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There was never any telling what each day would bring. Some days you woke up with a song in your heart and on your tongue, ready to face the world and whatever challenges it threw at you. Other days were far more neutral. Get up, stumble around trying to wake up, get dressed and ready for the day, and then go through your typical routines and responsibilities. Both of those kinds of days were tolerable - welcome even because they didn’t make you feel like you did now.
Just as there were days when the world was your oyster and nothing could go wrong, there were days from the very beginning when everything was wrong. You woke, groggy and lethargic, hardly wanting to leave the comfort of your bed. Any efforts seemed pointless and you wondered why you bothered trying to get anything done at all. The slightest thing, whether a random negative thought or something that you misconstrued as a catty insult weighed on you, pushing you to the point of tears.
It didn’t stop just at how the world made you feel, no. On days where everything was dismal and hopeless, even you brought yourself down. Standing looking at yourself in the mirror after finally dragging yourself out of bed you couldn’t think of one possibly positive thing about yourself. All that came was a barrage of negativity. Your weight, your hair, your personality, your everything. None of it was right and surely everyone around you knew that, no matter what pretty words they tried to hide it behind.
You swallowed a thick lump in your throat, trying to push back the tears welling up in the corners of your eyes at the mere thought that no one really liked you. It was all just an act of acceptance and tolerance. You may as well keep yourself sequestered away for the weekend. “Not like anyone would really miss me,’ you convinced yourself, heaving a sigh as you turned away from your reflection.
You climbed back into your bed, tugging the blankets around you tightly, curling into them until your face was buried, too. The tears that had been burning your eyes leaked out, dark stains on the fabric and you struggled again to force down the lump rising in your throat.
A buzzing from your D.D.D. drew your attention from your self-loathing haze eventually - you weren’t sure how much later. You tried to ignore it, but after a few minutes came another buzz and then a third. Taking another deep, sighing breath, you fumbled for the device and held it up, lethargically tapping and swiping.
Asmodeus X:XX PM: Are you still sleeping?
Asmodeus X.XX PM: Hello? Did you forget about me?
The third message was just a sad-looking sticker. You felt your heart sink in your chest and guilt rise in its place. You had completely forgotten about your plans to go out shopping with Asmodeus that day. But the guilt did nothing to push away your desire to burrow back into your bed and hide away from everyone. You worried your lip, trying to decide if you should make some excuse or just ignore it and pretend to still be sleeping.
You ended up deciding on the later, silencing the vibrations of your D.D.D. and turning the display off before tossing it aside with a ‘thunk’. You weren’t up to dealing with anyone. You would apologize to Asmo later when you were feeling better. Or at least, that was the plan in mind.
Several minutes later - maybe longer, you weren’t counting - the low rhythm of footsteps came to you from the hall. They stopped, followed by a loud rapping on your door. Through the door, you heard Asmodeus call your name, his tone questioning. “I’m coming in! You can’t sleep the day away like Belphie, you know! We’ve got shopping to do!” He called.
True to his words, he flung the door open before stepping in. You tried your hardest to just look like a motionless lump, hoping maybe he’d change his mind and leave you be. But you weren’t quite so lucky. After a second, you heard his footsteps come closer and a weight made the bed dip. “Come on, I’m staying here until you get out of bed! Unless you want me to join you under there~,” Asmodeus threatened cheerfully. He didn’t seem as offended as you imagined he would have been about you forgetting your plans.
With a long-suffering sigh, you lifted your face from the blankets and turned to peek at Asmo, not considering how you might look. “Sorry, Asmo, I’m, uh, I’m not feeling very good. It’s probably better if I sleep,” you tried to excuse yourself.
Immediately you spotted the change in Asmodeus’ demeanor when he spied your tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes. “You’ve been crying. What’s wrong, my dear? What happened? Are you sad you forgot about me?” He asked. He teased with his last sentence, but you could hear the concern in his tone.
It was strange seeing Asmodeus not absorbed in himself and it never surprised you when it happened. “It’s nothing, Asmo, I just-” You began, trying to devise an excuse for why you had been crying. But the empathy in his pale eyes made you stop short.
Asmo leaned in, stroking one teary cheek with his thumb gently. “It’s alright, love, you can tell me,” he hummed, voice a soothing purr.
You drew in another deep breath, debating sharing your worries with him. The nagging voice in your head insisted he didn’t really care, that he was only playing the part of caring and if you told him he would laugh at you. But his soft touch and the genuine look in his eyes made you push that voice away. All the words tumbled out of your mouth at once. About the hopelessness, the emotional uncertainty, and your thoughts that you were ugly, both in looks and personality, and no one actually liked you.
The demon listened thoughtfully, quietly, the entire time, his eyes trained on you as you spoke. The quiver in your voice as you tried to speak around the lump in your throat and more tears brimming in your eyes drew a wider look of concern over his face and made his chest squeeze painfully. It hurt him to hear you talk about yourself so poorly, the one person he loved more than he loved himself. It hurt to see you in such self-inflicted suffering. He was determined to do something to help change that.
When you finished speaking, you hid your face in the blankets again to cover the fresh wave of tears and the embarrassment at spilling your guts to Asmo. Surely the laughing was going to come any second. He was going to tell you how stupid you were being, or worse yet, just leave and confirm your fears. The monsters in your mind made it hard to believe otherwise.
When Asmodeus leaned in further, wrapping his arms around you and your bundle of blankets, however, it was the last thing you expected. “Oh, darling, you’ve got it all wrong. Of course, we like you! Especially me!” He spoke quietly into your ear, his concern bleeding into his voice. “And you’re NOT ugly! Of all people, I would know! I have the best taste, my dear,” he tried to reassure you.
You turned back from your makeshift cocoon and gave Asmo another teary-eyed look. He reached toward you, brushing away some of the tears clinging to your cheeks. “Change of plans, alright? I know just what you need.”
He bent down, giving you a chaste kiss on top of your head, before coaxing you into a seated position and slowly stealing your blanket away. You wanted to fight him and tug it back, to go back to wallowing, but you didn’t have the energy. His words had made you feel the barest bit better, but your mood still hung heavy and dark. You weren’t sure if what he had in mind would help. ‘But what could it hurt?’ Insisted a new, even smaller voice in the reaches of your mind.
Asmodeus wasn’t the most compassionate or nurturing of demons, but he did know a little bit about making someone feel special - even if the majority of the time that someone was himself. He felt confident though that he knew the recipe to cheer up and make you feel better about yourself. At the very least, he could reassure you that even if no one else cared, he did.
He had managed to drag you out of bed and lead you towards the bathroom. The first step to feeling better was washing away all those tears. He reached into the shower, turning knobs and dials until the water fell at just the right pressure and temperature. “I’ll be right back, my dear. I need to go fetch a couple of things. Go ahead and get ready and I’ll be back to join you in just a minute,” he told you.
When you heard the bedroom door close with a snap, you started stripping, throwing your pajamas in a crumpled heap on the floor along with your underwear. You caught sight of your reflection in the bathroom mirror again and the wave of self-consciousness from before threatened to roll over you again. You snapped your head away from it, focusing back on the steaming stream of water.
By the time you had come out of your reverie, you heard the door creak open and close once more, Asmodeus soon entering the bathroom afterward. You turned away and made to shield yourself with your arms, though out of self-consciousness rather than shame for your nudity. You missed the concerned crease of his brow as he set down several brightly colored toiletries on the counter, walking over to you.
He wrapped his arms around you from behind and hugged you tight, a gesture that was surprisingly innocent despite your nakedness and the one it came from. He rested his head on your shoulder and you felt a few stray strands of hair tickle your neck. “You’re absolutely beautiful, head to toe,” he reassured you. “They’re all mad about you, you know. Me, too,” Asmodeus continued, his tone soft and warm.
You relaxed a little in his embrace, a shuddering breath rattling you as some of the ugliness inside your head was drowned out by his sweet words. His voice was too genuine to be an act, you were sure of it. It didn’t dissuade all of your doubts or completely strip away the gloom, but it began to cut through it. You didn’t answer him, only nodded to confirm that you were listening.
Asmodeus smiled warmly, another gesture to make your misery wain. “Let’s get in before the water gets cold,” he offered, letting you go to peel away his clothes and retrieve the toiletries on the counter.
With another small nod, you stepped into the hot spray, the balmy water making goosebumps course over you before settling. Another deep breath, taken as the stream from the showerhead enveloped you, the beads of water rolling comfortingly along your skin like fleeting, warm fingertips. You let out the breath you had taken in as a sigh. “You’ll feel better in no time, love, I promise~,” Asmodeus chirruped as he stepped into the shower behind you, arranging the various bottles and loofahs on a shower shelf.
Eyed closed and letting the heat of the water take you away, you couldn’t help but jump at the sudden touch of Asmodeus’ fingers on your skin, gingerly brushing along your neck and shoulders, massaging gently. “Just let me take care of you, my dear,” he hummed. There was no lewd intent to his touch, it was simply there to try and lull you further into the tranquility he hoped the shower could begin.
He reached for one of the bottles, snapping the cap open and squeezing a dollop of the pale, pinkish liquid into his palm. The scent of something fruity and woodsy filled the shower, accented by the hot, heavy scent of the steam. Replacing the bottle, he scooped a bit of it into his other hand and moved them to your hair, massaging it into a foamy lather. You couldn’t deny his nails prickling gently at your scalp was divine. Combined with the soothing heat of the water and the warmth of his body it was putting you into a pleasant stupor.
The voices weren’t screaming so loud past the rhythmic tap of the water, nor could you discern any tears from the droplets anymore. Beyond the pitter-patter of the shower, Asmodeus’ voice was clear and strong and full of affection. He whispered small praises in your ear, insisting that you were special and perfect and anyone who argued otherwise was crazy. He sounded so confident in his words, it was getting harder to listen to the self-doubt. Though it still wouldn’t be fully defeated.
Rinsing the foam of the shampoo from your hair just as lovingly as he had applied it, Asmodeus moved on to adding a generous amount of body wash to a loofah. It lacked the woodsy smell of the shampoo, more like the smell of fresh strawberries on a sunny spring day. As he started to scrub your skin tenderly with the loofah, you found your voice finally to protest, despite the chastity he had displayed thus far. “I-I can scrub my body myself, Asmo,” you insisted, trying to grab the loofah from him.
He chuckled but allowed you to take it from him. Your face felt hotter than before and you hoped he would just chalk it up to the hot water. “Okay, but at least let me wash your back for you!” He proposed, a charming smile still quirking his full lips.
“Sure,” you murmured, turning away as you scrubbed at yourself with the loofah.
You still felt the pall of negativity hanging in the back of your mind, a looming dark cloud that refused to be banished. But Asmodeus’ sweet words and the comforting sensation of the water and his touch were doing their best to win-out and the world felt a little less hopeless. You even smiled slightly as you returned the loofah to him so he could help you finish washing up.
When both of you were clean and fruit-scented and the water began to run cool, Asmodeus reached and twisted off the flow of water, leaving the bathroom quiet. He offered you a towel from the rack beside the shower, which you took gladly and began to dry yourself. He did the same, eventually tucking the towel about his waist and stepping out onto the tile.
You followed, wrapping yourself snuggly in the towel. You gratefully noted the mirror’s reflection had fogged over from the steam, unable to reawaken the negative thoughts from before. “Hold this for me for a minute, love?” You heard Asmodeus ask, turning toward him only to have a comb thrust at you.
You took it, wondering for a moment why he couldn’t just carry it. Your train of thought was broken as he bent forward, tucking one arm under your legs and the other around your back before lifting you off your feet. You almost dropped the comb in surprise, instinctively wrapping one arm around Asmodeus’ neck and clinging to it for dear life. “You could warn me next time…” you scolded, feeling your face heat again, without the excuse of the water this time.
“But then I wouldn’t get to see that cute look!” He argued playfully, carrying you out into your bedroom.
You rolled your eyes half-heartedly but didn’t berate him more, forgiving him for the sudden pounding of your heart and blaming it on the surprise and not the way he was holding you so close. You found yourself suddenly thankful for his body heat as the much cooler air of the bedroom greeted you and couldn’t help but cling a bit tighter to his chest.
He sat down on the edge of your bed and set you down sideways on his lap, both still covered by your towels. You hastily made to stand, but Asmodeus coaxed you to remain seated. “I’m not done with you yet, my dear. Relax.” He announced with a tinkling chuckle. He bent forward, pressing several affectionate kisses to your cheek. He took back the comb, dragging his fingers through your wet hair and working away a few damp tangles.
He began working through your hair with the comb, his touch even more gentle when he encountered a snag, using his fingers to help work them out. A pleasant shiver rolled through you at the sensation, driving out some of the chill of the room. Asmodeus peppered in several more kisses through the process of combing out your wet hair, on your jaw, cheeks, and neck. They were mostly gentle, but here and there was a bit more sensuality in their touch.
When he deemed your hair thoroughly combed, he set the comb aside, trailing a light hand over the curve of your neck and shoulder. You shifted in his lap, half turning to face him. The same genuine look of affection and admiration glimmered there, though a telltale swirl of desire had joined it. The sight made your breath catch in your throat, the nasty voices in your head pushed deeper from your conscious mind.
“You really are so lovely,” Asmodeus breathed, cupping your face with one hand. “So cute with all those tears gone,” he continued, his face looming closer. So close his breath washed hotly over your lips.
Your eyes fluttered closed when his’ lips met yours in a kiss that was sensual and slow. They molded against yours, alighting a warm, tingling feeling in your chest and along your skin. The passion in his kiss was undeniable and you sighed serenely into it.
For what felt like a long time, the kiss was soft and sinless, Asmodeus lulling you slowly into a peaceful state with the gentle push and pull of his lips. Eventually, his tongue trailed and tapped lightly against your lips. You granted him the entrance he desired and his tongue swept yours up instantly, massaging it lovingly and pulling you further into the moment.
Sometime during your languid make-out session, your world had turned. When the kiss was broken, you found yourself lying on your back on the blankets, Asmo was propped up on his knees and an elbow above you. The thumb of his hand smoothed gentle circles over your cheek and jaw and his eyes were half-lidded and heavy.
Your towel had come undone and partly fallen away, leaving your chest half bare to his pale eyes. With a glance down along his body, you noticed his towel remained securely about his hips, though something strained against the cloth considerably, creating a sizeable bulge. Your eyes jumped back up to Asmodeus’ face, your face burning once again. His charming smile met you, a touch of playful mischief touching it. He had caught your wandering eyes instantly and you looked away, embarrassed.
Sliding down from his propped position until his body was splayed across yours, Asmodeus inched forward, peppering your neck with light kisses until he reached the shell of your ear. “You make it so hard to control myself,” he started, lips ghosting over your ear. “Can I let go, my dear? Will you let me give you all of my love?”
His words and the hard press of his body made your heart race so much faster than before and a comfortable heat throb between your thighs. When you opened your mouth to speak, at first it was gibberish, utter nonsense and you snapped your lips shut, trying to compose yourself. “I-yes, Asmo,” you finally managed to tell him, even those words hard to come by.
With a reassuring smile, he lifted himself just enough to peel away your towels. Despite the warmth that had spread through you, his body on yours felt so much warmer. Asmodeus dipped his mouth to yours again in another passionate kiss. He replaced his hands, moving them to linger over your breasts, kneading the soft mounds and gently rolling the pert nipples there between his fingers.
You groaned, throwing your arms around his neck and shoulders and tangling one in his hair. He rolled his hips smoothly into yours and you could feel all of his need heavy against your thigh, eager and ready. He repeated the motion and you couldn’t help but mewl into the kiss as his length stroked between your legs, brushing your sensitive nub. Asmodeus parted from the kiss with a third gentle buck to hear the sweet sound emerge from your lips, gazing down at you appreciatively. “Aa, Asmo,” you moaned, your voice breathy.
He continued to tease you gently, grinding softly against you and tormenting you with feverish kisses, on your lips and your skin, wherever his mouth could reach. Some of them seethed with his passion, wet and open-mouthed, yet others, like those across your cheeks and your brow, were considerably slower, sweeter.
He didn’t seem content to just kiss your face or shoulders, eventually gliding down your body. He continued to kiss your skin as he went, a mix of hot, feverish pecks and butterfly kisses that twisted your stomach into knots and filled it with heat. His kisses reached your thighs and you couldn’t help but flinch at the soft touch of them, as well as his fingertips when they joined his mouth. Had you always been so ticklish and sensitive there? Or was the moment just making you feel hypersensitive? You weren’t sure and you weren’t keen to think more on the matter.
“Sorry, it tickles,” you murmured in excuse for your jumpiness.
Asmodeus just giggled, meeting you with a molten gaze tinged with adoration. The painful tightness in his chest from before, seeing your face cast into a shadow of pain and sadness had faded. Replaced by warmth and a sense of pride that he had been able to do anything to put a much less sorrowful expression on your face - albeit one that warred with your embarrassment.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for, my dear. Just lay back and relax. I’m here to help you feel better, remember?” He reminded you cheerily. He bent his head down further between your thighs as he finished his sentence, delicately sliding his tongue between your lips and up through your heat until you jumped again instinctively. “ This should help with that~” He added cheekily and you spied an impish hint in his expression as he met your eyes.
One hand continued to trail lightly along the soft skin of your thighs, eliciting several small ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ from you at the ticklish feeling. The other moved to aid him, spreading your lips and granting him clearer access to your heat. The tip of his tongue pressed against your bundle of nerves, twisting and twirling as if tracing out some obscure patterns. His hand abandoned your thigh in favor of joining his mouth, prodding at you with one slender finger, then a second, and sliding slowly inside, curling and searching.
Finding what they sought, they hooked up a bit more confidently, rubbing firmly against the spongey spot. Your head lolled back into the pillows, jaw slack as a drawn-out moan drifted out. While your eyes fell away from him, Asmodeus’ attention didn’t dare leave your face. He studied each little change, searching for those tiny looks that told him if he had strayed from the most pleasurable place or if you were getting too overstimulated. He lifted his mouth from your clit when he felt your breathing begin to pitch or your muscles start to tighten a little too hastily around him.
Eventually, spurred by his deft, gentle touches and tongue, you felt a surge rising like a tidal wave within you. Your blood was liquid fire and your breath was heaving out in short, sharp gasps and needy whimpers. Your head swam with the sensation that was rippling out from your center, starting to make the muscles in your stomach and thighs tense.
“That’s it, love, let it go, trust me,” Asmodeus encouraged, well aware of how close to your peak you were.
You had already been crying out his name softly as he built you up, but your cries for him crescendoed, joined by a mewling chorus when the molten tension in your core began to shatter. A sense of euphoria rolled over you in waves, drug out by the steady, soft stroke of his fingers and tongue. At last, the bliss wore away and so, too, did Asmodeus’ ministrations. You didn’t bother to move for a minute, eyes sealed shut and basking in the buzzing aftermath.
Asmodeus sat up, simply enjoying the happy, blissed-out look stretched across your face for a moment, memorizing it. He moved carefully back up your body, cupping your face in both hands when he came level with you. You felt him press his lips against yours again, only vaguely noting how wet they still were and the taste that lingered on his tongue when you invited him in again.
He kissed you for a time, never letting the ardor fade, but allowing you to recover. Around you, the rest of the world seemed to fade away, leaving you in half a dream, floating and so much more peaceful than you had been when the day began.
When he finally snaked a hand between your thighs again and parted you, pushing slowing inside, careful not to bury himself too quickly, you half-sighed, half-groaned at the feeling. You didn’t hurt, you didn’t feel overwhelmed, you just felt full and warm. He laid still for a time after he was seated within you fully, letting you adjust, distracted enough by your lips to wait.
He continued to kiss you deeper into your blissful stupor when he began to move, a steady, firm roll of his hips against yours. His lissom fingers were preoccupied, caressing your cheeks and your neck. Occasionally he broke away from your mouth, only to murmur more loving reassurances into your ear. You only half-heard them in your daze, yet still, they made you shudder.
When Asmodeus’ breath started to quicken and his kisses grew a bit sloppier, though still with tenderness to them, he reached again between your legs. You moaned and whimpered into his ear as he stroked at your nub once again, hastening you to join him in his fall into the abyss. You were long past holding back and came undone all over again to the soft touch of his fingers and the persistent rock of his hips.
Your voice rose again in your pleasure, Asmodeus’ joining you as he, too, reached his end, his moans ringing clear and thin along with yours until he was spent. He didn’t pull out at first, cording his arms around you and making your world spin again. You were left cradled in his arms, enjoying the drum of his pulse in time with your own. “Rest a little, love. I’m not done with you yet,” purred Asmodeus, his rich voice vibrating through you, pressed so close as you were to him.
You couldn’t help but oblige his words, your eyes fluttering closed again, drawn to a peaceful, dreamless sleep by the beat of his heart and warmth of his body.
When you awoke, you were tangled still in Asmodeus’ hold, though he had withdrawn from you. A welcoming kiss was placed on the crown of your head once he realized you had begun to stir, rubbing his palms along your shoulders and back. “I was beginning to think I had been too hard on your, my dear,” he teased with a light peck on your lips.
You didn’t answer for a moment, only burning yourself deeper into his embrace, nuzzling your nose and cheek against his collarbone. Part of you wanted to drift back off to sleep, craving to never leave the warm, comforting bliss you were enveloped in. But you knew now you couldn’t spend all day in bed - even if your mood had heightened considerably. There was also the matter that the two of you likely needed to take another shower now.
“We should probably go clean up again…” you muttered groggily, your words muffled against Asmodeus skin.
“Hmm, how about a bath this time instead?” He offered.
You hummed as you considered the option. A bath did sound nice and Asmodeus always was boasting about how wonderful he made sure his were. “That sounds great.”
Despite agreeing to get up and take a bath, it took some time to finally extricate yourself from Asmodeus’ embrace and the blankets, inviting as it was. But you managed, at last, quickly throwing on some clothes since you would be making the trip to Asmodeus’ room since his bathroom was far more suited to a luxurious bath. It wasn’t the longest trip, but you sure weren’t going to chance making your way down in the halls naked or in your underwear - that was asking for trouble in the House of Lamentations, especially with Asmodeus in tow.
Several minutes later and a secretive journey down the halls you were tucked into a full, steaming tub with the Avatar of Lust. Asmodeus had spent no small amount of time fussing over getting the water to just the right temperature and level, as well as gathering all the little extras he insisted a bath required. You sat opposite him in the immense tub, the room slowly filling with the steam of the bathwater and making a comfortable fog. Asmodeus had decided that it should be a bubble bath - what was more relaxing, after all? - so now mounds of thick, glittering foam drifted across the water’s surface. You poked at the suds absently, swirling them with your finger.
Any soreness your intimacy with him had brought about was soothed away by the heat of the bath and whatever fresh, clean-smelling oil he had added to the water along with the bath bomb. You couldn’t quite place what the smell was, but it blended with the hints of wood and fruit left from your shower earlier that day. You had almost completely forgotten the horrid voices lurking in your mind, their volume relegated to the barest whisper and held at bay. All of the affection, reassurances, and a nap taken in tired comfort rather than self-hatred had been reinvigorating for your mental and emotional strength
Your attention - which had been focused on nothing in particular for some time as you enjoyed the bath - was drawn to the quiet clinking of glass bottles and you looked over to your bath partner. Up until then, he had been lounging just like you, eyes closed and a pleased smile stretching his lips. He was fishing some small glass containers you hadn’t noticed beforehand from an end table beside the tub. You were surprised you managed to miss them given their loud design and colors. He brandished two of the bottles in one hand while wiggling the fingers of the other hand. “Wouldn’t it be adorable if we matched?” He decided enthusiastically.
You chuckled to yourself and lifted one hand from the edge of the tub and offered it to him. His cheer was infectious and you were more than happy to oblige him by that point. He took it after unscrewing the tops from the bottles and settling them on the table edge closest to him and began applying generous coats of the pink and green polish, alternating the colors so they imitated his own nail polish. You sighed and relaxed back against your edge of the tub, content to let focus on your nails, though you were careful not to withdraw your hand from his grasp.
You weren’t sure how long it took to properly paint your nails considering the layers and drying periods and such involved - but it didn’t matter. Time had ceased to mean much to you at that point in the day. You were too entrenched in the comfort and affection Asmodeus had been deadset on lavishing you with to be concerned about it by the time your nail painting and bathing came to an end. All you knew was you didn’t feel so dejected anymore - you didn’t feel lonely and unwanted or hopeless. Putting effort into the world around you didn’t seem nearly so pointless. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t finish the rest of the day out enjoying your perfect pretend world either.
When the final coats had been applied, the pair of you had eased back into the tub. Enjoying the fading heat of the water for a bit longer before finally rising and draining the tub. Once you had dried and re-dressed - Asmodeus had been kind enough to fetch you a fresher set of clothes than your pajamas from your room while you dried off - it was the first time that day you felt clear-minded and content, happy. Though it seemed Asmodeus wasn’t throwing in the towel yet - nor had he forgotten your plans for the day. “Think you’re up to our little shopping trip, love? If not, we can always stay in here~,” he offered as an alternative, gesturing to his four-poster bed with a sweep of his hand and a wink.
You rolled your eyes in a good-natured fashion. As tempting as the idea of snuggling up to Asmodeus was, among other things, you were convinced the cycle of getting dirty and cleaned up again might never end if you decided to go with the second option. Maybe another day. “I’d like that, sure” you agreed cheerfully.
Maybe the monsters in your head would come back to torture you again tomorrow or the next day, or even next week, but for now, you felt better, and you were going to make the most of it. And even when you waged another war within yourself, you had someone there who would do everything he knew how to cheer you up all over again.