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livelaughlovesubs · 4 months ago

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Dom!reader x sub!scarletella

Warning: fictional stuff - stimulation through a separate object (?), inspired by some fanarts (artists are amazing), teasing, degrading pet names

I’m seeing so many fanarts that have this implanted and I HAVE to do something about my horniness that’s holding me back from working so, as far as I understand, for mr. Scarlettela his real body is his umbrella or it’s at least connected to him - anyway, can’t believe I’m writing about homicipher bruh, I feel ashamed T^T

!!Spoiler warning!! This is not canon but has some elements from it

He is a good boy, he really is! Well, maybe not at all times, but he’s trying his best for you. And haven’t you seen just how much he loves and trusts you? He’s basically devoted to you! Like a faithful follower~ Handing the red umbrella he always carries over to you so easily, when he normally would never let anyone touch it, let alone give or lend it. It’s just proof of how much he likes you!

So why were you so mean and destroyed it? You like him, didn’t you know that his umbrella is connected to him? Why were you hurting him. He didn’t understand, he didn’t even know what to do. Because in the end, he still liked you.

Now this over 8 feet tall creature was kneeling in front of you, head lowered in confusion as he stared at the concrete floor. You were still holding the now broken umbrella, scoffing as you stared down at his rather pathetic form. It wasn’t entirely broken, just some bend metal and rough ends, or a little tear here and there. Yet for some reason his clothes were torn and disheveled, hands shaking slightly as he kept mumbling the words ‘I don’t understand’ or ‘I like you’ over and over again. At first he seemed intimidating, but now you didn’t have an ounce of fear left.

There must have been a connection between him and this umbrella. Instead of speculating, best just ask him.

Slowly you pointed the long object in your hand at him, the tip pushed below his chin as you made him look up at you. His round, almost completely dark eyes stared right at you, one side was covered by his crimson hair. There were tears steaming down his cheeks, he was crying, how unexpected. The two of you locked eyes for a few seconds, and you wondered what you should do about this crazed man.

While their language was hard to grasp at first, you were getting the hang of it by now. “This umbrella, is you?” The meaning of the question itself was unbelievable, but since this ghost realm exists, maybe your hypothesis wasn’t that out of place. “Yes. Me body.” Look at that, you were right. That explains why he suddenly got so sad. You groaned internally and pulled your arm back, using the umbrella as a cane instead.

As you were still thinking over your next step, his hands reached out to you hesitantly, and softly tugged at the ends of your coat. After stretching the fabric out a little, he leaned his forehead against it, mumbling almost inaudibly, “please don’t go, I like you.” You raised an eyebrow, the corners of your mouth subconsciously moving upwards as you snickered, “What?” His grip got a little tighter and his hand trembled from tensing his muscles so much, then he said a little louder, “I like you, don’t you like me?”

God you wanted to laugh, this was so sad it was laughable. How in the world did he come to that conclusion? In that moment, you had a lot to say t0 him, but due to the language barrier you couldn’t convey it really well. So you just talked to yourself, needing some time to vent.

“Oh you poor thing.” You chuckled in your own language, the one he didn’t understand. “What am I supposed to do with a perv like you?” He looked up at you again, wanting to ask what you said if not for your shoes that were pressing against his chest. “..what?” The person- or monster asked, but he didn’t resist your touch and leaned back, following your guidance. From earlier up to this point, he has been kneeling, just this time he was also using his arms behind his back to stabilise himself.

Without changing the almost arrogant look in your eyes, you used the gift he gave you to trace some imaginary lines on his body. The tip glided from his jawline to the tip of his chin, and you asked, “your name?” The heavy tension was something he also caught on, and he hesitated, not knowing to what this would lead. He shook his head, forcing out a “don’t know…”

You hummed slowly, showing you understood the message. Nonetheless, you continued to move the tip down his neckline all the way to his toned collarbones, “I’ll give you a name.” His eyes widened even more, it made him look objectively creepier, but you thought he looked like a dumb puppy. All big eyed, bearing a deep need and raw desire in his pupils. “How about,” then, just like drawing with a stick in the mud, you traced the word, “Scarlet,” over his chest, simultaneously voicing out the word.

He shuddered as the hard surface scribbles around his torso, squeezing his lips together while he tried to stay still for you. You weren’t being exactly gentle there. When you stopped to glance at him, he quickly nodded. That wasn’t the end to your little play yet, and you slid the pointy end across his abs and stomach, down to his thighs, making him spread them a little wider, “I gave you a name, so you’ll be my servant from now on. Understood?” This has been said in your language, but you hoped he’ll get the overall meaning.

Again he nodded. In his head, being your servant meant you liked him, right? Otherwise you wouldn’t keep him around! So how could he ever say no.

“Use your mouth.” You ordered, digging the tip into his flesh a little, and he answered shortly after, “I understand, me happy.” Sweat was forming on his forehead, and his previous crying ceased. Instead a faint taint of pink covered his cheeks, and he stared at you almost manically. “Good.” You said, which was basically a praise— right? —and he smiled, a shaky, breathless one.

A little behind you was a chair, and you dragged it closer to the still kneeling man below you. Even you were starting to get tired of standing, so you sat down in a comfortable position. “What now.” You said to yourself, not really paying him any attention anymore. It would be nice if you had a collar, would red or black look better on him? But your resources were limited, and you didn’t exactly have a lot of things with you as well. That’s when you absentmindedly thought over what you did own.

Besides that crowbar you’ve found down here, you really didn’t have a lot. Well, you also had a broken umbrella now— hold up, that’s right, you own him now. A rather sadistic thought came to mind, and you pondered to what limit you could control him with this red, unusual umbrella. Would he feel your presence when you just hold it? You got lost in your thoughts again, fumbling with the torn textile and the handle. This didn’t stop until a strange sound caught your attention.

Your eyes left the red batch of fabric in your hands, and instead wandered to the other red thing in the room. He crawled into a ball, arms folded in front of his body while his head pressed against the ground. It looked like he was in pain again, though you weren’t sure if these noises were whimpers of pain or pleasure. “You okay?” You eventually asked, and he whispered in a higher pitch, “me okay..!”

Once again your gaze returned to the umbrella. He must be in this state due to something you did, and so you tightened your grip around the handle while mindlessly drawing a line with your index finger on the panel. As expected, his shoulder jerked upwards even more, and he rolled more together, as if he wanted to take up as little space as possible. His entire body was twitching, also for some reason his coat was only hanging off his arms now.

“You are into it.” You commented, not even too shocked to learn this rather unnecessary fact. At least you can have your fill of fun with this. “What about this?” Suddenly you started moving your hand up and down the handle, rubbing the umbrella panel with the other hand. It was a truly humbling experience to do something implied sexual to a literal object, but your eyes were glued to the ghost before you, so you didn’t even notice how weird it must have looked.

And sure enough, there was a change in his behaviour, he got louder. Your smile widened involuntarily, and your pace also got quicker and rougher. Oh fucking hell, if he was really feeling that kind of sensations, you won’t be able to stop yourself. It was like you were hypnotised, concentrated on nothing but his expressions. On the different ways his face twisted into one of ecstasy.

A big, dark, lunatic grin, paired with fanatic eyes that were ripped wide open. Some hints of a scarlet blush covering his face while sweat rolled down his face. Those perverse sounds he made were proof of the probably internal pleasure he felt, and he quivered all over, still bend down on the floor. Now that you’ve got a better grasp of what was happening, you realized he was crawled together to hide something.

“Ngh, hgGnn- ah..! Please…♥︎～” he whined at your feet, drool dripping from the corners of his mouth and landing on the floor. You’ve been fumbling with the handle for some time, so you’ve gotten bored again and was curious about if the textile was a part of his being as well. Without a second thought, you simply stuck two fingers between the folds, and you were met with a heavily muffled moan.

“Arghhh-…MmmHFfffF～ ♡♡♥︎” Once he felt your touch, he bit into his own palm to quiet himself down. At some point he started crying again, glistening tears decorating his already ruined face. You didn’t think his reaction would be this good, this lewd, whatever you did, he must have liked it a lot. Which is why, despite the absurdity of your actions, you moved your fingers in and out of the holes or just randomly caressed whatever part you felt like touching.

Out of nowhere you felt something tugging at your coat again, it gave off a sense of Deja vu. Of course it was him, who was only pinching the corner of it with a shaky hand. His grip had lost any strength compared to before, and you couldn’t help but smile in satisfaction. “What?” You asked him, though you didn’t stop your administrations. He cried out when he opened his mouth to speak, breaking down in front of you, for your entertainment only.

“Haaaa-HnnGh… wait, p-please wait-!♡” Was he telling you it was too much? It’s making you want to overstimulated him even more. He was being so pathetic it was cute. Without wasting a single second, you went as fast as you could, blatantly ignoring his pleads. Based on your own observations, he must have been close, if he was similar to a real person. “Feels good?” You asked, to make sure he was alright. He didn’t reply again and only nodded all weakly, but you’ll let it slide this time.

He felt so hot and strange, it was a nice but unfamiliar feeling. Not only that, he felt something burning building up inside him and it was threatening to spill. That’s why he wanted you to slow down. Poor thing was confused, absolutely baffled what this warm feeling was. Is it love? It must be love. He loved you and you loved him after all. All in all it wasn’t a bad feeling, and since you seemed happy, he is too!

Another sudden wave of pleasure coursed through him, his eyes were clouded with lust and bliss, and the dirty whimpers that slipped past his lips got more erotic by the second. How desperate and lovesick he sounded, begging, pleading, squirming and trashing around on the spot. Thighs pressed together while his toes curled, back arched as a last moan ripped from his throat, “nnNgGHhh ♡♥︎ ♡～” Just as you predicted, that must have been his climax. Now’s the question, did he came in his pants? Did such things still have a reproductive system?

My my, it seems that is the case, whatever it was it seeped through the dark fabric of his trousers, causing an even darker spot to appear.

You only caught glimpses of it since he was hiding his own body so much, but you were content nevertheless. Since he was so obedient the entire time, you decided to be nice to him with the limited vocabulary you had. “Cute.” His kneeling figure was still shuddering and twitching, ragged gasps and pants were also coming from him. But for him, the only thing he could hear was your voice ringing and echoing in his mind, as well as the awfully loud beats of his own heart.

After all this time, you finally praised him! Well you did before but this time he was sure of it! And you found him cute! He was so happy he couldn’t stop grinning. That’s when you said, “do you want anything?” It was to kind of make up for making a fool out of him, or maybe for breaking his umbrella. He didn’t even think before quickly turning his head up, slurring out, “g-give me you name?” You blinked, that wouldn’t have been what you wished for but oh well. Right before you simply told him the answer you stopped yourself, and responded teasingly, “call me master.”

You weren’t sure if he knew the meaning behind it, but it didn’t matter. He had a blank look for a few seconds, mumbling to himself, most likely repeating that word a thousand times. While he did that, he let his head hang low again, facing the floor. His hair hid his face really well, and you couldn’t read his expression. “You alright?” You asked once the silence started to make you feel uneasy.

He placed both his hand on the floor and leaned down, until his face was hovering centimetres above your shoe, and he whispered eagerly, excessively so, “I’m happy, master. I love you.” Before kissing the tip of your shoe. You stared down in disbelief, a shiver running down your spine. He was more of a freak than you thought.

The moment he was done, you grabbed a fistful of his hair, proceeding to yank on it, making him face you on eye-level while he gasped in surprise. Your other hand clutched the umbrella more tightly, causing him to groan slightly. “Stupid dog.” You chuckled with a sinister smile spread across your face, watching as hearts appeared in the middle of his pupils.

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bomber-grl · 5 months ago

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Main 6 - Cuddle Headcanons

PAIRING(S): Asra Alnazar x Gn!Reader, Julian Devorak x Gn!Reader, Nadia Satrinava x Gn!Reader, Muriel x Gn!Reader, Portia x Gn!Reader, Lucio x Gn!Reader

Cuddling positions are practically never ending with Asra. They love to just be close to you and doesn’t have much of a preference.

However, there are some cuddle positions that are preferred after a long day of existing.

One of them is him laying on your chest. Usually this is your way of helping them unwind, especially when you massage his scalp and play with his hair.

Other than that, just hearing your heartbeat and feeling the rise and fall of your chest comforts them, even after all that’s happened.

Then there’s the time when he just wants to show you that he loves you.

This usually prompts them to start kissing you all over your face and you end up falling into his arms, all bundled up by the warm blankets.

Honestly overall, they just love to cuddle in bed with you and whatever position you two end up laying in

Even if it isn’t always the same position you wake up in

Also bonus points if you end up letting Faust cuddle up with you two, she does get cold sometimes yknow

Which she most likely always does end up doing

In Nadia’s route, it’s noted that there is only once bed in the shop so it’s likely Asra and you share it even when you’re not cuddling

So most times he’d fall asleep from exhaustion near you, with faust slithering on him

Probably hugs you around your waist too

And if you try to strike a “sexy” pose he’ll laugh and play along

The worst

Ofc he’s not actually the worst Lucio still exists but the way he cuddles at times is a hit or miss

Especially since most times he ends up sprawling his limbs out wherever they can, usually ending up on top of you unless you spoon him.

When it’s actually enjoyable to cuddle with him, most times he enjoys being spooned or mutual holding.

We all know how self deprecating he is so might as well show him how well he can be loved, even if you’re shorter or smaller, that’s no excuse

Just don’t mind his long limbs

Regardless of how you choose to hold him, he’ll always hold onto you back. Now on the other end of the spectrum where it’s damn near torture-

He has no regard for you- in his sleep at least

Like bro is genuinely squishing you with his limbs, and you can’t even move them because you’re trapped 💔

He probably unknowingly hogs the blanket too since he’s slipped off the bed more times than he’d like to admit and has taken the blanket with him.

He has all his weight on it, making damn near impossible to get the blanket from under him, leaving you shivering and timbering in the cold

If you’d prefer to be the one held then he’d be more than happy to 😭 just be prepared for him to be pretty flustered by being the one “in charge”

He does apologize to you when he wakes up if he’s been squishing you, etc etc though

Mother

She definitely one of the LI that are on the podium of best cuddlers. she holds you so warm and tight it’s honestly the best.

She is not the type to be all that physically affectionate, which is honestly a bummer because her hugs and cuddles are the best ever.

Often times at the end of an exhausting day as countess, she loves to spoil you and hold you in her arms.

She’s more than happy to massage your scalp or shoulders, even feeding you some fruit would be sufficient

Sleep wise, she’s as elegant as she is when she’s awake. Her hair is somehow perfect (must be the rose colored lenses talking-) and she’s not a blanket hogger of any kind

She’s really considerate even in her sleep and she’ll randomly wake up in the middle of the night and look for you

If you’re not covered by the blanket, she’ll tuck you in and go back to bed.

Either that or she’ll also hold you in her arms depending on if she believes that you want your space.

Now, if you’re more a sprawler, always falling off the bed, or just not that pretty of a sleeper she find it super endearing

She’ll literally get up from her cozy place on the bed to help you back up. Even going as far as carrying you if that’s what would be more comfortable.

Now, we all know Nadia prefers to be the one “in charge” she prefers to pamper and that’s alright.

But, if you prefer to also show her your affection that same way she’ll be more than happy to oblige- although it’ll be done with a blush.

When cuddling Muriel is super gentle and is hyper aware because of his larger stature, making him scared at the possibility of hurting you.

Which, you have to reassure him would never happen because you’d be happy to be crushed by him

With your constant reassurance and how often you tend to flop yourself on top of him, he eventually just gets used to it.

Cuddle wise, he’s usually big spoon for obvious reasons, he’ll hold you against his chest too along with Inanna being sandwiched by you both.

Again, you tend to be the one laying on him and when he chooses to sleep on his back, you’re laying on his chest and just absorbing his warmth.

I think it’d be obvious, but Muriel would also enjoy being held aswell. When you confront him with the idea he’s flustered because not only has he never considered it but he’s so touch starved.

If you have him lay his head on your chest, being held in your arms or even go as far as have him be little spoon, well his blush is out of this world.

If anything, he’s just happy that you’d want him to feel loved, as if you being around him isn’t enough

It isn’t

He’s basically beet red and he just accepts the affection ,laying there with you because again, he loves it.

Whenever/ if he tries to argue and say that he’s too big or whatever just say that you want him 🔛🔝 of you and just watch him squirm and get so flustered that he forgets

He ends up inevitably bringing it up again, so just cuddle the man

Sleep wise, Muriel is also really considerate. He tries not to take as much space and if you end up subconsciously tugging a blanket that he’s on, he’ll immediately move to give it to you.

Treat him well.

Yes, yes, yes, just yes

She’s the absolute best person to cuddle with, she’s such a cuddle bug and honestly neither of you guys have a preference most times and so it ends in just cuddling however.

Most times it’s either of you on the others chest. Mostly it’s Portia that enjoys having you rest on her and she enjoys playing with your hair or just massaging your scalp.

She’s more than happy to be the big spoon if that’s what you prefer, maybe she’d even tease you for being so “bold” as to ask.

Ironic considering that the instant that you insist on coddling her she’s flushed from head to toe.

Literally almost literally every time you two cuddle she’ll always put a leg over you.

Just a quirk of hers that you’ve noticed and a definite plus is how warm she is which causes you to cling to her.

Which definitely warrants some teasing for clinging onto her like some koala. She finds it endearing though and is definitely worth is since she ends up peppering kisses all over your face

Is it really cuddling with Portia if you exclude Pepi? No, no it’s not

Pepi is so cute!! It’s a well known fact and she’ll always end up crawling and making her way through the bundle of blankets to rest her little self in between you and Portia.

Sleep wise, Portia is also a hit or miss 😭

She’ll either cling to you in her sleep while also being considerate so it’s not bothersome

Or she’ll sleep lazily and drool a bit, causing her to be a bit embarrassed once she finally wakes up.

The worst motherfucker to cuddle with, EVER (up to interpretation whether it’s said with love)

Not likely)

Like he sleeps in either of two ways and neither of them are necessarily the best.

The first way is him being all lovey dovey and cuddly with you while the second one makes you wish death (again) upon him.

The first one is admittedly really nice. He’s in your arms and just being the needy, clingy bastard we all know Lucio to be.

It’s not so nice because of how this doesn’t change even during the summer time. You’ll definitely end up getting a heatstroke because of him clinging onto you one day.

That’s just the first way though.

The second way is him being sprawled out all over you without a care in the world.

His limbs are so freaking heavy too, it’s not like you could escape even if you desperately wanted to.

Worst part? He steals the fucking blanket all the time

Literally refuses to let go of his weirdly tight grip on the blanket in his sleep, leaving you shivering and timbering all night.

And then he has the audacity of getting mad at you for pushing him off the bed.

Smh

That’s all i have on this fucker

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puff0o0 · 4 months ago

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Mr Crawling after the blissful love life ending

He can't get work, anyone who sees him will scream and run away so, ultimately, he becomes a house husband! Cleaning everywhere that needs cleaning while you're away, the house always looks so spotless! ...If only he could cook as well.

He tries, but most of the time it ends up burnt. He always eats it, but he understands if you won't. He will be a little sad though 💔

If you can't cook either, then cookout is usually the last resort for both of you

His favorite time of the day is when you come home, he's already at the door waiting for you. It's the only time you ever see him stand, he immediately wraps his arms around you and hugs you close. How could he not?? he waited all day!

He is high maintenance when it comes to attention, so expect to give him all of your love, especially your kisses. He always returns the favor though, so don't worry!

#Mr crawling x reader #Mr Crawling x reader #mr crawling x reader #Mr Crawling x you #Mr crawling x you #mr crawling x you #Homicipher #homicipher #Gn reader #gn reader #Mc #Homicipher x reader #homicipher x reader #Mr crawling x Mc #Mr Crawling x Mc #mr crawling x Mc #mr crawling x mc #Mr crawling x mc #Mr Crawling x mc

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random-twst-things · 6 months ago

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*Napping somewhere in the botanical garden*

Mc/Y/N/Yuu: Hey, I had a dream about you last night

Leona: Really?

Mc/Y/N/Yuu: Yep

Leona: What was I wearing?

Mc/Y/N/Yuu, shrugging: Nothing

Leona: I was butt ass naked in your dream? 🤨

Leona: you've never even seen my butt ass naked, how'd you- you better not be influenced by Rook

Mc/Y/N/Yuu: No, I mean like nothing special

Leona: ...

Mc/Y/N/Yuu, looking at him up and down (especially his Jesus sandals): you lack drip expeditiously my guy 😐

Leona: As if you're any better with those rags

Mc/Y/N/Yuu: Yea, but here's the thing, these are school uniform hand-me-downs, and I'm poor. You're royalty and rich, yet you still choose to look the way you do? 🤨

Leona, frowning: ...Go back to sleep

Dividers from/by: @/cafekitsune

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my-names-angel-but-im-not-one · 8 months ago

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Mc: at the end of the day , we're just human beans

Solomon: and together we shall rice

Mc: lettuce pray

Solomon: Ramen.

Satan: ....

Satan: what language are you two speaking?

#obey me shall we date #obey me short fic #obey me gn!reader #obey me leviathan #obey me barbatos #obey me mammon #obey me mc #obey me #obey me incorrect quotes #obey me lucifer #obey me satan #obey me solomon #obey me memes

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hyuniemyunie · 24 days ago

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Beneath the Masks

obey me boys x gn!reader

sfw

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

(ФωФ): reverse comfort.

is the fandom dead cuz😭😭😭 I MISS THESE BOYS SO MUCHHHH UGHHH. whos ur fav cuz i cant choose between mammon and asmo..(its mammon)

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･

The Weight of the Crown

The House of Lamentation was unnervingly still.

Normally, Lucifer’s presence was a constant force—measured footsteps in the hall, the quiet rustle of papers in his study, the occasional exasperated sigh whenever Mammon did something idiotic (again). But tonight, the silence felt heavy, pressing down on the walls like a storm waiting to break.

You found him at his desk, as expected, but something was wrong.

His usually pristine posture was absent—he was hunched over, elbows on the desk, head resting in one hand. The other gripped a glass of Demonus, but he hadn’t even taken a sip. His brows were furrowed, his eyes shadowed with exhaustion. The candlelight flickered against the sharp angles of his face, making the tired lines around his eyes more pronounced.

Lucifer was rarely unguarded. Even in moments of quiet, he held himself like a statue carved from obsidian—elegant, untouchable. But right now?

Right now, he looked tired.

"Lucifer."

He didn’t react immediately, only inhaling sharply through his nose before straightening, his usual mask slipping back into place as if it had never cracked.

"You should be in bed." His voice was smooth, steady. But there was something strained beneath it.

"So should you." You stepped closer, resting a hand on his shoulder. He tensed—just for a second—before exhaling and leaning ever so slightly into your touch.

"There’s still work to be done."

"Lucifer." Your fingers brushed against the back of his neck, gentle. "You say that every night."

His silence spoke louder than any excuse.

Carefully, you reached down and took the glass from his hand, setting it aside. He didn’t resist, just watched you with those sharp crimson eyes, searching.

"What happened?" you asked softly.

He sighed, tilting his head back slightly. The shadows under his eyes were deeper than usual.

"Diavolo has entrusted me with another task. A delicate one. And my brothers…" He pinched the bridge of his nose. "…continue to be themselves."

You almost smiled. Almost. But the weariness in his voice was enough to keep your expression soft.

"You don’t have to do everything alone, you know."

"Yes, I do." His answer was immediate.

"No, you don’t," you countered, shifting to kneel beside his chair so you could look up at him properly.

Lucifer’s gaze flickered.

"Who else will?"

That was the heart of it, wasn’t it?

For thousands of years, Lucifer had been the protector. The eldest. The one who took the fall, who bore the punishment, who carried every burden so his brothers wouldn’t have to. It was ingrained into him, a duty written into his very bones.

But even the strongest pillars cracked under too much weight.

"You don’t trust anyone else to help." Your voice was gentle, not accusing, just understanding.

Lucifer sighed again, closing his eyes. "It is not a matter of trust. It is simply reality."

You hesitated before reaching out, taking his hand in yours. His fingers were tense, cold from exhaustion, but he didn’t pull away.

"Then let me be part of that reality."

His eyes opened, startled. You squeezed his hand.

"You carry so much, Lucifer. Too much. You hold up the Devildom, the House of Lamentation, your brothers. But who holds you?"

Lucifer didn’t answer. He just stared at you, something unreadable in his expression.

"Let me be that person," you whispered. "Even just for tonight."

Something in him broke.

Not in a dramatic way. Not in some grand display of emotion. But in the way his shoulders slumped just a little, in the way his fingers slowly curled around yours, gripping you like a lifeline.

"You are too good to me," he murmured.

"You deserve it," you countered.

Lucifer exhaled, a slow release of tension, and for once, he let you guide him. You tugged him gently up from his chair, leading him away from his desk. He hesitated, casting one last glance at his unfinished work, but ultimately followed as you pulled him toward his bed.

He sat at the edge, and you stood between his knees, running your fingers through his hair. He melted under your touch, leaning into it without resistance.

"Close your eyes," you murmured.

Lucifer obeyed.

For a long moment, you just stood there, combing your fingers through his dark locks, letting the weight of the day slip away from him. His breathing steadied, and the tension in his body slowly eased.

"Stay," he murmured, barely above a whisper.

"Always."

And that night, for once, Lucifer let himself rest.

Golden, Even in the Dark

The first sign that something was wrong was the eerie silence.

Mammon wasn’t yelling about some new scheme. He wasn’t bragging about his latest purchase or complaining about his brothers. He wasn’t even trying to drag you into some get-rich-quick plan.

He was quiet.

Too quiet.

When you found him in his room, he was sitting on the floor, leaning against his bed with his knees pulled up, staring at the wall. His D.D.D. lay forgotten beside him, the screen dim. His usual cocky smirk was nowhere to be seen.

This wasn’t his normal sulking after losing a bet or getting scolded by Lucifer. This was different.

"Mammon?"

He flinched slightly at your voice but didn’t look up.

You didn’t wait for an invitation. Instead, you sat beside him, close enough that your knees brushed. He stiffened for a second before sighing, running a hand down his face.

"You shouldn’t be here," he muttered. "Ain’t exactly good company right now."

You bumped your shoulder against his. "Too bad. I like your company."

Mammon let out a humorless laugh.

"Yeah? Well, you’re probably the only one."

That was what made your stomach twist. The way he said it—flat, resigned, like he truly believed it.

You stayed quiet, giving him space to talk.

It took him a moment, but eventually, he sighed again, running a hand through his messy white hair.

"I just... I dunno." His voice was quieter than usual. "Some days, it just feels like—like everyone’s right about me."

Your chest tightened.

"What do you mean?"

He scoffed. "C’mon, ya know what I mean. I screw up all the time. I owe Grimm to half of the Devildom. I mess up every job I get. No one takes me seriously, and maybe they shouldn’t."

His hands clenched into fists.

"I get called a scumbag so much it’s startin’ to sound like my damn name."

You reached out, gently prying one of his fists open to hold his hand. His fingers twitched but didn’t pull away.

"Mammon." Your voice was soft but firm. "You are not a scumbag."

He let out another bitter laugh. "Ya don’t gotta say that just ‘cause you’re my partner."

"I’m not just saying it. I mean it." You squeezed his hand. "You mess up sometimes. So what? That doesn’t make you bad. That makes you human. Well… demon. But you know what I mean."

His lips twitched, just barely, before he sighed again, rubbing at his eyes like he was trying to wipe away thoughts he didn’t want to have.

"It’s just…" His voice wavered. "Sometimes, I think—what if I really ain’t good for nothin’? What if they’re all right?"

That was it. That was the thought eating away at him.

Without thinking, you moved, shifting so you were right in front of him. He blinked at you, startled, as you took his face in your hands.

"Mammon. Look at me."

He hesitated but obeyed, his eyes flickering with something vulnerable.

"You are not worthless. Not even close. Do you know what I see when I look at you?"

His throat bobbed. "…A greedy idiot?"

You flicked his forehead lightly. "No, dummy." You gave him a soft smile. "I see someone who cares. Who loves his family even when they’re mean to him. Who protects the people he loves even when he’s scared. I see the Mammon who makes me laugh when I feel awful. The Mammon who gave me his jacket when I was cold, even though he pretended it was ‘just ‘cause I looked pathetic.’"

His ears went red. "Oi—!"

"I see the Mammon who would give me the last bite of his favorite food if I asked."

"Tch, yeah, ‘cause you steal it from my plate."

"And yet, you never stop me."

Mammon grumbled something under his breath, but his shoulders relaxed a little. His fingers squeezed yours back.

"You’re a lot of things, Mammon. Stubborn. Loud. Sometimes reckless. But you are not worthless. And I don’t ever want to hear you say that again, got it?"

His eyes searched yours like he wanted to believe you, but something was still holding him back.

So, you leaned in, pressing your forehead against his.

"I love you," you whispered. "You. Not some perfect version of you. Just you. The greedy, dramatic, ridiculous, caring, golden-hearted dude that I fell for."

Mammon sucked in a sharp breath.

And then, to your surprise, he collapsed against you, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist as he buried his face in your shoulder. You felt the way his breathing hitched, the way his fingers clutched at your back like he was scared you’d disappear if he let go.

You hugged him just as tightly.

"You really mean that?" His voice was so quiet it nearly broke your heart.

"With everything I’ve got."

He didn’t respond right away. But after a moment, you felt him nod against your shoulder.

"…Okay."

It wasn’t a grand declaration, but you knew what it meant.

So you just held him, letting the silence settle, warm and comfortable.

Eventually, you felt him shift, mumbling into your hair, "You… You ain’t gonna let go yet, right?"

You smiled, squeezing him tighter.

"Not a chance."

Glitches in the System

Something was wrong.

You knew it the second you stepped into Leviathan’s room. The usual comforting glow of his multiple screens flickered erratically, casting strange shadows across the mess of figurines, manga stacks, and game cases scattered around. But the most unsettling thing?

Levi was silent.

No muttering about some new event in Mythic Devildom, no complaints about normies ruining a franchise, no excited rambling about an upcoming gacha banner. Just… silence.

Your stomach twisted.

He was at his desk, hunched over with his back to you, but he wasn’t playing anything. His keyboard was untouched. His headphones hung around his neck, blinking like they’d been disconnected mid-game.

"Levi?"

He tensed, fingers curling into his sleeves. "Go away."

Your heart sank.

"Not happening." You stepped closer, hesitating only slightly before reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder.

He flinched.

"I said—!" He spun around, eyes burning with frustration—until they landed on you. His glare faltered, flickering into something more uncertain.

You took that as a win and pulled over a chair, sitting beside him.

"Want to tell me what happened?"

Levi scoffed, dropping his gaze. "Tch. Like you care."

Your chest ached.

"I do care, Levi. That’s why I’m here."

He hugged himself, pulling his hoodie sleeves over his hands, a defensive habit you knew all too well.

"It's stupid," he muttered.

"If it’s making you feel like this, it’s not stupid."

He inhaled sharply but still wouldn't look at you.

"…I lost," he finally said.

You blinked. "Lost?"

"Yeah." His voice was bitter. "I was in this tournament—one of the biggest ones for my game. I practiced for weeks. I barely slept, barely did anything else, and I still—" He cut himself off, gripping his arms tighter. "I lost. And everyone saw. Everyone in the chat was laughing, calling me a failure, saying I was all talk. And maybe they’re right."

Your heart broke.

"Levi."

"No—!" He shot up suddenly, knocking his chair back. He started pacing, his movements frantic. "They are right! I am a failure! I call myself a pro gamer, but what kind of pro gamer loses like that?! It wasn’t even close! I embarrassed myself in front of thousands of people! I—I—" His voice cracked.

Then, suddenly, he stopped, shoulders shaking. His breath came in short, sharp gasps. His hands clenched into fists at his sides.

You realized with a jolt—he wasn’t just upset. He was panicking.

You moved without thinking, stepping right in front of him.

"Levi, look at me."

He shook his head violently.

"Levi."

Nothing. He was spiraling, lost in his own thoughts, drowning. You hesitated only a moment before cupping his face gently, forcing him to focus on you.

His wide eyes locked onto yours, pupils blown out in distress. His breathing was ragged, his whole body trembling.

"Breathe with me," you murmured. "Okay? In—" You inhaled deeply, exaggerating it. "—and out."

His breath hitched, but he followed, shaky and uneven.

"Again," you urged.

Another breath. This one a little steadier.

And another.

Slowly, the tension drained from his body. His fists loosened, his breathing evened out.

And then—he collapsed against you.

You barely had time to react before his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a desperate, shaking hug. His face buried itself in your shoulder, and you felt a dampness against your shirt.

"I—I tried so hard," he whispered, voice raw. "And I still wasn’t good enough."

You held him tighter. "Levi, you are more than a game. More than a tournament. Losing doesn’t make you a failure."

His grip tightened. "Then why does it feel like it?"

You exhaled softly, running your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp the way you knew soothed him.

"Because you care. Because you put everything into the things you love. That’s not a weakness, Levi—that’s passion."

He shuddered against you.

"But they—everyone in the chat—"

"They don’t matter. They’re just voices in the void. I’m real. Your brothers are real. And we all love you no matter what."

He let out a broken noise, gripping you like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to the ground.

You held him through it, letting him feel everything he needed to feel.

Minutes passed. Eventually, his breathing steadied, and his hands wrapped loosely around your wrist—a quiet, instinctual gesture of comfort.

"You’re really not gonna leave, huh?" His voice was hoarse but teasing.

You smiled against his hair. "Not a chance, Leviathan."

He sniffled. "Tch. Normie."

But his arms never let go.

Tears in the Pages

The library was quiet, as it usually was in the late hours. But tonight, there was a noticeable absence of the usual rustling of pages, the low murmurs of Satan reading, lost in a novel or some new research.

Instead, there was just silence, thick and heavy.

You found him curled in the corner of the library, a worn book resting untouched in his lap. The soft glow of the candlelight flickered against his pale skin, but his usual sharp gaze was nowhere to be found. His eyes were staring blankly at the floor, distant, lost in a sea of thoughts that you could almost feel pressing down on him.

"Satan?"

His head lifted slowly, and you saw the faint traces of exhaustion and something deeper—something you hadn’t seen in a while. Vulnerability.

"I didn't hear you come in." His voice was softer than usual, quieter, almost subdued.

You hesitated for a moment before walking over and sitting beside him. The familiar scent of old books and the warmth of the fire were comforting, but the coldness in his posture was anything but.

"Satan, what’s going on?"

His eyes flickered, briefly meeting yours, before he turned away again, like he couldn’t bear to hold your gaze. "It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it."

You knew that tone. It was the same one he used when he didn’t want to be a burden, when he wanted to keep whatever was bothering him locked away. But Satan was many things—sharp, confident, clever—but the one thing he wasn’t good at was hiding his true feelings from you.

"It’s not nothing," you said gently, your hand reaching out to rest on his.

He didn’t pull away, but he didn’t speak either.

"You can’t keep it all inside," you continued. "Whatever it is, I want to help."

Satan’s fingers twitched beneath yours, and for a long moment, he stayed silent, as though he was debating whether or not to speak. His chest rose and fell with a deep, almost imperceptible sigh.

"I’ve been...thinking about something." He finally spoke, his voice strained. "Something from a long time ago. Something I thought I had dealt with."

You leaned in slightly, concern creasing your brow. "What is it, Satan?"

He closed his eyes for a moment, his lips pressing together in a thin line, before he spoke again, his words quiet, almost fragile.

"The truth about my origins. The things that… were done to me before I became who I am."

You blinked, taken aback. Satan rarely spoke about his past, about the early years of his existence, before he was the commanding and intellectual demon you knew so well. It was always a sensitive topic, one he tried to avoid, but now it was spilling out, the weight of it too much for him to carry alone.

You placed your hand gently on his shoulder, offering silent support. "You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready, but I’m here for you."

He let out a bitter laugh, though it held no mirth. "It’s not about being ready. It’s just that…" He hesitated, his voice almost breaking. "I’ve spent so much time focusing on proving myself. On showing that I’m not what they made me, but…" His voice trailed off, and you could feel the tension radiating from him.

"But what, Satan?"

He swallowed, his jaw tightening. "But I’m still afraid. Afraid that, despite everything I’ve done, I’ll always be... that thing."

You didn’t hesitate. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. His body stiffened at first, as if he wasn’t sure how to react, but then, slowly, he relaxed, melting into your warmth.

"You are not that thing," you whispered firmly, your voice strong, unwavering. "You’re Satan. The demon who’s fought so hard for everything he has, for the person he is. None of that changes, not because of your past. Not because of anything."

He buried his face into your shoulder, his grip tightening around you, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt the weight of his walls coming down.

"But what if I’m not good enough?" His voice was muffled against you, raw with emotion. "What if I’ve ruined everything by trying to be something I’m not?"

You pulled back just enough to cup his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you, to see the sincerity in your eyes.

"You’re more than enough," you said, your voice steady, full of conviction. "You’ve always been enough."

Satan’s eyes searched yours, and for a moment, the two of you were locked in that quiet space—where only truth mattered. Slowly, he leaned forward, pressing his forehead gently against yours.

"Thank you," he whispered. "I’ve always been afraid of being a disappointment. To you, to my brothers, to myself."

You kissed his forehead softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from his face. "You could never be a disappointment. You’re perfect to me, just as you are."

For a long while, neither of you moved. Satan was still, his body language soft and open, and you could feel the way the heaviness in his chest had lightened just a little.

And for the first time in a long while, you both allowed yourselves to just be.

"Stay with me?" he asked, his voice quieter now, less burdened.

"Always," you replied, pulling him close once more, never wanting him to feel alone again.

A Night of Roses and Reassurance

The House of Lamentation was unusually quiet. The kind of quiet that felt wrong, like something was missing. You didn’t even have to check your phone to know—Asmo hadn't messaged you all day. No excited texts about the latest Majolish trends, no voice notes gushing about his new skincare routine, not even a single selfie.

Something was wrong.

You found him curled up in his room, hidden beneath a sea of silk sheets, his usual scent of roses and vanilla barely noticeable under the weight of something bitter. He didn't look up when you entered, which was an immediate red flag. Asmo always acknowledged you, always made a show of greeting you, even if he was in the middle of a dramatic episode about a chipped nail.

But not this time.

You approached slowly, sitting on the edge of his bed. The mattress dipped, and Asmo stirred just enough to peek at you with tired, dull eyes. His makeup was smudged—something he’d never allow in normal circumstances.

"Hey, sweetheart," you said gently, brushing a strand of soft champagne-colored hair from his face. "Rough day?"

Asmo let out a heavy sigh, rolling onto his back and staring at the ceiling. His lips trembled slightly before he spoke.

"It was awful."

You didn’t rush him. Instead, you took his hand, rubbing slow, soothing circles into his palm, waiting for him to continue.

"Everyone was so… so mean today." His voice wobbled, and your heart clenched. "I know people call me shallow, but today it felt different. I overheard some demons talking about me—saying I was nothing but an airheaded flirt, that I don't really matter beyond being pretty. Like I'm some… disposable accessory."

His fingers tightened around yours as he whispered, "I know I shouldn't care what lesser demons think, but I do. And I hate that I do."

You didn't hesitate.

"Asmo," you murmured, shifting closer, your free hand cradling his cheek. He leaned into the warmth, his eyes squeezing shut like he wanted to block out the world.

"Listen to me. You are not shallow. You are not just ‘pretty.’ You are the most radiant, kind, loving person I’ve ever met. You make people feel seen. You make me feel seen. And anyone who reduces you to just your looks is too blind to recognize the heart behind them."

Asmo let out a shaky breath, his lower lip quivering.

"But what if they're right? What if I am just—"

"They're not." Your voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. "Do you think I love you because of your looks?"

His eyes fluttered open, glistening with unshed tears.

"...I mean, it helps," he tried to joke, but his voice cracked. You huffed out a small laugh before cupping both of his cheeks, thumbs stroking his skin.

"I love you because you're you, Asmo. Because you're the one who remembers how I take my tea. Because you send me cute messages just to make me smile. Because you give the best hugs, even when you're the one who needs them."

His breath hitched.

"Because you care so much it hurts. Because you have so much love in your heart, you don’t even know what to do with it. And because I—" you leaned in, pressing your forehead against his, "—would be lost without you."

A single tear slipped down his cheek. You wiped it away before he could, and that was all it took for the dam to break.

Asmo let out a choked sob and threw his arms around you, clinging to you like you were the only thing keeping him together. You held him just as tightly, rubbing his back as his body trembled against yours.

"I hate feeling like this," he admitted, voice muffled against your shoulder.

"I know, baby," you whispered, pressing a kiss into his hair. "But you're allowed to feel like this. You don't always have to be perfect."

He let out a wet laugh. "That’s funny coming from you, my little perfectionist."

You snorted, giving his side a playful squeeze. "Says the demon who takes an hour to pick a lip gloss."

"Excuse you, that’s a crucial life decision." His voice was still thick with emotion, but a little bit of his usual spark was returning. You smiled.

"How about this? We do a little self-care night. Just us. No outside world, no mean demons, just cozy blankets, snacks, and pampering. You can rant all you want, and I'll be here to listen. Sound good?"

Asmo sniffled, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. "You really mean it?"

You booped his nose. "Of course, silly. I’d do anything for you."

He let out a watery giggle before pouting dramatically. "Ugh, you're too sweet. It's so unfair. How am I supposed to stay miserable when you're this cute?"

You grinned. "That's the point."

Asmo exhaled deeply, his body finally relaxing. "Okay, okay, you win. But only if we do facemasks. And you let me paint your nails."

"Deal."

And as you pulled him into another warm embrace, feeling his heartbeat slow to a steady rhythm, you knew—no matter how bad his day had been, he would always have you to make it better.

The Weight of the World

Beelzebub had always been a rock—unshakable, steadfast, and incredibly reliable. But tonight, something was different.

You found him in the kitchen, standing in front of the fridge, staring at the vast array of food with a look of emptiness in his eyes. It wasn’t like him to be lost in thought like this, especially when food was involved.

“Beel?”

He didn’t respond right away, his hand still resting on the fridge door. He was so still, you could almost believe he wasn’t even breathing.

You stepped closer, quietly, making your way around the kitchen island to where he stood.

“Beel, talk to me.”

He let out a long sigh, closing the fridge door gently and leaning against it, his broad shoulders sagging under an invisible weight. He looked exhausted, like he hadn’t been sleeping much, or maybe he had been sleeping too much, trying to escape whatever was weighing on his mind.

“It’s nothing,” he muttered, but even you could tell that was far from the truth.

You didn’t let him hide this time. Gently, you reached out and placed a hand on his arm, your touch warm and grounding. “Beel, I can tell something’s wrong.”

His lips parted, but no words came out at first. Instead, he rubbed the back of his neck, a familiar nervous habit of his.

“I don’t know why I’m feeling this way,” he confessed, his voice heavy. “I’ve been so tired, and no matter how much I eat or how much I rest, it’s like there’s something missing. Like I can’t shake it off. It’s...”

He trailed off, his words stuck in his throat. You could see the turmoil in his eyes.

You stepped closer, closing the space between you, and took his hands in yours. “It’s okay. Whatever it is, you don’t have to carry it by yourself. I’m here for you.”

For a long moment, he just stood there, his grip tight on your hands as though he were afraid to let go. Then, finally, he spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I’ve been so focused on making sure everyone else is okay... but I haven’t been okay. And it feels like I’m failing.”

You blinked, surprised. “Failing? Beel, you’re one of the strongest people I know. You’re always there for your brothers, always looking out for them. You don’t fail.”

Beel’s shoulders slumped further, and he shook his head slowly. “It’s not just them... it’s me. I... I feel like I’m always just... eating to fill something up. It’s like I’m stuck in a loop. I don’t know how to stop, and I don’t know what else to do.”

You could feel the weight of his words sink into you, the pain of struggling with something so deeply personal and self-destructive. You took a deep breath, squeezing his hands.

“Beel, you don’t need to do this alone. We’ll figure it out together, okay?”

He didn’t answer right away, but he finally let go of your hands to wrap his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. His chest was warm, but his grip was shaky, as if he needed this more than anything right now.

“I’m scared,” he admitted, his voice muffled against your shoulder. “I don’t want to hurt anyone, and I don’t want to hurt you, but I don’t know how to stop feeling like this.”

You hugged him back, tightening your hold. “You won’t hurt me, Beel. You never could. And I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here with you, okay? Whatever you need, I’m here to help.”

He stayed like that for a long time, his face buried in your shoulder, his body heavy against you. But little by little, you felt his tension start to ease. The weight he’d been carrying slowly seemed to lift, just by being here with you.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Beel murmured quietly, pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes were still a little tired, but there was a softness there now, a sense of relief.

“You’ll never have to find out,” you replied with a gentle smile, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “We’ll get through this together. One step at a time.”

Beel gave a small, thankful smile before pulling you back into his arms. This time, there was no tension, just a quiet comfort in knowing you were there for each other.

And as the night wore on, you stayed by his side, letting him rest, letting him be, while you both found the strength to face whatever came next—together.

Whispers in the Dark

The lights in the attic were dim, only the moonlight filtering through the small window to cast soft shadows across the room. You had been looking for Belphegor for a while now, knowing he’d been unusually quiet. Normally, he'd be lounging around or teasing his brothers, but tonight, the silence was unnerving.

Finally, you found him curled up on the couch, his head resting against a pile of pillows. His eyes were closed, but there was something about his stillness that made you uneasy. Normally, he was playful, sleepy, maybe a little too sarcastic, but tonight, he was just... absent.

You stepped closer, your voice quiet but gentle. "Belphie?"

He didn’t stir, not immediately, but you could see his shoulders shift slightly, as though he was aware of your presence but didn’t want to face you.

You sat down next to him, your gaze soft, watching him closely. It wasn’t like him to shut himself off like this.

"You’ve been quiet." Your voice was a little hesitant, knowing how he sometimes liked to keep to himself when he was upset. "What’s going on?"

Belphegor finally opened his eyes, slowly blinking at the ceiling, as though he didn’t have the energy to move. "It’s nothing."

You knew that wasn’t true. Belphie had a tendency to keep his feelings locked away, but you also knew that he didn’t want to talk about things he couldn’t fix. You reached out and gently placed your hand on his, resting against his side, silently offering your presence.

"It’s not nothing," you said softly, watching the way he stiffened for just a moment before his hand relaxed against yours.

He sighed, a long, drawn-out sound that seemed to carry the weight of his frustration. "I’ve been... feeling like I’m not good enough. Like I don’t belong. I thought maybe, if I stayed away, it would pass, but it’s not going away. It’s just..." He trailed off, his words barely a whisper. "I don’t know what to do."

Belphie never liked feeling like he was a burden, and the weight of those emotions was evident in his voice. He didn’t need to say it, but you could hear how much he was struggling, how isolated he felt in the midst of everything.

You leaned in closer, your voice gentle but firm. "Belphie, listen to me. You don’t have to carry everything alone. You’re not a burden, and you do belong. You’re a part of this family, and you’re important to me."

He shifted, his gaze meeting yours, and you could see the conflict in his eyes—the part of him that wanted to believe you but the other part that still felt unworthy.

"I just don’t feel like I can do anything right," he mumbled, his voice barely audible. "I’ve been so... tired of everything. It’s like I’m stuck, and no matter how much I sleep, I’m still exhausted, still empty."

You brushed your thumb across the back of his hand, your touch soothing, trying to ground him. "You don’t have to do everything by yourself, Belphie. It’s okay to feel this way. You’re allowed to have bad days, to feel lost sometimes. But you don’t have to stay there."

He turned his head toward you, his eyes softening as he studied your face. Slowly, he lifted his hand to your cheek, his fingers gently brushing against your skin. "I hate feeling like this," he admitted, his voice quiet but vulnerable. "But... I’m glad you’re here."

You smiled softly, moving closer until you were right next to him. You pulled him into a gentle hug, wrapping your arms around him, offering the comfort he didn’t know how to ask for.

"I’ll always be here, Belphie. You don’t ever have to face this alone," you whispered into his hair, your heart swelling with the desire to make him feel safe. "I’ll help you carry it, okay?"

For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. But you felt his grip tighten around you, his body slowly relaxing in your embrace.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice muffled against your shoulder. "I don’t deserve you..."

"Yes, you do," you whispered back, holding him a little tighter. "You deserve all the love in the world, Belphie. And I’m going to make sure you always feel that."

Slowly, the tension in his body began to ease. He rested his head against you, his breathing steadying as he allowed himself a rare moment of peace.

And for that moment, the world outside felt far away. It was just you and him, holding each other close in the quiet, letting the weight of everything else drift away.

456 notes · View notes

temis-de-leon · 9 months ago

Text

He has a nightmare where he rejected you

Characters: Lucifer and Mammon (x gn!reader, separately)

Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5

Main Masterlist

CW: very OOC since they'd never reject you to begin with, but hey, that's why it's a nightmare

A/N: the rest of the brothers, as well as the dateables, will have their own part too, but I'm writing the requests and the fics for the 500 followers event at the same time, so everything will take some time <3

Lucifer – You weren’t his first choice

Under the fear and the mistrust, you showed a clear interest in him since the beginning.

He couldn’t blame you; he was handsome, after all, and he knew his attitude was attractive to most.

And while he found you beautiful as well, you meddled too much in his family’s business and your defiance to him only felt irritable.

You were a nuisance. A threat to his Lord’s wishes.

He made sure to keep you at arms’ length except the few times he felt the need to threaten you.

Surprisingly, the more you forced him to know you, the more he couldn’t say no.

Your shared time turned enjoyable and you soon started to hang out in his office late at night or, if you were an early riser like him, in the morning during breakfast.

He should’ve expected your romantic feelings towards him, something he saw before you had the chance to tell him. The way you looked at him or blushed when he paid you attention, how you searched for his presence more and more.

He rejected you before you could even talk to him about it.

It was brutal, in a way, cold and straight to the point. He didn’t bother to pour his heart into his apology.

He had his duties to Lord Diavolo, to his family and the kingdom.

The attraction he felt for you, the love that could’ve been, wasn’t enough for him to stay.

There were two types of pain in his chest when he woke up: the pressure in his sternum caused by the sharp edge of the desk and the sting in his heart from the hurt in your eyes.

He didn’t do that, did he?

He accepted you, he accepted your love with open arms, gave his in return. Lucifer could remember the smile in your first kiss just as much as the sincerity in your voice each time you reminded him the depth of your feelings. He always opened his ribcage like you would with a book to show his reciprocation.

Staring at his paperwork in horror, the pool of saliva slowly drying under his distress, Lucifer searched for memories that could prove the existence of your relationship. Your weight on his lap, your scent in his clothes, the last message you sent him, the last time he treated you on a date.

When was that?

How many days ago?

Weeks? Months??

His fingers trembled when he pushed his hair back and he knew the sting in his eyes wasn’t due to fatigue. Now gasping, eyes wide open in panic, he got up and paced around the room, the false reality of his dreams thankfully fading away and letting him see himself pouring two drinks while you stared at him in adoration, setting you on top of the table to kiss you carelessly or letting you drag him out of the office for a good night sleep.

“Dear Diavolo” he mustered to himself, taking his coat off and letting it fall to the ground before breathing deeply. “How stupid… Stupid…”

Although not entirely, the embarrassment of suffering such despair for a nightmare washed the panic away, making him thank everything that would listen that none of his brothers were there to witness his fear and desperation.

It was the last thing he needed.

However, still hating the oneiric sight of your heartbreak, Lucifer refused to stay in the office. Reading official documents and signing them with his beautifully practised handwriting seemed like proper torture now and he knew that going back to his work would only give him more suffering dreams.

Would you hug him for the rest of the night if he asked or would you rather have the roles reversed, as it usually was? Oh, what he would do to feel your fingers through his hair and your heartbeat under his cheek. He’d stay awake forever if that meant never letting you go the way he did in his dream.

Mammon – He wouldn’t admit the truth

He thought so lowly of you during your first week in the Devildom that once he caught feelings, admitting them was simply mortifying.

The second born, Avatar of Greed, falling in love with a human? It was embarrassing at best and pathetic at worst.

Yet, he followed you every step of the way. Going to classes, to the cafeteria, back to the house once the day was over...

As days went by, he even spent more time in your room than his; watching a movie, taking a nap, studying or just hanging out.

And when he wanted to do something else? Something more… illegal and underground?

Oh, you followed. You followed him just as blindly as he followed you.

It was painful, yet wonderful.

How full his chest felt whenever you smiled or even looked at him, the complicity in your conversations, the comfortable silence you shared.

The quiet sobs that closed his throat each time he insulted you because he accidentally showed too much of himself, the horrifying emptiness of his room that engulfed him when you finally had enough and wouldn’t let him visit you out of the blue anymore.

Your feelings for him were as clear as the ones he had for you, but none of them were spoken about.

Yours came and went, first hopeful and then neglected.

His stayed.

He still followed, you just didn’t look back anymore.

He woke up crying, body hyperventilating and sweating and mind still in the horror that his dream had created.

He recognized the sheets as the ones from his bed, but everything else looked blurry and too dark to pay attention to. However, Mammon could feel the spot next to him still warm and the silhouette of your figure was visible on the mattress. A quick glance at the door and the lights of the bathroom shining through helped set his heart in a steady pace.

You were there with him, unavailable for just a couple of minutes, but soon to return to the comfort of his arms. Your clothes were mixed with his on the sofa, he was charging his DDD with your charger because his was in your room.

Even if it was hard to say out loud, Mammon loved you too much to ever let you go, as did you.

There was no possibility of that nightmare ever being real.

“Did I wake you up?”

There you stood, above him, hair completely dishevelled, eyes half closed, either from grogginess or the temporary blindness from light exposure, and hands reaching out for him. Your fingers intertwined with his as soon as they found each other and your lips slowly came down to clumsily kiss the corner of his mouth.

“What was that?” he softly laughed, quickly forgetting about the nightmare.

“Shut up, I can’t even see you”

He could only observe in tenderness and relief as you climbed over him, ignoring your side of the bed in favour of his entire torso, but, just when you were settling in, you licked your lips and stared at him, even if you weren’t entirely able to see.

“Baby, are you crying?”

“No, I’m not” he immediately answered in a defensive stance, blushing in embarrassment.

How could you know being blind as a mole?? Did you taste his tears when you kissed him?

“Mammon”

You tried to look serious, but the exhaustion betrayed you, turning your glare into a pout. He could’ve laughed at you, and he would’ve in any other situation, but the feeling of being too late to freely love you still crushed his heart and the only thing he wanted to do was to keep you close and hope you were still there by morning.

“I’m not crying” he insisted, this time in a softer tone.

That seemed to reach whatever was left of your consciousness, so you finally let your head fall on top of his chest to continue your slumber, talking one last time only to say what he needed to hear the most.

“I love you, Mams”

“I love you too” he sighed.

He’d tell you again once you were awake. And once more after that, just to make sure.

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squeakyducky · 6 months ago

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I JUST REALIZED HE'S ACTUALLY POLE DANCING HELP

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totallyxtaurus · 19 days ago

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Depollute me, gentle angel

Summary: Sylus is away on a business trip while you sink deeper into your depressive episode. Pairing: Sylus x gn reader Genre: Angst (I guess, I'm not sure lol) Trigger Warnings: depression, mental health struggles, anxiety, self-neglect, and hints of suicide A/N: Soo I was going to make a fluffy/smutty story but my PMDD hit me hard af and then BOOM, this. This was super hard yet easy to write at the same time probably because it's a self insert lol like this is literally me. Sylus' "perfect" persona does intimidate me and I grappled with the thoughts of "what if Sylus was real, could he actually handle this?" I hope everyone enjoys and please please please remember to take care of yourselves! 💗

When was the last time you crawled out of bed today? Your stomach twisting, hunger pangs turn into nausea. But the thought of forcing your limbs to carry you into the kitchen for food feels insufferable. So, you stay buried in the tangle of unmade, unwashed sheets. A hint of fabric softener desperately clinging to the fibers, the stale scent of sweat and skin already taking over. Earlier, you pressed your nose into your shoulder, checking. The sweet floral deodorant from days ago (you think) has spoiled into something sour.

Each day and sleepless night blend together. They become hard to tell apart, except when the phone rings. Work is calling again—probably to ask when you’ll be back in or to terminate you. You know you should care—you do care! Well, you used to. You liked your job; you were good at it. But does it bring you joy? Right now, does anything?

Everything feels like a chore that you can’t be bothered to attempt. Showering? The thought alone is exhausting. But thinking about the steps that come before the shower is enough to make you sit in your own filth. You reach up absently. Your fingers get lost in the greasy roots and tangle in the mess below. Dandruff flakes dust your pillow. You picked at your scalp while scrolling for hours. Anything to pull you out of this pit you’ve fallen into, for a moment of relief. Your stomach churns each time your tongue touches the slimy coating that has built up on your teeth. Panic spikes at the thought of cavities—the decay, a reminder of neglect. Yet, there you lie, paralyzed by your own anxieties. God, you want to move. You really do. But then you tell yourself, I’ll brush them after I eat, for sure. You know it’s a lie. But it makes the guilt easier to swallow.

These bouts come and go, pulled in by a force you can’t escape—because you are the force. Like the moon dragging in the tides, summoning waves too strong to withstand. When you’re up, you trick yourself into thinking that you have it all together, like you’ve cracked some secret code. You throw yourself into work, into people, an endless loop on performance mode. Blissfully numb. Until the crash. The tide swells too high, knocking you under and swallowing you whole. Then you’re here, again. Bedridden. Isolated. Time slips through your fingers. Days, weeks—who knows how long. Until someone notices your absence. Usually, him. Then you have to explain why you vanished and begin to collect the pieces of you that have washed back ashore.

“You should trust Sylus more," your therapist had said, voice gentle but firm. “Let him in during these episodes. He wants to help you.”

You nodded, pretending to consider it, not missing the way they emphasized the "want to help you" part. But the idea was absurd, laughable. Let Sylus see you like this? No, it’s better this way. You can keep your dignity and him, a win-win situation.

This episode—as your therapist calls it—came at the perfect time. Sylus is away on a business trip, conveniently absent when you’ve sunk to your lowest. He gives you roughly three days of no contact before the constant calls start rolling in. This time, luck was on your side, a twisted kind of luck, but still one that was to your advantage. You can’t even begin to imagine the horror that he’d feel if he saw you like this.

Undeserving. That’s the only word that comes to mind when you think of Sylus, especially in moments like these.

Sylus, the man who has everything—and if he doesn’t, he simply acquires it. Always composed, always in control. He’s the kind of person who seems to glide through life, untouchable. You can’t imagine him unraveling, not like this. No, if he ever stumbled, he’d just power through it. There are no obstacles he can’t overcome.

Until you.

You are the only thing he can’t fix. A threat to the pristine world he’s built. Thankfully, he hasn’t seen you like this, and he never will. He can’t.

Your therapist says your way of thinking is the problem. You don’t let him in. You don’t give him a chance to understand. Your therapist doesn’t know Sylus like you do. What if he does understand—but secretly believes you’re too much? And knowing Sylus, what if he doesn’t leave, but worse—stays out of obligation? Out of pity?

Your chest begins to tighten at the thought, your heartbeat picking up. You’d rather disappear completely than let him see you like this.

But before you can spiral any further, the doorbell rings.

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demonvibez · 9 months ago

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Showering with Diavolo

Characters: Lord Diavolo x GN Reader Word Count: 2.3k+ Rating: Mature/Explicit [MDNI] Tags: a lil fluff, unprotected penetration, outercourse, fangs/marking, gn body parts A/N: Received this request as a comment under this fic so of course I had to write a lil headcanon/drabble about my husband, lol. Anyways, hope y'all like this - I could go on about Showertime Dia forever ♡

-> Typically Lord Diavolo has to adhere to a very strict schedule, his life filled with routine. Sadly, his hygiene regiment is no different - quick fifteen minute showers, six days per week, with the exception of his weekly bubble bath.

-> Most of his showers are quite quick and methodical, starting with his hair and working his way to washing his body. At the end of the fifteen minutes, Barbatos is usually there to greet him with his towel and uniform, eager to get the Young Master's very busy day started.

-> He has probably been gifted every hair-care and body gel to ever exist in the Devildom. But instead, his favorite is one you gifted him, and he is sure to use it everyday. The moment the musky-amber scent hits his nostrils in the morning, it reminds him of you, and he just knows he'll have a good day that day.

-> On Saturday evenings, however, the Prince has a little more time to himself - he pours himself some Demonus and settles into his jacuzzi-style bathtub, the water jets melting away the week's worries.

-> He usually uses the time to catch up on whatever popular shows he's missed, the television in his bathroom being a new addition. You had given him this idea - you told him that 'even the future king needs a little bit of me time,' and he started crafting an Akuzon order almost immediately after you walked off to class.

-> He lets himself drift off into his own peaceful oasis - too often falling into slumber, as thoughts of you turn into dreams. Lately though, he can't help but to feel like something is missing - that sitting in this jacuzzi makes him feel a bit lonely.

♡ "If only you were here with me now," he whispers to himself, before letting out a sigh and sinking beneath the water's surface.

-> Luckily for Lord Diavolo, the stars would soon align in his favor, and the fates would push you two closer together. It all started on a camping trip with the usual crowd from RAD. Diavolo had volunteered to help you gather some firewood - a rather simple task, one would think. Instead this task ended with the two of you running into a pack of wild hellhounds, and getting pushed into a mud pit while attempting to play with them. Barbatos looked rather perturbed when he saw the two of you arrive back at camp, but you assured him that everything was fine. 'Come on, let's get cleaned up,' you say with a smirk to a slightly shocked (and very giddy) Diavolo, your fingers entwining with his as you pull him towards the camp showers.

-> He isn't usually a shy demon, but when it comes to stripping down and getting into this shower with you, he can't seem to keep the blush on his face under control. What started as a nice shower together, washing each other's hair and giggling as you splash each other, ends with the two of you in a passionate embrace. With your legs wrapped around his torso, your lips collide as the cool shower's water cascades down Diavolo's toned back. It definitely would have gone further, had the two of you not been interrupted by Mammon and Levi banging on the door. (He did invite you back to his tent afterwards, so the night was not completely lost. Mammon and Levi were also lectured by Lucifer, 'for their shame and disrespect' as he puts it - but that's a different story.)

-> Ever since that night on the camping trip, your relationship has blossomed, and the two to of you spend as much time together as possible. You usually alternate between staying over with each other - most of the time you go over to stay with him in the Castle, but every now and then you are able to convince Lucifer that the House is clean enough for your Royal Boyfriend to spend the night.

-> The first time he stays over, of course the two of you shower together! You ask him if you should text Barbatos to bring over some of his shower supplies, but Diavolo insists on using yours, excited to smell like your signature scent for the rest of the day. He'll always insist on using your products - a light breeze of that scent helps him get through those endless meetings! (Although it does tend to make his mind wander...)

♡ Showers with Diavolo are always a mix of spontaneous and sensual. One moment you're splashing each other with soap suds, playing 'keep away' with the loofah…the next he has you pinned to the wall, unable to resist the way you look up at him, and he can't stop his lips from crashing onto yours.

♡ It doesn't take much effort for him to pick you up, cradling you in his arms as the shower rains down onto the both of you - and now you can finally finish what the two of you started on that night camping; what Diavolo has been fantasizing about ever since. Your hands slide his damp crimson hair back out of his face, gripping it in the back as your tongues collide. You can feel Dia's thick throbbing cock teasing you, and all you can do is grind against him.

♡ He slides into you so effortlessly - as if you were made for him. Your arousal made you putty in his hands, your tight little hole adjusting to him after only a moment - but you still couldn't help the gasp you let out at his size, your eyes widening at the sensation.

♡ Every thrust in this position feels new, an unfathomable pleasure previously undiscovered. A new high, with no sight of the top. Each stroke hits so deeply within you with an electric feel, the rush of pleasure getting sent up to your brain, overstimulating all of your senses. The euphoria continues to build, and you don't know if it will ever end - if the tension will ever snap.

♡ The rising pleasure within you is starting to overwhelm you, having never felt so full before. Just when you thought you couldn't handle much more, the Prince slides one of his hands down to your sex, massaging you in tandem with his pace. Your nails dig into the flesh of his muscular shoulders as he finally pushes you over the edge. He finds himself following suit not long after, the feeling of your tight hole clenching around him making him unable to hold back any longer.

♡ Both of your moans fill the air as you ride out your climax together. Gasping for air, you hear a knock on the glass of the shower's door - you were so wrapped up in this moment together that neither of you heard Barbatos enter the bathroom. He waited until it sounded as though the two of you were finished before he interrupted your 'shower' - and now he's reminding you of the Young Master's busy schedule for today in a scolding tone, as he holds out towels for you both. Oops.

-> Anyways, you also love spending weekends at the Castle with him - it's easier to flow with his schedule that way. And of course Diavolo is going to invite you to his Saturday night soak; you're his favorite human, his lover, his partner…and it was originally your idea, in the first place!

-> Just know that this demon spent extensive time planning out your first bubble bath together - he had to pull out all of the stops!

-> The Friday morning beforehand, Barbatos comes in to wake up his Young Prince, only to find him already awake and making a rather large Akuzon order on his DDD. Scented candles, chocolate covered hellberries, vintage spirits - he was even considering calling in one of his favors to see if he could get some Celestial bubble bath expedited from the angelic realm. Cost is of no issue to him, wanting nothing more than to ensure the night's success. Barbatos scolds him several times throughout the day, the Prince seemingly distracted and prioritizing his night in with you over his paperwork.

-> When the time comes to set everything up, Diavolo insists on doing everything himself. He even threatens bribes Barbatos into going to Purgatory Hall for the evening - all so that he can do it all alone, eager to show you how much he cares about you. He has a brief moment of doubt as some of the Celestial bubble bath accidentally overflows onto the floor...but you're worth it, and he finishes fixing it all up right as you ring the front entrance anyways.

-> The scene set in his bathroom is so romantic, you wonder for a moment if you're actually in a movie. Abyss flower petals scattered around the floor. Candles set around the tub, the flickering glow dancing against the bathroom's tiles. Scented bubbles gently fizzing and popping, the light aroma filling the air and instantly making you feel relaxed. A bottle of champagne, specially ordered from the human realm, and set in an enchanted bucket of ice next to two hell-crystal champagne flutes. And your gorgeous Demon Prince standing in front of you, gently grabbing your hand to press his lips to your knuckles before he leads you over to the tub. If this is a dream, you definitely don't want to wake up...

-> After the two of you disrobe, you settle into the jacuzzi, and Diavolo gets you each a glass of champagne right after he presses the button to start up the water jets.

♡ It doesn't take much bubbly for the two of you to find yourselves in another heated moment - but the truth was, neither of you could hardly wait to jump the other from the moment you entered the bath's warm water. And now you find yourself in his lap, bouncing on his huge throbbing cock, the feeling of it filling you surprising you yet again. Every new position with the Prince feels like new territory, the way he strokes so deeply within you. Making you feel things you never have before - hitting spots you didn't know existed. This type of adventurous pleasure could become addicting...

♡ His golden eyes smolder with lust as he watches you, every gasp that escapes your lips pushing him closer and closer. Your little human hands grip at his scalp as his own fingers sink into the flesh of your hips. His lips find your neck, and his kisses gradually turn into light love bites, his fangs nipping little marks onto your skin as he thrusts up into you.

♡ "So good...all mine," he mumbles possessively against your neck.

♡ Your moans grow louder as Diavolo starts thrusting faster, taking the reigns as you let the building bliss take over your senses. He pulls away from you to see the way your eyes roll back in ecstasy as his hand glides down to your sex, massaging you in that spot that he knows drives you absolutely wild. Consumed by pleasure, that warm feeling of euphoria washes over you, your orgasm making you feel weightless in Diavolo's muscular arms.

♡ He's not done with you yet though - not even close. Switching positions, he picks you up in his arms and sets you down on the recessed bench in his bathtub. His hand grips under your thigh and pushes your leg up, a groan escaping his lips as he slides himself back into you. It had been merely a few moments, yet he had already missed the feeling of your tight warmth squeezing him so perfectly.

♡ He thrusts into you roughly and suddenly, the bath's water splashing and rippling against his gorgeous caramel skin with each stroke. You hadn't even come down from the high of your first orgasm, still feeling the aftershocks as Diavolo begins to fuck you faster and faster.

♡ Losing all restraint, his demon form slips out only a few moments before he hits his climax, causing his cock to grow even bigger. Your eyes widen as you feel him, his wings outstretched as he fills you with his royal seed - and you can't help but to join him, your orgasm overtaking you as well.

♡ Both panting for air, he picks you up and sits down with you in his lap, still throbbing deeply within you. He wraps his arms around you to hold you as you both catch your breath. Neither of you can help the smiles plastered across your faces, that blissful feeling still remaining as you sit with him in his loving embrace. Your cheek rests against his chest as his rests on top of your head, and he just knows that this is the happiest he's ever been in his long, demonic life.

-> Afterwards, as the two of you get ready for bed, Diavolo can't help the way his heart swells when he sees the way you've settled into his room. The way your things line the counter of his sink. The way you go to his wardrobe to retrieve your pajamas, instead of your bag. It's almost as if you live here in this Castle with him already - a thought as sweet as candy for the Young Devildom Prince.

-> And as you lay there snuggled up in his arms, your face buried in the crook of his neck, Diavolo contemplates asking you to move in with him right then and there. But you've already drifted off to sleep, so that will have to wait for another time. Looking down at you lovingly, his heart feels so full - he presses a kiss to the top of your head before laying back on his pillow, his eyes fluttering shut.

♡ "I love you so much," he whispers as he drifts off into his own slumber. With you in his arms and in his dreams, the Future Demon King can't help but to smile in his sleep.

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