Archive of Our Own ^beta

“You really don't need to-” Generic begins, cutting herself short with an effeminate whine.

The cause? Your fingers digging nice and deep into her belly. Gently caressing her smooth skin can only satisfy you for so long, gifting hints of a real massage as you coyly attempt to feel a kick or any sense of stirring. Optimistic, of course. Things are still early.

“Let me pamper you once in a while,” you whisper, letting her hair tickle your nose.

She's certainly not complaining about her seat. Firmly in your lap, her feet effectively rest atop your own, tail threatening to wrap around your waist as she leans into you. All according to plan, playfully kissing her neck, only to retreat.

“You do more than enough,” she reminds you with a sigh. Protest as she might, she makes no effort to leave.

“Do I?” Making breakfast every day hardly seems like the most demanding of duties, even for a family as large as yours. “Want to inflate me ego a little?”

“Well,” she purrs, almost as if hesitant. “The sex is decent.”

“Only decent?”

“I wasn't finished,” she chastises with ease, an amused chuckle her explanation as she dexterously flicks you on the nose with the tip of her tail. “Now, let's see.”

“Other than sex, which is fantastic. There are the breakfasts. I know I do my fair share from time to time, but you're always so dutifully there every morning ready to crack eggs and prepare syrup. We should probably think about diversifying our morning meals.”

“Lucifer insists on pancakes,” you remind her, still eagerly rubbing her belly. “It is true, nutrition doesn't matter for Demons, right?”

“Sort of,” Generic reluctantly agrees. “Sugar and willing seed is more than sufficient, but wouldn't some meat and fibre be a nice change of pace?”

“I'm really only good at pancakes,” you remind her. “Dinner's more than just sweets, at least.”

“True. It's not as if you're solely to blame. Justice has catered to Lucy's sweet-tooth since long before you met her.”

“They've always been sweet on each other, huh?”

“That they have,” Generic says with a wistful sigh. “So adorable together. However, we're talking about you.”

“Right, how great I am.”

“Exactly!”

Ah, with how easily she agrees, your cheeks feel a tad hotter.

“So, we have cooking and sex. We'll gloss over the wonders you perform for Pandemonica. You're accommodating of Azazel's quirks, even helping her navigate asking us for certain permissions.”

“That's mostly her,” you point out. “She's getting better with it.”

“That she is; under your tutelage.”

“Gen-”

“Hush, I'll have none of it.”

Just like that, she squirms in your grip, forcing you to stop with you gentle touching and massaging. Turning and lifting herself, she's no longer content with your lap, spilling out and taking the seat beside you. She uses the armrest of the sofa to support her back, flashing you her enticing smile as her legs drape across your thighs.

“There,” she begins anew, reaching out and stroking your arm. “Now I can guilt-trip you whenever I hear a disagreement.”

“Yes ma'am,” you relent, chuckling as she smiles.

“Let's see, Zdrada and Malina are better off for you, you know?”

It's not something you often think about, but it's easy to see how. The former no longer attacks you, almost a different person entirely; provided you're alone. With little Zaufanie joining the world, well. Let's just say Zdrada is as doting a mother as she is protective. Malina on the other hand, well, she hasn't changed much. She still plays an unhealthy amount of video games and drinks little apart from vodka. Getting her and Judgement together, though? Well, that's an accomplishment. It certainly helped how receptive Judgement ended up being, even you didn't predict that.

“Zdrada's always been a secret softy,” you point out, earning a chuckle.

“Perhaps, but if she never gave any hints, it's pointless,” she disagrees with a hum. “Playing match-maker, however? That's undeniable.”

Yeah, you're somewhat proud of that yourself.

“Shall we aim bigger? Fixing a sisterly bond, perhaps?”

You have to raise a brow. “Malina and Zdrada were never that bad to each other.”

Generic's eyes shine. “I'm speaking of Lucifer and Micah, silly.” How easily she shifts her leg, tapping your nose with her big toe.

“I wouldn't say-”

“My lovely, modest husband. At one point, they couldn't stand being on the same plane as one another.” A chuckle slips from her as she shakes her head, as if the entire drama was nothing but a childish falling out over something like a misplaced toy. “Now, they share a roof.”

“Well, yeah. That's because of our kids, though.”

“I wonder,” she muses, looking as adorable as ever while she does. “Did Micah really have to volunteer herself for the role of teacher?”

“Maybe she thought it was time to bury the hatchet? I don't know the specifics, but it seems like it was a long grudge.”

She has that look in her eyes. The one that Lucifer once held when you'd make a mistake. It feels wrong coming from her, but it's dispelled as she sighs.

“We like it here, and it's mostly because of you. That, at least, you understand, right?”

You can't help yourself, grabbing her foot tenderly by the ankle. She goes along with you as you bring it to your lips, a soft, delicate kiss placed atop of it before you rub her sole, earning a groan of delight.

“I love you girls. Nothing's going to change that,” you remind her, fingers getting nice and deep as you massage away.

“Pan' will discipline you if you falter,” she warns.

Playfully, you hope...