Wanted to inform y'all that I think I'll be partially moving blogs! I'll still write and post my sfw stuff here in case anyone wants to stick around without nsfw stuff on their dash, but all of my work from now on is gonna make its first debut over on @strawberry-cow-smut!
Although the Snuggles blog is open to everyone, the Smut blog is only open to those over the age of 18. If you attempt to follow the smut blog and are under 18 or don't have your age clearly listed in your pinned post or your blog header, you'll be blocked without hesitation and unable to read ANY of my writing no matter what blogs of mine you follow.
Exploring: Calm snuggles, drifting off to sleep, descriptions of what love might be
Kaveh sleeps on his left side. That's also his side of the bed, though on the nights he feels like being the big spoon he'll roll over and pull you close, caging you in his arms and pressing his warm chest against your back before nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and letting a quiet hum of satisfaction leave him.
He'll take a deep breath; inhaling your calming scent before he drifts off to yet another dream about the next glamorous structure he'll be eager to design in the morning.
Most nights, he'll want to be the little spoon. He relishes in your gentle caresses along his back, the way your fingertips glide along his spine. He tenses at first, not expecting the frigid digits pressing at his neck, but relaxes as soon as he recognizes the touch is coming from you.
The way your palm slides across his hip and over the soft skin, gently disturbing the peach fuzz of his stomach as it curves under the opposite hip and he's pulled back slightly as your own warm body presses flush against his own.
He finds himself thinking, "Maybe this is what love is." He's always liked to think of himself as a hopeless romantic, and he truly is in every sense of the word.
"It's being able to relax at your most vulnerable. It's letting someone love the parts of you that you're still afraid to even see. It's a quiet night inside with a raging storm surrounding the house and being able to enjoy the ticking of the clock on the wall without the existential dread that accompanies the passage of time."
He closes his eyes as a feather-light kiss presses against his nape. His arms stretch out one final time before he wiggles his body back into the safety created by your own. His right hand finds your left and brings it to his lips for a gentle kiss, whose innocent warmth lingers even after his lips depart.
Not a word is exchanged, but the message is there. It's one of those things that doesn't need to be said out loud. Not right now. "I love you" is whispered in delicate caresses and tight squeezes in the safety found between two bed sheets and a mattress.
Shades of blue and purple start to intermingle with black. Ideas begin to float away into obscurity. Breathing softens and beating hearts find harmony. The bustling noise of an earlier day, now gone.
A/N: Can yall guess the feelings that im going through rn
Of course they were going to move on with their lives. What became frequent and everyday text messages, slowly turned to once a week, and then once every two weeks, and then once every month, and then you were given a meme, and a reaction, and you should have seen it coming. You should have prepared yourself for the breakup of a friendship.
You were a fool to believe that you would still be adored after months of separation. Even Lucifer had warned you about it when you asked for your D.D.D. to accept calls and messages from the Human Realm. He had only scowled and told you that it would be a waste, that human relations hardly ever last long distance and you fought with him, tears burning in your eyes, and shame on the tips of your ears, telling him that it wasn’t going to be like that, arguing with a man older than you could ever comprehend about something childish in his eyes. He had only relented when you threatened to ask Lord Diavolo yourself for a connection plan to the Human Realm. You cannot fathom how smug he’ll be when you tell him to cancel the phone line to the Human Realm.
Tears well up in your eyes and it’s becoming difficult to swallow whatever is lodged in your throat. The crown of your head hits the back of your headboard and you dig your nails into your palms, forcing for the tears to stop.
No, you are not going to cry over them. Friendships come and go. You always told yourself you were the least liked, the one who they felt like they had to invite, the one who didn’t really fit in, the one who thought of everyone as a close friend but no one else thought the same. You were only there to fill the gaps, nothing more. You had to prepare yourself because you knew the truth, because the others were too kind to ever tell you otherwise.
And yet, it did nothing to soften the pain of rejection and abandonment.
In the loneliness of your mind, you told yourself that when you went back to the House of Lamentation, you’d be quieter, you’d be less of a nuisance- you’d be likable.
Your friends were sitting around you, laughing and talking, and every conversation that they had were about moments when you weren’t there. They had jokes that were unknown to outsiders, and you sat there, as an outsider, as someone marring their meet-up, as an onlooker and nothing else. They dropped you off, and later in their stories, you saw that they went out without you.
It wasn’t that you wanted them to have fun without you- you much prefer if they showed the world how happy they were rather than hide their happiness to spare your feelings anyways- but it was them ignoring you, looking the other way. You’d speak up and your words would be drowned by others, and your sentence would be snuffed before it had even begun to light.
You let the sting last throughout the night and in the morning when you went to the store, you saw them at the self-checkout, and they were smiling. Their contact lit your screen and you thought about calling them, about giving them a cheeky, “look up” and waving at them- a final outreach of friendship- but you stopped yourself. They hadn’t invited you, what would make you think that they would want to say hello to you. No, you saved yourself from that humiliation, from your own desperation and walked further into the store. You walked away, buying time to make sure that they left the store so you could save each other from the awkward hellos.
Everyone that you passed in the market seemed content in their life, as you walked alone, clutching your items awkwardly in your hands. You saw the back of their clothes as they walked out the store and you replaced them where they once stood in line.
Love echoes in the walls, and you miss the way that you were once loved.
There is no notification from your phone- no goodbyes, no concerns. You’re gone from their lives, nothing more than a memory, something for them to smile about when they remember something that you once said. To you, they are still everything, you weren’t ready to say goodbye, and all the love you have for them leaks from your heart and spills itself on the collar of your shirt and stains your hands.
“Hey-” he walks into your room,eyes closed and a sort of upturned nose type of attitude, with his phone and charger, held tight in his hand- “you promised that when you got back we’d-” he looks up at you, and stops, falling silent. “Shit,” he curses under his breath, “you okay?”
You roll your lips into your mouth, nipping at the bottom, and your vision is getting blurry, the light from your lamp streaking in the corner of your vision. You hum, nodding your head, and it sounds painful- high-pitched and forced, and when he says your name, closing the door behind him, you cry.
The comforter wrinkles under you, and any of the high and mighty acts of him not loving you, crumbles as you do.
“Hey, hey,” Mammon mutters, “you okay? Who- What happened?” His arms wrap around you, and you’re pressed to his chest, the warmth burning against your cheeks.
“The trip was a total bust,” you spat out in tears. Your hands twist into the fabric of his shirt, and you try to calm down. You told yourself that you would be likable- that you would be quieter than all of this needless wailing.
“What happened?” He asks, running his hand under your shift, manicured nails running up and down your spine. Your chest shudders with every breath that you take, and you try to bury yourself deeper into him. “You can tell me-” at another pitiful attempt of choking back a sob, he quickly adds- “or not. There’s no pressure. Just uh- know that I’m here for ya, all right?” His hand stops in the middle of your back, and he traces loops and circles down your back.
“It’s like we weren’t even friends,” you murmur. “They were laughing and going out, and having fun without me and- fuck!” Your legs twist and rub themselves over each other, begging for something to swallow you whole, to have you disappear from sight. “It sounds so selfish when I say it outloud. I- I just wanted them to have fun with me.” You wish you cried in the shower where he wouldn’t have been able to see you.
“That doesn’t sound so bad. Everybody’s selfish around here, ya know.” His other hand has sneaked to hold onto your hand, running his thumb over your knuckles. “We must’ve rubbed off on ya or somethin’.”
“At least people like being around you. I mean- fuck,” you whimper, twisting yourself further into him. “Is it me? Like it has to be me, right?” You croak out, eyes wide with horror, and nails clawing into your skin as a repayment, because of course it is you, and of course you have to pay for it- for being so annoying, so demanding, so unlovable.
“No, no,” he coos, twisting himself to hold you, his arms snaking around you, legs intertwined with yours, trapping you beside him, subjecting himself to his own torment. “It isn’t you,” he tells you.
“But it’s me that they’re leaving,” you say in a hushed voice. “It’s not the other way around. I’m the one that’s being left behind. Even at work, I don’t have friends- like sure they tolerate me, but they don’t like me.” Your voice starts to give, it’s uneven and wavers with each syllable. “Even with my friends from the Human Realm, they’re laughing and talking and I-” your heart breaks, and you feel the sting of rejection burn and sear itself across your body. “I felt alone. I felt-” you stop yourself. You felt like you were a child again, picked last for a group project, sitting alone at lunch, begging that the teacher would assign groups, stomach twisting and turning at the thought of gym, desperate to keep your friends by sacrificing every bit of yourself. Your tears stop for a moment, and your lungs are filled with air, expanding and too much to bear. “I felt pathetic.”
“Don’t say that,” he says softly.
“But I am. I really thought they were going to miss me the way that I missed them. But they were done with me. I was the one begging for the meet up. I was the one initiating conversations.” You let out a sigh, and rise, pulling away from him. “I- I thought I was at least someone’s favorite- that maybe they still considered me a friend.” A sob breaks through your ramble. “I held out onto some stupid hope that someone could tolerate me.”
“I tolerate you,” he adds quickly.
You let out a breath, pushing it out of your body. “You didn’t before,” you counter and he winces. “You were forced to like me and fuck, Mammon.” You intake a large breath and you’re unable to keep it in your body. “I’m sorry for how annoying I was.” You dip your head down, and feel your tears drip down.
“You weren’t,” his voice is low, and his hands cup at your cheeks, and lift you up. “I was just annoyed at Lucifer- it was never for you; it just had to be or Lucifer would’ve had my ass swinging from the ceiling.” You snort, rubbing at the tip of your nose and sniveling. Your forehead meets his shoulder, and his warmth isn’t as suffocating as it was moments before. “There ya go, got you smilin’. That must count for somethin’.
“Counts for a lot,” you mutter, turning your head to rest your cheek over his shoulder, your nose ghosting over the side of his neck. There’s a moment of silence, of you reaching your arms around him and bunching up the back of his shirt and stretching in downwards. The tag of his shirt peeks out. “I can’t believe I have to tell Lucifer that he was right,” you moan, pressing yourself closer to him.
“Yeah,” Mammon breathes out, his fingertips dancing along the line where your shirt begins along the nape of your neck, “he’s never gonna let you live that down.” His head knocks softly against yours, and you let out a humorless chuckle.
“Great,” you say with sarcasm twisted into your words. You pull away from him, and he sits tall, watching as you sit on his lap, hands sliding from the back of his shirt, across his chest, and resting over his shoulders. “What if I don’t tell him? Just you know-” you loll your head to the sides a few times- “let him waste money.”
“He’d kill ya,” Mammon says without a smile. He leans forward, the tip of his nose pressed against yours in a faux bunny kiss. “And who would I have backin’ up my ideas?”
Your eyes close and a smile stretches softly. “You could always bribe Beel, and after that Belphie would follow. Asmo would join for the heck of it, and if you twist Levi’s arm enough, he’d join too.” You pause. “Satan would just need the excuse to piss off Lucifer.”
“Ha!” He pulls away and you lean back into him, the labor of crying and self-pitying finally catching up to you. “You think about leavin’ my side often or what?”
“Or what,” you say in a whisper that ghosts over his neck. “I like thinking.”
You feel the smile on his lips as he presses a chaste kiss against yours, letting his lips flutter against your tear-stained skin. “Funny-” his lips kiss your skin once more. “Anyways,” his chest pushes out as he exhales, and you’re grateful he’s warm, or else you would have buried yourself under blankets while you cried yourself to sleep. You hum in response, and let a hand of yours fall to the mattress, and toy with the end of his shirt, your knuckles brushing alongside his bare skin every now and then. “You feelin’ better?” He asks in a soft voice. “I helped?” You smile at how eager he is to hear how he helped, and you wished he asked earlier so you could praise him and kiss him, and hold him in your arms as if he were a lifeline in the middle of the vast sea.
You nod. “You helped,” you agree, placing a gentle kiss where the soft of his skin gives away his emotions. “You helped plenty, Mammon. I’m not crying myself to sleep, so I’m counting that as a win.”
The bed sinks and you feel the dip even as you lay on him. Something soft covers you, and you don’t have the strength to open your eyes and see what it is. “Good, good,” he says quietly, turning his head to place a kiss against the side of yours. “‘S what I’m here for.”
“am i your favorite?” there’s a slight wriggle in his brows, and you think only mammon would have the audacity to plaster a shit-eating grin on his face like that when his voice is so clearly hopeful—and maybe if you listen closely, you might just hear the slight desperation under his tone too. “just admit it, i’m your favorite right?” he hums.
“i would love to, but i’m not a liar like you,” you snort, still staring at your screen, and you don’t even spare him a glance. he wonders why that bothers him as much as it does. and you’re nothing but trouble—have been since you got here, twisting his thoughts to nothing but that vicious little smile of yours, to those doe eyes that make his skin burn and his heart race and his palms sweat just a bit.
“well clearly ya are liar,” he pouts, “anyone would kill to be with me.” the chuckle you let out shouldn’t get to him as much as it does—but then again, you shouldn’t get to him as much as you do either.
“maybe if you pay them,” you grin, “and knowing you, you wouldn’t.” finally, you look at him, poking his chest lightly. you pretend not to notice the way his face flushes, the way his eyes dart to the floor as he huffs, the way his pout seems to deepen just a little more. it’s cute, it almost makes you reach over and poke his jutted lips too, but giving in means feeding his ego, and you like keeping mammon on his toes. and he’s nothing but trouble too—has been since you got here, the gleam in his eye and the dimples of his cheeks are just a little too hard to ignore.
he’s entirely too much, but somehow, you think maybe that’s not so bad. somehow it makes him just that much more enticing.
“i’m hot news. if ya ask nice, i might just give you a chance,” he smirks, but it’s tight, a little unsure. and it’s almost too easy, almost a little too simple to see through the cracks of his demeanor—the real mammon that waits for praise like it’s honey that drips from your lips, like he’s starved of the sweet taste that he knows he’ll find in you. the mammon whose skin flushes with a warmth that brings the sun to her knees and makes your eyes soften in a way that turns his lips wobbly.
you take a step forward, that look in your eyes that makes him want to close the blinds and draw the curtains—anything so the world doesn’t get a glimpse of what should be his. this should be for him, you should be for him, even if he doesn’t quite think he can admit it out loud just yet.
“well, i guess it must be my lucky day,” you murmur, and then you’re close, really close—so close that he can smell the mint in your breath and the lingering perfume in your clothes, and then he can’t help but lean in a bit closer. it’s second nature, it comes a little too easily, it makes him forget who he is for a moment when he’s too busy trying to be yours. “but i think i’ll pass, though.”
“ya’d be missin’ out ya know,” he mutters, “this is a one in a million chance right here.”
you try not to smile at the frown in his voice, the slump in his shoulders, the slight dullness in his eyes. but then you reach over, cupping his face and making his breath hitch and eyes widen, making his skin flush a dark shade of pink that only deepens when your thumb rubs gentle circles into the flesh of his cheek.
“if you ask nicely, i might give you a chance though,” you tease gently, smiling when he leans into your touch just a little. and slowly, he brings his own hand up—though a bit hesitantly—laying over yours to keep it in place, like he’s making sure you don’t change your mind and pull away.
“so ya admit ya do want me, huh?” he attempts to throw you a cocky grin, but really, it’s just a shaky smile, one that begs you to tell him what he wants to hear. “knew ya were a liar. ‘m your favorite aren’t i?”
“well, i wouldn’t say that,” you grin wider, and just as his face falls, you press a sweet kiss to his lips, thumb still gently rubbing over his cheek, your other hand burying into his hair and threading through the soft strands. and just like that, he lets himself melt, lets himself lose an already losing battle, lets his hands grab at your waist just a tad bit desperately to keep you close. you pull away, but not before landing a soft peck on the tip of his nose, making his skin flush even darker. “can’t be my favorite if there’s just you,” you whisper, and he digs his face into your neck.
“so in love with me ya can’t even look at anyone else? i’ve got ya wrapped around my finger,” he mumbles, but he’s pulling you closer—if that’s even possible—and he leans more weight into you when your hand drags up and down his back soothingly.
“you’re hopeless,” you chuckle, and with a soft kiss to the side of his head, you smile to yourself when you feel his lips return the favor as they plant a gentle one to your neck.
guys im down so bad for this complete imbecile SOBS
Hi, I was wondering if you could do the obey me characters preferred type. If you can I would like it to be about looks and personality.
Love your work❤️❤️
Their "Type"
Sure! I only did the brothers for now but if yall wanna see this with the dateables too then don't be shy in asking for it!
I based this both on my perception and on the canon things we know about them but I want to make sure you all know that your faves love you whether you fit this "type" of theirs or not ♡
the "looks" sections are more so about what clothing style they like on others because I personally don't understand being attracted to someone based on appearance alone and I'm convinced they all love you no matter what your body looks like
Warnings: mentions of kink (brief)
Lucifer
Lucifer likes the Rebellious type, tho he won't admit it if you ask him
He likes someone who can and will challenge him, someone who isn't afraid to assert their own place in the relationship and keeps him guessing
As someone so hardworking, Lucifer doesn't like if someone slacks off and rather likes someone who takes responsibility and makes an effort to do things well and better themself
On the other hand, Lucifer also needs someone who will notice when he's overworking himself and tries to take care of him, he will be incredibly grumpy but it also makes him melt inside
For looks, it's merely important to him that they take care of how they look to a reasonable extent and chaotic fashions like Harajuku Decora for example would be a bit much for him at first but he can get used to it
Mammon
Mammon likes the Kind type
The type that will cut him down from the ceiling and look out for him and tend to his wounds when he gets hurt
He needs someone who will tell him again and again that they really love him and that he's not useless, someone who won't judge him for struggling with his sin and instead tries to work with him instead of against him
On the other hand, Mammon also likes someone assertive. Someone who won't let themself get robbed or conned by him or anyone else and sets clear boundaries with him
Lastly, it's important for Mammon that they know how to have fun and will join him in wreaking chaos now and again, be it going to the casino, the Fall or pranking someone
In terms of looks, Mammon likes people who wear lots of ✨bling✨ because it catches his eye and makes him drool but if they don't already and let him, Mammon will just put ✨bling✨ on anyone he likes himself
Leviathan
Levi likes the Best Friend type and the Assertive type
He likes someone who will share his interests with him or at least supports him in his interests and takes part in them with him
It's important for Levi that the other person is someone he can feel comfortable with and he needs someone who won't get put off by his reoccurring self-doubts and fragile self-image, who will make an effort to show him that they don't think he's gross and unlovable
Still, it's obvious that on another level, Leviathan craves someone who can take the lead and be assertive and even mean to him, though the last part is more so a kink of his than anything else
For looks, he likes someone who wears alternative fashion, basically any kind, because it's not "normal" and it's inspires him, not to mention that it makes Levi feel more at ease knowing that they aren't a "normie"
Satan
Satan likes the Clever and Calm type
As someone who constantly struggles with his Wrath and understanding other emotions, he needs someone who can keep calm and work through his emotions with him if necessary
He likes someone who can spend time with him quietly, maybe while reading and someone who can keep up with his intellect, who can have deep conversations with him
That doesn't mean they need to be incredibly knowledgable about tons of topics, instead he values logic and philosophical ways of thinking, someone who will inspire him with their own view of things
Of course, a bit of mischief is also needed in his book. It's something that brings him joy (however vindictive it may be) and he can't stand if someone were to hold him back from it all the time
In terms of appearance, Satan does like warm and cozy styles like dark academia or cottagecore inspired fashions but he doesn't pay too much attention to it, generally
Asmodeus
Asmo likes the Fun and Genuine type
In the first place, he is very hedonistic and he likes people he can have fun with, someone he can take with him to parties and laugh with a lot
It's not necessary but Asmodeus does tend to like extroverted people more because of this. His way of life can get very exhausting for someone introverted after all, since he thrives when he's spending time around lots of people
More important however, is that Asmo needs someone who is very genuine. With his fear of others only liking him because of his looks and the popular, fun personality he usually puts on, he needs someone who can ground him, look him in the eye and tell him they love him for who he is, not for how gorgeous he looks and makes him believe that too
He needs someone he can trust to catch him when he's not feeling all that great and confident right now and won't turn their back to him when he opens himself up
As long as they support him both during ups and downs, everything's alright
In terms of looks, though he sees beauty in almost anything, Asmo obviously likes people with honest to god style. It can be alternative fashion too but generally, he just likes people who don't look "boring". Though, if he likes someone who looks too casual for him, he will just bug them to let him give them a makeover anyway
Beelzebub
Beel likes the Kind and Caring type
If someone readily shares food with him and doesn't get annoyed at him for being burdened by his sin so often, he's already feeling positive towards them
More important for him is that they get along with his brothers though, since his family is the most important to him and if he were to find a partner, they would be part of his family too, after all
Otherwise, he does like someone he can share his passions with, both food and sports and who will support him wholeheartedly. Bring him xxxl lunchboxes to his training and cheer him on during his games and he's head over heels
He also needs someone who will just be there for him when he gets nightmares, someone who will listen to his worries and provide (usually quiet) comfort
Beel doesn't care about what clothes or accessories you wear, just like he doesn't care about his own. As long as it doesn't restrict him, it's good and similarly as long as you're comfortable with what you're wearing, Beel doesn't think much of it
Belphegor
Belphie likes the Caretaker and Mischievous type
Because on one hand, Belphegor is used to being spoiled and adored as the youngest brother, he can get very demanding and whiny when he wants something and would fit perfectly with someone who enjoys taking care of him
Yet on the other, Belphie is similar to Satan as in that he has his fun through pranks and mischief and someone who can match him in this would make him very happy
He also likes someone who's calm, who may even nap him with a lot, something very intimate to him and someone who can enjoy watching the stars with him in quiet
For appearance, Belphie really likes people with alt styles like punk or goth, something a bit darker
Chief... I have been in an obey me server that doxxed people. Ain't no way I wanna give my full name... could I just give the first initials of the first and last name and the birthday?
I appreciate you wanting to get a read on people. I am a fan. But... bro... would the initials work?
Yeah, just your initials are totally fine!! So sorry to hear about that server. Sounds like a total drag. I hope everyone's okay!!
Just make sure your birthday's in clear view when you send the pic into the application. We hope to see you there soon!
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