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cat-girl11 · 8 months

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Thinking about Soft!Lucifer comforting you while he takes your virginity.

You’re so nervous, especially since your first time is going to be a demon. You trust Lucifer completely, and yet you can’t help but tremble beneath him. He prepared you so well, so thoroughly but gently, a show of how much he cared for you.

“You’re alright, little one,” He cooed down at you, “I’ll be gentle with you. I promise.”

His words made you feel warm inside, helped you calm down a bit and relax into the mattress. You tried to get comfortable as he lifted your legs, snuggling into the warm blankets and tucking a large pillow behind your head.

The stretch of Lucifer first entering you was the hardest part. It didn’t burn the way you were worried it would—possibly due to a bit of magic work on Lucifer’s end—but it was still strenuous.

He paused once he had fully sheathed himself inside of you, stroking your face gently and looking into your teary eyes as he praised you.

“Oh my little human, you’ve done so well. I know, it’s big, I’m sorry sweetheart.”

“Don’t cry, sweet baby, you’re doing just fine. You took it so well.”

“I’m going to make you feel amazing, love, so good you’ll forget everything else.”

And he makes more than good on his promise.

He’ll start slow and gentle just as he said, only picking up the pace when and if you ask him to, but when he has your little virgin hole clenching around him so tightly it’s hard to control himself.

He’s getting closer and closer to his climax, and it’s getting harder and harder to hold back.

“L-Lucifer—! Please, please slow down!” You whimper, gripping onto him like your life depends on it.

“I can’t, sweetheart—“ He admits, “I can’t…not when you feel so amazing—“

All you can do until he cums is hold onto him, and he’ll gladly hold you if you’d like.

“It’s alright, my darling, I’ll hold you…I’ll always be here to hold you…”

The cute noises you make when you get close to cumming tug at his heart strings a bit. They’re so pathetic and needy, a clear sign that you’re overwhelmed, but you’re both so close. The way your back arches with one last call of his name as you orgasm is enough to have him releasing inside of you right after, and your moans don’t quiet completely until his thrusts have finally slowed to a stop and he’s collapsed on top of you.

“Oh baby,” He whispers as he pulls you in close, cock still nestled deep inside of you. “That was a lot for you, wasn’t it? Oh, but you took it so, so well. I’m so proud of you.”

You’re tired, exhausted even. It’s plain on your face, in the way your eyelids flutter and struggle to stay open.

“Go on, my love,” Lucifer mutters against your skin as he plants a kiss on your forehead, “Off to sleep with you. I’ll be here to take care of you when you wake up.”

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cat-girl11 · 8 months

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Can someone find me this om replaced mc au fanfic (again). I don't remember how it started but in the end mc make a pact with Diavolo and fight the brothers on the new exchange student birthday party for revenge, the brothers was badly injured and they were unconscious for few days and when they wake up they all read the letters that mc left for them (mc is already left before they wake up) and they were cried together regretting their actions after read the letters. If anyone know this please give me the link

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me x reader #obey me mc #obey me angst

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cat-girl11 · 8 months

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i just read someone’s idea of reader drinking some lactating potion on accident and was wondering how the brothers would help the reader 😭 THOUGHTS? 🎤

LEVIATHAN, ASMODEUS, BEELZEBUB & BELPHEGOR 2.4k words | NSFW | gn!Reader Content warnings: due to magical mishaps, Reader has larger, lactating breasts that are vaguely described; lactation kink, breast/nipple play, breast massaging/fondling, titty fucking, fingering, oral sex. More in the Lactation Kink series: Mammon | Solomon | Lucifer, Satan, Diavolo & Barbatos, Simeon, Karasu

LEVIATHAN

Levi invites you to his room as a way to distract you. He tries not to stare at the noticeable swell of your chest as you walk, larger and bouncier than usual.

By the time you both walk to his room, your eyes are welling up and you cross your arms try to hide the fresh wet spots staining your shirt. He rummages through his closet and hands you a black sweater—it’ll hide new stains easier, and it’s loose enough that you don’t feel too exposed.

He suggests playing one of your favorite games to distract you, but he can tell it’s not helping like he hoped it would. You make small noises of discomfort on the sofa beside him, and when the round is over, you pull the damp fabric away from your sticky skin with a frustrated curse under your breath.

The hem of his sweater rides up your belly when you stretch your arms above your head to try and relieve some of the tension in your shoulders; Levi swallows around the lump in his throat when the innocent gesture sends his mind reeling.

It’s hard not to stare at the thin stream of milky fluid running down your chest before it drips onto your thighs or soaks into the waistband of your pants. It’s hard not to think about his collection of porn and hentai that this reminds him of, and how his cock twitches in his pants when he licks his lips without even realizing it. It’s hard not to imagine what your chest would feel like in his hands, or what the fluid clinging to your nipples would taste like if he sucked one into his mouth.

You reach for his hand and pull him off the couch when you head towards his tub to rest. He turns around to give you a bit of privacy while you change into a clean shirt to sleep in. The discarded sweater you give back to him is warm and a little damp and sticky in his hands, but it still smells like you. It’s nearly impossible to resist the urge to bury his nose in it and inhale a whiff of your scent into his lungs. He sets it in his laundry hamper instead—on top, so it's easy for him to find later when you leave—and gently settles into his tub behind you.

You’re already snoring lightly, and he shoves a body pillow behind you so his persistent erection won’t rub against your back and wake you. He risks putting an arm around you, and his stomach flips when you relax under his touch.

You woke up this morning with heavy, leaking breasts after eating whatever it was that Solomon snuck onto your dinner plate last night. None of them knew what to say when you stumbled into the dining room, the buttons of your shirt strained by your larger chest and wet spots blooming around your nipples. Satan suggested finding ways to relieve the swelling—massages might help, he added with a blush.

Levi thinks he might mention it to you again when you wake up, if you’re still swollen and uncomfortable. Maybe if he’s lucky, you’ll let him help.

ASMODEUS

Asmo’s invitation to spend the day with him begins in his large soaker tub. The rivulets of sudsy bathwater that run over your skin mask the milky stream leaking from your nipples; they mix together and leave a soapy, creamy film on the water’s surface.

He stands behinds you and hums while he washes you gently with a loofah. He’s gotten little peeks of your naked chest already, but he doesn’t stare no matter how much he wants to; he wants you to relax. His priority right now is simply to pamper you, to try and wash away the unfamiliar lactonic smell that clings to your skin. He slowly replaces it with a blend of subtle rose and herbs—something a bit stronger, something that will hopefully remind you of him later on.

He helps you out of the tub after and begins patting your skin with a fluffy towel to dry you off. He can’t help the way his heart sings that you trust him enough to let him do this for you. He’s so careful when he brushes the towel against your chest, and he doesn’t draw attention to your nipples that leak more pearly liquid no matter how gentle he is when he brushes over them. Your breasts are noticeably heavier and he can tell by your hunched shoulders that their unusual weight is uncomfortable for you.

Asmo leads you to his bed and lays you back gently against the plush blankets. There’s a loose robe tied around his waist. He doesn’t bother offering you one; you won’t need it for very long even if he did. He straddles your hips and lowers his weight gently on your lower belly; his hands hover over your breasts as he explains what he wants to do next to help you.

“Won’t it make a mess? Your nice sheets…”

But he clicks his tongue and grins at you and your sweet but very misplaced concern. “They can be washed. Let me take care of you, hmm?”

He starts massaging lightly with the pad of his fingertips, moving his hands in slow circles around your breasts first. He watches your expression carefully and when you settle deeper into the mattress, he starts adding a tiny bit more pressure, creeping a touch closer to your nipples. You wince and turn your head with a whimper as the massage coaxes a steady stream of fluid to leak out and trail over the sides of your chest and onto the bedding underneath you. You knew this would happen, but your face still flares as embarrassment ripples through you.

He hushes you softly, eyes glancing back and forth between your face and your leaking breasts. “It’s going to help with the swelling. You’re doing so well. Does it feel better?”

You jerk your head with a nod against his pillow and exhale a shaky breath. “It feels—it feels okay. You can keep going.”

He wanted to relieve the pressure building in your chest, but his mind wanders to other things he’d like to do instead. He tweaks one of your nipples lightly, rolling it gently between his thumb and forefinger, and the gasp that escapes your lips sounds surprised, almost pleased. He brings his hand to his mouth, and you turn your head and watch his tongue lap up the dribble of fluid running down his finger. Your hips squirm underneath him but it only teases him more; his cock grows heavy and it’s leaking slightly where it bobs against your belly with each shaky breath you take.

He shuffles forward on his knees, squeezing your breasts lightly as he rests his cock in the valley between them. “Can I?”

You nod and stare as he presses your breasts together, creating a soft, pillowy vice around his cock. He tips his head as his eyes flutter closed, lips falling open as soft sighs escape him. His hands and cock smear through the sticky mixture of his own glistening precum and the little pools of milky discharge flowing from your nipples. The wet, slick sounds of his cock sliding across your skin punctuate his quiet moans and makes your own arousal flare deep in your belly and between your legs.

It doesn’t take long for him to finish—he groans your name and catches most of his release with his fingers, and he stares at the remnants he didn’t catch that splatter the tops of your breasts up to the delicate column of your throat. He wishes he could keep you like this forever, stained with his release like some sort of brand that claims you as his.

He grabs your hands instead and holds them against your chest; the cum on his fingers rubs onto yours. He’s making an utter mess of you—he’ll wash you again soon, but not yet.

“Keep rubbing them, darling,” he murmurs softly, guiding your movements with his hands, “just like that.” He watches you massage yourself as he loosens the belt around his waist and shrugs the robe off his shoulders. It falls in a heap on the floor and you bite back a moan as he slides down your body. His eyes twinkle with mischievous delight when he spreads your legs apart and kneels between your thighs. You gasp when he starts stroking you, his fingers matching your own slow, lazy rhythm.

“You won’t feel uncomfortable for long, darling,” he promises thickly, licking his lips and glancing at your heaving chest with half-lidded eyes before he lowers his head between your legs. “I’m going to make you feel so good.”

BEELZEBUB & BELPHEGOR

The twins lead you up the attic stairs and guide you towards the bed. You’re not sure what they have in mind—it’s unusual for Beel to join you for midday naps—but their motives become clearer when they take off their shirts and then reach for the hem of yours.

Belphie doesn’t even try to hide the way his eyes roam over your swollen chest and leaky nipples, but Beel’s hand is gentle when he nudges you onto the mattress. “You’ll be more comfortable if you lay down,” he suggests, and you can practically hear the drool thickening his words.

They don’t give you much time to feel self-conscious or insecure about your body’s strange developments. Beel settles on one side of your body while Belphie curls up against your other side, effectively sandwiching you between them in a little warm cocoon of molten heat and soft affection. Each of them cups one of your breasts and they both sigh dreamily at the warm, slick sensation from the milky discharge.

Belphie props himself up so he can lean over you. He nuzzles your cheek and kisses you, softly at first before he groans deep in his chest and his lips move against yours with more urgency.

Beel stretches out along the other side of your body and runs his thumb over your nipple, and his eyes watch your face carefully for any signs of discomfort. When he sees none, he covers your nipple with his mouth and hums at the slightly sweet taste. The heat of his mouth and the sensation of his tongue flicking against the sensitive nub surprises you; you arch your back slightly, and he makes a questioning noise in the back of his throat as he pulls away. You card your hands through his damp, fiery hair to let him know you’re alright. Once he’s sure that you’re not hurt, he lowers his head and starts to suck your nipple with more vigor than before.

Belphie finally breaks away from the kiss when Beel’s hungry groans become too distracting to ignore. You barely have time to wonder what the sly smile on his face means before he latches onto your other nipple; you’re not sure whether the quiet moan that tumbles from your lips is from pleasure or pain. He’s not as gentle as Beel—he sucks just as greedily but with a hint of teeth. He’s noisy, too—his lips slurp and smack against your swollen breast but it’s not enough to hide his muffled groans.

The quiet tranquility of the attic fills with the lewd sounds of Belphie’s whiny, desperate noises and Beel’s low satisfied growls. The unusual pleasure of their lips sucking greedily at your chest slowly morphs to discomfort, and you squirm uncomfortably beneath their combined weight against your sides.

Beel lifts his head first, and even though his eyes are dark with hunger, he still glances at you with concern. Belphie is slower to respond—he pulls your nipple between his lips and releases it with a little pop, and he smacks his lips noisily.

They’re both messy from their ministrations. The bottom half of Beel’s face is slick and there’s a trickle of milky fluid dripping down his chin. Belphie’s lips are shiny too, and he licks his lips slowly to collect the creamy white discharge on the tip of his tongue; he stares at you with unabashed heat in his eyes when he swallows it down with a satisfied hum.

“What’s the matter?” Belphie asks with a pout when you shudder beneath him, even though he knows you’re not fooled by his fake innocence. “Satan said draining the excess fluid would help you feel better.”

You had no idea that the twins feeding from your chest like greedy piglets would be their way of helping you, and you hate it even more that part of you liked it. “You’re right, and it helps that they’re less…well, full,” you admit, ignoring the wolfish grin spreading across Belphie’s face, “but…be gentle, okay? They’re still sore.”

Belphie glances over at Beel and you know that they’re doing that silent twin brain thing they do—it’s amazing how they can read each other’s minds so quickly. You’re not sure what to expect, but it’s not for Beel to slide down the bed. He tugs at the waistband of your pants until you lift your hips so he can pull them off and toss them away.

“We’ll give you a little break and try again later,” Belphie murmurs as he rubs the tip of his nose against yours. “You taste so good, though—you can’t blame us for getting a little carried away.”

Beel’s hands spread your legs apart so he can settle comfortably between them near the foot of the bed, and you shudder when he lowers his head and breathes against the hot, sensitive skin between your thighs.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself because this is a little embarrassing,” you mumble under your breath, but your voice trails off into a groan when Beel’s lips tease at your arousal.

Belphie chuckles, glancing from your half-lidded eyes to your chest—your breasts jiggle slightly from the tremors of Beel’s tongue exploring between your legs. “Don’t be like that,” he scolds you, squeezing at your chest gently; he traces shapes onto your skin with the pearly fluid seeping from your nipple. “You know we’ll always love you, right?” he asks quietly.

You’re surprised by how vulnerable he sounds, and he grunts quietly when you curl your hand against the back of his nape and pull him down for another kiss. His mouth curls into a smirk against yours, but he finally kisses you properly when you whimper his name pathetically in a quiet plea for more.

Taglist: @l-d-8 @mithrakira @your-next-daydream @haezen @xpixie @meggsngrits @flemmingbamse @tortibomb @amberrskiies @angelsdilf @rensphilia @4allthefours4 @a-hidden-gem @lust--on--my--lips @beelsjuicytitties @goldenglow149 @callmesaya @cosmicstarlatte @alexxncl @sirimirihiro @i-am-empress-irish @ezraiix @bizarrebankai @devildomd0ll @alexxavicry @moon-i-v @ablondehoe @vinsmouke

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cat-girl11 · 9 months

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Can someone help me find this om fanfic? It was replaced mc au but the new exchange student is actually kind to mc, it was the brothers who abandoned and abused them, in the end mc finally snap when they find out that Mammon had sells mc's grandma's ring. If anyone know this fanfic please give me the link

#obey me #obey me mc #obey me mammon #obey me x reader #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me replaced mc au #obey me angst

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cat-girl11 · 9 months

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don't mind me... just thinking about the demon brothers slowly dropping the rest of their roster for you as they fall head over heels...

lucifer (you are here) // mammon // levi // satan // asmo // beel // belphie -- NSFW warning below, gn!reader

lucifer, who would never say no to lord diavolo. he wasn't exactly fond of the whole "exchange program" idea, knowing the power imbalance between the three realms, but lord diavolo had his heart set on bringing humans and angels into the devildom. lucifer could only do his best to make sure things would go smoothly. the weakest member-- some human devoid of magical skills or means to defend themselves, unlike the other applicants-- would be living in the house of lamentation, where him and his brothers could make sure you at least survived the whole program. he's not exactly pleased by the whole thing (and hiding belphegor away for the whole year will certainly be taxing, both mentally and emotionally) but, whatever the prince wants...

lucifer, who doesn't trust you as far as he can throw you. he doesn't like how you're cozying up to his brothers, wrapping them around your fingers with pacts, avoiding his eyes as he watches your interactions. make no mistake. you're here on the whims of lord diavolo, but that doesn't mean he has to be nice to you. just keep your head down and you'll survive. oh-- and don't make meddling in his family's affairs a habit. he will not hesitate even a moment to get rid of you if he perceives you as a threat.

lucifer, who is quite popular. even though he makes only a minimal effort to socialize with others (he's far too busy with student council work to cultivate a large group of friends), nobles and common folk alike flock to him. this, in turn, brings forward a lot of romantic attention. it's not uncommon for at least one demon a week to confess their undying love to him-- something he politely yet firmly declines. but it's foolish to assume that a man such as him doesn't have needs or desires. lucifer oozes sex appeal with just a heated glance, and most of the time he doesn't even need to speak before the demon in his sights is crossing the room at lord diavolo's party to meet with him. he politely excuses himself from the prince's side to escort the lucky demon somewhere private. there's no romance in his touches, but there is passion, all lust and want, as he uses his teeth to yank his glove off and roughly caresses the demon's quivering sex. he's not above using spit as lubrication, it falling from his lips with husky taunts as he lines himself up with their hole, now thoroughly slick with with their juices and his saliva, pushing in carefully as to not cause any pain. his gloved hand clamps over their mouth while the exposed one reaches forward to toy with their sex. he groans when they clench around him, then buries his face in their neck as he begins to fuck them from behind into a wall, or bookshelf, or whatever's closest. he murmurs filth in their ear as he fucks them ruthlessly, their muffled cries of pleasure meeting and dying against his palm. they continue until he's satisfied, until cum dribbles out of their tight hole and forms creamy rings around the base of his cock. he pulls their underwear up with a swat against their ass and tells them not to make a mess that barbatos will have to clean later. he stalks off to find a bathroom to freshen up in-- if they're lucky, they'll hear from him again in the future.

lucifer, who can set his pride aside for you. you've wormed your way into his heart, somehow, charming him during the exchange program with a combination of persistence and genuine care. he won't admit he's smitten, for he is far too proud to bicker with his brothers for your attention. you'll have to see it yourself. notice the way he looks at you from across the room and acknowledges you with a nod, or the brush of his hand against your arm as he passes you in the hallway, or the way he'll decline a call just to hear you speak a little longer. his ballroom rendezvous cease almost instantaneously, without his notice-- the demons may try to catch his eye again, but his ruby gaze never strays from you, from watching you sway in his arms on the dancefloor. he's head over heels. fuck, he's so in love with you it hurts. nights like these peel back the layers of the avatar of pride and let the rest of the world get a glimpse at the sides of him reserved just for you. all for you.

lucifer, who loves nights like these. the two of you are intertwined in his office, you sat on his lap as he sips lazily at a mixture of demonus and gold hellfire newt syrup. his blood pumps loudly in his ears but all he can see is you. you don't give him a command to cancel the syrup's effects, but he doesn't mind-- you command him with your hands, with your eyes as you run your fingers along his body. his crawl up your side before cradling the back of your head, pulling you into a heated kiss. your body melts into his like wax under a flame, conforming to the curves and planes of his body like they were made for you, fuck, Father must have made him for you. why else would you feel so perfect in his arms? why else would he have been damned, fallen from the celestial realm for defending love between human and a supernatural being, fated to experience it himself? there's an invisible string tying the two of you together. he wears it like a badge of honor. he'd let you tie him up with it if you kept grinding your hips against his like that, tongue lapping at the skin of his throat as you mark him. he can't bring himself to care about the taunts he'll endure tomorrow. lord diavolo's curious looks and pointed questions mean nothing when he has you on top of him. he's drunk on your love, surely, demonus and syrup blended in his veins paling in comparison to the love he has for you. he'd do it all again, fall to hell, lose his life if it meant you'd moan like that as he scissors his fingers in your hole, wet with your intertwined saliva, his precum, and your slick, the juices glinting in the firelight as he pushes them in and out of you. he won't stop until you're cumming around his fingers. he'd normally toy with you longer, but he's honestly so overwhelmed by the heat of your love that he feels he might fully go insane if he's not inside you within the next minute. you align yourself over his weeping cock and ease yourself down. he moans, loudly, enough for someone nearby to hear. lucifer doesn't give a shit. your hands find his and your fingers intertwine, stabilizing you enough to begin lovingly, carefully bouncing yourself on his cock. he's been thoroughly damned, that he's sure of, but this is truly the closest thing to heaven he'll ever see again-- your love is worth a thousand angels, a million glimpses into the celestial realm. and it's all his, just as he's all yours.

taglist for this series: @the-demonus-aunt // @scienceisfornerds // @hostilemakeover // @snow-fall1 // @kachan890 // @rphantom1 // @respitable

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