caleb x non mc reader where he's so used to brats because of mc, but then there's you, kind and soft, never asking for anything but willing to always give. he starts to naturally gravitate towards you, like how a sunflower faces the sun. you're so sweet that he wonders if he's developing a sweet tooth like zayne's because he starts craving something sweet every single day or if he's developing some sort of heart disorder because his heart keeps aching around you, but he doesn't seem to mind the odd ache, seems to naturally welcome it even.
and then there's the cuteness aggression. for the first time, caleb can't stay composed, not around you. he just wants to pinch your cheeks, or squeeze you tight, or groan and moan about how adorable you are and it's criminal. plus, every time he's dramatic about it, you giggle, and he practically goes heart eyes and tickles you just to hear it more.
tldr: caleb thought he's a brat lover until he met you :p
note(s): the title is based off the frank sinatra song (creative, i know)
a bit of a self-indulgent fic on the eve of my big 21 hehe…
also a way of coping after getting amphoreus done in one sitting <///3
also also! reader is part of the astral express c;
warning(s): probably some ooc moments, major spoilers for all of amphoreus, canon divergent (?)
wc: 1.5k
to have the deliverer of okhema and the prince of castrum kremnos curled in your arms is a sight to behold.
light from kephale’s dawn device spills in from the balcony, painting the bed with an ethereal morning glow. mydei’s golden hair is framed loosely around his head—akin to a crown. his head rests on your chest, undoubtedly savoring the slow and steady beating of your heart.
phainon stirs on the other side of you, burying his head further into your chest. mydei grunts as phainon’s head knocks into his—drawing a sleepy groan from the deliverer.
you chuckle in faint amusement as mydei’s golden eyes crack open, darting to phainon with a glare. then, his gaze softens at the sight of you staring down at him.
“good morning…” you hum fondly, carding your fingers through mydei’s silky strands—the scent of pomegranate and honey sinks into your fingers. the prince huffs in response, eyes fluttering shut as he leans into your touch.
“morning…” he parrots gruffly, lifting his head to place a soft kiss on your palm.
phainon’s eyes finally open and he rolls off you to stretch his arms above his head. he drapes himself back over you and mydei, arms curling around your waist. his other hand seeks out mydei’s, interlacing their fingers with a content hum. “morning you two…” he murmurs, a sleepy smile on his lips.
you lean down to press a soft kiss to the top of phainon’s head in greeting, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and squeezing his bicep.
“it’s someone’s special day today,” phainon begins, cyan eyes beaming up at you. “did you have anything in mind for your birthday?”
you hum in thought, looking off to the side. to you, birthdays came and went—nothing too special, just a cupcake and a candle was enough. but ever since you joined the astral express, march 7th made it her life’s mission to go all out when celebrating your birthday.
“how about we head to aedes elysiae?” you propose.
phainon immediately shoots up at your words, face lighting up with glee. “if we head out now, we can make it by early action hour!”
mydei sighs, propping himself up with an arm. the sheets slip from his body, revealing his well-sculpted torso. “very well. though, let’s try to make it back before curtain fall hour. we do have our own gifts to give you, after all.” he murmurs, sending a look phainon’s way. the white-haired man stands from the bed with a pout, crossing his arms over his chest.
“right, of course. well, let’s get ready to go then.” phainon extends a hand towards you. you take it without a second thought, allowing him to escort you to the private baths within your shared home. mydei isn’t far behind.
after washing off and dressing for the day, the three of you hit the road towards aedes elysiae. phainon is as animated as ever, happily speaking of his hometown. you’ve visited aedes elysiae, of course. but ever since the defeat of the irontomb, all of amphoreus seemed to be restored inside ‘as i’ve written.’ even nightfall had returned back to okhema—without the threat of the black tide. it took everyone some getting used to. after all, night meant that they would be susceptible to attack. in a world without strife and constant combat, everything fell into place. however, even with the restoration of amphoreus, the people did not forget everything that happened. you know each of the chrysos heirs carried their own guilt, regrets, weights—even if that didn’t matter now, the scars of 33 million cycles would forever leave their mark.
eventually, the formal structures of the holy golden city give way to fields of reeds and sparse buildings. spurred on by the approach of his home, phainon takes you and mydei’s hands to bring you both into the sacrament courtyard.
the people in the village happily greet the three of you. phainon pauses here and there to speak with a few familiar faces and eventually, he brings the both of you to a flower stall. after trading a few coins with the vendor, phainon holds out a bundle of flowers to you—blue forget-me-nots, bright red pomegranate flowers, and a few reeds.
“for you, dawnlight,” phainon smiles, “and mainly because i was going to try and make you a flower crown… but i’ll admit, you make them better than me.” he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly as you take the bundle.
you chuckle at his words, cradling the plants close to your chest, taking care not to crush them. “thank you phai, let’s find somewhere to sit and i can make them for us, hm?” you turn to find somewhere to sit, but find that mydei is missing. a finger gently taps your shoulder, then, you see mydei behind you, a few pomegranates tucked against his arm and chest.
“i’ll peel these for us.” he nods, motioning for you to lead the way.
the three of you find a large tree to sit beneath, courtesy of phainon. you settle against the base of the tree, the bark cool against your skin, taking a moment to savor the shade. carefully, you undo the small twines around the flowers and reeds. your fingers begin to expertly weave the stems together. mydei sits on a nearby root and carefully splits a pomegranate open—staining the metal of his gauntlets a light shade of red.
phainon sits in front of you, hands atop his thighs as he watches you eagerly. you lower the half-woven flower crown with a soft chuckle. “here,” you hand him a few reeds and flowers. “i’ll teach you how to make them. so, you take the stems and…” you instruct phainon on how to weave the stems together, pausing every now and then to check on phainon’s progress.
a comfortable silence falls between the three of you, a gentle breeze rustling the fields of reeds and the leaves above. you glance up from your work, smiling fondly at the sight of phainon’s apt focus on the half-woven crown between his fingers. the tip of his tongue peeks from the corner of his mouth—and your heart melts. mydei gently calls your name, holding up a few seeds in his palm. you move to take some, but mydei pinches a few seeds between his fingers and guides them to your mouth. you blink in surprise—but quietly allow the prince to feed you.
phainon excitedly calls your name, holding up the flower crown in his hands. you look over to him with a fond smile, nodding in approval and lowering your body so phainon can place the crown on your head. carefully, you adjust the plants, looking between mydei and phainon. “how does it look?” you question.
if you could take a picture of this moment and frame it—you would do it in a heartbeat. phainon’s cyan eyes melt at the sight of you, his hand reaching up to adjust the flowers properly. beside him, mydei stills with another half-peeled pomegranate in his hand. his golden eyes scan over you—and he can’t stop himself from staring at your face.
“you look…” phainon trails off, suddenly finding himself at a loss of words.
“ethereal.” mydei finishes for him.
warmth rushes to your cheeks and you smile sheepishly. “you two would look way better.” you move to gently set the crowns on their heads, brushing away any hair that gets in the way. “there.” you declare, sitting back down.
mydei, the prince of castrum kremnos, sitting beside phainon, the deliverer of okhema, both crowned in blue, red, and reed blossoms. deciding this is too good an opportunity to pass, you fish out your phone and motion them close. carefully angling the device with the camera pointing at the three of you, you snap a few photos—mydei on your left and phainon on your right.
“is there anything else you wanted to do today?” mydei asks, peering at the photos over your shoulder.
phainon mirrors mydei’s actions, pointing and cooing at the few photos he enjoys.
you pause in thought, eventually shaking your head. “no, nothing in particular comes to mind. i’m enjoying myself regardless, though.” you tuck your phone away after sending the photos to their teleslates, taking to enjoying the moment with your two lovers. phainon leans back and drapes an arm over your shoulder, his hand resting idly on mydei’s bicep. mydei continues to peel the pomegranates for the three of you to share, occasionally feeding you and handing some seeds to phainon.
you and phainon engage in light conversation, with mydei listening and butting in every now and then. eventually, when mydei and phainon begin to bicker—over chimeras, you rest your head against phainon’s shoulder. a gentle breeze caresses your skin, lulling your eyes shut. a faint smile remains on your lips.
If its ok, I wanna request a qiu x reader (step 2) where reader keeps doodling qiu subconciously and they end up dropping one of their doodles somewhere, and qiu finds it :0 sorry if this is formatted wrong, ive never requested something before aaa!!!!
♦ Qiu finds MC's drawing of them ♦
►tags and warnings: GN reader, Step 2
► words: 1696 words
► A/N: I AM ALIVE I SWEAR
I promise I can still write more than just Shiloh brainrot!
► Masterlist
It wasn’t really on purpose.
MC was trapped in the clutches of a terrible art block. It had been weeks since they managed to draw something they were satisfied with, and the creative stagnation gnawed at them, leaving them restless. Then there was Qiu, sitting a few seats ahead, their messy hair carelessly tied into a crooked ponytail, soft features relaxed in quiet boredom. MC didn’t even realize they had started sketching Qiu until the drawing was done— their fingertips smudged with graphite as they blended the last of the rough shading into the pencil sketch.
It looked good. Far better than any of their recent, fruitless attempts at drawing. The creases on their baggy sweater and the small intricacies of their expression almost perfectly captured in their style.
Part of MC wanted to brag, to walk up to Qiu and show them the drawing as a triumphant declaration that their terrible, horrible art block was finally over. But as soon as Qiu’s gaze found theirs, those soft eyes blinking slowly, like a cat, and that small, smug smile appearing on their lips, far too pleased with having caught MC staring, MC knew they couldn’t give Qiu any more reason to tease them.
It’s bound to be just a one-time thing, anyway.
…
It wasn’t a one-time thing.
Drawing Qiu became muscle memory, in the same way that drawing hearts or five-point stars, the kind with lines in the middle, became after an eternity of doodling them on the edges of notebooks.
There was just something easy about it.
MC knew their neighbour so well that they didn’t even need a reference to capture the nuances of Qiu’s smile—the way the right side of their lips lifted just a touch higher than the left, the arch of their brows, or the slight widening of their eyes when surprised. It was effortless.
It becomes a warm-up exercise before the artist’s other drawings and a quick way to break the slump off art blocks, or even something mindless MC does in the middle of a particularly dull classes both share— they do suspect Qiu knew about those but never bothered them with requests to see the drawings, leaving MC to their quiet obsession.
What was embarrassing was how often they’d find themselves obsessing over the perfect way to angle their wrists to capture the sharp swoop of Qiu’s dark bangs to imply just the right amount of movement, or the fact that they filled so many pages of their sketchbook with studies of Qiu during ballet class that they had to replace it with a fresh one.
Their anatomy skills had improved dramatically in the meantime. But was it worth it, trading artistic growth for Qiu’s obvious disappointment when MC stopped letting them flip through their sketchbook? Or having to learn to draw things quickly and discreetly?
“You dropped a page.” MC says, flatly. Qiu is rummaging though their gym bag in search of their earphones, notepad hanging precariously in their coat pocket. “Again.”
By this point, Qiu had long given up on retrieving whatever papers they lost, but MC still informed them out of habit anyway. Despite their disinterest, Qiu’s eyes scanned the floor—until they paused, bending down to pick the page up.
The action immediately catches MC’s attention. It would usually take a lot of insistence for Qiu to bother, if they did at all.
"Started caring about the environment again?"
MC teased. Qiu just snickered, unfolding the page with a widening smile. A smile that grew into something MC could only describe as pure, unbridled glee. That’s when MC noticed the paper wasn’t the usual color, weight, or size. It was larger, thinner, and undeniably from MC’s sketchbook.
“I was wondering when you’d let me see these drawings,” Qiu said, turning the page to reveal one of MC’s most recent sketches—a detailed study of Qiu, brows furrowed in concentration as they scribbled in their notepad, done only a few hours ago, just before lunchtime. There were also smaller drawings on the margins done in a more simplified style, all of Qiu. "When did I become your muse?”
MC’s breath caught in their throat as Qiu held up the sketch, a wave of embarrassment hitting them so hard they felt they could drown in it. Their little habit was a badly-kept secret, but it doesn’t mean that MC was looking forward to being found out.
Regardless, the question hung in the air, and MC knew that there was no universe in which Qiu would let it go without satisfying answers
Each second MC passed without answering only made Qiu’s grin grow further, their warm brown eyes flickering between the sketch and the artist responsible for creating it, a glint of mischief dancing in them.
“You know,” they continued, voice light and playful, “if you wanted me to model for you, all you had to do was ask.”
“No! I wasn’t— It’s not like that!”
MC could feel the heat crawling up the back of their neck as they stammard, mind racing as they frantically searched for an excuse that would be any less mortifying than the truth.
Qiu’s smile softened, feeling bad for their friend’s embarrassment, even if they were having fun with their flustered reaction. Despite how much their personality had changed throughout the years, that was a small aspect Qiu would never be able to grow out of— despite their incessant teasing, they deeply cared for their neighbour, and didn’t like taking things too far for the sake of their comfort.
“Is that so?” they asked, the teasing edge in their voice giving way to something a little softer. "Because it seems like you’ve been drawing me a lot."
MC felt the weight of their own silence, the silent, embarrassing admission that came with it.
Drawing Qiu had become a part of their routine. A habit, an easy way to keep up with their goal of drawing every day.
“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” MC finally said, pushing through their mortification to grant Qiu their answer. They glanced down at their hands, fingers still smudged with graphite, as if the evidence of their fixation was written all over them, taunting them. “I just… you were easy to draw. You’re always around, and I—” They paused. I can’t stop thinking about you. The words linger, right on the tip of their tongue. “I guess it just… happened.”
The playful gleam in Qiu’s eyes is replaced by something tender, a warmth they knew all too well.
“You know,” Qiu said slowly, carefully, as if trying not to spook them “I don’t mind being your muse.”
MC blinked, caught off guard by Qiu’s sincerity. They looked up, meeting Qiu’s gaze fully, and for the first time in a long time, there was no playfulness or carefully feigned disinterest in their eyes. Just warmth.
“You don’t—” MC began, stammering, struggling to find the right words, “you don’t think it’s… weird?”
“Why would it be weird? You’re an artist. Artists need inspiration, right?” Qiu glanced down at the sketch again, running a finger gently over the paper, careful not to smudge it. “And I’m honored. I don’t think I’ve ever been someone’s inspiration before. Much less to my favorite artist”
Somehow, MC doubts that. Judging by Qiu’s popularity in town, having been the crush of at least half of Golden Grove’s kids within their age group, they have absolutely zero doubts that Qiu has been the source of many ‘a angsty poem scribbled in someone’s diary.
Regardless, they felt their chest tighten at Qiu’s words, eyes widening as their mind replays the dancer’s words, over and over. They were Qiu’s favorite artist? Qiu didn’t mind being drawn?
That fills them with much needed relief, the tension from their body slowly dissipating.
“I’m not sure how much of an inspiration you really are,”
MC muttered, trying to deflect some of the intensity of the moment with humor, but the warmth in their voice betrayed them.
“Oh, come on. I’ve clearly been *very* inspirational.” Qiu gestured at the sketch in their hand, then raised a brow. “How many of these are there, anyway? Ten?”
“…More.”
“More? Seriously?”
MC couldn’t help but smile now, the absurdity of it all catching up with them as they shake their head, disappointed at themselves.
“Uh, like, a lot of my last sketchbook? It’s just… you’re always around, and you’ve got this…” They gestured vaguely at Qiu, trying to find the right words. “This vibe. You’re fun to draw.”
Qiu raised an eyebrow, leaning in, invading their personal space enough that they could smell the subtle scent of cinnamon from their shampoo, voice dropping to a playful murmur.
“Easy, huh? So you *have* been staring at me a lot.”
MC rolled their eyes, shoving Qiu lightly, but there was no malice in it. It’s true, as much as they hated to admit it, they had observed the dancer so much as to be able to draw them from memory.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,”
But Qiu just smiled, softer again.
“I’m flattered,” they said, their voice gentle. “Really.”
MC didn’t know what to say to that. There was a lump in their throat, an unspoken understanding passing between them that felt both overwhelming and comforting. They had known each other for years by that point, after all, but In that moment, something shifted. The awkwardness, the teasing, even the embarrassment—it all melted away like snow in spring time, leaving behind only the quiet connection between them. Their unbreakable bond. It was comfortable in the way few things are.
Qiu handed the sketch back to MC, their fingers brushing for just a second felt almost electrifying. Has it always felt like this?
“Keep drawing me,” they said, voice quiet but resolute. “If it helps you, keep doing it. No need to hide it.”
When their eyes meet again, and they can sense Qiu’s sincerity, their heart races once more. They accept the drawing, storing it safely inside their sketchbook before they continue on their way home.
Maybe they didn’t have the words for everything they felt just yet, but right now, this moment was enough.
₊ ⊹☼ Pairing: Heeseung x reader
₊ ⊹☼ Synopsis: Your professor asks you to create a new selection of paintings based off what colours mean to you and how they are represented in your view. The second colour: Purple
₊ ⊹☼ Genre: College au, soulmate au, artist reader, colourblind reader
₊ ⊹☼ Word count: 1,344
₊ ⊹☼ Warnings: Smoker reader, past bullying/abuse hinted at, mentions of bruises
₊ ⊹☼ A/N: It had been ages since I wrote anything, honestly I didn't think I would ever come back to this work, yet somehow I was inspired today. So here is the next chapter
After that night, you didn’t think much of Heeseung or the painted sunset stashed behind your easel. It was a momentary blip in time where the two of you crashed together like stars before fading away to darkness again. At least that’s all it should have been.
It should not have been anything more.
But here you were, Monday morning, sharing your work with Miss Kang, whose eyes lit up like a beacon of hope.
“This is a great step in the right direction. You’ve managed to truly capture the warmth linked to sunsets even without being able to see it yourself. It’s like I can picture myself there with them.”
“Thank you Miss-”
“But, you still haven’t truly grasped what I asked of you. I want to feel what you feel, see how you see.”
“But I can’t see them, that’s the issue.”
“And that, my dear, is why I’m expecting something great, something I haven’t seen before. All of your classmates experiment with and use colours every other day, they’re a tool for them. But for you, someone who is shrouded in grayscale, colours are more. They’re the hope for the future, the wildest imaginations and dreams. They’re everything and nothing all at once. I want more.”
There is something about art teachers that feels a bit like a fortune teller to you. They’ve always had this wise look to them, like they know more than they should. Like they’ve seen into a crystal ball swirling with mystery and expect the outcome to come to life. In the past, you haven’t minded this quality about Miss Kang, but in this moment, you wish she wouldn’t expect the best. You don’t know how to be the best. You don’t know how to be.
All your life, everyone has shoved your differences into your face. Violet bruises left behind a pattern on your skin for years. You can still feel nails digging into your wrists and invisible blows hitting you when you stay still for too long. The world rejected you years ago, so you did everything to reject it back. That’s why when you found paint, you stuck to greys. They were comfortable. Familiar actually. They were the one thing that stuck with you. And now, you were being told you couldn’t sink back into the dark.
Leaving the classroom with a sour mood, you turn to head to the back of the art block rather than your next class. You wouldn’t normally skip, but you can afford the time away since it’s not a habit of yours. Stepping outside, you make your way to the old, rundown supply shed. No one comes here anymore since the school renovated the building. Inside is all shiny and new now, so what need is there for some rotten wood. That’s why it has become your go-to spot during moments of stress when you can’t control the urges anymore. When the memories plague your being and the headaches become too much.
Leaning against the decaying planks and reaching into your jeans, you pull out your pack of cigarettes. You know you shouldn’t have one. It hasn’t been too long since the last, and this is a habit you can’t afford to increase. But ironically enough, it’s become your breath of fresh air. Somehow, the smoke that fills your lungs is a comfort and a way to release all the toxicity burning inside.
Your fingers stiffly bring the stick up to your lips and grab the cheap lighter you stashed here when you first adopted the spot, setting the end ablaze. The first sharp breath allows you to let out some tension along with the smoke that pours down towards the ground.
It’s moments like this, where you feel most in control of yourself. It’s sad, but true. You never wanted to be like this, but when life left you alone and afraid, you turned to anything you could to regain some peace. Smoke was familiar; it was part of your past, and even if it wasn’t ideal, you would do what you had to do to survive.
The old supply shed allowed you the privacy you needed, so when you heard footsteps walking around the block, you were confused. No one ever came back here anymore; they hadn’t updated the locks since the building was renovated, meaning only the art students could reach the back, and they no longer had a reason to.
That was why you were even more caught off guard when the person who came into view wasn’t a classmate of yours, but Heeseung. He seemed to stroll without a care in the world, reaching towards the shed when he caught sight of you.
That smile that you had seen nights before snuck onto his face again as he approached you and took a seat on the grass to your left. Shifting his weight against the wall behind him, he closed his eyes and you both allowed the silence to dominate the air between you. Eventually, he spoke, his voice quieter than you were used to hearing, as if respecting the peaceful atmosphere.
“I didn’t know you smoked.”
“We’re not exactly friends,” you reminded him, “there’s no reason you should have known.”
“Maybe not, but you aren’t a stranger. Sunoo spoke enough about his “talented art bestie” that I recognised you that night on the roof. It might have been our first conversation, but I’ve known you before then.”
You weren’t quite sure what to say to that, so you let the conversation drop off and continued to focus on your cigarette, trying to savour your last puffs. You figured that would be it, and he would head off soon. No reason to continue the conversation with something who didn’t answer. But that didn’t seem to deter him as Heeseung started back up again, this time shifting the topic over.
“I spent the rest of that night thinking about what you asked me, about what the colour orange meant to me. I couldn’t understand why at first, but then I remembered hearing about the student who couldn’t see colours. That’s you, isn’t it? No need to answer, I already know, but I guess that stuck with me. I’ve heard about your pieces beforehand, but never of them including colours. So if you’re trying to learn about it, I figured I could help. Sunoo thinks it’s a good idea, you know.”
Turning to look at him, you rake your eyes over his face, trying to understand what his motives could truly be. It seems strange that he would be interested in helping you out, even if Sunoo encouraged it. Both of you couldn’t be more different from one another, with you being the moon and Heeseung the sun. You couldn’t believe you were meant to co-exist together.
But, then you remembered Miss Kang’s words from before. You needed a better understanding for this project, and he had helped you before. So despite what intentions he may have, you found yourself agreeing.
Stubbing out your cigarette, you reached into your bag, pulling out your sketchbook.
“Go on then, if you’re going to stick around, help me better understand a new colour.”
He startled for a second like he hadn’t genuinely expected you to agree, before looking around and picking up on the purple hues of your lighter left on the crate next to you.
“I guess I’ll choose purple then. Its shades are so unique and different in hue, but right now, standing here in this moment, it feels like solitude. A loneliness built upon secrets and mysteries that hides from the world. It’s quietly contemplating life between puffs of smoke. Or it could be the deep conversations shared between strangers who won’t ever meet again. It’s magic and all that it encompasses. Purple feels endless…”
The silence that falls after he stops speaking leaves only the scratching of your pencil behind, and when you look up, the eyes of two, not strangers, but people who have somehow connected against expectations, lock on to one another.
This is my first fic! It ended up being way longer than I intended and there’s more fluff and self-insert stuff than intended but there is also very much smut.
Work: A New Cure for Insomnia
WC: 7.6k
Relationship: Beelzebub x Reader, Beelzebub x MC
AFAB reader, she/her pronouns and gendered terms for reader
Warning: Explicit
Description: M/C hasn't been able to sleep through the night in a week. Luckily, she runs into Beelzebub, who might have just the solution she needs.
M/C knew two things before she even opened her eyes; first, it was too damn early too be awake. Second, there was no way she was going to fall back asleep easily. Still, she tried to fight against what she knew to be true, keeping her eyes shut and praying to whatever deity was listening that she would be able to sleep until at least a semi-reasonable time. After what felt like an hour, but was more likely just a few minutes, she opened her eyes and flipped over towards where she left her phone to charge overnight.
“Are you shitting me?” she muttered to herself, rolling her eyes. It wasn’t even 3:30 in the morning.
She didn’t know why she was surprised – it had been like this for a week. She’d try to sleep at a normal time, only to wake up again in the middle of the night and lay awake for about an hour or two before eventually drifting back to sleep. M/C would normally spend that time scrolling through Devilgram, or sometimes texting Leviathan since he was the only brother that would be on his phone that late. Until tonight, she had refused to leave her bed. It felt like admitting defeat to do any bit of her morning routine during this hour, but if that’s what it took then tonight she was going to admit defeat. Laying in bed wasn’t helping her fall asleep again any quicker, so she decided to try a new approach.
Throwing a robe on over her nightdress, she rolled out of bed. Keeping her lights off to maintain the slim chances she had of falling asleep again sooner than later, she very carefully opened and shut her door, trying to make as little noise as possible. Her bare feet padded along the carpeted floor of the hallway until she found her way to the kitchen. Now she was faced with a dilemma. She wanted to keep the lights off to avoid waking up further, still desperately holding onto her dream of falling back asleep. Unfortunately she was not physiologically blessed with well-adapted features like the demons she lived with. She could not see in the dark, and if she felt around there was a risk she’d grab someone else’s food by mistake and start a fight in the morning when Beel was accused of eating the food, or worse – if Beel thought that someone else knowingly ate his food. M/C was not prepared to accept responsibility for that level of carnage. Compromising, she pulled her DDD out from the pocket of her robe and flipped on the flashlight. As she pointed the beam of light towards the cabinet labelled “human safe snacks”, two big eyes reflected back at her from the dark. “Fuck”, she whispered, clutching her chest “you almost gave me a heart attack, Beel”. She always forgot that their eyes reflected light like cats – she supposed it was necessary when living for centuries, if not millennia, in such a dark place. The brother in question swallowed whatever was in his mouth and grinned at her, “Hi, M/C. Did you get hungry too? Or are you still having some trouble staying asleep?”. She nodded. A small frown graced his face as he remembered his own struggles with nightmares. He hoped she didn’t have to deal with anything so awful.
She had mentioned to the brothers in passing that she hadn’t been sleeping very well over dinner, and Levi obviously knew from her uncharacteristically late texting, but she didn’t want to bother them or worse, worry them. They were so protective over her. In a way she appreciated it. She liked feeling so loved. On the other hand, it could feel smothering at times – like anything she did, she had to worry about how it would impact her boys. That was part of the reason she had never acted on her crush on Beelzebub. His brothers would riot.
The gentle giant had caught her eye from when they first met. He was absolutely gorgeous. Over time, she got closer to him. After they formed their pact together he had latched on to her and, to be honest, she had encouraged it. More time with him was a good thing in her book, even though she was always worried he’d catch her blushing or staring at his muscular arms and put two and two together. His brothers sometimes acted like he was stupid, but one thing she knew for sure was that he was anything but. He didn’t say as much as some of his brothers and he did talk about food quite a bit, but she felt that she understood why. His sin had to be painful. When she was hungry she could barely think her way out of a paper bag, so for him to be consumed by hunger more often than not and still manage to be as kind and gentle with her as he was? She admired him for it.
The sound of a cabinet door opening brought her back to reality. Beel pulled two things down from the shelf. M/C placed her phone face-down on the counter to still provide just a bit of light over a wider area. She smiled brightly at the items in front of her – her favorite mug and some sleepy-time tea from the human world. Her heart warmed as the red-head turned away from her to fill the kettle with water and place it on the stovetop. She remembered telling him once when they first began their friendship that she didn’t even particularly prefer the taste of that specific brand of tea, but she loved the silly drawing of the bear in pajamas on the box. It was a one-off comment, but he had listened and remembered all of these months later. How could she not fall for this giant goofball?
“Thank you, Beelzebub”, she said quietly. The sleep was still lingering in her body, making it hard to do much but mumble and yawn, but she knew she was going to be awake for the foreseeable future.
“Of course”, he replied.
The two sat in comfortable silence waiting for the kettle to boil. The only sounds were the steadily heating water and the muffled sounds of chewing coming from the demon across the counter from her. As the water reached a boil and the scream of the kettle pierced the air, Beelzebub brushed the crumbs from his hands and got up, crossing the kitchen in just a few strides and turning off the burner. Just as quickly as he left, he returned, filling the mug before her with hot water and watching the color flood out from the teabag.
“Be careful, it’s hot”, he cautioned. She thanked him and took the mug in her hands just to feel the warmth through the ceramic. They sat in silence just a big longer while she enjoyed the aroma of chamomile filling the room.
“Do you want to talk about it?” the demon didn’t even look up from his bag of spicy chips. Whether it was that he didn’t want to pressure her, or that he really was that focused on his chips, she couldn’t say.
“I think I’m just stressed – this happened once before, when I was back in school. It was my senior year and I realized I had two weeks left to write a thirty page essay from scratch. I got it done, but my sleep schedule was all messed up and took awhile to right itself again. Really, all I can do is deal with it for now unless I find a new way to fall asleep”.
“I see”, he seemed to think a bit on his response, almost like he was trying to solve a puzzle. “What have you tried?”.
“Well,” she thought back on the last seven nights, “I tried scrolling through my phone, I tried talking with Levi, and I’ve tried just lying there and hoping I fall back asleep”, his face became almost imperceptibly more serious at the mention of his older brother. Before she could look closely enough to see if he really did seem upset by something she said, his face had relaxed back to its normal state.
“Does anything else work for you?”
“Back home in the Human Realm, we have a supplement called ‘melatonin’, sometimes that will help but I already checked with Lucifer and it seems like there’s nothing in the Devildom with similar effects that wouldn’t kill a human. I’ve asked him to pick some up on his next trip, but that doesn’t help me now. Maybe a hot shower? But I’m worried that running a bath would wake the others up, and I don’t want to be a bother. I know it’s not a school night but you guys still have lives, I don’t want to deprive you of sleep. Especially Asmo – I think he’d kill me”. Beelzebub laughed at the image of an angry Asmodeus. Not because Asmodeus wasn’t terrifying when he was angry, but because the Devildom would freeze over before any of his brothers would harm her. Well, harm her now. She had become so dear to them in the months they’d known her – it was like they were new demons when they were around M/C.
Focusing again on the issue at hand, Beelzebub rested his hand on his chin, putting his now empty bag of chips in the growing pile of packages left empty from his nightly snack. From the looks of it, he had been in the kitchen for some time before she interrupted him. His brow furrowed in concentration, wanting more than anything to help her feel better.
After a minute spent under the sixth-born’s intense gaze, an occasional hum escaping his lips as he thought about her predicament, the human woman noticed the eyes of her demon brighten and a cheerful grin cross his face. Before she knew it, he was at her side, scooping her into his arms.
“What are you doing???” she whispered desperately, clinging to his well-sculpted arms out of fear of falling.
“Helping you sleep”, the man carrying her in his arms said this like it was the most obvious thing in the world, but without a hint of condescension. And with that, he whisked her away from the kitchen and towards the room he normally shared with Belphegor. Seeing no sign of the seventh-born, the human breathed a sigh of relief. He must be in the attic tonight. At least he wouldn’t get any blackmail material out of this situation. Beelzebub set her down in front of a door she hadn’t noticed before.
“What are we doing in your room, Beel?”
“You said a hot shower could help you sleep, right?”
“I did, but I also said that I didn’t want to wake anyone up”.
“That’s why this is perfect!” he smiled brightly, so clearly proud of himself, “Lucifer had a shower put in for when I come back from Fangol practice late. No one will be able to hear the water running”.
She was about to dismiss the idea- it felt intimate, using Beelzebub’s private shower, and the thought turned her as red as his hair. That is, until she looked up at his beaming face. How could she say no to those puppy dog eyes? Did he have any idea that she, his tiny little human, would move mountains for him? She could take a little embarrassment. And besides, he had a point. A shower really couldn’t hurt, and he would be in the other room, so what’s the issue?
“Okay” she smiled gently but sincerely. “Thank you Beel, I really appreciate you looking out for me”.
“Of course”. With that he walked into the bathroom and turned on the water, making sure the temperature wasn’t going to freeze or burn her. He was still learning about humans but he was fairly certain he’d become more aware of their physical limitations.
The human sat on his bed awkwardly, waiting for the go-ahead to enter the bathroom. She winced when he turned on the light, willing herself to adjust to the change more quickly.
“Come in,” she heard, and she walked towards the sound of running water, only to stop short at the threshold of the room. In front of her was Beelzebub, in the process of taking off his own pajama shirt, his necklace bouncing against his neck as he pulled the garment over his head.
“I am so sorry Beel,” she stuttered, averting her eyes. Though it was not the first time she had seen him shirtless, it was certainly the first time his hands had drifted towards the waistband of his pants while she was there to see. “I must have misunderstood – I’ll go back to my room. Have a good ni-“. Before she could finish her sentence and die of embarrassment in the safety of her own bedroom, she felt a hand close around her wrist and hold her steady.
“Where are you going?” Damn those puppy dog eyes. He looked confused and concerned.
“I – to my room?”, she stumbled over her words, equally confused. Did… did he want her to stay?
“Why? Did I do something wrong?”
“Absolutely not, I just thought you’d like your privacy, since you look like you’re about to use the shower. I thought you were offering it to me, but that was my mistake, I can leave now”. She was making eye contact with the handsome man now, if only because she was terrified she’d stare at his pecs until the end of time if she didn’t give herself something else to focus on.
“Oh, I get it”, the smile returned to his face, though smaller. “I don’t mind sharing, M/C. I made the temperature safe for humans too, feel it”, he took her by the wrist still in his grasp and very gently brought her hand through the open glass door of the shower so she could feel the water. She had to admit, it was the exact temperature she liked.
“Beel, do you know what showering together means for humans? Because I need to be sure that we’re on the same page before I agree to this”. The woman maintained eye contact, although it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep her eyes above his collarbones. His beautiful, delicate collarbones. He really was sculpted by God himself, wasn’t he? God couldn’t take credit for the upkeep of his creation though. Beelzebub really took care of himself for someone who could put away food quicker than an industrial garbage disposal.
“Satan leant me a book once where the characters took a shower together. They liked each other. I really like you, M/C. Don’t you like me?” Her breath caught in her throat. Both at the implication that Satan had loaned a raunchy romance novel to his brother, and that he had those kinds of thoughts about her.
“Definitions are important here, Beelzebub”. She hoped he knew she was being serious since she was using his full name. “How do you like me?”
He guided her hand from where it was still paused between them, dripping from testing the water just moments ago, and brought it to rest against his chest. “I’ve seen how you look at me, M/C”. His voice took on a seductive quality she could barely have imagined from the earnest sixth-born. “I think we like each other the same way”. With his other hand, he brushed her hair behind her ear and cradled her face in his large, calloused hand. She leaned into his touch and allowed herself to relish the feeling.
“Beel, I really care about you. Not only as a friend, but romantically as well. You mean so much to me and I don’t want to ruin this in a moment of weakness. I need to hear you say it”. She spoke into his palm, half hoping he wouldn’t hear her.
Whether it was lucky or unlucky, demons have excellent hearing, and there was no way he could ever mistake what he heard. Tilting her chin up with the hand she had been nuzzling, the demon bent closer and looked deep into her eyes, trying to convey what he knew he never could with words. They weren’t sure which one of them moved first, but before they knew it their lips had met in the middle. The kiss was soft and chaste, but they could feel how sure the other was that this was what they wanted. There was no hesitation on the part of demon nor human, only a feeling they might one day dare to call love.
“M/C”, he whispered against her lips, “you know I’m not as good with words as some of my brothers. Will you let me show you how I feel about you?”.
Rather than respond with words, the woman decided to follow his lead, and leaned in to join their lips once again as she nodded her agreement. She shimmied her robe off and let it drop to the floor before placing both of her hands back on Beelzebub to feel the muscles she’s dreamt of for months. Beelzebub’s hands settled themselves on her waist, squeezing gently as though reminding her that he is here, he knows her, and he wants her. Their kiss turned hungry as one of his hands slipped down her leg, teasing the hem of her nightgown. The demon pulled away just long enough to look in her eyes and seek her permission. The human nodded and she took a sharp breath as she felt where his rough hands began to push her dress from where it rested at mid-thigh upwards towards her hips. His hands continued upwards, dragging the fabric along her body while feeling the curves that he had studied from afar for so long. M/C raised her hands and they regretfully broke apart as he pulled the clothing from her body, leaving her only in a thin pair of panties.
The man took this pause to appreciate his human’s body- every stretchmark, every beauty mark, every dimple and freckle that had been hidden from his sight. He feels his sin begin to overtake him, desiring his dear friend’s body, wanting to metaphorically devour her until she screams his name. Not Mammon, or Asmodeus, or Leviathan, his name. Though envy was the third-born’s sin, Beelzebub himself felt more like the Avatar of Envy than the Avatar of Gluttony when he had heard M/C talk about how she had been texting Leviathan at night for the last week. He knew, rationally, why. Levi was a night owl, and they were good friends. Still, he had the thought, “why not come to me?”. He shouldn’t feel threatened – not only was Levi much too scared to ever make a move on M/C despite his fairly obvious crush, but the human exchange student was not actually his. Though he considered her his human and referred to her as such in his head, M/C shared a pact with his brothers as well. Tonight though, the melding of his gluttony and the unprecedented flood of envy he felt drove him to make her his.
His thoughts were interrupted by the object of his affections. “Your turn”, she said, sounding much more confident than when this encounter began. He grinned, and in one fluid motion he slipped off his pajama pants and let them join his shirt on the tile floor. He reached behind him to unclasp his necklace, but a small pair of hands grabbed onto his forearms in an attempt to stop him.
“Let me”, she wore a cocky grin. He turned around to face the mirror and bent down so she could reach his neck. In the mirror, though it was fogged by steam, he saw her stare intently at his back. She was focused on her task, but he was taken aback by the unexpected intimacy of the moment. He’d already stuck his tongue down her throat, but he was blushing at the tenderness of her removing his jewelry with such care. When he felt the leather cord leave his neck and heard the quiet clink of the tooth meeting the marble countertop, the giant couldn’t stop himself from turning around and standing to his full height. He held her tight to him, trying to memorize the feel of her skin on his and the way her heartbeat felt in her chest. She went along with his sudden movements, trusting him to keep her safe, and that alone just reaffirmed in his mind that he cared for her more than she would ever know. To trust him, a demon that could kill her in the blink of an eye, a demon who had even attempted to kill her on one occasion, brought him such a feeling of peace and gratitude.
Overpowering that feeling of peace, however, was the feeling of his cock hardening against the body in his grasp. The sound of running water and the feeling of her breath on his chest reminded him that there were time-sensitive matters at hand.
“Would you like to shower with me?” he asked, stepping back to appreciate her body once again, but holding her hands loosely in his so he could still feed his need for her body, just a bit.
“I would”. With a glint in her eye and a mischievous smile, she turned from him. He let her hands fall from his grasp, excited to have her entire body on his once again. The shorter of the two looked over her shoulder to be sure he was watching when she dropped her underwear, baring her ass to him and taking in his hungry expression. It only fed the fire growing in her belly. Now that they were doing this, she was going to make sure they did it her way. She wanted him to want her more than air, to feel like he’d die without her. Everyone knows that demons don’t handle temptation well, but this cocky, fragile human wanted to test his limits. If Lucifer knew what she was doing, tempting the most ravenous demon there is, he would be furious with her for so many reasons. That just made it more fun.
Turning back to face the shower, she stepped forward and let the steam envelop her like a warm hug. The shower was more spacious than it appeared at first. She had been slightly worried about fitting in a shower with the largest of the brothers, but she should have known that the eldest would have the forethought to make a Beel-sized shower. Leaning back, she let the water flow down her hair and back, taking in how good the pulsing showerhead felt on her tired body. Before she could enjoy the sensation for long, her companion stepped into the shower as well, closing the door behind them. The steam filled the shower more densely now that it had nowhere else to go, and the human pouted to herself that she wouldn’t be able to see her lover’s body as clearly.
As if sensing her displeasure, Beelzebub once again grabbed her by the wrist and led her hand to his chest. “Don’t worry, baby, you’ll get to look as much as you want later. After all, you’re mine now”. His voice was thick with want, “For now, touch”. Thinking he had the upper hand, he was surprised when he felt sharp teeth close around a spot on his chest, leaving a small red mark. A tongue came to soothe the sting, and his human stood on tip-toes to get close to his ear and whisper, “Oh, I’ll be touching. If I’m yours, you’re mine, and I plan to take full advantage”. His face turned red, and not from the heat of the water. His past lovers had all been passive, thinking that as a powerful figure in the Devildom that that’s what he wanted. This dynamic was new, but he wanted nothing more than to explore it.
Though she still could not see through the thick steam, M/C wanted to appreciate her demon’s body, Taking advantage of his shock, she pulled him to her and dragged his head down to meet in a passionate kiss. Needing more, she bit his bottom lip, demanding access to his mouth. He enthusiastically let her in, letting her tongue twine with his while he eagerly explored her body with his hands. Normally, both of them loved to take their time, but months of romantic and sexual tension was coming to a head. M/C slipped her hands down his body, landing on his perfect ass. She couldn’t resist groping it, and when he moaned into her mouth she took that as a sign that she could grab him harder. His hands went to her breasts, one hand grabbing at one side and the other hand drifting to play with her other nipple, appreciating the noises of pleasure she made between kisses.
Standing beneath the water, they let their wet, naked bodies glide against one another. Beelzebub was once again taken by surprise when his little human shoved him against the wall of the shower. He moved to reach for her again, but she stepped back. “Stay,” she said. Though she had not used the power of the pact, her demon felt compelled to obey. Tilting the showerhead so she wouldn’t waterboard herself, M/C dropped to her knees in front of him, never once breaking eye contact. Her need to have him beg for relief hadn’t waned – if anything it had intensified. The determined look on her face excited Beelzebub. He didn’t know what she had planned, but he knew that when she decided on something there was no changing her mind.
The sixth-born stared intently as M/C nudged his thighs apart, one hand caressing the back of his calf and the other resting on his thigh. She left little kisses inside his thighs, starting just about his knees and traveling upwards along one leg. It was only now that she was able to see his cock, and the view was worth the wait. It took all of her self-control not to put her mouth on him, but she wanted him to unravel first. Looking up from between his legs, she saw him bite his lip and shut his eyes, trying so hard not to lose control with her.
“Look at me”, she said sternly, drawing his attention. “Your noises are mine. Don’t you dare keep them from me”. Powerless to resist, he released his lip from between his teeth and kept his eyes on the woman kneeling before him. She went back to her work, kissing and sucking and nipping at his skin, loving the sight of the bruises forming before her eyes. What she loved even more was the quickened breathing from the man above her. She wanted more of it.
Reaching the place where his thigh and groin meet, she licked and kissed at the delicate skin. His dick throbbed at the thought of her finally putting her beautiful lips around him. He almost cried when she pulled back and resumed her work on his other thigh. He had practice containing his sin, but he had much less experience with his brothers’ sins. He was no stranger to lust or greed, but for them to have this much control over him was new. His hands shook by his sides, trying to resist the urge to grab her by the hair and fuck her face like she was a toy. She knew exactly what she was doing. The human could feel the tension in his shaking thighs and his hands flexed only inches from her face. It was only a matter of time before his restraint ran out.
Leaning back on her knees and staring up at him, she scratched at his hips, earning a sharp intake of breath from her lover. “I’ll give you what you need”, she began, “if you beg”. Without hesitation, pleas fell from his lips, “Please, M/C, I need you. Please let me touch you, please touch me, I’ll take anything”.
“Then take it from me, love. Take everything you’ve ever wanted”. She had barely even finished speaking when she felt her demon’s hands gently make their way into her hair, tugging it into a makeshift handle. Glancing desperately into her eyes once more for permission, Beelzebub makes his hunger clear in the way he looks at his human. M/C could feel the wetness between her thighs, and she was sick of teasing herself along with her lover, even if seeing a powerful demon beg for her touch was something she feared she could get addicted to. Instead of reassuring him with words, she opened her mouth and looked up at him through her fluttering eyelashes, waiting to be used. Beelzebub pulled her to his crotch, allowing her to lick and kiss at the base of his cock, licking up the precum that had been flowing since he saw her in her nightgown. Her hand came up to gently massage his balls, making Beel throw his head back and moan.
“Fuck”, he said, mostly to himself, “you’re going to be the death of me”. He pulled her back, grabbing his cock with his other hand and slapping it against her cheek. Seeing the desperation in her eyes, he decided to have mercy and brought her lips just shy of the head of his dick, “Do you want to make me feel good, baby?” he asked. She nodded desperately, straining against his hold and trying to suck on his cock. Satisfied, he pulled her onto him, letting his human finally have a taste of him. Desperate to hear his moans, she sank down onto him, fighting through her gag reflex until her lips were pressed against the wild thatch of hair between his legs. Realizing she had fit him all, she let out a satisfied moan, rubbing her thighs together. Her moans were echoed by her demon, satisfied by the vibrations that her noises of pleasure caused. Shifting his hands to the side of her head, he pulled out slightly, then held her steady while he thrust into her throat. He wanted – needed - to feel her throat constrict around him as she struggled to breathe.
Eyes rolling back in her head, the woman could think of nothing but the way she could feel her throat bruising from his rough treatment. She brought her hands to his thighs, digging her nails into his skin. He gasped and pulled his human off of him, the slight pain having almost pushed him over the edge. Beelzebub knew he wouldn’t forgive himself if he came before he got to feel her cunt around his cock.
Offering her his hand, he helped her to his feet. He kissed her gently, trying to convey his appreciation for her and counter the rough treatment, though he got the sense from her dopey grin as he pulled away that she was having the time of her life.
“Do you think you can take me?”, he asked just loud enough to be heard over the roar of the shower. Thank goodness for Asmo’s constant baths, it meant Lucifer had gone for the largest water heater he could get his hands on a few centuries ago to avoid more complaints from the fifth-born about how he was “being punished for being beautiful” when the hot water ran out.
M/C looked down again at the monster between his legs. He was definitely larger than any human she’d been with before, but he was not so large that she feared for her physical safety. “Definitely not without some prep, I’m wet as hell for you but I’m not risking having to sit with an ice pack between my legs tomorrow. I really don’t want to answer any questions about that”. She laughed, a beautiful sound that brought a smile to his face, but he felt a new wave of possessiveness roll through him at the thought of his brothers knowing that he was the one who would be allowed to love her, to hold her, to fuck her until she cried. Beel may be one of the more low-key brothers personality-wise, but he was still a demon. It was in their nature to indulge.
Nodding to show he understood, Beel knelt where she had before, guiding her to the wall and maneuvering her thigh over his shoulder. He stroked her leg gently, looking up at her with a hungry grin. Knowing he was once again waiting for her permission, she nodded eagerly. He got closer to her sex, her legs spread for him and her arousal thick in the air, but stopped just short of where she wanted him.
This fucking tease.
He knows exactly what he’s doing, she knows it. He was clearly Lucifer’s brother, the family trend towards sadism shining through. She supposes that she was asking for it, making him beg earlier. That doesn’t make her like it any more.
“Please, Beel, I need you”, her voice was more like a whine than the confident tone that she’d been able to manage at the start of this. He let out a deep laugh, thinking her desperation was just intoxicating. Rather than drag it out, he told himself that he’d have so many more opportunities to make her lose her mind in any and every way he could imagine. He was sick of denying himself what they clearly both wanted. With that thought, he dove in like she was his favorite meal and honestly, she might be after this. None of the food he normally ate made such cute noises when he devoured it. She writhed against the wall, trying at first to find a handhold to ground herself along the walls of the shower, but quickly settled on grabbing a fistful of his bright hair and pulling him impossibly close to her. One of Beelzebub’s arms rose up to her waist, pinning her in place, while the other held her thigh up to keep her legs open for him. M/C could hardly distinguish the individual sensations, just that his tongue was hot and wet and eager on her cunt. Pulling harder on his hair, she almost screamed at the feeling of his moans against her. Beel likes a little pain, duly noted.
She was brought back into her body at the feeling of her lover shifting his attentions towards her clit, making room for him to gently feel around her entrance. It seemed he was taking her desire for more prep very seriously, which she appreciated since her human lovers rarely cared this much. The irony almost made her laugh. That ghost of a laugh turned to a gasp as he slipped one long, thick finger into her, quickly followed by a second when he met almost no resistance.
“Holy fuck” she moaned. The demon’s mouth left her skin and he stared up at her with starry eyes and a face absolutely coated in her slick. She had not been kidding about being wet for him, and his skilled mouth just exacerbated the situation. “Doing alright up there, cutie?” he asked his lover, wanting to hear her admit just how close he was to bringing her to orgasm as he continued to rub that spot inside of her that made her legs shake. “You know exactly what you’re doing to me, don’t pretend” she retorted, finding his smugness just irritating enough that she wanted to wipe that smirk off of his face.
Finding that a third finger fit inside of her with little resistance, he placed kisses along her hip and thigh, deciding she was as ready for him as he was willing to wait for. Another night, he’d have her begging for him to be inside of her but he quickly approaching the limits of his patience. Removing his fingers from her, he gently lowered her leg and rose to his full height. Staring down at her dazed expression and heaving chest, he kept his appetite at bay just a bit longer by tasting the remnants of her on his fingers and licking his lips.
M/C was furious at having her orgasm taken from her when she had been so close that there was no way that a being with as many years of sexual experience as him didn’t notice. Shutting off the water, the look in her eyes made it clear she was out of patience as well. She reached around the demon in front of her and flung open the shower door, telling him to get out and motioning towards the door to his bedroom with a jerk of her head. As Beel stepped out of the shower and cleared the path for her, she grabbed his hand and dragged him back towards his bed. Though he was much stronger and could resist her tugging with absolutely no effort, he wanted to see where she was going with this so he went along with his human’s directions. She tugged Beelzebub in front of her and placed two hands firmly on his pecs, pushing him back onto his bed. As hell went down, he grabbed her forearms, pulling her onto the bed with him, forcing her to straddle him to regain her balance.
Without the sound of rushing water, the human became more aware of the situation she was in. The only sound she could hear was the heavy breathing of herself and her partner. The water clinging to their skin was chilling with the air, sending a shiver down her spine. It was definitely the fact that she went from a hot shower to the chilly air of his bedroom, definitely not the anticipation from the fact that she could feel his cock pulsing underneath her or the anxiety she felt at not wanting to disappoint the object of her affections. That was her story and she was sticking to it.
Sensing a bit of her trepidation, Beel once again cradled her cheek with his large hand and stared at her with eyes full of adoration. “Hey”, he whispered.
“Hey”, she whispered back.
“We don’t have to do this if it’s too much” his voice was sincere and that alone was enough to settle her nerves. Rather than answer him with words, she bent down just the slightest bit and left a delicate kiss on the tip of his nose. Giving him a reassuring smile, she reached beneath her to grab his cock and rub it along her folds.
It took all of his self-control not to thrust upwards the second he felt his cockhead catch on her entrance. Focusing on his breathing, he rested his hands on her waist and looked up at her through thick eyelashes. Echoing her earlier plea, he told her to take anything she needed from him. Giving him one last smile, she lined him up with her entrance and began to slide down his length. Her eyes closed, trying desperately to commit this sensation to memory while he fixed his eyes on her face screwed up in pleasure and tried to commit that to memory.
Inch by inch, she eventually felt her hips make contact with his own. The human had never felt so pleasantly full, and her heart warmed at the pleased hum she heard come from the man beneath her. Opening her eyes, she gently brushed his hair out of his face, running her thumb across his cheek. With a gentle smile shared between them, she began to move. His hands tightened on her waist as she gained speed, using more force to bounce on her lover’s cock as she grew more confident. The orgasm she had been so close to before was quickly building up within her again, a warm feeling taking root in her stomach.
“Beel, please baby, I need more, I can’t move fast enough”, she scratched along his chest as she continued to ride him.
“Anything you need, I’m yours”. Her world spun and before she could process that he had flipped them, she was overcome with the feeling of him reaching deeper inside of her than she could remember feeling before, stretching her walls so very pleasantly. He thrust with reckless abandon, pulling her body to meet his movements like she weighed nothing. “So fucking tight, you’re squeezing me so tight, baby”, he mumbled. The two had entirely forgotten where and when they were, letting moans and grunts and praise tumble off of their lips as they had longed to for months.
“I’m close, M/C” he said, the plea implicit in his statement. Please let me cum. Her own mind going blank with pleasure as her orgasm overtook her, she couldn’t do anything but nod and wrap her legs around his waist tightly, hoping he understood that she wanted nothing more than for him to fill her with evidence that this wasn’t a wonderful dream, that this was real and had happened. Understanding, he nodded, and with a cry of her name she felt a heat spread through her. His thrusts slowed and stopped, and he dropped to his elbows in an attempt not to collapse on top of her. Her legs unwound from his body, collapsing to the sides.
The two laid in silence for a bit and tried to process what had just happened. What did this mean? What happens when the other brothers find out? Do they have a future together as two beings with wildly different lifespans and from two different realms? Somehow, each in their own heads, they decided at the same time that the other was worth it. Whatever the answers to those questions, they were willing to try if it meant that the other would be there when they woke up every morning and when they went to sleep at night. Beel turned the two of them onto their sides, still not leaving the warmth of her body. Taking a hand, he cradled her head against his chest, making a silent promise to protect her and be by her side as long as she would have him. As she closed her eyes and inhaled his scent, sleep finally coming to her, she made her own promise to bring a smile to his face every day.
After a discussion the next morning, the two had agreed to keep things to themselves until they worked things out more solidly. Unfortunately, nothing in the House of Lamentation can ever go the way that it should.
Beel left the room a few minutes before her, hoping not to arouse any suspicions. They checked each other’s necks and found no hickeys, they made sure their hair was combed out and they were wearing their own clothing, doing their best to avoid every pitfall that would reveal they had spent the early morning hours in each other’s arms. He left the room with his sweatpants slung low on his hips and his tight black tanktop showing off his muscular physique. She was so relieved to be able to drool over him a little more openly now. He gave her a kiss on her cheek and promised to save some food for her.
At breakfast M/C had barely sat down and greeted the brothers, minus Beel who was still in the kitchen, before she could feel sunset-colored eyes on her. She had expected Asmo to know, at some level, but she absolutely was not going to confirm anything for him. He had no proof.
“So,” Asmodeus began with his usual grin seeping through his voice, “the funniest thing happened last night”.
“Do tell, Asmo” she just wanted to get this interrogation over with. She knew without any kind of proof none of the other demons would take him any more seriously than usual, and they knew he loved to tease her with wild accusations and innuendos.
“I got in from the Fall at maybe 4am, and of course you know I just have to make sure that my skin stays in flawless shape, so I stopped in at the kitchen to grab that new face mask I showed you from the fridge”, the human felt some of the color drain from her face, but did her best to maintain a neutral expression. She had thought that Asmo would be staying over at Purgatory Hall with Solomon last night, but clearly she was misinformed. He probably got too drunk and they didn’t want to risk Luke being exposed to a sloshed Avatar of Lust. Suddenly her breakfast was just so interesting, she couldn’t possibly look up from her plate.
“You don’t say? I didn’t know they had the kind you needed to refrigerate in the Devildom”. A bold-faced lie. He’d brought you to a store that reminded you of Lush just last week to pick up a haul, and he had given you an hour long explanation on everything he had gotten, hoping it would rub off on you.
“That’s not the funny part”, he continued slowly, knowing he had you cornered. “When I passed the twins’ room, I felt the most delicious surge of lust. Would you happen to know anything about that, darling? I could’ve even sworn I heard some very familiar noises, given my sin”.
“Y’know Asmo, I wouldn’t. You said it was around 4am? It seems like it would be a little rude to me to ask your brothers if they had any particularly entertaining dreams, but that seems to be the only explanation”.
With that, he knew he had you. A Cheshire grin spread across his face in an almost unsettling way, “That makes sense. In that case, would you care to explain the little bitty human-hand sized scratch marks I saw on Beel’s hips when his shirt rode up earlier?”
Beel had wandered out of the kitchen just in time to hear the exchange and feel the stares of all six of his brothers bore into his skull.
Fuck. At least you’d found your new favorite way to beat insomnia.
Metagaming and Metamagic - A Modern Girl in Faerûn fic
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Rating: Mature (for the inevitable violence and romantic themes; anything genuinely explicit will be omitted)
Ship: Rolan/OC
Summary
A cleric who doesn't even know what god she prays to, with sorcerous blood she's never even touched, who can't lift a weapon worth a damn. Hardly a fitting leader for a group of otherwise skilled adventurers.
And yet, she's invaluable. She has dreams at night, vivid ones, about what's to be expected. The gift of innate divination is one to be coveted.
At least, that's what the rest of the party believes.
Juniper, college-student-turned-protagonist and Baldur's Gate 3 player, has landed in Faerûn with a parasite in her head. She knows the beginning of this story like the back of her hand, so as long as everything follows the script, she'll be fine. Metagaming is the way to go when it's your own life on the line, right?
Except, between the will of the deity that keeps her armed, the affections of a wizard who's wasn't even supposed to notice her, and her own uncanny knack for "prophecy," the script's begun to unravel.
Without a path she's sure will take her forward, can June survive to see the fall of the Absolute?
I choose to hope, not because of some blind optimism or sheltered nieve, but because I have seen and been shaped by some of the best and worst that humanity has to offer. I choose to hope because in a world of manufactured despair, to stubbornly, instantly, determinedly hope is one of the greatest acts of defiance at our disposal.
