The Characters Finding Out About Mc's Fwb But Instead Of It Being With A Random Demon, It's Solomon >>>>

the characters finding out about mc's fwb but instead of it being with a random demon, it's solomon >>>>

them being flabbergasted not only about the situation but that you have the arrangement with that shady sorcerer. also frustrated because of course you'd take comfort on the only other human in the devildom!

a/n: mmm yes I think most of them would have something to say about that.

➤ when they find out solomon is your fwb | the demon brothers + dateables

1k words | gn!reader | nsfw | snarky and suggestive

c/w: jealousy, non-explicit sexual content, implied voyeurism, implied threesomes/moresomes

related: reacting to you having a fwb: the demon brothers | the dateables

disappointed but not surprised: lucifer, beelzebub, diavolo

They warned you, didn't they? Solomon is the shadiest sorcerer to ever exist. He's powerful and unpredictable and he can't even be called human anymore. Why in all the Devildom did you have to pick him? You could've had literally anyone else! Unheeded warnings about not getting too close to Solomon turn into vague reminders that the demons are there to save you from that white-haired menace if you need it. Lucifer sneaks behind your back and gives him the world's scariest shovel talk, which is a little silly since this was only supposed to be a casual arrangement for comfort and intimacy. (Of course, no one realizes that you and Solomon managed to catch feels along the way.) Lucifer's thinly-veiled threats promising a painful demise should be enough to scare anyone away. None of them expect Solomon to abruptly end your casual relationship so that he can date you officially instead. He looks far too smug with himself when you hold his hand at RAD in front of the others and when he becomes a semi-regular visitor at the House of Lamentation. Your undeniable happiness is a constant reminder to the others that they underestimated both humans in the exchange program.

why didn't anyone stop them?! (yeah, they're jealous af): mammon, leviathan, satan, belphegor

This is awful. Isn't this why they were supposed to keep an eye on you, to keep you from getting mixed up with people like him?!

"Weren't you supposed to do that, Mammon?"

"Shuddup!"

They hate Solomon's guts. They don't think he deserves you. (They might not deserve you either, but you could do a hell of a lot better than him!) They roll their eyes and gag dramatically when Solomon kisses your cheek or cozies up beside you in the cafeteria at lunch. When you're not looking, they shoot daggers at him and make not-too-subtle gestures that translate roughly to I'm watching you and if you hurt them, you die. They're less subtle and more aggressive than Lucifer is, and Solomon thinks it's hilarious. He knows how lucky he is that he caught your eye first and not them. He'd be lying to himself if he said he didn't enjoy rubbing it in their faces just a little bit. Maybe he forgets to use a silencing charm on your bedroom door when he fucks you in the House of Lamentation. Maybe he wears low-collar shirts to show off the fresh line of marks you made around the base of his neck. He leaves a toothbrush in your ensuite bathroom and spare clothes in your closet. Sometimes you wear his clothes when you don't have class because they still smell like him. You don't notice the demons sitting beside you at breakfast twitch in their seats and suddenly lose their appetites. You feel so fortunate that you found friendship and love in the Devildom. Your friends tell you (and themselves) that they're happy for you too. You don't notice how fake their smiles are when they see you together (but Solomon does).

they're surprisingly okay with it and no one understands why: asmodeus, barbatos, simeon

They don’t know whether to blame fate or their own bad luck that brought you and Solomon together. They grudgingly admit you could do a lot worse than the white-haired menace that seems to adore you. As long as you’re happy and treated well, they don't feel it’s their place to interfere. The others might sulk and pretend they’re not disappointed, or they might be openly belligerent about it, but some of your friends still support you above all else. Asmo drags you into his room and gossips with you about Solomon while he does your nails. Tell me, you can be honest—how is he in bed with you? I’ve never seen him like this with anyone else! Oh, I bet he's so romantic, isn't he~ He’s curious about your relationship and teases you for intimate details that are too personal to share, but you know he's genuinely excited for you. Barbatos doesn’t say much about your relationship openly, but he enjoys reminding the others that if they were less distracted by their own foolishness, they wouldn’t have taken you for granted. Simeon welcomes you with open arms as a guest to Purgatory Hall when the atmosphere at the House of Lamentation grows too stifling. He does his best to make sure Solomon doesn’t completely ruin dinner when you visit in the evenings. He enjoys discussing books and your other shared interests when the sorcerer is busy; Solomon knows you're safe with the angels in his absence.

Like Asmo and Barbatos, you grow closer with Simeon as well through your mutual connections to Solomon. You might not realize what they’re up to when they try to spend more time with you outside of class, but Solomon does. Their sweet gestures of comfort linger far too long to be considered platonic, and the way desire creeps into their eyes when they gaze at you from afar would irritate him if they were anyone else. He has long, colourful pasts with both Asmo and Barbatos, and Simeon quickly became one of his trusted friends while living in the close quarters of Purgatory Hall together. It wouldn't be the first time Solomon invited one of his acquaintances for a little bit of fun in the bedroom, but that was only to share casual partners he didn’t have feelings for. The thought of sharing you with anyone else nearly drives him to violence. Time dulls those jealous impulses, and he admits how appealing it would be to watch you with one (or more) of them together. You’re so lovely in the throes of pleasure, and there's a certain thrill from watching on the sidelines. He knows they'll obey without question when he tells them how to touch you, and he can savor watching you fall apart under their hands and his sinful commands. He gets hard just imagining you crying out his name when you cum, even if one of the others is between your legs instead of him. If you admit to feeling desire for any of them, he'll discuss those delicious possibilities with you too.

when solomon falls in love

content + warnings: solomon x reader, angst with a happy ending, there is a deep sadness within solomon but i can fix him, minor discussions of s3 plot points // [masterlist]

word count: ~1.5k

the day solomon realizes he's in love with you is the worst day of his life, he thinks, in the first moment he realizes.

solomon's had a lot of terrible days. from simple ones-- caught in the rain, misplaced keys, harsh words spoken by people he cares about-- to life-altering, fate-changing hellish days. he's been around for centuries, and admittedly conjured himself up some pretty shitty karma. this day, however, tops the list.

because the moment solomon realizes he's in love with you is the moment he realizes he'll never have you.

it's a rare moment the both of you are sharing. the two of you are alone in a coffee shop in some quaint corner of the human realm. your trials with the sorcerer society have been wearing on you, so solomon saw it fitting to sweep his adorable little apprentice away for some well-deserved down time.

it's dawn here. sunlight peaks through the clouds, painting the gray skies a vibrant orange through the shop's large windows. the sunlight tickles your cheekbones, occasionally catching your eyes and making them flutter as you dodge the blinding sunbeams. how long has it been since solomon's seen you in the daylight? the devildom is beautiful, but it's dark and dim during all hours of the day. he's used to seeing you under city lights, shop signs and advertisements in neon colors dancing across your features. or under the warm-but-artificial house lights in all the buildings down there, cozy but not quite the same. no, you look best in daylight. golden, pure daylight, trickling through the cosmos just so he can see every detail on your face.

he wants to memorize you. he wants to etch your features into his brain so that he'll be able to remember you far into the future. the coming days are uncertain. licensure into the sorcerer's society is not exactly easy-- you'll have your work cut out for you if you continue down this path. maybe somewhere along the way you'll find yourself content instead with a simple life in the human realm, shedding the devildom like a winter coat in spring when your life begins a new chapter. he's always worried about you, about losing you, about a day when you'll bid him goodbye for good. obsessive? he likes to think of it as "sentimental". and he's never been this sentimental for anyone else but you.

you take a sip of your drink with a small smile. it's cold outside, the subtle chill of autumn beginning to fade into the biting cold of winter. the drink in your hands is warm, and you cup it between your between your palms for warmth. he smiles. his own drink is smooth and a little bitter. solomon he grabs the last sugar packet from the center of the table and dumps it in, swirling the mixture around the distribute the sweetness. then he folds the trash into a compact ball. there's a dink! as he flicks it at you, hitting your cheek gently before it falls onto the table. you laugh at his antics. it's the best sound he's ever heard.

"gotcha."

"what are you, seven?"

"you're just mad i have good aim."

"yeah, yeah, whatever, old man. do... do you mind if i ask you a question?"

"anything."

you proceed to ask him how he found this place. technically, it's not even in the country you're from... he laughs and explains how he found it. he likes when your attention is focused all in on him. your eyes get this certain glint to them as you listen, like he's the only person you care about in that moment. he'd kill to see that look anywhere else-- could you imagine the faces of the demon brothers should you look at him so attentively around them?

solomon swallows down the lump of jealousy rising in his throat. that's the thing. you don't look at him like that in front of anyone else.

his next sip of coffee tastes bitter, more so than before-- he can't blame the shop, nor the sugar packet for the taste, but instead the acid creeping up his throat from the mere displeasure of the idea. it's so very solomon to ruin his own good time with a nasty thought.

why?

why does he do this to himself? to cherish something so delicate even though he knows it will shatter under the weight of life's circumstances?

that's because solomon's in love with you. and love doesn't always listen to reason.

he has toyed around with the idea of loving you for awhile. he doesn't want to. he doesn't want to always be the petulant, lost child he once was, always reaching for things he was never destined to have. when he was young, he craved freedom. as an adult, power. and now, further along in his life, he wants you.

you seem to notice the sour look on his face. your eyebrows furrow as you ask him what's wrong. it's instinct that guides him to brush you off, to give you a big smile and feign attention into whatever you begin talking about next.

does he deserve you? probably not. his sins probably outweigh that of any lower demon. he's lied and cheated, fucked people over in ways unimaginable to someone like you. you're a blank slate, a clean ledger, yet to ruin your own life. or maybe you won't. you've always been better than him that way.

will he ever distance himself to heal from the wounds of unrequited love? probably not. he'll stick by your side as you inevitably choose one of the demon brothers or angels or royals over him-- he won't blame you. of all the fascinating people you've met, he understands the allure of a human like him is dim in comparison. no hard feelings. he can't ever seem to muster up anything sour towards you.

"are you listening?" you finally ask, loud enough to grab his attention. he shakes his head with a small chuckle.

"sorry. i'm... a bit scatterbrained today. what were you saying?"

you huff. "i was telling you a story, but i bent my straw too far and it broke."

you bend it again to show him the damage. sure enough, it's snapped under the weight of your fidgeting. solomon's lips curl into a sympathetic pout.

"i can grab you another."

"nah, it's okay. i've got it."

you rise from your seat and walk to the counter of the coffee place. solomon takes a deep breath and steals his resolve. all this self-loathing and pining is making him a bad friend, and you deserve much better than to talk to a brick wall. he sighs. so what if he's in love with you? so what if he's lost in the tumult of his own feelings? he needs to get it together and enjoy this time with you before you return to the devildom, and he has to share you aga--

"excuse me?"

"yes? how can i help you?"

"can i get another straw? oh, and can i get some more of those little sugar packets? my boyfriend used the last one on the table."

"of course! give me one moment--"

...

what?

his brain almost completely shuts down hearing those words leave your lips. he subtly looks around to see if anyone else is in the coffee shop-- there's a man in the corner reading his paper and two teenagers huddled over iced coffee. no, none of them are at your table, using the last sugar packet like he did, your boyfriend--

"close your mouth. you're attracting flies," you say quietly, sliding a few sugar packets over to him.

he's... flabbergasted, honestly. during the entirety of his downward spiral, never once did he anticipate this outcome. you... you wanted him?

his lips pull into a smirk-- it's more of a grin than he wanted, but he just can't help himself right now. he's damn near giddy at your indirect confession.

"boyfriend? you wouldn't happen to be referring to me, would you?"

"that's why you brought me here, right?"

that question catches him off-guard. honestly, no. he just wanted some time to breathe with you, without obligations or demons ready to pounce for your attention. but the way your lips curl around the straw between them makes his heart race.

"... and if i did?"

"then i would say this is a pretty good date spot. now, pay attention when i talk, old man."

as attentive as he aims to be, he just can't stop his mind from wandering. you're his. all of the fear and angst wash away as the sun shines brightly on your table, illuminating the delicate wood grain beneath his trembling fingers. and for once, solomon doesn't worry about what will happen if he lets himself love you.

maybe this day isn't so bad after all.

taglist for this series: @deepseafragments // @darkflowerav // @annoying-and-upset

date idea with Ushijima

Go for hike and get carried the rest of the way to the top because you don't have the same stamina

Or he's new to Poland and he invites you to a restaurant to tast test the original dishes so you order everything of the menu and try to guess the recipe behind it

gn!reader | !!! IT’S TOSHI'S BIRTHDAY!!! >__< gonna talk about both of these. he picks a trail near your house that he's jogged dozens of times before. he makes sure you have water and sunscreen and doesn't at all mind when you ask to be carried. he'll check if you’re comfortable and tells you to watch out for branches…. slows/lets you down when you want to take photos of some flowers or a squirrel…

when you ask if he’s doing alright he tells you he’s fine and not to worry ;; you make him promise to tell you if he gets tired so you can take a break together. he could say he doesn't think he'll need to, but instead he smiles softly and says okay anyway.

! imagine his surprise when there's something set up already for his birthday up there. he's not somebody who's easily caught off guard, so you can't help but feel accomplished when he turns to you with widened eyes.

"surprise!"

wakatoshi blinks, mind still processing. but then he tilts his head, half amused, half genuinely curious. "did you really need me to carry you up the rest of the way?"

"i mean, i was tired. but also i had to sell the act, didn't i?" you smile. "are you mad?"

he lets out a breathy laugh, more a puff of air than anything, before coming closer. "no, i'd be glad to carry you up again if you wanted to come back."

"really? would you carry me down after we're done?"

his initial response isn't a yes or no. instead, he decides to pick you up where you're standing, getting you to wrap your arms around his neck in surprise. the gravel shifts under his feet as he turns to bring you to your set up—a blanket very carefully laid and held down on the corners, with gifts you had bought weeks ago ready to open. "ask me afterward."

also i looked up polish dishes last night while thinking abt this and got hungry. why'd i do that at 1am w nothing but cookies on me... BUT THE IDEA IS SOO CUTE omg he looks up some popular places and reads a Lot of reviews beforehand.. the workers are happy to recommend some popular dishes and think your idea is really nice lolol ^^

soft toshi... holding your fork up to feed him and him doing the same for you while chewing... so cute. cute guy. him furrowing his brows as he tries to discern what’s in the dish and throwing ideas back and forth with you… him softly chuckling when you scrunch up your face because you didn’t like the taste of something. he instinctively reaches to move the plate away and slides your glass closer instead. he asks “didn’t like that one?” as if you aren’t already gulping your water down

and he’s genuinely curious about the ingredients while the workers explain afterward !! he listens especially close when they describe the ones you really enjoyed. like he’s not leaving without making a mental list of which dishes were your favourites.

but also i think it would be so cute if there wasn’t a set plan. like the both of you happen to walk past a cozy looking place and you grab his hand to go in. and even if the food doesn't end up spectacular or anything, the fact that this is the first spot you visit together makes it a special place. depending on how good it is, it could either be a cute date spot every couple of months or a regular spot. picking up some drinks and treats to surprise you for dinner kind of thing ;;

his birthday... the idea that you guys become regulars. you go in and mention it's his birthday soon and ask if they have a good desert idea, or if they could do something special. and yeah of course they'll whip something up for this ?? famous volleyball player who just happens to like their local shop ?? who's a little scary but polite and endearingly obviously (in a relative sense) in love with you.

and i'm not saying the place would see a bunch of new customers because ushijima, a guy notorious for the lack of personal posts on his social media, posted about them and you after receiving a special birthday dinner,, but i'm not denying that idea either (ゝω･)

tangent but i rlly do love the idea of u telling toshi to pose for a picture on the hike or putting a flower in his hair for it .. or him with a little party hat on lololol

@devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @idontlikeyourjob @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @kuroaka @vampyrkookie @sunaslay @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist

your tequila lips is my idea of luxury

pairing. mikage reo x gn!reader

genre. fluff & university/college rom :D 

warnings/content. 4.1k+ wc | soccer team captain!reo (giggles) | mentions of alcohol, drinking, and drunken state | public kissing (don’t ask) | minimal proofread | me and my poor attempt of banter

in which: last night left you with three hazy memories — a dare, a kiss, and the name reo mikage

If college has managed to drill one thing into your head, it’s the gospel of abstaining from weekday drinking. After all, who in their right mind willingly marches to class with a pounding headache? Certainly not you.

But if there’s also one thing college didn't prepare you for, that is ignoring that one advice it drilled into you, and the golden rule of never, ever going against your own wisdom. 

If it did, then maybe you wouldn’t find yourself seated at the table of your kitchen dorm, your elbows resting heavily on its surface and your hands cradling your throbbing head, with your fingers pressed against your temples in a feeble attempt to alleviate the pounding sensation that is making you feel like it’s your last day on earth.

And to add a splash of more chaos to the mix, you feel like your headache intensified by tenfold at the absurdity of what your roommate just told you.

“I did fucking what now?”

“You kissed Reo at the party last night! Reo freaking Mikage!”

Yup, it’s definitely your last day on earth.

“ —and we squealed so loud! We never thought you had it in you to pull shit like that!” 

Well, you didn’t either.

“Hold on, talk slowly! I kissed him?!” 

Furrowing your brows, you attempt to process the bombshell your roommate just dropped on you. 

“Don’t tell me you forgot what happened last night!”

To say that your roommate did a poor job of filling you in on what atrocity happened last night is an understatement. The only thing you managed to register from the weirdly sequenced story were two things: kiss and Reo. 

And from there, the memories of last night came rushing back to you. 

Fucking hell.

You are damned, no doubt. Of all people, it had to be Reo Mikage. Are you even allowed to say that name so casually, even in your mind? That name drips gold and glory in every letter. He’s probably the richest guy on campus, the most famous (for sure), and on top of that, he’s the captain of the goddamn soccer team. Talk about a boring and plain college life he’s living. 

And to kiss that said man in a party for a dare? You’re doomed. You’re done for. You did the worst thing imaginable. 

You should’ve known better that nothing good comes out of college parties and dumb drinking games.

You made a lot of questionable decisions in your life, that you admit. But this one probably takes the top spot.

And it all started innocently enough – with a dare. 

The kind of dare that only seems like a great idea after a few too many shots. You had been the reigning champion of beer pong for as long as you could remember, and your friends decided it was high time to knock you down a peg. The stakes were set: a dare for a dare, and you were handed the ultimatum. Win the game or face the consequences.

But as fate would have it, your well-practiced skills crumbled under the pressure, and you found yourself facing the ultimate punishment—eight shots of tequila, back-to-back, in quick succession. 

Under typical circumstances, you could easily handle that quantity, but regular situations don't account for having a crucial presentation the following day. Eight shots? It's a nightmare, considering you've reached your limit.

And so, you found yourself stumbling through the crowd with only one goal in mind: redemption.

Or maybe it was the tequila that whispered that goal into your ear, urging you to prove yourself. It was hard to tell. 

And in that hazy state, your eyes had locked onto a figure that seemed to glow amidst the dim lights of the party. Reo Mikage, a name that resonated through campus like a melody, stood there, his presence magnetic and his smile dangerously alluring.

Without much thought, you approached the poseur table he was located at.

“Are you single?” you asked him the second you got close enough for him to hear. Fortunately, he wasn't surrounded by his usual crowd.

Now, what happened to ‘hello’? To ‘are you having fun?’ That question is too straightforward for a conversation starter, isn't it? 

“Yeah? Yes, I mean.” Reo replied, confusion evident in his tone.

“Okay good, listen.” Stepping closer, you caught him off guard, and he instinctively took a step back. His movement prompted a questioning look from you, tinged with a hint of concern because it was one step, yet he backed away for three. Little did you know, your proximity was affecting him more than the alcohol he'd consumed.

Undeterred and tequila-fueled, you continued. “I really don't want to drink those abominations in liquid form my friends dared me, so may you find it in your good heart to let me kiss the shit out of you so I’m saved.”

What the hell did he just hear? “Kiss the shit out of me…?”

“Yeah.” So, he heard you right. He’s not making it up. Good, he thinks.

“What do I get in return?”

“Lunch? My treat.” 

Did you just offer a multimillionaire heir a lunch and promise it's on you? At this point, you're not drunk — you're certifiably crazy.

“Hmm, sounds good. Alright, please do show me how the shit out of me can be kissed by you.”

In the face of his agreement, you rolled your eyes at his mocking tone. But there was no time for second-guessing; this was your moment.

Grasping the front of his shirt, you tugged him closer. You saw how his eyes widened at what you did before it broke out to a boyish grin. A breath passed, and then — the two of you collided.

In the electrified space between heartbeats, your lips found each other hungrily. His breath mingled with yours, a shared exchange of anticipation as your mouths moved in sync, exploring each other with an urgency that defied logic.

The taste of tequila still lingered, a faint reminder of the daring choice that had led you here. But it was the heat, the fervor, that consumed you both. Your bodies pressed together, the proximity sparking flames of need that danced through your veins.

His fingers found purchase at your waist, the touch igniting a trail of sensation that sent shivers down your spine. Your fingers were tangled in his hair, and a moan rose out of your throat as he drew your bottom lip between his teeth, a delicious tug that blurred the lines between who was kissing whom.

You pulled back from the kiss first, and a protest almost climbed Reo’s throat. But he knew better than to step in unwarranted, instead, he settled with savoring the image of your flushed state. Even in these neon blaring lights, Reo could discern your state with your heavy panting. Was it because of the alcohol? Or him? He hopes it’s the latter.

“That was… fuck. Thank your friends for the dare for me, yeah?”

And that’s how it all ended — with a kiss far from innocent.

Now here you are, nursing a splitting headache as you trudged across campus, textbooks clutched to your chest, trying to shake off the remnants of last night's debauchery. The taste of regret was heavy on your tongue—not just from the hangover, but from the events that led up to it.

In your slightly inebriated mind, the plan made sense. Kiss the hottest guy at the party, and you'd show your friends that you were up to the challenge. It was akin to hitting two birds with one stone: escaping the impending liquor onslaught and salvaging your pride. 

At the time, it sounded good – sounded like a winning strategy. But now? You want to bang your head against the wall for even thinking it made sense. And you’d do it if it weren’t for your phone buzzing in your pocket interrupting your self-loathing.

Last night for Reo was enchanting, to say the least. 

It was like a spark in the darkness, an unexpected surge of joy that he found himself smirking at the memory, reliving the sensation of your lips in his.

Last night might have been the spark, but it wasn't where it all began for Reo. 

Before you approached him at the party, he remembered you from freshman year. It was hard not to—especially when he recalled the exact moment. He perfectly remembers how you looked him dead in the eye and quipped,“Why waste your time on that sport if your aim is as off as a blindfolded archer? The goal's over there, genius. Not me.” after his supposed goal went astray and hit you in the back.

Well, he took that personally— word for word. And within a year, he had risen to become the best player on the team.

Now add that memory to the daring kiss you shared last night? There was no way Reo would be forgetting you anytime soon. He was now on a mission to make sure that you remembered him as vividly as he remembered you.

Good thing you owe him lunch, and an even better thing that he spotted you just now on a bench near the field he was on. He chuckled to himself at the coincidence, he wasn’t expecting to see you so soon. 

Reo, with his pragmatic and business-oriented mindset, was perhaps one of the last people on earth to put faith in notions like fate. But maybe he can make an exception to that philosophy if it’s you. 

Because right now, this whole thing felt like a mischievous wink from the cosmos, giving Reo a shot at something he had only dared to imagine. Wasting no more chances, he pulled out his phone.

[Today, 8:32 AM]

Is this Y/N?  This is Reo, by the way.

From his vantage point, he saw you reach for your phone immediately after he hit send. The widening of your eyes and the hint of surprise as you read his message didn't go unnoticed.

Cute. Peering down to his phone, he snorted with laughter at your response.

y/n: No. You’ve got the wrong number. [8:33 AM] Your friend confirmed it’s yours, though :P [8:33 AM] Also, I can see you typing. [8:34 AM]

Your eyes immediately scanned the whole field in search of the possible source of your college life’s impending doom. After a few seconds of looking with furrowed brows and a crinkled nose, there – you saw him, with his head slightly cocked to the side and his arms crossed over his chest, grinning at your display of reaction to his messages.

Your searching eyes transformed into bewilderment the instant he stood up, making his way toward you. Realizing that the two of you couldn’t be seen together under any circumstances to avoid igniting unnecessary gossip, your fingers danced over the screen of your phone, rapidly firing off messages that inundated his notifications.

y/n: what do you need are you trying to approach me stop right there stop walking!!!! everyone's looking i swear to god [8:37 AM]

Your frantic typing, however, seemed to make no impact. As if on a mission, Reo continued walking closer to you with the most annoyingly confident grin on his lips. His gaze was locked onto you, unwavering and undeterred.

Even from the distance that separates you two, you could make out what he was wearing. And you were damn sure, it was the sluttiest piece of clothing a man could wear.

The divine must really have its favorites, it seems. Because while you looked like hell had taken up residence on your head from last night’s festivities, he looked too sinful for a sunny morning in his compression shirt. 

No one should look that damn good at 8 AM—it's practically criminal and a slap in the face to regular college students like you.

As Reo closed the distance between you, you could practically feel the weight of all those curious eyes fixated on the scene. Were they looking at him? You? Or both? The thought alone made you want to sink into the ground and disappear.

“Hi.” 

Hi? You’re hyperventilating from the attention the two of you are getting and he quips a hi? 

“What do you need?” you hissed, trying to keep your voice steady amid the prying gazes of onlookers.

Reo's grin remained stubbornly intact, seemingly oblivious to the audience around you. “I’m here to collect a favor you owe me!” he declared with an enthusiasm that felt almost out of place in this surreal moment.

He can’t be seriously asking you to buy him lunch, right? What does he even eat? A5 Wagyu steak? There’s no way your student budget can afford that.

“I don’t remember owing you anything.”

“Really? I’ll remind you then, you offered to buy me lunch last night before you grabbed my collar and kissed m–”

“Finish that sentence, and lunch is not the only thing you’ll get from me.”

Your threat hung heavy in the air, your words loaded with a blend of annoyance and embarrassment that had settled on your cheeks.

“Is that a threat or a promise?” and yet, ever undeterred from your hostility, Reo's voice took on a smug, teasing tone that matched the twinkle in his eye.

This guy. “You're a bit annoying, don’t you think?”

“No, I don't think I am,” he countered, “And I also don't think that's how you should speak to someone who, and I quote, found it in their good heart to kiss you and save you from eight shots of tequila, though.”

Reo was on a mission, that much was clear. And quoting your exact words from last night seemed to be one of his tactics to ensure you remembered him and that kiss you shared. 

And lucky him, it looks like it’s working like a charm in which the telltale warmth in your cheeks revealed. Unfortunately for you, your simmering frustration combined with a throbbing headache could either launch you into a one-way ticket to expulsion or earn you a potential criminal record.

May the universe and all the saints grant you patience, because the overwhelming urge to wipe that damn grin off his face is slowly overtaking your senses.

You glanced at your watch, calculating whether you had enough time to wrap up your presentation before considering lunch. “Fine. Text me the location,” you conceded, your tone reluctantly agreeable. “I have a presentation to do first. I'll meet you there before noon.”

It might turn out to be a questionable financial decision to let him choose the lunch spot, but you were sticking to your word. You still owed him, after all.

“Sure. Good luck on your presentation. I’m sure you’ll devour the shit out of it.” 

His playful tone, quoting your own words again back at you, made your eyes roll in a mix of annoyance and flustered embarrassment.

Reo, on the other hand, seems like he’s having the time of his life with your reactions.

Someone can’t wait for lunch time, it seems. And clearly, that’s not you but a certain purple-haired.

If anyone were to observe Reo in this moment, they might easily mistake his fidgeting for the anxious prelude to a first Tinder meet up. Of course, that would be utterly absurd, considering he was simply awaiting someone's arrival, who happened to owe him a wholesome meal.

The little bell above the restaurant's entrance jingled, drawing Reo's attention like a magnet. 

His heart skipped a beat when he saw you walk in, much to his surprise. Seemingly fresh and put-together now, you appeared quite different from the disarrayed figure he had spotted on the field earlier. 

Your smile, which now adorned your face as you exchanged pleasantries with the hostess, seemed to hint that your presentation had gone well, and perhaps the remnants of last night’s headache were subsiding.

Casually dressed yet carrying an air of understated confidence, you navigated the room with ease. His eyes followed you as you moved, taking in the subtle sway of your hair, the way your lips curved into polite smiles for familiar faces. He observed this scene unfolding before him, almost as if he were watching a scene from one of those romcom movies.

When your gaze finally settled on him, Reo could feel the heat making its way to his neck that he hoped his collar was hiding well.

The moment you settled into your seat, you wasted no time in addressing the metaphorical elephant in the room. “I’m sorry I put you in that position last night,” you blurted out.

Conversation starters were not your strong suit, Reo noted with an inward chuckle. Last night's shameless question was understandable, given the influence of alcohol, but in the clear light of day, your choice of conversation openers left much to be desired.

“It’s fine,” he replied with a sidelong glance, his lips curling into a faint smile of reassurance. He raised his left hand to catch the waiter's attention, subtly signaling for the menu. “Glad it was me, actually,” he mumbled more to himself than to you, his own unfiltered thought taking him by surprise.

“What?”

“What?”

Before you could even attempt to untangle the verbal knot, the waiter arrived with the menus, saving Reo from any further explanations. He observed as the waiter acknowledged you, a smile exchanged between you two. It seemed you were a regular here, and he found himself intrigued by yet another layer of your personality.

“You know him?” Reo inquired, nodding toward the departing waiter.

“Oh, I'm a regular here. It's my favorite place,” you explained with a hint of fondness.

“What are the chances? It's mine too.” 

Your eyes narrowed in playful disbelief, seemingly not buying the idea of someone like Reo enjoying a meal at a diner like this. “You?”

You admit you were surprised when he texted you of this place being his choice of dining. You were totally gearing up for him to suggest some fancy French or Italian joint where you'd need to take out a loan just to cover the bill. After all, people like him should be dining on caviar and foie gras. But then he texted you this choice, and maybe he's more down-to-earth than you thought. Or maybe he just knows where the good food is. It's hard to believe either, though.

Challenged, Reo insisted, “Yes. Me.”

“Alright, what are you having then? I’m ordering their famous pesto pasta—surely you know what that is, right?” you teased, a playful smile tugging at your lips. 

“Of course, I do.” Reo was basically lying through his teeth, at this point. But he couldn’t back down from his claim. And what? Admit that it's his first time here and the only reason he chose this was because he often sees you eating here? Not a chance.

“Why don’t you order for us then?”

With no turning back, he quipped, “Sure thing,” before signaling for a server. He sensed your amused gaze on him, and a hint of a smile tugging at your lips.

“We’ll have two orders of your pesto pasta, please.”

“Uhm sir, we don’t serve pasta here.”

You let out a laugh, and Reo swears he could almost hear the birds chirping in the background.

Maybe a bit of embarrassment was a fair trade for that sound, he mused.

Lunch, for you, was not so bad and not quite the disaster you initially imagined.

Not until, out of nowhere, Reo brought up your embarrassing escapade from last night, “Was it because of that incident in freshman year that you approached me last night?”

“Freshman year?” you echoed, momentarily thrown off track. “Did we ever have a class together? Because I genuinely can't picture myself willingly signing up for economics or any finance-related course.”

“No, we didn't share any classes. And what's wrong with those courses? They're actually quite enjoyable.”

Yeah, if your idea of fun is spending hours deciphering graphs and balancing budgets. Enjoyable if you think that analyzing the stock market is the pinnacle of excitement.

“I don’t remember you from freshman year, though.” you admitted.

Reo's disbelief was palpable as he leaned back in his chair, a smug grin settling in. “You told me I suck at soccer a couple of years ago. Ring any bells? It was on the field.”

“I did fucking what now again?” You briefly questioned your past choices – or the lack of recollection thereof. Were you perpetually in a tipsy daze during your time at university? How could you miss every brash choice you made? Your brazen mouth could indeed get you into unforeseen trouble one day, that much is very clear.

“And here I was, thinking you kissed me on that dare as payback for me accidentally hitting you with a soccer ball.” Reo chuckled at your surprise, leaning back further.

“No,” you retorted, shaking your head slightly. “I did it because the dare was to kiss someone we found hot at the party.”

Oh. “So you think I’m hot?”

“My drunk self sure did.”

“Well, and what does your sober self think now?”

Clearly, this banter was a game both of you were more than willing to play. With a pointed gaze, you focused on Reo, a slow grin tugging at your lips. The effect on Reo was almost instantaneous—his throat cleared awkwardly, and his confident grin faltering.

“My sober self thinks my drunk self is absolutely right.” 

You infused the word ‘absolutely’ with a nonchalant drawl, noting the flush creeping up Reo’s cheeks. His composure seemed to waver, and he hastily reached for his drink, downing it within seconds. 

Satisfied that you managed to wipe his confident grin, you pressed on, “Are you blushing?”

“No,” Reo responded a bit too quickly, his voice a tad higher than usual. “It’s a bit hot in here.”

“Sure, whatever you say.” You chuckled at his flimsy excuse, your eyes catching the telltale shade of red tinting his ears and neck. Reo is easy to fluster as it is for him to do so, you noted. “Let’s get out of here, let me just pay.” 

Just as you were about to signal a waiter, Reo halted you with his words, “It’s done.”

“Done?”

“I gave them my card before you arrived.”

What the fuck. “But the favor…”

Reo's smirk reappeared, a gleam of triumph in those amethyst orbs. “Looks like you still owe me a date.”

“A lunch,” you corrected him, but Reo shrugged nonchalantly, a playful ‘same thing’ expression on his face.

“Sure, whatever you say,” he mimicked your tone, “Let me walk you to your next class.” He offered, rising from his seat as you did.

“Thank you, but absolutely no.”

“Why not?” 

Reo must be really oblivious to his fame, it seems. “Just because. Also, don’t you have practice?”

“I do, but ten more minutes with you sounds better.” 

You rolled your eyes at his attempt to charm you. “Are you slacking off, captain? Looks like my freshman self was right about your soccer skills after all.”

“I’m not slacking off, I just know my priorities.” and there it was again, that grin and that stare. Whether it was the tequila or just him, Reo really had a way of pulling you into his orbit.

Bashful, and at a loss for better retorts, you looked away. “Next time.”

“So there’s a next time, then?” he innocently asks, clearly fishing for another affirmation.

“Next time, I’m paying.” 

“Got that.” Reo mindlessly agreed. He’s just happy there’s a next time, honestly. “Let me walk you out, at least.”

Both of you left the restaurant, walking side by side in companionable silence. After a few moments, you decided to break the quietude that had settled between you.

“I guess we're parting ways here,” you remarked, your voice carrying a hint of finality.

Reo’s disappointment was evident, though he tried to mask it. “Sure. Thank you for the meal.”

A soft chuckle escaped your lips. “What are you thanking me for? You paid for it.”

“Let me rephrase it then, thank you for introducing me to this place. I’ve clearly been missing out,” he beams.

“You're welcome, Mr. Fine Dining.”

As you walked a few steps ahead of Reo, you turned your head to look back at him, seemingly remembering something to tell him. “Oh, by the way,” you start, a teasing smile making its way to your lips, “I’m glad it was you too.”

With that, you took one last glance at his starstruck expression before parting ways, leaving him with a lingering smile.

Maybe something good does come out of stupid college parties and dumb drinking games – in the form of someone with enchanting smiles and magnetic purple eyes, that is.

And now, for sure, with or without the tequila haze, there’s not a single chance you’re forgetting Reo Mikage anytime soon. 

note. he makes me ill ( i love him very much and this is purely self-indulgent because i need him like air).

when satan falls in love

content + warnings: satan x reader, satan's in his demon form and his tail is Not Cooperating, fluff // [masterlist]

word count: ~1.4k

satan's feet drag along the floor as he journeys from the front door to his safe haven. he stopped hiding his demon form the moment he trudged through the door-- now his heavy footsteps and the ominous drag of his tail against the ground are what tell people to stay away. the barbs catch a little along the wood floors. lucifer will bitch at him again when he notices, but right now satan isn't the least bit worried about his older brother's opinions.

the door to his room shuts with a loud thunk! the bookcases shudder with effort, the disorganized book stacks groaning with a quiet threat of toppling over. the noise echoes to his high ceilings, then dies amongst poetic words and fantastical novels.

he collapses on his bed and groans testily. his tail flicks about, impatient, looking for things to destroy-- he knows if he gives into his destructive urges he'll only regret it later. he's lost countless tomes to a fit of rage, spent hours cleaning up his messes only to piss himself off more.

satan rolls over and closes his eyes, practicing his breathing exercises to calm himself down. what had him worked up this much, anyways?

lots of things. his brothers had been especially rowdy today, starting his day off with an unusually irritating breakfast. then he had a surprise quiz early in the day. at lunch, you were whisked away by lord diavolo for some bullshit reason or another. he can still picture the apologetic look on your face, waving over your shoulder with a slight frown as you had to abandon him in favor of your responsibilities. pair that with a few hellish classes and another surprise student council meeting, and you'll understand why satan is particularly testy today.

damn. after all this time, he'd grown much better at making sure he could handle massive slights that pissed him off. it's the stacking of little things on top of each other that presses his buttons.

in truth, he'd probably be better if he'd seen more of you lately. lunch just seemed to be a tipping point in the drought of your love. how long has it been since he's been able curl up with you at his side? since he's gotten a moment to have a proper date with you? the tangled emotions only make his blood boil more.

his emerald eyes catch something unfamiliar at the edge of his vision. he knows the layout of his room top to bottom-- any minor changes to his disorganization are noted fairly quickly, regardless of what others might think.

there's an envelope peaking out of a nearby bookshelf. it's subtle, but noticeable enough when he believes he was intended to find it. his first instinct is to be angry. who the fuck thought they were entitled to access his room when he was gone?

satan rises from his bed and angrily snatches the envelope from its hiding spot. he's ready to rip it in half in a destructive fit of rage when he spots your handwriting on the front. the fire inside of him settles to embers as his eyes follow the curl of your letters as you wrote his name. he could spot that handwriting anywhere. the "s" in his name swoops with grandeur, like you're going out of your way to be fancy, and he can't help but smile a little. he opens the letter carefully-- there's no way he won't keep whatever this is, all because it came from you-- and begins to read your familiar scrawl across a nice piece of stationary.

my beloved satan,

i've missed you! that's odd to say considering we live together, but... life seems to find new ways every day to keep us apart. it's weird to look back on my day and realize i've barely seen you. we barely get a peaceful lunch together anymore! there's always someone joining us or pulling one of us away before we can settle... i don't mean to sound clingy, but i don't think it's bad to want to have some alone with your boyfriend!

as i'm writing this, i'm cooped up in diavolo's office during a little break in some meetings. there's some trouble with some of their human world contacts, so i've been brought in to act as a "bridge" between the two. that apparently means sitting through lots of boring, professional talks and trying to pretend like i'm not about to fall asleep. barbatos made some really nice tea, though, and that's been my saving grace so far.

i can't wait until we find some alone time again. i've never found something more peaceful than cuddling up to you while you're reading and listening to you breathe. if i rest my hand on your chest, i can hear your steady heartbeat, too. you always tease me for being so sleepy and run your hand along my back, but who wouldn't fall asleep under those conditions? i just feel so at peace when i'm with you. nobody else can make me feel so safe and cared for. even when we're not together, knowing you're there for me makes each day better.

was it weird of me to write this as a letter? i hope not. you hear about people writing their lovers romantic love letters in the movies and books. i thought i'd give it a try. it's nice to have a physical reminder of someone's feelings for you. ticket stubs and stuffed animals are nice, but i wanted to give you something that illustrates my feelings more clearly. i adore you. you mean the world to me. i feel like it's harder to say things like that when you look at me, but here in the letter i'll say it as many times as i want to. you are my best friend, satan, and i'm glad to have you as my partner.

i hope this letter makes you smile. i'm planning on hiding it in your room, so hopefully it'll take you a bit to find it.

yours always,

mc

so much for him waiting to find the letter.

in the quiet of his room, devoid of all distraction except the gentle whir of the air leaving a nearby vent, satan realizes he's in love with you.

his body freezes. for these past few weeks, he's intellectualized his feelings for you-- it's not love, but adoration. infatuation. lust, even. but no. he can feel the realization settling on his shoulders like a warm blanket fresh from the dryer.

when he was created, all satan would feel was reckless, horrifying, world-ending rage. it consumed him like a wildfire during a dry season, devouring any part of him that might be redeemable with the crackle of wild grass and the unforgiving heat. but meeting you changed him. his smiles were no longer plastic, but easy and natural. his irritation often simmered in his chest instead of exploding from his lips as harsh words, now just huffs and sharp glances.

you made him better. he knows now there's more to him than wrath. every single positive change in his life ever since you came to the devildom was driven by you.

he takes a deep breath to calm himself. instead of wrath, he's fighting the flush creeping up the back his neck. he reads the letter again, then again, each time sparking something in his stomach that he had to push down.

love. so this is what it feels like, huh?

he's read his fair share of sappy stories, but they all pale in comparison to the real thing. it's unsettling for him to be bursting with positive emotion, but here he is. flushed, stiff, listening to the silence as his heartbeat pounds in his ears. it takes him too long to realize that his tail was swishing behind him, thumping against a nearby chair enthusiastically. that only embarrasses him more-- is he really so in love with you that he's wagging his tail like a dog?

originally, he thought to corner you right now and show you just how much he appreciates the letter. but with his body acting out like this...

satan takes a seat his desk, digging around until he finds some suitable stationary, a writing feather (pretentious, he knows, but he can't ignore the urge to be so traditional), and an inkwell. if you were exchanging letters to express your feelings, now, then expect him to write you the best damn love letter you've ever seen.

taglist for this series: @deepseafragments // @darkflowerav // @annoying-and-upset // @katerinaval // @lurkingsnails // @chirikoheina // @all-mights-wife // @notareum

I don't know how I feel about this smut right here, but I spent some time writing it so I might as well post it, right?

I'm really obsessed with all of their demon forms. I love the horns, the wings, the tails, everything. There is just something about them that I find soooo hot. Does this make me a monster fucker? I honestly don't know, someone please tell me. I feel like they're still mostly human-like, so I don't think it counts?

Anyway, the point here is that I wanted to write some scenes where it's the first time they have sex with MC in their demon form. I imagine that the demon parts are extra sensitive in this particular situation.

Again, I'm not sure this is very good, but here it is anyway lol. Just when I think I'm getting more confident about writing smut, I question it again. Ahhh the woes of being a writer.

Lucifer x GN!MC - NSFW MDNI

Note: MC's genitals are not described, once again I tried to keep it gender neutral. Established relationship, not the first time they're having sex, just the first time in demon form lol.

Warnings: demon form (obviously), penetrative sex (reader receiving), biting (but no blood)

Lucifer's bedroom was lit by the soft orange glow of candlelight, shadows playing against the walls, the air warm. You sat on the soft silk sheets of his bed, your clothes long discarded back by the door.

Lucifer himself sat on the edge of the bed with his back to you, waiting. You ran your hands up the muscles of his back, letting one go all the way into his hair, fingertips brushing against the gray edges.

"Show me," you said, your voice hushed.

Obediently, Lucifer shifted into demon form. You watched as the horns emerged and the two sets of wings unfurled before you.

You couldn't help sucking in a breath. You had never been this close to them before.

The black glossy feathers shimmered in the light, trembling slightly. You slowly traced your fingers downward, branching them out over the tops of his wings, feeling the bone structure beneath the feathers. Tenderly, carefully, you let your fingers run along the feathered edges, overcome by just how soft they were.

You let out a little sigh. "Stunning."

Lucifer twisted around to look at you and you saw the blush that was spreading across his cheeks. He frowned at you. "Are you quite finished, MC?"

You smiled. "Absolutely not."

He looked like he was about to protest, but he stopped when you knelt over him, straddling his lap. You ran your fingers along his horns next, delicately feeling out the pattern of the ridges. He sucked in a breath beneath you.

You looked down at him for a moment. His eyes were closed, the frown still in place, the blush as bright as ever.

You leaned forward just a little more and kissed one of his horns.

His hands grabbed your waist and he pulled you into him, pressing his face against your chest. You could feel him trembling against you. You saw the way his feathers shook slightly as his wings closed in around you.

And then you felt his lips on your chest, hot and heavy. "Please," he practically moaned against you.

You had anticipated that his horns and wings would be sensitive, but you had not expected him to react quite like this. It sent a thrill through you.

You took the entire tip of one of his horns into your mouth. He squeezed you and gasped lightly against your skin. You could feel his erection pressing against your thigh.

You pulled away slightly, lips still pressed to the cool surface of his horn. "Please…?"

His hands couldn't stay still, gripping your hips one moment and running up your back the next. You could feel the tips of his feathers brushing your shoulders.

"You tease me at your peril," he said, his voice so low it was practically a growl.

You could tell he was getting impatient, that you were riling him up every time you touched his horns or brushed against his feathers. His entire body was tensed beneath you, like he was doing everything he could to keep himself restrained.

There were a lot of things you could have said then, but you decided your mouth was better used elsewhere. You pressed a line of kisses along his horn before leaning back just enough to set your lips upon the black diamond on his forehead.

It was as though you had pressed a switch by doing this. He lifted you off his lap so abruptly, you had to fling your arms around his shoulders to balance yourself.

Moments later, you found yourself sprawled back on the bed with Lucifer hovering above you, his wings still tucked around you slightly, creating a sort of canopy around you both.

Lucifer lowered himself on top of you, your bodies flush together, as he kissed down your neck. The heat flooded you, every single spot where your skin touched his felt like it was on fire. You sucked in a breath and reached up, gripping his horns in your hands because you just wanted to hold on and you couldn't resist touching them again.

Lucifer rumbled low in his throat, one of his hands running up and down your side, his mouth pausing on its way down your neck. "MC…"

You let your hands slide down his horns, to grip his face and make him look up at you. You shifted beneath him, opening your legs and wrapping them around him, locking your ankles behind his back.

You pulled his head forward just enough so you could kiss the black diamond on his forehead again. His hand squeezed your hip so hard it was almost painful and the sweet moan that fell from him made the desire already pooling in your stomach flare with heat.

"Lucifer," you whispered, your lips still pressed against him. You let go of his face, reaching up to brush your fingertips down the top set of wings, the edges of which were still tucked beneath your back.

Lucifer responded by sinking his cock into you, slowly and deliberately. Your body arched beneath him, setting free his pinned wings which fanned out in a glorious display of glossy black above you.

He was so beautiful like this, eyes half closed, cheeks covered in a blush of passion, wings spread, horns visible, the black diamond glistening slightly from the wetness of your kiss. He was already lost in your heat as he so softly moaned your name.

You both stayed that way for a brief moment, taking in the feel of each other. You, mesmerized by his demon form, him, overwhelmed by the love in your eyes.

Lucifer's first thrust was so slow it made you crazy, but you couldn't help letting out a little gasp at how good it felt. Your hands clutched at his shoulders just behind his wings, your fingers barely brushing their edges.

Your legs tightened around Lucifer as he increased his pace significantly and the way his cock felt inside you made you cry out, unable to hold your voice back. You couldn't even form words, only making incoherent noises between gasping breaths. Your heart was thudding fast, your body heating up, a layer of sweat forming at your back.

Lucifer was focused on you, his lips on the hollow of your throat, his teeth brushing lightly against your skin.

Your reactions only prompted him to go harder and faster, to bite down on your shoulder just enough to leave a mark, but not enough to draw blood. You felt the extra sharpness of his fangs. You reached up for his horns again, grasping them as he continued to thrust into you, hitting your sweetest spot every single time. You could feel the pleasure building up, so close, you were so close.

Lucifer leaned down even more, pressing himself against you and whispered in your ear, "You are mine."

Your hands slid down to hold his face again, pressing your forehead to his, holding on as your body jolted with every single thrust. You couldn't say anything back to him even if you wanted to, the sensations rolling through your body were too distracting. Even if you could, you would only agree with him.

You cried out his name as you came hard on his cock, squeezing him with every part of your body.

Lucifer growled, not at all slowing his pace, and you felt yourself careening toward over stimulation. It was so good, but you could barely think. All you managed to do was pull his head down again so you could put your mouth on his diamond one last time.

Lucifer moaned your name out low and heavy as he finally came inside you, the heat of his cum filling you up, his wings rustling around you as they shivered with the rest of him.

For a few moments, you didn't move at all, your chest heaving as you pulled in heavy breaths. You were still holding Lucifer's face and you smiled up at him before letting your hands run across his wings again.

Lucifer was flushed already, but you could still tell that he was blushing even more from the way you touched his feathers. You also knew he couldn't move away from you while your legs stayed locked around him. He was trapped there as you leaned forward again, kissing his head, kissing his horns, kissing the edge of the top set of his wings.

You soon learned that Lucifer would only put up with so much of these gentle touches before he decided to make you scream his name again.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!