hibicactus

[hibicactus]

AHHHHHHH SOGOOD💓💓💓

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Asmodeus/AFAB Reader

Notes: trans asmo, pegging, he cries, angsty, hurt/comfort, terato, 4.2k words

☞. . . This took a WHILE. But! Another fic finished!! Based off this ask!

Many people would say that Asmodeus was dramatic. He knew he could be a bit prissy, but he didn’t think of himself as a drama queen. That is, until you need to leave. You couldn’t stay in the Devildom forever, he knew that, but he didn’t think that it’d be so soon. You had only been here for a year! That’s not nearly enough time for him! Especially when his brothers were dragging you every which way before your departure. 

And when he finally gets his hands on you, he totes you to a bar, hanging off your arm and playfully nudging at your shoulders. He thinks that if he got you drunk, you’d tell him that you loved him and would promise to stay. But it doesn’t work in his favor. Demonus won’t intoxicate humans, and he’s left a blubbering, whining mess after initiating the drinking competition. 

“Puh-please, don’ leave!” He hiccuped, genuine tears leaking from his perfect face. Mascara ran down his cheeks, his nose red and runny, bottom lip scrunched in a wobbly frown. But you had to leave, you couldn’t stay. He only faintly remembers being carried home by one of his brothers, and he only knows it was them from the rough-to-touch demonic skin (the same kind that he has, that he meticulously moisturizes to avoid). 

And he’s alone. He’s lonely, and no amount of liquor or sex will cure it. He misses you. Asmodeus tried, in the beginning, to drown away his sorrows after a week of sobbing and sniffling in his room. He tried to get loose at the Fall, but he couldn’t help but realize how…less fun it was without you. He tried to dance, and he tried to drink, and he even tried just to bob his head to the pumpy music, but it didn’t work. 

Asmodeus goes home early, and he doesn’t even realize that all he’d worn had been everything you had complimented; from the sparkly black clips to the baby pink socks. He doesn’t look cohesive at all. But he laughs, and laughs, and laughs, and laughs some more. He was silly, so utterly silly to think you hadn’t uprooted the very fibers of his being. 

Asmo thinks that maybe he’s more of a drama queen than he thought he was. 

It’s a long year away from you, his existence now void of you. It’s almost as if you sewed yourself into his being, embedding into his consciousness and controlling his thoughts, and then you were gone, torn away and leaving him less of what he was and should be. Asmodeus wishes he could find it in himself to be angry at you, truly angry, not like the hissy fits he threw after you parted. He wishes he could hate you and tear you limb from limb for breaking and crumbling his little heart like that, but the mere thought of putting you in pain makes him bawl all over again. He wishes that love could be a little easier. 

A portal opens overhead and you fall ass first on Satan. That was how you made your appearance back into the Devildom. It wasn't a gust of swirling wind and magic that allowed you to step into the threshold of his world from yours like he had imagined countless times. No, it was chaotic and unplanned, just how he expected you to appear despite his own fantasies. You were back again, and he was whole once more. 

Asmodeus gets his chance to have you alone even for just a moment when he and his brothers unknowingly gulp down Levi’s nerdy aphrodisiac, heat flooding into his bones and delirium settling into his brain.  

He can recall when you collided with him in the hallway, no doubt coming back from giving some of his brothers their rectifying orders. He remembers the “sit, dog!” order you barked and how that frenzied, manic feeling began to fade, and yet, he still wasn’t satisfied. Fire still burned under his skin, the flames of lust licking at his fingertips and toes. Asmodeus was able to get you to strip him of his shirt, blubbering about how he could ‘see the light’, and he might as well with how divine your hands felt on his chest. It was as if he was at the front of the pearly gates, the Celestial Realm ready to beckon him back in as his place as the Jewel of the Heavens. Though…Asmo doesn’t think it’d be all that fun anymore without you.

You caught on quickly, the clever human you are, to the fact the syrup had already worn off. You scoffed, rolling your eyes and huffing about how overdramatic he was to make you think he was dying. You smacked his chest like you were upset with him, but the way your hand lingered a moment longer than it should have made him think otherwise. 

But even those tiny touches alone weren’t enough to satisfy him, and Asmodeus was left craving more. He could barely wait a beat after you left to hurriedly push his hands into his pants, rubbing himself to the memory of how your hands felt, the warmth of them, where else he wanted them to venture. He isn’t used to feeling guilty when touching himself, but he feels a sickly sour feeling when he finally climaxes, without you. It’s not satisfying, but Asmo can’t bring himself to try again. 

When the brothers' excitement over your arrival finally begins to calm and wash over into a comfortable cohabitants, Asmodeus is given the opportunity to have you all to himself for a night. The frenzy of you was one he should have expected, but he couldn’t have truly predicted just how chaotic it would be. Asmo is surprised you hadn’t been ripped limb from limb with his brothers' incessant tugging. 

But he has you now, clad in matching silk pajamas he selected by hand and your fingers held delicately in his own. He swipes the nail file over your fingernails, shaving them down to the length you liked with practiced ease. You watch him with gentle eyes, but Asmo feels like prey all the same. 

“--and then he said that I had to get an A or I’d be hanged from the ceiling! What an asshole. Last time I checked, a C was still just as passing of a grade!” You ramble on about the eldest, rolling your eyes as you speak. You don’t think Lucifer would actually act on his threats, but it was annoying nonetheless. Asmodeus thinks it’s further reason why you should just stay with him instead, and spend all your time cuddled up on the bed together. That would be divine, wouldn’t it? Instead, he chuckles, offering you a sweetly charismatic smile. “Oh, don’t even worry about him. When it comes to you he’s all bark and no bite.” He inwardly cringes at his own words. He’d always just sound like the supporting friend, wouldn’t he? Always the gossiper, always the wingman. Never the lover.

You blow a raspberry, examining your freshly filed nails when Asmodeus releases your hand. “Still annoying, though. I wish he’d pull that stick out of his ass.” You snort but grin at the demon's handiwork. “Y’know, this is the nicest my nails have looked, you really are a cosmetic prodigy!” 

The demon beams at your praise, his little heart swelling in his chest. “Well, when you’ve had as much practice as I have,” Asmodeus playfully swooshes his hair, lifting his hands to show off his meticulous manicure. His nails truly are gorgeous; short, acrylic, coffin shapes painted pink with dainty gems pressed in. The little glitters shine under his chandelier light as you ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ over them. “Aren’t I just the prettiest?” He croons, lips curling into a smile, but a certain kind of desperation for your approval burns deep in his being. He needs you to love him, he needs you to adore him the way he does you. 

“Oh, so pretty!” You grin, stretching the sheet mask on your face with the expression. It reminds Asmodeus that it’s time to take it off, his hands reaching up to your face with a little tut. “Not to say that you aren’t pretty either,” he says, pulling the wet cloth off your face, using his fingertips to swipe the cleansing residue of the mask deeper into your skin. “Because you are, gorgeous, that is…” he trails off, eyes focused on yours as his thumb slides under your cheekbone. Your face is dewy with cleanser, fresh to the touch that matches your lidded eyes. Asmodeus finds himself easily enraptured, lips parted almost in amazement. How could someone be so…magical? 

There’s a moment of silence, a beat of hearts in unison, an intake of breath through teeth. Asmodeus feels his face get hot under the coolness of his own sheet mask and he rips it off in embarrassment. “I-”

“Kiss me,” he pleads, a trembling lilt in his voice. “Please.” He doesn’t think he could take the rejection if you said no. The split-second moment before you surge forward has his heart lurching, hammering behind his ribcage when he feels your lips on his. It’s finally the proper kiss he’s dreamed of, incomparable to any other kiss he’s had. You fit against him like a puzzle piece, like he was waiting for you all these centuries. 

His hands find their place on your shoulders, gripping them like you’d dissipate from his grasp at any moment. Asmodeus can taste his lip balm on your lips, the stick of it that he insisted you use–and he’s glad he did, your mouth is softer than heaven. 

A moan bubbles up from his throat and you swallow it down, your fingers threading through his soft, curled hair. You can feel his shiver when your tongue presses against his lips, pushing in and rubbing against his. 

Asmodeus finds himself needing air far sooner than he typically would, his chest tight and voice airy with lovesick exertion. Pulling away from the kiss feels like a betrayal, and his watery eyes show his desperation. You look into his eyes and he looks into yours, that peach swirl consuming you, eating you whole. His lust charm could never afflict you, but you’re drawn in nonetheless. 

“I,” he swallows, still gripping onto your arms tightly. “I missed you so much. I couldn’t leave my room after you left, I cried so hard and I- I felt so…so lonely.” Asmodeus confesses, wobbly tears rising to his waterline. He looks at you like you’re the moon and stars, like you’re all three realms wrapped into one. “I love you, I love you more than myself!” 

His confession almost whips the air from you, your breath stuttering. “I love you too, Asmo. I missed you too when I was up there.”

Asmodeus looks like he’s won an extravagant prize, awe in his shimmery eyes. And he laughs, in relief and in joy. You love him, you love him back. He throws his arms around you, giggling and laughing as he knocks you over.

He doesn’t think he could feel any happier. It’s almost as if everything in his long life has coalesced into this moment. He bumps his nose against yours, sniffling back tiny tears. You snort, wrapping your arm around his neck and kissing him again.

And this time, this time it’s more than just sweet and confessional. Asmodeus can recognize the feeling behind your mouth as one of needing, lustful. He returns the emotion as quickly as he can, moaning into your mouth when you hold his hip and carefully maneuver him under you. You lay between his legs, slotting in like you belonged there, lips moving sinfully against his. He almost laughs at the thought, sinful. He was sure you could do the most debauched thing and you’d still be angelic. Asmodeus already knew he was corrupted, and depraved, but he thinks that if you made him your pure, dutiful worshiper he really wouldn’t mind; not when you could corrupt him all over again yourself. 

He shivers when you bite his lip, nipping the flesh on your way to his jaw and neck. Briefly, the word “careful” rises on his tongue, that you need to be cautious marking up his skin but for the first time he finds himself wanting every inch of his skin to be lived in by you. 

Heat floods into his gut as you suck a mark into his neck, spreading down between his legs at the feeling. Somehow you know all his sensitive spots, pushing and prodding into what makes him melt. Not so subtly, Asmodeus ruts his hips up in desperate search of friction, his manicured fingers scratching against your scalp. “Please,” he whines, “please, I need more, please.” And he begs so beautifully. 

You pull your face away from the crook of his neck, his skin shining with your spit. “You wanna..?”

“Yes! Yes, do-do you wanna?”

“Fuck yes,” 

Asmodeus practically squeals in delight when you start fumbling with his pajama shirt buttons, excitement from your fingertips to your toes. Inch upon inch of peachy skin becoming exposed makes your mouth water, pushing his shirt aside to grope at the squishy flesh of his chest. He arches, pressing his breasts into your palms with a mewl on his lips. It’s almost as if there’s a fire in your hands, infecting his flesh with an irresistible lust and sensitivity.

Your thigh pushes between his where you kneel, sliding your hands across the grooves and dips of his chest and stomach. “My pants,” Asmo says between a swallowed breath. You take the hint, hooking your fingers into the elastic and tugging them down his thighs. He kicks them off with purpose, spreading his legs open. You can see light pink fabric cling to the center of his legs, dampened at his core. He must be throbbing. 

So you touch there, carefully pressing your fingers against the wet cloth covering his cunt and rubbing softly. The reaction is almost immediate, a bucking of hips and a cry for more. He’s tense, too wound up. 

The sound he makes when you press down hard against his erect clit sends a flood of hot wetness between your legs—and you’re suddenly aware of just how many clothes you’re wearing. And like he can read your mind, Asmo reaches up at your chest, nails flicking the buttons open. He makes a pleased sound when his palms hit your warm flesh, like a trill from the back of his throat. “I missed you,” he chokes, groping your chest and waist, eyelashes fluttering when your hand slides into his underwear. “I went crazy over you- I, I can’t wait, I’m so embarrassed,” he keens, his body bending and curling further into your touch. “I’m, I’m usually b-better at foreplay- oh!”

Your fingers slide into him, soothing that ache in the way he could only fantasize about. You pump your fingers, the damp fabric clinging to your knuckles as you finger him.

“Don’t you worry about that, I want you just as bad.” The words alone seem to satiate him somewhat, white-knuckling the sheets as you spread and curl your fingers. A well-timed crook of your pointer and middle has him gasping like a fish out of water, his clit pulsing against the heel of your palm. “Bottom drawer,” he squeaks between his pleasured sounds. 

“What?”

“Buh-bottom drawer, in-in there, fuck me,” he spits out, head knocking back against the pillows. It surprises even him how sensitive he’s become to just two of your fingers fucking him open. Asmodeus croons in disappointment when you pull your fingers free to search the drawer, despite it being his own command. And in that drawer next to his bed, at the very bottom, you find a harness with a dildo still tucked inside its loops. 

“Oh?” You muse, lifting it up and inspecting the gear. “Did you already have an idea in mind for us?”

It’s a clear, glassy toy secured in the pink harness, a little on the bigger side with a comfortable girth and small bumps along the ridge of it. Asmo’s face gets redder, something you didn’t think could happen. “A-aren’t I so well prepared, my dear?”

“Oh, I just assumed maybe you had a couple visitors and just didn’t put it away.” You meant it to tease, but the demon's face seems to fall the slightest bit. “No! No, I, um, I could only think of you…I liked to strap that to a pillow and pretend…” 

That— that does things to you. 

“Really?” You ask, hooking your thumbs under the waistband of your pants and kicking them off. Asmodeus licks his lips, nodding as you shed your underwear too. “Really.”

You step into the harness, pulling it up and fastening it around your hips. Asmo eagerly helps, pushing himself up and crawling to you, tugging on the straps to ensure its tightness. You give the toy a jostle and he groans. 

“Don’t tease, I don’t think I can take it.” He whines, moaning happily against your mouth when you lean in and kiss him. 

“I won’t make you wait,” you say between kisses, pushing him back against the pillows. Your fingers find his underwear, pulling them down his legs. He’s soaked, staining the fabric of his panties and leaving a gossamer trail of slick arousal. The demon spreads his legs, reaching down to help guide your glass cock to his aching cunt. 

The sound he makes when you push in is nothing less than exquisite. You believe him when he said he was the jewel of the heavens as only an angel can make a sound that enchanting, fallen or not. He hooks his arm over your shoulders, kissing you hard as you bottom out. 

His chest presses against yours, warm and soft, heart thump, thump, thumping alongside yours. You wish you could feel how hot and tight he must be, clinging to the toy, soft and gummy. 

“Please,” he whimpers against your lips, curling his legs around your waist. You give a shallow, testing thrust, pleased with the whiney hum that tears from his throat. 

He holds you so closely, breathing heavy as you pick up your pace to a steady rock. The movement feels natural, just as natural as it feels to have him in your arms, so pliant and open for you. It sets your entire being ablaze, to know that the embodiment of sex and lust himself craves you so intensely. 

“I love you,” Asmodeus hiccups, crossing his ankles over the small of your back. “I luh-love you! I love you, I love you-” he babbles on, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. His body is hot, almost unbearably so. The glass of the toy has long since warmed in his core, knocking off that chill that jolted his nerves and wound him up higher. 

He’s never felt so good, the steady plunging of your cock, the harnesses material rubbing his clit with each thrust, the weight and heat of your body–he feels like he could melt. But- somethings wrong. Something is wrong. This feeling has never occurred before, not during sex at least; it’s like his skin is starting to shed and- oh no, no, no, no!

Not now, not now! Asmodeus pleads, that inching fiery heat of his humanoid skin beginning to ripple away, exposing scaled, monstrous flesh. You no doubt feel it, the sudden shifting and undulating of his new ugly body coming to light. 

You pull yourself up and he chokes back a sob. “Don’t leave me,” he can’t help it now, he's crying. He’s crying as a thick tail pushes itself from his back and his jaw unhinges like a snake, splitting down the middle and exposing thick, venomous teeth. “Don’t leave me, please!” Asmo gurgles, big fat tears streaming down his face. He’s scared to touch you, he shouldn’t be allowed now, not with his long claws and hideous hands. He’s torn his sheets with the point of his tail and hooking of his horns. He covers his face, bordering on hysterical crying.

“Asmo-”

“No! I’m ugly!” He cries, an underlining hiss in his voice, uncontrolled. 

“Asmo!” You grab his wrists and pull his hands from his face. His expression is one twisted into pain and turmoil, fat tears clouding his peach eyes. “Asmo, you’re beautiful,” you say, cupping his face, the two halves of his jaw pushing back together. “You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid my eyes on, you are so far from ugly.”

He looks at you, astonishment in his tear-muddied eyes. “I’m so honored you’d let me see this side of you,” you breathe out, tracing your hands across his rougher skin, the shimmering exoskeleton that spreads across the mass of his body. “You’re so gorgeous.” Like the drop of water that sends the glass spilling, you lean down and kiss between his eyes, thumbs stroking under his eyes. 

Asmodeus cries harder, wailing and squealing and making a concoction of sounds you’ve never heard before. “Luh-huh-uv meee,” he pleads, oh so carefully clutching your shoulders again, his clawed feet shaking above your waist. “Pleeease,” he clenches around the toy, the slick between his legs thicker, more viscous. 

“Whatever you need, my love.” You coo to him, holding his face so carefully in your hands as you begin to rock again. Asmo looks up at you like you’re his entire world, like you’re all three realms combined along with all the stars in the sky. He trills and croons as you get faster, panting raggedly and you move your hands to grab his hips instead, leaning up for leverage as you begin to properly fuck him. You want him to feel your love from the inside out, you want him to know how intoxicating he is no matter his form.

His hands curl up behind his head, grabbing at his pillow and clutching for dear life as you angle your hips a little and-

“OH! Oh, Oh, Ughn!” 

That’s what you wanted to hear. 

His external genetalia has changed too, but you can still make out what is sensitive and what isn’t, lucky for you. Theres a small, pulsing nub at the top of his stretched hole, and you find that you’ve guessed correctly when you stroke it and he screams. Its a chant of ‘there, there’ and ‘please, please’ that makes you run hotter, humping into him quickly. 

The fabric of the harness grinds against you deliciously and you rut your clit against it with each deep thrust, your thumb still moving tight circles on his. You’re getting close, you can feel it as the heat pools in your gut and your legs get tight.

“I love you,” you say to him, sweat dripping down your brow bone and prickling your skin. “I love you, Asmodeus.”

You watch the moment his pupils dilate, blowing out the pink of his iris. You feel his legs tighten around your hips, pulling you in deeper as his arm slings over your neck and he kisses you. The separation of his jaw and long, waggling tongue makes it not so much of a kiss than a face hugger, but it gets you hot nonetheless, pushing your tongue out to rub against his. Asmodeus makes a final, loud bellow as he cums, his body going ridgid and loose at the same time.

You fuck him through it, your own thrusts going shakey as you finally reach that high, colors dancing behind your eyes as you climax with him. 

Time seems to stand still for the moments you both catch your breath, only the soft music from Asmo’s radio filling the void of sound. You peer down, biting your lip at the soft pink splatter of cum covering the insides of his thighs and the toy. Even his jizz is cute, you think. The release and rush of relaxation allows his glamor to cover him again, his skin reverting back to its soft texture and his bug like extremities shrinking back into his body. And if anything, he looks…embarrased.

“Are you ok?” You ask gently, pulling out of him carefully and unhooking the strap on. 

“You…you didn’t leave me.” He replies softly, hushed like if he spoke louder you’d change your mind and run away. 

“Of course I didn’t!” You lay beside him, guiding his head to lay on your chest. “I would never leave you like that.”

Asmodeus sniffles, his eyes still red and puffy. He nuzzles his nose against your sternum, laying his hand against your beating heart. He remembers his first time in the Devildom, or at least the attempt of it. He remembers how he got so overwhelmed he lost control of himself and showed the buggy flesh he shared with you only moments ago. He remembers how they ran away, terrified or intimidated he wasn’t sure. He feels foolish to assume you’d be like that lesser creature from a millenia ago. 

“We ruined our spa night.” You say suddenly, smiling anyway. “You wanna redo it? I can run us a bath and I can show you some more how gorgeous I think you are.” 

Yeah, Asmodeus smiles, kissing you sweetly, you really are something else. 

[hibicactus]

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Asmodeus/AFAB Reader

Notes: trans asmo, pegging, he cries, angsty, hurt/comfort, terato, 4.2k words

☞. . . This took a WHILE. But! Another fic finished!! Based off this ask!

Many people would say that Asmodeus was dramatic. He knew he could be a bit prissy, but he didn’t think of himself as a drama queen. That is, until you need to leave. You couldn’t stay in the Devildom forever, he knew that, but he didn’t think that it’d be so soon. You had only been here for a year! That’s not nearly enough time for him! Especially when his brothers were dragging you every which way before your departure. 

And when he finally gets his hands on you, he totes you to a bar, hanging off your arm and playfully nudging at your shoulders. He thinks that if he got you drunk, you’d tell him that you loved him and would promise to stay. But it doesn’t work in his favor. Demonus won’t intoxicate humans, and he’s left a blubbering, whining mess after initiating the drinking competition. 

“Puh-please, don’ leave!” He hiccuped, genuine tears leaking from his perfect face. Mascara ran down his cheeks, his nose red and runny, bottom lip scrunched in a wobbly frown. But you had to leave, you couldn’t stay. He only faintly remembers being carried home by one of his brothers, and he only knows it was them from the rough-to-touch demonic skin (the same kind that he has, that he meticulously moisturizes to avoid). 

And he’s alone. He’s lonely, and no amount of liquor or sex will cure it. He misses you. Asmodeus tried, in the beginning, to drown away his sorrows after a week of sobbing and sniffling in his room. He tried to get loose at the Fall, but he couldn’t help but realize how…less fun it was without you. He tried to dance, and he tried to drink, and he even tried just to bob his head to the pumpy music, but it didn’t work. 

Asmodeus goes home early, and he doesn’t even realize that all he’d worn had been everything you had complimented; from the sparkly black clips to the baby pink socks. He doesn’t look cohesive at all. But he laughs, and laughs, and laughs, and laughs some more. He was silly, so utterly silly to think you hadn’t uprooted the very fibers of his being. 

Asmo thinks that maybe he’s more of a drama queen than he thought he was. 

It’s a long year away from you, his existence now void of you. It’s almost as if you sewed yourself into his being, embedding into his consciousness and controlling his thoughts, and then you were gone, torn away and leaving him less of what he was and should be. Asmodeus wishes he could find it in himself to be angry at you, truly angry, not like the hissy fits he threw after you parted. He wishes he could hate you and tear you limb from limb for breaking and crumbling his little heart like that, but the mere thought of putting you in pain makes him bawl all over again. He wishes that love could be a little easier. 

A portal opens overhead and you fall ass first on Satan. That was how you made your appearance back into the Devildom. It wasn't a gust of swirling wind and magic that allowed you to step into the threshold of his world from yours like he had imagined countless times. No, it was chaotic and unplanned, just how he expected you to appear despite his own fantasies. You were back again, and he was whole once more. 

Asmodeus gets his chance to have you alone even for just a moment when he and his brothers unknowingly gulp down Levi’s nerdy aphrodisiac, heat flooding into his bones and delirium settling into his brain.  

He can recall when you collided with him in the hallway, no doubt coming back from giving some of his brothers their rectifying orders. He remembers the “sit, dog!” order you barked and how that frenzied, manic feeling began to fade, and yet, he still wasn’t satisfied. Fire still burned under his skin, the flames of lust licking at his fingertips and toes. Asmodeus was able to get you to strip him of his shirt, blubbering about how he could ‘see the light’, and he might as well with how divine your hands felt on his chest. It was as if he was at the front of the pearly gates, the Celestial Realm ready to beckon him back in as his place as the Jewel of the Heavens. Though…Asmo doesn’t think it’d be all that fun anymore without you.

You caught on quickly, the clever human you are, to the fact the syrup had already worn off. You scoffed, rolling your eyes and huffing about how overdramatic he was to make you think he was dying. You smacked his chest like you were upset with him, but the way your hand lingered a moment longer than it should have made him think otherwise. 

But even those tiny touches alone weren’t enough to satisfy him, and Asmodeus was left craving more. He could barely wait a beat after you left to hurriedly push his hands into his pants, rubbing himself to the memory of how your hands felt, the warmth of them, where else he wanted them to venture. He isn’t used to feeling guilty when touching himself, but he feels a sickly sour feeling when he finally climaxes, without you. It’s not satisfying, but Asmo can’t bring himself to try again. 

When the brothers' excitement over your arrival finally begins to calm and wash over into a comfortable cohabitants, Asmodeus is given the opportunity to have you all to himself for a night. The frenzy of you was one he should have expected, but he couldn’t have truly predicted just how chaotic it would be. Asmo is surprised you hadn’t been ripped limb from limb with his brothers' incessant tugging. 

But he has you now, clad in matching silk pajamas he selected by hand and your fingers held delicately in his own. He swipes the nail file over your fingernails, shaving them down to the length you liked with practiced ease. You watch him with gentle eyes, but Asmo feels like prey all the same. 

“--and then he said that I had to get an A or I’d be hanged from the ceiling! What an asshole. Last time I checked, a C was still just as passing of a grade!” You ramble on about the eldest, rolling your eyes as you speak. You don’t think Lucifer would actually act on his threats, but it was annoying nonetheless. Asmodeus thinks it’s further reason why you should just stay with him instead, and spend all your time cuddled up on the bed together. That would be divine, wouldn’t it? Instead, he chuckles, offering you a sweetly charismatic smile. “Oh, don’t even worry about him. When it comes to you he’s all bark and no bite.” He inwardly cringes at his own words. He’d always just sound like the supporting friend, wouldn’t he? Always the gossiper, always the wingman. Never the lover.

You blow a raspberry, examining your freshly filed nails when Asmodeus releases your hand. “Still annoying, though. I wish he’d pull that stick out of his ass.” You snort but grin at the demon's handiwork. “Y’know, this is the nicest my nails have looked, you really are a cosmetic prodigy!” 

The demon beams at your praise, his little heart swelling in his chest. “Well, when you’ve had as much practice as I have,” Asmodeus playfully swooshes his hair, lifting his hands to show off his meticulous manicure. His nails truly are gorgeous; short, acrylic, coffin shapes painted pink with dainty gems pressed in. The little glitters shine under his chandelier light as you ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ over them. “Aren’t I just the prettiest?” He croons, lips curling into a smile, but a certain kind of desperation for your approval burns deep in his being. He needs you to love him, he needs you to adore him the way he does you. 

“Oh, so pretty!” You grin, stretching the sheet mask on your face with the expression. It reminds Asmodeus that it’s time to take it off, his hands reaching up to your face with a little tut. “Not to say that you aren’t pretty either,” he says, pulling the wet cloth off your face, using his fingertips to swipe the cleansing residue of the mask deeper into your skin. “Because you are, gorgeous, that is…” he trails off, eyes focused on yours as his thumb slides under your cheekbone. Your face is dewy with cleanser, fresh to the touch that matches your lidded eyes. Asmodeus finds himself easily enraptured, lips parted almost in amazement. How could someone be so…magical? 

There’s a moment of silence, a beat of hearts in unison, an intake of breath through teeth. Asmodeus feels his face get hot under the coolness of his own sheet mask and he rips it off in embarrassment. “I-”

“Kiss me,” he pleads, a trembling lilt in his voice. “Please.” He doesn’t think he could take the rejection if you said no. The split-second moment before you surge forward has his heart lurching, hammering behind his ribcage when he feels your lips on his. It’s finally the proper kiss he’s dreamed of, incomparable to any other kiss he’s had. You fit against him like a puzzle piece, like he was waiting for you all these centuries. 

His hands find their place on your shoulders, gripping them like you’d dissipate from his grasp at any moment. Asmodeus can taste his lip balm on your lips, the stick of it that he insisted you use–and he’s glad he did, your mouth is softer than heaven. 

A moan bubbles up from his throat and you swallow it down, your fingers threading through his soft, curled hair. You can feel his shiver when your tongue presses against his lips, pushing in and rubbing against his. 

Asmodeus finds himself needing air far sooner than he typically would, his chest tight and voice airy with lovesick exertion. Pulling away from the kiss feels like a betrayal, and his watery eyes show his desperation. You look into his eyes and he looks into yours, that peach swirl consuming you, eating you whole. His lust charm could never afflict you, but you’re drawn in nonetheless. 

“I,” he swallows, still gripping onto your arms tightly. “I missed you so much. I couldn’t leave my room after you left, I cried so hard and I- I felt so…so lonely.” Asmodeus confesses, wobbly tears rising to his waterline. He looks at you like you’re the moon and stars, like you’re all three realms wrapped into one. “I love you, I love you more than myself!” 

His confession almost whips the air from you, your breath stuttering. “I love you too, Asmo. I missed you too when I was up there.”

Asmodeus looks like he’s won an extravagant prize, awe in his shimmery eyes. And he laughs, in relief and in joy. You love him, you love him back. He throws his arms around you, giggling and laughing as he knocks you over.

He doesn’t think he could feel any happier. It’s almost as if everything in his long life has coalesced into this moment. He bumps his nose against yours, sniffling back tiny tears. You snort, wrapping your arm around his neck and kissing him again.

And this time, this time it’s more than just sweet and confessional. Asmodeus can recognize the feeling behind your mouth as one of needing, lustful. He returns the emotion as quickly as he can, moaning into your mouth when you hold his hip and carefully maneuver him under you. You lay between his legs, slotting in like you belonged there, lips moving sinfully against his. He almost laughs at the thought, sinful. He was sure you could do the most debauched thing and you’d still be angelic. Asmodeus already knew he was corrupted, and depraved, but he thinks that if you made him your pure, dutiful worshiper he really wouldn’t mind; not when you could corrupt him all over again yourself. 

He shivers when you bite his lip, nipping the flesh on your way to his jaw and neck. Briefly, the word “careful” rises on his tongue, that you need to be cautious marking up his skin but for the first time he finds himself wanting every inch of his skin to be lived in by you. 

Heat floods into his gut as you suck a mark into his neck, spreading down between his legs at the feeling. Somehow you know all his sensitive spots, pushing and prodding into what makes him melt. Not so subtly, Asmodeus ruts his hips up in desperate search of friction, his manicured fingers scratching against your scalp. “Please,” he whines, “please, I need more, please.” And he begs so beautifully. 

You pull your face away from the crook of his neck, his skin shining with your spit. “You wanna..?”

“Yes! Yes, do-do you wanna?”

“Fuck yes,” 

Asmodeus practically squeals in delight when you start fumbling with his pajama shirt buttons, excitement from your fingertips to your toes. Inch upon inch of peachy skin becoming exposed makes your mouth water, pushing his shirt aside to grope at the squishy flesh of his chest. He arches, pressing his breasts into your palms with a mewl on his lips. It’s almost as if there’s a fire in your hands, infecting his flesh with an irresistible lust and sensitivity.

Your thigh pushes between his where you kneel, sliding your hands across the grooves and dips of his chest and stomach. “My pants,” Asmo says between a swallowed breath. You take the hint, hooking your fingers into the elastic and tugging them down his thighs. He kicks them off with purpose, spreading his legs open. You can see light pink fabric cling to the center of his legs, dampened at his core. He must be throbbing. 

So you touch there, carefully pressing your fingers against the wet cloth covering his cunt and rubbing softly. The reaction is almost immediate, a bucking of hips and a cry for more. He’s tense, too wound up. 

The sound he makes when you press down hard against his erect clit sends a flood of hot wetness between your legs—and you’re suddenly aware of just how many clothes you’re wearing. And like he can read your mind, Asmo reaches up at your chest, nails flicking the buttons open. He makes a pleased sound when his palms hit your warm flesh, like a trill from the back of his throat. “I missed you,” he chokes, groping your chest and waist, eyelashes fluttering when your hand slides into his underwear. “I went crazy over you- I, I can’t wait, I’m so embarrassed,” he keens, his body bending and curling further into your touch. “I’m, I’m usually b-better at foreplay- oh!”

Your fingers slide into him, soothing that ache in the way he could only fantasize about. You pump your fingers, the damp fabric clinging to your knuckles as you finger him.

“Don’t you worry about that, I want you just as bad.” The words alone seem to satiate him somewhat, white-knuckling the sheets as you spread and curl your fingers. A well-timed crook of your pointer and middle has him gasping like a fish out of water, his clit pulsing against the heel of your palm. “Bottom drawer,” he squeaks between his pleasured sounds. 

“What?”

“Buh-bottom drawer, in-in there, fuck me,” he spits out, head knocking back against the pillows. It surprises even him how sensitive he’s become to just two of your fingers fucking him open. Asmodeus croons in disappointment when you pull your fingers free to search the drawer, despite it being his own command. And in that drawer next to his bed, at the very bottom, you find a harness with a dildo still tucked inside its loops. 

“Oh?” You muse, lifting it up and inspecting the gear. “Did you already have an idea in mind for us?”

It’s a clear, glassy toy secured in the pink harness, a little on the bigger side with a comfortable girth and small bumps along the ridge of it. Asmo’s face gets redder, something you didn’t think could happen. “A-aren’t I so well prepared, my dear?”

“Oh, I just assumed maybe you had a couple visitors and just didn’t put it away.” You meant it to tease, but the demon's face seems to fall the slightest bit. “No! No, I, um, I could only think of you…I liked to strap that to a pillow and pretend…” 

That— that does things to you. 

“Really?” You ask, hooking your thumbs under the waistband of your pants and kicking them off. Asmodeus licks his lips, nodding as you shed your underwear too. “Really.”

You step into the harness, pulling it up and fastening it around your hips. Asmo eagerly helps, pushing himself up and crawling to you, tugging on the straps to ensure its tightness. You give the toy a jostle and he groans. 

“Don’t tease, I don’t think I can take it.” He whines, moaning happily against your mouth when you lean in and kiss him. 

“I won’t make you wait,” you say between kisses, pushing him back against the pillows. Your fingers find his underwear, pulling them down his legs. He’s soaked, staining the fabric of his panties and leaving a gossamer trail of slick arousal. The demon spreads his legs, reaching down to help guide your glass cock to his aching cunt. 

The sound he makes when you push in is nothing less than exquisite. You believe him when he said he was the jewel of the heavens as only an angel can make a sound that enchanting, fallen or not. He hooks his arm over your shoulders, kissing you hard as you bottom out. 

His chest presses against yours, warm and soft, heart thump, thump, thumping alongside yours. You wish you could feel how hot and tight he must be, clinging to the toy, soft and gummy. 

“Please,” he whimpers against your lips, curling his legs around your waist. You give a shallow, testing thrust, pleased with the whiney hum that tears from his throat. 

He holds you so closely, breathing heavy as you pick up your pace to a steady rock. The movement feels natural, just as natural as it feels to have him in your arms, so pliant and open for you. It sets your entire being ablaze, to know that the embodiment of sex and lust himself craves you so intensely. 

“I love you,” Asmodeus hiccups, crossing his ankles over the small of your back. “I luh-love you! I love you, I love you-” he babbles on, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. His body is hot, almost unbearably so. The glass of the toy has long since warmed in his core, knocking off that chill that jolted his nerves and wound him up higher. 

He’s never felt so good, the steady plunging of your cock, the harnesses material rubbing his clit with each thrust, the weight and heat of your body–he feels like he could melt. But- somethings wrong. Something is wrong. This feeling has never occurred before, not during sex at least; it’s like his skin is starting to shed and- oh no, no, no, no!

Not now, not now! Asmodeus pleads, that inching fiery heat of his humanoid skin beginning to ripple away, exposing scaled, monstrous flesh. You no doubt feel it, the sudden shifting and undulating of his new ugly body coming to light. 

You pull yourself up and he chokes back a sob. “Don’t leave me,” he can’t help it now, he's crying. He’s crying as a thick tail pushes itself from his back and his jaw unhinges like a snake, splitting down the middle and exposing thick, venomous teeth. “Don’t leave me, please!” Asmo gurgles, big fat tears streaming down his face. He’s scared to touch you, he shouldn’t be allowed now, not with his long claws and hideous hands. He’s torn his sheets with the point of his tail and hooking of his horns. He covers his face, bordering on hysterical crying.

“Asmo-”

“No! I’m ugly!” He cries, an underlining hiss in his voice, uncontrolled. 

“Asmo!” You grab his wrists and pull his hands from his face. His expression is one twisted into pain and turmoil, fat tears clouding his peach eyes. “Asmo, you’re beautiful,” you say, cupping his face, the two halves of his jaw pushing back together. “You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid my eyes on, you are so far from ugly.”

He looks at you, astonishment in his tear-muddied eyes. “I’m so honored you’d let me see this side of you,” you breathe out, tracing your hands across his rougher skin, the shimmering exoskeleton that spreads across the mass of his body. “You’re so gorgeous.” Like the drop of water that sends the glass spilling, you lean down and kiss between his eyes, thumbs stroking under his eyes. 

Asmodeus cries harder, wailing and squealing and making a concoction of sounds you’ve never heard before. “Luh-huh-uv meee,” he pleads, oh so carefully clutching your shoulders again, his clawed feet shaking above your waist. “Pleeease,” he clenches around the toy, the slick between his legs thicker, more viscous. 

“Whatever you need, my love.” You coo to him, holding his face so carefully in your hands as you begin to rock again. Asmo looks up at you like you’re his entire world, like you’re all three realms combined along with all the stars in the sky. He trills and croons as you get faster, panting raggedly and you move your hands to grab his hips instead, leaning up for leverage as you begin to properly fuck him. You want him to feel your love from the inside out, you want him to know how intoxicating he is no matter his form.

His hands curl up behind his head, grabbing at his pillow and clutching for dear life as you angle your hips a little and-

“OH! Oh, Oh, Ughn!” 

That’s what you wanted to hear. 

His external genetalia has changed too, but you can still make out what is sensitive and what isn’t, lucky for you. Theres a small, pulsing nub at the top of his stretched hole, and you find that you’ve guessed correctly when you stroke it and he screams. Its a chant of ‘there, there’ and ‘please, please’ that makes you run hotter, humping into him quickly. 

The fabric of the harness grinds against you deliciously and you rut your clit against it with each deep thrust, your thumb still moving tight circles on his. You’re getting close, you can feel it as the heat pools in your gut and your legs get tight.

“I love you,” you say to him, sweat dripping down your brow bone and prickling your skin. “I love you, Asmodeus.”

You watch the moment his pupils dilate, blowing out the pink of his iris. You feel his legs tighten around your hips, pulling you in deeper as his arm slings over your neck and he kisses you. The separation of his jaw and long, waggling tongue makes it not so much of a kiss than a face hugger, but it gets you hot nonetheless, pushing your tongue out to rub against his. Asmodeus makes a final, loud bellow as he cums, his body going ridgid and loose at the same time.

You fuck him through it, your own thrusts going shakey as you finally reach that high, colors dancing behind your eyes as you climax with him. 

Time seems to stand still for the moments you both catch your breath, only the soft music from Asmo’s radio filling the void of sound. You peer down, biting your lip at the soft pink splatter of cum covering the insides of his thighs and the toy. Even his jizz is cute, you think. The release and rush of relaxation allows his glamor to cover him again, his skin reverting back to its soft texture and his bug like extremities shrinking back into his body. And if anything, he looks…embarrased.

“Are you ok?” You ask gently, pulling out of him carefully and unhooking the strap on. 

“You…you didn’t leave me.” He replies softly, hushed like if he spoke louder you’d change your mind and run away. 

“Of course I didn’t!” You lay beside him, guiding his head to lay on your chest. “I would never leave you like that.”

Asmodeus sniffles, his eyes still red and puffy. He nuzzles his nose against your sternum, laying his hand against your beating heart. He remembers his first time in the Devildom, or at least the attempt of it. He remembers how he got so overwhelmed he lost control of himself and showed the buggy flesh he shared with you only moments ago. He remembers how they ran away, terrified or intimidated he wasn’t sure. He feels foolish to assume you’d be like that lesser creature from a millenia ago. 

“We ruined our spa night.” You say suddenly, smiling anyway. “You wanna redo it? I can run us a bath and I can show you some more how gorgeous I think you are.” 

Yeah, Asmodeus smiles, kissing you sweetly, you really are something else. 

[hibicactus]

Do you intend to make a sequel to the last one? I liked your writing

Thanks!! I plan to finish it eventually, but irl stuff has been a bit busier these days and I keep getting distracted lol

[hibicactus]

Sub!Yandere Shigaraki x Reader WIP

Ngl this has been in the draft phase for a long time, but hopefully it will see the light of day as a complete work at some point lmao

Basic summary: Shiggy locked you up in a house (surprise) and your not very happy being removed from your daily life w/o warning (surprise). Shigaraki is pretty mellowed out in this one; more on the angsty emo teen side vs angry emo teen side 

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

“Stop,” you commanded him, your voice still raspy from yelling at the top of your lungs not that long ago. You had lifted your head with your eyes trained on him, like slits, watching his every muscle tense as he obeyed your command. He looked somewhat surprised, you noted, likely due to the fact that this was the first thing you had said to him at a somewhat normal volume in over a week. You watched him shift uncomfortably as he dug his hands into his pockets to avoid scratching at his neck, and nervously glanced around the room before finally settling his eyes on one of the few empty spots on the floor. 

“Um,” Shigaraki began as he attempted to carry a conversation with you..

“You have some nerve trying to talk to me after everything you’ve done.” you cut him off barely above a whisper. Shigaraki closed his eyes and winced. He took a few deep breaths before slowly opening his eyes and moving them towards your face.

“I know..I know, I’m so sorry, I-” the heated look in your eyes told him to shut up.

“If you’re really sorry then…”. You didn’t have to continue your sentence for him to catch your meaning. He’d heard it from you at least 10 times a day, and was familiar with hearing it at night in his dreams (or nightmares). At this point, it was practically an inside greeting between the two of you; Shigaraki apologizes for locking you up in some random house and you order him to let you leave...

SMUT SNIPPET BELOW CUT

By now you’ve noticed that your ministrations have started to affect him in a not so innocent way, confirming a few theories that you’ve had based on how he’s reacted to certain behaviors in the past. The way he would go completely red after you casually joked about running your hands through his wild hair, or the way his eyes would briefly flash a heated look after you teasingly called him a cute nickname. You try to contain a tiny smirk, still having some sense of awareness to hold you back. Given the overall seriousness of the situation, enjoying yourself like this seems highly inappropriate and a bit messed up even but, those are thoughts to file away for later. 

You turn your attention back to the shaking boy kneeling next to your bed. It seems like he’s attempting to stifle his noises and contain his reactions, but he’s not doing the best job. Quiet whines and squeaks are managing to slip through, and it looks like he’s trying to rock his hips into the side of the bed. This time, you let yourself grin a bit sadistically and tug on his ear. Shigaraki attempts (and fails) to shove his face further into the mattress before anything else slips out, but an obscene moan still reaches your ears despite his efforts. You think to yourself a bit and decide to move your hand back towards the top of his head and lightly pet him for a few seconds, before grabbing a small handful of hair and tugging his head back, a bit more harshly than you did on his ear. 

This time, there’s nothing blocking his face to help stifle his noises and he involuntarily lets out the most pornographic noise you’ve heard from him yet. You let your eyes focus on his expression. His face is burning red, eyes glassy and unfocused, and there's a thick trail of drool running down the side of his chin, no doubt having left a wet spot on the side of the mattress. You glance down towards his lap. As expected, there’s a prominent bulge emerging from his pants, with the tip showing a clear dark spot. You use the leverage you have on Shigaraki’s hand to pull his face closer to yours, unintentionally prompting another whine to slip out.

[hibicactus]

Omg I swear that you are appearing on all of the blogs I frequent lately with your big brain (just saw you on sinful yandere after catching you on a few other blogs). That being said, since you tend to run in similar circles to me apparently, do you have any good blog suggestions? I need more to follow. ~Naomi

akdsfjghkjgf ALAS I do enjoy tumblr mostly for the discovery through my delicious mutuals reblogging The Good Fic and I don't actually follow that many people. BUT!! i do have reccs!

There's one or two that I follow who aren't super active in the om! scene anymore:

@yandere-daydreams in particular I commissioned once; she's an absolutely amazing writer and writes a TON, too. She goes hard on the horror/dark part of it, and is mostly into genshin rn, but her original works are super enjoyable too!

And @sugarfairychan who is not into om! at all, and in fact writes more for bnha; I found them through their REALLY AMAZING original yandere ideas. They're pretty much on the opposite side of the spectrum compared to what daydreams writes sdkfglhfg

Here are the ones who are relatively active that I know of:

@mimi-the-lucifer-stan I haven't gotten around to yelling at, but they have a really amazing yandere!Diavolo/Reader series going on right now! The last three chapters in particular have been absolutely POPPIN.

@undead-merman I cannot for the life of me remember if you know this one already but these guys are absolutely awesome!! Lots of monsterfucking and the yandere is just the right mix of romance and monsters-not-conforming-to-human-values for me,,, <3

@demon-fucking-therapist is an awesome writer and a great friend; they're writing a yandere!demons series with a dom!reader, so on the lighter side, but I super super enjoy it~

@house-of-laminations is another friend who has started to have more time for tumblr recently! Their stuff is more darkfic than yandere, but they're still into the juicy monster headcanons and ideas (this is their sfw blog, though, you can be horny at them on @purgatory-ho where they write DELICIOUS stuff!!!)

For non-yandere works, I can't recommend @demonfamilytherapist enough,,, demon-fucking-therapist is her main blog skdfghflhg.

@obeythebutler you probably already know but they are absolutely fantastic and write some PHEONOMENAL angst, fluff, all sorts of character interactions

@inhuman-obey-me also writes some really great stuff! Particularly in the Demons Being Demons/Horror/Lore of Devildom department!

Those are all the big ones I can think of that I follow, who also post relatively frequently!! I am sorry if I annoyed any of those ppl with tags, I don't interact with tumblr tagging very much at all,,, the links may 100% be broken or whatever anyways XD

I always have fic recs at the reader - and also I have @librarytt which is where I've reblogged works I really like from some blogs that are now inactive (it was mostly to keep an archive of reblogs to myself, so I didn't have to search through my own works to find fics to re-read).

[hibicactus]

Might be time to start writing again hmmmm