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another-lost-mc · 1 year ago

Note

I really liked the lactation headcanons for the brothers and Solomon! I was wondering if your planning to make more for the other characters?

A/N: This series was a wild ride. It started as crack-treated-seriously and then I kind of liked it more than I thought I would. The comments and requests along the way motivated me to keep going. If you were one of the readers waiting for these characters to show up, I hope the final installment was worth the wait!

LUCIFER, SATAN, DIAVOLO & BARBATOS, SIMEON, KARASU

5k words | NSFW/MDNI | gn!Reader

Content/warnings: due to magical mishaps, reader has larger, lactating breasts that are vaguely described. Mostly hurt/comfort, smut and fluff. Lactation kink, breast/nipple play, breast massaging/fondling, threesome/poly relationship, fingering, cockwarming, oral sex, rough sex. Reader pronouns: you/your, they/them.

More in the Lactation Kink series: Mammon | Levi, Asmo, Beel, Belphie | Solomon

LUCIFER

Lucifer thinks it's so precious when you cross your arms and insist he turn around so you can strip out of your soiled pajamas. Your chest strains against the buttons of the Devilmoth silk pajama shirt he bought you, and it’s dotted with wet spots from your leaking nipples. Your frown deepens when he insists that he’s seen you naked plenty of times before, but he finally relents with a sigh and turns to face the wall so you can undress.

He’s still not sure how this unusual situation occurred, but he has a gut feeling that a certain white-haired sorcerer has something to do with it. He’ll have to hunt Solomon down and string him up later as penance, but for right now, his only priority is making sure you’re comfortable and cared for.

The first thing he thought might help your stress and discomfort was sitting in a warm bath. He used his personal shower gel to add a bit of fragrance and foam to the water. The subtle notes of coffee and amber mix diffuse into the steamy air. He was afraid that Asmo’s floral bubble bath might be too overpowering.

(He secretly prefers that you use scented products that will remind you of him anyway.)

Once he hears the soft sloshing of bath water, he finally turns around. There’s a small stool perched in the corner of the room, and he drags it over so he can sit behind you. You look at him over your shoulder and comment that maybe it's best he leaves—you're afraid his clothes might get wet. He offers you a small smile but shakes his head and reminds you to stop being silly.

He assumes that your deflection is your attempt to draw his attention away from you and your body's recent changes. Your breasts are larger now, and he's hesitant to admit out loud that it’s a bit strange. It’s not the same body he’s mapped with his hands and worshipped with his tongue. But what he realized when he found you like this earlier, and what he hopes you'll always believe, is that it doesn’t matter what you look like. Nothing could ever change how he feels for you. You’ll always be stunning in his eyes, the single person who captivates him effortlessly with a smile, a touch, a kiss—all the things you offer freely that prove how much you love him.

He doesn't know how to change your body back, but what he can do is help you feel better instead. He starts by massaging your shoulders gently, and he feels the tension start to melt away under his fingers. Your arms float weightlessly in the water at your sides, and you’re no longer focused on shielding your chest from his view. He uses the opportunity to rake his greedy, curious eyes along your body. Glimpses of wet, naked skin peek through the fluffy layer of bubbles; the slick tops of your breasts rest just above the water’s surface.

He rolls up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows and scoots his seat a little closer. He kisses the ticklish spot below your ear while his hands curl over your shoulders and smooth down your chest. He cups the heavy weight of your tits in his palms, and his cock twitches when you sigh softly at his touch. You tip your head back against the edge of the porcelain tub so he has better access to the soft column of your throat. He kisses along your jaw and down your neck as his fingers pinch greedily at your swollen nipples. You push your chest against his hands encouragingly, a silent plea to keep going. He rolls the hardened buds between his fingers and smirks into the crook of your neck when you breathe out a quiet moan. He does it again and again, alternating pinching your nipples gently and massaging your breasts until you’re both desperate for more.

The bubbles slowly start to dissipate and he can see more of your naked body below the water’s surface. His cock aches when you start squirming in the water and clenching your thighs together; you're desperate for some sort of friction to relieve the heat building inside you. He’s tempted to tear off his clothes and lower himself into the bath with you, but your nipples have started leaking again. The creamy discharge expels into the water and lingers on the surface like a film. The renewed scent of warm milk in the air envelops him like a fog. He coaxes you to sit up straight, and your tits hang heavily from your chest, no longer buoyant in the bath water. He flicks his thumb across your nipple and gathers some of the pearly-white milk before sucking it into his mouth with a hum.

You shift in the tub to face him properly, and his eyes drink in the delectable sight of your warm cheeks, your lust-darkened eyes and your soft, pouty lips. Your eyes flick down when you notice the obvious bulge in his pants. You slowly lick your lips and all he can think of now is tracing your mouth with the tip of his cock. He thinks about thrusting himself gently into your mouth and teasing the back of your throat while you swallow around him. He’ll have to pull away before he comes because he wants to paint your skin with his release. The thought of his cum mixing with the drops of milk clinging to your tits makes his cock ache and throb against his zipper.

Fantasies can only satisfy him for so long, and he’s run out of patience for daydreams. He stands up and starts unbuttoning his shirt; he’s tempted to tear the damn thing open because the desire to have your mouth around his cock tests the limits of his self-control.

“The bath water is getting cool, my love,” he murmurs thickly. (It's not, but you don't correct him because you already know what he wants.) He keeps his hungry gaze locked with your own as he starts unbuckling his belt. “Rinsing off in a warm shower might be best for now—but this time, I think I’ll join you.”

SATAN

Satan is touched that you would ask him for help with your unfortunate little problem. Problems. He skimmed through his collection of human world medical texts before coming to your room but he’s not prepared for the reality when he walks through your door: the lactonic scent in the air, your damp night shirt that sticks to your swollen chest and hardened nipples, the apprehension in your eyes because you’re afraid he’ll tease you.

Your expression is hesitant because of your self-consciousness, but right now he wants nothing more than to comfort you, to help you so that this strange mishap passes as painlessly as possible. He sent word to Lucifer already and got permission for both of you to stay home: you can relax easier without the others loitering nearby, and he can take care of you in peace and quiet.

He sits at your desk and reads from a medical book in his lap. He explains that massaging might help with the excess fluid and the swelling that's causing you some discomfort. His cheeks burn flaming-hot because he's so tempted to offer to do it for you, but he doesn’t want to make you feel even more awkward or exposed.

He clears his throat and looks down at his book to give you some semblance of privacy. He pretends to read, but he steals glimpses of you from the corner of his eye instead. You peel away the sticky nightshirt and toss it aside, and his breath hitches when you cup your heavy tits in your hands. You hold them gently, looking down at them curiously like you haven’t really looked at them before. You squeeze them and utter a little gasp that makes his cock twitch inside his pants. You do it again, and again, and you try pinching one of your nipples too. There’s a fresh wave of milky scent in the air, and he can hear the quiet drip—drip—drips as the creamy fluid falls onto your lap.

His fingers twitch with the urge to touch, to squeeze your soft breasts himself. He desperately wants to hear more of your whiny little sounds in his ear as he plays with your tits, but he reminds himself that this isn't about him, this is about you.

(He doesn’t realize you’ve been watching him, too. He thinks he’s fooling you with the upside-down book in his lap that he’s clearly not reading, or the way his cheeks and the tips of his ears are bright-red from embarrassment or arousal—probably both—and the loudest sound in your room is his jerky, panted breaths.)

He stares blankly at nothing while he imagines what it might be like to watch your tits jiggle from the force of his thrusts as he fucks you. He thinks about squeezing them in his hands and watching the milky fluids seep between his fingertips. His mind races and he thinks about jerking off as he kneels over your stomach, spilling his release across your skin and watching his cum drip between the valley of your breasts into the little pools of your milk. He could gather it up on his fingers and feed it to you, if you’re curious what both of you taste like mixed together…?

He looks over in a panic when he realizes you’re trying to get his attention. From the mischievous smile on your face, apparently it wasn’t the first time you called his name. His eyes linger on your chest before he snaps his gaze up to yours, but you look even more devious now. His cock throbs between his legs when you lay back against your pillows, slowly and deliberately, and you start playing with your tits again.

You ask him in the sweetest, most innocent tone if he’d like to help, and he’s out of the chair in an instant. The book in his lap falls carelessly to the floor, revealing the hard outline of his cock in his jeans and the little wet spot forming near the tip. He climbs onto the bed and settles himself over your thighs. He leans forward and covers your hands with his, squeezing your tits gently and muffling your soft moan when he captures your lips in a desperate kiss.

DIAVOLO & BARBATOS

Your brunch date with Diavolo and Barbatos takes an unexpected turn when you show up with swollen breasts and leaking nipples. You threw on an oversized sweater to try and hide your unexpected condition so you wouldn’t have to cancel on them.

They escort you inside the castle to Diavolo’s private chambers where the breakfast table has been set on his private balcony, but both demons can sense right away that something’s not quite right. Diavolo will know if you lie, and you’re not a good liar at the best of times, so you tell them the truth. You shuffle your feet nervously and brace yourself for their reactions—surprise, worry, disgust?

Above all else, they’re concerned about your condition and whether you’re in any pain. You reassure them it’s mostly embarrassment and they seem relieved to hear it. The three of you loiter awkwardly in Diavolo's room and you realize that they're acting a little strange after you confess your secret to them. They lean in close and sniff curiously at your skin. Barbatos mutters something about not wanting you to get cold and he tugs at the hem of the damp sweater. Once the heavy shirt is removed, you only have a soaking-wet undershirt to cover your chest. The thin, flimsy material is nearly see-through and it clings to your breasts and your hardening nipples in the cool air. Two pairs of eyes roam your chest eagerly, and Diavolo pulls you into his arms—he shrugs off your feeble concerns about his clothes getting dirty too.

(While the young prince distracts you, Barbatos turns away and brings the discarded sweater to his nose. He breathes in your natural scent laced with milk and licks experimentally against the wet cotton. It has a surprisingly warm, semi-sweet taste. He draws a bit more of the fabric between his lips and sucks lightly, but the increasingly persistent throbbing between his legs snaps him out of his daze.)

Barbatos sets everything aside to be washed and by the time he returns to your side, Diavolo reaches for the hem of your undershirt next. The heat in their eyes is unmistakable and you suddenly realize what they mean when they offer to help you. Their dark eyes promise all sorts of sin to distract you from your unfortunate predicament, but like always, they wait patiently for your permission. As soon as you've nodded your consent, Diavolo takes off your undershirt while Barbatos reaches for your waistband. Gentle hands remove the last of your clothing, and they lead you to the bed.

They press against you, Diavolo in front of you and Barbatos at your back, and you're engulfed by the heat of their bodies. They take turns peppering your lips and your bare skin in a flurry of hot, sloppy kisses. Greedy hands roam across your body as they hastily rid themselves of their own clothing.

Barbatos manages to take his clothes off first, and his naked body is hot and firm against your back. He wraps an arm around your waist and buries his nose against your neck. He tilts your head towards his and kisses you while his slick tail strokes between your legs and teases at your entrance. He holds you steady in his arms despite the tremor in your legs as the precise pace of his tail flicking in and out of you teases you with pleasure. Your skin grows slippery from his tail’s secretion, and once he's satisfied he won't hurt you, he replaces his tail with his fingers next. Two fingers slip inside easily and he scissors them wide to stretch you open for his cock. His name falls from your lips in jerky little whimpers and groans, and you grind your ass against his cock when you're ready for more.

You’re so perfectly distracted that you nearly forgot about Diavolo. He watches silently with lustful eyes as Barbatos’ hand works between your thighs. He undresses himself slowly while he enjoys the sight of his butler’s dexterous fingers thrusting in and out of your greedy hole. He meets Barbatos' questioning look over your shoulder; when he nods, Barbatos sits on the edge of the bed and pulls you down into his lap.

Your body trembles with anticipation as Barbatos guides his cock inside you, and you groan his name when he bottoms out. He murmurs praise into your ear about how you take him so well and you’re so warm and soft for him. He holds your hips still when you try to squirm in his lap. He denies you the friction you crave, but he promises they'll both reward you if you listen and behave.

He wraps one arm around your tummy to keep you pressed against him while the other hand starts fondling one of your tits. His cock twitches inside you every time you moan or shudder, but he still won't let you move. His fingers play with your nipple, tracing the sensitive nub before surprising you with a sharp pinch between his finger and thumb. Milk drips onto your lap and rolls lazily down the inside of your thighs. Your face burns with embarrassment and desire, but his lips brush the shell of your ear. You're doing so well, he promises with a kiss. What a delightful treat you are, dearest.

Diavolo watches your sweet torment as he lazily fists his cock. The tendrils of milk and sweat stain your skin and he longs to trace them both with his tongue. These little games benefit from a bit of a tease, and he lets desire build within him like an inferno.

When he can't possibly wait anymore to touch you, he finally kneels between your legs. His large hands push your thighs apart so he can pepper your ticklish thighs with soft kisses. Your breasts bounce lightly each time his feather-light lips brush over a sensitive patch of skin. Barbatos continues pinching your nipples and his young master waits patiently for it to roll down your thighs. He laps up your milk greedily between nips of teeth. Your musky arousal and your sweet milk on his tongue makes him ravenous for you.

Diavolo buries his head between your legs and sucks at your arousal earnestly, and Barbatos finally starts to move. He grinds his hips lazily against yours so his cock fills you deeply with each little thrust of his hips. He fondles both of your tits with both his hands as Diavolo’s hands curl around your hips. Each roll of your hips draws Barbatos deeper inside you while Diavolo ravishes you with his tongue, desperate for every drop of milk and cum your body can give him.

SIMEON

Simeon is startled from his book when an angry knock pounds on the front door of Purgatory Hall. He’s not sure what Solomon did to you, but judging by the frustrated purse of your lips and the angry glint in your eyes, it must be serious. The sorcerer is nowhere to be found, but Simeon leads you to his room—he hopes you’ll be more comfortable and willing to talk to him about what’s bothering you in private.

He’s shocked by the sight of your large chest when you take off your jacket with a frustrated grumble. There are some dried stains around your hardening nipples and you point at yourself derisively. You complain about the mess you woke up to and how most of your tops don’t even fit anymore. You compare yourself to a leaky faucet and he stops your self-deprecating rant with a gentle hand on your shoulder. He’s not sure how he can help but he desperately wants to. Your eyes look so sad and it’s gut-wrenching to see you like this.

You look away from him in embarrassment, but he reassures you that he wants to help. He strokes your cheek gently with the back of his fingers and promises he’ll do whatever you ask of him. His thumb wipes away a stray tear that slips from the corner of your eye, and you melt into his chest when he pulls you into a gentle hug.

“I could use a distraction,” you murmur quietly into his shirt with a sniffle.

A distraction?

If it’s a distraction you need, then that's what he'll do for you.

He helps you take off your clothes first. Your top is already a lost cause, and there’s small drip stains on your pants now too. He drops them into a messy pile on the floor. He quickly takes off his own shirt and pants next while you scoot back on his bed until you’re resting comfortably against the pillows.

It’s not often he gets to enjoy you like this: naked and trembling with anticipation against his sheets, gazing at him with dark eyes blown-black with lust. He drinks in the sight of your chest and swallows thickly when your breasts bounce slightly when the mattress dips from his weight.

He runs his hands slowly up your legs and pushes them apart gently. He lays between your thighs and press sweet, soft kisses against your warm skin. He teases you with little nips of teeth and leaves behind little marks that you can remember him by tomorrow. He glances at you curiously when one of your hands brushes away the curtain of hair over his eyes. He stares hungrily at the tantalizing sight of your hand cupping one of your swollen tits; you pinch your nipple playfully when you’re sure he’s watching.

You little tease.

He licks a thick stripe up the inside of your thigh before he buries his face against your sex. Your surprised yelp trails off into a moan, and he hisses when your free hand tangles roughly in his hair. You roll your hips against his face while the fingers clenched in his hair keep his mouth exactly where you want him.

He’s messy when he goes down on you, teasing you with kitten licks between greedy sucks between his lips. Your skin grows slick with your own musky arousal and his spit. When he hums at your taste, you can almost feel it vibrating deep in your bones. Your body quakes delightfully as he coaxes you towards your release, and your shaky voice pleads for more.

He regrets not bringing a bottle of lube with him earlier; you're nearly begging for him to fuck you. He doesn’t want to get up even for a moment, so he settles for the next best thing: he traces your entrance with his tongue instead. One hand holds your hip down on the bed while the other snakes up your body and closes over your heavy tit. He squeezes the soft flesh as he slips his tongue inside you; his fingers dig into your hip when your body clenches around him. You rock your hips to encourage him to give you more, to touch you deeper inside, and he happily obliges.

He might not be fucking you with his cock, but it still doesn’t take long for you to fall apart from his ministrations. His name is a desperate chant that falls from your lips, punctuated by curses and groans and breathy whimpers. Your thighs tremble from your impending release, and his fingers end up covered with milk as he continues playing with your breasts. He ruts against the mattress to provide his cock some relief as you finally fall to pieces against his mouth. He coaxes the last remnants of pleasure from you, lapping greedily at your cum and flicking his tongue against your hole until you’re too sensitive and nearly begging for him to stop.

When you’re satisfied and exhausted, he slides up the bed and braces himself over you. Your chest heaves from exertion and your breasts are soft against his when he lowers his chest to yours. His cock hangs heavy between you and it smears precum where it rests on your belly. He lowers his head and kisses across your chest as he starts grinding his cock against you. Your hands card through his hair as you hold him against your chest. He latches onto one of your nipples and moans as a fresh burst of creamy fluid spills across his tongue.

KARASU

Karasu will gladly do anything you ask, or give you anything you want if it’s in his power to give.

He comes to the House of Lamentation as soon as you call, your voice thick with tears, and he takes a personal day off work to see you. He tries to keep the shock and confusion (and interest) from his expression when he arrives and discovers your temporary ailment. He hugs you and kisses your cheeks and leads you to your ensuite bathroom where he runs a warm shower for you. He changes your damp, milk-stained sheets while you wash. He has a clean, dry set of pajamas waiting for you when you step out in your bathrobe.

He does all these things, and he offers to do anything else you need, because he loves you no matter what. It surprises him when you ask him to fuck you, and for the first time since he arrived that morning, he hesitates. It’s not that he doesn’t want to, because he does. He’s filled to the brim with desire for you, a never ending itch just below the surface of his skin that only finds relief when he’s inside you.

Karasu expected that you might like a relaxing day in front of the TV. He could help you stay clean and dry while your…larger chest…continues leaking. He thought about ordering your favourite takeout for lunch, and maybe going for a walk in the garden if you’re up to it later.

The thought of spending the day in bed with you never crossed his mind. The idea is awfully tempting, but above all else, he’s concerned about hurting you somehow. It's not a risk he's willing to take, but you reassure him it'll be fine as you unfasten your robe and let it drop carelessly at your feet. He stares at your naked body and realizes that he’s powerless to deny you; if you want him so badly, you can have him.

One thing you can't lie about is your chest; your breasts are heavy and swollen, and he knows they can’t be comfortable. You’re surprisingly shy about letting him touch them, so he doesn’t ask. However, you seem to have a clever idea when you stack your pillows and cover them with a towel. You kneel on the bed and lay with your chest resting comfortably on the pillows to support your breasts while the towel catches any fluid that leaks out. The extra cushioning helps relieve some of the strain on your shoulders.

Karasu can’t deny that you make an extremely desirable sight like this: your back curves beautifully in this position, and your ass is raised high in the air when you lean forward. He strips quickly and the mattress dips slightly under him when he kneels onto the bed. He shuffles into position behind you and runs his hands up and down your lower back before smoothing over the generous swell of your hips and ass.

He prefers to see your face when he fucks you, but you wiggle your hips impatiently and he admits that this position is tantalizing in its own way. If you’d rather feel pleasure than discomfort, why would he deny you when your body begs him so beautifully?

He slicks his fingers with lube and rubs them together for a moment to warm them. You gasp softly when his hand explores between your legs and brushes teasingly against your entrance. He rubs his fingers across the sensitive opening, and each little noise you make shoots straight through him to his cock; he’s already hard and dripping for you.

He ignores the ache of his own desire as he slips one finger inside you. Your body is so inviting, so soft and pliable under his touch. You might’ve begged for him before, but he thinks he might be even more desperate than you are now. He adds another finger, and a third quickly after that. He stretches you wide and savors the whimpered pleas falling endlessly from your lips when you beg him to fuck you already.

He positions himself behind you and rubs his cock between your thighs so the messy slick and lube coats his shaft. He holds you steady with one hand curled around your hip while the other guides his cock tip to your entrance. He slips inside with a groan and pushes in until he’s fully sheathed inside you with one deep stroke.

Sweat beads along his brow and rolls down his temples. He gives you a moment to adjust as your greedy little hole wraps snuggly around his cock. There’s nothing sweeter than the hot, tight embrace of your body clenching desperately around him. When you push back slightly with your hips to grind against him, he finally starts to move. He’s slow and steady so the force of his thrusts don’t put too much weight on your chest.

He pauses when you whimper quietly, but before he can ask what’s wrong, he sniffs the milky scent of your discharge in the air.

“Don’t—don’t stop,” you plead breathlessly, hands fisting the sheets.

He snaps his hips harder than before—there’s something about the whiny tremor in your voice that makes lust surge through his veins. “Making a mess already, dear one?”

You moan his name and roll your hips, trying so desperately to fuck yourself on his cock. He rarely talks dirty like this, and you like it. You nod eagerly with a quiet, uh huh. You roll your hips and urge him to move harder, and deeper and faster, and he obeys. He meets your rhythm, panting heavily as he pounds into you. A stream of curses and moans and grunts fall from his lips while your own pleased noises mix with his own.

The bed frame groans and creaks beneath you, but he can still hear the obscene squelch of his cock dragging against your walls as he thrusts inside you. His own release builds inside him as his pace becomes rougher and faster; he won’t last very long but he'll be damned if he comes before you do. He leans against your back and reaches between your legs so he can stroke you with his wet, sticky fingers. “Come for me, you beautiful thing, that’s it—I want to feel you come on my cock, you‘re so perfect for me, just a little bit more—”

Your orgasm crashes over you as he coos filthy praise against your ear. He strokes you through it until your sinful vice tightens around his cock and he comes too. He pumps into you lazily as thick ropes of cum make his thrusts wet and sloppy. His hips finally stutter to a halt when he’s too sensitive to keep going. His softening cock slips from your body and he collapses beside you with a drawn-out groan.

You rest flat on your tummy while you catch your breath, but there’s a pleased smile curling your lips when you turn your head to look at him. “That helped,” you admit cheekily, and you both break into bashful laughter. “I like it when you’re a little rough,” you admit as you reach for his hand.

He laces his fingers with yours and nuzzles against your shoulder. “Let me order something for us to eat,” he suggests. “After that, maybe we can experiment with other ways to help you feel better.”

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leviathans-watching · 2 years ago

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can I request a gn mc asking the brothers (and maybe dateables too if you want) to play with their wings/tail? I’ve always had the urge to just mess with Mammons wings and Levi’s tail especially

it’s okay if you don’t want to do it tho! Thank you :) 💙

touching the brothers' tails/horns/etc.

includes: the brothers x/& gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

wc: .7k | rated t | m.list | pt 2

a/n: wow i almost want to explore lucifer's a lot further </3 anyway i hope you enjoy and ty for requesting! my inbox is open to chat, leave feedback, or req so come stop by!!

reblogs are greatly appreciated!

➳ lucifer stiffens as he feels your hands gently running through the feathers of his wings. you slow, but when he reminds silent, pick up the action again, every movement intentional and soft. it feels so good. lucifer cannot remember the last time someone other than himself had touched his wings. after he became a devil, they were something he was ashamed of for a long time and his brothers quickly learned they were no longer to touch them, and by the time he’d be okay with it, it was too late. but your touch feels like heaven, and lucifer’s afraid to look at your face out of fear of revulsion, he can’t find himself to pull away either.

➳ mammon yelps when he feels a touch on his wings, turning quickly. you yank your hand back, apologetic. “you’re good to touch them,” he says, “i was just surprised.” taking his invitation, you stroke the bones, following them from the bottom up, moving to the skin on his back. he shivers as you trace your way across his veins, feeling oddly exposed. but it also feels kind of nice, like you’re scratching an itch he hadn’t realized he had.

➳ levi flushes when his tail lashes, bumping against your leg. “sorry, it has a mind of its own,” he says, and you laugh. without asking, you run a hand down the scales, scratching your fingernails carefully over the smooth surface. “that feels good,” levi whispers, and you smile, continuing to run your hand up and down and up and down. honestly, the touch is more soothing that he’d have thought, and before he knows it, he’s half asleep, leaning against your side.

➳ satan wakes up with his head in your lap. he must have fallen asleep reading. as he gets his thoughts in order, he realizes he’s in his demon form, and you’re gently scratching his head, running your hands across his horns in a slow, repetitive motion. nobody’s ever touched his horns like that before. with his brothers, they were merely a place to grab onto when they scuffled, and he himself had never paid much attention to them, simply accepting them as part of his appearance, but your touch is making him reevaluate everything. content to stay where and as he is, he lets his eyes slip shut once more but doesn't sleep, simply reveling in your touch.

➳ asmo giggles as he feels you stroke his wing. “that tickles!” you chuckle, smearing lotion across the course skin, making sure to get every wrinkle and fold. asmo’d never been able to reach all of his wings himself, and only was able to convince one of his brothers to help once in a blue moon, so hanging out around to help him groom and moisturize was truly amazing. especially since you were so gentle and careful, your attention to detail showing in every movement. your hands felt nothing like his brothers’, and for that, asmo was immensely grateful.

➳ beel shivers as your fingers follow the striped birthmarks that go down his neck and collarbone. your fingers are slightly cold, especially considering he runs warm, and the touch feels almost ghostly with how light your touch is. it’s amazing, really, as you make every part of him feel special, including the parts he'd never cared about before, like his markings. your hands dips lower for a brief moment, to his chest, and he inhales slightly, but it doesn’t linger, moving back up before he knows it. his heart pounds behind his ribs and he’s sure that if your fingers were to explore the area over it, you’d be able to tell.

➳ belphie flinches as you touch his tail. “i know it looks soft but there are thorns in there,” he says, striving for casualness. “so don’t complain if you get pricked.” your hands slow down slightly, but you don’t pull away, combing out the hair at the end of it. it’s frightfully tangled but you’re patient and belphie knows that when you finish it will be fully untangled and neat. your administrations feel kind of nice, actually, but he wouldn’t dare admit it. (something in him tells him you know that already anyway, so what’s the point?)

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once-in-a-blood-moon · 6 months ago

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It's All About Intention

Solomon x GN! reader

Summary: You ask Solomon's opinion on what color you should paint your nails, and learn something new along the way.

AN: This is dedicated to @nnnneeev for being such sweet friend to me. Love you!! 💜 Anyways, hope everyone enjoys! Mwah!

Warnings: None

The soft pads of socked feet march through Cocytus Hall in search of something – or someone. The ever perceptive sorcerer who lounges in the common room grins to himself, lazily licking the tip of his finger to help turn the page of the tome he’s reading. He knows you too well, and by the sound of your footsteps, you’ve got something on your mind.

“Hey, Solomon,” you say as you pass through the threshold, “I need your opinion on something.”

Just as he thought.

He marks his page before closing the book, focusing his attention on you as approach with a little box in your hands. He recognizes it as he’s seen that box in your room, yet the contents within are eluding him.

“I’d be happy to assist you in any way I can,” he says with a genuine smile. “What’s on your mind, my dear?”

You sit next to him on the couch with the box in your lap. With a soft sigh, you begin to explain your dilemma. “I can’t decide on what color to paint my nails...”

You peel the flap of the box back, opening it, as Solomon leans over and peeks inside to see many different bottles of nail polish in the ultimate ROYGBIV categorization. A soft whistle blows past his lips; he’s impressed by how pleasing it is to look at. He knew you painted your nails often, but it dawns on him just how many bottles you own. You’re like him with books, except for you, it’s nail polish.

“I’ve never realized you had quite the collection. I think you might give Asmo a run for his money.” he says with a chuckle.

Your eyebrows raise, obviously not believing that statement. With a quick shake of your head and a chuckle, you reply. “Oh, no. I don’t think anyone could beat him with his many shelves of high-end nail polish.”

Solomon hums. “You’re right,” he strokes his chin in thought, “you’re about two hundred bottles off.”

That earns him a light smack on the arm as you both laugh.

“Shut up.”

“If I shut up then I can’t give you my opinion, sweet apprentice of mine.” He’s got that shit-eating grin again, never missing an opportunity to tease you. It’s his favorite past-time.

You huff out in faux annoyance, even going so far as to roll your eyes. You’re lucky he finds you so cute when you do that, he thinks. Otherwise, he might’ve been offended.

“Fine, fine. Just tell me what you think.” You scoot the box further down, now resting it on your knee so he’s drawn to its focus once more.

Solomon’s eyes flick over each color with intensity. He’s really giving this some thought. “Well, is there anything you want to come out of this?”

Silence settles between you, and for a second he thinks you didn’t hear him. That is, until he glances up to see you with the most dumbfounded expression as you stare right back at him.

“Uh, yeah? My nails to be painted?”

It seems he wasn’t clear with his wording. Though he does get a hearty laugh out of your response. “No, no. That’s not what I meant. I mean...do you have something you want to manifest?”

Your expression stays the same, the only change is a few hard and confused blinks. “What does this have to do with painting my nails?”

“Well, everything really. Painting your nails using a certain color can attract that which you seek. I’ve taught you that using different colored candles in spells can aid in what you bring in, right? So, the same thing applies here.”

Solomon can see the wheels turning in your head now. He thinks this is a good lesson to be taught – that magic requires innovation and that magic is in everything.

“Really?” you ask.

“Really. So, if you wanted to strengthen your intuition, you might use a shade of blue. If you wanted to boost your creativity, you could use yellow,” he pauses before a grin curls on his lips again, “and you could use pink to attract love.” His eyebrows wiggle in a suggestive way, making you laugh a little.

“Okay, okay. I think I get it. Though I didn’t realize that I could incorporate magic into painting my nails.” He watches you look over your precious box with a certain glint in your eyes. He loves that look, that giddy sparkle when you learn something new. You’re too precious for your own good.

“My adorable apprentice, magic is in everything. All you have to do is show up with intention.”

“Intention,” you nod as you remember him saying that during one of your first lessons. “It’s all about intention, yes, I remember.”

Solomon chuckles. “Good.” He digs into the box, pulling out a little bottle filled with a deep indigo. “How about painting them indigo...to remind yourself you are capable of anything you put your mind to, especially within the realm of magic. You are more than capable of becoming a wonderful sorcerer someday.”

To your surprise, he leans over and places a soft kiss on your cheek before adding, “I am so proud of you.”

His eyes soften as he watches your cheeks heat up with one word coming to mind; precious.

“So, is there any chance I could get you to paint my nails while you’re at it?”

You clear your throat as you try to choke the fluster down. “Sure, but it’ll cost you.” you grin as you tease him back.

“You’ve been spending way too much time with Mammon, he’s rubbing off on you in the worst way.” Solomon rolls his eyes, chuckling again.

“I’m kidding!” you snicker. “Anyways, what color were you thinking for yourself?”

He pretends to think as he eyes a certain color in the box. “Hm, how about pink? I have something I want more of…” he wiggles his brows again, smirking widely, “your love.”

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me fluff #obey me solomon #obey me solomon x reader #jo writes

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acronym49 · 13 days ago

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Obey Me- Dragon mc Drabble

Scroll to the end for a little doodle lol.

Word count: 2,134

Gn mc, could be seen as romantic or platonic

Characters: All seven bros!

Warnings: none

Being a large fluffy creature has it's benefits. Snow is plain fun and not horribly cold, you're soft to the touch, and you look cool as hell.

Being a large fluffy creature also has it's downsides.

You were coiled at the base of the couch, scrolling Devilgram with the talons on your wings, paws tucked under your form as you caught up on the latests trends

.... that was a lie, you were looking up unethical curses. Come on, it was interesting!

You halted, though, as a weight not-so-subtly plopped against your side.

"...Belphie, the couch is empty." You muttered, not finding the heart to be annoyed at him. He looked at you with a sly grin, before promptly taking one of your wings to tuck over himself like a blanket.

"Yup. I know," He hummed, getting cozy.

"I'm taking the other couch."

"Nooooo." You pouted. He laughed.

"Yeeeees. It's too late now, anyways. I'm not moving. Accept your fate."

It was admittedly a nice feeling having someone curled up into your side like that as he nestled snugly into your fur. He felt somewhat like a weighted stuffed animal or a pillow, aside from the rise and fall of his breathing.

"Oh, there you are." The voice of Beel came from somewhere behind you. You craned your neck as he came over.

"Free me."

He shook his head with the slightest smile. "Nah. You two look cozy." He took a few chips from the bag he was holding, before ultimately deciding to join in.

Beel settled next to his twin, closer to your front paws as he leaned against your upper shoulder. He made a contented noise before commencing with his snacking, but not before offering you a bbq chip as payment (which you happily accepted).

It was comfortable for all of another minute before you heard another voice approach.

"Where did they- oh!"

Asmodeus looked over the couch to be surprised by your little pile of three, before he quickly squeaked.

"Aww, look at you~! All cuddled up, that is so CUTE!" He gushed. He pulled out his D.D.D, pointing it at you for an impromptu photoshoot.

"Asmo, wait-!" You laughed, but it wasn't working. He circled you a few times to get the right angles and framing, making comments about the three of you, and generally causing a flustered dragon.

"You know what? I should get in on this, too! It'd be such a waste if I didn't~" He cooed once his photographer instinct was satiated.

"Go for the tail." Belphie offered, sounding barely awake in the way he mumbled the words.

Asmo hummed, before shooting you a wink.

"Actually, I think I'd prefer the be a bit more up-close-and-personal..."

"OH NO YA DON'T!"

Mammon had come in to hear what the mild commotion was about, only to see his brothers snuggled up to HIS dragon.

"OFF! All of ya!" He barked, stomping over much to the amusement of the others.

"Hey Mams." You said with a grin, upside-down as you flexed your head to meet his gaze. He frowned with a pout.

"What do ya think you're doin', letting these guys snuggle up to ya, huh?! Don't forget, you're MY dragon!"

"Ugh, be QUIET." Belphie grumbled, shooting the man a glare.

A weight draped itself across your back as Asmo suddenly chose his spot, splaying himself over you comfortably. It earned a loud 'HEY' as he shot his brother a gloating look, not caught by you.

You looked at Beel, who simply shrugged.

"You know, if you spent less time complaining..." Asmo drawled, a smile in his voice.

"Then maybe YOU'D be the one all cozied up to them, hmm?"

Mammon growled, hopping over the couch as he tried to push his brother off his spot.

"Guys..."

"OFF! Go snuggle up with Solomon, or someone, I don't care!"

An uncomfortable squabble broke out as the two fought for the throne seat. Beel had to break it up once they got too rowdy and caused you to wince. He pulled them apart, earning a grateful look from yourself, and settled back down. Asmo ended up closer to your tail, while Mammon had managed to claim your back for his own.

There were sparkles in his voice as he laughed triumphantly, adjusting his shades as he got comfortable.

"HA! See, that's what ya get for messing with The Great Mammon!"

Asmo rolled his eyes, huffing as he ran a hand over the soft fur of your tail. You let the tip of it come over to gently coil around his waist, appeasing the demon as he giggled at your action.

"Oh, please," Asmo hummed with an annoyed glance to Mammon.

"You're not the great ANYTHING. That spot dosen't look comfortable, anyways."

He had a point about that. Asides from the padding of your wing muscles, it was a pretty rigid seat. Mams wasn't about to admit that, though. Not when he had the throne.

"Wha-? You say that to my face!" He challenged, defending his self-appointed title.

"Guys." Beel chimed in, sounding annoyed. "Be quiet. You're hurting my head."

Belphie mumbled in unconscious agreement.

The two arguing glared at eachother, debating on whether or not to listen. You let out a low hiss. That seemed to finally break the tension.

Mammon leaned back, resting his head against the base of your neck with his arms crossed. He still felt a little triumphant.

Asmo continued using your tail as a shawl, curling into your flank. He brought out his D.D.D to begin scrolling, as you had been before The Pile™️.

...

....?

...You felt your ears prick as faint yet fast-approaching steps came into hearing.

You looked towards the sound, confused, prompting a questioning noise from the demon on your shoulders. A few seconds later, Satan came into the room, looking around rapidly as if searching for something.

Beel turned to look at him, lowering his second chip bag, brows furrowed. "Satan? Is something wrong? Why were you running?"

He took a moment to catch his breath, still searching the room.

"I- is there a cat in here? I swear I heard one." He panted.... how good was this man's hearing???

"What? There aint' no cat here. What are you talking about?" Mammon questioned, looking him up and down with a squint.

"I was hissing at them to be quiet."

You said, connecting the dots. Satan looked at you, before letting out a sigh.

"Oh." Was all he said. You saw the faint blush on his face nonetheless.

You glanced down to the others, all situated somewhere along your form, and then back to him.

You accepted your fate, offering an invitation.

"Join the pile?" You suggested, tilting your head cutely.

"It's warm."

"And soooooft." Belphie mumbled from under your wing. Satan thought for a moment, before shaking his head with a chuckle.

"Well, if there's no cat here... fine, I suppose. Make some room."

He came over to the other side of the couch, scanning to see where he'd fit best. There was a book tucked under his arm, a bookmark hastily tucked into the pages. He must've been in the library just before he heard you.

Satan settled himself against your wing, leaning into the feathers. A small, rare smile graced his features, making you smile in turn.

You looked away before shifting just a little, bunching your neck to take on more of a resting position. T'was a prime nap opportunity.

"Hm, now there's a whole five of us here..." Asmo mused to himself a minute later, not looking up from his phone.

"I wonder if Levi and Lucifer are going to join in? Maybe I should text them."

"Don't." Satan said with a frown, clearly opposed to the thought of his older brother coming to ruin the fun.

"But it'd be so cute! Everyone joined together for a cuddle pile~"

Belphie murmured his protest.

"Ugh, gag me."

It was a peaceful few minutes, but, not unexpectedly, you heard someone's voice calling your name after a while.

You beeped in response before Levi came in the room, looking dejected.

"What’s up?" You hummed, frowning at his expression. He grumbled.

"I just spent all of my tickets on this new gacha event... I was saving them up forever..." he explained. You nodded at him to continue.

"- And I didn't even get the limited edition character! The odds were in my favor, how could I NOT get her?!"

He hopped over the couch, flopping down onto it face-first.

"Boooo, who cares." Mammon said unsympathetically. You turned your head to give his hair a nip of annoyance, shutting him up.

You brought up your free wing to pat Levi gently on the head. He mumbled something, but didn't pull away.

"Wait, was that from that MMORPG you had us play a few months ago?" Satan asked, looking thoughful. Leviathan nodded.

"I still have my account." Beel piped up. Asmo nodded as well. "Me too!"

Satan confirmed his account, as well as yourself. Belphie was dead to the conversation.

"If I'm not mistaken, the event gives free tickets at the beginning. We should still have ours available,"

Satan continued. Levi looked up from the couch with renewed hope.

"-if we all enter the gacha, one of us may win. We could trade the character to you."

Leviathan blinked, processing the info as you and the othes all agreed, willing to help him out.

He was silent for the moment, before letting out a high pitched noise you didn't know was possible for him to even make.

"EeeeeEEEEAAAAA-! YES! THANK YOUUU! YOU'RETHEBESTBROTHERSEVER-" He got up with sudden vigor to wrap his arms around Satan, who suddenly looked very uncomfortable. After a minute or two of boincing around, Levi seemed to realize what he was doing, letting go with a stammer and a red face. You had to force down a chuckle, endeared, as you didn't want to embarass him more.

"I-I um... t-thank you. That means a lot." Levi said, a bit more calmly. He was still clearly happy, though.

You chuffed to catch his attention, taking the moment to offer him a place under your other wing, raising it to create a small fort between you and the couch.

He looked at the offer for a moment, loading, before he quickly nodded and rushed over to hide himself. Mammon rolled his eyes as Levi squiggled in, joining the pile.

You now had six demons on you.

Belphegor and Levi under either wing.

Beel at your shoulder.

Satan against your outer wing.

Asmo coiled in your tail.

And Mammon in the throne seat upon your back.

You didn't even know if anyone else COULD fit. You felt spiritually connected with a beanbag chair. But there was one missing.

"Lu- " you started, but a low, deep voice cut you off.

"So this is where you all have been."

He stood in that far doorway, looking at your makeshift couch, placed right in front of the real one. His expression seemed a mixture of exasperation and amusement.

You blinked.

"We've been waiting for youuuuu~" You crooned in a mock-creepy voice. Although a few voices near your sides disagreed.

Lucifer made a noise somewhere between a huff and a chuckle, shaking his head.

He walked over, staring down your current amalgamation. He crouched down once he go to you, meeting at your eye-level. You slow blinked at him, earnestly hoping not to be in trouble.

Lucifer took your head in his hands, petting your chin and between your ears (like he did with Cerberus, you note), earning a happy purr.

Satan glowered at him, along with the orange and sunset eyes each beneath your wings, but he paid no mind.

"You seem comfortable. There's room for one more, I presume?" He asked, that signature and sly look on his face.

"No there ain't!" Mammon responded at once, but he was all but unheard as Lucifer took his place at your front, leaning his head against your throat. He could probably feel the pulse in your neck, normally an off-limits spot

.... but you made exceptions.

The demon sighed, quietly enough to only be heard by you. Even though he kept his somehow perfect posture, you could feel his muscles relax a little.

"...I suppose that makes all of us then, hmm?"

"Looks like it."

"LOL, I think so."

"Mhm."

"Munch."

"Can Lucifer leave?"

...

"Ooo, I should take pictures of all of us~!"

*click*

*click, click*

"AAA, STAHP!"

___

You chuckled quietly to yourself. It was moments like these that felt nice. Everyone was here. There was no danger or looming responsibilities.Just you and your boys

....Even if it was guaranteed you wouldn't be leaving for a good long while.

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badperson-8 · 10 months ago

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Butting In (Part 1) Lucifer, Mammon, Levi

Male/AMAB MC finds an intriguing sex toy – a magical fleshlight, which is automatically connected to the body of whoever haunts their sexual fantasies. How will each brother react if MC succumbs to the temptation and uses the device?

amabMC x Lucifer, amabMC x Mammon, amabMC x Levi

3.5k words | NSFW | Porn without plot | gn!pronouns MC | AO3 link

Content Warnings: Dub-con | Anal Sex

Part 2 (Satan, Asmo) Part 3 (Beel, Belphie) Part 4 (Diavolo)

Lucifer

Lucifer sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut. He’s been sent to the House of Lords on behalf of Lord Diavolo for a brief check of their quarterly financial report. But what should’ve taken him at most two hours, stretched into several-hours torture, due to the incompetence of these noble fools. The accounting department did their best to analyze and categorize all the expenses, but Lords were so utterly incapable of providing any reasonable data in time that the finished report turned out to be an incoherent mess.

So now Lucifer is stuck in a place full of insufferable snobs, damned to do their job instead of them. At least the most excruciating part is over: he had to personally collect all the additional papers from each Lord, and now he only needs to compare the numbers. The demon has already sent all the accountants away; if they didn’t succeed the first time, it’s highly unlikely that they’ll be of any use. Lucifer prefers to work alone anyway.

The only two things that motivate him right now are a huge cup of the strongest coffee ever known to demons and potential revenge. If Lucifer manages to find any traces of financial machinations, Lord Diavolo will take this matter into his own hands. And when he’s on the case, it’s useless to hide behind the high status of a noble. The Future King deals with problems swiftly and mercilessly.

Lucifer smirks, takes a sip of coffee, and focuses on the documents in his hands. The demon occupied the office of one of the Lords after he unceremoniously kicked out the owner. The room has too many golden decorations for Lucifer’s liking, but at least the chair is comfortable enough. The soft rustle of papers and the rhythmical ticking of the clock help him concentrate and ignore intrusive thoughts about one particular human who waits for him at home… Perhaps there are actually three things that motivate Lucifer right now, but his pride will never let him admit it.

A sudden shiver runs along Lucifer’s body, making him twitch and almost spill all the coffee on the documents. The demon immediately lets go of the cup and straightens up, trying to figure out what the hell happened. But Lucifer doesn’t spot anything unusual, only the same ticking of the clock breaks the silence of an empty room.

The second shiver strikes him just as suddenly. This time it’s stronger, it pierces his mind and makes him grab the edge of the table, looking for support. Lucifer feels the ghost touches on his body, which concentrate on his backside. He unconsciously presses his hips against the seat in an attempt to hide his delicate parts from the unknown intruder. But to no avail. The unstoppable force concentrates on his most vulnerable part of the body, pressing inside and massaging the tensed walls of his entrance.

Lucifer bites his lower lip, trying to contain all the embarrassing noises deep within; a thin stream of blood runs down his chin and lands on one of the documents, staining it and coloring the white pages red. His trembling hand wipes off tiny drops of sweat from his forehead.

The Avatar of Pride is not capable of panicking, as simple as that. He has everything under control, no matter what happens. But now, for the first time in eternity, Lucifer doesn’t know what to do. He’s lost and confused; the burning desire to twist the neck of whoever does this to him and the baffling temptation to submit to these new sensations are tearing him apart.

Lucifer chooses the first option, concentrating his magic on the faint traces of the curse that makes him lose control over his body. The demon frowns as he mentally untangles the magical energies and reaches the source of the disturbance.

It’s MC, it’s their life force, their magical energy. Lucifer senses the power of some kind of artifact nearby, but its magic doesn’t look dangerous. The demon sighs, letting his tensed muscles finally relax. He feels an all-consuming relief at the thought of MC being the one who’s behind this. It’s them, they are responsible for all this nonsense. Of course, who else would it be? He should’ve figured it out sooner.

A gentle pressure on his insides continues, it seems MC doesn’t use the artifact to its full potential yet, preferring to check the toy with their fingers. Lucifer leans back in his chair and spreads his long legs apart. He could fly all the way to the House of Lamentation, confiscate this suspiciously powerful artifact, and lecture them for several hours straight, but…

Lucifer’s line of thought is interrupted by a sudden sensation of some liquid inside him. The demon frowns harder as he feels his cheeks and ears burn with humiliation. He closes his eyes, not to see how his hand unzips his pants and lets out his neglected boner. He doesn’t want to accept this. Lucifer shouldn’t be so agreeable towards the fact that he is being used as a sex toy. Even if it’s MC who does that. Stroking his dick to such foul sensations feels almost like a betrayal of his Pride. He should ignore his urges and…

The touch of a much bigger object feels shocking, no matter how much Lucifer anticipated dreaded the next stage of MC’s curiosity. It feels so much hotter than their fingers; it stretches him open inch by inch without meeting any resistance from Lucifer’s body. He breathes out sharply and tries to stop his hips from trembling. What a disgrace.

Lucifer clenches his fists, stubbornly ignoring his own growing excitement. But despite his efforts, his thighs spread even wider, chasing the feeling of the hot and pulsating flesh, magically conjured to bring Lucifer pleasure. The damn artifact is too good at recreating MC’s dick, too good at imitating all the deep thrusts. The demon can bear this for only so long. He snarls, grabs his dick, and starts stocking it with hungry desperation.

A quiet moan escapes Lucifer’s lips, but he immediately shuts his mouth with his hand, trying to save at least some dignity. The quicker the pushes become, the more difficult it is to contain all the moans. As Lucifer feels MC coming inside him, he bites his hand as hard as possible to muffle the final embarrassing sound. He growls as his fangs pierce his own skin, and his dick finally releases.

It takes him some time to regain his senses. The rhythmical ticking of the clock slowly returns Lucifer to reality. The demon silently stares at the pile of documents, now partially covered not only with his blood but also his sperm. He lifts his trembling hand and snaps his fingers to set the whole pile ablaze.

…They say that after one of the offices in the House of Lords burned down, together with important documents, the whole establishment had to work overtime to restore the lost data. It’s still unknown what exactly happened; some rumors mentioned a black-winged demon flying out of the office’s window in the direction of the House of Lamentation. But the strangest event that surpassed even the fire in one of the core institutions of the Devildom was no doubt the fact that, despite the sudden calamity and overdue financial report, Lucifer was walking around with a huge, bright smile on his face.

Mammon

Mammon is in deep shit. For real this time. He breathes heavily, peeking at five demons from around the corner. He sighs with relief as they march past his hiding spot and lovingly presses a giant bag full of money to his chest.

From Mammon’s perspective, this whole situation is exclusively the fault of these stupid morons. Who the hell keeps their money in cash nowadays?! These idiots were simply begging to rob them. How could Mammon say no? He will use the money better than they ever could anyway. MC was saying something about a new phone…

Mammon quietly swears and squats behind a dumpster, merging with the shadows. One of the demons returned and is now standing uncomfortably close to his hiding spot. Mammon needs to get out of here before they find him. He should make a run for it once the path is clear.

He squats lower, firmly hugging the bag in his hands. And he almost falls on his ass once he feels some kind of movement inside this very ass. Mammon shivers from disgust at the thought that he seems to be infected by damn tapeworms. He knew that a dinner at that shady restaurant was a bad idea. But seriously, how many are there? Or is it one thick-ass worm? It sure feels like it.

Despite his struggles, Mammon does his best to keep an eye on the demon next to him. They seem to have taken a break from the chase and are now simply smoking a cigarette.

Mammon can’t wait for too long, he needs to escape now while he has this chance. It seems he has to use just a little bit of violence. This demon is relaxed and completely unaware of their surroundings; it will be easy to jump them and knock them out within seconds. Gently, of course. Mammon quietly cackles as he slowly approaches the demon, still half-squatting and holding the bag in one hand.

But just as Mammon is ready to commit yet another crime, the fucking worm starts squirming again. The demon quietly moans, then immediately slams his mouth with his hand. The loud slap almost alerts the smoking demon, but they shrug it off.

“Must’ve been the wind.” They mumble, lifting their head and glaring at the stars. The sky is so beautiful today.

Meanwhile, just several feet away from the romantic demon, Mammon is having a mental breakdown. What the hell was that? No, Mammon didn’t just moan thanks to some stupid parasites, it’s a blatant lie. He tosses the bag on the ground and tries to turn his torso backwards to check his butt. It doesn’t help in the slightest since his jeans cover everything, so Mammon can only stare at his ass with disapproval.

His whole body suddenly shivers, making him drop to his knees and close his mouth with a hand once again. He feels something sticky and moist inside. At first, this strange sensation bothered only his asshole, but now it’s spreading deeper, all the way inside…

Mammon blinks away a single tear, trying not to panic. His medical condition is certainly dire, maybe he’s even dying. No, Great Mammon won’t die from some stupid worms, or whatever this is! He’ll find a cure; he just needs to escape first. MC will have to wait for a new phone a little longer, though; it seems that all the money will be spent on Mammon’s medical bills…

A sudden pressure on his asshole sends goosebumps all over Mammon’s body. He has to cover his mouth with his second hand, falling all the way to the ground. He’s now lying on his stomach, trying to regain his senses. Mammon feels something pushing inside him. His legs tremble, losing all their strength. His brain is trying to process everything that is happening but completely gives up once the ass gets attacked by powerful thrusts. Mammon’s erection is pressed uncomfortably to the ground through his jeans. He can’t even change the position, or at least take off his pants, since his body has fully betrayed him. The violent shivers shake Mammon’s body; he spends his last energy keeping his hands close to his mouth. Otherwise, the whole neighborhood will hear his whimpers.

Mammon’s mind is completely shut down, maybe as a way of precaution. At least the poor demon can’t reflect on the whole situation and be terrified of being either hopelessly ill or cursed. He can only focus on deep thrusts that hit his prostate over and over. The only thing that bothers him right now is his dick, still trapped in his jeans. He presses his hips closer to the ground to get at least some friction.

Mammon closes his eyes, breathing heavily into his hands. He’s so close, just a little more…

He’s suddenly being filled with something so hot that it heats up his insides; his ass unconsciously starts to greedily absorb this mysterious substance. Mammon trembles violently as he finally comes all over his pants. His last vocal moans break through the shield of his hands, shattering the surrounding silence.

As Mammon slowly returns to reality, he feels that his ass is now completely fine. He also feels that he is now surrounded by five angry demons who are ready to beat the shit out of him.

…MC is caressing Mammon’s soft hair as the demon complains to them about his rotten luck. He managed to escape in the end, which was a miracle, even with his abilities to run faster than anyone in the Devildom. The demons didn’t succeed in hurting him, but they took all their money back. Mammon doesn’t care that much about the money, though, being much more concerned about the possible disease. And MC just silently pats his hair, gathering their courage to tell Mammon about that one cool thing they found… And how it can actually be responsible for all of today’s misadventures.

Leviathan

Levi is bursting with excitement as he strolls around the comic-con. The amount of merch for all his favorite shows is simply unbelievable; and all the talented cosplayers make him wish he wasn’t such a shut-in otaku. To take a photo with any of them would be like a dream come true, but he’ll reach this major milestone some other time. He already has a huge reason to be proud of himself today.

Few reasons, actually. First of all, he came to this comic-con alone. All alone! Him! That’s right, he doesn’t need to ask Beel or Satan to come with him anymore. He doesn’t need any emotional support to come to this place, full of people… scary strangers… maybe they all think that he’s gross… or he smells bad…

Levi shakes his head, using his personal method of overcoming such anxiety attacks. All he needs to do is imagine MC, who holds him by the hand and smiles brightly at him. Yeah, that’s better. They always do this when he’s about to panic. Levi can’t give up, he promised that he’d have fun on his own.

The demon sighs, wishing MC was here with him. Lucifer forbade them to leave the house after they broke something when they were fooling around with Mammon. Levi frowns: this greedy scumbag always finds a way to mess with him, and now Levi has to spend the day all alone. Mammon ruined their date, and…

No-no-no-no, it wasn’t supposed to be a date, alright?! It WASN’T! Levi just offered MC to come with him, that’s all. He didn’t actually hope… That would be just silly, right?! Right…

Levi shakes his head once again, adjusting his stockings. Heels are not so bad, but these stockings are constantly trying to fall down. Maybe his legs are too skinny for this…

Hm? Oh yeah, that’s actually the second reason why Levi should be proud of himself. When he finally decided to invite MC on a da-… to hang out, he decided to consult with the professional, namely Asmo. He gave him some strange advices, like not eating too much during the day to avoid getting too dirty down “there”. Levi didn’t know where “there” was exactly, but he didn’t have the courage to ask. Other than that, Asmo had some great ideas: he assured Levi that MC would really appreciate it if he showed them his true passion. Specifically, if Levi put on his Ruri-chan costume, with stockings and all.

This idea got him really inspired; Levi spent several days preparing the costume for the show. So when the da-… the hangout was cancelled, he couldn’t just leave the costume at home. So he quickly made a giant sign “No photos, No touching, No interactions”, and came to the comic-con dressed in his pink dress.

Levi has never been prouder of himself. Despite everything, he paid homage to his favorite character. He wishes MC could see him right now…

“Ngh…” Levi winces, almost dropping his sign to the ground. His thighs firmly press together, slightly shaking from a sudden, unknown sensation between them. The demon blushes heavily and sprints to the bathroom, locking himself in one of the stalls.

He tosses the sign on the floor, lifts his skirt, and tries to inspect the area beneath. Levi did his best to make Ruri-chan’s costume as authentic as possible, which obviously included the right type of underwear. So now the demon carefully gropes his hips, covered with pink silk panties, in search of anything unusual.

His fingers dig into the silky fabric as he feels a strong tremble that concentrates in the area of his butt. He almost tears his underwear with his claws, trying to fight the unexpected weakness in his knees and not fall to the floor.

Levi gathers his strength, reaches the toilet lid, smashes it closed, and lands on it, breathing heavily. He would have never thought that it would be so hard to do such mundane actions, but he feels exhaustion after this little feat. He’s so confused by the riot of his own body that he doesn’t know what to think. Levi feels something slowly pushing inside, stretching him carefully. The only thing that prevents him from starting to seriously freak out is the fact that this unknown force immediately finds his weak spot.

The demon loudly screeches as something starts applying more pressure to his prostate. His dick already peeks out of the pink panties, leaving wet stains on the underwear and the skirt.

“Excuse me? Are you all right?” Someone knocks at the door of Levi’s stall, making him freeze. He squeezes his skirt in frustration as he shakily replies:

“Y-y-yes.”

That’s the best he can do, but luckily the stranger finds this reply passable and leaves him alone. Levi feels as his butt and asshole get covered in something sticky and warm, and he shivers in terror and anticipation. Wait, “anticipation”? No, Levi doesn’t enjoy this insane situation, not at all!

But self-reflection can wait. If the pushes renew, his voice will betray him again. And if this happens, the whole comic-con will hear him, and he certainly can’t let this happen! Levi needs to find something to block all the sounds ASAP. He looks around, trying to find something useful, but there aren’t many things in toilet stalls. Maybe something on him… Oh!

A genius idea graciously visits him. One of the main pieces of Ruri-chan’s clothing is, no doubt, her cute pink hat. Levi mentally apologizes to Ruri-chan for using her iconic hat in that way, takes it off, and shoves it in his mouth.

Just in time for a new stage of thrusts to start. This time they are much more intense. Levi feels how his fangs tear the soft fabric of his precious hat. But his idea mostly works: all his moans and whines are muffled, they are just quiet enough not to alert other people. He grabs his skirt, panties, his own thighs – anything other than his dick. Levi doesn’t want to do it like this. Not in the toilet stall, surrounded by strangers. Not in the Ruri-chan’s dress. Not without MC…

Levi slightly relaxes as his thoughts concentrate on MC. If he imagines that it’s them who inserts their dick inside him, he’ll manage to get through it. His brain successfully tricks itself, almost actually making him believe that it’s MC who is behind this cruel joke. If it’s them, it’s all right, Levi thinks, and allows himself to touch his neglected cock.

He strokes it desperately, focusing on his vivid fantasy of MC. His hole starts pulsating eagerly as he dives into his imagination. Whatever is on the other side must’ve felt how welcoming his hole became; the thrusts get faster and harder, almost making Levi fall from the toilet seat to the floor. He quickens the pace of his strokes to match the impatient pushes, squeezing the hat in his mouth with all his might.

He comes the moment he feels the hot release of an unknown entity inside him. Colorful circles flood his vision, leaving him completely strengthless. He tries to catch his breath, lazily thinking about the ruined costume, especially the pink panties he accidentally tore up. Now he needs to somehow clean up and hurry home, seeking refuge in MC’s arms. He’ll never go to any event without them again.

Part 2 (Satan, Asmo) Part 3 (Beel, Belphie) Part 4 (Diavolo)

P.S. The art doesn't belong to me, it's an official art from Shall We Date: Obey Me! (You, Me and Devil's Coast card)

#obey me #obey me smut #obey me fanfic #omswd fanfic #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #mc x lucifer #mc x mammon #mc x leviathan #male mc #amab mc #bottom lucifer #bottom mammon #bottom leviathan #obey me gn!mc #obey me gender neutral mc #obey me ao3

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asmotheavatarofhorny · 2 years ago

Text

You were in the living room when it happened.

Satan was leaning back against the arm of the sofa you were on, and you propped up your head on his knee which was conveniently right in your face as he buried his feet under you, providing a nice amount of warmth. You flicked your eyes across the page of a new novel you had been recommended as you read it aloud. It was nice. Just the two of you.

Until there were three. Asmo had practically floated in, his socked feet bouncing across the wooden floor as he ogled at his pocket mirror. He waved to Satan and kissed your cheek, opting to sit on your left with an arm hooked around your waist and his head rested on your shoulder. Okay, just the three of you. It was warmer this way, anyway.

Crunch

…

Crunch

……

Crunch—

Oh come on now.

You turned your head as much as Asmo would allow, to see the huge teddy bear that is Beel munching on some chips behind you. He gave one of his signature smiles and ruffled your hair before reaching his hands under your arms and lifting you up out of your comfortable position effortlessly, holding you up by your armpits. You would be disturbed if this wasn’t his chosen form of affection towards you. Unfortunately, this was normal. After Asmo’s protest and Satan’s grumbles at having cold feet, Beel climbed over the back of the couch and repositioned you to be sitting on his lap, his chin resting on your head as he glanced at the words in your book. Soon enough, the others regained their positions, although Satan had to either put his feet under Beel or uncomfortably rest them on his thighs, so he just opted to sit normally, a hand laid on your thigh, lightly squeezing every now and then when there was a suspenseful moment in the story. Great. Four of you. Well, at least Beel has comfy thighs.

You returned to reading, content with the amount of cuddles you were getting, although you did feel a bit less like a human and more like a stuffed animal this way. Suddenly, you heard the slapping of bare feet on the hard wood floor and a yawn. Oh shit. You glanced to your left, over Asmo’s head. A smaller demon with eye bags and purple-white hair stood with his arms crossed around his signature cow pillow. Belphie. He glided over to you, slouching the whole way. Surely his back must hurt, right? Either way, he was now climbing onto the couch and— of course. Right onto your lap. He nuzzled his head into your and Beel’s shoulders, letting his pillow fall to the ground in favor of getting closer to you. Now it was five.

A few moments, the loudness of a video game sounded. Levi. You heard a soft gasp and a small flash of light, undoubtedly him turning into his demon form at the sudden envy that his brothers’ got to cuddle puddle you and he didn’t. You heard some grumbling before he plopped down on Belphie’s discarded pillow, his face fell onto your thigh, and his tail wrapped around your leg. He commented on the happenings in your book as you read it, though he pretended not to care. ‘Normie activities’ he called it. Six. Lovely.

A soft humming filled the room before coming to an abrupt halt. Mammon. Surely he wouldn’t be content to sit across from you, right? He tried to push Satan over to no avail, as he just hissed at him and told him to ‘fuck off.’ Mammon scoffed and decided to climb up on the back of the couch and dangle his feet around Beel’s neck leaving his unsocked dogs right in your face. Thanks, Mammon. And with him, there were seven. You were just missing one brother, but you figured he was off doing some important work of some kind.

“Does anyone know where MC is? I have something to ask them—“ the signature deep voice rang through the room, before he paused and crossed his arms, pondering what in the hell is going on here. You took the opportunity to continue reading to your demons, hoping to attract Lucifer and keep your cuddle buddies from scattering. It worked, and he sat next to Satan, who ‘tsk’d’ in response. ‘It was only a trivial matter and it could wait’ he had said. Now the gauntlet was complete, and you were surrounded by seven demons who you’d attracted somehow. Good job, MC.

About twenty minutes later…

Knock

You inwardly sighed as you prepared for the worst. Your cuddle puddle stayed in its position though, so you assumed you had all come to the conclusion to sit and wait for it to go away.

…knock

Knock

Again, you continued reading and did nothing.

Click.

Goddamn it Mammon did you not lock the front door?!

“Hey, the door was open so I just decided to come in. I brought sandwiches—“ said the voice of a certain sorcerer. Solomon had welcomed himself in, and couldn’t help chuckle a little at the sight. You ignored him of course, as did the rest of your cuddle pile. Solomon weaseled himself next to Asmo, resting on the arm of the couch as Asmo put an arm around him, his head still nestled on your shoulder. Although no one took up Solomon’s offer of sandwiches. Seven demons, and two humans now.

Another twenty minutes or so passed, until you heard more footsteps enter the room. “Solomon, are you here? You left the front door open—“ a small gasp came from the direction of the voice, and a small yapping sound came from just below it. Something about being too close to MC? You weren’t sure. You don’t speak chihuahua, after all. Simeon sat down on the floor, leaning against the leg Levi had now let go of, his demon form having faded away a long time ago, with Luke in his lap. Luke crossed his arm in faux annoyance, but really he was happy to be included.

Soon enough, Diavolo caught wind of your harem’s whereabouts due to his butler’s eyes being everywhere. He merrily skipped into the room, Barbatos in tow and took a seat on an ottoman he had pulled up close to Lucifer. He attempted to lean his head on Lucifer’s shoulder, but he hadn’t allowed it. ‘Not in-front of MC’ he whispered, but you absolutely heard. Barbatos stood off to the side, opting to stand. Weird, but whatever floats your boat you guessed.

A while later, a load thumping of stomping feet disgraced your eardrums, Mephistopheles come to complain about something, no doubt. Damn he was annoying. Oh well. He crossed his arms and went on about something, attempting to drown your reading out. Mammon and Asmo simply glared at him, and it shut him up. Thank Diavolo. He decided to sit down on the floor in-front of Solomon, ‘to make sure you aren’t doing anything disgraceful in-front of the Demon Lord’ he said. Great. Ten demons, two humans, and two angels. What is it now, fourteen?

You continued to read until a pounding of running feet ran in behind you. Thirteen. She jumped up onto the back of the couch you sat on, occasionally kicking Solomon in the back. You didn’t know how exactly she found out about this, but she was here now. Hurray. Add a reaper to your harem of fifteen.

And last but not least, Raphael waltzed in, and opted to stand next to Mephisto. Even Barbatos had sat down by now, so surely he would crack and sit eventually. Right…?

A few hours later, with minimal interruptions, you had successfully finished reading your book. And on top of that, lulled a total of ten demons, three angels, a human, and a reaper to sleep with your subpar reading skills. You felt a sense of accomplishment, at least. Although Raph was still standing, which was mildly worrisome. You let your eyes slip shut, and eventually fell asleep.

You were destined to wake up sweaty and with a sore back, but it was worth it for the interspecies cuddle puddle.

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onyourowndaisymae · 2 years ago

Text

obey me characters hands hcs (demon brothers, dateables, + side characters)

college has whooped my ass but your girl has officially graduated with two degrees!! finally!! hopefully i will be able to get out more writing soon. i think i am also going to tweak my request rules in the coming days to make writing easier on myself and my schedule, so expect that soon. anyways enjoy these random headcanons that came to mind one night out of nowhere

content warnings: none

Lucifer

lucifer is usually wearing gloves, so you rarely get to see or feel his hands. so when you do, it's a treat.

his hands are cold, but not unbearably so. they perpetually feel like he's been out in the cold just a few minutes too long. when he touches your bare skin, it makes you jump-- but keep them close for a few minutes and you'll chase the cold away completely.

his hands are soft. probably not super surprising considering he's always wearing gloves, but it's still pleasant.

he's got big ass, strong hands. they may be soft, but that doesn't mean they're weak. lucifer is the type of person that could open a jar for you with such ease that he'd almost look disappointed in your weak little human arms. if he's in a good mood, he might tease you about it.

he's pretty pale, so you can see the color of his veins under his skin. he's also got just a few prominent veins-- nothing excessive, but just enough to hit that sweet spot between too much and not enough.

his nails are always pristine. he's the avatar of pride. do you think he'd willingly walk around with chipped nail polish? if something somehow happens, they will be redone by the next day, almost like they'd never chipped in the first place. either he'll call asmo over to fix them, or fix them himself, depending on how much time he has.

Mammon

mammon has pleasantly warm hands. sometimes they get a little sweaty, but it's not much of a problem honestly. he's like a nice little heating pack on a winter day. because his hands are warm, though, yours usually feel cold to him... and he will complain. it's mammon.

his hands are also pretty soft. gotta look nice, y'know? i can see him keeping lotion (and chapstick-- not relevant here but it's worth a mention regardless) on his person pretty often. this came about bc he got tired of the lotion he borrowed from asmo smelling all perfume-y getting him odd looks.

this man is always wearing at least one ring and you cannot convince me otherwise. i can see him wearing a lot of matching gold ring sets. they just look like they belong on him, y'know?

i think he's got a few subtle veins across his hands. he knows that people like that, so i think he's pretty proud of his hands. he even takes care to avoid chipping or otherwise messing up his nails so the whole look will stay cohesive.

Leviathan

oh you know this man's hands are clammy as fuck. sorry bud. facts are facts.

he's blessed with very pretty hands. his nails just grow in a pretty shape (and asmo makes sure to keep them that way), his fingers are slender and proportional, his hands are a normal size, and his skin stays pretty moisturized, even in harsh weather. he doesn't have to try. which is good, because we all know he wouldn't.

i think levi actually hates the feeling of rings and hand jewelry. he'd fidget with it too much and eventually become so aware of it that he'd need to take it off before he goes crazy. if he gets married and wears a traditional wedding ring, it would have to fit perfectly and be very comfortable for him to eventually get used to it.

levi picks at the pads of his fingers a lot when he's anxious, but he's not super prone to scaring there, so it isn't super noticeable. he'll go through bursts of trying to break this habit where he covers his poor hands in vaseline, but nothing even quite breaks him of it.

Satan

satan has hands crafted by god specifically to play piano and look nice holding books. look at him. there's no way he'd have ugly hands. they're soft and pretty, but i think he has to put more effort than expected into maintaining them.

he's another one that i think would be anti-ring for much of the same reason as levi. i think it would just feel odd on his fingers and he'd get irritated by their presence. he's okay wearing bracelets though.

his hands, slender and pretty as they remain, are also quite strong. he's the avatar of wrath, after all. he's probably the second or third best to go to when you need a tough jar opened.

his nails and cuticles always look presentable, but i think he finds grooming them unpleasant. he lets asmo do it for him-- the younger one's chattering distracts him from the irritating feeling of pushed back cuticles and trimmed hangnails. his hands aren't naturally soft, either, but asmo has developed a routine for him so they stay nice with a bit of regular (secret) effort. satan's all about seeming effortlessly perfect, after all, and his hands are no exception.

Asmo

softest hands in the entire cast. simeon and mephistopheles are good competitors, but this is not a battle he will lose.

his nails are always perfectly manicured and soft. he's got a million different lotions scatter across his room, the HoL, RAD, etc., all to make sure he never encounters even a hint of dry skin. he's got emergency nail polish, too, just incase a nail were to chip while he's out and about.

asmo reaches a lot for daintier, tasteful jewelry. think small rings, delicate bracelets, pretty gemstones, the works. he's very particular about matching the jewelry both to his outfit AND his nails.

he doesn't have any visible veins, so his hands seem inhumanly perfect at times. he likes this. compliment his hands and he'll swoon-- not that he cares more about them than the rest of his body, but because it shows you notice the smaller details he puts effort into, and he appreciates it.

Beel

big boy's got big ass hands. even if you're grown yourself, putting your palms against his will make you feel like a kid again. he could palm a basketball like shaq.

he's got his fair share of callouses. i think he mostly leaves them alone because they serve the purpose of improving his grip, which is nice for the gym or fangol. asmo probably gets on him for it, but beel doesn't care enough to do something about it. i can also see him having quite a few prominent veins on both hands.

his hands fluctuate in temperature a LOT. it's pretty unpredictable, too. you can touch his hand and find it scorching hot, then touch it again ten minutes later to find it eerily lukewarm. nobody knows why this happens.

beel has to be very conscious of his hygiene, or his hands will get really dirty in a matter of minutes. he's constantly eating and touching things, so he needs to either be careful or have a napkin on hand. i think lucifer carries hand sanitizer for this exact reason (although he won't admit it).

Belphegor

belphegor's hands are upsettingly lukewarm. it's like touching things or inclimate weather has no effect on him. they're always lazily warm, like a glass of water sitting out in the sun.

his hands stay soft mainly because he doesn't do much with them. he is, however, prone to hangnails. he's lazily bite them off and accidentally cause more in the process-- not that he particularly cares.

he leaves nail and hand maintenance in asmo's hands. he'll let the fifth born do anything to them so long as he gets to sleep through it.

not anti-jewelry/rings per se, but doesn't care enough about it to a) put any on, or b) make sure he doesn't lose whatever he's wearing that day. if it somehow falls off, the most you're getting from him is a quick look around, unless the piece was really meaningful and/or borrowed.

Diavolo

is anyone surprised to hear that diavolo has massive, strong hands? no? didn't think so.

he's got really thick fingers, too. you feel like a toddler comparing hand sizes with him. he's just a mountain of a man.

his hands are always hot but never sweaty. it's comforting most of the times, but if you're already hot his touch is like fire. dawg. don't touch me. i'm sweating. his entire body is like this, too.

his nails are always very particularly manicured (it's an image thing) and fairly soft. he cares enough to use lotion but not enough to carry it. he's not one to be super vain in that regard.

there's a tasteful amount of veinage on this prince's hands. enough to be attractive, but not enough to make him seen overworked or to age him.

Barbatos

definitively the coldest fucking hands in the entire cast. barbatos' hands are cold enough to wake the dead with just a touch.

his hands are always covered by gloves as well, so they're not as rough as you'd expect. still, though, the butler is always keeping his hands busy, so i imagine there are still some minor calluses across his hands. nothing enough to be super noticable, but still there.

he's got long, slender fingers. very regal. his hands themselves are average sized. compared to someone like diavolo, though, they're dainty.

his hands are also very pale, but for some reason you can't spot a single vein. it's odd. you can see the tendons and bones shift when he moves so you know his hands are built like normal... but something about the veins just seems so odd. mammon tricked luke into thinking barbatos doesn't have any blood, so that's why no one can see his veins. this is wrong, but luke is too polite to ask about it. (the real explanation is that, although he's pale, he's got pretty thick skin-- demon perks-- so you don't really see much below it).

Simeon

simeon's hands are pleasantly warm at all times. you can feel the heat through his gloves. it's just a very comforting thing-- he'll hold your hand anytime you ask, so don't be afraid to ask if you're a little chilly or in need of some reassurance.

when he takes the gloves off, his hands are silky smooth. did you expect anything different? i can see him being very methodical abut hygiene in general, and in this case i think he's always using a nice lotion on his hands before he puts his gloves on for the day. when they come off, his hands are soft and sweet-smelling-- like cocoa butter and vanilla.

he doesn't paint his nails or anything, but they always look very nice. his liberal use of lotion pairs well with his other grooming habits. his cuticles are never overgrown, his nails are always short and uniform, and his nail beds are healthy and clear. it's minor, but it just adds to the overwhelming perfection that simeon exudes.

Solomon

solomon's hands are somehow both clammy AND cold. pick a struggle, peepaw.

on the plus side, his hands are soft. even in the winter, solomon never has to worry about rough knuckles or dry skin. which is good, because you cannot convince me that this man would remember to regularly apply lotion. he's a menace.

his hands are pale, like the rest of them, but also more veiny than i think most would anticipate. he's got one prominent one heading to his ring finger, and the rest are a bit smaller but still noticeable. his pale skin allows you to see the blue of his veins underneath. they're interesting to just stare at at watch move when he flexes his fingers.

i can see him wearing a ring or two on occasion. i don't think he'd care a whole lot about the aesthetics, but i think he'd put in enough effort to wear gold when his outfit has gold and switch to silver when wearing outfits with silver in them. it's a small thing, but it lets your know he's putting in at least a little thought.

Luke

luke has got such little, cute hands. his fingers are small and a little stubby, just like his nails. his nails also grow slowly, too, so he doesn't have to do much to keep them presentable.

unfortunately, they're often a little sticky. he bakes a lot, and while he's not usually dirty or messy, he's still young and somehow just attracts stickiness like any other child. it's especially bad when he uses honey in his recipes-- his hands are perpetually sticky for like two or three days after, no matter how often he washes his hands.

luke is a nervous little child, and for that i could see him being someone that picks at his cuticles. simeon gently discourages this habit, but at the end of the day he can't do much but make sure they heal properly.

BONUS:

Thirteen

she gives barbatos a run for his money in the cold hand competition. her fingers are ice. unlike barbatos, she will use this to her advantage. you'll find her frigid fingers on the back of your neck or under the hem of your shirt when you least expect it. she doesn't have any reason to do this. she just thinks it's funny.

her hands are a little dry, mainly around the knuckles. she strikes me as someone that constantly rubs her dry hands together and bitches about needing lotion, while simultaneously never remembering her own. she probably bums a dab of lotion off of someone ever day (i'm thinking asmo).

her nails are always really nice. they're just naturally shaped really well, round at the top and pretty straight. they're strong and don't break easy, which is good, because a hangnail can throw off her concentration for an entire afternoon.

Raphael

like belphegor, raphael's hands are an upsetting temperature-- no matter how warm or cold your hands are, his feel lukewarm against yours. it should literally be impossible, but then again, a lot of things you've encountered in the devildom should be impossible.

he's got some calluses. they're pretty interesting, honestly-- if he was a human, he'd have the bumpy, dry hands of a weathered veteran or lonely woodworker, all rough skin and long years embedded into his flesh. but he's an angel. the calluses on his hands are small and fairly easy to miss if you don't touch him. but run your hand along the ridges of his fingers or the fatty parts of his palms and you'll find them just fine.

raphael has really pretty nail beds. something about the way they look is just so clean and nice. he never has overgrown cuticles or anything, either. just really nice hands for a man that does not spare a single thought to the way they look.

Mephistopheles

this man has hands like butter. they're just so soft and luxurious. you think they'd be a bit more rugged seeing as he's a rich boy with a penchant for horseback riding, but no. i can see him being very anal about his hands. they're always soft with not a callous or imperfection in sight.

speaking of perfect, this motherfucker has amazing nails. they're just a tad longer than you'd expect to be traditionally "masculine", but that just enhances how slender and pretty his fingers look. no wonder he's always pointing and gesturing so dramatically-- he's gotta show off all that hard work!

pretty boy here just has really nice, strong hands. not really veiny, but very smooth and even. his palms are a bit lighter than his skintone, naturally, but across the board there's no discoloration or scarring to be seen. you can tell he's a noble just by looking at his hands.

he's usually in those gloves but, if not, i could see him being a rings kinda guy. only tasteful ones, though, and in moderation. not like mammon.

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wishluc · 1 year ago

Note

Hello! I’m a bit nervous since I’ve just started following you but! You said your asks are open so I’m giving it a go!

Soft? Yandere Diavolo? With him being all possessive and affectionate of the reader? And reader maybe being okay about it? Them being resigned to all the cuddling and just going “well what can you do?” While Diavolo is snuggling them feeling super euphoric?

I don’t know if I did this right.

If you don’t wanna do it or if this isn’t your style then that’s fine! no need to stress about it you can just delete this ask, it is you blog after all.

Anyways! I hope you have an amazing day. Bye ❤️

Hihi anon!! I really had sooo mcuch fun with this ♡ I'm terribly sorry it took so long to get out!!

There are worse places to be, you think, than in the arms of the future king of the Devildom.

At least you know that Lord Diavolo doesn't wish you any harm, not in the same way that others do. He whispers to you, with a large hand on your cheek and his voice unusually soft, that he'd never hurt you—you don't have it in you to tell him that his love, all his deliberate caresses and fond promises, was the source of your suffering. You couldn't admit that it shattered something inside you when he confessed his feelings, that you felt all your carefully built relationships crumble the moment he announced your relationship to everyone else, and that nothing hurt you more than the searing pain in your heart when it became abundantly clear that you were never leaving the Devildom. ("Your home," Diavolo had announced, "is in the Devildom now. Why would you want to leave?")

Maybe the signs were always there; his constant fascination with you and your world, his persistence that you spend nights at the castle and his barrage of invitations to dinner, taking you out to the Devildom's finest restaurants. You should have noticed how his warm smile dimmed when you went out arm in arm with Asmo and how insistently he kept asking you if you really wanted to stay in HoL after the incident. You foolishly believed that this was him making sure the exchange student was comfortable, and not his growing jealousy of the time the brothers had with you—Time he didn't have to spare. And you were still oblivious, even when the brothers started receiving a suspicious increase in their council duties, when the number of guests at the 'exchange student dinners' with Lord Diavolo dwindled in numbers until only you and him were left together, with Barbatos waiting nearby, and when his somewhat subtle words of affection turned bolder, his delicate compliments becoming audacious, almost, but you stayed silent despite how uncomfortable you felt. After all, this was his domain you were in, and by his kindness that you were able to live in relative comfort.

And when it finally occurred to you just how short the chains he placed on you were, you had long lost any opportunity to leave.

(Though a little part of you was aware that the moment you stumbled into the Devildom, the moment the smallest gleam of interest flickered in Lord Diavolo's eye, your fate had already been sealed.)

You tell yourself that you should be content that he's careful about where his hands linger now, gently wrapping himself around you while placing soft kisses on your skin, instead of excitedly smothering you like he used to do when you first met him. You try to be grateful for the little things—thanks to Barbatos's involvement, Diavolo was a lot more...lenient about how much time you spent with the others, and he had eased up on the extremely extravagant gifts. You can appreciate his sincere feelings, and you should appreciate it—who else can say they have a king wrapped around their finger?

But no amount of reassurance can quell your pounding heart or the instinctive tensing of your body as his hands stroke you in an attempt to ease you into his embrace. He's tried, before, to coax you with cloying, saccharine words, and he still tries it now, but it doesn't work in helping you relax. Every affectionate word only serves to heighten your dread, reminding you of just how serious he was. If he was simply just infatuated with you, fascinated by your unfamiliar manner of speaking and demeanor, you could hold on to the hope that his interest would whittle away, that something newer would catch his attention and you were free to spend the rest of your time in the Devildom in relative peace. But he spoke of love, of how much he adored you and how perfect you were for him, of how much he missed you and with every adoring word and intimate whisper, you could feel the part of you that was hopeful and optimistic dim and wither, until all that was left was a deafening silence and the crushing reality.

You've long tuned him out in the middle of him talking about his day. If it were the you from a few months ago, you would have listened closely to every detail and every happening, but now, from a combination of resentment, indifference and general despair, you could hardly bring yourself to listen.

"If you'd like to try it, we can go next week?" Your mind races for a moment; what was happening next week?

"I can't," you say, "I promised Mammon I'd go with him to a modeling gig."

You can't see him, with him facing your back, but you know he's frowning, the pensive look he always has when he's deep in thought.

"I'm sure Mammon won't mind if you can't make it," he instead says, breaking the developing silence, "I'll compensate him if he loses the job."

You want to shrink in on yourself again, suffocated by doubt once more. Would Mammon really be fine with it? Your relationship with the brothers was already delicate enough as a result of Diavolo's interest in you, and you were hoping the day spent with Mammon would help reassure you that it wasn't all that bad. That things could be salvaged. That you still had someone.

Clearly, Diavolo didn't wish the same.

"I guess that's dealt with, then."

Diavolo moves in closer, his lips pressed against the crook of your neck. The warmth radiating off him is almost uncomfortable now, but you pretend it doesn't bother you as one of his hands goes to find your clasped hands, gently tugging them apart only to grasp your free hand in his.

"I could take care of anything for you," a soft assurance, "you only need to say the word."

You sigh, defeated, "I know."

"I wish you'd ask more of me," he admits, his hand gently squeezing yours, in what you think should be soothing, "you can trust me."

You hum noncommittally.

The air around you seems to get tenser, his chest stiff against your back. He calls out your name softly, sounding almost vulnerable.

"Do I..." He hesitates, but you know the question is on the tip of his tongue, and you brace yourself, "Are you happy, with me?"

It's not the best situation to find yourself in; none of this is. But it isn't the worst. You could be back in the attic, strong hands around your neck, or you could be cowering behind a crumbling wall. You could be hiding in an empty stall, tears of frustration racing down your cheeks.

You bring your intertwined fingers up to your lips to leave a soft kiss, "Yes. I really am."

After all, there are worse places to be, worse fates awaiting you. In comparison, this isn't too unbearable. It's this reminder that keeps you from breaking down yet again, and this reminder that keeps the fake smile on your face later.

all works © wishluc. do not copy, steal or repost my works on other platforms. (including translations)

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2d-reality · 1 year ago

Text

Little Things (The Envious Thirdborn)

characters: Leviathan, GN!MC navigation: Lucifer | Mammon | Levi | Satan | Asmo | Beel | Belphie content/warnings: little things you do for the brothers, out of love. fluff. established relationship (implied you are dating all seven brothers equally with the exception of mammon whom i love more) word count: 1334, this one got away from me a little notes: Each brother has their own part, linked above. I am still my own editor and I loathe editing, so please forgive any mistakes!

Adrenaline pulses through Levi’s veins. His hands shake with it, even as he sits back in his gaming chair, and cold shock ices over the hot rush of blood in his veins.

A Sucre Frenzy collectible has slipped from his grasp. It was a limited-time run, only live for a few minutes, given how quickly stock had sold out. He’d been watching the drop for days, even though the band had only posted vaguely to something happening, with a link to a blank webpage with a countdown. No one had known what it was they were hinting at, and even though Levi had what he thought was every e-commerce website preloaded to ensure a fulfilled order no matter what website hosted a flash sale, the limited edition merch he’d coveted since the launch went live was now nothing more than a distant dream. Maybe he didn’t click fast enough. Maybe the slight error in the shipping address that had forced him to re-enter his details had pushed him out of the running. Maybe Sucre Frenzy knew that he was just a worthless shut in, and didn’t deserve the special treatment. Maybe he just wasn’t good enough after all. He should have known.

A frantic knock at his bedroom door registered dimly in the midst of his self-deprecating spiral. It isn’t until his tail, flicking anxiously behind him, knocks over the stack of manga next to his desk and he hears the sound of your voice on the other side of the door, that his thoughts grind to a halt long enough to push his body into action.

It’s muscle memory that gets him up, still half-lost in his head, and leads him to the door. He’s speaking the other half of this week’s special passphrase before he even realizes he’s doing it. He reaches for the door handle, then pauses. For a moment, he watches his hand tremble, and hears you again.

“Levi?”

Sucking in a breath, he opens the door, and the smile you wear nearly blinds him. You’re clutching your DDD to your chest and look fit to bursting.

“So?” you chirp. “Did you see it? I bet you’re excited to get it all! We don’t even know exactly what they’re giving us!”

Us. You had managed to get your hands on the drop. Jealousy sparks in his chest, sharp and biting, and for a moment, he resents you. He was the one who introduced you to Sucre Frenzy, and now you were the competition. In the next moment, a bucket of cold shame is dumped over his head. He couldn’t be angry with you, not really, not when your eyes sparkle in the ambient light of Henry’s fish tank. The green monster still coats his tongue as he speaks. His tail swishes over the tile behind him as he grips the side of his bedroom door, attempting to shield himself from your exuberance.

“I didn’t get it.” It sounds pathetic in his head, but comes out of his mouth as a snarl. Your expression falls.

“Oh.” You take a step forward, maybe without even thinking about it, and he begins to shut the door without thinking either. “Oh, Levi.”

Your foot stops him from shutting himself out completely, and you slip inside. “What happened? You’re usually lightning fast.” Your gaze slides to his monitor setup, and you take a step before stopping yourself, turning back to him to await a response and permission to continue. He can’t find anything to say, but forces something out anyway as jealousy clouds his mind.

“It’s stupid.”

Your hand settles on his arm, soft and unobtrusive. Your brow is furrowed, and while your eyes are sad, your voice is firm. “You’re not stupid.”

Levi realizes he’d said I’m stupid. Shame shocks down his spine twofold. You hated it when he talked down to himself. Hot tears well in his eyes as he shuts his bedroom door and crowds his body against it, forehead pressed to the wood and shoulders hunched forward. Your hand slips from him in the process, and his tail curls around both of his legs. Now he had not only lost out on this once-in-a-lifetime drop, but he’d disappointed you, too. He really was a useless idiot.

“I hope you like your merch,” he says. He means it, at least partially, but you can hear the jealousy in his voice. “Just leave me alone.”

You’re silent for a second. Levi waits for the word of encouragement you’re sure to leave before you go, holding back angry tears until he can hear the door shut behind you.

“Levi. I didn’t get this drop for me. You can have it.”

He doesn’t believe you. He was too slow, not well prepared enough, he didn’t deserve the merch. He wasn’t quick and bright, like you. He wishes you would leave him to his misery, but it seems you’re not done.

“Not to mention, I can’t leave.”

He glares at you from over his shoulder. “Why not?”

The corner of your mouth twitches as you gesture to him. “You’re standing in front of the door.”

He is, you’re right again, and the third hit to his fragile ego is enough to shatter it. All mirth vanishes from your face as his chin quivers and tears finally spill over his lashes.

“Leviathan,” you say, gently, and he allows you to take him into your arms. His tail wraps around you before the rest of him, and you hold him with one hand bracing the back of his neck, and the other secured around his waist, pressed as close as you can be. He buries his face into your neck, and your cheek rests over his ear. “I mean it,” you continue as he shakes. “I know you like to have one thing to use and one to preserve, so I figured I would try to snag a second set. It won’t be exactly how you want, but I really only wanted to get it at all for you.”

A whine pulls from his throat. He knows you well enough by now to know you’re telling the truth. You’re too good to him.

Your hand strokes his hair, nails catching on the base of one of his antlers. “Shit happens. It isn’t your fault you didn’t make it this time, but you also have your Henry as backup. I’d never let my Lord of Shadows miss out on something I know is important, if I can help it.”

You pull away, and he reluctantly lets you, but can’t bear to look at your face. Your gentle fingers brush his long bangs out of his eyes, and the hem of your sleeve brushes over his ruddy cheeks, catching a few more tears. “I love you more than any piece of merch. And who knows, maybe Mammon caught on to the hype and managed to get in to turn it at a million grimm markup. I bet I can convince him to -ahem- permanently loan it to you. Through me.”

This makes him chuckle, and he risks a glance at you to see you smiling. Your expression, coupled with your touch still tingling on his face, soothes over the hurt like a balm.

“Thank you, MC.”

You set his heart pounding again by pressing a trail of kisses across his cheek, to the corner of his mouth. “Of course. Now, they leaked a new music video link in my receipt email, so we have to watch it before anyone else does.”

This brightens him significantly. “Really? Yeah!” He breaks away to bound over to his computer. You forward him the link, and pull your matching gaming chair next to his, settling in to help him liveblog his reaction.

You’re true to your word, and when the conspicuously large package arrives a few weeks later, you’re breathless at his door in seconds. You hold the camera while he livestreams the unboxing, and neither of you is sure who is smiling brighter.

#obey me #levi #leviathan #obey me leviathan #levi x reader #leviathan x reader #levi x mc #leviathan x mc #om! levi #om! leviathan #obey me levi #obey me x reader

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eroset · 2 years ago

Note

hello!! hole ur doing well, can i request top!m reader w beel from OM? smth involving lingeries n feminization maybe? tyyy<3

TYYYY FOR REQUESTING THIS I GOT CARRIED AWAY CZ I LUUUUUUV BEEL + LINGERIE + FEMINIZATION IT MAKES ME CRAZY KISSES KISSES u accidentally hit one of my favvvv things so idc that its outrageously long <33333 the typo is so funny i would be doing better with a hole. anyway i am doing well here is a gift just 4 u my love hee hee i hope u like itttt🙈

cw: chest/nipple play (c. receiving), chestjob (r. receiving), oral (r. receiving), feminization, praise. ended up making reader more of a soft dom than just a top so 4give me if you did not want that <33

minors dni!

"what is this?"

on his knees in front of your closet in the aftermath of a failed stashed snack raid, beelzebub holds up a fine strip of fabric; a shimmering piece from a lingerie set that costed more than your life, probably.

"oh, that's from asmo. he said i could break it in."

beel gives you a blank look as you speak. "break it in?" and you see his hands tense toward the literal, flexing in a manner as if he intends to shred the fabric. your hand shoots out to grab his wrist, though you know your own strength won't stop him.

"as in use!" you breathe out a sigh of relief when he stops.

"why couldn't asmo use it? isn't it his?" he holds it up to inspect it properly. it's a white, lacy thing with a delicate trim that catches in the light. it's transparent and gauzy in places, with silk ribbons to hold it all together. it's pretty.

not functional, though. asmo had been given a boxed promotional set in an array of sizes, many of which were much too big for him, and much too expensive to just brazenly throw out. he'd opted instead to pawn gift them to you.

beel frowns when you explain this. runs a thumb over the fabric, thoughtful. "it doesn't look too big."

you grin. "he said the top half was way too big for him. he doesn't like women's lingerie, says it fits weird on him. it'd probably fit you, though." you stand from your crouched position beside him, ruffling his hair. "your chest is like a girl's, anyway. guess you're luckier than he is."

and something clicks.

...

it takes months from then for him to work up to this.

for someone like beelzebub, who is simple in his pleasures, who doesn't bother thinking over what he would and wouldn't theoretically like (what's the point?), who is instead content in sticking to what he knows feels good and basks in it, this is a step in a direction he doesn't know what to make of.

but he doesn't see the point thinking too much about it, because if it feels good, then what does it matter?

and it does feel good. it felt good when you said it so easily with him on his knees: your chest is like a girl's, anyway. and when you joked during levi's boring tabletop roleplaying game on your character's twist royal lineage, when asked who your princess would be, your hand flirtily on his knee under the table: beel, i guess. and after one of his work out sessions, when his shirt rode up and you zeroed in on it like a moth to a flame, smoothed a hand thoughtfully over his waist: like one of those bikini models in mammon's fashion magazines.

and it feels good now, when you have him seated on your lap on your couch like something precious, dressed up for you in white lace and silk.

beel doesn't feel self-conscious, even when he's wearing so little. the lingerie fits him well, as you'd predicted. the bralette of the dress clings to his chest, stretched tight over his pecs and fanning out in a pretty skirt that he can't help but fidget with. the suspender belt and stockings were a fight to get on, but they make his legs feel smooth, and he likes the way your eyes darken when you gaze over his skin pudging out of the tight straps crossing up his thighs.

"no," he says with a shake of his head, and he leans forward a little, into you, still towering over you. it's a wonder how you can make him feel small and cherished when he's so much bigger than you are. his thick thighs splay across your hips, and they tense when you run your hands over them.

"you look like a doll," you say with a smile, and that look is in your eye again. it makes his stomach hot. your finger hooks under one of the straps on his thigh and pull it taut. it pops back against his skin with a snap!, and he jumps. you smile at that, too. it makes his stomach hotter.

he sits still while your hands work over him, smoothing and cupping over his body. sometimes over the lingerie and sometimes under, and the touches are long and hot enough for him to end up with him starting to get hard, tense in the way he always gets when he wants friction but wants even more to behave for you. it feels weird to be stroked like this, like you really are admiring the craftmanship of a doll, or maybe just groping him like a pervert, but it's not unpleasant.

"it fits you so well." you pinch and stoke up his waist, just under the hem of the bralette, and he finally realizes your intent when he sees your eyes fix on his chest. "especially here." oh, but he's always too quick to get worked up when you play around with him like this.

"um, wait," he says, hands flying to circle your arms, but your palms are already cupping the meat of his pecs firmly, and he jerks forward without meaning to. instead of pulling them away, all he can do is cling to your forearms when you make a massaging motion. heat coils in him and he releases a heavy sigh. "i..."

you look back up at him, feigning innocence. "is something wrong?"

"no, i just- ah," he mumbles, suddenly embarrassed. his knees try to knock together but only end up squeezing your hips. "my chest..." his tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth.

beelzebub doesn't continue. your hands continue their motions, kneading his pecs with the firm intent of making him blush and shudder in your lap, and of course it works - his chest has always been sensitive. his arms shake when they circle your head to rest his forearms along the back of the couch, leaning into your touch.

he chokes out a sound when your thumbs finally press over his nipples, and his hips stutter into yours. you rub them in short, firm circles that make him purr, boneless against you, feeling much too hot to really lament getting hard so quickly. you've always liked to exploit this weakness of his.

your hips cant up into his hips and he whines against your neck open-mouthed as you roll them between your thumbs. "that was fast."

"uh-huh," he pants. he rolls his hips firmly and without rhythm, just seeking friction - you haven't reprimanded him for it, so he's not doing anything wrong, right? he continues rocking eagerly.

"i was right about what i said before," you coo into his ear, a distraction from your nips and squeezes at his nipples between your fingers. "your chest is like a girl's." and you press down on them again, hard, and buck your hips up just right, and he melts against you with a sweet moan.

it's a short-lived pleasure. he grumbles a confused sound when you push him back, leaning him back in your lap. his cock is hard and heavy, straining up against his white panties, but they must be enchanted to stay in place. he jerks forward without meaning to when you give his chest one final squeeze, a glint in your eyes.

"i wanna see what else i can do with them."

...

beelzebub sits dutifully between your spread thighs, ignoring the fire in his gut in favor of staring in anticipation at your cock tenting against the zipper of your jeans.

"it tastes weird," he complains as you swipe your thumb under his lower lip, wiping away any wayward pink. but his eyes remain glued to your cock, and he swallows reflexively.

"not about how it tastes. it's supposed to make you look pretty." you cap the lipstick and set it aside. (or was it lip gloss? he doesn't know the difference.)

beel squirms a little and finally tears his gaze from your bulge, hands tentatively squeezing your knees. "do i?" he asks quietly. he looks away when you meet his gaze, bashful. "do i look pretty like a..." you've called him pretty in the past, but this time...

your hand catches on his jaw and force his head back to look at you. "like a girl?" you clarify, and your grip softens with a fond smile when he slowly and bashfully nods. your thumb presses against his lips, despite being so careful in your application of color, and he opens it pliantly. "you look like a very pretty girl, beel."

"oh," he breathes, your thumb pressed firmly on his tongue while your knuckles hold under his chin, keeping his mouth open. he squeezes your knees again and clenches his own together and his eyes once more fall down when your other hand drifts to your zipper.

he should be embarrassed about the way he salivates when your cock springs free, especially since you can feel it when you hold his mouth open. you fist your cock and stroke it slowly, watching as he swallows reflexively around nothing, and his spine tingles when you chuckle lowly.

"sit still, beel." you warn, and pull him toward your cock and angle it properly for him, just enough to almost graze the hot head of it against his tongue. you say something else but just the smell of you so close to him has his brain sparking. all he can do is nod to whatever you said, sharp and jerky, eyes wide and begging.

but you still don't release him. you keep your grip on his chin, holding him in place as you slowly and firmly stroke yourself, head angled toward his tongue, so close, as if you were just going to cum over his tongue and he whines low, now confused. you knew how much he loved you in his mouth- what were you doing?

you smile as beel squirms, this time shifting to angle your hips up a little. but when you pull him forward, you pull him up- away from your cock, and the momentum pulls his chest forward, cushioning it against your stomach. you sigh at the feeling and release his mouth, which is drooling freely.

"like this," you murmur, your hands guiding his to the sides of his chest. he pushes his pecs together as you direct him to, wobbling a little on his knees before he steadies himself.

his eye snap from your cock sandwiched between his pecs to your face a little frantically once he realizes that you aren't, in fact, going to throatfuck him. "but-"

"not yet, baby," you croon, like he's so silly for wanting your cock in his mouth instead of between his tits. "said i wanted to play with your chest more, didn't i? you're doing so good."

one of your hands grips his hair at the back of his head, not enough to hurt, just to steady him. the other wiggles between where you're connected; you fiddle with the ribboned straps of his bralette, feeding your cock underneath it to hug it firmly between his pecs, and he shudders when you rub one of his nipples with a thumb for good measure before you lean back.

like this, you direct, and beel can't help but obey you when you manhandle him in in how to move. it's a much tighter fit than he thought it'd be- the meat of his chest already pops a bit between the ribbons, made all the tighter with the heat of your thick cock pulsing between them. he's clumsy at first, not sure how tight to squeeze or how fast to move, but he gains a slow and steady rhythm after a while, one that makes you coo in approval.

the sight of it is mesmerizing, your fat cockhead thrusting in and out of his pecs with a slick pop every time it reappears. it's hot and sticky from his drool, which makes for an easier glide, and soon he's getting into it too, panting a little every time he goes down.

and with you groaning above him, his own arousal is long forgotten in favor of chasing yours.

you thrust your hips up once when he strokes down and your cock hits his chin, smearing against his lips; he gasps and heat floods him at the taste, the way it always does. his tongue sticks out reflexively, swirling around the head of your cock, and when you don't scold him he moans around it, head bobbing down.

from this position he can't take much, but even just the inch he gets in his mouth is amazing. he sucks it dutifully, reverently, and massages his chest around you, coaxing your cock to spit more delicious precum against his tongue.

"fuck," you wheeze, and beelzebub gargles a moan when you thrust up higher. "your mouth's so fucking hot." your tone makes his hole clench, but before he can really get into it, the grip you have on his hair pulls his head off. he suckles at your head as you pull out, a strand of saliva connecting your pulsing head to his mouth.

he licks his lips greedily, savoring the flavor, and pants open-mouthed when you thrust between his chest. "more," he whines, tongue hanging out to catch your cockhead every time you thrust up. he squeezes his pecs together and bounces them on your cock, eager for your cum, and moans when you hiss in pleasure.

"jus' like that," you slur, rocking your hips with him. "so good, you're doing so good."

he sucks at your head greedily whenever it reaches his mouth, tonguing your slit and laving it with care, all the while pinching and rolling you in his chest. his hips buck against one of your calves clumsily, more of an afterthought to the pleasure of his mouth, and he chokes on his spit when you abruptly shove his head down, feeding your cock in deeper.

"take it," you grunt, and he sucks you into his mouth as deep as he can with his chest in the way. it's wet and sticky from drool and precum, and your balls slap noisily against the underside of his pecs every time he bounces them down. it's lewd but he doesn't care, too caught up in the wet heat of everything to focus on anything else but your voice and your cock throbbing against his chest and the way your free hand thumbs at one of his nipples. "that's it, take it, swallow it all like a good girl."

he does so obediently, moaning all the while, swallowing down the thick load you give him, hot and sticky in his mouth, like a good girl. he can feel everything, every throb of your lipstick-peppered cock between his chest as you thrust into him, every pulse of your heavy balls against the satin ropes crossing his chest as your cock spits rope after rope of sticky cum over his tongue and the back of his throat. he doesn't stop, milking you for as much cum as he can get; swirls his tongue against your head as he sucks, head bobbing, massaging his tits around you. the extra attention makes it last longer than most of your orgasms, and you grunt and roll your hips with him, prolonging it for as much as you can. his eyes roll. he's in heaven.

finally, you eventually pull beel off, this time with more effort- he suckles you all the while, greedy to keep you in, and finally separates with a final yank and a satisfying pop. “tastes so good.” he drools, still panting, rubbing his cheek against your thigh, a slow, satisfied look creeping into his dewy eyes.

he rubs his cheek against your palm happily when you settle it down on him, like a cat, not caring about the smearing of drool or lipstick or cum. the heat in him hasn't quelled, but he's more sated now with a bellyful of your hot cum. his favorite snack. your other hand fidgets with his chest and he squeaks when you tweak his nipples, pulling your cock free from under his lingerie with a lewd, sticky sound.

he almost thinks you're done until you knock your calf up, right against his cock- he moans suddenly and jerks his hips down to meet you, gripping your spit-stained jeans.

"we're not done yet, don't worry." your fist returns to his hair and pulls him up higher and higher, knee firm between his legs, until you can pepper his jaw with kisses. "don't you want me to fuck you like a good girl, too, beel?"

#dom reader #top reader #male reader #top male reader #obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me beelzebub #ro writes

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strawberry-cowmilk · 1 year ago

Text

first kiss with the younger brothers

mc's gender is not mentioned, not proof read

content warnings: none

-----

Satan

rad exams were next week and you were in the library studying with satan

of course satan had been studying for these exams before the whole semester even began so if you don't understand something, he'd explain it to you

and satan sure has saved your exams and papers before

anyways, once you were done studying and back at home it was already really late (you thought there was no more dinner left but lucifer hid some for you in his office (satan was not pleased))

and before going to bed, satan told you how proud he was of your work today and offered you a goodnight kiss

Asmodeus

asmo was on cooking duty today, satan cooked yesterday and told him he had already done grocery shopping for him

but asmo and satan also had a fight that day, so satan lied and all that was in the fridge were two onions

it was a whole hour before dinner time so asmo asked you for help with shopping and cooking (he'll kill satan later)

after running to the store and rushing back home to put something decent on the table, you were finally done cooking

asmo was so grateful for your help he asked to kiss you

he then realised your first kiss would not have happened without satan's petty revenge so nevermind getting mad at him

Beelzebub

there was an important fangol game in a few days so beel was working out in his room

and since belphie was sleeping, he asked you to time or count stuff like how many pushups he can do in a minute

this went on for the days leading up to the game beel was training for, and on the big day you were watching him in the audience

it was not looking good for a while, but beel's team did manage to win in the end

after the game, beel went to you and thanked you for helping him with his training and said that therefore the victory was partly thanks to you

he then asked if he could kiss you, after the kiss he's so happy he wants to hold your hand for the rest of the week

Belphegor

there was a new movie being shown in the theatre, and belphie desperately wanted to see it, and he asked you to join him

unless you like three hour long documentaries about astronomy it will be a long evening for you

belphie was so desperate to see it he asked you to wake him up in case he fell asleep

at some point, the movie was showing various shots of pretty galaxies with soft music playing in the background and it was making belphie feel soft

so he went 'hey, what if we kissed during-' and then stopped talking

belphie got kind of embarrassed for saying that out loud, but you weren't against the idea so he kissed you with the stars in the background

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me scenarios #obey me imagines #obey me swd #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #obey me fluff #obey me satan #asmodeus obey me #beelzebub obey me #belphegor obey me #gn!mc

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mermaidfanficlibrary · 2 years ago

Text

A Beautiful Birthday

Characters: Asmodeus

CW: Slight nsfw (making out), drinking, body insecurity

Theme: Romance

Reader: Male Reader (but not really specified)

A/U: None

Premise: Celebrating the most beautiful Demons birthday! Who is that you might ask? Why Asmodeus of course!

THIS IS MOSTLY SFW!

.....................................................................................................................

It was Asmodeus’s birthday, a day that was treated as if it were a holiday. This year however was different because there was only one thing he deeply desired for his special day.

It was odd to his brothers for Asmodeus to not be requesting some grand party or a huge event. They all questioned him about it, and all he was in reply was, “I wanted something different this year!”

The only reason he wanted something different was because his heart wanted to spend time with the one person he loved more than anything, sometimes close to trumping his love for himself. But that wasn’t going to happen.

The one different factor this year was that you were here in the Devildom, with him. He was craving to hold you, to just take up all of your attention and spend it on him.

That’s all he wanted for his birthday. He found you in your room, you were simply scrolling on your phone with your back curved as if it were a small hill.

“You’ll hurt your back like that cutie~”

You look up from your phone, the light from it illuminating your face showing all of your features. Even if the light didn’t flatter you well, Asmo thought you looked so stunning.

“I’ll be fine. It's comfy anyway.”

Your response simply caused him to pout as he walked over sitting down across from you. He put your phone down causing you to stare deep into his light orange eyes that always seemed to always want something. They always desired something.

And that desired look only grew whenever his gaze landed on you. Like at this moment, you could see the clouded desire grace his eyes as you two sat in the silence for a moment. Asmo broke it first.

“Do you know what today is?”

You nodded, of course you knew. It was all the brothers were talking about for the past week.

“Your birthday. Ofcourse I know your birthday, Asmo.”

He felt his heart beat grow quicker. You knowing his birthday was something that made him happy, remembering it sent him over the moon. He took your hand and brought it to his cheek. He nuzzled into it with a content smile. All he wanted for his birthday was an uninterrupted day from his brothers with you.

“Mhm! So today, I want to spend it all with you!”

You blushed a bit, and Asmo noticed.

“Why with me? Wouldn’t you want to spend it with your brothers?”

Asmo shook his head, causing his soft champagne hair to sway slightly. You looked so confused as to what he wanted, which Asmo thought was cute but also annoying since he only wanted you to notice what he desired most.

“I spend every birthday with them, it gets boring after a while. But you’re not boring, you’re extravagant! So I want to spend my special day with someone just as special.”

Your face became red so quick. It seemed to amuse Asmo since his smile only grew. That was when he enveloped his arms around your form. He rubbed his cheek against your s/c one.

He loved how warm your touch always felt, even when you felt cold. To him even holding your hand was a warm feeling. It was so odd for him to desire a human’s attention so much.

“Well, what do you wish to do with me for your birthday?”

Asmo pretended to think hard about your question. The truth is he already had a whole list of places he wanted to take you from the moment he became so attached to you.

However the reason he hadn’t yet was due to his brothers occupying all of your time and robbing him of all your attention. He took your hand and quickly took you out of the House of Lamentation as a way to prevent any of his brothers from trying to find you.

“I want to take you to some special places with me!”

You looked at him then down to yourself. You felt a bit insecure since you weren’t really dressed for an outing like this. You looked away from Asmo shyly, and he seemed to notice this. Nothing went unnoticed by Asmo when it came to you.

“What’s wrong Y/n?”

You look up to him picking up his voice. You gave him a small smile with your eyes slowly gazing up to his.

“I don’t think I’m dressed for a date.”

You gently giggle and this sent Asmo into a cuteness overload. Anything you did around him sent him in that state.

“Let’s go get you something nice then! How about a matching outfit with me?”

You shook your head. You’d feel guilty making him buy you an outfit on his birthday. It should be the other way around.

“I can just run inside and-”

Before you can even reject his offer, Asmo pulled you to a clothing store he really wanted to take you. Turns out this was part of his plan of spending time with you so it just happened to work out. Of course he isn’t going to let you know this.

Spoiling you was one of the many things he wanted to do with you today. After a slow walk to the clothing store, Asmo had pulled you in before you could hesitate. He dressed you up and picked out outfits he thought would flatter you the most.

And color schemes that would suit the two of you. He wanted everyone around you to think the two of you were a couple, which wasn’t the truth. Well not yet. Asmo wanted to help you try things on and join you in the dressing room but you were so opposed to it. He didn’t understand why you didn’t want him to help you. He gave you a pout.

“Why won’t you let me help you get dressed Y/n?”

You just blushed deeply. Did he not understand why? It was a bit cute you had to admit. Asmo was always attached to you, no matter where you went Asmo followed. It was as if Asmo was your puppy on a leash and you were his owner.

“B-Because it’s embarrassing.”

Asmo giggled. He’s helped you change back at the house, so what made it so different here. Even if it was rare for you to accept his help, it still happened. He loved how embarrassed you looked when he saw you half naked.

“But I’ve helped you change before!~”

You blushed even more. Asmo held you close to him.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about!”

You tried to understand why Asmo wanted to help you change. Especially in a public area. Sure there would be privacy in the changing room, but it still felt embarrassing.

“I-if you want to be the first to see me, you’re the only one here.”

Asmo pouted, that was half of the reason he wanted to join you in the changing room. But the other half was wanting to be with you privately. To just be with you and no one there to interrupt or cause a scene to drive your attention off of him.

But of course he got so lost in his thoughts and fantasies that it gave you enough time to change and come out. He was shocked. You looked stunning.

“You look amazing Y/n-chan!”

Asmo enveloped you into another hug, nuzzling your cheek. You shied away from him, feeling a bit embarrassed. He noticed this, and took your chin in his gentle hands. Asmo guided you to look at him, and you couldn’t refuse it.

“Do you not like it?”

You were startled by the question. Of course you liked it! Asmo picked it out just for you, you were just shy about how you looked in it. "I love it! It's just.. Well.. I don't think it looks good on me."

Asmo was shocked. He made it his job to not only look after you and help you keep a good routine to take care of yourself but he was also there to shut down any insecurities you had.

"Oh darling! How could you say that about yourself! You look stunning! Here let me change into my outfit and then we can pay!"

Not even a moment was wasted and he was out in 2 minutes. The two of you stared at yourselves in the mirror. Asmo was admiring how you both looked so cute in the matching ensemble but you were so focused on him. His enchanting looks, it captivated you.

Asmo took your hand and paid for the clothing. After that he took you out of the store and walked you around the plaza of all the stores that surrounded you.

“Where do you want to go next?”

Asmo only looked at you. He didn’t want to spoil any part of the surprises he had set up. Even if it was his own birthday, he planned it all. He only left you in confusion and suspense as he guided you to a club he goes to often.

So often to the point where he's friends with the owner. Asmo had set up a private room for the two of you, but of course that was only if the two of you needed an escape from everyone else. After a couple of drinks between you two at the bar, with people occasionally taking looks at the two of you. Some were eyes of admiration and others were of jealousy.

Sometimes small crowds of demons alike came to try and buy Asmo a drink. Of course he ignored them all. Only ever keeping his eyes on you. His smile was only for you, and not one full of the lies that he carried whenever he seduced someone.

He was always genuine with you. Never once would he ever lie to you, unless it was for your benefit. About an hour later of dancing, singing and drinking all you could the whole club burst into song. They were singing Happy Birthday to Asmo while he held you close. The club brought out an extravagant drink with sparklers in it.

He offered to drink it with you, much to some people's dismay. You nodded shyly as the two of you took different straws and just gazed at each other. Even with others watching, this moment felt so intimate to him. This is what he truly wanted for his birthday. After the two of you finished the drink, both of you were quite tipsy.

Well you were a bit more wasted than Asmo, since a human can only take so much alcohol. He guided you to the private room, giggling every time you tumbled about. Once he had closed the door Asmo was met with your slight drunken gaze.

He couldn't help but stare back. His lust was growing in his gaze and you noticed. You slowly walked up to him. He was enchanted by your movements. How could he not be?

You were his favorite thing in the whole world. He always craved your touch, the caressing of his face, the taste of your lips on his. That was when everything in that room lit up. You took his face in your hands and grazed your lips against his sloppily.

He was in utter bliss. This was the only birthday gift Asmo wanted. He wanted your love, your love all for him. As greedy as it sounded, it was all he wanted. He cupped your face and kissed you back. He graced you with many kisses adorned all over your face. Then he stopped at your lips.

Asmo saw the tint of pink dusted all over your cheeks and a bit on your nose. It was a mix from being flustered as well as being tipsy. You closed the gap impatiently, capturing his lips in your own. You kissed him deeply, neither of you parting from it until it was necessary.

The gasps of air only made Asmo think that you were even hotter than before. He had never seen you this needy for his attention, for his love. He cupped your face again, but began to make out with you. Tilting his head to capture your whole being in his.

He held you close, never taking a moment to rest. He wanted this, for as long as he could remember. Each time you gasped for air, it sent Asmo to the moon. He loved this, he loved you. He loved how soft your lips felt on his, how warm your mouth was.

He traced his tongue on your teeth, then your own tongue. Both of them locked together as if they were having their own dance. Asmo had set you down on his lap, not taking a break from the heated moment you two were having. His arms wrapped around your neck, bringing his face close to your collarbone.

Asmo slowly traced down your neck, each kiss leaving a mark from his lipstick. He stopped at your neck, his warm breath causing goosebumps to rise from your skin. He slowly brought his lips to your s/c skin.

He loved the very taste of you, and how you felt on his tongue. He slowly sucked on your neck, causing the skin to become darker. He scattered hickeys all over your neck, this was his way to mark his birthday present.

The make out session lasted for about 30 minutes. You started to feel drowsy, leaning into Asmo’s chest. He savored how you trusted him enough to sleep on him. He wrapped his hands around you as you fell asleep. The last thing you heard was his voice as he gently whispered.

“I love you Y/n.”

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Sorry this is late! I still have to do silvers birthday story.

#obey me x male reader #asmodeus birthday #asmodeus x male reader #obey me asmodeus #swd asmodeus #x male reader

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asmotheavatarofhorny · 2 years ago

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Chapter 1: And A Very Happy Birthday To You

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Wish Upon A Star is an Obey Me series where the player, AKA Yuki, is transported into the world of Obey Me on their 18th birthday.

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⚠️Warnings:

• OC (they’re very heavily based on MC with some creative liberties taken on my part, I just couldn’t bare to make an entire series using you/your pronouns, sorry)

• They/Them pronouns, no mention of physical gender/privates lmao

• Mentions of main character being 18

• Bad parental figures

• Isekai AU

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A/N: Hayy~ Idk what came over me but I suddenly had motivation after months of not having a single drop… Anyways, I’ve been working on birthday content for Asmo and will be posting several things for my darling tmrrw<3 Also, do you like the banner I made for this series? Idk if it’s bad or not, but I like it, so that must count for something, right? (⁎⁍̴̆Ɛ⁍̴̆⁎)

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The young teen sat at their kitchen counter, smiling softly as they listened to their favorite characters sing their praises and happy birthday wishes. ‘Finally,’ they thought as they stuck a single candle into their chocolate cupcake with bright blue frosting. It wasn’t a fancy cupcake, just one they had bought for a few dollars from a local convenience store, but it meant the world.

Tonight, at exactly 12:00 AM, Yuki would blow out the candle and wish themselves a happy 18th birthday.

Today was the day Yuki would finally be rid of it all. They would finally be able to move out of the dump they called a home, or rather, their mother called a home. Yuki’s mother had never really been with them. They lived together sure, but they rarely saw each other. Yuki’s mother was unemployed and partied all night long on most nights. She depended solely on Yuki’s meager earnings from their job as a cashier at Burger Queen.

Yuki sighed and turned towards their phone, the dim light and soft music coming from the speakers brought a wave of comfort over them, pulling them back from their thoughts.

They glanced at the time quickly before lighting their candle and blowing it out, their light breath a soft whisper of hope amidst the ashes of heart break and betrayal the world Yuki lived in was littered with.

“I wish that I had a harem of demons, just like in Obey Me,” Yuki muttered under their breath, a sigh that was intended to be a small laugh but ended up coming out as a dejected moan escaping their lips.

In an act of desperation, Yuki pushed themself up and off of the barstool they were planted on, cupcake in tow, before unceremoniously tossing it into the open lidded trash can. ‘There goes my hopes and dreams,’ Yuki thought to themself before grabbing their device and trudging back to their room.

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“Lucifer,” a voice muttered, echoing through the large chamber where they stood.

“Hm,” the silver haired man hummed in acknowledgement.

“It’s their birthday today,” rang out the voice.

“I’m aware.”

A short silence overtook the two before Lucifer spoke again, “You don’t think this will be overwhelming for them, Diavolo?”

Lucifer heard a chuckle from the red haired demon, followed by the tapping of footsteps on the hard tile. “Worried about them, are you?” He asked, “How very unlike the Avatar of Pride.”

Lucifer hummed yet again, his voice bounced off the large hall in a low purr, “Humans are fickle creatures. I wouldn’t want to send them into shock,” he said bluntly.

“Of course. You’re not the only one who cares for them, you know?”

“Yes, I know.”

Diavolo smirked and placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder before looking out onto the lake from the window they were stood in front of. “They say that a star falls every time a human makes a wish,” he started, and a bright light shot across the sky, illuminating the water and causing ripples to shine within it. It was so bright it could almost serve as the Devildom’s own personal sun. “The brighter it is, the stronger the human’s desire.”

Lucifer thought for a moment before turning to lock eyes with the red haired demon, “Why are you saying this?”

“Because that star was Yuki’s.”

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Yuki plopped down on their bed, their head resting briskly onto their pillow. They opened their phone yet again and were met with the soft purr of their favorite boy’s voice as the game loaded, and they let out a sigh of relief. The corners of their lips curled up into a smirk before they let themselves close their eyes.

Listening to the title music always made them so sleepy… And Lucifer’s voice certainly wasn’t helping. They held their phone to their chest, letting the soft tune lull them to sleep.

Beep Beep Beep

Yuki woke up with a start as their alarm blared right in their face. They quickly moved to shut it up, wiping the stream of stray drool from their chin before checking the time: 7:50 AM. Oh shit. They were late to school! Yuki jumped out of bed, scrambling to find some clothes to wear. They settled on a comfy oversized shirt and some baggy sweat pants. They really didn’t feel like dressing up today… Not that they ever did.

Yuki noted the bus pulling up at the stop across the road before they grabbed for their favorite ring, picked up their bag, and made off for the door.

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“Mammon! Get up dumbass, we’re gonna be late!” Shouted an exasperated sloth who always hitched a ride with his older brother since he was unable to take a drivers test for himself since he fell asleep every time, along with a certain glutton that rode with them as-well because Mammon never failed to have snacks nestled in between the seat cushions of his car.

“Okay, okay!” Mammon shouted through the loud pounding on his door. He picked up his DDD, glancing at the time: 7:50 AM. Shit.

Mammon scrambled to throw his uniform on, grumbling angrily as he struggled to get all the complicated buttons and straps settled comfortably on his body before he grabbed his bag and headed out the door.

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Yuki sighed as they sat down on the bus, close to the front so they didn’t have to deal with anyone unsavory. They always liked to grind Obey Me in the mornings, and it was hard when they had other people making fun of them for playing a silly dating game.

They tapped the screen idly, grinning at Lucifer’s grumbles about ‘not being a morning demon.’

They dragged an apple from the gift menu to give him, mirroring his soft smile upon receiving the treat.

“Hey, mind if I sit here?”

Yuki could feel a migraine coming on from the question. They really didn’t have the energy for this today.

“Uh, sure,” they answered, picking their bag up off the seat next to them and placing it on the floor before glancing back at their screen at the blushing Lucifer eagerly awaiting more pets and gifts. Yuki heard the shuffle of the other person sitting next to them, and they could feel unease plague their emotions as they felt themself being stared at.

“So, Lucifer’s your favorite?” The voice asked, effectively pulling Yuki out of their trance. Their eyes stayed fixed on Lucifer as the surprise guest ended, and they watched the screen fade back into the game’s Home Screen.

“Oh, uhm. I guess you could say that,” they answered, “I didn’t know anyone who went to this school played Obey Me.”

“Ah, my apologies. I don’t actually play the game myself, I just happen to know Lucifer personally.”

Yuki looked up, flabbergasted at the strange response. They locked eyes with the person and studied his brown eyes. That with his pale skin and white hair, mixed with the black vest and undershirt with a cream colored jacket to top everything off.

“Woah,” they muttered, almost inaudibly. “So you don’t play the game, and yet you’re still a cosplayer?” They remarked skeptically.

“Cosplayer? Oh, this,” the all too obvious Solomon ‘cosplayer’ hummed. “I hate to break it to you, but this isn’t a cosplay,” He grinned mischievously.

“Sure, sure. Man, you even have the poses down,” Yuki said, completely in awe of the detail on the ‘costume.’

Solomon glanced at his hand that Yuki was staring at which was in the air in a wave.

“Whenever Sol does that pose in game, I always think he wants a high-five,” Yuki giggled, looking back fondly on the memories of tapping Solomon’s hand lovingly.

“Sol? What a cute nickname. I have to say I’m honored to receive one from you, Yuki,” Solomon said with a smile.

“…Huh?” Yuki blinked at him before glancing outside of the bus for a moment, attempting to make sense of this situation. “Sorry, how do you know my name?”

Solomon chuckled lightly before answering, “It’s merely something I picked up in passing.”

“Oh. Okay…?” Yuki looked down at their phone screen again, noting Lucifer’s pouty face. ‘Are you neglecting me on purpose so I’ll pine for you?’ It read, and Yuki immediately felt bad for leaving him for so long. They tapped his shoulder softly and his pout turned into his normal resting face as he prattled on about Diavolo. ‘Typical,’ they thought.

“He’s rather cute on the little screen like that,” Solomon noted, “He looks so vulnerable standing there.”

‘Oh right, this guy’s still here,’ Yuki thought annoyedly.

“Mind if I tap him?” The sorcerer asked with a grin. Truth be told, Yuki didn’t really like other people to touch their stuff, but it was just one tap, right?

“Oh, uh.. Sure?” They answered.

Solomon reached over and lightly poked Lucifer on the shoulder, just as Yuki had done earlier.

Just as he had done that Lucifer’s head fell and his eyebrows furrowed, as he prattled on about how untrustworthy Solomon is.

Yuki held in a laugh at the message, glancing over at Solomon to see his reaction.

Classically, he looked rather taken aback, unsure what to think about it.

“Seems he isn’t very fond of you, huh?” Yuki laughed, and Solomon merely glared playfully at the teen.

‘Maybe this guy isn’t so bad after all…?’

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Previous / Next Chapter

#help I’m bored lol #I’m in love with obey me isekais rn i stg #sigh…#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me series #obey me isekai #obey me fic #wish upon a star #pls give feedback #idk where im going with this #send help #btw I went with Yuki for a name bc MC is giving too much Y/N vibes for my taste #and also it’s the default name for MC #idfk I just liked it lol #anyways #asmotheavatarofhornytm

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what-big-teeth · 2 years ago

Text

Avatar of Lust (Asmodeus)

Monsterlover!MC is gender neutral.

[ Part 1 (intro) ; Part 2 (Lucifer) ; Part 3 (Mammon) ; Part 4 (Leviathan) ; Part 5 (Satan) ]

Please note this is an 18+ blog; do not follow if you’re younger than 18.

Living a normal life as a human had its ups and downs, stress included. So suddenly being spirited away to the Devildom as an exchange student didn’t help your stress levels. At all.

Lucifer as the eldest tried to use strict rules to help you adjust with mixed results. Mammon, the chaotic greed-driven demon he is, wasn’t much help although he tried. Levi…was Levi, but adopting the hermetic lifestyle wasn’t doable. Books and cats could only do so much in the face of uncertainty (sorry Satan). And your body could only handle so much sleep and food at a time, unlike the twins.

Without a solution, your sleep schedule suffered and the issue started to chip away at your grades. Before you could even think of how to phrase your apology to Lucifer, he suddenly stopped you in the hallway of the massive House of Lamentation one night.

“It seems your relocation to the Devildom is affecting your ability to concentrate. An…oversight…which Lord Diavolo has not yet noticed.”

(You silently wondered how much it pained him to admit that.)

“After my brothers offered their suggestions, I decided one of them may be able to help.” And that’s how the routine of visiting Asmo before bedtime started.

Face creams, skin scrubs, moisturizing masks; the number of beauty products Asmo gushed about made your head spin.

But once he and you were able to settle onto a simple yet effective nighttime routine, it became a comfort. It was something you looked forward to, a process you controlled. And you’d be lying if the gentle scents of camomile, lavender, and ylang-ylang didn’t calm you.

So every night, without fail, you’d knock on Asmo’s bedroom door and be whisked inside for a mini pampering session before bedtime. And at the end, Asmo would provide a platonic “good night” cuddle.

But tonight, his door remained firmly closed after you knocked.

“Asmo? Are you there?” When you received no response, you pressed your ear against the white, lacquered door.

The sound from inside was faint and watery. Yet unmistakable. The sharp hiss afterward cut you to the core. “Asmo, are you alright? Have you been crying?”

A sniffle. “Oh, hello darling.” His muffled voice, devoid of its usual playfulness, barely reached your ears. “I was certain that silence charm would work, but…”

But you both knew demonic magic didn’t affect you normally like other humans.

“Asmo, are you hurt? Did something happen last night at the Fall?”

No lower-ranking demon could ever measure up to the fifth lord of hell. But as you soon came to learn, because of your humanity and soul, they’d still try. Even die in the attempt. If only for a chance to get at you.

“C-can you let me in?” The growing knot in your throat grew tighter, heavier. “I need to make sure you’re alright.”

“…You always worry about others instead of yourself. That isn’t good for your health or your skin, dear.”

You giggled at his gentle chiding, your ears making out a light sigh from him and a sharp click. The door’s lock. “You can come inside…but I don’t expect you to stay.”

You turned the knob without hesitation and went in. A heavy humidity slammed into your face, dampening your skin and pajamas. A quick glance confirmed his massive tub was filled to the brim with steaming, scented water. Chamomile to be exact. You ignored the stickiness clinging to your skin.

Asmo sat in his massive bed, horns present with his perfect skin blotchy and his eyes rimmed with red. The sight almost drew your attention from the chelicerae framing his lips. His arms and torso were bare, leaving his large, bat-like wings visible but his lower half…

A pair of large, pink grasping pincers protruded from his hips. Eight, long legs of the same color rested at his side as a segmented tail tipped with a black stinger lay flat and curled behind him.

The gradation of color from his scorpion half to his human torso blended perfectly in a seamless, gorgeous way. While you tried to notice more, a sharp hiss diverted your attention. You reached out, hands at the ready. He gently took yours in his, being careful of his black claws.

“You’re not scared? Careful, darling, or you’ll make me swoon~! But then, that wouldn’t be so bad—!”

Asmo hissed, his body tensing. The keratin of his left pincer had cracked without warning. But his hold on you remained impossibly gentle.

“But maybe not now,” he eked out with a strained smile.

“What can I do to help?”

Asmo’s flushed face deepened as his mouth opened and closed a few times. As cute as he was speechless, you tucked the sight away for another time.

“I’m just molting, darling, nothing serious. I should be done in about four hours or so.”

“But it hurts, right?” You gently squeezed his hands, claws be damned. “Have your brothers helped you before? Stayed with you?”

The fifth born took in your words, what you hoped he saw as want in your expression. His chelicerae clicked softly as he glanced away.

“They haven’t. I never wanted anyone to see me…”

“Not looking like ‘The Jewel of the Heavens’?” That was two times you’ve left Asmo speechless; a new personal record. You giggled, moving your hands to cup his face.

“Oh Asmo, everyone has their off days. Some more than others.” You tilted your head a little to the side to refer to yourself, feeling glad when he caught on. “You’ve been there for me when I needed help getting used to the Devildom. So let me be here for you, if you’re okay with that.”

His features wavered and nearly crumpled altogether, but he steadied himself by placing his hands onto yours. Then he truly smiled.

“You should be careful, dear. I may find a way to keep you here all to myself.”

“Knowing Lucifer, he’d find out sooner than later and have a fit,” you said, rolling your eyes. “So you’d better make the most of these next few hours, Romeo.”

Three for three; you were on a roll! And was that a light blush, too? Happy to have the last word during your banter, you grinned at the fifth born. “So, what can I do to help?”

The molting process, as you learned, left Asmo drained of energy. This affected his other bodily sensations like hunger and thirst, making them non-existent. The only thing he needed now was constant warmth, humidity, and time (“and you as well, darling~”).

So you took up the responsibility of ensuring he was comfortable. That the bathtub was filled and scented perfectly, that the temperature in his room was just right. There were a few moments where he’d quietly inch his hand towards your, which you gently took. And every time, he’d glance away with a little smile.

Four hours later, the process was done. With a new softened shell that had yet to harden, Asmo could barely keep his eyes open or his head from drooping. Knowing how keen he was to stick to his skincare routine, you stepped into his bathroom and gathered everything you needed.

You weren’t surprised when he drifted to sleep during the process, reclined against a huge mountain of plush, soft pillows at his back. And with his face cleaned and his skin moisturized, he looked much healthier. Thank goodness.

Not wanting to disturb his rest, you started scooting off his bed. But a soft touch to the back of your hand stopped you.

“Stay? Please?”

Those shy words were more than enough to convince you. With your hands still joined, that’s how you ended up spending the night in Asmo’s room.

Which he was all too happy to croon about the next day.

The tension during Saturday’s breakfast steadily built to a crescendo as Asmo fawned over you and sat as close as possible. He nuzzled his dewy cheek against yours with bright, almost lovestruck eyes.

“…And the dear didn’t want to leave my side! They had to tend to their own needs a few times, of course, but they came rushing back immediately after! My own personal knight-in-shining armor!”

Even Beel was losing steam while chewing his food. He looked ill. With a familiar twinkle in his eyes, Asmo looped his arms around your shoulders with a coquettish smile.

“Well,” he said, “my knight in very appealing nightwear.”

All hell broke loose.

The others began swearing up a storm, screeching about unfairness, chastising Asmo, all while Beel painfully swallowed his previous bite. Asmo deftly dodged the cow-printed pillow hurled at him with deadly precision. You were pretty sure Belphie would’ve used a chair instead if Lucifer weren’t present.

Still, the fifth born carried you away from the chaotic fray in his arms bridal-style, blocking your view and appearing oh so very pleased.

“I’m their first man! Me, ya hear?!” “Mammon, I will personally rip out your throat if you don’t shut up!” “Oh yeah? Try it you little—”

“Asmo, you bastard! …Why couldn’t it have been me?!” “...I can’t believe I’m not as hungry as before.” “You’d better sleep with one eye open from now on motherf—“

“THAT’S IT!” A defining crash, the splintering of wood. Then silence. From the sound of things, Satan got to use a dining room chair first.

“…Mammmooonnn…”

And missed his intended target.

You were certain the others would do what they could to learn more about last night. But you wouldn’t say anything; neither would Asmo.

And if he happened to hug you closer before unfurling his wings while you snuggled closer…

Well, that was between the two of you and nobody else.

#demon #demons #monster content #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me asmo #with our boy's symbol being a scorpion #I couldn't see him as anything other than a scorpion man/aqrabuamelu/girtablilu #anyway soft Asmo content!

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