I Wish I Was A Teenager In The Late 80s— My Hair Is So Fuckin Big Without Me Even Trying I Would’ve

I used my cat to wipe my tears cuz I thought it would be funny but I’m allergic to cats and now my eyes are all puffy and itchy—

Me with Solomon—

y'all when you see lucifer

I just did some deplorable ass shit and my door was fucking open-

Idgaf that google docs sells my writing to AI platforms, that robot is gonna be serving ABSOLUTE CUNT when I am done writing this smut

When you think of Barbatos, one word comes to mind. Kind.

Other people might not think of that specific word. You’re sure that someone like Mammon would describe Barbatos as cynical or frightening. But not you, no. To you, Barbatos is kind.

He doesn’t expect anything from you, he never has. You have so much on your shoulders, so much pressure from all three worlds somehow falling on you. And he’s always there for you, never expecting you to be or do anything.

If you need to cry, he’ll wipe your tears. If you need to talk, he’ll listen. If you need to shout, he’ll make you some tea for your strained voice. If you need to be held, he’ll hold you. Anything you’ve ever needed he has always done, he will continue to do.

Because he loves you. Unconditionally, Barbatos loves you. He doesn’t want anything but your love and he doesn’t even expect that. He just loves loving you. And there could never be anything more precious.

To you, Barbatos is always kind…until you don’t want him to be anymore. When you’ll need to lose your head, he’ll be there to make it spin. All you have to say is “I need you to fix me”, and fix you he will.

He’ll use his softest silk to tie your hands above your head. He’ll kiss your neck, grip your waist, bite hickeys so dark you’ll have to seek Asmo’s makeup skills when trying to cover them. He can make you dizzy without even having to slip his hands below your belt. He knows what you like. He knows what you need.

His hand will caress your waist, his lips will ravish your neck. He’ll kiss over the bites that he leaves, making sure you know you’re loved with every infliction of pain. You don’t have time to focus on one sensation before he’s quickly giving you another. It’s dizzying and it breaks you so good. And once he comes up for air, you feel whole again.

And he didn’t even have to touch you, he never does. Of course, if you asked him to, he would. He’d love nothing more than to fuck you into a daze. But if that’s not what you need, he won’t force it on you.

The men you’d loved before had never made you feel like this. No amount of kisses or sex or words said by them could help you feel better. They didn’t try like Barbatos does. And he does it effortlessly. He loves you effortlessly.

And you could never need anything more.

Satan loves to fuck you out of your head in places where he definitely shouldn’t be. Any time someone compares him to Lucifer, he can rest easy knowing that his older brother was too uptight to do anything as lewd as public sex. Satan is harsher. Dirtier. And he can take you apart better than any of his brothers, Lucifer especially, ever could.

And that’s how you found yourself pinned to Lucifer’s desk with Satan’s head between your thighs, tongue lapping away at your clit in such a way you couldn’t help but scream. A hand comes up quick to cover your mouth, effectively cutting your breathing in half and silencing your cries of pleasure. Another hand comes to rub at your clit as he bites along your thighs, leaving hickeys where nobody but him could see.

“You be a good girl and stay quiet. If Lucifer walks in and sees you like this, I’ll give you a punishment your body won’t soon recover from. It belongs to me. Now be a good slut and make a mess for me on his desk.”