#asmodeus x reader

“You humans are truly so adorable! It’s a miracle I managed to hold back from taking you then and there when you drank your milkshake.” His soft lips found your thighs where they trailed kisses up to your calf as he slipped your underwear off. “You don’t need this anytime soon” he said as he threw the baby pink garment over his shoulder.

Asmo groaned against your skin as he let his pants fall to the floor. He wasn’t wearing any underwear.

“I’m going to make you feel sooo good, sweetheart. Just you wait. No don’t cry, it’s alright” he giggled “Though I don’t mind your tears. They’re hot.” Orange eyes watched you with curiosity and desires as he parted your thighs further. Upon catching the sight of your bare cunt, the demon licked his lips. His pale cheeks were tinted pink from pure lust.

“I’ve never been one to use protection — it takes away the intimacy of the act — so please forgive me” he didn’t sound the least apologetic as he pumped his long and slender cock up and down. It was bigger than expected. Though he was a demon after all.

Your eyes flickered around the room, locking for anything that could have helped your escape. A hand buried its nails into your hip and you let a tiny whine out. You had to get away, but you didn’t have the energy to move.

“Keep your eyes on me. You aren’t allowed to look anywhere else. I want all your attention. If I can’t have that m, I’ll just force you” Asmodeus’ orange eyes darkened and his expression was stone cold. His perfectly manicured nails were by no doubt drawing blood. But he didn’t seem to care.

“You’ll only love me. Only me. Do you understand? You’ll only love me. You’ll only look at me.”

A lithe finger ghosted over your entrance. “Oh my… Are you wet already? Was it the drug I wonder… Or do you just love me that much?” his soft voice did nothing to hide his mockery.

Asmo slid two fingers into your entrance and drove them in and out slowly and sensual, before he removed them. You whined at the loss of friction. You hated yourself for it.

“You’re cute when you’re impatient” he bent down and kissed your cheek.

Something blunt probed your entrance. His tongue licked at the tears you hadn’t realised had started to run down your cheeks in crystal streams. A finger found your clit which it began circling. Asmo had always known how to play with you. Every touch sent a shiver down your spine and made your cunt tighten.

“Ah…mmm yes, take it in like that. Every inch of me.”

That wide, dangerous grin on his face couldn’t be more intimidating, even towards most devils. Asmo sits on his throne as he watches you suck him dry with all the energy you’ve got. You had no idea how much or long this went on, yet you were too cock drunk to care anymore. His size grew larger without warning, the tip pressing against your throat. Subtle drops of his cum would enter your body. They will never stop squirting inside until you finally get full as the king warranted.

Asmodeus’s body was tensing up, the thrill of getting sucked dry catching up to him. He hungrily licks his pink lips, “Hah- so good with your cute little mouth, yes?”

Your blowjob was interrupted after he lifted the back of your head by the hair. His glaring eyes of crimson meet your soft ones.

“Tell me, who is the superior devil in existence? The true king of Hell?”

You can feel your heart race from the strict tone of his voice. It was clear for sure that if it were anyone other than Asmodeus, his dick would go flaccid quickly. He’ll maybe start punishing you endlessly for good measure — he was lucky your mind was only made up of the lust king.

“You, Asmodeus,” you lick around his shaft, an aching sensation growing between your thighs, “Hah- you’re the true ruler of Hell…”

“That’s right, such a good little human, keke!”

His hand pushes you right back on him. The other hand snakes up his body and squeezes one side of his chest. Asmo bites his lip, a pair of his digits pinching and pulling his nipple while kneading. Hips were lightly rocking below your head, the mushroom tip knocking your throat.

“Every being in existence, even those pathetic kings, will remain beneath me,” he began to expose his foreseen narcissism, “They’ll never keep a human this good.”

Already surrounded by his unpleasant musk, your body was brewing hotter. You immediately pump the base of his cock as you suck, one of your hands reaching his tightening balls to fondle.

“Ugh! Ah!” Asmodeus yells and throws his head back.

The abrupt thrusting causes you to moan on his cock, the vibration getting the king more excited. He kept pinching his sensitive flesh to the point it started going puffy. Asmo’s tongue hangs for air while he whimpers.

“Ah! Oh! Yes! Yes! Take as much as you want! It’s all yours!”

Asmodeus’s urgent desire in his voice. The wish that begs to keep you. He needed to lock you in his nest forever. You belonged to Asmo, and he belonged to you. No one else will get to have all the fun. What a nice, pleasurable thought.

The devil king panted ragged and heavy, “Ah- D-don’t stop! Consume- Ah- all of my precious milk! More! More! More!”

A heavy and thick load stuffs itself down your throat. He presses your head further to the cock’s base, breathing around it becoming a struggle. Tears drop away from your lust-filled eyes, the suffocation turning into a newfound kink for you. One that the king of lust will take note of.

“Hah- don’t quit- hah- taking a king better than anyone else…”

Asmodeus pushes your head down with both hands so you can continue blowing him. He was having fun using you as his personal fucktoy. Even better, you were making him feel good, too. Oh, the thought of all the devils in Abaddon witnessing how good a blowjob he’s receiving from you.

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The bell chimed. But it sounded wrong this time. Too loud. Too sharp. Like the sound lingered longer than it should have, echoing in the air as you looked up from your workbench.

And there he was.

Leaning against the doorframe like he owned the place already. “Well now,” he drawled, voice smooth like honey poured over something dangerous. “Ain’t this just the prettiest little corner of the world?”

You blinked at him. Expensive suit. Crooked smile. Eyes that didn’t quite match the warmth in his tone.

“Can I help you?” you asked, polite, automatic.

He stepped closer, slow and deliberate, gaze drifting over the shop—flowers, ribbons, sunlight filtering through the windows. Then landing on you. “Oh, I think you already are.”

Something in your chest fluttered. You ignored it. “What are you looking for?” you asked, turning back to your flowers. “We’ve got—”

“You.”

You froze. Then laughed, awkward, brushing it off. “Very funny. Seriously—what kind of flowers?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached out—bold as anything—and brushed his fingers over a cluster of white lilies. They wilted instantly.

You gasped. “Hey—!”

But before you could move, he snapped his fingers. And they bloomed again. Fuller. Brighter. Healthier than before.

Your breath caught. “…How did you do that?”

He tilted his head, watching you like you were the most interesting thing he’d seen in centuries. “That’s the question, isn’t it?”

Something about him made the air feel… heavier. Charged. Like a storm was rolling in, but only inside the shop.

You should’ve been scared. You weren’t. You were curious.

—

He started showing up after that. Every day. Same time. Same crooked grin. Sometimes he bought flowers. Sometimes he didn’t. Sometimes he just leaned on the counter and talked like he had nowhere else to be.

And maybe he didn’t.

“You ever get tired of this?” he asked one afternoon, watching you tie off a bouquet.

“Tired of what?”

He gestured vaguely. “All this. The sameness. The quiet.”

You shrugged. “It’s nice.”

“Nice,” he repeated, like the word tasted strange. “Sweetheart, nice is what people settle for when they’re too scared to want more.”

You frowned. “Not everyone needs ‘more.’”

His smile softened—just a little. “That so?” he murmured. “Then why’d your hands shake the first time I walked in?”

Your fingers stilled. You hadn’t even noticed that.

—

Things started changing. Small at first. Flowers that shouldn’t bloom out of season began thriving in your shop. Customers started coming in more often—drawn, somehow. Your arrangements got bolder, brighter, wilder without you even realizing it.

And you— You started laughing more. Staying open later. Taking risks with colors you’d never dared to mix before.

He noticed.

“Oh, I like this version of you,” he said one evening, perched on the counter like it was a throne. “Less… contained.”

“I’m not contained,” you shot back.

He raised a brow. “You’ve lived your whole life in one place,” he said gently. “Never left this town. Never chased anything that might not work out.”

“That’s called being practical.”

“That’s called being afraid.”

The word hit harder than you expected. Your chest tightened. “You don’t know me.”

He hopped down from the counter, stepping closer—closer than usual. “No,” he admitted quietly. “But I’d like to.”

Your heart did something stupid.

—

It happened on a rainy night. The kind where the streets went quiet and the world felt small again. You were closing up when the lights flickered.

Once. Twice. Then steadied.

“…Okay,” you muttered. “That’s new.”

“Not really.”

You turned. He was already there. Of course he was.

Leaning in the shadows like he belonged to them. Something felt different this time, though. He wasn’t smiling.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

He studied you for a long moment. Then sighed, almost… reluctant. “You ever get the feeling,” he said slowly, “that your life’s about to change?”

Your stomach flipped. “That doesn’t sound ominous at all.”

He huffed a soft laugh. “Yeah. That’s ‘cause you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

The room went colder.

You swallowed. “Then maybe you should explain.”

He stepped into the light. And for just a second— Just a flicker— His eyes burned something unnatural. Gold. Red. Something not human.

Your breath caught. “…What are you?”

There it was. The moment. The truth sitting between you like a blade.

He watched your face carefully. Waiting. Measuring. “Name’s Asmodeus,” he said finally. “And I ain’t exactly what you’d call a regular customer.”

You should’ve run. You didn’t. Instead, you whispered, “A demon.”

He winced—like the word didn’t quite fit him the way it should. “Yeah,” he said. “Something like that.”

Silence stretched. Heavy. Fragile. “…You made the lilies bloom.”

He blinked. “That’s your takeaway?”

“You made them better,” you said softly.

Something shifted in his expression. Not pride. Not quite. Something quieter. Almost… hopeful. “I could make your whole life better,” he said, voice low. “Bigger. Louder. Brighter. I could show you things you ain’t even dreamed of.”

“And what do you get out of it?” you asked.

His smile came back—but softer now. Realer. “You,” he said simply.

Your heart stuttered.

“You’re… interesting,” he added, almost like he was admitting a secret. “Happy without needing anything. Kind without expecting something back. Do you have any idea how rare that is?”

You shook your head.

He stepped closer. Close enough that you could feel the warmth of him—too warm, like fire just under the surface. “I wanna see what happens,” he murmured, “when someone like you stops playing it safe.”

Your pulse raced. “You’re dangerous,” you said.

“Very.”

“And you’re offering to… what? Turn my life upside down?”

His grin sharpened. “In the best way possible, darlin’.”

You hesitated. Just for a second. “…Okay.”

That surprised him. It showed. “Okay?” he repeated.

You nodded, heart pounding. “Yeah. Okay.”

His grin spread—slow, delighted, a little wicked. “Well now,” he said. “Ain’t that the smartest bad decision you’ve ever made?”

You laughed—nervous, thrilled, alive in a way you hadn’t felt before. “Probably.”

He offered you his hand. You stared at it. Then took it. Warm. Steady. Electric.

And just like that, Your quiet little life with its soft bell chimes and predictable days? Gone. Replaced with something wild.

Uncertain. Dangerous. And somehow Exactly what you didn’t know you’d been missing.

“You trust me?” he asked, glancing down at you.

You squeezed his hand. “…Not even a little.”