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b33lz3burg3r · 2 years

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Hi! I saw the post of wanting to make Obey Me stuff and I had an idea. What one night after a long of partying MC who a little out of it hose to the brother she loves and knocks on their door to say “I wish you loved me” and passes out leaving the brother to figure out what to do with all this. I’m not sure if a good idea but it’s an idea. Thank you for reading this have a good day! ✨

˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳ "𝓘 𝓦𝓲𝓼𝓱 𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓭 𝓜𝓮"

✎cw: fluff, drunk confession, mentions of alcohol intake, gn!mc

✎notes: so sorry this took so long! Originally I was just going to write short HCs but decided against it and wrote drabbles instead. It became too long so I only wrote for the older brothers and Satan. For context, the scene below is "your/MC's POV", basically what happened before arriving at the brothers' rooms.

That was the plan, to silently sneak your way back in as to not alert the brothers and retreat to your room, yet for some reason you wandered further down the halls and found yourself standing outside his room.

Intoxicated and barely holding on to consciousness, you weren't sure what possessed you to raise your hand and bring your knuckles against the hard surface of his door. Whether it's liquid courage or an impulsive decision brought by bottled emotions of longing to the man on the other side of the locked door, you aren't quite sure. Though, one thing that you're certain of is the light creaking of metal hinges and the thin wood separating you from the one you desire swinging aside, revealing a familiar pair of eyes staring at your own with, at first, curiosity of who dared disturb him but quickly replaced by a look akin to delight upon seeing who stands before him.

Without much thought, the words you've been so desperately wanting to speak aloud slips past your lips with such ease that you're surprised it has taken you this long to say it...

"I wish you loved me.." You whispered so softly, barely audible, before passing out in his arms.

Lucifer is usually still awake at this hour, sitting behind his desk and buried under mountains of paperwork he has yet to touch. When he heard a knock from the other side of the door he immediately assumed it was you since you're the only one who ever dares disturb him while he's working this late. A smile quickly graces his lips. He might not admit it to you, or to anyone else for that matter, but recently he has been looking forward to your late night visits.

The way you would poke your head through the gap, checking to see if it's safe to enter, though still barging in regardless, and talking him into taking a quick break and sometimes even offering to give him a massage which he declined more often than he indulged you. Something about the way you always seemed concerned for his well being, always making up excuses to stay with him a bit longer, he finds it all endearing. The effort you put into brewing him coffee, making sure he's able to rest for a little while, and keeping him company through the night, he appreciates all of it. He might not verbally convey it to you just yet but it's true, he just hopes his actions are enough to disclose his feelings for now.

He shifts in his seat, and carefully runs his fingers through his hair to tame it to look a little more presentable. He won't deny it, he's sure the strain of stress is showing on his face from the accumulated workload he has to work through. It doesn't help that Mammon has once again dug an even deeper grave for himself and left him to clean up his younger brother's mess, so much for the second born's new strategy to get himself out of debt. Mammon might be his favorite brother but there's only so much he can take of Mammon's idiocy and inability to work through problems without inevitably creating a new one before they both come to share the same hair pigment.

A sigh left Lucifer's lips at the thought. Putting it aside for now, seeing you might ease his stress and the tension in his muscles. Speaking of, why hadn't you entered yet? Were your hands full at the moment? He recalls the last time you had come by with your hands full, grasping on to a tray of desserts and a tea set that was so heavy you couldn't let go of one end in fear of dropping everything. Perhaps it's the same case this time, and you're worried you'd accidentally drop what you had brought. No need to fret, he'll open the door for you.

The chair screeches against the floor, pushed aside and discarded as he makes his way towards the door in long strides. He wastes no time in swinging it open, ruby eyes lighting up the moment they caught sight of you standing before him.

Any words of greeting he was about to say is forgotten as soon as those five words left your lips, "I wish you loved me..." It takes him a minute to react, catching your unconscious body by the waist before you fall on the cold, hard floor and holding you close to him. Did he hear you right? Did you mean what you said or was it the alcohol talking? You did smell strongly of booze, he would have to scold you for drinking and staying out this late but that's something to worry about for tomorrow, for now he's focused on your sudden, but definitely welcome, confession.

From the way you said it, it sounds as if you've been holding back for so long, desperate to convey your true feelings towards the avatar of Pride. Evident by the crack in your voice, the tremble in your lips, and the desperation in your tone. Had he not given you his undivided attention, he would have missed such a bittersweet confession and he can't imagine how horrible of an outcome that would have been. A smile quickly found its way on his face, a sense of pride swelling in his chest at the thought of you choosing him instead of one of his brothers.

Carrying you to his bed, he gently lays you on the mattress, careful as to not accidentally disturb your slumber. He pulls the covers up to your abdomen, watching you fondly as you lay vulnerable before him. He lightly traces his fingertips against your cheek, featherlight touches ghosting over your skin as the reality of the situation finally settles in. You had confessed to him, personally in front of his room, albeit at an odd hour.

"If only you had told me sooner." A silent thanks to a wish he hoped would come true, he leans down to lightly peck your forehead as a sign of affection he longed to show you one day. "I would tell you how I truly feel about you but I'll save that for when you awaken. I can already see the kind of expression you'd make. I imagine it'll be quite adorable."

Chuckling in amusement at the mental image of your flushed face, he decides to take a quick break from his work in favor of getting a few hours of well deserved rest beside you. A whole week's worth of work was finished in less than a day, he deserves to get some rest after all the overtime work he's done.

He lays down under the covers, laying on his side and facing you. "You're a handful, MC. Troublesome and reckless, and incredibly nosy, but I can't deny that it's all part of your charm. I just wish you'd act a little more responsible at times... Though, your impulsive recklessness did produce good results for once."

You looked ethereal in his eyes, perfect in every way possible, despite the fact that you currently strongly smelt of human world alcohol. He'll have to take time out of his day tomorrow for a discussion with the person who brought you alcohol, of course you aren't off the hook either, but for now he'll let it slide. The inevitable hangover you'll have tomorrow is punishment enough. Don't worry, he'll be there beside you the whole time but don't expect to leave his room without a stern scolding about drinking responsibly.

On the nights he stays up contemplating about life and the things he'd done recently and in the past, Mammon usually fails to notice the hours pass by, too caught up on reminiscing instead of getting some sleep. On these nights he wishes you were beside him to help him rest, to whisper sweet nothings in order to distract him from focusing on intrusive thoughts, and help him realize his worth unlike his brothers who criticize almost anything and everything he does. Your soft voice and caring touch is all he craves, to feel your hands around him as you lull him to sleep.

Sometimes he'd wonder if his fantasies would ever come true, if you would willingly let him indulge in his daydreams and if you did, would you want it just as much as him? Just thinking about it made his cheeks feel warm.

In his sleep deprived state, he continues to restlessly toss and turn in his bed. An echoing knock resonating from his door startled him, making him sit upright. The familiar instinct of running away and hiding kicked in, afraid that it might be Lucifer standing on the other side, scrambling off the bed and tangling his limbs in the covers in a panic and causing him to fall over the edge of the mattress, landing face first on the floor.

He groaned loudly in pain, pushing himself on to his back as he caresses his face in his hands. It didn't hurt as much as one of Lucifer's punishments but it sure as hell did a number on him. He's sure it'll leave a mark, not a very visible one though. He makes a mental note to cover it up with foundation before showing up for breakfast tomorrow lest he wants his brothers to make fun of him even more than they already do.

Whether begrudgingly or willingly, he quickly found himself standing at the door way, knob in hand and eyes wide upon seeing you at his door at such an odd hour. There were times where you would visit him late at night but never this late.

"I wish you loved me..."

Perhaps it was the lack of sleep, the fatigue in his body that clouded his senses, but the look in your eyes and the desperation in your voice had proved him wrong. He hadn't misunderstood, you meant what you said, a confession of longing for your feelings to be reciprocated by the man you love, who's currently standing before you in a disheveled state.

Before Mammon could react, you had already fallen unconscious in his arms, leaving the confession hanging in the air without further explanation. The 2nd born isn't sure how to handle the onslaught of emotions, his thoughts running a mile a minute and his heart pounding erratically in his chest as he pondered over your sudden admission. Did you really mean it?

The words echoed in his mind continuously even after he had placed you on his bed and sat at the edge. "Dammit, mc," He ran a hand down his flushed face, his usual talkative tone returning after finally calming down. He had more or less processed what happened but still coming to terms with the fact that you had reciprocated his feelings, although you didn't exactly give him a chance to respond.

Despite that, he's happy with how things turned out, though he would've been much happier had you not passed out in his arms right after confessing. Shifting on the bed, Mammon moves until he's hovering over you, using his forearms to prop him up. He can feel your light breath fanning across his face, cheeks tinted with a soft blush and although the scent of alcohol was strong, he didn't mind as long as he can be close to you. He caresses your cheek in one hand, he almost can't believe how soft your skin feels under his touch.

"Mc," It slips past his lips with ease, your name never felt foreign on his tongue. He grumbles under his breath, still a little annoyed at how you had left him to process by himself. "Why? Why'd ya' haf'ta go and pass out right after confessin'? Ya' can't just spring that on people and expect 'em to-- just-- ya can't, you hear me?"

He stays silent for a moment before pressing your foreheads together, closing his eyes. He he takes a minute to relish in the fact that he's free to do so now. The hand still gently cradling your face slowly moves lower, his thumb barely grazing your bottom lip. The featherlight touch of his finger made you hum in your sleep, unconsciously leaning into his touch, the action had a smile tugging at his lips. He lowers himself until his lips press on to yours, he applies just enough pressure so he won't accidentally wake you up.

It ended as quickly as it started, he's not satisfied but he wants you awake so he can feel you kissing him back. He would have to wait a handful of hours which makes him a little mad, wanting nothing more than to kiss you, but for now he'd settle for a quick peck. Settling down beside you on the bed, he throws an arm over your waist and pulls you close to his body before letting slumber take over. Tomorrow can't come soon enough.

Leviathan sometimes found it difficult to fall asleep, especially after consecutive days of staying up til the wee hours of the morning just to finish a new game he bought from Akuzon. The nights he has trouble falling asleep were either spent gaming or rewatching episodes of his favorite anime, however, he didn't feel like doing anything tonight, as surprising as that is. Rarely does he experience nights where he only has energy to idly swipe through photos on his gallery, reliving past experiences in his mind in an attempt to lull himself to sleep.

It seems tonight is another one of those nights. Where his body is fatigued but his mind is wide awake. The adrenaline of the shooter game he had stayed up all night playing for the past couple of days is still in his system, his fingers lightly trembling and still remembering the anxiousness of when he faced off with a player who's skill is way above his own. A fierce match where only one would come out victorious, Levi was determined to win at all costs.

He emerged as the victor in the end, a feat worth celebrating for him. He had thrown his fist in the air, his upper body turning to face the bean bag situated on his right with a grin only to falter when he sees no one there. Right, it's 3am, of course you're not gonna be with him in his room. It's fine, he can celebrate by himself! Sadly, the euphoria didn't last long, diminishing as quickly as it had came and leaving him with an odd sense of loss despite winning the round. He sighs. If you had been beside him, he wouldn't have to experience this feeling. He lays on his back, hands splayed on either side of his body and closes his eyes for a moment.

A knock on the other side of his door startles him. Tilting his head upward, he blinks at the door in slight confusion. Who would swing by his room at this hour? Other than Lucifer, no one else would go out of their way to visit him at roughly 3 in the morning, well, you perhaps but you'd only do that if you had a reason to. Suddenly standing upright, Levi rushes to the door immediately, almost tripping over his own feet in the process.

He swings the door open only to come face to face with the person he wanted to see. A smile quickly finds its way on his lips, eyes lighting up upon seeing you standing in front of him. He was just about to usher you in his room, eager to have you all to himself at this late hour, when your choice of words made him stop in his tracks. It's impressive how a mere five words from you had managed to make him malfunction, mind blank, face flushed red, eyes wide and mouth agape at your sudden confession of love towards him.

"I wish you loved me..."

"Y-yo-you-- w-what?! H-huh??? I must be hearing things from the lack of sleep, ri-right? You didn't really say that you- you love me?" Embarrassment, is that what he's feeling? No, that shouldn't be right. Why is he embarrassed when he's not the one confessing his feelings?

The redness of his cheeks and his frantic attempts to convince both you and himself that you misspoke made the situation a lot more complicated than it was supposed to be. Had you been in the right state of mind, you would have already teased him for acting as such but with the alcohol still in your system, all you could do is silently wobble on your feet which only caused Levi to panic even further, your lack of response only worsening the confrontation.

Before he can form a cohesive thought, you stumbled forwards and fell right on top of him. The sudden impact of your body crashing against his made him stumble on his own feet, causing for the two of you to fall in a heap of tangled limbs on the floor. Any words spoken after fell upon deafened ears as you quickly fell asleep despite the awkward position you're both in. Had Levi not been malfunctioning at that moment, he would have registered how you subtly clung to him unconsciously and softly hummed. It took more than a handful of minutes before he gained the courage to move you off of him, gently prying off your arms and sitting upright, eyes darting anywhere but on you. With his face as flushed red, he couldn't muster the courage to even glance at you despite you being unconscious.

All he could manage was shutting the door with his foot and covering his face with his hands. Hundreds of thoughts plagued his mind but none of them were coherent enough to voice out, though even if he did speak you wouldn't be able to hear him anyway. He replayed your words over and over in his head, the blush on his cheeks becoming darker the more he does so, yet no matter how many times he recalls it, he still can't make himself believe that it actually happened.

As if he were put under a spell, the second his eyes lands on your sleeping face all thoughts leave his mind and all he could do is silently stare. The trance is broken not a minute later and he's back to freaking out internally. Although his mind is a mess, he knows one things for certain, he will have to give you an answer when you wake up. He needs to. How could he not when you mustered the courage to say the words he wanted to say but couldn't.

Late night reading is a hobby Satan enjoys. The silence when everyone else has gone to bed, though at times may feel lonely, feels like a comforting embrace for him in an odd way. He doesn't mind the loud, boisterous laughter, and the usual yells and banter from the House Of Lamentation's residents, however there are times where he seeks solace in the absence of it all. As he sits on the floor surrounded by heaps of leather bound books, rays of moonlight shining through the thin glass of the only visible window, he basks in the silence and familiarity of the sight.

The musty scent of old books had long since etched itself into the corners of his room, despite how others would negatively comment about it he finds it welcoming, calming even. It's a scent he finds familiar, an aroma he wouldn't find anywhere else but in his room or in the library he frequents.

All too often Satan becomes too engrossed in the books he reads, what was meant to be a quick late night reading turns into an all nighter and only when the sounds of chatter and footsteps echo outside his door does he realize how long it has been since he picked up the book. Although he makes an effort to do it less, he can't help it if the book is too good to put down. Though, it seems tonight he can't seem to find a good one. He has piles upon piles of leather bound books surrounding him, yet not a single one piqued his interest.

He scans the sea of literature occupying the space of his room once more in a last attempt to find something worthwhile. A familiar book catches his eye, the same one he read to you the last time you spent time together. A novel that told the story of a young prince seeking for an old friend who he thought have gone missing only to realize she went into hiding to escape her pursuers. A tale filled with adventure and potential romance, full of cliches and overused tropes. It's not the type of novel he would usually read, though he had picked it out because he thought you would like it.

The book felt light in his hands, it's not too thick but not too thin either. He contemplates reading the novel again, it won't take long to read through it in one sitting and it would be nice to recall your reactions on certain scenes you either found odd or interesting, or scenes you said were the most memorable despite the overuse of romcom tropes. He still recalls which lines made you smile, the dialogue that made you laugh, and he especially can't forget how you smiled so fondly at him, how your eyes held adoration as they stared into his own when he finished reading out the last line of the book.

He holds the book in one hand and pulls himself up with the other, deciding to continue his late night reading on his bed. Before he could settle down on the mattress, a resounding knock from the other side of his door caught his attention. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, realizing who might be standing in the hall waiting for him to answer the door. Other than you, no one else would pay him a visit at such an odd hour. Although you usually notified him beforehand, there were times where you'd drop by unannounced and he has no qualms with a late night visit so long as he gets to spend time with you.

"I wish you loved me..."

It all happened too quickly. One moment he's holding the door open with a smile, the next you're passed out in his arms after a sudden confession of your feelings. In the absence of his brothers' racket, your voice sounded deafening in his ears. He takes a moment to process what he just heard, trying to wrap his head around the fact that you had just told him you love him and wished he reciprocated your feelings.

You had just said the words he wanted to hear, though it didn't go how he expected it to he's still glad that it happened. He shifts to the side to close the door and carries your unconscious body towards the bed, gently laying you over the mattress. He worries he might accidentally wake you up so he tries to move slowly, pressing his left against the edge of the bed whilst using his right hand to adjust the pillow under your head, it'd be bad if you woke up with a sore neck tomorrow. He was about to pull back and leave you be when you shifted in your sleep and grabbed hold of his wrist with one hand.

The action catches him off guard. He isn't sure if you're awake or if it's an unconscious response, but the thought that you didn't want him to leave made his heart skip a beat. He chuckles softly, "How can I leave when you're clinging to me like so?"

Despite the late hour and the strong scent of alcohol coming from you, Satan couldn't be happier. The words he longed to hear have finally been said, although he's a bit upset that he wasn't given the chance to respond to your confession. He knows he can tell you how he truly feels once you arouse the next day so for now he'll gladly oblige with your request and keep you company. Laying down on his side, he silently admires your appearance.

"I should've said something sooner..." His spoke softly, voice barely audible as he brings his hand to your cheek, gently pushing back locks of hair from your eyes, "...then maybe you wouldn't have had to resort to alcohol to gain the courage to confess."

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