#sometimes i feel silly for writing back so much but i hope my responses are somewhat enjoyable!!

[garoujo]

✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU ; — you can’t help but feel a little upset thinking that your boyfriend has forgotten your anniversary.

ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ warnings! f!reader, none, fluff! although it gets a tiny bit hawt at the end! ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! an anon suggested this drabble idea literally like sometime last year + the new szn finally gave me some motivation to write it! i hope u see this!

3 years.. 3 years and gojo didn’t leave you with so much as a “happy anniversary” as he left this morning. you’d have even taken an extra smack on the ass during your usual morning makeout session, the taste of his two sugar’s too sweet coffee on his tongue as it twists with yours and his hands on your waist.. but that’s it, that’s all???

so now you’re here, angrily stomping back to your shared apartment after the few errands you had to run today because you took the day off to celebrate. but your dumb, stupidly handsome boyfriend doesn’t even know what for as he rambles on the other side of the phone.

“can feel you poutin’, what’s gotten into my sweet girl? hm?” gojo hums like hes thinking about something, his same sickly sweet tone dripping through you like honey despite the way you want to be mad at him right now— you would’ve ignored the call all together, just to be petty if you didn’t know he’d turn up at the door a second later.

“nothing. i’m just almost home that’s all.” you’re lying and you know he can tell, he always could. he could pick up every slight, little change in your attitude like he seen right through you.

“oh yeah? nothing at all on your mind?” gojo drawls again, there’s a teasing lull to his voice and it makes your pout puff out even more before he breathes out a low chuckle and sighs. “and here i thought you were mad at me. you almost made me cry at work— who would take me seriously then, huh?”

“you’re not funny.” you huff out, short and a little clipped as you finally come to a stop infront of your apartment door — fiddling with your keys in your hand while your pout still rests on your features.

“you sure?”

you really can’t be bothered playing gojo’s games right now and as amusing as he seems to find himself, it’s only making you burn hotter — making your stomach twist with the lump in your throat that you’ve been fighting to keep down all day. you don’t want to get upset, but it meant a lot to you.

you just wanted him to maybe put in a little effort on the one day that you guys really get to celebrate eachother.

“positive. so i’m gonna g—“ you can barely finish your own spiralling, upsetting thoughts before your snapped response through your phone fades on your tongue. but suddenly, the tears youd been fighting to hold back all day seem to come so ruthlessly, gathering along your lashes as you gaze onto the ocean of red that greets you as you open the door.

you’re not sure how many bouquets there are waiting for you there. hundreds? thousands? sitting pretty along the floor, decorating the shared space so beautifully that you don’t even realise that you’ve gone quiet. ofcourse gojo would do something like this, and suddenly you feel a little silly for even doubting him.

“ah, fine. i guess i’ll get the guy to come pick all of those back up then, huh, sweet thing?”

but the smooth tone that sounds from your phone speaker sounds a little louder, closer when it’s accompanied by a long arm wrapping around your waist from behind as kisses are pressed up the side of your neck.

“but, you—“ you try but you feel so overwhelmed, so full of love as gojo’s large figure drapes over you from behind. his face is stuffed into the crook of your neck and you can feel the way his crooked smile sits on his features as it presses against your skin. he feels warm, although you’re sure he’s more than smug right now when he pulls away with an exaggerated gasp that cuts off your sentence.

“as if you’re perfect, good looking boyfriend would ever forget. what do you take me for, hm?” you giggle at that despite the way he’s teasing you again, squeezing at your sides until you’re meeting his gaze and you’re sure you must look so in love when you notice the way his features soften slightly.

“happy anniversary, princess.” gojo grins as he leans into kiss you breathless, twisting into your mouth as his tongue pushes past your lips and you almost rock back with how dizzy he makes you feel. but his hands are on your hips, keeping you close against his chest with a stability that you’d always found in him.

another long press of his lips with yours and you whimper sweetly as he pulls away to look at you, pretty gaze glowing slightly from under the snowy peaks of his hair before he’s smirking again, maybe a little wider this time.

“you gonna laugh f’ me when i tell jokes again? i can feel the tears threatening to start again.” he’s like a professional when his cheeky grin twists into an exaggerated pout, making you laugh again— a little harder this time before you’re pinching at his cheeks playfully and bringing him in for another quick kiss.

“you’re such a dork.” you tease and gojo groans against your lips like he’s offended.

“mmm, no thank you? oh i’m hurt, sweet girl. what’ll i do with you now, hm?” the look he gives you as he pulls away is suspicious, a raised brow as his head falls to the side and he really looks like he’s considering it. until the next moment his large palm is coming down heavy on your ass before his next handful squeezes.

“satoru!” you squeal but that only seems to make him chuckle as he leans down to kiss you again, rougher this time despite the way you’re both smiling giddily into the shared, messy press of eachother. almost too quickly finding yourself pressed up against the wall in the hallway as he melts into you.

“let’s see! oh, i’ve got a few ideas.”

© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

[obae-me]

A Taste Of His Own Medicine- Full Revised Masterpost

No one asked for it, but I wanted it, so here it is! I was going through some of my old stuff, particularly this series because it was a personal favorite of mine. And boy oh boy did I feel like it was outdated. Partially because of nightbringer, but also because my writing style has changed a bit over the last few years. So, I figured I'd go through it all, edit a few things, take out a few bits I didn't agree with character wise, and add some details here and there to make it all flow a little better! Lucifer's chapter especially got a chunky overhaul (yeesh that one made me cringe). The changes aren't enormous, but just enough to make a difference I think. And now I get to put them all in one nice little post! I'll still be keeping my older versions on my masterlist. It'll be kinda neat to have both there for comparison's sake. Plus I added a little bonus scene at the end that's... a teaser of things I have planned. See if you can guess what it is. Oh, and if you're new here, hi! Enjoy a silly fic I made!

Anyways, enjoy!

Warnings: Sickness, fainting, blood mention, gagging, fighting, medication use, brief taking of double doses. General sickfic things.

It spread as a rumor first. The halls of RAD were always abuzz with the latest news; the newest trend, an upcoming event, what Diavolo was having for lunch. However, lately the only thing everyone seemed to be talking about was a new airborne virus. Students clustered less frequently in the halls, sharing hushed whispers on who had been most recently afflicted. You had been assured that humans should be immune to this particular strain but to still err on the side of caution. Take the proper steps to keep yourself in good health. Waves of sickness like this always came closer to the wintertime, much like the human realm. And while the air in the Devildom carried a general sense of anxiety, no one in the House of Lamentation seemed worried in the least.

“We’re technically fallen angels, not demons.”

“Psh, you think a little virus is enough to affect us? No chance!”

“There’s no way any of us will get sick. Don’t worry.”

Pride was rampant throughout the House. So…perhaps it was only fitting that Lucifer was the first in the household to catch it.

He had shown symptoms a few days before, beginning with not having the energy to scold Mammon. Then it snowballed from there. Almost losing his balance while going up the stairs, putting too much sweetener in his coffee, failing to focus over relatively mindless things, it concerned you. Everyone else didn’t seem to notice…or perhaps they were pretending not to, taking advantage of Lucifer’s odd state and doing whatever their sinful little hearts desired. No one thought it could be that serious, otherwise they might’ve done something about it. Kept a closer eye on him… But this was Lucifer after all. He got like this sometimes, they all claimed. He was simply working himself too hard again. But…even so…you knew something was off. This was more than just your typical burnout.

Did you dare risk damaging his pride to ask? You weighed the outcomes in your mind, deciding in the end to go check on what was wrong that night. Hoping to appeal to him, you had even made some of his favorite tea. You’d even prepared a second cup for you, secretly wanting to maybe share a moment of time together… Stepping slowly to ensure you didn’t spill a single drop, you went straight to his bedroom, knocking on his door exactly twice in even beats. No answer. His study then, perhaps. So you headed there, passing the shelves of dusty tomes to see that the bookshelf which served as his secret entrance was wide open.

“Lucifer?” you called, holding yourself back on worried feet. Waltzing in unannounced did not always grant you the warmest of receptions. He preferred to have some sort of warning. Although, this time there was no response to your announcement. “Lucifer?” you asked again, your voice slightly louder. Still nothing. You couldn’t hear any music… and he wasn’t often known to wear headphones. Just a peek couldn’t hurt, could it? Just to make sure he wasn’t inside. You stepped forward and poked your head through the doorway.

At first glance, the office appeared empty, his overly grandiose chair devoid of its demon. However, after a better look, you noticed that he was inside, just not how you expected him to be. The Prideful Lucifer was crumpled on the ground, surrounded by what should’ve been a stack of papers, but now was just a scattered mess on the floor.

The heart in your chest nearly stopped, your mind jumping to various grisly conclusions. Somehow you managed to put the teacups aside without dropping them like one might do in a dramatic soap opera episode. The musical sting was audible in your mind. You rushed to him, moving him with a strained grunt so he was flat on his back. You shouted his name in an attempt to wake him, checking for wounds. “Lucifer!” He didn’t move. Not even a twitch. Burning crimson cheeks flushed brightly on skin as white as a sheet. You checked his breathing. Constant, luckily, but shaky. There was a faint tremble throughout his body. Your hand drifted down to his cheek as you caressed his face. To say he looked terrible was an understatement.

You fumbled for your D.D.D. desperately hoping that someone would pick up quickly. But who to call? Your mind ran through everyone you knew. Mammon? Barbatos? Diavolo? Perhaps Beel was your best bet. He was dependable. You didn’t want to risk anyone else taking advantage of him like this. Besides there was no way you could drag Lucifer up to bed alone, and Beel was easily as strong as three of you.

You dialed Gluttony, doing your best to not bite your knuckles in worry. Each echoing ring felt far too long… Pick up… Pick up! “Oh, MC, you called at a good time.” The breath that came out of you was almost a gasp. “I’m getting ready to order food since the kitchen is empty. What do you want? I’ll get it for you?” Beel sounded like he was still in the middle of chewing, which probably meant he just now emptied out the kitchen. Now wasn’t the time to worry about that though.

“Beel- Beel! I… I came into the office and… Please come down to Lucifer’s study, I- I need your help! Lucifer- Lucifer he’s…not well.” Your voice shook, doing your best to form comprehensive words aside from the panic. You’d hid the fact that he collapsed to save some of his pride. Even though it would be fairly obvious once Beel got here…

Beelzebub’s tone went more serious. He swallowed whatever food he had left before speaking again. “I’ll be right there.” He hung up.

Now that Beel was coming to help, you felt a bit more relaxed, but not by much. You put your D.D.D. back into your pocket and knelt beside Lucifer’s body. His head was lifted up with your shaking hands, letting him use your lap as a pillow. You brushed away the hair that was now starting to stick to his skin. You’d never seen him like this before, and you were certain that Lucifer would rather die than be discovered like this. Nevertheless you couldn’t help but pet his head.

It wasn’t too long before Beel came in, messy crumbs all over his shirt as he left in a haste. Once he saw the state Lucifer was in, he scanned back over his shoulder. “Mammon is busy arguing with Levi, Belphie is taking a nap, Asmo’s out, and I’m hoping Satan is in his room. Let’s get Lucifer to bed quickly.” He came over and quickly lifted his elder brother up off the floor. It didn’t matter how long you had been around him, any time Beel was able to show of just how strong he was, it left you in awe. “Why don’t you go ahead of us and meet me in his room?” Beel asked. For a second, you blinked in a stupor before you quickly nodded, bolting as fast as your feet would take you up the stairs towards the second floor to his grand master bedroom.

Careful of potential eyes, you looked around for anyone before opening the door. As Beel said, you could hear Mammon and Levi going at it, but they were a few rooms away. You invited yourself inside, leaving the entrance open just a crack so Beel could easily come right in. Now to prep Lucifer’s bed. It was extremely large, entirely unnecessary for one person, but a perfect fit for the Demon of Pride. You took one corner of the silky sheets and folded them aside. Then you waited. And waited. And waited. After what seemed like eternity- but was realistically only a few minutes- both brothers entered the room. You got up and quietly shut the door behind them while Beel placed Lucifer on the bed.

“What do we do now?” you asked. “Should we call a doctor?”

Beel’s mouth tightened. It was obvious he was worried, but he shook his head. “We… can’t. We leave him alone and he’ll probably call someone when he wakes up.”

You stood there, jaw open, not able to fully process the words. “’We can’t?’ W-What do you mean, ‘we can’t’?”

“It’s sort of an unspoken rule… If Lucifer ever gets sick we have to leave him alone. Even just the fact that we brought him up here might get us in trouble.” Beel looked a bit downtrodden.

You stammered over your words. “I- but- we can’t- That’s the most ridiculous and hypocritical rule I’ve ever heard! If it were someone else, Lucifer would have everything covered as soon as possible!”

“It’s mostly to keep Satan and Belphie away… and to make sure Diavolo doesn’t find out. He tends to be a worrier.” Beel explained. He shrugged, glancing over at his brother for a moment as he thought. “I’ll go keep watch over this room. Maybe if you take care of him, he won’t be as upset. Please…take care of him MC.” With that he left, however you could still hear him outside the door, already munching on something as he stress ate.

You nervously paced. Taking care of him sounded easy in theory, but in actuality you had no idea how to take care of a demon. Would it be the same as a human? Probably not but that was all you knew how to do, so it had to be better than nothing, right? So you left the room for just a moment to grab a few things. A glass of water so he could stay hydrated and a bowl of cold water with a soft rag to bring down his temperature.

When you returned to the room, you froze. Lucifer was sitting up slightly in bed, looking disoriented. A relived sigh released all the built up tension in your lungs. “Oh, thank Diavolo… Lucifer, are you okay?” His head swung around at you, eyes a bit wide. He didn’t notice you had entered. “MC… what’re you doing in here? I--” He cut himself off in shock as you placed the cup of water in his hands and the bowl on his nightstand. You got the rag damp, wringing out the excess.

“Do you not remember?” you asked him, raising a hand to put the rag against his face. Embarrassed and clearly overwhelmed, he swatted your touch away and forcefully put the glass back in your hands.

“Enough of this fussing! There’s no need for it.” He scowled, but his dry lips were a bit poutier than he intended. “I don’t know what’s gotten you to believe you needed to come in my room, but I don’t remember inviting you. It’s about time you took your leave.” His tone was stern but his words didn’t have the usual sharp impact they normally did when he was upset. They just sounded tired. Strained. You frowned. You couldn’t tell if he was unaware he collapsed or just glancing over the fact he did. Either way he was clearly lying about being alright. You decided not to bring up the study situation for his pride’s sake, but even with your two fully ordinary human eyes you could tell that he needed to be looked after.

You’d defied him before and hadn’t died yet. Sure there had been close calls, but… what was going against him one more time going to do? “I’m not leaving," you told him.

Lucifer disapproved. His eyes went narrow and air around him grew even hotter. A few more red splotches showed up on his face… “Would you like to say that again? I hope for your sake I misheard you.”

“I’m not leaving you right now, Lucifer.” You stood your ground. Sometimes stubbornness needed to be met with more stubbornness. Lucifer clenched his jaw and stood up. Too quickly. He lost his balance and fell to his knees, clutching tightly the only thing keeping him from falling over. You. He had his face buried in your shirt, his breathing now ragged. Seeing him like this was torture… although there was something about seeing Pride be humbled that gave him further access to your heart. He wasn’t some untouchable distant concept. He was a person who got sick sometimes, just like you. Once more, you ran your hand through his hair, tender fingers rubbing at the pressure points on his scalp. Even him just being this close made you hot. He was a burning furnace. “You’re not well, Lucifer… And I know you won’t ever admit it so you don’t have to say anything, you don’t have to ask, I’ll do the begging, just please let me take care of you. You take care of everyone else, so when you can’t even take care of yourself let me take care of you. Please.”

He didn’t respond, just kept his face hidden. For a second, he motioned as if he was going to push you away… but he pulled you closer, his grip on your clothes getting tighter. Acceptance… You bent down to grab one of his arms to help him get to his feet. His throat cleared as he sat on the edge of his bed. It was clear he had a lot to say, but he kept everything to himself. Lucifer’s eyes wandered, looking at everything in his room except for you. Slowly, you reached towards his neck, taking the stuffy tie off of him. Kneeling down, you removed his dress shoes, tucking them aside. He loosened a few of his own buttons, already looking a little better without so many unnecessary layers. Finally, you took both his hands in your own, feeling the curves of his palms before stripping his hands of their gloves. When he got back inside his bed he turned away from you. Sulking and feeling thoroughly defeated probably. Flustered, if you could allow yourself to think so. You tried hard not to smile. He would absolutely kill you if he knew you thought he was being cute.

With a hand on his shoulder, you urged him to lie on his back. Once he begrudgingly did, you pulled the blankets up to his neck and had the rag in hand again. You ran the cool fabric across his cheeks before folding it up and settling it across his forehead. Then you went over to one of his record players, scouring through his large collection until you found the record that he told you was a favorite of his. And not one of his cursed ones. You placed it on the player, making sure the music was loud enough to be heard but not enough to keep him up. It started with a soft piece, something calm and hauntingly beautiful. Hopefully it would help him relax.

Lucifer already had his eyes closed again, the red in his cheeks gone down from cherry to coral- in other words, just a touch. However, it was enough to make you feel less antsy at his condition. You had been so close to contacting Diavolo, but now it seemed as if you didn’t need to. Since you had just had your hands in the water, they were cool to the touch, so you gently brushed them against his cheek again. This time he moved his head to melt into you. A soothed hum left his throat. He grabbed your sleeve, now looking up at you with an expression entirely different than just a few minutes before. “Please…don’t leave tonight.” His voice was soft and hush, almost as if he didn’t want to hear his own words. You rubbed his cheekbone with your thumb. A shiver ran through his body and it was hard to tell if it was from your touch or from the fever.

“Don’t worry, I won’t. Sleep now.” He shut his eyes and with a large shuddering sigh, he seemed to drift back to sleep. You took the rag, it already warm, and you touched your forehead to his. “Sweet dreams.” You whispered.

Lucifer recovered fairly quickly. What had left lesser demons bedridden for a week or so only had the eldest brother recovering for a handful of days. Now, he had done his best to keep himself isolated, but once his siblings eventually learned how bad off he had been- despite your best efforts to keep it a secret- they all came in on their own time to check on him. At the end of the day, even if they often had each other by the throat, they cared for each other deeply. You had to wonder if the extra unexpected TLC was part of what got Lucifer back up on his feet so rapidly.

Mammon was in and out of Luci’s room pretty frequently. Despite yours and Pride’s warnings, he was determined to do his duty as second in line and take care of his sibling. So, no one was all too surprised when Greed fell ill not even a single day after Lucifer was symptomless. But, what did catch everyone off guard was that Mammon was not the only one who got suddenly sick. Out of every other brother, Satan was also next to fall ill to the Devil’s Cold. Lucifer commented proudly that Wrath had been excellent in his service, bringing him specially crafted potions to lesson pain and bringing him up special meals to restore his vigor. All was revealed much to Satan’s dismay. Apparently it was meant to be a secret. He tried to twist it into some sort of reverse psychology prank, but everyone knew Satan was acting out of worry. So, a proper deed was returned in kind, Lucifer looking after the both of them to the best of his abilities. Such a doting older sibling through and through. Although, despite the rare opportunity to have Lucifer wait on them hand-and-foot, Mammon and Satan were both acting strangely difficult. Satan’s denial of Lucifer’s fussing made more sense, strained relationship and all, but Mammon’s sudden cold stubbornness was rather uncharacteristic. So, while the eldest was busy finishing the two extra workloads of Student Council business, he asked that you check up on the second-eldest.

You eagerly agreed. For not only was Mammon being reserved towards his siblings, but also towards you… It was a sensation you weren’t used to, him being so close to you and all. This would be a good excuse to see him. Approaching his room, you knocked on his door, pressing your ear against the expensive looking wood only to hear a groan from inside. It wasn’t what you would define as a dismissive groan, so you let yourself in. Overhead completely off, extra light from his displays all dimmed, you were left stumbling around in darkness for the light switch. Once you flicked it on, the pained moan you heard before returned, albeit louder this time. Seemed he was sensitive to light at the moment. You bit your bottom lip and flicked his light back off, opting to use the glow from the screen of your D.D.D. instead.

The faint light gave you enough vision to spot giant lump under the covers of his bed. Not a single part of Mammon’s body was exposed. He was all bundled in a ball. You came over, a nice hot drink in your hands in a shiny golden-colored mug. Lucifer had told you that the concoction was good for demons, and among that one of Mammon’s favorites. To you, it just smelled like cinnamon and milk.

You gently pressed your hand over the bed lump, shaking it slightly as you announced your presence with a soft voice. “Mammon, it’s me… Lucifer sent me. I have something for you.”

The blob of blankets shifted, little chirps of discomfort making their way to your ears. He scuttled away from you at first, the blanket pulled tighter around him. It required several minutes of coaxing for him to come out. The covers fell away as he finally sat up in bed, hair sticking up every which way. His black tank-top was sticking tight to his torso, his face devoid of the normal vibrancy it usually held. Not only that, but it seemed the exhaustion had him stuck halfway between his demon and human form. His body marks were present across his body, but they were very translucent. His horns were absent from his head, but you could see his wings tucked against his back. His nails were the sharpness of talons. Normally, his eyes shined at you, little flecks of gold floating in the seas of blue. Now his color was dulled. But at the sight of you, a bit of him perked up. You were a much needed presence. Even if he talked up a big game over text about ‘not needing to see you’, at the end of the day, having you at his side was what he wanted most of all. You could read from his expression that he regretted not having you come in sooner.

You held out the drink for him, and he reached for it with shaking hands. Worried he’d spill it, you cupped your own hands around his, giving him the added support as he brought the rim of the mug to his lips, taking mini sips while giving himself breaks to breathe in-between. You frowned… He was barely able to hold and consume his own drink. When he was done drinking it, you put the half-empty mug aside on his nightstand.

“Th-ank you, huma-hu… MC,” he croaked, his eyelids fluttered and he fell back onto his bed, his face buried in his pillow. He let his hand dangle over the side of his bed, his fingers almost grazing the floor. Your heart ached seeing him in this position… but you secretly had to admit, he was being awfully cute. His tsundere nature was gone, you only wished he didn’t need to be this far gone to be sweet with you. You ran a hand through his crazed hair. A little greasy. He would need to wash up. You’d let Lucifer handle that one. Mammon turned his head slightly, just enough to see you with one eye cracked open. You saw it glisten with tears for a split second before he turned back into his pillow. Lucifer was probably caring in his own demanding way, but you wanted to bet he’d never been treated like this before.

You shook your head a bit at that thought and went about rummaging though his clothes to find a cleaner outfit for him to wear. Lucifer could help him get changed out of those sweaty things later. You folded up a suitable replacement and placed it on his couch, pushing aside empty shopping bags. Then you sat beside Mammon on the mattress, reaching for the rag Lucifer had brought to him earlier. Mammon must’ve been tossing and turning for a while, seeing as it was at the end of his pillow case, threatening to fall to the floor. You dipped it in the bowl of cool water that was left on the nightstand, feeling the feverish warmth dissolve out of it.

“Mammon…Mammon, turn your head,” you asked. He raised up his dangling arm to reach for the covers…and pulled the fabric over his body with a huff. You had been wrong, apparently. There was still a twinge of tsundere left in him. It was comforting, at least, knowing that he still was the embarrassed little demon with that playful attitude you adored. You covered up a small smile with your hand. “Mammon, please. Pretty please? Pretty please with Grimm on top?” You pleaded with him, leaning on him with your own body till he squirmed under your pressure.

“Oi…” he croaked. “Fine…” He shuffled around under his sheets before showing just the upper part of his head, his gaze plastered on anything other than your face. You tried hard not to chuckle, you really did. He was being so stubborn about this. You placed the cool rag on his forehead and heard him sigh. You used a finger to pull down his blankets so you could see his features. You cupped his chin to move his head and guide his gaze towards yours. You stroked his cheek and watched a twinge of color return to his cheeks as he blushed.

“Do you need anything else, Mammon?” You asked him gently. It was a bold move to ask Greed what he wanted. You could only begin to imagine what he’d ask for. Cold cash? A new pair of shoes? A car? At the moment though, you didn’t care what he asked, you’d get it for him if it was within your power…and your budget.

To your surprise, he frowned at the thought of being pampered, apparently. He licked his cracked lips and shook his head. “N-Nah…you can…go.” Had hell frozen over? Was this why Lucifer had asked you to check on him? Was he so miserable right now, he couldn’t even turn to his sin? Or was there something more to it?

“Mammon… you’re not being greedy by letting me help you. I can grab you whatever you think you need. Hell, I’d go fishing in Lucifer’s wallet if I thought it would make you feel better.”

The second-born tried to laugh a little but just ended up coughing. After he wrestled control over his own lungs, he blinked a little, thinking. “Can I…have some water, maybe?” He talked as if this was a new sensation, as if he had never coveted anything in his life.

“Of course. Anything else?” If you managed to poke and prod a little more of his sin to come out, you’d feel a little better.

“I…don’t know…” Poor Mammon seemed pretty out of it, like he was dangerously close to falling asleep, but being forced awake by the sheer discomfort in his body. If you could help him out, he might stop tossing and turning.

“Okay,” you nodded, a little idea illuminating in the back of your mind. If he couldn’t be greedy, you’d be greedy for him. “I’ll be right back with a few things, okay?” His fingers snagged onto the end of your sleeve, upset at the thought of letting you go, but his hand dropped back to the bed. With an assuring squeeze to his shoulder, you left his room.

A quick text was sent to the other residents of the House, requiring a quick meeting in the common-room. You tried hard not to pace as you waited for each brother to trickle in, a curious look on all their faces. Lucifer showed up last, his arms folded but appearing more concerned than frustrated. “I’m assuming this has to do with Mammon,” the eldest chimed in before anything was said.

“Exactly.” Turning your head, you gave each brother a determined look before setting your plan in action. “We’re all putting together a Get-Well-Basket for Mammon!”

A sleepy voice raised a little. “Huh?… A Get-Well-Basket?”

You nodded. “Yeah, you know, like a little assortment of gifts to show someone you care. It doesn’t have to be much, but just grab things you think would make him feel better! Oh, and he likes words of affirmation, so you all have to write a nice note!” A few of them tried to groan, but you were hearing none of it. “Go on! Right now! The master of your pact demands you! Don’t make me use ‘stay’.” The grumbles turned into quick agreements as the able-bodied set off in their quest to prepare their brother a basket. You hurried off to your own room, grabbing an open Akuzon box off your floor, a set of pens and a stack of sticky-notes off your desk. Then you looked around for something to give your precious demon of Greed. A lot of the things you owned… had been bought by him. You guessed you hadn’t realized till now how much he bought things for you. He deserved some nice things back… Not wanting to leave Mammon waiting too much longer, you snagged a nice pair of socks and a crystal you’d bought at a nearby magic shop. They got thrown in the box as you went back to the common-room.

A few other brothers were already there by the time you returned. Pleased with them, you set the box on a nearby coffee-table and handed each of them a pen and a note. “Now, your little letters. Make them nice or I’ll force you do them again!”

Dramatic huffs and puffs were made for the show of things, but they all seemed to really think about something nice to say. “How’s he doing, by the way?” Beel wondered aloud, speaking as he recently entered the room. Different eyes flickered down to the floor. Seems they all were wondering the same thing but none of them knew how to say it.

“Not the best,” you admitted, taking a few of the brother’s gifts and settling them in the reused box. “Which is why I thought this little pick-me-up would do him some good.” The rest of the demons fell silent, finishing their notes and attaching them to their gifts.

“Tell him- Tell him I said to feel better,” Levi sighed, giving you a little wave before returning to his bedroom.

“Yeah! Tell him that if he misses out going to that party with me next week, I won’t ever forgive him!” Asmo’s eyes narrowed at nothing in particular, kissing his note before putting it with his gift. The other siblings had similar sentiments, their well-wishes eventually compiled into one box. You found yourself smiling. This would help for sure. With the box and the water he originally asked for in hand, you returned to his room.

Mammon was sitting up again when you came back, his knees tucked against his chest, his finger tugging at a loose thread on the hem of his blanket. The soft light coming from a book lamp on his nightstand helped you keep from tripping on the floor. When you walked in through the door, you could’ve sworn you saw him smile. His eyes took turns observing you and the curious box in your arms. “Wha’s that?” he wondered, his words slurred slightly.

“It’s for you.” In a few steps, you were back at his side, giving him the water first for him to drink before settling the Get-Well-Basket at his feet. “From me and all your brothers. To make you feel better.”

It was clear he was confused for a good while. “For…me?” But then, that little glimmer in his eyes returned as he started to rummage through the box. He read a few of the notes, scoffing and tossing most of them aside. Whatever they all had wrote had clearly touched him and made him embarrassed. It seemed as if this idea of yours was a success.

“Is there anything else I can get you?”

The demon of greed had to think deeply again before putting the box of gifts on the ground near his bed. He sighed a little, letting his legs leave his chest and go flat under the covers. Mammon hesitated before holding his hand out. “Y…Yo…” Even if he hadn’t fully said it, it was clear what he wanted in his time of need. You.

Something in your chest squeezed. You took Mammon’s hand and pulled him towards you, embracing him in a hug. His weary head rested on your shoulder, his shoulders relaxing, the tension leaving his body as your hand found it’s way between the joints of his wings. “You didn’t have to ask. I’m here whenever you need me. It’s not selfish to want someone by your side when you don’t feel well. And I want to be here...with you.” You could hear his little gasp as you held him, his breathing eventually becoming slower, calmer. With you at his side, he finally had enough peace of mind to relax. “Get some sleep if you can… everybody is waiting for you to get better…”

Mammon was now well on the mend thanks to your efforts. Sprung up like quite the spring chicken with you doting on him. He got his energy back faster than Lucifer did, but his symptoms lingered longer. It was rather amusing actually. Hard to steal stuff while your sniffles give away your location sneaking through the halls. Although, even with two counts of demon-caretaking under your belt and a self-proclaimed gift of healing, you had yet to check up on Wrath. Not to say you didn’t want to, you just… couldn’t. Banned, in fact. Deterred by Lucifer himself. But you just wanted to help. Lucifer was constantly busy, not to mention that his knowledgeable yet vengeful younger brother was expending all his strength that he should’ve used to recover busting the house to pieces in several fever-fueled rampages. It had seemed like the logical choice, and rarely did Lucifer prevent you from keeping an eye on his brothers. So why now of all times?

“He’s being…unreasonable,” was Lucifer’s answer. Out of all the possible reasons, this seemed among the most pathetic. A rearranged ‘because I said so’ with some vagueness sprinkled in. Disappointing.

“If I remember correctly, you were also pretty unreasonable,” you stated, trying to hold back a smirk steadily curling across your lips. He just scowled, glaring you up and down, trying to decide if he abhorred your backtalk or found it endearing. He leaned back in his cushy seat in his study, placing down his much too expensive pen by the pile of work he needed to finish by tonight. Another lecture on getting better rest tickled the back of your throat, tempting you. Recovered or not, he needed to give his body proper sleep lest he fall into another bout of sickness…

“And if I remember correctly, we agreed it would not be discussed again.” His sharp expression softened just a touch, a light shade of pink gracing his cheeks as he recalled how you took care of him in his weakened state. Before he thought about it too hard, he cleared his throat. Staggering hairs were brushed away from his forehead as he folded his arms in front of his chest. It heaved in a sigh. “His body and mind have been considerably weakened, therefore he has little to no control over his anger. He is Wrath, and I shudder to think what may befall you should you try to talk to him right now.” He peered deep into your eyes, taking note of your unwavering stance and stern composition. “And yet I suspect you’re going to go see him anyway.”

Bingo. Your hobby of thrusting yourself into dangerous situations formed another greying hair on Lucifer’s head. With a look equal parts exhaustion and worry, Pride lifted his hand and snapped his gloved fingers. Something in the house shifted. The magical lock placed on Satan’s room was broken for you. Although, Lucifer had to go over some rules, ensuring that, at the very least, Beel would be just outside should anything happen. You were to be whisked out of there at the first trace of danger.

The demon’s door was right in front of you now, and for a second you hesitated. You took a deep breath, clutching to your chest some medicine and a hardcover book from the human world containing old fables. Knowing him, he’d probably read it already, but it was worth a try. You knocked on the door, glancing a look at Beel before loudly stating your presence to the inhabitant of the room. Pushing the door open, you were pleased to find that so far you were unharmed, which was admittedly a great first step.

However, you quickly found yourself awash in a sea of books. A mess in Satan’s room was pretty normal. But this… was on a new scale. Honestly, you were almost impressed. Books and scrolls were haphazardly stacked, covering the floor, basically everywhere. You couldn’t even see his bed, it was hidden somewhere in this labyrinth of tomes. You held your breath, not even daring to breathe for fear everything around you would come tumbling down. The last thing you wanted was to be crushed to death. If the books didn’t kill you, you had a wary feeling Satan might for disturbing his ‘organized library’. So, you carefully weaved your way through slender passageways in the piles before you found, what you assumed, was Satan’s bed.

The reason you could only ‘assume’ is because at this juncture in time it hardly looked like a bed at all. Just a quick glance and it would’ve blended in with any other heap in this room. It was camouflaged with more books, torn pages, binders, pamphlets, a few cat figures, dioramas, etc.. Self reminder to check to see if there were any shows on demon-hoarders in the Devildom…

A jagged green-tipped tail dangled from beneath the bed-pile. It twitched and flicked, sending some novels skidding across the floor. You inhaled deep through your nose.

“Satan? It’s me.”

Satan’s tail whipped across the space between you and the bed. It struck one of the impossibly high stacks of books, sending it teetering and tottering threateningly before it crashed down. If you hadn’t taken a few steps back, you would’ve been one with that pile… You huffed to yourself. Rude… You wanted to help him and this was how he was treating you?

“Satan, please.” A book whizzed past your head and you winced, the sting of a little paper-cut blooming across your cheek. The air in the room was suddenly noticeably hot. You knew these were demons. You knew they were capable of destroying you in seconds, but that didn’t stop your stubborn nature from feeling absolutely offended. And so, as if you had a death wish, you scolded him. “Satan!” You strutted over, throwing the covers back and sending even more clutter to the floor, but at least you could look at him. But a part of you wished you couldn’t.

Teeth were bared as his mouth formed a menacing scowl. Hair was messy and untamed. His eyes were glowing an unnatural green, a lens behind his irises reflecting back at you like a creature in the shadows. A deep resonant rumble emanated from his chest. He looked absolutely feral, but it wasn’t till he pressed himself into the corner of his bed and the wall, knees close to his chest, that you put your fear beside yourself. Yes, at first glance you may have been entirely convinced he was going to tear your throat out, but then you ran your gaze over him a few times… His face was covered in patches of crimson. He was only wearing a green long-sleeved shirt and stripped boxers covered in kittens wearing top-hats. There was a sheet of paper skewered onto one of his horns, and he now was curled up protectively against the wall in a little ball. He was scared.

“Get out,” he demanded. It would’ve been threatening sounding if his lungs didn’t sound as if he swallowed a squeaky toy. He was wheezing, fingertips shaking, his tail protectively curled up against his legs, the tip of it quivering.

To be honest… you wouldn’t leave this room right now for all the Grimm in the Devildom. “I’ll leave after I’m done helping you out a bit,” you assured him, but he didn’t want that answer.

“Get out! Out, out, out!” He clutched another book in his hand and chucked it in your direction with a shout, this time missing you by a mile. You blinked. Was he…having a meltdown?

“Satan, throwing stuff at me isn’t going to make me leave any faster, so cooperate and I’ll be out of here as soon as possible.” You smiled softly at him. Wrath had no retort nor nearby ammo left, so he tucked his face into his knees, letting you get to work. It would take you hours to clean the room, but you did what you could for the moment, tidying up at least the chaos surrounding his bed. How he would’ve slept with that mess on him was beyond your understanding. Or maybe that was one of the reasons why he was being so cranky. Books aren’t exactly great nest material.

You shook off his blankets, puffed up his pillow, and then took a hesitant scan at the medicine you’d put on his nightstand. Lucifer had told you where to get it. Supposedly a powerful medication that tasted as bad as the one taking it felt. It was also administered as a liquid, because for all their power, demons hadn’t made capsules a widespread thing yet. You had no idea how you were going to get Satan to take it.

Maybe being sweet first. “Satan,” you cooed, sitting yourself beside him on the bed while he remained curled up in a tight angry ball. “I have some medicin-“

“No.”

Figures, you were reaching with that one. Maybe begging? “Satan, please, please, please, pleaaaaase take-“

“Bite me.”

You scoffed aloud. He was absolutely, without a doubt, being a brat. On par with Belphie right now. You took a moment to recall how you convinced Lucifer and Mammon. Lucifer was only won over when you stood your ground and told him what to do for a change, challenging his pride. Mammon, you went out of your way to get him things, stoking his greed. With wrath…did you? Time to indulge in a little more sin.

“Satan, I swear to the Father above and Diavolo below, if you don’t quit fighting against me when I’m trying to help you, I’m going to shove this entire freaking thing down your throat till it’s the only thing you can taste for decades!” You raised your voice, shouting at him with a fury in your chest you’d never used before, ever. Especially not against Satan. But, against all odds, you were alive, and instead of smoke coming out of his ears, Satan looked up at you from behind messy bangs. Shocked beyond belief, his mouth slightly ajar, he uncurled himself from his position and sat up slowly, his head looking down.

“Tch.” He puffed air through his teeth, giving in finally. Your attempt, while perhaps mediocre without any demonic snarling and mysterious fog, was successful. You hummed to yourself in glee, taking the cap off the bottle and pouring in the medicine. It smelled God-awful, and you felt sympathy for him, but if it was going to make him feel better, he needed it. You held it up to his lips. He growled in frustration but then parted his mouth to let you pour in the foul mixture.

Already pale skin turned even ashier as the glop slid down past the lump in his throat. He looked like he was going to be sick. He slumped his posture and began to release shuddering coughs that nearly turned to gags. You instinctively put a hand on his back, rubbing up and down along the ridge of his spine. Once he was done with the episode, he sat back up, swaying in his seat back and forth until you held onto him, gently bringing him back down onto his pillow. You moved the hair out of his eyes and sighed in relief. Thanks to whatever magic Devildom medicine had, his redness had already gone drastically down, and he looked fairly calm for now. Mellowed out. Some strong stuff…

His eyelids couldn’t decide if they wanted to be open or shut, struggling to fight sleep. “Rest,” you whispered, getting up off his bed, pulling the covers tighter around him, urging him to go to bed. After you helped him, then you would leave him alone, that’s what you promised… even if you desperately wanted to stay. With a little turn, you picked up the book you had brought with you. He grabbed your wrist before you could even attempt to leave. A tilt of the head, and he sleepily read the cover before letting his hand drop back onto the mattress.

“I bought that…for you,” he mumbled. With a grin, you nodded. He had bought it for you during the adventure to London. It was filled with old fairytales and fables, the authentic gruesome kind, not the kind human kids grew up on. Both had their perks in his mind, but Satan seemed particularly fond of the ones that broke free from the stagnant ‘happily ever after’.

“I brought it here for you to read, but you need sleep. Besides you have plenty of other books here…” Your voice trailed off as you reached for his horn that still had the paper stuck to it. You yanked it free with a light chuckle.

“But…” He wanted to argue, but had no energy left to. “Will you…” Satan started, gripping at his own sheets so tight you thought he would rip holes in them. “Read…to me?” Your heart soared so fast you almost went lightheaded. You sat back down on his bed, fussing over him just a bit more, fixing his messy hair. He groaned as you did but let you do it anyway.

“Of course! I’ll read for you whenever, Satan. Whatever makes you feel better.”

“You…” He almost sounded frustrated, like he couldn’t comprehend how you could be so kind especially after the mood he was just in. Then he settled as you flipped the book open to the first page, recounting terribly sad events with a terribly soft voice. Every so often he’d correct you if you fumbled on a word, or correct the inaccuracies of the story itself, but eventually he went to sleep. His eyeballs moved frantically under his eyelids as he slept. His voice would squeak out some incomprehensible word while he dreamt, his fingers twitching in random increments. You noted that his tail that was draped off the side of the bed was now gently curled against your leg. His demonic appendage was rough, sharp in some places, and yet you could hardly feel it with the way he was holding you now. He was comfortable around you.

You used the stray paper that had been on his head as a bookmark, placing the book back on his nightstand for later. “I guess they all get to live happy ever after this time,” you whispered to him in his unconscious state before you pressed the back of your hand against his cheek. Your knuckles tickled his jawline, making his face twitch closer to your hand. “Sweet dreams, Satan. Feel better.”

Lucifer and Mammon were now considered fully healthy and back on their feet with Satan not too far behind them. For a few days, there was hope that the worst was over. It wouldn’t spread any further. The sound of sniffles and the scent of disinfectant wipes would finally dwindle. But, whenever you hope too hard, things always seem to go in the opposite direction. Hopes were dashed when two people were absent from breakfast one morning, and not too long after Satan had finally returned to the table. The twins had never come down from their shared room. For Belphie, this wasn’t something to stop the presses for. Sleeping in and skipping the morning was his whole shtick. His brothers were usually more concerned when Sloth did show up for breakfast. For Beel, however, to miss any sort of meal? Something had to be wrong.

Putting your fork down, you offered to go check on them. After all, morning breakfast was not the same without the two of them. Lucifer was somehow already out of his chair, gently pushing you back to your seat with a single hand on your shoulder. “Please, let me. If they are sick it’s hard telling how they’ll react. They could just as easily be oversleeping.”

You had wanted to protest, but Lucifer was nothing if not the voice of reason. He was right. You had seen Beel’s hunger-driven rampages before. Demonic destruction wasn’t something to sneeze at- no pun intended. Plus, Lucifer was their brother first-and-foremost whilst you were still just some human that had the luxury of living in their home. That fact and the kinder eyes and soft touch Lucifer had given you had won you over to his words. You could trust him to handle this one… He ambled away from the table, and with a few long steps, exited the room.

Asmo was squirming uncomfortably, audibly whining, clearly disturbed. “I was stupid to think this sickness thing was over! With Beel eating everything down to all your leftovers, it’s no wonder he caught your ugly germs! Then he gave it to Belphie, and next you’ll all give it to me!” He pushed his plate away from him, only having a single bite taken out of his meal.

“You don’t know that they’re sick yet,” Mammon rebutted. “And what do you mean my germs are ugly? Everyone’s are!”

“The likelihood that both of them are ill is high.” Satan sighed, putting down his book he had brought with him. After doing his best to tune them out, it just wasn’t working. He still was weaker than he’d like to be, not to mention drained, but a doctor had confirmed that he was no longer contagious and could continue attending his classes at RAD. “The fridge has been abnormally full and I heard plenty of coughing from Belphie the other day.”

An alarming banging sound came from above their heads, little specks of dust from the ceiling floated down, only just visible in the direct light. As if this proved his theory, Satan gestured towards the noise with a raised hand. He held it up for a moment before his arm dropped into his lap. Another loud crash sounded from above, Satan’s eyelid twitching as Lucifer’s booming voice could be heard throughout the house.

This was enough for Asmo to get up from his spot, shaking his head profusely. “I swear if I catch this thing, all of you are absolutely going to have it, you hear me?!” He choked back a sob and went to leave the room, pulling his sleeve down over his hand as he touched the doorknob.

“Oi, where are you going?” Mammon called after him.

“To take a nice hot sanitizing shower!” The demon of lust slammed the door to the dining hall as you watched more dust sprites dance down from the air. They twirled and pirouetted right over Levi. His nose twitched and he raised his elbow to cover his face as he let out a sneeze.

Levi, the only one who had been quiet this far, finally let out a long groan. He glanced down at his hands fearfully, as if they had been covered with blood. “No… No! No, no, no, I’m sick, I knew it! Of course it would be me! I’m gross and miserable and… do you know how long it takes to fully clean a keyboard?!”

Satan rested his head back in his chair, closing his eyes in annoyance. The ruckus upstairs had gotten worse. It was difficult to tell just from audio alone who Lucifer was wrangling. Maybe both Beel and Belphie at once?… Normally, Satan would work on figuring the little mystery out, but it seemed as if he’d met his limit already. People were fist-fighting, two people were having meltdowns, and it was only breakfast. The intellectual usually had no problem going to classes, enjoyed them more than others actually, and yet the look on his face screamed truancy. “Levi, I doubt you’re sick, you never leave your room,” Satan reasoned.

“I told you all, I think he snuck into my room a little while back! One of my figures was moved! I bet Mammon got his sticky fingers over everything! He gave me the cold!”

Add accusations onto the daily list. They all might end up going though their daily atrocities before lunch today. Now the only three brothers left at the table were verbally sparring, one tense word away from physically— You frowned as your food ended up on the far side of the room along with the table. You thought too soon. Unfortunately, this sort of scenario happened often. So, you excused yourself, knowing none of them were listening, expertly dodging a plate as it whirled past. The dish struck against the wall a few inches from you, luckily not shattering. It clattered to the floor as a waffle slowly slid downwards. While you were still unharmed and food-free, you left the dining room. After wandering the halls trying to find a safe and silent place, you sat yourself on the stone steps of the entryway. You’d just wait for the multiple battles to die down. There was screaming downstairs, crashing upstairs, the whole house in chaos once again.

“Demons…” you sighed. --

Lucifer confirmed it. Beel and Belphie…both of them had caught the cold, and the eldest had spent the past hour or so attempting to force them into taking some medicine. He had succeeded naturally, and you shuddered a bit to think about the sort of tactics he employed, but when all was said and done, he had taken the time to seek you out. It was clear to you that even with all his power and prowess…he was exhausted. With Beel’s physical power and Belphie’s cunning, it seems even Pride had broken a bit of a sweat. There was still plenty of Student Council catchup to be done too… and now he had the twin’s work to start on. He needed a helping hand, and while he didn’t express it bluntly, he did ask for your assistance.

Apparently they were calm now, the medicine lulling and sedating them, so you could see them freely without worry of them tearing you or the house apart. Lucifer still addressed you with a bit of concern. “You’ve been on the brunt of all of this.” On one hand, he appreciated the work you had done. On the other… “I’m concerned for your health. Diavolo was fairly confident you couldn’t get infected, but we still don’t know for certain…” His voice drifted, slightly disappointed in himself, feeling like there was more he should be doing. “Regardless, the last thing we need is for you to fall ill as well.” You persuaded him that if you hadn’t gotten sick yet, you were sure you were immune. You’d been in direct contact with nearly all of them and hadn’t so much as sneezed. Lucifer wasn’t entirely convinced, obviously mentally preparing for the worst of outcomes, but he let you do what you needed to do. And that was taking care of the two youngest.

Homemade soup; the medicine for the soul or so people said. Something comforting and filling yet easy for the stomach. With Satan’s assistance, you concocted the most soothing meal you had ever made. Two steaming bowls were settled on an elegant silver tray and brought it up to the twins room. The door to their bedroom had a golden emblem ingrained in the wood. A moon encircling a sun, resembling the same individual symbols above both their beds. You carefully balanced the tray on your hip for just a moment as you softly tapped your knuckles against the smooth wood. Unlike the other brothers you had cared for so far, someone actually opened the door for you for a change.

Beel looked down at you, eyes heavy and slightly reddened. He was wearing a faded orange t-shirt and some black shorts. Heat radiated off of him in nauseating droves. If you had thought the other brothers had burnt up, nothing compared to Beel’s temperature. Even just standing beside him made you dizzy. As if hellfire was roaring through his veins. His shirt stuck to the skin around his torso, sweat beading down his forehead. His abs and muscles were clearly shown through the fabric, but he didn’t seem to mind. He rubbed one of his eyes with a hand, not even focusing on the soup bowls. “MC, what’re you doing here?”

You lifted up the tray with both hands and presented the meal you made with him. The creamy broth with hearty vegetables and noodles would surely make him feel better. “Soup!” You exclaimed quietly, feeling a mite proud of what you’d created. “You never came down for breakfast so…” You must be hungry, you kept the last part to yourself.

He frowned deeply, being rather dismissive. “I’m not hungry, and Belphie’s asleep.” A simple glance past Beel’s body confirmed that there was indeed a lump in Belphie’s bed. Many lumps in fact. There must’ve been plenty new additions to his pillow collection. “I’m sorry you went through the trouble,” Beel sighed, his arm raised to shut the door. Your attention snapped away from Belphie, back to the demon at hand. Was he shutting you out? Really? He had never done that, ever. All of his other brothers, sure, but him? He always had his door and his arms wide open for you at all times. Your leg served as a quick wedge, feeling your knee temporarily painfully pressed between door and frame. As soon as he realized he was hurting you, the door was thrown back open.

“Beel wait, please, you haven’t eaten all day! How are you going to give your body enough strength to heal if you don’t give it any fuel?” You looked up at him expectantly, trying to convey the care and worry you held for him through your eyes. Beel always advocated for taking care of your body. Those words you shared were the ones he had used on you once before. He was somehow always aware of what you had eaten and when. Same for his brothers. Sure, his sin might take over and he might accidentally eat your food, but he still determined to make sure everyone he cared for was well fed. It was about time you returned the favor.

“But the medicine…” He pressed one hand to his gut, his nose wrinkling up at the mention of food. His normally sturdy legs wobbled as he stumbled a bit, gripping the end of the door-frame for balance. The usual glow in his countenance had gone dull. It broke your heart. Beel seemed to always be strong, always be positive, always have a smile on his face when it came to food and family. Now, he just seemed out of it, eager to head back to bed with both you and proper sustenance on the other side of the door. Curse this tray for occupying both of your hands. You wanted to go wrap him up in your arms and make him feel protected and cared for… even if he was much bigger than you were.

“The medicine might be why you feel sick to your stomach in the first place. You didn’t happen to eat anything before Lucifer gave it to you, did you?” Your words brought his eyes up from staring at the floor and back to you. Orange strands of his hair were freed from the skin on his forehead as he shook his head to your question. An answer wasn’t quite necessary anyway, from the fighting you heard and Lucifer’s brief description, the older brother forced the medicine down both the twins throats before they had a chance to protest. You lifted the tray back up near Beel’s face. The contents of the bowls sloshed enough to almost drip over the edge. “You might feel better if you eat. Even just a little? I… made it for both of you.”

It wasn’t often you attempted to employ the puppy-eyed look. However, it seemed necessary in this instance. All these demons were weak to you, and you knew it. You could only hope it was enough this time… Beel was stuck having an intense internal debate. The door in his hand was creaking open and shut while he decided if he wanted to let you in or not. If he wanted to eat or not… Your heart sank as he seemed to come to the conclusion to prevent you from entering, the door almost clicking back into place to leave you in an empty hallway. If this was what he wanted, could you really change his mind? Just as you were about to leave, the door was pulled back wide open, his eyes a little watery as he made it up in his mind that he could never shut you out like that. Your chest swelled as he let you in, shutting the door quietly behind you.

The room was almost consumed in pitch darkness as soon as the entrance closed. The only light source seemed to be coming from Beel’s side of the room emanating from the screen of his D.D.D. on his nightstand. Crossing the room, you waited until the demon climbed back onto his mattress, sitting up while he pulled the covers over his legs. Not wanting to speak as to disturb Belphie, you extended one finger from the tray handle and pointed at his bed as a question. As he nodded, you settled by his hip, placing the tray on his lap. His blankets were soft, and with a stroke of your hand, you smoothed out some of the wrinkles.

The sight of the soup made Beel grimace at first. He was hesitant, but it was clear he was starving. His sin was tearing him up inside. He was only prolonging the pain. “Is my cooking really that bad?” You frowned, embarrassed, unsure if his reaction was towards your talents in the kitchen or the state of his sickly body.

“No, it’s not that. I just…” Gluttony couldn’t quite find the words to describe what he was feeling. But you understood well enough. You’d been sick before in your life. You knew what it was like to feel the hunger pains alongside the nausea. Eating made you feel worse. Not eating made you feel like hell. He must be miserable. This was probably a rare feeling for him.

“Take it slow,” you whispered, your hand coming up to rub his shoulder.

After taking a minute to mentally prepare, he took your advice to heart, starting with a simple spoonful. He blew away the steam and took the smallest bite- or slurp- you’d ever seen him have. He chewed on some of the softened vegetables before swallowing. There was no need to ask how it was. His head raised back up, small tears making their way down his cheeks. He leaned in towards you, his chin almost resting on your shoulder. “It’s…so delicious. May I…eat it?”

You chuckled, grinning with relief as a little bit of color came back to his face, his expression not looking so pained. Sounded like he was already breathing easier too. “Yes, Beel, I made it for you.”

He sat up away from you, the happy glow returned to his eyes as he went to work not only downing the bowl for him, but the bowl for Belphie as well. You made a mental note to come take care of the other twin later. Hopefully he wouldn’t end up sleeping for days on end like he’d been known to do a few times before… With one of the twins looking already worlds better with some warm food in his stomach, you went to go stand up to leave, but two big arms wrapped around your body to hold you in place. The hot skin on Beel’s cheek pressed against your forehead as he sighed in relief.

“Thank you,” he mumbled.

You rested your head against his chest as he held you even tighter. “You’re welcome, Beel. I’ll be your personal chef till you feel better.”

With a contented sigh, Beel buried his nose in your hair, his hands gripping your shirt. He leaned back against his headboard, bringing you along with him as you almost laid on top of him. It didn’t seem like he was going to let you go anytime soon. He closed his eyes and with one hand he flipped his D.D.D over so there was nothing but blackness in the room. Relaxed lungs brought in deep even breaths. He was still ridiculously hot, but not unbearably so anymore. His words devolved into sleepy mumbles. “You’re so much better than any food in the world…”

The twins were sick, Lucifer was working himself ragged, and the rest of the brothers were avoiding their siblings like…well…like the plague. You never initially intended to become a nurse, but how could you sit by and do nothing while the demons around you that you had come to care for suffered? And, if you were being honest with yourself, you were thankful that there was something you could do to help around for once. It wasn’t often at all where you were put in a situation where you could be the protector, the helper, the one they relied on. However, as much as you liked that feeling, you hoped this spreading sickness would end with Beel and Belphie. The constant care you were dishing out was starting to leave you more exhausted than normal.

Telling anyone about your state though would most likely end in immediate termination of your new career in demon caretaking. So you kept it to yourself. These brothers were now leaning on you harder than ever, including the ones who had already been sick. Just the thought of all their faces, pale and sick in bed, lighting up at the sight of you entering the room as you pet their heads sent tingles down your spine. You wanted to take care of them…all of them, forever.

You violently shook your own head as you gripped the handle to your bedroom. What am I thinking? Is the Florence Nightingale trope really true? The door gently creaked open as you stepped inside.

Eternal moonlight had it perks, but being able to tell time was never one of them. What hour was it now? Your day had been occupied fulfilling several requests from the many members of the household. The typically hungry demon would now only eat food you made for him, and while you did promise to be his personal chef, it was beginning to overwhelm you. Not only chef, but you’d been hired in several other new ‘departments’. You’d become the new mailman, bringing packages from the front door to the otaku with severe hypochondriac tendencies. The librarian and storyteller for the bookworm who was milking his symptoms for as long as he could, partially because he truly enjoyed your company, but also because he enjoyed his brother’s complaints as he kept you to himself. The beauty product tester and fashion assistant for Asmo who refused to let any of his brothers touch him with a ten foot pole. The lawyer for Mammon who was apparently determined to get himself into trouble more so than not lately. And also Lucifer’s new temp secretary. You had so many reminders set on your phone for things he needed to get done. But the eldest was determined not to let things fall apart just because a few of his brothers were ill.

Should you be getting paid for this?…

Tired feet were dragged across the floor of your bedroom as you made your way towards your bed. It called to you; a sleepy siren’s song. The blankets reminiscent of a sweet melody, the pillows the alluring notes. With the last of your energy, you swiftly kicked off your shoes, letting them roll and settle crookedly on the hardwood floor. You let yourself fall face first onto your bed, the springs bouncing you up and down gently from the sudden impact. A moan escaped your lips, one you never had the intention for, but your body betrayed you. Laying down felt nice… Rain and wind outside started to kick up, the sound brushing and pouring against your window. It was like the night was comforting you, the weather speaking to you softly. It’s okay to get some rest.

Without bothering to change into pajamas, you crawled under your covers, pulling the blanket tightly near your face. Muscles and joints in your body started to ache, and you furrowed your brows as you shut your eyes. Had you really worked all that much? What exactly did you do that forced your body to feel this sore? You let out a sigh and brushed your cheek against your pillow. Already, the back of your mind was buzzing with sleep, and even if you tried to come up with some specific answer explaining why your body hurt in places you didn’t even know existed, you wouldn’t be able to. This would probably been the fastest you fell asleep in a long time, conking out without a second thought. —-

Fire haunted your dreams that night, the heat making you lightheaded. Your subconscious body struggled to navigate the obstacles of this place. The House of Lamentation was on fire, by reasons unknown, as dreams often do. You were frantically looking for the brothers, your mind thoroughly convinced they all still resided inside. Lips moved as you could’ve sworn you were screaming their names, but the roaring sounds of the flames muffled your voice. No matter how hard you squeezed your lungs, no sound came out. You felt yourself collapse to the ground, unable to move. You were hot. Too hot. You-

A low scraping noise shocked your body awake. It took you a moment to reel in reality, to settle yourself back into your senses, the dream drifting far behind you now. A squeak sounded. A harsh squealing grind of two hard surfaces rubbing against each other. It left a strange feeling in your teeth and pumped your mind with adrenaline. You sat up in bed immediately, the alarm for danger blaring on high alert.

It was hard to see through all the darkness. Clouds had covered the moonlight, leaving little to no light to guide your way. The only thing you could see with your adjusting vision was a shadow creeping around your room. It staggered. Drifting around as if searching for something, a deep inhuman growl rumbling through it’s disfigured body. Your fingers trembled as the sound echoed in your mind. How had it gotten in the house? There were no distinct features you could make out, the creature didn’t have any limbs. It was one giant blob, dragging itself across the floor, moving and knocking over the chairs in your room as it did so. That must’ve been the cause of the sound that woke you up. Was it hunting for something?…

A few options for survival bubbled up in your mind. Screaming for help wasn’t a smart decision. One loud noise, and the creature would more than likely beeline it straight for you. Besides, with the demon brother’s sporadic schedules, you weren’t sure anyone would hear you anyway. Your room was all the way down near the kitchen…your roommates blissfully asleep upstairs. You had half a mind to text someone to save you, but if you got caught in the light from your screen, that might also cause an instant game over. However, that did remind you to lean over to put your device on silent. You would not be that stupid survivor in the horror trope that got killed due to a notification. Oh, if only you had given in to Lucifer’s odd request to install some sort of security system. You had denied it. Said it sounded more like a baby monitor than anything else. Now look where it got you.

The intruder seemed distracted and confused, just as blinded as you were in the darkness. Maybe you could make a run for it… it seemed rather sluggish. But assuming things could get you killed. But what other options did you have?… Right now, the thing was finally drifting away from the table and towards the middle of the room, inching ever closer to your bed. The luxury of time was not something you had. It was settled. You’d book it out of here and run to someone else’s room… Just look for an opportunity… The wailing mass was getting closer. Just a few more seconds. Your heart was rattling harder than the wind against your windows. Just a little bit farther! Heat was waving off the creature and onto you, reminding you of your dream. It moaned unnaturally, shuffling slowly, wandering without a purpose. You quietly swung your legs over the end of the bed so you could finally make your dash to freedom. The blood pumping through your head was deafening.

A thud reverberated throughout the room, making you jump, freezing your body in place. The creature had collapsed on your floor. It slowly squirmed, writhing, it’s shape melting away before a humanoid hand poked out of it’s frame.

“O…w…”

The familiar voice washed over you in a refreshing shower of familiarity. You pressed a hand to your chest as you took in a deep relaxing breath. Although you didn’t waste too much time before rushing to the floor, kneeling beside the shape. The shell it had shed felt soft. You grabbed the surface with both of your hands, peeling it back to reveal a confused disoriented demon.

“Belphie…” You nearly went off on him, ready to spend the rest of the night giving him a Lucifer-style lecture. But, too tired to do something like that, you simply wrapped your arms around the seventh brother. Eyes rolled in your head, embarrassed and annoyed by your own paranoia and stupidity. Although that sort of paranoia had let you live in the Devildom thus far. That and a ridiculous amount of luck… Though if the other brothers found out you mistook Belphie and a puffy duvet for some sort of lumbering undead slug-monster, they would never let you live it down. Speaking of which…you suddenly remembered that he’d taken quite a tumble. “Are you okay?” He never answered, but you quickly found the source of his fall. The shoes you had left haphazardly on the floor. You bit your lip in a bit of shame. Before they could claim another victim, you snagged your shoes and tucked them away in a not so trippable place. Then you returned your focus near the lump. “Belphie? What’re you doing here?” You placed a soft hand on his shoulder, although as you did, you nearly reeled back. Sloth was burning up.

“…anna…o…ome…” He mumbled, not focused on you at all, his eyes were even still closed. Chipped nails clawed at your rugs, pushing himself on his arms just to collapse again. Your chest squeezed as you grabbed his arms. Convinced he was still asleep, you tried shaking him, feeling the palms of your hands tingle against his unhealthy and infernal temperature.

“Belphie!”

None of your attempts to wake him up were working, so you turned your attention to the only thing you could do. Bringing his heat down. The blanket you had tried tugging off of him was somehow twisted around his limbs. After turning him on his back, you worked on unraveling him, feeling his hands paw at your body. He was deep in some fever dream, one bad scene away from thrashing… Frantically, you plucked a pillow from off your own bed and tucked it under his head. You brushed sticky strands of hair off his forehead, watching him mumble some more.

“..illith…Beel…”

Might as well have heard your own heart crack right then, but you couldn’t let it get to you. Feeling against the walls, you moved around your room till you found the light switch. Once you could see, you went right to work. Thankfully, due to your efforts before, you now kept extra medicine and supplies in your room. It was actually Satan who suggested it, and while you thought it had been a silly idea, now you were grateful.

When you returned to Belphie’s side with all your items, you almost regretted turning the light on. Panting, his mouth open to try and breathe, lips so dry they were nearly bloody. His skin was covered in splotches of color, sweat dripping from his forehead, yet he couldn’t stop shivering. You placed a bowl of water, rags, medicine, bottles of water, and a glass of only ice beside you on the floor. As soon as you returned to his vicinity, his limbs moved to get up again. You settled a rag in the water then gently pushed him back to the floor with a single hand. He contorted and attempted to roll as you quickly wrung out the rag, pressing it against his forehead, keeping him against the ground using your own body. In only a few seconds, the cloth was completely warm. You dipped it back in, feeling a bit of panic rise in your lungs as Belphie continued to pant.

“Breathe…Belphie, breathe.” You rubbed his chest as you held him down, cooling off his face and neck with the damp cloth. You didn’t know how long you kept up this motion. Comfort, dip, cool. Soothe, wipe, cool. Over and over as the fire in him refused to leave. He needed to wake up to take the medicine, you weren’t sure you could get it down his throat in this condition. You let your hand drift from his chest for just a second to check your D.D.D. It was now four in the morning. A full hour of this, by your estimations. Should you text someone? Were you doing the right thing? Were you just making things worse? You fought with yourself and your emotions for a few more minutes, but then felt your worry assuage. It seemed as if he broke though the worst all in a second. Belphie’s breathing wasn’t as ragged as he no longer gasped for breath. He was still moving a bit though, wearily and weakly.

“Ahh…haah…” He wheezed, and for what felt like the hundredth time, you rubbed his cheeks with the wet fabric, brushing your hand back and forth across his chest. He raised his arms and grabbed your shirt and sleeve, trying to pull you close in his sleep.

“Shh, it’s alright.” His hands were trembling against you, but finally, he seemed to hear your words. The smallest slit of his eyes was visible as he did his best to open them.

“M…C…”

Overjoyed tears stung your eyes. The rag in your hand dropped to the floor as you caressed his face with your hands. He still wasn’t quite awake or aware, but he was attentive enough to try to pull himself up, still clutching tightly onto your clothes. The first thing on your mind was medicine. You filled up the measured cap and brought it to him, tilting his head back with the brace of one of your hands. Thankfully--or perhaps worriedly--he took it without questioning it. He grimaced a little, but the bitter and awful taste of the medicine brought him more into reality.

“Where?” He released your sleeve as he rubbed his eyes.

“That’s not important right now, can you stand? We should get you to bed.” You stroked his head, but he didn’t even seem to notice. He just nodded, and with your assistance, he almost managed to fully stand. To keep from falling over, he leaned his body against you. It was all you could do to keep from collapsing yourself. Fortunately, your bed was right here, and you let him plop into your space. A sigh left his shallow lungs.

With what little energy he had left, he practically clawed himself towards the far side of the bed turning in several agonizing increments to face you. He held out his hands and squeaked out your name. “MC…”

Your emotions hitched in your chest as you watched him beg for you. There was still a mess on the floor… but you left it where it was as long as the universe was done sending demons tumbling through your room. You rushed over to the light switch and turned the brightness off. You slid into the extra space Belphie left for you, taking him into your arms and feeling him immediately get comfortable. At least he was no longer boiling. He was a little too warm, but nothing life threatening.

He curled up by your side, as you pulled up the covers over both of you. With a few sleepy nudges, he had his head tucked under your chin. You could hear air rattle around in his chest, so you reached around his body and rubbed his back, and in return, he squeezed you like one of his many pillows. All at once, the adrenaline and panic left your body, leaving you winded and exhausted. You were unsure if it was Belphie’s Sin or simply your body at it’s breaking point, but you couldn’t keep yourself awake any longer. Before you could make sure he fell asleep first, your eyelids crashed closed as you passed out next to him.

Normalcy slowly began to trickle back into the House of Lamentation. The twins were feeling better, most everyone was returning to classes, routines were falling back into place. Everyone was finally convinced this was all over. Even Lucifer, who liked to account for the worst, was acting rather optimistic lately. Although you yourself, who had loved soaking up every sickly cuddle and embarrassing (and rather blackmailable) favors, was secretly a bit disappointed. It was great that they were all doing better! But…perhaps part of you liked feeling needed.

Lucifer, Mammon, and Satan, were all well past this illness, and with Levi and Asmo doing everything they could to avoid their siblings, it was assumed that this misadventure had burnt itself out with the twins. Although, one person in the household was determined not to let this go. Levi was doing his best to convince everyone that he was extremely ill.

“I searched my symptoms on SpiderWeb MD! If I’m not sick I’ve been cursed and I only have a few days left to live!” he would complain. His siblings were all convinced that Envy had caught nothing but a terrible case of hypochondria. At one point, he’d even sent his last will through the group chat should he perish an untimely demise. A lot of his stuff went to you, which was deeply touching considering he had a hard enough time letting you look at his stuff much less touch it. Music records would go to Lucifer, manga to Satan, cosplay outfits to Asmo, his special snacks to Beel, and his body pillows to Belphie. Nothing was left for Mammon, which caused a small riot in itself.

It had been several days since anyone had seen or heard any trace of Levi. Everything he needed could be ordered on Akuzon, and he’d been taking classes exclusively online. It got to the point where everyone had been certain he’d never leave his room again. Of course, the eldest had checked on his little brother regardless, but he’d been written off with a clean bill of health. After that, Lucifer had been convinced he was just craving attention. Levi would hole himself away over the vaguest sign of symptoms and not come out till he was ready. No one believed him. For a while, they had you convinced as well, assuring you that he hadn’t been sick for centuries. There was nothing to be worried about. However, you still carried that worry with you, that infuriating kind of angelic trust that drove the brothers crazy. But ‘what if’, you wondered, what if he’s sitting in his room right now with no one to help him?

The only semblance of interaction you’d had with Levi in the past week was dropping off his Akuzon packages to the front of his door. You’d knock, be forced to ramble off an impossibly confusing password, and then leave for him to drag his packages inside. The first time you’d done it, you’d waited, only to watch him pop his head meekly out the door. Upon seeing you, he squeaked and promptly slammed the door shut. Now he would wait for you to fully depart before grabbing his loot. But today, you were determined to see him. Sure he was a demon, sure everyone had promised he was fine, but something left you uneasy. You needed to see with your own eyes that he was okay.

Making your way down the hall, continuously shifting your arms to keep things balanced, you approached Levi’s room with several packages in hand. The number of items he purchased was getting larger and more concerning with each delivery. Seeing as your hands were occupied, you gently kicked his door three times with the tip of your shoe. You crouched down low near the floor, placing his items neatly in a pile. Stiffly, you uttered the strange password Levi encouraged you to memorize to confirm the drop-off and assure him there was no one else in sight.

“The water dragon, caretaker of the mystic lakes, looks up to the heavens…” You paused, waiting for his response. A few seconds. Then a minute. You couldn’t help but raise a brow as a little jolt went through your chest with worry. Typically by now, Levi would be in the middle of his segment of the password. This all was routine. Taking a few steps forward, you pressed your ears to the cold wood of his door. All was silent. From the top? You walked a few steps away just to round the door again, making your footsteps heavier, louder. Then you attempted the entire process again. Using your fist this time, you knocked loudly against the entrance to his fortress of solitude. Uttering the incantation once more, you found yourself almost shouting the code phrase. There was still no response.

Throwing caution to the wind, you gave yourself access into his room. You winced once the light from inside hit your face, expecting some sort of curse or hex to flood your body. Air soothed your lungs when you discovered you were relatively unharmed. It didn’t require any amount of searching to locate the demon. Curled up, in demon form…at the bottom of his fish tank. Of course, you knew these people were not quite people, but that didn’t stop your stomach from flipping and your human brain to somersault over itself in panic. That wasn’t normal! You stammered over your words, dashing forward to press your palms against the glass.

“Levi! What the-” You cut yourself off as you looked around for anything that could assist you with this…emergency. Underwater! He was underwater!

How many times have you been scolded for acting before thinking? Too many to count, especially down here where the wrong misstep could kill you easily. Did you still end up jumping into the fish tank? Yes. Yes, you did. Using Levi’s desk and shelves, you climbed up, throwing your body into the water. It wasn’t as cold as you expected it to be based on how chilly Levi kept his room. It was a bit nippy, but nothing terrible. You sunk down, grabbing the horns sticking from Levi’s head. God, how were you going to pull him out of here? This tank was the size of his wall! As soon as you began to tug on the horns, Levi’s eyes snapped open. His tail wrapped around your waist once he recognized your face. You ended up getting flung out of the tank, dangling in the air a few inches above the ground as the chill of the oxygen on your wet skin formed goosebumps all over your body. Levi gripped the edge of the glass.

“What?! I-I- that was totally- MC! I can’t believe-” He settled you to the ground as he climbed his way out of the water, almost slipping and falling from the tank. A large pool formed on the floor beneath your feet. As he tried to find his words, gasping in shock at finding you in Henry 2.0’s tank, he started coughing. He bowled over, his arm covering his mouth as his lungs squeaked and wheezed as he seemed to cough uncontrollably. Levi’s chest began convulsing so painfully, tears started speckling from his eyes, only to get swept up into the moisture already streaming down his face. His tail, still around your body, clutched to you tighter, like an involuntary form of comfort for him.

“Levi…” You approached the demon of Envy, both of you dripping wet, and you pressed your forehead to his. Despite having soaked in water for however long he had been in there, he was burning. His little gasp at your form of contact drove him further into his coughing fit. You apologetically rubbed his back, helping him catch his breath while you scrambled around to get dry clothes, nearly losing your footing on the wet tile.

“Don’t!” He pleaded with you as you pulled open his drawers.

“You need dry clothes, you’ll get even sicker if you’re soaking!” His face started to flush as some color came to his cheeks. He had yet to relinquish his tail from around your person, wrapping around you tightly like the firm squeeze of a hug, following you around like a drenched puppy. “Why in the world were you in the fish tank anyway?!” A proper scolding was in order. After all, how ridiculous had that been? “I was worried you’d drowned…” You muttered that last part to yourself as you plucked out a t-shirt with the decal on the front from some anime you couldn’t recall. A random pair of shorts was added to the mix, throwing the dry outfit to him alongside a much needed towel. Clutching the articles of clothing to his chest, he blushed even harder. The muscles of his tail forced you to turn with your face to the wall as you felt the soft scales finally slink away. You could hear him stumble around as he struggled to get himself dressed. He wasn’t acting like normal.

At that moment, all the guilt that had been building up these past few days washed over you. He really had been sick after all. How long had he been here alone, taking care of himself because no one would believe him enough to take care of him? But Lucifer had said he’d been checked… Did he get sick after that? Or was there something someone missed? Although, the when didn’t quite matter now. No chance fretting too much over something you couldn’t change. You had the chance to help him now.

“I was hot…” Levi answered, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Then next time hop in the bath! Don’t go scuba diving in a fish tank! A fish tank, Levi!”

It was as if you could feel him wincing at your firm words. It wasn’t often you raised your voice at them. Envy wasn’t taking the tone too well, shuddering as he inhaled broken quivering breaths. He didn’t have an answer for you on why he made the decision he did. Rationalization probably went out of his mind once the fever set in. Had he really been that hell-bent on not leaving his room? “You can…look now.” Turning away from the wall, you found yourself tutting. Levi had put the clothes over his wet form, the towel simply lying on top of his head, the horns holding it comically up away from his body.

“…I should’ve been here to help you.” You placed your hands over the dry cloth, getting it away from his branching horns, gently rubbing into his skin. Too weak to shoo you away or say anything about it, he simply covered his face with his hands as you used the towel to dry him off. “But I’m here now…and you don’t have to worry as long as I’m here. I’ll take care of you.” You started with his hair, working your way down to his arms. Your gentle motions, your soft tone, your overall comfort, it was enough to weaken his walls of anxiety. A few steps and he was right next to you. He slumped, letting his head fall into the crook of your neck. Your skin was still cool from the water, and he sighed as his forehead came into contact with it. His tail ended up curling around you once more, clutching your torso tightly as he gripped onto your clothes. “Come on,” you urged him, leading him over to his bedding. It was better than the fish tank only by a small margin, containing a ton of pillows and several plush blankets to act as a cushion inside. At least it was dry…

“Sorry…” Levi gasped, as he lifted himself into his nest. The tickle of his word turned into more harsh coughs. You leaned over the porcelain walls of the tub to pet his head. He nearly melted into your hands. He curled up, nestling further into the cushions as you pulled a blanket partially over him.

“Don’t be sorry. I should be sorry. I shouldn’t have doubted you, I should’ve been by your side by square one. That’s what people who care about you do…” You gave him a sweet smile as he teared up a little, pulling a body pillow close to his chest as he covered his face. He simply gave you a hum in response. “I’ll go get some medicine and bring in those packages for you, and then I’ll be right back.” Taking a step back, you felt the tail wrapped around your body gripping you tighter. “Levi,” you cooed, petting the smooth scales with your hand. “I’ll be right back, let me go.” He reluctantly complied, silently pulling his tail into the tub with him, curling around his own body for support. Running your fingers through your still wet hair, you went back out to the hall, dragging Levi’s packages into his room before setting off to grab some medicine. A quick sneeze shuttered your body, leaving you lightheaded as you leaned against the wall to keep yourself upright. A chill ran through your spine. Shaking your head, you picked up the pace to your bedroom to change into warm and dry clothes.

As soon as you were no longer dripping, you grabbed the medicine bottle from off the table in your room. Collectively, the household had almost gone through the entire container, leaving only a few servings left. You bit your lip and then briskly headed back to Levi. In the short amount of time you’d been gone, it seemed as if he already drifted off to sleep. You shut the door behind you as softly as you could manage, then came over to the sleeping otaku. All these demons, you recalled, claimed to be so scary and intimidating, yet all of them managed to look something like this. Levi was clutching his tail, his forehead pressed against the coolness of the side of the tub. It felt like a crime to wake him, but you brushed your hand against his cheek anyway.

“Levi… Levi?” You called, watching his eyelids flitter as they slowly opened. “Here, take this, it’ll help you feel better.” You held a capful of the remedy to his lips. A flicker of stubbornness and defiance flashed in his eyes, but he knew he couldn’t say no to you, especially with how nicely you were treating him. He’d take it with a smile if you had asked him too. Placing the medicine aside, you turned down the lights in his room, watching the reflection of the water dance across the ceiling. “Is there anything else I can do for you, Levi?”

You heard him squeak before he spoke. “You cuddled with each of my brothers…”

Stifling a chuckle, you merely blinked at him. “You want me to cuddle with you?”

He used his arm to cover his eyes. “Y-you said it, not me!”

“Move over then,” you grinned, lifting your leg over the lid of the tub to make your way in. It was a bit awkward, being a bathtub and all. There wasn’t as much space as you expected. The sloped sides guided you into Levi’s body, where you could feel every muscle inside him tense. “Alright, here we go, sleep will make you feel better.” You rested your head right next to his, noses almost touching. His lip twitched in embarrassment, but once more he pressed his forehead against your neck, exhaling deeply as he allowed his body to relax. “There you go…” You rubbed his back as he got in close. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Time as Levi’s nurse passed fairly quickly. Apparently regular doses of constant attention was the best kind of medicine for a touch-starved demon. He was still weaker than anyone would enjoy, but he was back in front of his screens in no time. Although, every so often he’d give you a side glance and rattle his body with a loud cough. Sometimes he would do this and cause the other previous afflicted to do the same. You’d even caught Lucifer clearing his throat in your vicinity once. They were all milking this to the last drop. Aside from the pseudo-symptoms, at last, it was all over. Surely, tonight you’d finally let your sore exhausted body get some rest with the relief in knowing that whatever demon illness had been plaguing the brothers was finally gone… Even cases in the Devildom were dropping. The whispers at RAD were returning to normal discussions. The worst was over.

That was… until everyone in the House of Lamentation was awoken one night to a blood-curdling scream. You awoke in a sweat, hair on your arms standing up on end. Before you could comprehend anything, you dashed out to the hallway, apparently the last to join the stunned members of the household. Mammon was still attempting to find balance on his feet, cursing about one of his legs being asleep. Levi rubbed his eyes, and you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. He was supposed to be regaining his strength. Satan looked more intrigued than anything. Beel was ready for action, but, surprisingly enough, Belphie looked more awake than anyone before you. These were his hours, you supposed. Lucifer was a strange combination of furious due to having his rest be interrupted--he barely gets enough as it is--and concerned.

“MC…” The eldest instinctively took a step towards you. “Oh, thank Diavolo,” he sighed, pressing his hand to his forehead, quelling the stress headache, thankful you weren’t the cause of the haunting wail. “We’ve got…” He began the head check, ushering his brothers closer to him much like a teacher making sure the whole class was there for the field trip. The realization hit you at the same moment it hit him. “Asmo.” No one hesitated in dashing to his room, the adrenaline pumping in you more as the sound of shattering glass and splintering wood reached your ears. Worry clamped your throat shut, forgetting how to properly breathe as the group sprinted down the halls.

Mammon was the first to reach the door, throwing all caution to the wind as he immediately kicked the wood in. The entrance hit the floor with a loud bang, coming clean off it’s hinges, and you attempted to peer in. A firm hand grabbed you by the back of the collar and yanked you back. Lucifer pulled you behind his body. Just in time too, for just at that moment, an entire dresser launched itself from the bedroom, smacking against Mammon, pinning him against the back wall of the hallway. Every square inch of you was desperate to scream, to run to Greed, but the demon of pride had you held tightly against his body. Mammon got up off the floor, shaking his head. There were no visible injuries, in fact, he was barely even bothered, just frustrated.

“For the love of... Asmo!” The second brother growled, and another shriek echoed through the halls, shaking the windows. You brought your hands up to cover your ears, and Lucifer quickly handed you off to Levi.

“What’s happening?” The strength of your legs began to waver, and, for a split second, the eldest’s eyes grew wide at your distress. Of course you wouldn’t know, how could you? Sometimes he forgets you’re only a human.

Placing a gentle hand on your head, he let out another sleep-deprived groan, pinching the bridge of his nose whilst his siblings dashed into the chaos. “It’s what we all feared. Asmo has fallen ill. It happens once every few centuries, and every time it happens, it gets—“ Something else broke to pieces, shrapnel embedding itself in the door-frame. A mess. “Stay with Levi. We’ll work on calming him down.” With that, he turned and swiftly joined the fray. A swirl of blue magic surrounded the door, lifting it from it’s position, settling back against the frame to shield you out while shouts and bangs rattled the ground. All you could do was blink in frightful awe and flinch at every awful sound.

“C-come on, it’s best if we go…N-now. Like, right now,” Levi breathed, his voice shaking with terror. You raised an eyebrow, trying to piece together why he sounded as if he was in danger.

You didn’t have the time to question why. The wall separating the room from the hallway nearly crumbled, bricks and rubble coating the floor. Peachy eyes glowed harshly against the dark of night. “Levi…” The figure growled maliciously as the dust settled. “You did this to me…you all did this to me!” Ah, right. Of course the blame would lie with the most recently infected. And now you were standing right next to the target.

“Oi!”

In a swirl of motion, demons rushed to tackle him down, but not before the person behind the destruction began to lunge in yours and Levi’s direction. The third-born twisted his body, beginning to pull you behind him to shield you, but your body moved almost on its own. Tugging yourself out of Levi’s grip, you moved forward with an outstretched arm. “Asmo!” The palm of your hand came into contact with his chest. You felt the frantic beating of his heart. Everything seemed to stop all at once. The rampage put itself at pause as Asmo looked at you with wide eyes, his hands still raised, razor sharp claws atoms away from brushing against your skin. With your hand on his chest, you could tell that he’d stopped breathing. You took this moment to observe his face. Nose red, eyes puffy from angry tears, overall looking drained, missing vibrancy. The glimmer you so often associated with Asmo was gone.

The demon of lust took one last moment to recollect his thoughts, gathering back his composure before giving a loud horrified gasp of a breath before his knees gave out, his body collapsing to the floor.

--

“Absolutely, positively, one of the worst decisions you’ve ever made!” You’d beg to differ, there was a list of misadventures you could bring to the table, but now was definitely not the time for that. “Did you even think?!” You tried to open your mouth but were cut short. “Don’t answer that.” Good call. Lucifer looked beyond frazzled, and as you watched him pace back and forth in front of you, you wondered if those were new grey strands in the fringes of his hair or if it was simply your imagination. He’d been stepping back and forth for so long, you’d almost gotten dizzy from the motion. Perfectly on beat. A living pendulum.

But Lucifer wasn’t the only one here to…critique your…survival response--or questionable lack thereof. “What do you do when you see an angry demon? Hm?” Real rich coming from Wrath. Satan’s eyebrow was twitching, but he was doing his utmost best to stay calm unlike his older brothers.

You lowered your head. “You run.”

“What do we not do?”

“…Confront them.” The blonde nodded, leaving it at that for the time being. With a quick scan around the room, he tilted his head and sat in a chair, biting back one of his usual retorts. Typically, he wouldn’t hesitate to be snippy, especially considering his sibling’s current behaviors, but he didn’t have the heart for it. Not right now when he was focusing hard on suppressing the bubbling rage of what he’d just observed. Levi was a dazed mess, sulking at his failed job as a bodyguard, slung over Beel’s shoulder, muttering endlessly. The demon of gluttony himself had yet to peel his sight from you since you’d been dragged back to your room. Had he even blinked? It was as if he was wary that, should he look away, even for a moment, you’d do something reckless again. To be fair, logically, what you’d done had been a rather idiotic move. In your defense, it was also dipping well past the early hours of the morning. It all still felt like a dream. They couldn’t hold it against you for not being at your peak… But, they were right. Had Asmo not been able to stop himself, who knows what the outcome would’ve been. You still weren’t quite sure of everything that had happened, but something had moved you, convinced you that if you just…reached out to him…

Turning your head to the side, you brushed your hand over the bump in the blankets where his arm was. As soon as he’d collapsed, both you and Asmo were briskly brought to your room. You’d been able to assist in tucking him under your covers for only a moment before being scolded six different ways. Belphie placed a fresh cold rag over Asmo’s forehead, meeting your eyes for just a second before snapping his head to look away from you with the slightest hint of a disappointed pout in his lips. Even the bratty youngest sibling was chastising you. And Mammon…Mammon was…dead silent, still as a stone, back turned to you as he pressed his face against the wall. If anything, that upset you the most.

Speaking loudly as to regain their attention, you apologized. “I’m sorry! I know it was dumb of me, but…” Asmo’s eyebrows scrunched, a painful moan rumbling in his throat. You adjusted your seated spot on the bed, sitting closer to his body, settled by his thigh. Placing your hand over the comforter covering his chest, you stroked up and down in a slow soothing rhythm. His head moved to find a cooler, more comfortable spot on the pillow, and with the comforting motion against his body, he went still with rest again. “He sounded heartbroken.”

The room fell silent, Lucifer stopped his pacing. Everyone’s shoulders slumped, and then finally Mammon spoke up. “Heartbroken?! That scream meant nothin’! He’s just being dramatic over his dumb face! Losing control like that…almost hurting you because he doesn’t look photo-ready… Nothing’s worth getting yourself killed over! Nothing!” Mammon’s words… sunk in the deepest. Or his tone did at least. He was truly upset with you. Lucifer raised his arm a bit towards Mammon, signaling to settle down. Mammon scoffed and turned again, letting it go.

“Okay… I get it… but enough worrying about me, you should be worried for your brother.” The fire of conflict was quickly snuffed out by your shining eyes and Asmo’s little whimpers.

Lucifer rolled his head around his shoulders and then rubbed away the little pang behind his temples. “I’ll go let Diavolo know of the situation. I’m sure after the last few weeks he won’t be surprised…” He grumbled something under his breath one last time before he left the room, D.D.D. in hand.

“I suppose I can do my best to help clean Asmo’s room. He might recover quicker in a familiar environment.” Satan got to his feet, stretching, cracking an eye open to look at Mammon before grabbing him by the back of his shirt. “And you’re going to help me.”

“O-oi! Why me?! Hold on! I haven’t said everything I needed to yet!” But his cries were ignored as the demon of wrath dragged him down the hallway.

Now you were left with the afflicted, the twins, and a still sorrowful Levi. They might not listen to you at the moment, but you had to try. “Beel, can you please take Levi to his room? And Belphie can you please make sure he goes to sleep?” The fiery-haired sibling nodded, shifting his older brother to his other shoulder. Belphie still had his head turned away from you. Your heart fell a bit. “Pretty please?”

He made the mistake of getting a quick peek of your pleading face. “You have to come with us.”

“But, we can’t just leave him.” You brushed the back of your hand against Asmo’s cheek, reeling back as the heat from him almost burnt you. Demonic bodies could reach some serious temperatures.

This only convinced Belphie to squint harder. “He’s dangerous.”

“You’re all dangerous and yet apparently it doesn’t seem to phase me anymore.” At times like these, you found standing your ground and just being stubborn was enough to win you plenty of debates with these eternal beings. Although you didn’t want to push your luck too much. They could physically remove you from the room if they so desired. Luckily, Belphie was much too tired to continue bickering.

“Fine, but you owe me.”

You beamed, coaxing a touch of pink in his cheeks. “Thank you!” He slinked away, his twin following after him with Levi in tow.

A frown stretched over your face. With the added noise gone, Asmo’s shallow wheezing breaths were all too apparent. You got to your feet, flipping the rag draped across his head to the other side, then padded over to the cupboard settled against the far side of the room. It opened with a slight squeak, causing you to wince as you glanced back over your shoulder to make sure your patient was still sleeping. Luckily, he didn’t stir, although for this to work, he might have to. You gripped the medicine bottle in your hand, giving it a slight shake. There was enough for perhaps one or two more administrations. Before you dealt with that issue, you quickly went to turn off the overhead light in your room, simply turning on a side lamp, a soft glow illuminating what you needed it to. Your eyes thanked you for the lessened strain. As you turned on the pads of your feet, you noticed Asmo was now on his side, facing away from you. With a few quiet steps, you were back at the bedside. “Asmo?”

Your fingers outstretched, reaching for his shoulder, but he would not let you near him. “Don’t look at me!” The voice was strong enough to push you back, falling back onto the floor. A high pitched noise caught your attention. The glass in your hand as well as your mirror on the other side of the room had a new thin crack in it.

The heart in your chest was pounding, but you tried to shake out of it. “Asmo, fighting me is taking up your strength.” Cradling the medicine bottle against your chest, you got back to your feet.

Asmo pulled the covers up over his head. “Don’t look at me, don’t look at me, don’t look at me!” You’d shifted your stance beforehand to keep your balance, the wave of magic wobbling you, but not knocking you over. The lights flickered, and with it, you caught an idea.

“What if I turn the lights off? I won’t look at you, okay? I just want to help you feel better.” Keeping your sight on him, you walked backwards. As your hip met the furniture, you swiveled to turn the lamp off. It just so happened to be cloudy tonight, the dark clouds coating the moon, again, much like the night Belphie had sleepwalked into your room, only now you were the one stumbling towards the figure in the bed. You walked forward slowly until your knees came into contact with the mattress. Even here you could feel the rolling waves of heat come off of him. “I can’t see a single thing, I swear. Not even my own hand in front of my face,” you whispered to him, your arm waving in the air till you found his body. He was letting you touch him, that was a good sign. It took a moment before you found his shoulder, gently guiding him to lay on his back. You trailed your touch up to his neck before coming up to lightly touch his face. Hot moisture coated your fingertips. For a second, you thought it was sweat, but then you heard the demon take a shaky inhale as his body hitched. Panic struck your body all the sudden, your thumb brushing just under his eyes. “Are you crying? Asmo, no… No, no, no, it’s okay.”

He whimpered, leaning into your touch. “I- I- I- I’m sick and- and unsightly--”

“Hey, hey,” you cooed. “Take a deep breath.” He followed your advice, his chest shuddering. “I’m sorry you’re sick…but we can’t change that now. We just have to focus on getting you well again.” Reaching around to support the back of his head, you helped him up into a slouched position. Although, you struggled to find his hand. When you did, his fingers instinctively went to curl around yours. You hated to disappoint him by replacing your grasp with the medicine bottle. “This should help. I’d, uh, take about half of it.” He took it away from you, and you assumed that he’d brought it to his lips. It was a few seconds before the smooth glass touched your skin again. Taking it back in your possession, you discovered it was a lot lighter than you expected. Moving it around in your hand, you felt no liquid slosh inside. “I said half, Asmo!”

“There was hardly anything in there and I need what I can to go back to my beautiful self!”

“That’s not how--” You sighed, letting the empty bottle settle on the floor. “No one is pretty when they’re sick, but that’s okay. It’s alright to be unsightly sometimes.” The mattress bobbed as Asmo laid back down, getting as close as he could against your body. “But even so, you’re pretty all the same.”

His hand smacked against your knee as he tried to find you, his touch searching for yours. “I can’t be both…am I beautiful or ugly?” He really couldn’t understand what you were trying to say. Maybe one day you’d be able to convey your thoughts properly.

As soon as you touched his wrist, he slid his fingers up to weave through yours. “You’re always beautiful, Asmo. Always. A little sickness won't stop you. But for now, your beautiful body needs some beauty sleep.” You squeezed his hand. “I’ll be right by your side.” The medicine seemed to already be working. Double the dose meant double the drowsiness, and you pinned it in the back of your mind to tell Lucifer about his mishap later. He curled into a tighter ball, snuggling up against your legs.

“It’s not…fair,” he whined, voice almost slurring with sleep. “I don’t…deserve this…I wish I was…as beautiful…as you.” Your chest tightened, but you kept your mouth closed. His grip had already slackened, and you could hear the deeper slower breaths as you came to the conclusion that he had fallen back asleep.

Feel better, Asmo. I’ll be here till you do.

“I tried warning them fallen angels or not, they were still in the demographic to get sick.” Solomon sighed wistfully, but the whole time he never lost his smile. As you recounted your encounters over the last few weeks, the sorcerer giggled. “What I wouldn’t give to see some of those scenes.”

The angel across the little table from you had to agree, although he looked a lot more sympathetic to the brother’s plight than the human did. “I’m really glad they’re all feeling better though. I bet you’re enjoying your newfound freedom, aren’t you, MC?”

You settled down the mug against the tabletop, sitting back in your chair, basking in the ambiance of Purgatory Hall. The House of Lamentation really had been come to feel like your home, but a change of pace was so refreshing at times. The angel’s dorm was so much brighter, quieter. No shouting, no nagging, no chaos. You could sip on a warm beverage in peace. “It’s nice knowing they all feel better,” you stated, having to admit to yourself that your termination of demon-nurse was doing you some good. Retirement life was nice. “No more worries.”

Both men agreed, Simeon pleasantly humming to himself. “Still, you could’ve asked us to help out. I bet it was difficult looking after all of them.”

“Can’t be much different than usual, can it?” Solomon interjected, laughing to himself.

They both were right. But, it’s not like you had hated it. You all felt…closer now. They had allowed you to see a part of themselves no one else got to see. That made you feel special. But being able to kick your feet up and get some much needed sleep was what your doctor ordered. You picked your mug back up and finished the last of your drink. The warmth of it spread throughout your body, seeping down to your toes and fingertips.

When Simeon noticed your cup was empty, he stood, holding his hand out. “Here I can take that for you.” You didn’t really want to impose, but you were the guest, and it did feel nice being taken care of today. They’d pampered you nicely. Taking your jacket at the door, leading you to the living room where you were given sweets and treats handmade by Luke and Simeon. You got more comfortable on the couch and gave the angel a thankful nod. Simeon turned away from you and Solomon, his steps halted as a high-pitched squeak filled the room. “Oh, sorry.”

Your head tilted a bit. “Sorry for what?” Had he stepped on a loose floorboard?

Solomon held himself back a bit before clapping in a bit of glee. He seemed endlessly entertained. “Doesn’t Simeon have the most petite sneeze? Bless you.”

Simeon looked back over his shoulder, actually looking a bit embarrassed over it. “It’s quite a normal sneeze thank you…” He shot his roommate a little look before leaving the room. You watched him go, a sensation of familiarity bubbling up to your mind. This felt… no, it couldn’t be. You were over-thinking things. There was absolutely no way it was happening again. Nope. You would refuse fate itself. Simeon took good care of himself. You couldn’t assume every sneeze was a sign of illness.

There was no one left to get sick. The story was over! The series had come to an end! All wrapped up in a pretty bow and everything!

No one else needed a taste of medicine.

Or did they?…

[inevesgf]

LOVER BOY ⠀,⠀ george clarke.

synopsis ✩ what it’s like dating george clarke!

warnings: mentions of sexual behavior.

authors note: i have had so much muse and inspiration to write for george recently. love our silly guy so bad! i also have tried to write more sexual content for my thirsty folks out there so i hope it lives up to expectations. arthur next ;)

• love language is either gift giving or psychical touch!

• is the type of boyfriend that will randomly pick up things from the shop for you without you even asking.

• “want anything?” “no, i’m alright.” and then he comes back with your favorite snacks and a stupid little trinket.

• a big lover of hugs from behind + adds little kisses on your neck and shoulders when he does.

• will not let you be the big spoon ever, im sorry mates.

• he always has to be the big spoon. i have a feeling he definitely likes feeling like the more masculine person in the relationship.

• but LOVES to lay his head in your lap and let you play with his hair.

• kisses your thighs sometimes when he does because he knows it gives you butterflies.

• leaves hickeys there where only he can see them.

• doesn’t mind pda, but doesn’t overdo it. when youre out he will hold your hand and put his arm around your waist, but isn’t one to kiss you in public unless it’s an appropriate moment.

• his go to nicknames for you are probably “darling” and “love”, he’s pretty simple.

• likes to be dominant in bed, but also doesn’t mind when you ride him and pull on his hair slightly.

• always sends you the stupid black cat and white cat memes, but they are so accurate.

• loves when you tag around with his friends. bonus points if you do content creation, he likes when you all film together.

• he jokes about loving arthur(tv) more than he loves you, so you joke about also loving arthur more than you love him! have to keep that shit even

• but at the end of all the jokes he knows he loves you more than anything and you appreciate him the same.

• probably a jealous boyfriend though, wont lie.

• not in like a “don’t ever look at her!” way, but in a “im gonna give you hickeys all over your neck to show you’re mine” kind of way 🤭.

• secretly a massive sweetheart though.

• if you ever come home wasted from a night out with friends, he will clean you up and help you get changed.

• “you take such good care of me😌” and he just starts laughing about how absolutely GONE you are.

• and in the morning when you’re suffering from a horrible hangover he will bring you water and little snacks while you rest!

• might not be the best cook, but will attempt to cook your favorite foods on little date nights.

• even if it goes terribly wrong, you still appreciate it nonetheless.

• falls under golden retriever category alongside chris and ginge of course!

• super super giddy when you get home from wherever and he just gets to spend the rest of the night with you.

• dare i say baby i’m yours - arctic monkeys cover is the song you listen to and think of him.

• the type of boyfriend to wake you up at 4am to go watch the sunrise from a hilltop or the beach.

• love’s spontaneous little adventures like that!

• definitely books little trips on short notice just to surprise you.

• always always up for an adventure. you two have definitely faced your fears together with activities like rock climbing, bungee jumping, etc.

• prefers to go out for dates rather than stay in, but loves to have a lazy night with you where you two watch films and have snacks.

• would be hesitant to raise a dog or cat with you due to the responsibility, so he’d settle for a lil fish.

[chelseachilly]

falling for you

pairing: reader x ben chilwell summary: as a reporter for chelsea and england, you and ben have always been friendly - and sometimes a bit flirty - but you never imagined a fluke injury while filming a youtube video could lead to something more warnings: mentions of minor injury, mainly just fluff ☺️ word count: 6.4k

author's note: hope you like this one! it was a lot of fun to write and definitely my longest one-shot yet hahah. fc is olivia buzalgo obviously lol

-

As a reporter for both the England national team and Chelsea, you’ve always tried your best to remain professional and not show favouritism towards any of the players.

For the most part, this hasn’t been an issue. While you do spend a lot of your time with incredibly fit guys around your age, they’ve never been anything other than colleagues or, at the most, friends.

Except for Ben Chilwell. 

He had been on your radar professionally for some time before you met, as he was an up and coming talent at Leicester and for England. You always thought he was good looking when you watched him play on television, but you didn’t really know much about him.

It wasn’t until he signed for Chelsea in the summer of 2020 that things changed.

You were tasked with conducting Ben’s first interview for the club, and the two of you hit it off immediately. You felt like you had known him your whole life within the hour you spent together in a small room at Cobham, chatting about his career and his goals at Chelsea. 

You also learned quickly that Ben wasn’t just attractive - there was something magnetic about him. You felt instantly at ease around him, yet he also made your heart rate triple with a quick smile as you passed in the hallway or a glance in your direction while he’s on the pitch.

While you would never dream of pursuing him, partly because it’s unprofessional and partly because there’s no way he feels the same way, the connection between you two hasn’t exactly gone unnoticed. 

Every time you post an Instagram story of you working with Ben or a video of you interviewing him is released, the comments and replies are flooded with fans speculating about whether you two are dating. You always feel a bit embarrassed, wondering if he’s seeing these responses too, but you continue to post the content for two reasons:

One, because your content with Ben always performs the best, meaning your bosses are always encouraging more of it;

And two, because you’re super into him and you’ll take any excuse to work with or spend time with him.

So, despite all the speculation, you continue to post pics with Ben whenever you’re working together, and the occasional borderline-flirty comments he leaves certainly don’t help matters. 

yourusername

liked by benchilwell, masonmount and others yourusername Always a pleasure with the best left-back in the league @benchilwell ☺️ view all comments benchilwell High praise from the best reporter in the game 😉 chelsfan1 ooh i think chilly has a crush on y/n benfan2 they are never beating the secretly dating allegations 🤨

The seemingly flirty comments he sometimes makes in person don’t help matters, either - certainly not for your growing crush on him. You find yourself both looking forward to and dreading every opportunity to film something with him, loving every minute of your time with him but wishing deep down that it could lead to something more. 

You’ve hung out a bit outside of work, too, sometimes grabbing something to eat after a shoot or partying together after Chelsea have won a big game. You’re friends, but that’s all you are. You’re painfully reminded of that every time you read about the latest gorgeous model he’s dating. 

That doesn’t stop your heart from skipping a beat when your boss emails you your next assignment, a video with Ben and Conor. They’re two of your closest friends on the team, so it should be a dream day of work for you to film a silly video with them for the club’s socials, but you’re more nervous than usual. 

Ben’s been a little bit flirtier than usual lately, bringing you coffee when you’re working at Cobham and sending you funny TikToks throughout the day. You’re not reading too much into it, but it’s definitely going to make it harder for you to ignore your feelings for him.

But you’ll at least have Conor and the camera crew there, so it won’t be that bad. You hope.

You arrive at Cobham bright and early that day, already dressed and having done your own makeup as per usual for a shoot like this. You meet up with the cameraman, Brian, who you frequently work with, to go over the plan.

“You nervous?” Brian asks when you walk into the office, a small smirk on his face. 

You can feel your face go pale and your eyes widen. “What? Wh-why would I be nervous?”

“Because of the shoot,” Brian says blankly, raising an eyebrow at you. “You know, how you were saying you’re awful at football…”

Ah, yes. The normal reason for you to be nervous. 

Truthfully, your mind has been so taken up with thoughts of seeing Ben that you haven’t worried too much about the video itself. The premise is that the boys will demonstrate some football skills and you’re supposed to try to replicate them. You’re hardly a footballer, so it’s really just meant to be lighthearted, funny content for fans who like your dynamic with the boys. 

“Oh, right,” you say with a small laugh. “I’m sure it won’t be too bad. How hard can it be?”

Brian just laughs, ignoring your slightly odd behaviour from before. “Yeah, you’ll be fine.”

A little while later, you make your way out to the training pitch where you’re meeting the guys, and you smile when you see Ben has shown up early and is kicking the ball around and scrolling on his phone. He stops and smiles when he sees you approaching.

“Y/N, hey!” he exclaims, pulling you into a quick hug. “You alright?”

“Hey, Ben,” you reply, in a bit of a trance as you pull back from the hug. “I’m good. How are you?”

“Great,” Ben grins. “You ready to learn a few things?” 

“Oh, yeah, it’s not every day that I get a free football lesson from the stars of Chelsea FC,” you tease. 

“Yeah, you basically won the lotto,” Ben chuckles.

You raise an eyebrow with a smirk. “You’re comparing a morning with you to winning the lottery?”

Before your banter can continue, you see Conor and the rest of the video crew approaching and you’re brought back to reality - in which Ben is your coworker, not your boyfriend, and you have a job to do. 

You quickly hug Conor hello and chat for a minute while the guys set up the filming equipment. You can tell they’re in high spirits from the recent winning streak they’ve been on, making the atmosphere around Cobham better all around. 

Once it’s time to get started, you get into position and begin your intro, explaining the premise of the video. 

You start off with some easier skills, watching Ben and Conor demonstrate before attempting them yourself. You’re definitely not a professional, but you played a bit as a kid, so you can handle a few kick ups and headers. 

As things start to get a bit more complicated, you’re definitely struggling more, but the boys are very sweet and encouraging. Honestly, you’re not too concerned with showcasing your abilities - it’s just a funny video, and it’s part of the job. You don’t think any of the fans are expecting you to be the next Leah Williamson or something, but you still try your best for the sake of the challenge. 

The final skill you have to do is a bit of a trickier one, a crossover. Ben shows you how to do it with ease, obviously, before encouraging you to give it a go. 

After a couple failed attempts that you hope the video editor cuts out, you finally manage one, and both Ben and Conor cheer for you like you just won the Champions League.

“You’re a pro, Y/N,” Ben grins. “Wanna go again?”

With a sudden boost of confidence, you nod, and Ben kicks the ball back to you. You kick it up a few times and meet Ben’s gaze with a small smile before jumping up and swinging your leg around the ball again. 

Only this time, instead of landing perfectly on your feet, you land directly on the side of your left ankle and fall over.

There’s a shooting pain up your leg, but that’s overshadowed by the immediate embarrassment you’re feeling. The moment you catch your breath and sit up, Ben is already at your side with his hand on your upper back, asking if you’re okay.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you insist, before you’ve even had time to assess if that’s true. “Just give me a sec and we can keep going, sorry guys.”

“Are you sure?” Brian asks, setting his camera down on the tripod after he stopped filming. “It looked like you twisted your ankle pretty bad.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” you say, though the pain has begun to settle in and it definitely doesn’t feel like nothing. “Ben, can you help me up?”

Ben looks hesitant, his eyes flitting from your ankle back up to your face, but he nods and grabs both your hands to help lift you to your feet. 

You’re determined to soldier on and finish the video with minimal humiliation, but the moment you put the slightest bit of weight on your left foot, you wince sharply and feel tears begin to brim in your eyes. 

Ben immediately catches you and carefully lowers you back to the ground, keeping a hand on your back.

“Y/N, you’re hurt,” Ben says, eyes full of concern. “It’s your ankle?”

You nod, afraid that if you speak, your voice will tremble from the pain.

“We should take her to one of the physios to get it looked at,” Conor suggests. 

“I’m sure they have more important things to deal with,” you mumble, feeling a bit more grounded by the way Ben is gently rubbing your back, giving you something other than the pain to focus on. 

“Not really, we don’t have training today so most of the boys aren’t even here,” Ben assures you. “I’ll take you there now.”

You’re about to ask how you’re going to get all the way up to the physio offices if you can’t even stand, but you don’t have to wonder for long before Ben is carefully slipping his arm under your knees.

You let out a small gasp as you’re swept off your feet, suddenly finding yourself in Ben’s arms. 

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” he asks quickly, misinterpreting your surprise for pain.

“No, I’m good,” you say quietly. Despite the shooting pain, this is partially true - how could you not be good when you’re currently being carried bridal style by the guy you’ve had a crush on for years. 

“Sorry, guys,” you say to Conor and the crew. “Maybe once they look at my ankle we can continue-“

“There’s no way you’re walking on that today, and we have enough content for the video,” Brian tells you. “Go get checked out and let us know how you’re feeling, alright?” 

“I will,” you smile. “Thanks.”

“Good to go?” Ben asks you, and you nod. 

You rest your head on his shoulder as he carries you with ease up to the physio department, feeling strangely comfortable in this position you never expected to be in. You love the feeling of being in his arms, how safe and protected you feel even in your vulnerable state. 

Once you arrive at the physio rooms, Ben sets you down gently on one of the beds and runs to grab someone. He returns moments later with Billy, who you’ve met a few times around the club. He’s a kind man who you know is particularly close with many of the players, including Ben.

“Hi there, Y/N, let’s take a look at that ankle,” he says gently. “Ben, mind grabbing some ice?”

“Of course.”

Ben goes over to the freezer and grabs a bag of ice while Billy carefully removes your shoe and sock, the action alone making tears form in your eyes once again. 

“Let’s ice it for a few minutes first,” Billy suggests after seeing the state of your rapidly swelling ankle. “I’ll go get you something for the pain.”

After he takes the ice pack from Ben and gently places it on your foot, relieving the throbbing a little bit, Billy leaves the room. Ben pulls up a chair next to you and lightly touches your arm. 

“You doing alright? That looks like a bad one,” Ben says, his voice impossibly even softer than before as he sees the pain you’re experiencing.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” You sigh, shaking your head. “I’m just so humiliated, to be honest. Leave it to me to injure myself on video, and in front of my coworkers and two professional footballers.” 

“You have nothing to be embarrassed about, love, that could’ve happened to anyone,” Ben insists, making your heart jump at the tender nickname. “It’s my fault, I encouraged you to go again. I’m so sorry you got hurt, I feel awful.”

“No, Ben, absolutely not,” you say quickly. “It was just a dumb accident. I think I got a bit too confident in my football abilities.”

“Well, you were doing great,” he smiles. “I think the fans will love the video. Just like everything else you do.”

You’re grateful that Billy walks back in right in that moment, both because of the pain meds he has for you and because it diverts Ben’s attention from your now flushed cheeks. 

As Billy begins your assessment, you turn back to Ben.

“You really don’t have to stay, I’m sure you have better things to do with the rest of your day.”

“Don’t be silly, Y/N, I’m not going anywhere,” Ben says definitively. 

You’re sure you’re blushing again, but it’s quickly overshadowed by your grimacing in pain as Billy gently rotates and palpates your foot. Ben’s presence calms you down massively as Billy runs some tests to determine the extent of your injury.

After it’s determined that it’s just a bad sprain, Billy puts you in a boot and gives you crutches to get around for the next few days. He says to go for an x-ray if it doesn’t improve in the next two weeks, but that you should be walking fine by then. 

Once you’re cleared to leave, Ben offers to grab your stuff from the media team offices as you rack your brain to think about how you’re going to get both yourself and your car home. 

He returns with your bag slung over his shoulder and another gentle, heartwarming, completely irresistible smile on his face. 

“You ready to go?”

“Yeah, I just need to call my parents and see when they’ll be able to make it,” you tell him. “It might be a while, but I’m fine to wait here. I’ve already taken up way too much of your time.”

Ben just furrows his eyebrows. “Don’t your parents live in North London?”

You just blink at him for a second, completely surprised that he remembers this detail you hardly remember sharing with him, before nodding.

“That could take hours with traffic, I’ll just take you,” he insists.

“That’s really nice, Ben, but I also have to get my car home somehow.”

“So I’ll drive you home in your car, then Uber back to get mine later,” he says nonchalantly. 

“Ben-“

“Please just let me do this, Y/N,” Ben pleads. “I swear it’s no trouble.“

After a moment of deliberation, you find yourself agreeing with him. It could take hours for your parents to get here, and you’re really looking forward to being home on your couch after the day you’ve had.

He helps you down to the car park, matching your slow pace and opening all the doors for you, and then helps you get into the passenger seat of your car. You feel mildly embarrassed that he has to drive your tiny little vehicle that probably cost only a fraction of his weekly pay, but he immediately tells you how nice it is and cracks a joke about how much cleaner it is than his own, putting you at ease. 

You play some music while he drives, chatting about some of the recent changes at the club as you give him directions to your flat. About halfway there, you notice how his phone that he placed in the drink holder between you is incessantly buzzing.

“Do you need to get that?” 

“No, it’s alright,” Ben shrugs. “Probably just the boys. I was supposed to go to my mate’s house after we wrapped up, but I’ll text them and explain. He won’t mind.”

You instantly feel terrible for keeping him from hanging out with his friends on a rare day off from training. 

“Ben, I-“

“Y/N, it’s really no big deal,” he says, looking over at you now that you’re stopped at a red light. “They’re not going to care that I bailed on playing FIFA to help my injured friend.“

You nod and smile at him, holding his gaze until the light turns green and the person behind you is honking at you to drive.

-

yourusername

liked by benchilwell, conorgallagher92 and others yourusername Before and after attempting to keep up with professional footballers…I’ll keep my day job lol 😅 view all comments benchilwell You'll be back on the pitch with us in no time 🥰 conorgallagher92 Hope you're feeling better!! You did great 😊 chelsfan3 aww poor y/n, what happened?? yourfriend Get well soon babe! x benfan4 Omg Y/N and Ben...need this video out asap (and hope she's ok!)

The next few days pass fairly uneventfully as you’re laid up on your couch icing your ankle and watching Netflix. 

Thankfully, you didn’t have any in-person work commitments this week, and you’re able to do some prep for next week’s interviews from the comfort of your own home. 

Although the injury is certainly a disruption to your routine, the most significant change is the sheer amount of attention you’ve been receiving from Ben ever since.

After he helped you get home and learned that your flatmate is on holiday for two weeks and you would be home all alone, he insisted on staying and making you something to eat. He only left once he was confident that you were comfortable and had everything you needed. 

Since then, he’s texted you way more than he ever has before, constantly checking in and asking if you need anything. As much as you would love for him to come over every day and watch movies or have dinner with you, you have a nagging feeling that he just feels guilty about your injury. You like him so much, even more so for how sweet and attentive he’s being, but you don’t want to take advantage of that kindness.

After the third day of being bored at home, though, you’re starting to go a little stir crazy, and it’s hard to resist when Ben texts you. 

True to his word, Ben shows up at 5:45 with Nando’s for both of you, having remembered your order from one time you went together after an interview he did for Sky. 

After teasing him during dinner for never having finished the films, you decide to watch the fourth Harry Potter movie, Ben helping you settle in on the couch with your leg up before sitting right next to you. 

As time passes, he gets progressively closer to you, until his arm is resting on the back of the sofa. He’s not quite touching you, but after he selects the next film, silently looking at you to see if you want him to stay, you feel a bit braver. After nodding with a smile, prompting Ben to hit play and settle back into the cushions, you shift slightly closer to him and lean into his body. 

“You’re warm,” you say, suddenly feeling the need to justify your closeness when you feel his muscles tense slightly.

When you feel him shift away from you, you’re completely humiliated for misreading the situation. What on earth were you thinking trying to cuddle with him? You don’t cuddle with your other friends.

But these thoughts are quickly shut down as Ben grabs the blanket from the opposite end of the couch and drapes it over both of you, then raises his arm to invite you to lean back into him with a smile on his face. 

You hesitate only a moment before curling back up to him, your head now resting on his shoulder and his arm wrapped around you. 

You’re so comfortable and at ease in this position, despite it being completely new and a bit terrifying, that you can feel yourself drifting off less than halfway through the movie. You swear you feel Ben press a kiss to your forehead, but you’re not sure if it’s real or you’re already dreaming.

When you wake up again, the credits are rolling and Ben is half-asleep with his head resting on top of yours. 

“Sorry I fell asleep,” you murmur with a small yawn, reluctantly extracting yourself from his embrace. 

“It’s okay, you needed the rest,” Ben says softly, his voice a bit gravelly from lack of use.

God, you want to kiss him so bad. 

“It’s late, do you have training in the morning?” you ask.

“Yeah, at nine,” Ben confirms. “So I suppose I should get going. Do you need anything before I do?”

“No, thank you, though,” you say. “For everything, Ben. You’ve been so amazing, I really cant thank you enough.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Ben says softly, taking your hand and giving it a squeeze. “You’ve always been so nice and supportive when I was injured, whether you’re interviewing me about it or we’re just chatting privately, and I don’t think I ever told you how much I appreciate that. How much I appreciate you.”

Your cheeks are growing hotter as you hold his gaze, his bright blue eyes staring into yours with a new kind of intensity you’ve never seen before. 

As much as you desperately want to lean in and press your lips to his, or even tell him how you feel, you’ve grown to treasure your connection with him too much to risk anything. You have to be sure. 

“You’re welcome, Ben,” you say. “I’m glad I could help. I’ve always hated seeing you go through that.”

Ben nods, squeezing your hand once more before letting go.

“I’ll text you tomorrow, keep taking it easy and feel free to call me if there’s anything you need. At all.”

“Thanks,” you say once again, rising and grabbing your crutches to walk him out and so you can lock the door behind him. “I’ll be okay. But I will probably have to miss the game on Sunday, not sure I’ll be up for the journey to Newcastle.” 

You hate missing Chelsea games, whether they’re home or away, but even if you secure a spot on the team jet and you have a comfy spot in one of the boxes, it would be a lot to navigate on crutches. 

“Of course, we’ll all miss seeing you, though,” Ben says. “Won’t feel right doing the interview with someone else after we win.”

“I love the confidence, but you speak with other interviewers all the time,” you tease him gently. 

“Yeah, and I always wish they were you,” he admits as he slides his shoes on. “Good night, love.”

He steps forward, cupping your face and pressing another kiss to your forehead - this one definitely not a dream - but pulls back much too quickly for your liking. 

“Good night, Ben,” you’re barely able to choke out, your heart rate nearly triple its usual pace.

The moment he’s gone, you crutch back over to the sofa and flop down, letting out a long exhale. 

Surely, he would’ve kissed you when he had the chance if he fancied you, right?

But, at the same time, no matter how nice of a person he is or how much he treasures your friendship, you doubt he would spend his whole evening cuddling with you if he didn’t want to. 

As you settle in and press play on yet another movie - the perks of not having work in the morning - you try to put all thoughts of Ben out of your mind. This proves difficult, considering the blanket you’re using still smells a bit like his cologne, and because you haven’t really stopped thinking about him since the day you met. 

-

The next week, after Chelsea defeat Newcastle 3-1 with a spectacular assist from Ben that you really wish you could’ve seen in person, you’re back at work. 

You’re doing an interview with Pochettino this afternoon to talk about the win and how the season is turning around, which is a great opportunity for you, career-wise.

You just wish that it hadn’t happened on a day when you’re still hobbling around in a boot and Brian is stuck in traffic, meaning you have to set up for the interview yourself. Thankfully, you’re no longer on crutches, but by the second trip down the stairs from the media office to the room where you’re doing the interview, your ankle is really starting to protest all the walking.

Just as you’re taking a break in the middle of the stairwell, propping the tripod you were carrying up against the wall and taking a seat, you hear the sound of footsteps approaching and mentally prepare yourself to explain what you’re doing just chilling on the stairs.

“Y/N!”

The sound of the familiar voice calling your name relaxes you a bit, your shoulders slumping as you see the same smile that has been imprinted in your brain for the past week. 

“Someone told me you were in today but I couldn’t find you in the media office,” he says, the smile on his face fading as he notes your slightly pained expression. “Are you alright, love?”

Since your injury, he’s called you “love” more times than you can ever recall him saying to anyone before, making your stomach fill with butterflies every time. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you insist. “Just…taking a break.”

Ben narrows his eyes, and you know you aren’t fooling him, as much as you don’t want any more pity or guilty looks from him. 

“In the stairwell? Wait - you aren’t carrying equipment yourself, are you? Y/N-“

“Brian’s stuck in traffic, and I’m interviewing Poch in an hour. I’m not going to waste his time because we were late to set up.”

“Y/N, there’s no way I’m letting you carry anything else down these stairs,” Ben says seriously, reaching out to carry the tripod under one arm and offering you a hand with the other. 

You take his hand and let him pull you to your feet, but you still can’t help but protest.

“Don’t you have training right now?”

“Nah, just finished,” he says, beginning to walk down the stairs and keeping a hand hovering behind your back as if he’s afraid you’ll topple over. “We have a break for lunch now before we hit the gym.”

“But-“

“I’ll have plenty of time to help you and eat,” Ben says, now countering your arguments for accepting help before you can even make them. 

Once you get down to the room of the interview, Ben insists you sit down and elevate your leg while he grabs the rest of the stuff. On his final trip, he comes back with your folder of notes in one hand and a bag with lunch and drinks for both of you in the other. 

You don’t know how he keeps continuing to surprise you with his sweet gestures, but somehow he’s one-upped himself yet again. You sit on the floor and eat the sandwiches he grabbed from the cafeteria together while he helps you review your talking points for the interview. 

He doesn’t get up to leave until Brian arrives to finish setting up, ensuring that someone will be there to prevent you from doing any more physical labour.

“Can I give you a ride home today?” Ben offers as he helps you up off the floor. “You still can’t drive with that on, right?”

You glance down at the cumbersome boot. Unfortunately, you did injure your driving foot, which means you had to get an Uber here today. You’re about to tell him you can get another one home, not wanting to inconvenience him any more, but you know that he’s just going to refuse.

“That would be great, Ben, thanks,” you smile, squeezing his hands before letting go. “I should be done here in about an hour and a half.”

“That’s perfect,” he grins. “Good luck with the interview, I know you’ll smash it.”

He jogs away to head to the gym, which you suspect he’s now late for, leaving you in a bit of a daze with a completely lovestruck expression on your face. 

“Someone’s got a crush,” Brian says a moment later with a smirk, snapping you out of your trance.

“I-I do not,” you insist quickly, your eyes wide.

“I was talking about Chilly,” he says, chuckling a bit at your frantic denial. “But now that you mention it, you have always gotten on particularly well with him. No wonder the fans are always commenting about the vibes between you.”

“Oh, shush,” you roll your eyes. “There are no…vibes. He’s just being nice because of my ankle.” 

“Right, I’m sure that’s the only reason,” Brian retorts sarcastically. 

You pull out your phone and see that the Instagram stories you posted earlier are garnering lots of attention, your replies full of fans commenting on how sweet Ben is - something you’re well aware of.

yourusername via instagram stories

Thankfully, Brian can’t tease you much longer before Poch shows up for the interview. You say hello and settle in before getting started. 

About 30 minutes later, you have everything you need from him and thank the coach for his time and a great conversation. You and Brian head back to the media offices to get to work on early edits of the video, a part of the process that you’re not really required to help with, but you always enjoy being as involved as possible. 

You’re wrapping up and sending the file to the media team for final edits when Ben appears in the doorway, freshly showered and now wearing grey sweatpants and a hoodie that really look unfairly good on him instead of his training kit. 

“Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” you smile. “I’ll just grab my bag-"

Ben is already walking over and grabbing it for you so you don’t have to carry anything, and you both say goodbye to Brian before heading for the car park. 

He opens the door to his car for you, even though you’re definitely capable of getting in yourself now, and then he begins to drive to your place, no longer requiring any directions.

“So, how was the interview?” Ben asks after a moment of comfortable silence.

“It was great,” you say. “He speaks very highly of you, you know. Not that I blame him after that assist on Sunday.”

“You watched?” Ben asks, his eyes lit up with joy as he glances over at you. 

“Of course, I wasn’t gonna miss it just cause I couldn’t be there in person,” you smile. “You were brilliant.”

You can’t tear your eyes away from Ben’s gorgeous smile as he continues to drive - improved only by your compliments being the reason for it. 

You continue to chat about the game and other things until you arrive in front of your building. It’s hard to keep the slightly sad expression off your face when Ben pulls into the driveway and you know you have to say goodbye to him again. 

All you want is to drag him inside with you and never let him go, but you know that isn’t realistic. Sure, he’s been wonderful and caring and attentive all week, but you’re sure that as soon as your ankle heals, everything will go back to how it was. 

“Are you okay?” Ben asks once he puts the car in park and notices the look on your face. “Is it your ankle? Is it bothering you?”

“No, no,” you say, quickly dissuading his worries. “It’s nothing, I’m all good.”

He nods, but the concerned expression doesn’t quite leave his face. “I’ve been worried about you. You know, being here by yourself and stuff.”

Though your stomach flips once again at his soft tone, you try to ignore it. He’s just being nice. He’s a nice person. That’s why you like him so damn much. 

“It’s okay, my mum has come around a few times and my flatmate will be home on Saturday,” you tell him. “Besides, I’m completely fine. I know you feel a bit guilty, but it’s just a sprained ankle. You’ve been so sweet looking after me, but I don’t want you to feel obligated.”

Ben blinks at you for a moment before letting out a sigh, running his hand through his hair. 

“It’s not…I mean, I did feel a bit guilty, but that’s not why I wanted to take care of you. It’s because I care about you.”

You frown in confusion. “I’m not saying you don’t care about me, Ben, I care about you too, but-“

“Y/N, for gods sake,” Ben cuts you off, taking a deep breath. “It’s not just that I care about you, okay? I care about the boys, but I don’t exactly turn up with dinner and cuddle with Reece or Trev when they’re injured.”

As you realize what he’s implying, your breath catches in your throat and you find it hard to speak at all, let alone say the right thing.

You’re not sure what comes over you, but the only thing you can think to do in the moment is the thing you’ve been dreaming about doing for the past three years - you lean across the console and press your lips firmly to his.

You have a brief feeling of terror that you’ve misunderstood what he was saying, until Ben starts to kiss you back and you no longer have any thoughts in your brain that aren’t of his lips.

He parts his mouth slightly and you kiss him harder, his hand coming up to tangle in your hair. You sigh into his mouth, in pure ecstasy as he kisses you like his life depends on it. 

You only part when you both need to come up for air, and even then, you’re reluctant to pull away from him, lingering close. Ben brushes his nose against yours, and you watch as he slowly opens his eyes.

“Y/N,” he breathes. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you to do that.”

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to,” you murmur, slowly pulling back from him. “Why…why didn’t you ever say anything?” 

“I wasn’t sure if you felt the same, and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable since we work together a lot,” Ben admits. “I thought about bringing it up every time we hung out outside of work, but I always chickened out.”

“Oh,” you exhale, your mind whirring with a million different thoughts. “I never knew you felt that way about me.”

Ben raises an eyebrow. “I flirt with you all the time! There’s a reason the fans are always posting about us online, saying I fancy you and stuff. I thought it was obvious.” 

You could nearly scream at your own obliviousness - if only because it delayed what was just most definitely the best kiss of your life - but you never thought in a million years that Ben would choose you over all the other options he has available to him, over all the perfect girls you’ve seen fawn over him at games and parties.

“Well, I’m glad you’ve told me now, even if it took me falling over and injuring myself for us to get here,” you laugh under your breath, making him roll his eyes at you with affection.

“I’m definitely not glad you got hurt, but I was happy to have an excuse to spend more time with you,” Ben admits. “I just…always want to spend time with you.”

You’re blushing like crazy again, but this time, you don’t care that Ben can see. When he reaches out to cup your face and stroke your cheek with his thumb, you don’t shy away from him, your bashful smile mirroring his. 

“Are you free tomorrow night?” he asks. “There’s this amazing French restaurant in Richmond, I would love to take you if you want.”

You’re giddy at the thought of an actual, romantic first date with Ben, though you’ve felt more romance eating sandwiches on the floor and chatting in crowded stadiums and walking to get coffee with him than you have on any “real” first date you’ve ever had. 

“I would love to,” you smile. 

“Okay,” Ben grins. “I’ll pick you up at seven, then?”

You nod, feeling pure elation as Ben begins to lean in to seal your agreement with a kiss. It feels so natural, it’s hard to believe your first one was just minutes ago.

“Can I help you inside?” Ben offers once you’ve pulled away again. 

He knows full well that you’re completely capable of walking to the door by yourself, but you’re not offended by his chivalrous behaviour, especially now that you know he has a very good reason for it. 

“Only if you kiss me again at the door,” you respond, smirking at him playfully, and his eyes light up with delight.

“I can definitely do that.”

-

please let me know what you thought!! i love your comments and asks more than anything 💕

[jester089]

.

What would happen if, having appeared at the circus, the reader looked around and said animatedly. “Wow...this place has changed so much. You did a good job, Kane!” - instead of the usual panics. It was as if they were already here. And how do they know his name is Kane?

everything is very simple. The reader has already been to the circus once (back when the queener was alive), but was able to escape. The reader decided to come back, because they felt sorry for the people in the circus, but when they came again, all the old characters had long since disappeared, and instead they saw the main cast. They had to explain everything again: what the world looks like from the outside, how much it has changed, and most importantly, that there is a way out and they are helping them.

They know how to find a way out, remember their past and true name, and have decided to came back to help others escape. It would be cool if Kinder remembered the reader, because he was the first

Back so soon?

So their is what you asked. But it made me think of something. What if reader was someone who created Caine/the circus. And they check in like every 6 months or so just to see how everything is going, and to make sure nothing is going horribly wrong. But they can't get the others out. So they just do their best to make the place comfortable. I'll still write your request but my idea will probably be written soon. Maybe. I honestly don't know. But you didn't specify on if you wanted the crew sperate or not so I'm just going to do a one shot.

TADC crew x Reader who visits the circus

You pop in on digital circus every now and again just to check in on everything and see how Caine is. Your a coder and stumbled upon it by chance. That is actually how you found a way out, and help everyone with their memories. Those x'ed out doors are people you've gotten out, or ones who abstracted before you could help them. You sometimes use it as a vacation too. Life is stressful and that place is full of a childlike fun and relaxing atmosphere when you aren't worried about escape. I mean you don't have to eat, drink, or sleep. And you get to go on silly adventures. 10/10 vacation spot if that's your thing. You pop into the colorful main room and look around. It's about the same as last time, that isn't a bad thing though. "Caine! I'm back!" No response. huh. Eh he's a busy guy you can't really blame him. You start walking towards the rooms hoping to meet everyone new. ~~~~~

You get there and skim over the doors different pictures. "Ok so looks like we gottt. A comedy masked ribbon person. A mismatch of colors and pieces poor them. A chess piece. Oh no, their was a queen version. Oh geez now I feel awful. Maybe I should stop by more... Ok uhh, a ragdoll. A periwinkle bunny. And a Jester. Alright not a bad line up." You ring each rooms door bell getting no response each time. "Wonder where everyone is. I hope they're ok." You start wandering around calling out for Caine every now and again. ~~~~~ After around 20 minutes of wandering you find Caine and the group of people that the rooms belong to at the carnival. You jog up to them waving. "Caine! I'm back!" He does an over the top spin and hold the sides of his head like. "Y/N!!! What a pleasure to see you again! Back so soon too! We were having a day at the carnival! Seeing as how it wasn't used for a long time I made some changes! Their is now more rides! And an arcade! How about I introduce you to everyone!" "Yeah I would love that! Also I can't wait to try out the new rides. I had been on the old ones more times then I can count." He directs you towards the crowd of people some are looking at you confused as to how you know Caine, and aren't freaking out. Some just look like they don't wanna be there. ~~~~~

Around 5 minutes later you know everyone by name (Sorry I didn't write that. But you already know who they are and that would have taken me longer then I'm willing to take) so you introduce yourself and how you know Caine. "It's lovely to meet you all! I'm Y/N L/N, but you can just call me Y/N. I'm a coder who can get in and out of the digital circus so I visit sometimes." The short Jester who you now know as Pomni snaps her head in your direction. "You have a way out?!" "Uhh yeah. That's actually the main reason I visit so often. To help people out and get them out. It doesn't really work without me here so I try and visit whenever I can." "Get. Me. OUT OF HERE!" "Ok, ok geez. The rest of you want out too?" You receive only positive reactions so you take that as a yes. You motion for all of them to follow but before you walk off you turn to Caine. "Be back soon! Just gotta get these people home." "But of course. I feel their should be a way for me to be able to get people out. You'd think I would me being the controller of everything their would be. But at least their is a way for everyone to get out. See you soon Y/N and thank you again for all your help!" You wave then lead the group back to the main room and to the stage. "You can do this just about anywhere but this is the place that I've found is the best. My best guess is because it's always where people pop in when they first arrive." You walk up to a seeming specific wall and do something (?) to it. You move off to the side and motion for them to walk into the wall. Pomni essentially sprints into it not even thinking that you could be joking. And she goes straight through. The others soon following. After everyone's out you stretch and start walking back towards the carnival. "Some digital cotton candy sound pretty good right now. And I wanna try out those new rides Caine talked about."

(If I'm being honest I didn't really like how this turned out. But I digress. Sorry it took so long. And sorry only really Pomni talked. Still I hope you enjoyed it! I'm going to give this a special tag cause I feel like I'm going to continue it someday.)

xoxo, Jester

[littlelioncub43]

Come On, Angel

Summary: You and Eddie have been exhausted, and sometimes a nice long nap is exactly what you need.

Pairing: Mechanic!Eddie Munson x Best Friend!Female!Reader

Warning: Fluff, sooooo much fluff, idiots in love, friends to lovers (kinda, nothing happens but it's lowkey understood that they're in love with each other), cuddling, forehead kisses, Eddie and Reader being in love with each other and showing it in sweet ways, one mention of masturbation but it's not even graphic, Eddie has been having nightmares but doesn't know what they're about (S4 doesn't happen in this. He's safe and loved and always will be), slight angst, pet names, just—nice things.

Word count: 2,209

A/N: Oh my goodness, I loved writing this one, ok? This was so much fun. It made me feel all sorts of nice things, and I hope it makes you feel all those nice things too. This is based on a thot I shared with my bestie P!R Anon that I just couldn't help but expand. They put up with a lot of my ramblings and they're amazing for that. And so! I hereby dedicate this slice of heaven to them. Here you go, bestie. Enjoy!

Kisses💋

— K

Part II. Series Masterlist

“If I only could, I’d make a deal with God, and I’d get him to swap our places…” Eddie mumbles under his breath with the radio, silently cursing Max for playing that damn cassette so many times. The drive through the slowly chilling streets of the trailer park was quiet, a few solitary cars and trucks passing Eddie’s prized van as he made the journey to your trailer. With the sun dipping low behind the trees, the shadows and wind bit harder than normal and told of a fast approaching winter. 

Your trailer was a familiar shape at the end of the road, a beacon of comfort that pushed his foot on the pedal hoping to cut the journey as short as possible. Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long before he was slamming the rusty van into park, shutting off Kate Bush, and hopping out of the driver’s seat with that impish grin that never seemed to leave his face around you. The door was locked, which didn’t deter him in the slightest. He pulled the mess of keys from his jacket pocket and found the copy you’d given him a few years ago, just after you moved into your own trailer. The moment you gave it to him, he swore that he wouldn’t let it out of his sight, and, surprisingly, he hasn’t. 

“Helloooo!” He calls as he pushes the door open. He waits for a second for a response but when he gets none he slips his jacket and vest on the couch, heading for your bedroom. 

“Lucy, I’m hooooome!” He sings as he pokes his head into your room, immediately regretting the loudness of his voice. He hears a soft chuckle from the lump of blankets on your bed, your limbs slowly stretching as you peel back the duvet from your sleepy face. “Hey, sleepyhead,” he says, much softer this time.

“Hey,” you croak, still rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you click on the lamp next to your bed, “whatcha up to, Munson? No good?” 

“Oh, yeah, you know me; scaring housewives, stealing cats, sacrificing goats—the whole nine yards, babe.” He grins and slides his hands into his pockets. You giggle again at his silliness and let yourself take him in in all his glory. Eddie Munson looked far too handsome leaning against your doorframe, his frizzy, wild hair illuminated from the light behind him (God, was he an Angel?), dressed in his usual uniform: a well-loved Hellfire t-shirt, black jeans, that God-awful handcuff belt that you secretly loved, and the same pair of white sneakers that he’s had since his junior year. 

“The poor thing, you must be exhausted,” you yawn, even with sleep still heavy in your system you could see that he was tired. 

“Nah,” he winks with a shake of his head, noting how adorable you look swaddled in your blanket. The thought is quickly tossed aside as quickly as he thought it, he shouldn’t think of you like that, you were his best friend. He pulls his keys from his back pocket. “Didn’t mean to interrupt, I’ll leave you to your nest, sweetheart.”

“Noooo, com’ere,” you tiredly beckon to him with a soft smile, “join me in the nest.”

“What?” He pushes off the doorframe to make his way to kneel beside your bed, the grabby hand you make at him has his own hand itching to hold yours. He rests his chin on the edge of your bed, his hands folded neatly. 

“Stay. Nap,” you say, sitting up on your elbow, “I know you need it, I can see your eye bags without my glasses on.” 

“Ok, see, that’s not how to get me into bed with you,” he jokes with a laugh, easily making you laugh with him. He hadn’t been sleeping very well lately, strange nightmares about strange looking bats and massive basilisk-like vines kept him from getting good rest. Then he spent his days toiling away in the garage.

“Com’on, just a small nap,” you pet his arm gently, trying to lure him into agreeing. It was working.

“I don’t have pajamas,” he points out, already caving to your suggestion, you could suggest he take a flying leap and he just might. He straightens up so your eyes are level, subtly searching for more of your warmth. 

“Just ditch the jeans and t-shirt, and sleep in your boxers—which I assume you’re 100% wearing?” You suspiciously raise an eyebrow at him. 

“Yes, mom, I’m wearing underwear,” Eddie sasses at the accusatory tone of your voice. 

“Good! Then you can sleep in those,” you rationalize, your sleepy brain may not make the best choices, but goodness, you were sleepy and you could tell Eddie was too. He clicks his tongue with a heavy sigh, feigning defeat. 

“Alright,” he pulls himself standing and reaches for the hem of his shirt. “Avert your eyes, sweetheart, the show ain’t free.”

“Boooooooo,” you groan and cover your face with a blanket before flopping back on the bed dramatically, earning a chuckle from the metalhead. He was thankful you covered your face so he can blush in private. You’d seen him in his boxers many times before, but this would be the first time he’d be in bed with you, while practically naked. ‘She’s in her pjs, it’ll be fine,’ he tells himself and tugs off his Hellfire shirt. He quickly strips down to his checkered boxers, the chill of the room nips at his skin and leaves him with goosebumps, it mixes with the perpetual exhaustion in his bones. 

Yeah, a warm bed sounds like heaven right now. 

“Done yet?” And there was an angel. As soon as the blanket was over your face, you felt a fresh wave of tiredness crash down on you. 

“Mmhmm,” he hums, trying to remain as calm as possible to fight off the blush that desperately wants to return. You throw open your blankets for him to climb in, reaching for him on instinct. 

Eddie smiles as soon as he sees your pajamas; one of his favorite shirts that mysteriously went missing a week ago and, he hopes to God, a pretty pair of panties. He’s never seen anything more gorgeous than you in his clothes, but you sleeping in his clothes? Oh, he’d pay good money to see that every day for the rest of his life. 

He lets you gently guide him into the spot next to you before he scoops you up to hold you a little closer, an uncontrollable shiver racing up his spine. Boy, he was cold. You nuzzle deeper into his hold on instinct, the feeling of his arms around you always sent your heart a-flutter. The chilled skin of his chest pressed into your cheek as you snuggled in, your hand coming to his arm to rub his skin warm. 

“My God, Munson, are you made of ice?” You joke and curl yourself around him, slinging your leg over his. You swallow lightly when you feel his bare thigh against yours, the light dusting of hair scratched against you ever so softly. If you weren’t so sleepy, you’d be having a mini heart attack right about now. 

“Well, they do say I’m cold hearted,” he teases through a yawn, his eyes getting heavier and heavier with each breath. He hears you hum out a tired laugh but he can barely focus on anything except your leg in his lap and the rhythmic thumpthumpthump of your chest against his. 

There’s a spell of comfortable silence. The room is filled with slowly deepening breaths and two heartbeats. Sleep takes hold of you quickly, your eyes already shut and dreams just about to start. Eddie catches himself dozing and has enough sense to carefully shut the lamp off before relaxing again. 

As soon as the room was dark, sleep came to him and carried him off. 

~~~~~~

There’s laughter. And sunshine. And his favorite Metallica record playing. He remembers you in the passenger seat of his van, passing him a spoon with ice cream on it. He remembers eating the spoonful of chocolate ice cream while never looking away from you. You were smiling at him, and, God, it was the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. The light was red, there was no danger. No bats, or vines or whatever the fuck they were. It was just the two of you and a bowl of chocolate ice cream. What more could he want?

Soft movement twitched in his limbs as he slowly came back from the dream realm. His head was resting on something soft, tresses of his brown hair covered his face but he couldn’t be bothered to move them yet. He felt you stir with him, wakefulness rising in you both. The feeling of his head on your chest was what you could only describe as perfect. You laid on your back with Eddie resting on top of you, his arms bracketing your sides, hands holding the fabric of your shirt that had ridden up in the night. Your legs were spread comfortably for him to fit between. 

With a gentle stretch, you run your hands across his naked shoulders idly. The soothing touch igniting awareness in Eddie as he finally blinks his eyes open. The sun was peeking through the light curtains of your room, the morning birds singing their happy songs in the trees outside. He purrs when you bring one hand to his face, brushing the hair out of his eyes for him. Oh, yeah, he liked that. 

“G’mornin’, Princess,” he rasps, not bothering to move from his spot yet. If he were honest, he wouldn’t move for all eternity if it were up to him. 

“Morning, Ed,” you mumble back with a yawn, still rubbing his back as you finally open your own eyes to stare at your ceiling. 

“'Just a nap,’ huh?” He yawns, his own hand moving to stroke your side, “now, I may not be a smart man, but that was way longer than a nap.”

“Well, we needed it,” you respond with a small smile, the feeling of his calloused hands gliding over the heated skin of your side was equal parts comforting and intoxicating. Eddie let out an affirmative grumble before lifting his head, resting his chin on your sternum. The sight that greets him nearly knocks him on his ass. Your hair is a mess, sleep has made your face plumper than normal, lines from your pillow run along the length of your cheek, eye crusties dot the inner corner of your gorgeous eyes. You look beautiful, like always, but you look real. And the fact that someone as perfect as you were, was real and currently playing with a knotted lock of his hair, blew his fucking mind. 

While he was busy surveying your face, you were doing the same to him. Taking in his own puffy face, drool coated lips, wild hair, and glossy brown eyes. You came to the same conclusion, unbeknownst to you, that he was perfectly real. The smile that tugged at your lips was easy and held all the fondness you felt for the man in your bed. He saw it, the fondness that he hasn’t found anywhere else in the world. 

“Sleep good?” You ask, the tension in the room was too much for you to take any longer. It was enough for Eddie to come back to reality. 

“Like a baby,” he hums and stretches his arms out before propping himself up on his forearms with a sigh. “We are so doing that again,” he says with a playful smirk. 

“Definitely,” you chuckle in agreement and rub your face clear of any left over sleep crusties. It’s then that Eddie realizes that he’s on top of you, he glances between you to see your shirt rucked up, revealing a pair of plain black cotton panties adorning your hips. He bites his lip and takes as many mental pictures as he can for some at at home solo activities. He’s quick to pull his mind out of the gutter when he hears your tummy rumble. 

“Hungry?” He asks, you hum and nod. “One ‘Eddie Special,’ coming right up!” He kisses your forehead, it was too tempting to ignore, before getting up and heading for your kitchen. You listen to the sound of his rummaging through your kitchen and decide to switch on your stereo next to your bed. The normally harsh sounds of heavy metal guitars and drums is a quiet hum when Eddie returns. He comes back with a bowl of your favorite cereal, a banana, and a fresh cup of water— all balanced in his two hands. 

“Wooooow, room service? I should let you sleep in my bed more often,” you reach for the glass of water first and gulp it down. He gets back in bed, being extra careful of the milk in the bowl.

“Yes, you should,” he grumbles through a mouthful of cereal before handing you the bowl. You laugh and dig in, letting the morning go on at a comfortable pace. It’s just the two of you and a bowl of cereal. 

What more could he want?

Part II

Reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated!

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[arminsumi]

could you write anything about jealous aki? drabble/hc/ fic i'll take any thoughts you have on him

sending all the love to this beautiful blog of yours 💖💖💖

A Bit of A Situation

AKI アキ

Note : my moongem!! 😣💗 good to see u again!! thank u for bringing love n aki to me hehe. hope u enjoy!!

Aki; stood tall and stoic in an immaculately neat suit and tie.

His posture stiffens and throat constricts when he watches a sleazy co-worker chatting you up during a mission.

Aki's just cleaned his katana of blood with a smooth swipe of a cloth. He clicks it shut into its saya.

The co-worker isn't bad-looking, but Aki thinks you can do better. He clenches his jaw a bit when you laugh in response to his loud, obnoxious flirting.

Aki stares.

When he feels this prickling feeling in his chest, he's reminded of something someone asked him once;

"Aki, do you think you're the jealous type?"

"No, jealousy is immature."

And Aki has considered himself mature until he sees that sleazy co-worker chatting you up.

Why does it bother him? It just does. Aki heads over to you two, and uses his superiority to his advantage.

"Hey, idiots. Focus on the task at hand unless you want me putting your flirting session into my report to Makima, yeah?" he threatens with a stony face.

A stony face, a cold voice; but you smile when Aki speaks to you even if it's just to reprimand you. You just like him.

The co-worker disappears, leaning into his car to get his weapons and supplies.

"I wasn't flirting." you say to Aki, and he looks at you with slightly raised brows like he doesn't care.

"Okay." he responds, "I saw the exchange and saw you laughing with him. I think that constitutes as flirting."

"I was laughing at his attempt of flirting." you told him to clear up the misunderstanding.

Aki doesn't have a response; he feels a bit silly about his misjudgment.

He stiffens his shoulders.

You give him a smack on his shoulders.

"Lighten up. Your shoulders are so stiff sometimes I wonder if they're made of wood."

"I'm not usually this stiff, I swear." he replies awkwardly, like a teenager trying to prove to his crush that he's not a dork. It's funny to see small shifts in his demeanor when it's just you and him.

"What do you mean? You're always stiff. I think I should take you out for a spa day; you look like you could use a break."

Your name is called by another co-worker, detracting your attention from Aki. He feels a small pang of annoyance when the moment is interrupted.

"Ayyy, we need you. There's a bit of a situation in the lobby; we found someone's head."

You reply with one of your weird little jokes that Aki loves so much, "Oh no. Someone lost their head? That's not good, we should get it back on their shoulders. Okay, see you Aki."

"Don't call me Aki; I'm your senior."

"Mhm. My jealous senior." you tease flirtatiously.

Aki's back stiffens even more. He purses his lips and avoids your gaze, looking at the sky, the parking lot cars, the apartment windows, anything except you.

His eyes follow your back as you walk off to the apartment where the "situation" is commencing. Then he cringes at himself; crinkles the corners of his eyes and tightens his face like he just sucked on a lemon.

© arminsumi

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

[celestialanon]

Showering With Them

This is usually one of my favorite scenarios to write, so I had a lot of fun with this one. It is primarily fluff, so I do hope you all enjoy the read, dear readers <3

Lucifer

The one thing Lucifer has taken from his younger brother Asmo, was that the occasional bath was a good relaxer. And boy did he need it once in a while. The first time it happened, he was surprised that you suggested a bath together. Little did he know he would come to enjoy sharing a bath you more often then not.

You expressed how much he needed it for his body after a long day work, so he obliged and filled the tub with hot water. He’d let you run your hands over his shoulders, massaging soap into them to rid of the knots in his back. He’d sigh and basically melt into your touch, sometimes letting his back fall against your chest.

These shared baths became your way of pampering him. You’d help clean his body, his hair. You gently rubbed at his face, tracing his jaw and nose. You massaged his temples and watch as his face muscles relaxed. Then you’d move down to his hands and massage at them as well, they have done a lot of hard work.

Lucifer would always end up looking at you with an adoring smile on his face. He realized that he finally had someone to take care of him. He’d always return the favor, massaging at your own knuckles and grinning at the way you puckered your lips for him. Of course he’d give you a kiss, silly…

Mammon

The first time you have ever showered with Mammon, you quickly learned how much of a water hog he was. He would squeeze next to you to clean himself, making you eventually move away altogether because it was a tight fit. He ends up shaking his head like a wet dog to dry himself, droplets of water hitting your face.

Ever since the first time, he pretty much began inviting himself in whenever. He'd come looking for you in your room, only to hear the water running, your voice humming the tune of some song as you suspected yourself to be alone. He'd barge into the bathroom, ripping his clothes off in a manner of seconds to join you, ignoring your complaints with a large grin on his face.

Again, he totally takes up the space under the shower head, laughing at the way you frowned at him, your body getting cold. When the teasing games were over, he pulled you by the arms closer to his body, letting the water run over you as well. He would give your lips a small kiss, a small blush on his cheeks but nothing major.

You let him wash your hair. It reminds him of when he used to help his younger brothers bathe. Then you did the same, watching how his white hair mixes in with the white bubbles building up on his head. He tried to kiss you again, but you scrub the soap out of his hair and some of it gets in his mouth. He complains but you make sure to give him that kiss he wanted after.

Leviathan

It had taken some time to get Levi to be comfortable showering with you, but when you finally got him to, it became one of his favorite things to do with you. Usually it would be night showers together, getting ready for a long night of movie binging or game marathons. He would let himself in first, patiently waiting for you to join him with a small blush on his face.

It doesn't matter how much times he's seen your body, he's still amazed and goes red in the face when he's faced with it. You always give him a sweet smile in response. His demon form always came out when he showered, the warm water feeling soothing and comforting against his skin. Levi always felt a deep happiness sharing such an intimate thing with you, watching as you ran a loofa over his scales.

They glimmered with pearl like colors, he was so beautiful. And you always made it a point to tell him that as you gently scrubbed away. He'd have trouble stopping the smile growing on his face, because his heart soared at every compliment you gave him. You battled his insecurities with iron fists, usually rising victorious. You handled his body with such care, and he couldn't help but pull you in to press a kiss to your damp hair.

He'd make sure to tell you that you were the beautiful one, and that he's so happy to be showering with you at all. Really, Levi worshipped you and your body, and it never failed to make you feel better about yourself. Every shower with Levi was intimate in the most loving way possible. It was just you and him, raw emotion and even some bit of confidence from Levi as he let you clean his tail.

Satan

While Satan was one for private showers, he never refused your offers. Like Levi, it may have taken a moment before you finally got him with you, but when you did, it almost became routine. He’d end up offering more himself before settling into bed for the night.

You’d always help him scrub at the parts that were harder for him to reach, like his back. He was adamant on getting himself clean, and always ended up having his body completely covered in soap suds. You’d laugh at him, and he would trap you in a hug, making the soap cling to your body. Now you both looked ridiculous.

He always helped you clean yourself as well, occasionally placing a kiss to your shoulder as he washed your back. You’d look back at him with a smile, and the next second he’s splashed in the face with some water, along with a challenging smile from you.

Showers always ended up playful with Satan. Small taunts at each other as you got yourselves clean. It was a rather innocent act of teasing each other, and you both would be laughing as your foreheads rest together under the water.

Asmodeus

This guy much preferred his weekly baths, and of course, he loved sharing them with you more than anything. His tub was big enough for the both of you to get comfortable in. The water was always warm and soapy, smelling of rose petals and something sweet. It created a nice and steamy atmosphere.

While you preferred your showers, you quickly began to fall into rhythm with his bath times. He’d share all of his bath products with you that you never heard of before, you’d never use your old human products again. He’d let you go through the phases of washing his hair so that it’d come out as smooth as possible.

He loved the feeling of your fingers spreading soap against his body. This is Asmo we are talking about, so he couldn’t help his hands linger just a little bit when he was helping you clean your body. All in innocent fashion though, and his touches were sweet.

Bath time usually took quite some time, but you both came out with skin so smooth, and smelling so fresh. You could get used to this for sure. He would help pat you dry, and apply lotion to your skin. This was definitely his way of spoiling you.

Beelzebub

At first, you were afraid that the two of you wouldn’t be able to fit in the shower together. Beel had a large build, so it might be cramped. You were pleasantly surprised to find that the entire bathroom was one big shower space. There was a small stool that sat in the middle, a towel hanging over it.

You’d let Beel take a seat, covering himself with the towel while you positioned yourself behind him. You took good time to clean through his hair, a smile growing on his face at the feeling of your fingers. He was happy that you wanted to help him get clean, feeling all warm and fuzzy at the domestic act.

You’d carefully pour warm water over him with a bucket you found, and he hummed at the feeling of it over his skin. He offered you his seat, but you’d refuse and tell him that you still wanted to help him get clean. Scrubbing the loofa over his stomach had him chuckling, and you did the same when you heard it grumble.

You yourself cleaned up directly under the shower head, Beel watching you with a smile as he scrubbed at the rest of his body. Then he’d get up from his seat and join you, giving you a big back hug and loving the sound of your laugh.

Belphegor

Lazy morning showers were his go to. Most days he couldn’t be bothered, but after showering with you he finds himself forcing his body out of bed in the morning. You’d always greet him with a smile and lead his tired figure over to the bathroom, helping him undress himself.

The first few minutes of the shower always started with you trying to help him wake up more. He’d have his arms hooked around your waist, your body against his as he leaned against the shower wall. The warm water would run down his skin, and it felt as though it were encouraging him to fall victim to sleep once again.

You’d gently peel him off the wall and began helping him clean up, starting with his hair. It was funny the way it fell over his eyes when it became damp. He asked why you were making fun of him, but it’s only a little teasing. You reminded him that he looked cute that way, and he’d puff out his cheeks, not quite believing you.

He’d go back to leaning against the wall, watching you take care of yourself under the water. He’d be smiling like an idiot by the end of it, and you looked to him with a questioning expression. It was worth getting out of bed that morning.

[the-whispers-of-death]

can you do Keegan x male reader who is just a tad bit dumb. Like he is terrible at math, dense, silly, easily distracted. OH and gets lost a lot bcs he likes to wander?

I'll admit that I've never watched a play through of Call of Duty: Ghosts (I say watch because I'm not a gamer but have watched the reboot versions of Modern Warfare 1 & 2), but I have read through the Wiki pages of Keegan P. Russ, just for this. That being said, he's probably OOC (but I mean, I write all of them as softies so let's just chalk this up to that).

Another thing of note is that this civilian male reader. Also, I think I made him to be a little on the autism spectrum with the way he doesn't understand certain idioms and phrases.

I hope you enjoy!

**

Keegan loved you, in his own quiet way. He wasn't much of a talker, preferred to let you lead the conversation as you talked on and on about anything and everything. He mostly spoke to ask you something about what you were speaking on, a subtle indication that he was listening.

He loved you in the way he so patiently waited for you to solve a simple math problem, like how much difference a 10% off sale would make if the original price was fifteen dollars. He knew math wasn't your strong suit, but he didn't care. You'd arrive to the answer eventually, he knew that.

He loved you in the way he had to explain certain idioms and phrases to you, uncaring how you didn't even know that being offered to go to someone's place for a cup of coffee in the middle of night was an offer of sex. You didn't understand things sometimes and he understood that. They were intentionally vague, he'd tell you when you got flustered at being corrected about your misassumptions.

He loved you in the way you kept wandering off when walking around anywhere with him, whether it was you two walking in the park or out in a shopping center. Your attention was easily caught and it made you wander over to a plant or animal or piece of merchandise. He'd simply trail after you, smiling as you pointed out to him whatever you were looking at.

"Look, Keegan! A butterfly," you murmured, pointing at a nearby butterfly which was perched onto a flower. Its wings were so breathtaking, you just had to have stopped to look at the beautiful creature.

Keegan looked over your shoulder to the butterfly you were pointing at, chuckling in gentle amusement. "It's beautiful," he said before wrapping his arms around your waist from behind you. "But it's not as beautiful as my boyfriend."

Oh, how he relished the way you laughed and lit up in response. You loved when he called you his boyfriend, which you were. You had thought a military man—a Marine—like him would shy away from being out and proud about having a boyfriend, but he quickly proved you wrong.

His squad, the Ghosts, knew all about you. Keegan very happily told them about you, how your little quirks were so endearing. How you were the home he was fighting to go back to when he was on deployments. Oh they knew so well how much he loved you, how you were the sun and the moon and the stars of his universe.

You were everything to him and while he didn't say it often, he showed his love to you in so many ways.

How his hand reached for yours whenever you two were in a crowd so he didn't lose you if you wandered off. How he gave you the answers to a difficult math problem when you were clearly struggling to answer it. How he tried his best to word his sentences in a way that wasn't so vague so you didn't feel embarrassed about misinterpreting his words. How he drank in every word you said, relishing in the way your voice washed over him like a soothing balm to his soul.

Keegan loved you, though you were eccentric and loud where he was quiet and withdrawn. He never regretted being your boyfriend, not one single bit.

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and talk or request something! (SFW requests only, please and thank you)

[hystericstar]

I see you’re looking for writing requests 👀 may I suggest mirror sex with Sidon? That plus a size difference is just 🤤

Mirror sex is my weakness omg 😭😭

Y'all have SUCH good ideas 🤭🤭 I also added to it a little so I hope you don’t mind.

cw: doggy style, riding, mirror sex, size kink, reader gets Sidon a lil extra worked up, fingering, praise, fem reader, Sidon is dominant 🤭

! MDNI !

"M-more please!" You begged, wanting him to rock his hips into yours again. Harder, faster, anything but the slow agonizing pace he had initially set. 'Because I don't want to hurt you' he said. Maybe it was payback for jokingly calling him ‘your majesty’ all day, something that you did to get back at him whenever he did something silly with you. He hates when that word comes out of your mouth. If anything, he always said that he should be the one calling you that. To him, he was your lover full time. He loves his people but sometimes it just felt like the royal thing was a side hustle. But no matter what the case was, you just knew he was enjoying it. Enjoying the sounds of you begging for him to bring you as much pleasure as you could handle.

"So small..." He couldn't help but breathe against you. Truthfully, that wasn’t really it. Although he had forgotten the playful banter that filled his life earlier, and he admitted that your pleas made his chest swell with pride, it was the sight of him absolutely towering over your small form in the mirror that he was enjoying the most.

"Look." He pressed a hand to your chin, gently directing your gaze to the reflection in front of you. You made eye contact as he sat up, pulling you out of your previously bent over position and directing you to sit on him instead. "How cute." Sidon cooed while his hand moved to rest over the bulge in your tummy. “It’s like you were made to fit me.” He chuckled, flashing his signature smile at you through the mirror.

You averted your gaze down to his hand. As if you weren’t horny enough, he just had to go and point out how absolutely stuffed full you were. Sidon took hold of your hands and rested his head atop yours. “I know what you want pearl, but I can’t give it to you unless you use your words.”

You were defeated. The rasp in his voice was the cherry on top as you whined. “Sidon, I want you to fuck me. Please?” That’s what he wanted to hear. “Your wish is my command my love. However, there is one condition…” Your breath hitched when you heard the proposition.

“Look at me.” Your eyes obediently shot up at the order. “I’ll give you what you asked so nicely for, but you are to maintain eye contact with me the entire time. How’s that sound?” His authority made your mouth water in anticipation, the only response emanating from you was a pathetic ‘mhmm.’

“Good girl, that’s it.” He lifted you up by the waist and rocked upwards into you when he moved you back down. Your brows furrowed and your mouth was left agape. His movement progressively grew faster as the seconds passed. Once more, a hand moved to feel the bump on your stomach move up and down, before trailing lower to rub circles into your sensitive folds. That simple action was all it took for tears to build in your eyes.

“Look at your stomach love. I want you to take in how big I am compared to your tiny little hole. And that little hole is all mine. You like that, don’t you? Letting me have you all to myself while you take me so well.” His voice did nothing but echo through your head. Everything was so erotic. You could see how he was basically using you like a toy, moving you up and down while rutting into you, simultaneously filling the room with sounds of repeated skin-to-skin contact.

“A-ah! Yes! Im yours! All yours your majesty!” The sentence spewed out of you in the form of a wail. As soon as the word ‘majesty’ left your pretty little mouth, something in his eyes changed. In an instant, you found yourself laying on your stomach with your hips in the air. Sidon was on you with his chest pressed flush against your back and breath fanning against your ear. Yet his harsh movements never faltered.

“It appears you’ve forgotten my name. Perhaps I’m fucking you so well you can’t think straight? Oh well, I’ll simply just have to remind you, love. Not that I’d mind of course.”

He abruptly pulled out, watching you squirm and whine, trying to buck your hips back into him for more. The coil in the pit of your stomach was starting to fade way much to your displeasure.

“Don’t worry, all you have to do is say my name and I’ll reward you. Now, what’s my name, sweetheart?”

“S-Sidon” your breath was ragged and you could barely speak. Sidon wasn’t nearly as satisfied with your response. He put his hand against your neck and forced you to look up at the mirror. “Look at me when you say it. What’s my name?” “Sidon.” A finger rubbed at your clit slowly. “That’s better, but I want you to say it louder. Try again.” “Your name is Sidon!” This time it was a moan. “Louder. If you’re so insistent on calling me ‘majesty’, then I’ll ensure the whole kingdom hears you.”

“Y-your name is Sidon!” You peered into his golden eyes, raising your voice as best as you could all the while he started quickly fingering you. “Who’s making you feel this good?” “It’s- hah… it’s you Sidon!” The coil from before came back and grew tighter than last. “Thats it. Come for me my pearl.” After a few seconds, the coil snapped and your thighs quivered. He fingered you through your orgasm, taking note of the way your eyes rolled back and your lashes fluttered.

He allowed you a moment to catch your breath before speaking. “Beautiful. I hope you’ve still got energy. I’m not done with you yet. You can scream louder and you know it. Also, you didn’t look at me when you came.” That cheeky bastard-

You did NOT get a wink of sleep that night.

~《☆♡•°•°♡☆》~

tbh I kinda got distracted with the whole ‘louder’ Thing and I hope that’s not too obvious 😭😭

thank you for requesting!

[thelunarfairy]

I love your way of writing, if it's not too much to ask, could you write a romantic moment Hanene?

Of course, well, it was longer than it should have been, but I hope you like it ^^

I made this in a short time, so I hope it turned out well XD Sorry

I put some music in case you want to read while listening to it.

There may be some spelling errors and changes in pronouns because I translate the text from my language to English, I corrected them, but there may be some that I didn't notice.

Enjoy your reading.

Let’s start with a remarkable sunny November afternoon.

The intense sigh marked itself on the window glass like a grayish blur. As the golden eyes wandered around looking for something that was ailing him, oh, all those people outside having fun, running around, full of smiles and silly conversations that couldn't be heard from so far away. Sitting on the window sill of the women's bathroom, the ghost boy sighed his sorrows in silence, perhaps he was curious, perhaps envious, or who knows, nostalgic, what could those silent eyes tell us? He quickly grew tired of them, and finally looked up to watch the sun say goodbye, the refreshing breeze he heard as he watched the orange clouds take the sun with them, made him sigh again. He was waiting for her, he wanted to contemplate the arrival of his longtime companion.

"Are you waiting for the moon to come out?" - Nene carefully removes her apron while looking unpretentiously at the squeegees.

"She always comes"

"It's not like she had a choice not to come, right?" - Nene laughs at her own joke, but within seconds the laugh is suffocated by the lack of response from the boy at the window.

"What's wrong Hanako-kun? You've been quiet all day today."

Hanako's gaze lifted within seconds, as if he realized he had let on more than he should have. Then, he smiled without thinking twice.

"Oh, Yashiro, I ask you, why have I hardly heard any complaints from you today?"

"Isn't it better this way?" - She closes her eyes on impulse as she slightly turns her face to the side.

"Eh, it's boring, what's the problem?"

"Why are you using my question against me? You didn't answer me"

For a moment he swallowed hard, he rose from the sill and floated.

"You know, I was just thinking about life"

"But you're dead"

He quickly smiled and whispered to himself

"That is the problem"

"What did you say?" - Nene was curious, the sad look reflected again on that face slightly hidden beneath the dark hair.

She sighed indiscreetly, like a great wordless grumble, a complaint for an unsolvable problem.

"Hanako-kun, could you meet me on the roof?"

"Um? I thought you were going home."

"I will, but I need to do something important with you"

"Oh, you can't do anything without me, can you, I feel flattered" - he smiled as he floated around himself, doing a few light turns.

"Just wait for me there, I'll be back later"

Nene left and took with her the smile that was forcibly stretched across Hanako's face. The restless and lying smile that used to be his friend in inopportune moments, was not enough in happy moments, they had to come in sadness, to ease an invisible pain, which only he felt. Ah, it was tiring and so heavy that his feet rested on the floor, silence had returned to the house, it echoed on those red walls that were darkening as the sun said goodbye. The darkness was slowly hugging him…. But he had no problem, Hanako always hugged her back. …. The corridors were becoming empty, the footsteps were barely heard, one or the other was still standing in the distance, the lights were going out, many goodbyes and promises of reunions the next day, while Hanako slowly walked to the roof, which strangely seemed so far away now. Sometimes he would repeat the path for lack of anything to do, sometimes on purpose, just to walk endlessly through those corridors, in the hope that they would take him somewhere, but he had nowhere else to go. At least now he had one more reason. Before, he insisted on going there every day to contemplate the presence of an old friend. He used to tell the moon his deepest secrets, and he told her because she was great at keeping them. Was there anyone else more trustworthy than her? Oh, you can hear the laugh he would give if he heard us talk about this, and he would argue, there is no one more trustworthy than her. Who are we to doubt such an obstinate ghost. Questions began to arise in that young head beneath the hat, what did she want, and why so late after school? Before he allowed himself to dream, he thought about melodramatic love letters that Nene received by mistake, or about imaginable flirtations that she created in her head. See, the ghost boy thinking of thousands of different jokes to laugh at her when she tells him about some handsome boy who won her over quite easily. The laugh he gave coincided with his arrival on the roof, raising his head to greet his old friend who was watching him from the skies.

With his hands in his pockets, he waited patiently while he talked something to the moon, oh, yes, a secret, I couldn't hear it, it was a private conversation. Even though it was long, his eyes did not reflect happiness, but a melancholy that seemed to be rooted in those eyes. These, who turned slowly when he heard the voice of the girl who had invited him to the roof.

"Sorry for the delay, for a moment I thought I wouldn't be able to come" - she said, panting as she placed a large fabric bag with large straps on the floor.

She was different.

His gaze swept over her slowly, as if he had discovered a new work of art, from the emerald sandals perfectly fitted to those small feet, the bare ankles and legs up to the knees, slightly covered by the aqua green fabric. This one, which swayed slightly in harmony with the night breeze. Even her face, tired, red and slightly sweaty, she really tried hard to get there on time. Her labored breathing gave away the little run she took until she arrived. Standing up again, and leaving the support of her knees, she completely exposed the aqua green dress, which showed off the sleeves with white polka dots.

"Wow, you really are the color of a radish" - he said, smiling awkwardly.

"Radishes aren't green! They're white!"

"With green foliage - he continued - that explains why your hair reminds me so much of radishes"

"Hanako-kun! I'm going to go away and pretend none of this happened"

She filled up with air to the point of turning red, her arms crossed in disapproval making Hanako laugh. She wouldn't forgive him, not when she bought a new dress, but… She slowly lost the wrinkle between her eyebrows, which showed an old irritation that gradually dissipated when she noticed the ghost boy had a new palette of colors on his face. The blush that revealed his real feeling, it seems he didn't notice, he was too busy laughing at the very jokes he had been thinking about for the last few hours.

"Hanako-kun"

"Sorry, sorry… Ahem, so what did you want to talk to me about?"

"Well… it's just…."

Hanako yearned for that answer, how could he not? The eyes that danced from side to side to find comfort, the hands that clenched the hem of the dress, the red face. Was she nervous?

"You promised me!"

"I promised?" - genuinely curious eyes roam the skies trying to find answers, memories of a supposed promise.

"I promised what Yashiro?"

"You… didn't promise but… you asked me to go to the cinema"

He swallows, eyes duly bulging to show his astonishment.

"You remember, don't you Hanako-kun?"

"Ah…. that"

"It was you, you were Amane, you always were from the beginning…when we were in that fake world…"

Silence became a third companion, or should I say, silence of words, the breeze continued to whisper, almost like an intrusion into that temporarily non-existent conversation.

"I can't leave school Yashiro"

The eyes hid below the brim of the hat, the hands came together to generate some comfort. That melancholy air in the window had returned.

"Well, you don't need to go anywhere, I…"

His gaze lifted again, waiting for the rest of the answer. It didn't come through words. Nene took the liberty to finally show why she brought that big fabric bag that seemed to suffer so much to keep everything inside it. Soon, everything began to take shape while Hanako turned cherry red. The whimsy, the subtlety, watching her try to place the fabric on the floor without the wind disturbing her, or placing each item of the bag to form a new cozy place. He could see her light and slightly greenish hair dance in rhythm with the wind, she was so obstinate in keeping a small puff in the right position, that she didn't notice the ribbon untying and slowly saying goodbye to those hair. Ah, Hanako wished it would become that ribbon, which would slowly fall as it ran along her body. A forbidden desire, which came without permission, and which passed when he saw her quickly get up to show the finished work, Nene turned to him with open arms and excited, as if she wanted to embrace the world.

"Ta-dah!"

"That…"

Coziness, a small place on the roof covered in the purest nectar of innocence. Happiness permeating her smile, proud of having created that small place, covered in dark bluish fabrics, which remained quiet even with the intrusion of the night breeze, the two small puffs positioned next to each other, and in the center, of course, a bucket of popcorn.

"I brought the cinema!"

His eyes watered a little, not so much that she noticed, and not so little that it didn't happen. For a moment, he forgot how to use the words, they were gone, they wouldn't come out.

"Ah, I almost forgot" - the smile accompanied her as she searched the bag, now relieved that it was almost empty, when she got up, she showed him another smaller bag.

"They're your favorites, aren't they?"

Her smile almost made him tear up, how could he know how to deal with such a new experience, so genuinely unprecedented that he didn't know how to keep his heartbeat in rhythm, he who previously didn't know how to speak, has now unlearned how to smile.

"I… I could only bring my tablet, it's not a big movie screen, but for both of us it's enough, isn't it? Here, get some donuts, I'll put the tablet in its place"

She handed him the bag as she sat down to prop up the tablet. It happened so quickly, when he noticed he was already sitting next to her watching a mysterious film about hamsters in a war in space. Hanako remained in painfully interminable silence. Rhetoric of lovers, give me an exact and poetic comparison to say what those eyes of Hanako were like, while he observed every detail of that skin, that face, that hair that insisted on dancing with the night wind. How much he wanted to finger those hairs endlessly until his fingers fell off. How much he wished to be trapped eternally in that embrace he wanted to tie himself to. How much he wanted her scent to impregnate him so he could never forget it. A feeling so intensely strong that they were tied to each other without even noticing, a genuinely desired hug, hearts beating fast, oh, what were they supposed to do now everything was hot, even the popcorn and donuts until then untouched. The sky looked inviting that night, and even though Hanako tried to look at it countless times in search of words, he couldn't find anything other than genuine happiness, his breathing was labored, his face was painted red, the movie was ending. What should he say? The stars did not respond. The anxiety was born when the credits rolled, when he imagined that Nene would move away from the hug to turn off the tablet, but instead, she remained motionless, and he only heard her melodious voice.

"I could wish we could stay like this forever"

Anxiety became torment, turned into sadness, Hanako's lips no longer had room for a smile.

"I'm sorry - he tightens the hug, as if he was afraid that she would vaporize at any moment - I…."

"Hanako-kun…"

"I can't give you… I can't give you what you want, I can't introduce you to my parents, I can't get married and have children with you, I can't… I can't be the person I wanted to be… I can't even take you to the movies…"

The hidden eyes, before so bright, Nene couldn't see them, Hanako was hugging her tightly while he hid his face in her shoulder.

"I…."

The sound of silence returned, Nene's panting made him anxious, the fear of the answer, his heart racing at the thought of the impossible.

"I chose you Hanako-kun…."

….

"I chose you, Amane"

His eyes slowly lifted, meeting hers, so shyly that it seemed like sin, the trapped words that were expressed through those golden eyes, brought him closer and closer. Tied in a long hug, now looking fixedly at each other, their breathing mixing, hearts beating together in the same rhythm, Hanako's whisper as he got so close to her lips

"Yashiro… I… I love…

"What are you guys doing?!"

The high-pitched, irritating voice broke the moment into small pieces within seconds.

"Mi… Mitsuba-Kun?" - Nene screams in response.

"Are you guys on a date? Gross."

"Who's on a date?" - a similar voice came from behind Mitsuba.

"Ah… Tsukasa…." - Hanako sighs.

Hanako and Nene look at each other for a moment, and intense laughter is heard between them.

"What's wrong with these two? I'm not going to stay here to find out, let's go Tsukasa-kun" - Mitsuba pulls him by the arm.

"But why?"

"Come on, I'll take you to play Katanuki"

The voices became more distant and distant. Hanako and Nene sigh almost in a shared way. Silence returned again.

"..... Hanako-kun?"

He smiled sideways, showing his mischievous eyes, which now hide a truth that was almost said, ah, it's sad. The truth through words did not come, but in its place the genuine proof of love and desire he could demonstrate. The meeting of lovers, the meeting of lips, a smile here and there between this infinite kiss that he wanted to make a loop so that it would never end.

Ah, the moon knew what his desire was at that moment. Hanako's desire, the desire to be the living boy who would be by her side, who would give her everything she wanted most… little did he know that he was her greatest desire.

[philtstone]

half wordless, half in elven-tongue

Summary: There is something very practical about Arwen’s ancient and much-powerful grandmother (for an Elf, anyway) that Arwen admires, for she herself has sometimes found it difficult to achieve practicality. Estel, Man though he is, appreciates her fancies very much. He and his poet’s soul. She has spent the last twenty years sharing them with him in her letters, and every response (growing fewer and fewer until these last six months they stopped entirely) has him writing back like one offered water in the desert.

Arwen does not mind; it is not as though she herself has much more sense, climbing into bed with him as she does.

huge shoutout to @firstelevens for reading thru this and telling me it didn't suck despite not really going here. also, a secondary shoutout to @btwxsixesandsevens for gong here even less but inadvertently inspiring the "lover from a story" bit with their (as always) brilliant fic writing. would never have spent 3 weeks agonizing over this otherwise!!!

3rd October, 2952

Mellon,

I’m late writing you for entirely explainable reasons. You will say, not so unusual for you – that is not true, and you are only very over-eager writing me, which should not be as pleasant a revelation as it is – but anyhow, here it is. We’ve had many visitors of late, and my skill was needed in the healing den. Of course, I thought of you (in all Ada’s training I have not read nearly so much about the virtues of athelas as I did skimming your last letter) but I urge you not to worry, as we are all well here and there is no contagious illness. Your presence would have been appreciated though. If not by Ada (he sits in the study sometimes and looks yearningly out the window; I know he is missing you, though he won’t admit to it) than by the poor Dwarf whose stomach could not settle. You were always very good at getting a smile out of even the most stubborn of silly souls. 

On that point, how has it been on the frontier of friend-finding? I know you must not be in the Wilds any longer. Given how swiftly we understood each other, I am sure you will have no trouble at all on that front. Send updates soon,

AE

6th February, 2953

Estel,

Is the Angle so very cold as all that? Do not despair at the stiffness of your welcome (or in your bones!). You are still their kindred and that is manifest even in the curve of the characters you write: you love them already, do you not? Do not deny it. 

I am very intrigued by your observations on the rouge-wearing practices of your people and cannot help but wonder if it is an exclusively Mannish preference. I certainly do not wear it, but I have seen portraits and I do believe Uncle Elros did. I cannot determine the colour, however, as the portrait is old. Thoughts? 

You will see I have many questions today. Your insistence that every Dunedain woman you meet feels akin to a cousin or aunt is terribly amusing (I am almost convinced you are making a joke — are you?). I am sure at least one of them does not reciprocate that sentiment. Are they still wary of you, or very forward now? What is the food like? How many teeth have you broken upon the infamous bread you described? Have you met your grandfather yet? (I remember you were worried about that). 

Do not let the cold seep in too much. You must wear warm socks and eat foods that keep the blood warm. I may be an Elf, but my healing arts extend to many races, so you are thus obliged to listen to me. 

As for the rest – your people will love you soon as you do them, for such a love as the one you give is easy to return. You are certainly very likeable, at any rate, and I will argue with anyone who disagrees. 

Have hope, and be well. All will be as it should.

14th March, 2953

Do not say you listen to me on all fronts, as I have it in writing by your own hand that you have not eaten in three days. In the cold! Foolish man.

25th January, 2956

Elves do not experience such monthly pains, as you well know Estel. Or perhaps you do not, in which case I must chide Ada for thus limiting your training in the healing arts. Childbirth and bearing is a region most important, as I have learned (I can already imagine your blush) from your own mother, with whom I’ve spoken three times since your last letter. I have decided we must become fast friends, and her efforts at formality are altogether poor anyway; her face is as open as yours often is, and it warms me to know whence that quality came. 

Anyhow. The blood in your vest. There is clay that runs beneath the bark of some trees that will remove stains made by bodily fluid. Also vinegar, if you are near a homestead.

READ MORE

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

Ari I’m crawling through the desert in need of water…humbly I beg & plead for your Ken-geto twin AU headcanons 🙏🙏🙏 I think they’re the only thing that can quench my soul rn

ODI . MY BELOVED . I LOVE YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS WAHHHH pls take a seat and get ready for a long long rant……… i’ll do my best to quench your thirst 🙏🙏🙏

OKAY SO . god. where do i even begin………

basically!!!!! i’m writing a fic where kenny is. your best friend’s older brother <33333 the best friend in question being sugu!!! i still haven’t decided if they’re twins or if kenny is a couple years older…… buuuut either way i have lots n lots of thoughts abt their dynamic :33 and how the two of them treat you!!!! sugu is just…. your reliable, soft best friend, and kenny is . the way he is 😭 but anyway…..

i picture kenny as being a bitttt of a bad boy in this au?? not exactly. but like. he has a tongue piercing and moved out really early and he’s maybe a little bit twisted . cares abt suguru but can’t really show it. he’s silly and talkative but also a bit condescending…. a bit of a know it all…… i feel like he almost acts more like a father than an older brother sometimes which suguru absolutely hates 😭 there’s a lot of tension between them!!

personality wise i feel like suguru sort of . adapts to kenjaku? he’s a bit of a social chameleon. and he really doesn’t like the idea of people seeing them as similar…. so if kenny is acting more serious and pretentious, suguru acts more childish — and if kenny acts more silly then suguru takes a more responsible role . it’s like that!!! it’s weird bc i see suguru as being very sincere at heart, and kenny as being fairly insincere, but with the way they act you could get the impression that it’s the other way around. kenny doesn’t care abt how others view him, suguru very much does. but sugu has a sincerity to him that kenny kind of lacks?? ig it’s less that kenny is insincere and more that he’s just. detached. in a way.

also sidenote kinda but !!! i picture both sugu and kenny as sweater boys 😭😭 they LOVE their sweaters. i feel like kenny wears turtlenecks religiously. and sugu goes out of his way to wear more leather jackets and hoodies bc he doesn’t like when they’re wearing the same stuff LMAO…. kenny sometimes makes their outfits match just to piss him off <333

anddddd going back to the whole . brotherly rivalry stuff…… i think kenny was always a bit of a black sheep growing up . and bc of that suguru automatically became the golden child!!! sugu can be mischievous and bratty but he gets away w it bc he’s the youngest/good at hiding it…. and in front of their parents he’s always very straightlaced. it’s almost like suguru holds back just so that he won’t appear similar to his brother, which i think kenny kind of finds pathetic. there’s just soooo much to their dynamic 😭😭 they’re similar and different and just. gah. they give me a headache!!!! bc kenny is such a wildcard in the way that he acts, and suguru is so prone to changing himself depending on the situation he’s in.

but overall i just feel like kenny is pretentious and teasing…. and kinda mean . while sugu is well-behaved and calm, but a little more teasing and silly around people he’s close to….. and he’s also super kind . he’s warm!!!! and kenny is sort of cold. that’s the way i picture their dynamic. but it’s very fluid i think …. sometimes kenny acts like the oldest, sometimes the youngest LMAO

ANYWAYYYY gosh i’m already yapping so much 😭😭😭 I HOPE YOU’RE STILL HERE ODI ….. here’s another drink for you 🧋 .

now !!!! when it comes to their dynamic with you…… 👀👀 suguru is just a protective softie. he loves you so much!!! you’re his bestie!!!! and you’re the only one he ever acts bratty and pouty with…. he just feels comfortable around you :’3 so he can let his guard down and be a little silly… a little teasing….. but he’s always always always taking care of you . a warm sunflower boy <333333

then there’s kenny who . bullies you a bit 😭 JUST A BIT . bc he likes seeing your reactions <3 he’s kind of like your typical intimidating best friend’s brother…. a little scary ……. a bit of a dick….. he looks after you in his own way but . he doesn’t coddle you the way suguru does. when you’re kids he’s someone you look up to, but also someone you’re a tinyyyyy bit afraid of . but you get a crush on him anyway . and he has a soft spot for you. and then he leaves and doesn’t return until a couple years later ………. and he hasn’t really changed. but he’s less of a bully and more of a teaser. maybe a little condescending. but he’s charming, yk? alluring.

anyway as you can see i’m getting carried away LMAOO this fic is just . fluff?? kind of??? w a lot of tension 😭 you like kenny and he . well. you just don’t know what he’s thinking . he kind of sees you as a baby bird i think,,,,,,,,, and he’s . the big bad wolf. you get the vibes …….. here r some snippets of the fic just for fun!! it’s very near and dear to my heart hehe

—

—

…….. he has me in a chokehold i fear 💔

[novelizt]

HEY LIZZIE

Just here to ask you what your fav LW&Co fics are that you’ve wrote. Like ones your particularly proud of 😁

Hi, Eli!! AHHH I LOVE THIS QUESTION

I don't mean to sound narcissistic but I'm generally in love with everything I write. It's fun to look back and go, "Holy crap. I wrote that? How insane of me." I can turn my brain mush into stuff people in fandom can enjoy! Sometimes just seeing how much I write makes me proud of myself. I think a lot of writers can relate to that feeling of being proud of just putting their work out there and having people enjoy it.

Personally, I indulge in reading which parts my readers enjoy the most. Nothing screams unity like crying over our favourite boys. It makes me feel important even if all I do is play games and write silly little stories hehe

That said, I have a few favourites, as does any parent.

First up is Peering Eyes Over Wrought-Iron Fences. I never finished a long fic before this one so I'm always giddy to remember that it got the ball rolling for me. That and I just love the idea of having a window next to your childhood friend(and future lover 🤭)'s window!

Next is my longest project ever, the Hogwarts AU: Expecto Patronum. I love Harry Potter and childhood rivals to lovers and Anthony Lockwood. 'nuff said. I loved writing it and I adored the responses it got and I squeal every time I remember your art of Slytherin Lockwood! Everything about it makes me happy 🥰

Last but definitely not the least, The Complications of A Fake Engagement! This fic still has the most notes I've ever gotten on a fic and knowing that it's enjoyed it makes me giddy. I like to think that the exposure it got makes it eligible to be someone's comfort fic. That possibility never fails to make me smile.

Sorry my response is so long, I got lost in the sauce XD I love talking about my stuff and I'm sure other authors do too. So, I hope you don't mind me tagging my favourites (@atlabeth @tangledinlove @lewkwoodnco @bella-rose29 ) because I'd love to hear which of your fics are you guys most proud of! And for the lovely Eli, I'd also love to hear which one of my fics left an impression on you and why 💙

P.S. Your Parachutes request is in the works. I have it plotted, I've just been so addicted to Genshin that I haven't worked on it much lol. I'm trying to rectify that now!

P.P.S. Get ready, I also have the Royal Suits series in the works; Four fantasy Lockwood fics where the reader is a princess of a Card Suit kingdom ✨

[cloudlessly-light]

Sometimes I feel like I keep sending my promts like a crazy fan girl. But I think I am a crazy fan girl. So I have this thing in my mind. Hotch and Em saw each other naked once and Emily knows that bossman has big dick energy and HUGE DICK in his pants. So after they got together Aaron is afraid he will hurt Emily (cause nobody could take him all inside) so that’s why he doesn’t go all the way but Emily is sooo excited and says “I want it all”. I hope I’m not too crazy :)

A/N 1: Hey all you wonderful people, I’m officially back from my little break and I have a few things in the works that I really hope you like, but first we’re going back to old school Sara and doing a Hotchniss filth based on an ask! A/N 2: Hi Anon! Thank you so much, I always like hearing that people enjoy these silly little writings of mine! Title: Give me everything you want and need Summary: Emily accidentally walks in on Aaron in the shower when they’re forced to share a room. She’s impressed. Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3,1k Warnings: Smut, dirty talk, BDE Hotch (Yes that deserves its own warning), multiple orgasms, spanking (blink and you miss it)

 It’s an accident, it’s not like she planned for it to happen, it was one of those moments that she’d think back on and wonder why. But she was also happy that it happened, even though it was embarrassing, it was kind of their turning point.

She’s coming back from JJ’s room, the woman too pregnant for it to be fair for her to share a room so Emily had ended up sharing a room with Aaron. She didn’t know that he was back from the precinct, to be honest she kind of figured that he’d stay there all night. So she enters the hotel room and pulls her shirt off, followed by her pants and is heading into the bathroom when she sees him.

Aaron looks as shocked as she feels as he quickly grabs the towel on the sink, completely naked in front of his subordinate.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” She doesn’t mean to stare, but for a moment she lets herself. She sees the droplets of water dripping from his short hair, down his chest, covered with fine dark hair and further down where she got a glimpse of Aaron Hotchner in all his glory. And what a glory it was.

“Prentiss!” He all but yells when she doesn’t immediately turn away which makes her realize that her tiny thong and almost sheer bra is barely even covering her and she slams the door shut.

“I’m sorry!” She says again through the door as she frantically pulls her clothes back on. “I-I’ll sleep in Derek’s room.” Her voice lowers as he comes out of the bathroom, towel secured around his hips and a glare in his eye. “I thought you were still at the station.” She tries to explain but he just keeps staring at her and she feels herself wanting to squirm under the intensity of his gaze.

“It’s almost 2AM.” He says and she’s unsure if that’s his response to why he’s back to get a few hours of sleep, or his way to object to waking up Derek and Spencer in the next room so she just stares mutely at him.

The tension is thick, both of them simply staring at each other for what feels like hours until he sighs.

“Just, don’t mention this again.” He says and she hates the fact that her cheeks tint pink at the mere thought of him naked.

“This never happened.” She tells him and he offers a small smile.

It doesn’t surprise either of them when Emily finds herself outside his door less than two weeks later, kissing him with all the desire she’s felt for years.

But they don’t end up in bed that night, instead their kisses turn into a long talk, admittance of attraction and feelings until they fall asleep wrapped up in each other. So they start dating, and it’s easier that she’d ever thought it would be, except for the fact that Aaron would stop her wandering hands or searching lips once they got past the point of making out like teenagers.

It frustrated her, because she could feel him, huge and hard and pressing against her as she straddled his lap but he would stop her every time. A few weeks go by and she’s so wound up that she was sure that she’d implode from the heated tension that never seemed to leave her body, even after trying to take matters into her own hands, literally. But she didn’t want to rush him, she figured that he wanted to take it slow because she’d be the first woman after Haley, he wanted to be sure and she respected that.

They’re working a local case and she had just finished an interrogation with him, he had been intimidating and arrogant, bordering on aggressive with the unsub cowering in front of them. And Emily could feel the way her thighs clenched under the table, the steady thump of want, the heat of her arousal. He had always been impressive, had always demanded respect with as little as a look, but since they started dating she found it harder to control her body’s urges.

They leave Quantico that night with a case solved and a murderer in custody and Emily doesn’t question when he follows her home in his car. The team didn’t know about them yet and she would be lying if she said it wasn’t fun sneaking around.

“You were hot today.” She muses against his lips as he presses her against her front door before she turns in his arms, her hand trembling as she tries to get the key in the lock.

“Is that so?” He chuckles and presses a chaste kiss to her neck from behind and then patiently waits for her to unlock the door.

“Yes.” She opens the door and turns to take his hand, big and warm and starting to feel right in hers. “Always appreciated a handsome man in a suit, being decisive.” Her eyebrow arched as she smirked when his hands landed on her hips, pulling her closer to him just as the door closed behind him.

“I see.” He nuzzled her nose, teasing her before giving her a kiss that is supposed to be quick, but he easily finds himself unable to move away. She was addictive, a drug he never wanted to quit. He only pulled away from her when her stomach rumbled and he chuckled. “Are you hungry, sweetheart?”

“Didn’t have time for lunch.” She shrugged, it wasn’t unusual but Aaron hated when she skipped a meal and he frowned at her. “Italian?” She asked before he had a chance to reprimand her.

“Sounds good.” He was already picking up his phone and dialed the number to the restaurant he knew she loved. “Go shower, change, I’ll pick up dinner.” He smiled and Emily tried to ignore the flutter in her chest that he knew her well enough already to know that she always wanted to shower the stench of murder off her the moment she came home.

She showers quickly and changes into an old shirt and shorts that she knows are too short but she doesn’t care. The way his eyes lingers on her exposed legs when she comes back down the stairs makes satisfaction tingle along her spine and she pretends not to notice the way his jaw clenches and he swallows harder.

“This smells delicious.” She says instead and sits down at the table where he had just finished putting the food out. “Thank you, honey.” She kisses him after he’s sat down next to her, her lips lingering a little longer than necessary. She hums softly when his hand lands on her thigh, his fingers digging into the soft skin for a moment, like he’s trying to refrain himself from doing more.

“Let’s eat.” He mumbles when she pulls back and he almost groans at the familiar way her pupils dilated with want.

They eat and talk easily, always finding things to discuss and share, but there’s a tension between them, the same tension that had been in that hotel room when she walked in on him in the shower. She could tell that he was nervous but she couldn’t figure out why.

She lasts through dinner and approximately twenty minutes into the movie they decided to watch before her lips find his jaw, slow kisses pressed against his stubble as she laid halfway on top of him already. His respond is almost immediate, his hands tightening on her waist and moving down to grab her ass, his lips on hers as he pushes his tongue against hers.

“Aaron.” She sighs into his mouth and it’s breathy and low and he groans. The sound encourages her and she straddles him fully, her hands on his chest as she looks down at him.

“Em.” He tries to control his body, but the mere thought of having to stop her again felt like an impossibility. He had wanted her for years, the last few weeks had been close to agony, but he didn’t want to hurt her, knew that he probably would because how could he not when no woman had been able to take him before?

“Don’t.” She whispered, her hands fisting his shirt in desperation. “Please don’t.” She grinded on his lap, felt the evidence of his arousal pressing against her through his pants.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He said quietly, his eyes moving over her face and he could see the realization hitting her.

“You won’t hurt me.” She said softly but she could feel want and desperation clouding her senses, her hips subtly continuing to roll against his.

“No one’s been able to- to take all of me.” He almost stuttered over his words and he was sure Emily’s eyes only darkened, her cheeks flushing pink as she leaned down to press a teasing kiss against his lips.

“I want it all, I want all of you so badly I can’t even think straight.” She whispered, her words falling against his face in soft puffs. “I’ll stop you if it’s too much.” She promises and she can feel his hands gripping her tighter, his eyes boring into hers. “I promise.”

He takes another moment but he can see the desperation on her face, can feel her body pressing into his and his own arousal painstakingly clear.

“Okay.” He nodded and kissed the grin from her lips. “But let’s go upstairs to your bed, more room.” He smirked at the way her eyebrow arched and then all but chased her up the stairs as she hurried up towards the bed.

Emily laughs when he pulls her against his body, immediately going to tug her shirt over her head. She gasped as he licked over her pulse, bit the junction of her neck and shoulder, his hands moving the newly exposed skin until he tugs her nipples between gun-calloused fingers.

“I’ve thought about this since that damn bathroom.” He mumbled against her ear and she shivered.

“You’ve been the one making me wait.” She tries to tease but it packs little punch when she whimpers and arches into his touch. Her fingers move over the buttons on his shirt quickly and she thinks she deserve some credit for not just tearing it open in her haste to get him naked and inside of her.

“No more waiting.” He all but growls and pushes her back onto the bed. His eyes rake over her exposed torso, his fingers soon pulling her shorts off her hips, a smirk on his lips when he realizes she’s not wearing underwear. “Dirty girl.” His voice is so low she shudders from it, his eyes predatory as he crawls between her spread legs.

She tries to sneak a hand between them to get his belt unbuckled but grabs her hand, pins both of them above her head with a low hum of satisfaction as the other move between their bodies, the tip of his finger moving through her wetness gently.

“Gotta get you ready.” He mumbles lowly then kisses the whine from her lips as he pushes one finger inside of her. “So fucking wet, already.”

She blushes, the pink of her cheeks trailing down her chest as her hips buckle into his touch.

“You’ve teased me for weeks.” She huffs and he chuckles at her impatience, his smirk only widening when he pushes a second finger inside of her and curls them causing her to arch into him.

“So tight.” He breathes against her neck and she twists in his grip but he only tightens his hold on her wrists. “You’re going to come all over my hand.” His words are hushed and she can’t do anything but whimper in response. “And then you’re going to take all of my cock, aren’t you?” His hips grind into the bed at the thought, his hesitations gone now that they had gotten this far.

“Yes,” She whines “all of it, please.” Her legs widened as the palm of his hand rubbed against her clit, the pleasure building steadily as he kept curling his thick fingers inside of her, her wetness coating his hand. Her jaw went slack and her head fell back against the bed when he pressed a third finger inside of her, stretching her cunt and making her moan breathlessly.

“That’s it, good girl.” He watched the pleasure reflected on her face, could feel her walls tightening around his fingers.

“Don’t stop.” She gasped as her thighs trembled. Her hips buckled into his hand, her body chasing the release she had craved for weeks. “I’m so close- I- fuck!” Her orgasm ripped through her fast and hard, causing her to gasp for air as her eyes rolled back and her hands fisted above her.

Aaron bit back a groan as she came all over his fingers, her pussy so tight he could barely move his fingers so he focused on pressing the heel of his hand against her clit, drawing out her pleasure until she was whimpering and trembling underneath him. When she finally relaxed he gently let go of her wrists and removed his fingers from inside of her. He licked her wetness off them and waited for her to stop panting with a smug look on his face.

“Aaron,” She breathed as her eyelids fluttered open and she looked up at him, dark eyes, breathing labored, his cock hard and huge as it strained inside his pants. “fuck me.” She sat up so fast he barely registered it and claimed his lips in a kiss, her hands moving to get his belt unbuckled and pants undone. She helped him kick them away and when he finally hovered above her again she wrapped her legs around his hips.

He groaned against her lips as the tip of him nudged between her lips, let himself grind against her for a few moments, coating the underside of his shaft with her. He looked down at her when he pushed his cockhead slowly inside of her, careful not to go too fast.

Emily whimpered at the stretch, his cock easily the biggest she’d ever had inside of her. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as he pressed inch after inch inside of her, the stretch painful but deliciously addictive.

“Don’t fucking stop.” She grunted when he faltered, her legs tightening around him. Her eyes met his and she nodded at his wordless question. “Don’t stop.” She repeated quietly.

“Fuck Em, you’re perfect.” He mumbled against her lips as they kissed messily, his hips pressing into hers until he was fully inside of her. She was clenching around his shaft, trying to accommodate to the stretch, but instead of pushing him away she relished in it.

“Move, Aaron move.” She warned, desperate for him. She could feel every ridge of him, could feel her the slightly painful stretch morph into pleasure when he started to pull back, her walls clinging to him.

He groaned loudly as he started to thrust, slow and long strokes of his hips, almost pulling out before filling her completely over and over again.

“Fucking made for me, made to take my cock.” He mumbled between haste kisses against her neck, his forehead soon landing on her shoulder as he started to fuck her harder.

“Jesus Christ, you’re so fucking big.��� She panted as her short nails scratched over his shoulders and arms, leaving evidence of her on his skin. He was hitting into her perfectly, making the heat of a second orgasm build in record time, her moans and whimpers only spurring him on.

“Come on me again, let me feel you squeeze my cock.” He pushed up to kneel between her legs, his thumb finding her clit and rubbing it in circles.

She could barely breathe as he forced another orgasm through her, her back arching and hands fisting the sheets to keep herself grounded as the heat inside of her expanded by every thrust of his hips.

His name fell from her lips like a mantra, the only word she could get out through her loud moans until she was coming again with a cry of pleasure. She could barely hear his grunt as she tightened around him, could barely focus on anything but the earth-shattering pleasure of her orgasm until he was flipping her around and filling her from behind.

“Your cunt is mine.” He growled in her ear as he straddled her thighs and fucked her into the bed, no longer concerned that she wouldn’t be able to take him. “Say it!” He spanked her twice in quick succession and she only pushed her ass up, so he did it again.

“My cunt is yours.” She whined, the slight sting of his hand only making her shiver with want.

“Good girl.” His graveled voice sent tingles down her spine, his hands on either side of her shoulders, keeping her trapped between his strong chest and the soft bed. “Gonna fill you up.”

Emily couldn’t answer, she could barely breathe as he fucked her hard enough to make her body jolt, her clit pushed into the bed by every thrust. She was too sensitive, it was too much, it was perfect. She felt his teeth dig into the back of her neck, felt his ragged breathing against her sweaty skin as he chased his own release.

“Aaron, please…” She wasn’t sure what she was begging for, her mind delirious and hazy, all she could feel was him, all she could think about was him.

“Gonna cum again?” It was rhetorical, his voice smug even as he panted above her, he felt her body tense, felt her walls tighten and Emily nodded.

“Yes, yes, yes I’m so close.” She felt his fingers intertwine with hers as his hips somehow sped up even more, slamming into her hard enough for the bed to quake.

“Come with me.” He grunted in her ear, the strain in his voice palpable. She was still nodding when her orgasm ripped through her, dragging him with her as they strained and moaned together.

Emily felt the heat of his release deep inside of her, making her gasp and then he collapsed beside her exhausted body, his panting harsh as he started to laugh.

“That was amazing.” He pulled her into him, pressed a haste kiss against her forehead and cheeks, then against her lips. “You’re amazing.” He breathed with a smile.

“You are too.” She whispered happily, her hand on his cheek. They fell into a comfortable silence as they let their bodies relax and their breathing returned to normal. After a few minutes she turned to him with a smirk. “You should have just fucked me in that hotel.” She teased and he chuckled.

“I really should have.”  

[altraviolet]

This might be a weird question, but do you ever get sad that Echo Garden is going to end? I know it's not actually extremely close to being done, but I already know I'm going to miss it

I'll miss reading Soundwave having silly interactions, I'll miss the wonderful side characters (Toaster best boy)

I'll miss the way you make characters feel so alive, how the world you write feels so enthralling. I'll miss this Lost Light, and their alternate universes, and all the adventures they'll have after the story ends

YES

How do I make the font bigger. Also sorry this response got really long.

YES I GET WEIRD AND SAD ABOUT IT. I feel a LOT of things (which I'll get into). I actually started feeling sad about it at least a year ago. It's VERY weird to be this brain-deep into a story and know it has a lifespan. I've gone through this before with my other very long fic. That ended and I felt really accomplished, but kind of sad. But I ended it in a way that made the reader feel like what we saw was just a peek into their lives. They had lives before we intruded and they'll have lives after our eyes have turned away. The TEG ending won't quite hit that note, at least in the same way, but I am still VERY excited for the last line (for nerdass English teacher reasons)

(I'm not an English teacher)

(I'm excited for reasons your high school English teacher would be excited ANYWAY)

Yes, I will be sad to let this go. But, to be honest, I'll also be relieved, because the story is massive. It's sometimes daunting to write, and at this point, every chapter is draining to write. I am so happy people say that they find the characters' emotions easy to identify with, because I put ALL MY BRAIN into writing those emotions. It's almost like acting in my head: I live through all those emotions over and over as I write and edit each part. So, I am tired.

I find the audience size a little daunting. I've never done ANYthing in my life that had an audience of 1000+ people. I've presented to hundreds, but never thousands. I also - and this is not something I keep a secret, but it's also something I don't mention often - feel very very skeeved out at the minors that are reading this fic. I know they're there and it's grossssssssss... I've come close to deleting the story more than once because of that. I'm feeling really asdlfkajsf about the next chapter because of that. Like. They don't respect the rating or the warnings I put on there, so there's nothing I can do. So once the story is done, at least I won't be thinking about that anymore, eugh.

So sad, relieved, daunting... what else? I will feel accomplished. It looks like this sucker is going to cross 300,000 words and that is MIND BLOWING to me. I'm going to feel so happy about that :)

And...! I've been considering this fic practice for writing (in terms of description, dialog, story arc, character arc) for original work. I dunno if I'd tell you all when I wrote something original. Maybe it's best to keep names separate. Maybe you'll find me anyway ;) But yeah. Echo Garden is a huge love letter to the original work and also practice for future work that, I hope, people will also love.

WHICH REMINDS ME sorry this is getting long. The feelings you feel for TEG are what I feel about MTMTE. I fucking miss that comic! I miss new adventures. I miss the characters! And that's also why I'm writing TEG. I want to see them moving and adventuring and alive again. Suffering and growing, as well, but alive nonetheless! JRO COME BACK AGSLDKJSAF I'm ok I'm ok

So thank you! I appreciate your kinds words. AND! I may very well write a sequel. I've been thinking about it. There are little seeds I've planted in TEG specifically so that they may bloom in a sequel. I also said I'd write a sequel for Face The Past, though, and I never did that... but maybe I'll write something even better than TEG! Or not lol. But! Yes, thank you so much for your kind words. Don't give up hope for a sequel. Enjoy what we've got as it's coming out, and keep your heart and eyes open for future stuff from me :)

Thank you again ❤️