honey, i'm home! (obey me version)
note from kin: i finished this like two days after the genshin one, but i got so used to not posting on this blog that i just. forgot to actually upload it
anyway! premise: you were away from the devildom for a long, long, like REAAAAAALLy long time, and today’s the day you come back!! fluff ensues ^^
(you can read the genshin version of this here!)
fandom: obey me
character(s): gn! reader, lucifer, mammon, levi, satan, asmo, beel, belphie
pairing(s): demon brothers/reader
warning(s): nope
genre: EXTREME fluff!!! fluff so fluffy that you might actually find it painful to read and i’m sorry if you do!!!!!!
When you win a cosmic game of basketball so hard that you slam-dunk yourself in the hearts of seven of the most powerful demons in the Devildom, there are usually consequences. Some of these consequences are of the heart-fluttering kind; some are more of the heart-aching kind.
Heart-aching might actually be too light of a term. Seven times the love ended up also meaning seven times the loneliness while you were away… whoever said that distance makes the heart grow fonder clearly just loved to lie.
Being in constant digital contact helped, but at some point the messages started becoming more and more melancholic - at one point you could practically feel Satan trying to reach through the screen for you. And, of course, there’s that time that Asmo called you at two in the morning, sobbing about how he was scared that he’d forget how your touch felt while you were gone.
He was drunk, of course, and liable to be dramatic, but it did get you thinking. Two days later, you woke up in the morning to find a message from Belphie sitting in your inbox - it was typo-ridden and clearly written in the middle of a late night daze, but it was one of those things that you can tell came straight from the heart. And that got you thinking even more.
So: here you stand, in front of the House of Lamentation’s front door, a full month before you were due home. Maybe you’re imagining it, but the building itself seems to have drooped a little in your absence. There are cobwebs hanging around the porch; the step lacks its usual shine. Seems that the boys haven’t been keeping up very well with their chores as of late.
You’re half expecting someone to come running at the jingling of your keys, or the sound of the door clicking open and then shut again - but nothing seems to notice your arrival for the time being. The house is silent, sunken in a listless kind of stupor. The air itself feels a little bitter and congealed, like tea leaves left to steep for too long.
You remain quiet, parking your case by the welcome mat and creeping forward like a predator on the prowl. Diavolo had warned you of this when you told him of your plans for an early homecoming, but this is still a little unprecedented. Just how hard have those demons been sulking lately?
You also explicitly warned Diavolo to not tell the boys you’d be back so early, so maybe you shouldn't be surprised that no one’s come to bulldoze you into the next century with all of the pent-up affection you’ve been missing out on. There are a whole range of ways you could announce your return, each more dramatic than th else, but you’re tired from the journey here. The only thing you can bother doing is shouting hello at the top of your voice.
For a moment there’s no reply. Then comes a great racket - a series of scuffles and stumbles, as if someone’s falling all the way down the stairs. A split second later, you realise that someone is; they’re tumbling head-over-heels into view, barely even trying to maintain a grip on the banister in their hurry to get to the bottom.
“You’re back?!” Mammon lands in a heap, but he’s barely on the floor for a moment before he’s back on his feet and squeezing you so tightly that it feels like he’s trying to physically meld himself into you. “We weren’t expectin’ ya for ages!”
“It was meant to be a surprise!” You manage to get out, working your arms out of his hold to wrap them around him in return. Almost as soon as you do, he flops against you like a fish out of water. “Aw, hey, hey, what’s up with you?”
“You were gone for so long, I, like, actually died,” He groans. “Just… just lemme hold ya for a bit, alright?”
It feels like it’s more you doing the holding than him, but you’re not going to reject him. You rub your hand absent-mindedly up and down his back. “...so you missed me, then?”
He grumbles something into your neck and, if possible, wraps his arms around you even tighter than before. “...everything sucks without you. D-don’t ever leave for that long again, ya hear me?”
“I hear you,” You hum, then abruptly twirl him around in a circle. He stumbles slightly, but the momentum of the turn coupled with your tight grip on him keeps him on his feet; he goes stiff as you laugh right into his ear. “What’ve you been— hey, what’s wrong now?”
He’s clutching the back of your shirt so tightly now that you’re a little afraid he’s going to rip it. If you keep very, very quiet and listen hard enough, you think you might hear him sniffling.
“...hey,” You say again, softer this time. “It’s alright.”
He nods into your shoulder and sniffs again, more audibly this time. You wonder when he last let himself be this vulnerable - possibly not once since you left. You make a mental note to spoil him a good bit in the coming weeks.
“What’s going on down there?” calls a dispassionate voice from the top of the staircase. “Mammon? Are you cryi—”
You don’t have time to do much other than smile before Asmo fully registers your presence. His first response is to freeze like a deer caught in headlights - then a delighted scream that probably shatters a window somewhere, and very quickly he’s flying down the stairs and right at you.
He doesn’t even bother waiting for Mammon to get out of the way first, and his momentum by the time he hits you sends all three of you to the floor. You’re hearing more footsteps before you’ve even fully registered exactly what’s just happened; soon enough, you hear a muffled yell, followed by what sounds suspiciously like several more people falling down the stairs.
“Wh—” A pair of hands have hooked around your arms - you feel a strange swooping sensation in your midriff as they pull you free of your demon prison, then immediately crush you into a hug. “...Beel?”
“It’s good to see you,” He mumbles. You can’t see his expression with your face pressed to his shirt like this, but you can still tell he’s smiling by the subtle lilt of his voice. “I missed you a lot.”
Frank as always. You laugh, and he laughs with you - the sound rumbles through his chest against your ear. “I missed you too.”
He rocks back and forth a little on the balls of his feet; the movement makes you sway along with him. He seems to think hard about for something for a while, then finally says, “Food doesn’t taste as good when you’re not around to share it.”
“It’s a good thing I’m here now, then, huh?”
Beel’s nod is so immediate and so forceful that you can feel it without even looking up to see it. “It’d be good even if food still tasted the same before. You being here is the most important part.”
“Hey,” Someone complains before you can reply, and you manage to free yourself enough to see Belphie pawing grumpily at his brother’s arm. “Some of us wanna say hi as well, Beel.”
If it had been anyone other than Belphie asking, you don’t think Beel would willingly acquiese - indeed, his arms tighten for just a moment, as if preparing to refuse, but he does let go after that. You turn to Belphie, who’s gazing at you with something close to a pout, clearly impatient.
He looks awful. He’s always had bags under his eyes, but they seem about thrice as dark as usual. If you didn’t know better, you might have thought he’d gotten into Asmo’s eyeshadow and drawn them on himself.
“Come here,” You order in the kind of voice that brooks no argument, lifting your hands and looking at Belphie sternly. “Let me take a look at you.”
He doesn’t bother pretending to complain like he usually does when he knows you’re about to admonish him for not taking care of himself. He just slopes forwards and sets his chin in your palms without a word, eyes closing contentedly as you run your thumb along his cheek - just under those bruise-like half-moons beneath his eyes.
“You haven’t been sleeping properly, have you?” You sigh, squishing his cheeks inward. He makes a grumbly kind of noise at the base of his throat - you get the feeling that he isn’t listening to a word you’re saying. “That’s not like you, Belphie.”
“Mmm,” He agrees without much commitment, beginning to droop forward as if to fall asleep in your hands right then and there. Behind him, Asmo has started tugging at his cardigan. “Missed you.”
He isn’t even trying to conceal how content he is right now. You sigh a little, but smile anyway. You don’t really have the heart to actually scold him right now, long as it’s been since you’ve even been able to see him in person.
Instead, you lean forward and plant a tiny kiss right on the tip of his nose. At that, his eyes fly open; he stares at you with a star-struck sort of expression for a moment, and then gives a very dopey, very high-pitched, very un-Belphie-like giggle.
“You are going to go to bed early tonight,” You tell him firmly. “Okay?”
“Okay,” Belphie practically sings in reply, looking for a moment like the happiest being in all three realms. “Whatever you say…”
He’s still grinning widely in a dazed kind of way when Asmo successfully yanks him away. Before anyone can reproach him, he sinks himself into your arms with all the desperation of a drowning man - indeed, he clutches at you like the only life-saving buoy around for miles.
Mammon had been a little teary earlier, but as soon as he’s secured himself in your embrace, Asmo starts downright sobbing. He’s completely shameless about it, too, and for a moment you remember that phone call you received and wonder if he’s drunk.
It’s against Lucifer’s rules to drink to the point of full inebriation in the House of Lamentation, but then again his brothers have never been very good at following rules. And you’re fairly sure he’s broken that particular one himself, based on that suspect string of voicemails that he left you while you were out grocery shopping two or so months ago. You’d never taken Lucifer as a day drinker… then again, there’s never any day in the Devildom, so you guess it doesn’t really count.
But, despite his extremely emotional state, Asmo’s hold on you is completely firm and steady, and he doesn’t seem to be having any problems keeping himself balanced. He’s a lot messier when he’s drunk-sad, too. (Though that’s not to say he isn’t a little untidy right now.)
No, Asmo’s perfectly sober - he’s just so incredibly delighted to see you again that he’s having difficulty keeping his joy from overflowing. You sigh a little, but smile anyway, and hold him tight. You hear Levi mutter something mutinous under his breath, and Satan looks less than overjoyed, but there’s enough understanding in their expressions that they don’t attempt to pull Asmo away.
They missed you just as much as he did, after all - more, actually - so they know how he feels. It’s just that Asmo’s face is thin enough that he can dramatically fling himself into your arms and cry for joy without being embarrassed about it. For now, Satan and Levi just have to settle with staring at you like you’re the shining centre of the known universe itself - which, to be honest, isn’t that far off from how they feel. Satan is smiling the widest he has in a good while; Levi is vibrating at a frequency that could shatter glass.
“...you’ve made me ruin my make-up now,” Asmo mumbles faux-reproachfully after a while, hiccuping slightly. Despite his words, he makes no move to detach himself from you - just burrows even further into your hold. “You’re gonna have to make it up to me later.”
“Your make-up’s fine, Asmo,” You sigh - his mascara is a little smudged, at most. Asmo’s typical cosmetics of choice are pretty much bombproof; the fact that they’ve been budged even slightly is impressive in and of itself. “You’re still as pretty as always.”
He sniffs bravely, then pulls back a little and manages something resembling his usual bright beam. “I know that. But I still want you to make it up to me.”
“Of course,” You acquiese, reaching up to dry his cheeks with your sleeve. On a regular occasion, he might have complained about the texture of the fabric being too rough on his skin - on this one, though, he doesn’t seem to care. He just sighs blissfully, and catches your hand afterwards to shower it with affectionate little kisses.
At that point - or maybe some point afterwards, you’re not entirely sure - the others begin ushering you to the common room. Try as they might, the others don’t quite manage to coax Asmo off of you, and so he stays attached to you all the way there. It’s only there that Levi somehow manages to convince (read: bully) him into letting go, and so he gets to take your left side when you sit down; Satan swiftly swoops in to take your right, and slips his hand into yours while no one’s looking.
Belphie sets about gathering up as many cushions blankets as he can from around the room, sets up a little nest for himself at your feet, and promptly curls up against your legs to take a nap. Beel seems happy to just sit on the floor beside his twin, facing you - he stares so intensely at you that it’s as if he’s trying to memorise every single detail of your face.
Asmo, pouting furiously about having to relinquish his place by your side, begrudgingly sits by Satan - though he reaches around behind his brother just to touch you so many times that the extra distance doesn't mean much. Mammon, meanwhile, has a lengthy squabble with Levi, then ends up situating himself behind you. He has to stay standing for that, but he doesn’t seem to mind, as long as he can keep dropping his chin on the crown of your head whenever he feels like it.
There’s not much by way of talking for a few minutes. You get the feeling that the others are just kind of basking in you being here for now - getting used to finally having you around again. Soon enough, though, just the sight of you isn’t enough, and that’s when the questions come.
Asmo and Mammon ask you eagerly about what you’ve been doing during your time away - the question ‘did you miss us?’ crops up every few sentences, and you duly answer with an affirmative each time. Levi chimes in eagerly, and for once he doesn’t start rambling about anything at all; in fact, the way he keeps stopping to ask your thoughts is almost deliberate.
There’s nothing nefarious about it, though. Levi just wants to keep hearing you talking, wants you to keep smiling at him. It’s been so long since he’s heard and seen those things in real life; he’d honestly kind of forgotten the rush it gave him. You laugh a lot, too ,and each and every time it makes him melt a little more. Your power over him is really too formidable...
He's even brave enough to lean forward and press a shy kiss to your cheek. It doesn’t seem like that much after Asmo’s performance earlier, but it’s one heck of an accomplishment for the guy who basically passes away at the first hint of PDA.
In the meantime, Satan’s hand has remained firmly in yours. He’s unusually quiet throughout the conversation, only interjecting every now and then when he has an especially pertinent question or remark to make. Otherwise, he chooses to just listen and observe - to just drink in your presence. He looks as if he’s a million miles away, but it’s really quite the opposite - he is so very here in the moment, revelling in finally being able to hold your hand again.
He’s always been pretty good at keeping his cool, but he’s just so happy you’re here that he can’t keep up any pretences for long. As you recount an odd exchange you had with an old man in a museum, you feel a little weight drop onto your shoulder. You don’t make any comment on it, and just keep talking; taking your cue, the others stay quiet about the head that Satan is very obviously nestling against you as well.
(He’s still holding your hand, too. He only lets go of it briefly to let you stroke his hair for a bit, and the feeling kind of makes him want to cry. Not that he’s going to, after how emotionally open he’s already letting himself be in front of his brothers.)
You tell a lot of stories, most of them mundane ones. After all, the duties you ahd and the work you did weren’t anything to write home about; the only thing particularly impressive about any of them was how exhausting they could be. The only thing you can to do mitigate how boring the tales of your time away is to pick out the more amusing parts to keep the boys entertained.
The funny thing about it is - well, even though your stories aren’t funny, the boys keep acting like they are. And you can’t really quite tell whether the way Mammon’s laughing into your hair, arms coming to rest around your shoulder, is exaggerated or not.
A note about the laughter: it gets pretty loud. That’s not really an issue, since the House of Lamentation is the only residence in this general area, and it’s not like there are any neighbours around to file a noise complaint. But the sound does get someone’s attention - someone whose incorrigible workaholism kept them from noticing your initial arrival.
That someone is also rather irritated, based on the speed of their approaching footsteps. It’s not long before the common room door slams open with a bang.
“What is this racket—” comes Lucifer’s exasperated voice, and you look around just in time to see him stop short.
The others go very quiet - not out of fear, as one might think, but just to give the eldest a moment to take everything in. He stands there staring at you for a long, long time - rooted to the spot and wide-eyed like a deer caught in headlights.
Something very odd is going on in his chest right now. It’s like a firework has been lit inside him - it’s fizzing and sparking furiously, and the feeling is so intense that it almost burns, but somehow it’s in a good way. Perhaps he’s lucky that his face has frozen along with the rest of his body; if it hadn’t, he might have started smiling in the kind of way that would give away each and every one of his feelings in full, unrestrained detail.
You stand up slowly, offering Lucifer an slightly uncertain smile, though on the inside you’re practically bursting as well. His arrival is like the cherry on the cake; you’ve finally got all seven of your boys with you again.
Of course, Lucifer doesn’t engage in any of the dramatics that the others partook in. He doesn’t start crying, nor does he throw himself at you so aggressively that he knocks you to the floor. Lucifer is above these things, and so all he does is say, “It’s good to see you again.”
There’s a very brief pause. Lucifer’s brothers all turn to look at him disbelievingly. You can practically hear all of them asking the same thing - are you serious? That’s all you have to say?
Of course, Lucifer’s just a big idiot who’s self-conscious about letting his brothers see how downright smitten he is. A bit of a useless effort, really, considering they’re all already fully aware, and don’t plan to use it against him at all - after all, they’d be throwing stones from glass houses if they did.
Two can play at your game, Luci. You clear your throat and put on a reasonably business-like voice of your own. “Nice to see you, too, Lucifer.”
Evidently your aloof act is a little too good, because Lucifer’s face actually falls just a little. He catches the discrepancy almost as soon as he expresses it, though, and just nods. “...mm.”
The two of you just stand there and look at each other for a while. The rising tension is almost unbearable; finally, you groan and shake your head, then hold your arms out wide. ”C’mere. I missed you, you know.”
Lucifer coughs a little and glances away. “Well, I…”
He takes in a breath, and for a moment you almost expect him to refuse. But then he seems to drop any impression of restraint he might have been keeping up - in five long strides, he crosses the room and abruptly sweeps you up into his arms.
Any surprised sound you might have made is stifled into the front of his jacket. You’re quick to wrap your hands around him as well. The sheer relief of feeling you settle into his arms like this... it’s almost worth waiting so long for. He heaves a long, deep sigh.
It’s the sort of sigh that says ‘it has been UNBEARABLE without you and I am so TIRED’, among other things - the sort of sigh that tells you that Lucifer has not been having an easy time managing his brothers while you were gone. You can only imagine what it’s been like.
Of course, the others don’t let Lucifer keep you to himself for long. You’re going to have your work cut out for you, with seven demons eager for your company to take care of. Soon enough, the fatigue of your trip here is going to catch up with you - but you know you’ll be in good hands when it does.
Those brothers’ll calm down after a while, but for now there’s a lot of lost time to make up for. It’s just a matter of knowing where to start…
