Gross. [Reverse! Harem x Reincarnated! Male! Reader]

C. 17

A blessed kingdom dessert, caramel strawberries included, was laid out in front of everyone sitting at a gold-decorated table. Reaven sat at the head, changed from his intricate outfit and now wearing an open chested, as well as back, red robe. He kept letting out little hums of enjoyment as he bit into his berries. Damien stood next to him, still in his full armour, he wasn't eating anything, just staring. Then, Abel sat across from you and Medea, donned in a much shorter robe and wine glass in hand.

Of course, the help would eat after their shift. Not like they were people too, right?

You angrily chomp down onto a berry, feeling the glare of Damien on your skin. You didn't care if he was going to 'punish' you for disrespecting Reaven, you were protected by gods, and you knew his weaknesses as you had spent a thousand lives with him.

Oh, the strawberries do taste like caramel, that's a pleasant surprise. You glance over at Medea, hoping to see her face as she was a peasant trying expensive treats, you didn't expect to see her and Abel staring at each other's eyes. She starts playing with her hair, obviously embarrassed by the red eyes dancing around her form. You nudge her arm, flicking your head to the head of the table once she glances at you, she was just asked to become Reaven's first harem member, the Holiest Priest himself had chosen her, you would not let her go from someone you trusted to... him.

She nods, looking at her plate instead of the hypnotic orbs of Abel.

"Aw, you jealous handsome~?"

Oh no, you accidentally look into his eyes and you feel... well, it's different from last time. You look away, trying to re-focus on your dessert but all you can think about is a pair of pretty eyes.

"Hm... handsome? Look at me darling~."

"No thanks."

You feel a silked-covered hand grabbing the back of your head, yanking roughly on your hair. Medea is far too interested in her plate to notice the absolute aura of hatred flowing from both you and Damien.

"Do what he asks. You are nothing but a guest."

You nearly try to spit on his face but the loud noise of goldware being slammed against the table catches the attention of everyone at the table. Eyes go to large puffed-up wings, the feathers at the edges are fluffed in every which way. Aw, was Reaven protecting you? Or was he jealous he wasn't the one pulling your hair?

"Damien, I'll cut your hands off."

Okay, thank gods, Reaven was acting like himself.

The knight does not let go, instead, he held it a little tighter. You could sense a pair of eyes staring at you in worry, another looking on in amusement.
Why did Damien seem so angry in this life? He needed a hobby, something other than trying to hurt you. Maybe he could start fencing or training the younger, newer knights.

"Damien-!"

A hiss escapes from the gloves Damien wore, then from his skin as the silk burned off. He releases you quickly, and as you turn you see his hand shaking in pain. Tears form at the corner of his eyes, you feel a little bad, his poor hand covered in burns. He was more used to blades on his skin than holy fire ruining his hand.

"Damien?"

The knight lets out little cries, each soft and almost unnoticeable. What wasn't unnoticeable was Abel's laughter, nor was Damien chanting demon over and over again.
You would be executed for 'being a demon' unless you took some serious action.

You grab his hand, him grimacing in pain and desperately trying to take his hand from your grasp. You swore you heard him beg for no-more. You gently massage his wrist as you kissed his inner palm, he let out another cry. This poor man was always protecting you and, even if he was a bit more violent this time around, you felt like you needed to repay him.

Abel stopped laughing. He, your sister, and Reaven looked on in what you assume is interest. It wasn't a nice sound, burnt flesh healing itself far quicker than it should, and you can sense some discomfort from Medea.

You look up at Damien, seeing that a few tears had escaped his lids though he tried to keep up an act. He was still glaring at you, his lips forming a tight frown. His eyes quickly widened once he felt the large and sudden amount of pain that comes with healing wounds like this, though it was better than having to hold a blade with a burnt palm.

"Please s-stop it."

Gods, you almost think you're torturing him at this point! You place a few more kisses onto his palm, hopefully, he would go numb soon because the process was almost done and that was very, very painful.

Oh. Damien fell to his knees, accidentally resting his head on your thigh, you wouldn't think anything of it, he was in pain. He brought his other hand to his mouth, a muffled scream escaping his mouth as more tears escaped his eyes, falling onto your leg and making little wet patterns onto the fabric.

"I'm so sorry Damien, I really am."

You brush one of your hands on his hair, a little distraction from the ache and pain coming from his hand.

"It must be done like this, otherwise you wouldn't be able to protect anyone."

"Y/n... once this is done, please take Damien to his room."

"Yes, Your Holiness."

"So we're just going to accept this?! This isn't something a butler can do!"

You wanted to slap Abel but the knight was more important.
But.
If one more thing escaped his mouth that made you mad...