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michaelluiscostello · 1 month

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Dean Winchester x Male Reader

The amber liquid shimmered under the dim bar lights, catching the melancholy glint in the males forest green eyes. Each swirl of the ice cubes seemed to echo the turmoil within him. He swirled, he sipped, the burn of the whiskey barely registering against the fire already raging in his gut.

He was an island at the mahogany counter, separated from the boisterous sea of patrons by an invisible gulf of solitude. Laughter washed over him like waves, but he remained unmoved, a lone rock weathered by unseen storms. His phone, lay face down, a testament to the silence he craved, the connections he couldn't bear.

The air hung heavy with the scent of spilled alcohol and stale cigarettes. The bartender, a seasoned observer of humanity's silent tragedies, slid another glass Dean's way without a word, a shared acknowledgement of the unspoken burdens carried by those who sought solace at the bottom of a glass.

Dean traced the rim of his glass, mind a labyrinth of swirling thoughts. Was it the weight of a failed hubt, the sting of betrayal, or the hollowness of unimaginable loss that gnawed at him? Each possibility tasted like ash on his tongue.

A bluesy melody drifted from the corner jukebox, a lament that mirrored the ache in his soul. He closed his eyes, letting the music wash over him, a baptism of shared sorrow. In the depths of that shared pain, perhaps, resided a flicker of understanding, a whisper of solace.

Suddenly, a warm hand touched his shoulder. He flinched, startled from his introspection. A man stood beside him, his smile as genuine as the concern in his eyes. "Rough night?" He asked softly.

The brunette hesitated, then met the others gaze. In that shared look, a bridge was built, a connection and understanding between the two men. A understanding of wanted and need that'd never be spoken or acted upon.

A huff escaped past the others lips as he sat on the barstool beside Dean, his hand gesturing towards the bartender for another round of alcohol.

The two men sat in silence, neither saying a word to one another that was until the brunette finally spoke up. "Why are you here?." He grumbled under his breath, earning a husky chuckle from the other.

Their eyes locked once more, Dean's forest green ones staring intently at the other. The male brought the rim of the bottle to his reddened lips, his eyes never leaving the Winchester's. "Couldn't stand by and let my favorite Winchester wallow in self-pity all alone." He whispered, a faint hint of teasing in his words.

Dean sighed, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. His eyes darted down to his half empty glass then back up again, a sigh escaping past his slightly chapped lips. He rubbed his face, contemplating his next actions carefully despite knowing deep down what his mind and body wanted.

The brunettes eyes were glossy as they began to dart around the bar. His mind was running wild, unaware of the man before him inching ever so closer until his hot breath fanned against Dean's cheek. "Let me take you home." The male whispered, his once teasing tone now full of concern.

As the two stepped out of the crowed bar and towards the old impala, it was like Dean's body was being weighed down by the thoughts in his mind. He stopped, hands shoved in his jacket pockets eyes plastered on the old asphalt road beneath his worn boots.

A pair of soft hands cupped the hunters cheeks, as the unmistakable sound of flapping wings flooded his senses. There were no words, none needed to even be said for the angel to understand the eldest Winchester was in pain, the same pain he noted back in the bar.

Dean's body collapsed into the angel, a silent sob shaking his body as warm wings wrapped around his being. "Talk to me Dean, I can't help if I don't understand." The angels voice was claiming, a vast contrast to that of Castiel's monotone voice.

It hurt the angel seeing Dean this way, seeing and feeling his body shake with each silent sob that escaped him. He'd never known the eldest Winchester to be emotional, not like this, not so broken ans vulnerable.

"I feel so alone," Dean finally whispered. "I would die for everyone, but would anyone do the same for me?" His words felt like a stab in the chest, they felt like a desperate cry for help even when he'd never ask that of anyone. "I find myself wondering if these fantasies in my head are better off that way." He mumbled softly.

Dean pushed himself away from the angel, the keys to the impala dangling in his hands as the two stood in silence. After a moment the brunette scoffed, pushing past the other male only to be pulled back into his chest. "Close your eyes Dean."

He knew there was so use struggling, no use arguing with the angel. He'd never had any luck whenever he tried in the past and he knew this was no different, so he did as he was told and his eyes fluttered shut, stuck together by the tears staining his face.

The sudden chirping of crickets and cool breeze against his face, caused Dean to open his eyes and the warm feeling of the angel left his body.

A grassy hill overlooked the town, making it look so small incomparison to everything else. The angel stood looking out towards the horizon, his wings hidden from sight and hands tucked under his arms.

"I would die for you, I would lie for you," he suddenly spoke up, his once calm voice shaky. He turned to face the brunette, tears threatening to spill down his reddened cheeks. "Just tell me what you want Dean, anything and I'll do it." The angel almost pleaded, desperate to help.

A lump formed in Dean's throat, tightening everytime he dare try to speak until barely a whisper escaped. "You, I want you." He muttered, voice breaking as he spoke.

Within a second the heat returned, the angels wings enveloped Dean's entire body, shielding him from the world around him. His soft hands cradled the others stubble covered cheeks, their lips mere inches apart from one another.

The angles hot breath sent shivers down the brunettes spine, his eyes closed with anticipation, a feeling that didn't last long as their lips connected in a slow passionate kiss.

Dean mentally battled his own wants and needs that pushed their way into the front of his mind. The thoughts of everything he wanted that angel to do to him, flooding in and only worsening those fantasies he spoke of.

The sudden lose of the others lips against his own made the brunette shudder. His eyes fluttered open, the sight before him one he could only dream of.

The angels bare chest, a sight he never thought he'd see. His slim figure covered in freckles in various places, ones even trailing below the hem on his worn jeans and up his neck. His mesmerizing eyes stared longingly at the brunette, his figure slightly towering over him under the light of the full moon.

It was as if the thoughts plaguing Dean's mind had simply vanished, being replaced by the confirmation he wasn't alone in what he wanted, wasn't alone in the desire he craved from the other. His body trembled under the warm touch of the angels finger tips as they pulled up the hem of his shirt, until his own chest was exposed. The contrast between their bodies set Dean's mind on edge in a oddly pleasant way.

The thought of his toned and muscular body laying underneath the slim figure of the angel caused his heart to beat rapidly in his chest.

"What exactly do you want of me Dean?" It was as if the prior conversation was a distant thought now that the two had what they wanted, and that was each other alone and vulnerable without any possible judgment.

The brunette stepped forward, his eyes staring directly into the others. "I need you," he breathed. "I need you to love me." That was all the other needed to hear, before capturing Dean's lips in another kiss as his hands gripped at his clothed hips in almost a type of desperation and yearning for the Winchester.

Dean hummed as slow methodical kisses were placed over his exposed skin, his back arching against the cold bark of the pine tree. His hands lazily tangled in the angels hair, occasionally tugging at it when the others lips brushed against his collarbones.

A shudder ran down his spine, his mouth parting as the others tongue trailed up his stomach, stopping just below his jaw. The feeling of the angels lips against his exposed body was everything he wanted, a dream that came a reality that he never wanted to end.

The angel peered up at the other through his long lashes, his hands ghosting over the middle of Dean's back. His lips curled into a mischievous grin, before attaching to the soft delicate skin on the hunters collarbone.

A gasp passed Dean's lips, his head rolling back against his shoulders at the sudden and pleasurable feeling of the other marking his body in bruises and bite marks. The tips of his fingers slid down the angels back, his nails scrapping against his skin leaving marks in their wake.

"Enough teasing angel eyes," Dean grunted, his voice laced with want.

A low growl came from the angel, his hands sliding down the brunettes chest until they landed on the hem of his pants. The two shared a look, neither saying anything just staring into one another's eyes like a silent way of agreeing to what was about to come.

Dean huffed, a shiver running up his body as the night air hit his aching cock. Beads of pre-cum pooled at the tip, slowly running down the underside of his cock.

The angels hands rubbed circles into the hunters thighs, a mischievous smirk playing his lips as his eyes trailed the males body. "Such a handsome man," he purred.

A surprised moan escaped Dean's mouth, his head shooting back against the cold bark of the pine tree at the sudden warmth around his cock. His chest heaved up and down, his hands gripping the angles hair, instinctively pushing the others head down against his now twitching cock.

Moaning, the male rested his hands against the Winchester's thighs, his eyes closed as he began to bob his head up and down, using his tongue to lick the salty pre-cum that continued to leak.

The brunette couldn't stop the low stream of grunts that fell from his lips at the tightness of the angels throat around him. His hips bucked forward, shoving his full length into the others throat. Dean huffed, moaning the others name as they continued to bob their head at a steady pace, occasionally speading up each time the brunette bucked his hips forward.

Dean's hands fell from the angels hair as the male pulled away with a satisfying 'pop' as he pulled away. A string of saliva mixed with the salty pre-cum hung from the males bottom lip, his eyes stared longingly at the Winchester as his lips curled into a smirk.

His hands reached down towards the button of his own jeans, slowly pulling them off to tease the brunette who let out a hum of approval at the sight before him. The angel tossed his pants aside, his erect cock outlined in his tight boxers.

Dean's eyes closed and with a quiet whistle of the wind mixed with the soft sound of wings, the brunette felt the familiar leather of baby's seats against his bare back. "Cheeky fucker," he hummed, a deep chuckle following close behind.

"Isn't this what you wanted Dean?" The angel purred. His body was positioned between the brunettes thighs, his hands running up and down the sensitive skin of Dean's thighs as he waited patiently for an answer. He slowly lowered his head, his lips ghosting over Dean's before capturing them in a soft kiss.

Their lips moved in sync with one another's, the only sound coming from their soft breathing and incoherent whimpers. Both men pulled away, their chests heaving up and down as they caught their breath.

"Just be gentle." Dean breathed in a hushed tone.

The angel hummed as he pecked the hunters lips. His hands rested against the brunettes inner thighs, slowly moving them apart. His lips curled unto a smile as he positioned his body on top of the hunter. He removed his boxers, tossing them onto the floor of the impala. He let out a groan as the cold air hit his twitching cock.

Pre-cum leaked from the tip, slowly running down the underside of his cock and pooling at the base. He grabbed his aching cock, using his hand to spread the pre-cum over the entire length before slowly pushing into Dean.

Dean's head shot back, his face contorting into a grimace of pain as his whole body tensed. His breath hitched, getting stuck in his throat as he tried to focus on something other than the stinging pain he was feeling.

"Look at me Dean," the angel purred. His hands massaged the hunters hips in a attempt to sooth the pain as he continued to slowly push in.

The brunette wrapped his arms around the males shoulders, pulling him down and into a kiss. Tears welled in the corner of his eyes, slowly running down his reddened cheeks. "Shit," he whispered against the others lips. His body trembled under the angel as his cock fully slipped inside him, causing a warm feeling in his gut.

Dean put a hand on the others chest as he began to slowly thrust into him. Moans began to spill from the Winchester's mouth, his body trembling with each thrust of the others cock into his body.

The impala was filled with the sound of both men's moans, along with the sound of skin hitting against skin. The air was heavy and the windows began to fog. Both men's body's glistened with sweat and strings of pre-cum that stuck to their bodies.

The angel huffed, feeling the warmth and tightness of Dean around him. Hearing Dean's voice sent him over the edge, his thrusts becoming harsher and faster, each one hitting the brunettes prostate repeatedly.

"F-fuck," Dean whined. "I'm....I'm gonna cum," he breathed. His body trembled and cock twitched as he felt closer to his climax with each thrust.

The angels thrust became sloppy as the knot in his stomach began to loosen. "Me too Dean," he grunted.

Both men leaned into a sloppy kiss, Dean's back arching as the other hit his prostate, both men cumming and moaning each others names against their lips.

Dean's body went limp as the male above him continued to thrust into him until both men road out their highs. As the angel pulled out, Dean couldn't help but chuckle to himself as he felt the male collapse against his chest with a huff.

"I love you, Dean Winchester." He whispered in that same soft tone as before. Hearing that filled the brunettes stomach with butterflies and feeling he hadn't felt in a long time, comfort.

"I love you too."

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michaelluiscostello · 1 month

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Homelander(Anthony Starr)x Male Reader

A young male steps out of his clothes, his bare feet sending chills across the cold floor. He grabs a towel from the rack hanging crookedly on the back of the door, its threadbare surface rough against his skin. He turns on the water, wincing as a rusty groan echoes through the pipes before a sputtering spray erupts from the showerhead.

He waits, counting silently under his breath as the water heats up. The minutes tick by, each one stretching into an eternity of anticipation. Finally, the scalding water begins to mingle with the cold, sending wisps of steam curling around the chipped porcelain walls.

He steps into the shower, letting out a sigh of relief as the hot water cascades over his tense muscles. He lathers up with cheap soap, the acrid scent filling the small space. He scrubs away the grime of the day, the memory of his dead-end job and the gnawing hunger in his stomach momentarily forgotten under the soothing torrent.

As the hot water washes over him, the male allows himself to close his eyes. He pictures himself somewhere else, someplace far removed from this dingy apartment. He imagines a pristine beach, the turquoise water lapping at his toes, the warm sun drying his skin. He breathes in the scent of salt and seaweed, the sound of crashing waves washing away the city's din.

But the dream is fleeting. The scalding water begins to cool, and the harsh reality of his situation seeps back in. He opens his eyes to the peeling paint and cracked tiles, the chipped showerhead spewing its meager spray.

He finishes his shower quickly, the cold air sending goosebumps prickling across his skin. He steps out, wrapping himself in the scratchy towel. He looks at his reflection in the fogged-up mirror, seeing not the sun-kissed beach bum of his daydream, but a skinny kid with tired eyes and haunted shadows under his cheekbones. He sighs, a gust of steam swirling around him like a fleeting wisp of hope. He knows he needs more than a hot shower to escape his reality. But for now, it's enough. It's a small victory, a stolen moment of warmth in the cold grip of his circumstances. And maybe, just maybe, it's the first step towards something better.

There was a tense silence throughout the bathroom, broken only by the dripping water from the showerhead and throaty cough coming from behind the young male. The males tired eyes peered at the man from the mirror, a low groan escaped past his slightly parted lips as he hung his head low. A pair of cold gloved hands held tightly onto his waist, the feeling of the scratchy towel no longer there instead replaced with the feel of fabric pressed against his back.

Blue eyes stared blankly at the mirror and the reflection of the younger male. The blonde's eyes bore holes into the youngers naked body as his cold hands trailed down the others outer thighs. His thumbs rubbing circles into the others hips, causing a shudder to run down the young male's spine.

"John," the younger huffed. He rolled his head back, letting it fall against the older man's shoulder as he pressed his clothed erection into the others lower back.

John smirked, the crease lines on his face becoming even more noticeable as he did. He leaned down, his chin resting against the males shoulder his eyes still fixated on the mirror. "I've been thinking about you," he breathed a slight chuckle following. He pressed his erection against the males ass, rubbing it up and down while groaning.

The younger rolled his eyes, pushing John aside and grabbing the towel that'd fallen from his waist. He didn't say a word, silently laughing to himself at the blonde's open mouth expression to being brushed off so easily. "And I'm sure you've been thinking about plenty of women too," he commented, earning a low growl from the man now beside him.

The sound of his wet feet against the worn and scratched wooden floor echoed throughout the quiet apartment, quickly followed by the sound of heeled boots clicking against the floor. John's gloved hand shot forward, gripping tightly onto the males wrist and pulling his body back against his chest. "None can satisfy me the way you do," he growled.

His lips pressed harsh kisses along the males exposed shoulders, eventually stopped just below his ear. The blonde's tongue trailed down the others neck, then back up before attaching to his neck and beginning to suck at his soft skin. His hands gripped tightly onto the youngers hips, sure to leave bruises in their wake.

The male let out a shaky breath, his hands gripping onto John's gloved ones. His eyes closed tightly feeling the older's lips against his skin.

"I only want to hear you say one thing, one word," he rasped. "And that's yes."

John pulled away, his blue eyes staring intensely into the younger males as they fluttered open. "Is that understood?" He hummed, leading the male towards the dimly lit bedroom.

"Yes," he whispered, his tone soft.

A sliver of light, thin as a fingernail, leaked through the cracked blinds, barely grazing the chaos that reigned. Clothes, moldered in heaps on the floor, forgotten. Empty coffee mugs, stood sentinel on the nightstand, surrounding pieces of crumpled paper.

John smirked as he pushed the male onto the bed, waisting no time in getting undressed and discarding his uniform among the heaps of clothes. He stood there, the light reflecting his toned body and erect cock. The blonde ran a hand through his hair as he crawled on top of the other who'd thrown the towel off, allowing his own erection to show.

He sucked in air, feeling the warmth of the man's cock against his own. His hands rested above his head, eyes stared half lidded at the blonde on top of him. "Do you want this?" John asked, a devilish smirk crossing his lips.

He knew saying 'No' wasn't a option, and even if he didn't want this he had no choice in his words. "Yes," he muttered.

The blonde's hand gripped tightly onto his throat, squeezing just hard enough to cause the other to gasp. "Good boy," he purred. He slowly leaned down, his lips trailing sloppy hickies down the males body. His tongue grazing the youngers perked nipples as he continued to squeeze his neck.

John's body pressed against the male below him, their erections flush with one another for a brief moment. The blonde moved his hand from the others neck into his hair, yanking it back as he stood. "On your knees," he demanded in a low and commanding tone. He stood at the end of the bed, his throbbing cock resting in his hand as he waited impatiently for the younger to follow his demands.

As the male got on his knees he looked the blonde in his eyes, a cocky smirk plastered on his lips as the man yanked his head down in a harsh manner. He crawled forward, his eyes now fixated on the man's cock as beads of pre-cum pooled at the tip and slowly leaked down the base. No words were exchanged between the two as the younger took John's tip in his mouth, teasingly swirling his tongue around it as painfully slow as possible. A low growl sounded from the blonde as he thrusted his hips forward, groaning as the tip of his cock hit the back of the males throat causing him to gag at the feeling. John's lips curled into a mischievous smirk as he kept the males head in place as he continued to gag and claw at the man's hips. He rocked his hips back and forth, moans escaping in a steady stream past his lips at the tightness of the male's throat.

The younger pushed himself back, coughing and gasping for air which only made John cackle at the desperation. "I know you like my cock down your throat," he hummed. "Don't you?" John stepped closer, tightly gripping onto the younger's hair and once again yanking his head back. He didn't even gibe him a chance to answer before shoving two fingers into his mouth and forcing it open. He watched as pools of spit drippled down the males quivering chin as he tried to answer the blonde's question. "Y-yes," He chocked out. The blue eyed male hummed, retracting his fingers and watching the string of saliva stretch. He yanked the male's head down pressing the tip of his cock against his lips, before forcing them open and once again harshly thrusting into his mouth.

Groans mixed with soft whimpers and gurgling filled the room as the blonde continuously rutted his hips forward, the tip of his cock hitting the back of the youngers throat each time. John closed his eyes, his head rolling back as he cock began to twitch in the younger's mouth with each thrust. "Just like that baby," He purred. Tears cascaded down the younger's reddened cheeks, his eyes shut tightly. His nails dug into the blonde's hips leaving behind scratch marks and indents.

John's head shot back, his mouth hung open as he thrusted once more finally releasing into the back of the younger's throat. He kept rutting his hips forward, face fucking the male trough his own orgasm. He chuckled as he pulled away with a satisfying 'pop' watching as beads of cum drippled down the side of the others lips. "Swallow," the blonde demanded. He gave a approving smile as the male swallowed his cum while trying not to gag on the salty taste. "Good boy," he growled.

The younger wiped his mouth as he caught his breath after a moment. That moment was ruined the second the blue eyed male's face got closer. "Beg," he muttered. He walked around the side of the bed, crawling on it and behind the other. His hands roamed the other's trembling body, teasing the most sensitive parts. "I said beg," he grunted.

The male leaned his body back against the blonde's feeling his still erect cock pulsating against his back. "Please," he whispered. "Please John...I need you, I need you to touch me." He begged, his voice hushed as he spoke. A grunt escaped his mouth feeling the males rough hands squeeze his ass and neck. "I beg you to fuck me, fuck me hard, fuck me till I can't speak. You can do whatever you want with me, please, please just fuck me." He moaned feeling a finger rub over his aching tip, smearing the beads of pre-cum.

John quickly switched their positions, pressing the other's face into the matrass while keeping his ass raised in the air. He brought his hand back, then harshly back down against he males ass causing the other to let out a choked sob at the sudden stinging sensation. His hands gripped onto the bed sheets, bunching them in his fists as John got directly behind him while tightly gripping his ass and spreading it.

A chocked scream escaped the male pressed against the bed at the sudden and painful burning sensation as John thrusted into him. He didn't stop till he completely bottomed out, his chest now flush with the arch in the younger back. He continued to teasingly rock his hips back and forth, while grunting in the others ear. The blonde pulled out to the point just the tip was still inside, before thrusting back in effectively hitting the male's prostate and earning a high pitched whimper. "God you're so tight," he grunted.

The sound of skin hitting skin mixed with the pleasured moans of the two men as the blonde began to thrust in and out at a fast and rough pace, echoed throughout the room. With each thrust the tip of the male's twitching and throbbing cock hit the other prostate, causing his eyes to roll into the back of his head and pools of drool and spit to soak the bed cover below them. "C...cumming," the male moaned. His back arched and cocked twitched under neath him as he reached his orgasm, but even then the blonde kept at his pace.

He pulled out, flipping the male over and propping his legs up on his shoulders before thrusting inside him once again. "You take my cock so well, such a little slut," he growled.

The male whined as he lazily gripped onto the older male's biceps. His body tightened around John's already aching cock as he continued to thrust, surely leaving bruises by the force he was using. The younger's back arched off the bed, feeling the other's cum fill him as he continued to pound into him at a relentless pace. John threw his head back, his hand reaching forward and squeezing the base of the younger cock as it began to twitch. "Not yet baby," he grunted.

Pulling out, the blonde got off the bed and opened the curtains to the bedroom, smirking at the people passing by. He opened the window, before turning and yanking the male off the bed and pressing his body against the opened window. "Call out my name," John huffed. He thrusted in, groaning at the sudden tightness around his pulsating cock.

The youngers legs gave out beneath him as the male behind him began pounding into him. "John~" He cried out as a few people passed by below them, though didn't seem to notice. John's rough hand gripped the other cock, jerking him off in time with his thrusts, getting off on the other calling out his name each time he hit his prostate.

Both male's back arched as they orgasmed once more, John's cum dribbling down the insides of the other legs as his own coated the windowsill in front of them. The blonde kept going, chuckling as the younger began to have dry painful orgasms, each time John himself came inside him.

John huffed, his blue eyes glaring at the male who laid motionless on the matrass. He pulled his boxers on as he watched his own cum form a small puddle on the bed as it continued to leak from the other's ass. He sighed, running a hand through his hair and cursing as himself as he went to pick the male up and bring him to the bathroom. The blonde cleaned the younger up, along with the bed and windowsill before laying him down. He stood over the bed, looking between his discarded suit and the sleeping male before ultimately getting himself dressed.

"Till next time," he mumbled.

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michaelluiscostello · 1 month

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Lucifer Morningstar x Male Reader

The bass was a physical force, vibrating in his chest. Strobe lights painted the crowd in fractured bursts of neon, blurring faces into a pulsing, anonymous mass. A male sat alone, perched on the edge of a velvet booth, a half-empty beer sweating its condensation onto the sticky table. The nightclub wasn't his scene, not anymore. He used to revel in the chaos, the shared energy a drug he chased until dawn. Now, it felt like a foreign language, the laughter too shrill, the music a relentless assault.

He nursed his drink, watching the parade of smiles flicker past. Couples swayed close, limbs entangled, oblivious to the world. Groups huddled, jokes erupting in bursts of laughter. A lone woman danced like nobody was watching, eyes closed, lost in the rhythm. A pang of envy shot through him, followed by a dull ache of loneliness.

He wasn't supposed to be here. Tonight was supposed to be with them, celebrating a closed case that broight him nothing but pain. The reservation at the quiet Italian place, the whispered jokes - all replaced by this sensory overload. Instead, he sat alone, their absence a palpable weight in the booth.

He pulled out his phone, the screen filled with missed calls and texts. Many from his coworkers asking where he was and why he hadn't shown up. He scrolled through, each text, trying to ignore the constant incoming calls. He turned his phone off, shoving it into his coat pocket before taking a long swig of his beer.

Unbeknownst to the male, a figure was watching him from the bar, eyeing him up and down as if trying to analyze his every movement. The figure let out a low hum, their fingers tapping against the bar counter top in a slow methodical rhythm. A wave of curiosity overtook them as they continued to stare, completely ignoring the desperate women trying to talk, or the constantly changing music and lights.

The figure stood, their hands reaching up to dust off their sleek black suit as they walked through the crowd and towards the booth. A devilish smirk adorned their sharp features as the sat opposite of the male, clearly catching him by surprise.

Raising a eyebrow, the male went to speak but was quickly shushed by a question. "Tell me, what is it you desire?" The voice was smooth with a clear British accent. It'd caught the man off guard, his contorting into one of confusion as he stumbled over his words. "Excuse me?" He stammered.

The figure chuckled, once again asking the same question and once again getting the same response. "Heh well then, I'm Lucifer Morningstar owner of LUX." Lucifer offered a kind smile, quickly realizing his charm wasn't going to work, the same way it didn't work on detective Decker.

Both men sat in an uncomfortable silence, neither saying anything until the other male spoke. "Lucifer as is the one who follows detective Decker around like a lost puppy?" He chuckled, his tone joking and somewhat playful.

It'd hit Lucifer, this man was a new detective at the precinct, someone he'd only crossed paths with a handful of times in the past. He looked different, he didn't seem as bright and hopeful as Lucifer remembered him being. "And you're the new detective." The other male only nodded as he chugged the last bit of beer in his bottle.

"Yeah, that's me." He whispered. Lucifer could hear the change in tone, hear how it seemed to hurt to say it.

Lucifer cleared his throat, running a hand through his jet black hair before standing. "Can I offer a drink? Perhaps in my penthouse?" It didn't take much convincing for the other to agree to what Lucifer had asked, something that surprised the devil considering he thought it'd be much harder.

The two made their way through the crowd and into the elevator, both standing beside one another as the doors closed and the music faded away.

Lucifer stepped into his penthouse once the elevator doors had opened, the male following close behind him. "Nice place." He mumbled, Lucifer only humming in response as he walked towards his home bar.

The devil pulled out a bottle of wine, a bottle of tempranillo he'd been gifted not long ago. He poured two glasses and handed one to the new detective who gladly accepted. "So, detective shouldn't you be celebrating?" Lucifer leaned against the counter, his eyes fixated on the detective in front of him.

"I'd rather be drowning in alcohol then celebrate a pity promotion." The was an air of sadness to the males voice, one that left Lucifer wanting to pry despite the feeling he shouldn't.

As the moments past, Lucifer ushered the detective to his couch a glint of curiosity in his eyes. He cleared his throat, setting his drink on the glass coffee table before turning his attention towards the other male who'd already done the same the moment they sat down. "I maybe the devil darling, but I still care when people hurt," Lucifer hummed. "What's the matter?"

It was as if those simple yet thoughtful words flipped a switch inside the detective, his once cold demeanor suddenly shattering into a million pieces. His eyes held emotions only he could understand. "You ever feel like people only care because of who those close to you are?" His voice was soft as if it was made of porcelain.

Those words dug deep into Lucifer's heart, a feeling he knew well. "At first, but I've made a name for myself, separated myself from them." He flashed a small smile.

The detective leaned back against the back of the couch, his head resting against it as he stared at the ceiling. Lucifer sat closer, mimicking the others movements as he waited for him to speak.

It was quiet for awhile, both basking in the alcohol and absence of the dim lights along with the sudden yet welcomed storm outside. The crackle of lighting lit up the detectives face, allowing Lucifer to catch a glimpse of the fresh tears running down his reddened cheeks.

Both men turned towards each other, their faces mere inches apart. "The only reason I'm here is because of my father, I never wanted this damn job.....or the decline its brought me." The detective mumbled, his voice breaking.

Lucifer hesitated, his mouth parted slightly before finally speaking. "Then tell me darling, what is it you truly want?" It was clear it wasn't all because of what was just said, it was something deeper, something Lucifer could possibly give.

The male took a deep breath, somewhat realizing what the devil was asking. "Temporary bliss......a moment to forget everything, someone to help me forget what this job has done to me."

Lucifer knew what he meant, it was clear the moment he'd seen the pain in the detectives eyes when they first locked.

A look was shared between them, before Lucifer pressed his lips against the detectives. The salty taste of tears stinging his tongue.

The kiss was broken as Lucifer stood, offering a hand to the other male and leading him towards the bedroom, their clothes being discarded in various places on the way.

Lucifer crawled over the detective, the dim light of the room illuminating their faces. His large hands roamed the others body, his fingers tracing an old scar causing shivers to run down the others body. It wad quiet, but it was a comforting silence as the devils hands roamed the others body, familiarizing himself with each imperfection he could find and feel under his touch.

Their lips moved in sync until they parted for air, only to return to the intimate bliss of their lips against one another's. Their body's lay flush against one another, their erections rubbing against each others in a low rhythm.

The detective arched his back at the feeling of Lucifers hands against his inner thighs. The silence now replaced with the soft moans from both men as Lucifer slowly pushed himself in.

Their moans filled the dim room along with the soft patter of their skin against on another's after each slow ans rhythmic thrust from Lucifer.

Lucifer's mind was flooded with the scene before him, the detectives face full of pure pleasure and bliss. It sent chills up his spine hearing his own name melting off the others lips mixed with whines and moans.

Both men moaned as they reached their climax. Lucifer gave a satisfied hum as he stared at the detective below him while pulling out.

The two men laid there silently, both basking in the moment of temporary bliss that enveloped them both. "We should do that more often detective," Lucifer chuckled.

"Who am I to argue with the devil?" The detective chuckled in return.

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