[9:12 PM] Kageyama Tobio

[9:12 PM] Kageyama Tobio

wc: 800

warnings/content: fluff

--

“Tobio, it’s cold,” you complain. 

“It’s winter.” 

You pout. “Okay, and?” 

Silence. 

“Tobio, I’m cold.” 

More silence. 

“TOBIO!” 

“I told you to bring an extra jacket,” he says as he wraps his own scarf around your neck. “You can’t have my jacket.” 

“You’re mean,” you grumble, shrinking your neck to dip as much of your face as you can into his scarf. 

He hums in distant acknowledgement. 

Tobio’s always been awkward but you figure the years of dating and living together would have knocked that out of him. For the past few weeks however, it’s like he’s regressed to his high school state of socialization. 

It’s also been a little strange that homebody Tobio has finally been taking hints with the yelp screenshots you’ve been sending for years and taking you to dinners at nice restaurants you have been wanting to try. At least he has a professional athlete salary and sponsorships to keep this lifestyle up, you suppose. 

“Did you enjoy dinner?” 

A soft grunt. 

“Did you like it more than the last place?” 

A hum. 

“Well, I liked the place we went to last week more.” 

Silence. 

You stop and Tobio doesn’t seem to notice. He keeps walking, face to the ground, deep in thought. 

You let him get about 10 steps away before you’ve had it. With his track record of ignoring you for the past month, you figure he’d get all the way home before even noticing that he left you in the cold. 

“Tobio!” You emphasize your frustration with a childish little stomp of your boots on the pavement. 

He startles and turns around. “Why are you all the way back there?” rushing back over to you and mumbling a quiet apology. He grabs your hand and begins walking again, but you stay rooted to your spot. You yank your hand away and cross your arms over your chest. 

“I’m not moving until you tell me what’s on your mind.” 

Tobio looks around and says, “can we not do this here?” 

“I’m not embarrassed about making a scene out in public if that’s what it takes for my boyfriend to tell me why he’s been such a bad boyfriend recently!” 

He blinks a bit at that, as if the thought of being a bad boyfriend has only just occurred to him. You watch the expressions fly across his face; first a furrowed brow and open mouth to rebut, then a pause as if he remembers all the dinner dates he was in outer space for, then resignation with a sigh and one hand running down his face. 

“I’m sorry. I promise I’ll tell you, but at home. It’s not good for us to do this outside when you’re already freezing.” 

Despite his gentler tone, it does nothing to soothe the unease. Does Tobio maybe… want to break up? If that was really it, you think it’d be better to do it at home, away from prying eyes anyway. 

You nod, lips wobbling a bit. Tobio flashes you a slight smile, one of the firsts you’ve seen in weeks. You don’t know if it makes you want to cry or smile back at him. 

“C’mon,” he says as he once again reaches for your hand. This time, you allow him to guide your frigid fingers into his coat pocket where they brush against something hard. 

Still in his pocket, you unwind your fingers from his and feel for the item again. Feels like a velvet box. 

Tobio freezes. 

You wind your hands around the box, thumbs beginning to drift over the divot in the box. 

Tobio grabs your wrist and yanks it out of his pocket, just before you can close your fist over the item. You’re staring at your empty hand that was ejected from his pockets, semi-comprehending the situation.

When you return your gaze to Tobio, his face is red and it’s not from the cold. The flush reaches down to his neck before being hidden by his turtleneck; you suspect it reaches all the way to his sternum, like it does when you’re in bed together. 

“Tobio…” 

One of his hands is rubbing the back of his neck and his eyes are averted. You reach up and cup the reddest part of his neck. The cool from your fingertips jolts him and he meets your eyes with his comically widened ones. 

“Is that what I think it is?” 

“No! Well, maybe. I- uh.” 

“Is that what all these fancy dinners were about?” 

Every question you ask seems to make your large, 6’2” boyfriend shrink before your eyes. He lets out a large exhale. “This is why I wanted to do this at home.” 

You giggle a bit and let him go. Content that you’ve figured out what has been bothering your boyfriend and excited for what was waiting for you at home, you skip down the path towards your shared place. “C’mon, Tobio! Let’s go home. Can you believe I thought you were going to break up with me?” you laugh. 

This time, it’s you who notices that Tobio’s footsteps aren’t following you anymore. You turn around, about to urge your silly boyfriend to walk faster so you can get your present that’s at least a month in the making. 

Only to find Tobio on one knee.

Journals

I wanted to write my thoughts on how and why they'd keep a journal. I wanted to do most of them at once but I just finished Mammon's and it's 00:26am I really wanna sleep but I'm equally excited to share it so i'll link the rest of them later.

Lucifer

“Dear Lilith,”

His journal is handmade by a well-known bookbinder in the Devildom and he enchanted it so only he could open it as long as he is alive. He takes the time to write in it daily, in between two pieces of paperwork or at the end of the day. He prefers to be alone when he does because he gets emotional but if he is comfortable enough with you he’d appreciate it if you laid beside him and put your head on his lap while he strokes your head. He writes as if he was going to send a letter to his little sister; always starts with “Dear Lilith,” or “Beloved sister,” and never ends it, as in he doesn’t sign it or finish with a formula; it relieves him from the burden thought that he cannot send it to anyone, anywhere.

He dearly remembers meaningful events from his life; like the annoying’s exchange student arrival in the Devildom or his first kiss with that very same loved individual, so he only talks about the mundane in his entries. He talks about his brothers’ shenanigans and achievements throughout their immortal life. The afternoon Levi flooded the whole house by summoning Lotan and how Levi looked like a kicked puppy after realizing the mess he made out of the house. The way Mammon carefully enters his room and takes comfort in curling up next to his big brother when he has a nightmare, despite denying it all every morning when it happens. That’s where he externalizes his gentler side and soft spot for his brothers. He talks so fondly of them every night, no matter how disastrous or problematic they made his day; that’s maybe why he hasn’t cursed them in a timeless loop yet.

Mammon

”Dear Goldie,”

He occasionally writes in it, probably in a digital journal. He has a racing mind and despite being quite gifted in terms of hand skills, he isn’t a fast writer on the paper. Not only does he has a racing mind but since you came along, more often than not he finds himself with a racing heart in front of the screen. You can be assured he did talk about your first kiss, and if you squint you can find hints of his undying love for you long before you even developed feelings for him. He repertories every first times with you, and he is minutious about it. The way you smiled at him, hold him, and over all the way you make him feel even when you’re not around; he cherishes every memory he has of you. He types all his feelings out with shaky hands, every so often rolling over, and hiding his flushed face in a pillow.

He initially talks about his money schemes and wins and, more often than he’d ever admit it, he writes one paragraph or two about his brothers and the Purgatory boys. He mostly sounds like a sad teenage girl. That’s where he pours out everything he doesn’t show or say to them especially when they’re ruthless with him. It’s not all sorrow and worries in his journal. He notices the sweet treats made and gifted by little chubby hands in his room, and a clumsy note about how “devilish and inappropriate” it is to stay out the whole evening and night. He surely takes the time to write about the restful nap he took with Belphie and Luke under a tree after a family picnic. He will not fail to remember Asmo’s delighted expression when they managed to get the last pink-cherry-devil smoothie after driving all around the Devildom for hours.

of muffins and slip-ups

wc: 1.7k

pairing: osamu miya x gn!reader

warnings: none (osamu’s hypnotizing tiddies)

Standing on tiptoe, you reach up into your cabinet and feel around for the vial of vanilla extract you know you have somewhere, and when you finally find it, you pluck it from the shelf to inspect it. You peer between the recipe on your phone and the bottle, brows furrowing. You don’t have nearly enough. You really should’ve checked your cabinets before embarking on a late-night baking session. 

As you frustratedly stare at the half-finished batter on your counter, you weigh your options. You could make a quick run to the store, you reason. It’s not that far of a walk. But when your gaze flickers to the digital clock on the microwave — 8:45 PM — you realize you’d never make it in time, and you refuse to be the person that shows up to a store five minutes before it closes.

And you’ve already made it this far — the bowl is out, the measuring cups are dirty, the muffin tin is meticulously paper-lined. You sigh. It’d be a waste to throw everything out now, and you aren’t keen on leaving it in the fridge overnight. Left with no other options, you decide there’s only one thing left to do — ask a neighbor.

You’re new to the building, and not quite friends with anyone yet, so the thought of going door to door to beg for some vanilla isn’t exactly what you planned on doing with your Wednesday night, but hey, nobody’s perfect. You consider asking the girl next door, the one who’d invited you over on your first weekend in the building. She was nice enough, but before you slip your feet into a pair of slippers, you remember that she stays with her boyfriend during the week.

You could ask that guy down the hall, but he’d ogled at you on the elevator last weekend, and the thought of knocking on his door and subjecting yourself to more of his looks made a hint of nausea settle in your stomach.

You stand, idle in front of your door, slippers and pajamas on and groan. The guy across the hall — Miya Osamu. You’ve bumped into him virtually everywhere since you moved in. The mail room, the laundry room, in the lobby and the hallway. And every time he’d fix you with this handsome, toothy grin, making casual small talk when he could. You’ve even seen him help the elderly woman downstairs with her groceries. He seems disarmingly perfect, so surely he wouldn’t slam the door in your face at your request. At least, you hope not.

Keep reading

Haikyuu boys you meet while pet-sitting

Daichi, Matsukawa, Kuroo, Ushijima x afab reader Word count: ~1.6k Tags & warnings: Smut, smut, n more SMUT-MDNI, thigh riding, dom (teeny tiny), praise, p in v, creampie (implied), oral sex (m and f receiving), hair pulling, fingering, throat fucking, I love a man that smells good and has a sexy voice

Note: New year, same horny me. This got out of hand. Recently did a lot of pet-sitting and I wish any (all) of this happened. It’s my first time writing smut - thoughts & constructive criticism welcome

You meet Daichi before you even start cat-sitting. Due to a last-minute itinerary change, your friend flew out a day early and left her extra key with a neighbor for you to pick up. He opens the door dressed in a t-shirt and shorts and you’re reduced to a stammering mess as you gape at his immense biceps and thighs, trying to explain that you’re the cat-sitter and sorry for disturbing him but could you please get your friend’s key?

Daichi is too polite to comment on your wandering eyes and nervous stuttering, but he’s smirking to himself after he closes his door. Unfortunately for your composure, he suddenly finds himself needing to borrow a lot of things. Could he get some sugar? One of his best friends is an elementary school teacher, you see, and he wants to bring some cookies for the kids when he goes for a class visit. Does your friend have a wrench he can use? You don’t know where it is? Well, why doesn’t he come in to help you find it? You get used to seeing him every day, although he makes you short circuit each time, your nerves constantly on edge because he’s always murmuring things in your ear (he doesn’t want to startle you by yelling) or accidentally brushing against you (he can’t help it, he’s just so broad).

He finally decides to stop teasing you and asks you out to dinner. He’s so sweet and funny, and you find that when you’re not too flustered to function, you really enjoy his company, so much so that you invite him in for a drink afterward. The alcohol must have gone to straight to your pussy though because you quickly find yourself straddling him, absolutely intoxicated by his deep voice and masculine scent. You’re drenched and you can feel him straining against his pants, but he doesn’t want to rush it with you. He exudes natural authority, which is why you don’t let out a peep of protest when he tells you to ride his thigh first. He sits back with his hands behind his head and drinks in your furrowed brow and desperate whimpers as you grind yourself against his rock-hard muscle, cooing, “You’re doing so good, baby. Be really good and cum for me and I’ll give you a big reward.”

You’re confused when you call for your friend’s cat to come inside one night only to see her climb out of the neighbor’s window. The neighbor in question, Matsukawa, steps out onto the shared balcony and is just as confused to see you. You tell him you’re cat-sitting and he explains that your friend’s cat likes to sit on his laptop while he works. It turns into a comfortable routine to talk with him in the evenings while you wait for the cat to return. He’s incredibly handsome, but more than that he’s magnetic, witty, and has an absolutely lewd sense of humor that he’s surprised you love.

What you don’t know is that he’s got a major problem with you. The problem being he’s confused - no, frustrated - by why you’ve suddenly started wearing a shirt so flimsy it leaves nothing to the imagination. Every night, he struggles to keep himself from fixating on the swell of your breasts and the outline of your nipples poking through the sheer fabric. When he retreats to his apartment after your chats, he’s so worked up he has to fuck his fist, picturing how you’d look underneath him, glassy-eyed and drooling with his cum all over those pretty tits and leaking out of your pussy.

After a solid week, he decides enough is enough and invites you over. The two of you barely make it more than 10 minutes. He’s pouring you a drink when you confess you’ve been wearing that shirt on purpose after seeing him out on a run. In a flash, Issei’s got you bent over his kitchen counter, pulling your panties to the side. He barely needs to prep you because you’ve been looking forward to this all day, cursing under his breath as his fingers slide in with little resistance. He pulls your head back by your hair and growls into your ear while he rails you from behind, “If you’re gonna tease me, you better be ready to show me what this tight little pussy can do.” You barely register what he’s saying because the only thing you can focus on is how full you feel with each delicious drag of his thick cock against your slick walls. His cum drips down your thighs as he reaches between your legs one more time. “Gonna cum on my cock again baby?”

You first see Kuroo one morning while walking your friend’s dog. He’s out on a run with his own dog and you’d have to be a statue to be impervious to how his shirt clings to his chest. He sees you checking him out and decides to give you a show by lifting up the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his neck. Except he accidentally uses the same hand that’s holding the leash, causing his dog to pull him forward flat onto his face. After you make sure they’re both ok, you let yourself laugh so hard you get a stomachache.

You wonder if you’ll run into him again after that fiasco. He must be shameless because he makes sure to leave the house at the same time the next morning to catch you. He’s more sheepish this time, though he still drops some cheesy jokes. You run into him every morning after that, and every evening too. He always stops to chat. You give him shit for how unfunny he is, but he lives to hear your groans when he comes up with an especially terrible line. You two fluster each other constantly. His stomach flutters on the rare instances he actually makes you laugh - loudly and genuinely - at something he says. Meanwhile, you’re speechless when he starts running without a shirt on (because it’s hot out and not for any other reason), eyes hungrily taking in every inch of corded muscle. He smirks when he catches you gawking at him yet again, “Want me to ask you over or something?” Let me tell you, that false bravado slips right off when you reply, “Yea, I’d like that,” and suddenly he’s the one that's a stuttering wreck.

You go over to watch a movie together that night, but don’t get far because it’s adorable how he fidgets with his hair and his cheeky grin is so charming and he smells so enticing that it’s impossible to keep your hands to yourself. He shoos his dog out of the bedroom when you get down to business because “I don’t want her to see this.” As ridiculous as this man is, he is an artiste when it comes to eating pussy. He’s got you cumming around his tongue and fingers for the fourth time and doesn’t show any signs of slowing down. You’re gasping for breath, barely able to form a coherent thought, cunt drenched and clenching and begging for him to fuck you already. “Cum for me one more time baby, then I’ll do whatever you want.” But he’s said that three times already.

You’re intimidated when Ushijima opens his door but not too intimidated to ogle him as drops of sweat glide down his naked torso. You’ve interrupted him in the middle of a workout, but how were you to know? You just wanted to hand over a package that had been misdelivered to your friend’s apartment next door. You watch the way his muscles ripple as he reaches for the box, and he watches you brazenly eyefuck him (to be fair, his pecs are right there, not to mention the shadow of something massive in his shorts).

After that, he always offers a polite hello in the hallway, but never initiates conversation and only gives you one-word responses, so you figure he’s not interested. It’s disappointing, but at least you can still fantasize about him, moaning his name while knuckle deep in your soaking cunt, desperately wishing it was his thick fingers instead. You hear a knock and hurriedly throw on a robe to find Ushijima at the door. He clears his throat. “Were you…calling for me?” SHIT. You forgot to close the windows. If only the ground would swallow you whole right now so you don’t have to stammer out an excuse, any excuse.

But then you notice the nervous bob of his adam’s apple and the bulge in his pants, and you find yourself asking if he came over to help. He nods, following you to the couch obediently like a huge puppy. He’s so timid at first, letting out sweet little whines when you wrap your lips around him, barely able to fit a few inches in your mouth. But now he’s grunting like a feral thing as he fists your hair, slamming his cock over and over again into the back of your throat, unable to hold back as he chases his own release. And after he pumps your throat full of cum, you’re going to count yourself the luckiest bitch in the world as you slowly sink your dripping pussy down onto his fat cock. “Are you sure I’ll fit?” he whispers in a haze, watching your eyes roll back as he disappears inside of you inch by inch.

Note 2: Pussydrunk Kuroo or bust. Ok but now I’m thinking about how hilarious (read: horny & amazing) reader’s life would be if this was all in the same apartment complex and happening at the same time

cw: fluff with minimal angst, reader and tsumu had an argument, msby4 is there, food mentions, probably bad writing like i just wrote this but i can't remember what i actually wrote which is a little alarming..., unedited and not proofread :,)

<bokuto3: hi it's atsumu

<bokuto3: WHY DOES BOKKUN HAVE YOUR CONTACT AS '<y/n3'?????? OUTRAGEOUS.

<bokuto3: anyways hi it's atsumu

<bokuto3: i miss u :( pls unblock me asap i'm sorry baby please i really am

<bokuto3: please don't be mad at me i thikn i'm lodsing my mind

<bokuto3: call me back. or text me back. unbloc k my email too thanx

<bokuto3: okay bye i luv u to the moon and back

<bokuto3: i'd do anything for u baby pls jyst talk to me again and i'd even swallow hot coals if you asked pls pls pls

<bokuto3: i love you

<bokuto3: i love you

<bokuto3: i love you

<bokuto3: i love you

you: give bokuto his phone back. get back to practice. bye.

<bokuto3: LOVE OF MY LIFE

<bokuto3: NO Y/N PLEASE I MISS YOU SO MUCH DON'T GO

you pocket your phone with a sigh, ignoring the way it continually buzzes with with messages and spam texts, probably just of atsumu professing his undying love for you and grovelling. pretty standard of him after an argument so intense that you had to walk out on before things escalated to places you would regret.

you can't deny that you miss him too, and it's been less than 24 hours since you saw him last.

in fact, you literally saw him this morning when sending him off to practice with a grumbled 'have a good practice' after he kissed over your forehead with a lightness rivalling a feather. a gentleness typically unseen from him.

really, the blond setter was just terrified of irritating you further.

then when you got up half an hour later, you're not pleased to see how atsumu was spamming you with messages, all conveying the messages he was scared of saying earlier. things like 'i love you', 'can't wait to go home to you', or 'did you see the photo of osamu's cat i sent'.

it's sweet, really; he is, but when you're still a little hurt from the harsh exchange you had last night, you didn't want him blowing up your phone this early in the morning.

so your only solution for a peaceful morning was to block him apparently.

something that clearly did not sit well with him because he then started spamming your socials and your emails with protests. did he not have practice to get to? where was all this time coming from?

you blocked him on those platforms too from the goodness of your heart because you had a feeling that he was skipping warmup in order to text you. if he pulled a muscle during practice, you don't want to begin imagining what a pain he'd be to look after.

glancing around the park you were currently strolling through to clear your mind, you only get a second to breathe when your phone starts buzzing again. this time, with a call notification from bokuto.

picking up, you immediately assume that it's atsumu who is bothering you after suffering the blows of how hard you've been ghosting him.

"atsumu for the love of-"

you're cut off of your own sentence when you hear somewhat muffled voices in the background.

"damn you messed up big time!" comes hinata's bubbly voice. you can indistinctly hear someone agreeing in the background- bokuto?

"stop rubbing it in!" atsumu exclaims, whining. you can picture him in your head right now, slouching against the wall as he deflates with each reminder of his mistake.

bokuto must have pocket-dialed you. you're about to hang up until you hear:

"how about you stop being miserable? your relationship with y/n will be fine as long as you apologise, this isn't the end of the world," lectures sakusa.

"for you maybe! ah already feel like y/n's slipping away from my grasp," cries your boyfriend. "and y/n is my world. so really, it does feel like the end of the world."

"you know what they say. love kills," mutters bokuto.

"literally no one has ever said that," sakusa deadpans.

"someone's probably said it."

"well if love does kill can it hurry up with atsumu?"

the dark-haired's simple statement makes you laugh, one that bursts suddenly before you have to cover your mouth from shame, hoping that it didn't disturb anyone.

"hey!" atsumu huffs before you can hear him groan dramatically again. except something's telling you that this isn't for show. "can't ya show a little sympathy to the guy who is having the worst time of his life? my partner doesn't even want to talk to me! i might as well rot right here and now."

"don't do that!" protests bokuto. "i'm sure y/n isn't as mad as you think. just talk to-"

"-what do you think i've been doing this whole time? i've been grovelling-"

"-no, you've been a bitch. i don't think telling y/n to 'text you back' counts as a proper apology."

the setter 'hmphs' and you can imagine the way he's crossing his arms. atsumu never did lose that immature side of him, but he tries, and you adore him for it. "is proclaiming my love not enough?"

"you can say 'i love you' to everyone, idiot, and you can confess your undying adoration for y/n any time. you do it on a regular basis anyways, atsumu, you don't need to double down on it just because you had an argument-"

"-but i'm scared that y/n will forget!"

the blond's outburst stuns everyone into silence. you hear a sniffle.

"what if i'm not worth the time? sometimes i get really scared that y/n might pack up and leave me because there's someone better out there. someone more patient and less of a hassle?"

it's so painfully silent, but each word that atsumu mutters is like a knife to your heart. how long has he felt this way?

hinata is the first to break the awkwardness. "c'mon man, you're literally high school sweethearts. i don't think you have anything to worry about."

"yeah, you're being silly right now, tsum-tsum!" bokuto agrees. "after all this time together, i think y/n has a reason to stay with you!"

"apart from my dashing good looks?"

"stupidity is temporary. get better soon," sakusa grumbles.

"omi-omi you're so mean!"

you hang up the call when you hear atsumu's chirpy tone again, unable to stop a smile from appearing on your own face. so long as he was happy, you were too.

that's what happens when you're soulmates, you suppose.

it's the same soulmate bond responsible for the fact that you were currently waiting outside the gym where msby practices were held, impatiently leaning against a small pole as you pass time on your phone.

then, just as you look up to check if anyone has left the building, your heart stops at the sight of a familiar faux-blond, animatedly chatting to one of his teammates. but when he meets your gaze, it takes him less than a fraction of a second to charge towards you.

instead of bracing for impact, you open your arms for him to tackle into, an offer he takes immediately.

as you both stumble backwards from the momentum, atsumu revels in your laughter and cherishes the feeling he gets knowing that everything is okay between you two. you chose to greet him after practice, you chose to go the somewhat inconvenient route all the way to his gym, you chose him and he hopes you never consider another option again.

and you won't. atsumu loves too hard and too well, warming you from the inside out to defrost any pain the coldness of life might leave you with. although he sometimes gets insecure about this overbearing trait of his, you get to show him each time just how beautiful it is; to wear your heart on your sleeve and love the world for what it is.

to love you for who you are.

"i'm sorry," he begins. "for what ah said last night, i was a real dick."

you smile. "well if you're really sorry, you'd let me take you out for some food, right?"

"only if it's your favourite."

"okay, sap. let's go then."

you think you hear atsumu whisper a 'thank you for letting me love you' before pulling him away.

He Knows

GN!MC X Obey Me characters

Lucifer knows - that he should restrain himself. That he's smiling too much, too openly around you. That the day he lays definite claim on you, the chaos in the house will be enough to set it on fire.

That the closest he can be to you is behind closed doors, when you are sitting next to him, helping him verify documents and applications from the Student Council. He knows and yet his hand reaches for yours as you are about to leave.

"Why don't you stay the night here, MC?"

💫

Mammon knows - that you deserve so much more than him. That he keeps calling himself Great in hopes that he'll someday believe himself. That you're one bad day away from your seemingly endless patience running out.

That right even though, you're looking at him as if you'll never love anyone else now, it might just be temporary. Yet, he sinks his head deeper into your lap and mumbles softly.

"Being your first enough. Make me your last too, MC, please."

💫

Leviathan knows - that he's being selfish. That you're constantly sacrificing your own desires to meet his and he's not stopping you. That your little finger is worth more than his entire existence and you're endlessly kind to give him even a minute of your precious time.

That even though you're sitting here laughing and nudging him, you deserve to be with people who can match your dazzling energy. He knows and yet he turns to look at you with his sheepish smile you like.

"Want a play a few more rounds, MC?"

💫

Satan knows - that he's one of the biggest threats to your life in the house. That no matter how hard he represses his rage, it will always be utterly destructive when it comes out. That you're the last person he wants to hurt. That it might only take one wrong move to harm your fragile body beyond repair.

That even though you look so content leaning on him as you read from the same book, he'd much rather lock himself away to keep you safe. And yet, he lets you rest your head on his shoulder, running his fingers through your hair.

"You can lean in closer if it makes you comfortable, MC."

💫

Asmodeus knows - that his beauty is useless when it comes to you. That your soul shines much brighter than his ever did. That no matter how much his improves his night-time skin routine, he can never really charm you the way he can do with others.

That his heart beats faster when you merely touch his cheek and tell him how cute he looks blushing. That even though you call him gorgeous no matter, his beauty alone won't be enough. Yet he keeps dressing up for you, twirling for you as you cheer him on.

"Keep looking at me, MC."

💫

Beelzebub knows - that his hunger will one day be a nuisance to you. That you learned to eat less so you can push more of your food onto his plate. That he might end up eating a good amount of human world food that was meant especially for you. That your stomach often roars softly in class because you gave him your lunch.

That despite all that you still smile excitedly when it's your turn to cook, proudly an extra large batch to fill his appetite. And yet, he lets you feed him with your hands, getting extra large plates so there's always enough left for you.

"Now it's my turn to feed you, MC. Say ahh."

💫

Belphegor knows - that he can never truly be redeemed. That you are far too forgiving for your own good and he hates taking advantage of that. That he can't deny it when you so nonchalantly offer your shoulder for him to sleep on. That he can't give up on this escapist bliss and bring himself to apologise for that night.

That he tries to fall asleep before you because he gets afraid if he stares at your closed eyes for too long. That when you fall asleep next to him, he often checks your neck for your pulse and the hideous marks of his sin. Yet he curls up closer, offering his pillow for you to share.

"You can lay next to me whenever you're tired, MC."