IN WHICH... Barbatos falls ill with the flu, and you decide to step up.
TW: Slight Diavolo x Reader, She / Her pronouns, NOT proofread, spying, Barbatos lwk doesn't believe in you, not super romantic, kind of a crackfic
A/N: Thanks for the request!! This idea was so cute omg. Please lmk if I made any spelling / grammar mistakes! ❤︎ ya!!
You’ve never seen Barbatos look so… sickly before.
His green hair stuck to his pale forehead. Sweat dribbled down his flushed cheeks and onto the soft bedsheets that covered his long body.
More blankets than you could count piled around him in large, soft mountains; likely from Diavolo, who was the most worried when Barbados started showing signs for the flu.
“I can do it, trust me!” You pleaded, rubbing your thumb into the rigid knuckles of the butlers sticky hand. He looks at you with heavy eyes, obviously tired of your soft, insistent pleads.
Barbatos sighed, before slipping a hand into his bedside drawer and pulling out a long list of responsibilities. Your responsibilities.
“Fine, Y/N, I will trust you with this.” He said, handing you the scroll of paper, “But being the Demon Princes’ butler is no easy task. You have to follow these specific rules and schedules.”
Barbatos spoke with a tight-lipped smile, his tone obviously uneasy as he talked about the very specific instructions you were now supposed to memorize.
You nodded along, not really listening to his voice, instead excited about the opportunity ahead of you. If you were anything, you were an opportunist.
You practically skipped out the room when he waved you off, probably trying to keep the interaction short so we can go back to resting.
As soon as the door clicked shut, Barbatos called out to a Little D. , who came running to his bedside.
“Follow her.”
First duty? Breakfast.
“Arguably the most important meal of the day.” Diavolo laughs, taking his seat at the long dinner table. Watching you with kind eyes as you prepare his meal.
You hummed in response, focusing on cutting up vegetables to put in to his demon-ified omelet he insisted you’d make.
While you weren’t as smooth and elegant as Barbatos maybe, you were certainly quick. Your hands worked fast in preparation, and before the prince knew it, his breakfast was plated infront of him.
It was pretty. Decorated, even. The fork and knife properly laid on the plate, not touching the hot food. Dashes of green
And at first bite, Diavolo started to melt into his seat. “A plus!” He giddily smiled, before savoring another bite of your meal into his mouth.
You grinned back, bowing before heading into the kitchen to take care of the dirty dishes. Overlooking the Little D. Who nodded along to the interaction, making a mental note to mention your good behavior to his boss.
Next duty? Paperwork.
Diavolo slouched at his desk, lazily scribbling his signature on documents that he could barely read without falling asleep from the boredom.
Slices of cheese, pepperoni, and crackers were plated next to him while hot tea gently swirled around in its porcelain cup. An afternoon snack that the prince was rewarded for ‘working so hard.’
You stood next to him, back perfectly straight in the proper position a servant should stand. The ticking of the grandfather clock filling the silent air before Diavolo speaks once more.
“Wanna do something fun?”
Diavolo grinned, squinting his eyes at you and waiting for a response. His pearly, sharp teeth peaked out from beneath his lip in expectation.
“Work.” You stated, barely casting him a glance. Attempting to not make eye contact with his wide, pleading eyes.
He huffs and slouches down in his extravagant chair, gripping the quill gently despite his large hands.
The spy peaked out from around the door frame, mouth splitting into a wide, toothy smile as he watches the short interaction.
The prince, on the other hand, started to pester you more. Begging to go out and look around town.
Finally, the end of the day.
You cleaned up the Demon Princes’ desk, rearranging the papers and quills. You gently swept at the dusty floor, rocking your hips to the sounds of your humming.
Diavolo watched from the sidelines. His back facing the wall as he leant on it, arms crossed over his wide chest. He looked proud, as if he knew about the deal between you and Barbatos.
The Little D. Was no where to be found, likely off to tell Barbatos about your good behavior as the Princes personal butler.
Soon, you walked with Diavolo to his fancy bedroom. Saying a soft goodnight to eachother as he kisses your cheek. And when his door creaks to a close, you let out a long sigh you’ve held all day.
And before you can walk off to take care of your other duties, your phone pings with a notification from Barbatos.
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another set of drafts that i'll probably never ever finish, but man it was nice to think about and brainrot about them with oomf 😔 beware unbeta'd writing and shoddy characterization, third abandoned wip has implied nsfw
4 times simeon catches you crying
(+1 time he comforts you fr)
i think i just ended up losing steam writing this, like, technically i've already written a short comfort fic with simeon? so thinking of how to spin comfort in-chara and in 5 different ways took away the fun of fully writing out this fic.
Chopping Onions
You rarely ever found yourself in the kitchen. A series of accidents, possibly even confirmed as a curse or something of that nature, had barred you from kitchen duty. Except for dishes, you didn’t mind doing the dishes.
Not in Purgatory Hall. There was a person who absolutely couldn’t be allowed into the kitchen, and you couldn’t just sit around and let your hosts do all the work. So, you needed to roll up your sleeves and become the best (or at least most semi-competent) chef assistant you can manage. For the angels, for the exchange program!
“Do you think you could help Luke—”
“I can do it on my own!” Luke protested.
‘Not with a giant knife,’ you thought to yourself. And the way that he was balancing it with all the other cooking implements he was going to use. You quickly took the chopping board and the knife. “Why don’t I take half of the prep, and you take the other half?” you offered with a strained smile. Okay, so the nerves were settling in. What were these other things used for—
A steadying hand held your waist and the other held up the things about to fall out of your arms.
Yes, you forgot to factor in that casual contact was going to become a more frequent thing. Your heart wasn’t prepared. Not one bit.
“Luke, I know you want to show off that new recipe you learned, but slow down…” He left your side to help grab a stool for Luke to use.
Okay, you needed to keep your hands and eyes busy. You could manage preparing the vegetables.
“What’s dinner duty at the House of Lamentation like?” Luke asked. “It’s definitely better here, isn’t it?”
You laughed, “well, keeping everyone busy in their own way is kind of difficult.”
“Oh yeah, Barbatos showed me this trick.” Luke stopped you from (potentially) slicing a finger off. “You don’t need to move the knife around that much..”
“Oh…” Your eyes widened in understanding and you moved to copy what he did. “That makes it way easier, thanks Luke.” You smiled. But it was kind of embarrassing that you were being taught how to handle a knife. Just a little bit.
“Is it obvious that I don’t cook much?” The question slipped out before you realized.
It was now the younger angel’s turn to be surprised. “You don’t?”
You raised a finger to your lips. “Shh, I couldn’t let you do all the work!”
Your words seem to have inspired him to detail each of the recipe’s steps. Maybe so that you could use this for when you needed to cook for yourself.
The rest of the ingredient prep passed by with relative ease.
“I should start cooking all this…” Luke glanced at the wall clock and he made his way to the stove.
“Do you need help with that?” you asked, about to follow him.
“I can do it, don’t worry!” The stove clicked on with a blue flame. “Could you finish chopping that?” he asked, as an afterthought.
“Sure,” you answered before pausing.
That was an onion.
Okay, no biggie. Now if you really tried hard to, you could remember cutting up a dozen onions…
In Cooking Mama 3, at least.
But the graphics more or less gave you a (vague) picture of how you were meant to chop it. You still hesitated, holding the knife poised.
Blood Sacrifice - being averse to blood, needing it for a class at RAD
Stress from Acads - mental breakdown realness
Something - need a buffer before the final scene
Aftermath of lesson 16 - avoiding the demon brothers and the House of Lamentation, simeon actually finds you staying really late at RAD, you don't want to impose, but you don't want to go "home" either. and everything turned out well in the end, so why are you bawling your eyes out again? you've been through worse
obm theater kid arc
another failed musical/theater wip 😔you might notice that the written snippets do not line up with the first paragraph in the outlines, yes that is a normal occurrence in my writing,,,,,coming up with a different scene than what i originally envisioned
Lucifer
Shopping for the possible materials to be used by the costumes and props team. Takes place in one of the clothing shops they visit, where MC goofs off a bit after a long day of shopping and jokes about how they would blend in as one of the extras onstage. Lucifer says something about how the MC is too eye-catching/captivating to be a background character, probably while holding up the tentative costume for one of the leads. (Lowkey seems bland… not sure if I should cont with this idea)
Mammon
He’s working with the MC in stage crew, but suddenly he has to fill in for one of the actors who had an accident. He has to suddenly learn the script in a short amount of time, probably around less than a month. He can’t fully immerse himself into his role, so MC has to step in and practice with him during his free time.
Leviathan
They’re working with the lights crew and some of the stage effects. Late after rehearsal, the two of them stay behind at the auditorium. MC brings Levi to the stage and they end up goofing off as if they’re the actors, since they’ve listened to some parts enough times to be able to memorize them. Possible explorations into feeling like side characters or mere observers in life and wishing to have a story as dramatic as the main actors.
He knows the feeling probably more than he knows about himself. That vicious green serpent winding around him and whispering into his ear.
Envy. A venom injected through his veins and an elixir fueling his burdensome existence. His source of pain and an empty answer for self-soothing.
He understands and is baffled by it at the same time. / He has lived with it for years, and he has only learned to bear with its presence, to put it at the back of his mind, and ignore it when it was feeling especially vile.
However, that all went flying out the window as he found himself falling more and more into the downward spiral of inferiority and self-loathing.
Was it because of the new exchange student living with them? Was it because everything about you reeked of self-confidence and self-assuredness? Was it because you were able to embody everything that he wasn’t?
Your easygoing nature was…nice, but also unsettling.
You were living with some of the worst demons of the Devildom, and yet--
(“Hey, can I talk to you about something?”)
--And yet you were still going about your (newfound) daily life as if you weren’t bothered at all. No matter what, it felt as if you were treating them all like...
…humans.
It felt like an even bigger kick to his ego when he realized that.
“It’s just for an afternoon, heck, even it’ll just be ten minutes with both auditions.”
(Without looking up from his D.D.D., he could feel a frown form on his face, but he doesn’t lose his concentration on the rhythm game.)
“I’m not even auditioning. So why do I have to go?” Ah crap--miss. He tsks and restarts the song.
“I mean--” you sigh, before clearing your throat. “Fine. You don’t have to, I just…wanted to…invite a bunch of you all. For Asmo,” you finished lamely.
(He misses another note, but this time, he lets the level fail.)
There’s a certain tone in your words that grabs his attention. For once, he lets go of the urge to full-combo the song, and he gets the pressing feeling that you weren’t exactly inviting them all to the audition ‘for Asmo.’ Something familiar yet amiss.
Satan
Writing inspiration for the script. They’ve pored over all of his books in his room and have reached a block. Satan wants to be completely original, but there’s so much that they can create in this setting. So, MC proposes that they go out and search for more inspiration. They try writing at a cafe, they try going through movies, and watching a play. Everything else seems unable to break the writer’s block until (not sure if i should continue with this…)
Asmodeus
He would joke that he could help the MC with practicing how to kiss on-stage. The MC gets landed the role of the main actor’s lover, but since they’re the very nervous type, they get kicked out by the director to get their act together. Even though he’s busy painting one of the set pieces, he tries to cheer them up by spilling tea on the director (maybe they’re a past ex or ex of an ex, basta Asmo hears lots of things from the grapevine). He also helps them practice their lines, MC points out that he’s good enough to be one of the main actors, maybe that he should take their place instead. In response, he tells them that they’re perfectly suited for their role, and that he would steal the show if he acted.
Beelzebub
MC gets into either a set or stunt accident, they get hurt really bad. Beel helps them with some first aid and is about to bring them to get treated at the infirmary, but the MC (being the determined perfectionist-type) holds off on going with him and returns to practice. He’s about to bring them again after rehearsal, but they tell him that the pain disappeared. At the dress rehearsal, the reader gets into an even worse accident, Beel then decides to pull an intervention.
Belphegor
They could be picking/composing some songs for the sound crew. Sharing earphones or showing tentative lyrics to each other while on their break. At the music room, there could be a scene where Belphie’s sitting at the piano, singing with a soft voice, trying out different melodies. Maybe he could call the MC over and they’d try harmonizing together.
It took a bit of practice to match the strumming to the beat of the song, add that to the difficulty of singing and playing the guitar at the same time. The strings have probably left indents on your fingers from how hard you've been pressing against them, but you were determined to learn this song. Strum down twice, then up, then quickly strum down on the beat, then repeat.
"Is that song supposed to be a duet?"
What was it with these demons and their habit of sneaking up on you? You thought frustratedly as you paused your playing for the enth time. (On the other hand, your fingers were probably grateful for the short reprieve, after being subjected to playing this one song again and again.)
"…Yeah. It's from a musical," you replied, your voice clipped.
"Cool." The tone of his voice doesn't make you feel any better. It feels fake and a part of you wishes that he would be scathingly blunt as he usually was with everyone.
"Not really, it's pretty basic. The chorus goes B minor, A, then G." you wave off the compliment.
"I wasn't talking about the song, but it's hard to play and sing at the same time," he chides.
You feel your ears go warm in embarrassment. "I-it doesn't sound that good—If you're gonna be sitting there, could you like… be quiet or something?"
He makes a zipping motion across his lips, (wisely) deciding not to comment on how flustered you were.
(The pads of your fingers ached in protest as you started playing the song again.)
You took your earlier remark back, you didn't want to play to this silence. Your rhythm was all over the place. You forgot which frets to place your fingers on. Quickly making peace with the oncoming humiliation, you stop
Diavolo
They could be walking around the campus/somewhere else and reenact scenes while in costume in order to promote their play. Diavolo’s charisma already brings in the attention of a small crowd. He plays a relatively minor, but pivotal role in the play. MC, being a bit of a trickster, decides to tease him by improvising the prepared scene by just a bit.
Barbatos
He could help MC with dance steps to a certain scene, since their scene partner is always MIA. Unsurprisingly, he’s talented at it, but he also gets very invested into playing the role as their partner. Movements carrying just a bit too much tenderness in them, or something. Confusing feelings get developed. On the opening night, MC’s scene partner ditches, and Barbatos has to fill in.
Luke
This is at the part of the play production where they have to work twice as much, twice as fast. It’s a bit stressful, so Luke and the MC, mainly MC, find ways to slack off, even skip practice. It ends up backfiring on them and they end up getting sick/sore throats. (Why did this get angst-y, rewrite).
Simeon
Strict Simeon reappears, but only as the director. The cast quickly shapes up under his control, except MC for some reason. One rehearsal he’s had enough, he calls them to the side and has their understudy take over. Deeply ashamed after that, the MC stays behind late to practice on their own. To their surprise, Simeon is also staying behind and he decides to assist them. One-on-one, he tells you upfront where the MC makes mistakes and how to fix them. MC improves during future practices, and even earns his praise. The other cast teases them for being Simeon’s favorite. Out loud, MC denies it, but Simeon overhears and wonders if he has been too obvious with his favoritism.
Solomon
Audition scenario where they’re the only humans and they’re being made to try out just for the experience. Solomon is ‘meh’ about the experience, feeling like he’d contribute more with stage effects. But MC, really wants to act, but they don’t want to be the sole human in a cast of demons. Unstoppable force (Solomon’s innate curiosity to stand back and watch things play out) vs. Immovable object (Solomon’s unconscious soft side for the reader).
“Does anyone have any suggestions?” The demon directing the play asked, surveying the room. When greeted with the silence, his expectant expression fell. “Humans?” He looked over to you and Solomon.
You both shared a glance before Solomon decided to speak, which you were very grateful for. “MC, is a human world musical fanatic."
Okay, you take everything back. You regretted this. You regretted being here and letting Asmo drag the both of you into joining this club. You wanted to sink into the floor--
Director raised a brow at you. “Are you, really?”
Quick, think of an excuse as to why you can’t agree to it--
“Um, should-should you really be letting a newbie--a human newbie, at that--decide on the club’s performance?
“It’s tradition for the newer members to be take charge of the production committee." The temperature in the room dropped a few degrees. Oh God, were they getting angrier?
Your gaze darted around the room before meeting Asmo’s and you silently pleaded for him to take the attention off of you
To which he responds with a cheeky grin and a gesture saying, ‘Go on, tell them.’
Utterly useless, the both of them.
obm marks
i think this spawned from my frustrations of going through the secret routes in pop quizzes and wishing that obm would go in a poly route instead of always making you pick one (1) character every time
If it’s just the gang (and when Luke looks the other direction), the demon who marked them will even adjust their clothing/hair to show it to the others
“WTF?? YOU WERE WITH THEM?? >:OO YOU SHOULD’VE INVITED ME”
Imagine demon brother trying to have spicy times with mc then they unbutton their shirt?? To find someone else’s marks on mc?? >:0
Time partitions are gonna escalate from splitting time to having a chart who can mark mc after the previous ones fade
Luke shouldn’t know about it. Everything else is fair game… hang in there MC
“ASMO WHY ARE MC’S MARKS STILL NOT FADING??!!” “Kyaaa I was very passionate :>”
Imagine doing it with Beel and Belphie. MC: I need to use the restroom- stands up and falls flat on their face
Imagine they’re mad ‘cause someone broke the rule again but it turned out to be Diavolo. So brothers are nagging Luci to tell him. Barb is the one who tells Dia off, he’s the only one who can freely do it.
Imagine the one who broke the rule was MC wanting to have sexy times with a specific person, so they can’t tell him off kasi it’s MC who propositioned. It’s the school dance poly route again but NSFW. “MC AM I NOT ENOUGH FOR YOU??!! I WAS FREE THAT TIME >:/” “oh yeah? You wanna spend time with all of us?? You better be ready.”
Solomon straight up enchanting his marks to be long lasting and very obvious. Satan cursing his marks so no one can add new ones before they faded. Simeon is sweet enough to be minimalist with his marks. Asmo is very interested in Barbatos’ marks, “MC how is he :>”
If it was reversed, Asmo and Mammon would be the proudest to wear MC’s marks. Beel doesn’t really care, Belphie might like. Levi is too embarrassed. Luci and Satan have dignified images to uphold.
MC is gonna put the devildom concealer companies out of business.
cw: finished this draft thats been rotting in my drive since 2021-2022. established relationship with the affectionate angel 😇💕💕 lots of fluff and sweetness in spite of embarrassment, references to deeper intimacy at the end, but it's just a line. beta'd with my own two eyes and a prayer, all mistakes are mine
simeon wondered if you were angry. no, that didn’t seem likely. not first thing in the morning. “are you alright?” he still asked, concern lacing your name. your hold on his wrist tightened for just a fraction.
“….yes,” you responded, albeit hesitantly, head glancing over your shoulder for the barest moment before slowing your brisk walking pace altogether. inhaled, then exhaled. “sorry.” a hint of embarrassment crept into your voice. “didn’t want anyone around.”
the both of you reached a secluded area of the RAD courtyard. "did something happen back at the house of lamentation?" you were not one to be so affected by something as juvenile as teasing. "another sermon from lucifer?" his palm searched for yours, interlacing your fingers together.
"thankfully, not." you let go of him, toying with the drawstrings of your hoodie instead.
"are you feeling ill, perhaps? you shouldn't push yourself too much - "
"no, no, no! it's nothing serious, i promise." you'd have to forgive him for being overbearing, he can't quite read your expression as well since you came to campus in a mask and hoodie. "i'm just…"
"why don't we sit down?" simeon's voice was gentle as he guided you to one of the stone benches. "i'll listen."
"…i already told you," you mumbled, then sighed. "…i guess i'll just show you. please don't laugh."
the realization dawned on him as soon as you tugged down the hood of your jacket. well, it was impossible not to notice the new blemishes dotting the apples of your cheeks. some lighter, others darker than your complexion. constellations on your skin.
a warm mix of embarrassment and affection bubbled up within simeon once you fully pulled down the facemask. "oh. those are - "
"asmo called them 'angel kisses,'" you finished his sentence. the words trailed off into a loud, loud silence.
simeon's smile was met with your lips pulling into a frown - or would it be more apt to describe it as a pout? - your palms reflexively moved to obscure the new marks as best as they could. "they didn't appear until now, does that mean, everything before…us wasn't…?"
"no! no, that's not true." you're drawn into a tight hug. simeon's voice dropped to a decibel low enough for only your ears. "i'm guessing they're only showing now because - "
oh, when you looked at him with those eyes - open and trusting and utterly adorable - his heart was going to burst from the sheer affection he held for you.
" - i want to show you these feelings every time we're together, even if there isn't a special occasion at the moment." angels were created to love humans wholly and unconditionally, but this went beyond his divine programming. encompassed a mere fraction of the free will that deeply belonged to humans. "and i can't control myself that well when we're together, i'm - i'm sorry about that."
your knuckles brushed against his cheek, gentle and soothing. followed by the press of your lips. "don't be, i'm sorry for overthinking."
he'd half a mind to mirror the chaste kiss, but decided better - kissing the top of your head. both a sort of blessing and gesture of love in its purest form. "i should have explained that beforehand," simeon mused. "is there anything else burdening you?"
"nothing, well…" that shy look crept back onto your features. "maybe, anywhere under the collar's fine. like, for when i have to be out the next day?"
"oh. oh!" a bashful laugh slipped from him. simeon had to get used to the burn of mortification alongside the swell of affection. "of course! next time, i'll remember that."
(no wonder his celestial magic always went a little haywire when he was with you.)
note: anything marked with (*), make sure to heed the warnings
[RAMBLE] on simeon as a director
[HCS] some things about obey me simeon
[SMUT] quickie (asmodeus x gn!reader): 1.4k words of asmodeus falling into his first love
[SMUT RAMBLE] a simpeon's collection of asmo-centered wips
[SMUT] stand still (asmodeus x afab!reader x belphegor): 1.9k words of trying on lingerie in front of asmo and belphie
[SMUT*] alone time (simeon x gn!reader): 2.2k words of simeon disturbing your nap
++[HCS*] alone time demon brothers' reactions: 446 words of their powerlessness in the face of your new relationship with simeon
++[SMUT*] lucidity (simeon x gn!reader):
++[SMUT*] penitence (gn!reader x simeon):
[HCS] kisses with an angel (simeon x gn!reader): 598 words of little things simeon does when sharing smooches
[SMUT] he's the romantic one (simeon x gn!reader): 2.6k words of a movie date with simeon going sideways in the best way
[SMUT] keep the dress on (gn!reader x simeon): 2.2k words of servicing maid simeon
[SMUT*] unremarkable (belphegor x gn!reader): 3.3k words of belphegor refusing to say he misses you
[ABANDONED] 3 unfinished obm stories
[RAMBLE] things ive observed while playing ruri tunes
[SMUT RAMBLE*] obey me nightbringer 12-16 but make it dark nsfw
[HCS] walking lie detector (ft. the angels): 1.08k words of the reactions and consequences of lying to the angels
++[SMUT HCS] honesty is the best policy (simeon, raphael x gn!reader)
[DRABBLE] angel kisses
[FANFIC*] you weren't meant to see this (ft. purgatory hall)
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
romantic; fluff, reverse comfort, angst if you squint, established relationship
[ haven't written in a while.. i might have gotten rustyyy , eepy solomon ]
obey me masterlist | main masterlist
He barely registers the sound of feet padding across the floor until a weighted blanket is placed across his shoulders. Blinking away the doze he fell into, blobs of your facial features enter his field of vision, the flutter of his eyelashes increasing when he could make out the furrow between your eyebrows.
"The tea wasn't sweet enough," he suddenly remarks, gaze sweeping to the empty cup on the table for a few seconds, "Didn't wake me up."
A sigh escapes your lips and the room is quiet before you take a step closer. Warm against his cold pale skin, your palm cups the side of his face, thumb softly carressing the curve of his cheek. White strands lightly tickle your hand as he leans in, the action not diminishing a certain firmness in your tone.
"Well, good."
His head tilts up, familiar hues of brown and blue in his irises meeting yours. Good? What part of it is good? The sorcerer's mouth opens except you're much ahead.
"You should sleep."
A laughter bubbles up from the back of his throat, the sound coming out more slurry and hushed in his half concious state. Sleep? That's for humans. He isn't one. Well, not anymore anyway.
Your lips are pursed tightly then at his reaction, something he realizes only when he feels a small sting to his cheek. He smiles, lifting a hand and covering your fingers with it instead. Did you just pinched him?
"What?" The one sentence tumbles out innocent from one who's infamous for just being himself.
"You should sleep." You repeat, and perhaps because you were the one who said it, his focus subconciously direct to his bed behind you. Two pillows are arranged next to each other, one side of the bedsheet crumpled beside the other still neatly tucked and flat, the sight still strange for him to grasp his mind around. He doesn't dwell on it too much. He can think about it tomorrow. He should think about it tomorrow. For tonight, he should...
"Sleep." He hums in agreement, pressing a kiss to the inside of your wrist. Just for a night.. Tonight, he'll sleep. Tonight, he's a human lulled in the embrace of his lover. Tonight, he's the human he hardly remembers: Solomon.
