Their Favorite Pet Names

Their favorite pet names ♡

demon brothers x gender neutral reader

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ෆ Lucifer ━ Darling, Dear

Make no mistakes, Lucifer always prefers hearing his own name, specifically when it's being spilled out of your mouth as a lingering whine, demanding him to avert his attention to you. However, if he already has to settle for a pet name of some sort, he would prefer a good old fashioned term you would use to title the first line of a letter with, if the two of you were star crossed lovers mailing each other through different worlds. (Because he's just dramatic like that, but the truth is, it makes him blush.)

"When you intimated you need my assistance, I didn't reckon a bake sale is what you had in mind. May I remind you of the outright failure we experienced when we attempted to bake hellfire mushroom rolled cigar cookies?" Lucifer shakes his head, sensing defeat from merely facing the ingredients laid across the table. "Well, I haven't invited you here to cook, don't worry. Your role is to supply entertainment and mental support, and also to stand guard in case Beel tries to infiltrate our mission." You reassure him with a grin, carefully tying an apron around his waist. "Now, be a dear and fetch me the recipe?"

Lucifer is quite stunned at your confidence to speak to him at this level, regardless, he cannot deny your dauntless attitude tugging at the strings of his heart.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ෆ Mammon ━ Babe

No explanation needed, it just makes sense. Use a confident, possessive tone when you say it and watch him quack and become as red as the roulette in the casino. In return, he will probably use a bunch of embarrassingly cringy pet names on you.

"Whaddaya mean you don't want me callin' ya my sweet snuggly crow princess in public?" Mammon frowns, huffing at the rejection of his advantages. "I think crows are cute, and so are you. Cute! My sweet snuggly c-" His sentence is cut short by your lips crushing against his own, leaving him with a loss of words and rosy cheeks. "Come on babe, stop being silly."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ෆ Leviathan ━ Weapon of (m)ass destruction

He doesn't have a preference, simply because anything you'd choose to call him feels like someone tore a rift in time and space and crowned him king of the three worlds. With that said, he particularly likes silly ones, or just anything normies wouldn't regularly use. It makes him feel special because you definitely haven't used that on anyone else.

"Hey, let me use your phone for a second. I'm gonna call myself since I can't find my cell." You mindlessly announce, grabbing his mobile device after a couple long minutes of patting the bed in hopes of finding your own. "Huh? w-w-wait, let me do that!" Leviathan hurries to try and eject the device out of your grip, but to no avail. Your fingers had already clicked their way through the different screens, leading you to his contact list. "Hm? You saved me as 'Only second to Ruri-chan in beauty'? Aww, Levi!" You coo, messing his hair. "Now I feel bad I only saved your contact as 'noob'."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ෆ Satan ━ Kitten

It is most likely a given (or a chewed up headcanon), but Satan is the embodiment of a cat and likes to be recognized for it; privately, of course. Rumor has it that if you call Satan by the following pet names of kitten, kitty or anything that resembles, it will awaken his inner feline and bring him to rub his cheeks against you, asking to be petted.

"Come here, kitty kitty." Satan looks up from his book at the melody of your voice, at first searching around to scope if a real cat is nearby. But with his sharp mind, he reads the situation almost immediately, cocking an eyebrow at your hopeful expression. "Huh? Are you referring to me?" You nod, holding out an arm as you gesture him to come closer. "Pspspspsps" Satan heaves a sigh, placing a bookmark inside one of the pages before he closes his novel shut and paces towards you. "Such a good kitty!" You praise, holding in your chuckle.

"Say one word to anyone about this, and you're dead meat, human. Understood?" Defeated, he tilts his head towards you and nuzzles against your extended palm. "Now... scratch behind my ear please?"

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ෆ Asmodeus ━ Prince/ss

No surprises with this one, Asmo is royalty and believes he should be addressed accordingly. He doesn't mind which version of the word is being used, as long as it comes with the acknowledgment that he's the most ethereal, majestic creature your eyes ever had the sanctified right to witness.

"No, no and no! None of these are on theme. I usually find good keeps in majolish, but this season their clothes are all off." Asmodeus falls into the velvet chair allocated at the store's fitting booths. You had accompanied him on a shopping trip prior to an event at RAD as he was in need of a new wardrobe for the occasion. "I kind of liked this outfit. I think it suits you!" You sheepishly smile, praying to be leaving the store before sundown. "Suits me is not enough! It has to be dazzling, breath taking, absolutely stunning!" He huffs, displeased at the selection of items at hand.

"I mean, it's the person who makes the clothes, not the opposite. It doesn't matter what you wear because everything looks so good on you, princess." The corners of Asmodeus' mouth stretches into a smile, but it differs from his usual smug, conceited one. It was a humble display of contentment at your compliment. "That's correct!"

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ෆ Beelzebub ━ Babycakes, Pudding, anything food related

Think about it, what is one of Beel's biggest pleasures in life? What does he yearn for so much, that he can't clear his mind from it to the point it is brought up in every conversation he's having? Food. So it's only natural that using food related nicknames will make him feel as important to you as food is to him.

Beel licks his lips as his eyes skim through the grocery list. You had brought him along with you to a human world supermarket, assuming you'll be able to keep him at bay, except... you forgot to take one variable into consideration.

"Cheese, cheese! Come try our cheese!" You were doing a good job holding him back from finishing a whole tub of blueberries, but the announcement called from afar by a samples vendor made his ears perk up. It took all of your magical energy to stop him from storming that poor salesperson like a hungry wolf, but you've managed. "I'm so sorry, y/n... you know it's hard for me to resist human world food, and for free too..." Beel was pouting at you, genuinely feeling guilty for scaring the unfortunate human. "I know you're trying your best... you were doing so well today, my little cinnamon roll."

"Mm, cinnamon rolls... can we go get some now? Please?"

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ෆ Belphegor ━ Baby, baby boy

With every cell in his body, Belphegor loves being babied. As the youngest brother, he's often spoiled by his siblings and gets away with a lot. He's allowed to slack off, be rude or partake in the usual pranks and leave nearly unscathed because he's just so cute. Naturally, his pick to be called by his lover will be along those same terms of endearment and he will absolutely melt whenever you use them to address him.

"Five more minutes, I promise we'll make it in time..." Belphegor mutters sleepily, sheltering you between his arms as he snuggles closer to you. You take a peek at the clock, five minutes had turned to fifteen, but your weary demon refuses to let go of the bed, or of you. Sighing, you accept your upcoming fate of being scolded by Lucifer for your tardiness and reach to caress Belphegor's warm cheek, earning a soft hum in return. "You're gonna get us both in trouble, baby boy."

tadashi w a lip ring. that's all.

when yamaguchi told you that he had a surprise for you, you didn’t expect this.

you expected something sweet — some chocolate, your favorite drink, or even one of his old karasuno hoodies that he likes to give you when it gets colder out.

but when tadashi shows up at your door tonight, you’re floored to say the least.

“no. way,” is all that comes out of your mouth. he looks at you with a look that screams ‘it was impulsive, please say you like it.’

“do you like it?” he steps into your apartment, toeing off his shoes before shrugging his jacket off his shoulders.

"let me see it again," you twirl around his figure, ogling at the silver ring in his lip. honestly, you'd never expect tadashi to do something like this, especially with an office job lined up right after he graduates in a couple months, but for some reason, you can't stop thinking about how good he looks — his hair frames his face and falls past his eyes. his lips, although delicate, make him look as if he's been kissed a thousand and one times. they're naturally pink, but the piercing enhances the rosy hue you love so much.

"it looks really good. like, really good."

and now, you're staring at his lips.

and he's leaning in as if it's second nature.

"woah, wait, shouldn't you hold off on the kissing?" you push him away gently and a groan bubbles in his chest.

"three weeks."

"what?"

"no kissing for three weeks."

"so we're both gonna suffer from this?"

"but only for three weeks! after that, you get a boyfriend with a cool lip ring and even cooler kisses!"

"i still can't believe you just… went out and did that. not very like you mr. needs-his-google-calendar-to-function.”

"i was getting bored of how i looked,” he twiddles with the sleeve of his sweater. “and the guys kept saying that i could never do anything wild, so i wanted to prove them wrong… i thought you'd like it too.”

"i do.” you nod, and he smiles. “it’s hot, i won't even lie.”

his ears burn red, and your thoughts trail to what his lip ring might feel like against your warm skin — how it would feel against the column of your neck where he kisses you every night.

he clears his throat and looks away, but you catch the way he scratches the back of his head (his nervous habit. it’s cute, and he’s been doing it since you started dating).

and maybe, he’s thinking about it, too — how the ring would feel against your lips, your jaw, your shoulders.

waiting three weeks will be a challenge, especially when tadashi needs your kisses like air, but it’ll all be worth it, he thinks, if it means that you’ll continue to admire his lips like you are right now.

Random thought #354 (13:45)

Bakugou has to know your location at all times.

He‘s got your location on his phone, his watch, the alarm system lets him know when you enter the house, it’s an obsession of his to know where you are.

There’s even a little tracker in the ring he gave you- with your consent of course, he’s not that much of an asshole- and he’s pleased when he sees it out and about with you while you run your errands or go out with friends.

He hides it under the guise of “need to make sure your ass ain’t cheating on me.”

But that’s not true. You know that’s not true.

A little possessive, maybe, but it’s not like that.

Bakugou has to know your location at all times because he knows how dangerous it is out there, how something could happen in an instant and he needs to be right there when you need him most. He’d stop battles, abandon his job, blow himself and others up in any chance to get to you if you needed him.

He knows the addresses of all your friends, family, every hospital in the area. He knows the vin of your car by heart, he knows your schedule, he’s so crazy about doing his best to keep you safe that it’s almost cute.

Nuzzling your head against his chest while he confirms your location on his phone, you give him a chuckle, making him hum in acknowledgment.

“Think you’re growing soft on me, Katsu,” you mumble, a loving thumb stroking over his collarbone.

He scoffs and offers you a scowl, “what are you talking about?”

“You just wanna keep me safe always, don’t you?”

“I don’t give a shit what you do, ain’t my job to keep you safe.”

It kind of is, but you let that die on your tongue and replace it with a kiss against his jawline, chuckling when he angles his head for more of your sweet affection.

“You falling in love with me or something?” You purr, laying your head back down against him to let his cheeks flush in peace.

He laughs out a bark, but you hear his heart-rate pick up a bit under your ear.

“Can’t stand your bitchass. Idiot.”

warnings : fem reader, slight smut (mdni), fingering (f receiving), teasing, cursing, making out, mentions of multiple orgasms (f receiving), established relationship

word count : 0.8k

Not unlike most in Kenma’s life, the way he kisses is lazy.

Soft, pliant lips part as they press against yours, tongue dragging across your lower lip, letting out a soft, content sigh at the taste of the remnants of lip balm. With spit slicking his lips, Kenma parts your mouth with his tongue, pressing down on your own, head rushing with exhilaration at the way you suddenly tighten your fingers near his waist. The fabric of his hoodie bunches underneath your hands, and with a grin pressed against your mouth–almost smug in nature–Kenma leans into your touch. 

“You good?” he lets out a chuckle from under his breath, the warmth of it mingling with your own. 

Kenma pulls away to get a better look at you, and a thick spread of something warm and sweet fills his chest when you let out a soft sound of protest. You’re no more than a hairs-width away; Kenma’s lashes brush against your temple as his eyes flutter shut, swollen lips parting when you gently rock your hips down onto the two fingers he has buried between your thighs. 

“Aha,” he lets out a breathless laugh when you clench around his fingers, pressing them knuckle-deep and wiggling them until they brush against the spot that has your body nearly folding around his, head dropping to rest against his shoulder. 

“‘M perfect,” you mumble against the crook of his neck–nearly a groan. Your lips move against his neck, and despite the lewd way his fingers pump in and out of your cunt, Kenma can’t help the blush that warms his cheeks at the almost-innocent feeling of your mouth grazing his pulse point. 

Kenma’s eyes open to get a better look at you, and he licks his lips at the sight of your thighs spreading further apart on his lap, rocking your hips down to feel the rough pads of his fingertips pressing inside you.

His throat goes dry, and Kenma’s cock throbs against your thigh when you let out an airy moan of his name.

“Mhm. Perfect for me and my dick,” he says when he’s finally able to compose a sentence, jaw slackening with awe at the feel of your slick dripping down his wrist. 

Curling his fingers towards him, Kenma carefully watches your reactions; his sweatpants are ruined from where pre-cum beads and dribbles from the slit of his cock, and the wet spot only grows as he lets you fuck yourself on his fingers, grinding and pulling them deeper inside your cunt. He begins to breathe a bit faster, harder. It’s all Kenma can do to watch you make a mess on his lap, moaning his name so prettily in his ear for him.

“So let me ride it. Wanna feel you,” you retort, pulling away from his neck to face him. 

Your request only further steals the air from Kenma’s lungs, and at the sight of your eyes heavy with need, it’s almost enough to make him fold.

Instead, Kenma merely smirks, enjoying the way your pussy tightens around his fingers when he drags them down your cunt. “What? This isn’t enough?” he teases you, voice dripping with something akin to arrogance. As if to punctuate his words, Kenma presses them deep inside you, tongue coming to press against his bottom lip when you immediately keen in pleasure. 

“Y-you know what I mean, Kenma. Let me fuck you,” you attempt to convince him, and the increasingly needy tone in your voice does nothing to aid Kenma’s restraint. He wanted to enjoy this for a bit longer, but if you keep looking at him like that, grinding on his fingers, he knows that resolve to tease you will crack. 

Gathering himself, Kenma leans back against the couch, spreading his legs a bit wider and offering you a lazy, lopsided grin. “Hm,” he pretends to think on it, smirk only broadening as he continues slowly fucking his fingers into you. “Nah. Wanna watch you ride my fingers a bit longer.”

“Fuck you,” you immediately shoot him a glare, but the complete lack of bitterness in your tone, paired with how your slick steadily coats his fingers, only has his dick stiffening even more.

Kenma’s eyes dart to your lips, and a rough sound falls from his mouth when he imagines the sweet sounds you’ll let out when he fucks you. A strand of hair falls in his eye, but neither of you bothers to move it aside, too enamored with the moment.

“That’s not very nice to say to the person who’s about to make you cum. You should just let me kiss you instead. Wanna feel that pretty mouth of yours,” Kenma says. He leans closer, a hand moving to the nape of your neck to pull you to him. You oblige easily, lips parting to press your mouth to his in an eager, messy kiss. 

Kenma’s mind immediately melts; a rush thrills through his body, pressing rapidly against his heart until it swells with affection for you. He squeezes you closer, succumbing to the wet, open-mouthed kiss, moving his lips lazily against yours.

And, while you’ll surely complain about him going so slow, Kenma is sure you won’t be complaining about the multiple times he makes you cum, no matter how lethargic his actions. 

He likes to drag out your pleasure, after all. 

haikyuu mlist.

For Forever With You - Pt 1

***It's been a looooong time since I've written and I deeply apologize! However I'm back with our favourite wizard man! A long time ago, I wrote a little fic called "A Magical Bond" and now, after at least a year and a half, we go back to that MC and Solomon and discover their story. This is going to be a series with a new part for each era of their life that I cover. Thanks @jxcyt for the inspiration! I hope you enjoy 😊 -B ***

Summary: Two humans — one plain and dreadfully average, the other an immortal who thought he had seen an experienced it all. In any other world, they would go most of their lives without ever meeting and be destined for another, but not in this one.

1920s

Trumpets and saxophones swelled around Solomon as he sipped on a martini, observing the dazzling lights and sparkling dresses at the dive bar he had found on his way home.

Despite all the noise and glamour, he couldn't help but smile.

This was what he loved about humanity. The vibrancy. The life.

The last few decades had been so drab in comparison with all the dark colours and constricting societal rules but now ...

He laughed as a woman squealed as her partner twirled her before extending her out away from him. The two giggled before continuing to do the Charleston around each other with their arms waving about.

It looked fun. Solomon made a mental note to try and learn it before it went out of style.

"Pardon me, sir. Did you want a refill on your drink?"

He glanced down at the now-empty glass, before looking up. He felt his eyes widen as he took in your face. "It's you!" He couldn't help but shout in surprise, taking a second to take in your appearance — the serving uniform you were wearing looked exquisite on you. It was quite different from the modest, neck-high garbs that he had last seen you in, though he supposed that was due in part to the change in times. He glanced around from you to the rambunctious crowd around the two of you. "What are you doing in a place like this? Last I checked, it was 1910 and you were a cute, quiet librarian making a modest living."

You cracked a smile, pouring his drink with the same delicate, professional touch that he remembered you carrying even as you shelved books. "The war, for starters. Library couldn't afford to stay open."

Solomon huffed, taking a hearty gulp of his drink. "Shame. I quite like your little collection of books. It was a quiet haven. I'll miss it."

"I'm aware," you responded with a teasing lilt in your voice that caught the wizard's attention. "You swung by nearly every day. To be honest, I'm as surprised to see you here as you are to see me."

Solomon paused taking a moment to observe the situation. Both of you, not quiet strangers but not quiet friends, find yourselves at the same woefully tasteless speakeasy and happen to find each other. The smile on your face told him that's a good thing. And maybe it was the alcohol, but while he usually doesn't allow himself to get too close to mortals, there was something about the sparkle in your eyes that was drawing him in like a moth to the flame.

It had always been that way with you. He still vividly remembered the first time he ran into your quaint library to escape the rain, and there you were, warm and light, offering him a towel to dry off with and tea. He was hardly one to say no to such welcoming company. When he returned a second time, he had told you it was for the books, and that was true in part — you had quite the collection of vintage scripts he hadn't had the opportunity to read in some time — but he wanted to observe the compassionate creature that had taken him in. It wasn't long before coming to the library, perusing your stock, and people-watching became a hobby of his.

There was a strange ache in his chest when he went to visit you again one day, only to find the door boarded up and windows darkened.

He smiled and leaned in closer to you, "Perhaps I'm more than just the bookworm you thought I was. You seem well aware that a person can have several facets to themselves," he tilted his head, eyes flickering towards the door before returning to yours once more. "Would you care to learn mine?"

Your eyes widened, and he couldn't help but feel his smile grow as an adorably flustered look fretted across your expression. "I- I um-" you chuckled nervously, "You're more sly than I thought. I didn't take you for a cake-eater, mr ...." You blinked in sudden confusion. "Oh. All those visits to the library and I never caught your name."

"Solomon," he explained with a smirk. "And I meant no harm with my offer. Just a walk together on this lovely night and a bit of good conversation. It's been a while. I'm sure there's a story of how you ended up here."

You hummed, fiddling with the cocktail mixer still in your hands. "That don't sound too bad, I suppose," you glanced back at the clock over the bar. "My shift ends in about an hour and a half. Think you can wait?"

"Time is fickle and good company is rare and far between," your breath caught at his words as his knowing silver eyes locked onto yours. "Get back to work. I'll be back here when you're done ... though maybe a name to associate with my new companion before you leave."

"MC," you quickly offered, almost too quickly. "M-My name is MC. I-I um, yes. Back to work!"

He watched you go, his chest warm with the promise of something new, something exciting, something fun.

Gods, he hadn't felt this alive in centuries. He set down his drink and leaned back, simply enjoying the thriving atmosphere once more.

Nearly two hours later, the two of you were laughing as you walked through the empty city streets.

"There's no way," you cackled, fanning your face with your hand as your shoulders hitched. "There is no possible way that 's true."

"Well it is," Solomon teasingly reassured. "I presented his lordship with cookies that I spent at least a day preparing and they were so delightful, the man fainted on the spot. I am an excellent cook, I'll have you know."

He soaked in the sight of your head thrown back in laughter, the moon casting you in its mysterious glow and glittering off the embellishments of your uniform — a natural masterpiece. He had always been an admirer of humanity and the strange yet fascinating quirks it possessed but with you there was something drawing him in like the strongest undertow. As though the pulls of your charisma and beauty were the deadly tide and he was a sailor lost at sea. How tempting it was to let himself drown.

It was a draw he hadn't experienced since he tasted his first licks of magic.

"Solomon," he blinked himself out of his thoughts to see your hand waving in front of his face. A soft smile eased onto your face as you met eyes. "Thought you were lost there for a moment. Am I boring you that much?"

Warmth filled his chest as he smiled in return and took one of your hands into his own. "Quite the contrary."

The lovely flustered expression returned to your face once more. "Aren't you quite the flatterer," you chuckled staring at your two hands interlocked.

He hummed, never once taking his eyes off you. "Is that an issue?"

Sparks run up his spine as he felt you gently squeeze his hand. "Not so long as I'm the one you're flirting with."

A smile split across his face, "That can be arranged."

The night was one Solomon wouldn't forget. It was the first night he got to know you, really know you. You took turns asking each other questions, hands glued together, completely oblivious to the hours slipping by. The only care the two of you had was what would happen after it was time to say goodbye.

Turns out it didn't need to be a concern.

Solomon visited you in and outside of work frequently. The two of you would sneak away and Solomon would take you to all of his favourite places — little pieces of paradise that he liked to escape to when the world became too much. It wasn't something that he shared often but, as with anything related to you, you were the exception.

It was almost frightening how easy it was to open up to you. Solomon wouldn't describe himself as a particularly guarded person, but he appreciated some distance, it was safer that way. There were moments were he considered the thought that maybe you were a trap sent by someone he had annoyed. That you were charmed specifically for him to fall for.

He did research. He ran tests as subtly as he could without your clever mind catching on. The conclusion he came to was not one he had ever anticipated.

You weren't a trap designed for his destruction.

You were his soulmate.

He had heard of the concept before. They were rare and more of a child's tale than anything else. He had never actually met anyone with a genuine soulmate and as such, thought them to be nothing by horsefeathers.

But he couldn't deny it. There was a connection he felt to you the second he met you. You understood him in a way he had never encountered before. You were brilliant, and oh-so curious about everything around you. You grounded him and made him high all at once.

You were his other half.

It was a one in a million chance. One that he wasn't so keen to let go of.

The same day that Solomon made his realization, he bought a bouquet of flowers and took you to the same street the two of you had walked down until dawn.

"MC," he questioned softly as you swung your joined hands and looked at the bustling streets around you.

"Hm?" You hummed in acknowledgment, taking a second to sniff the white chrysanthemums and red primroses that he had gifted you.

"Will you allow me to court you?"

He expected sputtering, or that adorable bashful expression you get when he teases you, or perhaps laughter from shock. But he got none of that.

Instead, you cocked your eyebrow at him as you glanced over to him from the side of your eye. "Are we not already courting?"

Solomon felt his cheeks grow red as he stopped in his tracks and looked at you. "I beg your pardon?"

You snorted as gathered his arm with yours and pulled him back into pace alongside you once more. "We've been flirting with one another, going on unsupervised dates, and exchanging gifts for months now. I thought we were courting this whole time, you fool," you paused as realization struck you. "B-But um, if you didn't, then I ... I apologize if I was too forward or-"

"NO!" Solomon loudly amended, earning strange looks from the passerbys on the street around you. He waved at them in apologies before dragging you into a nearby ally. "No. That's not the case at all! I just thought we were being friendly and teasing one another!"

Your face only grew more flush at his words. "What? If that's friendly to you, then what in the world would courting mean to you?!"

He smirked as he leaned down close into your space, your back quickly finding the surface of the brick building behind you. "With any luck, and your permission, perhaps a kiss or two," your breath hitched as his hand came up to cup your cheek. "Telling you how when I see you, the sun ceases to exist as your light and radience is enough to warm me in even the cruelest of winters. Expressing that each time your eyes find mine, I'm taken back to that rainy little book shop and the sincere librarian who lived within it. Being sure that everyone knows exactly how much I love you."

"Solomon," you breathed, your voice threaded with utter awe that pooled in your eyes.

"I'll ask you again," he took another step closer. Your chests brushed against one another as the toes your shoes met. He could practically feel the frantic beating of your heart thrashing under your skin. "Will you allow me to court you? To love you and have you love me in turn?"

The bouquet that had been in your hands met the ground as you wound your arms around his neck and dragged his face down to meet yours.

A thousand lifetimes crashed into this one single moment, and for a second, Solomon felt so heartachingly mortal and timeless all at once. Your lips were richer than the oldest wines and equally addicting. They wrapped him with a powerful passion that he hadn't known he was missing. It was as though your souls had finally intertwined and were now waltzing the in the intimacy of your embrace.

He pressed his forehead against yours as you both pulled away. Your breath painted his shoulder as he felt your chest heave against him.

"Wow."

He couldn't help but laugh at your reaction, pulling you closer to him. "Is it safe for me to take this as an acceptance of my courting?"

You giggled, pecking his lips once more before bending down to pick up your discarded bouquet. "Of course it's a yes," you smirked as you batted his chest with the flowers. "It would've been a yes if you asked me properly months ago."

The smile that decorated his face was bigger and brighter than any smile he had ever worn before. He shook his head to himself took after you, ready chase after what little time with you had for every drop it was worth.

***And that's the first part of this Prequel! From here we'll be jumping to the 1930s for some pre-WW2 and then go from there! Hope you all enjoy! Thank you so much for your love and support!***

TAGLIST:

@thegrimgrinningghost @henry-and-the-seven-lords @satans-beloved-riv @cosmixbun @sufzku @obey-mes-treasure @kissed-by-a-dementor @yukihaie @justtiarra @mammoneybb @poly-bi-mf @burrixino @rul-of-demise @pumpkins-mainside-blog @acousticpen @sucker-for-angst-and-fluff @itskrispy @10paradox10 @vallison-rea @ivoryclive @newfangled-artistry @pumpkinpatchkid @chirikoheina @sailboat21 @theother4 @todoroses @circus-of-freaks @mcx7demonbros @bloopthebat

Can you do u and x with Mr. Lucifer 🥺🙏

🎉3k celebration 🎉

u - undo, how do they attempt to be forgiven for making you upset? what do you need to do after making them upset to get their forgiveness? 

It's in moments like this that Lucifer silently curses his pride. He is all too aware that you would never intentionally throw yourself in harms way without reason. "You aren't invincible," but still he seethes, anger veiled beneath a low tone bordering on a hiss. 

“I know.” 

"And yet, you continue to act with such stupidity that would give the impression that you are." He's being harsh, unnecessarily so, you shrink with each sentence that comes out of his mouth. It doesn’t help that any defense you could have is met with pushback from him.

"You were in trouble, I was just-" he was terrified. You had jumped out in front to defend him, almost getting yourself injured in the process. Terror in it’s purest forms settled itself inside his chest, it constricted his lungs until breathing seemed impossible. But as you stand before him now, apologetic in every sense of the word, he doesn't convey those feelings to you.

"I don't need your protection. Not when it will most likely end up with you dead." No. Instead he scolds you. And regret quickly settles in as you stare at him in silence. In those moments where nothing passes between the two of you but air, he reconsiders his actions. 

He could forgive you for just about anything if you apologized sweetly enough, but the thought of you sacrificing yourself for him, frightens him. Fear is not something he is familiar with and he realises that perhaps he should be telling you this instead of chiding you for good intentions.

The silences ends. Hurt flashing across your features, and then anger. "I'm sorry for being so weak that my protection offends you." You pause, a glare preceding your next words. "Next time I'll just stand to the sidelines and watch you get hurt then." Sarcasm drips from your mouth like venom, and sting him they do.

He tries about everything to gain your forgiveness, except for actually communicating his feelings. Flowers, chocolates, hand written notes that say he's sorry, as well as texts along the same lines. But when it comes to sharing with you how deeply fear dug its claws into his spine, he avoids it at every turn.

However, he'll go great lengths for your forgiveness. Even if he must confess, in a voice so small he forgets that its his own.

"I was afraid."

x - x-ray, what are some of their thoughts when with you that they don’t say aloud? 

You have a tendency of letting yourself into Lucifer’s study, claiming that you’re only doing it to make sure he remembers to take a break. Not that he minds, while he might sigh thinking about how much more work he has to do before he retires for a night, your presence is very much appreciated. 

Every time he reasons to himself that five minutes of respite from paragraphs of proposals wouldn’t hurt in the slightest. Only for those five minutes to teeter closer to an hour mark, sometimes even two. For some reason, every time, you both check the time, and realise its been far longer than five minutes, surprise follows. 

You apologise for keeping him so long, but he always tells you to not apologise as he’s always happy to spend time with you. “I’ll let you get back to work.” It’s why, despite knowing if you stay he’ll never finish his tasks, that as you leave, he thinks to himself:

‘Don’t leave, not yet.’