the Devildom's resident moss-lover

This was perfect. You had been planning a surprise for Asmo, and all you needed was for him to leave you alone in his room for a few minutes.

However, before you could implement your surprise, you needed to return to your room and slip into something a little more seductive – well, truthfully, you didn’t need to, but you knew Asmo would appreciate the extra details. You grabbed the bouquet you had prepared, too. On your way back to Asmo’s room, you sneaked through the House of Lamentation to ensure that no one else saw you in your risque outfit.

You could hear Asmo singing through the bathroom door when you returned. Still plenty of time, you thought. There was no need to waste your magic, so you waited for Asmo’s silence. He always stopped singing when he got out of the bath – even if just for a second, like silence was sacred at the threshold of his bath. It was an odd little quirk, but you never questioned it. It’s easy to not question someone you love so dearly.

Sitting with the bouquet in your arms, you wondered if the flowers might rub their scent off on you – if Asmo might prefer the familiar scent of your soap to the flowers or if it might be exciting for him to smell something new on you. Either way, you knew a man of all pleasurable senses would enjoy your surprise. After all, he found spontaneity and trying something new quite arousing.

Your musings were interrupted when you heard the sound water sloshing in the tub. Then, there was silence. It was time.

As he slipped into his robe, you recited a spell under your breath. The floor blossomed into a field of red sweet peas, a beautiful illusion that carried the scent of the real thing. It hit Asmo’s senses all at once the second he opened the bathroom door: the beautiful flowers all over his room, their sweet smell, and the sight of you – more beautifully – standing by his bed with a bouquet of the same flowers that filled his room.

Asmo reached out to touch one of the illusion flowers, only for his fingertips to pass through them. He giggled. “What’s all this for, gorgeous?”

“Pay back,” you teased with a smirk.

“For~?” Asmo approached you and ran his finger over your cheek as if checking that you, too, were not an illusion.

“I owed you some flowers.” You stole a quick kiss from Asmo, and he smiled at it instantly.

“Such a sweetie,” Asmo cooed and took the bouquet from your hands. “And what do red sweet peas mean?”

“Who said they mean anything, sweet pea?” you teased.

Asmo leaned in for another kiss – this one slower and more sensual than yours. When he pulled away, there was a heated confidence about him. “Because I know you.”

You laughed and dropped your head slightly in defeat. You could hardly resist Asmo’s charm.

“You do,” you agreed. “The signify blissful pleasure, desire, fervor, and a tender, delicate love.”

Asmo pouted slightly. His adorable pink lower lip pushing forward, begging to be bitten and sucked. Even his eyes held a soft tenderness that melted you.

“What, baby?” you asked.

“Are you trying to make me love you even more?” Asmo spoke just above a whisper.

“Always.”

Asmo couldn’t take it anymore. He set the bouquet on his vanity and turned back to you. Before you could anticipate his actions, Asmo had pushed you on his bed and was kissing you slowly, purrs and moans escaping his mouth as his desire was unleashed on you. You couldn’t remember the last time Asmo had kissed you without lip gloss on, and somehow the taste of his lips was more intoxicating than any flavor he could wear.

Kiss after kiss, you were left breathless, and at every chance you had to fill your lungs, the delicate aroma of sweet peas entered your senses like a spell. Asmo and sweet peas were the only thing you could process as his hand began to explore your body: down your chest, over your stomach, between your thighs. Each caress of his hands was a warm reminder of his desire for you. You were everything he could have asked for in that moment, and he was ready to indulge for hours if you’d let him.

“I love you,” Asmo whispered, moving his attention to your neck.

You had no time to respond, as the second your mouth opened, Asmo’s pretty fingers were in your mouth, and you found yourself sucking on them eagerly, your oral fixation taking over. He was going to take his time thanking you for such a lovely surprise, and when you were done, Asmo was going to have your mind and body stained by him.

He may not have gotten the perfect start to the rainy season with you, but you were determined to do something nice for Belphie and cheer him up.

The bedding in the attic was cleaned and in the dryer by the time Belphie shuffled into the house, shoes muddy and hair wet – damn near all of him was damp. He had forgone the umbrella out of spite for his situation and moped his way home.

Belphie wouldn’t admit it, but the sight of your face, rushing down the stairs to greet him, nearly made him cry. Why he felt so emotional today was unclear, but he knew he needed you more than usual.

“Welcome back.” You smiled at him, and took his hand, waiting for him to slip out of his muddy shoes so he could follow you into the shower.

Although you had already washed up, a second time wouldn’t hurt – especially if it meant you could pamper Belphie. You grabbed his clothes, which you had folded prior to his arrival, and ushered him into the bathroom. Glancing around to ensure that no one would see, you snuck into the bathroom with him.

The water warmed Belphegor’s rain-cooled skin, and your touch made his face burn. The white noise of the shower and the rain on the windowpane hushed the negative thoughts in his head until all he could think about was you and him – naked – together. As you rinsed his hair, he made your task more difficult by leaning his head against your shoulder, conditioner and water dripping down onto your shoulder with a strange softness.

“Belphie? What is it?”

“I don’t know,” he sighed into the crook of your neck.

“That’s okay.” You brought your hand up to massage his half-rinsed scalp, and he let the water run down his back for a minute.

“Thank you.” The words fell from his lips like they were the only ones that filled his mind. This was the mind-numbing peace he needed, and it was all because of you.

Miraculously, you and Belphegor managed to escape into the attic with the bedding without running into any of his brothers. This time, it was Belphie who took your hand and led you upstairs. He had the patience to help you put the fresh sheets on before he grabbed you, collapsed onto the bed, and pulled you on top of him, loving every bit of your weight pressing him deeper into the mattress.

“Belphie,” you mumbled against his shirt, feeling his arms tight around you. It came out like a partial complaint – not because you objected the position, but because you still had one more thing you wanted to do for him.

You struggled to push yourself up until you were straddling Belphie with your hands on either side of him. A blush and a pout painted his face simultaneously, and you held back the urge to kiss him over and over again until the pout disappeared.

“Close your eyes,” you whispered.

In anticipation of a kiss, Belphie shut his eyes without protest. But your lips didn’t come. Instead, a familiar scent filled the room – not quite like the neediness-inducing scent of hell jasmine, but something incredibly similar – almost more human.

Finally, your lips met his in a soft, seductive kiss. As you pulled away, you praised him, “good boy.”

Belphie opened his eyes to the bed floating among a sea of pink jasmine that spanned the entire attic. He recognized the flower on sight, and all his knowledge on the human world flower filtered back into his mind. His cheeks flushed.

“Hey,” he whispered in a voice that sounded more like a whimper, “are you trying to turn me on? I’ve heard that jasmine is used as an aphrodisiac. Was that your plan – to make me want you?”

You chuckled, “not entirely. Jasmine can be used as a sedative and sleep aid – not just an aphrodisiac.”

“But pink jasmine symbolizes seduction, sensuality, desire, and enchantment,” Belphegor interrupted.

“How do you know that?” His knowledge flustered you slightly.

“I peeked at your studies. Now, I’ll ask again,” Belphie softened his tone and stared up at you with wanting eyes, “are you trying to seduce me?”

“What if I am?”

Belphegor moved quicker than usual to flip you on your back so that he was staring down at you. “It’s working.”

Belphie kissed you slowly, lazily tasting you. The sweetest content noises left his mouth; kissing you was such a turn on that he was already aching for you.

Rain pounded on the roof of the House of Lamentation, and you could only hope it was enough to drown out the noises of you and Belphegor in the attic, loving the hours away amidst the smell of pink jasmine.

“Did you say something about cats?” Satan popped his head into the common room on his way from the library.

“Catwalk, ya nosy–” Mammon started.

“Never mind. Not interested.” Satan shrugged and continued on his way but quickly turned around and added, “Wait. Who’s going to be on the catwalk?”

“The Great Mammon, of course.”

“Yeah, definitely not interested.” Satan disappeared down the hall.

You could tell Mammon was annoyed, so you jumped in, “well, I am interested.”

“’Course ya are. I’ll send ya the details. I’d offer to walk ya there, but they’re havin’ me come in a few hours before the show. But all this work’s gonna be worth it.” Mammon pulled out his D.D.D. and forwarded you the time and location. When he looked up at you from his phone, he had a frown on his face. “Man, I’d love to hang out a while longer, but I gotta go to a rehearsal soon. Don’t lose that pass, got it?”

“I’ll keep it safe.” You smiled.

“Ya better.” Mammon stood up and ruffled your hair aggressively – as if you were too cute for him to be gentle with.

The thought of going to Mammon’s gig without some kind of present felt off – not wrong, necessarily, but you knew you’d be missing an opportunity to make him feel loved. You couldn’t bear the thought of it. So, you made a stop at a particularly friendly demon’s shop.

“Stolas,” you called out as you entered the flower shop. A gentle chirp from above brought your attention to the demon, standing atop a shelf with a watering can.

“Oh, so the sweet little human has learned my name,” he grinned wickedly – flirtatiously if flirting involved a degree of danger. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence today?”

Stolas hopped down from the shelf and landed gracefully in front of you. He looked so much taller without the counter separating you.

“Do you have any scorching sunflowers?”

“Afraid not. My next delivery isn’t until next week, and I don’t grow them here – too much of a hassle. Can I interest you in something else?”

“Oh.” You immediately looked disappointed, which threw Stolas off.

He scrambled for a solution, “I can save some for you when the delivery comes. Or I can get you something else. I have dozens of gorgeous flowers, and some have a similar warming effect if you need it for a spell.”

“No, that’s okay – it’s just – how much do you know about human world flowers?”

“A good deal more than you, I’d assume. Missing the flora of your realm?”

“I need something similar to a human world sunflower to do the transfiguration spell. I really wanted to give sunflowers to someone close to me today,” you admitted.

Stolas sighed, “is that all? Come with me to the green room.”

He walked towards the room near the back of the shop. You followed, only slightly cautious of him. When he reached the door, he held it open for you. Even without stepping in the room, the scent of greenery was particularly strong. A fountain could be heard and you could see plants filling the room from ceiling to floor. As you entered, it was a beautiful sanctuary for life – as if the walls of the room encouraged growth and abundance.

“Now, I wouldn’t normally do this, but there is a way to create the flowers you desire without a Devildom equivalent. It’s more advanced, and I may need to borrow some of your magic to do it.”

Stolas instructed you to grab a petal the same color you wanted the sunflowers to be – a vibrant golden yellow – and bury it in the magic pot he placed on the workbench. You both placed your hands on the pot as Stolas whispered ancient incantations. You felt your magic being drained from your hands, but before long, sunflowers sprouted up from the pot – nearly two dozen of them. Stolas trimmed them and wrapped them up for you. As you took your wallet out to pay, his hand gently pressed over yours.

“I can’t sell flowers made purely from magic to you. You can have them,” Stolas smiled weakly.

“Surely I can repay you somehow, right?”

A number of ideas bloomed in his mind, but he settled on this instead: “Bring me some flowers sometime and we’ll call it even.”

You nodded and held the sunflowers close to your chest. With that, you headed to Mammon’s show.

Mammon was such a handsome demon, especially when he was in his element. They put him in some flashy numbers that complemented his vibrant white hair and beautifully hued skin. You could tell that the stylist hadn’t wanted just any demon; they wanted him to be their model, and it showed. As focused as he was, Mammon spotted you in the crowd – right where he left your name card on the chair – and gave you a wink. He was a crowd favorite, and you were so proud of him.

When the show concluded, you pulled the bouquet out from under your chair. They still look beautiful, you sighed in relief. Mammon was impatiently waiting for you backstage, scanning every face that entered with a pass until a smile glowed on his lips.

“Hey~ There’s my human,” Mammon shouted at you the second you stepped through the door. You tucked the bouquet behind your back. “What’d ya think of the Great Mammon? Devilishly handsome, ay?”

“Cool as ever, Mammon! You looked amazing out there.” You grinned and pulled the sunflowers out as you spoke, “I got these for you to congratulate you on a job well done.”

Mammon’s cool grin dropped as he felt his face burn. He took the flowers from your hands, “Ya got me sunflowers? These don’t look like scorching sunflowers, but my skin feels warm. Did ya enchant these?”

“No, silly. Although, a little magic was involved. Do you like them?”

“Hell yeah! What made ya think to get me these?” Mammon admired their beautiful golden hues as he asked. No one had ever given him sunflowers before.

“I learned that sunflowers symbolize loyalty; they represent enduring bonds and commitments and can be given for happy relationships based on truth and longevity. How could I not think of you when I read that. You’re faithful, we adore each other, and you always brighten my mood. They’re perfect for you.”

Mammon’s eyes felt misty, and he blinked away the threatening tears with a smile. He pulled you into a tight hug. He was so warm.

“’Course ya’d choose sunflowers for the Great Mammon! After all, you’re the main source of light in my life, and I’ll always turn to face ya, sunshine.” Your heart melted.

Lucifer | Leviathan | Satan | Asmodeus | Beelzebub | Belphegor | the others

As usual, Asmo was a wonderful host, preparing games, activities, and an abundance of snacks – although the latter was planned, in part, to dissuade Solomon from attempting to cook. If Solomon had brought homemade food, that would have ruined the entire night.

With a long night ahead of you, Asmo sipped his Demonus slowly, fearing intoxication; there would be other nights to get drunk around either of you, but tonight, he wanted to feel in control of everything – to savor every word, look, and sensation that he eagerly anticipated. Asmo wanted to remember the way Solomon’s eyes darted between his body and yours as the two of you danced to music he had put on – the way his gaze felt hungry like some vicious predator in that moment and how Solomon had smothered his desire as the song came to an end, trying not to initiate something so early in the night. He wanted to fully enjoy the warmth of your lips on his neck when you lost the card game that Solomon insisted be made a little more interesting by turning it into a punishment game – no doubt hoping luck would be on his side tonight, especially with Barbatos not in attendance. You were all too happy to agree to Asmo’s – slightly restrained – punishment. All he wanted was for you to leave a hickey on him in a place where everyone would see it. Out of all the things Asmo could have asked for, that almost seemed innocent. Asmo wanted to engrave the praise you and Solomon gave him when he put on an impromptu fashion show. Your words were honey-sweet, pooling on your tongues so enticingly that he could hardly resist kissing both of you and tasting the words in his mouth.

Later in the night, Asmo stretched, letting out a soft little moan, and got up. “I was thinking – maybe we could all take a nice long bath together, hmm~? My bath is big enough for all of us. What do you think?”

Solomon scoffed and shook his head, seeing right through Asmo’s offer. “No thanks. You just want to get us both naked.”

“Well, of course, hun. Can’t blame a demon for trying, can you~?” Asmo winked. “What about you, MC?”

“You’re really going to leave me all alone in your room? That’s hardly good hosting etiquette.” Solomon cocked his head to the side, as if it was a veiled threat. “Besides, if you two bathe alone together, who knows how long you’ll be in there.”

“Ugh, Solomon! You’re such a meanie!” Asmo huffed. “You won’t let me get a good look at that body of yours, and now you want to keep MC all to yourself.”

“By all means,” Solomon shrugged, “leave me to my own devices – unsupervised in your room. Or maybe I’ll go prepare a snack while you two add unnecessary steps to getting clean.”

“I wouldn’t dream of leaving you alone, Solomon!” you interjected quickly. He knew his cooking was universally considered a weapon, didn’t he? You’d never put it in such harsh words – but he had to understand that, right? “Besides, you’ll only get into trouble if you’re on your own for too long.”

Asmo caught your eyes, silently thanking you for sparing him – and everyone else in the House of Lamentation for that matter. “Anyway~ I’ll be back. Behave, you two.”

As Asmo made a hasty escape, Solomon smirked at you. “You don’t really think I’m so troublesome that I can’t be left alone, do you?”

It was clear to him that you had lied; after all, he knew his adorable apprentice inside and out. There was little that you could hide from him, but his self-confidence and desire wiped Solomon’s memory of his threat of extra-strength food poisoning; the only reason you wanted to stay with him that remained was because you were hoping for some alone time together. Solomon got up from Asmo’s hanging chair and walked over to you.

“Are you not troublesome?” you teased, inching over on the edge of the bed so Solomon could sit next to you.

Solomon chuckled, shook his head, and put one knee up on the bed next to your thigh. “Would you like me to be?”

“Meaning?” You gave Solomon a confused look, but as he straddled your lap and extended his arms behind your head, you knew exactly what he meant. Your eyes unintentionally darted towards Asmo’s bathroom door, worried that he would suddenly return.

“Fool around with me,” Solomon got closer and whispered in your ear, bringing your attention back to him.

“I don’t know, Sol.” It seemed mean to Asmo: making out – or more – with someone else in his bed while he was busy, especially on an Asmo night. If he walked in, saw that, and realized he wasn’t included, you thought, “Asmo might get pouty.”

Solomon’s low, gentle laugh rang in your ear before he began to kiss down your neck. “He’ll like it, trust me.”

Each kiss was slow and deliberate, aiming to leave his mark on you. Perhaps Solomon needed a way to remedy his jealousy from when you gave Asmo a hickey earlier – or perhaps he was simply overcome by his underlying desire to mark you as his own. Either way, Solomon continued to suck and nip down your skin until he was satisfied with his work. His hot breath, saliva, and the sweet moans that escaped his lips as he squirmed in your lap sent shivers up your spine. By the time he pulled away, your heart was racing.

“Oh!” Solomon grinned, took his wand out from his back pocket, and gave it a quick wave. You furrowed your brows; Solomon replaced his wand just as quickly as he had pulled it out. He brought his finger up to his lips and whispered, “had to cast a secret spell.”

“And you wonder why people think you’re shady? What did you do?” you laughed.

“I cast a spell to warm up Asmo’s towels for when he’s done with his bath.” Your heart melted immediately – only to feel jolted as Solomon added, “now, where were we?”

Solomon took advantage of the quickly-fading charm of his sweetness to push you on your back with a grin on his face. He leaned down close but hesitated slightly – waiting for any sign of resistance. “Please” formed silently on his lips, grazing yours in a chaste kiss, touching you lightly like a devotee may trace the outlines of an altar. You were sacred to Solomon; in all his years, he had never met another creature he regarded as so holy. No demon nor angel could have his worship like this. Every prayer that fell from Solomon’s lips was an act of love and devotion. Across all three realms, only you had given Solomon something worthy of divine adoration.

He could only hope that his reverence would translate, transcribed on your hallowed body with his lips and tongue. Solomon’s kisses grew deeper and more desperate, as if he was starved of your affection and intended to gorge himself on whatever love you offered. Nothing could come between him and his communion – not even the demon standing in the doorframe to the bathroom.

Kisses trailed down your neck as Solomon’s hand made its way under the hem of your shirt, teasing your bare skin with his fingertips. When he had buried himself in the crook of your neck, you could tell from his eagerness and attention to one particular area that he intended to mark you. Your brows knit together, but the ecstasy of Solomon’s lips was interrupted by the gentle biting feeling of someone else’s eyes on you, so you turned your gaze to the bathroom door.

Asmo’s eyes were half-lidded, and a seductive smirk sat on his face when he finally caught your eye. He held your gaze intently, as if determined to pull your attention away from Solomon for as long as he could. Only when Solomon panted hotly against your neck and softly, slowly dragged his nails along your stomach so lightly that your skin was as unaffected as a brilliant sapphire brushed over by a raven’s feather, causing you to shiver and gasp, did Asmo feel a compelling tinge of jealousy. His smile dropped, briefly slipping into a pout, before he resolved himself and strutted towards the two precious humans playing around in his bed.

Solomon felt Asmo’s presence, but he refused to acknowledge him until Asmo ran a lovely hand up Solomon’s back with an amused hum. “Just how far were you planning to go in my bed?”

“As far as I could,” Solomon admitted with a chuckle, sitting up and pressing his back against Asmo’s hand. “Problem?”

“May~be~” Asmo sang sweetly. “Depends on whose cute little idea this was. MC?”

“Solomon said you’d like it,” you blurted out under the scrutiny of Asmo’s honey-sweet tone. Solomon feigned offense and got off you so he could get a better look at Asmo, who was standing in a lovely pink silk robe decorated with red spider lilies and blood spatter, along with a matching bonnet.

“Betraying your own teacher?” Asmo hummed. “That’s my MC.”

“Yours?” Solomon scoffed and playfully added, “that mark on their neck isn’t your handiwork.”

You could feel the tension building in the room as Asmo’s affectionate stare turned from you towards Solomon with an inhuman wickedness – devious and sexy in a way that caused Solomon to shiver excitedly. Asmo cooed, “oh, poor Solomon. An appetizer sits in the stomach all the same, doesn’t it? I think MC’s had their fill of you, darling. I’m so gorgeous, I’m obviously the main course and dessert; isn’t that right, MC?”

The sense that Solomon and Asmo were trying to stake their claim on you was muddied by the seductive overtones and lustful stares they offered each other. Solomon was about to sit up and pull Asmo into a forceful, dominating kiss when Asmo snapped his fingers. The vines of roses that adorned Asmo’s bed shot out and quickly restrained Solomon, pulling him back towards the headboard.

At first, Solomon chuckled and weakly tugged against the vines, putting on a show of struggling. When he did, he felt the vines wind around him more – stronger than before. Solomon looked surprised and tried a low-level unbinding spell to loosen the restraints, but it only backfired. The vines moved further up his arms, and one slipped around his waist. Solomon could feel faint traces of his own magic imbued in the vines now, causing the roses to glow a soft pink. Panic flashed in his eyes briefly as he realized what Asmo had done, but it dissolved into amusement and arousal.

“Lucifer has some very interesting books on how to deal with powerful sorcerers,” Asmo giggled at Solomon. “You can struggle, but that will only make it worse. Only the caster can undo the spell.”

“Asmo!” You sat up in protest. That seemed a bit excessive. However, your concern for Solomon melted when he met your eyes with a soft smile.

“It’s fine,” he reassured you.

“Besides,” Asmo interjected, gently turning your head back to face him, “if he was against it, he’d use his pact on me and be free right away. Trust me.”

You did; you trusted them both, and so when Asmo slowly pushed you back down on the bed, you let him. His charm didn’t work on you the way it did with others, but it was so easy to allow yourself to slip under Asmo’s seductive spell. He was so lovely as he pushed your shirt up and slowly kissed down your stomach, brushing his lips over the places Solomon’s fingers had dared to touch. Solomon may have tried to claim you first tonight, but Asmo was determined to overwrite every bit of Solomon’s seduction until the only man you could think of was him; he was the Avatar of Lust, after all. Asmo was programmed to make you come undone at his hands.

Every kiss and puff of air that left Asmo made you tremble and shiver until your hand found his bedsheets and bunched the soft threads against your palm. He heard your movements and giggled, lifting his head slightly and staring up at you seductively. Your body continued to shake under his gaze despite the momentary relief from the pleasure of his lips on your skin. He sat up, removed his bonnet, and chucked it to the floor. Asmo gently loosened your tight grip around his sheets and held your hand briefly before bringing it up to his lips, leaving a lingering, sensual kiss on the tops of your fingers. Slowly, Asmo moved your hand up to his slightly damp hair and guided your hand into a ball until you were gripping it. “Be as rough or as gentle as you need.”

Asmo lowered himself back down to your body until his hair tickled your bare skin, leaving small pools of water where his hair touched you or where droplets fell. The cool sensation of drying water was juxtaposed with Asmo’s hot mouth as his kisses got slower, sloppier, and sexier. He kissed you like he was devouring a dessert with all the lewd sexiness of an adult streamer. The intimacy of it felt overwhelming. Each motion was a clear sign of affectionate dedication. Asmodeus, Avatar of Lust, would go to war for your pleasure and make all forms of perverse, depraved, and beautiful love for your safety. His entire world was you and Solomon in his bed right now, and nothing short of the catastrophic end of all three realms would dare interrupt his blissful peace.

His delicate and thoughtful touches convinced you that Asmo had every intention of unraveling you with his mouth. Even Solomon could sense it as he watched on in amusement. You began to feel self-conscious and needy. Choosing to attempt a diversion, you whined and squirmed away from Asmo’s touch, but he only followed your movements with intensified desire. He knew you were loving this, and if you wanted to pause, you’d have to muster up all your strength and use your words. Whimpering his name, you interrupted his ceremonious flood of devotion. “Asmo, please, wait. I should be spoiling you.”

“Nonsense,” Asmo chuckled, licking a long stripe up your stomach before continuing, “letting me turn you on is spoiling me.”

 Asmo pecked your lips lovingly, staring at you with overflowing adoration as he pulled away. It was almost unbearable. He pulled at every defense, like loosening the soft, satin ribbon of a corset, determined to undo your strength and set you at ease. With a heated smirk, Asmo looked up at you from between your thighs. Your clothes were disheveled – pants pulled unevenly around your hips, shirt pushed up to your chest, underwear peeking out over your pants, yet still exposing part of your ass. The only way you could look sexier, Asmo thought, was if he could get you out of those clothes, but he was far too eager and would settle for getting you out of your underwear.

Maintaining eye contact, Asmo slid your pants further down, and you lifted your legs to help him. They were tossed across the room as far as Asmo could manage while he was still fixated on you. He bent down to kiss your bare thigh, tickling you with his breath as he giggled. Mischievous as ever, Asmo quickly swiped his tongue over the wet spot on your underwear. The whimper he pulled from your lips delighted his ears.

“I love you,” Asmo whispered, leaning down to kiss your inner thigh once more. The tenderness in his voice melted your thoughts and stalled your tongue so that his declaration went unanswered – not that Asmo needed a reply when he pulled back and looked at you splayed beneath him. If this was not an act of love between you, then love must be more myth than reality.

Your underwear was discarded on the bed next to Solomon’s thigh – Asmo’s subtle attempt to tease him: leaving your damp underwear in his line of sight, just out of reach. Solomon tugged against his restraints with an annoyed sigh only for the vines to snap right back into place.

In a gentle display of strength, Asmo lifted you and repositioned your body so that you were laying with your head at the foot of the bed. On his knees, he looked down at you again. If only you were wearing my shirt, too, he thought. When Asmo bent down to kiss your inner thighs, Solomon was graced with the sight of Asmo’s gorgeous ass – a show that Asmo was well aware he was putting on, evidenced by the subtle roll of his hips as he moaned against your skin. If he wasn’t doing it on purpose, then he was too sexual for his own good.

The feeling of soft lips, hot breath, and vibrating moans melted every thought in your mind, and just seconds before a plea for more escaped your lips, Asmo pulled away. You whimpered, making an almost pathetic sound. Asmo giggled, thrilled by your cute desperation. “Ready for more, luv?”

“Mhmm.” You looked down at him, catching his burning gaze. He was loving this. In your periphery, you caught a glimpse of Solomon staring at you just as intensely. His cheeks flushed bright pink from the sound of your voice alone, but even the obscured sight of you on your back, waiting for Asmo’s next move so eagerly and obediently, had him throbbing in his pants.

“Good,” Asmo sighed in relief. “I can’t wait anymore.”

Asmo sunk down further than before, kissing you quickly before giving you a gentle lick. You gasped, and he rewarded you by sticking out his tongue, wet with saliva, and leaving it against you for a few seconds as he giggled, allowing you to simply feel the warm slick of his mouth.

Lust – as a pure essence – seeped from Asmo’s tongue. How else could you explain the aphrodisiacal effects he had on your body? It appeared effortless for him to leave you squirming and rolling your hips up against his mouth. Those lovely lips made a mess of you. Loud, needy moans that humiliated all who heard them served as proof of the sexual expertise of the demon between your legs. Your mind clouded. Your breath shortened. Your head lolled back.

You were being so perfect and pretty for Asmo that he couldn’t hold his own need back. His hips lowered just enough so he could leisurely grind against his bed, compounding his pleasure as he continued to taste and tease you. Asmo’s own moans reverberated against you and played as a beautiful accompaniment to your own that drove Solomon wild. Sexually intoxicating you was Asmo’s sole focus – entirely undisturbed until a soft groan from Solomon caught his ear – the sort that indicated a shameful degree of frustration that only made Asmo pull away from you slightly with a giggle. You whined.

“Poor thing,” Asmo cooed quietly, and, for a second, you weren’t sure whether he was talking about you or Solomon. “Should we give Solomon a bit of attention, too, MC?”

As much as you wanted Asmo to keep going, the opportunity to expand your circle of unearthly pleasure excited you – and you knew Asmo would never leave you unsatisfied. Head still hazy, you offered a slow nod as you shakily sat up. Asmo saw your unsteadiness and rose to meet you; a stabilizing hand found the back of your neck as he leaned in to kiss you affectionately. Your taste lingered on his tongue, shared with you through a deepening kiss that was cut cruelly short, the ache of which was only soothed by the adoration in Asmo’s eyes as he stared back at your bliss-stained face.

“My love is too beautiful.” Asmo cupped your cheek and ran his thumb along your lips before prompting your mouth open with it, “and so good, too.”

You bit down on him gently, earning a delighted laugh.

“Fuck,” Solomon sighed, growing impatient and eager for attention. The sight of you and Asmo flirting and being romantic was riling him up, stirring up this dark, predatory aura that dimmed the glow of the roses from a soft pink to a mysterious lavender. Even in the lowered lights, you saw his need and desperation cleanly – compressed and carefully restrained, ready to be made a mess of.

“My poor master,” Asmo giggled teasingly, turning and crawling over to Solomon, leisurely and wordlessly requiring for the release of his thumb – as if he was reluctant to let the appendage leave your mouth without proper attention. Perhaps another time, but at this moment, Solomon’s body called to him. Asmo leaned down, getting a closer look at the twitching tent in Solomon’s pants and running a single finger up it. “Should I give you a hand?”

“Just a hand?” Solomon scoffed. All that teasing and waiting, and the only thing you’ll give me is a hand, Solomon thought, pretty little brat.

“Trust me,” Asmo spoke sweetly enough to appease the great sorcerer, “you’ll like it.”

You and Solomon watched on in anticipation as Asmo undid Solomon’s pants and slid them slowly down his hips. To your surprise, Solomon’s cock sprang up.

“You naughty boy~” Asmo teased, “no underwear~? You weren’t expecting this, were you?”

“You really are a slutty old man,” you chuckled and approached him. Before Solomon could protest, you caught his lips in a heated kiss so intense that his embarrassment leaked from the tip of his cock. Asmo used it to lube up his hand in slow, circular motions around the head before he started stroking Solomon in equally slow motions. A rumbling sigh fed you and died in the back of your throat as Solomon eagerly accepted your kiss. That deep, debauched sound contrasted with the soft, submissive whimper that left his lips as you pulled away and attempted to cling to you.

“Grind on my ass, MC,” Asmo instructed, interrupting your kiss-induced haze.

“What?” you asked, playfully amused.

“Hump me, silly,” Asmo giggled and shook his ass for you slightly – still focusing on pleasuring Solomon. “Let me make you both feel good.”

You pet Asmo’s head gently before you positioned yourself behind him. With a firm grip, you pulled him flush against your hips and started to grind against his soft ass, earning an aroused “oh.” Solomon’s eyes met yours, and despite being bound by vines, he smirked at you, as if he could read your mind. Maybe it was the eroticism of the situation, but as you rolled your hips into Asmo’s, all you could think was fuck, this shouldn’t feel so good. Or maybe Solomon knew what you were thinking because the same thought crossed his mind.

“Do my soft, pretty hands feel good, master~?” Asmo asked, looking up a Solomon with the loveliest eyes – a look that unfortunately went ignored as Solomon watched your face contort in pleasure. Asmo’s only response was Solomon’s desperate attempt to thrust his hips up into Asmo’s hand at the same pace as you were humping his ass; it said enough, and the demon was all melodic giggles.

Was it Asmo’s warm, soft skin, or Solomon’s burning gaze holding you, or the moans of both men that filled the room? Maybe Asmo was using a spell on you? Something intensified the pleasure, and before you could figure out what was getting you so worked up, you were cumming against Asmo’s ass.

Asmo could feel you pulsing as your grinding slowed but refused to stop; a part of you still wanted more – couldn’t bear to separate your body from his. Asmo took advantage of Solomon’s evident excitement at getting to watch you cum and sped up his movements, pulling more lewd noises from Solomon.

“Fuck, please?” Solomon whined mindlessly, “I’m gonna cum.”

“I know~” Asmo cooed. “Be a good master and cum on my face, ‘kay?”

Solomon was so focused on biting back his moans that he couldn’t even manage a nod. Instead, he replied by following orders and spurting cum all over Asmo’s pretty face. Asmo looked up at Solomon; that lovely face that he had made a mess of made Solomon’s cock twitch. Asmo leaned in to kiss Solomon and stretched his arm over to the nightstand, grabbing his D.D.D. and opening the camera app. He pulled away with a seductive smile, turned, and handed you the device.

“Take a flattering picture, luv,” Asmo grinned. He wasn’t going to upload this moment; some things were too intimate to share – but not so intimate that proof of it should stay confined in memories. You snapped a few pictures – some lovelier than others, but one in particular caught your attention as you scrolled back. You showed it to Asmo for his nod of approval. He took his phone from your hand and gently tossed it on the bed so he could caress your face with both hands. “Beautiful.”

You weren’t sure if he meant you or the photo – or maybe you were, but you were too embarrassed to admit that the Avatar of Lust looked at a photo of himself and still turned to you in admiration, in worship. Yet, you, like a disciple, leaned in and began to clean his face with your tongue. Asmo was giddy at your touch, but with each slow trail your tongue traced, fervent arousal grew in him. Even Solomon, confined to watching, felt himself getting hard once more. He was enamored – so much so that he waited until you had cleaned every drop of cum off Asmo’s face before he dared interrupt by clearing his throat.

Asmo laughed and snapped his fingers, freeing Solomon from his binds.

Solomon chuckled, “you sure know how to show a few humans a good time.”

“It’s not over yet, is it?” You glanced down at Solomon’s crotch quickly.

“Of course not,” Solomon got to his knees and kissed Asmo’s forehead sweetly, placing his hand on the base of Asmo’s neck, as he stared at you lovingly, propositioning you. “Let’s give you a fun Asmo night.”

Once again, you weren’t sure who was at the receiving end, but you were certain night would bleed into morning. If the Devildom had a sun, your lovemaking would greet the sunrise in equal beauty.

Unfortunately for Satan, you had seen him sneak the book into the bottom of the pile before checking out. Curious, you did a bit of investigating using the title on the spine and quickly realized why Satan was so keen on hiding it from you. It was cute, in a way, and you wanted to reward that cuteness.

When Satan first opened the book, he felt a faint trace of magic. Seeing as the book was used, that didn’t seem too odd. Besides, whatever magic tainted this book seemed benign, so he ignored it and kept reading.

Satan gripped the book tightly in his hands. The chapter had ended with the human character finding the demon among ruins – remains of a city he had destroyed on a rampage after the duke residing there had suddenly declared war on humans. Would the human reject his violence or embrace him in his monstrous, destructive glory? Satan could feel the tension building up, and he was so excited that he couldn’t sense the magic in the book getting stronger as he turned to the next page.

As soon as he did, a blue anemone sprouted from the center of the book. Satan was startled, but upon closer examination, other than being a human realm flower, nothing else seemed off with the anemone. He set it aside and continued to read the chapter.

The human took in the devastating wreckage around the demon. Homes, shops, and even infrastructure had been demolished as if by an unholy earthquake. It was a tragedy. They imagined all the lives and happiness destroyed. Satan turned the page. Another anemone popped up.

Satan set it down with the other one and kept reading. Right at the center of the town square was a fountain which was once a glistening display of water that sparkled under the starlight. Now, the duke’s head was floating in the upper tier as water that ran red sprouted up next to him and came spilling onto his face – as if to waterboard what visibly remained of his corpse with his own blood. The demon called out to the human, using their name in a meek, pitiful voice. Their eyes met, and Satan turned the page.

Another fucking anemone? Satan put it next to the others with a low growl and read on. The human approached, and the demon fell to his knees on the verge of tears, searching for any sign of affection. He found it. The human caressed his cheek and dropped down to their knees right before him with no regard for the rubble underfoot that pressed into them uncomfortably. The demon tried to explain, only to be met with warm lips against his. Hoping to see them deepen their bond, Satan flipped to the next page eagerly.

“Motherfucker!” A fourth anemone grew up from the book. It was a small inconvenience, but Satan was annoyed. Things were getting good, but he stopped reading and began to simply flip through the pages. A blue anemone continued to appear each time until Satan had enough for a bouquet of two dozen. Then, they stopped. Instead of a flower, a cat-shaped note appeared. Satan was about to throw it away when he recognized your handwriting.

All his irritation and anger began to melt. The note said, “close your eyes.” Satan obeyed.

His obedience was rewarded with the soft sensation of your lips against his. Only you had the power to change Satan’s mood with such ease. He smiled into the kiss, suddenly delighted with your little prank that had been an annoyance just a minute ago. No one had ever given him flowers before – and certainly not human world flowers. When you pulled away, Satan bit his lip to prevent himself from pouting and whining. You could have kissed me a little longer after all that, he thought. However, he had more pressing words to speak.

“Why blue anemones?” Satan stared at you expectantly.

“It can’t just be because they’re pretty?” you asked.

“It could be – if it was anyone else giving me flowers.” Satan smiled, knowing he was correct. “So, what did I do to deserve these?”

“Okay, smarty-pants, you caught me. One of the meanings of a blue anemone is intelligence. That one should speak for itself.” You paused to take his face in your hands. “They also symbolize mutual trust and loyalty, love and respect, and anticipation. They are a promise of a brighter future; in sadness, they bring a sense of calm and peace, lift spirits, protect, and guide.”

Satan’s heart ached sweetly, and he met your eyes with an abundance of affection that overflowed in gentle tears running down his cheeks. You wiped them with your thumbs and placed a soft, chaste kiss on his lips.

“Are you a blue anemone as well, then?” Satan asked, almost innocently. “Because nothing is a bigger source of peace in my life than you. You are my love, and my loyalty is to you. Only you could lift my spirits like this. Only you could protect and guide me in the ways I’ve always dreamed of. Your very existence is a promise of a brighter future – so long as it involves you. So, I’ll ask again: are you a blue anemone?”

“Hush,” you chuckled and proceeded to leave kisses all over his face until his cheeks were flushed pink and the tears had dried. “You’re cute.”

“You hush too!” Satan pulled you onto his lap and buried himself in the crook of your neck. “Don’t tease me, but don’t leave my side either.”

You played with Satan’s hair and kissed the top of his head. “You can read your tragic human-demon romance book – just remember, I have no intention of letting us be a tragedy.”

“Me either,” Satan whispered against your skin. The tears threatened to spill from his eyes again, but he was too soothed by your touch to cry anymore.

Lucifer | Mammon | Leviathan | Asmodeus | Beelzebub | Belphegor | the others