I’m Writing Over Here!

There are only a few spots Beel might be after that. His bedroom is empty, and the kitchen is quiet, so you find yourself almost lost as you wander the first floor. Eventually, you notice the garden door is unlocked and you slip out the back to find him doing pushups by one of the more picturesque parts of the backyard. He's so caught up in whatever he's thinking about that you almost surprise him with your approach, taking the chance to stand by his side and properly ogle his form.

When he stops and looks up at you, the sweat that drips down his neck directs your line of sight like a traffic controller. Beelzebub is shirtless and a little out of breath- the entire sight makes your body ache in a specific way and when you move to sit beside him it's mostly to relieve the soft shaking of your knees. He blinks up at you, the moon catching in his eyes and turning magenta into ultraviolet. The night air isn't the only thing making you shiver then.

"Sorry" Exertion deepens his voice and you swallow a little too roughly "You came looking for me, but you could have just kept sleeping with Belphie." There's a bit of remorse in his eyes and while you know you could have, you really love Beel and part of you had hoped to get some alone time with him. He turns onto his side to better look at you and the position lets you stare blatantly at his exposed torso. Thick muscle and intense definition make your mouth dry enough to keep it quiet. When you don't answer he places a hand on your thigh and lifts himself to your eye line.

Beelzebub tries again, demanding your attention before apologizing once more and insisting you go back to sleep. It's then that you come back to yourself properly. The clouded look in his eye is more than remorse; there's something there that dragged him from your arms and brought him out here in the dead of night. With a steadying breath, you center yourself and bring your hands up to cup his face. There's a flash of something there and then he melts into your touch. Shifting from his half-sprawled position, Beelzebub leans into your hold and then drags you back to him, into his arms and then lap- a position you're more than happy to be in. Once sat in your usual seat, you press your forehead to his, sweat sticking you together in a way that used to bother you, but now only warms your heart.

"What's going on, Honey Bee?" Fingers find and thread into his hair, the sweat dampens them, but nothing is going to stop you from showing this man affection. His eyebrows furrow and you can smell the midnight snack on his breath as he tries to decide between keeping his troubles to himself. When he places his nose to your shoulder and inhales, you know he's working up the courage to say what he must. Deciding that he might need the encouragement, you press soft kisses to his temple and between the sweat and the way his body wraps tighter, you're sure he's melting around you. "I'm right here. Promise" whispering against his jawline earns you a groan and then he finally relents.

"I just wanted a midnight snack..." You nod to encourage him on, and he whines this time in the junction of your neck and ear. Despite your best intentions, you shiver in his hold and try to focus. "I didn't mean to lose my head about it... I just... before I knew it, I'd eaten the lunch Asmo prepared for tomorrow..." Ah, that would weigh heavy on him. Petting his head you kiss his damp hairline and try to soothe his heartache. "There's no more food in the fridge, so Lucifer's going to be upset... and none of the stores are open right now, so I can't go pick up anymore of the special ingredients that Asmo used. His skin won't be extra-super soft tomorrow."

His brow dips and you can't help but kiss it. Of course, he would be upset that he'd lost control and eaten something his brother was excited about. Some new food trend that was meant to hydrate and rejuvenate one's appearance had led Asmodeus to spend hours on a lunch box. He'd gone out to find specific ingredients and even managed to coerce Barbatos and Solomon into helping him gather them. He'd explained it all to you, even asked you to help prepare some of it, insisting that you'd benefit from it as well. In hindsight, it’s a great thing you did, the recipes are saved to your DDD and you're sure Barbatos even has extra ingredients, having insisted on trying to make some for Diavolo.

Petting the gentle giant seems to soothe him and while he probably needs the reassurance, you decide the words are a better option. Explaining to him that it's not all lost and that, while this isn't a great outcome and he'll have to apologize, you can probably work to fix it come morning. The message is simple, but he stares at you like you'd spoken the word of god and when you're done, he leans forward and kisses you deep and unrelenting.

You're no stranger to the soft touches and flirty behaviour with the brothers, but this is the first time Beel has ever kissed you like this. Of course, you're not displeased at all, but you are a little surprised. He relents only when tug at his hair, intent on continuing to breathe, and he smiles at you in that adorable way that makes your heart jump. Beelzebub is so cute. "Thank you," the way he says your name feels like worship and you swallow down the thrill of it. "I was so worried Asmo would hate me. Thank you for always being so kind." His eyes shine with awe and he looks like he wants to kiss you again. You think you might really like that.

"So, now that that's sorted, come to bed?" He nods at you, happy and light with your plan in place. Without another word he's picking you up and returning to the attic, intent on curling you right back up between him and his brother. Once you're back on the futon, Belphie almost immediately clinging to you in his sleep, he stands once more without you. "Wait-" but he insists that he needs a shower before he stinks you up anymore. His smile is soft and the way he stares at you makes your stomach dance. Before you can open your mouth again and ask to join him, he leans down one more time to make his position clear.

"Maybe... another time, you could join me?" And the soft way he whispers the words against your lips paired with the heat from his sweat-damp skin makes you shiver worse than either the night air or your base attraction to him. The promise of another time dries your tongue, and you can't help but think about it as he kisses you one last time before retreating to the bathroom. You can't help but stare after him, watching the doorframe for too long after he's left. It feels like you might explode and just as you're beginning to panic over how you could ever sleep tonight, knowing he'll be right beside you, you feel a hand on your shoulder and whip around too fast.

"I'd say 'it's about time' but you look like you're going to pop." The sloth demon blinks at you from where he's laid out and you open your mouth to say something in defense. He shakes his head and tugs at you until you lay yourself down beside him. "I get it. Neither of you are subtle. Come on, I'll sleep in the middle tonight." The offer is both a relief and an offense but when Beelzebub returns, you're grateful for the space. A small pep talk from the youngest helps you calm down enough to sleep and at some point, you wake up between both men again anyway.

The soft sound of footsteps doubles in your ears and you try to focus on the cobblestone path in front of you. It wouldn't be the first time you've tripped on your way to school and in your current state you're surprised your staying upright. Your bag pressed too heavy into your hip acts as a guide, and you try to remember to thank Asmo later for finding you such a high-quality one that works well for your books. Your feet map the route to your first class almost automatically and when you sit down, it's a fight to not fall asleep immediately. It's impossible for you to follow today's lesson, but the loud way Mammon seems to badger the instructor today has you feeling that it might not be important. When your head hits the desk, you can only recall the volume of it before you're rudely woken by the sound of the bell.

It's a struggle to get to your feet and then to the next class but somehow, you manage the route even through your daze. The rest of your day continues in a similar fashion. Miraculously finding your way to class, your bag weighing heavier on your hip, and Mammon being too loud for the staff, but familiar enough to sleep through. By lunch, you've had at least one REM cycle worth of sleep and feel just a little more present.

The greed demon encourages you to sit at the table while he grabs you some food and you can't argue with the demand, even if this meal might cost you three times the usual in interest and service charges. When your knees hit the table, you hear Simeon giggle and comment "Just like a puppy hm?" But you feel far more like a newborn faun than dog. Maybe he's insisting you're blind and you try to look around a little harder to see what he means. It's then that Mammon places a tray in front of you and gets into an argument with Levi at your other side. Not that you even noticed when the Otaku sat down, but the two of them fighting for the right to sit next to you feels warm in the bone-deep cold that comes with a sleepless night. When you snicker at them, they both seem to concede somewhat and leave you to your meal.

Clean linen and vanilla flood your nose you with the bell and when you lift your head from the table once more, it's to the angel's warm smile and soft gloves. He strokes your face and whispers a "Good Morning" so sweet that you'd have exploded if you weren't in a different solar system. Blinking roughly doesn't seem to shake the fatigue from your eyes, but the sudden jerk of your body and brisk pace to your next class does drag your back to earth somehow. The sudden awareness speeds through your system like a instant frost and you blink to connect the sensations you'd been feeling all day.

The first is the weight of your bag. The sensation of pressure at your hip suddenly becomes more acute and intentional. It isn't the weight of your books knocking into your side, but Mammon's hand placed firm and supportive, guiding you between the halls in the way you'd assumed your feet had remembered. He's oddly quiet and you aren't quite sure how to take that but once you're seated at your desk, you put your head down just to watch what might happen.

The second sensation clicks when you pretend to sleep at your desk. You hear the soft inhale of the instructor by your desk, the tell-tale sound of a scolding ramping up, but it doesn't come. Instead, Mammon gets loud. Annoying, combative, soon enough he's arguing with the instructor in that charming way only he can do without getting into too much trouble. He makes himself in the problem, the class clown and waves it around like a beacon until the instructor finally brushes it off and forgets you were ever the problem. You stare at Mammon then, inspecting his profile like one might dissect a painting for its meaning. When he pulls out a notebook and starts jotting down whatever the head-demon says, you realize he's probably been doing it for your sake as well.

You don't sleep through that class, and when you're in the hallway later, you realize that Simeon hadn't been talking about your when he'd mentioned acting like a puppy. There are still a few classes to go for the day, but you find it more unreasonable to go now than you had this morning. With a squeeze to his hand, you manage to derail Mammon to the courtyard, and despite his consideration and vigilance all day, he says nothing about the detour when you take the initiative.

Once outside, you manage to find a secluded spot in the gardens and drag him down beside you. There's a beat as he watches you, trying to anticipate your actions before you can make it known what you want but despite his attentions, when you half crawl into his lap and kiss him flat on the mouth, he's a stunned as if he hadn't known you were there at all. It takes another second for his mind to cycle and when it does, he's wrapping his arms around you like he's worried you'll break.

"Hey, what're ya' doin'? We're still in public, even if we're basically sittin' in a bush." Even when he scolds you, it doesn't feel like he means it, and with the way your foreheads press together, you're sure he's just glad you're sentient again. Pushing him down a little further, you manage to rest your nose to his neck and the way he rests his temple to yours feels warmer than you have all day. He mentions class, but even as the words leave him, they hold no conviction.

"Mamm', 'm cold." You pull him closer then and he complies, intent on giving you anything you want. "Can't do another class. Wanna go home." There's an obvious fight behind his eyes, but it only lasts a moment before he's sighing dramatically and getting you to your feet. Once stood, he looks as deeply into your eyes as he can and considers his next actions. You decide then that you might milk this just a little more, since he's already been so kind to you all day. "Carry me, Jewel Bug." You lean in and whisper the words against him, feigning a soft wobble like you didn't just drag him out here on your own two feet.

Instantly he concedes and picks you up on his back. The walk home feels languid but there's nowhere else you'd rather be than with him like this. The way his hair smells, the feel of his deceptively strong back, the soft, whispery voice he uses to check on you as you make your way back the House of Lamentation, it all feels more comforting than even a good night's sleep might. "Love you Mamm'.." You whisper to him, a soft confession in his ear that he's heard hundreds of times before. Still though, it manages to make his shoulders shake and you snicker to yourself as you get comfortable on his back.

Being home feels refreshing but you aren't satisfied until your dressed down and crawling onto your bed. Mammon adjusts the blankets before crawling in beside you and in moments, you're cozy, warm, and beginning to nod off. In your weary mind, you have a sudden memory of wanting to thank everyone for their kindness and consideration from this morning. The thought pulses behind your heavy lips and you fight to push the words out for your lover.

"Thanks, Mamm'... You've been so good to me all day.... good to me always" His body stills like you burnt him and when pulls you close it's like he needs it to survive. "Love you... Stay with me?" The greed demon is defeated immediately by the soft, sleepy lilt to your voice, not that he ever stood a chance. He buries his face in your chest and nuzzles into you desperately. When you thread you fingers into his hair, he whines like the puppy Simeon had said he was.

Without another word, you pick yourself off the couch and make your way to the kitchen. The usual routine of fixing a late meal and a coffee before sneaking upstairs to Lucifer's bedroom. Of all the residents in the House of Lamentation, yours is the only one welcome behind his cursed door, and you wear that like a crown as you knock before entering. It's not as if he's in here anyway, but just in case, you'd rather not have to fight Cerberus back from his master's only meal of the day (allegedly). Collecting the house coat and some comfortable clothes, you tidy a little, picking up the few things that have fallen into disarray in the pride demon's overwork. The usually polished man has an image to keep up after all.

Stepping in the same rhythm as Barbatos might, you find your way to his study. How many memories do you have in this room? It feels like your entire time in the Devildom has been orbiting the eldest or in his spaces and when you put the food down beside him, he barely lifts his head to greet you. A hand finds his back, smoothing out the creases in his vest and still he doesn't lift his head. Part of you worries he's become expectant of you to chase him around like a dog, and while it isn't far from the truth, you still find that it bothers you.

Mostly, your irritation comes from the fact he doesn't greet you anymore when you show up like this. He loves you, surely (he wouldn't have tried to die for you otherwise) but you don't want your relationship to be the same routine of welcoming him home and then catering to him for a minute before fucking off alone so he can work. You click your tongue and when that too receives nothing, you huff out a little grunt and drop his clothes onto his hand and the stack of papers he's staring at.

Of course, that gets his attention and as he's about to grind out a complaint or scolding, you slip your arms around his neck and kiss into his hair whorl. The motion seems to stun him just long enough for you to wrap yourself around him properly and rest your cheek to his crown. For a moment, there's no movement and then his hands find your waist and pull you tightly to him. He kisses your abdomen where he can reach it and he says your name like an apology. When your eyes meet that same crimson as before, it couldn't be more different.

"I'm sorry, darling. I didn't mean to ignore you." He doesn't say he's overwhelmed with work, but a quick glance to the unseemly mountain of papers says it for him. Bringing a hand up to caress his face seems to melt his tension a little and you pull him from his chair, if only for a moment. In front of you like this, arms around your middle and eyes soft with affection, you relax against your partner and stroke his cheek once more. "I missed you, though I can't offer you a proper date, would you like to sit with me as I finish this?" The offer feels warm and you consider his tired face as you mull it over.

"On one condition" His eyes dance along your features, trying to predict your next request before he settles a little. "I want to hold you while you work." His settling continues and you're worried he might melt into you at the request. His body is clearly tired and if you had a choice, you'd usher him up to bed this very instance. Instead, he nods but doesn't agree.

"I simply won't be able to focus with you in my arms." The words slip out in a sigh, and you pout at him while he seems to deflate instead of melt. "I'm sorry, my lamb." Before he can swoop in with his trademark apology kiss, you turn your nose and offer him a coy smile.

"I didn't ask you to hold me, Firefly. I believe I specifically requested the opposite." He scrunches his nose a little as he considers what you're saying and then straightens up a little more. You can see some of your lover coming back to himself, enamored with you as he is, and then a soft nod.

"Show me what you had in mind, darling." and you rush out from between his arms to move his large armchair out of the way. Lucifer watches you rush around and grab a less comfortable chair with a lower back and when you place it at his desk he frowns at you. "I assure you this chair is much less comfortable than my other one."

"Perfect, then you won't be compelled to sit in it all night" with a wink, you lower him into the chair with a hand on his shoulder. His eyes never leave you but as soon as his butt hits the seat, he returns his attention to his work. It feels like he's under a spell and you take the chance to slide your hands over his shoulders and down his chest. While he manages to keep his head forward, it's obvious his attention is on you. Taking your time, you manage to undo his buttons and ease him out of the restrictive fabric until he's sat there in only his open button-up. An obvious tension sits in his shoulders and when you lean down to kiss at his nape, he visibly trembles at the touch.

When he says your name this time, it's a plea for mercy. "I can't right now. Regardless of how you try to seduce me." Voice firm but you're sure you could break his will if you tried (Not that you were going to right now anyway). Instead of answering out right, you simply tug his shirt down further behind him to reveal the tops of his shoulders and spend a moment simply ogling him and the way goosebumps form in the cool air. He's waiting for something- damn near desperate for you to continue, but he fights all the same to focus. It feels cruel and sates some sadistic part of you, but you also have a task to focus on.

Leaving your hands on his shoulders seems to steady him enough to begin writing one more and you wait until he's hit a stride before you slip your hands over the blades of his back. Thumbs massage into his muscle and he can't help the soft hum that leaves him at the motion. Lucifer's back is expressive in a way no other part of him is and you pride yourself on being fluent. The muscle contracts when you dance over a sensitive spot but seems to relax when you dig your finger into the tense flesh. Your fingers dance around the wide planes and you take the moment to appreciate just touching him again, being close and intimate in this romantic way, after so long apart. Almost on instinct, your nose finds his nape and you over him a soft series of kisses from the base of his skull to his ear, than back and over to the other- hands never stopping in their light caresses.

Rubbing circles into his shirt continues until your hands wander to his front once more. They glide over his shoulders, stalling only to knead at his posture and then proceed to his chest. Soft hands with fingers spread wide, you drag your touch along every inch of him, the action less sensual than needy. When was the last time he let you touch him? When was the last time you were allowed to just feel his heat against you? You take the opportunity he's offered you and kiss soft, butterfly kisses to his neck, hears, head and shoulders- all the places you'd been missing as he worked away. When your kisses travel down passed his collar, one vertebra at a time, he finally snaps and spins around in his uncomfortable chair.

Crimson sears you with the heat he's holding back, and you blink at him a moment before he collects you in his arms. In an instant you're in his lap, hands held together with one of his own, and his lips find yours (chasing each of the kisses you'd pressed into his skin.) The whole thing leaves you stuttering and breathless, so absorbed in the soft, leisurely pace you'd set. Between kisses, (not that there's much time between them), Lucifer snarls out another vain reminder that he has work to do. As much as you try, you can't seem to feign remorse for your actions. At some point in the assault, you manage remind him that all you'd wanted to do was hold him while he worked and had gotten carried away since it had been so long and that seems to kill his momentum.

He stares at you, the abrupt stop and his piercing glare making your head spin. Since you can't find the will to fill the silence, he pulls you close like you're precious and whispers your name in apology once more. "I'm sorry, I've been neglecting you." His anticipation seems to soften and when he kisses you next, it's a long, sensual thing that makes your fingers tingle and your stomach flip. "I love you. I've lost myself in these documents and all you've done is support and dote on me." He sighs into your mouth and shuts his eyes as if he were too embarrassed to face you. "Forgive me, my lamb. I've been horrible to you."

Not that you'd needed an apology, but hearing the words, feeling his remorse, it makes your heart ache for him all over again. This time, you lean up to kiss him and the way your bodies settle together reminds you of how much he means to you. "Then, I want a date." He looks at you then, a calculating look before he smiles as soft as he's able. "When it's all done. I want you to spoil me, take me out and shower me with adoration. I want your attention, your time, and your focus. Look at me the with the same dedication as you put towards those damn papers." He laughs then (not his usual condescending one, but something softer, more honest) and it melts your heart. The next kiss is a sealing of the deal, another pact between you and a promise of his love.

"On one condition." The repetition of your earlier words surprises you in wake of the kiss (what you thought was a sealing of the deal). Nodding, you wait for whatever request he might make but you hadn't anticipated the way he leans forward and nips at your lower lip, still puffy with too many (not enough) kisses. "Until it's all done, don't torture me with such desperate affections." He nuzzles your nose with his and you groan a little. "I haven't completed a single document since your lips first touched my neck. How am I meant to put my mind anywhere but here?" A thumb slides against your cupid's bow, down to your chin and the shiver that shoots through you makes him chuckle.

"I love your back, Luci." Soft eyes trail down your features, and he shakes his head fondly.

"I know, darling." Another soft, final kiss before he's leaning back and ushering you out of his arms.

"My love, are you alright? You look dumbstruck. Are you feeling well?" His large hands find your waist and chin like coming home and yet you still can't tilt your head up from his chest. When you don't respond, he presses his nose against yours, filling your vision with that sharp gold that could peel secrets from your very genes. All you can manage to do is blink at him, the complete reset of your brain is taking longer than you'd anticipated. He simply waits, gentledemon that he is, and you place your hand on his shoulders to steady yourself as you try to live through the boot-up process.

Any progress that you'd managed seems to disappear as your fingers trace the strong, defined muscle by his clavicle. The way the normally firm skin there dips, pulled down by the dainty little strap of the lingerie is the final straw to your already wavering resolve and you fall forward into his powerful embrace. You think you might be drooling, and when he cups your face, thumb running along your lip, you're sure it's true. Words have left you; strength has left you and when he picks you up in a flourish, carrying you to his bed, you’re sure your reason has left with them.

The soft dip of the mattress is all the sensation you can analyze as he fills your vision again. Half crawled on top of you; he examines your face for answers while calling your name in a growing concern. "Are you alright? What's happened? Barbatos! They need some water please!" He calls out to the hallway, sure that his butler will heed his request, but you can barely sense anything passed his body heat and honey-sweet breath. Without the need to hold yourself up, all you really can do is look, and if there was ever a time to gawk at your lover, now was it.

The crowned prince of the Devildom is caging you against his California king sized bed, elbows on either side of the pillow, biceps close enough to kiss. His expression reads as concern and nervous confidence as he searches for the reason behind your slack jaw and wide eyes. His eyes are arresting, as panicked as they are, and his strong features and soft lips only make it all the worse. You want to kiss him, want to lean forward and suck his tongue in your mouth as you fondle him, desperate to touch what his face is blocking from view. When his forehead pressed to your steaming skin again, you let out a soft whine and he jerks back like he's burned you. The moment sits, the noise registering and then suddenly his terror turns to a relieved fondness.

Sliding forward onto the bed- and consequentially, you- he nuzzles into your neck, peppering your chin and cheeks with soft, comforting kisses. The gesture is meant to be comforting, but your legs wrap around his waist involuntarily in response. He laughs again, not nearly as humoured as it had been when you walked into his room, but he collects you in his arms all the same, sitting back and carrying you with him. In this new position, straddling his lap as he supports your thighs and backside, he gives you a soft shake of his head. "You scared me. I thought there was something wrong, but you seem to have just been appreciating this. Hm?" He leans back a little, making some distance and letting you get a proper, up-close look at the delicate red bralette he's got on. It fits him suspiciously well and you want to trace the strings with your tongue.

Gold never leaves you, drinking in your expression and the way your body tremors in his hold. The longer you stare the more satisfied he seems to be and when he encourages you to touch him you go into autopilot. His pecs are soft and fill your hands easily, the muscle well defined and perfectly supple. Biting into them is one of your favourite pastimes and he chuckles deep and endeared when you drag your thumbs along the lace. There are a million questions as to how he's come into possession of such a fine thing and yet every word leaves you as your fingers dance along the intricate fabric. You swallow hard, intent on thanking him for the meal, but all that comes out is a strangled whimper as your fingers sink into his bouncy tits.

His laugh shoots through you again, the loud, honest sound of it bounces around you ribs but this time, you shiver into him and rest your head on his shoulder to catch your breath. If you'd wanted to keep your head on, this was a mistake and you only realize when his hands drift from supporting your thighs the stroking up your hips with a firm grip. Another shiver, but this time he holds you through it. His lips at your ear encourage your hands and you feel yourself grinding against his middle with all of the need in the galaxy. When he grips you tighter, pulling you away just barely and turning his lips from your ear, you almost beg for him to come back- to touch and fondle you like a beast- before the sound of footsteps stop you.

Peeling your face from his shoulder, you blink at the butler. The man as the decency to not look you in the eye during your depravity but offers Diavolo the glass of water he'd asked for anyhow. The prince takes it with a soft nod, and the time demon removes himself with a grace you'd be impressed by, if you weren't so embarrassed to be seen like a dog in heat. Diavolo offers you the cup, and you take it as an excuse to hide your face for a moment. When it's empty, he lays you back down against the pillows and kisses you soft and firm, intent on tasting you deeply before saying his final piece on the matter. "How is it?" He brings your hand up to the underside of his pec and you brush his nipple with your thumb on reflex. All you can do is drool a little more and nod, but he seems to take the hint. "So, I should leave this on then?" Your nodding becomes more frantic, and he laughs heartily before diving back into your needy lips.

Later, when you've damn near chewed the lace to pieces, he pets your shoulders as rest against the swell of his chest. His large hands soothe the ache of your muscles wherever he slides it, and you feel yourself begin to drift towards sleep under his ministrations. It's only when you nuzzle your nose against him once more, savouring the soft bounce of his heavy naturals that you snap yourself back to sense against the saliva-wet lace. "Who gave this to you, Dia?" He opens his eyes at the sound of your voice but only offers you a soft tilt of the head. You feel a soft prickle of concern but know that he'd never disrespect you or break your trust. Still- who was staring hard enough at your lover’s chest to know his size so well?

"My love, I bought this." That doesn't register properly in your head, and you blink at him until he continues. "Do you remember, last week you'd been scrolling on your phone? You showed me some celebrity in a long coat and something like this." The memory flashes briefly, vaguely familiar in your post-coital brain but you nod at him anyway. "I thought it looked very modern while still being quite classy. And since you're so fond of my chest," He brings one hand up to cup at his pec and you groan in a way that makes him laugh. "I thought I might try it on and see how I felt, so Barbatos acquired one for me." The thought of your powerful, demon prince lover wearing a pair of nice suit pants and a long statement coat, with a bralette underneath makes your head drop back down and your shoulders vibrate. Diavolo says nothing as you try to process the fantasy, but when your body starts moving on it's own, he pulls you up to kiss you with a renewed fire.

"Perhaps I should keep such outfits for us only?" His voice darkens with his eyes, and you groan into another kiss. "You seem to be unraveling for me, darling. I'd hate to put you through this sort of torment if we were out." He kisses you again and he more he does, the more you melt into him. Your hands find his chest again and despite the bites and bruises you've sucked into them already; he encourages you to squeeze him to your hearts content. When he pulls away, it's with a soft laugh and a sweet smile. "I'll wear this for you, any time you like, my crown." And the thought makes you shiver like a leaf in a hurricane.

"Maybe I should buy something to match then? Surprise you with it next, my throne." The words hang between you a moment and then something seems to catch in Diavolo's hot stare.

"Oh? Did you finally get intimate with member of your debate club?" Lucifer's voice carries something dark and flat and just the sound of it makes you feel guilty for something that isn't true.

"They're not in debate, stupid. It was some math thing." Belphie doesn't even lift his head from his laid-out position.

"That doesn't sound right either... what little group did you join, hon? Something lame and nerdy, but I don't think it was math?" Even Asmo was being pointed and if you had to listen to one more of them jab at you for doing someone a favour, you might actually cry.

"Shut up, all of you." That seems to catch the group of them off guard, but you can at least see a bit of guilt in Mammon and Leviathan. Marching to the center of the room, you offer them all a glare before clearing up their dumb misconceptions. "First of all, I haven't joined any clubs. I've been staying after school as a favour to Diavolo and Barbatos." Satan looks like he might argue with that, but you point at him with a warning and he closes his mouth quickly. "Some fortune reading club was supposed to do a tournament, but it seems some members got sick. They needed numbers so I was thrown at them at the behest of your fucking prince." They all seem to deflate, their anger dissipating in lieu of the new information. "I have not been out 'having fun' or 'getting chummy' with anyone. I've been practicing my butt off just to lose a competition for R.A.D, and now everyone here is mad at me because you don't listen when I tell you what I've been up to?!" There are absolutely tears in your eyes and this isn't worth it anymore.

Turning on your heel, you trudge out of the sitting room towards yours. Everything was too much and you just wanted a shower and sleep. Originally, you'd wanted a hug and some head pats but seeing everyone had made you feel even worse. Not only did they not listen to any time you'd explained what you were doing, they also got mad at you for having fun with other people- as if there was any fun to your third, consecutive wrong prediction in front of an auditorium of demons, all sneering at your novice mistakes. Even the team had been disheartened, though they tried desperately to hide it from you. Standing in the shower, you mutter into your hands about not even wanting to have participated as you scrub your face clean. Today was awful and you weren't sure how you could face the fortune telling club again, let alone Diavolo and Barbatos.

Though you were always being shoved into ridiculous situations, you were always earnestly trying your best. Sometimes support was what you needed, sometimes it was tutoring, but you'd always managed to make your way through somehow. This time, without any net at all, you failed spectacularly and it just keeps playing in your head. No part of you enjoys losing, but more than that you had hoped for sympathy and consolation. Coming home to that atmosphere, none of them even bothering to show up to the event itself, it all hurt twice as much. Maybe if you'd seen even one of their faces in the crowd, you might have snuck out a miracle. Instead, you were using the shower to mask the sound of your soft hiccups, trying to get through the misery before you needed to step out of the bathroom.

Half an hour later, you manage to slump your way into sleep clothes and back to bed, only to find that there's a plate of cookies and a few notes on your neat blankets. Part of you wants to throw them to the ground and just go to sleep but you're a curious person and pick up the folded paper. As you'd expected, it's a series of apologies from the brothers. They all take turns repenting in their own ways and you feel that familiar guilt in your chest that makes you want to forgive them immediately, but you hold strong all the same. Moving the plate to the table, you re-read the papers and then crawl underneath your blankets. With the lights off, you try to focus on nothing, letting your mind wander as you hope for sleep to take you.

It's because the room is dark and you're trying to free your mind that you notice the sliver of light across your wall instantly. The tell-tale sign of someone cracking your door open and peeking in. If the light didn't alert you to their presence, then their inevitable squabbling takes over until they're not even pretending to whisper anymore. When you can hear every word and everyone clearly, you roll over to face the door, an unimpressed frown on your tired features.

"Hey." It's a warning and seems to catch a few of them off guard. They all immediately hush and the door creaks open to reveal the lot of them crowding it. Clearly, they were hoping you'd be willing to talk to them again, after their peace offering, but you're tired and hurt and just want to sleep. Still, that annoying pull in your chest forces you to sit up and you let them in despite the weight in your bones.

At once, they clamber to you, like children lost without the direction of a parent. You pet heads and accept apologies, but it all feels thin until Beelzebub lifts you into a huge bear hug and buries his face into your shoulder. There's a quiet that spills over everyone and when he speaks, you feel the rumble of his deep voice against your back. "I'm sorry. We all missed you when you started coming home late. It wasn't fair that we didn't listen to what you said and assumed the worst." Another apology, but something about this one flicks a switch and you feel yourself tear up again. It seems to set them off again, and instead of holding back your upset, you let it play out in front of them.

"Good morning!" He calls to you as he slows his jog, stopping in front of you and taking a moment to catch his breath. He offers you a hug, and you wrap your arms around him and inhale a little too eagerly. The sound makes his shoulders stiffen and then there's a tremor in his powerful frame as he laughs. His arms seem to tighten around you, and you revel in the moment, enjoying his strength and the musk of his building sweat. After a moment, he pulls away almost reluctantly. "Are you ready to go for our run?"

His stare feels almost as warm as his hug had been and you nearly lean in to kiss him in your early morning delirium. For a moment, you think he leans in as well but then nothing happens. Your foreheads touch and he pets your face before pulling away. It takes you a moment to recalibrate but then you're nodding at him and getting the move on.

The jog starts just as miserably as your morning had. Even with the heartthrob beside you, you're still fighting with your own body to try to keep your feet moving. It feels like running through high snow, each lift of your legs heavy enough to nearly trip you up. Diavolo seems to clue in that you're moving slower than he is and matches pace but doesn't bring attention to your sluggish movements or heavy breathing. Being a demon sure has its benefits- or maybe he's just actually as fit as his body leads on. You spare him a glance and catch his eye. He winks at you and you nearly trip over your feet.

Diavolo does seems apologetic at your stumble and makes more of an effort to keep his head forward. After about 20 minutes, he seems to take pity on your continued struggle and offers to take a short break. When you find a small spot for respite, you crouch down, fighting the urge to collapse to the floor and finish your last few hours of sleep. Hunched over in your own misery, you whine to yourself and almost don't notice the water bottle he's offering you. You'd opted to keep your protein shake, hoping to get whatever stimulant you could from the pre-workout, but now after 20 minutes, water sounded almost better than sleep. Almost.

Without thinking too hard on it, you grab the bottle and chug down a third of it. The liquid is ice cold, and you feel an elation spread through you wherever the freeze spreads. It feels wonderful and when large arms envelop you, blanketing around you in your squat, you consider running to be one of your favourite activities. Diavolo whispers your name and the freeze turns to fire in your pit, the sensation better than any runner's high could ever be. "Thank you for joining me today. I meant it when I said I'd take any excuse to spend more time with you." His hands slip beneath your sweatshirt, and you let out a breathy noise that you've never heard yourself make. "I'd love to continue this routine, but if it's too much for you, we can call it a good experiment and leave things be."

The sudden jerk of your head nearly knocks one of his teeth out and you're suddenly grateful for how sturdy demons are. His arms do loosen in response to the sudden jolt, and you have to be quick to spin around in his arms and drop all of your weight to him. While he is the most powerful demon in commission, your sudden movement still manage to catch him off guard and knock him over, leaving you sprawled out on top of him. Not that either of you seem to mind. He calls your name again, a question, laced with concern.

"I'll be up on time tomorrow too. Don't go running without me" and while it doesn't sound as firm as you'd hoped, you still see the shift in his golden stare. The surprised expression fades quickly into one of pleased acceptance. Diavolo was always one to meet you where you were and whenever you stepped up and declared your intentions, he seemed to melt for you. Now was no different and you let your eyes flutter as his hands continue to you pull you close underneath the hem of your athletic top. When you shiver, he seems to come back to himself and your position, stopping abruptly and sitting you both up.

"I wouldn't dream of it." Leaning down to your position in his arms, he nuzzles your nose before shifting and kissing your cheek. The upset is clear on your face and when you grab his collar and smash your lips together, it's his turn to melt into you. Exhausted and sleepless as you are, your patience is thin for such bullshit and he seems to clue in immediately. "I'm sorry, my crown. We are in public though" catching the obviously unbothered expression on you only results in a loud, hearty laugh and that high from before dances in the back of your head.

The run ends after another 20 minutes and when he drops you off back at the House of Lamentation, it's with a great start to your morning. Getting a proper kiss and some quality time with the man, you decide that a little morning exercise is a perfect way to start you day, especially when the rest of it, you're walking around in an amazing mood. Even the brothers manage to comment on how you're glowing as they mooch off your notes in class. It was an excuse to stare at your gorgeous prince and get some movement in at the start of your day. As you prepare for bed that night, you remind yourself of how good Diavolo had looked, misted in a light sweat under the morning stars. For that image alone, you decide you'd get up at any hour of the day.

"You're the only one for me! I can't live without ya!", two chat bubbles, one after the other and you feel your face heat hotter than the flame boiling your project. When you go fully unresponsive, trying to find the words to respond to your favourite demon, Lucifer takes the chance to read your conversation over your shoulder. He always was just as nosy as the rest of them. The eldest scoffs in your ear but leans back into his own space once he's realized you're enamoured with event. Though you're almost certain you hear him make a small 'humph' noise as he gives returns your space.

There are no thoughts in your head as you read and re-read the messages. The thought that the avatar of greed, usual tsundere that he was, finally confessed open and honestly to you makes your skin vibrate and your face twist into a huge grin. At some point you think you might be giggling to yourself but then you hear Lucifer's voice snap you from your moment. "You should probably answer him" and you nearly jump out of your seat at the sudden reminder you're in public. Blushing at the pride demon only seems to deepen his pout but he leaves you to your business all the same.

"Oh Mammon!" is all you can think to say, the entire ordeal still unfathomable, despite being right in front of you. When he responds with a bashful sticker, you feel your heart soar and when he offers to say it to your face next time, you damn near squeal in the middle of your lab. You want to show Lucifer and gush about it, to celebrate and dance and run around but that might be cruel with the way he's currently acting. So you try to compose yourself, try to center your mind and calm the humming in your muscles as you try to think of a reply. Mammon finally confessed after all, you had to say something back-

Then the next message comes in and you want to sink into the earth. "The lead in the school play got sick and asked me to take his role." Ah. So, this wasn't a confession, just a reciting of lines. Blinking at the screen doesn't seem to clear anything up and you feel your heart crash back to earth as he contemplates whether he should help his friend out. You sit there a moment before putting your phone down on the bench and then laying your head right next to it. The sensation isn't sadness, you know very well that the demon does love you, but you just want to hear it said outright. The back and forth is exhausting and while he obviously meant it, they were just lines. You feel tired.

Lucifer seems to clue into your sudden change and leans over to read through the conversation himself. He pets your head when he's decided that your reaction warrants comfort. "Don't look so disappointed. Mammon is a fool on his best days" you knew he was right, but it still sucked the life out of you to hear that the little confession you'd hoped for was a farce. "Are the words that important to you? Do you not know how he feels without verbal confirmation?" Despite his sulking before, Lucifer is consoling you like a champion. You lean into his hand and then straighten yourself just enough to press your head to his shoulder, he takes you in his arms easily and you wonder what might be different if you had fallen in love with the eldest instead.

"Don't look so disheartened, little lamb. I'm sure the day will come where he can't keep his thoughts to himself." His body is warm and you revel in it as he soothes your spiral. Agreeing with him, you opt to lock your phone screen and move on with the project, unwilling to answer the greed demon when you were feeling this raw about something silly. As you grab the phone though, lifting it towards you, something catches your attention. A final message to the thread, and a last thought that seems to build that hum right back up.

"There's only one person who I wanna say this kinda stuff to anyway..."

You stare at the message for a moment longer before turning your face into Lucifer's shoulder and squealing into the layers of his school uniform. His soft, soothing touch seems to disappear as his shoulders tense and his face hardens again. The expression shifts from concerned and cooing to usual look he wears when one of his brothers is explaining why the house is on fire again. Maybe you'd taken too much of his sympathy to bounce back so quickly. When he pushes you away, it's gentle, but still irritated all the same.

You decide to climb the stairs, making your way to the inner rooms of the structure and towards Diavolo's office. He's usually here around this time and when you peek your head in, you're surprised to find a half-eaten sandwich and cold cup of coffee. Squinting, you lift the mug and swirl the drink around as you try to piece together this mystery, pretending to be a 50's detective. It's the most fun you've had all day and you lean against the desk and talk to a plant in the corner about the specifics of the case and describe Diavolo as some gorgeous broad who's up and vanished in the middle of the night.

During your third spin around in Diavolo's chair, you hear a polite knock at the door. You still the chair but don't immediately jump to your feet when Barbatos clears his throat and steps into the room. Long legs stalk towards you and for a moment you worry he's going to eat you whole for your transgressions. "Forgive me, I had begun to think that the young lord had company. I can see now he still hasn't returned from his... walk." The demon smiles at you but the temperature drops and you can feel the irritation as it vibrates through the air. His stoic expression doesn't move but you've stared at that handsome face long enough to see the differences.

"He ran away again?" The question seems to stiffen his posture, and you hiss as you stand, the fate of the prince of demons looking bleak. His desk is stacked high with papers and folders, and you'd been careful not to move anything, but you still hold the mug, gesturing at Barbatos with his master's lunch. "Need a hand luring him out?" Sharp teal eyes snap to your face and seem to hum with energy. It's really hot and you force yourself to keep the contact.

"That is the main reason I brought you here, my dear." The term of endearment is the most he'll let himself scold you with but damn if it doesn't shoot straight to your gut. Smiling against your better judgement, you offer him a wink and reassure him that you're on the case. You watch his face fall a little when you're not taking this too seriously, but you assure him that it's with good nature that you'll find your suspect. Barbatos is fighting down his frustration, and you can't help but marvel at his self-control.

"Come on then, teacup. Let's go find our man." Your own little nickname seems to surprise him out of his tension and it's with a scoff and a head shake that he joins you as you begin your search. It takes you around the major parts of the castle and you nearly trip over the Little Ds as they rush to pick up the butler's slack while he plays babysitter. Exploring is usually fun but with the ever-growing frustration of the butler beside you, you can't seem to find the usual appeal. He seems to center himself after every empty room and when you finally decide to stop to reassess, you can't find a trace of his usually polite smile. If the time-demon's mask has dropped, you can only imagine how truly livid he is.

"Think he'll answer if I call?" The pointed glare tells you that was probably something you should have tried an hour ago. With a sheepish smile, you tap on his contact information and almost pray he doesn't answer to save yourself the shame. It seems that Diavolo is intent on disappointing everyone today though, and he answers with such a jovial tone that you feel the air shift around you, Barbatos seething behind his composed expression. "Ah, hey Dia... I was just wondering if you were free right now?" You know from experience that just outright asking is usually an alarm for the man.

"Yes, though I would find the time for you, even if I weren't free. I was just visiting a cafe that Asmodeus took a photo in the other day. He insists it's amazing and I felt I should give their new special a try before it was taken off the menu. Would you like to come join me?" The longer he talks, the more you feel the guilt press into your shoulders. He's always talkative with you, but now, it's a curse. Trying to keep the ruse up, you let out a customer-service laugh and offer Barbatos a smile.

"I wouldn't miss out on that for the world, Dia! I'll be there just as soon as I can, will you wait there for me?" Without hesitation he agrees and hangs up with a too familiar sign off. The butler gives you an unimpressed look as you hang up the phone and you're unsure the root of his displeasure anymore. Part of you wants him to be jealous, the other knows it's probably just the situation, but as he waits for you to confirm the location, you try to offer him your most apologetic pout. He doesn't falter and when you've shown him the specific shop from Asmo's post, he opens a portal without saying anything more.

Immediately, you're in front of the shop and you waste no time finding the large, handsome demon. Rushing forward, you remind yourself to use his title in public and when he greets you it's with a too tight hug and a wide smile. He has no idea of his fate, and you almost wish you'd gone home and stayed bored instead. "That was much faster than I had anticipated. Your teleportation magic has gotten much better! How wonderful!" Such a sweet soul. Finding as much energy as you can, you offer him a smile and pat his bicep.

"No, uh... It's still about the same as it was last week, I just happened to get here through... different means." whether it was your tone or the specific words, you watch his smile shrink and his eyes widen. The expression of excitement shifts into one of fear and you can feel your career as a detective ending. Diavolo looks past you and seems to lock eyes with his retainer. He looks back down at you, and you feel your resolve break. You were never cut out for this line of work.

"Ah, Barbatos. I was just taking a short break. I had some errands to run you see." He straightens his back and puts his best regal mask on, but you can still see the way he's sweating underneath that smile. You look between the two of them and part of you wants to run away and hide but Barbatos approach makes moving impossible for both of you. When his words seem to do nothing, Diavolo frowns and looks back to the window of the shop. "I believe they've just finished cleaning the table. I've been waiting some time..." His pleading falls on deaf ears and Barbatos simply opens a portal back to the castle in response. The next king of the Devildom looks like a sad child.

"How thoughtful of you to reserve a seat for me and our human. We'll be sure to enjoy the limited time dessert for you." It becomes too difficult to look either man in the eye and you bite your lip as you wait for whatever happens next. "Perhaps, if you complete the time sensitive reports before we've finished our date, we'll bring some back for you as well, my lord." That little bit of grace is all Barbatos will offer and when Diavolo manages to smile through his defeat, you feel a little less horrible. He shuffles through the portal into his office, and you offer him a wave as the server comes out to collect him. With a quick explanation and a closing of the portal, you make your way inside the cafe for your date.

Though it might be at the suffering of the young lord, you do find yourself enjoying your impromptu break. Most of the demons here like to joke about taking you out but sitting with Barbatos feels like a luxury. Soon enough you've almost forgotten about Diavolo's plight, too enamoured with the steward’s charm and slowly easing muscles. Both of you seem to lose yourselves and you almost miss the window to place one more order before the cafe closes for the evening. The walk back to the house of Lamentation is quiet and fond and you almost forget yourself and reach for his hand. Your hands hesitate once the door is unlocked, turning back to thank Barbatos for a wonderful evening and bringing some excitement to your day.

"My dear," the endearment is much less threatening this time. "It's the least I can do after ruining your original dinner plans." You blink at him a moment before you realize you'd left your dinner in Diavolo's office, right under his mug. The demon chuckles to himself, bringing a hand to his face as he considers you in full. He's in a great mood now and you make a joke about casualties in the line of work. That seems to strike some inspiration in him and he steps forward now, closing the distance.

"Forgive me, I haven't paid your steep fees yet, have I?" Your mouth goes dry, he's much closer than he had been all night and while his rage was something to fear, you find yourself ten times as nervous now. You want to shake off his words, but Barbatos doesn't usually play along like this. It's all new to you when he leans in and kisses you, soft and chaste on the lips before pulling away with a mischievous smirk. You're sure your eyes are wider than Dia's were earlier- your face is definitely redder. "There, now we're all settled up, detective." He chuckles again and takes a step back.

This feeling was surprisingly close to boredom, you muse as you float towards your bedroom. While it had been mind-numbing and led you to daydream just to fill the time, now it was a pleasant thrumming and flights of fancy. Collapsing onto your bed, you stare at the ceiling, playing back all the things you'd talked about, all of the soft touches and looks during your date. It all felt surreal, dream-like even and you’re content to pass out right there thinking of the butler.

He responds how you would expect but it eases your mood and makes you laugh all the same. He's dumbfounded and you can imagine the way his eyebrows furrow, but his eyes widen in bewilderment. You let yourself acknowledge how cute that actually is before ignoring the rest of his texts. You resume your videos and fight back the fit of laughter as he further defends himself and then begins raving about his pureness as a fan. After the fifth response, you open your messages to read them out properly and notice he abruptly ends when he realizes you haven't been responding. You allow yourself a smile as you realize he's learning. Good behaviour deserves good feedback.

Peelings yourself from your spot on the couch, you pet Belphie's sleeping head as you pass by him towards the kitchen. With some snacks in hand, you rush up the stairs two at a time to get to your favourite nerd. A knock on the door, a declared password before the security question can even be asked and you're yanking the door open and throwing a bag of chips at his head. Leviathan yelps at the sudden intrusion and assault but once he's regained his senses, you can see the cute little scowl he wears when you embarrass him. When he whines your name it's with the usual intensity behind his fanboy rants.

Just as he begins to go off on why you should care about his idol group's sudden style switch, you rip open the bag you'd brought and curl up in his bathtub with a blanket. He seems to wait for you, pausing at the sound and turning to face you in his crisscross applesauce position. With a mouth full of chips, you offer him a thumbs up and he begins firing off lore like he was trying to win a race. Leviathan rants at you for a long time, and it's only when you've gotten halfway through the bag of chips that you hold out a hand to stop him in his tracks.

Sputtering to a stop in the middle of a point about the appeal of cutesy outfits, you turn the bag of chips to him. At first, he doesn't seem to clue into what you're offering but you shake the bag again and he fits you with a pointed look. "Did you seriously just stop me to offer me a snack?" His brows furrow and he waves a hand at you before turning back to the game he's had on pause for an hour. "If you weren't even going to take this seriously, why did you come to see me? You looked perfectly comfortable cuddled up beside Belphie..." That unique brand of jealousy only urges you forward and you clamber out of the bathtub to bop him with the snack bag instead.

"Slow your roll there, Weenie-hut Jr. I'm taking it super seriously! Do you think retelling an idol groups entire history is easy work? Are you even taking this seriously?" You bend over at the waist to fit him with a 'super-serious' pout, and his eyes seem to widen and shine all at once. He stares at you in that way that makes you feel important and you offer him a determined little smile. "If you don't keep up your energy, then you'll stumble through the finale. Come on! Show me how much of a Chocolate Heartbreak superfan you really are!" He takes a handful of chips and shoves them into his mouth at your goading. While he chews, you get comfortable beside him and take his controller. You haven't played this game before, but he'll tell you if you're doing something wrong.

His monologue goes long enough into the night that you're nearly falling asleep where you sit. You know you should probably clean up the empty snack bags and go brush your teeth, but you can't even keep your eyes open. The conversation has shifted but Leviathan is still the one doing most of the talking. Following along is much harder now and one moment you're watching a cutscene, the next you're blinking your eyes open as he's picking you up in a bridal carry. You catch his eye and he nearly yelps when you do, face red and eyes still wide and shiny as before. "Ah, sorry. You fell asleep, so I was going to take you back to your room." The thought of that irritates you, so you whap him in the forehead and grumble something inaudible into his shoulder. It takes all his willpower to keep talking once you've curled against him, but he manages to ask you what you said.

"Let me sleep here, tonight. Bathtub." Levi only nods, still a little uncertain as he lays you in his usual sleeping place and then tries to unbend himself. Your arms don't release from around his neck, and he makes another weak yelp noise as you mutter out more direction. "Together."

The lights, the sounds, the city, and demons around you rush in your peripheral as you lock your eyes onto the soft pink hair of the man in front of you. He's captivating, gorgeous, and even with the soft pang of longing thrumming beneath your skin, you still can't keep your attention off him. Letting yourself be dragged along, you chase after him for what feels like hours, only to have him stop abruptly behind some skids in an alleyway. Asmodeus pulls you close to him, casting something to hide your presence as the sound of footsteps get closer and then pass by your hiding spot. You watch him watching the street and when he finally turns to you, it makes you forget you were being chased in the first place. Not that you were really paying attention to it at all.

"Sorry hon, as much as I love all my cute fans, I just wanted to be alone with you a little longer." His manicured brow dips in apology and you feel your blood vibrate through your body. Without conscious effort, you bring a hand up to pet his flawless skin and he melts into you the way you'd melted into that kiss. "I wish they'd stop interrupting us all the time. I can't believe this was the first time I actually got to kiss you on a date" He whines against your palm and the fluttering of his eyelashes light you on fire all over again. You also can't believe it, you want to kiss him again right now just to solve that problem.

"Why haven't you?" And while the question is honest, you know the reason all too well. Neither of you have said it aloud but you know. In the looks, the touches, the soft secrets and looks- Asmodeus has always wanted to be by your side, to have your attention and not just because it's part of who he is. Through your entire time knowing him, he's wanted you specifically and here, in this alley after he'd kissed you when someone called you cute in the crowd, you just want to stop dancing around it. "If you keep waiting around, more people are going to flirt with me, you know?" The look you give him seems to spark something behind his eyes.

Asmo's expression shifts from surprised to pouting and when he leans into you it's with conviction and intensity. He kisses you properly, a full-on press of your lips as he pulls you close. The proximity, the sensation, it all makes your knees shake and when you two break the kiss, his little pout is replaced with a dreamy look. "You're just so cute, love. I can't blame anyone for wanting to flirt with you. But you're mine, right?" The look in his eyes leaves little room for argument- not that you would ever deny that fact. When you nod, he practically trills with glee and kisses you again, pressing you into the wall behind you.

Hands find your waist, your sides, your ribs and you try to commit to memory the way he tastes and feels. It's been a long time chasing and teasing each other with the promise of more but here, in your own little world, you decide that your patience has officially run out. During one of the brief moments of separation, you whisper out that you love him, and he shudders out a sigh before repeating it back to you like a mantra. There's a moment where you wrestle with the idea of having your first time with the demon in an alley way and just as you're conceding, there's another bright light and the sound of a click.

Stunned by the sound, you both whip your heads towards the source to find one of the rabid fans stood between you and the street, camera in hand. When they lower it, you can see they're tearing up and muttering something jealous and whiney. You have only a moment to try and parse their ramble before Asmodeus picks you up into a bridal carry and whines something back at the man. In a moment, his wings come out and you're jettisoned into the air when he sets flight.

The trip home is accompanied by his adorable pout and cute whining. He complains loudly into the sky about ruining the mood and some of his fans not being cute at all. You let him whine into the night and by the time you're officially back home, your entire mood has lifted. You're snickering into his collar and when he gets you back to your room to drop you off, he even pouts and whines at you for not taking this seriously enough. "Aren't you upset! That guy totally killed the mood. Weren't you having fun kissing? I would have loved to keep going, what a jerk!" As he carries you through the threshold, you cling to him too hard for him to let go.

All of Simeon's attention is on Luke and he barley addresses you before the boy is demanding something else from him. If you weren't so deflated, you might think that Luke was being even clingier than usual; you may have noticed the exhaustion on Simeon's usually composed expression. Instead, you slump a little into the booth seat as Solomon takes the spot next to you. The sorcerer crowds you before he brings up something from school this week and you decide to take the distraction over Simeon's obvious disinterest. Until the server returns with some drinks, Solomon monopolizes your attention.

"Aw, you two make a cute couple." The demon giggles as they place glasses of water down for the four of you. Even if you'd misunderstood the angel's intention, you still didn't want him thinking that you were interested in someone else and when the server covers a giggle behind their hand you turn to the man in front of you with a fallen, nervous expression. He's frowning at you, an obviously displeased look on his face, but you're not sure why he'd be upset if he showed up to your 'date' with his child and roommate. Solomon thanks the server and pulls you close in a half-hug, laughing about how he agrees. Simeon's frown deepens.

"We're not together." You panic respond and it comes out far louder than you'd intended. Even Luke jumps a little and as the server backs away, Solomon only stares at you with an unreadable look. It makes you uncomfortable and you turn back towards your menu with an embarrassed expression, intent on hiding away in the bistro's specials. Luke puts a hand on yours and when you catch his expression, he looks concerned. You want to crawl under the table and die.

Being trapped between the window and Solomon feels like hell right now and you stand as abruptly as you'd yelled, nearly crawling over the sorcerer to rush to the bathroom. Luke's voice carries just enough for you to hear him worry after you, and even that feels like agony as you try not to slam the door shut behind you.

Grateful that this bathroom is private, you peel yourself from the door and hobble towards the mirror. The amount of time you'd spent in front of one today was exhausting and only adds to how miserable you feel. Simeon had asked you to get lunch with him, and you'd been so excited that you'd skipped breakfast and just fussed over your appearance. You wanted to impress him, wanted to be half as pretty as he was on the regular and for what? He shows up to your 'date' with a group and just proves that you were overthinking things- again. You dig your palms into your eyes and groan into quiet bathroom, trying to gather up whatever courage you can to go back and face your friends.

It was so frustrating to be in love with a man who barely noticed you. That was dramatic, he noticed everything about you, but today was clearly different. Simeon hadn't commented on your outfit, or your hair. He'd changed the meet spot, shown up late with others and then practically ignored you while you waited to be sat and for however long it took the server to show up. Why did he ask you out if he didn't want to pay you any mind? Was this just some ruse to get you to play baby-sitter for Luke? The young angel had seemed pretty clingy...

It takes you another few minutes to breathe through your distress, but when you face your reflection again, it's with conviction. Straightening your back and locking eyes with yourself, you take off some of the more flamboyant jewelry you'd decided to wear. Not that they didn't still look nice with your outfit, you'd just decided to switch from 'first date' mode to 'babysitter' mode, and that involved a physical change too. It was something you were trying out, change your appearance to change your mindset. Right now, that meant making yourself less cute to try and soothe the sting of the situation. It wasn't a date, no need to look so good that everyone else stops to notice.

Once you've let down your hair a little, you take one more steadying breath and head back out to your group. Sitting back down now feels less stressful, and you offer Luke an apologetic smile that seems to reassure him. Solomon picks up your conversation where you'd left it, and you nod along with an easier atmosphere now that you're not in date mode anymore. It helps, thinking of it like just happening upon the group, and when Simeon finally addresses you, the disappointment is only minor. "Thank you for being so accommodating, I know we changed our plans from when I'd first reached out."

Shaking your head, you insist that it's fine. "It's not as if it were a date, right?" Solomon says to the group, and you feel the pinch of his words right behind your eyes. Simeon's frown worsens enough that his nose even wrinkles and you wonder why he's so upset while admiring the adorable expression. Solomon only smiles that usual way he does back and then Luke's demanding Simeon's attention once more. The easy dynamic between everyone makes you feel a little worse, so you try to verbalize the facts in an attempt to move passed the feeling sooner.

"Aha, yeah. Of course it wasn't a date." And you try to say it as easily as you can, but the table goes absolutely quiet. Luke is staring at you; Solomon looks surprised and Simeon... You're not sure what that expression is but you almost feel guilty for speaking at all. There's something in his expression- Hurt? Surprise? You can't quite make it out, but you need to remind yourself that he didn't consider it a date first and foremost. Wringing your hands together over a menu helps ease your own discomfort and when the server comes back over to take your lunch orders, you consider denying them and walking out of the eatery.

Simeon places his order last and if he wasn't paying attention to you before, he certainly isn't now. It stings, adds to the pinch in the back of your eyes and you try not to take it personally as you press further into the baby-sitter mode you'd tried to switch to. Striking up a conversation with Luke seems to grab his attention and he finally leaves his mentor alone. It was meant to be a reprieve for the angel, a moment of peace so that he could breathe easily or talk with Solomon without the boy hanging off him, but once Luke turns his attention to you, the other side of the table goes quiet. Solomon smiles at you both, following your conversation, but Simeon says nothing and busies himself with his phone.

Lunch is nice, but it all feels tense and uncomfortable and when you finally pay the bill and step out onto the street, you feel a relief like never before. It's short lived when Luke rushes out behind you, linking your arms and continuing what he was saying. Purgatory hall wasn't too far so walking them all home might be an easy thing to do. Still, you'd hoped to run away properly after your unpleasant afternoon. Solomon comes up on the other side of the boy and whispers something to him. Just as you're preparing yourself for the inevitable, he unlinks himself and makes up an excuse about needing to get home right away. When Solomon follows him with a wave, you almost believe in god.

Until you turn away from their retreating forms and nearly bump into Simon's pouting face. "It was meant to be a date" Is all he says before he crosses his arms and turns away from you, clearly upset. Your head spins and you think you might short-circuit but that won't solve anything or answer your very many questions.

"You changed the venue to a family friendly one and then invited your kid and friend." It comes out as an accusation, and maybe it is, but his pout breaks and his expression shifts into a affronted one.

"I didn't! Solomon took my phone while I was making breakfast and then when I was leaving, Luke chased me out of the house, complaining about not getting enough of my attention! I don't even know what brought that on, only that he was so insistent, I couldn't say no. Then Solomon was with us, and I couldn't justify turning him away. I hadn't even noticed that we were in a different location until we'd gotten here." He looks absolutely exhausted and you kind of want to pet his head. Whatever specifics transpired, it was obvious that your witty sorcerer friend was at fault. Still, you'd been bummed out all of lunch and even had to give yourself a pep talk just to come back to the table. Denying that it was in anyway his fault felt insincere and you keep your hands to yourself to give him a look that says just that.

He seems to catch your meaning and sighs before rubbing his face in his hands. When he speaks your name it's in a soft, apologetic sound that makes your stomach flip. He brings his hands to your cheeks then and presses your foreheads together and in that moment, you'd forgive him for anything. Cyan demands your attention and he looks like he might kneel in front of you and pray for forgiveness. When he doesn't, you're both relieved and disappointed. "I'm so sorry. I should have called to let you know the change myself once I realized what was happening. I should have said anything during lunch. I should have told you how cute your outfit looked before you changed." You're forgiving him, damnit.

A nod is all you can manage in this moment, and he relaxes against you with a look of such honest relief, you could kiss him. "So... It was meant to be a date, then?" The soft lilt in your voice seems to snap him back to you. There's only a moment of recalibration before his relieved expression shifts to a determined one that rivals the way you'd looked in the bathroom mirror. When he says your name this time, it's with conviction.

"If I hadn't been clear, please let me fix that now." He leans down, hands still on your cheeks, and kisses you deeply. It starts chaste and sweet and continues well enough passed that, that your knees wobble a little when he pulls away, leaving you dizzy. "I've wanted to take you out for months. Somehow, something always came up to change things or get in the way, but I meant every text, every call, every word of adoration. I've been taken with you for a long while. I'd love to be with you.. to see where this goes." If you weren't dizzy before you're practically horizontal now.

Simeon is deceptively strong and you feel him wrap around you secure and reassuring. His heat and the way his skin feels against yours is enough to send you reeling and it's only the threads of your sanity that demand you follow up on his words, instead of melting for him like lunch hadn't sucked. "Simeon. Angel." He straightens a little but doesn't let you go. "Okay, I understand today was a lot. I still felt terrible." It's taking a lot of effort to put forward your needs, but he's receptive to all of it. Simeon clearly wants to hear your concerns; he seems intent on doing better for you. "I want you to be honest and open and not pout at me across a table like I did something wrong." He nods, his face never falling as he retains your concerns. "I want to... I want to know what's going on and be reassured that I'm not just assuming you like me."

His arms tighten around you then, forehead pressing against yours just a bit firmer and when he's sure you've finished speaking he responds. "I adore you. I'll say it more clearly from now on, so that there's no confusion." It's warm and sweet and you nod before leaning in to kiss him again on the quiet street. "I promise not to burn your trust. Please forgive me for today." And you already have. You wanted to be here with Simeon, wanted him to like you the way you like him, wanted to hear and be heard by the gorgeous man. You'd been so excited for it.

"Oi." He looks at you; eyebrows furrowed with a genuine hurt that sits wrong in your ribs. "You know you're my first choice, right? My favourite? When I think about my future, I think about you?" He blinks at you, his face reddening and when he turns away you kiss his cheek, then run a hand over his other to turn his head and kiss that too. "Mammon, avatar of greed, second born of the seven lords." Yellow sparkles amidst his blue eyes and when he stares into you now, it feels fragile. Mammon is yours, and you would never hurt him, never betray that.

"I love you. I love you and you alone and I will always love you." If it's for him, the words are easy. While the demon always finds issue saying these honest things aloud, to you they're like breathing and it doesn't matter where you are, not when he hiccups and his lip wobbles with the restraint of his own love. If he can't manage it, then you will, every time. He falls forward into you and buries his nose into your shoulder, whining and grabbing at you like you might disappear.

There isn't anywhere else you'd rather be. His white, fluffy hair tickles your nose and as you hold him close, playing with it and whispering sweet nothings, he seems to settle and vibrate all at once. "I love you" you whisper again, along his hairline and he grips you tighter still. The need to tease him sparks back in your soul and for a moment you consider just whispering 'i love you's until he either melts or explodes back, but today feels a little more, like he's more vulnerable and needs more coddling than torment. It takes some self-restraint but you pull him better into you and he nearly crawls into your lap to accommodate. Your position, sat on the floor in front of the television in your room, makes it easy to squeeze him close and thread your fingers into your hair. Might as well make him comfortable if he's going to implode.

"Mammon," You kiss along his hairline and he whines. "Jewel Bug" another little groan of submission. "You're so lovely" His shoulders lift to his ears, and he buries his face further into your shoulder. "My diamond is so cute." More little noises, but he's practically preening from the praise. "You know, I have the hardest time paying attention in history. You're so handsome, and if you zone out and start laughing at your phone, it makes it impossible to look anywhere but at you." It feels like he mumbles a 'shut up' against you, but he seems to be enjoying the praise all the same, so you continue.

"Your smile changes in every situation, did you know that?" His body stills like he's waiting for you to continue. "No, eh? It does." You tug a little at the hair at his crown, moving some out of the way to better kiss along his scalp and roots. "When you're winning something, you smile big and dumb. Like you don't have anything else on your mind, like it's the best moment of your life." The next kiss is long and languid to his temple and he white knuckles the back of your sweater, mortified that you might see his expression right now. "And when you're doing something wrong, playing a prank or just pissing Lucifer off, you smile so wide that your eyes crinkle and your cheeks look like they might hurt." He doesn't respond as much to that one.

Considering what he might actually want to hear versus your stream of consciousness, you lean down and kiss his ears soft and sweet. He yelps and scrambles further against you- like that's even possible. "When you're having fun with me," you drop your voice low enough it makes him shiver. "Your smile gets all crooked and hot. Makes me want to kiss you a bunch." He whimpers again and grinds his nose into your diaphragm; the action is so silly looking you can't help but laugh at him. Mammon whines louder in response and at some point, peels his face from your sweater to climb on top of you.

Pressed under his weight and laid out on the floor, you smile your own big dumb smile right up at him. His pout is adorable too and you reach up to pet his face before he drops on top of you fully, kissing you through his obvious embarrassment. "You ran your mouth long enough. I don't wanna hear anythin' else outta you." But you laugh all the same and his pout morphs into another whine as he tries to shut you up again. And again.

Alone on your floor, the two of you kiss until Mammon feels calm enough to properly collect himself. Blue stares down at you and you count the flecks of gold in his eyes while he finds the exact words to compete with your little monologue. "I love ya' too." He usually starts this way, then follows up with an apology for not being more direct. "What's with ya' today?" That was new. "You're... seriously too cute, ya' know?" His pout intensifies and you want to kiss him so badly. "Sayin' all this stuff like it's common knowledge. You just watch me whenever you get a chance, huh?" When he catches your eyes, there's that clever mischief that's uniquely him beneath the blue. "Guess I can't say I'm any different." You can feel your skin hum under his gaze.

Mammon finally puts enough distances between your bodies to properly look at him. The way his bangs hang, the way the light halos his red ears, the little wrinkle in his brows as he tries to find the next thought- forget what he's about to say- you need to kiss him again. "You..." He brings a hand up to rub along your brow bone. "You're my human, first and foremost. Yeah?" The little smile he's wearing now is a rare one. It's small and honest and way too fucking precious. Nodding at him seems to spread the curve a little wider and he leans down to capture your lips again. "Yer damn right." It spreads again, into an honest, crooked thing that makes your heart melt. "I'm yer first and last."

"My one and only" He looks almost surprised, but you assume it's just about how quickly your responded with it. "Forever" and his surprise turns his face bright red. For a moment, you're expecting him to bury his nose against you again or just turn away and hide, but his lips thin and spread into that wide, crooked, hot smile that makes your stomach flip. Mammon looks like he might eat you whole. "Jewel bug," He leans in close, that smug look never leaving his eyes. "Forever."

That happens a few more times. At first, Lucifer believes himself to have the upper hand and makes a comment about how he'll come out the victor, all while submitting to whatever whim you presented. With each new trick you pull out, the look of shock becomes more exaggerated, and by the fifth time, frustrated. You keep teasing him, demanding his attention, and rushing off after snapping a photo. Once your collection hits ten total trophies, you make the mistake of letting your guard down.

It happens in the student council room at R.A.D. Diavolo requests your presence and you'd been performing a task for him when Asmodeus and Mammon had slid in, pleading once more for you to share the photos you'd acquired. Your spoils weren't for them, but you couldn't deny how wonderful they were and pull your phone out to share in the wealth. Getting caught up in the soft, vulnerable expression on the morning star, you miss the commanding footsteps and the shift in the air around you. Diavolo stands first, followed by the panicked party demons, but you don't even register their absence until there's breath on your neck and fingers around your wrists.

Lucifer's weight presses into your shoulders and his lips find your ear before you can even greet him. The soft scent of coffee and a quick sandwich let you know that he's taken care of himself today, and if not for the way his hand drags up from your wrist, you'd assume he was just happy to see you. His grip tightens when he finally reaches your ribs and before you can stop him from slipping his gloves beneath your uniform, he's silencing you with his tongue. The angle is only strange for a moment before he's turned you in your chair and trapped you between him and the upholstery.

Leather gloves act as the only separation between your skin and he takes his time to retrace every curve of you. There's a protest in the back of your mind, mostly the location and the memory of last time you two got handsy in the student council room. Barbatos had scolded you both, his charge taking the chance to play hooky, but something about the pressure of your lover's teeth feels too final to contest. He nips at your chin, your pulse, your collar and then before you can find the words, he's dropped to his knees between your thighs. The predatory expression on the usually beautiful face reminds you that your man is, in fact, a demon. You swallow when grabs your waist band and pulls hard enough to rip.

"Baby- this place is-" You barley get that much out before the air in your lungs comes back up abruptly. The man is ancient, and as a result, very practiced in some things. His tongue feels amazing and that pressure in his jaw that had kept you still before now makes you writhe against him. Your body moves of its own volition and as he works, he encourages your impromptu dance with more languid drags of his gloves along your hips and sides. Thighs keep him in place, and his talented mouth keeps you squirming.

It lasts longer than you would have expected, especially after teasing him all week, but when he finally picks himself off the floor, it's to stand over your still twitching body. His smirk shines with a mix of spit and your satisfaction and there's hardly any brain left to register that when he leans in for a kiss. Welcoming him against you feels natural and you're expecting to be pampered a little bit before he lifts you into his arms and sits back down in the chair himself. There's a protest on your tongue, a reminder that you're in the student council room at R.A.D and not anywhere really private, but it's obvious Lucifer isn't interested in anything but you right now. When he pulls himself out of his pants, you struggle to regulate your breathing.

Choking a little on your spit, you manage to answer his quiet question with your own enthusiastic consent. Lucifer is a very talented man after all, and you'd missed the intimacy between you two during your time collecting photos. His heat feels like home and the trail of kisses on your shoulder leave you hotter than his tongue had earlier. Still half-sated, you bring him back to face you in a moment of coherence. "Lucifer" He breathes your name back at you, the sound heavy with his restraint "We're going to get in trouble for this..." Even as you say the words, you don't believe them either.

The tension in his jaw is more for his own control than any real irritation with you, but you can feel your resolve slipping. "I won't push you," A whisper against your lips as he tightens his glove around his shaft, "but I am starting to consider you a sadist." The way his eyes darken before falling closed forces your hand down to replace his. A gasp at the sensation of your skin on his is all he lets show before he fights to steady himself again. "Were your photos not enough? Would you like to watch me break in real time, little lamb?" It's even, but you can still hear the soft waver in his words. The thrill is better than anything the photos had given you.

"Do you mind, Firefly?" His eyes stay closed, but he nods for you to continue. Your hand begins to move then, soft, and slow and nothing like how he likes it. He won't complain, too proud to whine or beg and that's the entire reason you'd begun your little torment in the first place. After that incident with the newt syrup, you'd pushed down your desire for his soft pleading. He'd called you master then and it had rewired your brain into something new and hungry. The soft moments between his honest feelings and putting on his mask- the hesitation in his voice before he answered your questions with a firm confidence- you'd been desperate to take them and engrave them into your soul. The photos had just been the latest attempt to do so.

"Let me hear you, Lucifer" The words slip out as demanding as your strokes had become and with each downward motion, you pull another soft groan from your lover. He parts his lips, conceding to your request without acknowledging it, but the soft whispers of your name and the way his hips lift to meet you speak volumes. His eyes stay shut and while you're drinking in each, soft shift in his expression, you still want more than this, more of his submission. "Look at me, gorgeous. Let me see what I'm doing to you." and you tighten your grip for good measure.

It's a slow unraveling but he gets exactly where you want him. Flushed skin, dark eyes, a furrowed brow, and those wet, parted lips. Lucifer never turns away from you, only lets his body relax in your touch like he's had enough of being in control. It's a gift he's offering you, a white flag in the face of your cruel behaviour all week and you latch onto it like a leech. Your hand moves the way he loves, and you lean in to kiss him deep and hungry. When his tongue hesitates, you pull away to ask properly for the thing you've wanted all year. "Say it, Firefly. Speak to me." He shivers against you and closes his eyes again, patience non-existent.

"Please... Master" and you're leaning in to taste the words as they leave his mouth. Gloves grab at your thighs, and you dominate the kiss as you give your demon what was promised. His powerful frame shivers beneath you but you're almost too far gone yourself to really pay attention until he makes a noise that finally stops your hand. He pants against your tongue, coming down from his high and you feel the temptation to jump right back in again, regardless of how much more dangerous being in this room gets every minute.

The pride demon clings to you until he can come back to himself. Once he has, his grip tightens at your hips, and his eyes sharpen with senses. The mask slips back into place and with a quick kiss he's right back in control. "Satisfied, my lamb? Perhaps I should call you my wolf when you get aggressive?" It lowers the heat in your head a little and you settle against him with a half-hearted snicker. "If my submission was all you wanted, you could have simply asked." The thought feels almost foreign to you, asking your powerful, proud demon lover to submit. The look you give him seems to communicate that well enough and he strokes your chin softly to reassure you.

"Consider it a gift, my darling." Lips meet yours and there's another soft, sweet press before he lowers the guard again. "For you, and you alone. My love, my master." The words shoot fire through you and when you kiss him again it's with a clear intention. Before either of you can give into that heat again, you hear the doorknob rattle, locked and unwilling to open. It startles you enough to nearly fall off Lucifer's lap, but he fights to keep you in place with strong hands and a soft, warm breeze of magic.

When Barbatos steps into the room, Diavolo, Mammon and Asmodeus watching from the door, you nearly throw yourself off Lucifer in a panic. To your surprise, your covering yourself proves futile against the piercing teal of the butler's stare and he looks you both up and down with a hint of fury in his cold smile. There isn't even a moment to explain before Lucifer lifts you by the hips and carries your now dressed from the room. Unsure when he'd managed to clean and mend your clothes, you wave Barbatos an apologetic goodbye before you're rushed off the school grounds at an impressive speed.

As soon as the snacks had finished, Beelzebub had laid his head in your lap and passed out. Maybe you'd have been upset if this didn't give you a great excuse to stare at him like a weirdo for the entire length of the film. Satan nudges you once or twice when you start verbalizing your adoration but otherwise doesn't bother you as you preen over the larger demon. He barley even comments when you lean down and start peppering kisses along Beelzebub's face. You manage to distract yourself somehow and when the pop of silver hair catches your attention, you don't even feel that relieved.

"Are ya' seriously gonna just stay here for another two hours?! We can sneak ya' out right now and play 8-ball in my room, come on." There's a weird pleading in his eyes and you wonder if he's really worried about your being stuck here of if he just misses you. Regardless, it's cute and you pet his hair and lean in to kiss his forehead. Mammon whines and struggles to advocate for his idea, the gesture short-circuiting his brain. "What're ya' doing! We can do that sorta thing later- alone! Come on!" but you only shake your head and pet his more solidly. He pouts and slumps but doesn't pull away, clearly enjoying your hand in his hair.

Mammon doesn't leave your side at all after that. For the rest of the film your petting his head, even when he shoves himself in between you and the armrest. He's pressed closer to you than Beel is and the three of you smush yourselves into one end of the couch, Satan on the other. When the movie ends, you're expecting the blonde to chime in about the movie and offer trivia and fun facts, but instead he stays quiet, glaring at the screen. With both the greed and gluttony boys wrapped around you, it's too difficult to lean any closer and check on him, so you whisper out a soft 'pst' like he was a distracted kitten.

His ears twitch and while he doesn't turn to you immediately, he does huff a little and then lean further back into the couch, grabbing the remote to navigate the menu. When you call his name, he seems to lose whatever internal battle he's waging. "What?" He snaps and you would have jumped a little if you had room to. He seems to catch his temper and schools his features before turning back towards you with a pout instead of a grimace. "Don't mind me, I'm just watching a movie alone in a crowd." Satan is dramatic, but you can't say you don't understand why he's upset. Taking stock of your cuddle puddle, you shuffle to the best of your ability and pat your side.

"Get over here already." Shoulders hunch and you watch the soft red spread across his cheekbones. Satan seems to be considering the offer and weighing it against his pride. Before you can try to convince him with a line about acting like Lucifer, he slides across the couch to rest his head on your shoulder and curl his knees up to your thigh, careful not to bump your legs or wake Beelzebub, who's sat between them. With your last open space now occupied by yet another cute boy, you shimmy until you're totally settled and insist he puts on another movie. It seems to appease him and while he doesn't smile right away, he does close his eyes for a moment and breathe you in. That's when you reward him with his own forehead kiss for the evening.

The tailor's is high-end, as most of Diavolo's usual shops are. Upon entering, you're immediately met with service workers and magic before being led through racks of potential designs. Diavolo seems pleased with everything, even if they look like a bad costume and you're reminded that he's too easy going for his own good. Though he has his own tastes, he's easily sold on things if he thinks they might be fun. It's when the shop keep offers him some violet and magenta nightmare that you decide to put a stop to something before it gets out of hand. "Darling," His attention is on you immediately. "Can I make a request?" He's by your side in seconds, hands in yours and head bowed to hear you better with the height difference. You take the chance to drag a hand up along his R.A.D uniform, drawing a circle on his chest as you bat your eyelashes. "Can I dress you up?"

While his face doesn't change and his posture remains perfect, you can see the typhoon raging behind his eyes. He even needs to swallow something down before he can smile and nod at you, stepping to your side to lead you towards the rack. The attendant bows and offers you some space while you work and the moment, you're alone in the room, he gets comfortable behind you, nose pressed into your neck and shoulder. "Is there anything in particular you'd like to see me in?" He whispers the question against your skin, and you feel the sound vibrate through your bones. It takes a great deal of effort to not rip the sleeve off a suit you were admiring, but you manage to keep yourself together. Somehow.

Even with his large hands at your waist, you find it in yourself to search through the racks and compare colours and silhouettes. At one point you take his hand off your hip to hold fabric against it and he makes a dreamy noise in your ear to let you know he's enjoying this. With all the power and authority that he holds, you can't help but revel in these soft moments where he makes weak noises and clings to you like a pet. After his third soft sigh, you need to close your eyes and lean back into him to relieve some of your own tension. The motion gives him consent to pepper you with kisses and you take a small break to turn in his arms and mush your lips to his.

Neither of you remember who kills the kiss but you're back to the search, finding something that appears as classy as he should be with a statement worthy of the prince of the Devildom. Diavolo considers each suit you hand him but doesn't comment on any of them. Your focus seems to be the only real point of interest for him, and he watches you with fascination as you run around the racks. When you've finally compiled a small mound of designer suits, it's time for a fashion show and you usher him to the dressing room with a skip in your step and a humming under your fingers.

The first suit is nice. It's sleek and shiny and looks like something a high-end mafioso might wear in an old film. You take too many photos and ask him to spin and pose despite the fact this looks like something Mammon might wear and not royalty. The next suit is much more vibrant. A large accentuated along the fabric and a deep crimson looks almost delicious on his skin. Even Diavolo seems to preen at it, waxing poetic about how it reminds him of Lucifer. Before you can let him spiral off into a little rant about the fallen angle, you usher him back into the room and hand him the next one. If he starts, you'll be here for hours.

The next suits come and go without much and at some point, the attendant reappears to check in. He seems to take notice immediately of your concern, interested in something simple for any occasion while still having that gravitas that someone on the throne should have. You highlight your favourite pants, jackets, and vests to the tailor and while he compares fits and fabrics, you feel Diavolo slide up behind you. Your partner doesn't get too handsy with you in front of others, but he does still rub a circle on your back as you lean over the worktable. "Red suits the young master very well. Did you like some more shades to pick from?" You spare a look to the demon, and he seems excited at the thought of it. He's going to bring up Lucifer again and you roll your eyes at his obsession with the man before putting your foot down.

"No, I think black is ideal for common suit. But there should be something to accent it. Maybe we can get you some red jewels? Rings or cufflinks or something?" The thought seems to intrigue your lover, and you take that as a victory. His hair is vibrant and his wings tint red, so too much would only oversaturate it. "I want you to shine, Dia." He kisses your forehead at the comment places his hand back on your hip.

"Perhaps we can focus on gold tones? They do accent the young master's skin tone quite well." The attendant returns to the rack to collect a very busy looking vest. The gold pattern is hand weaved along the front and back of the vest and you blink at it. As the shop keep begins to discuss the rich nature of the silk used for the embroidery, you decide that it's quite nice. Gold and black, with a waist cinching that will make Diavolo's chest pop. It takes a great deal of restraint to not reach out to squeeze one of his pecs as you think about how good his chest will look in it. Instead, you nod and hand it to him, rushing to the rack to find something you'd disregarded earlier.

It was a simple black suit with golden patterns. It was too simple in your initial look through but now, with the vest and promise of red accents, it seemed to fit. With the opinions of the attendant, you piece together the best suits you can manage and leave the rest up to his professional discretion. The night carries from there into a cute date and if you end up spending the evening under your partner, in his bed, you'd earned it for all your efforts in dressing the next king.

A few days later, when the suits have been delivered, you receive a text from Barbatos asking you to come to the castle. "Lord Diavolo is very excited to model the suits to your specifications." And that's more than enough reason to shower quick and rush over to see the butler and his prince. Once you've arrived and made yourself comfortable in his bedroom, Diavolo steps out of his walk-in closet, nearly in the buff. Immediately you're having a hard time focusing but Barbatos seems to reign the two of you in enough to insist his master try on the first suit. You dig your nails into your legs as you wait for him to come out.

The first suit is the one that most reminds him of you. A rich colour with intricate embroidery along the lapel, a matching design in the lining of the jacket and the pants decorated with whispers to match the top. The real highlight of the outfit is the specific way the vest curves just below your partner's chest, framing and perking them up in a way that strains his dress shirt and makes your mouth water. Barbatos examines the outfit like he was scrutinizing everything but ultimately returns to sit beside you with a compliment to the prince and a thanks for your efforts. He comments to you in a whisper about the fitting and you have to turn away to hide your shameless grin.

When Diavolo returns to you both, he's wearing the black suit with gold design. You catcall him as he adjusts his vest under his chest and your side-eye Barbatos, expecting the butler to make another snide comment at you. Instead, he's wearing an expression you can't read and when you go to ask him where his mind is, he stands abruptly and excuses himself. Staring after him, you can't seem to place the stunned expression he'd worn as he left. You stand from the couch but don't chase the man, his expression surprising but not worrisome. When Diavolo comes over to collect you in his arms, you decide to have faith that the butler will return with an explanation soon enough. In the meantime,...

Barbatos announces himself with too loud a knock and you assume it's for your sake. Jumping off the prince's lap and readjusting your clothes, you invite him to enter. He's returned carrying what looks like an expensive shawl. It's made of a black velvet that splits near the ends, revealing a rich red lining. On either point of the deep, black fabric is a thin tube of gold, pinched at either side to denote the ends of the garment. The main section seems to pull wide enough to reach over Diavolo's shoulders and as the butler drapes the piece over Diavolo's shoulders, he clips large shield like ornaments to the velvet, affixing them and a string of heavy tassels to each side. Diavolo considers the outfit and ones he's been dressed, reveals his wings and horns, his usual muff of black feathers forming over the collar of his suit in turn.

"Amazing Barbatos! I'd completely forgotten about this. I suppose the suit was quite reminiscent of this outfit." He looks himself over in the full-length mirror and poses a little, admiring the old decorative shawl.

"Yes. Almost a perfect replica." The butler turns and gives you a wink you can't understand. It seems like he's worn something similar to this in the past, and while you're glad to know him well enough that you can dress him to a standard everyone agrees on, it feels as though you've lost in some way. You pout back at the butler, but he says nothing and gives you just another of his coy smiles.

"Well, my crown. How do I look?" And you've forgotten all about Barbatos' secrets and insinuations. Your lover looks amazing. Regal and handsome in his outfit, you can't help the way your feet guide you to him of their own desire. Hands come up to slide along the fabric, and you spend a moment fiddling with the large tassels that seem to frame you in his arms. It feels like the perfect little spot for you to snuggle into, cocooned by the fabric, thread, and his large hands. When you lean into kiss him again, they slip lower on your waist and you Barbatos clear his throat again from behind you.

"Thank you for your help with the suit shopping, my dear. Now that I've confirmed Lord Diavolo has sufficient evening wear, I shall attend to my other duties. Until dinner, I ask that you do not ruin his new outfit." With a small bow, he offers you both a smug little smile and then leaves the room. When you and your lover both groan at the warning, you realize you'd had the same idea.