#Biker Lucifer

[darcydarlingdabbles]

Until the Devil's Last Dance~ 1 & 2

Here's a little preview of something I've been working on~ Follow on Ao3

Hazbin Hotel ₊⁺⋆ RadioApple ⁺⋆ 50s Omegaverse AU

🎶 Chapter 1: The Way You Look Tonight🎶

🎙️ “Ah, such a timeless classic, don’t you think, my darlings? There’s something irresistible about the way one looks when they’re completely unaware of their effect on others. Tonight, we’ll witness a little magic unfold, where eyes meet, and the world tilts on its axis. Now, sit back and let the music take you to the night where everything changed...” 🎙️

🎶Someday, when I’m awfully low.

When the world is cold. I will feel a glow.

Just thinking of you. And the way you look tonight. 🎶

The scent of cigarette smoke and gasoline clung to Lucifer’s leather jacket as he tried to blend into the shadows at the corner of The Red Horizion’s bar.

Red velvet ropes and crystal chandeliers were a far cry from the bloody trenches that still haunted his dreams. But he was used to taking odd jobs…and fancy-ass supper clubs paid in steak.

Which would be worth all every sideways glance he was getting in the meantime.

Lucifer's well-worn clothes, inked hands, and scuffed boots stood out like oil stains on silk among the tailored suits and cocktail dresses. He tried to comb some order into his blonde hair, forever tousled by the wind that rolled through it whenever he got on his bike.

The alpha might not be tall and imposing, but he was strong for his size. He could hold his own.

And the stares and murmurs from the elegant crowd prickled at his nerves.

With a sigh, Lucifer rolled up his sleeve, revealing the intricate black tattoos snaking from elbow to fingertip. That usually kept the hostile looks at bay—for fear that their disapproving stares lead to meeting the eyes of the disreputable drifter in their midst.

As a plate of medium-rare steak appeared, the alpha’s stomach growled.

“Your place always this hopping?" Lucifer observed, cutting into his meal.

Peter, the host and seemingly reluctant fulfillment of the chef’s work arrangement with the head chef, shrugged. "Friday nights at the classiest place in town, you know how it is, sir."

Lucifer didn't, not really.

He’d been out of touch with the classy parts of the world since the war—and being dishonorably discharged meant he wasn’t likely to find his way back in to any pearly gates any time soon. And Peter seemed to know it.

But the alpha grunted in agreement anyway, focusing on his food as the booths and the dance floor filled.

Lucifer found himself considering a hasty retreat. He was about to ask the preppy little beta host if he could wrap it up to go, when the entrance doors swung open.

And a vision in red entered the room.

🎶Tearin' my fear apart

Touches my foolish heart🎶

Lucifer couldn't tear his eyes away. all thoughts of leaving evaporating like mist in the morning sun.

The newcomer cut a striking figure, lithe and graceful with an air of refined elegance. Bright hazel eyes sparkled behind round glasses that framed by a face dancing on the edge between masculine and feminine.

A practiced smile played on his lips as he approached the coat check.

Lucifer's nostrils flared instinctively, but from this distance, he couldn't discern if the stranger was a beta or an alpha.

As the man removed his overcoat, Lucifer's eyes widened. Shamelessly taking in every slender curve and line.

Beneath was an ensemble of deep crimson button down and jet black vest, tailored to perfection and utterly eye-catching. It was a bold choice, especially if...

Could this man be an omega?

The blonde alpha dismissed the idea with a snort, before taking up his brandy and having another gulp.

Omegas favored pastels and softness, and males were more than rare.

Probably just some dandy alpha trying to make a statement. Not that it mattered to him—he'd gladly tumble into bed with anyone if they looked like that.

The alpha shook his head, transfixed.

Lost in his appreciation, Lucifer forgot himself. He knew he was staring, his gaze lingering far too long to be polite.

He silently prayed he wouldn't get caught ogling the beautiful man like some kind of creep. But luck was not on his side tonight.

As if feeling the weight of Lucifer's stare, the stranger turned. Hazel eyes, bright behind round glasses, locked with Lucifer's own.

🎵 Yes, you're lovely, with your smile so warm

And your cheeks so soft🎵

Lucifer's heart stuttered in his chest. Embarrassment heated his cheeks at being caught red-handed. He braced himself for a scowl, a glare, any sign of the man's displeasure with his uncouth leering.

Instead, to his shock, the stranger's practiced smile melted into something warm and inviting. Brownish [ink lips curled at the corners, transforming that polite expression into a grin just this side of wicked.

Lucifer's mouth went dry. wondering if those lips tasted as sweet as they looked.

A melody soared in Lucifer's mind, drowning out the chatter of the supper club. Leaving nothing behind but this resplendent stranger.

🎶There is nothing for me but to love you.

And the way you look tonight.🎶

The spell was shattered as abruptly as it had begun.

A smarmy-looking alpha stepped between them, effectively blocking Lucifer's view. Irritation flared, hot and sharp, in the biker’s gut. He barely resisted the urge to grab the interloper by the collar and yank him out of the way.

But then Lucifer heard it—that name, even spoken in the alpha's oily voice.

"Alastor, there you are!" The man boomed, grating on every nerve the blonde.

Alastor.

Lucifer rolled the name around on his tongue, savoring the way it tasted in his mouth. It suited the red-clad man perfectly—unusual, memorable, with a hint of some old world charm.

Just like Alastor himself.

Lucifer’s annoyance melted away, replaced by a warmth that spread through his chest.

The greasy-haired man placed a possessive hand on the small of Alastor's back.

It was subtle, blink and Lucifer would have missed the way Alastor's nose wrinkled ever so slightly at the touch.

"I have a reservation," the alpha announced loudly to the host. "For Vox. The best table in the house, of course."

The alpha was clearly showing off, staking his claim on Alastor in front of everyone.

Lucifer rolled his golden eyes. Subtle as a brick to the face, that one. Might as well try to mount his date in front of everyone—though from the look on Alastor’s face, he’d sooner kill Vox.

As the leaned back from the host’s stand, Alastor's face smoothed into a pleasant mask.

The transformation was flawless, like unpleasant expressions never marred his perfectly bronze face.

Lucifer smirked. It seemed Alastor was less than impressed by his date's bravado.

The pair made to move towards their table, and Lucifer couldn't help but smirk as he observed their awkward dance.

"After you," Alastor said, his voice melodious despite the hint of sarcasm Lucifer detected.

Vox missed the nuance entirely, striding forward with a self-satisfied grin. Apparently, his alpha ego apparently too fragile to let Alastor walk in front. Alastor followed docilely enough.

Maybe Lucifer was projecting. As soon as the alpha's back was turned, Alastor's eyes rolled skyward in exasperation, rewarding the watching alpha with a little chuckle.

🎶And that laugh that wrinkles your nose

It touches my foolish heart🎵

Lucifer tried to drop his eyes as Alastor glided past, his lithe form was drawing every gaze in the room. This Vox guy really shoulda walked behind him, cause damn that ass on him—

—the drifter's nostrils flared, suddenly overwhelmed by a scent so intoxicating it made his head spin.

Sweet, alluring, and unmistakably unclaimed omega.

With a hint of something deliciously bitter. Like black coffee.

"Oh dear," Lucifer muttered to himself as his mouth watered.

Hazel eyes met gold once more as Alastor walked by.

One perfect eyebrow arched, a silent challenge, and Lucifer felt his cheeks grow warm. Caught staring like some lecherous alpha - how embarrassing.

He ducked his head, abashed. But then Alastor laughed

A musical sound that sent shivers down the alpha’s spine, and all was forgiven. Perhaps Lucifer’s interest wasn't entirely unwelcome after all.

Though it wasn’t hard to be more interesting than the omegas proper and pompous date.

🎶With each word your tenderness grows

And that laugh wrinkles your nose.🎶

Vox's grating voice cut through the moment. "Alastor! What's the holdup?"

Alastor's smile never faltered, but Lucifer caught a flicker of annoyance in those captivating eyes.

"Coming, dear," he called back sweetly.

As Alastor sauntered away, Lucifer released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"Well," he murmured to himself, "this night just got a whole lot more interesting."

From his spot at the bar, Lucifer had a clear view of Vox and Alastor's table. He tried not to stare but found his gaze drawn back to the couple again and again.

It was like watching a train wreck in slow motion.

Hell, he needed to get outta here before he got himself into trouble.

Instead, The blonde alpha focused in to try to hear them across the room.

"What can I get for you folks?" The waiter's voice drifted over.

"I'll have a whiskey rye, please," Alastor replied, his tone smooth as silk.

Vox's hand shot up, cutting off the waiter. "No, no. He'll have a strawberry daiquiri. That's more suitable for an omega, isn't it, doll?"

Lucifer watched as Alastor's eyebrows shot up, a flash of indignation crossing his features. It was gone in an instant, replaced by a practiced smile, but Lucifer had caught it.

"Of course, darling," Alastor acquiesced, his voice syrupy sweet. "Whatever you think is best."

“Unbelievable” Lucifer snorted into his drink.

As the waiter scurried away, Lucifer found himself settling deeper into his barstool. He should leave, he knew that. But the tension radiating from that booth was palpable, and he couldn't resist seeing how this trainwreck of a date would unfold.

🎵Lovely, never, never change

Keep that breathless charm

Won't you please arrange it?🎶

His eyes drifted back to Alastor, noting the tight set of the omega's shoulders beneath his crimson blouse. Even from this distance, Lucifer could practically feel the waves of irritation rolling off him.

The blonde alpha shook his head.

Vox was either oblivious or uncaring, completely blind to the omega's growing irritation.

This date was doomed before it even began.

Maybe, just maybe, Lucifer would get his chance to chat with Alastor after all.

He settled back against the bar, content to watch and wait for the date to go down like the Titanic—he'd be ready to swoop in with the lifeboat.

One way or another, he was determined to get to know the captivating omega in red.

🎶Cause I love you

Just the way you look tonight🎵

2 That Old Black Magic

🎶That old black magic has me in its spell 

that old black magic that you weave so well🎵

Alastor's fingers tightened imperceptibly around the stem of his glass as Vox launched into yet another self-aggrandizing anecdote. 

The supper club's jazz quartet provided a soothing counterpoint to the alpha's grating voice, their mellow tones a balm to Alastor's fraying nerves.

"...and that's when I told the network executives, 'Gentlemen, the future of entertainment is television!'" Vox boomed, slapping the table for emphasis.

Alastor's painted-on smile never wavered.

 "How fascinating," he purred, the words tasting like syrup on his tongue—and this omega hated sweets.

If only the fool would shut up long enough for Alastor to excuse himself to the powder room.

He took a delicate sip of the ludicrously colored drink he’d been given. Vox’s good sense to pick The Red Horizon club did not extend to his selection of cocktail, and his personality left much to be desired. 

He didn’t have taste. Just flash with no substance. 

But…The omega agency had certainly matched Alastor with worse prospects.

"Of course, someone in your position couldn't possibly understand the intricacies of my work," Vox continued, oblivious to Alastor's disinterest. 

The omega felt a record scratching inside his brain and his temper flair.

He knew the intricacies of entertaining, and he knew them well. Not that anyone knew him for his work in radio.

The last time he attempted to mention it to Vox, he got offered a job— as the man’s ‘cute little secretary.’

Over his dead body.

"Oh, I'm sure that's true," Alastor murmured to appease the alpha, and keep him talking while the omega rested his chin on his hand. His gaze drifted across the dimly lit room, settling on the now familiar figure at the bar like a reprieve.

The blonde alpha was staring again, golden eyes fixed on Alastor with an intensity that sent an invisible shiver down his spine.

Alastor was no stranger to hungry alpha gazes, but this...this was different. There was a pull there, a black magic he couldn't quite name.

Absently, the omega traced the rim of his glass with one elegant finger. 

The crystal sang softly, a faint counterpoint to his date’s endless droning.

"Are you even listening to me?" Vox snapped, jolting Alastor from his reverie.

"But of course, darling," Alastor lied smoothly. "Please, do go on. I'm simply enthralled by your tales of corporate conquest."

As Vox launched into another self-important story, Alastor's attention drifted once more to the mysterious alpha in the leather jacket. Their eyes met across the crowded room, and Alastor felt a rush of heat that had nothing to do with the little bit of liquor.

🎶Those icy fingers up and down my spine,

The same old witchcraft when your eyes meet mine.🎵

The blonde alpha's golden eyes widened, as if he'd heard the soft chime of Alastor's glass from across the crowded room. 

Ridiculous, of course—the band was in full swing, couples twirling across the dance floor. And yet…those eyes held Alastor captive, warm and earnest in a way that made his breath catch.

A genuine smile tugged at Alastor's lips, unbidden. For a moment, the rest of the world faded away.

🎵That old black magic that you weave so well 🎶

"Ahem." Vox's pointed cough shattered the spell. "I said, don't you agree?"

Alastor blinked, realizing he'd been caught, again. He poured on the charm, leaning in with practiced interest. "Oh absolutely, my dear. Your insight is simply unparalleled."

Vox preened, but his satisfaction was short-lived. He twisted in his seat, following Alastor's previous line of sight. 

The rough-looking alpha quickly averted his gaze, suddenly fascinated by his empty glass.

“"I see.” Turning back, Vox's lips curled in distaste. “Perhaps if you'd chosen a more demure outfit, you wouldn't be drawing such tawdry attention."

“Oh? Whatever could you mean by that Vox?” Alastor's smile didn't waver, though something cold settled in his stomach as he simpered. "Why, I was ever so mindful to dress nicely for our evening out," he purred, voice dripping with honeyed charm. "After all, you were kind enough to share your…opinions on my wardrobe choices with the social worker after our first two dates."

Inwardly, Alastor seethed. 

Such was the lot of an unmated omega in this alpha-dominated world—constantly scrutinized, constantly judged. He smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from his perfectly tailored vest, thinking bitterly of the hoops he'd jumped through to meet Vox's exacting standards.

Before the dark-haired alpha could respond, a waiter rematerialized at their table. "Good evening, gentlemen. Are you ready to order?"

"Ah, yes," Vox said, puffing up importantly. "I'll have the filet mignon, rare, with the truffle reduction." He barely glanced at Alastor before continuing, "And for the omega, perhaps the poached salmon salad? I’m sure you want to be mindful of your figure, after all."

Alastor's smile became brittle, though his voice remained light. "How thoughtful of you, darling." His stomach growled in protest, mourning the loss of a proper meal. 

These arranged dates were half about the food, after all—a way to indulge beyond his usual means.

As the waiter departed, Alastor sipped his drink, thinking longingly of the hearty gumbo he could have made for a fraction of the price of this overpriced lettuce. 

But needs must be met, he supposed. At least the music was decent.

🎵I should stay away, but what can I do?🎵

Alastor's gaze drifted to the new frilly cocktail Vox had ordered for him, a saccharine concoction topped with a plump maraschino cherry. 

A treat, the alpha had said—Alastor would rather a dry red wine. Since he wasn’t allowed his whiskey.

With deliberate grace, he plucked the fruit from his glass, bringing it to his lips. As he did so, his eyes wandered across the room, seeking out the blonde alpha at the bar.

Their eyes locked just as Alastor bit down, the cherry's sweetness popping across his tongue. 

He held the alpha's gleaming gaze…just restraining himself from tying the stem in a knot with his tongue. That would be laying it on a bit thick, wouldn’t it?

🎵Darling, down and down I go, 

round and round I go 🎶

"I must say, your network's latest programming schedule is simply fascinating," Alastor sighed, seamlessly returning his attention to Vox. "Do tell me more about your fall lineup."

Vox preened, oblivious to Alastor's wandering attention. 

"Well, since you asked..." He launched into a detailed monologue about ratings and demographics.

As the waiter set down their meals, Vox paused his vainglorious speech. "I'm glad you're not eating too heavily tonight, dear. I'm quite looking forward to showing you off on the dance floor later." Vox leered.

Alastor suppressed a shudder, imagining Vox's grabby hands pawing at him under the guise of dancing.

 "Oh? How lovely," he lied smoothly. "But surely you were about to tell me about that thrilling new game show concept?"

Vox's eyes lit up, and Alastor settled in for another interminable story, his mind already calculating how long he could delay the inevitable groping on the dance floor.

♫ ♫ ♫

As the last morsel of food disappeared from their plates, Alastor dabbed at his lips with his napkin, his mind racing for an excuse to postpone the dreaded dance. 

A flash of inspiration struck, and he turned to Vox with a carefully crafted smile.

"If you'll excuse me for a moment, darling," Alastor cooed, rising gracefully from his seat. "I simply must freshen up"

Vox waved him off. "Don't be too long, sweetheart. I'm eager to…show off my moves."

Oh, Alastor could not begin to explain how he was not Vox’s sweetheart.

Alastor's smile tightened imperceptibly as he glided away from the table, his steps measured and unhurried despite his desire to put distance between himself and his boorish date. 

As he passed the hostess stand, a thought occurred to him.

Pausing, he leaned in conspiratorially to the Peter, the club host. "Pardon me, but I couldn't help but notice the gentleman at the bar. Might you know who he is?"

He might expect the smiling blonde beta’s face to light up with gossip-fueled glee, but instead, it soured. "Oh, him? That's Lucifer. He's a friend of our cook.” Peter leaned close. “I wouldn’t let yourself be tempted—you can judge that apple by its skin.” 

The omega kept from shooting a scowl at the boldness of the beta—this was not the place or the time. 

Though, from here, he could see what Peter meant. The skin of the blonde alpha’s forearms held more ink than the Sunday paper.  

"Lucifer," Alastor murmured, savoring the name on his tongue. A sudden warmth bloomed in his chest, spreading through his veins like liquid fire. 

He'd never felt anything quite like it before.

🎵 I hear your name and I’m aflame.

Aflame with such a burning desire. 🎵

Alastor barely had time to settle back into the plush booth before Vox's meaty hand clamped around his wrist. The alpha's eyes glinted with a possessive hunger that made Alastor's skin crawl.

"Come on, dollface. Time to show you off," Vox growled, yanking the omega to his feet.

Alastor's smile strained as he stumbled after the alpha. "My, aren't we eager?" he quipped, trying to maintain his composure.

Vox's grip tightened as he jerked Alastor close. "You bet I am. Been waiting all night for this."

As the band struck up a lively foxtrot, Alastor found himself desperately trying to find his footing. 

He was an excellent dancer. Being a tall omega meant he often lead others of his designation and female betas while the men and alphas were off to war. 

Alastor could finesse any partner.

But Vox's movements were erratic and forceful, completely at odds with the music's rhythm. Each time Alastor attempted to fall into step, Vox would drag him in another direction.

The oaf wouldn't know rhythm if it bit him in his oversized head. 

The brunette longed to take the lead, to show this buffoon how it was really done. But societal expectations chained him to this farce of a dance.

"Isn't this great?" Vox bellowed, oblivious to Alastor's discomfort. "You're lucky to have such a talented dance partner."

Alastor's smile twisted into something closer to a sneer. "Oh yes," he replied, voice dripping with sarcasm, "I'm positively overwhelmed by your... enthusiasm."

As Vox continued to manhandle him around the floor, Alastor's contempt grew. 

His eyes darted around the room, seeking an escape—or at least a distraction. They landed on the bar, where a pair of golden eyes met his own. 

 🎵The same old witchcraft when your eyes meet mine🎶

Vox's hand slid lower down his back, yanking Alastor flush against him. 

The omega's nose wrinkled at the alpha's overpowering cologne as Vox's hips ground against him in a vulgar parody of what should be done on a dance floor.

"Now this is more like it," Vox purred, his breath hot on Alastor's ear. "You know, as this is our third date,”

“So it is,” the omega said, hiding the wariness in his tone with a lilting tease.

“So.” Vox blundered over the beat of the music. “ I've got certain…expectations."

Alastor stiffened, his lips holding no hint of a smile. He leaned back, trying to put some distance between them. 

"My dear fellow, I believe there's been a misunderstanding. The matchmaker was quite clear about your preferences for an unmated—"

"Untouched," Vox interrupted, his grin predatory. "And why do you think that is, doll?”

Alastor's eyes widened, his carefully crafted facade cracking.

"I…I beg your pardon?" He stammered, genuinely caught off guard for the first time in years. His mind raced, searching for a way to extricate himself from this increasingly uncomfortable situation without causing a scene. “I’ve no idea what you could possibly be implying.”

“Oh, don’t play like that, a male omega can’t play coy.” Vox huffed, forgetting the pretense of a dance as his pawing hands held Alastor. “I want to be the one to plant the first flag, if you catch my drift."

Alastor pushed against Vox's chest, but barely escaped an inch. "I'm afraid I'm not interested in that sort of…arrangement, sir. Perhaps we should call it a night?"

Vox's grip tightened, his expression darkening. "Not so fast, sweetheart. Do you have any idea how much I spent on dinner? On this whole evening?" He leaned in, alcohol-laced breath hot against Alastor's cheek. "You owe me something for my trouble."

A flicker of genuine anger flashed in Alastor's eyes, quickly masked behind his practiced smile. 

The audacity of this utter buffoon.

"Now, Vox," Alastor said, voice dripping with false sweetness, "I don't recall agreeing to any form of transaction. Surely a gentleman such as yourself—"

His words were cut short as Vox's hand suddenly grabbed his ass. 

Alastor froze, eyes wide with shock and indignation. His mind reeled, searching for a way to salvage the situation without compromising his carefully cultivated image.

Though he longed to show yet another entitled alpha what he was capable of. 

But he hesitated, acutely aware of the eyes upon them, of the delicate social balance he had to maintain. 

For a moment, Alastor found himself truly at a loss, his usual wit and charm failing him in the face of such brazen disrespect.

Just as Alastor's composure threatened to crack, a ringing voice cut through the tension.

 "Pardon me, gentlemen. Might I cut in?"

Before either could respond, a blonde figure slid between them, deftly maneuvering Alastor away from Vox's grasp and into his own. Alastor found himself whisked onto the dance floor, guided by sure hands and twinkling golden eyes.

🎶Cause you’re the lover I have waited for.

The mate that fate had me created for. 🎵

"Lucifer," the alpha introduced himself with a roguish wink. "I hope you don't mind the interruption."

The omega’s relief was palpable, though he masked it with a coy smile. "Not at all," Alastor' sighed gratefully. "Though I’m afraid I must protest when we are caught by my proper date—as a matter of principle."

“Whatever ya need, doll.” Lucifer grinned, falling easily into step with his new partner.

“My name is Alastor.” the taller man  corrected, caution moderating his tone, knowing his history of putting boundaries before alphas and how they reacted.

Lucifer just smiled, and said. “Whatever ya need, Alastor.”

And just like that, this pint-sized alpha earned his first genuine smile of the night as he stole the omega away.

🎵Under that old black magic called love🎵

🎙️ “Care to dance, darlings? Up next, ‘Sway’ by Dean Martin will leave you breathless.” 🎙️

Follow on Ao3

(where I can actually format nicely and each chapter has a radio man intro and outro~)

[kiestrokes]

Look Biker Hwa doesn't even have to be a whole fic. Build the world just for me to live in it. You can ask @minisugakoobies! I'm mentally homeless and constantly running away from my problems. Let me squat in your brain.

Luce I hate that you’re finding out like this, but you’re already in my brain. Let me just turn on the fairy lights ✨

@chans-room -knocks on the drift room- lets go bestie, you too!

Let me just grab you three a blanket, and tuck y'all in for story time -pulls up wip-

Brothers Biker Bestie!Hwa (tentatively named Halazia): “Okay, let's go.” Seonghwa stands, letting you slide down his firm thighs until your feet hit the floor of the motorcycle trailer.

“Where?” Sol shakes her head, in attempt to clear the smoke from the fires that Seonghwa had started there.

“To the apartment, I’m not going to fuck you in the trailer. Not yet anyway,” he adds with a smirk.

[ilargeicontradictmiself]

My sister and i are doing bingo cards for the guest stars on the mentalist, in reference to where else we've seen them , like "audition tape: same character different murder" , "crossover", "third guy to the right on criminal minds EpXSeasonY" that short of thing. Ill post when we have them ready

[lifewithaview]

Lucifer (2016-2019) Favourite Son

S1E6

Lucifer bails on Chloe when he becomes bored with her investigation into a ruthless biker gang murder. However, when he discovers something was stolen during the crime that was very personal to him, he demands that Chloe let him rejoin the case.

[mejomonster]

Hiram Lodge is Hot

[creamecream]

Satan/Lucifer: King of Hell. The Devil. Husband of Lilith and Eve.

Bubble Bath belongs to @abyssnighthawk and I

[saintobio]

LOVE AND DEEPSPACE MASTERLIST.

ONESHOTS/MINI-SERIES.

♱ sylus.

the sin & the sinner 001 // the conquered & the conqueror 002 // the loved & the lost 003 18+ (angst, smut, boss/assistant, non!mc reader)

know thy enemy // teaser 18+ (angst, smut, period piece)

heartbeat 18+ (fluff, pwp, baby daddy!sylus)

lucifer 18+ (dark romance, smut, angels/demons au)

misty invasion: lost oasis 18+ (smut, pwp)

♱ xavier.

know thy enemy 18+ (angst, smut, historical au)

misty invasion: no restraint 18+ (smut, pwp)

♱ rafayel.

titanic 18+ (angst, smut, titanic au)

♱ zayne.

tbd

♱ caleb.

tbd

DRABBLES/HEADCANONS.

♱ sylus.

the biker’s book club 18+ (fluff, smut, biker!sylus x backpack!reader au)

i, spy (mild angst, jealousy)

♱ xavier.

the perfect boyfriend 18+ (fluff, smut, established relationship)

starlight (fluff, reverse hurt/comfort, jealous bf!xavier)

♱ rafayel.

the art of loving 18+ (fluff, smut, artist x muse)

♱ all.

walking in on him watching adult content 18+ (suggestive smut)

all rights reserved © 2024 saintobio. please do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works in any platform.

[vintagehellfire]

Danse Macabre | E.M x Reader

summary: Your best friend invites you to a concert that you're less than keen on but you get much more devil worship than you bargained for.

warnings: porn without plot, plot? What plot?, choking, nipple play, blood play, bruising, oral (m receiving), sacrilege, bdsm, dom sub dynamics, just really stupid horny honestly. Eyefucking, teasing, edging???? Spit kink, mask kink, devil worship. This is just pure filth honestly, piv, unprotected sex (don’t do this with strangers ya’ll pls I’m begging) mdni 18+

word count: 8.6k

Thank you to @the-unforgivenn for beta reading this pure filth for me and for correcting my atrocious keystroke mistakes. I love you so much babe.

part two

How you got dragged to some sort of musical satanic ritual by your best friend Lilly was far beyond you. The heavy instrumentals contrasted too harshly with the light and theatrical vocals. If looks could kill, Lilly would be dead. This wasn’t your scene, it never would be, it’s what you told yourself. Sipping your gin, arms crossed, you scrunch your face, the bartender having been too busy staring at your chest while he poured your drink, resulting in a rather disgusting concoction. As if the night couldn’t get any worse. 

One of the lighter intro songs came to an end before the pyrotechnics roared to life next to you, one of the guitarists emerged from behind the waft of smoke. It was then that your breath caught in your throat, the way that he played had you hypnotised, placing you in a trance so deep that you couldn’t tear your eyes from him even if you wanted to, veins protruding. Your eyes trailed over his body, tight jeans fitting to his body and a uniform dress shirt adorning his torso, long sleeves and turtleneck underneath, hiding any soft skin. As you would be met with a face, you were surprised to find that you were met with a helmet of sorts, breathing tubes and other such accessories adorning it, as well as sticking out the top. His eyes burned red like embers behind the wide goggles, a darkness swallowing the man behind the mask and drawing you in. Curiosity got the better of you, you watched closely  when he stomped to the beat of the songs. he fans collectively let out a wave of screams, throwing flowers on stage. You rolled your eyes so hard they probably should have rolled out of your head. Were you attracted to the masked musician? In some capacity sure, but wholly? No. They just… they knew how to play well and those hands… you could admit those hands were something. You shook your head to rid yourself of impure thoughts, it wasn’t like you liked the music anyway. 

Your face was stone cold and your arms were crossed over your chest unhappily, cleavage pushed up, and the leather of your jacket creaking. That was the thing about you, you’d rather die than remove your prized biker jacket. It was your battle armour, much like the guitarists get up seemed to be the band’s uniform. To them, it protected their identity, and it protected you – you wouldn’t be caught off guard, you wouldn’t be vulnerable, you couldn’t. Your icy stare pierced through the smoke, through the flames, as you focused your gaze on the guitarist in front of you. His white guitar distinguished  him from everyone else just as your expression did you –perfectly sour.

The crowd behind you chanted along to the songs, screaming about Lucifer and the congregation and whatever other shit you chose to ignore in favour of your best friend. Lilly was one of them, jumping up and down, chanting every word of the hymns the lead singer belted out to the tune of the strong bass line and the chugging of guitars. As much as you wanted her to have fun, you rolled your eyes, this wasn’t your scene. Every song that started out heavy led to a disappointment with the vocals or the rock opera and so you just opted to be the designated party pooper and give your best glare towards the lead guitarist who seemed all too interested in your corner of the stage. He wailed on his guitar harder than you’d seen anyone wail on one before, a flash of worry briefly crossing your mind but you quickly pushed it down. 

The masked man played through his songs flawlessly, fingers moving expertly across the fretboard, mind and body completely in tandem; however your pout, your knit eyebrows, and crossed arms caught his eye, he’d stare back at you through his tinted goggles, smiling softly to himself at how adorable you looked when you were so grumpy. He could tell this wasn’t your scene and so during the slow and long intro to a song he walked over to the very front, standing just a few feet above you.  He tilted his head to the side, his mask listing as he stared, playing the intro as his eyes never left yours. 

The small movement caught your attention, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you felt like the glowing embers behind the goggles were burning into your very soul, dissecting every little secret. He slowly points to himself before he gets his queue to jump into his next riffs, stomping away as he pushed through the heavy chords that thundered through the concert hall. You dared not admit it to yourself, but something inside you snapped, a warmth starting to spread between your legs. No, no you couldn’t possibly be attracted to this, right? But just as that thought entered your mind, it shot out of your head and straight to your heart when you saw the man before you strut over to his bandmate. The two bent over backwards together, the taller of the two supporting the back of the man with the white guitar. A cute moment, or so you thought, but as soon as the shorter was up for his solo, the taller wrapped an arm around him and pawed at his cock, tugging him into his muscled body, catching the one you had your eye on off guard. He rocked his hips into the other and rested his masked head on the shorter shoulder, fake panting. He did not falter however, and that had your brain reeling. 

With a small smack on the ass, the taller let him go, strutting away as the crowd erupted in ear shattering screeches, and if what had just transpired wasn’t one of the hottest things you’d seen, you would have absolutely rolled your eyes, but instead it had you shifting in your place, all too keenly aware of the small flare of heat that lapped at you and the proximity of the other bodies surrounding you. You suddenly felt small, trapped; and you wanted nothing more than to run out and dunk your head under some ice cold water. What was wrong with you? Your eyes darted from side to side, hoping your best friend Lilly wouldn’t notice. 

What went on next was just about to make anyone lose their minds, the lead guitarist started to throw guitar picks into the crowd, plucking one last one from his guitar and marching over to directly in front of you. The song they played next was clearly well known but it was only vaguely familiar to you, it was one you would listen to ironically while doing the dishes, one that you didn’t care much for, but was catchy nonetheless. What you didn’t realise was just how suggestive the lyrics were – and so when the man with the white guitar stood in front of you, spreading his legs to put himself in a more comfortable playing stance you thought nothing about it but his next motions had your panties soaking themselves in your slick. A long and crooked finger pointed to himself quickly, then he went back to wailing on his precious guitar just before giving himself a window of about a second to stop, his ring and middle finger very rapidly turned upwards, flicking rapidly as if motioning fingering you, his goggles deadlocked on your eyes. You could tell he was watching you for a reaction, and how you knew you wouldn’t be able to tell. Christ, maybe you should have listened to Lilly when she was telling you this band was horny. Truthfully, you had shrugged it off, what, some singer in a pope mask acting all horny? That didn’t exactly get your rocks off, but the moment you laid eyes on the masked men playing their instruments, all rational thought flew out the window. 

Little did you know that the guitarist did have his eyes set on you, all queues already learned, his body moving on auto pilot, his performance was deliberately exaggerated just for you, his motions tailored to get you hot and bothered. He knew he played the best role, and as the show went on, with the lack of water, and the horrid head, he knew his veins were pronouncing themselves even more, fingers sliding around, fingering the fretboard with an expert speed. Every nook, cranny, and metal notch memorised by the calluses on the pads of his fingers, like an old lover he’d always know how to please. He would pride himself on it, on his accuracy, and he was thankful, oh so thankful, that his death metal band had allowed him the dexterity to pull something such as this off. 

Your eyes couldn’t tear themselves away from his figure, stalking his every move like a predator with their prey, A game of cat and mouse you both played with each other from the stage and the crowd. At this point, all shame was thrown out the window and you were openly eye fucking him, blood boiling in your veins and mouth starting to run a little dry. 

The final nail in the coffin was during their heaviest song during the show, a calm moment before the storm, before the stadium exploded in a downpour of black and white paper confetti. Your eyes fixated on the man before you as the song slows to a steady chug, breathy whispers sung into the microphones. It made your head spin as you were trying to compose yourself, breath hitching as the object of your lustful affection met your gaze. His black inky goggles bored you as he brought a shaky hand up, his other hand chugging the low E of his guitar. You were transfixed by the man, unable to peel your eyes from him as he slowly and seductively licked his hand, tongue expertly flicking between his fingers, his shaky breaths becoming ragged and exaggerated. Pressing his hand to his chest, he threw his head back in a moan, sliding his elegant fingers down the front of his uniform until it was level with his guitar, and exactly in time with his strumming, he fisted his hand and with a teasing motion he tugged at the air. Your mouth ran completely dry as you registered that he was feigning masturbation in front of thousands of people. He had you caught in a trance, hypnotised by his agonising motions, his eyes seemingly staring into your very soul, picking apart every last bit of you - he saw the scars inside and your desires all rolled into one. As his actions picked up, one hand still busy on his guitar, you let out a choked breath, transfixed by the man, ghoul, whatever he was, before you. He commanded all your attention, causing your mouth to run completely dry but it couldn’t have prepared you for his “release”--  letting go the moment the confetti cannon exploded. Your jaw slacked, a strangled moan flying from your mouth as you clenched your thighs together, mouth slightly agape. 

The guitarist knew he had you in a chokehold at that very moment, smirking from underneath his coverings. Flawlessly he jumped back into the song and turned away from you, the game of cat and mouse had become too much, too real. It had only taken him an hour and a half to break you down, but once he did he felt a satisfaction he couldn’t explain, and of course he would try to hide it as he continued to strut across the stage as if he owned it. The reality was that he didn’t want to give away just the way this little game had affected him as well, an undeniable strain in his lower half. If his bandmates had noticed, they had clearly made it their mission to torture him, the rhythm guitarist getting on his knees in front of him during a solo, fucking into his own guitar as he pressed his head to the lead guitarists thigh. It wasn’t until the lead placed a boot on his shoulder to push away from him that the one on his knees relented, the crowd exploding in a rain of screams, and yet all you heard was the rush of blood in your ears. You resigned, the game had been won.

As you tried to catch your breath, you looked over to Lilly, thanking Satan that she hadn’t noticed your turmoil. The rest of the show had you holding your breath, knowing that the masked musician had made it his mission to play games with you.  the show ended, you were relieved, you might have a moment yet to go home and get yourself off, forgetting the whole of the events that transpired. 

“Come on, let’s get out of here and to the merch table before it gets too crowded!” Lilly cheered, sticking her handout for you to take, but as soon as she looked over your face her eyes drained of excitement. “Oh, are you okay? You look a little pale,” she noted, tilting her head to the side. 

“Y-yeah, I,” You cleared your throat, “I’m fine, just feeling a little warm. I think I might head home but you go grab some merch. I’ll text you,” you lied cooly. You didn’t want her to know the profound effect that the lead guitarist had on you. With a nod she gave your shoulder a squeeze and darted off. 

You could finally breathe, the suffocation that gripped at your throat just moments earlier had slightly dissipated. As dirty as your thoughts were at the moment, it was in your best interest to get moving, and so, as if on autopilot, you let your feet carry you as far from the stage as possible. You slipped past the crowd, weaving in and around groups of friends, teenagers reeling about the show, displeased parents. You wanted to beeline it out of there before anyone noticed you but unfortunately your plan was short lived as you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist and tug you behind a closed door. 

Your brain ran at a mile a minute, trying to figure out whether it was cause for alarm, but as your back collided with the wall behind you, you were met with the masked ghoul from the stage pressing his knee between your legs, pinning you in place. All colour drained from your face as your breathing laboured. There wasn’t any fear in your body, not any longer, and if there had been any,it had been replaced with undeniable arousal, heat being sent straight to your core. It took all your willpower not to grind into his thigh.

“Hey, sweetheart.” The husky voice purred, a small accent peaking through. He smelled intoxicating, like amber and cigarettes, a tinge of iron poking through in the softest of undertones. It drove you crazy, mind spinning, dizzy with want. He cocks his head to the side, his nautical mask tilting, the black goggles seemingly bottomless, swallowing his eyes. The musician’s expression is completely unreadable and if you knew any better you’d say it was like a predator who had caught his prey. Your mistake was thinking the little game you both played was over, yet now it seems like it had just begun. The man leans into you, invading your space completely, his covered mouth coming up beside your ear. “Oh you thought our little game was over, didn’t you?” He pulls back, allowing your caged body some space. “Don’t think I didn’t see you, little one.” His sweet voice purrs, setting you over the edge, hips finally pushing into his leg as your head tilts back, smacking softly into the wall.

“Fuck…” The syllable leaves your mouth as a groan before you can do anything about it. Surely you were dreaming this, but when you opened your eyes, you were met with the same mask, the same expression that stared at you from the stage. 

“If that’s what you want, sweetheart, I’ll have to bring you to the green room. We’ll paint it red in sin .” You swore you could hear him wink from behind his coverings but you didn’t care, satan, you didn’t care as long as you could have him. You’d worship him in uniform, all sweat slicked and bloody if you had to. In this moment you had a one track mind and you’d be damned if you didn’t act on your desires… but maybe having these desires meant that you were already damned. “What, not as bold anymore? Devil got your tongue?” He mused. 

“Are you going to run your mouth or are you going to fuck me?” You spit out at him, a feigned venom behind your words, but they were too lust drenched to be taken harshly. In an instant his body was against yours, thigh pressing into your cunt, slowly rubbing back and forth.

“Earn it.” He growled out, face burying itself into the crook of your neck to pepper both kisses and love bites across your jugular. Your body caught fire, desperate to be taken by the mysterious man then and there. You hadn’t seen his face and you were mildly worried that seeing it would ruin the illusion. Would you even find him attractive under all his coverings? You didn’t have time to think about it before his hands came to the meat of your ass, tugging you against him with a burning desire, fire coursing through his veins. The strangled moan that ripped from your throat was one you weren’t expecting, but did it ever feel right, his strained cock digging into your hips as he pushed your body closer to his. You could tell he was well endowed even through the fabric of his trousers, a heat creeping up your neck at this realisation. 

“Don’t tease.” You spat, hands coming up to grip his slightly torn jacket, his arm coverings hiding any identifiers. You were going off of nothing aside from the little fire element pin that was securely pinned to the lapel of his uniform. Your hands found themselves tugging him forward, daring him to kiss you. 

“Don’t be a brat.” The stranger growled, swiftly lowering the cloth covering his mouth before assaulting your lips with his. It was all teeth and tongues, pure lust taking over every one of your senses, and it seemed to be true for him as well. You kissed back furiously, nipping at his bottom lip, eliciting a gasp from him that would turn into a groan as you rolled your hips against his, begging for some relief. “Easy, pet.” He muttered against the plushness of your mouth, a small tender moment slipping through the cracks. As much as you enjoy rough, there was a certain swell that filled your heart in knowing that he wouldn’t push too far. 

Your escapades were all tongue, teeth, and lips, strangled moans, and tugging at each other’s clothes until you both reached the green room wherethe band was supposed to be, however, your mystery man had ensured to clear it before he went out to find you. The only time either one of you broke from one another was for air or to push the door closed, locking it in the process. Both of you were too impatient, a carnal desire for one another pooling into your veins, fire spreading through you both and kindling in that very low spot in your abdomens.

“If you need me to stop, the safe word is Beelzebub.” The man’s husky voice cut through the groans, tugging your hips forward into his by the belt loops. He gave you a moment to process what he had said, but instead you grabbed onto his mask and tugged his head forward, lapping at his bottom lip in order to gain access to his mouth. As soon as he parted his lips, you were welcomed by his tongue dancing in tandem with yours. He tasted of wintergreen and cigarette smoke, a combination so sinful, so depraved that you should have been turned off, instead it flooded you with desire. 

“Need you.” You panted out between kisses, the man unrelenting his assault on your mouth. You were utterly soaked through, and you were certain that the musician could smell you but you didn’t care, not right now anyway. You should have been embarrassed by being taken like this but it just turned you on even more knowing that maybe you would get to live out your newly discovered kink instead of trying to soothe — or smother — the flames by yourself. 

“Do you need me?” The man mused. “Mmm, prove it to me, my little devil.” His hand crept from your waist down to your hips, and from your hips down to between your legs, agonizingly circling your cunt, thumb pressing into the seam of your jeans in the exact spot your clit would be in. “Show me how needy you are for me… Go on…” His husky voice teased. When you didn’t react he spun you so your back would be to him, a strong arm holding you against his body while the other busied himself with teasing you. His breath was by your ear now, and his cock pressed into your ass. He was so worked up that he began to rut his hips forward, moaning at the friction. His moan elicited a reaction in you, causing you to throw your head back onto his shoulder, mouth falling open. The tassels on his overcoat swayed with each rut of his hips, tickling the side of your face. You couldn’t imagine he wasn’t warm in his get up but you were too occupied to do anything about it. 

“Please, fuck, I need you.” You choked out, eyes screwed shut as he teased. You felt him lick a stripe up your neck before nipping just underneath your ear as a small warning before latching his lips to the sensitive spot, sucking a dark bruise into your skin. The sickening combination of his lips on your neck, his hard on rubbing against your ass, and his fingers teasing your clothed cunt was becoming too much, driving your senses crazy. A low growl emanated from deep within his chest, reverberating across your back from the proximity.

“Then get down on your knees….” He spins you around, voice low and husky as he shoves you down, a mix of fear and burning desire settling in the deepest pits of your stomach. Your knees hit the ground with a thud and you’d be sure to bruise later, but that was a small price to pay. You watched him undo his belt and pull his zipper down before bringing his hand back up to his face, licking it slowly like he had during the show. You knew what was coming but what you didn’t expect was him to give you one last order as he spidered his fingers down the ruffled fabric of his shirt. “And pray.” An animalistic snarl came from beyond the mask as his fingers trailed into his boxers this time. The man tugged his cock out and began to stroke himself, chest heaving, his breathing became laboured. 

“Oh, god.” You uttered, but the musician didn’t seem to like that. He let go of his cock, allowing it to bounce against his stomach, a stark contrast with his black attire. It looked delicious with the little opalescent bead of precum nestled on the very tip. 

“No, my pet,” he purred, his thumb coming to your lips, slipping past them and into your mouth. It tasted of brass and sweat yet you opted to hollow your cheeks around it anyway, “you answer to our savior, satanus here. You are no longer in the house of god.” There was a cruelty behind his voice, corruption on his tongue. You would have thought the theatrics would have instantly had you shoving him away, but instead it left you craving the masked man, mouth salivating at the thought of him completely ruining you. 

Without much warning, he tapped his cock on your lips, his precum smudging across your lips, and satanus, was it going to be his death. Your dark smudge of red lipstick would become ruins in the wake, the thought of a red ring around his member had his brain short circuiting, if you didn’t take him in your mouth soon he was going to lose it. Luckily you complied, opening wide to accommodate his size, letting your tongue lap at his tip as he slid in. He started slowly, almost carefully in order not to hurt you but soon enough you pushed his cock to the back of your throat, eliciting a strangled moan from him. His hands flew to your hair, desperate to hold onto something, anything, and he tugged you forward, pulling a moan from the very back of your throat. You pulled back, saliva building up in your mouth mixing with the salty taste of his seed.It wasn’t something you expected to like but you found yourself chasing it, craving more. 

Your head bobbed over his length, your moans muffled as you tried to take him deeper, his tip brushing the back of your throat. His delicate resolve broke then and there, slamming into you at a frantic pace. He chased his high, immense pleasure searing through his veins as he fucked into your mouth like an animal, all sense of self control was gone. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, giving him the most innocent look you could muster as you flicked your tongue over his tip, lapping at his slit. Agonisingly you pulled back, employing the aid of your hand around his length, taking only part of him in your mouth. You jacked him off as you hollowed your cheeks around his tip, tongue expertly flicking over his frenulum and eliciting the most pornographic moan from him.

“Satanus, save me.” The man hissed from above you, pulling on your hair to draw you closer. He was losing control, babbling about how pretty you looked on your knees for him. “You are so exquisitely sinful, my pet.” His chest heaved with every breath he took, fingers tangling themselves further into your head of hair, fingernails practically at your scalp. 

You take the praise and you run with it, taking it as a signal to keep going, and this time you move your free hand up his leg, rubbing over his thigh as a tease, a preamble to what you were going to do next. You took his groan as a confirmation to continue, his breaths coaxing you to keep going. You slid your hand up, opting to rub his thigh teasingly, savouring the feeling of the looser material under your fingertips, toying with it before you continued your journey up. While your mouth and right hand busied themselves with his thick cock, your left hand came up to fondle his heavy balls. Who knew that praying to a false idol could be so pleasurable. 

“Oh, oh, f-fuck.” The taller threw his head back, voice gruff and fucked out, clearly enjoying this more than he should have been. He was rapidly losing any grip on the situation and he needed to extract himself from it unless he wanted to spill into your mouth. It was his nightmare, his most sinful fantasy, having you like this after the show – a stranger, a person in the crowd. The amount of people that would absolutely kill to be in your position and it was likely that you weren’t appreciating it as you should have been. The man keened before tugging you back harshly, his hips stuttering at the sudden loss of contact from your mouth. “If you keep going like that, I’m going to cum down your throat, sweetheart.” There was a certain level of concern laced into his tone, one that you glossed over through your lust. 

“Holy shit…” You breathe out, pupils completely blown, the colours of your irises practically disappearing due to how clouded your mind was with him, only him, nothing but him, and how divine his cock was. At your words, something inside him snaps and he grabs your throat, pulling you up. You could feel yourself growing more aroused by the minute. How he had guessed that you’d be into choking was beyond you, but fuck was this doing things to you that you hadn’t even thought possible. 

“There is nothing Holy here.” He growled out, a darkness overtaking his voice. His words sent a cold shiver down your spine, one that found itself shooting down towards your core, causing you to press to him. The ember glow from behind his goggles scanned over your face, flickering, igniting a fire in the bits of your belly. “Here we succumb to our lust.” He breathes before letting your neck go only to bring his hand down to your chest and massage your breast, pinching gently through the fabric of your tank top. In an instant, his mouth attacked your neck savagely, teeth nipping at the thin skin, tongue flicking over the bites to soothe them. You tilt your head back to accommodate him, your breathy moans coming up right beside his ear as you rut into him. You’re desperate to be fucked at this point, needing him more than you need to breathe. 

He pierced your skin with his canines, an animalistic desire for you taking over him. He could no longer think, all consumed by his desires. You felt his lips trail down, soft as a butterfly’s wings, stopping at your jugular vein before he bit down, causing you to let out a yelp. Your cry of pain turned into a pornographic moan as he sucked and lapped at your salty skin, a small sheen of sweat starting to gloss over you as you burned up. If this was what being in hell was like, you’d have a hard time coming up with reasons to wind up in heaven. Your torture didn’t end there; however, as he snaked his free hand up to your cheek, holding you in place tenderly as he continued his assault on your neck. He made it his mission to mark you up as his but you were too far gone to care. 

“Oh Christ.” You moaned as he lapped at the bite marks he left, but he didn’t seem to like this. Not that you could see this much, but his eyes turned dark as he trailed his lips farther down, burying his face in the crook of your neck before he bit down hard enough to draw blood. Your pain was immediately covered in a strangled cry of pure ecstasy as he tugged you towards him, his hand on your breast moving to your hip, surely bruising it, fingerprint embedded in the skin of your hip bone. 

The taste of iron filled the musician’s mouth, his hard on reacting to your metallic taste, pressing into your hip involuntarily. He couldn’t get enough of you - the intoxicating smell of amber and palo santo mixed with the salt from sweat, and the citrus of the gin… He wanted to ruin you once and for all. 

“No, my pet, you are not in the house of God. Only the devil resides here. Will I need to have you pray to me again?” The growl that ripped from his throat has you soaking your lace panties, a choked sob escaping from your parted lips. As he took you in, he noted that you already looked completely fucked out, the bruising on your neck blooming like deep red roses, a symbol of both love and devotion. The only thing you could do was shake your head in answer to him. “Mmm,” the stranger hummed, “your body and blood are mine, sweetheart.” He teased you. As your chest heaved, you examined him, traces of your blood down his chin, and some smeared across his mask, his lips were swollen from the harsh and animalistic kisses he was giving you, and satanus were you ever attracted to him in this moment. 

“Please… Can I see you?” You plead, your hands coming to his waist, trailing down slowly, your right hand making contact with his cock. The soft cant of his hips encouraged you to grip it gently, stroking him languidly as you await his answer. “Please…” You repeated, eyes desperately boring into the void behind his goggles. 

“Oh, is my little pet desperate to see me?” He cooed out, his fingers skillfully finding your belt, undoing it at a painfully slow pace. It was your turn to buck your hips into him, rolling them into his touch. “Mmm, such a little slut, can’t wait until I get my hands on you, can you?” He teased. 

“Satanus, yes, please! Wanna see you.” You groaned, breath catching as he slowly teased you through your jeans. “Need you, need- need- ah!” You cried, throwing your head back once again, eyes fluttering shut from absolute pleasure. It’s then that the man opted to unzip your fly, pausing his animalistic activities to gently tug your jeans over your hips. You weren’t having any of this slow and sweet shit; however, and kicked them off as soon as you got the chance to, allowing him easier access to your sopping cunt. The smell hit him immediately and he moaned, head falling against your forehead, his breathing ragged and strained. His cock reacted, bouncing in your hand and you continued your teasing. 

“Then beg me for it, pet. I don’t think you’ve earned the opportunity to unmask me just yet.” His resolve crumbled with every soft touch, every stroke. He pushed into your hand and you took that as a sign to speed your motions before you pushed him back. Confusion was written across his features, that was until you let a healthy glob of spit hit his angry cock. “Oh mother fuck.” The man hissed out, crashing his bloodied lips into your own, allowing the metallic taste of your own blood to permeate your tongue. You reciprocated, tongue swiping across his bottom lip, begging for entrance. He parted his lips, granting you access, as he swiftly moved your panties to the side, his thick fingers slipping between your weeping folds. It took everything in him to not take you then and there, your pussy sucking his fingers in, tight and wet. 

“Please, please, I need to see you.” You sobbed out between kisses, but it was clear that it wasn’t enough. The musician growled at your words, dipping his index into your slick and using it as a lubricant to tease your clit with, it took him a moment but he found the bundle of nerves. The instanthis calloused finger landed on your clit, your vision exploded into stars, mouth practically running on its own, incoherent pleas and various iterations of “more” tumbling from your swollen lips. You were finally giving him something to work with, the pleas, the praises. He continued working your cunt, curling his fingers into the sweet spot deep inside you, warm walls squeezing against him. 

“Oh, darling. I’ll give you whatever your sinful heart desires.” He nipped at your bottom lip, splitting it with his canines before he pulled back, panting as he tried to catch his breath, however he refused to remove his hand from your cunt, slowing his movements only a fraction so that he could catch his bearings. “Are you sure?” He asked you, a worry laced in his voice. You nodded fervently, a saccharine look in your eyes peeking through beyond the undeniable lust. Whether you understood he was anxious about what you would think of him or not wasn’t apparent but regardless, you wanted to know who the man you were bound to fuck was. 

With a swift move he tugged the mask off, tossing it to the couch behind him and removing his balaclava. What you hadn’t expected was the sight to take your breath away completely. His hair tumbled out of the bun he had it tucked into, and the messy curls cascaded down his shoulders, doe eyes framed by the prettiest eyelashes you’d ever seen, and his swollen lips? God you couldn’t even think anymore. You immediately kissed them, nipping at his lips, taking his bottom lip into your mouth and sucking, tearing a moan from him, his lust filled eyes expanding even farther as you continued your assault on his lips. You bit down harder this time, cracking his lip. This time the metallic taste belonged to him and you couldn’t help but moan at his taste. You needed more. 

“Please, I- I need you…” You panted, eyeing the man with carnal desire. 

“Eddie, my name is Eddie.” And with that final confession he grabbed you by the hip and dragged you back to the roomiest surface he could find. It was all teeth, tongue, and the metallic taste of each other’s blood. Your hand on his cock and his fingers still working you open, movements becoming more erratic as he practically drilled into you with his fingers, setting an unrelenting pace that he seemed eager to keep up. Your knees hit the back of a couch, and his arm immediately shot to the small of your back, gently lowering you, a contrast to how he was abusing your needy body. Your hands moved to his hair in preparation for what was to come, yanking at his soft locks, releasing a deep moan from low in his chest. His hair was silky underneath your fingertips, few tangles in the way or your mission. 

“Eddie, please.” You whined, flush with desire, unable to think of what you wanted anymore than wanting him. A smirk adorned his lips and he sank his knees onto the soft cushion, knees bracketing your hips perfectly, his hands coming up to frame your face, curls ticking your cheekbones as he did so. 

“Open up, sweetheart.” He cooed. Instinctively you parted your lips for him only to feel a glob of his spit fly into your mouth. “Now swallow like the good devil worshipping slut you are.” You obeyed without question, swallowing down his spit with a pornographic moan. As you did, he took a moment to line himself up for you. “God, you look so beautiful, blasphemous doesn’t even begin to cover it, pet.” He praised as he rubs his dick against your soaked entrance, your hips rocking into him, threatening to suck him in. He hissed but slid his hand down your body, tracing your figure with his fingers, teasing in the most tantalising way, once he reaches your ass, he gives it a harsh slap at which you gasp out, choking on your breath, the sting of his hand making contact with your ass radiating a heat you hadn’t thought possible. You hadn’t expected it in the least but it was welcome nonetheless. “Behave.” He growled out, a darkness seeping into the word.

“P-Please, Eds… I need - I can’t, please.” You babbled, words completely incoherent. You weren’t even sure what you were begging for at this point. His cock? His fingers? Were you asking to be fucked stupid? In all your incoherent ramblings and begging Eddie caught one thing that made his brain fuzzy around the edges. “Corrupt me satanus, corrupt me, please.” Playing into the whole devil worship aspect had him gone, his hips violently snapping into yours, completely disregarding that you might need to adjust to the stretch. Part of him felt bad, but your immediate response was to wrap your legs around his waist, crying his name out as tears brimmed your eyes, mascara beginning to run down your cheeks. To Eddie, you looked absolutely perfect. He leaned in and peppered kisses across your face to wipe away the tears that trickled down. 

“S’this what you want, my little pet? You want me to ruin you?” His husky voice was in your ear as he dipped his head lower, his hips rolling into yours slowly. He moved masterfully for someone so scrawny, cock buried to the hilt as he rocked into you. Your mouth fell slack, tightening your legs around his waist and tugging him into you. “Come on, answer me, sweetheart.” He coaxed, pulling out of you slowly before snapping his hips into yours. The pleasure and pain mixed together in a teasing dance, keeping you on the edge and overwhelming your senses all the same. You couldn’t verbally answer and so you turned your head, tucking your face into his neck and kissing up to his ear. About halfway up you landed on a sensitive spot, causing a moan to tumble from his lips, a shiver running down your spine. You latched on like a vampire, sucking over the spot, lapping over it with your tongue to soothe any violent bites you inflicted upon him. In turn he bit into your shoulder, trying to ground himself in reality instead of losing himself to carnal pleasure, the coil in his abdomen tightening evermore. His plan had gone to shit the moment you continued to nibble on his neck, your hands tugging harder at his lock, pulling him further into you. With a slight upward tilt of your hips, Eddie hit a new angle when he snapped his hips into yours, ploughing deeper into you. The both of you moaned in unison before he released a strangled whimper. It was your turn to break skin, your mouth filled with the crimson substance that sustained Eddie’s life. Releasing your lips from the wound, you kissed over his neck and to his shoulder, smearing the fluid across his upper half. 

His pace picked up, slamming into you, deeper and deeper, nothing but the sound of breathless lovers, bodies colliding, and the sweet ecstasy of carnal desire flooding the green room. Your hand then came to his back, scratching down it and eliciting a whine from the man above you. 

“Please, please, please.” You chanted into his neck. It was as if he understood what you meant, his hand coming down between your joined bodies to rub over the bundle of nerves, little figure eights being drawn over your clit. You were going to lose your mind, and maybe even your soul. Would selling it to the devil be so bad? It didn’t take long after that for a white heat to build, a pressure that you weren’t used to building, the coil tightening, threatening to snap like an elastic band. 

“Oh, shit, sweetheart, I’m close.” The man turned his head, kissing up your neck, over your cheek, and found your lips. His kiss was searing hot, burning with need. He chased his release with you, trying to bring you as close to the edge as he could, hoping you might be able to finish at the same time. “Don’t want to finish until you do.” The devil could be generous if he wanted to be.

“S’close.” You panted against his swollen lips, unable to give any coherent answer to him, not that you cared. If laying in sin felt this good, you’d bed the devil any day. “Please, Eds… Don’t stop.” And somehow he kept at it, the same pace, same pressure, same rough and unrelenting fuck that he had been using for the past few minutes. He knew that don’t stop also meant that he shouldn’t change a single fucking thing he was doing, and rightfully so. With a cry, you closed your eyes tight, lights dancing behind your eyelids as you came, the elastic finally snapping, and your release soaking Eddie’s stage uniform. 

“Oh- fuck!” The man squeaked, his own release following shortly after. He could have sworn he saw stars in that moment, arms shaking beneath his own weight. His body fully collapsed on top of yours, your arms wrapping around him tightly, kisses tenderly placed on his shoulder. “So perfect f’me.” He mumbled into your sticky skin, reluctantly peeling from you. His brutal and domineering demeanour melted away, replaced by a certain level of care. You could see it behind his eyes clearly. “You okay, sweetheart?” He cooed, brushing your hair from your face, a few strands sticking to your forehead. 

“Y-yeah.” You shakily breathe out, your voice hoarse from the activities that had just taken place. As you try to prop yourself up on your shoulders, you wince, a pain shooting through you. “Just sore.” You murmured, suddenly shy under the musician’s gaze. You didn’t dare look at him anymore, a twinge of shame filling your heart. 

“Hey, sweetheart, come here.” He mumbled, scooting closer, not daring to pull out just yet. He pulls you up, legs entangled with each other in a pile of limbs, unsure of where one person ended and the other began. He pressed your warm body to his, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, rubbing soothing circles over your back, his gentle voice whispering sweet nothings to you. 

“Thank you, Eddie.” You mumbled into his skin, placing a tender kiss over a forming bruise. “That was something else.” He hummed in agreement, allowing his eyes to flutter close for a second, letting himself enjoy a fleeting moment of human contact while he was on tour. While the guys were wonderful and he loved them to death, there was a certain intimacy that he missed in lovers. One that he didn’t indulge in as much these days. 

Reluctantly, he pulled out and you pulled away, debating whether to say anything to him, or whether you wanted to indulge in some more pleasantries. If you were any wiser and more observant you’d have noticed the longing in his eyes, his gaze trailing over your figure as you pushed away to gather your belongings. It was odd to say that the musician would have wanted you to stick around for some more aftercare, it would have been even stranger if he admitted to you that he just wanted you to stick around post coitus and have a drink, maybe a smoke, and get to know each other. 

“Hey, hang on, let me clean you up.” His voice softened, taking you aback. “Come on, pet, I’m not gonna leave you like this.” He gets up only to tuck himself back into his slick soaked uniform, cringing as he does so. He grabs a water bottle from the nearby table and a small cloth kept on the vanity in the far corner of the room. “Come on, just sit.” He motioned back over to the couch and watched as you hesitantly padded over. You sat down on the cleanest area you could find, squirming as you began to feel Eddie’s cum slipping out of you. 

“S’fine, you don’t have to.” You mumbled, turning away from the man. He sighed as he approached you, sinking to his knees before starting to clean your thighs. He worked his way up between your legs, cleaning the leaking spend from your cunt. He placed a few gentle kisses to the tops of your thighs, your eyes flicking over to him as he did so. That was the moment you got a good look at the man. Dark ink littered his skin, barely an inch was pure, untouched, the only areas you couldn’t see his tattoos were the areas in which you had drawn blood, the dried fluid flaking slowly. He continued cleaning you up, rubbing gentle and warm circles with the wet cloth. Part of you couldn’t help but find this incredibly thoughtful, your heart squeezing at the gestures, but the other half of you believed that you were probably just an easy lay. 

“Hush, yes I do. It’s the least I can do.” His doe eyes met yours as he looked up at you through his lashes. “I made a mess of you, darling, and I need to clean you up.” His voice was sincere, soft even, and you couldn’t help but melt. You allowed him to tend to your tired limbs, and once he got to your neck, he apologised, knowing that it would probably hurt. You couldn’t help but stare at the softness behind his eyes, the fire that burned within had fizzled out and was replaced by some unnamed emotion. As the towel made contact with your neck, you winced, earning yourself a kiss from the musician. It shocked you that even after the heat of the lustful moment he was still willing to kiss you but you accepted it, melting into his lips. They were soft, a little chapped, but inviting nonetheless. 

“Thank you.” You whispered against them, afraid your voice would give out if you spoke any louder. Your hand came up to his face, brushing your thumb over his sharp cheekbone before placing your forehead against his. “You’re sweeter than I anticipated.” 

“And you’re kinkier than I anticipated.” He retorted and moved back gently, only to give himself room to fold the towel over to a clean side before cleaning up your face with a gentle hand. “Thank you for indulging me.” He cooed out to you, his sincerity going straight to your heart. You couldn’t help but nod. 

“I should go.” Your voice broke, and in that same moment, so did Eddie’s heart. There was something to you that drew him in, that he wanted more of, that he craved. It flew past just the need for human contact, part of it had to do with the way you ran with the punches he threw, you went with the game you played from the stage all the way to the back room. Eddie nodded solemnly, pushing away. 

“Yeah, uh…” He bit his lip, tossing the washcloth on the coffee table. Surely worse things had been on that surface in the past, but right now Eddie didn’t care about that, not about what was on that table, what would be in the future, or what he just threw onto it. “You don’t have to, I actually, I don’t know that I want you to. Can I at least buy you a drink?” He asked, standing up straight. You turn around, grabbing your pants so you could slip them back on over your legs. 

“You want to buy me a drink?” There’s a hopeful tinge to your voice, head shooting over to look at the musician in question. As you did, you hissed out gently, the garden of blooming roses on your neck blossoming farther across your neck, bite marks adorning your skin like dark tattoos. There was no denying what had gone on. 

“Sweetheart, I think we both left a mark on one another,” he teased, “when you pray to the devil so well, I think it’s hard for him to resist.” A twinkle in his eyes told you it was more than just the sex you both had. “Besides, it might help with the pain. What do you say?” 

“Mhmm,” you hummed as if you were deep in thought, “only if the devil can treat me right.” You mused. “You going to change first?” You waggled your eyebrows, referring to his squirt-soaked trousers, only to receive a smirk in return.  “Oh no sweetheart, I wear my battle scars with pride.” With that, he pushed back to grab his helmet, slipping it back over his head before taking your hand in his and leading you off to the bar. He wasn’t what you expected, none of it was, the show, the music, Eddie, but as you took his hand you couldn’t help the feeling brewing in your chest; the feeling that maybe the unexpected was exactly what you needed.

taglist: @munson-blurbs @the-unforgivenn @littlesubbyflower @word-wytch (if you want) @rip-quizilla @hellfire--cult @mystish

[rowretro]

ENHYPEN MASTERLIST

Yandere fluff angst Smut

✧OT7✧

Still monster (series)

When you dodge their kisses

Yandere bully enha when another guy likes you

Yandere enhypen when you try the orange peel theory on them

Yandere enhypen when you ask for cuddles after your punishment

Yandere Sunghoon and Yandere Riki x reader Boquet(part 1)

Bloodied flower (Riki and hoon x reader series)

Lucifer (Yandere Sunghoon and Yandere Jay x reader)

✧YANG JUNGWON✧

Bet on Blood

Princess's Protector

Disappointment

The Haunting

Cherries and Chocolate

✧LEE HEESEUNG✧

Sweet Venom

Training season

Piece of cake

Tooth paste Mojito

Hee w a pregnant wife

✧PARK JONGSEONG✧

Black suits, Black cards and sweethearts

Such a Tease

Her

✧SIM JAEYUN✧

Real boyfriend

Dog eat dog world

Toxic much?

✧PARK SUNGHOON✧

Guardian Demon

Lost kitty

Pretty Ugly Fate

White Lotus

Cherries and cigarettes (short series)

Nighttime beauty

My Doll

Biker Bitch

Leo

Leo pt. 2

Sorry (series)

✧KIM SUNOO✧

Teacher's pet

Mr Boyfriend

✧NISHIMURA RIKI✧

Running from riki

Daddy Issues

Bloody sweet (completed series)

Moonlight (series)

Glitter, Lipgloss, Heels, Blood.

Oh baby baby (series)

Crazy for each other

Beauty loves Beast (series)

No guts no glory

Boyfriend

Oneirophrenia (series)

Metal meets love(series)

Drugs & Money

Pretty but mine

Can I ask a question?

My love

Cheshire

Oh my darling

Bloody treaty

So Scary

Lover's day

She's meant to be mine!!!

lover loyalty

[darcydarlingdabbles]

Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered

Ch 5 of Until the Devil's Last Dance ~ 3.6k

RadioApple₊⁺⋆ 50s Human AU ₊⁺⋆ Omega!Alastor ₊⁺⋆ Explicit~

Angst. Hurt/Comfort tones

Follow on Ao3

// thought I'd slip the first sexy chapter of my ongoing fic~ Check it out if you want like, story or something XD CW: Alastor here is a virgin in a world that is real backwards about omega sexuality. He has misconceptions. He has shame. He doesn't have the words to say he's on the ace spectrum. Lucifer is a damn decent alpha about it. // CW: Mentions of Alastor's experience offering sexual acts as a means of survival.

♫ ♫ ♫

Lucifer’s lips tasted of whiskey and yearning.  Alastor savored the smoky flavor, matching the alpha’s passion with his own carefully controlled fervor. Their kisses danced between tender and hungry, a delicate push and pull that was slowly worming past all of the omega’s carefully constructed walls. 

 🎶Men are not a new sensation I’ve done pretty well I think But this half-pint imitation Put me on the blink🎵 

The alpha pulled back for a breath. His eyes softened with concern as they looked to meet the omegas–to check on him.  As if Alastor’s defenses weren’t weak enough.  “Just thinking,” the omega murmured, before quickly diverting that train of thought mid track. “That you certainly know how to make a fella feel special.” “I told ya,” Lucifer gave a mirthful little chuckle. “I aim to please, sweetheart.”  Deft fingers curled under the omega’s chin, and pulled him back to continue their heated exchange of lips and the taste of tongues.  Alastor was bracing himself for what usually came next.  He knew what would happen when an alpha grabbed for him. He made sure to keep enough space, to have his escape route–and here he’d trapped himself between chairs and a table–in his own damn kitchen. He’d cornered himself, and he’d surely pay for it.  Those powerful hands with intricate tattoos reached for him, and he steeled his nerves for the inevitable. To be pushed and bent and pinned in the mockery of mounting.  But Lucifer surprised him. Yet again.  Instead of pawing at him greedily, the alpha grasped Alastor’s waist, like he was about to lift him on the dance floor, and he did so—right out of his chair.   Alastor found himself straddling Lucifer, their faces mere inches apart. “Is this alright?” The blonde asked, his voice husky. Alastor’s heart raced.  No, no, this was not okay. This was…unexpected, thrilling even. He was used to being pushed down, manhandled. But here he was, in a position of power, on the alpha’s lap. “More than alright, darling,” Alastor replied, his usual confident smirk in place despite his swirling inner turmoil. He cupped Lucifer’s face, relishing the smooth skin beneath his palms. “Though I must say, you continue to surprise me.” Lucifer’s hands settled on Alastor’s hips, firm but not forceful. “Good kinda surprises, I hope?” “The very best kind,” Alastor murmured, leaning in to capture Lucifer’s lips once more, his fingers curling into golden hair.  The omega marveled at the gentleness of this alpha.The difference was so stark. And so intoxicating.  A heady cocktail of excitement and trepidation coursed through him.  For once, he wasn’t being shoved into a wall or pushed onto his knees to satisfy someone else’s predilections. He was the one setting the pace, and Lucifer seemed content to follow his lead. The hand on the back of his neck was warm–and the hold didn’t tighten when he turned his head away and denied Lucifer his lips. Just to see how the alpha would react.  Only to have his heated mouth skim along the omega’s jaw, humming as he teased at his ear. Alastor felt a laugh bubble out of him. Not just from the cheeky sensation.  “Still playing the gentleman, are you?” Alastor murmured, pulling back slightly to study the alpha’s face. Lucifer’s eyes glimmered with warmth, even as he chuckled, “Trust me, I’m thinking some very, very ungentlemanly thoughts.”

🎵 He can laugh, but I love it Although the laugh’s on me🎵 

Alastor snickered, but inwardly, his despairs roiled. Did he trust Lucifer? The man had been nothing but noble since they’d met, despite how he looked. Even now, those smirking lips were claiming every inch of Alastor’s neck–without pushing past the barrier of his shirt collar.   He’d never experienced this level of consideration from an alpha before. His past encounters had been...less than pleasant, to put it mildly. “I must admit,” Alastor said, tracing a finger along Lucifer’s jawline, “this is rather new territory for me.” “Oh?” Lucifer raised an eyebrow, his hands still resting lightly on Alastor’s hips. “I find that hard to believe, given how charming you are.” Alastor’s smile tightened almost imperceptibly. He certainly hoped that the blonde wasn’t questioning his virtue–not when he’d worked so damn hard to maintain it.  His omega record was clean. His files claimed proudly that he was untouched–because, technically, he was.   But the reality was far more complicated…and undignified. He’d never let any of his alpha dates touch him. But a riled up, unpleased alpha could be an intimate type of threat for an omega.  Instead of dwelling on those thoughts, Alastor leaned in for another kiss, relishing the way Lucifer responded eagerly, without aggression.  Alastor would happily keep up this little dance…but Lucifer’s hands began to wander, sliding down his back…to untuck Alastor’s red dress shirt. The omega’s eyes snapped open during the kiss, warning bells going off in his head as palms pressed to bare skin. Pressing him further into Lucifer’s lap. The alpha was growing hard beneath him. And that sent tension rocketing through Alastor.  Old instincts flared to life, screaming at him to retreat–but he didn’t want to.  He didn’t want to be let go. He didn’t want the sweet touches and devoted attention to stop…when Alastor didn’t surrender enough of himself up.  He gripped the blonde’s hair, pressing harder into the kiss. Hoping it would last just a bit longer, before he did what he had to do. What he always had to do.  Sometimes, most times, it was just easier, safer, to get on his knees. To let the alpha have his mouth before they could take anything more.  No matter how humiliating it was.  “Al?” Lucifer asked, like something the omega had done had already given his thoughts away. Alastor forced a smile. “Just…savoring the moment.” Lucifer was not convinced.  Those eyes searched Alastor’s face, concern evident in his gaze. “Alastor?” he asked softly, his thumb tracing circles on the omega’s hip. Old habits warring with newfound passions. He needed to regain control of the situation, to steer things in a familiar direction.  “Perhaps we might be more comfortable on the sofa?” he suggested, his voice a silky purr despite the anxiety churning in his gut. The carpet would be easier on his knees than the kitchen tile.  “That’s a brilliant idea,” Lucifer agreed, pecking Alastor’s lips once more. Before the brunette could move, Lucifer’s muscular arms encircled him. With effortless grace, the alpha lifted him, cradling Alastor against his chest as he stood. The omega let out a yelp of unadulterated astonishment, clinging to the blonde’s shoulders, lest he be dropped on his ass.  “See, stronger than I look,” Lucifer chuckled, his breath warm against Alastor’s ear. “I told ya I coulda dipped ya on the dance floor.” “You certainly could have.” An amalgamate of fear and exhilaration flooded his veins.  He clung to Lucifer, inhaling the alpha’s tantalizing scent. For a moment, he allowed himself to enjoy the feeling of being held, of being cared for. Before Alastor remembered where—and what he was.  “Maybe, you’ll have your chance.” Alastor murmured, nuzzling into Lucifer’s neck. As Lucifer carried him towards the couch, Alastor steeled himself. He was ready for what would come next, what always came next–another act of submission, another alpha using him for their pleasure. At least this time, he thought, it might not just be for survival’s sake. 

🎵 And long for the day when I’ll cling to him Bewitched, bothered, and bewildered am I 🎶

Alastor’s back met the soft cushions of his sofa, his breath catching as Lucifer’s weight settled over him.  The alpha’s lips found his again, more eager, want practically pouring from him. But the nips were playful, nudging. Not dominating or pinning him down.  It left Alastor dizzy, his usual charm and calculated responses slipping away like sand through his fingers. “Lucifer,” Alastor gasped, turning his head to the side.  He needed a moment, just a second, to catch his breath, to think clearly before he lost himself altogether. Lucifer obliged, his attention shifting down Alastor’s neck, dipping past the collar of his shirt.   The omega’s eyes widened as he felt the alpha’s mouth trailing down his throat, inching dangerously close to his mating gland. Pleasure and terror jolted through him. “Wait,” Alastor whispered, his body clenching.  Most alphas avoided that spot, wary of accidentally claiming an omega they only wanted for a night.  But Lucifer was different, wasn’t he? Lucifer’s gaze retreated, a flicker of worry shadowing his eyes.  “Hey, I wouldn’t bite ya without asking, Al,” he promised softly. “I just want to make you feel good. Is that alright?” Alastor blinked, surprised by the alpha’s perceptiveness. How had Lucifer known? He hadn’t said anything aloud, had he?  “I…yes,” Alastor found himself saying, his usual mask of confidence faltering. “That’s alright.” As Lucifer’s lips returned to his neck, gentler this time, popping open the top buttons of his shirt. Even then, he took his time before trailing back to his intended target.  This tenderness, this care—it was unfamiliar territory. He didn’t know how to navigate it, how to maintain control. For the first time in a long while, Alastor felt truly vulnerable.

🎶I’m wild again, beguiled again A simpering, whimpering child again🎵 

Lucifer’s mouth ghosted over Alastor’s mating gland, sending voltaic shivers down his spine and tingling through his skin. As the alpha carefully teased the sensitive spot, humming like he was satisfied just getting his mouth on the omega—until Alastor felt the obscene way the blonde rolled his hips, grinding their centers together.  “Oh,” Alastor breathed, his eyes fluttering shut.  A rush of arousal flooded through him, leaving him wet and flustered. This feeling…it was so foreign outside of his heats. He squirmed as his mind fought to process the magnitude of it. A whimper nearly escaped his lips, and the omega prayed it and the vulgar reactions of his traitorous anatomy would go unnoticed.  “Fuck,” Lucifer’s nostrils flared. A slow, appreciative smile spread across his face. “You smell so good,” he murmured, his voice husky with desire. Alastor couldn’t wrap his mind around it, around what he was supposed to do now? All his scripts had run out of pages and his composure was ruptured down the middle.  Alphas weren’t supposed to be able to control themselves around the scent of omega slick.   “I’d love to taste you right now,” Lucifer purred against his neck.  Alastor’s eyes snapped open, his entire body burning.  Alphas using an omega’s mouth? Certainly. Frequently, even. But going down on an omega? That was beneath them, wasn’t it? Even once mated.  “I…what?” Alastor stammered, his usual eloquence deserting him. “You want to…?” Lucifer nodded, his eyes dark with hunger. “I do, so much, sweetheart.” This was not how things were supposed to go.  He was the one who offered to alphas, not the other way around. And yet, the thought of Lucifer’s mouth on him sent a tingle of excitement through his body. “I’ve never…that is, no one has ever…” Alastor trailed off, uncharacteristically flustered.

 🎶Bewitched, bothered and bewildered am I 🎶

Nerves seized Alastor’s chest, constricting his breath.  This was uncharted territory, a vulnerability he’d never allowed himself to experience. Before he could voice his concerns, Lucife’s expression shifted, brow furrowing. “Alastor? Are you alright?” His voice was gentle, laced with genuine worry. The omega swallowed hard, dragging a smile. “Of course, dear. Why wouldn’t I be?” He tried to infuse his voice with its usual confident intonation, but it sounded hollow even in his own ears. Lucifer’s eyes narrowed, searching the omega’s face. “Have you ever…been with an alpha before?” The question hung in the air, heavy with implication.  “Of course not,” Alastor huffed, putting on offense as he bought time to choose his words carefully. “I’ve never let an alpha have–knot me.”  It wasn’t a lie, not technically. Understanding dawned on Lucifer’s face.He retreated, severing the intimate contact between them. Alastor felt the loss acutely, an unexpected ache blooming in his rib cage. “I see,” Lucifer said softly. “Maybe we should just, take a breath–” “No!” Alastor blurted, surprising himself with the desperation in his voice. And how he reached for the alpha the moment he pulled back. “I mean, there’s no need for that, darling.”  He needed to regain control of the situation.  Alastor’s hand trailed down Lucifer’s chest, a rehearsed move he’d perfected over countless encounters. “I’m quite skilled with my mouth, you know.” Lucifer caught the omega’s wrist gently. “Alastor, you don’t have to—” “I want to,” Alastor prevaricated.  But this, at least, was familiar territory. He could distance himself from his own vulnerability, focus on Lucifer’s pleasure instead of the confusing maelstrom of his own desires. “Please, let me do this for you.” Alastor had found himself in the bittersweet position of being caught up in the clutches of a good man. He might just enjoy having a cock forced down his throat.  No. He wouldn’t.  But he would recover before his broadcast. He could satisfy this bizarre need to be touched with the alpha’s hands in his hair.  and he might just be happy to have pleased Lucifer.  The alpha’s gaze bored into him. “Do you actually enjoy that, Alastor?” The question caught the brunette off guard. No alpha had ever asked him that before. He swallowed hard, plastering on a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.  “Of course I do, darling,” he lied smoothly, reaching up to pull Lucifer into another kiss. For a moment, Lucifer reciprocated, his lips moving against Alastor’s with that same bewildering blend of affection and tenderness. But all too soon, Alastor felt him pulling back, slowing down. Frustration bubbled up inside him as he tried to deepen the kiss, to reignite that spark from earlier. “Alastor,” Lucifer murmured against his lips, “there’s no rush.” Alastor let out a small, impatient huff. “My dear, I assure you, I’m quite ready to—” “I’m not,” Lucifer interrupted softly, pulling back to meet Alastor’s gaze. “Not like this.” The admission stunned Alastor into silence. He’d never encountered an alpha who wanted to take things slow, especially not when Alastor was trying to throw himself at them.  A familiar sense of shame crept in, and the brunette pulled back, covering his face.  Had he misread the situation entirely? When he had turned into such a wanton whore? Lucifer must have sensed his distress because his expression lightened. “How about we just…touch for a while?” he suggested, his hand coming to rest on Alastor’s chin, nudging the omega to look at him. “Doesn’t have to be anything more.” “I…suppose that would be acceptable,” Alastor managed, trying to conceal his uncertainty.  Just as long as Lucifer didn’t pull away from him. Something in the omega just couldn’t handle that right now.  With a sweet smile, Lucifer’s hands moved back to his hips, and this time Alastor was on board with the next move.  Gracefully, he slid one of his legs over Lucifer’s, settling into the alpha’s lap, gripping to his shoulders as he rocked forward to kiss him again. Slow, heartwrenchingly slow. 

🎶I’ll sing to him, each spring to him And long for the day when I’ll cling to him🎵 

Still, Alastor knew when he’d gotten through to the alpha when hands started to wander again. To the buttons of Alastor’s shirt, slowly undoing them one by one.  “Is this alright?” Lucifer asked softly, his eyes never leaving the brunette’s face. Alastor nodded, not trusting his voice. The omega held his breath, waiting for the moment when Lucifer would grow impatient and simply rip the garment off. But it never came. Instead, Lucifer’s fingers trailed reverently over each newly exposed inch of skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. This gentle exploration was entirely new to him, and he found himself melting into Lucifer’s touch, craving more in a way he’d never experienced before. His fingers curled into the hair at the base of the alpha’s neck. Needing the alpha and everything he gave. His pulse fluttering as the vest and suspenders slipped off of his shoulders. 

🎵 And worship the trousers that cling to him Bewitched, bothered, and bewildered am I 🎶

Lucifer’s inked fingers traced lower, skimming along Alastor’s abdomen and pausing at the waistband of his trousers.  The alpha’s eyes sought permission, a silent question in their depths. Alastor felt a rush of nervousness, but nodded his assent. He wanted it. He lusted after it.  And as Lucifer’s hand slipped beneath the fabric, Alastor instinctively pressed his thighs together, a concoction of anticipation and apprehension coursing through him.  “I’ve never…” Alastor’s whispered voice tried to break. “That is to say, I’ve never had anything…inside me.” “Oh…” Lucifer’s movements stilled. “Not even during your heats?” he asked, honest curiosity in his tone. Alastor shook his head. “No, of course not,” he replied, a hint of defensiveness creeping in. Even as he had to bite back the shame that surged again.  “Hey, it’s okay,” Lucifer soothed, pressing a soothing kiss to Alastor’s temple. “Nothing inside, I promise.” Alastor hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Alright,” he agreed, willing his body to relax. Lucifer’s fingers resumed their exploration, his kisses gone slow and meandering as he slipped into Alastor’s undergarments–and found him drenched with slick.  The omega gasped as he realized just how wet he’d gotten from the alpha’s attentions, but Lucifer seemed far from put off by the lewdness of it.  The alpha was just tracing over his folds, teasing the most delicate part of him like Alastor had never let anyone–when a jolt of pleasure unlike anything the omega had ever experienced shot through him. That whimpering sound clawed its way out of the omega’s throat.  Lucifer smiled against him, continuing his ministrations as he whispered against Alastor’s ear, “You’re beautiful like this, sweetheart.” Fuck, how could Lucifer even think this was beautiful? He was a mess. A creature of nothing but need and hunger that demanded to be satisfied. Could think of nothing other than the way that those fingers played with his clit.  The only other thing that Alastor felt…was overwhelmed, caught between the physical sensations and the soft words.  It was nothing like the rushed, impersonal encounters he’d known before. This was something entirely new, a gratification he’d never allowed himself to imagine possible. “That’s it,” Lucifer murmured, his lips brushing Alastor’s mating gland, singing pleasure from it, too. “Just feel it, sweetheart.” Then, the sensation crested and crashed over him all at once.   Alastor clung to Lucifer, burying his face in the alpha’s neck. He breathed in Lucifer’s scent, letting it ground him as he trembled with each new sensation. “ I’ve got you.” And for the first time in his life, Alastor let himself believe it.

🎵 I’ve sinned a lot; I’m mean a lot But I’m like sweet seventeen a lot Bewitched, bothered, and bewildered am I 🎶

As the last tremors of pleasure subsided, reality came smashing back. As it always did.   Alastor’s face burned with shame, his contentment evaporating like morning mist. He jerked away from Lucifer, covering his face with trembling hands as he nearly tumbled from the alpha’s lap. “Whoa, hey, Al, what’s wrong?” The tattooed arms clutched him, just trying to settle him onto the couch before he could fall off it.  “I-I’m so sorry,” he stammered, voice muffled behind his palms. “I don’t know what came over me…” “Sweetheart, I can’t understand you when–just talk to me.” Hands wrapped around his wrists, but Alastor couldn’t bear to meet those golden eyes. “I swear I’m not…I’m not some easy little slut–I’ve never done that before.” “Whoa, hold on. You’ve never…orgasmed before?” Lucifer’s voice was incredulous.  And Alastor felt an entirely different way to burn. He wanted to turn to cinders, to ashes, and to dust.  He knew what he’d been taught, and he’d desecrated any semblance of dignity he had.  Omegas should never be so desperate for it. So keening and mewling for pleasure. He had to find a way to salvage his carefully cultivated image, he wasn’t some whore. He wasn’t.  Lucifer’s voice cut through the panic. “Alastor, baby, look at me.” Reluctantly, Alastor lowered his hands, meeting Lucifer’s gaze. The alpha’s eyes were soft, filled with understanding rather than judgment. “There’s nothing to apologize for,” Lucifer said firmly. “Enjoying it doesn’t make you easy or…any of those other things.” “I…am not supposed to—omegas shouldn’t…” “Who says they shouldn’t?“ Lucifer shrugged. “They aren’t here. And I liked it.” Alastor’s face flamed as he looked at the alpha, who just gave him a big goofy grin. “ And…” Lucifer’s tongue flicked teasingly against his teeth. “I’d really like it if you did it again.’“

 🎶 He’s a fool and don’t I know it But a fool can have his charms🎵 

As he spoke, Lucifer brought his fingers to his lips, savoring the evidence of Alastor’s arousal. The omega’s breath caught in his throat at the sight. “I’d love to taste more of you,” Lucifer purred, a mischievous glint in his eye.  The words sent a fresh wave of heat through Alastor’s body.  The shame, it still lingered, roiling in his gut. But…it was quickly being drowned with desire. If Alastor could only let it.

🎶Vexed again, perplexed again Thank God, I can be oversexed again Bewitched, bothered, and bewildered am I. 🎶

[luciferlightbringer]

Love in a Hopeless Place

Chapter 9

I'm sorry for being so evil... Just kidding, here is a little more pain before it gets better 😘

Chapter 8|Chapter 9|Chapter 10|Updated through Chapter 12

Lucifer x prostitute fem!reader Word Count: 3.9k CW: Slowburn, Angst, Prostitution, Hurt/comfort, trauma, fluff, depression, anxiety, insecurity, alcohol/intoxication, fuckboi flirting

You get to the hotel and check in, it wasn't crazy fancy or anything, but it was nice, quieter, didn't reek of sex and drugs. You got up to the hotel room and, maybe because you were somewhere that didn't remind you of all of the pain from the night before, you were able to flop on the bed and fall asleep. You slept without any dreams, not a healing sleep per-se, but you had caught up on the sleep you had lost from the night before.

You look at your phone, damn, you basically slept your first day of vacation away. Oh well, vacations don't need to be productive. You stare up and the ceiling, your mind wandering from what you should do, back to Lucifer. You wonder how his day was, he probably knew his next few appointments were canceled at this point, would he be mad or disappointed? Would he remember what happened last night?

You shake your head and growl at yourself, tugging at your own hair in frustration, 'Why do I fucking care so much?!' You got up and paced the room. You ran your hands up your face and through your hair as you walked over to the window, and pressed your forehead to the glass looking out at your view for the next few days. You saw a few restaurants, bars, and stores that littered the main drag, until the name of one grabbed your attention, and made you chuckle.

"Rock Bottom, huh? Feels appropriate for tonight," you say out loud to yourself as you change into more appropriate "out in public" clothes. You were feeling like a loser, but at least you didn't want to look like one. You grabbed your purse, strapped on some heels, and hopped across the street to the bar that felt it aligned with how you felt about life at the moment.

The bar was a dive, but it was not bad. There was a chill downstairs and a spiral staircase off to one side that twisted up to another floor with some flashing colored lights and some guys singing some sad and off-pitch karaoke. Yup, this was the vibe for the night. Luckily, this bar did not seem super crowded and you were able to find a seat with ample space over near the side of the bar to set yourself at.

The bartender saw you and nodded in your direction while they were finishing a couple of drinks. "Be right with you in just a moment, sweetheart," the woman said while juggling her bottles and shakers.

"No problem," you said with a tired smile. You watched the woman flip and spin the bottles as the customers in front of her watched with excitement. You loved watching bartenders who could do cool tricks, it was not a requirement for their job of course, but you were sure it got them more tips and it always made you hope that they enjoyed what they did. Or maybe they were just trying to give themself some amount of joy in their hellhole of a job working with drunk people and their bullshit.

Eventually she passed off the drinks to the customers, tossed her towel over her shoulder, and headed over to you.

"Thanks for waiting, welcome to Rock Bottom, what can I get ya?" the woman asked you. She gave off a "cool biker mom" kinda vibe, lots of tattoos and piercings all over her, a biker looking vest and short cropped slicked back black hair with one big pink streak jutting back from her right temple, all being held back by a red bandana.

"Just a long island iced tea, please," you said softly.

"Ah, one of those nights huh?" She said cocking an eyebrow, "No problem, coming right up."

You lean more on the bar, "What do you mean by that?" you say with a sly smile and a squint.

The bartender waved her hand, "I'm sorry, you're not one of my regulars, I shouldn't joke so bluntly right off the bat. Normally, the heavier the starting drink, the more sorrow the customer is trying to drown out."

"Hmm. Well, you're observations are quiet astute, as that is exactly why I ordered it," you say with a cocky smile.

"Well, the down on their luck do happen to be our target audience," the woman says flipping her shaker and bottles again, "May I ask what we are drowning today?"

You make a raspberry sound and then rub your face.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," the woman said to you.

You laugh, "No it's fine, just hard to sum up in a quick statement. Just... work bullshit and... I don't know... utter fucking confusion of my life and what to do."

The woman nods sympathetically, "Sounds like hell." She looks at you, you both crack a smile and laugh. She hands you your drink.

"Sure is Hell... Just... almost felt like I had escaped it for a little... But anyways... I won't bother you more with my bullshit," you say looking down at your drink and taking it in your hands.

The woman shrugged, "Hell doesn't got therapists, bartenders are as close as they come. Name's Brooklyn if you need anything else, sweetheart." Brooklyn said, flipping the towel over her shoulder again as she went to greet another new guest who had settled on the other side of the bar. By the way Brooklyn greeted them, they looked like a regular.

You sipped on your drink and people watched for a while. As the night went on, you ordered some food and a few more drinks, watching people some and go. The room started to fill up with more patrons.

At one point, you saw a young Imp couple come in and snuggle into a booth together, kissing and snuggling, happily tipsy and enjoying each other's company. You sighed, you missed Lucifer and the way he would hold you. You wished it was real, you wished you could figure out if anything about your relationship with him was real. It also still drove you crazy trying to figure out why you would want it to be real. It was just a job... right?

Eventually, some drunk guy sauntered up to you. 'Oh boy, here we go.'

"Hey hot stuff, what are you doing moping over here by yourself, you're to sexy to be sad," he slurred at you, leaning on the bar.

You sighed, turned on your barstool and kicked one leg over the other, "Actually, I'm just sexy enough to be sad, thank you very much. Also... just out of curiosity, does this tactic ever work for you? The whole drunken loser with a backhanded compliment shtick?" You cock and eyebrow and smile.

"Wha- pffttt. Wow, why you gotta be such a bitch? I was just wanting to show you a fun time," he said leaning more into your face.

"Oh ya? And what would that look like? A minute of disappointing fingering and unimaginative attempts at dirty talk followed by five minutes of lack-luster penetration, doggy style with my unstimulated, unenthused, bone dry cooch while you scream "You like that you dirty little slut? You like how daddy fucks your tight little pussy, babygirl?" before you combust and roll over saying you are too tired to even attempt to make me feel any amount of pleasure, let alone getting me off? That kind of fun time?" you say giving him a smug smile.

The man in front of you just stares at you slack-jawed, so mad and confused he did not know what to say. You smirk, kick one of your heels up onto the middle of his chest, "That little bit of fun public degradation is the most fun we will be having tonight. Now get out of my face." You say as you push your foot against his chest, sending the man toppling backwards into a few onlookers that parted to let him drop to the floor and flail. You get a couple of whistles, claps, and hollers as you turn back to your drink.

Brooklyn stood at your end of the bar with a big smile on her face, "Well then! I was about to get ready to tell him to piss off, but you seem to have already handled it."

You shrug, "Men like him know they have no chance with shit like lines like that. They know they are going to get shut down and honestly, they love being put in their place. It's a kink for them, even if they would never want to admit it outright. I did him a favor really. If he is able to remember any of that interaction tomorrow, he'll have jerk off material for weeks." You say looking at him still splayed out on the floor.

Brooklyn howled with laughter, "Wow! That's incredible! Hey, do you mind if I ask you a question?"

"No, I won't do you next," you say, you and Brooklyn erupt into more laugher. "Sorry, yes, ask away."

"Are you a sex worker?" Brooklyn asked. You nod. "Nice! My ex-girlfriend used to be a sex worker and she used to be able to mentally bulldoze men like that, so I was just curious. It's always so fun to watch."

"Guilty as charged, but I'm off the clock for a few days," you say.

"Ah, very good. Doing anything fun?" Brooklyn asked.

You picked up your cup and shook it.

"Just drink away your sorrows? Sounds like a bummer of a vacation," she says wiping down the counter.

You shrugged and sighed, "I just... have some things I need to figure out. Just needed some space for a few days."

She leaned on the bar, "Space from what, if I may be so bold?"

You nod, "Ehhh, it's... not something I can talk about with others."

She shrugged, "Fair enough. I'm here every day if you change your mind."

"Thanks." You finish up a couple more drinks, happily drunk and numb, thanked Brooklyn and paid for your evening, and waddled your way back to the hotel before passing out for the night.

______________________________________________________________

The next morning you wake up with a hangover, which you expected, but it was worth it. You scroll through your phone for a while, but eventually you realize that you aren't actually looking at anything , just scrolling just to scroll. You sigh and stare at the ceiling of the hotel room, the thoughts of your issue with Lucifer drifting back.

You eventually feel the thoughts start to frustrate you and you start to cry. Why was this so hard?! The thoughts did not seem to want to organize themself into anything helpful, just stagnated in place in your mind, floating around like milk soaked Cheerios. Hells, you wish you could talk to someone, literally anyone about your issues, but you couldn't. You ended up getting up and pacing again until you ended up pressing your forehead against the cold window again. You looked out at all of the stores and people walking around, until your eyes landed on the Rock Bottom. You smiled, thinking about Brooklyn and the drunk guy from the night before.

Suddenly, a lightbulb went off in your head. Brooklyn, you COULD talk to Brooklyn! You just could not give her exact details like Lucifer, Charlie, the hotel, but you could talk to her about it in more general terms. Yes! This was the answer! Well... if Brooklyn was serious about being someone that you could talk to. It... wouldn't hurt to at least ask, right?

You quickly got dressed and popped back across the street to the Rock Bottom. You walked inside the bar, it was a lot more slow during the day, but there were still a few customers scattered around the downstairs area. You saw a young man at the bar, but no Brooklyn. You were disappointed not to see her.

"Hey there!" the young man called out to you, "Welcome in, how can I help you?"

"Hey... sorry, umm... I was kinda looking to see if Brooklyn was here. I can come back later," you start to turn to leave.

"Oh! No she is here, she's just in the back. I'll go get her for you!" the young man said before disappearing into the back. A few minutes later, Brooklyn emerged from the back storage room, and smiled when she saw you.

"Ah! Afternoon, sweetheart. How are you doing today?" Brooklyn smiled.

"Hey! I'm doing... alright... Hope I'm not interrupting anything," you say rubbing your arm.

Brooklyn waved a hand, "Don't worry about it, just doing inventory, earlier to do during the day when it's slower. What can I do for you?"

"Well..." you start, looking at the floor, then balled your hands into fits to get yourself to ask, "Did you mean what you said about being here... if I needed to talk?"

Brooklyn smiled, and looked at her watch, "I'm sure I can squeeze you in for an appointment, you good waiting for my lunchbreak?"

You waved you hands, "Oh! I don't want to take away from your lunch break! Plus, I don't want you to get in trouble or anything with your boss."

Brooklyn laughed, you looked at her confused, "Sweetheart, I am the boss, I can do what I want, and right now, I want to hear about what's got you sulking to my part of town and drowning your sorrows in my bar." You smiled and nodded, you don't know what it was about her, but you trusted her. She kinda reminded you of your grandmother, in the cool spunky kinda way, also maybe a little bit of how you used to be with your siblings. You waited about an hour and a half at the bar to finish up her inventory, and then you and her went up to a little balcony on the second level of the bar.

"Welcome to my office, now tell me miss... oh fuck... I just realized I've never asked your name," Brooklyn said embarrassed.

You laughed, "It's ok, it's (y/n)."

"Well alright, miss (y/n). What's going on?"

You start, without giving away exact details, tell Brooklyn the tale of the last several months, getting hired by a powerful person to secretly be their prostitute, the sex turning into nights of supports on both sides, helping them reconnect with their child and helping them achieve their goals, how they defended you against an abusive client, you left out the extermination fight but did mention that they were wanting to keep you safe during that event, and finally the night that brought you here. The whole time, Brooklyn listened intently, nodding and sometimes asking a clarifying question or two.

At the end of that all, Brooklyn sighed. "I can see why you'd be feeling overwhelmed right now. It would be confusing to love someone and got some drunk inducted, confusing confirmation of returned feeling while in a weird role/power dynamic with them."

You nodded, "Ya..." you blinked as you processed what she had said, "Wait... what?"

She looked at you and raised an eyebrow, "What?"

You stared at her, "I... I never said I loved him."

She nodded, "Yes you did."

You stared at her, "When???"

She smiled, "With every word you said about this person, how you treated them, how you felt about how they treated you... You do love them, right?"

You thought through everything, every look, every touch, every nickname, every night in his arms, every time he showed up in your room, the way he protected you, the way you thought of him when we were alone or with other clients, the way you felt being with him and Charlie at the hotel, the unbridled fear you felt at him telling him telling you he loved you. Why you cared if you lost him. It was all because you were afraid of losing the love you felt from him. The love you felt for him.

You loved him, you loved Lucifer.

Tears poured from your eyes as the realization sunk into you. You turned to look at Brooklyn, "Oh my god... I love him."

Brooklyn laughed, "Did you not realize until just now?"

You shook your head, the tears getting heavier, "No!" you choked out, your breath heaving, "I've never knew love could feel like this. I've never felt this before!" You start to crumple inward as the tears overtake you.

Brooklyn's smile faded, "Oh sweetheart," she pulled you into a hug as you sobbed. You tried to apologize and she just shushed you.

After you calmed down, you sigh, "Ok but... how do I know if he actually loves me?"

"He does," Brooklyn said.

"How do you know?" you sniffle.

She gives you a look, "Girl, how many guys that hire hookers introduce them to their daughters and then keep bringing them around their daughter and her friends?"

You blinked.

"And if that isn't enough, he beat up another client that hurt you. He doesn't just love you. He is down bad for you," Brooklyn smiled.

"And you're sure?" you ask.

Brooklyn nodded, "100%, on my afterlife, or may Satan take my bar."

You sniffled again and laughed, "Well, I wouldn't want Satan to take over your bar... I don't know him, but I get the feeling he wouldn't be as good of a bartender as you." You and Brooklyn laugh.

You look out from the balcony, thinking about how somewhere far away, on the other side of the circle, Lucifer, the King of Hell, was in love with you. Maybe thinking about you. Missing you. It made your heart ache, thinking of how you had run away from him, when you now realize he was probably just too scared to tell you how he felt.

"Do you think he'll be mad at me for running away from him?" you ask Brooklyn.

She shook her head, "If he is any man worth keeping, and if there really is that much of a power dynamic difference, he'll understand why you did what you did."

You nod. At this point, Brooklyn had to go back to work. You hung out at the bar the rest of the night, not getting nearly as drunk this time.

The next two days, you would go back to the bar during Brooklyn's breaks to talk through new thoughts and insecurities, and Brooklyn would softly but firmly refute each one. Damn, is this what therapy was like in the living world? Life would have turned out different maybe if this was something you had back then. Oh well, it's too late now.

On your last day, you packed up your room and went to say goodbye to Brooklyn, she gave you a hug and wished you goodbye. Telling you that you were always welcome to come back and talk, and that she expected an invite to the wedding if it worked out. You both laughed.

Soon, it was time to get int the car and head back home, back to the Lounge, back to Lucifer.

_____________________________________________________________

A little bit later, you arrived back at the Lounge. You got out of the car, headed up to your room to drop off your bag, then headed downstairs to see Larry and tell him you were back.

You found Larry and he smiled to see you, "Babydoll! I'm so glad you're back. How're ya feeling?"

You smiled, "Much better, thank you for being patient with me."

"Of course! Now, here is your rescheduled appointments for tomorrow," he said handing you a list. You looked through, and were disappointed to not see "Lance" in his usual time. You looked up at Larry.

"No Lance?"

Larry shook his head, "We called him and let him know you were going on vacation, and he said he would call back when he wanted to reschedule." Ok, no problem. You could get that, maybe he just didn't want to jump on when you were going to be getting home from your break. Ya, that sounds like something he would do. He loved you, right? You could be patient.

You were patient... as days turned to weeks, and Lucifer did not call to schedule with you. Every day you lost more hope, life slipped back into the way it was before you had ever known him. Cynthhhhia watched you from the shadows of the brothel, pleased to see your decent into misery as she started to get more well paying client's again. Sure, playing nice with the customers did pay off, but so did knocking Larry's favorite girl off of her groove. And the best part? No, one would ever know.

One day you looked out the window of your apartment and sighed, "Guess you were wrong after all, Brooklyn. Looks like Satan will be coming for the bar after all."

You wanted to laugh at the idea of Satan trying to run a bar, but all you could do was cry as your newly discovered heart was now broken.

Serves you right for thinking that love was actually possible in such a hopeless place.

______________________________________________________________

Charlie's phone rang, she looked over to see her dad's ID pop up on her phone. She scrambled to pick it up, she had called him several times over the last couple of week and he had not been answered. It had her worried, he had not done this since before his visit to the hotel that brought them back together.

"Dad! Hi! It's so good to see you call. Are you ok?" Charlie asked.

Lucifer cleared his throat on the other end of the phone, "O-Oh course! Why, why would anything be the matter?"

"Uhh... because you haven't answered any of my calls in weeks? Also you and (y/n) were basically here every day and now I haven't seen either of you..." Charlie waited for a moment, Lucifer struggled to figure out what to say. Hearing your name made his heart sear with pain.

"Oh uh... we've uh... it's just been busy." Lucifer said.

"Dad, did something happened?" Charlie pleaded.

"I... I'm sorry sweetie, I can't talk about this right now. I was just calling to see if you could go to a meeting for me? Please?" Lucifer pouted. That was not a good sign. Something must have happened, but now did not seem like a good time to press, not over the phone anyway.

Charlie sighed, "Ok Dad, on one condition."

Lucifer paused, "That condition being???"

"Just... just come visit sometime this week, come have dinner with me? Please?" Charlie pleaded again.

Lucifer sighed, he may not have you, but he did still have his daughter, he couldn't lose that again, "Ok, I will."

"Great! I'll see you later! Text me the details of the meeting. I love you, Dad."

Lucifer told Charlie he loved her too, then Charlie hung up, and turned to see Vaggie, Angel, Husk, Alastor, and Niffty all looking at her in anticipation.

"What kin'a scheme you cookin' up now, Princess?" Angel asked.

"Well, would anyone up for a little, community "Emotional Intervention" bonding?" Charlie was met with a room full of mischievous, sharp, approving smiles.

______________________________________________________________

You guys, the Cynthhhhia hate is giving me LIFE, I'm so happy how much y'all hate her. Keep up with the ideas, how should she be brought to justice? 😈 As usual, leave a comment if you want added to the taglist so that you can get notifications when future chapters drop! xoxo, dany (OMG there are so many of you!😍 Please let me know if the tag isn't working for you) Taglist :(red names are not tagging for some reason 😢)@froggybich @wonderlandangelsposts @glowinthedarkbones1150 @marydragneell @crescent-z @superdinosaurnacho @jam0001 @kyo-kyo1 @so-get-this-sammy @lilzebeth @kelppsstuff @loquacious-libra @pinkhoneydrop @luleck @writer-girl99 @lavenz @stormz369 @littleladydemon @soujiswife @melday0105 @luluxx118 @sseleniaa @futureittomainn @cktkat @zaneyyyy @uravitsy @liecoris @starlitvenus @hannahrose130 @elleofdragons @butch-medusae @concentratedconcrete @erosamasan @stranger-chan @aquaamethyst96 @lxkeee @holyspacething @hulyenl @leximus98 @lu-ferri12 @mixplara @katnisspeetaprim @rebecca-hvnstn @roboticsuccubus83 @nekemewlita @femboyfatalle @thelethex @cryptidghostgirl @snowlotr @bangchansdirty-slut @glowymxxn @mcueveryday @hotvillianapologist @oneiric-rotaerc

[jksarchives]

2

[35/35]

NEXT │ PREVIOUS

˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

❒ reminder

boxer jk, angst, smut, light fluff, ewb | series

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❒ untitled

smut, angst | ?

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❒ the act of falling

angst, smut | 14.4k

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❒ there��s only me when there’s you

e2l, angst, fluff | 15.1k

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❒ pulling at your heartstrings

f2l, angst, happy ending | 2.8k

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❒ wants and needs

established relationship, smut, fluff | ?

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❒ forget me not

romance, humor, fluff, angst, college au | ?

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❒ liability

romance, humor, fluff, angst | ?

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❒ too late to dream

angst, smut, fluff, marriage au, age gap | series

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❒ bad habit

smut, fluff, spiderman au | 9.4k

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❒ love; weakness

angst, romance, fluff, borderline smut | 22.7k

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❒ besties for the resties

f2l, fluff, angst, smut | 21.2k

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❒ way back home

exes to lovers, fluff, angst | series

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❒ what are best friends for?

f2l, fluff, some angst | 10.2k

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❒ strictly platonic

f2l, smut, angst, fluff, humour | 19.4k

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❒ tantalizing

angst, smut | series

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❒ all over again

fluff, established relationship | 4.2k

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❒ the boy is mine

smut | 5.4k

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❒ gin and tonic (ft. mingyu)

smut | 2.2k

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❒ peas in a pod

smut | 3.6k

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❒ hotter than hell

smut, angst, some fluff, lucifer jk | series

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❒ heart’s detour

biker gang au, thriller, angst | 22.7k

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❒ onsra

vampire, angst, fluff | series

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❒ shatter with me

angst, fluff, smut, surrogacy au | series

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❒ four, seven, eight

angst, fluff, smut | series

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❒ infinity

alien au, angst, smut, fluff | 12.5k

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❒ b.a.s

smut | 3.3k

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❒ one of your girls

angst, smut | twoshot

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❒ empty space

angst, smut | twoshot

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❒ house of cards

angst, smut, apocalypse au | 17.5k

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❒ as the world burns around us

thriller, romance, apocalypse, angst | series

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❒ when it all…

exes to lovers, angst | twoshot

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❒ horizon

angel au, angst, fluff, smut | twoshot

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❒ proposals

f2l, light angst, smut, fluff | 18.1k

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❐ written in the stars

soulmate au, angst | 26.2k

[kiestrokes]

Does Biker Hwa send pics like this to Yeosol?

It’s like you read my mind 😏 when I saw these this the other morning I knew they had to be added to the fic. Here's what I'm thinking;

They still aren't dating, and Hwa wants Sol to sneak out of her room to join him for cuddles. She declines...but then he just had to air drop these pics. If only her damn brother would actually lay tf down, but no, Yeosang is laying down, and getting back up to do a face mask, laying down, then getting back up to make a cup of tea, laying down and sending all the Hwa selfies to their hyung group chat because when Hwa air dropped them, it went to both Kang siblings. Will she ever make it to Hwa's room?

[hellshoard]

cxncrie asked:

   You know, it wouldn't be so bad to occasionally show up at the hotel for help if Nimue didn't suddenly come across the one person who came down yearly to kill sinners off. Not to mention he'd completely eradicated an entire airship and tore the hotel in half with a single beam, a beam she almost got caught up in. She'll never forget that close call. 

   Her ears now flattened, she can only glare at Adam, at least .. she thinks that's Adam. The appearance was certainly different, though there were some similarities from what she'd seen. That aside, if that was him, then why was he here? Wait. Had he .. fallen? Was that even possible? No. That's not important right now. 

   Bristling slightly, she finally makes the effort to speak.

" What the fuck are you doing near this Hotel? "

   .. Yeah. That'll work. { Tosses Nimue @ Adam as requested o/ }

Gold hue eyes outlined in red studied the person in front of him, an eyebrow raised at her. His hair, once dark brown, was now a dark red color with silvery-violet streaks. His face wasn't human. It looked exactly like his extermination mask. And if someone were to take it off, all they'd see is gold beneath it. Flowing behind it but it'd never leaked out. His wings, which were tucked away at the moment just like Lucifer's could, were a deep red color with golden undertones. He wore a leather jacket with spikes on it, an black ACDC shirt with black pants and black biker like boots. He looked like the type biker rocker and most wouldn't think it was Adam until they took a good look at the guitar strapped to his back.

Regardless of how he died, he was still plenty powerful and not to be fucked with. He snorts, loudly, "None of your fuckin' business bitch."

Behind him, a long tail could be seen. It almost looked like a lizard tail yet it didn't hold any scales.

[meowsgirldrawing]

Tough Week (Papa Mammon-Obey Me)

Mammon being a good papa basically.

Word Count: 1,865

Mentions of other kids, slight poly of MC but can be interpreted as whatever wanted. Mentions of GN MC but gets called Mom

Other kids for reference- Here

Masterlist- Here

AO3 Link- Here

Summary:

Varya can feel her eye twitch, her knuckles ache from how hard she grips her cane. Her siblings all tease her in their own ways for having one at 26 but at this point, it’s her only lifeline with how utterly chaotic her siblings can be.

It's been a tough week..

Varya can feel her eye twitch, her knuckles ache from how hard she grips her cane. Her siblings all tease her in their own ways for having one at 26 but at this point, it’s her only lifeline with how utterly chaotic her siblings can be. 

It’s been a tough week.

First she finds out River and Ryder pulled Rhomb into some pranks, thus getting them all detention with her having to attend a basic hearing on their collective punishment. And on top of having to make one on the spot herself to appease Lucifer. “You’re the oldest, you have to keep them in line.” Thankfully Rhomb will be graduating soon, otherwise she might lose another decade on her life.

Adding to that, the next day she had to look for a missing Quinn, only to find him in one of the worst sets of town in the Lust ring, just ending a motorcycle race. It wouldn’t be so bad if she ended up walking in on him in a scuffle with one of the other bikers, them pissed they got beat by one of the Avatars’ kids. She’s usually fine with her siblings taking on their own battles, they need tough skin in Devildom anyway. But they just had to waste her time more by the biker making a lewd comment about her right in front of her dear, protective, little brother. 

Yeah, another punishment had to be made on the spot.

The day after that had her in the human realm with her calmer parent, MC and the youngest, Frankie. After some negotiations as usual about the human realm sending more exchange students to Devildom as per Lord Diavolo’s request, she was dragged to a party per Frankie’s request. She never minds parties, not really. Her father brought her to many in the Fall when she was around 18ish. 

Yet, her content mood went to downright sour as she noticed some human punk making too many moves on her younger sister. The men in her life were always respectful, save for some flirting in front of her and her siblings with their ‘mother’. So you can imagine how many seconds she was close to revealing her demon form. Thankfully Frankie wasn’t allowed to drink yet, because many drunk teens went on booing her, calling her names like ‘prude’ or ‘old woman’ as she yanked her sister out of the house and into her silver ride. 

Frankie’s apology hug did help lesson the headache that night but still.

Many similar instances occur for the rest of the week. The twins pulling more pranks. Ending up in an awkward position as Lucifer and Satan fought about a mundane thing. Lilly and Diavolo’s heir forcing her into an improve shopping trip despite wanting 5 minutes to herself. Having to make up more punishments when she could care less of what her siblings do for this once. And even when she got some time to herself, she had to deal with some low-life demons undermining her desperately at the casino. Unfortunately leading her to teach them why she’s considered the strongest, most powerful spawn of the Lords of Devildom. 

She’s had a tough week, and she needs a break.

Ignoring another phone call from Lucifer, Varya stuffs her DDD into her skirt pocket, slides her cane out of the passenger seat it was previously thrown carelessly into, and opens up her silver ride. 

It snaps shut with a harsh bang, and her heels click against the concrete as she makes her way to the building. Workers under her father wave or call greetings to her, used to her occasional visits, and she waves back, perhaps a bit more shortly than the wontoned. Her everyday smile a-tad tight more straight.

Through an elevator ride and passing several doors, she makes her way to the main office. Her father’s office. 

She hears his voice, deduces he’s either in a meeting or chatting up the phone by his tone, and knocks before sliding in and hanging on the side. Before she would hang outside, but right now, she needs to see him sooner.

Her back rests on the wall, her smile tight and as patient as she can make it.

“Yeah, well demand is comin’ soon with tha season so we need ta get goin’, Shilk.” Mammon’s nails tap on the desk, his wedding ring glinting in the forever red and purplish hues that filter in the giant glass. He looks up from his hard look into the client chair before him and nods his greeting. Varya bows her head lightly, her long, white hair falling over her shoulder.

“Ok, ok. I got it. I’ll have tha data send ta ya by the end of the week. Just make it snappy, Shilk.” His words pushy, but his tone a touch playful. He ends the call with a short bye, see ya later, before spinning towards his kid with a growing grin. 

“ Lil Treasure!” He smirks, “Long time no see, eh? Miss yer old man much?”

“Please.” Her eyes roll, playing his game as easy as pie. “I only came to check up on you, Mother wanted to come see you earlier this week but the exchange program discussions continues to keep them on Earth.” 

He hums, he misses his human too. Behind continuous operations of his ever-growing business and working behind the scenes for RAD, he’s barely had time to see them or their daughter. Speaking of…

“I heard you overtook a new territory this week!” He laughs, carefree as a demon can when talking about territory wars and power growth. It’s been a hot minute for himself to do so, but you don’t even have to look at the older demon to know he’s very damn proud his kid is just about following in his boots. Or Heels in her matter.

“Varya Morningstar- Daughter of Greed- overtakes the Newbon territory in a matter of 2 days, all with a winning smile present.” He recalls the headline he saw, whistling at the end.

 “Someone must’ve pissed you off.” Her eyes squint and join her smirk at his snicker.

“Well, I suppose when someone stares at your upper chest area a little too much while simultaneously telling you that betting your worth is the utmost impossible, it can be noted as irritating.” Her sharp canines shine. 

“That’s my girl!” He cheers, wondering closer. “Don’t let anyone tell you shit, yer my kid after all!”

Varya’s expression doesn’t fall but Mammon still notices anyway, “I hope I could always do so..yet it seems only Lucifer could continue to do so.”

A flash of understanding comes across his face as his head tilts. He doesn’t come across as pitiful, she may be his daughter but she was raised around the Avatar of Pride, but his hand comes to her shoulder, his brow sad/solemnly amused. “He’s really wailing into ya, aint he?”

“As if dealing with my siblings isn’t enough cannon fodder.” Her smile stays up as her shoulders tense, “I understand I am the eldest, but I can’t control every action they make. I haven’t a clue as to why he expects the opposite.”

“That’s Lucifer for ya, kiddo.” His thumb rubs light circles into her half-jacket. “Always wants people on their best behavior, even tried havin’ yer mom help out but they ended up just indulging in us more times than many.”

“But they are all of age now.” It’s rare to see his kid so upset, for years she always had a vacant expression on her face, and it wasn’t until she became older did she start having a smile everywhere, even when she was as pissed as an unsatisfied tyrant. It was her tool against fellow demons, what helped her use her ability as the eldest spawn of the 7 Lords of Devildom and rise to power on her own. People can’t tell how or what she plans, feels, anything. 

But Mammon knows, possibly the only one after his human that does. 

She’s had a tough week.

And now the cracks are finally making their way to the surface. Her smile is tight, no joy present. 

“Frankie may be in her mid teens, but she is old enough and smart enough to know how to handle herself!” Her voice wavers, not loud, at the end. “Why….why must I be the one to keep their un-needed leash? Why must I be turnin’ and throwin’ what I need to do for the day to the wind just to stop some silly prank the boys wanna do? They’ll learn why not to do it, right?”

She breathes, usually blue eyes flaring gold for a second. 

She turns silent then lifts to pinch her brow. “Apologies, Father, I came to take a breather but not to-”

Now he acts, now he wraps an arm around her shoulders and pulls her into his chest. “Oh shut it. Yer tired and you got a right to rant.” She tries to push back, not allowing such a ‘weak’ moment but Mammon doesn’t let her. If anything, he pulls her tighter, hand on her head, carding his fingers into her ponytail with a snicker. 

“Father-”

“Shushshushshush” His fingers emaphzie his motion, twirling strands or two, messing it from it’s pristine, soft and straight line down her back. “My baby needs a break-”

“Father!” Her cheeks flush, claws digging into his jacket. Her eyes, one closed from being squished into his chest, beat wide at the door. A tinge of fear stomachs. “The door-”

“It’s locked.” He huffs, his blue iris rolling, and he hooks his chin on her head, “Just breathe and hug yer old man, will ya? It’s awkward with yer hands all dangling like they are now.”

Theres a moment pausing the scene, her staring at the door, the more demonic side of her yelling at her to push him and off an leave! He’s useless! To go back to her newly established territory and start working again. Demons don’t cry!

Then there’s the small human part of her, tiny and hidden away, only meant for rare moments. Rare moments like this one..

She takes in a breath, sharp and cold numbing. 

Then melts. 

Her body goes from straight, rigid, awkwardly tight in Mammon’s hold to a full damn puddle, swift and flashing from one to the other like the transition between 5 year old her holding her 1st little brother for the first time of many to the 26 year old self who’s constantly being batted every which way and that, all while holding her greatest, carefully constructed weapon up high for everyone to see.

Even that falls too, especially that. Her smile drifts until the expensive jacket Mammon adorns wipes it away and welcomes her spilling tears instead.

Mammon has a smile that isn’t full of joy but still as kind, pressing a small kiss to her matching hair and planting his cheek into it. He sways them back and forth as Varya silently unravels, hands clutching his back, claws digging deep but thankfully not tearing.

Varya’s had a tough week. But at least she has her dad’s hugs to break that fall.

[blackzer0]

Seven SINS of ALASTOR

Read more below!

PRIDE: Violet is a rare color in nature. In history it was very expensive and just for the royalty. Alastor look is - of course - inspred by our all King Lucifer Morningstar!

WRATH: Red is a strong color for strong emotions. It's very eye-catching and of because of this used for warning signs. Beware the Radio Demon! I thought a lether biker suit would look good at him.

GLUTTONY: Orange is a color of joy and the sin of gluttony includes all parts of excessive lifestyle. Because Alastor is known as a canibal I gave him a bloody chef suit.

GREED: Green is usually a positive color, in particular the color of nature. The nature is rich of resources and greedy ones claim all this richness for their own. Alastor wears some kind of business style. Well, he's a deal maker!

LUST: The color of lust is discribed differently in different sources. Mostly it's described as red, but also yellow is known as the color of prostitudes. In history they had to wear a yellow belt, so everybody would know in which business they work. While I used red allready for wrath, I went with pink, which is often used as the color of love. Dod you notice the heart shaped ear tips?

ENVY: When someone falls for this sin, you say they turn yellow with envy. Sometimes green is used instead, but in the origin it's yellow. Why someone gets yellow, I couldn't find out. I made Alastors clothes nothing special, so he has more reasons to get envy and jealous.

SLOTH: There's no special color for this sin, but gray and brown is often used, because these are no bright colors, not eye-catching, just boring. I gave Alastor a hoody and sweat pants for a lazy day on the sofa.

I hope you enjoyed this lil color education my deer heathens! Have fun with your favorite sins! ❤️