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xxshujiswhorexx · 2 months

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Baby Bunny~

(Chapter 1)

Vox x Reader; Valentino x Reader; Alastor x Reader; maybe Lucifer x Reader

After your untimely death, Mr Vox was kind enough to take you in and give you a job as his assistant. However, it appears that you’ve caught the eyes of few other demons, who are certainly not afraid of a little competition…

Frankly, Vox was a stressed out man.

Endless meetings to attend, scripts to review, and catastrophes to clean up; very little could consistently relax the poor man. Luckily, one of these particular vices just happened to be readily available; you.

Oh, how he loved to watch you flit around his offices, big floppy ears twitching with concentration, large brown eyes peering up at him, searching for approval and validation. It almost made him feel guilty, the way you obeyed his every beck and call.

Regardless, your presence had become a somewhat comforting one in his workplace, ever since you had the unfortunate fall from earth following your untimely death. Your loyalty to the overlord only made sense, given his boundless generosity towards you, providing you with a job as his personal assistant, as well as a small flat inside his studio.

Thus, when he discovered that Valentino had decided to send you on an ‘errand’, he was less than pleased. Of course, you with your unbridled kindness and timidity couldn’t even think of refusing such a request, despite the sex maniac holding no legitimate power over you. So, off you went, suddenly feeling rather exposed in your open white blouse and tight leather skirt (a favourite outfit of Mr Vox), as you wandered through Pentagram City, glancing back occasionally at the directions that Mr Valentino had so graciously provided.

All of a sudden, you feel yourself slam into something, or more aptly, someone. Your nose begins to twitch in fear of the consequences, knowing full well the cruelty of the sinner residing in the area. Peering up at the stranger with teary eyes, you mumble an apology, and pull yourself back up on shaky legs.

“Not to worry, my dear! Accidents happen, of course! Although, you really should watch where you are walking, darling.”

The static in his voice, almost tangible, sends shivers down your spine, his glowing eyes intensely staring into your own, as if to bear witness to your very soul.

“How rude of me, I neglected to introduce myself. I’m Alastor, darling, the Radio Demon.”

The man, Alastor, extends a hand to greet you, but the mention of his title causes you to freeze, and flinch away in fear. The demon’s smile strains in reaction, appearing confused and mildly offended.

“T-the Radio Demon? M-Mr Vox said I’m not allowed to speak to you..”

Alastor’s grin tightens at this comment, his snarl baring gums, yet he chooses to feign ignorance.

“My dear, it’s impolite to not return a greeting.”

Due to the mild threat in his tone, you reluctantly tell him your name, your bunny ears twitching in fear, as you look up at him.

“Now, my dear bunny, wherever were you off to on this fine morning?”

“Mr Valentino w-wanted me to s-speak to Angel Dust about his s-supposedly ‘poor work ethic’. S-so, I was h-hoping to find him at the Hazbin Hotel..” you trail off, unsure of how much information you could safely disclose.

But Alastor’s grin only brightens at the news.

“Well, my dear, you’re in luck! I was just about to head over there myself!” With that, he pulls you closer to him, evoking a surprised yelp from you, and wraps his arm tightly around your waist, setting off at a brisk pace.

Alastor hums a jolly tune, seemingly ignorant to your struggles in keeping up with his quick pace, almost being dragged along. Finally, once you had reached your destination, he finally releases you, this time choosing to grab you by your arm. But, for some reason, he chooses to spare a moment, and look you over.

You stood a fair bit shorter than him, having to crane your neck to meet his eyes, but furthermore you were simply trembling with fear. Your nose was twitching, your floppy ears fluttering with anxiety, and your doe eyes refusing to meet his gaze.

You truly were just adorable. Oh, he was going to have fun breaking you.

And with that, he flung open the hotel doors, the action catching you off guard, as you jump again.

“Awfully jumpy today, my dear? Why, is everything alright?” He asks with a condescending grin.

“Just peachy, Mr Alastor.” You manage to mumble out a reply, starting to overcome your fear of the radio demon.

“Now, now, you mustn’t lie, my darling. But, trust me, you have nothing to fear here.” He draws you closer again, his clawed hand playing with your hair, as you looked up with a tight frown. Once he got bored of your lack of reaction, he decided to switch his focus, petting your bunny ears. This action caught you off guard, their sensitivity causing you to whimper, bringing a hand to your mouth to stifle your noises. Alastor’s grin grew ever wider, finding a new way to push your buttons. He increases pressure on his ministrations, causing you to yelp as your jelly legs gave out and you collapsed against his chest. He finally relents in favour of hoisting you back up onto your shaky legs and wobbly knees, forcing a whine from you at the loss of contact. He chuckles darkly at your compliance, your passive nature truly pleasing him. Perhaps he should keep you around; that truly would annoy Vox… but that’s a thought for another day. For now, he needed to build trust in you.

“Toots? What are ya doin here, cutie?”

Angel’s New York drawl fills the room, his voice full of concern.

“M-Mr Val sent me, Angie. Please, I-I don’t want you to get hurt…” your eyes well up at the thought of poor Angel’s contract, as he rushes over to hold you.

“I just came to warn you, Angie. Mr Val isn’t pleased. He’s mad at you, and he’s gonna make it hard for you. P-please, Angie, come back, for your own sake. I miss you…” you trail off, sniffling.

“I know ya do cutie, and it’s ok that big V’s mad at me. I can take it, sugar. But, toots, what about you? Does Vox know ya here? He’s gon be real mad that you been hanging with smiles over there.” Angel rebukes you, concerned for your own wellbeing.

“M-Mr Val said he’d tell Me Vox that he’d sent me on an errand for him, so I think I’ll be fine…”

“Sure, toots, whateva ya say.” He pulled you in for a tight hug, as you buried your head in his chest fluff.

Angel seemed a lot happier now. You were glad that he had begun to escape Mr Val’s clutches.

“Angel, who’s this?” A chipper voice interrupted your thought, as you were greeted by a tall blonde girl, who seemed ecstatic to see you.

“Charlie, this is Y/N. She’s Vox’s assistant and just came ta check up on me. Y/N, this is Princess Charlie Morningstar; she runs this shitty hotel where I’m stayin.”

Suddenly aware that you were in front of Royalty, you bowed nervously and squeaked out a greeting. Your timidness was met with aws and statements of your cuteness, causing your face to darken slightly out of embarrassment.

“Well isn’t she just adorable! Now my dear friends and guests, I believe I should be escorting our dear bunny back to her workplace. After all, we wouldn’t want your boss to worry about, would we? “

You gulped at Alastor’s words, nodding your head vigorously, as he once again, grabbed you by the arm and began marching away.

“See ya, cutie! Come visit sometime!” Angel yelled as you left.

“Bye-bye, Angie! I’ll definitely come see you again!”

And with that, you set off towards the entertainment district.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel vox #vox #vox x reader #valentino #valentino x reader #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #reader insert #lucifer morningstar #lucifer x reader #smut #hazbin hotel smut #bunny!reader #this was fun to write #I’m so in love with Christian borle #and Vox ig

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d-for-donatello · 2 months

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Simply Him

Lucifer x Reader

chapter 1

summary: Charlie invites a succubus-human hybrid overlord from lust to help her with her project. It takes a long time and a lot of hard work, but eventually, the three of you have guests wanting to be redeemed, and Charlie's father comes to see his daughter's work. If only he knew the way he made your legs all shaky and your insides all gooey from a simple glance.

oh, how you would do anything for your king.

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a.n: i love lucifer with my entire being and i havent seen any fics with this concept so i did it myself

OTHER LUCIFER WRITERS, YOU HAVE MY HEART kiss kiss

cross posted on ao3

As you stood in the Pride Ring, taking in the sights and sounds of the bustling Hellish world around you, a figure approached you. At first, you paid her no mind, but as she drew closer, you couldn't help but notice her presence. With bright blond hair and fiery red eyes, she exuded an air of confidence and intensity that was impossible to ignore. It was clear that she was someone important, and as she introduced herself as Charlotte Morningstar, the daughter of Lucifer and Lillith, and the Princess of Hell, you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe.

Despite her slightly nervous demeanor, Charlotte's words were kind and inviting. She spoke of redemption and a new life in heaven, promising a carefree and joyous existence that was impossible for most to resist. As she spoke, you found yourself drawn in, intrigued by the possibility of a new beginning. However, it was clear that she had mistaken you for a sinner, as you wandered the Pride Ring like you owned it. You couldn't blame her for the assumption, though - it was an easy mistake to make in such a place and one that you knew others would make in the future.

When you didn't respond to her, but instead gave her a gentle smile, she thought you were politely declining her offer to stay at her newly owned hotel as a chance for redemption.

"Sweetie, I'm not a sinner," you told her, and her face fell.

As you reflect on the conversation, you can't help but understand why she and countless others suspected you of being a dead soul. Your appearance didn't exactly scream "Hellborn", which was a common trait amongst most demons. You supposed it was because of your unique genetic makeup; a mixture of demon and human DNA. This was a result of your demon mother having a romantic encounter with a human, which led to your unconventional existence. Your physical appearance was a constant reminder of your hybrid heritage, which made you feel like an outsider in the demon world.

With excessive enthusiasm, Charlie approached you and nearly invaded your personal space while apologizing profusely. Despite this, you chuckled and calmly reassured her that there was no need to worry. Finally, she let go of your hands and stepped back, revealing a curious expression. "If you don't mind me asking," she began, "what exactly are you? You don't resemble a Hellhound, one of the Deadly Sins, or an Imp, so, colour me curious."

"I'm half succubus, half human," you exclaimed, your voice betraying a mix of pride and uncertainty. You couldn't help but notice the way the girl in front of you fidgeted with her fingers as if trying to hide her hands. You decided to help her out and stepped forward, allowing her to take in your appearance. Your hot pink skin shimmered a burgundy under the red light of Hell's sky, and two small horns protruded from your hairline. You unfurled your wings, causing the air around you to ripple, and your tail, tipped off with a heart, swayed behind you. In most ways, you looked like a normal Succubus, but your face was incredibly human-looking, with soft curves and delicate features. Charlie's eyes widened with wonder as she took in your appearance, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of pride. After all, it wasn't every day that someone saw a hybrid such as yourself.

"But, I'd be happy to help out with your hotel. I'm pretty influential down in Lust," you said, unable to resist a little boasting. Charlie looked at you with confusion, her brows furrowed, but you introduced yourself anyway, hoping to put her at ease.

As you told her your name, she turned towards you and extended her delicate hand, her soft palm facing upwards. You placed your hand on hers and she clasped it gently, her fingers curling around yours. With a smile, she introduced herself to you in a less-than-formal manner. The warmth of her handshake and the kindness in her eyes made you feel at ease, something you hadn't felt since leaving the Ring of Lust, your home.

With that, you and Charlie embarked on a journey to the opposite side of Pentagram City. As you walked, you kept your eyes peeled for anything new that might catch your interest. However, after exploring most of one ring, you realize that there isn't much left to discover. Throughout the journey, Charlie kept rambling on about her belief that sinners could be redeemed and that many of the souls that ended up in Hell didn't deserve to be exterminated by Heaven. You listened intently, and on some level, you agreed with her perspective.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you arrived at the hotel. However, your eyes almost bugged out of your head when you saw its condition. The place was derelict, practically falling to pieces, with peeling paint, broken windows, and a general air of neglect. But to your surprise, Charlie seemed proud of it. She explained that it was meant to be a safe haven for sinners seeking redemption and that they were working hard to fix it up.

Despite its dilapidated state, you couldn't help but admire the effort and dedication that Charlie was going to put into the hotel. You realized that her work was important and that she was fighting for a cause she truly believed in. It was really rather admirable.

"It needs some work, but here it is! What do you think?" You chose to keep your mouth closed and simply gave her a thumbs up. She ushered you inside, where it looked even worse. "Okay, well, it needs a lot of work," she drawled out at last. As you both watched a large chunk of the ceiling cave in and fall, landing mere feet away from where the two of you stood, a pair of hurried footsteps were heard. Looking up, you saw another girl.

"What happened? Are you okay Charlie?" she asked hurriedly. The princess carefully stepped around the rubble in the middle of the floor and headed over to the new face.

Charlie, with a calm and reassuring tone, addressed the stranger (though really, you were the stranger), assuring her that she was alright by saying "I'm okay, Vaggie." She then proceeded to place her hands gently on Vaggie's shoulders to further emphasize her words and comfort her.

Vaggie let out a sigh of relief, thankful that Charlie hadn't been hurt, when her eyes finally landed on you. Noticing this, the princess turned back to you so that she could introduce you to each other.

"Welcome, Y/n! I'm thrilled to introduce you to my dearest friend Vaggie," Charlie exclaimed, wrapping her arms around Vaggie's shoulders in a warm embrace. Vaggie's face lit up with a bright smile as she welcomed me with open arms, allowing Charlie to cozy up to her as much as she wanted. "I'm so excited to have you on board to help us with the hotel!" Charlie's enthusiasm was palpable, and it was easy to see why. This was her dream, slowly but surely coming to fruition, and she couldn't wait to share it with anyone who would give her the time of day. As Charlie had nervously approached you earlier, she couldn't help but feel a sense of hesitation. She had been wandering around the city for hours, completely lost and with no means of navigation. Her phone battery had died, leaving her feeling vulnerable and helpless. Despite her apprehension, she took a gamble and explained her situation to you. The fact that you not only listened to her attentively but also offered to help her was a wonderful thing in her opinion. She couldn't believe that a stranger would go out of their way to assist her, especially since you didn't know her personally. Your kindness and willingness to help left a lasting impression on Charlie. She felt grateful and relieved, realizing that there were good people in Hell who were willing to lend a helping hand.

She decided to give you a brief tour, and as you followed her, she pointed out various areas of the hotel. She showed you where the kitchen was, but explained that it was still unusable due to the extensive damage it had suffered. She then walked you through each floor of the hotel, highlighting where the bathrooms were located. As she took you through the hotel, she explained that she and Vaggie had managed to reconstruct a few of the rooms. These were the rooms that she showed you in more detail, pointing out the various features that they had managed to restore. She also mentioned that they had decided to prioritize renovating these rooms first so that they could have a comfortable living space while they worked on the rest of the hotel.

Overall, the tour was informative and gave you a good sense of the state of the hotel and the progress that had been made so far.

Charlie brought you back to the lobby area, where Vaggie had patiently waited for the two of you. Charlie asked you once again about your thoughts on the hotel so far. You didn't want to sound rude, as Charlie had been kind enough to provide you with a room for your stay. However, you felt like it was important to let her know that there was a lot of work needed to be done to improve the hotel.

"Charlie, I have to say that I appreciate what you're doing here. It's admirable that you're taking on this project and trying to make something of this building." You paused for a moment, trying to find the right words to convey your concerns without sounding too critical. "That being said, I think it's important to acknowledge that it's going to take a lot of work to make this presentable. It's not just a matter of cleaning up or organizing things. There are structural issues that need to be addressed, and the building itself needs some serious TLC."

Charlie's shoulders slumped a little as you spoke, and you regretted your choice of words. You could see that she was already feeling overwhelmed by the task at hand, and you didn't want to discourage her further. "I'm sorry, Charlie. I don't mean to sound discouraging. I just want to be honest with you about what needs to be done. But I have faith in you. I know that with some elbow grease and determination, we can make this place shine."

Charlie nodded, grateful for your encouragement. She knew that the project was going to be a lot of hard work, but she was determined to see it through. Hearing someone else acknowledge the challenges only reinforced her resolve.

She had always been known for her unwavering determination, a trait she inherited from her mother. However, it was her father's innate sense of creativity that set her apart. With the perfect blend of both qualities and with your and Vaggie's help, she was absolutely certain that the three of you could turn this place into a breathtaking masterpiece that would leave everyone in awe.

"Would you like to go and get your things?" Charlie asked after a few moments. It took you a second to figure out what she meant, but then it hit you that she had kindly offered you a room in the hotel while you worked there. You had accepted her generous offer. On the way to the hotel only an hour ago, Charlie had asked you a bit about yourself and decided that, once the building looked a little nicer, you would be responsible for advertising Charlie, the hotel, and her concept.

As she posed her question, you nodded in response. The three of you then left the hotel and began to make your way to your small apartment, which you had managed to pay for by doing odd jobs for your favourite of all the Seven Deadly Sins. Throughout the journey, Vaggie remained silent, while Charlie's curiosity got the better of her, and she began to ask you questions one after the other. You listened to each of her queries carefully and answered them diligently. Throughout the conversation, they discovered that you were nearly a millennium old and that your father was an 11th-century sailor whom your mother had intensely loved. You also revealed that you occasionally worked for Asmodeus by singing for the patrons in his club, Ozzie's. Furthermore, you mentioned that your best friend was an Imp from Pride who also worked for Ozzie in Lust. As soon as you stepped into your apartment, you were amazed to see Charlie opening a portal that led directly into one of the refurbished rooms. You couldn't believe your eyes. Your first priority was your bedroom. You started by sorting through your closet and drawers, making sure everything was in order. You placed all of your clothes, trinkets, and everything else on the bed, which was just on the other side of the portal. You were careful not to forget anything and made sure to pick up your laptop and any necessary cords before moving on to the bathroom. You handed over all of your products to Vaggie, and then quickly sorted through your linen closet. You selected your favorite towels and bed sheets and handed them to Charlie. You then sauntered into the living room and kitchen, taking in the surroundings, and instructed the two girls to carefully carry your TV through the portal. You sorted through the appliances in the kitchen, picking out the ones you thought would be more useful in the hotel's kitchen.

Once you were satisfied that you had everything you would need while living at the hotel, Charlie ushered you and Vaggie through the portal. As you walked through, you couldn't believe how seamless the transition was. Charlie closed the portal behind the three of you, and you were left in awe.

As the two girls prepared to depart, you instructed them to take the kitchen utensils and find a secure location to store them. They gathered everything they could carry, leaving you to tend to the task of organizing your belongings.

You carefully hung your dresses and other easily wrinkled articles in the closet, ensuring that they would remain in pristine condition. The remaining items were thoughtfully placed in the drawers located near the door frame of your personal bathroom. Your electronic devices and cords were meticulously arranged on the desk under the window, with your TV carefully positioned on top of the nearby chest of drawers. The bathroom products you rely on every day were neatly stored on the counter by the sink, waiting for you to add some shelves to organize your arsenal. Finally, you placed your linens under the bed, keeping them safely out of sight until you could find a more permanent storage solution.

As you finished your work, you looked out the window and noticed that the sun had already set. You could no longer hear Charlie's loud voice permeate through your door, which was a relief. Not that you particularly minded her noise, but it was nice to have some peace and quiet.

You and your mother both worked for Asmodeus, and she had been a server at Ozzie's for longer than you could remember. You had grown up in the restaurant, and it had become a second home to you. However, the constant loud music that was often played did a number on both her hearing and yours, so you were no stranger to loud noises.

You carefully sifted through your drawers, looking for the perfect nightgown to wear. After a few minutes, you found a beautiful, lacy one that caught your eye. You slipped it on and felt the soft fabric against your skin, instantly feeling more comfortable in your new surroundings. As you settled into the bed, you reached for your phone and placed it on the nightstand beside your head, making sure it was charging and within reach.

The bed felt wonderfully comfortable, and the pillows cradled your head and neck just right. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the tension of the day slowly melting away. The room was quiet and peaceful, and you could hear nothing but the gentle hum of the air conditioning.

Finally, you drifted off to sleep, feeling refreshed and ready for the day ahead. Tomorrow, you would start your work restoring the hotel, but for now, you allowed yourself to relax and recharge.

You had yet to realize just how much your life had improved.

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

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flamencodiva · 4 months

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Prologue

Description: Dean Winchester is slated to be the next Alpha of his pack. As with all Wolves, Dean is waiting to see who his mate is at 18. But when he doesn't find her within his pack, he wonders if he will ever have a mate at all. On the brink of going feral, Dean is sent away from his pack to search for his mate. He can only return once he's found her, or he must take on a chosen mate. Y/N is the daughter of the current Moon Goddess, Selene. Hidden from the mortal realm after an attack on the moon kingdom, Y/N has heard a lonely howl for the past ten years since she turned 18. When unexpected circumstances force her to leave her current home, will she be able to find the lonely wolf and help heal him?

Pairing: Shifter-Wolf!Dean Winchester x Shifter-Wolf!Female!Reader

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Benny Laffite, Castiel, Garth, John Winchester, Mary Winchester, Bobby Singer, Henry Winchester (in flashbacks), Nick (Lucifer), OMC Luke, Jack, OMC Zack, and many more!

Word Count: 2105

Warnings (For entire fic): Violence, Language, Sexual Content (Smut of all kinds).

This A/B/O is more werewolf centered than A/B/O-centered. I hope you all enjoy the world I have created through this fic. All characters, unless stated otherwise, are shifter-wolf. It is a world/lore that I stumbled upon and found myself wanting to write.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

The full moon was high in the sky as it shone down onto the pack gathering below. Sixteen year old Dean Winchester stood with other his age as their bodies bagan to shift. His bones began to break and rearrange as tufts of shiny grey fur began to appear. He groaned in pain as his family stood near him and encouraged him to not fight the change.

‘Just breath son,” his father, John Winchester soothed.

“Just take deep breaths and let your wolf take over, Dean.”

His mother, Mary Winchester, had instructed. He could only nod as his face began to change. His nose and jaw elongated to grow a snout and he found himself on his arms and legs as they changed into paws. It didn’t take long before he competed his shift and allowed his wolf spirit, Shadow, take control.

‘Woah,’ Dean said as his vision sharpened.

“Let us celebrate our children and the emergence of their wolves!” John’s voice roared as everyone sexteen asnd older began shifting.

The entire pack ran as one through the forest that was a part of their territory. Dean was at the lead with not just his parents but with the rest of the adults that made up his father and mother’s Alpha and Luna units. His best friend Benny Lafeitte was slated to be his Beta. Castiel Novak was to be his Gamma and the one to help calm and keep him intune with his Luna. And lastly Garth Fitzgerald III who would take on the Delta position.

The Silver Moon pack was one of the proudest and strongest packs in the area. John and Mary Winchester watched as their son rolled around in wolf form, playing with their second son, Twelve-year-old Sam.

“The pups are growing up fast,” John said as he looked at his wife.

“They are,” she sighed, placing her head on his shoulder, “do you think they’ll find good mates?”

“I think so.”

“Dean will have to start training with you as an Alpha,” Mary reminded him.

“He’ll make a great Alpha, my love,” John turned his head to kiss the top of his mate’s, “look at how he is with Sam and his friends. He will make sure our Pack stays strong.”

two years later,

Dean fixed his hair again. Today he would find his mate. When pack members turned eighteen, they would be brought together at the pack house to find their mates. Essentially it became one big party.

‘Gotta find mate,’ his wolf Shadow whined.

“We will,” Dean chuckled, “besides, who knows, it might be that we already found and sampled our mate,” he wiggled his eyebrows.

‘No mate, not yet. Can’t sense her,’ Shadow huffed.

Dean rolled his eyes before turning to the door to see Sam leaning against the frame.

“How come I can’t go!” he whined, “I mean, I know I haven’t shifted yet but why can’t I find my mate?”

“Sam,” Dean placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder, “you have plenty of time. Besides, it’s only four more years. What’s your rush?”

“I know, my mate,” the young teen said, shrugging his shoulders.

“You do?” Dean raised his eyebrow at his brother, “who?”

“Jessica Moore,” Sam whispered, lowering his head in embarrassment.

“Jess? Your mate is Jess? How do you know?” Dean asked.

“Swift could sense it.”

“You know you can’t know for sure until you’re 18, Sam.”

“But Dean, I’ve read in some of the books that some mates can sense they are mates before they’re 18. It’s not all that uncommon.”

“Sam,” Dean said giving his brother a warning glare. “You know the rules. You have to wait until your first shift and on the full moon of your 18th birthday to know for sure.”

“Fine,” his little brother grumbled and threw himself on the bed. “Can you feel your mate near by?”

“No,” Dean admitted. “But who knows, she might have been hiding from me. Or, it just takes me and shadow the full moon to feel them.”

Dean sighed as he watched his brother through is mirror as he continued to get ready. He couldn’t help but feel jealous. His brother’s wolf had already found his mate before he was eighteen. It wasn’t fair. Here he was, the future Alpha, and his mate had not surfaced. Or at least he couldn’t sense her in the pack.

Meanwhile, his brother, barely of legal age, could already sense his mate. He couldn’t help but feel jealous. His wolf let out a whimper before Dean shook his head.

“Then, in four years, you and Jess can make sure you belong together,” Dean cleared his throat, “this is a rite of passage, Sam. So hopefully, my mate is out there, and the Goddess Selene blesses me tonight.”

With that said, Dean gave his brother’s shoulder a soft pat before making his way down the stairs of the packhouse. He could hear his mother ordering people around to prepare one of the large rooms.

“No, no,” he heard her cry in frustration.

“The food needs to be placed in the next room. The main room is for dancing and mingling.”

“Mom,” Dean made his presence known, “don’t you think this is a bit… much?”

“Nonsense,” she dismissed him, “not every day your eldest is of age to find his mate. Besides, you know I do anything for you boys.”

“You really think I’m gonna find my mate tonight?” Dean huffed.

“Why not? I saw you and Cassie were together three summers ago,” she pointed out as she continued to direct older pack members around the house to help set up.

“But that doesn’t mean she’s my mate,” Dean shrugged, “how did you know dad was yours?”

Mary blushed and turned to her son, “I just knew. And so did your father. Our wolves just felt this connection given to us by the Goddess.”

“What if my mate isn’t here?” Dean asked, his fingers playing with a loose thread on his shirt.

“Then she will find her way to you,” Mary placed her hands on either side of her son’s face, lifting his gaze to hers. “You will find your mate Dean. You just have to trust that the Goddess has a plan.”

Dean nodded before taking her hands in his and giving his mother a kiss on her cheek. Turning away from the planning, he noticed Sam near their father’s study, his brother giving off a low growl.

“What’s wrong, Sammy?” Dean whispered.

“Dad’s got the council in there. I heard something about rogues near our border.”

“What?”

Dean stepped closer to the door, his senses tingling as he tried his best to use his wolf hearing. Much of what was being said was muffled, but he could make out a few words. He and many of his friends are mainly undergoing extra training in the next few weeks.

“Do you think it’s Lucifer?” John sighed.

“Is that what Nicks's runt is calling himself,” a voice called out, “Idjit.”

Dean recognized the voice as Bobby Singer, one of the pack’s elders. Bobby had come to join their pack around the time his father, John, was just a young pup. He remembered his dad talking about Bobby being one of the best warrior trainers he had ever seen. Dean heard stories of Bobby having a son once, but the elder never liked to talk about it.

“The rogues seem to be from Nick’s pack, and Luke seems to be leading the charge,” John sighed, “but all we can do is double that guard. Whatever he’s doing, we will need to find out.”

“We need to beef up training, John,” Bobby sighed. “I’m too old for this.”

John chuckled, “my dad trusted you, and our warriors are strong because of you. Benny is set to take over for Hypolite.”

John’s heavy footsteps could be heard from the other side of the door. Dean could tell his father was worried. He only paced in his office when he needed to think of a solution to a problem.

Dean and Sam continued to try and eavesdrop on the conversation when the door cracked open.

“You know,” their father’s voice started them, “if you wanted to know what was going on, Dean, all you had to do was knock.”

Dean stood up and gave his father a sheepish smile.

“Well--”

“Samuel,” John huffed, “you know better than to sneak around. If I wanted you to know, you would know.”

“But dad! How come Dean gets to go to all the Alpha meetings? I’m an Alpha too!”

John placed a gentle hand on his youngest son’s shoulder, “Dean is going to be Pack Alpha one day. He is of age. He’s been training for this just as you have. Right now, I need you to be a kid and enjoy not having to worry about his”

“No fair. I can fight and be helpful!” Sam growled.

“I know you can, pup,” John ruffled his youngest son’s hair. “I promise when the time comes, you can help.

Sam frowned and stomped his way up the spiral staircase to his room, grumbling along the way.

“He’s trying to grow up too fast,” John sighed.

“He’ll get over it once he gets back into training mode,” Dean assured his father, “is it serious? The rogues on our borders?”

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” John dismissed, “tonight you find your mate.”

“Yeah,” Dean sighed as his father walked away, “if she’s even here.”

The guests arrived with Dean hanging out with his friends, Benny Lafitte, Castiel Novak, and Garth Fitzgerald III.

“Excuze me, Boyz,” Benny said as he pulled away from his friends, “seem’z Red and I have zeroed in on our mate.”

“Already?” Castiel huffed, “how the --”

Dean watched as Cas stopped talking and turned towards the front door.

“I, um… I gotta--”

Garth and Dean watched as Benny and Cas walked toward their mates. The couples seem to fall into easy conversation.

“Don’t worry, Deano,” Garth gave the Alpha a slap on his back, almost making him choke on his drink, “I’m sure the next girl to walk in will be your--”

Dean covered his face with his hands as Garth clumsily tripped over his feet at the next female that walked in. Garth had stumbled into not just the table the boys were standing by, but the following tables lined up with the front door.

“Sorry, my bad!” Garth called out as he stumbled his way toward the female.

As the night went on, Dean watched as his friends and peers paired off with their mates. It hurt that his own mate hadn’t shown herself yet. By the end, Dean was left alone, his head hung low as he walked towards the balcony overlooking the valley.

The moon shone so brightly that its rays illuminated every corner of the pack's territory. Dean finished off the last of his drink before turning his gaze to the moon. Shadow could feel Dean’s pain. After all, he and Dean were one and the same. Their pain resonated so profoundly that Dean let Shadow take over as a mournful howl echoed through the sky.

‘Goddess hear my plea,’ it seemed to say, ‘let my mate find me soon.’

Little did Dean and Shadow know that in the realm of the Moon Goddess, the goddess herself had heard his cry.

“Dean Winchester,” she said, her voice a whisper as the howl echoed in the halls of her palace. “When the time comes, your mate will find you,” she said to the wind. “Strong heir of the Silver Moon Pack, your trials are just beginning. My Conor’s sacrifice to keep our daughter safe will not be in vain. I hope you can be patient.”

She walked to her room, away from the enormous mirror in her chambers, where the reflection of Dean sank.

This was to ensure the safety of her daughter, Y/N. The wolf, who claimed the name Lucifer, was no match for Conor's valiant efforts. The death of Selene's mate was ultimately felt by her. Her first concern was ensuring the safety of Y/N. Meeting Dean was still too soon for her. The young Alpha had to face his own struggles as her daughter trained.

A second reflecting pool was entered by the moon goddess's palm. With her light, she extended her hand into a room that was otherwise dark.

Whispering to her daughter, "My little Y/N," she delicately gathered the stray hairs and placed them behind her ear. "For as long as it takes, I will shield you from harm. I can only pray that the web of destiny does not end in sorrow."

Chapter 1

Tag List: Tag List is Open and has room for more. (note: Everything means everything from M/M to OFC)

Dean (Female Pairing Only)

@440mxs-wife

@virgosapphire79

@deans-spinster-witch

@sandlee44

@waynes-multiverse

@cookiechipdough

@magssteenkamp

@akshi8278

Dean Everything

@sexyvixen7

@kickingitwithkirk

@deandreamernp

@holylulusworld

@roseblue3733

@stoneyggirl2

@hobby27

@stixnstripesworld

#flamencodiva #The Moon Goddess's Daughter and the Alpha #Shifter!Dean Winchester Fic #supernatural au fic #Dean Winchester x Female!Reader #Angst #Dean Winchester AU Fic #Supernatural Fan Fiction

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misc-obeyme · 11 months

Note

congratulations on 500!!

I absolutely love your writing and have been meaning to send in a request haha, so is it okay if I request satan with the prompt silence?

thank you if you do it, and I hope you have a wonderful rest of your day! ( ˊᵕˋ )♡

Hi there, anon!

I'm so glad you've been enjoying my writing and decided to make a request! I love Satan and this was fun to write!

Thank you for participating!

GN!MC x Satan with prompt Silence

Warnings: none!

It had been a long day at the House of Lamentation. Everything that could possibly have gone wrong did. You were in the common room with the brothers where you had all been subjected to over an hour of lecturing from Lucifer. He had finally gone back to his office, leaving you all to your own devices.

The rest of the brothers began to engage in their usual activities. You were sitting beside Satan, who was engrossed in a new detective novel.

Things were peaceful for only a few moments before Mammon and Levi started arguing about something. It wasn't long before things got heated and somehow Asmo got pulled into the argument. They went back and forth, the noise level of the room steadily increasing as each of them got more annoyed with each other.

You could see Satan's eye twitching, even though he was clearly trying to ignore them and focus on his book.

You knew you couldn't just sit by and let Satan explode, which seemed inevitable at this point. You put a hand on his knee, which caused him to look at you.

"C'mon," you said. "It's getting noisy in here. Let's go read in your room."

You watched as he tried to fight the blush that crept onto his face. "Whatever you like, MC."

You took his hand and pulled him out of the room. The others continued to argue as you left them behind.

Satan didn't speak as you guided him to his room. This was a good location because the others generally knew better than to disturb him here.

You sat down on the edge of the bed and looked up at him. "Wasn't there a book you wanted me to read?"

"There are many books I think you should read," he said. "But if you mean the one I was talking about earlier, then yes, I have it right here." He turned to a stack of books, taking one off the top and bringing it over to you.

You took the book he offered, smiling as it was very clearly a book you would enjoy. Satan had taken the time to get to know your reading style and the kind of books you liked most. Now he always had the best recommendations for you.

The two of you settled back on Satan's bed. He sat up against some pillows with you between his legs, leaning back against him. He wrapped one arm around your waist, holding you close while he held his book in his other hand. The two of you sat in silence for some time, both of you content in your reading.

A slight shifting of fabric reached your ears as Satan set his book down so he could put his other arm around you. He pulled you in closer, pressing his face into your neck.

"You knew I was about to lose control earlier, didn't you?" he asked quietly, his voice slightly muffled.

"It's been a long day," you said casually. "I was about to lose it myself."

Satan laughed shortly. "You don't have to pretend," he said. "I know I make your job more difficult."

You put your book down and twisted around in his arms so you were on your knees in front of him. He looked up at you with an unreadable expression.

You held his face in your hands. "You don't make my job any more difficult than any of your brothers do. You've said that being with me makes you feel calm. Do you have any idea what that means to me?"

Satan's grip on your waist tightened. "I…" he began to say, but trailed off. He seemed uncertain how to say what he was feeling.

You smiled, shook your head, and kissed him. Satan pulled you into him, holding you against his body as he kissed you back. One hand left your waist, trailing up your back to end up tangled in your hair.

Satan seemed to find it much easier to show you how he felt and he made it very clear as a different type of silence filled the room.

the original prompt list

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me satan #obey me satan x reader #obey me satan x mc #satan x reader #satan x mc #misc 500 followers event #misc writes

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oneiric-somnolence · 7 months

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Good Omens self insert-ish OCs!

Really they just look like me.

LAILAH: Angel. You know how Crowley says he didn’t make the original concepts for the universe, he just put it all up together? Yeah, Lailah did the sketches. He designed a good portion of the universe. The “Real” mythological Lailah is thought of as angel of the Night and sometimes of Conception and Fertility. I like to think that while it wasn’t his domain, he passed a suggestion to the angel working on humans to make conception fun so that people would want to do it, just as a little silly nod to my Lailah falling and becoming Asmodeus.

Lailah fell in the war when the lot of them did. While he can’t exist in order for Asmo to exist, I like to think the modern version of him would have become the angel equivalent of a customer service drone and is Definitely Not Upset About That In Any Way, hence the Smugness With Nothing Really Behind It demeanor. He’s coping with the fact that he fell from artist to desk jockey. I think this change started happening a bit before the rebellion, and he joined Lucifer to fight it.

ASMODEUS: Demon. Lailah fell and became Asmodeus, demon of Lust and King of Demons. I figure the Good Omens version of that is Demon Babysitter Who Deals With HR Shit So Beelzebub Doesn’t Have To Worry About It. I imagine he earned the title from some great battle achievement during the war. Asmo has his silly little chicken leg as… divine punishment? Likely for the same thing that gave him the Demon King title? Who cares.

By the time the Earth came around, Asmo found it a good place to spend time. I imagine he had something to do with the whole Sodom thing. The more time he spent on the planet, the more bored he got with his Hellish duties. Fell from prominence. He negotiated his way to the same Earthly Relations/Tempations job that Crowley and Aziraphale were doing, just on the other side of the planet (America ☹️). He only mostly stayed on the side of the planet he was meant to and fucked around often. King of Demons is pretty good at getting his few bosses off his ass about things.

Asmo has an odd fixation with angels that he isn’t sure if is “nostalgia or some kind of fetish…” because Demons that are Good at Being Demons aren’t really fun to write about, are they? I haven’t made an Angelic inverse to him because that feels a bit like writing myself a partner no matter their relationship or how far removed the character is from me. Maybe someone would like to take that upon themselves…?

Eventually, his apathy for his job and his fraternizing with said Angelic Inverse got him, essentially, grounded for a few years. This was when Armageddon was supposed to happen and he was reasonably pissed that no one had told him when he found out. He returned to Earth—this time, no one cared to stop him or keep track of him because Heaven and Hell had better things to worry about after the failure of Armageddon. This time, he made no attempt to even pretend to do his job and is pretty much just vibing.

I’M SORRY I couldn’t think of any little bitty scenarios to draw him with Aziraphale. Also, I drew angel Crowley without reference, I know his hair is weird.

SO!! What do you guys think of this guy?!?!?!?

Little note— I know we all love gender-fucking GOmens angels and demons! I do too! That said, I would prefer He or They pronouns for Asmo. He is relatively removed from me but I have a connection in that way to him, and I like him having that difference from Lailah. Lailah I am okay with any pronouns! Lailah is usually thought of as a female-presenting angel anyways, and Lailah being connected to femininity while Asmo is connected to masculinity is indeed very transgender of them, which I appreciate. I was even thinking about giving Lailah a skirt in the first place. Still I personally use He or They!

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talenlee · 27 days

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Story Pile: Hazbin Hotel

sigh

so I like this a lot I guess.

It wasn’t like I approached Hazbin Hotel expecting to find a thing I loved. It was something a friend was interested in and I watched it with them because I love them to pieces and it seemed interesting enough. I wasn’t expecting to really enjoy myself so much – in fact my predominant thoughts about Hazbin Hotel prior to that was that it was media made for someone younger than me with a reference pool shallower than mine, an Edgy Cartoon made by someone who bootstrapped their way into heading up an animation studio. Quite frankly, the story to me of how Hazbin Hotel happened was so much more interesting than anything Hazbin Hotel was offering me!

Here’s your line though! This is your Spoiler Warning for a series that’s got hidden information in it (though doesn’t every story), and your Content Warning for a series that’s pretty heavy on cartoon sex references, drug references, and over-the-top violence. It’s pretty funny in terms of what kind of show it is in that okay, aside from more f-bombs than you’d assume and more c-bombs than I’d ever expect, but other than that I don’t feel like it does a lot with its higher rating. Still:

Parental neglect

Drug addiction

Alcohol addiction

Gambling addiction

Sex work

A friendly local neighbourhood serial killer

Hazbin Hotel is a very stealable animated series from Amazon’s animation studio that started its life as a series of speedpaints of weirdo OCs from an artist who then bootstrapped that fanbase into a patreon then that patreon into a kickstarter then that kickstarter into a pilot then that pilot into a pair of series that seems to have legs enough for two or three seasons. One of them, Helluva Boss, I’ll probably talk about at some point in the future because…

I mean, I probably will, but we’re talking about Hazbin Hotel here because Hazbin Hotel is something that got under my skin real fast.

I debated not talking about it in April, in Talen Month, because I after all, have two anime on the roster. I absolutely think that there’s room to call Hazbin Hotel an anime, based on its common visual language and rules it uses for how it presents expressive character language. After all, at the very least, it’s being made by at least one non-white person who probably isn’t being paid as much as she deserves.

Jokes aside, though, Hazbin Hotel is a musical Christian horror animated series set in an American Hell and follows the narrative of Charlee Morningstar, the daughter of Lucifer as she starts up a project for the redemption of damned souls in Hell. The plan is to take people into her Hotel, show them a way to change their life through emotional support, therapy, and trust, and then, stage two question mark question mark question mark, stage three, they go to heaven, redeemed. It follows Charlee as she grapples with the feasibility of her plan — ie, is it possible for a soul in Hell to change — and then the other feasibility of her plan — ie, will Heaven let a soul leave Hell?

And there are songs!

This is a character-driven series. You have to care about the characters to follow them, and I think that all the characters presented have distinct motivations, worldviews, and voices. That last part is a big part of getting into Hazbin Hotel for me because it looks as a series like it was made to suit a particular aesthetic, unified with a colour palette and – I mean, characters almost universally have the same mouth. People – not just the ones in hell – have the big jaggy teeth, and when a bunch of characters share a trait like that it can create a flattening feeling.

I find the characters really different – in fact, somewhat to their detriment, see later! The Hotel has a bunch of characters who are present for their own reasons. It’s fun, too, because narratively, there’s an excuse for why the characters are where they are: It’s a hotel for losers trying to escape Hell, you could have had almost all the cast come for that same central reason and differentiate them for other reasons. In Hazbin Hotel, the cast don’t have that as their motivation – there’s nobody in the cast for as straightforward a reason as ‘I want to do what this Hotel is supposed to do.’

Charlee is there because she believes in the mission, as a way to help people in Hell. Vaggie is there because she believes in her girlfriend. Angel Dust is there to mooch; he sees it as convenient. Husk is there because he’s ordered to. Mimzy is there because she’s been given it as a responsibility. Sir Pentious is there because of a scam. Each of these choices gets transformed through the alchemy of the series into being sincere believers in the mission of the Hotel, and Alastor-

Oh yes.

Alastor.

Phew.

Alastor is a special case. There’s a lot going on with him that I like, from his Old Timey radio voice affect (complete with distortion effect on the track!), to his Arch Serial Killer With Rules vibes, his ‘effortless’ coolness that only works because of how much effort he puts into it, his deeply pagan iconography, his ambitious boiling seething at his limitations, and of course, most importantly of all, how much of a petty shit he is.

Alastor is probably my favourite character if you ignore various image searches for Angel Dust. I like Alastor so much that I’m reasonably confident I’m going to be peeling off things that reference him from his character and imbuing them into other OCs for a few years, like someone making every part of an orange work for a bunch of different meals and even planting the seeds. Alastor is made up of so many, coherently held together things that are my jam that I understand the kind of people who look at a character in media and say ‘it me’ unironically.

And he’s wrong.

One of the things Alastor does in the story, to me, is present the role of the Powerhouse. The Powerhouse isn’t the most important character, they’re not the one going through the most character development. They’re not the one who the story needs to turn to for important emotional responses or themes, because he’s the one who’s there to show up when the story needs power that can be brought to bear on saving or mopping up something someone else did. I love powerhouses, they’re one of my favourite archetypes; let other people take the centre stage, let their choices be the ones that matter, and I will cheer for the one who shows up to save and protect those choices. I have so much fun with Powerhouses, whether they’re the disappointed fixer or the beloved first follower. Alastor is Charlee’s Powerhouse. He’s convinced that when the time comes to fight Adam, he’s going to be able to step up to and meet that and beat it, because he can.

And he’s wrong.

It would be one thing if Alastor could do it! That’d be cool too! It wouldn’t be a bad thing to do. But it’s another thing if all of Alastor’s posing and pushing for power with characters like Lucifer and Adam was based on a very reasonable assumption about his power and the power of his opponents. Because it’s possible to have reasonable assumptions and just not have those assumptions be correct. Alastor carries himself like he’s the scariest man in the world, and he really is for most people who deal with him. It’d be enough for him to merely be amazing.

And he’s wrong.

It’s that wrongness that brings with it the little dash of complexity Hazbin Hotel needed to really excite me. Compexity is how it takes a story set up to make perfectly good, standard interfaces between ideas like ‘what is good and evil’ and ‘how can you live in hell without getting used to hell’ and then take just the slightly less-than-obvious next step in the answers. It involves looking at characters in this fantastic situation and considering them not as inhuman entities shriven of identity, but rather monstrous versions of human entities, with human needs and wants and ideals, and for there to be ways those wants and needs become amplified through the shedding of an idea of hope.

I like how it’s a musical, in that context! It’s full of characters who do something weird and inhuman (sing their feelings in contextually warped fantasy spaces), and then uses that to present very real, very deep truths about who they are, even including things they wouldn’t – or shouldn’t! – say without the song propelling them along.

The songs aren’t all electro-swing numbers, though enough are that I felt pleasantly served. I like electro swing! I like powerful Disney numbers! I like diegetic non-diegetic music! I also like the ways they use the songs for jokes! Multiple songs are interrupted and the interruptions are part of the story! And the complexity of the characters plays out in the songs! Like how Alastor invades a song to be petty, or the moment when Angel Dust realises he’s not going to be ridiculed for joining in a song.

Something I like about song in this genre is when they can stand on their own – when they begin or end cleanly and aren’t interrupted by dialogue from the narrative per se. Like, when the song’s job is part of the story, and the story is not needing to fight the song for its place. The biggest sin of the songs in Hazbin Hotel to me is that a few of them could afford to be longer and more varied – which is to say, hey, I like this, and would like more of it.

I describe it as a Christian Horror series depicting an American Hell. It’s a Heaven and Hell situation in the image of current modern mainstream American Christianity, which is to say, it doesn’t make much sense as presented. Hell in the Bible is not represented as a place with cities and culture, it’s barely presented at all – you get more of a ‘outer darkness’ or ‘neverending burning’ kind of vibe than ‘a city where people can keep doing things that are inappropriate.’

Look also to who gets damned to Hell and why. The complaint about Angel is that he’s a crack whore who burned his original chance. We don’t know what Angel’s life before Hell was like, but his life in Hell appears to be largely pretty harmless; he does drugs, he makes porn. That is to say, he does two things that only negatively affect himself. This doesn’t make sense as an inherent sin or anything but that’s okay because this world doesn’t seem to be one that has any idea about what makes anyone deserve anything; people in hell are present because they are present in hell, and that’s used to tautologically justify their presence there. But people in Hell can love and form bonds and elevate one another and be kind and even have kids –

Unless the kids in hell are there because they died as sinful children, which is okay, that could be what’s happening too.

There’s this book, Only Begotten Daughter, by Jame Murrow. In that book, god has a daughter, with a dude, working at a sperm bank, and she goes on an adventure through various elements of divine life that the Bible presents but doesn’t properly explore. In that book she winds up going to heaven – briefly – and finds to her surprise there are like, four people there; Moses, Jesus, Enoch and Elisha. When she quizzes them about this the response is ‘well, yeah, almost nobody gets into Heaven, it’s just not possible, with all the rules that conflict with one another.’

It’s that kind of heaven that Hazbin Hotel is built around, and it comes with it to show an idea of divine hiddenness. The problem of divine hiddenness is of the seeming contradiction in the idea of a God that exists, is omnipotent and omnisicent, and wants people to believe in him but there are people who sincerely want to and aren’t convinced by what has been presented to them as evidence. How does that work? In Hazbin Hotel, god, as much as they may or may not exist, appears to be abscent. People don’t even talk about them – they refer to powers around them, but no individual who can sort things out.

This god is missing, somehow, in a way that nobody talks about.

All this appeal isn’t to try and imply that Hazbin Hotel is immune to criticism. To laundry list it all that I have problems with is kinda unnecessary, but just off the top of my head, there’s a certain way the story allocates indulgences to specific characters. Any and all sex jokes are going to go through Angel Dust, which means they are going to come across as gay, rather than necessarily bi or pan. The result that seems to come from that is that Vaggie and Charlee despite being girlfriends from day 1 and sleeping in the same bed, seem kinda sexless, because all the Sex Stuff happens through Angel Dust.

In the same vein, this vision of Hell talks about ‘bad things’ but keeps those bad things in a very specific vein, like murder and being a participant in some things. Pornography isn’t bad! Liking your phone isn’t bad! The way that the story seems to position these as demonically empowered things on part with, uh, cannibalism, is a little strange, and it feels muddied.

Character design has some samey traits; the lack of noses and the commonality of jagged-tooth mouths mean that some characters can look similar, and worse, make it so that when a character uses that kind of expression it doesn’t necessarily evoke anything but ‘that is a mouth.’ The Vees are set up to be villains for later, but it feels like since one is a rapist and the others are uh, assholes, that maybe there’s going to be a problem keeping those characters in a reasonable space compared to one another.

It also feels like it can run the risk of getting bogged down in lore. I don’t want to watch a 27 minute explainer video on why Lillith must be the demon to whom Alastor is bound. Just – you know, just let the story do what it’s doing and wait until it’s done before you try and dive into the metaphysics of a multiverse, please.

I like Hazbin Hotel. I don’t think I’m supposed to, I’m a very uncool not-even-a-goth. But I like it, and I want to see more of it. And when I have seen more of it, I want to be able to say that I liked what it wound up doing with the character of god.

Which is a pretty tall order, huh?

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

#Hazbin Hotel #Media #Story Pile

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benditlikepress · 3 years

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one good movie kiss

here for @sunforgrace 's thesis statement: give dean one good movie kiss and he WILL be alright

“Are you avoiding me?”

Dean’s hand stills in the air above his cup of coffee as the voice cuts through the kitchen.

Cas is standing in the middle of the room in an ill-fitting sweater and his hair is dishevelled as though he’s been tossing and turning. He looks so unremarkable, so human, it makes Dean’s breath catch in his throat at the reminder.

It’s been three days since Cas got back and it occurs to Dean when he speaks that it’s the first time they’ve been alone together. Awake, that is: Dean realised early on that difficult conversations couldn’t happen if you’re asleep. Thank god for Cas’ Empty-rescue hangover.

“No. I’m not avoiding you.”

“OK. Good. I was worried that after what happened things might be weird between us, but I suppose that’s unavoidable.” Cas pulls a face that’s a little self-deprecating.

I’m fighting the urge to run the hell away from you, Dean thinks. To stay the hell away from you before I do anything else to hurt you. Before you make a reckless decision to save me, again, or say something so brutal and true that my legs give out from under me and I’m left sitting alone on the floor wondering how the hell I’m supposed to do this on my own.

I’m fighting the urge to wrap you in my arms and never let go.

“I’m not avoiding you, Cas. I just.. I’m trying to figure out the stuff I have to say to you.”

“I understand. I know everything that’s happened recently is a lot to contend with.”

“Yeah, that’s an understatement.” Dean coughs and stands up, tapping his hands against his legs for something to do. Cas is looking at him expectantly and Dean knows he deserves answers but how is he supposed to do that? How do you even begin to explain to someone that their mere presence in the room has your breath hitching? “But it’s not.. you. It’s not you I’m avoiding. It’s just. Y’know. The stuff you said before you..” He doesn’t say it. He can’t. Cas blinks.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. That’s – god, that’s the last thing I want. I’m just.. trying to get my head around it.”

“I meant it.”

“I know you did. I know that. I just.. I believe you, and nobody’s ever really said that stuff to me and meant it before. So I don’t really know how to talk to you about it. But I.. so long as you know I appreciate it.” The words are too fast and Dean doesn’t know if that’s more or less embarrassing than the way he’s stumbling, pathetic half-words forcing their way out of his mouth.

“OK.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

And it’s that simple to him, apparently. He doesn’t ask Dean for anything else. It pisses Dean off, actually – he wants Cas to ask him. Maybe if he’s forced to confront it the words might come out a little easier.

“I mean, you know that I.” Dean stops again abruptly and jesus christ why is there a lump in his throat? “It means something. To me. It means a whole lot, actually. Maybe if it didn’t it’d be easier to talk about. There’s stuff that I wanna.. stuff I need for you to hear. That you deserve to hear, when I get my head out of my ass. Because I don’t feel like I deserve any of that crap you said to me, but you deserve to hear things back.”

It feels like a monumental admission but it’s clearly not the thing on Cas’ mind as he frowns.

“You think you don’t deserve that? You really believe that?”

“Honestly? I’ve never believed it. I don’t know why you give me the time of day half the time, man. And you don’t have to.. argue about it, or anything. I know you want to. It’s just how I see it.”

Cas thinks about that for a couple of seconds, eyes boring into Dean so deeply he half-wonders if he can’t still see his soul. He walks further into the room but doesn’t approach Dean – not really. Just takes a couple of steps between the distance.

“I won’t argue. Not now. But I hope I can make you understand that you deserve it. Happiness, peace.. love-” The word has Dean’s mind reeling, flashbacks and heat rushing “– I spent a long time believing I couldn’t accept them for myself. I thought too much had happened, or that I wasn’t built to be capable. You allowed me to think differently. I want you to do the same.” Cas looks down and taps his hand on the edge of the table as though he hasn’t got Dean’s heart in the palm of it. He looks up again and his expression is breath-takingly earnest. “Dean, the things I said barely touch the sides. I don’t know if I could ever put into words the impact you’ve had on me since we met. I just wanted you to understand. I needed you to understand how other people see you, even if you can’t see it for yourself.”

“Message received.” Dean responds like a fucking asshole but Cas smiles all the same, warm and knowing and in a way that fills Dean with the relief of being understood.

“I can give you space to think about things if that’s what you want. I know I’ve put you in a difficult position.”

“It’s not difficult. Probably not for anyone else except me.”

Dean smiles in derision and Cas returns it but it’s pity and sadness and love and Dean’s mouth closes. “It was difficult. I threw things at you that’d been on my mind for a long time and didn’t give you any time to process it.”

“I’ve had weeks. Weeks and weeks, and I still can’t.. I think until I saw you again I had no idea how to understand it. Looking you in the eye and thinking about it-” Dean closes his eyes and pushes away black ooze and secrets and everything else that threatens to flow over the things he wants to remember. Tears in Cas’ eyes and his smile so bright, brighter than Dean even thought him capable.

He’s looking at him now like he might break.

“I’m sorry, Cas. I know I’m not-”

“I know exactly what you are, Dean.” The words are clear and sincere and Dean wonders if there’s anyone else in the universe capable of arresting him so simply. “I’ll leave you to it.” Cas eventually nods at Dean’s breakfast and smiles, dipping his head as he starts to leave.

“We’ll talk. We will.”

“I know we will.” He smiles a little as he turns to walk away and suddenly Dean’s heart is in his mouth at the sight of the back of his head.

Say something. Say something.

“Cas.” Dean calls too quickly, too desperately, and when he turns to look at him with naked expectation all of the wind is knocked right back out of his sails. “I… fuck, Cas. I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

He smiles with complete and utter sincerity, and god he has to stop doing that. Stop accepting Dean’s bullshit as though it’s nothing. Shout, argue, anything.

He’s leaving. He’s still leaving, he’s turning away and suddenly Dean’s legs are propelling him through the kitchen of their own accord.

Dean grabs his arm and yanks him around, the force of it making Cas briefly stumble a little before he straightens his feet and looks at Dean with a wide-eyed confusion that makes Dean’s heart hammer in his chest.

Dean brings his hands up to cup Cas’ face around his ears on his neck and jaw, in a way he has before and convinced himself wasn’t ever possible when they weren’t battling life or death. Cas’ stubble is a little longer than usual and he strokes the line of it with his thumb, watching as Cas’ mouth falls open just a touch in the echoing silence.

Dean takes his time, registering every mini-movement of expression in Cas’ face as he understands what’s happening. His hand comes up to Dean’s wrist but doesn’t push it away, rather grips it for dear life as though he’s afraid it’s going to disappear. When Cas’ eyes travel down his face Dean takes it as invitation and closes the gap between them, pressing his lips lightly but surely against Cas’.

At first Cas’ are stunned frozen against his and Dean starts to panic that he’s made some kind of earth-shattering error in judgement before the hand on his wrist relaxes and he feels a pressure against his mouth. Cas’ lips are a little chapped, like always, and Dean feels his eyelashes flutter.

He opens his eyes reluctantly as he pulls away, not sure what he’s expecting to see (rejection? Lucifer? nothing at all?) and almost slams them shut again when he finds Cas peering at him with such utter arresting devotion he thinks his knees might buckle.

Dean’s hands drop to his sides of their own accord, suddenly absolutely terrified, but Cas doesn’t move away in return. In fact, he brings his hand to Dean’s cheek and Dean’s sure he must look like a fish opening and closing his mouth in stunned silence before suddenly Cas moves in to kiss him again, other hand coming up to grab his face and hold him in place as his lips are ferocious and impassioned against his own.

And this, this is more like it, Dean’s barely able to think as Cas’ mouth opens and his tongue plays along the line of Dean’s own lips, his heart hammering in his chest as he hears a noise in Cas’ throat as he allows him entrance.

Cas kisses like he’s never going to get another chance: like Dean has granted him a once-in-a-lifetime wish that’s going to get taken away at any moment. He’s hungry and sharp and warm and Dean feels breathless as he lowers his hands from his face to his neck and then to his hip, pulling Dean sharply against him as Dean’s own hands cup his jaw and try desperately to gain a semblance of control.

There’s stubble scratching his face and he tries fleetingly to explain away the flushing burn on his skin as a by-product of it, but then there’s a hand riding up his shirt onto on the bare skin at the small of his back and it’s on fire.

Where the hell did Cas learn to kiss like this? His head is spinning before he can ponder the question and fingers on his back are steady and grounding even as Cas’ tongue and lips and breath have him practically able to feel the earth spinning beneath him.

The kiss slows steadily and then all at once as Cas’ lips lighten against his, and he feels him exhale against his skin in a release that Dean himself is desperate for. He knows it’ll come, eventually: in every moment he allows himself to open like this, touch on his skin making him feel alive.

Cas pulls away and Dean feels a longing form deeply and harshly in his throat that barely stops him from yanking him straight back in again. He forces himself to open his eyes, wondering if Cas can see water pricking in the corners of them.

“Don’t give me space, Cas. I don’t want it.” He manages to say though his voice sounds foreign and weird to his own ears, like it’s formed by someone else. There’s that smile on Cas’ lips again and he feels a desperation to say something, anything, that’ll keep it frozen in time. “Just stay.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“I know.” Cas’ own voice is quiet now and Dean’s fingers somehow find themselves reaching out towards Cas’ hand, pulling it a little.

“You wanna do something today?” He says, just for something to say. Anything to prolong the moment.

“OK.”

“Sweet.” Dean nods and tips his head away, running a hand through his hair to try to gain some composure as Cas smiles at him as though nothing’s happened.

Dean has to pinch himself to check that it has.

#supernatural #destiel #deancas #destiel fanfiction #my fanfiction

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beels-burger-babe · 3 years

Note

Hi! I saw that requests are open, if it's not a problem could i request Satan reacting to MC coming to him with new books every time they hang out because they want him to read them out loud since they have a short attention span? Like, Satan would be reading said book while MC is drawing or doing something else.

I have adhd and reading books that are not digital is a nightmare for me, so him reading out loud would be pretty relaxing.

Btw it's up to you if you wanna do headcanons or a oneshot!

ABSOLUTELY!!! So this is actually my first request and I'm super excited because as someone who also has ADHD I can totally relate! I hope you like it!

Too Still, Too Quiet

GN!MC with ADHD Summary: Satan notices that MC seems to have a hard time hanging out with him; he's determined to get to the bottom of the issue and find a solution.

After living in the House of Lamentation for nearly a year, you've grown accustomed to the many quirks that came with living with the seven Lords of the Devildom. You had gotten close to the brothers, and as they picked up on your symptoms for your ADHD, they each found their own ways of being helpful. Lucifer had always known, as it was written on your file, and made a point of sending you subtle reminders throughout the day to keep you organized and on task. He brushed it off saying that it merely prevented him from having to go after you later on if you forgot or did something incorrectly. Mammon was no stranger to having a hard time prioritizing and staying focused and took pride in lending you some of the different tools he used to fidget with. After all, his human deserved the best, and you couldn’t get any better than using something that belonged to the great Mammon. Leviathan’s room provided a relaxing atmosphere with just enough stimulation to keep your brain satisfied enough to focus on your school work and tasks. The sounds of the aquarium provided a fantastic back ground noise, and Levi always took caution in wearing his headphones when he gamed if you were working in his room to not add to the distractions around you. Asmodeus had a good eye for when you were growing too frustrated by the regular chaos that tended to fill the House of Lamentation and would pull you aside to his room for some self-care to help calm you down. There was nothing like a head message and face mask from Asmo as he happily gossiped about the latest drama in The Fall to help ground you. Beelzebub, on the other hand, was great at noticing when you were starting to grow restless. In those moments, he’d not-so-subtly state that he was heading to the gym and it’d sure be nice if he had someone to join in before very obviously making eye contact with you. At first you had a hard time figuring out a good balance between a work out that satisfied Beel while also not killing you. But now the two of you easily worked with each other until you were both sweating, smiling, and happy. He also made sure to remind you to eat through out the day whenever you went to a round of hyper-fixation on something. Belphegore wasn’t particularly helpful when it came to your forgetful spells or disorganization as, being the Avatar of Sloth, he would normally encourage such behavior. Instead, he did what he did best, and helped put your wandering mind to ease whenever you were trying to sleep. The only person, and not for a lack of trying, that you just couldn’t seem to find a flow with was Satan.

He was too quiet and organized for you to be able to stand being around him for long periods of time. You had tried hanging out with him a couple of times, but after a few minutes of him silently reading or him explaining whichever text he was currently studying, you would grow restless and distracted. Which brought you to your current situation. Satan had invited you to come relax in his room with him, as the rest of his brothers were dealing with the aftermath of their most recent dilemma. It wasn’t so bad at first, some light conversation here, some banter there, but soon your mind started to wander off to the spines of the endless books around you as you pondered on what might be inside them. “MC?” Your attention snapped back onto Satan, who stood frowning at you. You blushed and scratched the back of your neck. “Oh, I’m sorry. I got a little distracted. What were you saying?” Satan sighed as his frown deepened. “I’ve noticed that tends to happen a lot with you. Not that there’s anything wrong with that!” He quickly amended raising his hands in defense. “But it seems particularly bad when you’re with me. You get quite jittery and I don’t think you’ve ever stayed in my room longer than ten minutes,” for a second his eyes almost looked sad as he looked over at you, “Is it something I’m doing? Do I make you uncomfortable?” “No! Satan, no, it’s not you I promise!” You quickly reassured moving closer to him. “It’s just well I have a hard time staying still and focusing on things and when it gets too quiet it bothers me because then my brain is like hyper fixating on the smallest noises in the room, even though I’m supposed to be focusing on what you’re saying or my work, and it’s like, is that a page a turning or a something scratching at the door and then I start wondering about what kind of things could be in here and-” “MC.” Satan cut off, though he didn’t seem annoyed. In fact, his eyes now gleamed with a sense of understanding. “Do you happen to have ADHD?” “Yeah, I thought you all knew? Lucifer told all of you when I arrived right? That’s why everyone is so-” you moved your hand in a vague gesture that even you weren’t entirely sure what it was meant to symbolize. Satan huffed and shook his head. “Lucifer did no such thing. I imagine he would’ve told us if it came to be a big enough problem. But you know him. He takes pride in being the only one to know certain things. “ You frowned and tilted your head in confusion. “But then what about the others? They’ve all been helping me out for months now.” Satan placed a hand under his chin in thought, “They most likely took note of individual symptoms and decided to help. Belphegore, and possibly even Leviathan and Asmodeus may have put two and two together, but the rest probably think you’re just forgetful or that you’re restless,” he smiled reassuringly at you, “but that’s besides the point. Now that I know, I can help make you feel more at ease when you’re with me. What’s the main issue that you-” “It’s too quiet!” You quickly cut off, causing Satan to raise an eyebrow. “When we’re in here relaxing and you’re just reading and I’m supposed to be reading too, it’s too quiet. I try to focus on the book, but my mind keeps jumping around to other things. And I want to read all those books you’ve recommended to me, I really do, but I start feeling bored after a little while and next thing I know I jumping sentences without noticing and then I’ve gone an entire chapter with no recollection of what I’ve just read because I wasn’t really paying attention to the words at all I was just flipping pages without realizing it, so I have to go back and re-read the whole thing all over again!” You throw your hands in the air in frustration. “Is exhausting and makes me feel dumb, so I get up and do something else instead.” Satan nodded, taking in every word carefully. “Well first of all,” you yelped as he flicked your forehead. “Ouch! What was that for?!” The demon smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. “For calling yourself dumb. Just because you have more difficulty with literature than others, does not mean you’re dumb. You simply require a different reading strategy than what most consider “usual”, and I believe I have a solution that would suit both of us,” you perked up at his words. “I recommended those books to you because I greatly enjoyed them myself. How about, when you’re here, you can choose a book you want to read, and I will read it out loud for you? That should help, yes?” A light airy warmth filled your chest at just how accommodating Satan was willing to be. “But what about the books that you were reading?” The demon shrugged, “I can always read them in my spare time.” He moved closer to take your hands into his, silently demanding your full attention. “I want to spend more time with you and get to know you better. I want you to be comfortable and be able to be yourself when you’re around me without feeling stressed. This is honestly the least I could do for you, MC.” Blushed rushed to your cheeks as you felt your heart flutter in your chest. You awkwardly cleared your throat and took your hands back, rubbing them on your legs as you noted how clammy they were. “I think I-I would like that a lot” The grin on Satan’s face widened as he took one of your hands and lead you deeper into the bookshelves of his room. “Splendid! Then why don’t we get try right away? Take you pick, MC, I will be your narrator for the evening and for as long as you wish.” ***** I hope this was something along the lines of what you were looking for! It is a little short, but I hope you like it. Thank you so much for the request, I loved it! Requests are OPEN and I would definitely love to complete some more if anyone has any ideas or prompts that they’d like me to complete. Just send in an ask and, if I feel comfortable with it, I’ll do my best to make a fic for it!

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astaroth1357 · 4 years

Text

Demon Brothers Getting Possessive at the Club

… I can explain. Or, well, no I can't. But this exists now anyway so enjoy?

Warnings: Possessive Behavior, Yandere-ish, Violence

Intro: The MC and their favorite demon were just trying to have a fun night out at The Fall. The lights were going, the music was blaring, and the two of them were by the bar but there was a problem. Their demon noticed a sketchy creep who'd been eyeing their human all night long… and that simply won't do. So when their human left to use the bathroom…

It was time to take care of the problem.

Lucifer

Though Lucifer was usually less than into the club scene, the MC wanted a change of pace from their usual dates and he did so want to make them happy… At first, he thought he'd just be dealing with the loud noise and crowded atmosphere but then he noticed something else…

A demon had been following them through most of the night, always keeping his distance but staring at the MC far too much for his liking…

This put Lucifer in a bit of an odd position. He didn't exactly want to leave the club because the MC didn't look tired yet, but he also didn't like seeing that cretin following them around…

Yet, of course, it also rubbed his pride the wrong way to go tell him to stop directly. Lucifer would never admit to feeling bothered by some pitiful lesser demon… Never.

But by the time the MC left him to use the restroom, he was at his wit's end. He could see the man had taken a seat at the other end of the bar just to watch them and he was growing irritated… So he had to devise a new strategy.

It's unusual for demons to walk around in their true forms. It's not that it's frowned upon or anything, it's just that it's normally something reserved for big events… or for displays of dominance and control.

So when Lucifer slipped into his demon form in the middle of The Fall, it turned quite a few heads. Truthfully, there was only one head in particular that he wanted his way, and once he got it, he stared the guy down…

It was a taste of the lowlife's own medicine, but so much worse coming from him… The feel of Lucifer's bloody-onyx eyes and chillingly cold smile from across the bar could have made even the strongest men run for the hills…

Needless to say, the demon didn't last very long under the eldest brother's gaze. In fact, he wilted almost immediately before slinking away as quickly as he could…

A guy not even able to stomach the firstborn's stare? Truly a pathetic coward if Lucifer ever saw one.

He was totally back to normal by the time the MC returned and went back to dancing with them like nothing ever happened… Though his human couldn't help but notice the crowd kept their distance from them for the rest of the night...

Eh, Hell is just weird sometimes isn't it?

Mammon

Look, Mammon had been trying to have some fun the whole night and for the most part he'd been succeeding except for one thing…

He could sense that asshole still hadn't left them alone. He'd just hover near him and his MC like a hellhound stalking prey… It was annoying. It was creepy…

And it was reeeaaallly getting on his nerves.

When the MC left for the restroom, he was leaning back against the bar scanning the room for their abhorrent admirer while using the tint of his sunglasses to hide his eyes.

It didn't take him long to see the gross fuck sitting alone at a table. Who knew what he was planning... following them home? Taking candid shots of MC? Either way, he wanted to sock him in the jaw…

But, of course, Mammon knew he had to play it just a little smoother than that to stay in the club.

Mammon sauntered over to the man's table and invited himself to sit, kicking his feet up to look casual but knocking his boots against the surface so roughly it made the guy jump... Pathetic.

"Oi, so I've seen ya lookin at my human… Real work of art, eh?" He flashed the guy a fanged grin and watched him sweat for a second before cutting off any answer.

"-'course they are. Don't need to tell me. But I gotta say, you're really ticking me off, bud… We're just tryin to enjoy ourselves but I keep seeing your ugly mug wherever we're at."

He pulled his legs back from the table and reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a deck of playing cards.

"Tell ya what, I'm feelin oddly generous so let's play a game. You and me. If ya win, I'll let ya have a night with'em…" He fought the urge to punch the guy when he saw his eyes light up, "but if I win…"

Mammon put the deck on the table then leaned in real close, "I'll flay your skin off and gild ya skeleton in the 4th circle myself… Gold skulls are selling like hotcakes right now." He put every bit of malice he could into the threat, even barring his increasingly sharpening fangs.

The guy must of had a good head on him because he paled immediately before getting up and running from the table. If there's one thing everybody knows about Mammon, it's never play cards with him if he can make even a single Grimm… Chances are, you're gonna lose.

When the MC came back, Mammon flagged them down to their new table and pulled them onto his lap for a little chat before getting more drinks. They're his human. His.

Leviathan

Of course Levi noticed this creep the second that they walked in. He's Envy. He had been hyper-vigilant of all the attention the MC had been receiving since their first step inside. But this guy was… persistent.

He'd been tailing them all night, always finding spots with good vantage points, which of course was sketch as hell but...

Honestly? Levi just didn't like him looking at them. Not at all. In fact, he'd hazard to say he truly hated this complete stranger for how much real estate his eyes were taking up of his precious MC… What gave him the right??

By the time the MC had to use the restroom, he was sitting at the bar seriously contemplating whether or not to just carry them home… He didn't like night clubs anyway, but they seemed to be having fun and they always looked so cute while dancing…

No. He couldn't just take them home. But once they left, he had a much better idea.

It was easy for Levi to slip away from the bar. The asshole was leaned back against a nearby wall and pretty much pulled his phone out the second the MC was out of sight. From there, Levi only had to do what he did best, blend into the background, until he was right next to the guy...

He didn't say anything. He didn't give him any warning or threat. No, no he was far too ticked to be that charitable…

The only indication the man got of how royally he fucked up was the searing pain of Levi's fangs digging into his shoulder, the thirdborn's gloved hand muffling his screams until the venom took hold of his prey.

The last thing that man ever saw, propped up and paralyzed against the wall, was the MC coming back to their docile otaku, who now pulled them into his arms… still shooting the occasional smirk in his victim's direction.

And the last thing he ever heard was the same word his killer whispered to him after his throat became too tight to scream… "Mine."

Satan

This always seemed to happen whenever he took the MC places… They could be walking together in the park and he'd still see lesser demon eyes following them around...

Frankly, it did piss him off to a degree. He knew they never asked to be stared at like a piece of meat, but if he'd go on a rampage every time it happened then they'd never have a quiet date again. So he learned to put up with it… to an extent.

The demon that had been following them that night was really testing his notoriously short patience...

He had tried several tactics to shake the guy as they were dancing but he'd always come right back. He even got more handsy than normal to show, "Hey, this one is mine!" but that had gotten him equally dismal results… It was bordering the line of disrespect now.

He did his best to keep up a friendly face while the MC was with him, but they must have noticed he'd gotten tense. They told him to try and relax a bit before they left for the bathroom…

Oh, he was going to relax alright.

The second they were out of sight, Satan's smile broke into a glare he leveled right at the offending scumbag's table. Of course, seeing the MC had left put the guy's attention elsewhere, but that was his funeral.

Satan knew his time was limited, so he skipped the pleasantries and marched right over to him, slamming his foot down onto the edge of the table with such force it threatened to tip it over then grabbed him by the neck.

"Back. OFF."

It really didn't take much, his reputation preceded him. He felt the guy's pulse skyrocket between his fingers before he let him go.

It was hard not to get a little satisfaction when watching the worthless creep scramble away from him like his life depended on it (as it very much did). He almost considered giving chase just to amp up the fun, but the MC returned sooner than he expected…

A pair of arms around his waist and lips against his cheek were enough to evaporate his anger right then… but it didn't settle his sudden need to mark them in the slightest.

Ultimately, the real question was whether he could wait until they got home to show the world that they were his or if they needed to find somewhere… quieter. No promises, MC.

Asmodeus

Asmo had dealt with his fair share of admirers, the stalking kind included. Fortunately, dealing with them had always been relatively easy for him (he is a ruler of Hell after all) but one targeting his beloved human…? That was far less acceptable in his eyes.

He caught sight of the beady eyes of the creep while he was dancing with the MC. At first, he thought the guy was looking at him (who wouldn't?) but then he followed his eyeline right to his lovely human companion…

Though he couldn't exactly blame him for staring, he and MC made a fantastic looking pair, he definitely couldn't sit idly by either. People like this are usually bad news and he refused to let any harm come to his MC…!

He was as tactful as ever, though. He liked The Fall and would rather not be banned from returning… He waited patiently for the MC to go to the bathroom before making his way over to the creep, his perfect smile still sitting on his face.

"Excuse me, cutie." He waited for the stalker's eyes to leave his phone and settle on Asmo's own. "Ah, there you are! Good. I had a question for you, I think… oh no, I must have forgotten it! Silly me."

Though he could see the demon was growing annoyed, Asmo stalled for just a few moments longer… just long enough for his bewitching charm to set into his victim's mind.

"Ah! Now I remember. Do you like dogs?" He smiled in satisfaction to see the creeper's head nod slowly. "Oh good! Because I know a very hungry dog right now… Cerberus is his name and I don't think he's had a meal today. Would you be a doll and go feed him for me? He lives in the cave behind the House of Lamentation. You can't miss him."

The demon's head nodded slowly yet again as he rose from his chair and walked out of the club quietly. Quick, painless, and with no messy cleanup!

Well… none that Cerberus wouldn't clean up for him anyway. Asmo returned to the bar with a newly giddy grin on his face... His MC wouldn't be seeing that man ever again~!

Beelzebub

Beel is very patient. Beel is very kind. Beel is very forgiving. Beel is… really not about this right now...

Unlike his brothers, Beel's easygoing nature made him less quick to pick up on the lingering glances that the MC gets from others. Even when he does notice, he can usually let it slide if looking is all they do (he's the only one who can touch after all).

But even he couldn't miss how wolfishly that demon was staring at them… It made him uncomfortable and the guy just refused to leave them alone…

By the time the MC left Beel at the bar to use the restroom, he was on a level of irritated usually only reserved for when someone denied him food… It was like that jerk had taken a cheese grater to his patience and it was wearing thin…

As much as he knew he could deck him, he didn't want to get them kicked out… The MC was having such a good time, despite the creep's ogling, so he used a different approach…

Being so high up in Hell had its perks and one was that anywhere in town that offered food also had a secret menu… A Beelzebub Only menu (as a precaution so that he wouldn't wreck the place whenever he stopped by). Anything on his menu always had huge portions and The Fall was no exception.

The bartender didn't seem too surprised when he ordered a Drakon Leg, but he was very surprised when he asked to get the full bone too… Not with the meat on it. Just the bone.

Fun Fact: the bones of Drakons are supremely thick and strong enough to be used as clubs.

Even More Fun Fact: it takes an incredible amount of force to snap these bones…

...which Beel did without breaking a sweat… and maintaining eye contact with the creep The. Entire. Time. The sound of the bone snapping in two was almost as deafening as a gunshot and he didn't even flinch.

The demon went running out of the club with his tail between his legs and quickly got swapped out for the MC running back, worried about what made such a loud noise…

Of course, by that time Beel had the bone thrown away and was chowing down on the meat like nothing ever happened so they dropped the subject soon enough...

He may not be as open about when he claims someone as the rest of his family but that's because when push comes to shove, who in their right mind would want to challenge Beel anyway...?

Belphegor

Nope. Nope. Nope nope nope, he's not having this. Not one bit.

Belphie lacks a lot of the good-natured patience of his twin... Chances are if there's something happening and he's not stopping it, it's just because putting up with it is the path of least resistance…

But there are always exceptions and those are usually reserved for the MC.

Strangers trying to get close or even imagining themselves being with MC really makes his blood boil… He knew them the most. He loved them the most. On just what grounds did some random moron think he could take his place?? Wishful thinking? Keep dreaming, buddy.

So, of course, he wasn't happy when he noticed some asshole staring at the MC like Beel does when he sees a havoc roast...

He kept his poker face up while he was with the MC, but he was devising a plan to take care of him the entire time… One he finally got the chance to enact once the MC went to the bathroom.

He's even better at going unnoticed than Levi, so sneaking his way over to the asshole was a piece of cake. He didn't notice until Belphie casually draped his arm around the guy's neck, hanging his clawed hand dangerously close to the scumbag's heart...

"Having a good time…?"

He could feel a shallow swallow against his arm as he began to slowly apply pressure to his trachea.

"I bet you were… and I was too until I saw you following us… Care to explain yourself?"

"I-I uh-Gah!"

The guy's voice gets cut off by Belphie's arm getting even tighter, the sharp tips of his claws drumming directly over the man's thundering heart.

"Ugh, that's what you actually sound like? Never mind, it's not worth knowing…" His fingers stopped drumming and slowly began to dig into his skin...

"I'm only going to say this once… If I ever see you tailing my human again, you won't be needing this-" his claws drilled a little deeper into his chest, "-anymore. Am I clear?"

The demon's head nodded as much as his strangled throat would allow and Belphie finally retracted his claws, wiping the blood off on the guy's shirt before letting him go. He fell forward onto all fours before attempting to scramble away as fast as he could...

Belphie watched him go with disinterest on his face, but satisfaction in his heart. Yet another threat to his human dealt with… And they could go back to enjoying their evening together. Alone. Just where his human belonged...

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #tw: yandere #tw: possessive behavior #tw: paralysis #tw: violence #tw: mentions of death

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devildomimagines · 3 years

Text

Lucifer Reacts to MC Getting in a Fight

Prelude

His anger is tangible, the aura around him is suffocating. He’s angry at you, he’s angry at his brothers, he’s angry at himself and it cycles and builds and escalates.

He doesn’t say anything for a few minutes, him in the doorway and you standing on the porch, shifting uncomfortable in his gaze and unsure what he was going to do. There was almost an urge to drop to your knees and beg forgiveness.

You knew him well enough that you knew he wouldn’t tolerate an excuse but you figured you should explain yourself. “I’m sorry, I got in a fight. The demon was bad-mouthing the exchange program and you’re always saying it’s success directly reflects on Lord Diavolo and I couldn’t let them slander his name nor talk about the other exchange students and your family like that.”

“Why weren’t you with someone or why didn’t you call someone?” Lucifer asked, his voice was too even for as much anger as you felt coming from him.

You laughed and looked away, “Uh, I bribed your brother to go home ahead of me hoping to prove I could handle myself and the demon’s friend must have thrown my backpack somewhere or they took it and it had my D.D.D. I was planning on going back tomorrow to look for it in the bushes or something.” You accepted you were going to be punished for both the fight and losing the only source of communication so you looked down at your feet, wincing at the sight of your scuffed knees.

It felt like forever but eventually Lucifer sighed and grabbed your arm to drag you inside. He brought you to his office, sat you in the desk chair and took out a box.

“A-aren’t you going to punish me?” You asked.

“Of course.” He answered while he dug around in the box, he found what he was looking for, a bottle and a cotton pad. “But we should tend to your injuries first. This is the correct concoction, correct?” He held the bottle out for you to read it was rubbing alcohol.

You nodded and gulped. You weren’t sure if he knew what he was doing but, of course, unconsciously Lucifer gravitated toward the more painful of treatments.

“Barbatos had these medicine kits made up for the exchange program. This is obviously the human version since you’re staying with us but there is an Angel version too.” Lucifer decided to share the fact as if he hadn’t been fuming at the door 2 minutes ago.

With a quick movement, Lucifer shrugged off his jacket, placed it on the desk and rolled up his sleeves. He soaked the cotton pad as if he had done it before. He grabbed your chin to force you to look at him. You gulped.

The moment the pad touched the scratch on your cheek you winced. Lucifer furrowed his brow.

“Sorry for flinching, it stings.” You closed your eyes and braced for the next touch, accepting the pain as a pseudo-punishment.

He sighed again, so you opened your eyes to watch him shake his head, “If you hadn’t gotten into a fight,” he started.

You shake your head no slightly while still in his grasp, “You wouldn’t have tolerated how they were disgracing Diavolo.”

“I hope you aren’t insinuating that I would stoop so low as to get into a literal schoolyard brawl with someone not worth my breath?”

You averted your eyes, “No, I guess not, sorry.”

Lucifer continued cleaning your facial injuries in silence. You closed your eyes to keep them from tearing up from the alcohol fumes. Lucifer was almost pouting as he wiped the blood on your chin from your split lip. He hoped none of your injuries scarred, it’d be a shame if it marred your face. For a moment Lucifer considered if he should use magic to heal your wounds but decided against it.

He delicately applied a bandage to the scratch on your cheek and applied a cold compress to the bump developing near your mouth and lip, “Hold this,” he commanded.

Your hand shot up to comply even without opening your eyes. He rolled his eyes once seeing your bruising knuckles. At least the skin hadn’t broken.

He knelt down to start cleaning your knees. The first touch of the cleaning pad surprised you and by reflex, you kicked out your leg, connecting with his shin.

He grunted and glared up at you. “Sorry!” You had moved your other hand to cover your mouth completely.

For the third time, he sighed as he went back to working. As soon as he could ensure that you would not get an infection he was going to lay into you, he was formulating his speech as he worked.

After both knees were bandaged, Lucifer started cleaning up the supplies and repacking the box.

“Thank you,” you offered quietly. He paused. “I really am sorry Lucifer, I didn’t mean to make trouble for you. It’s just when that demon would not stop talking about the exchange program, it made me angry that they would say such things about Lord Diavolo who has been very accommodating in so many ways.”

Lucifer looked over at you, you were focused on your fist in your lap.

“And when they started on about your family… the same family that’s shared their home with me and shown me nothing but kindness, something in me just flipped and I felt like I had to do something.”

This oh-so-fragile human thought they could take on a demon to protect his family’s name, he couldn’t stay mad at that, not that you would get out of your punishment.

“I appreciate the sentiment,” Lucifer conceded as he knelt down in front of you again, “but I do not appreciate you putting yourself in harm’s way,” he picked up your hand from your lap and your eyes followed as he kissed your tender knuckles. “What would we do if you suffered a worse defeat?”

“Wait, I didn’t lose!” you defended, “Some other demons separated us and they left with their tail between their legs!”

His pride tingled with delight, so this human could handle themselves, somewhat, “That’s reassuring,” he chuckled as he pushed himself back up to standing.

“So no punishment?” You asked again, looking hopeful as you stood as well.

“I love the baseless optimism. I hope you apply that to washing dishes for the next month.” You groaned and he couldn’t help but smile.

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #my writing

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theyanderespecialist · 2 years

Text

Their Succubus 2 (One Shot) Lucifer X Succubus Oc Marie X Lilith

[Hello My sexy readers am Back with Another Chapter I hope you all Enjoy this chapter and stay sexy!]

(Lilith's pov)

I watch as Marie walked up to the house as I gave a smile. I was beyond excited, in many ways. I motion for her to come in from the window as she walked inside as I assume the servants lead her in as the door opened and she popped her head in

"Am I-I disturbing yo-" She was cut off seeing me naked and dripping in arousal and I pull Marie in and kiss her right on the lips.

(Nope just goes right into it XD also meanwhile Lucifer is sitting in a chair fapping away XD)

(XD)

I hold her as her eyes widen before she grabbed me as I worried, I knew perhaps asking would be better (yes, you should ask XD) however she kissed back.

I smiled and kiss her deeply and lifted her up in my arms and she wraps her legs around my hips. I smile at that, holding her in my arms tightly as her hands run through my hair. I smiled and lay back on the bed and let her fall on me. Wrapping my legs around her rubbing myself into her.

She let out a moan as she gripped onto me, her eyes shut as she rubbed back, her movements were rather all over the place, but it was that new kind of energy that made it fun. I smiled and pull away kissing down her neck.

She let out a soft moan. "A-Are you sure we should d-do this? What about--" "don't worry about it dear, I think he'll be alright." I said into her neck.

She smiles and wraps her arms around my neck pulling me in another kiss. I smiled as I remove her skirt and panties as she pulled off her shirt, tossing it to the side with little care as she looked down at me, her face a deep purple.

She was in nothing but her stocking and garters and heels and bra now~ I smirked and flipped us over. She looked at me her eyes went wide for a split second before she smirked.

"Well, you seem even more excited than me~" she purred out. "I thought you'd have more self control given your age." She said, I knew she was teasing and didn't mean it to hurt my feelings. "Mmm..I see that mouth of yours still is the same."

(...Marie a bit of a brat xD look she grew up in hell xD and hangs out with other succubi, she's normally super sweet but..she can get a little bratty and tease every now and then)

(XD)

"Don't tease me love~" I say. "Or I have to punish you~"

She looked up as me, and seemed to be looking at my fave before she smirked. "You know..I'm glad I didn't marry, you've become boring since then." She said.

(ohhh girl you gonna make mommy mad jk but also..)

"Marie~" I warn

"I mean what happen to the risk taker I knew~ now your plain vanilla." She says

"last warning Marie~"

"alright..all km saying is..you probably fuck in the missionary position." (Oh those are fighting words xD to tell any sort of succubus or the mother of the succubi and incubi that they only fuck in the missionary position for reproduction only xD or anyone for that matter xD)

(XD)

(also..she can't talk xD her man left her because she didn't Reay have sex xD like ever. XD handjobs aren't adventurous Marie xD)

I growled and pinned her to the bed hand cuffing her ankles and wrist to bed so she is spread eagle~

Her face went purple but she still had that smug little smile on her face. "aw what's wrong Lil~?" She asked. Oh I can't wait until all that comes out of her mouth are moans and her begging for me~

I get on her face and lean into her pussy licking her~

"You better start locking or I will spank your pussy."

(you hear her Marie xD get licking xD)

(XD)

I feel her let out a Shaky breathe at my words before she slowly starts licking at my pussy. I smirked and started eating before out as well. She moaned into me as I felt her tongue lapping at me, she really was inexperienced, but her energy more than made up for it~ I cry out already so close and in need but I could go longer as I take her clit in my mouth. She cried out at that as she tensed when she actually squirted when she came her legs shaking against the binds as she didn't stop licking at me even during her orgasm.

I came as well hard and then pulled away from her just as my husband makes himself known.

"That was quite the show but I think it is time I joined~" He purred.

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS Another chapter done I hope you all enjoy this chapter and stay sexy everyone!]

#yandere #yandere lilith magne #yandere lucifer magne #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere one shot #one shot #hazbin hotel #lucifer magne #lucifer magne x oc #lucifer magne x marie #lucifer magne x oc x lilith #lilith #lilith hazbin hotel #lilith magne #lilith magne hazbin hotel #lilith x oc #lilith x marie #marie #marie oc

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mlm-writer · 3 years

Text

Choke Me Like You Hate Me, But You Love Me (Lucifer x M!Reader)

Pairing: Dom Top Lucifer Morningstar x Sub Bottom Male Reader (trans-friendly) Rating: Explicit Words: 1559 POV: Second Summary: You tell Lucifer about your choking fantasy and he teaches you proper etiquette, before actually choking you in bed. Notes: If nobody is going to tell the youth these days how to properly choke someone, I will. Also can be read by anyone who likes being called a boy. (Handsome/baby boy). Genitals and chest area are unspecified. Tags: No beta we die like men, choking, consent talk, kink discussion, reader is a nervous wreck, penetrative sex (anal or vaginal), things go wrong when you try something for the first time and that’s ok

Sweat gathered on your hands as you stood in the elevator. You rubbed them off on your jeans, right before the doors opened and you were greeted with the wide smile of your boyfriend. “Hello,” he greeted you, suit impeccable as ever and a glass of scotch in each hand.

“Oh you always know exactly what I need,” you sighed as you took one glass and downed it for some courage. As you wiped a drip of scotch off the corner of your lips with your thumb, your eyes locked with the concerned ones of your man. “What?”

He gently took the glass from you and put it with his full one on the bar. “Rough day?” He asked with a furrowed brow. You shook your head and walked over to the couch.

“No, not at all. Great, actually, I had a great day!” You plopped down, leaning against the backrest. “It’s just... We need to talk and I don’t think I’m ready to say this, but I promised myself to say it today and I don’t want to say it, but I have to or I will never say it!” Your hands flew in the air as anxiety settled in your chest.

In a flash, Lucifer was at your side, taking your hands gently into his. “Hey, hey, deep breaths, handsome.” You followed along with his breathing, calming down a little as you saw how much he cared about you. His eyes spoke books with just a single glance. “Whatever it is, you can tell me. Unless you want to leave me of course, I simply can’t have that.”

You laughed at his joke and shook your head. “No it’s not something like that. It is just embarrassing.” Lucifer made a noise to indicate his interest as he crossed his legs and leaned with one arm on the beckrest. He looked at you with expecting eyes and a shit-eating grin. “I hate you.” He chuckled and shrugged. “No, really, I really do, I hate you and that shit eating grin so much I… I’ve been thinking about you choking me while we fuck.”

Lucifer stopped abruptly with laughing and looked at you with wide eyes. You stared back at him like a deer in headlights. “What?” He asked.

You didn’t wait for a second, before giving him your ingenious reply. “What?”

“Did you just say…”

“Don’t make me repeat myself, please.” “Oh but you will.”

He leaned closer to you an even wider grin on his face and you wanted to low key punch it off. “What did you say, darling?”

You whined and looked away from him. “I want you to choke me! Okay! I said it! I saw you at the precinct the other day and you were choking that criminal against a wall and it got me really hot and bothered, there! I said it! Now please don’t make me say it again.” Lucifer laughed and pulled you into a hug as you covered your heated face.

“Oh baby boy, you just had to say it. I will gladly choke you,” he mused as he swayed you a little. The tension left your body as he didn’t seem to be shocked or judgemental at all. You did not expect differently, but you were still embarrassed to talk about things like this. You never really had a relationship where you could talk so openly about what you did and did not like in the bedroom. “So, have you ever been choked before?”

You looked up at him and shook your head. He gave an understanding nod and stood up. Lucifer brought back two steaming cups of tea and you both sat yourselves down at the opposite ends of the couch, slightly turned so you could look at each other and you could focus your eyes on your cup, were things getting too awkward. “You want me to choke you when I’m inside you, correct?” You nodded. “Okay, how hard do you want it? I could safely make you pass out if you want to.”

That kind of scared you and you cleared your throat to speak up. “Uh gently, please. I want to feel it, but I don’t want to think I may die.” Lucifer smiled with understanding and nodded, before blowing his tea a little.

“How often do you want me to do it?” “I have not really thought about that… at least once?”

“Ok then we will see if it seems appropriate to do it again after the first time.”

You both nodded and a little awkwardness spread over the silence between you two, as you took a careful sip of the hot tea. “Well if it gets too much, just snap your fingers and I’ll stop.” You nodded in confirmation, letting the devil take the lead. “Do you know how to chose someone?”

You shook your head. “I mean it is pretty straight forward, right?” Lucifer sighed and put his mug on the coffee table, before taking yours and putting it next to his. He gestured you closer and you both scooted towards the middle of the couch. His warm fingers moved towards your neck and rested just below your jawline. He felt around, before settling his fingers somewhere.

“I’m going to apply some pressure, see if you think it feels comfortable.” You hummed and Lucifer squeezes gently on either side of your esophagus.

“I can still breathe,” you murmured as he held you.

Lucifer let go of you and chuckled. “That’s the point, darling. You didn’t think I was supposed to crush your windpipe, did you?” You looked away. “Oh dearie, you did…” He cleared his throat before turning your head back to him with a single finger on your jawline. “Choking,” he stared as his fingers slowly went back to your neck, “is not about depriving you of oxygen.” With his other hand, he grabbed yours and brought a finger to where his thumb rested on your neck. As he pressed your finger against your own skin, you could feel your pulse. “Instead, I am restricting the oxygen from going to your brain by blocking the arteries in your neck.”

“Oh.” He chuckled at your reaction and let your hand go, which dropped back into your lap. Lucifer continued repeatedly squeezing and releasing, checking in with you to figure out the right pressure and place. It took a good hour at least and your tea had gotten cold on the table. “I think we got it down,” you breathed out as Lucifer let go of you again.

“How so?” Lucifer questioned in a teasing tone. You took his hand and slid it inside your pants and underwear. A devilish grin morphed onto his lips. “Oh, I think you may be right, darling.”

-----

Lucifer wanted you, before his fingers found their place on your neck again. His cock was at your opening and as he slid inside your wet hole, he squeezed firmly. At first you didn’t notice it much, but then after a few seconds, you felt a pressure in your head. You breathed heavily as Lucifer slowly fucked you with his hand on your neck. When your eyes rolled a little, Lucifer let go and you gasped. The haze at the edges of your vision disappeared and you could breathe freely again as he lifted your legs up and nearly folded you in half before going to pound town. You let out a long moan as he made you feel good with his cock.

“Do it again,” you whined and he spread your legs. Lucifer’s pace did not relent as his hand reached for your throat. You lifted your head up to give him better access. Your hands rested on the back of your legs, keeping yourself open for him. “Thank you,” you moaned as that same haze came back to you. Lucifer held you longer this time and you loved it, until things started to get too hazy and the fear dropped like a bucket of ice water over your body. You scratched at his arm, trying to get him off you. It took a second for Lucifer to notice and let go. He slipped out of you as you rolled away and bent over, gasping for air. You sucked in air, regaining clarity with each passing second. When you were finally clear-minded again, you noticed the glass held out for you. You took the water from Lucifer’s hand and drank half of it, before putting it on the night stand.

“Are you all right, love?” You nodded and lied down on your back. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have held you that long, but you seemed to enjoy it.”

“I did, I just… Suddenly didn't… Sorry I totally forgot to just snap my fingers.” You eyed the red scratches on his arm. Lucifer smiled and waved it off.

He lied down next to you and held your hand. “Could happen. It was your first time after all. Want to wait a little and then try again or are you done for tonight?”

You shrugged and moved closer to him to rest your head on his shoulder. “Can we just lie here for a little, before I decide?”

Lucifer put his arm around you and hummed. He gently placed a kiss on your head. “Of course, whatever my handsome boy needs.”

#lucifer #Lucifer Morningstar #lucifer x reader #lucifer smut #lucifer one shot #Lucifer x male reader #lucifer x trans male reader #bottom reader #trans male reader #trans reader #male reader #x male reader #lemon

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mothergayselle · 3 years

Text

I Said... Hold Still // Obey Me // MC x Lucifer

rating: t words: 3.5k summary: takes place during the furry event, MC does the boys’ makeup for the video but takes *special care* with lucifer’s

xxx

“Stop squirming, Levi. You’re going to smear everything and then I’m going to get mad.”

Leviathan blushed, visibly racked with the desire to fidget in the chair. “I can’t help it,” he said, crossing and uncrossing his ankles, which clunked into hers. “You’re so close to my face.”

A scoff audibly sounded off in the background, and the unmistakable tenor of Mammon’s voice filled the dining room.

“Yeah. A little too close, eh? Back off, Levi!”

Freya sighed. As long as Levi’s face was scrunched with annoyance, it’d be impossible to apply any more makeup to it. She paused, her hand a patient dove hovering in the air, coasting, while Levi replied.

“I’m not doing anything! You back off, stupid scumbag!”

“Hey! Ya gotta stop callin’ me that! Or else!”

“Or else, what? What are you going to do to me?”

The demon-princes were scattered throughout the entirety of the ornate, elaborate dining room, yet the collective sigh uttered by every mouth was a palpable hurricane churning in the air above them. A violent, fiery blush creeped into Levi’s neck, and Freya stilled her hand once more as he ducked his head in embarrassment.

She had to force herself not to sigh herself. “Relax, Levi. I’m not going to attack you.”

“Yes, hun, but that he wishes you would is the point,” said a voice from the opposite corner. A slash of daylight pierced through the window in front of him, illuminating the slender curve of his body. Even in that ridiculous costume. Asmodeus.

“If you know what I mean,” he finished. Freya didn’t have to look to know he was probably winking at them. The sunlight did nothing to illuminate the dripping sin of his voice.

Freya ignored the fresh wave of blood washing over Levi’s face, deepening the red even further. All that was needed was a quick blending of the brow-powder, and he’d be done, though if these idiots kept on rambling she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to get him to hold still.

Even now, he seemed to vibrate in place, although he managed to keep himself in place enough to refrain from fidgeting. Freya worked as fast as possible, working as casually as she could without smudging the lines. If they could keep their mouths shut for once in their goddamn life--

“If what you mean is kissing, then yes. We do get what you mean. Levi, at least attempt to not think about it.”

xxx

read on AO3

xxx

…..

SATAN, you motherFU--

“No one is kissin’ ANYONE, do ya hear me!?”

“Oo-oh, how scandalous!! I want to see someone kiss!”

“Okay, tell me I didn’t wake up from a nap just to hear about Freya kissing someone!”

“Relax, Belphie. No one is kissing.”

“Ya damn straight, no one is kissing. Not ever! If Freya is kissin’ anyone it’s gonna be m--”

“Me! It’d be me! After all, who wouldn’t want to kiss me?”

“Enough.”

As Lucifer silenced the room, Freya shot Satan a glare, who returned the gesture with a grin so warm you’d never know how on purpose that truly was. What an arsonist. Truly. It was practically art.

The dining room was momentarily cast in shadow -- Freya looked beyond a mortified Levi to see a thick wall of cloud oozing across the sky. A frown tugged the corners of her lips down.

“All right, you lot,” said Lucifer. His voice crawled into the spaces around them like congealed molasses. “Clear out. Diavolo wants to start shooting as soon as possible.”

The most awkward of silences left the dining room charged and heavy, and all but Levi and Lucifer started towards the main hall.

Meanwhile, Freya wanted to be conscientious of his personal boundaries -- as he so often said he didn’t like to be touched -- but Freya wasn’t just about to let Levi leave after that.

“Hey, look up for me one more time before you go.”

She and Lucifer made zero comments about how dark his skin had become in embarrassment -- magenta would be too fitting for comfort. Freya, in her peripherals, saw how Lucifer pretended to preen himself in a corner away from them, adjusting and then readjusting his feline costume so it couldn’t possibly fall any straighter or more crisp on the lines of his body.

Levi complied, absolutely rock-frozen as he titled his eyes to the ceiling. Even the inner workings of his jaw were inert with strain.

“Did you know,” Freya began, dabbing ice-silver highlighter to his waterline, “That giraffes throw up on a regular basis?”

She was momentarily met with silence as Levi made himself unclench his teeth. “Giraffes?”

“Mhm. An animal in the human realm. Really long neck. Think of a horse with a snake-neck.”

“Whoa. That sounds like a final boss or something. If their neck is so long, how do they not suffocate then?”

It was working -- his skin was clearing of blush, returning to a lovely cream-shade which she always thought brought out the gold in his eyes so well. Freya, in an effort to dispel some of his shame, didn’t meet his eyes when they gazed at her out of curiosity. She prodded the outside corner of his eye with the same highlighter, tapping the glimmer into place.

“Well… that’s what I wanted to know, so I researched it for awhile. They have a bunch of spaces in their stomach so as they digest food, they puke it up into their mouth and then eat it all over again. Bizarre, right?”

Levi’s subsequent grin made itself onto her face as well, though she was careful to still avoid his direct gaze. And, was that Lucifer’s cheeks lifted in the over corner over there, or was that her own imagination?

“That sounds like Beel,” he said, beaming at her.

“They were my favorite animal for awhile after that, just because I would always laugh when I thought of it. In an environmental class back home we studied this, and as soon as it was brought up, I just couldn’t stop laughing. I got kicked out of class.”

“OMG,” Levi said. “That is hilarious! LOLOL, like, I totally would’ve lost it too.”

“It’s ridiculous. But it does make me smile, even to this day. Maybe it’ll help you too now.”

Levi’s answer was something soft in his eyes, like a window being opened.

Freya snapped the ridiculously expensive highlighter palette closed, absentmindedly making a note to somehow manipulate Asmo into getting her one just like it.

She tried to refrain from kissing anyone in the academy but that palette… perhaps kissing was not beneath her after all...

“‘Kay. You’re good to go!”

The clogged energy tangibly evaporated as they both righted themselves in the chairs, widening the amount of space between them. Levi didn’t look fully recovered -- his movements were a little too fast, a bit too premature.

However, as he stood up to join the others, the dread from earlier wasn’t etched onto the crevices of his face, and he smiled before heading out the door.

“Thanks, Freya! Seriously.” He dashed through the entryway, the joyful spring under his feet practically palpable.

The next breath was drawn in through the nose. Freya turned to the impromptu makeup station Asmodeus had set up for her earlier in the morning once more.

“Okay, lurker,” she called out. “Sit your butt down before I decide I don’t want to do this anymore and set fire to the building so Diavolo will send me away.”

The waxed, polished, impeccable hardwood floors clapped his shoes in greeting with every intentional footfall. Even from the side while she retrieved more eyeshadow, she could see the grimace on his mouth. He was staring straight through her.

“Not funny.”

Freya couldn’t help but grin as she swiveled the chair to face him.

“It was funny, but we both know you wouldn’t admit it even if you agreed so let’s get to business, shall we?” Freya held up a pen of liquid eyeliner for him to see.

Lucifer made no further comment, but she could’ve sworn his jaw looked like it wanted to come undone in a smile, just for a second. He nodded, burgundy eyes locked onto her face.

“Scoot closer. This always sucks the most.”

When he complied, their legs were utterly entangled, each thigh resting lightly against the other’s. Freya didn’t stop or make a comment -- she knew the rules of the game with him and wasn’t going to lose because of that.

If anything, the contact excited her. She’d be close enough to catch any reaction he made, scrutinize every inch of his visage for a sign of victory. When one edge of his mouth lazily pulled to the side in the faintest smirk she’d ever seen, an impish gesture, she knew he was on the same wavelength.

Freya leaned in, closing the distance between their faces until the warm billows of his breath collided gently over her cheeks.

“Don’t mind me,” she said, bringing a hand to cup the cheek opposite the eye she was going to start on. “I have to steady myself because I had a lot of coffee this morning and I can feel myself about to have a seizure.”

Lucifer did smile at that, and she mirrored him as her fingers slipped through the hair at the back of his head. Silk. Fresh rain. A bubble of clouds. There didn’t seem to be a description accurate enough to articulate the softness of each strand. Her palm came to rest on his jaw.

The dick part of her wanted to ask what kind of conditioner he used, to purposely destroy the playful tension, if only to mitigate the effect the intimacy had on her. It was certainly a go-to, and she had half a mind to blurt it out when his expression suddenly changed.

“That was kind of you,” Lucifer murmured, and she could practically feel the heat of his red gaze wash through her, “What you did for Levi. Comforting him so as to not embarrass him further.”

An unwanted softness expanded in the pit of her belly and her hand momentarily haltered all movement. She drew back to look at him, and felt her waggish expression melt into something more like his own.

Freya’s gaze tugged down at their legs, spidered out in a flamboyant web of limbs. “I’m all for a good roast, but they should be more mindful with how often they pick on him. He already has super bad self-esteem.”

Lucifer grimaced as pain, sympathetic, cracked across her face. “That he does.”

“Makes me want to punch him,” she mumbled, almost inaudibly. Exhaling, Freya lifted the eyeliner pen to Lucifer once more, tracing a thin cat-eye along the edge of his lashes.

“If he says that he’s too gross to love one more time, I will use our pact to make him do daily affirmations until he stops. I’m not above that.”

It was a while before Lucifer reacted to that, and a few moments of silence soothed the spaces around them. When he seemed to smile, Freya kept wordless and leaned in further, cleaning up the sharp edge of the wing at his eye. If she leaned in any further, her lips would brush across his cheek. Adrenaline flooded her belly.

“Not the worst way to exploit your authority, I suppose.”

“Hell yeah. Call me the demon-whisperer, improving internal dialogue one Avatar at a time.”

She withdrew her hand just in time -- Lucifer’s cheeks avalanched in the expansion of a smile, twisting his mouth until the ivory-white of his teeth was exposed. Another grin, another victory.

“Sounds like quite the endeavor.”

“Quite right, Watson. Okay, done with that,” Freya said, ignoring his momentary confusion and scooting herself back to the pile of makeup. She exchanged the eyeliner for a pastel palette before picking up a small, fluffy brush.

“All Diavolo wanted was a mutuality between species, and here you are trying to rehabilitate the princes of Hell into developing a more healthy sense of self,” he mused.

Lucifer’s warm eyes lowered and tracked Freya’s movements as she closed in and began dabbing at his eyelids with a pale lavender color, which accentuated the darkness of his burgundy irises so nicely it was obscene.

Did she look as beautiful to him as he did to her?

“Oh, dear,” he chuckled. “Where did you go?”

It was just then that Freya realized she hadn’t been applying the makeup on him so much as she was staring at it.

“What’s wrong? Did the artistry of your own handiwork distract you?” His full lips twisted into a more mocking version of his earlier grin.

“Or is it simply my natural beauty you find so interesting?”

A low, humming laugh churned in the bottom of his throat as Freya’s nose wrinkled itself at him.

“Actually, I was just thinking that if this film wins first place, the entire Devildom will be witness to you and all of your furry glory.”

All of the mirth fled from Lucifer’s face as she spoke. Dark strands of aura collected around the crown of his head before winking out of existence.

“It’s an exciting thought, right?”

When his eyelids lowered, Freya leaned back in, blending in a blue pastel with the first. The air around him sizzled with tension that dripped off of his body. “As the film stands, there is almost a statistical impossibility that it will win the competition,” he drawled. So confident.

“So, basically, it’s a non-issue.”

“You really believe Diavolo -- or Barbatos for that matter -- who are obsessed with this project, couldn’t or wouldn’t pull strings in our favor?” The hand on his jaw exploded with invisible flame as she shifted it for no other reason than she wanted to--

Lucifer froze. Freya pretended to be absorbed in her work and readjusted her fingers -- a mere twitch of the extremity -- slipping several of them in the hollow under his ear while anchoring her thumb so that the pad of the fingertip framed the corner of his mouth.

A triumphant fanfare burst in her head. She got him, caught him off-guard. Enchanted him. The world was correct once more.

“Diavolo is a noble man,” she started, sweeping away the fallout with her knuckles. She caressed the soft skin under his eyes gently, with care. “But men like him -- the ones who proclaim to uphold truth and transparency…”

Lucifer did not move, even as she playfully tapped the tip of his nose with the makeup brush.

“Those are the ones you can’t trust.”

A few short moments passed before Lucifer spoke again.

“I don’t know what demons you’ve been hanging around,” he began, leaning forward an inch. “But some of us are perfect gentlemen.”

He was playing with her.

Do not look at his lips, do not look at his lips.

The brush in her hand lowered as Freya also leaned in, matching Lucifer’s bluff, and the crimson glow of his eyes was soon all she could see, rather than the eyes themselves.

“I’ve only met one perfect gentleman in my entire life. He was a golden retriever.”

She saw the curve of his eyes when he smirked.

“You clearly need better friends.”

“How fortunate I was kidnapped and brought here, then.”

“How fortunate, indeed.”

“Hey, are you guys going to kiss?”

The shock of the intrusion jolted both Lucifer and Freya, nearly pressing them together, so… maybe?

Lucifer recovered first, smoothly straightening in his chair like a candle wick burning true.

“What do you want, Asmo?”

Of course it was Asmo.

When Freya settled, returning the makeup brush to the tray, she saw Asmodeus hovering in the dining room’s entrance, the gold of his hair casting ethereal arcs of color across the archway.

His eyes were wide with curiosity. “Well, first, I want to see you kiss, but I also came to tell you Diavolo wants to start filming now.” Asmo’s gaze flickered back and forth between them.

“Tell Diavolo we’re on our way,” Lucifer said, saying nothing of the lewd request. After a tense moment and a hard glare, Asmo drifted off, the whites of his eyes revealed in an impressive arc.

“He realizes he can just kiss people, right?”

She couldn’t help but grin at the blank expression coating over Lucifer’s visage.

“He realizes,” Lucifer said. “It seems as if voyeurism is a big interest of his, however.”

Freya accidentally snorted. “I don’t know what isn’t.”

“Manners, perhaps.”

Someone sighed. Freya wasn’t sure if it was her or Lucifer. Eventually, the two shared a glance and his eyebrows rose in question.

“Is my makeup adequate enough for filming?” The brows remained high on his forehead, now teasing more than anything else.

Freya instinctively raked his features, looking for any asymmetrical flaws or lopsided shadow. There was nothing but a fleeting suspicion that it was only Lucifer’s immaculate complexion which completed the makeup, rather than the other way around. He wore the makeup, rather than the makeup highlighting the beauty already there. How ridiculous.

“One more thing, actually.”

The lazy affect warped into confusion, narrowing his features, and then awe, expanding them back again. Freya had darted in the space between their bodies, one finger somehow already dipped into a cherry-colored lip stain, and she began tapping the pigment onto Lucifer’s bottom lip, ignoring the way his mouth parted with shock.

“To match your eyes.”

He remained silent while he composed himself, drawing back his eyebrows and lips to a close. Freya forced her face to remain stoic -- the relish of eliciting these kinds of reactions was a special sort of drug, but to keep him playing along, she had to forfeit a few her victories to soften the blow to his ego. Demon of Pride and all. She was more than happy to keep up with him. Her giant ego demanded it.

As if he could hear her thoughts, Lucifer probed her gaze with his own, scrutinizing the miniscule movements her every facial feature made, but she gave away nothing. He was content to hold still until she was finished with him, smiling politely, the warmth not touching his eyes.

“And none for yourself?” he chirped.

Freya’s gaze darted to the makeup tray at her side, but a warm hand had gripped her chin and forced her head back to Lucifer. A swarm of butterflies awoke in her diaphragm.

“You dote on all of us so much,” he pronounced slowly, casually, bringing his thumb to his mouth. “But it seems as if you are often left wanting, isn’t that right?”

Heat so hot it was ice overturned her nervous system, bringing it to a halt. “It isn’t that bad. Beel buys me food. Asmo gives me clothes. Luke and Barbatos bake me whatever I want.”

Freya frantically attempted to memorize the feeling of his thumb brushing over her lips. Did he feel this tense when she’d done this, like a worn outlet ready to spark? She waited until he was satisfied to speak.

“I’d say I have it pretty good.”

Lucifer smirked, clearly unconvinced. He reached over her, grabbing a wipe from the table and cleaning his hand. Their faces were momentarily close once again, and the cologne from his neck wafted over her skin. So rich, like sandalwood, but faint at the same time. Noncommittal. It was a perfect scent for him.

When his gaze lowered to her mouth and back up again, she thought her form would explode.

“Hm. I’m not sure all of that’s an equal exchange, though.” He stared at her in bewilderment.

“... What?” Suddenly, she was too conscious of herself. Why did he look at her like that? Was he unsatisfied with the color or something?

She heard the roll of his stool before registering he’d placed his palms on her shoulders. They felt like boulders and feathers and as if they should be there all the time, keeping her from floating away in her wild fantasies of abandoning the human world so she could stay there forever. It was just like giraffes. Ridiculous… right?

“Your hair.”

Eh?

Lucifer’s eyes were sure and steady as they raked over her again and again.

“It should be down for the fight scene. When you faint, it should cover your face, create some symbolism there.”

… Interesting. She didn’t know he thought about details like that. Wasn’t this more of Asmo’s territory? Still, Lucifer had a point. She’d only braided that morning because it was convenient, getting too long and too curly for comfort.

“How dramatic,” she replied, chuckling at his sincerity. “You’re right, though. Obscuring the face makes a much bigger statement to the audience. Creates lots of tension.”

Lucifer’s knees knocked against hers, two entities floating alone in the ocean, and he moved his hands to the hair-ties at the end of her french braids.

They were dexterous, slipping off the rubber and untangling the curls without tugging on a single one. Goosebumps seeped through her skin, giving her a full-body euphoria.

If she was being honest, even this simple gesture had her feeling pampered, taken care of. It resembled nothing of the food or retail items she was frequently gifted with, although those were of course, appreciated.

No, this was like... communion. A merging of two. Freya found that she couldn’t muster a smirk or a smart-ass retort as Lucifer slipped his fingers through her hair, arranging it in perfect pieces that cascaded over her jaw. She felt she wanted to sleep instead. Take a nap. Fall asleep to the sensation of him there, soothing her into unconsciousness.

Ah. Any feeling of victory disappeared in an instant. This was too close to real intimacy to be a game.

Lucifer adjusted the curls one final time before gently extracting himself from her space. There wasn’t any trace of mischief on his face either, or deception, or avarice.

She caught herself absently grooming herself of invisible lint or stray hair in the moments after. It seems as if their communion was finished, and they were to get on with their mission for the day.

“Well,” Freya said, steadily rising to her feet. She extended a hand in his direction. “Ready to go to war over me?”

Lucifer’s subsequent smile radiated mirth. “Of course.” He curled his fingers around her palm and rose to face her.

“I always defend what is mine. To the death.”

An unexpected giggle erupted from him at the shock rapidly freezing her expression.

“I’m joking, Freya. I’m ready. Let’s do it.”

Lucifer jesting? How novel.

With her hand in his, they began making their way out of the dining room. The sun was out -- its light had finally defeated the storm clouds before it.

“Call me Helen, I guess.”

Their voices ricocheted off the elaborate carvings etched into the doorway.

“... You know the story of Troy, ri--”

“--Yes, Freya, I get the referen--”

“--Okay, cool. That would’ve been weird. I hate explaining jokes.”

#obey me #lucifer #mc x lucifer #shall we date #writing #fanfiction #mine #obey me lucifer #obey me levi #lucifer x reader #shall we date? obey me!

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there-must-be-a-lock · 3 years

Text

Night Crawling

Sam x Reader

Word Count: ~3350

Warnings: Some explicit smutty goodness in a dive bar bathroom, some recreational drug use, some Sam feels.

A/N: I really thought I was going to write PWP for once. As usual, some feels snuck in. Set at some vague point in Season 5.

I’ve had the new Miley Cyrus album on repeat all day; inspiration, title, and bathroom graffiti quote all came from “Night Crawling.” Listen to that and “Gimme What I Want” if you want maximum ~atmosphere~ or whatever while reading.

“Another?” Sam asks, leaning in to make himself heard over the music. He gives me a twisted, wicked version of his usual dimpled smile. There’s a drop of tequila clinging to his lip, and I want to lick it off. He’s so close.

My head is still spinning from the last shot and from his attention. I shake it off.

“Bathroom, I’ll be back,” I tell him.

Sam’s in a fucking mood tonight. Not that I blame him. Time is ticking away, faster by the day it feels like; if Lucifer was after me, I’d take whatever escape I could get.

Dean’s at the motel, hopefully putting some ice on his twisted ankle or maybe sleeping, and normally Sam would be fussing over him like an overgrown fucking mother hen. Instead, he suggested that we go “blow off some steam,” looking at me with this glint in his eyes, like he was daring me.

So… here we are, getting fucked up in a grimy rock club, watching some Nine Inch Nails wannabes wail like a porn soundtrack over a dirty industrial bassline.

Sam fucking Winchester. Always full of surprises.

It’s one of those single-occupancy dive bathrooms where I don’t want to touch anything or, like, inhale too hard. It’s impossible to tell what color the walls originally were under the layers of concert flyers and graffiti. There’s probably enough cocaine residue on the chipped porcelain sink counter to get an elephant high. That kind of place.

He wants me almost as much as I want him, I’m pretty sure, but I never thought either of us would act on it. Too many complications, too many ways to fuck it all up… now, though? The entire world is fucked. Might as well get laid before it all goes to shit.

Two lines of red Sharpie scrawl next to the mirror grab my attention: night crawling, sky falling, gotta listen when the Devil’s calling.

Yeah. Well.

I don’t think either of us will make it out of this alive, but he doesn’t want to. That’s what this is all about, really. He started this apocalypse. He’ll never forgive himself if he lives through it. I’ll never forgive him if he doesn’t.

I wash my hands and splash some water on my cheeks, bracing myself. I can feel the chemicals kicking up my spine, now.

If Sam fucking Winchester needs to indulge his self-destructive streak and get out of his head for a night, I’ll keep him company. Fuck knows I’ll never say no to him. I’ll stay with him til the end, if he lets me.

It hits me again: this is the end. The world is about to end, and that sweet, sexy, puppy-eyed motherfucker out there is at the center of all of it. Heaven, hell, good, evil… and Sam. If tonight is what we’ve got — if this is all we’ll ever get — I’ll take it. I’ve always wanted more, but… this’ll do. It’ll have to do.

He’s slouching against the wall, right outside the bathroom hallway. He gives me this dark, hungry grin when he sees me, and maybe whatever was in that pastel blue pill is making itself known, or maybe it’s just Sam that’s sending a wave of prickly heat over my skin… either way, it feels good.

“C’mon,” he says, passing me a cup of ice water, and then he’s gripping me by the wrist, pulling me into the crowd.

Sam doesn’t dance, and he sure as hell doesn’t dance with me, but he’s not fucking around: hands on my waist, hair falling in his eyes as he looks down at me, cheeks flushed, moving with the beat. I rest my free hand on his upper arm, right where the swell of his bicep flexes against the soft cotton sleeve of his t-shirt, and I can’t help but squeeze slightly, feeling hot skin and muscle under my palm. I swallow hard.

Sam leans in closer. I can smell him, the natural scent of his sweat under the spice of his deodorant, and it’s so overwhelming that I shiver.

He gets his lips right up against my ear, the deep rumble of his voice a physical thing that I can feel as well as hear: “Ever just get sick of being yourself?”

Jesus.

“Yeah,” I mumble, mouth dry. I don’t know if he hears me but it doesn’t really matter.

“I think too much. I don’t want to think tonight. Is that okay?”

I suck in a breath. “Don’t need to explain, Sam. I get it.”

“Yeah?” he asks, heavy-lidded, golden skin shining with sweat in the flecks of light coming off the disco ball. “Dance with me.”

“Yeah. Yeah, Sam, anything you want.”

I toss back the cup of water, gulping it down, too eager; some of it trickles down my chin. I don’t care. I drop the cup and run my hand up Sam’s chest. His eyes flutter closed and he licks his lips, sinful, gorgeous. For a moment I think he might say something but instead he spins me around and hauls me closer, my back to his chest.

The song is filthy, all thudding funk hooks and wild drums. There’s this frantic heat behind it that has me sinking under the surface, swimming through the riff, and the pulse of it wriggles down my spine and works itself out through my hips as I toss my head. It’s the kind of rhythm that’s made for sweating all over a stranger.

Sam might as fucking well be a stranger right now. I never knew he could move like this.

His hips swivel and twist, and his hands slide down to my thighs, pinning me against the solid muscled heat of his body. I feel reckless. I feel high and overstimulated and utterly fearless, and I can feel his touch echoing through me, inside me, throbbing down my belly to where I’m empty and suddenly aching.

As soon as I think about it, the emptiness hits me hard. My cunt is clenching around nothing in time with the gritty slap of percussion. I arch my back and rub myself against Sam shamelessly.

He’s hard against my ass, hard and getting harder with every shrieking lick of guitar, and the awareness of it sends a thrill down through the core of me, like a bolt of lightning striking between my legs. My breath catches and hisses out of my lungs like I’m a punctured balloon. I feel dizzy.

It’s all so intense right now. Every inch of my skin is fizzing, and the simple curl of his fingers around my wrist has me shuddering like he’s stroking something much more intimate.

On any other night I would try to step back, to get myself under control… I’d start thinking, and I wouldn’t be able to stop, and I’d get stuck in my head instead of giving in to the mind-blowingly intimate thrill of his fingertips pressing into my pulse.

We’re not thinking tonight. I couldn’t think straight even if I wanted to.

The beat changes, segueing into something low and slinking and goddamn obscene. I’m dripping with sweat — mine or Sam’s? I can’t tell — and my skin is on fire, and I want Sam in this awful, all-consuming way that I’ve never wanted anything or anyone.

So I don’t think about it; I just turn, twisting in his arms until we’re face to face, or rather, face to chest. He’s biting his lip, expression almost pained as he grips my waist and slots a thigh between mine. I snake my arms around his neck and roll my hips, feeling the seam of my jeans dragging up the sensitive spot between my legs, and I’m absurdly grateful for the way the music drowns out any embarrassing noise I might make.

There’s a drop of sweat sliding down the corded muscle of his neck. It trickles to a glittering halt right at eye level, in the hollow of his throat, and I can see his Adam's apple bob as he swallows. I could fall down and worship whatever god invented the v-neck.

I don’t fall to my knees, but I do lean forward and taste his skin. Salt floods my tongue.

Sam’s hand runs up my back, cups the nape of my neck, and he doesn’t so much guide me as yank, tilting my head to meet the rough urgent sting of his teeth and the soft slide of his tongue. I groan into his mouth, and his hands flatten at the small of my back, pulling me impossibly closer. I want to shove myself against him until I can burrow under his skin.

His mouth. He nips and sucks and explores, lips on mine with crushing force one second, whisper-sweet the next.

I’m melting. I must be melting.

I hold on for dear life, delirious, drunk on the way he’s kissing me. I’ve imagined this before, but I never imagined it like this.

We’re still dancing, or something like it anyway; his hips swivel, and I rut against him, my entire body throbbing with animalistic need. Sam shifts his weight, grinding against me, and I can feel the fat stiff length of him right up against my center. I whimper, desperate and wanton.

One hand slides up my back, around my ribs, up, until he can trace the curve of my breast with his thumb and then pinch my nipple through my bra. When I buck against him, he does it again. My knees don’t want to support me any more.

I’m a half-second away from coming just like this. I’m shaking.

“The fuck are we doing?” Sam says roughly. He nips my earlobe.

“Not thinking, remember?” I snap, and then I’m stumbling back, almost falling, tugging him by the wrist as I start to weave through the crushing press of bodies. My heart is pounding. Everything blurs together. My skin feels too cold without him all over it.

There’s one open bathroom, no line, no reason to hesitate. The heavy door closes behind us and the deadbolt slides home with a metallic echoing thud.

He’s already crowding me back, hands on my cheeks, tip of his nose brushing mine. I grab at the front of his shirt, fingers twisting in the sweat-damp fabric. My ass hits the counter and I surge up clumsily to kiss him. The angle’s off; our teeth clack together.

We laugh and fit ourselves back together, bodies like puzzle pieces in that fucking song Sam would never admit he loves, and I could cry with relief at the way he feels under my hands. I can feel him breathing, the harsh rise and fall of his chest, and I can feel the heat of him, blood and sweat and bone, solid and real and here and mine, at least for tonight.

He fumbles with the button of my jeans and kisses me like he’s drowning. Then he curls two long fingers up and into me, grinding the heel of his hand against my clit. I lean back, heels skidding on the dirty tile as I try to brace myself and rock my hips up all at once.

“Need you to fuck me,” I bite out, remarkably steady considering the way I’m trembling.

“You gonna regret this tomorrow?” Sam asks. He twists his fingers, knuckles stretching me open, so good my eyes roll back in my head.

Tomorrow… we’re not going to think about tomorrow.

“Might regret waiting this long,” I groan. Understatement of the century.

“You ‘n me both. You sure?” He’s staring down at me and he looks wrecked: pupils blown, lips swollen, hair clinging to his temples where his skin is streaked with sweat.

“Do you feel how close I am?” I grab his wrist with one hand, holding him there, fucking myself on his fingers as I try to pull my jeans down with the other hand.

Sam’s mouth drops open and his eyes go unfocused for a second. Whatever self-control he had left is gone. He pulls his hand away, and I whine at the loss, but together we get my pants down, and I kick them off as he gets his belt open. He’s just as big as I always imagined, proportional to those sinfully long elegant fingers, and my mouth fucking waters as I watch him stroke himself.

He bites his lip, chest heaving, and tugs me up onto the very edge of the grimy sink counter. Before I can find my balance he’s right there, hooking an arm under my knee so that he can spread my legs wider, and he’s guiding the hot velvety head of his cock down my center and in, and the slick blunt pressure of it makes me claw at his back, trying to get him closer even though I can barely handle how good that first thick inch feels.

“Fuuu - unnhhhhh - fuck, Sam, I need…” I choke out, and then all I can do is pant breathlessly, incoherent, as he rocks his hips and starts to stretch me open. I’m helpless like this, no leverage to do anything but sit there and take it, and he moves so maddeningly slow that I’m going out of my skull.

“God, look at you,” he breathes. “So fucking good. Always wondered what you’d look like taking my cock. Always imagined you begging. Are you gonna beg for me?”

“If you don’t shut the fuck up and give it to me, Sam, I swear —”

“Yeah?” he growls. He grips my hips hard enough to bruise.

I wrap my legs around his waist, hooking my ankles together, leaning back on my hands, and then I can arch my back and pull him deeper, working myself onto his cock.

“Sam —” I start, but before I can say anything else he slams home, grinding in hard and fast, and my voice cracks on a stuttering, incoherent whine. It’s blindingly good. He’s steely-hard and so goddamn thick I feel like I’m about to split open, like one wrong move is going to pull me apart. His first rolling thrust sparks this wrenching wave of pressure that fills me up and shakes me down to the tips of my toes, my entire body rippling with feverish heat.

“That’s my girl,” he pants. He pulls me against him and twists up, rough and filthy, and I shudder against him, writhing, mindless and overwhelmed.

“Sam,” I choke out. My voice is high-pitched and squeaky-thin, and the next sharp thrust makes me forget whatever I was going to say beyond, “Nnnnhhhhhyesohgod.”

“There?”

“Fuck. Yes.”

He moans, low and broken, and finds that perfect spot again, grinding into it with eye-popping force.

I can feel it, pleasure cramping through me with every movement, coiling up, building around the deep throbbing ache where he’s fucking into me. I feel like a wild animal, primal and lost.

“Good girl. Fuck, feels so good.”

I clutch at his shoulders, muscles quaking, burying my face in his neck as all that white-hot pressure peaks inside me. I let out an ugly, anguished sob, can’t hold it back, and then all I can feel is the all-consuming spasm of my orgasm, tension rocketing through every inch of me, sending me out into space for a long paralyzed moment. The first pulse of it is so scary-intense that I can’t breathe, can’t control myself, can’t keep track of my own body…

Then it all comes back at once, and I’m exquisitely aware of Sam against me as he fucks me through it, hips surging forward as I squeeze around him and urge him deeper.

“Thought about this so many times,” he’s confessing, ragged and raw.

“Me too,” I gasp.

He sucks in a shaky breath, moving slower as I start to come down, and I can feel him holding back now. “Think about you so fucking much, I can’t —”

“Me fucking too, Sam.”

He kisses me, gentle in a way that could very easily destroy me.

“This isn’t how it was supposed to go,” he whispers, forehead sweaty where it rests against mine.

“Fuck, Sam, don’t — this is —”

I feel so strange and strung-out, caught between the shivery aftershocks in my belly and the startling tenderness in his voice as he mumbles, “Wanted to take my time.”

“Sam.”

“Wanted to take my time with you,” he repeats. He moves against me with this slow, snakelike undulation. “Wanted to lay you out and kiss you everywhere and fucking worship you.”

“We can. We can — I want that.”

“Never gonna be enough,” he chokes out. “I knew — I knew, if I did this, I’d never want to stop.”

My skin is lit up with the feel of him, liquid heat gathering in my gut as my body responds to every perfect touch, but I’m afraid my ribcage is about to split open with the way my heart is hammering.

We’re in a goddamn dive bar bathroom, for fuck’s sake, and I’m fucked up, and maybe this will feel cheap and tawdry and silly in the morning, but… somehow I don’t think it will. Somehow this feels like the most important thing that’s ever happened to me.

“Why’d we wait this long?” I ask. There’s an embarrassing wobble in my voice.

“Because I’m a fucking idiot,” he grits out. “Because I was scared.” Before I can respond, he kisses me, all teeth and desperation, twisting his hips and swallowing my moan. He slides his hands under my shirt, sliding them up my back, and drags his fingernails down in trails of stinging heat. It’s pleasure and pain and fucking obliteration, and the sensory overload has me spiraling out again.

“Fuck that,” I half-laugh. My back arches and my voice breaks, and I bite his lip hard enough that I taste copper.

He groans, full-throated and shameless, and ducks his head, sinking his teeth into the sweat-slick curve of my neck. He sucks, nibbles, and it sets off fireworks behind my eyelids.

“Close, Sam. So close,” I babble, breathing harsh and heavy. I tangle my fingers in his hair and pull, and I can feel him moan. “Never thought it’d feel like this. It’s — this is so much better —”

He shudders against me, lets out this long, guttural sound, and then he shifts and pounds into me harder, and all I can do is cling to him, pulling him closer like I’m never going to let go. “C’mon, then. Fuck. Tell me what you want.”

“Please, Sam. Just — please. Please.”

“I’d do anything for you,” he growls. “You know that, right?”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

“Don’t leave me,” I blurt out, as the unbearable tension starts to crest. “Don’t leave me, Sam. Please.”

I know he hears it. He gasps like I punched him. I can feel him jerk, twitch, fingers clawing at my back, cock twitching and swelling inside me as he starts to come. I bite down on the meat of his shoulder as I let go. My orgasm feels like it’s ripping something loose, an earthquake in my core, and I don’t trust myself not to say exactly what’s on my mind. There’s a surge of pleasure, one glowing wave of it then another, and I’m dimly aware of shuddering against Sam as he rocks into me one more time, clutching him close… as if I could get close enough to keep him here with me.

It’s impossible to be sad right now. I’m chemically incapable of sadness, still soaring high, but this is so much bigger than sadness anyway. I just feel like I’m about to break.

“That,” he says, with an ugly sound, half-laugh, half-sob. “That’s what I was afraid of. That I wouldn’t ever want to leave.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “Let’s just — let’s not think about it. Okay? Can we go back to the motel and — can we do that again? Take our time?”

“Just for tonight?” he asks raggedly.

“Just for tonight. We’re not going to think about what comes next.”

He nods. We both know it’s a lie.

#sam winchester smut #sam x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader smut #supernatural #spn fic

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mxvladdy · 3 years

Note

heyy i just read your fic Case of the Munchies on ao3 and im Loving it!!!! its amazing!! i was wonder if youre accepting requests and if you haven’t done it could you write the same for the rest: mammon, levi, satan, belphi, dia, barbatos and smth for simeon and luke (ofc platonic) like how angles have a true form and that means they can never relax around mc and how solomon has so much power at his fingertips he can just snap and end them or smth like that? pretty please and thank you!!!!

A/N: Of Course! Of Course! I already did Mammon and Levi HERE so I’ll do the other four in this request! You sent me a lot of good ideas and I’ll sprinkle them out into other requests soon!

Hope you like it!!

Case of the Munchies prt 3!

Word Count: 4.2k

Characters: Satan, Belphie, Diavolo, Barbatos

TW: Mentions of eating and cook humans, very mild gore

Satan

As the only full-blooded demon of the seven, he has thought about it...just hypothetically of course. When you were new to the Devildom he did find your scent more appetizing than the others. It’s a good thing he has the most restraint and control of all his kin, especially when it comes to his more base urges.

He doesn’t hide this knowledge from you. It’s readily available in the library and his own room in the history books. He just won’t bring it up. So if you don’t say anything, he won’t either. What would he say anyway? “Yes, I’ve thought about it, up until it was outlawed it was a staple of our diet after all…” Ye, probably not the best thing to say.

When you finally brought it up he was exasperated. Did you have to bring it up during the few hours he had alone with himself? He wasn’t going to lie but the thought of hurting your feelings would just about do him in.

He will alleviate your worries if you have any. If Satan was anything, he was genuine.

Mini Fic

His wine curdles in his stomach, turning sour along with the take-out he had nabbed for the two of you to enjoy tonight. Drinks and dinner were becoming a staple in your T.V. night tradition. If one of you had had a rough day you would drop by your favorite shop of the hour and pick up a meal to share while you vent.

Today in particular had been a shit day for him. Failed experiment after failed experiment, and one bottle that didn’t explode on impact with the potion he dropped. Sigh. At least your comforting words soothed his wounded pride a little. You chuckle at his escapades glad to see he is not hurt at least. It was nice to have someone to see the humor in something that normally would have dampened his mood.

“You’re a pest.” He laughs at you while snapping his takeout chopsticks in half to use. “I need sympathy-hours of work wasted.” You snort into your own bowl of udon.

“You need words of praise like Beel needs another stomach.” Satan gasps in mock insult pointing a sauce stained chopstick at you.

“How dare you insult your host! After I toiled over this meal of-” What did he get exactly? Honestly, when he placed the order he was near boiling with rage at his careless fumble. It was to be a surprise for you, something to give you a bit of magic while supervised by himself. He knew how frustrated you were with your lack of magical ability in class so he wanted to gift you something grand. Now he has to wait months to try again.

Ah, well...nothing ventured nothing gained as they say.

You watch him sulk over his soup dumplings, his mile away from the comfort of your company and his room. “Come on blondie.” You poke him with your foot before burying them under his pajama-clad thighs on the couch. “Eat your ‘hard earned’ meal before I do.” You snatch up his D.D.D forgetting your own food for a moment to set up your favorite streaming service to cast to his small T.V. “Want to watch a bunch of humans fail miserably at baking?”

"I thought you would never ask."

Satan feels you stiffen in his arms two hours into your bake-off marathon. Your takeout boxes are cold and forgotten on his coffee table, a bottle of wine gone between the two of you. He glances down at you curious.

You were transfixed on the screen. The novice baker on screen was struggling to keep his monstrosity of a cake upright. It was the annual Halloween episode and this fool went for a Silence of the Lambs inspired cake. A good concept really, but very poorly executed. The fake body parts and sugar blood weighted the pastry down dangerously. If he were, to be frank, the cake was also tacky as hell. Heh, he'd have to try to make this for Lucifer.

"Does his abuse of the piping gun offend you that much?" He jokes wrapping an arm around you.

Your laugh is breathy and lacks its usual warmth. "It is excessive isn't it?" You look up at him. "Hey, Satan-have you ever eaten people before?"

"Uhh…" Great, how eloquent. This came out of nowhere, did Lucifer set you up to this? No-no you wouldn’t. Would you hate him if you knew? “I have.” He admits through clenched teeth waiting for your reaction.

“Didn’t Diavolo ban it?” He can tell you are doing the mental math in your head.

He chuckles dryly. “Well, you never asked if I did it legally.” You move away from his touch and pause the show. “I mean...I did it legally! ” His mouth runs freely, his brain screaming at him to shut up.

“Satan.” You cross your arms unimpressed.

“It was a new law and I never meant to eat it for the most part. It was at a time where I was still struggling to control myself.” Young and stupid as Lucifer had said defending him every step of the way when he would slip up. Was it sold on the black market now? Yes. Did he know how to get it? Sure, but he would never nor would he tell you about it either.

You nod thinking about his words. “I can empathize.” Oh, thank the Devil. “Have you thought of eating me?”Ahhh. “Oh my God, you have.” You chuck a pillow at him with a laugh.

He catches the pillow and clutches it to his fiery hot face. “Everyone did at first!” If he was going down then he was going to take every one of his brothers down with him. “I wasn’t going to act on it! It was a spur of the moment-why are you laughing!”

“Sorry, sorry.” You wipe at the tears in your eyes wishing you had your phone to take a picture of his blushing face. “I kind of figured you did.”

Satan looks at you incredulously. “Shouldn’t you be a bit more torn up over this?”

You shrug. “After everything we’ve been through? I admit it was a shock to think at first but I mean, you would have done it by now right?”

“Well, thank you?” He flops back on the couch, still clutching the pillow to act as a barrier between you two. He’ll take it as a compliment.

You scoot close, nudging his knee with yours. “You ok?” He nods. “Can I touch you?” He nods again eagerly. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and squeeze. “Sorry, I made you uncomfortable.”

Satan chuckled, dropping the pillow to hug you back. “It’s ok.” He peaks your forehead. “Now, with that out of the way. Shall we finish this?” He swipes up his phone to hit play. You nod, flinging your legs over him to snuggle closer. “Good, I’m dying to know how he tries to save that thing. I’m putting money on icing.”

“You know.” You break the silence once more, unable to stop yourself. “I wouldn’t be opposed to being eaten...in some ways.”

Belphegor

After your first *ahem* encounter, he doesn’t bring up the whole food thing. He is afraid that if you learned about it, it would be the last strike for you and his relationship. Perhaps it’s paranoia on his part but better safe than sorry.

In all honesty, he didn’t eat it that much anyway. Killing humans was something he did often in his youth as a demon. A stupid attempt at revenge on his part. It filled the holes in his hearts to hurt those he believed killed his sister.

But to eat their flesh? Disgusting. He tried it a few times and it turned his stomach with every mouthful. He just hated them too much to even stomach them. He’s mellowed out with time but still never got a taste for it.

When you asked it was a shock but welcomed in a way. Like he could finally get this weight off his shoulders every time he looked at you.

Mini Fic

“It’s gross.” Belphie yawns, jumping up to sit on the high garden wall. He bends down to help you up placing you gently next to himself. The wind catches you by surprise threatening to topple you back from the wall before he rights you. He tosses his sweater over you with a nod of satisfaction.

You snuggle into the fleece lining burying your nose into the fabric. It smelled of elderberries and honeysuckles. Belphie watches you curl up into his side with a fond smile. “Seriously, you all are nasty.”

“Ouch!” You push his shoulder with a grin. “I feel like I should be offended on behalf of all humans.”

Belphie snorts, looking up into the bright colors of the night sky. “Good. Be offended. You, humans, are slimy.” You squawk indignantly. “It’s true, never in all my years would I willingly ingest it.” He shudders theatrically.

“Rude.”

“Shouldn’t you be happy? Lest I eat you?” He growls playfully, taking a swipe at you. He pulls you close to kiss the pout off your face. He stops only when your face is hot and your smile threatens to pull a muscle. “I’ll keep you safe, always.” He vows resting his chin on your head.

“Do you think other demons would try to eat me?”

“Have you met my twin?” He teases. He takes your jab to his ribs with a smile. “But if one of those lesser demons even tries to breathe in your direction I’ll kill them.”

“Ok, Mister sleeps till dinner.” You joke. His vow warms your heart a little, chasing away the small bit of fear that had rested itself in your chest. You saw how some demons looked at you at R.A.D, the longing and hungry looks got to be a bit much sometimes. A few older demons would discuss it loudly when they knew you were close by. Apparently, it was a long standing tradition of demons eating humans both body and soul when a pact was concluded.

Imagine what those brothers would do to them…

You shake your head hugging Belphie closer. You had nothing but his word that he would keep you safe, yet that was enough for you. Besides, he wasn’t one to follow the rules even at the best of times.

“I’m serious. You're off limits for everyone.”

You nod into his shirt, closing your eyes to enjoy the peace of the moment. “I’ll hold you to it.”

Diavolo

It is so far from his mind that when you say something it is like a rug was taken out from under him. He could be diplomatic about it, but you deserve better than a half-truth.

He was a wild child in his youth. Sometimes he would overindulge in his father’s heritage and gorge himself on his newfound powers and privilege. He would dine with the elders and eat with abandon under their proud eyes.

He regrets it now, in your company it brings up a slurry of emotions. Sometimes when he looks at you he sees flashes of his past behavior.

The urge is stronger in him than the brothers, a constant nagging tug in his guts, but he is strong. Stronger both in willpower and sheer physical prowess than them so the pull is more of an annoyance than a burning need. He can temper the hunger in other ways if need be *wink*

He fears what you might think of him if you ever found out the truth, but however you take it he will handle it in stride. He loves you too much not to.

Mini Fic

Dinners, when Diavolo could eat alone, were a rare and special treat. The solace of just being allowed to exist without constantly checking his posture or presentation was a blessing, just him, his thoughts, and a good meal. It was nice to have no paperwork to worry about staining this time or a tedious meeting where he couldn’t savor his meal. No, no this was good. He looks down at his heavily laden plate and smiles. Well, almost… Pulling out his phone he snaps a quick picture and sends it to you with a simple question. Join me?

Private meals were wonderful, but with you, they were perfect.

You arrive faster than he expected, flushed face and clutching a stitch in your side from rushing over. He almost felt bad before he saw the eager look in your eyes. Barbatos helps you with your school bags and coat before placing another plate of food across from the young lord. He winks at the prince before disappearing back through the door.

“Thank you for the invite!” You beam taking your seat across from him. “I hope you don’t mind that I'm not dressed for the occasion. I was just wrapping up a study session with the boys.” You look down at your rumpled lounge clothes.

Diavolo waved his hand disregarding your concerns. “I would emulate you if I had the time.” He looks at his own pressed school uniform. He had another meeting this evening, much to his distaste. “You look rather comfortable.” You smile in delight before tucking into your own plate.

You eat in a comfortable silence reading the room well enough to tell that he wished for some company but not needless chitter-chatter. Barbatos arrived moments after you put your fork down and left with the plate leaving behind a delicious smelling hot drink. You couldn’t put your finger on the flavor but it tastes spicy like cinnamon and coats your throat like warm honey.

Whatever was in the drink seemed to work some magic on the prince. His shoulder droop, his back sinking into the chair as his legs stretch out till they are close to brushing against yours. He starts talking over the drink, eyes slowly lighting up with delight. You drink, nodding along with him as he builds up steam. It was nice to see him so unguarded and light. You listen to him talk about simple innocent topics. You knew how he tried to have these conversations with the others to no avail. The brother’s always tried to stay clear of him, and Lucifer simply dismissed these things most days. Barbatos and the angels were a bit better but still listened mostly to placate him.

“Ah!” Diavolo stops mid-sentence as his door opens once more Barbatos holding a small platter in his gloved hand. Dia claps his hands in delight. “I’ve been wanting to have you try this with me for forever. The human palate is so different, but I hope this is tasty.”

“What is it?” You eye the covered plate curiously.

Dia says a word in infernal. It is harsh and guttural in his throat but his delight was evident in his tone. “It is like...a roasted nut? Sorry, it is difficult to explain but it has been a favorite treat of mine since I was a boy. I hope you like it too.” He opens the lid with little ceremony and tilts the bowl to you. Inside were several golfball sized pods piled on top of each other. Even from across the table you could feel the molten heat radiating from the porous black shell. It looked...ugly. Like a hunk of dried lava. You eye it suspiciously as Diavolo picks one up with his bare hands and bits it. The shell cracks under his sharp teeth, a fang catching in a weak spot with a noise that makes you shiver. Underneath the thick casing, you could see a dark red and fleshy core. He hums in delight pulling put the meat of the seed and discard the shell pieces onto an empty plate. He makes quick work of the innards already reaching for another by the time you casually pick up a seed.

The seed itself was dense and warm to the touch. You squeeze it, noting that the porous coating felt like a mass of steel in your hand. “Dia-how do I open it?” No way you could bite it, not without breaking your jaw in the process.

“Allow me.” He takes it from you and effortlessly cracks it. “It is a tradition to break them with teeth, instead of hands or utensils. Something about a show of strength. I just find it fun.” He shrugs, handing you the broken seed.

“Fun!” You marvel at his pearly fangs. “Those are some big chompers.”

“All the better to eat you with my dear.” He chuckles.

You blink in shock, eyes widening. “Would you? Eat me?”

Diavolo’s smile drops. “No.” He lies on reflex, his political nature kicking in. “No-no wait.” He shakes his head. “I...at a time would have without hesitation.” He feels you recoil. “It was common practice back in the day. To the common demon it was a great meal and for the ruling class a show. He looks down at the broken fragments of shell on his plate. Breaking the shell was far too reminiscent of other things. He squashes the unwanted wave of memories coming up. Instead, he looks up at you.

You sit quietly mulling over his words. You haven’t run yet. “Why did you stop?”

He leans back with a loud exhale. Why did he stop? There were many reasons, none he wished to divulge into at the moment, but he had to say something. “I grew up, and began to resent and regret it.” He used to read human stories of demons and his kind. They hurt their characterizations of him and his people. Yet, they had all been scarily accurate. He wanted to prove that they weren’t stagnating beasts, slaves to their desires. Even if it wasn't a popular opinion.

“I see.” You pick up the seed again. “Thank you for telling me. You didn’t have to.”

“But I wanted to, and to apologize… such admissions must have ruined your appetite. If you wish to retire-”

“Is it weird if it didn’t?” You cut him off. You felt-not apathetic to the knowledge but close to it. It confirmed a lot of things for you and put certain things in perspective. You still felt safe with him even with this new bit of knowledge. Without a second thought, you pop the treat into your mouth. You gasp in delight. The flavor and texture were not what you were expecting, but was delicious all the same. “Can you open another for me?” You push your plate over to him.

“Of course!”

The food was as wonderful as his company.

Barbatos

You knew he cooked it. He probably knows a million different ways to prepare a human. He is also very blunt about his dabblings in the market.

He doesn’t eat it, hasn’t ever. He sees no reason to, especially since he doesn’t need to eat anyway there is no temptation. He did find the meals he created beautiful though.

Once he lived for the praises of the courts and his young lord. He was a master at all mediums he cared to work with. Time, decorum, or of the flesh.

He is 100% unashamed of his past with the dark side of the Devildom’s history. In fact, he is damn near proud of it. He is a demon and it was a part of his life, if that frightens you, well there is nothing he can do about it.

He’ll entertain your questions and will try to put any lingering worries at ease. Just don’t expect to be coddled when he does.

Mini Fic

Barbatos had very few personal pleasures in his life. His schedule simply didn’t have the space for such things. So why even bother looking for a pastime. It wasn’t until Diavolo gifted him with an old worn cookbook did he find it.

Cooking was a necessity for his prince, but with that little book, it became something he looked forward to doing. Slowly, he began to seek them out, filling his growing quarters with cookbooks and loose-leaf slips of paper. He enjoys reading them. Each book was a little time capsule into the cook's life and memories. Could a mix of spices really remind someone of the arid heat of their motherland? Or does following a certain way of aging meat really honor the writer's late grandfather’s memory? He tries them all, each recipe a little invasion to a happier time.

He wrote his fair share of cookbooks too in his day. Simple modifications to things the young lord liked to the odd machinations of his own imagination. He got good at experimenting with flavors and textures over the years, mastering certain cooking techniques and flavors just for fun. He didn’t share many of them, a lot of his recipes were just too complicated for most. Luke was allowed to look at his pastry books only. The little cherub was enamored with his techniques and wanted to learn as much as he could in the short amount of time he was in the Devildom. Admirable, but he made sure to keep some of his...less savory books away from the boy. He shudders to think what Simeon would do if he scarred the young angel.

You are the only one who has full access to his collections. Whether you liked to cook was inconsequential to him. He simply enjoyed sharing this interest with you. Some nights you would take it upon yourself to be his “sous-chef”. Which meant you sat in the corner of the kitchen and read out the ingredients and steps for a recipe he knew by heart. Sometimes you would add in extra steps in an attempt to stump it. Cute...but ultimately failed each time. So, most nights when you tagged along to the kitchens you just flip through his collection, reading his immaculate scribblings crammed into the corners of the pages or where he scratched out certain ingredients for more demon-appropriate foods and more sustainable options.

You had gone through many beautiful books before you found it. The cookbook was small and inconspicuous compared to most. Just a simple black cover with a well-worn spine. What made you take notice of it was just how dusty it was. That wasn’t like him to do. Barbatos would never let something get so dirty. You wished you never had opened it. You weren’t stupid by any means, but after reading a few pretty graphic recipes it had unsettled you. So you withdrew from Barbatos trying to forget about the book tucked away deep in the bowels of your school bag.

“You’ve been distant.” You choke, hand flying up to your chest as you swear your heart skipped a beat. Damn demon. Should put a bell on him. “What’s wrong?” His eyes are piercing, cutting away at your feeble defenses.

“Nothing…” You fiddle with your bag’s strap. Your eyes drop to the floor taking in the differences between his polished shoes and your scuffed boots.

“Of course not…” You could hear the skepticism in his voice. “I trust that if there was something wrong you would feel safe enough to confide in me.” His words hit like a ton of bricks on your shoulders. He sighs seeing that his words got no reaction. “Please?”

Wordlessly you rummage in your bag and thrust the book into his chest. “Sorry. It shook me up more than I thought it would.”

Ah. He knew this book all too well. For a time it had been his favorite, one to pull out with Diavolo had guests or a deal that needed to be sealed. He accepts the book, noting how much your hands shook. “I understand.” He slips the book into his breast pocket making a mental note to hide it in one of his lesser used rooms. “Would you like to discuss this? In my room perhaps?” You follow with a timid nod.

“Where shall we begin?” Barbatos asks the moment he closes the door to his room.

“You don’t seem perturbed.” You frown. Barbatos shrugs, pulling the book out and opening it. He had a lot of good memories stored here. Some of these were still considered signature dishes, oftentimes a visiting dignitary would lament to him about the good old days when he could show off his craft when flesh was plentiful. He takes pride in that still to this day even. For as much as he loved you, he would not be ashamed of this.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” You shake your head when he says as much. “It just confused me. Do-do you see me as food?”

“I never saw humans as food, no more than I see demons or angels as it.” He picks at an imaginary bit of lent from his pant leg. “As for seeing you as food no. No matter how sweet your lips are, or how honeyed your words can be.” He smiles, taking impish delight in your squirming. “I merely did my job as a butler for my lord.”

“Oh- sorry for not coming to you sooner.” You felt foolish now. Barbatos waves it off, pleased to have this issue put aside so quickly and cleanly. “Wait-" You gasp as his words finally sink in. “Have you prepared angels before?”

He flashes you a mischievous smile putting a single finger up to his lips. “Perhaps~ do you wish to read that too?”

#obey me #om satan #om belphegor #om diavolo #om barbatos #fun request!

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