Living together in a big house with one (main) (shared) bathroom means that mornings can be tough.
When you first arrived at the House of Lamentation, it was hard to fit in. It was really hard to get into the bathroom in the mornings and fight six demons for use of the sink. If more than two others were in there at the same time, they practically formed a living wall that blocked you out, forcing you to wake up extremely early or risk being late for school.
That got better over time though. You gradually managed to fit into the house's morning routine.
---
Lucifer has his morning routine down to an exact science. Usually he's fully dressed and has his hair brushed before leaving the bedroom. He might be running on pure muscle memory though - one time you handed him a warm washcloth for his face and he just stared at it in confusion for several seconds with a furrowed brow. He has no problems getting it himself, but this break in routine gave him pause. It took Lucifer a moment to realize what it was and to thank you.
If you get the chance to eat breakfast together, Lucifer likes to ask about your day. "What do you have planned? Remember, we have that meeting at five. Did you prepare for the ancient hex exam?" He might slide a bit of his food onto your plate before he goes, a way of returning the pleasant energy boost you always provide for him.
---
Mammon can hustle. Which means that Mammon can get up early if it benefits him in some way. A part time job, an early bird discount, a chance to slip past Lucifer's defenses and borrow some cash.
That doesn't mean it's easy. Waking up takes some serious effort. Mammon will stumble into the bathroom to do his business first thing in the morning, yawning with his eyes half closed and tugging up whatever pants he just tossed on for modesty.
The tsundere part of his brain takes a few minutes to kick in if he's just woken up. If he spots you, Mammon will demand a good morning hug and wrap his arms around you, deaf to your cries of "Mammon! Go wash your hands before you touch me!"
---
Leviathan is always groaning in the morning. He's probably not aware of it. He's probably muttering complaints but is too tired to actually speak the words properly. His blankets are always a tangled mess, wrapped unevenly around his feet and contorted around his body, but Leviathan can easily Houdini his way out of them when it's time to get up. If there's no event or livestream to wake up early for, he'll sleep in for as long as he can before starting the day with a nice shower.
He finds warm running water to feel so pleasant and you can often find Leviathan spacing out next to the faucet. He'll greet you with a sleepy "ah, morning," and accidentally splash you in an attempt to wave his hand. The embarrassment and slight panic from getting you a towel to dry off with is usually enough to properly wake him up, and he sheepishly exits the bathroom and guards the door until you've finished changing into dry clothes.
---
Satan can hardly even put his shirt on properly when fully awake.
The man's a sleepy mess when he tries to get dressed in the morning. He'll stay up all night to finish a book he's invested in, then stumble out of his room "ready to go" when it's time for breakfast. His pants are unzipped and the button is coming undone. He's only got one sleeve on and it's on the wrong arm, or the buttons on his shirt are all misaligned and half have been skipped over.
He doesn't protest anymore when you tidy him up. Some mornings he'll doze off while you straighten his tie and fall forward into you, then try to play it off as a hug. Satan doesn't want to let go though, you feel so much warmer on a chilly morning.
---
Asmodeus is a rare morning riser. Too much sleep is bad for the skin, he claims. If he has trouble getting up, he'll either go soak in his private tub for energy or seek you out.
"You have to hear what happened last night," he'll say, strolling into your room while there's still ten minutes left on your alarm. He sits on the edge of your bed, and if you try falling back asleep he pulls you up into a sitting position. "Listen to this, you won't believe it!"
Asmodeus isn't afraid to get touchy if it means you'll wake up faster and he gets your attention. He'll sit you in his lap, or press you against his side, or run his hands down your face and squish your cheeks with a mischievous smile.
When the main bathroom is too crowded to use you're free to borrow his, with the caveat he gets to style you for the day and you might be late when he gets overzealous.
---
Beelzebub can also be found awake in the mornings. The quiet hours before everyone else wakes up are best for stretching, taking jogs, and grabbing a pre-breakfast appetizer. He'll get spooked if he hears footsteps approach the kitchen and slam the fridge door shut in a hurry, but all is well when he sees you enter the room instead of Lucifer.
Beelzebub is a big guy who takes up a lot of space. When you run into each other in the bathroom and are rushing to get ready, it's easy to bump into him. On days he's still pretty tired, he might not even notice you bonk your head against his arm. That's fine though - you don't want him to notice you until he's brushed his teeth. After all, Beelzebub's morning breath is a potent magical weapon.
If you need the bathroom sink while he occupies it, Beelzebub is kind enough to nudge you in front of him (once you've confirmed his mouth is minty fresh). You both get to use the mirror this way, and you can both see each other's smiling faces.
---
Belphegor is the king of oversleeping. The powers of you and his twin combined are hardly enough on some days, but mostly the responsibility of waking him falls to you. You quickly learned it's best to wake him from behind his head, if you can manage to maneuver your way into a suitable spot to do so. Anywhere his limbs can easily grab you will result in being pulled into bed. He's like a sleeping kraken.
You suspect that Belphegor wakes up easier than he lets on, but he feigns ignorance. He insists he was totally fast asleep when you struggled to physically drag him down the hallway towards the bathroom, wrapping your arms tightly around his torso with all your strength. And when he clung on to your waist and nuzzled his head into your stomach. And when Beel came to help free you from Belphegor's clutches, but he rolled you under him and muttered "mine now."
Definitely fast asleep, doesn't remember a single thing.
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college roommate!Miguel x reader
| gn! reader, masturbation, dildos, voyeurism
College Roommate!Miguel who gets back to your shared apartment after class and is puzzled by the noise complaint tacked to the door.
The fine print describes loud noises during the hours that he’s not at home, meaning it would have to be you. But that’s still odd.
In the handful of months that the two of you have been roommates, he’s never known you to be loud. In actuality, most people would probably consider you the perfect roommate. You’re quiet, clean up after yourself, cook extra food for him, stay on top of chores, and mostly stick to your room. When the two of you do spend time together, it’s never awkward, just… comfortable. Neither of you feel the need to over-exert yourselves with social interaction while in the comforts of your own home.
Miguel likes being around you. He thinks you’re pretty.
He brings up the complaint that night as you cook dinner side-by-side.
“By the way, I came home to a noise complaint today,” he says, chopping up veggies to throw into the noodle dish you’re making. “It said something about loud noises, but it’s only during the hours when I’m not around. Have you heard anything?”
He doesn’t look at your face, but he notices the way you pause.
“Oh, um,” you start, stirring up the noodles in the wok. “I dunno, I must have been playing my music a little too loud while you were at school. My bad,” you reply. “I’ll try to keep it down.”
Miguel shrugs. “Got it. No worries,” he replies. Since he’s never experienced you being loud, he doesn’t really know what else it could be. He lifts the cutting board, and sweeps the veggies into the wok.
It’s not until a week later when his final lecture of the day gets canceled that he figures out what the noise complaint could have been about.
He doesn’t see you when he walks in, but that’s nothing out of the ordinary. It’s only when he takes out his headphones that he hears it.
His first guess is that you’re crying, and it’s technically none of his business to figure out why. As he gets closer, though, he hears it; slick, wet sounds accompanied by your voice, a bit muffled, letting out the most debauched, lecherous wails he’s ever heard.
By some sheer, dumb stroke of fate, your door is open just a crack. His palms are sweating and his pants are tightening as he approaches. He considers turning away when suddenly he hears you, clear as day. You must have pulled away from whatever you had been pressing your face into.
“F-fuh- oh, god- Fuck, Miguel!”
All the blood in his body rushes to his cock, and he’s stepping closer faster than he can think, his eyes trained on that crack in the door. When he sees you, his mind goes blank.
You’re on your knees on the bed, your chest pressed to the sheets and your cheek turned away from him. Your arm is tucked under your torso and between your legs, fucking yourself silly with a flesh tan dildo that for a moment, reminds him of his own cock. Your pretty hole is absolutely soaked, and there's a frothy, white ring gathered at the base of the dildo that he wants to see you lick off.
He stays there, his hand squeezing at his now ridiculously hard cock over his pants as you push yourself up to face the headboard, adjust the dildo underneath you, and start bouncing.
You moan his name again. Then, as if remembering something, you press your hand over your mouth, swallowed by the sleeve of the hoodie that your other hand is tugging up your waist. The bed creaks beneath you, but you keep going.
Arousal lurches hot in his stomach when he realizes the hoodie is one he’s been missing for weeks.
Miguel only lets himself watch for a few more moments, hungrily taking in every inch of you, every noise that escapes your pretty lips and committing it to memory before he turns around and walks back to the door. He opens it wide, then slams it shut, loud enough for you to hear. Your moaning ceases.
His eyes are trained on your bedroom door as you rush over and shut it completely.
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