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irishmammonagenda · 2 months

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Death is a Debatable Thing-Obey Me x Reader

Summary: MC died 😱 and reincarnated as an angel, as per usual; chaos ensues. Word Count: 6.9k Warnings: Mention of Death, Cursing, Torture (mentioned, no torture happens) Michael is featured heavily in this, I just made up a personality for him, I don't play NB a lot (it makes me too sad) and I think he shows up there so if this is different to how he's portrayed there then L for me. Everyone except Luke was written as and can be read as Romantic(/platonic if you prefer)You can read Michael as Romantic, but I wrote him more Platonically.

post dividers from @saradika-graphics on tumblr (their dividers r really cool check them out if u havent fr (sorry for tagging you btw i just wanted to give credit)

"Absolutely not." You say, looking at your new found wings. "I did not die just to be reincarnated with the ugliest clothing I've ever seen."

"Would you have preferred to have been reincarnated as bare as Eve was in Eden?" The man you'd come to know as Michael. His dark skin shone in the blessed light of the celestial realm, his thick curly hair was pinned back in such a delicate fashion you wanted to unpin all the ornaments in it. Your fingers twitched at your sides.

"Isn't that against modesty rules or something...?" You paused, Simeon was an angel, he essentially had his ass out at all times anyway. Whore.

Michael stares at you weirdly, before playing with one of the loose strands of his hair, pulling the tight coil until it was completely straight before letting go and letting it spring back up again. Now you really wanted to mess up his hair. Just to annoy him.

"So anyway..." You start, sitting on a cloud that you fall through. For a moment you think you're about to pull a Lucifer and fall through the sky, but you manage to grab onto something and pull yourself up. That something is Michael's ankle and he's laughing at you, wiping a tear from ruby red eyes that shine just like that of his fallen brother.

"Stop laughing at me! Anyway, when can i go to the Devildom?" You inquire, watching Michael's face turn stern. He glares down at where you're lying, still gripping his ankle

"You're not returning to the Devildom anytime soon." He says sharply.

Your breath hitches. "Why not?! I have to let the brothers and Dia and Barbs and Sol and everyone else know I didn't die!"

"You did die. Why do you think you're an angel." Michael sighs, "and no. You're not letting them know you've returned."

"Why not?!" You repeat, outraged. "No offence though MC, but you´ve just died." "So?" You reply with indignation. "So," Michael says in a mocking tone, pitching his deep voice up high before letting it fall down the octaves once more. "You're barely able to walk on clouds or do anything yet. Letting you down to the Devildom is the equivalent of sending a baby bird into a den of lions."

"But...they'd protect me." You said softly, Michael's tone softens as well, laying a gentle hand on your shoulder.

"They'd also over-protect you, they've just lost you. I don't think you're ready for that smothering just after your death."

You nod. Michael's soft expression turns devious, "Plus, this way, you have plenty of time to think about how youre going to scare my broth-...the brothers and everyone else whilst proving you're alive...well an angel..."

You grin too. "Amazing point Mr Michael."

He plays with his golden locks again, an idiosyncracy. "Anytime" He grins before beginning to walk again, you grab onto his ankle tighter. "Oh and Mc?"

"Yeah?"

"Call me Mr Michael again and I'm shaving all you hair off. And trust me. Angel hair does not grow back." He smiles evilly. You shudder.

Well it turns out Michael is a fucking liar.

After being a little bit too bored during your second month of being an angel and first month of learning not to fall through the clouds in Michael's private garden that consists purely of clouds and a singular harp he stole from some poor Irish Deity, you go bored and snipped your unnaturally long angel hair up to your waist. You didn't want to go too short just yet.

In the time frame of a week you learnt two things.

One: Angel hair does grow back, maybe a tiny bit faster than human hair, and Two, Michael was babysitting the harp. Turns out the Deity was called the Dagda and he was visiting France on holidays for some reason, poor man, having to go to France and deal with all the French People there. Turns out he left the harp in Michael's hands, something about Fomoranians not being smart enough to see this one coming.

You just nodded and slowly backed away. Michaels red eyes followed you. He and Lucifer had to be twins.

Another day passed. The more you thought about it, the more Michael and Lucifer had to be twins. After having cut your hair to just below your shoulders, you found a piece of unnecessarily fancy parchment paper and a quill on Michael's desk

Holding the black quill in your hands you felt a sense of familiarity wash over you. Was that?....

No fucking way.

Michael was using one of Lucifer's feathers as a quill. You cackled.

After much deliberation you'd realised you could not write with a quill, but also that you were very good at ripping paper and making blotches of ink on said paper with a quill.

You decided to snoop in Michael's desk for a pen, instead you found a drawer titled, 'LUKE ONLY' in cursive letters, the label was stuck to the drawer so obviously you opened it.

Colouring books, letters written by Luke from the Devildom, Report Cards, Crayons, Drawings, and a pack of stickers were left in the drawer, a notepad lay next to it, Michael's cursive handwriting all over it 'Activities to do', it had things like 'Bowling' and 'Baking' and 'Gardening' and 'Teach him how to knit' and 'Arts and Crafts' and 'Prank Jesus' and 'Take him to Human Realm Cinema' and and anything else really. You cooed, your ivory wings rustling happily.

You grabbed a crayon and began to write.

WHY MICHAEL AND LUCI ARE TWINS one; same eyes two; both evil three; both hot four; satan is basically luci's son if you think about it and michael has blond hair too, if luci and michael are twins that means that blond hair is in the gene pool and thats how satn has blond hair even though luci has black hair five; both like wearing dramatic cape coat things six; both of them baby luke seven; they ha

"What are you doing?" Michael asks, startling you, and ruining your next point of 'they have hands', "Why is my drawer open?" He grabs the parchment from you, reads it and bellows out in laughter.

"We are twins you could've asked." He smiled, "also put the crayon back thats Red and Luke likes colouring in Teddy Bears red."

"Yessir."

You were a master conspiracy theorist.

In the end, you and Michael had decided on visiting the Devildom for 'diplomatic' reasons, but upon seeing the glint in his eyes it was probably more for 'dicklomatic' reasons seeing as he's an utter dickhead.

You had a veil covering your face, seeing as you were still kind of legally and widely believed to be dead.

You know, the usual.

You walked behind Michael, attempting to kick at the back of his knees, it never worked sadly. You took a deep breath as you reached the RAD council room doors.

Michael grabs you by your shoulders whispering into your ear. "Now remember MC im going to use you as a bargaining tool, so keep that veil on till i say so, got it?" He grins.

You nod, knowing that 'bargaining tool' in Michaelish translates to 'im bored and want to see a dramatic reunion'

Michael opens the doors.

You walk in with him but stand at the door awkwardly, steeling yourself so you don't immediately run into any of your idiots' arms.

Luke apparently had the same idea, as when he saw Michael, he let out a happy 'yip!' kind of sound similar to a puppy's and then ran from where he stood beside Simeon and Solomon into the Archangel's arms.

Michael catches him happily, petting his head as the young angel nuzzles into his hair, blabbering on about who knows what. Asmo takes a photo of it, everyone else stares with varying levels of fondness, awkwardness and 'meh'.

Sadly for you however, once Simeon is done greeting Michael, and Michael is now distracted by Luke introducing him to Barbatos who is apparently the 'bestest baker in the world!' (you could agree with that sentiment), Simeon walked over to you, his serene smile on his face.

"Hello, I'm Simeon, forgive me for asking, but do I know you? You have a familiar aura."

You shake your head.

"Oh, never the matter" Simeon smiles, "What's your name then. my friend?"

You clear your throat and put on a deep american accent, "Rupert...Pleasure to meet you...Simeon.."

"Are you sure we haven't met before?"

"Certain." You say in the same ridiculous voice.

Simeon nods, he excuses himself after Solomon calls him over, you turn to glance at Michael who is carrying a now sleeping Luke in his arms and gently stroking the boy's golden hair while stressing out Lucifer with questions. Satan looks on with a smirk on his face.

Glancing around the room you see similar scenes, Mammon and Levi are playing a game on the latter's switch, Asmo, Solomon and Simeon are talking, sometimes glancing at you. Barbatos and Diavolo were watching Michael annoy Lucifer, with both sometimes adding their input, causing Michael to laugh loudly then stiffle it, so as not to wake up the sleeping baby in his arms. Beel and Belphie were near the others but still off in their own twin world, Belphie was awake and watching Michael bully Lucifer from where his head laying sleepily on his twin's leg.

Raphael, Thirteen and Mephisto had been sent out on a top secret mission the day before, Michael had said it was because he didnt want to die and also did not want his death to be put in the RAD Newspapers, especially a picture of him that was less than flattering.

Even though everyone seemed joyous, you noticed an air of sadness, like something was missing. Looking at your old seat in the student council you see the amount of flowers set on it.

Against your better judgement, you walk towards it. Not noticing a few pairs of eyes following you.

When you reach your former desk, you notice a photo of you framed, it was you and everyone, a family photo, everyone was either in their demon, angel or reaper forms, you wore really cheap red horns with a halo you shoved on one of them whilst also wearing an old reaper robe. It looked ridiculous, you loved it.

"Enjoying yourself? Rupert.~" a honeyed voice startles you. Asmo, although, somethings in his voice, maybe anger, maybe suspicion.

"Uhhh.." You say in your fake american accent.

"I'm Asmodeus, avatar of lust.~ Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Guess so." You shrug Americanly, thankful once more the veil covers your whole face.

Asmo's eyes have some hurt in them, he seems...catty, probably because you, who he thinks is a random stranger is just standing at his dead loved one's desk.

You open your mouth to say something, but no sound comes out, especially not when another familiar voice is added to the mix.

"Well hello. I don't believe we've met before. The name's Solomon. You must've heard of me."

Oh shit.

"Oh...I have, briefly! Hello Solomon, my name's Robert." You say in your fake deep american accent voice.

Asmo tilts his head, "I thought your name was Rupert?"

Shit.

"Oh. Yes" You quickly bullshit, "My name's got the hyphens, Robert-Rupert." You avoid eye contact despite the fact you have a veil covering your face that only lets you see out of it, so the sorcerer and demon can't even make eye contact with you, even if they wanted to.

This was getting awkward.

"You seem very familiar Robert-Rupert." Solomon says, you did not like that crafty smile.

"I get that a lot." You nod before walking away.

You walk towards Michael who, has a now awake but sleepy Luke in his arms, he sits on one of the sofas in the council room beside Simeon, with Barbatos, Diavolo and Lucifer facing them on the other sofa. Atleast you'll be safe from Solomon over here. As you walk, you notice Satan, Beel and Belphie have left. Either Lucifer was going to get pranked or Lucifer was going to get pranked but not as prankily because Beel unknowingly made puppy-eyes. Mammon and Levi were bickering quietly in a corner (shocking they could do it quietly) about who won the lat round of Devilio kart.

When Michael saw you approaching he waved you over, beckoning you to sit down in the empty space beside him, "This is an angel I'm currently training, their name is.....Steven."

Simeon tilts his head "I thought their name was Rupert?"

Michael clears his throat awkwardly.

You make your voice the deep horrible American accent, "My full name is Robert-Rupert-Steven...it's hyphenated."

Michael nods aggressively.

Lucifer, Simeon, and Barbatos side-eye eachother. Something was going on here.

"So, Robert-Rupert-Steven," Barbatos begins, his polite smile a little jagged at the edges, "I saw you at MC's desk earlier, how so?"

At the mention of your actual name, everyone there tenses up, Luke, thankfully is too sleepy to have realised, Michael quickly stands up with the small angel in his strong arms, knowing if he heard the conversation about to occur he would be upset, "I should probably go, give this one a walk around to wake him up a little. Simeon, would you like to come with me?"

Simeon nods, Michael and Him leave the council room, with Luke sleepily holding both of their hands and walking slowly along with them.

Now you were stuck with the Prince of the Devildom, the Scary Butler and the Scary Single-Dad. All of which haven't realised that it's you, and all of which thinking you are a random stranger.

"Well, Robert-Rupert-Steven?" Diavolo asks, his friendly demeanor the tiniest bit strange,"What captivated you to go towards MC's desk."

"Who's MC?" You decide to play it dumb. Bad decision, seeing as all three stiffen, Barbatos' being the most unnoticeable.

A very long 3 hour conversation went by, wherein, Diavolo, Lucifer, Barbatos as well as a certain Mammon and Levi who joined 10 minutes in, and an Asmo and Solomon who joined 12 minutes in talked about you, for 3 hours straight.

'AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.' was an accurate reprenstation of your mental state actually.

The urge to just rip your veil off right there was almost stronger than the urge to dropkick Maddi anytime you remembered she existed. Keyword being almost.

You just about made it out of the council room with your life. Now for your master plan. Scare the absolute shit out of the Anti-Lucifer-League. That'll get them back for never listening to your amazing prank suggestion of leaving random origami swans around the house in random spots. It was genius!

Breaking into the House of Lamentation was always easy when you knew that Mammon hid his emergency house key behind the garden gnome that now you saw it....kind of looked like a really bad rendition of Michael. With its dark skin, A DnD-esque robe and, a horrible smiley face painted on it, and the worst crime of all, bright yellow, almost neon hair, and also a princess tiara.

You almost cackled.

Taking the key you slowly open the door to the kitchen and sneakily sneak in. Sadly for you, it was they key to the kitchen door to the outside of the back of the house, which meant it opened in the kitchen, and since it opened in the kitchen, you awkwardly waved at Beel, who was having a midnight feast.

Beel tilts his head. "You're the Angel from earlier. What are you doing here?"

You once more, fake your Robert-Rupert-Steven voice and say, "I have Materials for the Anti-Lucifer League as they've suggested."

You are such a good liar.

"Oh," Beel nods, normally he wouldn't let a stranger into the house, but something felt...familiar...and safe with you. "Okay then, do you know where you're going?"

"Yes."

Beel nods, and goes back to eating the pudding labelled 'MAMMONS: BEEL DONT TOUCH THESE'

After much searching, you do not find the Anti-Lucifer-League, but you do unfortunately, open the door to Lucifer's office. The place where Lucifer currently is.

He looks up immediately on guard. You are not prepared to die a second time,

"What are you-" He begins, in demon form and standing up.

You interrupt him, making 'woooooh!' sounds and waving your arms about, and in your Robert-Rupert-Steven voice, you say "Wooooh! I am the....ghost of christmas past!...Woooh! and I am..." You pause, not noticing your Robert-Rupert-Steven voice has began to slip away, and your natural one has taken its place. "I am here to tell youuuuu.....to woohhhh! Take breaks more! Woooh!....and not overwork yourself! Woooh!"

Lucifer pauses, the danger in his eyes fades into disbelief. He knows that voice. He's spent the better part of a year listening to recordings of that voice and praying to his Father for the first time since the celestial war for that voice to return to him.

"..MC?.."

You've been found out. Quickly you put your Robert-Rupert-Steven voice back on, except it's gone up 12 pitches. "Who's MC?! Haha! What a weird thing to sa-"

You don't get to finish, as Lucifer pulls your veil off. His breath hitches upon seeing your face.

Your covers been blown. All because you pretended to be the ghost of Christmas past. Great.

Lucifer immediately pulls you into a hug, arms tightening around you, as if he's afraid you'd disappear. He chuckles, wiping tears from his eyes, his frame shakes. "I thought-thought I'd lost you forever...I always thought your face was angelic...-...it's fitting."

You hug him just as tightly.

But ever the menace, after about an hour or so, you look up at the Avatar of Pride, "Say, Luci?"

"Yes, my dove?"

"Wanna help me prank the rest of them?"

"Perhaps...I might help with...some setups..." He pauses, "You are telling Barbatos outright though."

You shudder. "Of course I am. I don't have a second deathwish."

Lucifer's grip on you tightens slightly, you kiss his cheek in apology. "Sorry," You grin, "Too soon?"

"Try again in another century dear."

The next day, the first thing you and Lucifer do is travel to the Demon Lord´s Castle.

Barbatos greets you in the Entrance Hall, "Oh, Lucifer," He nods in greeting at the eldest of the brothers (second eldest actually, seeing as Michael enjoys bragging that he's older by a whopping total of 2 minutes) he turns to you, who put the veil back on, "And Robert-Rupert-Steven, Welcome to the Demon Lord's Castle, although, I must ask, why you have shown up today?"

In your Robert-Rupert-Steven voice, you accidentally, against your better judgement, and rather impulsively state; "I'm here to assassinate Dia-...volo."

A portal opens, dragging you through it, and you land in the feared rumoured dungeons. Barbatos follows gracefully, now in Demon Form. Leaving a sighing Lucifer in his wake in the Entrance Hall. He decides to just journey to Diavolo's office and discuss things related to work. Barbatos wouldn't hurt you when he found out it was you so he really had nothing to worry about. Maybe you'd finally learn to stop joking about assassinating Diavolo, especally when other Noble Demons were around at Balls.

Sadly for you, you were now alone in Barbatos' Dungeons. Now what's scarier than being alone in Barbatos' Dungeons? Being alone with Barbatos in Barbatos' dungeons.

Time to run away.

As it turns out, running away isn't very easy when magic chains pin you to the wall. In your panic, you blurt out, "You know, I'd rather you pin me to the wall haha!" in your normal voice. The fear forcing your horrible puns and jokes to slip out.

Barbatos, who had been approaching menacingly calmly with a torture device pauses so fast it gives you whiplash. (Better than getting whiplash from the whip he was previously holding.)

In some display akin to a cockroach kind of squirming about after you crush it, in your chained up state you manage to twitch enough that you were able to pinch a piece of your veil's fabric just enough that it falls to the ground.

Immediately, the magic chains fall away, strong arms catch you as you stumble. "Hi Barbs..." You say breathlessly.

Barbatos looks like he'd seen a ghost. (You were an Angel, thank you very much.) After your death he had tried and tried to pull a you from another dimension. It would never work, some force stopped him each time. (To be fair, it was probably your jealous ass. No way in Diavolo were you being replaced by yourself from another dimension.)

His bottom lip trembles, much like the rest of his body, as he leans in, "May I, my dear?" You nod, giving him your consent as he kisses you so gently, as if he feared you would break or fade away.

He murmurs apology upon apology for the fact he had no doubt frightened you, he couldn't risk a threat to Diavolo, your 'death' had left him a little...tethered and emotional.

You close your eyes and kiss him again, now noticing you're in the kitchens and not in the spooky scary dungeon.

"Wanna bake cookies? Like we always used to do?"

Barbatos nods softly. "You do have to tell Lord Diavolo you're actually alive though, little lamb."

Your eyes light up. "We could make a cake! And hide me inside it!"

Barbatos sighs, but looking at your puppy eyes, he agrees. Gently he picks a stray ivory feather from your wings, making them rustle at the touch. Devil...you looked angelic.

Baking with Barbatos was always fun, but sadly he did not agree with your attempt at throwing flour at him.

"MC?" He catches your attention, bringing an ungloved hand to caress your face, "Have I ever told you that you shine brighter than all the stars in the Devildom?"

You blush and try to cover your face when he turns away to add more eggs into your batter only to find flour on your face. That sneaky bastard! Psychological warfare is illegal. And that sure felt like it.

It was on.

Apparently it was only on for you though. Though you did get a speck of flour on Barbatos' apron. That was a win, especially if you ignore the fact that your face and apron were covered in the white powder, which you were ignoring! So take that Barbatos!

In the end, the cake was beautiful, Barbatos helped you into the cake, and cut out a you shaped hole out of the layers made.

He then helped you out again, and the Flour War began again only this time with icing.

Hiding in a cake is quite a fun experience. Especially when you can take bites of your hiding space. Yum yum.

You feel Barbatos' wheeling of you stop as he reaches Diavolo's office, he knocks on the door, and as you requested, begins to film on his DDD (you had to promise the video would never get out of your hands.)

Diavolo sat alone, Lucifer had had to leave an hour before, Beel had went on a rampage in Hell's Kitchen again apparently.

"My Lord, I feel you have been feeling down, so here is a treat." Barbatos says, "And as a special treat, I will allow you to cut it yourself." He nods at Diavolo who you can just picture has stars in his eyes as you hear the demon butler walk to a corner of the room, still filming.

Diavolo brings the knife to the cake, as it cuts into it, you grab the blade and pull it forward. Upon hearing Divaolo's confused murmurs, You peek through the tiny hole the knife made, seeing Diavolo distracted, tilting his head like a child and asking Barbatos what he should do now.

You however know what you should do now.

Quick as a flash, you shove your hands through the cake, reach for Diavolo's arms and pull him in face first.

You didn't even care if it was probably treason. Diavolo's suprised screaming and Barbatos' slight surprised chuckle was so worth it.

It was worth it for Diavolo even after 4 hours, as he held you in his big arms, whilst the both of you were still covered in cake. Barbatos, the traitor, snapped photos of this and sent them to Lucifer.

On a great note, Diavolo agreed to help prank the rest of the brothers with you, much to Barbatos' dismay. (The butler was definitely going to help you with a certain sorcerer, however)

After a night and day at the castle and a very extensive bath, you recollected your veil, and snuck out (read: Barbatos and Diavolo waved goodbye to you and gave you some left over cake for the journey home) of the castle, you began your walk to Purgatory Hall.

Michael was staying there, and you needed to tell him everyone's reactions so far.

It was also a Saturday, meaning that Solomon would be out in Sorcerer's society meetings all night and morning.

When you got there you made use of the tree there and climbed up it until you saw something in Luke's room. You paused your climbing and looked in through the window.

Two figures were in the Young Angel's room.

As Luke lay tucked in in his bed, cuddling the dog plushie that Mammon had given him at a carnival last year that he claims to have thrown away, Michael and Simeon sat on his bed, the nightlight on the boy's bedside table created a gentle glow that the two elder were using to read the storybook strew across both of their laps aloud, they appeared to be acting it out ever so slightly. When Luke finally drifted off. Both Angels kissed his forehead then dimmed the nightlight down slightly, dim enough where it wouldn't hurt the boy's eyes but bright enough that the dark wouldn't scare him if he woke up in the middle of the night, keeping the curtains open for added light.

You cooed silently, your white wings rustling.

Snapping out of it, you scale across the wall before finding the spare room Michael was staying in and breaking in.

"Hello Motherfucker." You greet the Archangel.

"You couldn't pay me to fuck your mother."

"Harsh. And here I was about to tell you my escapades..." You sigh dramatically. Michael immediately smiles sweetly. Buttering you up. You cave.

After about an hour of Michael laughing at you specifically, and then changing your contact to 'ghost of christmas past' the bastard finally fell asleep.

Feeling thirsty, you snuck downstairs into the kitchen to get a drink, and also a sharpie so you could draw a mustache on Michael's face. Not bothering to put your veil on seeing as no one would be awake anyway.

As you filled up a glass of water and leaned against the kitchen counter drinking it, lost in your own plans, mainly of who to prank nest and how to do it.

You don't hear the little pitter-patter of feet until it's too late.

"MC?" A sleepy Luke stands in the doorway in cat themed pajamas no doubt gifted to him by a certain someone, he holds his dog plush loosely as he rubs his eyes with a tiny fist.

He walks slowly towards the cupboard, pouting sleepily when he realises he can't reach it, you immediately grab his favourite mug,(the one with the red tractor on it) knowing to put milk and some sugar in it before placing it in the microwave for 2 minutes.

Luke walks over to you still half asleep, resting his face on your side, you bring him in for a hug. "Simeon said you went to a happy place after you left, he always got sad when I asked when you were coming home..."

You bite your lip and speak softly, "My flight got delayed for a little while," You lie. Luke didn't need to know you died, Simeon hadn't told him in the best of ways to shield the young boy, that worked out in your favour.

You catch the microwave before it beeps, taking the warm milk out and stirring the hot-spots out of it before handing it to Luke. With his teddy now in the crook of his elbow, he sleepily took the mug before putting his tiny hand in yours.

"C'mon Luke, let's get you back to bed." You say softly, he nods tiredly.

"Will you tuck me in? And read me a bedtime story?" He yawns quietly.

"Of course."

After closing his curtains and tucking Luke in, he snuggles up to you and you read him a bedtime story, after drinking his warm milk, he falls asleep quite quickly, so do you.

A mistake, really. Seeing as in the morning when Simeon comes in to wake the small angel up and sees you there he lets out a shriek very out-of-character for him.

A shriek which wakes both you and Luke up.

Luke smiles toothily, "Oh Simeon! MC came back last night! Did you not see?"

Simeon collects himself, "I must've been asleep Luke, why don't you get dressed then come down for breakfast? Michael and I made pancakes. M-MC, why don't you come downstairs now?"

Luke nods and gets up dutifully.

As soon as you leave the room and Simeon is sure you're both out of the earshot of Luke, he pulls you into a hug which you return.

"I thought I'd lost you.." He breathes out softly.

"Me? C'mon Simmy...you know I'd never let death keep me." You laugh, he laughs breathlessly.

"I suppose not...." He captures your lips in a soft innocent kiss before leading you downstairs, hand-in-hand.

When Michael sees the two of you he offers you a pancake, far too casually for Simeon's taste.

Simeon looks between the two of you and glares at Michael. "You knew about this."

"Haha! Funny story actually! I need to go help Jesus! He's gone and ventured into another desert!" Michael laughs nervously before booking it, only coming back when Luke appears, knowing then he's safe from Simeon's wrath....

....for now.

You took out your super serious napkin and crayon that you stole from Diavolo (read: Diavolo gave you) and crossed out Simeon's name.

Your list was now as follows:

Purgatory Hall Simeon Solomon House of Lamentation Mammon Levi Satan Asmo Beel Belphie

For Satan and Belphie, you could knock out two Anti-Lucifer-League Birds with one stone. It felt a little mean to prank prank Levi and Beel...Mammon and Asmo were debatable, but you were going all out on Solomon. That'll teach him to turn you into a sheep that one time 2 years ago.

After careful deliberation and planning, (20 seconds of thinking.) You'd decided to sneak into the Sorceror's society and jokingly attempt to assassinate Solomon, and maybe fully assassinate Maddi if she was there. Not maybe, definitely.

Veil over your head, you walked in, when the sorcerer guards stopped you, you just pretended to be Michael then walked further in. Apparently they were terrified of the Archangel. Damn this society needs better sorcerers securitying it.

After stealing schedules you realised Solomon would be in a meeting right now with a bunch of no names. Oh well.

You crept into the meeting and attempted to plunge the butter knife Barbatos' gave you from the castle kitchens specifically for this in his neck, knowing he'd dodge. "This is for the Sheep Potion you Rat Bastard!" You screech like a Bean Sídhe. After half a millisecond of shock and slight anger, Solomon realises who it is behind the veil, laughing he grabs the arm you're holding the butter knife in and drags you into his lap, gently ripping the veil off of you and giving you a peck on the forehead, before he turns to the shocked and slack-jawed sorcerers that looked older than he did. "Sorry all, my adorable partner," He puncuates the word partner by pulling you closer to him, "missed me a little too much. and has-" He kisses you on the lips passionately for a moment, leaving you very much breathless and him very much chuckling, "-strange ways of showing their affection."

Bastard.

Some time into the meeting you whisper, "How are you not more shocked?"

"Well Robert-Rupert," He whispers teasingly back to you, "Remember that binding spell we did back when you were alive? It never broke. I knew the moment I saw you."

Your heart stops. "Did you tell anyone else?"

"I debated telling Asmo, but I suppose you wanted to on your own terms." He teases.

"I should've tried to stab you with a sharper knife."

Solomon laughs, "Oh and MC my love?"

"Hmm?"

His eyes glint predatorily, "You look absolutely ravishing as an angel. I can't help but want to corrupt you..."

You bury your face in his chest to hide your blush.

Bastard.

On the bright side, now a rumour that Solomon the Wise and Michael the Archangel are secret lovers has spread around the Devildom. You're counting that as a win.

Purgatory Hall Simeon Solomon House of Lamentation Mammon Levi Satan Asmo Beel Belphie

After your encounter with Solomon, you'd decided learning to just hide your angel form was the best course of action. Luckily it was fucking easy and you could've done it ages ago. Strange how Simeon and Luke never mentioned it....meh. You're pretty sure Luke just thought Michael thought you were super cool so he made you an angel. You weren't telling him anything otherwise.

´Satan and Belphie watch your fucking backs.´ was the pedal note of all your thoughts currently, you´d snuck back into the House of Lamentation, thankfully Beel was not in the kitchen, he was at Fangol at this hour.

Walking through the halls stealthily, you heard whispers as two sets of feet seemed to enter the room at the farthest end of the hallway. Lucifer´s room.

You fucking caught them.

No time to be caught in Lucifer´s room, seeing as if you were there long enough and Lucifer caught you, you would not be leaving for a good while.

So you crept up to the attic, the official Anti-Lucifer-League headquarters, you climbed the pillars to get on the roof and you waited.

Sure enough, ten minutes later, snickering could be heard coming up to the attic. Satan opens the door, letting Belphie in, both brothers in various fits of sniggering as they walk into the room.

"He'll never see this one coming!" "This is our best one yet."

From your place on the attic ceiling, you spot Lucifer filming on his DDD from the shadows of the doorway. Of course he found out about this.

"Of course it's our best one yet!"

You swing down off of the ceiling beam, swinging lightly upside down. "And you didn't invite me?" You pout.

Satan and Belphie scream, clutching onto eachother, before noticing that it's you and running to pull you down and clutch onto you instead. You notice Lucifer chuckle and put his DDD in his pocket before leaving. Traitor.

You cuddle into your two Anti-Lucifer League Brethren, maybe this wasn't so bad. (Of course it wasn't, you loved your idiots.)

Safe to say, you didn't leave the attic for a long time. Apparently people need time to process that you're not actually dead. What madness.

House of Lamentation Mammon Levi Satan Asmo Beel Belphie

You had long unentangled yourself with a sleeping Belphie and Satan, making sure to leave a:

it wasnt a dream dont worry lads im alive.

note on their chests just in case.

Sitting in the attic with your napkin and crayon in hand, you ripped the Purgatory Hall part off of it and used the back of it for that note, you scanned through the list. You should save your First Man for last, so your next options were Beel, Asmo and Levi.

Seeing as you've shown yourself to Belphie, it's only natural your gentle giant is next.

Watch your fucking back Beel. Literally

Speaking of, it's been a few hours, Beel should be coming back from Fangol practice any moment now.

As was routine at this point, you crept through the House of Lamentation's halls and quickly ran into Beel and Belphie's shared bedroom.

As Beel walked into the room, his Fangol bag slung across his chest and a pile of after Fangol snacks in his hands, you braced yourself, made a run for it, anf landed right square on his back, arms around his neck to keep from falling.

"Oh hi MC!" Beel hummed cheerfully, before his eyes widened and he dropped his snacks. "MC?!"

"Hi!"

Quick as a flash, Beel maneuvers himself in 'dying cockroach you in Barbatos' dungeons part two' and grabs you into his arms.

"I thought you died..." He said, smelling your hair as he cuddled you.

"I did. I just came back as an angel."

"Really?" His breath hitches, "Can I see?.."

You take a deep breath and your wings and halo pop out, he strokes them gently.

"You're beautiful..." He whispers, enraptured...."I think...out of all of Father's creations over the years since the celestial war...you're the most precious...."

He speaks softly, always the gentle giant, the moment lasts for just a moment, before the moment, like all moments do, has passed. Beel's stomach rumbles and you giggle.

"You should eat your snacks, Beelie.."

"They always taste better when we share." He nods seriously.

House of Lamentation Mammon Levi Satan Asmo Beel Belphie

Levi or Asmo? You bit your crayon in thought then immediately made a face. Crayons did not taste nice.

Speaking of things that did not taste nice, you remembered that one time you tried to eat Levi's controller because you were bored.

Levi it was!

You had to time this perfectly, waiting in the shadows until Levi went down to get a snack, you snuck into his room, saying the answer to his password out of pure habit, before sitting on his gamer chair and maneuvering it in such a way he would not be able to see anyone on it from the door.

When Levi walked into his room, a bag of crisps in hand, he took a few steps before you swung around "Boo!" and he screamed. Dropping his crisps.

After convincing him you were infact not a ghost (Unlike Lucifer's), you sat with him in your arms, watching anime, and getting caught up on the new episodes released.

You cuddled up to him in his bathtub that night. You grinned evilly. This gave you an idea.

House of Lamentation Mammon LeviSatan Asmo Beel Belphie

It was no secret that Asmo bathed a lot. Funfact, Angels can hold their breath for 30 minutes!

As Asmo was busy picking out which pajamas he wanted to wear after his bath, you tiptoed behind him and slowly got in his bath, hiding under the bubbles.

It took a total of five minutes before Asmo closed the door to his bathroom and got into his bath, this was your chance! Reaching out, you grabbed his foot and pulled him under.

He screeched, when got back above the surface of the water, he grabbed your hand and pulled you over.

He squealed this time, hugging you tightly.

"Oh MC darling!~ I thought you were...well never the matter~...." He punctuated each word by kissing your face all over, leaving you squirming in his grasp out of embarassment. "How naughty!~ Sneaking into my bath like that...~...not that you arent always welcome my lovely!~"

"A-asmo," You say, your clothes soaked, though you couldn't find yourself caring. "Asmo, I love you..." your voice is soft and the Avatar of Lust coos.

It was a nice night.

Time for your final victim. Your First Man. Feeling nice, you decided not to do something too mean.

Painstakingly, you made a trial of grimm from the front door to your First Man's room, more specifically; to his bed. The plan was to hide behind the door and jumpscare him while he was busy collecting the grimm.

Unfortunately for you, seeing as you weren't sure when Mammon got off his modelling shift, you'd finished far too early, and since you and Asmo were up the entire night, you were quite sleepy.

Surely a little 5 minute nap wouldnt hurt?

You woke up hours later to a sobbing Mammon on top of you, cuddling you in his arms like his life depended on it. It seems you'd falled asleep on his bed, more specifically in his nest.

In the nest you would normally sleep in while alive. (While Human technically, seeing as you are alive, just not human.)

You bring a hand to his snowy locks, he sobs harder. Like his brother, kissing all over your face softly, "Thought I lost ye' forever Hum'n" he gasps for air, his sobs quieting down, "Though' you were gone....I prayed ev'ry nigh'...." he says, voice barely above a whisper as he strokes your cheek, looking into your eyes. "I prayed ta Fath'r ev'ry nigh' since ye' died...that he'd bring ye' back te me...."

"And he did..." You say just as softly, bringing your hand up to wipe the tears from his eyes, sharing a soft kiss with him. As always, your greedy lovable bastard would want more, and you'd want nothing more than to give them to him.

And the next day when you told Michael you'd be staying in the Devildom he cheered, then told you to include him in this 'Anti-Lucifer League business' because it 'seemed fun'.

Wow. Now you knew where Satan got it from. Poor Lucifer, he just barely got away from Michael in the Celestial realm, and now he has to deal with Michael 2.0 in the Devildom.

Satan and Michael really were kind of similar....maybe it's a good thing they've only met in passing.

Moral of the story kids. Death sucks, don't do it. If you do do it, reincarnate. Bam! Problem Solved.

This is the longest ever fic I've ever wrote and probably does not make a lot of sense so I apologise for that. I also apologise for any ooc behaviour i'm still learning how to write characterisation😔✊

also i love thinking of Michael being a father figure to Luke and its very obvious

894 notes · View notes

darlingdekarios · 8 months

Text

promise not to tell.

rating: explicit. 18+ only. length: 5,014 content: Anakin Skywalker x f!reader, established relationship, forbidden relationship, secret relationship, nightmares, gaslighting/manipulation, porn with plot, somnophilia, dacryphilia, dubious consent, smut [fingering - receiving, oral - receiving, cockwarming, unprotected p in v, multiple orgasms, orgasm control], kink(s) [choking, biting, breeding, hair pulling, blood, squirting], somewhat "dead dove do not eat" please read the content tags again!, ends in fluff

Anakin needs to occupy his mind with something other than unrelenting nightmares. it's hard for you to tell him no.

A raging fire. A cloaked figure hidden by smoke and shadow, the presence enough without a face or voice to cause a primal fear - the kind that manifested in one's physicality and tightened your chest until you were certain you couldn't breathe.

And you - the flames drawing closer as your face stared back at him, unblinking as tears streamed down your face. You were talking - whatever you were saying went unheard, your lips moving in four words repeatedly.

"It will be okay."

Until you stepped backwards, and -

It was as though he had been standing in the fire when he woke, shooting upward in bed with a thin sheen of sweat covering his overheated body, his lungs heavy as if they were full of smoke. Before he'd caught his breath he was on his feet, slipping on a robe to cover his frame before shoving his feet into boots, a destination in mind as he emerged from his door.

He was only going to your room to check on you - to put his own mind at ease of the fears that filled his mind like skeletons in a graveyard. This was the one clarity in his mind as heavy boots fell against the Temple floor, stride increasing with each step as he moved in on your room like a storm.

From the other side of the door he could focus enough on you to know you were inside, sleeping soundly with heavy, steady breaths. This is where he'd told himself he'd stop, returning to his room to meditate until the Temple rose for the day.

No matter what he'd intended all along, it was certainly not what he was doing now as he worked open your door as quietly as he could, stepping inside swiftly. He wasn't thinking clearly - not when he slipped his boots from his feet and walked silently to you, his unseen expression softening in the starlight glow of your room as his eyes found your bliss filled face.

His only focus was finding the only true comfort he could in this moment, and finding it once again in you.

What could quiet his mind better than the feeling of you responding to him even in sleep? As if it was in your very nature your body shifted backward and closer to his frame the moment he slipped into the space behind you, one of his arms snaking around you like Eden to draw you nearer.

Had you been dreaming about fires, too? Your skin was warm, the blanket had increased your temperature enough to break you into a sweat despite the fact you wore nothing more than your underwear - a fact he was appreciative for as his hand splayed against your stomach to press you closer. As one of his thighs slipped between yours he licked his lips, the wetness pooling between your thighs now spreading to his bare skin.

That was all he needed, the promise of your velvet walls already wet too intoxicating a thought to ignore. Pressing his thigh harder against your core he savored the heavy breath that fell from your lips, cautious enough in his movements to ensure you remained asleep.

His hands first found your breasts, cupping and kneading the soft flesh in his hands as he leaned closer, burying his face in your neck to deeply inhale the familiarity of your natural perfume. Mind hazier than it had been earlier, the reason he was here in the first place long forgotten, one of his hands left your chest to continue downward, toward what he truly sought.

As his prosthetic continued to gently massage your chest two long fingers ran through your folds, your arousal soaked core offering little restraint. When your walls welcomed in one finger with ease he withdrew to add a second, curling them both against a sensitive spot he often bullied for your reaction.

From behind you his cock was throbbing in his underwear, the fabric restraining his length to a painful degree - he needed pressure and took it by grinding against you, his fingers pumping into you at a pace indicating he'd forgotten you were asleep. As you stirred awake his mouth connected to your neck, his tongue licking at a spot he often favored near your shoulder.

It was hardly the first time he'd woken you up like this, but you found each time was more dizzying than the last, his efforts and actions increasing each time this occurred. It was becoming a habit, one that had previously been restricted to starships and distant planets.

Even in your half awake state, the thought of Anakin sneaking into your room in the Temple to defile you only added to your arousal, a quiet moan falling from your lips as your walls clenched around his fingers. You allowed yourself a moment longer before the cloudiness of sleep lifted further, the consequences of what would happen if you were discovered now coming to mind.

Almost sensing your body's reluctance his prosthetic hand slipped downward to press into your waist, holding you tight against him as he pumped his fingers into you faster.

"Anakin..."

"Shhhh," he cooed, abandoning his attention on your neck to lean his mouth closer to your ear, whispering delicately in a tone that didn't match the ferocity at which he was now driving his fingers into you. Now that you were awake, there was no point in him holding himself back from playing with you how he wanted. "It's me."

"Shouldn't be in here, what're you..."

"Just shush," it was subtle, but you could hear the hint of annoyance in his voice, why you would question him at this point in your relationship always a baffling thing for him. He had never failed to make you feel good before, and if you would shut up and let him, he'd make sure you got better sleep than you would've before. "It's just me, I've got you."

"But if s-someone...hears," you whimpered, the noise coaxed from your throat by the perfect curl of his fingers, the digits rubbing against the perfect spot that started to unravel your anxieties into forgotten thoughts.

"Then I guess you should be quiet then," he cooed, his voice smug as he nipped at the skin beneath your ear. "I couldn't sleep, I needed your help."

"Anakin..."

"Shhhh...just let me take care of you...of us."

His prosthetic hand left your chest to cup over your mouth gently, slowing the pace he was pumping his fingers into you to stroke along your walls slowly, his lips trailing heavy kisses along your neck.

"I'm sorry...I just...couldn't help myself when I saw how beautiful you looked," his breath was hot and heavy against your neck and you noted the subtle shake to his words, a familiar desperation to his movements and tone. He removed his fingers from you, smiling against your skin when it pulled a whine from your chest, his mocking laugh muffled.

Agonizingly slow he ran his fingers through your folds again, spreading the excess of arousal he was creating from your abandoned hole to your swollen clit. His fingers rubbed a slow circle, ego basking in the way your waist bucked toward him.

"And you were already so wet..."

Gently, slowly he slipped one finger into you again, giving you enough to feel desperate for more and not nearly enough to push you closer to the release you were now chasing. He was whispering lowly in your ear, his voice caressing your mind into ease and submission, his tone too honey sweet to deny.

To offer your encouragement you pressed back into him, the thick outline of his cock pressed firmly between your bodies as you turned your head in a desperate attempt to ask him for a kiss. Amused by your shameless display of neediness Anakin taunted you by kissing the back of his hand over your lips, eyes gazing deeply into yours with the intensity of twin suns.

He shushed you against his hand, waiting for you to nod your understanding until he took his hand away, pushing two fingers into you as he happily pressed his lips to yours in a rough kiss. It was always a bit clumsy, desperate when the two of you found yourself clamoring for one another in the night like this, and now was no exception - tongues overly ambitious and territorial, teeth knocking several times before you figured it out.

Life didn't award the two of you many opportunities to rehearse this dance, but thankfully you had become part of one another's muscle memory, and it never took long to fall into the perfect synchrony.

He spread his fingers inside you, his tongue exploring your mouth as his hand grasped the back of your head, hoping to alleviate some of the pressure from twisting your neck. You moaned against his lips, perfectly quiet for the situation you were in. He thanked you with his teeth against your bottom lip, a low hum rumbling in his chest.

"It's been too long...you're so tight."

He encouraged you to return your head forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek before burrowing his face in your neck again, his fingers pumping in and out of you at the perfect pace to draw you nearer to the edge. You took it upon yourself to silence your moans by burying your face into the pillow, your sounds of pleasure only loud enough for his ears.

"Good girl," he was kissing your neck again and maker was it a wonder how he knew the exact pressure with which to press a kiss to each spot, having long since memorized his favorite parts of your skin. "If you come for me we can go back to sleep, I just...need to feel you come."

He felt you tighten around his fingers the moment he mentioned your release, choosing then to connect a metal thumb to your clit and circle slowly, the cold searing against your burning skin in a way that set the nerves ablaze. Your walls fluttered again, your hips squirming as you reached one hand back to grip at his hair, begging him for what you needed without ruining your perfect silence.

But he held you there, slowly his movements and breathing heavily against your skin until he could hear your breathing turn impatient, your waist pushing back into his as you tugged at his hair to beg. Slipping two fingers into you again he curled them, pressing firmly against the sensitive patch you needed him most as he rolled your clit in his fingers.

"Go ahead."

He continued fucking his fingers into you as you muffled your moan into the pillow, eyes squeezed shut as you were taken over by euphoria, certain even when you'd been amongst the stars you hadn't felt this high. He continued to lazily pump his digits until your walls unclenched, continuing to stroke gently through your folds.

In your blissful state your mind shrouded his actions in fog, his movements hardly registering until you felt the leaking head of his cock rubbing between your folds. Though he wanted to, he didn't push into your velvet channel, instead barely teasing the tip just barely into you. Even that was enough to cause your hips to buck forward and away from him, the sensitivity overwhelming your actions. He only pulled you back into him with a firm hand, grinding his length against your core again.

"I'm sorry..." he breathed out, lips pressing to the back of your neck gently before he nipped his teeth into your skin again. Dragging his length back and forth through your folds filled the room with the audibly lewd reminder of how wet you were. "I know I said just one orgasm but...I just. I just need you, okay...listen to how wet you are..."

"Anakin..." you whimpered, your tone unconvincingly serious as you shifted your waist toward his further. His fingers twitched at your hip, digging into your skin further to hold you tighter, sucking dark evidence of your time together onto your neck. "We can't...not here..."

"I won't move, I just want to feel close to you," he promised, his tone too sweet and convincing to resist. "I need to be close to you, angel..."

"Okay."

You could feel his lips curve into a wicked smile the moment you relented, your body relaxing in his arms. He reached between your bodies to grasp his cock, giving the throbbing length several pumps before he inserted only the tip, pulling you down onto inch by inch with a hand on your hip until he was fully sheathed inside you.

"That's my girl," he breathed out, his free hand finding its way to your chest to grip one of your breasts. "Kriff...s-so tight."

"Missed you," you whimpered quietly, trying to steady yourself as to not spur him forward but well aware of the fresh rush of slick that was leaking from you and soaking his pelvis. He released his bruising hold on your hip to wrap his arm fully across your stomach, holding you to him.

His hold was crushing - you couldn't move if you wanted to. Right now, you couldn't decide.

"Missed...maker...missed feeling you," he managed out, swallowing hard midway through to gather himself, his forehead now resting against your back. His hips rolled, pulling a delicious moan from you that you barely managed to muffle in the pillow. "I'm sorry, I just...I need more."

"Ani..." you whimpered, one of your hands reaching behind to push at his waist gently. It was a feeble attempt...he couldn't help the quiet laugh that rumbled against your back through his chest because of it. "Y-you said..."

"You just make me feel so good, I'm sorry...s-sorry, I can't help it," he had raised his head again to whisper in your ear, pressing reassuring kisses to the sensitive skin beneath it. "You feel too good...promise we can go to sleep soon I just...just need to come."

He was moving then and maker, there was little to complain about when you were reunited with Anakin like this after months of being denied. A blissful sigh slipped past your lips at the next slow roll of his hips, an appreciative groan falling from his lips at the feeling of his length dragging inside your walls.

Slowly he withdrew from you, forcing himself to wait a moment before pushing back into you, repeating the motion until he'd set a pace he knew you loved. For what it was worth, he was managing to stay gentle with you, hoping you'd come around to the risk of coming together in the Temple the more tenderly he approached.

"A-Anakin, you... feel so good," you whimpered out when his tip rubbed against the sensitive spot in your walls, hands grasping at the sheets in desperation for something to hold onto. Thankfully, he was more than perceptive when it came to your body's response to him.

With appallingly little effort he had you on your back, his arms moving to press your knees to your chest. Arrogant - there was no other word for the smile that passed his features as his cock pressed impossibly deeper into you, leaning downward so he could claim your lips in a heavy kiss again, the momentary lull in his movements quickly shattered with a harsh snap of his hips.

You could already feel the bruises forming under his fingertips on your legs where he held you, pounding into you repeatedly at a pace that would make it hard to cover the discomfort you'd feel in training tomorrow. You knew that for him, seeing you struggle to stand would be just as satisfying as it was to put you in that position in the first place.

Instead of thinking about the future, though, you focused instead on now - on him. He was talking against your lips between kisses, his teeth catching your bottom lip between them so frequently you could feel the swell to them. He was beautiful - you were fortunate to be able to see him this way, almost seeming to glow and sparkle as the moon and stars glistened off of his sweat covered skin.

You reached for him with one hand, leaving the other to rest on his stomach, fingers pushing back his soaked curls before running down the side of his face. The emotion, the tenderness...the physical manifestation of your love for him in every gentle touch - it only made him want you more, a fact that he proved by angling you into the perfect position, your release approaching suddenly and with ferocity as his cock entered you deep - almost too deep, one of his hands now pressing against your stomach.

He could feel you clenching him, walls fluttering as your eyes rolled back, biting your bottom lip between your own teeth to stifle your moan. With a particularly hard thrust and squeeze from your cunt he replaced your lips with his, surprised to taste the familiar metal of blood. His tongue apologized for the pain, swiping against your lip before he kissed you again, one hand pressing to your stomach.

Your second orgasm washed over you violently, legs shaking between your bodies as he continued to take what he needed from you, using your lips to muffle moans of his own as your walls choked his cock, squeezing him so tightly he could hardly bring himself to pull out.

"Gonna fill you up."

The warning was barely audible, only moments later you felt the wet heat of his seed filling you, the excess combining with your own release and leaking out from around his cock. The promise of a sight like that pulled him from you, using one of his hands to hold your legs to your chest still as he leaned back.

You were lost in a haze, not wholly certain you weren't floating amongst the stars, hardly registering the predatory look on his face and the way his eyes darkened as he gazed upon your leaking hole. "Look how pretty..."

Two of his cold metal fingers pushing the liquid back into you started to bring you back to your body, just enough to take in the sight of him licking his lips - his intentions written plainly on his features.

Taking, with no intention to stop.

"I'm sorry, angel, you just...look so good."

He leaned forward, flattening his tongue against your cunt and licking through your folds slowly, gathering as much of the combined spend on his tongue before swallowing it down greedily, his groan vibrating through you. He sucked your swollen, pulsating clit harshly before returning his tongue to your freshly fucked hole, pushing the muscle into you greedily.

Your fingers tangled into his hair, the only movement you could manage, pulling roughly to hold him closer to your core with all of your strength. He was drinking from you - far too busy to concern himself with how hard you were pulling on him. The noise the two of you were creating was forgotten, Anakin's mouth slurping and smacking against your cunt as he moaned in unison with you.

"Need you to come again, angel..."

His head would stay between your thighs until you did, you knew that. But after two, you weren't certain how much more you could offer.

"'s too much..."

Disappointed in your response he turned his head to nip at your inner thigh, a bruise forming in the wake of his teeth. He clicked his tongue against his teeth, shaking his head briefly before kissing the mark, eyes flickering up toward your face. Disapproval flooded his eyes.

"Don't say that," he snapped, taking a deep breath into his lungs to steady himself again. When he continued his voice was calmer, much more seductive, his lips pressing to your clit briefly again. "You know it's not, you can take it. Give me one more."

"I can't..."

He growled, his frustration clear as he huffed out a breath, withdrawing from you. You whined at the loss, a contrast to the reluctance of your words, to which he laughed short and harsh, muttering about how he knew what you needed.

As he moved to his back he grasped you, pulling you to kneel over him and swatting at your ass to encourage you to crawl forward. Your shaking legs nearly failed you as you did as you were instructed - you wouldn't *dare* deny him what he needed - crawling toward his face until you were kneeling over it.

His eyes said everything - you may have been hovering over him, but he was still in control. They continued to burn into yours as he pulled you downward, connecting his lips to your clit and slipping two waiting fingers into your cunt with ease. It didn't take long for his wants to click in your mind, his end goal becoming more and more obvious as he relentlessly continued to suck and lick your throbbing clit, eventually adding a third finger into your channel.

The pressure was becoming too much, too blinding, all of your senses overwhelmed and your body seemingly on fire, finding it within yourself to grind against his face despite your increasingly weak legs.

"Ani, I...fuck, I..."

He only nodded, perfectly timed with the rush of fluid that squirted from you, your vision blinded and mind free of all thought as this orgasm wracked through you violently. Anakin's mouth was open and waiting, eagerly lapping at the fluid after you'd finished, drinking from you like it sustained him, unwilling to waste a single drop of what he'd earned - of what he'd known you could give him.

He caught you when you nearly collapsed, helping you lay back against the mattress again, gazing at you lovingly. The overstimulation had brought tears to your eyes, your face a complete wreck now - crocodile tears on your cheeks, a split lip from where you'd bitten yourself, several marks of his covering your neck.

This is where he found true beauty.

He leaned forward, licking one of the tears that had reached your lips before smiling and kissing you again, nestling back between your thighs. From between you his cock twitched again, harder than even before now that you'd gushed on him. His hands were bending you back again, forcing your knees back to your chest again, a hand immediately slipping to your throat when you were positioned exactly how he wanted you.

His free hand was waiting to grasp your hip when you jerked at the feeling of his cock teasing at your entrance again, holding you in place as he rutted against you slowly. You could hear his cock as it slipped back and forth through your folds, your body willing to give into him further even if you felt you couldn't.

"Still wet..."

You opened your mouth to argue but it went unheard as he just barely applied more physical pressure to your neck, combining it with additional pressure from the Force to make it feel much tighter. Your eyes stayed on his, wide and glimmering, universes reflected in them as you surrendered yourself to him.

"Shhh..." he cooed, slipping his free hand between the two of you to grasp his cock, pumping the throbbing length in clumsy, desperate motions as he gazed into your blissful face. "I know you wouldn't want me to wake up in pain..."

You barely managed to shake your head, relenting once again, his hand replaced with your cunt as he drove forward into you again. The noise your cunt welcomed him home with was lewd - responded to with a groan from him.

"I know," he breathed out, leaning down to capture your lips in a loving kiss again. You winced, lips swollen and bottom one split, something he showed little regard for as he bit at the soft flesh again. "You'd never want to hurt me, angel..."

Your walls squeezed him tighter, the overstimulation completely clouding your mind and rendering you into one purpose - his pleasure. You felt more tears coming on your cheeks as he began to pound into your over sensitive hole, eyes begging for anything he wanted to give. Content with your devotion he released his hold on your throat, a moan bursting from your mouth which he quickly silenced with a hard kiss.

Thankfully, it was obvious from the sloppiness of his thrusts that he wouldn't last long this round with you - his hips sputtering against yours each time his sack hit against your skin. His thumb found your clit again, pinching the bud roughly and swallowing the wail that came from your mouth.

"You can take it," he whispered against your lips, forehead dripping sweat now with his hair completely slick against it. "I know...y-you've got one more."

How long had the two of you been going? Long enough now to the point where you were so cock drunk all you could manage was to nod up at him, eyes still wide with tears streaming on your cheek. Each time your bodies came together with pornographic noises he hoped would replace the nightmares echoed, joined by moans and sobs of pleasure from you, thanked with grunts and groans from him.

"Gotta...fill you again," he promised, lips now on your neck as he licked at your skin, picking a completely new spot on your shoulder to bite into. He wondered what you might do if he bit hard enough to scar you with a print that was uniquely his own - a thought for another time, perhaps. "Make sure...it works. Want everyone to know who you...who you belong to."

As his thrusts became impossibly harder and he pressed a hand against your stomach again he lowered his head further, suckling one of your breasts into his mouth and swirling his tongue around your nipple. It occurred to him that your chest had gone unfortunately neglected in his actions tonight - something he'd happily remedy in the morning.

He could feel your body begging for release, his cock railing into you repeatedly, the tip slamming into your most sensitive spot with each thrust, his hand pressing hard against your stomach while cool metal fingers played with your clit. As he pulled away from suckling your breast he bit your nipple, the wicked grin you love flashing on his features before he made his way to your face again.

"Again," he instructed simply, leaving no room for disagreement. To accentuate his point he ground his waist into yours agonizingly slowly, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth that contrasted how rough he was being. His breath was heavy, hot against your skin - you thought you might burst into flames any moment. "You know what I want."

You did, but you weren't certain you could give it to him - until he picked up the pace between his hips and fingers more, using the Force to replace the pressure on your stomach when he removed his hand from it. Grabbing your jaw he forced you to roll your head forward from the pillow again, demanding eye contact.

Taking advantage of your open mouth he spit into it, watching as you swallowed it down gratefully. The moment he kissed you again both of your dams burst - you gushed around him again, clear fluid reaching his abdomen and creating even more noise as he groaned out, spilling another load in your womb.

He continued to thrust through both of your orgasms, lazily pressing kisses to your lips, cheek, nose and forehead...anywhere he could reach until he was certain your cunt had taken in every drop he offered.

It was serenity in moments like this, his mood effortlessly shifting from greed and selfishness and into something much softer, much more in control of himself. When he pulled himself free of you with a groan he leaned downward to press a silent kiss to your forehead, withdrawing to the attached bathroom to retrieve a towel, wetting it in the sink with warm water before returning to your side.

As he gently cleaned your core he pressed his forehead into yours, eyes closed as he muttered quiet apologies and words of appreciation. When he left again it was brief, movements spurred along by the quiet whine that left your throat.

Tenderly shushing you now as he slipped into the bed beside you, arms wrapping around your middle to anchor you to him. Happily, with no shred of hesitance your head found its favorite resting place against his chest, your frame melding into his much as it had earlier.

This time, however, he only held you, his cheek pressed to the top of your head.

"Y'had another nightmare, didn't you?"

It was the most words you'd said in a single sentence since he'd stolen his way into your room, and he was appreciative for your delicate tone - for the way you knew how to approach him in ways others were too intimidated to. He savored the way your arms wrapped around him, hands resting on his lower back to offer him some comfort.

"The same one," he knew that you'd understand from just that, thankful much more needn't be said, his preference on keeping the images locked in his mind showing strong. "I'm sorry, I didn't...I couldn't help myself, I just..."

"Needed me."

The apology he offered went responded to no further, a verbal confirmation of your forgiveness unnecessary. Instead, you focused what little energy remained in your body to brush your fingertips lightly on his back, your affections reciprocated as one of his hands raised to hold the back of your head, silently asking you to stay closer.

"I love you, angel."

The words he said so little that you craved to hear more than any other, welcoming you back into sleep.

masterlist. star wars masterlist.

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker smut #star wars smut

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nexusnyx · 1 year

Text

from eden

Joel Miller x f!Reader [3.3k] Summary: The nightmares left when you started sharing Joel's bed, but that never meant they were gone. When you have your first episode in his presence, Joel's right there. He's there, all around you, inside you, comforting you. It's so different than all the other desperate times you two became one that you wonder how much of it is meant to soothe you, and how much was a need of his.

— A/n 📝This was written because I had a nightmare and no Joel to comfort me, so I'm being self-indulgent to the max. You're welcome. Reblogs and comments make all the difference. — Warnings⚠️ mature content—explicit depictions of sex, so minors dni. | 🏷️ age gap, established relationship, morning sex, comfort sex, nightmares, soft!Joel, making out, dirty talking, fingering, missionary sex, prone bone, overstimulation, creampie (practice safe sex y'all).

ㅤㅤㅤㅤmasterlist | read on ao3

Before you, his sleep was non-existent. Restless, a black out, a body function that hit him when Joel reached his limit. It was achieved through scotch, overworking himself, and sometimes, when the date offered no other alternative, pills.

Now, Joel sleeps — okay. He rests.

Drool on his pillow, body waking up with the feeling of new, sometimes even going as far as dreaming. It's insanity, and although he's only had it for months, Joel's terrified of how addicted to it he is.

No matter how great the sleep is, it's still light. Always will be — there's no deep sleep at the end of the world, and when you stir in his arms, Joel wakes up in a second, only to notice this is nothing like the other times; he regains consciousness and is taken by your panic like a cold shower, and in a second, he's alert.

"Baby — hey, hey," he whispers your name, calling you back to him. "Wake up." He repeats your name louder, and you awake in a pained gasp, which echoes in him. "Hey — baby. C'mere."

At first, the shock stops you from abiding by his words.

All you can feel is the hot peng in your chest still echoing from the images passing like a movie before your eyes, the hot ache enveloping all your middle from the sense of alert danger alert, but Joel is patient as you breathe through those seconds. His palms rub both your arms, and he keeps his distance, his breath steady, his eyes set on you firm despite their hazy sleepiness. Once, Joel could barely sleep heavily enough to get rest, and now, he woke with sleep still clouding the edges of his visions.

Because of you. Because of — "Baby," he whispers again. This time, his voice lands somewhere conscious and your gaze meets his. "There you are." His digits apply gentle pressure on your arms to see if your body has relaxed enough to be guided by him and sure enough, you feel the slight pull as a port and sink your anchor into him.

Your upper body sags on his, falling on his touch.

You wished for radio silence. For something to come and take away the pain, the lingering feeling of those worries your subconscious manifested as horrible pictures to dissipate.

And it comes. In the shape of Joel's hand gripping your nape and his other hand wrapping around your waist to pull you even closer, comfort arrives.

"Shhhhh." Only when he shushes you the sound of your whimpering register — you're crying. Wetting his sleeping shirt. Still shaking. "I've got you."

He repeats those three precious words more times until you've calmed down. However long that takes. All you know is that one moment you can barely think beyond what you saw in those dreams and next, you're wiping your cheeks on your forearms and looking at Joel through your wet lashes.

He feels your eyes on him, turns around and flicks the lamp by the bed on.

Faint yellow light illuminates his features amidst all the darkness, and you breathe.

"You're alright," it slips out. You almost cry again, biting at your bottom lip since you're unable to bite your own words back, or swallow them now that they're out in the open.

Joel's brows crease in confusion for only a moment, and then it hits him. It was about him. "I'm alright." The claim erases every ounce of weight left in your chest. "C'mere," he pulls you closer, and you take the invite.

Stradling his lap is your favorite thing, even if you're still shy to do it; the level of desire and attraction you have for Joel is embarrassing, the effect he has on you and how desperate you are for every crumb of his touch and affection should make you ashamed. All it does is make you blush, or occasionally stutter.

Joel takes it all with a good heart. He adjusts your body in his lap, resting his face on your shoulder, and then breathes in deeply.

Breathes out.

After blissful moments like this, he asks. "Feeling better?"

With you, always. "Yeah." You want to look at him, but his neck is where Joel smells the most like himself, and it makes you a bit drunk. Sleep is long gone from your body — that's what a few touches from him can do. "You always know how to help."

Joel chuckles and the huff of breath tickles your neck. "All I did was shush and hold you."

"I know. That's perfect."

Joel would ask if you want to talk about the nightmares, but no one does. He starts petting your hair. "Think you can get back to sleep?"

You shake your head.

His head tilts. What do you want, then? "Still thinking about it?"

His question makes you double-check, and — no. You shake your head. "Just..." Instead of answering, you show him.

A roll of your hips, and the surprised groan it pulls out of him makes the hint of a smile show on your face.

He put you on his lap. That's all you needed to go from asleep to wide awake. Or at least, I want you awake.

"Fuck—," Joel's fingers dig deeper and hard into your waist. "'s what so?"

You nod. "Can we?"

"Can we what?" Joel asks, because while few people know it, he's a little shit.

"You know what," you whine. "Wanna feel you. Please?"

The way you whine brings out something borderline animalistic in Joel.

It took him by surprise every single time — it was a hook you had, an energetic and magnetic pull that turned Joel towards you almost on instinct.

Joel goes from being half-asleep to reeling about all the ways he wants to taste you. It should be over by now, the stupid flutter in his stomach whenever you kiss him like this, devour his oxygen in a starved and greedy way, but they only amplify somehow.

All he does is kiss you for a while.

Joel sighs into your mouth and licks around your soft whimpers. He feels overwhelmed — with only a few rolls of your hips and the desperate tightening of your legs on both of his sides and he's hard as a rock. Straining against his briefs, wetting a spot on it because you're rocking against him and all but melting against his hand on your hair.

When he pulls back for air, Joel has to just look.

He grabs a fistful of your hair by the nape and pulls your head back as gently as he can — you mewl. Whine coming out scratchy, on the back of your throat, and he sort of smiles.

It's on his face. He can feel the tugging on his lips at the sight in front of him. There's the faintest notion of light coming through the windows, the early signs of night dissipating, and they illuminate you just right. Soft, royal blue lights illuminate the contour of your cheekbones, and Joel needs to see more.

Wants to. He lets go of your hair and tugs on your shirt—no, on his shirt, taking it off with your help.

Usually, Joel's talkative from the start. He discovered you have a thing for his voice early on and lost the ability to shut the fuck up ever since. Your words, not his.

Usually, it's not this, though—not this slow, or this reverent.

One of Joel's hands keeps running through your body, smoothing out all the exposed skin, and he can tell by your body that the touch is relaxing.

Then, you break the silence by leaning your upper body, closing the space between your heads. "Joel," you whisper in his mouth. "Wanna suck you off."

The one thing you love doing to distract yourself—he'd allow it, but something's tugging at him to offer more than just distraction.

Joel wants to offer you comfort.

He closes the gap and kisses your eager and waiting lips, tasting you again before answering, "Not now, baby."

You whine, squeezing your thighs around him. "Why not?"

He remembers something and runs his hands over your ass as he talks, massaging and squishing the flesh. "You told me I could touch you as much as I wanted to, remember?" He gets his fingers under the ban of your panties, squeezing harder. "On our night, you told me I could always do you like I wanted, right baby?" Joel seals his lips on yours again in a harsh kiss as both of you recall the night. The first night. The one you two deemed 'your' night. He pulls back. "Was so filthy that night, baby—"

"Wanted you for so long—" and shit, that gets to him.

Joel spins both of you around and lays your back to the mattress again, rocking his hips with yours. "Dunno what you see in me, baby—" you poked him hard on his side, mean and pointy and hard, and Joel looks up to see you frowning at him. Right—no shit-talking himself in your presence. He chuckles, and grabs your chin, tilting your head up so he licks a stripe down your jugular. "My bad — 'm thinking about how fuckin' lucky I was and started off on the wrong end of it."

"Damn right you did — oh." The gasp you let out loud is matched by his cursing.

Joel pushed your panties to the side, taking advantage of the lack of clothes in way, and all he wanted was to check. Instead, he gets his fingers soaked in all of your wetness. Just from kissing. Just for him. "All for me, baby? Jesus fuckin' Christ." Joel runs two, three fingers between your folds, wetting his digits before he starts thumbing your clit. "I love your mouth on me, y'know that. Always get So messy. Do it just like — I like it. But I just wanna see you feel good right now."

"Joel."

He had no idea where it came from, but his brain paints the picture for him.

Your eyes wide, twitching with fear.

It'd been a while since he saw that. Matter-of-factly, Joel was sure now he'd never seen that expression on you before. He would know — the long days Joel spent cataloging ever line, wrinkle, freckle on your body; he was no stranger to your nature. Joel walked into your deepest and darkest woods, and whatever nightmare woke you up today, it was a new storm brewing.

You're alright, you had said.

Joel sinks his fingers inside you as he sinks his mouth on your neck, seeking comfort in you at the same beat as he's trying to offer it.

You clench around him, and Joel sighs when your nails dig at his back. It's not just his voice you like. Joel stops thinking about all the reasons why you could be afraid and focuses on making you forget there's a world to fear. "Like my fingers, don't ya?" he rasps out, inching his face back so he can share the same breath as you.

"So thick," you babble out, thighs spreading wider for him.

Joel wasted many hours in front of mirrors convincing himself he was past the futilities of caring about appearance, attraction, and things of the such. However, all you needed to do was this:

"Joel, oh god, Joel," like a prayer. Eyes closed, rolling at the back of your head, like a surrender. The way you forced them back open just to look at him, and your mouth gaped open — Joel could feel the lust oozing off of you. "So fuckin' handsome, Joel. You look so good fucking me."

He growls, pulsing his fingers in a curve inside of you, abusing the spot he knows to be carved only to break your mind. Designed to make you see stars.

"So flatterin'," he laughs, sucking on your abused lips. "You make me feel handsome," he confesses, milking the trembling in your body that he recognizes quite well. "That's it — let it all go for me, baby."

Your first orgasm cums in a silent scream, as you let his fingers guide you into white bliss.

Joel moans unabashedly as you ride it out. He kisses your jaw since your lips are too busy hanging open, frozen around the letters of his name.

"Joel—too much, too much," you cry out, and he takes out his fingers from inside. He guides them to your mouth, and you part your lips. So obedient it drives him nuts.

"Lick 'em clean," he orders softly. He watches you do it, and imagines it's his cock inside of his fingers, but he has to prioritize now. He wants you in that way he knows it drives you wild — the way it pulls at your animalistic instincts and gets you screaming into the pillow. "Turn around, baby, c'mon."

It's like you know.

You do. Your eyes widen for a second and you moan for him before readjusting your body under him.

He grabs his own pillow to position underneath your hips when you lay with your belly down, settles his legs outside of yours and does his best not to drop his whole weight on you just yet.

"More, more," you whine for him. You want more of his weight — lord knows why, but you enjoy being smothered by him. Joel gives you just a little more and pulls your hair away from your face so he look at you. "Please don't tease me."

He wanted to. God, Joel really wanted to be strong — and young — enough to tease you until you were crying; sometimes, when he was rested enough, when you riled him up just right, when the adrenaline was high, or when something clicked and the air sizzled with a tension between you two, then he could.

Joel could make you cum two, or three times, before he put it in.

Other times, you were both starving for it.

He positioned himself at your entrance and pushed just the head in, wishing he was less riled up, but finding comfort that you were right there with him.

"Joel," you beg.

He smiles, and slides it all the way in. It's so wet, and so tight, and he's so, so fucked.

He praises your name. Catches his breath on your sweaty shoulder, and sucks on the back of your neck.

When you whine for more, this time, he truly has no words.

All Joel does is enjoy the way you're a mess with him.

He starts at a slow pace, pulling out the way out so he can enjoy the drag of it getting back inside. He does that until his arms are aching with the effort of keeping himself upright, and then he's lowering himself further, enjoying how much louder you get.

"Tell me if it's too much," he pleas in your ear.

"Faster, need it faster," is all you have to say back to him.

Joel abides. He gives it to you just how you want it, and he knows you're about to cum again before you start blabbering about it.

"Oh, god—'m gonna, Joel—right there—"

"Here, hm?" He bucks his hips harder, and is rewarded with your moans getting higher. "Fuckin' love findin' your sport, baby. Clenching — so fuckin' tight around me."

"'m gonna cum —"

"Oh, I know baby — clenchin' so fuckin' hard around me. Do it." He grabs your hair again and tells himself to hold it back. "Cum around my cock. Show me how bad — you love — when I give this pussy — what it deserves."

It's a mess of tangled libs and sweat from then on.

You convulse around Joel, your whole body trembling. With thighs still shaking, Joel pulls out and flips you around so he can see your face. He lines up and cups your face with the other hand, "Can I, baby?"

You nod with tears streaming down your face. "Please," it's only a whisper. "Please use me. Wanna—"you push your hips down, and Joel sinks it all the way in, making both of you moan. "Yes. Need your cum, too — need it so much."

Joel was teetering on the edge when he started fingering you and watched pleasure take over you. The minute that thin layer of sweat started covering your curves, he wanted to paint your back in his release. Wanted to bury himself to the hilt inside of you.

So he does.

Joel brackets your face between his forearms, and looks you in the eyes as he fucks into you. Not for the first time, he looks deep into you — switches his gaze between the place where your bodies connect to your face, and it's in your silent plea of his name that Joel loses himself.

He sees you starting to lose it — his sides are carved and marked, painted in red by your clawing and scratching, and he knows you're overstimulated from orgasms so close to each other, so Joel knows it'll be easy to do what he loves.

Make you cry out of pleasure.

When he feels his balls tightening, Joel starts to take longer thrusts to make his pelvis stimulate your clitoris at the same time as his hips meet yours. He lets out a loud moan at the feeling of your walls constricting, and, "'m gonna cum, baby, fuckin' hell—"

"Do it, do it do it, Joel, please—"

"Fuck, beg more. Beg."

The litany of pleas falling from your mouth is drawn out in white noise when Joel cums harder than in a long time, spilling hot and deep inside of you. Filling you up a lot. Fuck—he cums so much that the aftershocks last for minutes; precious time that he spends caressing your hair and enjoying your legs trembling in spasms of sensitivity.

Joel grunts a lot. To pull out it's the hardest — your whine gets him to shush and coo, "Shhhh, 's okay baby, 's okay." He peppers your face in kisses to replace from the sudden emptiness. "'m here."

"Don't leave."

"Won't," he licks under your jaw and gets out from on top of you. Grabs the closest piece of clothing to clean between your thighs and to get rid of most of the mess, then throws it far away for the two of you to deal with in some hours.

When he pulls you to his chest, Joel feels content.

He can feel your heart beating. The steady, strong pulse soothing into something calm.

With both chests touching, Joel recognizes when your breathings harmonize.

He smiles, wondering if you already fell asleep.

You haven't. "You're such a dream, Joel." The words are whispered against his chest, where your lips are. Over the sternum of his collarbone, touching it feather-light. The words make crawl through his skin and as soon as they make contact with his ribcages, they start growing there. A dream.

He understood the feeling. You were a dream. He hugs you tighter, wishing he burns this tender blue-lit moment in his mind to always come back to when he needs comfort. (When you're not around.)

"You're a dream, too, baby."

For a second, he wonders if you heard it. Then, he feels it.

A smile on his skin.

A dream or not, you two are in the same haze. That's all he needs. Let him sleep for good if it's like this — with you. In your arms.

🏷️ @sakuralikestars — @mostardentily — @thegreat-annamaria — @leiticia — @polyglot-noodle — @casssiopeia — @earthtocharlene — @levylovegood — @lavenderhhze — @gracie7209 — @waywardwolfbonklight — @shadytalething — @sanzusmile —@yesimwriting — @celestialstar111 💖

⚠️ if anyone being tagged would like to not be, just let me know in my inbox (which you can also use to talk to me about all the appeals of Joel Miller with his hair slicked back. Just saying hehe.

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xcherricutie · 2 months

Text

🌺 drift away 🌺

[Lucifer Morningstar x Reader]

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four]

[Word Count - 1.4k]

[Tags: Angst, songfic (I can't help myself)]

[Notes: My first Hazbin Hotel one shot. Still new to Tumblr, and new to writing one shots, I'm used to writing longer form. Hope this post is up to the standard. It's like, 1 in the morning and I have work tomorrow morning, enjoy. I will hopefully get out a part that's kinda like a prequel, I wanna do Other Friends lol. Obvs inspired by Steven Universe.]

Let’s go in the garden,

You’ll find something waiting,

Right there where you left it,

Lying upside down...

Excitement shot through your system, your feet dragging along the ground as a giggle bubbled from within you. You paused every few seconds as the man before you looked back, a single brow raised at your antics. He took a few steps forward, the sounds of your feet tapping as you followed along filling the air. He sighed, turning around. His eyes, golden sclera and deep red irises, landed on your own, though unfocused. Almost as if looking straight through you.

He’d tried to keep you here, to stop you from following. He knew you were only doing what you were meant to do. You were made for him. An angel born purely to keep Lucifer in check, to keep him happy. You loved being by his side, you loved spending time with him on Earth, in the garden. You thought he loved it too. You thought he loved you.

Taking a deep breath, Lucifer forced a smile for you. His wings softly flapped behind him, lifting him off the ground, raising him to be just above your face level. His finger tapped your nose, his enchanting voice coming through. “Here in the garden, let’s play a game, I’ll show you how it’s done.”

“Here in the garden, stand very still,” His hands on your shoulders, you looked up at him with a beaming smile, happy to spend time with your love.

“This’ll be so much fun,” Your voice, soft and delicate spoke, earning a smile from him. Your heart fluttered at his smile, his cheeks crinkling slightly as his eyes closed, appearing relaxed. At least to you. But appearances weren’t all what they seemed.

“And then he smiled, that’s what I’m after,” You clenched a fist, pressing it to your chest, trying to calm your fast beating heart. You could feel the eyes of the demon behind you on you, the very demon that came from him. “The smile in his eyes, the sound of his laughter.”

You could see the scene replaying before you all over again. You could even hear the soft chuckle that had once escaped his lips, his hands softly squeezing your shoulders. You knew she could see it too, but you didn’t want to acknowledge the memories that had begun to rush back to you, memories from long ago. Memories you’d wished you could forget.

“Happy to listen, happy to play, happily watching him drift away...”

Lucifer’s grip loosened on your shoulders, his wings flapping as he pulled away, leaving you to your little game. You watched him fly into the bright sky, disappearing in the light of the sun with another. But you didn’t think anything of it, because he loved you. He was playing with you, spending time with you.

The girl behind you could only watch in silence, her throat squeezing closed as she tried to keep her inner turmoil to herself. She knew exactly where she was, exactly where you had taken her. The wilted bushes, the out-of-control bramble, the spiraling roots through the grass. This was the long-abandoned Garden of Eden. This was where it all began. Where Charlie’s father, Lucifer, had started humanity’s spiral into chaos, starting with you.

“Happily waiting, all on my own, under the endless sky...” You glanced up to the stars dotting the night sky. Everything seemed to be happening so fast. You never wanted anyone to see this, you never even wanted to see it again yourself. Yet, here you were, sharing your vulnerability with the person you’d come down to Hell to kill. The princess of Hell herself, and Lucifer’s daughter, Charlie. You had let her in, showing her your memories. “Counting the seconds, standing alone, as thousands of years go by...”

The roots had begun to cling to your still form, your body aching, your wings begging to be spread once more. Your hair, once something you had been proud of, now in shambles, grown out nearly to your feet. Deep bags had sunk into the skin under your eyes, a telling sign of your exhaustion. For how much longer must this game go on, you wondered, but never dared voice it. You were meant to make him happy, right?

“Happily wondering, night after night, is this how it works? Am I doing it right?” Your fists clenched, unable to bear looking at your old self any longer, watching as your sickened form disappeared, turning into speckles of gold in the wind. You stepped forward into the place where you had once showed Charlie your older memories, resuming the familiar stance you had been in for over ten thousand years. “Happy to listen, happy to stay, happily watching him drift away...”

A cool breeze blew through your hair, reminding you of the countless nights you took solace in the feeling, the only thing that reminded you that you were still alive, still conscious. Your eyes met Charlie’s, a faint smile on her face as you spotted the tears welling in her eyes. You turned away with the breeze, taking a step in the opposite direction of Charlie, startling her as she was quick to follow.

“You keep on turning pages, for people who don’t care, people who don’t care about you,”

You walked along the edge of a pond, legs brushing against the soft petals of the flowers surrounding the pond. The breeze pulled along the flowers, a long dead water lily being ripped from the ground. Grasping the weakened petals of the flower in your hand, you turned to Charlie with a soft smile, placing the flower in her blonde hair that felt just the same as his. Just as you pulled your hand away, turning your attention to the water, the flower crumpled in her hair, falling apart.

“And still, it takes you ages, to see that no one’s there, see that no one’s there, see that no one’s there, everyone’s gone on without you...” Your eyes drifted back to the spot you had become a part of for so long. The spot you thought would one day claim you and set you free from the pain that he’d left behind in you. Charlie’s eyes followed, her eyes widening to see more of your memories, more of what her father had caused.

“Finally, something.”

The two seraphims, Sera and Emily, stood before you, fear and sorrow written across their faces. Emily ripped roots that had grown to hold you down tightly off, while Sera ran her fingers through your broken hair, tears streaming down her face.

“Finally, news, about how the story ends.”

Sera rambled on and on about everything you had missed. About how humanity had progressed. About the angels that had replaced you in society. Everybody thought you were dead, at the hands of the Devil. You didn’t understand any of it, not until she explained just what had happened, why you were even standing here, playing this game.

“He isn’t an angel anymore, fallen long ago, leaving you for Lilith, and his brand-new daughter...”

“Isn’t that lovely?”

Tears streamed down Charlie’s face as she watched your younger self burst into tears, sobbing violently into Sera’s chest as she hugged you tightly, muttering useless apologies over and over. You cried and screamed, telling her to stop lying and to bring you to Lucifer, to end this game already. You begged and pleaded, telling her that it wasn’t like that, that he loved you, he asked you to stay and play with him. He couldn’t abandon you. You were his angel, his love.

“Isn’t that cool?”

You ignored the pain that squeezed your heart, watching as your memories faded in those familiar golden glimmers, begging that this would be the final time you’d have to see them. You ignored the hot tears that dripped down your cheeks, your emotions leaking through, escaping the tight hold you’d kept them in for so many years.

“And isn’t that cruel? And aren’t I a fool to have happily listened, happy to stay, happily watching him drift, drift...”

You squeezed a fist to your chest, your heart slowing down finally as you sighed deeply. This was the end. This garden, where everything had begun, would finally see the end of the story. Where you would finally let go of the memories that haunted you for ten thousand years, and move on with your life, putting an end to his little game.

“Drift away...”

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader

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konigbabe · 10 months

Text

SHRINE

Pairing: Choso Kamo x fem!reader Word count: 1.3k Tags/warnings: no y/n; smut; soft!dom!choso; female body worship; fingering; cunnilingus (oral sex - f!receive); little religious imaginery; female gendered anatomy Summary: He just wants to please you. Part of my JJKS2 writing week.

event masterlist • masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3 • ko-fi

The room’s dimply lit, shadows dancing along the walls, casting a solemn ambiance that hangs heavy in the air.

You can’t take it anymore.

He’s taking his time. It was supposed to be just a quick foreplay.

Time slips away, swallowed by the abyss of pure, primal and raw pleasance.

And Choso isn’t done yet. The weight of his touch – rough and relentless – presses against your flesh as if he’s seeking to sculpt you into something more than human. Something he can worship, pray to – his own shrine. Hands, calloused and weathered, navigate the curves of your body with a fervor that both unnerves and enthralls.

Drawing docile moans from your throat. He takes a long lick; collects your juices. Swallows it all; an intoxicating concoction of metal and salt, a confection so sweet it spreads warmth through his starved body, sets his senses ablaze; a humble acolyte.

Like a serpent in the Garden of Eden – each drop glides down his throat, a symphony of flavors that dance upon his palate.

Christ, how much he has missed you.

His hands gingerly skim up your curves, exploring every inch of the silkiness of your flesh. Fingertips apostles baptizing your skin with trails of reverence, dancing across your thighs, treasuring the way your legs open to accept him; to embrace his expansive frame.

Choso lapps at your throbbing nub, tongue hot and wet, making broad, leisurely strokes that almost cause you pain. He brushes his lips against you then pulls away, not wanting its taste to end too soon; pushing his tongue inside your pussy, stroking the slick walls until they squeeze and tighten around him; the muscles inside you clench even tighter as he flicks your clit with his tongue.

"Choso–mmpmh," his name a mere mewl, "please, more," you sob out, drawing Choso’s eyes up, the color for penitence and mourning – a pleading glance, and he’s aware. Knows what you want, what you plead for.

Heart swelling with the desire to please, silently adoring you. For an eternity, wants to taste every inch of your body – to devour you.

Still, he refuses to give it to you. Wants to prolong this hour to eons, hear you beg more.

One hand slides away from your thigh, his thumb triggering an uncontrollable shudder as it flicks over your clit, circling the bud; he pulls back, lips tracing the curve of your navel. Teeth biting into the soft, pliant flesh before he murmurs against your quivering form, "Words, baby. I need words."

A plaintive whine breaks free from your shaky voice, every nerve in your being gets set on fire as the wet tip of Choso’s tongue traverses the expanse of your bellybutton, meandering towards the tender hollow of your sternum before his face rests in the crook of your neck – a hand enclosing the fat of your breast, thumb stroking over the nipple.

"What do you want?"

The heat of his breath spreads over the slight curve of your clavicles, making the skin tingle. The hand that’s been toying with your nub now fully cupping your leaking pussy, hot and ready; waiting.

"Want your—ahh," his tongue licks the curvature of your neck before his teeth nip at the damp flesh; the pressure of his hand between your legs intensifies, yet it stays still, "Choso–"

Breath hitching, Choso's middle finger teases your slit, running over your entrance tantalizingly slow as he waits.

You grip his hair, legs spreading wider apart, offering yourself up to him more. Hand sneaking over the contours of his shoulder; feeling the play of muscles and tendons underneath your pads.

"Your fingers," you whimper out, heels digging into the mattress as you push your hips against his hand.

The sight of you – spread open, aching and so desperate for his touch, for him – draws a curse from his lips, cock twitching in his pants.

"Christ–," he kisses you then. Wet and needy. His middle finger pushes forward, feeling you grip him, suck him in as you writhe underneath him, swallowing the strained cries, "you’re so beautiful. So perfect."

He takes his time. Adds another finger, stretches you out.

Sinking his fingers deeper inside you, exploring the tightness of your walls in search for uncharted territories, tasting your pleasure and the way your body moves on its own accord. His thumb brushes against your clit with each thrust, setting off mini-explosions within you as his mouth latches on your breast, a hand kneading the other one.

With the flat, wide expanse of his tongue, Choso licks the fullness of your breast, seeking out and taking in your nipple. He circles it until it’s a hard peak and then, ever so slightly, takes it between his teeth. Eyes staying glued to your face, watching the blissful abandon as your eyes close.

Curling his fingers upwards, putting blunt pressure onto your weak spot and feeling the slickness of your heat drip onto his hand, Choso pushes you closer; feeling your pussy contract, walls quivering around him, he doesn't slow down.

Instead, he pushes harder, with greater intensity, his fingers working you in and out, shameless sounds of your juices squelching fill your ears – send heat to your chest, cheeks; only fueled by the feel of his mouth never leaving your breasts.

"Choso–m’gonna–uhh," words incoherent, consciousness consumed by a rapturous trance, "Choso–ahh–fuck–"

He hears you, captures the sweet melody of your voice. Thumb drawing eights, stroking the pulsating nerve, coaxing you; he smiles, a gentle curve that caresses the tender skin of your chest before his lips meet the hollow of your sternum. Each press of his mouth against your skin ignites a holy rhapsody of overwhelming ecstasy, the warmth of his breath mingling with the softness of his touch

"I know," his lips move upwards, "doin’ so good for me," until his breath scorches your cheek, meets the curve of your earlobe, lips tracing the arc of the cartilage, "cum for me, love."

You feel it then – the waves of pleasure washing over you, growing increasingly stronger until you’re shaking beneath him. Every nerve in your body on fire, you surrender and let go, feeling as if you’re floating away on a cloud.

His gaze lingers on your face; burning the image into his mind – the indent between your eyebrows as you furrow them together, the way your eyes are tightly shut, the fluttering of your lashes, and the trembling of your lips as they part to release a cry so raw and pure and blissful that it almost makes him cum.

Choso doesn’t stop.

Fingers plunging deep into you, the white heat of pleasure radiating from your core. His thumb toying with your aching clit; you can feel the heart beating between your legs when Choso moves down, the tip of his tongue drawing a straight line from your chin to your abdomen before he draws his fingers out. Puts them in his mouth instead and sucks them clean.

You watch the way his eyes flutter shut; how his lips curl into a satisfied smirk as he licks away the evidence of your latest orgasm. Then his lips find their place back on your pussy, licks another stripe. Arms supporting your legs, keeping them wide apart with hands gripping your sides.

Your hand sneaks into his hair, messy and flat, sticky with sweat, "Choso–" you whine, twisting under his grasp in an attempt to get away, "can’t–can’t do another."

"Just one," his breath scorches your skin, tongue sneaking its way up your inner thigh, pasty with your own cum, mixed with his saliva lapping at the sweat dripping from your trembling body; he already made a mess of you, "just one more."

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minhosimthings · 4 months

Text

Gods and Monsters

Symphony Smut Series Day 1: Lana del Rey's God's and Monsters

Lyric: In the land of gods and monsters, I was an angel, looking to get fucked hard.

Pairings: Cupid!Minho × fem!angel of heaven, includes Yuna from Itzy in a scene

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), loss of virginity (reader), overstimulation, p in v, slight breeding kink, corruption kink, possesion kink, hair pulling, use of kitten and angel, Minho cumming in reader

A/N: alright, first day! I am saur excited for this series so we're starting off strong with my husba- I mean my bias Minho! This was heavily inspired by his WKorea photoshoot.

THE SYMPHONY SMUT SERIES MASTERLIST

Gods existed. And so did monsters. But monsters didn't have a particular description, in Minho's opinion.

There he was, an angel, with the brightest wings of them all, holding metal tipped arrows in his hand, shooting all those who he believed deserved love, or worse, rejected love.

And yet, sometimes Cupid falls in love too. High angel of God never mattered to him much. Why would it? When beautiful angels roam the gardens of Eden, stroking their frocks and picking berries and flowers all day.

You were one such beautiful angel.

The prettiest of them all, according to Minho.

"Minho has his eyes on you again Y/N." Yuna nudged your shoulder gently, accidentally making you drop the berries you had in your hand. You rolled your eyes and picked them up again, quickly throwing them into your basket.

"Let him. Why should I care?"

"He's a high ranking angel Y/n." Yuna mumbled, adjusting her skirt, "They say he serves God directly."

"Nobody has seen God Yuna." You smiled gently at her. Even though she was older than you, by a few years or so, she was always the more mischevious one, always keeping an eye out for spotting your admirers.

"He is handsome, but we all know I have probably zero chances with an angel like that."

"Suit yourself then." She huffed, her mystical eyes scouring the dirt below your feet for more berries.

"Why are we picking so many berries anyway?" You questioned, adjusting the basket on your hip. Yuna shrugged her shoulders and made a face which clearly screamed confusion.

"I've hear a rumour though." Yuna whispered excitedly to you, toying with a mulberry leaf she has accidentally plucked, "Apparently Minho needs them for his monthly ritual tonight."

"The ritual?" You asked, "The one where he..."

"Takes an angel for his own, yes." Yuna completed your sentence, removing a thorn stuck in her wickerwork basket, "Apparently if he falls in love with any of them, he shall be promoted to a higher position, one where he can actually see God."

"But that hasn't happened yet has it?" You chuckled, the scent of honeydew plantations tickling your nose, as you saw some angels tending to them with their bare hands all pricked with thorns, "He's a Cupid. Cupids can't fall in love. Even though, I admit, he is dashing."

"Angels, may I have a moment of your time?"

A cold voice sounded like a gong behind your ear drums as you spun around (your skirt spinning with you), to face a cat-like face with bunny teeth.

"Minho." Yuna perked up, brushing her hair out of her face. Gosh, she really did like him. Like you, and every other angel in Heaven and Hell.

"How are you today?" " Fine as ever, Yuna." His tone was condescending, a weird one to use for a casual conversation such as this one.

"Y/N." He bowed to you, the eclipses of his soft hair falling onto his face as he did. "Minho." You answered, the neckline of your frock falling down as you bowed, revealing your cleavage, which Minho tried hard not to stare at.

"You look beautiful today." He complemented, his white teeth on full display, "as always." His addition at the end made you blush.

Was he this nice to every pretty angel?

"I assume you ladies are picking these beautiful berries for my ritual tonight?" He bent over your basket, examining all the black and red berries stuffed into it.

"We are." You cleared your throat, noticing how close Minho was to your bosom, "aren't they delicious looking?"

"We'll see tonight." Minho toyed with a blackberry, "When I drink them up."

Something about his tone scared you, as Yuna bowed him out of the garden, leaving you, tucking your skirt in a little more secure, and looking at the berries all arranged neatly in your basket.

Unexpected things always happen to humans, as you had heard. But sometimes they can happen to angels too. They can happen to anyone really. They just need time.

"Y/N." Minho caressed your cheek gently. The smell of crushed blackberries filled the room, as a bowl of red berries lay beside you.

Being chosen by Minho, hearing your name fall from his lips like an ill forgotten name of a God was shocking, as Yuna nudged you forward to the stand. All the angels looked at you with pity, as if you were a lamb going off for slaughter.

But you hadn't expected him to treat you so kindly.

"My angel...." Minho whispered, tucking a stray hair back behind your ear. "Why me?" You whispered back, as he kissed your knuckles gently, his wings fluttering gently behind him, as he folded them into his back.

"Why not you?" He chuckled, looking at you with bedroom eyes. Reaching his hand behind you, he picked up a berry from the wooden bowl and held it in front of your mouth.

"Be a good angel and open for me." He imitated an opening mouth with his own, "ah there you go, good girl."

The cherry was sweet, running with juices as you tasted it in your mouth, it's bitterness not bothering you. Spitting the seed out quickly, you looked up meekly as Minho's naked figure.

His jaw, lined with heavy lust, his eyes darkened as the night, and his muscles throbbing into your skin. You were wearing a loose robe of reds and whites, a show of the corruption of the pure.

"Oh don't worry darling." Minho caressed your cheek again, his thighs rubbing against yours as he laid you back on the silk ridden bed, "You'll feel nothing but pleasure tonight." "Minho I-Im scared." You whimpered, unsure of what to do. What if he didn't fall in love with you? What if you became another wasted angel?

"Don't be." Minho chuckled, "A pretty angel like you shouldn't be."

You sunk back into the mattress, his body over yours, a hand cupping your cheek while the other rested on your waist, stroking the skin there, exposed from your ridden up robe. your hands were in his curls, and you revelled in the way that you could shamelessly touch them now. He paused for a second, nose brushing yours, breathless and grinning down at you, a knowing smile that was so beautiful that it rendered you speechless.

You leaned in to kiss him again, slower this time, relishing in the moment. you were lost in him, thinking back to the very first time you’d locked eyes and how you never thought it would come to this. this, the way he was holding you, was the best surprise.

"May I?" Minho asked gently, toying with your robe. You nodded your head in a weak attempt of saying yes. His face, mere inches from yours rendered you speechless again.

And with that, the air changed, charged with a different kind of tension. Minho pulled you on top of him, hands firm on your body, the action itself gentle. you steadied yourself, hands on his shoulders, his resting on your waist.

he smiled softly, slowly peeling the material off of your body, up over your head and tossed carelessly onto the floor. he kept his eyes on yours, despite the fact you were now left bare, aside from the white cotton panties that separated you both. he pawed at your sides, kneading gently at your soft hips.

“we’re gonna start slow, okay? gonna take my time with you.” he muttered, eyes on yours before they trailed slowly down, across your face, neck, collarbone, further and further until he was taking all of you in. he began to stroke the underside of your breast with his thumb, watching the way your body tensed under his feather-like touch.

His kiss trailed further down your body, peppered in the valley of your breasts, and then you stopped breathing, the air caught in your throat because he was looking at you, really, truly looking at you, as his tongue found your nipple. you couldn’t take your eyes off of him, not when he was looking at you like that, not when he was making you feel this good already.

“oh, kitten, you want me so badly, don’t you? should’ve asked me sooner. m’gonna make you feel so good.” His hands were on your hips, guiding you backwards and forwards on him.

“it feels so- oh, god.” you whimpered, fingers tangling in his curls, back arching further into him as your thighs clenched around his. He licked over your collarbone oh so slowly, a shiver running down your taut spine.

“i want you to come for me like this first, okay? can you do that for me, kitten?” he cooed, bouncing his leg ever so slightly. “look at me.” And you did, somehow mustering the strength to pull yourself back up and find his darkened eyes.

You were a mess of curses when you let go, your body convulsing, collapsing into him as you came. You were throbbing on his thigh, one glance down at where you were grinding against him displaying your slick. His arms went around your body, flipping you onto your back so that you were resting against the mattress.

“you did so well, angel.” Minho crooned, resting over you on his forearms. you stared up at him in awe, blinking away the haze. “do you want more?”

Minho's hand slid down your body, searching for the band of your underwear. when he reached his destination, he toyed with the lacy edges, letting them snap against the pudge of your belly, teasing you. you bucked your hips, frustrated, and he used the opportunity to cup your pussy, feeling where you’d soaked through the cotton. the groan he let out was carnal, animalistic, almost needy. he could feel all of you, how you ached and dripped, how you needed the everything that you’d requested.

“you’re so fucking good for me, God.” Minho almost slurred his words, voice lower than you’d ever heard it. you keened at the sound, pushing your hips further into him.

“you still want all of me?” he breathed, his shaky breath fanning your face. Minho was obsessed with hearing you say it, obsessed with how you wanted him as much as he needed you.

“You’re so fucking tight.” lando groaned, an edge of excitement in his voice, and then he unleashed everything that he’d held back.

“ahh,” you moaned, trying to tilt your hips so he stopped rutting against your clit, but he was too heavy for you to move beneath him. You could feel another orgasm brewing and you squeezed your eyes shut, your brain fogged. “M-minho” you cried, not knowing if you could keep going like this.

Minho's erratic hips never faulted, “shh,” he cooed unsteadily. “you can take it.”

You shook your head back and forth and mewled in your throat. Minho tried to reassure you, “m’almost finished, kitten.”

As wild and deadly as he was in the battles of Heaven , he was just as primal in the bedroom. Thee softness of your skin felt heavenly against Minho's sore body and against his calloused hands. he slid a hand into your hair, his fist grasping tightly. “this is the last time. i promise.” His deep baritone sent you over the edge. you cried out loud, your legs squeezing against Minho's body, your body shaking as he pummeled you through another orgasm.

You could barely hear the way he was grunting and moaning as you clenched down impossibly hard around him. “gah, fuck,” he groaned.

Minho spilled inside you, your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you felt him fill you once more that night. You weren’t even sure how he still had more to give at this point.

His thrusts turned slow but remained powerful when he bottomed out, hitting you as far back as he could. you gasped with every rut of his hips hitting yours.

His seed leaked out around his cock as he rode out his orgasm. you weren’t sure you could go for another round, hoping Minho was true to his word and this actually was the last time.

His hand aimlessly stroked your hair. he pulled back to look at you, smiling at the sight of your flushed face and disheveled hair. “see. knew you could take it.” he kissed the tip of your nose, regretfully pulling out of you. you whined at the loss—you had got so used to the feeling of him inside you, it was almost painful for him to leave. he marveled at you as he sat back on his haunches, looking between your legs and watching his seed gush out of you.

"You're mine now." Minho whispered into your ear, looking at your cum ridden tummy, "all mine for the eternity of heaven."

As if to seal a charm, Minho kissed you on your neck, wrapping your weak figure into his arms, and running his fingers through your hair to cradle you to sleep.

"My angel."

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voiidlizrd · 6 months

Text

“Honey, you're familiar like my mirror years ago."

- Hozier, From Eden

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Summary: The love the Brothers have for you follows them from present to past and to future

WARNING: SLIGHT SPOILERS FOR NIGHTBRIGHTER

──

Note: MC is gender neutral (they/them pronouns), some angst but relatively fluffy, slight gore (it’s the Devildom), slight POLY MC, demon being a creep to Asmo, small spoilers to Chapter 16 in Obey Me: Shall We Date

A/N: For Satan’s part, I used his frustration and anger in a way of how I’d describe my anger/frustration because it can be hard to express how I feel and it’s like a big bundle of “what the fuck”

Oh, I also based Levi’s excitement to how I’d get really excited cause when I excited I get somewhat violent like “OH MY GOD IM GOING TO EAT THE DRYWALL” excited

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Lucifer did not trust or like you when the two of you first met. You were a demon, he thought at first, and disliked you immediately. Sure, he may be a fallen Angel now, a previous Archangel, but he refuses to compare himself to a demon, to be seen beside a demon aside from Diavolo.

He is more embarrassed of the fact he’d have to rely on you to help him through the Devildom, but maybe he hopes you’ll back down because of the fact, as a demon, caring for the traitors of the Celestial realm would ruin your reputation, or cause you to get in the line of fire with other demons.

But… You didn’t.

You got disgusted looks, glares, and were even spat at because of the fact you associated with them, with him, but you didn’t seem to care one way or the other, just keeping your head high and keeping by his side, not even caring if he did his own glaring and snide comments towards you.

You always came back to him no matter what he said to you.

When learning that you were human, he got a little softer towards you. Perhaps underestimating you sue to your mortality and how fragile you are, always monitoring you as if you weren’t already skilled around the Devildom, as if you didn’t have the power to destroy him with a flick of your wrist, as if you weren’t his own attendant.

Despite him growing protective over you, you always protected him in the end, even if he insisted he didn’t need such from a ‘human’ such as yourself.

“A fallen angel…” a demon had whispered while you two were walking down the street together, you showing him the best record stores in town. “How disgusting. I can smell the Celestial realm on it.”

Lucifer didn’t care, of course. What would engaging with a lowly demon do? But you, your Wrath was clearly showing when you side eyed the demon with a sneer. They seemed to notice you.

“And a demon? I feel bad for them…” Another whispered.

“I’d rather kill myself than be seen near that forsaken angel!” The demon cackled to their partner.

It set you off, even if Lucifer tried to grab your wrist to stop you. You approached the demons, and Lucifer felt his heart lurch. If you got hurt, they would smell the blood on you. How human it was. How soft you were. How pathetically fragile you are. It would ruin Diavolo. It would ruin everything Lucifer was trying to build.

He was about to shout when you grabbed the demon by the horns and tossed them to the ground, an aura about you radiating that made him shiver. You whispered something to the demon in their ear and suddenly their arm was twisted abnormally, as if the bones had shattered themselves at your voice, the skin stretching to accommodate the poking bones.

The demon could only scream, but silenced itself when you covered their mouth. “If I ever,” you said lowly to them. “Hear you utter those words, or any word for that matter, towards Lucifer and his brothers, I will make sure you lose more than just an arm.”

A single glance to the other demon cowering away from you only nodded, understanding the threat went both ways.

You suddenly flipped a switch and walked over to Lucifer with a smile, as if you hadn’t caused a demon to almost piss themselves because of you.

“Let’s get something to eat,” you said with a groan, holding your stomach. “I’m starving!”

He could only follow you silently to Hells Kitchen, unable to speak for a while after those events. He understood finally that you could be trusted to handle yourself, and, to handle his brothers (and himself).

It allowed him to lower his guard around you, to stop seeing you as a soft little human and more of an embodiment of pure, raw power that ended up in a human as kind, as empathetic, as funny and creative and beautiful and handsome as…

As you.

He would never admit his infatuation of you, finding it silly that he would fall for you so quickly. Perhaps it was a moment of weakness because of his Fall. Perhaps he was desperate for interaction with something other than loathsome demons aside from Diavolo. Perhaps it was the fact you were human and the very existence of humans brought him back to Lilith always.

How she gave herself up for them, for one.

It made him sick. It made him hate himself. It made him want to hate you, deep down.

How can he love the very thing that ruined his life? That ruined his brothers’ life? That caused his Father to have to try and punish Lilith for this.

He hated the way his heart throbbed in his chest when you were around. Those eyes gazing into his with a smile so kind, ignoring the harsh words that would escape his lips cursing your existence as a human being, yet you continue to smile at him.

He hates this feeling. He wishes it to go away. He wishes to stop seeing you in his dreams every night, imagining your hands running through his hair, kissing his skin, whispering sweet nothings in his ear. He wishes he didn’t want to spend more time with you. He wishes much, much more.

A toxic, bitter disgust settles on his tongue, like eating a sour lemon, leaving nothing but an ache in his heart and a bundle of confusion, anger, and sadness tangled up inside his chest.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Lucifer sits in his room, idly doing paperwork that seemed to never lessen in their stacks, to him, it only seems to grow more and more. He sighs quietly and drops his quill, settling his face in his hands, listening to the idle crackle of the fire in the background. His shoulders were stiff and so was his back. Lucifer considered for just a moment of taking a break, but there was an itch in the back of his mind urging him forward, that it had to be finished today. If he didn’t finish, it will ruin his reputation with Diavolo.

Just before he picked up his pen, there was a knock on his office door. He furrowed his brows, thinking it was on of his brothers coming to complain about one another again, or to complain about Mammon taking something from them again, he sighed;

“Come in.”

To his surprised (and to his dismay), you entered with a cup of coffee in hand along with a small box balancing on your forearm that held the cup as you opened the door, shutting it behind you with your foot as you grabbed the box in your now free hand. You smiled at him, ignoring his little glare, which would’ve been terrifying if you hadn’t seen it all before.

“This was an unexpected visit, MC.” He said, looking down at his paperwork. “Did one of my brothers tell you to come here?”

“Nope!” You said, setting down the box in front of him, on top of his papers, and the cup of coffee on the side away from the papers, because you didn’t want to annoy him, or spill the coffee. You’d… never see the next day, if you did.

“I came here to see you, Lucifer”.

The ache returned and so did the taste of something sour and bitter, he clenched his hand underneath his desk subconsciously, looking away from you and down at his paperwork, trying to give you the hint to leave him alone.

But you never left, as you never do.

“Aheeemm.” You cleared your throat annoyingly loud, making him sigh.

“Yes?”

“Try the coffee I made you!”

“…I prefer to make my own coffee, thank you.” He muttered, pretending to read off of his paper.

“Luciferrrr…” You whined, sitting down in the chair across his desk, sighing loudly. “If you at least look in the box I got you and drink just a little sip of that coffee, I swear to you, I’ll bribe your brothers to leave you alone for the rest of the day. At least until I make dinner.”

He glances up at you and sighs quietly, dropping his pen again. “Fine.” He said, grabbing the box first, “you better hold up to your word.”

You nodded happily and lean forward in your chair to get a closeup of his face. Upon opening the box, he sees Devil macaroons from Madam Scream’s, Princess’ Poison Apple flavored. He’s narrowing his eyes at the name, never hearing of that before, given that you are the one introducing most of Devildom’s cuisines to him, when he ever has time.

“I always think of the Poison Apple like green apples,” you said with a hum. “I mean they’ve never gotten me sick, but they do have a bitterness about them with a hint of sweetness, kinda like how dark chocolate does.”

He barely understands half of what you’re talking about but he shuts the box and sets it to the side, aiming for the coffee. He was feeling a little exhausted, thinking about drinking some of his own brew in a few hours or so.

You look more excited as he brings the cup to his lips.

The taste of incredibly bitter coffee hit his tongue immediately, the warm black brew made his heart quicken, and tongue tingle. But the taste, the horrible bitter taste, it made his nose scrunch up.

Yet it was so warm, comforting, and familiar.

“You couldn’t have at least put sugar in this.” He glares at you as you snicker lightly as his expression.

“Sorry, sorry. But I did.” You said, standing up. “It’s a special bean brew I got from the shop today. The reason it’s so bitter is because it brings out the admiration the maker has for the drinker. That being you!”

His hands, through his gloves, are warmed by the mug of coffee, the crackling of fire filling in the silence that settled between you two. He couldn’t bare to look away from you as the tips of his ears grew warm while staring back into those eyes.

So soft.

So loving.

So perfect.

Lifetimes could go by and he could never be bored. Thousands upon thousands of years and never once forget. Devildom was suppose to be a punishment, a way to bare his sins, but how can this be a punishment when you were here in front of him? A human being that surely was a silent gift from his Father to him and his brothers. You must have been. To be molded so perfectly, to have your soul reflect his very being.

You reach your hand out to him, tilting your head to the side, as if examining him, and settle your hand upon his cheek, rubbing your thumb across it tenderly. He almost melts into your touch, craving it, missing it.

Then the comfortable silence is broken by the sound of yelling coming from downstairs, a mixture of Mammon and Levi arguing along with Satan’s screaming at them. You sigh and pull back, a fond smile on your face.

“Well, a deal is a deal,” you said standing up. “I’ll go take care of that and call you down for dinner, okay? And you can’t say no because I’ll drag you down.”

You leave the room, quickly, in order to stop the brothers from possibly breaking anything. Lucifer, before you opened the door and shut it behind you, almost reaches out to grasp you, to hold you close, to never let you leave.

Then the commotion downstairs dies down as quickly as it started.

You were a human of your word.

He looks to the mug and brings it back to his lips, savoring the bitterly sweet flavor that spreads in his mouth and throat as he drinks it down, never stopping as the warmth continues to burn at his heart and melt him. He wants to savor it, but the greed inside of him wants more and more to drink, to taste more of the feelings you brewed inside the coffee, to feel more of your love.

Lucifer set down the empty cup, his throat tightening as a wave washes over him, a singular tear running down his cheek. He wipes it away gently as he breathes out, shakily, confused.

He wants to drown in this lovely bitter feeling for all of eternity.

───────────────

Mammon believes he doesn’t need you. You may be their attendant to lead them around the Devildom, to get them settled, but he doesn’t need you. After all he’s The Great Mammon! He can do everything himself, if need be. It’s what he’s always done. Looking after his little brothers, looking after his older brother. It’s something he’s always done, even if the other brothers seem to hate him for it, or to berate him for whatever reason. They’re his brothers after all, he knows that they love him, even if they’re a little mean to him. He loves them dearly, even if he can never express it, or put it into actions properly.

But you always see through it somehow. Always giving him a playful smile when he unintentionally compliments his brothers. Never taking his little snide comments to you to heart, only lightly rolling your eyes at him, like you’ve heard it all before.

He doesn’t need you.

He didn’t need you to walk with him through RAD, keeping him from running off away from his classes, holding his arm and ignoring his complaining.

“Lemme go!” He struggled, though, not putting much weight into his struggling or fight. He could toss you off if he desperately wanted to.

“UGGHH I don’t wanna go to my classes! If I do, I’m gonna die. I’m actually gonna die, they’re so boring! Ya’ know that too! You were halfway of fallin’ asleep last period!”

“Yeah but I still managed to write all the notes in the class down, unlike you.”

“Nuh uh! I got m’ notes!”

Liar.

He doesn’t need you to help him. To scold him. He’s already got Lucifer to do all of that. He doesn’t need you he doesn’t.

“Hey!” The sudden snap of your voice caused him to jump as he heard the snickers of a demon running away.

That’s when he saw his wallet being waved around in the demons hand, as if mocking Mammon because of the fact he was robbed blind, barely even registering it.

Mammon didn’t need you, he couldn’t easily just chased after the demon and caught up to them no problem. After all, he was the most fast of his brothers. Fastest swimmer, flyer, runner. He would’ve caught up with the demon if you hadn’t chased after them, sprinting after them and catching up only a few feet away, tackling them to the ground and slamming their head to the ground.

“Get offa me!” The demon yelled, trying to stretch themselves from you getting the wallet. “That traitor angel has Diavolo wrapped around his finger! It’s not like he’ll miss petty pocket change!”

This only angered you further. Mammon could only watch with wide eyes as you, a human, began to plummet the demons face in. Hitting them, scratching them, anything you could do to their face to make then scream and wail and try and fight you off. They tried to shove you, but you grabbed their horns and slammed their head down into the marble, rendering them completely dazed. You snatched the wallet from their loosened grip, standing up with a disgusted grimace, and spit down onto them.

“Next time I see your disgusting face around here again, I’ll curse you to live in eternal agony.” You gritted your teeth, giving a kick to the demons side, and walking off back to Mammon.

He didn’t need you. He could’ve done it himself. He doesn’t need a human to defend him, to fight for him, he doesn’t need-

“Here you go Mams.” You smiled, wiping your bloodied knuckles on your uniform pants. His wallet in one piece. “Make sure to keep your wallet in the side pocket. That way you don’t get your wallet swiped. Trust me, I’ve learned from experience.”

You were snickering as if nothing big just happened, grabbing his arm and dragging him off to the next class as he was in a daze, looking down at the wallet. There was a small bit of blood on the leather.

He…

Mammon’s heart began to race as he wiped the blood off the leather with his thumb, swallowing hard. A warmth crawling up his neck and spreading across his cheeks.

He… wants you to need him too…

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Mammon hated today. He hated everything today. Leviathan blamed him for stealing some stupid figure from his room and complained to Lucifer. Lucifer decided it would be a great idea to string him up on the chandelier again for making Leviathan bother him while he was working and for stealing. Not listening to his protests. He was struggling against the binds as Asmodeus sighed pitifully at Mammon.

“Seriously, Mammon, you need to learn from your mistakes. This is, like, what, the fifth time this week.” Asmodeus looked down at his nails and picked at one of them.

“I told ya! It ain’t my fault! I didn’t steal shit from Levi!”

“Yes you did! Just admit it!” Levi cried. “It was a rare collectible! My prized jewel! I know you stole it, scummy Mammon! Give it back!”

“I didn’t. Steal. Yer’. Stupid. Toy!”

“It isn’t a toy! Monster!”

“Hey!” Your voice was like a saving grace to Mammon when he heard you coming through the door, a hand on your hip. “The hells going on?”

“Mammon stole my ultra Ruri-Chan figurine! I know he did! He was the only one in my room today!”

“Did you?” You asked, looking at Mammon with a raised brow.

“No!” He yelled, tears almost coming into his eyes in frustration, only seeing Lucifer just stand idly by silently. “I didn’t steal shit! Sure I’ll steal somethin’ else from the house but I ain’t touching shit from Levi’s stuff! It’s all junk anyways!”

“You take that back!-“

“Enough.” Your voice silenced their bickering. You stepped forward and looked to Lucifer. “Let him down.”

The other brothers watched in awe at your tone, demanding Lucifer to do what you wanted. Lucifer raised a brow at you, testing you, expecting you to immediately back down. But your little staring contest ended in Lucifer sighing and snapping the rope and letting Mammon fall to the ground. He groaned but looked up at you with admiration, and a gratitude as his eyes continued to water. The frame of your figure was like a sunrise in the Devildom, purely beautiful to him, better than gold. His heart thrummed in his chest violently.

“Hey!” Levi whined. “He didn’t give my figurine back! He didn’t even apologize!”

“Levi,” you look at him and Levi wilted back. “You should clean your room once in a while. I found the figurine box buried under your clothes. It fell from the shelf because of the other figurines on it.”

Levi’s face burst into red, embarrassed. He began fiddling with his fingers, finding his nails more interesting. He avoided Mammon’s gaze the most, more than yours, as you untied Mammon easily.

“Levi.”

You give him a little look, a raised brow. Like you were a disappointed parent. Lately you’ve tried to get the brothers to apologize more to Mammon whenever he is accused of things that he hasn’t done. Especially Levi and Mammon. You hoped to bring them closer, or at least stop them from constantly yelling at one another. Also to communicate, even a little bit better with one another.

“I-I know…” Leviathan muttered under his breath, looking at Mammon finally as he stood up. Levi breathed in and sighed.

“I’m sorry… I-I just-“ Levi’s face grew more redder than before, it almost rivaled any Devildom equivalent tomato. “I’m sorry Mammon. You know I get very protective over my stuff… Especially those figurines… I’m-I’m really sorry!”

Mammon couldn’t even feel the anger he felt before, staring at Levi, but his focus was mainly on you, what you did for him. He looked at Levi, than to you. You were more preoccupied looking over his skin and rubbing a loving touch over the slight rope burn on his skin.

“Uhm… Yeah.” Mammon looked down at floor with his face a little red from your soft touches. “It’s fine. Just quit blammin’ me for the fact you’re so messy, Levi. That rooms a pigsty, somethin’ is bound to get lost.”

“Hey! I-“ Levi looked at you and saw a look in your eyes, he immediately shut his mouth and nodded, running off back to his room and shutting the door.

Mammon was silently led by you to his room, much to the complaints of his other brothers, but he couldn’t have felt more proud as they complained, your attention solely on him. You sat down on his bed, looking at him as he stood there. He tried to ignore the drumming of his heart racing, the swelling, the tightness in his throat.

“Y’- y’gonna scold me now?”

“Do you think I am?”

“…no…”

“Then you know my answer.”

Mammon couldn’t hear anything else other than his ramming heart. He couldn’t focus. The pain and frustration of earlier mattered little to what he felt right now. You motioned him closer. He slowly approached and you grabbed his hand gently, sitting him down beside you and tapping your thigh. He settled his head on your lap, awkwardly.

He swallowed as you ran your fingers through his hair.

“You okay?” You asked quietly.

He couldn’t be more okay than right now. He nodded as he buried his face with a turn of his head into your stomach, smothering himself in the smell of your shirt and your skin. There was the scent of detergent along with the sweet scent of you. It was a warmth of you that made him want to cry. You always focused on him, like he was more important and than anything else. More important than money, than gold, higher than any deity. Like he was your everything, and the way you ran his fingers through his hair, he was brought back to a weird nostalgia. As if this has happened many times before. Your voice. Your touch. Your smell. It all felt…right.

He never wanted to leave this. Not at all.

“Yknow,” you spoke up, twirling a strand of his white hair. “Even though you can be a pain in my ass for getting in trouble so much…”

He grunted into your shirt, as if warning you about your words, which was a fruitless threat.

“You’re the best first man I could ever ask for.”

His breath caught his throat and tears welled up in his eyes, now soaking into the fabric of your shirt. His lower lip trembled and he tried to smother himself further into you, wrapping his arms around you tightly, sniffling. That “first man” again… It made his heart soar, it made him want to hold you even tighter, to protect you like you protect him, it made him want to do everything for you, to bring you the joys that the world would have to offer, no matter the cost of Grimm.

“I love you…” He mutters. He wants to say it more. He wants to whisper it eternally, he wants you to feel what he feels, to suffer what he feels and how beautifully his chest aches for you, how there are words he wants to scream out to you.

“I love you… I love you…” He continues. Sniffling. He hates crying but he can’t help it.

He is your first man, as you’ve said. It’s his job to protect you, to provide for you, to give you the entire world, if you asked him to. And he’s more than willing to do it.

───────────────

It was your mission to change Levi, even a little bit. By change, you wanted to bring confidence to him, a confidence he never had in the Devildom or the Celestial Realm. Even a little bit of it would go a long way. You’ve made a little progress, which goes a long way in your book, but there are set backs to your hard work.

Like the demons at RAD especially.

It irritated you to no end about how they make fun of Levi, it pissed you off. But Levi didn’t understand your anger. He would sulk constantly because he knew what they were saying, but it wasn’t like you were apart of their comments about him. Levi just didn’t get you.

Especially when you do the things he doesn’t expect people do to for him. You fuel his spirits as an otaku. You buy him mangas you knew he’d love, watch anime with him constantly when you were over at the HOL, playing games with him or watching him play. It brought him a peace he didn’t know he could achieve, it made his heart race, his hands sweat, and face heat up. It was everything he ever wanted and more. Perfect, even. And it was hard to say “perfect” in the House of Lamentation, especially around his brothers.

You two were sitting in the partially empty classroom with other demons taking their seats, waiting for class to start. He was rambling about the new game he hoped to get so you can play together.

“I heard that it’s an open world and there’s so many options you can do as of gameplay that can also build your character and their personality that will affect the choices that will pop up in the game! Oh and-“

“Oh my gosh does this guy ever shut up?” You heard a demon behind you whisper. Well, not exactly whisper. They made it to where Levi could hear what they said.

Levi immediately shut his mouth tightly, looking down at the table, picking his painted nails quietly as his cheeks turned red from embarrassment. This made you grit your teeth, turning around to the demon who continued to idly chat to their table partner.

“Hey, what the hell is your problem?”

“No… MC you don’t have to-“

“My problem? What’s his problem? He’s been going a mile a minute without a single breath and it’s annoying. Plus he was talking too loud and basically made it hard for me to even have a conversation.” The demon sneered at you, leaning their cheek against their hand. “I basically did you a favor by saying what we’re all thinking.”

You opened your mouth to say something else, to argue for Levi, but he grabbed your hand gently. “It’s fine… I mean I was being weird and-“

“You know what.” You interrupted, looking at the demon. “We’re sorry for interrupting your conversation.”

You turned away from the demon’s table, leaving Levi to sit there and stare at you, doubt immediately filling his mind. Did you mean that? Did you agree with the demon? But you were staring at him so sweetly as he explained his game… Was he just seeing it- was-

Then he heard the sound of muffled yelling and the words of the demon desk mate of the other rude demon who interrupted you and Levi’s conversation. Levi turned back to see the demon clawing at their face, mainly their mouth, which appeared to be sealed shut, as if their lips were glued together. Levi turned to you when he saw your slightly sadistic smirk as the two demon deskmates hurried out of the room.

Levi looked at you, then back at the door the demon scurried out of, then back at you. You were smiling, those eyes explained everything he needed to know about what happened.

“We can’t interrupt their conversation if they can’t have one, can we?”

Levi stared at you like a fish out of water, wide eyes and red cheeks as his heart raced, confused thoughts racing through his mind. Why? Why do this for someone like him?

“Levi? Aren’t you gonna tell me more about the game? You have to! We’re gonna play it together, right? I gotta know all about it first so we can enjoy it!” Grinning playfully at him, all thoughts were thrown out of the window as he relaxed.

That’s right, he never wanted anything more than to talk to you.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

“MC! MC YOU WONT BELIEVE THIS!” He was practically shaking you before you even stepped foot in his door. Somehow he detected that you were walking down the hallway to his room and he opened the door before you knocked and said the passcode.

“Uh, what can’t I believe?” You gently put your hands on his shoulders to stop him from rattling your brain too much.

“COME IN! LOOK!” He dragged you inside and shut the door, locking it so no normies (his brothers) entered the room.

He pointed to his partially filled up bookshelf filled with hardcovers and manga volumes. There, on a lone shelf with a single hard book, was the infamous TSL book you saw when you first arrived to the Devildom and spoke to Levi.

“There’s finally a hardcover book on Tales of Seven Lords! Can you believe it!? I was the first one to revive the book! The hardcover no less! Look at it!” He grabbed it off the shelf and shoved it in your hands to look at the skillfully crafted art covered front.

“IM SO SO HAPPY! I could die! I could literally die right now!” He squealed and bounced up and down and barely even breathing from his excitement, on the verge of gritting his teeth as he clenched and unclenched his fists to conceal the urge to just explode! “OH! MC, so you know the third lord right!? The lord-“

“The Lord of Shadows.” You smiled at him fondly, as if reminiscing on a memory that was most treasured to you, the day you two first met, gazing at him with just as much devotion as it was in your words.

He stopped slowly, staring at you with wide eyes and he blinked. You knew about TSL? Well, it’s no wonder you knew about it, it’s pretty famous and he did ramble to you about it more than once, and during those rambles you’d always… Stare at him. With those eyes so soft and urging him to continue, never stopping him once. Even when he went on for hours and hours you never stopped him unless you wanted to get a snack or drink or use the bathroom, even then you always came back and would sit down right next to him and just… Listen. Usually incorporating your own thoughts into the conversation, but mainly letting him speak. And in those rambles, you remembered everything. The memories itself made him blush and heart pound, his hands sweating and his legs feel like jello.

Even now, the way you looked at him, it made him feel even worse, as if his legs would give out any moment and he would collapse into your arms and still you would look at him with that expression. So warm and loving, something he never thought in his loser life he’d see. He’s only seen it in anime, never IRL.

“Levi?” The sound of his name snapped him out of his stupor.

“Uh- Huh? What?”

“You were telling me about the Lord of Shadows, yeah? What did you wanna say?”

“I uh…” he can’t speak, his mouth feels dry as tears well up in his eyes, the overwhelming warmth crawling in his chest and prickling his skin. He wants to crush you in a hug, or he just wants to kiss you- okay no too far! He… He doesn’t know what to do with himself. All he can do is breathe shallowly as he stares at you, the tears running down his face.

“Levi?” You furrow your brows in concern, putting the book gently back in its place on the shelf, and stepping forward to him, a hand pressed against his cheek. “You alright?”

Oh the warmth of your skin sends tingles up his spine. He relaxes into the softness of your palm, more tears running down his face. It felt so right, so perfect, like time never passed and it was just you and him in this moment. He never thought he’d experience this normie encounter, this ‘love’, that he always watched or read about in cheesy anime romances, but the way you rubbed his tears away only made it more solid for him, more real.

“Are you okay?” You ask again, more quietly, softly, as if he would lurch away from you like a frightened fish.

“Yes…” He breathed out, sniffling. He shuts his eyes tightly, not being able to look you in the eye, and brings you into his arms, needing to feel more of your warmth, of your pure love. “I just… really, really, really like you. Like… uhm… like like you.”

You chuckle quietly as his embarrassment, running your fingers through his hair. “I like like you too, Lev.”

His blush only worsened as he buried his face in your neck, breathing in the scent of your skin, holding you even tighter.

You always listened to him. You have him all the confidence he could ever want in the world, even if it wasn’t much. He’d promise that one day, he was gonna have enough confidence to let the words “love you” slip from his lips and not in his texts…

───────────────

Satan is angry. He was born angry. Angry over what? He never understood why he was angry, he just was. The urge to just destroy, to tear everything he touched, saw, smelled and tasted apart. To rip into everything and make sure nothing would be recognized from it, whether that be a person or an object.

He never understands why he’s like this.

He doesn’t wanna be like this. He doesn’t wanna constantly feel the rage bubbling inside his chest and cause him to clench his fists tight, to make him grit his teeth, to make the unshed tears of frustration well in his eyes and almost fall. He doesn’t want to feel them. He wants to understand why he feels this way constantly, why it gets to the point he wants to rip off his own skin, to claw his way out of his flesh and rip his hair out, to rip anyone apart, even his proclaimed brothers.

Satan was angry at them the most.

Anything they did made him angry and he hated being angry and he hated it when they did it constantly. The yelling, the pointless bickering, the scheming, Lucifer, Lucifer, Lucifer. He blamed Lucifer for all of this, for making him the way he is. He’s angry over something that’s now passed and what is his purpose now? What is he supposed to be angry about now? He doesn’t even know why he’s supposed to be angry in the first place, tell him Lucifer, tell him what the point is in being angry over something he doesn’t understand. Was this his punishment for a war he didn’t even realize he was apart of?

He doesn’t understand and that makes him even more angry. He hates being angry. He hates his brothers. He hates everything and it’s a pain because he doesn’t want to. He can only hope that this anger tires him out so he can sleep, the only time ever him and his brothers ever find peace.

But there is no peace or rest for Wrath.

It surges through him as Satan tosses the coffee table to the wall, shattering the glass and causing the wall to crack, leaving an indent in it. He yells at nothing, the animalistic snarls and growls echoing through the living room as he continues to break everything in his sight and throw everything. His brothers can only watch as he destroys the living room.

“Satan!” He hears Asmo yell. “Stop it! You’re gonna throw something at us! If something hits my face you’re so dead!”

“Seriously Satan, calm down! It’s not the serious!” Mammon chimed in, trying to enter the living room but was quickly conked in the head by a hardcover book. “OW! Hey! That’s it! When you’re done with yer little temper tantrum, you better run!”

“Shut up, you imbecile!” Satan yelled, his throat tightening. He hates what he’s doing but he can’t help it. The anger hurts so much he can’t help but destroy. Even the precious books we was starting to enjoy, the thing that taught him what he needed to know about this new world he was created in.

“Satan,” HIS voice finds its way in Satan’s ears and he tenses, gritting his teeth, the anger almost bursting inside of him like a volcano, only worsening at the sound of Lucifer. “Don’t make me have to string you up at the chandelier again.”

Satan turned his head to his eldest brother, a sneer present across his face. They both stares each other down, Satan’s wrath boiling over. He was on the verge of pouncing when you suddenly showed up. You must’ve heard the commotion of crashing and yelling while on your way to HOL and came over immediately, maneuvering your way through the brothers.

Satan stares back at you, the rage inside of him still eating it’s way out of him. He wants to hurt you too. And that’s what makes him hate himself and his sin even more.

“Satan?” Your voice calls to him as he clenched his fists, shaking with anger. The frustrated tears began to leak from his eyes, down his cheeks, his teeth clenched so tight they could break.

“Hey,” you approach him slowly, taking small steps forward, your arms raised and open for him. “Cmere. It’s alright, let’s breathe, okay?”

“We’ve been telling him to breathe!” Asmo said with a pout. “But he wouldn’t-“

You looked at Asmo and he closed his mouth, seeing the look in your eyes saying “not now” and he understood. The brothers were ushered away by Lucifer when you looked at him. Crowding Satan wasn’t helping and you knew this.

“Satan?” You called again, his name sliding off of your lips like it was a name that was only meant for a demon that is important.

He couldn’t answer you as he continued to tremble, his nails digging into his palms.

“Hey…” You motioned your arms a little with a smile, stepping forward, closer to him, only inches away. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

He nods, slowly, swallowing hard as he tries to breathe but it comes off as rapid and heavy, given that he basically trashed the entire living room for half an hour.

Your warm arms wrapped around his torso. He was stiff as a board, still shaking, not returning your hug, afraid of hurting you if he even dared to touch you. Your hold was gentle as you brought his head closer to your shoulder for him to lean into, his heavy breathing hitting your neck as well as a bit of sweat and the tears that went down his face. Your fingers danced through his blonde hair. Your breathing was relaxed, composed, your heartbeat did not skip. It was calm. You were calm. Not worried at all around him, only leaning your head on his as your fingers continued to thread through his hair.

Satan’s shaky hands slowly came up around you, finding their way to your shirt, gripping it tightly, almost close to tearing it from his sharp nails. His face buried itself further into the crook of your neck, the tears hitting your skin hard as he breathed out shakily, biting his tongue to silence himself and try and hold himself together, but his resolve was breaking at the seams from how you held him so gently, like he was the fragile one and not the demon that destroyed everything in the house.

His breath hitched and a choked back cry left his throat, his legs slowly giving out beneath him as he began to crumple to the floor. You followed him, guiding his body down to the ground and still continuing to hold him. He was practically in your lap now, legs tightly around your waist as tightly as the hands that gripped your shirt. His anger began to simmer to a halt immediately, the scent of you overwhelming it, bringing his racing heart to a calming pace as he matched your breathing. The adrenaline coming down, leaving him at an all time low.

It was never usually like this after his rampages… He never felt this much clarity, no matter how bittersweet.

“You wanna talk about it?”

He didn’t give any indication of yes or no, simply keeping still.

“Was it your brothers?”

A slow nod. Yes.

“They say something to you?”

He shook his head. No.

“Mm. Too loud today?”

Nod. Yes.

“I’m guessing you were reading?”

He didn’t even need to nod for you to know. You sighed quietly. You’d have to scold them. But that could come later.

“I’m sorry…” his voice rasped out, muffled by your skin.

“About the furniture? Don’t worry, I got it covered-“

“No. About the book. The book I was reading.” He said, his grip on you getting tighter, like an apology. “It got so loud I snapped it in half… All of the pages were everywhere and that made me angrier… You got that book for me and I wanted to read it in the living room but they just ruined it… They ruined the reading time I wanted and I ruined the book… I’m sorry… I’m so-“

“Hey,” you move your hand up to his cheek, making him reluctantly move himself away from your neck and look into your eyes. “Don’t worry about the book. I’m more worried about you. I can always get another for you.”

You were worried about him. There was no doubt you saw the state of the living room; the overturned, torn couches that bled out fluff everywhere, the scratched up walls with a few dents in them from him throwing everything he could at them, broken glass here and there, splinters, and more. And yet you were more concerned about him.

Satan’s heart pounded softy in his chest, tightening, he swallowed again. He wasn’t angry or overwhelmed with rage, just warm. A good warm. A warmth that could only be described as admiration as the soft look started to get into his head, unable to remove it from his memory, which it was engrained in.

He buried his face back into your neck. He was exhausted and you weren’t making it any easier on him. The exhaustion of his rampage hit him like a truck and the warmth of your words and your body only soothed him further. Is this what the brothers meant by the Celestial Realm? Describing the bliss of it, the clarity, the pure warmth with the sun constantly beaming down on them. You were Satan’s sun in the dark Devildom, lulling him to sleep.

You smile at him and kiss his temple, the flesh tingling after your lips leave his skin. His heart was practically buzzing now.

You always took care of him…

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

“MC, is there a reason you’re covering my eyes?”

“It’s a surprise! You’ll know it when you see it! Oh- watch your footing here, there’s a few holes in the pavement.”

Your hands covered Satan’s eyes, leading him over to who-knows-where with a smile on your face, almost mischievous, or maybe it just looked that way due to your excitement. You led him carefully through the Devildom Main Street, going past stores and other shops, mindful of the demons walking past the two of you. Your smile only grew as you made him stop.

“Are we there?”

“Yup! You just need to reach out your hand, okay? Push.” You instructed, leading him to the door.

He followed your instructions and pushed open the door, the sound of a bell chiming and the scent of coffee and tea enveloping his senses, as well as the sudden feeling of something rubbing against his leg. You removed your hands and suddenly Satan’s eyes adjusted to the soft lights, as well as the noise of… meowing?

He looked down to see an orange cat rubbing itself against his leg, purring loudly and chittering as it did so. Satan’s eyes grew wide as he looked at him, a bubbling of excitement building in his chest. He looked at you.

“Surprise! It’s a cat cafe! It opened a few weeks ago and I just had to bring you! They even have a little bookshop just across the way so it’s pretty convenient and cozy, yeah? Oh! Before that!” You grabbed his hand and led him to a booth by the window. “I got us seats reserved beforehand!”

Satan could only mutely follow your lead and sit down at the booth, the orange cat returning to jump onto the table and sit there proudly, a little lazy smile on its face. Satan looked at you again.

“You- You did this for me?”

“Mhm!” A waiter came by and handed you the menus and you skimmed through it, already knowing what was on the menu given that this cafe was there in the future, you having gone to it multiple times before with Satan.

Satan could barely breathe as you handed him the menu, looking down at it and then to the cat, who slowly blinked at him. He slowly blinked back with a small smile. You snickered under your breathe when you practically saw stars forming in his eyes at the orange cat that now lazily laid itself on the table, as if it owned the place, as expected of many cats.

“Thank you MC…” He said, petting the cat on its side with a soft smile. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I didn’t.” You smiled. “But I wanted to.”

Satan has always read about love in romance novels, always seen how the author describes love as a bundle of emotions that mix into one, becoming overwhelming, in a way that is painful, but it feels good, the pain, as it is described. Needing to hold the lover so tightly, needing more and more of their mind, body, and soul, needing their warmth, unable to breathe unless speaking their name. And when they speak their name of their lover, it’s like taking a breath in of their existence and exhaling it, needing more and more of their entire being that consumes the mind of the protagonist.

Satan never understood the feeling until now. Gazing upon you as the streetlights beam through the window and cast upon your face, almost like a halo or as if you were descending from the Heavens and in front of him now. Satan could barely breathe, nor think, for the very first time. This feeling he felt, he realized that it would last lifetimes, even more. Seeing you would be like falling in love for the very first time.

He began to thank his Father in the Celestial Realm, a Father whom he’s never met, but thanks him anyway, for creating you, for letting you sit in the booth with him now.

He doesn’t even realize your hand had enveloped his across the table, fingers intertwined perfectly. His fingers closed in on your hand. Oh your warmth… His heart pounded and eyes began to tear up without his notice.

Oh the love inside his chest as he stared at you, never breaking the silence with you and enjoying the bliss of the somewhat quiet cafe, the occasional chatter of demons, the clang of silverware, the meowing the cats. He felt no anger boil inside of him, just peace, peace for the very first time.

“I love you, MC.” He blurted out, the word ‘love’ heavy on his tongue, exhaling your name. He felt like it wasn’t enough.

Your smile made his heart almost stop. “I love you too Satan.”

He firmly head your hand, blinking back the tears that came from the weird familiarity that bloomed in his chest. It’s like he’s known you for decades, even more, and loved you for longer.

“I love you.” He repeats, more softly.

There’s a glint in your eyes, like you know. Like you’ve always known. “I love you too.”

He was born from rage, but you give him new purpose, you complete his newly formed heart. And he hopes that his existence can complete yours, as well.

───────────────

Asmodeus is beautiful, everyone knows this. The Jewel of the Heavens, now the Jewel of Hell. Quite literally a diamond in the rough. But somehow he shines despite this, and he knows this, he can tell by the way some demons start to warm up to him, or begin to stare for longer at him than they previously did when he first arrived at the Devildom.

He adores the attention. He craves it. He knows he’s beautiful, but to be appreciated for his beauty is even more than what he could ask for.

But yet it isn’t enough. He loves it yet somehow it… irritates him.

Perhaps it is the fact he’s still seen as the jewel of heaven? Loved for who he once was, not the beauty of who he is now? Maybe they are right with how they viewed him. His old self was probably better than who he is now. No longer as pure as he was, no longer with those beautiful wings and now stuck with the ugly leather and scorpion tail.

He knows he’s beautiful, he does. But yet why does he feel sick looking at himself in the reflection of his mirror, no longer seeing himself as Asmodeus and rather a stranger.

Asmo is torn between his thoughts, trying to find himself among the doubt, the insecurity, the pain of who he is. Give him the attention he deserves, the attention he needs, but see him.

See him… Please.

Love him.

Please…

I can’t be the only one that loves myself, can I?

But then you came into his life, to his brothers lives, in all your glory as a human being in the scary Devildom, completely unafraid by the demons around you, their strength, and the strange ingredients and the wildlife that surrounds you.

At first, he thought you would be like most humans he heard demons talk about, including angels. All humans are known for being helpless against temptation, all falling to the urges of power or lust, it was quite simple to do. But with you, it’s like you saw right through him, eyes sharp and looking past the persona he’s built for himself for eons, all in a single glance.

It terrified him.

You somehow could read him as easily as a book and it scared him. You saw past his beauty and it scared him. You saw his insecurities in himself, the occasional doubt, and it makes him almost want to cry. You could easily use this ability to your advantage, take him down a notch, to ruin him in the Devildom, or to use him as your own benefit.

But you don’t.

Instead, you protect him with your life practically on the line, forgetting you are a lone human (aside from Solomon) in a realm of demons, protecting him from the lowlife that try and take advantage of him as the newly established Avatar of Lust.

You two were at Majolshi. You came with him often in the Devildom, acting like a guard dog in a way, and keeping him up to date with a latest Devildom fashion. After all, he’s trying to establish himself in the Devildom as an influencer.

“Hey, Asmo,” you called to him. He looked up from the rack of clothes he was filing through. “I’m gonna go to the register to check these out, okay? If you wanna get any more, just hand it to me, my treat.”

Asmo gave you a surprised look and then pouted. “Darling! I could easily pay for everything! You may be my attendant, but you don’t need to spoil me so much!”

“But I like spoiling you.” Your smile was sweeter than sweet, like saccharine, and it made his heart jump to his throat. It threw all other thoughts out the window and he nodded dumbly, accepting you paying for him.

He looked back at the rack and felt his cheeks heat up, a dumb smile on his face. He was acting as if he were a Highschool teen that had a crush. He couldn’t help but silently giggle to himself as he thought of it, considering it so silly. But he didn’t mind it… He’s always been a sucker for romances. And adding you to the mix only made it worse.

Then suddenly he felt arms wrap around his waist. He froze.

The thing about Asmo is that he knew your touch like the back of his hand. Your touch was soft, warm, any imperfections in your hands he has memorized, practically engraved into his skin.

This was not your touch.

It was cold. Rough. Unfamiliar.

It made him sick.

“Hey there,” the feeling of disgusting hot breath fanned on his beautiful skin, causing his nose to curl in disgust. “You’re the Avatar of Lust, right? Asmodeus? Yknow, I don’t understand how the Celestial Realm could get rid of a prize like you.”

Asmo clenched his fists, ready to toss this disgusting filth into a wall and break all of their limb.

“Oh well, more for us here in the Devildom, right?”

“Hey!”

The sound of your voice was like hearing a heroine arrive in a moment of bleakness. Asmo perked up but immediately felt his heart drop when you stopped over to him and the stranger, anger present on your face. You couldn’t possibly be thinking of attacking the demon, could you? As a human? You’d surely die! Or- Or-

You punched the demon square in the jaw, throwing them into the ground and immediately tackling them. Asmo could only gasp as you used all your strength inside your body to practically tear this demon apart with your bare hands, gritting your teeth and cursing under your breath. To others, you’d look like an unhinged animal, but to him, you couldn’t he anymore beautiful.

A worker came over and ripped you off of the demon, ushering you two to leave with your paid for items in hand.

You were panting as you and Asmo stood there in the street. Asmo was silent as you looked him over.

“You okay?” You asked, grabbing his hand. Your knuckles were cut open and bloody. He felt his heart break seeing your beautiful skin all torn.

“I should be asking you that…” He mumbled, grabbing your hand with a frown. “You didn’t need to do that for me, I’m not fragile…”

“I know this,” you said quickly, but then blushed a little and rubbed the back of your neck with a sheepish smile. “I just want to protect you! Cause I’m your attendant!”

“But you’re also human.” He whispered, eyes flickering to the people walking up and down the street.

“I know. But that won’t stop me from doing everything I can to protect you.”

Asmo felt his heart skip a beat at your words, his face further heating up, and he squealed quietly and pulled you into a hug, nuzzling his face into your hair as you chuckle.

He loves you. He adores you. He loves you so, so much.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

“Lamb, I don’t understand why you want to do this for me. As much as I love and appreciate it, I can do my makeup on my own!” Asmo pouted at you as you applied his foundation, softly dabbing the sponge across his face.

You only smile and pick up the brush to apply the red blush on his cheeks. “I know this but I like doing it anyways.”

It had been only a month ago when he asked you to do his makeup once, opting to know how you’d do his makeup and to brag to his brothers at how close the two of you were. But something changed the day you did his makeup. The way you would stop for a moment, staring directly into his eyes. It wasn’t like you were under his hypnosis or influence, he found that you were immune to it, but somehow you acted as if you were completely enamored by him.

And you were.

Even now, you caressed his cheek and would glance into his eyes, so close to him but not close enough. It started to make his heart race, his cheeks burst with color, and hands grow sweaty. It was strange for the Avatar of Lust to act so smitten with a mere human, yet here he was, completely floored for you.

You applied the blush to his cheeks, the bristles tickling his skin and he giggles lightly, unable to keep still in his seat.

“You’re so cute.” He said, wanting badly to just kiss your face, to hold it in his hands, but he had to keep himself still, lest you accidentally apply the blush to his forehead.

You said nothing, grabbing the lipstick, and grabbing his chin gently, as if he were a doll. This gave him a chance to look directly into your own eyes.

He hated it when you applied his lipstick, it forced him to look into those gorgeous eyes of yours and it made him fall even harder than he did previously. He swallowed as you gently moved the lipstick across his bottom lip first, glancing up at him and the way he stared back at you. Your smile only worsened the pounding in his chest. Was the air always this thick?

As you applied to the top lip, he could feel himself drown in the pools of your eyes, like you had his power instead. And the more he stared, the more he didn’t mind being completely miffed by you, being under your control. And it’s even more knowing that as much as he worships you, practically on the verge of kissing your feet, you worshipped him just as much in a way that makes him just want to hold you for eternity.

“Asmo?” Your voice called to him, already done. Though, you didn’t need to do much to enhance his beauty.

“Y-Yes?” He cursed himself for sounding so nervous, demanding confidence. It was so strange how he would become so flustered when it should be the other way around!

“You’re so beautiful…”

He’s heard his many time from others, but from you, it meant more.

To you, the word beauty described his whole being. His soul. His body. His mind. All completely beautiful to you, going past beauty and turning it into something more, something he couldn’t describe. The love in your eyes went beyond his own, somehow, going beyond your years.

All adoring him.

He finds himself tearing up, grasping desperately at your hand tightly, swallowing his spit to hydrate his drying throat.

“I love you.”

Lust was never suppose to love, was it? At least, that’s what he’s heard, as an Angel. Lust was selfish, demanding, carnal and uncaring, but you’ve shown him that it is more than what it was painted. There was a need there, a desire, a craving, an itch you cannot quite scratch. All of it filled him with Love.

You leaned in forward to him, pressing your forehead gently on his, your breath fanning against his lips. He holds your face in his hands, keeping you there in front of him, never taking his eyes off of you.

He begins to realize that Solomon sees this face everyday. To wake up to you everyday.

And he envy’s Solomon. What a lucky man…

“I love you too Asmodeus.”

And it sealed it for him.

He will never crave another body of a demon, human, nor angel as much as he craves you. No one could even compare. All he sees is you.

───────────────

Beelzebub is indifferent towards you, at first he believed he was. All that was on his mind was hunger, which irritated him. He loves food, don’t get him wrong, but the agonizing gnawing that comes with Gluttony is both painful and a nuisance. Though, he’s learned to just deal with it now, given that it’s his sin.

Though his brothers don’t seem to understand when he says he’s hungry. They don’t seem to understand the anger that comes with his Gluttony that claws its way in his stomach. It makes him think of everyone as meat, which scares him a little.

“Hey Beel, is something the matter?” Belphie had asked, albeit sleepily.

It was one afternoon at RAD and Beelzebub was bouncing his knee, gripping his stomach as if he were in pain, and biting his inner lip, trying to make the time go by faster. He looked to his twin.

“I’m hungry.”

Belphie was probably the only one who could understand the pain, if only for a little bit. Though, he wouldn’t understand the entirety, he understood more than the others. He pat Beel on the back to attempt to comfort him, but it didn’t do much.

“Lunch is in a few minutes, big guy, don’t worry.” Belphie said with a sympathetic smile.

Beel tried to smile back but it turned into a grimace as his stomach knotted, almost making him think it was eating itself. Then suddenly, you burst in the room, the professor, long since having stopped the lesson and leaving a few minutes of free time, jumped up at the sudden noise.

You matched over to Beel and opened your backpack, throwing out a bunch of snacks on the table of various Devildom chips and chocolates, a few being your favorites. You were sweating like you were running down the hall at full speed, he could hear your heartbeat pounding.

“Here you go Beel.” You huffed and puffed. You sighed and wiped your forehead. “Sorry! I felt that you were hungry so I ran all the way here when my class was wrapping up the lesson.”

“You… Felt I was hungry?” Beel tilted his head at you, eyeing the various treats and his mouth watered.

“Yeah! It’s like a sixth sense. Or maybe… An either sense? I have various senses for all of your brothers. Like now, I feel like Satan is about to flip his lid.” You giggled a little bit, rubbing the back of your neck.

Beel’s heart skipped a beat. “Thank you…” he whispered with a soft smile on his lips, opening up a bag of chips and eating it, he paused when you settled your hand on his head.

“Make sure to eat slowly, okay? I know it’s hard, but savoring it will make the time pass by faster for lunch, okay?”

He nodded mindlessly to you gentle smile, you give Belphie the same headpat, ruffling his already messy hair a bit. He grunted and poured a little but it made you smile even wider, rushing out the room to presumably stop Satan from breaking one of the tables in the classroom again.

Beel stared down at the table filled with snacks, his stomach had stopped its growling, the only sound that filled his ears was the sound of his own heartbeat picking up tempo. Belphie looked to his twin, seemingly sensing what he was feeling.

“You still hungry Beel?”

“Yes…” He gingerly took a chip and ate it slowly, savoring it, like you said. A small smile made its way to his lips. “But not as much anymore.”

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

It’s no secret that you take care of Beelzebub a lot, no secret to his brothers that you have snacks on deck, and it’s no secret that whenever you’re around, his hunger seems to be kind to him and calm down after eating away at him. You’re also soft, which fits the dilemma for him as a soft giant. He towers over his brothers, minus Lucifer, who is only an inch shorter than him (though, he likes to smile at the thought, occasional ideas of holding stuff up to where Lucifer can’t reach, but the last time he did it, he was smacked on the head). Depending on your height, he’s relatively taller than you. But you always have had a hold on him in many ways that he didn’t realize.

It was one night where you and Beel were sitting together in the spare room, a room which you said was “familiar to you,” a similar feeling the brothers all had to the room. Even Belphie, who would sleep there more often than not.

The TV went on while the two of you watched a movie, a random movie that Beel had no opinion to it, just the fact it was new. You seemed to enjoy it, so he kept watching it with you. But he was more focused on the mass amount of popcorn in front of him, all in a huge bowl. He munched away at it, already, half of it was gone. You were next to him.

You then suddenly leaned in closer to him, leaning your head on his shoulder, Beel looked at you for a moment and swallowed the popcorn in his mouth. He was hungry still but grabbed a bit of popcorn and held it up to your lips. You mindlessly ate it, not really paying attention to anything other than the movie, or were just in your own world.

Beel smiled and continued to feed you, completely ignoring his own hunger, finding satisfaction in seeing you eat. It was strange, really. He couldn’t explain it. Every time you ate, he would stare, watching you chew and smile a little at the taste of the food, or look blissfully happy whenever you had something you really enjoyed, like the chocolates from Madam Scream’s or their pudding.

That’s when he stopped, realizing that the half filled bowl started to grow smaller, had he been feeding you all this time? You seemed to notice when your mouth finally realized it needed water.

“Thanks for the popcorn, Beel.” You laughed a little pausing the movie. His face grew a little pink.

“Sorry.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I just wasn’t expecting it. Thank you.”

Beel smiled a little and proceeded to pull you in closer, your back against his chest, his face buried in the side of your neck, holding you close. He wasn’t sure what to do with this feeling burning inside his chest, smelling the scent of your skin. Being near you felt right. The hunger was silenced and he felt full around you, but he couldn’t help but want more of you. You didn’t seem to mind his hold on you, opting to lean back against him and watch the movie, which was nearing its end, but there was no doubt he would continue to hold you even after the movie.

“You want any more popcorn?”

Surprisingly he shook his head and huffed, tightening his grip around you. Not enough to hurt you given his size, just firmly enough to where you can’t move a whole lot.

“Something wrong Beel?“ You ask. Though you know he’s perfectly fine, you just have to be sure. He’s a strong and loving giant, he can be a bit sensitive.

“Mhm. Just wanna hold you…”

You reach your hand up to put your hand to his hair, tilting your head to the side and kissing the side of his head. His arms tightened again, a smile on his face.

He never felt this way before, this much love all for one person. He loves his family and you being apart of it makes it even better. He doesn’t even believe he knows a world where you aren’t apart of it, nor does he ever want to experience it. He doesn’t want to imagine a world where you aren’t in his arms like this, where he doesn’t feed you or eat meals with him and his brothers.

“I love you, MC.”

He blurts it out without even realizing it until he says it, the word love is so sweet on his tongue. He hears you laugh a little. He can feel your heartbeat close to his ear.

“I love you too Beelz.”

After all he’s been through, he never thought he deserved a moment of peace after what he’s lost, but he’s learning to forgive himself. All because of you.

───────────────

Belphie is spoiled. Everyone in the Devildom knows this and everyone in the Celestial realm knows this. Given that he’s the youngest, he’s able to get away with almost anything. Lucifers punishments are akin to a slap on the wrist when it comes to his pranks. Mammon also spoils him rotten, mainly with “mysterious” gifts of soft blankets and pillows and then randomly asking Belphie about them, if he liked them, and trying to justify that is wasn’t him because; “why would I buy somethin’ like that when I can spend it on somethin’ I’d want!” But Belphie isn’t stupid and knows it’s him, but he stops asking if it’s him to keep him quiet so he can nap.

But he’s spoiled brat tendencies never really come out, unless it’s with you.

He pouts and gives you the silent treatment whenever you say you can’t come to the HOL, but quickly gives it up because that takes too much energy when he could spend it talking to you.

He’s also a brat when he comes over to you whenever you are at the HOL and flops himself practically on top of you, smothering you with his body weight, and falling asleep without a care in the world. He’ll only care if you try and get up.

He never was really like this with you, he was mainly indifferent towards you, but after the events of finding out you’re a human and slowly getting closer to you after all that’s happened, he’s was starting to get attached to you, especially when you started cuddling him.

The first time it happened, you had shown up to the HOL to take care of Levi and Asmo fighting this time around, which was surprising since they usually barely even registered one another. It was something about Levi being a shut in and what not, but either way, you took care of it.

You had sat down on the couch after it all, sighing, deciding that maybe you should just pass out from all the running around you had to do. You were an attendant, sure, but you were also a human too, energy tends to deplete faster than you expect.

Belphie suddenly appeared, pillow in arm, eyes all droopy. He’s sleepy, as far as you can tell, but he also looks a bit bitter.

“Move…” He muttered out.

“Pardon?”

“I said move.” He was sounding like a grumpy five year old with how he was acting, a five year old that didn’t have their nap yet.

You snicker at the thought, which made him pout further. You groan. “Just lay your head on my lap if you’re that tired.”

This made him feel wide awake. His eyes widen a fraction. He never really thought about laying his head on your lap. He mainly only ever laid his head on the laps of his brothers, well, mostly by force, unless it’s Beel. Beel is more than happy to let his twin sleep near him. But then there’s you.

Belphie thought for a moment and then sat down on the couch near you, leaning down to put his head in your lap. You sigh and lean your head back again against the cushions of the couch, hearing the crackle of the fire in the living room.

He was stiff until you started running your fingers through his hair and he immediately relaxed, his eyes growing heavy again.

It was strange.

For a moment it felt like time stilled, like all else had disappeared and it left just the two of you.

He’s never felt more warm in the Devildom before when it feel so cold all around him, so unnatural.

But you somehow make his life feel more normal, more like home. He still felt bitter, bitter towards you, mainly being human, he sometimes wishes you were a demon, but the more he thought about the more he never saw you as a demon in the first place. You are far too trusting, empathetic and considerate and a bit of a smart ass while making a few dumb decisions here and there. So perfectly human.

Was this how Lilith felt when she met her human?

Belphie couldn’t help but feel so bittersweet while laying there, head in your lap, hand against your thigh, letting you run your fingers through his hair gently, partly caressing his face.

He shut his eyes and yawned. His yawn affected you, the two of you growing sleepy together. He could feel it too, your drowsiness. His hand inched closer to yours, grabbing it gently, his pointer and middle finger encircling your own lazily.

Belphie smiled and closed his eyes, quickly drifting off into a quiet dream, a dream where it’s just you and him just together. No words needed.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Belphie learned he could enter dreams the night he went into yours by accident.

It was an accident, truly. He didn’t mean to enter it. The two of you were just in the attic space, laying on the plush bed with the hundreds of pillows and blankets, sleeping the day away, when he fell asleep.

His dream, rather your dream, was dark. Just pitch black. It was like being in a silent, dark room, searching for a light, but somehow you could see yourself.

Belphie moved forward, though slowly, like moving through tar. He stopped when he heard light gasping, choking.

He only turned a fraction to his left to see it. A figure, closely resembling himself, holding you by one hand, tightly gripping your throat. Veins pulsed and bulged beneath your skin, even he could feel his face throbbing as the breath escaped you.

Belphie watched in horror.

His heart was racing. His stomach at the pits of whatever darkness was beneath his feet. Hands shaking and body strangely cold.

He hated that look on your face, the tears that streamed down your cheeks, how utterly helpless you looked.

You were his attendant, always so brave in his eyes. Not even wavering against Lucifer’s rage, not once.

And yet you were helpless against this strange, black silhouette that held his image, foggy yet so clear.

Belphie charged at his shadow self and grabbed it, tossing it to the side, forcing it away with whatever sheer will he could muster. It clawed, it snarled like an animal, it cursed and yelled but Belphie shut her ears to the nonsense it was sprouting with clenched fists.

He would never do that to you.

But…

He looked down at you, your gasping form, writhing in agony.

He felt like this happened before.

But why?

He wouldn’t hurt you, he would never hurt you! You loved him, his brothers, Beel! You took care of them, you adored them, you spoiled them rotten, especially him. Your care was gentle as your love was passionate. Why would he ever want to hurt you??

You looked up, fear flashing across your face.

Please… Don’t look at him like that…

Belphie shook himself from the dream, waking up with his head on your chest and body in between your legs. You were somehow still asleep, but with a look of discomfort.

Belphie grabbed your hand, firmly, and sniffled against your shirt, shutting his eyes tightly.

He wanted to give you a good dream, you deserved to have that, at the very least. You, of all people, do not deserve to be tortured senselessly for no reason.

As he rubbed your knuckles with his thumb, mostly to calm himself as he listened to your heartbeat growing steady, he heard you sigh and that discomfort left your face, relaxing into a smile.

Belphie took this moment to let his lower lip quiver and a small cry left his lips and a little sniffle. He let go of your hand.

He needed to go. There’s no way he could be around you if… If there was a chance he ever hurt you.

As he moved, you shifted.

“Belphie?”

He jumped when he heard you call his name, wiping his eyes in a hurried manner.

“You saw, didn’t you?”

It wasn’t a known secret you still had nightmares about that day, albeit rarely. Sometimes it just happens whenever your brain decides to torment you. And these were one of those days. And it was even worse it was with Belphie who really ended up being in your dream, saving you from himself.

His nod only confirmed it, which made your heart break. You sighed and reached for his hand and, just as he grabbed yours, held it firmly.

“…do you really think I’d do that to you…?”

“No. Not now. But would you have when you found out I was human?”

“…I don’t think so? I don’t know.. it was happening so fast then, I don’t see why I would just- just do that. I was a little angry that you lied to me, mostly, but I wouldn’t have-“

“Killed me?”

The word made him flinch. Human mortality was no secret. It never bothered him until now, he never thought about it until now, of how many times you put your life in danger for the sake of his brothers when your life could easily be snuffed out in a blink.

This is how Lilith felt, isn’t it?

“Belphie,” you brought him out of his thoughts. “You guys scare me sometimes, but I know that you won’t actually kill me.”

There’s something that lingers in your eyes that he can’t place. A knowing. You bring your free hand to his cheek and caress it.

“I love you, you know this Belphie.”

Belphie nods with a little ‘mhm’. He feels so pathetic, he should be comforting you, not acting like a little kid. He takes his hand away from you and kneels down in front of you, wrapping his arms around your midsection and burying face in your stomach.

“I’d do anything for you, you know,” he said, a little muffled by the fabric. “You’re everything to us, to me. I’ll throw the whole Devildom upside down if you want me to.”

You chuckle a little. “And not taking a break to sleep?”

“I’d give up sleeping forever if you wanted me to. Id do it if that would make you happy.”

“Woah, don’t need to go that far. I don’t want to torment you!”

“Stop making fun of me, I’m seriously.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. You’re just so cute.”

Belphie blushed and huffed as you continued to lightly chuckle at his words.

“I’m serious. I would do anything you wanted me to. Id cut off my own hands before touching you in a way that hurts you, MC. Just ask me to and Id do it.”

You sigh, running your fingers through his hair, “I know Belphie, and it won’t come to that. I trust you. Do you trust me?”

“Trust you for what?”

“Trust me to believe in you? In your ability to keep me safe?”

He was silent for a moment, then he nodded. “I trust you.”

“Then there’s no need for promises. Let’s just trust each other, okay? Promises can be forgotten.”

“Not for me, I’ll always remember to cut my hands off if you wanted.”

“Belphie.”

“Kidding.”

“I have a feeling you’re not.”

Belphie smiled into your shirt and giggled a little, letting you pet his hair.

Whatever that was in your dream, whether it was him or not, he’d be damned again to the deepest, darkest pits of the Devildom before ever hurting you or making you cry.

#obey me asmodeus #x reader #obey me mc #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me leviathan #fluff #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me x mc #obey me x you #gender neutral reader #obey me nightbringer

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