#luciferdcxreader

[yesihaveaobsession]

tomellis!lucifer (dc) x female!fallenangelreader

Summary: Lucifer discovers the fallen angel he once loved (you) is in Los Angeles, reigniting a love he thought was lost forever.

A/N- I really enjoyed how this turned out. So I really hope this reaches the right audience and hope y'all enjoy reading it just as much as I loved writing it!

Lucifer Morningstar had been in love once.

Truly, disastrously, in love.

Back in the Silver City, before rebellion and rings of fire and millennia of resentment, there had been you.

A fallen angel now, but once—you had been everything Heaven pretended not to want. Brilliant. Gentle. Kind in a way that made the stars seem warmer when you smiled. And bloody hell—the sort of beauty that didn’t need wings to announce itself.

Lucifer, though, had been reduced to a lovesick idiot around you.

He’d trip over his words. He’d show up early just to pretend he wasn’t waiting. You’d steal glances across marble halls, share smiles during celestial councils, fingers brushing accidentally on purpose. He’d make jokes just to hear you laugh. And you’d pretend not to notice how his gaze softened whenever you spoke.

And you liked him too. That wasn’t a secret.

Everyone else knew it. Even Michael, one of Lucifer’s brothers, had smirked a few times about it. Which meant it was definitely obvious.

Then Lucifer fell.

One moment he was screaming defiance, the next he was burning through the sky, and Heaven slammed shut behind him like a locked door.

He never saw you again.

You never saw him again.

Los Angeles. Present day.

Lucifer was lounging at the piano in his penthouse, a glass resting on top of the keys, fingers pressing random notes, trying—but failing—to drown out memories that never seemed to stay buried.

Maze had been gone all afternoon, which was suspicious in itself.

The elevator dinged.

Mazikeen stepped out, boots heavy, leather creaking, and a wicked little smirk already playing on her lips. She twirled a knife lazily between her fingers, eyes bright with mischief.

Lucifer didn’t look up from the piano but said, “Unless you’ve brought me good news, bad news, or a particularly violent distraction, I’m not in the mood.”

Maze leaned against the bar. “I found the Juliet to your Romeo.”

Lucifer froze.

Slowly, he turned, eyebrows arching. “I don’t recall asking you to quote Shakespeare, darling. Also, Romeo was an idiot.”

Maze snorted, still flipping the knife around. “Yeah? Still died for love.”

That got his attention.

“What exactly are you implying?” he asked carefully, centuries of practiced indifference cracking just a little.

Maze grinned wider. “They remember you.”

Lucifer was about to pick up his glass, but it slipped from his hands and shattered. He stared down at the shards, then back at Maze. “That’s not funny.”

“I’m not joking,” Maze said, flipping the knife and catching it by the handle with ease. “They fell too. Long after you. Different reasons. Different messes. But still here.”

His breath caught, something painfully unfamiliar tightening in his chest.

“No,” he said, voice low. “They wouldn’t—they can’t—”

“They live in Los Angeles,” Maze continued, entirely too pleased with herself. “You’re welcome.”

Lucifer laughed, sharp and disbelieving. “Right. And next you’ll tell me dear ol’ Dad is hosting brunch.”

Maze rolled her eyes. “They heard your name. Lucifer Morningstar. Didn’t believe it was you. Said they didn’t want to get their hopes up in case the universe was playing some sick joke.”

He swallowed.

That sounded like you.

“They said,” Maze added more softly, “that if it really was you… they didn’t know if they could survive seeing you again.”

Silence filled the penthouse.

Lucifer turned back to the piano, staring down at the keys, running a hand through his hair, jaw tight. Memories slammed into him—every one-night stand meant to erase your face, every reckless indulgence, every lie he’d told himself. Even Eve. Sweet, eager Eve, who had adored him for who he used to be.

He’d said Eve was his first love.

He’d lied.

“You know,” he said quietly, “I went to Hell thinking I’d lost everything. Turns out, I’ve just been avoiding the one thing that ever mattered.”

Maze watched him carefully. “You gonna run this time?”

He straightened, eyes burning with something dangerously close to hope.

“No,” Lucifer said. “If you’re here… if you’re really here…”

A slow, wicked smile curved his lips—less playboy, more fallen angel.

“Then I intend to remind you exactly why Heaven was never the same without us.”

Maze’s lips curled into a smirk. “Good. Because you’re stronger than before.”

Lucifer glanced at the elevator, heart pounding for real, for the first time in eons.

“So am I,” he murmured.

And somewhere in Los Angeles, a fallen angel felt the universe shift— and wondered if hope was finally worth the risk.

[yesihaveaobsession]

tom ellis ! lucifer morningstar (dc) x female reader "clingy/ affectionate boyfriend (in the morning)" headcanons~

A/N- I'm so sorry!! I am in the process of moving houses because the house I'm currently in was a temp house to see if I like the area and I do! So I have a Lucifer/ Tom request that I am working on I promise! I didn't forget about you, I've just been posting drafts in the meantime.. and feel free to drop some Alastor ideas for my Al peeps, just to get me rolling on something. Or if you aren't comfortable commenting feel free to send me a little message! I'll take one or two into account. I am really drawing a blank for Al.. Thank you y'all

(Thought this headcanon idea was cute so hope y'all like it as much as me :))

~Morning Cuddles: Lucifer would pull you close before you even tried to get up, draping himself over you like a weighted blanket. He'd bury his face in your neck and breathe in your scent, muttering little compliments about how beautiful you really are—even half-asleep. He doesn’t care.

~Kisses Galore: He'd be uncharacteristically soft, giving you forehead kisses, kisses along your jaw, shoulder, and even your hand if it’s near him (resting in between you or on your pillow mostly). He'd tease you awake with lazy pecks until you give in with a smile and return the same affection.

~Playful Resistance to the Day: If you had to get up early (say, for work), Lucifer would groan dramatically and cling tighter. “But why must the world steal you from me so soon? Surely humanity can wait a few hours while I keep you all to myself.”

~`Warm Praise: He'd admire you endlessly in the morning glow; he could look at you for hours—not to make it sound weird, of course. He'd tell you how stunning you look, bedhead and all—not that you weren’t already beautiful to him. He'd love the intimacy of those quiet hours when it’s just the two of you: no Lux noise, no chaos, and definitely no Maze or Amenadiel barging in from the elevator.

~Possessive Softness: Morning is when he lets his guard down the most. He’s less the suave Devil King of Lux and more your devilishly in-love partner who doesn’t want to share you with the world.

~The Wake-Up: Lucifer is not a fan of waking up alone. If he stirs and you're not in bed, expect a very dramatic “Darling?!” echoing through the penthouse, followed by him dragging himself out of bed in silk boxer shorts, hair still a mess, just to find you. If you are still in bed, he’ll immediately pull you back into his chest and nuzzle your neck with a satisfied hum, murmuring, “Much better.”

~His Voice: That deep, morning-raspy British accent? Oh, he’d use it shamelessly, whispering every pet name in the book into your skin—“my beautiful one,” “my goddess.” You’d feel every word vibrate against your jaw or collarbone as he kisses you there. He knows the effect it has on you and uses it to every advantage.

~Touchy-Feely: Lucifer’s love language is definitely physical touch. Even if you love personal space, he’s taking it. He’s very physical in the mornings—his hand resting on your waist, your thigh, even tangled in your hair. Anywhere he can touch you, he will. He’s like a dog that needs to stay in contact while awake; he’s not always trying to be seductive (though he definitely can be), sometimes he just wants that grounding closeness.~

~His Reluctance to Let You Go: He hates waking up alone, and he hates you leaving the bed in general. If you try to move toward the edge of the bed, he tightens his grip like a spoiled cat clutching its favorite pillow.

~Pillow Talk: Before you actually get out of bed, Lucifer softens—his voice gentler, his touch calmer. He’ll ask about your day ahead, fuss over whether you’re working too hard, and toss in a compliment every other sentence. He loves those little, quiet conversations where he gets to know your world beyond the penthouse and Lux.

~The Goodbye Ritual (Very Painful): When you finally manage to escape his hold—after he’s tried every tactic to convince you to call in sick and stay in bed all day—Lucifer insists on a proper farewell. He'll kiss you several times—forehead, nose, lips—as if he’s trying to memorize you, and remind you, “Come straight back to me after, won’t you? The bed’s dreadfully empty without you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you all for the love and support! I appreciate you all so, so much ❤️ If you’re new here, hey! Welcome! Feel free to check out my Tom Ellis Lucifer Morningstar Main Masterlist, “Heartstrings and Hellfire,” as well as my Fallen Angel Mini Masterlist, “First Time for Everything.”

For all my Hazbin Hotel peeps who have caught some of my Alastor content and want to see more, that’s also pinned to the top of my page, with the Mega Masterlist titled “Alastor’s Consciousness.”

If you enjoy one, the other, or even both like me, feel free to give me a follow (if you want! :)) I try to post as much as I can!

Much love, @yesihaveaobsession 💖

[yesihaveaobsession]

tomellis!lucifermorningstar (dc) x femalereader

Summary: On a rare snowy night in LA, Lucifer’s charm and teasing draw the reader closer in his penthouse, creating electric tension she can’t resist—even as she tries to stay away.

A/N- The Naughty List has officially begun, Hope y'all like this one, to start off my Lucifer side! Yes this is inspired and based on the song "Baby It's Cold Outside."

(version i like:)

Snow was falling outside, fogging the tall glass windows of Lucifer's penthouse. Delicate, strange… like the universe was having a laugh at Los Angeles. Snow was rare here, and of course it chose tonight — when you were alone with him.

You curled up on his leather couch, a warm drink in hand. Early December, soft Christmas music playing. You’d been talking for hours… laughing, teasing, sharing stories he rarely told anyone.

He couldn’t take his eyes off you. Stunning enough to make the stars jealous. Heaven-sent. Breathtaking. And intoxicatingly dangerous.

You glanced at the time, then the window, where flakes drifted lazily.

“Oh wow,” you breathed. “It’s… actually sticking.”

Lucifer followed your gaze, lips curling into that dangerous smile.

“And here I was thinking I was the one making you shiver.”

You rolled your eyes, trying not to smile. He noticed — of course he did. He thrived on it.

You stood, placing your empty glass on the coffee table and straightening your clothes.

“I should get going. Roads are probably still clear enough and—”

“Darling,” he interrupted, lounging back like sin in silk. “It’s snowing in Los Angeles. That’s practically a sign. Either way, it means you should stay.”

“I really can’t,” you said, reaching for your coat.

“This evening has been—”

“—everything I hoped you’d drop in for,” he finished with a grin, rising to his feet.

You tried not to watch the way his shirt clung to him. You failed.

“It’s been very nice,” you said softly, looking away.

Lucifer stepped closer, invading your space. Eyes glinting, voice low.

“I’ll hold your hands — they’re freezing.”

Before you could protest, he took your hands in his, rubbing warmth into your fingers. Electricity shot through you.

“Lucifer,” you warned.

His brows lifted. “Yes, that is indeed my name. And you look breathtaking when you say it.”

You tugged your hands back, chest fluttering, and stepped away… but didn’t go far.

“So really, I’d better scurry.”

Lucifer tsked. “Beautiful, please don’t hurry.”

He brushed past you, fingers grazing your arm. Then, at the bar, he poured a little more into your glass.

“Sit. Relax. Half a drink more.”

You sighed and sank back onto the couch. “Fine. Half. Nothing more.”

His eyes sparkled. “I’ll put on some proper records while I pour, shall I?”

You laughed. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet irresistibly charming,” he said, switching the music to something slower, richer… sensual. Very Lucifer.

When he returned with the glass, you muttered, “The neighbors might think—”

“Baby,” he leaned over the couch, dangerously close, “it’s hellish out there.”

The word hit you like a spark. Breath caught. Heart stuttering. You tried to hide it — failed.

“Don’t call me that,” you murmured.

“Why not? You look divine when I do.”

Trying to steady yourself, you sipped the drink, looking down.

“Lucifer… what’s in this?”

“Nothing but alcohol and poor judgment,” he said, smiling. “And no cabs can be had out there. Roads are frozen. Tires spinning. LA is chaos.”

He sat beside you again. Much. Closer.

You swallowed, noticing just how near he was.

“Lucifer…”

“Yes, darling?”

“I wish I knew how to make you behave.”

His smirk sharpened, flashing teeth. “You don’t want me well-behaved.”

“Lucifer—”

“Mind if I move in closer?” He brushed his knee against yours.

Your inhale betrayed you. Pulse racing. Every nerve alert.

“You’re not subtle,” you whispered.

“Delighted you noticed.” His eyes locked onto yours, warm, intense.

“But truly… what’s the sense of hurting my pride? Especially when you want to stay just as much as I want you to.”

“I’m not sleeping with you,” you said, firm but quiet.

He softened, patient. “I know,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Staying doesn’t mean that. I’m not rushing your innocence, darling… though I do enjoy making you blush.”

You shoved his shoulder lightly, cheeks flaming.

“And I really can’t stay,” you muttered, mostly to yourself. He knew you weren’t leaving — and didn’t want you to.

Lucifer leaned back, hands open helplessly.

“Baby, don’t hold out on me.”

You stood, half laughing, half melting, and he watched with pride and desire, that dangerous, knowing smile curling his lips once more.

[yesihaveaobsession]

tomellis!lucifermorningstar (dc) x female!fallenangel reader

Summary: Lucifer’s fallen angel (you) returns to his penthouse with a puppy, your hesitant speech showing your healing, and despite his protests—and Maze’s teasing—he can’t resist helping, revealing just how soft he’s become.

A/N- Another fallen angel fic for y'all.. He loves his fallen angel.. <33

Lucifer was at his piano in his luxurious penthouse when he heard the elevator ding. The notes that had been at the tips of his fingertips trailed off into a smooth stop, one of his brows arching as he looked toward the elevator doors—and there you were, his fallen angel, stepping in.

"Ah, my favorite celestial houseguest returns."

But the sight that greeted him pulled him off the bench entirely.

There you stood, radiant even in your soft confusion at the world and how it worked. Here, in his penthouse, with a puppy in your arms, a small, floppy-eared creature that squirmed against your chest and licked the delicate curve of your chin.

Lucifer blinked once. Then twice.

“Darling,” he began, his voice sharp with disbelief, “tell me that is not what I think it is.” He rose from the piano bench.

You looked down at the puppy, then back up at him with those wide, impossibly pure eyes that always managed to make even the Devil himself pause, making it nearly impossible for him to say no to you.

"Found," you murmured softly, your voice still hesitant. Every word was chosen carefully, like you were relearning how to speak. (You were, and slowly getting better thanks to Lucifer.)

Lucifer sighed, running a hand down his face. “Found. Marvelous. Found where, exactly?”

You shifted, the puppy pawing at your sleeve. "Outside," you said, your gaze flickering toward the long, big windows. Then, after a moment’s thought, you added in your halting rhythm, “Heard… cry. Sad.”

Lucifer froze mid-step. His exasperation faltered, replaced by something dangerously close to fondness. Damn it.

Before he could even think about responding, the elevator dinged again. This time it was Maze, who sauntered in and raised an eyebrow at the scene before her.

“Oh, this is rich,” she said with a grin. “What’d she bring home this time, Lucifer? Another stray celestial or just the mutt?”

Lucifer turned his head slowly and glared at her. “Mazikeen,” he warned. “Not helping.”

Maze’s smirk only grew wider as she leaned against the bar, clearly enjoying herself far too much. “Didn’t plan to. You’re about to cave anyway.”

“I most certainly am not!” Lucifer declared, more to himself, his voice echoing through the penthouse. “This, this thing will not be living here. I have standards. Lux is not a kennel.”

You just blinked at him, not knowing how undone you may have made Lucifer. You were still holding the puppy, but closer. The creature gave a pitiful whimper, nuzzling under your chin.

Lucifer opened his mouth to continue and then promptly closed it.

Maze laughed under her breath. “Yup. He’s done for.”

Lucifer straightened and slipped his hands into the pockets of his dress pants, trying desperately to find composure.

“I am not—”

The puppy yawned.

You looked up at him, eyes shining softly. “Stay?” you asked, voice fragile but hopeful, a tiny crack of vulnerability breaking through. “He… safe.”

That was it. The Devil himself was brought to his knees by one fallen angel and a tiny, trembling ball of fur.

Lucifer sighed again, dramatically this time, before striding over and plucking a towel from the bar counter. “Fine,” he muttered, holding it out. “But only until we find him a proper home.”

Maze, still watching and enjoying herself far too much, snorted. “You mean this home. Don’t pretend.”

Lucifer shot her a look that could’ve melted steel. “Oh, do shut up, Maze.”

You smiled—a small, fragile thing, but it lit the whole room. “Thank… you,” you whispered.

Lucifer hesitated, the corners of his mouth softening despite himself. “Yes, well,” he said, his tone quieter now, “just… try not to bring home anything with claws, wings, or divine attachments next time, hmm?”

Lucifer looked between the two of you, his beautiful, celestial chaos of a fallen angel and her ridiculous little creature, and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered, though his smirk betrayed him. “I’ve gone soft.”

[yesihaveaobsession]

SURPRISE!

I’ll be posting all of the holiday fics for both Lucifer and Alastor under this mini masterlist for this holiday season, and updating it whenever I can. I’m gonna try my best to post all the way up until the new year since it is the holiday season! (Try and have it pinned to my other masterlists that are pinned to my account!!)

I’ll give y’all an update when I’m close to starting—or when I officially begin. 🎄✨

Stay tuneeddd...

[yesihaveaobsession]

tom ellis lucifer morningstar (dc) x female!fallenangel (& maze)

Summary: Maze convinces the reader, a shy fallen angel, to draw on a sleeping Lucifer’s face. When he wakes up, she nervously blames Maze — but instead of anger, Lucifer laughs it off, and the three share a rare, lighthearted moment.

A/N- Still working on that Tom Ellis fic that I wanted to try out and see how y'all like it and like the format of it. So maybe sometime next week I'll put it out and see how well it does. :)

Maybe I'll put a little teaser out some time this week and see if y'all like the idea or if I should just scrap it!!

The penthouse was cloaked in dim light, the hum of traffic far below muted by luxury. Jazz played softly in the background — a record that had long since been forgotten. Lucifer liked to listen to jazz when he was in that mood, usually when he was alone in the penthouse.

Well, he wasn’t alone anymore. You had gotten used to the sound.

Lucifer was asleep on the velvet couch, still in his suit. His shirt was wide open — five buttons either undone or halfway there, as if he’d been falling asleep mid-motion. His dress shoes were kicked off. His chest rose and fell in the slow rhythm of deep rest. One arm hung dramatically over the backrest.

You — his fallen angel, though he’d never admit it out loud — sat heavy on the floor, your legs tucked beneath you. You still had a faint glow, barely there but enough that even in the dark, even now… fallen and healing, you looked like something carved from starlight. So celestial. So unreal.

Lucifer had told you that every bloody day.

You tilted your head at him, brows drawn in curiosity. “He… sleeps.”

Maze, who was also there, looked up from her spot beside you. At first, she had been iffy about you. Pretty. Quiet. And you fell on Lucifer’s car? That was weird. But over time, she got to know you — realized you were quiet, yes, but also had a way of sassing Lucifer with just a few words. She loved that.

Now, her boots were crossed at the ankles and a marker twirled between her fingers, like it was one of her daggers.

“He doesn’t just sleep — he performs sleep,” she smirked, watching him.

You looked at her, confused. “Perform?”

Maze only grinned wider. “Trust me.” She leaned forward, eyeing Lucifer’s face. “That smug mug is practically begging for upgrades.”

Your gaze followed the marker in her hand. “Upgrade?”

“Devil horns,” Maze whispered like it was sacred. “And a mustache. Maybe a goatee. We’ll see where the spirit takes us.”

You stiffened. “No…”

Maze raised a brow. “Oh come on, feathers. He can take it. He needs to be taken down a peg. Plus, it’ll be funny.”

You hesitated. Just a moment, but it felt longer. Your wings were long gone, but grace still lived in your bones. Maze leaned in, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Trust me. This’ll be the best thing you do all week.”

A beat. Then another.

Then… you nodded. Small. But real. “Okay.”

Maze beamed. “Atta girl.”

She handed you the marker. Carefully, nervously, you leaned over Lucifer’s peaceful — still annoyingly beautiful — sleeping face. With a trembling hand, you drew two tiny horns, arched and careful, at the top of his forehead. You bit your lip to suppress a giggle. It felt… wrong.

But also kind of good.

Maze snorted. “Nice touch.”

Then she took the marker and added to your work — a thick, curly mustache, a little pointed goatee, and — because she couldn’t help herself — dramatic villain brows.

You let out a quiet, airy laugh.

Maze froze. “That… was a giggle.”

She grinned wide. “You do have a sense of humor.”

You covered your mouth, eyes shining.

“Okay, now hold still,” Maze said, lifting her phone. Click. “This is art.”

But just as the camera flash faded… Lucifer stirred.

His brows crinkled. His fingers brushed his upper lip where he felt a faint tingle. He blinked his eyes open — slowly, suspiciously.

Maze was already grinning. You, on the other hand, froze. Panic rose in your chest.

His voice was groggy from sleep, but still unmistakably him. “Why do I feel like someone used my face as a sketchpad?”

You swallowed. Then said—

“Maze… told… sorry.”

You completely threw her under the bus.

Lucifer sat up slowly, hand smudged with black ink. His eyes met yours.

Wide. Guilty. And still so gorgeous.

And then…

“Well,” he muttered, lips twitching, “I do look rather dashing with facial hair.” (Although, to be fair, he already had a little scruff.)

Maze laughed from her chest. “Told you. He likes it.”

Lucifer rubbed at the marker. “Oh, I wouldn’t say like. But I do appreciate the dedication to detail. Very horns-forward. Very me.”

You peeked up at him. “Not mad?”

He looked at you. Really looked. And something in him softened.

“No, love,” he said, voice low and smooth. “Not mad.”

Then, raising a brow at Maze: “But you — you’re on very thin, very stylish ice.”

Maze raised her beer bottle. “Worth it.”

“You laughed,” he said again, this time looking at you. “You really laughed.”

You nodded, a little smile curling. “Maze… helped.”

He smiled — not smug, not flirtatious. Just soft. Warm.

“I think I’m starting to like her,” he murmured. “Just a little.”

Maze groaned. “Ugh. Gross. Don’t get all feelings on me.”

Lucifer winked. “Too late.”

And just like that — with a marker, a picture, and a giggle — the fallen angel, the demon, and the devil sat in the glow of something that felt suspiciously like family.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

P.S. If you enjoyed this piece and want to read more of my work, feel free to check out my masterlist pinned to my page! For Lucifer, there's a mini masterlist featuring fics with x fallen angel reader and x female reader. :) Thanks so much for reading! – @yesihaveaobsession <3

[yesihaveaobsession]

tom ellis! lucifermorningstar (dc) x female!reader

Summary: On a rainy night, an old flame—Lucifer Morningstar—shows up at your door, effortlessly reminding you why you never got over him.

A/N- Let y'all know if you want a part 2 because i really wanna haha. Enjoy!!! Also I'm trying to come up with some Alastor ideas 😭🙏

The rain came down in sheets that night, tapping against your apartment windows like impatient fingers. You’d just curled up on the sofa with a glass of wine and a book you were eager to read. Then came the knock. Slow. Purposeful. Almost smug in its rhythm. Unmistakable.

Your heart sank. You got up from the couch and made your way to the door. You knew that knock.

When you opened it, there he was. Tall, immaculately dressed, that devilish smirk curling at his lips. A smile that could probably make even Aphrodite kneel—LA, the world, and once, you. His eyes were as sharp as you remembered, gleaming like dark jewels that caught every secret you tried to hide. He knew you.

Lucifer bloody Morningstar.

Every part of you screamed. A thousand alarms rang in your head, telling you—no, screaming—not now. Not after all this time. Not after it had taken you years just to move on from this dangerous, maddening man. Not after he’d told you he wasn’t ready to settle down, while you had always been. No.

And yet, here he was.

“Lucifer—” you began, already moving to close the door, but his hand caught it effortlessly. That smile deepened, paired with the tilt of his head that had once made your knees weak.

“Darling,” he purred, voice smooth as the whiskey you’d once shared in his penthouse. “Now that’s hardly a welcome. Especially when we were inseparable once upon a time, were we not?”

Your chest tightened. Damn him. Damn that voice. Damn that face. He looked good. Too good.

You exhaled sharply and closed your eyes, as if maybe he’d vanish if you wished hard enough. “What are you doing here?” you asked, exhaustion lacing your tone.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he pushed past you like he owned the place, the scent of rain and expensive cologne trailing behind him as he made himself at home. He glanced around casually, inspecting a stage he once dominated. (Which he certainly had.)

You shut the door with a huff, arms crossed tight over your chest. “You’ve got five minutes, Lucifer. Five bloody minutes to explain why the hell you’re here.”

He turned, eyes locking on yours in that way that always unraveled you. Slowly. Deliberately. And that smile returned—dangerous and alluring all at once.

“Five minutes?” he mused, voice curling like smoke. “Darling, I only need one… to remind you why you never quite got over me.”

Your heart stuttered. You hated him for knowing it. Still, you stood your ground, arms crossed, glaring, trying to ignore how maddeningly good he looked in the candlelight from the one you’d lit. His suit was perfectly tailored, hair slicked back just enough to look effortless. Raindrops still clung to his jacket shoulders.

He was dangerous. Always had been. That’s why you avoided him like the plague. Back then, you’d go to work, then Lux, then up to the penthouse. Now? You went to work and straight home.

“Well,” you finally bit out, trying to regain control, “shouldn’t you be at Lux charming some poor woman into following you up to your penthouse?”

Lucifer paused mid-step, then turned sharply on his heel with his signature flair, hands clasped behind his back like a performer about to bow. His head tilted, a sly, closed-lipped smile curving his mouth.

“Ah,” he drawled, accent wrapping the word like velvet. “That’s how we started, wasn’t it?”

Air caught in your throat. He was good with comebacks. You had nothing sharp enough to counter the truth in his words, and he knew it—you saw it in the glint of his eyes, the satisfaction of knowing he had you exactly where he wanted.

Still, with a shaky exhale, you managed, “That was a long time ago, Lucifer.”

He stepped closer. Close enough that the heat of him made your pulse race. His cologne filled your lungs; his tall frame loomed over you. His voice dropped, smooth and intimate, like a whisper meant only for you.

“Tell me, darling…” His gaze flicked over your face, searching, lingering, devouring. “…has there been anyone to replace me?”

Silence stretched too long. You hated yourself for it—for not answering immediately, for knowing the truth was already written in your eyes.

Bloody hell, he always did know how to corner you.

[yesihaveaobsession]

tomellis!lucifermoringstar (dc) x female!reader

Summary: A gorgeous, clever fallen angel (you)finally tells Lucifer you're done with his games — reminding him you sleeps on your side, and he sleeps with everyone.

A/N - So, I’ve loved Megan Moroney ever since 2023, but this past year I really dove into her music. I’m single and ready to mingle — never been in a relationship (I’m just committed to men I can’t have 😭✌️). Her songs are just so good.

I’ve written Alastor imagines to country songs before, so I figured it was Lucifer’s turn. As soon as I heard “Sleep On My Side,” I immediately thought of Luci. Hopefully this reaches the right audience!

I’ve got my Halloween fics done and sitting in my drafts — I might post one on Halloween and the other right before, so stay tuned for that!

I added some of the lyrics in this one too, so fingers crossed it finds the right people. Enjoy! :))

SONG:

It had been months since she’d seen him—months since you swore you were done with the world’s most infuriating, intoxicating, sinfully charming devil.

And yet here he was.

In your favorite coffee shop. Did he have the audacity?

Lucifer Bloody Morningstar. Tailored suit, smirk like sin itself. Leaning on the counter, flirting with the poor barista and acting like he owned the place.

Then he saw you, sitting at one of the tables with your iced coffee—and of course, he made his way over to you.

“You’re still an iced coffee woman, I see,” he mused, eyes flicking to your cup. “Even in October. Positively rebellious.”

You didn’t even look up from your drink. To look the man in the eye ever again, actually. “And you still like yours hot and black, I assume? Figures.”

He smiled with that maddening, knee-buckling smile. “Ah, opposites attract, do they not?”

You gave a quiet laugh—sharp and soft all at once—and finally dared to look up at him, sipping your coffee. “I read somewhere online that opposites attract, actually. But… maybe we were a little too different for that.”

“Different, perhaps. But dull? Never,” Lucifer said, his expression faltering for just a split second.

“Different enough,” you said, taking another sip. “You choose the city, I choose peace. You like noise and neon—I like two-lane Tennessee.”

That made Lucifer smile again. He tilted his head, stepping closer to the table, his voice dropping a little. “Darling, you can’t honestly tell me you’re happier without a little danger. A little… me.” Typical Lucifer.

Your laugh came easy, but there was steel beneath it. “Lucifer, you’re not danger. You’re a bad idea on ice.”

He grinned, placing one hand on the table and slipping the other into his pocket, his feet crossing. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You shouldn’t,” you said simply, setting your cup down. “Because I’m a glass of red fine wine. And I’ve learned you can’t mix the two and expect it to taste right.”

Lucifer—well, he ended up sitting across from you at your table, leg crossed over the other. Because of course he did. Old habits were definitely dying hard. He talked like he always did—all wit and charm and a teasing glint in his eyes.

You found yourself almost falling for it again. Almost.

You caught that same glint that made you fall for him in the first place—the one that made promises he never intended to keep.

You swirled your coffee, smiling as you shook your head playfully before looking back at him. “I like my bed made,” you said suddenly, fingers tracing the rim of your cup. “And the smell of my own sheets. Bet you haven’t slept in yours in weeks.”

He let out a chuckle and leaned forward, his arms resting on the table in front of him, eyes never leaving yours. “I’ve been… occupied. You know how busy running Lux can be.”

“Mm,” you hummed. “Funny, because I heard from a friend of a friend you got with both of them. Which, when I heard that, I can’t say I was shocked.”

Lucifer blinked, then that signature smirk returned. “Oh, come now, you know how rumors are in this city.”

“Oh, I do,” you said, standing as you smoothed your coat. “But then their friends said the same thing, so… maybe we’re just different. And that’s okay.”

Lucifer rose too, his tone softening. “Darling—”

“Don’t ‘darling’ me, Lucifer.” Your gaze lifted to meet his—kind, steady, final. “That doesn’t make you Mr. Wrong. But you’re a long way from Mr. Right.”

Inside—deep down, in whatever Lucifer had left inside him—he knew you were right. Deep, deep down.

He laughed quietly, almost wistfully. “You always did know how to make a man feel damned.”

You smiled, and for a brief moment, there it was—the warmth again. “You were damned long before me.”

You turned to leave, but he called after you, his voice lower, more human than you’d ever heard it.

“So that’s it then? No more of us?”

You paused, hand on the door, and looked back with that slow, devastating smile that always undid him.

“It’s good that we’re different,” you said softly. “But when the day’s done, I sleep on my side…”

Your eyes glinted with something he couldn’t quite name—peace, maybe—before you added,

“…and you sleep with everyone.”

“Touché.” Lucifer smirked and sipped his coffee.

And as the bell above the coffee shop door chimed behind you, he found himself staring at the empty doorway far longer than he should have, nursing a cup gone cold.

“Bloody hell,” he murmured, lips curling into a rueful smile.

“She really was the fine wine.”