𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐓 ᴼᶠ 𝓓ᴱᴹᴼᴺᔆ

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[𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐓 ᴼᶠ 𝓓ᴱᴹᴼᴺᔆ @ASMODAlOS]

hurt, my sunlight. He wants some attention, give him.”

@abyssgore @odestoblood

[𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐓 ᴼᶠ 𝓓ᴱᴹᴼᴺᔆ @ASMODAlOS]

there.” Surprisingly still innocent. “Then suck his cock and be done with it, then this will be over.” They clap their hands, looking between the women with a smile before dipping forward and plucking a cracker from the charcuterie board. “One moment of gas-lighting shan’t +

[𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐓 ᴼᶠ 𝓓ᴱᴹᴼᴺᔆ @ASMODAlOS]

you, just. . .” Asmodeus sighs lowly, a flicker of the nose. “Show him some attention, hmm.” There’s a sway of the shoulders, suggesting that their words are merely innocent to begin with. “Stroke of the stomach here, I miss you there, a kiss under the ear there, I love you +

[𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐓 ᴼᶠ 𝓓ᴱᴹᴼᴺᔆ @ASMODAlOS]

In life there are some diplomacies that come naturally as if imprinted there during creation and patiently waiting for the moment they are needed. Others need to be prepared, carved with the help of time and the rare few that’ll never bloom. Asmodeus is a Father by nature but +

[𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐓 ᴼᶠ 𝓓ᴱᴹᴼᴺᔆ @ASMODAlOS]

you enjoy this life, following a path opposite to that of a demon that chooses choices typical.” They pause with purpose, letting the seconds built. “There are many fixes for this issue with this, man-boy. You have easy and fast, hard and long. Many mixes, really. But why don’t +

[𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐓 ᴼᶠ 𝓓ᴱᴹᴼᴺᔆ @ASMODAlOS]

irises and their coat is unbuttoned, pulled opened to allow them a less gracious seat against softened seating. Their hand waved at the next glare, dismissing their lover in a mere flicker of the wrist.

“My light.” How effortlessly it falls, a truly adoring father. “I know +

[𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐓 ᴼᶠ 𝓓ᴱᴹᴼᴺᔆ @ASMODAlOS]

the Mother of their child. Distance is non-existent in this life, thighs pressed together as one and the warmth of their meat—suits dancing in an elegant waltz. Supple lips attempt to part, a warning glare fired from their saccharine lover earning a grizzled roll of mauve +

[𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐓 ᴼᶠ 𝓓ᴱᴹᴼᴺᔆ @ASMODAlOS]

poisoned their waters with multiple lovers. The King of Demons wouldn’t let it tumble this far off axis.

The weight of their body perches hazardously upon the edge of a sideboard, at a distance for the first few moments before they dare to approach. Asmodeus sits alongside +

[𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐓 ᴼᶠ 𝓓ᴱᴹᴼᴺᔆ @ASMODAlOS]

ancient shoulders leaves a head to slowly trot backwards. The hapless dramatics of love, desperate attempts for the attention of a single beauty. Deja Vu. They would venture, dare to say they are staring at their disorderly triangle with Abaddon and Azazel but even they haven’t +

[𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐓 ᴼᶠ 𝓓ᴱᴹᴼᴺᔆ @ASMODAlOS]

it is hidden behind a carefully constructed image, their purposeful incautious wiles. Similar to their own creator.

There a marginal trundle to mauve—tinted irises, recently manicured nails buffed on the priceless fabric of her pants and the roll of muscles in the depths of +

[𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐓 ᴼᶠ 𝓓ᴱᴹᴼᴺᔆ @ASMODAlOS]

“Not all of your endeavours for attention are ‘elementary’, darling.”

[𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐓 ᴼᶠ 𝓓ᴱᴹᴼᴺᔆ @ASMODAlOS]

There a marginal trundle to mauve—tinted irises, recently manicured nails buffed on the priceless fabric of her pants and the roll of muscles in the depths of ancient shoulders leaves a head to slowly trot backwards. Their gaze dares to meet, a collapse of galaxies. +

[𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐓 ᴼᶠ 𝓓ᴱᴹᴼᴺᔆ @ASMODAlOS]

Swipes away at invisible fluff, gaze peering at the knife which lands between her thighs. “Is that really your chosen greeting, my sweet?”

[𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐓 ᴼᶠ 𝓓ᴱᴹᴼᴺᔆ @ASMODAlOS]

sweet, perky little breasts. Asmodeus dips, capturing a dusky nipple between their lips.

[𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐓 ᴼᶠ 𝓓ᴱᴹᴼᴺᔆ @ASMODAlOS]

Torn they often are, lost between the simultaneous demanding need of tenderness and savagery. How easily their hands slam into a honeyed stomach, driving Abaddon into the surrounding surface and stilling her, completely rendering her motionless. Silence fills the room, as if +

[𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐓 ᴼᶠ 𝓓ᴱᴹᴼᴺᔆ @ASMODAlOS]

this very moment. . . To have their sweet, sweet Sister murmur words of requirement and be felt as if they are needed, wanted. “Get these off.” They hiss as pants are tugged at, her power able to tear them to ribbons but not wishing to break their current concentration. Such +

[𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐓 ᴼᶠ 𝓓ᴱᴹᴼᴺᔆ @ASMODAlOS]

them, a head tilting just slightly as kisses are scattered alongside a freckle-dusted visage. “Please never doubt my love for you.”

[𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐓 ᴼᶠ 𝓓ᴱᴹᴼᴺᔆ @ASMODAlOS]

For once, hesitation fills them. They wish to hum, offer forth their usual choice of response but the voices of their mother and sister incessantly bother at the back of their mind. “It. . . It isn’t.” An entire world they are certainly not familiar with. Dragging inhale fills +

[𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐓 ᴼᶠ 𝓓ᴱᴹᴼᴺᔆ @ASMODAlOS]

Apologises. Hmm. Not necessarily one of their strongest qualities. Roseate—tinted tongue dips out, moistening the flesh of their supple brims and their already tight grip tightens. “I’m sorry.”