#hazbin Hotel x reader

[t041wastaken]

The writing??? MAWH💋! I actually love itttt😭 oh to be a good writer someday😔

𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐒𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞.ᐟ

⋆｡ﾟYou, new to Hell and clueless about everything, pass them on the street and give them a polite smile and wave ﾟ｡⋆

— Lucifer, Alastor, Vox, Angel Dust

Lucifer watches as you shine your sharp teeth at him in a genuine smile with furrowed eyebrows. When he noticed you waving, he awkwardly waves back with his cane and watches you walk away. After his years of isolation, his name has definitely lost a lot of weight, but still sinners don’t just casually wave and smile at him. How odd.

Alastor meets your smile with his own, although it’s his default expression, it does grow at the sight of you. What was someone so cheery and naive doing in Hell? And smiling at him of all Demons, like he was just any other sinner? Oh you might just be a perfect asset for Charlie’s hotel.

Vox flashes you his signature showmanship smile, but pauses when you just walk past him. Normally when someone smiles and waves at him, they want something. Either information about VoxTec or the Vee’s plans, he was always selling something. Yet you waved and kept walking, like you didn’t even know who he was. It was interesting to say the least.

Angel Dust is used to attention, wanted or otherwise, so random Demons waving and smiling at him were normal. What wasn’t normal was the lack of malice behind your smile, and the fact that you kept walking instead of trying to buy him for the night. He watched you continue down the street and wondered just how soon Charlie would snatch you up.

First time writing for these characters so I hope it’s okay

[6esiree]

“I think I might have fallen in love… oh, what am I to do?” Alastor wistfully mutters as he stares at a portrait of his mother, longing for her guidance.

[amphibiahawks321]

[In Rosie's Emporium, Rosie casually gives Y/N her playful teasing that starts off as just light flirts but... It quickly turns into something more heated, Y/N captured by Rosie's charm]

M!Reader blushing : Uh–Woah... You've been pretty... Flirty today, Rosie...

[Rosie leans in closer, her voice dripping with a sweet tone]

Rosie : Oh, darling, I'm merely getting started, oh you know how cute you are when you get all blushy on me

M!Reader blushing : Chuckles... You're making it like it's important—

[Rosie starts playfully tracing her fingers along his chest]

Rosie : Oh, you have no idea, how bout some little fun later Hm?~

[Y/N now complete flushed, enable to speak a word]

Rosie : Chuckles... Don't worry, I'll take good care of you when it happens~

[Rosie laughs softly, her eyes darkening with a mischievous glint]

[venomhoundfanworks]

Hazbin Hotel - Breakfast

I heard someone use a pickup line along the lines of; "How about I have you for breakfast?" I thought it was both hilarious and got... strangely inspired from it? So here I am writing a Lucifer/Reader story using it as the prompt. (๑˃́ꇴ˂̀๑)

Summery: You wake up to wonderfully melodic Lucifer cooking you a breakfast fit for a king. However, food is the last thing on your mind with how the beautiful angel before you keeps sensually moving his perfect body without realizing it...

Contents/WARNINGS: Gender neutral reader; reader's genitals are not mentioned; no use of y/n; oral sex, male receiving; crying during sex; Lucifer protests a bit at the start but don't worry he is super into it and its all consensual (18+), MDNI, NSFW below the cut ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

It was one of those mornings. Sleep attempting to drown you. Your mind cloudy as if you hadn't rested at all. It took awhile for you to fully wake up. But even before you did, the back of your mind knew something was wrong. Something was off. You instinctively reached for your partner, before you realized the problem.

He wasn't there.

Even in your foggy state, you started to grow concerned. Lucifer was not one to leave the bed without morning cuddles and several kisses (at the very least). If he left at all, that is. It was more accurate to call him a ‘bedbody' instead of a homebody. It wasn't until you started to get out of the bed that you smelt the wonderful aromas now filling the house. Ah, thats where he was.

You smiled to yourself as you quietly approached the kitchen. You could hear Lucifer’s singing even from down the hallway. Days like this were rare; when he woke up in such a jovial mood. But when it did happen, it made all the bad days worth it.

And today was certainly going to be worth it. You could tell by the way you were greeted by the adorable sight of Lucifer, who was still in his duck pajamas, wearing a very classic red and white heart apron. Your amused smile turned into a loving grin as you leaned on the archway, fully taking in the sight before you.

Lucifer was completely in his own head at the moment. Buzzing to and fro the entire kitchen, making three separate things at once. You highly doubted he would have noticed you come in, even discounting his morning singing and little dances around the room. You had to admit, the view from where you stood was nice. Lucifer mostly had his back turned to you, and the apron he wore accentuated his waist nicely. His ass always looked nice; but the red of the apron drew the eye and seemed to frame it perfectly.

Part of you felt bad. Here Lucifer was, making a three course breakfast for you. A experience fit for actual royalty. Yet you were too busy leering at him to care or even pay attention to what he was making. But the other part of you had to admit the truth; even if you were paying attention, you would have no idea what he was making. You were neither a chef nor royalty. Anything past eggs or pancakes was beyond you.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when you noticed Lucifer clearing down. It amazed you how efficient the angel could be when he wanted to. His decades, maybe centuries, of practice showing in how fast and precisely he put things back in their rightful place. Yet, his usual air-headedness also showed in how he simply dumped everything that was even kind of dirty into the sink to be dealt with later. You held back a chuckle, watching Lucifer grumble as he attempted to wash his hands in the now over-flowing sink. Guess it was now or never...

“Good morning, Luci.” You felt your face start to burn and you tried to subtly clear your throat. That came out much more… husky then you intended.

Lucifer must have really been in his own world. He visibly jumped and squeaked when you spoke. But as soon as his eyes landed on you, his entire being relaxed and softened. A loving, dopey grin taking over his face. “Good morning, Duckie! I made breakfast~”

His love for you was infectious. You felt yourself returning the look as you made your way across the room. Lucifer sidestepped, quickly drying his hands on a nearby towel. You wrapped your arms around the cheerful angel, hugging him from behind and resting your head in the crook of his neck. Lucifer hummed and swayed gently; nuzzling up into you and placing his hands upon yours.

The moment was serene. The moment was perfect. You would have loved for it to last forever.

But as it stood, you had a very happy; very beautiful; very handsome man in your arms. One who was sensually rubbing his ass against you without realizing it. After a few moments, you began to feel a familiar heat rising in your chest. Once again, Lucifer was completely lost in the moment; snuggling up against you. Unaware of how your eyes started to drink in his form; his still sleep tussled hair; his exposed neck…

That was what did you in.

“I missed you in the bed this morning…” You practically purred. You kissed and licked at Lucifer’s jawline. Judging by the way the angel went from practically limp in your arms one moment, to completely rigid the next; he had finally caught on. You chuckled against his skin as Lucifer let out a surprised whimper, unintentionally lolling his head back and exposing even more skin. You took the opportunity to latch onto his neck, drawing out a rather hapless, breathless cry.

Your grip on his waist tightened. Now locking his body to yours. One of Lucifer’s hands went to brace himself against the counter, while the other went up to your head as if to push you away. But when you bit down on his neck, Lucifer seemed to change his mind. His claws gripping at your hair instead.

“Oohhh-Duckie…” Now that wouldn’t do. ‘Duckie’ was your ‘cutesy’ name. The petname Lucifer used when one of you was being adorable or he was overcome with love. He never used it in the throes of passion. Clearly, you needed to try harder. You continued nipping at Lucifer’s neck, while one of your hands began to snake its way under his apron. “Duckie-Darling…” There it is.

Lucifer’s mind had started to grow cloudy once he felt your fingers on his thigh. Once you began to palm his half-hard cock, he was gone.

“Ah! Ahh-oohhh… Please-” Both of Lucifer’s clawed hands now gripped at the counter for dear life. The sudden jolts of pleasure from your hand were like raw electricity right to his brain. “Darling…” Lucifer pleaded. You were sure it was intended to be a protest, but it sounded more desperate then anything. “Its early…”

Lucifer squirmed pathetically in your hold. He made no attempts to escape but was trying his absolute hardest to not thrust his hips into your touch. Which resulted in him grinding backwards against you instead. You didn't even think Lucifer was aware of what he was doing to you. So focused on his own dick…

“Oh…oohh…” Lucifer looked down at your hand disappointedly when you stopped rubbing him through his pants. But you felt his whole body tense in excitement as he realized your hand was instead now clumsily working to free his cock. Ever the impatient man, Lucifer quickly brought his own hands down to assist you in undoing the buttons of his sleep pants.

Lucifer threw his head back against you and cried out when you finally touched him; immediately setting a slow, steady pace meant to drive the angel mad. His claws were right back against the counter; bracing himself against it like you were actually fucking him. Like he could collapse at any moment. “W-wha-what’s gotten into you..?”

Despite his attempts at verbal protest, Lucifer’s traitorous body melted into you and his breathing quickly grew ragged. You worked his shaft with steady, practiced precision; and Lucifer was a weak man ready to break.

He turned towards you and attempted to gasp out another excuse, “We-we haven’t even had breakfast yet-ahHHH-!” Lucifer interrupted his own words with an arch and a cry; ripped from him as you suddenly swiped your palm over his leaking head.

You hummed in fake thought as his hands now desperately reached back and grabbed at you. One of them latched onto the bicep of the arm that was currently pumping him. You loved the way you could feel his claws tremble. “What if I wanted you for breakfast?” You gave a toothy grin as you heard Lucifer gasp. If it was even possible, the glow of his yellow blush grew even deeper and was now spreading down his chest. He must have really liked that idea, going solely off the way you felt his cock jump in anticipation.

Lucifer whined and pleaded, arching up to chase your touch as you pulled your hands away. Desperate cries of please, please, please poured from his mouth unrestrained. But they were cut off with a yelp as you hoisted the small angel into your arms.

Lucifer immediately wrapped his lithe arms around you, his mouth moving to kiss and lick at your neck. You wondered for a moment if it was vengeance for earlier. But quickly disregarded the thought. You doubted Lucifer could think that far at the moment.

Luckily, you didn’t need to carry him all the way to the bedroom. You had the perfect spot for this, since Lucifer had yet to set the kitchen table...

You gently detached Lucifer from your neck and laid him down on the beautiful, ebony table. Lucifer did little to resist you. His eyes clouded with raw lust, and his claws moving on their own to brace themselves against the wooden surface above his head. His half-lidded eyes followed you as you circled the table like a predator. Stopping once you were able to lecherously look down upon him from in between his legs.

Your face was starting to hurt from how wide you were smiling. But you couldn't possibly help it. Not with Lucifer, the King of Hell, the Sin of Pride; sprawled out and limp on the table below you like an actual meal. Like he was the lamb being offered to a hungry god on the face of an alter.

Lucifer's face was blush stained and his eyes were pleading. Part of you wanted to tease him and make him beg, but the other part of you wanted to overwhelm him until he broke. Lucifer knew he was completely at your mercy too, with the way he trembled under your hot gaze as your eyes dragged over the sinful display he was making. You swore you could hear the faint sound of scratching against wood as your eyes roamed. Lucifer looked away in embarrassment when your eyes finally settled on his cock.

A lustful growl erupted from your throat. The apron did little to hide Lucifer’s cock; standing nearly perfectly upright, at proud attention. You could feel Lucifer’s anticipation in the air as you lifted the apron up to bunch against his waist. Quickly, you finished what the two of you had started earlier; removing his pants and tossing them carelessly to the side.

His cock was gorgeous. Subtle curve, with a wonderfully flared head. Precum dripping steadily from the tip. In that moment, you made your decision.

You were going to overwhelm him.

Lucifer let out a absolutely obscene sound as you took as much of him into your mouth as you could in one go. You heard the -CRACK- of Lucifer’s restraint snapping; the sound of his claws breaking into the surface of your once flawless table. Instinctively, Lucifer’s trembling legs spread impossibly wide for you. Your grip on his thighs tightened as you locked Lucifer in the new, wonderful position he had put himself in.

“Ah-AH-ahhh…” Lucifer’s moans had become more of a chant as you mercilessly sucked him down. There was no easing into it. It was just suddenly all tongue and throat and oh god, how did he get this lucky?

It was too much. It was not enough. Lucifer’s claws dug deeper into the wooden table, undoubtedly leaving discernible grooves of his fingers now. Lucifer felt like he was hanging on for dear life as he screwed his eyes shut, a few overwhelmed tears escaping. His entire torso twisted and writhed underneath you while his legs shook uncontrollably. He was desperate for more. He was desperate to get away. Yet, all his squirming did nothing with the iron grip you had on his pelvis.

But just as quickly as you had descended on him; you were gone. The only sound Lucifer was able to make was a protesting, wanton whine. It was as if you had sucked the very air from his lungs, leaving him panting and out of breath. Lucifer’s lust fogged eyes fluttered open to look into yours. To see why you had stopped.

“Lucifer?” You said his name so sweetly. So… unfitting of the lewd position you two were currently in. Him, spread eagle on the table in front of you; an apron the only thing hiding the shameful sight of Lucifer’s weeping, twitching cock from his own eyes. You, absentmindedly rubbing Lucifer’s inner thighs with your thumbs as you kept him spread nice and wide; the innocent look on your face betrayed by a smear of precum on the side of your mouth.

Lucifer swore you had to be an angel in that moment. Someone destined for heaven but sent here for him. Just for him. “Y-yes, Dove?”

You placed a gentle kiss to the side of his knee before smiling at him tenderly. “I love you.”

It was as if those words, those three simple words, set every nerve ending inside Lucifer alight. He simultaneously felt too aware of his own body, and as if you had suddenly knocked him out. Lucifer felt his heart stutter and skip when the words were uttered. Then each rapid pound against his ribcage that followed. But his mind was being drowned by the echoing of rushing blood. Not to mention the heat that Lucifer felt suddenly burning him from within.

“Ooohh…” It was as if the words themselves had granted Lucifer physical pleasure as he arched off the table and groaned. “I love you too…”

You gave a pleased smile before promptly returning to your previous position, taking the entirety of him into your mouth once again.

Lucifer thrashed as he brokenly cried. Maybe your words really did set his nervous system on fire. Everything felt so much more intense now. Lucifer’s eyes were wide, yet unseeing. His vision cast in a blurry haze due to the overwhelmed tears that were now streaming down his face. “Oh god, I love you.”

He didn’t last long. You knew he wouldn't either with his convulsing body and delirious declarations of love. Lucifer arched off the table, screwing his eyes shut, nearly screaming as he came. His legs shook violently and he tried in vain to spread even wider as you drank him down.

Lucifer finally went limp. Gasping for air like it had been knocked out of him. He whimpered and convulsed from oversensitivity when you pulled your mouth off him. Lucifer had cum so hard that you couldn't possibly swallow it all; leaving a coating along the side of his dick and a rather scandalous trail on the side of your face. But you paid it no mind as you went to dampen a nearby washcloth so you could clean up your lovely angel.

It took a few moments for Lucifer to gather the energy to sit up. Still leaning on his arms heavily as you returned to the table. Lucifer stared at you with complete adoration as you wiped him down. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the involuntary twitches and gasps Lucifer let loose as you cleaned him. Lucifer softly kissed your forehead, then gently brought his hands up to cradle your face as you finished.

His eyes gazed into yours lovingly. His thumb stroked your cheek, swiping away some of the cum that was left there. “So beautiful…” He murmured; making your heart skip. Even with your debauched face, Lucifer still saw you as perfect.

You had to kiss him. You couldn't resist. Lucifer met you in the middle, for a passionate, yet surprisingly chaste kiss. But you were reminded for a moment of what a devil the man in front of you actually was. When you parted, his serpentine tongue flicked out across your cheek; cleaning your face of his own spend. Lucifer laughed and licked his lips. Enjoying his own taste.

You were frozen. Ironic; considering the burning blush that had now taken over your face. Lucifer lent forward, resting his forehead against yours as he affectionately grinned.

“How about we have a real breakfast now?”

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AN: Some details that either didn't make it in or I took out because they ruined the flow:

Lucifer is singing in a “language you can’t understand”

Lucifer’s pajamas are those like button-up type pajamas. They are slightly too big so they bunch up around his ankles, he can hide his hands in the sleeves, and he can do that flappy thing with them (YOU KNOW WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT EVERYONE HAS DONE IT). But yeah just overall comfy vibes with it

The apron is like one of those stereotypical 50s housewife heart aprons lol

I might draw a picture of the pajamas and apron at some point? Who knows

LINKS AND FURTHER READING ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡

Check out my other writing on my masterlist >>HERE<<

AO3 Archive Link: >>HERE<<

If you want a combo of sweet and spicy Lucifer content, you should check out the Lucifer dating headcanons by @/twinkling-moonlillie that can be found >>HERE<<

Or if your now feral and just want more sub!Lucifer; there is a wonderfully delicious post by @/redr0sewrites over >>HERE<< that I totally haven't read multiple times (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)

[t041wastaken]

LMFOAOO I CAN'T WITH THEM ARGUING😭🙏🏼

How do you think Adam and Lucifer would be as romantic rivals??

threes a crowd if you’re a coward

[i], [ii]

• First things first, it’s deadass funniest beef in history

• Adam lost to Lucifer twice, which is bad enough on its own, and now they’ve both laid eyes on the same person!? Fuck that, he’s not losing this time

• In theory, Lucifer doesn’t see Adam as a threat. It’s not until he sees you chatting with Heaven’s First Man that the sickening, all too familiar feeling of envy begins to rise in him. He hasn’t lost before and he doesn’t plan on starting now!

• You cannot keep up with the amount of gifts they give you. It’s obvious they’re both trying to outshine the other, giving flashier and shinier items that you have no use for. Did you realize you stomped on their hearts when you put your foot down?

• Secretly, you keep one of the more meaningful gifts from each of them

• Adam made you a mixtape that he of course starred in. “Lute helped,” He admitted almost bashfully. The final song is different from the rest; softer and more genuine. He named it after you

• Lucifer gave you a duck— “But this is no ordinary duck, my dear!” He wagged a finger in the air, nervously darting his eyes across your face like he was expecting ridicule. Instead of quaking when squeezed, the duck he gave you shouted positive phrases in Lucifer’s voice. Things like “Today will be great!” or “You’ve totally got this!”

• You don’t tell them that you listen to both at least once a day. It would only give them fuel for this little pissing match

• You should have known banning excessive gifts wouldn’t stop these two. They’re fucking stubborn

• If Lucifer asks to cook you breakfast, Adam asks to take you to dinner. If Adam wants you to come to his rock concert, Lucifer wants to give you a private show with his violin. If Lucifer wants to take you for a flight, well, Adam can fly higher!

• They drive you crazy. You drove them crazy first

• After an emotional night with both Adam and Lucifer— it was supposed to only be the latter but Lucifer crashed Adam’s date yesterday, so he proclaimed to be returning the favor— you were too tired (and weirdly happy?) to make a proper exit

• You planted a kiss on Lucifer’s cheek, then Adam’s, then announced that you were retiring to your bed. Closing the door behind you, you realized what you’d done. They were stunned to silence for exactly 60 seconds

“I got a kiss first.”

“I got a kiss last, that means I’m winning.”

“Have you ever heard the phrase coming in dead last?”

“First is the worst, you fucking—“

“GET OFF MY PORCH!” You shouted from inside, still beet red from embarrassment

• Lucifer and Adam wished you a good night and promised to see you tomorrow

• Damnit. You smiled hearing that. You couldn’t wait

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

No one mourns the wicked

Synopsis: No one mourns the wicked except it’s Alastor and his loving wife after he dies and the people realize he was in fact the killer terrorizing New Orleans

A/n: i was listening to this song after watching the movie and it kind of reminded me of multiple characters, one of them being Alastor, so here we are :)

Warnings: timeline tweaked to fit the storyline, Major character death, grief, obsession, dark themes, implied past violence, mourning, religious elements

Navigation

The bells tolled for Alastor.

The sound rang out over New Orleans, a slow, deliberate chime that echoed off the cobblestone streets and wrought-iron balconies. A funeral procession wound its way through the city, black-clad mourners moving with somber grace, their eyes cast downward—though not for grief.

There was no grief.

Only fear.

Alastor, beloved radio host, lively entertainer, and charming presence in every parlor and ballroom, was dead. But the man the city had adored was not the man they had buried.

The real Alastor—the one with blood on his hands and a smile on his lips—had been unmasked at last.

And now, no one mourned the wicked man.

No one except her.

She stood apart from the rest, a lone figure swathed in black lace, her veil obscuring the grief-stricken expression beneath.

His wife.

The word felt hollow now, as though spoken from another lifetime. What was she now, if not the wife of the man they cursed? The whispers had already begun—how could she not have known? How could she have laid beside a man with the devil’s grin and never seen the hellfire in his eyes?

But she had known.

She had known from the very beginning.

She had met Alastor on a summer evening when the air was thick with the scent of magnolias and the sound of jazz curled through the streets like smoke. He had been charming, so very charming, his voice warm like the whiskey he poured her, his laughter infectious.

She had loved him immediately.

Perhaps that had been her first sin.

He had taken her hand and led her into a world no other woman dared enter. His world—one of secrets and shadows, where the missing never returned and the wicked were punished not by law, but by him.

It had frightened her.

And yet, she had stayed.

That had been her second sin.

And now, she committed her last: grieving a man the world had condemned.

The funeral was held in St. Louis Cemetery No. 1, beneath a sky choked with heavy clouds, as though even the heavens refused to shine upon the dead man’s final resting place.

The priest spoke in measured tones, his voice a thin veil of piety stretched over the weight of judgment beneath. There were no kind words, no lamentations for a life lost too soon—only the murmured prayers of a man who feared for his own soul in speaking them.

She knelt at the grave as they lowered him down, her hands clenched in the folds of her dress. Her breath hitched, but she would not cry.

Alastor had never liked tears.

That night, the city rejoiced.

The terror was gone, the Monster of New Orleans put to rest at last. Music poured into the streets, the living celebrating while the dead turned in their graves.

She sat alone in their home, the ghost of his laughter still lingering in the walls, in the floorboards that creaked beneath her as she walked. The gramophone sat silent, its usual melody absent.

She could not bear to play it without him.

She could still hear them outside—people whispering his name, cursing it, spitting it into the dirt.

Had none of them loved him? Had none of them seen the brilliance in him, the fire that burned so hot it could only consume?

No.

Only she had seen.

And now, she was alone in her mourning.

The city moved on quickly, as cities often did. Another scandal would come, another name would replace his in the papers. Soon, he would be nothing more than a ghost story, a hushed warning spoken to children who strayed too far after dark.

But she would not forget.

She could not.

Late at night, when the streets fell silent and the candlelight cast long shadows against the walls, she swore she could still feel him.

She would wake to the phantom press of fingers against her wrist, the faintest trace of a breath against her ear. The scent of cigar smoke lingered when she had not lit one. The record player clicked on in the dead of night, playing a tune she had long since stopped hearing.

He was still here.

And oh, how she wished he wasn’t.

Because if he was here—if his soul still roamed these halls—then he had not found peace.

And she could not bear the thought of him suffering, not even in death.

The knocking began three nights after the funeral.

At first, she thought it was the wind, rattling the shutters in its restless wail. But then she heard it again—sharp, deliberate.

Three knocks.

Like a gentleman at a parlor door.

Like a husband returning home.

She hesitated only a moment before crossing the room, hands trembling as she reached for the handle. The air was thick with something unspoken, the kind of quiet that sat heavy in the chest.

She opened the door.

Nothing.

Only the dark, stretching out before her in endless silence.

And yet, as she closed the door, she swore she heard it—

The low, familiar hum of a tune.

A tune only he would sing.

It continued.

The soft shuffle of feet behind her when no one was there. The sudden flicker of candlelight when the air was still. The radio tuning itself to static, then settling on a voice she had not heard in days.

His voice.

“Did you really think I’d leave you all alone, my darling?”

She gasped, the breath stolen from her lungs as cold fingers brushed her cheek.

Not a trick of the mind.

Not a dream.

He was here.

He was with her.

She pressed a hand to her lips, a sob choking its way free. “Alastor?”

His laugh curled around her, warm as the summer nights they had once shared. “Who else would it be, dearest?”

She shuddered. “You—”

“I know.” His voice was teasing, affectionate. “A terrible shame, isn’t it? I had such plans for us. And now look—stuck haunting my own home! How embarrassing.”

She swallowed thickly. “Are you… are you in pain?”

A pause.

Then, softer, “No, my love.”

She exhaled, her body sagging with relief.

If he was still here, still him, then perhaps there was justice yet.

Perhaps the city had not won.

She no longer feared the voices outside, the ones that spat curses at his name.

Let them speak.

Let them call him monster, murderer, devil.

He had been all those things, and more.

And yet, he had loved her.

Was that not proof enough of his humanity?

So she loved him still.

Even in death.

Even in whispers.

Even as she sat alone, her fingers tracing the cool wooden surface of his coffin, her lips parting to hum the song he had so often sung.

The melody drifted through the house, carried by the wind, by the dark, by the presence that lingered just beyond sight.

And somewhere, just behind her ear—

A voice joined in.

Laughing. Loving. Hers.

Always.

[hazbinshusk]

awkward kiss for a husky. Perhaps the reader has never been in a relationship or simply does not know how to kiss. Therefore, this is her first experience.

I tweaked this one a little bit, to make it a continuation of another kiss prompt, but I hope you still like it. combined with a kiss prompt request because they worked so well together. husk's rizz is off the charts here, if I do say so myself.

check out part one (a kiss to the palm of the hand) here.

kiss prompt #39: a tentative kiss

Husk’s paw comes up to curl around your wrist, soft fur and heart-shaped pad pressed against your skin. His voice comes softly, almost… playful. “Your hand is shaking. You okay, doll?”

You nod slowly, your breath caught in your throat.

“Good.” Husk smiles, and your eyes widen as he pulls your hand away, turns his head, and presses his lips to the palm of your hand. “You had me worried there.”

Christ, you didn’t think you could get any more flustered by this damn bartender.

Husk’s claws tease gently against your wrist, his thumb circling the place where your pulse hammers under your skin. You wonder if he can tell, if he can feel its drumbeat, but even as that thought brings a bead of panic into your chest, you don’t pull away.

“You good?” he asks, a baritone barely more than a murmur. The hotel is unusually quiet now that Angel’s gone to bed and even Niffty is no longer crawling around on the hunt for whatever pest she’d declared war on this week, and the silence seems to only make you more aware of the gentle rumble that sounds in the undertones of his voice. In the intimacy of the moment, it makes your mind wander to darker rooms and soft sheets, and you know that flush in your cheeks is growing darker. Husk still has this amused tilt to his lips, softening his features in a way that his usually sarcastic smirk doesn’t. “You still look like you’re about to bolt.”

You swallow, trying to steady your breathing before you reply.

“I’m okay,” you say, smiling through an exhale. “You just… caught me off guard.”

Husk chuckles quietly, lowering your hand to the bar. Your heart jumps into your throat as once again, he doesn’t let go, instead leaving his paw resting over the back of your hand. It’s a soft touch that seems to flirt with both innocent and intimate, and he does it casually, as though it’s a natural touch, thoughtless and uncalculated.

You wonder, if you turn your hand under his, would he let you intertwine your fingers with his?

Your hand doesn’t move.

“Been a long time since I’ve done that to anyone,” he tells you, voice still wonderfully low. He’s leaning over the bar now, not by much, but it still closes so much of the distance between the two of you.

“Since you ki… kissed their hand?” you ask, trying to keep your tone casual. From the way he looks at you, the soft, affectionate laugh he breathes out, you know you’ve failed. That warmth is reflected in his eyes, and it melts the very core of you.

“That too,” he smiles, claws curling around your fingers. He leans forward; something in his expression shifts, and your nerves suddenly rise up to wrap their clawing fingers around your heart. They tug, and you jerk back instinctively. Regret flares as a heat inside you as Husk’s eyes widen and he pulls away. “Shit, I’m—”

He looks fucking horrified with himself, and you stumble over an explanation, an apology, anything to get him to stop feeling that way.

“No! No, don’t… you didn’t do anything wrong, I just—” Husk moves as though he’s going to back away from the bar, to put a more respectable distance between the two of you, and the way his wings curl in against his shoulders, the way his ears fold back, God, it makes your chest tighten. You reach out instinctively, catching hold of his paw. Husk doesn’t pull away, but there’s something painful in his expression.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—” he fumbles for the words for a moment. He lets out this huff of a laugh, short and low and self-deprecating. “Shoulda known, I jus’—”

“I wanted you to!” you blurt out, and your face burns with the admission, your voice a little too loud for the space between you. You lower it hurriedly, your gaze dropping to where your hand is clutching his wrist. “I wanted you to, I just… I panicked. I’m not…”

Husk studies you for a moment, a long moment, before he turns his wrist, pulling it gently out of your grip. But instead of withdrawing it, he curls his claws gently around your fingers, pressing the heart-shaped pad softly into your palm. He doesn’t say anything; he just watches you take a breath, find the words.

“I don’t… have a lot of experience,” you say hesitantly,  focusing on the way his hand looks so big, totally eclipsing yours. His touch is warm, and once again you’re stricken by just how soft his fur is.  “With… anything, really. I wasn’t… I think about kissing you all the time and I just know I’m going to fuck it up, and I—”

“You wanna repeat that for me, ducks?”

Husk’s voice is quiet, but it breaks through your rambling easy enough.

You glance up, taken aback by the interruption. “I—I said I was going to fuck it up. And I’m sorry for—”

Husk actually chuckles. It’s quiet, under his breath, but the sound is warm in a way that some part of you desperately hopes will become familiar despite the way it way its mocking claws into your heart, serrated and sharp. He picks a random bottle off the shelf, takes a drink.

But then he says: “No…”

He draws out the word in a lilting tone, pulling his paw out of your hand and rounds the bar to join you on the other side. Husk takes the barstool beside you; you’ve turned to face him as he’s moved, and when he sits down, his knees bump against yours. It’s a strange, new kind of intimacy, sitting like this, and those butterflies flutter  again.

“The other bit,” he continues, setting the bottle he still holds on the counter beside him. “Say that other bit again.”

“What oth—” realisation hits you, and a you can’t help a tentative smile of your own. “Oh. That.”

Husk’s lips quirk, his tail twitch back and forth by his ankle so the feathers tickle against your leg. “Can I hear it again?”

Is your blood ever going to return to the rest of your body?

“I…” you press your lips together for a moment, but they unfurl with a bashful smile. “I kinda think about kissing you sometimes.”

Husk’s own smile widens. “Sometimes?”

“Shut up,” you mumble, and when Husk rumbles a laugh you reach out to shove his shoulder. He catches your hand before you do, but instead of moving it away, he brings it up to rest on his shoulder. Your fingers curl automatically around his suspender, soft fur tickling at your fingertips. He trails his claws down your arm, and your breath hitches as they move lower, smoothing over your ribs and down to your waist. “Husk…?”

“’m givin’ you the greenlight, ducks,” he says. Your resurfacing nerves must reflect in your expression, because he smirks softly, squeezing your waist reassuringly. “So, no need to fret, alright?”

You nod, your mouth suddenly feeling very dry. You stroke your fingers shakily through the fur of his shoulder, meet his eye, then drop your gaze again as you lose your nerve. Husk snickers and rolls his eyes, reaching out to carefully cup your face in his hand.

He leans in, and this time you don’t pull away, closing your eyes as Husk’s lips meet yours in a careful, hesitant kiss.

send me a prompt and either husk or blitzø

[scentedpocky]

remake of my first ever coydam vid (still trying to learn how to tween :,3

[reachthestars]

LMAOOO

based off a new meme template on Twitter LMAO

[bonesxbows]

Once Upon A Dream - Chapter 4 (Lucifer X Reader)

My Masterlist

In a sleeping beauty-inspired AU, a curse is placed over you when you strike up a deal with Heaven to protect baby Charlie, causing you to lose your memory. You remember nothing once the curse takes over; not your marriage with Lucifer, not the family you had with the two of them, nothing. So when a strange smiling demon offers you a place to stay when you can't remember where 'home' is, you take him up on his offer. 

(WARNINGS)

Heavy depressing themes

Loss of a parent (temporary)

Minor assault - Chapter 3 only

Relationship coercion/manipulation - Chapter 4 and onward

Updates might be a little slower now due to school and everything but I promise I haven't given up on this story! Also wanted to say that this is still mainly a Lucifer X Reader, he's coming back into the picture soon I swear, I'm just pulling some strings behind the scenes for now ;)

Link to Chapter 1

Link to Chapter 2

Link to Chapter 3

Banners by @strangergraphics

It was an awkward-looking building, monstrously tall and squatting on top of a hill, cobbled together from various parts and visibly repaired multiple times. But it had an air of charm to it that you didn’t mind, it seemed…homey. Comforting. Alastor had walked you through the door, arm still linked with yours. 

“Alastor! Sooo glad you're back! We’ve been meaning to look into branching out our recruiting services and we were wondering if…we…could…” A bubbly blonde bounced in front of the two of you but she lost her energy when her eyes landed on you, her whole body coming to a dead stop as her words faltered and died into silence. You could feel the heat rise to your face as she stared you down. 

“A moment, Charlie, if you would. I found this lovely individual wandering the streets and in need of some help. They’re looking for a place to stay, poor thing can’t seem to remember much of anything currently. Surely we have room for them here?” The static surrounding his voice seemed to fill the room. 

She seemed caught off guard by his question, as if she had been locked in a trace staring at you. “Oh…oh! O-of course! Yeah, absolutely! Um…why don’t you show them to one of our empty rooms for now,” she told Alastor, then turned back to you, “and then I can show you around the place after you get settled in? There’s a few others I’m sure you’d like to meet. My name’s Charlie, by the way, but I’m sure you already figured that out.” She smiled, blush adorning her pale cheeks. 

“Wonderful. We’ll catch up soon, then!” Alastor answered before you could, pulling you away from Charlie and towards the grand staircase on the other side of the room. 

You acted fast, twisting your head back and telling her, “It was nice to meet you, Charlie,” as he practically dragged you away. Her name seemed to click off your tongue. Strange. You didn’t know any Charlies. Maybe you had? 

The place was sprawling, twisting hallways that all looked alike, spidering off in all directions. You were grateful Alastor was with you, however creepy he seemed. One wrong step and you could have easily gotten lost here yourself. Your eyes roamed the halls as he guided you, cane clicking against the hardwood as he hummed a tune. Crimson red wallpaper lined every wall, adorned with a print of off-color snakes, apples, and wings. There seemed to be tacky circus decor everywhere; decades-old if the layers of dust were to speak. This place was odd, and even with your stunted memory you could remember a lot of strange places around Hell, but this one took the damned cake. 

“Here we are, your new room!” He opened the door, revealing a quaint little hotel room, set with what you had expected; a bed, dresser, desk, and a small armchair. “It’s a modest little setup, I admit. If you’d like, I’d be happy to help fetch you some things to make it more of your own. All you need do is ask.” He leaned his back against one side of the door frame, ears brushing the top of the framing with his cane outstretched in front of him, as you curiously roamed the room. He sounded sincere but that smile was still so…off-putting. 

“Thank you, Alastor, I’ll…consider it. I’d like a moment, alone. Please.” You plopped down on the bed, mentally exhausted. Well, your bed now, you supposed. 

“Hm. Very well! I’ll let Charlie know you’ll be down shortly, then.” And with that he disappeared, sinking into a black cloud of smoke and vanishing through the floor. Your door was still wide open, but you didn’t care, flopping backwards against the mattress and sighing. Your hands smacked against your face, covering your eyes as your whole expression scrunched up in frustration. This whole situation was more than you could handle. Tears burned underneath your eyelashes but you forced them back, anger replacing the despair. You felt a lot of things, but feeling sorry for yourself would not be one of them. 

A sniffle broke through your barricades anyway. 

This shit was hopeless. 

“Are you…doin’ okay?” You heard a voice call out, a knock reverberating off of the wood of your door as they spoke. You shot up, spooked, and pulled your knees up to your chest, curling into a ball against the headboard of your bed. “Woah, hey, sorry, didn’ mean to scare ya. You just…seemed like you coulda used a friend.” He held up his arms in peace, all…four…of them, as he walked into your room, still staying a good distance away from you on the bed, though.

“Sorry, it’s been…a really long day.” You relaxed a little, lowering your guard. This demon was different, far different than everyone else you had met today. He was dressed femininely, all pink and short hems, long spidery legs accentuated by tall boots. But his smile was kind, the metropolitan accent rolling off his tongue in a way that put you at ease. 

“Sure looks like it. You’re new, right? Neva seen your face round before.” He sat on the very edge of your bed, still conscious of giving you space. 

“Yeah, I…I just arrived today.”

“You got a name, sugar?” 

“It’s…” You hesitated, debating if you could trust this demon with the truth of your situation. He seemed sincere enough. “I don’t know, actually. I can’t remember.” 

He leaned back on all four of his arms, his eyes widening as he processed what you had said. But eventually he closed them for a moment as he nodded his head; a look of sympathy. “Memory problems, huh? I can understand that. Name’s Angel Dust, though you can jus’ call me Angel, sweet cheeks.” He winked playfully and you couldn’t help but stifle a small laugh. He was adorable, in an over-the-top eccentric sort of way. “Charlie show ya around yet? Meet the rest of the bunch stayin’ here?” 

“Not yet. I stopped here for a moment first to…catch my bearing, I guess. Didn’t seem to help as much as I’d hoped, though I appreciate you trying to help, Angel.” Your shoulders slumped, but there was a small smile on your face as you thanked the spider. 

“Course, sugar. Wan’ me to walk you down to the lobby? This place can be a fuckin’ maze if you’re not used to it.” 

“I’d like that, Angie.”

He beamed at the nickname, golden tooth shining in his sharp toothy grin. 

When the two of you made it down the stairs you knew you were in for a long night. The patrons of the hotel were sitting around in sofas and armchairs in the foyer, surprisingly only six of them, and they were a colorful bunch even from afar. 

Alastor and Charlie, whom you had met earlier, along with a fluffy-looking winged cat, a peculiar woman with a missing eye, an anxiously jittering snake, and a tiny cyclops girl who was perched atop Alastor’s head, tiny hands busy stringing dead roaches together on a string. As soon as Alastor saw you descending the stairs next to Angel his face creased and his smile became strained. He picked up the girl off of his head as he stood up, placing her down where he had been sitting. She hadn’t seemed to notice. 

“Ah, there you are dear! We were beginning to wonder when you would grace us with your presence again.” Alastor’s voice carried twice as much static than usual as he walked over to you. Out of the corner of your eye you caught Angel grimacing, but you couldn’t tell if it was out of fear or disgust. You hadn’t been around him long enough to know. 

It had sounded almost sarcastic to you, until Alastor grabbed your hand gingerly and placed a gentle kiss onto your knuckles. The gesture sent heat straight to your face. 

Before anyone else had time to react to the strangely loving gesture he had grabbed your hand and led you over to the circle of furniture, taking a seat next to the small girl he had placed on the couch earlier and pulling you down to be next to him, not giving you any other option of whom you could have chosen to sit by. 

It was disorienting at first, being manipulated like a doll, but once you settled into a comfortable position you realized everyone’s eyes were on you. Your eyes widened and then fell to the floor, the stained carpet suddenly a lot more interesting than the people in front of you. Anxiety thrummed through your veins as you shifted uncomfortably under the group’s gaze. 

“It’s rude ta stare, ya freaks.” You heard Angel speak up, breaking the aggressive silence. He was sitting across from you, lanky legs outstretched almost to the point of touching yours, and your eyes flicked upwards towards him at the sound of him defending you. You mouthed a silent ‘thank you’ to him, grateful for the rescue, and he nodded in return. 

“Would you like to introduce yourself? And we can share about ourselves too, get to know each other better!” Charlie exclaimed, a beaming smile on her face as she gestured a pointed finger between you and the group. You heard the winged cat grumble in the corner after her statement. 

“Well, I, um…I’m having memory issues, I guess? Can’t remember my name, can’t seem to remember much of anything, really. That’s why I came here. I’m looking for help to fix…whatever this is.” The words had started to tumble out but you eventually put your train of thought on a coherent track. The reactions around the room were mixed. 

“We’ll help in any way we can! Though we don’t specialize in that sort of thing here. We’re more…rehabilitation focused.” Charlie had seemed the most reactive to your disclosure, her face shifting from shock to sadness to understanding to sympathy within seconds. 

“If I become too much trouble I have no problems with finding a place elsewhere to stay.” You told her, giving her a nod of your head confidently. You refused to be a burden on these people, even if you had just met them. You weren’t incapable of fending for yourself. 

“Nonsense, there’s plenty of room here for you to stay for however long you’d like. Though we will need some way to address you, of course. Can’t have you running around this place without a proper name.” Alastor shot your words down and threw an impossible task at you all in one breath. He had leaned back into the couch, his body tilted towards you, arms outstretched and leaning against his cane propped in front of him on the floor. 

His smile seemed to mock you. A name? Where were you supposed to get a name from? Your mind was a mess! 

“Um…”

You wracked your brain for something, anything. There had to be some memories left, buried underneath the layers of fog. Your brow furrowed as you weaved your way through your subconscious, getting lost in thought. It was mostly static, blips of scenes and half-finished faces, all of which would flit away before you could focus. But there was one that kept resurfacing, scratching at the back of your mind. It was fuzzy, but it was there. A blurred-out face, someone important, calling you by a name. 

“Ducki. I'd like to be called Ducki.” 

They had all been arguing with Alastor, apparently, while you were lost in thought, but their attention snapped to you once you spoke. 

“That’s a weird name!” The little girl exclaimed, speaking for the first time that evening, her hands flying into the air and showing off her now-finished dead roach garland. 

“Nifty!” Someone scolded her. 

“If that’s what you’ve chosen then Ducki it shall be,” Alastor said, supporting your choice. 

The group fell into casual conversation after that, chatting with one another, and you, about anything and everything. Though there was a sense of nagging crawling through your skin as you talked with the other residents. It was persistent, and you couldn’t place your finger on the reasoning, until you scanned the room, tired of the feeling and desperate to find the source. 

Charlie’s eyes had been boring into you the entire time.

To be continued in Chapter 5...

Taglist - Let me know if you would like to be added!

@kyo-kyo1 @voxslays @the-enderwolf-princess @fangthesandwing @hayamie @qardasngan

[hishumanbellestories]

Whispers from the mirror.

An impossible love story between reader and Alastor, who is an omnipresence.

The night was enveloping the room in its inky pall, and the dim light of the oil lamp flickered like a hesitant heart. Deborah sat before the mirror, her hands clasped on her knees, her breathing light as an autumn sigh.

He was there.

She felt him before she saw him. A shiver down her spine, the shadow that lengthened on the walls. Then, slowly, the image became clear:

Alastor, with his sharp smile and eyes that shone an unnatural crimson, watching her from the other side of the glass.

«Good evening, my dear», his voice was a mischievous song, a whisper that made the air around her vibrate.

Deborah swallowed, raising her hand as if to touch him, but her fingers only met the cold reflection of the mirror. Always like this. Always far away. Always condemned to this cruel distance.

«Why did you come back?», she whispered. Alastor tilted his head, the smile still there, but something deeper danced in his eyes.

Sadness?

Regret?

No, it was...

Desire.

«Because I could never stop looking at you», his voice dropped, more intimate, sharper. «Not even if I wanted to».

Deborah closed her eyes for a moment, trying to hold back the grip in her chest. They couldn’t touch. They couldn’t have each other. And yet, every night, he returned, appearing in the reflections, in the shadows, in the whispers of the wind. «This is torment», she whispered, opening her glistening eyes. «Are we destined to desire each other without ever touching?».

Alastor laughed, a laugh that vibrated like an ancient melody. «My dear, impossible love is the most fascinating of all».

Deborah leaned back in her chair, staring at the man she could never hold. «What if I wanted to break this bond? What if I wanted to… forget?».

Silence fell like snow on a winter field. For the first time, Alastor’s smile faded. He stepped forward, closer to the glass until his presence filled every corner of the room.

«You could never», he said, his voice a whisper of love and condemnation. «Because I am part of you, as you are part of me».

Deborah looked down, knowing he was right. That she would look for him everywhere, always, even when the world told her to stop.

And so, they stood there, separated by the thin line of the possible and the impossible, lovers divided by fate but bound by a love that no barrier could ever break.

[mcntsee]

me when I reach the angst part of the angsty fic that I specifically chose for the angst

[hazelfoureyes]

Okay but writing Val as being possessive even in his sleep was just fucking perfect

Hazbin Characters + How They Sleep

Pairing: Alastor, Lucifer Morningstar, Charlie Morningstar, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Husk, Adam, Vox, Valentino x Reader

Tags: sfw, cuddles, literal sleeping together, wings, tail shenanigans, horns, possessiveness, kissing, established relationship

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: Idea I had while talking with @massivementalitynut. had to write it because the idea wouldn't leave me alone.

Alastor begins with sleeping on opposite sides of the bed but as your relationship progresses he allows you to get closer and closer. But not to fully cuddle with him unless he initiates it. The most he will allow you to do is hold his hand while you sleep. Anything else must be on his terms.

Lucifer always wraps his wings around you like they're a huge fluffy blanket. Since he's a bit touch starved right now he is very clingy in his sleep, always seeking you out and kissing you lazily. Actually prefers to be the big spoon when sleeping because he never knows when his horns might pop out, so it's safer for you.

Charlie wraps her tail around your thigh when you go to bed. It's a possessive gesture that she used to apologize for many times until you told you that you like knowing she thinks of you as her beloved. Since then she's never shied away from it, even using her tail to pull you in closer when you have, in her mind, gone to far away on the bed, even though you never do go that far.

Vaggie fought against being the little spoon when you slept together. She had a reputation to uphold and she was worried that you might make fun of her if she acted too cute, little did she know that her cuteness was actually one of her greatest weapons. Eventually she did accept it but she still kept her spear near by and her arms tightly locked around your middle.

Angel Dust sleeps on his back, head turned away from you but always has two arms thrown over you. He wants to be able to get you close if he wants to and doesn't mind if you end up on top of him and using his chest floof as a pillow. Why not let you do that when both of you know that he is much softer and better then the pillows you do have, and this pillow will also kiss you any time you want.

Husk never holds back a purr when you have your arm thrown just below his wings, scratching his back. It's rare that he shows you his stomach while he sleeps but that's not your fault, he has to trust you a bit more first. But just the fact that he's letting you hear him purring and isn't denying it is a huge step in your relationship and shows the amount of trust that he already has in you.

Adam takes op the whole bed as his wings fan out and push you off. He yawns like he's bored when you complain about his sleeping habits and really doesn't feel like getting into an argument over it. Eventually he does tell you to get on top of him, in a kind of dismissive tone but then as soon as you are on top of him he grabs you and holds you close to him, so you don't fall again.

Vox doesn't need that much sleep actually but he likes the idea of having you close to him while he does. In fact he can sleep in his chair, with the cables charging him up faster and you sitting in his lap while you wait for him. Occasionally his screen with flicker back on, eyes unfocused for a bit until they land on you and he grins, giving you a quick kiss and telling you he's almost done.

Valentino cocoons you with his wings, almost trapping you against his body, in his bed, in his arms. Kissing you and making you gasp early in the morning is the best way for him to fully wake up and get ready to start his day. His four hands are always touching you in some way, one holding your hand, one on the back of your head, one around your waist, and one on your thigh.

[midascrow]

I love him so much

insta: Midas.S.Crow

[fromduck]

Me with you guys simping over hot men

[multi-fandom-imagine]

ミ★: Lucifer Morningstar giving you oral.

A/n: I said it was gonna happen so here it is.

It wasn't Lucifer's fault that he fell for you, you were so sweet, so kind to Charlie that it just happened. He was over the moon knowing that you felt the same way, I mean it's not like he knew you were Adam's wife...ex as you would often correct him given that the angel was the one that sent you to hell.

Though it was how you told him that you never had a real orgasm, that Adam refused to even go down on you. He knew that he had to fix that, he was going to make you scream his name.

Hovering over you, Lucifer ran his tongue over his lips. You looked so good, so beautiful, from your soft curves, the way your skin glowed in the dim light, it was a vision that never failed to captivate him.

As Lucifer shifted his body on the bed, he let his fingers trace a path from your collarbone down to the gentle swell of your breasts. His touch was feather light, teasing as a small whimper escaped your lips.

A smirked formed on his lips, his forked tongue poking through his lips as he lowered himself to the edge of the bed. His eyes locking with yours, his voice low and filled with hunger.

"Spread your legs for me, my pretty little angel." His voice was laced with anticipation. "I want to taste you, make you scream my name."

He then delved between your thighs, his tongue eager to please you, his lips and tongue working in tandem to bring you to the heights of pleasure. He devoured you with a hunger, your gasp's and moans only fueling him.

Lucifer's forked tongue gliding across your clit, gently sucking the bud as your nails dug into the sheets.

He was smiling now, couldn't help but feel happy knowing that he was the one giving you pleasure. As he continued to tease and pleasure you, his fingers found his way to your entrance, slipping inside to further intensify the sensations. Lucifer continued to explore you with his mouth, his tongue tracing patterns over your sensitive flesh, his fingers thrusting rhythmically within you.

He relished in the sounds of your pleasure, the way your moans filled the room, spurring him on to push you further towards ecstasy.

He reveled in the taste of you, the way you quivered beneath your touch, your body trembling with each wave of pleasure that washed over you. He was going to commit these sound's to his memory.

And when you finally reached your climax, your body convulsing with pleasure, he held you tightly, his lips pressed against your trembling thighs as he rode out your release. Only when he was certain you had been thoroughly satisfied, Lucifer pulled away, a satisfied smirk gracing his lips.

He could still taste you and god did he already miss taste.

"My dearest" Lucifer's voice filled with adoration. "You are intoxicating as ever, I will make sure you will be treated how you deserved to be treated."

Leaning in, Lucifer nuzzled his nose into your neck. "Rest assured, I will alway's find you attractive. You are mine and I will make sure you are always satisfied."

Feeling warmth creep up your cheeks, you did your best avoid eye contact with Adam as Lucifer clutched you tightly to his chest.

"YOU FUCKED MY WIFE!"

A slow smirk formed on Lucifers lip's as he clutched you tightly to his chest. One hand moving to his lips as he made a v with his fingers. "We did a lot more than fuck."