NSFW, kissing, marking, oral (f receiving), slight hair pulling, dry humping, reader is implied to be chubby/plus size
word count: 972
summary: trying to drag him from his work went better than you had planned.
a/n: this is purely self indulgent sin not sorry also im not too happy with this but oh well
You were sitting in in one of the plush chairs in his study as he worked on the mountain of paperwork sitting on his desk. You stared at him, he looked exhausted, slight dark circles under his eyes and a furrow in his brow that told you he was getting frustrated.
You frowned. You wanted him to take a break, knowing that despite the his protest, he would appreciate it. So, you stood up from your spot and strolled over to him. His eyes snapped to you and he let out a small hum. Plopping yourself in his lap, you sighed and ran your fingers through his hair.
"Y/n, you know I have to finish this paperwork. I don't have time for breaks." He said sternly. You pouted, giving him puppy dog eyes that he had learned not to fall for.
He sighed. Maybe he could give into them this once.
He simply nodded, a sign that you could continue. You smiled and kissed him, a warmth spread through his chest and he deepened the kiss.
Grabbing at the hair at the back of your head and gently pulling, he kissed you with a fervor that made your head spin. His tongue swiped at your bottom lip, asking you to open your mouth. Your back met the desk as his tongue tangled with yours. You pulled away breathlessly and he quickly dragged you back in to continue kissing you passionately.
You panted and moaned between kisses, your tongues dancing. With shaky hands, you reached up and undid his tie and a few buttons of his shirt. You were desperate to feel more of him as you ran your hands over his warm skin.
He leaned back to pull your shirt off and undo your bra. He groaned as your chest was freed, immediately springing to action to attack your collarbone.
He pressed open-mouth kisses to your neck and chest. Rolling one of your nipples between his fingers, you hadn't even realized that he discarded his gloves. You let out soft, desperate moans at the way his hot mouth sucked and nipped at the spot right below your ear. The ache between your thighs was becoming too much to bear. You began grinding against him in an attempt to soothe your arousal.
He groaned at the way you dragged your clothed cunt against him. You could feel how hard he was getting, encouraging you to continue. He grabbed your hips to help guide you against the tent forming in his pants, pressing his lips to your neck to muffle any lewd sounds.
Whimpering, you picked up your pace. You gasped out his name, a subtle beg, you needed this. He needed this.
"Stand up." He rasped, holding your hips in place. You gave him pleading eyes, but obliged. He stood as well, and gently pushed you back into the chair. Settling between your legs and spreading them for better access, peeling off your wet panties.
You squirmed impatiently, eager for what was to come. As he leaned in he began pressing kisses to your thick thighs, hands gently squeezing at them.
He roughly bit and sucked at your thighs, making you squeak out of surprise. Purple marks already began to form. He reached one hand up to gently grab and squeeze at your tummy, occasionally rubbing reassuring circles on it with his thumb.
He spread your pussy open with his fingers and licked languid stripes up and down your folds, all while his lidded eyes were locked on your expression.
Oh, you looked so beautiful above him. His eyes scanned you, taking in every dip, curve, and stretch mark. He relished every pant and whimper that came from your mouth. Who knew someone so sweet could make such filthy sounds?
His tongue flicked at your sensitive clit, making you elicit a gasp. His mouth latched onto the bud and began sucking, drawing out an embarrassingly loud moan. The blush on your cheeks deepened and you reached a hand up to cover your mouth, but he grabbed your wrist.
"None of that, darling. Let me hear how good I make you feel." He drawled. His tongue lapped at your wet entrance and you keened. Writhing in pleasure above him, you threaded your fingers through his hair, his pride swelling with every sinful noise you made.
He let out a pleased hum at the way you mewled and arched into his touch. The thought alone of making you cum sent him into a quickened pace. He bathed in the absolute ecstasy he caused you.
You let out a choked sob, your orgasm approaching rather quickly. You tightened your thighs around his head as he switched between plunging his tongue into your cunt and circling your swollen clit. He groaned, the vibrations rippling through you.
When you finally reached your peak, you came hard. Tears formed in the corners of your eyes as your hands tugged at his hair. He continued lapping at you, wanting every last drop of your cum as you twitched against him.
Everything was hazy after that, you couldn't bring yourself to open your eyes. You felt him picking you up and sitting you on his lap as you dozed off, bliss and calmness washing over you. He pressed a kiss to your temple with a relieved sigh.
The only time he can truly find solace is when he’s with you. Whether it be soft, gentle moments, or truly sinful moments such as these. His pride may make it difficult to let you find out, but part of you knows deep down. You can see it in the way his eyes soften when you're around, the way he kisses you, even in the way he runs his hands over your soft curves at night. He absolutely adores you, and you adore him.
It's all fun and games until Mephisto thinks you need to be brought to heel.
MEPHISTOPHELES x Yandere!Reader
3.1k words | NSFW | gn!Reader | Yandere Elements
Content warnings: Obsessive thoughts/behaviours, minor stalking, invasion of privacy, degradation, "human" used as a slur, dehumanizing names (Reader is called "pet"), slut shaming, hurt/malicious comfort, sexually suggestive comments/insults.
Mephistopheles makes it very clear during your first meeting what he thinks of you. His voice drips with disdain and it’s obvious that he has little respect for humans, and even less interest in you personally.
He acts like he’s better than most demons, like he’s more dignified and above his baser instincts, but you can see the truth whenever you manage to catch his gaze. When he looks at you, his eyes betray a primal instinct to kill you or possess you.
Part of you wants to tempt him, to see what he would do to you if he had the chance. You’re fascinated by him and curious about what those dark desires in his eyes truly mean for a human like yourself living in the Devildom. It’s a dangerous game to play with a powerful demon like Mephisto, but the mere thought of it leaves you breathless.
You see glimpses of Mephisto at RAD between classes, but it’s difficult to get close to him. He avoids Lucifer as much as possible; when Lucifer or his brothers are hovering around you, that means Mephisto is usually nowhere to be seen. It’s common knowledge that he’s still very busy working for the newspaper club, even though rumors of his demotion circle widely throughout the school.
Most of the demon brothers don’t care for him, especially Lucifer, so asking them about Mephisto isn’t very useful. However, you do learn a bit more about Mephisto and his family from other classmates at RAD: he’s part of the upper Devildom nobility because of his family’s wealth and influence, and he has close connections to Diavolo. It’s more than you knew before, but it’s not enough.
When the RAD newspaper puts out a call for more volunteers, you don’t hesitate to apply. Mephisto sneers at you when he realizes why you’re sitting in the newspaper club’s office with the advertisement in your lap.
You didn’t expect a lengthy interview process for a volunteer position, but he insists that a lackluster human like yourself might not be a good fit. He asks about your previous experience and for samples of your work, smirking when he knows it’s an unfair demand when you’ve only just arrived in the Devildom.
Mephisto looks too smug and handsome for his own good, and you know he’s about to launch into a scathing rejection of your application (and you personally). Luckily, another demon in the room points out that even humans can still be good for the tasks no one else wants to do, like sorting documents or folding.
You smother a laugh when Mephisto glares at his club acquaintance for interfering. He knows that denying you now would look petty, and word might reach Diavolo that you’re not being treated fairly. He might despise you, but he hates the thought of disappointing Diavolo even more.
You can’t risk losing this opportunity to get closer to him. “Give me a chance, I’ll do anything I can to help,” you say as confidently as you can, and you hope it doesn’t sound too much like begging.
He steeples his fingers under his chin. “Show me how useful humans can be, then.” It’s a challenge, a taunt, and a threat rolled into one drawl of his sharp tongue. The wide smile he gives you is fake and mocking, and all you can see is the tips of his fangs when he licks his lips.
The sight makes you shudder, but not for the reason he thinks it does. He thinks you’re trembling in fear, when you’re secretly wondering what it would be like to run your tongue along those sharp fangs yourself. You’ve never been more aroused in your entire life.
True to his word, Mephisto is determined to make you regret volunteering for the newspaper club. He tells you to do the most boring, tedious chores while barely sparing you a glance. You know what he really wants: he wants you to give up to show everyone that right he was about how useless you really are. You don’t want to give him that satisfaction, and you wear smiles as bright and fake as his own every time he barks at you to do something.
You’re determined not to give up and let him win this little game you’re playing. Unfortunately, you’re no closer to getting to know him better. He avoids spending time with you as much as possible. When you end up in the same room together, usually for club meetings, he gives you orders like you’re his personal servant. Otherwise, he stonewalls all your subtle attempts to lure him into conversation.
You’re at a stalemate, and you’re not sure how to proceed. That’s why it’s nothing less of a shock one night when Mephisto reaches out to you unexpectedly. You didn’t even realize he had your number - he refused it every time you hinted he should have it for club business.
Barbatos gave me your number. There is a mandatory emergency club meeting one hour before class tomorrow to discuss the special edition of this week’s newspaper. Don’t be late.
He doesn’t respond when you thank him, but you don’t expect him to. You save his contact info and go to bed feeling motivated to make a good impression when you see him.
The next morning you arrive at RAD, one hour early like he asked, carrying a box of warm donuts from Madam Scream’s. Most of the demons in the newspaper club yawn and happily accept a sugary-sweet pastry from you. When you offer the box to Mephisto so he can take the last one, he turns his nose up at you and starts the meeting like you aren’t even there.
Feeling slightly deflated, you set the box on a table and take an empty seat while he and the new club president discuss upcoming assignments and deadlines. This week’s special issue is celebrating - well, some sort of holiday in the Devildom you’re not familiar with. As usual, you’re given the tasks no one wants, the ones that will keep you on campus long after classes end. You plaster a smile on your face when Mephisto asks condescendingly if you think you can handle it.
The meeting ends just before the first bell of the day rings, and everyone starts to shuffle out of the office. While you’re gathering your belongings and putting them in your bag, you happen to see Mephisto stroll out of the room after he swipes the last donut from the box. It’s a victory - a small one - but a victory nonetheless.
At the end of the school day, you assure the demon brothers you can get home on your own before heading to the newspaper club’s office. Mephisto wasn’t kidding when he said it was going to be a busy week, for you, anyway. There’s stacks of printouts to be folded, and you know it’ll take at least two nights to get through everything by yourself.
You’re about to sit down at one of the desks and get to work, but you realize someone’s left their computer behind by accident. You think it might be the club president’s, since the laptop is on his desk, but when you look closer, you realize it’s Mephisto’s. The screensaver wallpaper is a portrait of his family, and your first thought is that you think he looks a lot like his mother. It’s the most dignified family photo you’ve ever seen, given the exquisite clothing and jewelry they’re all wearing, and Mephisto has never looked more handsome.
It’s almost an automatic response to get your D.D.D. so you can take a picture. You’re giddy with excitement and drop your phone onto the desk by accident. It lands on the keyboard and brings the machine out of screen saver mode. He doesn’t appear to use any kind of password protection and you can’t believe how lucky you are. It might be arrogance on his part, or maybe he truly has nothing to hide. Whatever the reason, his poor judgment is your gain and you sit down at the desk and casually browse the contents of his document folders.
You don’t know how much time you have before someone finds you snooping in Mephisto’s belongings, but it turns out his computer isn’t the treasure trove you thought it would be. It looks like he primarily uses it for RAD or newspaper club activities. There are a few random photos of him and Diavolo, or him and other demon classmates you don’t know very well. You take pictures of those with your phone; you can’t risk using his computer to email anything to yourself directly.
When you're finished, you make sure to leave the machine exactly the way it was when you found it. You run out of time, and realize you didn't get as much newspaper club work done as you wanted to. You still consider it a productive evening, though - your phone has several new photos of him for you to crop and admire from the comfort of your bedroom later on.
The next day, the newspaper club president catches you outside of class and asks you about your progress - or lack of progress - with your assigned tasks. He doesn’t seem too upset, but he’s concerned maybe it’s too much work for one person. You don’t want to give him or Mephisto the satisfaction of thinking you can’t handle it on your own.
“Oh, I’m really sorry about yesterday. Lucifer asked me to help him with something so I had to leave early.” It’s a lie, but a believable one - most of RAD’s students know by now that you often end up entangled in the demon brothers’ affairs. The newspaper club president accepts your excuse and seems content with your promise to stay later tonight to make up for it.
You walk into the newspaper club office that evening, fully prepared to fold and sort newspapers until you’re numb with boredom, but you freeze in the doorway when you see Mephisto is there. He’s standing at one of the desks facing away from you, and he seems to be looking through some papers. He doesn’t acknowledge you, but you set your bag down on the floor - loudly, on purpose - so he knows you’re there too.
(Oh, he knows. He could smell you coming down the hallway.)
For all your banter and bravery, you can’t help the way your anxiety spikes. You’re rarely alone with him, and you have no idea what to say. There’s a good chance he’ll find some excuse to ridicule you no matter what you do, but you don’t want to give him any reason to leave. It’s better to let him ignore you, so you can bask in his presence and admire him in secret. At times like this, it’s better that he forgets you’re there.
You decide to stay quiet and attempt to focus on what you came here for. You reach for a stack of newspapers to start folding–
“Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” his smooth voice asks quietly, breaking the awkward silence.
You drop a handful of newspapers on the floor in surprise. You kneel down in an instant, scrambling to pick them up before they’re ruined. “I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean.”
You suddenly feel the weight of his powerful aura and when you look up, Mephisto is standing a few feet away from you, arms crossed and eyes blazing.
“Do you think I’m so stupid that I wouldn’t notice someone accessed my personal documents? I know you were rifling through my computer when I forgot it here. No one else was here in the office last night, except for you.” His voice is sharper now, laced with threat. The heels of his boots click on the floor with each slow, purposeful step he makes toward you.
“Did you find whatever it was you were looking for? Something to try and blackmail me with, or to get me in trouble with Lucifer?” he spits the name like it’s venom on his tongue and there’s fiery anger in his eyes.
You scramble backwards to try and keep some space between you, but eventually your back hits a wall and you’ve no place left to go. You realize at that moment you don’t want to die, but he seems to have convinced himself you were trying to hurt him somehow. He couldn’t be more wrong, but you’re not sure what to say.
“It’s not what you think,” you try to explain, desperate to persuade him that whatever mad conspiracy he’s imagining is false.
“Then enlighten me, human,” he sneers angrily, “because I’ve run out of patience for you.”
Your D.D.D. chimes where you’ve left it on the desk. He glares at you with his hands on his hips. “Oh, is that how you saved copies of my documents to give to your precious Lucifer?”
“No, don’t–” you say hurriedly, but he’s too fast - he already has your D.D.D. in hand and he’s swiping the screen to unlock it.
“Once I have proof for Lord Diavolo, you’ll wish you never….” His voice trails off, and his brows knit in confusion. You panic when you realize what he’s staring at: the wallpaper you made with the photos you took from his computer last night.
After a few moments, the baffled look on his face morphs into a sinister smirk and he points the phone in your direction.
“It all makes sense now,” he declares scornfully, eyes widening with newfound understanding. “Your annoying persistence, all your pathetic attempts to try and be friendly and helpful.” He leans forward and the lecherous expression on his face makes your stomach roll. “I didn’t take you for a demon fucker.”
You don’t realize you’ve started crying until he crouches in front of you and flicks away a tear that’s rolling down your cheek. He’s not gentle, and his glove scratches unpleasantly against your skin. Usually he looks at you with annoyance and contempt, but now his eyes are brightened with amusement at your expense; you’re not sure which is worse.
“Now, now, don’t cry,” he coos with false sympathy. “I know you’re only human, but you need to be stronger than this if you want to survive here.” He’s still catching the tears leaking from the corner of your eyes, but you know he’s not trying to comfort you. He’s enjoying your humiliation.
It’s hard to think properly when he’s this close to you. Your emotions are spiraling and you feel overstimulated by his presence. You wanted him, but you weren’t expecting this.
He waits until you stop crying, then he tilts your chin up so you’re forced to look at him. It’s hard not to squirm under his scrutiny. His eyes seem to pierce into your soul, and you can’t look away even if you wanted to. There’s a mean tilt to his smile when he asks, “Are you so desperate for demon cock that the seven princes you live with aren’t enough to satisfy you?”
Your cheeks are hot with embarrassment, but the implication makes you shudder. You’ve never thought of any other demons that way, and the very idea of it is repulsive. He still looks amused, but his question seems genuine, too. It feels like he’s trying to figure out the puzzle that is you and your interest in him. Honesty might be the best approach, even if he kills you for it.
"I’m not interested in them like that,” you admit shakily. “I don’t want anyone else.” You’re desperate to convince him whatever he’s imagining about you and Lucifer or his brothers isn’t true.
“I assumed Lucifer would’ve claimed you for himself by now,” Mephisto admits slowly, like he’s not sure he believes you yet. His eyes trail down your body like he’s seeing you as a living, fuckable person for the first time, rather than some tedious little insect he wanted to crush beneath his heel.
“I’ve only wanted you,” you whisper, and it’s the truth, your vulnerability exposed because whether he realizes it or not, you’re utterly consumed by him.
He cups your cheek, and he’s surprisingly gentle despite the cruel smirk gracing his lips. “Do you want me to take care of you?” he offers. “I bet Lucifer won’t like that,” his mocking tone warns you.
He’s giving you one last chance to reconsider, but Mephisto doesn’t realize you’re already too far gone to turn back now. When he’s finished speaking, his lips curl against his fangs and you whimper at the sight.
To Hell with it. You lean forward and grab the sleeve of his RAD jacket. “I don’t care about him. Please, I’ll do anything you want.” You sound so pathetic, and it reminds you when you nearly groveled like this to join the newspaper club just to be close to him, but you can’t help it. Why bother denying yourself what you’ve wanted this whole time?
He brushes your hand away and stands up before you realize what’s happening. He’s quiet while he regards you, whimpering and cowering at his feet. When he suddenly grabs your arm and pulls you up too, you lose your balance. He catches you and you melt against him like it’s meant to be.
You’re overwhelmed by the intimacy of being close to him. You don’t stop to wonder why he lets you lean against his chest so willingly.
One of his hands strokes your head, and it would be patronizing if it were anyone else but him. He nods towards the piles of forgotten papers you were supposed to fold tonight. “Look at this mess. You still have so much work left to do, pet.”
The word sounds filthy rolling off his tongue, and you can’t bite back the breathy moan that escapes you when you look into his eyes. They glitter dangerously, filled with the same deadly arousal you saw the first time you met him, and you realize you’ve lost this game, after all.
You were always destined to lose against him, you just didn’t know it.
You watch quietly when he reaches for your uniform and starts flicking the buttons of your jacket open. “Perhaps I can be lenient with you tonight, as a reward for your honesty,” he murmurs as he pushes your jacket off your shoulders and onto the floor.
You shiver when he leans forward, his lips brushing against your ear when he speaks. “Now, why don’t you show me just how useful you can really be.”
LUCIFER x gn!Reader
2.7k words | SFW | Angst | No Happy Ending
Content warnings: Major character death (Reader), unrequited love, memory flashbacks and a dream sequence. Brief mentions of blood/fatal injuries (cause unspecified).
A/N: This was an anonymous request for angst involving Lucifer and a cheerful, nagging Reader/MC that he takes for granted.
Lucifer will never forget your last night in the Devildom. He knew long before that moment that you wanted a pact with him. You reminded him often with your not-so-subtle comments about how it felt like something was missing, that you wished the two of you could be even closer.
Unlike Solomon, Lucifer considered your request seriously, debating giving part of himself to you the way his brothers had. But he was proud, and he wanted to make absolutely sure you were worthy of having a pact with him. He resisted you to the very end, even though your persistence was charming, at times.
Lucifer was sitting at the dining room table reading the morning’s paper when you shuffled in, still wearing your sleep clothes like you just crawled out of bed.
When you realized he was there, you yawned and stretched your arms up high above your head. The cropped shirt you wore rode up your belly and he could see some of his brothers’ pact marks etched into your skin. He averted his gaze before he was tempted to stare.
“Good morning, Lucifer!” you said cheerfully, trailing off into another quiet yawn.
You pat your stomach and rested your hand over Beel’s pact mark. “I was just thinking that I have room for another pact mark somewhere, maaaaybe right-” you paused, patting the space above your heart, “here. What do you think? Know any demons interested in making a pact with a ‘lil human like me?”
He scoffed and flicked his wrist, turning the page and barely sparing you another glance. “I’m sure you can find several willing demons if you parade yourself down the street like that,” he suggested dryly.
“Aww, Luci, you’re no fun.” You pouted your lips and he refused to smile, no matter how cute you looked.
Realizing your attempt to seduce him - badly - into a pact had failed, you gave up the ruse and headed towards the kitchen. “I’ll make us some coffee!”
You faced each other that last night in his private study, the cursed TSL album played softly in the background while the fireplace crackled next to you. Both of you were bathed in shadow and flame. He finally gave into temptation to bind you to him and he made you his, his mark etched into your skin forever, but you still looked dissatisfied.
Lucifer realized there were emotions swirling in your gaze that you always tried to hide from him - hope, longing, desire. He knew what else you wanted from him, but he couldn’t bring himself to close the rift between you. It was his last line of defense, the only thing keeping him from becoming yours completely. You were going home, and whatever relationship you wanted with him was about to come to an end. He thought it would be easier this way.
“Lucifer, I–” you started to say, but he grabbed your shoulders and pulled you to him. Whatever you tried to say next was muffled against his chest. He looked down at you and pretended the tears pooling in your eyes didn’t hurt him.
“Don’t,” he warned you quietly. “You have your own life to live, and I promise you that your friendship is more than enough.” He held you like that while you cried quietly against his chest. When he finally convinced you to go to your room to sleep, he stayed up drinking in front of the fireplace and wondered if he made the right choice.
The next morning, it was like nothing happened. You still greeted him in that sickeningly sweet and cheerful voice of yours, and his brothers hovered around you for your attention while they said their goodbyes.
When you promised Lucifer you’d see him again soon, eyes fiery with determination, he believed you would find a way to make it happen. He wondered if things might turn out differently the next time you meet; he wasn’t sure he had the power to resist you a second time.
During the first two weeks after your return to the human world, Lucifer tells himself it’s not bitter regret that swirls uncomfortably at the pit of his stomach and makes his heart ache. His brothers aren’t handling your departure very well, and he refuses to let himself be made a fool by his emotions. He has to be strong and set an example for the rest of them. He can’t let one mere human ruin him. He’s determined to carry on as normal, as though you were never there to begin with.
He will not visit your old room until your scent fades away.
He will not trace the outline of his pact mark with you and wonder if you can feel his fingertips on your skin when he does it.
He will not miss you.
Lucifer doesn’t dream often. Sometimes he does, and he dreams of white feathers burning around him while he falls into a dark abyss. Other times, he dreams of random memories of his brothers, or his long lost sister. In the three months since he last saw you, he’s dreamt of you, too.
But the dream he has tonight is different from the others. You’re both trapped in a grey void. He wants to go to you, but Lucifer can’t move no matter how hard he tries. You’re so close, just out of his reach. There’s something unsettling about your expression - your small, bittersweet smile lacks the mischievous humor he’s so fond of. Your eyes are serious and sad; he thinks you look defeated.
“I’m sorry,” you say weakly, like you’re talking to him from the opposite end of a tunnel even though he’s only a few feet away from you. The words echo in the empty space around him even though you’ve grown silent.
He doesn’t understand what’s going on, and he wants to ask you what you mean, but he’s unable to speak. You flicker before his eyes, fading in and out of focus like a projection. It’s eerie at first, and he realizes he’s looking at different versions of you because you keep changing.
In one moment, you look like you did the last time he saw you. Then suddenly, your image becomes distorted. All he sees is that one of your eyes is swollen shut and blood drips down the side of your face, a gnarly gash split across your temple. Your teeth are bloody when you open your mouth to speak again, but there’s a roar building in his ears, and suddenly you’re gone and he can’t see you anymore–
Lucifer wakes up with a gasp. There’s searing pain behind his eyes and he groans while he holds his face in his hands. He’s trembling, and he feels cold and empty, and he wants to forget the haunting image of your broken face. Eventually the sleepy fog lifts from his mind, and he realizes someone is pounding on his bedroom door. His brothers shout his name outside his room, and he thinks he can hear someone crying.
It’s only then that he glances down at his bare chest and realizes that his pact mark with you is gone.
Lucifer was working on his third stack of documents to review and sign when there’s a quiet knock on his door. He glanced at the clock - 9:48pm. He thought he told his brothers he was busy this evening and he didn’t want to be disturbed.
He was prepared to string up whoever had the nerve to interrupt him, but he froze when he pulled the door open and found you instead. Your hand was raised like you were just about to knock again, and you dropped it hastily and grinned at him.
“Hi Luci,” you said in that cutesy sing-song voice of yours, “I brought you something.”
He realized that you were holding a large bowl out to him. He sniffed the air and couldn’t contain his surprise. “Shadow hog stew?”
You nodded enthusiastically. “Beel said it was your favourite. I made it earlier, but you never showed up for dinner. Your phone must be broken, by the way. I only tried calling and texting you like, a million times to tell you to come eat with us.”
Lucifer put his phone on do-not-disturb for a reason: you and your incessant nagging.
“I’m busy,” he said irritably, and he glared when you just smiled and shoved the bowl at him anyway.
“Well, you’re pretty clever. I’m sure you can figure out a way to eat a bit of food while you finish your work.” You headed back towards the stairs leading to the main floor. “There’s more in the kitchen if you want some!” You called to him over your shoulder, waving him goodnight before you disappeared from view.
Lucifer sat at his desk and stared at the bowl before he picked up the spoon. He decided that wasting something as decadent as shadow hog stew might not be proper form, and he tried a hesitant mouthful. And then another. And another after that.
He waited until he was sure you were in your room and fast asleep before taking the empty bowl to the kitchen for seconds.
The familiar scent of shadow hog stew catches Lucifer’s attention and he leaves his office to visit the kitchen. It’s a rich, hearty dish that was normally reserved for special occasions. He is very picky with how it’s prepared, and most of his brother’s don’t have the patience to make it properly. He hasn’t had it since you–well, he hasn’t had it in a long time.
“What’s the meaning of this?” he asks Satan, who is stirring the large pot of stew on the stove.
“I - I mean, we - thought you might like to try having something different tonight,” Satan says carefully, glancing at his older brother from the corner of his eye. “There’s some concern that you’re not eating enough.”
Lucifer opens his mouth to argue, because he is not some child that needs to be coddled, but he looks closer at the open recipe book on the counter. There are notes scribbled in the page margins where ingredients and measurements are crossed out and re-written. There’s also a pink sticky note on the side of the page, and he can still make out the familiar writing:
☆ one of Luci’s favs! ☆
It feels like there’s a heavy stone in his stomach, and Lucifer turns around and storms away from the kitchen before the feeling makes him nauseous.
“Where are you going? This is almost ready!” Satan calls to him.
“I’m not hungry,” Lucifer snarls, heading to his study and slamming the door behind him.
Lucifer startled when you dangled a paper bag in front of his face. “Can’t you see that I’m working?”
You sat in the chair across from him at his desk. “Yes, yes. All that important paperwork, I know. But I think it’s time to take a break, don’t you?”
He took the bag you offered him and pulled out the black…whatever the item is supposed to be. He held it up with his fingers. “Am I supposed to know what this is?”
You clapped your hands excitedly. “It’s a bath bomb!”
Lucifer gave you a deadpan stare. “It’s a what?”
“A baaaath boooomb,” you exaggerated the pronunciation slowly for his benefit. “It’s like fancy bubbles. You drop it into the water and it makes baths 500% more fun. You should try it.”
Lucifer sniffed at the black, strangely shaped item in his hand. “It smells like roses.”
You nodded. “Yep, and citrus, too. You’ll smell amazing afterwards, don’t you think?”
He glanced at it warily. “It has glitter in it. And this dark colour can’t be good for the porcelain tub. Don’t you think this will stain it? Who do you expect to clean up after this?”
You waved away his concerns with a grin. “Okay, so maybe glitter’s not your jam, and the cleanup might be a pain, but I promise it’s worth trying. I’ll even help you scrub the mess after.”
He put the bath product back into its paper bag and tossed it to you. You weren’t expecting it, and you just managed to catch it before it fell to the ground and shattered into a thousand pieces. “I’m not interested in childish nonsense. Give it to Asmo instead.”
You stood up from your chair with a resigned sigh. “Fine, you win this round. But for what it’s worth, I do think you’re working too much these days. You should take a break. A bit of relaxation won’t kill you.”
Lucifer knocks on Asmo’s door. When his brother answers, Lucifer pushes a basket into his hands. “These were in the bathroom. I assume you can find some use for them, since no one else will.”
Asmo opens the basket and smiles at the small collection of colourful bath bombs you purchased during your stay in the Devildom. “I forgot they bought these. Did you know that they gave Solomon money to buy them in the human world? You can’t even buy these on Akuzon.”
Lucifer can’t imagine why you’d go to that much trouble for something so trivial. “I didn’t know they liked baths enough to spend their hard-earned money on such ridiculous frivolities.”
Asmo glanced at his brother and hesitated before speaking. “Well, they didn’t like baths. They bought these for…someone else to use.” Asmo reached into the basket and picked up a black rose-shaped bath bomb and held it out to his brother. “I think you should keep this one.”
There was something knowing in Asmo’s gaze, and something inside him cracked. He shook his head and walked away before he said - or did - something stupid.
Lucifer’s still not sure how he ended up outside your old bedroom door. He felt numb and he wasn’t paying attention to where his feet were taking him. When you left the Devildom, he resisted the temptation to visit your old room. Since your death, he pretended the room didn’t exist.
The door hinges are creaky from lack of use, and he opens the door just enough so he can slip inside before closing it behind him. Judging by the dust in the air, he doesn’t think his brothers have visited your room since your passing either. The room has grown cold and desolate in your absence. He has the urge to board it up and lock it away so that no one else can ever use it.
Lucifer’s not sure what he expects to find when he examines your empty shelves and starts opening random drawers in your vanity. Maybe you left something behind, something he can keep to remember you by; it’ll remind him years from now that you’re the reason why the hole in his heart exists.
There’s a blue sticky note inside one of the drawers. He nearly glances over it, except he notices that the writing is still legible, not yet faded by time. He assumes it’s an old reminder to yourself about homework you had to do, or maybe a shopping list on a night when it was your turn to cook.
He wonders what kind of note you would write today if you could see him now. You were always leaving notes all over the house for him and his brothers to find. He used to hate the ones you left in his office that reminded him to take breaks and to drink something other than coffee.
He misses those notes now. He misses you.
He swallows around the lump in his throat, and the note shakes in his hands when he summons the courage to read it:
Are you rummaging through my old room because you miss me? I’ll be thinking about you from the human world. Love you! ♡
Something inside him finally breaks. He can’t stop himself when he finally confesses his feelings for you in a hushed whisper, heard by no one else except the memory of you that haunts him.
Mc would learn that they have multiple soulmates. The first one was revealed as a Dark blue string connecting their pinkie to their soulmate which only they could see. The next was Yellow messages sprawled across their arm. The next was an orange tattoo of a Snake settled on their upper right thigh. The next was a green notebook filled with small notes from the soulmate. The next was various pink spots covered Mc’s skin of where their soulmate was touched and injured. The next was random tastes appearing in MC’s mouth through out the day, their mouth was always stained an unnatural red colour after the taste. Finally whenever MC sleeps all they saw was a purple scenery before entering their soulmate’s dream. When joining into the exchange program, they could feel the Dark Red words ‘Welcome to the Devildom MC.’ being burned onto their back. Blue string, Yellow scribbles, Orange Tattoo, Green notebook, Pink marking, Red Taste, Purple Dream, Dark Red Words. Are these MC’s Soulmates?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
TLDR: Mc become soulmate of all brothers + Dateables
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
CHAPTERS
Prologue: Soulmate[s]
Chapter 1: One hell of a Soul
Chapter 2: Yellow Scribbles
Chapter 3: Orange Tattoo
Chapter 4: Gold[ie] Pact
Chapter 5: Purple Dream
Chapter 6: Angels
Chapter 7: Movie Marathon of TSL!
Chapter 8: Mammon.
A hearty clap on your back, a gentle hand over your shoulders, a lingering warmth on your heated cheeks.
Skinship was something he liked.
And before long, with your reciprocation, it developed into something more.
You will never forget his startled gasp when you first reached out and took his hand into your own.
For a demon of his size (and rank), he certainly was love-shy. How cute.
His trembling hands caressed the sides of your face (so cute!!).
“Y/N, may I?”
Instead of gracing him with a reply, you tiptoed forward and gave him a little peck on the lips. That shall be your reply to your cute, blushing prince.
“–! I’ll take that as a yes then.”
Barbatos
Love Language(s): Acts of Service (but uno reverse x2) and Quality Time
This talented demon liked to spend his time pampering helping others, and in particular, you.
He seemed to be anywhere and everywhere, just a step away or even ahead, when help was required.
And when he wasn’t at his lord’s side, he could be found by yours.
There was certainly nothing impossible for him.
He had assured you multiple times that it was of his own volition. That your happiness is his reward.
While you don’t necessarily dislike this service, you wanted to do something for your lover too. That’s right! Your lover!!
Suddenly motivated, you decided to have a go at cooking for him. He did make a passing remark about his interest in your hometown’s cuisine.
Probably because he wanted to make it for you, but anyway-
He came after receiving your dinner invitation, earlier than the arranged timing, just as you had expected.
Noticing his curiosity towards the bubbling pots on the stove, you happily list out all the dishes you have prepared. Prepared especially for him, you emphasised.
“Why, that’s— Let me help you plate them, at least.”
You shot down his idea immediately. That he, the guest-of-honour, should just sit pretty. He doesn’t complain, but seems… almost embarrassed.
“Alright, but… Let’s make it together next time, shall we?”
That small, fond smile adorning his face was your reward. You finally understood why he liked seeing your smile so much now.
SUMMARY: Lucifer eavesdrops on you and figures out why his brothers have been easier on him lately.
CHARACTER: Lucifer.
WARNINGS: None!!
COMMENTS: my acts of service love language just wants to help him out in subtle ways.
~~~~~
Lucifer is on cooking duty. This means he has to leave his brothers in the dining room to cause chaos as they trickle in for the morning. He keeps an ear out for them as he prepares omelets with various vegetables and meats (for nutrition, since quite a few of his brothers never seem to eat properly when they’re left to their own devices.)
“And Belphie, you have a test in your first period today...”
He perks up at the sound of your voice, a smile spreading across his lips before he can stamp it out. There isn’t anyone in the kitchen, he thinks, so maybe he doesn’t have to pretend like your presence doesn’t make him absolutely delighted.
“Levi, make sure you eat lunch while we aren’t here. And Beel, I’ve packed an extra breakfast for you. Mammon, good morning. Do you have your stuff put together?”
He feels his brow furrow as he listens to you, the careful consideration you give to his brothers making his heart feel warm. He takes pride in his work, handling off the household burdens and making sure his brothers get through school just fine, all while acting as Lord Diavolo’s right hand man. He noticed the slight changes in his brother's schedules and wondered what had made them remember things they usually forgot, only to find out now that it had been you.
“Mammon, watch your food!”
He steps out of the kitchen with the omelets he made only to see you, rubbing insistently at Mammon’s face with a napkin as he whines and tries to get away. He sees the pancakes he prepared earlier on his brother’s plate, and figures Mammon almost spilled syrup on himself. That would have been a pain to wash out of his clothes.
“Hello, Lucifer.” you smile, oblivious to his eavesdropping, “Do you need any help in the kitchen?”
“I can handle it.” he says, setting the omelets down in front of his brothers, “You just eat. I’ll be ready in time.”
“You always are.” you hum, that smile still on your face as you turn away from him.
He appreciates the way you don’t pry, letting him do most of his work that he takes so much pride in. Despite the fact that he feels the same about taking care of his brothers, he supposes he doesn’t mind if you help out a bit.
prompt: pampering lucifer, original prompt post located here
You adjusted the centerpiece one last time.
Lucifer's favorite dinner, placed for two, rest perfectly on the table. Much to the brother's help, cooking and setting up went much much quicker than on your own.
Thankfully, smoother too.
You perked up as Mammon entered, waving around what you'd hoped to be the record you'd asked for. "Is that it? Did you find it?"
"The Great Mammon always delivers", he smiled confidently. You brightened as he handed the record over. It was one Lucifer had mentioned wanting to borrow from Simeon for a while now.
"Ah you're the best!" You complmented with a smile before you began ushering him out. "Now go! Shoo, shoo!"
Mammon's laugh rang throughout the dining room at your antics. The brother's were really pulling through for you today after expressing just how important today meant to you.
You've noticed Lucifer, as always, being overloaded with work and looking after you and the boys. He never had anytime for himself. It made you a bit sad. Especially, since it cut into your alone time together as well.
So you took it upon yourself to clear his entire schedule for the afternoon and evening, of course after talking with Diavolo (who was more than pleased to grant your request) and aided the brother's in planning for their own afternoon out.
Leaving the HOL for just you and Lucifer to do as you pleased.
"Alright, alright I'm goin'" Mammon said.
"Please stay out of trouble. Don't do anything reckless, okay? And let the others know-"
The second born cut you off, resting his hands on your shoulders in the midist of your worry. You trusted the brothers, you really did. But sometimes.... "Relax! We'll be okay. Ya got nothin' to worry about."
Mammon gave you once last smile before giving you a small bonk on the head. "Text if ya need us."
And with that, he was gone.
With that, you scurried over to the record player you had set up near the table. Careful not to cause any scratching, you placed the record appropriately and adjusted the volume to a comfortable setting.
You checked your D.D.D. Lucifer should be home....now!
Never a moment late from when he assured he'd return, your boyfriend made his way in. Though you could easily tell he was exhausted, he still looked absolutely breath-taking to you. "You're home!"
Lucifer grunted in surprise at the force of your body colliding with his, your arms wrapping securely around his neck. He cleared his throat, a small pink beginning to dust his cheek.
"MC, you're awfully eccentric this afternoon."
You rolled your eyes and smiled. Ah Lucifer. always trying to put on a facade.
"Your brothers are out for the evening", you began. You leaned up, giving him a sweet kiss. His body immediately reacted. He couldn't help himself. Lucifer's arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as his usual 'responsible, Avatar of Pride' persona fizzled away. You broke the kiss with a hum. "The entire house is ours for the rest of the day."
Lucifed smiled apologetically, his hand coming to cup your cheek. "That's wonderful, my darling. But sadly I have-"
"Ah ah ah!" You cut him off quickly. "I've already talked to Diavolo as well. Your schedule is cleared, your deadlines are extended. You have nothing to worry about."
You took his hands in yours and began leading him to the table where you had prepared dinner. "All you need to do is relax and let me take care of you."
Lucifer nearly melted. You'd remembered his favorite dishes. It was then as well that the music you had been playing really hit him. "Is this...?"
You nodded proudly. "Yep! Simeon owed me a favor so I took advantage." You then began helping Lucifer remove his coat, ushering him to sit. You hung his coat on the back of his seat neatly before taking your own next to him.
"Forgive me but.." he hesitated. Lucifer looked at you in worry, an unusual sense of panic bubbling in his chest. "I don't remember any occasion that's supposed to be happening?"
"There's not", you assured. You took his gloved hand in yours, bringing it up to your lips to kiss. You knew the gesture drove Lucifer wild. It was so simple, yet so intimate. "I know you've been so overwhelmed lately with taking care of me and your brothers, helping Diavolo at every waking call, and just so much going on with the council."
You looked up, tilting your head slightly with a smile. "I just wanted to give you some time to just relax and let me take care of you for once."
Lucifer stared at you dumbfounded for a moment. If he wasn't already smitten, he sure was now. "If you'll allow me too, of course."
Your voice was soft, a slight bit of hesitation as you awaited his response. Relief filled you as Lucfier smiled.
"How could I refuse?"
The two of you ate dinner, talking back and forth about your days thus far. You were happy to see Lucifer much more laid back, the earlier tension you saw leaving him bit by bit.
After dinner, and much to your dismay, Lucifer helped you in quickly cleaning your dishes and putting away leftovers.
Before you knew it, the two of you had made yourselves comfortable in the common room, Lucifer's head resting comfortably on your lap.
His eyes remained closed as your fingers slowly ran through hair, occasionally curling a strand around your finger. "Your hair is so soft..."
Lucifer let out a content hum at your actions. One of his hands came to grip yours, resting on his chest and giving it a soft squeeze. After a moment, he turned his head slightly, opening his eyes to meet your gaze.
"You really didn't have to do all this", he said gently. You shook your head.
"I'm happy to do this", you assured. You leaned down, letting your lips ghost over his with a sweet smile. "especially for you, my love."
Lucifer wasted no time to push himself up, meeting your lips with passion. You let out a small hum in satisfaction, your hand in his hair instinctively tugging the strands your fingers were entangled in.
Your lips moved together for a moment, hearts beating in both your chests and cheeks rosy. You hated to pull away, needing to fill your lungs with air.
His kisses were addicting, always so full of love and gentleness.
It left you wanting more.
You left a few more pecks on his lips and over his face, emitting a chuckle of delight from the demon before settling back.
Lucifer looked up at you from your lap, a twinkle in his eyes. "You truly are a piece of heaven."
"I love you too, Lucifer."
~~~~~~
tag: @vintage-bumblebee
ahhh how'd I do? im not a big lucifer stan, but i tried my best 😭😭
