fanfictionstuff

[fanfictionstuff]

Personally, I wouldn't say POS.

I hadn't really thought about it before, but it is rude, especially on requests that take a while to write and have a bit more details.

Unless it's a situation like the person who clearly likes Mephisto and his Sakura-chan. It was clear you enjoyed it because of the multiple scenarios that matched up.

Eh, whatever. I'm way behind on requests right now anyway. The Lucifer one is currently the main thing I'm working on. I've got it mostly written; I just need to tie up a few loose ends and double-check the flow since I often write in random pieces, and have to fill in the gaps.

I've had a lot of stress at work recently, so it's been affecting my updates.

also the craziest part about when writers take requests from people off/on anon there is a 90% chance they never come back and reblog and thank you for what you wrote for them. sometimes they'll just like the post and that's it. sometimes they never interact with it at all and go request something again. like you are a piece of shit if you request and never pay the writer back in basic gratitude and appreciation btw

[fanfictionstuff]

Amaimon x Reader Father's Day

Amaimon with boy/girl twins. It was actually kind of hard at one point because I don't give them names, so I felt like the wording might be repetitive. I was planning to do one with Mephisto and Lucifer too, but I've been so stressed recently with my job.

"Daddy!"

“Wake up!”

Both twins jump on the bed, or rather, just on Amaimon while shaking him and calling for him to wake up over and over. The bed shakes uncomfortably, with one twin even stepping painfully on your side as they shake him awake. Amaimon sits up in bed, unintentionally knocking both off, but that doesn’t deter them; the moment he’s sitting up, they attack him again. 

You reach over, carefully holding the blanket down at his waist. The twins never come in and randomly jump on the bed, you sit up to, and you hold the blanket to your chest. “Daddy is awake. Why don’t you let him get dressed?” You pull your daughter away from him, though your son remains attached.

“Get dressed.” Your son bluntly orders.

Amaimon nods. “Fine, get out. I’m naked.” He orders, and the twins follow his orders without argument.

“Why are they bothering us so early?” Amaimon glances at the clock on the nightstand. It’s just past six in the morning. “They normally sleep late on weekends.”

You can’t help but laugh as a slight pout crosses his face. “They’re excited because it’s Father’s Day. They made a gift for you at school, and they really want to give it to you.” You sit up as well, wrapping your arms around the king and pulling him closer. “They didn’t understand how important this day was until now since it’s their first time in school,” you explain, kissing his warm cheek. 

“It’s not important.”

You pinch the tip of his ear. “It’s important for two six-year-olds who love their father and want to celebrate the special day with him.”

You always did something special for Father's Day and Mother's Day. However, it seems the school has made the twins feel that these two days are more important than how you and Amaimon treated them in the past. 

"They made you something at school. You have to act surprised," you say, which is a request you’ve said for every birthday and holiday since the twins were first able to use construction paper and glue. It’s never gotten easier for him.

Amaimon rises and begins to pick out clothes for the day. He appears to be genuinely tired. "Amaimon, did you sleep?” 

“I was asleep for about twenty minutes. I didn’t realize they would come in at six. They never wake up this early," he admits. 

“Idiot, you should go to sleep when I do.” 

“I like watching you sleep.” 

You roll your eyes and get off the bed, taking the underwear he offers. "I sleep for more than just two hours. You can sleep for two hours, then spend the rest of the time watching like a weirdo."

“It’s not weird to watch my mate sleep," he replies flatly. “I watch the twins while they sleep too. Why is it weird I like to watch my family?" 

He sounds genuinely confused, and while it’s strange to say aloud, the fact that Amaimon just likes to stare at you and the twins is really sweet. He also randomly stares at you throughout the day, too, as if he can’t believe this is his life. You know he never imagined he’d fall in love and have a family.  

“God, I love you.” You laugh. “Come on, get dressed.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” 

“Okay, it’s not weird. I’m glad you’re happy with your family and like to stare at us sometimes. Now, get dressed.” 

Amaimon quickly slips into a dark red T-shirt and pinstriped pants. He intertwines his fingers and stretches, cracking his knuckles as he does. "I’m ready for Father’s Day.” 

You find the twins in the kitchen, sitting at the table with bright golden eyes fixed on their father. “We made breakfast!” your daughter exclaims, proudly pointing at the cereal she prepared for Amaimon. “Big Brother had to climb the cabinets to get the cereal, but I got the milk.” She beams with pride while her older brother frowns at her and then gives her a gentle shove—not to hurt her, but as a warning. He doesn’t want to get in trouble for climbing the cabinets. 

“Sit!” the twins say together, patting the table. Amaimon walks over and thanks them with his familiar tone.

The twins watch Amaimon closely, eager to see his reaction to the ‘breakfast’ in front of him: two mismatched bowls, one filled with the twins’ favorite cereal, brightly colored with marshmallows, and the other containing two half-peeled tangerines and rainbow gummy worms.

He sits, blank-faced, while the twins lean in. Your daughter is excited, and your son mirrors his father’s expression almost perfectly. “I made the bowl pretty,” she says, clearly proud of her masterpiece.

Amaimon snaps a photo of the bowl with his phone, a task you've reminded him about at least twelve times since preschool art projects began. “Very pretty,” he comments while texting the photo to Mephisto, who sometimes struggles to believe that Amaimon has truly fallen in love and loves his twins. 

The twins watch him lift a spoon, heavy with marshmallows, and slowly bring it to his mouth. He eats it without ceremony, but they scuttle forward in delight, finding their reward not in his taste buds but in the act of eating itself. Your daughter giddily details the process of how they made his breakfast. 

“First, I wanted to pick out all the blue ones because those are the best, but I left some for you because I know you like them too.” Amaimon looks at his daughter and then at his son, who nods in agreement with his sister. “She tried to take all the marshmallows too, but I told her she can’t.” 

“It’s good.” He answers honestly, however, it’s not that surprising. It’d be hard to mess up cereal. “What happened to the tangerines?” He questions bluntly. 

Both suddenly turn away, looking slightly embarrassed. “They wouldn’t peel right," your son admits. “We both tried and couldn’t do it.” 

Amaimon picks one up and stares at it. It’s clear the twins struggled to do it because of their claws, given how the fruit is punctured. 

He peels a fruit for the twins and splits it in half. Then, he peels a second fruit and gives half to you, which prompts cheers from the twins. “Daddy’s strong,” his daughter exclaims, poking at the neatly peeled fruit. “and he takes care of Mama!”

You eat the segments as you carefully watch the twins who are watching their father. Amaimon quickly finishes the bowl of cereal, even drinking the milk before placing the bowl back on the table. “I’m finished,” he states.

“You didn’t eat the gummy words.” They argue back. 

Amaimon picks one up and bites it in segments, chewing only one color at a time. The twins mimic his actions, adopting another unusual trait from their father. 

“So, what are we doing today?” you ask, scanning their eager faces. Their school had sent a list of Father’s Day activities, most requiring “parental guidance,” which, in your case, means “supervision so nobody gets hurt or brings home a new demon.” 

“Wait! We have to give you a gift. Close your eyes!” your daughter insists as her brother sits across from Amaimon, ensuring he listens and keeps his eyes shut. Amaimon complies easily, keeping his eyes closed until she places a gift bag in front of him. The bag is medium-sized and has "Happy Father’s Day" printed on both sides. 

“Open it!” They both demand.

He pulls out the tissue paper before reaching the gift. “A shirt?” He questions as he pulls out an interesting white button-up that has been decorated.

Your son nods. “They said we could each do our own, but I wanted you to wear my shirt today, and she said you should wear hers.” He points out the fact that the shirt has two distinct sides. “We agreed this would be better. I colored this side.” 

The left side looks more like their father’s style, color-wise. There are different shapes all over it, some of them the swirling symbols on Amaimon’s demonic arms and horns, with a few random drawings of the family together. It’s clearly the side your son did. 

The right side is chaotic; she clearly didn’t select a specific color scheme. There is a large pink and blue drawing of Behemoth at the bottom front and a cute red heart on the left pocket of the shirt's chest. A larger drawing of your family between the heart and Behemoth drawing, it takes up almost the whole left side, and the spike on Amaimon’s head is hilariously exaggerated.

The collar of the shirt is yellow on the left side and black on the right. Flipping the shirt over reveals even more drawings: a nature scene on the left side and a fighting scene on the right. You’re fairly certain that’s a drawing of Amaimon killing Rin Okumura, but you refuse to comment on it. The twins despise Rin, all because their father does, never mind the fact that Rin is a friend of yours. 

He holds it up with a measuring air. "You want me to wear it today," he says. It is not a question. The twins nod furiously, bouncing on their chairs.

“We worked hard on it,” says your son, and your daughter nods in agreement. 

“This is my favorite shirt now,” Amaimon declares. You cannot tell if he means it, but the twins howl and leap at him, nearly knocking his cereal bowl over. He manages to catch both children, and in this moment—shirt and all—you love him more than you possibly did before.

“Let me try it on.” He sets the twins down before tugging the t-shirt over his head. He smirks slightly when he catches your eye, and you roll your eyes. “Put on your shirt, Daddy.” He follows your instructions, quickly putting on the shirt and buttoning it.

"You look silly," your son laughs.

He tugs at the hem. The fit is perfect and awful. The heart sits directly above Amaimon's own, the family portrait on the left side looming like a joyful crest.

“It’s perfect,” you say, and he gives you one of his small, sideways smiles.

“Yes, I like it.”

Your daughter wraps his arms around his waist. “Will you wear it outside? We need to go somewhere special.” 

Amaimon just awkwardly pats her head, “Where do you want to go?” 

“It’s Father’s Day! So, you have to choose.” Her eyes flicker toward the bar, subtly drawn to something. Amaimon follows her gaze and spots a vibrant flyer for a new trampoline park, bright colors covering it with tacky fonts. 

“A trampoline park?” he mumbles to himself, glancing at the flyer. Her eyes brighten with excitement. “Daddy! Do you want to go to a trampoline park?” 

Her older brother scoffs. “You want to go, stop trying to take over Father’s Day. It’s his day to decide, not yours.” 

“I didn’t say he had to go! You want to go too!” She argues. 

“Father’s Day.” 

Amaimon gazes at the flyer before stepping forward and taking one of the twins' hands in each of his. He runs his thumb over their claws. Although theirs aren't as long or sharp as his, they are still dangerous, especially in a trampoline park. He releases their hands, and with a puff of smoke, two pairs of gloves materialize in his palms. “You need to wear these when we go.” They’re the type of gloves Mephisto uses; they can help hide the claws and prevent anyone from getting hurt. 

“Will you wear gloves?” Both ask at the same time. 

“No.” 

“If you don’t need them, neither do I.” Your son argues, and his sister nods in agreement. 

“If you don’t wear them, I’m taking your mother to the trampoline park and leaving you here.” 

Amaimon’s statement is rewarded with a united gasp, betrayal etched on two small faces. Your son grimaces, knowing he’s been outplayed, then slowly slides his hands into the gloves. His sister follows suit, putting on a dramatic display by wiggling her fingers through each hole as if she were donning battle gear.

You laugh slightly. “You both need to get dressed before we head out; you’re still in your pajamas.”

It only takes a few minutes before the twins have already dressed themselves. Amaimon looks at the ensemble and simply nods in approval before pulling out a magic key. “Let’s go.” The door of your house opens into the trampoline park. 

The trampoline park is a vibrant jungle of nets and neon platforms, piles of soft cubes, and the frantic shrieks of children and teens tumbling above blue mats. Parents appear bleary-eyed from caffeine, herding their sugar-high kids.

Amaimon surveys the chaos around him with an expression of indifference. Nothing seems to disturb him as he firmly holds onto each twin’s hand, keeping them close in his mismatched shirt. This outfit draws curious glances from several nearby children and parents, some looking impressed. You recognize one mother with a child in grade one who turns and gives her husband a nasty look. Amaimon remains oblivious, fully focused on the twins and you.

A teenage employee approaches you with a friendly smile, holding out a release form and the fuzzy socks everyone is required to wear. You grab Amaimon by the back of his shirt and tug him down to sit on a bench. The twins quickly drop onto the bench across from you, kicking off their shoes and putting on the socks while Amaimon scans the waiver and signs it. 

As the employee takes the clipboard back with the forms, the twins dart off to play. You barely get your own shoes off before they’ve disappeared, only to spot them moments later, climbing up a rock tower that leads to an inflatable slide. 

Amaimon wraps his arms around you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder. 

“It’s Father’s Day, and they’ve already forgotten they’re meant to be here to celebrate with you.” You laugh. “I wonder which one will notice first.”  

“It could go either way for different reasons.” 

You nod in agreement; your son is the more logical one and would typically notice something like this before his sister. However, since it involves Amaimon, there’s no telling who will notice first because your daughter is a daddy’s girl. "Want to make a bet on who notices first?” you tease. 

“What do I get if I win?” 

“Whatever you want.” 

He lets his hands drop to your hips. “Now? We could leave-” 

“Pervert.” You elbow him, and he bends, teeth grazing the round of your shoulder in retaliation. You squirm free, catching the glint in his gold eyes.

You scan the UV-lit maze. They’re having some sort of race and not playing fair; occasionally, one catches up and knocks the other down. Although they aren’t fighting over it, they just pick themselves back up to continue the race. 

Amaimon steps away to buy some junk food at the bar. He returns with a plate of takoyaki and two fruity drinks that you can already tell are overloaded with sugar. “Sit down, there is a table.” He gestures toward a free table in an area where a few parents are seated. 

You turn your attention back to the twins once you both settle. “They’re perfect,” you murmur.

“Yes. Our children will always be above others,” Amaimon states. 

You laugh and take a sip of the overly sweet fruit slush, watching your daughter pummel through a sea of foam blocks. She yells something at her brother before pausing, a look of realization crossing her face. “Daddy!!!” 

“I won.” Amaimon stares blankly at you. 

“We never said which kid we were betting on!” you argue, but Amaimon shoves a takoyaki ball into your mouth. “I will collect my prize anyway.” He wipes a streak of sauce from your mouth with his thumb, unhurriedly licking it clean afterward. “Though, I would’ve already been getting it tonight.” He seems thoughtful. “Maybe I should ask for a different prize.” 

“Shut up and go to your children, they’re calling you.”

He tilts his head, bemused, then stands up and navigates through the towering obstacle course of primary colors and echoing shrieks. Your daughter dashes toward him, launches herself, and grabs his arm. She’s panting, her eyes wide and excited. “Daddy, come on!” her voice rings out, clear even above the riot of other families.

He allows her to lead him, and the two vanish into a winding stretch of trampoline, where she insists they jump together.

You watch in amusement as your son suddenly appears and jumps onto Amaimon’s back, toppling the demon king. 

As he falls forward, Amaimon rolls onto his back—his expression completely blank, yet his arms quickly wrap around your son, who shrieks with delight while caught in a rib-crushing embrace. 

Over the next hour, you watch the ritual of children’s games. During each game, the twins look to their father, always seeking Amaimon’s silent nod of encouragement. 

Somehow, Amaimon manages to convince the twins to let him go back and rest with you. “It’s going to be lunch time soon, what do you want?” he questions you. 

“It’s Father’s Day, you choose.” 

-------------------------------

“They're fragile,” Amaimon remarks casually, cradling each twin on his hips as they sleep. “They tire out too quickly.”  

You roll your eyes at his observation while using the key to unlock the door to your apartment. “That’s how they are, Amaimon. They’re only six.” 

He makes a vague noise and enters, pausing just long enough to take off his shoes before carrying the twins to their bedroom. You follow behind, watching as he places each of them on their bed, removes their shoes, and carefully tucks them in. 

“You’re such a good father and husband.” You praise him, wrapping your arms around him as he closes the twins’ door behind him. 

“I know.” 

“I didn’t get you a gift because I knew that if I asked what you wanted, you’d realize it was Father’s Day. The twins wanted to surprise you, and I didn’t want to spoil that.” You poke at the heart on the pocket of his shirt. “What do you want?” 

“Anything?” 

“Within reason.” 

“I want another.” 

“Another what?”

“Baby. Child. Offspring.” 

You stare at him, searching for the hint of a joke. Amaimon doesn’t blink. He’s just studying your expression the same way you’re studying his. Except, he’s better at hiding his. 

Amaimon studies your face for a moment, his gaze neither menacing nor pleading, just completely unreadable. You feel the urge to say something sarcastic, something that might sting just a little to see how serious he really is, but the words stick in your throat.

He waits.

The silence thickens, but you don’t break it. Instead, Amaimon leans in, his nose almost brushing against yours, and whispers, “You said anything.” He smells like sugar and citrus."Also, I won the bet," he reminds you.

You let the quiet spool between your lips and his. “You want another one?” you manage, but it catches on a laugh. The laugh is brittle, barely there. “You want… three?”

He shrugs. “I want more than three.”

“How many were you thinking?” You question. 

He surveys your three-bedroom apartment. “We should buy a bigger house," he says casually, but there's a fire in his gold eyes that suggests he’s put a lot of thought into it. Ultimately, it all depends on you, no matter what.

“How long have you been thinking about this?” you ask.

Amaimon’s mouth quirks. “Since you snapped at Rin Okumura on my first day of school. He was your friend, yet you chose me over him. I wanted it all then. Mate, house, children, a lot of children.” 

You laugh, "I was worried about whether you even liked me as a friend, while you were already planning our future together." You take a step back, tugging him along by a handful of his shirt, which feels warm in your grip. “We can discuss the details later. I think you deserve a nap, my king.”

He doesn’t resist your pull and even allows you to lead him to your bedroom. But then, he takes charge, pulling you onto the bed and resting his head against your chest. “Is one of the details you agreeing?” 

He questions calmly.  “Yes. Now go to sleep, you’re clearly exhausted.” 

“Okay.”

He’s out in ten seconds, just like you knew he’d be—hand still curled around your wrist, as if anchoring you to this exact spot.

[fanfictionstuff]

Amaimon x Reader with twins (boy and girl)

I swear I am still working on the Lucifer fic, but this popped into my head.

I love father Amaimon 😩

Amaimon quietly steps into the room, closing the door behind him. He doesn’t bother turning on the light as he walks across the room. It’s two in the morning, and you’ve just fallen asleep. Sure, technically it was his fault that you stayed up this late, but that doesn’t matter. It’s no excuse for this. “Why are you awake?” Amaimon questions, staring down at the two cribs side by side. Golden eyes look back at him, one pair is filled with tears, while the other gazes back with an eerily vacant stare that matches his father perfectly.  

He reaches for the crying child, carefully cradling her in his arms. “You’re going to wake up your mother.” He lightly scolds the child as he checks her diaper. Still dry. “Are you hungry? Or just demanding attention like your mother?” he questions her. When she doesn’t stop crying as he cradles her, he figures it must be the former. Amaimon’s eyes turn back to his son, who is still staring indifferently. The temptation to poke him to see a change in expression crosses Amaimon’s mind, but two crying babies will wake you up. “Go back to sleep,” he tells his son as he leaves the bedroom, carrying his daughter with him. "And you, stop crying.” She doesn’t listen. 

“No?” Amaimon questions her as she refuses to take the bottle. “Stop being stubborn and take the bottle.” 

"You're being unreasonable," he states, as if speaking to an adult rather than an infant.

From upstairs comes the sound of stirring—you're starting to wake up. Amaimon's golden eyes narrow. It’s what he was trying to avoid. He glances up the staircase and then back at the flushed infant in his arms. With a gentle sigh, he begins to pace the small kitchen, softly bouncing her as he walks.

The crying subsides into occasional hiccupping sobs before fading into silence. Amaimon pauses and looks down at the now calm baby in his arms. Her golden eyes, still wet with tears, blink up at him. A tiny hand reaches up, grasping at nothing in particular.

"So it was attention," Amaimon murmurs, tilting his head slightly. "Just like your mother.”

He continues pacing. The gentle motion seems to soothe her, and Amaimon finds himself studying her features in the dim kitchen light. Both twins look almost like a carbon copy of him; he can’t help but wonder if the next child will resemble you more. His eyes widen slightly in surprise that having another child is already crossing his mind. 

"You're going to be trouble," he informs her. 

The baby gurgles, a sound that he decides to interpret as agreement.

Footsteps pad softly down the hall, and he turns to see you standing in the doorway, hair mussed from sleep, eyes half-lidded.

"She woke you up.” 

You shake your head, yawning. "I heard you get up. Figured I should check." Your voice is thick with sleep as you lean against the doorframe for support. "Is she okay?"

"She doesn’t listen. Demanding." Amaimon shifts the baby slightly, her tiny fingers now wrapped around one of his burgundy claws. "She refused the bottle, but she’s fine now.

"Sometimes she just wants to be held." You step closer, reaching out to smooth down her wispy green hair, and smile despite your exhaustion. "How's our little stoic doing?"

"He was staring. I told him to sleep." Amaimon unwraps a piece of candy with one hand, the crinkling sound catching the baby's attention and drawing her gaze to Amaimon's mouth. "He doesn't listen either."

"They’re three months old, Amaimon. They don’t understand commands yet."

"They understand. They choose not to comply." There's no hint of jest in Amaimon's voice. He genuinely believes the twins are deliberately defying him.

You laugh softly, resting your head against his shoulder as you both look down at your daughter. They are half demon; maybe they do understand more than a three-month-old human. 

The baby has calmed completely now, her eyelids growing heavy as she nestles against his chest. Her tiny fingers still cling to his claw.

"You should go back to bed," he tells you, not looking away from the infant's face.

"So should she," you murmur, but make no move to take the baby from him.

"I want to hold her,” he says after a moment. "A little longer," he adds, his voice remaining flat yet somehow softer.

You smile and reach out, tracing a gentle finger along your daughter's cheek. "She's got you wrapped around her finger already."

"No one controls me," he states, but his eyes remain fixed on the sleeping infant's face. The contradiction between his words and actions is not lost on you.

You wrap your arms around his waist. “I’d argue all three of us have some type of control over you.” 

Amaimon's golden eyes flick to you briefly before returning to the baby. “No.”

“You’re up at two in the morning to care for her.” You point out. “And pretty sure if I asked you to go to the store right now, you would.”

His now free hand finds its way to the small of your back, fingers splaying possessively across the fabric of your sleep shirt. "Fine, I choose to let you control me sometimes."

"And her?"

Amaimon remains quiet for a long moment, observing the sleeping infant. Her breathing is steady now, with her tiny chest rising and falling against his. "She doesn't give me a choice," he admits finally, his voice carrying an edge of confusion, as if he's still trying to understand this new feeling himself.

A sudden cry echoes from upstairs, and Amaimon's eyes dart toward the ceiling. “…neither does he.”

[fanfictionstuff]

Currently closed to requests

I have over 80 requests in my inbox 😅 I wasn't expecting anyone to be interested enough in my writing that I'd end up backed up like this. But my inbox is staying open in case anyone has any opinions or questions about anything.

I am working on them, currently my focus is on the Lucifer x doctor part 2 request I've been working on since the beginning of March 💀

I've begun it and rewritten it so many times now lol.

[fanfictionstuff]

Okay this is wild but....

What if Seti and reader are in a long term relationship but never tell her parents because at what point do you say 'btw i'm in love with my familiar.' I feel like it would be awkward/difficult to bring up to her parents.

Imagine reader gets pregnant, still doesn't tell the parents. Seti doesn't tell them, he doesn't even like speaking to people outside of reader and when he does it's usually rude/snarky right?

So parents have no idea who the father is because reader is all 🤐

Then a baby is born with sandy colored hair and fox ears. 😍

I really want reader to have a baby with Seti. Imagine the cute little fox ears. 🥺

Okay. Stop. Now I'm imagining the cute little twitching ears and tail. So cute.

Reader would likely inform her parents before the baby arrives, although she might keep the fact that she's in a relationship with Seti to herself until she is actually pregnant. You're right about Seti not liking to talk to people, and there wouldn't be any dramatic reveal like an ‘I'm in love with your daughter’ moment with him. Nevertheless, Seti is sensible and would encourage Reader to tell her parents as soon as she finds out about the pregnancy. Basically, "We'll have enough to deal with when the baby arrives; we don't need their dramatic reactions on top of everything else." 

Seti doesn't like drama. He especially wouldn't want to deal with it when a newborn is involved.

[fanfictionstuff]

About the extremely late Lucifer x Doctor reader fic

I've been struggling with it for months. But I think maybe I've finally got it.

The second part is meant to be smut. I've also got a Lucifer in heat request sitting in my inbox.

So, maybe Lucifer in heat x doctor reader? After an established relationship.

Please give me your input 🙏🏻

@appreciatingfanfics @frootloopscos (you two asked for a part 2 if you wanna toss in your input)

[fanfictionstuff]

Are you doing the Seti, Amaimon, and reader fic?

I was trying to write it, and I spoke to my friend about it. Honestly, Seti is way too overprotective and in love to ever allow someone like Amaimon to touch her in that AU. I started it a few different times and each time I couldn't find an opening to toss Amaimon in without Seti being extremely hurt or angry about it.

Also I can't really see Amaimon willing to share with Seti. He already doesn't like him.

They'd try to kill each other.

I'll still write something separately with Seti if anyone wants it. But Amaimon x Reader x Seti just doesn't work. I don't think Amaimon would be willing to share with anyone weaker than him. Amaimon x reader x Mephisto can work in my opinion (obviously considering I've written it), and possibly Lucifer tossed in. But I can't imagine Amaimon willing to share with weaker demons.

[fanfictionstuff]

Amaimon helping you wash after an Exorcist mission. Your legs are wobbly, so he’s helping you stand, or maybe you’re sitting on his lap (can be either shower or tub)?

Sorry it took so long! I'm trying to catch up lol

He’s on you the second you open the door, observing you for any wounds, even as you drop into his arms. “Amaimon, please.” You wince as he lifts your leg to examine a bruise. “That hurts.” He ignores your complaints, just barely holding you up as he continues to examine your body. Finally he accepts that you’re all intact, just extremely sore and exhausted. 

“Where are you going?” Amaimon asks as you try to pull away from him. His grip only tightens, making it more difficult to escape. 

“I want to sit in the bath; I smell bad—"

“No you don’t.” 

“-feel gross, and it’ll help my muscles.” 

He seems to think about this for a moment before nodding in agreement. He loosens his hold on you, turning you around so you can use the sofa for support. 

There must be some kind of wound on your back, you bite your lip to hold back a gasp when you’re pressed against the sofa. Not wanting Amaimon to hear and decide to start examining you again. Though when his fingers pause, undoing the buttons on your jacket, you realize he heard. “I’m fine.” 

Amaimon ignores your comment, carelessly tugging at your clothing with his claws. You try to block out the sound of ripping fabric, and Amaimon removes your clothes, tugging your shirt over your head and removes your pants. He takes a step back, his eyes scan your body. 

I guess I have more bruising than I thought. “Amaimon, help me get to the bathroom.” 

He nods, hooking his left arm under your legs as he picks you up bridal style. “Who let you get hurt? I will kill them.” Amaimon casually comments as he walks down the hall. 

“I was alone.”

“Oh.” 

He sits you down on the toilet as soon as you enter the bathroom, but you quickly get back up. Amaimon doesn’t have a sense of temperature like you do; if you let him control the water, he could either scald or freeze you. “Amaimon, I’m not helpless. It’s just a few bruises and sore muscles," you swat his hands away while you sit on the edge of the tub to adjust the water yourself. 

Amaimon shifts his focus to the rest of your clothing, swiftly unhooking your bra and adjusting your legs slightly more toward him so he can remove your underwear. 

His jacket drops to the floor beside your discarded underwear, followed by the rest of his clothes, piece by piece. He climbs into the tub first, settling comfortably across from the faucet. “Come here,” he commands, opening his arms for you. 

You reach for something on the counter to keep your hair up. Carefully, you slip from the edge of the tub into his embrace and sigh in contentment. His hands immediately find your shoulders, gently massaging the sore muscles. He has improved at this since meeting you. “Amaimon, I’m tired.” You stifle a yawn as you lean back more against his firm chest. 

His fingers slip from your sore shoulders and teasingly brush lightly against your arm as he reaches for the sponge. “You’re such a good boyfriend.” You praise him as he begins to run the soapy sponge along your body. “I’m your mate ______.” He bluntly responds, washing your back. 

“Okay, you’re such a good mate Amaimon,” you chuckle, leaning back against him again as he begins to wash your legs. 

“I know.” 

[fanfictionstuff]

Reader sleeping topless with just panties on, and Amaimon just napping against your chest.

It’s two in the morning when he finally returns home, occupied with the simple tasks Mephisto had requested. Amaimon gazes at your sleeping figure, feeling a hint of annoyance that you didn’t wait up for him. You knew he was coming home, and you don’t have work tomorrow. He’s tempted to shake you awake but then notices your state—you’re only in your underwear, and the blanket has slipped down to your waist at some point. His gaze fixates on your chest. The perfect place to sleep. He kicks off his shoes, which you will be unhappy to learn he wore in the house, and quickly removes the rest of his clothes until he’s bare. Then, he climbs into bed and lets out a contented sigh as he lays his head on your warm chest. Unconsciously, you wrap your arms around him as his eyelids close. He’ll deal with you not waiting for him to come home before you sleep in a few hours. 

[fanfictionstuff]

Shima x Reader

Reader also has a fear of bugs in this fic

“Are you okay?” you whisper to Shima, who stands tense in front of you. "Yes, I’ll help get rid of it," he replies, though his uncertainty is evident. Gripping a broom, he takes a step closer. “It’s not poisonous, right?” he asks you, glancing over his shoulder.

You nod, your eyes on the spider. “Right.” Shima squares his shoulders and takes another step forward. After a pause, you add, “Because spiders are venomous, not poisonous.”

The tiny bit of confidence he has falls quickly. “Wait, is this one venomous?”

You take a quiet step to your left, moving toward the hallway leading to your bedroom and safety. Are you willing to run and let Shima sacrifice himself? Yes, without a doubt. You’ll feel guilt for the rest of your life, but that’s just how life is. “Renzo, I don’t even know what kind of spider it is.” You refuse to get any closer to identify it. “But I think almost all spiders are venomous, so there’s that."

“Babe, that doesn’t help.” Shima’s faux bravely washes away completely. “What do we do?”

“Kill it.”

“What if it bites me?”

“Better you than me.”

Shima lowers his head. “I love you, so I will do this. Pray for me.” He sounds as if he’s going off to war. Taking a brave step forward, he swings the broom at the spider. You both watch in horror as it merely knocks the spider down.” You’re fairly certain that didn’t kill it.

Your eyes quickly scan the area. “Where did it go!?”

“I don’t know!”

-----------------

“Renzo, you failed at one of the top ten boyfriend duties.” You huff as you open your laptop, and Shima climbs onto the bed beside you, a look of confusion on his face. “Wait, what?” 

“You can’t even kill a bug for your girlfriend?”

Shima wraps his arms around you, “What about you? You can’t kill a bug for your boyfriend? I’ve exorcised demons for you!" He leans in closer, putting all his weight on you and causing you to fall back against the bed. "After everything I’ve done for you, you can’t even handle a bug?" he jokes, pressing his lips against your cheek. 

"You exorcise demons for a living," you retort, trying to push his weight off you but failing miserably. "That's literally your job description."

"Yeah, but I do it with extra flair when you're watching," he grins, his pink hair falling across his forehead as he hovers over you. "Besides, bugs and demons are in completely different categories."

You raise an eyebrow. "So you'd rather face a demon than a tiny spider?” 

“Is neither an option?” 

You start to respond, but the vibrating phone diverts your attention. Pushing him away, you stand up and grab the phone. “Hello?” 

“______, we will be late getting home tonight.” Your mother’s voice comes through the speaker. “My extra debit card is in the drawer by the stove. You can order dinner, and no boys over when we aren’t home.” 

"Of course, Mom," you say, rolling your eyes at Shima, who is lounging on your bed with a mischievous grin. "No boys at all. I’m not even that close to any boys.” You scoff. Despite dating Shima for the last three months, you’ve kept it hidden from your parents. 

"Hmm, that's a shame," Shima whispers after you hang up, stretching lazily across your bed. "Guess I should leave then, since there are 'no boys allowed.'"

You toss your phone aside and crawl back onto the bed. "Shut up. You're not going anywhere."

"So rebellious," he teases, pulling you down beside him. "I like it."

You lean against him, enjoying the warmth of his body beside yours. "My parents would freak if they knew about us."

“Why?” 

“You have pink hair. That right there is more than enough reason for them.” You roll your eyes. 

Shima playfully twirls a strand of your hair between his fingers. "My hair is just one of my many charms," he says with a wink. "I’m sure your parents will come to like me eventually. I'm very likable."

"Oh really?" You prop yourself up on your elbow, looking down at him with a playful smirk. "And what unique 'charms' do you think you possess, Renzo Shima?"

His eyes darken slightly as he slides his hand to the small of your back, pulling you closer. "Want me to show you instead?" His voice drops to a whisper that sends a shiver down your spine.

"It depends," you reply softly, your heartbeat quickening as his fingers lazily trace patterns against your shirt. "Are you run away screaming if another spider appears?"

“Ouch.”

“What do you want for dinner?” you ask, leaning forward to press your lips against his.

"Mmm," he hums softly as he kisses you, his hand gently cupping your cheek. "How about pizza? Or we could order takeout from that place you like near True Cross."

You pull back slightly, considering. "Pizza sounds good. Longer delivery time gives us more time for..." you trail off, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

"More time for studying, of course," Shima finishes with mock innocence, though his eyes glint mischievously. "What else could you possibly mean?"

You laugh and reach for your phone. "Right, studying. Great idea.” You hop off the bed and carefully walk out of the room. There’s bug spray under the sink in the kitchen, and as long as you can get there, everything will be fine. Taking a deep breath, you keep your eyes focused on the kitchen, determined not to pause or look at where the spider might be. 

Unsurprisingly, Shima follows you, just as cautiously. “Wait, _____, I think we can do something else instead of studying,” he complains. 

“It’s too late; you’ve already made your decision.” You laugh as you open the cabinet. “Now, my knight in shining armor, go spray the entire living room.” You raise the can and shake it slightly, gesturing for him to take it.

Shima dramatically groans, eyeing the can of bug spray as if it might bite him. "I thought I was your boyfriend, not your exterminator."

"Today, you get to play both roles," you say sweetly, pressing the can into his hesitant hands. "Think of it as multitasking in our relationship."

"Fine," he sighs, taking the bug spray with visible reluctance. "But you owe me."

"I'll order extra cheese on the pizza," you bargain, leaning against the counter.

"That's a start," he says, cautiously stepping toward the living room. "But I'm thinking of something more... intimate."

You can't help but smile at his shameless flirting even in the face of arachnid terror. "Just kill the spider, Romeo."

Shima grips the can like a weapon, his knuckles white from holding it so tightly. You observe from the safety of the kitchen as he inches forward, muttering what sounds suspiciously like an exorcism prayer under his breath.

"You know bug spray isn't holy water, right?" you joke.

"Not helping!" he hisses back, scanning the floor with the intensity of someone searching for a bomb. "Where did it even go?"

"I don't know! Just spray everywhere!"

"That's wasteful," he protests, but starts spraying along the baseboards anyway. "And probably bad for the environment."

"Since when do you care about the environment?" you question, still safely in the kitchen doorway.

"Since it became a convenient excuse not to—" Shima freezes mid-sentence, his eyes widening. "There it is!"

You follow his gaze to see the spider scuttling across the floor toward the TV stand. "Kill it! Kill it now!"

In a panic, Shima sprays wildly in the spider's direction, creating a small chemical fog in your living room. You both watch with bated breath as the spider's movements slow, then stop completely.

"Is it...dead?" you whisper.

Shima inches closer, still clutching the bug spray like a lifeline. "I think so?"

"Poke it with something."

"What? No!" He looks at you like you've suggested he jump off a cliff. "You poke it!"

"You're the exorcist!"

"And you're the one who made me face this eight-legged monster in the first place!" Shima protests, taking a step back from the motionless spider. "Besides, what if it's playing dead?"

"Spiders don't play dead," you argue, though you're not entirely sure that's true. "Just...use the broom handle."

Shima frantically looks around, spotting the broom he had abandoned earlier. With exaggerated caution, he retrieves it and extends it toward the spider as if he's poking a sleeping bear. The instant the bristles touch the arachnid, he jumps back.

"It didn't move!" he announces triumphantly. "I think we're safe."

You exhale in relief. "My hero," you say with just enough sarcasm to make him pout.

"I faced my greatest fear for you," Shima says, dramatically placing a hand over his heart. "I deserve a medal. Or at least a kiss."

Nodding in agreement, you step closer, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “A kiss.” Leaning forward, you lightly brush your lips against his and quickly pull away before he can respond. “A kiss.” You grin. However, as you attempt to walk away, he pulls you against him. “Don’t tease me. I risked my life for you.” He smirks just before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. The kiss begins softly, but his hand moves to the back of your neck, holding you gently as he deepens it. His other hand rests at your waist, pulling you closer. Then, he gives your side a quick pinch, making you gasp. That’s all he needs—his tongue slips into your mouth, brushing lightly against yours as he kisses you more firmly. When you finally pull away, you bite your lower lip before grinning. 

“I’m so glad you improved.” 

“Improved what?” 

“Kissing, remember our first—” His hand quickly covers your mouth. “What are you talking about? Some weird dream? Because we definitely didn’t have an awkward first real kiss like that.” 

“If you say so, Renzo,” you tease, before pressing your lips against his again. 

[fanfictionstuff]

Mephisto x Reader period fic WIP also 🩸👅🩸👅???

Sorry it's late! There is a mention of pregnancy at some point. But obviously reader is not pregnant.

You sigh, sitting on the sofa as Mephisto serves you a cup of tea. “How do you feel, darling?”

“It feels like I’m being stabbed.” You respond honestly, keeping your eyes on the TV. “The first day is always the hardest. Shouldn’t you be in your office? I assume you have more important things to do than watch me watching TV.” You glance at Mephisto out of the corner of your eye. 

The dramatics kick in as Mephisto looks at you, absolutely offended. “What could possibly be more important than my beautiful queen?” 

“Assiah.”

"Since you're in Assiah, it’s naturally important.” 

“Anime.”

“Of course not.” 

“Instant ramen.” 

“No.”

“Video games.” 

“Stop, you’re tearing my heart apart! You truly believe those trivial things are worth more to me than you?” He places a hand theatrically over his heart and collapses beside you. “Anime? More significant than my queen?”

“Right, anyway, could you grab a heating pad? At least be useful if you’re going to skip work.”

He straightens immediately and scans your body. “Part of the pain is how you are sitting; you need to stretch out more.” Before you can respond, he lifts his hand, snapping his fingers. Suddenly, you find yourself on a bed that seems to belong in one of the spare bedrooms. 

“Why are we in the spare bedroom?” You question relaxing on the bed, as you stare at the ceiling. 

“Well my darling, we’ve recently acquired some luxurious new sheets that were rather pricey.” He carefully climbs onto the bed beside you, his claws grazing softly along your thigh, having shed his gloves at some point. “I do believe this will be the best alternative to ensure my queen's utmost comfort.” 

“Does this comfort plan include a heating pad?” 

Mephisto leans over you, a smug smile playing on his lips. “My darling, there are countless ways to ensure your comfort. Over the past few years, haven’t we discovered the most effective ways to alleviate your pain?” Despite his words, a heating pad featuring chibi Mephisto figures materializes in his hand. After another snap, he changes you until you only have a t-shirt and underwear on. Along with your outfit, he removed something important. 

“Really?” You cross your legs, taking the heating pad from him. “My flow is always heavy for the first two to three days, so I should be using something. I know this is our spare bed, but I’d rather not stain it.” 

“Don’t worry, I don’t plan to waste a single drop,” Mephisto quips, a sly smirk playing on his lips as he tantalizingly licks his bottom lip, his eyes glinting with mischief. He gently pushes your shirt up, stopping just below your breast, and places the heating pad on your abdomen.

You let out a content sigh as the warmth seeps in, easing the cramps. With your eyes closed, you settle back against the bed, unfazed by Mephisto’s movements, even when he tugs at your underwear with his fingers. "I understand the heating pad brings relief," he begins, sliding his fingers into the waistband of your underwear for added emphasis, "but there are other methods to ease your cramps—methods we both find pleasurable." 

You open one eye, peering at him. "Is that your not-so-subtle way of saying you want to have sex?"

"Subtle? Me?" Mephisto's lips curl into a devilish grin as he slides between your legs, his towering frame casting a shadow over you. "I thought I was being quite direct, my love.”

The heating pad shifts as he leans closer, his forest green eyes darkening with desire. You can't help but laugh at his eagerness, though the sound transforms into a soft gasp when he slides the underwear down your legs. “You seem a little too exhausted for sex, so I just wanted to focus on the most important part. You smell delicious; I hate the idea of this going to waste.” As he speaks, he runs a finger along your folds. 

A shiver runs through you at his touch, your body responding despite the dull ache in your abdomen. "You're hopeless," you murmur, though there's no real protest in your voice. 

"I’m appreciative," Mephisto corrects, his hair falling forward as he lowers his head to press a gentle kiss to your inner thigh. "Every aspect of you deserves worship, especially during these times when your body performs such... fascinating natural magic." 

You roll your eyes at his poetic framing of menstruation but can't suppress a small moan when his tongue replaces his finger, tasting you with deliberate slowness. The warmth of the heating pad combined with the heat of his mouth creates a contrast that momentarily makes you forget your discomfort. 

"Better already?" he inquires, looking up at you with those entrancing eyes, a crimson smear on his lips makes you roll your eyes. 

"Getting there," you admit, threading your fingers through his purple locks. "Though I need more of your attention." 

Mephisto's laugh is dark and rich against your sensitive skin. "Then allow me to be thorough in my treatment," he purrs, his breath hot against your core. "After all, what kind of partner would I be if I left you in such distress?"

He moves with practiced precision, savoring every response from your body. Your grip tightens in his hair, drawing a pleased hum from deep in his throat that vibrates against you deliciously. The cramping pain begins to recede, replaced by waves of pleasure that make your toes curl.

"Mephisto," Your nails slightly dig into his scalp while arching slightly against the sheets as the tip of his tongue brushes against your clit.

He lifts his head just enough to meet your gaze, his gaze gleaming with satisfaction at your response. "Patience, my love," he whispers, his breath teasing your sensitive flesh. "Let me take care of you properly." 

He returns to your center with renewed purpose, circling your clit with precision. The sensation sends electric pulses through your body, making you forget the cramping entirely. Your back arches involuntarily as he delves deeper, tasting every inch of you with reverent dedication. 

"Oh god," your fingers tighten in his purple locks. The pressure of his mouth against you is intoxicating, each stroke building a delicious tension in your core. 

Mephisto hums against you, and slowly, he pulls away. “Not God, if anything, I worship you.” His large, powerful hands firmly grip your thighs, keeping them spread wide open to receive his attentions as he worships you with his mouth. The sight of his head nestled between your legs, his emerald eyes occasionally flickering upward to assess your every expression, only serves to amplify the mounting pleasure.

He moves lower, diving deeper inside, exploring with passionate intensity. Getting what he desires most. “You’re delectable.” He whispers against you, running his tongue over your opening, collecting more of the menstrual blood. 

The sensation makes your entire body quiver. Each stroke sends ecstasy rippling through you, temporarily erasing all discomfort. The cramps that had plagued you moments ago dissolve into nothingness, replaced by an intense heat that builds from your core and spreads outward. 

"Mephisto," you gasp, your fingers pulling his hair harder when he teasingly pulls back, just barely touching you. Your hips lift involuntarily, seeking more of the pressure. 

He responds by gripping your thighs more firmly, his thumbs making small, soothing circles against your skin as he devours you with passionate devotion. The contrast between his cool hands and hot mouth leaves you breathless. 

"That's it, my love," he murmurs against your sensitive flesh, his voice vibrating through you. "Give it all to me." 

His lips close around your clit, sucking gently while his tongue flicks rapidly across the sensitive bundle of nerves. The dual sensation is overwhelming, causing your back to arch sharply off the bed. Your mind goes blank, conscious thought replaced by pure, unadulterated yearning. 

The world narrows to a pinpoint of ecstasy as your orgasm crashes through you. Your thighs tremble against Mephisto's grip, your body tensing and releasing in rhythmic pulses. He doesn't relent, drawing out your desire with deliberate, measured strokes until you're gasping his name like a prayer. 

When the intensity finally subsides, leaving you feeling faint and panting, Mephisto rises to his full, imposing height. His white blazer is immaculate as ever, though his lips glisten with evidence of his devotion. He wipes his mouth with his thumb, then licks it clean with theatrical slowness. 

"Better?" he asks, his voice a silken purr. 

"Much," you admit, feeling the pleasant heaviness in your limbs that only comes after intense release. The cramps have receded to a dull, distant ache, easily ignored. "I love you.”

Mephisto's laugh is low and pleased as he adjusts the heating pad that had shifted during your enthusiastic activities. "I love you too.” 

“Did you make a mess?” You question, staring at the ceiling. 

“And waste this? Never.” He smirks, leaning back down to lick you once again. “If it wouldn’t overstimulate you, I’d never stop.” 

His satisfaction is almost tangible as he slides onto the bed beside you, one long arm draped possessively across your waist. "Your essence is particularly... potent during these times."

You turn to face him, noting the smug satisfaction radiating from his elegant features. "You make it sound like you're consuming some rare vintage wine instead of..." you trail off, gesturing vaguely toward your lower half. 

"Isn't it, though?" His fingers trace lazy patterns on your exposed skin. "A unique blend, available only during specific cycles, with notes that change subtly throughout." He leans closer, his breath warm against your ear. "And unlike wine, this particular vintage is exclusively mine." 

“Glad you enjoy it. The pain and just the fact I’m bleeding out of my vagina for multiple days sucks.” You sigh, moving the heating pad a bit lower.

Mephisto hums to himself looking thoughtful for a moment, “Well, there happens to be a way to stop it.” 

“Birth control.” 

“Pregnancy.” 

You narrow your eyes and stare at him. “You always bring up stuff at the oddest times.” 

“Your answer?” 

[fanfictionstuff]

Can you write something with Amaimon making him and reader get detention because she wants to hang out with her friends after school but he wants her to spend the day with him? lol

Sorry it's extremely late!

Amaimon x Reader Detention

I'm working on the requests bit by bit. I really need to complete the Lucifer x Doctor part 2 💀 I'm sorry it's taking so long

“Don’t look at me like that.” You sigh as Amaimon stares blankly at you in the middle of the hallway. Other students are rushing to class as the first bell has just rung, though your class is a few doors down, so you don’t feel as rushed. “Look, my parents are going to be getting home late tonight, so you can come over when I get home.” 

Amaimon still doesn’t look impressed by your offer. “No.”

“I love you, but I also have friends outside of our relationship,” you remind him, pressing your lips gently against his cheek. “I’ll give you two options: you can join us, or you can wait for me at my house. I promise I won’t be out too long, and we’ll still have plenty of time together before my parents come home.” Hearing his options, Amaimon glances back at your boring friends. “Okay.” 

“Which option did you choose?” 

“I want to spend all day with you.”  

You blink in surprise; you hadn’t expected him to agree to go out with your friends so easily. “So, you’ll join us?” You question cautiously. Amaimon leans forward to press his lips against yours. “I’ll spend all day with you.”

His wording is a bit concerning, knowing him, but you choose not to dwell on it. "Okay, come on, we need to get to class before the bell rings; we have an important test." Amaimon nods, grabbing your hand and tugging you into the classroom. 

“I don’t understand why I have to sit so far away from you,” Amaimon complains about the small gap between you. It’s just wide enough to squeeze in a third chair, though it would be a tight fit and uncomfortable. Honestly, the distance between the two of you now is the normal distance students typically sit in the classroom. “It’s to prevent anyone from cheating on the test; you know that. Are you going to complain every time?” 

“Yes.”

You roll your eyes but can't help the small smile tugging at your lips. His clinginess is something that shocked you when you first met him, and he decided he wanted to be your friend. You never would have expected a demon king to feel so attached to a human. 

"Just concentrate on your test," you whisper as the teacher starts handing out the papers. "And don't try anything funny."

Amaimon twirls his pencil between his fingers, his burgundy claws catching the light. "Funny? I'm not funny."

"Yes you are," you mutter, accepting your test from the teacher.

Throughout the exam, you can feel Amaimon's golden eyes boring into the side of your face. Every time you glance over, he is staring at you instead of his paper, his expression blank yet somehow intense. He has already finished, with his pencil discarded on the desk while he unwraps a lollipop.

When class finally ends, he's immediately at your side, his fingers intertwining with yours before you've even packed your bag.

"How do you think you did?" you ask, as he takes the bag from you. 

"I answered the questions," he replies flatly, as if that explains everything.

--------------------------

“Miss ______, I expected more from you.” You stand tensely in front of the teacher’s desk; he called you in just before lunch ended. Amaimon stands to your left, looking weirdly smug. 

“Sir, I don’t—” The words fade in your throat as your test paper is placed on the desk before you, and one with an identical grade, with the name Ambrosius Faust scrawled at the top. 

He didn’t. Your mouth goes dry as you stare at the papers before you. Not only are all the answers exactly the same, but in some areas, it even shows you both erased an answer and changed it. Making it impossible to claim you hadn’t cheated. He did. 

“Miss _____-“ 

“Why are you only speaking to her?” Amaimon narrows his eyes. 

The teacher straightens, looking slightly nervous. “I thought that maybe you aren’t aware it is cheating…” He spouts some bullshit, not wanting to get on the bad side of the headmaster’s nephew. It’s an unspoken rule that Ambrosius Faust is untouchable. 

“I’m aware it’s against the rules. I copied her paper.” He shoots a smug look towards you. “She told me I could copy her paper because I didn’t study.” 

Your jaw drops. When had you ever told him he could copy your paper? 

"I did not!" you protest, eyes going wide. "Sir, that's completely untrue."

The teacher's expression shifts between discomfort and resignation as he glances between you. He’s in an awkward position; on one hand, you’ve never cheated on anything, and you’ve always been a great student. Though everyone knows you have a relationship with Ambrosius Faust, even now, Ambrosius has a tight hold on your hand. There’s no way he can know whether you let him cheat off your test. "Regardless of who copied whom, this is a serious academic offense."

Amaimon nods in agreement. “Yes, you should give us both detention.”

"What?" you sputter, shooting Amaimon an incredulous look. His face remains infuriatingly neutral.

The teacher sighs heavily. "I'm afraid that's exactly what I'll have to do. Both of you will serve detention after school today."

"But—" you begin to protest, then catch yourself. There's no point arguing when Amaimon has already admitted to cheating. Your shoulders slump in defeat. "Fine."

As soon as you exit the classroom, you whirl on Amaimon, who looks annoyingly smug. "Are you serious? Why would you do that?"

"Do what?" he asks.

"Copy my test! And then tell the teacher I gave you permission!" You lower your voice as other students pass by, casting curious glances in your direction. “You don’t even need to copy my test, you’re smart.” 

“Because I want to spend time with you, without your friends around.” 

The realization hits you like a brick wall. "So you intentionally got us detention to sabotage my plans with my friends?" You cross your arms.

Amaimon unwraps another candy, popping it into his mouth with complete nonchalance. "Yes."

"You could have just said you didn't want to go," you hiss, checking your watch. I’ll have to text everyone letting them know I can’t come. You pull your hand from Amaimon, grab your phone, and open the group chat.

"I did say no," he points out. "You didn't listen."

“I did listen! I wasn’t going to force you to come. Let’s go, we’re going to be late for class.

----------------

The supervising teacher barely looks up from his book. "No talking. No phones. Do homework or sit quietly for the next hour."

“Amaimon.” You sigh, pushing him away—or at least attempting to—but the demon king doesn’t budge. If anything, he leans in closer to you, practically sitting in your lap in the back of the classroom. 

The teacher lifts his head; from his tense shoulders, he looks ready to scold you, but then he makes eye contact with Amaimon and quickly looks back down at the book, making it obvious he won’t bother the headmaster’s nephew. 

“Stop being angry at me. I don’t like it.”

"That's not how this works," you say, frustrated. "You can't just demand I stop being angry when you've done something wrong."

Amaimon frowns slightly at your words. "What would make you not angry then?"

You sigh, leaning back in your chair. "An apology would be a start."

"For what?"

"For sabotaging my plans! For copying my test and getting me in trouble!"

He blinks slowly, processing this. "I'm sorry you're upset."

"That's not—" You pause, recognizing this is probably the closest thing to an apology you're going to get from him. "Look, Amaimon, I understand you wanted to spend time with me, but there are better ways to handle it than this."

Amaimon leans forward, his warm breath fans against your face. “I did. I told you I wanted you to spend time with me. You tried to choose them over me.” 

"That's not what happened. I was trying to include you in my plans," you explain, trying to keep your voice calm. "But relationships require compromise. I care about you, but I also care about my friends."

Amaimon's expression remains blank. "I don't care about your friends."

"I know you don't," you say, reaching up to touch his face. "But you should care that they're important to me."

He catches your hand, pressing it against his cheek. “I only care about you. I don’t understand why I have to share you, when you don’t share me.”

“If you had friends, I would share you.” 

Amaimon frowns. “I don’t want you to share me. Why do you want to share me?”

You can't help but smile even though you're still frustrated. "That's not what I meant. I'm saying if you had friends you wanted to spend time with, I would understand."

"I don't need friends. I have you." He says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Everyone needs friends, Amaimon."

For a moment, he looks like he might argue, but instead, he nods in agreement. “You are my friend. I only need one.” 

Realizing this is a losing battle, you laugh. “You’re just being evasive now. Fine. I’m sorry. But you’re not going to stop me from going out with my friends. I’ll just start dragging you with me.”

Amaimon's golden eyes narrow slightly, considering your words. He toys with a strand of your hair, twirling it around one claw. "If I have to go, I want something in return."

You nod. "What do you want?"

"More time alone. Just us." His voice drops lower, and despite your frustration, you feel a flutter in your chest. "And I want to sleep over."

Your eyes widen. "My parents would never—"

"They don't have to know." He says it so simply, as if sneaking a demon king into your bedroom is the most natural thing in the world. Before you can tell him that’s an awful idea, he leans forward, pressing his lips to yours. “Let’s go. I’m hungry.”

“Amaimon, we’re in detention.” 

The demon king glances at the teacher and calls out to him, “I’m hungry, so we’re leaving now.”

[fanfictionstuff]

Have you thought about writing a fic that is kind of like the Amaimon and the Exorcist one but it's slightly different adding Seti into the relationship? So many times I've thought to myself 'I wish Seti would just kiss her' especially when he gets so angry about Amaimon and insulting her for loving Amaimon. I know you make a point that he doesn't view anyone like that, but I feel like it would work perfectly in another timeline. Seti still angry about the relationship but jealously being tied in too would be perfection because both are in love with reader. I can't stop playing scenes like that in my head when I read that fic sometimes.

Honestly, no. But mainly because I feel there wouldn't be interest. I know a lot of people don't like OC x reader added in with reader/character stories. Writing something and nobody reading is really defeating.

Also, Seti is jealous in the regular fic. Though it's not romantic, he does feel jealous. The reader has been his whole world for a long time, and suddenly, a demon comes along and claims he's in love with her. It's a big change that he has no choice but to accept because Amaimon is powerful.

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First kiss with Seti? 🥺🦊😘

Still trying to complete the Lucifer fic and working on other requests. Including rewriting one for Shima because it disappeared 😭

Reminder, Seti is a character from the Amaimon and the Exorcist fic

“Stop pouting.” Seti scolds you as he carefully takes your ankle in his hand, and your eyes flicker to your grandfather’s retreating back as he disappears within the tree line. Since his decision that Seti will be passed down to you, he has become stricter in training and making you work more with Seti, claiming your teamwork isn’t perfect and reminding you nonstop that he is a familiar, not a friend. “Why? I didn’t ask for this.” You spit bitterly. “I never said I wanted to become an exorcist or your master.” As you speak, you glare at your grandfather’s back. “I’m being put through ridiculous training. None of my classmates are anywhere near this level of training. I just want to be normal. If I have to be extremely powerful to be your master, I’d rather you be passed to one of my cousins. Seti, I can’t do it.”

The fox freezes for a moment before letting out a deep sigh. “Idiot. I don’t care how powerful you are, I’ll still be your familiar. Your grandfather didn’t choose me for you; I chose you myself. I don’t like your cousins—why would I want to work with them?” He carefully wraps your sprained ankle.

“But my grandfather cares, that’s why he’s making my life hell at the moment.”

“I’ll speak to him. I’m not some demon who requires someone strong to control me. I’m not so feeble-minded; I don’t mind if you’re weaker than I am, I’ll still become your familiar.”  He promises softly. “Is my grandfather stronger than you?” You don’t know Seti’s full strength; it’s something that has been skirted around now that you think about it. “He’s not, is he?”

Seti tightens the bandage. “The only thing you need to know is I will always protect you and help take care of you—because it’s clear you can’t do that for yourself.” 

Your eyes widen at the jab. “I can!”

"No, you can’t. I always take care of you, and I’ll continue to do so for your entire life, considering how things are going.” He scoffs, "How old are you now?” You bristle at his words and turn your head away. “You don’t even know how old—" 

“You’ll be seventeen next week.” He sighs. “What do you want for your birthday?”

“A break.”

Seti shakes his head, lying down beside you. You glance down at him; his amber eyes burn into yours for a moment before he closes them. “I want a break too,” he admits. Then, to add salt to the wound, he adds, “I’m tired of watching you fail.”

You glare at him and reach to tug on his left ear. His eyes shoot open in shock, but the expression is quickly replaced by a glare of his own. “Stop, my ears are sensitive.” You hold your glare for another moment before sighing and switching to scratching his ear. A low sound emits from his throat. “Are you purring?” You grin. “It feels good,” he admits unabashed, opening his eyes again. 

He holds eye contact with you for a minute before sighing and moving to lay his head in your lap. “Let’s go to the desert for your birthday. I’ll show you stars.”

“I’ve seen stars.”

“Not like in the desert.” He closes his eyes again, and you wonder if he’s thinking about home. He’s lived so long, seen so many changes in the world, and met so many people… “Hey, Seti. Who is your favorite person you’ve met?”

“I don’t like people.”

“Yeah, but you’re ancient, there has to be at least one—”

“Idiot, you already know the answer. You’re the only human I actually want to be around.” He cracks one eye open. “I’ve mentioned this before: I don’t like people. I have no fondness for anyone from my past, my previous masters, or even your grandfather. While I may respect some individuals, you are the only one I genuinely like.” 

“But that doesn’t make sense, there has to have been some human-“

He sits up and stares into your eyes. “Since you’re hard of hearing, I will say it again. I hate most people and dislike the ones I don’t hate. I’m not becoming your familiar for strength. I am becoming your familiar because you are the only one I care for. I couldn’t care less about how others feel about it.”

You blink, surprised by the firmness of his voice and the intensity of his eyes. It doesn’t make sense to you how he could be so sure of you when you’re so unsure yourself. Seti lets out a huff and shakes his head. He lowers his head back into your lap. "You’re the first human I still like even after spending so much time with. So be grateful."

You give a frustrated groan. “You could have had a powerful master. Instead, you’re going to be stuck with me tripping over my own feet.”

“Which is why you need me.” Seti sighs.

Reaching down, you tug gently on his left ear. “Do you really want to go on a trip? Won’t my parents annoy you?”

Seti rolls his eyes, “I don’t recall inviting them. I mean just me and you.”

“Without them?” You pause. “Really?”

“I don’t want to deal with them. They’re annoying and I can take care of you better than they can.” 

You blink, momentarily stunned. “You’re serious?”  

“I hate spending more time with others than necessary,” he reminds you.  

As you think about it, Seti takes your hand, nipping at your fingertips.  

You watch as his sharp teeth gently graze your fingertips, your surprise still evident. 

“Let me think about it.”

Seti nods, “We’ll go a couple of days before your birthday.” He nips at your fingers again, having already made the decision. “Weird of you to ask, when you clearly already planned for it.” You joke as he continues to nip at your fingers. It’s a habit he’s picked up recently, though you’ve noticed he doesn’t do it when others are around. 

You wonder for a moment how your grandfather will take it, he’s been acting odd regarding Seti recently. “I don’t think my granddad will be happy about it.” You stare down at the man in your lap. “He doesn’t want me to view you as anything other than a familiar. He’s been acting kind of weird lately.” 

Seti nods. “I’ve noticed.” 

“Does a vacation together fall outside the box of master and familiar?” You scratch his ear.  

He tenses momentarily before forcing himself to relax. "The fact that you’re the only person I like bothers him." Seti slowly sits up, locking his gaze with yours before shifting his attention to your lips. His brow furrows, seemingly torn for a second before murmuring something in his native language under his breath. Leaning forward, his lips lightly brush against yours, but he quickly pulls back, observing your reaction. 

You stare at him, stunned. “What was that?” 

“Idiot.” He scoffs, “It was a kiss.” 

“Why?” You ask softly, staring at him.  

Seti seems to ponder the question. “Because your stupidity is rubbing off on me. I must have gone insane to do this now.” He sighs, shaking his head. “Let’s forget this happened.”

“That’s why he keeps pressing you are a familiar. Not a friend, a familiar because…” You whisper. 

“Stop talking. This isn’t a conversation we should be having." He looks guilty for a moment. “I didn’t mean to kiss you,” he admits, digging his claws into the ground. 

“So you didn’t want to?” 

“Why do you have to ask stupid questions?” he growls as irritation begins to wash over him. “Yes, I wanted to. That’s why I did it.”

“Why—” Seti interrupts you with another kiss, one that lingers longer than before. You tense for a moment but find yourself kissing him back. He pulls away again, staring into your eyes, seemingly searching for something before resting his forehead against yours. “You’re a moron. What am I supposed to do with an idiot like you?”

“Seti?”

“Let’s forget this happened.” His voice is softer than you’ve ever heard it.

“You can just forget it?” You ask timidly.

“No.” He admits, his breath hot on your face. “But you can.”

“What do you-” 

Seti whispers something and watches as your eyes go blank. “I’m sorry. But we can pick this up in a couple of years.” He stands, holding your limp body in his arms. 

When you wake up, Seti is lying beside you on the bed in his fox form. “What happened?” 

“Exhaustion.” He sighs. “You passed out in the middle of our conversation about the trip.” He explains without lifting his head. “I told your grandfather to be realistic with your training. There’s no point if he works you to death.” 

“And the trip?” 

“I told your parents I’m taking you on the trip.” 

“They said it was okay?” 

“Always hard of hearing, I told them. I couldn’t care less if they agree or not.” 

[fanfictionstuff]

shima content please?🥺🙏

uhhh I had some content written and it's disappeared from my mac 😬

Wtf where did my mac hide half my shit 🤬

[fanfictionstuff]

MORE SETI CONTENT PLEASE I'M BEGGING YOU

Hell write a book for Seti and Reader.

That fox has a choke hold on me. I love him so much.

And I can't wait to read content with Amaimon and Seti.

I NEED THIS CONTENT. 🙇‍♀️🙏

Write a book. 😅 I'm not that good, but I'm glad you love him.

I am writing more Seti content and content with Amaimon x reader x Seti.

I've also got some Lucifer content I'm working on. People have been asking for part two of the Lucifer x Doctor fic for months, so I'm working on that at the moment.

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Ohhhh I got an idea. What about Amaimon and Seti arguing about who can get reader pregnant first???

Maybe Amaimon is like 'I want a baby' and hinting at it nonstop. Seti complains about Amaimon, but then he low key wants to have a baby too. Especially when reader is ovulating it gets to him.

Imagine little earth princess or prince and little kits running around. 😍

But I think maybe she should get pregnant with Amaimon's baby first otherwise he might get jealous and angry. Plus I feel like Seti would be a huge asshole about it.

The Amaimon x Reader X Seti fic ideas have now moved on to children?

I think it's an interesting idea, and you're probably right that Amaimon would need to have a child with her first. I think Seti would be okay with the first kid belonging to Amaimon because he'd be better behaved than Amaimon would. IMO, even if he were bitter. I don't think Amaimon would be able to be calm about Seti and Reader having a baby together first.

Also, it would be interesting in a Seti x Reader-only fic. I'm debating about her parents finding out she's in a relationship with Seti. Imagine they don't know until a baby comes out with fox ears, lol.