelings he'd amassed for her.

One thing Daveed was is decisive.

Mask pulled across the lower part of his face, he let himself into the gated front yard. In a couple seconds, Cooper had pounced up at him, tail wagging a million miles an hour and tongue lapping away at his face. He chuckled as he lowered the dog safely back onto all four paws.

It only took knocking on the door twice for him to get a “Hold on!” shouted from some part of the house as a response. Relief flooded him at the sound of Y/N's voice, reassuring him that everything was okay. But it only brought on more questions about her sudden lack of communication.

“Hell- Oh, Daveed.” A mask decorated her own face, meaning he was unaware  of the hint of a smile on her lips. All Daveed could see were her widened and tired eyes. “Can I help you?” He'd been stood staring her in silence for a little too long, it seemed.

"You never called.” He'd never sounded more pathetic in his life.

“You noticed.”

“Of course I noticed. Did I do something to make you uncomfortable?”

Apart from appear in one of my wet dreams? “What?! No! I've just been busy and I also didn't want to burden you, if I'm honest.”

“I gave you my number so you'd call me, Y/N.”

“And here I thought it was so our two dogs could kick off their fairy-tale romance.”

“As their parents, don't you think it's our responsibility to get along?” Daveed wanted to ask what had kept her busy for eight days. He wanted to know what she thought about in the morning, in the evening. What she thought about him. About the prospect of there ever being a “them”. But it wasn't the time nor the place. “Promise you'll call.”

“I promise I'll call you, loser.” She laughed behind her mask, leaving him with a longing to see her smile. “Now get lost, I've probably just burnt my omelette because of you.”

Daveed had just closed his front door as he felt his phone begin to buzz in his pocket, an unknown number displayed across the screen.

“You owe me an omelette.” Were the first words he heard as he answered it.

Two months passed. The quarantine rules had loosened and tightened over and over again. The supermarkets had restocked their shelves many times. An entire season had come and gone. And Y/N and Daveed had spoken nearly every single day on the phone.

He'd come to learn a few key things: a health scare had kept her busy those eight days; she was allergic to bullshit and always called him out on his; she loved rose wine, or any wine really; she had the most beautiful mind.

She'd also come to learn some stuff about him: he was a university professor, specifying in classic literature; despite the muscles, he was one heck of a dork; he knew a little too much about the rap industry and was prone to throw himself into tangents about the subject; his voice was even more heavenly in the morning.

“Make yourself something to eat,” Daveed spoke down the line, a twinge of excited demand in his voice. “pour yourself a glass of wine and go up to your bedroom balcony.”

“Ooh, someone's feeling bossy tonight, huh?” Y/N laughed, switching the phone between hands as she pushed herself off of her couch, disturbing a sleeping Cooper. After a few strokes to his head, she began her journey to the kitchen, suppressing a laugh as the tired dog chose to follow her, much like he done all the time. “Am I allowed to ask why I'm doing this?”

“Just do it, before I hang up.”

“I'll add grumpy to list of Daveed Moods tonight.”

With a bowl of heated up leftover pasta, a bottle of red wine and a glass balanced in her hands, and her phone glued between her ear and her shoulder, Y/N found her way up stairs to her bedroom. She was incapable of turning on the lights until she'd put down the items in her hand. It was then, as the lights lit up her room in a warm, golden hue, that she noticed Daveed.

No, not in her room. That would have been completely creepy, and partially arousing.

He was sat out on his own balcony, room lit up behind him, with a dish of unknown food, some wine and a candle lit in front of him. He was dressed casually, yet Y/N still found herself on the cusp of drooling at the sight of him. And when he finally noticed her, Daveed waved with the most shit eating grin on his face.

“Cute onesie. What is it, a bunny?” His tone was friendly, as always, but that never stopped her from groaning in frustration at his teasing.

“Did you call me up here just to criticize my choice of clothing, Diggs? Because I was taking part in an intense Criminal Minds marathon before someone interrupted me.”

“I actually called you to invite you to enjoy the evening with me.” It was a curse and a blessing to be so foul minded, Y/N's instantly flooding her with different meanings to his words. “The sky looked pretty tonight and I need someone to appreciate it with me. Unfortunately, you're the only one who answered my call.”

“I won't hesitate to hang up.”

“Stop talking and sit down, your dinner'll get cold.”

Who knows how much time really passed as the two sat staring out at the other, bellies filled by food and wine, hearts filled with desire and longing. There was a great distance between the two balconies but Y/N couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so close to someone, even before social distancing had become the norm.

“It's crazy, I know. How can we be prepared to teach classes now that the infection rates are higher than back at the start of the year, where we all shut down?” Daveed had brought up the fact he was going back to work soon, a topic which made him a perfect blend of relieved, infuriated and confused. “I give it one semester till they make us go back to online teaching, honestly. What about you? Any signs of getting back to your office?”

“We just got the go ahead last week, we're opening back up in a fortnight.” Her reply was paused by a sip of wine, her second glass of the night. “I say we but I really mean them. My doctor told me I'm not allowed to go back yet, apparently I've got some tests left to do.”

The silence that ensued lasted quite a few minutes, then Daveed sighed down the line.

“Is it alright for me to ask why?” He seemed to regret his words instantly, at least from the limited expressions Y/N could read on his face. “I mean, the doctor thing. Are you sick or...?”

“Honestly, I'm surprised you didn't ask sooner.” In their months of getting to know each other, there were times she couldn't even open the door to him when he'd deliver some of her mail or drop off a bunch of flowers he'd stolen from a neighboring garden. It was always under the excuse of doctor's orders and he never questioned or doubted her, he just accepted her for everything she said and gave of herself. “I was in a car accident a couple years ago. It wasn't fatal for anyone, thankfully, but it was pretty bad. One of my lungs ended up collapsing.

I pretty much lived in and out of the hospital for months, which almost sucked more than having a lung that was pretty much giving up on me. I don't know if you've ever spent a lot of time in hospital but it's like attending your own funeral. Everyone that visits you has this look of grief, everything they say is apologetic and there are so many tears. Not to mention the fact the place smells like a crime scene with how much bleach cleaning they do. Anyways, I'm okay now but I guess they consider me high risk or something so they're taking extra steps to make sure I'm as safe and as far away from that virus as possible.”

“So, correct me if I'm wrong, but does that mean I won't be able to take you out anytime soon?” Daveed spoke up finally, and boy was she glad that he didn't want to stick on the topic of her hospital stay. It was a dark and sad time, and she didn't want to experience any of that with him.

“Nope, not until I get permission from my doctor.”

“Can't believe I'm getting cock-blocked by some fucking virus.”

A laugh, so loud that Daveed heard it without his phone pressed to his ear, erupted from Y/N. “You'll just have to settle for balcony dates for now.”

“This isn't a date, Y/N.” It was his turn to laugh.

“Oh, sorry.” Clearly, she was worse at reading signs than she'd thought. She'd never felt more foolish in her life.

“When I eventually do take you on a date, there won't be so much space between us.” His words honestly had the chance to make or break her in that moment, her entire soul depended on whatever he said next. “It'll be a night where I take you to the most ridiculously expensive restaurant. We won't really like the food on the menu but we'll stay as part of a principle. You'll be reluctant to let me blow all my money on the bill but I'll get my way eventually. We'll find some excuse or reason to stay out. Maybe we'll find some piano bar, do some dancing, share some drinks. I don't think I'll be able to stop thinking about how beautiful you look. We'll still be hungry because dinner was shit, so we'll get some fast food before you let me drive us home. I'll probably hold your hand while I drive. I'll walk you to your front door and, even if I really wish you'd invite me in, I'll be relieved when you don't. I'll try tell you how much I enjoyed our night but I'll probably fumble my words. You'll finally send me on my way but I'll find a way to steal a kiss from you. I'll probably think about your lips until the next date I take you on.”

“The english major really jumped out of you.” Y/N wished she didn't lack the self control to say something normal when a man spoke to her like Daveed did. “But, uh, that sounds really nice. Honestly. Except the bill part. We'll be splitting it or I won't be coming on that date.”

“You're so high maintenance, Y/N from door 27, but I guess that could work.” The eye-roll was audible in his tone. “Speaking of english major, I actually have a book for you to read.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, I'll drop it round in the morning.”

“I'll be at the doctors in the morning, sorry.” The wine had rushed to her cheeks, heating them up and making the chill in the air all the more relaxing, lulling her into a half asleep faze.

“Don't worry, I'll leave you a note.”

[bonniebelleklyde]

Ooo for the prompts thing, what about, “What do you think of (insert place) for our honeymoon?” with Loceit? (or another ship if you want a loceit break! I just can't get enough of the way you write them

Pshhh I will never get tired of writing Loceit, and I actually really like this prompt for them, so here you go:

It had been-- by all accounts-- an entirely mundane day. Nothing particularly out of the ordinary had occurred...well, perhaps it was a bit unusual that Logan hadn’t brought home a large pile of work to do over the weekend and had actually taken the full day off. Janus had spent the morning at the piano playing songs that he knew were Logan’s favorites despite the fact that Logan would never be able to tell him what a single one of them was called. And so they had ushered in their day with Janus playing Tchaikovsky and Schubert, and Logan seated on the ground, his back resting against the bench-- eyes closed and a soft, contented smile on his face.

“I like this one; what’s it called?” Logan would inevitably ask every few minutes or so, and Janus would playfully roll his eyes.

“I’ve played this for you hundreds of times, dearheart. Surely the name must be hidden somewhere in that brilliant mind of yours.”

Somehow, it never was. Janus chuckled each time and provided the name of whatever piece he was playing, and Logan would promise to commit it to memory. Every time, Janus knew full well that this was a lie, but it was an impossibly endearing one, and he knew that he’d happily remind Logan what his favorite songs were called every day for the rest of his life.

The morning rolled away at a languid pace, and Janus managed to cajole Logan into making lunch. They’d eaten standing at the counter as Logan chattered excitedly about the latest surgical technique that had been introduced at the hospital and what that might mean for his work and his patients. Janus loved when Logan got like this and found himself entranced by the glint in the other’s eyes and brightness of his smile.

There had been errands to run in the afternoon, with Janus going off in one direction and Logan in the other. When Janus returned in the early evening, he found that Logan had beaten him home and that dinner was well underway. 

They spent the rest of the evening in the way that they always did, curled up on either side of the sofa in front of the fireplace, Logan’s legs draped over Janus’s as they read-- Janus one of his countless novels and Logan some medical paper. 

It was a perfectly ordinary end to a perfectly ordinary day. And yet Janus found that, for the life of him, he simply could not concentrate on the book sitting in his lap. He was far too distracted by the way the firelight shone in Logan’s hair, the way that his lips parted slightly as they always did when he was deep in concentration, and the absent and easy way that Logan’s foot gently stroked Janus’s shin. Coming to a decision, Janus snapped his book shut, causing Logan to look up inquisitively.

“What do you think of London for our honeymoon?” Janus asked simply, as if he’d merely suggested they turn the television on.

Logan, for his part, appeared appropriately floored.

“What do I think of...what are you talking about?”

“London,” Janus replied brightly, a small smirk spreading over his face. “Because I think it would be perfect. We could tour Charles Dickens’ old home, visit Baker Street, and the Natural History Museum there is rumored to be the-”

“Janus,” Logan interrupted, sounding a bit breathless.

“Yes?” came the innocuous reply from Janus, the very picture of innocence.

“You...we haven’t...we-well we aren’t...”

“Aren’t what, dearheart?”

“We are not engaged!” Logan exclaimed, sounding equal parts baffled and exasperated. “Why are you talking about a honeymoon?”

Janus’s smirk melted into something softer. He set book aside and leaned over to gently remove the stack of papers from Logan’s hands and replace it with both of his own. All of the teasing was gone from his tone, and his voice was all fond affection when he spoke again.

“Because I’m proposing.”

Janus chuckled fondly when he saw Logan’s mind visibly short circuit, his mouth falling open and his eyes widening to a comical size.

“You...we...er, you...are...”

“Proposing, yes,” Janus responded gently, keeping a firm hold on both of Logan’s hands.

Logan was not one for grand gestures-- Janus knew this. He’d been wracking his brain for months trying to determine the best way to pop the question, and he certainly hadn’t planned to do it this way. But Janus had had a perfectly ordinary day with the love of his life, and he wanted nothing more than to keep on having days just like this one forever. So why not now? 

He stroked the back of Logan’s hand with his thumb, giving the other time for his mind to catch up to the moment. When it finally did, it was Janus’s turn to be caught off guard as Logan suddenly surged forward, bringing their lips together in a deep, slow, gentle kiss that stole Janus’s breath and warmed his entire being. He gave a soft, satisfied hum against Logan’s lips and easily sank into the kiss, losing himself in it as he did. 

When Logan finally broke the kiss, it may have been seconds later or it may have been hours-- Janus hadn’t a clue and couldn’t have cared less, not when Logan had kissed him like that and was smiling at him now like he was the most precious thing to ever exist. Janus would have forgotten his impromptu proposal entirely and simply been content to spend the rest of the night in this extraordinary man’s arms if it were not for Logan’s next words.

“I think London would be wonderful.”

I hope you like it! These are fun! I have another prompt in my inbox that I’ll get to next. Feel free to keep them coming!

[breaniebree]

Kane tended to use the room as his personal office more often the desk he’d been given in the bullpen, but as far as she knew he was supposed to be working alone today on whatever it was he worked on. Her brow furrowed as she heard the woman’s muffled voice.

“But I love you, Nash! Can’t you see we belong together? How can you think I don’t love you?”

“I don’t think you know what love is, Harmony,” a man’s voice exclaimed. “Love can’t be bottled and it certainly can’t be forced. I love Kat, why can’t you understand that? We will never be together!”

“Nash, please!”

“Come near me again and I’ll tell the Aurors everything, Harmony,” Nash warned. “I’ll tell them about the love potion you gave me, about the other men you’ve seduced and drugged. This is your last chance. Leave Katherine and I alone.”

Tonks pushed open the door to the conference room. Kane was leaned back in his chair, feet propped up on the table with files opened around him. One file was open in his lap as he spun a quill around. The back wall was lit up with the images of the handsome Desmond Elliot with is sweeping blond hair and well muscled physique was displayed shirtless across from the beautiful Hattie Taylor.

“Nash! I love you! Please, give me another chance!”

Tonks’ lips curved as she leaned against the doorjamb. “Hidden Passions? Really, Kane?”

He almost tripped attempting to stand as he tapped his wand twice over the wireless and the image disappeared.

“Er, it was just on. I needed some background noise.”

“Sure,” Tonks said, closing the door behind her. “My mum’s a big fan and according to her Desmond Elliot is much to good looking for his own good. Nashville Tucker has been quite the favourite character since he joined the show last year.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Kane said, turning back to his file. “As I said, it was just background noise.”

“Uh-huh,” Tonks said, moving to take a seat at the table with her crisps. “I needed to stretch my legs and I was hungry.”

[...]

Kane gestured to the files on her right. “Found a Delta Brambilla who found the body of a man poisoned with Lover’s Kiss.”

“Herman Frost?”

“No,” Kane said. “I think this was the first man she perfected the poison on before she killed her husband.”

Tonks nodded, intrigued. “She practiced.”

“She did,” Kane continued. “And here, in ’89, a witness named Donna Bram claims a man assaulted her who was later arrested for sexual assault.”

“She’s been using false names for years,” Tonks said, her eyes widening.

“The Black Widow is said to have lost five husbands and rumours are that she was behind their unfortunate demise, but if Belladonna Brambilla has been using false names for the last sixteen years, she’s the real Black Widow,” Kane said. “If we can connect all of these deaths to her, she’s responsible for killing at least thirteen men and eight of them were supposedly married to her.”

Tonks flipped through another file, searching for the name and tapped her finger on the witness list. “Delta Billa, Bella Frost, Donna Carthaginian, Ella Bram, Belle Fannucci… she’s been careful, but not as crafty as she thinks.”

Kane nodded. “It’s a good lead. I think she might be our weak link.”

“Lover’s Kiss is a pretty infamous poison though, K. I mean, even Marestella DiMaggio used it on Noah Dickens two years ago.”

“Yeah, but that was only because his contract was up and they didn’t want to recast Dickens’ character which is why they brought him back last month as a ghost in the — I mean, shit.”

Tonks’ grin widened. “I knew it! You were listening!”

“Okay,” Kane said, clearing his throat. “So I like Hidden Passions, sue me. And for the record, DiMaggio poisoned herself when she used Lover’s Kiss before she didn’t get it off her lips in time and the poison seeped into her mouth, backfiring on her killing Noah. The healers saved her in time, but Noah died and woke in limbo before the angel of his mother told him he was destined to return as a ghost.”

“But then that necromancer found him and helped him return to his body,” Tonks said. “My mum’s a big fan and according to Dad has been crushing on Sam Collins since he first started playing Noah ten years ago.”

“Anyway,” Kane continued. “I’m merely stating that the poison is real and yes, I think Brambilla has been brewing it herself and using it on her past husbands.”

Tonks nodded, flipping through the files again before reaching for her crisps. “I think you’re right. Now come on, turn the program back on. I won’t tell.”

Kane gave her a sheepish look before he tapped his wand at the wireless and said, ‘Harmony.’ A second tap projected the program up on the wall.

“Oooh, who’s that?” Tonks asked, pointing to the beautiful blonde bombshell who stepped down the grand staircase in a long black shimmering dress drenched in jewels.

“She’s new to the cast,” Kane said. “Her name is Hollis Sterling and she plays Maybel Macintosh the secret love child of Sloan and Noelle. She grew up believing she was the daughter of the wealthy business tycoon Mac Macintosh, but just found out she was adopted by Mac and Marion when she was a baby. Noelle thought her daughter died at birth. It’s a whole big thing.”

Tonks held out the crisps to him as an advertisement interrupted the program to tell them about the new sales the Apothecary. “Tell me more.”

“Lupin, we have work to do and I hardly know everything about the show. Ask your mum.”

“Liar,” Tonks said. “I already know you’re a die-hard fan.”

Kane dragged a hand through his hair. “I’m not. I just… listen sometimes for background noise.”

“Pants on fire,” Tonks said. “Tell me about Maybel.”

Kane sighed and reached for the crisps. “Fine. So listen, today is her eighteenth birthday party and Mac’s throwing the party of the century. He even hired a band to play, but last night she was snooping for her birthday present and accidentally came across her birth file. She confronted Mac and Marion and they admitted she was adopted, but they don’t know who her birth parents are. Noelle’s never given up on. She’s always believed her daughter was still alive despite everyone telling her she’d died, but Noelle has no idea that Maybel is her daughter.”

Tonks nodded as the program returned and she took in the beautiful young woman who filled the wall. She had a feeling she was going to enjoy being stuck on desk duty for the next little bit. There was no way she was letting Kane watch Hidden Passions without her from now on.

When me and @seriouslysam8 invent a soap opera show for shits and giggles...

[emerald-phoenix-dragon]

the thing about love

I read somewhere that love isn't a feeling as much as it is a choice and that really changed my perspective on relationships and love, so I felt like writing something like that. this is for @annabellelupin's 5k writing competition, go check her stuff out! accessible on my ao3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/33928936 so please do go check it out!

they/them Luna, she/her Ginny. A tangled love story.

**

A note on love

**

The thing about love was that it was so bizarre. Nobody would ever agree on what it was, how it worked, what made love, love. And that’s what makes it so special. It’s different for everybody.

And for Luna and Ginny? Well, their story is an interesting one.

**

“Love is to burn, to be on fire” - Jane Austen

**

When Ginny first met Luna, there was no sensational spark. No abstract feelings, none of those so-called butterflies in either of their stomachs. It was nothing out of the ordinary. But their story were soon to be anything but ordinary.

Their first meeting was nothing peculiar. Ginny had been on a run. She was sweaty and tired, ginger hair pulled into a messy bun and freckled cheeks were flushed. It was around the late afternoon, with the sun beginning to set a little early. Why not enjoy it whilst there was still some light? And so, Ginny jogged over to the park near her apartment flat, so she could sit on one of the wooden benches.

After sinking down on the seat, Ginny relaxed a little, listening to nothing but the faint sound of cars on the main road nearby and the trees rustling from the wind. The sky was a warm orange colour, with tinges of pink and purple smeared across it like a delicate painting that was a little incomplete, for there were no clouds that day.

This was the very moment when Ginny first laid her eyes on Luna. There was something captivating about them, with their wispy white-blonde hair and eyes a deeply mystical shade of grey-blue. Mysterious, like some kind of rare horse that wasn’t supposed to exist in the mortal world.

Luna sat down on the opposite side of the bench lightly, back then a mere stranger. Neither would’ve never guessed how significant this bench would become to both of them. “Hello there,” Luna said cheerfully, in a calm and soothing tone, “it’s a beautiful sunset, isn’t it? The sky looks so magical.” Ginny was a bit confused as to why this random stranger was speaking to her, but she didn’t mind. “It is, I suppose. I’ve not seen you around before - are you new to this area?” Luna was new. To this day they still do not know what compelled them to speak to the fierce-looking redhead who was built like she was sculpted by the gods themselves, but they never regretted doing so.

“Yes, though I’m only staying temporarily.” “Ah, well, pleasure to meet you then. I’m Ginny.”

“Luna.” They proceeded to sit in silence, basking in the beauty and glory of the bridge between the afternoon and evening, from when the day settled into dusk.

Eventually, Luna got up and seemed to vanish completely, leaving Ginny with a ghost of a smile and a nod of their head. Ginny herself did not stay on the bench much longer.

Both of them failed to see the words of dedication written on the bench they had shared.

“Dedicated to my precious Moon. I’ll love you forever. - your Sun” was the engraving. Awfully romantic, is what Gin would’ve commented.. Just perfect, is what Luna would’ve murmured. But neither of them read the engravement on the bench in the park that would soon become theirs.

And with that, the introduction of them was over. But love is to burn, to be on fire. And despite the most simple of beginnings, Ginny and Luna would soon burn brighter than the average fire.

**

“A loving heart is the truest wisdom” - Charles Dickens

**

A few months into this chapter of their lives they shared, the pair had somehow established a routine of meeting on the bench in the park that was now theirs.

Their story picks up again at what seems to be their 34th meeting. They’d shared many conversations since they’d first spoken, and both Luna and Ginny had lost count, for their tradition seemed to have gone on since the beginning of time, since forever was invented.

Their story, which had ignited with the smallest of matches, had grown past the small whisper of promise. Together, through these talks, Ginny and Luna blew life into their growing flame, and it began to burn.

Ginny learned that Luna adored springtime because of the flowers and the butterflies and the way they could peacefully people watch and enjoy deep talks with strangers, how much they enjoyed baking blueberry pies for no reasons other than to admire the colour of the purple-y filling, or the way they’d record themselves singing with the hopes of becoming something bigger.

Luna learned how to read Ginny like a book; seeing her little self-conscious nose-wrinkle, her constantly fiddling hands, the loud, free laughter, the way her hazel eyes would turn glazed when speaking of a deceased brother or the little smirk when prodding and teasing light-heartedly.

They fell into what many would describe as love. Their constellations had aligned, the dots had been connected. The singer mashed their individual melodies, the artist drew lines linking the two. The designer stitched their fabrics into a woven dress, their stories meshed through a writer’s quill and ink.

And at the end of their 57th bench-chat was when their love story burst into flames, catching on its pages.

Soft-spoken and poetic Luna was the wise snowflake that crashed into the warm rays that was the headstrong and free-spirited Ginny when they shared their first ever kiss together. Transfixed, hearts open, sitting easily on their bench.

Soon enough, they would learn how their loving hearts became the truest wisdom of all time.

**

“Love does not consist of gazing at each other, but in looking together in the same direction” - Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

**

In every single way, it felt as though they were both transfigured by one another. Captivated. Both of their lives went on separately, but every other waking moment felt like a blur compared to their timeless meetings.

Months and months soon passed. There were many warm kisses - shared in the rain, in the warm sunshine, lying in bed, in the pool, laying on the grass near an abandoned picnic, in the shower, everywhere. The meetings at the bench became more than meetings, and they met more outside from the times at the park.

Everything felt perfect, in the most fragile and magical way. Ginny and Luna were fully in love with one another, infatuated with every inch of each other. They seemed to never look away from the other.

Perhaps that’s where it caught heat too fast, where their paths began to fork and defuse.

Perhaps that was why they were doomed from the start. Star-crossed lovers, setting each others’ worlds to burn fast and bright and freely, but to leave each other behind with nothing but ashes of what the star they once were.

**

“In the end we discover that to love and to let go can be the same thing” - Jack Kornfield

**

Soon, Luna had to leave Ginny behind to continue on their own adventure. They were faced with the choice of maintaining something that would hold them both down, or to let go of the rope that they had previously been grasping so tightly to. It would be farewell to the bench, to the memories, to everything. For Luna, it was losing their sun. And for Ginny? It was the loss of her moon.

Both loved one another immensely. But both valued their own freedom more, and loved the other enough to see it and understand it. So together, Luna and Ginny chose to let go of the rope, to watch their fire burn down into ashes. And so, they parted, and never saw each other again.

Love was never built on magic or fate or coincidence. It was never built of feelings, either. The foundation of the very concept of love stood on the idea of choice, on choosing one another. Not once, not twice, but every single day.

And sometimes, as Ginny and Luna decided to do, it is easier to choose to walk away. For in the end, it is discovered that to love and to let go can be the same thing.

~ end

[voltagesmutter]

The Dickening.

Kink: Masochism || Hair-pulling || Orgy 

Pairing: 7 Demons x MC (F) [Lucifer x MC, Mammon x MC, Leviathan x MC, Satan x MC, Asmo x MC, Beelzebub x Belphegor x MC]. 

Fandom: Obey Me.

Warning: Fingering, Oral (Male and female), vaginal sex,   over-stimulation, breath-play, multiple-partners, spit-roasting, marking, rough-play, internal cum-shot, aphrodisiac. 

Day 14 of  @alloveroliver​.

Including prompts from @xxsycamore​​​

Thank you once more to @theinariakuma​​, @crystal13unny​​ and @andinewton​​​ for beta-ing (You are all angels).

Part 2

Tags: @thequeenofotakus-blog​, @kumovii @fairstival @acr2m @lilliansstuff @coldnachopeace @omg-mz-fanfic  @mammonsmainsimp​​​ @0-miles-away

“These should… help with the process,” Lucifer presented to you a table full of different bottles. Half of them glistening pink with shimmers of glitter, the others sky-blue with swirls of green inside. “The pink should help to… how do I put this… give additional help for you to ease the entry,” Lucifer turned slightly red as he gestured to the bottles.

“It’s an aphrodisiac sweetie,” Asmo giggled, “It will help you to take us,”.

“T-Take us? How big exactly are you!”  You questioned, eye’s widening as a blush took over your face.

“Well speaking for myself, you’ll need a whole bottle, maybe two,” He winks in response to you, causing a shot of arousal to tingle down your spine, thighs clenching in anticipation. “Oh sweetie, you already smell so good, I can’t wait to simply taste your delicate flower,” Asmo already sensed your arousal as he ran a hand up your thigh, causing a hitched breath from you. 

“Hey hands off my human! Once I’m done with her, she’ll simply be begging for me and forget about the rest of ya,” Mammon huffed, a pink tint to his cheeks as he caught your eye. When you turned back to face Lucifer, Mammon made a gesture with his fingers in the shapes of ‘L’s to try to show to his brothers just how big his cock was. 

“Anyway,” Lucifer rolled his eyes at the annoyance of being interrupted, “The blue is for afterwards, I dare say my brothers might get a bit handsy during their time and I want, - I mean we want no discomfort on your behalf, any bruises, marks, bites, any… of their…” Lucifer went redder and redder as he spoke. 

“Basically we can cum in ya with no worries,” Beelzebub finally took over, “Of course if that's okay with you,”. 

“As Beelze so crudely put it, but what he said is true, there is no fear of any… mistakes happening, in heat our product tends to be extremely fertile and urges take over, when we… well you know,” Lucifer once again fading out. You can’t help but try not to laugh at his awkwardness, but this is clearly new territory to his and them all as it is to you. “Solomon has worked tirelessly to perfect these, you have nothing to fear, I assure you,”.

“Okay,” You nod with a swallow, “So how does this work? Are you all, like at the same time?”.

“No,” Lucifer quickly interrupts your question, “No, heat will last over the next week, each of my brothers have chosen a day to spend with you as long as you wish to continue,”.

“We wanted to give you a day of rest so me and Beelze have shared a day,” Belphegor perked up. “I hope you handle two demon cocks at the same time princess,” He whispers into your ear as he leans over your shoulder, causing a deep blush to rise on you. The remaining brothers protesting to see it and yell at Belph to get off you.

“I apologise for him, he always seems to be most affected when the build up starts,” Lucifer scowls as Belph quickly pulls back from you. “Is there anything?”.

“No, that's all,” You smile softly as Lucifer takes your hand and gently squeezes it, his own kind smile matching yours, “I- I know you guys won’t hurt me, I trust you,”.

-

It was a rare time in the house of Lamentation, for the first time ever all the brothers' heat were syncing up to take place over the same week. Normally they had separate weeks spread throughout the year, only this time heat week occurred from the eldest to the youngest. And to make matters worse, you, their little precious human, was there. They all knew heat was coming two weeks before it started, intolerable lust coursing through their veins, extra sensitive to smell, being in demon form without any control. All were suffering.

Lucifer had offered for you to stay with Solomon, but his at times harsh humour and persona would make it a very un-enjoyable week. In all honesty you wanted to help the brothers, they did so much for you that you were desperate to give back.

You couldn’t even deny the sexual tension between each and everyone of them. As if each one wanted to claim you, pact with you, but couldn’t due to their brothers. It lingered thick in the air, a too long touch of the hand from Satan, a heated gaze from Lucifer when no one was looking, a playful grab to your ass from Mammon. All little things that held value to you, cherished moments and feelings towards them all.

So when you awoke a week before their heat, all of their faces shocked at your words during the morning meeting over breakfast, “Well, what if I help you?” After some much needed discussion, Mammon, Levi and Asmo needing no persuasion, you came to an agreement with the brothers.

And that is how you found yourself being prepared to be the ultimate sex toy amongst six devilishly handsome demons. 

-

Day One:

Lucifer was right, the potion you drank in the morning had sent your nerves alight, heat and want pulsing throughout your body. Your stomach twisted in knots, arousal shooting straight down your spine and to your core.  

With bated breath you made your way to Beelzebub and Belphegor’s room, dressed in only a thin tank top and shorts. You didn’t even make it to the door where it was flung open, Beel eagerly licking his lips, eyes the colour of the galaxy now swarmed with a clear lusting cover. 

“I could smell you all the way down the corridor,” He hummed, holding your waist and pulling you into his room, his face buried in your neck, “You smell delicious, almost too good to eat,”. A groan comes from the other side of the room, Belphegor sat atop of his bed wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and a sly grin. Both were already in their demonic forms, heads adorned with onyx horns as iridescent wings slowly fanned the room. A thick tail with hair fanned out at the bottom twitched occasionally as they undressed you with their eyes. 

There was no time for formalities or jokes in the situation, you were here to help them with heat and that was exactly what you were going to do. Clothes dispersed around the room, two sets of hands stripping them off you as fingers touched every inch of your freshly exposed skin. Sandwiched between the two, lips fighting a tongue battle with Beel as Belphie sucked on your neck, leaving red growing marks in their wake. The size of their cocks had made you clench over nothing, both long with thick girths, Belphies with a thick meaty vein running from base to tip on the underside. They both growled to see your eyes widen at them, red-hot and pulsing with need.

“You're so wet already,” Belphie hummed lowly into your ear, the soft brush of his tail grazing between your spread legs to feel the wetness already at your slit, before sinking his teeth into your lower lobe. You moaned into Beels mouth, unsure of whose fingers were running circle motions over your clit whilst two more pushed straight into you. 

A sharp hand in your hair turned your face to the side so Belphie could kiss you, his teeth nipping at your lower lip, leaving it red and bruised as he sucked on it before releasing with a lewd pop. Beel kissed his way down your torso before dropping to his knees. The fingers on your clit stopped at he slid them to your ankle to grip it gently and lift your leg to rest on his shoulder. 

“Fuck you smell so good,” He muttered bringing his nose to your exposed flesh and inhaling deeply. The tiniest flick of his tongue over your clit sent you clenching over Belphie’s fingers causing a hiss from the demon behind you. 

‘Move!” Beel growled at his brother's fingers as he licked a long stripe from where they entered you to the end of your clit. 

“I wanna make her cum first,” Belphie hissed, pulling himself away from the red-marks he was leaving along your neck, moving his fingers to curl inside you. You let out a whimper, the potion inside you drastically increasing your sensitivity. Every little touch, breath or noise was tenfold the usual, your skin and blood on fire as you craved more and more. 

“Please,” You whimpered, “Please I need more.” The two brothers exchanged a nod in silence, both of them stepping away as you whined at the loss, only for them to guide you onto one of their beds. From there they lay you down on your back, head hanging off the edge of the bed. Beel sat between your spread thighs whilst Belphie stood in front of you. His cock right in your eye-line as you stared up at it with hooded eyes, tongue darting out to wet your lips.

“Now be a good princess,” Belphie cooed softly as you let out a high pitched whine to feel Beel already with his head between your thighs, licking and sucking on your heated flesh like it was his first meal of his life, “Let Beel eat that pretty little pussy of yours whilst I fuck your pretty little mouth.” His cock already in your mouth by the time he finished his sentence, groaning loudly to see your lips stretch as he pushed more of him into you. 

It was awkward in the position to move your head, letting Belphie cup the back of your head where it met your neck as he thrusted into your mouth with wild abandonment. “Oh you can take more, I know you can,” The pink liquid you had taken helped to ease the motion as his head hit the back of your throat, choking you slightly without the repercussion of a gag-reflex. One hand grasped on his thigh while the other sought purchase in Beelze's hair, tugging and grasping at each movement of his tongue.

Saliva pooled in your mouth, running down your face each time he thrusted out and back in, a twisted smile on his face as he kept his eyes focused on you at all times. A humming growl of primal instinct came as he thrust faster, watching the outline of his cock at the top of your throat appear and disappear each time. 

Your throat tightened as Beel’s tongue thrusted into your core after such teasing of his tongue over your clit causing your eyes to widen and a low groan to roll in your throat.. 

“Do that again and I’ll cum.” Belphie groaned with his head tossed back, a particular harsher thrust down your throat as you attempted to swallow the pre-cum already releasing from him. 

Beel did the action again, this time curling his tongue which made your back arch off the bed, thighs pushing tightly against either side of his head. The grip in his hair tightened, anchoring him in place to where you needed him most. You were already so close. You hummed again but this time louder, the vibrations of your enclosed throat proving to be too much as Belphie gripped your head tightly, pushing his cock to be fully hilted inside you as you choked around him once more as he came. Hot-white salted release dribbling down the back of your throat, filling your mouth to the point it leaked from your lips leaving a trail of essence and saliva down your mouth.

“What a pretty sight princess, what a good girl you are taking all of me like that,” Belphie running his thumb along your cheek as you tried to catch your breath but mewls fell from it as Beel tongue fucked you harder. Belphie dropped to his knees, leaning your chest up and resting your head on his shoulder as he cupped your breasts, tugging sharply at your nipples causing another moan and buck of the hips from you to Beel’s face. The angle Belphie put you in gave you a perfect view of the ginger brother between your thighs. The hand now free from Belphie’s thigh joined the other to grasp Beelze’s hair, clutching to it to ground you as he brought you closer and closer to ecstasy. “Now be even better and cum all over his face,”.

It didn’t take much more than those words and Beel’s heated gaze as he peered up from between your thighs whilst his tongue twisted and curled inside you to find a release. Only you didn’t cum. 

Hot arousal pulsed from within you, starting from your scalp down to your toes as your back arched full of Belphie, fingers now twisting into the bed sheets below. Your hips bucked wildly as you cried out, core pulsing tighter and tighter.  Your eyes screwed shut as you collapsed back down, ragged breaths from you and deep monstrous groans from the two brothers. Only when you open your eyes did you realise what had happened. 

You’d squirted. 

Something you didn’t know you were able to do, all over Beel’s face which was dripping down onto his godly-defined torso. The sight itself made you clench and thighs clamp together. 

A snarl came from Beel, as Belphie continued to thumb over your nipples, gripping your thighs and wrenching them open as he knelt back between them. One hand keeping them open as the other wrapped around his throbbing cock, his eyes focused on your pulsing core before moving up to whine at your cum stained mouth which was still dripping with Belphies release. His wings fluttered quickly, the horns embedded in his orange hair seemed to throb in time to his cock. Two quick jerks, a deep groan and Beel found his release, spewing hot seed onto your stomach and thighs. 

His cock still stood solid after as had Belphies, arousal still high in the air between all three of you as you realised none of you would be satisfied until you were passing out.

“I can’t wait to feel you squirt all over my cock,” Belphie groaned into your ear followed by a groan from Beel as they moved you into position on your hands and knees.

-

Day two:

The bites and marks the two brothers had left all over your skin were no-longer visible the following morning, the seed that filled you to the point of dripping from you was also gone. No aches, no pains, nothing. 

“I trust my brothers treated you well yesterday?” Leviathan asked when you turned up to his room, inspecting your skin for any marks or bruises.

“Yes, Beel and Belphi-!” You started only to be cut off as Leviathan pinned you to the solid oak door.

“Oh normie, normie, normie,” He chuckled darkly, his orange eyes burning into your soul as they hinted a darkness behind them, “Don’t you know who you're dealing with?” His tail snaked up around your abdomen before curling gently around your neck, “Don’t ever mention another man's name when in my presence.” followed by a light squeeze to your neck. 

The avatar of envy for clear reasons.

Levi led you over to his bed, a bathtub now filled with water and the heavenly scent of rose. Your normally shy friend wasted no time, pulling you to him as he kissed you softly, holding you close to him as he gently tugged at your clothes. “Off!’ He whispered as he bit your lip before pulling back, pulling off the large hoodie he was wearing along with jeans with pure commando underneath. You couldn’t help but gasp to see the already-semi he’d gotten, although between your thighs were also already wet.

He helped you into the water, lying down as he pulled you to straddle him, his lips already re-attaching to yours as his hands fondled your breasts. The snake-like feel of his tail inching up your thighs to brush against your sex, both of you hissing at the feel of it. Thick and smooth. 

He moved one hand down to cup your ass, whilst the other held your waist as he moved hot kisses down to your collarbone, a sharp bite every now and then before focusing his attention on your breasts. Capturing them in his mouth as he sucked on a nipple, sharp teeth grazing over them as you threw your head back, unable to stop yourself from grinding over his tail that rested against your clit. 

“Oh Levi…” You moaned out, the gentle push of the tip of his tail into your core. Never had you felt something like this, warm yet cold, thicker and thicker it went as he slowly pushed more into you, stretching you ready for the girth of his cock. You cling to his shoulders for support as he thrusts slowly in and out until your arousal runs down his tail and mixes into the water below.  

Heat rose to your cheeks as the tip of his tail curled inside you, searching until-

“Oh!” You cried out, clenching tightly as he found the spot he was looking for. 

“I want you to cum on my tail,” He groaned against your skin, continuing to repeatedly hit that spot over and over again. Your vision flooded with stars, breaths becoming more sparse with each second as you grinded down against his movements.

“I- I wanna...Levi...I,” You whimper, scratching red marks down his chest, the pit of your stomach dropping as the coil tightened like your muscles around him.

“Words baby, tell me,” He gently pushed a piece of hair stuck to your sweating forehead behind your ear. 

“I wanna cum on your cock…” Embarrassment pushed to the side as you felt him still for a mere second. A lowly chuckle fell from his lips, sitting up in the water to slap your ass before squeezing it.

“Begging to be fucked already I see?” He sucks on your lower lobe, “You good girl.” The motion of his tail quickens, bringing on your orgasm in rushed speed as you wither in his hold, circling your hips as they buck against him. Head thrown back with a trail of sweat running down your back as you collapse against his chest. “Now,” He pulls his tail out of you as you whimper slightly, only to have the head of his cock pushing into you, “You can come on my cock,”. He pushed into you slowly, he was thick with a stretch that still burned slightly even with the potion and you were still sensitive from your orgasm. 

“L-Levi! S-Stop!” You gasp, pushing your hand to his chest as he completely stilled, even in heat a demon knew ‘no’. 

“Is everything okay? Should I pull out? I-I,” Levi’s normal persona slipping through the cracks of his heat, cock still buried partly inside you. 

“N-no I, I’m gonna cum,” You say in short breaths, focusing your hardest not to move as his cock currently pressed against a spot inside you that was about to have you undone in seconds. 

“Oh baby girl,” He grins with a cheshire smile, “Then cum.”. With that he shallowly thrusts into the same spot, the angle of his cock, the throbbing of his head, the push of his tail against your clit sent you hurtling off the edge with only half of his cock inside you. You convulsed around him, squeezing him as you pulsed, only for him to push further into you, fighting against your tightening walls. Your head dropped to his shoulder moaning loudly, your chest pressed to his as he held your hips to guide you into a grind. You whimpered from over-sensitivity, tears pooling in your eyes as you glanced up to see Levi smirking down at you. 

“Don’t worry baby,” He thrusted into the grind, tail never slowing its movements on your clit as you spasmed over him, “I’ll give you exactly what you asked for.” Thrusting into you at a speed where water splashed out of the side, another wave of pleasure hit you as you bonelessly collapsed against him, letting orgasm after orgasm wave across you until your mind was blank.

-

Day 3:

Sore muscle? None.

Imprints around your neck from where Levi’s tail had gripped you? None.

You woke up the next morning to an ache between your thighs, as if you were already desperate to be filled once more by another brother. 

Only it turned out the ache wasn’t purely from you.

“Good morning sweetie,” Rose studded eyes peering from between your thighs as you looked down, Asmo with his chin and mouth slick, “I must say I’m surprised it’s taken you so long to wake up after the way you’ve been calling out for me all morning,”. You can feel the slickness already dripping down your thighs and ruining your bedsheets.

“Asmo…” You wither, throwing your head back as a long stripe of his tongue started from your core to your clit, a hum of approval as he does. You try to reach down and bury your fingers in his hair but a cold movement stops you, your hands bound by handcuffs to the bed. 

“Sorry sweetie, but the way you were tugging my hair, I was going to lose control,” Followed by a gentle nip to your thigh. 

“How long-... how long have you.. fuck,” You whimper, pushing your heels down as you feel two fingers thrusting into you, the sound of wet arousal already filling your room.

“Three my dove, and I think,” He twists his fingers causing your back to arch with a pleasant sigh, “Your about to give me a fourth.” And just like that you came again around his fingers, crying out to feel your walls tense and pulse. “I knew you would taste sweet.” He whispered against your clit, pulling his fingers out to replace them with his tongue. Curling the lengthy muscle inside you to lap up all your sweet release. 

“Looks like the aphrodisiac is starting to work on you.” He teases, head still buried between your thighs as you turn to see two empty bottles of it beside you, Asmo had clearly poured them into your mouth whilst you were asleep. Not that you minded, this was a beyond pleasant way to wake up.

“Asmo!” Hips bucking, fists tugging against the steel of the cuffs around you, “More, god please more.” The lips around your lower ones suck once before releasing with a wet pop. 

“Oh sweetie…” He hums, pulling himself away, crawling slowly up your body to press his wet lips against your ear, “There is no god here, there is only me.” Your eyes widen to feel the heated length sliding against your folds, coaxing himself in your arousal. He leans over to press a kiss to your lips, tongue running around your lower before pulling back. “You taste like sweet berries,” He giggles. “Now,” He strokes a finger down your arm before it meets the handcuffs, “Shall I take these off… oh I guess I’ll leave them on then”. Half through his sentence you shook your head, a meek ‘Please keep them on’ came from you. 

Kneeling up, Asmo kept himself between your parted legs as he stroked himself. You let out a whimper to see him-

-Asmo was right, you definitely needed two bottles to take him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.” Asmo stroked your thigh as if sensing your nerves at his size. The stretch of him as he pushed in brought tears to your eyes, the drag of him against your velvet walls sent a heat across your body. Cheeks rising as you panted already, the feeling of being so full as he buried himself to the hilt inside you. His name fell over and over from your mouth as he pulled back to thrust forward, the squeak of the bed growing louder with each quickening thrust. His hands gripped on to your waist as your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer as he thrusted into you, your ass resting upon his thighs. 

“You feel so good,” Asmo rolled his hips into you, hitting every sweet spot inside you that made you sing out to him.

“Oh… fuck Asmo… harder.” You moaned beneath him, digging your heels into his lower back to spur him on.

A chuckle isn’t the reaction you expected. 

“You want it harder sweetie? My beautiful little human likes it rough?” He teased, peering down to watch you nod eagerly.

“Oh sweetie.” He smirked, hoisting your legs off of him and throwing them over his shoulders as he slammed into you, hands tightly holding your ankles. Your heated screams of pleasure were drowned out by the headboard shunting against the wall, the mattress struggling to cope with the roughening thrusts. Springs beneath you threatening to snap, like the coil within you that was already on the verge of breaking. 

The position of your hands above you gave him a perfect view of the way your breasts bounced with each thrust, admiring the way they slapped against your skin like the way his hips did against yours. 

“Gonna… gonna cum Asmo…” You groaned, back raising off the bed as your thighs began to tremble. Within the next breath Asmo pulled out and flipped you over, pulling your hips up as he thrusted back into you, he’d been kind enough to cross your arms when he cuffed them so during the flip it was a comfortable position. 

“Cum for me my sweetie, let my brothers know who’s making you feel so good,” He sings out, thrusting in abandonment into you. A bite to your neck pushes you over the edge, his name crying from your mouth so loud it could be heard throughout the house. 

-

Day 4: 

“Mammon…”

“Mammon…!”

“Mammon!” 

The moans from you getting louder and louder in pitch from the kitchen. Sat upon the wooden work surface, legs spread wide with white tufts of hair between them. Mammon ravaged you on the spot after he told you, ‘I need my breakfast’. The normally teasing demon swept you up straight up on the counter and tugged your shorts and panties down before you could even take another breath. 

“So good, so sweet my human.” He groaned, holding your lower lips apart with one hand as the other pushed against your thighs to stop them from crushing his head. 

Head thrown back to hit the tiled wall behind you, fingers grasping on to his horns causing him to rutt his hips against the cabinets, the lewd wet noises of him eating you like a feast filled in the air. Chest rising up and down as you tugged your top down with one hand, toying with your own exposed nipples for a slight added stimulation. The grunt that left Mammon to peer up and see it, was all you needed to be pushed over the edge. It was a purely erotic sight to be hold. 

He took you against the counter, hips thrusting into you with pure control and precision. Mammon unraveled you faster than he could swipe Goldie. Only the orgasm you gave him was much more satisfying to his needs than spending money. Leaving a sticky trail of evidence upon the counter, for only someone else to discover later in the day. 

Your lips were wrapped around his cock at least three times. One in the shower, once on his bed and once upon the pool table. Each time ending in your mouth full of his release, too much for you to swallow causing it to dribble out down your chin and spread against your chest. Mammon burning the sight into his mind. 

He bent you over every piece of furniture he could find, ramming his cock into you from behind until your legs threatened to buckle from under you. He’d lean over and whisper dirty words into you just to feel you clench over him, your muscles trying to stop him from pulling away each time his hips pulled backwards. 

“My tight human pussy,”, “Ya so wet and it’s all for me,”, “Fuck, ya look so good with my huge cock pounding you like this,”, “Cumming again? Yeah that’s right baby girl, let go and let me just take care of ya,”, “Ngh-Ya squeeze me so much, ya pussy already knows who it really belongs to, look how sensitive it is just from me pushing my cock into ya,”, “Don’t worry, I’m gonna cum over and over again. Fill this tight pink pussy up with the Great Mammon’s sperm,”. 

His personal favourite position of the day was when he fucked you atop of the pool table. You’d engaged in foreplay to start with, three fingers curling inside you as you leaned over and sucked his cock. Mammon under-exaggerated his length to say the least. You could barely wrap a hand around it, not even fitting half of it into your mouth before it was hitting the back of your throat. Thanking the heavens (and Solomon) for the potions allowing your gag-reflex to vanish for the time, taking Mammon down your throat until you almost choked without air. A ‘Fucking hell human. Fuck that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,’ groaned from Mammon as throbbed in your mouth, threatening to release as his eyes watched you. Nothing in his lifetime could compare to the sight. 

By the time you were close to coming, he pulled his fingers away before slamming his cock into you from behind, pushing your face down against the green felt. From the edging of the foreplay and the feeling of his head hitting your cervix you came instantly. Mammon gripping your shoulders tightly to the point they drew blood, trying to hold back his release. whilst he could hold it for a few deep thrusts, it was the whimper of his name as you turned your head over your shoulders to meet his gaze, watery blue eyes hinted with coin bronzed yellow swimming within a pool of lust that pushed him head first off the edge. He came so much he filled you to the point it gushed out onto your thighs and puddled upon the green felt of the table, hand having to jerk himself off as he continued to spurt his release onto your ass. 

The sight of white upon your skin, just like his markings, set off a primal instinct within him and within minutes he was ready and roaring for more, determined to paint your skin in his essence and markings. 

-

Day 5:

You were mind-blanked. Nothing but Satan filling your mind and body, lost in the white light of pleasure. Unable to form sentences, a babbling mess of incoherent words as you let pleasure ripple across your body like a surging river. 

“I’m not like my brothers,” He cooed softly when you walked into his room, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You’d seen Satan in demon form before but this was a softer side to him, demon form by lust and not from anger. “We’ll do this however you feel comfortable,”. 

“I like to be on top.” You smile, bringing a hand to cup his face. Satan was the one you were most worried about seeing his anger from before and almost, extremely mildly almost, frightened that he would bring this anger out into his lust. Alas, Satan cared for you the most and wanted to attend to your needs. ‘I can control myself in heat’ he told you. Words he soon forget in moments later. 

“You're so big!” You mewled, digging your fingers into his chest as you rose your hips once more before lowering down, this time taking him fully. His back rested against the headboard as he sat up, you straddled across him with your hands splayed across his chest whilst he rested his on your waist. “Oh fuck Satan, Yes...Yes!” fell from your mouth in-time to your slowly rolling hips. 

Whilst he wasn’t as thick as the others he was by far the longest, able to hit every needed spot within you as you grinded over him. Flush spread across your cheeks and down your neck, heated pleasure coursing through your veins as your mouth dropped into an ‘o’. One hand scratched at his chest leaving red marks in their wake whilst the other reached into the blonde of his hair and gripped onto his curled horns. It caused a hiss from him, eyes widening open as he panted heavily, the grip of his fingers sinking harshly into your skin. His self control slipped quickly with each roll of you upon him. Calling his name in a trembled voice, back arching so your breasts pressed against his chest, full skin on skin contact with him as he held you tightly. Your grip on his horns tightened like your muscles over his cock, the motion being his undoing.

With a strangulated groan followed by a whimper, heat surged inside you, one you had grown accustomed to over the last week. Satan’s head collapsed against your chest leaving you stilling your movements, to feel him continue to pulse and throb into you as he breathed heavily against your chest. 

You’d heard demon horns were sensitive during heat, but you never expected it to be that sensitive. 

“Satan...is everything okay?” Awkwardly still straddling him, his cock still hard inside you as you waited in suspense. You weren't far off finding a release yourself but now you felt it slipping further and further away. 

A growl unlike you’d heard anything before left from Satan, the noise purely demonic. With a scream you were pulled from off of him, a demonstration of his hidden strength as he held onto you, pushing off the bed and slamming you into the nearby wall. 

“Oh my little kitten,” A toothy grin meets your eyes, a slick tongue darting out to lick his lower lip as his eyes practically glow whilst covered in lust, “You have no idea what you do to me.” The vibrant green of his tail worms it way up across your body, taking its time to fondle and press over your dripping folds before continuing its way up to your body. You feel the scales of it wrap once around your neck and just as it squeezes slightly with control, his cock once again fills you to the hilt as he slams his hips into yours. Eyes roll from both of you to the back of your head, one arm holding beneath one of your thighs whilst the other pushes onto the wall next to your head to keep you caged in his hold. 

The roar from him makes the desk nearby tremble, objects perfectly placed on his desk rolling around and spilling onto the floor. He effortlessly bounces you off his cock in a pace that brings stars to your eyes in seconds, gasping as his tail continues to gently squeeze your throat until he feels you withering whilst you cum around him. 

“Yeah that’s right kitten, give into how good I make you feel.” Snarling as he says it, leaning down to catch a bouncing breast into his mouth as he sharply nips at your nipple causing a large red mark to form upon your skin. Unable to help you cling to him, red marks of dark lines grace his back as you claw into him, on the verge of a second orgasm already from how he’s pounding up and into you. 

“D-Don’t stop.” You manage between moans, unable to hold back at how good this feels. Your skin and blood almost on fire, one or two tears rolling down your cheek only to be licked up by Satan, groaning as he laps up the saltiness. 

The movement that made your mind blank into boneless-ness was when the tip of his tail pushes into your mouth, forcing its way into your wet cavern as he thrusts it in in-time to the thrust of his cock. Unable to focus you let it twirl in a battle with your tongue, drool pooling from your lips as it drips down your body to mix with sweat before hitting the point of where Satan and you meet. Weakly, you drag your arms up to once more grip his horns, danger threatening in Satan’s eyes as you tightly hold onto them. 

It was fair to say Satan completely lost-control, roughly taking orgasm after orgasm until you blackout from over stimulation.

-

Day 6:

You’d be fucked to an inch of your life and it felt like it. Whilst the potions you took helped to remove muscle ache, the vast amounts of sperm pumped into you, bites, marks and everything else, it couldn’t remove the memories of feelings of the brothers upon you.

You spent more of the day in bed, just lying in a complete bliss of contentedness. Heat turned out to be just as enjoyable for you as it had the brothers, using you to fulfil their needs whilst also ensuring your own outer-body pleasurable experience. Even after their way with you they still cared for you like they normally would, ensuring you were okay, making sure you took the potion to heal your ruined body before carrying you to bed and letting you rest. Heat would definitely change the way you saw them all, the softness of Levi now filled with memories of him fucking you with his tail, Satan drawing out as many orgasms as he could before filling you over and over, Beel’s cock in your mouth as you choked on it whilst Belphie pounded into you from behind, Asmo teasing your clit to the point you came from a few quick strokes against it with the head of his cock and Mammon unable to control when he needed you taking you against the nearest surface he could. 

The only brother you hadn’t come into contact with over the week was Lucifer. He refused to partake in your offering over heat, deeming he was a man and that he “should be able to control his urges without the help of a human.” That was Lucifer's way of putting it but what he really meant was he loved you too much and was too frightened he might lose control around you and ruin whatever this ‘friendship’ between you was. It scared him how much he lost himself around you, worried he would become a feral beast if he even got a whiff of your scent whilst he was in heat. And for that he kept himself locked away in his room.

-

Day 7:

It was the last day of heat and the rest of the brothers were slowly calming down, you could finally be in a room with them without them trying to tear off your clothes or burying their noses onto your skin just to get a smell of you. 

As you sat in the kitchen, a noise so loud it made the cabinets near by rock on their study legs, the solid oak door to the exit of the house squeaked on its hinges and plates threatened to break from the way they shook. It was a noise similar to the one Satan had made, a growl from the deep depths of within a demon. One that made your core clench tightly. 

You’d already taken the last potion you had in the morning, just in case one of the brothers' needs hadn’t been filled, it was better to be prepared. And as you stood outside Lucifer's door, slowly pushing it open to be emerged into a darkening sight. You knew there was one last brother who needed you. 

The inside of Lucifer's room was dark, tatters of thick curtains ripped apart letting light inside the room. Stacks of paper were tossed onto the floor in shreds, ruins of books and momentous were scattered amongst the room, marks upon the wall where they’d been thrown leaving huge dents. In the midst of the room stood a figure hunched over, black as dark as night heaving on the toned back that raised and lowered with deep breaths. Clothes ripped upon his body, as if he’d torn at them themselves, unable to keep himself caged within them. 

“Lucifer…” You meekly called out into the room, taking a bold step forward into the room, letting the door shut behind you softly. When no reply came you took another step forward, closing the distance between you and him. 

And on your third step, red-beaded eyes glowing like the rising sun turned to find you, staring at you like a predator upon prey. It made you freeze. For the first time you weren't seeing Lucifer as Lucifer, you were seeing a really powerful demon. 

“Leave.”

“Luci-“

“I said go!” Lucifer's plea came out in a yell, one that echoed off the walls and ricocheted off the furniture in its way. He turned on the spot, standing tall and proud, the exposure of his toned abdomen beneath peering through the barely together shirt. The normal trousers he wore were nothing but torn shorts, half opened and falling down his waist as black boxers poked from underneath them and as your eyes travelled down-

-A bulge clearly visible travelling far down his thigh, thick in girth and straining to be freed. 

“Lucifer I-“ You take a step forward, you should have been frozen in fear from the way he was hungrily staring at you but this beast, this demon, was still your protector Lucifer.

In the next moment he was stalking towards you at breakneck speed, clutching his hands to your forearms as his breath came in waves. 

“Your aroma is so… powerful,” Leaning down to slowly lick your neck causing a soft whimper as you tilted your head to allow him better access. As if realising his actions he pulled away, dropping his hands from you. “Please- I… I can’t control myself around you,” His voice breaking as he tried to keep himself away from you.

“Lucifer please, let me help you.” You softly whispered, reaching a hand out to gently cup his sharply defined jawline, a growl stirring in his throat. 

“I won’t be able to hold back… I- I’ll hurt you… I’m not like my brothers, my heat is worse…” Lucifer swallowing, the bob of his adam’s apple clear from above you. The reason as to why Lucifer kept pushing you away for heat was clearly visible. 

“I’m not scared of you Lucifer,” Softly rubbing your thumb over his skin, “Please, let me help you, I want to help you.”

The hands that held your arms came back to grip your face, pulling you up as he leaned down, pressing his lips tightly to yours as his tongue forced its way into your mouth. He gripped the back of your neck forcing an angle so his tongue could slide further into your throat, pushing the full length of his body against yours. The hand on your arm bunched your shirt up and ripped it off your body, leaving your torso exposed as he bit your bottom lip. Greedily he palmed your breasts, pulling his mouth away from you, you fell to your knees.

You were lost in the haze, completely taken over in lust as Lucifer’s grip in your hair tightened. One hand wrapped partly around his base whilst your mouth worked down over him, thrusting and fucking your mouth until your eyes watered and spit fell from your lips and onto the floor below. His cock was bigger than the rest, solid and pulsing it stood, flushed red with veins that throbbed down the side of it just aching to be touched. Growls and grunts fell over and over from him, fucking your face as he pushed the whole of his cock down your throat until you gagged and choked over it. He spilled into your mouth with nothing more than a few ragged breaths, the fingers in your hair twisted and tugged as he throbbed. Thick spurts of white falling with saliva from your lips, running down your throat as you held eye-contact with him, swallowing the more than plentiful release. 

Your shorts were ripped from you as well, the sound of fabric tearing filling the room as he positioned you upon the bed on your hands and knees. He wasted no time lining up and thrusting into you, groaning so loudly that the bed rocked beneath you. Even with your own arousal and the potion, it was still a matter of patience for him to fully enter you, patience which Lucifer currently didn’t have. He shallowly thrusted with urgency until half of him slid in without any resistance, your tight walls clenching over him to stop him pulling out with every thrust. Until finally, he spat down to where you met and hilted himself fully into you.

“Lucifer!” You grip tightly to the bed-sheets, the force of him enough to make the air inside your lungs leave your body. Painted red nails of sharp spiked fingers clutch to your waist as he pulls your body back, not giving moments to adjust as he pushes over and over into you until slapping of wet skin is almost louder than the noises you're both making. He drives purposefully to the spot that makes your back arch, an orgasm building up already with little to no second to savour the feeling. The blood inside you is flaming, spreading a heated wild-fire inside you as every nerve is set alight with intensity. 

As your muscles tighten rapidly, Lucifer roars out as sweat drips down his body completely giving into his heated need as he fucks you with primal urgency. His pace growing rapid as he feels your orgasm so close, unable to stop his nails breaking into your skin as he grips at you. The experience verging on painful as your elbows collapse, your face falling onto the pillows beneath as your body shunts forward with every powerful thrust. 

“Fuck you look so good taking me like this,” His eyes focusing on the way his meaty cock stretches you over and over again as he thrusts in and out of you in tight controlled movements, unwanting and unwilling to even pull himself fully out of you. 

You couldn’t help but scream out as you came, watery tears leaking from your eyes at the intensity of the white flooding your eyes, whilst highly pleasurable to a new level, it came fast and hard from Lucifer's punishing movements into you. The hands on your waist move, one leaning over you to grip the headboard showing his strength as it snapped. Splintering wood now lay in his hand as his whole body shook from the grip whilst you pulsed over him. The other hand clutched at the back of your neck and sunk scratches upon your shoulders that threatened to bleed. The sound of all four wings racing in speed to match his thrusts, unbridled passion of lust seeping from every inch of him.

Lucifer continued to thrust, the over-sensitivity of your spot being repeatedly hit boarded on painful. 

This was no longer Lucifer, this was a creature pulled from the deepest pits of hell, brutally taking you until you could give no more. 

Your teeth bit into the pillow, trying to obscure your whimpers but Lucifer heard them loud and clear. Pulling you up gently by the back of your hair, pulling up until you rested on your knees, your ass resting on the top of his thighs as his chest pressed against your back. A strong arm curved around the front of you to cup a breast, the weight of it bouncing in his hand with each thrust as his index and thumb rolled your nipple between them. The hand in your hair loosening to run his palm down your stomach, crying out loudly to feel his fingers spread your folds and rub tight circles around your clit. Head rolling against his shoulder, eyes falling to the back of your head as his lips press soft kisses down the contour of your neck, pleasure taking over every sense in your body. ‘Lucifer… Lucifer… Lucifer’ Over and over it falls from your mouth like a sinful prayer, body’s entwined like those of lovers. An erotic sight of pure loving pleasure upon his satin sheets. Gone was the rough fucking from moments before, Lucifer kissing the areas up on your shoulders where red marks lay as if trying to melt the pain away. 

The softening tenderness was a surprise side of him you never expected. Deep penetrating thrusts, hitting inside you as he pulled partly out to thrust back in, groaning deeply as you came around him again in little time. This time feeling the full force of pleasure spread through your veins, not rough or forced like the one before, this one connecting you and Lucifer in an almost spiritual experience as you cried out his name to the highest of heavens. Skin ablaze whilst your toes curled, arms reaching behind you to wrap around his neck, burying in his raven hair to pull his face to yours. One hand wrapped around the ebony horn to keep him close, the added stimulation of that and your tightening walls was all he needed. The stuttering flutter of his rapid wings from behind indicated his release before you felt it. Lips meeting in a sloppy kiss, as you felt his heat surge inside you, biting his lower by accident as another orgasm blends into your waves of pleasure. 

Trembling in his hold, hips rocking against his as you pulse to the point mixed arousal dripped down your thighs as he pulled his softening cock from you. Whimpering from over sensitivity as your muscles still squeezed him to try stop him from pulling out. “Shh little one, I’ve got you.” He cooed softly, kissing your lips over and over in softening pecks, hands running up and down your sides. Both of your skins aglow with sweat, ragged breaths meeting together, foreheads stuck and pressed against each other. Sharing a tender embrace with the eldest brother, two racing hearts beating at the same time. 

“I hurt you.” His eyes full of shame to see the marks upon you caused by his own hand, his heart heavy and wounded to know that he did this to you. 

“I’m okay, Lucifer I’m okay.” You whisper against his lips, slowly turning to face him. None of it hurt, all that mattered was that Lucifer knew you were fine and that whatever happened didn’t change your opinion on him. You bury your hands once more in his hair to kiss him, softly pushing him back until he lay on the bed as you straddled him, lips never parting for a second. He was still erect and most likely would be until the end of his heat that night. Slowly, you lifted your hips and let yourself sink back down onto him. He groaned so softly into your mouth as he protested at your slowly grinding hips, you interlaced your fingers with his. “Just let me take care of you.” Pooling eyes full of lust and love meeting each other as Lucifer nodded at your words, giving you full control to him as his thumb slowly rubbed over yours. Rocking your hips slowly, a complete change in atmosphere as you brought each other to a slow burning climax for the following of the night.

-

Day 8:

You woke up wrapped in satin sheets, a strong arm around your waist and a heavy breath against the back of your neck. Turning in the embrace to see Lucifer, sound asleep and more importantly back to his human form, heat was finally over. Lucifer had been the first brother to spend the night with you after sex, watching you drink every drop of the blue potions until he knew for sure that no-harm had come to you for his actions. 

“Good morning.” A groggy voice yawned as the arm around you pulled you closer, resting you against his chest.

“Good morning,.” You whispered, pressing a sweet chaste kiss to where his heart lay. 

Whilst heat may have given you the experience to be an individual part of the brothers for a week, when you woke up today was where you were meant to belong. In the strong hold of your loving protector, Lucifer.

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