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lxkeee · 3 months

Note

Hi!! I absolutely adore/love your works!🥰💕 Also if you do accept a request can you do platonic with reader as the second child of Lucifer and Lilith!

If your requests are closed you can just ignore this and have a good day/night!😁

TO-DO LIST

—Father! Lucifer Morningstar x Daughter! Reader [Platonic]

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Synopsis: Lucifer promised himself to do better, making a to-do list to keep track of what he needed to work on. Including mending his broken relationship with his second daughter.

Notes: will be making a male version of this later.

Additional Notes: anon didn't specify what scenario it is so I just winged it and made up a scenario of my own.

Progress, sure it's slow but progress is progress no matter what the speed of the process is. Lucifer sighs softly to himself, his right hand holding a fountain pen and his left holding a notepad. Moving his hand as he fluidly crossed out something from the paper.

Organize my room. Done.

He smiled proudly at himself, admiring his work. His bedroom is now neat and tidy, the pile of rubber duckies are now stored away properly. Some are used as decorations but the others were hidden somewhere. He made sure to display his proudest creations, such as the backflipping and fire breathing rubber duckie he recently just made.

He promised himself and Charlie that he'll be better. He thanked himself for allowing himself to visit his daughter's hotel. There, he was able to reconnect with her.

His eyes became heavy as his gaze landed on the very last goal he wanted to achieve. Reconnect with [y/n].

Reconnecting with Charlie was easy as the girl was like an exact copy of him. [Y/n] on the other hand is the copy of Lilith, his ex-wife.

Sure, she has his qualities but personality wise. Lilith.

He and [y/n] stopped communicating with one another after he and Lilith split. Guilt. He felt guilty.

He avoided his second daughter as she reminded him so much of her mother.

It's not [y/n]'s fault, nor is it his. He was just grieving, grieving over a love that lasted for so long and suddenly fell apart.

He couldn't process it properly and hurt his daughters in the process.

He doesn't even know what [y/n] is up to lately. Last he remembered is that she took over some things around the kingdom as he was quite useless during these past seven years.

What a shitty father he is. He couldn't protect his daughter. He wonders how much his daughter is going through by temporarily taking his place for the meantime. He could just imagine those filthy sinners looking at her with those disgusting eyes. The harsh words, the objectification.

He just wants to shelter and adore both of his daughters, okay?

Lucifer sighs softly, hand gripping the notepad.

He wants to reconnect so badly but he's being too much of a coward.

He doesn't want to admit it but he's doing all of these tasks because he's prolonging the inevitable of talking to [y/n].

Running away like he always does.

Before he could self destruct like he always does when facing a problem, he could remember Charlie's words, “Healing takes time and you shouldn't rush things if you're not ready. Take one step at a time.”

Lucifer calms down, right. Take my time. I should use this to think about what I should say to her.

Progress, just like Charlie has said.

Slowly and surely, goals that were written down are crossed out one by one.

It took a few weeks at most but he's finally done. Taking out his pen and crossing something out of the notepad.

Try to understand sinners. Done.

His eyes landed on his final goal. Reconnect with [y/n].

Taking a deep breath, trying to calm his fast beating heart. He's nervous, that's an understatement because he is downright terrified.

Finally picking up his phone, tapping on to the screen to look for his contacts.

Finally seeing [y/n]'s contact, her profile a rubber duck version of her that he had made.

Taking a deep breath, trying to remember what he planned to say. Finally, his fingers hit the call button.

Ringing. It's ringing.

His fingers taps along the table of his office nervously, waiting for her to accept his call.

“Father...?” [y/n] answers hesitantly from the other line and his heart almost leaped out of his chest. He cringed a little, after his relationship with his second daughter fell apart. She started calling him father instead of dad. Which sounded way too formal for his liking.

Taking a deep breath, he needs this to be perfect.

“Hey sweetie... I am just calling because I am wondering how you have been?” he says, stuttering a little.

The other line went silent for a few moments before she answered, “Are you okay? This has been the first time you've called me in the last... 5 years. Do you need something father?”

He could practically hear doubts in her voice, imagining that she's raising an eyebrow at him at the moment.

“Are you busy at the moment...?” he asked softly and he could hear the deep sigh from the other line, he could practically hear the disappointment from the sigh she let out.

She probably thought he only called her for a favor. What a bad father he is, really.

“Not at the moment, why?”she asked.

“Can I visit?” he asked hesitantly and the line went silent once more.

“Why...?” she asked, he flinches from the question.

“Can't I visit my daughter now?” he asked, jokingly. He can practically imagine her deadpanning at him.

“Surprised to hear you still call me your daughter, I'm sure I didn't feel it for the last seven ish years.”

He flinches, yeah. He hurt her a lot.

“I know [y/n]... I was a horrible father to you and you didn't deserve that treatment but... I want to be better. For you and Charlie... So please? Can I see you...?” he pleaded softly, tears rolling down his cheeks. He could hear her breath hitched from the other line, followed by a sigh.

“Alright, fine. You can come over.” she says, defeated. No matter what he did, she'll always look for her dad.

The phone call ends and Lucifer takes a deep breath, calming himself before eventually teleporting to the other side of the pride circle, where his daughter's office is located.

He immediately teleported to her office, seeing her working on her desk, typing out on her laptop.

Without giving her time to process, he immediately went to her side. Pulling her up from her seat making her yelp in surprise and hugging her.

“Dad?!” she yelped in surprise, surprised by the warmth her father gave her after seven long years. The male hugged her waist. [Y/n]'s eyes soften as she returns the hug.

“I know I treated you so horribly and I cannot justify my actions. You have been nothing but the best daughter to me and I pushed you away. For that I am sorry, please forgive me.” Lucifer pleaded softly, crying silently against her suit.

“I should've been there for you as you lost your mother but I made it all about me. You had to take over my work while also grieving. I should've been more competent but I pushed all my responsibilities to you and for that I am deeply sorry for hurting you.”

[Y/n] stayed silent, crying silently as she hugged her father. She misses him so much.

“And for that, I hope you know that I am very much proud of you. I love you my dearest princess.” he says softly and it was enough for the girl to finally breakdown, sobbing into her father's shoulders as she kneeled down to reach him. Lucifer held her, holding her body protectively.

“I am grateful that you are my daughter more than anything.” he says, running his hand through her hair. His other hand rubs circles on her back for comfort. “You've grown into such an amazing woman and I am very proud of you. I hope you forgive your father for making you do his work. Don't worry, daddy's here now...” he cooed softly, still holding into the crying girl in his arms. He promised to be better. One step at a time.

General Taglist:

@adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lxkeee answers #lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist #lxkeee updates #lucifer #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer morningstar

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youryurigoddess · 6 months

Text

I was minding my own business and analyzing another part of the A. Z. Fell & Co. bookshop from the Radio Times footage when I noticed something interesting on Aziraphale’s desk. It looks like the angel was studying a handwritten copy of someone’s last will and testament and left in a hurry, with a bronze medal and a fountain pen on top of it. And… an attachment of a land registry plan, barely visible underneath.

Obviously that’s when my South Downs obsessed brain turned all of its alarms on and decided to read the whole thing. And look for the missing parts, since only a portion of the original document was visible on screen. Unfortunately the full text is much longer and less exciting than anticipated, and — spoiler alert — related to a different area of the country, but still relevant to the Good Omens universe. We’ll look into that in a moment.

Let’s start with the struck bronze medal — acting here as a paperweight, which makes the documents in question already stand out from the usual bumph and bric-a-brac accumulated by Aziraphale over an unknown period of time on his desk.

It’s a very interesting rendition of the mythological scene centered around Daedalus fastening the wings onto his son Icarus (little does he know that this attempt to escape imprisonment will lead to his son’s demise). Contrary to popular sentiment in the history of art, this particular version of Icarus isn’t depicted as a child or teenager, but as a warrior donning a helmet and preparing himself to battle. Which makes perfect sense after discovering that it was made for the Royal Air Force Athletic & Cross Country Association’s WAAF Athletic Championships in 1945. There’s some poetic irony in the fact that the medal was apparently given to the third place winner in a high jump category.

Apart from its obviously military style, this concept seems inspired by a 1885-86 medal by Auguste Patey commemorating the experimental flights at the first French wind tunnel at Chalais-Meudon, a town on the banks of the Seine near Paris. On 9 August 1884, engineers Charles Renard and Arthur Constantin Krebs made the first controllable free flight there when they piloted their airship, La France, over a course and returned to their starting point. From 9 August 1884 to 23 September 1885, La France made seven flights and was able to return to its starting point five times.

The last Will and Testament of Josiah Wedgwood

The last Will and Testament of me, Josiah Wedgwood, of Etruria, in the County of Stafford, made the second day of November, in the year of Our Lord one thousand seven hundred and ninety-three, in manner and form following (that is to say): I give and bequeath unto my dear and affectionate Wife, Sarah Wedgwood, all that messuage or dwelling-house situate at or near Etruria aforesaid, with the buildings, gardens, and appurtenances thereto belonging, late in the holding of Mr. Thomas Wedgwood; and also all that field or piece of land in which the same stands, containing eight acres or thereabouts; and also all that close, piece, or parcel of land lying contiguous to the said dwelling-house, called the Horse Pasture, containing by estimation twelve acres or thereabouts; and also all that piece or parcel of land situate at Etruria aforesaid, heretofore purchased by me from Mr. Hugh Booth; To have and to hold the said messuage or dwelling-house, pieces or parcels of land, hereditaments and premises, with their and every of their appurtenances, unto my said Wife, Sarah Wedgwood and her assigns, for and during the term of her natural life. And from and after her decease, I give and devise all and singular the said messuage or dwelling-house, pieces or parcels of land, hereditaments, and premises, with their and every of their appurtenances, unto my Son, Josiah Wedgwood, his heirs and assigns for ever. Also I give and bequeath the sum of three thousand pounds unto my said Wife, to be paid to her within twelve months next after my decease. Also I give and bequeath unto my said Wife so much and such part of my household goods and furniture as is mentioned and specified in the Schedule or Paper Writing hereunto annexed, marked with the Letter A. Also I give and bequeath the sum of ten thousand pounds unto my Executors hereinafter named, upon trust that they, my said Executors, do and shall place the said sum of ten thousand pounds out upon some good and sufficient public or private security or securitys, at interest, to be approved of nevertheless by my said Wife, and do and shall pay to, or permit and suffer my said Wife to receive and take the interest, dividends, and produce of the said sum of Ten thousand pounds, as the same shall from time to time become due to and for her own use and benefit for and during the term of her natural life.

And from and after the decease of my said Wife, I direct that the said sum of ten thousand pounds shall be applied for and towards payment and satisfaction of the several legacys or sums of money hereinafter given by me. And I do hereby direct that the provision hereinbefore made or intended for my said Wife shall be in lieu, bar, and satisfaction of dower and thirds at Common Law. Also I give and devise unto my said Executors, for the use of my said son, Josiah Wedgwood, his heirs and assigns for ever, that part of Etruria Estate which I now occupy, upon the north side of the Turnpike Road leading from Newcastle to Leek, with the house I now live in, the outbuildings belonging to the same, with the pleasure grounds and all appurtenances thereto belonging, being about sixty-five acres; and also another part of the Etruria Estate, now in the occupation of Richard Hall, being about sixty-eight acres; And also another part of the Etruria Estate, now in the occupation of Thomas Ford, being about forty-five acres; and also the Estate late a part of the White House Estate, on the south side the Turnpike Road leading from Newcastle to Leek; and likewise the land purchased from Thomas Heath, with a small meadow on the north side the said Road, and lying in the Parish of Woolstanton; and likewise a meadow lately purchased from John Mare, of Handley, — all in the holding of Richard Billington, being altogether about eighty-one acres; and also a piece of land on the south side of the same Road, now in the holding of Daniel Haywood, being about two acres; and also an Estate bought from George Taylor, and now in the holding of Jonathan Adams, being about nine acres; and also a small piece of land adjoining the land bought from Hugh Booth, together with a part of the Hough Meadow, and now in the holding of John Ryder, being about four acres; and also an estate called the Spittels, situate in Penkhull, in the Parish of Stoke upon Trent, and lately purchased from James Godwin, containing sixty-three acres or thereabouts; and also an Estate adjoining to the Spittels on one side, and to Stoke Lane on the other, situate in Penkhull aforesaid, in the Parish of Stoke upon Trent, late in the holding of Humphrey Ratcliff, containing fifteen acres or thereabouts; and also a piece of land called the Woodhills, situate in the Parish of Stoke upon Trent, lately purchased from Ralph Baddeley, and now in my own occupation, being about eleven acres; and also all buildings, tenements, houses, farmhouses, outhouses, pot works, warehouses, workshops, and other buildings, of what kind soever they may be, situate, standing, and being upon any of the land or premises above named, and not hereinbefore devised; and also all my share of the models and molds of the Manufactory in Etruria aforesaid. Also I give and bequeath the sum of thirty thousand pounds unto my son John Wedgwood. Also I give and bequeath the sum of twenty-nine thousand one hundred and ten pounds, and likewise twenty shares in the Monmouthshire Canal, unto my Son Thomas Wedgwood.

Also I give and bequeath the sum of twenty-five thousand pounds unto my daughter Susannah Wedgwood; and which said several legacys or sums of thirty thousand pounds, and twenty-nine thousand one hundred and ten pounds, and twenty shares in the Monmouthshire Canal, and twenty-five thousand pounds, so given to my said Son John Wedgwood, and to my said Son Thomas Wedgwood, and to my said Daughter Susannah Wedgwood, I do hereby direct shall be paid to them as soon as conveniently may be after my decease, together with interest for the same in the mean time, after the rate of four pounds and ten shillings per centum per annum. Also I give and bequeath the sum of twenty-five thousand pounds unto my Daughter Catharine Wedgwood, to be paid to her as soon after her age of twenty-one years, or day of marriage, which shall first happen, as conveniently may be, with interest for the same in the mean time after the rate of four pounds and ten shillings per centum per annum. Also I give and bequeath the sum of twenty-five thousand pounds unto my Daughter Sarah Wedgwood, to be paid to her as soon after her age of twenty-one years, or day of marriage, which shall first happen, as conveniently may be, with interest for the same in the mean time after the rate of four pounds and ten shillings per centum per annum. Provided always, and I do hereby direct, that in case my said Daughters Catherine Wedgwood and Sarah Wedgwood, or either of them, shall happen to die unmarried before the age of twenty-one years, then that the legacy or legacys of her or them so dying shall sink into and become part of the residue of my personal Estate, and be applied and disposed of accordingly, as shall hereinafter be mentioned. Also I do hereby declare it to be my will that all the rest, residue, and remainder of my said stock in trade, goods, wares, implements, materials, and utensils of trade, and other matters and things used by me, in or belonging to my said Manufactory, except the models or molds therein used or kept, shall, at the time of my decease, sink into and become part of the residue of my personal estate, and be applied and disposed of accordingly. Also I give and bequeath all and singular my household goods and furniture not hereinbefore given to my said Wife, together with all my books, prints, books of prints, pictures, and cabinets of Experiments, of Fossils, and of Natural History, unto my said Son Josiah Wedgwood. And I do hereby commit the Guardianship and Tuition of such of my said children as shall not at the time of my decease have attained the age of twenty-one years unto my said Wife and my said Son John Wedgwood, until such children shall attain the said age. And I do direct that the fortunes or portions of such of my said children shall in the mean time be managed by my said Wife and my said Son John Wedgwood, and a competent part of the interest and produce thereof be applied for their maintenance and education, and the residue of such interest and produce be suffered to accumulate for their benefit and advantage in such manner as my said Wife and Son John Wedgwood shall in their discretion think most meet and proper.

Also I givo and bequeath one annuity or yearly sum of twenty pounds unto my Brother in Law, Philip Clark, for and during the term of his natural life. Also I give and bequeath one annuity or yearly sum of Twenty pounds unto my Niece, Sarah Taylor, for and during the term of her natural life. Also I give and bequeath one annuity or yearly sum of twenty pounds unto Mr. Alexander Chisholm, for and during the term of his natural life; recommending it to my Son Josiah Wedgwood to give him any further assistance that he may stand in need of, to make the remainder of his life easy and comfortable. And I do hereby direct that the said several and respective annuitys of twenty pounds, twenty pounds, and twenty pounds shall be paid and payable quarterly, at the four most usual feasts or days of payment in the year, (that is to say) on every twenty-fifth day of March, twenty-fourth day of June, twenty-ninth day of September, and twenty-fifth day of December, by even and equal portions, free and clear of and from all taxes, charges, and deductions whatsoever; the first payment thereof to begin and be made on such of the said days as shall first and next happen after my decease. Also I give and bequeath the sum of ten guineas unto the said Alexander Chisholm, as a testimony of my regard for him. Also I give and bequeath the sum of two hundred pounds apiece unto all and every the children of my Nephew Thomas Byerley, who shall be living at the time of my decease, to be paid to them at their respective ages of twenty-one years: Provided always, and in case any one or more of the said children shall happen to die without issue before he, she, or they shall attain the said age, then I direct that the legacy or legacys to him, her, or them so dying shall go and be paid unto and amongst the survivors or survivor of them equally, share and share alike, in case there shall be more than one, at such time and in such manner as is hereinbefore directed and expressed of and concerning the said original legacys or sums of two hundred pounds: Provided also, and in case all the said children shall happen to die without issue before they shall attain the said age, then I direct that all the said legacies or sums of Two hundred pounds so given to them as aforesaid shall sink into and become part of the residue of my personal estate, and be applied and disposed of accordingly. And I do hereby expressly direct and declare that no interest shall be allowed or paid upon the said respective legacys or sums of two hundred pounds in the mean time from my decease to the time that the same shall become payable by virtue of this my Will; such legacys or sums of two hundred pounds being given by me in lieu of legacys or sums of one hundred pounds, which it was originally my intention to have directed to be placed out at interest, and to have accumulated for such children of the said Thomas Byerley as aforesaid until they should attain the age of twenty-one years. Also I give and bequeath unto each of my Nephews Thomas and John Wedgwood, Sons of my late Nephew Thomas Wedgwood, of the Upper House in Burslem, the sum of two hundred pounds each, to be paid to them at their respective ages of twenty-one years: Provided always, and in case they shall either or both of them die before they arrive at the age of twenty-one years, I direct that the legacy or legacys of the party or parties so dying, of two hundred pounds so given to them as aforesaid, shall sink into and become part of the residue of my personal estate, and be applied and disposed of accordingly.

Also I give to my Servant George Jones the sum of twenty guineas, as a token of my remembrance of his faithful services to me. Also I give and bequeath to the several persons whose names shall be mentioned and comprised in the Schedule or List hereto annexed, signed with my name, and marked with the letter "B," the mourning Rings or other small legacys or sums of money which shall be therein specified and expressed. Also I give and bequeath unto James Caldwell, Esq., of Newcastle under Lyme, in the County of Stafford, the sum of one hundred pounds, which I desire he will accept as a testimony of my friendship and esteem for him. And I do hereby direct and appoint that my said Nephew Thomas Byerley shall, under the direction of my Executors, settle my accounts and manage and conduct the collection of my debts and other matters relating to the settlement of my concerns in business; and that a Salary of one hundred pounds per annum be allowed and paid to him for such particular service, so long as he shall be employed therein, over and above all charges and expenses attending the same. And it is also my Will that an estate at Burslem, late in the occupation of Joseph Wedgwood, consisting of a newly erected dwelling house, a set of pot works, with other buildings, and a field called the Cross Hill, containing altogether about two acres; and likewise an estate in the Parish of Astbury, in the County of Chester, called Spengreen, and now in the holding of Thomas Johnson, containing about seventy-five acres or thereabouts; and also a piece of land on the east side of the Bridge in Congleton, in the said County of Chester, being about two rods; and also all the rest, residue, and remainder, messages, lands, tenements, hereditaments, and real estate, money, securities for money, debts due and owing, personal Estate and Effects of what nature or kind soever or wheresoever, not hereinbefore particularly devised or disposed of, together with such or so much of the several sums of money hereinbefore mentioned and bequeathed as shall, by means of the contingencies and directions hereinbefore expressed, shall all of them sink into and become parts of the said residue of my personal Estate. And I do hereby give, devise, and bequeath the same unto my said Executors, for the payment of the legacys and annuities hereinbefore mentioned; and provided there should be a residue after the above mentioned payments, then I direct that such residue shall go and be divided unto and amongst my said children, John Wedgwood, Thomas Wedgwood, Susannah Wedgwood, Catherine Wedgwood, and Sarah Wedgwood, their heirs, executors, administrators, and assigns, equally, share and share alike, as tenants in common, and not as joint tenants; and if there should be any deficiency of real or personal estates for paying the said legacys and annuitys, such deficiency shall in that case be born equally amongst and made up by those my said children above named, (that is to say) John Wedgwood, Thomas Wedgwood, Susannah Wedgwood, Catherine Wedgwood, and Sarah Wedgwood, share and share alike, in proportion to the amount of the legacys to them herein left and bequeathed. And I do hereby nominate, constitute, and appoint my said Wife, my said Son John Wedgwood, and the said James Caldwell, Esq., Executrix and Executors of this my Will. And lastly, I do hereby revoke all former or other Will or Wills by me at any time heretofore made, and do declare this only to be my last Will and Testament.

In witness whereof I have to this my last Will and Testament, contained in six sheets of paper, and have to each of the first five sheets thereof set my hand, and to the sixth and last sheet thereof my hand and seal the day and year first before written. — Jos. Wedgwood (L.S.)

Signed, sealed, published, and declared by the said Josiah Wedgwood, as and for his last Will and Testament, in the presence of us, who in his presence, and in the presence of each other, have hereunto subscribed our names as witnesses thereto; the several following words being first interlined: money—my—happen—said. — Alexr. Chisholm, Thomas Mitchell, Joseph Mitchell, Joseph Rutland

John Wedgwood, of Etruria, in the County of Stafford, Esquire, maketh oath, and saith that he has searched among the papers and writings of his late Father, Josiah Wedgwood, late of Etruria aforesaid, Esquire, deceased, in order to find certain Schedules or Paper Writings referred to in the last Will and Testament of the said Josiah Wedgwood, and therein mentioned to be annexed thereto, and respectively marked A and B. And this Deponent further saith that he has not been able to find such Schedules or Paper Writings, or either of them; and this Deponent further saith that he has never heard or been informed, nor does he believe that the said Josiah Wedgwood ever wrote or made out, or caused to be written or made out, such Schedules or Paper Writings, or either of them. — John Wedgwood

Sworn at Newcastle under Lyme, in the County of Stafford, the 29th day of June, 1795, Before me, John Lloyd, a Commissioner.

Proved at London, 2nd July, 1795, before the Judge, by the Oath of John Wedgwood, the Son, one of the Executors, to whom Administration was granted, having been first sworn by Commission duly to administer. Power reserved of making the like grant to Sarah Wedgwood, Widow, the Relict, and James Caldwell, the other Executors, when they shall apply for the same.

That was… certainly a lot of words. Let’s see if they mean anything! Turns out that this isn’t another John Gibson, rural postman and shoemaker from New Cumnock, Scotland, but a prominent historical figure with close familial connections to someone whose name you definitely know.

Josiah Wedgwood (12 July 1730 – 3 January 1795) was an English potter, entrepreneur and abolitionist. Founding the Wedgwood company in 1759, he developed improved pottery bodies by systematic experimentation, and was the leader in the industrialisation of the manufacture of European pottery. He is credited as a pioneer of modern marketing, specifically direct mail, money back guarantees, travelling salesmen, carrying pattern boxes for display, self-service, free delivery, buy one get one free, and illustrated catalogues.

As well as pretty, decorative vases and crockery with aesthetics and technology rooted in antiquity, Wedgwood put his designs to a more radical use. He was elected onto the Committee of the Abolition of the Slave Trade and designed an anti-slavery medallion which became the most famous image of a black person in all of 18th-century art. Covering the costs of distribution and production himself, Wedgwood ensured that it became a powerful symbol of public support.

Josiah was also a founder of the famous Darwin–Wedgwood family and the grandfather of Charles and Emma Darwin. It was the considerable inheritance Josiah left to his son, Josiah II, that enabled young Darwin’s survey voyage aboard HMS Beagle and, consequently, the development of his theory of evolution.

Okay, but what links the “Prince of Potters” to Aziraphale and his bookshop?

In 1774 Josiah Wedgwood and his longtime business partner, Thomas Bentley, opened a new warehouse, enamelling rooms and most handsome showrooms at 12-13 Greek Street, Soho. In 1795, after Josiah’s death, the Wedgwood studio moved to 8 St. James’s Square and the buildings were later occupied by coachmakers, writers and other artists.

Now, through Word of God we already know that Aziraphale spent the 1600s using his personal savings to gradually buy out portions of the neighboring land in order to build the original bookshop “on Greek Street just off Old Compton”, which finally opened in its current form in 1800.

This means that for the time Josiah’s company operated in Soho, they were at least neighbors.

#Yuri is doing her thing #good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #A. Z. Fell & Co.#aziraphale #aziraphale’s bookshop #aziraphale is a landlord #and has a penchant for legal documents #which sounds a bit too ominous for an angel

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writingficsanddaydreams · 7 months

Text

His Eyes

Mihawk x gn!reader

Summary: you may dislike eye contact, but that doesn’t make his eyes any less mesmerizing

Content: some fluff, a little romance. They’re on a mission. Reader is autistic.

A/N: this is a shorter piece, just a snippet of an idea really, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. So now I’m making you all think about it too! Like all my stories, Mihawk is based on a mix of his live action personality, and the little bit I know from watching some of the anime and reading the manga quite literally years ago.

—————————————

Dracule Mihawk. A great warlord of sea. A man so powerful that his very presence makes others stop and step back wherever he goes, who can freeze a person in place with just his intense, piercing gaze.

You love his gaze.

You love the color of his eyes, the way that lantern light plays across the striking yellow, bringing out those hints of gold. You love the shape of them, the way his eyebrows furrow, that little line that forms above his nose when he’s so focused. You love how he can seem to command a room with his gaze alone.

His eyes are mesmerizing.

“How is it you can stare at me, yet request I avoid the same?”

His words send a shiver through you, one that strengthens as he turns that gaze briefly your way. His arm is is draped carefully across the back of the tavern booth, his fingers just brushing your shoulder.

You shrug and smile—just a little smile, the one you practiced because you know it secretly makes him pleased, even if smiling doesn’t come naturally to you.

“It’s not like I command you,” you tease, even as you draw your knees closer to your chest to better balance your sketchbook and lean slightly into him. You like sitting like this, both because it lets you naturally look away when he does decide to stare at you, and because you love the feeling of his nearness as you lean slightly into his side.

“Hmm.” He turns his gaze away. You quickly peak up at him and are pleased to see the slightest twitch to his own lips, a hint of his own smile.

He’ll never show it, not here in this tavern where every other person subtly watches him. But it’s there, and you’ve enjoyed drawing it out of him since you started working together as temporary partners. Especially since you started to be something more…

You turn back to your own work, drawing your fountain pen across the thick sketchbook paper.

A line here. A small adjustment there. You let yourself fall into the art, even as you listen to the conversations murmuring around you.

The din of voices can be overwhelming at times, painful even when so many noises echo together, but useful. You’ve learned ways to manage it, found tools to let you block out the sound when it’s too much and learned how to sort through the sounds when you do have the energy for it. Now you sit and listen, letting your art pull you slightly away from it all, even as snippets of conversation come and go.

“…can’t believe that seller cheated me! I…”

“…Mihawk here…?”

“…will drink you under the table…”

“…think Garp sent him? Does he know we…”

You still your pen, glancing only slightly up from the page. That conversation was from not too far away. The targets.

“You noticed them too,” comments Mihawk, in that eternally bored, yet oh so confident tone.

“What now?” you ask, turning your gaze back to your sketchbook. “Capture them here or flush them out?”

If you were working alone, you would probably wait for them to leave on their own, then follow them and complete the mission once away from all the noise and bustle of the tavern. But it’s fun to work Mihawk’s way as well, to see just what it is that makes him so simultaneously feared and respected. You find it fascinating how he toys with his targets at times, as if a job is simply a game to him.

“It has been quiet lately. A chase might be entertaining.”

You grin, even as you carefully try to capture a slight shimmer of light in your sketch.

This is the part you find so fascinating.

The way he can inspire or horrify people with just a glance. The way he moves so carefully and intentionally through his work, even as he sometimes treats it as a way to relieve the boredom of being truly the best. The way he knows how good he is, knows his power and wears it like a cloak.

You know the moment he turns his gaze from a casual analysis of the room to a hunter spotting its prey.

It’s in the slight gasps as that muted conversation staggers to a halt. The sharp sense of fear that drifts through the tavern. The way Mihawk’s intense gaze cuts straight through the crowded tables and towards the targets, even as everyone else breathes in relief that it’s not aimed at them.

You’ve done this just enough times now to know that soon your targets will try to leave, try to flee.

Then it will be time to act.

For now though, you enjoy leaning into your warlord, carefully drawing your pen across a sketchbook page as you capture the dangerous beauty of his vivid eyes.

#dracule mihawk #mihawk #mihawk x reader #one piece x reader

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hunn1e-bunn1e · 5 months

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Diavolo - "Sit In"

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

In which a certain prince of the Devildom is once again swamped with work, but luckily his little human lover has come to his rescue. Or; In which Prince Diavolo has his darling boyfriend [Name] warm his lap while he slaves away on his paperwork.

👑•♡•👑•♡•👑•♡•👑•♡•👑•♡•👑•♡•👑•♡•👑

The maroon-haired demon prince sighs gloomily as he slumps against his document-cluttered desk. He had been working for what felt like an eternity. Truthfully, it had only really been an hour or two, but it felt like he had been sitting there forever; it was just so boring! He could be hanging out with his boyfriend right now, doing whatever it is that his cute little human felt like doing; but no Barbatos made him work.

“Ugh…”

Diavolo groans; fidgeting with the fountain pen in his hands as he repeatedly taps on the desk; unknowingly creating a small pool of ink.

The poor demon desperately wants to leave the hellscape he's found himself in, but when he lifts his head to look at his butler, the man only smiles and shakes his head; gesturing with his hands to continue his work.

Abruptly; a knock sounded from behind the door. Diavolo shot upright in his chair; a relieved grin stretching across his lips. The door opens to reveal the very person he was just daydreaming about; his darling human lover: [Name].

The human boy peeks his head out from the partially opened door and looks from the seated demon to the butler who stands off to the side and back again. He raises a brow,–

“Oh. Are you busy right now, Dia?”

The h/c-ette queries softly; ready to get out of the busy man's hair as soon as he's told to.

Barbatos eyes his lord in suspicion, knowing the prince will drop whatever he's doing without a thought if it means he can attend to his lover's needs. The black-to-teal-haired man clears his throat; garnering the attention of the intruding Human Male.

“Unfortunately; his majesty is very bus—”

The poor steward was quickly cut off by his lord.

“Not at all! Well— actually I do have a few more papers to sign, but those can be done later! Now, what can I do for you, my treasure?”

Diavolo interrupts; giving his darling a dazzling boyish grin as he does so.

[Name] giggles at the prince's antics; giving the butler an apologetic smile before entering the room and gently closing the door behind him. Traipsing quickly over to the burly demon's desk; the human happily simpered. He carefully planted his hands on the desktop, fingers splayed, as he leaned forward just a bit.

“Are you sure you're not busy? I wouldn't want to keep you from your work. You know if you finish everything now, you'll have more free time later.”

The maroon-haired man chuckled at their concern; finding it cute that his little mortal lover was concerned about him. He scoots his chair back and away from his desk before patting his lap a few times, gesturing for them to have a seat. They, of course, comply; unceremoniously plopping their bottom onto the tops of his thick muscled thighs.

The demon wraps his arm around their waist; picking up his discarded pen and beginning to fill out the previously neglected paperwork. He chuckles softly as he feels you snuggle your head into his chest; leading him to give a gentle but affectionate squeeze to their soft thigh.

Diavolo lets out a pleased sigh; perhaps he should have you sit in his office while he works more often. Surely Barbatos wouldn't disagree, right?

👑•♡•👑•♡•👑•♡•👑•♡•👑•♡•👑•♡•👑•♡•👑

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!

This work was made by the spite garnered from this lovely little ask I received from a mystery anon, right here.

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peakyltd · 9 months

Text

New Endings

Part 1 | Tommy x Reader

A/N: I wrote this for @dearshelby 's 2K celebration. (Sorry that it took me so long to finish this Lora!) It was supposed to be just a one shot but it became so long that I decided to split it in two parts. It was also supposed to be fluffy but I completely lost track of that. I used the prompt: What you need me to say's gonna hurt you.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of abuse (not inflicted by Tommy and not described in detail), swearing.

Words: 3.4k

MASTERLIST | NEXT PART

Papers were sprawled over the big desk, the fountain pen in his hand was resting inches above one of them. The crackling of the fire was the only sound filling his office. He needed to finish this but his thoughts didn’t let him, still busy with processing the events of today.

He had left a meeting in the Midland hotel when he immediately recognized her from afar in the lobby. He still felt his heart drop at the sight of her. The mesmerizing smile she gave one of the receptionists filled his heart with the warmth he had been missing for so long.

He still remembered the day he let her walk out of his life, taking his heart with her.

After deciding to approach her, a man walked up and took her hand. Jealousy had taken the place of warmth in just a second. The ring on her finger told him enough. She replaced him with someone else, just like he did with her.

When the couple turned around, her eyes met his own. He could've sworn he saw her eyes lit up for a moment until her expression turned into a shocked one. Her soft beautiful voice called out his name and a small, formal “Hi.” And “How are you.” were exchanged until she told him they had an important meeting and that they had to go.

She never introduced him to the man on her arm. Although he wasn't sure if he actually wanted to be introduced.

“Dad? I can’t sleep.” A small voice shook him out of his thoughts. His eyes focused on the paper in front of him again, realizing the ink from his fountain pen dripped down on it, turning the letters into a big stain. A sigh escaped his lips before looking up at the little boy standing in his office, holding a blanket and a plush horse to his chest. “And why’s that, Charlie?” He asked his son. He took his pocket watch, wondering what time it was.

“Can I stay with you?” Charlie asked as he made his way over to his dad’s desk. “It’s 2 am, you can’t stay here.” Tommy remarked.

“I can sleep on your sofa.” The boy mentioned as he climbed on it. “Charlie, you should be sleeping. In your own room.” Tommy sighed as he got up.

“You should be sleeping too, you’re always here.” He argued as he laid down on the sofa. Tommy moved over to him, covering him with the blanket. “Why aren’t you sleeping, dad?” Charlie tried again.

“Because sometimes people have a bit trouble sleeping.” He explained as he sat down next to him. “Just like me?” Charlie’s question made his lips turn into a small smile. “Yes Charlie, just like you.”

“What’s letting you sleep better, daddy?” Charlie looked curiously at him as he hugged his horse.

Opium, booze, her.

“Thinking about the horses.” He answered as he stroked the boys hair. “I always dream about them.” Charlie smiled at him. “Do you too?”

“Yes, I do too.”

A knock on his office door got his attention. "Yes." The door opened, revealing Arthur and John. "Good morning Tom." The oldest brother greeted him as he sat down in the chair in front of his desk. John closed the door and started to pour himself a whiskey. "Indeed a good morning." He stated as he raised his glass before making his way to his brothers.

"You look tired." Arthur noticed the dark circles under Tommy's eyes. "He always does." John replied as he leaned against the desk, earning a glare from him.

"I'll keep it short. I got the deal, now I want you to keep an eye on the shipment.” He pointed at Arthur before moving his attention to John, a stern look in his eyes. “And I want you to deliver that package at the right address, today. Is it ready yet?”

“Of course it is. I worked really hard on it.” John smirked before taking a sip of his whiskey. “Good.” Tommy leaned back in his chair. “That’s it.” He sighed as he clasped his hands together.

Arthur’s eyes lingered a bit longer on Tommy as he stood up. It was worrying him to see him turn into ghost of himself more and more everyday. "Try to relax, yeah?" Arthur mumbled, knowing very well his words would fall on deaf ears. Tommy's straight face and the silence that followed confirmed it all.

“Oh, Tom. You never guess who I bumped into this morning.” John broke the silence as he stood up straight. “Well?” Tommy's toneless voice filled the room as he shifted his attention to the letters in front him.

“(Y/N), I accidentally bumped into her.” He answered as he finished his drink, placing the now empty glass on his brothers' desk. Tommy looked up at him, alerted by the mention of her name. “It was nice to see her again. Still stunning as ever.” John added, a small grin growing on the corner of his lips.

“Where did you see her?” Tommy asked him as John barely finished his sentence. "She left Greenwoods, told me she had breakfast there." John replied, narrowing his eyes as he looked at Tommy. "Was she alone?"

"Her fiancé joined her later." John responded. "Before you ask, I don't know who it is but I wonder if he really makes her happy. Our conversation changed in a weird way when he joined and she left pretty quickly after." He put a new toothpick in his mouth. "Why?"

“What else did she say?” Tommy asked. "I asked you something first." John simply stated, chewing on his toothpick. "John, what else did she say to you." Tommy snapped at him, irritated by the fact that he didn't get an answer right away.

John clenched his jaw as he glared at his older brother. "For fucks sake, I-"

"John, just tell him, eh?" He was cut off by Arthur who had put a hand on his shoulder. "Just tell 'im." He mumbled again, hoping to calm the tension between the temperamental brothers.

John sighed as he felt Tommy's eyes almost burn into his skin. "She's here for business. Told me she was doing well and just had a quick chat. That's it." He recalled the conversation. "Fucking business, eh? For how long is she staying?" Tommy questioned.

"Do I look like a fucking calendar to you?" John sneered as he felt himself getting angry by his brothers' interrogation. Tommy opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by John. "I have to go. I have to deliver a package."

"John." Tommy warned. "Fuck off Tom." He strided out of the office, slamming the door behind him and leaving Tommy and Arthur alone. "Maybe you should try to speak to her." Arthur carefully suggested.

Silence followed as Tommy glanced at him. "Go to the yard and talk to Charlie about the shipment that is coming our way."

A sigh fell off Arthur's lips as he shook his head slightly. "Yes Tommy." His voice a soft murmur as he turned around to leave the office. Tommy leaned back into his chair, his eyes staring at the door and his mind running.

"What's wrong with you now?" Tommy turned around to the direction the voice came from as he adjusted his coat. Ready to leave the office as his eyes met Polly's. Her body leaning against the doorframe, her arms crossed.

"Not much more than yesterday." He stated as he put on his cap. "That's why John left your office like that this afternoon?" She wondered, not quite forgotten the contrast between his entrance and exit of the building.

"You know how he can be." Tommy replied, making his way to the door. "Yes, I do know how he can be when you press the wrong buttons. Just like I know how Arthur can be and how you can be. Now tell me what's going on." Polly blocked the door, looking up at Tommy.

"Pol, please." Tommy looked at her, an unfazed expression marking his features. She simply raised her eyebrow, her eyes never leaving his.

Tommy sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. “I have to go.” His eyes held her gaze. Polly didn't move. He laid his hand on her shoulder and gently guided her out of his way. "Tommy, be honest to yourself for once." She retorded as she tried to stop him.

"I am, Pol. I am." Tommy mumbled, more to himself than to his aunt. Before Polly had the chance to stop him, he had already left the office. On his way to be honest to someone other than himself.

He stopped his car in front of a cottage on the countryside while looking for any sign of life. It seemed quiet and he hoped he didn't make the long drive for nothing. He excited the car and walked up to the front door, the sound of his knuckles hitting the wooden door disturbed the peaceful whistling of the birds.

Tommy waited but there was no one answering the door, he knocked again while glancing inside trough the closest window but it seemed like there was nobody at home.

As he contemplated on what to do next, the door opened. He looked up and was met with the person he was desperate to see. "Tommy? What are you doing here?" (Y/N) asked him while the color drained from her face, startled by his sudden presence.

"I want to talk." He admitted while he took in her appearance. His heart dropped in the same way when he had seen her in the hotel. She barely changed in those years although there was something different about her.

"How did you even know that I'm staying here?" She questioned him as she looked around to see if they were alone. Before Tommy could speak up she cut him off. "You know what, I don't even want to know. You can't be here." She blurted out, her eyes darting from him to the road.

Tommy noticed her strange behavior, it gave him a weird feeling. "It won't be long." He assured her as he stepped a bit closer to the door. "No, Tommy." She gasped slightly as she looked up at him. "Please, go."

"I'll go if you tell me that we can meet somewhere. Tonight." He countered although he didn't wait until tonight. Her gaze left his and found distraction on the floor. She bit softly on the inside of her cheek as she thought. A sigh escaped her lips. "Fine."

"Where?" She mumbled softly. "Midland hotel, 9 pm." Tommy offered but saw (Y/N) shaking her head. "No, not the hotel." She looked up at him. "The Garrison."

"The Garrison, 9 pm then." He confirmed as he watched her taking in her surroundings once again. Her gaze fell on him once more. "I'll promise I'll be there tonight." She assured before closing the door on him. Tommy swallowed harshly before returning back to his car.

As he leaned against the bar, Tommy's attention switched between the guests and the door, a whiskey in one hand and a cigarette in the other. It was 9.30 by now and she still hadn't arrived. Maybe she didn't dare to tell him that she didn't want to come and was this just a trick to get rid of him. Maybe it was stupid to still trust her after all this time.

A lot of maybe's and what if's had been going trough his mind for years now, all without any kind of answer.

The door opened again and revealed the gorgeous woman he was waiting for. Her eyes scanned the place as she wrapped the fur coat tightly around her body. "(Y/N)." Tommy walked up to her. "Tommy." She gave him a small, shy smile as she looked him up and down.

"This way." He let his hand rest slightly on her back and lead her into the snug. He put his drink on the table and turned back to her. "Would you like something to drink?" He asked her while she took off her coat. "Gin with tonic water, please."

As Tommy got her the drink she looked around. The bar looked different from the last time she was here. Thinking back of the many memories that were made inside the building, made her feel at home.

Tommy's voice shook her out of her thoughts. "Like the decorations?" He asked as he closed the door, making his way to the table and put her drink on the table as well. "I- Yes. It's different. More gold." She replied, turning her attention back to the man in front of her.

"You're allowed to say that you don't like it." He assured as he watched her cheeks turn into a light shade of red. "I do like it."

"Just saying." He pointed at the the seats. "Please, sit down." He told her as he sat down across from her, taking a sip of his whiskey. Silence fell over them until their eyes met. "How have you been doing?" Tommy was the first one to break the silence with his question.

"I'm doing fine." She kept her reply short. "How are you?"

"I'm doing well." He answered. She didn't quite believe it, he looked different from what she had remembered. Something she thought she had already noticed it at the hotel but wasn't too sure of.

"John said you're here for business." He said while lighting another cigarette. She narrowed her eyes and her jaw tightened. "The Blinders are still keeping an eye on me here?" She scolded in annoyance. "Did they ever stop?"

Tommy sighed, blowing out some smoke. "You know it was for your own safety." (Y/N) sat up straight. "Was it really? Or was it because you wanted to control everything single thing?"

She remembered that it got worse with the day. At some point there was always someone with or around her to watch her, or taking care of as Tommy would like to call it. She knew that he meant well and he wanted to protect her but it was suffocating.

He took a sip of his whiskey. "You know the answer to that question." She shook her head as she looked away. "Listen, I'm only here for a few days, after that I'll leave."

"Is it for your fiancée's business?" He asked, moving the conversation back to his inital goal while taking another drag of his cigarette. Her eyes snapped back to his, a glare replaced her kind looking eyes. "Tommy, please. Is this why I'm here? To talk about business or rather about my fiancé?"

"We can discuss business later." He remained motionless. "I need to go." She said as she stood up, making her way to the coat rack. "John wondered if he really makes you happy."

She froze as she heard his words. "Does he?" Tommy questioned. She turned around to look at him. "John this, John that. Why aren't you talking to him instead?" She scoffed, her breath quickening.

"Does he?" Tommy asked again. She looked at him, her arms crossing as her fingers played with the fabric of her dress, not being able to answer his question.

He held her gaze a little longer before breaking it. "I guess I have my answer." He stated as he stomped out his cigarette in the ash tray. She took a deep breath, feeling a kind of sadness washing over her. "Why did you even want to talk to me?" Her voice was smaller than before.

"Because I knew I had to when I saw you again. That ring on your finger was supposed to be mine." Tommy explained.

"Supposed to be yours? I can't believe you!" She shook her head before meeting his eyes again. "You're the one who told me I was better off without you because your life was too dangerous. You know I didn't want to break up because of that but you insisted." Tears welled up into her eyes.

"Listen (Y/N) I-" He was cut off by her raised voice. "No let me finish."

"You were the one who just vanished after everything we've been trough. On top of that I found out you were together with someone else not even months later." She took a deep breath to try and remain calm. "And now you're saying that ring was supposed to be yours?!" Her voice betrayed her anger.

"I made a mistake by breaking up with you." Tommy admitted as he stood up. She let out a snort. "Only for breaking up with me?! I heard you were married and had a child!"

"That was years after you, not months. You know I tried to find you but you didn't want to be found, you wrote it meself." He defended as he slowly closed the gap between them. "I have the letter still."

"Don't you understand that you've hurt me?! I wanted to hate you but I knew the moment I would see you again I would forget all about that because I loved you. Something you failed to show many times." She yelled at him, finally able to put the anger and pain into words.

"Don't fucking tell me that I never showed you how much I loved you." Tommy's voice raised, it startled her but she quickly gathered herself together again. "I made that decision because I wanted to protect you!"

"Oh, please!" She scoffed, her body felt tense and her chest moved rapidly from the heavy breathing. "If you loved me you'd fucking fight for me!"

"I always did, (Y/N)! Always!" He yelled back at her as he watched her shake her head again. "Oh fuck off! There's no point into this conversation. You should go back to your fucking wife!"

"My fucking wife is dead." His harsh words hit her harder than she expected, no words were able to leave her mouth as her eyes softened.

"I didn't know." She breathed out. "I'm sorry."

"I tried to protect her like I tried to protect you but I failed. A fate I wanted to spare you." He explained on a calmer tone.

Tommy's gaze softened, his hand touched her cheek carefully. She flinched slightly at his action. "I am sorry." His voice was almost a whisper. Her eyes stared into his, they seemed so close to something safe and familiar but at the same time it was all so far away from that.

He moved his face closer to hers until their lips met. They both melted slowly into the soft feeling of having each other so close. His other hand found it's way to her waist as her hands rested on his chest.

Tommy gently deepened the kiss as he pulled her closer. (Y/N) melted right into him until realization struck her. If her fiancé would find out where she was or what she was doing right now, he would be furious.

She pushed Tommy away, the sound of the harsh contact from her hand on his cheek echoed trough the space. A gasp escaped her mouth, afraid of what his reaction would be.

The stinging feeling of his cheek made Tommy instantly snap out of the moment. He looked at her as he clenched his jaw, confused by what just happened.

"I"m so sorry. I- I didn't want to... I'm engaged Tommy." She stammered while reaching for her coat. "David will kill me if he finds out that I was with you."

"(Y/N)..." Tommy started as he watched her put on her coat. "Does he hurt you?"

She gulped, avoiding his eyes. "Don't be ridiculous."

"I saw how you flinched (Y/N) and don't even get me started on the anxious behavior when I stood in front of your home." This was the last thing she wanted to talk about. "It's not our home. We only use it for holidays." She tried to change the subject as she walked to the door.

"(Y/N)." Tommy called out her name. "What?" She snapped as she turned back to face Tommy. "I care about you."

Her eyes lingered a bit longer on him. "I'm sorry Tommy. What you need me to say's gonna hurt you." She decided to walk out of the door, leaving him on his own.

To be continued

PART 2

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders fanfic

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badomensbaby · 2 months

Text

above the law. lrh

pairing: luke hemmings x fem! reader

summary: luke's so sick of his assistant, you, talking all the damn time. he finally does something about it.

warnings: 18+ only. minors DNI. smut, thigh-riding, unprotected sex, verbal degradation, rough bj, slightly dubious consent, office sex, cum-swallowing, cursing.

word count: 4,173

a/n: i wrote this originally back in early 2023 as an au using one of my wattpad original characters. through some editing, i've decided to change the pov and post it here! i hope you enjoy x

feedback and constructive criticism welcome. requests are open!

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Hemmings, get your head out of your ass for once and finish this goddamn deal."

The curly headed blonde's eyes snap away from the project he's currently in the middle of, various folders scattered amongst his desk, drowning him in useless paperwork all for a stupid fucking merger.

"The fuck do you think I'm doing?" Luke grumbles under his breath, snapping the Bolton file shut and tossing his overly expensive fountain pen on top of the mess he's created. Ashton Irwin, one of three named partners, stands with his arms crossed in the doorway of Luke's corner office, an unamused expression on his face.

"I think you're trying to do all this shit on your own instead of utilizing your associate, that's what I think," the honey blonde scoffs, thick brow raising, "Where's Y/N anyway? You send her across town for your stupid coffee again?"

"No," Luke's quick to defend, though it is the easiest way to get you out of his eyesight for a little while and focus, "I've got her on the Mansfield settlement."

"The Mansfield- that's Mike's case, idiot," Ashton shakes his head, "What's the deal, Luke? You really hate Y/N that much?"

A sigh of exhaustion leaves Luke's lips, head cocking back as he stares at the ceiling. "She's just chatty," he says vaguely, "Can't get a single fuckin' thing done 'cause she won't shut up."

"She's your associate, Luke, stop pawning her off on Mike or he'll swipe her out from under you."

"Good," he forces out a low chuckle, meeting the man's eyes, "He can have her."

"Don't say things you don't mean, you know she's one of the best associates we've got." Luke's eyes roll at his boss' words, sitting up straighter in his desk chair.

"Whatever," he mumbles softly, not willing to admit your brain is undeniably better than half the fucking people he's met. "Can I get back to work now?"

A defeated sigh escapes Ash's lips, "If I don't see Y/N in here working with you I'll make sure to send Calum your way."

"Calum?" the curly haired boy's nose wrinkles, shaking his head, "That's like giving me a fucking puppy, Ash, literally useless."

"Your call." he responds, a little smirk on his lips before pulling Luke's office door shut behind him. A groan leaves Luke's throat at this, the urge to rip every last blonde ringlet from his head at the idea of spending the remaining afternoon going over these stupid files with you.

Regardless of the fact that you’re distracting, which he'll never admit aloud, he shoots you a vague text requiring your presence in his office, no more than twenty minutes from now.

And of course, your dainty little wrist began knocking on the dark wooden door of his office precisely twenty-three minutes after he'd sent the text, only fueling his annoyance. A curt "come in" leaves his lips but his eyes remain on the file, instead of the sinful black dress on your curvy frame.

Tasteful and tightly fit, your fingers instinctively tug at the material resting on your mid thigh, a worrisome look on your features. For as long as you can recall, Luke's always teased you about your wardrobe, especially the bright colors and silken skirts.

"You're late," his tone is flat, hand scribbling away at the paperwork he's nearly memorized already, "I swear to god if you say some bullshit about the elevator again-"

Luke's words die in his throat as he lifts his head, eyes landing on the tight fabric on your frame, hugging every fucking dip and curve of your body. You meet eyes, yours widening, worried you’re going to be lectured again. Was your dress too plain, too boring?

The sweetheart neckline alone almost makes Luke lick his lips, stifling the urge to say something far, far more inappropriate to his associate. "Doesn't matter," the blonde rushes out, "We're gonna be here all night. Preorder from Machi's while you're at it."

"Okay," is all you say, walking closer to his desk, the click of your heels echoing Luke's ears as you bend over, just slightly, grabbing his desk phone and beginning to dial.

After nearly four hours and neither had made a miraculous discovery, a whine of agony leaves your throat, sat across the moderately sized office, snapping yet another useless file folder shut. "Luke,"

"What?" he rasps, tearing his eyes away from the file, meeting your eyes, his own filled with annoyance. "Don't tell me you've got nothing, Y/N."

"There's honestly no reason why Bolton should be merging with Daniels," you sigh out, running a hand through your hair, "Seriously, it's like Pampers merging with Microsoft, they have no interest in one another."

"Christ," Luke mutters under his breath, jaw tensing as you continue to ramble useless information, "Do you ever shut up?"

Mid-sentence, your lips snap shut, a warmth spreading across your cheeks. "Sorry," you respond softly, and Luke almost feels bad for being so curt, but god you never close your fucking mouth. "Did you find anything?"

A huff of air leaves Luke's nose, "Maybe," he says, twirling his fountain pen between his fingers, leg bouncing aimlessly as he scans over the documents for the umpteenth time. "But you keep fucking talking and it's throwing me off."

"Sorry."

"Damnit, Y/N," his curls bounce slightly as he shakes his head, rifling a hand through them, glancing over at your position on the small sofa, dress slightly ridden up your smooth thighs. "Come here, let me show you something."

Hesitantly, you toss the file on your lap onto the cushion, standing and making your way over to Luke's desk, oblivious to the fitted material of your dress riding a bit higher than intended. Luke swallows thickly, attempting to keep focus on the file in his hand. As you lean over slightly to see what Luke's underlined, his eyelids fall shut, the smell of your perfume annihilating his senses.

"But that means-" you cut yourself off, lower lip tucked between your teeth, palms flat on the corner of Luke's desk, "This isn't about combining their companies, is it?"

"No," Luke finally says after a moment, slowly blinking his eyes open, "But we need to convince the judge it is."

"That's impossible, Luke, it's clear they're only doing this for-"

"I know, just figure it out, Y/N."

"That'll take all night," you whine softly, "I'm not sleeping in the office two nights in a row." Luke's teeth grit together at your response, frustrated and fed up with your goddamn attitude.

"If you can't do it I'll find someone who can," he cranes his neck to meet your eyes, narrowed and darkened, "You wanna whine about a few more hours be my guest, but you're not doing it here."

"But-"

"Jesus fucking-" he abandons his pen with a thud, rubbing the palms of his hands against his tired eyes, "I seriously have never met someone so goddamn annoying. All you fucking do is whine and complain and talk my fucking ear off," Luke rambles lowly, "You wanted to be an associate, so be a goddamn associate and shut your fucking mouth before I shut it for you."

You stand upright, embarrassment washing over your features, attempting to remain composed as tears threaten your eyes. It's not a secret that Luke's always harbored some sort of annoyance toward you, but he's never spoken to you in such a vile manner before. You swallow the thick lump in your throat, fists balled at your sides. How dare he say those things to you?

"You're an asshole," you say, voice wavering slightly, "You're always a dick to everyone. Nobody's ever good enough for you. I wanted to be an associate to learn and do what I love, not be talked to like a child."

"The fuck did you say to me?" Luke counters with a raised brow, ringed fingers slowly rolling up the sleeves of his fitted black dress shirt. "I think you forget who you work for. Not Ashton, not Michael, definitely not Jessica. You work for me, Y/N, and if you want to keep your fucking job I think you owe me a goddamn apology."

Luke's eyes flicker between yours and the hemline of your little black dress, the skin of your thighs soft and tempting as he widens the distance between his legs, splayed open. "Come here," he says, a bit quieter this time, though he's fucking seething internally, he can't deny how fucking hot it is talking down to the you. Hesitantly, you step closer, stomach swirling with uneasiness.

"You don't wanna go through those files? Fine," Luke forces out a low chuckle, "But I've got work to do and I'm not gonna let you get in the way of that. So what you're gonna do is sit right here," he taps on his clothed thigh, "Shut your fucking mouth and make yourself cum on my thigh."

"What-"

"You heard me."

"Luke, I-"

"It wasn't a question, Y/N. And so help me god if you complain or make a fucking sound you're more than welcome to leave."

For the first time, you’re speechless. Standing so close to the man you swear hates you with every fiber of his being, asking you to make yourself cum on his thigh, you can't help the clench of your own thighs at the thought. Sure, you’ve had those kinds of thoughts about the tall blonde, but never did you imagine his request.

"So? What'll it be?" Luke asks impatiently, a thick brow raised as he grabs his pen, clicking it profusely, leaning back in his chair.

Wordlessly, and swallowing your pride, you step closer, slowly lifting your leg over the blonde's thigh, his foot firmly planted on the small rug beneath him. His eyes almost widen, as if he didn't expect you to comply, and he stifles a grunt when your warm center meets the fabric of his slacks. He can feel how fucking wet you are through the thin material of your underwear, your dress sliding a bit further up your thighs, almost exposing yourself to him.

"Alright then," Luke clears his throat, leaning forward slightly to grab the Bolton file, relaxing in his desk chair. "Get to it."

With her heart rattling in her chest, you grasp the armrest of Luke's chair to ground yourself, filled to the brim with shame. Are you really going to do this? You can still back out, you don't need to show Luke how pathetic you are, fucking leaking on his slacks just from his crude words. You don't even register the rock of your hips against his thigh until a soft moan slips from your lips, catching Luke's attention, his eyes briefly flickering to you.

And fuck is it hot. Your eyes slowly flutter shut as your hips roll in slow motions, the friction from the fabric forgotten, sensitive clit throbbing from your movements. Luke's jaw tenses, tearing his eyes away from the tempting sight, his cock twitching in his slacks.

Shame and embarrassment are out the window as you near your first orgasm, the explicit images of things you’ve only dreamt of unfolding behind your eyelids. You can only fucking imagine how Luke's fingers would feel inside you, the things he'd say as he's bottoming out inside of your tight heat. And it's suddenly overwhelming as you clench pathetically, throbbing against his thigh and your own legs shaking as you finish. "Fuck-"

Luke's eyes widen, biting hard at the inside of his cheek to keep his composure, the sound of you falling apart on his thigh sending a jolt straight to his aching cock. He wants nothing more than to bend you over his desk and fuck the daylights out of you until you’re drooling and forgetting your own goddamn name.

Reality comes crashing down as your orgasm passes, ragged breaths leaving your parted lips. Did you really just make yourself cum on your boss' thigh? "Luke-"

"Do it again."

"What?" You ask breathlessly, straightening your back, "You- you want me to do it again?"

"What did I say about shutting that pretty mouth of yours, Y/N? If I tell you to do something, do it," he scoffs, acting as though the sight of you cumming didn't turn him on even more, "If you're pathetic enough to do it once I'm sure you'll have no problem doing it again."

Your sensitive clit throbs helplessly as you swallow, white-knuckling the armrest and rocking your hips yet again. The swollen nub continuously brushing Luke's slacks has you choking down whimpers and whines, fearful of Luke's reaction to you making noise. Though, the idea of what he'll do if you don't comply lingers in your hazy mind.

The intermittent bounce of Luke's leg isn't doing you any favors either, little uh uh's leaving your parted lips.

You’re fucking drenched, the thin fabric of your lace underwear doing nothing to keep your arousal from coating Luke's thigh as you roll and rock your hips a bit quicker, your second orgasm creeping up on you, your head tossing back when a low, drawn-out whine leaves your lips, cumming for the second time like a pathetic whore.

And Luke fucking loves every goddamn second of it.

Attempting to calm yourself down from your release, thighs still trembling, Luke tosses the file onto his desk. He hadn't read a damn word of it anyway, not when you’re grinding your pretty little cunt against his thigh like a slut.

Suddenly embarrassed, your cheeks flush a deep crimson shade as you realize what you’ve done. You’ve soaked the fabric of Luke's slacks with your release, your own goddamn boss. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"Don't say another word," he firmly cuts you off, "Get on your fucking knees."

"Why-"

"I'm honestly so fucking tired of listening to you, Y/N," Luke's tone lowers, a scoff leaving his lips, watching as you scramble to the floor. "Gonna shut you up, make good use of that stupid fucking mouth of yours."

Catching sight of the wet patch on his slacks, he nearly groans, ringed fingers fumbling with his belt buckle in record time, desperate for the release of his achingly hard cock. You seem to catch on, widened doey eyes flickering up to Luke's, your hands neatly folded in your lap. Luke pulls his slacks down just enough to allow his length to be exposed, not wanting to show an ounce of vulnerability to you. You don't deserve a sweet intimate moment, you deserve to be fucking ruined.

"Open your mouth," he grunts, hissing as he grasps the base of his cock, your lips parting slowly, the blonde stepping forward and guiding the tip past your lips. "Wanna see you choke on my cock."

He doesn't give you a moment to register his words before he's thrusting fully into your mouth, tip poking the back of your throat and a choking sound emitting from your lips. You scramble to grasp at the backs of his thighs to keep yourself steady. The sight of your sparkly lipgloss coating his cock is so fucking intoxicating and he wonders why he hadn't thought of it sooner.

Using his hands to grasp your hair quite roughly, he continues to fuck into your mouth at a degrading pace, not allowing you to adjust to the forceful movements. Choking and gagging sounds fill the otherwise quiet room, spit dribbling from your lips. "Yeah, you like choking on my cock, Y/N? So much better than hearing you fuckin' talk."

Your nails dig into the fabric of his pants, a grunt leaving Luke's lips as his hips continue thrusting his cock into your mouth. You can barely take all of him, the base nearly untouched. "All you're fuckin' good for, hm?"

And suddenly he's removing himself from your mouth, chest heaving from how fucking wrecked you already look, the small tears pooling your waterline smudging the mascara you'd put on. "As much as I wanna watch you swallow for me," he heaves out, "I wanna feel that pretty fuckin' pussy of yours."

A pathetic whimper leaves your lips, clenching around nothing as you remain on your knees before him, a string of saliva connecting your swollen lips and the reddened, aching tip of Luke's cock. "You want me inside you?" he asks.

You have no words, honestly, the burn left behind in your throat from Luke's forceful thrusts halts you from speaking. Instead, you nod. "No, I want to hear you fuckin' say it, Y/N. I'm not an asshole."

"Yes," you weakly respond, "I want you."

"Good. Take that fuckin' dress off while you're at it."

Your shaky and frail fingers grasp the hemline of your dress hesitantly, eyes flickering between his leaking cock and his firm gaze, pulling the fitted material over your head and tossing it aside. Now sat in nothing but a pair of soaked, white lace panties and your heels, Luke's eyes fall on your bare breasts. "So fuckin' pretty."

"Luke-" you whimper quietly.

"Shut up," his hands reach beneath your arms, pulling you to your feet. Luke reaches around you, large hand swiping the array of documents off of his desk, sending them to the floor with a thud. You release a soft gasp when your bare backside meets the cool wooden desk, "Can't say I've never thought about this."

Luke's hands fall to your hips, gripping the skin roughly, and guiding you down until your back is flush with the desk, legs spread pathetically, displaying your clothed core to him. "God, you're so fucking soaked it's pathetic," he laughs lowly, shaking his head, and trailing a finger along the dampened material, coated in your previous orgasms and current arousal. He sends a soft smack with the back of his hand to your swollen clit, causing a whimper to leave your lips. "You'll let me have you any way I want, huh?"

"Luke-"

"Don't talk, I already know the answer," he raises your legs so your heels are resting on the edge of the desk, fingers ghosting the inside of your thighs teasingly, "Because here you are, spread out on my fucking desk like the whore you are."

"Please-"

"God, you just can't listen, huh?" his hands retreat from your skin, fumbling with his necktie, folding it into a neat little square. "I said I don't wanna hear you, Y/N." leaning over you, the tip of his cock pressing against your clothed core, he forces the folded tie between your lips, gagging you. "There, much better."

Luke works quickly to pull the pathetic excuse for underwear down your legs, tossing them alongside your dress on the floor. His cock twitches at the sight of you, fucking glistening and leaking just for him. He trails two fingers up your wetness, slicking his cock with your arousal, and prodding the tip against you. "Look at me," he says, hovering over you, hands on either side of your head. Hesitantly, you meet his eyes, your own widening, "Wanna watch you take my fucking cock."

You look so fucking pretty all gagged up for him. Running his tongue along his lower lip, he roughly juts his hips forward, instantly bottoming out and a muffled scream leaves your lips at the stretch. The tears that brimmed your eyes previously begin to fall, feeling so full, "Fuck," he hums lowly.

He rocks his hips a few times, watching as your eyes practically roll back into your head. And god does that make him so fucking proud, staring at you as drool slowly dribbles from yourr lips. He halts, roughly tugging the tie from your mouth, fingers gathering the spit and shoving it between your lips. "Don't be messy," he tuts, before placing the tie back, "Already fuckin' droolin' like a whore and I'm barely getting started."

Luke retracts his cock, hands grasping at your hips and flipping your body, the sound of your stomach colliding with the wooden desk echoing through the room. "I don't wanna look at you," he says, palming the skin of your backside before smacking the smooth flesh. He realigns himself with your entrance, one hand splayed on your bare back to hold you in place.

Roughly thrusting inside once again, the moans and muffled choked sobs barely reach Luke's ears, too fucking entranced by the feeling of your tight little cunt taking him so well. "This," he rocks his hips forcefully, "Is fuckin' mine. Anytime I goddamn want it, you're gonna give it to me."

You scramble to grab the opposite edge of Luke's desk, white knuckling it as he forcefully pounds into you, so fucking deep and quick you can barely breathe. "Such a tight fuckin' cunt," he groans, fingernails scraping along your back, "Taking my cock like a good fuckin' slut."

Instinctively you clench around him, eliciting a deep borderline growl from Luke's throat, hand previously raking down your back finding your hair, fisting the strands between his fingers and yanking you backwards until you’re halfway to his chest. You rest your palms flat on the desk, eyes pinched shut in pleasure while he continues fucking into you at an unruly pace.

"Clench again for me," he moans out, feeling the muscles in his stomach tighten, his orgasm slowly beginning to build. You comply, your thighs trembling, clenching as hard as you can. "Fuckin' god," Luke tosses his head back, eyelids fluttering shut in pure bliss.

You choke out another moan around the tie in your mouth, unable to warn the blonde of your third orgasm that's quickly approaching as he continuously pokes the perfect spot so fucking deep inside you’re nearly a drooling mess. The hand not entangled in your hair grips one of your breasts roughly, sending you over the edge in a series of muffled cries. Tears stream down your cheeks, cunt tightening around Luke yet again, the blonde hissing as he feels your release coat his cock, the slick sound of his thrusts growing louder.

"Fuckin' milkin' my cock like a whore," he spits out, grip tightening on your hair as he pulls you closer, thrusting into you impossibly harder. You can't fucking think, you’re a dizzy mess and can hardly form a thought. You can't even feel the drool pooling from the edges of your lips. "Gonna fill up that sweet little cunt of yours and make you mine."

Luke pulls you flush to his chest, your head lolling against his shoulder. Though he isn't one for kissing, he doesn't hesitate to graze his teeth against your exposed neck, sinking them into the supple flesh as his hips begin to stutter, groaning against your neck as he releases inside. You wince at the rough bite on your neck but you’re too spent to care, leaning fully against him as he rocks through his orgasm.

You’re in a daze when he pulls out of you, nearly falling against the desk, the blonde quickly reaching for you to keep you upright. Though he's smug and feeling overly satisfied for ruining you, a swirl in his stomach tells him he needs to make sure you’re alright. He pulls the tie from your mouth, not commenting on the drool spilled from your lips. "Y'okay?"

You can't fucking speak.

Luke's brows furrow with worry, hand delicately grasping your jaw and searching your hazy eyes. Pupils blown out just like his, fresh tears lingering on your cheeks. "Oh, baby," the pet name falls from his lips effortlessly, "C'mon."

Tucking his softening cock into his pants and guiding you away from his desk and towards the couch, he plucks your heels from your feet. Though he'd never in a million years consider aftercare, he's stripping his button down from his broadened frame and slipping your arms inside, buttoning it to cover your exposed body. "Luke," you toss your head back onto the plush couch.

"Hm?" he hums softly.

"I need to- need to clean up," you rasp quietly, a hint of a blush on your cheeks, head reeling from the soreness between your thighs.

"That's what m'here for," he coos sweetly, though the smirk of his lips has you swallowing thickly. His ringed hands trail along your warm and flushed skin, parting your trembling thighs, the sight of his release slowly dribbling out of your sweet cunt nearly has his cock stiffening in his slacks again. "Mm, such a pretty wrecked little pussy."

A gasp leaves your lips as he leans forward, nose brushing your lower stomach, tongue gathering his cum from your sensitive folds. Lapping up every fucking drop, Luke straightens himself out, reaching a hand towards your swollen lips and parting them with his thumb. You’re beyond confused as he tightly grips your jaw, before spitting the contents into your own mouth. Swiping any remnants from his own lips, he narrows his eyes. "Fuckin' swallow."

Clasping your pretty lips shut, you comply, feeling a stir in your stomach when your eyes meet, and swallow.

"My good fuckin' girl."

#luke hemmings imagine #luke hemmings x reader #luke hemmings x y/n #luke hemmings fanfic #luke hemmings x you #luke hemmings smut #5sos smut #5sos fanfic #5sos imagine #5sos x reader #smut

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winterrrnight · 10 months

Text

secret admirer (reader's pov)

PAIRING: high schooler!soft!rafe cameron x high schooler!fem!reader

SUMMARY: the reader has a secret admirer who drops letters, flowers and some other little souvenirs in their locker.

WARNINGS: a lot of cliches, falling down and getting wounded, and some fluffy fluff :) if I missed something let me know! Please ignore any grammatical/spelling errors

EDITH SPEAKS: buckle up bffs because this is long!! Please note the following before you read:

both reader and Rafe are well versed in French.

The French translations are given side by side in the oneshot.

I don't speak French so everything has been gathered from the internet. If there are any mistakes, please let me know.

I'm not American so I've had a very different high school experience: I never had detentions in our school. So everything has been written based upon what I've seen in American shows :)

And that's it! I hope you enjoy reading, please like and/or reblog to show your love <3 feedback is highly appreciated! 💐

UPDATE: I have made a whole secret admirer universe! The link of its masterlist is given below <3

navigation || join my taglist || requests || series masterlist

As the class comes to an end, you walk out and go to your locker. You dial in your locker combination, and just as you open it, an envelope falls out and drops in the ground.

Confused, you bend down and pick it up. The envelope is plain white, and its flap is glued at place. You pull open on the flap, and find a folded piece of letter inside.

"Oooooo what's that?" Your friend says, smiling. "Looks like a love letter."

You shake your head. "I doubt it's a love letter," you say as you unfold your paper. A single sentence in cursive writing is scrawled on the paper. It takes you a second to realise it's written in French.

Je rêve de toi.

It translates to "I dream of you".

Who can write this to you? Thoughts clink around your mind like ice in a glass of water. Suddenly, you feel something drop out of the envelope. You look down at the floor, curious.

It's a little daisy.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

Since then, a little gift always awaits for you in your locker every few days. Every time it's a letter with a simple sentence in French written on it in fountain pen. It's accompanied with a little flower, or a small piece of chocolate, and one time, it was a bracelet.

You've tried your best to figure out who's been sending you these. No one in class has flirted with you, so you don't even have any options to consider. The thought that someone secretly likes you does make your heart swoon, but at the same time it also concerns you. What if it's someone pulling jokes on you, just playing with your delicate heartstrings? You really hope it isn't the second one, because if it is, it will leave you heartbroken in a way you've never been heartbroken.

But you can't deny the smile the letters bring on your face. You collect the flowers and press them in between the pages of your journal. Every chocolate you've received so far is the kind you like, which makes you wonder how does this person know what kind of chocolates you are into. And the bracelet, well, it's tied securely around your wrist.

You reach school, and with hope in your heart filled to the brim, you open your locker. The smile on your face is as bright as the stars when you see an envelope.

Before you can open it, the ringing of the bell makes you look up. The first class has started and you're still in the hallway.

"Shit," you curse, as you hurriedly throw the envelope in your bag and rush to your English class. The scene in the class will not be pretty: your teacher isn't fond of late comers. Well, saying he isn't fond of them is an understatement. He hates their guts.

With your heart beating faster than the speed of light, you look through the small gap in the door of the class. Your teacher is extremely punctual, and as always, the class has started. He's walking around the class, handing your previous tests. You take in a deep breathe and open the door. The sound of the door opening makes everyone look up at you.

"Well, well, well, look who decided to show up," your teacher says, passive aggressiveness laced in his voice.

"I'm, I'm sorry, it won't happen again-"

"Oh looks like we have another late comer," your teacher says, cutting you off. Confused, you turn around to see Rafe Cameron standing behind you. His uniform shirt isn't buttoned properly; random buttons connected to the wrong holes, his belt is missing, and his hair is messed up. He looks like he just woke up.

You feel your cheeks heat up from the warmth of his body. He's standing right behind you, and if you walk a millimetre back, you would crash right into him.

"I'm so sorry, I swear I set an alarm but it didn't ring and-" Rafe starts to ramble.

"DETENTION! Both of you!" Your teacher yells. You flinch at his sudden loud voice. He signs two detention slips and hands those to the both of you. He dismisses you swiftly by closing the door on your faces.

You look down at the detention slip in your hand and sigh. You look up at Rafe to see he's looking at you. You break your small eye contact with him and look at your shoes.

"Shall we go?" He asks you. You nod at him, still not looking at him. In silence, you both walk to the detention room. It's just a classroom which isn't in use anymore. Your PE teacher is the one who will be supervising you. When you reach the classroom, you're surprised to see it's only you and Rafe in the detention. Usually it's around 5 - 10 students at this time in detention.

The teacher is inside, his nose buried in a magazine. He doesn't lift his head up when you and Rafe and walk in, and take adjacent seats. Only when you both sit down, the teacher lifts an eye to see you both.

"Just two of you?" He says, and you nod. "Well that's going to be a waste of my time." He closes his magazine, drops it on the table and stands up from his chair.

"I'll be here in an hour to let you both out. Don't do anything dumb, you're being watched." He says, leaving the classroom and closing the door behind him.

It gets extremely silent in the room, it's so silent that you can hear a pin drop. Your breathing is the only sound filled in the room, along with the constant ticking of the clock hanging on a wall.

You can't believe you're in a class room all alone with Rafe Cameron. It's pretty much given away that he's the most popular guy in your school, and not because he's the jock and only sleeps around with everyone, but because he's an actual sweetheart. He's nice to everyone, and has the most beautiful personality. One thing you know for sure is that if someone gets to date him, he will treat them like a royal.

You decide to finish up with some school work you're left with. As you open your bag, you notice the envelope you had completely forgotten about. Eagerly, you pull it out and open it. Today, there's no souvenir in it. Only a folded piece of paper.

You unfold it, and instead of the usual one line, there are multiple. You read them slowly, as you also translate them in your mind.

Votre âme est un paysage choisi

Que vont charmant masques et bergamasques

Jouant du luth et dansant et quasi

Tristes sous leurs déguisements fantasques

It takes you some fair amount of time to translate the verse. This is what you come up with:

Your soul is a moonlit landscape fair,

Peopled with maskers delicate and dim,

That play on lutes and dance and have an air

Of being sad in their fantastic trim

It suddenly clicks you: the verse if from Claire de Lune. You smile at the French written on the paper, and just read it over and over again in your head.

"What's that?" You suddenly remember that Rafe is right next to you.

"Nothing," you say, folding the paper and putting it back in it's envelope.

"Looks like a love letter, someone's been writing you love letters?" He asks, curiosity in his eyes. You take a few seconds to give him a reply.

"Maybe?"

"What do you mean, maybe?"

You sigh. "I've been receiving these letters which have poetry in French written in them. They usually come along with a little gift, like a small flower or some chocolate. But, there's no name on the paper whatsoever, so I have no way of knowing who is it, if it's legit or if someone is playing a prank on me."

"I don't think it's a prank, you know." You look up at him. He's gazing at you intently.

"You don't?"

He shakes his head. "Someone maybe likes you a lot, and is, i don't know, scared to admit it to you."

"But, why do you think it's not a prank? And how are you so sure it is an actual love letter?"

"Why is it so hard for you to believe that it can be an actual love letter? That someone actually likes you a lot? You're an amazing person, don't decline the thought of someone being your admirer so easily."

At these words leaving Rafe's mouth, you have a small hunch that maybe he's the one writing these letters.

Oh no, he can't be the one. You shake the thought out of your head. He's the most popular guy in the whole school, he can choose anyone, why in hell would he choose you? What does he see in you?

You've never been the one to be in the spotlight, you've always lurked in the shadows. So, when the letters started coming, you did want to believe that you have an admirer. That you are worth of being loved by someone deeply. But you find this thought too good to be true, so you instead believe it's just a prank.

You aren't sure how to respond to Rafe's words. All that slips your lips is a small thank you. You direct your focus back to your schoolwork on hand.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

It's been a week to the detention. Since then, instead of every other day, the letters have been appearing every single day. This morning, you had a bigger envelope than usual. The size of the letter inside is the same, but there are more gifts than usual. Instead of the usual single flower, you have a daisy chain. There are many chocolates instead of one, and there are two new bracelets.

At this point, you are starting to get a lot more concerned than before. Someone's out there spending money on getting you chocolates and bracelets, and you don't even know how to thank them for it; you can only do that if you know who the person sending you these gifts is.

You keep the little gifts in your locker and take the letter. As usual, there is one line scrawled on the centre of the page, the cursive handwriting perfect as it is each time.

Je vous souhaite d'être follement aimée.

"My wish is that you may be loved to the point of madness." You whisper. You softly trace the words on the paper with your fingertip.

"Who are you?"

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

The sky has suffused into hues of pinks and oranges, and you get on your bike. You're on your way to your favorite place: the strawberry field. You found that field when you were cycling around the area at the mere age of 6. Since then, you absolutely love going to that place at all times. The heavenly scent of strawberries will be settled all around the field, especially due to them being in season.

You reach the field in a few minutes. You take your bike to the small trail in the field, which is accompanied by perfectly manicured bushes of strawberries around it. Following the trail leads to a massive opening right in the middle of the field, which has a big tree planted in it. You love to pluck the strawberries and then sit under the shade of the tree as you eat them and watch the sunset.

Just as you reach the tree, you notice something unusual. There is a notepad, along with a bottle of ink and a fountain pen. You look around to see if you can spot the owner of the stuff. A sudden rustle in the bushes a little farther on your right increases the rate of your heartbeat. The sound of the rustling increases with each passing second, and suddenly, a head pops out.

Your eyes widen at the sight. "Rafe?" You ask, completely dumbfounded. Rafe is holding a basket full of the ripe strawberries. He's wearing a button up paired with a simple pair of trousers. The sleeves of the button up are rolled up to his elbows and you notice sweat shining on his forehead and his neck.

"Oh, hey," he says, completely frozen in the spot. None of you are able to comprehend the current situation at hand.

"I didn't expect to see you here, what are you doing here?" You question.

"Nothing, just... just getting some of these strawberries. I've heard they're really good," he says, coming out of the bushes. He walks up to you, and stands right in front of you, not leaving much distance between you two.

"How did you... how did you find out about this place? I come here almost every single day and I never see you here. Why suddenly today?"

You need to know why he's here. You need to know why does he have that notepad and a fountain pen. The hunch you had the other day, the one which you dug deep in your heart because you just believed it isn't true, is starting to come back up.

Rafe is just standing there, looking at you. He doesn't have anything to say. While you're waiting impatiently for him to tell you everything. You don't want to believe your gut feeling unless you have a concrete proof of it.

"Why do you have that notepad with you, with that fountain pen?" You swallow the lump in your throat.

"For you. It's all for you. It's all always been for you." He whispers. You feel like you're frozen right at your position. "These," he says, pointing to the strawberry basket, "these are for you too."

"But... why me?" You mumble. Your mind doesn't want to believe this. No, this can't be true. The person who everyone will fall on their knees for can choose anyone, but instead he chose you.

"Because," he walks closer to you, places a finger under your chin and gently pushes it up so you can look him right in his eyes, "I want you to know how special you are. You deserve nothing but love, and this is just me showing you that." His hand is now on your cheek, and you find yourself feeling comfortable in the warmth of his hand.

"But-"

"No buts. I told you this before too, why are you not willing to believe that you are so worthy of being loved and appreciated? That there is someone who's ready to do this all for you. I could've just come up to you and confessed how I have fallen for you, but that wouldn't be special now, would it? That's what everyone does. And then my purpose of showing you that I'm not like everyone else and how I will shower you with love every single second of my life is defeated. I will bring you the moon, all you have to do is just ask." Rafe says, his voice nothing but a whisper.

But this isn't enough for you. You need to know what he sees in you. You need explanations on why he's doing so much just to see you happy.

"Why me?" It slips out of your mouth, because your mind won't relax unless you hear it all from Rafe's mouth.

"Do you remember kindergarten?"

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

Rafe runs to the swings, a big smile on his face as he finally gets to use it. The swings are never empty, but now he has the chance of getting to take a ride on them.

But, just as he sits down on the swing, a group of boys approaches him. They are all a year older than him, and they love to pretend they own the place.

"Hey! Give us the swing!" The head of the group, Greg demands. Rafe starts to feel scared, but he doesn't show it on his face.

"No!" He says firmly, his grip tightening on the swing. With just a small nudge of his head, Greg motions the boys of the group towards Rafe. They grab onto his shoulders and forcefully throw him off the swing. Rafe screams and feels tears stream down his eyes in pain. But, no teacher is around to help him. Greg laughs in his face and goes to his new found victory: the swing.

You see it all unfold from the side. You are sitting in the grass all alone. That's where you are every single day, because you don't mix in well with the other kids. When you see Rafe hurt, you rush up to him.

He's still crying when you reach to him. You do nothing, all you do is offer him your hand. Rafe suddenly stops crying and grabs ahold of your hand and with all the strength in your little body, you pull him up. You take him to the teacher.

The teacher gasps at Rafe's condition: teary eyes with dust all over his face and clothes, and two wounds each on his knees. You stand on the side as the teacher gets the first aid kit and starts to treat his wounds. You can't look when Rafe whines at the burning feeling of the antiseptic liquid against his knees. At that moment, all you wanted was to swap places with him so he doesn't have to go through this all.

Once his wounds were all covered in bandaids, you take him to your table in the classroom. From your bag, you pull out your favorite lolipop and hand it to him. Rafe looks at you and the lolipop with wide eyes.

"You are so brave," you say, as you nudge the candy closer to him.

"Thank you," Rafe says, accepting the lolipop from you.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

"From that day, I've never stopped looking at you. As we grew older, I knew you were the one I wanted to be with, and I wanted to reciprocate all that you've done for me. It's not just the lolipop, throughout all the years you've been there for me when no one else was, I just don't want you to think that your efforts go unappreciated." Rafe finishes.

You remember it all really well. All the times in kindergarten when you gave him your food because he dropped his on the ground, when you cut his craft paper for him because he just wasn't able to cut in a straight line the way you can, or when you gave him a pencil each time he forgot one at home.

"Rafe..." You say, starting to feel little tears blur your vision. Before you can hide them from him, Rafe is quick to reach his hands out to your cheeks and to wipe them off.

"This is nothing compared to what you've done for me, those chocolates, little verses of poetry, bracelets," his eyes goes to the bracelet you're wearing, "they don't amount to the things you've done for me in any way. But I just want to show you how amazing you are, and how you deserve the nicest things in the world."

You don't want to hear anything else. You press your lips against his. It takes a second for Rafe to process what's happening. Your arms are quick to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to you as your lips move against his.

You pull back softly and lean your forehead against his.

"Je t'aime. Aujourd'hui. Ce soir. Demain. Pour toujours. Su je vivais mille ans, he t'appartiendrais pour tous. Si je vivais mille vies, je te ferais mienne dans chaacune d'elles." He whispers, his eyes closed.

"I love you. Today. Tonight. Tomorrow. Forever. If I were to live a thousand years, I would belong to you for all of them. If I were to live a thousand lives, I would want to make you mine in each one."

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

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lost-in-time-wanderer · 3 months

Note

obey me characters (or just brothers if you don't want to do them all in one post) reacting to mc calling them "my [their name]" for the first time, so mc calling Lucifer "my Lucifer" and so on?

Hi hi hiiiiii! very sorry i finished this a very late (time management is a skill i’m severely lacking in) but all’s well that ends well, so don’t have any room to complain. Also for the life of me i couldn’t decide between a bullet point format or a more story-telling and flowing one, but i hope you enjoy nothenless!

Brothers Reacting to You Calling Them “My [Brothers Name]”

Older Brothers (You are here) • Younger Brothers

Lucifer

Lucifer was doing his student council duties in his office far into the early hours of morning again when you decide to check in on him.

You knock on the door to his office, but receiving no response, you decide to come in anyways, announcing your presence. When you walk in, you see the fire place in his room almost out; only glowing embers remained inside, causing the chilly weather from the cool night to seep in with nothing to stave it away.

The room’s owner was sitting at his desk, face almost completely obscured with large stacks of paperwork, no doubt recently dumped onto him by Diavolo. Who, now that you think about it, most likely fooled around instead of doing paperwork again, much to the chagrin on Barbatos, and had to rely on his trusty right hand to get the documents done on time.

One look at him shows you all you need to know. His hair is tousled from him running his hand through it multiple times, and his coat seemed to have been discarded haphazardly on the back of his chair, but must have fallen off sometime during the night without him noticing, and is now lying on the floor right behind his chair. His half-rimmed glasses are starting to slide off his nose, and multiple stray papers have ended up on the floor, but considering that he’s also yet to notice your presence, you assume that he’s too tired to resolve any of these issues.

You quickly devise a plan to get him to sleep, or at the very least rest some. Plead the Avatar of Pride, oldest brother of the 7 rulers of hell to take a break.

Yep, that’ll work. You’re a genius.

“My Lucifer, please rest. I know you need to finish these soon, but your health takes priority over some documents.”

Safe to say, you caught him off guard.

If you were looking closely (which of course you were) you could see him momentarily pause doing his paperwork, which was accompanied with the equally brief lull in the calming sound of his fountain pen scratching paper.

You can also see him slightly blushing- don’t or do mention that you saw it though, he’ll get even more embarrassed and might even throw you out of his room (worth it).

“So that’s how you’re going to do this, hmm? Very well, I shall indulge you this time, but do not expect this to work twice.”

Mammon

You were in Mammons room, having been dragged in by him, who wanted to get you to join him in causing more mayhem and another headache for Lucifer.

At this point, you were starting to get a headache yourself, so you try to think of some way to get him to stop talking. You feel a little bit bad, especially because of how much his face lights up when he’s talking to you, but this is for the best. You feel like if he doesn’t stop talking soon, you might just snap.

The perfect plan is right at your fingertips- fluster your tsundere demon. Although, knowing Mammon… this could very well backfire.

You hope Lucifer doesn’t hang both of you from the ceiling for this.

“My Mammon, I don’t think that’s a good idea, especially because Lucifer would have both of our heads if we did that.”

He doesn’t process it at first, just continuing to talk excitedly about his new get-rich-quick scheme for a couple of seconds, but when he does… oh boy.

“Wha-What did ya just say, human?!!?! …of course you’d want me to be yours- I AM the Great Mammon, after all!”

“Whatever you say, my Mammon.”

“…just… don’t forget…”

“Sorry Mammon, i didn’t quite catch that?”

“…you’re MY human, got it?!!”

He may be trying and failing to act all cool and macho, but he’s nothing if not head over heels in love with you, and even more so after you pulled this little stunt on him.

Leviathan

You’re killing him.

No, really, you’re gonna be the death of him.

You were just hanging out in his room, watching him grind all of the daily rewards in one of his games while scrolling through DevilTok on your DDD.

This was one of his older games that he’s been playing for quite a while (which might just be longer than you’ve been alive, but you’d rather not dwell on that thought too much). Lately he’s become invested in becoming number one on the leaderboard, and hasn’t come out of his room, so you’re there to keep him company.

“MC, i finally finished with this game, could you hand me the one on the shelf next to you? It just got released, and i need to record a speed run for all of the people who rely on my streams and reviews!” You decided that this is the perfect opportunity to call him that. After all, what’s more fun than teasing your adorable easily-flustered otaku?

“Sure thing, my Leviathan.”

You see him go perfectly still and silent for a second, and then a beet red blush starts spreading from the tips to his ears to his face, and all the way down to his neck.

“AAAAAAAAAHHHHH-“

Ow.

After getting over the sudden assault on your eardrums (and Levi’s astounding vocal capabilities), you simply stare at him with a raised eyebrow.

“T-th-that’s such a n-normie move of y-you!!!

… d-do you really mean that? Like, you aren’t pulling my leg or something?!? This isn’t some normie joke??!”

Congratulations, you have a very embarrassed snek on your hands now!

Check out my masterlist HERE?

Visit “#lost in time fanfics” and “#lost in time fanart” to see more stuff made by me :)

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mncxbe · 5 months

Note

Hi, I was wondering if I could request bsd characters (you can choose, im sure you know what characters you’d like to write for best) with a reader who’s bad at numbers/maths and stuff like that

This is so silly I love it (excuse any mistakes I didn't proof read this one)

°☆○

𝑲𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒌𝒊𝒅𝒂

ofc I had to include Kunikida

as a former Maths teacher he gets so annoyed with you (in a very silly way) whenever you struggle with numbers.

you're supposed to calculate Ada's monthly expenses but just can't get the hang of it so he ends up doing it for you

if he's in a good mood he may explain you how it's done

"How do you not get this?" he groans for the nth time that afternoon "Jesus Christ how did you end up doing the accounts?"

"I dunno" you cry out, staring at the papers in front of you with a desperate look on your face. "Please help me Kunikida I really can't do this"

He only sighs in response, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he drags a chair from a nearby desk to sit next to you. He grabs the pen from your hand "Don't I always..."

𝑭𝒚𝒐𝒅𝒐𝒓

he straight up side eyes you; may also call you stupid

doesn't even try to help you with Maths, he just does it himself

Fyodor's gaze follows you as you walk around the rows and piles of books in the store, carrying a stack of books.

"Fedya honey what was the budget again?"

He tells you the sum absentmindedly and sighs as he watches you stuggle to add up the money you were gonna spend so far. You check the price tag on the back of each book, brows quirking as you tried to calculate the sum.

"That's 2.800 yen myshka. You've got about 1.4k left" he points out, earning a smile from you.

You thank him in that cheerful tone of yours and he can't help but smile, the crease between his brows growing a little bit softer.

𝑱𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒐

he doesn't really mind it as long as it doesn't inconvenience him in any way; in fact, he finds it amusing

but let's assume you're Fukuchi's assistant and you need to calculate the expenses for a month's missions and you just can't, so he has to stay overtime to help you

he's a bit pissed off about it but deep down he's happy he can help (we all know he's secretly a softie)

When Jouno found you in your office a couple of hours ago you were sitting at your desk with your face buried in the palms of your hands, crying lile there was no tomorrow. When he asked you what was wrong you started rambling on about how you were supposed to hand in the final report by tomorrow but you had forgotten your phone at home so you had no way of doing the Maths.

"Just do it yourself" he said plainly but you shook your head in disdain.

"I've always been shit at Maths"

"What do you mean? You've literally been hired to do the accounts" he commented, crossing his arms over his chest. Jouno could tell how embarassed you were by the sound of your rapid heartbeat.

"Yea... well, I never do it. The captain handles the accounts himself, I just make sure the papers are in order and you know, restock his alcohol supply when it runs low."

The man sighed, taking a seat next to you "Good lord, why am I even surprised. Alright, I'll help you out. Wouldn't want you getting fired"

𝑲𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒊 (for the silly)

he's kinda bad with numbers too but he does his best to cheer you up

"Don't worry Y/N. I'm sure you've got this" the blonde smiled, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

"No, Kenji. I can't do this right now" you sighd, discarding your fountain pen somewhere on top of the papers.

"I really wish I could help, but I doubt I'm the right person for that. Maybe you could ask Kunikida to help"

But of course you couldn't ask Kunikida to help; you weren't in the mood to get scolded again. Leaning back into your chair, your gaze skimmed over the room when you eventually spotted Ranpo at his desk. He was mindlessly flipping through a paper, sucking on his lollipop.

"Kenji, I bet you a gallon of milk that Ranpo's gonna this for me if I give him the slice of cake I bought for lunch"

Your colleague only smiled on response, nodding "I'm really sure he will"

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd headcanons #bsd jouno #jouno saigiku #bsd kenji #kunikida x reader #bsd kunikida #fyodor bsd #fyodor x reader

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hyperfixat · 1 year

Text

Yandere Lucifer (the brothers are also here and in love but we aren’t terribly focused on them.) ABSOLUTELY NOT BETA READ ‼️

more under cut :p .. ~2.2k words

pt2

Lucifer who lets you in his office, on the clause that you don’t cause trouble or make too much noise. He lets you sit on the carpet, the hardwood floors, the chairs near the fireplace, and even the spot across from him. Such a powerful demon, with a weak spot for you.

So much goes into keeping you alive, even in the comfort of his office, he has to make sure he’s using enough magical energy to dampen and absorb curses from any vinyls he has spinning, so as to not melt your tiny human brain. He has to make sure you have water, keep the room at an adequate temperature, make sure he provides you with human safe snacks, but he can’t bring himself to mind.

Your presence calms the ache in his soul, his head, and his heart.

He’s so far gone into the pits of love, that he’d kill, torture, and slay for you. Even on a whim. Sure he had a pact with you, but you wouldn’t need to use it, he’d follow you wherever. A loyal dog is the Morningstar.

And you, you don’t even seem to realize the effect you have on him, his brothers, those worthy to be around you. It’s maddening, your naïvety. So many demons, hungry for your flesh and soul, but you just.

Everything about you drives him further into love, borderline obsession. You’re perfect. He barely has to do a thing and you look at him like he hung the stars in the sky. (He did create a few of them, but still). Don’t you understand he’d give you the world? Anything for you…

His fountain pen scratches away at the endless pile of documents on his desk. It never ends. Diavolo wants this, RAD needs that, there's another suit being filed against Mammon… it won’t end. It’s well into the evening, perhaps eleven pm, and you should be asleep by now, but he longs for you to pay him a visit.

He could take a break, a tiny one, head down to your room, where you would surely be, tucked into your bed with one (or more) of his brothers snoring on top of you.

A sigh rips through him.

No, he should just get this work done, then he can rest (hopefully) and see you in a few hours at breakfast.

Mammon, a pest, a loveable pest, but still a pest, had hidden away two weeks worth of bills, ie a lot. Lucifer will not be getting sleep tonight.

“Ah, forgive me,” Lucifer says as he yawns. “I’m afraid I had a rather long night.”

Lucifer, third most powerful denizen of the Devildom, holds a lot of power. At times it has frightened you, how close his slips in emotional control have led you far too near your grave. But more often than not it lulls you into safety.

Your first year in the Devildom, your relationship with Lucifer was quite rocky, seeing as your insubordination was not welcomed, and you pried apart doors that should not be opened, but he managed to fall for you anyway. All your silly, human flaws and quirks melt into oblivion in Pride’s gaze.

It slipped beyond his notice as to when his attachment to you went too far. Lucifer won’t complain, can’t bring himself to even care that he’s so deeply infatuated with you. You do so much for him, his family.

The night you formed your pact and the time spent after, holding you close, keeping your small human body up against his own. It burned a permanent spot in his memory, a figure as large and grand as the Taj Mahal.

Lucifer is far from dumb, his brothers fell for you far before he did, Mammon, Leviathan, Beelzebub, Asmodeus, Satan, he can’t pin down where Belphegor grew to love you, but it’s clear he does.

“Is there anything I can help with?” And there it is. You’re so heart achingly kind, to him, to demons. A smile graces his face before falling.

“No, thank you, little one. I appreciate the offer. I should finish up in an hour or so.”

You hum thoughtfully and press a kiss into his hair. “Goodnight, Lucy. Sleep well.”

And how can he not, with you snuggled into his bed, safe. It will always give him an easy rest when you’re with him, because no harm can fall upon you as long as Lucifer is there.

And so, as another year comes to a close and your term at RAD comes to an end, he realizes that he wouldn’t live if he let you go. He needs you to breathe, to function.

It’s silly, more than a little silly, but the ache in his chest that caves deeper and deeper every mommy you’re away will collapse if he can’t hold you, can’t kiss you goodnight, can’t taste the horribly bitter coffee you brew. The Avatar of Pride needs you to feel whole.

The Demon Brothers (New) (7)

Lucifer: Everyone, come to my office after today’s classes end, important discussion.

Mammon: Everyone?!

Levi: Are we in trouble?

Levi: 😨

Asmo: Group Orgy?!!? ☺️

Lucifer: No. It concerns MC, by the way. So tardiness is not acceptable.

Belphie: Are they okay?

Levi: asmo stfu

Beel: Did something happen?

Mammon: 😮

Lucifer: No.

— end discussion.

“We all care deeply for MC. And with your help I have a plan to let them stay with us forever.”

Lucifer does what he does best, justifies his actions. Clearly Mammon keeps his spending under control much better with you around, and Asmodeus won’t bring unsolicited visitors into the House of Lamentation anymore. Satan’s never been harder to deal with than when you’re away, so really, he needs to keep you around. They need to keep you around.

Lucifer doesn’t keep many secrets from Lord Diavolo. This situation is complicated. Diavolo won’t want the Celestial Realm to see you as a hostage, that’d be an act of war, no doubt. But. Lucifer is confident in his brothers and his ability to convince you to stay.

Keeping you under the radar, away from the Prince, will be hard. Harder than locking Belphie away, because his brother knew he was a prisoner. He doesn’t want you to feel like you don’t have a choice.

It isn’t the first time Lucifer discovered a brother with blood stained clothes and a feral look in their eyes. The frequency of these discoveries have increased exponentially. Mammon and Satan were the obvious offenders, but each and everyone of them have sulked home after a kill since MC has arrived.

It’s an odd sense of vigilantism. In a way. Anyone who dares look at you wrong could face the force of an Avatar.

If they were anyone but the Avatars that they are, surely they’d be prison bound, but being powerful and near worshiped has its perks.

The picture in front of him paints him thick with panic, and anxiety. Mammon is covered in blood. The fear isn’t for his brother, it’s for you. You’ve seen them with evidence of their true nature, humans don’t like that.

Mammon’s ruined everything, but a bitter strike of envy runs through Lucifer when he realizes what you’re doing. Cleaning him up, placing a cutesy human bandage on the single scratch Mammon obtained in his fit.

Lucifer bristles quietly.

“What is this?” His voice makes both of you jump, and you gasp quietly.

“Uh, I, uhm, I fell.” Mammon makes a poor excuse as he takes you into his wingspan protectively. You stumble into his younger brother’s chest and he scoffs.

“Sure.” Lucifer bites sarcastically. “MC, why don’t you tell me what’s going on.” He knows he has you cornered and the smug look on his face proves it. When you hesitate and look to Mammon, he quirks an eyebrow.

“He, uh,” you look back at Mammon. “Hhgh. I’m not supposed to tell you.”

“Mammon.” Lucifer harshly directs his emotions.

“Agh, they’ve been cleaning me up when I go out, I didn’t mean for them to know, big bro! They just kinda saw me all bloody and started doing it, this.”

“He told me you’d be upset if you knew I saw him like this, but I don’t mind! I like taking care of your brothers.”

Lucifer watches you fiddle with the bandage wrapper in your hands and then at Mammon, holding you at the waist, looking like a kicked puppy.

“Do you even know what he was doing? What any of us do when we go out to return bloodied?” Lucifer raises himself high, a sharp glare in your direction. Even when you flinch slightly he doesn’t back down despite the ache of hurt he feels for your little human heart.

“Uh, I figured it wasn’t my place to ask.”

It takes Lucifer a moment to nod and dismiss himself with a simple, “very well.”

Lucifer

Lucifer: I am not upset with you, MC. I am upset that my brother has been taking advantage of your kindness.

Lucifer: You do know they’ve been killing humans and demons alike? All of them.

Lucifer: Don’t fret, you’ll always be safe with me.

MC: demons’ll be demons i suppose

MC: as long as i’m not the one dying 🤞

Lucifer: 🤨

First it was Mammon, then it was Belphie, then Asmo; Satan, Beelzebub, and Leviathan. He didn’t need you to take care of him, of course not. Lucifer aches for his touch, a traitor to his pride, he wants you to pepper him with kisses and your cute band aids.

It’s rare Lucifer actually makes a kill, mostly because no one dares cross him or speak ill of his family while his ears may hear. A foolish middle class demon let slip a confession of his attraction to you while Lucifer passed.

Logically he knows that is an unreasonable reason to murder, but the part of his mind and soul filled with love infatuation desire wont listen to reason. Ice spikes his heart. No demon, angel, nor human should harbor such feelings for you. They will never live up to what he holds for you, what he could give to you.

And so, venom in his body, Lucifer strikes from shadow, a clean kill, not much to it. Then the memories of you patching his brothers flashes through his mind, and ugh, he knows he could get your undivided attention if he messes himself up just a little.

When you find him, bloodied, uniform absolutely darkened with drying blood, at your bedroom door, your jaw drops.

Finally, he gets the pleasure, the reward of your hands cleaning his face, his uniform, tending to him. It was worth the wait, the effort, the time. Perhaps he should find himself bloodied more often if it means having you like this.

While your soft human hands clean his face and freshly unbuttoned shirt he decides to tell you what he’s done. You deserve to know, and a part of him hopes you’ll be thankful. Although there is always the chance reality will sink into your mortal mind and you’ll realize what a monster the Morningstar truly is.

He hopes the latter doesn’t happen, he doesn’t want to hurt you.

As you place the final tiny kitten bandage on his face, and before you think fully about it, you press a gentle peck against his lips.

“Hm? Do you like seeing me kill for you?” He smiles against your lips and his hot breath leaks into your own. “You like having the Avatar of Pride avenge you?”

An embarrassing noise escapes you as Lucifer pulls away from your lips to kiss your hairline.

“There isn’t a thing in all the realms I wouldn’t do for you, you know that?”

You exhale against his chest, before breathing him in.

“Thank you, Lucifer.”

A low purring, perhaps growling, revs itself in his throat. Lucifer loves his little human, but he doesn’t like sharing them. If he proves himself better than his brothers, they’ll be all his. But their heart is so big, perhaps he’ll have to settle for being the favorite. The best.

He noses along the hollow of your neck, breathing you in, “I love you.” Lucifer feels the way your heart flutters beneath your skin and he’s near delirious with the scent of you filling his lungs.

You, you, you; your hands on his chest, his face, so gentle with him as if he is the fragile one. He’s possessed with the desire to claim you, to bite and mark you for his brothers to see that he is the right one for you, he is your favorite, your proper suitor.

Teeth strong enough to snap steel, ghost around your jugular and draw in a sharp gasp from you. But he refrains from blemishing your precious human skin. When his head is clearer (if it ever will be clearer around you), he’ll mark you so, so carefully.

Your hands tangling into the roots of his hair brings him back into the moment, and he reaches his head back to capture your lips. Yes, he’ll just have to do this again.

#verified hyperfixat post #obey me #obey me lucifer x mc #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer obey me #yandere obey me shall we date #yandere obey me #yandere lucifer #obey me lucifer x you #rahh

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