#a very long one over 6000 words
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two’s a company, three’s a crowd | alexia putellas x reader x lucy bronze
warnings: heavy smut, cunnilingus, fingering, sex toys, 18+ minors DNI
6000 words that y’all have been begging for and full disclaimer i have written this at 4am on a red bull high so sorry if it isn’t completely coherent xoxo
“Remember what I promised you?”
I was kneeling on the floor beside our bed, a blindfold over my face.
“I’d get a reward if I was a good girl, ma’am.”
I kept my head bowed, facing what I assumed was our floor boards, but I couldn’t tell you for sure because I couldn’t see.
“Do you think you were a good girl?”
I gulped soundly, it could be a trick question, an attempt to catch me out, or prove me wrong. Or it could be a legitimate question, it was a 50/50 chance.
“I tried my hardest ma’am, I think I was good.”
My words held some uncertainty, but not enough for it to be detected, a perfect balance of confidence and self consciousness.
“I think so too, enough that I think you deserve your reward.”
I perked up a little bit at the words, my knees were starting to get sore from the floorboards so anything to get me up off them would be better than this.
“If you think so, ma’am.”
I felt a hand tugging at my scalp, a change from the complete nothingness I’d felt for a while now, it had me jolting in my position, slightly shocked by the contact.
My head was tugged backwards, no longer facing what I assumed was the floor. Tilting it back as far as I could go so I was now assumedly looking at the roof.
“I think so, I think you’ll need to see to properly have this reward though.”
My curiosity was growing by the minute, I was silently becoming more desperate by the second to discover what exactly she was referencing.
I blinked furiously as the silk blindfold was tugged down, so it was pooling around my neck. It took my eyes a few seconds to adjust to the sudden light, but once they did I could make out Alexia, who was standing directly above me, her eyes and eyebrows quirked just a little bit, in that cheeky way she did when she was up to something.
“Give our guest a proper welcome.”
My eyes snapped away from Alexia’s, searching around the room before spotting the intruder that Alexia had been referencing, sitting on the armchair in the corner of the room.
“L-Lucy?”
The lights in our room were dimmed but I was fairly certain that it was her, Alexia’s mind never ceased to amaze me. I suddenly felt very self conscious, my hands going to whatever parts of my naked body that they could cover. They weren’t there for long though, Alexia’s hands slapping at them very quickly.
“No being shy, if tonight goes how I planned Lucia will be seeing far more of you.”
My spine shuddered, so this really was what I had been thinking.
“Do you want that? Do you want to be a good girl for Lucia and I?”
I nodded frantically at Alexia, leaving absolutely zero room for doubt in my actions.
Alexia smirked down at me, she knew me so well, knew exactly how to turn me into putty in her hands. We’d talked about this, casually, her asking me over breakfast one morning if the situation arose I’d be comfortable with bringing someone else in. Initially I’d choked on my tea, and then I’d told her I was very open to the idea, that if it was what she wanted I would definitely be down for it, I just hadn’t expected so soon, or with Lucy. If I was being honest I’d assumed if anyone would ever join Alexia it would be Mapi, just because of the close relationship we had and the fact that I knew her and Ingrid weren’t opposed to sharing.
“I’ll be good for you.”
Alexia smiled at me and nodded.
“I know you will baby. Why don’t you show Lucy how good you can be for her? Show her just how perfect you are, Musetrale lo buena que puedes ser para mi?”
I nodded at Ale, I found it funny that of all the people she would bring she chose Lucy. The girl was lovely, an absolute golden retriever of a human being who was always putting smiles on our faces at training. The underlying feeling that I had though was that Ale had a reason, Lucy was obsessed with proving that she respected Ale and I was fairly sure she’d bend over backwards if Alexia asked. She in her own right though was a dominant person, she wasn’t a person to give up control and I couldn’t shake the feeling that she would give it up easily, even to Alexia.
“Lucia, get on the edge of the bed and take your trousers off, you are far too dressed for this occasion.”
Lucy nodded obediently, pulling her trousers off as she stumbled towards the edge of the bed. Fumbling her trousers off and slinging them onto the seat she had previously occupied, leaving her in a plain pair of black boxer shorts. She seated herself on the edge of the bed as Alexia had requested, waiting restlessly on the edge, clearly waiting for something to happen.
“Come on then, don’t leave our guest waiting.”
I nodded at Alexia, extending my hands out in front of me and crawling over towards Lucy, revelling in the way her eyes crawled up and down my body as I moved towards her. There was something so sensual about someone looking you up and down, something so perfect about having your body be appreciated and wanted, Lucy was looking at me like I was a fucking dessert for her to eat and I loved absolutely every single second of it. The way she watched my tits hanging down from my body frame as the moved back and forth as I crawled towards her, and the sight of her eyes travelling down to my ass was purely magical.
When I did make my way to Lucy I kneeled directly in front of her, letting her part her legs on either side of me, leaving my face directly in front of her sex.
“Can I eat her out please, ma’am?”
I could hear Alexia walking around behind us, but I knew better than to avert my attention from Lucy, keeping my hooded eyes focused on hers.
“Ask Lucia baby, she’s your treat for tonight.”
Alexia was the only person who got away with calling Lucy that, the only person Lucy respected enough to let it slide, she used it to her advantage as much as possible. I knew she was using it in this forum to get one message across, that even if she was hanging over the reigns to Lucy, she had a form of control, a form of power that Lucy didn’t and she was conveying that with her words.
“Can I eat you out please, Luce?”
Lucy smirked at my question, I could feel the nerves thrumming through her body. She was so confident but you could tell that she just wasn’t feeling that in this environment, her foot tapping ever so slightly against the floorboards.
“I would love nothing more, if La Reina is okay with it.”
Lucy’s eyes rose anxiously to Alexia, she was very clearly trying to figure out how this situation worked, I assumed Alexia would have given her a small debrief before this but I didn’t know for sure, as far as I knew Alexia could have texted Lucy half an hour ago and told her to come over. Lucy was cautious of Alexia, the use of her full first name putting her on her toes, just like I knew Alexia had intended to do.
The last few hours had been a complete blur to me, we’d played this afternoon, an earlier game at 1pm. After that I’d kind of dropped into my headspace, Alexia had sensed it. Once we’d gotten home she’d fed me and then with my consent she’d blindfolded me and kneeled me down on the floor for a while, letting me think properly for the first time in a few weeks. She knew my body better than I did, could sense when I needed her the most, today was one of those days and nothing felt better than her understanding that need.
“Go ahead cariño, show Lucia how good you can be.”
Her words were enough permission for me, I scooted myself further across the floorboards, so my face was practically pressed against Lucy’s boxers. I reached my hands up, so they were secured on the waist band, she lifted her ass up from the bed, giving me room to pull them down and off of her. The first thing I was faced with when I looked back up was Lucy’s fucking beautiful cunt, staring right at me. As Lucy’s thighs fell over my shoulders I was put millimetres away from Lucy’s glistening pussy. Lucy ever so respectfully inched her way down to my face, and as soon as I snapped myself out of my almost sex induced haze I was diving in.
The hunger that overcame me was immense. I kissed my way up and down Lucy’s slit, as much as I wanted to dive in I also wanted to not be greedy or rushed about it. I slowly slid my tongue up and down, parting her folds in the process and exploring her with so much care. I toyed around with Lucy’s entrance and sensitive nub, taking my time in carefully swirling my tongue around the ever so sensitive areas and relishing in the moans that were falling freely from her lips. Lucy slowly started to become more comfortable in the situation and started very gently to hump my face. When I decided she was being too gentle my hands came up to her thighs, digging into the skin and forcing her down further on my face, allowing me to apply more pressure to her.
I ate her out with passion, the way that Ale had taught me. I lapped at Lucy’s waiting cunt, she was practically throbbing against me and I revelled in the feeling of having her juices drip down my face and down onto my bare neck and the blindfold that was now a forgotten article, hanging loosely around my neck. She was fucking delicious and I took advantage off it, slurping up her juices and swallowing it all down. I continued my exploring, experimenting with different pressures and speeds, slowly discovering what forced the sinfully spectacular groans to fall from Lucy’s mouth. I very quickly discovered that her clit was extremely sensitive, any slight touch to it resulting in a set of specific expletives leaving her lips. I honed in on that, working tirelessly at swirling my tongue around her clit and when her thighs started to clench I started to nibble on it slightly, the small bursts of pressure doing wonders for her.
“Fuck, mm, fuck, such a good girl y/n, gonna make me cum.”
I smirked into Lucy’s clit when the grunts left her mouth, they were hardly words though, muffled by Lucy’s own moans and Alexia’s voice in the background, which I couldn’t fully understand in my sex driven haze.
I worked hard at Lucy’s clit, sucking on it and then dipping down to eat her out every once in a while. I pushed my tongue into her pussy and feeling her sex clench against my tongue as she got closer. I began to alternate, sucking hard on Lucy’s clit and then going down further, licking softly at her pussy. It was the perfect combination of soft and hard and it had Lucy’s thighs shaking on top of my shoulders.
“Fuck, so good y/n/n, so fucking good, I’m going to cum, going to cum.”
As soon as the words left her mouth I sucked down hard on her clit, digging my lips and teeth in.
“Cum, Lucia, cum all over our sluts face.”
Ale’s voice was strong, directly spoken in my ear and it was probably enough to make me cum there on the spot, but I didn’t, too focused on Lucy’s body to care about my own. I moaned against her pussy as I felt her clench and come undone. Her thighs shook like a tree in the wind as the orgasm wracked her body. I continued my licks, softening them and flattening my tongue against her slit, licking up every single drip that was released from her pussy as she came down from her high. It was euphoric, feeling Lucy’s salty and sweet liquid gold on my tongue was a different form of special that I couldn’t even explain.
Eventually, once Lucy’s legs had stopped shaking she lifted herself off of me, revealing my face to her, which was covered in her juices. It was then that I spotted Alexia standing over me, her lips kiss swollen and Lucy’s neck adorned with a few developing love bites that I could only assume were accredited to Alexia. She smirked down at me before leaning down to kiss me, licking at the taste of Lucy and getting as it off of my face as she could.
“Such a good girl for Lucia, I think it’s about time we give you some attention, hm?”
I nodded frantically at Alexia, getting Lucy off had a drug like effect on me and I was now in a drugged up sex haze.
“Please.”
Alexia smirked at my pleading and nodded at me.
“I think Lucia is a little bit overdressed for the occasion, how about you help her out?”
I nodded at Alexia, her word was gospel to me and if she wanted me to do something I would do it. She reached her hands out to me and I took them, my legs had gone practically numb from kneeling for so long so her support was well appreciated. My legs wobbled for a few seconds whilst I regained the sensation in my legs. Once the sensation was regained I turned to Lucy, who still seemed to be coming back from her mind shattering orgasm.
I closed the distance between us, seating myself down on the edge of the bed beside her and putting my hands to work immediately. I’d bared her bottom half so I busied myself with unbuttoning her blouse, taking my time with each individual button. The top buttons were already done, courtesy to Alexia who had left a litter of love bites along Lucy’s collar line that were going to be a pain to hide tomorrow for training. It made me smirk slightly.
Lucy, very clearly having regained her energy, got bored waiting for me to unbutton her blouse, and busied herself with leaving some matching marks along my own collarbone. I let her go, I wasn’t training tomorrow anyways, I’d been told to take the day off because of a minor head collision that I’d had during the game, it was pure precaution but I was grateful to have a lie in regardless, fairly happy to miss out on the morning recovery and gym session when I could be cuddled up in bed with Ale and I’s cat and dog.
Once I finally finished with her blouse I threw it across the floor of Ale and I’s room, leaving it with the pile of clothes that had collected on our armchair in the corner. I then moved onto Lucy’s bra, reaching behind her back and unclasping it, smirking as she bit down particularly hard as I pulled the bra from her body.
I let her leave her marks for a little while, sitting back on the bed, Alexia joining us both and joining Lucy at my neck, the both of them occupying themselves with marking me. I couldn’t help but feel the competitive energy between them, they were both dominant individuals in their own right. Alexia was possessive over me as my girlfriend, but so was Lucy on a friend level. Her, Keira and I made up the ‘Spanglish’ trio at Barca and we were practically inseparable, so Lucy was highly protective of me in that way, she had been since we were kids.
“Please.”
Lucy smirked into her spot onto my collarbone, I wasn’t a full on moaning mess yet but I was starting to get worked up but I wanted more.
Lucy picked her head up out of my neck and looked up at me.
“What do you want?”
Lucy looked at Alexia, checking it was all okay and when she got the confirmation there was nothing wrong with her actions she looked back at me.
“More.”
Lucy nodded at me, but she didn’t progress any more.
“Use your words, bebita.” (baby)
I groaned as Alexia’s mouth found it’s way to my pulse point, sucking down deeply on the point and then withdrawing completely.
I whimpered at the lack of contact, my eyes snapping open to look at the two women. The back of Alexia’s palm came down onto the inside of my thigh, without warning, leaving me to yelp out of surprise.
“Lucia asked you to do something, puta (slut), listen to her or we’re going to find ourselves in a very different situation, comprendida?” (Understood?)
I nodded quickly at Alexia, desperate for more attention, desperate for both of their lips to return to my body.
“Si entiendo, lo siento. Please, my pussy.” (Yes, I understand, I’m sorry)
Lucy smirked at me, they were playing coy, toying with me until I broke, it was a game that Ale loved to play and she knew it drove me insane.
“Does your perfect little pussy want some attention? Does it feel all forgotten right now? Are we not giving you enough attention?”
Alexia’s lips returned to my neck, dipping a little bit lower and navigating their way down across my chest. I kept my eyes on Lucy, silently pleading with her to please, give my fucking throbbing pussy some attention, before it fucking imploded below me.
“Please, fuck, Please.”
Lucy licked her lips, it was clear she was gaining enjoyment from riling me up and I couldn’t find it in me to despise her for it, I was just so fucking desperate.
“Mm, Ale do you think she deserves it?”
Ale’s head rose from my chest once again, her lips were swollen and tinged slightly redder than normal.
“I’m not sure, we did promise her some attention if she treated you well, but she can wait longer if we want her to. It’s up to you, she did play so well considering though, and we have been riling her up.”
It was clear Ale was enjoying being the backseat driver for this scene, she always had to have control, always had to be in charge. She loved it but a part of me also knew that she probably didn’t mind taking the passenger seat for a lapse in time, letting Lucy take the reins whilst she took in the moment.
“Mm, what do you want bebita?”
I gulped, moaning at the feeling of Alexia wrapping her tongue around my nipple, the sensation sending shocks throughout my whole body.
“Anything, hands, mouth, please, just anything.”
I was laying the desperation on thick, letting my barriers down to express the pure yearning I had for something, anything to just fucking touch me.
“Alright, I think we can do something about that, hm?”
I nodded at Lucy and moaned as her hand snaked its way down my chest, travelling down the flat surface of my stomach and then the hips. Before I knew it her hand was dipping down below my knees and I was a mess, as soon as a single digit made its way through my folds.
“You're so wet, bebita, we’ve hardly touched you and you're dripping all over the sheets.”
Lucy’s words were just encouragement for me, just another factor in my pleasure. Ale was smirking from her spot against my breasts, fiddling with one of my nipples between her fingers and biting on the other one whilst Lucy explored my cunt with just her finger.
It didn’t take long for the digit to be pushed into my hole. It slid in with ease, my hole adjusting to Lucy’s lone finger fairly quickly.
She worked her way in, knuckle by knuckle, even though she didn’t have to. Moving her finger at a snail like pace, her thumb rubbing lazily against my clit. I needed more, more friction, more movement, more anything. I pushed my hips down against her hand, but almost as soon as I did her hands were off of me.
“If you can’t be patient then your pretty little pussy isn’t getting any attention, comprendida bebita?”
I nodded quickly back at Lucy, any contact was good, anything.
I moaned sinfully as her hands returned to my body, not objecting as Alexia pushed my body backwards against the sheets, so that I was lying down and the two older women were towering over me on the bed, the both of them busying themselves with their self assigned jobs.
I spread my legs for Lucy, allowing her proper access to my body as I focus on Ale’s lips and fingers against my skin, adorning my body with little touches and marks, my senses were heightened from her actions, guaranteeing any touch from Lucy to elicit a fairly filthy moan to leave my mouth.
She kept her movements fairly measured and vague, dipping her finger in every once in a while, otherwise toying with my clit very gently or just working her fingers through my wetness.
It was driving me positively insane and I didn’t know how much more of the little touches and gentleness I could handle, my brain's wiring starting to slowly come undone at the hands of my teammates.
“Please, please, more.”
The words were murmured out between moans, I was becoming a complete mess with the little touches and I hated it, I hated it because all I wanted was to be fucked hard and fast, unforgivingly and the softness of their actions was driving me fucking insane. I was fairly sure they knew it, Alexia could practically read my mind, she had to know that I wanted more, that I was craving more, craving the feeling of being fucked out of my fucking mind.
“Is this not enough for you?”
Lucy’s voice was so fucking condescending, it was driving me insane in all of the best ways.
“Just please more, mas por favor, mas por favor, Luce.” (more please, more please)
I watched contemplation make its way across Lucy’s face, she was clearly deep in thought, planning her next move very carefully.
“Okay bebita, I’ll give you more.”
I didn’t have time to think about her answer, the feeling of two more of her fingers stretching out my hole being enough to have me keeling over in pleasure. It was the perfect, stretch, faster. Everything that I wanted and the feeling of Lucy’s fingers curling perfectly against that spot, was so good that I almost saw stars as soon as she brushed over it.
She kept going at a fairly rigorous pace, slowly edging me towards the line of pure pleasure and it was good. The feeling of Alexia’s teeth grazing my upper body mixed with the combination of Lucy’s actions was euphoric to me, completely addictive.
“Fuck, Luce so good, so fucking good.”
The feeling of her fingertips, slightly coarse from the callouses developed over the years, brushing up against my g-spot was inexplicable, making every single inch of my body warm with pleasure.
“Mm, you going to cum bebita, show us how good you can be?”
Her words were enough to send another set of shocks out across my body, my thighs starting to tremble on either side of Lucy.
“Please, can I cum, please, fuck.”
Alexia lifted her head from my chest, looking at me inquisitively.
“No.”
“She’s been a good girl, Reina.”
Alexia shook her head again, my body having an internal battle as the two women looked between each other and then back down at me.
“Please, Ale, fuck, please.”
Lucy’s hand was still pumping furiously inside of me as the two women stared at each other, both of them wearing similar expressions of stubbornness.
“She can wait, quieres correrte puta?” (do you want to come, slut?)
I nodded furiously at Ale, I was teetering right on the edge of orgasm and I didn’t think I could last much longer, my self control slowly slipping away as Lucy worked at my pussy tirelessly.
“Joder, por favor Ale, por favor.” (Fuck, please Ale, please)
Ale shook her head at me, but in contrast Lucy nodded at me, it was messing with my head, the two of them obviously disagreeing on the topic.
“Lucia, aquí no mandas tu, soy yo. Si quieres usar el juguete con ella más tarde te portarás bien.” (Lucia, you’re not in charge here, I am. If you want to use the toy on her later than you will behave)
Alexia’s Spanish was aggressive and spoken fast enough that I couldn’t understand it properly. Lucy’s Spanish was better than mine, Ale had tried her hardest to teach me in the few months that I’d been here and the years that we’d been dating but I was horrible at learning a new language, Lucy was less shocking then I was and I knew by her facial expression that she understood most, if not all of what Ale was saying to her.
All of a sudden Lucy’s hand was withdrawing itself from my heat, the two women arguing furiously in Spanish above me.
“Me prometiste.” (You promised.)
Ale glared at Lucy before starting a flurry of Spanish that I didn’t even try to translate.
“Estás discutiendo conmigo, Lucia? Quieres siquiera estar aquí? Tal vez deberías irte a casa.”
(Are you arguing with me Lucia? Do you want to be here? Continue and you can go home)
I was no longer being touched, no longer had the attention on me, the two women on top of me completely wrapped up in their fight for dominance to care about my pleasure that I’d been so close to reaching. It annoyed me, listening to the two of them go back and forth in a language that I couldn’t understand. I was fairly certain that Lucy didn’t even fully understand everything Alexia was saying to her, but based on her tone of voice and some of the words she must have been piecing it together.
I watched, slightly annoyed, as the two bit back at each other. It was malicious and boring for me, who had no idea what they were saying and I was honestly to horny to care.
I couldn’t help but let my hand slide down the inside of my thigh, now forgotten by Lucy. If they weren’t going to give me attention I’d give it to myself.
My hand only made it as far as my clit though before it was very quickly snatched by Alexia, her quick reflexes coming into play, one of her hands grabbing my hand that was between my thighs and the other hand coming down on my thigh in a resounding slap.
“Maldita zorra, realmente no puedes esperar, verdad? Entonces jodidamente impaciente. Te arrepentirás.” (Fucking slut, you really can’t wait can you? So fucking impatient, You’re going to regret that.)
I understood those words and they made my core shiver.
Alexia made quick work of finding my other hand, pulling the forgotten blindfold over my head. It was still slightly damp with Lucy’s juices, Alexia brought my two wrists together above my head and used the once blindfold to secure them together, so they were bound above my head, resting on the pillows behind me.
“I think it’s about time we give you what you want, hm, you're so impatient today, so needy to be filled. What do you want, tell me slut.”
Alexia’s hand was grasping my chin now and it was all becoming too much for me, my brain overstimulating itself from the sudden attention.
“Por favor, fóllame.” (Please, just fuck me.)
Alexia smirked at my pleading, she loved it when I spoke Spanish to her, I think she was a little bit proud of me when I did.
“Is that what you want, for me or Lucia to use the strap on you, stuff you full?”
I nodded furiously at Alexia, as much as I could with the grip she had on my chin.
“Si, please Luce, fill me up?”
Lucy’s jaw almost dropped to the floor at my words, I could tell she was trying her hardest to keep herself composed but my words had gotten to her.
“Second draw, of the dresser, Lucia.”
Lucy was up off the bed almost immediately, Ale busying herself with one of my nipples, rubbing the little nub in between her two fingers, toying with it in a painfully sensitive way whilst pressing gentle kisses along my jawline.
In what I was certain was record time Lucy had returned to the bed, this time with Alexia’s favourite strap fastened across her hips. I wished I could take a mental picture of Lucy kneeling in between my legs, Alexia and I’s favourite dildo hanging securely between her legs.
“I think you’ve prepped her enough with your fingers, she’s soaked so you shouldn’t need lube.”
Alexia nodded at Lucy reassuringly, any past argument and tension between the two now dismissed by the overall theme of giving me pleasure.
The feeling of the tip of the dildo pushing through my folds was enough to have my back arching against the bed. Alexia’s lips on my jaw long forgotten as Lucy oh so gently pushed into my entrance. It was pure ecstasy, illicit moans leaving my mouth as she pushed the length of the cock into my cunt, my pussy devouring every inch until Lucy’s hips were pressed against my own. She sat like that for a few seconds, letting me adjust to the intrusion before starting to rock back and forth. My hips met hers on every single thrust, my body pushing itself down against her to try and get as much off the dildo crammed into me as I could.
Lucy was leaning over me, Ale’s lips leaving my body to meet Lucy’s, the two of them meeting in a teeth clashing kiss, the both of them fighting for dominance in the kiss whilst Lucy continued to push into me at a unrelenting pace, it was so fucking good, the sex equivalent to drugs. I was practically incoherent, moans and half words leaving my mouth as Lucy pounded into me.
“Ale, please can I cum, por favor.”
Alexia removed her lips from Lucy’s for long enough to speak to me.
“Cum, cum cãrino, once you start though you aren’t stopping until Lucia and I are done, comprendida?”
I didn’t even need to listen to the second half of Ale’s words, my body already spasming as my orgasm washed over me. My vision went black and my eyes rolled into the back of my head as everything blurred and everything mellowed out for a few seconds as I bathed in the post orgasmic bliss. Then, suddenly, it all came crashing back down on me, the feeling of Lucy still pounding into my now very sensitive pussy was too much, too much feeling, too much pleasure, too much everything and I could feel the tears springing to my eyes.
“No más, No más.”
Ale looked down at me, smirking slightly as the tears leaked from my eyes. I was so over stimulated, I could feel absolutely everything, my senses heightened beyond anything I was used to all a sudden.
“One more bebita, give us one more, I know you can do it cãrino, let go for us.”
The mixture of Ale’s words and Lucy pressing a soft kiss to my breast was enough to send me over the edge for a second time, my body trembling uncontrollably with the aftershocks as I blacked out completely from the mixture of pleasure and dull pain. I went limp against our sheets, my body completely done and tired from the actions of the night.
I felt Lucy slowly ease out of me and Ale getting up from the mattress beside me, I mewled slightly at the abrupt complete loss of contact but relaxed when I felt Lucy’s toned body slide in beside me, pulling the covers of the bed over the two of us and bringing my head up to her chest. I kept my eyes closed, still shaking from my orgasm. Lucy unwrapped my hands from their bonds ever so gently, rubbing at the place that the silk had been before guiding them to her stomach, resting my hands against her stomach, letting me gently draw circles against the surface of her skin. Lucy moved onto gently running her hands through my hair, combing out any knots that had come from our activities, her hands ever so carefully working their way through my tresses, using the perfect amount of pressure to tug at the lengths but not tugging hard enough to hurt. She worked gently at my scalp, her hands massaging my skin.
It wasn’t long before Ale returned to us, sliding in on the other side of me, one of her hands making it’s way to my bicep, gently rubbing the skin with her hands, letting her hand press in just enough for me to find comfort in the action.
I opened my eyes slightly when she pressed down on my bicep hard enough to get my attention. She waved a water bottle in my direction and I understood the memo. I sat myself up a little bit against Lucy, my whole body practically leaning against her. Ale handed me a bottle and then moved on to pressing on into Lucy’s palm, ordering me to drink and me not having the energy to say no to her. The water felt good going in, cooling my now slightly sore throat.
“How’s the head, mi amor?”
There was worry laced between Alexia’s eyebrow as she looked my body up and down, looking for any signs that I was anything but okay. She was always worrying about me, especially when I got injured.
“Fine, a little bit sore but okay.”
Alexia nodded at me, leaning over to press a gentle kiss to my forehead before turning her head in Lucy’s direction.
“Lucia Roberta, drink some water.”
Lucy perked up at Alexia’s words, opening her drink bottle dutifully and taking a few sips before placing it on the bedside table next to her. Alexia rolled her eyes at Lucy but didn’t push it, wrapping an arm around my torso and relaxing against my body.
“How was it amar, everything you wanted?”
I nodded against Alexia, from my spot sandwiched in between her chest and Lucy’s.
“It was fucking perfect.”
Alexia smirked at my words.
“How about you Lucia?”
I felt Lucy inhale from her spot above me, the woman leaning down to press a kiss to both Alexia and I’s cheeks before replying.
“Words couldn’t describe.”
I snorted into Lucy’s chest, finding solace in the warmth of the two bodies I was in between, everything feeling so perfect and right in that moment.
“Get some sleep you two, you both deserve it after how perfect you were on the field.”
I smiled into Alexia’s chest, unable to suppress the eyeroll at her way of bringing her captaining into the fucking bedroom.
“Love you Ale, Love you Luce.”
I relaxed into the two bodies beside them. We would talk about how it had come about in the morning, talk about doing this again, I was sure of it. For now though, I was happy lying between the two women, willing to let my body loosen up and relax in the safety of the two women's arms.
#woso#woso community#barca femeni#lucy bronze#alexia putellas smuttt#alexia putellas is mom#alexia putellas imagine#alexia putellas#alexia putellas x reader#lucy bronze x reader#lucy bronze imagine#lucy bronze x reader x alexia putellas#smut#marry me rn
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Hi, are you taking requests? I really like your one-shots, they really help me in learning how to write emotions. So, what about the Demon Brothers getting injured for some reason (either because Lucifer punished them, or they were attacked by some creature, got into a fight, etc.), and MC notices it, even with the Demons best attempt to hide it, and decide to take care of the injuries. At first the boys are embarrassed and reluctant to accept their help, but quickly gave up and let MC take care of them. 👉👈
Anon...this is a beautiful request. I love love love hurt/comfort, especially whump tropes like these. I will absolutely do this. 100% I will do this, no questions asked.
Although I owe you an apology because...this is another instance of mine where I take things...way too far...I should’ve known when I was almost 6000 words deep and had only briefly gone over three brothers, that I was in over my head once again...so...this is a big one...really big...well maybe not that big by fic standards, I don’t really know what the average fic holds...Anyways, enjoy!
Rest Easy. I’m Here.
Word Count: 16,038
Warnings: Blood, Broken Bones, Bruises, Vomiting, Cuts, Concussions, Injury, Medication Use. A lot of general hurt for this hurt/comfort.
(Please pay no mind to the fact that all these little picture banners are cropped slightly different sizes, consistency was never my strong suit.)
As Always, Read Safely! Please Enjoy!
“Someone get Asmo!”
“Satan, look out!”
“My lord, Mammon can't dodge forever. He’s running out of stamina.”
“Beel, don’t be stupid! Don’t be a hero, ya idiot! Beel!”
“Belphie, take him away!”
“Levi!”
“Diavolo…we’re becoming overwhelmed, you need to leave.”
“Absolutely not.”
“You are royalty, and as such, I have to – Diavolo, move!”
“Lucifer!”
“They’ve been gone for a while…” You put down your D.D.D., placing it in your lap, a sigh coming from your chest as you stared at the front door to the House of Lamentation. How long had you waited here now, a few hours? Nearly felt like days. Every taunting tick of the clock twisted a new knot in your stomach. You knew they could take care of themselves, obviously they could. Their Deadly Sin titles weren’t just for show. There was probably very little they couldn’t handle, especially when they were all together…but…then why were they still not home? The moon might be ever-constant, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t extremely late. It was beginning to stretch into the early hours of the day now.
They all had been suddenly called to meet Diavolo, Lucifer’s phone ringing at dinner, the prince summoning them immediately. Plates half-empty, they left. Now their dinner had gone cold…and so had the House. You couldn’t help but worry. It wasn’t too often all of them were needed at once, leaving you alone in this large and quiet mansion. None of them had answered your messages either, something else that was rather uncommon. Levi surely had his phone on him at all times, and Lucifer was pretty swift in responding to you as well, and despite Mammon’s fervent denial, he always leapt at his phone whenever you messaged him. But no, nothing. Just silence…Even the nocturnal critters outside appeared to abandon you, unable to hear their nightly cries.
As your head tilted back, resting against the wall of the entrance-hall, you nearly drifted off. You had been sitting there for quite a while after all. If you did fall asleep, it made time warp, only feeling like a second, or perhaps it had just been rather perfect timing. The doors swung open, cold night air rushing gusting inside, the wind outside whistling as seven demons stumbled into the house. You scrambled to your feet, almost dropping your D.D.D. you’d left in your lap. Luckily you managed to catch it, shoving it in your pocket. “Welcome back!” Suddenly, the tenseness in your shoulders seemed to lift, the lungs in your chest not as tight. You could breathe easy now.
They all looked tired, but quickly grinned as they noticed you...well a few of them did at least…actually only two of them. The others stuck to the shadows. “We’re back!” Asmo raised his arms in celebration, sounding much like normal to you, and yet…something felt…off. Maybe he was just exhausted, they had been out for hours at this point.
“Sorry...we…took so long,” Satan spoke up, speaking at a strangely slow pace. Levi, not even looking at you, scrambled up the stairs to his room before he could speak. The demon of Wrath held his arms behind his back, a stance he hardly ever took, using his body to block off your view of Envy. “We got…caught up…in Student Council work.”
“You did not need to wait for us,” Lucifer tilted his head…but even he seemed to not look at you quite as directly as he usually did. There was an odd air about him, a look in his eyes like he just remembered something he had forgotten. “It is late for us all. Let’s…get…” His voice got quieter and softer with each word. It seemed as if he was losing the energy to even form words, his head drooping ever so slightly. “...Some rest. You as well,” he addressed you, using an arm to usher his other brothers in the direction towards their rooms, some of them lowering their head from you strangely, some of them supporting the others up the stairs.
None of them said anything else, and before you could even appreciate them all being home…they were gone.
You had hoped the next morning, at breakfast, that things would return to normal. After sleeping it off, certainly the weirdness you had felt in the air would dissipate. Unfortunately…that did not seem to be the case. Most of the brothers didn’t even show up to breakfast. The only ones to arrive were Beel, Asmo, and Satan. Everyone else was gone. Asmo, with a smile over his face, tried to assure you all was well. “They’re probably still sleeping! Last night was a long night after all!”
You raised an eyebrow, a little offended that they were clearly keeping something from you, but more worried than anything. “None of you are wearing your uniforms today,” you noticed, jutting the end of your utensil towards Satan and his common clothes, finding it difficult to eat your morning meal.
Beel, after shoving a plateful in his mouth, somehow more voracious than usual, licked his lips and nodded his head at you comfortingly. “Diavolo gave us the day off.”
“You can still head to classes though,” Satan chimed in. You noticed he was only using one arm to eat breakfast today. It was an odd detail to notice, but one you spotted nonetheless as he struggled to cut this morning’s pancakes. He always used a knife and a fork like a proper person, always getting irritated when someone else like Mammon would wedge the fork back-and-forth, tearing off the pieces and shoving it into his mouth. Now Satan was doing the very thing he ridiculed others for.
Suddenly settling your utensils down, you straightened your back. “I think I’ll stay home too.”
Each of the brothers looked at each other, flickering secret messages between them with only their eyes. Satan shifted uncomfortably in his seat, subtly wincing as he shrugged his shoulders. The next thing he said was the final nail in the coffin. Hell had frozen over today apparently. Either that or something was terribly, dreadfully wrong. “I don’t think Lucifer would like that very much.”
“You never care what Lucifer thinks!” You suddenly shouted, a sick feeling in your stomach, your insides doing flips with anxiety. “What’s wrong with you all?”
Apparently you surprised them all with your outburst more than you intended to. Beel suddenly started coughing, bending over in his seat. You stood up quickly, afraid he had started to choke, but Asmo beat you, making it to his little brother’s side in a rush. “Breathe, Beel, breathe…Eat slower, you can’t handle going too fast right now.” You could hear the faint wheeze in Beel’s voice, the pain in his lungs obvious, his arms hugging his own body. And yet, they still wouldn’t tell you. Not even when it was so abhorrently obvious that something had happened last night. The brother’s voices sounded muffled to your ears now, the stress fogging your senses. You faintly recalled Satan going up to take Beel to his room, Asmo the only one left. The demon of Lust cleared up the plates, doing so hoping you wouldn’t notice the way he gripped the tops of the chairs, guiding himself back to the kitchen with a hand pressed against the wall, limping.
You had intended to remain steadfast in your stubbornness. If they weren’t going to go to classes, why should you? After all, you had stayed up almost all night, restless with worry. However, any dreams you had of staying home were dashed as the haunting doorbell to the House rang. None of the brothers were likely to answer it, and if it was a package or something of that nature, someone should probably grab it for them. Although, you knew well in the back of your mind that hardly any mail was delivered this early in the day. The idea of a package was better than more bad-news, you figured. You shuffled your way out of the dining room, rather downtrodden, opening the front door without preparing yourself to look a little less depressed.
“MC?” You weren’t expecting to hear your name spoken by a voice so familiar. Taking a few blinks, you brought yourself out of the little slump you were in. “Is everything alright?” Simeon frowned, taking another step closer to the entrance.
You had to quickly grin, although you knew it came off rather weak. “Just didn’t sleep a lot last night. What are you doing here?”
A little figure jumped out from behind Simeon, almost like it was meant to surprise you. “We’re here to go to RAD together!” Luke beamed. He seemed so pleased, absolutely beside himself with joy at even just this simple thing. How did he never realize why everyone called him cute?
The third figure outside nodded, waving at you in greeting. “Imagine our surprise when, out of the blue, all of us receive a text from Lucifer of all people, telling us to bring you to RAD.” Solomon looked quite pleased with himself. Although, that only made you feel warier. So none of them knew what was going on either?
Simeon was the only one who seemed to share your confusion. “It’s not everyday that he asks for favors.”
“It didn’t seem like a favor to me,” Luke scowled, unfortunately coming off more like a pout than anything. He folded his arms. “It was practically an order.”
“Regardless of the reason,” Solomon waved his hand through the air, moving away from the brothers as the topic at hand. “Are you all ready to go?” He looked at you with a glint in his eye. That feeling in your gut still remained, but was slightly lessened. At the very least, the members of Purgatory Hall were as they usually were. Any form of normality you could get was gladly accepted. You nodded, taking a step forward and shutting the door of the House behind you.
Simeon outstretched a hand towards you, perhaps sensing that you were feeling a bit down. You took it, feeling the warmth in his palms spread over you like a comforting blanket. Was it angelic magic or just simply his presence that calmed you so? “Don’t worry,” the angel attempted to assuage your anxiety. “If it were something threatening, Diavolo would certainly tell you about it, wouldn’t he?”
Based on his track record…not really. Not as quickly as you would like him to anyway. Mysteries and riddles and royal duty be damned. You’d have to talk to the prince.
You were one second away from knocking on the door to the student council office before it opened for you. Barbatos welcomed you with a calming grin, lowering his head in a little respectful bow as you stepped into the room. “We’ve been expecting you.” As the door shut behind you, you felt your shoulder gently touched by the butler’s gloved hand. He wasn’t often one to express emotion, or perhaps you’d gotten to know him well enough to tell that the slight lift to his brows was one of sympathy. “I’ve already prepared some tea as well as Devarian Cream Eclairs.” In a blink, he was over by a little table, pulling a seat out for you as Diavolo remained seated on the other side, waving you over with a grin, although even from here you could notice that his usual dazzling and thrilled smile was subdued.
“You knew I was coming?” You took a few tentative steps before settling yourself in the chair, your hands rubbing themselves anxiously in your lap.
Diavolo was the one who spoke up this time, nodding a bit as the corners of his mouth tugged downwards. “If I know my student council, you probably have many questions regarding last night, don’t you?”
Your mouth felt a bit dry, and so you picked up the little teacup, smelling the sweet aroma before taking a little sip. “They didn’t tell me anything…” The teacup made a gentle noise as it settled back down on the table. You turned your head up at the prince, a pleading look in your eyes. You may not have had a pact with him and he might’ve been royalty while you were just a human, but you were hoping that the person sitting in front of you was not just the Demon Lord but Diavolo, your, dare you say, friend. Surely, he would answer your honest question. “Will you tell me what happened?”
There was a flicker of guilt in his eyes as he spoke, and while Barbatos was naturally quiet, there was an eerie sort of silence about him, one that was abnormally noticeable. Diavolo paused but then explained everything to you. Apparently, every few millennia, an ancient Devildom Beast rises from its deep hibernation to feast. Left unchecked, it can go on a rampage, causing needless destruction and chaos. It typically follows a very regular schedule, the brothers and Diavolo able to create a plan and barrier to keep the monster away from civilization. However, without any warning, it suddenly arose, centuries early. No one could figure out why, and deep in your soul you wondered if this was somehow your fault. Strange things always happened when you were around, after all. Although, you knew it was rather silly to blame yourself for something like this. “Without any preparation, we were all forced to subdue it ourselves…and refusing it to feed naturally made it quite aggressive. There were…casualties…Forgive me.”
Barbatos finally took a breath, shuffling a little closer to the prince. “Young Master–”
“I will take the blame for this,” Diavolo, despite the guilt, raised his head proudly. “It was under my orders that this happened. And it was because I was there that–” He cut himself off as the words caught in his throat, something the prince was not known for. He couldn’t seem to finish his statement, but you could connect the dots. Here he was, hardly a hair out of place like usual. He had been protected. You knew the others, especially Lucifer, would do whatever it took to keep Diavolo safe. Before you really knew you were doing it, your body urged itself out of your seat, wrapping your arms against Diavolo’s body. You heard Barbatos take a sharp intake of air before letting it out in a gentle sigh. Normally, such actions like these towards the prince would’ve been unheard of, perhaps punishable even. You didn’t often like to think you were being given special treatment, but in this case, you were glad you were able to do something like give Diavolo this little embrace. You felt him chuckle, the power of his lungs rattling your ribs. He took your arms and lowered them, the smile back on his face, although perhaps a bit embarrassed that someone such as he needed an action as common as a hug to make him feel better. “I was hoping you would come see me, seeing as I have a favor to ask of you.”
“A favor?”
With a little nod, he glanced at Barbatos who helped you back to your seat, the butler’s hand settled on the back of your neck for just a moment, his subtle version of a thank-you. The prince cleared his throat, looking at you seriously. “I’d like you to help care for the brothers till they are back in good health. Knowing them, they’ll hide away from any of us till they are back to normal. Lucifer might be Pride, but it seems as if the stubbornness runs through all their veins. But you…they have a soft spot for you, even Lucifer.” There was a flicker of jealousy behind Diavolo’s eyes. Yes, they were close, but Lucifer’s respect would always hinge that tiny social barrier between them. “Besides, they might heal quicker with you by their side, and that’s beneficial for everyone involved. I know…it might be a lot to ask, but would you be willing to do this for me?”
You couldn’t help but chuckle a little. “After everything we’ve all already gone through, do you even need to ask?” How many times had you been the one to clean up a mess caused by some magical or mischievous misfortune? And almost always, you were the only one unaffected by it all, always waiting for the others to return to normal. “I had planned on doing that anyway.”
He closed his eyes as he sighed. “I had a feeling, but I never like to assume. I’m glad, though... If there’s anything Barbatos and I can do to assist you, don’t hesitate to ask.”
“There is one thing,” you brought up, making the prince raise an eyebrow. “Can Barbatos make me a portal home?” Learning all this information suddenly made you feel antsy, practically itching to be back in the House’s familiar halls. “I feel like I’ve already been away from them long enough. I want to be there for them now.”
Out of everyone, you figured Asmo would be the least likely to turn you away. He loved being pampered, and he seemed perhaps the most normal of the bunch. Besides, he might be willing to shed some more light on what happened to the others…and the severity of their injuries. You tried not to let the silence of the house overwhelm you as you prepared a little tray to take to Asmo. You filled it with lots of helpful but adorable things. A little yogurt cup with glistening and juicy fruits, an herbal tea that Barbatos recommended that was a rosy pink, a little vial of Devildom Medicine that you put a few stickers on in an attempt to make it ‘aesthetic’, and a few other things you just grabbed since you had no idea what Asmo was going through. Tray settled against your hip, you knocked on Asmo’s door.
There was silence for a moment, but then a whine on the other end. “Whaaat? I’m trying to recover as much as you all are too, you know! Don’t make me get up.”
It was clear to you that he assumed you were one of his brothers. You suddenly showing up might not be as thrilling of a surprise as you had thought it would be. “I can come in if you’d like.”
Clattering could be suddenly heard from inside, a whimper of pain was made before the door swung open vivaciously, Asmo, wearing a silky nightgown, was leaning against the doorframe with one leg tucked behind the other. “MC, hun! What’re you doing home?” His eyes flashed down to the tray you were carrying. His smile faded, his bottom lip jutting out in a small pout. “Ah…Who told you?”
“Diavolo.” You snuck past him in his room, settling the tray on the end of his bed. “He didn’t tell me absolutely everything though.” You suddenly turned around a hand on your hip. “What’s wrong with you? Out with it?” I sound too much like Lucifer, you thought to yourself.
Much like you were expecting, Asmo gave in almost instantly, his eyes turning glossy with tears. He shut the door and moved away from the doorframe, one of his feet curled away from the ground. As you looked at his left leg, you noticed that from the knee all the way down, Asmo’s skin was covered in bruises, the tone to his complexion a different blend of purple, yellow, black, and even red. It was swollen. “It hurts…” The little crack in his voice broke your heart. You came over to him, offering your support as he settled an arm around your shoulders. You helped him limp back into bed, fluffing up the pillows behind his neck.
“Why didn’t any of you tell me?” You shook your head a bit, looking down with a mixture of concern and disappointment.
“And have you look at me this way?” A tear slid from the corner of his eye. You unconsciously brushed it away, his face leaning into your touch. “Just look at it…it’s hideous! I never wanted you to ever see me this way…”
“Asmo…injuries happen.” You traced little hearts into his shoulder before you stood, getting to work. Grabbing some throw pillows from various pieces of furniture, you brought them next to his injured leg. “Can you lift it?” With a wince, he grabbed at his left thigh, lifting up his leg enough for you to place the pillows under. With a little flourish, you covered him with a blanket. “I brought you medicine. Barbatos said this kind should help with the pain. I also made you a little snack. You need to be well fed and rested. Do you want me to grab you some ice-packs?”
The ever-usual confident Asmo appeared a bit meek at the treatment. “Yes…please. I tried going back downstairs for them but…”
“No more getting out of bed,” you demanded. “You’ll just make it worse.” With a few steps, you moved over to the nightstand, grabbing the tray and settling it right next to Asmo. One of your hands brushed Asmo’s hair from his face. “I’ll be right back.” Some pink flared in his cheeks at your stern orders, but he didn’t stop you from rushing downstairs to try to find something to ice his leg with. Unfortunately, if the House did have ice-packs, they weren’t in the freezer. So, desperate measures called for frozen vegetables. You found a little hand towel in the kitchen, wrapping the pack up in that before heading back upstairs. You were pleased to find that he was in the middle of eating his snack with a little grin on his face.
“MC…you’re so precious,” he praised you, almost purring at the mere sight of you. “You’ll be my nurse till I’m all better, right?” It was his best attempt at sounding like usual, but even the flirtatiousness of it was muted. He simply sounded exhausted. He settled down the little bowl as his arms outstretched towards you, waiting for you to come over and hug him. You placed yourself against his hip on the bed, letting him wrap his arms around you. His nose settled against the base of your neck, practically absorbing your affection as additional sustenance. Who knows? Maybe it did work that way for demons. Maybe they quite literally sucked the life out of you. Maybe that’s why Diavolo seemed to think they’d heal faster with you around. Little parasites…You parted from him after a while, holding the cold pack in your hands.
“I’m going to place this on you. Are you ready?” You waited till he nodded before you settled the weight on his injured leg, covering his ankle and the better part of his calf. He winced, but after a minute, seemed a bit more relieved. You took this moment to curl up at his side, stroking his hair, watching the more strained and exhausted lines in his face fade. “Will you tell me more about what happened? I want to take care of all of you the best that I can, but I can’t do that if I don’t know anything.”
“It all happened so fast…” He tried to snuggle into you without moving too much. “We were all just fighting to calm it down, but I got knocked out of the air and…it trampled my leg. I don’t remember the last time I felt so much pain. But, even so, I think I got away the luckiest…” Your poor boys…You knew that…as a human, you would’ve been little to no help in such a situation like that anyway, but still, you felt a little guilty that you weren’t there in the moment to try to help them. “I don’t know what happened to everyone, it’s still all a blur. I blacked out for a bit…but I think Satan has a broken arm. Maybe he knows more than I do.”
“Really?” Your gasp almost sounded breathless. “What do demons usually do for broken bones?”
Asmo slowly shook his head. “We don’t need much. I’m sure he’s already got it wrapped up. It should only take a few days to go back to normal. He’s probably upset that he can’t read his books very well, though.” After talking for so long, he whined a bit, trying to pull you closer. “It’s so cold…”
You moved your arm to shift the ice-pack to a different part of his injured leg, letting him hold you so he could absorb your body warmth. “You should take that medicine soon and then get some rest,” you encouraged. “Sleep is often the most important step to recovery.” Asmo simply made a little whine, vocalizing his disappointment but unable to disagree. At the risk of never being able to leave his room again, you planted a gentle kiss on his forehead. “I’ll have my D.D.D. on me, so if you need anything else, just call or message me.” You tucked the blanket tighter around him, guiding his arms away from you and down to the bed. Despite him usually distressing over his hair, he smiled when a few of your fingers brushed through the strands atop his head, his eyelids flickering, like even such a simple gesture was coaxing him to rest. “Meds then beds, Asmo,” you repeated once more, watching him blush at the childish-sounding mantra. You got to your feet, making sure the lights in the room were dim. “I’ll be back to check on you later…Feel better.”
You watched him blow you a kiss before you left, heading in the direction of Satan’s room.
Satan would be a risky one. You had no way of knowing if his injuries would keep him from being angry or if they would make him even angrier. Not to mention he’s not the most vulnerable of the brothers. He had already tried to hide his broken arm from you –although rather poorly. However, at breakfast, he did seem rather calm about everything. Even breaking character and telling you to go to classes just to keep Lucifer in a good mood. Definitely not like Satan. Which either meant Wrath’s injuries were bothering him so much, he couldn’t even be angry towards Lucifer…or…what if Lucifer had been hurt enough to…No. He didn’t seem that bad when he addressed you in the entrance hall. Lucifer had almost seemed normal. There was no way Satan would worry about his older brother over mild wounds.
Ah, but thinking about this was keeping you from what you should actually be doing, which was action! You might’ve been stalling a little bit, worried that as soon as you knocked on Satan’s door, his demon form would rush through. Fortune favors the bold, you recited in your head, hoping it would work as a spell of sorts. You knocked on Satan’s door, only just now realizing that you didn’t prepare or bring anything with you like you had done for Asmo. Although, maybe it was for the best. If you had come in with armfuls of stuff you thought he would need, trying to fuss over him, it would probably irritate him. He’d just have to tell you what he needed himself.
There was no answer. Should you head in yourself?...No, that might be a death sentence. Should you announce yourself? But then would he even open the door if he knew it was you? He’d probably just shout back ‘there’s nothing to worry about’ or even ‘do you think I’m incapable of taking care of myself’. So you knocked once more, remaining quiet, trying to strain your ears to see if you could hear even just the faintest of pages moving. Of course, just as you were pressing your ear up against the door, the entire thing rattled. Even the doorframe shuddered. “Go away!”
Well…so much for your hopes of him not being angry. What did you really expect? His title was Wrath. You shuffled on your feet for a moment, lingering by the door. Knocking a third time might set him off…maybe you should say it was you right as you opened the door. Or maybe–
“I can still hear you!” The voice in his chest rumbled, a strong aura approaching rapidly from the other side. “I swear to Diavolo, whoever it is better be gone in five seconds before I teach you what it means to –” The door opened so violently, the air almost sucked you forward.
You jumped back, already giving your apologies. “Don’t be mad! I came back home because I heard what happened, and I already checked on Asmo and he told me that you got hurt and that I should check on you, and –”
“MC?” The aura of fury mostly faded, the door partially shutting again as you assumed Satan was trying to hide the injured arm behind the wood. “What’re you doing at home? We told you to go to classes!”
“I said don’t be mad!”
Satan took a deep breath, a little glare staring at you from through the crack in the open door. “You said that Asmo told you what happened?” Well, technically Diavolo was the first one to tell you, Asmo giving more details but…now was not the time to argue over semantics. “And he told you to come check on me?” You nodded, thinking naively that maybe Satan would be touched that his brother was concerned about him. Instead, a darkness clouded his eyes, the door opening once more, only this time, Satan stormed out, fully intent on marching down the hall, probably to give Asmo his personal feelings on the matter.
Without thinking about it, you grabbed the back of his shirt, pulling on it with as much strength as a human could muster. “Stop! He’s hurt enough already! I just put him to bed! If you want someone to be mad at, be mad at me!”
Satan’s feet stopped, of his own free will obviously, seeing as you were probably not impeding his progress as much as you were hoping. You stood your ground, although a little bit shakily, and your eyes finally noticed his arm. He, as you and Asmo both expected, had already treated it to the best of his abilities. It was wrapped in bandages that even you could tell were soaked in something magical, and it was resting in a makeshift sling he had seemingly made out of one of his pillowcases. It had several different adorable cats on it, which was a strange contrast to the furious look he was giving you. “First you scream at me to not be mad, and now you’re telling me to direct my wrath towards you instead of Asmo? Which is it?! Pick!”
“I’d prefer neither, if I’m being honest!” You exclaimed, releasing his clothes so he could turn around fully, facing you. Your shoulders slumped a bit as you stared at his arm, your eyelids drooping in sorrow. “But it’s fine. Yell at me.” If this is what he needed… “Take your anger out on me!” If you could prevent the others from being hurt again…you’d do anything. “Whatever you need to feel better.” You lifted your head to stare him down only to lower it as soon as you felt a little bonk on your head.
As soon as the side of his hand gently struck the top of your skull, he deflated. “Are you an entire idiot?” An exhausted sigh left his lungs, rubbing at his eyes before lowering his good arm. “Taking my anger out on you would leave you hurt or even worse. Don’t you know better than to provoke a demon? I thought we all taught you better than that.”
You rubbed the part he had hit, although it had startled you more than hurt you. Squaring your shoulders, you changed your stance to one to make it look as though you had planned this to work all along. Wait…who was supposed to be scolding who? You came here to look after him, not the other way around! “And I thought maybe you all would trust me a bit more to actually tell me the truth rather than sneak around and skulk in your rooms!” As you both locked eyes, his gaze almost flickered away from you at that. Time to double down. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re just as much of an idiot.” Normally, statements like that would rile him up again, but you were, perhaps, riding on the fact that you knew he had a weakness for you. That, and the fact that you came up and wrapped your arms around his waist probably saved you from retaliation. “I might be an idiot, sure, but I’m not completely stupid.” Your head rested against his good shoulder. “I know when something feels off with you all. Did you really expect me to stand idly by as you all suffered?”
His little huff disturbed a few strands of your hair. “I guess I was hoping it would take you a bit longer before you found out…We all underestimated you again, didn’t we?”
“Never forget that humans thrive on stubbornness and spite,” you reminded him with a little grin. You pulled apart from him and took his good hand. “Let’s get out of this cold hallway. You should be in bed.” A noise of mild surprise stuck in his throat as you tugged him back into his bedroom, shutting the door, carefully stepping over and around little piles of books to bring him back to his bed. He sat back down on his mattress, glaring daggers at a hardcover lying face up and open over his covers. With a swipe of his hand much like a cat, he batted it clean off his bed. Something in the back of your mind clicked. The knock at the door wasn’t what made him upset, was it? Asmo mentioned something like this, didn’t he? “Are you mad that you can’t turn the pages?”
Heat suddenly flared up in his cheeks, almost growling. “It shouldn’t be that hard!” His broken arm was his dominant one…
“What happened to your e-book tablet? That should be fine for now, right?”
“I lent it to Levi…” He settled back against his pillows, staring out the window. “But it’s fine, I don’t need it. Don’t bother him.”
You looked out the window with him, wondering if there was something fascinating out there or if it was another excuse to not look you in the eyes. You sat down beside him on the bed, your forefinger resting on his good hand, tracing circles into his knuckles. You caught him trying to glance at you out of the corner of his eyes, gaze a bit softer than it had been. “Do you know what happened to the rest of your brothers? I remember Levi ran off before I could even get a good look at him.”
Satan’s jaw tightened, a little bump forming in one of his cheeks as his tongue pressed against the side of his mouth, struggling to talk but luckily finally sharing some information. “Asmo’s knee got dislocated and has multiple fractures throughout his leg. We managed to fix it up mostly, but he still can’t walk on it very well. I remember trying to get to him, turning my back for just a second. Just one second. Then I think I was kicked. Next thing I remember, I was waking up far away from battle, my arm completely broken from the shoulder down. I returned to the fight when it was nearly over.” Against his own better judgment, he tried to shift his injured shoulder as if maybe it had healed in the little bit of time you had been with him. He winced, cursing a bit, squeezing his eyes shut till the sharp pain went away. As you rubbed his other good arm, you had to wonder to yourself if the brothers had had very many instances with pain like this. For humans, it wasn’t really rare to break a bone or dislocate something at all. What usually hurt you was nothing more than perhaps mild discomfort to these demons. So for them to feel this much pain… “We’re supposed to be your protectors…” Satan found your hand with his and gave it a squeeze. “For all of us to be put out of commission like this…”
Your heart tugged at that. “Satan…” You stroked the side of his face with the back of your other hand, shaking your head a little. “Don’t be so dramatic. I don’t think any less of you. Not for any of you. Let me take care of all of you this time. I may not be super strong, or super fast, or insanely powerful…but I can do this at least. So please, don’t push me away. Let me help. Do you want me to go get your tablet from Levi’s room?”
For a moment, he was speechless, slowly tilting his head towards your touch before closing his eyes completely. “If you would…yes, please.”
“Then I’ll go do that,” you beamed. “Anything else you want me to get for you?”
He shook his head, rubbing his cheek against your hand like his favorite felines till it was settled in your palm. “Not right now…but listen, Levi’s not…doing well. Please, be careful.”
“What happened to him?”
He straightened, obviously wanting more of your attention but turning serious. Sure, they all taunted and joked around with each other, fought with each other, said they couldn’t stand each other, as siblings are wont to do, but even Satan seemed upset when he spoke about his older brother, a special sort of worry swirling deep behind his eyes. Once he told you, you stood straight up, stomach churning. You gave Satan’s hand a kiss before dropping it, sprinting out of his room as fast as you could.
Nothing prepared, no plan in your mind, you approached Levi’s room quickly. If what Satan had said was true…Satan wouldn’t lie about something like this. Which meant…Levi…You threw the door open, not even bothering to knock, which yeah, was kinda rude, but you couldn’t help it, you were riddled with concern. It was a good thing you did too, because he was doing worse than you had imagined. “Oh god…Levi…” You whispered, almost losing the strength in your voice at the shock.
Unlike his other two brothers you’d visited so far, he seemed to have taken no steps to take care of himself from earlier. You could hardly blame him though, seeing him like this, clothes still filthy from the flight, covered in dirt and…blood. His blood. It was all over his face, matting his hair, coating his eyelids. His hands were also covered in it, clawing at his scalp, rolling around on the floor in pain, silently crying. Had he been this way for hours? And no one bothered to tell you? No one bothered to take care of him this way?! It hit you suddenly, that perhaps no one was here to help Levi because no one could. Were all the others this way?...Or were the ones you had yet to see even worse?
Glancing at him was enough to figure out a list of what he needed. Sneaking back into Asmo’s room, you were at the very least pleased to see that the medicine bottle had a smidge less of its contents, meaning Asmo had taken some for the pain. This was what Levi needed now. You held onto it carefully, allowing yourself to look at Asmo’s sleeping face for only a split-second before leaving Lust to his beauty sleep. You dashed around the house in nearly a panic, gathering a few other things until your human arms couldn’t carry anything else. You returned to Levi’s bedroom, shutting the door behind you with your foot, nearly dropping all the items on the floor beside him, careful not to break any of the valuables. “Levi?” You spoke gently, voice filled with compassion and yet sorrow. You hated seeing him like this. You frowned as the demon continued to squirm, gasping, unable to focus on anything other than the unimaginable pain he was going through. You almost reached out to touch his head, but that would’ve been the worst idea right now seeing as how…his horns were gone.
Heart breaking in pieces, you grabbed his wrists, trying to prevent him from causing any more damage to his head. Although his eyes were still closed, he reached out for you, gripping your clothes so tightly, he ripped holes in them with his fingers. “Help me…” He cried, not embarrassed at being caught this way, just desperate for some relief, for someone to care for him when he could not.
“I am…I’m here,” you assured him, placing your arms under his, suddenly doing your best to slightly pick him up, dragging him over to his wall so you could prop him up against it. Somehow, you did this successfully, the adrenaline in you giving you strength you didn’t know you had. Fumbling with the medicine bottle, you poured the proper dosage into the cap. When Barbatos had given this to you, you almost laughed, ready to question why it was a liquid kind rather than in some capsule form. Now you answered your own question. Levi was hardly in a state well enough to consume this much, you didn’t want to imagine the kind of pain you would have put the both of you through if you had tried to get him to swallow a pill. Keeping him still with a hand against his face, you told him to open his mouth, dumping the medicine past his lips.
Magically, it seemed to almost work as soon as he swallowed it. His twitching lessened, his breathing not as shallow. “MC?” He muttered your name weakly, trying to open his eyes, but finding that his dried blood had essentially sealed his eyes shut. It’s a good thing you brought a rag and a little bowl of clean warm water.
“It’s me,” you confirmed, getting the rag wet and brushing it over his face, working on clearing up the eyelids, getting it off his eyelashes. Soon, his tears were no longer limited to slipping from the corners of his eyes. They dripped down his face, streaking down more grime as they did so. You were quick to wipe that all away, getting his face clean, trying to ignore the way he was rubbing his head against the wall. Although doing so seemed to bring him some relief, as long as he didn’t accidently touch the two bloody nubs just barely peeking above his blue-hair. After you’d cleaned his face, the medicine, your presence, and the steady motion against the cold wall had his crying stop completely. Now he simply seemed two steps away from passing out, and while you knew he desperately needed sleep after all that, you did hope you could get him fully clean before then. “Let’s try to get you to the shower, come on.” You took both his hands, leaning your full body weight back, persuading him up on his feet.
A small wave of despair flooded over you from him as a little bit of his negative personality came through. “Gross…” He muttered, hardly having the energy in him to speak. “And dir…dirty…” He did get up eventually, almost falling forward, leaning a ton of his dead-weight on you instead.
“I know, Levi, I know…We’re going to work on you getting clean. I’m going to need you to try to stand up though…or we’ll both fall…” Your legs were already shaking at the added pressure. Demons sure were heavy…He managed to find the strength to carry himself, holding your hand tightly as you led him through the doorway to his room. He kept wobbling, unbalanced on his own feet. Was he that exhausted or��was the sudden loss of horns on his head throwing off his entire natural stability? You tugged him away from the doorframe he was about to walk straight into, carefully and slowly leading him towards the House’s main bathroom.
Despite being really out of it, he suddenly seemed to realize where you both were as soon as the bathroom door closed you both in. “I…I…I…” Was all he could stutter. You grabbed one of the bathroom’s chairs – an interior design choice you always questioned, but one you were grateful for now – and settled him in one, working to pull his dirty hoodie off, some of your fingers brushing over the blue scale-like details in his skin. Finally, this last act was enough to bring him almost fully to his senses. “Don’t!” He held onto his clothes while you had brought them nearly fully off, the fabric bunched up over his head, covering his face. “I…I can do it…I’ll be out– be out soon…”
You allowed yourself to take a breath, thinking about the fact that you were essentially tearing off his clothes. Shaking your head, trying to gather yourself and your own senses, you agreed. “Okay…just remember no shampoo or anything, alright? I’ll bring you clean clothing and be right outside the door.” He didn’t exactly have the power to deny you, so he just agreed with a groan, pulling his hoodie off the rest of the way, letting it fall to the floor. Giving him his privacy, you left the room, turning back down the hall to gather Levi some clean clothes. You didn’t really know how to treat broken horns…Satan had briefly explained enough to assure you that they would grow back, it would just be extremely uncomfortable to say the least. You had to just hope that you were doing enough…and if you could help Asmo and Satan recover, they could probably help the others in ways you could not. One step at a time though. Folding up a set of clean and soft clothes, you hurried back to the bathroom, giving it a small knock. “Levi, I’m going to open up the door enough to put these inside, okay?”
“F–Fine…” It was faint, but you heard it, opening the door just wide enough to settle the clothes on the floor before shutting it again, resting your forehead against the wood. There was silence other than the sound of rushing water. Then there was a little squeak as the showerhead turned off, a few stray drops striking the floor. You then heard him shuffling, moaning a little bit in pain as he worked to get himself dressed. As you finally took a step back from the door, it opened, Levi grasping on the door handle, his fresh clothes you’d brought him clinging to his still-soaking body.
You sighed a bit and pointed to the chair that had remained in the place you’d left it. “Sit,” you demanded, careful not to let the magic of the pact work its way in your words. With how weak he was, you didn’t want to force his body to do anything. Levi looked at you with wide eyes before lowering his head, almost whimpering, sitting in the seat. You stepped inside, finding a soft towel, beginning to run it over his body. This was probably a useless gesture. The brothers had already explained to you that temperature, little things like staying wet, they weren’t that hazardous to demons. Yet, you couldn’t help but do it anyway, getting his arms and his legs, his neck. His hair still had a decent amount of dried blood in it, but you’d have to worry about that later. Even just touching his hairline almost had him flinch. “Okay,” you told him once you felt satisfied, going over one last spot with the towel as you cleared the water from dripping into his eyes. “Let’s get you to bed.”
He had no complaints at that, letting you drag him back to his bedroom. It probably wasn’t needed, but you held onto his shoulders as you helped him hoist himself into his strange nest of a bed. He immediately curled up into it, a sigh leaving his chest as he finally seemed to have a reprieve from constant pain. You unfurled one of the blankets you’d brought from your room, the one he always seemed to tug away from you if he spent the night in your room. Pulling it over him, he finally looked up at you, eyes almost wavering with emotion as he gripped at the comforter.
“Get lots of sleep. I’ll bring you food when you wake up as well as anything else you need.” You wished you could stroke his head, petting him softly. You’d have to resolve yourself to rubbing his arm instead. “Do you know if any of your other brothers really need my help right now?” You could only start to imagine what the others might be going through in silence. Levi suddenly looked frightened as he began to recall the others. He raised his head enough to speak clearly, a pleading sort of squeak in his voice. “B-Beel.”
You steeled yourself as you approached the twin’s room. On one hand, this would be an opportunity to take care of two brothers at once. On the other hand, you knew you would suffer seeing the state the two youngest brothers were in. Levi had finally passed out as soon as he uttered his brother’s name, unable to stay awake any longer, so you had no idea what afflicted Gluttony and Sloth. Beel had shown up to breakfast at least. Yet, you had to wonder if any injury was enough to keep him away from food. He’d probably be hungry now…maybe you should’ve made him something. Best to check on them first though while you were here.
At least you knew the twins were not as likely to turn you away as the others. Beel didn’t have that sort of stubbornness in him, and he was hardly embarrassed by anything. Belphie might initially be irritated, but he was the spoiled one. He would probably quickly change his feelings as soon as he knew you would do anything for him. A little sigh came out of you as you gathered yourself. A few of your knocks seemed to echo down the quiet halls. With these two, you announced yourself without hesitating, hoping to hear a voice on the other side. “Beel? Belphie? It’s me. Can I come in?” Nothing. Not too surprising actually. Perhaps they were both asleep? That would be a preferable scenario. “I’m coming in,” you warned, pausing for a few seconds before pushing the door open.
The room was dark, a slight glow coming from the sun and moon decals behind the twin’s bed. It allowed you just enough light to keep from tripping on your own feet. The first thing you noticed was surprisingly Belphie’s bed. Empty. But not even just devoid of a demon, empty entirely. Pillows, blankets, stuffed cushions, even the sheets, all tugged off Sloth’s bed in what appeared to be a fit of frustration. Nothing was damaged but the mattress was bare, the nest Belphie usually slept in was in heaps on the ground. Luckily, Beel’s bed was not in the same state, a large lump under the covers, a few ginger tufts sticking out from the blanket’s hem. He usually snored, but it didn’t seem to be the case this time, which had you wondering if he was awake or not. He was, however, wheezing a little, each breath taken in shakily and painfully. You came over quietly, nervous about trying to tap him or shake him when you weren’t sure about the state he was in. So, you simply pulled down the comforter enough to see his face, rubbing the top of his head, assuming with imaginary crossed-fingers that he didn’t share Levi’s injuries. His eyebrows were scrunched in pain, but as soon as he felt your hand on his head, his eyes fluttered open. “MC?”
“Hi, Beel,” you tried to grin, sitting next to him on the bed. “How’re you feeling?”
“Huh?” His eyes closed again as he seemed to be thinking, humming once he came to a conclusion. “How did you know? I was told we weren’t supposed to tell you.”
So this wasn’t some unanimous brotherly bond of secrecy? Which one of these stupid, pig-headed, prideful– ah, Lucifer told them all to hush, didn’t he? You’d have to give the eldest a scolding of your own later, even at the risk of your own health. It was what he deserved. However, that wasn’t your main concern at the moment. You nodded towards Beel. “Diavolo told me. So, I’ve been checking in on all of you. I’m here to take care of you. Anything you want– within reason –and I’ll get it for you.”
Unlike his other siblings, Beel actually smiled. “I’m glad.” He tried to let out a relieved exhale, but only twitched in pain as soon as he tried. “Stuff like this doesn’t happen a lot. I’m sure some of them don’t know what to do…so I’m glad you’re here for them.”
“I’m here for you too, you know,” you had to remind him. “Can you tell me what happened to you so I can help you?”
Suddenly he frowned deeply, a sulking and guilty look crossing over his face. “I tried to help…but I ended up causing more problems for everyone…” He seemed one step away from crying, but managed not to, looking away from you instead. “Mammon was the distraction, but everyone could tell he was getting tired. I didn’t want him to get hurt so I…” He moaned a little as he took a breath to keep talking. “It ended up charging. I took the hit. I play Fangol, so I thought I could take it…but I…” He pushed the rest of the covers off him with one hand, the blankets folding up around his feet. You noticed that there were several little packets resting on his body. At least you discovered where the ice-packs were now. They appeared to all have melted though, deflated and warm. You’d have to put them back in the freezer. Beel pulled up part of his shirt, revealing the huge discolored bruises that covered his torso. He rested his hand beside him on the bed, trying to look at his own injuries with a little bit of confusion, like he wasn’t used to feeling this way. “Hurt my ribs,” he finally stated. “And it was all for nothing…my brothers all got hurt anyway…”
“That’s not your fault, Beel.” With a kind hand, you turned his head towards you. “It’s not. You all did what you thought was best in the moment. You won’t start to feel better if you keep beating yourself up over it. Let yourself rest physically and mentally, okay?” You rubbed his head again, the gesture making him grin again. It was an act he mostly saw happen to his twin, so he was probably internally thrilled it was his turn this time. “Promise me you’ll rest.”
“I’ll try…it’s hard though…I’m worried.”
“About your brothers?”
He slowly nodded. “Yeah…I know a lot of them got hurt pretty badly. Belphie seemed pretty restless earlier. I think that’s keeping me up too.”
“So I take it you won’t be able to sleep till I take care of the rest of them?”
Either he was taking this whole thing extra hard, or perhaps he heard the exhaustion that was beginning to creep into your voice. “Sorry…”
You tugged his shirt back down over his bruised body, picking up the multiple used-up ice packs that needed to be refrozen. “Don’t be, Beel. It’s nice that you care for your brothers that deeply. I’ve checked on Asmo, Satan, and Levi already. They’re on their first steps to recovery.” At that fact, a few lines of worry left Beel’s forehead. “I’ll put these in the kitchen for a little bit, make you a snack, and bring you some medicine, and then I’ll go take care of the rest of your siblings, okay?”
At the mention of a snack, his stomach rumbled. “Please?”
For a giant, muscular demon, he really could be adorable. “Of course. I’ll be right back, okay?” You tucked the covers around him for now, getting up to leave the room to finish up your new tasks. First off, the medicine you’d left in Levi’s room. You opened the door quietly, glad Levi was sleeping soundly. While you were here, you’d better find Satan’s tablet before Wrath got too impatient. Luckily, it was simply resting on Levi’s desk. Tucking that and the medicine under one arm, you left Levi to his dreams, rushing back down to Satan’s room. You were glad when knocking didn’t result in making him angry again. In fact, he didn’t respond at all. You were surprised to find Satan fast asleep when you took a peek inside his room. You couldn’t help but smile a bit at his peaceful face, setting down his tablet on his nightstand, leaving him to head to the kitchen.
As you opened the kitchen door, you nearly walked into someone else. The demon blinked. “Beel? Oh…you’re not Beel.”
“Belphie!” You were a bit comforted at the fact that he seemed to be walking around just fine. “What’re you doing in here? Shouldn’t you be resting?”
“Looking for Beel…” He muttered, his eyes glazed over with pain and exhaustion, and yet despite that and being Sloth, he didn’t seem up for sleeping just yet.
“He’s up in your room. He’s been there since breakfast…did you not notice him?” You walked around the demon for a moment, trying to multitask, putting the warm ice-packs in the freezer. You placed down the medicine on the counter, pulling out a few things to make and bring for Beel. Something easy to eat.
“I don’t…remember…my head hurts…” Belphie lowered his head, looking away from the light in the room.
He was acting a bit odd… “Come sit down for a minute,” you coaxed, coming over to take him by the shoulders, making him sit down at the kitchen island. “If your head hurts, take some medicine. Here.” Like you had done for Levi, you poured the medicine in the cap, holding it out for Belphie to take. Rather than taking it in his own hands, he parted his lips slightly, waiting for you to do it for him. Like you said earlier…spoiled. You couldn’t help but chuckle just a little bit as you gave him the medicine, turning your back to him to wash the cap again. Your humor was short-lived as you heard him rush out of his seat so fast, he knocked the chair over. “Belphie?” You turned just in time to watch him bend over a trash can, purging the medicine you’d just given him. Almost dropping what you’d had in your hand, you rushed over to his side, keeping him steady as he continued to be sick, a few coughs and cries between heaves.
Once he was done, he fell to the ground, using the fabric of his sleeve to wipe off his lips, pressing his forehead against the cold floor. “What’s…wrong…with…me?”
A headache, light sensitivity, restlessness…nausea…As you hurried to grab him a cup of water, you tried to connect the symptoms to something. Although, it’s not like you were a demon doctor or anything, how were you supposed to know for certain? You did have a guess though…You knelt beside him, grabbing his arm to pull him up upright just enough so he was sitting up against a cabinet. You tried getting him to hold the glass of water, but he kept batting you away. “Belphie…drink some. Here, take sips.” You supported the back of his head, making him drink in little doses before you felt satisfied. “I’m sorry for making you take the medicine when your stomach was upset…I had no idea.” You frowned, trying not to lecture yourself too harshly, gently placing the back of your hand on his forehead.
At the touch, he collapsed forward, his arms wrapping around you, keeping you in a death-like grip. “So…tired…where’s Beel?”
It would be bad if he fell asleep on you like this…You wouldn’t be able to leave…”I just told you…in your room. Did you hurt your head, Belphie?” Could demons get concussions? This seemed close to that, whatever it was. You rubbed his back at the risk of lulling him to sleep.
“I…think so…”
“Poor Belphie…” You couldn’t help but say aloud, letting him squeeze you a bit. “Let’s take you to bed. Can you stand up? I can’t carry you…”
“Bed?...”
“Yeah, in your room. A nice soft bed. I just need you to stand up for me…” After a bit of processing, he managed to stand…although he was still holding onto you, only shuffling his feet whenever you moved. His head rested in the crook of your neck, arms around your waist. He was making everything a lot harder…but if this is what he wanted…Placing a few snacks and the bottle of medicine on a tray, you somehow managed to hold onto it while having Belphie cling to you like his life depended on it. “Let’s go…” This would be an adventure. Each step you took towards the twins room, you felt more of Belphie’s strength leave him, leaning on you a little harder the further you got. By some miracle, you both made it, trying to not collapse to the floor while almost fully dragging Belphie around.
As you opened the door, you noticed Beel brighten at the sight of you two, holding his sides as he sat up. You almost warned him against it, but if he was going to eat, better to do it upright. You weren’t sure if you’d be able to give a demon a Heimlich Maneuver if he started to choke. “Belphie! You found him.”
Gritting your teeth a bit, you managed to pull the mentioned twin further into the room, settling the tray on Beel’s lap. “Yeah…he’s not doing so well…Can you take him off of me so I can make his bed?”
Beel’s face fell a little bit, ignoring the snacks for now, grabbing both of Belphie’s arms, having to pry his twin off of you. You stretched a bit as soon as the weight left your shoulders. “Thanks…” Time to tackle this mess of a bed now…At least you knew Belphie wasn’t exactly picky when it came to his sleeping spots. Still, you wanted to do your best. You worked on finding the sheets first, tugging them over each of the corners. You heard the twins muttering to each other behind you, both of them trying to support each other in their own ways despite being injured. It warmed your heart, giving you a bit more energy to keep going. After the sheets were on, you threw all the cushions, letting them settle wherever they fell, spreading out the blankets and tucking back one of the corners. “Alright, Belphie, let’s tuck you in.”
The youngest’s knees were on the floor, the top half of him resting on Beel’s bed, his body slowly slipping towards the ground. You came over behind him, hands on his sides, trying to pull him up and over to his bed. “I want…to stay…with Beel…”
“I think it’s best if you stay in your own beds for now…” Although you were pretty tempted to do whatever he asked. Especially since he sounded so broken-hearted over leaving his twin despite only being a few feet away from him. “What if you hurt his ribs while trying to hug him? Or what if you accidentally hit your head against something since you’d be cramped trying to stay in the same bed? Once you both feel better, you can sleep wherever you want.” He didn’t really fight you, huddling up into a little ball on his bed once you’d guided him into it. You made sure only the softest of his pillows were placed under his head as you tucked several blankets around him, hoping he could sleep despite the pain he was in.
“He looks worse than I remember…” Beel whispered from his own bed.
“I think he must’ve hit his head pretty hard sometime during the fight,” you shared, trying to get Belphie to fall asleep by rubbing circles into his back over the blankets. “He was wandering around looking for you, and then threw up the medicine when I gave it to him. I’ll try to have him take some again after he sleeps. Maybe his stomach will settle by then.”
Suddenly, Beel found it hard to eat his snacks, like he could feel his brother’s nausea as his own…or maybe he found it hard to enjoy himself while all his other siblings were suffering. He still managed to eat, just slowly, the two of you sitting in relative silence for a bit, observing Belphie as his eyelids struggled to stay open, finally shutting and remaining still. “MC?” Beel called your name softly, waving you over. You got up and approached him, an eyebrow raised. He surprised you as he took your face in his hands, pressing his forehead against yours. “You’re the best. I’m glad we have you looking after us…Thank you.”
“You all can thank me by getting better as quickly as you can.” You kissed his cheek, pulling away from him with a hand settled on one of your hips. “Try to rest too if possible. Leave your brothers to me…and let me know if you or Belphie need anything.”
“Okay,” he agreed, some worry leaving him now that his twin was back in the room, knowing that the others had you caring for them. He stifled a yawn, still unable to take deep breaths. “And MC?” He made sure to address you before you left the room. You looked over your shoulder at him. “Look after yourself too, okay? You already look tired.”
You were…but you were far from being done…but, yes. You wouldn’t be much help if you got hurt from pushing yourself too hard. “I will, Beel. Don’t worry.”
Only Mammon and Lucifer remained unchecked. Out of the two of them, you figured you’d save the most problematic for last…which meant you’d head to Mammon first. While Lucifer did have a special soft-spot for you, if he was hurt, it meant his Pride was doubly wounded. There was little chance he’d let you into his room. Maybe Mammon would have some idea on how to convince the eldest to let you in, and you could care for the second-born in the meantime. You were a bit worried though…Despite his grumblings, Lucifer always looked after his siblings. So why…when they needed it the most, was Lucifer nowhere to be found? He had sent that message to the members of Purgatory Hall to ensure you’d make it to RAD safely, and that was it. There had been no sign of him since then. Focus, you encouraged yourself, pacing in a little circle in front of Mammon’s door before channeling your inner Lucifer and knocking sternly. Silence.
Somehow, despite having been met with similar disappointing responses several times today, Mammon’s missing voice sent a chill down your spine. There was no grumble, no yelp, no noise inside his room whatsoever. “Mammon?” You opened his door to spy inside. You were a quick jumble of conflicting emotions. The quietness was simply due to Mammon being completely absent from his room and not because he was so hurt he…For that you were grateful…and yet…where in the world was he?! If he was hurt, now was not the time to be out! You could only hope he was still inside the house…You’d have to go find him.
Trying to remain quiet enough not to disturb the others attempting to rest, you sprinted through the house, checking every room you came across, playing this weird and stressful game of hide-and-seek you didn’t remember signing up for. Maybe the couches in the common room? No. The music room? Sadly not. The library? Not unless he had hidden himself amongst the books…Think, think! This was Mammon. If he wasn’t in his room, where would he be?...You closed your eyes, hands pressing against your temples as if you could squeeze the information into your brain. And then…an idea. Running back through the hall, you made your way down past the brother’s bedrooms and towards your own. He always did say your room was practically his own as well, seeing as how he was there so often. You had found your room empty when you grabbed the blanket for Levi, so it had almost slipped from your mind. But there was always the possibility Mammon had snuck in there while you were off helping the others.
There it was…your door just ahead of you…opened by a crack when you had sworn you shut it completely when you’d left. He had to be there. Taking a moment to catch your breath, you padded slowly up to your bedroom, pushing the door open softly. Hair covering his face, breathing in little gasps, Mammon was resting at the end of your bed on his back, legs dangling off the mattress. You nearly jumped on your bed beside him, trying not to jostle him too much, touching the side of his face as you observed his split bottom lip. “H–hey,” he rasped, either having been awake the whole time or suddenly up at your touch. “You’re not–” His head tilted back as he groaned, biting his lip tightly, making the split in his lip worse, some of his blood dripping down his chin.
“You’re hurting yourself,” you lightly scolded. “Don’t bite on your lip like that.”
You could tell he attempted to look at you with annoyance, but it fell very short, looking like a beg instead. “Don’t…tell me what to do…”
You had several things you wanted to say to that, most of them sarcastic, but you could tell he didn’t need that right now. “We should get you back to your room…” Running your fingers through his hair, you felt how cold his skin was…You wedged a hand under one of his shoulders, ready to help push him up, only to hear him shout in pain, his cry so sharp it rang in your ears.
“Don’t move me!” He panted, cold sweat running down his forehead now in little beads, gulping down the pain. “Don’t…move me…” He repeated it, quieter this time.
Hearing him like that forced tears to prick your eyes, but you didn’t dare let them fall. “Why’d you come in here then if you were hurt that bad?!” You couldn’t help but raise your voice a bit, the tone almost breaking in a little bit of panic. He looked worse for wear…beyond that, even.
“Heh…” It was a mix between a whine and a chuckle. “I’m the stupid one…remember?” That appeared to be his only answer. He turned his head away from you and closed his eyes. “Just leave me here…yeah?” You wanted to do something, wanted to say something, but you suddenly found yourself at a loss. What should you do? What had happened to the troublesome Greed to make him like this?
“Where?...” You finally spoke, voice a little strained. “Where are you hurt?...How badly?” He didn’t respond, and for a moment, you were worried he had blacked out. But then slowly, he reached for your hand, weakly holding it in his own.
“Badly…”
“Where?” You asked again.
There was a wheeze as he tilted his head towards you again, the life draining from his face, blinking slowly. “Got me…right in the chest…’batos patched me up, but…hurts like hell…” He tried looking you in the eyes, but cast his gaze away quickly, probably embarrassed at the way he looked right now. ‘Not cool at all’, he would probably say under normal conditions. Gradually, despite his stubbornness, he lifted up his shirt. His chest was tightly bound in bandages, three large lines of blood bleeding out through the cloth. He’d been cut…or clawed at was probably the better term. Greed was selfish, ‘scummy’ most called him, and yet, he took a deep and painful breath, using up energy he didn’t really have to ask you a specific question. “How’re the others?”
“I’ve been helping them as much as I can…”
“Lucifer?”
“I haven’t seen him yet...Is he bad?”
He licked at his dry lips, swallowing some nervousness. “Don’t…tell him I told you…” His eyes looked around like he was worried his older brother might pop out of the walls. Once he figured he was safe enough, he sighed. “Idiot’s worse than I am.”
The words struck you harshly, leaving you feeling almost numb. “Worse? He seemed almost fine when you all came home.”
“That’s pride for ya…”
Your head lowered, trying to ignore the worry pounding in your chest. One step at a time… One brother at a time…Now was not the time to sulk. “If we can’t get you to your room, let’s at least try to straighten you out…”
“You’re askin’ a lot of me here…” It came off as a little bit of a joke, Mammon mentally preparing himself. “The Great…Mammon will move for ya…You might have to help a little though.” He gestured towards his feet, having you grab his ankles to swing him around vertically. Meanwhile, he dug his elbows into the mattress, pulling himself up to where your pillows were. Unlike before, he kept himself from shouting this time, probably to save some face. However, now his body was slightly trembling, pain wracking his body.
“You did it,” you praised, tugging the remaining blankets out from under him so you could place them over his body. You pet his head, trying to dab away some of his sweat with the corner of the covers. “Good job…” You noticed your own hands were shaking. “...Hey…you’ll be okay, won’t you?” Finally, without your permission, you felt some tears slip from your eyes. “You’re not going to die on me, are you?”
The corner of his mouth twitched in a smile. “Nah…It’ll take a lot more…than some measly scratches…to do me in.”
“Promise?...”
He reached a hand up to brush away one of your tears, only to quickly lose the strength, his arm dropping limply to his sides. “I promise. I wouldn’t lie to ya. Give me a few days…and I’ll be right back on my feet.” You didn’t mean to doubt him, but you’d have to contact Diavolo to double check. Although, if Barbatos truly was the one to mend these wounds, you doubted he would’ve let Mammon go if he was in critical condition.
“Barbatos gave me medicine for the pain. I’ll go get it for you, okay?” You ran your hand up and down his arm. “Do you want anything else?”
“Eh…if you’re askin’, some water would be nice.”
“I can do that!” You didn’t mean to sound so enthusiastic, but if that’s all he wanted to feel better, you could do that easily. It made you feel a little less useless in this situation. “I’ll be right back!” Thank goodness the kitchen was right next door, although you left the medicine in the twin’s room…Maybe at this point, you should just have it strapped to you, since it seemed everyone needed some, making you run back for it all the time. At least it gave you an excuse to peek in on the twins again. Heading to the room first, you tip-toed in. Both twins were asleep. Now, you weren’t necessarily the prayerful type, but even you were tempted to slip in a little thank-you to the universe or whoever else might be listening. You grabbed the bottle of medicine once more and bolted back downstairs. In this situation, you would’ve been tempted to fill up the fanciest glass for Mammon, but if he could hardly move…a glass probably wouldn’t cut it…What did they have in here? You rummaged through the shelves and cupboards, looking for something that might be more useful than just a glass. Ah! One of Beel’s sports water bottles! It was one of those kinds where you hit a button and a little straw pops out. If only it wasn’t so large…oh well. Beggars can’t be choosers. You filled it up with filtered water, leaving enough empty space so if you were to tilt it, water wouldn’t come spilling out. Then you made your way back to Mammon, almost out of breath with as fast as you had been moving. You crawled up in bed on your knees, already in the process of pouring him some medicine. “Here…” You could only hope he wouldn’t be sick like Belphie. You helped him tilt his head up, pouring it into his mouth, watching him grimace.
“Awful stuff…” Although, like for Levi, it started to take effect immediately. He took a moment to himself, breathing clearly, his body no longer shuddering. Then as the pain subsided, he started to realize just how dry his throat felt. “Water,” he demanded, a little bit of warmth coming to his cheeks…thank goodness. “Please,” he added.
You handed him the water bottle and watched as he greedily chugged it down, almost emptying it entirely. “Easy!” You warned. “Don’t make yourself sick.”
He gasped for air once he had gulped down enough, already looking worlds better than when you had found him, although he still was looking rough. “--’is the best water…ever had…”
You sighed, releasing a ton of tension you’d been holding in your lungs. “It’s a good year…Vintage.” Not the best joke you’d ever made, a pretty terrible one actually, but one you shared nonetheless. Anything to break the tension.
A breathy huff left his nostrils, the best he could manage for a laugh while his chest was in tatters. You suddenly felt his fingers weave through yours, holding your hand as he closed his eyes. “Thank you…”
You brushed some of his hair away from his eyes, feeling the temperature in his skin begin to return to normal. “You’re welcome…Get some rest. Please don’t move rooms while I’m gone.”
“I won’t…” He cracked one eye back open. “Gonna see Lucifer?”
“I’ll…try. If he’s worse off than you are, I have no idea how he’ll let me even near him.” You rubbed your thumb comfortingly against Mammon’s, thinking as you frowned. These demons…You felt like your already shorter-in-comparison life-span was shrinking even further at the stress.
Mammon hummed a little bit, releasing his hand so you could go, although you felt his hesitation. He didn’t want to let you go, but he knew he had to. “If he’s doin’ what I think he’s doin’, he’s in recovery mode right now. He’s shut himself down to heal as fast as he can to not disappoint Diavolo.” One of his fingers raised to point towards your door. “His door is probably locked, but I know Lucifer keeps an emergency Master Key somewhere in his office.”
That sounded like a lot of work for something Lucifer would probably hate you for rather than be grateful. Intruding his office just to further intrude his bedroom after he locked it…If anyone knew what he was doing, it would be the eldest…Maybe you should leave him be. “Sounds pretty scheme-y.” Mammon almost looked wounded at that…joke not intended. “He’s the strongest out of everyone…He probably doesn’t need my help.”
“MC…” Mammon pulled at the sleeve of your shirt, his eyes suddenly glaring at you with an unusual firmness. “Did ya not hear what I said? He’s shut down. If I can hardly move, there’s a good chance he can’t either. There’s no way he can take proper care of himself right now. ” He let go of you as he realized that he wasn’t exactly being clear. “Listen, he took a heavy hit for Diavolo. Got his wings messed up pretty badly. He was so stunned, he probably didn’t even know how badly he was hurt till he got home. If he’s not checking up on us, that means he’s unable to.” He went quiet for a moment, pressing his lips together, looking at the ceiling to your room like he was trying to sense something. Maybe he could. Maybe he had some sort of connection to Lucifer you hardly heard about, or maybe Mammon just could easily guess after having been around him for so long. “I hate to imagine it, but I have a bad feeling he’s completely unconscious.”
“Damn Lucifer and his tenacity to keep things hidden!” Hissing to yourself under your breath, you went about Lucifer’s office like a little whirlwind. No cushion, no folder, no shelf was safe while you were on the hunt. You knew once he was better, you’d get a proper punishment from Lucifer for rummaging through his office, but you could cross that bridge when you came to it. Right now, there was a stubborn demon in desperate need of your help. Maybe you should’ve checked on him first. You knew something felt off about this whole situation. The little voices in the back of your head were trying to clue you in as soon as Satan expressed mild worry about the first-born. Yet, you had pushed those aside, because Lucifer was always so put-together. It was what choked Diavolo up during your little meeting.
“And it was because I was there that–” The prince had said. ‘Lucifer was wounded’, you could finally finish that statement with your own conclusion. You pounded your palms down on Lucifer’s desk, your head low, wishing that things were different. If you were smarter, you could’ve found the key by now. If you were stronger, you could simply break Lucifer’s door down by force. If you weren’t just a human…maybe you could’ve gone and fought with them. But then you would’ve gotten hurt too…you had to tell yourself.
You sat in Lucifer’s office chair, imagining him lecturing you. ‘Pitying yourself over circumstances you have no control over is a waste of time and effort,’ he’d probably say. He would be right. Although since this was you thinking it, technically you were right. Getting frustrated wouldn’t get you anywhere. Since you were already in the process of thinking like Lucifer…where would he hide a key? Somewhere away from anything valuable for fear of Mammon finding it. So nothing near his records or anything he held dear. Being in or behind any books was probably a negative as well, just in case Satan came down to borrow some. Checking the cushions had perhaps been a waste of time, for if Belphie ever came in here to take a nap, he might knock it loose. Ugh, why did he always have to overcomplicate things? Wait…maybe that was it. Anyone who tried looking for the Master Key would probably try to think like he did, complexly. So maybe the trick was to think of this as simply as you could. Where would be a dumb place to hide something important like that? With a swift motion, you opened up one of his desk drawers, careful not to mess up the order of any important papers. Nothing. And while you did feel around for a fake bottom, you figured Lucifer’s brothers would be clever enough to check for that. Just…double-checking, following through with the ‘so-simple-it-hurts’ theory, you felt around with your hand pressed against the underside of the desk. This was probably another waste of time. The demon of Pride wouldn’t try hiding a key by just taping it under his…Your fingers brushed against cold metal. You nearly felt like screaming. With a firm tug, you pulled it free, twisting it between your fingers as you looked at it. Definitely looked like a master’s key.
Giving yourself a few seconds to mentally settle, you took a deep breath. Then, not wasting any more time, you dashed from Lucifer’s office, scrambling through the House to make it to his bedroom. You knocked on his door simply to save your own skin. Lucifer was practically a lie-detector test. Later, if he was going to ask if you even attempted to knock first before breaking in, you could rest easy knowing you did...kinda. You nearly dropped the key trying to shove it in the proper slot, heart almost sinking when it didn’t turn as easily as you felt it should’ve. With a second, more firm try, the door clicked. You opened the door so hurriedly, you nearly stumbled inside. “Lucifer, I’m–” You had heard what Mammon told you, and yet somehow, despite being told directly that Lucifer was in a bad state, you had still half-expected to see him sitting up in bed by now, glaring at you with the fury of a thousand suns. Such was not the case. When would you learn that locked doors are locked for a reason? “--here…” You found yourself still finishing your announcement,
The eldest was face-down on his bed, not even under the covers. One of his arms dangled from off the edge of his bed, hand still grasping a roll of bandages which had completely unrolled, trailing all the way off to the side. Black feathers rested in various places. Some on the floor, some over Lucifer’s unmoving body, some still fluttering down from his four unfurled wings. When Mammon had mentioned them being in bad shape, he wasn’t kidding. Each of his wings were held out, bent in ways they probably shouldn’t be, the feathers disturbed, the ones that were covered in blood were the ones that were doing him the favor of falling, like they were purging themselves of imperfections. Every so often, the silence would break with the sound of a snap. It sounded like someone was popping their fingers. It took you longer than it should to notice that Lucifer’s wings moved with that sound, albeit slightly. Was this…Were his bones fixing themselves that rapidly? In front of your eyes? You were a sickly sort of fascinated, although mostly sick. After a good few minutes had passed, you finally turned around, taking the master’s key and tucking it into your pocket, shutting the door so, at the very least, Lucifer had some semblance of the privacy he had hoped to keep.
You walked closer to him, coming around the other side of the bed to see that his other hand was gripping his sheets tightly, his knuckles white the smallest hint of a tremble in his usually firm hand. It was probably unimaginably painful… Again, you had to stop and wonder what you as a human could do in this situation… You couldn’t heal him…but you could finish what he had started, since it appeared he blacked-out before he could finish. Starting with the more obvious details, you took the rolled out bandage and took it from his hand, picking it up off the floor. It would have to be disposed of now. You chucked it in a trash can, taking Lucifer’s hand that had held it and lifted it, resting his arm near his head. There was a little pause as you waited for that to wake him up. At this, he usually would’ve grabbed you, or at least turned his head at you. No. Nothing. Not even a change in his breathing. You were almost disappointed, but it was probably the best for you both if he stayed unconscious for now. Next, you took the shoes off his feet, tucking them neatly against the foot of his bed. You really tested how out of it he was after that by tugging his blanket out from under him, draping it over his legs
Now what?...As you stood there, you noticed the bruising over his back, a few thin lines of dried blood suggesting that he had been clawed at too, only the flesh-wounds had already healed. He truly was powerful. Perhaps those ice-packs you’d put in the freezer were ready to be used again. Lucifer could use one. “I’ll be back,” you whispered, leaving him to his own devices for a little while as you headed down to the kitchen once more.
As you opened the freezer, you prodded one of the ice-packs with your finger. Good enough. Gathering them into your arms, you noticed that you counted seven of them. Perfect. You stopped by Asmo’s first, going in the order you had taken care of them. He was still fast asleep. You removed the bag of frozen veggies you’d used as a last-ditch-effort, replacing it with a fresh ice-pack. Asmo moaned a little in his sleep, but did little more than that. Next was Satan, also resting, although it seemed he had woken up for at least a little while since you came in his room last, the tablet you’d left on his nightstand was now over his chest. Careful not to wake him up, you wrapped the ice-pack in a cloth before trying to tuck it in his sling, placing it over his arm. His eyebrows scrunched but that was all. Levi next. You guessed it, asleep. You settled his ice-pack on the top of his head. He tossed and turned a little at the disturbance, but didn’t open his eyes. You readjusted the pack as it began to slip from its place. Levi sighed aloud probably in relief. Now for the twins.
The entire House was noiseless as its residents continued to slumber. They all looked comfortable, at least as comfortable as they could be. You yawned a bit. What time was it? Was it that late? Or was seeing all of the sins sleep making you tired? You carefully removed Beel’s blanket after you’d entered their room. He woke up at that. “I fell asleep?”
You nodded, giving him a little grin. “Seems like it. Sorry to wake you up. I brought you one of these.” You handed him one of the remaining packs in your possession.
“Thank you.” He settled it where the swelling seemed to be the worst, wincing. “Did you check on the others? Mammon? Lucifer?” When you nodded in silence, he seemed to take the message, although he already knew they weren’t doing great in the first place. He watched you head over to Belphie’s bed, observing you as you lifted Sloth’s head gently, letting him rest on the ice-pack like a little pillow. Belphie muttered something in his sleep, almost reaching out to grab your hand, but missing, his grasp holding tightly to his body-pillow instead. “Have you had time to rest yet?” Beel asked, voicing his concern with a little rumbling groan.
“I will soon,” you assured him, coming back to ruffle the hair on his head. “I gotta finish looking after Lucifer.”
He looked at you with such compassion. “When we feel better, I want to take us all out to eat.”
“I can’t wait.” You pulled the blanket back over him, telling him to return to his rest before you left, circling back around to your room. Probably not the most efficient of paths, but the only one you could seem to follow. Mammon was out like a light, not even a twitch as you rested one of the packs in the middle of his chest. You noticed that the water bottle you brought for him was already completely empty. You’d refill it for him…and perhaps grab Lucifer one as well. “I’m back again,” you announced to the counters and cabinets. Did Beel even visit the kitchen this many times in one day?...Probably. You refilled Mammon’s container and pulled another identical one down for Lucifer. Thank goodness Beel got gifted so many of these for sports sponsorships. Water. Mammon. Dropped off. Back up to Lucifer.
Once you got back to the eldest’s room, you rested for a second against his wall, taking a breather. “Every time something like this happens,” you spoke aloud, knowing Lucifer probably wasn’t listening, “I gain a new respect for you. Taking care of this many people is exhausting.” Placing the water on Lucifer’s nightstand, you sighed, wrapping this last final ice-pack in fabric to keep it from freezing his skin. Now you could stop thinking the word ‘ice-pack’ as it was starting to lose its meaning. Carefully, you approached Lucifer’s side, careful not to touch his outspread wings to place the bundle down along his spine. “Not even the cold will wake you, hm?” You tried looking down at his sleeping features, only to remember that he was completely face-down. “Can you even breathe like that? Honestly, when it comes down to it, you’re just as bad as the rest of your brothers.” Not even mild lectures worked, huh? You reached down, finding his chin, turning his head just enough so his face was partially exposed. His slightly parted lips seemed to breathe in the air a little easier. You brushed his hair away from his closed eyes. “There you go.” Your hand seemed to linger on the side of his face. He was so warm. Almost too warm. “Rest easier now.” Your thumb rubbed at his sharp cheekbone. “Your brothers, your worries, leave them with me.” You got away with pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Return when you are ready, and not a moment sooner, you hear me?...I’ll be back in the morning to check on you.” With that, you figured you had done what you could for the time being. You dropped your touch from him, quietly striding from his room, using the key to lock his door behind you.
Hot…Why were you suddenly so unbelievably hot? You opened your eyes, trying to remember where you had last closed them. Ah, that was right, you had fallen asleep in the living room on one of the couches, not wanting to disturb Mammon’s sleep in your bed. Sure, you could’ve probably used greed’s own bed in return but…that didn’t feel right. However, when you fully opened your eyes, you were confused to find you were in your own room. Had you come here half-asleep or something? Or did… You raised your head, sitting up, or at least trying to sit up. Something, or someone was holding onto you. Actually, as your senses began to clear, multiple someone’s seemed to be keeping you in their grasp. Mammon was where you had left him on your bed, now to your left, holding your wrist in his hand. Belphie was to your direct right, clinging to your side. Beel was somehow right next to his twin, managing to fit himself on the small sliver of mattress that remained. Then there was Levi…curled up over all four of you, sleeping over the covers directly on your legs, wrapped up in the blanket you’d left for him. Satan was propped up against the wall at your feet, Wrath’s legs curled up to leave room for Asmo. The fifth and fourth-born were leaning against each other, keeping each other from falling over, a blanket loosely draped over the both of them. And then there was the eldest…seated in a chair beside the overstuffed bed, leaning forward to keep his back from touching the support of the seat, one of his arms outstretched, resting over both of the twins, his hand somehow managing to find yours in this mess of limbs. When they had gotten here, how they had gotten here, how you had ended up here, you had no clue. They were all asleep again though, still in the process of recovering. You had half a mind to wake all of them up, giving them a stern reminder on what it means to stay in bed!
But no…you couldn’t do that. Not now. You’d let them have this moment, even if you were impossibly warm from all the body heat. Not that you could exactly break free from these demonic binds nor could you carry them back to their rooms. They had all probably come in one-by-one. You chuckled to yourself at the sheer ridiculousness of it, at all of them. “Sleep well, all of you,” you whispered. “Feel better soon.”
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me headcanons#obey me imagines#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me levi#obey me satan#obey me asmo#obey me beel#obey me belphie#tw blood#tw broken bones#tw bruises#tw vomit#tw cuts#tw concussion#tw injury#tw medication
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Sunrise, Crystallize I: to pray to a fallen deity.
Masterlist // Next Chapter
Zhongli x Gn!reader
SFW (there will be nsfw chapters but I will keep them separate so everyone may enjoy.)
Word count: 6.2k
You find yourself seeking solace in the prayers you speak to the god of your new home, despite the fact that he’s passed away. Despite the fact that no one answers, your loneliness seems to be lessened by the warmth of the sunrise. You gain a few new companions, and push through your awkward and nervous disposition to embark on a challenge that you may or may not have little hope of succeeding in.
CW: reader has anxiety, real deep lack of self confidence. Very socially awkward. Reader is a florist, running a greenhouse in the harbour. (Author has absolutely zero florist experience or knowledge, so many apologies.)
Authors note: this is the first chapter of many to come, as Zhongli was my first love in genshin impact. This is kind of self indulgent, because while I really enjoy badass, beautiful, desirable reader inserts who exemplify everything I want to be, part of me really fantasizes about what it might be like to have such a desirable character love me not despite of, but because of my self-perceived flaws. I also think that Zhongli is a wonderful character to explore this dynamic with, as he’s incredibly patient and thoughtful, and having lived for 6000+ years— I can really see him finding someone who is socially his opposite very charming. Anyways, please enjoy this first chapter!
———————
Watching the sun rise on Yujing Terrace had become your most beloved pastime since the death of Rex Lapis. You’d never really ventured up the steps further than Bubu pharmacy, but after everything that happened, you decided to go and pay your respects in a more private setting.
You hadn’t attended the rite of parting. It felt too strange, seeing as you weren’t from Liyue, but you’d lived in the harbor long enough to feel a little twinge of guilt afterwards.
The attack on the harbor had halted your plans, you really hadn’t wanted to venture outside when there was an ancient sea god wreaking havoc in the waters just beyond your home. But once everything was settled, and the novelty of Rex lapis’ passing finally became outshone by recent events, you decided it was time.
You’d spent all evening working in your greenhouse, realizing the night had escaped you only when your eyes barely skimmed across a clock on your way to grab fresh potting soil from your storage room. You’d figured beating the morning rush to the terrace was better for your sanity, and washed your hands before heading out.
The sun had not begun to rise, everything washed in fading starlight as you made your way up the stone stairs. You breathed a sigh of relief when you saw that only the Milileth were occupying the terrace, a few standing guard here and there and a few making their rounds.
One soldier looked at you a bit warily, most likely wondering why you were here so early. But he only nodded politely when you sheepishly showed him your box of incense.
When you made it to the topmost part of the terrace, you lit a singular stick and placed it in the holder. You’d seen people immediately murmuring their prayers after lighting their incense, but you weren’t really sure what to say, so you walked around a bit before standing at the railing facing east over the harbor.
The water looked so peaceful. The sky had started brightening, the first glimmers of the rising sun peeking up from the horizon, casting early shadows along the boats and buildings.
You took a deep breath, pushing your exhale further than normal. Your chest felt strange, You’d never really prayed to anyone before.
“Um…” you fiddled with your hands on the stone railing, watching the sun rise ever so slowly. “I’m sorry I didn’t attend your rite of parting. Crowds are really not my thing.”
You felt too strange to say his name out loud, hoping that wherever the wind took your words would eventually lead to wherever he was resting. Where did gods go when they die?
“I’ve not lived in the harbor long, but I can see why you loved it. Though I have been here long enough to understand the love you must have had for your people, and the love they gave to you in return. Despite that, I feel as though we’re all going to be just fine in your absence.”
You cringed a little, wondering if your words came across too crass or irreverent.
“Ah, well, what I mean to say is you shouldn’t worry.” you chewed on your lip, watching more shadows form along the harbor as the sun grew and grew over the sea, bathing the sky in oranges and pinks.
“Oh, what else do people say when they do this…” you mumbled. “People usually ask for blessings or good fortune, don’t they? I’ve never really understood that. I won’t ask for anything… or is that rude too?” You could never remember the protocol for things like this.
“Maybe I’ll just ask for happiness. If you can send some sense of fulfillment my way, that would be nice. But don’t put yourself out or anything.”
You scoffed at yourself, rolling your eyes as you gazed out at the sea. “Or maybe I should just give my blessing to you. Does anyone do that? Ask for blessings and good fortune for you?”
You shook your head, leaning on the railing and smiling at yourself a bit. It felt like you were talking to yourself, but it wasn’t nearly as embarrassing as you thought.
“Well then, I ask that you rest in peace. You deserve it after the multiple millennia you endured. I can't imagine having to work for that long, sounds exhausting.” You yawned, stretching out your limbs.
It was strange, you felt tired— obviously. Being up all night was not exactly ideal, but standing there, watching the beautiful sun rise over your city, you couldn’t help but feel a warm wash of pure… peace. You felt good. You didn’t feel so alone.
You looked around a bit, still seeing that no one was near you, before looking up half heartedly at the sky.
“Is that you? Is that why people do this sort of thing?” You smiled as the sun finally broke its way from the water, painting the sky in all its glorious colors.
Hmm. Perhaps I should design a new sunrise themed bouquet.
You rubbed the tiredness from your eyes as you made your way back to the stairs, but as you walked through the first archway, your eyes caught sight of the most beautiful man you’d ever seen.
He was standing, holding a cup of tea while he chatted with an elderly woman at her table. The warm, early sunlight bathed him in its amber hues, making the colors of his clothing gleam, and exposing the rich warm tones of his hair.
He was exceptionally tall, that much you could tell, even from so far away. He held himself with such grace and poise that you couldn’t help but stare. He looked like royalty. He looked like he belonged on a throne, not walking amongst the common people.
His smile was small but contagious— you’d pressed a hand over your mouth to hide the fact that you were grinning as he did down at the little old lady in front of him.
The woman chuckled a bit, before turning to the small flower bed behind her, before picking one of the flowers that was growing there.
A glaze lily? They were extremely rare, you knew that for certain. They hardly grew in the wild, which is why you hadn’t bothered to grow them for your shop yet, as you harvested the majority of your seeds by yourself.
He took the delicate flower in his gloved hand, bringing it to his nose and taking what looked like a deep breath. Your heart lurched as his face became almost solemn, but he pushed a smile through and nodded to the woman, saying something you couldn’t hear.
You couldn’t help but watch as he finished his tea, his striking eyes scanning around the terrace. It was a moment too late when you realized his eyes were eventually going to fall on you. You— who was watching him like some sort of lunatic.
His eyes met yours for the briefest of moments, and even from a distance they seemed to burn in the early morning sunshine. You instantly flushed, an embarrassing noise fluttering past your lips as you turned around and hid behind the archway, hoping that it looked like you were just heading back towards the overlook.
You took several deep breaths before you dared peek around the corner again, sighing in relief as you watched the beautiful man make his way down the steps.
That was the single most embarrassing thing I’ve ever done. You thought, before shaking your head as memories of far more embarrassing events flooded your brain. Actually, never mind. That was pretty far down on the list.
You almost thought that perhaps you never wanted to see that man again, for fear of embarrassing yourself once more— but that thought was quickly swept away. It would be a shame never to see him again. He was far too pretty.
———————
it was about a month into your new habit when the elderly woman called out to you.
You were simply making your way back towards the stairs, having only ever greeted her with a polite nod or a rushed “good morning!” Here and there, so you were surprised when she called you over and invited you for tea.
You introduced yourself, and she smiled, pouring you a cup.
“Ah, you’re the young one running that new flower shop, yes?”
You nodded. “Yes ma’am. ‘New beginnings: flowers and things.’ I sell little trinkets and gifts here and there when I collect them on my travels. But mostly it's just my flowers.”
”oh, you little darling. No need to be so formal. You can call me granny if you like— or Ping. Either or.”
Normally you wouldn’t be so formal with someone you’d just met, especially an elder, but there was something about Ping that made you feel so comfortable.
“Alright, Granny.” You smiled.
“Much better. “ she said, taking her seat. “Now why don’t you tell me all about your shop. I was very surprised when I heard that someone had built a little greenhouse in the city.”
And so began your new routine of waking up early to watch the sunrise— talking to yourself under the guise of “praying to Rex Lapis”, and having your morning tea while chatting with Madame Ping.
Ping turned out to be quite the gossip, and you got most of your updates on the comings and goings of the people through her. You learned about her disciples, though you weren’t quite sure what she was a master of. She seemed very wise, having many a tale to tell and advice on things that plagued you.
One morning you brought her a speciality bouquet of Cecelia’s, one of your more popular flowers, and she gushed about how thoughtful you were.
“I hope you don’t mind, I stole one from the bouquet earlier and left it on the overlook as an offering with my incense.” You said, sipping your tea.
“Nonsense, they’re your flowers to begin with, dear. I never would have even known if you hadn’t said something.” She pulls a vase from beneath her table, and pours some water from her nearby jug inside. Ping places the flowers in the vase, fluffing up the greenery to look nice and setting it on the other end of her table.
“There, just beautiful. Thank you my dear.” She says, sitting back down.
”It's really no trouble. They’re some of my last Cecelias, my recent batch of seedlings went bad. I'll have to make a trip to Mondstadt to collect more seeds soon.” You fiddled with the sleeve of your shirt.
“If you need someone to watch over the shop for you while you’re gone, I’m well acquainted with a traveler who is just perfect for odd jobs like that when they have the time.”
“Oh,” you said, looking out at the colors fading from the sky. “That might be nice, I’ve been putting off going out because I’m not too sure who I can trust to watch the greenhouse.”
You were trying hard to hide your wavering tone, but you knew immediately Madam Ping had caught on.
“Is there something else on your mind, dear?” She said, “You know you can talk to me about anything that troubles you.”
You paused, looking around a bit before you took a deep breath. “It’s just…”
Chewing your lip, you sighed at her kindness. You knew better than to be anxious around Ping, but your embarrassment over what you had been doing the last month was eating at you.
“Is it strange that I've been… praying to Rex Lapis every morning, even though he’s no longer with us?”
“Ah,” Ping hummed, her eyes glittering with mirth. “I had been wondering what you do over there before the sun rises. When you said you left a flower as an offering, I thought perhaps you prayed to a lost loved one, but Rex Lapis?”
“I know— it's odd isn’t it? I don’t even know if gods still hear prayers when they pass but—“
“Nonsense.” She interrupted your downward spiral, her tone light to soothe you. “There are plenty of people who still pray to our fallen archon. And I can guarantee you that wherever he is resting— those prayers still make it through to him, and crystal clear at that. He may not be able to descend from the heavens as a magnificent dragon to grant the wishes of his followers anymore, but he will always bear witness to our prayers, of that you can be certain.”
“Oh,” you breathed. You weren’t sure if you believed her, but you didn’t want to seem rude. “Do you think it bothers him? To hear so many people while he is trying to rest?”
“I’m sure the requests for wealth and glory get rather tedious very quickly.” Madame Ping laughs. “But what do you pray to him for?”
You flush, running your finger along your teacup. “I don’t really ask him for anything. I just sort of… tell him about things?” You shrug, feeling rather sheepish.
Ping simply nods, encouraging you to continue.
“I wasn’t really ever certain he could even be listening. It just feels nice to get things off my chest, you know?” You took another sip of tea. “I feel sort of bad, I mainly just vent to him— it’s kind of like chatting with you, granny. Only I say things I might not be comfortable sharing with others.”
Ping hums, staring out over the harbor thoughtfully.
“I’m sure your kind of prayers are the most interesting to him. Perhaps even his favorite.” She says after a few moments.
“Really?” You scrunched up your nose a bit. “I find that sort of hard to believe.”
Ping smiled, and her eyes seemed to glitter with something unknown. She always seemed to be brimming with unobtainable knowledge, it kept you clinging to her every word in hopes of soaking it up.
“It was once said that after so many years of being a god— watching over his people and nation with the weight of thousands of years of history and bloodshed upon his shoulders — that Rex Lapis would don a disguise and wander among his people, to gain a taste of what it was like to be human.” She gathered your empty teacup, placed it on the tray with the rest of the tea set and put it aside. “I think perhaps your prayers would remind him of simpler times, of what it is like to be human.”
You let her words ruminate for a while, watching as the harbor started to wake up— typically your sign to tuck tail and run home.
Finally, you spoke.
“Do you think he enjoyed my flower offering?” You asked.
Ping smiled wide, eyeing her bouquet of Cecelias.
“I think it's a lovely gesture, but he was particularly fond of the glaze lily. Perhaps those— as opposed to the anemo archons favored flower would be more fitting.”
You cringed. You hadn’t even registered that Cecelia’s were known as Barbatos’ favorite flower. After giving yourself a mental scolding, and a reminder to brush up on your international flora guidebook, you hesitantly spoke up once more.
“I’d love to, but I harvest my own seeds, Granny. I wouldn’t even know where to look for wild glaze lilies. Aren’t they extremely rare?”
She pulled a little sack from beneath her table — she always seemed to have whatever she needed right on hand, how curious. — and gently placed it in your hands.
“These are quite old, but I have a feeling if anyone will be able to get them to sprout, it will be you, dear.”
————————————
You weren’t very hopeful.
Seeds, when preserved under the perfect conditions, can last up to ten years. But extremely rare and delicate flower seeds tucked in a sack under Madam Pings table?
You started small; putting six seeds into six little nursery pots, and diligently reading up on the proper humidity, soil, nutrients and water required for glaze lilies. Within the week, small little green shoots were poking through the soil, and you nearly jumped for joy.
The revelry was short lived when the following week you entered the nursery to find six shriveled up, sad, and very dead plants. You cussed under your breath as you stomped around your greenhouse, reading through your glaze lily guide and wondering what went wrong.
You had plenty of seeds, plenty of room for trial and error.
You just did not expect the trial and error to last several months.
It was the morning after you found your most recent batch absolutely ruined. The humidity or the hydration levels were off, they had to be. What other reason would they have turned to mush for? You’d abandoned the guidebook long ago, it was a lying liar who killed your plants before they even budded.
“It’s just so frustrating, you know?” You said, leaning against the railing of the overlook. “I feel like if I can't do this, then my entire life as a florist has been for nothing.”
There was no response, but you sort of enjoyed that. You still weren’t sure if you entirely believed Madam Ping when she said that the archon could still hear you, but you’d never stopped your ranting and rambling to him either way.
“I know, I know. I’m being dramatic.” You flicked a pebble off the railing, watching as it tumbled down into the trees below. “This started out as me just wanting to give you a proper offering, one that you’d like. But now it feels like something I’m meant to do. If I can find a way to make Glaze Lilies more prosperous in Liyue again, I feel as though that would be a much better gift in your honor— as opposed to just… sitting one on the terrace to get stolen or blown away in the wind.”
Still no answer, but once again you were enveloped by that warm and lustrous feeling of peace as the sun rose over the water. Perhaps you were becoming addicted to this feeling. You certainly would not feel as ready to get through another day without it.
You gave a deep sigh, thinking long and hard before you decided it was time to ask for help.
“Granny?” You said as you made your way to her table. “Do you know anyone who has information on how Glaze Lilies were cultivated in the past?”
——————————
You were absolutely filthy.
Your knees were coated in dirt, wet soil clinging to your arms where your gloves didn’t cover. You were nearly certain your hair was a complete disaster.
None of that mattered. Your other plants were thriving, your shop was freshly stocked with premade bouquets and trimmed flowers for custom bouquets. You just unloaded your shipment of silk ribbons and wrapping paper, and were now nearly elbow deep in buckets of potting soil for your Mourning flowers.
They required a specific blend of nutrients and earth in comparison to your other flowers, and with your newest batch almost ready to trim, you needed to get a move on with the new growth before they all sold out.
You had just finished the mixing when the bell on the front door of your shop jingled.
“Just a moment, I’ll be right with you!” You yelled out.
The greenhouse was built connected to the shop which housed your little apartment on the second floor.
Everything was relatively close, so you often worked in the greenhouse during the slow hours. And that damned bell was so loud, though you supposed it had to be, otherwise you could run the risk of people sneaking in and taking what they’d like. Now, you didn’t think that was likely to happen, but it never hurt to be cautious.
You tossed your gloves onto the nearby counter and washed your hands with the bulle fruit scented soap by the sink.
You took off your dirty apron to exchange it for the clean shop apron. It helps to look somewhat put together when greeting customers.
You wiped your damp hands along the sides of the apron as you finished tying the knot, rounding the corner into the shop.
“How can I help you today?” You said, making your way to the front counter and pausing to make sure your bags were stocked in case they were purchasing something.
“I was told by a friend that you were in need of some information on historic flora cultivation?” The mans voice was deep, with a delicious rasp about it that had you wondering exactly what kind of man had a voice so alluring.
You looked up finally, trying to peek through the shelving as he walked along, only to catch glimpses of rich, warm browns. Curse you for stocking your flower bins so damn full.
You caught sight of warm brown hair, the morning sun gleaming in the windows to catch along the amber hues scattered throughout.
Your heart lurched as he turned the corner, watching as his eyes scanned the walls lining your shop— decorated with plants and trinkets, little baubles glimmering in the sunlight.
The face of quiet admiration he gave as he looked at the flowers might’ve buckled your knees if not for the realization that this was the man you had seen Madam Ping speaking to— that day.
This was that man. The man who may or may not have haunted your dreams for weeks after you saw him. You had wanted to ask Ping who he was, but you were so incredibly embarrassed about the whole situation. Now here he was, standing in your shop as you wondered if this was insanely good luck, or insanely bad luck.
“Ah, yes. Gran— I mean, Madame Ping said you might be around today.” You introduced yourself, welcoming him to your store as you tried to keep your voice level.
“It’s a pleasure,” the man said, giving a slight bow. “My name is Zhongli, I currently work at wangsheng funeral parlor as a consultant, but in my spare time I am somewhat of a historian, among other things.”
”It's lovely to meet you, Zhongli.” You wrung your hands together, unsure whether you should look him in the eye or not. They were so startling, so liquid gold it was difficult to hold their gaze.
He simply smiled softly. “I am at your service. Would you perhaps be willing to show me what you’ve been working on?”
As his gaze traveled across you, awaiting your response, but you suddenly became very aware of your current appearance. Surely any minuscule chance you had with this man flew out the window the moment he saw your disastrous hair and dirt scuffed knees.
Not that you thought you really had a chance with him to begin with, but it doesn’t hurt to dream big, right?
“Ah, yes. Of course.” You said, gesturing towards the back entrance to the greenhouse. “Right this way.”
He followed closely as you made your way back. His eyes roamed the expanse of your greenhouse in what looked like appreciation, and he nodded encouragingly at you when you paused to watch his reaction.
“This is quite impressive.”
Feeling your face heat up, you turned to remove your shop apron and threw your dirty one back around your waist with unsteady hands.
“It’s nothing really, I just figured that I should turn my hobby into a source of income, and well…” you hoped he didn’t notice your slight cringe as you donned your gloves once again. “I have a lot of free time on my hands.”
“Such dedication is nothing to shrug off so casually.” He walked around, his eyes catching the latest batch of little failures and he stood in front of them, leaning in close as if to inspect their misery in finer detail.
“These are the lilies?” He said, eyeing the drooping sprouts.
“Yes.” You sighed, coming to stand beside him. You were anxious, sure. But your greenhouse was your safe space. You ruled this kingdom, he was just a guest here. A well dressed, knowledgeable and extremely attractive guest, but you had to convince yourself that everything was fine. If you remained calm and collected, everything would be fine.
Fake it ‘til you make it— or however the saying goes.
“They either shrivel up and dry out, or they take in too much moisture and rot. I had a guidebook, but it was about as helpful as a catalyst in a crystal mine.”
You nearly gaped at him as he let a little chuckle fall from his lips, but he cut it off with a rough clearing of his throat, continuing to look at the plants.
“Hm, well. Let us take a look at the book. I can revise any incorrect information, and we can work from there, yes?”
Nodding, you turn to dig the accursed book from its time out in the pile of shame. (A pile of useless guidebooks that carried misinformation, or were just overall genuinely bad. However terrible they may be, you’d spend decent money on them and refuse to get rid of any of your books. Hence the creation of the pile of shame.)
Handing it to him, you move to start clearing the ruined plants from their nursery pots. You tried not to watch him as he flipped through the book, only allowing yourself little glances from the corner of your eye as you cleaned up. When you were finished, you lined up fresh nursery pots and flicked at a loose thread on the bag of seeds.
“Surprisingly, there are only a few minor discrepancies in this guide. Overall, it seems to be alright, however there is one glaringly obvious detail that has been completely missed.” Zhongli spoke behind you.
“Oh?” You turned, leaning against your countertop as you waited for him to elaborate.
“In order to successfully grow Glaze Lilies, you must sing to them.”
Your brow scrunched in confusion. “Excuse me?”
The corners of his lips tilted up, and you flushed at the attitude leaking from your tone in such a casual manner. You’d only just met this man, and he was being extremely professional and kind in helping you with this matter. Where were your manners?
Zhongli however, seemed unbothered by your casual display, and simply continued on.
“I’ll make the necessary notations here, to correct the minor discrepancies, but the main focus should be — that after the first sign of sprouting — you need to sing to them at least once daily for them to continue growing properly.”
You crossed your arms and looked at him through a furrowed brow.
“You’re not just making fun of me, are you? Because if this is some kind of practical joke, I don't find it very amusing.”
Zhongli smiled warmly, closing the book and leaning quite casually against the opposite countertop, his liquid gold eyes glittering with amusement, but it didn’t seem like the kind that was at your expense.
“I can assure you, I would never jest about something so important, nor would I play any kind of practical joke at your expense. I am simply sharing in my knowledge, hoping to help you in your desires, however I can.”
You felt your heart fluttering, and you attempted to steady your breath. “Alright. I’m sorry, I just…” how could you tell him you weren’t used to people being so sincere? How could you explain that you weren’t used to such kindness without seeming pathetic?
“Please do not worry yourself,” he said, stepping closer. He gestured to the small starting pots behind you. “Shall we get started?”
—————-
“—And now he’s spent the last two weeks dropping by after the parlor closes every day and just— hangs out in the greenhouse while I work? I mean, his help with starting up the lilies was wonderful, but now it’s just about keeping the right moisture levels and singing to them every night, which I refuse to do while he’s there, because I’m not up for embarrassing myself in front of the literal most gorgeous man alive, thank you.”
Your voice carried a little louder than usual, but by now the Milileth knew your routine, and hardly even batted an eye if they heard you speaking to yourself.
The sun hadn’t started to rise yet, you’d gotten to the terrace early, early enough that the lanterns were still lit, illuminating the darkened path up those torturous stairs.
“And he’s so polite? I don’t know how to act around him, he’s always giving such genuine sounding compliments, asking me questions while I work, helping me with little things. Surely a man like that has better things to do with his time?” You huffed, that creeping sense of self loathing wrapping around your shoulders like an old blanket, scratchy and rough, but oh so familiar.
“He’s so beautiful, and intellectual. He’s literally a walking historical archive and I could honestly listen to him talk for hours— But in comparison, I’m just… I’m just a little girl who plays around with dirt and flowers. I really don’t understand why he keeps hanging around.”
You scrunched your nose as the sun started to spill those beautiful colors across the sky.
“Do you think Madame Ping asked him to keep coming around? I know she thinks I'm lonely, but I don't need her to bribe a grown man into being my friend.”
You shook your head, rolling your eyes. “No, I can't see her taking it that far. I just… I really don’t see why he would want to be around me.”
That warm feeling started to envelop you, and you took a deep breath to soak it in. “I know… I have a lot of self worth issues. It’s not like I've asked him why he’s hanging around, I just kind of… let him. Maybe I can work up the courage to ask him why he’s so interested. He probably only wants to see if I can actually manage to grow those flowers.”
You rubbed the lingering sleep from your eyes and lingered a bit longer than usual, wondering what Rex Lapis would think about Mr. Zhongli.
——————————
Around the 3 month mark, when things started looking promising, you developed another new habit.
Instead of spending a dedicated section of time at night standing awkwardly and singing to your newly budded plants, you decided it would save time and effort to just sing away while you do your evening chores in the greenhouse.
You wouldn’t go out on a limb and say that your other plants were magically affected by your singing, but like your lilies, everything in the greenhouse seemed just a bit more vibrant as you did so.
You checked the clock, chewing your lip as you scolded yourself for missing Zhongli’s presence.
About a week ago, he’d stopped by to say that he was taking a leave of absence to go on a trip with a friend of his. He’d introduced the traveler and their strange floating companion to you before they headed off.
“I’ll only be gone for a week, maybe more, but I truly look forward to seeing the progress when I return.”
You’d sort of settled into the strange routine of greeting him in the evenings, making the odd pot of tea while he spoke about anything under the sun, entertaining you while you worked. It felt strange to not have him here, but you knew you couldn’t get too attached. When the lilies bloomed, he would most certainly lose interest, and you’d have to go back to your regular routine of lonely nights.
Your heart felt a bit somber as you hauled a few buckets of mulch along, not really focusing on your surroundings, just zoning out while you sang random tunes to help your lilies grow.
You remember a song you’d heard your grandmother sing a long time ago, a distant memory, but the melody was still so vibrant in your mind.
“Eyes shining like the sunrise,
Ever deeper than the night sky,
Nature sweet, like faun and flora,
More valuable than jade or mora,
Take me me there, safe from harm,
Safe at home, in your arms.
nature's bounty he—“
Your voice caught in your throat as you turned to grab the next bucket only to find Zhongli standing silently in the doorway, eyes nearly glowing in the lantern light.
You jumped, and you were sure if you had something in your hands, it would’ve flown out of them, most likely spilling all over you— embarrassing you even further.
“Zhongli?!” You yelped, throwing a hand over your pounding heart. “I didn’t hear you come in! You nearly gave me a heart attack.”
He chuckled, a warm sound you’d grown so fond of hearing. “I did not intend to startle you. Though I am surprised you did not hear me, considering how you’re always on about how loud that bell is.”
“Yes, well,” your face grew so extremely warm, you pulled off your gloves and shoved them in your apron pocket, kicking a foot on the flooring of your greenhouse. ”I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here tonight, so I suppose I let myself get too carried away.”
“I wouldn’t say you were too carried away.” His eyes were sparkling, his smile deeper than you think you’d ever seen it before.
“Wha— are you teasing me? I thought you said you wouldn’t—“ he cut off your rambling with a simple murmuring of your name, nodding to the countertop behind you.
Confused, you turned, and in the moonlight streaming in through exposed glass sat six perfect glaze lilies, fully bloomed.
You walked towards them in awe, feeling Zhongli’s presence not far behind.
“I…” you stared at them, eyes wide and mouth nearly hanging open. “I can’t believe…”
You were hopeful, of course you were. But a part of you genuinely expected to come in one day and find them dead, destroyed like the others. You had wanted this so badly, but after months of failure, you had lost your confidence. But there, sat in front of you in their little pots, sat six perfect fully grown glaze lilies.
“I did it.” You mumbled, turning around to face Zhongli. Your heart felt like it was bursting in your chest. You jumped, barely able to contain your joy as you shrieked.
“I did it!” You excitedly danced around, pumping your fists in the air and whooping, in total bliss at your accomplishment.
“You did it.” Zhongli simply said, smiling down at you.
“We did it!” You yelled, your joy uncontainable. Without thinking, you threw yourself at him, giggling as he caught you effortlessly, spinning you around as you wrapped your arms around his neck.
He smelled like amber, like the forest and the mountain air, crisp and pure and addicting. You took another deep breath before you realized what exactly you were doing.
You quickly pushed yourself away, backing up with a squeaking “sorry!” Only in your embarrassment, you completely lost your bearings, immediately tripping backwards on a stack of potting soil sacks and tumbling down.
You tried to catch yourself on the side counter, but only succeeded in grabbing hold of a stack of books you’d been meaning to relocate, the pile of shame.
Perhaps it was your karma for naming it such, perhaps it was irony, but the pile of shame merely tumbled down along with you, spilling onto your head with a terrible series of audible smacking sounds to accompany your little cries of pain.
“Oh!” In Zhongli’s defense, he really had tried to catch you, but you supposed when you pushed away, you must have shoved him a bit farther back as well, and he was merely seconds too late from grabbing your arm to steady you.
You sat in your embarrassment, letting a loose book stay where it landed, covering your face.
“Are you alright?” Zhongli said, his voice filled with genuine concern.
“Can you pretend like the last five minutes never happened?” You said, cringing beneath the pages of an extremely outdated copy of Flowers in Food: recipes for your floral tastes.
“Unfortunately, my dear,” Zhongli began removing the book from your face, peeking down at your reddened cheeks beneath the pages. “I have the pleasure of having an impeccable memory.”
“I had a feeling you’d say something like that.” You grumbled.
You began peeling books off yourself, face warm as you wondered how you were going to get out of this one.
“You did not need to apologize, though.” Zhongli said, crouching down to help you. “I am more than comfortable sharing in your excitement at such an accomplishment.”
Your heart fluttered, and your face heated for entirely different reasons. Maybe it was okay that you’d hugged him? As much as you want to think he’s always teasing you, he has never once lied about how he’s felt about anything.
“Oh.” You said, peeling away the last couple books. “Well then, I’m sorry for pushing away so abruptly, and uh… that you had to see all that.”
He smiled, shaking his head as if he was going to tell you something more, when his eyes seemed to catch something along your torso.
You looked down, and under the last book you’d pulled off your stomach sat a little glowing orb, about the size of your palm.
Its warm amber light glowed against the fabric of your shirt, and you looked just as shocked at Zhongli for a moment.
But his face steadied, and he smiled down at you. “It seems that your perseverance has been recognized in the highest regard.”
You gapped down at the geo vision sitting on your stomach.
“I… what?”
—————————
AN: what did you think? Please let me know in the comments/tags/askbox! Also feel free to send in ideas for some dynamics you’d enjoy seeing between these two, as I have a vague idea of where the story will go, but its not entirely concrete yet!
- from Pidge, with love <3
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact Zhongli#Zhongli#Zhongli x reader#zhongli x gn reader#gn reader#Zhongli fluff#genshin impact fluff#rex lapis#morax#madame ping#🌻🐉
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Thanks for stopping by~ ♡
If you would like to learn more about me, my content, or my request guidelines, please open this post.
I post fake texts, reactions, drabbles, and full fics (anywhere between 1500 and 6000 words). My texts are most commonly split between Hyung Line and Maknae Line, and they can vary quite a bit on how raunchy they are.
I'm very kink friendly and have been an active member of the bdsm community for 5+ years so I do not shy away from the vast majority of kinks, but they will always be written as realistically as possible. This means if you request heavier kinks or kinks that are on the deeper end of safety risks, I will do my best to write negotiation and consent checks into the story. I know we all love heavy fantasy content, but I personally will not write themes that imply any character is doing something against their own free will. I WILL, however, consider writing heavier themes if it is an idea that really sparks my interest.
I do not write anything involving character death or heavy angst, but I will write things along the lines of Yandere themes and criminal acts. Anything that does not involve the reader or main character being unwilling or having violent acts committed against them is fair game.
I do not write for ships, but I will write certain points of mxm interaction if it benefits the story (such as threesomes etc.)
I am VERY enthusiastic about fantasy creatures and will HAPPILY write your kinky werewolf fanfic if you ask nicely! I also won't shy away from A/B/O dynamics if you're so inclined... or hybrids. I love me some hybrids.
If you're unsure about whether I'd be willing to write your request, please take a look at my list below of wills and wonts. If you don't see what you want on there, shoot me a message or an ask.
Ult group: Stray Kids
Bias: ♡♡Changbin♡♡
Wrecker: Seungmin
Personality: I have been described as Spicy, Witty and Dog Coded. I love deeply and aggressively and usually communicate that through being cheeky, flirty and a little bit of a bully to the people I'm giving affection too.
Personal Account: @bunniebinnie for kpop, @bunniedreams for the uhhhh horny kinky stuff
Favourite Song now: Last Breath - Mark Tuan
Favourite Colour: Pastel Yellow (true yellow, not the orange or green tinted yellows)
Favourite Book: Ultraviolet
Hobbies: writing, photography, collecting plush toys, gaming, drawing
Age: 25 years old
For the astrology hotties: Libra sun, Aquarius moon, Pisces rising
Pet peeve: The sound of chewing gum
How long have I been writing: I have been writing fanfic for about 7 years. I had 2 old blogs, one dedicated to nct and one for stray kids, but I chose to start over after an extended hiatus (moving, work, life).
You may recognise some of the content here, and if you do, please feel free to ask. I will never copy another persons work, but I may repost some of my old work that I enjoyed with some edits.
Do you write cnc?
A: Depends on the context, but generally, I will say yes as long as there is no violence (oitside of impact play) and I can write it with negotiation and context.
Is your favourite content to write?
A: I really like doing drabbles and anything Hybrid related. I love hybrids. Have I mentioned that I love hybrids¿
Do you only write Sub Reader?
A: Nope! I'm a switch through and through so I will write whatever role the people are interested in!
Do our request have to have kink in them?
A: Not at all! I love wholesome vanilla content just as much as the messed up spicy stuff.
How do we send requests?
A: Just jump into my ask box and ramble your idea to me. You can be as detailed or vague as you want, but please include if you want it to be written without the use of pronouns!
Why do you add banners to everything?
A: I just think they're fun! I like my cute lil doodles.
Do you have any other blogs?
A: ooft, quite a few! @thefantasydenarchives for all my asks and polls, etc so I can keep this blog somewhat organised, @bunniebinnie is for my kpop fic recs and anything else kpop related, @markmein for my NCT content (needs work) and @bunniedreams for my personal stuff
Will write:
Edge play kinks, fictional creatures (hybrids, werewolves, ghosts), ot8 scenarios, threesomes and anything above a threesome, dubious consent, unhinged member x reader, violence NOT committed against reader, ftm reader, marijuana use.
Will not write:
Pregnant reader, lactation kink, barely legal, high school, young reader x much older member and vice versa, dad stray kids, parent reader, hard drug use, violence against reader, character death, heavy angst, cheating.
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The Pretty Average Trump Trauma
I really picked the wrong week to have a controversial post go viral.
The appeal deadline for my disability case is very soon and we just recently got the last of the medical records. My lawyer can get very busy and hard to reach. And I have been freaking out trying to get a hold of him to make sure everything is ready to be submitted. Thankfully he just emailed and said everything is on track and will be sent in for the appeal.
But having this weighing on me behind the scenes while also dealing with the blowback from my "vote for Biden" post caused me to enter into some unhealthy arguments and lose my temper on several occasions.
I didn't actually think about what would happen if that post went viral. Sometimes I write things and a hundred people see it, and it serves as a catharsis because I was able to get my thoughts and fears out of my brain.
And sometimes it gets reblogged 6000 times and I can forget I have a platform where that happens from time to time.
I wish I had written a better initial post. I think my thoughts in subsequent posts, along with the inclusion of what I think is a better strategy, would have gone a long way to help people understand my point of view. Looking back, that original post feels incomplete.
The post that ended up going viral was not inspired by reason or logic and it was never really meant to convince anyone of anything.
I thought I was preaching to the choir.
It was a representation of my fears. It was the result of two years of panic and trauma from the pandemic which ended in my mother's horrible death.
Let me explain...
On November 9th, Shaun, a YouTuber I respect, posted this.
And it scared the hell out of me.
A very popular leftist with a huge platform wrote this to 5 million people and I freaked out.
Shaun wasn't necessarily saying not to vote for Biden at the time. But he thinks people should all say they won't vote for him unless he calls for a ceasefire. I get the strategy. But I feared that nuance would be lost on many people and they would only see it as "don't vote for Biden... no matter what." Which was an accurate prediction on my part. The guy from Eve 6 has been going nuance-free for weeks now.
The one thing I greatly disagree with Shaun about is this...
Before the pandemic, I might have understood his argument. For the first two years, Trump was mostly an ineffectual goof. He had trouble getting a lot of his worst ideas to manifest. Most of the border wall he built ended up being repairs of existing barriers. And Obama droned civilians and kept kids in cages too—though Trump kept them in cages indefinitely and made up a rule that we can't actually know how many civilians he was droning.
So, a lot of the same, but turned up to 11.
But nothing about the pandemic response was pretty average.
There is something I have been choosing not to say during all of these discussions. I felt like saying it would be poor timing. I was worried people wouldn't actually agree with me. I worried it would make people think I was turning suffering into a competition. I didn't want to make it look like I valued certain lives over others. But then people accused me of all of that anyway. I was called evil and a collaborator and a supporter of genocide.
So I'm going to talk about it. Because the fact that few have mentioned it in these discussions has been bothering me. And the fact that the majority of society does not mention it makes me feel very alone in this belief.
I have long believed Trump and the majority of US conservatives committed a genocide of the disabled and elderly. I was never really comfortable calling it that word. I wasn't really sure how a genocide got classified as such. So I would just say things like, "40% of people who died during COVID should still be alive" and "Trump is responsible for hundreds of thousands of COVID deaths" and "Trump killed my mom" and hoping people would make the connection or at least see it as mass murder. I mean, this country judges everything by how many "9/11s" something is, but not the pandemic?
Donald Trump was the leader of the Republican party. When he refused to wear a mask due to vanity, his followers looked for something to excuse him. And I feel that directly birthed the "masks don't work" movement among conservatives. Donald Trump, having enormous influence among his acolytes, refused to correct this dangerous rhetoric. And he probably welcomed the cover so he could continue going maskless and not smear his makeup—even after he nearly died.
It is my belief this was the beginning of a genocide of apathy, deliberate and accidental incompetence, and non-compliance. And the reason for that non-compliance was not freedom as many claimed.
Conservatives did not like being inconvenienced.
They didn't like having to consider others.
And if competence requires effort and vigilance, they'd prefer doing the bare minimum.
Trump was famous for not filling vital administrative positions in the executive branch. Not only that, his turnover rate was 5 times higher than previous administrations. People were asked to do the job of several people because they didn't staff properly, and so those people quit. Thus creating a cycle of inexperienced new-hires that were out of their depth and asked to do much more than they bargained for. There is no way they could succeed in their jobs.
I think people forget that part of the role of the executive is the day-to-day boring administrative shit that is required to run a country. And when this day-to-day work isn't valued, it creates a crisis of incompetence. Which then creates things like not enough tests, not enough testing, Trump saying "if you don't test, it doesn't count", botched vaccine rollouts, rampant misinformation, poor education of the populace, and abysmal improvised press conferences where the President does a quick riff on injecting bleach.
This competence aspect is one of the hugest reliefs I had with the Biden administration. Not Biden. Not his policies. I'm talking about the regular workers getting shit done. This is the reason I am desperate to get my shit worked out with Social Security before the election. I once called Social Security during the pandemic and I literally got a recording saying to try calling back the next month.
Trump didn't care. People criticized him for not hiring people. He was aware of the problem. He just did nothing about it. And many conservatives praised him for "trimming the fat" or whatever. This idea that all of these government workers were useless burdens on the taxpayer fell apart during the pandemic.
There is incompetence caused by ignorance but it can also be a deliberate act. Trump was extraordinary in all forms of incompetence. He wasn't qualified to manage a pandemic. But he could have easily appointed experts and then gotten out of the way. But his narcissism would not let him cede power to anyone. He has always been convinced "only Trump can save you" and so his ego helped kill nearly half a million people.
Once the incompetence ball got rolling, that's when malicious apathy reared its ugly head. It was time to choose who they cared least about dying—who they felt was most useless. Conservatives decided it was time to devalue lives and start making sacrifices to save politicians' money laundering fronts small businesses.
Popular conservatives were going on TV and saying it was okay if Grandma died. It would be a worthy sacrifice to protect our freedoms.
The Lt. Governor of Texas, Dan Patrick, basically offered up the elderly for sacrifice all while claiming that he spoke for them and was also willing to die. Though I don't take his personal willingness very seriously, since he has the money and resources to get the best medical care and probably had no expectation he was in any danger.
“No one reached out to me and said, ‘As a senior citizen, are you willing to take a chance on your survival in exchange for keeping the America that all America loves for your children and grandchildren?’ But if they had? If that is the exchange, I’m all in. So my message is let’s get back to work. Those of us who are 70-plus, we’ll take care of ourselves.”
But you cannot just sacrifice the elderly. You may justify it by saying they have lived a long life, but many of the same health risks were shared by the disabled. Many of whom still had normal lifespans, but just needed extra care and protection.
There are countless elderly who cannot "take care of themselves" but they are still of value to our society. They are still loved. They watch and teach their grandchildren. They are the keepers of the family stories. They bake cookies and give you two dollar bills. They have random bowls of butterscotch all throughout their house.
But some need help. Some are sick. Some can't drive. Some can't walk. I guarantee not all of them were prepared to die for the cause.
And none deserved to die for a sports bar.
Oh, didn't I mention?
Dan Patrick owned a chain of sports bars that were losing money from the lockdowns. Did you really think he was sacrificing old folks "for the children"?
Thankfully Dan's sports bars are gonna be okay. He ended up receiving a $179,000 PPP loan... that was forgiven.
Then they started saying COVID deaths weren't COVID deaths.
"Well, they had a bad heart."
"They were obese."
"They had cancer."
They dropped the elderly excuse and began to openly devalue the disabled as well. If you were sick, what good were you? They considered us the next sacrifices for their convenience. If we wanted to survive, we shouldn't have gotten sick. It didn't matter that we could survive for years or even have a normal lifespan as long as we were protected by our communities.
And then began the non-compliance.
Trump's followers ignored masks and lockdowns and eventually vaccines. They were unwilling to protect the vulnerable and so many of us just... died.
Again, 40% of the US COVID deaths could have been prevented. Hundreds of thousands of people should still be here. Malicious apathy, incompetence, and non-compliance were the direct cause of this genocide.
The United Nations Genocide Convention identified 5 acts that typically constitute genocide. Only one act is required and in the pandemic 3 of the 5 acts happened.
Killing members of a group.
Causing members of a group serious bodily harm.
Imposing living conditions on that group that would destroy them.
I'm looking at that third one just now and realizing why we have advocates to remind us of vulnerable groups that need protection. I was thinking about how the elderly and disabled were trapped in hyper-contagious nursing homes and care facilities, but I completely forgot about prisons and the concentration camps at the borders.
I am not trying to diminish the awful things happening in Palestine right now. This is not a comparison of suffering—but a reminder. When a current terrible thing is happening, it can be hard to focus on anything else. But I do wish more people recognized what happened as a genocide and that the leader of that genocide, the one with the power to stop it, was Donald Trump. If we are going to base this voting decision entirely on acts of genocide, why is this not part of the consideration?
It is an awful moral calculus we have to figure out. One president is supporting and asking for funding for a genocide and I feel the other was the direct cause of another genocide. That's why I said both choices sucked. And the only way I could resolve this moral calculation was by asking what path would cause the least harm for everyone involved.
And the most disappointing aspect of all of these debates was the ableism. People told me if Trump was elected and I lost my benefits I should grow my own food and learn about medicine. They said I valued disabled lives above those in Gaza. They told me to imagine myself in Nazi Germany as a collaborator despite the fact I would have been euthanized.
But I felt like they weren't considering the disabled at all.
I am a disability advocate. So of course I am going to remind people to consider us in their voting decisions. But I'm tired of hearing I value lives differently just because I speak on behalf of a vulnerable group more often. I'm tired of continually having to justify my existence. And I'm tired of people dismissing the very real trauma caused by Trump.
It was not pretty average.
I'd like to tell you the full story of my mother's passing. All of the details. Even the ones I can't bear to type. But this isn't just my story. This is the story of countless others who had to watch their loved ones slowly die behind glass or over the phone or on an iPad.
I spent two years in constant anxiety trying to protect my two very sick parents. It was always assumed that my father was the most at risk. And that he was probably going to die long before my mother. But she had started a treatment for her psoriatic arthritis that turned the volume down on her immune system. Something that would normally not be a huge risk... but a pandemic changed that. A vaccine needs a functioning immune system to protect someone.
She could either accept the agony of stopping treatment or risk getting COVID. If people would have been willing to protect her, it would have been an easier choice. And she would still be around today. And I wouldn't have to worry about being homeless right now.
I don't know for sure when she was infected. I kept her inside as much as possible. But she needed those treatments and we had to pile into a crowded waiting room every time. And I remember a man in his fifties who seemed preoccupied with having to wear a mask. And when he thought no one was looking, he'd pull it down below his nose. A few days later she was being taken away in an ambulance.
A few weeks before my mother died, she called me on the phone. She was heavily medicated and they had two different breathing devices assisting her. The nurse was holding the phone up to her ear and she was trying to speak over the volume of the air rushing into her face from the masks. I could not hear her no matter how loud she yelled. So she asked the nurse to take the masks off for just a second so we could talk.
Her only concern was for my father. We all contracted COVID and she was so worried he would end up just like her. Thankfully the vaccine worked for him and he was okay at that moment. But she kept yelling, "Is Dad okay? Is Dad okay?" And I kept trying to tell her he was fine, but she was hard of hearing and the phone could not be held very close to her ear.
Unfortunately, the yelling made it harder and harder for her to breathe. She started gasping for air. The nurse kept insisting she put the breathing equipment back on, but my mom refused. "I want to talk to my son! I need to talk to my son!"
I knew there wasn't much we could do to communicate. And so I kept trying to yell "I love you, Mom. Everyone is fine. I love you!" I then asked the nurse to tell her that. And when she finally understood what I was saying, she burst into tears.
Her oxygen levels were getting dangerously low and she was fighting the nurse. And she just yelled out, "I'm so scared! I think I'm going to die! Tell Dad I'm sorry I can't take care of him! I don't want to die!" She kept repeating that over and over. The nurse had no choice and had to put the masks back on. My mom screamed and shouted "No! Please no! That's my son!"
And those were the last words I ever heard from my mother.
Gasping for air. Scared of dying. Worried about her family.
This moment has intrusively popped into my brain on a regular basis since it happened. It happens when I'm awake. It happens in my dreams. I have no control over it. I just have to keep experiencing it like it is happening for the first time.
After I saw that tweet from Shaun and then many others expressing the same thing (without the strategic aspect), my dread and trauma resurfaced with a vengeance. I've been reliving my mom's final words in my dreams. That moment keeps popping into my head. I feared the man I feel is most responsible for my mother's death may regain power and kill me and the last of the family I have left.
I keep asking myself the same questions over and over. What if there is another public health emergency? What happens to my trans friends if he turns the US into Florida and Texas? What will happen to the migrants at the border?
All I have is my two best friends.
Katrina is gay and Delling is trans and disabled.
All of us are vulnerable.
I wrote that post to help deal with the nightmares. Writing is part of my coping process. I didn't really expect it to go super viral. I just needed to get that out of my brain. But when people pushed back and started calling me evil and a collaborator and that I was valuing my life above those in Palestine, all with a huge heap of ableism, I found myself unable to let it go and not respond. I couldn't choose the healthy thing and step away.
While I feel I made some good arguments and put forth some solid ideas for other ways to handle this, I also got angry and lost my temper and stayed in arguments for way too long—all to my mental detriment.
My little world felt like it was collapsing and the world at large also felt like it was collapsing. I had personal horrors in my mind mixing with the horrors of this global conflict.
It was too much.
I don't regret what I posted. Many felt the same as I do. And I think my subsequent posts did a good job of expanding on my thoughts while also offering hope for alternate solutions.
But I do regret the timing and I wish I hadn't lost my temper. Especially in a reply I left with a lot of cussing.
People might disagree but I am hoping that people can understand the fear and trauma that influences my point of view.
I am actually willing to risk quite a lot to protect other people. Even people in faraway lands I don't know.
But I refuse to offer up the vulnerable to be sacrificed if it won't actually help anyone. That's what a Texas Lt. Governor would do.
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It's a long night - PJM and KNJ
Pairing: Ceo!Namjoon X female Reader X Ceo!Jimin
Word count: 2.3k words
Warnings: SMUT. threesome. Dom jimin. Switch Namjoon. Sub reader. Fingering. Oral (f receiving). Slight orgasm delay. Unprotected Penetrative sex (don't please?). Jimin is a menace. Namjoon cries (it's purely out of pleasure, guys). MATURE. 18+
masterlist
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The moment you entered the hotel suite with heels clacking and stumbling feet, you were instantly sandwiched between a wall and the bigger, taller male that so deviously wanted to devour you. Meanhile jimin snickers over how Namjoon desperately pants in your mouth, locking the door on his way inside.
No matter how sober you are, you feel the lust rush up to your head making your mind fuzzy. While you grab his collar with one hand and his neck with the other, he pulls down the straps of your dress and hikes up your skirt, squeezing whatever flesh he could grab.
You feel his fingers snake their way from your thighs to your head, making the satin material bunch up at your hips. He pulls your hair occasionally, making you moan in his mouth. You feel his head being pulled at and you open your eyes to see Jimin holding his hair and pulling his head back. Whispering something in his ears, he makes eye contact with you as he bites Joon’s earlobe making you both moan.
Jimin has been teasing you since the evening, the small but wet kisses and the intense stares. He came into your dressing room while you were almost ready, bent you in front of a mirror, and rubbed you as you helplessly begged him to get his fingers inside.
Worst part? He didn't make you cum.
Since then, every touch of his was making you go mental, him grabbing your inner thighs with his thick fingers under the table. So close but so far.
He made you weak in the knees, almost made you ready to suck him off in the car but he was just testing your patience. He was all dressed up in his black $6000 suit and yet you wanted to just get him out of it.
Also, Namjoon being there in his all-black outfit didn't do you very well. Especially when he took off his blazer and covered you up with it because your wrap-on was not enough to keep the chills away.
He didn't realize but you kept on staring at how his muscles bulged at every movement of his chest and arms and oh! how badly you wanted him to throw you around and fuck you stupid.
For the outside world, you were a beautiful woman, traveling the world for photography projects and trying new cuisines and cultures. Always seen together with your two male companions. Some even think you might be dating one of them and the other is a mutual friend. But nobody knows that you equally loved and cherished two of the most popular business entities in Seoul, Kim Namjoon and Park Jimin, and vice versa
You were nervous and fidgety at the start of the relationship, you didn't even know if you should've called the three of you that? thinking about the what ifs and what would happen if someone found out? Also, internally fighting your thoughts about how this would work, emotionally.
Namjoon assured you that this would remain a secret, and nothing would be against your consent, you could end this anytime you want, also stating, they would love you so much you wouldn't want to leave.
And he was right, you don't ever want to. You love them both, they love you equally and they can fuck you like no one ever has and nobody ever would be able to. They know their way around your body, what makes your eyes roll, what makes you gasp, and how to make your toes curl. Just like this night.
Stumbling inside the suite, Namjoon picked you up by your thighs after Jimin undressed you, leaving you only in your panties. You reach the edge of the bed making out with Joon while Jimin's body warmth leaves from around you.
Laying you down on the bed, namjoon trails his lips down your neck to your nipples. Trying to find Jimin you reach your hand out absentmindedly, calling his name desperately. The mattress dips next to you and you see him sitting next to you with his shirt open as he sipped wine from his glass, smiling.
This man is gonna be your death.
"Jimin" you whine when namjoon reaches your inner thighs, kissing, licking, biting, making you clutch the sheets with one hand and your boob with the other.
"Yes baby, I'm right here" he coos, flicking away a strand of hair that's sticking to your forehead. You whine, trembling in Namjoon's hold as he mouths at your clothed pussy.
"Please joonie fuck-" you hear both of them chuckle at your impatience. Turning your head sideways you squeeze your eyes shut.
"Poor baby, do you wanna cum?" Jimin asks, smirk audible in his voice.
"Y-yes fuck-" You cry out.
"Should we make her cum hyung?" Jimin coos at you, grazing his knuckles on your cheeks so gently it makes you mewl.
Namjoon lifts his head with a smile and looks at Jimin, "I don't know, should we?" He says that in his throaty voice which makes you clench around nothing. You whine, shaking and throbbing while they look at you with their dark and lust-filled gazes.
Chuckling at your twitchy body, Namjoon removes your laced panty. Dipping his thumb in your hole he places his now-slicked thumb on your clothed clit and starts drawing short circles making you shut your legs at the sudden stimulation.
Namjoon forces your legs open with a growl, "Don't. Hide." You almost fold in half when he doesn't waste time and attaches his mouth to your cunt. Sucking at your bud and creating a torturous pattern, you see stars.
Your back arches and you whine, clutching onto Jimin's arm for dear life. Jimin breathes heavily through his nose as he watches the scene with a hand rubbing his hard-on. Namjoon eats you up like he was starving. You feel your legs closing but the man between your legs prevents you from doing that.
"Fuck yes! Yes!" You lift your hips trying to rut in his face but namjoon stops you by placing his hand on your abdomen.
You come in his mouth as he laps at your slick, nails digging in Jimin's forearms as you hear him curse under his breath. When you settle down from your high, you notice how heavy all of your breaths are. Namjoon kisses your inner thighs trying to soothe your burning skin.
"Hyung, hold her open for me." Jimin suddenly says with a dark stare, tongue licking his full bottom lips. He watches hungrily how namjoon kisses your cunt as it oozed slick, before leaning away at his command. Jimin gets up, eyes locked on your cunt, and shivers travel up your spine.
He might be smaller than Namjoon but he had all the control over you and the bigger male. Both, you and him wouldn't want to displease Jimin.
Namjoon instantly gets up and sits on the edge of the bed, pulling you up against his chest easily. Your head falls against his shoulder, chest heaving, hair messed up, makeup smudged. Perfectly fucked out, they think.
You watch Jimin get on his knees in front of you still looking at your exposed center, as namjoon lifts your knees up to your chest. Holding your knees above his elbows, opening you wide, folding you in half.
"Fuck baby, you're soaking," Jimin whispers, more like whispering to himself.
He rubs your slit with his fingers making nasty squelching sounds and your face heats up in embarrassment. You notice with hooded eyes how both men are almost fully clothed, Jimin with his shirt unbuttoned, while namjoon is still dressed.
You inhale sharply through your teeth when Jimin parts your folds with his fingers and rubs directly at your clit with his middle finger, making you gasp. Glancing at you for a second he spits on your pussy and watches it drip down so that he can rub it with his finger.
Namjoon groans in your ear at the way you react to Jimin's fingers, while the said person just stares at your pussy. Staring at the way your thighs shake and your cunt leaks. Leaning in he looks up from behind his black locks, he smirks before entering his tongue in your hole.
You're close, you know it, your legs try to close at the overstimulation but namjoon parts them more, giving jimin more space to burry his face inside. The tongue entering you and swirling around was making you dizzy. You clutched at namjoons hair, kissing him hard.
Your eyes tear up at the slow ministrations of his mouth, and you already feel the orgasm building up in your stomach, but it's so slow you might lose your mind.
"Jimin, fuck please." You beg him against Namjoon's mouth, teeth clashing. He could taste the tears that were flowing out of your eyes as you kissed him with everything you had.
"You wanna cum baby?" Jimin coos.
"Y-yes-"
"Make her cum Jimin ah, please," Namjoon begs, out of breath as he watches you with a dizzy expression. Jimin raises an eyebrow at him. He trails his hand to Namjoons inner thigh. He squeezes the clothed flesh, making his breath hitch.
When you first met Jimin you immediately noticed how he always made people shy and flustered around him. He has this effect on people that they might end up on their knees if he told them to.
Namjoon was one of those people, too.
Jimin squeezed his thigh and never has namjoon hated anything more than the trousers he is wearing right now.
"Make her cum yourself, then."
He gets up, leaving both of you confused, but before you can comprehend anything, Namjoon doesn't think much and acts fast. Lifting you up slightly he lets his cock free, he groans in pleasure at the slightest friction.
You both moan lewdly when he enters you, and your eyes roll back at the stretch. You could feel him rearranging you from the inside, hitting all the deep spots. Jimin sits across you, watching with his dick in his hand, slowly stroking, focusing on you.
You bounce on Namjoon's cock absentmindedly, mumbling nonsense as you near your climax. You both groan and grunt in pleasure. You can feel it, and so does Namjoon. Jimin notices how close you are, and how close namjoon is to his climax.
He smirks.
"Do not cum, hyung."
Fucking hell.
"Oh please no-" Namjoon babbles.
"I. Said. Dont."
"No no no, please n-no" his voice cracks.
"Jimin I-I am gonna-" you cry out.
"Go on baby cum for me." Jimin smiles, stroking his cock faster, totally enjoying the way namjoon loses his mind. The squelches of Jimin jerking his cock off hurriedly, moaning and breathing so heavily makes you tip off the edge
"F-fuck no-" Namjoon tears up when he feels your orgasm for a moment before he lifts your body urgently as he falls backward on the bed. He fists the bottom of his dick as you rub yourself to release everything, gaining support with one of your hands on his knee. Jimin squirts his cum simultaneously all over his hand, growling deeply and darkly as he watches you shaking and gasping out in pleasure, almost tipping off the bed.
Walking up to you, Jimin leans down and kisses you while helping you get off Namjoons tortured dick. Laying you on the bed, he kisses you on your forehead. He pushes himself up and walks towards the older man down on the bed. His body is sweaty, and his dick is in his hand, eyes squeezed shut.
Cooing at Namjoons red face and purple dick, he lies beside him. He props himself on his elbow, with his body sideways, and faces the older male.
"Don't ever tell me what to do next time, yeah, hyung?" Jimin says softly while he grabs his jaw firmly, holding eye contact with the breathy man.
"You are evil," Namjoon says with a clenched jaw, his eyes teary and face red with frustration. "I know, hyungie, but only I can make you come, yeah? Only I can let you come." Jimin chuckles, releasing him from his hold.
"Let me cum.." he breathes out a whine, eyes squeezed and chest heaving.
You watch everything tiredly, not able to move your body as a tear falls from Namjoon's eye. Kissing the corner of Namjoon's lips, he holds his dick making him whine, and you feel your breath hitch at the scene unfolding in front of you.
You watch as Jimin strokes Joon's dick slowly, both men groaning as the older one shakes in pleasure and pain. You know your body is all spent up but you can feel your clit throbbing at the sounds both the men make.
"Please, jimin, please!"
'Make him cum please', its like a mantra is going on in your head, but you still wanna see how this goes so you keep your mouth shut. Because you know how bomb those held off orgasms feel like.
"Cum, hyung." He whispers and you, although thoroughly spent, groan as the bigger male reaches his high. Jimin bites Namjoon's earlobe, increasing the pace of his strokes.
He cries out, and you think you also heard him sob in relief. Pulling Jimin in a rushed kiss, cumming all over his hand. You watch them make out, breathy, sweaty, and nastily noisy as Jimin milks his cock dry. Smiling in the kiss, he keeps on pecking Joon's plump lips as he just exhales heavy breaths, trying to gain his senses back.
They part from each other with dizzy eyes. "Fuck." You sigh out grabbing both their attentions as they look at you at the same time. "I knowwww" Joon drags the word whining in his throaty voice, "Fuck." he sighs smiling with droopy eyes as his head falls tiredly on the mattress under him, as Jimin gets up chuckling.
"I'll bring you both some water."
You try getting up and reaching for your underwear that almost got torn apart when Jimin interrupts by clearing his throat. He has one of his eyebrows raised and you pause.
"I am not done with you both yet, rest. It's a very long night." Saying that he leaves, and you lock your eyes with Namjoon. You don't say anything, but you both see the realization on each other's faces.
"We're all gonna be so sore tomorrow," Namjoon says chuckling and you smile at the padding footsteps just outside the room.
oh, It's gonna be a long night.
#bts#bts fic#kim namjoon#namjoon#namjoon fanfic#namjoon fic#namjoon fluff#namjoon imagine#namjoon smut#namjoon x reader#namjoon x you#jimin#park jimin#jimin fanfic#jimin smut#jimin x reader#bts jimin#jimin and namjoon#bts scenarios#bts one shot#bts drabble#bts au#bts fanfction#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#bts ff#bts fic rec#bts fic recs#bts fluff#bangtan sonyeondan
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Distraction
This work is 18+. MDNI!!
Summary:
Rafe, Topper and you are in an established poly relationship and you live together.
One evening, Rafe and you need to distract Topper. The best way to do that is with s e x. And action.
Warnings: light dom/sub dynamics, pure smut basically with very, very little plot
@maybanksbabe Libra, this is for you. you wanted to be tagged. proceed with caution. this is nearly 6000 words of sex, completely un-betaed, hardly proofread... you have been warned.
Read on AO3.
All three of you have problems with your family: Ward Cameron is a fucking psycho, Cynthia Thornton is an authoritarian dictator and your parents are... well... you know best what your parents are.
Fact is that parents and family are a sensitive issue for all three of you which is why you don’t talk about it very often. It is also why all three of you revel in this sweet little safe space that is your relationship and why none of your parents are ever allowed to set one foot into the apartment that you share.
You are chilling on the couch, your legs draped over Topper, both of you scrolling through social media, showing each other posts and reels, while Rafe is working on his laptop at the kitchen table, smiling over to the two of you every now and then.
"You should have finished work this morning when we both were at work, too," Topper teases him with a sly grin.
You raise your eyebrow at Topper, "Careful," you say amused, "You know he'll make you pay for comments like this once he's done."
Topper wiggles his eyebrows at you and you realize that this is what he’s hoping for - you should have known.
He opens his mouth to say something else, when the phone in his hand starts ringing. He looks at it and his expression darkens immediately at the sight of his mother's name on the screen. "Oh great," he mumbles and gets up.
"Don't answer it," you advise half-heartedly although you already know that it's in vain because Topper accepts every single call, especially if it's from either of his parents.
"Is it Cynthia?" Rafe asks from the kitchen table a couple of feet away. You nod silently. "Tell her I say hi!" He calls after Topper.
Topper just flips him off as he leaves to his room.
Cynthia does not approve of your relationship in the slightest and although it's been several years since Topper legally became an adult, his mother still tries to control every aspect of his life and uses every opportunity to let him know how little she thinks of his life choices. She doesn't like you but maybe she would accept you at some point if it wasn't for the fact that there is still is Rafe - and Rafe and Topper had a connection way before you and Topper did.
Rafe and you share a long, meaningful look before Rafe shrugs and goes back to his work. You look right through him, though; you see his worry how his shoulders are all tense now and how his eyebrows are drawn together. The atmosphere has shifted in the room. It was all cozy and relaxed before and one call of one of your parents just changed everything. Now it is heavy and tense. You hate it.
You pick on your nails and try not to listen to the muffled sounds coming out of Topper's room that sound a lot like Topper defending himself non-stop. After a while, everything is silent. You wait for Topper to come back out but he doesn't. A couple of minutes later Rafe notices it as well. He closes his laptop. "Do you think they are still talking?" He asks.
You shake your head. "He's been quiet for a while."
Rafe pushes the laptop away from himself and gets up. "I'll check on him."
That is when Topper's door opens and Topper comes back into the living room. He is clearly upset, his hair all tousled from constantly running his hands through it, his jawline tense and he is avoiding eye contact which is always the biggest sign for him.
Already standing in the middle of the room on his way to Topper's, Rafe reaches out for him and pulls him close with a soft "Hey there." Topper almost melts against him. Rafe kisses his head with so much love and you wish it would be enough to take away all of Topper's worries.
You lock eyes with Rafe again, silently asking him what to do. When it comes to Topper's emotions, it is usually best to follow Rafe's instincts. They have known each other since they were kids and their emotional connection was way stronger than yours and Topper's was when Topper first came into your relationship. This is something that is really hard to catch up on.
Rafe jerks his head very subtly and you immediately get up from the couch and approach them. "We're here for you," you mumble against Topper's shoulder, kissing it softly as you start stroking his back in comfort.
Topper takes a step back from the two of you and grabs Rafe’s belt. "What are you doing?" Rafe asks bewildered. He takes a step back himself when Topper opens his belt with trembling fingers. "Don't," he says when he grasps what Topper is up to.
"Let me -" Topper starts explaining but cuts off and tries to open Rafe's pants instead.
"Top, stop," Rafe insists, pushing Topper's hands away. "Stop it!" Topper doesn't stop though, taking a step closer to Rafe, trying to kiss him demandingly.
"Topper, he said no," you try to step in.
"Come on, you love it when I suck you off, so just let me-" He tries to palm Rafe's dick but Rafe takes another step back, shoving Topper's hands away, forcefully this time, and when this still isn't enough for Topper to try to get his hands on him, Rafe explodes.
"Didn't you hear what I just said?" He growls.
Topper finally looks at him, his eyes just as angry. "What is your problem? We fuck all the time, why not now?"
"Because you're upset," you say, stepping in between the two of them.
"Yeah, I know, thank you for reminding me," Topper snaps.
"Talk to us," you tell him.
Topper just looks at you angrily. "I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to think about it." He turns around, too agitated to stand still. "You guys never understand!"
"Oh, we don’t understand what's it's like to have fucked up parents?" Rafe shouts, "We?" He motions between you and him. "Fuck off, Topper! Have you fucking met Ward?" Rafe turns to leave the room while Topper opens his mouth for whatever he wants to say next.
"Stop, both of you," you insist loudly. When both of them look at you, you continue, "Rafe, this is not what Topper meant, I'm pretty sure, he meant that we don't understand what he needs - and Topper, how the hell do you want us to understand if you don't talk to us?" Topper and Rafe stare at each other, clearly still frustrated over what has just happened. "Stop being idiots, both of you. We were all fine before Cynthia called so this is just because of her and I refuse to give her so much power over us that we are fighting because of her." You turn to Topper and see him swallow thickly. "Rafe wanted to comfort you, and even if you needed something else, you can't just use him as a distraction whenever you like - no matter if you blow him or not. You really should know that! You need to tell him or us what you want - if you don't want to talk, fine, if you want to have sex, perfect, but you need to fucking tell us."
Topper rakes his fingers through his hair again. "I know," he whispers, very vulnerable now, "Fuck, I'm sorry." He presses his hands against his eyes, trying to force down tears. He swallows again and takes his hands from his face, looking directly at Rafe now. "I'm sorry, I just... I wanted to make you feel good because she... yeah..." Because Cynthia probably did nothing else but bash Rafe the entire time. Topper doesn't say that though, he doesn't want to talk about it and that is fine as well. It is nothing new anyway. He swallows again. "I'm sorry for overstepping."
Rafe steps forward into Topper's space and wraps his arms around him. "It's okay," he mumbles into his hair and kisses him comfortingly. "Apology accepted."
You smile at the two of them. Those are your boys. You step closer again, gently rubbing both their backs for comfort. "I love you two so much," you whisper and before you know it you're in the middle of a triad hug and everything is fine again.
"So, what do you want to do now?" You ask when you all let go. "Are you done with work, Rafe?" Rafe nods. "Are you hungry?"
"Um..." Topper tries, looking a little embarrassed, and Rafe's and your attention is immediately on him. "I would love to have sex if the two of you are in?"
You look at Rafe who is definitely in by the way his pupils dilate instantly. You exchange a single glance and that's all you need to know. "We're so in," you say and let your hand run down Topper's chest suggestively. "You gotta tell us what you want though." Topper is not good at communicating and maybe this is one way to help him improve his communication skills.
"I..." he stutters, physically responding to your touch.
"Do you want to watch me and Rafe?" You ask teasingly because you are positive that whatever he has in mind, this is not it. Having to watch you is almost like a punishment for him.
Realizing what you are up to, Rafe grins at you, amused.
Topper grimaces. "No," he shakes his head, looking at you, almost offended.
You take your hands off of him and get your hands under Rafe's shirt, letting your nails trail across his stomach in a way that instantly sends goosebumps all over his arms. You smirk at him, clearly enjoying yourself, before you look back at Topper. "I don't know what you want if you don't tell us, Christopher," you tease him.
You realize your mistake almost before the name leaves your mouth.
Rafe tenses beneath your fingers and Topper's expression hardens again. "Don't call me that."
It really is stupid of you to call him by the name only his mother calls him right when he is upset about her. "Sorry, I didn't think," you apologize immediately and for a second you think that you ruined everything and Topper will retrieve back into his head, but then Topper takes a deep breath and looks straight at you.
"I want you two to use me to get yourselves off," he says matter-of-factly and you think that this is the first time you actually hear him say these words in the two years you've been together now. He swallows before he continues to clarify, "And I want one of you to fuck me, I don't care who. You can decide. Just... distract me. I don’t know, I'm gonna go shower." With that, he turns on his heels and leaves the living room. You both look after him, both visibly impressed.
"Fuck that was hot," Rafe hisses next to you, "You have to make him say it out loud more often." You nod.
"How do you think we should do this?" You ask him as the two of you walk over to your bedroom, "Anything in mind? Anything you want to do?"
Rafe shrugs.
"I have an idea but that would be more your kinks than his," you say, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively.
He looks at you, all ears. "Tell me?"
You look straight into his eyes, curious about his reaction. "I thought about bending him over the kitchen table, spanking him until he barely can hold himself up anymore, and then fucking him." His reaction doesn’t disappoint.
Rafe just stares at you for a second, mouth open, unable to swallow. You were so right, this is rather for him than it is for Topper. He palms his cock and adjusts his pants. "I'm so hard right now." Anything that involves impact play is usually more up Rafe's ally than anyone else's. He loves pain - Topper and you not so much.
"Aw," you tease him, giddy about how easy it is to rile up both of your boys. "Told you it was more for you than for him."
"You're making me sub way more than I want to," Rafe complains.
You start laughing, holding your hands up in defense. "I'm not making you do anything, Rafe. This is a free country."
"Mh," He pouts, grabs you around the waist and pulls you closer. Quietly, as if it pains him to say it out loud, he says, "Do that to me next time it's only the two of us?" He tips his forehead against yours and breathes in your scent.
You smile up at him, invading his space, kissing him affectionately on the lips. "Sure - although I think we could find a way to include Top."
Rafe pouts again, for real this time. "Please don't let him do the spanking, he's too soft."
You can't help but laugh. "Alright, I won’t. But right now we need an idea for him. What do you think is best to distract him from that evil witch?"
"Let's keep it simple," Rafe says with a shrug, "Top on his back, you sit on his face and I'll fuck him - and then we switch, you ride him or you use a strap-on, I don’t know, and I’ll have him blow me." Simple. Huh.
Now it is your turn to stare at him, your mouth dry, making it difficult to swallow. That sounds fantastic.
"Alright, then," you say as cool as humanly possible while you watch Rafe take his shirt off. "Do you want to lead today?" And he looks at you with wide eyes because your offer is a big deal to him.
With a shake of the head, he declines. "Nah, let's take him like we're used to." What you are used to is you as a domme, Rafe as a switch and Topper as a sub.
"You sure?" You ask.
He comes closer, cups your face with one hand and kisses you softly. "One hundred percent."
"What is one hundred percent?" Topper's voice comes from the bedroom door. His hair is wet now, styled half-heartedly to the side and he only put his trunks back on.
Rafe reaches out to him and coaxes him forward, "That we're gonna distract you ," he says softly as Topper steps closer. Rafe wraps one arm around him, pulling him close, and presses a soft kiss to Topper's forehead.
"Are you sure you want sex?" You ask carefully, just to make sure. "We could also do something else? Whatever you want."
Topper just shakes his head and looks up, eyes bright now with anticipation. "No, please, I really want to." So that's settled then.
"Alright then," Rafe says, a smirk forming on his lips. He looks at you expectantly and that is your cue.
"How about, you undress Rafe now that he really is in the mood for it?" You ask Topper, kissing his shoulder. Topper goes red immediately, clearly embarrassed by how he behaved earlier. You take off all of your clothes except for your panties while Topper undoes Rafe's belt and pulls down his pants and his underwear at the same time.
You order Rafe to sit on the bed, propped up against the headboard while you let your hands travel all over Topper's body. You kiss the nape of his neck, letting your teeth nibble over the skin there. It makes him gasp immediately. "Go and make Rafe feel good, get him hard," you whisper into Topper's ear demandingly and Topper obeys promptly. You follow him onto the bed and begin to kiss down his back as he begins to kiss Rafe's torso. He smells good, a mixture of freshly showered skin, his body wash and his personal smell that you fell in love with a long time ago.
You kiss down his back until you reach his tailbone. You give the skin there a lot of extra love, his tailbone being a not so secret sweet spot of his. At the same time, you pull down his trunks and guide him out of them. He is hard already.
You hear Rafe hiss as Topper takes him into his mouth for the first time tonight. "That's nice," you tell him, your eyes fixed on the expression of pleasure in Rafe's face, as you put lube on your fingers, "Get Rafe hard so that he can fuck you later." Topper moans at your words which in turn makes Rafe moan because of the vibrations around his cock. You love all of this so much. Everything is more fun when it is the three of you.
You watch mesmerized as your first finger enters Topper without a warning. It is so hot, you will never get used to this sight. Topper moans and immediately clenches around your finger, pulling his mouth off of Rafe with a gasp. "Feels good," he murmurs.
You smack him hard on his left buttock. He groans and rocks his hips backwards. "I didn't say you could stop sucking Rafe, did I?" You ask.
"No," he answers, "Sorry." And with that he swallows Rafe down again, almost making Rafe come on the spot.
"Jeez," Rafe swears, "You really mean it tonight." He brushes the still damp hair out of Topper's face and watches him fondly as Topper puts everything he has into this blow job.
"Keep his head right there," you tell Rafe as you start moving your finger. You twist and twirl it until you can feel Topper's knees shaking a little bit and the moans and gasps that come out despite the presence of Rafe's cock in his mouth are nothing but beautiful. You work in a second finger and continue stretching him.
Topper always stretches easily, his hole being used to it. It doesn't take long until three of your fingers fit easily and he is worked up enough.
You move forward on the bed and replace Rafe's hands on Topper's head with yours. "Look at you," you say softly to Topper, "Making Rafe hot all over. Making him sweat. Making him feel good. Like the good sub that you are." Topper moans at your praise and continues to work his mouth and hand over Rafe. You look up at Rafe shortly to see how worked up he is already. He could probably come right then and there if he didn't hold it together. Topper sure knows what your boyfriend likes.
You decide to make it a little harder for the two of them. "Fuck him, Rafe," you command and hold Topper's head steady so that Rafe could thrust his hips upwards. "Keep that mouth wide open, Top. If it gets too much, tab my hand." Rafe watches his dick slide in and out of Topper's mouth with each slow thrust of his hips, eyes wide with arousal.
"That is so hot," Rafe pants out.
"Someone wanted to get used, didn't he?" You ask seductively, "So, let's use him." And you continue to hold Topper steady, watching Rafe buck up his hips, listening to Topper gag every now and then. So hot.
Rafe stops thrusting upwards when he is close. Not wanting to come just yet, he stills his hips, panting heavily and gets up onto his knees. "Lay back," he tells Topper and gives him a little push.
With one swift motion, he has Topper flash on his back and Topper's legs up in the air, propped up against his shoulder. Topper can't do much but gasp, completely out of breath.
"No break for that filthy mouth of yours," you tell him as you lean over his face and kiss him seductively, holding his chin tight to assert control.
He moans obscenely when Rafe pushes three fingers into him. You watch mesmerized as they sink deeper into Topper. The muscles of Rafe's arm twitch which means that he must be working those fingers inside Topper's ass. "My fingers are different from Y/N's, hm?" He teases Topper and you almost get jealous as you suddenly crave having these fingers and their skills inside you.
Rafe then pulls a condom over with dick, lubes it up and pushes the tip of his dick inside Topper.
Topper groans and wiggles a little in discomfort but between the two of you, you manage to keep him still. You continue to kiss him and swallow most of the noises that would otherwise leave his mouth.
"You feel so good," Rafe praises him and continues to push in further.
"Do you hear that?" You whisper against Topper's lips, "You're making Rafe feel good."
"Yeah," Topper replies needily and tilts his hips so that Rafe can enter him more easily. He gasps against your lips when Rafe hits a certain spot deep inside of him.
"Such a good boy," you whisper softly before you continue to kiss him relentlessly, giving him as little time to breathe as possible.
Once Rafe is inside Topper entirely, he waits, giving Topper some time to adjust, breathing deeply as he has trouble keeping his hips still. You stop kissing Topper and straddle his chest, facing Rafe. "Tell Rafe how he is making you feel, Topper," you order, remembering how hot Rafe thought it was when Topper outright told you what he wanted from you tonight.
"So good," Topper pants, "I'm so full."
You reach out and touch Rafe's chest, letting your fingers brush over his torso, down his stomach, all the way to his crotch and back up again. You watch his muscles flex underneath your fingers. "Do you enjoy being full?" You ask and brush your fingers across Topper's cock while watching Rafe's face where his arousal is so openly on display.
"Yeah," Topper whispers as Rafe's fingers replace yours on his dick and Rafe starts to stroke him up and down the lengths of it.
"Do you like being touched like this?" You continue to ask and signal Rafe to start moving.
"Yes," Topper whimpers, "I do, it's the best thing in the world."
You grin at Rafe. "The best thing in the world?" You ask, your tone mocking now.
"Yes," Topper gasps as Rafe's hips pick up speed. "By far."
"Ah, Top," Rafe groans. He is slamming his hips into Topper but you know that it is Topper's words that arouse him so much.
"You enjoy hearing that?" You ask Rafe as you move backwards a little so that Topper can eat you out. He knows exactly what you want from him, bringing his hands to your thighs, his mouth immediately getting to work as soon as your vulva is close enough.
"Yeah," Rafe grunts, "So much."
You smile at him, a loving expression on your face as you bend over to kiss him.
It is a mixture of moans and gasps in your bedroom for a little while and you just love it. It is so incredibly intimate. Taking the whole scene in, almost makes you come just like that. Topper's tongue is doing the rest. You are so riled up already.
Rafe is incredibly close ever since he first started fucking Topper's mouth, he is panting against your lips, barely able to respond to your kisses. You make it more difficult for him by using one hand to hold his face close and the other to let your nails trail all over his body, leaving scratch marks behind.
And Topper is getting fucked just like he likes it best, Rafe steadily fucking into him with hard, deep thrusts, his fist stroking Topper's dick, the rhythm of his fist mirroring that of his hips. He is eating you out well, but he is lucky that the frequent breaks, he has to take in between licking you, only add to your arousal.
“May I come?” Topper asks completely out of breath.
“You can come whenever you want,” you say and scratch his hard nipples with your nails. “But Rafe will keep fucking you until he comes himself, keep that in mind!”
Topper groans and you know that he wants to fight it, keep it in a little longer, but Rafe is playing dirty, pushing all his buttons, so Topper comes not even a minute after asking for permission. His whole body spasms with the force of his orgasm.
You give him a little break from eating you out until he regains control over himself to some extent, but then you decide to take matters into your own hands. You lift your hips higher up so that you can actually see Topper’s face. "Tongue out," you order and reach around to grab his hair, holding him steady as you first slide your pussy over his tongue, back and forth, and then push down onto his tongue, making it enter you as deep as it goes. "So good," you praise him as he gasps for breath. "So, so good." You do the same thing again, sliding your pussy back and forth in a rhythm that feels good, from your clit all the way to the entrance of your vagina. Your hand is tangled into his hair, keeping him there so that you can literally use him just as you wish until your orgasm washes over you.
“Oh thank god,” you hear Rafe whisper and you open your eyes to see him thrust into Topper a couple more times before he comes himself.
When he comes down from his orgasm, you all collapse onto the bed, breathing heavily. You take a cloth from your nightstand and hand it to Rafe who cleans Topper and himself a little bit. When he is done, Topper snuggles up against Rafe’s chest almost immediately and Rafe lets him, closing his arms around him.
You scooch a little closer, your fingers tracing patterns on Toppers back and Rafe’s arms.
“Did you wait until I came?” You ask Rafe. He looks at you over Topper’ head.
“Yeah, I wanted you to come first,” he replies, his voice soft and low, fully sated.
“That’s hot,” you say, voice impressed. "How are you?" You ask Topper, patting his shoulder so that he knows you’re addressing him.
"Good," he whispers against Rafe’s chest, "Better, definitely."
You smile up at Rafe.
The three of you lie there for a little while, enjoying each other’s company, cuddling silently, until Rafe asks, "Ready for round two?"
Topper looks at him in surprise. "We wanted to hit the gym tomorrow morning."
“Yeah, but we’re not done with you quite yet,” you tell him and push his shoulder down so that he is lying on his back once more.
"I'll reward you for every extra rep," Rafe wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.
That sentence goes immediately to Topper's dick. "Alright, I'm in," he says.
A minute later, Topper finds himself on his back again, with you on top of him this time, riding his dick, while Rafe holds him down.
"I want to come twice before you are allowed to come again," you tell Topper as you fuck yourself on his dick.
Topper groans, unsure of whether that is realistic, as he could probably come again already.
"Oh, is it too much?" You ask viciously and let your hands trail down his torso, "I could always ignore your dick," you let him slip out and sit down on one of his thighs, "and use one of your thighs instead." You begin to rub your pussy over his thigh, stimulating your clit.
"No," Topper whines, "Please, I'll be good."
You slide over his thigh faster. "You sure you can take it?" Your words are addressed at Topper but your gaze is fixed on Rafe who watches you in awe.
"Yes, I'm sure, I promise," Topper nearly shouts in his desperation.
"You better hold that promise," you say and let yourself sink down on his cock again.
You reach behind, steadying yourself on his thighs as you begin to thoroughly ride him. He feels so good in you and the position hits just the right spots. You shamelessly rub your finger over your clit, stimulating as many nerves as possible, until you explode with an orgasm so intense, it takes you a while to come back to your senses.
When you open your eyes again, you look into two heavily aroused faces.
You take in one last breath before you bend forwards. "That was the first one," you tell Topper. "It's not gonna get any easier from here. You love some good cockwarming, don’t you?" You tease and Topper's eyes get glassy with tears.
That doesn’t stop you or makes you go any easier on him. Topper knows his safe words, he will use them if it ever gets too much.
"You wanted to get used," you say, "Now this is us using you."
You remain sitting on his rock hard cock and tell Rafe to fuck his mouth again.
You are bent forward slightly to be able to hold Topper's face steady and watch for any clues of discomfort. You do it so often that each of you is used to it on the receiving end and practiced and careful at the giving end but you still like to make sure everyone is safe, especially in Topper's position right now, lying on his back with you on top of him.
Plus, you love watching a throat bulge from a dick.
Rafe comes down Topper's throat raw and dirty and Topper swallows it so eagerly you almost feel bad for letting him wait until you come another time. Unfortunately for him, you never back down on what you say though.
You watch Rafe kissing Topper, probably tasting himself on Topper's tongue. You know how much he loves this.
"You did so well," you hear Rafe whisper praise against Topper's lips and Topper can't do anything but weakly smile at him, completely out of breath.
You brush over Topper's nipples to get his attention. He nearly flinches at the touch.
"Almost done," you say with a smirk. You decide against riding him again as he would probably not be able to make it until you reach another orgasm.
Instead you lift yourself up a little and turn around so that you are sitting on Topper's lap with your back towards his face. When he slides in you again, he gasps for air so much that you know you made the right decision. Hopefully he will make it until you come again because he's so exhausted already that you really don’t want to punish him on top of that. Would it be fun anyway? Sure.
You remain sitting on his lap and you spread your legs wide, his cock deep inside of you, as hard as ever.
"Come here," you say to Rafe. You're in desperate need to watch these fingers again. "Make me come," you tell Rafe and he doesn't have to be told twice, massaging your clit in a way that could make you squirt if you wanted.
You watch his fingers the entire time, and you know by Rafe's smirk that he sees right through you. "My eyes are up here, gorgeous," he whispers and tilts your face up towards his to kiss you.
"I know," you reply and kiss him back, "Not what I want to look at though."
Rafe leans closer, probably to force you to look at him so he can watch your face while you come but you take the opportunity to work your mouth over his body. You mouth along his chest, lick his nipples which still overstimulates him a little since his last orgasm was a few minutes ago - but he loves it, so he lets you. Feeling encouraged, you use your teeth and nibble and bite at everything that comes in your way.
It is when Rafe takes his own mouth to your neck, doing the same, that it is over for you. You come hard, breathing against Rafe’s neck, moaning shamelessly into his ear.
You give Rafe a soft thank you kiss before you finally turn your attention back to Topper for the last time today.
You order him to draw his legs up and hook your arms over them to manage to keep them as still as possible.
"Finger him," you tell Rafe next and Topper's immediate loud whine is the prettiest noise you get to hear all night. Once again you watch in awe as Rafe's fingers disappear inside Topper, making Topper pant and shout and tremble.
You kiss Rafe passionately as you grind your hips against Topper's dick and Rafe fingers him like there is no tomorrow.
It doesn't take long before a hoarse voice behind you croaks, "May I come?"
He may.
You stop grinding your hips, but simply clench around him while Rafe keeps fingering him and he comes with a cry.
His cock twitches inside of you and you keep working him, massaging his balls, until he's all soft and sensitive and spent.
You remove Topper's condom for him, the poor guy absolutely boneless.
The three of you lie intertwined in a tangle of limbs and bedsheets, your breaths gradually returning to a tranquil rhythm.
You rest your head on Topper's chest, while Rafe nestled against you from behind.
Fingers gently trace patterns on bare skin, expressing affection that words alone can not convey. There is an unspoken understanding between you, a bond that goes far beyond physical intimacy.
Topper is the one to softly break the silence, his voice filled with appreciation, "That was incredible, thank you."
You smile, your heart swelling with love. "I'm glad we've made you feel good."
"That is an understatement," Topper sighs happily.
Rafe kisses the top of your head and says, "I guess he would feel even better after round three."
You start laughing when Topper's head shoots up, looking at him incredulously. Rafe grants him a sly smile.
"Chill, Top," you laugh and pat his sides, "Rafe couldn’t go for another round right now."
Rafe protests immediately although he knows best you are right. He just loves to tease Topper.
"Be nice," you say and pinch his nipple for his trouble, "Or I'll make you go another round."
Rafe fake pouts. "Always so strict."
"Someone has to keep you in line and god knows that someone surely isn’t me," Topper mumbles and pulls you close. You chuckle at his words and drape one leg over his body.
"What are you doing?" Rafe asks, sitting up now two feet away from the two of you, "Cuddling without me?"
"You were being mean," Topper says playfully, "So, no more cuddles for you."
Rafe just scoffs and lays down on Topper's other side, nestling up against him, an arm thrown over the two of you. "I love you two so much," he mumbles against Topper's neck but you hear him just as well.
"I love you two so much," Topper answers before you can say anything, pulling both of you closer now. "I would lose my mind without you."
"We're so good together," you say against his chest.
#so one reason why I'm so much behind the kinktober stuff is that a certain blog has gotten me into poly!rafe#this is what happens#I'll write 6000 words of pure sm*t#rafe cameron#topper thornton#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x topper thornton x reader#polyamory#poly!rafe
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of kindling sparks
masterlist: part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
tropes: fluff, slow-burn
warnings: 11 year age-gap (reader is 23, joel is 34)
word count: ~6000
author’s note: so this chapter as well as the next one basically serve as one long exposition before the main story (aka the prequel). i realise this is lengthy as hell but i needed to flesh out the relationship between joel and the reader for the upcoming chapters to hurt, you know?
(p.s. there's mention of joel carrying the reader. i know some people might be put off by this, but joel is quite buff. i mean the man works in construction, i promise he can handle carrying an adult for less than a minute)
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The air was getting chillier, the change of seasons not going unnoticed. (Y/N)'s focus was razor-sharp as she drove through the streets of Austin, making sure to take in the ever-changing leaves on the trees she passed by. As an exchange student, it wasn't cheap to be renting a car, and the money her parents were generously providing her could only last for so long. She desperately needed another source of income. Her prayers were answered the week prior when she stumbled upon an advertisement near the exit to her university. It was for a babysitting job with a decent pay and convenient working hours. She wrote an email to the address written on the poster:
Dear Mr. Miller,
Is the babysitting job still available? I'm a student currently on an exchange program at the University of Texas. And while I haven't had prior experience in babysitting, I used to be an assistant teacher in a kindergarten. I'm very good with children and at keeping them alive (this is a joke, but I am pretty responsible, my mother can attest to this). If there is any need for it, I can also cook and clean up after each visit. Thank you for your consideration and I hope to hear from you soon!
Sincerely,
(Y/N) (L/N)
To which, much to her surprise, she received an answer shortly after:
Dear Ms. (L/N),
Yes, the babysitting job is still available. It's for my 12-year-old daughter Sarah. And while I appreciate all that you have to offer, there's nothing much to do but keep her alive, so your skill would be useful here. You can come by our house on 1411 Sullivan DR any day of the week after 5pm, we'll go over the details then. If you're still interested, you'll be able to start right away. See you soon!
Best regards,
Joel Miller
After half-an-hour of driving, the house finally came into view. Just as she parked the car in the vacant driveway, and before she went to meet some stranger she hoped wouldn't turn out to be a creep, the girl gathered her wits and courage with a clasp of her hands, a deep breath, and a firm nod as if to say 'There's no going back now, and if I die, it is what it is'.
Her three knocks on the door were followed by a long pause which made her believe she had arrived either at the wrong time or the wrong house. But as she was about to turn around and flee in embarrassment, out came a middle-aged man with disheveled hair.
"Hello. Is this the Miller's house?"
"Yes, hi! I am so sorry I kept you waiting. (Y/N), right?" he said, wiping his hands on a rag.
"That's me."
"Great. I'd shake your hand, but mine are a bit dirty. Please, come in." he stepped out of the way to let her walk further into his home.
It was decently spacious and cozy, which temporarily put her at ease. They walked through the living room into the dimly lit kitchen. It smelled of spices and garlic.
He gestured around, "Welcome to our humble abode. Pardon the mess, I didn't exactly have time to tidy up," While it wasn't exactly messy, they could benefit from an extra set of hands. "You said you weren't from around here?"
"No, I'm quite a long way from home," (Y/N) said, taking a seat at the dining table. "I wanted to see other places, gain a bit of independence. Austin was one of the first to accept me, and since it seemed like a fine city to live in, I packed up my things and arrived at the beginning of summer."
"I'm Texas born and raised myself. Wouldn't dream of living anywhere else. How old are you exactly?"
"Twenty-three, sir."
He proceeded to rummage through the fridge that was almost full. "Alright. Would you like a beer, then? And please, call me Joel. You're making me feel old."
"Right, Joel. And sure, I'll have one if you do."
Joel handed her a cold bottle as he sat down across from her. She was familiar with the brand, they served it at the bar she worked at part-time on weekends. For the next hour-and-a-half, the two discussed (Y/N)'s life, her studies, Joel's job as a contractor, and Sarah. At some point, the attacks on 9/11 came up, unpacking the nation-wide terror they had brought. She recalled the panicked calls she received from her parents, begging her to come home. She had to explain that she was alright, that there was nothing to do about it now, and that she couldn't leave the city when she had already formed ties and taken on responsibilities.
Just as Joel was getting into another anecdote from Sarah's childhood, they heard keys jangling in the front door as it opened and shut.
"Speak of the devil. Done playing already?"
A soft voice rang through the house, "Yeah, I'm really tired." Then a pigtailed girl stopped abruptly at the entrance to the kitchen. She was wearing a soccer kit, carrying both a purple backpack as well as a blue duffel bag.
"Sarah, this is (Y/N). She's gonna be your nanny from now on."
The little girl hesitated at first, then gently approached the table and extended her small hand for her to shake. "Nice to meet you." she said with as much courage as she could muster, earning a smile in return.
Getting up from his seat, Joel kissed his daughter's head and told her food was ready, which prompted the child to run upstairs to her room. Feeling like it was her cue to leave, (Y/N) followed suit and slung her bag on her shoulder.
"Would you like to stay for dinner? I'm not much of a chef, but I have to admit I make a mean chili." said the man, pointing at the steaming pot on the stovetop.
The smell of a homemade meal was making her mouth water, but she hadn't known them for long enough to get comfortable. "Thank you for your hospitality, but I should really get going. I have some reading to finish before morning."
The two made their way back to the front door. "Alright, then. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon, yeah?"
"See you tomorrow, Mr. Miller- Joel, sorry." she corrected herself, waving him goodbye as she swiftly got into her car and began the drive back to her apartment. She hadn't even begun the job, yet (Y/N) couldn't help but feel giddy about her small success.
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A couple of months had passed and (Y/N) was really enjoying her new gig. Sarah turned out to be the sweetest girl the young woman had ever had the pleasure of knowing. She wasn't fussy or troublesome, was very well-mannered, oh-so-friendly and kind, and a fan of using sarcasm here and there, which seemed to be something she picked up from her father. Joel, too, was accommodating to the new addition of their little family. (Y/N) could sense, however, that he was somewhat more reserved - closed, even. It was harder to get to know her employer, but she didn't mind, these things took time.
Leaning against her car, the young woman read her copy of 'Pride and Prejudice' for the 4th or 5th time. Something about it brought her great comfort, especially during the colder months. The festive season was quickly approaching and she wasn't sure if gifts would be appropriate so early-on in her employment. She had zoned out for so long, she didn't have time to register her name being called nor a pair of arms swiftly wrapping around her waist.
"Hey, kiddo." she laughed, hugging the curly-haired girl back.
She let go and stared up at her babysitter with her big round eyes. "Did daddy send you to pick me up?"
"No, I just finished classes and thought I'd swing by."
"What are you reading?"
(Y/N) turned the book to show the cover, "Pride and Prejudice. It's an old book."
"What's it about?"
"Uh- well, it's about a lot of things, but mainly it's the story of Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy who have to overcome their differences to end up together. Hence the title."
"That sounds kind of interesting."
"Yeah, but it takes a lot of hatred and pettiness to get there."
The little girl shook her head in disapproval, "Adults. Why do they have to complicate things?"
"Alright, wise one. Get in before you get cold."
The car ride gave them more time to bond. They sang to Sarah's favourite songs and talked about whatever was on the little genius's mind. It was a unique experience for both of them, two feminine energies collided, something each of them longed for dearly.
At home, (Y/N) spent a significant amount of time helping Sarah with her homework: a bunch of English grammar exercises, essay writing, as well as some algebra. Following their arduous work, the girls decided they deserved some fun and made creamy pasta (one of Sarah's favourites) for dinner. Whilst waiting for the patriarch to come home, they got comfortable on the couch to watch 'Mrs. Doubtfire'.
Unsure if she should speak during the movie, Sarah poked her babysitter's arm. "Do you have siblings?"
"I don't, no. Why do you ask?"
"I don't have any either. Do you ever get lonely?"
(Y/N) wasn't sure where these questions were coming from, but she decided to entertain them anyway. "I used to, growing up. Though my parents did a very good job at making sure I felt loved at home. I miss them a lot, but I'm happy here too."
There was a long pause as Sarah was visibly deep in her thoughts. "I never knew my mom," It shouldn't have shocked the young woman, she assumed Joel and his wife had separated after noting the absence of a maternal presence in their home, but it still came as a surprise. "Daddy said she had her own reasons and that they both agreed for me to live with him."
"Adults always have their own reasons for things, even if it may seem dumb. I'm sure it was a very difficult decision to make for her and that she loves you very much."
"I don't think about her often anymore. My dad can be busy, but he does a good job. He comes to every game, takes me to fairs and carnivals, helps me with school projects. He's also extra cool on vacation."
Something about her remark pulled at (Y/N)'s heart. "I see. He seems like a really great dad." The girls went right back to watching Robin Williams dance around while doing chores, as if they hadn't just touched on a thought-provoking subject.
It was almost 11pm and Joel was nowhere to be seen. Instead of letting the girl pass out on the couch, (Y/N) let her hold onto her back as she carried the sleepy child all the way to her room. Making sure all was right, she put her to bed, closed the window, turned on the night-light, then made her way towards the door.
"You're really cool," Sarah said sleepily with her eyes closed. "I hope you stay for a long time."
No compliment in the world could compare to a kid's heartfelt approval. "I hope so too, sweetie. Good night and good dreams."
Walking back downstairs, the young woman took one look around the house and decided she could pass the time cleaning up here and there. She started by tidying up the living room: folding the throws, fluffing up the pillows, putting the board games back on the bookshelf. Then she moved onto the kitchen where she took the trash out, scrubbed the surfaces clean as silently as she could, put the leftover pasta away, and washed the dishes. Satisfied with her work, she went back up to Sarah's room to leave a glass of water by her bed in case she got thirsty in the middle of the night.
In a house that was dead silent, she heard heavy footsteps. In a short panic, she grabbed a pair of scissors that were lying on the desk and crept up closer to the door. The steps were agonisingly slow and calculated. The woman felt like she was in a slasher movie. Babysitters always die first. The only indication she had of the intruder's whereabouts was from the shadow that was created by the light from the kitchen. This is what you get for not turning on every single light in a house where you're all by yourself. One of the most important rules in horror movies, she thought. The shadow approached closer and closer to the door, and just when she hoped the distance was close enough, she leapt out of the room and went straight for the stranger. Unfortunately, her blow was blocked and her body pushed up against the wall. In a blink, she realised what had happened.
"What the hell, Joel?" she whisper-shouted.
"(Y/N)? What are you still doing here?"
"Doing my job. Couldn't let Sarah stay all by herself with no indication of when you'd be back. That would be irresponsible of me."
He let go of her arms, lazily rubbing his face. "You're right, I'm sorry. I got held up and my cellphone died. I'm so exhausted, I completely forgot you were here."
"It's all good, I didn't hear you arrive either," she paused, noticing the blood running down his left hand. "Oh my God, Joel, you're bleeding!"
He looked at the wound like he hadn't even felt it until then, "Oh, this is nothin'. I had worse accidents at work."
"Still, it could get infected. Please, take a seat in the kitchen, I'll be right back."
She went straight to the bathroom to fetch the first-aid kit. It was essential to know where it was, what it had and how to use everything as someone who had to watch a small human being. She went back downstairs to start working on Joel's injury.
"I'm so sorry. I was so caught up in my own mind, I thought you were an intruder, and it was the only weapon at hand-"
"Please don't apologise. It was my bad, really. I should have announced myself," he spoke as he watched her gently clean the cut with a saline cleansing wipe. "Can't blame you for doing your best to defend yourself. Takes courage."
(Y/N) realised that upon closer inspection, her employer was quite handsome. Dark messy hair, a somewhat upkept beard, broad build, crow's feet that indicated how often he smiled, as well as nose wrinkles that indicated how often he frowned. She carefully applied medical tape to close-off the wound and went to put the kit back where it belonged. On her way down, she noticed him looking around in slight confusion.
"Did you…clean the house?"
"Oh, you know, just lightly tidied up. I'm not a fan of leaving the places I stay at messy. Kind of a habit," she noted the silence and her hands instantly became cold. "God, I'm sorry. Again. I- I didn't even ask if you were okay with me touching your belongings, I got-"
"No, you're good. You're good. Don't sweat it. It's just that," Joel chuckled at her need to be so polite after months of working together. "You didn't have to do this. I can't ask you do to things that aren't part of your job description."
"I know. And I don't mind. Really. It's not like I'm playing Cinderella day and night," she said as they shared a laugh. "My job is to take care of a kid and the environment plays a big role."
(Y/N) picked up her bag, ready to leave for the night, "See you on Monday, Joel."
He reached out to touch her shoulder, then just as quickly removed his hand as if she had burned him. "Uh- do you- are you- um," She looked at him with furrowed brows, it's almost as if he was…flustered? "What are your plans for Christmas? Or, you know, holiday season? If you celebrate anything at all-"
"I won't be able to fly out to see my family this year, so I haven't made any other plans yet. Why do you ask?"
The man scratched his neck sheepishly, only then realising how long he had kept her standing on his porch when it wasn't exactly warm outside. "Would you like to celebrate with us? Sarah would be ecstatic to have you."
Warmth blossomed in her chest at the sudden invitation. So gifts are appropriate. Noted.
"I would love to celebrate the holidays with you guys. But only if you don't mind."
"I don't mind."
"Excellent, then I'll be here."
"Great."
"Good."
They stared at each other for way too long, the nanny realised, bearing the slightest of smiles. "Well, then. Good night, Mr. Miller."
He shook his head at her teasing tactic, "Drive safe, Ms. (L/N)."
There she was again, driving back to her apartment, giggling to herself like a maniac and for what? They invited her to celebrate a holiday. People did that all the time. Office workers, family members, casual friends, new and old lovers, it was truly nothing exceptional. But to her it felt different and she couldn't tell if it was because Sarah liked her enough to want her there or if it was because it came from him. Christmas was three weeks away. Three. Weeks. Away. Gifts. She needed gifts. What would she give them? What did they like? It came to her that she didn't know them that well, which meant she had some investigating to do in the little time she had left for shopping.
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When Christmas finally came, (Y/N) simply could not contain her excitement. She thought long and hard about the presents she would give the Millers, and while they may have appeared simple, she hoped that they would be appreciated. She personally wrapped them up in brown paper and decorated them with stamps, ribbons, and tags, firmly believing in the art of gift-wrapping. Austin had yet to see snow, she didn't think it would ever happen, yet the city was nevertheless bursting with festive spirit. Various lights decorated the trees and bushes in public parks. People hosted diverse markets in the streets where they sold artisanal goods and delicious foods. (Y/N) had gone ice-skating with the Millers a couple of weeks prior. Joel was as bad as she thought he would be; Sarah, however, was a natural. They enjoyed a lively Christmas parade that same day.
After parking in front of the house that was very tastefully decorated with her help, the young woman made her way towards the door, her homemade chocolate tarte in hand, and knocked, taking a second to register a male voice she did not recognise. The door swung open to reveal a man not much older than her, wearing a plaid shirt and dark blue jeans.
Looking her up and down, the stranger gave her a smirk, "And who might you be?"
"Hands off the babysitter, Tommy!" she heard Joel yell from deep inside the house.
"Ah, the famous babysitter!" he exclaimed, opening the door further. "Please, make yourself comfortable."
It smelled of oven-roasted turkey, of cigarette smoke, and of pine from the christmas tree. She found all of them moving about the kitchen: cutting vegetables, setting the table, washing the dishes. She felt like she'd arrived a tad too late.
"Can I help with anything?" she said, awkwardly standing in the middle of the room.
"Nah, everything's good to go," Joel replied as he scrubbed the remaining pots, "(Y/N), this is Tommy, my brother."
Said brother took her hand and placed a tender kiss on the back of it, "Very nice to meet you." Sarah couldn't hide her look of disgust if she tried.
"I didn't know Joel had a brother."
"You didn't tell her about me?" Tommy asked in exaggerated disbelief.
"Was I supposed to? Didn't know I was running a datin' agency."
"Thought that was part of the deal when we agreed to be each other's wingmen."
"Mm, don't recall us ever doing that."
"Well, we did. Spiritually. When we went to Buddy's Place? It was just around the time when Cat-" Tommy's monologue cut short with one sharp glare from Joel. (Y/N) could practically taste the tension emanating from him. Not a big fan of reminiscing the past, she noted.
"You know what, it's no problem. It's the perfect occasion to get to know each other, eh?" the younger brother flashed her a smile. They sure had impressive genes in this family.
Once the eldest Miller was done cleaning, all three adults cracked open a few cold ones to start off the evening. Tommy had the brilliant idea to teach Sarah a few card tricks, peaking their guest's interest.
"What are you teaching a 12-year-old cards for?" (Y/N) amusedly asked. Sarah seemed excited, she was one of those kids who loved to learn, it didn't matter what it was.
"First of all, every member of the Miller family knows how to play cards, we start young. And second, if not me, then who?" He made a good point. Tommy was, after all, the fun brother. "Wanna join in? I'm told I'm a great teacher."
She caught onto the subtle flirt and found herself wanting to return the energy. He was tall, he was dark, he was handsome. He smelled of cigarettes and beer with a hint of citrus notes. Not bad with kids but he wouldn't want any of his own anytime soon; very friendly, which for him also meant outgoing, ballsy, and prone to getting into trouble; charming to the point that he might seduce a few dozen women in one night; funny enough to make people like and maybe even trust him. She didn't mind flirting, but that was the extent of her intentions, and something told her Tommy Miller felt the same way.
They spent some time watching as Tommy performed the most outrageous tricks seen to man, to which his sole excuse was "I'm a bit rusty". He also tried to teach Sarah the art of cheating which, much to his disappointment and sorrow, his niece refused to take part in for moral reasons. (Y/N) noted the elder Miller's absence and excused herself from the oh-so-riveting demonstration of a disappearing card to go look for him. After searching the kitchen, his bedroom, as well as the garage, she stepped outside with a throw blanket and found him sitting on one of the patio chairs.
"What are you doing here? You'll get cold." he said, glancing at her from the side.
"I'm tougher than I look," she answered, nevermind the blanket tightly wrapped around her frame. "Came to keep you company."
"Who said I need any?" She sensed a hint of a playful tone.
"I don't know, you look awfully lonely sitting next to that empty chair." This earned her a light chuckle as she sat down. He didn't look very warm with one hand in his jacket pocket and his collar lifted up to his chin. She proceeded to awkwardly move her chair closer to his and slowly, as if dealing with a wild animal, reached out to wrap the throw around both of them, thankful that it was big enough for the job.
Sensing how still and tense he was, (Y/N) felt the need to talk to lighten the mood, "So, do you always sit outside all by yourself? In the dark? And in complete silence? Brooding-"
"I get the picture, and no," he took a sip from his bottle. "Sometimes I like to sit in my car."
He was capable of humour, which was a refreshing discovery after countless weeks of being formal. She understood wanting to define clear boundaries between employer and employee, but when she was essentially tasked to bond with his child and regularly invited to family activities, the lines naturally blurred, and her curiosity intensified.
"Who's Cat?"
Joel was silent for a second, then let out a reluctant sigh, "Cat was…a girl I knew way back when I was young."
"You're talking like you're in your 50s."
"I'm 34 to be precise, but fine, back when I was younger," he said grumpily. "We dated for a bit, then we didn't. That's how it went with most women I met."
"Oh, is this a Casanova situation?"
"No, more of a 'not ready to commit to a kid' situation," The silence that followed was loud, (Y/N) didn't want to make a sound, afraid he'd realise what he was doing and shut himself off. "I was 21 when Sarah was born. She's the joy of my life, I don't know what I'd do or where I'd be without her, truly. But...it was hard back then for a single dad with a newborn. Never went to college, had to take on side jobs to sustain both of us. My love life wasn't exactly a priority, and when the opportunity presented itself, they fled as soon as they heard the mention of a child."
The next question was risky, but she couldn't think of anything else, "So you haven't dated since your younger days? Not even the hot single moms in your area?"
This made Joel laugh heartily, a sound she loved to listen to, something she wanted to hear more often. "Not really. I mean I've flirted here and there, but Sarah and I are good the way we are now. She's my priority, and I want to make sure my partner's good to my kid too, you know?"
"If you don't mind my asking, what happened to Sarah's mom?" (Y/N) probed further, "Sarah told me-"
"Nothing happened. She left and that was that." The wall was back up. You pushed your luck.
Luckily for them, Sarah called for everyone to play cards. Which was then followed by board games. What they discovered that evening is that (Y/N) was either incredibly skilled at them or simply unbelievably lucky. She and Tommy got on well, making innocent physical contact here and there, high-fiving each other, sharing a lot of laughter, too much laughter for the man that sat across from them. Joel wasn't jealous, he was never jealous, but the sight didn't make him feel happy either.
After a while, the oven beeped, indicating that the turkey was ready. The four of them prepared the table with bowls of salads, bread slices, side-dishes, making space in the centre for the bird accompanied by roasted vegetables. (Y/N) joined in their prayer before they dug into their food. They shared all sorts of life stories: Tommy's time in the army, the most frustrating clients Joel had ever had, more embarrassing anecdotes from Sarah's childhood, funny and dramatic events that occurred while (Y/N) was on vacation. The young woman then brought out the tarte she'd made for the occasion, much to everyone's delight. It was as silky as she hoped it would be, tasting notes of coffee in her chocolate dessert covered in walnut crumbs. The ambience was relaxing, they sat under the dim light of the scented candles dispersed throughout the kitchen, bathing in the sounds of laughter and utensils scraping against the food on their plates.
When all was devoured, they moved the party back to the living room and Tommy decided it was time for presents. Sarah received hers first, which turned out to be a collection of CDs of her favourite musicians from Tommy and a skateboard she'd wanted for a long time from her dad. She hugged each of them very tightly, already excited to put both of her new belongings to use. Then it was Joel's turn to unwrap a brand new wallet gifted by his brother (apparently, he had complained about his old one he owned for more than a decade) and a second-hand guitar from Sarah that she acquired from a friend's cousin then paid for a cleaning by a professional with her own pocket-money (with a little help from uncle Tommy). Tommy received a steel lighter from Joel, who claimed the custom engraving – a hand-drawn cowboy hat on the front and T. Miller on the bottom – was Sarah’s touch. Just when everyone thought they were done, (Y/N) cleared her throat, calling for their attention, whilst dragging her bag closer to where she sat on the floor.
“I brought gifts of my own.” She declared and pulled out a box and gave it to Tommy, whom she'd met only hours ago. “I’m sorry, I took this just in case someone else would be here, but I wish I had gotten to know you sooner to customise the present to your taste- “
“Oh my sweet God,” he muttered, staring at the large crystal bottle of whiskey. “This is one of the fanciest kind around, it ain’t fuckin’ cheap either!”
“You’re lucky Tommy here is a whiskey connoisseur.” Joel said from his laid-back position on the couch.
The younger brother engulfed her in a warm hug soon after, “You got my taste just right, sweetheart, thank you.”
The room was silent as she extended a purple envelope to Sarah, who sat across from her. It didn’t seem all too exciting. The kid in question opened the envelope, eyeing her babysitter, who herself seemed a bit nervous. The silence in the room was suddenly broken as the 12-year-old squealed her hardest squeal, forcing both Millers to cover their ears.
“It’s two VIP tickets to the Halican Drops concert in Houston next year!” she exclaimed, launching herself at the now grinning woman. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
“How’d you get those? I thought they were sold out.” her father asked, clearly having gone through the struggle of standing in long queues to make his daughter happy.
It was difficult to breathe with a prepubescent child sitting in your lap as she held you in a death-grip. “I have an old friend who happens to work at the venue.” she replied, accepting the kiss on the cheek from Sarah who sat back on the ground, practically buzzing as she stared at the pieces of paper in her hands.
Lastly, (Y/N) got up to stand in front of Joel as he looked up at the object she extended in complete surprise.
“You really didn’t have to- “
“Just open it.”
So he did. What he found inside was a Prussian blue knit scarf.
“I noticed you never wear one, and it’s pretty chilly out, so I figured I’d knit you one myself. Finished it just in time a couple of days ago. The color looks flattering on you.” she explained, blushing deeper and deeper with every word. She failed to notice that he, too, was heating up.
“Well, I’ll be damned. This woman can bake, she can knit, she’s smart, and she plays cards like a pro. I mean what can’t you do?” And while she knew Tommy was teasing, she couldn’t help but redden even more.
“I’m pretty proud of my mixing skills,” she added, making him pause with a face that read ‘no way’. “I’m a bartender on the weekends.”
She had barely finished her sentence when she yelped as Tommy scooped her up and over his shoulder. “That’s it! I’m taking this one with me. It was nice to see ya, big brother!”
(Y/N) squealed and wiggled around as much as she could to try to get him to let her down whilst Sarah did her best to save her friend by clinging to one of her uncle’s legs in protest. It was one chaotic scene unfolding in front of Joel, who had not moved from his seat, still staring at the scarf in his hands as he ran his thumb over the soft wool.
After all that excitement, the household members spent a few more hours watching ‘Home Alone 2’ and ‘Jingle All the Way’, DVDs Joel had bought earlier that week. During the viewing, he caught himself glancing at the woman curled up against the arm rest less than a few feet away from him. She remained completely oblivious, amused by the tomfoolery happening on-screen. He left the room for a moment to dispose of his empty bottle in the kitchen. On the short way there, he realised he was slightly tipsy. While he was rummaging through the drawers, he heard someone come up behind him.
“Looking for this?” he turned around to see (Y/N) holding up the bottle-opener. She walked up to the counter and opened the bottle in his hand, brushing her cold fingers against his warm ones in the process.
“You’re cold.” he commented bluntly.
“Yeah, my extremities get cold easily. That’s why I walk around in gloves and thick socks as soon as the temperature starts dropping.”
She threw away her own empty bottle and swiftly turned around to walk back into the living room, when she felt his hand wrap around her wrist ever so gently.
“I didn’t get to thank you back there. You know, for the present?” he spoke softly, giving her a rare smile. “It was real nice of you.”
She noticed the way his pupils were slightly wider than usual and his stance that seemed to swing back-and-forth ever so subtly. “Joel, are you…are you drunk?”
“It takes a lot more than a few bottles of IPA to get me there. I’m just fine.” he whispered, for what reason she wasn’t sure, then unexpectedly walked up the stairs to his bedroom. He didn’t leave her to contemplate her next actions for too long because he emerged not even a minute later, holding his right hand behind his back.
They found themselves standing closer than they should have, but neither of them seemed to care as Joel revealed the mystery object.
“Merry Christmas, (Y/N).”
It was the most beautiful edition of ‘Jane Eyre’ she had ever laid her eyes on. Red leather hardback with golden accents all over it, including the fore-edges, it looked like something out of a royal library.
“How did you know?” her question was vague, but she knew he knew what she meant.
“Sarah told me about the books that you like, said you haven’t read this one in a long time.”
Her warm embrace came to him as a surprise, but in the state of mind he was in, not only did he accept it, but it felt good, it felt right to hug her back.
“It happens to be one of my favourites, so thank you. Really. For all of the things you’ve done for me so far.”
The two held onto each other for longer than needed until Tommy’s call brought them back to reality. The other Miller eyed the returning pair suspiciously as they took their respective places on the couch and went back to watching the movie in comfortable silence. Only he noticed the red book in her possession and fought hard to stop himself from smiling.
Later that night, after all the dishes had been washed, the leftovers put away, and the only child put to bed, Tommy reluctantly sat in the back of the cab Joel had called for him. I am not fetching my brother from a jail cell on Christmas Day, he'd told him. When he walked back into his home, he saw a sleeping figure on the couch, covered by one of the throws.
He went into his bedroom and took no more than 10 minutes to replace all of his linen with fresh ones from the closet in the hallway. He wasn’t going to let his guest sleep on a couch, especially not under a row of windows or next to the entrance door. Carefully picking her up, and she was one deep sleeper, he made his way back to his bed to lay her down on the new sheets.
My extremities get cold easily.
He changed his usual blanket for a thicker one then grabbed a pillow and went to make his bed downstairs. He picked up the scarf lying on the coffee table once more and unfolded it entirely, only then noticing the tiny initials embroidered in grey into one of the ends – J.M. Upon an even closer inspection, he realised it smelled of vanilla and flowers.
————- ❈ ————-
masterlist: part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6
tags: @elliaze @joeldjarin
#joel miller fanfic#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller one shot#joel miller x reader#joel miller fluff#joel miller x fem!reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x you
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Peter Pan x Male!Demon!Reader
(Oneshot - REMAKE - NSFW WARNING)
≈6000 words
Peter Pan paylist for this fic:
-Here's to never growing up-
–Third pov
Y/N was an adventurous and rather young spirited demon. In search of self fulfillment, or happiness to keep it frank - he had traveled the fairytale forest, the realms of the giants, wonderland, modern world, and even storybrooke. Due to not being bound by the rules of human magic, he could simply portal himself anywhere he'd like.
Although he made many acquaintances and had many adventures he thought fond of, no place made him truly happy or satisfied. No matter what he did, deep down, he always felt a deep feeling of being lost. Having no true place to call home.
But after a year of adventuring, he had heard about a magical island called Neverland, that found itself in a whole new realm he hadn't seen before. Having heard words or rather, rants, from a certain chubby man with a red cap named mr. Smee..
The man spoke of a group named the Lost Boys, their fearsome leader Peter Pan, the magic there, a banished green fairy, and the some-wicked-some-kind mermaids.
It intrigued him so much he decided to travel there despite its nefarious reputation.
However once he got there he decided to use his magic while levitating around, just to see how this place’s energy worked for him.
That caught the leader Pan's attention. As Pan and his lost boys approached him with much disdain, Y/N tried to act as if he wasn't the powerful demon that he was.
Knowing what he knew about Pan is that he was quite full of himself and proud of his power. He figured that now revealing to Pan that he was equally if not outmatched by him would only cause Pan to feel threatened and scornful.
Pan’s lost lost boys tried to attack him, but it was no use, it was almost as if he was made out of invincible steel. That was however, Y/N using his powers, unbeknownst to them, not to Pan however who seemed to have already had an idea of what he was. Now knowing their attacks were of no use, Pan decided to simply capture and imprison the demon boy who did not seem to fight back at all.
Despite Y/N possessing the ability to wield incredible power, Y/N was most intrigued by Pan. So much so, that despite not liking current affairs, he'd bear with it for the time being. He'd figure that Pan would turn around with the means of his inevitable charm. He also found Pan quite good looking and as he was escorted into the woods of Neverland he was very amused and cracked various jokes and clever flirtations towards Pan. Which however, Pan did not seem to dislike. He'd even seemed more smug about it. But the lost boys were stunned by it, it was extremely unusual and odd for a prisoner of Pan act this way.
– Y/N’s pov
I was not exactly a happy demon when Peter Pan captured me on the island. I had trespassed the place according to him and had now found myself in one of his enchanted cages. At least, that was the reason he told me. However I was quite entertained by this debacle, not to mention that Peter wasn’t bad to look at, at all.
"Well this is a most unpleasant welcome." I scoffed jokingly.
Peter Pan leered at me through the bars of my cage. "Well, aren’t you the audacious one. I don't take kindly to invaders here on Neverland. However demon, I do hope you enjoy your stay in this cage for now."
I rolled my eyes. "Kind as you are, I don't think I'll be confined for long. Alas, there's always a way out of a trap." I replied with a mischievous and challenging glint in my eyes.
To which Pan chuckled darkly. "Oh, I wouldn't count on it so confidently if I were you. You'll find that things here in Neverland work quite differently than wherever you're from. No one here, leaves, without my permission.” Peter paused for a moment, staring me down menacingly. “But for now, goodbye demon.." Pan deviously purred as he vanished right after darkly telling his blonde accomplice to: 'hang me over there next to the other one.’
It didn’t take long before the tall blonde bastard grinned satisfied next to his fellow lost boys as my cage elevated high up in a high tree.
Well this certainly wasn't how I planned the beginning of my great adventure to another realm..
I deeply inhaled as I floated around in my cage brainstorming on how to escape the contrapped nightmare I was in.
Although I wasn't able to escape initially, due to Pan’s using blood magic; when I used my knowledge of magic to my advantage I found a loophole - I switched consciousness with a tragically ugly cat that was walking around and managed to get out of the cage as an animal.
– 3rd POV
When Peter Pan caught wind of this, he was furious. However, his anger turned to intrigue when he realized what Y/N could do with his abilities. He knew he had underestimated the lad on that fateful day they met.
Deciding that Y/N would be more useful as part of his Lost Boys rather than kept in a cage. And so, Pan made the decision to make Y/N one of them, that is of course, if he made it through the initiation. But something in Y/N's eyes told him that he would.
After retrieving Y/N back in his own body, he approached him. A wicked grin spread across his face. "I could use someone like you in my band of merry misfits." His hand extended towards the demon boy, fingers curled into a fist. "What do you say?”
This intrigued Y/N. A brand new adventure? He couldn’t say no to that. And by the looks of it he didn't think he had a choice either way, so he agreed to it. "Alright." He said bluntly.
“Splendid!" Peter's grin widened as he took Y/N’s hand in his. Power seemed to radiate from his touch, electrifying you with excitement and domination in equal measure. "Welcome." His voice was low, almost whispering.
A wave of heat ran over from where their hands connected. "Thanks," Y/N said, feeling somewhat overwhelmed.
Peter Pan released the demon boy’s hand, stepping back and looking at him with sparkling eyes. His presence was electric, charged with a wild energy. He seemed to radiate an aura of danger, but there was something compelling about him, a magnetism that draws the lost and the lonely. He eyes the smaller boy down, he looked enchantingly pretty, and he had a strong aura, although the boy didn't quite seem aware of it.
"Now that that's been settled. I'm Peter Pan. What is your name, boy?" He asked curiously.
Y/N blinked twice. He was pretty nervous due to his apparent attraction to Pan. His features were so gorgeously combined, it had really struck him. "..My name's Y/N" He replied rather aloof.
Peter Pan's grin grew wider, his eyes twinkling with amusement and interest. He stepped closer, their bodies almost touching again, the air around them crackling with anticipation. "Well, Y/N," he began softly, his voice a seductive whisper, "I trust you'll find adventure here with us, that is, if you complete our initiation tonight." All lost boys were accepted based on if they heard Pan's flute. Only the lost or unloved could hear it.
"Initiation? What should I imagine by that?" The boy asked confused and slightly off guard.
Peter Pan's eyes glinted with amusement. He loved seeing the confusion on Y/N's face. It was like watching a puppy try to understand a magic trick. “Oh, nothing too frightening,” he assured him, his voice dripping with wicked charm.
"Alright.." Y/N replied with a hint of wariness.
As Y/N mingled with the rest of the lost boys he had quickly acquainted some. The way he fit in with the other boys made it apparent he would most likely get through the initiation.
Besides, he easily charmed the other boys. Apart from being nervous around Pan, he was a daring kind of boy. A kind the other lost boys could quickly get along with, and felt comfortable being around.
After a day of exciting games, nightfall had fallen, and the party of his initiation had begun. Festive drums and flutes could be heard and the other boys danced wild & free. Y/N however was talking to two lost boys named Devin and Felix who tried to convince him to dance
Peter Pan watched as Y/N mingled with the other Lost Boys. Y/N was indeed a charming one, capable of capturing the hearts of others effortlessly. As the drums and flutes grew louder, so did the excitement. Pan decided it was time to make his presence known and play the melodic tune on his magical flute.
Y/N suddenly heard the new instrument mingling in with the drums and flutes. It was so trancing that he lost all that grounded him, he joined Felix and Devin in the circle of dancing lost boys. Y/N's dance fit in well with some of the more acrobatic boys. It was clear, he was a lost boy through and through.
“Ah, the beauty of youth and freedom." Pan whispered under his breath, watching Y/N dance. "He truly belongs here." Peter Pan couldn't help but watch Y/N, his gaze lingering on the boy's lithe form. He was captivated by his energy and enthusiasm, admiring how effortlessly he seemed to blend in with the other lost boys.
After a while, Pan decided it was time. He stopped playing his melodic tune. And that's when all the boys regained their consciousness. "Bravo, Y/N!" Peter Pan called out, drawing the boy's attention to himself. The others fell back, making room for their fearless leader. "You dance like the wind, i am impressed." Pan appeared before him, offering a graceful bow. "Welcome to the Lost Boys, my newest recruit.”
Y/N was stunned about what had just occurred. It all felt so unreal, yet he felt enormous joy, unlike he's ever felt. "Thanks Pan." Y/N said calmly with an ever so slight smile.
Now that the new recruit was officially initiated the drums and flutes started playing again as the boys around them cheered and grabbed the new lost boy to join them all for a final round of dance around the bonfire.
Pan grinned, his eyes twinkling in the flickering light of the bonfire. "Now, let's show our new friend what we do best!" He called out, leading the charge into another round of their frenzied dance. Pan grinned widely, watching Y/N blend seamlessly into the chaotic dance. He moved gracefully through the crowd, his laughter contagious as he danced circles around the bonfire.
After a long time of joyous dancing and partying, Pan's accomplice and now Y/N's new friend led him to his sleeping hut. "So.. Most of us sleep in huts like these, but some of us build treehouses to stay in. I can help you make one starting tomorrow if you want. But for tonight, you can join mine. Most new recruits sleep on the ground but I like you, so I don't mind having you over man." Felix said upbeat.
The next few days Y/N trained with the other lost boys. Being a demon it gave him an advantage to excel at those activities.
But alas, the flying demon proved to be a little too headstrong and rebellious for Peter's liking. Only playing pranks on Peter. Little did Pan know all that was because Y/N liked him and just loved his reactions. At first Pan put up with it, and simply pranked him back.
But after Y/N joked about Peter to one of his fellow lost boys, Pan had had enough and decided to teach him a real lesson.
Even if what Y/N did was technically harmless, Peter Pan still had a reputation to uphold as the fearsome leader of all the lost boys.
Taking Y/N into the center of the island, Pan humiliated him by hanging him upside down from a tree for everyone to see for a whole week.
Despite Y/N having been able to escape if he wanted to, he still wanted Pan to like him. And a part of him was entertained by it all, hence he gracefully sat out his punishment.
But while this punishment may have proved effective on anyone else, it had little effect on Y/N. He remained the fearless free spirit that he was. Plus this was only a win for him, he got a reaction out of Pan.
And so, Peter Pan began to punish Y/N's recently-made lost boy friends instead of him. Making him isolated from all the other boys since they did not want to be punished by Pan like Y/N's friends. Y/N however, didn't mind this and only caused more trouble now having no one to hold him back.
It was beginning to really hit Pan that all Y/N’s troublemaking was aimed at him. It was already clear to him that Y/N was attracted to him, so he finally put two and two together and realized where Y/Ns relentless teasing and troublemaking was coming from. It was textbook ‘I have a crush on you’ behavior from a guy. The cute boy was desperate for his attention.
And so, feeling his other efforts were futile, Pan came up with a new plan of action - rewarding Y/N for good behavior instead of punishing him. He began to show Y/N personal attention in the form of kissing and flattery, painfully aware of the latter's attraction towards him. And if Pan was honest, he enjoyed these interactions as much, if not a little more, as Y/N did.
And before long, Peter Pan started to want a little more than just kisses and alone time with Y/N. In an effort to also bring the boy into further submission, he planned to make the ever so willing demon have sex with him. And so he proceeded to approach him in his treehouse at night.
Peter Pan smirked, his eyes glinting with a mix of anticipation and control. He knew Y/N was down bad for him, and he intended to use that to his advantage.
Y/N, being the light sleeper that he was, opened his eyes, sensing a presence entering his tree house. He swiftly got up and got in stance, preparing himself for whomever it would be that dared to interrupt his precious sleep. Not knowing of course, that it was Pan.
Peter Pan chuckled darkly as he saw Y/N's reaction. "Well, well, look what we have here," he purred. "A spunky little lost boy who knows how to put up a good fight.”
Y/N abruptly untensed his stance and relaxed. "Oh. Pan, it's you. What could possibly bring you here this late? Is there something going on?" Y/N inquired, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh, nothing at all," Peter replied, his tone dripping with seduction. "I just thought we could spend some time together, you and I." He stepped closer, his eyes locked onto Y/N's. "Alone.”
Y/N's cheeks flushed. "Uh..What do you mean by that?" Already knowing the answer but wanting confirmation.
Peter Pan smirked wider, his intentions clear now. "I mean," Peter purred, his fingers trailing lightly down Y/N's chest, "I've been quite impressed with how well you've behaved lately. And I thought it was about time our relationship took more... intimate turn.”
"I..I see." His heart raced at Pan's lewd and sudden advances. Taking a step back from the taller guy out of nervousness.
Peter Pan's smirk turned predatory as he sensed Y/N's never seen before nervousness. "Oh, don't be shy now Y/N," he crooned, taking another step forward. His hands moved to Y/N's waist, pulling him closer. "I thought you liked me." Pan said, feigning a hurt and innocent expression. Just to get Y/N to say exactly what he wanted to hear.
"I do like you. It's just.. I'm not experienced at this. At all." Y/N admitted, unknowingly taking the bait.
Peter Pan chuckled softly, "Ah, sweet innocence," Peter cooed, his grin widening. "Well Y/N," Peter said, leaning in closer still. "I think it's time we fixed that, don't you?" His lips brushed against Y/N's in a soft, teasing kiss.
"Just relax," Peter whispered against Y/N's lips. "Let me show you how it's done." His hands slid up Y/N's sides, tracing patterns on his skin as he deepened the kiss. Peter Pan's hands moved up to cup Y/N's face, deepening the kiss. His tongue teased the outside of Y/N's lips, seeking entrance.
As Peter Pan's tongue delved into Y/N's mouth, his hands moved down to Y/N's chest, tracing patterns on his strong torso. He moved one hand to Y/N's stomach, drawing close so his fingers grazed Y/N's nether regions underneath the oversized shirt he would wear to bed. Granting both his hand, and later his business, easy access to him.
Y/N moaned into the kiss as Peter's tongue danced with his own, eagerly returning the other's affections. He felt a shiver run down his spine as Peter's hands teasingly brushed more against his crotch.
Feeling the response, Peter Pan deepened the kiss further, his hand gently massaging Y/N's arousal through the fabric. His other hand moved up to caress Y/N's neck, fingers entwining with the hair at the nape.
Y/N panted into the kiss, his body responding to Peter's touches eagerly. He could feel himself becoming more and more aroused under Peter's ministrations.
“Mmm," Peter hummed, kissing Y/N deeply as his fingers found the hem of Y/N's shirt. With a swift motion, Peter lifted the shirt over Y/N's head, revealing his naked torso.
"Aren't you cute" Peter purred satisfied as he eye-fucked Y/N's exposed body to which the smaller boy's body trembled in anticipation.
"That's it," Peter whispered against Y/N's lips before pulling back in, his hand sliding down to undo Y/N's underwear. "Let go, and let me take care of you." Peter whispered into the kiss. With that, he gently pushed Y/N back onto the bed, following him down and continuing to kiss him passionately.
Hmm, you feel so good," Peter murmured, his fingers working at the button of his own pants. As soon as it was undone, he pushed the pants down, exposing his hard cock. Gaining a small gasp from the smaller boy, smirking at the boy's impressed reaction. Only to then start grabbing Y/Ns crotch again and slowly rubbing and squeezing it.
Y/N moaned into the kiss, feeling Peter's cock against his leg. He arched into the touch, needing more as Peter's fingers teased his bare bits.
"You like that?" Peter whispered, smirking into the kiss. He groaned softly as he continued to tease Y/N's entrance with his fingers.
Y/N whimpered, nodding against Peter's lips. He wanted Peter to take him, to claim him fully. His legs spread slightly, offering himself up to the older boy.
Peter smirked into the kiss, feeling Y/N's legs spread. He could feel the younger boy's need for him. He growled softly before pushing his hips forward, feeling the head of his cock press against Y/N's entrance. He took a deep breath before pushing slowly into Y/N's heat. It was a tight fit but felt so good.
Y/N gasped at the stretching sensation as Peter pushed slowly into him. He arched his back, pushing back against Peter, wanting him deeper.
Peter Pan groaned, feeling Y/N's tightness gripping his cock. He continued to push slowly, inch by inch, claiming Y/N's virginity.
Y/N bit his lip, feeling every inch as Peter filled him. It hurt a little but the pleasure was overwhelming. He gripped Peter's shoulders, holding onto him as he took the older boy's cock fully.
Peter Pan growled, feeling Y/N's tight heat wrap around him. He held onto Y/N's hips, slowly beginning to thrust, feeling the head of his cock rub against Y/N's wall with each deep thrust.
"Fuck, Y/N," Peter panted, eyes almost completely closed. "You're so fucking tight." His movements became more frantic as he lost himself in the sensations of Y/N's body moving beneath him.
Y/N moaned, his body responding to Peter's thrusts. He arched his back, pushing against Peter's hips, wanting more of the older boy's cock. "Peter," he whimpered, feeling himself growing closer to his first orgasm.
"Cum for me, Y/N," Peter groaned, picking up the pace, his thrusts becoming rougher as he felt Y/N's tight heat squeezing him.
"Ahh!! Peter!" Y/N cried out, his body tensing as he came hard around Peter's cock. He arched his back, feeling every muscle in his body clench.
“Fuck," Peter groaned, feeling Y/N's tight heat clenching around him as he thrust into the demon boy. He could feel his own orgasm building, his thrusts becoming harder and faster as he lost himself in the feeling.
“Peter!" Y/N cried out, his voice breaking as he felt Peter's cum filling him up. He arched his back, pushing against the older boy's hips, wanting to feel every last drop.
With a final, deep thrust, Peter came inside Y/N, filling him with his seed. His body shuddered with the force of his orgasm as he held onto Y/N's hips, their skin slapping together in rhythm with their breathing.
Y/N gasped, his body trembling as he felt Peter's cum filling him up. to the brim. It was an intense sensation, both painful and exhilarating at the same time. He lay there panting, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.
As their breathing slowed, Peter gently pulled out of Y/N, his softening cock slipping out of the tight heat. He leaned down, placing a tender kiss on Y/N's flushed cheek. "That was quite the experience, wasn't it?”
"Mhm.." Y/N agreed breathlessly. "I didn't know doing stuff like this would feel so good" He admitted bashfully
"Does that mean that you'll let me come back and play with you some more?" Peter asked with a wicked grin, his cock still hard and twitching slightly.
Y/N averted his gaze shyly. "I guess so.. "I want more." He admitted.
A triumphant smile spread across Peter's face. "Wonderful," he purred, leaning down to capture Y/N's lips in a passionate kiss. "I have a feeling we're going to have a lot of fun together.”
This arrangement of theirs ended proving to be an even more effective reward and slowly but surely, Peter began to crave even more from Y/N than he had initially foreseen.
During their adventures in Neverland, Y/N and Peter stumbled upon a plan for mischief.
"What if we replace Tinkerbell's fairy dust with something else?" Peter finished, grinning wickedly. They both shared a sinister laugh, their hearts pounding with excitement and anticipation.
"You know what I've got in mind, don't you?" Y/N said, licking his lips in anticipation. Peter just nodded in agreement as they exchanged a knowing glance before going about their mischievous plan.
As the sun began to set, casting an orange glow over Neverland, Y/N and Peter made their move. They crept silently through the forest, their hearts pounding with anticipation. Finally, they reached Tinkerbell's treehouse, their target within reach.
Carefully, they climbed up to the treehouse, avoiding any noise that might alert the fairy. Once inside, they found Tinkerbell's precious jar of fairy dust, shining brightly.
Are you ready for this?" Peter whispered, his breath hot against Y/N's ear. Without waiting for an answer, he reached out and scooped up some of the fairy dust, holding it tightly in his hand.
Y/N watched nervously as Peter began to replace the fairy dust with a substance they'd found earlier, carefully concealed in their clothing. The impostor dust was “practically harmless”, but it looked exactly like the real thing.
After ensuring that all of Tinkerbell's supply had been replaced, they climbed down from the treehouse, their hearts racing with excitement and anticipation. Now they just had to sit back and watch the chaos unfold.
As night fell, the inhabitants of Neverland who came to Tinkerbell for fairy dust began to feel the effects of the replaced substance. Instead of granting them flight or other magical abilities, it caused them to stumble, fall, and even become momentarily invisible.
“I knew I could count on you to help me with this, Y/N," Peter said, softly grabbing his face with one hand. "Now let's see how long it takes for everyone to realize it was us." They shared a wicked laugh, feeling untouchable in their mischief.
The very day after, they found themselves in the heart of Neverland, near the enchanted river where they often swam and played. As they splashed around, their laughter echoing through the forest.
Feeling more brave by the second, Y/N tentatively tried out a new position, straddling Peter's lap and leaning down to brush their lips together before trailing kisses along his chin and neck.
However, their play slowly turned to passion and they found themselves kissing and groping each other on the shore of the river. Their skin shimmered with water droplets.
Peter moaned in approval, his hands trailing up Y/N's wet back, gently gripping his hips as he pulled Y/N closer to grind against him. He growled softly, wanting more of Y/N's sweet, loving touch.
“Mmm, yes... harder," he whispered, urging Y/N to move rougher against him. The sensations were overwhelming.
Peter arched his back, gasping in ecstasy as Y/N continued to give him everything he wanted. It felt so good, being touched and wanted like this. The two of them moved closer, lost in a world of sensation and desire.
And when the evening came, they cuddled on the rooftop of Pan’s treehouse. Which Peter held under the pretense of ‘being a reward for Y/N's good behavior that day’. But the truth was, that he just wanted to spend time with Y/N. Which made him wonder if Y/N felt the same.
As they gazed at the stars on the roof of Pan's treehouse, Peter looked deeply into Y/N's eyes. "Y/N?" Peter whispered, his voice barely audible in the darkness. "Can I ask you something?”
"Do you... like being with me?" Peter asked, biting his lower lip nervously. He couldn't believe he was actually asking this question - it felt so vulnerable. But he needed to know where he stood with Y/N.
"I do. There isn't anywhere else I'd like to be than here at Neverland. And it's all because of you." Y/N replied earnestly. A bit nervous of Pan's impending reaction to this however.
"Really?" Peter asked, his heart swelling with joy at Y/N's words. He leaned in, pressing his lips softly against Y/N's. "I'm glad," he whispered, feeling a rush of happiness and contentment wash over him.
It became clear to Peter that the feelings he had for Y/N were far more than just him being a useful and powerful asset amongst the Lost Boys or just being nice to look at. No, it had developed to something more in depth.
So, late, on an ever so clear and warm night, Pan decided to seek Y/N out. Not being able to hold these feelings he had to himself for any longer.
Y/N was sitting at the beach with his two latest befriended fellow lost boys, Devin and Felix. They had a bottle of rum with them and laughed as they talked about the most nonsensical things. And while the two other boys were completely hammered, Y/N of course, was still sober due to his high tolerance. It didn't take long before the two guys fell asleep right next to the bonfire. Which left Y/N on his own. Which Pan deemed as the perfect opportunity to have a heart to heart with Y/N.
"Good evening Y/N, mind if I join you?" He asked rhetorically. Sliding up next to Y/N, Peter gazed out into the ocean for a moment before turning back to face him. "I wanted to talk to you about something... important," he said quietly, his heart racing as he stared into Y/N's eyes.
The demon looked at Pan curiously. "Oh, what would that be?" He asked hesitantly due to Pan's unusual serious and earnest tone.
"I... I think I might have feelings for you," Peter said softly, his face flushed with embarrassment. He couldn't believe he was admitting this, but the truth was too strong to ignore. "I've always found you attractive...But recently, I've fancied you as both a company and individual too.”
"Really? I'm highly flattered." Y/N paused for a moment. Trying to find the right words for his mutual fondness. "I must admit, I've been fancying you as well. Your presence both on this island as well as with me personally makes me very happy. And frankly, I definitely find myself with feelings for you too.”
Hearing Y/N's confession, Peter's heart soared. A mixture of happiness and surprise flooded his features. "Really?" He asked, then raising an eyebrow with a smug grin. "So it's mutual then." Peter Pan declared, a small smile maintaining on his face. Despite trying to put out his usual smug demeanor, he couldn't believe his luck. He reached out, gently tracing his fingers along Y/N's jawline. "I'm glad it is.”
After that heartfelt conversation. Pan gradually started to become even more possessive and tender towards Y/N, as his feelings slowly began to transform into something far more serious and romantical.
Another time, they found themselves in the lost boy lair, dancing around a bonfire with the company of Y/N's fellow Lost Boys as per usual. As they spun and laughed together to drums and Pan's hypnotizing melody on his flute. Peter couldn't help but be reminded again of how well Y/N fit into his world.
Amidst the playful chaos, Peter managed to steal a moment alone with Y/N. He grinned, his eyes sparkling mischievously in the flickering firelight. "You know," he began, his voice low and teasing,
"There's still one more thing I want to show you." With a wink, he reached over, snatching Y/N's hand.
“Come on, let's see if you can keep up." And with that, Peter led Y/N on a daring chase through the trees, laughing and screaming as they raced from branch to branch. Y/N followed willingly, trusting Peter completely.
Finally they came to a stop, standing on a high branch overlooking the sleeping Lost Boys in their hammocks. Peter turned to Y/N, placing both his hands on Y/N's cheeks tenderly, looking deeply into his eyes. "Do you trust me?”
Before Y/N could respond, Peter leaned in, pressing their lips together passionately. Their kiss was filled with desire and longing, a testament to the bond they'd formed in this magical world.
As the kiss deepened, Y/N found himself lost in the passionate embrace. It seemed as if the entire world had disappeared, leaving only the two of them in a cocoon of desire.
When they finally pulled apart, both boys were breathless. Y/N looked into Peter's eyes, feeling an intense connection he'd never experienced before. "I trust you," he whispered softly, his heart pounding wildly in his chest.
"Good," Peter replied, his voice husky with both desire and affection. He leaned in close again, nuzzling Y/N's neck. It warmed his heart that the demon he so fondly liked, trusted him. And for as much as he was capable of it anyway, he trusted the demon boy too.
After that, they were seen walking back to their home base, hands entwined, still catching their breath from their passionate encounter. As they strolled, they couldn't help but smile at each other, their connection growing stronger by the minute.
Things started to progress a lot more from there. They spend a lot of time together and one thing became clear to Peter, he wanted Y/N here forever.
Months went by, and Pan's feelings had only grown deeper for Y/N by the day. He couldn't help but want to be near him and follow him around as much as his villainous duties allowed him too. He loved how Y/N flattered him, looked at him, touched him and didn't feel intimidated by him, and in a weird way, they complimented each other. Y/N was a very fearless and stoic guy who was much like him when it came to being mischievous, yet he also had a gentle, caring and reliable side. And those very traits slowly developed in Pan towards Y/N as well.
So, on a warm and lovely evening he had requested for Y/N in his treehouse through the means of his loyal accomplice Felix. Y/N, of course being the eager man that he was towards Pan, came straight away.
He was delighted at the quick presence of his beloved demon. "Y/N, you came straight away. I'm flattered." Pan replied flirty. He couldn't help it, Y/N just brought that out in him.
Y/N smiled with a glint in his eyes. "How could I not? Look what i have here waiting for me" He bashfully looked into Pan's eyes then down to his lips and repeated that.
Pan smirked at Y/N's eagerness to him. "Oh, you certainly do have me, Y/N," Pan purred, taking Y/N's face in his hands and pulling him closer for a deep, passionate kiss.
Their tongues danced together, exploring each other's mouths in a tender yet intense display of affection. Y/N's face burned brightly as he returned Pan's kisses. All the while affectionately holding his face.
As the kiss deepened, Peter Pan's hands roamed over Y/N's body, his touch possessive yet tender. He loved the feel of Y/N's skin against his own, the warmth that emanated from him. Pan then gently pulled back as his feelings for the latter overwhelmed him.
He knew it for sure. He loved Y/N. He looked intently into his eyes, those strikingly enchanting e/c eyes.
"Y/N, I love you." There, he finally did it, he declared his love to Y/N.
To Pan's displeasure Y/N wore a stunned expression. He was silent for a good 6 seconds.
Pan looked at him with pleading eyes. He hasn't been this vulnerable in a very long time, and he couldn't have been more terrified of Y/N's response.
"I... I just.. need to- think." Y/N staggered as he flew out the door.
Pan didn't even stop him. Y/N's response had stung him too much.
Effective immediately, severe precipitation befell Neverland. Pan's emotions heavily influenced the island - the weather being one of those things.
All soaked from the weather, Y/N had sought shelter in his hut.
He felt conflicted. Pan's sudden confession really caught him off guard. He knew he had feelings for Pan. But saying those 3 words of the heart scared him.
He had never dared to think Pan loved him, he always seemed so “above it” to him, but mostly he was just scared of rejection. Hence he had only tried to repress his love for him. Expressing it, never even occurred to him.
All kinds of thoughts stormed through his mind. Their relationship started off rocky, but Y/N couldn't deny things had developed a long way since then.
But even in this moment he couldn't help but worry for Pan right now. He didn't exactly give the 'response of the year' to his 'i love you'.
Y/N then realized that he was caring for Pan by feeling this way. Like he always did in the back of his mind. Not to mention Pan pretty much occupied his mind all together all of his days.
The way he craved his presence when he wasn't around. He told himself it was fine whenever it happened. But it wasn't. He needed him.
He always missed him when he was not around. He looked forward to seeing Pan after they would have to separate. And deeply treasuring every single moment they spent together.
Not to mention how he felt when Pan praised him, hugged him, kissed him or more.
He had been crazy for him all this time.
Y/N abruptly got up from his bed and took off to find the guy he loved.
When he arrived at Pan's hut the place was very much abandoned. Where could Pan be?
Y/N then remembered about Pan's beloved thinking tree. If he would be any place right now it would be there. Through the vicious rain he flew through the sky towards Pan's thinking tree.
– Pan's pov
There I sat, alone and drenched like a sodding dog in my thinking tree.
What was I thinking? Proclaiming my love so rashly? I've really let myself become weak. And for what? To make a fool out of myself? To have an aching heart? Maybe I was foolish to think Y/N and I could be more than what we were. Perhaps villains don't get to be loved after all..
I took a deep breath before planning to head back to my hut; when suddenly Y/N appeared before my eyes.
– Y/N's pov
After flying quick circles around the entire tree I found Pan sitting on a branch somewhere high near the very top of the tree.
I approached him and sat down on the branch before him. "Hey."
Pan leaned towards me on a branch just above my shoulder. "Let me guess, you've thought and you're here to tell me you don't love me. Spare me your pity Y/N. I was foolish, I know." Pan scoffed.
I shook my head. "No you weren't. I'm sorry for how I reacted. It's just.. It can be hard for me to translate my feelings to words or any sense. But.. that doesn't make them any less present."
Pan looks to where his hand is holding the tree branch above Y/N's shoulder then back to his eyes, "What are you saying Y/N?" He asked hesitantly. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. Was it possible? Was he saying what Pan thought he was saying?
“What I'm trying to say is, I love you Pan. More than anything." I confessed.
Pan's expression changed and his heart leaped into his throat before he spoke. This couldn't be happening. He looked up to Y/N with a mixture of shock and disbelief, "You... you truly love me?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper and his heavy feelings beginning to slightly wash away, causing the rain to also slightly clear up.
I decided my words weren't enough. So I took matters into my own hand and pulled Pan in for a deep kiss.
– 3rd POV
Pan hesitated for a moment as Y/N pulled back, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. He gazed up at Y/N's eyes then down to his lips and harshly pulled him back in for a new kiss, returning it with an intensity that mirrored Y/N's feelings. Their lips locked passionately, their hands finding solace in each other's presence.
-- Y/N's perspective
There we were, both soaked and making out in Pan's thinking tree, now knowing we loved each other. And all that we knew that awaited, was certain adventure.
-The End-
(perhaps..)
#peter pan#ouat#peter pan ouat#peter pan x male reader#peter pan x reader#robbie kay#peter pan pov#peter pan fanfic#peter pan once upon a time#Spotify
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GOS2 analysis: A New Hope (or… Guys, I think I cracked the ending !!!😳🤯)
SPOILER ALERT!!!SPOILER ALERT!!!SPOILER ALERT!!!SPOILER ALERT!!!SPOILER ALERT!!! (Even for those who watched both seasons several times!!!)
Hi! You are about to read a mixture between a theory and a revelation. Both could be figments of my mind making things up by dint of overthinking and overwatching (...is there such a thing as overwatching GO?) Anyway, I must warn you that if you DO see what I think I saw, the agony you endured for months (maybe you got used to it, maybe you befriended it, maybe you don’t want it to go), the excruciating pain that led you here, will come to an end NOW. For me, Good Omens is a work-of-art and NOTHING will take the passion/obsession away, trauma or no trauma. If you're like me, then read on!
Before I dive into the thick of the matter, allow me to stress a couple of things. I know you know, but this is still very important. Please, bear with me…
Aziraphale and Crowley KNOW each other.
They share a 6000 year-old friendship. Surely you experienced that, at least once in your life, with a long-time friend or partner: you finish each other’s sentences, you glance at each other and burst out laughing when nobody else understands why, you speak the same coded language that doesn’t even require words. That’s how close Aziraphale and Crowley are. Aziraphale can predict Crowley's every reaction. He knows how to manipulate him with just a pout or a frown. Crowley knows what makes Aziraphale tick. He knows what the angel holds dearest. He can figure out Aziraphale's state of mind just by listening to the TONE of his voice. He knows how Aziraphale SMELLS!
They also know WHO the other one is, I mean deep down, what they want and what they’re capable of…
Aziraphale and Crowley TRUST each other.
‘I could always rely on you, you could always rely on me.’
And
'You could have walked away'
'You said trust me'
'And you did.'
So on… you know all those lines by heart and I'm sure you could come up with oodles of examples.
Walls have ears(floors too).
Someone wrote somewhere (was that on Youtube?) that the 25 lazari miracle could have been performed by the Metratron, since the magic circle was once used to contact him and was probably never turned off properly afterwards. That's an interesting theory.
Personally, I don't believe the Metatron was involved in the miracle. I already elaborated about this in my first theory https://www.tumblr.com/imsickofpasswords/732879204359847936/a-theory-of-the-ineffable-plan-by and sort of got confirmation when Uriel asked what the miracle was and Aziraphale answered 'love, it was love!'
I nonetheless realized that the Metratron could indeed be using this channel to spy on Aziraphale. If so, since when? I don’t think it could be from the first time Aziraphale drew the circle, because Adam reset reality after that. Adam would have closed the portal, wouldn't he? Idk. My bet is the snooping began after the miracle, and the magnitude of the miracle is what scared the Metratron into trying to separate Aziraphale and Crowley.
Such considerations had me wonder if what feels like altered memories isn't actually the Metratron prying into Aziraphale's mind (indigovigilance from Tumblr pointed out that ALL the flashbacks seem to emanate from Aziraphale). Or maybe the Metatron has been reading… Aziraphale’s diary. (Btw, does anyone know what happened to that diary?) The Metratron does brag about looking back over Aziraphale's "exploits" (translation: infringements). Plural. So, not just stopping Armageddon? What else? Saving Job's children? Helping out Elspeth?
What's more, the Metatron compliments Muriel, the "dim one", on reading books. 'What a splendid thing to do!' and then he glares at the bookshop.
Aziraphale is not always Aziraphale
I don’t know about you, but I shriveled in horror when Aziraphale promised to give away a book. Had I just slipped into another dimension?
One perfectly acceptable explanation is that love is more important to Aziraphale than books. Fine. Why then does he only offer to LEND a book after Crowley pointed out how IMPOSSIBLE it is for the angel to even THINK of selling a book? In the novel, people who insist on buying books from Aziraphale’s shop go missing FOREVER…
It feels like the usurper realized they made a mistake and tried not to make it twice. Also, what's with the French? Aziraphale spoke French when he was in prison, and he certainly wasn't struggling like that. Last but not least, he does move his hands a lot, but not in the same fashion as he usually does. This was NOT Aziraphale (I think).
We saw how supernatural beings can change their appearance without swapping bodies. Shax changed her face whilst hitchhiking when she HAD NO REASON TO (Aziraphale had never met her before).
I believe the Metatron is the one who turned into Aziraphale. But just for a moment ( I burnt my eyes checking Michael Sheen's every facial expression and gesture and tone of voice throughout the entire season and I couldn't spot anything amiss outside that moment, let me know if I'm wrong). Just a short period of time, then. Why? To see if Crowley would fall for it. I don't know if our beloved demon did.
The obvious objection to this theory is: surely the real Aziraphale would realize that some of his guests had already been invited by… HIMSELF? Well, Nina kept Crowley for a moment. We don't know that the Metatron didn't go around erasing people's memory of him.
Ok, okay, admittedly, it is far-fetched, probably complete bullshit. But I needed to mention this because it's also a part of how I interpret the ending. Nope! I'm not saying the Metatron is the one who got kissed by Crowley!!! That would be… OMG, 🤮
The bullet trick…
Aziraphale is a magician. And his magic seems to always work when he needs it most, providing he uses this formula:"banana, fish, gorilla, shoelace with a dash of nutmeg” the magic words that Mark Gatiss as a zombie reads from the angel's lips.
And there it comes, the showstopper. Actually the "REHEARSAL of the showstopper", as I call it, and you’ll find out why very soon. Please, pause here and go fetch the scene, you’ll need to watch CAREFULLY. See how scared Crowley is when Aziraphale hands over the gun? Crowley is maybe wondering why the miracles aren't working and if he is not about to actually kill his only friend. Then, Crowley mutters something. No idea what, but something like, I can't do it. And Aziraphale, reading his lips, replies in the same fashion, lipspeaking. Whatever the angel says then, Crowley understands it, and it's enough for him to overcome his fear.
The ACTUAL showstopper.
I think you got it by now: what I thought when I saw that, and what I wanted to do next. I didn't rush to the last episode although I was dying to. I didn't want to miss anything and I couldn't believe what I expected would actually happen. But it DID.
The Metatron knows that people are predictable and that nobody ever chooses death over coffee. We don't see his entire conversation with Aziraphale but even if the Metatron doesn't flat out threaten to erase Crowley's name from the Book Of Life, Aziraphale is very aware that this is an option as Michael already said she was given permission to do so. Check Aziraphale's face the minute the Metatron mentions Crowley. Aziraphale hears the threat loud and clear. His face goes grim. He knows he doesn't have a choice but to play along if he's going to save Crowley.
"Go tell your friend the good news!"
Aziraphale smiles, but he is distraught and terrified. The ineffable husbands KNOW each other, remember? There’s no way Aziraphale thinks Crowley will follow him to heaven. Besides, Aziraphale is INTELLIGENT. He knows The Metadick (whoever invented that name, I love you) doesn’t want Crowley back. So all the pleading, come with me, to the light, we'll be doing good, yada yada… is FAKE. All Aziraphale wants when he enters the bookshop is to let Crowley know about the situation without raising suspicions from the Metatron who is watching from outside. That's why the angel keeps glancing at the window whilst using his "something is wrong voice". Now, dear reader, fellow victim who cried your eyes out for months, if you still have eyes, LOOK AGAIN.
When Aziraphale starts to talk about the offer, Crowley frowns, not in disbelief or in anger but in intense focus on… Aziraphale's lips. Can you see them? The SILENT words at the end of the sentences? Tell me you see them too. Please. You do, right? Or do I need to seek help?
Everything after that, every line, is a smoke screen meant for the Metatron (and poor us…) The Metatron is to believe that two lovers got into a fight and got torn apart. Even angels and demons are predictable!
The kiss, of course, is a mean to conceal the moment when Crowley extracts himself from the timeline, taking Aziraphale with him so they can discuss away from prying eyes and ears. Hence the missing fifteen minutes on the clock. 🙂
I think Crowley's confession was genuine. But it was also there to make the fight more convincing. And no one here will say it wasn't convincing… My guess is there must have been another confession, maybe another kiss? A real, tender, passionate, romantic, heart-wrenching kiss that left Aziraphale pressing hard on his lips, aching for more. “Do it again.” But the Metatron would notice… so… "I…forgive you", you foul fiend who thought you could tempt me with such a lowly, dirty and pathetic trick (translation, I love you… and I don't want to leave you, go before I burst into tears, I don't have sunglasses…)
So. They didn't fight!!!! They are still a team, a group of two, a couple, and more than ever!!
Not done yet. There is one last thing that you saw. When the Metatron reveals his plans about the Second Coming, Aziraphale pauses before entering the elevator. And it may last less than a split second, but I can swear that his lips moved again as he was staring at Crowley. Someone crossed the street right after, but Aziraphale kept looking at Crowley although the camera was too far for us to see the lips. However, there was enough time to convey a lot of information.
Now, did they swap? Aziraphale doesn't gesture much after the kiss. Crowley drives under the speed limit and for the first time while Crowley is driving, Queen isn't playing. But. Aziraphale is walking away from his friend-now-lover, not knowing if he actually saved him, or… knowing that he did NOT save him. Crowley is crushed, and probably worried sick about Aziraphale walking alone into an obvious trap. The demon can remember only too vividly how Heaven wanted to end Aziraphale.
The Bentley is sad too, and not just because her master is. She (Yes, she!) grew feelings for Aziraphale, who allowed her to wear fancy yellow and took her to an exciting trip and managed to have her play something new… She likes him so much that she tries to follow him, like a puppy, remember? I think she's the one who played the Nightingale song, to comfort Crowley and herself. As Sendaraya predicted in one of her YouTube videos, we may find out later that this was the Ineffable Husbands' song, ever since 1941, when their relationship started to drift towards romance.
Last but not least, the main reason why I don't think they swapped. I firmly believe the Metatron is planning to wear Aziraphale's face again. Metasick has unresolved issues with Crowley who, annoyingly, still retains some of his memories. Memories that may have become indelible because of Aziraphale's presence. But of course, to impersonate Aziraphale, Crowley's soft spot and only weakness, the Metatron needs to keep Aziraphale out of the picture…
To be continued… (Season 3!!! And for the record, great pustulent mangled bollocks to the ones who delayed it, and I'm NOT talking about the writers and actors…🤬)
Thanks for reading^^
#aziraphale#crowley#neil gaiman#good omens#cracked#ending explained#aziracrow#metatron#last fifteen#theory#ineffable husbands#ineffable partners
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Hurt/Comfort fanfic recommendations
A late night by wilywitchwahoo G, 400 words, h/c, insecure aziraphale, crying
Crowley comforts his sad angel.
Your warmth is all I have by katterv T, 900 words, physical injury, mild blood, (gorgeous) fanart included
Aziraphale is hurt, unconscious and so, so cold. Crowley hates it.
Morning Glory by HopeCoppice T, 1k, hurt/comfort, gender dysphoria, body dysmorphia, genderfluid crowley, fem-presenting Crowley, insecurity, body image
Crowley wakes early; Aziraphale watches him worry.
Your Effervescent Tears Cleanse My Core by TotallySnowy G, 1.1k, panic attacks, cuddling, aziraphale needs a hug
It all started on a rather normal day in southeastern Londen, at specifically 4:05 AM in the morning, Aziraphale awoke with a start. Very, very peculiar for an angel, lest a nobel one at that. What was even more peculiar is that Aziraphale could feel his face become flushed. Quite peculiar indeed.
Evening Star by HopeCoppice T, 1.6k, insecurity, body dysmorphia, hurt/comfort, cuddling, non sexual intimacy, non sexual nudity
Aziraphale seems reluctant to join Crowley in bed, and Crowley is determined to get to the bottom of it.
All Good Hearts are Heavy by Sarah_hadeschild G, 1.8k, depression, depressed crowley, fluff, hurt/comfort, protective aziraphale
Crowley has always dealt with bouts of depression-- periods in which he cannot bring himself to do much more than exist. Over the centuries, he grew accustomed to enduring these episodes on his own. But now, Aziraphale is with him. And although the angel cannot miracle away his lover's distress, he can try the only remedy he knows with any certainty. He can love him.
Counting on your love by that_angels_demon T, 2.2k, insecure Aziraphale, body dysmorphia, kissing, making out, asexual relationship, non-sexual intimacy
Having finally confessed their feelings for each other after the (almost) Apocalypse, Crowley and Aziraphale explore the physicality they've always craved. But when long-internalized insecurities come to light, Aziraphale isn't so sure his demon will want this after all…
crack me open, feel me shatter by rattatatosk T, 2.7k, nightmares, Crowley’s fall, body horror, hurt/comfort
Crowley dreams of the Fall. Aziraphale is there to catch him when he wakes.
To Exist and Love by IneffableDoll T, 3.1k, hurt/comfort, acephobia, asexuality, south downs cottage, hurt crowley, ace affirming, fluff
Crowley runs into someone who says some bigoted nonsense about the asexual nature of his and Aziraphale’s relationship. It leaves him fuming, so when he returns home to his angel, they talk through it and navigate the complex feelings and hurts the interaction brings up.
Basically: A very ace-affirming spite fic.
Flight and Fight by Phantom531 T, 3.3k, panic attack, post season 2, hurt aziraphale, angry crowley, hurt/comfort, angst
Aziraphale has a panic attack and reaches for the only person he ever needed. Unfortunately, Crowley is still REALLY angry.
Crossfire by NuriaSchnee M, 4.7k, locked, post Armageddon’t, love confessions, hurt/comfort, showering together, non-sexual intimacy, first kiss
In which a shower can solve 6000 years of secrets and misunderstandings. Or: Aziraphale finally breaks down at Crowley's flat and Crowley takes care of him.
I Forgive You by Sparkling12 M, 6.3k, post season 2, hurt Aziraphale, aftermath of torture, hurt/comfort, love confessions, bathing, cuddling
Crowley taking care of his traumatised angel, while plotting revenge on Metatron.
Part of a series: - I Forgive You
Come as you are by fruitygoblin M, 10k, body dysmorphia, insecurity, wall sex
Aziraphale visits a modern art gallery, goes on a diet, and submits to the mortifying ordeal of being known. Not necessarily in that order.
Everything I've Had by AppleSeeds M, 12k, human AU, chronic illness, chronic pain, hurt/comfort, bathing/washing, domestic fluff, childhood friends to lovers
After developing a chronic illness that leaves him unable to live alone, Crowley moves back home to London where he reunites with his childhood best friend Aziraphale. Aziraphale helps to take care of Crowley and keeps him company while he's in bed, bringing them closer together and reigniting old feelings.
Touch my Tears with Your Lips by IneffableDoll T, 27k, post season 2, season 2 fix it, hurt/comfort, understimulation, making up, trauma, touch starvation, south down cottage
In Heaven, there was nothing to touch.
Aziraphale re-tied the knot of his bowtie again and again and again.
He was alone, and nothing was real, and he was alone, and nothing was real.
#good omens#crowley#aziraphale#ineffable husbands#aziracrow#good omens season 2#good omens fic recs#good omens fanfiction
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number of unique chinese characters in a book
So there's this blog I read long ago on the number of unique chinese characters one uses. Say a person writes a 10k chinese novel. But how many characters are discrete?
Classical chinese poems and songs have me doubting my chinese ability as always, and that got me curious about how many chinese characters I know or write on a daily basis.
To answer this (and to very much knock my confidence like an idiot) I put together something to count the number of unique chinese characters in a passage. I use about... 2.8k characters in my general writing.
Then I wondered about the authors I read.
A quick search online suggests that a chinese user knows and uses 1000-3000 characters regularly, and after high school you are supposed to have taken in over 6000 characters -- something I'm pretty sure I didn't do.
That said, I got curious about the number of unique characters these authors I read usually use. That doesn't at all indicate writing competency, but well, it felt interesting regardless so I decided to go play with that a bit.
For reference, jinyong's wuxia novels are around 3.5k to 4.5k unique characters per novel.
you only need 2.5-3k characters to use chinese like natives do, it's not too much really!
methodology rambles feel free to skip to next heading
I recorded some numbers and figures for something to work with with works I enjoyed. Fanfics I also included, which I saved on my computer a long time ago.
I made attempts to analyse the data in a fairer way, looking at the total word count and the highest frequency of "的"s (a very common chinese particle, think the letter "e") used in the passage. That sort of helped, but at the same time there are always outliers that manage to muddle up understanding every single time.
So now, observations. I categorised them into four levels according to the number of unique characters, from lowest to highest.
observations
note: notable novels are highlighted in yellow for easy spotting, and fanfictions are shaded in grey. I added english titles for most of them because I didn't put them in when I first did the screencaptures.
first level: below 3.5k unique characters
Good authors don't always equate an extensive character set. Conversely, there are authors who basically cannot write well (subjective) and still end up with a surprisingly not-low unique character count.
Works like 靜影沉璧、瀟湘水冷、風骨同守 that adopted a more literary, classical chinese writing register had lower unique character counts than the others. This was not what I expected, considering these works were where I found most words I'm unfamiliar with and ended up questioning my chinese reading ability (sorry lol).
I was also surprised with 潭石、水千丞、覆水難收、木蘇里 (mu su li) because their writing are all pretty good, all achieved while using a much smaller lexicon range than what I've expected.
(不問三九 with good writing was also low and in this range, but I forgot to mark hers down so, shrugs.)
second: 3.6k to 4.5k characters
That said, some authors do typically reach a range of around 3.6-3.7k unique characters, which is a pretty wide character set. Supposing adding a book of an author increases the total number of unique characters the author has used, these authors tend to round up at around 4k+ words with 2-4 novels inputted.
With each book added, there would be an increase of a few hundred unique characters, but they tend to level off at about 4.3k etc., and that is likely their maximum unique character count.
Some do level off at around 3.7k though, which indicates a narrower range of lexicon employed.
third level: the weird level
weird because the unique character count increases by leaps and bounds with every new novel of theirs that I added, and we end up perplexed and baffled.
At around 1M to 1.5M words inputted from an author, I thought that the unique character count would be pretty steady already, similar to how the unique character counts for authors at the second level levelled off eventually.
That's not the case for these two authors here. It is perplexing because the settings of their books do not vary greatly, yet the choice of characters and words were, apparently, diverse enough to give a "forever"-going increase in unique character count with every book I added.
This category aggravates me so much I couldn't make head and tail of it honestly lol.
the final level: the eloquent and literate
Of course, in this world there are always very literate individuals, and verbose they may seem, some are good writers. Here are the authors who actually have a vast unique character range.
You may be wondering how this 3.7k differs from the ones in the second level, but bear in mind this is merely the result from a single work of the author, or that the author's book is, like, half the length of the other authors while achieving a far higher unique character count than others.
And there's meatbun at the top of the list; I used both 2ha and Yu Wu for her stats, but her 2ha alone was already higher than Royal Nirvana and any other book I tested, so she goes in this category.
And et voila. All of this may not make sense to you, I'm not even sure about how the reception of this would be, it was a passion project and an interesting evening that I had, and now that I have some (sort of subjective) results I hope to share it out. :)
feel free to hmu for peculiar thought experiments and discussions on this topic!!
this is a repost from another site. i have used too many a username, and am not ready to link together all of them yet (someday) -- if you recognise this and wonder, message me, that's probably another account of mine.
#danmei#chinese language#mxtx#2ha#language#linguistics#meatbun doesn't eat meat#meatbun#chinese#cnovel#fate's wonky thoughts#fate creates
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Good omens 2 SPOILERS BELOW!
Let's start off by saying that I never, EVER expected that we would get canon Ineffable Bureaucracy, but here we are, and I'm so happy about it. 🥹
Most importantly, I'd never expected Gabriel and Beelzebub to be a mirror of Aziraphale and Crowley's relationship.
In season 1, Gabriel was the absolute fucking worst.
Self-centered, lacking emphaty, superb, following Heaven's rules to the letter, without a single question, and putting his job as an Archangel (or well, the Supreme Archangel, as we've learned this season) above all else, not really thinking much about Earth, humanity or the opposition's point of view/emotions.
Not only that, but he stubbornly refused to enjoy the life Earth- or anything/anyplace else but Heaven, really- could offer him, in the material (food, music, material objects, ecc...) and emotional sense of the term too, depriving himself of real friendship and love.
Then, he meets Beelzebub in the pub and, for the first time, he feels understood. After 6000 years of bearing the sense of loneliness authority and responsibility imply, and being stuck in his own, bigoted head, he finally finds someone who gets him.
On the other hand, Aziraphale has always been a... peculiar angel, to say the least. He has learned to perfectly blend in with the humans, enjoy their creations and Earth's delicacies, such as food, good music, books, magic tricks, etc... not only that, he "associated" with Crowley, a demon/sworn enemy, since the very beginning!
In season 1, Aziraphale defied God's plan, prevented the Armageddon and disobeyed the Archangels' orders just to keep living on Earth and keep seeing Crowley. Albeit he refuses to acknowledge it, he is a rebel, way more than Gabriel's ever been in 6000 years.
And yet, which one of the two decided not to take Heaven's crap anymore?
Who said "You're casting me down to Hell? Fine, I accept my fate" peacefully, almost happily, knowing they'd finally be with their loved one?
Who ran off to Alpha Centauri?
Who gave up everything they've worked for, everything they've ever known, everything they've believed in?
Gabriel.
And Beelzebub, of course.
To say I did NOT see this coming at all is an understatement.
Gabriel, the one filled with so much prejudice, ignorance and selfishness- his royal smugness, Crowley's words- chose Beelzebub and their happiness over everything, over God, only truly knowing them for like... what, 4-5 years (which is the timeskip between season 1 and 2)?
Aziraphale, as heartwrenching as it was to see, chose Heaven over Crowley (FOR NOW). After a 6000 years-old friendship/relationship!
Perhaps, having been so "distant" from Heaven itself, Aziraphale still sees it as something that can be "fixed" if led by the right person/angel (while Gabriel, being so involved in Heaven's management for millennia, probably knows better in that regard, and basically said "fuck it"- I mean, we've seen Metatron and God's behaviour, eesh), plus he's plagued by the guilt and fear of being a bad angel, and risk to Fall.
I believe Aziraphale still sees being a demon as a bad thing, he has this internalized idea he has yet to let go of. And I hope season 3 (hopefully, we'll get it!) will cover that.
Long story short, I loved this season, and I loved how they incorporated Gabriel and Beelzebub in the story.
Some might say their romance was "too quick", and while I would've loved to see more flashbacks, I think it fits.
The Ineffable Husbands are a slow, slow slowburn, and Aziraphale truly needs a wake-up call, to see Heaven for what it truly is: toxic and rotten, as Crowley said.
On the other hand, I liked that Ineffable Bureaucracy happened so "fast"- it's a nice parallel. Gabriel and Beelzebub- people who could be so fierce, cold, nasty and closed-minded in the past- immediately saw the love they had for each other, accepted it and let it change them completely.
Let them both become so affectionate with each other, too. Like, "my sweet", "wherever Beelzebub is, is my Heaven", "where Gabriel is, is forever my Hell", "I was coming to you", "silly angel", are NOT something I thought I'd hear 'em say 😂
Nor I thought "Everyday" would be their song.
#good omens#good omens season 2#good omens spoilers#good omens season 2 spoilers#spoilers#ineffable husbands#ineffable bureaucracy#aziraphale#crowley#beelzebub#archangel gabriel#go spoilers
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The Marriage AU I promised you all! Get ready for lots of weddings and love and sappy behaviour! (Fine, yes, some angst too...)
Beneath The Newborn Stars, And Long After
Summary:
Aziraphale and Crowley loved each other long before the Beginning.
Unsurprisingly, Crowley's Fall changes nothing about that.
Or the 5 times over their 6000 years of shared history they got married.
Chapter 1/4: The Bible Didn't Mention Us (4004 B.C. to 2350 B.C.)
Excerpt:
"You are my Eden," he said, finally, the words no longer hesitant. Tinged with the same sort of love that he had discovered so very long ago, back when the universe had been nothing but stardust and hope.
Crawly shook his head. It would have made Aziraphale's newly formed heart stutter in his chest, except he was also smiling. A gentle smile, one the angel had seen so many times, reflected in the light of a newly formed star.
"I will be your Earth," Crawly said, inching forward. With each passing moment, his features were turning sharper, more serpentine. Aziraphale tried to bridge the gap between them, lay a kiss on each iridescent scale on that beloved throat but the demon twisted away. Subtly, a jerk of the chin more than anything else and yet Aziraphale understood. Waited patiently.
"The place where the Fallen meets the Angel. As equals."
#good omens#ineffable husbands#ineffable wives#gomens#good omens fanfic rec#good omens fanfic#aziracrow#aziraphale x crowley#6000 years of pining#and love#good omens au#my writing
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