#asmo x reader

[melodiesz]

In which you stumble upon their everyday searches ⋆˙⟡ Incl. lucifer, mammon, levi, satan, asmo, beel, belphie

LUCIFER

MAMMON

LEVIATHAN

SATAN

ASMODEUS

BEELZEBUB

BELPHEGOR

a/n: hey guys sorry it took me literal MONTHS to finally do another one of these... almost became a one hit wonder there. Thanks for reading! Hope everyone has a great Valentines C:

pt 1: <3

[veinsandviolets]

Hi I have a head cannon scenario about mc returning to the hol because they were sent on a mission by the sorcerer society and when they get back the brothers sees them covered blood and mc reassures them by saying "Oh don't worry this isn't my blood"

🩸 It’s In My Blood! 🩸

The demon brothers’ reaction to the MC coming back covered in blood!!

Includes: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, and Belphegor

Side Chars Ver.

CW: Mentions of blood, violence, implied murder, Levi almost throws up (he also passes out), they’re all pathetic for u, Satan is kinda cringe methinks.

🩸 Lucifer

Lucifer’s used to you being busy: you’re competent, organized, and strong enough to work with the Sorcerer’s Society. He doesn’t like it, but he respects it. Until tonight.

He hears the door first: a slow creak of hinges that shouldn’t make him tense, but they do. He’s halfway through paperwork when your voice floats through the hall. “I’m home.” Calm. Too calm.

When he turns, the first thing he sees is the blood.

Your clothes are drenched, streaked down your sleeves, dripping off your fingertips onto the polished floor. You’re standing there like it’s the most normal thing in the world: messy hair, tired eyes, faint smile.

“MC-“ His tone breaks before he can stop it. He crosses the distance in seconds, hands hovering but not touching. “Are you hurt?”

You glance down, blink, and laugh softly. “Oh, don’t worry. This isn’t my blood.”

The words don’t help. They make it worse.

His expression hardens immediately, that sharp, barely-contained fury that he uses when his brothers do something reckless. But now it’s turned on you. “That’s not reassuring.”

You shrug, half teasing, half exhausted. “It’s the truth.”

You try to brush past him, but he catches your wrist: not roughly, just firmly enough that you stop. There’s blood smeared across his glove now.

“Tell me what happened.”

His voice is calm, but it’s the calm of a man holding back a storm.

You try to downplay it: “A rogue familiar. The mission got messy.”

He doesn’t buy it. He looks at you like he can see through every word, every forced smile. “You nearly died.”

“But I didn’t.” You give him that tired grin again, trying to lighten it. “Mission accomplished.”

There’s a long silence. The kind that stretches thin and heavy. Then, quietly:

“You forget sometimes,” he says, “that you’re still human.”

He takes a deep breath, removes his bloodstained gloves, and cups your face carefully, thumb brushing the edge of a cut you didn’t realize you had. “You can’t keep walking into danger like this. Not alone.”

“You worry too much,” you whisper.

“And you don’t worry enough.” His gaze softens then, the edge breaking into quiet affection. “You’re shaking.”

You hadn’t noticed until he said it. He pulls you closer before you can argue, letting you bury your face against his shoulder. He smells like clean parchment and dark magic. His heartbeat is steady, grounding.

“Next time,” he murmurs against your hair, “I’m coming with you. If the Sorcerer’s Society has a problem with that, they can answer to me.”

You laugh, weakly. “You’d terrify them.”

“Good,” he says. “Maybe then they’ll stop sending you to clean up their messes.”

He doesn’t let go for a long time. Not until he’s sure the shaking has stopped, and the blood’s been washed away, and the faint scent of iron is gone from your skin. Only then does he finally exhale.

Later, when he thinks you’re asleep, he sits beside your bed: quiet, expression unreadable. “Not your blood,” he murmurs, almost to himself.

🩸 Mammon

Mammon’s the first one who hears you come home not because he’s paying attention, but because he was literally leaning on the front door waiting for you like a golden retriever with attachment issues.

The second the door swings open and he sees the blood, he stops breathing. For a full two seconds. His brain just blue-screens.

“MC!! MC!! MC WHAT HAPPENED—?!?”

His voice goes up at least three octaves. He sounds like a dying kettle.

You try to speak, but you can’t even get one word out before he SCREAMS:

“STAY STILL, I’M GETTIN’ THE KIT! DON’T MOVE- DON’T YOU DARE MOVE-“

And then he’s gone. Full sprint. Full panic.

You hear multiple crashes, a yell, a curse, two thuds, the sound of something breaking, and then..

BAM

He’s back, skidding into you with… a first-aid kit, a roll of duct tape, and a plushie he grabbed for emotional support.

“Okay okay okay… lemme- lemme see where ya bleedin’-“

His hands hover everywhere but never touch, because he’s afraid one wrong move is gonna make your spleen fall out or something.

“Mammon.”

“WHAT?!”

“It’s not my blood.”

“I- WHAT?! HUH?!”

He freezes.

Literally freezes like someone hit him with Medusa’s gaze.

Slowly, very slowly, his expression changes from pure terror… to confusion… to angry relief.

“…Why would ya walk in here covered in someone else’s blood?!”

“It was a mission.”

“MISSION MY ASS!”

He starts wiping your face with trembling hands, muttering under his breath:

“Stupid humans… stupid sorcerers… stupid society… sendin’ ya out alone like yer some kinda immortal or somethin’…”

He’s trying to hide that his hands are still shaking.

You try to tease him. “Aww, were you worried?”

“Worried?! I thought ya DIED, MC. Like dead dead. Like Belphie’s-favorite-bedtime-story dead!”

Once he finishes checking you over for injuries (twice), he pulls you into a tight hug. No hesitation.

His head buries into your shoulder.

“’M never lettin’ ya leave like that again,” he mumbles. “Not without me.”

You pat his back. “I’m okay, Mammon.”

“Ya ain’t allowed to look like that again,” he grumbles. “I aged like fifty years in five minutes.”

It’s only when you lift your arms and he sees more dried blood crackling on your sleeves that he yelps again:

“NOPE! SHOWER NOW! GOIN’ WITH YA! NOT LIKE THAT BUT LIKE… NEAR YA! JUST IN CASE-“

And for the rest of the night, he follows you everywhere. Not subtly. Not coolly.

Hovering. Protecting. Muttering threats at the Sorcerer’s Society under his breath.

When you finally fall asleep, he sits on the floor by your bed, back against the frame, arms crossed.

“I ain’t sleepin’ tonight,” he whispers, watching your breathing steady. “Not till I’m sure ya ain’t disappear on me again.”

And he doesn’t. He stays awake the whole night. Just in case.

🩸 Leviathan

Levi doesn’t hear you come in, he senses it. Like a startled cat.

He peeks out of his door because you were supposed to be gone on a mission and he just, y’know… wanted to check you weren’t dead. Totally normal. Totally fine. Definitely not worrying himself to death.

Then he sees you. And all the blood. Levi makes a noise no human language can describe.

Something between a squeak, a scream, and a Windows error sound.

“MC—M-MC—WH—WHAT—NO—N-NO WAY—”

He’s already shaking. Like whole-body trembling. He steps forward, and then immediately steps back. And then steps forward again.

And then he bends over at the waist like he’s about to throw up.

* You calmly say, “Levi. It’s not my blood.”

He stops. Blinks. His eye twitches. And then he just… drops like a ragdoll NPC whose physics glitched.

You rush forward and kneel down, shaking him gently until he gasps awake and IMMEDIATELY starts dry heaving.

“I—I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD—MC—THAT MUCH BLOOD IS NEVER GOOD—NEVER—NOT EVEN IN SHONEN—EVEN IN SHONEN THEY DIE—AND—AND—YOU—AND—AND—”

You try to reassure him again, but he’s spiraling too fast to hear you.

“DID YOU FIGHT A DEMON KING?! A CURSED BEAST?! A WHOLE RAID PARTY?! MC, YOU ARE LEVEL ONE COMPARED TO THEM—YOU CAN’T JUST—YOU CAN’T JUST WALK IN HERE LIKE A BLOOD-COVERED DLC—”

He pauses. Realizes he’s yelling. Immediately turns red.

“S-Sorry… I just… I thought… I can’t—”

He hides his face in his hands.

“I don’t do well with… b-blood. Or… you being hurt. Or… you being gone at all.”

You sit beside him, leaning gently against his shoulder and he stiffens like you just upgraded him to premium affection content.

“Levi, I’m okay. Really.”

“But—but it was—there was so much—”

“Not mine.”

“I still almost threw up.”

You laugh, and it actually calms him a little. He peeks at you through his fingers.

“MC… next time… can you… I dunno… send a message? Or—or a selfie? Or maybe… maybe one of those ‘I survived’ stickers? I DON’T KNOW, JUST… SOMETHING??”

You pat his head. He turns bright red and looks like he might pass out again.

“Also-” he mumbles, voice barely above a whisper—

“If you ever die, I’m joining you. Just so you know.”

You blink. “Levi… that’s not how-“

“TOO LATE, I SAID IT.”

He buries his face in your shoulder this time, trembling but clinging tight.

And later, when you’re showered and resting, Levi sits on the floor by your bed, wrapped in a blanket like a traumatized cinnamon roll, whispering to himself:

“They’re okay… they’re okay… thank the anime gods, they’re okay…”

🩸 Satan

Satan hears the front door open and doesn’t think much of it because he’s in the library, sorting through books and sipping tea.

But then he hears Mammon scream. Then Levi gag. That gets his attention.

He steps into the hall, ready to lecture them both, and then he sees you. Blood-soaked. Dripping. Pale and exhausted.

Everything inside him stops. Then it erupts.

Satan’s rage doesn’t explode outward, not at first. It condenses. Sharpens. The air around him changes.

His voice is low, dangerous, the kind that makes even demons freeze.

“Who did this.”

Your mouth opens.

“Oh, don’t worry. This isn’t my-“

He doesn’t let you finish. His footsteps echo like thunder as he closes the distance in seconds: hands clenched, jaw tight, pupils blown wide with fury.

“Don’t lie to me.”

It’s not a command. It’s a threat wrapped in grief.

“Satan, really, this isn’t-“

You touch his arm, and he flinches at the blood not because he’s squeamish, but because he thinks it’s yours.

Linked books on the shelves around you begin to tremble. Pages flutter. A pressure fills the air.

“Tell me their name.”

You finally manage to get the words out.

“It’s not my blood.”

The rage pauses mid-eruption like someone hit a giant, explosive “pause” button on the wrath in his chest.

“…It’s not… your blood?”

His eyes narrow, analyzing every inch of you.

“Is any of it yours? Any at all?”

“No.”

“Not even a cut?”

“Nope.”

And just like that, the explosive rage melts into something even more dangerous: cold, calculated fury.

“Then whose blood is it?”

“A demon we were sent after. It… got messy.”

“Messy.”

He repeats the word like it’s poison.

“And they sent you alone?”

You explain that the Sorcerer’s Society assigned you a mission, that you couldn’t refuse, that you handled it fine. He's quiet for a moment. Too quiet.

And then he smiles. It’s not a nice smile. It’s the smile of a demon who has decided on murder.

“You’re not going back there without one of us.”

His voice is soft. Soft in the way that means he’s seconds from violence.

“They’ll learn not to use you as a disposable pawn.”

He gently wipes a streak of blood off your cheek with his thumb. His touch is tender. His gaze is lethal.

“I should have been there,” he mutters, voice cracking just enough that you feel it.

“If I’d known… if I’d sensed even a fragment of danger, I-”

He stops himself. Clenches his fists until his knuckles go white.

“You matter. More than they understand.”

When he walks you to your room, he stays close: not hovering like Mammon, not trembling like Levi. He’s calm. Dangerously calm.

After you fall asleep, he doesn’t leave immediately. He stands there, watching your breathing settle, jaw tight.

And then he says quietly,

“If that blood had been yours… the Devildom would’ve burned.”

You don’t hear it but he means every word.

🩸 Asmodeus

Asmo is humming to himself down the hall, face mask on, nails drying, fully in his “self-care king” era when he hears the door open.

He turns around with a sparkle in his eyes:

“MC!! You’re back sooo-“

He screams. Like, hand-to-chest, full-body, opera-level scream.

“A-AHHHH!! MC!! MC, WHAT—WHAT EVEN—IS—IS THAT—IS—THAT—BLOOD?!?!”

He stumbles back into the wall like he’s about to faint. His face mask literally slides down his cheek from how hard he gasps.

“NO, NO, NO—MC, DARLING—WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU—DON’T TALK—DON’T MOVE—DON’T—DON’T BLEED ANY FURTHER—OH DIAVOLO YOU’RE GOING PALE—”

“Asmo…It’s not my blood.”

He freezes. Blinks once. Twice. Then slowly rolls his lip gloss back onto his mouth like he needs strength for what he’s about to say.

“Okay.”

Deep breath.

“Now that I know you’re not dying…”

He points a perfectly manicured finger at you with pure judgment.

“THAT SHADE OF RED DOES. NOT. SUIT. YOU.”

He launches forward in a flurry of offended shrieks.

“Oh my DIAVOLO, MC!! Your undertones! Your vibe! Your aesthetic! You look like someone dipped you in tomato paste!!”

You try not to laugh as he circles you, snapping his fingers dramatically.

“This is a CRIME, an absolute CRIME against beauty! Whoever did this to you needs to be arrested for TREASON!”

“Asmo. I’m fine.”

“NO YOU ARE NOT. YOU CANNOT BE FINE WHILE LOOKING LIKE A CORPSE COVERED IN THE WRONG PALETTE.”

He grabs your wrist and yanks you toward the nearest bathroom like a mom dragging her kid into Target.

“We’re going to get this off you RIGHT now. And then I’m giving you a deep cleanse, a gentle exfoliation…”

His voice drops. Dead serious.

“…and then I want every single detail about who made this mess.”

You pause. “Why?”

He smiles. Not his cutesy smile. Not his flirty smile. His demon smile. Sharp. Beautiful. Terrifying.

“Because if someone splattered their ugly blood all over my lovely MC… I want to rip them apart for ruining your skin’s natural radiance.”

You blink. “Asmo…”

He puts a finger to your lips.

“Shhh. Let me be upset for you.”

His voice softens, warm and trembling at the edges.

“I don’t like seeing you covered in red unless it’s lipstick. My lipstick.”

Once he’s gotten all the blood off and confirmed you have zero wounds, he finally slumps against the counter in relief.

“Ughhhh, MC… I was sooo scared…”

His lower lip trembles. He hides his face in your shoulder like a child.

“Promise me you’ll come back in pink next time. Or at least something flattering. Something soft. Something you.”

And when you laugh and hug him back, he squeezes you tighter, whispering:

“Not your blood… but you still scared me half to death. Don’t do that again.”

🩸 Beelzebub

Beel hears the commotion from the kitchen: Mammon shouting, Levi screaming, Satan’s magic crackling.

He drops the snack he was about to eat and jogs toward the noise, confused but alert.

He turns the corner and sees you standing in the doorway, drenched in blood. His breath catches. But instead of panicking, yelling, or fainting… He just stops. Completely still. His expression softens into something heartbreakingly sad.

“MC…?”

His voice is so gentle it hurts.

He walks toward you slowly, like he’s afraid you’ll break if he moves too fast.

“Are you hurt?”

No fear in his tone. Just steady, quiet concern.

“No. It’s not my blood.”

You smile a little. He stares at you. Not at the blood, at you. Searching your face, scanning for injuries, checking your breathing, making sure you’re standing upright.

Once he confirms you’re not in pain, his shoulders relax a little. And then comes the silent anger.

Beel doesn’t explode. He doesn’t growl. He doesn’t show fangs. His eyes just harden. A slow, simmering fury that comes from deep in his chest, the kind that makes even demons step back.

“They sent you alone?”

His tone is dangerously calm.

“Sort of. They didn’t think it was that dangerous…”

His jaw clenches. That’s the only sign he’s angry. But the air around him changes.

“The Sorcerer’s Society was wrong.”

He looks at your clothes again and his brows pull together.

“You could’ve gotten hurt. They should’ve known.”

His voice is soft, but firm.

“They should’ve sent help.”

You try to reassure him, but he quietly shakes his head.

“MC… you’re strong. I know that. We all know that.”

He looks down, eyes full of worry.

“But you’re not invincible. And that scares me.”

He steps closer, gently wiping a smear of blood from your cheek with the back of his hand. He doesn’t flinch or recoil. Beel’s never been afraid of blood.

But seeing it on you makes his stomach twist in a way hunger never has.

“Next time,” he murmurs, “I’m coming with you.”

A vow in his warm, earnest voice. When he hugs you, it’s careful. Like he’s holding something precious.

You feel him exhale against your hair a long, slow breath of relief that you came home.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he whispers.

And then, almost shyly:

“Are you hungry? I made dinner before you came back.”

He insists you eat something. Watches to make sure you do. And later, as you’re settling down for the night, he sits quietly by your door, leaning against the frame.

Because Beel doesn’t scream or rage. He protects because he failed before. And tonight, he’s not letting anything else get close enough to hurt you.

🩸 Belphegor

Belphie wakes up before you step through the door. He always does when something’s wrong. It’s that instinct of his, the same one that kicks in when Beel’s starving or when danger prowls the halls of the House of Lamentation.

He sits up on the attic bed, eyes groggy, hair a mess, but his stomach is tight. Something feels… off. Like a nightmare he hasn’t had yet.

Then he hears Mammon shriek. Levi gag. Satan’s magic flaring like wildfire. And Beel’s steady anger.

Belphie’s heart drops. He recognizes this atmosphere. He’s felt it before.

When he killed you.

He’s already halfway down the stairs when he sees you. Covered in blood. Standing in the doorway. Breathing.

But that doesn’t matter, the sight hits him like a memory to the skull.

That day in the attic. Your body. The blood. The smell. The silence.

He freezes mid-step, pupils shrinking. His breath hitches, barely audible.

“MC…?”

His voice cracks on the first syllable. You turn toward him and smile weakly.

“Belphie. I’m okay. It’s not my blood.”

It doesn’t help. It doesn’t reach him. Not immediately.

He walks toward you slowly, too slowly. Like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he blinks.

“Don’t lie.”

His tone is quiet. Dangerous. Too close to the voice he used the day he killed you. You swallow.

“I’m not lying. I swear. This isn’t mine.”

He stops right in front of you, touching your cheek with the very tips of his fingers like he’s scared to touch too much and confirm something horrible.

Then he suddenly pulls you into him. Arms tight. Desperate. Clinging.

His voice muffles against your shoulder.

“You smell like blood.”

He hates it. He hates how familiar it feels. How familiar you feel like this.

“I know,” you whisper. “I’m okay, Belphie.”

He shakes his head. Slowly. Like he’s in a trance.

“I thought…”

His voice breaks. He grips your shirt tighter.

“I thought I would have to watch you die again.”

That’s when it hits him: it’s not your blood. Not your wound. Not your final breath.

He pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes trembling.

“Whose is it?”

“A demon the Sorcerer’s Society sent me after,” you explain. “It got messy.”

That’s all he needs to hear.

“I hate them.”

He says it plainly. Eyes lidded, voice cold.

“They don’t care if you get hurt. They don’t care what they put you through.”

You open your mouth to rebut, but he presses a hand over your lips.

“No.”

His tone softens but the intensity in it doesn’t.

“I’m not letting them use you like that. Ever again.”

He guides you upstairs, half dragging you, half hugging you, refusing to look away even once.

“You’re sleeping with me tonight.”

Not a suggestion. Not a request. Not even a demand. A necessity.

When he tucks you into bed, he curls around you protectively: arms around your waist, legs intertwined, chin resting on your shoulder.

His hand stays over your heart, feeling its steady rhythm like he needs proof.

“I’m not losing you,” he whispers. “Not again. Not ever.”

And as you drift off, he keeps his eyes open, watching your chest rise and fall. Making sure this time, you stay alive.

Later that night, when you’re dreaming peacefully, he whispers to himself:

“If they ever send you into danger like that again… I’ll kill them before they get the chance.”

And the worst part? He means every word.

🩸 Poly!Brothers

When you opened the door to the House of Lamentation, blood dripping down your clothes and pooling onto the floor, seven demons froze in place as if time itself stopped breathing. They’d all been waiting for you together, restless and anxious because your mission with the Sorcerer’s Society ran later than expected. Lucifer was halfway through lecturing Mammon about pacing holes into the floor. Levi was nervously scrolling on his D.D.D. Satan had been pretending to read the same sentence in his book for half an hour. Beel kept checking the window. Belphie dozed fitfully on the couch. Even Asmo couldn’t relax enough to paint his nails.

Then you stepped inside, and the room shattered.

Mammon screamed first, high and panicked, sprinting toward you like the world was ending. Levi choked on his own breath, gagging between shock and terror. Satan’s book slipped from his fingers, hitting the ground without him noticing. Asmo screamed so loud the windows rattled. Beel stared at you like he’d forgotten how to speak. Belphegor jolted awake so violently he nearly fell off the couch. And Lucifer… Lucifer went dead still, the color draining from his face in a way none of them had ever seen before.

“MC?!” Seven voices, overlapping, cracking, desperate.

You forced a tired smile. “Don’t worry. This isn’t my blood.”

But relief didn’t come. It only made everything worse.

Lucifer moved first, closing the distance in three strides, hands hovering but afraid to touch you. The rage in his eyes burned so sharply the air felt like it vibrated. “Not your blood?” he repeated quietly, as if tasting the phrase and finding it poisonous. “Then why… do you look like you barely survived a war?” His fingers brushed your cheek, trembling despite how controlled he tried to seem.

Mammon practically shoved him aside, grabbing your face with shaking hands. “Babe, babe what the hell?! Why didn’t ya call me?! Why didn’t ya call ANY of us?!” He wiped at the blood on your skin and made a strangled noise when it smeared instead of disappearing. “I thought you were… I thought—”

Levi pressed himself against the wall, pale as a ghost, eyes darting wildly between you and the puddles on the floor. “Oh no… oh no… oh no… this is like episode 97 of The Time I Reincarnated as a Demon when the protagonist comes back half-dead… MC I can’t—I can’t handle this in real life—” He looked one second from fainting again.

Asmo approached slowly, tiptoeing around the blood, face twisted in horror not at the gore, but at it being on you. “Darling… you look absolutely awful… this shade of red is doing you NO favors.” His voice wobbled. His hands trembled as he reached out, stroking your cheek gently. “Why would anyone do this to your pretty skin…?”

Satan said nothing at all. He simply stared at you with eyes that promised violence, fury radiating from him like heat from a furnace. The moment you met his gaze, he stepped forward, lifting your chin with a single finger. “Tell me who did this,” he said quietly, too quietly. “I won’t ask again.”

Beel was the gentlest. He knelt right in front of you and took your hands carefully, like you might crumble if he gripped too tight. His voice was soft, rough around the edges. “You smell like blood,” he whispered, and it broke him more than anything. “MC… you shouldn’t ever come home like this. You shouldn’t have to.” His thumbs brushed over your knuckles, steady and warm. “You’re safe now. We’ll take care of you.”

Belphegor reached you last but when he did, it hit the hardest. He grabbed your sleeve, eyes trembling, breath shallow. “You looked… you looked like this the day I…” He didn’t finish. Couldn’t. He buried his face into your shoulder, arms wrapping around your waist in a vice grip. “Don’t ever walk in here looking like that again. You have no idea what it does to me.”

All seven closed in around you then, forming a tight circle: a barrier of bodies, warmth, magic, and raw emotion. Mammon’s chest pressed to your side, arms around you. Belphie clung to your waist like you might vanish. Levi clutched your sleeve, trying not to faint. Beel held your hand against his cheek. Asmo gently stroked your hair. Satan stood behind you, protective and vibrating with unspoken wrath. Lucifer rested a hand between your shoulder blades, grounding you with the weight of someone who almost lost everything.

They didn’t let go. Not when you explained the mission. Not when you insisted you were fine. Not even when you tried to step forward.

Instead, they slowly, carefully, guided you to the bathroom. Seven pairs of trembling hands washed the blood from your skin. Warm towels. Gentle touches. Quiet murmurs of your name. Lucifer’s palms steadying your shoulders. Mammon massaging shampoo into your hair with a softness he didn’t know he had. Asmo running warm water over your arms. Satan silently checking every inch of skin for injury with clinical precision. Beel holding your hand so you wouldn’t shake. Levi handing you clean clothes with red face and watery eyes. Belphie pressing kisses to your temple each time his hands passed your neck.

When you were finally clean, dry, and changed, they guided you to bed, not letting you walk alone for even one second. Lucifer pulled the blanket over you. Asmo tucked the corners in. Satan wiped a final smear of blood from your jaw. Beel pressed a snack into your hand “just in case.” Levi set up the pillows. Mammon lay down beside you protectively. Belphie curled around you like a second blanket.

And the others joined. All seven. Surrounding you. Holding you. Breathing with you. You fell asleep in a tangle of limbs, warmth, and quiet whispers:

“You’re safe.”

“We’ve got you.”

“Never again.”

“Stay with us.”

“We love you.”

Seven demons. One human. And the unshakeable truth that none of them could survive losing you, not again, not ever.

Up next: 🧛 Biohazard 🧛 (Solomon x Reader)

[dontbeunraisonable]

Exception to the Rule - Obey Me Brothers x GN!Reader

Prompt: When it comes to this, you are the exception to the rule.

Featuring: the 7 Obey Me brothers

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: language, none

LUCIFER

He doesn’t mind when you make more work for him. You’re always so apologetic and thank him genuinely, no matter how big or small the mess is.

The first few weeks in the Devildom, he accompanied you to the grocery store and would pop in to see how you were faring in the kitchen. When you need help with an assignment (or with a teacher), he might sigh but always motions you over.

“This paperwork can wait a little longer. I could use a break from it anyways.”

It takes a while for him to admit it, but he likes when you come to him for help instead of his younger brothers. According to you, he… “likely has more experience with this sorta thing”, “won’t make a big deal of it”, or “is better at explaining”. And while he doesn’t much care for flattery, you only say such things in private. And you truly mean it.

But he truly fought for his life (and lost) to try and keep from blushing when you look up one night from your reading spot in his study with a serious look on your face.

“Hey, I just wanted to say that I really appreciate how patient you are with me. I apologize that I make extra work for you and that I follow you around so much. I just- I really enjoy your company and I’m thankful I have you.”

He didn’t get much else done that evening.

MAMMON

Using Goldie. He won’t let you take her out and about, per se, but he put Goldie on your Akuber account.

“If ya want a late night snack, order using this. Don’t leave in the middle of the night without me and definitely don’t ask anyone else to get ya food.”

When you giggled about it to Simeon and Satan between classes, they told you that Mammon would throw you under the bus the moment Lucifer got his hand on Goldie’s credit card statement. 

But the credit card statement came and went. Mammon was the only one strung up by his ankles in the living room. You went to Lucifer to try and shorten his sentence, explaining that you were to blame for some of the charges.

“Oh, so that was your account. He didn’t tell me whose it was. Not to worry, though. Your food ordering didn’t even account for 1% of what that idiot charged on that damnable card. So he will dangle and wail for as long as I want him to. Off you go.”

 You immediately brought Mammon snacks and water, hand feeding him and shooing away whatever brother had come to gloat. Needless to say, he did not learn his lesson and was not the least bit remorseful.

LEVIATHAN

Going outside. It started when you asked him to go to a new store, or cafe, or restaurant with you because you didn’t want to go alone. He made a fuss, but relented so as to have the opportunity to make the others jealous. It was… fine. Better than he expected, not that he’d admit it aloud. 

A few weeks later, there was an event to support The Magical Ruri Hana: Demon Girl that was IRL that he really wanted to go to. He barged into your room with a scowl and asked (i.e. told) you to join him.

“I went outside to do that stupid thing with you, so now you have to return the favor and come with me to support Ruri-chan.”

“Sure, Levi, I’d love to go with you.”

“...” 

Thankfully, he didn’t flood the House of Lamentation but it was quite the struggle. You went with him happily, letting him yammer on and on. 

Now that he unlocked you as a travel companion, he could go to way more events to support all the things he loved! And if it was too much, you were an expert at maneuvering out of somewhere and taking him back to the safety of his room. Or going up to booths and asking for something on his behalf while he hovered silently (and a bit nervously) behind you.

And no! He did NOT like going outside now. But it was more bearable with you.

SATAN

Moving his books around. Somehow, nothing you do (or at least, very little) irritates him. Whenever you want to borrow a book, you: text him to let him know you’re going to his room, list the books you’re taking, and let him know if you’re reading in there. You don’t try to reorganize them or pack them onto the shelves. You even made a system where you put sticky notes or pieces of paper on the shelf or sticking out a stack where the book had originally been.

“You tread so carefully in here that sometimes I won’t even know you borrowed a book until I look at my messages. With my idiot brothers, I can hear them messing things up all the way from RAD. You are welcome to come in here anytime. Don’t ask to come over, just tell me you are.”

Unfortunately, Levi heard him say this and made the foolish mistake of laughing and giving away his location.

One very loud smackdown and one very long lecture later, the pair of you were stacking the books and placing anything damaged in a specific place to be repaired once all the missing pages or chunks of binding were found.

“I meant what I said. And if Levi ever comes in here, kick him out for me.”

ASMODEUS

Using his private bathroom. Your room has a half bath in it for you to brush your teeth and such, but you have to follow the established order of baths with the other boys in the communal bathroom. After a few nights of having to stay up later than you wanted to bathe after the brothers goofed around for too long, you knocked on Asmo’s door. You had your pajamas, your toiletries bag, and your hands clasped together in pleading.

“I won’t be long, not even half an hour. I just want to shower real quick!”

To your surprise, Asmo ushered you in and pulled out a bunch of things for you to try. If you shooed him away while you bathed, he would tease but oblige, resolving to simply pounce on you with skin and hair care once you exited the bathroom. If you let him stay, he chats idly and gives you a review on basically every item in his bathroom, making a pile of things you’ll try that evening.

Once cozied up in your pajamas and a silk robe Asmo loaned you, he gives you a full bedtime makeover. You fell asleep during the pampering, and you got several comments from the other brothers the following morning at breakfast of how nice you looked and smelled.

From that day on, Asmo promised he’d let you use his bathroom whenever. And rubbed it in the face of all the others that he was the only one who shared a bath with you now.

BEELZEBUB

Sharing food with you. You always offered him the first bite of your meal when you all went out. Now, you weren’t stupid: you prepared a normal sized bite for him and gave it to him, rather than letting him get his own bite. The first couple of times you offered it to him, he ate about half of your burger or plate or meal in one bite. You didn’t make that mistake again.

But he was touched. You always let him have the first bite. So he started offering you the first (or second or last) bite of his meal.

“Here, try this. Taste alright?”

You opened your mouth while you were stirring something on the stove, and Beel fed you a spoonful of the sauce he was making, his hand under your chin to catch any spill and his eyes fixed on your face.

“BEEL!” shrieked Mammon and Asmo from the doorway. “You put that spoon in your mouth just a second ago! You just indirectly kissed them! You pervert!”

Levi and Satan bellowed from the dining room, and Beel chased his older brothers from the kitchen. A pause as he looked at you expectantly.

“Did it taste alright?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah. Maybe a little more heavy cream, but yeah, it’s good, Beel.”

BELPHEGOR

Doting on him. As one of the younger brothers, he is often the victim of teasing, baby-talk, and obnoxious cheek pinches.

However, he pretends to not hear when you giggle to Beel about how cute he looks with his cheek smushed while sleeping. When you wake him up gently, whispering and rubbing his back, he takes his time in stirring. He’ll roll into your lap and let you scratch his scalp in the evening while everyone is winding down. Where Asmo would get attacked for cooing at him napping somewhere ridiculous, he would twitch the tip of his tail when you did the same.

When Mammon brags that you brought him snacks when Lucifer was punishing him, insisting that you saved all your affection for him, your “first”, Satan corrects him.

“You’re stupider than you look, Mammon. Haven’t you seen the picture of Belphie in their lap? They dote on him like he’s a kitten.”

Normally, he would snap at Satan and make sure he never went near you again to avoid that nonsense. But this time, he scoffed. “They treat you like that because they pity what an idiotic scumbag you are. They treat me like this because they actually like me.”

“... Man, you guys are so mean t’ me.”

Thanks for reading ! If you enjoyed it, here's a link to my other works!

Posted: 2025 September 1

[rae-writes]

if you could do r trying on a new pheromone perfume and the brothers (separately) are js like 👁️👁️ and suddenly pounces on them and readers js so confused you’d literally be godsent😫

(my inspiration was that one Rafayel scene from lds-)

suggestive || bonus characters bc harem || whether or not Mc knew it was pheromone perfume is up for debate || 1.k wc

Lucifer pauses for a brief second while not faltering in what he was doing, subtly trying to detect the cause of the scent invading every sense of his. He's one of the quickest to figure it out, eyes darkening as he empties his hands before gripping your waist and pulling you as close as physically possible; his face is in your neck before you can even blink and you both stay like that for a moment before he's silently tugging you to wherever he can sit down with you on top of him

Mammon's head snaps up so fast it almost hurts, eyes zeroing in on you. He knows where the scent is coming from, but he just doesn't understand why you suddenly smell even better than usual...he ain't shy as he slides his fingers over your wrist, up your forearm, going until he's caressing the slope of your neck. His breathing is shaky and his voice cracks a little when he whispers how intoxicated you're making him feel. He's got you laid down against the closest flat surface so he can run his hands over you, nose buried against the underside of your jaw as he breathes you in until he's damn near drunk off it

Levi's tail acts faster than he does, curling around your thighs and yanking you closer before he catches up with the action. His embarrassment is cut off when he finally registers the smell, too, and suddenly his face is red for a different reason. He'll fire off a million questions, adding his own jumbled thoughts in between, subconsciously latching every possible limb around you; his face is buried against your chest, fangs accidentally brushing the skin as he stutters out apologies, but doesn't stop

Satan perks up much like a cat, intense blue-green hues staring you down like he's ready to actually pounce. He approaches slowly, trying to figure out the source of your new scent on the way over, but ultimately decides to bury himself against you— your neck, chest, shoulder, nape— breathily asking what you were doing to him. He feels like he's been drugged, almost like a feline with catnip, but it's so dizzily good that he can't complain. Drags you off to where no one will be able to find you, so that your scent won't find anyone but him

Asmo is giddy the second he catches a wiff, easily pinpointing the reason for your scent change, and the exact listing of the brand you used. He's shameless as he requests a thorough product review, rubbing his frame up against yours as he holds you from behind, eyes peering over your shoulder with a bright pink hue. Cheekily insists that you’re better off without so many clothes on, wanting your scent to rub off on him so you can match (and so he can smell it for the rest of the day).

Beel is confused when the food in his mouth isn’t tasting as good as it should. The scent invades his nose, making his eyes search for what has to be a delicious source, only to find you instead of something edible. He’s all over you, mumbling out apologies and that he doesn’t know what’s gotten into him, asking won’t you please let him just…be near you? He trails after you like a puppy, not really sure why you’re captivating his entire being with just your smell. His mouth eventually finds your neck, nibbling and sucking as he tries to get a ‘taste’ of that scent.

Belphie, while unwilling to get up out of his spot, is instantly at attention with eyes following you around the room. He’ll whine and complain until he’s got you at his side, trapping you in his arms and against his lounging form. He’s almost tense, as he inhales that new scent, like a ram waiting to charge. His tone is lazy and drawn out, but tinged with a need that he’s confused about, yet so willing to dive into. He’s surrounded by you, literally and figuratively, as he keeps you tight in his arms, not above begging to get his way.

Diavolo is so fucking clueless, wide eyes blinking up at you almost innocently as he asks if you were wearing a new perfume. He finds himself inching closer to you, gaze never leaving your figure for long— a gaze that get darker and more lidded as time passes. He’s still clueless as ever, yet doesn’t mind the mystery since he’s always willing for an excuse to be with you. His cheeks are flushed and his touch a tad hesitant, but it all flies out the window when you allow him to bury his face against your abdomen, kneeling on the floor, letting his mind swim.

Barbatos takes one glance at you after catching on to the scent and knows, but unlike the pudding incident when he fled the scene, he’s coiling you up with his tail and keeping you impossibly close, unwilling to let anyone have you this time. Unabashedly, his nose is trailing along the slope of your neck, lips brushing the skin as he places slow kisses over all the right spots. Whether or not he does or doesn’t have time to spare, he’s whisking you away and trapping you against his frame, almost begging you to let him be selfish and improper as he inhales your scent with an abandon that would usually make him pause; he can forgive himself, if it’s because of you, unwilling to let go of this opportunity at your eager answer of ‘yes’.

Mephisto almost trips as he passes you by in the hallways of RAD, whirling around to gape at you rather dumbly. Stubbornly fights the urge to follow you for all of thirty seconds before he’s trailing after you with urgency. Manages to simply walk alongside you and keep polite small talk just until you’re both out of eyesight, because then he’s pulling you towards him and groaning, asking what the hell you thought you were doing walking around other demons while smelling so good. It’s a struggle to keep a dignified facade when he’s rushing you down the corridor— but once he gets you in a room, it’s all crumbling as he latches his lips to your neck’s pulse point. The Newspaper Club’s office is closed until further notice.

Solomon doesn’t really register the smell at first, both because it’s more subtle for humans, and because he was playing around with various potions— but once he did catch the smell after you’d gotten closer, he’s swiping everything to the side and placing you on the table instead. He is allll over you, not even hiding the flush on his cheeks as he inhales your scent; practically panting in the crook of your neck. Apologizes if you had something planned later, because he’s keeping you for the rest of the day, wanting to experiment with your new perfume. He knows he’s being overly touchy and a…bit desperate, but just indulge in his whims, yeah?

Simeon’s pretty sure that his heart was going to beat straight out of his chest. He couldn’t understand why he felt so warm and fuzzy all the sudden, but had a feeling it was probably because of you (because only you could make him feel this way). Shyly asks if he could sit closer to you, pleasantly surprised when you tug his head to rest in your lap. His fingers lift your shirt up just enough for him to press his nose against a sliver of skin, face buried against your stomach as his hands grip and massage your thighs. Genuinely content to just lay there and let your scent consume him, though he won’t argue if you ask to help him out.

Raphael…thinks he’s sick. Which is odd, because he hasn’t been sick in a few centuries, but then again..you make him feel…odd. Which is why he walked straight up to you and flat out asked if you were doing it on purpose— why did you smell so good? Why was it making him like this?? He’ll have to be guided, your hand leading both of his to your hips, his head tucking into your neck. He’s still confused, but more than willing to investigate. You’re so..enchanting…he can make idle complaints all day long, but he refuses to let go of you now. He likes how it feels. And he likes the way you react to him.

[venuscrashed]

The brothers with an absolute baddie reader, where half of the devildom has a crush on her when she arrives for the exchange program.

Lucifer who didn't take a good look at your photo when your file fell onto the floor. Who didn't expect much from a mere human being but was taken aback when he first met you. He stared down at you as you sat on the floor confused after being summoned in front of the student council due to Diavolo's orders. He was quietly stunned at your beauty, never had he seen such beauty even when he was in heaven. He was cautious around you for the first couple of weeks, but after he got to know you? It was all over. Never had his ego been fused before. He had you, the whole kingdom's crush on his arm and was able to flaunt you. He didn't know what he was more pride about, having you with him or into him. Safe to say you will always be with him.

Mammon who was secretly hoping to be your personal guide when you first came. He didn't know what about you attracted him first, the flashy jewelry that adorned your body or the striking gaze that you had whenever you looked at him. He had never felt greedier then when you two first kissed. You two were sitting in his room for a movie night. Somehow, even after you got unready, you were still breathtaking. He held you close to his chest as the movie played, not so secretly keeping you to himself. He practically radiated with joy when you pulled him down for a kiss. Full on threw his arms into the air and shouted "yes!" He is absolutely down bad.

Levi who is jealous that you could do whatever and have whatever you wanted. What attracted him the most was your ability to get through social interactions effortlessly, even if you got tired after. He was absolutely dumbfounded when you showed interest him. You? Whose makeup was always flawless, and clothes fitted in all the right spots, liked him? Yeah, he was starting to rival Lucifer in pride. Despite being absolutely proud of being with you, he was the one on your arm. He followed you everywhere and did whatever, especially in social interactions. The one time you cosplayed as one of his favorite characters he died and then came back to life just to kneel at your feet.

Satan who was certainly intrigued about your looks. You were attractive, he would admit, but he wasn't as easy as the rest of his brothers. He stood to keeping his nose in his books, sometimes using them as an excuse to avoid your gaze. Expect he had no idea that you were into nerdy guys like him, though he wasn't complaining. You had to make the first move to get him to date you. You cornered him one day and pushed him against the wall with one manicured hand, which happened to be his favorite color. It was then that he realized he was exactly like his brothers. Despite the fact he would pretend to not be into it, he doesn't complain when you pull him down for a kiss. Especially if you do it in front of his brothers.

Asmo who already claimed you as his when he first saw you. Two baddies together? Yeah, you both had the whole devildom smitten with you guys. He doesn't waste one chance to post you, going back to read all the thirst comments after the first five minutes of posting. Even though you were already drop dead gorgeous, he would do your makeup and pick your outfit. He would let you do the same in return, in hopes for a photoshoot of course. Doesn't matter if you two are in public or not, he's always pulling you aside for a quick make out session. You can't blame him though; it's part of his nature.

Beel who has a new type of hunger for you and only you. For the first few weeks of knowing you, he would follow you around. He looked like a lost puppy; it was adorable really. He would open doors and pull-out chairs for you. He never outright says it, but he makes it clear when the two of you start dating. Whenever you're near, he never eats unless you feed him which took everyone by surprise. He likes to sit on your bed and watch you get ready. He never really says anything unless it's a compliment, occasionally you'll get the "you're pretty" comment, but he always shows you instead of tells you how he feels. Even though he's not good at it he will take photos for you and only makes sure to get good angles of you. You trained him, obviously.

Belphie who's only ever seen you in his dreams. Well, until you finally arrived in his life. He thought that you were only his ideal type until he realized that you were actually now in his life. Yeah, you're pretty and all, probably the prettiest woman he's ever seen, but you're much more comfortable to sleep on. He'll shamelessly lay on top of you and naps there, resting his head on either your stomach or chest. In public, he'll rest his head on your shoulder but will have his arms loosely wrapped around you to show everyone you're his. Absolutely sleeps with a smirk whenever he knows someone is staring jealously. Though, he thinks you look the best in pajamas and no makeup on.

[temis-de-leon]

With a fem!MC that is attracted to their demon forms

Characters: Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub and Belphegor (x reader, separately)

Setting: friends with feelings. Horny brains

Part 1 (context fic), Part 2 (introduction + older brothers) , Part 4 (dateables)

Main Masterlist

Requested by Anon: Do you perhaps accept suggestive requests? I've always thought about how the demon brothers are quite literally still demons. And as you probably know— emphasis on probably — there are people out there who LIKE (dare I say, turned on) when it comes to them being all demonic and stuff. With their forms, or just the stuff they do? I wonder how'd they'd feel about MC who doesn't run away but is even turned on by it?? It's usually in dark romance (the ones in the past, not the ones now.) where the ML does evil things for the FL lol (like k*lling someone for her) If this isn't something you're comfortable with, feel free to ignore + delete this! But if you decide to add it to your list, I'm honored ❣️

C/W: possesiveness at different degrees, a bit more desperation, MC is comfortable getting naked in front of Asmo (not necessarily because they're flirting), body insecurity, very slight mention of human consumption, thoughts of exposure (if that's the word?), consensual somnophilia, dream control, forced wet dreams

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Satan may not be the most obvious in his behaviour, but he is the most shameless about the whole situation. Although he looks candid, you know better than to trust his seemingly innocent invitations to his room. You even wonder if this is how Lucifer feels, always wondering if there are second intentions to the blond’s offerings, but that isn’t enough to stop you from turning a blind eye and accepting.

You know he doesn’t mean harm, and he knows you know, so the whole thing turns into a game of sorts. Like leaving clues for the other to find and interpret.

He asked you to study Curses and Hexes once, only to put a spell on you that prevented you from saying a name other than his own, which drove his brothers crazy. He apologized for it, but everyone could tell he loved the sound of his name coming out of your lips, especially when talking to other people.

There was another time when he wanted you both to act like cats, and then proceeded to show affection as such, cuddling and grooming you. You had giggled at first, feeling his lips repeatedly brushing your hair and the edges of your face, but then he’d given you a tentative lick on your chin, and you both quickly remembered that you weren’t cats at all.

Chasing each other so playfully almost makes you forget that his demon form is what makes you tremble with arousal; and it isn’t until he traps you against one of his bookshelves, hides his hands behind his back, and lifts your chin with his tail that you remember how the whole thing started to begin with.

He watches with a smug smile as you try to swallow your nerves, and the neon green tip rattles in excitement. Although its segments are smooth and hard, like the keratin in his horns, his tail is flexible and doesn’t pinch your skin. It caresses you, cradling your face and bringing you towards him until you’re basically leaning forward. You don’t even notice you’re tiptoeing until he finally takes his hands out and hugs you tight enough to synchronize your heartbeats.

You only went to his room because he recommended a romance book.

Asmodeus will appreciate if you notice the extra effort he puts in his appearance nowadays. Sure, he can take the shortcut, change into his demon form and wait until you lose patience and use him as much as your bodies need, but where’s the fun in that? The journey can be just as fun as the destination <3

He can’t use his charming powers on you, so he has to refine himself and go the extra mile. He’ll bathe himself in milk and oils until his skin is silky smooth; he’ll style his hair so it’s fluffy and bouncy; he’ll add just enough makeup for his features to be accentuated and not covered; and he’ll wear some addicting perfumes that your human mind won’t ever be able to comprehend.  

He’ll offer himself to you any time of the day, but he also wants to be earned. He wants you to fight for him, to seduce him; to put in the work until you get a reward.

All in all, he wants to be desired in a way no one but you can experience.

As you can imagine, everything around him will crumble if you ignore his attempts, or worse, if you treat him like everything’s normal.

You take off your RAD uniform when you’re both alone, bending down to untie your shoes (and letting him see the underwear under the pantyhose), and facing away to unbutton your shirt and bra (because insinuating that your breasts are naked is somehow far more provocative than directly showing them to him); and he can’t even keep the conversation going without letting out a whine or a pitiful moan. There you are, talking about your homework, and he’s only thinking about the lacy seams on your panties.

He’ll frown and pout if you walk past by him and slap his ass in an empty hallway, but he can’t hide the beautiful redness on his face (he wants to know how it would feel like if you struck him harder or if you let your hand rest there for a little longer).

But if you go clubbing together and you try to act like a wingwoman? You will never see Asmodeus so frustrated and irritated. He’s trying to get your attention, not someone else’s!

Once he’s pinning your hands over your head in the VIP rooms and his wings are fluttering with anticipation, he finally understands what you’ve been doing. And when the realization hits, all he wants to do is kiss and bite that victorious grin off your face.

Beelzebub is a little unsure about his possibilities with you regarding his demon form. He has horns, sure, but so do the rest of his brothers, and his wings aren’t as impressive as Lucifer’s or as dangerous to touch as most other demons’.  He doesn’t have spikes, thorns, or even venomous glands; just a couple of insect wings adapted to support his body weight and induce nausea with their noise.

He has never felt embarrassed by his looks before, but he does feel at a disadvantage now.

The only thing that sets him apart from his brothers is his infinite appetite, but… can you see that as an attractive feature of his? Can you see him gobbling down the same amount of food you’d eat in a week in just a matter of minutes, and still him as someone you’d want to kiss or surrender yourself to? Would you ever trust him with your body after watching him drool over the memory of human meat? Just thinking about smelling and tasting the softness of your tummy makes him want to roll his eyes in ecstasy.

One time you stretched your arms, letting your belly button peek under your shirt, and he almost groaned out loud.

He’s always felt drawn to your scent and your warmth (sweat and natural oils covering your skin, and blood keeping you alive from within), but his needs have become almost unbearable in the last few days.

He tries to find every little opportunity to be near you, to hold your body and bring it close enough until he’s finally able to imagine what it would feel like to have it trembling underneath his.

When you needed to grab one of the pots from the tallest shelf, he didn’t hesitate to hold you by your thighs and hoist you up; enamoured by the idea of having your belly glued to the side of his face and the weight of your backside subtly resting on top of his forearms.

When his fangol trainer asked you to do some basic exercises so he could have the standard limits of a human, Beel quickly offered to be the one to glue your feet to the ground and count how many sit-ups you managed to do. In reality, he’d lowered his face to your knees, and almost immediately imagined himself forcing your legs open and launching forward.

Right then and there. Out in the open, in front of his coach.

He finally has the opportunity to give in temptation when you’re both sharing some fruit in the kitchen and a drop of juice follows the curve of your throat before disappearing under your shirt and between your breasts. His breath hitches and he looks at you with wide eyes, like a dog waiting for instructions, but you barely lift your chin in response.

Be thankful your bedroom’s next door.

Although elated, Belphegor is at a loss of words.

Never in a million years would he have imagined that you found his demon form attractive. Not after… all of that. Sure, you’re comfortable sleeping around him and you’ve danced with him at a couple of dances here and there, but still.

It was a surprise.

Nonetheless, he won’t let himself take this new discovery for granted. His demon nature isn’t defined just by his horns and his tail, after all, and you’ve forgiven too much of his brattiness and entitlement for those to suddenly become a problem. He always suspected you found them somewhat endearing, anyway, but now he just believes it’s true.

He thinks of all the times he has hugged you tighter whenever you tried to get up each morning, hiding his nose in your hair and using your body as a blanket as he rolled you away from the free side of the bed and caged you against the wall. You’d fought him briefly, without passion, and he’d wondered if you liked when he treated you like that. Like he’d do anything to not let you go.

He thinks of entering your dreams, reshaping them so he can have his way with you unapologetically, and waking up hours later still having your unaltered friendship. He has created infinite worlds where you were entirely, solely, his, and he’s enjoyed every bit of your being as if it were true. As if real life only took place in his bed.

He thinks of sending you to deep sleep, whispering his dirtiest thoughts to your unconscious and witnessing your moaning and your twitching during the night. He thoroughly enjoys letting you think that the scandalous filth was born within you all along, and watching you wake up with tense muscles, sweat-kissed skin and parting lips always feels like a reward he never deserved to begin with.

He thinks he is dreaming, right now, when he feels your hips wriggling over his own before opening his eyes. It’s too warm under the blankets and your tongue is wet and hot against the clammy skin of his throat, but he doesn’t find himself to be bothered about it. Slowly, affected by the drowsiness, he places his hands on your lower back and pushes downwards, pressing you fully against him.

Belphie hopes you understand the action as an invitation to go as far as your body wishes.

As for him, he’ll go back to slumber.

.

.

Taglist: @ilovecandys2010 @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion @whimsybloom @mia4gotcookiez @evedml @apersonveryfanofomori @ramblings-of-a-mad-knight

[papzig]

Obey Me Brothers x S/O with zero survival instincts

Lucifer

• The first time you casually walked into a clearly cursed room because “the vibes were interesting,” he aged 300 years.

• He now keeps subtle tracking magic on you. You don’t know. He will deny it.

• You: “I touched it.”

• Him: “…Of course you did.”

• He has a permanent hand on the back of your collar in dangerous situations.

• Secretly admires that you’re fearless. Publicly? He’s exhausted.

• If a demon threatens you, you’ll step forward like, “What’s the worst that could happen?

• Lucifer: “The worst. The worst could happen.”

• He absolutely scolds you… then stays up all night making protective wards for your room.

Mammon

• Says you’re reckless. Is also reckless. You two are a disaster.

• You’ll try to pet a demonic beast. He’ll yell, “DON’T—” while also reaching to pet it.

• Constantly grabbing your wrist and dragging you out of bad situations.

• If someone tries to take advantage of your lack of self-preservation? He gets scary fast.

• “Oi! They don’t even know they’re in danger, ya jerk!”

• You trusting strangers makes him weirdly soft. Like. You trust him that much too?

• Pretends he’s only keeping you safe because you’re “his human,” but he checks on you 24/7.

Leviathan

• Cannot comprehend how you’re still alive.

• You: walking into a suspicious cave.

• Levi: “THAT’S A SIDE QUEST AREA. WE ARE NOT HIGH ENOUGH LEVEL.”

• Tries to give you tutorials like you’re a fragile NPC.

• Has made flowcharts titled “THINGS YOU SHOULD NOT TOUCH.”

• Gets flustered when you confidently stand between him and something dangerous.

• “YOU HAVE NO DEFENSE STATS, MC!”

• Lowkey thinks your recklessness is protagonist behavior and now believes you’re the main character

Satan

• Initially finds your lack of survival instinct fascinating.

• “Is it ignorance or bravery?”

• Reads books on human psychology trying to figure you out.

• If someone manipulates you because you’re too trusting? He goes cold. Terrifyingly cold.

• He’ll calmly explain why something is dangerous… while subtly moving you behind him.

• Sometimes deliberately lets you wander a little just to observe how you think.

• Keeps antidotes on him at all times because you absolutely will drink something glowing.

Asmodeus

• Thinks it’s cute at first. “Aww, you’re so trusting!”

• Stops thinking it’s cute when you almost accept candy from a shady demon.

• Now physically clings to you in public spaces.

• “No, babe, we don’t follow mysterious whispers in the hallway.”

• If someone flirts with you with bad intentions? Asmo goes from bubbly to venomous in 0.3 seconds.

• Lowkey loves that you feel safe enough to be carefree.

• Carries hand sanitizer, pepper spray, and emergency glam kits because you will absolutely trip into chaos.

Beelzebub

• Protective instinct: ACTIVATED.

• You almost wandered into a restricted area? He just gently lifts you and carries you away.

• You: “But I wanted to see.”

• Him: “It smells dangerous.”

• He trusts his gut over your judgment. Every time.

• If something lunges at you, it’s already been body-slammed.

• Doesn’t scold you. Just stays closer.

• Lets you hold his arm in crowded or risky areas so he can react instantly.

Belphegor

• At first he assumes you’re pretending.

• Then he realizes you genuinely lack self-preservation.

• “You’d get kidnapped in five minutes without us.”

• Sometimes tests it by saying, “Don’t go in there.”

• You: immediately goes in there.

• Sighs. Follows.

• If someone actually tries to harm you? The sleepy demeanor drops instantly.

• Keeps you close when he naps because you absolutely would wander off and accidentally trigger an ancient curse.

• Secretly likes that you trust them all so blindly. It makes him weirdly possessive.

[nekonaps0]

I absolutely loved both of the series with excuse me sir, and you're naughty. Could you possibly write an obey me version, sorry if its too much just noticed the fandom in your masterlist.

Sinfully naughty

✦characters: demon brothers

✦gn!reader

✦dirty jokes

✦their partner suddenly cracked a naughty, suggestive joke

Lucifer

"Are you a punishment? Because I’ve been very bad and I’d love to be disciplined… hard."


Lucifer arches an eyebrow, his usual composed expression shifting into one of amusement mixed with dangerous interest. He sets down his book slowly, turns his full attention to you, and walks over with deliberate, slow steps.

"Oh? That’s quite bold of you, saying something like that so casually. I suppose you’re testing me... But if you're asking for discipline, I do hope you're ready to take full responsibility for that mouth of yours."

He smirks, brushing a strand of your hair aside with one gloved finger.

"Let’s see how long you can maintain that cheeky attitude once I start."

You are cooked…

Mammon

"You must be a magician, 'cause every time you’re around, your clothes disappear... in my head."


Mammon immediately turns red, his hands flying up in defense.

"H-Hey! W-What kind of joke is that?! Are ya tryin' to kill me with embarrassment?!"

He stammers, flustered and blushing, glancing around as if someone else heard you. But then, a cocky grin starts forming despite himself.

"Tch, I mean... I can't blame ya for imaginin' me like that, though. I am the Great Mammon, after all. B-But next time, maybe warn me before droppin’ bombs like that, alright?!"

He nervously tapping his feet on the ground, clearly affected more than he wants to admit.

Leviathan

"You’re like an ultra-rare item drop... 'cause I’ve been grinding all day, and now I just wanna play with you."


Levi chokes on his soda and nearly drops his console.

"Wha—?! E-EHHH?! D-Don’t say stuff like that out of nowhere! I—I’m not emotionally prepared for that kind of side quest!"

His face goes cherry red and he covers his mouth, clearly overloaded.

"I-I mean… i-if this were a dating sim, that'd definitely be a secret route! A very NSFW one... N-Not that I’m complaining! I just—uh—h-how do you even say something like that so casually?!"

He fidgets with his console and mumbles something under his breath what more like whining.

Satan

"Are you a forbidden book? Because I want to spend all night exploring your dark secrets."


Satan closes his current novel and gives you an amused smirk, his green eyes glinting mischievously.

"How delightfully wicked. I didn’t expect such a provocative line from you. And you delivered it so... naturally."

He leans closer, resting his elbow on the back of the couch, studying you like a puzzle he’s eager to solve.

"I suppose I could be your ‘forbidden book’ tonight ,though I must warn you, the content is... intense, and once you start, you won't want to stop reading."

He winks, brushing your hand with his fingertips.

Asmodeus

"Are you lube? Because everything goes smoother when you’re around me and everything slips in so easily..."


Asmo gasps, putting a hand dramatically over his heart.

"Oh my! That was positively naughty! I love it!"

He bursts into giggles, already leaning into you with a flirty glimmer in his eyes.

"I didn’t know you had it in you, darling! That’s spicy, clever, and a huge turn-on. Say more things like that and I might just lose control and drag you straight to the bedroom."

He winks, pulling out his D.D.D.

"Hold still, I must record your voice saying that so I can loop it tonight~!"

Beelzebub

"You’re like my favorite dessert, sweet, irresistible, and I want to devour you after every meal."


Beel pauses mid-bite, blinking at you with wide eyes. It takes a second for the joke to sink in... and then he blushes.

"Oh... wow. That was... unexpected."

He chuckles a bit, looking both flustered and deeply intrigued.

"I thought you were talking about actual dessert at first... but now I can’t stop thinking about you like that either. And honestly... I wouldn't mind making you my dessert tonight..."

He licks a bit of frosting off his finger ,very pointedly and gives you a shy but hungry smile.

Belphegor

"You’re like my pillow, soft, comforting, and I wanna be on top of you every night."


Belphie opens one eye from his nap, smirks, and slowly stretches.

"Mmm... that’s surprisingly bold for you. Trying to get me worked up before a nap? Naughty."

He yawns, but it’s clearly an act, he smiles and eyes shining with amusement.

"You keep talking like that and I won’t be able to sleep… though I might find a better way to get us tired and knock us out."

He pulls you down beside him, draping an arm lazily over your waist.

"Keep making jokes like that, and I’ll start taking them as invitations."

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

Oh yeah baby! I can finally post Obey Me stuff as well! And yeees everything what’s on my master list are gonna come soon (I jusy got a lot of twst request)