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#one day i will draw Lucy too
pookiecowpoke · 1 month
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I swear he tells himself this every few minutes.
(My first digital art piece in literal years 🥺 I think it turned out pretty good considering I am still getting used to krita and my wacom tablet)
P.s. if the formatting is funky I will try to fix it tomorrow 💀
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syddsatyrn · 4 months
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⛧Devotion is Love with Wings⛧ Chapter One: A Sleepless Sovereign
Ch1 / Ch2 / Ch3 / Ch4
⛧Pairing: - Lucifer Morningstar x Reader
⛧Warnings: Alcohol, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, king x servant, panic attack, heartbreak, happy ending.
⛧Words: 3.3k
⛧Summary: As Lucifer's advisor you are required to assist him with a number of things. That includes his schedule, many chores, and the occasional middle of the night panic attack.
⛧Notes: This is my first Hazbin Hotel fic! I hope you all like it because Alastor is my next victim. I just want to give poor Luci some love, he is such a cutie and he's been through enough! My beta reader is @hellfiremunsonn and we love her for that.
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The sun rises and a soft glow illuminates the kitchen. Faint streaks of dawn get brighter as time goes by, the sky is painted with hues of pink and gold. Every day you wake before him and make his coffee. It was a morning ritual you’ve come to enjoy. The silence allowed you time to think and plan your day. As you fill a cup full of coffee, the smell permeates the air.
You carefully take the cup upstairs on a tray and down a long hallway. The air hummed with a faint scent of luxury. It's grandiose and extravagant manor, with gold trim in the hallway. Apples and angelic wings decorate the molding. Your footsteps echo against the marble floors until you stop at the large double doors. You open the right side of the door quietly. The room is dark, some light peeked through the window, but the long velvet curtains block out most of it.
He's so peaceful, lying there, the silk sheets covering his midsection leave little to the imagination. His messy blonde hair and soft face has always made your heart skip a beat. Soft snores escape his lips, you almost feel bad for waking him up while he’s in such a state.  
“Your majesty?” You finally speak. The King stirs and covers his face with his hands. He lets out a small groan in response.
*It's time to get up, sir.” You say as Lucifer slowly and reluctantly sits up. You hand him his coffee with a smile, he looks up at you with drowsy eyes. 
“Thank you, y/n.” He replied, taking a sip of the warm and bitter drink.  
You start to stroll around his room, picking up clothes that have been tossed and putting them in the laundry basket. Lucifer watches as you pick up his messy room, sipping his coffee occasionally. 
“You don't have to do all that y’know.” Lucifer says, feeling a little guilty about his disorganization. 
“Oh but I do, sir.” You said with a straight face. 
“Y/N, I don't know what I would do without you.” He admits with a soft chuckle. 
You smile, your face turns a little pink but it's hard to tell with the lights off. You walk over to the curtains and draw them open. Lucifer doesn't look too pleased with how bright it is. You walk over to his wardrobe and shuffle through the many different articles of clothing until you find his white suit with red accents. 
“Your daughter called, there are documents you need to look over and you have a meeting this afternoon.” You remind him as you place his clothes on the corner of his large bed.
“Can I just go back to sleep?” Lucifer pleads with you and you let out a small sigh.
“Every day you ask me the same question and every day I tell you the same answer…”
“So that's a no…?” He chuckles softly.
That is correct, your majesty.” You roll your eyes as you leave him to get dressed for the day. 
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The relationship between you two has always been a little strange. You were hired many years ago as a maid for his estate. But after a small while grew to be his right hand, now you’re titled as his “advisor”. You take your job very seriously, everyday you make his coffee, bring him his meals, complete household chores, chauffeur him around, you even attend his meetings for him occasionally. Your entire life is devoted to your King, you felt it was a respectable title. You've worked hard to get to this point, and recognize the power that comes with that. After many years of proving yourself, Hell sees you as an extension of the royal family.
Lucifer had quite a soft spot for you, he offered you a room in his home so you can do your job without the bothersome commute. He pays you well and allows you access to many of his personal assets. The free room and board, along with never having to cook for yourself made it all worth it.
After some time you developed some feelings for him, but you would never admit that. You’re not up to that societal standard. You’ve always told yourself he could have anyone he wanted, which is true. The King of Hell was dashing and charming, but also extremely powerful. Despite all that he doesn't seem to fraternize with anyone, ever since Lilith left, it’s like he's lost that part of himself.
It was time for you to get yourself a cup of coffee and bring his breakfast to the dining hall. After finishing your task you sit down at the dining table and enjoy your coffee. Not long after, Lucifer emerges, dressed, but still looking rather fatigued.
“Did you not sleep well, sir?” You ask and bring your cup to your lips.
“No, I was tossing and turning all night.” He grumbles, the dark bags under his eyes are a dead giveaway.
“Hmm…you’ve been doing that quite a bit more often than usual.” You remark.
“I know! What is up with that? It's ridiculous.” The king says with a huff.
“Ridiculous indeed, sir.”
Lucifer called Charlie on his cellphone, and talked about the Hotel she was running. Charlie says he is due for a visit so you make a mental note to schedule that later. Your mind wanders as he talks on the phone while eating various fruits. The last time Lucifer wasn’t sleeping well he was having nightmares. You remember one awful night in particular, you were up late finishing some paperwork for him when suddenly you hear a scream coming from his room. You rush in and he's curled up in a ball, sobbing. You immediately crawl into his bed to comfort him, he laid his head in your lap and you played with his blonde hair until he fell back to sleep.  
“Y/N…?” Lucifer says and tilts his head slightly. Looks like he finished his phone call while you were lost in thought. You shake yourself from your memories, a pink tint spreads across your face.
“Yes?”
“Something on your mind, my dear?” He asks with a look of concern on his face. 
“No sir, it's nothing.” You assure him. Neither of you have spoken of that night since.
You continue to drink your coffee, Lucifer gives you a skeptical look and continues his breakfast. The day was a very average day. After breakfast Lucifer went to his study to read over some documents and sign a few things. You took his almost empty plate and cup to the kitchen and placed it in the sink for the staff to deal with. You text Charlie with a list of dates to choose from to schedule a visit, reassuring her that you’ll make it happen.
Next is time to clean Lucifer’s room. It's not disgusting by any means, more like cluttered. He tosses stuff on the floor absentmindedly and you always end up tidying the place at some point. Besides, you are the only one allowed in his room, who else is going to do it?
You collect all the empty liquor glasses and place them on a silver tray along with the empty decanter. Making his bed was rather difficult due to it being so large, but you manage like you always do. You tidy up his bathroom, finding more clothes tossed on the floor, you put them in the laundry hamper as well. You leave his room with the silver tray and take it to the kitchen. The staff fill the decanter and give you clean crystal glasses. You return to his room and set the tray on his desk. After that, you take the basket of clothes to the laundry room.
Before you know it, the clock strikes one and you make your way to Lucifer's study. You open the door softly and enter, you set down a small tray with a cup of tea and a plate of cookies on his desk. He picks up the cup and takes a sip, the tea is exactly how he likes it.
“Are you here to tell me I have to attend another one of those annoying meetings?” Lucifer asks in a slightly irritable tone. He spins the chair around to face you, his yellow eyes fixate on yours.
“I’m afraid so, your majesty.” You reply. Lucifer groans and slumps back in his chair. Sometimes he can be a little childish, you cover your mouth to stifle a giggle.
“Y/N, I can’t sit through another one of those meetings. I will literally wilt away into nothing.” Lucifer says, he turns to face you and takes your hand in his. He softly squeezes it, your face turns a little pink as you look down and meet his begging eyes with yours.
“Can you go instead? Pretty please?” You can never resist those eyes and he knows it. Your face softens and you squeeze his hand back.
“Okay, but don't make this a habit.” You say you let go of his hand. Still trying to retain some sort of professionalism.
“Thanks doll, I owe you one.” He says with a warm smile, the same smile that makes your heart skip a beat every single time. You bow and leave him to his work, once you get behind closed doors you let out a long sigh, you truly don't want to attend this meeting either. But it can’t be helped, the show must go on.
You grab your overcoat, cellphone, keys, and meet the driver out front. It didn't take long to arrive at Carmilla’s manor. You have been asked to attend a meeting with the overlords and report back to Lucifer. The guards led you through the manor to a large meeting room, you open the door and it seems everyone is in attendance.
The V’s, Zestial, Alastor, Rosie, Zeezi and Ms Carmilla Carmine herself. You take the empty seat next to Zestial.
“My my, I didn't think Lucifer would send his pet, but Miss Carmine, I thought there was a No Dogs Allowed sign out front?” Alastor immediately starts with the catty behavior. You don't have time for any of this, you need to be home soon to serve supper.
"Your words are like a bad song on repeat. Spare us." You retort with your arms folded. The Radio Demon gives you a sinister stare and you roll your eyes at his half baked attempt at scaring you.
“Please, can we start this stupid meeting? I have somewhere to be.” Velvet says looking at her phone, not paying much attention to anything else. Vox agrees with her and Carmilla begins to speak on various topics.
The meeting felt like it ran longer than expected, it was concerning how we move forward now that exterminations are no longer an issue. They spoke of which towns were hit the hardest by the attack, what kind of ongoing plans they have and how to proceed with caution, for we do not trust the Angels and their hidden intentions. After a while, the conversations started to devolve into personal ones.
“Lucifer will be assisting the Pride Ring as best he can, any requests for aid on his part can go through me for approval. Trust that they will be hand delivered to him in person. The King wants nothing more to provide relief for his people.” Was the last thing you said before getting up and excusing yourself from the meeting, politely.
When you make it back to the car, you let out a sigh of relief. It's finally over, time to head back to the manor. When you returned it was already late into the afternoon. You hang up your coat and head to the kitchen, you pour Lucifer a small glass full of whiskey and ice. Before you put the bottle back in its place you take a quick swig, that meeting was just agonizing. You needed something to take the edge off.
You walk to the study with the glass on a silver tray, as you open the door, she sees Lucifer in his chair, reading.
“Good afternoon, your majesty.” You greet him with a smile and a short bow.
“Ah good, you’re back. How was the meeting?” He asks, genuinely curious. 
“It was…interesting, to say the least.” You reply while handing him the glass. “I can see why you did not want to attend.”
“They are so insufferable, right?” He says and takes a sip. 
“Indeed, sir.” You don't wish to mention Alastor’s comment from earlier, the last thing you need to do is give him something to be cross about.
“Dinner will be ready soon. Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?” You ask politely.
“Oh no, you always do so much. Thank you Y/N.” Lucifer takes another sip of his whiskey.
You dismiss yourself and head down to the kitchen to help prepare dinner for yourself and Lucifer.
Lucifer spins around in his chair and takes a sip of the drink you left him with. He’s trying to hide it but he’s absolutely exhausted. Lately when he’s tried to sleep, memories flood his mind like ghosts of the past. The absence of warmth beside him was a void he could not fill. When he will be free from the torment, he is unsure. But every day he wakes up and there you are, right beside him as always. He knows you try to put off a cold exterior, you’re the king's guard dog after all. You were always one to never indulge your secrets but he knew a few things about you that no one else did.
The night you held him in your lap it looked as though he had fallen asleep. While you carded your fingers through his hair you whispered “I wish you knew how remarkable I think you are.” He heard you loud and clear. The King always had a space in his heart dedicated to you, but you’re his advisor, consultant, and au pair. How would the world see you both as a couple? It was certainly something that would be looked down upon by most. A bell rings and pulls him from his thoughts, dinner is ready.
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He sits in his usual spot and you always sit on his right side. Dinner was a mix of high grade meats and vegetables. You cut into your food and display proper table manners, Lucifer sneaks glances at you when he thinks you’re not looking.
“I scheduled a time for you to visit your daughter's hotel this Thursday.” You remark and Lucifer nods with food in his mouth.
“Good, I’ve been meaning to visit, I’ve just been so tired lately, and If I’m not tired I’m busy.”
“You need some proper rest, sir.” You state the obvious. You wish there was something else you could do to assist him with this.
“Trust me, if I had the choice I’d be asleep right now, my dear.” He takes another bite, his face looks a little forlorn. Usually you would keep to yourself unless Lucifer would outright say something is wrong, but this is different.
“Is there something wrong, sir?”
“No, it's nothing, Y/N. I’m just tired, I swear.” He says, trying to brush off any depressive feelings. You give him a bit of side eye but decide to let it go. But deep down you knew something was troubling him. It was just a matter of if and when he will tell you. You both continue eating, he tells you about the book he's reading in hopes to clear the melancholy vibe in the room. You sit and listen to him ramble on like any other normal day.
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It was getting late, Lucifer was in his room, drink in hand. Outside, the world slumbered beneath a blanket of stars, oblivious to his pain. With the window open he seeks solace in the cold night air. But the chill only served to remind him of the emptiness inside. He downs the rest of his drinks and sets it on the nightstand. He crawls under the covers and closes his eyes and wraps his arms around himself as he tries to get some rest.
But all he could see is her, walking away, leaving him heartbroken and devastated. A single tear falls down his cheek. He buries his face in the pillow and tries to forget these memories, good and bad. The minutes pass like fleeting shadows, and Lucifer finally starts to fall asleep. But not long after he wakes up in a cold sweat with a scream. His chest heaves and he feels like he can’t breathe, he looks down at his shaking hands.
You were doing your rounds in your silk pajamas, locking doors and shutting windows. You said goodnight to the kitchen staff and headed upstairs. Then suddenly you hear a loud scream come from Lucifer's bedroom, you immediately rush up the stairs to the door and open it.
He’s sitting upright in his bed, knees against his chest, holding his face in his hands. Tears streaming down his cheeks as he recalls the haunting memories. You don't say anything, you quickly sit beside him and place your hand on his back. He immediately pulls you in for a hug, you’re surprised at first but you hug him back. He buries his face in your shoulder, letting out soft muffled sobs. 
“Shhhh…it's going to be okay…I’m here…I’ve got you.” You whisper soft words of reassurance in his ear, he just hugs you tighter.
“I’m so sorry…” He says between sniffles and you start to gently rub his back. You wished there was a way to stop him from feeling so miserable, but all you can do is sit and comfort him for as long as he needs. In the safety of your arms, the remnants of the dream began to dissipate. Your familiar voice and smell provided a soothing counterpoint to the chaos of his mind.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for, my dear.” You say as you pet the back of his head, his face finally emerges from your shoulder and meets your gaze. You gently wipe away any stray tears with your thumb and give him a soft smile. “Tough times don’t last, tough people do, and you’re one of the strongest people I know.” You say just barely above a whisper. 
A small smile appears on his face and you brush away a few stray hairs, glad that your king is feeling a little better. “Is there anything else I can do to make you feel more at ease?”
“I do have one request…But I’m not sure how you’re gonna feel about it.” He says, while looking away, he’s definitely embarrassed by his own question.
“Try me.” You reply, it can’t be that bad, he’s never asked you to do anything you’re not okay with.
“I would really appreciate it if I didn't have to sleep alone tonight…” He finally asks, he blushes a little, unsure if that's even okay to ask. You can't help but also turn a little red, this is absolutely not allowed, but maybe the rules have exceptions in times of crisis.
“Yeah…I can do that.” You agree.
Lucifer’s golden eyes widen and he perks up a bit. “R-Really?”
“Yes, really.” You chuckle softly.
Lucifer crawls back under the covers and opens his arms for you to join him. You crawl over to him and settle in, his arms wrap around you and you lace your fingers with his hand, allowing him to spoon you. His body heat and the chill night air was the perfect combination to lull you to sleep.
“Goodnight Luci~” You say before sleep starts to drag you away from this world. A nickname you lovingly use very rarely. He nuzzles your shoulder and drifts off rather quickly with nothing but a content smile on his face. When you two will admit your feelings for each other is a mystery, but for now, you’re happy just to be his biggest support system. If there's one thing you’ve learned living with Lucifer, it's that devotion in any form, is love with wings.
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woso-dreamzzz · 4 months
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Broken
Wonze x Child!Reader
Summary: You break your arm
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There's not really any other way Lucy can describe you but depressed.
With your arm stuck in a cast, you're severely limited in what you can do and you just kind of trudge after Keira.
The atmosphere in the house has been a bit frosty since the accident and Lucy knows it's her fault. She's the one that wasn't watching you on the climbing frame at the park until after the nasty tumble that had your arm snapping when you tried to put it out to stop your fall.
Keira's right to be pissed off at her but your own bad moods have noticeably worsened everything.
You cry a lot more now and you keep whacking your cast on things that wouldn't usually cause you pain.
"How's baby bear?" Georgia asks at breakfast one morning.
"Sad," Lucy replies sullenly," She can't leave Keira's side for even a minute. I tried to give her a bath yesterday when Kei was on the phone but she just cried the whole time. Her arm's been bothering her too."
Georgia makes a sympathetic noise, head turning to where you and Keira have just walked in.
It's not an uncommon sight now to see you in Keira's arms. You don't want to leave them almost as much as Keira doesn't want you to leave them.
You sniffle a little as Keira sits you in your usual seat between her and Lucy and you stiffly place your casted arm onto the table. What makes it worse, is that it's on your dominant hand so you're struggling a little bit to do everyday things like feeding yourself and drawing.
Lucy loads up your fork and shovels food into your mouth. Your appetite has been affected by your mood so it's always hit and miss how much you're actually going to eat for breakfast so she's hoping to get as much down you as possible before your mood finally catches up with you.
You turn away when you've had enough, pushing your food away and looking over at Keira.
"Bear," Lucy says softly," Don't you want to eat some more? You haven't eaten much."
"No, thank you," You say sullenly, moving to climb into Keira's lap, resting your head on her chest and curling yourself into her body.
Keira sighs as she rises from the table. "I'm going to see if Leah can cheer her up. I'll be back in second."
"Jesus," Georgia says as she and Lucy watch Keira go," You're right. That kid is so depressed. She's had that cast on for at least a week now. You'd think she'd have adapted by now."
"She will," Lucy replies, suddenly feeling defensive," She's getting there. It won't be long now. She's getting better."
"I heard she had to miss her friend's birthday party," Georgia says," Keira said she'd been looking forward to it."
Lucy sighs, pushing her food around her plate. "Yeah. It was the day after she broke her arm. Bear was pretty bummed at missing it."
"I can imagine. Being so sad doesn't suit her."
"Hopefully, Leah can snap her out of it."
No matter what Lucy's hoping Leah will do, it doesn't really seem to be working.
Auntie Leah's sitting with Beth from Arsenal and she's trying to get you to detach from Mummy but you refuse.
"Come on, bear!" Auntie Leah laughs," Don't you want to see this cute video I've got?"
You think for a moment. You really want to watch it but you don't want to let go of Mummy at all. Letting go of something was how you got hurt in the first place and Mummy's more sturdier than the climbing frame and you feel safer holding her tight.
She would never drop you.
She's your Mummy bear and you're her baby bear.
She's big and warm and safe and you press yourself further into her like you could melt into her skin and stay there forever.
"How about some chocolate?" Auntie Leah asks," You can hang out in my room with G and I and we can eat chocolate until our tummies hurt."
Normally you would agree with that. You love spending time eating chocolate with Auntie Leah and G but you don't really want to be away from Mummy and Mum. It's bad enough that Mum's across the room from you but you can see her so you know that she's safe.
"We can even watch Brother Bear!"
That nearly breaks you. Brother Bear is your favourite movie ever but Mummy and Mum don't really like screen time so you only get to watch it if you've been very good.
But, still, you'll give up Brother Bear if it means you can stay with Mummy and Mum.
You shake your head. "Want Mum," You whisper against Mummy's skin.
She sighs, resting her head on yours. "Okay, bear," She says, defeated," Let's get Mum."
When you get to Mum, she's whispering to Georgia, who smiles at you before scampering off to Auntie Leah.
"What are you two planning?" Mummy asks suspiciously as she sits in the seat that used to be yours.
"Nothing bad," Mum says quickly before her hand runs over the back of your head and you turn to look at her," How are you feeling, bear?"
"Itchy." You hold your casted arm out to her.
Mum's gotten good at scratching your cast itches.
"Itchy?" She echoes," Well, we can't have that!" She takes a small wooden spoon out of her pocket and starts tapping at the cast. The doctors told her that she's not allowed to let you put stuff down it in case it causes infections so hopefully the vibrations will knock out your itchiness.
It does for the most part and you flop your head back against Mummy when Mum is done.
"Thank you, Mum," You say.
"Of course, bear."
Lucy watches as G and Leah wander out of the room and awaits the text she knows is coming.
You get a bit restless doing nothing and Keira gently runs her hand through your hair to settle you against her again.
"Come on," Lucy says when she finally gets the text," We've got a little surprise, bear."
Your brow furrows in confusion but you don't put up a fight as you're taken back up to the bedrooms. You bypass Mummy and Mum's room in favour of going to Auntie Leah and G's.
Both of them are waiting for you.
Their beds have been pushed together to create a mega bed and their sheets have been made into a little nest with space for all five of you to curl up in.
There's bags of your favourite snacks and your favourite chocolate milk. The title screen of Brother Bear is paused.
You sniffle.
"Oh, no!" G says," Don't cry!"
"These are happy tears," Mum says, wiping them from your cheeks," Isn't that right, bear?"
You nod. "Happy tears."
"Are you ready, bear?" Mummy asks," We're going to have nice chill day with G and Auntie Leah."
"Ready."
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Note
Can I request reader x Lucifer, where she reassures him and tells him that she will always love and be there for him more than anything.
He deserves love, and Lilith deserves to go fuck herself.
I like to think that what's going on with Lilith is some kind of a misunderstanding or will otherwise be resolved, but our dear Lucy boy does indeed deserve comfort in the interim, so have this little ficlet!
Lucifer Morningstar x Reader
Hurt/Comfort
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There were times when the King of Hell simply broke. The constant threats to his power, the atrocities committed by his subjects, the weight of all he'd done and his powerlessness to change anything for the better... it was too much, even for him. Once upon a time, he'd been able to share the weight of his crown, and to draw strength from the one he loved most on the days he couldn't think of a reason to get out of bed. Now, she was gone, and those dark days came for him all the more often in her absence. He'd survived, as he always had and always would, but his servants knew not to intrude when he sealed himself away to crumble behind closed doors. They'd learned no one could reach him when he fell into those dark thoughts.
You, unaware of these things, hadn't hesitated to seek him out when you didn't hear a word for over two days. His private wing of the castle had been unnaturally dim and dank when you'd arrived; the magical lights that usually kept it shimmering were mere flickers, and the golden walls seemed to sag, as if the structure itself was wilting under its own misery. A careful hand along the lifeless corridors had been needed to guide you through the darkness and to the King's private chambers.
When you'd opened the doors, you'd barely recognized the man on the bed at first glance. With his disheveled clothes, unkempt hair and lifeless red eyes, it had taken you a moment to recognize your beloved Lucifer, even with all six of his wings lying limp at his sides. You'd been across the room in a heartbeat once the pieces had connected.
Lucifer's surprise at your arrival had quickly turned to pleas for you to leave. He promised that he was fine, that he only needed to be alone, that you shouldn't bother yourself with such things, but of course you hadn't been convinced. The spread of shed feathers across the mattress and deep bags beneath his eyes told you he was in need of help, and you intended to provide it, however you could. Your steadfast refusal to leave finally brought the truth out of him.
"Alright, I'm not fine!" he confessed, sitting upright to face you. Seated on your heels, you gave him space instinctively, wanting him to continue so you might learn what was troubling the man you loved. Though your first guess would have been some unnatural, Hellish sickness, there was something about his movements that told you it was much deeper than that. Such a proud man would not let himself reach a state like this lightly. Grabbing a handful of his disheveled hair, he averted his eyes and took a shaky breath, wings crumpled around him in a ring of crimson feathers like a broken shield. Horns peaked from his forehead as he fought for his words.
"I didn't mean to scare you, I'm sorry, but I just..." he trailed off as a wave of frustration passed through his features, expression pinching tight as he held his face in his hand. Though your heart ached at the sight, you held back still, knowing you needed the truth before you could do anything for him. A heavy sigh passed through his fingers before he raised his head to look out a nearby stained glass window. The mixed colors reflected deeply in his glassy eyes, and he let out a miserable laugh. "Sometimes, it's too much, you know? Hell, the Sinners, the endless misery, and old Lucy's got nobody to blame for any of it but himself."
"Lucy-"
"What am I even talking about? Nobody to blame? I've got nobody, period! I can't! Soon as someone gets attached, it all goes south! Either I've gotta push them away for their own good, or they end up leaving all on their own!" he continued, breaking into a bout of unhinged laughter. All six wings flexed without any kind of unison, sending a fresh shower of feathers over the both of you as he looked upwards and pointed an accusatory finger at the ceiling. "Top marks for the punishment, you Heavenly bastards! It's the gift that just won't stop giving!"
You'd have stopped him were you not shocked into silence by it all. There had always been hints of your beloved fallen angel's deeply buried suffering: smiles faltering without a word, sudden flashes of sadness in his eyes when he thought you couldn't see, the tightness with which he'd embrace you upon saying goodbye... There had just never been enough for you to act decisively, and he always brushed off even the most casual concern for his wellbeing. Now, with his sanity potentially hanging by a thread, you could almost feel the agony that was weighing him down.
"Gotta keep my daughter away for her own good, lost all my friends, lost my wife-!" he halted with an especially pained laugh, and clutched the fabric of his shirt as if wounded by the very word. Suddenly you understood his seclusion all too well. His beloved of the past ten millennia, the woman he'd crossed Heaven for, the mother of his child... Lilith had been his rock, and without her, how could he shoulder it all? The man before you was collapsing under a kind of pressure few could imagine.
Burying his face in his hands, he spoke next as if you weren't present, sinking into himself and the pit of misery he likely thought he deserved. "And sooner or later I'll lose you too! Can't I get a damned-!?"
"Lucifer!" you interrupted at last, grabbing his shoulders in tandem with the shout. He lifted his head in surprise, having never heard you raise your voice with him and likely quite unaccustomed to the sound to begin with. Emboldened by the success, you continued with all the confidence you could pack into every syllable, needing him to hear you and know you spoke the truth.
"You haven't lost me, and you won't!" you insisted, sure enough in yourself that you'd have challenged every Exorcist in Heaven to prove you meant it. Lucifer, still caught off guard by your initial yell, remained briefly unresponsive. Blinking suddenly, he shifted to an expression of apathy before taking hold of your wrists and gently pulling them off his shoulders.
"I want to believe that..." he replied softly, slightly more grounded now. Breath hitching, he slid his thumbs over the backs of your palms, taking a moment just to feel your presence before abruptly letting go. You could sense how hard he was resisting the urge to pull you in. "But there's so much that can happen. My position, my enemies... it's more than I can ask of anyone, and eventually... Well, everyone has a limit, and I can't blame them for leaving when they hit it."
In the short time you'd known him, you'd seen a great deal of the hardships he spoke of, and knew that many would indeed find the constant weight of his position too much to endure. Since being at his side inevitably meant shouldering some of that weight by proxy, you understood why many would find themselves unable to endure. It was indeed too much to ask of anyone...
Thankfully, you didn't need to be asked. You were offering.
"I don't have a limit. Not so long as I'm with you." you said more firmly, taking his hands back in your own. Once more, you looked into his eyes, and spoke with all the conviction your voice could possibly muster. "I don't care about Heaven, or the rest of Hell, or anything. If I'm with you, I can handle it."
"You have no idea what you're getting yourself into." Lucifer replied quickly, almost mechanical in his dismissal. Though he was still deep in his thoughts and deeper still in his grief, you didn't fail to notice how he let his hands remain in your grip. Despite it all, he wanted you, but just wasn't yet strong enough to face the pain of wanting. You didn't mind. He needed time to heal, and you'd shoulder as much of the load as possible for as long as it took for him to do so.
"Well, good luck trying to stop me." you said, ever more defiant. A small but far more genuine chuckle passed his lips, and you pulled him closer, encouraging the exhausts angel to lean on you for an embrace. When his head met your chest, you held him tightly, fingers brushing through his hair just the way he liked it. As his exhausted body eased against your own, you knew you spoke only the truth. "I love you, and I'm going to keep loving you. Nothing is ever going to change that."
He laughed again, sounding like he still believed his luck wouldn't change, but was daring to hope regardless.
"I love you too."
As you held him on the bed in silence, you vowed to every being from the highest peaks of Heaven to the lowest depths of Hell that he wouldn't regret this.
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itsbuckytm · 6 months
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Little Bird / Coriolanus Snow
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summary: Being the Capitol's favorites subject has consequences. Consequences that subject to be paired with the most influential man in Panem entirely.
notes **reader is an idol/singer in Capitol's first attempt into making a group for each annual Hunger Games. but with snow's obsession into making you entirely his and with his job as mentoring lucy gray, he tries his very best, but fails miserably.
ps ; english isn't my first language so i apologize in advance for some minor errors and please do not copy my work without credit thank you!
Your connection with Snow encompassed diverse facets. At times, he exuded an irresistible charm, drawing you in effortlessly. Yet, in the next moment, his piercing blue eyes locked onto yours with audacious intent, as if daring anyone to approach and touch even the slightest expanse of your skin – a challenge few would ever contemplate. 
Being the Capitol's favorite came with its own set of challenges. Compliments on your skills or charisma were either sincere or fueled by envy, making it doubly difficult for those striving to surpass their yearly earnings. This aspect of Panem's functioning was something Coriolanus exploited way too much. The artificiality of the stage, adorned with makeup to project an illusion of wealth, highlighted what he found enduring. The ease with which one could become the favorite by merely speaking or moving to the latest musical rhythm was something Coriolanus himself could not keep his eyes away from. And that person was you. 
He despised witnessing other men vying for your attention, their eyes lighting up as soon as you entered the Capitol's theater. There was no denying that you were the favorite member among your group. However, during your debut, the spotlight only found you officially when it was announced that the Capitol's new favorite group would be welcoming a new member. Given your position at the Academy, your choices were limited – either mentoring a tribute and risk bringing shame to your family if they lost. Or become part of Panem's newest favored diversion. It wasn’t until the very next day, that many became obsessed with you. And as much as Coriolanus tried to oblige on that single though, he was afraid to admit that he too became a little too obsessed over you. 
To compound Coriolanus's discomfort, he had to endure the ceaseless styling rituals accompanying each new album or song released to the public. This entailed donning short skirts and crops, transforming your body into a specific attire as a statue to be admired for hours on end. For the hapless Coriolanus, sitting there was challenging enough, watching you perform with a self-assured smirk, reveling in every bit of skin. How the skirt would flare up and brush against your skin, how he wanted to feel such fantasy. From each moments of your act, while beads of sweat glistened across every inch of your body. He couldn't help but fantasize scenarios from scenarios that you would be his, envisioning the two most influential figures of the Capitol as the perfect pair. And that was only during the ceremony of the 10th Hunger Games. 
Post the 10th Hunger Games, a significant shift occurred. Lucy Gray's presence lingered in Coriolanus's thoughts, causing him to perceive you in a completely new light. You were constantly in his mind. Although you though, with hearing the constant rumors of a possible relationship between him and his tribute. While you continued to excel in your performances, earning the success both you and your group rightfully deserved, you were aware of Coriolanus's altered fate.
Once he had been sent back to District 12 after his victor, Lucy Gray, who was also a performer. He remembered occasionally, after the victory ceremony, how you had the opportunity to chat with Lucy Gray. Discovering that your old classmate may have developed feelings for her. As Coriolanus Snow’s proud smirk upon seeing the people he seemingly cared for interacting with each other. Only to be so blind by the fact that you had expressed prior feelings for him, but instead confidently expressed his plan to join forces and visit her in her District wasn’t what you had intended to hear. 
While you refrained from expressing any objections, your suspicions regarding the burgeoning emotions between the two of them proved well-founded. Little did you know, Coriolanus engaged in those actions merely to divert his thoughts from you, acknowledging he wouldn't have a chance with you. Lucy Gray became his chosen distraction. Simultaneously, he caught wind of a potential rumor suggesting you were seen intimately with another man. The revelation that this man wasn't him intensified his already pronounced obsession with you. However, this time, Lucy Gray played a role in assisting him.
The revelation of his truth dawned on him only upon his return to Panem. The snake bite's impact intensified, with only your silhouette haunting his thoughts. In this return, he presented a wholly transformed appearance – his hair slightly longer, adorned in his father's old crimson jacket, albeit somewhat intoxicated, attempting to erase all memory of you. What Snow remained oblivious to was your patient anticipation during his absence in District 12. It was Tigris who knocked on your door that very evening, sparing you from the surprise of his return. 
However, Snow chose to make his entrance at the stroke of midnight, reminiscent of the times when both of you would clandestinely navigate the Academy. In those intimate moments, he patiently bided his time for the Capitol streets to empty, stealthily entering through your bedroom window. Hours were spent in each other's arms, reveling in discussions about new projects, with his assurances that everything would be alright.
This time, however, an inebriated Snow had a different agenda beyond comforting cuddles for sleepless nights. His primary goal was to solidify your relationship officially. "If you don’t tell her, I will." Echoed Tigris’s voice in his mind upon seeing her cousin return from duty as a Peacekeeper. She was among the few who truly knew about the budding romantic connection between Coriolanus and you. She pleaded with her cousin to go ahead, noting. "She hasn't touched a man since the last time you spoke, you know." That last statement served as a testament to your unwavering fidelity towards him. It was only a matter of time before he knocked on your door that very night.
On the contrary, you took it upon yourself to tidy up the entire apartment. Anticipating Coriolanus's return, you were determined not to leave a single mess, mindful of both his and your own peace of mind. Despite the fact that chaos often defined your shared living space, when in each other's arms, you both found solace in tidiness and tranquility. However, as dinner passed and bedtime approached, you couldn't help but notice Coriolanus's absence. Was he running late, or was he entangled in some trouble that you would only learn about the next morning? Various questions raced through your mind as you attempted to drift off helplessly on the living room couch, with the TV's echo serving as a backdrop.
Coriolanus stood there silently, observing from a distance outside your apartment window. Anyone observing from afar would catch a glimpse of you nibbling at your cuticles – a habit he had learned you indulged in when he wasn't around, a realization that would later make him feel remorseful upon witnessing the marks it left on your fingers. In response, he would tenderly peck each bruise, a silent acknowledgment of your thoughts mirroring his own. However, this time, he chose to forgo surprising you with the cliché bouquet of flowers or any conventional gesture. After indulging in the contents of a second wine bottle before making his way to you, he had no plans of raiding the florist shop either. Knocking on your door with determination, he felt an unusual hesitation, a departure from his past boldness of entering and showering you with kisses. Contemplating the prospect of declaring you entirely as his, especially in his inebriated state, he wasn't entirely certain if you would fully trust his words. 
Luckily, you had left the door ajar for him, a gesture he expected. Upon entering, he was met with the familiar background echo of the TV, confirming his assumption that you were already asleep. Nostalgia washed over him as he recalled the mornings spent lounging in bed with you or embarking on early runs for coffee. Despite his aspirations to bring about change in Panem and restore his family's reputation by aspiring to become President, he understood that true fulfillment wouldn't come until he had you by his side entirely. Limping slightly due to the effects of his drunkenness, he made his way into the living room and began to softly whisper your name, until his gaze met your sleeping figure. "Y/N... My sweet bird."
His breath carried warmth that gently brushed against your cold skin. Despite the lingering scent of alcohol, indicating Snow had been drinking before his arrival, your eyes responded to the touch of his finger delicately tracing your cheek. "Coryo…" you murmured his name with a loving tone, reveling in the vulnerability of calling out to him. "Shh… I am here," he reassured you, prompting a soft smile to grace your lips at the sound of his comforting voice. A voice you had missed dearly, compelling you to slowly rise from the much-needed slumber after a demanding day. However, lately, without Snow's presence in your arms, the nights became sleepless and challenging to endure alone. Despite acknowledging this truth, there was a conflicting sensation, a twinge of discomfort knowing that Coriolanus relished the fact that without him, you felt incomplete. It was this dynamic that rendered the two of you an unforgettable pair, seemingly inseparable. 
“How I missed you so much.” He continued to say, with seeing your face arousing from your slumber, how he had missed kissing your soft lips each night before going to sleep. If it wasn’t for being a Peacekeeper back in District 12, he’d say he was damn for letting himself kiss Lucy Gray while thinking of you the entire time. “I missed you more, Coryo. Everytime, during performances and even in my relentless dreams.” 
A subtle smile played on his features as his fingers traced down your body, an unspoken desire evident in his every touch. His lips yearned to kiss every inch, a longing to finally claim you as his own. He envisioned proudly holding your hand in public, marking you as his and sending a clear message to other men about your ownership. "You want to know something?" The amusement in his voice prompted a soft giggle from you, appreciating his seemingly all-knowing manner of sharing information, despite the evident effects of his earlier drinking. "What, drunk boy?" You playfully teased, noting the light pink hue that adorned his cheeks—a clear sign of his inebriation. 
He vehemently denied it with a pout, his lips subtly mimicking a desire for a kiss. Coryo was just touch starved. "You know, I haven't been properly fed with love lately. Coryo has been away from his bird for far too long..." His voice deepened, the intensity of his gaze barely allowing for a blink, making it abundantly clear who he desired: you. An intensifying blush crept on your features this time. Of course you knew your history with him, a caring gentleman who made sure to take care of the one he loved most. But this Coriolanus, objected something in you that you enjoyed seeing probably a little more. To be completely under his control. To bow to his command. 
"And as much as I hate to admit..." Your voice took on a gentle tone, a stark contrast to the confidence you exuded in the public eye. Sensing his fingers trailing down your body, from your hips to your lips, he couldn't help but notice their softness, prepared to be pampered at his command. However, he had to restrain his temptations for a moment, feeling his teeth sink into the bottom of his lip. You continued. "I might have been a naughty bird, moaning your name during sleepless nights, hoping you'd come save me from my little cage. You have no idea how eagerly I waited for you to come back." 
Honestly, Coriolanus found himself just as taken aback by your confession, despite the obvious history between the two of you. The mere thought of you in bed, adorned in barely anything, accentuating your beautiful form, fingers exploring sensually. The vivid image of you pleasuring yourself, uttering his name amidst a chorus of enticing sounds, drove him to instant madness. Tonight, he was determined to lavish you with everything he could muster—to claim you as his own, leaving marks on your body that not even the most skilled makeup artist could conceal come morning. Without explicitly professing love in the conventional sense, it was evident that Coriolanus and you were destined to be together. In times of need or distraction, both of you instinctively knew where to find solace in each other's presence. 
"I want you, Coryo..." you pleaded, your fingers clutching his shirt, the skirt from today's performance riding up slightly. Upon arriving from work, you had removed your underwear just for him—his eyes alone to witness, taste, and appreciate. His hands gripped firmly on your arse, and it was his turn to shift positions, settling onto the couch with you atop him. Your blouse, with a revealing cleavage, owed its allure to Tigris, your stylist. You couldn't help but wonder if the same effect would have been achieved without her touch. Extricating yourself from his grasp, you observed his lips curling into a mischievous smirk. It was a smirk that served as a reminder, and in that instant, you knew that tonight, you were unequivocally his—his and his alone, his cherished little bird.
"I can't wait to finally show my little bird what I can do."
Coriolanus spoke those words with genuine anticipation. It was undeniably the most memorable night, and he intended to recreate it repeatedly. After all, you were his little bird—his to cherish, tourmate, and play with as he pleased.
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yesimwriting · 7 months
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okay but after the whole lucy gray thing we know coryo was done with “love” and everything BUT what if during the following year of thg he ends up falling in love with another tribute also from district 12 and he’s just going through it bad (again) however he somehow ends up actually getting the girl in the end, maybe even buying her way into the capitol
A/n I've been thinking about a very specific part of this since i first read it but i told myself no more fic writing until i finished at least one of my essays for finals seasons 😭
also ik in the book (and it's implied in the movie) that after the events of the book he lives with the plinths, but let's pretend he lives on his own with access to the plinth fortune for privacy
ik that makes it sound like it's smutty, but it's not lol
----
Proximity aggravates distance. The closer you are to something, the more damage any remaining space causes.
The few feet dividing the two of you have no right to jab at something inside of him the way it does. It's bad enough that instead of going to bed after a long night of fulfilling his apprenticeship duties under Volumnia's watchful eye, he stopped by your apartment. Only one floor away from his.
For months, the only thing holding the two of you together had been memories of those few nights before the Games.
Coriolanus's attempt to remain indifferent towards you had quickly failed, and his backup plan of learning to loathe you had proven to be just as useless. So he settled on letting you unabashedly take his hand whenever fear overwhelmed you and committing the way your kind eyes watched him to memory.
You're looking around the room--his room--openly, eyes darting from the mahogany surface of his desk to the details elegantly carved into his bed frame.
His fingertips itch with the uncertain desire to reach for you. You've only been in the Capitol for about a day and a half. Less than 48 hours. But the move, the beginning of a program for certain, qualifying victors and their families, had been planned for months.
You shouldn't feel like a phantom that'll vanish if he lets go for too long. "What are you thinking about?"
The question grounds you the same way it did last time he asked. You do your best to hide it, but you're still adjusting, still surprised that he managed to find a way to bring you together again. Just like he promised. Your doubt isn't personal, a fact he has to remind himself of.
"I'm just..." You tilt your head slightly, gaze retreating from the royal blue wallpaper and silver trim of his bedroom walls, "Analyzing."
The comment is followed by an easygoing smile that pinches at something in his chest. His new apartment, the penthouse of one of the largest buildings in the city, another gift from the ever flowing well that is the Plinth fortune, still reeks of former poverty. The few things that hint at the personal are hidden behind layers of desperate wealth so thick the items might as well be standard.
A lifetime spent in 12 means that there's no way you can read between the lines. He can't decide if your perspective will make this room look worse or better. It's a nice bedroom, definitely grander than any bedroom you've stood in before...but it's understated. Maybe even disappointing to someone like you.
"Analyzing?"
You turn fully, "A bedroom says a lot about a person."
"You might get more out of analyzing my study," an oddly school boy worthy partial truth slips out before he can stop himself, "I think I've been spending more time there than here recently."
You shake your head once, eyes landing on the crimson red vase filed with crisp white roses his grandma'am had gifted him on his last visit. Her pride and joy now more than ever. "I'm seeing all I need."
A hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. It's the most genuine expression that's slipped past him in weeks. When he first worked out a way to bring you here, some doubting part of him wondered if the draw he felt towards you would still exist in person.
Less than two weeks after your victorious departure from the Capitol, he had searched through your files and found your address. He had written the letter in a moment of weakness and only sent it after deciding that writing a letter to never be sent is the only thing more pathetic than writing to you in the first place. He had spent the week following that wallowing in self loathing until an age-stained envelope arrived at his door.
"And what are you seeing?" He keeps his tone light. This is ridiculous. He dragged himself and his family out of a gutter clogged by the casualties of war. Coriolanus is stronger than fleeting emotion now. Your opinions on his room can't possibly affect him.
If he were to simplify what brought you here, to the Capitol, to him, he could blame it on his bedroom. The urge to see you, to figure out some way the two of you closer together before your undeserving district could swallow you whole in an attempt to make you like them, would flare up whenever he received one of your letters.
Those urges, however, had never burned him. Not until you wrote about wanting to see him out of the most curious nostalgia you'd ever felt. You wanted to see him in a way that'd let you know what his room looked like, in a way that'd let you guess at his favorite color.
He takes a few steps forward, making the conscious decision to not reach for you. You've never rejected his advances, not even when he instinctually intertwined your fingers after picking you and your family up from the train station. You had scolded him after, telling him that you'd hear no end of it from your mother. It took a lot of focus for Coriolanus to not smile at that. You spoke of it like it would've never occurred to you to just pull your hand away.
Your eyes shift from end of the room to the other. Coriolanus moves carefully, passing you before sitting at the edge of his crisply made bed.
"Before you make your decision..." You turn instinctually, expression so polite and expecting he almost doesn't know how to bear it. His hand briefly pats the space beside him in a silent invitation. "So you can see it from all perspectives."
Your head tilts slightly, and for a moment, Coriolanus can practically feel your rejection. Then you move, sock clad feet treading over smooth white-gray marble. You sit next to him so assuredly, anyone else would have taken the way you neatly fold your hands in your lap as politeness instead of a display of nerves.
Your family's presence makes you less pliable. It's a factor he's willing to work around considering that you would've never left them to come to the Capitol. And even if he had managed to talk you into it, your nostalgia and homesickness would've made you more of a ghost to him than before.
At least the position your family's in is uncertain enough to allow for some leeway in the social norms that you cling to. However, every once in awhile it hits you that at the end of the day, he's still a boy that you're close to, which means that it's your duty to create the distance necessary to keep everything proper. Leaving your bedroom in the middle of the night because said boy knocked at your door and then entering his room in his empty penthouse is something you would've done under normal circumstances.
But your connection isn't that black and white. If it was something so simple, he would have been able to sever it the night before your Games.
"It makes all the difference," you agree warmly, and only somewhat sarcastically. You give yourself another second to take in the space, "I like it."
He can tell that you mean it. "I haven't fully settled in yet."
You shrug, paying him little mind, "There's something about it that just feels like you."
Coriolanus shifts his focus to the ground. You can't possibly mean it in the way that he sees the room, as a reminder that he still doesn't fully fit into who he's become.
"I've been meaning to pick up a few things," he says, "Tomorrow, after my classes, I was thinking about browsing some paintings." Another half truth. He had been meaning to. Mrs. Plinth had instructed him to visit her art dealer whenever he had enough free time to pick out a few pieces to demonstrate his taste. He'd been putting it off as a dismissable task, but it feels like a safe way to give you your first taste of life in the Capitol. "If you'd like to help me pick some out."
You smile, eyebrows pinching together in a way that's just barely noticeable. You're as interested as you are puzzled. "I'd like that." Relaxing enough to let your hand rest between the two of you, you beam, "I don't know if I'd be much help, but I'd like that."
He'd be willing to get anything that caught your eye. Paintings and vases already with such an exclusive art dealer hold more or less the same level of standing, anyway.
Coriolanus moves his hand slowly, careful not to startle you before his fingers can settle against your own. You instinctually turn over your palm, intertwining your fingers. "I trust you."
You stare at him with wide, understanding eyes. Sometimes when you look at him, really look at him, Coriolanus is struck with the feeling that you can see right through him. It's an irrational feeling, that every good action and cruel deed is reflected in his eyes. Moments like this make it hard to be near you. They also, however, make the thought of adding distance between the two of you unbearable.
"I have an early class."
You dip your chin forward in an attempt to accept what you're considering a dismissal. "Right, you must be tired." The words sit between you for a long moment.
Your free hand presses into the silk of your still new pajamas. You shift like you're going to stand. His hold on your hand tightens before you can move away. You still.
He's being ridiculous. There's nothing about this situation that warrants his inability to look at you. "Stay here." His thumb runs across your knuckles. "With me."
The words are soft enough to be a request, but there's not enough space between them for questioning. He cautiously lifts his head enough to take in your reaction.
"What?" It's a display of shock more than an actual question. Coriolanus squeezes your hand even tighter. You don't try to get him to let go, but you do shift away just enough to create the reminder of distance. "You know I can't."
His other hand reaches forward, settling against your wrist. "Why not?" He doesn't mean for his voice to come off as raspy, as desperate as it does.
You swallow, attempting to straighten your spine in an attempt to offset the instinctual urge to hide your face. This isn't a topic you're even comfortable implying. "My mother would kill me if she so much as found out that I came up here so late, let alone..." You trail off, head dropping to your lap. "Stayed here."
He envelops your hand between both of his. "She knows we're friendly."
You look up just long enough to imply a pointed not that friendly. "It's--" You blink, eyes darting from to your joint hands and then finally to the ground. "You know it's..."
Coriolanus leans forward. The shift is small, just enough for his knee to brush against yours. "It's what?" He keeps his voice low, a barely there whisper that comes off as so innocent it nearly circles back to anything but.
You glance up, so wide eyed and flighty he's reminded of a rabbit. The level of precaution you're exuding can't just be about your mother's opinions, can it? He studies your expression openly, taking in the set of your eyebrows and the way you steadily press your lips together to avoid speaking without thinking. At least some part of you believes in your mother's concerns.
The realization strike shim so quickly he has to focus on keeping his expression neutral. Your bond is so much more than just coming together on a random night where exhaustion's already clouding his focus.
It will happen between the two of you. Eventually. But not yet. You've barely entered the Capitol and every aspect of your life has become vastly different than what you're accustomed to. If he were to attempt to cement any relationship between the two of you like that now, you'd be too overwhelmed or you might think that that's the only reason he brought you here.
He learned early on that it's best to introduce adjustments to you slowly, giving you enough time to hold onto ideas before enacting them. Anything of that nature would work that way too.
"I haven't been able to see much of you." He focuses on your hand, still resting safely between both of his. The words came out too quickly, a flash of some genuine sort of emotion that claw at him on the way out. With you, sometimes a glimpse of feeling works wonders.
Your thumb draws gentle patterns against the side of his hand. "You're busy." He relaxes his hand, turning over his palm. You place his hand on your knee, fingers tracing the natural creases etched into his skin. "You're important."
The way that last word comes out makes an uncertain warmth crawl up his neck. "I--I've wanted to see you more." Another thing he means so much it turns his stomach to admit it.
Your nail drags down a line that cuts across the length of his hand. "Me too."
He bends his fingers slowly, moving in until he's trapped your pointer finger against his palm. "Then stay." You twist your finger enough to express some lighthearted irritation, but not enough to count as a real attempt at escaping. "If your mother says anything, I'll explain it to her." You glare at him without any true aggression. "She likes me, doesn't she?"
Coriolanus already knows the answer. She credits your survival to him. You had mentioned that in a letter once, telling him that she insisted you pass along her gratitude after discovering that the two of you had started to correspond regularly.
He also saw the way she reacted to realizing that she had made it to the Capitol. Your mother's family had once been part of the wealthier side of 12. You're part of a recently fallen line of mine owners, a fact that your mother has only pretended to let go of. He saw a hunger behind her eyes that reminded him of a warped version of his own.
Coriolanus gave her back the pride the war had stolen from her family name tenfold. He owes her this much.
"She'd trade me for you in a heartbeat." He hears the grin in your voice more than he sees it. Your family means the world to you, which means he's subjected himself to seeking your mother's validation and winning over your two younger sisters.
It's not the way he'd choose to spend his limited free time, especially with you standing right there, but he's endured worse for less of a pay off. "Then she'd be a fool."
You fight to hold his gaze. "I doubt that."
Your eyes are pools of honest, unfiltered affection. The care that you're watching him with makes it hard to swallow. The instinct to press, to dig and claw and tear anything that could be hiding an ulterior motive into shreds makes it hard to take a full breath. You've always worn your heart on your sleeve. You're not a flighty songbird that uses its charm to distract its prey from its fang-like talons.
"Stay." Again. So breathless he almost doesn't recognize the word as his own.
The deliberation is transparent behind your eyes. You're considering it, but you're still not convinced. The hesitation stings in a way he doesn't understand. "I don't want to give her a reason to not like you."
So softly spoken he's shocked by the way the words manage to feel like a nail being hammered into his chest.
"She's let you stay with other people before." The response is too sharp, too sudden. He should refocus and think through what he's about to say. Coriolanus knows that it's easier to get you to agree to something through the use of honey sweetened words and displays of patience. "You wrote about him."
The confusion that briefly etches its way into your expression threatens to quell the uncomfortable swell of jealousy tightening his chest. "Warren?" The name makes tints the air between you with something acidic. "That was--different."
Your explanation adds an edge to the pressure in his chest. "Why?"
"We weren't--" You cut yourself off, the instinct to placate him and your desire to not start a conversation you can't finish battling each other oddly. "We were never alone." You squeeze his hand as best as you can. "He's a family friend and I only stayed over when my mom had to work late and I was too young to be alone for so long, so I haven't stayed over in years. And--and he shared a room with three of his siblings and his parents checked on us constantly."
He frowns, unconvinced. The lack of approval has you clinging to him, adjusting your hold on his hand as you gently trail your knuckles against the inside of his wrist. "I do miss you." You stare at your hands. "I know it's weird because we're--y'know--closer than before, but I-I do miss you."
The expanding wave of tension in his chest begins to deflate. You're good at that, at redirecting and soothing without even realizing it. A talent that had contributed to his original desire to loathe you. "I understand that." He runs his thumb over your knuckles. "Things aren't going to get less busy. That's why I want to use all the time we have."
You nod slowly, a hint of understanding making its appearance in the set of your brow. "I know."
"What you wrote," he begins, too aware of how much he means the question that follows, "Did you mean it."
"Of course I did." Not an ounce of hesitation, of uncertainty.
He turns your hand over before shifting his fingers up the inside of your wrist. "You wrote about wanting to see me."
"I did..." The pad of his thumb gently makes its way up your forearm. Your even breathing falters. "I do."
Coriolanus lets himself look up just enough to take in your expression. "Then stay." He swallows, too aware of the sudden dryness of his mouth. "Please."
You glance up at him through your lashes. There's a softness there that jabs at him. "Okay."
He lifts the back of your hand, carefully brushing his lips against your skin. "You mentioned wanting to see a library."
You wrote about it once. A brief mention in one of your letters of the small room in your school's office that served as a sort of communal study space with a few books stacked on a small shelf. Your longing had been clear.
Nodding curiously, you agree, "Yeah?"
"I could leave for my classes a little earlier tomorrow, you could come with me." The proposal comes out slowly, his own suggestion taking him by surprise. "My driver could bring you back, that'll give you time to meet the tutor that's being sent over for your sisters, and then when I get back we'll look at the paintings."
You immediately grin, "Really?"
He finds himself smiling back, pulling your arm closer. "Whatever you want."
You beam. "I'd really like that."
"Good," he affirms with a nod of his head that's a touch too forward. He regrets it almost immediately. "If you like it, I might be able to get your own tutor to meet you at a library."
Part of the still uncertain victor program relies on setting up the victor and their family with a new life. Education plays a role in that. Placing any one of you in an actual Capitol run institution is far out of the question. For everyone's sake. Even if the thought of sharing a classroom with someone from 12 didn't horrify the Capitol parents, you and your siblings wouldn't be able to just jump in. It's not that he views you as unintelligent, but District 12's education system isn't exactly on par with the Capitol's.
"That sounds nice," you sit up a little straighter, excited by the prospect, "A part of me kind of misses school."
Another aspect of your personality that he had learned about after your Games. You like school for the sake of it. "I'll check on the arrangements tomorrow."
He clears his throat before you can do more than just nod, "It's getting late."
Coriolanus carefully sets your hand down on the comforter. You awkwardly shift, now more aware of what you agreed to than ever. "Right," you push yourself to stand, "You need your sleep."
He pulls back his sheets before you can think about it even further. You crawl into the provided space without looking at anything in particular. He's quick to join you beneath the safety of plush bedding before leaning over and turning off the bedside lamp.
Darkness floods the space. There's something about the absence of light that makes things feel heavier. The potential intimacy of the situation sneaks up on him with no warning.
This isn't a loss of control. It can't be. It was his idea, he had pushed and convinced you to stay here. He's aware of everything that's led up to this moment, but that's not enough to stop him from wondering if this is something than he should have known better than to embrace. He had accepted the familiar, fickle knotting of his stomach once before.
Steady warmth presses itself against his arm. He blinks, head turning a second too quickly. Your hand has found his. Coriolanus relaxes, allowing himself to fully relax against his pillow. You pick up on his shift, reflecting it by laying down as well.
For someone that had been so hesitant, you seem to know what to do better than he does. You pull his arm towards you, gently trailing your fingers against the exposed skin. Heat crawls up his neck.
"Goodnight," you mumble, voice already drowsy.
Coriolanus lets out a long breath. He grasps your hand, bringing it back to his lips before settling back into the position the two of you were in before. "Goodnight."
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liveontelevision · 25 days
Note
MY FAVE POOKIE.... BY ANY CHANCE CAN.. CAN YOU WRITE FOR A VAMPIRE LUCI?? <3 I FEEL LIKE YOU'D CAPTURE HIM PERFECTLY
YOU'RE ONTO SOMETHING HERE BBG
(You're drawing of vamp Luci is literal eye candy and I'M IN A SUGAR COMAAA) I got way into the lore here I literally did nothing but write and edit this today - THAT BEING SAID this may need a 2nd part but lmk what y'all think
CW: He's a vamp, so.. blood in suggestive situations obvi
♡♡♡
Bite Me | Vamp Lucifer x Reader
"Isn't it just amazing?" You hold a book, opened to a certain illustration, far too close to your friend's eyes. They push the book back a bit just to get a peak, considering their nose was essentially in the pages. The paper reeked of dust and mildew. They subsided a sound of disgust to inspect the illustration you were so eager to show off.
"Oh! This is that weird mansion on the other side of town, but.. it looks..." 
"Stunning? This was what it looked like when it was first built and look-" You excitedly point out a certain tower, it was so thin and far back, that not even the pencil of the original artist could capture its true detail.
"Wait,  that's not there anymore, is it? Weird." Your friend shrugged it off, clearly not as invested as you. You scoff, pulling the book to your chest.
"Well.. not in the daytime, at least." You muttered. This was your hometown's rumor that's been spread for centuries. On the highest hill, past the overcrowded forest, sits the darkest and most foreboding manor anyone has seen. Even the oldest living relatives of those who have seen it, never recall what it looked like in its glory days. No one's quite sure when it was first built. It's as if it had always been there.
No one would really talk, only the seniors and the more.. eccentric.. People would even mention it. A tower that exceeded the height of the full moon, which was the only time it was visible to the naked eye. You've seen it yourself. But you were too inspired, too invested, to be satisfied with a little rumor and a single sighting.
You did your research. You scowered the forest, only to get lost for hours. You managed to find the manor, but in its close proximity, there was no sign of that tower. You found a book, shoved away under some shelf in your public library, depicting poorly written journal entries and illustrations. From what you could decipher, it was older than the town.. it must belong to its original tenants.
The handwriting was almost entirely illegible, which was disappointing, but the pictures inside.. they were crafted beautifully. Scenic drawings of the forest, animals, and a few of a stunning woman were scattered throughout. Every historian you tried to contact left your messages unopened. Any townspeople you'd show the pictures to, to see if they’d recognize the woman at least, looked at you like you were crazy.
Well.. crazy or not, there's only one real way to settle this.
You mark your calendar, circling every full moon for the rest of the year. And it nearly took that long to finally spot the tower, again. After all this time, restless nights where you'd fall asleep with the book in hand, strained sessions of trying to decipher the wording, yet it all got you nowhere. You'd lost friends because of this. You've skipped dates. All because of this damned tower. 
But finally, here it is! Ready to throw yourself from your bedroom window, you take the bag that had been packed for months in case of this very instant, but decide it best to leave through the front door.
You had memorized the path to the manor at this point. What could possibly be drawing you in so deeply? What history could this place possibly hold? Who was the woman drawn in this book.. and who was the artist? You stood in awe, finally seeing the tower up close. The manor itself seemed to be made of an entirely different stone. You jot down your notes and the differences you're seeing in a small book.
You nearly squeal at the sound of the creaking double doors, as you step inside. It wasn't your first time here, you reach into your bag to obtain the little map you had drawn out a few weeks back. Were you going insane? Who's to say? You traced your finger across a path you had drawn, then with determination, went towards the corridor that should lead you to whatever you were looking for.
You stopped and took pictures on occasion, observing things you have seen countless times over the past few months. It still managed to take your breath away. You turned around, stepping backward, to observe the intricate detailing of the high ceilings, letting out little ooh's and aah's you'd assume no one would hear. But you couldn't be sure.
You nearly stumble, turning to face the corridor head-on. A crumbling noise had sent a shock of fear and curiosity into your heart. Was this place ready to cave in? Did something else cause the destruction?
As you continue on, you decide it best to place headphones over your ears. With one ear still slightly free, you do your best to distract your fears and keep exploring. As you hum along, occasionally breaking out into song, your eyes are drawn to a small doorway that definitely was not there during your previous visits. It's made of a different wood than the other doors. It looks.. newer. The handle seems used as If the oils of a hand had worn down its clean coating. This has to be it. Your hand is shaking as you reach for the door, and your heart drops for a moment. It’s warm underneath your touch. With a final breath, you open the door.
It’s.. not exactly what you were expecting. The door led to an impossibly long spiral staircase, you weren't sure if you could make it to the top before daylight. It's too late to go back now, though. You dredge on. As you start your climb, the music from your headset turns to static. And what you expected to be a mile-long staircase ended in mere seconds. Confused by the distortion of the building, you pull out your little journal to document your new discovery as you continue on. 
The steps lead into the tower, you were sure of it. The bricks of the walls and the wood of the doors, it was all different than the manor below. It opened into a short hallway, with a few doors on either side. Opposite to you was a window. It wasn’t shattered or cracked, or even dusty. You press your hands against it and lean forward to see the view of your town. In a stereotypical, I can see my house from here! moment, you pull out your phone to take yet another picture, but.. it's dead. After being fully charged before your arrival. Of course. It's a magical tower that only appears on a full moon and has disappearing staircases, you weren't too shocked by sorcery after what you've exposed yourself to.
As you take in the terrifying height of the structure from the window, something happens that officially startles you for the first time tonight. You hear a gruesome cackling from behind a nearby doorway.
You quickly find its source, pressing your ear to the wooden door. You couldn't make out any specific words, but there was a voice. It was a man's voice. He seemed to laughing, then groaning and complaining about something, then talking some more.. quite a blabbermouth for someone who seems to be alone, you don't hear any other voices.
You have a weapon in your bag. It's nothing fancy, just a little switchblade, but you assumed it'd be enough to ward off at least a single person. Just in case. You decide to go in.
"Oh, who am I kidding, this sucks!" An exacerbated groan, and the sound of something crashing, can be heard as you crack the door open a bit. You peek inside.
A pacing man is surrounded by trinkets, books and tools in some kind of workshop. He looks human.. almost. You notice his skin is nearly paper white. It has a beautiful glow to it, that contrasts against his mostly black wardrobe. You clock his clothes as almost Victorian, a puffed blouse that cinches in at his waist with the assistance of a red-laced vest. His heels seem a bit tall for the time period, but even then, he's actually rather.. short. Despite that, his hair was slicked back but seemed to be coming undone. You watch him pace around for a while longer, finally capturing his arms running through his hair. They're tapered black, as if his hands were dipped in soot. How odd. You want a picture. You want to talk to him, to ask him questions.
You're too engrossed in the view you were spying on to notice he had stopped his jabbering and was now frozen in place at the sight of you. An awkward amount of time passes before either of you make a decision on what to do next.
You decide it best to just forget about this random encounter. This was obviously just another dream. It wasn't, but this wouldn't even be the strangest one you've had. You finally break eye contact, pulling the door shut behind you.
You lean your entire body against it, desperate to keep him contained until you can get your thoughts straightened out. Maybe he's nice! Maybe he's not an insane, inhuman, tinkerer who talks to himself. Before you can think a moment longer, the door opens and thoroughly knocks you to the floor. You scuff your knees and palms against the stone floor, hissing at the wounds before turning on your back to face your attacker.
Okay, it wasn't an attack, exactly. He just opened the door you were standing in front of. You were a little shocked, considering you were putting your full weight on it and he swung it open like nothing was there at all.
your widened eyes were met with his yet again. They seemed different than before. His irises were suddenly glowing a crimson red, staring down at you with a look of disgust. Your heart rate quickens as you finally catch more of his features. The glow of his eyes and the moonlight from the window show off a set of demonic horns, twisting and turning from his temples, and pointed ears. Then finally, you spot his frown- then his fangs.
You slowly crawl backward, making as much distance as you can before your back hits the cold stone of the wall. Your breathing rapidly as he kneels down, continuing to observe your tense body language from such a close distance.
"What is this- how did you get in? I made a whole fancy labyrinth for you little humans and you still manage to pester me." He seems curious now, still annoyed by the interruption, but curious. He catches the sight of your blade, taking it from underneath your hand.
"And you thought this could kill me?" He scoffs, tossing it to the side. "I thought the ones smart enough to get in would put more effort into their weapon of choice." He finally stands, crossing his arms over his chest and looking down at you. His piercing red irises had you staring for an inappropriately long time. He looks around, then behind him, in disbelief that you'd be this lost in his eyes. He clears his throat to get your attention.
"N-no! I don't want to kill you, I swear! I just.. I wanted to..." Why were you here again? To find what's inside the haunted tower? To explore a rumor and find the truth? You'd hate to consider it.. but could you have been wasting all this time after finally being faced with the anticlimactic answer? Your silence doesn't seem to amuse the stranger.
"What, you just stumbled upon my hidden tower? That doesn't sound right. Well, I'll tell you now, I'm not some genie or wizard- I won't grant you wishes or anything stupid like that." He starts to head back to his office. "I have nothing to offer you, so just pretend this is a nightmare or something and go home." You see a little flame puff from his lips as he speaks, clearly irritated by your presence. 
"Wait- wait! I forgot!" You stumble to your feet, wincing at the pain in your scraped knees, but still going on to fumble through your bag. You find your tattered book. The relic that started this all.
"Is this yours?" He takes the book from your hand, skimming through the pages then glaring back up to meet your eyes. 
"Did you steal this?" You shake your head with haste, watching him continue to examine the book. "Then.. yes. This is mine. I'm surprised it's still in one piece." He stops at one of the drawings of the woman. He brushes his hand across the illustration with a dreamy sigh.
"She's beautiful." Your voice breaks his concentration and you see his pale skin turn ever so slightly pink. 
"She is, isn't she?" With a warm smile, you almost forget his threatening nature.
"Who was she?" He looks away from you, letting the book shut.
"It's not important. You need to leave." He leads you to the door. You try to keep up with his strides, only to fumble, your knees weak and bruised from the previous fall. He spots the bleeding scuffs and groans.
"Good lord, you humans are so fragile." You hear him grumble before he's turned on his heels and is dragging you back towards that workshop you intruded on. He grabs you by your arms and guides you to sit down at a little table he had set up. You examined the room after he had walked away. You saw his workbench. It held numerous little springs and gears, paints, and brushes. Looking to the side, you see a shattered figurine, probably what he had thrown during his little tantrum you spied on.
Seeing him standing above you stops your wandering eyes. He kneels down, already wrapping your wounded knees in gauze. You watched him silently. You were surprised at how comfortable the space seemed, considering a man with a demonic presence was currently tending to you like a nurse.
"So.. what are you exactly?" You finally blurted out. You had so many questions, but this was a good place to start.
"Oh. Um.. I think I hear humans referring to me as a vampire." Your blood runs cold and you squeeze the edge of your seat on either side. You feel his hand tremor for a moment, letting his eyes linger on your legs before finishing up one knee with a neat tie. He moves on to the next.
"So you're immortal and drink blood and all that?" He scoffs at your questioning shaking his head. You sound like a curious child.
"That’s.. Mostly correct. Actually, your human literature seemed to accurately portray a lot of my abilities. I'm almost impressed."
"Should I be scared?" You ask with an almost teasing tone, as if that weren't possible.
"Why? Do you think I'm scary?" He looks up for a moment, meeting your eyes. Its subtle, but you see them glowing just slightly. And it almost makes you nervous. Enraptured in an emotion you have to assume is fear, you watch his hands trail around and calf to bring your leg a bit closer. He sticks out his tongue. It's similar to a serpents’. Your eyes follow his tongue to your knee, where he licks the entirety of the wound.
In a state of shock, all you do is tense in your seat, wincing from his action. His tongue reels back, stained with the blood from your own wound. He lets out a breathy hum, before realizing his place.
"E-excuse me, I uh.. have healing properties..?" You cock your head to the side, the confusion in your mind quickly replaced with curiosity.
"Woah, really?" He finishes off your other knee.
".. No. Okay, all patched up. You have to leave." He said hurriedly before the realization could set in. He was embarrassed by his actions sure, but the sunrise softly lighting the room seemed to make him anxious.
"Wait- no! I have so many questions! Why do I have to go? How does this place just vanish in the daytime? Why are you here all alone?" You start to ramble as he manages to move you with ease. "A-at least tell me your name!" You say quickly, breaking from his grasp just before he can shove you out the door. He stops and lets out a sigh.
"Fine. Here." He reaches into his shirt and pulls out a small golden crystal attached to a necklace. Forcing your eyes down to his dipped neckline made you a bit red in the cheeks. With a quick motion, he swings it over your neck.
"This is an Asmodean crystal. You'll be able to see and enter my tower on any night now. You.. you're welcome to return when you see fit." You stare at the small gem in amazement.
"And.. you're just trusting me with this?"
He shrugs, smiling at you for the first time tonight. "You haven't given me a reason not to. You're definitely not a threat." You hum in response, despite his obvious condescending nature. giving the gem one last examination, you tuck it away into your own shirt.
".. And it's Lucifer."
You can't help but grin. “Okay! Time to go! The sun’s almost up!” He rushes you.
"Hm! I'll be back, then, I promise! I'll see you, Lucifer!" You excitedly wave and head back down the stairs. Lucifer.. Your mind was running with possibilities as you left. You turned to the door before leaving, but by the time you looked back, it was simply.. bricked over. You felt almost disappointed. But feeling for the necklace and twirling it between your fingers reminds you that this was all real. He's real.
Lucifer said you could visit. And so you did. While you passed out almost immediately once you returned home, you waited eagerly for the sun to set the next night. You check your window, again. With the crystal squeezed tightly in your fist, you see the familiar tower yet again, despite the full moon being nowhere in sight.
Unfortunately, you are human. You do have a life to live. It took you a few days before you could visit, again, but eventually you did. And it was perfect. Looking down upon in your hometown, it was refreshing to have a new friend. You told him about your own life, giving him some brief history lessons on things he might not know, and bringing him the stereotypical vampire merchandise from current media. He deemed it offensive.
You got him to talk about his past after some pushing. He was one of many brothers, all of them were bloodsuckers of their own accord.
"Wow.. so you came from a whole family of vampires? I mean.. if you don't mind me asking, why aren't you there? What brings you to my glamorous little town?" You say your last question with an eye roll. You were seated at a little bench, a comfortable nook that was set at the window in his workshop, as you watched him working on some sort of mechanical toy. You notice a slight frown tugging at his lips in response to your question.
"Hm. My brothers aren't exactly a fan of me. And you speak sarcastically, but it is actually quite nice here. The air is clearer, and there's much less fire." You look out the window as he's talking.
"Wait.. less fire than where?" He slipped up. You've noticed over these past few visits that he's not too keen on disclosing certain parts of his past. You see him stop what he's doing and curse under his breath.
"I.. I'm from a different realm, of sorts. It's dingy and dark and everyone there cares for nothing but bloodlust." He explains carefully.
"Damn, that sounds like Hell." You pull your knees to your chest, just attempting to sympathize with him by your words.
"You have no idea." He chuckles in response, seeming disarmed enough to continue his tinkering.
"Do you ever go back there? You have to see your family sometimes, right?" He's groaning quietly at your questions.
"Well, yes and no. I'm always here in my tower. And I put a lot of work into making it my own. I'd keep it here forever if I could, but it takes quite a bit of energy from me to keep it in good shape in this realm, so when the sun is out-"
"You return to your own realm! Wow.." you wished you had your book on you to write all this down. But it seemed unnecessary to bring a survival kit here. You felt so safe. 
"How about that lady? In your book? Is she someone from that realm? A family member, maybe?" You bombard him with questions yet again. You do that a lot. He looked over at you with an unenthused glare. You laugh nervously and wave your hands. "N-Nevermind, sorry."
He's made it clear that he doesn't appreciate all these questions. But when he does open up, you can't help but appreciate his fantastical stories.
Looking for a change in topic, you approach his bench, looking over whatever he was working on. With one final screw being turned in, he looks up to you and shows you the small trinket silently. You take it, a bit nervous of its delicacy, and examine it.
"It's fine, it won't break." He rolls his eyes at your nerves. "Like this." He places a hand below yours to steady your grasp and lifts the top of the little round structure to reveal a little sculpted scene. It’s of a pond, with some fish and ducks visible on the pond. It looked so real, despite its size. He smirks at your enthralled expression, reaching for a small key on the back and turning it. It releases a gentle tune, the ducks suddenly spinning and dancing across the pond.
"A music box..?" You question. You look towards him and notice his reaction. He looks almost nervous like he was expecting some harsh critique.
"It's beautiful, Lucifer! Did you use magic or something? This is so cool!" Your outburst leaves him slightly surprised, and just a bit blushed.
"Y-Yes, it is pretty, isn't it?" He says softly, looking away with a smile. By the time he's looking back to you, still enjoying the little trinket, the sun is just peaking from the hills. He should rush to get you out of there. Humans don't belong in his realm, definitely not this one.. but he doesn't want this to end. He wants to show you more, while he listens to you rant about something useless. He shakes his head to reality. He can't have these feelings. Not again.
"It's morning. I'm afraid you have to go, dear." You look just as disappointed as he does, but follow him to the exit either way.
"Wait, here-" You hold the intricate music box back out to him, but he closes his hands around yours, encasing it in your grasp.
"Keep it." His hands are cold. You notice that his skin is always cold, no matter the weather. You wonder if he thinks about the warmth of your hands just as much. Your hands are held together for a bit too long, but the sight of your face in the golden light of the sunrise has him frozen in place.
"What happens if I stay?" Your hasty question snaps him away, quickly tucking his hands behind his back.
"Absolutely not." He says sternly, reaching around and opening his door. "Sorry.. I just.. It’s not safe. You’ll be back though, right?." He smiles, and it always disarms you. Briefly disappointed, you nod and give him a quick wave. You head back to your regular vampire-free life for the time being.
You find yourself back in his workshop, a few months later. The visits were becoming more frequent and neither of you seemed to complain about it.
Since then, the room has been decorated with pillows or blankets you've brought. On occasion, you'd go to see him just to sleep uncomfortably on the small cushioned nook near the window. He never seemed to mind. He'd wake you up carefully before the sun rose.
Other times, you'd bring him tools or gifts from your hometown that he might like, and occasionally you'd get him to eat actual food.
One night you set out one of your blankets on the ground and forced him to sit with you, after seeing him get flustered with whatever he was working on.
"Can you actually eat? Does it do anything for you?" He shrugs in response to your question, popping a little chocolate confection into his mouth.
"Not really. It's more for enjoyment than anything. And these are definitely enjoyable." As he hums at the sweets, he moves to lie down across the blanket, resting his head in your lap. "Where are they from?"
You look down at the little heart-shaped box you've both been taking the treats from and cringe.
"A.. uh.. person. It was a gift. Someone tried to take me out for Valentine's Day, but I wasn't interested." You say quietly.
"Right.. it’s Valentine’s Day… Well, what was wrong with them? Were they rude to you? Ugly?" He asks between bites. You laugh and take a chocolate for yourself.
"No, nothing like that.. they just..." They weren't you. "N-not my type is all." You stammer, quickly shoving the chocolate into your mouth. What are you thinking? He's laughing at you now.
"So you'd rather spend your Valentine's Day with an old crone?" He was joking, but he was right.
"Yeah.. I think I would, actually. I love visiting you." You said calmly, trying your best to keep the compliments.. platonic. Peeking down at him for a second, you notice his tense posture and pink cheeks.
"I-I just- it's not that big a deal, I mean, I've never really celebrated Valentine's Day anyway, so.." You start to fidget with your crystal necklace, picking at the thread and running your thumb along its smooth surface.
"Well..! Then... I'm glad you're enjoying my company, I suppose." He tries to de-escalate the brief tension. You change the subject matter.
"Well, if we're getting on my social life, then I have a question." You finally say. He seems nervous for a moment but is playing it cool to the best of his ability.
"Shoot."
"So, you stay in your tower all day, don't see your family, I don't even hear you talk about that woman from your drawings.. Have you just been alone this whole time?"
He freezes for a moment, before putting a chocolate back into the box and clearing his throat.
"No.. not the whole time." He sighs, standing and going to fetch something. He returns to sit across from you and you’re a little disappointed he didn’t return his head to rest in your lap. It was a journal, it had a similar binding to the one you had found over a year ago.
"Her name is Lillith." He starts, flipping the pages and stopping at one of her drawings. "She's from my realm, and.. we fell in love." For some reason, your heart ached at his words. "I decided to show her this place many years ago, and she wanted to see a nearby village, so.. we went down there together. It was disgusting. People were treating each other so foul, it was loud and dirty, and there was no sign of intelligence." His voice goes dark for a moment, allowing you to flip through the book. "But Lillith loved them. She saw their potential and.. wanted to stay with them. So we made a deal. She'd explore the village when the full moon was out and then return to me the rest of the time."
You look up from the book, seeing that her drawings had stopped about halfway through. The rest of the book was empty.
"So is she.." you mutter, letting the book drop to see his pained expression.
"I haven't seen her in years. Might be decades at this point, but.. it's hard to keep track. I have no idea where she could be, but if she ever returns then-"
"You're waiting for her?" You interrupt, your voice has a hint of irritation to it.
"Hm. I guess I am. I've given up trying to find her, but I still keep this place standing. Just in case." His face reads dejected as he speaks.
"Do you still love her?" You ask. Of course, he does. He's a romantic, waiting for his long-lost love to return. But he looks at you, with a worried expression. Like he wanted to reassure you that wasn't the case.
"I..I do." He says softly. You feel your chest aching still, and you clench the blanket in your fists on either side of you. "I think so? I-I'm not sure." He groans, running his hands through his hair. "Is that terrible of me?" 
You think for a moment. You have to tread lightly. If he truly loves her, it might be best for you to keep your distance to avoid any.. confusion. You let out a defeated sigh, placing your hand on his shoulder to bring his panicked attention back to you.
"Not at all. It's.. nice. That you can love someone that much, especially after all this time." He smiles in return, placing a hand over top of yours.
"How long has it been, do you think?"
"Hmm.. From what I remember.. when were hot air balloons invented?" He genuinely questioned.
"Good lord."
(The answer is over 300 years ago)
You stopped visiting him for a while. After that night, you needed to step away and consider what you were really doing. He's not just an immortal vampire, he's an immortal vampire still holding out hope for a woman he hasn't seen in centuries. And you're just a human. That kind of relationship only works in movies. The sleep schedule you've created has nearly destroyed your social life and you barely have energy in the daytime anymore. Maybe it was for the best to keep your distance. But you have to tell him that. You can't just disappear, he doesn't deserve to feel that pain, again.
You enter his tower as usual, bringing an empty bag to escort some of your belongings back home. To your apartment, your awful tiny apartment. You avoid comparing it to the elegant manor, it's only making you want to back out. You go through the hall, swinging his workshop door open.
"Luciferrr! Sorry to be away for so long, but I think we should talk." You look around to realize you are speaking to an empty room. You look back to the hall. You've never been through any of the other rooms, but he had to be somewhere. And he wasn't responding to your calls.
You open each door carefully, seeing mostly empty storage and cobwebs. One of the rooms was filled to the brim with clothing from all decades. You make a mental note to tease him for playing dress up, later.
You knock at each door, finally opening one that greets you with the warmth of a bedroom. And by warmth, you mean it. You take any coat you were wearing off, finally spotting Lucifer lying in the elegant bed in the center of the room.
"Huh.. I thought you said vampires don't need sleep." You call out, letting your eyes scan the room as you approach the bedside. He's curled up and unresponsive. His sudden panting briefly eased your nerves, at least he’s breathing.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to just barge in, but.. Lucifer? Are you okay?" You reach out and place your hand to his shoulder. He's hot to the touch. You move his body so that he's lying on his back, and he seems even more distressed.
"L-Lucifer..? Lucifer!" You try to speak quietly, but his actions are making you nervous. He finally shoots upward, gripping his bare chest in an attempt to calm his rapid breathing. He does a double take, not believing that you were at his side. Not to mention your scared expression, which is only causing him more concern.
"I-I'm alright! I'm okay.." He lets out a sigh, brushing his hair back. He scans the room, peering out the window. "Ah, nighttime already? I'm sorry, darling, I didn't mean to worry you." He turns back to you, seeing your still-shaken expression. "I slept in! It's okay!" He reassures, patting the side of his bed. You hesitate, but sit down either way.
"I thought.. You didn’t need sleep." You say softly, looking to calm yourself.
"I don't, but it is relaxing sometimes."
"That didn't look relaxing at all."
"Well.. I did say only sometimes." You let out a quiet chuckle and it brings a smile to his face.
"I rest when I'm feeling a bit weak, usually a quick nap helps. But.. sometimes I get nightmares and they're-" You interrupt him.
"Weak? Why are you feeling weak? Did something happen?" You lean in, still feeling uneasy.
"... Just a bit. Don't get me wrong, I am quite powerful-” He loves to gloat about his abilities, your usual reactions of amazement never got old. “-but.. this tower takes its toll on me sometimes. It takes a lot of energy to set up illusions and tricks to keep humans out. I just needed a quick pick me up, that's all." That seemed to calm you a bit, but it did bring up another concern.
"Lucifer.. why do you keep coming back here? Is it worth the trouble? Is.. she worth the trouble?" You ask timidly. His eyes are soft, looking in your direction. It turns you a bit red, you hope you can blame it on the heat of the room if he asks.
"I don’t know.. I’ve been thinking. I-If Lillith has any plans on returning, I'd think she would've done so by now." You feel hopeful, but you attempt to not let it show. "But, I've been here for centuries and I've grown rather fond of... the atmosphere." He tries to reason. He pulls your chin forward, greeting you with a sweet smile. "I'm alright, I promise."
You can't help but return the smile, but you miss his touch once he pulls away. At this point, you're finally taking in his appearance. He's covered in sweat, the bags under his eyes are tremendous and his lips are trembling a bit to keep up a smile.
"Are you sure? You still seem.." You reach your hand out, as if you were about to touch his face, but you see him reel back.
"Clearly, I didn't get a good night's rest.. maybe you should head home, dear, I'm not much fun to be around when I'm like this.." He sulks, making it a point to avoid looking at you. With just the sight of you, he might as you to stay.
"No!" His wide-eyed expression shows that you've clearly just embarrassed yourself. "No, I mean- I don't want to leave. Can I help? Can you.. drink my blood or something? Would that do anything?" He's immediately blushing at your suggestion, right to the tips of his ears. He quickly declines.
"No. Nonono.. That is not happening." He crosses his arms over his still bare chest, which neither of you has mentioned yet. That’s not to say you haven't been staring.
"Would it help?" You ask. He sighs and nods. "Would it kill me?" He shakes his head. "Not if I'm careful.."
"Will it turn me into a vampire or something?" He shakes his head, again.
"Then do it. I want to help you! It's the least I can do since you’ve been so sweet to me." You say sternly, beginning to move the strap of your shirt, revealing a bare shoulder.
"Woah woah, okay. Fine.. I’ll just take a little. Since you're so insistent." He moves your strap back up your shoulder carefully. "And there's no need for that, dear, don't get too excited." He teases. He looks like he’s on the brink of death, yet he still manages to make fun of you.
"I-I'm not excited! Shut up.." you stammer, as you feel him pull your hand towards him, keeping a grip just below your wrist.
"Whatever you say." His smirk has you blushing, again." you ready?" You nod your head, attempting to keep a straight face despite the reality of the situation.
He leans forward to face you, and you move closer to be more comfortable. With his clawed hands still holding your arm delicately, he brings your palm to his lips. You feel his hot breath against your skin and instinctively flex your hand. He stops abruptly and looks at you.
"I-I'm fine, just do it already!" He rolls his eyes and positions his fangs right at the pulse point on your wrist. With a deep breath from both of you, he sinks his teeth into your flesh. The skin is thin there, so it wasn't as painful as you thought it would be.
It's awkward for a moment, you don't feel any different at first. But looking towards Lucifer, you see his eyes turning that glowing crimson red that had startled you when you first met. Sure, it still startled you now, but it was Lucifer. He's not as scary as he looks, you tell yourself. You feel a breath of hot air from his nostrils, realizing he had been holding his breath this whole time. His eyes fluttered shut, and that's when you felt it.
It felt like getting your blood drawn, but his fangs were less painful than the needles somehow. You'd only notice your hand start to fall asleep after a while. But his expression stopped you from saying anything. His heavy breaths against your skin, as he occasionally pulled away to lick the wound clean, only to sink his teeth back in the same spot. You placed your free hand over your mouth to prevent any noises from escaping your lips. He pulled off for a moment, then sunk his teeth in another spot, feverishly placing multiple bite marks across the entirety of your wrist. You attempt to speak up through your hand.
"L-Lucifer.. I-I'm..!" He stops almost immediately, sitting up straight and blinking his eyes back to their usual hue. He looks down to your wrist, a mess of bite marks, all still leaking your crimson blood. Your hand had fallen slack.
"Sorry! Sorry-" He runs his tongue across the wounds, it seemed to stop the blood for now. "How do you feel?" Your eyes are dazed a bit, and when you go to prop yourself up on your previously ravished wrist you fall forward. He catches you by your arms, before you can fall away from the bed. You shake your head, finally looking at him through half-lidded eyes.
"I'm okay.." you say weakly. He's nervously trying to keep your head up, and brushing hair away from your face. He moves to the other side of the bed, and brings you along to lie down beside him. He sits on his knees to examine you, keeping a hand cupping your cheek. It's cool to the touch again, a relief for you. You shakily place your hand on top of his, then look towards him. "You look amazing, Lucifer~" You say with a dizzy smile. Despite the wording, you were right. His skin had brightened up, and he instantly lost the bags from his eyes.
"I might've done too much.." He mumbled, tracing his free hand across your wrist. "You're starting to sound crazy."
"No..! I mean it, you're just.. beautiful.. quite a sight." You're delirious. He starts to worry, suppressing his excitement for the oncoming compliments. He'll have to let you rest, no matter how disappointed that made him. He'd missed your company these past few days.
"Whatever you say, darling. Go ahead and rest, I'll get you some water." And he does just that.
You had left some water bottles and snacks here a few months ago, so he hastily took those and brought them back to you. He set everything on the nightstand and went over to open the glass doors to the balcony of his room, bringing in a fresh night breeze. He put an actual shirt on, finally, on the way to look over you from the side of the bed. 
You were just sitting up, leaning against the headboard as you took a very needed gulp of water.
"So? How did I taste?" You tease, stretching your hand now that you’re regaining feeling.
"Delicious." He sounds flirtatious but almost serious. It has you blushing.
Lucifer had gone off to work on something after you insisted you'd be fine and just needed a few more minutes of rest. That didn't go how you expected. You came here to set some boundaries and here you are in his bed, covered in bite marks. The implications alone made you groan from embarrassment.  And slightly in disbelief. You huff and attempt to stand, it’s not too bad, then move to the balcony and lean against the railing. The breeze ran through your hair and across your heated face, you let out a sigh of relief.
"Feeling better, dear?" His voice has you turning your head a bit, and you greet him with a smile. You nod your head before returning your eyes to the town below.
“I’m glad. Thank you, for.. Letting me do that.” He says, sounding a bit shy. He joins you, leaning against the railing by your side. You both stand in silence for a moment.
"I think I'm in love with you, Lucifer." Maybe it was the blood loss or the sheer exhaustion, but something just forced those words from you. You keep your eyes away from him. If this could be the last time you see him, bringing this dream to an end, then you might as well let it out.
"O-Oh..! Hm! Well, that's uh.." He hoots, and you see his hands flexing against the railing. He can't even form a real response.
"It's stupid, I know. I'm a human, and you're this crazy immortal being. Plus, you just drank my blood. Maybe I'm still delirious.." You continue to toy with your gifted necklace, still keeping your eyes low. You don't know how you would react if you could see his expression right now.
"So.. you would... you want to be with me?" That's what he asks? That's his response?
"I-I mean.. yeah. You're my best friend, you're handsome and smart, and you're inventive and... I just love being around you. I want to.. I want to make you happy, but I just don't know if that's something I can do." Your gaze is finally brought to his when his claws gently guide your chin towards him. His expression is that of pure infatuation. You'd never expect to see him look like this, not when looking at you.
"You make me plenty happy, darling." Your eyes go wide.
"You're bright and fun, and you're adorably curious- I just worry as well. I'll outlive you. I've been locked up here for so long, I don't know how much I can offer you.. but it's definitely less than you deserve." His words send a pain to your chest. You both know, based on fact alone, it just wouldn't work.
"I only want you to be happy as well, love." His words force a nervous sigh from you. This seems like a night for bold decisions, so you decide to make another. You turn to face him, bring him in by his collar, and press your lips against his in one fell swoop. Giving him no time to comprehend the situation, he lets out a muffled exclamation into your lips. It felt like hours before you feel his hands on your waist, and his lips desperately ravishing yours. He pulls you closer to him, his hands now reaching your hips and gripping you tighter. You pull his lower lip down with your thumb, keeping a hand on his jaw as you do so, and begin to explore his mouth with your tongue feverishly. A small yelp at the boldness comes from Lucifer before his forked tongue is dancing with yours. You can still taste your own blood on his lips.
He turns the both of you, having your back pressed against the railing of the balcony, giving him the chance to corner you into being as close as possible. He leans his chest into yours, moving in even more. You're leaning over the railing just slightly, but one of his hands is firmly planted against your back, giving you a sense of security. The other is still gripping at your hips, occasionally slipping upwards to brush the bare skin beneath your top, his cool touch acting as a reminder that this is really happening. He props his knee between your legs, having to force them apart gently to do so.
You pull away with a deep exhale after realizing you've been anxiously holding your breath this whole time. Even leaning away from him, your mind was running rapidly with thoughts of his body. You trace your thumb over his lips, parting them just slightly to examine his fangs. He's turning red with the close inspection.
"W-What are you doing..?" You understand what he's trying to say, but his words are still muffled by your hold on him. He sees your eyes ponder for a moment before you look back to him.
"Bite me." You say sternly. Your hand slips away from his mouth and you start speckling small kisses across his forehead and cheeks, lifting his head slightly with a kiss to his jaw.
"Excuse me?? You want-" You hush his stammering by pulling back, to look into his eyes one more time.
"I want you to bite me.. my neck, I mean." You clearly weren't budging. He still seems hesitant but proceeds to move any hair away from your shoulder
"What, does someone enjoy being bitten?” He asks in a teasing tone, looking at you with a smirk. With a deadpan expression, your eyes brimming with lust, you take a hold of his collar again and pull him into a messy kiss. When you pull back, you see a dazed Lucifer, struggling to keep eye contact.
“Yes.”
He huffs, completely enthralled in your enthusiasm, but still seeming nervous. He pulls the strap to your shirt to the side, examining your collarbone and neck. You hear him gulp, as he runs his hand upward until it’s cradling the back of your head.
“I tend to lose myself a little. You saw what happened before, are you sure-"
"I'm sure. I'll tell you if you have to stop." Still very adamant about it, Lucifer pulls your head to one side as you keep your grip on his shirt, balling the fabric in your fists with anticipation.
He places a small kiss first, the action causing you to flinch slightly. You feel him smile on your neck, clearly enjoying your reaction. He kisses every inch of you, each one becoming sloppier than the last.
After thoroughly leaving you in a dazed state of affection, he traces his face to the softest part of your neck, just above your collarbone, and quickly snaps through the skin. With a startled yelp, you glide your hand upward until you've taken a tight grip onto his hair. You barely have time to appreciate how soft it is before you feel the sensation of his fangs piercing a different spot of flesh.
He doesn't seem to be taking much blood.. Definitely not as much as before and not as quickly. It's leaving your head slightly fuzzy, making any sensations, any marks he's leaving on your body, blur into an overall bliss. You're thoughtlessly letting out little moans and gasps at each bite, only encouraging him to keep it up. You feel the vibrations of his groaning against your skin as he moves to hold you tightly around your waist. After a few moments, you start to feel a bit woozy, your body completely melting into his touch. You tap his shoulder quickly,
"Ah.. Lucifer-" Just as before, he made sure to clean any wounds that were still dripping with blood, but he went on to embellish each one with a kiss before pulling away. He looks at you with concern, cupping your cheek and bracing the weight of your lulling head. You smile and hum into his palm.
"How are you doing, darling?" He actively inspects your entirety before meeting your eyes again.
"Lovely~" You say with a drunken chuckle. He pulls you in for another kiss, before easily scooping you up.
"Alright, then.. let's get you to bed, you little perv.” You hit his chest to the best of your ability in your weakened state. His laughter is music to your ears. You’re too tired to worry about how this will affect your relationship. Or your physical health for that matter. But for now, nothing has felt more comforting than his arms wrapped around your body, the cold soothing the heated moment, and your dizzy mind.
♡♡♡
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!Taglist!
( @vififofum / @thornwolfy235 / @tinywolfiegirl / @chipper-chip / @bat-boness / @misfitgirlwrites / @nayomi247 / @lonelynmisunderstood / @escapistoftherealworld / @b4ts1e / @hamthepan / @kyo-kyo1 / @looking1016 / @polytheatrix / @littledolly2345 / @lillianastuff / @yourlocalcryptidbee /@0strawberrysorbet0 / @themageofblood / @jayyyayaysblog / @floralsightings / @azmosposts / @8har0ley8 / @actuallyspiderwoman / @sirenetheblogger / @christineblood / @kaytemchugh / @cimadreamer / @simpdevil66 / @azmosposts / @m3ow1 / @acrazyartist / @redfoxwritesstuff / @4k1to / @meesachan / @corvusskid / @alientee /@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx / @alon3lylov3r /@sapphireravensworld / @mjmdragons / @catticora / @the-maladaptivedaydreamer / @carrie0-1 / @shamblezzz / @cassandras-nest )
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fluentmoviequoter · 17 days
Text
No Party Like a Costco Party
Requested Here!
Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!shy!reader
Summary: You enjoy going to Costco, so Tim decides to take you shopping on your birthday. With a little help from your best friend, it turns into a party.
Warnings: just fluff!
Word Count: 1.9k+ words
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“Tim!” Lucy calls as he walks into the bullpen.
He stops and watches her as she skips toward him. Even though he rolls his eyes and shakes his head, she continues smiling and bounces when she reaches him.
“What are you doing for my best friend’s birthday?” she asks.
“Nothing,” Tim answers. “I will be doing something for my girlfriend’s birthday, though.”
“Just admit that she likes me more than you.”
“No.”
“Tim,” Lucy groans. She punches his arm playfully, then ignores his offended glare as she asks, “What do you have in mind?”
Tim shrugs and admits, “I’m not sure yet. I was thinking I may just take her to Costco or something.”
“Please tell me you’re kidding,” Wesley interjects.
“Why are you here?” Tim asks as he looks over. “And it’s none of your business, or yours, Lucy.”
“A trip to Costco is not romantic, Tim,” Wesley says. “But I have a client who needs my help. It seems you do, too, but Lucy can handle your girlfriend issues.”
“No one is handling anything!” Tim snaps.
“I’m with Wesley,” Angela comments from her desk.
“It never ends,” Tim sighs.
“She does love Costco,” Lucy agrees. “She’d enjoy going with you.”
“Wait,” Angela says. She chuckles as she looks up at Tim. “Your girlfriend, the shyest person I’ve ever met, likes going to Costco? The busiest store in existence?”
“Is it too late to back out of this conversation?” Tim asks.
“Absolutely,” Angela answers. “So, just a trip to Costco. That’s all the birthday girl gets?”
“I’d like to do more, but-“
“I’ve got it!” Lucy cheers, slapping Tim’s arm again.
“Stop hitting me!” he demands as he steps away from her.
“What if you surprise her at Costco? Like, her friends could ‘run into’ her while shopping, and then someone can have a cake or something at the café. It would be so fun, Tim!” Lucy suggests.
“That’s… it’s not a terrible idea,” Tim murmurs. “I don’t know how she’d feel about interacting with a bunch of people, though.”
“She loves us,” Angela reminds Tim. “Just a quick ‘hey, happy birthday’ and then she moves on. We don’t have to draw attention to her or anything.”
“Fine, yeah, let’s do it,” Tim agrees.
“Yay!” Lucy yells. “I’ll go invite the people she likes.”
Tim watches Lucy run through the bullpen and shakes his head. It’s a good thing you like Costco and Lucy, he thinks, because it’s certainly nothing he would have planned alone.
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“What are you doing?” you ask softly.
Tim sets his phone aside and then places his arm back around you. As he pulls you against his side, he sighs.
“Checking to see how many seconds are left until your birthday,” he jokes. “Lucy had a question.”
“Is it going to be terrible?”
“It’s your birthday. It’s going to be great.”
Tim jostles you gently, and when you turn your face against his shoulder, you feel him chuckle. He enjoys making you shy, or simply reminding you of how shy you were when you first met. With your birthday coming up, you know that Tim has something planned. You can only hope that it’s a good surprise. As Tim pulls you closer, you listen to his heartbeat.
“I got Kojo treats at Costco today,” you tell him.
“Of course, you did,” Tim murmurs before he kisses your head.
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“Go get ready, birthday girl,” Tim says.
He takes your plate to the kitchen, and you sneak Kojo a bite of your breakfast leftovers. Waking up to Tim making you breakfast was special, but since he told you that he had more planned for your birthday, you’ve grown more curious and more excited.
“To go where?” you ask.
“Shopping.”
You furrow your brows but stand and push your chair in regardless of your confusion. Tim isn’t a big fan of shopping, so you assume this particular shopping trip has to do with what day it is. After you’re dressed and ready, Tim takes your hand and leads you to his truck.
When he pulls into a turn lane, you feel confident you know where he’s taking you. You frequent Costco often; it's fun to browse and kill time in a place where you can disappear and go unnoticed every once in a while. Tim usually teases you for how much you use your Costco card, but he hasn’t made a single sarcastic comment today.
“Are we going to Costco?” you ask excitedly.
“We are,” Tim answers as he turns. “Unless you want to do something else.”
“No, this is great!”
Tim smiles and when he glances at you, you try to control your excitement and watch the road instead of him. You have a mental list of things you’d like to look at, and maybe treat yourself to since it is your birthday after all. Tim extends his hand over the console of his truck, and you happily lay your hand in his. He interlaces his fingers through yours and squeezes twice. The moment he parks, however, your hand is pulled from his as you exit the truck.
You walk through the entrance and take Tim’s hand again as you look at the promotional items in the front of the store. Tim watches you as you read signs and stop to touch an oversized stuffed animal. He knows what’s waiting for you inside, but seeing you so excited was worth the trip, he thinks.
“Well, look who it is.”
You turn quickly and smile when you see Angela. She pulls you into a hug as Tim and Wesley shake hands. They share a look, and you pinch your brows as you step back from Angela.
“Happy birthday,” she tells you. “Has Tim bought you anything yet?” “No,” you answer with a chuckle. “I’m just glad he finally came with me.”
“Tim Bradford saying no? I can’t imagine it.”
You laugh at Angela’s sarcasm, and Tim smiles at how happy you are. You’re always fun to be around, even if you are hiding against him because he made you shy, but birthday joy is a good look on you.
“There’s a sale on rings, Tim,” Wesley says.
Your eyes widen before you drop your gaze to the floor. There has been no discussion of getting engaged or married in your relationship with Tim, but it’s certainly somewhere you can see yourself going.
“It’s her birthday,” Tim chides. “Don’t do that to her.”
“Well, we have to get back to the kids,” Angela interjects. “They’ll riot soon if they don’t get their snacks. Enjoy the rest of your birthday!” “Thanks, Angela.”
You hug her once more and wave at Wesley before Tim lays his hands on your shoulders and steers you toward your favorite section of the store. He keeps a hand on you as you browse, moving when you do. It was a surprise to see someone you know, and on your birthday, no less, but you don’t think too much about the coincidence.
Until someone says, “Happy birthday!” down the aisle from you, at least.
“Hi, Sergeant Grey, Luna,” you greet.
You look toward Tim quickly, but he shrugs and lays his hand across your back.
“Will she ever call me anything other than Sergeant?” Wade asks Tim as Luna hugs you tightly.
“I’ve been trying to get her to call me Sergeant, but she won’t do it,” Tim laments.
“Ignore them,” Luna encourages you. “How’s the birthday going?”
“It’s great,” you answer. “Tim made me breakfast and hasn’t tortured me yet.”
“Yet,” Tim scoffs.
“We just ran into Angela and Wesley, too.”
“Small world,” Wade muses.
“Big city,” you argue, looking toward Tim.
“Do me a favor and buy yourself something amazing for your birthday, and I will see you at lunch next week,” Luna tells you. “Bye, Tim.”
Tim waves as they pass, and you cross your arms to look at him.
“What?” he asks with his brows raised.
“You’re doing something,” you accuse. “It’s too much of a coincidence.”
“I am doing something,” Tim admits. “Loving you.”
You drop your arms and tip your head back, which Tim takes as an opportunity to wrap you in a bear hug. You grip the back of his shirt, somewhere between shy because of the public affection and relieved because you need a hug.
“Alright, let’s go find you something to buy,” Tim declares. “For me to buy for you, I mean.”
“You don’t have to,” you say quietly.
“It’s your birthday, and it’s my boyfriend-ly duty.”
“That’s not a word,” you mumble as he leads you to the next aisle.
You browse several aisles before you see someone else you know, and now you’re convinced that Tim has orchestrated this. After running into at least a dozen people that you know and choosing not one but three things that you like, you and Tim approach the checkout lanes. He pays for your gifts and takes your hand.
As he leads you to the café seating area, you see your best friend, Lucy. Tim grumbles as you release his hand to approach her. You stop short when you see a birthday cake sitting on the table beside her.
“Happy birthday!” she calls as she rounds the table to hug you. “I’m so happy to see you!”
“You did all of this?” you ask, looking between Tim and Lucy.
“It was Tim’s idea, I just helped,” she says.
“Thank you,” you whisper.
“Don’t get shy yet, you have half of Mid-Wilshire to share that cake with,” Tim replies.
On cue, everyone you’ve run into today approaches the table to give you more birthday wishes and a few gifts. The attention makes you shy, but they’re your friends, and you appreciate them and their kindness more than you can, or would, say.
Lucy passes you a piece of cake and stands beside you as everyone else begins eating.
“Was it really Tim’s idea?” you ask.
“Yeah. He said he was going to bring you to Costco, and I just recommended a cake,” she says. “Unfortunately, I can’t take credit for the cake; Tim ordered it. Oh! I also have a gift for you in my car, so don’t leave before I give it to you.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yes, I did. We’re best friends, and you are the kindest, most special person I have ever met. If anyone deserves this kind of love on their birthday, it’s you.”
You set your plate down to hug Lucy and only release her when Tim grabs your waist. He laughs when you lean against him but drops his head and whispers to ask if you’re okay. Very early in your relationship, he learned your tells. He knows when you’re overwhelmed, when you’re getting shy enough that he needs to give you a minute, and every other little thing about you.
“I’m great,” you answer. “Thank you for all of this.”
“It’s the least I could do.”
“Seriously, it is,” Wesley adds. “Making you use your Costco card to get into your birthday celebration was certainly… a choice.”
“It’s perfect,” you say. “And all my friends are here.” “Plus these people,” Lucy jokes as she gestures to everyone else.
“You’re just her best friend because you can carry both sides of the conversation, so she never gets shy with you,” Nyla teases.
“And our mutual disdain for Tim’s weird humour,” Lucy adds.
“What’s that?” Tim asks, tipping his head toward you. “You want to leave now? Okay, let’s go.”
You laugh as he tries to pull you away, but you’re enjoying your Costco birthday party too much to leave. When Wade offers to stand on the table and tell all the other customers that it’s your big day, however, you consider taking Tim up on that offer.
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hazelfoureyes · 3 months
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Lazy Mornings
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400 words of nonsense smut because I’m incapable of denying @fraugwinska anything
It was a routine of sorts. Alastor woke up, found the paper at his door, opened the curtains, hung up his pajama shirt, and settled back into bed. He made sure the pillows were stacked well enough to keep him up and comfortable.
And then Lucifer would wake up, hands slithering under the covers until he found the edges of Alastor’s silk pajama pants. He’d drag himself over, hair messy and eyes still half shut.
His fingers would rub through the soft fabric, waking up the rest of the radio demon. 
Alastor would check the news, keep up to date with what overlord was taking what territory, as Luci’s mouth peppered his cock with little licks. His own hands working to open himself up to receive his first meal of the day. 
Clawed hands would grip the paper and hiss, feeling his majesty’s painfully tight hole squeezing down his length as Luci descended.
It was what he was good at, after all. Falling.
“Are you one of those mostly powerless figureheads?” Alastor shook out the paper to keep it stiff. “If not, you should be embarrassed, the demonic economy is in shambles.”
Luci’s hands were pressing on Alastor’s stomach, head hanging as he worked himself up and down. Alastor was so hot, molten metal pushing his body open. His cock jumped with every thrust, wagging like a telltale tail. 
“Makes sense, the monarch just makes ducks all day…” Alastor sighed, Luci quickening.
His paper fluttered, little groans slipping into heavy moans and blowing at the newspaper.
A chorus of ‘fucks’ panted out as Lucifer’s hand stroked himself, long and quick from base to head.
“Gonna cum,” His hips began to falter, rhythm breaking down as his focus shifted to his orgasm.
"Oh, look at that, they increased prices on gas again.” 
Lucifer cried, “Too much,” the overstimulation between his hand and the deep press Alastor’s cock was making on his prostate rolling his eyes back.
"I know, it's a crime, really!" He licked a finger tip to turn the page.
With a little squeak of a cry, Lucifer’s body stilled. His hand kept its pace, drawing out the thick cum spilling over his knuckles and onto Alastor’s stomach. 
Alastor winced, the grip painful as Luci’s hole spasmed with the emptying of his balls. Lucifer fell over onto his side, slipping off Alastor and rolling onto his back. The paper was folded down, “Good morning to you too, dear.” He patted his monarch’s head, hair slightly damp with sweat, “Now, clean me up, your majesty.”
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title: i need you more
author: sciencebecameouraddiction
fandom: hazbin hotel
rating: G
genre: angst/comfort
pairing: lucifer x reader
summary: thinking of the extermination that was happening, you find yourself realizing that you’re hesitating putting yourself out on the battle field fully. and you know that mistakes get made when someone’s head isn’t in the game. so you ask lucifer a question you’ve been dreading.
“what will you do after i die?” my words are contemplative as i look off to the city in the distance, not needing to turn around to know he was behind me.
“what-what do you mean?” he asks, his voice trembling with fear and apprehension.
“you know what i mean lucifer.” i sigh, “there will come a time when i will no longer be with you. i will die. i’m not immortal like you. so, what will you do when that happens?” i still explain, even though he knows what I’m asking.
“please, don’t talk like that. we’ll figure something out. i don’t-i can’t loose you too.” he whispers, walking up to me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his head on my back. i place my hand over his, threading our fingers together. “please, stop talking like this.” he begs me again.
“with the extermination happening tomorrow, and charlie fighting to protect her friends, i will be down there helping. and i can’t be holding back in a fight, when others lives are on the line or your life or charlie’s life is on the line. i need to know that you’ll be okay, luci.” you explain, turning in his arms and facing him, your hand bringing his face to look at yours. your eyes widen as you see tears streaming down his face. he shakes his head visibly getting more distraught as you place your hands on his shoulders.
“p-please. don’t.” he begs you. “don’t do something noble like-like sacrificing yourself. i don’t want to know what would happen if you-if you-if you…” he took a deep breath, “died. i would not be the same.” he closed his eyes as he rested his head against your bicep. a part of you felt distraught at causing him such angst the night before extermination. seeing him cry was something you never wanted to be the cause of.
“you are my north star. when it’s too dark to see, you are the thing to guide me home. you are the one to shed light on a dark path illuminating my way forward like a trusty lamp. your smile is my sun i wake up to each day. please,” he looks up at you, his eyes pleading for you to stop, “don’t take that away from me.”
you look at him, your eyes wide and your mouth set. you smile at him slightly and draw him closer. “i’m sorry my love, i was being selfish. i was not thinking about how what was saying would affect you. please forgive me.” you murmur into his ear, feeling his body respond with a full body shiver.
“it’s okay. just, please, prioritize you making it out alive. all i need is you and charlie to be all right.” he whispers, his hand coming up to cup your cheek.
“and we need you, so, let’s win tomorrow’s fight and show them who we are.” you say, lucifer bringing you out of the dark place you were thinking about the extermination tomorrow and giving you the determination to make it out alive.
“we always do.” he chuckles, softly, and draws you into a kiss.
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woso-dreamzzz · 4 months
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Kidnapped
Fridolina Rolfö x Baby!Reader
Summary: Frido kidnaps you
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Frido thought that her parents were going crazy when they called. She thought they were losing their marbles when they complained that they missed a full house and were planning on adopting.
She'd swept it under the rug until she received a picture two months later of her parents in a baby's room with a tiny baby sleeping in a crib. She hadn't even realised they were being serious until the picture.
But now, as she stood with you in her arms, she understood it completely.
It had been all too easy to escape with you for training this morning. With her parents coming to visit and the time difference from Sweden to Spain, they had both been out for the count and Frido had taken you with her.
She was still technically injured and only joined in with light training so this was a perfect way to bond with you.
"Frido," Ingrid says as she steps into the locker room," What...What have you done?"
She stood in the doorway in shock, blocking the entrance before she was shoved out of the way by the other girls. Each of them had a similar reaction, stopping and staring before being brutally shoved over so the next person could take their place.
"Hmm?" Frido asks, not looking up from where she's feeding you your bottle," I just finished my gym session. Why?"
"I think she means the baby, mate," Lucy butts in, eyes wide as she stares with no shame," Was the knee injury just a cover up for a pregnancy?"
"What? No! This is y/n. My little sister."
"That's a baby."
"Well, yes, but she's my little sister too."
"I think she looks very sweet," Irene cuts in before anyone else can drag this out any longer.
Irene approaches and you draw your eyes away from where they've gone cross-eyed to see your bottle to look at her. You keep suckling as you stare at her with unblinking eyes.
"This is Irene, älskling," Frido coos," She plays football with me."
You keep suckling as your eyes cut towards the rest of the girls who have begun to line up to get a closer look at you.
"So," Patri laughs," Did you steal her from Sweden or-?"
"My parents came to visit," Frido replies as she detaches you from your bottle and places you on her shoulder to wind you," And I'm letting them have the day off."
"Did you tell them that?"
Frido's face goes a little red. "I left a note. It's not like I kidnapped her!"
"This is like the textbook definition of kidnap," Patri laughs, pulling a silly face at you when you're turned back around to face her," But she's cute so I'm glad you did it."
Frido looks down at you. "She is, isn't she?"
She didn't know what to expect from you when her parents came to visit. She'd seen you briefly in video calls and received routine pictures and videos of you but meeting you in person was different.
You were so small and sweet and you fit just perfectly in her arms. You'd reached up to her with your little baby hands and patted at her cheek and she fell in love with you right then and there.
Ingrid comes to greet you next.
You're more aware of everyone now as you sit propped up on Frido's lap. Your little legs kick out occasionally as Frido sways you side to side. You seem to like that because you let out little peals of giggles as Ingrid approaches.
She smiles at you and Frido beams at her.
It's not that she needs approval but Ingrid's one of her best friends and it would mean a lot if she liked you too.
Ingrid goes down onto her knees so you're at eye level with her. You stare at her like you stared at Irene before Frido rocks you slightly. Your face splits into a smile and you giggle again, kicking your legs out and stuffing your fist into your mouth.
Ingrid grins, looking up at Frido.
"You should be careful," She says," If you keep kidnapping her then your parents might never let you bring her back to see us."
Frido laughs, lifting you up until you're both pressed cheek to cheek. "They'd never be able to separate me from my älskling. I'm going to take her everywhere with me!"
"She's your sister," Ingrid reminds her," She'll have to go back to Sweden at some point."
"No!" Frido declares, shaking her head and laying several ticklish kisses on your cheek, sending you into another round of bell-like giggles. "She's staying with me! They can't have her anymore!"
"So, this kidnapping is a permanent thing," Ingrid teases.
"No!" Frido looks at you and your little gummy smile and the way that you kick your feet out even though you're dangling in her arms. "Maybe!" You shove your fist into your mouth and Frido coos. "Would you like that, älskling? Living with me? Spain is so much warmer than Sweden."
You gurgle and Frido takes that as agreement.
"You're staying with me, huh?" She says as you suddenly get distracted by your own feet, reaching down to tug at them. "I know. We're going to have so much fun together."
"Fun together on the run," Patri teases," Because that's certainly kidnapping."
"I'll lay low at Ingrid's for a while. She and Mapi have already got everything set up for a baby. Me and älskling will be fine."
"They've got things set up for a child," Patri reminds her," Their cub isn't a baby anymore. Sorry, Frido, you've got no chance of outrunning the law."
Frido grins as you kick your feet and giggle again. "We'll work something out."
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tobeahundred · 3 months
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Released eight chapters of Aere Perennius today!
Here is a small Baldwin and Lucy comic and poem I wrote for my fan-fiction. It's called In Aeternum te Amabo (My love for you will last forever).
I had a lot of fun drawing this!
In Aeternum Te Amabo
Could you learn to love a man with skin so brightly burned And fingers gloved and bandaged for a God he must have spurned Whose touch will one day leave his reach Whose eyes will no longer see Tell me, Princess, is that the man with whom you want to be?
Could you learn to love a man whose days are so far and few? Who carries heaven’s burden but cannot run to you? Whose breath commanded armies Whose mind had resolved wars Princess, is that the future you’ve always wanted for?
Could you learn to mourn a king who owed his life to God? Whose every waking moment was a harrowing facade Could you bring him comfort? Could you soothe his screams? Or princess, are you just the ghost that torments his waking dreams?
When I lose each piece of me, and only have my mind Princess, when I become numb, lame, deaf, and blind, Will you be there at the end? Will you be the one I find? Or will you too abandon me and leave my love behind?
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vendetta-ari · 3 months
Note
Your fav anon is backkkkk! Hey Love! May I request a Vox (and you can include Lucifer too) x Artist (f!) reader headcannons? As I’ve said before, take your time! ♡ ♡
UGHH OH MY FUCKIN GOD IM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME THIS LONG TO GET TO YOUR ASK BRO ILYSM ANON TYSM FOR YOU PATIENCE UR FRFR MY FAV ANON ♡♡♡
anyways, here Luci + Vox x artist reader
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Lucifer
~ Lucifer and you always create and paint things together, he loves your creativity and he adores your art
~ You and Luci exchange ducks on special days, like valentine's day,  Christmas, and birthdays.
~ You always exchange art tips with each other,  bother being artists and your own unique ways.
~ Many times you have painted Lucifer's ducks for him when he's feeling down.
~ You two took a picture on your anniversary and you printed it out and painted it, he hangs it up on his wall and he always says its “The best thing I've ever, ever owned my dear!” he always gets all cheery and smiles when he sees it
~ You paint lucifers nails for him, last time you made a lil duck design on them
~ People can always tell when you two have been hanging out because the two of you are all giggly and smiling covered in paint
~ You painted a mural in his room, an apple using both his and your favorite colors
~ you give all your art pieces to Luci, you tried to sell one of them and the poor guy almost cried
~ he's basically drowning in your paintings and all your artwork, he doesn't mind at all though. although he is running out of space…
~ whatever he'll just expand his room to fit more of your work.
~ you have forced Lucifer to let you do makeup on him, he wasn't too happy but you laughed your ass off at his annoyance and makeup covered face
~ He cant stay mad at you for too long though, when your mad at luci you'll grab one of his ducks and paint them a different color completely and rub paint off some off his other ducks
~ when you finally calm down you repaint all for them with him though, as an apology. 
~ the two of you often take walks through the rings of hell for inspiration 
~ surprisingly, the screams of everyone being tortured is great to get those creative juices flowing
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Vox
☆ Now let's be for real here guys, Vox can't draw for shit, so him being with an artist reader is kinda cute and unique and funny
☆ But you on the other hand, “your art is beautiful! n’ it should be hung up in a museum or something like that doll, I seriously dunno how you do it”
☆ During certain shows where they need sets, props, or anything related to that, you'll be the one painting them being the first to volunteer  you totally didn't draw a dick kn one of the sets and embarrass him on live television pft- noo psh- hah why would you ever do such a thing? it must've been val!
☆ You couldn't keep your laughter when Vox drew that picture of Alastor when be was throwing his hissy fit on live television 
☆ you redraw a picture of Alastor for Vox to tear up crumble and kick around as a stress reliever 
☆ Vox realized that you drew a picture of Alastor, didn't matter what it was for you still drew him, just then he got angry again and demanded that you draw a picture of him
☆ just one more thing to stroke his ego I suppose 
☆ You and velvette are besties, she often steals you away from Vox so you two can draw up outfits
☆ and he totally doesn't ever never get mad at her because of that
☆ You often draw in a red and blue journal Vox gave you as a gift once, it was in a whim but you still love it dearly 
☆ you draw pictures of him and you together with little hearts around them, but vox doesn't need to know that
☆ but one time he did look through your journal, out of curiosity. trying to hide the blush that spread across his face, he grabbed a pen and wrote little messages on a few of your doodles "Didn't know she was that obsessed with me" he mumbled under his breath while flipping through the pages
☆ “We're gonna recreate this photo tomorrow,  meet me at my office in 4:00 dollface” -Vox
☆ when you noticed the note you almost lost your mind fangirling over this TV man
☆So you did as you were told and met him at his office, getting there a little bit early
☆ And just like that he picked you up and carried you bridal style to his chair, kissing you softly all over, with you giggling and blushing, creating your drawing perfectly.
-xoxo, Ari
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We are Infinity
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Hi guys!
I had several asks for a new Luna one, I feel like I’m writing a lot for them those days but I think we all need some fluffy stuff after Mariona’s departure 😔 I’m still mourning.
TW : pure fluff honestly
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It was hard for Lucy to let Ona go to the Spanish camp, where she knows that the staff and the head coach won’t really take care of her girlfriend. She got hurt on her face and near her eyes and to get better soon it would have been better for her to rest at home.
But it wasn’t on the Spanish’ plans, so Ona had to take her plane with Alexia, Mariona and the other player from the Barca to go to camp. Lucy specifically asked Alexia to have a close look at Ona, the younger girl being a little too reckless at her taste sometimes. Lucy’s request activated Alexia’s protectiveness and Ona couldn’t make a meter without having her captain near her, slapping her hand away from her face, asking her to hydrate herself or checking several times a day her wound.
It was pretty cute to be honest and Alexia doesn’t stop, even if Ona walked on her feet almost three times before she gets called by the medical team to have a closer look of her injury. Alexia was there too, listening to the discussion and even giving her opinion.
Ona wasn’t really happy to go back home, to be honest. She loves camp and Leila, who she liked very much and doesn’t see a lot, was called too. She was happy to be able to play with her again, but it would be for another time.
They gave her only two hours to get her things together before leaving and she even run into Jana at the airport, who were coming at her place.  Ona was excited for her friend too; she knows how much Jana would be happy to be here.
While she was waiting for her plane, she finally calls her girlfriend, who is herself in England for the camp. Lucy doesn’t know for now that she was leaving.
“Hola Bonita” Lucy says happily, making Ona smile.
“Hello beautiful” Ona answers back.
She can hear noises in the background, and she wonders what Lucy is doing. She sometimes forgets that there is one hour less in England. It’s not a lot, but it’s sometimes very much too.
“I’m sorry, am I disturbing you?” the Spaniard says.
“We are at diner but it’s alright. Is everything’s fine?”
To be honest, Ona thought about making a little joke to Lucy about here face going suddenly not good as a revenge for asking Alexia to look after her. She then changed her mind, but she haven’t thought that Lucy would be the one asking if there is a problem.
“Yeah, I mean… You know, how you asked me to be careful with my wound?”
“Mhm?”
Lucy’s tone was perfectly neutral, but Ona knows better. She can draw with precision the face of her girlfriend right now. Lips pinched, eyebrows raised and waiting for the end of the sentence while knowing that she will not like what will follow.
“Well, they decided to send me home” she finally say, not wanting to play with her girlfriend nerves.
“Oh, thanks God” Lucy sighs.
Ona hears someone piping in the background and she frowns slightly, trying to hear who it was. Lucy answers to the girl but her voice is almost muted, like if she putted the phone against her chest or something.
“It’s Ona, she’s going home.” She hears from afar before that Lucy’s voice is clear again. “I’m so glad Onita, it’s really a great thing.”
“I don’t know, I’ll be all alone in Barcelona.”
“What do you mean? You will be with your parents, your brother, Mapi and Bruna, the dogs…”
“Well, they are not you.”
“I will be back before you know, I promise.”
Ona can hear Lucy’s smile in her voice and if she’s not able to hear what is said next to Lucy, she easily can catch the teasing tone with which we are talking to her girlfriend.
“Who is talking to you?” Ona asks when she hear Lucy answer a « fuck off ».
“Maya. She’s so annoying.”
There are protestations and Lucy is laughing, making Ona smile. She misses her girlfriend laugh so much and they are separated since only two days.
“Oooh I miss her! Say hello to her for me”
Ona knows Maya very well; she played with her at Manchester United for three seasons before coming back to Barcelona. They were both playing on the last line on the pitch, being a lot next to each other during the games.
“I miss you too Ona!”
The Spaniard chuckle when she hears her friend’s voice, probably stuck against Lucy. She then hears Lucy groan something and asking Ona to wait for several seconds before she’s talking again. Without any noises or voices behind her this time.
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Even with Lucy reassurances, Ona hated her time at Barcelona without her. Sure she went to her brother’s house, she went for a lot of walk with their dogs, she ate lunch almost everyday at her parent’s house and she saw Mapi, Pina and Patri sometimes too. Not Bruna because she went to the camp after she left.
But the time is long without Lucy.
Even longer now that she knows how much her girlfriend is struggling with her knee. It’s not a surprise to be honest, their schedules are insane. Even if she hates being at home when her team is playing important games, she’s happy to have several days to rest correctly. This is something Lucy would have needed too.
And worse, Sarina made Lucy played the two games, every single minute. Saying that Ona is mad is very far from the truth. She’s fuming while looking at her girlfriend playing with her extra bandage on her knee.
Lucy complained about her knee several times on the phone during their calls and Ona knows how much Lucy is in pain to talk about it like that.
“Just ask to go home” Ona said during one of their FaceTime.
“I can’t, Ona. There isn’t anyone to replace me if I left. The team would be into deep shit.”
She knows Lucy is right, but having seen her girlfriend so upset after the first game and their lost crushed Ona’s heart. She almost jumped in a plane to England, but Lucy begs her not to do it. Ona wasn’t really happy about that, wanting to take care of her girlfriend if the England squad doesn’t seem to be able to do it.
Ona is jumping and stressing so much during the last game that her brother put several shots of tequila in her hands to try to relax her. It kind of worked, even if she’s a little bit tipsy when she FaceTime Lucy latter that night.
“Ona are you drunk?” Lucy asks after hearing her girlfriend giggling about everything during several minutes.
“Nooooo, not at all my Love, why?”
“You are” Lucy laughs. “What have you done; you burden?”
“Nothing” Ona giggles again. “It was Joan, he forced me.”
“He sure did” Lucy says, rolling her eyes, before asking with a softened voice “You are at home, right?”
“I am. At home and safe” Ona smiles too “I can’t wait for you to come home though. I really miss you.”
“Tomorrow you’ll have me in all for yourself again. It won’t be long now.”
“I can’t wait”
Ona rolls on her side to get under the cover of their bed. The dogs are sleeping on Lucy’s place in the bed, but Ona didn’t say it to Lucy. Dogs aren’t allowed in their bed usually.
“How is your knee?” Ona asks with a suddenly sleepy voice, the alcohol starting to kick in.
“The ice was very welcome, to be honest.”
She shows her knee wrapped in ice and Ona frowns. She hates seeing her girlfriend in pain and even more if she’s not with her to help her to get better.
“This is so bullshit, honestly.”
“I know” Lucy shrugs.
What can she say more? She knows her girlfriend’s opinion and she know too that if things were reversed, she would have the same. But she doesn’t want to pick a fight now, she would rather look at Ona falling asleep.
“Sleep well Bonita” Lucy whispers when she spots Ona’s heavy eyes.
The younger girl only answers with a vague groan before falling asleep for good. Lucy smiles and for the first time since they started talking, she doesn’t hang up. She cute the sound on her side not to wake her girl up, but she falls asleep a half-hour later looking at dead-asleep Ona.
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Ona is more excited than ever. Lucy was only several minutes from her now, Ona can follow her on the app on her smartphone. Of course, her girlfriend told her when she left Paris and when she was in Barcelona’s airport, but being able to follow her like this help her to be patient. Or to be even more excited, maybe.
“Mommy is coming home Narla!” Ona sings, making the dog waltz in the living room.
Narla barks and Ona really think that the dog understands what she was saying. Laughing softly when she tries to lick her face, Ona put her softly on the ground, to hug a jealous Coco. She kisses her head several times but stops when she hears a car stopping at the bottom of their building. She just has to take a look by the balcony to see her girlfriend collecting her suitcases before going in the building.
Ona is almost running when she goes to the door and Lucy just has the time to open it before being struck by a brunette storm. Lucy laughs when Ona jumps on her arms, securely passing hers around her girlfriend’s waist.
She lets Ona hiding her face in her neck, allowing herself to do the same in her hair, breathing with pleasure the comfort that her smell offers her. She smiles when the younger one start to kiss her cheek and then every part of her face she’s able to reach.
“Hi” Ona says happily when she retracks her head to have a better look at Lucy.
“Hi” Lucy laughs in return.
She puts slowly Ona down, kissing her lovingly on her lips this time. She doesn’t remember who and when they close the door, but it doesn’t really matter. After the kiss, Lucy grabs very softly Ona’s chin between her fingers to tilted it a bit and have a good look at Ona’s injury. Rolling her eyes but still smiling, Ona lets her do, waiting patiently while Lucy is looking at it.
“It’s look better, sì?” Ona asks after several seconds.
“It does” Lucy approves softly.
She then takes Ona in her arms again to hug her, enjoying Ona’s heath against her. The Spaniard sighs of well-being and closes her eyes to enjoy the moment.
“I missed you so much” Lucy mumbles against Ona’s hair.
“I missed you too” Ona smiles, raising her eyes to look at her.
The sweet moment is interrupted by Narla, who seems to think that all of this is very cute but she waited enough for her humans to have their reunion and that it’s now her turn. The small dog nudge Lucy’s knee with her nose, making both girls laugh.
“You know I missed you too!”
Lucy manages to take Narla in one of her hands without letting Ona go. But it was before Coco came too, barking with what could be vexation.
“Oy and you too of course! I’ll never forget my boy. Sorry, Bonita” Lucy grins at Ona when she needs to let her go.
Too happy to have her girl back to even imitate a pout, Ona let Lucy with their dogs, taking her suitcases directly to the bathroom to start the laundry. She smiles hearing Lucy’s talking to the dogs, even if she can’t really understand all she was saying. They both are barking happily, and Ona doesn’t hear when Lucy asks “Alright, where’s Mama now?”.
She’s soon spotted though, Lucy’s hugging her from behind only ten seconds after that.
“Fuck the laundry, Babe. I need to catch all the hugs and kisses I missed” Lucy mumbles against Ona’s neck.
“Mh I don’t know if you deserved it, you choose the dogs after me just two minutes ago” Ona jokes before turning in her arms.
“You know very well that I’ll make it up to you”
Lucy has a smirk and a playful face, who make Ona smile wider. She knows that they will be separated again during the Olympics – if Ona is selected of course – but those separations aren’t easy anyway. Ona feels like it got even harder every time. She just too used to have Lucy next to her in her daily life.
Lucy drags her on the couch, and they put something on TV that none of them is really watching, too busy to hug, talk, look and kiss each other. Maybe not in that order.
“I’m hungry and I probably should go take a shower” Lucy yawns when the sky is almost dark.
“Go shower and I take care of the food” Ona decides before getting up from the couch.
She was already turning her mind upside down to know what to cook to Lucy, when the girl takes her by the arm and make her sit on her lap. She stoles a rather hard kiss to the younger one before letting her go.
“Now we can go” she smirks, getting up to even left the room before Ona.
Ona stays still in the kitchen for several minutes after deciding that it was better to command something for tonight. They are both tired and the fridge is empty, they really need to go grocery shopping tomorrow. When she’s alone, she’s usually feeding herself with fruits, avocado toast and Iberic ham, much to Lucy desperation.
Lucy finds Ona sitting on the table in the kitchen when she’s showered, smiling at her with her phone in her hand.
“What?” Lucy asks.
“Nothing. You’re here, walking with your two knees. I’m just happy.”
How can someone be so cute, adorable and dramatically hot at the same time? Lucy asks herself for the hundred times since she met Ona.
“Happiness looks good on you.”
With two steps, Lucy is in front of Ona, passing her arms around the smallest girl. She just can’t help herself, with time she even sometimes forgot that they are supposed to be private about their relationship in public. So, in private, she just can’t keep her hands away from Ona. The Spaniard being touchy, she never complained about it.
“You can congrats yourself, you are the reason of my happiness.”
“Look at you, who is the sweet talker now?”
Ona laughs, it was one joke during the first days of their relationship. Lucy liked to hit on Ona with the most random sentences ever. It wasn’t in attempt to flirt really, she just wanted to hear Ona’s laugh every single second. She had other things to flirt with Ona and make her fall for her. She never had to try hard to be honest.
“But I see no food cooking. Were you planning to give yourself to me for diner?”
“You wish” Ona laughs when Lucy wiggles her eyebrows. “I ordered to the Thai restaurant across the street. It will be here in like ten minutes.”
“Perfect.”
She made Ona squeak when she takes her suddenly in her arms to go to the couch again and dropping her on it before wrapping herself around Ona.
“We have time for more hugs until they come” she decides.
“We have” Ona confirms, smiling softly.
Looking at the ceiling, she starts to stroke Lucy’s back under her shirt. She can feel her muscles contract under her soft skin, and she just have to take a look at Lucy’s face to realize that she’s half-asleep. Lucy must feel her girlfriend’s gaze on her though, because she mumbles
“’m not asleep”
“Sure, Beautiful” Ona laughs slightly.
She smiles again when Coco jumps on the couch to install himself next to them and raise her head a little bit when she hears noises that she can’t really identify.
“Oh. Looks like Narla wants to show you her new rocks” Ona informs Lucy when she sees the dog starting to align to rocks in front of the couch.
If Coco groans before heading back to sleep, Lucy groans and sit down, rubbing her eyes. But she can’t be mad at her dog who have a strange thing for rocks when she looks at her with so much happiness, wiggle her tail with excitation. And she just has to look at Ona’s smile to feel her heart melt. She’s the happier girl in the world. She would never complain about anything.
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pep-rambles · 3 months
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Lucifer is a Swiftie headcanons because I kin this man so much I am projecting my other hyperfixations on him
But also I mean c'mon,
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Look at him
yes there is RadioApple in this
-It probably started from Charlie. When she was in high school (post emo phase obviously) she may have enjoyed Taylor Swift (maybe Fearless got her through her senior year because I can't stop projecting) Lucifer started listening to try and have something to bond with his daughter about. But about the time Charlie kind of lost interest is about the time Lucifer doubled down on his obsession.
-He has been to basically almost every Eras concert, usually in really good seats because many a swiftie has offered to sell their soul for tickets. He said keep your soul just let him tag along.
-He is definitely an Evermore stan mostly because of relating too hard to the divorce narrative of it.
-Speaking of, Charlie has threatened to lock him out of his Spotify after catching him on the floor crying to “Champaign Problems” on repeat too many times. She never would but most definitely tried to ban him from listening to it for a month.
-She then caught him crying to “You’re Loosing Me”
-Angel Dust is most definitely  Beyhive (killer bee probably) and though initially joking that they are rivals the two men bond over their love for the two queens of pop, recommending songs and videos to each other.
-Angel is a Reputation Stan though 
-After one of Lucifer’s many tiffs with Alastor,  Charlie is expressing her frustration asking her dad why can’t they just get along and Lucifer explains that he doesn’t trust Alastor because “I think his ever-present grin is a little troubling” and is a little upset when she doesn’t get it 
-One day, Luci is sitting in the Lobby doing his work while listening to Taylor on shuffle. He’s casually minding his own business jamming out to one of her poppier love songs and Alastor wanders in commenting on the “Obnoxious trite little diddy” Lucifer doesn't even hesitate to take the bait
L: HOW DARE YOU! SHE IS A TALENTED GODDESS!! A DOWNRIGHT MUSICAL CHAMELEON! You are such a snob Alastor! Good music didn't stop getting made after your tiny little lifetime.
A: I never said it did but it's certainly not this frivolous noise!
L: Oh, you uninformed uncultured cur! She is a fucking poet!
He then proceeds to play examples for Alastor of her most creative and heart wrenching lyrics (he absolutely makes Al sit through all 10 minutes and 13 seconds of ATW) 
After all that though Lucifer will never get Alastor to admit that he finds T.S. musically talented (or that Lucifer did in fact catch Al tapping his foot a couple times)
        -Alastor does come to Lucifer, after a bit of research, admitting that though he does not find her music enjoyable, he respects her business cunning. Luci figures that's good enough. For now. 
-because I bet my non-existent Eras tour tickets that Lilith was a hater. I’ll leave it at that.
-OP works at Barnes & Noble and let me tell you there are about 80 different Taylor Swift magazines that even my swiftie ass thinks is excessive but Lucifer has every single one
-including the Taylor Swift paper dolls magazine (yes this is a real thing). He probably gets a few because he convinces Charlie to use them as a team building activity.
-He has at least 3 copies of each of the covers for the 2023 TIME Person of the Year magazine. 
-Also all cardigans. On a casual day he definitely lounges in them and has a set rotation of when to wear each one (and I am totally not gonna draw that nope)
-Well, it seems Lucifer is no longer crying to the depressing break-up songs on repeat but now he seems to be angrily listening to “Gorgeous” on repeat. Charlie asks him about it and he goes full denial mode “No no Charlie I'm not thinking of anyone specific, I've just been really into this song lately.” Everyone else in the hotel, besides Alastor, has already figured out what's going on
Alastor: If I have to hear that obnoxious noise one more time I will reduce that tiny maniac’s room to rubble as well as the abode of whatever sad sack is making him play it.
Angel: *knowing smirk* I'm gonna hold ya to that one, Antlers. 
-Al may very well hear it one more time if Lucifer uses it as his confession song (I don't fully commit to this headcanon, I just think it's funny) 
-Anyway boy’s probably in his Reputation stan Era b/c LWYMMD is like his long overdue big F-YOU to Heaven song 
btw this is NOT gonna end at these headcanons I am running with this idea like scissors.
@nunalastor
@julsiemagne
@nose-nippin-fun (I know you're not a swiftie but we talked about this so idk if you care I can un-tag you if you want)
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b4sically-ficti0n · 2 months
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Rewatched The Lost Boys again (at the theater this time, too! A theater near me is doing this six day vampire movie marathon, and I'll be going to 4 of the six).
And i noticed something else! (I'm actually going to mention more than the one thing but it's all closely related).
So, we all know about the "Max is the head vampire" double plot twist thing. And i really like that double plot twist because of some subtler details that show that whoever wrote the script really knows their vampire lore.
So, remember how Sam and the Frog brothers sort of test to see of Max is the head vampire at dinner with Lucy? That was actually when i figured out he was a vampire. The "he must not be the head vampire," "yes he is!" thing never worked on me. As soon as he asked Michael to invite him in, i was like, yep, he's a vampire. (The first time i watched the movie). That's one of those subtler details i mentioned.
Another thing I noticed the first time I watched the movie is that he does react to both the garlic and the holy water, he just plays off why. And i realize now that the holy water only hit him where he had clothes on so if his skin tore like Paul's does later in the movie, he could've hid it behind his clothes and by drawing attention to other stuff (which he did!).
Max also reacted to the garlic. Paul does say later on that garlic doesn't effect vampires which could be true but he also could have been lying.
Anyway, Max may have lied about why he reacted to both the garlic and the holy water but he definitely reacted.
The thing i only really noticed/understood earlier tonight was Max's non-reaction to the mirror. See, the reason vampire lore often says that vampires can't see their reflections is because old mirrors were backed with silver and silver is "pure" so it reacted negatively to vampires or whatever (i don't remember the exact explanation) and that's what kept them from seeing their reflections. And the mirror that Michael and Sam were standing in front of in that one scene was very obviously an antique mirror. Which means it was probably backed with silver! But not the newer, cheaper mirror they used for Max. Which is why there was no effect/reaction.
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