#not one peaceful day at the house of lamentation

[rashomonss]

Learning To Adapt

context: readjusting dealt with MC, learning to adapt features how each of the brothers try to adjust to life after you disappeared, let me know if y’all want a dateables version! again some, short and somewhat angsty headcanons, enjoy!

come back to me

Your room is always visited every day by Lucifer. His visits are early in the morning and they usually consist of checking and cleaning your room for even the slightest speck of dirt or dust.

When you come back he doesn’t want a messy room on your to-do list. That and just being in your room gives him a little peace of mind, that a part of you is still here with him. Even if you aren’t actually there to reassure him you’re okay.

Lucifer will make the mistake of buying you something while he’s out shopping and it’s only when he returns does he realize his mistake. Because of this a box of things intended for you is collecting dust in the corner of his room

The piano is another thing that collects dust in the house. With you not there what reason does he have to play it? Even the thought of actually playing it makes him walk out of the room.

Of course, like usual his coping mechanism throughout this time period is to drown himself in work to the point of collapsing. Nothing new here. If anything he needs to show his brothers that he can keep it together; for they’re sake and his.

Mammon checks his pact mark in the mirror every day when he gets up. That’s the first thing he will do when he’s fully awake. Once you left and it started to fade all hell broke loose Due to this he constantly freaks out about it now.

He won’t let anyone touch him if they’re in the vicinity of his pact mark. Mammon actually moves away quite quickly, worried that the slightest touch might make it fade for good.

Any piece of clothing you stole from him, he decides to take it back and wear it. It smells like you and it’s the only way he actually stays calm, if not be warned of violent outbursts every once and awhile.

Much to his brother’s surprise he actually doesn’t hole himself up in his room. He instead picked up a few jobs and took the liberty of taking care of his brothers when Lucifer was too exhausted. Though at times he felt even more exhausted than Lucifer.

Mammon spends the most time in your room out of all of the brothers. Sometimes he’ll ignore his room for days and just stay in yours till Lucifer kicks him out. Though he just goes right back when the oldest leaves.

Levi constantly checks in and logs into your accounts for any games you have. He wants to make sure you don’t miss anything. A new event came out? Don’t worry he’ll speed run it and get everything for you. A new skin came out? Don’t worry you have it now.

He becomes so immersed in making sure you have a good ranking in a game or you get all the things he’ll believe you’ll want instead of actually taking care of himself. So when Lucifer and Mammon finally pull him away he collapses from sheer exhaustion.

He doesn’t leave his room per usual, the only other room he heads to if he gets up is yours. However, he walks in and then proceeds to hole himself up in there too until his brothers drag him out.

Lothan has been summoned many times when his brothers tick him off so the house is always a bit damp now.

Levi takes this time to finish the cosplays you both were working on, however, as he’s in the middle of sewing yours many emotions come on all at once and he becomes angry with you for leaving him.

He does understand that you didn’t have a choice and it’s not your fault at all, but he still becomes upset about the current situation and rips the costume. Once his breakdown is over he then cries at the destruction he’s caused.

Satan finds himself more irritated with everything these days. One wrong word from a lesser demon and he’s in his demon form causing a rampage across the Devildom.

Or one snarky remark from his brothers and a whole wall at the house of lamentation is suddenly is gone.

This man is irritated with everyone and everything. The only thing he finds comfort in now is the cats you both would feed in the alleys of some Devildom streets. However each time he goes to feed the cats, his wrath will boil up and he goes on a rampage due to the memories of you and him.

Not worry because he won’t finish any books you two were currently reading, instead, all those books get stacked neatly in your room for when you get back.

All the cleaning progress you made in his room went to waste because of how many times he’s had angry tantrums in his room.

The thought of cleaning his things does cross his mind, but then it makes him think of you and he decides against it, soon throwing more books around in a fit or rage.

He’s having trouble processing that your gone. After all this is his first time “losing” someone so dear to him, so give him time.

Asmo finds himself using everything he had to drag himself out of bed. He still does his regular routines but they take much longer now because he can’t find any purpose behind them anymore.

At first he went out and partied till he dropped or had to get picked up by Lucifer or Mammon. However while he was at a certain club, a demon had asked him where you were, since you both go clubbing together. And upon hearing the question Asmo literally broke down in the club, and hadn’t gone back since.

He’ll still wait by each classroom door to go pick you up. Asmo always made it a point to walk you to every class even if his was on the other side of RAD so he’ll still continue to wait for you due to it being such a habit for him.

However as soon as he sees the last student exit and there’s no sign of you he then remembers that your not there. Sighing he heads to class by himself, not particularly concerned if he’s late anymore.

Asmo tries his hardest to delude himself that Solomon will bring you back soon, each time he wakes up he wishes that this whole ordeal was just a horrible dream.

Whenever dinner comes around at the House of Lamentation each brother is forced to eat, per Lucifer’s demands. However as each of them put food on their plates, a separate plate of food is set at the end of the table in your spot along with silverware and a drink.

Throughout dinner, the food doesn’t go touched by anyone and once they all finish eating Beel takes the plate wraps it, then places it in the fridge with the rest of your leftover dinners.

They soon take up most of the fridge room but Beel forbids anyone from throwing them out. Including Lucifer.

No one is allowed to touch anything that had your name on it, Beel makes sure of that. Every single snack or dessert you had in the fridge or pantry is still there for when you come back. It doesn’t matter if it expired or not Beel refuses to throw them out.

Beel often floods a corner of the pantry with snacks you favored, and again doesn’t allow anyone to touch them. Every time he goes shopping he’ll buy you something as well, it’s become a problem for Lucifer since not many things fit in the pantry anymore so Beel can only be on grocery duty now if someone is with him.

When he has trouble sleeping Beel will look up to his ceiling and speak to himself as if he were speaking to you. He hopes you’ll reunite soon so he can tell you just how much he misses you and loves you. He’s dying to hear you say you love him.

Belphie curses you in his sleep. The youngest demon brother believes if he just sleeps throughout this whole period he won’t have to deal with the fact your not here.

Instead he tries to escape to his dreams, but in turn he finds you there greeting him with a smile. It hurts to see your smile.

Due to this he’ll often wake up in a cold sweat or to Beel shaking him awake out of concern. He then sighs and decides against sleeping for awhile. Which doesn’t turn out to be good for him in the long run.

Dark circles become more and more prominent as he goes some days without sleep. Belphie never took loss well, in fact he hated the whole thought of not being able to see you asleep next to him when he did awake.

He refuses to go to the planetarium for awhile due to being reminded of you. In the beginning he also stayed clear of your room too. However as the days pasted if his older brothers didn’t occupy the room he’d try to get a nap in your bed. It was difficult though.

There was a period of time he locked himself in the attic with a hope that maybe you’d come find him again in the spot you both first met. Much to his dismay Lucifer and Mammon found him and dragged the grumpy youngest back to his room.

part 2.

#obey me nb #obey me nightbringer #obey me nightbringer angst #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me angst #omswd #demon brothers #obey me luficer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey me mc

[say-al0e]

Breathe

Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18, Minors DNI!

Summary: Blowing Steve in his car. That's it, that's the plot. (Ft a prompt someone requested a million years ago, sorry!) Warnings: Oral (M Receiving), kind of exhibitionism (in his car in the woods); that's about it. Pairing: Steve x fem!Reader Word Count: 2.6k

There were only a handful of places in all of Hawkins where you and Steve could truly be alone.

Though Steve spent most of his time unsupervised, parents away and large house left empty, that rarely meant you were left to your own devices. If anything, it often seemed to mean you were bothered more frequently.

Dustin knew where to find the spare key and, if it moved, had no problem picking the lock on the sliding back door. The break room at Family Video was a no-go because Robin was never very far away and there were cameras - those were tapes that Steve never wanted Keith to see. And it seemed that no matter where you turned, there were children demanding rides or friends lamenting the lack of entertainment in Hawkins.

Steve’s car, parked at the edge of town - away from Lover’s Lake and Skull Rock, the first places bored deputies and your gaggle of adopted children would look - was the only place you could find a moment of something resembling peace.

The dim moonlight filtered in through the window, filled the front seat and illuminated Steve’s side profile as he sat in the driver’s seat. It cast shadows across the bridge of his nose, glittered in the warm brown of his eyes - highlighted the fond amusement that brightened his eyes, his near natural state of being these days - as he waved a Twizzler between quips about Dustin’s latest adventure.

“Little shit called me at midnight,” he huffed, eyes narrowing as his gaze fixed on something in the distance. “If I have to drive him to, or pick him up from, Munson’s trailer one more time, I swear I’m gonna make him start biking. I feel like I’ve turned into a fuckin’ taxi service for wayward teenagers.”

Steve swore he hated complaining - rolled his eyes any time he was forced to listen to someone else drone on about this inconsequential concern or that one, though most concerns seemed inconsequential after facing Hell time and time again. He’d promised that complaints were off the table for the night, that neither of you would talk about work or the kids, but you’d been sat at the edge of the woods, parked in his car in the dark, for nearly an hour and he’d done little else.

“I had to wait nearly an hour last week.” You knew that - he’d left you waiting at his place, lying on his couch half-asleep - but that didn’t stop him from huffing once more as he reached for another Twizzler. “Who does this kid think he is?”

The complaints - generally good-natured, never malicious as neither of you would trade your relationship with the kids for anything - were not new. Neither was this thing between you and Steve. There was a base of friendship, a closeness you’d shared for years, that made the transition from friends to more a little easier.

To know Steve was to love him, and love him you did. 

Being able to reach out and touch him, fingers brushing the soft cotton of his t-shirt or gliding along the rough denim of his jeans as you watched a movie without pulling a questioning glance from him; being able to lift your head and nuzzle your face in his neck, lips pressing to his heated skin any time you wanted - it was maddening in the most wonderful of ways.

Every moment you spent with Steve, full of half-hearted complaints or laughter or rare moments of reflection after all you’ve endured together, was worthy of appreciation - even the moments you’d rather not relive. But before you could redirect his complaints into something else entirely, a groan tore you from your pondering.

Steve frowned, slumped in his seat and brought his hand to his eyes as he rolled his neck. “I think I’m getting old,” he declared, sighing heavily before turning his head to face you.

With a surprised laugh and a roll of your eyes, you reached out to steal the candy from his hand. “You’re twenty, Stevie,” you reminded him, “you’re not getting old.”

“I’d agree with you if we lived anywhere else,” he acquiesced with a thoughtful frown, “but I think all the fights are catching up with me. I totally get what all those old people mean when they say they know it’s gonna rain because their knees hurt.”

There was something so endearingly serious about his complaint, concerned about the state of his body after years of sports and fights and supernatural dealings, that you couldn’t help the soft laughter that filled the interior of his car. It mingled with the soft music, joined Steve’s own easy huff of amusement - happy to make you laugh, to see your smile - as you shook your head once more.

Despite the heat blasting from the vents, a hint of January chill still managed to invade the cozy space. It reminded you that a whole world existed out there, beyond the comfort of the bubble you and Steve so infrequently were allowed to venture to, and you sighed as you traced the slope of Steve’s nose - the curve of his jaw, the plush of his lips, the soft set of his eyes as he returned your studying easily.

“You’re kinda pretty, Harrington.”

Even in the pale light, you could see the soft pink dusting his cheeks as he waved a Twizzler as if to brush away the compliment. “And you have been really quiet tonight. What’s up?”

Part of you wanted to tease him - remind him that it was difficult to get a word in edgewise with his dozens of complaints - but the larger part, the part that fixated on the beautiful boy sitting beside you, decided to lean across the seat and press your lips to his.

Steve tasted of artificial strawberry, soft and sweet, and hummed a noise of pleasant surprise as he dropped the candy and lifted his hand to cradle the curve of your jaw. Warm fingers splayed across your skin, tugged you closer - eager to have you near, to have his fill of you - and you let him. 

Kissing Steve was an experience you swore you would never take for granted. Now that you’d gotten a taste of him, you were hooked. His embrace simultaneously set you at ease and engulfed your body in the most pleasant warmth. Being at the center of his attention still felt just as exciting as it had in the beginning; it was indescribable and, though he could sometimes get distracted, you savored the moments you had him entirely to yourself.

The warmth of his fingers bled into your skin, warmed you from within and shielded you from the bitter Indiana cold, and you eagerly melted into him. It wouldn’t be long before his hands began to wander, fingers dipping beneath the soft material of your sweater, and you couldn’t help the contented sigh that escaped.

When you broke the kiss, desperate to take a breath and selfishly eager to catch sight of him, Steve exhaled a stuttering breath. As expected, his cheeks were flushed pink and there was a dazed look in his eyes that took a few quick blinks to shake before he fixed you with a curious look. “Not complaining,” he began, eyes dipping back to your lips, “but what was that for?”

Without thinking, you mirrored his touch - lifted your hand to his cheek, brushed your fingers along the stubble lining his jaw - and hummed. “You looked pretty and I’ve just missed you, is all.”

Steve frowned, a confused little furrow between his brows as he inched himself closer. He tipped his head to meet your gaze, no longer entirely captivated by your lips as he considered. “We’ve seen each other every day this week,” he reminded you, never stopping the soft stroke of his thumb across your cheek.

Though Steve was confident, a flirt by nature, he sometimes had a habit of taking things literally. So, instead of taking offense, you bit back a smile and hummed.

“I know.” While you both worked during the week, you still saw one another most days - on lunch breaks, after work, in the mornings when you allowed him to go out of his way to pick you up - but you hadn’t spent more than a few moments alone between Robin and the kids. So, you emphasized, “I’ve still missed you.”

“Yeah, I -“ Steve cut himself off with a sharp inhale as your hand fell to his thigh, fingers raking over the denim. He always ran warm, even in the winter, and you could feel the heat radiating off him as the muscle tensed beneath your touch. “Oh. Oh, yeah, I’ve missed you, too.”

As he shifted, eager to be closer now that your intention was clear, you bit back your laughter and leaned in to press your lips to his once more. 

The longer you spent with Steve, the easier it became to see his true self. Though he could be suave, flirty and confident, it was clear that he was nowhere near the Casanova he once pretended to be. Beneath the hair and the charming smile, he was eager - excited to love and be loved in return - and you were glad to give him all the affection he could want.

Though you were content to spend the rest of your night kissing Steve, you had every intention of taking full advantage of the precious alone time. As his hands began to wander, falling from your cheek to your neck - slowly beginning to glide down in search of warm skin - your hand drifted higher. 

When your fingers brushed at the seam of his jeans, nails raking over the zipper, Steve made a pleased noise that made you eager to hear more. Every brush of your hand, every ounce of pressure applied to the growing bulge in his jeans, had Steve shifting his hips in search of more. 

Riling him up was easy and he never left you guessing how he felt. With each experimental swipe of your hand and eager press of your mouth, his kiss grew more intense. And while you would’ve taken the time to tease him on any other occasion, it had been long enough that you were desperate. So, without preamble, you popped the button on his jeans and tugged at the zipper.

Steve broke the kiss then, a breathless laugh escaping his lips as he glanced between your face and your hand. “Shit. I’ve really missed you.”

With a playful roll of your eyes, you shifted in the passenger seat - attempting to get closer - and leaned in to nip at the hinge of his jaw. “Bet you say that to all the girls.” When he laughed, you hummed. “Your fault, though,” you reminded him as you slipped your hand into the denim and palmed at his length. “Your adopted kids keep interrupting us.”

“Even the babysitter deserves a night off.”

There was a self-satisfied smile on his lips when you laughed and you made no effort to tease him for the eager lift of his hips as you pushed past the final layer of fabric. There was a time for teasing and a time for quick release; though you wanted nothing more than to watch him fall apart completely, you would take what you could get in the moment.

Later, when the world managed to quiet around you, there would be time. You would be able to enjoy him completely, alone in the home that no longer felt cavernous when you used it as your escape, so you gave him exactly what he wanted. 

Though Steve expected a preamble, a teasing grin or laughter as he hinted at exactly what he wanted, you were more eager than he seemed to be. The moment he lifted his hips, you helped him nudge the denim down enough to free his cock. And instead of lifting your hand, spitting into your palm and beginning to work him up as he’d come to expect, a choked gasp escaped his mouth as you leaned in and traced the vein running along the underside of his shaft.

Warm brown eyes burned into your skin, watching your every movement as you wrapped your lips around the tip and lapped at the bead of precum. 

As you pressed yourself impossibly closer, ignoring the ache in your side and the uncomfortable press of the console and seatbelt buckle to your skin, Steve’s noises of pleasure made the time spent apart almost worthwhile. There was never any guesswork when it came to his pleasure, never any doubt that he was just as enthusiastic - if not more so - about the encounter as you. And his warm groan sent a jolt of pleasure down your spine as his hand fell to your head.

When you began to bob your head, setting a quick pace, Steve sighed. “Breathe through your nose,” he reminded you, fingers tangling in your hair as you pressed yourself closer and closer - a reminder he’d given you since the first time. “Just like that, honey.” He never pushed, never asked for more than he felt you were happy to give, but any time you decided to push yourself, he made sure you knew just how much he appreciated it. “So pretty, so good. Fuck.”

Steve swore, his hands flexing as he fought the urge to press - to lift his hips and control the pace, something you would’ve encouraged were it not for the confines of his car and the uncomfortable position you found yourself in - while you swallowed around his length. It was quick, eager and messy, not as common now that you knew one another so intimately. But you were delighted by the huff of your name and the moan that followed as you glanced up at him from beneath your lashes.

The week without intimacy left him desperate, eager for a release, and you knew that he would come sooner rather than later as his hips began to shift in search of your mouth. Any distance was too far, any pause too long, and you squeezed his thigh as you felt his body begin to tense.

There would be time later for him to return the favor - and you knew that he would return it with great enthusiasm - so you had no qualms about hollowing your cheeks and swallowing around him as you urged him to fall off the edge without a second thought. 

As you hoped he would, Steve came with a groan - a sound that fanned the flames already lapping at your skin, left you overheating in your knit sweater - and you hummed encouragingly as you helped him ride it out.

When you pulled away, lifted your head and swallowed, Steve readily pulled you in for a kiss. His hand returned to cradle your jaw, keeping you as close as he could for a long moment, before he allowed you to pull away. As you rested your forehead against his, he fixed you with a searching look.

“I’m totally in love with you. You know that, right?”

Steve made it a point to tell you often. “You might’ve mentioned it before. Always good to hear, though. Wanna take me home and show me how much?”

A limited as your alone time could be, there was little stopping Steve once he set his mind to something. So with a grin and a final kiss, Steve buttoned his jeans and gestured for you to buckle your seatbelt before he set off in the direction of his house. He was right; even the babysitter deserved a night off every once in a while.

________________________________________________

Author's Note: I didn't realize it until right this moment but the last birthday fic I wrote was also giving a favorite character a blowjob in a car so. Don't know what's up with that.

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#stranger things smut #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #steve harrington fic #v's fics

[lemonandlime22]

Just so Tired

Summary: Mc doesn't know how much more of this they can take.

Warning(s): angst, om nb spoilers mostly L15 spoilers, cussing

Word count: 603

A/N: Just a quick angsty nightbringer drabble, I know there are a lot of these but I rly like em. I've been so very caught up in getting the last bit of school done before summer break, just a few more days and ill hopefully be able to post more again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They all looked so happy there, just talking to Satan and asking all these questions about his books. Even Satan began to grow more excited as he answered them, reminding you of Levi when he talked about his interests. Times like this always made your heart grow warm with love and the feeling of peace, seeing them all happy together, not fighting, bickering, and with no problems that need fixing. You always made sure to stay quiet and just watch during these times unless any of them brought you into the conversation, you didn't want to disturb them and you were happy to just watch with a soft smile and warm eyes.

You felt so at home here, well obviously, this was your home and had been for years. And there for a moment you forgot, forgot all about how these brothers barely knew you and how much of an outsider you were to them, about how they don't share the memories you have with them.

But that moment was short and you were brought back to reality not a second later when Satan went on about a book he had recently started, looking at the cover you recognized it. It was one of the first books he had recommended to you, he always talked about how much of a good classic it was. And just like that, your guard was up again and you were aware of your position in this place.

You were their attendant, not family. This house was no home to you, at least not now. You could feel your heart being ripped apart for what felt like the millionth time since that fucker sent you here. You didn't know how much more you could take.

There was a ball that formed in your throat as you looked onto the warm moment before you. You truly hated it here, you hated how you couldn't be fully open with your family, with the people that you had grown to trust and love so much. You hated that you could no longer trust them and you had to be careful with what you said. You would love nothing more than to take Beel and Belphie up on their offer of talking to them, but you couldn't, you couldn't tell them a damn thing.

That ball grew as tears threatened to spill from your eyes and it felt like you would have to choke back sobs at any second. While they were distracted you quietly slipped out of the room and slowly made your way through the house, seeing it now as a reminder of the situation at hand only helped the tears spill.

By the time you made it out the front door, your cheeks were already stained with tears and more were following. Grabbing your DDD from your pocket you dilled for Solomon,

"Hello dear Mc, what cracklin'-" Solomon paused his sentence as he heard your choked-back crying, he only sighed and reassured you he'd be there soon to pick you up. By the time he got to the House of Lamentation you had stopped crying and just staired blankly at the ground with your knees hugged to your chest.

He sat next to you on the stone stairs, allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder. "Solomon..." You spoke quietly, almost to yourself. "Yeah, Mc?" There was a silence between the two of you that setaled back in for a moment before your shaky horse voice cut through it once more, "I..I'm tired..."

The wizard sighed and placed a protective arm around your shoulders "I know Mc...I know..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me nb spoilers #obey me brothers #obey me solomon #obey me satan #obey me drabble #obey me angst #obey me boys #obey me mc #obey me shall we date #obey me nb #obey me fic #obey me spoilers #obey me x reader #obey me x gn!reader

[blackcoffeeofmelancholy]

the brothers protect you from another demon

words: 4273

warnings: depictions of blood and violence, implied sexual assault, and dark themes

notes: I'm reuploading my previous work from my old blog, so I have everything in one place. I still have sequels to Mammon's and Leviathan's parts I have outlined and plan to write one day. And I'm slowly working on some new stuff when my brain allows me to lol.

As always, I apologize for any spelling or grammatical errors that may have gone unnoticed. Thank you to those who take the time to read and comment on my work; it’s greatly appreciated ♥

LUCIFER

An unusual quiet fills the school, the halls empty. Lucifer appreciates the peace despite working after hours, the only sound that of his quill against parchment. Typically, he opts to retreat to his office after class; today he decides to stay behind while you attend your private study session. Unlike his brothers—save Satan—your grades are acceptable, aside from one class that is lowering your grade point average. He wishes to tutor you himself, unfortunately, his current workload is far greater than he’s accustomed to, completely monopolizing his free time. The least he can do is wait for you in the student council room and escort you home, allowing him to enjoy your company, although fleeting. He values every second he’s able to delight in your presence, your smile a light in the darkness of the Devildom, and the brush of your hand causing his heart to flutter, temporarily satisfying his temptations.

Collecting his belongings, he awaits your arrival, staring at the door in longing. However, you never appear, the minutes ticking by at an agonizing pace. He frowns, checking his D.D.D. in the event you messaged him—nothing. Perhaps the lecture is running over time . . . A cry cuts through the silence, true unadulterated fear chilling him to the bone and stealing the breath from his lungs. He recognizes your voice, the sound of your panic causing him to spiral, his usual composure lost to the demonic aura ominously swirling about him, wings drawn out and raised in all their glory. The frantic beating of his heart pounds in his ears as he rushes down the corridor, pulling the classroom door off its hinges and tossing it aside to reveal the sinful scene before him. You lay feebly on the desk, struggling to free yourself, your nails biting into the professor’s skin. Their hand covers your mouth, muffling your screams, and the demon is grinning, pleasure dancing in their eyes. Lucifer sees red.

The stern call of his name grounds him in reality. He turns to meet Diavolo’s solemn gaze, the prince commanding him to stand down. Lucifer is indignant, hesitating to follow orders, yet he relents with a bow of his head. Blood splatters the walls and floor, the demon’s body lying motionless at his feet, limbs dangling at awkward angles and an arm precariously thrown across the room. He’s certain his actions are justifiable, but a part of him is overcome with shame at his loss of control. Glancing in your direction, he feels a swell of pride knowing he protected you—the most important person in his life; what wouldn’t he do to ensure your happiness? He entrusts the aftermath to Diavolo, eager to return to the House of Lamentation where he keeps you in his sight. Thankfully, your injuries are minor, it’s the shock that leaves you trembling in his arms. To his satisfaction, you stay in his embrace the remainder of the night into the morning, leaning into his gentle touches and kisses against your brow. No demon will harm you again; that’s a promise he’s sure to keep.

MAMMON

Mammon takes pleasure in the high gambling provides him, unable to curb his addiction much to his brothers’ frustration. They berate him for his losses, though there are times he emerges victorious, amassing a decent amount of Grimm behind their backs. Today the Great Mammon feels generous, inviting you to hang out after class. It’s the start of the weekend, and he craves your company, wanting to steal you away from his brothers. Knowing he has you all to himself leaves him giddy, his excitement evident in the blush spreading across his cheeks, the heat traveling down his neck and straight to his heart. When you smile, he can hardly breathe, awkwardly avoiding your gaze in an attempt to collect his bearings. His act of indifference is steadily falling to pieces, the Avatar of Greed practically melting at the warmth of your hand in his, threading your fingers together. He can’t deny the happiness you bring him, his gaze softening as you eagerly thank him, looking at him in adoration. Sure, he’s greedy, but he enjoys treating you, preferring your love to the Grimm in his pockets.

The streets are quiet, stars shining overhead and lighting the path home. Disappointment wells inside him the closer you get to the House of Lamentation, desperately wishing the night could last forever. Perhaps it’s selfish of him, however, his desire grows the longer you’re together, fanning the fire that threatens to consume him. He stops, turning to glance at you. It’s easy to imagine himself holding you against him, his hand on your cheek, gently tilting your head up to catch your lips in a kiss. Instead, he rests his hands on your shoulders, mouth unbearably dry, his confidence shaken the moment you lock eyes. Slowly, he leans forward, closing the distance between you only to hear you scream his name. He’s on the ground before he can react, confusion and panic clouding his thoughts. A growl escapes him, wings snapping into place on impulse, and his demonic aura shifting around him threateningly. Anger, hot and intense, swelters below the surface at the sight of you at another demon’s mercy, struggling to free yourself of their grip, nails biting into and breaking your skin. Your panicked expression physically pains him, his mind racing, assessing the situation.

Initially, he’s overcome with the urge to kill, poised to attack and tear the pathetic demon limb by limb, their cries music to his ears. Yet he hesitates, cursing the bastard for using you to their advantage, your body their shield; he can’t put your life at risk. He feels helpless, repulsed by such a display of weakness. How can you call him your protector when he fails to keep you safe? If he’s so great, why is he the one backed into a corner, sensing the fear that clings to you and now overwhelms his senses? He regards the demon warily, exchanging his wallet for you, briefly mourning the loss. They grab your wallet as well as the shopping bags, disappearing into the shadows with their spoils. Mammon considers hunting them down and personally showing them how hellish the Devildom can be, vowing their crimes won’t go unpunished. Despite the rage still boiling within him, he wraps you in his arms, nearly in tears as he breathes in your scent. His apology dies in his throat at the gentle touch of your hands cupping his face, drawing him into a kiss, your lips trembling against his. You’re irreplaceable. His world. He can’t envision life without you.

LEVIATHAN

It’s not often Leviathan leaves the comfort of his bedroom, venturing out into the Devildom, though he makes an exception for you. Most of your time together is spent playing video games or watching anime. Your constant reassurance eases his mind at the moment, yet he can’t help worrying you’ll tire of what he has to offer. Compared to his brothers, he’s pathetic, a gross otaku who is undeserving of your love and attention. He doubts himself, finding it difficult to ignore the voice in his head telling him he’s worthless, wishing he could be as suave as Lucifer or as smooth as Mammon. Why do you give him the time of day? Asking you to accompany him took all the courage he could muster, and now he wonders if he made the right choice. He wants to return the favor, bringing you the same joy you bring him, a bright light in the darkness that envelopes him. Loneliness no longer plagues him, and he finally feels understood—accepted—but does he take more than he gives?

The aquarium is scenic, your eyes widening in wonder while he tells you about the Devildom’s sea creatures, smiling fondly at a colorful school of fish as they swim past. He planned your date with painstaking precision, initially proud of himself; now he’s uncertain. Of course, he’s enjoying the aquarium, reminded of the ocean. He pictures the gentle flow of the waves washing to shore, and the salty breeze tousling his hair, soothing his nerves. You seem happy—are you? Afterward, he takes you to a nearby café. Seated outside, the weather pleasant, he glances at you, trying to gauge your expression. He can’t help thinking how incredibly cute you are, swallowing thickly as he reaches over to grab your hand. His heart is pounding. Surely you can feel the sweat on his palm, but you don’t pull away, leaning forward. He could kiss you, instead, he blushes, wishing he could hide in shame the second you frown. Ready to apologize for being a spineless coward, he hesitates, the sound of laughter drawing his gaze to the table behind you.

A couple of demons leer in your direction, snickering loudly. Your hand trembles in his, and he can see the way their words wound you, each scornful comment a critical hit to your self-esteem. They call you pathetic, a disgusting human who’s tarnished the Devildom’s image—you don’t belong here, especially not at the Avatar of Envy’s side. He stands, confronting the demons. Leviathan is a stuttering mess, his anxiety rising, but he’s determined to defend your honor. You grab his arm, reassuring him it’s alright; the demons are amused. They mockingly apologize, making a point to bump into you as they leave, sending you and your drink to the ground. The look of dejection on your face crushes him. Before he knows it, he’s summoned Lotan, flooding the streets. Luckily, his tail is wound securely around your waist, anchoring you to him so you aren’t washed away in the chaos. He brings you closer, pulling you into an awkward hug. Your date is ruined; he can’t recover from this. He apologizes profusely, hoping you don’t hate him. Are you okay? Is there anything you need? Anything he can do?  He’s stunned when you wrap him in your arms, pressing a light kiss to his lips. Head spinning, he sucks in a breath and kisses you back. He loves his Henry, and no one hurts you and gets away with it.

SATAN

Although he’s the embodiment of wrath, Satan is calm and complacent in your company, your soothing aura bringing him an inner peace that eluded him in the past. The day is perfect, the quiet of the bookstore with you by his side his ideal date. Your brows knit in concentration as you flip through a book, and he stifles a laugh, gazing at you affectionately. He’s drawn to you, the light of your soul mesmerizing him, leaving him breathless. A demon of knowledge, he resigns himself to the fact love is unexplainable, no longer questioning how a human managed to capture his heart; he welcomes the feeling, the fire you ignited burning relentlessly. You shelve the book, and he takes your hand in his, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, lips curling against your skin into a satisfied smile at your blush. He pulls you into his embrace, thankful to have you in his life. The world was a dark place before you entered it, desolate and chaotic; now it is nothing but a distant memory.

Taking advantage of the bookstore’s café, he stands in line while you look for a table. The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafts about him, and he eyes the pastries on display, deciding to surprise you with a sweet treat that will compliment your drink. When he turns to find you, you’re gone. Your D.D.D. lays abandoned on a table in the corner, no sign of you, his gaze flitting back and forth, scouring his surroundings. He waits, hoping you’ll reappear. Doubt begins to weave its way into his mind, a surge of adrenaline driving him to wander into the labyrinth of shelves, his anger and impatience growing the longer you’re not next to him—safe and sound. He comes across a trail of blood, his heart dropping. How could he leave you alone, vulnerable to the evils that still plague the Devildom? The bookstore gave him a false sense of security, becoming a place he could rely on to escape. Yet not for a human such as yourself, demons prowling in plain sight, considering you prey to hunt. 

In the backroom, he hears your cries. To say he’s furious is an understatement, he’s beyond livid, repulsed by the hand around your neck, and the tongue of the demon trailing down your neck to taste your blood. The remnants of the self-restraint he clung to relent to a blinding rage exploding within him, electrifying the atmosphere. Wrath consumes him, knowing no bounds. You’re protected in his arms, the building in flames once he regains control, the mangled body of the demon lost to the inferno. It’s a shame, he thinks, that the books must perish along with them—innocent victims of his bloodlust. Nevertheless, you’re alive, face buried in his chest. He’s sorry he foolishly let his guard down, putting you in harm’s way and forcing you to bear witness to the true powers of the Avatar of Wrath. Satan expects you to fear him. However, you allow him to tend to your injuries upon your return to the House of Lamentation. He’s gentle, wishing he could rid you of your pain, but he’s a truly demonic being, only capable of hurting you further. Your hand on his catches his attention, coaxing him into bed with you, giving him a sliver of hope. Holding you in the darkness, he tells you he loves you more than anyone or anything and promises to protect you—always.

ASMODEUS

Asmodeus takes pleasure in the praise of his adoring fans, their compliments and gifts are one of the best parts of his day. He craves their undivided love and attention, enjoying the feel of their eyes on him, enraptured by his ethereal beauty. There are demons who vigorously pursue him, going to great lengths to capture his heart, though it belongs to you, skipping a beat each time the thought of you enters his mind. He notices the jealous gazes that fall upon you as they wish they stood at his side instead, fantasizing they’re the object of his affection, not you. No one can replace you; his love for you is unrivaled. However, he finds their envy entertaining, relishing the fact he’s so passionately sought after, fanning the flames of desire. Demons stare heatedly at the two of you, the lights of The Fall accentuating his radiance; he’s a diamond, positively glowing. 

Snaking an arm about your waist, he draws you close to whisper how adorable you look, his lips brushing against your ear. Your skin is warm and your mouth parts in a breathy sigh the moment he kisses you, hands sliding beneath your shirt to rest at the small of your back. He can feel your heart racing as you shyly touch him, your innocence captivating the Avatar of Lust. Temptation urges him to lead you away from prying eyes, appreciating all his human has to offer in privacy, until he tastes blood on his tongue, choking on the bitterness of it. Pulling away, he barely manages to catch you, dismayed by the gaping wound now marring your flesh. Through his tears, he glares at the demon that stands behind you, fingers wound tightly around the hilt of a blade tainted by your blood. They declare their undying love for him, expressing relief and happiness at getting rid of the competition—they hurt you to get to him. Asmodeus wants nothing more than to escape the Hell he’s forced to endure, for once resenting any love that’s not yours.

The club comes to a standstill. His anger is tangible, hanging thickly in the air, the crowd watching in awe at the dark beauty that is Asmodeus, wings arching gracefully and the sweet scent of roses encircling him, entrancing those in his presence. He begrudgingly leaves your side, promising to return, chest tightening at the sight of you, his poor fragile human. The demon is on their knees, proclaiming their love so all can hear. His stomach churns in disgust; he’s heard enough. Wrenching the knife out of their grip, he drives it straight into their heart, watching their body drop to the ground. He carefully gathers you in his arms, walking into the cool Devildom night. The breeze tousles your hair, moonlight shining on your eerily pale face. Holding you as if his life depends on it, he makes the excruciating trek back to the House of Lamentation, praying this nightmare comes to an end. He’s beyond grateful your injuries aren’t fatal, yet he continues to sob, crawling into bed next to you. In the darkness of your room, he tells you you’re loved, apologizing, hoping you’ll forgive him once you awake.  

BEELZEBUB

Beelzebub smiles to himself, taking pleasure in the delectable aroma of the lavish meal spread before him. Hunger overwhelms the Avatar of Gluttony, the emptiness filling his stomach particularly strong following an exhausting but rewarding workout. Hell’s Kitchen never fails to satiate his appetite, and your company proves to be the cherry on top, his eyes catching yours from across the room while you tend to the customers, causing his grin to widen in unbridled joy. He considers himself lucky to have you as his server, giving him the chance to talk to you when you stop by his table. A blush warms his cheeks at your touch, your fingers brushing along his lips to wipe away the crumbs on his face. He laughs, and you smile in return; he wishes to taste the sweetness of it, the craving difficult to ignore.

Gathering his used plates, he watches you disappear behind the kitchen doors, absentmindedly shoving a forkful of food into his mouth. He hums happily, wondering what he’ll order for dessert, drool dribbling down his chin as his thoughts return to you, the sweetest treat in the restaurant—no—the entire Devildom. Angry shouts startle him, and he nearly chokes, glancing up to see you thrown into the wall, dishes and food strewn about the floor. A demon hovers above you menacingly, your apologies drowned out by their incessant shrieking; Beelzebub’s fork clatters to his feet at the commotion. His demonic instincts take possession of him, the table overturning the second he stands, wings propelling him forward until he wedges himself between you and the lowly demon he glowers down at, their bones shattering after they connect with the hardened muscles of his abs. Beelzebub growls.

The demon pleads for forgiveness, though Beelzebub is merciless, enjoying the satisfying pop of their arm dislodging from the socket as he pulls them back and throws them through the wall, leaving behind a gaping hole in the building; a heavy silence hangs in the air, the patrons and staff avoiding his gaze. Dust settles around them, the aftershocks making the ceiling lamps sway, and the door fall off its hinges. He pays no mind, gently picking you up to hold you protectively against his chest. Your body trembles, bloody cuts and scrapes covering your skin, yet you look at him in adoration, showering him with words of gratitude. He chuckles, merely thankful you’re safe in his arms; he’s not planning to let you go any time soon either. Stepping over the debris, he escorts you home, carefully tending to your injuries in the privacy of your room where the two of you whisper your love for one another. His hunger is long forgotten, replaced by an unusual fullness as he kisses you, his heart overflowing with emotion.

BELPHEGOR

Belphegor’s heart stops when he hears you scream out in pain, falling to the floor at his feet. On instinct, he kneels beside you, arms pulling you into his protective embrace. He barely registers his own voice echoing in his ears, choking on your name in his desperation and fear. Blood stains your skin and his hands, slipping through trembling fingers despite his best efforts to staunch the flow. Your body grows limp, losing its familiar warmth, and his hope begins to vanish with it, the crushing weight of emptiness snaking its way into his soul. His gaze trails over the dark bruises on your neck to the blood at the corner of your mouth, tears clouding his vision and dampening your cheeks the moment he feels your pulse fade out under his touch. 

Despair consumes him, his cries turning into howls of rage that shake the walls and shatter windows, unadulterated demonic energy rolling off him in waves. Looking up into the arrogant face of the demon who murdered you without mercy, he stiffens upon finding his own eyes staring back at him, an impish smile contorting his features. Your blood is on his hands, beneath his nails, splattered across his clothes. His doppelganger laughs at his stunned expression, tail flicking in amusement. Belphegor wonders if this is what you saw the day you freed him, the thought leaving him nauseated. Growling, he lunges forward to wipe that disgusting smirk from his lips as he wraps his hands around the Avatar of Sloth’s neck, tightening his grip until the bones give way, body sagging in defeat. He deserves far worse for hurting you. 

The sound of his name diverts his attention, the world melting away around him, and he blinks in the dim light of the attic. Your face comes into focus above him, brows furrowed in worry. It takes him a second to gather his bearings, realizing your gentle fingers are wiping away his tears and brushing back his hair, his chest constricting at the sight of you alive. Sitting up, he draws you against him, savoring the heat of your body. He’s relieved when you simply hold him in return, allowing him to sob into the crook of your neck. Belphegor wants to apologize, to thank you for giving him a second chance although he never earned it, yet the words die on his tongue. Instead, he kisses you, pouring every ounce of the love he holds for you into the gesture. No one will hurt you again; that’s a promise he intends to keep.

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #lucifer #mammon #leviathan #satan #asmodeus #beelzebub #belphegor #obey me x reader #obey me x you #obey me x mc #reader insert #noelle writes

[sister-lucifer]

Goodnight, Darling 

Lucifer x Gender Neutral Reader 

Summary: Reader cant sleep, so they decide to go find Lucifer 

Genre: Fluff 

Content/Warnings: Lucifer and Reader already have a bit of a relationship but it’s mostly implied, Luci being sweet, very eepy reader

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

You’re not sure what time it is now, and you don’t care to turn over and check. The only sound in your room is the rain thundering down from the night sky, tapping on your window in a soft, erratic rhythm. It’s dark, but not too dark, a bit of light can still reach you from the hallway. Your blankets are as comfortable as ever, thick but not heavy and just warm enough. It’s the most ideally peaceful environment you could ever imagine. 

So why aren’t you asleep?

You’ve been asking yourself that for almost an hour now. By all means, you should’ve been out like a light. You spent all day today running errands and scampering around to do all those things you didn’t have time to this week. You’re exhausted. 

So why. Aren’t. You. Asleep?!

You groan in frustration and stretch out a bit before turning onto your side. You stare at the wall for a few moments, wondering what else you could do. 

It’s too late to make tea, you’ll make too much of a ruckus in the kitchen.

The only melatonin in the house is used by Asmodeus, and he guards his beauty sleep with his life. There’s no way you could sneak into his room. 

It’s probably not a good idea to do any sort of engaging activity, that’ll just wake you up more. 

Nothing, nothing, nothing. Maybe you’re doomed to just lay here until the end of time. You’re starting to wonder if you pissed off one of the brothers enough for them to curse you. 

Wait. 

One of the brothers… 

There’s an idea. 

Before you can stop yourself you’re out of bed and on the ground, carrying a blanket with you on the way. You waste no time getting out of that stale room, and soon you’ve started down the hallway. Your feet patter softly on the pristine tile floors, and the only other noise is the rain coming down outside and video game soundtrack from behind Levi’s closed door. It’s definitely bedtime in the House of Lamentation. 

As you pass by the rooms of the younger brothers, you debate for a split second stopping by each of them, but you don’t. Levi won’t be going to sleep any time soon, Mammon sleep talks, Asmodeus is too stingy about his beauty sleep, Satan kicks in his sleep, and the twins’ unbearable snoring will certainly keep you awake. 

But that’s alright. You’re not looking for any of them. You’re headed for the red door at the end of the hall that’s cracked open just slightly, allowing some soft lamp light to leak out. 

You knew he’d still be awake. 

You press your palm to the door and gently push it open, the soft creaking alerting Lucifer to your presence. He looks up from the book he’s reading in bed, quirking a brow upon your appearance.

“…Human?” He questions, but he doesn’t seem unhappy to see you in the slightest.

“What are you doing here? At this hour, no less.” 

“I’m alright,” You assure him, shutting the door behind you, “I just can’t sleep.” 

He gives a nod of understanding. 

“I see. And you think I can help with that?” 

“Mhm,” You reply simply. You walk up to Lucifer’s bedside, not saying anything but silently asking for his attention with just a look. You clutch the blanket you brought to your chest, making your intentions clear. 

Lucifer sighs. 

He looks at you for a long few moments, and you almost think he’s going to say no. 

But then he marks his page, shuts his book, and sets it on the beside table. He opens his arms and pats the bed next to him. 

“Come on.” 

A tired smile breaks out on your face, and you eagerly crawl into bed next to Lucifer. You fit perfectly up against his side, and his warmth is the perfect sense of comfort in the cold HoL. You curl up a bit, trying to get as close to him as possible. He wraps an arm around you as you pull your blanket over yourself, sighing with content when you finally, truly feel like you could fall asleep. 

“…Comfortable?” Lucifer asks. You only nod in reply. You don’t see it, but he smiles at you before he leans down to kiss your head. He reaches over to turn off the lamp before making himself comfortable as well, though he’s careful not to disturb you. 

After a few moments, you feel him stop moving, and your eyes slowly fall shut. 

“Goodnight, Lucifer…” You say softly. 

“Goodnight,” He replies in kind. 

“I love you,” You add without thinking.

And then there’s silence. For a second your eyes open, and you worry that maybe that wasn’t the right thing to say. Lucifer inhales slowly before finally giving his answer.

“…I love you too,” He says, giving you a little squeeze. 

You relax completely at that, your eyes shutting one more. You lay there only a moment or two before finally, finally, you can feel yourself falling asleep.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #lucifer #lucifer obey me #obey me lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer x reader fluff #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer fluff #obey me fluff #obey me x reader #fluff #gender neutral reader #obey me x gender neutral reader

[theapangea]

Hanging on the Telephone

Lip Gallagher x innocent!reader

Part of the Every Little Touch Series

Summary: Phone sex with Lip Gallagher

W/C: 2k

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI!!! Male and female masturbation

A/N: I know I've been MIA but here is a little Lip smut for making you wait so long you little pervs ;). This was a fun one to write and maybe there will be a part two to this story! This is part of my Every Little Touch Series with Lip x innocent!reader. My requests is currently closed but when it does open please feel free to suggest any ideas you have for this story or another one. Love you cuties!! <3

Finally you murmur, shuffling your snow covered boots through the carpeted floor. Struggling to strip your coat and shoes off at the same time. Trying to work quickly as the stale air of the house makes you start to sweat under your several layers.

Eyes sleepy, heavy, ready to collapse onto themselves as the coat and boots are soon forgotten about, taking the last several steps to your bed before plopping face first into the mattress. The plush blanket muffling your scream as you release all the built up stress from the stupid little day you are having. Though the scream seems not to be working.

Rolling over onto your back, arms laying delicately over your mid section. Eyes fixated on the ceiling, the weight on your shoulders grows heavy as the strain builds behind your eyes making it tougher to breathe. Cursing silently at your stupid, sad, pathetic fucking life. A small stream of tears trickle down your temples, squeezing your eyes sharply together, wishing everything and everyone away. 

Just need a little peace.

Just need a little release.

Taking a deep, slow breath as you let your mind wander. Rubbing your thighs together, the buzzing runs through your thoughts, suddenly landing on Lip. His causoled fingers running down your delicate skin. Absentmindedly touching the same spots he did while you continue to let your mind run wild. 

Breath hitches as your fingers grace the lining of your jeans. Arching your back as you imagine Lip placing small kisses down the side of your neck, a trail of wet warmth and deep bruising. Not really thinking much into what you are actually doing. But you missed his touch, even if you have only felt it once. Missed the way he made you feel, wanting to feel that way every single day of your life. Desperately wanting to feel that release again, wanting him to send you over the edge. 

The vibrating in your back pocket makes you jump from your skin. Almost as if someone has caught you in the act of thinking about the shared moment with Lip and what that would ultimately lead to. 

Lifting your hips in the air, your toes digging into the carpet as your hand struggles to grip the small device from the bottom of your pocket. The vibration is still buzzing, sending a quivering through your body. Finally pulling the device free, flipping the phone open to see Lip’s name displayed on the small screen and behind it a blurry picture you took of him on last year’s school trip to Cloud Gate (the big shiny bean in Chicago).

Instantly pushing the answer button and placing the phone to your ear. A half-whisper greeting escapes you as you wiggle your way to the top of your bed. Feeling a little embarrassed to be talking to Lip after you almost let yourself get off on the thought of him.

“Whatcha doing?’ Lip questions from the other end, you can hear the brush of smoke that hits the receiver.

“Currently,” Pausing for dramatic effect, “Succumbing to my self loathing, waiting for the universe to end it all.” You force out a life to make light of the situation.

His low chuckle as a response sends a shiver through your body, igniting the fire that grows between your legs. 

A smile lamenting itself firming onto your face. Lip has that effect on you, making this life feel a little less lonely. “And what might the famous Lip Gallagher be doing right now?” You ask, picking at the dirt underneath your nails. 

“Ya’know, just been thinking.”

“About what?” You inquire, hoping you already know the answer.

Stuttering over his words as he tries to form them into sentences, feeling a bump in his throat as he doesn’t know exactly how to say it, “Ab-about the other d-day…about you.”

Heat rises immediately to your cheeks, a full breath filling your lungs until they burn. A huge smile engulfing your features as you silently giggle to yourself. Happy beyond belief that he was thinking about you. 

“Yeah?” Is all you can muster to say as the air has fully exited your chest, leaving you laying there, basking in the bliss.

Carding a hand through his messy hair as he takes another drag of his cigarette. Lip’s body sprawled out over his bed as his voice hitches, “Can’t stop thinking about it.”

The words are music to your ears as you happily tap your feets against the soft comforter. He’s been thinking about you, thinking about what you both did together and he’s talking to you about it. 

“Have you been thinking about it?” He speaks softly into the phone, finally realizing that you have been silent a little too long.

“Maybe…” You’re a little embarrassed to admit it. Not because you didn’t want it to happen or that you are embarrassed of Lip in any way. You’ve just never been comfortable talking about any form of sex or pleasure before, especially talking about it with someone else. 

Another puff of smoke hits the receiver as you can hear Lip shift on the other end, “Any particular part?” He hums.

You’re hesitant at first, doing this stuff in person is one thing but having to talk about it is a whole other beast you’d never thought you’d have to overcome. But you want to talk about it with Lip, he makes you feel comfortable and wanted. He makes this experience way less scary than you had originally thought.

“Your hands,” You finally confess, the heat rising rapidly to your cheeks as you pull your legs to your chest, doing anything to hide.

He purrs against the receiver. “Where? Deep inside of you?”

“Lip.” You whine, embarrassed that he just said that out loud. He speaks about this stuff so plainly and bluntly that you almost don’t know how to act. Almost as if he gets a kick out of seeing you embarrassed.

“That’s exactly what I’ve been thinking about.” The words are heaven, laced in pure silk running perfectly over your body as the thought of Lip thinking about the way you felt under his grasp, the way his fingers curled expertly inside of you, the way you tasted, all innocent and pure. He can’t help not thinking about the way you relaxed under his touch and how he desperately wants to do it again. “Do you still feel that itch?”

The heat has not subsided yet from your cheeks as he keeps talking about it and you have to admit that the itch has truly never gone away. It was just in a deep little part of your brain, eagerly waiting for Lip to let it out. 

You hum as you stretch your legs out in front of you, squeezing your thighs together again.

“Like right now?”

Especially now.

“Are you going to do anything about it?” He questions. 

You huff, “I’m not really sure what to do.” You have to admit out loud which seems so silly at the moment. 

“It’s okay,” his tone is subtle, “‘member what I showed you?” 

Closing your eyes as his words whisper your mind into the amazing memory that you two share together. You could swear that you are currently there now, wrapped in Lip’s arms as he rubs your core into ecstasy. 

You hum against the phone, your tone is whiny as your other hand grabs at the rough fabric of your jeans. 

“Just touch yourself like that, tell me what you’re doing, how you’re feeling.” His voice calms you down.

Shaking your head as you murmur over the line, “Ok.”

Stumbling over your words as you struggle to take off your jeans while laying in bed, “I-I’m taking off m-my je-jeans…come on.” You angrily whisper to your jeans as you push them off.

Lip laughs on the other end at your struggle, able to picture you perfectly as the sounds of muffling come over the receiver. 

“I’m in my panties now.” You say to him.

He laughs again, this time more from the chest.

“Don’t laugh at me.” You whine, “I’m new to this.”

“Do you want me to talk instead?” He suggests.

“Yes, please,” You breathe a sigh of relief. Blessing that you won’t embarrass yourself any further. 

“One sec then,” Lip says before the phone goes silent. Jumping up quickly to rip off his shirt and jeans before grabbing the phone again, relaxing into the mattress. Lip’s hand is instantly on his cock when he gets back on the phone with you. “Ready.” He’s barely able to get out his words as his touch sends electricity through his body.

The pre-cum dripping slightly from his pulsing tip onto his stomach. He doesn't know how long he will last, his imagination has been getting him through the days, desperately wanting to touch every part of you, know every single detail.

You lightly breath out the word yeah, biting your lip in anticipation of what's to come next. 

“Slip your hand under your panties.” His almost demanding tone falls delicately on your ears. 

Your hand slips underneath your white, cotton panties. Fingers trailing over your mound, hesitant to touch too close to your burning center. A single whimper escapes you as you stop just short on meeting your needs.

“Good girl. Now touch that pretty little clit of yours for me.” Lip’s voice is paradise, guiding you on this journey of self-discovery. Begging, pleading for you to just slip your finger between your folds. 

The electric jolt of pleasure bursts through your body as your middle finger grazes over your sensitive nub. You whine heavily into the phone. Lip returns with a groan of his own, happily pleasuring himself, your whimpers are addicting as he strokes his aching cock. 

“How does it feel?” He purrs.

“Amazing.” Your chest falls as you sink a finger deeper between your folds, delicately teasing your entrance like Lip did before. Imagining that it’s his finger dipping graciously into your burning core. 

“But not as good as when I do it?” He questions, his words teasing you.

“Definitely not.” Grinding against your fingers, the confidence begins to trickle in as you try to talk dirty to him, “I wish it was you…touching me, your fingers deep inside of me.” Curling a finger into your dripping hole, struggling to accommodate your own finger this time. 

Adding more pressure to his grip as Lip’s hand falls down his length. Buckling his hips as he groans when you call his name, knowing that your holes are filled because of him. 

Lip’s name whispers from your mouth, between moans, whimper after whimper as he tells you to pick up speed, pumping your fingers deeper inside of your burning core. Back arching, fingers losing rhythm as you gasp one final time. White, hot flames filling your bloodstream as you scream Lip’s name into your empty room, cumming intensely onto your soaked fingers.

Lip follows you as he pumps faster and more rapidly as you say you’re picking up speed, face contorting into pure pleasure as one last pump sends him over the edge. The perfect white liquid shooting from his cock, landing onto his stomach. Stroking a couple more times as his breathes even out and a small laugh departs his lips

Your chest is heavy when the world starts to fall into place again. Cumming with you was absolutely the best sexual experience Lip has ever had.

The phone is quiet for a couple beats, neither of you knowing what to say or how to continue. 

And before either of you can continue a conversation, banging on the door from Lip’s end pulls you back to reality, “Lip, you're wastin’ all the minutes.” Fiona loudly calls from the other side of his locked door.

“Shit,” Lip curses from the other end, “I’ll see you at school tomorrow, ‘kay?” 

He hangs up with a quick goodbye.

And then it was reality staring you right in the face when you realized that you’d have to face Lip at school tomorrow. Fuck. 

~~~

Let me know what you think!! My replies don't work but I am more than happy to talk to you in my inbox or messages. Thank you for supporting me !! I LOVE YOU!!!

#lip gallagher imagine #lip gallagher smut #lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher #shameless x reader #lip gallagher fanfic #lip gallagher x you #every little touch series #theapangea

[charliemwrites]

Hello, hello! Per ceilidh's request - a Soap x Reader ficlet from the prompt thingy.

#11 "You tricked me."

I was heavily inspired by that tiktok sound (iykyk)

Rating: M CW/TW: brief/vague torture, threat of SA (doesn't happen), manipulation, dark!Soap

Being a medium in the military isn’t that much different from being a medium anywhere else.

The rules are roughly the same. Don’t talk to ghosts in living company. Don’t join idiotic 2am summoning circles. Try to help the ones you can; try not to lose sleep over the ones you can’t.

Oddly, there aren’t as many ghosts on a base as any given suburban house. Depends on the base, of course, but a reassuring number of former-military souls continue to their final rest. Even if their bodies (or parts of it) don’t make it back, tags and a symbolic burial usually suffice.

The 141’s main base only has a handful. A few you’ve already gotten closure for, sent off into the beyond. The others you’re working on, or already know they’re a lost cause. Most of them are even friendly!

There’s a corporal that haunts the mess and laments mashed potatoes. A captain appears in Price’s office occasionally, his residual energy glaring down at reports and rustling at phantom papers. On the range, you sometimes speak to the ghost of a prostitute murdered by some piece of shite back in ye olde times. She doesn’t talk back – can’t with a crushed windpipe – but she smiles when you have the privacy to acknowledge her.

Your favorite, though, is Johnny. He’s a comparatively new spirit, by your estimate. Lots of energy, still coherent. You can’t tell how he died by looking at him, but that’s not unusual. It could have been internal bleeding, or a stroke despite his youth. He won’t tell you his last name despite all your asking, always just laughs.

“Yer no’ gettin’ rid o’ me tha easily!”

He always lays the Scottish accent on in a thick velvet blanket. You want to wrap yourself up in it.

Yes, the rules for being a medium are the same, even on a military base. The main one: don’t get haunted by feelings.

That was never a concern, never even a thought, until Johnny. Until you caught his eye around Price’s shoulder during your introductory tour. He followed you for hours, interjecting little asides that put your selective hearing to the test. Always orbited just close enough to send chills down your spine and goosebumps up your arm.

You confronted him when you’d finally been dismissed back to your barrack, whirling around as he popped his mohawked head through the door. Despite yourself, you made quick friends with him.

He’s an unusual ghost. Doesn’t seem tied to a particular place or thing on base. Isn’t trapped along the same paths he walked in life. He’s always solid or near solid, doesn’t waver at certain times of day. You’re utterly charmed by his unorthodoxy, by his miraculous non-existence. And by the fact that, while he knows your secret – as all spirits do – he seems more intrigued than solicitous.

It's not that you blame other ghosts – the coherent ones – for wanting help. It’s torturous to toe that line, not alive but not at peace. Stuck and dwindling little by little. You can’t imagine what it feels like, but you can sense from some that it’s frightening, and cold. No, you’re not bothered that they ask for help. Or with the ones that are just angry; they have every reason to be.

Johnny, though… he’s special. You don’t feel so alone with him, even if the room looks like it to an outsider.

“Oh, aye, that’s pure dead brilliant. You know they’re sending you to Russia?”

You flick Johnny a glance. He’s leaning over Price’s shoulder, peering at the briefing docket that’s actively being explained. You don’t mind the extra or early info. Saved your ass a couple times before.

Your lack of response ruffles his feathers though. He stalks through the table to Gaz, flicks his pen right off the surface. You snort softly as he curses under his breath and ducks to retrieve it, trying not to interrupt Price. You make eye contact with Johnny, blink and minutely shake your head. He can see the twitching at the corners of your mouth anyway.

He smirks and wades through solid objects back to you. His presence looms behind your shoulder, an uneasy flicker at the edge of your consciousness. Like this he seems bigger, inhuman beyond ghostliness. Rougher and darker in the corner of your vision. You’ve done a double-take and gotten teased for skittishness enough times by now to quell the urge to check. It’s always just Johnny.

You’re paired with your lieutenant, Ghost. He’ll be watching with his sniper while you’re on infil. Usually, you’re paired with Gaz, but he and Roach will be at the other end of the compound taking out a target.

When the team is dismissed, Ghost only pauses long enough to give you a nod before skulking off. Not unusual for him; you take no offense. Johnny, however, is scowling something fierce after him.

For whatever reason, he’s never been a fan of your LT. The one time you asked, the lights started flickering and Johnny dismissed the question with a sharp “just don’t like him.”

You suspect that it’s because Ghost was your mentor when you joined the 141. The two of you spent the majority of your time together, training you up to run with the rest of the squad. Due to his constant proximity, your ability to respond to Johnny was greatly hindered.

Still is with how observant Ghost is. Have almost blown your cover several times and had to really watch yourself, and your reactions. You think Johnny might resent him for that.

Back in your barrack, though, Johnny happily chatters while you gear up for the mission. Base gossip and bits of intel he shouldn’t know and shouldn’t tell you. It’s standard ritual for you two; he likes to talk, and you’re accustomed to listening. You hum in the right places, storing tidbits away for your own amusement later.

A playful tug to your bitch-strap makes you yelp, then laugh when you catch Johnny’s grin. He does it again, loosening one of the buckles on your thigh. You swat him uselessly, retightening it only for him to pluck at your bootlaces while you’re occupied. He’s got so much energy, for a ghost. So adept at interacting with the physical world.

“Quit it!” you giggle, trying to dodge his darting hands.

“Why should I?” he chuckles. You curse as he gets a finger in your harness and jerks, misaligning it with the rest of your gear.

“I’ll banish you,” you lie, wriggling various straps back into place.

“Oh, sweet girl, it would take a lot more than you’ve got to get rid of me now.”

It’s an odd turn of phrase for him, but it’s the tone that draws your gaze. There’s an unfamiliar, inky darkness in his voice that pools in the pit of your stomach. You frown, open your mouth to ask what he means. But just like that, his electric smile is back, eyebrows arching as he nods to your bedside clock.

“You’re gonna be late.”

“Shit!” You snatch up your backpack and fling it across your shoulders. “I’m gonna kill you, Johnny!”

“Can’t kill something that isn’t alive,” he cackles as you sweep out the door.

You make it the transport just short of reprimand, though that doesn’t stop Ghost from narrowing his eyes as you duck into your seat. Gaz has already started a lively conversation with Roach, and Price is staying back this time.

You miss Johnny already. He may not be trapped in any particular part of the base, but he can’t come with you on missions or leave. The spaces where he’s absent feel colder and quieter. Everything seems just a bit… off. A song missing an instrument, a rainbow lacking one color.

You’re not sure when that started happening, when Johnny became such a vital part of how you perceive the rest of the world. When did longing for him become a chronic illness?

“Focus up!” Ghost barks in your ear.

You blink, shake your head, and take stock bewildered. Gone is the transport and the rest of your team. It’s just you now, hidden behind a generator, presumably about to infiltrate the target.

How?

When you try to recall, you have vague recollections of exiting the transport. Hiking to the compound. Splitting off with a few parting words amongst the lot of you. It feels watery at the edges, more of a vivid dream than a waking memory.

“Yessir.” It jumps instinctively from your tongue while you flex your cold fingers, trying to coax the nerves back to life.

You take a deep breath – lungs aching like you’ve held your breath too long – and continue with the mission. There’s no room for error now, or idle daydreams of noncorporeal men with wicked smiles.

The building is only three stories and you’re not meant to clear it. Just get to the server room, collect the information, and slip away with minimal enemy contact.

Maybe that’s why you don’t realize that something is wrong at first. You’re supposed to be avoiding guards, so you don’t notice the lack of them. Things do go right, sometimes, the intel can be good.

But it’s the quiet the finally prickles at your awareness. You may be more attuned to the dead, but you have a sense for the living as well. Always made you the worst to play hide and seek with. Now, you can feel that this building is vacant, deprived of any souls.

“LT, something is wrong,” you whisper, frozen mid-step.

“What is it?” he asks.

“It’s too quiet.”

To his credit, he doesn’t dismiss you immediately. “How?”

“I think the building is empty. Have you seen anyone?”

“Negative.” A pause as he considers, maybe scans the other windows for signs of occupation. “Sit tight, I’ll update Price.”

There’s barely a heartbeat before you hear distant gunfire. Too much and too soon for the plan. Roach and Gaz weren’t supposed to neutralize the target until you were collecting intel.

“Fuck,” Ghost snarls. “Get out of there!”

You’re already sprinting for the stairwell. Nearly pop your ankles leaping down, boot treads catching on the edge of steps. No one is chasing you, but your team needs help. Gaz is shouting in your ear, the channels reconnected for ease of communication. The situation is devolving quickly and violently.

“Almost there,” you report.

Your foot hits the last landing before the ground floor when the building explodes.

---

It takes three tries to get your vision focused. There’s not much to see once you do. A concrete room tinted by bare yellow halogen. There’s a drain in the floor just in front of you and old blood dried in the corners. It smells like rust, infection, and despair. Your head pounds; your entire body aches. Being tied to a metal chair doesn’t help the post-explosion soreness.

You’ve been stripped down to your fatigues, no boots. There isn’t a door in any of the three walls you can see, so it must be positioned behind you.

Confirmation comes about a minute later. Three sets of boots entering your little box. Only one of them walks into your line of sight; a mean-looking man with face tattoos and a gold tooth. He asks if you speak Russian, and though you do, you spew a string of English profanities and threats at him. The backhand you get in return says he understood you.

The questions start as soon as he switches to English. They want information; they always do. What you had been sent to collect and why. Who Roach and Gaz were sent for and why. You don’t speak a word. Even when the pain starts, and then doesn’t stop. You lose track of time, the head injury floating you on the edge of consciousness within the first thirty minutes.

Hours – days? – later, the man takes a step back, a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

“It’s alright,” he tells you, “I like taking my time, and we have plenty. Your friends think you are dead.”

That, you think through the haze, is probably true. You thought you were dead too.

“Perhaps next time we try something… else,” he muses, running a finger down your neck. “You are not as pretty now, but… prettier than you will be later, da?”

Ice forms in the pit of your stomach and climbs up your spine. It was always on the table, you know that, but facing it is something else.

Whatever expression you’re making seems to satisfy him, because he laughs heartily and finally leaves you alone.

Alone, with the promise of his next visit looming.

You squeeze your eyes shut. There’s a dripping sound nearby that you realize, vaguely, is your own blood. Maybe you’ll bleed out before he comes back. You time your breaths with it, using it as a count to get your wild and unsteady heart under control.

Reality washes over you in waves. There is no escape. Your team thinks you’re dead. Eventually, you will break and/or die. You might even become a ghost, join the collective that darkens the edges of this very room, a thing of pain and fear and rage without any coherency or singular will.

You didn’t even give Johnny a proper goodbye.

That somehow hurts the worst. Johnny, hearing second-hand that you’ll never make it back. No one to mourn with him, to offer any comfort. He’ll be alone with grief and then beyond, no one to tell his jokes or stories to.

You miss him more fiercely than you ever have. Part of you is glad he isn’t here. You know him, know he’d be too stubborn to leave you. He’d stay and watch, helpless, as you were tortured and killed. It would tear you apart to do that to him even though it wouldn’t be your own choice.

But… an awful, selfish part of you longs for him. Even just being able to see or hear him would soften the pain and fear. Would make this hell on earth almost bearable. You want to leave this world with Johnny whispering in your ear, maybe even join him when your body finally goes cold.

Given the choice, you would want him here.

You want Johnny. No, you need him. Regret ever leaving him behind, even though he couldn’t come with you. You’d do anything to change that now; anything to be with him again.

Anything?

It’s an unbidden thought, almost intrusive. Doesn’t even feel like yourself asking.

“Anything,” you whisper aloud, just to hear something other than your own despair. “Johnny…”

“You called?”

You jolt, head snapping up so fast it makes you dizzy. The world spins but he’s there, right there, crouching in front of you, arms balanced on his knees.

“Johnny?” you whisper.

Were you closer to the brink than you thought? Is this some sort of final hallucination as you slip into death?

“In the flesh.” He tilts his head, snorts. “Well, in a manner.”

“How…?” you ask, eyes already stinging.

“Told ya, you called. I’d never – hey, now, hey. No need for all that,” he soothes. He wipes the tears from your face. You can feel the warmth in his fingers. “This is a happy occasion.”

You huff in watery amusement, shaking your head. “Did you lose your glasses when you died? I wouldn’t call this celebration-worthy.”

His eyes scan over you, flicker dark. “It will be, don’t you worry.”

You blink, try to focus. Exhaustion and injury and chemical rush are making it difficult, but you know things are off. He shouldn’t be here, least of all because you called. And… something else too. Something in the way he’s holding his shoulders and the twitching around his expression. 

“Johnny, really,” you say, “why are you here?”

“You offered me anything, and I’m here to collect.”

Between one blink and the next, his eyes are black. Pitch black, from corner to corner. You suck in a breath, try to jerk back but there’s nowhere to go.

His grin is sharp enough to cut yourself on.

“I’ve been waiting for that,” he sighs.

He leans in, lips parting. His tongue rolls out, long and split at the tip. Licks a luxurious, burning trail from your chin to your temple. You make a sound borne of confused pleasure and fear, high in the back of your throat.

He shushes you, plants a slow kiss at the corner of your mouth. “My brave little lass, finally offering herself to the demon she’s been courting.”

The word bounces against the walls of your cell and burrows into your brain. Demon, demon, demon.

Johnny is…

“You tricked me,” you sob.

He cocks his head, onyx eyes soft with avarice. “Tricked you? No, angel, I’m saving you.”

His hands pet over the cruel ties around your ankles. The itch of them digging into your skin falls away. Gentle thumbs rub circles over the imprints the left behind. Hope and relief pounds hard in your chest.

“I’m only taking what you so willingly and enthusiastically offered,” he explains in hushed awe. Like you’ve given him such a wonderful gift, the greatest gift. Suppose you have.

“I’m going to take such good care of you,” he croons. His arms wrap around you, almost like a hug. His fingertips trace down your bruised arms to the cuffs biting your wrists. Those too fall away, and you find yourself reaching for him so quickly, folding into his chest, free of that wretched chair.

“There’s my girl,” he murmurs, a hand curling into blood and sweat soaked tangles.

“It… it is you, right?” you ask. “You’re my Johnny?”

“Always, angel,” he replies, “it’s always been me. I will always be yours. All you have to do is say yes.”

You tilt your head back, catch the wicked curve of fangs as he speaks. He smells like heat and woodsmoke.

“Yes to what?” you ask.

“To everything,” he answers, deep and rough. “You offered anything, and I want all of you.”

You should say no, you should throw yourself away from him.

There is not an inch of your mind or body that wants to leave the safety of his arms. This is Johnny, your Johnny, hellfire and all.

“And… in return,” you venture, “I get… you?”

“Eternally.”

Then it really doesn’t need much more thought.

“Yes. Please.”

“Good girl.”

#my writing #fanfiction #john soap mactavish #reader fic #cod #writing prompts #demon!soap #soap x reader

[leviachansbaka]

kissing your cheek

headcanon, all characters x gn ! reader, fluff

lucifer

Lucifer has been watching you for a while. You've been working so hard lately, trying to help the Student Council out, keeping up with classes, and looking after everyone. Isn't it tiring? After you accidentally fall asleep in the living room, Lucifer approaches you quietly, covering you with his coat and softly placing a kiss on your cheek. Lucifer finds your sleeping face soothing. He could admire you forever.

mammon

Mammon can't stand you hanging around others so much at RAD. It's clear they're interested in you, but you keep insisting on giving them the time of the day. And by now, it should be clear to everyone that you're his and only his. Before going back to the House of Lamentation, Mammon shyly kisses your cheek. He loves you dearly and wants you to pay more attention to him from now on.

leviathan

You're the best friend an otaku could have. Leviathan loves talking, playing video games, and watching anime with you. To be more specific, he loves spending time with you in general. Your presence brings him a sense of peace and acceptance, something that he would never say to your face. After finally clearing a pretty hard level, Levi excitedly kisses your cheek. He panics and goes completely red after noticing what he just did.

satan

It was a beautiful day outside, and Satan invited you to go on a walk searching for cats with him. Satan loves talking to you throughout the way, regardless of the subject. Your voice is music to his ears, and Satan appreciates you lots. After petting and feeding the cats, the demon surprises you by kissing your cheek. The way you look at his feline friends is so cute to him.

asmodeus

When is Asmo not kissing you? Well, anyways... If you're studying, Asmodeus sneaks behind you and places a soft kiss on your cheek. If you're washing the dishes, Asmo puts his hands around your waist and gives you another peck. If you're scrolling down your cellphone for no reason, Asmodeus pushes you close to him and softly kisses your face. You're probably getting 50 kisses a day, Asmo can't get enough of you, and he has tons of different lipsticks to put to use.

beelzebub

Beel loves you so much, and sometimes he doesn't know how to put his feelings into words. When this happens, he tells you how much he and his brothers appreciate you and makes small loving gestures, such as holding your hand or asking for a hug. One day, after eating Spicy Rainbow Pizza, Beel feels its scent on you. He showers your face with little kisses, hoping to taste what's gone. But he keeps kissing you, since your skin feels very nice to him.

belphegor

Belphie is always snuggling up to you. He finds you so comfortable to use as a pillow. Every time Belphegor wants to annoy or tease you, the lazy demon showers you with kisses. And when he wants you to keep laying around in bed with him, he holds you close, whispering sweet things into your ears while taking breaks to place gentle kisses on your eyelids and cheeks.

diavolo

Making you join the Student Council was one of the best things Diavolo has ever done. This way, he could spend a little more time with you. He loved hearing your opinions as a human, and how your voice sounded was enough to give him the motivation to finish his work. Once no one else is around, he excitedly kisses your cheek when you're expecting the least.

barbatos

Barbatos was used to tending the Hell's Garden by himself, but having you around to keep him some company made everything much better. It was nice seeing how you reacted to seeing different Devildom flowers for the first time. After all, your curiosity never failed to amuse him. He couldn't help but give you a small peck on the cheek.

simeon

After spending the whole day helping Simeon look after Luke (and Solomon, grandpa is unhinged), Simeon goes to prepare some tea while you rest in the living room, accidentally falling asleep. Once he's back, Simeon admires how peaceful you are. Simeon places a gentle kiss on your cheek. He'll let you rest for a little longer.

solomon

No matter how powerful Solomon is, he'll never get tired of asking you to join or help him with his magic experiments. He adores having you around and sharing his knowledge with the human he loves the most, especially when potions, curses, and spells are involved. The Sorcerer mischievously kisses your cheek every time you're not looking.

luke

Joining Luke in his baking classes with Master Barbatos was one of the best things you could have done. Besides spending time with them and entertaining yourself by watching their father-son dynamic, you also got to eat delicious sweets baked by them, isn't it heavenly? Luke excitedly places a small kiss on your and Barbatos' cheek. After all, dogs and kids love to spend time with their families.

thirteen

Everything was an accident, and it wasn't even your fault, but Thirteen was so mad! How come you were walking by when she was trying to kill Solomon for the 5th time today? Can't you see where you're going? Now your faces are too close and- Watching Thirteen turn into a blushing mess was fun, but now you'll have to worry about running away and staying alive.

mephistopheles

You challenged Mephistopheles to kiss you in exchange for some funny photos of Lucifer. It was possible to see the blood rushing to his face, though it was hard to tell if this was happening because he was angry or embarrassed (maybe both?). He quickly kissed your cheek and tried his best to fake a disgusting expression afterward.

raphael

Solomon cooked something *special* and gave it to you as a gift, isn't it wonderful? After you stared at it with a soulless expression for 10 minutes, Raphael's stomach grumbled. The angel wanted a bite of whatever Solomon created, and you offered it to him. Though Raphael is not very expressive, he was pretty happy about the meal and placed a gentle kiss on your cheek as thanks.

#obey me headcanons #obey me x reader #obey me fluff #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me luke #obey me thirteen #obey me mephistopheles #obey me raphael #obey me

[devildom-moss]

Moonlit Bath

(Diavolo x gn!MC)

(NSFW) (slightly submissive Diavolo) (NSFW tags: brief food play, sex in the water, oral, biting, marking, penetration with no condom, creampie, cock warming, outdoor sex, very sweet and gentle, no specifics about MC's genitals which was a bit difficult, but I didn't want to make two versions - maybe next time, though?)

Word Count: +3,600

“Please, Lucifer?” Diavolo was already a full minute into his appeal with no sign of Lucifer giving him an inch.

“No; must I repeat myself again, Diavolo?” Lucifer sighed and set his drink down on the table between them. “I’m not giving you my blessing. You can invite them, and they can accept, but I won’t pretend to be happy about it.”

“Please, reconsider,” Diavolo decided to switch tactics, “MC has been so exhausted recently. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”

Lucifer tensed up. Got him, Diavolo thought. Lucifer leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs, intertwining his fingers and cupping his hands around his knee. “You realize that you’re twisting me into an uncomfortable position, don’t you?”

“Of course,” Diavolo smiled, “so?”

“As I said, you can invite them, and MC is free to go with you. Just make sure they have a good time, alright?”

“Of course,” Diavolo held his hand out to Lucifer, “thank you, Lucifer. I will ensure MC enjoys themselves.”

Lucifer took Diavolo’s hand firmly – aggressively so – and cautioned his friend, “you had better return them in one piece.”

That conversation held behind closed doors preceded Diavolo’s invitation to take you on an overnight trip. He was right about you being exhausted, and it was no surprise that the House of Lamentation had played a part in that. You loved the brothers, but sometimes they drained your energy. So, when Diavolo was gifted two vouchers for an overnight resort, you were the first person on his mind. You deserved a break, and he craved a night alone with you. Although he knew that your decision was all that mattered, he didn’t like the idea of Lucifer being upset with him, and Diavolo knew that Lucifer hated to let you leave his side for longer than a few hours. Having preemptively smoothed things over with Lucifer, Diavolo finished his drink and eagerly sought you out.

“MC, would you be willing to clear your schedule this weekend for me?” Diavolo asked with a childlike grin.

“I can probably manage that, but what do you need me for?”

He presented the voucher to you, “would you go to an overnight resort with me? Each room has gorgeous outdoor baths, and the resort provides guests with a large selection of bath products to enhance the experience. They also have chefs from across the Devildom to provide room service. The resort offers massages, as well. You could relax with me for a full day.”

“Really?” You perked up.

“Of course,” Diavolo laughed, “and if that isn’t enough, the manager informed me that they have small, crow-shaped portable freezers, so you can fill them up with drinks and desserts and enjoy them in the bath. A few gourmet ice cream brands partnered with the resort, so they have the best options.”

You pulled Diavolo into a hug, “you had me at overnight resort, but that all sounds amazing! I’d love to go with you! Thank you so much.”

Diavolo chuckled and picked you up in his arms, twirling you around. He couldn’t look away from that smile – it was as if the invitation itself had rejuvenated you. Anticipation rose in his chest: a whole day alone with you where you could just enjoy yourself around him. If you could feel at peace with him, he would be the happiest demon in all three realms. He couldn’t resist peppering kisses all over your face.

“I promise you’ll have a good time,” you could feel the joy in his words and the smile on his lips as he kissed down your neck. He pulled away from you reluctantly, a slight pout on his lips, “but for now, I have to head back to the castle. Barbatos won’t let me so much as leave my office this weekend if I don’t get my work done on time, so I need to get that done for you.”

“My prince,” you kissed him once more to hold him over. “Work hard. I won’t slack off either, so we can enjoy this weekend together.”

Diavolo’s chest flooded with affection. He bit his lip, wondering if you would allow him to be greedy with you, “can I have one more kiss? Please?”

“Yes, my little prince,” you placed a soft kiss on his lips. “Now, get your work done.”

You both kept your ends of the deal, and when Diavolo drove up to the House of Lamentation that Saturday morning, no one could deter you from getting into that car. The drive was relaxing in its own way, and it gave you an opportunity to stare at Diavolo all you wanted. He could see you watching him from the corner of his eyes, and it took all the restraint he had not to pull the car over in some scenic location and fuck you right there – or let you fuck him. He didn’t really care, so long as he could touch you.

It was a quarter past noon when you checked in. Before you walked into the room, Diavolo confessed, “I requested that they give us a room with only one bed. I hope that wasn’t too presumptuous of me, given our relationship.”

“Of course, it’s fine. I’m a bit insulted that you think I wouldn’t want to share a bed with you,” you joked as he unlocked the door. You pulled him into the room and towards the bed, gently pushing him onto it. He stared up at you expectingly, and you rewarded him with a kiss. You pulled away and stared at his soft gold eyes; desire lived in his eyes when he looked at you – an emotional exhibitionist who bared his feelings for you. When Diavolo made himself so easy to read, you almost felt impure for looking at him, knowing you were seeing something no one else would, as he had expressed so many times that he only showed these sides of himself to you. You smiled at him to hide your shame at witnessing such raw honesty. Still only inches from his lips, you spoke, “I’m looking forward to getting you in bed later tonight, my little prince.”

Diavolo could feel his face burning. For a brief moment, he wanted to forgo all other plans and spend the next few hours in bed with you, but he knew that patience would pay off.

Diavolo stomached someone else’s hands on your body during the couples massage he booked – although he made a point to hold your hand the whole time, much to the inconvenience of both of your masseuses. It seemed as if Diavolo was intent on touching you to his heart’s content today. He even suggested that you feed each other when you ordered room service. As advertised, you two enjoyed a relaxing afternoon – although Diavolo could not determine whether the resort had a larger impact on this peace or whether it was you. Actually, no, he knew it was mostly you, but he could only hope you would say the same about him. He was too embarrassed to ask.

With the early hours of night upon you and the moon beginning to rise in the sky, you and Diavolo visited the resort’s shop to select your bath products and filled your portable freezer up with a selection of fancy macarons and pints of ice cream. Diavolo held the freezer up and smiled, “this is so cute, it kind of looks like one of the crows that follows Mammon around, right?”

“That really chubby one?”

“Exactly!” Diavolo laughed. “Do you think they sell these? I would love to have one of them at the castle. I could fill it with your favorite ice cream and keep it in my room. That way, if you’re ever having a rough day, you can come directly to me, and even if I can’t help, I’ll have ice cream.”

He was always thinking of you, and it was so sweet that it was hard to respond to, so instead, you pet him, taking the time to enjoy how soft his hair was. Diavolo melted against your hand. Finally, you managed to speak, “I’m sure we can find a way to get you one.”

Diavolo grinned and started to pull you out onto the room’s private patio. Leafy trees and stone walls isolated you from other customers without hindering your view of the sky. From the cliffside on which the resort was located, you could even look out above a small oceanside town and the vast body of water. The moon floated just above the horizon, leaving a small space between its brilliant glow and a wavering reflection.

The bath was a massive natural stone structure, sunk into the ground with more than enough room for four people – which explained why the bath bombs were so large and came in a pack of two. A slightly raised stone bar was attached to the bath, and on it was a basket of towels, a bottle of Demonus in an ice bucket, and two wine glasses. Next to the bath was a showerhead attached to the tall stone wall. A variety of cool colored Devildom flora were planted around the patio, with a deep violet flower sprouting up near the edge of the bath catching your eye. It was almost a perfect contrast to Diavolo’s eyes.

“What do you think, MC?” Diavolo asked you.

“This is gorgeous, Diavolo! I almost can’t believe I’m in the Devildom,” you stared in awe. He laughed in the face of your honesty before turning your gaze towards him, running his thumb across your lower lip.

“One day, I’m going to show you just how beautiful the Devildom can be. I want to take you to every pretty place and watch as the shock slowly disappears – so that whenever you leave, you dream of coming back to me.”

He looked so sincere. You wanted to apologize for how you phrased your awe, but he kissed you before you could speak. One of his hands started to play with the hem of your shirt. Diavolo had been patient long enough, and he had been looking forward to bathing in the moonlight with you more than anything. He wanted your naked body pressed against him in the steaming water. You squeezed his bicep softly as you kissed him back. The bliss painted across his face when he pulled away was starting to make you impatient, too.

“Get undressed,” you told him. “I’ll start running the bath while you wash off.”

As you filled the tub, ensuring that the water wasn’t too hot for your skin, you stole glances at Diavolo. He was so sensual that it was hard to believe he wasn’t purposely putting a show on for you: the water rinsing suds slowly down his chest and arms as if it was caressing him, the way his hair clung to the nape of his neck, and even the way he bent down to lather his legs seemed unfairly sexual. When the bath was nearly filled, you dropped in the bath bombs. The water became a soft, milky pink, as flower petals and herbs floated to the surface.

Diavolo came up behind you, his warm, wet body pressing against you in an embrace. He whispered into your ear, “your turn to wash up.”

You nodded, hoping that the warmth you felt was in part due to the heat of the bath. Diavolo got into the tub and watched you shamelessly as you undressed and washed yourself until you finally joined him. The second you dipped into the water, his hands were on you. He kissed you wildly, opening his mouth as if to beg you to slip your tongue inside of him. He moaned against your lips. You pulled away so you could leave kisses across the top of his chest – any part of him that rested above the water – while caressing his chest and stomach just below. He leaned back and moaned louder.

“Wait, MC,” he whimpered through shallow panting.

“Yes, my prince?” you asked against his skin.

“I brought you here to make you feel better.”

“I do feel better,” you sucked on his collarbone.

“No,” he moaned and held you by your hips, “I want to make you feel good first, please?”

You pulled back and looked at him, disheveled and slightly flushed. His lips parted desperately. Diavolo begged again, “can I? Please?”

“What did you have in mind?” you asked while smoothing his hair back.

Instead of replying, he lifted you out of the water and sat you at the edge of the bath. The stone ground was cold, but Diavolo’s warm hands caressing your hips and thighs warmed you up slightly. He placed one of your legs over his shoulder so he could easily kiss and bite your inner thighs. He eagerly sucked on your skin, leaving a trail of hickeys up your thigh before slowly kissing back down the trail of marks. You moaned and ran your hands through his hair. He pulled back slightly, pride swelling in his chest for marking you and forcing those sweet noises out of your mouth. Between the sweet scent of you and the milk bath, he felt intoxicated. Diavolo panted and asked, “can I try something?”

“Of course,” you smiled down at him. Diavolo reached for the freezer and pulled out a pint of ice cream. He scooped a small spoonful out and dropped it on your thigh.

“That’s cold,” you complained, earning a chuckle from him.

He watched it start to melt against your hot skin, slowly sliding down your thigh. Diavolo brought his tongue to your skin and licked you clean, the taste of your skin and ice cream melding. His mouth was so hot compared to the sensation before. He grabbed the bottle of Demonus and poured a generous stream down your other thigh, letting some of it drip into the bath. He licked the sticky trail of liquor off of you, pulling another moan out of you. You were so intoxicating to him.

As nice as his teasing tongue felt on your thighs, you wanted more. You used the leg he had placed on his shoulder to slowly pull him closer to you. He licked his lips as you did so.

“Want me to taste you now?” Diavolo asked. You nodded and he dove in, using his mouth to pleasure you greedily. His tongue eagerly lapping at you and his sweet moans sending vibrations through your body. He swirled his tongue around your most sensitive spots, savoring your taste. You could feel his fervor in the desperate sucking and licking, causing you to clench your eyes shut.

Suddenly, you heard a large splash in the water. You looked down at him, some of your fluids dripping from the corner of his mouth. His eyes were wide. In his excitement, his lower set of wings had sprouted out of his back. You were taken aback, but still enamored with the sight of him. You felt one wing graze your foot and tried not to laugh.

“I didn’t know you could do that,” you smiled sheepishly.

“I’m sorry, I got worked up,” he averted his gaze shyly. “I can transform back.”

“No, no it’s adorable,” you chuckled and reached out to pet his head. The moonlight reflected off his hair and along his wet skin. He was so lovely. Diavolo gave you a grin that distorted your notions of what was angelic and what should have been demonic.

With your permission, he continued, allowing you to hold his head and guide him. You watched his wings twitch slightly as he moaned. The moonlight shined against the soft gold at the tip of his wings. His pretty mouth felt so good that you tilted your head back and ran your fingers through his hair mindlessly. Diavolo could tell you were getting close and started to use his hands. He pulled you closer to the edge of the tub so that he had better access. Diavolo licked one finger and slowly put it inside of you, curling his finger to bring you more pleasure.

“I’m close,” you tightened your grip on his hair.

“Good. Take whatever you need from me,” he said before continuing to put his mouth on you. He added another finger, stretching you out slightly. You rolled your hips and felt him go deeper. Diavolo savored the feeling of you clenching around his fingers and twitching against his mouth as you came for him. With little regard for your sensitivity, he gave you a few more soft licks and gentle thrusts with his fingers before he pulled them out of you. He licked his lips and gulped, ensuring that he took everything you gave him.

“MC, I can��t hold back anymore. Please, let me fuck you. Please?” Diavolo begged you. You tried to find the words to reply in your afterglow. Impatient, he continued his pleas between messy kisses along your inner thigh. His damp hair tickled your legs. “Please, I want to keep making you feel good.”

You found it impossible to deny him, and as soon as you agreed, he pulled you into the water with him. He set you on top of his lap so you could feel his hard cock against your stomach. He rubbed himself against you a few times before aligning himself with your hole, stimulating you at the same time. Slowly, he thrusted up into you, with the warm water easing the insertion. You wrapped your arms around his neck, tracing your hands along his wings – which seemed to enhance his pleasure. The water in the bath ebbed and flowed in rhythm with his thrusting. A splashing sound pulsed in harmony with his moaning and the slapping of your skin. One of Diavolo’s hands held you firmly by your back while the other rubbed your body in the thin space between the two of you. His hand snaked even lower, driving you crazy until your eyes were screwed tight.

“How does it feel?” he managed between shaky moans. You could hear the need in his voice, and you indulged him.

“You’re doing so good, my prince,” you pulled back and kissed him. Your taste still lingered in his mouth. Praise was all he needed for his hand to pick up speed and pressure for you. His thrusts became slower and deeper, causing you to sink your nails in his back. He moaned into the pain.

“Fuck,” he growled, “can I cum inside of you? Let me mark your insides, please.”

“Yes,” you panted, “cum for me.”

As he did, he bit your shoulder at the base of your neck in a weak attempt to muffle his moaning. The vibrations of his mouth and the sharp pain combined with the heat of his cum inside of you and the continued stimulation from his hand, which pushed you over the edge a second time.

He released your shoulder and kissed over the saliva coated indents in your skin. His eyes were hazy when he pulled back. Still inside of you, Diavolo let out a content sigh.

“I’m so happy you came with me,” he smiled and kissed the mark on your shoulder again. Realizing what he said, he got flustered, “ah, wait! I didn’t mean – I meant that I’m happy you came to the resort with me, not that you came at the same time as me.”

“I know,” you chuckled and smoothed down his hair.

“But I’m happy about that too,” he admitted, burying himself against your neck and holding you tight. You soothed his embarrassment with gentle pats.

However, the cool night air was starting to get the better of you. You interrupted his nuzzling, “Diavolo, my sweet prince, the water is getting cold. We should probably wash off and go inside.”

Diavolo refused to pull away from your neck, choosing to whine against your skin, instead. “I don’t want to take my dick out of you. It’s so warm. Is it possible to wash up and stay inside of you?”

You couldn’t resist laughing. He may be the next demon king, but right now, he was just a needy demon who loved you too much to want to be apart from you. You traced a finger down his back, feeling the slight bumps along his skin where you had scratched him. “I’m not sure about that.”

“Then at least let me wash you this time. I’ll even dry you off,” Diavolo offered through a half-genuine pout. He added, “after all, there are still plenty of hours left in the night, and I want to take care of you for every second of it.”

Bonus:

When Diavolo walked you up to the House of Lamentation, Lucifer greeted you both at the door. He was quick to spot the bite mark near the base of your neck. He glared, barely containing his demon form, “what the fuck did I tell you?”

“I brought them back in one piece – like I promised.”

“With a giant bite mark!”

“But I had a good time, Lucifer,” you admitted. His gaze instantly softened, but he pulled you into the house and closed the door on Diavolo.

“Next time you need a day off, I’ll deal with it myself,” Lucifer grumbled.

By the time you had returned to your room, you had three messages from Diavolo:

Don’t let him see your thighs, MC!

Actually, don’t show anyone else your thighs. I’d be happy if I was the only one.

Also, I had a great time with you. I can’t wait until I can spend another night alone with you. I want to make you feel even better next time.

#diavolo #gn!mc #spice tier #obey me #obey me diavolo #obey me smut #diavolo x mc #diavolo x reader #diavolo smut

[mydearlybeloathed]

𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐏 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you decided to create a real life frosty the snowman for estelle blofis, a regular camp visitor. it goes... unexpectedly.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jason grace x fem!boreas!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6k (wow)

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: child of boreas reader, female reader, snowmen, ethically ambiguous magic, more plot than fluff im sorry, tooth rotting fluff towards the end, daddy issues i think maybe, serious angst ngl, i will never be normal about jason grace, canon who?

𝐚/𝐧: this had no reason to be so emotionally taxing but here we are

Being the boyfriend of a Boreas kid meant two things happened every night: one, sneaking you in from your lonely cabin to his lonely cabin, and two, sleeping with nearly a hundred different blankets. 

Normally, he fell asleep easy despite the chill, but there was a lot of work waiting for him back New Rome. Jason knew this holiday at Camp Halfblood was only making that work pile up, but he tired, so he didn't care just yet. He could let the anxiety catch him after Christmas. Plus, the longer he was away from work the longer he was with you.

Jason had been away doing Roman things for at least two months, and Iris Messages and the occasional phone call weren’t cutting in anymore; despite your cold shouldered father, you were as clingy as all get out. Not that Jason minded (he was clingy too).

The next fall of New Rome University couldn't seem to get there any slower. You were both going to be there, thank the gods.

Jason started to grin at just the thought, his eyes skimming all over your peaceful face as you breathed in and out slowly. The two of you were practically buried under all the blankets, and he would have been miserably hot if it weren’t for his amazing cooler system of a girlfriend.

“You’re staring,” you suddenly sang out softly, a mischievous smirk taking your face.

Jason’s heart sped up. “I thought you were asleep.”

“Creep,” you mumbled.

He reached over to caress your cheek, tucking some stray hairs behind your ear. You leaned into his touch and twisted in the blankets, wrapping your arms around his middle and nuzzling into his chest.

He pressed a light kiss to your hairline and rested his arm on your waist. “What’s up?”

“Just thinking.”

“About?”

You blinked blearily up at him. “Christmas. I’ve been working on something.”

“Care to share?” Jason had known you long enough to know you were serious about Christmas surprises. This time of year your powers were strongest, and you always took advantage of that.

You lightly patted his chest and snuggled deeper into bed. “Mhmm. When it’s ready. Can’t let anything get out or else Mr. D will so shut it down.”

Jason was officially intrigued. “What exactly… never mind. I'd rather sleep easy.”

You leaned up to kiss his jaw. “Good choice.”

He caught your lips before you could get back to sleep, cupping you cheek in his hand and drawing you close for an everlasting moment. The thundering mosaic on the ceiling was as annoying as ever, and he swore he could feel the statue of his dad staring holes into him. 

So Jason pulled the pile of covers up to hide the two of you away, thriving off your little giggle as he pulled you in once more.

જ⁀➴

A week till Christmas, and you finally felt ready to cast the enchantment. Giddiness ran through your whole body all morning, along with some nerves, of course.

It all began when you heard Chiron reading a story to some of the littler campers. They were year rounders and were feeling homesick, whining and crying so much their counselors couldn't get anything done. So, he read to them, taking some Christmas storybook from Athena Cabin and frantically narrating the tale of Frosty the Snowman.

You’d been coming by to drop off some paperwork from your well-enough paying job in the Big House, lamenting being unable to find a suitable gift for Percy's little sister Estelle. She'd be coming to camp for the Christmas Day bonfires with her mother and father, and you had yet to find something she would like.

As you dropped off your papers you heard the older of the littles cry out that she wished it would snow in camp. Another then exclaimed he wished they had their own magic snowman.

Mr. D was in the next room over, promptly laughing and popping the kids dream bubble. You weren’t having that, not one bit. And suddenly, you had your perfect gift.

The only reasonable solution was to learn how to create a magic snowman.

(Jason would later call you crazy, which is basically a declaration of love, you think.)

You sat alone in the dim lighting of your cabin, which you shared with no one but the dust bunnies. Boreas didn’t really hoe around much, which you supposed was nice, aside from the fact that it left you no roommates. Nights used to get lonely before you and Jason started saying fuck to the rules.

Little snowflakes danced around your palms before they went spiraling into the air and exploded into dozens of flurries. Slowly, bit by bit, the snow started to pile up all around you, creating a blanket of white across the floor. You had the snow down, now, you just had to trust you had your sorcery skills down.

A knock on the cabin’s skylight startled you. 

You smiled, calling up, “What’s the password?”

“Jason has the coolest girlfriend ever.”

“Not quite.”

There was a sigh. “Shiver me timbers.”

“Access granted,” you sang in reply, an all too satisfied smirk planted on your face.

The skylight creaked open, letting in the moonlight as well as your boyfriend. He shivered instantly. No matter how high you set the thermostat, the Boreas cabin was always freezing. Not that it ever bothered you, anyway.

A snow flurry landed on his nose, sending Jason into a sneezing fit. “Still working?”

“Mhmm.” He watched as you tried and failed to hide a yawn.

A little smile sprouted on his face as he rolled his eyes. “All right. Bed time.”

You shot him a glare. “Don’t baby me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, but I’m afraid I can’t sleep without you,” he said softly, holding out a hand with such a pretty look in his eyes. If he kept on looking at you like that, you might as well fall in love with him already.

“Fine,” you sighed, plopping your hand into his and letting him haul you to your feet. “Only because you can’t function without me.”

You wrung your arms around his neck and flushed yourself against him, his arms tight around you and a cute blush in his cheeks. 

A light breeze kissed your cheek as he rose off the floor, keeping one arm around your waist while the other pushed open the skylight. 

“Air Jason, taking off,” you said, doing your best to mimic a pilot’s microphone and failing miserably. Jason loved it though, an airy laugh bubbling from his lips as the night air met the pair of you with no regret.

“You’re such a dork,” he muttered into your ear, eliciting a poke to the ribs from you. Jason dropped a few feet in the air and nearly sent you into cardiac arrest, a scream leaving you as your legs clambered to wrap around his waist. 

Jason was laughing for gods’ sake, shushing you as he picked up speed to reach Cabin One before the harpies caught you. “Sorry, sorry.”

In through the open window and down to the floor, the wind carried you all the way, a soft caress on your skin as if the air meant to comfort the two of you. You were going to ask him if he felt it too when a wave of exhaustion found you, and you started to lean into Jason, not letting him go even when your feet touched the ground.

He rubbed gently circles into your back, his chin coming to rest on your head, eyes closing. You were cold to touch, as always, but Jason would gladly get frostbite just to hold you forever. 

Eyes soft, you caught corners of glittery lights in your peripheral, turning to find a Christmas tree that had definitely not been there a few hours ago. A smile split onto your face as you rushed up to it, admiring the rainbow lights and mismatched ornaments. 

Jason must’ve gone through the Big House attic to find all these. You picked off an ornament of Olympus, a selfie of a smiling Apollo and a less than pleased Dionysus staring out from the little city of the gods. 

“It’s perfect,” you said, spinning back around to find Jason there. 

He had that look in his eyes. You know, the one that takes all the air out of you and leaves you craving nothing more than his very presence. “One more thing.”

You followed his gaze to the ceiling, lip slipping between your teeth to contain your smile. “Mistletoe?”

His hand came to cup your cheek, eyes dipping low. “Hey, I don’t make the rules.”

How could you argue with that? Without warning you lurched forward and sent Jason stumbling back, lips meeting his in a feverish moment.

જ⁀➴

Dawn was encroaching on the camp. 

There was barely a noise all across the Long Island Sound, aside from the sea meeting land, the ruffling of the harpies’ feathers, and the contented snores coming from each cabin. In the stables the pegasi huffed and dealt with the faux antlers stuck to their heads. Mr. D sat snoring in a rocking chair on the Big House deck. 

The tall and proud Christmas tree at the center of camp stood looming over Hestia’s fire. Her warm face could be spied through the flickering flames, if one looked close enough. Beneath the tree’s branches were boxed gifts, some from attentive godly parents, but most placed there by Chiron (he never bothered correcting the campers when they assumed Santa Claus came in the night).

Garlands and wreaths hung from every doorway. Mistletoe was easy to find from the awnings of the Aphrodite Cabin. Poinsettias bloomed over the rooftop of Demeter’s Cabin. The smell of cookies and candy canes wafted out from the camp kitchens, the dryads tossing bits of flour and sugar at each other as they prepared something special.

It was a Camp Halfblood Christmas if you’d ever seen one.

The only thing missing was snow. 

You stood on the hilltop overlooking the center of camp, embracing the December chill. The magical borders prevented outside weather from affecting the camp, but they did nothing to stop weather coming from the inside. 

Flexing your palms and shaking them out, you let out a breath that crystallized in the frigid air. The water in the air bended to your will, the clouds gathered at you command. You didn’t pretend to understand weather and the science of it all, you just knew that when the water in the clouds got cold enough…

Your concentration was unrelenting even as the first few snowflakes drifted down from above, following the current of air down the valley of camp. You would need a lot more than that. Glancing at the sun peeking up over the horizon, you pushed past your growing fatigue.

There would be snow that Christmas Day if you had anything to do about it.

જ⁀➴

Jason noticed right away that the familiar warmth of your freezing body was missing from his side. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he rolled over and noticed that your shoes weren’t at the foot of the bed. 

The whole cabin was freezing, but without you, it was just getting on his nerves. He was ready to get up, throw on a coat, and maybe just start yelling your name to find you wherever you’d run off to.

That was when he looked out the window. Jason’s jaw slacked, his eyes pleasantly wide and bright as a laugh tore out of him. He jumped up and didn’t bother with shoes as he flung open the cabin’s door and ran into the snow.

Everywhere a white layer of snow sat heavy on benches, picnic tables, the cabins—nothing was safe from this Christmas Day miracle.

He laughed again and raked his hands through his hair. So this is what you’d been working so secretively on. Jason really should have guessed sooner. 

The sound of boots in the snow caught his attention and he glanced over to see Piper hurling a snowball at Leo’s head. Leo sputtered when the snow hit his face, a sly grin all over his face.

Piper laughed behind her hand and noticed Jason struggling to pull on sneakers in his doorway. She dodged a melty snowball from Leo’s warm hands and jogged toward him. Her voice was tangled with a smile. “Did you know she was planning this?”

“Nope,” he said, popping the p. All around camp kids were racing outside, slipping on the icy snow and tossing on any warm clothes they could find. You were still nowhere to be seen. “Have you seen her?”

Piper shook her head and made to say something when a handful of snow was dumped down the back of her shirt. She gasped and whirled around, shivering despite the hot anger in her eyes, and took off after a cackling Leo without another word. 

Snickering, Jason took another look around, sighing when he couldn’t see you in the midst of excited campers. 

He turned around to go grab a jacket when a soft noise caught his attention. Some kind of grunting, followed by a startled yelp. Jason started to smile. He’d know that sound anywhere. He followed the noise around the side of his cabin, tilting his head at the sight.

You were red in the face, using all your might to roll a giant ball of snow, struggling to say the least. Estelle was standing by with rapt attention, excitement written all over her face. 

Jason went to stand beside Estelle, kneeling to be at her height. He leaned in to stage-whisper, “Do you think she needs some help?”

You looked up, stopping in the process of pushing your back against the snow, huffing and puffing through your glare. Estelle giggled. “Probably.”

He saw it in your face; you wanted to flip him off, only refraining given the current company. Estelle’s eyes gleamed up at him along with a bucktooth smile. “We’re building a snowman!”

“We?” you huffed, tucking your hair out of your face and behind your ears. “I didn’t know we were pronouncing my name as we now.”

Estelle rolled her eyes. “I’m supervising.”

“Honestly, I think ‘Stelle’s doing the heavy lifting,” Jason teased.

You sighed and turned to face your work. “That’s one layer. Jason, you do the middle.”

Still grinning, he was going to protest before doing exactly as you said, when a voice echoed across the lawn. One of the Stolls (Jason knew they were a few years apart but he still could never remember which was which) was approaching, a snowball in hand.

“Yo, Y/N!” he called. “It’s getting a little soggy over here!”

You smiled like this wasn’t the first time someone had had this complaint, wasting no time in cracking your neck and splaying out your hands.  A cold rush of wind enveloped you, a firm crease in your brows, before the another wave of snow rained down from the clouds.

The Stoll brother shouted his thanks, and you meant to offer a smile when suddenly the world got tipsy, everything going black for a split second as you teetered off balance. Jason’s heart dropped and he rushed to your side, steadying you against him.

“Hey, hey, you with me?” 

You blinked blankly, though you nodded despite the greenish tint in your cheeks that was quickly fading. Still, Jason wanted nothing more than to sit you down and cast lighting upon anyone who tried to use you like a snow machine again. 

“I’m fine,” you assured him, gaining your color back. “Just a bit tired keeping all of this up.”

Estelle was attempting to finish the snowman on her own, promptly falling face first into the snow and sputtering to her feet. You giggled at her expense, not realizing you were still leaning mostly on Jason.

He wasn’t done questioning. “How long did it take to cover the whole camp?”

“Oh, uhm.” Your brows drew together, lips pursed. “A few hours. No big deal.”

You broke away from Jason and went to help Estelle roll along another giant snowball, casting Jason a reassuring smile. He let out a sigh and tried to let it go, going to help with the snowman construction.

The three of you finished the three layers of the snowman’s body, and Estelle ran off to collect the decorations and came back with a box, her brother, and her brother’s girlfriend.

Percy held Estelle on his shoulders, the box of supplies in Annabeth’s arms. You wiped your brow and smiled so brightly upon spying them, that Jason nearly forgot you’d been focusing on continuing the snowfall all along, slowly draining yourself. 

Before he could call you out you sprang to your feet and went to pick the carrot out of the box. Annabeth chuckled and said, “I had to fight Blackjack for that.”

“Aww,” you hummed through a giggle. “Poor guy.”

Percy scoffed. “Please, he gets enough carrots. He could spare us at least five.”

Before you even had the chance to reply Estelle had jumped up to swipe the carrot from your hand. A response was barely on you lips when she nearly toppled the whole snowman over trying to stick the nose on its blank face.

You sighed and went to help her, scooping your hands under her arms and lifting her so she could reach its face. 

The morning went by as Piper and Leo approached the finished snowman with hot cocoa in hand. Piper sported a grin as she looked at you and said, “Mr. D is furious.”

“I hoped so,” you said. 

As Piper knelt to talk to Estelle you once again chose to ignore the weightiness in your shoulders, swallowing thickly to deal with your drying throat, and walked to the near empty box. Inside was a top hat you’d been saving for last. This was what the practice was leading up to.

“Hey, Stelle,” you called. Jason came to your shoulder, brows drawn, and you shot him a smirk. “Have Percy help you put the hat on top.”

She needed no more asking, taking her brother’s hand and dragging him to the snowman. Percy lifted her just as you had, and as Estelle rested the silk top hat on the snowman’s head, you held out a hand, worked some Boreas kid magic, and sent up a prayer to your dear old dad. A flurry of snowflakes shot out from your palm and right to the heart of the snowman.

You waited on bated breath as Estelle’s boot crunched back to the snowy ground, your gaze locked on the unmoving creature of snow. One second, then two, then three, until a minute passed. Estelle ran back to Annabeth and started ranting about something, Percy right behind her as he slung an arm around Annabeth’s shoulders. Piper and Leo engaged in another snowball fight, hot cocoa discarded on the ground.

And the snowman stood still. Your lips pursed with confusion and frustration. Jason appeared beside you again, looking from you to the snowman. “What’re we glaring at Frosty for?”

“Nothing,” you dismissed with a forced grin. You let out a sigh and intertwined your fingers with his, pressing a swift kiss to the back of his hand. “Wanna head inside? You’re shivering.”

He shook his head and slipped an arm around your waist. He was warm and soft and despite how much you loved the cold, you’d never get tired of it. But you couldn’t focus on that right now; you were too disappointed. 

That was until he tried to lead Jason back to his cabin anyway, and your boyfriend had a full stop, his eyes slightly horrified while also mystified. Brows pinched, you were on the verge of asking what was wrong when his hand gripped your chin. You flushed deep red at the action, another rush of warmth hitting you, but then Jason was turning your head to follow his line of sight.

A bright laugh escaped you. There, made of snow, two button eyes, and a carrot nose, was Estelle’s snowman. But now, he was living and breathing, the little twig eyebrows on him drawn taut as he examined himself, looking at himself tree branch arms. 

The lot around you stood in shock, looking from you to your creation. You laughed again quite like a mad scientist, and dropped Jason’s hand to slowly approach the snowman.

“Hello,” you said, and he considered you with a blank button stare, the line of chocolate chips making his mouth curved down into a frown.

“What am I?” he asked you, dropping his arms to his sides. He looked very contemplative for a snowman.

“A snowman,” you answered brightly. 

The snowman hummed. His voice was soft, reminding you of the sound of crackling fire. Ironic. “I don’t think I’m meant to be alive. I feel… odd.”

Your smile started to fade, and you glanced back at your friends for help. Estelle stood awestruck, slowly stomping through the snow to stand at your side. She took your hand and looked up at the snowman with shining eyes. 

The snowman looked back at her, going quiet. “Hello.”

Estelle started to smile. “Hi. My name’s Estelle, and this is Y/N. Those are our friends.” She jabbed a thumb back at the others. “Oh, do you have a name?”

He seemed to turn thoughtful, nodding. “I believe it was Perseus.”

Estelle let out a tiny gasp. “That’s what I called you! In my head!” She turned to you in complete and utter amazement. “How did he know that?”

You could only shake you head with a smile, squeezing her hand. “I dunno. Magic?” You couldn’t help but laugh once more, casting a glance up at the sky. The wind brushed through your hair, feeling oddly like a father’s hand ruffling a daughter’s hair.

You’d never met your father, but you doubted he was a cold as the weather.

Percy, Annabeth, Leo, and Piper came to admire the snowman, introducing themselves as he assessed them one by one. Jason hooked an arm around your waist, pulling you side against his, and you practically melted onto him. Your legs felt a tad bit weak.

He pressed a lingering kiss to your temple, whispering in your ear. “You astonish me.”

A smile split onto your face as you turned to kiss his cheek. Percy started to laugh as he looked upon the snowman. “Perseus the Snowman, huh?”

Perseus was holding Estelle’s hand as she rattled on about camp and how cool her big brother was and all about the Greek gods. Perseus listened with unabashed attention, the crease in his twig brows alluding to his curiosity. 

Annabeth sidled up to you, unsure how to phrase her question. “Do you… Well, was this smart?”

You gave her an odd look. “What do you mean?”

The wise daughter of Athena settled you with her seriousness. “He’s snow… you can’t keep him that way forever.”

Her words rattled you to your core, and for once, you felt the chill of December.

Morning passed to evening, and you stayed stuck to Jason’s side more by exhaustion than by choice. Not that you minded, but the jelly feeling in your legs was less than pleasant. It took some work to ward off the curious campers from bombarding Perseus, who proved to be a rather anxious snowman. 

Christmas Day passed by answering the endless questions of a snowman, explaining everything he could ever want to know. 

Piper and Leo had gone off to lead ornament making with their respective cabins, being head counselors and all, and Percy and Annabeth went to make an obligatory holiday call to the latter’s father. Leaving only you, Jason, Estelle, and Perseus. 

The four of you were at a picnic table close to the woods, the demigods sat atop the table and the snowman rolled up to the side. 

Your energy was slowly but surely coming back to you. With the sun crossing the sky and starting to descend, the need for snow was waning. You hadn’t had a demand for a few hours, and to be honest, you were grateful. Your eyes felt droopy and your shoulders ached. You wanted to sleep, but you had one more thing to keep focused on: Perseus the Snowman. 

Jason drew gentle shapes on your hand, letting you lay your head on his lap as Estelle told the harrowing tale of how Percy defeated Clarisse La Rue in his very first game of capture the flag.

You were having trouble looking at your snowman. From what he said when Estelle let out a yawn, he knew exactly why.

“Look at that,” he said, drawing everyone’s attention. His button eyes swept across the lawn of camp, where the snow was melting into the grass under the heat of the setting sun. His eyes turned to you, then. “You’re letting it all melt.”

You sat up and crossed your legs, resting your hands in your lap. You blinked at him, a tug on your heart. “Yes.”

He could only stare back at you. “You’re keeping me, though.”

Perseus was very perceptive for a snowman. You smiled at him. “We’re not done talking to you.”

He smiled back. “That’s true. And when we’re done talking?”

Estelle was looking between all of you, a confused purse in her lips. Jason cleared his throat and asked her to get him earmuffs from his cabin. She nodded and ran off, nearly tripping over herself. You sent him a look. “You don’t own earmuffs.”

“Oops,” he murmured through a grin. Perseus was watching the pair of you almost fondly.

You turned back to him and searched for the words to say, but it was all lost on you. Jason continued to rub soothing circles into your skin. All the words you knew suddenly boiled over. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think what would happen when… You know.”

Perseus shifted around, a gentle chocolate chip smile on his face as he took in the scenery. “Don’t be sorry. I’m happy to have lived.”

“But… you’re going to die,” you couldn’t help but say, as if he needed reminding.

He didn’t. That much was clear by his smile. “Don’t be sorry,” he echoed. “I’ll be happy to die. Snowmen aren’t meant for longevity.” 

Your throat constricted. “It’s all my fault. I wasn’t thinking.” 

“You were thinking of Estelle,” he said. “I’ve made her happy. I’m perfectly fine with melting.”

You cupped a hand over your mouth and averted your eyes just as Estelle came sprinting back, chest heaving as she lamented being unable to find any earmuffs.

“It’s cool, Stelle,” Jason said, forcing a smile. 

She plopped back down and huffed, looking to Perseus, then the sunset. Perseus glittered in the light, and it took you far too long to realize it wasn’t glitter, but dew. 

Estelle, angel she is, noticed it too. “Perseus, are you melting?” Before he could even think to answer she was turning on you, a fire in her gaze. “Make him better.”

You would—gods, all of Olympus knew you would, if only you weren’t exhausted. You gaped like a fish, squeezing Jason’s hand. Perseus the Snowman shook his head. “No, there’s no need.”

He reached out a wooden arm and she gently wrapped her little fingers around the splintered edges of his crooked hand. “I don’t fear death.”

Estelle’s jaw hung slack for an everlasting moment. “Well, I do! Y/N, do it.”

Jason tensed and snapped, “Stelle, that’s not fair.”

She didn’t seem to care in the slightest. 

“Estelle,” Perseus drew her attention back to him. “You’ll make more snowmen.”

She shook her head hopelessly, eyes going glassy. “No, I won’t. I won’t ever make another snowman.”

“How sad,” said Perseus. “Never?”

Estelle wiped her nose on her sleeve and looked at the ground. “Maybe, not never.”

The snowman started to smile again. His button eyes roamed over them all, stopping on the sky, and he sighed. “What a wonderful day to be alive.”

You turned your face so no one would see you crying. Jason's hold on your hand was the only thing sobering you up enough to remain on the picnic table, watching the sunset with your snowman.

The god Astraeus painted the sky with vibrant yellows, pinks, and oranges in a sunset to rival all others. It was too beautiful. Perseus kept his blank gaze settled on it alone, his hand still in Estelle’s. You and Jason sat rigid behind them as time ticked away. 

The moon rose expectantly to take its place as the sun started to hide under the horizon. The yellows and pinks made way for the dark blue of night creeping in. Only then did Perseus shift his gaze back to Estelle. “I’m ready now.”

A crease grew in your brow when Estelle nodded, understanding what you did not, and she stood up on the table to reach over Perseus’ head. With shaky hands she reached for his hat, glancing down at him, worrying her lip between her teeth.

All Perseus did was smile. “Merry Christmas.”

The little girl took in a wavering breath. “Merry Christmas.” And she removed the hat, lifting it off his head, and in an instant all hints of emotion left the snowman. Nothing changed at all, but each of you could see it; those buttons held life behind them no longer. 

You bit down hard on your lip. “How did you know that would work?”

She shrugged, setting the hat down on the snow. “I didn’t.”

The sound of footfalls on the snow had you turning around. Chiron approached, a sorry look in his eyes, and he stopped a few feet off. “Everyone has gathered around the tree.”

You took Estelle’s hand in yours, steeling yourself and offered her a smile that she slowly returned. Jason moved to walk at your side as you followed Chiron to the center of camp. The tree lit up most of camp, stretching high and out.

Campers were singing off key here and there. A pair of girls was caught under the mistletoe, one laughing awkwardly before the moon eyed one swooped in for a gentle peck on her lips. Gifts were being exchanged. Snow balls were thrown. A snowman was being built by some younger Hermes kids too.

“Hey!” Percy called out, cheeks flushed as he sipped on his apple cider. One arm was slung around his girlfriend who was talking in low voices with Thalia. The lot of your friends were gathered around one of the many little fires scattered around the lawn.

He offered you and Jason each a blue gingerbread man, grinning ear to ear. “Mom made ‘em.”

You looked around for Mrs. Blofis and found her at a nearby table, handing out marshmallows for roasting with Mr. Blofis at her side. Mr. Blofis wasn’t doing much handing out, instead in what seemed to be a deep conversation with Mr. D. The god of wine was gesturing wildly as he regaled some kind of story.

All was well. All was calm. You found it in yourself to actually smile. 

Guilt wasn’t very far, wondering truly what you had been thinking bringing a snowman to life, when a particularly harsh bout of wind blew all your hair into your face. You sputtered through a giggle and swiped your hair to the side, your voice faltering when you caught sight of a man standing on the outskirts of the bonfires and chatter.

It couldn’t be. You stepped away from Jason and the rest, approaching the stranger. He stood tall, with a suit that glittered like snow. Two purple wings arched from his shoulder blades. What could your father want with you on Christmas?

“Hi,” you said, not sure where to start.

He stirred like he was uncomfortable. “Yes, hello, daughter.”

You had the heart to grin. “Merry Christmas.”

Boreas nearly scoffed before he corrected himself with a nod. “You as well.”

The silence to follow was tense. You motioned with your hand vaguely. “Is there a reason you’re here?”

You weren’t sure how to feel about meeting your father. You’d imagined this moment countless times, but it all led up to this anticlimactic reveal that was more amusing than aweing. 

“There is,” he huffed. “I thought I would let you know your little magic act didn’t harm anything.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, heart dropping.

“I mean that the snowman is not dead,” Boreas informed you. “The snowman itself was never alive, I suppose. I’m impressed, I should say. You managed to catch a snow spirit and wrangle it into that snowman. Normally, snow spirits don’t get lives… You did a good thing, I suppose, giving that spirit one. He remembers it all. Perseus, as you called him, is living free and wild, as a snow spirit should be.”

You hadn’t realized your eyes were watering, relief coursing through you. “Oh, thanks gods. I’m not murderer.”

Boreas chuckled softly. “You’re not.” He averted his eyes, raising a hand and pausing, unsure, before he settled it on your shoulder and met your eyes. “I’m… proud of you. I don’t have many children. You’re certainly one I don’t regret.”

You blinked up at him, reaching to awkwardly pat his forearm. “Thanks, Dad.”

He nodded stiffly, backed away, and with a last Merry Christmas, he vanished in a flurry of snowflakes. One landed on your nose and gave you an ever rare shiver.

Jason’s arm wrapped around you, his warmth enveloping you like a nice blanket. “You good?”

Nodding, you leaned your head on his shoulder. “Very.”

Curfew was extended that night, much to the herpes disappointment. Treats and drinks were devoured by greedy children and finally, at the end of the night, Chiron gave the word and a stampede of kids ran to tear open the gifts they’d been eyeing for weeks. 

After the younger kids had grabbed theirs and the crowd died down, your group moved in to find the gifts with your names on them. Your dad gifted you a snowglobe of camp. You shook it up with a smile, not noticing your sweating boyfriend approach you from behind.

“Y/N?” You turned, smile widening. Jason only got more nervous. “Uhm… I…”

You set the snowglobe back in its box on the ground and stepped closer to him, taking his hands in your freezing ones. “Yeah?”

“I love you,” he blurted. “So much.”

Your grin grew painful with how big it was. “And I love you.”

Jason blushed and took a deep breath. “You’ve been with me through… everything. When I wasn’t sure who I was, when Hera manipulated me and Piper, through the war.” He was out of breath, only one thought on his mind: no words would ever be enough. “I’m so in love with you. I can’t explain how much. Just when I think about it I can’t breathe.” 

Your face had fallen into admiration. Jason’s thumb rubbed anxious lines on your knuckles. “I never want to spend a day without you. You deserve everything, I want to give it to you.”

“Jason…” Your voice was shaky, tapering off.

“Don’t worry,” he nearly whispered, moving to cup your cheek. “I’m not asking you to marry me. Not yet.” You giggled and he swore it was better than ambrosia. “I will though. I promise I will.”

You were too busy reaching to take his face in your hands to notice when he pulled something out of his pocket. You leaned forward to kiss the very life out of him, and he would very much have let you, but he drew you back with his hold on your jaw, chuckling when you frowned.

He held up a little velvet box between your bodies. Suddenly you weren’t so interested in kissing him, swiping the box from him with greedy hands and gleaming eyes. You popped the box open, admiring the pretty silver chain laid within. “Oh, it’s beautiful.”

“Here.” Jason turned you around and offered to clip it around your neck. He didn’t waste the opportunity, peppering kisses from the skin behind your ear down to your shoulder, relishing in the little quiver you gave in response. “Merry Christmas.”

Whirling back around, you jumped him, arms flinging around his neck as you crushed your lips to his. You pulled back for barely a second to mumble, “Merry Christmas” before your tongue pushed past his lips, your teeth catching his bottom lip.

“Woah! Woah! No PDA in my camp!” You groaned and ripped away from Jason, rolling your eyes as you cast Mr. D a glare over your shoulder. 

Jason wasn’t so cocky anymore, red from neck to nose. “Sorry!”

“I don’t get paid enough…”

You and your boyfriend locked eyes, breaking down into a round of laughter as the grumpy god stomped away. 

“Hey!” Piper jumped out of nowhere, Leo hot on her tail. Both were totally buzzed, and all you could do was laugh and wonder how on earth they’d snuck in alcohol. “Come sing carols, lovebirds!”

The pair of you followed the pair of them back to the little bonfire your friends had claimed. Fiddling with your necklace, you eyes scanned across them all to land on Jason, and a rush of adoration hit you like a freight train. You pecked his cheek and watched him stumble over a chuckle, returning a kiss to your hairline. 

Then, as you leaned your head on his shoulder, a snowflake crossed your eye. 

One by one, the sky became littered with flurries. Annabeth held up a hand as if to catch some. “Y/N, you’ve got to be tired by now. Take a rest.”

You shook you head slowly, confused. “This isn’t me.”

The winter wind kissed your cheek, and you were left at a loss. But Estelle—sweet Estelle, who sat between her brother and Annabeth—she knew. A little grin appeared on her face. “Goodbye, Perseus.”

#pjo #percy jackson #pjo fanfic #pjo hoo toa #pjo oneshot #pjo x reader #hoo x reader #heroes of olympus oneshot #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians #jason grace #jason grace x you #jason grace imagines #jason #jason grace x y/n #jason x you #jason x reader #christmas #ficmas 2023 #fluff #angst #x reader #reader insert #female reader

[marvelslut16]

The Flu

Prompt number: 22 "Who takes care of you?"

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner

Rating: T(een)

Word count: 2.8k+

Warnings: Age gap relationship. Dbf. Swearing. Boss and employee.

A/N: A few hours late for day 4, but I was a busy woman today. Aaron and Jack never go into the witness protection program, they catch Peter Lewis right away.

The job was just supposed to be temporary, one to help you get back on your feet after dropping out of school, and you got to help your long time infatuation Aaron Hotchner now that Jess was moving out of state. It was a win win in your eyes, and it got your dad off your back. But that was almost two years ago now, and there was no end in sight for your current arrangement as Jack’s live in nanny. 

The one flaw in your logic was how drop dead gorgeous your boss is. Not that that is new information, you’d been drooling over him since you were sixteen when you saw him shirtless at a backyard/pool party your dad threw. But now it’s so much worse, because he’s so sexy doing all of his mundane tasks. Making coffee at five in the morning with bedhead? Sexy. Making dinner in one of his tight white dress shirts when he gets home from a case early? Still sexy. Dressed down in casual clothes coaching Jack’s soccer team? The most sexy.

As you lament, yet again, to your best friend over text about how unfairly hot Aaron Hotchner is, the front door opens. As if he knew you were talking about him, he enters the house with a thud having dropped his go bag by the front door. He slowly makes his way to the kitchen, where you are, and when he does you finally notice how miserable he looks. His dark hair is slicked to his forehead, his face pale- except for his cheeks which are bright red, and his eyes are bloodshot.

“Oh my god, Aaron! Are you okay?” your voice raising an octave, you rush over to him and guide him to one of the barstools in front of his large island.  

“I’m fine, the team overreacted and sent me home,” he almost sounds convincing, until he finishes the sentence with a loud sneeze. 

“Awww,” you rub your hand up and down his back comfortingly. “Did Jackers give you the flu?”

“No,” he argues, and tries to quietly sniffle. 

“That’s it, straight to bed young man,” your hands resting on your hips as you tell him the same thing you told Jack a week ago when he came home from school with the flu. “While you take a nap I’ll make you some homemade chicken noodle soup.”

“It’s fine (Y/N), you don’t have to do that. I’m capable of making my own lunch,” he looks like a petulant child, his hands balled in fists also resting on his hips. 

“When was the last time you let someone take care of you Aaron?” you ask, becoming annoyed that he keeps fighting you. “Six months ago when you were in the hospital, that’s when. And then you still fought it tooth and nail. Who takes care of you?”

“I can take care of myself,” he starts coughing as a result of lowering his voice in order to use his boss voice. A voice he only ever uses on you when you try to care for him too.

“You want to go back to work again soon right?” he nods. “So just listen to me. Take some Tylenol and go lay down. Please let me make you some soup.”

He finally relents and heads upstairs to bed, but not before you get him a large glass of water. Thankfully you were planning on making chicken for dinner, so you already have some thawing. You waste no time and start cooking the chicken in one pot, then you chop the vegetables. After the chicken has been shredded and the soup is simmering, making the whole house smell delicious, you sneak upstairs to check on your patient.

You’re happy to see that he’s laying in the middle of his bed bundled up in his sheets with little snores escaping him.Despite him being sick, he still looks far more at peace and relaxed in this moment then he has since you met him back when he was still a prosecutor. After a few minutes of taking him in, you head back to the kitchen and toast and butter bread to go with his soup. The soup is done ten minutes later, and you ladle a nice heaping bowl for him. 

You trek back up the stairs, walk into Aaron’s room and stand beside his bed. You’ve woken him up a bunch of times when he falls asleep watching movies with you and Jack or when he falls asleep at the island going over paperwork for work, but this feels different. You’re in his bedroom, you’re boss’ bedroom. Overcoming your nerves you reach forward and gently shake his shoulder, he wakes with a start whipping his hand to grasp your wrist in a bruising grip. 

“Aaron,” you startle, he doesn’t register that you aren’t a threat in his half asleep stupor. “It’s me, it’s (Y/N).”

“(Y/N)?” he snaps out of it, face contorting into a frown when he sees his white knuckled grip around your wrist. “Shit! I’m so sorry!”

“It’s fine,” you smile lightly, rubbing your wrist when he finally lets go. “It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have woken you up like that.”

“It’s my fault,” he argues, sitting up and leaning against his mahogany headboard. “I couldn’t stop thinking about the case at work before I fell asleep, I must have dreamt about it.”

“It’s fine Aaron, I just wanted to let you know the soup is done, there’s a bowl cooling on the island for you,” you smile as you slowly back out of his room, suddenly feeling like you’re intruding. 

Aaron doesn’t say anything else, so you slip out of the room and head back to the kitchen to start cleaning up. Aaron joins you a few minutes later, wrapped tightly in his blue robe Jack picked out for him for Christmas last year. Aaron lets out an involuntary moan after taking a spoonful of soup, and you clench your thighs together at the delicious sound.

“This is the best chicken noodle soup I’ve ever had,” Aaron says once he’s scarfed down half of his bowl. 

“You hate chicken noodle soup,” you giggle, remembering the cute way his nose crinkled in disgust when that was the only soup at some fancy restaurant the team and their families went to last year. 

“Not this one!” he shovels in another spoonful. 

You give Aaron another helping of the soup, glad that he’s eating and hydrating himself, before putting the rest into a container and into the fridge. You have just enough time to wash the pot and counters before heading to pick Jack up from school.

“I’m gonna head out and get Jackers in a few minutes,” you tell Aaron as he starts sneezing again. “Once you finish that, go lay back down and drink lots of water.”

“You can’t tell me what to do,” he murmurs thinking you won’t be able to hear him. But you do, and you glare at him for his childish antics. He finally relents, “okay.”

The drive to get Jack isn’t very long, but after the whole Peter Lewis fiasco, Aaron won’t let Jack walk home or ride the bus. And you don’t blame him. Your dad told you about Jack getting stalked during one of your weekly phone calls while you were away for school, you were rattled for the Hotchner’s. 

“(Y/N)!” Jack comes running at you when he sees you, you bend down and scoop him into your arms and carry him to the car. You’ll never get tired of how excited he gets to see you when you pick him up, it’s the same happy reaction every day. 

“How was school buddy? Get all the homework you missed last week when you were home sick?” you bombard him with questions as you unlock the car.

“It was great! We got to play soccer in gym today and I scored three times!” Jack wiggles in excitement before you set him back on the ground. 

“That's great buddy!” you smile at him as he slips into his seat. 

“Yes I got all of my make up work,” he pouts once you get into the driver's seat. “Lots of fractions, and you know how much I hate those.”

“I’ll tell ya what, you do one of your math worksheets and then we can make your dad a get well soon card,” over your time with the Hotchner’s you’ve learned that bargaining is how to incentivise the both of them. “He came home from work early with the flu.”

“Dad’s home?” Jack start’s to excitedly bounce in his seat, happy that he’ll get to spend more time with his favorite person.

“Yeah, but just remember that he’s not feeling his best so he won’t be able to do a lot,” a bittersweet smile crosses your face, it’s not fair that they don’t get to spend more time with one another. It’s not fair that Aaron has to sacrifice his personal life to make the world a better place for everyone else. 

When you walk in the door you're greeted with the sight of Aaron bundled up on the couch under three blankets, the news playing quietly on the TV. Jack gives his dad a big hug before scurrying off to the kitchen to grab a snack and start his homework. You walk up to the lump on the couch that was once Aaron and reach your forearm forward to feel his forehead, and sure enough he’s much warmer than he should be. 

“I don’t feel good,” Aaron whines, making the same pouty face Jack made all last week. “Everything aches.”

“I know sweetheart,” you let the term of endearment slip without thinking, too focused on trying to comfort Aaron. “You have a fever, you need to drink lots of water and get out from under those blankets.”

“No,” he huffs, clutching onto his blankets like he needs them to live. “I don’t have a fever, it’s just cold in here.”

“Aaron it's seventy two degrees in here, it’s not cold. You need to take the blankets off, it’ll only make it worse,” he shakes his head sinking further into the couch. “Fine, if I go grab the thermometer and it says you have a fever, I’m taking both of your blankets into the kitchen with me while I help Jack with his homework.”

You don’t give him time to respond before you head to the upstairs bathroom where you had checked Jack for a fever this morning before school. When you get back to him, Aaron has sunk further down into the couch and cocoon of blankets trying to hide from the thermometer in your hand. You eventually get it in his mouth and sure enough he has a one hundred one degree fever.

“Hand over those blankets,” you reach your hand out for them, and he reluctantly gives them to you. “Now drink some water and watch the news. And no more blankets!”

You help Jack with two math worksheets before he remembers your deal, and demands you make a card. He decorates the printer paper in every color marker and tops it off with those marker stamps you got him for his birthday. Jack even makes you sign your name on the card. 

“Is this for me?” Aaron coughs and sits up when Jack thrusts the card in his face. “Aww thanks buddy, I love it!” Jack sits on the couch with his dad for a few minutes, but after seeing the news is on he gets up and leaves. 

“You feeling up for dinner?” you ask Aaron, when Jack heads back to finish some more homework. “It’s too late for me to make something, is there any take out you want?”

“Happy Meal!” Jack yells from the kitchen

“You heard the little man, we’re having McDonalds tonight,” Aaron smiles at you as you grab your keys and call Jack to come ride with you.

The rest of the night is stress free, Jack actually listens to you when you tell him it’s time to shower and get ready for bed, all because his dad is sick and doesn’t want to make it worse. Well it’s stress free where Jack is concerned, you still have to deal with the full grown baby you call your boss. 

“Time for bed Aaron,” you tell him after you’ve dried Jack’s hair and read him to sleep. “I know you don’t want to but you need to get your rest.”

“I’m not tired,” he says, even though he grabs your hand when you hold it out to him, you pull him out of his chair and lead him up the stairs and to his room 

“Now take two more Tylenol and go to sleep,” he reluctantly takes the pills out of your hand and throws them back dry.

“There, are you happy?”

“I’m ecstatic,” you deadpan, moving to fluff his pillows for him.

“Thank you,” Aaron catches your gaze when he speaks, making sure to hold it.

“It's my job,” you dismiss his praise, not wanting to let yourself think about it too much and read too deep into it. 

“No it's not, you always go above and beyond for us, for me,” Aaron gently catches the wrist he squeezed earlier making a mental image of the faint bruise marring your skin, and vowing to never let the world hurt you. 

“Aaron,” your breath catches at the delicate ghosting of his fingertips on the inside of your wrist.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, leaning forward and now it’s his lips ghosting over your wrist. You swear your heart stops when he pushes down harder, leaving a trail of kisses around your wrist. 

“What are you doing?” you ask breathlessly, the last thing you want is for him to stop, but you also need to make sure he’s in his right mind when doing this. 

“Kissing you,” the words fall out of his mouth effortlessly, like they’re said all of the time. His mouth travels up your arm and he’s kissing the sensitive crook of your elbow. 

Aaron pulls you down next to him in bed, quickly scooping you up and cradling you in his arms. You're at a loss for words, your dream is coming true. Aaron Hotchner actually wants you as much as you want him, and it isn’t a dream. When you’re lost in thought his lips descend on yours, and soon you get lost in him instead. There’s no rush to your kiss, just a slow languid strokes of his tongue twining with yours. It’s the perfect first kiss, there’s a heat to it, but no sense of urgency to get it over with. 

“(Y/N), you have my heart,” Aaron admits breathlessly, arms wrapping around you tighter. “I know it’s wrong for many reasons, but you made my heart beat again. You love Jack and you’re wonderful with him. He loves you. I love you. You take care of me even though you don’t have to, you are the most amazing person. You’re perfect for Jack and me.”

“You have my heart too, I love you too,” you grip his chin and pull him in for another kiss. “You and Jack are everything to me, I finally feel like I belong somewhere, here with the two of you. I never want to lose this, lose you.”

“You won’t,” he kisses you one more time before pulling away completely. “But you should probably go to your own room now, wouldn’t want you to get sick from sleeping with me tonight.”

“I was home with Jack all last week, I’m fine. Plus it’s probably better I stay in here and keep an eye on you,” he smirks, kissing you one last time before resting his head on your chest.  

The rest of the week is wonderful, Aaron still argues with you when you try to take care of him, but when Jack’s at school you two let the facade down. You cuddle with him and kiss him whenever you walk past him, making out on the couch like you’re two horny teenagers. Before you know it, it’s Sunday and Aaron is feeling better so he has to go into work in the morning. As the two of you say goodnight to Jack you start sneezing and the sniffling you’ve had all day rears its ugly head. 

“I told you not to sleep with me,” Aaron teases you after you close Jack's door, pulling you with him and back into his room.

“I’m fine,” your arguing falls short as you start sneezing again.

“I think the team can do without me for another case,” Aaron smiles as you slip into bed with him. “I need to be here to take care of you now.” Who would have thought the flu would be what finally got you two together?

#fictober23 #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

[justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms]

May I request a fanfiction about Diavolo or any of the brothers (obey me) that has a calm and collected S/O who one day just looks very grumpy and tired?

Hi Anon! Absolutely! Ooh, my first fanfic request in a while...let's see how it goes!

Pairings: Lucifer/Mammon/Leviathan/Satan/Asmodeus/Beelzebub/Belphegor/Diavolo x gn!reader (separate)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It just was not your day.

You'd been gaming with Levi and Belphie until late last night. Then when you finally got back to you room, Satan had dragged Mammon in to work on an assignment. You had gone to bed in the early hours of the morning. As a result, you slept in, Lucifer banging on your door to wake you up. Thanks to Beel, you missed breakfast, and just when you were walking out the door, Asmo realised he had forgotten his bag. Which prompted you to realise that you had also forgotten your bag.

So when you got back to the House of Lamentation, you were just not in a great mood. Your usually calm façade was slipping quickly. All you wanted was to lay down in your bed and sleep the rest of today away.

But of course this was the House of Lamentation. There was no peace to be had there. Of course the brothers only knew bits and pieces of what had happened in the last 24 hours so when they looked up from what they were doing to see you standing, glowering in the doorway, they were surprised to say the least.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

More under the cut!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucifer sighed as he heard the door slam. He really had to tell his brothers to be more careful with the house. But as he turned to chastise whichever sibling had disrespected the front door, he caught a glimpse of your tired, angry face.

There aren't many things that make the first born blanch. But in that moment, he felt an unnatural stab of fear.

He quickly shook off the feeling. As your partner and someone Diavolo had trusted to look after the exchange student, Lucifer needed to make sure you were okay.

He gestured for you to meet him in the next room, away from his brothers. As he turned, he saw you roll your eyes and he bit down the rising wave of anger. You were having a bad day, it was to be expected.

"Are you alright? You seem tired."

You nodded tritely. "Late night. Bad morning."

Lucifer recalled that he had needed to wake you up that morning, something that rarely happened. He guessed his brothers must have kept you up last night with their foolish whims.

He sighed again. "I'll make sure you get an early night tonight. Don't worry about any work you have to do. I'll take care of it."

The first smile he had seen lit your face at his words and he felt his pride soar. Even if it was a small gesture, he'd managed to make you feel better. He'd count that as a win.

Lucifer poked his head into your room a few yours later to see you curled up under the covers. He silently walked over to the bed and pulled another blanket over your sleeping form, brushing your hair out of your face as he did so.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As soon as he heard the door slam shut, Mammon's fight or flight instincts kicked in. Usually that only happened when one of his brothers was mad (Lucifer especially) and when that was the case, he was usually the one they were after.

So when he saw you standing in the doorway, he was surprised (and a little ashamed).

"Hey human. How ya doin'?"

The look you gave him was so foreign on your usually calm face that Mammon actually took a step backwards. But he didn't get to where he was without having a good sense of how to stay out of trouble. So he walked over to you, stretching out a hand to rub your shoulder.

"Y'okay?" His voice softened. This wasn't like you, something must have happened. He could see the bags under your eyes.

Oh. That's right. You were up last night trying to help him study. A twinge of guilt twisted his stomach. Maybe he was responsible for this.

"C'mon! Follow me." He grabbed your hand and tugged you behind him.

"Where are you taking me?"

"My favourite human and partner's havin' a bad day and it's my job as ya first man to change that!" He could feel his cheeks and ears burning and he looked forward determinedly so you wouldn't see his blush.

As a result, he didn't see the small smile that touched the corners of your lips. Your first man was on the job to make sure your day got better.

The snacks were scattered over the table and the movie’s credits were rolling before Mammon noticed that you had fallen asleep on his shoulder. He smiled and pressed a chaste kiss to the top of your head.

“Sweet dreams human.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leviathan almost jumped out of his seat when the door slammed. His game jumped from his hands and he scrambled to catch it. Once it was secure again he turned to see who had almost made him drop his precious device, ready to yell at them.

He was used to seeing grumpy looks from people (even if they were only in his mind sometimes) but seeing that look on your face was something he wasn't used to.

His immediate instinct is to think you've finally gotten fed up with him. He knows it’s just his sin speaking but he can’t help the intrusive thoughts. You stayed up late playing video games with him last night, and now you-

Oh. You stayed up late last night. He knows when he goes a few days without sleeping, he gets irritable. Maybe you just couldn't go quite as long as he could before that happened.

As you stormed to your room, Levi followed you at a distance, saving and closing his game. When you reached your room, he approached you quietly.

"Hey." His voice was soft, "You want to relax together? We can watch your favourite anime? The new season just stared right? We can rewatch the rest to catch up."

You smiled. Levi watching something you wanted to rather than rewatching The Tale of the Seven Lords meant a lot. "Yeah, I'd like that."

You only watched the first two episodes before you slipped into a comfortable slumber. Levi pulled a blanket over you and turned down the volume of the show. He’d stay here until you woke up. After all, he needed to see what happened in this show his partner loved so much.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Satan recognised that look. It was an outward display of an emotion he felt more than he cares to admit.

He felt bad for you. He knows what it's like to have days where everything is just too much and there was nothing you could do to keep it together other than try to scare everyone away.

He also knew that it was partly his fault. Mammon had been pestering him to help him study and he’d lost his patience, dragging him over to your room for some extra help. He should have dealt with his brother on his own and let you have some well-deserved peace and quiet.

If this was his fault, it was also his responsibility as your partner to help you feel better, as you had helped him so many times before.

He slipped a bookmark into his book and closed it, tucking it under one arm as he stood. He caught your gaze, so full of tired anger, and tilted his head in the direction of your room. He saw your shoulders drop almost imperceptibly and you followed him.

When you reached your room, Satan turned to face you. “Go on. You head in and get changed into your pyjamas. I’ll be back in ten minutes with some of your favourite books from my collection. I’ll read to you.”

You felt tears prick the back of your eyes as you smiled at him.

True to his word, Satan brought back all of your favourite books. He tucked you under the covers, your head on his lap and he read to you, his voice low and smooth. Only a few pages in and you were already asleep but Satan read on. He wanted to still be here when you woke up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Asmo audibly gasped when he saw the grumpy look on your face. Didn’t you know that sort of expression would give you wrinkles?

Well, he knew just what to do! You’d grabbed his bag for him this morning when he’d forgotten it so the least he could do was share his bath and his favourite self-care products with his lovely partner!

Asmo jumped out of his seat and grabbed your hand, ignoring your half-hearted attempts to tell him that you just weren’t in the mood right now. He didn’t stop until you were standing in his bathroom.

“Alright, get undressed and I’ll run the bath!”

He was off before you could even protest. The lights were turned down and a few dozen candles scattered around the room were lit, their flames dancing softly. Asmo dumped his favourite bubble mixture into the bath and lined up the skin care and hair products he knew would work best for you.

As you climbed into the bath, Asmo slid in behind you. When he had taken his clothes off, who knew, but he was pouring shampoo into his palm before you could properly register the situation.

“Lean back, let me wash your hair.”

You smiled as you leant back onto his chest. Some self-care would be good after the day you’d had.

Asmo smiled down at your sleeping form. The bath had had just the relaxing effect he had hoped for and now you were blissfully lost in your dreams. Now he just needed to figure out how to get you out of the bath, dried, changed, and into your bed. Oh well, he could rest here a bit longer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Beel felt terrible. It was entirely his fault that you hadn't had any breakfast. Demons could go a while without food but he knew humans weren't like that. He should have restrained himself.

So he had foregone his afternoon workout to drop by Madam Screams to get your favourite snacks. Of course he had picked up a few for himself but he had been waiting until you got home before he started.

Now, he picked up the picnic basket full of food and waved you over. Your expression lightened slightly as you walked over. No doubt you could smell the food. Beel knew he would have the same reaction if he was in your place.

He gently took your hand and led you to your room. He had been in earlier and set up a small picnic blanket on the floor, accompanied by a vase of flowers and an assortment of cushions. He let got of your hand and placed the basket on the floor, opening it up to reveal the food inside.

“I wanted to apologise for breakfast. So I got you this.” He patted the pile of cushions next to where he was sitting.

You took the seat gratefully and began helping him take the snacks out of the basket. All of your favourites were there and you felt touched by his thoughtfulness. Beel made sure you ate your share before he had any, restraining his sin to show you how truly sorry he was.

You were stretched out on the floor, nestled in cushions, curled into Beel’s side. He lifted a hand to wipe a stray crumb of food from your cheek before wrapping his arm around you. He knew he should carry you to bed…but a few more minutes snuggled up with his partner right here wouldn’t hurt right?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Belphie almost fell of the couch when the door slammed shut. He had just been about to find out who the mastermind behind his dream escapades was when he was rudely awakened. He picked himself up off the floor and turned to see who had woken him up.

Yikes! If you’d looked like that when he’d broken out of the attic, he would have had second thoughts about whether you were really human. That look was certainly equal to some glances he’d caught from demons before.

He remembered last night’s gaming extravaganza with you and Levi. As avatar of sloth, he could feel the exhaustion rolling off you in waves. Well, he was certainly the best person to help fix that.

He threw a pillow at you before grabbing one of his own and a blanket and waving for you to follow him into the observatory. When he stopped and turned around, he thought he glimpsed a shimmer of mischief in your eyes, as though you were about to retaliate for the pillow he’d thrown at you. But you just laid your pillow down next to his.

He stretched out on the ground and pulled the blanket over both of you. Almost instantly, he felt the pull of sleep. But first, he needed to make sure his partner was comfortable.

He felt you shift as you turned to face him. “Thanks Belphie. I needed this.” You curled into his side and closed your eyes, breathing almost instantly settling into that of someone fast asleep.

Belphie let sleep overtake him as well as he turned to wrap his arms around you.

A few hours later, Belphie’s eyes fluttered open. He gazed down at you and sensed that you were still sleeping deeply. He pressed a gentle kiss onto your forehead before closing his eyes and letting sleep pull him under again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Diavolo shot Lucifer a disapproving glance as soon as he saw you slam the front door of the House of Lamentation behind you. Why was his favourite transfer student not their usual self? He watched you storm off to your room before turning back to Lucifer.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to postpone our meeting.”

Lucifer nodded, gathering up the papers on the table between them. Diavolo made his way to your room, knocking gently on the door.

“Go away. I’m not in the mood right now.” Your voice was muffled through the wood.

“Not even in the mood to say hello to your loving partner?”

He heard you moving and stepped back as you opened the door. Now that he was closer to you, he could see the dark circles under your eyes. You opened the door wider to let him in. He slipped through and, before your could react, had scooped you up in his arms. He carried you over to your bed placing you gently on the mattress.

He walked back over to the door before turning to face you again. “Get changed and let me know when I can come back in. Then you can tell me about your day.” And he closed the door behind him.

When you called out to him, Diavolo re-entered the room, locking the door behind him. He sat down on the bed next to you and stretched out an arm, laying it over your shoulders. “So. How is my favourite exchange student.”

And he listened to you as you explained your day, voice growing softer as you felt sleep creeping over you. When you had been silent for a few minutes, Diavolo checked on you. He smiled when he saw that you were asleep. After the day you’d had, you certainly deserved it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#writing #fanfic #request #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me shall we date x reader #lucifer #lucifer x reader #mammon #mammon x reader #leviathan #leviathan x reader #satan #satan x reader #asmodeus #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub #beelzebub x reader #belphegor #belphegor x reader #diavolo #diavolo x reader #obey me nightbringer #obey me nightbringer x reader

[hanaruri-tunes]

Spoiling Belphie rotten (then Beel joins in because he can) Belphie x reader

⚠️MDNI⚠️

Hiii I'm back and here are the warnings (?): Degradation, praise, mommy kink, breast sucking, mention of lactation, breeding kink, yandere belphie, threesome, bj

Sorry if I forgot something, I'm still not used to tumblr's "smut culture" ajfhzhufude putting on those warnings feels more like I'm just tagging my smut. (But I guess that's ultimately the point?) Reader/MC is cisfemale in this one.

I still have no idea what I'm doing, in case you hadn't noticed. Hopefully I'm not making a fool of myself too bad aaaaaaa. Here goes.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

You were the only one who had the ability to wake Belphie up with ease. As soon as he heard your voice, his consciousness would spring back up. When you touched him, gently shaking him, his eyes would open on the spot. Although there was no magical or scientific explanation behind this, Belphie's brothers and even Belphie himself had now given you the task of waking him up everyday. Since you were the only one capable of such a feat.

But when it came to matters Belphegor wasn't interested in… he would give a hard time to you as well.

"Hnngh don't wannaa. If it's not for school what's the use?"

"Are you serious? Diavolo invited us for dinner, that's not something we get everyday. Also, we warned you not to sleep during the day today in order to avoid this exact scenario..."

"Hnnnghhhh."

Even YOU were at a loss on what to do now. Maybe you should really go without him… No. Lucifer had tasked you with this and you didn't want to disappoint.

"Come on, make just a little effort. If you do, I'll give you a reward after we come back."

Although you couldn't see it because Belphie was facing the wall, at that moment his eyes shot wide open. He took a moment to recollect his thoughts.

"Hmm… what kind of reward?"

Not really having anything particular in mind, you give him a standard answer. The kind that will inevitably become a big mistake later.

"Anything you want. You can decide- Oh but something that is in my power obviously aha."

You said that while sitting on the side of his bed. Belphie would always wonder how you could so casually just invade his space like this and not expect any retribution. A small smirk appeared on his face before he shifted sides and turned towards you, facing you.

"You're really oblivious and reckless, how cute."

He says with his cute little head laying on the pillow. Does he realize how painful it is for you to wake him up everyday when he looks so peaceful? So comfy in his bed that you sometimes get the urge to join him and go back to sleep.

"Wow, rude. Come on sleeping beauty, Lucifer will get mad if you don't hurry it up."

As expected, from there things go fairly smoothly. As soon as you all arrive at the castle, Barbatos takes you to the dining hall where Diavolo was waiting. He then shares some of the future projects he has in mind for the devildom hoping for the brothers' help as well as your own. You weren't really worried about what Belphie would ask you after you made it back home but the question did stay in the back of your mind throughout the entirety of the evening. Looking back, you really should've asked instead of brushing him off.

Well, wherever. Making your way back to the house of lamentation, all of you were carrying "leftovers" from the dinner but really, it was mostly just a gift for Beel. Diavolo knew how big of an eater he is and there's no way even a royal dinner would satiate this monster of a stomach he has. As you all left the food in the kitchen and let Beel devour it all, everyone started making their way back to their rooms. Everyone except Belphie.

"You're coming with me, right?"

"For?"

"The reward. Don't tell me you forgot?"

"Ah well, sure? I mean- I just didn't think that we necessarily needed to be in your room for you to ask something from me."

Belphie chuckles. Somehow it kind of gets on your nerves as you feel like he's mocking you. Well, no matter. Making your way up there, Belphie invites you to sit on his bed. Your back against the headboard.

"Um. Thank you?"

You feel your cheeks heating up. You always feel like you have to keep an "attitude" with him just as he does with you, but seeing how he has quite literally invited you into his bed, you're starting to have some *thoughts* you wish you weren't having right now. It wasn't like doing dirty things to him never crossed your mind but you weren't 100% sure if he ever had ideas like these as well. Unsure, you would never lay your hands on him more than necessary, worried that it might be too much too soon. Well, you were about to find out that this was never a concern of his.

He joins you, laying his back on your thighs.

"Could you cradle me Y/N?"

You blink.

"Uh, like, a baby?"

"Hmm not exactly. But I'll call you mommy if that's what you want."

You almost choke on your own spit.

"W-wha?? Did you really just say that?"

Annoyed, Belphie himself places your left hand over his shoulders while he's still laying down on you. He then places his head on your chest, rubbing against your breasts like a spoiled little brat.

"It's truly so cute how you're still trying to stay guarded and dignified in a moment like this. Do you really think I would invite just anyone into my bed?"

Your heart rate picks up at the insinuation and you're pretty sure Belphie can hear it.

"Ooohh~ So you do get it. Can you take your top off?"

This was the twins' room. Beel might be busy right now but once he's back… How would he react if he saw what the two of you were doing?

…

Ahhgh. Fuck it.

You take your top off and your bra, Belphie's face lights up with a shit-eating grin. The really thrilled kind that pisses you off for some reason.

"We've got a real pervert here. I only asked you to take your top off yet you went all the way. Oh nooo~, I unknowingly invited an indecent person into my bed, whatever shall I dooo~"

You flick his forehead.

"Shut it, you're the one who's… A-anyway, why am I the only one taking layers off? Shouldn't you do the same?"

Belphie snuggles against your bare chest, hugging you. Then he leaves a kiss on one of your pink tips.

"Well I'd like to unbuckle my pants but my hands are too busy holding you~ Please do it for me?"

Frustrated by how he's obviously babying himself up for you, and yet he still manages to look cute while being obvious, you follow his "suggestion" and unbuckle his pants. Revealing that he's already quite hard. Well at least that part of him isn't lying…

As you wrap your soft fingers around his length with your right hand, your left arm is still cradling him against your chest as he starts to kiss, lick and pull on your sweet spots. He smiles as he sees how pleased his touch makes you feel.

"Mommy~ why is your chest not dripping with milk? Is it broken?"

"G-God shut the fuck up…"

You try to keep your focus on your right hand, the one that is stroking and pumping him, desperately trying to make him feel as good as you feel right now. You don't want to be mocked for not being able to perform as well as he can. In fact, isn't this already what he's doing?

Noticing your worry, Belphie makes an effort to reach for your lips, kissing them lovingly.

"Calm down honey, you're too tense. I'll show you what makes me feel good."

Unwrapping one of his arms from you, he reaches out for your right hand, putting his hand around yours. As he does, you notice how much bigger his hand is compared to your small, soft hand. Yet he's supposed to be the youngest of his brothers.

Belphie still suckles on you, but in between his devious tongue doing god's work, he's also mumbling a bit as he guides your hand.

"No need to be hasty… I like it slow and gentle at the beginning… Just grip it more forcefully when I'll be close to cumming, I'll take care of the pace."

You keep doing this for a couple more minutes, from time to time you kiss him on the head or on the forehead to which he responds with a soft "mommy" against your breasts. You're starting to like being called like this. To return the favor you also call him baby a couple of times to which he responds with a long suckle on your breasts.

He's just so cute… The only problem is that you're starting to get unbearably wet.

"B-Baby?"

"Mh-hm?"

"Um, c-can we hurry it up? Sorry but I- ugh. I-I need some help down there unless you want me to stain your bed…"

Suddenly, Belphie's dick leaks with precum.

"S-Shit."

His hand's grip on yours tightens up and you understand just how strong he really is, he quickens the pace but it's not enough. The air around him darkens as he unconsciously changes to his demon form.

"Agghh this won't do."

He makes you let go of him and he stands up on the bed, pushing his dick in front of your face with a scarily tense expression. He's extremely turned on, looking down on you. That's when you know this baby-mommy nonsense is over. Belphie places his right hand on your head while pumping his dick with the other. You can tell it's taking him an immeasurable amount of self-restraint to not yank your head and shove his cock down your throat, humping it until he releases himself in you.

"Y/N, say ahh~"

Obediently, you grab into his thighs and open up your pretty mouth for him. He cums all over your face and tongue. When he's done, he closely watches you tasting him and wiping your face off with your hands that are now covered in his seed. Funnily enough, his tastes like condensed milk… it really fits him.

Calming himself down a bit, he sits back down in front of you then grabs you.

"Belphie?"

You have no idea how he does it so quickly, but before you have even realized what's about to happen, you were on your hands and knees with your skirt and underwear down. Your ass facing him as he's already brushing the tip of his cock on your wet cunt. He whistles.

"You weren't kidding. It's a mess down there."

"Ah- H-Hold on, what if Beel comes in?"

He gently places his big hand on your back, pushing you down slowly onto the bed, as if he's taming you. Your face is now on his pillow while your ass is prettily in the air, giving him a good view of your privates.

"Ssshhh. Don't think about that. Don't worry, I know what I'm doing baby."

As if your roles were switched, he was the one calling you baby now.

Not that it mattered anymore to you. You let go of all of your worries to be in the moment. The moment in which Belphie is about to enter you and make an even bigger mess of your insides. With one hand firmly on your waist, he uses his other hand to slowly open you, pushing his dick inside as gently and slowly as he can.

As you feel his length entering you, you realize just how hot a demon's dick is. You thought your insides were warm but his might be even warmer. You squirm under him, calling his name. Almost unknowingly, you reach out for his hand on your waist, placing yours on top of his as he had done earlier to guide you. Except in your case it wasn't for guidance, you just wanted to caress his hand that was so satisfyingly wrapped on your body.

"Belphie… Y-You're so good… Ungh."

Belphie chuckles.

Then you sense some sort of unfamiliar danger emanating from him. The kind that strangely excites you. As you notice that "danger", Belphie leans in over you, wrapping your entire body under his, then he whispers.

"You dumb little bitch♡ You still don't get that I'm about to breed you, huh? I'll fill every nook and cranny of your tight cunt while you'll be helplessly whimpering and calling my name. How cute is that?"

You've always tried really hard to keep up with Belphie. His sloth aside, he always had a nasty attitude, not in a "violent" way but it was like he would look down on you from a place of infatuation. You knew he found you cute and adorable but you never truly understood what it would mean for the long run. Thus you would also keep your guard up with him, trying to "not be looked down on" from his sadistic love for you. Well, now it was clear that you had failed and honestly? Being defiled like this felt embarrassingly good.

He started pounding into you from behind, his weight all over your back as you let yourself lose. Even going as far as drooling all over his pillow.

"That's it! That's the face I've wanted to see all this time! Isn't it annoying to always pretend to be responsible? To always try to meet everyone's shitty expectations of you? This is it. Let yourself sink. Aaahh you're so slutty and adorable, IloveyouIloveyou-"

As you felt like you were about to completely lose yourself to pleasure, the door of the room flung open.

"Belphie, do you know where Y/N… is…"

Beel was done with the leftovers. And now you two were done for too. You were about to panic but Belphie caressed your head, calming you down.

"Sssshhh I got this."

With a calm smile, Belphie turned over to face Beel.

"Ah Beel, yeah sorry. Could you close the door and come here for a sec? Oh- And keep this a secret from the others please."

Beel silently does as he's told, then in disbelief, he sits on his bed across from Belphie's.

"Uh. So. Isn't it better for me to leave?"

Belphie laughs, all carefree. As if he wasn't just calling you a slut and pounding into you like a dog in heat a second ago.

"Leave? We're just starting. In fact we were waiting for you!"

…

What?

You manage to fight off the embarrassment and lift your face up from the pillow. Shooting daggers at Belphie.

"You see, Y/N here reaaaally wants us to fuck her raw but since she's too shy and reserved to admit that, I took matters into my own hands. Would you care to help us?"

"Help with…"

Beel looks at you and the state you're in, then looks away in embarrassment. He's fidgeting with his hands, a bit lost.

"O-Only if Y/N is fine with it. If she tells me I can, I'll do it."

You should've seen this coming. Belphie shares absolutely everything with Beel and vice-versa. So even going as far as sharing a "partner"... well it was always in the realm of possibility.

The twins look at you, you can tell they're begging you to say yes through their eyes. Their gazes full of hope. You sigh. Well… If you're going to whore yourself out… You are going all the way.

"You can join us Beel. But please show at least a little bit of restraint when needed. I don't want it to hurt…"

Beel smiles gently and nods. Belphie smiles deviously and hugs you.

"That's our Y/N! ♡"

Well at the very least, you feel like you can trust Beel to monitor Belphie's behavior in bed… Nervously, Beel gets up from his bed, making his way towards you.

"Uh so, how can I help?"

Belphie looks over at his pillow still covered with a bit of your drool and he chuckles.

"Hmm. Well you see… Y/N has trouble keeping her mouth closed when I fuck her. She needs something to fill her mouth with or else she'll make a mess on my pillow. Not that I mind but I suppose Y/N is quite embarrassed about it…"

The little shit was right. You can't even look back at the pillow, too scared to see just how much you've left behind. Before you can even understand what's happening, Beel was already standing in front of the bed, his waist lining up perfectly with you. He starts to unbuckle his belt before Belphie stops him.

"Ah, wait Beel. Y/N likes doing this part, let her unbuckle it."

This fucker was right again. How does he understand your secret wishes so well? Scary. Without complaining, you gently move Beel's hands away from his front. He blushes at the sight of you unbuckling then unzipping his pants. So much so that his length is already half ready to make his way into your mouth.

You stare at it a bit, observing its size and shape then looking up at Beel who's too shy to look at you directly for longer than 2 seconds. How is he genuinely so cute while Belphie is so not?

But nothing gets past Belphie.

"Y/N~ You just thought something quite rude right now, didn't you?"

Placing his hand behind your head, he pushes you towards Beel's dick.

"Come on. Since you like Beel so much better than me, why aren't you sucking him off yet?"

You hit Belphie's arm as Beel also tells him off, warning him not to be too pushy with you. Well, no matter. You start off by gently kissing Beel's tip, making him grit his teeth at how cute and kind you are to start off so politely. Then you take him in slowly, a bit clumsily. Not sure on how to keep your teeth from touching his shaft, hoping that you're not doing a lousy job… Especially since Belphie is looking at you doing it so closely. Probably regretting that moment from earlier, when he decided against shoving his dick into your throat.

A bit frustrated. He goes back to where he stopped before Beel walked in. He enters you as slowly as the first time, making sure you get used to him being inside you again… Yet you just can't, feeling him fucking you from behind while having to pay attention to how you're taking care of Beel is quite difficult. Belphie and Beel notice your discomfort right away. Beel tells you not to worry about getting everything right while Belphie comments on how cute it is that you're trying so hard to please them, that in on itself is already pleasing.

As the three of you pick up the pace and get lost into the act, the twins' true colors resurface. Or rather, the way they express their love for you becomes very clear. Whenever Belphie spanks you or thrusts into you too hard, Beel warns him to be careful and to make sure he's not hurting you. Belphie retorts that you actually like it when it hurts a little bit which ticks you off because his observation is right.

As you carefully suck him off, Beel keeps petting you and caressing your cheek, praising you. Telling you how good of a job you're doing and how adorable you look. To contrast that, Belphie takes any excuse possible to mock you. Telling you how perverted your mind and body are. Degrading you satisfyingly.

"Everytime Beel calls you a good girl I can feel you tighten up. So you're the kind of whore who likes to be praised for being filthy, hm?"

Beel takes over and reassures you.

"He's just teasing you Y/N. You're so cute and pretty right now that it's hard for him not to pick on you. Please forgive him."

This constant cycle of mockery then praise and praise then mockery makes you shudder from pleasure. Being called a dirty slut from behind, treated roughly. Meanwhile your mouth and head are being treated so kindly, Beel caressing you and calling you cute, smart and pretty. It didn't take long for you to break. You could feel them getting close to release as well and as soon as they called out to you at the same time, it was over.

"Good girl."

"Pervy bitch."

As expected of twins, they managed to sync their climax not only between each other but with you as well. Belphie's load was even hotter than his cock, filling you entirely, you could feel the juices leak embarrassingly from your hole once he pulled out. As for Beel, his seed tasted like thick honey. You drank it as best as you could, making sure that Beel knew how delicious he tastes.

Utterly exhausted, you collapsed on your back, facing the ceiling. Completely fucked out. They joined you, hugging you from each side. Belphie was back to acting like a spoiled little fucker, rubbing his cheek on your breasts.

"Beel~ Join in, it's so soft."

Beel shoots a glance at your chest, then at you.

"Can I?"

You nod, your mind so blank that you don't even take the trouble of uttering a simple "yes." And so Beel follows Belphie's lead, softly laying his cheek on your other breast."

"Beel~ Once Y/N is pregnant her breasts will lactate and we'll be able to drink her milk. Imagine how good it'll taste."

Beel's eyes light up. Oh no.

"Y/N's… milk…"

He lifts his head up, looking at your nipples, then starts sucking on them. You worriedly call out to him.

"Beel! Nothing will come out y-you know?!"

"But still, just imagining it feels good."

"Doesn't it?"

Belphie agrees then joins in on the licking and sucking. You're done for. Two cute boys are treating you like their mommy and chances are, they'll have a second go at you in a few minutes once they notice how wet you've gotten from feeling their tongues all over your chest…

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Wegh that was a long one. As always don't hesitate to leave a comment, even a keyboardsmash is greatly appreciated!! Share how you've lost your mind 🫰

#obey me #obey me smut #om! belphegor #om! belphie #belphegor #om! beelzebub #om! beel #obey me nightbringer #belphie smut #beel smut #hanaruri writes

[cherryxblossxms]

Masturbation May - Day 3b: In the Shower (Satan)

A/N: Satan was suggested for day 3 by an anonymous sender! I couldn't quite decide the direction I wanted for this initially but finally just settled on some good ol stress relief via orgasm lol.

Featuring: GN reader || Satan x reader

Warnings: masturbation; some jealous Satan; mentions of marking and breeding (not specific to reader); just some much-needed self-assurance and stress relief in the shower~

Word count: 1411

══════════════════

Satan just needed some kind of stress relief. He knew it was just his temper, easier and quicker to rile up thanks to his sin. But it seemed like everything was going wrong lately, getting on his nerves and pushing him to the edge of exploding. Lucifer was yelling at him about something or other, his favorite cat café had to close early because of an emergency with the owner, and his brothers were all getting into silly, nonsense arguments with each other.

Normally, these things alone wouldn't be enough to make him snap completely. But to top it all off, you had gone on a trip to the Human Realm with Solomon two weeks ago, supposedly for some training and gathering some items specific to your home. In your absence, the House of Lamentation always fell into chaos, no one to buffer the ridiculousness and provide a voice of reason.

Satan knew he shouldn't blame you, or use you as a means of resolving everyone's problems. But your presence was like a magic balm, easing his spirit and always managing to wrestle the others into compliance. And now all this pent up stress was leaving aches in his muscles and gave him a near constant migraine.

He couldn't even focus on his books, attempting to read through various tomes on his ever-lasting quest for the perfect curse for Lucifer, but realizing halfway through that he wasn't absorbing any of the information. He snapped the heavy book shut in anger, sending out a plume of dust that covered his upper half. Satan coughed and set the book aside.

Great, now he was both dirty and angry.

Trying to keep his boiling rage contained, he quickly gathered clean clothes and made his way to the bathroom, hoping against all odds that no one else was in there, or he'd really snap for good. Thankfully, the room was clear, and he quickly undressed as the water grew hot.

Once he was in the water, he sighed, the heat helping to relieve his aching muscles. Although he wouldn't admit it, he often wondered about taking up an offer from Asmo for a spa treatment. He was sure he needed it, and that it'd probably do wonders for his temperament, at least for a little while. Relaxation of the body is supposed to help relaxation of the mind, he figured.

Sadly, the relief didn't last long as his now unbusied thoughts kept going back to all the annoying things happening lately. He just wanted one day of peace, of not being nagged by Lucifer for sneaking in a stray cat, or not hearing the constant whine of Levi hounding Mammon for his money. And thinking of you, he hated being away from you for so long. It was unfair that you had left him, not to mention traveling with Solomon.

Although he was usually secure in his relationship with you, something still bothered him about you being alone with the Witty Sorcerer for so long. Not that Satan didn't trust you, he knew you would never cheat on him. But he wasn't always sure he trusted Solomon and his flirty, flowery words.

Just thinking of it made his skin itch, picturing Solomon trying to court you, to take you from him. Even though he knew he was completely blowing it out of proportion, the thoughts came unbidden to him. The next time he saw you, Satan resolved he'd have to leave his mark on you, to ensure no one, especially Solomon, could ever mistake who you belong to.

The more he thought of marking you, the faster his blood pumped, something ancient and instinctual waking up in his veins. He wanted to cover you in his scent, make sure all anyone else could smell for miles was him. He wanted to leave his fang marks in your skin, leave dark hickeys across your neck and chest, somewhere highly visible so no one could mistake his intentions.

Even better, he wanted to mark you with his seed, cover you outside but especially inside, as deep as he could manage, make sure it could never leave you. It didn't matter if you could get pregnant or not, the deep animalistic need still roared inside him to do it anyway. That final thought sent a throbbing pulse down to his dick, and Satan didn't even realize he was completely hard until his hand was already subconsciously wrapping around his cock and stroking.

He wanted you there, he needed to show you that he was all you ever needed. He was your mate, your lover, and everything you ever wanted, he would provide to you as long as you'd let him. He would show you, he could pleasure you a thousand times over with the way he knows your body, so that no one, especially Solomon, could ever compare.

Satan cursed. Now he was so hard it hurt, needing you in his arms, and on his cock, immediately. The rest of his body was relaxed but now all the ache sat in his groin, begging to be inside of you. You weren't due to be home for another week, and he knew there was no ignoring his erection at this point, so he settled for relieving himself for now, already formulating a plan of attack (of the pleasurable variety) for once you returned.

He shut the water off and quickly stepped out, thankful that you two kept a spare bottle of lube under the bathroom sink. He poured some on his hand as he re-entered the shower and continued stroking. He felt ridiculous, all pent up over his dumb worries and demonic needs, and wanted nothing more than to drown his worries in the pleasures of your body. Only you seemed to know how to truly relax him, but a fantasy would have to do.

He could just picture it, the moment you came back from your trip, how he'd pull you into his room and make sure you didn't go anywhere until you were thoroughly pleasured and marked by him. He wanted to taste your lips, feel your warm, bare skin against his, hear your affirmations that he was the only one for you. The next time you saw Solomon, Satan wanted it to be obvious that he knew your body inside and out and that Solomon wasn't nearly worthy enough to be your mate.

Now fueled by anger and his lust for you, his thoughts were really letting loose. He wanted you sprawled across his bed, legs tossed over his shoulders as he pounded into you, or maybe he'd have you ride him until you couldn't hold yourself up anymore. Maybe to reassure his worries, you'd take his cock down your throat, knowing how gorgeous you look when you struggle to fit him in your mouth.

He pumped his cock faster, using one hand to hold his base steady and add more pressure, chasing that sweet high. As water droplets dripped from his hair onto his body, Satan imagined pulling you into the shower with him, picking you up to fuck you against the wall, letting your moans and screams of his name echo in the bathroom to ensure everyone in the house knew exactly who was pleasuring you. He'd fuck you as long and as hard as you could stand it, making sure to reach the furthest depths within you, as long as you wanted him.

Satan was now panting as his climax approached, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He used the last of his sense to picture bringing you to climax, eager to cum deep inside you, release all his stress into you, and feel you clench around his cock and milk him dry. Just dreaming of achieving that pushed him into that pleasurable zone, and he groaned deep in his throat as he released the first ropes of cum, moving his hand up to work the head of his cock, drawing out every bit of pleasure and cum he could.

He came a surprising amount, likely from lack of release while you'd been gone, and he felt a little sad about the waste as it washed down the drain. But now that his mind was cleared, and his body was well and truly relaxed, he couldn't wait for your return. He was going to make sure everyone knew that you were his, and relieve all his stress with you the way only you could do.

#satan x reader #obey me satan #obey me shall we date #obey me smut #satan smut #spicy minx 🔥 #the minx can write ✍️

[everlasting-elegy]

May I request something like your "let's go home" work (with Lucifer and mammon) but with beel belphie and leviathan instead? I would love to see how they'd react to you calling HOL your home. - ⛓️

I TOOK MY SWEET TIME I'M SO SORRY SKDFJSKD BUT IT'S DONE!! Thank you for requesting ⛓️anon!! Unfortunately I couldn't think up anything for Beel, my mind blanked but I hope you enjoy Belphie and Levi's parts!!

"Let's Go Home" | Belphegor, Leviathan

It was just a slip of the tongue by you, but he didn’t miss it. Despite being in an entirely different realm, you called the House of Lamentation your home. Genre: Fluff, slight angst Word Count: 1.1k Warning: Levi self-deprecation

Belphegor

Belphegor has long accepted that you will never truly be at ease around him. For all he’s done it was to be expected, but he tried. He did what he could to pick up the shattered pieces of what you two could have had, putting it together into some wonky form of a pleasant relationship for all to see. But he was sure that when it was just you and him, you will always have your wits about you. He just supposes that for now and forever he will have to be satiated with just you standing around him.

So imagine his surprise when you barge into his shared bedroom, bringing Belphie out of his slumber. He noticed your slumped posture, how your shoulder deflated in time to your hefty sigh. And then the two of you made eye contact. The grip on his pillow instinctively tightened.

“Looking for Beel?”

“Looking for some peace and quiet,” you muttered as you sent a wary glare to the closed door behind you. Even through the timber, you could hear the distant shouts and heavy footsteps on Leviathan chasing up Mammon on unpaid debts.

“Shouldn’t have come to the House of Lamentation, then,” Belphie murmured.

You offered a half hearted chuckle - you didn’t have the energy for anything more than that - before walking up to him. You did not notice how Belphie’s eyes were trained on you in confusion and curiosity as you wordlessly joined him on his bed (or if you did, you spoke nothing of it). It was a little awkward at first as you tried to make yourself comfortable beside a Belphie who was wondering if he was still dreaming. As you lightly pulled at his pillow, he wasted no time to obey, almost throwing it across the other side of the room. You slotted into his arms instead, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck. Instinctively one arm of his was around your waist, the other following your spine until his hand rested on the back of your head. To him, you were the perfect fit.

“Yeah, but I wanted to be home,” you whispered as you wriggled a little, trying to snuggle closer into him.

The seventh faltered. He dared to tighten his hold on you ever so slightly, just for a bit more reassurance that this was more than a lucid dream. This wouldn’t have been the first time his mind betrayed him like this, after all.

“... this is… home to you?”

“Yeah?” Your words had become a little slurred with fatigue, and Belphie had half the mind to tease you out of how adorable you sounded. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

He opened his mouth to reply, but then closed it when he realised his voice failed him. He wanted to question you, he knew he wasn’t exactly the most accommodating nor the most soothing. But then again, who was he to doubt your tastes? He was the dear, spoiled youngest brother, and if you were going to spoil him with your attention he'll simply eat it up. So instead, he let his lips settle into a comfortable grin that only widened when he heard your soft snores, and stayed on his face even when he fell asleep.

Leviathan

“That’s it, I’m going home,” you sighed in exasperation, rubbing your face for a bit before turning away. A pop up store providing exclusive merchandise was in Devildom for only three days and Levi just had to try it. Despite the two of you queuing for two hours, you caught wind of said products were already sold out. Walking away, Levi turned to you in a panic, eyes wide in disbelief at your announcement. Without a second thought he was holding you still with both of his hands clutching onto your wrist as he bowed down, shaking his head disapprovingly at himself.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!”

He didn’t even know what he was apologising for, but it felt like it was the right thing to do as cold sweat started to gather at his temples. He was apologising for everything with those few words. Sorry for making you wait, sorry for dragging you along with him, heck he should never have even brought up his stupid little otaku pop up shop! And now you’ve had one too many of his antics and now you want to leave the Devildom entirely, don’t you? He’s sorry his presence is such a detriment! He’s sorry that he himself doesn’t have the power to send you back to the human realm where you want to be, but he’s also sorry that he’s so selfish that he doesn’t want you to leave. And what will Lucifer and the rest of the brothers say when they realise he’s the one that made you want to leave them?

Upon feeling that you weren’t moving, Levi mustered all of his draining confidence to dare look up at you, and upon seeing your face a mix of concern and confusion, he ended up mirroring it.

“Levi it’s okay, let’s just go home,” your tone was soothing now as you squeezed his hand.

“B-but…” Levi froze as you watched him curiously, the gears visibly turning in his head. “I don’t know how to get you back… well, I do but I’m not powerful enough. I’m sorry for being such a useless-”

“Levi!” you pleaded, tugging him gently and he started to walk with you. “I’m sure you know the way back to the House of Lamentation.”

“... eh?”

“The House of Lamentation?” You repeated, a smile creeping up your face as Levi looked absolutely stupefied.

The House of Lamentation? Home?

There was once a time where he could never comprehend the House of Lamentation as home, all of Devildom was unfit for him. Perhaps that was the forgotten part of envy, the ego that believed he was too good for such a world. And now look at where it has taken him, he’s stooped down to the level of demons whether he liked it or not. And that voice hasn’t disappeared, it has only been pushed back to the corner of his mind, quiet but still there, chastising himself for letting himself go, descending to the depths.

Similarly, he always thought Devildom was unfit for you; you were far too good for anything here, including himself. But if you keep smiling at him like that and insist on staying here, perhaps your own brilliance will make this realm worth your while.

Your hand is in his and his grip tightens.

“Oh- um, home? Y-yeah! I can take you there, then.”

Obey Me! Masterlist

#obey me #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #belphegor x reader #belphegor x mc #belphegor x y/n #belphegor x you #obey me belphegor #leviathan x reader #leviathan x mc #leviathan x you #leviathan x y/n #obey me leviathan #obey me fluff #obey me headcanons #everelegy writes #everelegy obey me #⛓️anon

[obae-me]

Could you maybe do hc's for Diavolo where Mc is just super casual with him

Like they don't give two shits about his status. They treat him like he's just some guy they play beer pong with every Saturday

Demon Prince can't have a normal day in Devildom because, well, he's a prince? No problem lets just go to the human world

Absolutely I can. Casual Diavolo is one of my favorite types of Diavolo. Please enjoy some of these headcanons.

Homies in Hell

It surprised the both of them when MC didn't seem immediately intimidated by Diavolo. Sure they were confused when they were first summoned down, but despite being in a strange place, being surrounded by strange people who said they were demons, and despite announcing himself as the future King of Demons, the human always looked at Diavolo differently.

Of course, he intended to keep up frequent contact with them to ensure they were settling in properly, and he was always pleased to find that they would typically strike up a conversation with him. It was fascinating! Exciting! They sent 'wyd'! He has no idea what that means! Even when he tries to talk to Lucifer sometimes, it typically leads back to business or responsibility.

They even come over to the castle sometimes as an escape. They come over and tell Diavolo all about the chaos in the House of Lamentation and he always laughs and thinks about how fun it would be to participate. Although he is glad that MC finds it comforting to come to the castle to get some peace. He encourages them to come whenever they wish.

Lucifer and Barbatos had a hard time with the both of them at first. One should not treat royalty so casually! And yet, if it's what the prince wanted...and if it would help MC acclimate... they could let it slide as long as it was kept under wraps. And as long as they both didn't lose sight of their duties. No one expected it would come this far though... The Butler almost had a heart attack the first time MC almost kicked the doors to the castle open and just shouted "Dia! What's up?"

Now, the lines of royalty are completely blurred for MC. Sure, they know he's a prince, but he doesn't feel that way to them. Diavolo is a very good friend.

Diavolo wants to convert the entire Castle into a magical maze for a game of hide and seek? Awesome! Diavolo wants to play a simple card game? They head over with the deck! Barbatos has been making nothing but fancy healthy meals lately? MC brings over some junk food. Diavolo wants to learn more about human culture? MC pulls out some classic memes. You better believe he's going to be talking about it like it's a new hip thing and drive everyone else insane. Maybe they partially do it on purpose.

They enjoy spending time with him this way though. It's very clear to them that no one has ever really treated him this way and it's a shame, because he's actually really fun to be around. He always has a blast with whatever they do and it makes MC really enjoy the simpler things in life.

Sometimes Diavolo will give Barbatos an order that forces him to leave the castle just so MC can come over and do things together. The first night he did this was so MC could come over with groceries and they both spent time in the kitchen celebrating Diavolo's first Taco Tuesday. He was elated.

Sometimes after very long periods of stressful Princely things, MC will fake an emergency and say they need to rush to the human world with Diavolo. They got away clean the first few times, but now everyone knows they're just going up there to have fun. A lot of times they both can be found in a mall eating pretzels and looking to buy things they don't need. (Even though Diavolo could quite literally buy anything he wanted, he finds the concept of a budget quite fun!)

Once, for Diavolo's birthday, they went up to the human world and went to a drive-thu movie and then went bowling right after. They ordered pizza and popcorn and nachos. He got to wear sweatpants for the first time and he had a blast. Although both Lucifer and Barbatos made MC and Diavolo eat strict healthy meals for the next week, but it was worth it. Now Dia tries to wear sweats when he works on paperwork late at night.

Everyone close to MC and Diavolo actually says that MC is the Devil on Diavolo's shoulder since they encourage him to do anything that he wants rather than what he's required to do. It's almost poetic.

Diavolo always gives MC a high five or a fist-bump anytime they see each other now and no one knows how to feel about this.

They've created a sort of bucket-list to get done. It lists a bunch of casual things that Diavolo has always wanted to do. Some of which require: camping in a tent and not a cabin, playing a full game of monopoly, taking cheesy pictures in one of those mall kiosks, playing dodgeball, making a sandcastle, trying one of those restaurant challenges where you either eat something gigantic or super spicy and getting a memento t-shirt, playing Just-Dance, going on a roadtrip with no location in particular, and more. The list is ever ongoing.

MC gifted Diavolo one of those little basketball hoops to keep on the wastebasket in his office for his work and he adores it.

Sometimes they'll just facetime (or whatever the demon equivalent is) while they're doing whatever. Just to talk.

MC's behavior honestly eventually rubs off on everyone which is Diavolo's secret dream. Now if he shows up at the House unannounced, the brothers will wave and just chat casually instead of freaking out that the prince is here. Even Lucifer and Barbatos aren't fully free from the casualness! Something about MC and Diavolo just makes everyone a little less tense. Sometimes Lucifer will wear a hoodie around the house and Barbatos will actually order take-out every so often.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me imagines #obey me headcanons #obey me diavolo