You sometimes forget how strong demons really are. You never thought of them as your equal from the start, because you are only a human, a fragile one at that. You know you can get hurt easily, crushed by things they would barely notice, even if you try your best to protect yourself. Most of the time, they are careful, but there are moments when they forget that your body is not made to handle their strength.
One time, you were talking with Diavolo, standing close as he laughed loudly at something you said. He laughed so hard that his stomach hurt, and without thinking, he gave you a friendly pat on the back.
It sent you straight to the ground. You hit the floor before you even realized what happened. Diavolo froze, then panicked, immediately apologizing over and over, fussing over you with so much guilt that he completely forgot for a moment that his strength was never normal to begin with.
Another time, Belphie was asleep with his head on your lap. You were relaxed, gently playing with his hair, until he shifted in his sleep and his demon tail suddenly slapped your face.
Mammon, who was right beside you, immediately shouted at Belphie for hurting you. Later, when you checked, there was a bruise forming on your cheek. You didn’t even expect it to bruise.
You and Levi were late for a convention, and he grabbed your arm and started running, panic pushing him forward as he dragged you along. It was only later that you noticed the marks on your arm, dark and sore from how tightly he held you. None of them ever meant to hurt you, but moments like these reminded you again and again that you are human, and they are demons.
You ended up scolding them again and command them to not touch you for a week because there are bruises everywhere, you need to let it heal somehow or else people gonna assume the worse.
The game talks about how the brothers often end up sneaking in MC's room to hang out sooo whats it like when they sneak in at night?
Originally going to be short head cannons but I got carried away and they're more like one shots now... so this will be split up into parts to save everyone from reading the longest post ever.
Content: SFW but there's some spicy suggestion, kissing, cuddling, etc.
First part pairings: Lucifer, Mammon, Levi x gn!MC
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Lucifer
You thought Devildom would freeze over before you’d ever walk into your room and see Lucifer, of all demons, asleep in your bed. It wasn’t unusual for him to request, ok well, demand, that you spend the night in his room, but in yours?
This was new.
Yet there he was, sound asleep in your bed, arms wrapped around one of your pillows, face buried in it, breathing slow and even.
You'd just teleported back, air still humming with magic. After a week in the human world, you were so exhausted you decided to slip in quietly and just greet the brothers in the morning. Too tired for the excitement.
A soft laugh slipped from your lips as you set your bag down, shaking your head, shoes already kicked off as you crawled into bed.
He slept on the very edge of the bed, as if he’d deliberately left room for you.
You eased one knee onto the mattress, moving carefully, trying not to disturb him. The mattress creaked as you shifted your weight, and that was when the pillow slipped from his arms.
Before you could even process what was happening his fingers closed around your wrists, strong and firm, pulling you down until you were flush against him. Then, in one fluid movement, he flipped you onto your back.
Your breath caught, a tiny yelp leaving your lips as he pinned your wrists above your head.
"Did you think you could sneak into my house without saying hello?" He whispered, breath warm against your ear, and you could practically feel the smirk on his face.
"You faker!" you accused, squirming under his grip, but you couldn't hide the delighted giggles.
"I waited a week for you. You could at least greet me properly." He retorted, but his grip loosened on your wrists and he rolled onto his back, smug as ever.
You roll back onto him, palms pressed to his chest, pouting up at him. "Hello, and goodnight," you tease softly, but your eyes fluttered closed when his hands thread through your hair, twirling the strands with that slow fond affection he only holds for you.
"Perhaps we could share this bed tonight," his tone making it clear he didn't expected you to say no.
And you definitely don’t.
The moment you settle beside him, his hand finds your waist, holding you like he’s been waiting the entire week just for this. His lips brush your forehead once, twice before they trail slowly over your skin like he’s relearning you inch by inch after too long apart.
You don’t remember falling asleep, only the warmth of his lips against yours.
Mammon
You know its him the instant you hear your doorknob turn, but the loud crash that follows only confirms it. Something, probably his foot, hits your desk, and Mammon hisses through his teeth.
"OW— seriously?! Why’s it so dark in here, MC?! Ya tryin’ to kill me?" he grumbles as he stumbles blindly towards your bed.
He finally makes it to your bed and drops to his knees, hands gripping the blanket as he peers up at you. His eyes are wide, hopeful, and full of longing as he tries to hide the blush creeping up his cheeks.
"What is it Mammon?" You whisper softly, still rubbing sleep from your eyes.
He looks away, then back at you, then away again.
"Well.. The Great Mammon was just thinkin..." He starts and stops as if expecting you to read his mind, save him from the embarrassment. "...that maybe, y’know… if someone was lonely… I could… uh— fix that. By bein’ here. In your room. With you."
You can’t help but roll your eyes, but you shift over anyway, lifting the covers. “You can just admit you want to spend the night—"
He's crawling into bed before you can even finish, sliding under your blankets in a clumsy rush. Despite having given him plenty of space, he presses himself right against you. His chest fits perfectly against your back, arms wrapping tightly around your waist as he buries his face in your hair. You can feel his eyelashes flutter against your neck as he exhales, warm and shaky.
That's when you realize he's shirtless, skin hot against yours.
"I love you, treasure..." he murmurs into your hair, nuzzling closer. And you cant help the blush that now dusts your face, one of those moments where the truth slips out, all soft and unguarded, only for you to hear.
You stay tangled together all night. Once or twice, you swear you're woken up by the press of his lips to your neck, so soft you wonder if maybe you were dreaming.
Leviathan
There's a soft buzz from your phone.
'MC! MC! Emergency! You have to play this new game with me right now! It’s… uh… really good… or… dangerous… or… whatever! lolol'
You smile at the text, though you can feel your palms begin to sweat a bit at the 'dangerous', praying he didn't purchase some cursed game... again.
Not long after there's a soft knock at your door.
"Come in!"
Levi pokes his head inside, oversized headphones hanging around his neck.
"You should really come up with a password MC..." He shakes his head, sighing dramatically. "What if someone just walked in here! Uninvited!"
"...They do that anyway"
He gasps loudly, throwing a hand to his forehead. "Exactly! Which is why you NEED a password! A magical barrier! A high-level anti-normie defense spell!"
He pauses, then lowers his voice.
"…But if I knock, you better let me in, okay?"
"Of course, Levi" You can't help the laugh that falls from your lips.
✦
The glow of your TV flashes in the room, bright whites and colorful hues popping onto screen. You’re propped against a pile of pillows while Levi lies sprawled across the floor, surrounded by his nest of blankets.
"FLAMING LEVIATHAN PUUUNCH!"
You giggle, hugging a fluffy pillow to your chest. "You missed"
"I was just warming up!" he argues, voice growing whiny as the sound of rapid button mashing fills the room.
“TIME FOR MY FINAL MOVE!”
He misses again.
"Don't you dare say anything." He mumbles, cheeks bright red as your giggle fits descend into full bits of laughter.
Hours slipped by in bursts of shouting, laughter, and Levi’s occasional “Did you see that? MC, did you SEE THAT?!” as he landed accidental crits.
Eventually, your eyes grow heavy, your head falling forward as you fight sleep.
"lololol you’re totally about to face plant into your own lap," He teases, but his voice is softer now.
"Nah—(yawn) m'ok" Your head hits the pillow, eyes struggling to stay open as you bury yourself under the blankets.
"S'late.. jus' stay here tonight..." you mumble, half asleep. There's a sharp, flustered gasp.
“M–Me? Stay? L-Like… in your room? In your… bed?”
"Yes Levi," you pat the empty spot in your bed, cracking your eyes open. He's covering his face with his hands, beet red, and for a moment you genuinely think he might bolt.
“O-Okay, okay, okay, I’m...staying, I’m staying—”
You smile and lift the covers, arms open.
He hesitates one more time, jerking backwards like he wants to run away before launching himself into bed with you, eyes squeeze shut. When he doesn't burst into flames from the contact, he relaxes slowly, tucking his face into your shoulder.
You wrap your arms around him, fingers running soothingly through his hair.
“You’re… really warm,” he mumbled. “Way warmer than my Ruri-chan body pillow.”
He nuzzles closer, voice dropping to a soft whisper meant only for you.
“…I like staying here. With you. Like... a lot.”
"Then.. I guess we'll have to have sleepovers more often," you murmur softly, and you can feel the delighted noise he makes, smiling against your skin.
You fall asleep together, sleeping and snuggling until late afternoon like the two exhausted gamers you are.
The End (for now...)
I poured my heart and soul into Mammon's section ;-; I also spent way too long on Lucifer's section, I hope the Luci lovers appreciate (and somehow Levi's section is the longest???)
the other parts/pairings will be out soon, so make sure to follow or check back if you're waiting for a special demon. Also a Christmas special will be coming soon because I cant like anything normally...
He blushed, immediately turning down his brightness as he read the message. You really needed a filter.
And yet in seconds he was raising his hand, adjusting his pants to hide his already growing hard-on to make his way to the bathroom.
When he got to the singular occupant restroom—one he knew the way to by now with how many times you’d dragged him in there—he didn’t even have to knock before you were opening the door and dragging him in.
Once you got your hands on him you didn’t waste any time, tugging down his pants and shoving him onto the closed toilet to seat yourself on his lap. You lifted your knees to hover yourself over his cock, letting yourself drop and sinking down on him in one swift swoop.
He could only sit there and take it, letting you bounce on him like a toy and watching in awe at the way your hole swallowed him whole.
“ngh—m/c, fuck, so good,” he whined,
“oh fuckkkk—I- I can’t..”
“w-wait, shit! slow down—“
Apparently one orgasm wasn’t enough for you, forcing him into overstimulation when you don’t even bother to give him a breather between rounds because you know he can take it.
One location also wasn’t enough for you; you were willing to use him anywhere and everywhere.
Like at a restaurant when you decide you’re hungry for something else and climb under the table — having him shaking, sweating, clutching at the surface for dear life as you deep-throat his cock under it — your body just barely hidden by the tablecloth.
You swallow him up like it’s your life’s mission to make him cum, all while he’s dragging a hand over his mouth to conceal his noises and he’s blushing from his cheeks all the way to the top of his ears.
Or in his room while he’s gaming, ordering him to bend you over his desk while you play for him, pressing all the wrong keys as your mind goes dumb at the feeling of his cock slamming into you.
In the change room at the beach, acting like you didn’t cause the tent in his trunks before pulling your swimsuit bottoms to the side and sinking down on him on the bench.
In his bathtub, waking him up in the dead of the night with a whine and that look you knew he couldn’t not give in to. He simply turned over so he was on his back, letting out sleepy whimpers as you rocked your hips with his length buried to the hilt inside you.
Or in your own bed, a late-night cuddle session turning into you telling him you want his cock but are too tired to move, so of course he’s pulling your back to his chest and lifting your leg to slip inside you, fucking into you so hard and deep that it has you seeing stars.
a/n: this is so lazy but it’s been like 2 weeks since I last posted so I need to give you guys something 💔 hope everyone’s doing well, I’ll try to post more soon! <3
With a fem!MC that is attracted to their demon forms
Characters: Lucifer, Mammon and Leviathan (x reader, separately)
Setting: friends with feelings. Everyone is horny
Part 1 (context fic) , Part 3 (younger 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, mention of control as seduction, fighting others to impress you, a tiny bit of sexual harrasment, violence works on MC and she is a bit turned on by blood, Levi has a tail and will not hesitate to use it
A/N: THERE WILL BE ANOTHER PART WITH THE YOUNGER BROTHERS
.
The brothers keep learning new things about you, but this fact has to be their favourite one so far.
Ever since they accidentally discovered what you really thought about their demonic features, almost none of them has given you a moment of peace. From faint touches when they walk past you to secure grips around your back when they go in for a hug or hiding their faces in the crook of your neck when you cuddle during movie nights, all they do now is make you painfully aware of their presence.
And, had it been any other situation, you would’ve said you preferred the way life used to be before: back when all they needed to make you feel at peace was their company and a welcoming house to come back to at the end of the day; but thing is… you kinda enjoy how things are working at the moment.
Despite your friendship now balancing on the line between platonic trust and flirty uncertainty, there is an expectation in the air that keeps your body buzzing whenever any of them are near.
The whole House of Lamentation feels like its protecting itself against a potential explosion inside its walls, different from all the floods and brutal fights it’s already suffered.
Even the crows from the cemetery aren’t moving, waiting for something to happen and finally burst the bubble.
They’re teasing you, you know that, but they’re also testing the waters. They’re trying to figure out how far they can get with you before you break and either shut them off or bring them closer; entering your personal space more than a normal friend would without fully touching you or committing to their actions.
It’s infuriating, and stimulating, and it makes you wake up every day with your blood on fire and a bounce in your gait.
It also makes you pay attention to every single detail in their demeanour.
It’s obvious that, beyond the obvious gravitational pull between your bodies, they’re also trying to use what truly makes them demons to their advantage. Their animalistic instincts, their primitive needs, their sins. Preening themselves around you, going as far as to grab your chin to focus your attention solely on them; standing right behind you whenever you’re talking to one of your classmates, close enough to feel their steady heartbeats under their quiet breathing (your poor friend never tried to talk to you in private again); and even dragging you out of the cafeteria to have an intimate lunch in the school’s gardens.
It’s nothing necessarily romantic, nor sexual, but it is possessive and incriminating. They’re setting things clear: they’re claiming the attraction between you.
Lucifer, who finds you waiting under a colonnade during the pouring rain, offers to shelter you with his wings, ever the gentleman (hydrophobic feathers are rather convenient). He smiles when you accept, hiding a sultry expression behind lowered eyelids and courteous words, and drops the set of wings closest to you until the soft ends are caressing the top of your head.
If you think his touch is gentle, you’re wrong. You can’t even take two steps before his other set of wings blocks your way and engulfs you in black silk and thin tendrils of light. You look up, frowning without any real complain, but nothing comes out of your mouth. His hair is wet, glued to his forehead, and the red in his eyes contrast nicely against his pale skin. He is taking his sweet time studying every feature in your face, but it isn’t until thunder startles you and you collide with his wing when you try and take a step back that you realize what’s happening.
He’s protecting you from the rain and the cold, yes, but he’s also caging you with him, keeping you close in his own conditions. There’s a hint of ownership in the way he holds your elbows and makes you place your hands on his chest, and in the curl his wings form around your body.
You’re under his control, and he wants you to know that.
Mammon isn’t one for violence, but he’ll teach anyone a lesson anytime of the day if that means he can get your attention. You’re minding your business and some guy talked shit to you? Guess who’s in his face sizing him up for a brawl. There’s a girl from RAD who pushed you out of the way after the bell rang? She won’t even look at you in the eye anymore. One of the customers at Hell’s Kitchen is trying to eat you? They won’t be able to eat solids after he’s done with them.
And when one of the patrons at the casino tries to feel up your skirt when you’re leaning over the roulette wheel?
He won’t let you see anything, in the sense that he’s too fast for your human eyes to process what’s happening, but you can hear the thump of a body colliding against the table with brutal force and the sickening crunch of bones breaking in response. One moment, there is someone beside you, and the next, they’re trembling at your feet, moaning in pain and mumbling incoherencies.
You know something is seriously wrong with you, when, instead of feeling nausea at the sight of blood and misplaced limbs, you get giddy with excitement and expectation.
Mammon is standing right in front of you, forever beautiful in his demon form. His white markings point down, directly where his belt rests low on his hips, and you wish you could trace it with your fingers. You wish you could undo the belts around his ribs, too, and feel the beating of his heart amidst the violence. Pull him towards you by his high collar, right next to that trembling body that’s rapidly losing consciousness.
You get distracted from your own filth only when his wings start shaking from contained energy, making drops of blood fall off the boney spikes.
He has never let you touch those spikes, endearingly calling you weird for trying, but the only thing you’re thinking about right now is how your tongue would feel if you licked their length. Would they puncture? Would they slit?
Judging by his open-wide eyes and his laboured breath, you can tell he wants to let you figure that out too.
You would never expect anything over the top from sweet Leviathan. He has always preferred to explore your friendship in private moments: in the inside jokes only you two understand and in the genuine vulnerability that blooms when you are alone. Besides, he doesn’t think he deserves your recognition and your appreciative eyes more than any of his brothers do to begin with, so of course he would wait until he had you in his room to take a chance on his advances.
You’re both playing Devil Kart on the floor, sharing a blanket and using pillows to cushion your heads, when you notice something slender slithering towards you under the covers. Your body tenses on instinct, thinking he got another snake and didn’t tell you, and he does the exact same; the unknown tendril stops in its tracks, his face turns pink, and understanding fills you. It takes a quick glance out of the corner of your eye to figure out he’s in his demon form, but it’s easy to relax again and slide down as a sign of surrender, hoping he gets the hint.
Not smiling once his tail resumes its path it’s almost impossible.
It starts by grabbing your ankle (and it almost feels innocent, like those times you hold each other’s hands when there’s a crowd), but it doesn’t take too long until it’s sliding up your leg, letting your skin get used to the smoothness of his scales. They’re slightly cold and humid, but not wet. It clashes nicely against the warmth radiating from your body, and you get goosebumps when you notice the tip sneaking under the hem of your shorts, as if asking for permission.
The race in the TV abruptly comes to an end. You’re 12th. He’s 9th. It’s an obvious stain in his record, but, judging by his feverish look, he doesn’t care about the game at all.
“Can you control the whole length?” you ask in a trivial manner, like you’re just being curious about another part of his body.
“Yeah” he chokes out. His voice is quiet, but not weak, and it sets you on fire.
Before you open your mouth again, his tail withdraws and travels downwards, closing around your ankle securely. He tugs you towards him, hesitantly, and your legs open ever so slightly.
pairings: the brothers/Reader, Diavolo/Reader, Solomon/Reader (can be interpreted as platonic or romantic)
summary: You’re sorting through paperwork with Lucifer when you accidentally slide your fingertip against the corner of a page. “Ow,” you say instinctually, more out of reflex than genuine pain.
“Are you alright?” Lucifer asks, looking up from his papers for the first time since you started this task.
“Oh, yeah,” you wave his concern off. “Just got a paper cut.”
“A paper cut,” Lucifer repeats with bemusement and skepticism. “You got hurt by a piece of paper,” he says incredulously.
The demon brothers learn a valuable lesson as they grow to include you in their lives: humans are very strange.
word count: 3.3k | ao3 version
warnings: mentions of sickness, medical care, injury.
I know demons are virtually the same as humans canonically, but I’ve always wanted to explore the brothers’ reactions to human things MC does, whether it’s a sneeze or a bruise or getting sick… And, well, here we are.
This won’t be canon compliant. This is set to take place sometime after Episode 15 and all seven brothers are included. The reader’s race and gender are ambiguous; no pronouns or physical descriptors are used**. There’s one bit where they’re stated to wear glasses & another where they had braces and currently wear retainers. But I feel like that’s a pretty easy thing to imagine, so… yeah!
**The reader is referred to with it/its pronouns once in Belphegor's snippet—skip reading it if it bothers you. i use these pronouns so i wrote that mostly for me 🤘
“Darling, what is that ghastly thing?” Asmodeus asks, breaking you out of your thoughts.
“What thing?” you frown. The two of you are sitting in his bedroom, sprawled across his bed as you talk about stupid things. Asmodeus had been ranting about something when his eyes locked on something near you with startling focus.
“This!” he says, pointing at your forearm.
You follow his gaze, finding a spot of slightly discolored skin halfway down your arm. “Oh,” you say, “It’s just a bruise.”
“A bruise?” Asmodeus repeats, his nose scrunched in confusion.
“You know, a bruise,” you repeat. There’s nothing close to comprehension on his face. “...A contusion or whatever?” …Still nothing.
“I’ve never heard of such a thing,” the demon frowns. “And wow, is it unsightly.” Asmodeus remarks, disgust passing over his face before intrigue takes over it. He leans over you, before proceeding to poke at your skin curiously.
“Ow, Asmo—” you hiss, batting his hand away. You don’t put much strength behind the gesture, but Asmodeus goes along with it anyway and removes his hand.
“It hurts?” he then blinks owlishly.
“Yes,” you say, letting your arm fall back to your side.
Asmodeus shakes his head in disbelief. “Humans are so weird.”
It’s late at night and you need to refill your glass of water. You’re tiredly walking out to the kitchen when a sudden noise breaks through the silence.
“Hey.”
You inhale sharply, fear coursing through you until you recognize the familiar voice. “Holy shit, Beel,” you murmur, placing your hand on your chest momentarily and squinting through the darkness. You can only see the general outline of his form. “You scared me.”
“Sorry,” Beelzebub says. You think he must be frowning now. Again, it’s difficult to tell. “I thought you saw me.”
“Um…” you squint again. “No.”
“Oops,” he says. You hear a light shuffling sound. “Can you see me now?” he asks.
You blink again. “Sort of.”
Suddenly he’s standing right in front of you. You can’t suppress a flinch this time, instinctually leaning backwards.
“Beel, stop that—!” you exclaim, nearly stumbling over yourself.
He sets you straight with a hand on your shoulder, a frown rising on his face. “You can’t see in the dark, then?” Beelzebub hums.
“No,” you sigh. It’s as if he didn’t believe you—like he had to test it for himself to make sure.
“Hmph,” Beelzebub frowns again. Or, at least, it sounds like he’s frowning. “That’s inconvenient.”
“I guess,” you concede.
“What’s wrong with your skin?” Belphegor asks you one morning, when the two of you are relaxing in his room.
“Hm?” you blink, momentarily distracted from looking down at your D.D.D.
“Your skin,” he restates. “Look,” he demands, pointing down at your forearm. You follow the demon’s gaze, only to find goosebumps scattered across your skin.
“Oh, those are just goosebumps,” you answer casually.
“Goose… bumps,” Belphegor repeats, his nose scrunched in evident revulsion.
“Yeah,” you nod. “I’m not sure why they’re called that, but they show up on your skin if you get too cold.”
“Well, stop being cold,” Belphegor orders, as if you’re inconveniencing him. He probably thinks you are, although it’s entirely out of your control. You hardly have a chance to react before you’re promptly pelted in the face with a sweatshirt. “Here.”
“Oof,” you say, peeling it off the crown of your head and putting it on. “Thanks, Belphie.”
“Shut up,” he murmurs. There’s a hint of pink rising on the back of his neck, as if he’s embarrassed. “Stupid human. Can’t even keep itself warm.” He huffs. You valiantly ignore the remark.
“Why are there teeth in the bathroom?” Levi asks as he enters the room. And wow, what a way to make an entrance. Satan and you look over at Levi from where you’d been reading.
“What?” Satan blinks questioningly, clearly just as confused as you are.
“Teeth,” Levi repeats himself, “in the bathroom.”
How he expects the same exact remark to make more sense, you have no idea. It takes you a few moments to connect the dots, but you do eventually. “Oh!” you exclaim. “Those are just my retainers.”
“Your retainers,” Satan repeats. There’s a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “And what do they retain, exactly?” he asks sardonically. You scoff.
“My teeth,” you respond. “Obviously,” you add, if only to combat his sarcasm.
“So… what do you do with them?” Levi asks curiously, tilting his head as he looks at you.
“I wear them every night when I sleep,” you explain. “They’re supposed to prevent my teeth from shifting.”
“Your teeth shift?” Satan exclaims incredulously. “You mean they can move?”
“Um— yes,” you respond. “Human teeth always move, even after a person has braces.”
“What are braces?” Levi demands.
“They’re metal brackets that an orthodontist puts on your teeth when they’re crooked. They guide the teeth into a more neat shape.”
“I’m convinced you just made that up,” Satan says helpfully.
You roll your eyes. “I had braces. But since my teeth can still move, I have to wear the retainers.”
“For how long?” Levi blinks.
“The rest of my life.”
Satan whistles. “That sucks.”
You shrug amicably.
“And I thought normies were weird,” Levi huffs. “But humans are even weirder.”
“Hey, wait: how’d you even see my retainers in the first place?” you realize aloud. “I always keep them in a case… in a drawer.” You wouldn’t just leave them on the counter—that would be pretty unsanitary.
As if caught in a lie, Levi freezes and quickly bolts away. “Gotta go shower, bye—!” he says, slamming the bathroom door shut with more force than necessary.
You stare after him in disbelief, an incredulous laugh bubbling up from your throat.
“He was just curious,” Satan explains with a shrug. “Not that I blame him. Do your teeth truly keep growing?”
“Not growing, necessarily,” you contemplate. “Babies are born with baby teeth. Then, as you get older, you lose your baby teeth as your adult teeth grow in.”
“That’s similar to demons,” Satan confirms.
“Our teeth eventually stop growing, but they can shift and move still,” you clarify.
Satan shakes his head in annoyed disbelief. “Humans are truly an anomaly.”
You’re sorting through paperwork with Lucifer when you accidentally slide your fingertip against the corner of a page. “Ow,” you say instinctually, more out of reflex than genuine pain.
“Are you alright?” Lucifer asks, looking up from his papers for the first time since you started this task.
“Oh, yeah,” you wave his concern off. “Just got a paper cut.” You squint down at your finger and grit your teeth in annoyance. You’re so concentrated that you don’t know Lucifer’s pensive silence or furrowed brows.
“A….. paper cut,” he restates, a mix of bemusement and concern in his voice.
“You don’t get those?” you ask.
“You got hurt by a piece of paper,” Lucifer says incredulously. Suddenly he’s getting to his feet and striding over to you, taking your hand in his and investigating your fingertip. “Hm. You weren’t joking. How strange.”
He continues to study your skin with a frightening intensity. Your hand is almost shaking in his grip, as you attempt to fight off your restlessness at his proximity. Eventually Lucifer sighs and lets his grip fall away. “Does it hurt?”
“Yeah,” you admit. “Paper cuts are just a minor inconvenience… But for whatever reason, they can really hurt sometimes. Feels like your skin is splitting apart.” They really shouldn’t hurt, but they do. One time, you had one that spanned your entire fingertip. This one doesn’t look nearly as bad, fortunately. But it still burns.
“You’re rather breakable,” the Avatar of Pride notes.
“It’s just a paper cut,” you feel the need to say defensively.
“Of course,” Lucifer responds, an indulgent and amused smile on his face. There’s a knowing smirk on his face and you roll your eyes, abandoning the argument.
Solomon and you often get stuck accompanying one another to the human realm whenever you need anything. The demon realm is great, but it doesn’t have everything humans need. Besides, sometimes it’s nice to breathe in some fresh air or be among other humans.
Today’s visit has a purpose, though. After a rather unfortunate incident involving Mammon, you, and a chandelier, you find yourself with broken glasses. (Thanks, Mammon.) It’s been roughly a year since you’ve had an eye exam, so it’s about time for another appointment anyways. Unfortunately, the Devildom doesn’t have eye doctors (and you still remember the perplexed look on Levi’s face when you casually asked him one day). That’s how you find yourself in your ophthalmologist’s office in the human realm. Solomon dropped you off with the promise that he’d return the moment you texted, leaving you to slowly waste away in the waiting room.
Fortunately, your name is finally called and you’re able to undergo all of the various examinations. You emerge an hour later with dilated pupils, an updated prescription, and reassurance from the doctor that nothing is amiss. You manage to text Solomon—through slightly blurred vision—and he arrives within five minutes.
You can only hope to slip into the manor unnoticed. But from the very moment you slip through the front doors, Mammon is bounding up to you like an overexcited puppy. He seems moments away from looping an arm around you and dragging you off into some misguided adventure when he locks eyes with you and freezes.
“Whoa, what the hell—?” Mammon exclaims, staring at you intently. “Oi, human, don’t tell me ya got possessed—!” His hands clamp on your shoulders and he starts shaking you roughly.
“Mammon, stop it,” you object, grabbing onto his shoulders and attempting to prevent him from shaking you any harder. He calms down a little, but he still looks confused. “I’m not possessed. I just had an appointment with an eye doctor.”
“Well, how’d they screw up so bad then, huh?” he spits. In another situation, his concern would be touching; but now, it’s mostly just amusing. “Ya look like a shark!”
“It’s just one of the tests,” you explain. “They had to dilate my pupils.”
“Humans are crazy,” Mammon asserts. He’s studying you from far too close—occasionally changing his angle as if it will somehow give him new insight. “You look so freaky.”
“Thanks, Mammon,” you sigh.
“Does it hurt?” he asks. “I bet it does; yer such a baby.” The insult seems to be a cover-up for his concern.
“It doesn’t really hurt,” you reassure him. “It just feels a little strange. The drops really just affect your vision. I can’t focus on things in front of me, and it sort of looks like I’m seeing double.”
“Well, there’s nothing for it but resting your eyes,” Mammon sighs theatrically, looping an arm around your shoulders. “Let’s watch the next episode of Destroyman.”
“How is that supposed to help my eyes?” you ask skeptically.
“Hey, I’ve been waiting for ya all day!” Mammon exclaims. “We’re watching the next episode, even if it looks all blurry to you.” The demon is soon yanking you along before you can object.
“There’s the culprit,” Belphegor remarks, looking up at you as you enter the dining room for breakfast. The brothers are staring at you intently.
“Good morning to you too,” you huff, shoving your hands in the pockets of your uniform and taking the empty seat at the table. It’s a bit unusual to see all seven brothers at the table like this, especially so early in the morning. “What’d I do?” you blink cluelessly.
“You don’t remember?” Beel pipes up, blinking at you curiously. He seems to be mid-bite, with some food hanging out of his mouth. Lucifer chides him for table manners and Beel huffs, promptly demolishing the rest of his food.
“You were roaming the halls in the middle of the night like a ghost!” Mammon explains before anyone else can. He sounds particularly energetic this morning. “It was freaky.”
Roaming the halls at night? You don’t remember doing that, which can only mean one thing. “Oh, I was probably just sleepwalking,” you realize aloud.
“Wonders truly never cease,” Lucifer says dryly. “Just how many eccentricities do humans possess?” he muses.
You sigh, remembering all of the strange interactions you’ve had over the past few weeks. “I’m not choosing to do any of this, you know,” you frown. “I can’t control it.” It’s not like you wanted to get a paper cut, or a bruise, or goosebumps. These are just facts of life.
“We know, dear,” Asmo reassures you.
“It’s okay,” Levi says, barely sparing you a glance as he stares down at his plate. “None of these human behaviors are super annoying.” That’s very meaningful coming from Levi of all demons.
“They’re just weird,” Satan supplies helpfully. You roll your eyes at him.
“It seems my brothers were just… worried,” Lucifer explains.
“Hey, you were worried too!” Mammon objects. “You were the one to—” Whatever the Avatar of Greed means to say next promptly fades into obscurity, as Lucifer sends his younger brother a murderous glare to silence him.
“Okay,” you eventually remark, uncomfortable with the sudden tension settling in the room. “Well, sorry to disturb you guys, I guess. Sleepwalking is normal for humans, though.”
“I’m starting to think nothing about humans is normal,” Satan mutters under his breath. Lucifer nods in agreement. You just roll your eyes and pretend not to hear the remark, serving yourself some food and beginning to eat breakfast. Despite the fanfare, it’s nice to know the brothers care about you—even if they don’t show it in very orthodox ways.
“Oh,” a familiar voice says one afternoon. You blink blearily, your dizzy vision momentarily clarifying to reveal Diavolo standing over you. You’re crumpled on the floor, your cheek pressed to the cold hardwood as sweat rolls down the nape of your neck. “I must say, when I heard of your absence, I assumed you ditched classes for the day.”
It’s difficult for you to process what he’s saying; his voice sounds warped. The headmaster just hums. “Are you… all right?” he asks. You can barely manage a weak nod. Diavolo sighs. “Forgive me for the foolish question. You’re clearly not all right. Here, let’s get you up…”
You hardly have the chance to object before the demon is lifting you into his arms as if you weigh nothing at all. He sets you on your bed with deceptive gentleness, before staring at you and frowning.
“I don’t suppose you know what’s happening to you,” Diavolo says.
“I think I’m sick,” you manage to respond. Your voice sounds a little raspy and your airways feel a bit tight. You clear your throat, wincing at the dryness the gesture provokes. You must have a fever, because your body temperature keeps oscillating between frigid cold and searing warmth. Before you can think better of it, you blink dazedly and reach out to grab Diavolo’s hand. “Tell me if I feel warm.”
He’s clearly a bit confused, but he allows you to guide his hand to your temple.
“You’re hot,” he observes after a moment.
“Thanks,” you huff deliriously.
“Your temperature,” he clarifies with a knowing smile, shaking his head. “What does this mean?” Diavolo frowns.
“I have a fever,” you answer. “When a human’s body temperature is too high, it causes sickness.”
“What can be done about it?” he continues.
“Depends,” you reply. “Sometimes it breaks on its own; sometimes you need antibiotics.”
“Antibiotics,” Diavolo repeats, the concept clearly foreign to him. “I can’t say I’m familiar. But it’s clear that you should rest. I’ll watch over you.” Whatever else he says is lost on you, as you close your eyes and surrender to the persistent fatigue burning your eyelids.
You wake several hours later to a room devoid of Diavolo. You’re not exactly surprised that he had to leave—he’s the ruler of the Devildom, after all. He surely has far more important things to do than look after you. You blink away traces of sleep as you look around the room, your vision clarifying to reveal Solomon sitting in the armchair in the corner of the room. You blink at him silently.
“Oh, you’re awake,” Solomon says. “How are you feeling?”
“…Fine,” you admit, touching your temple experimentally. Your headache has subsided a little, but your skin still feels a bit warm. At your movement, Solomon pushes himself to his feet and feels your forehead.
“Your temperature’s coming down, finally,” he hums.
“What are you doing here?” you finally manage to ask.
“Diavolo summoned me,” Solomon explains. “Supposedly, he attempted to enlist the help of the brothers, but they proved to be rather useless. They are… woefully uninformed when it comes to humans, after all.”
That’s true. “Thanks,” you remember to say. He didn’t have to come, after all. Just because he’s the only other human, doesn’t mean he’s relegated to nursing you back to health.
“No problem,” Solomon nods sincerely. He doesn’t seem too bothered by the whole arrangement. “It’s nice not to be the only human. Although, I expect around the clock service and care the next time I fall ill.”
You smile tiredly. “Of course,” you agree. It’s a frighteningly easy promise to make.
After your sickness, you notice that the brothers begin to ease up on you a bit. Mammon’s no longer texting you in the middle of the night, demanding that you entertain him; Lucifer doesn’t mind if you occasionally take a day to complete your work remotely at the mansion; Asmo’s physical affection is gentler than normal; Levi doesn’t tease you about being a normie as much; Beelzebub doesn’t ever touch your plate or food; hell, even Belphegor is behaving himself—no longer interfering with your naps or sleep.
One afternoon, Lucifer approaches you in the living room. He greets you before settling on the couch next to you, his posture rigid and proper. “You may have noticed that my brothers…” Lucifer starts, before pausing and shaking his head, “...that we have been acting a bit different than normal.” You nod.
“In the past few weeks—especially in light of your bout of sickness—we realized that we’ve been neglecting you and your health. A demon’s stamina is much stronger than a human’s—we need less sleep; food is more of a luxury than a necessity; our bodies are more resistant to injury… You understand.”
“What I mean to say is…” Lucifer trails off again, an uncharacteristic sign of hesitation from him. He takes a slow breath. “I apologize for the oversight.”
“It’s okay,” you reassure him.
“It is not,” Lucifer states firmly. “We have neglected to consider just how difficult this transition must be for you. We—I—didn’t think to ensure your health and safety were priorities.”
“But no more. I’ve spoken to Diavolo and Solomon at length, in addition to doing some elective research, to ensure we are not so unprepared in the future. And, should your accommodations be unsuitable—should anything here be unsuitable—I want you to inform me at once.”
That… sounds a lot more serious than what you were expecting. You blink. “That’s— That’s really not necessary,” you try to say.
“It wasn’t a request,” Lucifer interjects smoothly. It’s a firm but well-meaning statement. “Do you understand?”
You swallow. “Yes.”
“Good.” There’s a hint of a smile on his lips now. “Truthfully, my brothers were very worried for you.” Lucifer pauses for a moment. “I was very worried for you,” he admits.
You’re sure you look surprised now. Lucifer only laughs, before getting to his feet and placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. You can almost convince yourself that the look in his eyes is unbearably fond. But he’s soon withdrawing, leaving you to wonder if you imagined the entire interaction.
Obey Me! Brothers x reader: Free use, pt. 1 (Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan)
Tags; Gender neutral user, free use kink, public sex, minor dom/sub, oral (M receiving), Mammon and Leviathan are pathetic losers and I love them <3
𝔏𝔲𝔠𝔦𝔣𝔢𝔯
It's not uncommon for Lucifer to become overwhelmed by his work—it’s stressful, balancing RAD, his brothers, the mountain of paperwork that seems so neverending, and the man so keen on assigning it to him. Some days he's so engrossed that time slips away- forgetting to eat, to drink, to so much as stand up for a moment so his aching muscles can be given a break. It's those days that he turns to you.
Lucifer will pull you into his office without warning—no matter your task, who you're talking to, or where you were; whether it be with a strong hand or a simple spell, you'll find yourself there in his lap. He has no preference at that point for how you take his cock, only desiring to be buried deep inside the heat of your body while he mulls over documents.
You’d be tempted to think he doesn’t even notice your weight, mouth or body stretched around his shaft, if it wasn’t for the slack in his muscles—and the deep grinding of skin to skin while he forces himself deeper. You won’t get the satisfaction of movement until he decides he’s finally reached a point where he can take a break, shifting his glasses down and his pen to the side so he can fuck you like he really wanted.
𝕄𝕒𝕞𝕞𝕠𝕟
Mammon is possessive, that’s well known—what’s also known is the way he uses you as his own personal good luck charm, swearing that he wins big more often when you’re there at his side, his pretty human all dressed to the nines. More often than not, his winning streak will be accompanied by a familiar face under the table, stuttering moans breaking up bids while your tongue laves over the head of his cock.
No other demon dares mention it. Mammon may be the known punching bag of his brothers, but he is still an avatar—the second most powerful at that. Anyone who stares too long at the display will be killed painfully, and the way they desperately try to avoid making eye contact while keeping the money rolling gives Mammon a thrill like nothing else. You’re his treasure, no one else gets to see how gorgeous you look with a cock in your mouth.
You know it’s time to go home when he stops being able to properly call out bids, slumped against the blackjack table with his legs shaking. Cum slicks your throat, dripping down the sides of your mouth and over Mammon’s thighs by the end of the night; so blissed out he can’t do much other than grin like an idiot at his perfect love. It doesn’t hurt that he’s a million grim richer.
ᒪEᐯIᗩTᕼᗩᑎ
Levi was too shy to take up your offer initially. While his brothers were taking you around the House of Lamentation, leaving the smell of sex and demon pheromones for anyone to find, he was desperately, angrily pumping his fist in the dark of his room; cursing himself for not being able to take the step. In the end, you need to give him a little push—cosplaying as his favorite hentai character. It was a ridiculous getup, tight and revealing in all the wrong places; but it was worth it when Levi found you in his room, taking on the sexiest pose you could in something that didn’t allow proper blood circulation.
He was hard before you could even speak, the night spent tangled together on any surface flat enough to mount you against. Mercifully, he ripped the skimpy clothes apart soon after getting his hands on you, more needy to rut his cocks on soft skin than to admire your hard work. After that, Levi was a bit more open minded—though he still refuses to be as public as the others.
You often find yourself bent over his gaming desk or bouncing in his lap after a particularly good—or particularly bad—gaming session, the adrenaline running high enough for the otaku to tug you aside with little concern. And, like his older brothers, Levi loves it when you sit between his legs, kissing at his cocks until he’s a whimpering mess; trying to focus on the 4-hour campaign he promised his team he’d carry.
I have a headcanons scenario the brothers and the side characters pinching MC's cheeks to see their reaction when they're staring off into space, asleep, or just studying and MC doesn't notice them.
── ⋆⋅☆ OBEY ME - CHEEK PINCHING
── ⋆⋅☆ AUTHORS NOTE - Went through A LOT of voice lines from the game to try and make these guys as in-character as possible. Realized I know nothing about Mephistopheles or Raphael, so I didn't write about them.
── ⋆⋅☆ LUCIFER
Lucifer notices immediately when you get distracted.
He pretends he doesn’t, of course. He keeps his arms crossed, keeps that perfect posture, but he’s watching you like a hawk the second your attention drifts.
You’ll be sitting in his office, supposedly helping with paperwork or discussing something important, and then… your focus just floats away? Hello?
Maybe it’s a shiny object, maybe it’s a silly thought, maybe it’s nothing at all.
Your eyes glaze a little, your head tilts, and you’re gone.
Lucifer takes one look at you and just… melts internally. :/
He will NEVER admit that.
But the fondness hits him so hard he has to look away for a second.
He calls your name once. Doesn’t work.
Calls it again, slightly sharper. Still nothing.
At this point, he’s smiling, not visibly, no, but the corners of his mouth are absolutely betraying him.
So he walks over, tilts his head a bit, and leans down.
Then he just pinches your cheek.
“There you are,” he says, sounding far too satisfied for someone who just manhandled your face.
You react, flustered or startled or pouty, and that only makes it worse.
He pinches again, softer this time, because apparently he has discovered his new favourite toy. Your easily distracted expression.
You ask why he did that, and he raises an eyebrow like it should be obvious.
“You weren’t listening.”
He means, 'You were adorable, and I needed you to look at me right now.'
── ⋆⋅☆ MAMMON
Mammon notices when you get distracted faster than he notices sale signs.
Which is saying something.
You’ll be talking to him. Or, well, he’ll be talking and bragging, and then suddenly your focus just… drifts.
Your eyes go off somewhere, you stop responding, and your brain has clearly unplugged itself from the room.
Mammon freezes. Not because he’s offended.
It's because your “I have no thoughts in my head right now” face is the cutest thing he’s ever seen, and he has to physically hold onto something to keep from combusting.
He tries calling your name.
His voice gets progressively louder and more desperate. “Yo! Human!! Helloooo?! Are ya even listenin’?! Hey!! Earth to... c’mon!!”
You don’t snap out of it, and Mammon is suffering.
So, naturally, he panics and goes for the most Mammon solution possible. He walks right up to you and pinches your cheek.
Not gentle. Not delicate. A full “I’m tryna reboot your brain like a malfunctioning vending machine” pinch.
You jolt back to reality like someone unplugged and replugged you.
Mammon immediately goes bright red. “W-WHAT?! Ya weren’t listenin’! I had to get ya back somehow!! Don’t give me that look!!” (⸝⸝•̀⸝⸝•́⸝⸝)
Meanwhile he’s staring at you with the dorkiest smile he’s desperately trying to hide, because your confused little face is killing him.
── ⋆⋅☆ LEVIATHAN
Levi tries so hard to pretend he doesn’t care that you’re not paying attention to him. Spoiler: he cares. A lot.
Inside? He is wilting like a neglected houseplant. (•́ ᴖ •̀)
You’re NOT looking at him, and he is fighting for his life.
Eventually, he scoots closer. Like… a pixel at a time.
He leans over your shoulder to see what has you so focused, and then it hits him: you look cute.
Like dangerously cute, Concentration-face cute.
He goes red IMMEDIATELY.
His brain: Error. Buff overflow. Abort. His body apparently decides to act on its own, though.
And he just— PINCHES YOUR CHEEK?!
Gently. Tentatively. Like he’s afraid you’ll crash if he clicks the wrong spot.
The SECOND he realizes what he just did, he jerks his hand back like you burned him.
“I—I wasn’t trying to get your attention or anything!! I just— I mean— You— AUGH—” (⸝⸝๑ ﹏ ๑⸝⸝⸝)
But now you’re looking at him. Mission accidentally successful.
Levi is internally punching the air because YES, he has your attention, but also NO because he cannot survive this level of eye contact.
Will spend the next 24 hours ranting to himself in his bathtub about how he “totally didn’t do that because you were cute” while replaying the moment.
── ⋆⋅☆ SATAN
Satan notices you getting distracted before you even realize it’s happening.
One second you’re talking to him, and the next you’re staring off at… a speck of dust?
Doesn’t matter, he thinks it’s adorable.
He watches you for a moment, trying to pretend he’s not completely endeared.
Like, he’ll even put a hand under his chin and act like he’s contemplating deep philosophy, but really he’s just thinking, “Why are they so cute when they’re spaced out?” (╭ರ_•́)
At first, he tries calling your name. Calmly. Softly. Very gentlemanly.
And that’s when he decides to escalate.
He leans forward with the smooth confidence of someone who thinks he’s immune to embarrassment (he isn’t).
Then he reaches out and pinches your cheek.
Not hard — just enough to get your attention.
The moment you snap out of it and look at him, he gives you this tiny, smug smile like he’s so proud of himself for 'bringing you back to reality.'”'
“You drifted off,” he says, like he didn’t just reach over and grab your face like you’re a cat he wants to squish.
He claims he only did it because you weren’t listening.
Lies.
── ⋆⋅☆ ASMODEUS
You're hanging out in his room again — lucky you!
Asmo’s sitting beside you on his bed, filing his nails and telling you all about a disastrous outfit someone wore earlier.
He’s very passionate about it, clearly.
But at some point, you stop responding.
You're staring off at… something. Absolutely entranced, and Asmo just blinks at you like “…hello?”
He leans in a little, “Darling?”
No reaction.
Then he makes the most offended-yet-delighted face, like >:O but sparkly.
And without warning, he reaches over and pinches your cheek gently.
“There you are! Oh my goodness, what has you so focused that you forget about me?”
You blink at him, startled and cute, and he actually gasps — dramatically of course — “Aww! That face! Do it again~!”
He scoots closer until he’s basically draped across your lap, batting his lashes. “I swear, when you zone out like that, it’s adorable enough to be illegal.”
And yes, he absolutely plays with your cheek again just because he can.
Later, he’ll flop onto his bed alone, kick his feet, and mumble to himself, “Their cheeks are so soft… I’m doing that again next time.”
── ⋆⋅☆ BEELZEBUB
You’re sitting with Beel in the living room, the two of you sharing snacks… well, you’re sharing snacks. Beel’s inhaling them like oxygen.
He’s talking about this new protein bar he found that “tastes kind of like mango but also like regret,” and you’re nodding along until.
Oh? There you go again.
Totally zoned out. Staring at absolutely nothing. Your snack halfway to your mouth like you froze mid-animation.
Beel notices immediately.
At first, he just tilts his head, all soft and confused, like a big, gentle puppy. “…Are you okay?”
No answer.
He leans in closer, brows furrowed with concern. Still nothing.
So he gently reaches out with those giant warm hands of his and pinches your cheek, so light it’s barely even a pinch.
“Hey,” he says with the softest little smile, “You spaced out.”
You blink up at him all dazed and cute, and his expression melts.
You can practically see the way his heart does a little flip.
“That look…” He looks away shyly and smiles to himself. “Um… it’s cute.”
He keeps his hand hovering near your cheek like he’s tempted to do it again, but he’s Beel, so he’s polite about it.
He only gives in when you lean into his hand, he’s like ( ˶o˶˶o˶) !! but also ( ,,◕ ̫ ◕,, )
He offers you the last piece of his snack as a peace offering. (He never gives the last piece. That’s true love.)
Later, he goes to grab another bag of chips and quietly mutters to himself, “I hope they get distracted again… I liked touching their cheek.”
── ⋆⋅☆ BELPHEGOR
You’re in the attic with Belphie... where else would you be?
He’s half-asleep on your shoulder, mumbling something about how the stars look fake tonight and how he “could totally sue” if they keep twinkling that loudly.
You’re listening… until you’re not.
At some point, you drift off into your own little world. It's too cozy not to.
Your eyes get all soft and unfocused, and you’re completely gone.
Belphie opens one eye, peeks at you, and instantly recognizes the look.
He stares for a moment, absolutely fascinated.
You’re quiet. Still. Peaceful. He loves it.
He sighs, dramatic but sleepy, shifts himself closer, and reaches up with one lazy hand to pinch your cheek.
It’s not even a proper pinch, more like a soft, sleepy squish.
“Hey…” he mutters, voice low and satisfied, “don’t go drifting off without me.”
You blink awake, startled and cute, and Belphie just smirks like he’s been waiting for that exact expression.
“There you are,” he murmurs, snuggling back against you like you didn’t just get sneak-attacked by a cheek pinch. “You make the cutest face when you zone out… It’s distracting.”
He says it so casually, like it’s just a fact of nature and not something that’s been making him kick his feet internally.
And when you swat at him?
He grabs your hand, pulls it to his chest, and goes right back to napping on you with the smuggest little smile.
── ⋆⋅☆ DIAVOLO
You’re visiting the castle, which is already a big deal because Diavolo acts like you hung the moon.
He’s giving you a tour, talking excitedly about some upcoming festival and how he wants you to be there.
And then he realizes… You’re not responding.
You’re standing there in the hallway, staring at a stained-glass window like it just told you a life-changing secret.
Diavolo pauses mid-sentence. Smiles.
Sets his hands on his hips like a dad about to lovingly scold a toddler.
“Hello…?”
Nothing.
He steps closer, peeks down at your face with this amused, soft expression like he’s watching a baby animal do something precious.
And then, with the gentlest touch for a man who could crush boulders, he pinches your cheek.
Not hard. Just a light little squeeze to bring you back to the mortal realm.
“There you are!” he laughs, bright and warm. “You drifted off for a moment.”
You blink up at him all surprised and cute and Diavolo’s whole face just softens like he’s experiencing love for the first time.
“That look…” he murmurs, cheeks warming just a little, “I should find ways to see it more often.”
── ⋆⋅☆ BARBATOS
You’re in the castle kitchen with Barbatos, which is already a privilege because he rarely lets anyone near his workspace.
He’s slicing fruit with flawless precision, telling you about a tea blend he’s perfecting.
You’re nodding along, taking in the scent, the warmth, the quiet…
And then your brain just ✨ leaves the building ✨
You stare off at… a teacup. Or maybe a blueberry. Whatever it is, it has absolutely consumed your entire focus.
Barbatos pauses mid-cut, glances over, and gives you this tiny, fond smile.
“Darling…?” he calls gently.
No response.
He sets down the knife, carefully, of course, and steps closer.
He tries again. Still nothing.
And then, without a hint of hesitation, he reaches out and pinches your cheek.
So soft. So quick. So precise. Like he’s done it a thousand times in his mind.
“There you are,” he murmurs with a quiet chuckle, eyes crinkling just a bit. “You seemed… rather absorbed.” (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵)
You blink up at him, startled and cute, and Barbatos looks away for a moment like he needs to reset his entire emotional system.
Then he brushes his thumb over the spot he pinched, barely there, and adds, “It is… charming, seeing you like that.”
── ⋆⋅☆ SIMEON
You’re sitting with Simeon in Purgatory Hall.
He’s writing in his notebook, telling you about a story idea he had while cooking breakfast this morning.
You’re listening… at first.
And then your attention drifts off to something completely random.
A dust particle floating by? A pretty patch of sunlight? Who knows? You’re just gone. :/
Simeon notices immediately, of course, he does.
He looks up from his notebook, his smile soft and impossibly gentle.
“Honey…?” he says, voice warm and lilting.
No response.
He tries again, leaning in a little. Still nothing.
So he lets out a tiny, affectionate laugh and reaches out to pinch your cheek, the gentlest pinch in the entire celestial realm.
“There you are,” he says, his smile melting into something fond enough to make any angel jealous. “You looked so peaceful… I almost didn’t want to interrupt.” ( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ഒ
You blink at him, all wide-eyed and cute, and he actually laughs softly, covering his mouth just a bit because he can’t handle how adorable you look.
“You make the sweetest expression when you’re lost in thought,” he adds, brushing his thumb lightly over your cheek.
Yes. He’s that soft.
── ⋆⋅☆ SOLOMON
You’re in Solomon’s room, which is always a gamble, because there’s a 50/50 chance something in there is sentient.
He’s mixing something in a cauldron (against all common sense), explaining how it’s “definitely safe this time.”
You’re listening… kind of. Until you’re not.
Your eyes drift over to a shiny crystal on his desk. Or maybe you’re just zoning out because the smell of his potion is… suspicious.
Either way, you’ve left your physical form.
Solomon notices immediately, the man has the observational skills of someone who’s survived his own cooking.
He grins. Oh, he lives for this.
“Oh, sweetheart?” he calls sweetly. Like theatrically.
No response.
He steps closer, amused out of his mind. Still nothing.
So, with absolutely zero hesitation, he reaches out and pinches your cheek.
Not roughly, just enough to snap you back to reality.
“There you are,” he chuckles, eyes sparkling like he just discovered a new spell. “You spaced out. Adorably, I might add.” (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵)
You blink at him, startled and cute, and Solomon actually tilts his head like he’s cataloging your expression for future mischief.
He brushes his thumb over your cheek. Soft, playful. And adds,
“I should distract you more often if it means I get to see that look again.”
You know he means it, too.
He’s already plotting 12 different magical excuses to make you zone out.
