Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sano:

• It was a cold December day, and an awfully boring one at that. Sano had left to go run errands (which probably included getting another test victim and highly dangerous medical supplies) and left you alone in the house for the day. You aimlessly wandered into other rooms, trying to find something, anything to do. You pushed open the heavy door to the lab, goosebumps rising on your skin at the sheer frigidness of the room.
• Despite wearing a sweatshirt, it was still cold all throughout the house. Your eyes scanned the nightmarish room, landing on a very prominent white coat. Surely he wouldn't mind if you wore it, right? You slipped on the surprisingly comfortable garment, carefully removing the empty syringes and scalpels that he left in the pockets. You spent all day curled up in that lab coat, it kept you surprisingly warm and it was comfy.
• When Sano got back home, he was too busy hauling the unconscious victim into his laboratory to really analyze what you were wearing. All he cared about was getting the person strapped and secured down before they woke up. However, when he did get the time to really acknowledge you, he immediately panicked upon seeing you curled up on the couch in his lab coat. He had left so many sharp things in there, what if you got hurt!? He rushed over to you, shoving his hands in the pockets, only to be met with...nothing.
• You opened your mouth to speak, only for him to grab your face in both of his hands, a stern look on his face. "Are you okay Y/N? Are you hurt? Has anything stabbed you?" He berated you with questions, and you almost couldn't tell him that you were perfectly fine and that you had taken out all of the contents in the pockets. He let out a huff of relief, his shoulders untensing. He sat next to you with a huff, now that he was calmed down he could finally come to the realization that you were wearing his lab coat. He was so blinded by the thought of his dirty medical supplies cutting you and causing an infection that he failed to truly realize just what you were wearing.
• You couldn't read his face as he stared at you emotionlessly. You felt a pang of worry shoot through you, maybe you weren't allowed to wear it? Before you could dwell on the thought, a smile creeped its way onto his face, a rare sight to see from someone as cold as Sano.
• "You look nice. I'm glad you were wise enough to clear the pockets of anything potentially dangerous. Were you cold?" You nodded in response, and he pulled you to him. It had been a long day for you both, and right now he just wanted to hold you. 
• What he truly wanted to say was that you looked adorable, but his pride didn't let him say such childish things, so he opted for a more mature synonym. He truly did love how you looked in his lab coat though. Maybe he could spoil you and get you one of your own, or let you wear more of his clothes. Overall, he was pleasantly delighted to see his doll all dressed up just like he is. 

Akira:

• Winter nights were always cold. You curled up in the sheets alone, Akira had gone off to work for the night, so you only had yourself and your thoughts to keep you warm. However, the blankets were akin to tissue paper, they did not help in keeping you warm at all. You just wished you could fall asleep already and forget how torturously cold it was. With an annoyed sigh, you sat up, grabbing your phone and turning on the flashlight. You scanned the bedroom for anything to keep you warm and comfortable on this terribly awful night.
• You managed to find one of Akira's sweatshirts. He never really wore them, saying that he's not 'a pussy against the elements', so you assumed it would be okay to wear it, even if it was just this once. You happily slipped it on, waddling your tired self back to the useless covers of your bed. The sweatshirt helped a little, and sometime around the ungodly hours of the night you managed to drift off into sleep.
• Akira usually finishes his shifts early in the morning and gets home, gets a shower, then immediately crashes into bed next to you, sleeping like a log. Today was no different. As you fluttered your eyes open, the first thing you saw is a tangled mess of inky black hair. He snored heavily, his broad chest rising and falling with every noisy breath. You marveled at how he could fall sleep in such freezing weather with only a tank top and his boxers on. It had been a particularly busy night last night, so you didn't want to wake him. You carefully removed yourself from the bed- well, tried to. Before you could get off a strong arm wrapped itself around your waist and pulled you flush against a warm body. You could hear a groan of protest when you tried to pry yourself from his iron grip.
• "I see that you're wearing my sweater. Were you cold last night baby?" His voice was rough and gravelly with the faintest hint of alcohol laced in it. You gave him a tired sound of confirmation and his arms tightened around you. He surely wasn't going to let you go anytime soon. He shoved his face into the junction between your neck and your shoulder, mumbling out "Go ahead and wear whatever, you look sexy dressed in my shit."
• From then on, he would encourage you to wear his clothes, even if they don't fit and practically fall off of you. He would buy himself sweatshirts in colors you liked, wear them for a bit, then 'accidentally' leave them out on his bed for you to wear when he's gone. His new favorite thing would be coming home and seeing you asleep on the bed or his couch dolled up in something of his.

Strade:

• You absolutely loathed what Strade had given you to wear. The tank top and shorts were so thin they were practically useless. You felt as if they would disintegrate if you poured water on them. You considered asking Strade if he could get you something online, but you were just too scared. What if he pulled a "You don't like what I've so graciously given you? I guess I'll have to teach you a lesson then..." You were too nervous to figure out.
• Today he was off to another bar, he stated that he wanted to go to one a bit further away than what he normally went to because he wanted a bit of variety. This left you alone in the house. It was a bit of a colder day, and despite trying to layer yourself underneath blankets, the thin clothes that you wore didn't help you at all. As much as you tried to distract yourself with the television, you couldn't prod away the cold, egging on your frustration. You should've just asked Strade to buy you a sweater, even if it was the most horrendous and ugliest thing he could find. You threw the useless blankets off of you and stomped your way upstairs. Hopefully Strade wouldn't mind you borrowing an article of his clothes. You rummaged through his wardrobe and found a sweatshirt with a stupid phrase on it. "Live life. Have fun. Drink beer." You rolled your eyes and threw it on, it was the only sweatshirt without bleached out blood stains on the fabric.
• It helped tenfold, despite the shitty quote on it. As a bonus, it didn't reek of blood. You spent the rest of your alone time sitting on the couch watching animal documentaries and eating animal crackers. You flinched when you heard the door burst open, revealing a tired looking Strade and a very muscular person thrown over his shoulder. He hurriedly rushed downstairs with them, sealing their fate. You tried to ignore Strade the best you could until a warm pair of hand came down on your shoulders. They pulled you into a tight hug, the light musk of sweat and blood hitting your nostrils.
• "Liebling! It's great to see you! I got myself a real good catch today! They were super hard to control, this one will be fun." He was so busy bragging to you about the amazing new victim he got that he supposedly failed to notice what you were wearing at first. However, once he leaned down to give you a kiss on the cheek, he noticed that your arms were covered...he had never given you anything but tank tops and shorts before. He leaned you back to see that you were wearing a sweatshirt of his that he had completely forgotten he owned.
• His lips bloomed into a wide smile. "You look so cute in that! Oh my gosh!" You had no choice but to listen to him as he cooed and admired you in his stupid looking sweater. He talked about how you should wear more of his clothes, and how he should get some specifically for when he's wanting to slice your limbs up. He sounded like a teenage girl with how excited he was, it almost reminded you that this hellspawn was still a human.

Rire:

• Hell was extremely hot in the summer and incredibly cold in the winter. With your only source of clothing being skimpy silk nightgowns, you were almost all the time shivering and shaking during the winter. You had never heard your teeth chatter so loudly before, even with the heavy blankets covering your body. You knew that you would inexorably get a cold, no matter how deep you burrowed yourself into the sheets. You were alone again tonight, Rire was a very busy demon and didn't have much time for you. You had never slept in the same bed as Rire except for when you first met him, so cuddling for warmth was out of the question. You asked him before for something warmer and he denied you with the cockiest smirk plastered onto his cruel face. 
• A loud knock on your door startled you, causing you to sit up. A small red imp entered with something in his hands. You couldn't quite make it out, but as he got closer the moonlight illuminated what seemed to be a black button-down shirt. You looked at the imp in question. "This isn't mine, I think it's Rire's." The imp shook his head. "My lord wanted to give this to you temporarily, he noticed how cold it was and figured you'd be in need of it." He handed you the expensive looking fabric and left, obviously wanting to get some rest himself. You held the shirt in your hands, a look of confusion plastered onto your face. You unfolded and unbuttoned it, sliding the shirt over your cold body. It was comfortable, but it wasn't a very good insulator. You were still shivering, but it was better than it was before. You drifted off to sleep, clutching and wrinkling the shirt that you were given.
• You were awoken by the sound of the door to your room opening. Drowsily, you look over to see Rire, looking as pristine and perfect as ever. You looked like a bag of rocks compared to the demon king, and you bashfully hid yourself away. "Now now, there's no need to hide from me." He sounded a lot closer than where he was before. A strong hand pulled away the covers to see you, and more importantly, his shirt. A wide grin formed on his lips, his golden eyes boring into yours. "I see that you've decided to seek warmth within one of my shirts. I'll allow it. However, next time I expect to see you in my room." He surprisingly have you a brief kiss on your forehead before hastily taking his leave.
• Now, Rire wanted to keep you alive until you died of natural causes. He couldn't have you dying of hypothermia now, could he? He decided that it would be most efficient to just hold you and give you his warmth rather than having actually warm clothes on you. Besides, you were his lover (even if it wasn't very obvious) and don't lovers hold one another at night? He plans to see you dressed in more of his clothes in the near future. If you're good, maybe he'll even let you wear his crown.

Cain:

• Cain had a very eccentric yet fashionable wardrobe. You had found articles of clothing that the angel has told you are hundreds of years old, as well as funny looking shoes that you made fun of to his dismay. Despite the antique and charming nature of his clothing selection, you never really wore many of his things. Sometimes you wore his blazer after a long session of rough sex, but that was really the only time you ever wore any of his clothes. As of now, Cain was out at the surface getting the two of you more painting supplies, and you laid boredly on one of the lavish couches.
• You flipped lazily through the TV channels, surprisingly the shows in Tartarus were similar to the ones back in the human world, and you settled for a sitcom show about a green haired succubus, supposedly the wife, having a poor yet comedic relationship with a large horned incubus, the husband. You got pretty invested into the show, even if you didn't understand some of the references. You felt a chill run down your body, earning a small shiver from you. Why were you so cold all of a sudden? You sat up, rubbing your arms. It was a commercial break, so you had a short amount of time to find something to warm you up without missing any of your show. You rushed to your room, your eyes landing on Cain's blazer strewn across the bed. It was uncharacteristic for him to be so lazy with his clothes, maybe he was in a hurry this morning? You could hear the sitcom coming back on, so you hastily grabbed it and rushed back out to the couch.
• You had lost track of time when you heard the front door open, revealing your boyfriend with thin plastic bags of art supplies. You asked if he needed any help and he shook his head, so you turned your attention back to your show. Suddenly, you felt broad hands plant themselves on your shoulders, leaning you back as Cain bent over the back of the couch to give you a kiss. He looked back up to the TV and scoffed. "I hate this show, it makes marriage seems horrible..." He looked down at your frame, a smirk plastered onto his face. "That looks nice on you, you should wear it more."
• Ever since then, he would always offer you his blazer, even if it was searing hot. Something about seeing you, his darling, all dressed up in his clothes made him fall for you all over again. What a good pet, knowing how to care for your needs all by yourself. Expect a lot of flirting and fucking when you're wearing his clothes. He can't resist, you just look so cute and perfect for him! It's not his fault you're so tempting...

Lawrence:

• His apartment was always so cold. You didn't know if it was because of the eerie atmosphere or the fact that he himself was just so frigid, but every day it was a struggle to fall asleep. No matter how close you two were, he was always as cold as a corpse, it was as if you were cuddling an ice block. You were lucky he let you keep your limbs; he had confessed to you in the past that he did want to take them off at some point but scratched the idea because he probably would have killed you. You could only imagine how cold you would have been with the lack of limbs. Every day you were shaking, and it didn't help that winter was rapidly approaching. You needed to ask Lawrence for something warmer to wear.
• "Lawrence? I have a question..." You were a little nervous to ask him, since he was so unpredictable. One time you simply asked him if he could get you a new toothbrush and he freaked out. He acknowledged your question with a terse 'hm'. You shakily inhaled, and asked "Can I have something warmer to wear? I'm always cold." He stopped what he was doing and looked over at you, his piercing eyes never failed to sort of freak you out. He didn't seem upset, but he didn't seem to be considering the idea either. After an awkward moment of silence, he slid his jacket off of him and placed it on you. It smelled...not the freshest, but it would definitely do for now. You pulled your arms through the sleeves and hugged the cloth, murmuring a 'thank you.' 
• He let you keep wearing his jacket, except for when he had to run out and do something. Other than that, the coat was yours, and you were very grateful. However, you would catch his eyes lingering on you for just a moment longer, and one time you woke up to him admiring you, only for him to turn crimson and hide away. It was obvious he really liked how you looked, even though the jacket had stains and a few small holes in it. He didn't really bother to get you something of your own, he just gave you his stuff.

Vincent: 

• The heater broke AGAIN today. You kept telling Vincent that kicking it will eventually not work, and today was the day. He groaned, why did it have to break smack dab in the middle of January?! He told you he'd go find someone to fix it, he knows a guy. This left you where you were now, playing laptop games alone in the cold. You hated the cold, but you were so immersed in your game that you only started to notice just how cold you were when your teeth started chattering and it was getting harder to press the keys. Vincent was very open to sharing his clothes with you, so you paused your game and went to go get a sweatshirt.
• You picked your favorite sweatshirt of his, slipping it on and relishing in the warmth it provided. It was merchandise of an obscure heavy metal singer, but you really just liked it because it was super high quality. You had tried listening to the singer before, only for it to feel like your ears were being fed hexed lemons. You respected his music taste, but you would much rather listen to something where you can understand what the person is saying.
• You got back to the game, losing track of the time. Vincent returned home with a shady-looking guy who gave you a wink. Vincent looked sour at the man's poor attempts of flirting but didn't harp at him. You two needed that heater to be fixed, or you may as well just die. As the guy was off working on the heater, Vincent couldn't help but possessively hold you. Couldn't that guy see that you were wearing his clothes? Vincent seemed on-edge for the entirety of the repairman's visit, giving him glares and murmuring under his breath how 'he couldn't be as good as me' and 'nobody's takin my bitch' and whatnot. You soothed him by petting his head, reassuring him that yes, you are his.
• Finally, he pays the repairman and he leaves, no tip. Vincent is immediately hauling you into his arms, holding you impossibly close to him and kissing all over you. "Dumbass couldn't see that you're wearing my shit, you wouldn't leave me for him, right?" You shook your head at his question, giving him a sweet, sugary kiss. "No Vincent, I would never leave you." That was all it took for him to pick you up and trudge the two of you off to his room, wanting to prove to you that you are his. (Not that you don't know it already, of course.)
• He thinks you look sexy in his clothes. It doesn't matter what you're wearing, hell even his socks look hot on you in his opinion. Every time you're wearing something of his (and you aren't in public) he will fuck the shit out of you, it doesn't matter where or how but just know that you've turned him on, and now you have to deal with the consequences. Expect to not walk tomorrow.

Ren: 

• Ren was highly unreasonable sometimes. He gave you practically anything, except a sweater. In his mind, you're trying to hide the beautiful marks he's given you, but in your mind, you're going to get a cold. No matter how much you pleaded with him he would not give you what you so desperately needed, the word 'no' becoming annoying at this point. It didn't help that the metal of your collar was always frigid, and there was really no way to get rid of it. The colder it got outside, the more annoyed you were. Oh, how you wanted to yell and insult him sometimes, but the pain wasn't worth it.
• Ren seemed to notice that you were becoming less...energetic. He truly did love you, he didn't understand why you were so grumpy and bland all of a sudden. You sat on the couch, your arms crossed. You were shaking, and you were fighting the urge to just knock yourself out so you wouldn't have to bear with the cold. He approached you caringly, sitting beside you. You looked over and felt rage build within you. That bitch has the audacity to wear a sweater, but not give you one?! You gave him a filthy look. Maybe the electrocution will warm you up.
• "Y/N? What's wrong? You've been so distant-" "You wanna know what's wrong? I'm fucking cold. Every time I ask you for something to warm me up, you always pridefully tell me no with the invalid excuse of me 'hiding what you gave me'. I don't care how I look I just don't want to spend every day of the next few months suffering." You boldly interrupted him, causing him to look a little shocked. He fiddled with the remote in one of his hands, and honestly you didn't care at this point. You shut your eyes, preparing yourself for the pain...only for something soft to be laid in your lap. You looked down and saw Ren's sweater. You looked at him, surprised. He had a big smile on his face, his tail shifting subconsciously.
• You put it on and immediately felt better. A wide smile bloomed on your face, and he pulled you to him. You snuggled into him, happy that your wishes have finally been granted. You apologized to him for being so rude, and he nodded in understanding. Ren thought you looked lovely in his sweater. Even if it was a little small on you, he would just have to get you a bigger one. Better yet, he would get you two matching sweaters!