Every time you stopped, he made a quiet sound of protest and shifted closer, clearly demanding more attention without even opening his eyes. You sighed but kept going, letting him get away with it again.

“Don’t stop,” Belphie mumbled, tail flicking lazily. “You said you’d stay.”

“I am staying,” you replied softly, adjusting the blanket around him and letting him use your arm like a pillow. He smiled, smug even in his sleepiness, fully aware that none of his brothers would be allowed to do this.

That was when a shadow fell over you. Lucifer's gaze moved from Belphie’s satisfied expression, to your hand in his hair. “MC, you do realize you’re encouraging this behavior.”

You opened your mouth to defend yourself, but Lucifer raised a finger. “No. If you keep indulging him like this, he will only get worse.”

Belphie tightened his hold on you and muttered, “You’re just jealous.”

Lucifer’s eye twitched.

You sighed, finally lifting your hand away from Belphie’s hair. He whined immediately, clearly offended. Lucifer watched with a look of relief mixed with frustration. “Thank you,” he said. “For everyone’s sake... please remember he is still a demon.”

it’s 2 am and i lowkey am going insane, let me go to sleeppp

lucifer:

- sensitive but won’t let it show

- sometimes he slips up but you really can’t tell a soul or else

- dont even get me started on how sensitive his wings are especially when you touch them

Mammon:

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

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

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

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

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

Pt. 1 Tags: gender neutral reader, free use, public sex, semi-public sex, minor dom/sub, somnophilia, minor food play, oral, improper use of magic and spells, exhibitionism, cum eating, everyone is a switch in my mind

Satan has never really had a preference for where he takes you—his room, yours, the house library, the school library, an empty classroom, the middle of the hallway—as long as he can bury his cock in your heat, he's happy. That being said, he does especially love fucking you somewhere Lucifer will hear, or, even better, see. Knowing that his eldest brother is being forced to listen in while he pulls the prettiest little noises out of his favorite human brings him almost as much pleasure as actually using your body. 

And let's not skip over his love of public spaces—more often than not, a study or reading date will end in you pushed against shelves of books or bent over an old wooden table, the mercy of Satan's hand pressed to your lips a rare occurrence. If you want to keep it quiet, you're on your own—and he'll do everything he can to make it as hard as possible, his cock hitting all the right places in your tight little holes to force stuttering moans bubbling up out of your throat. 

And oh, if you're willing, he sure would love to practice some spells! There's no such thing as too much studying, and don't you agree that you could use a bit more help? His brain will immediately go to the possibility of using a weak binding spell, making your body entirely vulnerable to anything he wanted to do—or maybe even something to give you cute fluffy ears and a nice long tail, his perfect little kitty to pet and pamper, to tease and fuck; but he wouldn’t be against having the tables turned…

Asmodeus takes his job as the Avatar of Lust very, very seriously—if you’re not weak, dizzy, and brainless from pleasure, is life really worth living? He takes advantage more than any of the others, with especial joy coming from pulling you away from life’s meaningless boredomes; from the chores Lucifer assigned, from dinner duty, from lonesome studying, from test taking—anywhere he can get his skilled hands, tongue, cock, or voice on your sweet body.

Silent footsteps will creep up behind you in the kitchen—never when you’re holding something dangerous, he doesn’t want to risk harm coming to his beautiful face or his lovely human—going entirely unnoticed until a sharp rip reaches your ears, followed close behind by wet warmth licking a stripe over your sex, Asmo moaning low at your taste. Or maybe you’ll find a hand down the front of your uniform during Seductive Speechcraft class, masking the little sounds you can’t hold back as your body’s natural reaction to his magic.

Really though, the main thing that gets him riled up is being able to take you where everyone will see. Front and center stage of a nightclub, legs spread wide for a livestream, the main course of his many parties—Asmo wants all of the Devildom to see his perfect darling at the time you look your best; face twisted with the pleasure he gives you. Your demon isn’t a selfish lover—why should your beauty be kept all for himself?

Beel, on the other hand, wasn’t entirely sure why you wanted to offer yourself up freely—his sex drive isn’t as high as most of his brothers, and he feels like you fulfill him perfectly, he’d never ask for more than you give. The next time he sees you in the kitchen, bent just slightly over a boiling pot for dinner, he understands. The smell of food, and your offer, sparked something in him—he’d hoisted you up on the countertop, brushing aside a couple of used mixing bowls and utensils so he’d have enough room to lean you back and fuck his cock deep inside you. 

While he filled you, he also filled himself—taking advantage of the space to smear warm food over your skin and lick it back off, his stomach growling impatiently. The combination of your little—in comparison—body, mixed with the lovely scents of sweat, steam, and cooking, had him cumming faster than usual; growling low in his throat as he worked his spend deeper with shallow thrusts. When he finished, pulling away from between your limp legs, he dropped to his knees—eating the mess from between your thighs as though it was the most amazing thing in the world.

That tends to be where you find yourself fucked when it comes to the second youngest, taking advantage of the accessible food so he can sate himself in every way at once—it’s about the closest he’s gotten to the celestial realm since his fall. Every so often though, you might find yourself at Beel’s whims in another setting—the school cafeteria, his thick fingers rapidly pumping in and out of your needy hole with one hand, stuffing his face with the other; or maybe Hell’s Kitchen, stashed away in the darkest corner where waiters can hardly tell what the avatar of gluttony is doing to you.

Belphie is usually too tired to engage in spontaneous sex like the others; he likes to keep it basic—curled up together in bed, legs tangled and skin flushed as he lazily fucks his cock deep inside. His hips only speed up at the very end, pushing you both towards the edge until you cum just as softly and tiredly as you’d started, slow pulses and breathy sighs rather than high-pitched moans and shaking limbs. And, fun bonus, he gets to fall asleep immediately after—using you as a body pillow.

However, there is one big exception. Late at night, when the whole house is silent save for the normal groans and creaks of ancient architecture, Belphie sometimes finds himself wide awake, no amount of tossing and turning making him comfortable. Those days, he’ll seek you out—slip beneath your covers, wrap his limbs tight enough that your slumbering body can’t squirm away, and slip his cock between your thighs. His hands will snake around your front, softly groping your stomach as his fingers dip low enough to play with you properly.