Mc That Likes Touching/tracing Their Pact Marks? Like They Randomly Tap On It Pat It Or Trace Random

Mc that likes touching/tracing their pact marks? Like they randomly tap on it pat it or trace random shapes on it?

I'm not sure if this is exactly what you had in mind, if not I'm sorry! Also sorry for taking so long I have no excuse lol. I couldn't think of anything for Asmo or barb but I might write one for them later if I think of something.

Enjoy!!

Lucifer-

Lucifer had never been in a pact before you so he had absolutely no clue what to really expect. He was sitting in his room doing paperwork when he felt a gentle, very gentle tapping on his inner wrist, gentle tapping that turned into small circular motions then back to tapping. He moved his wrist to his face to observe the spot and only saw the small star that symbolized his pact with you. “I better look into this.” He muttered to himself before setting down his pen and pulling out his phone, he spent a good twenty minutes looking but couldn't find anything helpful. “Perhaps lord Diavalo will know what this is.” He thought as he opened the prince's contact and hit the call button. The phone rang only a single time before Diavalo picked up, “Lucifer? You don’t normally call around this time. Did something happen?” The prince knew something must have happened for the firstborn to call out of the blue. “My apologies Diavalo, about twenty minutes ago a felt a strange tapping on my wrist, right where my pact mark is. I'm not sure why it's bothering me so much but I wanted to know if you knew what it could be.” A large grin made its way to Diavalos face, “I’m not surprised that you don't know,  you’ve never been in a pact before, I also had this feeling before but Barbados explained it to me. Your feeling what MC is feeling where the pact mark is. MC tends to caress the marks, it's actually quite comforting once you know it's them.” Lucifer hung up and set his phone down, he covered his mouth with his hands as a heavy blush adorned his face, he didn’t know why but to him it felt so intimate in a different way than he was used to. It was such a wholesome sort of affection that Lucifer had never even imagined before and for some reason, it flustered him like nothing else. He felt the gentle circular motions again and nearly melted in his seat, he felt like a kid with their first crush but at the moment it didn’t matter.

Mammon-

It took him a while to figure it out, he figured it was some weird pact thing and thought it would go away. It didn't go away, it never irritated him like he thought, it felt like someone was tracing symbols on his shoulder and sometimes on his chest and it was really comforting. He was feeling it right now at the casino, he was about to recklessly bet a lot of money but when the feeling started he suddenly felt like he should call it a night. You were the only one who could ever get him to quit early but you weren’t here right now so why was he suddenly feeling responsible?

He got his answer as soon as he stepped into his room. There you were, laying on his bed and tracing the feathers of his pact mark on your shoulder and he suddenly felt stupid for not putting the pieces together before. He was feeling you and your worry for him is what made him stop before he went too far. “Oi, what are you doing?” He acted annoyed but his heart was melting. When you heard his voice you perked up immediately, “Your back early!” Mammon couldn’t stop his smile at your happy expression, “Yeah, just felt responsible tonight ya know? Also, I couldn't just leave my human all alone now could I?” As he spoke he climbed into his bed with you and pulled you close to his chest, now that you were unable to see his face he let his smile turn love-struck as he held you close. 

Leviathan-

He fell out of his chair the first time he felt it, it scared the crap out of him, “Ahh!” He pulled up his pant leg to see if something was crawling on him but saw nothing, “Levi! What's wrong?” You sat up from where you lied in his bathtub bed and looked over at him, “N-nothing! I.. I just felt something touching my thigh.” He calmed down from the shock and got back into his chair. You knew, you knew immediately what he felt but weren’t going to tell him, not yet anyway. You waited until he was comfortably in his chair again then traced the pact mark starting from your ankle and going up to your thigh, Levi jumped again and once again pulled his pant leg up to check if something was there. 

You couldn't keep it together and started laughing, “Why are you laughing at me!” He cried, you quickly got out of the tub and sat down in his lap, giggling more at his flustered expression. “Levi look.” you put your hand on your thigh where part of the mark was and gave a squeeze, in turn, Levi felt a gentle squeeze on his own thigh. "The pact mark connects us more than I thought!" You giggled again as Levi wrapped his arms around your shoulders and hid his face on the back of your neck. "D-don't scare me like that!" He kept his flustered face hidden against your neck. "Ok, I'm sorry Sweetheart." You took one of his hands in yours and gave a gentle squeeze.

Satan-

He already did extensive research on pacts, when Asmo first made a pact with Solomon he wanted to know everything there was to know about them. He even forced Asmo to answer a ton of questions regarding the pact. He began doing his own experiments when he entered his pack with you though and today's test would be the pact mark itself. “MC, are you busy right now?” He knew you weren’t since you were only sitting on the couch with a snoozing Belphegor on your lap. “Not at the moment, why?” You turned your gaze from your phone to him, “I require your immediate assistance with something. Would you mind joining me in my room?” You looked down to Belphie then back to Satan, “Sorry, Belphie is-” “Great, thank you MC I greatly appreciate it.” He grabbed the collar of Belphies shirt and gently tossed him off your lap and onto the ground, “Shall we?” Satan smiled innocently at you while offering you his hand. ‘You are so mean, take me.” You accepted his hand and he pulled you to your feet and began leading you away. “Asshole.” You heard Belphie mutter bitterly as you walked.

Earlier when he and Asmo were doing some ‘detective’ work he felt something caressing his hip, gently tracing the mark around his hips that matched yours. He immediately abandoned the detective work to test the theory he just thought up. “So what's all this about?” You asked, “Just a little experiment, don't worry it's nothing big.” Satan said as he let go of your hand, “Could I see my pact mark?” He asked, he seemed almost giddy, “of course.” You held back a giggle as you lifted your shirt just a little and tugged your pants down just enough to fully show off the thorned vine mark that wrapped around your hips. Satan's smile widened when he saw it, he always loved seeing his mark on you. “Now just hold still a moment.” He moved to put his hand on your waist but stopped before he made contact, “may I?” as soon as he got your approval his hand met your skin and he gently traced the mark that went around your waist, feeling a similar feeling himself, “I knew it.” He smiled proudly, “Knew what?” You were doing your best not to squirm but the way he traced the mark ticked. “I can feel when our shared mark is being touched. I felt it not long ago and had to come test it to be sure.” You rolled your eyes and moved to kiss his forehead, “You're such a nerd. I love you.” Satan ignored the nerd comment and wrapped you in a comforting embrace.

Beelzebub-

He always gets this love-struck look on his face whenever he feels you touching the mark and sometimes(always) will seek you out. "MC, there you are." He feels so happy when he sees you absentmindedly tracing the mark while scrolling on your phone or doing any other activity. "Beel! Perfect timing, I was just about to go looking for you. Do you wanna go to madam screams with me?” Beel nodded, “We should invite Belphie too. Do you know where he is?” Beel asked, usually Belphie would be using you as a pillow but was nowhere to be seen at the moment. “Nope, how about we go look for him?” You reached out to Beel and he pulled you to your feet and into a tight hug. “Whoa, your awfully cuddly today!” You weren’t complaining though, “Sorry, I just wanna hold you.” He said sheepishly, “I don't mind! Hold me all you want.” He brought his hand up to where his pact mark was on your neck and very gently traced the web pattern. “Is the mark what made you feel so mushy?” You asked with an amused smile, “Yeah, I get happy when I feel you touch it.” You felt your face heat up and wrapped your arms around Beel the best you could. “You’re so cute!” you heard snickering not far from where you stood and turned to see Belphie laughing at the two of you. “Cringe.” You rolled your eyes at him, “Shut up Belphie I know you wanna join us!” You reached out to him and he eagerly joined your hug. “Wanna go to Madan screams with us Belphie?” Beel asked him after a few moments, “How could I say no? Let's go.” 

Belphegor-

When he feels it he feels very cocky about it because he knows it's not a spot you can get to easily considering it's in between your shoulder blades. He knows you’re thinking of him when he feels your touch on his matching mark. “What's got you grinning like that Belphie?” Mammon asked, “MC.” He responded vaguely, “How? They’re not even here right now there at home sick.” Mammon rolled his eyes at his youngest brother, “I’m gonna go see them. Tell Beel where I went.” Belphie got up and left the classroom, ignoring Mamon telling him that Lucifer would be mad.

“MC, there you are.” He entered your room so silently that you didn't even notice him until he said something. “Belphie? What are you doing here?” You asked, you were lying on your stomach with your hand reaching up your back to touch Belphies pact mark. “I felt like coming back to take care of you, is that so wrong?” You knew he only came because he felt you touching the mark and that's exactly what you wanted. “I’m glad you came but won’t Luci be mad?” You asked, “Ew, don't call him Luci in front of me. Now scoot over.” He invited himself into your bed and Kowalad himself around you, “Belphie what if you get sick?” You relaxed into his embrace but still worried about the demon. “You’re human illnesses have no effect on me.” He murmured before promptly passing out. You shook your head with a grin, before falling asleep yourself.

Diavolo-

He gets the biggest smile on his face when he feels you touching his mark and it only makes him happier to see you doing it. When you’re in meetings and he sees you idly tracing the mark he had to restrain himself from pulling you to his side and holding you for the rest of the meeting. “Diavolo?” He was snapped from his thoughts by Lucifer, “Oh sorry. I got a little distracted.” Dia had been shamelessly staring at you the entire meeting like a lovestruck puppy. “Perhaps we should exclude MC from these meetings and inform them of everything after, seeing as you can't keep your eyes off them for even a moment.” Barbados said with a dangerous smile, “Now now there's no need for that! MC come sit beside me.” Your amused giggle made Diavolo's heart flutter, “Will you be able to focus better with me by your side?” You asked, “I believe so, now if you would.” You got up from your spot beside Lucifer and sat beside Diavolo. He moved your arm to rest on his thigh so he could trace his pact mark himself.

love's no problem in my hands

includes: barbatos x gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

wc: 1.5k | rated g | m.list | cross-posted on ao3

a/n: just had to get this out quick i swear im on hiatus lololol. for @messysketchyobeyme as part of the @omsecretsanta2022 event. i hope you enjoy!!

please reblog <33

Now, he keeps his feelings close to his chest, aware that he’s not the only one who holds them for you. That knowledge should be souring, should bring him to his senses, but it doesn’t. Maybe it’s because of you, because of how you make time for him, make him feel like the only demon in the world when you look at him, make him believe, if only for a second, that impossibilities are possible. Okay, yeah, it’s definitely because of you.

So he holds his feelings, keeps them to himself, and it’s okay. He’s not prone to jealousy, or possessiveness, has learned over the many, many years to be satisfied with what he has, and what he has is more than enough. He has Diavolo and a place in a wonderful community filled with wonderful people, and your friendship, which is more than he could’ve dreamed of.

Barbatos doesn’t know how it started. 

Well, alright, he knows when he first noticed it. But he has a feeling the feelings had been there, building, culminating, for a lot longer than that. 

He first noticed his affection for you on a spring day, one of the warmest the year had seen so far. You’d shed your uniform jacket, rolled up the sleeves, and gone outside during lunch, claiming the quad as your own. Claiming the attention of everyone on the quad. And like moths to a flame, everyone had followed, as they always did. Him included. 

“It feels so nice out,” you’d chirped, face turned up to the non-existent sun, and Barbatos had become aware of a buzz under his skin, a curious warmth that he’d never really felt before. It didn’t take a genius for him to place the feelings, and he accepted them a lot easier than he thought he would, with them clicking into place like the last piece of a previously hidden puzzle. He finally understood what everyone was talking about, finally understood why people were pushed to invent, to create, to conquer in the name of love.

Of course, while he was going through all of these realizations and acceptions, time had moved forward, and you were now surrounded by everyone, with him on the outside, like always, slightly distanced, the few feet like an uncrossable gorge. But you, you with your crooked half-smile and wonderful gleam in your eyes, had looked through, to him, smile somehow widening just for him, and that had made it all okay, made that gorge seem like nothing more than the few feet it actually was.

Now, he keeps his feelings close to his chest, aware that he’s not the only one who holds them for you. That knowledge should be souring, should bring him to his senses, but it doesn’t. Maybe it’s because of you, because of how you make time for him, make him feel like the only demon in the world when you look at him, make him believe, if only for a second, that impossibilities are possible. Okay, yeah, it’s definitely because of you.

So he holds his feelings, keeps them to himself, and it’s okay. He’s not prone to jealousy, or possessiveness, has learned over the many, many years to be satisfied with what he has, and what he has is more than enough. He has Diavolo and a place in a wonderful community filled with wonderful people, and your friendship, which is more than he could’ve dreamed of.

“What are you thinking so hard about?” you tease, poking him lightly with the blunt end of your pencil. He blinks, coming back to himself, coming back to the club meeting, and gives you a half smile. The club was one you both co-ran, some ‘community wellness’ thing that you were a lot more passionate about than he. But he put his everything in it, for you.

“I apologize, I must have been distracted. Remind me of our discussion,” 

“Barbatos? Distracted?” Your face is bright, cheerful. “Who are you and what have you done with the real Barbatos?” 

“Funny, really,” he returns, and the laugh he is gifted with is quickly saved, pressed into the scrapbook of his memories, to be taken out and admired every now and again, treasured close to his chest. 

“Anyway…” you pull him back into the meeting with vigor, with enthusiasm, as with everything you do, and he lets himself be pulled willingly. What a fool he must be, to take the chains from your hand and wrap them around his wrist himself.

Once the meeting is over you check your D.D.D., cursing. He directs an inquisitive look at you, and you grin guiltily. The school is dark, and mostly empty, and it feels like the two of you are the only ones in the world.

“It’s a lot later than I thought it was,” you explain. “Is there any way I can beg a ride off of you? I’d be really thankful.” 

“I suppose,” Barbatos replies, making a show of being long-suffering. You draw out his humor in a way no one else does, and he’s grateful, so immensely grateful, that you see his dry, deadpan remarks for what they are and don’t just think he’s dreadfully boring. 

“Thank you so much!” You squeeze his side in a hug, apparently not feeling the staggering static that emanates from where the two of you touch, that sends shivers of electricity up and down his entire frame. “I owe you one.” 

“You always say that,” he accuses lightly. “At this point, I believe you owe me a lot more than that.” 

“Probably.” You shrug, unrepentant. He really shouldn’t find that shamelessness so charming. 

Being in a car with you is like torture. Torture he can stand, revels in, delights in. 

You’re close, within touching range. Not that he’d ever put his hands on you without your express and explicit permission, but the forced intimacy gets to him. You’re so comfortable in his car, shown by the way you commandeer the radio, the way you dig through his glovebox like it was yours for the taking. 

(Everything of his is yours for the taking, for the having, for the keeping.) 

“What’s this?” you ask, more to yourself than anything, but he looks over anyway. You’ve got a CD in your grip, reading the back. 

“That,” he says, “is my favorite CD. So be careful with it, please.”

“It’s your favorite?” 

He nods, and you give him that crooked smile, ejecting the CD that was in the player, exchanging it out. 

“We don’t have to listen to it,” he tries, and you wave him off. 

“Of course we do! It’s your favorite, and I want to hear it too!” 

 You pull pieces of him to the surface, almost by accident, and he stands there in front of you, exposed. But you’re always careful with the new parts of him that are revealed, treating them as preciously and as kindly as you’d treat an invaluable glass sculpture.

The first track starts and he keeps his gaze on the road, humming along. He can feel your eyes on him, and eventually, eventually gives into the urge to look over, meeting your eyes. 

“I can see why you like it,” you murmur, quiet for once. “It’s very…” you hold the words in your mouth, tasting them, savoring them. “It’s very you.” 

“Thanks, I think.”

“You’re quite welcome.” 

It’s quiet in the car, aside from the CD, of course, but he doesn’t mind the silence. Never has. Others feel it as a pressure, but he doesn’t, and knows, despite your propensity to talk and laugh and be in constant motion, don’t either. It’s a comfort, to be in silence with you. 

The drive to the House of Lamentation takes forever. Isn’t nearly long enough.

When he pulls into the circle drive, past the immaculately pruned bushes and other ostentatious landscaping, he resists the urge to go slower, to coast at a snail’s pace. He’s better than that. Barely. 

“Thanks for the ride,” you say as he pulls to a stop, lowering the volume of the music. “I really appreciate it.” 

“Of course,” he says. “You know me. Barbatos: butler, glorified babysitter, and part-time chauffeur.” 

He’s rewarded again with your laugh, but it fades into something thoughtful, something intimate.

“You’re so much more than that,” you say, and when he looks over at you in muted surprise, you’re not returning his gaze, instead focused somewhere in the far-off distance, maybe in the far-off past. Either way, you blink and come out of it quickly, but don’t take your words back. Instead, you do something, that even with all of his overthinking, his planning, his habit of examining every possibility, he’d never seen coming: 

You lean over and kiss him on the cheek.

Your lips are warm, and dry, and un-lingering. He stares at you in shock as you pull away, heart pounding a mile a minute. 

“Well,” you say with another laugh, much more high-pitched and nervous than the others he’d heard from you, “thanks again. I’ll be going in now.” 

You slide out of his car quickly, crossing the distance between it and the door in seconds. He almost thinks you’re not going to look back, until you do, that damned crooked smile on your lips, fluttering your fingers in a wave, even as embarrassment and joy war in your eyes. 

It takes a long time, too long, for him to pull himself together enough to pull away from the House of Lamentation, and he has to take the most convoluted way home he can think of to fully rid himself of his blush– a herculean task, considering that kiss plays on repeat in his head, the memory of your smile almost tangible. Who would have thought a simple kiss on the cheek would have been enough to bring the always-composed, always-distant Barbatos back down to the realm of unstoppable, human emotion?

Maybe you returning his feelings isn’t as far-fetched a possibility as he’d thought. 

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

Dadmas Day 1: New Baby

pairing: Hawks/Keigo Takami x f!reader

word count: 1.5k

warnings: a little bit of new parent anxiety mentioned, but that's about it. all fluff <3 also your baby has wings.

notes: he would be the best dad and no one can tell me different <3 scared out of his mind, I'm sure, but so, SO good to you and your little baby :(

Being married to the fastest man around certainly comes with it’s fair share of perks, especially when you’re a new parent.

You hear the warbled cry over the video monitor and it wakes you from your much needed slumber. You'd only just gotten back to sleep and you need so much more rest, but you know that you’re not likely to get it. Not with a 10 week old. Not when your husband works the hours that he does.

He didn't want to have to go back to work so soon. He tried and he tried to stay away, so that he could be home with you for the first few months, but the Commission isn't exactly an organization that he can say no to. You were just grateful that you got the couple of months with him that you did have.

The past couple weeks have been an adjustment period for everyone in your precious little family, but you were all managing. You know he worries himself sick about you both when he's on duty and you can only imagine how tired he must be by the time he arrives home, but he always insists on taking over and letting you get some rest.

You rise from the bed, wiping the sleep from your eyes as you shuffle into your slippers to head down the hall, already looking forward to Keigo breezing in through the door to usher you towards the couch for a breather.

You silently hope that maybe, just maybe, your son will fall back to sleep on his own. Maybe you can head back to bed right now and get just a few more minutes of sleep.

To your surprise, the baby does fall quiet. His whine tapers off and you hear him coo oh so quietly. It must be a miracle, you think to yourself.

But then a wave of panic hits you. That nagging thought that always pops up unwelcome in your brain: what if he's quiet, because something happened?

Trying to fight combat the negative thoughts, you tell yourself that he's fine. He must be learning to soothe himself. That's a good thing! There's no need to worry and you certainly don't want to wake him if that's the case.

Still, you scurry back to nab the monitor from your bedroom, turning it on with hopes that you'd be able to see his tiny little chest moving up and down. Maybe catch one of his adorably petite wings twitching in his sleep. Something, anything.

Full blown panic sets in when the monitor powers on and you see nothing. Just an empty crib.

Your heart skips a beat and you almost drop the monitor as you go to take off, but then you hear it.

"Yeah, you're okay, little guy," you hear your husband coo, just barely catching a glimpse of his wing before he strolls back in front of the camera, gently rocking your baby boy back to sleep.

"Mommy needs her sleep, y'know. I think between the two of us, we're gonna end up driving her crazy one day, so let's at least let her get some rest, yeah?" He continues whispering to the child as he paces about the room. "You need sleep too, so you can keep growing, though I can't believe how big you are already."

You clap a hand over your chest, tears welling in your eyes as your heart swells. Maybe the influx of hormones or the delirium of not getting any rest had something to do with the onslaught of tears that begin trickling freely over your cheeks, but it mostly had to do with thr fact that you married such a good man.

He wasn't convinced that he'd be a good dad, despite how badly he wanted kids. He was terrified that maybe he'd end up like one of his parents, despite how you assured him that you knew that would never happen. He was too pure of a soul to let it.

Still, for all your reassurances, he never really believed he'd be great at this, but right now you were seeing the proof. You could only hope that he was able to see it too.

How could he think he was anything less than a great father so far? Even on nights when it seemed like your son would never stop crying, he remained calm enough for the both of you. He was always doing more than his fair share, saying that he had plenty to make up for, since you're the one who had to suffer through labor. Even before the baby was born, he'd surprised you one day by filling the nursery with ay and every little thing you'd mentioned wanting for it. He took the weekend off to make sure that everything was just right for your little one before they even came home.

And here he was, swooping into the nursery—even though he was supposed to be on patrol—to soothe the fussing infant, so that you could get a modicum of more sleep.

You set the monitor back down and travel down the hall to slowly and quietly swing the nursery door open. Keigo freezes in his tracks, though he keeps rocking the baby while he stares at you as if he'd just been caught redhanded.

"I had the monitor app open and I know that you'd only just put him down," he stars explaining, speaking quickly and quietly as he starts shifting his weight from one foot to another. "I was close, so I figured I'd just pop in and take care of it, so you wouldn't have to get up."

"Baby, do you think I'm upset with you or something?" You laugh, though the sound is barely audible.

You're aiming to stay quiet as you approach so that the baby who's nodding off in his arms continues drifting off to sleep. A warm smile tugs at your lips as you look down at the cherubic figure all bundled up in his strong arms. The little wings definitely help him look even more like an angel. Getting a baby swaddled while having to mind said wings is a bit of a chore, but it's worth it to see them the plush crimson feathers ruffling as his eyes close and he lets out the tiniest, cutest yawn you've ever heard.

Keigo's also briefly distracted by the noise and you catch the look on his face when he glances down at your little bundle of joy. You've seen the way he smiles at you. How soft and warm and full of radiance that smile is, but still, that's nothing compared to how he looks at the little miracle that you'd made together. It makes your heart swell with pride all over again.

"No. I mean—," he shrugs, looking a little helpess in a very cute and adorably sincere way as he peeks over at you before carefully laying your son back down in his crib. "I don't want you to think that I don't think you can handle this or something like that."

"Baby, it's okay," you say softly, taking another step closer to wrap your arms around him from behind and gently nuzzle your face between his wings. "I know that you don't think that. I know that you're just doing everything you can for us and I can't even begin to tell you how much I appreciate it."

He smiles to himself, looking down at his slumbering son as he folds his arms over yours, just enjoying your embrace for a moment.

"You both deserve nothing but the best. I really don't mind rushing back home for a few if it means you get another hour or sleep. You deserve it," he whispers, giving your arm a squeeze before he steps away to turn and pull you into his arms.

"And that's exactly why I will never stop telling you what a great dad you are," you reply, smiling softly as you drape your arms around his neck to pull him into a kiss. "Pretty good husband too."

It's dark in the room, but you can feel the heat rising in his neck to flood his face as you start walking backwards to guide him out of the nursery.

"Just doin' my best," he murmurs, mirror your smile as he sends a feather off to close the door behind you once you step out into the hall.

"Well," you say as you begin to walk your fingers along his pecs. "Since I am already awake and you're here..do you have some time?"

His eyebrows raise, hands slipping to your hips as he brings them flush against his own. "I think I can make some time. If you're sure you don't wanna just head back to bed," he adds sincerely, checking your expression to make sure.

"You two are worth losin' sleep for," you whisper, smiling as you lean in to press your lips to his again as you tug him into the bedroom.

Congrats on 500 ♥

For the event: I think about Mammon who is very horny, but feels guilty about it because MC looks too innocent. Some kind of hurt/comfort? Then it turns out that MC is pretty horny too ~

Mammon really struggled to stop himself sometimes. At least when it came to his urges, whether it was his greed or something else. Throughout knowing you, he’d always find himself feeling so strongly for you, the urge to touch you and make you his, but he knew he must wait for you to let him. So he’d take to touching himself, rubbing out one every chance he could.

It wasn’t until you two were together that he finally felt comfy with expressing himself around you but there was one thing that he could never tell you. His thumb would hover over send each time he wanted to send you something dirty but he would always delete the message. When you were nuzzling into him mid-cuddle and your bottom would brush against him, he’d tell himself not to say anything and wait.

After all, humans like you were so innocent! He remembers back when he last went to the human world, sex was so taboo! It was all missionary and in the dark under the blankets. Sure, he knows things have changed, he’s watched plenty of human movies, and listens to human music… but that’s not you. Everybody is different right? He’d be… defiling you, almost. Plus, no human can compare to a demon’s horniness!

You, on the other hand, thought completely different from him. Society is changing and so is the view on sex, so is the view on how much sex and how kinky the sex is. You wanted him, really, really bad. It was so hard to tell him, especially since each time you’d get ready to make a move, he’d shy away and avoid it. Did he not find you sexually appealing? You definitely found him sexy! You wanted to ask him outright what the issue was, but what if he just confirmed your assumption?

You’d brush your bottom against his crotch, waiting for a response, just for him to reposition and not respond. You’d start a conversation around sex and he’d be quiet or completely miss the point. It had gotten to the point that you were just desperate. And now that you’re situated on top of him, tongue in his mouth feeling him up and down, you know exactly what he’s going to do.

“Mammon, I want you.” You huffed as your mouths separated.

“Mm.” He continued to kiss you, his only response a grunt.

You pushed him away. “Do you want me?” You looked at him, his eyes wide and flitting away.

“Yeah.” His response was quiet.

You felt your stomach sink and you looked down trying to hide the tears forming in your eyes. He looked back at you and saw the change in demeanor.

“What’s wrong?” You looked away from him, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. His heart was beating like crazy. “Mc?”

You nodded. “I’m fine.” Rushing the words out as fast as possible. “It’s okay, I just need to get up.” You left his lap and rushed to your room, leaving Mammon alone on his couch. He watched you leave, wondering if he should follow you.

You settled in your room and sat with your back against the door, holding your knees against your chest. You didn’t know if you wanted to cry or not, to let all the emotions fly. Your phone dinged.

Mammon: did I do something? Whatever I did I’m sorry I didn’t mean to upset you please Mc.

You looked at the message and tried to think of what to say.

Mammon: I’m really sorry.

Mammon: can ya say something?

You tentatively moved your thumbs over your screen.

Mc: am I not attractive to you?

Mammon really couldn’t believe his eyes when he received the message. Are you kidding?

Mammon: ain’t no way that’s the problem. You’re more than beautiful. Might as well take Asmo’s place as the prettiest in the Devildom.

You felt flattered but that wasn’t what you wanted to hear.

Mc: why do we only ever just make out?

Mammon: wdym?

Mc: I want to know why don’t you touch me or you know

Mammon’s heart skipped a beat, he stood up from the couch and started to walk your way, still texting.

Mammon: I do want to touch you. But I never think you do.

You felt your lip quiver.

Mc: I always want you.

Mammon knocked on your door. “Can I come in?” You stood up in front of the door hesitated before letting him in. He came face to face with you, little tears coating your face complemented by your puffy eyes and strained face. “Mc, I’m sorry I make you feel that way.” You wrapped your arms around him, both so he couldn’t see the tears in your eyes and to also get that comfort you desired.

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. You shouldn’t ever feel unwanted. Or undesirable or whatever.” He kissed your neck, not in a sexual way but in an ‘I love you’ way. “I’m obsessed with ya, in every way. Yer friggin’ perfect.”

You continued to hold him, not wanting to pull away. You tried to calm your emotions and let the tears remain in so you could talk to him.

He could tell you were trying to calm down. “I’m sorry I never do anything. I always think that—that you—well, I dunno how to explain.” He was struggling to find a way to explain your assumed innocence. “You seem so innocent. So humanly.” He settled on that. You found yourself confused by his words.

Humans! Innocent!!??? Does he know anything about humanity?

You actually laughed a little, confusing him. “Why’re ya laughin’?”

“Humans are so not innocent.” You couldn’t help back let go to get a look at his face, which was was just the way you expected it. Dumbfounded. “Jeez, you demons and your assumptions about humans. I don’t know a single innocent human. Do you just think we are a bunch of Lukes running around?” You were now really laughing especially with his newfound face. He looked almost like a… fish?

“No! I just… okay.” He sighed and breathed in sharply. “Let me just get it out. I didn’t think you were as horny as me. I still don’t. Demons and temptation, ya know.”

“Mammon, that makes no sense. The average human has a sexual thought every few minutes or seconds or something like that. We literally have 100 year lifespans we sorta are inclined to always think about sex. And you demons, millennia long lifespans. You don’t have to have babies 24/7.” You weren’t crying at all anymore and now Mammon was absolutely in shock.

“Every few seconds!!! No way!! Uh uh.”

“Let’s look it up.”

Mammon shuffled through his ddd and then plastered his phone in your face. “Told ya. It’s 19 times a day.”

“Uh, Mammon, it ranges from like 19 to 388.”

“Only in men!”

“Well I probably think about sex with you about 388 times a day.”

“Pssh. Then I’m probably in the thousands.”

“No, Mammon you don’t think enough for that.”

He wanted to say something but he ended up just looking at you. You could tell all that tension from earlier was already making a return at least for him.

“You okay, now?” You nodded. “Let’s go back to my room.” You nodded again and took his hand. When you got to his room, he got red and stopped in his tracks. “You wanna have sex now?”

“Mammon, didn’t we just talk about this? If you reject me now, I’m never looking at you again.”

He grinned and licked his lips, pulling you into his room by the waist. “Clearly, we have no choice!”

Note: this is canon. Change my mind.

daydreaming about husband! dabi, who tries his best to gift you the christmas of your dreams.

gn! reader, husband! dabi, ex-villain! dabi, fluff, romance, christmas, wedding rings, semi-angst (if you squint), dabi is: trying

1.4k (unedited)

a/n ~ it’s midnight in the uk; merry christmas everyone! ♡ wishing you all a v happy holiday ♡

reblogs are appreciated ~

it’s mid-winter, and ever since the celebration of your marriage—just a mere six months ago—this is the first of what you hope to be many christmases together, but when you voice your excitement in the form of a giddy little laugh as you gush something about decorating the christmas tree, dabi doesn’t entirely get it.

it’s no secret that his adolescent years weren’t exactly picture-perfect, but still, he has some memory of the busyness of the kitchen as his mother had stressed over baking dozens upon dozens of mince pies (the traditional kind, as a then-youngster natsuo had gone through a phase of refusing to eat anything that wasn’t meat-based). but, spending majority of his adult life as a villain means that it’s been many years since he’s been privy to the hustle and bustle of preparing for the holidays, along with the mad dash of last minute preparations, because, believe it or not, villains are usually a tad too busy to be thinking about christmas presents. and even though your million-watt smile is enough to brighten the gentle twinkle in his eye when he catches you peeking at him whilst busying yourself baking those very same mince pies that his mother had made all those years ago, he suspects that your enthusiasm is slightly played upon, all for his sake.

but, despite the fact that he’s evidently not as excited as you are—because, really, he doesn’t need the presents that you keep stuffing underneath the abstractedly-decorated tree—he still goes out of his way to buy you a gift of your own.

and it’s carnage.

he hasn’t a clue what he’s looking for, second-guessing each time he spots something that he suspects that you may like, and after a particularly dreadful venture into the local bookstore, he has no choice but to leave when he becomes dangerously close to setting the place on fire. the trials and errors of gift shopping seem to serve only to frustrate him further, because despite the fact that you now bare his surname, he soon realises that, actually, there’s a lot that he doesn’t know about you.

he doesn’t know your favourite foods, mainly because he’s never been a particularly fussy eater himself, so he doesn’t have a favourite of his own. that, and as far as he’s noticed, you don’t harbour any strange eating habits, so he’s never bothered to ask if there’s anything that you don’t enjoy. the same goes with drink; he’s never been a heavy drinker, but when the two you do indulge, you’ve always been more than happy to share whatever liquor he’s chosen for the night. there’s a horrifyingly quiet moment when he dares to ponder if you’d simply done so just to please him, and that leaves a sour taste on his tongue.

clothes are also a no-go. he’s only ever been interested in removing yours, and usually, it is you who is in charge of updating even his own wardrobe whenever the seasons change. he’s also loathe to admit that he doesn’t actually know your dress size, pausing upon the realisation in the middle of a clothing store—that looks far too obnoxious for both your tastes (and his own)—so abruptly that some poor lady almost chins him as she’s force to come to a sudden halt in the middle of the aisle. he pointedly ignores the well aimed glare that is shot toward him, which only intensifies when she appears to recognise just who he is. only, that pretty little glare of hers morphs into an expression of unabashed horror when he sneers down at her with a wicked flash of his teeth, and there’s a pang of triumph that gnaws at his chest when she scurries away as fast as her ridiculously thin heels will allow her. eventually, he makes the mistake of asking toga, and she’s just as useless as he is—some frills or lace should do, no? she’d cackled down the phone, and he’d promptly terminated the call—and all too soon, he’s reached the point of which he’s ready to give up.

only, as he’s making his way home—and most definitely not sulking—from his peripheral vision, he spots just the very place that should’ve been an obvious first choice from the beginning of this disaster of a trip.

a jewellers.

at the time of your marriage, his finances hadn’t exactly been anything to brag about, so the idea of wedding rings had been forfeited in favour of paying for a decent service instead. he may not have been able to afford to put a ring on your finger, but he made damn well sure that you got the wedding of your dreams.

and now, as he ducks into the entranceway, listening to the tittering tinkle of the bell that sings the announcement of his arrival, he decides that he’s going to give you the christmas of your dreams, too.

and, despite the fact that, initially, he didn’t understand the appeal of the joyous holiday, less that twelve hours have passed and he’s smothering the urge to grimace upon the recognisable sensation of his stomach twisting with nerves. you’re already grinning so wide that the apples of your cheeks are rounded with the efforts of your giddiness, and you trace your fingertips over the shoddily wrapped box that he’d almost thrown across the room when he just couldn’t make his gift-wrapping look as pretty as yours. it looks a mess—there’s far too much cello-tape, and the paper has crinkled and faded after being folded and unfolded several times during the ordeal.

still, you’re happy, and dabi is awed, once again, at the sheer loveliness of your smile.

with your bottom lip pinched between your teeth, you tug your way through the unforgiving amount of paper that definitely wasn’t needed, and from where he lazes against his favourite cushion, long legs splayed across the length of the settee, dabi watches, keenly, as you reveal the very gift that he’d chosen all by himself.

there are already tears pooling into the corners of your eyes as you pop open the lid, and he hears the hitch of your breath. ‘y-you—’ you’re swallowing, thickly, unshed tears teetering upon the tips of your lashes, but when you manage to tear your gaze toward him, it is dabi who has to pretend that he doesn’t feel a tad nauseous because of the nerves that are chewing at his insides. ‘dabi,’ you breathe, ‘touya—i—’

‘couldn’t get you one ‘fore,’ he mumbles, the tips of his ears hot. ‘wanted to put a ring on you, make your finger look real pretty.’

and then, whatever he thought he may have said next is punched from straight out of his lungs when you literally launch yourself into his lap, arms curling tight around his waist. it’s instinct; easy now, the way that he returns your embrace, when once, there was a time when the mere thought of touching another would’ve repulsed him. he’s come a long way, he knows this, and in you, he’s found a home of which he belongs. welcoming the scent of you into the expanse of his lungs, he inhales, deeply, nuzzling the tip of his nose into the warmth of the pulse at your throat.

after, with another coy tug of the corner of your mouth, your voice is as sweet as honey when you ask him to place it on you.

your mouth moulds to the shape of his, all sweet tongues and the occasional bump of teeth, and the taste of salt sits on the flat of his tongue as it swipes over your bottom lip, again and again, and again. there’s a coil in his gut that’s building with each press of your lips, and after, with another coy tug of the corner of your mouth, your voice is honeyed when you ask him to place the ring upon your finger.

there’s a pause, a quiet one as the band is gently smoothed over the bump of your left knuckle.

and there, sits the very embodiment of dabi’s adoration for you.

his thumb strokes over the polished stone that aligns with the month of your birth, and though he’s not very good with his words, for what it’s worth, dabi silently sends thanks to whichever entity is responsible for your existence. your smile is large enough to match the glimmer of warmth that softens the corners of his own lips, and the sight of your unabashed joy is well worth every effort it took to buy it in the first place.

he’d once promised you the wedding of your dreams, and he’d also promised to gift you the christmas of your dreams, too.

and though the extent of his past sins may mean that he’s not naive enough to believe that he deserves this, this life, this marriage—because, truly, he knows that he doesn’t deserve you—in each lifetime, he’d do it all over again.

for you.

© obitohno. all rights reserved. do not repost my works.

catching his crush staring at him

type: preference

pronouns: you/your/yourself

characters: midoriya, kaminari, shinsou

a/n: hello! once again you may remember this post because i have already posted it in the past before my account got deleted! but i am back and i am reposting a bunch of old posts. please enjoy and an interaction with this post would be greatly appreciated.

reminder that requests are open on this blog because i have an empty inbox. and if you like demon slayer, check out my side-blog @katwatcheskny where requests are also open.

IZUKU MIDORIYA

Izuku is studying away, focused on what Aizawa is talking about during the lesson when he can suddenly feel someone’s eyes on him.

Instantly scared as he turns to see who it is when he notices you.

You’re looking at him sheepishly while holding your textbook close to your face with a cute little smile on your face and now he doesn’t remember how to breathe as his face lights up like a Christmas tree. 

He tries to look away abashed, while Izuku starts mumbling to himself about how his crush actually looked at him. Maybe, you did know about his existence. Or was there something wrong with his hair?

“Midoriya-” Aizawa calls with his stern voice.

“UGH! 1847!” He yells out, his face is still a visible shade of red and he’s sweating as turning to face the board and holds up his book.

“That’s… correct, but why are you holding your textbook upside down?”

DENKI KAMINARI

Denki is almost always spacing out during class, playing around with his pencil in his hand and trying to entertain himself while someone talks about math, or history, or-

That’s when he notices someone’s looking at him. Turns around, he sees you’re looking over at him with a tiny grin in the corner of your mouth.

His whole body goes stiff and he’s got the goofiest grin on his face.

He wants to seem cool but he cannot believe you’re staring at him. Maybe it’s because you like him too? So he’s gotta act cool about it even though he’s shaking with pure excitement from the attention.

Denki will try to wink at you, be a little flirty, but will probably just end up looking like a fly flew into his eyes and it hurts.

You laugh at his attempts at flirting.

Watching you laugh adorably like that actually fries his brain.

HITOSHI SHINSOU

He’s very perceptive, so he quickly notices someone is looking at him.

Hitoshi is relieved that you’re the one staring at him, trying to be sneaky as you keep gazing at him from across the classroom.

Be prepared for a staring match.

He hasn’t blinked in a week and now he has his eyes on the prize. This bitch is HOT-APEing you, so he’s making an almost intense amount of eye contact, maybe that will make you fall in love with him too.

Now you’re blushing because you thought you could be slick by staring at him with those dreamy eyes, but now you’ve got those purple eyes staring into your very soul with an indiscernible expression. 

He smiles at your blushing face before turning away and resting his head on his hand. On the inside his mind is racing about how you noticed him.