Hello! You may or may not know me over on my other blog: @house-of-laminations
I’ve made this blog as a space where I can chuck around my more explicit nsfw writing and ideas so that my other writing blog won’t get taken down by trigger happy tumblr bot detectors. Along this vein:
Blank blogs will be blocked.
My ask box is open but please be patient if I don’t respond immediately. I have stuff to do out in the real world. If you’re unsure whether to send me something, I very much appreciate people who ask. Consent is sexy 💛
Check under the cut for my list of fics, headcanons, and tags!
📑Headcanons
My headcanons are typically bullet-pointed posts filled with snapshots and prose and all manner of degenerate ideas. Some are connected, some are not. All NSFW/T, naturally.
Eldritch Fucking - The Brothers and Tentacles
My take on how those manifestations of broken reality we call tentacles are used for his, hers, and their pleasure.
📖 Fics
Fics are the longer works - traditional story formatting (with some fun colors or text or symbols to add some spice).
Leaving a Mark
Satan x GN dom reader with some magic body paint, pact use, and a little tiny bit dumification. As a treat.
🎨Art
Occasionally I'll draw things. Very occasionally.
Painted Satanbased on the "Leaving a Mark" fic
🏷️Other Tags
For all your blog trundling needs
#the void screams back is where all my ask responses go. Lots of rambling, lots of screaming. Sometimes it's even sexy.
#the void (me) drew a thing is my general art tag
#void etchings for my general writing tag
#the void ponders for when I decide to be really annoying and add my own two cents to a post
i forgot to mention it here (i brought it up on @house-of-laminations) but im basically out of commission until after my confirmation seminar (6 may) for my phd. if i pop up i should absolutely not be using tumblr and i am procrastinating in the worst way possible. I'm not ignoring asks!!! i will get to them after the seminar :)
Ooo had ideas based on a song and I don’t know if this will translate well but like- tell me if it’s just a world jumble or like it’s Yknow 👍
Okay so like there’s a seduction class the game talks about at one point (hahaha professor sate.. My nose isn’t bleeding, yours is.) but I love the idea of just like after studying, going to his room and the two talking.. maybe Sate asks about human attraction, and just like.. pushing him on the bed.
“Well you see.. there’s different types of attraction.. I’m demi you see, so it’s rare I’m attracted to someone before I get to know them. Well then.. if I do get attached to someone.. and then attracted, my brain sort of becomes a leach.” Humming as you start to undo your sweater.
“Sure there’s date ideas.. and cuddling. Wanting to buy nice things for each other.. but then there’s another part of my brain. It starts rather innocent.. kissing… holding each other.. but it gets deeper, quick.” Still fully clothed as you shrug off your sweater, but you quickly stop as Satan tries to grab you.
Quickly whacking his hands, “You asked the question.. you can listen to the answers.” You ignore his growl and straddle his lap, “Things I don’t usually talk about.. you push them away sometimes.. but then it gets worse in a way.. more insistent.”
You easily take off his sweater so you can have access to the buttons on his shirt. “And then.. I start mentally undressing you. Wondering if you look as good as I think you do in my head..” biting his neck and all but tearing his shirt off his shoulders. Listening to his breath hitch as he tries to hum in acknowledgment.
“Such dirty thoughts.. I’d ask if I was going to hell, but I guess I’m already here.” Pushing him down on the bed, caging him in with your hands, “Sure doesn’t feel like it though.. feels like the things I’d fantasize about.” -🥀
Satan tutoring you (which is canon!!!) but then you flipping the tables on him when it comes time to show off what you've learned 🥺💛 Telling him how you want to spoil him and do much, much more. Describing in detail about how you're going to push him down and bite and scratch and suck at every inch of skin he shows you, and when you reveal more - well, that's a feast. Using only your words to make him hard and then asking him when he's whining and simpering and begging: "was that right, professor?"
Everyone look away, I'm having A Moment, and avoiding working on my WiPs, this is very nsfw, it's got noncon, dubcon, coercion, etc., Diavolo has taken you prisoner, AFAB!reader, etc.
Diavolo is yandere, delusional, demons don't have human morals, all that stuff. The tone isn't as dark as the tags because it's kinda from his perspective.
-
Okay so. He's taken you to his castle. You're not leaving, ever. You're his, as he's explained to you quite clearly, patiently, sometimes like he's talking to a child. Once Diavolo has you, he has you; he likes humans so much, he wants to get along, he wants to make you happy.
And what's one great way that demons have always made humans happy?
One way that's guaranteed to make you feel good, that Barbatos can slip you a tea or two to help you get in the mood for, that will maybe endear you to him over time, a method of entertainment that can keep you from throwing fits and trying to run away?
That's right~ One night you're about to go to bed, and he's not going to leave. He wants to join you in the shower but he doesn't want to upset you so if you want to go alone, you can - but there won't be any clothes around when you come out.
He won't be wearing much, either, but of course, he can't be outright naked. This is about you, after all. It's all well and good to show you some of his body, hopefully remind you of his attractiveness and fitness as a potential mate, but this is really just to make you feel good.
It's okay if you're scared. Or even if you're angry! You're always throwing fits like this, making a fuss.
It's so endearing, how you stand up to him like this, how you're so bravely unperturbed by the prospect of opposing him.
He admires you so much. He'll make you feel good! You don't need to do anything, which is pretty good, because when you thrash and shove at him, Diavolo is forced to restrain you - but gently, magically, always with his warm, friendly voice in your ear, tinged with excitement.
"Oh, my darling, no need to be so upset. This will feel good, I promise." Diavolo says, proud, because he's never broken a promise to you.
He swore to protect you when you told him about Lucifer threatening you. He swore he wouldn't let his most trusted subordinate get away with defying him. He swore no one at the House of Lamentation would ever so much as think about hurting you ever again.
Your smile at him was so sweet, so beatific, so relieved; it filled his chest with a surge of this strange warmth that fluttered and rose to his cheeks, made him feel giddy and delighted and made you crave your presence at his side.
Diavolo will make you smile like that again. Even if you don't think that you want to. When you finally get that feeling back, you'll be so happy, he just knows it.
He's diligent, attentive; you're his favorite subject in the world, after all, he's here just for you, watching your every reaction and expression.
Touching every place at every angle, switching up the pressure, the speed, anything and everything until your screams wilt into moans, to whimpers and whines, until he's grinding his palm into your clit at this one angle that has you keening -
Once Diavolo sees you cum, he is enraptured. Your flushed face, slack and beautiful in the wake of your climax, your eyes wide and open, glazed over with the proof of your bliss, your body honest, shuddering beneath him before going limp as he brings you to that ultimate high; it is his greatest pleasure, his honor and privilege as your mate, however unwilling.
Once he sees you cum, he knows for certain that once is not enough. He touches you, drinks you in with his eyes and then his mouth, tastes you, presses himself to you and breathes in your smell as your exhausted body steeps in his own scent.
Primal instinct demands, and he knows naught but to satisfy, as he had when he took you here, in his lair, to treasure and protect. He scents you, lets you bask in his pheromones in his sleep; your human nose may not detect it, but every demon you ever met will.
And your body will. The slow creep of it into your system, an aphrodisiac and a drug all at once that endears you to his presence, that your body slowly learns to rely upon, to crave when he is missing - at least in the long term.
But now, seeing you all docile and pliant, tired and worn out from fighting him and your own pleasure, Diavolo knows exactly what he wants; a whole new world of bonding has opened up to him.
He will still take you on dates, of course; inside the castle only for now, or in private areas of public spaces that Barbatos teleports you to, since he knows you can't be trusted not to throw a fit.
He showers you with gifts, brings you anything you ask for, whatever kind of books or movies or games or other media you like to pass the time; your conversations with him, though, and your willingness to engage with him have been sorely lacking.
But look! What a thrilling way to deepen your bond with him, get you accustomed to his presence and to associate him with positive things!
There's so much he wants to do with you, to you, it's almost difficult to pick a starting point, and he even asks you - look, he's compromising on that "I want to control my own life" argument you always bring up, too! - but of course, you don't express a preference.
Like the doting, excited lover he is, he sets out to start your journey together on his own terms. Orders catalogues of toys, of lingerie.
Diligently, he asks for your input on each one, too; you just aren't very cooperative about it.
But that's quite all right - you're with him, and that's what matters, and Diavolo is eager and ready to explore this whole new world of pleasure with you.
And he does. He learns all the ways to make you cum; where to hold you while he touches your clit to best feel your shivers, where you like to be caressed, where you like to be squeezed.
Feeling his way through your reactions like a blind man groping, looking for the subtle gasps or the instinctive way you lean into his touch to ground yourself - he learns it all and more.
He learns the fastest way to make you cum. The way that makes you scream the loudest.
He learns how long he can keep you at the edge before you - tearfully, throat choked with wretched sobs of your silly human shame over these things you hadn't quite yet abandoned - start to beg for your release.
Diavolo even tries, carefully, gently, to explain to you that humans have needs, just like demons do. It's natural for you to like this, to enjoy this, especially with proper, considerate mate.
There's nothing wrong at all with any of it. He loves you. He tells you every time you cum, so you know to associate his love with feeling good.
Your reaction isn't what he'd like, but it's all right. With enough patience, you'll eventually understand.
Days and weeks and months on end, and he doesn't even bring his cock out - Diavolo knows far better. He's a demon, far larger than what your human anatomy was meant to accommodate...
...but not impossible. He starts you out small, of course, just with his fingers, penetrating you in the lead up to the climax.
He likes to think he's good with foreplay, too. He always tries to be romantic; compliments, kisses, decorations and even meals provided by Barbatos, all manner of things to get you into the mood. And he never enters you dry, never even touches you until he's gotten you at least a bit wet.
He'd learned where to touch to get you dripping, what to say. All your dirty little kinks, the things he had to call himself, the things he had to call you.
He makes sure you're nice and wet before he fingers you; he makes sure to check in, and if you lie and call it painful, he can tell.
But Diavolo is still slow about it, still working you up to two fingers, leaving you with a toy magicked inside you every now and then when you misbehave.
A fun little treat for you - he always makes sure you cum with it inside, otherwise you'd develop negative associations - and also a way to work you up to bigger ones.
Slowly, over a few weeks, he works you up to bigger ones. Careful to make sure you can still find your release with it inside you, finding what kind of stimulation with it worked the best.
You don't notice until it's gotten rather close to his size. It's so adorable, how you panic over it, how you blanch and squirm and beg him not to put it in.
His instincts rumble from the inside, protective urges swirling at your anxious form, but he's been careful, he knows he has, and you can take this - you'll enjoy it, even, darling, doesn't he always keep his promises? Doesn't he always make you cum?
And he's glad he did. There's nothing, nothing in the world, more delicious to him than watching that monster of a toy modeled after his cock sink into your well-slicked, quivering cunt as you whimper and moan and take it with flushed cheeks and squirming legs.
Diavolo works it in slowly, of course, drinking in your debauched reaction, and watches in spellbound fascination as the toy bulges against your abdomen from beneath your skin.
When he fucks you with it, it gets him harder than ever before - you're not ready yet, but the moment you are, he's certain he'll finally know what divinity feels like.
Watching you moan and squirm, those sharp whimpers that tug at his chest with notes of worry before you begin to tremble in pleasure, tears streaking down your cheeks as you struggle to catch your breath; he rubs your clit just as he has a thousand times before, in the way he knows gets you so close, so quickly, just as he thrusts in and -
And ahh, he's worried for a moment, how you stop breathing as rapture overtakes you and your body stills, but the way you melt before him, take deep, smooth breaths in the wake of your climax, your eyes glassy and gone to the world, unable to so much as snap at him when he gathers you into his arms, fucked mindless and content.
He's learned so much from you, and loved every moment of it. It is Diavolo's greatest pleasure to teach you in return, and the first thing you've learned was to take him into yourself, and he knows, he knows, as soon as he delicately settles himself outside your entrance, watches you blush and tense beneath him, feels your sex quivering at his touch; there is nothing better than this, and this is not enough.
Nothing could ever be enough. He needs to teach you more. You can't cum just from being fucked yet, he makes sure to pay attention to your clit every time - but you could learn to, couldn't you? Could you?
There's so much. So much to do with you. So much time, so much pleasure, so many ways to test and stretch your body and its limits...
He wants to teach you to cum just from penetration. He wants you to cum more times during a session - over and over. In succession, even. He wants each one to be good, so good, he wants you to be sensitive enough to enjoy it, always - to cum without being touched, even.
Diavolo wants you to tell you that you love him back, each time he says it to you as you cum.
And he is going to have a wonderful time making it happen.
Satan coming in your room one day, and there’s an extra cloth on the bed. You’re looking in a box, but soon you look over your shoulder and smile at him, and his heart melts. He closes the door and locks it so his time with you won’t be interrupted. He comes over and hugs you from behind, “What is this?"
You lean into him, and hold the package up for him, “It’s edible body paint. I got it for us to try together.”
He would blink and hold onto you just the slightest bit tighter, thinking of all the things you could do..
(Mwah.) -🥀
🥀 anon my beloved how do you have such good taste.
cw: edible body paint, dom gender-neutral reader, overstimulation, use of pacts during sex, light pet play (calling Satan "kitty", "puss"), marking, aftercare
Leaving a mark
(Satan x Reader)
The body paint isn't just edible, though you don't realize it at first.
You take your time undressing Satan, tracing the line of his clothes with the cool paint just to make him gasp. As he lifts his shirt you follow with your brush in a looping patterns. You circle around his bellybutton and then up into the natural crevice his abs make. The moment he reveals his beautiful chest to you, you make sure to circle his tit around and around and around.
"Please," Satan gasps, but it's not a request. Not yet.
But you decide to indulge him anyway, lathering the green paint up and down and all around his nipple, enjoying the way it pebbles under the cool paint. Curious about the taste, you duck down and mouth at it, swirling your tongue to get as much of the paint as you can while your hand switches over to his other tit, lathering it with the same attention you gave the first.
The paint is slightly sweet, slightly chalky. It's not your favourite taste, but it makes your tongue tingle pleasantly and that's a feeling you could definitely do with more of. You suck and slurp at it, grazing your teeth softly to lift as much paint into your mouth as possible. Satan all the while is whining and painting, hands moving to your head to card through your hair.
His fingers have turned to claws, but somehow, despite all the attention you're lavishing on him and the way he's keening, he hasn't scratched you with those sharp points.
He deserves a reward for that.
You switch over to his other nipple, giving that the same attention you gave the first. The paint is warm despite it's naturally cool state as it slides down your throat and you feel it settle heavily in your stomach. The more you suck and lick and consume, the more and more it fills you up. You can't get enough of the stuff, following the line you made down his body and into the crevice of his bellybutton, dipping your tongue in and swirling it around.
This makes Satan practically giggle, and that's enough to make you pause. You look up at him, slightly surprised to see his horns and slit pupils, but by no means turned off. If anything, the heat in your lower body is only growing.
"'m ticklish," he murmurs, and you watch as his already pretty pink face blushes darker.
You raise an eyebrow.
"Really?" you ask, "The Avatar of Wrath is ticklish?"
He nods, and then gasps out a laugh as you lightly scratch just above the line his hips make with your nails. Testing a theory, you decide to bring the brush down too. Lo and behold, this makes Satan actually kick his legs out, his hand coming up to try and push you away. He actually manages to dislodge you, from where you were kneeling next to his prone form, and. Well. You can't have that.
"Be still," you say, and you feel a tingle not too dissimilar from the paint crawl up your throat and into your mouth as the command leaves your lips.
Immediately, Satan's body freezes, tail halting in it's writhing and the shivers and wracks ceasing.
"Very good," you coo, stroking his torso lightly.
It's right where you were testing his ticklish nature, and you can tell he definitely still feels it by the way his eyes flare and the high pitched whine that escapes his throat.
It's been a few moments since you tasted that delicious paint, and you can't help but dive in and lick at his hip where the paint is now dripping down onto the sheets below. Once you start, it's very hard to stop. You keep licking and dragging your teeth, nipping at the hard edge of his hip.
Satan is still under your command so all he can do is whine from the back of his throat, and growl at you deep in his chest.
You feel yourself becoming more and more aroused by the sights and sounds and tastes before you, and so you take the opportunity to bring one of your legs up and around Satan in a straddle, moaning when your crotch comes into contact with his. It's just enough pressure and friction to be a relief, but not enough to give any satisfaction. For you, or him. But that's fine.
You can both wait.
Dipping your brush back in the pot, still straddling Satan, you tilt your head as you contemplate what to do next. The way he's frozen beneath you has left his jaw and neck exposed, and oh that's too delicious of a canvas to ignore.
You carefully bring your brush up to his collar bone, dipping into the crevices there before dragging it up and out in quick, symmetrical lines. The first on the left side is easy and quick, but you take your time on the right to make sure it matches perfectly. Following the lines, you create small dots above and below as ornamentation. Any time you make a mistake, you take the opportunity to lean down and lick it clean.
Satan strains beneath you, those whimpering growls getting louder and more pathetic the higher your brush reaches. When you finally reach his neck, those sounds hitch before sounding like a sob.
"Oh poor kitty," you simper with fake pity, and as the words leave your mouth you're inspired. "Make sure to keep that pretty purring up for me, okay?"
The brush now drags up and around his adam's apple, and then around again when it makes his breath hitch and those purrs stutter. Dots are placed under his jaw, but you're less careful with these (only so you can lean down and lick them clean when you make a mistake).
Finally, finally you reach his face and oh what a sight he already makes.
His cheeks are so, so red and his eyes are barely open. What small slivers of his irises you could see are almost completely consumed by his black pupils. An impressive feat in his demon form, what with the way those pupils are naturally quite narrow. A bit of drool has escaped his lips as they're parted enough to peek those sharp, sharp teeth.
"Gotta have a clean canvas," you practically sing as you lean over and kiss that line of drool away.
You barely register the way you've begun to hump against him, Satan powerless to reciprocate beyond those high pitched whines. The purring is now practically a constant rumbling that makes you vibrate and it feels so so good as you move your hips.
"Now... what should I do with you?"
The question is rhetorical. You've already decided. But it's worth it to see the way Satan strains against the command's hold, eyes now wide and begging.
"How about I staaart here."
You move your brush as if you're going to continue under his jaw, but at the last moment you fling it up and paint a line across his left horn. More than anything, you just want to see if he'll feel it.
"Haaaa," he groans, the purring stopping and stuttering for the moments your brush drags across that hardened flesh and bone.
"Oh that is interesting," you say, and the excitement in your voice is definitely not faked.
You continue along his horns, drawing tiny little stars and patterns. You're craving a taste of that paint once more, so you carefully lather the tip of his right horn just to hear him whine, before taking it carefully in your mouth and sucking.
If Satan could speak right now, you know he'd be blubbering.
Once you've had your fill, and those horns are now covered in pretty green swirls and stars, you contemplate what you're going to do next.
"Good kitties have whiskers," you muse, and you follow the thought up with three lines to his right cheek.
It looks good, if you do say so yourself, so you decide to do the same on his left. Once again, it's not perfect on the first try, but that could have something to do with the way your rocking and humping has increased in fervor. It's hard to do fine, precise lines while you're chasing your own pleasure.
You bend down and lick at his cheek. While you're there, you move across just slightly so that you're able to dip your tongue into his mouth. You can tell he can taste the paint on it but can't do anything more than moan and swallow as you make sure to lick behind his fangs, under his tongue, and up to the roof of his mouth, lavishing every nook and cranny with that sweet, chalky paint.
He swallows again and almost immediately after, his purrs and whines cease. His breath also stops, and you wonder for a moment what happened. You shoot upwards, pulling back to stare into his face, to make sure he's okay. But as you do, the movement and pressure on his crotch increases and you feel it.
"Did you just cum?" you ask, just as surprised as you are impressed. There's no way for him to respond though, not with the command, so you move your free hand down and between your bodies to cup at his crotch.
And there you feel the slight pulse and the way his trousers are undeniably damp - way more than from just his precum.
"What a good Puss!" you cry, "I didn't know you knew that trick!"
Satan once again strains against the command, and you're starting to miss his cries.
"You can speak," you say, and once again that telltale tingling climbs its way up and out of your throat. The effect is immediate.
"Why are you sorry?" you ask, "you're such a good kitty, coming untouched like that!"
Satan whines and blubbers but it seems like his limit for words has been reached. You sigh, petting his hair.
"That's ok, sweetling. I'll be sure to give you your reward."
You carefully move down his body with both your mouth and your brush, making looping lines as you go. You reach a patch of blank skin to the right of his navel that makes you pause. You lean up, staring at it for a moment, wondering why that particular spot interests you.
Oh.
That's where his own pact mark lies on your body. Its a favorite place of his to nip and suck at when you're stretched out beneath him.
It seems odd that there's nothing there on him. But you can fix that.
With strokes more careful than you've done so far, you create a circular seal in just the way Solomon taught you. Within you put specific runes and dividing lines, dotting and marking the appropriate points until -
Perfect.
A seal of your own. A green brand marking Satan as yours.
It looks delectable, and makes that curling in your lower stomach tighten even further. You groan, and it harmonizes beautifully with whimpers and whines and meows of Satan. But you resist the urge to lick this mark up.
You want it to last as long as possible.
Slipping off Satan's crotch so you can unbutton his trousers, you don't even notice as that makeshift seal glows slightly.
Instead, you peel away his pants and his underwear, his erection straining against the fabric even after coming once. The brush travels down down down and over his hard cock, making it twitch up - somehow defying the command you gave.
"Please, too much, too soon," whines your beautiful boy.
"But you're my good kitty, right?" you ask as you once again bring your brush down, from base to tip. You savor the way that makes his breath hitch and whine. "Say it for me: say you're my good Puss."
You pause for a moment to let him speak, but his breath is still dragging itself raggedly up his throat. You bring the brush down in punishment, over his balls and down, painting until just before you reach his hole.
"Say it."
You didn't mean for that to be a command, but it happens anyway, that powerful speech pulled from your chest.
"I'm your good kitty! A good boy please please let me come let your good puss come please-"
His words do something to you, and you find yourself grabbing his tail and bringing it down beneath your legs, making it arch in just the right way so you have pressure as you move.
Hnnnnng feels so good.
"Good, good boy!" you cry as your pace increases.
The brush comes back up and swirls over and around his cock, but this time you're not careful at all. You're not trying to be careful, you just want to cover him in that pretty green paint so you can bend down and suck it right back up.
And you do, barely minding the brush as you lean down and lick up and down his shaft, sucking and swallowing and even getting the brush's bristles in your mouth as you're slow to pull it up and over, out of your way. It's sloppy and wet and messy but you don't care - it tastes so good and the way his tail is dragging against your crotch gives you just enough friction through your pants that you're so close.
"Nnyaaah I'm a good kitty please let your kitty come please please please!" Satan begs, even without your prompting.
You slurp and suck noisily and when you've covered enough of his cock you take the head into your mouth and lather your tongue all over. You move back and forward on his tail, and that's enough to bring his cock in and out of your mouth. Each time you rock forwards and backwards you take more and more of him in, until his head his nudging the back of your throat.
You hum around his cock and he cries out. Suddenly, your mouth is filled with the sweet and bitter and salty and chalky taste of his cum mixed with that delicious paint. You don't let a drop go to waste, even as you hump furiously against his tail, chasing your own release.
Ah.
It hits you all it once, that tasty, warm, delicious paint combined with Satan's cum sending warm jolts throughout your body from your stomach. With one last stuttering move, you cum, crying out Satan's name as you flop forward.
You're exhausted, and that's evident in the way the pact releases its hold and Satan brings his clawed hands down once more, threading through your hair. You sit up, reluctantly letting his cock slide out of your mouth, so that you can pick his hands off your head and thread your fingers together.
Satan is smiling blissfully at you, fangs pressing into his lower lip softly.
"I love you," he says, and that feels warmer than any orgasm, any paint.
"I love you too," you respond, "are you okay?"
Even as you ask, you're now reaching over to the bedside table where you left the damp cloth, and begin wiping him down, slowly dissolving that beautiful green paint. You wish you were feeling brave enough to take a picture. Maybe another time.
"I'm wonderful," he breathes, "can we do that again?"
You chuckle, now wiping down his chest and his stomach. You can feel his body relaxing, practically arcing into your touch. To your amusement, those purrs continue their soft vibrato.
"Definitely, but maybe after a breather."
The cloth wipes and wipes, until you reach the side of his navel. You frown, and you wipe again. Pulling the cloth away yields the exact same result.
Satan seems to notice your distress.
"What's wrong?" he asks, slowly sitting up.
"I can't-" you start, but you're distracted by the task at hand.
He stops your scrubbing with a soft hand, bringing the cloth away to reveal that improvised seal that refuses to wipe away.
"I'm sorry, I don't know why it's not going away, I'll try-"
"Don't," he says, cupping your jaw and tilting your face up until you meet his eyes. Rather than the anger or annoyance you'd expect, all you can see is that soft, soul-destroying love. "The paint is magic. It works by intent - it's what makes it such a good stimulant. If you wanted that mark to stay, then it stays."
Your eyes widen and your heart stutters. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to -"
"It's okay," Satan interrupts again. "I love it. I love you. It marks me as yours, just like my pact marks you as mine."
As he says that, he strokes beneath your shirt where your pact mark sits. It tingles with magic, and you notice with awe that it makes his own mark glow bright green.
There's only one thing you can say to that in the face of his soft look, his touch at your side:
God Asmo is near into everything and would adore being pushed over the edge by MC, the only one to not immediately fall to his seductions. But Asmo can be patient, and oh man when MC starts directing the tentacle fucking the wait was wORTH IT. I feel like he would especially enjoy MC using the pact to tell him where to touch himself uwu.
You're so right, anon.
The moment MC takes control, Asmo finally gets to experience what it's like to be flesh, to be mortal. He's at their power and it's exciting because he doesn't know what they're going to do next. It's this uncertainty, this complete lack of control combined with the knowledge that everything he is and stands for and presides over is being used against him that really makes him melt.
MC controls his power, his breaking and warping of a reality like a puppet master, and yet there's never enough warning when he feels that staticburningicysmooth brush up against him. It's especially not enough when it starts opening him up and stroking him from within. He's practically sobbing after the first tentacle, but he's just so curious and willing and so he begs MC for more and who are they to say no? Asmo loses track of how many times he cums, something he normally keeps a mental scoreboard of. But numbers have no meaning here. Those tentacles press on every nerve and fill every crevice, and it's not long before Asmo just. breaks.
Every thought leaves his head and his life becomes nothing more than just MC and the way they move him and in him, the way they completely fill him. Words of worship and praise and begging for more barely make it out of his mouth, his jaw slack and his mind practically melting as MC just adds more and more of those tentacles. And when his mouth is just gaping open, panting harshly, well. It's practically an invitation.
The series: You become the master of seven unruly brothers - and they don't want to let you go so easily. How it happened, and what it means for each of them.
Tags/warnings for this section: underwear thief, dom reader (obviously), yandere Mammon (obviously), afab reader (no pronouns used, addressed as 'master'), under-negotiated scenes/kink (though a safeword is in play and a check-in happens), use of the pact for sexual purposes, riding, orgasm delay/denial, this part is less yandere and more smut but it leads into yandere stuff I swear. The smut just got out of hand.
Minors DNI.
---
You weren't entirely thrilled about being kidnapped from your world and tossed into an entirely new one. Pushed into a new school, surrounded by creatures that look at you like you're a meal, and suddenly dealing with 6 (actually 7, but you only learn that later) housemates.
Forced to complete homework you can barely understand, a guardian demon with no concept of personal space, and a voice in your head begging you to free him, you resign yourself to a shitty year.
But a discovery late one night in your room makes things much more interesting.
Mammon
"Sit!"
The single word sends him to the ground from where he was going through your drawers. Mammon yelped as he landed solidly on his ass.
You'd just had a long tutoring session with Satan and your brain was starting to hurt. You did not need Mammon trying to steal your shit on top of that.
It takes your tired brain a moment to realise the drawer Mammon had open was filled with your underwear.
Your exhaustion is swiftly replaced by rage, and you repeat your command - "SIT" - until Mammon is left with his chest pressed to the floor, panting, knees barely hold his hips in the air.
"What do you think you're doing?" you demand, standing over him. His eyes are trying to look up at you, but he won't meet your gaze, settling on staring at your legs, your folded arms, the book you'd borrowed from Satan.
Mammon huffed. "Figured you'd hide your expensive shit in some stupid place. Same as most humans."
And that - that didn't sit right.
Mammon had pulled a lot of shit in the months you'd been here, but despite it all, he'd never once stolen from you. He was nosy, sure. He had a terrible understanding of boundaries.
But a thief? To everyone else, yeah, but not to you.
It's out of character enough that it's got you squatting beside him. Mammon still won't look at you properly.
"Are you like... okay? Are the witches pulling anything?" It felt weird to respond with concern when Mammon is for sure the one in the wrong here, but for better or worse, you and Mammon were usually pretty good together. This was weird.
"No." Mammon insisted, squirming a little, trying to escape the pact. The movement makes you roll your eyes and draws your attention to his body, and-
Well.
Well shit.
"Mammon," you say, and something in your tone must tip him off, because he clearly realises that you know. His voice rises and he's saying something but all you can really pay attention to is the way his dick twitches where it's straining against the fabric of his jeans.
And you have some things to consider.
You're pissed. At Mammon, at being kidnapped, at being drawn into their whole fucking family drama with Belphie, at being treated like a fool for not knowing things you never had a chance to learn.
You're bored. Devildom Law sucks. You've been studying for 2 hours and you're still not sure you understand the readings.
You could fix one of those problems right now.
"Mammon," you cut off whatever he was saying. Mammon's cheeks are flushed, his breathing heavy, but he's still hard as ever as far as you can tell. "Do you... know what a safeword is?"
Your demon gapes at you. You think for a minute you've broken him, and that doesn't change when he starts stuttering out curses and questions faster than you can understand, but you wait him out until you repeat the question.
"'Course I do, human," Mammon was so painfully trying to act tough but his wet lips parted with every breath. You could see him calculating where this could go. He was finally looking you in the eyes, too.
"Colour system? Red for stop, yellow for slow?"
"Like I'll need to-"
"Safeword out if you want me to stop," you order. The pact shuts him up, but he nods. Mammon's breathing is getting heavier and he keeps shifting around as much as your command will let him, clearly uncomfortable trapped chest down ass up on the floor.
"How do you feel about me using the pact?" you ask him. Mammon growls.
"How d'ya think, human-"
"Mammon," you say, and-
And you don't even give an order, but you can feel the surge of power between you. Your power over him. And Mammon can feel it too.
"It's good," he spits out, face burning. You swear you see tears in the corner of his eyes. "It- fuck, it's good."
"Okay. Flip yourself over. Take off the jacket and your pants."
You don't need to make it an order, but you let a little bit of a command slip through. Mammon responds fast, flipping onto his back and raising his hips, fumbling with his belt. His jeans catch on his ankles and you sigh as you realise you're gonna have to help him out.
You toss the jeans and boxers away while Mammon throws his jacket somewhere. The black shirt stays on, the hem riding up on his waist.
You take a moment to look.
Mammon is painfully hard. The whole thing is red and swollen, his dick already leaking precum onto his stomach. Your demon bites his lip and mumbles something about making you pay for the view even as his cock twitches in interest at your stare.
You consider your options. Mammon is a nice average length, not large enough that you worry about how it’s going to fit but big enough for a nice stretch. You weren’t planning on fucking Mammon today, so you have a distinct lack of lube, toys, or anything else that you could mess around with in easy reach. There is also the issue of Mammon looking seconds away from blowing his load untouched.
“Don’t cum.”
The order makes him shudder and groan before he even fully registers it. You can see the moment Mammon’s brain catches up.
“What?!” he protests, raising his head as much as your command will let him. His scowl is even less intimidating than usual with his desperate expression.
“Only good boys come, Mammon. Maybe I’ll let you if you do well.”
Mammon grumbles. He doesn’t safeword.
His expression quickly slackens once more as you remove your own pants, keeping your top on but opening up the buttons. His eyes follow the fabric as it drops to the ground, flicking back up and finding the space between your legs.
You straddle his face, forcing his head back onto the wooden floor with enough force to indulge his masochism.
“You’re going to eat me out until I can take that gross dick of yours,” you tell him. You can already feel his tongue trying to reach for you before you’ve even properly sat down. “You can use your fingers to help. Tap on my leg three times to stop, okay?”
Mammon nods enthusiastically.
“Okay?” you repeat, harsher.
“Yes, master,” Mammon whines and fuck. You drop down onto his tongue, grinding against his face.
Mammon adjusts your hip with one hand while the other sneaks between your pussy and his mouth, gathering up slick and saliva, helping him find your clit. The first time he shyly wraps his tongue around it you buck against his face and Mammon letting out a long, drawn out groan that vibrates against you.
Mammon is passionate, to say the least. You can’t help but roll your hips against his mouth, gasp when one finger finally enters you - gentle and slow, in stark contrast to the actions of his tongue. Mammon’s eyes are half-lidded and if it weren’t for his clever fingers and silver tongue you’d think he was already fucked dumb before anything even touched his cock.
Mammon has to be experienced, no virgin's this good, but he's whining and moaning like he's never been touched before. He's so hard it looks painful, and if you hadn't walked in on him trying to steal your underwear you'd feel sorry for him. As it is you just grind down harder, only allowing him some air when he slips another finger inside.
You pull yourself away when you feel ready - commanding hands off when Mammon tries to keep you stuck to his face - and sit on his stomach, your fluids mixing with the inhuman amounts of precum already there.
Mammon is breathing heavy, glassy-eyed. You run your hands over his chest, cooing gently until he comes back to himself, eyes focusing on you.
"Hey, cutie," you say softly. It's the only kindness you intend to give Mammon tonight. "How are you doing?"
Mammon gulps heavily. His hands hover over your hips where you haven't yet removed your last command. A single word lets him grip onto you, squeezing into the fat of your hips.
"I'm... why'd ya stop?" Mammon whines. His hips try to buck but he's still stuck to the floor. His face is flushed but he's talking to you, which you take as a good sign. He licks his lips, then does it again when he tastes you on them.
"I'm going to put you inside me now, okay?" Mammon sputters and chokes on his words, but that's pretty normal for him. "Are you ready?"
"I- yes, human!" he snaps. Your frown is enough to cow him into submission once more. "Yes, master, please. I want inside you so bad. Please."
"Better," you reply with a smile.
You cut off his next complaint by lifting your hips and sinking onto him.
Your own groans are easily outmatched by Mammon's. He fits nicely, just as you thought he would. Mammon had prepared you well and while you'd probably rushed yourself a bit by just dropping straight onto him, at least you can take a moment to adjust. Mammon's certainly not going anywhere.
"You need to quiet down," you tell Mammon, but this time you don't attach a command to it. He bits his lip and squirms as much as he can, trying his best to do what you say. "I didn't lock my door."
Mammon groans - quieter this time, at least - and his head falls back onto the ground with a sharp sound. "Yer a tease."
"I don't think you can say that right now." You roll your hips to emphasise your point and one of his hands flies to cover his mouth. "Just don't get us caught."
You alternate your speed - sometimes going hard and fast, chasing that high, but slowing down before you can reach it. You purposely avoid playing with your clit too much. You want this to last, you want to really punish Mammon. You don't think you've ever been wetter.
Mammon tries to buck up into you but all he can really do is wiggle his hips and watching his frustration and helplessness rise only makes you want to push him further.
It takes minutes for Mammon's vocabulary to be reduced to pleas, whines, and the occasional apology. His hands, the only part of him he can control properly right now, roam your body. Sometimes settling on your chest, clumsily playing with your nipples - sometimes gripping your hips hard enough to hurt - eventually, endearingly, settling on holding one of your hands.
You ride him until your legs hurt, until you're starting to feel a little brainless. Turns out edging yourself fucking hurts after a while. You decide it's time to end this.
Mammon is long past complaining about being your living dildo, his volume rising again as you increase the pace in your final push, your hand circling your clit like your life depends on it. You watch Mammon's face the whole time, the tear streaks, the way his hair is starting to slick with sweat, the way drool has started to gather at his lips. He's a mess, this beyond powerful demon is a mess, and it's all for you-
As you cum you know this is going to happen again, that you can't just have him once. You ride him through it and fall against his chest, heart racing. The only sound that fills the room now is sound of harsh, heavy breathing.
Mammon eventually gets squirmy again, escalating to a sharp groan as you pull yourself off. Your legs feel like jelly and you curse when you realise you left your water bottle in the kitchen.
You resign yourself to catching your breath and getting it later when Mammon grumbles.
"Hey, hu- Master," he corrects himself at your glare. "Um, aren't ya forgetting something?"
Mammon's hands hover over his dick and you realise that he's already well-trained enough to not touch himself without your permission. He's a good boy when he's like this, but...
You don't want to reward bad behaviour.
"You want to cum?" you ask innocently, making your way to your feet. You manage to hide your wince as your legs stretch out after... a while on the floor.
"Please. I- I know I did bad, but I'll be good I swear, I won't do it again, so please-"
Mammon shuts up when a pair of your underwear lands on his face.
It's not a fancy pair, nothing particularly sexy. But his hands fly to his face and he holds it like it's precious gold.
"You can sit up and lean against something," you tell him, and Mammon scrambles backwards to your bed, props himself up against the mattress. "And you can cum if you jerk yourself off into those panties."
"Thank you, thank you, thank - fuck-"
Mammon wraps your underwear around his dick, fisting himself harsh and quick. He's not going to last. You can see it in the way his eyes roll back, hear it in the way he calls your name. You can practically taste it.
When he comes it's with a full body shudder and a loud cry. There's no way no one's heard you two now. His cum dribbles out of your panties and you settle down beside him to scoop it up and press it back in.
"Hey, sweet boy," you call softly. "Can you stand?"
Mammon, eyes closed, nods. You ruffle his hair and he growls a little at the feeling of his cum on your fingers.
"We need to take a shower, okay? Think you can handle that, good boy?"
Mammon finally opens his eyes, meeting yours with obvious, unfiltered, sleepy affection. It makes you smile. You're definitely in too deep.
"Can I clean you up?" Mammon mumbles.
"Of course."
As Mammon pulls himself up, you take your dirtied underwear and shove it in the pockets of his jeans.
Good boys should clean up their own messes, after all.
Hey darling~ see you got some uh.. less rules here 😉
Everyone says Satan is a dom BUT I BLOODY BEG TO DIFFER. This man is a sub leaning switch. He wants to give up control, he just doesn’t have a person to give it to.
He would be so soft, mumbling while pleasuring him. He does have a small bit of a scratchy problem but if you ask nicely enough you can tie him up. He would be mess if you did really intricate rope work while he watched and just occasionally teased one of his more sensitive spots for a moment. The testing of his patience and then when you’re done tying him up he’s already ready for you!
… if you’re not gonna tease him some more that is.
His horns would probably make him feel very nice. It doesn’t always have to be a sexy thing but it definitely can be a sex thing.
If you gag him, his eyes eventually glaze over and that’s one of his favorite things because he can’t be in his head during that time. -🥀
How does it feel to be a person with impeccable taste?
Gifted student!Satan who works so hard to prove he's more than just the anger, that he's different, better, more than just Lucifer's anger. But it takes its toll - he's stressed, he's anxious, and its all because of everyone's expectations (except it's not, it's all him, but no matter how much he reminds himself, he can't help but feel the weight of everyone's eyes, everyone's pride).
And along comes MC, who looks at him and says he's worthy. Not for his intelligence but just because he's him. When he drops his guard and finally lets you treat him like their sweet kitty, what a good boy he cries. It feels so good to let go of that weight, those expectations, even for a moment and he just babbles like a dumb, mouthy little cat even though you tell him to be quiet. He even tries it through the gag but you can't stop yourself from praising him, even then.
Satan can have some dumbification. As a treat.
Also yes to horn play. it makes him....
horny. (im so sorry i couldnt resist)
ok but really - stroking his horns, kissing them, coming in close even though their sole purpose is to gorge but you trust him not to hurt you. Draping the horns in pretty golden chains, or perhaps even finding some beautiful green paints and watching him shudder as you drag the brush down from horn tip to navel.
Alright. You knew this was coming and you knew you were going to see this ask sooner or later the moment you opened this blog. Who amongst the demon brother does and is into tentacle play? Give me eldritch abomination tentacle dreams. Be detailed or be fatigue I give little fucks, just give us the gift of TENTACLES.
asdask;af;dk starting this off with a bang. You ever wake up one day and realize that 'I write eldritch porn' is now a character trait you have?
Eldritch Demons and Tentacles.
cw: technically mindbreak, switch GN!MC rights, some dubious consent somno, and of course tentacles. lots and lots of tentacles. Explicit NSFW/T under the cut.
There are two ways to approach this: fucking with and being fucked by. Sure, MC might not have tentacles of their own (at least... at the beginning they don't) but that's what pacts are for.
The thing is, before MC, there's no way that the brothers (besides perhaps Asmo) saw their eldritch potential in a sexual light. It's just who they are. So what if mortals perceive the way their presence breaks and bends and twists reality as some kind of shadowy limb? After all, those 'tentacles' aren't really even real - they're just the way mortal minds struggle to autocorrect the ways they can influence the world (both physical and spiritual) around them.
Levi
It's Levi who first kens onto MC's attraction to his more... questionable abilities. He's seen enough hentai to realize what's going on whenever he breaks his form enough and MC blushes in response, quickly closing their legs. He's also got the added benefit of the tail - a tentacle-like appendage that he knows MC loves to ride. It's not a hard leap of logic.
The tricky part is acceptance. It takes time for MC to finally cajole him into using the black, grasping tentacles during sex, and a lot of that involves some heavy tail lovin'. It's not a decision he ends up regretting.
He personally doesn't feel much physically whenever he uses his tentacles, but just the sight of MC figuratively and literally losing their mind while they're being opened up slowly and tortuously by his grasp on reality is enough to drive him wild, spurring him to add more and more. And what is a more perfect reality than seeing MC break just for him?
Asmo
With Asmo, MC discovers that they can use their pact to turn the tentacle apparitions on the demons.
The thing about experiencing a reality beyond your own, is that it's hard to return and be satisfied with what you have. After the first time, MC is hungry for a repeat experience. There's a power in knowing that the world breaks for your pleasure - in your pleasure. And it's selfish to keep that knowledge to yourself.
MC commands Asmo to tear the world apart, and as he does so, the tentacles that grasp and writhe return, twining around you and the space that you share. But with some clever words, those tentacles release their hold and become directed inward.
Asmo's quite experienced in pleasuring himself, but this is something completely new. Because it's him, but he's not in control. He opens himself up under MC's watchful eye, and can't stop himself when they tell him "One more for me. Make it fit." He remakes himself over and over and over and it feels like it never ends.
He, of course, is very willing to return the favor. Something MC would absolutely take him up on.
Belphegor
Belphie tends to lose his grasp on physicality the easiest, more comfortable in that space between waking and dreams. In dreams there's more freedom - it's the only place where mortals can begin to move and shape the world like the Avatars do.
So really, he's not all that aware when his control slips . All he knows is MC is dreaming about him - or are they hanging out? He's not sure. But then they're reaching out and he can't help but reach back. It's not with his hands, but that doesn't matter. Their touch is so warm it practically melts him.
He needs more of that warmth, and he knows his hands and face and his body aren't going to be enough. So he seeks them out with everything that he is and wraps them up completely. But it's not enough.
Those parts of him, mortals would see them as tentacles, they reach and prod and poke until they're inside. He spares a thought for MC's comfort, but they're grabbing for more of him, desperately trying to fit him in their mouth.
When MC wakes, they're not sure whether it was a dream or reality. All they know is that they're sore all over. And filled with more energy than they know what to do with.
Beelzebub
Beel's hunger is never satisfied, but it comes close when MC smirks wickedly before commanding him to take and consume. As he does so, shadowy masses can be seen grabbing and latching onto the shafts of light streaming into the window, reaching up and up and around until those tentacles become the only thing in sight.
The area around MC becomes almost living as the black masses surround them. But take is only the first half of the command.
The return of those tentacles is quick and sudden, and MC makes sure that they're all directed physically towards Beel's waiting and hungry holes. There's very little gentleness as all the tentacles fight to enter him at once, bringing with them the tattered remains of time and space that further fill the Avatar of Gluttony. He's stretched so far around it all, but there's joy and contentment at how much he's able to take and consume.
Beel is drooling around the tentacles in his mouth, even though there's no possible way that his saliva could lubricate the shadowy shafts enough. It's just so mouthwatering, being able to take it all in. It's the most filled he's ever felt.
Satan
For Satan, those tentacles represent more than just his influence on reality. They are what bind him together, filling in those gaps that remain from when he tore himself free from Lucifer. They're close to the surface, even in his humanoid form, and often even a regular human can sense something that isn't right.
There's not even a second thought for him. He sees MC and all the places that are empty, that need to be filled. To him it's a mercy to reach out and and use his influence, those tentacles that cut through the fabric of the world so sharply, to enter, to fill, to heal.
MC coos and praises him for feeling so good, for making them part of him. Because that's what it feels like - a bridge, a connection between your flesh and your soul and his existence. It's an experience you're both willing to repeat, MC practically craving it.
Mammon
Mammon is basically begging to be used by MC, to have his own power turned against him. Normally that's just through pact commands, but he's a greedy thing at heart.
MC asks him for the world and he tries to grant it for them in gems, in gold, in jewellery, and in fine furs and clothes. They're often draped in decadence and yet they demand more from him. They ask him to prove his commitment, what he's willing to take. To bring them the thing that is worth the world to them.
And of course, there's nothing MC values more than Mammon himself. So when they command him, his power has nowhere to go but within. They ask for him to be presented like a treasure, like a prize, and his power reacts accordingly - stretching him out and presenting him for MC's appraisal.
Lucifer
Lucifer doesn't normally manifest in ways that results in the tears and breaks required for humans to comprehend tentacles. He was there when that reality was created, so he knows how to exert his influence in more subtle ways. He knows how to break the fabric of existence in ways that human minds wouldn't know to comprehend, and then stitch it back together at his whims.
That isn't to say it can't happen - just that MC needs to make him lose control entirely. Which is not an easy thing to do with the Avatar of Pride.
It takes days, weeks, of building him up and denying him at the last moment. At first just a squeeze at the base of his cock but then a command through the pact to hold. And hold is such a cruel command, because it's not stop. It's wait - all that arousal not going anywhere, for days and weeks on end.
Finally, finally, after almost a month in human time (nothing but a blink to him), after an uncountable number of holds, Lucifer breaks. Those tentacles, not black but filled with all manner of colors, some MC has never seen before, rush out and then back in, desperately trying to do anything to break that pact's hold, tugging at himself, stretching himself, so quickly and with so much friction and it's still not enough.
😉 tw for knifeplay, bleeding (consensually ofc,) consumption of blood, and master dinamics
“I’m glad you liked it..” he wasn’t confident right now, a stark change to his normal. You were sitting on top of him, his demon form out for your own eyes. A small dagger in hand as you ran it down his chest. You were gentle.. no blood yet.
“You were so good.. you got me a lovely present.” Gliding the blade across their jaw, looking into their eyes. The complete trust they held even though you could kill them right here. Fascinating. “Why did you get me a ceremonial knife, darling?”
“It’s a custom in devildom to give them to your… partners, when you reach a certain point in your relationship.” He shivered as you ran a hand along his horns.
“A certain point, hm? And what point would that be?” Finally you ran the blade back down his neck, back to his chest. Gently pressing you made a small cut, watching the blood gather on the surface. The resounding gasp made you hold onto them just a little tighter.
They breathed heavy for just a moment, rilled up, "More. Please.”
You watched where you cut carefully, taking it slow and watching their breath hitch and their body squirm. Soon enough they had a little initial carved into their chest, “I want answers darling.”
“It’s just a.. symbol, if you will. That our relationship has progressed.” His eyes were glazed over as he watched you run your finger along the cut, and put it in your mouth. “It tastes sweet, darling.”
He threw his head back on to the pillow, feeling.. things. Ceremonial knife? Best thing Hes bought in five hundred years. -🥀
😳 um. Yes. I’m about to vibrate out of my own flesh oh my gosh
Handing over the power to hurt them as a symbolic gesture but also using that pain to worship them??? 💛💛💛 spectacular. now you can’t even do regular rituals or summonings involving them and the knife without them getting excited…
IT'S SO SYMBOLIC SO SEXY SO REAL WE LOVE TO SEE IT, WE RLLY DO (this is @elsecrytt on my side account bc I can't put the ask stuff under a cut on a reblog)
Carving your initials in your demon lover's chest? (I was 100% picturing Satan throughout all of this tbh) It's traditional to cut their heart out and eat it ofc, but that's for. A bit further in the relationship.
And of course for that part it's traditional for them to give you a knife that's made of their own horns, of course (He shivered as you ran a hand along his horns. ANON YOUR TASTE)
Demon blood is normally poisonous but it can change flavors and affects depending on the demon's moods/intentions. If you are mates then your demon partner's blood is actually sufficient sustenance - kjadslhhg i'll stop there -
"Gently pressing you made a small cut, watching the blood gather on the surface." hhhhh I've written knifeplay before and I love it every time just. Cut cut,,, but careful,, the intimacy of splitting open flesh man, that's delicate work, I LOVE IT
rose anon absolutely top tier work I totally love it uwu jess is 100% right, it's such a pleasure to read through <3
HI SMUTTY JESS, I READ "I might open rec’s eventually" and I was like EXCUSE ME??? I HAVE SO MANY RECOMMENDATIONS AND I SWEAR I KNOW YOU'LL LOVE THEM THIS IS UNJUST AND UNFAIR dafskjhlgsdh XD glad to see u on,, the horny side, <3
I HAVE ARRIVED. and im very happy to be here with you 💛
lbr my self control is so limited so 'eventually' will probably be sooner rather than later
