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bunicate · 10 months ago

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⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི ₊˚ 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒃𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍. lucifer x fem reader

warnings ꒱ྀི daddy kink. prbly excessive use of princess/little girl/human. size kink. praise. nipple sucking. fingering. possessive luci. unedited as usual. wc ꒱ 6k ﾉ 18+

note . . ᘏ⑅ᘏ ﾉ i dunno if this is even a repost anymore bcuz the original fic was only 2k words :c . . i also thought I wasn’t cwazy abt luci anymore but boy . . wus i wrong. i still luv him dearly. i hope anyone who reads this enjoys. thankuuu ^_^

lucifer could never understand why humans, beings fettered by something as meaningless as mortality, could possess the ties to control and bind demons.

how such frail bodies of small messes, succumbing to sicknesses, phobias, and other little weirds are able to form pacts with such powerful creatures

it’s a polarizing thought that he’s never challenged or sought to change. he understands them for what they are. arguably worse than demons, and he wants nothing to do with them. they are violent, weak, and fickle, and somehow—in the irony of it all—the universe plays a trick on him.

he lowered his defenses and foolishly got ahead of himself. he was unlike his brothers; he didn’t need love or companionship, and yet, of all the powerful beings and creatures, it’s a human that turned him into something unrecognizable.

it was faceless, sneaking up on him, and he was unable to remedy it as he slowly felt it consume him whole.

a bond was webbed between the two of you, and he’s certain, frighteningly so, that nothing could break it.

granted, that level of trust surely didn’t form overnight, as you proved to be quite troublesome. you were used to peeking your nose where it didn’t belong and going into places mortals should never be, making his job more difficult, but still, he trusts you.

with six younger demon brothers and a human to look after, discord became frequent. secrets wrapped tightly were easily unveiled just from your existence in devildom.

he kept a mental checklist of all your wrongdoings, and now your invasion of his heart was another.

his heart.

nothing but proof of his existence, only meant to pump blood and oxygen, has now expanded far too much to fit within his ribcage. it was suffocating.

it made room for a different kind of love, for someone else, and he didn’t think it was possible. he became spoiled by your affections.

he yearned so much for you that he was convinced that his carnage and sadism might have withered. at least, that's what he thought, only to realize it’s been tucked away in a cavity that you simultaneously filled.

he’s unfortunately reminded that it never really went anywhere. he’s respected and feared by all, and yet it wasn’t enough to deter his brothers from causing any mishaps, especially one in particular.

♡ . . ♡

it’s dinner when lucifer decides to strike.

chatter and the smell of only the best food in devildom fill the room. he almost feels bad for souring the joyful atmosphere—almost, but as always, there's an impending conflict that would render him irritable for the rest of the night.

he sits at the head of the table as the eldest brother and strongest demon, earning everyone's stare from the shift in the atmosphere. you and his brothers could sense that he wasn’t going to make a meager announcement. lucifer moves slowly, careful to prevent any of his heedless anger from slipping through.

he looks at everyone in the room, but his gaze lingers on you a bit longer.

“forgive me for interrupting dinner, but it’s come to my attention that someone here has stolen something valuable of mine.” his voice is deep, stern, and accusing. it echoes in the candle-lit hall.

“my credit card.”

maybe it's his sadistic streak, but he knew asking that question was ultimately trivial. he knows which of his brothers is guilty; you all did.

there’s only one demon dumb and desperate enough to steal from lucifer of all people, and while the perpetrator was obvious, it didn’t make anyone any less anxious.

the avatar of pride is infamous for his punishments, and no one wanted to be on the receiving end. when anything goes amiss, they must answer to him, and you were no exception to that rule.

you point your manicured finger at mammon, and his expression morphs into utter terror. he yelps at your tattling, already plotting at least three different ways to make his escape.

“oh my,” asmo laughs.

belphie yawns obnoxiously, unamused by the series of events. it was just another typical night in the house of lamentation; nothing should surprise anyone, and still, lucifer let a troubled sigh escape.

mammon throws a fit of indignation, as if his culpability wasn’t already obvious.

tossing his hands in the air, he whines, “damn it. why’d ya’ have to tell?” he slides down the seat of the chair, trying to avoid lucifer’s angered stare as much as possible.

you don’t think to reply, almost even rolling your eyes at him. everyone knows it’s him, and like the well-behaved girl you are, you figure it makes no sense to drag out the inevitable.

but when everyone’s eyes settle on you in curiosity, you slouch in your chair and blush at the sudden attention. you feel nervous, like you made a blunder of some sort.

they expectantly await your answer, but you don't have one.

“s-sorry, mammon,” you squeak out.

your hands in between your thighs and fidget under their stares.

you couldn’t, at least not confidently, admit that lucifer has you wrapped around his finger. he expects far too much of you, and you couldn’t possibly ruin that because of mammon, but that didn’t lessen the slight guilt from easing in.

“don’t apologize,” lucifer says, bolstering his voice—his attempt at scolding mammon while reassuring you.

“it’s not up to her to entertain your lies. perhaps if you weren’t always up to no good, she wouldn’t have to confess to your wrongdoings,” he lectures.

he sneers at him, and you watch as the younger demon slinks back further. “you’re the second oldest. act like it.”

mammon huffs.

“ahhh, lucifer, you’re no fun.”

admittedly, the brothers would get away with a lot more if it weren’t for your honesty.

make no mistake, they all love you dearly, but the troublemakers couldn’t tolerate your obedience when it comes to lucifer.

when he asked you who ate all the food satan prepared for breakfast the next day, you didn’t hesitate to say it was beel. when he asks you who wrote ‘lucifer sucks :p’ on his wall, you don’t stutter to inform him of satan’s and belphie’s not-so-secretive plan of his tormentation.

anything he wants, anything he asks, you obey. that was just the nature of your relationship.

after mammon realizes pouting won’t get him out of trouble with lucifer, he goes back to eating, and the others follow suit. soon the lively atmosphere returned, but you felt rather self-conscious.

you looked over at lucifer in the hope of finding something that you're weren't sure of yet, only to see that he was already staring at you. you nibble on your spoon, suddenly feeling bare from his lowered gaze.

there is a sense of security that you crave. his look of approval serves as a reminder of why you’re faithful to him. it was rewarding to know that your loyalty didn’t go unnoticed.

you look away quickly to hide your flusteredness by sipping on your tea, but the sweet taste of earl gray isn’t enough to distract you.

dinner begins to slow and wrap up. one by one, everyone bids their goodbyes. mammon is the first to depart, knowing he’d need as much of a head start as possible. when you finish the remainder of your dinner, you get up to leave as well.

you think about how to spend the rest of your evening, and your mind wanders to cramped thighs and ruined pillows.

you grow heated by the memory of previous nights. you touched yourself too many times to count after constantly witnessing lucifer’s disheveled state after his long day of reprimanding.

you stuffed your cunt with your fingers nightly, trying to mimic the feeling of something much larger. it was difficult to commit such acts quietly in a home full of creatures with nearly perfect hearing, and still, you wonder what fantasy will tether you tonight.

maybe the one when he fucks you in diavolo’s office, or your personal favorite, he punishes you.

you fantasize about him pulling up your dainty dress to put you over his lap and spank your plump ass until cum soaks your thighs, but tonight, you don’t have to conjure up anything.

lucifer stops you in the middle of your daydream. grabbing your wrist gently, he catches you by surprise.

you clumsily turn. frazzled eyes meet unwavering carmines. you’re almost certain he could hear the thump beating between your legs.

the prideful demon pulls you close, forcing your bodies to collide and connect like missing pieces. his breath is warm against your ear.

“would you like to come by my chambers later tonight?”

you look up to search his face, wondering if there’s even a sign of doubt. after countless days and nights and all sorts of muddled feelings between sheets, there is a part of you that can’t truly accept that he sought you.

one of the most eligible bachelors in all of devildom, known for his fearsomeness, is holding you like you were glass, asking for your company.

you soak in his expression, and it’s nothing less than firm and impenetrable, and it's then that you realize it was not a question. he was not asking.

struck with a whirlwind of desire from that revelation, you nod weakly, but the demon only shakes his head in response.

“words, my little human.”

your head tilts on its axis only for a moment. your chest had to be wide open, bearing your insides to him. the effect he had on you must have been that obvious. you’re a puddle.

was it normal to feel the static every time he was around, after every word he spoke?

you feel hazy, but also a small sense of relief that you no longer have to question if he still wants you. you’ve exhausted your fingers and toys, and finally, what you have been needlessly craving would be fulfilled in a room only a few doors down. his gaze flickers to your lips, and they shine with promise.

you mustered up all the courage you had left.

“yes, i would love to come by later.”

you’re amazed that it didn’t come out as wobbly as you anticipated. you’ve gotten better at pretending, you suppose.

lucifer gives you a sweet smile. he’s pleased with your answer, and butterflies erupt in your full belly.

his gloved hand then completely engulfs yours to bring it to his lips. not once breaking eye contact, he kisses your knuckle before he departs. a hopeless romantic.

he sets out to find mammon, and that gives you enough time to prepare.

you stalk up the stairs, declining levi’s invitation for a night of competitive gaming pitifully on the way. you’ll make it up to him next time.

by ushering yourself into your room, you act immediately. you don’t spend too long getting ready. a steaming, hot shower would suffice. you wash up with a bar of gentle soap, then follow through with too many to-count spritzes of perfume and faint-smelling lotion.

white with pastel pink trim.

your night clothes are simple and short enough to keep him on his toes. you look over at yourself in the mirror.

when did you become so daring ? you didn’t know. maybe asmo’s tips on charm and seduction were finally rubbing off on you. you wonder what his reaction would be if you told him you were using them on his brother. maybe he already knew.

you turn off your light and open your door. you peek down the hall.

it’s silent and empty, just as you predicted.

quietly, you shut the door, cursing to yourself when you hear the faint cry of the rusty hinges. your trek down to his room was anxiety-inducing, but in a good way. you feel refreshed, your body is more than ready, and you’re excited.

you hoped no one would drop by unexpectedly. beel would most likely wake up in the middle of the night for a snack, but the kitchen was in the opposite direction of lucifer’s room. not that it mattered anyway.

it wasn’t really a secret—not that those lasted with you around—but it would be. . . awkward. you’d much rather not have to deal with anyone overhearing all the naughty things you’ll beg him to do.

you stop your train of thought when you reach the end of the hallway. you’re in front of his door, and you sway from your heels to your tippy toes. the fluttery ache in your chest was making you skittish.

you take a breath to compose yourself, and then you knock with three light taps.

“come in”

it takes a good chunk of your strength to open his heavy door, but you appreciate the time it grants you. it gives you the space to calm yourself down and ease your prickly nerves.

when you enter, you let your eyes wander around the room first. nothing but books, old records, and silhouettes of things you couldn’t make out in the dark. you walk in and find him leaning against his unusually messy desk.

there's soft light from the lamp that hugs his frame and illuminates his coat discarded on the nearby dresser.

he fiddles with the strap of his gloves, giving you a small smile at the sight of your presence.

“you don’t have to knock, my love.”

he allows his gaze to explore, drinking in the outfit you picked out specifically for him. already, his trousers are suffocating and distracting him, but he’s quick to recover.

you bite your lip out of habit under his lustful stare.

“i know, but i wanted to just in case you were busy . . .”

there’s an amused huff.

his long legs carry him over to where you stand swiftly. his thumbs caress the apples of your cheeks, and he presses a kiss against your forehead.

“sweet girl.” and the way it skirts the edge of sensuality could make you melt. “even if i am, feel free to steal me away,” he whispers.

you swallow down a moan at the thought. maybe one day he'll eat those words.

his hand trails from your face to the nape of your neck and pauses.

“you washed your hair,” he observes.

you shake your head.

“it got a little wet in the shower so I’m just letting it air dry for a bit, luci.”

you pull at a wet strand and watch it dutifully bounce back in place. “ i was too lazy to dry it.“

he watches the notion with careful eyes. you wanted to giggle at how serious he looked.

“i wish you would’ve asked me to help you. i don’t want you getting a cold.”

you smile at his sincerity. you realized very early on that lucifer enjoyed tending to you. he likes consistency and being depended on.

‘it’s for your own well-being,’ he says, but you think he likes to have a pretty girl to fuss over

you offer him a small pout. “i did think about it, but i assumed you were still scolding mammon. i didn’t want to bother you.”

“besides.” you turn away, “i don’t think he wants to see me right now”

already, you’re embarrassed by the thought of facing mammon again. flustered, you recall tonight’s dinner and the look on their faces. you are definitely going to avoid them at school tomorrow.

you slouch, "he totally hates me.”

you say it half-heartedly, but lucifer looks at you with seriousness.

he softly grabs you by your chin. “don’t speak like that. he doesn’t hate you—none of us do, and i’m not sure we are capable of harboring such thoughts.”

you smile. “i dunno. i’m pretty sure you guys hated my guts when i first came.” you chuckle, thinking he’d at least join in, but he frowns. his heavy hand strokes the top of your head in an affectionate rhythm.

“we had our differences, and i was far too harsh. that i know.”

there’s a faraway look in his eye, and you know there’s a silent storm forming. you reach out to cup his cheek, and he melts into your touch.

“i never hated you,” he says.

you knew that your actions played a part in straining the early stages of your relationship. you also had to come to terms that not only lucifer, but multiple brothers harbored resentment towards humans,

its not a perfect story, but everything about this was completely unconventional. you’re just a woman who somehow found herself stuck in an attempt at other-worldly diplomacy, now sandwiched between the trying relationships of seven powerful demons.

things are rocky, but it’s the happiest you’ve ever been.

“i was only teasing, luci. i'm not mad or scared anymore.”

the hand you rested on his cheeks gets gripped by his larger ones, and he kisses your palm fondly.

“besides, i think we both know i wasn’t completely innocent.”

he takes a deep inhale.

“still, i think about how things were before.” he recalls the past in disdain; he blames his pride and then himself.

“my brothers and i . . . we are devoted to you, and we have the pacts to prove it.”

it’s a provocation you’re still not entirely used to. you had 7 demons who offered themselves to you, and the proof is imprinted on their skin.

in the human world, you’re everything and nothing at the same time. feelings of loneliness and insecurity that are far too loud and are still not enough to matter. you realized everyone lived selfishly, and your heart wasn’t hardened enough to follow suit.

lucifer's thoughts about humans didn’t change, despite his proximity to you. talks of your life as a young girl only cemented his thinking.

you were far too perfect for humans, too devious for angels, and too innocent for demons.

you were an entity on your own, and scarily he worshiped you. all of you.

he’d never tire of sinking his cock into your wet cunt, filling you with his seed, and hearing those saccharine moans that fall from glossed lips. he was ravenous, but you truly didn’t know the extent of it.

“my brothers care for you deeply, as do i, but you must know.” his eyes seem darker and much more predatory, and you can’t bring yourself to look away. like a bunny trapped in a hunter's cage, your doe eyes double in size and tremors rattle through your frame.

“you’re mine alone. your mind and body belong to only me.”

lucifer is well aware that six other cocks competed for your attention. a crass choice of words, but nothing less than true. they vied for the human girl, with nearly everyone wrapped around her dainty fingers. you are a color in the world shrouded in sisyphean darkness.

his lips part on your skin. “they can touch and taste you because i allow it.”

rough hands pull up your skirt, and he grabs a handful of your ass. “this . . . this is all mine.”

you make sure to turn and give your butt a little wiggle. it's more than a sultry gesture, and lucifer thinks a human so docile posing erotically might be the one thing to kill him.

how do you make soiled underwear look so pretty and enticing? there’s a possessive streak, a soft darkness that opens its curtains upon your presence. it peers over his shoulder, urging him to devour you. to pick at your remains until he’s consumed you.

“you're beautiful,” he groans. he inches close to you, and you think your lips are going to meet halfway, but he kisses your forehead.

then, your eyelids, your nose, and the side of your mouth, you look at him with half-lidded eyes, and he doesn’t budge when you try to squirm.

lucifer steps back and leads you to his chair. he settles into the squeaky leather until his back is comfortably cushioned.

he pats his firm lap.

“come.”

you know he’s holding back. his muscles ripple beneath you, he slouches farther into his chair, his legs spread to give his groin space to freely twitch against the slackness of his pants, and it only invites you

you struggle to decide where to sit. his knee or over his lap, both very promising positions, but he decides for you. he pulls your hip so your cunt is nestled right up against his cock. you sigh breathily, already your brain turning to mush.

“i didn’t even touch you, and you’re already making such a mess, sweet girl.”

the angle you tilt your head hides your expression, but from the flutter of your lashes and the purses of your lips, he knows you’ve grown shy.

"you kissed me,”

your sweet tone and your faint aroma of honeysuckle and jasmine make his cock stir.

“is that why you’re so worked up? just from my kiss?”

not even on the lips—not yet at least, and you’ve already wetted the fabric with your sticky arousal.

“what will happen when daddy touches right here?”

it’s a feathery graze against your protruding bud. his knuckles nudge the seat of the moist cotton, right where the white turned nearly transparent against your swollen cunt.

“it aches, doesn’t it?”

slender fingers slip under the band teasingly. he studies the subtle twitch of your hole, pumping a stream of glossy slick.

“do you want me to make it go away, hm? do you want daddy to make it better?”

you nod, a broken moan falling from your trembling lips.

“ i wantmore daddy.”

you spread your legs wider, hoping he’d be more generous with his caress.

“soon, my love.”

his hands trail from your pants to your stomach to your shoulders.

his hands rub your stomach and under your breast, settling right on your hip. you know he is hyper-aware of the thin fabric separating his cock from your heat.

even in his lap, he’s taller than you, but only by a few inches. his eyes are low and hazy.

“i wish to take my time with you.”

his thumb trails over your nipple.

“you have no idea how much i missed you.”

his other fingers pull at the other nipple.

you’ve felt those same digits on your neck, in your mouth, curled around your wrist and threaded between your fingers, and now between your thighs

he begins to grope at your exposed flesh. he admires how supple they appear, and he has to restrain himself from sinking his teeth into them.

your body never falters, and it responds so well to his hot and addicting touch. lucifer tries not to tease you; after all, he is rewarding you, but the little sounds and pants that leave your lips almost make him rethink.

your skirt is wrinkled, and he flips it at your hip, and your entire bottom half is almost fully exposed. your bare legs are on display, and so is your clothed mound. he mumbles sweet praises into the side of your breast while tracing the outline of your pussy through your pants with his finger.

you pull him away from your chest to kiss him, and lucifer has to remember that you’re human. that your small and pouty mouth, which struggles to swallow, is as fragile as the rest of you. palms splayed about on your back remind him he can mold you.

his hands are in a constant of motion, tugging and squeezing at your flesh. it feels like he’s in awe of every part of your body no matter how it differs from his. his touches are messy and yet controlled. they search you in subtle restraint, fearful that they’ll hurt you.

you’ve never been touched this way. to have someone want you so desperately— to possess you almost. his hands are burning you and you feel on top of the world.

you moan at his caress and feel heat rush through your body. if it weren’t for the lack of air in his lungs, he’d never pull away but eventually he does. lucifer experimentally probes your clit and looks up at your face to admire your expression.

“do you like that?” he whispers. you bite your lip, and your voice raises in pitch, “mhm.”

lucifer smirks to himself and kisses your nipple. “what did i say about words, little one?”

he stops his ministrations on your cunt and licks at your areola teasingly. he settles the tip of his tongue on your heated bud, flicking it, sending a shiver down your spine.

“is my good girl acting up?.”

“n-no, daddy, never.”

between each breath, he plants open-mouthed kisses across your chest.

“i hope so. i would hate to have to punish you.”

he sucks diligently and roughly. his tongue aggressively strokes your nipple, addicted to how it feels in his mouth. he closes his eyes and continues his assault on your chest.

your soft cries filled his room, and the feeling of your teat on the surface of his wet muscles pleased him. the aforementioned headache was long gone because the plushness of your body took over his mind and soul.

you may feel an indescribable urge to obey him, but he's just as much under your spell as you’re under his. he’s the embodiment of pride, but he’s not against admitting that you invade every inch of him. you don’t know it yet, but anything you ask of him, he will deliver. he wonders if you could hear his heart thrumming against his chest.

you’re naked, but he feels equally as exposed.

he continues sucking on one breast, his other hand busied itself, rubbing the neglected one. you arch into his touch, your tit spilling out of his hand. the weight of it feels secure in his large palm.

the stimulation has you unruly within his embrace. one minute, your hips are still from his flicks at your pussy, and then it jerks up, wanting more from his skilled and wandering hands.

lucifer likes this side of you, desperate and unashamed of how you wanted him to use your body.

you’re so sensitive that any subtle movement sends pressure to your clit. every time you whimper, especially loudly, he's quick to praise you.

“such lovely noises. i bet you’d do anything to please me, hm?” he hums.

you remember his earlier warning eager to be on your best behavior. “yes, daddy.”

it was hard to verbalize but you were at his mercy. anything for his approval, anything for his praise, you’d do it, especially if it meant you’d get rewarded like this.

he then pulls up your soaked panties, and you gasp at the sudden gesture. they stretch across the surface of your wet pussy, and they snap from his brute strength. the break in the fabric spanking your cunt.

“what a pretty thing.”

he tosses your ripped panties to the floor, ruining your perfect set. but he’d buy you another.

“i just want to be your good girl,” you say, rubbing your legs together in anticipation.

“you’re always my good girl. isn’t that right?”

you nod and feel happiness bloom.

“the best girl for daddy,” lucifer sensually encourages.

at this rate, you’re dizzy and drunk on his intoxicating words and erotic touch. you’re babbling, and lucifer finds it endearing.

you whine when he finally takes his gloved finger and rubs slow and tight circles on your slippery bud. “dada—.” you cry especially loud.

“i know, i know,” he shushes.

you felt relief consume you at the friction of his gloves on your trembling cunny. he continues to rub and fiddle with it until you’re forced to bury your mewls into the crook of his neck.

he takes another finger and presses down on your twitchy button, and you flinch at the sudden burst of pleasure.

he knows your body like the back of his hand, and he knows how to make you fall apart. his finger continues to work on your sensitive nub, and you gradually begin to soak his lap with your arousal.

he drags his fingers over your labia and grazes over your desperate hole.

within a few strokes, he plunges two fingers into your heat. he watches you push your tits into his face from the pleasure that forces the arch in your back. and he takes a deep inhale. your pussy greedily latches onto his fingers, and you’re practically fucking his hand.

“you look so delicious in my lap. such a beautiful sight, and it's reserved for only me.”

the depth of his voice sends shudders through your body

he loved how his fingers slid right in. it felt like your pussy was made to take what he gave you. his big fingers fervently stroke your insides, and your legs shake.

just watching your tiny hole stretch to the width of his fingers threatened his self-control. he wanted to fill you with something much bigger, and he’d know you would take it because you're his precious girl.

he wants to see your cunt wrapped around his heavy cock, but he’d settle for now.

just seeing you so pliant in his arms from his tongue lapping at your breast and his large fingers was enough for him.

you drip all over his wrist, and it darkens his gloves.

lucifer’s fingers rub every soft ridge, and your cunt is more than happy for it. the wetness, the squelch, the tightness—it’s overwhelming for you. you feel as if you’re finally unraveling.

"i'm going to cum, daddy. please." you don’t know what you're begging for, but whatever he was willing to do, you needed it now.

lucifer knows you’re close—very close. you’ve nearly gone stiff, and you’re shaking against him. your toes are curled, and your first is clutched.

“oh, is this princess’ pussy going to make a mess?” he coaxes. you open your mouth, moaning, and lucifer leans down. your foreheads are touching, and you unabashedly mewl, your minty breath fanning his face. “is she going to cream for me?”

you feel your orgasm sneaking up on you. lucifer only increases the pace of his fingers thrusting in and out of your cunny. he becomes more brutal, only wanting you to be within his arms as his only goal.

he’s so close to you that your lashes touch his skin. sweat simmers on your chest, and he sucks on your now bruised bottom lip from all your biting.

with two fingers still buried inside you, stroking your walls, he presses his thumb to your clit once more.

“that’s it, it’s pretty girl.”

you felt it coming; you had ample time, and you tried to keep yourself contained, but the force was still too unbearable. you had no idea how much he was holding back.

“i’m so much bigger than you. so much stronger, and you’re so little, princess.” he chuckles in a state of disbelief.

“and you’re not even scared.”

“you’re too trusting, but i suppose that’s why i love you so much. daddy’s brave little girl.”

like a lick of lightning, lucifer feels his desire threaten to snap. his human—his sweet mess full of little weirds, kind eyes, and a soft mouth was going to make him lose himself. he's growling like a beast with every chant of his name.

“daddydaddydaddy —hiccup— love you lots, b-but. i-i can’t think anymore. can’t take it.”

drool collects on the side of your mouth.

“i know it’s a lot for you right now, but you’re doing so well, princess.”

he re-adjusts your body on his lap. “just think about daddy and his fingers.”

the appendages stretching your cunt pull out briefly.

“look at that precious pussy.”

he spreads your labia watching the uneasy throb of your hole that begged to be stuffed.

lucifer wants to mount you, but he remembers what he is when he can smell the blood pumping through veins and the feeling of your heartbeat under the tips of his fingers.

he needs to treat you like a prized dolly to dress up, to kiss, and to fuck.

you don’t need to think; he knows what’s best, and he wants to keep you on a shelf for his own use.

you made him a beast, luring him into darkness, but he was never good at hiding. he felt like he was defiling you. you were truly an entity different from anything he’s ever known. sweet as brown sugar, and he’s tainting you.

still, the thrust of his arms grows stronger. nothing but the milky, wet sounds of your drenched cunt

“your little pussy is crying. you can let go for me.”

your hearts swell with another wave of heat. the sweet babbles of you wanting to reciprocate his love die on your tongue when your body stills. you toss your head back with a pretty wail nearing your crescendo. noisily, his fingers pump your pussy with trickles of wetness spurting out.

your hips jolt forward and erratically hump the heel of his palm, hoping to reach your end much sooner.

“m right there, —!”

he's going to make you cum hard. everything from the sound of his voice to his rough fingers to the shape of his cock could make you cream. his skill never fails you, always leaving you nearly boneless. you’re always going to come crawling back for more, without a doubt.

lucifer feels your walls pulsate around him, warning him of your impending orgasm, and it strokes his ego.

“daddyyyy,” you pant deliriously. his thumb drags at your clit repeatedly and with the sensation of your insides being drained, you sob. you’re too loud, but you can't remain silent any longer.

lucifer kisses your forehead to soothe you, and with a slight pinch of your throbbing cunt, you erupt in the middle of his embrace. the dam finally breaks, and your pussy convulses angrily like it's trying to push his fingers out.

“thaaaaat’s it, baby. daddy is so proud of you.”

he increases his pace, draining you of all the cum your cunny could pump out. until your knees buckle around his wrists.

your chest expands, desperate for more air. your head is fogging up, and you’re exhausted. your limbs are strewn across the demon, lacking complete strength.

lucifer lets you cool off from your high, and he slips his fingers out of you. without hesitation, he buries them into his mouth. the taste of you fills his taste buds to utter satisfaction. you're delicious, sweet and sour, and addicting. he would inject the very essence of you into his veins if he could. but maybe he's already hooked on you; that would explain his racing mind filled with thoughts of only you.

this demon that he’s become terrifies him, but he doesn't want to change. his family and his precious human are all he needs.

he wraps you up in his arms and hugs you. your back is now pressed into his chest, eyes closed blissfully. lucifer tucks your head under his chin, and you rest safely in his hold.

he silently admires the number he did on your body and feels the familiar feeling of pride bursts within him. he looks at your beautiful face, your puffy nipples, and used pussy and he feels gratified fulfillment engulf him.

“perfect human,” he mumbles.

he graces you with another kiss on your heated skin.

“my obedient little girl.”

#૮꒰ ๑´ତ `๑ ꒱ྀིა #lucifer x reader #lucifer x reader smut #obey me lucifer #omswd lucifer #obey me smut #obey me x reader #obey me x reader smut #lucifer x you #lucifer x y/n #lucifer x female reader #female reader #divider from @cafekitsune

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wisesoultarot · 7 days ago

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Why will your future spouse choose you?

Instagram | Want to tip me for my work? | For personal reading

💜Image 1

There exists a profound connection that transcends this lifetime, compelling them to choose you. This individual has traversed a landscape of relationships marked by numerous obstacles and disappointments, often grappling with the challenge of finding someone who embodies the feminine energy that harmonizes seamlessly with their own masculine essence. Each encounter has left them yearning for a deeper connection, a bond that goes beyond the superficial exchanges that often characterize modern relationships.

Upon meeting you, they will sense an immediate and undeniable bond that surpasses mere surface-level attraction. It will be as if the universe conspired to bring you together, and in that moment, they will recognize that you resonate with them on a much deeper plane. This recognition will be instinctual, a feeling that transcends words and logic, as if you both share a history that stretches far beyond the confines of this lifetime.

When they encounter you, it will be as if a missing piece has finally fallen into place, completing a puzzle they didn’t even know was incomplete. Your presence will evoke feelings of understanding and acceptance that they have long sought but never truly experienced. In your company, they will feel a sense of ease and comfort, as if they can finally let down their guard and reveal their true selves without fear of judgment or rejection. This connection will feel authentic and transformative, allowing them to embrace their true selves in a way they never thought possible, shedding the layers of pretense that they had worn for so long.

Most significantly, they will experience love in a way that feels entirely new, as if they are finally being seen and cherished for who they are at their core. This love will not be conditional or transactional; instead, it will be a pure expression of mutual respect and admiration. The profound sense of belonging and emotional safety that you provide will solidify their choice in you, as they come to realize that you are the partner they have been searching for all along. In your eyes, they will see a reflection of their own soul, and in your heart, they will find a sanctuary where they can truly be themselves.

Together, you will embark on a journey of growth and discovery, exploring the depths of your connection and nurturing the bond that has been forged between you. This relationship will not only enrich your lives but will also serve as a catalyst for healing and transformation, allowing both of you to flourish in ways you never imagined. As you navigate the complexities of life together, you will find strength in each other, creating a partnership that is both empowering and deeply fulfilling.

💜Image 2

This individual has navigated a romantic life that can best be described as rather uneventful, primarily due to the multitude of obligations they have had to shoulder for their family and household. These responsibilities, which range from daily chores to long-term commitments, have significantly impacted their ability to engage in a fulfilling romantic relationship. The weight of these duties has often left little room for personal connections, leading to a sense of longing for companionship that remains unfulfilled. As a result, they yearn for a partner who is not only willing but eager to share the load equally. They envision a relationship where the burden of responsibilities does not rest solely on one person, allowing both partners to thrive and enjoy their time together without the constant stress of unmet obligations.

In their quest for love, they seek a relationship characterized by fairness and mutual contribution, where both partners actively participate in the dynamics of their shared life. This desire for balance is rooted in a profound understanding of the challenges that arise from juggling various responsibilities, whether they be professional, familial, or personal. They hope to find someone who not only acknowledges but also values the importance of teamwork in a partnership. Such a connection would alleviate the pressure that has weighed heavily on them in the past, fostering an environment where both individuals can support each other and grow together. They dream of a partnership where responsibilities are shared, allowing for a more enjoyable and fulfilling connection that enhances both their lives.

It is highly likely that this person will deeply appreciate your own sense of responsibility and dedication. They will recognize in you a kindred spirit who understands the effort and commitment required to navigate the complexities of life. This mutual understanding could serve as a strong foundation for a more harmonious and supportive relationship. In such a partnership, both individuals would feel valued and empowered, knowing that they are working together towards common goals. The appreciation for each other's contributions would foster a sense of camaraderie and respect, creating a nurturing environment where both partners can flourish. Ultimately, this shared commitment to responsibility and partnership could lead to a fulfilling and lasting connection, one that transcends the challenges of the past and embraces the joys of a shared future.

💜Image 3

This individual embodies the essence of an artist, a dreamer, and a lover of beauty. Their creativity flows effortlessly, like a river of inspiration that knows no bounds. Each day is a canvas, and they approach life with the brush of imagination, painting vivid scenes that reflect their innermost thoughts and feelings. When love strikes, it becomes a catalyst for their artistic expression, often leading them to weave poetic verses that resonate with the depths of their emotions. These words, rich with passion and longing, serve as a testament to their ability to capture the ephemeral nature of love and beauty in a way that is both profound and moving.

With a vivid imagination that knows no limits, they possess the remarkable ability to manifest their desires into reality. Their mind is a kaleidoscope of colors, ideas, and dreams, each one more vibrant than the last. When you finally step into their world, it will leave them utterly astonished, as if you have unlocked a door to a realm they had only dared to dream of. Your presence will be like a breath of fresh air, invigorating and transformative, stirring the very core of their being.

Your arrival will stir a whirlwind of feelings and thoughts that have long been nestled in their mind, dormant yet yearning for expression. As a true connoisseur of beauty, they will be captivated not only by your appearance, which radiates a unique charm, but also by the profound connection they feel with you. It’s as if every brushstroke of their imagination has come to life, and this realization will sweep them off their feet, leaving them breathless in the wake of your enchanting presence.

In that moment, they will recognize that the vision they have cherished for years has materialized before them, a living embodiment of their dreams and aspirations. This enchanting encounter will ignite a spark of love that flickers brightly, compelling them to choose you as the muse they have always yearned for. The blend of admiration and affection will create a bond that feels both magical and destined, as if the universe conspired to bring you together.

Together, you will embark on a journey filled with creativity and passion, where every shared moment becomes a brushstroke on the canvas of your lives. The connection you forge will inspire them to delve deeper into their artistry, as they find new ways to express the beauty of your relationship. In your presence, they will discover a wellspring of inspiration, and their heart will sing with the melodies of love, forever grateful for the serendipity that led you to one another.

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pearlymel · 3 months ago

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A Dragon and his Muse— Neuvillette

SUMMERY : As days turn to weeks, a wordless routine develops. You arrive, set up your workplace, then you lose yourself in your art. Neuvillette takes his usual seat, sometimes pretending to work but secretly admires at your creations.

WC : 8.5k

WARNINGS : Neuvillette x afab!reader, reader is a painter, fluff, smut, crack, a sprinkle of angst, love at first sight (?), inexperienced Neuvi, NSFW mating press, unprotected sex, fingering, premature ejaculation.

NOTES : this is one of my favourite piece out of everything I've written, probably because neuvi is my main and he's very sweet <3. I wish it was more slowburn but i suck at thoseI hope you enjoy reading it as much as i loved writing it.

His office is too quiet. His mind is too loud. Too messy.

Everything seemed just not in place, it was the constant overwork and less appreciation, not that he’s really complaining. But it was taking a toll on his energy nowadays.

Constantly for 400 years.

A thud on the glassy window wasn’t enough to grab his attention, but once the noise continued, he finally turned his attention away from the papers

Ah, it was a bird. Knocking on the window using it’s beak.

oh dear, it’s friend joined, but rather than knocking on the window, it flew straight into the glass and fell down.

Neuvillette stood up slowly from his stiff cushioned chair, walking towards the large window, his footsteps echoing softly in the quiet room.

Upon reaching the window, he gazed contemplatively down, lost in thought, his gaze was drawn once more to the two birds. The first bird, still pecking at the glass with a persistent curiosity, seemed undeterred by its previous failure to gain entry. The second bird, now recovered from its fall, fluttered its wings and joined its companion, pecking at the window with renewed vigor. There was something almost endearing about their determination, a small yet poignant reminder of persistence and companionship.

He reached out to open the window, so they can fly away. This place isn’t suitable for them after all.

His eyes fell to a certain melusine, unmoving. Just like a statue.

And there you where, someone he didn’t recognize, he noticed how your hands were covered in all sorts of paints and stains. Your hair had random streaks here and there, and the look on your face… you were enjoying yourself, despite looking a bit serious.

Hm, he tilted his head and continued to watch you paint the melusine, it was a bit relaxing to say the least, though he couldn’t help but observe your features more and the way you dressed up.

You definitely weren’t from Fontaine.

Perhaps… a tourist? He thought then leaned against the edge of the window, crossing his arms.

He was too lost in thought that he didn’t notice the paint on your fingers that are now on your face. A smudge of dark blue paint right under your eye.

The dear melusine abruptly stood up from the wooden stool chair, and it’s like she was able to read Neuvillette’s thoughts, she gestured you to bend down so she could wipe the stain off your under eye.

You both laugh, a sound that seemed to break the tranquility of the room in the most gentle way, although not quite audible from above, it was calming to hear such noise. Neuvillette observed this interaction with a faint smile, feeling a strange sense of warmth in his chest. It had been a long time since something so simple had brought such a calm feeling to his chaotic mind.

This is embarrassing…

With a shake of his head, he took one last glance down then returned back to work, where he unfortunately belonged.

—

he doesn’t even know why he’s standing by the window again, it’s been days since he admired, observed you painting.

One day it would be the nature, the next another melusine, then a random couple or a best friends.

But you weren’t there today like he expected you to be, it’s has only been a week since he was watching you, did you already leave Fontaine?

He sighed, he knew it wouldn’t be forever to watch some random stranger have fun with the colors, but he was a tad bit disappointed to find you gone so soon.

And now be finds himself in lyney and lynette’s magic show, sitting with the crowd on the front row, hands resting politely on his lap while he waited for the preparations and people to join in.

“I’m so sorry,” he hears a voice from behind him, followed by a gentle thud, the person most likely apologizing for bumping into somebody, he doesn’t pay much mind to it to turn around.

This person walks through the narrow row, carefully stepping past other seated passengers, muttering quiet ‘excuse me’s’ with each step. They finally reach his row and, with a polite nod, maneuver past him, their bag brushing lightly against his arm. After what feels like an eternity, they let out a long sigh of relief as they settle into the seat next to him, adjusting their belongings and making themselves comfortable.

Today is crowded, he thought, glancing around the packed space.

He blinked in surprise when there were fire poles starting at the stage, everyone clapping and gasping in excitement. A laugh emitting from next to him, followed by the rapid claps of their hands.

The laughter rings in his ears, it was almost familiar, listening to it in the air… relaxing as the colors splash—

Oh,

Oh.

Neuvillette is too afraid to even look to confirm it was you, sitting next to him all along. He was frozen in place, gloved hands gently clenching on his thighs as he kept his eyes glued to the stage.

Wait, why would he even be nervous? Maybe it was odd because he kind of knows you in a sense, but you don’t.

He finally got the courage to glance at your way, trying to be as discreet as possible. And there you were, the same paint-stained fingers now clutching your bag, probably full of brushes, eyes wide with wonder at the magic unfolding on stage. You turned slightly, catching his gaze for a brief moment, and he felt like he was caught in his act, both of you awkwardly staring at each other for a good five seconds before you awkwardly speak.

“It’s like a cinema,” you utter out to him, and he’s bewildered. A… cinema?

You both then awkwardly adjust back to your seats, continuing to watch the magic unfold like nothing ever happened.

Maybe he should’ve said something instead of leaving you hanging like that.

At the end of the magnificent show, the crowd claps in sync, and Neuvillette notices how your eyes shined in awe at the twins bowing down.

“Your first time?” Neuvillette decides to speak this team with a lot of thinking through.

“yes.” You nod, “I've never seen something like this…”

And he hums, observing how you were excited over this little thing he sees occasionally. Was it that rare?

“I feel like it is rude to be speaking to you without letting you know of my name,” he clears his throat, “I am Neuvillette.”

Such a unique name, you think. “I'm…” you say your name out firmly, “I'm a painter or an artist.”

“i know.”

You raise both of your eyebrows in shock, have you gotten famous already?

Upon seeing your expression, Neuvillette's eyes widen slightly in horror, it now sounds like he was some sort of stalker watching your every movement.

“What i meant is that.. that I've seen you paint.” he clarifies quickly, keeping his voice smooth and composed.

Seems like you've really earned yourself a medal.

“It's nice meeting you, Neuvillette. But i have to go…” plus you suck at small talks, so this was a good excuse.

“right, my apologies. Be careful on your way out.”

Neuvillette feels… odd, to say the least as he watches you leave in a hurry with your bag slinging over your shoulder.

You seem interesting, like a new breath of fresh air, and he wanted to know more about you. Anything to talk to you more to ease the unfamiliar fuzzy feeling in his chest.

Alas, he doesn't have time to make new friends, he'll only have to hope to bump into you next time.

—

Another broken quill.

Neuvillette watches as the ink runs down on the paper, completely ruining it, and he sighs to himself.

The weather is awful today, the rain just continues to pour down because of today's trial. What even is justice anymore?

He pushes himself out of his chair, maybe watching you paint will ease the amount of work—

But all he's met with is the harsh rain, remembering that obviously you wouldn't paint in such weather.

I ruined their day, Neuvillette thinks. And it only causes another frown to appear on his face, although the frown leaves as quickly as it came when he narrowed his eyes outside the window, watching a figure sitting under the building, seemingly waiting for the rain to pass.

Upon the realization it was you, Neuvillette doesn't hesitate for a moment. Without a second thought, he leaves his office with quick movement, the rain is still falling heavily, but he doesn't care. All that matters to him is reaching you.

There you were, sitting unbothered right outside, your legs stretched on the concrete with a notebook on your lap.

“You…” it was the first thing he managed to utter, and yet it was enough to catch your attention. “Oh, it's you.” You smile at him, standing up while dusting the dirt off you.

He should've told you to stay seated, to not bother you.

“I'm sorry about our last encounter, i didn't know you were the Chief Justice of Fontaine.” You quickly say out, your hands behind your back and your head lowered.

“No apology is needed.” He tries to reassure you, “I am more concerned about your well being. The weather is inconvenient for your art.” And the slightest frown appears on his face again, but you surprisingly don't seem as sad as he was. “When the sun comes and the rain stops, the prettiest rainbow and sight touches the sky. And it's worth waiting for—besides, I'm not bothered by it at all.”

Neuvillette only stares down at you when silence follows after, he feels reassured back that the rain, caused by his emotions, didn't make you upset.

And you notice, the way his shoulders seem to relax, his eyelids no longer weary, showing the slightest softness to it, and the downward curl of his lips disappearing in a matter of seconds.

The rain.

“Oh,” you watch as the rain starts to slowly stop, leaving only a few patters and drops of the earthy scent lingering in the air. “The rain stopped.” You seem more cheerful, he noted. You sat back down on the concrete, watching the sky brighten once again.

It's been a while since Neuvillette had seen something so simple and pure. And he would like to join you this time as you talk about your love for colours.

“I'm not sure if it's appropriate to ask someone like the Iudex to sit with me,”

“… i would love to join you. But please, just address me by my name.”

—

Today's sight was different, it was more colourful, more cheerful, was he the only one who was cooped up in his office while missing out the fun?

Neuvillette looks around, left and right, there are melusine's with colours and drawings adoring their faces, adding a bit or—more personality to each Melusine.

Even children and adults.

"Good morning, Sedene," he talks to the melusine right outside the door of his office, his eyes lingering on the butterfly painted on her cheek.

"May I ask what the face paints are for?" he inquires, his curiosity piqued by the unusual sight. “It's from the artist, Monsieur. One person asked for their face painted, so everyone wanted one.” She responds instantly, pointing at the drawing on her cheek. Neuvillette's eyebrows raise in surprise at Sedene's revelation. It seems your artistic skills continues leaving a lasting impression on everyone.

A small smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as he processes this piece of information. "I see," he murmurs, his curiosity only growing stronger. "And where might they be at?”

Sedene hums, turning around to point outside, “they should be right outside.” his gaze flicks to the entrance. So you're nearby, and he can't deny the flutter of anticipation he feels at the thought of seeing you again.

He clears his throat, "thank you, Sedene," he says before nodding in farewell and making his way towards the entrance.

There you are. Giggling while talking to each one in a soft matter, and the Iudex can't help but be mesmerized by the way you work, the concentration and care you pour into every brushstroke.

The sight of you amidst the children and melusines, their faces adorned with vibrant colors, is both heartwarming and intriguing.

“Monsieur!” Neuvillette visibly freezes when you call out for him, and he glances at you, your hand waving for him in the air.

He must've been too occupied admiring your work.

His legs seem to lead the way towards you on command, watching how your smile only brightened, “take a break, want me to paint your face? Or maybe your hand?” You ask, gesturing him to sit on the stool infront of you, and the others giggle.

“i suppose I can't say no…” he replies softly, taking the glove off his left hand to stretch out for you.

“and what symbol would you like?”

“a water droplet, perhaps?”

You begin almost right away, taking some blue and white paint, blue for the colour of the droplet, and white for the shiny details.

Your hand envelopes around his, and while it's a normal gesture, it doesn't stop Neuvillette to make him have weird feelings stirring in him, how your fingers brush against his skin, he notices that. Or when you squeeze his hand unintentionally to focus perfecting the shape, he also feels that.

“you have nice hands, Neuvillette.” You whisper while now adding some white highlights, and this time, he squeezes your hand unintentionally. “Thank you.” He manages to say something back to your compliment.

Just a normal compliment, nothing to overthinking about.

“All done.” The warmth of your hand leaves his, and he raises his hand infront of him to look over at the final finish.

A symbol that represents his love for water, he couldn't be more satisfied with it.

“I will see you next time.” You wave once again at him before tending to your other ‘clients’.

Next time, it's like you're also wishing to see him again.

That day, Neuvillette tried not to wash off the symbol on his hand, wanting to keep it on for as long as possible.

And now, here you both are again, about the next day.

Neuvillette listens intently as you talk to him over a cup of tea, his eyes fixed on your face as he absorbs the details of your story. The mention of your journey from one nation to another makes him sit up a bit straighter, his curiosity piqued.

"Indeed, that sounds like quite the long and eventful journey," he muses out loud, "But to uproot your life and come a lomg way here, it's quite a bold move.”

You take a long sip from your tea cup, “how so?”

"Well," he begins, "it takes a certain amount of courage and determination to leave everything behind and embark on such a journey. It's a significant change and a leap into the unknown, which most people tend to shy away from.”

To be fair, it was your first time travelling out of your nation, you never intended to visit Fontaine first, but you heard about the lovely views this nation has.

"I understand, for me... I just needed to see the other nation's aesthetic and culture. So I won't be staying here forever."

Won't stay. That's all Neuvillette heard that came out from you, "Ah," he whispers, his voice stiff, "I see. So you don't plan on staying in Fontaine permanently, then?”

You shake your head, "Oh no, i plan to stay for a certain time before visiting another nation... Maybe sumeru next.." you continue talking, not noticing how stiff the Iudex has gotten, mindlessly speaking and spouting about your next travel. Each word out of your mouth about your future travels and eventual departure from Fontaine causes a hint of disappointment to grow in Neuvillette's chest. He listens in silence, his expression growing more sullen with each passing moment.

He had grown accustomed to your presence, enjoying your cheerful banter and easy conversation. The realization that you don't plan on staying in Fontaine for good is a bitter pill to swallow.

—

“Monsieur, you have a gift.”

Neuvillette remembers Sedene delivering a vase filled with white flowers earlier, she says it's a gift from you.

And until now, hes continues glancing at the vase sitting on his desk while he handles some papers. The question was, what was your intention behind this beautiful gift? Or was he perhaps overthinking the whole situation? Maybe you just gave it because it has art or some meaning behind it… sure, he could think of that.

But he wants to think that you gave it because of something more, because your heart raced everytime you both talked, or how his whole mood would change when he hears you laugh as he makes a silly joke to try and be light-hearted.

Poor Neuvillette, he doesn't understand these feelings that he felt for you, he thinks he's being a creep with you.

What if you weren't comfortable in his presence? He doesn't know, he wants to understand, understand these human emotions he was feeling deep in his heart.

He feels hot from overthinking, even though the weather is good enough to walk around without sweating, his hands clench against the sides of the tables.

He can't concentrate.

Neuvillette calls for the melusine again, informing her that no one is allowed to enter his office for the next three days.

—

“he's sick?” Your frown deepens when Sedene explains to you to why she barricaded your way from entering the Iudex’s office.

“Monsieur Neuvillette told me not to let anyone enter for the next three days.” Sedene says cautiously and you both just stare at eachother. “What if he needs medicine?”

“he insists he doesn't.”

“Being sick isn't good, what if he's unconscious right now?”

“oh no, don't worry.” Sedene smiles to try and reassure you, and your shoulders slump in defeat. “… can you send him this instead then?” You hand her a paper bag filled with different desserts you both agreed to try—for a break.

“Right away.” She takes the paper bag and skips her way through her desk to put it on the back.

You're so evil for this, but you're determined.

You hurriedly and quietly make your way inside his office while she was distracted, and when she peeked her head up to see you gone, she just shrugged it off, thinking you left already.

You don't move further when you see his head resting on top of his desk, his hair splayed out messily and his arms under his forehead.

You're concerned, just how could anyone leave the chief of justice to suffer all alone when he's done so much? It didn't make sense.

You don't mean to startle him when you were by his side, your fingers brushing over the burning skin to check his temperature and your eyebrows furrow.

But your wrist were suddenly being grabbed by him, and you gasp. His eyes half-lidded when he starts examining your wrist, still unaware that it was you in this very room with him.

When Neuvillette takes in your scent that seems to linger on your skin, his eyes snap up towards yours and he pushes himself away.

“I-i’m sorry—” Neuvillette was quick to fix his disheveled self, one you've yet to see. The Iudex that always kept a presentable appearance seemed to be dazed at this very moment.

“I'm sorry,” you echoed his apology, not meaning to entirely frighten him with your sudden appearance. “I heard you were sick, so i wanted to check up on you.”

Neuvillette had one had gripping the wooden desk to the point his knuckles turned white, and his eyes diverted his attention away from your face, “i assure you.. I'm fine.” he stands up, hurriedly, turning around to somehow avoid you.

Only if you know, you'd be disgusted from him. He needs to drive you away from here—or else you'll drive him towards insanity.

“can i.. check up and take care of you?”

damn it. Who is he to refuse? Especially when you asked so nicely.

Neuvillette is now seated on the couch per your instructions, a blanket wrapped around him because you were convinced he felt cold despite his fever.

Sedene is now not even surprised you didn't listen to her, she only sighs as she brings the herbal tea you asked from her.

“It won't work.” Sedene tells you flatly at the door, but you take the cup anyway, “call me if you need anything more.” She says one last time before you wave her off.

“here, herbal teas are the best when you're sick.” You carefully hand him the tea cup, “it's hot.” You warn him softly, and he takes the cup just fine—thanks to his gloves.

“did you get the tea from Wriothesley?”

“… who?”

“no—nevermind, thank you.” He offers you a weak smile before nearing the cup close to his lips, then inhaling sharply to take in the scent of the strong herbs, just anything but your scent.

“Are you comfortable like this?” You ask while adjusting the blanket around him and he only nods while taking a slow sip.

Leave. He wants to tell you, it's already dizzying.

He crosses his legs before clearing his throat loudly, almost like coughing on purpose.

And you are already scooting closer while patting his back, you're doing the complete opposite of what he's trying to let you do. “Are you okay?” You tilt your head to take a better look at his face, his neck twisting to the other side. And you notice just how red the tips of his ears were.

“How about i fetch you some cough medicine?”

“I will be just alright without it, thank you.”

You press your lips together into a thin line, he seems to be refusing everything. Or maybe he's just stubborn when sick?

“you need to eat,” you stand up to grab the paper bag filled with croissant that you bought earlier from a nearby bakery.

You don't know what his favourites were, so you bought a variety of things.

“this one is not sweet, it's buttery.” you rip a small piece for him to try, but he still keeps his head away from you.

You are already frowning, “Neuvillette, are you upset with me? Could you please look here? I just want you to get better…”

That's all it took for him to snap his head back to your attention, he would hate to be the source of your sadness, and that little change in your tone said it all.

You smile when he faces you, “say ‘ahh’.” You laugh quietly to yourself as you near the piece closer to his lips, and he only watches in amusement at first.

“i didn't poison it.” You joke, and it manages to make his lips curl, “I'll eat it first to prove it to you,” you now piece of croissant between your teeth before on it with your mouth closed while humming.

The remenats of the croissant lingered on your lips, and he can't seem to tear his gaze away from your bottom lip.

You notice, of course. Assuming it was crumbs, you glide your tongue along your lower lip, leaving a glossy sheen to your lips.

You weren't even trying, his mind just decided it was attractive coming from you.

And his breath quickens, his pupils dilate, his hand slides along the couch right to your side, and god you smell just so swe—

“Neuvillette?” He blinks, and he's met with your confused face. Just then he realizes his head was tilted to the side, gestured to leaning in.

Oh god. You're going to so hate him.

“leave.” He abruptly stands up, brushing the blanket off his shoulders to walk towards the window, opening it for him to breath some fresh air. “… please.”

“Okay.” You don't argue back, you respect his privacy of being alone. And you stand up to carry yourself out of his office before shutting it close.

Sedene wants to ask you what happened, but she doesn't bother when she sees how your hand is resting above your chest to feel the quickening of your heartbeat as you slowly make your way out.

What was that?

—

“I owe you an explanation.”

“you literally don't owe me anything,”

“Do you hate—”

“Neuvi, i don't.” you tap at his arm, giving him a sincere smile before laughing. “It's not a big deal. Sick people tend to be stubborn.”

Neuvillette has healed after a week, and he immediately asked for you to hang out together again after he fully recovered, and you suggested you both talk over a picnic.

That's how you find yourself under a tree, above the cottony blanket beneath both of you with a basket of goodies on the side. You also brought two canvases with you, because why not?

Neuvillette contemplates whether he should tell you about his true nature, he fears you'll never talk to him afterwards.

“Something's on your mind,” you mindlessly speak as you put the canvas on his lap, “let's paint together, I'm sure it will ease our minds a bit.”

He now focuses on the way his brush strokes the white canvas, now filling it with different colours, he wants to try every colour, and you encourage for him to do so.

“i am not who you think to be,” Neuvillette starts as he continues gliding the brush.

“Mm, do tell. Are you a fairy?”

You earn a chuckle from him, and you chuckle right back, “or perhaps a merman?” You raise an eyebrow, yet your eyes don't leave your art.

“neither.” He sighs, “I am the… Hydro Dragon Sovereign.” He mutters under his breath, and he could see from his peripheral vision how you seemed to stop your work.

Both of your eyes meet, his of worry, and yours of curiousity and shock.

“no wonder,” your voice lowers and his eyebrows furrow before his eyes widen when you reach to brush your fingers along the shape of his ear. “It makes sense now. This is very interesting.”

He's at a lost. You were not upset, nor angry or anything, you were more amazed than any of these pessimistic emotions.

His shoulders relax, he was worried about nothing. It was you after all, the most understanding, gentle human being.

“thank you for telling me.” You now keep your hands to yourself, “as for me,” you turn to hold your canvas again to show him your newly art piece.

“I'm actually a turtle.” You try not to burst out laughing when you show him the detailed drawing of a baby turtle next to a pond, he looks quite shocked and mortified.

“… i would not like you to be a turtle.”

“why? Because they're slow?”

He shakes his head while trying to hide his smirk, “That's one,” he quips before it was his turn to show his canvas, “you remind me art.” You witness his painting, and you think it's the most beautiful sight.

It's a brown canvas with all sort of colours that blend well together, and you could clearly see the flower at the bottom of it, showing that it was growing. “I'm jealous,” you pout, “i should've painted a dragon, had i known you were one much earlier.” You groan before making a mental note to yourself of what your next art should be.

Neuvillette laughs. A genuine sound coming from him as his hand finds his cheek to try and hide any signs of redness. The sound makes you feel the familiar feelings whenever you were around him, shyness, happiness and the racing of your heart.

He calms down after a breath before speaking again, “I trust you won't spread our secret.”

“The secret will die with me.” You reassure him. “though i am curious now, maybe i should buy books about dragons?” You speak your mind while smiling mischievously and he shakes his head in response, “you shouldn't tire yourself with such matters.”

“it's not tiring, it's more interesting.”

"I understand your curiosity," Neuvillette replies with a gentle smile, his eyes softening at your enthusiasm, and he keeps his attention to you, since you're everything he ever thinks of these days.

“I will miss this.” You prop your elbow on your thigh as your chin rests on the palm of your hand, “i know you're a busy man, and having the privilege to meet you like this so often… i feel lucky.”

No. You? Lucky? He's the lucky one. You're the only person he's excited to see after a long trial. The only person he's enjoyed having company with in a very very long time.

He had grown quite fond of you in the short time you've known each other, he forgets that you'll leave soon, "When... when do you plan to leave Fontaine?" He asks, his voice reluctant.

“… in two weeks.”

Neuvillette nods slowly. A week... That's all the time he has left with you. He's quiet for a moment, processing the information. Then, he speaks up, his voice quieter than usual, "just a week, huh?”

You can feel his mood shift, and you can't help but be upset. You think you have upsetted him a little too much, you want to reach your hand out to him… but you keep them to yourself when you see how he seems to ponder in his own thoughts.

—

The weather is bad. You note, the clouds seem to darken as you continue your walk, a few droplets falling from the sky and right on your cheek, and you quickly hold your bag close to you, you can't afford ruining your art supplies now.

You wanted to pass by Chioriya Boutique, you hear it's a popular fashion label, but with the current change of weather, you will most likely postpone your plans to tomorrow.

Oh no, you need to seek shelter. Rain is pouring harder now, and you witness how the citizens expressions turn to disappointment.

The kids playing nearby stop their feet from kicking the ball around as well.

“hydro dragon, hydro dragon! Don't cry!” You're surprised to hear one of the kids chant and run, was this some fontanine thing that you didn't know about? Come to think of it, you heard it once when you were painting on one rainy day, but you didn't pay much mind to it.

You smile at the silly words as you try to imitate them, “hydro dragon, hydro dragon, don't…” your smile drops when you realise something, and your eyebrows furrow.

Hydro dragon? Crying? Could the rain possibly be—

You don't waste time when you begin running towards Neuvillette's office. The only place where you're guaranteed to see him.

The rain is pouring harder now, drenching your clothes and hair, the puddles splashing from your feet and dirtying your shoes and pants, but you're too focused on getting to him to care about your condition.

Finally reaching the doors to his office, you barge in, panting slightly from the rush.

“Neuvillette!”

Neuvillette turns away from the rain-soaked window, his eyes widening with surprise and a little startled as you burst into his office, panting and calling out his name. He takes in your drenched appearance, confusion and surprise etched across his face.

"Are you okay? Hurt?" He asks, striding towards you. He's worried. He's afraid of what must've happened to you.

"N-no but—the rain, are you.. upset? Is the rain from you?”

Neuvillette's eyes flicker away for a moment, avoiding your gaze. He had hoped no one would catch on to the connection between his emotions and the weather, but you being here, figuring it out after that children's chant, means he can't deny it.

His heart aches, yet he doesn't want to lie to you, "yes," he admits, "the rain is... it's a result of my emotions.”

You take a step forward while water drips from your hair strands, “is it my fault?”

He shakes his head vigorously as you blame yourself for his upset. "No," he insists, his voice firm yet gentle. "It's... it's not entirely your fault. Yes, you're leaving, and I'm... I'm not taking it well, but my emotional outburst isn't your responsibility." He, as well, moves closer to you, his fists clenched to his sides.

“i don't know, i don't like upsetting you.” You frown.

Seeing the sadness in your eyes, he reaches gently to touch your damp hair, his fingers brushing a few stray strands out of your face, "you're not upsetting me," he reassures quietly. "I... I'm just struggling to accept the thought of you leaving. That's all. It's not your fault.”

Your arm reaches out for him, Neuvillette stiffens a little when he feels you wrap your arm around him. Your shivering body against his own, your face buried against his shoulder... it's both soothing and stirring.

His heart races in his chest as he gently returns the embrace, one arm encircling around your waist, and the other holding you close, it's comforting, you feel warmer, even when you feel your eyelashes dampen a little.

His hug is gentle, tight, it's as if he's hugging your soul. Just when you were the one who wanted to comfort him.

“I will miss you.”

“so will i, although I'm just a normal person.”

“No, you're not.”

“how so?”

Neuvillette presses his lips together, "You make me feel things I've never felt before," he confesses quietly. "You make my heart race, my palms sweaty, my mind confused... yet, in a good way. You make me feel alive.” you lift your chin from his shoulder, your hand coming up to caresse the smoothness of his face, and your lip curls upwards.

“Can i…” your eyes are glued to his lips, and you don't sense yourself nearing closer to his face. Neuvillette's were wide when you come closer and closer to his face, his hand fisting the fabric of the back of your clothes too tightly, and he gasps quietly as your cold, damp lips meet his own.

he's too stunned to respond.

But as your lips remain pressed against his, he slowly melts into the kiss, his eyes fluttering shut. This was his first kiss, and it was with you, the person who'd stolen his heart in such a short span of time.

Neuvillette can't believe what's happening. Your lips against his, the way they fit together perfectly, it makes his heart race in his chest, his head spin. He reciprocates the kiss, his lips moving gently against yours.

Your arms wrap themselves around his neck to push yourself closer, your fingers brush at his hair, and it makes him shudder.

you kiss him harder, your lips ravishing his own. He follows your lead, his inexperience showing in his slightly clumsy, but enthusiastic response as you smack your lips in soft kisses over and over again.

You seperate your lips away from his, but it doesn't last before your thumb parts his lips gently, “open your mouth.” You whisper, he obeys, slowly opening his mouth, his breath coming in quick, shallow gasps.

An involuntary moan escapes Neuvillette's lips as you plunge your tongue into his mouth, tangling it with his own. He's never experienced anything like this before, his arms tighten around your waist, his fingers digging slightly into your hips, as he responds to your kiss, his own tongue clumsily trying to match your pace.

It's addictive. His taste, his touch, you feel selfish enough to want him all for yourself.

You both pull away when you fell the oxygen run out from your lungs as you inhale back sharply. Your hazy gaze meets his half-lidded one's and you think you've never seen such a prettier sight.

“… have i gone overboard?” You whisper, and he swallows thickly before resting his forehead against yours to close his eyes, “no..”

The rain has stopped, the pattering against the window nothing more than a soft drizzle.

He runs his fingers through your damp hair, feeling how it clings to your face, and how your eyes seem to lit up.

A soft smile plays on his lips as he gazes at you, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. The world outside seems to have calmed along with his emotions, mirroring the peace he feels in your presence. He leans in, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, savoring this intimate moment between you.

“you have your own life, your own path to follow. I can't keep you here, it's not fair to you.” He wants to keep you to himself, he's too selfish, and he knows it.

And you're greedy, and you know it.

You part your lips to protest, but his eyes tell you everything. He just wants you happy, to continue living your human life and not waste it.

That he, will be just a memory to you. A precious one. Just how you will be the most treasured memory that he will keep in his heart.

—

“Monsieur Neuvillette, i got you the macarons.” Sedene taps his desk lightly to grab his attention as sets the plate and water cup in front of him.

“Ah, thank you, Sedene.” His fingers pull at the plate to take a better look at them, ever since you left Fontaine about a month ago, Neuvillette never stopped ordering the sweets you used to give him every now and then.

Every day, Neuvillette finds himself missing your presence.

He goes about his duties, attending to his role as Iudex, but his mind is often elsewhere. Despite his attempts to focus on his work, he keeps finding his thoughts drifting back to you, memories of your time together replaying in his mind.

At night, he lies in bed alone, the silence in his quarters almost deafening. He finds himself reaching out, almost subconsciously, as if looking for a body that isn't there.

Or when his fingertips brushed along his lips to try and feel your cold lips that day, was it a goodbye kiss?

“Is it about that artist?” Sedene speaks her mind when she notices how dull the Iudex gets as the days go by, even though he tries to act unaffected per your words. He wouldn't want the nation to drown in his tears just because of his own reasons.

“This reminds me,” She takes out an envelope from the pocket of her uniform before standing on her tip toes to hand it to him before making her way out.

The envelope was neat, with a pretty designed stamp on, Neuvillette opened it carefully before taking out it's contents.

It's you. Or, a photo of you. Smiling brightly with the aranaras, it makes him smile to himself as he traces the photo. You look even more charming than he remembers.

There's another note with the photo, but it's a vague message. A written location here in Fontaine, with a specific date and time.

Neuvillette is confused, was this a message of your return? And based on the date, it's three days from now. He will try to clear his schedule for the set time, he doesn't know what to expect, maybe a gift awaits for him, he wishes you wrote more, but that was the end of it.

—

Neuvillette stands in front of the wooden door, hesitant to knock on it. This is the place, the exact date and time. The sun is disappearing for today, and it's the moon's turn to show it's face.

He knocks twice, the sound ringing in the still air. Just as he was about to go for another knock, the door opens, and he barely comprehends what's going on before he feels a hand pull him in, and he gasps.

He's startled in the moment, but all of Neuvilette's worries and frustrations melt away when he realizes it's you who threw their arms around his neck, he wastes no time in returning the embrace, pulling you tight against him.

He holds you close, his arms practically enveloping you as he buries his face into your shoulder, relishing the feel of you in his arms again.

“Such a vague message you sent me,” he tries to speak light-heartedly, and you giggle in response. He's now assured it's your laugh.

“I've missed you.” He whispers next to your ear to make sure you hear the words, “I've missed you more.” You whisper back, mimicking his gesture.

“impossible.” he retorts, the corner of his wrinkling from how much he's been smiling.

And the moment your lips meet his to shush him, Neuvilette feels like he's come alive again. He responds instantly, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you flush against him.

He knows how to kiss you now, hopefully he does it the same as the last time.

He kisses you passionately, now devouring your lips, hungrily trying to make up for every moment you were apart. The taste, the texture, the feel of your lips against his, it all floods his senses, reigniting the spark that's been missing since you left. And he remembers it all.

Neuvilette follows your lead, stumbling a little as he's guided backwards towards the bed. His mind is filled with a haze as you strip off your coat, he finds his hands roaming over your body while panting softly as you staddle his lap. His emotions are a mess, but what he knows is that he needs you more than he's ever thought.

“Neuvillette,” you utter his name in a soft, low tone. It makes his jaw slack a bit when you kiss at the skin of his neck, and he tips his head back to give you more space. He's all yours.

He thinks he's about to go dizzy, it's all unfamiliar, he's overwhelmed that he doesn't know what to feel first. But you going slow for him makes him want more and more—

His head goes blank when your middle and ring fingers slip inside his black glove to feel his skin against yours. You slide the material off with each to intertwine your fingers together.

You're incredible, he thinks—knows.

“Can i go further?” You ask, and he doesn't hesitate to nod, “paint your lips on my body.”

He expected to feel the graze of your teeth along the curve of his collarbone, what he didn't expect was for you to palm his bulge, stroking him through the fabric of his pants. The tips of his ears grow redder and this is the most embarrassed he's ever felt. He can feel himself growing harder with each touch, his body reacting instinctively to your ministrations, and he can't help but thrust upwards.

“M-mon amour, i… i—” he cannot bring the words, not when you're showing him too much love and affection all at once.

He's never experienced such intense pleasure before, and the thought of reaching his release so quickly is both exhilarating and terrifying. He wants to savor every moment, to prolong this incredible feeling, but his body apparently had other plans.

You stop when you hear him almost whimper, it takes you by surprises. When your eyes search for his—all you're met with is his half-lidded full of lust gaze. You realize what had happened when you felt the damp spot sitting on the fabric.

he grabs the back of your neck gently to pull your face right in his hair, “give me… a minute.” He clears his throat before giving your intertwined hands a squeeze.

“May i?” He mutters, “mhm,” and his hands beginning to undo the buttons of your blouse, revealing the smooth skin beneath. He leans forward, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone and down to the swell of her breasts, which makes your grit your teeth together because you know you'd be moaning too fast with whatever of his touch landed on your skin.

His fingers trace the lacy edge of your bra, feeling the material before Neuvillette's lips find yours again, his tongue delving into your mouth as he deepens the kiss, and his hand slips beneath your bra to cup your breasts. And this time it successfully managed to make you moan against his lips.

One clasp, and your bra falls from your body to reveal your bare self, he thinks it's a sin to stare at such a perfect body.

“you're perfect,” he rasps against your skin. His hands map the contours of your body, memorizing every dip and swell, as he trails lower.

Neuvillette's mouth finds one pert nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud as his hand cups your other breast. He lavishes attention on your chest, alternating between licking, sucking, and gentle nips, until you are arching into his touch, your breathy moans and whines filling the room.

His other hand slides down your stomach, fingers dancing along your hip bones before dipping between your thighs after having rid of the unecessary barrier between you both.

He wants to touch you in the way you like it, and so sensing his hesitation, you take his hand in yours, and he groans at the wetness he finds there, his fingers gliding easily through your slick folds.

When you guide his fingers through your slit, you stop at your clit, and he takes it as cue to circle your clit with the pad of his thumb which ultimately makes you moan louder, your hand leaving for him to take control.

Neuvillette captures your lips in a searing kiss as he keeps your thighs parted for him when he feels you wanting to close them together.

Your heart races, with each tight circle around your sensitive nub, it makes you pant softly, your lips parted before gasping in surprise when you feel him slowly pushing one long finger inside you, relishing the way your walls grip him tightly.

It's warm, it's tight, how would he even fit inside you?

He experimentally curls his fingers repeatedly before setting a steady rhythm, curling and thrusting his finger to hit that perfect spot inside you. He was already so hard that it was starting to ache and throb, he wishes to have some self control just for now.

“gonna cum—” the minute he heard you say that, he withdrew his finger out of you which makes you whine at the loss. “Wh—” the words die on your tongue when you watch him undress, his hand holding his prettily flushed cock right at the base to position himself between your legs, “I am an impatient and greedy man, forgive me,” his voice is soothing as he pecks your lips before you feel his fat tip starting to stretch you at your entrance, and you both groan in relief.

Your hot and tight walls clamped around him when he thrusted forward to bury all of himself in you at once. Which literally, almost makes him cum if not for the way his gripping your thighs so harshly.

He presses your thighs down until they reach the sides of your ears, it makes your back arch, and your cunt swallowing all of him as he buries his face into your neck, “H-hah please relax—i can't, you're going to make finish sooner again—” you listen to his quiet pleas, and you try to relax your body, you also want this to be a lasting moment.

Neuvillette's heart pounds in sync with the rhythm of his thrusts, he can feel your nails digging into his shoulders, your hips rocking to meet his movements. The sounds of skin slapping together in the air is so lewd that he tries to divert his attention elsewhere.

His thrusts grows sloppier by the minute as he breathes heavily, his cock twitching inside you before he starts increasing the pace to reach both of your release, one hand leaving your thigh to rub circles around your swollen clit, and suddenly, you're crying out, your body convulsing beneath him as your orgasm crashes over you. He groans, the shivering sensation of your cunt squeezing aroud him sends his face into your neck, muffling his cries of ecstasy as he empties himself inside you. He cums harder than the first time, as if emptying everything he has to give you until a white ring forms at his base.

Your eyes roll back when you feel so warm and full, your legs giving out tiredly as you both relax in the comfort of one another.

Yeah, you're tied to him now.

—

“I'd like for you to treasure this painting.” Neuvillette frowns when you gesture towards the large canvas that took you months to finish.

It's you, and him.

Living with Neuvillette feels right, although he doesn't steal your freedom and passion to continue travelling around different nations, as long as you come back to him, your home.

you wish for him to travel with you one day. He already promised you to after all.

“It's marvelous,” he comments, almost breathlessly. He'll have to hang it where it's only visible to his and your eyes.

He knows why you do this, why you create simple art that's a memory of both of you. Favourite food? You'll draw it. Favourite hobbies together? You'll catch the moment right on the canvas with extra vibrant colours.

“One day when i—” he doesn't want to hear it, he doesn't want to hear how one day you'll leave this world permanently and he'll have to live on. Painful years after years without you.

“I want to treasure every second with you,” he lifts your hand up to his lips, for him to kiss the back of your hand before his thumbs rubbed over your knuckles.

You give him a reassuring smile, “you are going to be a wonderful experience until then.”

“and you… will be everything to me, even after that.” Neuvillette smiles back before exhaling deeply.

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