#i am Normal about him and do not have a deep desire to watch Lucifer [REDACTED INFORMATION]. I’m sooo normal about him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

violet-lazer · 2 years

Text

Reciprocity

Content / Warnings : Secondo/Reader, Explicit, Gender-Neutral Reader, Oral Sex, Birthday Smut, Soft-ish Secondo, 4.8k words. Thanks, please enjoy! (AO3)

Secondo discovers it's your birthday, and is more displeased than he expects that you haven't told him. For my lovely friend @ghoulymadge 🥀

Secondo notices. It’s the instinct, the knack, the guiding hand of Lucifer on his shoulder. It’s his talent for seeing which eyes in the crowd are most desperate for his to meet them, which Siblings give him a wide berth in the corridor, which abysmal move Copia is about to play during card games. And today, Secondo noticed that the leftmost side of the third pew was vacant at his afternoon sermon. Unusual.

In the hour or so since his sermon concluded, Secondo has been stalking the corridors, contemplative. It’s certainly not that he’s looking for someone. It’s not that he’s looking for you. It’s simply that it’s exceedingly uncommon for him not to spy you in that third pew, rosary draped over your fingers, listening in-- well, if it wasn’t rapture it was certainly a very good imitation. You are always first on your knees to accept communion. You always meet his gaze.

Presently, Secondo’s contemplation sees him circling back to the chapel in time for Terzo’s Mass to conclude. Settling against a pillar, he watches as the congregation begin to file out, accepting their scattered greetings with a polite nod. He waits for the crowd to thin and strides into the chapel proper.

There are a few Siblings lingering by the chancel, some tidying, some chatting, one tending to what appears to be a rather large red wine stain on the floor. Secondo sighs. From the altar, Terzo raises an eyebrow.

“Oh. What do you want?”

“You have been working on your manners, I see.”

Terzo shrugs. “I aim to please. Since we are in polite company-” he gestures loosely at the remaining Siblings- “let me start again. What can I do for you on this fine afternoon?”

Secondo relents. “I am…looking for someone. Someone who usually only attends my sermons. I thought, perhaps, something may have happened to their standards, and was concerned that I might find them here.”

“Biting,” Terzo says. “Very good. I see, you are upset that your favourite has abandoned you today.”

Secondo folds his arms. “I do not have favourites.” “Then why do I know precisely who you are talking about, hm?” Terzo scoffs, gathering some papers from the altar and handing them to a waiting Sibling. “I saw the two of you talking the other night and could have sworn I heard you ask them a personal question. Unprecedented.”

It’s not that Secondo doesn’t have admirers. Lovers. Comes with the job, the title. It’s just that, as the years go on, he’s becoming tired of deciphering intent.

He has a reputation. All of the Papas do. It’s that shared folklore of the clergy, woven into lore by threads of shared conversations, retellings of sexual encounters, speculation into their personal lives. Ask a Sibling? Secondo was… brusque. Direct. Uncompromising. Difficult to get to know. And people love a challenge.

Usually, it’s obvious and telegraphed; the Siblings who approach him like a puzzle. The attempts to sidle up to him in the library, probe him with questions, to earn an invite into his bed. At this point it’s almost amusing, and Secondo is normally content to entertain them for the night, sending them home well-fucked and pleased with themselves. Good for them if they think they know the first thing about him afterwards.

But, you know, it’s wearing a little thin. There’s a fine line between casual for casual’s sake and casual to avoid disappointment. Secondo is familiar with disappointment, he carries it around with him in a deep, bone-aching weariness, and has no desire to add more weight.

Last week, you’d turned to leave after one of your post-Mass conversations and he’d almost followed you. It had startled him, a frown settling onto his face as he watched you go. Ask him, and he wouldn’t say you were close- you speak a few times a week, post-sermon, or when you see one another in the halls. It’s been a few months of this, since you devoted yourself to his sermons- I think you might be the one, Papa- and as reticent as he is, Secondo…enjoys you. He allows you to linger after Mass where he encourages others to go about their day, he packs his things more slowly when you do stay so he might entertain your questions. Your enquiries about his personal time don’t seem transactional, and to his retrospective regret, his tongue is looser when it’s you doing the asking. But, he thinks, perhaps that’s as far as it should go. After all, isn’t it better not to want, truly want something? Aren’t you hoisting yourself for a fall?

The Sibling attending to the spilled wine raises their head, and Secondo notes that this is definitely a situation where attempted cleanup merely spreads the problem around.

“I know who you’re on about,” they say, abandoning their sponge. “They’ve booked the day off. It’s their birthday.”

“Ah,” Secondo says. This feels like pertinent information. Should he know that? There’s a tug in his chest that tells him he should. Had you told him? No. He would’ve remembered. Why hadn’t you told him?

Terzo shakes his head disapprovingly.

“Ooh, that’s terrible. You should’ve known that.”

“I did.”

It’s too early in the day for such an obvious lie, but Secondo’s priorities have taken a sharp turn to the left. He utters a quick thanks to the Sibling then turns on his heel, marching out of the chapel and through the winding corridors of the Ministry.

He knows the living quarters well. To clarify, he knows the exact position of the handle on the oak bedroom doors when reaching for it in the dark with someone pressed eagerly against him, and he knows how many steps it is from threshold to bed. It’s been others, but it’s not been you.

Once, he thinks, striding down the hallway towards your room, once it might’ve been you. One harsh night last month you’d crossed paths in the corridor - cold tonight isn’t it, Papa? - and he’d dropped into conversation so readily he’d ended up following you to the living quarters. You converse with an ease that almost circles to instil unease in him, it’s so unfamiliar. For Lucifer’s sake, he’d told you about his bath. A single comment from you about the chill, and the sight of you wrapping your arms around yourself to retain heat, and he’d told you about his bath. Information that he does not divulge readily, but there it was, one more confession you’d pulled out of him with obscene simplicity. There’s a very nice bathroom in Secondo’s quarters, and he’s managed to keep it quiet. It’s not the perfectly serviceable ensuite he directs any nocturnal guests or visitors to, it’s the box room he had refitted on the sly when most of the senior clergy were at an awful team-building weekend a few years ago. And he…told you about it. There, outside your room, watching you shiver.

You’d laughed at the revelation, joked about him inviting you over to take a bath. So bold, but isn’t that what jokes are for? Testing the waters? Secondo had stopped to let his eyes rove over you, to let his mind wander, to imagine the two of you in his most sacred of places; wet, naked, him fucking you over the bathroom counter. And then, despite himself, he bade you goodnight.

Anyway. Secondo knows exactly which door to stop in front of. He gives a sharp knock, and waits for a response. And waits. And- well, he’s waited a respectable twenty-five seconds. Perhaps you’re out. Or perhaps something is wrong?

The thought has barely crossed his mind and his gloved hand is reaching for the door handle. Immediately he catches himself- come on. The Ministry is usually safe, as long as you don’t inadvertently stumble into the path of whatever nonsense the ghouls have going on at any given time. You were fine. Probably. Hm.

It’s a…persistent thought, and it’s gnawing at the back of Secondo’s brain. You haven’t answered the door and it’s been, what, a full minute and a half? He should wait. Or knock again, perhaps. He definitely shouldn’t try the door.

He tries the door. It’s unlocked, and easing it open, Secondo lets himself in. He steps into the room- slightly messy, lived-in, but nothing sets off any alarm bells. It’s dim in here, a lone crack in your curtains allowing a thin stream of afternoon sunlight through and as his gaze pans over to your bed- ah- there you are. Taking a few steps closer, he can see you half-entangled in a thin blanket, curled onto your side, and the steady rise and fall of your chest indicates you’re sound asleep. Hm. Not dead then. Well. At least you’re safe.

And then you stir, spot Secondo towering over you, and bolt upright.

“Fucking hell-”

Now. Objectively, the optics on this one aren’t great. Secondo takes a step back.

“I am incredibly sorry,” he says. “I was worried.”

The words fall from his lips too quickly, too honestly.

“Oh,” you say, doing an impressive job of regulating your breathing. “I’m sorry, Papa. I’m up, I was just…napping.”

He regards you- flushed, separating yourself from your blanket, straightening your clothes. You look up at him in earnest. It is a good angle. Seeing you like this, sleepy and dishevelled, in your room amongst all your personal things, he almost feels like he’s crossed a boundary. Secondo clears his throat.

“It is your birthday. You did not tell me,” Secondo says plainly. It isn’t an accusation, but there’s a bite that causes you to lower your eyes from his. There’s something in him that feels…entitled to that information, as unfair as that may be. It isn’t particularly sensitive information. Your friends would know. Acquaintances, even. Has he misread your attention, placed more weight on your interactions than he should have? Set himself up, once more?

No, it’s not your fault. He could have asked. Taking a breath, he tempers his tone.

“To clarify, you did not have to tell me,” he says. “However, I would have liked to have known.”

“To be honest, Papa,” you say, dragging your eyes back up to meet his, “I’m not really in the habit of celebrating my birthday. It’s… I don’t…”

“There does not have to be a reason.”

You give him a small, grateful smile. “Anyway,” you continue, “I didn’t see the point of bringing it up, really. I doubt you’d want to spend the day with me, you’re a busy man.”

Slowly, he steps forwards and takes a seat on the edge of your bed. At once, you manoeuvre yourself closer to him. Instinct. The sight lights a fire in the pit of his stomach.

“Busy indeed. And yet, here I am.”

Slotted neatly and deliberately alongside several particularly dry-looking Luciferian texts on Secondo’s bookshelf, there is a list handwritten on good, weighty paper. It’s Secondo’s gift list. Secondo is a good gift-giver, deriving no end of pleasure from lavishing gifts on those who have earned it. Now, it is a relatively short list- a few friends from his past, senior clergy (mostly out of pure obligation), Siblings who made a particular impression, Terzo’s name crossed out and rewritten multiple times with varying degrees of vitriol. And there at the bottom is your name in neat, thoughtful cursive. If he’d known…

“Why are you here, Papa?”

Your voice snaps him back to the present. You’re leaning forwards, towards him. Meeting his eyes, the way he likes.

This is the dance, isn’t it? The precipice? The leading question leading to his mouth on yours? He wants to dance with you. But he has to ensure you’re a willing partner.

“I want to do something for you,” he says, reaching out with one gloved hand to ghost your cheek with his fingers. You lean into his touch. Good. “A gift.”

“You don’t have to get me anything,” you say.

“I want to do something for you,” he reiterates. “I can scarcely believe I am saying this, but I will permit you to use my bath.”

“Oh,” you say, eyes widening. “I was joking the other week, I didn’t actually expect- but yes, that would be lovely.”

Secondo lets his fingers trail downwards, tracing your jaw gently. If not for his gloves he’d be able to feel the warmth of you.

“On my terms,” he continues. “I am going to be very direct with you, so listen.”

“I’m listening, Papa.”

So attentive.

“In one hour, you are going to come to my quarters. You are going to knock. If you knock twice, I will let you in, and then I will leave you to the bath I have drawn for you. Take your time. But not too much time, hm? I will give you two hours, and then I want my bathroom back, yes?” You nod your assent. He fixes you with a firm, deliberate gaze.

“Now. Pay attention. If you knock three times, I will let you in, I will bathe you, and then I am going to fuck you. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you say immediately, half-breathless. You’ve been waiting, haven’t you? Secondo can feel it, the change in the air that accompanies the sprawl of new possibilities running through your mind.

“Think about it,” he says. “One hour.”

Swiftly, he stands, gives you a curt nod and turns to leave.

“Wait,” you call after him. He turns back to you, despite feeling the sting of an impactful exit cut short.

“Hm?”

“I thought you weren’t interested,” you confess.

Ah. There it is, the consequence of his reluctance to spoil a good thing. Or, more accurately, his idea of a good thing, and the terrifying thought that the reality might be very different. So yes, if he’s honest, he’s been ignoring your glances and missing opportunities to invite you to bed. But there’s only so long the inevitable can be delayed. There’s a thrum inside him when you’re within arm's reach that’s impossible to resist and, well, when Lucifer gives you a hint you should take it.

“No.” Secondo reaches down, thumb brushing your lip. He wants his fingers in your mouth. “I am interested. Perhaps too much.”

And then he leaves you.

You’re about three minutes early. Secondo heard your approach, deliberate steps on the stone floor, and then…silence. He supposes you’re waiting for the hour to be up proper, lest you look too…eager? That is, assuming, you would be taking him up on his offer of some personal attention. Now, he’s ready for you to take the solitary option, if that’s what you want. It’s fine. It’s alright. There’s certainly no pang that cuts through his chest when he thinks about the possibility of you not reciprocating his desire. Although, he thinks, taking stock of himself in the mirror, it would be a bit of a waste.

He’s shed his robe in lieu of a fitted black-button down shirt, sleeves half-rolled. Black trousers and dress shoes. Unassuming, timeless. But he’s touched up his paint; it’s the face he knows you like. Not too bad for an old man. He glances at the clock- ah. It’s time. He watches the door, waiting for you to announce yourself.

You knock. Once. Twice. And then again. Secondo opens the door. The nerves emanating from you are palpable but, regardless, you give him a smile and Secondo can feel his heart beating in his throat. You’re matching him in black, and he can’t help but let his eyes wander over you, searching, looking for points of access. But before that-

“Come with me,” he says, holding out his hand, sparing you the agony of filling the silence. You slip your hand into his and he leads you into the room, towards the bathroom, noting your gaze roaming to take in your surroundings before your eyes settle on the bed. Later. Secondo pulls you gently through the next doorway and into his bathroom. The secret one.

It’s a nice bathroom, if he says so himself. All Italian marble and gold furnishings, but in a way that he tells himself is on the right side of the tasteful/tacky border. There are a few plants, gifts from Primo, that he’s doing his best to keep alive, and in the centre of the room, the star of the show, an excessively large marble bathtub. Prior to your arrival, he’d spent a good forty minutes here, setting the scene, because if Secondo is anything, he is a good host. And when he commits, he commits. So you arrive to find the room lit by candlelight, bath full and waiting for you, a tiny wireless radio tuned to a station playing soft instrumentals. It’s worth the effort- when you look at him, half-awestruck, he realises he’s been holding his breath. Tightening his grip on your hand, he leads you further into the room.

“I can see why you want to keep this to yourself,” you say, running your fingers along the edge of the bath. Secondo hums.

“You understand. I do not wish for this to become common knowledge, yes? Let it be our secret.”

“Of course,” you say. There’s a pause, and you appear to be at a bit of a loss at what to say next. Secondo is happy to lead.

“Do you wish to begin?”

“Yes,” you say, leaning against the edge of the bath. “What should I…”

“Undress for me,” he says, low and steady.

You nod, setting to work on your buttons, lowering your gaze. You work slowly, and after a moment, pause.

“Sorry, I’m a bit self-conscious,” you confess. Secondo closes the distance between you, tipping your jaw up with one hand so you meet his eyes.

“I do not want you to be uncomfortable. May I help?”

“Yes.”

Gently, his hands run down your shoulders, your arms, before he locates the fastenings of your clothes and works them undone. He strips you with practised ease, touching you only enough to help you shed your garments, his face serious, focused. When he catches your eye you’re regarding him with a quiet bemusement. He’s seen it before. You’re wondering why he’s not fondling you, kissing you. But Secondo has his rituals. His rules. If he touches you now you’ll never make it to the bath and all of his preparation will be for naught. He helps you shift your underwear down your legs. Satanas-

There you are, gorgeous and exposed, every inch, for him. Secondo’s cock aches against his trousers and the simmer of desire in the pit of his stomach is threatening to overspill. You reach out to touch his cheek, fingers grazing his skin.

Actually, fuck the rituals. Slipping his arms around your waist, he pulls you to his chest and kisses you. You sink into him, mouth opening to accept his tongue, soft moan escaping you. He feels your hands meet at the back of his neck, pulling him closer. Even through his clothes he can feel your heat, your want, and he kisses you hungrily, tongue moving against yours in lascivious rhythm.

When he’s sated, he pulls back. You’re flushed, breaths heavy, pressed so tightly against him his cock must surely be digging uncomfortably into you. Well, you don’t seem to be complaining. Secondo allows himself to press another kiss to your lips.

“You are quite the distraction,” he says, taking your hand. “Now get in the bath.”

Biting your lip and doing a poor job of disguising your smile, you let him help you into the bath. As you relax into the water, you let out a deep sigh, allowing your head to rest back against the marble. Secondo can’t take his eyes off you, and is doing absolutely nothing to hide the fact. He is content for now, perched at the edge of the bath, watching you unwind. After a few moments, you lift your head and eye him suspiciously.

“Yes?” he says.

“How did you know it was my birthday?”

Secondo clears his throat. “Ah. I made some enquiries as to your location. One of Terzo’s hangers-on informed me.”

You laugh. “I’ll tell them you said that.”

Secondo wonders if you’ve noticed you’ve dropped the Papa. It doesn’t feel like a purposeful omission, more an indication of…comfort. He doesn’t mind a slip in decorum, not here. Not when you’re looking at him like that.

“I feel,” you continue- you’re talkative like this- “as though you should also be… not dressed.”

Secondo cocks his head. “Impatient. You will see more than enough of me soon enough. Although…”

Slowly, under your watchful eye, he makes a show of removing one glove, and then the other. He rests them on the edge of the bath, and reaches for the washcloth and soap he’s set out. It’s a fancy soap Terzo had foisted upon him- with no regard to the fact that he wasn’t a florals person- but Secondo thinks it might be rather pleasing on you.

“Let me take care of you,” he says, shifting to kneel at your side.

You lean up to meet him and he bathes you, thoroughly, tenderly. Again, he’s restraining himself, tempering his desire as he runs his hands over you. He allows himself small pleasures- a kiss pressed to your hand, your shoulder, the inside of your ankle as you manoeuvre to grant him access to your legs. He’s working methodically, but his pace slows as he approaches your inner thighs. There was nothing wrong with lingering there, yes? Your breaths are sharper, anticipant, but he’s not going to touch you where you want to be touched. Not yet. He pulls back and you can’t hide the frustrated grunt that escapes you. Secondo bites down a smile.

“Are you sated?” he says. No, is the answer he wants. You tilt your head.

“In the bath way, yes.”

He looks at you for a long moment. “I see. Then let me attend to your other needs.”

Secondo extends a hand and you waste no time in taking it. Pulling you up, he reaches for a towel and helps you dry off. Without a moment of consideration, he fetches his bathrobe from a hanger and offers it to you. You raise an eyebrow. It’s a nice robe. Stepping out of the bath, you shrug it on and Secondo reaches around you wordlessly to tie the belt.

“This feels more even, hm?” he says. “You are not so exposed?”

“Mm,” you hum, giving him a gentle smile. It’s a smile he wouldn’t mind seeing more often. But- to business. Leading you to the bedroom, he encourages you to take a seat on the edge of his bed, positioning himself next to you.

“Before we begin, let us set some expectations, yes? I want you to enjoy yourself. I also want to fuck every last drop of need out of you, and I want to do it with great enthusiasm. So if you are uncomfortable with anything I am doing you must tell me, and I will stop. Alright?”

You nod. “I will. I would.”

“Good. I enjoy taking the lead. Are you content with that?”

He’s studying you for any signs of hesitation, but he’s finding nothing. Just you, so torturously close and leaning closer, looking especially fuckable in his bathrobe (it’s monogrammed), hanging onto his every word.

“I want you to tell me what to do,” you say plainly. “And I want you to use me however you wish.”

Well. If that wasn’t what he dreamed of hearing. You’re going to be so good for him. Secondo takes your face in his hands, drawing you close.

“Very well. Then permit me to be selfish. I was denied the privilege of seeing you on your knees today.”

Obediently, you slip from the bed and settle on your knees before Secondo. Your hands run up his thighs and his cock twitches. This is the view.

“Watch. Do not touch,” he says, languidly unbuckling his belt and shifting his trousers down to unsheath himself. You’re so close that his cock, slick with precum, grazes your cheek. You’re watching him with a quiet desperation, but you remain still.

“Open your mouth,” he says, gripping the base of his shaft to guide it towards you as you obey. He locks eyes with you. And then he pushes his cock into your mouth.

You’re devout at his altar, accepting him as far down your throat as you can manage, lips tight around him. He groans, bucking up into you, your hot, wet mouth sending his desire into the stratosphere. You look so good sucking him off, making the most obscene sounds as you fuck him with your mouth. Pulling back, you grasp his shaft and begin to work him manually, tongue painting eager strokes along his cock. Fucking hell, you have been waiting for this. You’re so impatient, so obedient, you’re taking more of him than you can handle, tears pricking at your eyes, fuck, you’re so good, so-

He pulls out of your mouth and you whine at the loss of him, breathless, face thoroughly fucked.

“Forgive me,” Secondo says, catching his breath. “I want you to come first.”

Taking your hands, he stands, pulling you up onto your feet. Swiftly, his fingers untie the bathrobe and he pushes it from your shoulders, laying you bare once again before him. He kisses a trail down your exposed neck, sighing deeply when he comes to rest at your collarbone.

“I’m going to fuck you now,” he says, drawing back to look you in the eyes.

“Please,” you say, voice tinged with need.

“On the bed,” he says, and you scramble onto the bed, watching him as he steps out of his trousers and lowers himself over you, bracing himself on his forearms. Secondo kisses you again. It’s deeper than he’d usually permit, needy, insistent. You wrap your legs around him and he can feel your fingers working on the buttons of his shirt; he gladly helps you discard it. Finally, there’s nothing between you, his chest pressed against yours; Secondo swears he can feel your heartbeat but it may be his own hammering in his chest. He’s aching to be inside you. He needs friction. His cock is leaking precum onto your belly.

Secondo draws back onto his knees, hands spreading your legs, sliding down your thighs. With one hand he slicks his fingers with his own precum, and then guides them to your entrance, pressing against the flesh. You stifle a moan. Hmm, that won’t do. Gently, he pushes a finger into you, eliciting a desperate groan. That’s more like it. Once he’s satisfied you can take it, he adds another finger, working you open, warming you up. You’re a mess underneath him, swearing, rutting up into his fingers. “Please,” you manage. Well, since you asked so nicely. You’ve waited long enough.

Cock in hand, Secondo steadies your legs and slowly, deliberately, presses into you.

“Fuck,” you moan, your head hitting the pillow. Fuck, indeed. You’re so tight around him, such a good, eager hole. At first, he fucks into you lazily, hips rolling against yours in measured, practiced rhythm, but Lucifer he’s been wating for this for so long and you’re squeezing his cock so perfectly and soon he’s taking you, right to the hilt in messy, animalistic strokes. His fingers are digging into your thighs and you’re an absolute state underneath him, hands twisting into the duvet as Secondo fucks you senseless.

“Touch yourself,” he growls. You nod weakly, begin to work yourself. It’s not going to take much, you’re twitching around him already. He’s going to ruin you. He tries to settle into a more regular tempo, but he can’t hold it for long.

“I’m going to come,” you say, breathless.

“Come for me,” he orders, cock pulsing, desperate for release. It’s a good thing you’re close because there’s no chance he’ll last.

“Papa-” and then he feels you tighten around him, gasping as you come, breath ragged. He fucks you through your orgasm before chasing his own release, hips snapping hard against yours as he finishes inside you, pumps you full.

Shakily, he withdraws from you, and sinks down next to you on the bed. He takes your hand and places it on his chest so you can feel his heart thundering.

“Should I go?” you say quietly.

Secondo lifts his head. You’ve heard the routine, then. That he gently encourages his lovers not to get too comfortable after the act. That you shouldn’t expect to stay until morning. And you came anyway. He lets his head drop onto your shoulder.

“No,” he says. “Stay.” “Hmm,” he hears you muse. “Does that mean you’re going to fuck me again? It is my birthday.”

He lifts his head, propping himself up on his side to look at you. It’s not such a bad sight, you tangled in his sheets. He wouldn’t mind making a habit of it. And if he’s setting himself up for a fall, well. Perhaps some things are worth falling for.

#the band ghost #ghost fanfiction #papa emeritus ii #papa emeritus ii x reader #papa emeritus iii #secondo #secondo x reader #the band ghost fanfic

518 notes · View notes

obey-me-headquarters · 2 years

Text

Yall I am not done talking about the pet au. Piggybacking off my last post, who else do you think gets extremely stressed when they realize they messed up/aren't doing their Best? My money is on Lucifer and Barbatos.

Lucifer takes such pride in what he does as a companion type, especially when you praise him for his work. So when he accidental sleeps in too late and realizes he doesn't have time to do all his chores before you come home, he instantly panics. He begins rushing throughout the house, desperately cleaning/cooking/organizing things. All seems to be going well until he grabs the hot pan from the oven without putting mitts on and drops it. The glass pan shatters into a million pieces and Lucifer heart sinks. He just stands there, barely able to comprehend what just happened. Lucifer never broke anything of his owners before, he takes pride in being not one of *those* pets. Who break and cause messes.

It isn't until he hears the jingle of keys and a door being opened does he snap out of it. He dives for the broken pieces. You're met with a demon whose normally very prideful and a bit stuck up, kneeling on the ground picking up broken glasses with his bare hands.

It takes a bit of convincing, but you get Lucifer to put down the glass and tell you what happened. Even when you reinsure that it's OK, you're not mad, everyone sleeps in some times. You wouldn't have been angry even if he did none of the chores. Lucifer still feels guilty, especially when you seem so concerned about his burnt hands. He tries to convince you not to treat them, that they're a punishment to himself to be more careful, but you don't let him have that.

----

Barbatos has been a companion type for a very, very long time. Which means he basically mastered the craft. He knows how to be quiet and listen for commands. He knows how to stay in one spot for hours. He knows how to brew tea perfectly. And he even knows how to make polite conversation if he owner desires that.

So suffice to say, Barbatos isn't that used to fucking up. He knows how to take punishment, how to set there and not beg for mercy. But actually earning it? No way.

So that's why this is so anxiety inducing. He never fucked up making tea before, but for some reason he decided that this moment is the prefect time to let his mind wander. He doesn't even realize he burnt the tea. He usually watches over the tea diligently to make sure it's the prefect blend, but this time didn't notice until the tea is a deep black. He could remake the tea? Better to have it be a bit late than bitter and undrinkable.

But sparing a glance at the tea box, he notices that this is the last of the tea. The tea you were excited to show to your friends because Barbatos makes it so well. A heavy weight settles over his chest, a weight he almost forgotten.

Anxiety.

It's been a long time since he got punished, before you taken him in. You were so nice, and he was so obedient that you never had a reason to punish him before. But this? This is definitely something he should be punished before. It's a bit ironic, Barbatos isn't afraid about the punishment as much as disappointing you. You praised him so well in front of his friends, it will sting for you to punish him infront of them.

Pouring the tea into a glass, he could at least explain himself. It would be better than to pretend that nothing is wrong and serve you and your guests brunt tea. At least it shows he know he fucked up and is usually better than this.

But apparently the universe is out to get him today, because before he can even open his mouth to apologize he trips and spills the glass all over you.

Barbatos doesn't move for a single moment when he hit the ground. Just to let the terror and knowledge that yup, you're getting rid of him, to course through his body. When he looks up and sees the tea staining your outfit - your new outfit that you brought to show off to your friends, Barbatos doesn't have it in him to feel anymore afraid.

He doesn't bother standing up, knowing that you'll force him to knees in an instant. Crawling over to your chair to kneel infront of it.

"I'm sorry owner. I can only offer my deepest apologies to you. I know you must punish me now. Whatever you decide to do I will obey, just say the word."

Barbatos can barely finish his speech before you tackle him in a hug. Wrapping your arms around him you tell him over and over again that it's ok! The tea wasn't even hot! It was a mistake! You're not angry and you're not going to punish him!

Barbatos tries to gently agure back, citing your guests and saying that he disrespected you infront of them, but you wave him off. Taking his hand you lead him back to your room and have him sit on your bed while you change your outfit. All the while telling him that it's OK, you know things were different in his old homes, but it's not like that here. You tell him to lay down and relax as you can tell he's feeling a bit anxious and that you'll come and check up on him later. He didn't even notice that he was shaking.

Afterwards Barbatos will try and punish himself since you wouldn't. He'll make himself less food at meal times, and he'll give himself extra chores. But you notice quick and gently scold him for it. Barbatos doesn't understand you, scolding him for not taking care of himself, but being completely OK with him disrespecting you and spilling tea on you. But, since you seem so keen on keeping him, he's willing to learn.

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me barb #obey me barbatos #obey me pet au #my post

271 notes · View notes

fics-of-culture · 3 years

Note

Could I request a one shot with gabriel or lucifer and an alt/goth reader? I honestly don’t have much plotwise, just want some goth representation 💕 thank u 💕

Lucifer x Goth/Alt Gender Neutral Reader

A/N: Just a small little indulgent Luci fic cause he makes me weak. Also I am not goth or alt so I don’t really know how to write for them? But I tried my best.

Words: 1,025

You sighed for possibly the 20th time in the past hour. You just shot down another dick who assumed that just because you were goth/alt you would be easy to get into bed. Ultimately, you were not impressed with the club scene tonight. You thought it might be nice to get out, dress up in your best tight black outfit, put on your hottest makeup and maybe meet some fun people. But apparently the only people who were out today were creeps. You dropped your face into your open palm as you leaned against the bar you were sat at. You let your dark nails tap impatiently against the glass of your drink.

“Not an incredibly impressive lot, are they?” A smooth voice drawls out beside you. You turned to the voice to your right and you were met with ice blue eyes. You couldn’t help but let your confusion show on your face. There hadn’t been anyone in that seat just a moment ago. And you hadn’t heard anyone walk up. Blue eyes just chuckled at your confusion. “Did I scare you?” The smirk he gave you after saying this was nothing short of… demonic. You couldn’t help the chill that creeped up your spine when he spoke. In fact, you started feeling oddly cold ever since this conversation started. You had to mentally steel yourself, you weren’t usually one to let someone get under your skin. You sat up straight as you shot back at him.

“Not scared, just surprised at the audacity you had to approach me.” You couldn’t help but feel that you were pushing your luck somehow, but you couldn’t help yourself. To your surprise, that earned a brief chuckle from your new companion. You used this moment to take in more of his appearance. Pale skin, perfectly messy blond hair, the perfect amount of stubble all wrapped together in a brown leather jacket. You briefly remember a quote you read long ago about the devil being beautiful. You watched as the corners of your nameless companion’s lips slid up into a sinful smirk. If you didn’t know any better you'd say he was in your head, hearing every sinful thought you’d ever had. Before you could utter another word, blue eyes was flagging down the bartender and ordering you another drink. “I didn’t ask you to buy me a drink.” You spoke evenly, not wanting to betray your desire for the man beside you.

“No, but you wanted me to.” You were taken aback by the man’s confidence. He was right of course, but you didn’t want him to know that. So you just rolled your eyes and accepted the drink that was placed before you.

“You have no way of knowing that.” You challenge him. He leans in to you as though he’s about to share a dark secret.

“Honey, I know more about you than you do.” He sends a cocky wink your way before pulling away. You can’t ignore the small part of your brain that completely believes him.

“And what do you know about me?” You ask, desperately trying to keep your confident mask up.

“I know that you’re attracted to me, even though I make you nervous. I know that you’re bored of your dull life. You want an adventure. That’s part of why I approached you tonight.” The man lets his fingers trail gently up your arm as he speaks, seeming unconcerned with your rigid posture.

“And how exactly do you know all this?” You ask, slightly breathless.

“Because I am a powerful being that can read your mind.” You scoff at the notion. “See, you laugh, but deep down you know you want me to be telling the truth. Meeting an immortal entity that has the power to read minds is much more interesting than your normal day to day, don’t you think?” He places his head on his hand as he speaks to you, giving you a shockingly adorable look as he continues to speak.

“So you’re a vampire?” It’s his turn to scoff now. He raises his head again and sends you a playful glare.

“Don’t insult me sweetheart, you’re talking to one of the most dangerous beings on the planet here.” He shakes his head as if trying to rid himself of the apparently offensive comment.

“Who are you then?” As casually as the man beside you is acting, you must admit that you’re starting to feel nervous. You can’t help but feel that he has been nothing but honest with you so far. But if that is true, then why are you still talking to this incredibly dangerous individual? Surely it isn’t just because he’s attractive. And yet there is some part of you that is feeling a magnetic pull to the stranger.

“Promise you won’t get scared?” You nod. Waiting with baited breath. He leans in until he’s only a hair's width away from you and whispers in your ear. “Lucifer.” And when you turn to look him in the eyes you see his previously ice blue orbs turn red. You can’t help the wave of fear that washes over you, mixed with… something else.

“What do you want from me?” You whisper back, not trusting yourself to be able to speak normally without your voice wavering.

“I’ve been watching you for a while, little one.” His fingers reach up to stroke your hair. “I’m in the middle of taking over heaven. Long story. But when I do, I need a companion. Someone to rule by my side.” He drops a small kiss on your neck. “I want that person to be you.”

“Why me?” You whisper back to him. He pauses as he takes you in for a moment.

“Because, like I said, you��re bored of this life. And like me, I know you will rule with an iron fist.” You feel your lips slide into a grin as you listen to him speak. You don’t even feel ashamed by how quickly you answer.

“Yes.” Lucifer cracks a smile, and the two of you disappear. Leaving behind a half drunk glass of alcohol, ice steadily melting.

#reader insert #spn #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural reader insert #gn!reader #goth!reader #alt!reader #spn lucifer imagine #spn lucifer x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer imagine #lucifer #spn lucifer

113 notes · View notes

theinariakuma · 4 years

Text

FALLING FROM GRACE

Rated: SFW

Fandom: Obey Me!

Genre: Simeon x Female!MC

Theme: Corruption

A/N: No real trigger warnings that I can think of, just a bit of a Darker take on Simeon.

Spoilers for Chapter 16

As far as anyone knew, Simeon was loyal in his faith. He believed and followed like a good angel, despite having seen what happened in the Celestial War.

Lucifer and his brothers had been his friends. His family. Being forced to fight them had left a mark on his heart, one he hid deep within. Their fall and the death sentence on Lilith had been enough to shake his faith, to begin with.

Arriving in Devildom, he knew that it was likely not the best choice Michael could have made, but he knew he had to keep his façade on and continue to push through as Michael wanted. He would remain a loyal angel.

It had been the human that shook his faith further.

Humans were beings Angels were not really allowed to interfere with, so getting to spend time with them was a rare opportunity.

She was so full of faith… not in the Father, not in heaven or angels, but in all of the people she befriended.

“Simeon!” Her bright smile was enough to make him smile. The human was soft and sweet, despite the markings he sensed on her. She was bonded to the Avatars of the seven sins. Yet, the power did not seem to corrupt her.

“Good morning.” His smile was light, soft as he gazed at her. This young woman always made his heart seem to lighten, yet she always brought more and more questions to his mind. She made him question all he knew, all he tried to push down, and he knew that having these questions can lead to falling.

Unlike Lucifer and his siblings, Simeon had no real support system. If he fell, he was alone. That… scared him.

“Are you okay? You seem…” She hesitated, gazing up at him as she tilted her head, “I want to say sad, but it isn’t… quite that.” Her voice was soft, unable to find the word for it.

The surprise that flooded him was brief before it was covered in a mask. His fingers moved to gently take her hand, lifting soft fingers up as he leaned down, a soft kiss pressed to her knuckles. “Thank you for worrying about me, little feather.” His smile was soft, hiding the deeper feelings behind a wall of charm.

Her cheeks became slightly flushed, and Simeon was gripped with a desire to make her blush more. He knew that this human woman made him crave and pulled him further into temptation. After Lilith’s decisions, relationships with humans were banned among the Celestials. The Father did not want anyone to make Lilith’s mistake again because they grew too attached to a human.

On the RAD campus, he often saw her, typically with Satan or Mammon. He only had a couple of classes with the young woman. She was not all that magically inclined. Well, that wasn’t true... He heard from Asmo about how much power she held when Solomon had lent her some of his magic ability.

The level of magic she held made him curious… he knew her lineage. He did his research after he heard about her magic and despite Diavolo’s avoidance, he knew what they did. Simeon, despite knowing this, had no intention of reporting it. He believed in what they did, and why they did it. The Father may not have liked it, but Lilith deserved her life, whether as an angel or as a human. She did not deserve to be erased.

Today was… unusual. She was alone, sitting on a bench. No Mammon, no Satan. No one was with her. The campus had emptied out rather quickly, so there weren’t many people lingering around.

"May I?" He knew he should stay away.

"Simeon? Of course." Her smile didn't reach her eyes and it made him glance her over, making sure she wasn't injured. When he was sure there was none, he sat with her.

"What's wrong, little feather?" His fingers gently touched her cheek, brushing the soft skin slowly. He saw the way his touch lit a rose-colored blush on her cheeks.

"I… they treat me differently. Since they found out I'm a descendant of Lilith." Her voice was small. "Not so much Mammon, but everyone else does…" She felt she could trust Simeon, she had since she first met him, it was why she didn’t keep the truth about Lilith a secret.

Suddenly they all were very affectionate towards her. On one hand, it was nice… but they treated her like she was Lilith… and it bothered her. Because she wasn't any different, she was the same human girl that she was when she arrived.

"You're not Lilith." Simeon sat back, and for a moment the mask fell. His bright smile melted down into a small frown, eyes gazing forward.

The posture was something akin to Lucifer when he was frustrated. "I knew them… all that were up in the Celestial World. You and Lilith are similar, I cannot deny that fact. You both are kind and caring, you give people attention and hope. But… she made a choice and she risked a lot for it. She, whether they agree or not, became the catalyst to war, with her desire to save a human from illness." He heard the stories of why after she had died.

She was quiet, listening to him, all of her focus on him. She wasn’t used to Simeon being like this. This was different from how he normally was. He seemed… frustrated for her.

"You have…not hidden things like your feelings, even if they are scrutinized." He saw how open she was with her affection for the brothers. Even the slow-growing affection with Belphégor. "You love openly and honestly." His voice was low as he gently gripped her chin, having her gaze at him. His blue eyes were locked on hers.

Lips parted with a soft breath, "Simeon…?"

The way she said his name made him shiver as his thumb moved to stroke her skin. He felt so many things as he looked at her, watching her cheeks darken to match his favorite roses. Her eyes were wide and focused only on him.

The only place she should be looking at.

There was a possessiveness that gripped him, he wanted to taste her lips, to claim her sounds… and draw her gaze every time they passed. Above all else… he wanted all of her. Selfishly, greedily, wanted her.

The brothers had her love, her attention, had her. And he was jealous that they had such an amazing, beautiful woman at their back and they still didn't see her for herself. At least, not from only her actions. If it took knowing her heritage to finally see the woman she was, they should have been ashamed.

“Simeon?” Her voice was hesitant and soft, her fingers gently brushing over his wrist, the touch was light and hesitant.

“You deserve to be loved for who you are. Not who they see you as.” Simeon’s voice was low as his fingers pulled back until his hand closed around hers.

Her hand gently held his, even as his grip was firm around hers, her touch was light, almost as if her grip had tightened it would scare him off.

He took in her shy and surprised expression and his lips curled into a smile. “I believe I have overstepped.” He’d put the mask on and they’d pretend this never happened.

“I… don’t know why you pretend so much.” Her voice was soft, almost a whisper. She didn’t want people to hear it, to know this side of Simeon. If he had wanted this side openly shown, he would have. “But… I am your friend. You can be yourself with me, Simeon.” Her fingers turned in his grasp, squeezing his hand. No longer afraid of scaring him off. He’d given her a gift, whether he realized it or not.

His little feather was bolder than he expected. One bold action deserves another.

“Thank you, little feather.” He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “The brothers are excited because they miss Lilith. But do not let them confuse you.” His advice was gentle as the mask was carefully settled in place. “They’re all stubborn, but put your foot down, make sure they see that you are you and not her. And you won’t let them act like you are her beyond heritage.”

After a moment, he stood up from the bench, adjusting his cloak on his arms. “Be a good girl.” His voice was low, and something in the way he called her a good girl made the young woman squirm under his gaze. “If you need me, for any reason, you can always reach me on the phone… Even if I am not great with it.”

When he returned to the safety of his room, the door locked, safe from prying eyes, the mask fell once again. “Damnit.” His voice was hoarse as he looked into the mirror, fingers running through his hair. Every time he slipped up with his mask, it seemed to be harder to replace the next time. His eyes were darker, sharper. He hadn’t allowed his wings out in a while, and part of him was terrified to see them the same inky shade as Lucifer’s.

If they were like that, he knew there was no returning home.

In his mind, there was the image of the young woman he’d sat with earlier that day. If he did fall to corruption, fall from Grace as Lucifer and his brothers did it would be because the feelings he had for her.

#obey me #obey me swd #obey me sfw #obey me fanfiction #obey me fanfic #obey me simeon #simeon x mc #simeon x female mc #dark simeon #corruption

136 notes · View notes

thyme-writes · 3 years

Text

NSFW Lucifer fic

This was the first fic I wrote that spiraled my problems, aaaaaaand now I cant stop.

______________________________________________

Lucifer x Female MC

Summary:

"We'll continue this later" He says in a voice that's very soft, but just a tiny bit husky. I must have been standing there in awe, for the 4th time now, as he shot me a look when the door began to open and Barbatos came back in with refreshments. But inside I was screaming "Wait there’s more?!" My mind was racing, what more is he planning to give me, am I going insane?

Later, alone...

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep my hands off you?"

______________________________________________

I'd agreed to assist Lucifer with all the Halloween prep for a few reasons, for one, how could I say no to him between the ordering around and the cheeky smiles he knew I would agree. Two, it gives me more time with him which I'm always craving, so much lately.

But while waiting for the info on Diavolo for his party, "There's someone else who is special to me" he said to me. He stepped forward slowly and the look in his eyes slowed down time, my breathe caught when he reached up and around my head to sink his hand in the crook of my neck and leaned forward to kiss my lips. My body responded by leaning into the kiss but my breathing gave me away when I took a sharp intake of air as he stepped back. In 2 seconds flat my knees were weak and I knew my face must be burning red.

Over the time I've spent in the devildom he's flirted with me, charmed me with his smirks and been overly protective of me. That was very normal. Then it turned into more playful teasing, and lately he's gotten more physical. He wiped a crumb off my face last week at breakfast. I had woken up late so the boys were all gone, so I thought. I remember eating as quickly as possible when he walked in the room strode over to me with a gleam in his eye and wiped my cheek slowly and just lightly grazed my lower lip. I thought I was dreaming, he just chuckled at my disbelieving expression and walked away. Three days ago I was reaching for something a bit too high up in the kitchen and he came behind me and placed his gloved hands on my exposed waist to move me gently so he could reach what I was trying to get. And again, gave me a smirk and a chuckle as he walked away from my stiff body, which was heating up rapidly from such a tiny gesture. After school yesterday he was asking me questions about a lecture I attended, I was going over the important notes with him when he reached up to my chin to gently raise my head higher and said "you continue to impress me" and cocked his head just slightly to one side before releasing my face and strolling away. And yet again, I was frozen in place with the warmth of my belly growing.

"We'll continue this later" He says in a voice that's very soft, but just a tiny bit husky. I must have been standing there in awe, for the 4th time now, as he shot me a look when the door began to open and barbatos came back in with refreshments. But inside I was screaming "Wait there's more?!"My mind was racing, what more is he planning to give me, am I going insane? But I managed to pull myself together and focus, while stealing small glimpses of Lucifer while we were taking notes.

When we arrived back to the house he bounded inside firmly stating "MC, please follow me to my study so we can compare notes' ' without checking to ensure I was keeping pace he just strode through the halls seeming unabated. I followed, maybe not with the same confidence, but I kept up his pace.

Once in the study he set a chair next to his desk for me and shut the door behind me, I felt like he was running circles around me while I was moving slow as a snail, still patiently waiting for him to explain that kiss, what was that?! I gave myself a little shake and as I began to walk over to his desk, he came right back to where I stood with a pained expression on his face and walked so furiously toward me. I dropped my notebook and I began taking steps back when my back finally hit the door with a soft thud and he slammed his palm into the door right above my shoulder.

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep my hands off you?" he sighed in a dangerously sultry voice that ignited flames in my belly "You are so damn sexy" He breathed as he leaned in and got closer to the side of my face, my breathing was beginning to get ragged, and every word that came close to my lips died before they came out hearing him breath and feeling his warm breath on my skin. My face was burning hot and arousal was building up inside me so quickly I almost moaned and begged for more.

"You spend so much time assisting me" he brushed my hair away from my face and kissed my cheek. It was a hard kiss for my cheek and the pressure caused so much more heat in my body. My breath hitched and my legs felt as if they would give out any minute. My lips were parted and I was practically panting when he moved in closer to our bodies just barely touching. Then grabbing my hands with his and raising them just slightly above me. With a little pressure he pinned them against the door. I let out an audible gasp, but it came out more like a moan. The arousal in my belly was burning hot and my body was desperately begging to be touched.

"Tell me MC," he leaned in with a gleam in his eye looking like he was going to kiss me, then dipped his head to gently kiss my neck and this time a full on moan escaped my lips. "are you trying to please me?" he looked at me so fiercely, his eyes absolutely burning with desire. I would've said anything he wanted to hear in this moment just to have him tease me more. But it was a good chance to tell the truth, which was far hotter at that moment.

"Yes Lucifer," I breathed shakily, trying to shove the words out of my lips "I like pleasing you" . I wanted his mouth on me again so desperately that my body moved against his, my hips rolling against his hips, and I heard a low groan under his breath.

He pulled back one of his hands holding both of mine up with just one, with very little force as I was giving in to his every move. With his free hand he trailed his gloved finger down the side of my jaw, down my neck and just slowing down at the base of my cleavage sending shivers down my spine. I fought the urge to let my eyes roll back at his touch. "I want to reward you for being such a good girl," His voice took on a raspy deep tone. Then he popped open the top button on my shirt and my chest rose up a little urging him to go on "Would you like that MC?" He popped open the second button waiting for my answer.

"Please Lucifer" I managed to whimper and moan audibly enough for him to hear me and he pushed his body against me pinning me to the door. I could feel his erection hard against me and I gasped. In one motion he released my hands and they rested on his shoulders. He grabbed my legs pulling them up and wrapping them around his body. His fingers were gripping my thighs as he began kissing my lips, with such a gentle pace but I could feel him holding back. My hips instinctively tried to rock against him and he groaned into my mouth and bit my lower lip, shooting pain in the mix of my extreme arousal and I groaned back. "Take me please" I whimpered again. His eyes met mine and the look was pure hunger. He pulled back from the door supporting my weight as his hands slid over my ass gripping each cheek I moaned again.

He walked over to his desk and with one sweep pushed everything off to put me down on it. Once I was on the desk he stood a moment just looking at me, for a second it wasn't a devious hunger it was a look of admiration and he took in every piece of me. Feeling more confident I began unbuttoning the rest of my shirt and biting my lip while he watched me. He smirked and pulled his gloves off slowly then his jacket, and for a moment we were both just grinning watching each other undress slowly. He was pulling off his shirt when I was down to my panties and bra and he leaned in to kiss me hard, our mouths were both desperate, his hands dragging along my body sending electricity through me. He began undoing my bra, then his pants and had me stand up to watch me drop my panties to the floor as I watched his cock spring out of his pants. His cock was as gorgeous as he was, smooth with light veins pushing out, nice and thick and longer than I was used to. But my body ached the second I saw it.

Putting his hands on my shoulders he spun me around and begin biting and sucking the curve of my neck on one side making my eyes roll back in my head and reached his hands up around my body to cup my boobs and roll each nipple in his fingers and my body was aching now to have his cock inside me. I gasped from the stimulation and I felt like exploding. My ass grinding against him feeling his cock pressed between my cheeks. I couldn't believe I was here, Lucifer fully erect against my ass, ready to plow into me. The thought was exhilarating, but the feeling was pure delight.

One hand began trailing south when his fingers grazed my pussy lips which were very slick with my arousal and upon touching the wetness that took over my pussy lips I heard him let out a shuttered breath. As his finger slid down my folds I felt his cock twitch against my back and we both let out a groan "You’re soaking wet for me" he mused. I simply nodded my head as his fingers found my clit and began rubbing side to side making my legs convulse slightly. He slipped two fingers in and out picking up speed and I was moaning like clockwork with the rhythm he finger fucked me

"Do you want me to fuck you now?" his lips brushed my ears and my pussy clenched automatically

"Yes'' I begged "Please" Pushing my ass against him more "I want to feel you inside me" He pushed me forward and my torso down on the desk so my nipples were against his cold desk and immediately his cock was pushing inside me stuffing me as he entered me halfway. I moaned , grabbing the edge of the desk desperate to grab at something turning my head and saw the pure ecstacy on his face making my pussy grip him tighter, causing him to buck his hips shoving his entire length inside me. A guttural scream escaped my lungs and I started begging for more. "Oh fuck, like that" He picked up the pace and started pounding into me. I was practically panting, savoring every time his hips crashed into me and his cock barreled into my depths. I could feel my legs start to shake and my eyes rolling in my head, feeling so close to losing control.

"Mmm that's my good girl" he said as his palm slapped my ass with a sharp sting, causing my pussy to tighten again and he groaned. Grabbing my ass he pulled out of me and took my body to flip me so my back was on his desk, and positioned his cock against my hole. "You look so good on my desk" he said with a cheeky grin as he pushed slowly into me. The speed was so slow I was groaning and grabbing at his chest, and he grabbed my nipples and started rolling them in his fingers. He was watching every inch of me, watching me ache desperate for more, seeing my pussy swallow him up and my face as he squeezed my nipples. But the pace was still slow, he was dragging his cock in and out of me and I was aching for him to go harder and faster.

One hand trailed off from my boobs down to my pussy where his fingers rubbed circles on my clit gently. I was gasping and repeating "yes" over and over as he got faster rubbing my clit, my legs started to shake desperate for him to fuck me hard and make me cum.

"Harder please, Luci" I begged reaching up to his neck and pulling to him

"You want me to fuck you harder?" he readjusted so he could lean against me with his pelvis against my clit, locking my hair between his fingers, before I could answer he yanked on my hair and started pounding me.

The desk was bumping rhythmically against the wall as Lucifer drilled me with what felt like every ounce of his willpower over and over. I was so full and the pressure of him filling me was so painfully good I knew I was going to explode.

"Oh f- Luci, I-" I couldn't talk while taking him over and over so deep and so hard, but I was so close. All that came out was constant moans in tune with his rhythm

"Cum for me" he said with a burning ferocity and I felt my whole body shake at his command.

"Oh yes" I cried out, my back arching instinctively, gripping around his neck pulling him close as my orgasm flooded me in waves of release. My pussy contracted and quivered against his hard cock and I felt him push inside me as hard and deep as he could.

He let out a grunt grabbing my hips and pulling me hard against his as he reached his climax. I could feel his cock spasm and empty inside me as he bit down on my shoulder moaning into my skin.

After a few moments of catching our breath lucifer paused looking over me in pleasure, I caught his eye and he smirked at me

"I do expect you'll compose your notes tonight still"

"I-"

"Relax, i'm joking," he leaned down to kiss me hard as he slowly pulled his cock out of me, leaking our juices on the floor. "Let's get cleaned up"

He helped me off the desk safely and led me by hand to the shower.

#obey me fic #obey me luficer #smut #female reader #lucifer x mc #luci stan

66 notes · View notes

geeks-universe · 4 years

Text

Veritas Vos Liberabit

The truth will set you free.

Next Part

A/N: This is part one. There won’t be too many parts, so expect like max 15. And yes, this is a Lucifer/Sherlock crossover.

For the first time, you felt absolutely free.

Your father was in Los Angeles, far away from your newfound home in London. Well, temporary, you were sure.

While your freedom was certainly enjoyable, you felt a twinge of guilt for leaving your father without a proper goodbye. However, you knew if you said goodbye, he’d convince you to stay. He was always good at that sort of thing.

You loved him, you truly did, but he treated you like a child. Which, yes, compared to his age you were most definitely a child, but he was forgetting that you weren’t like him.

Well, not entirely like him at least.

Besides, London was giving you a chance to experience life like a normal person. You’d spent so many years hidden away from the world, you’d barely had time to actually live your life.

Your father told you it was for your safety, which was fair enough considering the amount of enemies he had, but you still needed to experience life while you could. You knew deep down your father wouldn’t understand, even if he tried.

You sighed, looking on the city with a sense of trepidation. You’d been living in Los Angeles for a while now, but you’d had your father with you. This time you were completely alone in one very large city.

You shook your head, facing the door next to the home you’d decided to rent. You lifted your hand to knock, but as you did somebody opened the door.

“You were taking too long,” the man stated, his eyes narrowed as he looked you up and down.

It was analytic, you could tell. Considering who your father was, you tended to attract stares everywhere you went, just as he did. Something he once said floated back into your mind.

“Humans tend to have an affinity for the divine. It’s… desirable.”

This was different though. He was scanning you, looking for answers by observing. It was unsettling, to say the least.

“Okay, um, hi.” You raised a brow.

“American?” He inquired, leaning in a titch more. He smelled all around your collarbone before stepping back.

“Something like that,” you muttered, “can you quit with the,” you gestured vaguely.

“Yes, right, what’s your case?” He asked, leaving the doorway to head up the stairs. Curiously, you followed him up.

“I don’t have one,” you replied, “I’m here for the apartment next door. I wanted to introduce myself.”

“Ah, yes, the new neighbor,” he said, “delightful.”

“Who are you bugging now, Sherlock?” A new voice questioned from the room just beyond the stairs.

“We’ve got a new neighbor,” Sherlock introduced, ushering you into the room.

It was a bit messy, but in a way you knew the inhabitants could easily navigate through it. The man that Sherlock was talking to was sitting in a chair, setting a paper aside so he could properly introduce himself.

You took notice of the damn blink that everybody did, usually right before they try to charm the wits off you. It was all too familiar, and annoyingly comforting in a weird way. It made you feel closer to your dad.

“Hi,” he breathed, “I’m John Watson.”

You smiled politely, holding your hand out for him to shake. He did so, though you noted that his touch lingered longer than acceptable.

“Right,” Sherlock drawled, watching his friend closely.

“I’m (Y/N),” you introduced yourself.

“You’re from America,” John concluded.

Once more, you let that tidbit of information slide by. If they wanted to believe you were from America, so be it. It was easier to explain than where you were actually from.

“I hope that’s not a problem,” you laughed awkwardly.

To be quite honest, there were still many things you felt entirely trivial about. One of those things just happened to include the rest of the world besides Los Angeles, considering you’d never been.

“Not at all,” John assured you with a friendly smile.

You let out a relieved sigh.

“Glad to hear,” you mumbled, looking from one occupant to the next. “I just figured I’d stop to say hi and, uh, if-“

“Why did you choose here?”

Sherlock interrupted you, still scrutinizing your every move. If you hadn’t been so taken off guard, you may have laughed.

“I’m sorry?”

“You’ve got a lot of money from your…” he leaned forward an inch, his eyes flicking down to your hand, then back to your face, “father. Could’ve had any flat in London and you chose here. Why?”

“Uh, I-“

“Nervous, but happy,” he paused thoughtfully, “running from home? First time outside of America. No, even more, first time outside of home. Where is it? A city, has to be. You’re fine wi-“

“Stop that.”

John was quick to stop Sherlock’s tirade, an apology in his expression and a hand on his friend’s shoulder that was meant to shut him up.

“Quite the mind reader,” you joked weakly, chuckling nervously. For your sake, you seriously hoped he wasn’t. Humans couldn’t be, but you could never be too sure on what creatures lurked about, especially outside of the comfortable corner of the world your father carved out for you.

“Observation,” he corrected, and you nearly breathed a sigh of relief before deciding that doing so would be far too suspicious.

“He’s quite good at it, and won’t let you forget it anytime soon.”

You smiled politely to John. Of the two, he was the more familiar one. You had met so many different kinds of people during your stay in Los Angeles, and none had been able to pick apart your character by way of observation.

“I’m from Los Angeles,” you supplied.

Sherlock clicked his tongue, as if that had been one of the cities he’d narrowed the list to. Basing his ability solely off of the brief interaction you’ve had with him thus far, you wouldn’t be surprised if it was.

“I’m not running from home, exactly.” You shrugged, a half smile on your lips. “I am an adult anyways, not like it’s illegal. I just wanted to see more of the world, explore life outside of home.”

Sherlock hummed to himself, like he was trying to piece you together and he had managed to click that extra bit of information into a slot. John, on the other hand, seemed to find your response endearing.

Unlike Sherlock, he wasn’t analyzing your every word and move. He was taking what you said at face value, and empathizing with your story.

“Never been to Los Angeles myself,” John cleared his throat, hoping to continue the small talk.

“You should, it’s an interesting city,” you offered a genuine smile, ignoring the twinge of longing. You really did love Los Angeles, and being away from home hurt just as badly as it felt good. “If you ever do find yourself there, stop by Lux. My father owns it.”

“So I was right,” Sherlock muttered, “rich family. Old money or new?”

Your expression turned to something decidedly mischievous.

“To be quite honest, my family has never really needed money.”

If Sherlock was confused by your statement, he made no effort to show it. The brief furrow of John’s brow was the only evidence you’d even spoken your words aloud.

“Anyways, I just wanted to introduce myself. My door is always open if you need it.”

“Likewise,” John said kindly, a soft twinkle in his gaze. The exchange was interrupted by Sherlock’s annoyed huff.

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous John, the door is locked quite often. As should yours, London can be a rather dangerous place.”

“Unfortunately for London, so can I,” you joked lightly, tugging at the chain around your neck. It had become something of a reminder of home.

On it was a gift from your father, something to carry with you so you can always remember him. A promise, really.

See, Lucifer wasn’t your father in the biblical sense. (The irony.) He raised you, but you were, by all rights, his baby sister. (Emphasis on baby, you’d only been kicking for 22 years.) Instead of being raised in the Silver City, you had been left at the gates of Hell, without a word of explanation. While Lucifer hadn’t asked, nor wanted, the newfound paternal responsibility, he assumed the role with minimal complaints.

If you were being honest, he was an amazing father. He had allowed you to flourish and be the person you wanted to be, not the vision he had for you. However, he had a tendency to be overzealous and project his fears onto you. He was worried the whole world was against him, and if he weren’t there to protect you, then you’d be taken from him.

The concept seemed ridiculous to you, considering you were 22 years old and had never had so much as a scraped knee, but he was adamant. Thus, the only way to escape his watchful eye and truly experience life- if only for a little while- was to leave.

“I can give you my number,” John suggested, quickly backtracking as soon as he realized what his words implied. “If you- I mean, so you can let me know if you need anything.”

Your smile was wide as you handed him your phone. Truth be told, outside of the few close confidants you had in Los Angeles, there were few people you’d had the chance to really get to know. John and Sherlock seemed like nice enough people, and they were going to be your neighbors for the time being.

He typed his number in quickly, as Sherlock watched the interaction curiously. There was something in the way he observed that had you smiling. The staring was familiar territory, but the intent was different.

“I suppose,” John began, handing you back your phone with the utmost care.

He exchanged a glance with his roommate before rocking on his feet.

“We work odd jobs so there may be some noises…”

You quirked an amused brow. They seemed a fair bit more interesting than you were expecting. You waved off his worry.

“I survived living with my father for as long as I did, I promise it can’t get any weirder or noisier than that.”

The look John gave you made you think he definitely thought it could, but he didn't voice any more concerns. Instead, he gave you a gentle goodbye and walked you back to the door of your actual apartment. Sherlock hadn’t bothered to come, even though you were almost hoping he would.

There was something peculiar about him, and you wished to have more time to evaluate just what that was, but in the meantime you were left alone to your devices.

Once John had left, you found yourself leaning back against the door to look at the bare interior of your new home. The thumping of your heart slowed to a near standstill as you took in the wooden floors and the brick walls. It wasn’t overly fancy, like what your father owned, but it was yours. (Well, you were renting it, but the fact still remained.)

Tears filled your eyes, and you couldn’t quite understand why. The aching in your chest was rivaled by the freedom in your veins. You’d never really had the opportunity to answer the question of who you were. It’d always been what your father thought best, or what you could do to help him. Now, nobody would tell you what to do, or how to decorate your new apartment, or who you could befriend. However, your father wouldn’t be there to tell you everything would be okay, or remind you how very important you were to him, or how capable you were.

Freedom had never tasted so bittersweet.

“Decorating tomorrow,” you told the empty space, a small smile on your lips.

For tonight, you’d continue to be the person who left your home in Los Angeles to start over in London. You’d be the one who ran from home to discover a life out from under the man who had raised you.

Tomorrow, though, you’d finally start the journey of figuring out who you were.

It’d start with furniture. Then a job maybe, some friends, a hobby…

The options were endless, and you found yourself buzzing with the opportunity to discover what would make you happy.

#sherlock x reader #Sherlock Holmes x Reader #sherlock imagine #sherlock holmes imagine #im in a sherlock mood #lucifer is the readers dad but also technically the older brother #he just done adopted them #im too drunk to be doing this #but i love this so much #vvl

72 notes · View notes

belpheroo · 4 years

Text

Title: Fear & Loving in Devildom, Part 2 Pairing: Belphegor x female!MC Rating: M for discussions of mature themes Summary: Belphie is guilt-ridden, but also horny. Funny how often those two things coincide when you catch feels for the girl you killed. Notes: Yet another follow up to my Belphegor fics- A “maybe”, On the Way to a “Yes” and Fear & Loving in Devildom, Part 1

Belphegor had slept through the lunch break, arms folded over his desk as he breathed in deeply and even. He’d been sleeping very well lately. He always slept well, but there was something particular satisfying of late. In fact, his entire mood had been improved, even Beel remarking on how he was spending less time tormenting Levi and “stirring up shit” between Lucifer and Satan.

Half awake, he turned his cheek into his arm and heft a contented sigh before letting his mind go soft and blank.

A heavy weight abruptly draped over him, a chin digging into his back.

“Hey. You think you could knock me up? Being different species I was thinkin’ no, but then I realized I don’t actually know.”

God help him.

Belphegor didn’t respond, trying to fake being asleep now as his moment of peace slowly drifted away. Her weight disappeared and he watched her through half closed lids as she puffed out her stomach and rubbed a hand over it.

“We can name it Damien!”

“Please don’t insinuate our love child would be the anti-christ.” He said, voice muffled.

She laughed, puffing out the breath she was holding. She crouched down by his desk, forcing him to make room as she rested her own arms over the surface and meeting his eyes.

“Have I worn you out?” She asked smugly.

“No, but it would appear you are ‘reforming’ me.”

“I heard. Beel was saying you’ve been in a spectacularly good mood. Can’t imagine who is responsible for that miracle.”

She winked. Belphegor said nothing and opted to just watch her smile and be frustratingly beautiful.

“So whatcha think? Should we like, do the tried and true pull-out method from here on or invest in some condoms?”

“No complaints to pull out. I would like to see you on your knees like this, your face covered in my—“

At that moment, the door opened as a rabble of RAD students came pouring in. Lucifer among them. The eldest eyes had immediately settled on them upon his entering.

“— affection.” Belphegor finished.

She practically beamed as she snickered. He hid his face in his arms to avoid having to greet Lucifer as he made his way over to them. She stood up straight, fluffing out her skirt as she grinned up at him.

“Are you feeling well now? I was informed you took a sick day this week.” Lucifer said, his deep voice smooth and soft with genuine concern. Belphegor fisted his own sleeve beneath his hand.

“Oh— yeah. I’m fine now. Just had a bit of a cold. Probably not even a cold! Probably allergies.”

More like she’d been so sore from the perfectly thorough fucking he had given her, she could barely move her legs. Belphegor’s smile was hidden from sight.

“You should wear a face mask when you’re outside.” Lucifer said, half reprimanding.

“I will! No worries, I will take care of myself.”

Belphegor hated how sweetly she spoke to Lucifer, bouncy and light. It was the same way she talked to everyone but still, he hated it. Despite that, he would never try and crush that spark in her. She was a social butterfly and that charm was part of why he loved her. She had a light in her that drew in everyone like moths to the flame… he could hardly blame them for wanting to bask in this little sun here in Devildom.

Lucifer must have nodded, because their conversation stopped and he heard his footsteps fading away. She crouched down again, voice a whisper.

“What were you saying there? Something about covering me in your affections?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She smiled, wicked and amused before finally the teacher arrived and she had to go back to her own seat.

—

Belphegor didn’t care much to keep their growing relationship a secret from his brothers, but deferred to her wishes. She wanted to keep the “peace” for now, until she had time to properly show they were a couple. Belphegor was certain Beel had suspicions, if not just downright knew about them. Others who had likely tuned in were Asmo and Satan, one simply because of his intelligence and observation skills, the other because he probably could sense the change in the air by pheromones or some wacky Lust based shit.

No one had displayed too much objection to their spending time together except for Mammon, but that was to be expected. Mammon loved her. He loved her the way Belphegor loved Lilith. Devoted, but familial. This fact had kept Belphegor from glaring too many daggers Mammon’s way when she went off to hang out with him and play model at Majolish… or the fact that every other Devilgram selfie she posted seemed to include Mammon.

Jealousy still coldly laced its way through Belphegor’s blood sometimes, but despite himself, he knew she loved Mammon too. He was her first man, her best friend. There were things he could never replaced that Mammon gave her… but he reminded himself, there were things he gave her that Mammon definitely did not. The sound of her voice and the touch of her body, welcome and inhibited was all Belphegor’s. It was childish perhaps, to think of all the things Belphegor had wrung from those lips, all the things he had sparked in her heart that Mammon did not… but it calmed the beast in his chest.

After class, he had expected to find her waiting, but instead found the person he least wanted to speak to.

Lucifer gestured to him, waving his index and middle finger to beckon. Belphegor’s eyes narrowed, but he crossed the hallway at his leisure and came to stand nearby.

“What do you want?”

Lucifer normally would have prickled up at the disrespect, but Belphegor was surprised to find there was not even a trace of indignation in his older brother’s expression.

“I need to speak with you. Come with me.”

Any of the other brother’s would have felt anxiety at this no doubt, except maybe for Satan. Belphegor merely frowned.

“Do you remember what happened the last time you asked me somewhere to talk?”

Lucifer sighed, “Would you like to bring Beel with you?”

That… was not what he expected. A reprimand, a threat or a repetition of his demand? All possibilities. This? Not so much.

“I don’t need a sitter.”

“Then come along.”

Belphegor knew better than to try and force out a “please”.

—

It didn’t take long for Belphegor to recognize where they were going. Diavolo’s office. Thankfully, the room was devoid of Diavolo or his little servant, Barbatos.

“Why here?”

“Privacy.” Lucifer answered, leaning against the edge of Diavolo’s desk. It seemed even he wouldn’t presume to sit in Diavolo’s chair.

Belphegor noted Lucifer gesture for him to sit in one of the plush chairs before the desk, but Belphegor, despite himself, elected to stand.

“This is all wonderfully morbid, but if you could get to the point…”

“I have tolerated your cheek until present because… of the situation. But I would ask that you mind your tongue for the remainder and let me speak. I have questions. I ask you answer them simply and truthfully.”

Belphegor said nothing, fixing Lucifer with a piercing stare. When the silence had stretched out enough to Lucifer’s liking, he spoke again.

“What do you plan to do when she leaves Devildom and returns home?”

“Who-“

“Simply and truthfully.”

Lucifer’s voice was tinged with barely veiled anger. If Belphegor kept pushing him, he’d pop… and on a normal day, that would be a good time in his eyes, but for now Belphegor crossed his arms.

“I will visit her.”

“Frequently?”

“As frequently as possible.”

Lucifer nodded, “And where do you intend to find the energy reserves to propel the glyphs for such frequent trips? You’ll expend your own fast enough.”

“… the others will want to visit her too. We can share the burden.”

“Is that what you want? Visiting her with everyone?”

Belphegor frowned deeper. Sharing the burden would also mean sharing her and her time.

“I’ll make it work.”

“I suppose there is no point in asking if you have already been… intimate with her?”

“Not that it is any of your business, but yeah, Lucifer. I have. I made a pact with her.”

“And now you’re sleeping with her.” Lucifer said, less a question and more a simple disapproving statement.

“We fuck on occasion too.”

“How crass.” Lucifer said, distaste evident in how he wrinkled his nose and furrowed his brow, “So she is simply a means to sate your desires? An object of pleasure?”

“… why are you asking these questions? What is your game?”

“I am protecting her.”

Belphegor laughed, curt and mirthless.

Lucifer continued on unfazed, “You have made a selfish and fatal error. What do you think will come of this? You will break her heart and I will not allow it.”

“I have no intention of hurting her you presumptuous—“

“Your intentions are worthless. She will return to the human realm at the end of the term and there is nothing you or I or anyone can do to stop it! And this entanglement will only serve to prolong her suffering when that day comes! Have you thought nothing about this? What it would mean?”

Belphegor felt his throat seize around his words, keeping them strangled in his throat as he stared at Lucifer, eyes narrowed with growing rage… not all of it for Lucifer.

“… you’re a demon, Belphie.”

He hated hearing that nickname come from Lucifer’s lips, especially when he said it so gently.

“She’s a human. She belongs up there, not here with us.”

“Why did you even bring her in the first place?” Belphegor spoke, his voice raspy and low as he struggled to get out the words, “Why allow Diavolo to do it? I told you… it was a bad idea.”

“Do not pretend you were trying to prevent this. Not when we both know it was hatred that spurred your displeasure at that time… and now? You’re the very reason it has this… complication.”

Belphegor swallowed, tasting acid and feeling something still starting right at the height of his throat, spreading prickles over the roof of his mouth. He… he hadn’t thought about her leaving. He truly hadn’t. It had always felt like something he would have time for later, even as he lamented his “lack of time”. A part of him just… just assumed she would stay.

“What do you want from me? You want me to… what? Break her heart now? Lie to her? Tell her I don’t love her?”

Lucifer stiffened at the word, trying to keep his eyes from giving away his surprise as he met Belphegor’s own. Belphegor was certain he was a pitiful visage and Lucifer seeing it only added an edge to it that made him seem even more a pouting child.

“You love her?”

Belphegor bristled, anger making him quick to speak how he truly felt without a thought, “With every breath I breathe.”

It was Lucifer’s turn to look stunned. The rush died down as quickly as it sprung up, leaving Belphegor slow to speak once again.

“I... tried to keep my distance, but she wore me down… I… I didn’t intend…”

Too much. Belphegor closed that gate up as soon as he opened it, turning his face away from Lucifer’s scrutiny. He wished he could go back to those days, when he was young and full of light and trust and his older brother was someone he could talk to… someone he could confide in.

He’d forgotten himself, but it was only a momentary lapse. Lucifer must have sensed this, because his own demeanor relaxed and his arms fell from where they were crossed over his chest to his sides.

“This… is not a situation I think anyone was prepared for.” Lucifer said at length and Belphegor took it for the olive branch, masked as a non-answer, it was intended to be.

“I would have been remise in my duties as your brother if I did not speak up.”

Belphegor winced, “You picked a hell of a time to start giving a shit about that.”

“I have always ‘given a shit’, Belphegor.”

Ah, he was “Belphegor” again. “Always. You spent so much time with your head up your ass you just can’t see it.”

There was something… fond? In the way Lucifer said that? He even chuckled faintly.

“You’d know all about that.”

Lucifer snorted, “About being a rebellious child? Yes. In fact I do. Mankind wrote a lovely book about it, I suggest giving it a read.”

Belphegor laughed, surprising himself. When did Lucifer get a sense of humor? It did some to ease the tension, but still Belphegor was fairly certain he’d like to be anywhere but here.

“…I suppose I would just ask you be thoughtful to the situation. Understand that this relationship, should you both continue to pursue it, will have obstacles. Many obstacles. I say this to prepare you. And I suggest, if you have not already, you speak of it with her. It is all well and good to enjoy your time together, but at some point… be sure she understands what it means too. And if she is willing to traverse those obstacles with you.”

Lucifer averted his eyes in his usual fashion, looking up and away rather than down. Never down.

“It’s not just her getting hurt I worry about.”

“Ugh, gross.” Belphegor said, rolling his eyes for effect. Lucifer did not look remotely amused.

“I have said what I wanted to say. Though one last bit of advise…don’t be within arm reach when Mammon finds out.”

He flashed a wicked smile. Belphegor scoffed at it before he quickly left the room.

—

Belphegor’s D.D.D. had vibrated a couple times in the office and now looking through it he saw her usual messages, oversaturated with emoji.