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rippersz · 11 months

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𝔖𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔱 𝔏𝔞𝔪𝔟, 𝔚𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔗𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯 ℌ𝔦𝔡𝔢

⊱꒦꒷꒦꒷︶︶꒷꒦꒷꒦⊰⊱꒦꒷꒦꒷︶︶꒷꒦꒷꒦⊰

⊱꒦꒷꒦꒷︶︶꒷꒦꒷꒦⊰⊱꒦꒷꒦꒷︶︶꒷꒦꒷꒦⊰

(A Lucifer Morningstar {The Sandman} x Fem!Reader One-shot) (TW: Kind of Smutty)

⊱꒦꒷꒦꒷︶︶꒷꒦꒷꒦⊰⊱꒦꒷꒦꒷︶︶꒷꒦꒷꒦⊰

You could feel them.

You could feel them in the room, existing in the shadows, pouring into the crevices.

Like black ooze… like a snake, able to fill any space at all… like something untouchable. Priceless.

Your brother had always said that in order to know God, one had to know The Devil. One had to seek them out, understand them, hold them close, and only then could one find the beauty in purity. In innocence. In humankind.

‘But where do you find The Devil?’ You had asked, young and wide-eyed and impressionable.

‘Everywhere,’ his soft boyish voice responded, ‘You find Satan everywhere.’

It was hogwash.

Bullshit.

Indoctrination.

The Devil never existed - you came to that conclusion however many years ago.

The Devil didn’t exist and your fear was pointless.

And yet?

And yet.

You still returned every day, purging your sins at the altar and kneeling among the pews. Staring at the cross like it was your savior - a direct line to whatever part of Heaven you wished you could end up in once everything was said and done. And it was there, in the middle of prayer, when you felt them. When the air changed in the middle of the afternoon and suddenly you blinked and the sky was dark. With the street lamps lit and the stars darting the evening. There was no moon to accompany them - there was no moon to accompany you.

And, in the same sense, there was no one to witness your death. Which would certainly happen, if the change in atmosphere said anything at all. And it did - it said a lot. It said that something was lurking and something was nearby and something was very very hungry. So hungry, in fact, that you could feel the dread drip down your spine in the form of a cold drop of sweat.

There were eyes on you as you kneeled, observing the curve in your body and looking at the way your legs folded beneath you. Hands out, hands clasped, head bowed beneath the gaze of the Heavens. Of a ruler you’d never meet. Of the very antithesis to whatever was behind you, sitting in one of the rows, lounging like nothing mattered at all. And you supposed it didn’t. The line of prayer that spilled from your lips had stopped immediately, and things fell silent, and nothing- nothing- could have mattered. You felt stuck. You felt scared. You felt… compelled.

‘Turn’ something distinct and evil whispered, ‘turn around and look. Look at them. Look look look. Peer upon divinity lost; peer upon God’s favorite; kneel in their shadow and admit that the Almighty was wrong. Look look look and see what humans have always wanted to see. Be the lucky one. Be the one to know. Be greedy. Look.’

And you hadn’t realized you were turning until it was too late and your eyes sprang open and there, some rows away, lit up by a soft ray of light that seemed to shine from nowhere at all, was The Fallen One.

All black leather and pale skin and cherubic features and all blonde hair and large dark wings and one long leg crossed over the other and all strong shoulders and slender fingers locked together into a calm grip on a strong-thighed lap and all neutral expression if not for the tiniest tiniest smile quirking up at the corners of pale soft lips and all blue eyes blue eyes blue eyes. Icy. Never-ending. Unbelievably bright in the beam of the sun’s random ray. Not looking at you - but looking at the cross.

Staring at the big large mocking symbol hung up at the church’s zenith.

You swallowed.

‘Demons and sinners burst into flames when they come into contact with anything holy, okay? So don’t be a sinner.’ Your brother’s words rang in your head.

You’d never seen anyone burst into flames before.

Was The Devil untouchable because Hell was so hot? Or did God not care?

Or maybe… perhaps… they belonged there.

“You are thinking awfully loud, little lamb.”

You jumped.

The Lightbringer’s voice was so soft… angelic… glorious. With a gentle accent and a minor hush. Naturally quiet. Naturally lovely. It made you shiver.

You didn’t know how to respond. What could you possibly say to The Devil? What did they want to hear? Your eyes darted to the church’s double doors. If you wanted to leave, would they let you?

“You wish to go so soon?”

You couldn’t help but glance at them, noticing with a start that they were definitely closer than they had been before. A few rows closer, actually. So close that you could smell the scents of burning wood, rot, and damp stone. It made you swallow - and you quickly had to hold in a grimace when you felt the way the bouquet lavished your tongue. Like you were tasting it. Them.

Oh what a sinful thought…

A whisper so near you almost yelped had you gasping and falling backwards onto your palms.

“When I ask a question, I expect an answer.” The flowery softness from before was gone - and the scent was stronger, nearly hovering as your focus came back to you.

Again, they were closer. You could blink- you could glance away for a millisecond- you could disappear into your head with your eyes open- and somehow they still managed to close the distance. Less rows between you. Less pews. Less worship to be had - or more, if your heart’s fluttering was as loud as your ears made it out to be. And there was a burn in your cheeks likewise. As if you had had too much red wine, or like the sun decided to cast you as its new victim, or like The Devil had entered the room and… oh wait.

“S-sorry, I’m sorry,” you whimpered, immediately speaking without much thought because Lucifer’s attention was on you.

You.

Those brilliant icy blue eyes that put the stained glass to shame were on you. And that glorious head of glowing blonde curls was turned toward you. And their body- that body- could easily stand up and round those two rows in a split second and be by you. Looming over you…. Holding you…. Prying your mouth open and placing two long slender fingers on your tongue…

“Hm.” It was a small sound, accompanied by the most graceful head tilt you’d ever seen, and for some reason it had you straightening up and trying to pull yourself together.

The stupid position you were in was embarrassing. On your ass, leaning back on your hands, legs nearly spread - how unladylike. How… sinful. You quickly sat up onto your knees and dusted off your palms, trying not to take your eyes off of The Devil for too long just so they didn’t sneak up on you again. As it was, they were observing in silence. Watching as you pulled down the hem of your skirt and used the nearest pew to help you get to your feet. Once your legs stopped wobbling and you got yourself standing, you realized the extent of your predicament.

Lucifer Morningstar was tall.

Tall enough to be at eye level once you straightened your back. Tall enough to watch with the smallest of smug smirks as your eyes widened. As you realized that they were both tall and large. And muscular beneath that intimidating leather and heel get-up. You weren’t even sure where to look.

Those hands… long fingers indeed. And those legs… you had to try as hard as you could not to imagine the way those thighs would feel wrapping around your waist. And that neck… drool pooled into your mouth and glistened on your tongue and oh god you wanted to kiss that soft skin until The Devil turned red and started burning up. Until you started burning up. Until Hell became a distant memory, and the church began to look like Heaven. And those wings, oh you wanted them in your mouth. Beneath your fingertips. Between your lips, cradling your body, shielding your pleasure from the world. You wanted them. You yearned for them.

You stared at them, lost in utter thought.

And The Devil noticed.

Of course The Devil noticed.

The Devil noticed everything. The Devil saw everything.

“Curiouser and curiouser…,” The Lightbringer whispered, forcing your eyes away from those wings and onto their face.

That face. That porcelain face. Glorious, handsome, blurred beauty kind of face. Soft around the edges, hard where it counted. You wanted to run the pad of your finger along the bridge of their nose and kiss them until they panted for breath. You wanted to bring color to that pale complexion.

You wanted to. You really did.

But then your eyes slid over to the doors and you blinked.

Lead me not into temptation…

“I think I have to go.”

…but deliver me from Evil.

Your body began moving before your brain could catch up. Soon enough, you were one step- two steps- five steps- 12 steps- so close to getting the Hell out- so close to feeling normal again- so close to retaining purity!- only to get stopped by a strong thick wing being thrown up in front of your face. It unfurled with a whoosh and the very tip of your nose brushed against the soft membranous texture of The Devil’s glory. The wing wasn’t white, it wasn’t feathered, it wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t like an angel’s. It didn’t bring light the way the name suggested. No, it just brought darkness. And fear. Fear that bubbled up like poison, slowly spreading through your veins, slowly dragging on your mind. Forcing it down. Making you take a step back because The Devil wasn’t keen on you leaving and the sin that bombarded your thoughts was beginning to worry you.

“Please,” came your desperate whisper; your voice so soft it didn’t even echo.

“Please?” Lucifer responded, slow and gentle, drawing your eyes to their face. They were observing you again, perpetually amused. “What are you pleading for, little lamb?” And when your gazes met, you found that you didn’t know.

What were you pleading for? What was there to want? What could The Devil possibly give you that wouldn’t cause you to sell your soul? What could you gain from speaking to them?

What could you lose?

“I have to go.” You sounded like a broken record - a very unconvincing one because you didn’t move.

In fact, you didn’t do anything. Your purse was slipping off of your shoulder and your feet were hurting in your heels and perhaps going to the church right after getting off of work was not a good idea because you were starting to feel antsy in your proper clothing. Everything just felt too tight. Everything just felt too wrong. But you didn’t move. Their eyes were just so… you had no real words for it. Were they captivating? Most certainly. Were they entrancing? Without a doubt. Were they real? Yes, they looked pretty damn real staring into your soul like that from their little pewed perch. Yes, very real - very real and very attractive. You felt the urge to plead again, but before you could open your mouth, The Devil was standing.

Sliding off of the wood, slow and easy… like a snake… never taking their eyes off of you… stalking…

You were helpless as you watched The Devil’s lips part- soft and unhurried- glorious and plush.

“You already said that,” and a smirk spread like bubbling lava, dragging across their sculpted features like a chisel with marble, “Would you like me to believe it?” Their teasing brought a flush to your cheeks that you couldn’t shake - even when you took a stunned step back.

And again, you did not know the answer.

Not even when the dark shield of their wing was lowered and the church’s doors were revealed. Not even when the chance to run- to escape- to go- was right there. So close, but so far. Pulled back by your uncertainty. Pulled back by your curiosity.

It wasn’t everyday that The Devil walked into a church. And it wasn’t everyday that you were there to see it.

The sudden sound of shuffling had you making your decision… and your eyes were drawn to the ocean once more.

There was such clarity there - such brilliance. You wanted to drown in it. You wanted to shove your head into their hands and drown in whatever they had to say. You wanted to fall back down to your knees and slick your tongue along the rounded edge of their boot. You wanted them to defile you upon the cross, using powers you weren’t ever sure existed. You wanted to kiss them and you wanted them to kiss you. You wanted them to want you. Was that so terrible? Was that so wrong? Was it terrible to yearn for such things? In the moment, staring over the blonde hairs of their eyebrows and the platinum color of their lashes, you weren’t sure. How could something depicted as hideously demonous be so… so… full of divinity? How could they glow in the way that they did, lit by a stray gleam that didn’t seem to exist anywhere else? The rest of the church, after all, was lit by overhead lights that made your skin seem pale and sallow. But Satan looked radiant. You wanted to tell them that. You wanted to tell them everything.

“Shall I take that as a ‘no’, little lamb?” They whispered, their voice strangely feminine - soft and placating. You liked it. You swallowed.

“I… I don’t know what you want,” your voice shook.

“That wasn’t my question.”

Well. It seemed it was already too late. You had made your choice.

“Yes.”

And you watched in awe as the prettiest of smiles, the most holy of grins, stretched over those pink lips…

…and started burning you alive.

⊱꒦꒷꒦꒷︶︶꒷꒦꒷꒦⊰⊱꒦꒷꒦꒷︶︶꒷꒦꒷꒦⊰

I do so love The Lightbringer. I hope you liked this, small as it was. - Ripley x

⊱꒦꒷꒦꒷︶︶꒷꒦꒷꒦⊰⊱꒦꒷꒦꒷︶︶꒷꒦꒷꒦⊰

#fanfictionwriter #fanfic #fanfiction #rippersz #wlw fanfic #lucifer morningstar #the sandman #the sandman lucifer #lucifer morningstar the sandman #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer sandman x reader #gwendoline christie #gwendoline christie lucifer #they/them lucifer morningstar

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irreplaceable-ecstasyy · 1 year

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Old Flames

REQUEST: I swear I'm such a bitch for Lucifer and there's so little content for them-

Could I please request a Lucifer x angel/celestial being reader with a massive corruption kink and virginity loss?

Where maybe before the fall the reader was the one tempting/playing with lucifer and that lust for the reader is part of the fall? Now hundreds of years later it's Lucifer's turn to corrupt one of god's most prized creations as they try to bring about the reader's fall from grace in an act of revenge but slowly with the more time they spend together Lucifer remembers why they fall for the reader in the first place.

Reader gives into Lucifer's temptation eventually and even feels remorse for having them fall so through their loss of virginity chooses to join Lucifer on the throne of hell?

TW: Violent imagery, slight nsfw descriptions (very mild)

Word Count: 2751

[I absolutely do not know how to write smut but have some brief imagery and let your imaginations run wild. Also, no beta reader. We die like brave warriors]

You could remember the day of the Fall. Every last second of it. You had been there to see it for yourself. God had even thanked you for confiding in him. The tug of a sleeve, the malevolent thrill of your fellow celestials radiating as they praised their God for His work and the crowded throne room and the patter of footsteps echoing through the hallways. Servants, angels and creatures alike hurried to see the spectacle, hot on their heels for the best view. You knew what was happening and yet, you followed.

The excited chirping faded into whispers as the celestials led you through the door and onto a platform behind God’s extravagant throne. You found your seat among an array while the others continued to shuffle along to settle down, some quietly hissing at each other to swap seats for the better view. How the people chattered. Listening close enough, you could hear a familiar name being thrown around. Samael. They spat and scoffed as the name rolled off their tongues, as though cursed to even mention them. You knew what was to become of them. After all, it had been your doing.

A shared kiss, then another. Hands clawing at drapery, yearning to feel the warmth of one’s skin. Parted legs, and a sinful whisper of your name, demanding for more.

Recalling the memory in the presence of God was daring, but you stared ahead at the grand doors that would soon bring the crowd their show. You could feel your skin heat up, where their hands had caressed you, in places no person would ever think of touching. You allowed them to, but you never did succumb to the lust that they had. You could see the flame in their eyes. A gaze that could send you into trouble for giving in to temptation. You had not expected them to surrender themselves so willingly to the act of loving. Oh, but how intoxicating it had all been. Their moans filled you with delight, and every kiss you shared brought them inches closer to fate’s judgment.

You had them wrapped around your finger so easily.

A rattle of chains shook you out of your daze and it was then you realized how quiet it had become. The silence that had befallen upon the crowd was deafening but what was more unpleasant was the shriek of the chains as they dragged along the marbled floor, in the wake of its prisoner. Samael approached the throne with their head up high, their eyes shining with spite. They did not speak nor did they seem to have the intention of defending themselves, a foolish act, you thought, but God was not one to wait for formalities.

You could recite what he had said, word for word.

“How you are fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! How you are cut down to the ground, You who weakened the nations!”

His voice rang through the room. He berated and rebuked, harsh accusations spilling for all to hear that you had not been aware of. Lust, greed, wrath- A usurper of the throne. It was more than enough to rile up the people but no one dared to speak while their God was furious. They only cheered when the banishment was announced, and they grew louder at the first sign of corruption. The black feathers were sprouting, feathers that would soon fall. But not until Lucifer had fallen first.

They did not scream when the fall began but what had unsettled you greatly was the way they smiled as she shut their eyes, bracing themself for the rush. The liberation from this place.

You were greeted with the same smile after hundreds of years. How it haunted you all those years and here you were. Had it been a taunt? Had they known you were in the audience to see your work on them? Samael had never been a fool, and Lucifer certainly was not. Their reputation was unlike anything Samael had built for themself in Heaven. Hell was their domain and they were the ruler of this wretched place. God had made a mistake of banishing an angel who could climb no higher in Heaven to a place where they could reach the highest peak. And now you were their prisoner.

The chains dragged along the floor, shrieking on marble. A reflection of the Fall. You were not afraid to meet Lucifer for they were a face you had known all too well, but it was your fate you feared for. The Devil’s revenge was one to be wary of; it was how stories were made for children to fear the Devil’s deeds to those who were unkind. Tales of karma. It was time you received what you traded for.

There was no grand audience for you in the throne room but that smile. Draped in white, a mockery of divinity, Lucifer approached you in a few strides, soon looming over you. Their fingers brushed over the chains that bound your wrists and for a brief second, their hand touched yours with a burning numbness. You refused to bow your head, even as the touch ached at your flesh, but they seemed amused by your resistance.

“When my subjects told me that they had captured themselves a prize, I didn’t believe them. . .” they began slowly as their hand nudged your chin to look upwards. “And now I owe them an apology.”

“Did you ask for my capture?”

They hummed softly. “No. The demons do as they please, and angel hunting has been a favorite these days. But here they are with a celestial… My lucky day.”

”What did they do with the other angels?”

“I’m certain you can imagine it, my dear. Is cruelty not your specialty?” Lucifer chimed.

A stupid question. The Devil would never forget those who wronged them, Not even after centuries, but you were not afraid. The pet name made our skin crawl, but it was not out of disgust. The way they’d purred it. The same name they had always called you. “What do you want from me?”

“What do I want from you?” they repeated. Leaning in, they pulled at the chains to bring you closer. “I want you to listen is all. . .”

“I am listening,” you muttered. “It can’t be all.”

“No. I want you to listen… You saw me when I fell, but you don’t know the rest of it. I want you to know what you did to me.”

“I don’t need you to tell me. I know it”-

“Always so vain…” They pulled at the chains again to shepherd you to their iron throne. Settling down, they tugged at you until you were on your knees. “God’s little favorite. Did he ever tell you how an angel loses their wings as they fall…? How hard the crash is when you land. How every demon here awaits for their kill.”

“No, He never told me. No one else knows it either,�� you grumbled through gritted teeth.

“Well, I can tell you.” With a wave of their hand, the flames in the grand hearth rose to illustrate the tale. They flourished dangerously close but never flickered at your bare skin. Within it, you could see Lucifer’s figure as they fell, their blacking wings broken in the wind. “I thought it would be painless as I fell through the gates. I saw the blue sky embrace me and I felt free, for once in my life. But I’d forgotten something an archangel once told me. The higher you stand, the harder you fall.”

The flames flared brighter and a great flame engulfed Lucifer in the vision. You watched as their wings tore apart, feather by feather, flesh and bone, ripped raw from the gripping claws of the wind. They hurtled towards the ground faster and faster until the flames splashed in a great crash. You cowered away from the impact but you did not feel a sting at all. Blanketing you, Lucifer had stretched a wing to keep you from burning and when the fire simmered down, they folded it against their back. Featherless.

At the bottom of the hearth, you saw their figure lying there helplessly in a pool of their own blood. Gold rusting away into a deep brown. They had not screamed, just like you remembered, but the hurt you saw in their face did not need any more explanation. They laid there until the demons surrounded them but they did not tear them apart like they did to other angels. Before you could see any more, Lucifer waved their hand again and the fire returned to its original state.

“All because of a few stolen kisses and the way you made me beg for more,” they murmured. “You knew how to drive me wild, and I admit, I wasn’t careful. . .”

“If you want an apology”-

“You needn’t give such,” they interjected. “I should be thanking you. You’ve given me more power than I could ever imagine. . . You have made me God’s equal.”

Another flick of a hand, and the flames breathed back to life with another vision. The demons who found them picked them up and brought them to the courtyard of Hell, dressing them in a plain black cloak. The demons brought them no harm but the agony came from their mutilated flesh and wings. But the agony soon morphed into spite, and then into glory as Lucifer rose anew. Their wings were those of a dragon, one of the most powerful beings in the Endless, and gone were their wounds. No celestial held such power.

“Tell me. Did you know any of this?” they asked.

You shook your head. Chuckling softly, they motioned for you to stand with just a tip of their head and yanked you by the chains so that you were sat on their lap. A throne fit for pleasure. The Devil was tempting you like you had to them, but Desire had no charm on either of you in Hell. You were drawn to them, almost enchanted, and what did not help was the hand on your thigh inching dangerously close to immodesty.

“You’ve undone me, my dear, and I’ve never had the same ever again,” they purred as their grip tightened on you. “Do you still think of the way my hands brushed against your skin? Do you crave it?”

“You’re bold to assume such!” A bold lie.

“Oh, be careful, my dear. You cannot lie to the devil. Is it not a sin to lie?” they challenged as their hand hikes up your robes. The other grasped your chin, forcing you to look at them. “God will have me punish you for it. He has had me sever the tongues of liars but I have always so loved that sharp tongue of yours. How it snaps.”

Had the circumstances been different, you would have already brought your lips to theirs. Centuries of being apart, it took a toll on you for there was no one else in Heaven who would give in to your antics. Despite it all, you held yourself back. You caught their wrist before their hand went any further but turning away from their grip did nothing. The feeling stirring inside of you; could it be panic or fear? A fear of losing to temptation or being judged by God? Which was it?

“You have given your thanks,” you spoke. “Now, why hold me in chains if you there is nothing more?”

Another chuckle. They fiddled with your chains as they brought their lips to your ear. “I want you to join me here,” they whispered, their breath tickling your ear. “Heaven has nothing for you but here? I can give you everything you’ve ever wanted.”

“You’re out of your mind- You could not possibly”-

For the nth time, Lucifer rendered you speechless. There was no one who could ever bring you to silence with just a look but Lucifer had you in a chokehold. Looking into their eyes, it was not lust you saw but. . . care. The look they had always given you when you would take them had never been desire but a deeper affection that you never allowed yourself to believe. You had seen the same look whenever you would pass each other in corridors or walk together in the Gardens. The pain you had caused them could not waver such feelings, you wondered how it was possible. It could be the power you had given them, but it could never forgive deception. It was a hard truth to face; one you did not deserve.

It surprised Lucifer themself that they would offer you something so valuable. A seat at the right hand of the ruler of Hell, another step of power. Through the years, they had been plotting your corruption, basking in the anticipation of seeing you fall one day. They were not nearly as good at deception as you were but they knew your feelings were true for them from the first time you shared a kiss. They had stalked you in the shadows, waiting for the right time to strike but whenever they had their chance, they found themselves fawning. They would retreat, plot then return to try again but each time, they would stop to watch over you instead. You had never changed. You were always kind, even to them in times of rebellion against the way Heaven functioned. It was never in your character to put someone through pain, even when you knew it was wrong. It was all God’s work.

You never had a choice in the way you lived. Residing in Hell under their own ruling, they finally knew what freedom tasted like and there was nothing for them to avenge for you had been the one to set them free from Heaven. They did not question if you had known it would redeem her freedom. What happened was past, and they were grateful.

Presently, Lucifer knew what they were doing for you. To be corrupted here meant saving you from the Fall. You would still land in their arms upon arriving here, safe from the harm of their subjects, but after the story they had told you, you realized that it had all been out of love to save you from going through what they did. It had not been a threat but a warning.

On top of it all, you could be here to love them without the fear of God’s unforgiving rule. Had all this been in Fate’s design?

“Even… Even after everything I’ve done to you?” you asked in shame.

“What you’ve done to me has been for the better. If you stay with me, you can do anything you want.” Their grip on your chin loosened, and it became a delicate touch. Their thumb brushed over your bottom lip. “No one will be here to judge us for being who we want to be. Loving who we want to love.”

A deal with the Devil had never sounded sweeter. You were willing to give everything to them. Your love, your affection and your purity. It was all it took to be corrupted. It was so easy losing it all than keeping it, but in Hell, you were free of such a system. There were no virtues to uphold and no laws that forced you to be as you were expected. You could be anything you wanted, do anything you wanted.

Taking Lucifer’s cheeks into your palms, you brought them into a kiss. Soft and gentle, as if you were worried about hurting them again. They returned more than happily and they enveloped you in their arms in a warm embrace. You missed this terribly and now you could have it all for lifetimes. You pulled away for breath and pressed your forehead against theirs.

“Take me… Please.”

“Your wish is my command, my dear, dear Celestial…”

The moment you were unshackled, you threw your arms around their neck and caught her lips in another kiss. Greedy. Lustful. You had not a care in the world except for making up with Lucifer for centuries of depravity and the guilt of abandoning them. You gave them everything that made you an angel, and you were never turning back. Not when they had stripped you bare of your robes and especially not when they marked your perfect skin.

You were theirs to keep in Hell forever.

Could I please request a Lucifer x angel/celestial being reader with a massive corruption kink and virginity loss?

Reader gives into Lucifer's temptation eventually and even feels remorse for having them fall so through their loss of virginity chooses to join Lucifer on the throne of hell?

#lucifer morningstar #lucifer sandman #lucifer the sandman #the sandman lucifer #lucifer #gwendoline christie #lucifer x reader #lucifer sandman netflix #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer sandman x reader #i need more lucifer content out there #nat.txt

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theswordmaiden · 4 months

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The Only one I'd ever Worship

Lucifer Morningstar x Fem!Reader

first time writing for Lucifer, which has been sitting in my docs for 2 months (:

warnings: NSFW fingering, slight degrading/praise?, thigh riding, slight blasphemy?, etc // word count: 2507

The Lightbringer's hand tightened possessively around your waist, leaving the faint outline of a bruise in its wake — one you'd wear proudly for such devotion. A subtle reminder of who you belonged to, of who owned you, and it was a reminder that you welcomed greedily, relishing in the feeling of being theirs.

As they mindlessly traced patterns down your body, you couldn't help but shiver from the intimacy of their touch, the familiarity it felt to have their warm fingertips against your cool skin — fingertips molding against you like clay, leaving the faint tingling sensation that nipped at your flesh whenever they pulled away.

Allowing their touch to continue to roam, now crawling up your abdomen, nails scratching against the softness of your stomach, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps in their wake that left you shivering. Lucifer's hands now cup your breasts, kneading and molding them to their touch, a low moan escaping from your lips as you pressed yourself closer to them; a silent plea for more.

As their thumbs traced slow, lazy circles over your hardening nipples, your breath caught in your throat. Trying to suppress any further noises, you tilted your head to the side, sinking your teeth into the sensitive flesh of your bottom lip as they continued their torturous teasing. "What's wrong, my lamb?" They'd coo in faux concern against one of your ears, letting their hot breath ghost down the side of your throat, leaving your skin prickled with goosebumps in its wake. The Devil knew exactly where and how to touch you, bringing you to the brink of ecstasy, allowing you to feel Heaven's call to you with open arms, to welcome you back. . . only to hold you there, teasingly, never allowing you inside the gates of release until they deemed you worthy of such a feat.

Of course, they'd indulge in your pleasures from time to time, which was how you found yourself in your current predicament; Lucifer sat on their throne, the flickering flames that lined the hall giving them a false halo framed above their head, as you — their most prized possession, the sweetest angel so obediently eager to please your Lord — were perched on top of their lap, grinding your needy cunt against one of their thighs.

"Please," came your pleading voice, heavy with an insatiable thirst of desire, as your head fell backwards against their shoulder, fitting perfectly into the crook they so perfectly provided.

"Hm? Please what, my pretty pet?" they asked with a soft hum, amusement twinkling within their eyes as they peered down at you through long blonde lashes that wisped against the soft pinkness of their cheeks. Lucifer pulled you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing your back against their chest. "Tell me what it is you desire, angel."

"Please, your Majesty," you'd beg once more, desperate for their touch and the release only they could provide you, that only they could give you. ". . need your touch." Your voice, so full of yearning and longing, so pathetic yet perfect to please your Devilish master with.

The Lightbringer chuckled darkly in a twisted mix of pleasure and power, reveling in how easily you fell into submission for them. They lifted a hand to the side of your face and traced the back of their knuckles down your cheek gently, before roughly gripping the sides of your chin and jerking your head back to meet their gaze. A quiet mewl drew from the depths of your throat at the action, leaving your clit throbbing as your hips continued to eagerly move against them, desperate to seek friction to relieve the ache.

"Look at you," Lucifer taunted, their gaze roaming down every inch of your covered form and back up again. As the Devil's arm unraveled their hold, their hand now found its way to your hip, guiding your movements back and forth into their lap at their own desired pace. "Spread apart for the Ruler of Hell," they sneered, "How desperate are you, silly angel? Such a pathetic pet, so willing to please your Lord."

The hand that was gripping your chin relinquished you, once again turning gentle as their fingertips slowly brush through your hair, tucking away any loose strands that were impending their access to your skin. "Does it feel good, you dirty little thing?" they whispered so softly, lips ghosting across the shell of your ear and moving to the newly exposed flesh of your throat. “To be the only one I’d ever worship?”

Lucifer's chest rumbled with a low growl as they scraped their sharp teeth against the pulse point, sinking into the flesh and sucking on it harshly. Marking you—Claiming you as theirs. Their perfect pet, such a desperate thing you were, weren't you? So pathetic that your hips rolled faster against their flexed thigh as you whimpered in response to their bite, a muffled 'God, yes' pulling from your throat in response to their question as you moaned. . .

. . . only to earn an amused huff from the Demon Lord as they pulled away, leaving behind a mark that they soothed with a soft and tender kiss. "God?" they repeated, the word dripping with bitterness as it rolled off their sharp tongue. "Aren't you just a good little angel, still having faith in Him.."

They leaned in close to your ear once more and whispered, "Tell me, my beautiful lamb. . Do you still pray to him while I play with your needy hole? Do you hope that He and your angel brethren watch as I make you cum over and over again on my just fingers alone?"

Your cheeks burned at the Devil's words, a mixture of shame and arousal washing over you while you squirmed in their lap, brows pinched together as you bit your bottom lip. There was certainly some truth to it, there was no denying that — just as there was no denying how depraved you felt at the thought of Him watching, to see just how low you've truly fallen for your lover. How your stomach fluttered at just the thought of riding their fingers, the walls of your cunt greedily pulsating around their lithe digits, wanting to milk the sensation as long as you could. .

..oh, patience is a virtue, little one. . .

But as the Lightbringer continues to tease you, their touch lowering to the bottom of that pristine white toga adorned on your body, grasping at the hem and gently pulling it up to bunch at your waist, all rational thoughts fled from your mind. All you could think of was them. Their touch, taste, smell — oh, it drove you mad with lust and desire. The throbbing heat between your plush thighs grew, and you were sure, no, absolutely positive, that your underwear was entirely ruined.

Thinking you've had enough of the torture for now... Lucifer's hands slowly trailed back up your body until they reached your chest once more, squeezing your breasts through the thin silk fabrics that covered them. "Such a sensitive little thing," they cooed, pinching and rolling your nipples between their thumb and forefingers for a moment before releasing. Sliding back down your stomach, their hands then move your legs further apart, nails scratching against the material of your panties before sliding beneath it and through the soft curls of your mound until finally reaching your wet slit.

"Oh, my poor pet," Lucifer purred in delight, enjoying the way you trembled against their touch, causing their leather wings to twitch and flutter proudly behind them on their throne, "you're soaked."

Two fingers swipe between your folds, pulling away just before reaching your swollen clit. As you whined in displeasure, earning a tut from the Devil, they brought their hand up to inspect their fingers — your arousal webbed in between, glistening.They turned to face you, bringing their hand closer to your lips.

"Open your mouth." Your mouth instantly falls open before the two digits now pressed against the velvety texture of your tongue, slowly curling downwards. Without needing further instructions, you happily wrapped your lips around the entirety of them and sucked the tangy taste of yourself off of them, tongue swirling around.

And if you were to peer up at your lover, you'd find the Devil watching eagerly with darkened eyes, a slight twitching just beneath the scar of their lip as a rumbling growl escaped from in between them. They slowly pulled back after a moment, a web of your spit connected from their flesh and your lips, more than satisfied with your obedient nature, now wiping the back of their fingers across your face to rid of your saliva before moving to your clothing.

"I want you to watch, sweet one.." their voice husked against your ear, the darkness of their gaze lowering to your chest as careful hands remove the straps of your toga and unfasten the golden belt, allowing it to cascade down your form like water to gather into a pile of silks on the ground. "..the way I touch my beloved pet." Two long fingers hook around the band of your panties and pull them down with ease, exposing your already pulsating cunt to the warmth of the Underworld's air.

Your hips bucked against the palm of their hand as it returned to your heat, the palm pressed deliciously against your clit as their slender digits spread apart your folds, tracing the tips of their fingers around your entrance and a pathetic whine escaping from your throat that left the Lightbringer chuckling.

"I love to hear how desperate my little lamb gets for my touch," they coo in the sickly sweet voice that leaves your face warm and a hue of pink blooming across the apples of your cheeks. "Look at how wet you are for me, I've hardly touched you." The Devil spoke so softly against your ear, pressing lazy kisses against the shell of it as they dipped the entirety of their fingers into you with ease, growling as they felt your walls fluttering around them.

"I could spend eternity between these legs, my darling girl.."

Lucifer's other hand reached up to return to playing with your nipples, rolling the taut buds before giving them a sharp pinch. Their name spilled from your lips as they began to move their fingers in and out, curling it into the spongy sweet spot that left you growing wetter — the sopping wet noises from between your thighs only spurred your Devil further, their pace growing a bit faster while their thumb stretched out to rub tight circles to your clit.

The way they toyed with you only made you more desperate to chase the taste of release, and -you ever so obediently- spread your legs as wide as you could for them. Lucifer purred in delight as they whispered soft nothings into your ear, once or twice pulling their fingers out of you entirely to deliver a quick slap! to your cunt before returning their fingers to where they belonged with a newfound vigor.

“Such a beautiful sight.” “You take it so well. . Like you were created just for me.” “Who does this belong to?” “That’s right. Mine.”

The fire in your body grew as Lucifer's fingers thrust in and out of you with ease, dripping desperately down the length of their fingers and your own thighs. Every touch, every whispered word, sent jolts through your body, building the already growing desire to cum for them higher and higher; always pushing you to the edge before pulling away when you spasmed too much, giving you a minute to cool down before returning right back to relentlessly tormenting the aching Heaven between your thighs. They'd chuckle at each of your mumbled words of protests, only to shut you up by returning to rub against your swollen clit.

"Luci-oh! Please. . ple- please," your poor little mind was too lost in your daze to form a coherent thought, eyes clouded over by a fog of pure pleasure as you mindlessly babbled. "Let me cum, please- please, my Lord." Your body - hell, your entire soul - sang with desire for them to the point it was almost overwhelming, tears building up in your eyes as they oh so cruelly denied such a blissful state to flood you. .

Lucifer could only chuckle, feeling their lips curling into a smirk at the sight of you, quivering and clenching around them. The hand that had been playing with your breasts slid up to gently wrap their fingers around your throat, applying just enough pressure to silently bring your attention to them. "Such a needy thing, aren't you?" they spoke gently, leaning in close so their hot breath fanned across the side of your face. Another squeeze, though slightly tighter, as if demanding a response.

"Yes.. my- my Lord," you somehow managed to form out through the tightness in your throat. "Please.. ah- let me cum," you continued to beg, unable to take the edging much longer.

"Cum for me," Lucifer spoke through ragged breath. "Show me just how much you need me." And with those words, their hand loosened from your throat and held your hip instead, leaving an indent to the flesh, as their fingers grew into a relentless pace. Your body writhed against them, arching off from their chest as your mouth fell open, the most unforgiving of obscenities spewing from your tongue as you grind harder against their hand.

With one final curl to their fingers that hit the most delectable spot, your orgasm crashed over you. Your entire body shook and trembled as you tightened around them, the Devil slowing their pace to allow you to ride your high, as every nerve grew hot with pleasure until you were nothing but a quivering mess in their arms.

Your legs — still twitching and now aching from the prolonged position, covered in a light blanket of perspiration — fell limp against Lucifer, dangling over the length of their legs and you collapsed back into them. Carefully their fingers withdrew from your slick heat once your breathing evened out, licking their fingers clean before wrapping a wing around you to keep you close. Reassuring praise and hums left their lips as they kissed and pecked at your cheek and down to your shoulder.

"Sh, shh, my darling," Lucifer cooed, gazing down at you with a soft smile as they took in your tired expression. "Such a good girl for me, weren't you? Hm?" You could feel their warm lips against your skin, both soothing and comforting, as you gave a quiet hum in response while you basked in the afterglow from your climax.

As your head rested against their chest, feeling the steady beating of their heart beneath your ear, they continued to hold you; slowly running their fingers through your hair, the sensation making your eyes grow heavier until inevitably falling shut. They'd hold you like this until you woke, only to repeat it all over again for the rest of eternity.

. . though who would complain?

─────⋅⋆.‧₊☆₊‧.⋅⋆─────────⋅⋆.‧₊☽₊‧.⋅⋆─────────⋅⋆.‧₊☆₊‧.⋅⋆─────

this is sick and i need to be put down. immediately. sorry this is horrible it's been a while. you can tell where i got burnt out at the end lol.

#lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar x reader #the sandman lucifer #the sandman lucifer smut #sandman lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar the sandman #gwendoline christie #gwendolinechristie #theswordmaiden

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hiddlepiddle1981 · 1 year

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I immediately thought of lady d when i saw this pic of Gwen

#GWENDOLINE CHRISTIE IS THE PERFECT LADY DIMITRESCU #Someone give her a hat #gwendoline christie #gwendolineuniverse #larissa weems #brienne of tarth #captain phasma #game of thrones #lucifer sandman #miranda hilmarson #star wars #the sandman #wednesday #lgbtq #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitriscu x reader #resident evil #alcina dimitrescu

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emomensimp · 2 years

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When your emo boss ghosts everyone

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unmeisenpai · 28 days

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Ok here’s some random omega vers with Brienne because I couldn’t resist yall reading it. Also ❌18+❌ ONLY MDI, omega verse, Brienne being a top, biting/ marking, breeding kink. I think that’s everything please lmk if I missed anything and I hope yall enjoy.

Slamming

“Brienne…mmm.please….slow down.”

Your legs were numb, as Brienne slammed you into the wall. Your whole body off the ground, as she held you in her strong arms.

You never expected your knight, Lord commander of the Kings guard, Ser Brienne of Tarth would be taking you roughly, behind a brothel.

You hadn’t seen her in 8 years, and ever since she left Tarth you heard nothing of her whereabouts, if she was dead or alive.

So when you received a raven from Kings Landing, inviting you to stay in the castle as a personal guest of the Lord Commander. You never expected to see Brienne standing by the Kings side, clad in Gold armor and looking like a Goddess of War.

Now here you are being filled to the brim by the very knight you longed for.

Your arms warped around her neck, as she slams into you biting down on your shoulder. You want to scream at her pace and grunts, but you keep yourself quiet, and decide to bite her instead.

She hisses at that, and grunts into your ear as she digs her nails into your thighs and slams you into the wall harder and harder with each thrust.

“Brienne take me, I’m yours I always have been.” Her only response to your words is her hand moving towards your clit and rubbing tight circles onto it. You hissed at that and did your best not to scream.

Her thrusts grew needy and desperate, as she chanted your name over and over.

“Destiny you’re mine, I’ll never let you go.”

Her thrusts become erratic as she cries out your name, you know you can’t take much more, so you call out to her.

“Brienne I can’t… I’m going to…” She understands your meaning and kisses you roughly, in that moment you can feel her fill you to the brim with her seed. Your whole body reacts and you can’t help but cum on her cock, as you scream her name.

#gwendoline christie #gwendolineuniverse #larissa weems #brienne of tarth #brienne x reader #the sandman lucifer x reader #brienne of tarth x reader #larissa x reader #jane murdstone x reader #wallpaper #top brienne #ser brienne #Brienne x oc

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yourlocaldisneyvillain · 8 months

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belong (nsfw)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Sumarry: Lucifer is always so very gentle with you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A/N: Inspired by this fic, but I made it dark. Sorry? TW: non-con TAGS: #bathtub sex #aftercare #implied sexual content #non-explicit sex #post-coital cuddling #implied/referenced dubious consent #soul selling #pondering the nature of free will and soul contracts #sort of psychological thriller vibes but not really #dubious consent #deal with a devil #love bites #implied rough sex #light praise kink

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

taglist: @opheliauniverse @zephyr-is-tired @dumbasslesbi @bychrissi @scream-queenlover @muffintopxs @bigolgay @gwenslucifer @weemswife @yourhauntedhead @carnivorousflowers @softshrimpy @willowshadenox @syrenacrainn @weemssapphic @dianneking @imprincipalweemspet @kimiinou @ninelesbien @i-love-nerdy-stuff @eveymay @myzzjolanda @pluied-ete @brienneswife @gwenzone @principal-weems09 @inlovewithalcinadimitrescu @gela123 @emilynissangtr @gwendolinechristieiscute @h-doodles @winterfireblond @larissaoftarthweems @a-queen-and-her-throne @bikergurl5 @salems-spaghettios @theflashesoflove @catechristiesstuff @vendocrap8008 @billiedeansbitch @coffeemelko @lilfartbox1 @amateurwritescm @daydream-cement @kaymariesworld @sicklygrlsicklygrl @wh0re4women @rippersz @milfsloverblog

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Sprawled against the Devil’s chest in a grand bathtub next to the fireplace, you don’t think it can get better than this. Their soft breasts pressed against your back, their nimble fingers tracing patterns on your chest and stomach, their warm breath on your neck. Their soft lips on the sensitive skin of your jaw, their hair tickling you, their touch gentle and caring. It’s all like a dream. The softest, sweetest, most wonderful dream — the kind that you have right before you ought to wake up.

Ah, it’s just what your sore and aching body needs.

The water is hot, and yet your lover’s touch makes you shiver. Gooseflesh appears on your skin. You wince when they caress a dark bruise their teeth left on your breast.

“Aren’t you a sensitive little thing,” they say, and the low rumble next to your ear causes another shiver to run down your spine. Their voice is lilting and melodious — sweet and delicious and oozing like caramel. Just for that voice alone, you’d do anything.

Anything is a dangerous promise.

They kiss the painful, throbbing love-bite on your neck. A sharp gasp escapes you.

“Tell me, have I been too rough with you? I forget how… fragile mortals can be.”

They’ve been less than gentle with you, that much is true. And yet, you can’t find it in yourself to mind. The pain brought with it indescribable pleasure. It left you aching and sensitive and marked with bruises, but pleasurably spent. However, you’re content to be pampered with gentle touch and a hot bath with fragrant oils and salts — you don’t think you could take anything more than utmost tenderness right now.

“You haven’t,” you say, and they chuckle into your ear — a low, deep sound, a puff of air against your earlobe.

“Liar,” they whisper into your ear. You can feel them smile against it. “Don’t worry, my sweet lamb. I intend to be nothing but gentle with you now that I’ve had my fun.”

Their warm breath on your ear has an intoxicating effect on you. You close your eyes and smile stupidly, leaning into them as much as you can, wanting to be as close to them as possible.

“Sweet thing,” they say and run their hand down your torso, down, down until they reach between your legs. You wince when they touch the bruised and abused bundle of nerves nestled between your lower lips. It’s painful, rather than pleasurable.

“Lucifer,” you say softly, and they make a little circle with their fingers. Your abdominal muscles convulse and you hiss. “Please, I can’t take it.”

“No?” they ask softly and plant a kiss on your neck. “But I am being so very gentle.”

They gently flick their fingers over the little bud and you buck your hips involuntarily. You try to move away from the painful touch, but there is nowhere to go. You are engulfed by their much larger body, by their gentle, but unrelenting hands. “Please,” you breathe, “I can’t.”

“The human body is wondrous thing. It entertains me greatly to see how much my touch affects you,” they say almost conversationally. They rub gentle circles, but even the lightest pressure makes you cry out in pain. However, hidden somewhere beneath the pain, distant pleasure starts to build. It grows in your lower belly, warm and steady.

Belonging to the Devil isn’t something one should take lightly.

“Sweet, sweet lamb — how you amuse me. It feels good, doesn’t it?” they whisper softly, their voice a soothing lullaby in your ear. “Tell me, do you wish me to stop?”

You open your mouth to say yes, but words evade you. “I can’t,” you say instead.

“Of course you can,” they say, saccharine sweet. “Do you want me to show you?”

No, you want to say, but the words don’t come. “It hurts,” you whine.

You’re hot — aching and throbbing, your lungs full of steam rising from the bath, hyperaware of their body pressing into your own, of their breath on your ear. They are inexorable, rubbing gentle circles, making you pant and whimper. The once distant pleasure emerges through the pain, stronger, clearer than before.

“Poor thing,” they coo, sugary sweet. “So sensitive, and yet doing so well for me. So obedient. Such a good girl.”

Their voice renders you dizzy and confused. What is it you wanted to say?

“Do you want me to stop?” they ask again and press harder. You cry out. They laugh into your neck — a warm gush of air and a sound of angel-bells ringing.

Stop, yes, stop — that’s what you wanted to say — but they rub harder and faster and then overwhelming, all-consuming pleasure washes over you. The intensity of it crashes and then ebbs and flows like a wave. You’re distantly aware of your own cries and the Devil’s soft words.

“See, my sweet dove? You can.”

But I didn’t want to, you think — a distant, hazy thought, something you can almost grasp.

They whisper soft words of encouragement into your ear, and their voice ebbs and flows not unlike the pleasure in your belly. You convulse and ache and grip their arm, and they shush you, hold you, and caress you.

It takes a while before the pain and the pleasure subside. You’re sore and achey and spent — even more so than before. You didn’t think it possible.

“I…” you try to speak.

“You…?” they mock you sweetly.

“I didn’t…”

“Didn’t you?,” they say, smiling into your neck. You can feel the sharpness of their teeth against your skin.

I didn’t, you want to say, but you aren’t so sure anymore. A pleasant, blissful sleepiness weighs on your limbs like a heavy cloak. You drift in and out of sleep as the Devil gently cleans your sweaty skin, rubs your scalp, washes your hair and peppers soft kisses over your abused body. Tender, beautiful aftercare — exactly what you need — and oh, they do it so lovingly.

It isn’t until you’re dried off and carefully carried and laid upon the bed — on the most exquisite and decadent silken sheets — that you find it in yourself to speak. You’re sleepy, so terribly sleepy, and yet you manage to ask what’s been on your mind for some time now.

“Lucifer…” you manage to utter, softly and quietly.

“Yes?” they ask as they settle next to you, pulling you close, wrapping their arms around your waist. They bury their nose into your hair and inhale deeply.

“Do I… have agency? Now, after the…”

They wrap a wing around you, shielding you and covering you as if with a blanket. “Of course you do. You can have anything you desire.”

They’re right — you do get everything you desire. And yet, what agency does someone — something — that belongs have? Is a plaything allowed to desire? And if it is, do they just end up desiring what their Master wants?

“Really?” you murmur. Your eyelids are heavy with sleep. A wonderful, warm feeling, and yet there is something underneath it. You can almost remember what it is.

“Name it and it is yours, little lamb.”

Yes, yes, it is true, you think as you snuggle closer to them. They’re warm and they smell like burning wood — comforting, like a fire that chases away the winter cold that wants to settle in one’s very bones. It’s true, you think — they always ask what you want.

It’s just that you always seem to want exactly what they do.

You want to ask something else, but it escapes you. Something on the tip of your tongue you can’t quite grasp. A question, a flickering light you can’t quite catch.

You sigh softly and drift into sleep — warm and safe in Lucifer’s embrace. Who knows, maybe if you stayed awake just a tad longer, you’d have remembered what you wanted to ask.

Indeed — selling one's soul to the Devil isn’t something one should take lightly.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

#lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer sandman #lucifer smut #sandman lucifer #the sandman 2022 #gwendoline christie #i will write my own garbage and also consume it

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daydream-cement · 8 months

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Aftercare (lightly NSFW)

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

Lucifer seems to be gaining feelings for a little human who was once just a toy.

Author’s Note: Just a random snippet of soft Luci <3

Getting you up to Lucifer’s chambers was an easy process as the angel swept you off your feet once they had finished with you. Your body was covered in love bites from your evening of love making. The Morningstar had challenged you to a new level of heightened pleasure that now left you unable to move.

When you were helped onto Lucifer’s bed, you trembled as you forced your legs open for the Lightbringer. The blonde chuckled in response, shaking their head as they had no interest in forcing you through any additional orgasms. With a large, firm hand, Lucifer gripped your thigh and pressed it to the other, “No more tonight, dearest. You and I are going to explore aftercare. Have you ever done that before?”

You shook your head, your body releasing its tension at the notion of being done for the night. “No…”

“First, we will get you cleaned up. Can you stand well enough for a shower, my darling? I will get you all washed up.”

With a quiet nod, you crawled to the edge of the bed and stood on wobbly legs. Lucifer met you and wrapped an arm around your back and another under your legs to lift you from the bed. They carried you to their washroom, turning on the shower once you entered.

They wanted the water nice and hot to relax your body. While it heated up, they pushed you against the bathroom sink to press soft kisses against your face and neck. Lucifer’s taller form pressed against yours, your face level with their breasts. Their hands wandered around your body, not squeezing or groping as they had been merely an hour earlier, but softly admiring every bit of your form.

“Did I go too rough, little angel?”

You shook your head ‘no’ even when the answer was ‘yes’, not wanting Lucifer to think you couldn’t handle more the next time around. You would do anything to please the fallen angel.

The Morningstar pressed a final kiss to your forehead and guided you to the shower. They took to scrubbing your body, smirking as they gazed upon the marks they left behind. “Look at these marks… A work of art.”

You smiled fondly at the possessiveness, your arms winding around their frame to hold them close. Lucifer’s hands traveled between your legs, gently cleaning you and trying to avoid irritating the spots sore from fucking. “I would like you to accompany me to my meetings tomorrow…”

You whimper as the blonde’s fingers push too hard against your clit, the sensation more pain than pleasure, “Really?”

“Yes, kitten… I want you there with me.” There was no hiding the obvious twinge of pride in Lucifer’s tone.

The Morningstar slipped around to your backside, hands continuing to caress your tummy and thighs. They guided you out of the path of the water and began washing your hair, earning a high pitched hum of appreciation from you. Their words just above a whisper when they began rinsing the shampoo out, “But you don’t have to. As much as I enjoy you being at my side, you are not obligated, darling. I just want you to be happy.”

“Making you happy, makes me happy.” You said simply, turning around in their arms and nuzzling into their chest.

Lucifer chuckled at the sentiment and added conditioner to their hands, combing it through your hair. “You already do by being with me. Now, be a good pet and rinse your hair. I need to finish my own shower.”

You remained quiet, moving to do as you were told.

Lucifer washed up their own body, their eyes drifting to you every few seconds to check on you. They adored you and the love you had for them. With each day the two spent together, the Morningstar felt themself only growing more possessive and protective over you. It was becoming hard to spend time without you near.

After their shower, Lucifer took their time drying off your body, shifting to sit on the edge of the bathtub and draw you to stand before them. They pressed kisses to your chest and abdomen and smiled up at you fondly, “I want you to rest well tonight. I can’t have my darling hurting.”

You smiled softly at the care Lucifer showed you, your hands teasing at their blonde locks to show them your own affection. “Can we watch a movie tomorrow? After you finish your meetings…”

“Of course, dearest. You know I love your human films. Now get your pajamas on.”

You were the one to press a kiss to the Morningstar’s lips before hobbling off to the room you had begun sharing. The blonde proceeded with their nighttime routine and adjourned to the bedroom just in time to see you crawling into bed. The sight brought a smile to the Lightbringer’s face, and they felt grateful they were going to be crawling into bed with you.

After turning out the lights, Lucifer climbed into bed after you, weaving an arm around your waist and drawing you in to snuggle. With their hands on either side of your face, the Morningstar encouraged you to rest your face between the blonde breasts. They began stroking your locks, “Did you have fun tonight, my child?”

“Mhm. I liked riding you… You looked so powerful…” You closed your eyes and wistfully pictured yourself n reverse cowgirl, getting fucked nice and hard by the strap they had attached to their form. They had been absolutely delighted with the sight of you unraveling before them.

“Mmm… We may need to try it again, only next time I will ride you? Then you can be the one to make me moan.”

You giggled at the thought, snuggling closer. Your hands wandered inside their robe and around Lucifer’s waist to dance across their back.

“Now it’s time for bed. Please wake me if you need anything.” Lucifer slowly closed their eyes, adjusting their position to rest their chin on the top of your head. With two deep breaths, the angel began to give way to the sweet temptation of sleep.

“I… love you….” You murmured, not considering the consequences of sharing these never before spoken words.

Lucifer seemed stunned, taken aback even. They paused for a pregnant moment, never considering before how they could be loved by another. The silence made you feel sick, but you had no regrets in sharing your feelings. Only if you could have seen the way Lucifer stared at you through the darkness. A gazed filled with more love and admiration than even the Morningstar thought they were capable of.

“I love you as well. Now please try and sleep, dearest lamb.”

Taglist: @charymobile, @bri-sonat, @opheliauniverse, @enchantressb, @renravens, @whenyouhaveanobsession, @scream-queenlover, @shyladyfan, @rubberduckiesbathing, @peanutbutterprincess, @larissaoftarthweems, @lvinhs, @myzzjolanda, @principal-weems09, @imlike-so-gaydude, @emilynissangtr, @xuukoo, @brienneswife, @dumbasslesbi, @oculusalien, @sweetderacine, @giogwensversion, @milciak, @gela123, @thevillagegay, @katiemcgrathsbitch1, @naomi-m3ndez, @mysaviorfalsegod, @salems-spaghettios, @imgayforwoman69, @bychrissi, @h-doodles, @alexusonfire, @weemssapphic

#lucifer morningstar (sandman) x reader #gwendoline christie #fanfic #lucifer morningstar (sandman)#the sandman #gwen christie #aftercare #fluff

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littledollll · 8 months

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Lucifer, walking towards y/n very fast (too graceful to run): “Angel, darling, my love, my heart- there’s a spider in the room-“

Y/n, confused: “okay.. what do you want me to do?”

Lucifer, now hyperventilating: “KILL IT!? I’m sorry I’m sorry. Kill it, please. Get rid of that thing.”

Y/n, holding back their laughter: “you’re the literal devil.. and you’re scared of a spider?”

Lucifer, about to cry: “JUST KILL IT. YOU CAN BULLY ME LATER.”

This series was inspired by a conversation with my dear friend @v3nusxsky so props to her for inspiring the spider trilogy!

#random littledollll #spider trilogy #lucifer sandman #gwendoline christie #the sandman #sandman lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar the sandman

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milfsloverblog · 9 months

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Hello, I’ve been reading your fics for a couple of months and would like to say that your writing is incredible. Thank you for writing such good stories ! Can I ask for some crumbs of whatever you are working on atm ? -🌼

Hiya!! Thank you so much for the kind words 🩷

I’m currently working on a pre-fall!Lucifer x Angel!reader story, here’s a small sneak peek!

“Something is worrying you,” They said, their fingertips reaching the apex of your thigh and grazing against your bare core. “Talk to me, my Angel.”

You knew you weren’t their Angel, and you would never be. You belonged to God, and so did they. But you wanted to, you wished to be theirs so badly. And that’s exactly what you were worried about.

#lucifer sandman x reader

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rippersz · 22 days

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𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐬

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Zombie Apocalypse AU w/ Gwendoline Christie characters; (~9.2K words)

(Featuring: Larissa Weems, Brienne of Tarth, Jane Murdstone, Anna from WTM, Lucifer Morningstar, Miranda Hilmarson, Captain Phasma, and Jan Stevens) x Reader

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

It started about two months ago. Russia went down first, then Mongolia. China. India. And in the midst, Finland, Sweden, Norway, the United Kingdom, down to the very southern tip of Africa. The Ocean is no killer of disease, frozen or not, and encouraged it to ravage South and North America, then Canada and Greenland. Until every place was overrun by dead freaks. Stinking corpses and moving gore.

They traveled in herds, packs, whatever it was that people wanted to call them—murders, perhaps—and shuffled aimlessly across any land they could find. Eager for food, for sustenance, to fill the empty bellies that would never be full. Gorging themselves on creatures like you.

Officially ‘the other’. Officially ‘the enemy’. The sole survivor of a good group that was attacked some days ago because an idiot forgot to shoot one of the creatures in the head. And by sunrise, it was over. Screams echoed into the silence and you soon found yourself alone… running for your life with a duffle bag over your shoulder (slowing you down) and a gun in your hand (low on ammo). Trekking through thick woods in a heavily-infested Vermont town was not a good idea, but you had no choice. The house you were camping in was left behind, ravaged by bullets that you put into your friend’s heads, and every other spot nearby had been looted. You couldn’t move all of those bodies yourself. You couldn’t do much yourself. There was no army background attached to your name, no conspiracy theorist survival-obsessed gene in your body, and not much training in fighting either. All you could do was run. Run and run and run until you were miles away and your lungs started to burn. Not the most useful skill considering most people could run, but if you were quick enough to speed past the shuffling bastards, you were quick enough to make it to safety.

—

Safety…what a joke. A shit joke. A joke that was, quite honestly, the worst joke to ever exist. There was no safety. No place, nowhere. You’d been walking for a few hours, hearing nothing but the forest’s silence, and stumbling over leaves and branches. They ravaged the animals, took them into their mouths like they were people, and ate until there was nothing left. Not even a squirrel, or a fox, and the birds had grown weary of the vast number of hunters (both dead and undead) that found themselves in the woods looking for food. So no birds either. And no houses. And you were pretty sure, as you paused to catch your breath, that you were doomed.

Only a few bullets left and your aim was never perfect. One knife tucked into your waistband but it was getting uncomfortable, digging into your skin, and caked in blood. Creature blood. Everything smelled horrible. Like burning flesh or dirty meat, raw and soiled. You probably didn’t smell too good either. It wasn’t like the world still worked without the people; only a few places had running water and you couldn’t trust the creeks and rivers. The undead enjoyed walking through shallow water, knowing somehow that there’d probably be prey nearby.

But you hadn’t seen anything in a while. A long while. A suspiciously long while...

Everything was green and brown around you, whisked by wind and soil, and you stood out like blood against snow. The last thing you saw was yesterday. Ever since? Not a single flash of undead flesh.

You swallowed, throat embarrassingly dry, and tapped your fingers against your thigh.

It wasn’t good when everything was still. You were vulnerable, out in the open, and without a good few rounds of bullets to spare. Every muscle and organ in your body screamed for mercy, crying with the effort it took to keep surviving even when you didn’t want to.

You thought about it a few times; gave the gun in your hand a long look on several occasions, but ultimately decided that ‘opting out’ was only a last resort. Somehow, even amidst the chaos and hatred and swill of humanity’s nature, you managed to hold hope. And often wondered where it would get you. How it would get you. While you were sleeping? While you were already wounded? Fighting off the hands of a loved one? The twist of hope’s rope… would you feel it closing in around your neck? A literal metaphor for the eventual death you’d experience?

Thinking about it gave you a headache.

For where was the point in wondering?

You had no one else. Whatever form of death awaited, it would end up being your fault. Probably because you couldn’t run fast enough. Probably because-

Because-

Wait.

Somewhere behind you, on the right, was a low sound. A hum. The smooth whoosh of something quick. The parting of wind… the low growl of…

“Fuck.”

You shot off in that direction, bag smacking against your shoulder blades, and instantly felt the exhaustion pull at your body again. It lingered like a plague, like the undead disease, and you yearned to fall to your knees - to give in - but it wasn’t the time for that. You had to at least try. You had to at least make it over the hill. Right over the hill. So close but so far. You leaned forward, threw yourself at the ground, and grasped onto gnarled tree roots. The Earth smelled wet with decay, sweet with promise - you huffed against dry leaves. They crunched and scratched at your fingers, eventually crinkling into nothing when your arms worked to drag you up. You probably looked a little mad, scrambling up a steep hill to reach something that probably won’t save you, but there was no other option. The hum grew louder, the quiet was broken, and you only had a few moments to get this right.

“Help!” Your lungs caved around your scream, but the forest swallowed it instantly. Greedy trees with their greedy barks, wanting to keep you hidden from salvation. The hum grew louder. Your fingers grew clammy, sweating and slipping against rough wood.

You’d be bruised to high heaven later, and probably exhausted, but the hum and the growl of an engine meant a road and a road meant civilization and goddammit you just needed to get over the stupid fucking hill.

There was a loud ringing in your ears, nearly deafening, and making your voice sound fuzzy.

“Help! Help!”

Was that you? Were you the one screaming like that? Why couldn’t you be quiet? Those things could have been lurking… wandering nearby… coming up behind you, eager to grasp at your ankles and drag you back down to Hell.

A glance back over your shoulder, aching from the duffle bag, found nothing but blurred terrain and darkened leaves–a symptom of the setting sun. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. If the light went out, you’d be screwed. You couldn’t use the last of your matches and the world went black when evening struck. So there really was no choice. As the growl turned into a roar… there was no choice. Just a little higher- a little more. Your arms pushed, biceps straining against the cotton of your shirt, and your pants threatened to get caught on wayward sticks and tear into rags. The boots on your feet pressed hard against loose rocks, kicking them out of place, and gained just enough ground to push you up - over the ridge. The final stretch. Your chest pushed to the hard dirt and forced a grunt of effort from your tired body; the sound echoed through the woods, through the ground, and through the air that sat above the concrete road in front of you. Hard and vast, grey and long… you looked at it as though it were the holiest of grails, lying just beside it with your arms outstretched, your fingers still pulling at dirtied grass. Soil covered your skin, masked your features, caked beneath your fingernails, and when the roar of the speeding vehicle grew so close you had to close your eyes and wince, you knew raising a hand for help would not be enough. In the shade of the forest’s edge, half draped over the peak of the hill, you were inhuman to other survivors. Your dry mouth opened, your throat croaked, and your legs moved to push you up–closer–just short of the wind that caressed your hair when the car, the truck, ran past you with no second glance. You looked after it, watched it pass, and felt the burn in your heart grow into its own inferno. It licked at your insides, at your desperation, and had you hauling the duffle bag off of your shoulder and out onto the road. It rolled, a shuffling sound, and you followed after it with deep growls of effort and dwindling strength.

“Please,” you wheezed, panting for breath as soon as you staggered up to your feet.

In the distance, the car turned into a disappearing black spec. It drove and drove, out of sight, and you stood there, putting your arms in the air to wave it down and bring it back. To beckon it back. To beg and plead.

“Please please no-,” your voice was soft, weakened by days of rugged survival, “no…” rough and lost to the wind, it dissipated into nothing and you were forced to swallow again.

The thick smell of car exhaust settled against the steaming road. You watched the horizon, tracking the space in the atmosphere where the gold traced into a deep blue, and felt your bones quake beneath your skin. Their final cry. The last hurrah as you watched your future, the tatters of it, drive away from you.

Too late.

You were too late.

And you’d die there, on that road, and they may never come back and find you again in the morning. And your corpse would be chewed upon by undead bastards who would never give you a proper burial. And you’d be just another stupid human that found themselves trampled beneath the stinking feet of the walking dead.

Tears teased your eyes, burning the dry lands of your irises, and you felt the heart in your chest lurch against its cage.

Too late.

You were too late.

You had a duffle bag, a handgun somewhere off to the side, and the clothing on your back. One lasting water bottle, the knife you felt poking your side, and small bags of food that wouldn’t last you long at all. The tent, too, was destroyed by animals the night before. The most you could go was perhaps one more day, but your feet were aching so terribly that each step was a journey within itself. And you couldn’t push yourself to go further. There was no further. There was nothing in the woods and there was nothing beyond the road and you were running on fumes that no longer existed.

But you couldn’t just lie there and take it. You were about to reach over, bending at the waist, to grab your bag. To pull it up over your shoulder and trek on, even though it was pointless. But something stopped you.

Something–a sound–made you freeze.

It was faint. It didn’t sound like the undead, with their discordant groans and disgusting squelches, no… it was far. Getting closer. Closer. The hum and the growl. The purr of a motor. The hiss of pavement.

Your head snapped up, eyes bulging wide as you looked over the horizon to see…. Yes. Yes! Yes, it’s them! The car! A grin pulled at your lips. Halle-fucking-lujah! You felt the anxiety ebb, slowly falling away from your body, as they got closer. The black spec turned into a black blob, then a figure that took shape, and finally you could make out a Vermont license plate and the dirt that stuck to big wheels. Up close, it was a sleek thing, tall and well-built. Midnight black and aside from the splatter on the rubbered wheels, it was polished and clean. The dark paint reflected the bright world around you, turning it into weird warped versions of a faux-paradise. You swallowed at the feel of warmth against your legs, the exhaust from the truck flooding over the smallest sliver of skin around your ankles. Suddenly fearing a changed mind and bad intentions, you stumbled back until your heels pushed against your bag.

Tinted windows stared down at you, menacing and opaque. Not a thing to see behind them, even if you squinted. Nothing moved, nothing jumped, and you watched with bated breath for a window to roll down - until finally, it did.

The driver’s side. It went whirr-ing down, sliding for the shortest period of time in the world until only a shadow met you - and then a flicker of movement. And then-

“Oh my god! Jesus! Okay okay!” You flinched, not even hesitating to raise your hands above your head. You spread your fingers out, desperate to prove your innocence to the stranger in the car. And the gun they were holding, pointing at you, through the gap.

“Were you bit?” A rough voice, muted and deep, broke the atmosphere.

You shook your head.

“Words. Use them.”

“No,” you licked your lips, instantly deciding to turn around in a slow circle. “Not bitten. Not scratched.” You tried to ignore the way your hands shook, even as you shifted all the way back to face the gun’s muzzle.

“Ask where…” a voice, soft and feminine, came from somewhere beyond the driver’s seat. It was saying something, telling something, but faded into a whisper so quiet you couldn’t hear a thing. Your eyes shifted to the dark backseat windows, trying to see something- anything- and found no surprise in the lack of life.

“Any weapons?” The driver seemed to ignore the other person, and instead held the gun steady. You watched it with weary eyes.

“Yes.” And before they could ask, you tugged the knife out of your belt and the gun out of your pants pocket. They were held up in the air, another white flag, and you twitched the hand that held the firearm. “At least three bullets left, but that’s it.”

“And the others?”

You blinked. “Others? What oth-”

“Where is the rest of your ammunition? In the skull of a human or scum?” The stranger spat, and you detected the hints of an accent.

Scum… you’d never heard them referred to as that before. Your last group called them walkers, and some others claimed flesh-eaters. You were tempted to use ‘zombies’, but it felt rather silly. The world took that term too lightly, and the undead were nothing if not a very serious problem. But scum? Like they were beneath humanity and not its current destroyer? You’d ask about it later, you decided, if they deemed you well enough to take in.

“Both,” you breathed honestly, dropping your weapons to your sides with a heavy sigh. “They um- weren’t quite there yet. Got ambushed overnight.”

The gun still didn’t move.

“They don’t ambush. What really happened?”

Hm. They weren’t wrong. Animated corpses didn’t ‘ambush’, but when a herd of them went lurking about, it certainly felt that way. You didn’t think logistics were entirely necessary, but you understood the need for specifics. Trust among men was eviscerated in the face of danger, especially against those once living. You’d seen paranoia before, in others. Humans simply didn’t take each other in anymore… not without some level of severe mistrust. The second thought after seeing the truck drive off was that you probably wouldn’t be accepted anyway - you’d killed without technical reason. Could have just left. Run away.

But you didn’t.

You didn’t want to see them turn into those… creatures.

So what else was there to say? You stared at the gun, willing a click and the shot of a bullet, as you opened your mouth.

“A herd. A lot of them. Just… descended upon the place. Someone might’ve been walking around in the woods or something, and there was just not enough protection,” you paused, licking your lips, “...I was the last one alive. Had to shoot them and go.”

“How long since?”

“Few days, give or take,” you shrugged. The exhaustion only built as you stood there, trying not to sway and collapse in your spot. The truck was still running, hissing hot exhaust; it was the first genuinely warm thing you’d felt in so many days that you wanted to crawl underneath and take a nap. The world, turning to autumn, was growing chilly. There was no chance you could survive winter on your own.

“...Give or take,” you heard the driver scoff and laugh, bitter and mean. You frowned.

Then the window started going up, and you couldn’t help yourself. With a hard thunk, you pushed your shoulder hard against the car, and knocked on the thick glass with the butt of the knife. A look of utter desperation crossed your features, heavy and thick. Urgency, anxiety, fear forced any sense from your mind. There was no chance. There was no survival at all.

“No please- please I can’t be out here alone please- I’m smart and- and I can run fast and be an asset. Please,” you shook your head, searching with worried eyes, “please, please you can’t do this to me-”

Something dark spliced through the corner of your vision, dragging a shadow with it, and you just barely dodged the sudden swing of the truck’s backseat door. It bounced with force and you glanced back at the driver’s window once before stepping back and hastily swinging your bag over your shoulder. The knife and gun were slipped back into your clothing, concealed, and you held yourself strong as the black leathered interior bore itself to the world.

“-we can’t just leave them-”

“-on’t be stupid. They could be a liability-”

“-not stupid. We need more people-”

Voices, at least two, were rushed and tangled in an argument. You didn’t pay much attention to what you could hear, though the growing irritation was hard to ignore. It would be a hassle to be accepted, you knew, but you’d deal. There was no choice. The backseat door was open and there was a figure hustled back against the other window.

“The offer won’t last,” the stranger murmured, somehow louder than the two people in the front seats, and you decided not to take any chances in the world alone.

With a grunt, a push, and a final slam of the door, you found yourself in the truck. Your bag was pushed down by your feet, you tugged your knife out to rest it on your thigh, and you turned to say thank you- but was cut off by a cold blade at your throat. It grazed the soft dirty skin, less than a centimeter away from pushing, and you felt saliva pool in the back of your throat. Swallowing would have pressed you closer, so you fought the urge and only stared.

“Woah-”

“Try anything and you die. I don’t want a peep, not a shuffle. Do I make myself clear?”

The driver’s voice, clearer in such close quarters, was deep and mean. Accent, as you had clocked, from somewhere in the United Kingdom. It held a natural growl, a gruffness from years of smoking, perhaps, and you couldn’t help but sense the intimidation. It wasn’t fake confidence, you noticed, as you looked up and met the cool sharp grey gaze of a woman. Her hair, a deep blonde, was slicked back and short, ruffled slightly by the nape of her neck. A long neck… that led to strong looking shoulders. They were half covered by a jacket, but you could see the strength in the chords of her muscle. A force to be reckoned with. A leader, perhaps. She was pale, with a defined nose and lips twisted into a permanent sneer, and you probably would have thought she had some potential for post-apocalyptic modeling, if it weren’t for the scar that covered one half of her face. Slashed across the left eye, the wound was jagged and rough - it dragged from a point close to the exact middle of her forehead, right to the corner of her jaw. Thicker at parts and thinner at others, it split through a pale eyebrow and seemed to have permanently rendered her blind. The lid didn’t even move when one stormy eye shifted, and you suddenly felt extremely creeped out. Something about her was undeniably cold. Almost reckless, but her hand was so steady with control you knew not to make a move. She’d probably kill without hesitation, dump you back into the road, and drive off with the duffel. There was no choice but to answer, answer quickly, and do as told.

“Yes, clear.” Your head shifted half an inch up and half an inch down, still cautious of the blade.

But she didn’t move.

It was a battle of wills for just a moment, with your hands in your lap, empty and docile. You weren’t looking for a fight, or a staring contest, but the stranger didn’t let up until the figure to your right decided to sit up and speak.

“Ah they do not seem so bad. Look at them. Tired and scared, like sad city mouse,” another woman, one with a Russian accent and a voice a hint too loud, cooed.

Silence followed, persisted, for only a minute- and then the blade was tugged back so quickly you swear it nearly cut the air in two. The driver tsked as she twisted herself around, murmuring as she went.

“More like a rat.”

And then you were thrown to the side with a heavy wheeze as the truck lurched and began moving, working into a turn so you could go back the way they’d come.

You glared at the back of the headrest, not feeling above a little bit of irritation for some poor handling, but eventually grew bored. With some apprehension, your eyes flicked over to the person in the passenger seat. Their profile was strong, feminine, and you noted the unbelievably well-kept head of snowy hair. She looked clean, just like the driver, and a spark of hope welled up in your tired heart. Running water and food existed where they came from, wherever they were camped out, and if you played your cards right, you could finally indulge in some good hygiene. Unless the woman in the passenger seat was stingy with her water… god her skin was so clear, and she seemed to be wearing makeup. No one wore makeup anymore. Not the people in your old group and not the few stragglers you’d stumbled across. It simply wasn’t a necessary luxury anymore, but the woman sitting across from you, back straight and hands in her lap, seemed to think it was of the utmost importance. You wanted to speak, wanted to ask her name, but found yourself turning to your right - and catching the gaze of the person that opened the door for you.

“Anna,” your savior spoke, tilting her head to the left and regarding you with curious eyes. A pale hand, big and long-fingered, shot out and hovered above your lap. You glanced down at it, at the clean skin and the perfect fingernails, and knew that you hit the survivalist jackpot.

With a nod and a quick clasp of her hand, you whispered your name in reply. She nodded before leaning back against the door and crossing her arms; she seemed quite comfortable there, with a rather large gun resting across her lap. Her hair, blonde as well, fell in gentle waves to her shoulders. She saw with deep blue eyes - a contrast to the cold steel of the driver - and didn’t hesitate to flick them over your body in some sort of analytical search. Weapons, you figured, is what she was looking for. And the knife in your lap, which she eyed with some interest.

You wanted to say something, wanted to thank them, but it didn’t feel like enough. Nothing felt like enough those days. Asking something of someone was a risk every single time. And you’d asked—begged—them to take you in. You needed to pull your weight, no questions asked.

“Um- thank you for-”

“Shoot them.”

“What?!” You straightened up, eyes going wide as, in your peripherals, you saw Anna’s hand inch toward her gun. Through the rear-view mirror, you caught the way the driver’s brow twitched.

“You heard me. Shoot them.”

“Pha-”

“I said no talking,” the stranger growled, not even bothering to address the woman in the passenger seat. The white-haired woman looked frustrated, her red lips tugging into a frown, as she watched the driver double down on her focus. “Didn’t I say that?”

“But I-,” you wanted to plead your case, wanted to defend yourself, but were cut off.

“I am not going to shoot,” Anna said before you could speak. “Why do you expect her to be quiet hah, Phasma? We just saved her жопa. No need for fighting.”

You glanced at her, picking up on the Native tongue. Fresh off the boat, or perhaps visiting, with the way she said it so easily. Zhopa? Given the context, it wasn’t hard to tell what she meant. Yes, they had just saved your ass. And yes, you wanted to say thank you. Even if that Phasma person wasn’t too keen on a bit of gratitude.

“I hardly think thanking us for a kind deed is worthy of execution, no matter how much silence you require,” the fair-haired woman across from you said smoothly, throwing a slight glare to the woman on her right. And finally, she took that moment to turn around in the seat and make eye contact.

Something that proved to be far more difficult than you thought it would. Good lord, she was gorgeous. Pale skin, deep admiral blue eyes, and lips redder than blood. Not even a scratch on her face, not even a single spec of dirt - as if the apocalypse never happened and there weren’t dead people roaming every street in the world. In fact, she didn’t seem incredibly worried about the predicament the human species found itself in, and was looking at you with kind eyes, a furrowed brow, and a smile that she hoped was welcoming.

“My name is Larissa,” her hand, gloved in white fabric as soft as silk, reached out as an olive branch. You wanted to take it, wanted to feel something so lovely for the first time in a long time and create some sort of bond, but your hands were very dirty. A part of you guessed that Larissa hadn’t put them on earlier that day with the hope to return to camp holding soft fabric smudged with dirt and dried blood, so you only looked down at your palm and then back at hers.

“Oh uh- I don’t wanna get your gloves dirty-”

“Oh,” she glanced down, realizing that she was, in fact, wearing hand-coverings. “Later, then,” a warm smile shone back at you - and you were helpless, instantly offering her a nod in return.

“Finished?” The driver piped up, eyes cold as she stared at you in the rear-view.

As if on cue, Larissa turned back around in her seat, rolling her eyes as she went, and you could only fall quiet. Introductions were over, you were warming up to the easy heat in the car, and Phasma–if you dared address her by name in your head–had a good handle of the wheel. You were safe. For now. And with one last suspended look at the gun on Anna’s lap, you reached over for the seatbelt, tucked yourself in with a click, and leaned back in the seat. It was so suddenly comfortable, such a huge contrast to the shit you’d dealt with recently, that you couldn’t help but close your eyes and revel. Even for a moment. Even for a second.

—

“Get up,” a mean grunt, paired with a quick rush of piercingly cold air, tugged you from the depths of sleep.

Before you could even open your eyes properly, a shiver set itself into your bones. Eager to escape it, and the confines of the car, you jolted and scrambled for your seatbelt. Leaning against the open door, watching you grab your things, was the driver. Phasma? Weird name, but there was no time to dwell - especially not when she was looking at you like that. Eyes sharper than the knife on your lap, holding a polished chrome pistol in one hand, and waiting with some tension for you to hurry up. The duffel was pulled up onto your shoulder, the knife was tucked into your belt, and your hands scratched at the leather as you looked around wildly for your gun.

“We took it. You’ll get it back when you prove you’re not a complete imbecile,” she spat, peering down her nose at you. Disgust danced in her expression, sparking flames of unwanted insecurity, and you felt compelled to look away. Her nostrils were flared, her pink lips curled into something disdainful and mean, and you couldn’t help but watch the way her jaw shifted as she tensed, watching you watch her. The hatred seemed a bit out of place, too strong for normal trust issues, and you briefly wondered if perhaps she’d always been that way - even before the end of civilization. She was clearly a bitch, and not interested in showing you kindness any time soon, so you decided to forgo a response, ignored her glaring, and slipped out of the car without a word.

Before your feet were completely on the ground, and your bag was out of the way, the door slammed closed behind you, quick and sharp. The speed of it nearly clipped your shirt, and you whirled around to face the stranger’s irritation. She seemed to have lost interest in you and side-stepped your figure without another glance. One finger on the trigger, a shit-ton of audacity-filled swagger in her walk, and a back broad and strong. She looked like an outlaw, tall, mean, wearing grey with a belt around her strong hips and a leather jacket over her shoulders. You wanted to throw your gun at her and watch it hit the back of her head, but there was no way in Hell you’d be able to run away faster than she could catch you.

“Come,” you heard Anna speak, interrupting your train of thought as she trudged up to your left. You turned, seeing the way she cocked her head. “I’ll introduce you.” The gun swayed in her grasp as she turned, making little shuffling sounds in the grass.

The grass.

You went to go forward, but stopped. The grass. It was… terribly neat. Very well maintained. Not like apocalypse grass, which was flat and bloodied and mudded and dusted, but like rich person grass. Striking green grass, healthy, it bounced back behind you when you stepped on it. And the air… you took a deep breath and closed your eyes. It was fresh. Pure. Free of the smell of death and free of gunpowder and spraying blood. Just where on Earth were y-

oh.

Oh.

You looked up, finally, and found yourself in a courtyard. On all sides was a wall, sections of it made of brick, others of stone, and the rest of wrought iron fence, bolted hard into the ground; and across the way, piercing the sky, was a manor. Or what looked like a manor. No - what was definitely a manor. Dark, illuminated slightly by the deep blue of the atmosphere and the torches that littered the ground in neat paths, splitting off into cobblestone sections. You swallowed. It was gorgeous. Untouched. A world that seemed to run on and on while the rest of the globe went to shit.

How fucking lucky were you?

“Come! I must say twice?!” Anna called, giving you an exasperated beckon as she started disappearing behind the dark stone brick of the main entrance.

Sparing a quick glance behind you, you found a fortified gate and short stone walls - reinforced and built upon with barbed wire, wood, and sheets of metal. It must have opened up for the truck when you were still asleep, but was very much firmly shut and impenetrable once closed. You wanted to explore it more, wanted to study the mechanism and the layout and come to understand just how they managed to get the place so protected, but you didn’t want to leave Anna waiting. And a low rumble of thunder, far but rolling quick, told you that rain was eager to make her appearance - and you did not want to get caught in that.

After adjusting your bag and patting the knife in your belt for reassurance, you set off after the Russian stranger.

—

“So I am Anna, this you know already,” she pointed to herself, tapped her chest twice, then rolled her hand over to gesture to the clearing ahead.

It was beautiful, outlined against a dark wood. Rocky paths led to a big circle in the middle, and the ruins of stone benches and statues littered the camp. You could definitely see what it used to be - a beautiful place for the elite to sit, to bask, to enjoy the nice air and the wind. But the end of the world had gotten to it, not with the bearings of total destruction, but with the promise of change. A big spruce shelter had been built to the far left, reinforced with four beams and no walls - clearly just meant to keep the rain at bay while they worked outside. Beneath it, there were wooden benches and designated spots for farming equipment, guns, and even a water purifying system from the looks of it. If you assumed that sleeping quarters and showers existed in the castle, then they seemed to be in the best shape anyone could be in.

Even the people, who were busy going about their evening and tending to their duties, while you watched by Anna’s side and felt your excitement grow.

“Phasma was woman driving. Not so kind,” she tsked, giving you a knowing look, and you found yourself unable to ask about the strange name. You figured she wouldn’t have known the answer anyway. Then her hand moved, stealing your attention. “That is Jane,” she pointed to a pale woman sitting on one of the large stone benches.

Her back was turned, but you could see the severity of her expression in the reflection of a hand mirror. She was handsome, free of makeup, with jet-black hair. The strands fell from between her fingertips, spilling like water, as she threaded them into a braid around her head. Her movements were slow, methodic, and you watched, sort of hypnotized, as the long sleeves of her hooded dress stretched across her slim back. Tight along her arms and resting over the black pants covering her thighs, leading down to knee-high leather boots. Fit for an apocalypse, but somehow still chic. You watched her hands for a moment more, and turned slightly to her right when Anna gestured to the woman beside her.

“Miranda. Good girl, but way too skinskie,” she nodded to herself while crossing her arms.

The stranger in question–Miranda–was holding up an antique hand mirror for Jane to look into while doing her hair. They seemed to be the same height, though Miranda’s build was lankier and toned. The sleeves of her white top had to have been torn off, leaving freckled shoulders free to the air, and around one wrist was a black watch. It nearly matched the same leather as her belt, which held an attached holster and a sleeve for a walkie-talkie. Its antenna stood out against the baby blue of her uniform pants; tight by the hips but baggier toward the ankles, tucked into dark laced boots. Her hair was styled into a fair blonde bob, probably recently cut by the sight of such clean edges. It looked unbearably soft kissing the back of her neck.

“She was policewoman. Strong.” Anna commented, gazing at her from your spot by the castle wall.

You nodded absentmindedly, looking over the two strangers and the chess board that sat between them on the bench. Jane had black and Miranda white. The latter seemed to be focusing quite hard on the game, holding a pawn loosely in one hand, as the dark-haired beauty tsked and adjusted the hand mirror that slowly slipped to the side. You watched Miranda jump and offer what you assumed was a sheepish apology, as she tried to multitask. Her small smile was pink and soft, warm and welcoming. A friend, perhaps.

“Very…domestic,” came your soft murmur, sparked by the surprise of such a peaceful camp. In the past group, everyone was too busy trying to sleep, find food, or talk themselves through panic attacks. Maintaining sanity with comfort was not a priority.

“Da. Comfortable,” your companion nodded. “Jan is there, washing.” And you turned, yet again, to find a figure standing in front of a clothesline.

The combat boots made her seem tall, though they were a bit out of place—not really matching the long white sleeved shirt and full red skirt combo. Immaculate and clean, you noticed, though that was to be expected from a woman trying her hardest to get blood out of a white blouse. Her hands were covered by blue rubber gloves, with one clutched around a sponge and the other around the neck of a bottle of white wine vinegar. On the ground by her feet was a large pale jug of hydrogen peroxide and a bucket of what you assumed was water. And the blouse in front of her, held up by wooden clothespins, rippled from the breeze. It seemed to get colder and windier the longer the night went on, probably bringing the rain with it at some point. With any luck, it would clear up the light splotches of pink that covered most of the shirt’s chest up to the collar, but ‘Jan’ didn’t seem too patient and satisfied with that. She got back to her scrubbing a moment later, the strict waves of her blonde hair bumping gently against her neck.

“Jan is very chic. You go to her for fashion advice, no?” Anna tilted her head at you, dragging dark blue eyes over your face. The lawn lamps stabbed into the grass lit everything up with a sweet warm glow, bringing out the flames in her expression as she peered at you curiously. Very handsome, in her own sharp-featured sort of way. You couldn’t help the snort that bubbled up.

“Respectfully, I think fashion is the least of my concerns right now, Anna.”

“Hm. Maybe,” she hummed, shrugged, and gave you a once-over that set your heart racing before turning her attention back to the group.

“Brienne!” You jumped, flinching away as Anna’s loud voice carried into your ear. In the distance, a hulking figure shifted and unfolded, moving to look up at the call. They were sitting on a big pile of cut logs, holding a stone cylindrical sharpener in one hand and a… sword… in the other. Anna waved, talking to you gently as you both watched the figure’s expression change into one of suspicion. She was handsome. Pale, with the lightest blonde lashes and brows, and eyes that sparkled even from that distance. They squinted, drawing frown lines across her face, as she straightened up in her spot. You tried desperately not to stare at her figure, but it was impossible. The deep blue ribbed shirt clung to her torso like a second skin, wrapping tightly around strong biceps and broad shoulders. It was tucked into muddy green cargo pants, offsetting the brightness of the steel that covered the toes of her dark boots. You tilted your head and watched as she glanced between you and Anna before she finally decided to shoot the woman a firm nod. Anna’s lips quirked up into a smile. “She was once soldier. Good woman - she will protect you if you’re in trouble. Saved me many many times.” Her blonde curls swished as she nodded to herself.

That was good to know, you reasoned. Everyone seemed quite strong. Tall, too. And pale. The camp was gorgeous, the people seemed mundane enough, and the company was… well. Your eyes drifted over to Anna’s side profile, a silhouette of soft dips and curves, and you couldn’t hide the attraction you felt even if you tried.

“Larissa, you know too. She is leader, xорошо?” You didn’t really know what ‘harasho’ meant, but the light intonation of her voice had you saying ‘Yeah’ anyway.

Then an arm was winding itself around yours, jostling the bag on your shoulder and the gun slung around Anna’s body. It rested against her back, hitting her thighs, and you were suddenly powerless to the way she steered you further down the gravel path. Toward the right, there was a makeshift driveway; a patch of land ripped up from the grass and replaced with gravel, soil, and rocks. The black truck made an appearance again, probably having been driven up from around the back, and you watched with curious eyes as Phasma busied herself with a few bags and boxes from the trunk. Jesus, she was fit… tall and lethal. A small grunt left her lips when she hauled two boxes up into her arms, never faltering or pausing. Damn. You found yourself getting lost in the sight of her legs in those cargo pants, filling them out, until Anna clicked her tongue.

“Lucifer is strange, but ultimately harmless. Do not worry, they are not naked under the robe.”

Lucifer? Naked under the what?

You were going to take a quick glance around, to find whatever the hell Anna was talking about, but there was no need. Some feet in front of you, lounging on a red and gold velvet chase, was a lithe figure. They were almost glowing in the reflection of the walkway lamps, with the deep crimson of a flowing silk robe offsetting the smooth pale planes of soft skin. One elbow was propped up on the arm of the chair, and you traced the folds of flowing sleeves up to a slim forearm, wrist, and a delicate hand. Slender fingers were curled under the curve of a pale cheek, and you felt your heartbeat speed up at the sight of soft features and crystal eyes. And their hair, curled so perfectly into handsome shining ringlets of spun golden-web… goodness, they were…

“Luxurious,” you murmured, tilting your head as you watched the stranger chat with Larissa. She was standing over them, in front of the chase, and even at that height, you had a feeling that the one laying down was somehow a little bit taller. “Is Lucifer their real name?”

“Da,” Anna nodded, “little strange, no?”

“Yeah,” you gave her an odd look. “Strange as fuck.”

“Don’t get comfortable,” a voice growled from behind you, making you slip away from Anna’s hold and turn around. Phasma was walking past, holding a big bag under each arm. Her muscle was impressive, but dear god she was an asshole. You had to sort out that situation as quick as possible.

“Hey what’s your problem, man?” You spread your hands out at your sides before letting them slap against your thighs. “You picked me up, and while I’m grateful for that, I am, you didn’t have to-”

“Exactly,” she bit out as she whirled around and marched right back to you. Her breath was cool, washing lightly over your face, and she stood so close that your foreheads nearly touched. From that angle, looking up, you could reach out and trace the jagged line of her scar. It was quite attractive actually, even if her eyes narrowed as she watched you look at her. They were cold. Not an ounce of care.

“Don’t. Get. Comfortable.” Her lips twitched, carrying a silent threat.

“Okay,” Larissa’s voice, sing-songy and weary, cut into the conversation. “Why don’t we all take a moment to calm down, hm?” Her smile was blinding as she turned to you. One gloved hand hovered above Phasma’s right shoulder, but was instantly shrugged off the second it made contact. Her sneer didn’t fade even when she stepped back, eyes still flaming with anger. Larissa cleared her throat. “Y/n, you’re new here. Why don’t you and I have a little chat?”

Her expression, although kind, hid a sharpness that you didn’t think was wise to fuck around with. If Larissa was the leader, according to Anna, then it was her you had to charm. You didn’t really know why she was the top dog, especially because some of the other group members seemed more… abrasive… but clearly something about her was good enough to be the one in charge. And pissing her off, messing around with her people, was a one-way ticket to possibly turning into those fuckers lurking in the woods. So you didn’t really have a choice - and you didn’t really want one. No matter what, you’d stay. You’d be of some help. You’d stay on the soft grass, smelling the clean air. You’d become best friends with Larissa, the group would learn to like you, and you’d try not to combust when any of them looked your way.

Easier said than done though, of course. Especially when Larissa’s smile knocked down all of your reservations at once, in one big swing, and coaxed an obedient nod from your body.

“Okay. Yes. Sure.”

“Perfect,” Larissa’s grin, somehow, grew even wider.

“It’s getting late,” were Phasma’s parting words before she turned away and headed off toward two big wooden double doors.

You watched her strut without much thought, and found yourself on the other end of a staring Larissa. Her eyes were utterly striking in the evening light, and the outline of her face… a sight to be seen for a person as weary as you.

“So… is your group considered women only?” You murmured, peering up at her through your eyelashes.

Red lips twitched.

“Not intentionally. Though we have had the discussion before,” she contemplated her next words carefully, looking all over your face before resuming, “and we think it’s best if it’s just women. And Lucifer.”

“And Lucifer?” You still can’t get over that being their real name. Probably just picked out in a moment of edginess when they were a teen. Lucifer did sound cool, sort of bully-worthy. Like they were emo kid once upon a time.

“Lucifer is what many would refer to as non-binary. Not a man and not a woman. I hope that won’t be a problem?” Something flashed behind her eyes. Not a threat, but a warning. You couldn’t help but smile.

“Not at all. They and I are… one and the same,” you shrugged and adjusted the bag on your shoulder.

“How lucky I must be…,” someone purred from over your shoulder.

You tensed up, surprised by the closeness, and felt yourself grow a little weak at the tone. Like spiced honey, their voice was intense and smooth. You wanted to lap it up.

“Ah right on time for a proper introduction,” Larissa, ever the most efficient woman from what you could tell so far, found herself a golden opportunity. One hand shot out and gestured over to you, then to the person slinking around to your right. “Y/n this is Lucifer, one of the strongest members of our group. Lucifer and I make most of the big decisions, with the necessary input from everyone else. And Lucifer,” Larissa’s grin relaxed into a smile, “this is Y/n. Depending on our discussion of the rules, they may become a familiar face, so I suggest you play nice.”

You found that you couldn’t look to the side without short-circuiting. There was something.. something… about their aura that had you wanting to shy away and cower. It wasn’t the explosive intensity of Phasma or the consuming strangeness of Anna, or even the gentle but strong hand of Larissa… but instead a subtle sort of consumption. Utterly intriguing and fascinating - like they were put on the Earth to confuse humans. You didn’t even look at them and you could feel that. Didn’t even know them and you could feel that. Standing so close. So much body heat.

“It’s a pleasure,” they murmured, turning to you fully.

You swallowed, braced yourself, and looked up to your right.

Sweet holy Jesus. They were even more handsome up close. Just absolutely soft and glorious. And carrying the faint scent of… firewood? You cleared your throat.

“Um yeah- likewise. Hi.”

A flash of black, followed by measured footsteps in the grass, had all three of you shifting to see Jane walking past. Miranda was not too far behind, taking her time to cross the yard.

“Dinner is being prepared. Show face in the next 20 minutes or go to bed hungry.” Jane didn’t even spare you a glance before she disappeared behind the same doors Phasma had gone through.

“Thank you, Jane,” Larissa managed to call just before they closed behind her with a dull bang.

“Three moves…,” Miranda was muttering, holding the box for the chess set in one hand. “She beat me in three moves.”

“Oh it’s not hard. I would’ve beaten you in two,” another voice entered the fray, polite but amused. Jan, you recognized, as she sidled up between you and Larissa with a small smile on her deep red lips.

Miranda scoffed and turned to look at Anna, only to find that she was gone. One glance behind you revealed that she’d wandered over to Brienne, probably prompting her to go inside for dinner. You hummed, hiding the amusement of friendly banter. It had been so long since you felt even the smallest sense of normalcy. If they were so comfortable with each other, then it must have been a bit since they were all alone out in the world. You’d probably ask Larissa about that later - once everything was said and done.

“I would’ve beaten you in one,” Lucifer smirked as they pulled away and went walking inside. Had they been barefoot the entire time?

“That’s not even possible!” Miranda yelled, but the door was already shut. “...Is it?” She turned to Larissa, then to you, then back to Larissa.

“I don’t think so, Miranda,” Larissa smiled before looking at you. “Any chance you’re good at chess?”

Dear lord, having two sets of beautiful blue eyes on you was nerve-wracking, but you ignored the flush building up on your cheeks and nodded.

“Um yeah- it’s possible to beat someone in two moves. But it’s only black, I think.” You gave Miranda an apologetic smile and a shrug as she pouted.

“You will beat her next time Miranda,” Anna returned with Brienne in her wake. The sword she was sharpening earlier was still in her hands. “She cannot win forever.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Brienne cut in, her voice strong and deep. Her mouth was pulled into a light frown, and you noticed the scar that cut through the upper lip on the right. From the time before, you suspected. Otherwise she’d be turned. “She beat me and Phasma one after the other.”

Miranda sighed, tsking beneath her breath.

“Then there’s no hope…” Goodness, she looked like a sad puppy.

“Why not?” It slipped out of your mouth before you could grab it.

And of course, all of the attention then dragged itself over to you. Five sets of sea-blue eyes, all gorgeous in the glow of the evening lamps, traced lines over your tired body. In comparison to them, you looked a sight. Obviously having been picked up from the side of the road, unclean and awkward, somewhat detached from society. In your bag? Not enough clothing and not enough supplies. In your belt, peeking out from beneath your shirt? A knife, dirty and growing dull. And in your eyes? Lurking sadness and horror - the same which probably lived in the women that were observing you.

Larissa, thank goodness, finally broke the lull of silence.

“Brienne and Phasma were in the military,” she said gently.

“Oh. That makes sense.” And it did - Jane must have been an intellectual force if she beat people that used to be in the military before the world ended. Though that made you wonder… “What branch?” You turned to Brienne, not really surprised that you had to look up to meet her eyes. It seemed you’d been adopted into a camp of skyscrapers. Though the sharpness of her eyes had you swallowing. “I mean- if you don’t mind me asking.”

She seemed to consider it, sizing you up, before saying, rather shortly, “SAS. Then Delta Force.”

You couldn’t hide the way your eyes widened.

“Oh.”

“Oh, indeed,” Larissa hummed. “But I think now would be a good time to head in, wouldn’t you say?” She spared her smile for everyone, meeting the gaze of each woman, before finally looking at you and raising her eyebrow.

It wasn’t really up to you, so you just shrugged and waited for Anna to say ‘Da, da, xорошо’ before heading in. Brienne followed after her, then Miranda, who was studying the back of the chess box, and Larissa, who started taking off her gloves. Jan, meanwhile, stayed where she was and kept her eyes on you. They were curious and deep, never-ending, and lined with mascara and eyeliner. Mascara and eyeliner that… well it suited her, but goodness it was certainly intense. Dark and shadowed, but beautiful nevertheless. You couldn’t look away.

“Jan Stevens,” she breathed and gave you her hand, elegant and admittedly quite charming. Her nails were painted a deep cherry red. Utterly flawless.

At the sight of it, you weren’t entirely sure what to do. Your palms were still dirty, and sort of calloused, and you didn’t want to… ruin her. So you hesitated, stared at it, looked back up at her, and found her kind smile to be unwavering.

“Go on,” Jan finally whispered, giving her hand a pointed look, and you fell prey in an instant.

Quickly, you shot out to gently cup her hand into your own, and gave it a gentle shake. You felt strangely compelled to bring it up to your lips, but you weren’t sure that meeting a stranger in an apocalypse really called for such formalities. Even though you yearned to feel her skin beneath your mouth. It wasn’t proper; though you did think that Jan’s expression fell just a little bit. Like she was excited. Like she wanted you to kiss her hand.

“Y/n. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” she purred, looking you up and down, before turning toward the door. “Come quickly now. If we’re late, Jane will send us off to bed without dinner. And we wouldn’t want that.”

It probably would have been wise to consider and contemplate the fact that you were in a stranger’s camp, with a stranger’s group… but the saucy little wink that Jan threw over her shoulder sent a deep blush crawling up your cheeks. And just like that, without fail, you were one of the flesh-eaters… caught in the pretty paws of eight different beasts.

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Please let me know if my characterization is okay and if you'd like to see more. Be safe, darlings. - Rip x

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Far too many names to tag. Find it as you come.

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

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erinyaya · 5 months

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Dreaming of heaven

#it’s between my legs babe #jk….unless #been reading a lot of luc smut #wing thing is so hot #on a drawing streak #while I ignore actual work #lucifer morningstar #gwendoline christie #gwendolineuniverse #lucifer netflix #lucifer x reader #the sandman

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mouse-of-dimitrescu · 5 months

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𝟷𝟸 𝙳𝙰𝚈𝚂 𝙾𝙵 𝚂𝙼𝚄𝚃𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙴𝚂𝚂 🎄 #𝟻 𝙻𝚞𝚌𝚒𝚏𝚎𝚛 𝙼𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛 𝚇 𝙵𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Christmas Cries ( nsfw )

WARNINGS: Corruption, slight blasphemy, slight manipulation, hell's demons, mentions of heaven, d!ck, reader is a fallen angel, fingering, slight masturbation, fucking filthy, read at own risk

:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

Naturally, Lucifer despised Christmas. The season of perpetual hope — my ass! Once Halloween ended, Lucifer's seemingly calm yet passive agressive attitude heightened to it's worst with a blind temper. You were Lucifer's assistant, second to Mazikeen and you both felt extremely protective over your master. Lucifer's relationship with Mazikeen was strictly professional. Mazikeen followed orders and completed the tasks asked of them. You, on the other hand, were quite new to the realm of Hell. Lucifer took you in as an assistant because your situation reminded you of their own — the big fall, the lost hope and the burnt wings — dare you think that they felt sympathetic?

Whenever Lucifer called your name, your wings twitched and fluttered depending on the Morningstar's tone — always fluttering when Lucifer was angry but you didn't know why — yet. Lucifer stood on the balcony looking down at the fire of demons who yelled their name with a bitter passion. Understandable. You entered the hall to find the fire circle in the middle of the room burning, the flames were calmer than the ones outside. You looked over to Lucifer who had their back turned. Nevertheless, they sensed your presence and without turning around, they spoke.

" Good evening, angel." Lucifer's voice echoed melodically in your direction. They called you "angel", deemed appropriate because of your previous identity in heaven.

" Good evening, your majesty." You replied, your voice ever so feeble in comparison to theirs.

Lucifer turned to look at you, waving their hand and ushering the crying demons away. Everything fell silent after that. It wasn't a good silence but one that demanded a trembling breath and a thirst for a crowded room. They approached you clasping their hands in front of them, their thumbs turned downwards, forming a triangle. Their hips waved slightly as they walked, their wings moving behind them without force but kept stiff by inner tension.

" D-do you need anything, y-your majesty?" You asked, looking up at Lucifer. They met your eyes with a cold glare and let out a fustrated huff.

" Are there any imperative matters that need to be dealt with today?" They asked, ignoring your question.

You quickly shook your head. " No, your majesty. Today is quite relaxed." You gave Lucifer a small smile, hoping to cheer them up a bit — if that was at all possible. The Morningstar merely looked at you amused before walking past you. They approached a small table where they poured themself a small glass of an alcoholic beverage.

" Relaxed?" They raised their eyebrow and turned to look at you with their glass in their hand. " When has he'll ever been relaxed?"

You felt like punching yourself for your bed choice of words and you shook your head. " Nevermind, your majesty. I'm sorry, that's not what I meant—"

" Clearly not. You seem to be trembling." Lucifer dipped from their glass and put it down. " Do you remember heaven, angel?"

You were taken slightly off guard by their question. " I prefer not to, your majesty."

Lucifer nodded and looked to you. " Well tonight, I wish for you to grant me a small drop of heaven. Do you accept my request?"

You frowned. " Forgive me, your majesty. I don't know what you mean." Your wings instinctively caved in around your body, making the Lightbringer approach you with a small smirk.

" I could put you to good use this time of year. May I touch your wings, angel?" Lucifer asked, never breaking eye contact. Your eyes widened slightly at their request— it was almost forbidden to touch another angel's wings but you nodded slightly anyway — you were already in hell. You couldn't fall any further. Fuck it.

" Y-ye-yes your majesty." You looked down, slightly ashamed of yourself. All dignity seemed to be lost when you felt Lucifer's fingers okay with the horn of your wing, running their fingers in circles along the base of it, gently caressing the hardened skin. You let out a small whimper and forgot yourself — you clutched onto the Morningstar and they pulled their hand away from your wings. Your wings were trembling slightly — an indecent shudder.

Your eyes widened when you realised what you were trying to steady yourself by clutching onto Lucifer's shoulders. You quickly managed to pull away and your cheeks burned with embarrassment. " Forgive me, your majesty. I don't know what came over me." You looked down.

" Did my angel not enjoy it? Do you not want more? To feel more?" Lucifer asked in a teasingly soft manner, their fingertips tracing the seam line on your robe, travelling down your arm.

" I'm afraid, your majesty. For I do not know what I am feeling." You admitted, extremely ashamed that you lost your composure in front of your master.

" Did it feel good?" They asked, running their fingers back up your arm in a gentle motion.

You nodded. " Yes, your majesty."

Lucifer smiled down at you knowingly. " Can I show you what you've been missing out on? Or is my little angel too scared?"

You gulped and looked up at Lucifer, your wings twitching every now and then — understanding their own deprivation. " Please show me, your majesty."

At this, Lucifer gestured for you to follow them. You kept up with their fast pace. In an instant, you were right outside their extravagant chambers and they opened their door with a flick of their hand. You realised what was going to happen. You had only heard about pleasure but had not experienced it — yet. You were dying to know more. Your wings flutterred when you stepped inside their chamber and heard the door close.

You almost fell to the ground when you felt Lucifer's hands on your wings again. They sprawled out their fingers and massages your wings, making you eventually drop to your knees, your arms resting on the edge of the bed, using all your strength to keep your body up. You heard Lucifer chuckle and they began undoing the buttons of your robe from behind you.

" May I?" They asked, their voice sending shivers through your body. You nodded.

" Yes please." You whimpered out. You felt the robe slip off your body, the silk falling to the floor in a white puddle. You fekt the instinctive to wrap your wings around your bare body but before you could do this, Lucifer's hands were already on your waist, lifting you up from the ground.

Lucifer helped you stand up and they brought you onto their lap as they sat on the edge of the bed. " You're so pretty, angel." The Morningstar looked over your body, taking in the sight of you.

They played with your nipples, squeezing and tugging on them gently, making you shut your eyes and release a small but unidentifiable sound. Lucifer chuckled and caressed your waist. " I'm going to have so much fun with you, sweet thing." They nibbled at your neck, making you release small breathless moans. You felt a strange sensation at your core and a small amount of wetness seeped out of you, colliding with Lucifer's crimson-clothed thigh. Lucifer, of course, noticed this. You looked at them with a worried expression.

" I'm sorry, your majesty—" you started but Lucifer shut you up with a finger to your lips.

" It's perfectly normal, angel." They said calmly, reaching down to collect your arousal. They brought the white liquid up to your lips and tapped at them. " Open." Your devil ordered.

Your eyes widened but you obeyed and parted your lips. Lucifer's too digits entered your mouth and you sucked on them, tasting yourself. You saw Lucifer's eyes darken with lust and felt something strange underneath you. Something was poking gently at your thigh, making a small tent underneath Lucifer's robe which was now slightly wet in the spot. Your eyes casted a look of confusion and they chuckled, removing their fingers from your mouth.

" What's that?" You asked, swallowing the last of the liquid.

" Don't worry, angel. You're just making me hard. Get on your knees. Kneel for me."

You obeyed Lucifer without question, getting on your knees and looking at them for the next instruction. They looked down at you, removing their robe, taking it off entirely and throwing it next to yours on the floor. Lucifer's cock stood, hardened in front of you, a small amount of white liquid came out the tip. " Can you be a good angel and open your lips again? Like we practiced? Swallow for me?" They asked.

Almost immediately, you got into a proper kneeling position, Lucifer had spread their legs wider to give you better access. You hesitantly circled your tongue around the tip of their cock and made eye contact with the Morningstar as you licked up the precum. You heard Lucifer gasp, their wings spread out behind them.

" Oh..." They groaned particularly louder when you attached your lips to their cock, unknowingly teasing them. You eventually let go of the tip and licked a line up their cock, tracing the evident vein upon it, their length twitched, they needed you.

You attached your lips to Lucifer's cock again and began to edge it down your throat, coughing and faltering around it. Lucifer moaned at your actions and gripped tightly on your hair, forcing their way down your throat, making you choke more. " Angel...you're so tight." They groaned as you bobbed your head up and down their shaft, stopping at the tip and letting them fully enter your mouth again. You didn't know when to stop or if you would somtip but deep down — quite literally — you were secretly enjoying this. You felt your cunt twitch desperately.

While sucking on Lucifer's cock, you brought your hand down to your cunt, exploring it while trying to find some form of relief m. Lucifer noticed this if course and moaned as you picked up your pace with their cock. You found your clit and began stimulating it, circling it and moaning against them. The vibrations of your moans sent shock waves through Lucifer's body and they cried your name. The syllables slipping out their lips with an unwavering desperateness.

Lucifer was nearing their orgasm, their wings spasmed and a strangled moan escaped them as they urged you to move faster. You obeyed and slipped two fingers inside of yourself as well, letting out a moan. You soon felt a warm, thick liquid squirt down your throat, Lucifer's breathing was irregular and their cheeks had turned a dark shade of pink. Lucifer tugged at your hair, guiding you to slow down your pace. Their cock slipped from your puffy lips and they looked down at you, their wings twitching every few seconds from the aftershocks of pleasure. .

Your fingers were still moving in and out of your cunt. Lucifer looked down at you with a chuckle. " You did so well for me, angel." They leant down and grabbed you by the waist, lifting you up onto their lap. You removed your fingers from your cunt and whimpered slightly at the hollow feeling. Lucifer took your fingers and brought them to their mouth, tasting you. " You taste wonderful." They smiled and kissed your fingertips.

" Y-your majesty, I'm feeling a bit strange." Your voice was almost a whisper.

" Do you need to be filled by me? Is that the problem, angel?" Lucifer asked, raising an eyebrow. Lucifer brought their hand down to their cock and stroked it a few times, eventually making themselves hard again. Your eyes darkened at the sight and you nodded eagerly, making Lucifer smile.

In an instant, they flipped you so you were laying on your back on their bed. They spread your legs for you and saw your glistening cunt. " You're so wet for me. Can I take you, sweet thing?" Lucifer cooed.

" Yes please, your majesty." You said softly, looking up at them. Your wings twitched behind you, making your body move ever so slightly. Lucifer smiled down at you, caressing your chest and stomach before grabbing a hold of your hips. They took a hold of their cock and rubbed themselves through your folds, mixing their cum with your arousal. You moaned slightly and clutched onto the sheets, ready to take them. The moment they slipped into you, you almost screamed. They were so big, stretching your walls apart and making your clit throb with need.

" Angel, you're so warm and wet for me. You're so tight." They groaned out. They shut their eyes and rocked their hips slightly as they entered deeper into you. You let out a little moan and a series of incoherent mumbles of their title and countless unforgivable profanities. You tried to close your legs but Lucifer grabbed them, pulling them apart again.

" Need..." You moaned as Lucifer bottomed out, you felt them everywhere.

" Need what, angel?" They asked, somewhat amused and unable to take their eyes off you. " Do you need me to do this?" Their sickly sweet tone made you even wetter. Lucifer brought their hand down to your cunt and found your clit. The slightest bit of friction made you buck your hips and nod vigorously.

" Please...please..." You mewled.

Lucifer smirked at your begging and circled your clit, rubbing their thumb against it, making you moan louder. They thrusted into you harshly and you let out a loud scream. Your body rocked with them and Lucifer's wings waved behind their taill frame as they pounded into you.

Lucifer let all their anger out. It was as through they were impatiently and almost achingly confronting the harsh truth that their revenge plan for the Upstairs could seemingly never be accomplished. Their skin slapped against yours as their cock filled you up and exited you, turning you both into loud, moaning messes. Their movements on your clit became more rapid as Lucifer was also nearing their own high.

You grew slightly anxious when you felt your lower abdomen seem to heat up, your clit twitched beneath Lucifer's fingers and your mouth hung slightly agape as you let out the most vulgar sounds ever known to hell. Lucifer sensed your worry and rutted into you. " Angel, it's okay..." They breathed out. " It's normal...cum with me." Thrusting into you a few more times, hitting the spot inside of you that made you weak, your legs shook and your moans and cried got louder.

" Luci-oh!" You cried out, feeling the knot in your lower abdomen snap. The pleasure overwhelmed you. You looked up at Lucifer and saw their cheeks burning bright again. Your body trembled, your wings fluttered more than they had ever done. You felt Lucifer's cum spurt inside of you, coating your walls. They moaned out your name and muttered praises in your direction. They removed their hand from your cunt and leant down, leaning on the bed and stabilising themselves.

You were inches away from Lucifer's face and you looked up to them, coming down from your orgasm. They smiled down at you and kissed you gently, caressing your cheek and letting out a content sigh. " Thank you, angel. You did so well for me." Lucifer said softly. You smiled at their words and pulled them in for another kiss.

With their cock still inside of you, they lifted you up onto their lap again. Your bodies radiated heat off onto one another ajd you rested your head on Lucifer's shoulder. Their cock throbbed and twitched inside of you whenever you moved.

" Can we do that again one day?" You boldly asked.

" Of course we can, my angel. I enjoyed it. Are you alright? I didn't hurt you? Did I?" Lucifer asked, removing a strand of hair from your face.

You shook your head. " I'm okay. Are you okay?" You looked up at Lucifer, drawing absentminded lines over their chest.

They smiled down at you and kissed the top of your head. "Yes sweet thing. Let me pull out, okay?" Lucifer gently pulled out of you. The mix of their cum and your own spilled out of you and Lucifer chuckled, picking you up and taking you to the conjoined bathroom.

With unusual and unexpected care, Lucifer cleaned you up and you showered together. They draped you in one of their silky nightgowns, your wings slipped through the dedicated holes of the fabric, feeling comfortable with the smooth material. Lucifer smiled down at you and put on a black nightgown as well, picking you up and taking you to the bed where they lay you down, pulling you close under the covers and kissing your cheek.

" Call me Lucifer. Please." Lucifer suddenly said, picking up your hand and kissing it. You nodded and cuddled close to their chest.

" Okay... Lucifer." You smiled when you said their name and you looked up at them, giving them a soft kiss on their lips. Lucifer kissed you back and gently caressed your cheek with their thumb. You felt something touch your wings and you looked up to see that Lucifer's wing was gently coming into contact with your own. You smiled again and wrapped your wing around Lucifer's body, they did the same to you and kissed the top of your head.

" Sleep well, my angel. I'll be here when you wake."

:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

I'm so sorry

@littledollll @sirclitoressa

#gwendoline christie #gwendolineuniverse #lucifer #sandman lucifer x female reader #lucifer x female reader #the wings im sorry omg i cannot get enough of the fucking wings #larissa weems

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morpheusbaby3 · 1 year

Text

Morpheus telling Lucienne about the problems he has been through:

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weemssapphic · 6 months

Text

heaven in your touch

Lucifer x fallen angel!reader

A last little Kinktober gift ❤️‍🔥 Happy Halloween! 👻

Words: ~2.9k

Content/warnings: light angst in the beginning, nsfw (smut - minors DNI) - The Wing Thing™️, thigh riding, face sitting

A/N: @dovesintherain said I should write a Lucifer fic so :) here ya go guys :) hope it's alright!!

“Your Majesty?”

Standing in the doorway to Lucifer’s chambers, your voice is barely above a whisper - and yet it echoes throughout the room, bouncing off the walls before fading into a tense silence. The lightbringer sits at the edge of the massive bed at the center of the room with their back to you - their wings twitch at the sound of your voice. After a long sigh, they turn their head to the side.

“Come in.”

You step fully into the room, closing the door softly behind you and taking quick, quiet steps towards the bed, the black marble floor cold and smooth beneath your bare feet. Coming to a stop directly in front of Lucifer, you bow your head - you can feel their eyes boring into you, can sense their cursory glance of your form, and it makes your entire body prickle like a live wire. Even seated they’re taller than you - you feel small and intimidated.

“Mazikeen has sent someone new,” they remark, and your cheeks begin to burn. You open your mouth, then close it again, unsure whether or not they are expecting you to speak.

“Well, little angel?”

Your gaze snaps up to meet Lucifer’s - cerulean eyes dance with amusement at the surprise written across your face. Swallowing hard, your words come out barely above a whisper. “H-how did you know?” Your voice wavers, catching in your throat, and Lucifer chuckles.

They raise an eyebrow and tilt their head, their gaze once again sweeping your body - you shiver in response. “Tell me, how did you fall? What did a meek little thing like you do to incur the wrath of God?” Their voice is low and measured, causing goosebumps to rise all over your skin.

Your eyes flutter shut as a heavy silence falls over the room. It’s clear that Lucifer requires an answer but you struggle to get the words out as your throat constricts and your stomach begins to churn. The silence rings out in the large room, almost deafening.

“Well?”

“I-” Tears prick at your eyes - your fall was recent, and you’re still struggling immensely coming to terms with it. “I took a lover.”

Hearing Lucifer let out a breath, you open your eyes to see them peering down at you through hooded eyes, pale pink lips curling into a devilish smirk.

“Did you now?”

You nod slowly, your entire body prickling with the heat of embarrassment as the lightbringer’s gaze rakes up your form, much slower than the last time - they linger at your clothed pelvis, the swell of your breasts, your lips, your flushed cheeks. “Are you embarrassed, little angel?”

You nod again - your heart is beginning to pound harder and harder the longer you’re standing under Lucifer’s scrutinizing gaze. You can feel its pump in your throat, can hear the blood rushing through your body like a whirring in your ears.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed with me,” they coo, their voice gentle and teasing. “I understand, after all.” Their wings flex behind them, catching your eye - it mesmerizes you and your eyes travel over the long, black tendons, the leathery expanse of flesh, the razor sharp talons. When your gaze lands back on Lucifer’s face, you notice them watching you, their expression unreadable.

“I-I’m sorry, your Majesty. I shouldn’t…” They tilt their head and you pause for a moment as the air threatens to leave your lungs. “I was sent to help you dress. I shouldn’t burden you with my sins.”

Lucifer smirks, a mischievous glint in their eyes. They stand, towering over you at their full height. It should scare you - they are the Devil, after all; they should strike fear into your heart, their close proximity should intimidate you. But, instead, you feel a familiar tingling in the pit of your stomach, a slow, building ache between your thighs as you crane your neck back to meet Lucifer’s gaze - intense, burning, all-consuming. You feel a pull towards them, one that you are well-acquainted with - one that, in your previous life, had been your downfall, and you swallow hard.

“Well, then. Let’s not waste any more time,” they say airily, raising an eyebrow.

Swallowing thickly, your gaze drops to Lucifer’s waist, to the tie of their robe. Your fingertips graze the red silk - it’s softer than anything you’ve ever felt. You get to work, carefully undoing the tie and allowing the robe to fall open. Your eyelids flutter and your mouth goes dry as their bare flesh is slowly revealed to you - pale, smooth. Drinking them in, your eyes travel over the soft expanse of their stomach, up the valley between small, perfectly round breasts.

They shift slightly and the robe falls open even further, and you notice that they aren’t wearing anything at all underneath - your eyes dart to their venus mound, to the little patch of curls there, before you quickly look away, your cheeks scarlet.

Lucifer tuts. “What’s the matter?”

“N-nothing,” you stammer, raising your hands to pull the robe the rest of the way off Lucifer’s body - your hands tremble as they reach up to Lucifer’s shoulders, guiding the garment slowly down their arms until it flutters to a heap at their feet.

Lucifer regards you carefully, taking note of your blush and your trembling. “Do you desire me?” they husk, and for a moment your lungs cease to function, your heart standing still. You chance a glance at their face, surprised by the way their pupils have dilated and their cheeks have flushed. Their lips part ever so slightly and their tongue darts out to wet them - they notice you staring and smirk down at you.

You start to shake your head vigorously. “I-”

“Don’t even think of lying to me, little angel.”

“I… Yes, y-your Majesty.” “Yes, what?”

“Yes - I desire you.” You hold your breath, bracing for Lucifer’s wrath. Instead, the outer corners of their lips curl upwards and they take a step closer to you - they’re flush against you now, and you can feel their body heat radiating off of them in waves. Only the thin layer of your own clothing separates you from feeling their bare skin brush against yours.

“There’s no need to be ashamed of your desire. You will face no punishment from God in Hell.” A warm hand cups your cheek, urging you to meet their gaze. You do, and the unfettered lust you see written across Lucifer’s face draws a whimper from your throat as your pussy begins to throb.

Their hand slides from your cheek to your chin, long, slender fingers taking a firm hold of it. “Well, my little lamb - are you going to take what you desire?”

Your eyes widen - you’ve never indulged in your desires in the light of day, never given into your urges so openly - and with the Devil themselves, no less. Is it a trick? Will there be repercussions? Your fingers twitch at your side - Lucifer notices and grins wickedly.

“Go on,” they purr.

After another moment’s hesitation, you reach out and place your hands lightly on Lucifer’s waist. It’s no longer the robe that is the softest thing you’ve ever felt - it’s them, their skin: warm and smooth underneath your palms. Your hands burn where your skin meets their own, and you notice the way they lean subtly into your touch.

A heavy silence hangs over the room and time seems to stand still as you deliberate your next move. Hesitantly, you lean forward and place a tender kiss to the hollow of Lucifer’s throat - your lips tingle where they meet soft flesh, and as you linger you can feel the movement of their chest as they breathe.

Your lips trail down their sternum - softly, reverently - reaching the valley between their breasts before traveling to their right breast. Pausing, you look up through your lashes to see Lucifer watching you, eyes sparkling with amusement, lips quirked into a soft smile.

Feeling encouraged, you wrap your lips around their nipple and suck gently - Lucifer sucks in a sharp breath as your warm tongue flicks over the small bud, and you let out a contented moan. Your grip on their waist tightens and you pull them closer, eagerly swirling your tongue around their nipple, alternating between each of their supple breasts. Their hand rests on the back of your head, holding you in place - the way that their fingers twist themselves in the strands of your hair emboldens you, and you graze your teeth across the pert bud.

Lucifer hums, their fingers tightening in your hair, and you bite down - they hiss, yanking your head sharply back by the hair.

You raise your eyes to see Lucifer glaring down at you, their lip twitching - your heartbeat stutters in your chest and you feel your blood go cold as dread floods your system. You’ve taken it too far and now-

Lucifer’s lips crash into your own, demanding and… desperate? Their tongue invades your mouth and they groan - it’s as if they’re trying to consume you entirely. You can feel their hands come to rest on your waist, roughly spinning you around, pushing you back onto the bed. The mattress is soft beneath your back, but not as soft as Lucifer’s lips as they move against your own. Their tongue explores the cavern of your mouth, licking eagerly against yours and drawing soft noises of pleasure from your chest as you lose yourself in the dizzying sensation.

You feel a hand push between your bodies, and then Lucifer’s nimble fingers are undoing your robes and shoving them roughly off your shoulders. They press their body into your own - their skin burning hot where it meets yours, and you think you might faint as you feel them start to rub themselves against you, the intensity of their kiss growing by the minute.

They shift subtly on top of you so that your thigh is between theirs, and you gasp as you feel how wet they are. As they begin to rut against you in earnest, the kiss turns sloppy and you can feel their hot breath quicken against your mouth.

“Can you,” you mumble against their lips, your mind growing hazy as the growing ache between your thighs makes it hard to focus. “Can you come up, sit on my face?”

Lucifer stills in their movements and pulls back for a moment. You freeze, the blood rushing to your face as you realize what you’ve just requested of the Devil - wondering if, perhaps, you really have gone too far this time. But a moment later you see their pupils dilate, any trace of brilliant sapphire vanishing, their gaze lustful and overwhelming.

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you, little angel?” They smirk and all you can do is nod, stunned, as they crawl slowly up your body and position themselves over you, so that plush thighs encase your head. Their cunt glistens with arousal - you’ve never been more aroused in your life as they slowly lower themselves onto your face and you finally get a taste of them.

Running your tongue eagerly up their folds, you let out a low moan - warmth tingles in your belly as Lucifer echoes your moan, grinding down harder against your mouth. Your tongue flicks against their clit as you wrap your arms around their thighs to draw them as close as you can.

Above you, Lucifer’s own hands find their breasts, fondling the soft mounds of flesh, rolling their nipples between their fingers as they rut against you. Every roll of their hips brings a fresh wave of heat to your own core, and you squeeze your thighs together in an attempt to find relief as your tongue circles their clit and explores their folds.

As you take your time feasting on the lightbringer, you notice a subtle wave of cool air against your body. Looking up, you see that their wings, dark and formidable, have stretched out to their full - and very impressive - length, fluttering almost imperceptibly.

You remember how sensitive your wings used to be, before you lost them in the fall - charred to bits. You wonder if Lucifer’s wings, changed in their own fall, have lost sensation, and you cannot help but to slowly inch your hand from their thigh up their lower back, until your fingertips find the base of where their wings sprout from their spine.

After a moment’s hesitation, you brush a finger over the base of their wings with a featherlight touch - and are instantly rewarded with a sharp intake of breath as a visible shiver travels through Lucifer’s body. Their hips stutter and they grind themselves into your mouth, so hard you feel you might suffocate - but you don’t mind, because they feel so good and they taste so good and they - the Devil themselves - seem to be responding to your touch. It drives you mad.

You try again, this time applying a bit more pressure and adding a second finger as you allow your touch to travel outward along the bottom of their wing. Lucifer moans, their wings twitching and their breath catching in their throat. Their expression as they look down at you - a mixture of surprise, lust, and awe - makes your heart begin to pound.

“Do that again,” they demand, breathless.

You obey, tracing over the smooth, leathery membrane of their wings and feeling those wings ripple beneath your touch as Lucifer’s lips part and their eyelids flutter shut. You can feel them get even wetter and you lap eagerly at their pussy, gathering their essence on your tongue before gently teasing their clit, your fingers continuing their exploration of their wings.

Eventually, you’ve traced over as much of their wings as you can manage from your position, and you let out a little growl of frustration which vibrates against their cunt and causes them to jerk their hips against your mouth.

“What does my little angel want, hm?” Lucifer coos, though the breathiness of their voice betrays them as they arch their back into your touch. You reach up with both hands and flatten your palms against their wings as best you can, caressing the smooth leather. Lucifer keens. “T-tell me,” they breathe, taking most of their weight off your face so you can answer.

“I want to please you.” The words come out a jumbled rush and, even through the haze of their pleasure, Lucifer manages a smirk and a breathy chuckle.

“And how would you like to do that?”

“Your, um…” You feel your cheeks grow warm, and you trace little patterns along the base of their wings, as if to emphasize your point. “Your wings, your Majesty… could I…”

The lightbringer shifts off your face and settles next to you, waiting for you to scramble up and sit behind them. Once you do they flex their wings, stretching them out - they’re breathtaking. You can see the muscles in their upper back and shoulders ripple and flex - their body is sculpted to perfection, the most divine of beings.

You’re almost too awestruck to move, but then you realize that they’re waiting for you and you reach out to touch the pad of your finger to the upper ridge of their wing and move outward in gentle strokes. A visible shiver shoots up Lucifer’s spine, and you repeat the action on the other side. Lucifer’s form shifts before you and a drawn-out moan falls from their lips - they throw their head back, blonde curls catching the light, and you realize from the trembling of their shoulders and the subtle movement of their pelvis that they’re touching themselves.

The muscles in their shoulders contract as you continue to stroke their wings, taking your time to explore every ridge, every joint. You experiment with speed and pressure, seeing what kinds of reactions you can draw from the lightbringer. On a whim, you drag your fingernails across the membrane of their wings, tantalizingly slowly - they arch their back and roll their hips, a breathy groan clawing its way out of their throat.

You switch from your nails to your knuckles, brushing them along the dark expanse before focusing on the upper ridge. It feels smooth and soft against your skin, and Lucifer writhes with pleasure, the noises spilling from their lips becoming louder and more obscene as you reach all the way to the tip of one wing.

What makes them finally come undone is the way you throw caution to the wind and flatten your tongue against their wing, tracing a path along the ridges and tendons. Their entire body jerks, wings trembling beneath your lips as they cum. A strangled cry - soft, breathy, utterly broken - pierces the air. It’s the most sinful sound you’ve ever heard, and you nearly cum as well just from the sound alone.

Lucifer’s body twitches with the aftershocks and they slump forward, catching themselves with their hands. A long period of silence stretches between you - your own heat is still throbbing, begging for release, but the longer Lucifer goes without moving, the more unsure of yourself you become.

Until they turn around. Their cheeks are flushed and their chest is heaving, and their eyes roam over your body with a hunger that steals the air from your lungs. On instinct, you scramble back a bit as your heart begins to pound against your ribcage. Lucifer smirks, their pupils dilating.

“Well, little angel,” they husk, crawling over to you until they’re towering over you, looking like a predator about to catch their prey. “It’s only fair that I return the favor, isn’t it?”

Taglist: @alexusonfire @brienneswife @pro-weems-places @bigolgay @kimiinou @imprincipalweemspet @h-doodles @bychrissi @katie-bennet @giogwensversion @gela123 @friskyfisher @justcallmelittleone @michi2504 @scream-queenlover @a-queen-and-her-throne @sequoirius @anne-lister @winterfireblond @imgayforwoman69 @Ssappling2004 @fictionalized-lesbian @i-like-reading @aemilia19 @milfsloverblog @missdowling @billiedeansbitch @The_Demon_of_your_Dream @agathaandgwenslesbian @http-sam @Cute-catx @saltrage @renravens @opheliauniverse @zillahofviolets-bayolet @scarlettssub @catechristiestuff @niceminipotato @barbarasstar @women-are-so-ethereal @thevillagegay @willowshadenox @lilfartbox1 @larissaoftarthweems @dovesintherain @fallenbutch @lunala-rose23 @ahauandthesun

#lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar (the sandman) x reader #lucifer morningstar (the sandman)

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