MAJOR HAZBIN HOTEL S2 SPOILERS AHEAD, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED
Genre; Hurt/comfort
Word Count; 3.1k (no idea what happened tbh)
Warnings; injuries, blood, briefest possible mentions of murder and psychopathy.
Pairings; Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) x Reader
Sooo you know how Lu didn't really know what was going on for the entire finale? And ended up badly injured but it was never addressed? Yeah. We're fixing that in this one :) This story is very goofy, thoust hast been warned. I had fun writing it, hope you enjoy!
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight
Masterlist
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A panel burst open on the plaza where Vox’s weapon had stood, and out crawled Lucifer. His clothes were torn and ragged, and deep shadows framed his eyes. His whole body swayed with every laboured breath he took.
“Dad?” Asked Charlie, drawing your attention to where he was trying to find his feet.
“Don’t go down there!” Lucifer warned you all, “it’s a place of pain.”
You rushed forwards automatically with Charlie and Vaggi as he dropped to the ground, face first. What exactly you thought you could do for the King of Hell was beyond you, but the sentiment of wanting to help was there. He could barely even lift his head.
“Oh my god, dad? Are you okay?”
Charlie’s hands were hovering over his shoulders, her eyes scanning him frantically. There was a lot of blood.
Lucifer groaned into the concrete.
“No, I’m… I’m fine, sweetie,” he muttered. He surprised each of you as he suddenly made the effort to prop himself up on his elbows, staring at Charlie with an uncharacteristically serious clarity. “Are you still mad at me?”
Charlie’s eyes widened.
“No, of course I’m not-”
She was interrupted when Heaven’s broadcast finally broke through, and Sir Pentious’ face and voice were beamed out across the city. Charlie gasped, leaping to her feet at the prospect of finally getting to see her friend. Then reality broke back in, and she dropped back to her knees to comfort her father. Her gaze alternated between him and the screen on the other side of the plaza, torn between her choices.
Vaggi laid a hand on Charlie’s shoulder in support and caught your gaze, silently asking you for help.
“Hey, go,” you told them both, offering an encouraging smile as Charlie cast a hopeful one up at you. “I’ll get him back to the hotel.”
She hesitated a moment longer, asking her dad if he’d be alright and receiving a not particularly convincing sure I will! in response. You assured her you’d take care of him, and, finally convinced, she thanked you before taking off with Vaggi to speak to Sir Pentious.
“Uh, Lucifer?” You started, crouching down to meet his gaze. “I’m gonna get you back to the hotel, okay?”
His consciousness seemed to slip for a moment, and he slid down a little closer to the ground.
“S’fine, I’m fine,” he insisted. “Just need a minute-”
“Woah!”
He jolted to his feet and you only just managed to catch him before he collapsed again. You froze just a little bit as the King of Hell put his full weight on you, his eyes closed and barely holding himself upright. But you pulled yourself together and arranged one of his arms to loop around your shoulders.
“Um, okay. Right. I don’t have a car, so we’re gonna have to walk.”
You realised your shirt was clinging to your ribs more than it should have been and leaned back to see it was soaked through with Lucifer’s golden blood.
“Crap,” you muttered. “You still with me?”
Lucifer hummed, shifting his head and subsequently knocking his hat against your cheek.
“You can walk. ‘M gonna fly.”
You frowned in concern, lest he actually tried it.
But then his free hand closed around your upper arm, keeping you close. You glanced around just to make sure you had no backup in this venture before wrapping an arm around him in return.
“Okay then, Lucifer. Let’s get going.”
“Lu~” he sang, conceding at least to match your steps, “call me Lu.”
“Uh… okay. Lu.”
His eyes still closed, a goofy grin pulled at his lips. You felt like pinching yourself. This was the King of Hell, open hater of sinners and the most powerful thing in Pentagram City by a few hundred miles, yet he was pressing his face into your neck like a cat and asking you to call him by a nickname. If he were to start purring it wouldn’t have surprised you. You were surprised to find he was acting more drunk than severely injured, but maybe it was a side effect of how his power had been hijacked.
“Huh,” Lucifer announced, digging his heels in as you passed a whole block of shelled out buildings, courtesy of Vox’s descent into temporary madness. “That’s lookin’… worse than normal.”
A piece of burning debris dropped onto the sidewalk in front of you.
“Somethin’ happen?”
You blinked silently, and his gaze was genuine when he met yours. Had he seriously not known what was going on this entire time?
“Yeah, Luci- uh, Lu. That thing you were stuck in was a weapon Vox had made to blow the gates off Heaven using your power. He then kinda lost it and turned it on Pentagram City, but I guess that’s an aside…”
It was Lucifer’s turn to blink in silence.
“Huh,” he said again, then carried on walking like nothing had happened.
Your expression was probably somewhere along the lines of fair enough. He didn’t care for sinners, after all. Maybe he’d be more upset about being used as an ethereal battery once he was recovered.
The journey to the hotel was slow going. Lucifer would trip on the sidewalk every so often and had no strength to catch himself, leaving you to have to do it for him. He might have been a fairly small person, but a lot had happened today and your arms were trembling with the effort of keep hauling up his whole bodyweight. You could have cried in relief when the spires of the hotel finally came into view above the other buildings.
“So how do you know Charlie?” Lucifer asked, pulling back far enough to pin you with a challenging stare. His voice had gone into full protective parent mode.
Oh no. Even half out of his mind with pain and exhaustion, this was not someone you wanted to upset.
“I-”
“You failed bad enough at life that you ended up down here, and now you think you wanna have a go at the whole redemption thing?”
Ouch. You actually hadn’t done anything particularly evil while you were alive. You had thought about it often, and concluded you were probably down here through apathy more than anything else. A lack of the rainbows and sprinkles goodness that seemed to get you into heaven, rather than the presence of anything particularly heinous. Anyway, you’d made some good friends in Hell, odd though that sentiment was. You weren’t all that concerned about getting out.
“Well, no, actually. I spend a lot of time in Cannibal Town and happen to know Alastor-”
“Ugh, that stupid deer.”
Your eyebrows raised up to your hairline of their own accord. It wasn’t like you didn’t know the two of them were always arguing, but Lucifer sounded so… petulant.
“Bambi, Bambi, Bambi,” Lucifer continued unabated, waving a hand around for good measure. “Why does everything always have to come back to him? He’s got the most grandiose tickets on himself of any bellhop I’ve ever even heard of, let alone seen. And what has he done for Charlie anyway?”
He looked back at you, clearly expecting you to answer.
“Well, I don’t-”
“Exactly, you don’t know. Because he hasn’t done anything of any importance. And when Adam was trying to kill her, what did he do? Ran away to tend to his wounds. I showed up and saved the day, not him. He couldn’t even do that.”
Apparently satisfied with his little rant, Lucifer turned a far more pacified expression on you.
“What were you saying?”
You made a mental note not to bring up Alastor again.
“I heard about the hotel and figured I’d help out if they needed it,” you explained, opting for the Alastor-free version of events. “Charlie keeps trying to get me to stay as a guest, but I’m happier just supporting their work.”
Lucifer frowned up at you theatrically, paying zero attention to where he was going and thus only just avoiding ending up in an overturned dumpster thanks to your quick manoeuvring skills. He looped his other arm around your neck, only just this side of resting his chin on your collarbone. He was hardly even walking anymore and you huffed as you locked your arms around his waist, conceding that you would just have to more or less carry him up the biggest hill in the whole city. At least that was the last barrier before the hotel.
“What do you do in your spare time? When you’re not helping out around the hotel?”
This conversation would have been a hell of a lot easier if he wasn’t all but wrapped around you and there wasn’t a stupidly steep hill to climb. Your brain was spinning like a hamster wheel, trying to come up with an answer.
“I don’t know… I do some work at a tea room in Cannibal Town. Then there’s this pet shop – or more like a pound, really – that I spend a lot of time at. The animals really need to see a friendly face and a lot of them have been abandoned there or left out on the streets. I walk some of them, play games with them. I always try to bring them little toys and treats so they know someone cares about them…”
Your mouth snapped shut at the look Lucifer was giving you. Flabbergasted was not a word you had ever been able to assign to someone’s expression before, but this sure fit the bill.
“You’re kidding. You weren’t – I don’t know, a serial killer up top? Or a psychopath? What did you do for work?”
“Animal keeper at a rescue and rehabilitation centre,” you mumbled, trying to duck your head to avoid Lucifer’s piercing gaze.
He forced you to look at him anyway with a hand on your jaw, somehow now even more flabbergasted than he had been previously.
“Then what the hell are you doing down here?”
You shrugged somewhat helplessly. If the Devil couldn’t answer that, how could you?
Thankfully, you were saved from the interrogation by your arrival at the entrance to the hotel.
“Okay, we’re here,” you told Lucifer, just about managing to get you and him through the door without dropping him.
The lobby was dark, quiet. A huge contrast to how it was normally and a little childishly, you were glad you weren’t on your own.
“How do we get to your rooms?” You asked, because you’d never been to his section of the hotel before and you were fairly certain he didn’t use the main elevator.
He scoffed like the answer was obvious and dropped his head back into your neck, apparently all out of energy for being serious.
“Fly, duh.”
Lucifer’s dead weight was really starting to get a lot for you to handle. He’d given up entirely now, and at this point, if you were to let go of him he’d just drop to the ground.
“Not helpful, Lu.”
Even if you had wings, you doubt you could have flown both you and him anywhere. Main elevator it was then.
“What floor?” You asked as you stepped inside.
He told you, at least, and you managed to get the both of you to his door without too much trouble. You were internally debating whether you should go in with him or leave him there and hope for the best – lest he didn’t want you in his personal area, which you could absolutely understand – only to feel his arms tighten around your neck.
That answered that, then.
The lights were already on when you pushed open the door, and you stopped almost immediately at the sight before you. There were ducks everywhere. Not a single piece of anything wasn’t duck themed, not to mention the piles of them lining every wall. He had a work bench off to one side with a few ducks in progress, leading you to believe he had probably made most of what you were seeing.
You didn’t realise you were grinning until –
“You have a really pretty smile,” Lucifer muttered, head resting on your shoulder so he could look up at you.
The comment startled a laugh out of you. Doing your best to ignore Lucifer’s insistent staring, you cast around for a towel to lay out on his bed to avoid getting blood on the duvet. You ended up choosing one of a great many duck themed blankets, hoping he either wasn’t too attached to it or it could be machine washed.
He let out a pained groan as you laid him down as gently as you could. There really was a lot of blood, you thought again, now you were on your own with him and responsible for looking after him. You needed a first aid kit. You picked up his hat and moved it to one side, propping his head up on a pillow to make him as comfortable as you could.
“I just need to go get some supplies, okay? I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
You were pleased to find you sounded more confident than you felt as you turned away from him.
“You do that, animal rescuer ‘n’… rehabilitatorer.”
You couldn’t keep your snort of laughter down, but he didn’t seem to notice. He seemed to be falling asleep and you wondered at the wisdom of letting him, but there wasn’t anything you could do. You just needed to get the medical supplies as fast as you could.
By the time you returned, he’d managed to get his coat halfway off and undone his shirt, letting you get your first clear look at the many wounds littering his chest.
“Oh my god,” you muttered as you rushed over to him, upturning the kits you brought to start tending to him immediately.
“Oh hey, you’re back! Yeah, a lot of these aren’t as bad as they look so no need to panic- ow!”
Antiseptic wipes on open wounds were not a fun experience, you knew all too well. That said, he could have ended up with someone old enough that their idea of help was to dump whiskey on them, which would have been significantly worse.
“Look, I appreciate the help and all but I assure you I’ll be fi – argh! – fine, I got pretty good healing properties. Comes with being an a – ah! – angel. You’re overreacting just a tiny bit-”
Lucifer hissed, exactly like a snake, and his hand flew to your wrist. The grip didn’t hurt, but you could feel the strength behind it so clearly that you froze. He took a moment to steady his breathing.
“Thank you, for helping me. Really. But I promise, you won’t even be able to see these in a couple of days.”
You glanced back down to his chest, a few of the deeper cuts still bleeding. Whatever he saw in your expression when you looked up at him again made his gaze soften.
“At least let me wrap them for you?” You asked.
Sure, he would heal, and he was already better than he had been just a few short minutes ago, but that wasn’t really the point. You were the only one there for him in that moment and you wanted him to know you cared.
He sighed quietly, before releasing your wrist and nodding his agreement.
“Okay.”
Lucifer slipped out of his coat and shirt and sat up to give you room to wind the bandages around his torso, occasionally holding pads in place for you to cover the worst of the wounds. When you finally sat back, satisfied with your work, Lucifer’s expression was softer than you really knew what to do with.
“Thank you, really,” he murmured, pleased by your smile. “Promise I’m not gonna die on ya, alright?”
“I’m holding you to that,” you joked back, certain you heard him mutter please do. “Well, I’ll let you get some rest.”
You stood and raised a hand in goodbye, making for the door and the silent, empty hotel which lay beyond it. Lucifer’s gaze bore into your back. You didn’t really want to leave just yet, but who were you to ask to spend time with royalty just so you didn’t feel lonely? Anyway, he’d probably think the notion was pathetic even if you did have the guts to say anything.
“You uh, you like ducks?” You heard from behind you, just as you touched the door handle.
You turned back with a questioning hum, catching the tail-end of Lucifer’s cringe. He started laughing nervously, running an awkward hand over the back of his neck and then very clearly suddenly remembering he still wasn’t wearing a shirt.
“Oh, shit,” he muttered, scrambling for the fluffiest pink bathrobe you had ever laid eyes on. He fumbled to tie it around himself, cheeks heating with embarrassment he then desperately tried to cover up.
“Ah, I was just asking if you, uh, if you like ducks. ‘Cause I saw you were lookin’ at them before and – I mean, I know I have a lot of ducks – but they’re really great, and, well, I was wondering if you’d want to watch the movie version of The Great Quacksby? With me? I mean, of course you don’t have to. You probably have loads of better things to do, but-”
“I’d love to.”
Lucifer stopped rambling long enough to see the genuine smile on your face, your genuine interest in something he loved.
“Oh. Well, that’s great! It’s already in the DVD player, I was watching it earlier.”
He looked out the TV remote and sat down on a sofa decorated with duck shaped cushions, beckoning you over to join him. You went to sit, only to remember that your shirt was also covered in his blood. Lucifer frowned at your hesitation, then snapped his fingers to conjure up an oversized pink sweater when he realised what the problem was. It was the softest garment you’d ever held. You considered that taking a shower and coming back to watch the movie later was probably a more logical decision, but simply pulling the sweater over your head took so much less energy. However good The Great Quacksby was, your exhaustion had finally sank in and you had the feeling you were going to end up falling asleep halfway through anyway.
“I just wanted to say thank you,” Lucifer told you more quietly, as the TV booted up. “For what you – well. You know.”
King of Pride indeed. But you did know what he meant. No one else had really been there for him today, and you were glad you couldn’t say the same.
Hazbin Hotel Masterlist: Women Who Need Their Love Monstrous
Mature audiences only. Lover of poetic prose and morally questionable men. My very specific kink is converting readers who have never liked Reader Inserts over to the dark side. 😈
SERIES
♡ Dealbreaker (Alastor x Reader)
What you'll find: witchcraft, human sacrifices, baking, forced proximity, slow burn, a lot of plot (what have I done), reader is married to ancient demon
Most people don't need an ancient Sumerian ritual to summon their estranged husband, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
The residents of the Hazbin Hotel will need archaic forbidden magic to protect all of Hell from destruction. These pompous modern overlords have forgotten the ways of the elder ones, but they'll learn the hard way from the woman who won her freedom from an ancient demon and got him to put a ring on it. Amicable separations are for mature adults—and nobody is more mature than the woman who was once offered as a human virgin sacrifice, thank you very much.
You just need the Radio Demon to stop sticking his nosy antlers where they don't belong. He is burnt sugar and bad intentions, and baby, you've seen it all before.
Excerpt: Go, Alastor wants to say. Enjoy this before I lead you to my altar and demand devotion.
♡ Maneater (Vox x Reader, Alastor x Reader)What you'll find: femdom, reader hunting Vox, Alastor hunting reader, scheming, smut
They call you Maeve the Maneater. Maeve the Mindfucker. You're the top dominatrix in the Pride Ring, and your latest assignment—retrieving a memory from Vox—should be just another game of manipulation. You've been hired to break him, and you're more than ready to deliver justice to bad men.
But your first mistake is studying the Radio Demon, Alastor, to understand how to unravel Vox. What starts as a calculated move soon turns into something far more dangerous. As Alastor interferes for his own twisted amusement in your hunt for Vox, the lines between hunter and hunted blur. Caught between two powerful demons, you’re drawn into a storm of power, lust, and dangerous emotions—one that threatens to strip you of more than just control.
Excerpt: Vox tastes like industry. Brutality. The closing of a good day at the stock market.
♡ The Bone Witch (Human Alastor x Reader)
What you'll find: reader speaks to the dead, ghost/monster of the week adventures, uh oh who is that at your window
Your grandmother was run out of New Orleans for being a witch. Decades later, you’re heading straight for the Crescent City. When a suitor turned up dead in your small hometown’s church graveyard—without you so much as touching him—the whispers grew too loud to bear.
In the 1930s, a clever woman can make a living speaking to the dead, and New Orleans is a city where spirits are always eager to talk.
But one voice rises above the rest—smooth, dangerous, drawing you in like a song you can’t ignore. He might be something worse than the devil Mama warned you about.
The dead may have called you here, but he’s the one who’s keeping you.
Excerpt: "Frances, you can try to run from me. It won't work." His gaze is merciless. "I'll find you, but if it makes you feel better, I'll give you a long leash."
ONE-SHOT SERIES
A Curation of Sharp and Lovely Things (Book of One-Shots that will feature Reader x Alastor, Reader x Lucifer, Reader x Vox)
What you'll find: mostly smut
All the stories that won't stop scratching at the coffin lid: one shots, novellas, and more.
A graveyard of writings featuring Alastor x Reader, Vox x Reader, Lucifer x Reader, and more.
Questionable morals, smut, and the romanticization of deeply flawed maniacs inside.
Table of Contents for A Curation of Sharp and Lovely Things:
The Serpent and His Chainsaw Heart (Lucifer x Reader) - The King of Hell is a big fan. He’s also lonely. You know this because he’s told you no less than three times, always while making excuses to interrupt your writing.
Excerpt: If you tilt your head to one side and strain to listen, it is the sound of the serpent cutting through the grass.
The Last Quiet Breath of a Star (Human Alastor x Reader) - His love is patient, like rot. It waits, it spreads, it wins. When a star dies, what comes next?
Excerpt: He sits on the edge of your bed like a beautiful nightmare. It is rather rude that God cursed you with seeing the future and blessed him with the face of an angel while he guts the men of this city.
Miscommunication: A Valhalla of Your Own Making (Alastor x Reader) - Only Alastor thinks a woman is attempting to seduce him when she asks if she can bludgeon him.
Excerpt: “Finally,” he rasps, eyes burning with vicious, triumphant hunger. “Was beginning to think you’d never take the bait.”
Coming Soon:
Unveiled, At Last (Vox x Reader): One night. One mask. One anonymous mistake—you slept with the worst overlord in Hell, and now he’s setting the underworld ablaze to find the woman behind the disguise.
The Alternate (Alastor x Reader): In this timeline, he is your perfect Alastor: podcast host, history nerd, and perfect boyfriend four years running. Too bad about that other timeline that comes knocking.
Cover Art: Graphic design is my passion~
May your love stories be absolutely bone-chilling, darling.
It takes a while to find the address listed by your new employer, embarrassingly. It's Vee Tower, one of the tallest buildings in the city, and you hadn't even realized it. Your nerves nearly get the better of you as you approach.
Fuck, you realize, this guy is someone important…!
Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself before walking up the path to the large front doors.
You can do this, you tell yourself, you're just going to be taking care of this guy's sharks for a few days, then you'll probably never see him again.
You open the doors to find a bustling lobby. Demons rush about every which way, several carrying piles of documents. You thank the powers that be that isn't you. You'd never survive an office job with papers and deadlines.
You approach the front desk, and the receptionist–a fish demon of some sort–sends you a look you can't quite decipher, but are pretty sure is judgmental or negative in some capacity.
“Hi!” you greet them, mustering what you hope is a friendly smile, “I'm here to see… Vox? I'm here to pet-sit for… him?”
The receptionist shoots you another indecipherable look, before adjusting their glasses. “Yes… let me call him down for you…” they reply with a tone that you don't really like. They push a button on their headset, “Vox, your pet-sitter is here.”
You watch with a now strained smile as they nod their head to a response they receive. They turn to fully face you before speaking again.
“Vox will be down in a moment, please take a seat over there and wait for him.” They point to a row of seats along the wall.
It takes a moment to process what they said, but you nod anyway, standing a little too long at the desk before you turn and hesitantly take a seat. Damn! I look like an idiot!
The wait is excruciating, taking only a few minutes, but feeling like hours. You fidget in your seat, feeling for all the world like everyone is watching you, judging you.
Finally, you hear the ding! of an elevator chime, and look up to see a tall TV-headed demon stepping through the doors of the nearest elevator. He's dressed smartly, adjusting the lapels of his pinstriped tuxedo jacket before moving on to his bow tie. He takes a glance in your direction, before striding over, a wide showman's smile taking over his face.
“Ah, yes!” he greets, an air of what you can only describe as smugness in his voice, “__Y/N__, right? It's so good to see you've made it! Welcome to Voxtek headquarters! I'm Vox, of course, I'm sure I need no introduction…!” He leans down and offers you a handshake.
It takes a moment for you to recognize the gesture, but as soon as you do, you take his hand in yours and give it an awkward shake. You have no idea who he is, but you nod along anyway. “Ah, yeah…! It's nice to meet you, Vox!” you say, before brightening and standing from your seat, “So, who are the babies I'll be taking care of?”
Vox's smug smile morphs into a more genuine one. “Of course! I'm so glad you asked!” He places a hand on your back and leads you towards the elevator, not seeming to notice your flinch at his touch.
He takes you to the floor above his studio, where access to the first tank is. Inside the tank are several cybernetically enhanced sharks of varying sizes and species. He points out each individual shark and tells you their names, and you make a mental note of each one.
Once you've seen the first tank, he takes you to the kitchen where the sharks’ food is stored and prepared. The kitchen is pristine, completely spotless, and has three fridges and two freezers filled with raw meat. Vox walks you through the feeding schedules before leading you up a few floors to his office.
“... and this here is my pride and joy!” Vox tells you, gesturing to the tank behind his desk with a flourish, “Shock.wav!”
Inside is the single largest living shark you have ever seen. She—you can tell she's female by the lack of claspers coming off her anal fins—is somewhere between a great white and a megalodon in size. She's a biomechanical hybrid of some sort, with pulsating electronic lights accenting her body.
You stare at Shock.wav for a moment in awe.
“... she's beautiful…!” you breathe. If a little bit overweight.
Vox chuckles at your reaction. “She is gorgeous, isn't she?” He puts a hand on your shoulder, “So… you think you can handle all of them for a few days?”
“Absolutely!” you nod.
“Great! Great!” he approves, “Well, in that case, let me show you to your room!”
He leads you back to the elevator, and takes you up two more floors, to the floor just below the penthouse. There, he leads you down a hall to a one-bedroom condo, complete with a full bathroom and a fully-stocked kitchen.
Once the tour is finished, you and Vox take the elevator back to the ground floor.
“Thank you so much for agreeing to do this, you have no idea how hard it is to get someone competent to care for these sharks!” Vox tells you, a note of what you think might be condescension in his voice. He pats your back. “Well, I have places to be! If you have any more questions, feel free to ask any of my employees!”
You nod. “Of course. Have a good trip!” you wave after him as he makes his way to the front door. “And don’t worry, I’ll take good care of your babies for you!”
Vox turns to face you as the doors open for him, his showman’s smile turning sinister.
“You’d better.”
And with that, the doors close behind him.
As soon as he’s gone, you’re in animal care mode. You take the elevator back up to the first tank to check the water’s pH and saline levels. You make some minor adjustments before heading up to do the same for Shock.wav’s tank. Once you’re satisfied with the homeostatic balance of both tanks, you take it upon yourself to put together a feeding chart for each of the sharks; noting the precise time you feed each one, as well as the weight of the meat you give them.
Before you go to bed, you eat some dinner of your own while putting together a plan to get Shock.wav down to a healthier weight involving exercise and a controlled diet.
You spend the next three days following your animal care plan, feeding the sharks and working on target-training Shock.wav. She is wonderfully intelligent, just as you suspect, and you make a note to suggest to Vox that he provide her with extra enrichment when he returns.
It’s on the third day that you come across a problem; the tanks need cleaning, and Vox neglected to tell you where the diving gear is.
It’s not a big problem, you can just ask one of his employees. So you think.
You’re able to stop one Voxtek employee in his rush from one office to another, an eel demon with mismatched eyes.
“Excuse me,” you tell him, “I have a question.”
The eel demon stops, sending you a hesitant glance. “Ah… yes…?”
“Yeah! Hi! I’m the petsitter Vox hired a few days ago,” you introduce yourself, “and I was wondering if you might know where the diving gear is?”
“Diving gear?” he repeats, incredulous.
“Yeah!” you push, “There’s some algae build-up in the shark tanks, and I need diving gear in order to clean that up.”
“You want to swim in the shark tanks?”
You frown, brows pinched in concern, “Uh, yeah? I need to in order to clean the tanks…!”
The eel demon shakes his head, looking at you like you’d just sprouted an extra head. “Are you crazy?”
“That’s up to debate,” you admit truthfully, “but not because of this. So is there any diving equipment…?”
“No,” the demon tells you, a little too strongly, “because no one is crazy enough to try to swim with Mr. Vox’s sharks!” With that, he turns and continues on his way, leaving you with a dilemma.
You return to the floor with the first tank, and pace in front of it, thinking.
“There’s no way I’d be able to hold my breath long enough to even get to some of the algae spots, let alone clean them…” you muse, “Damn… If only I was a fish demon, like that eel guy…!”
The thought of the way he spoke to you irks you a bit.
“Crazy! He called me crazy!” You frown as you continue to pace, before stopping to stare at your reflection in the glass, “Wanting to do my job doesn’t make me crazy! Right?”
You scowl, before mimicking what the eel demon had told you, even trying to remember and mimic his mannerisms.
“‘No one is crazy enough to try to swim with Mr. Vox’s sharks!’” you mock, changing your posture to match the employee’s.
And suddenly, your reflection changes to that of an eel demon.
“Huh?” You squint, blink, and take a closer look at your reflection. It’s not your imagination, your reflection has changed. You look down at yourself and find that yes, your reflection matches your actual current appearance.
You drop the act, slowly turning around while looking at yourself, and your body shifts back into your own demonic form, right before your eyes.
“Huh,” you say to yourself, “that’s… interesting.”
You have an idea.
You begin, again, to mimic the mannerisms of the eel demon, and your body shifts once again to match. You reach to feel the gills at the side of your neck, and find that they are indeed there.
Problem unexpectedly solved.
With your newfound ability, cleaning the sharks’ tanks is easy. Sure, a couple of the sharks, including Shock.wav, charge you, but you know just what to do about that.
“Get rotated, idiot,” you joke underwater as you take one charging shark by the nose and gently flip it upside-down, putting it into tonic immobility.
And so it happens that the tanks are pristine when Vox returns from his business trip.
tags/cw: holiday season premise, fluff, so muchhhh fluff, female/wife!reader, nephilim!reader, soft!vox // mostly sfw, some swearing, suggestive/implied nsfw.
a/n: happy holidays to everyone !! What can I say? I love an excuse to indulge in being a huge softie.
The perfect Sinsmas gift for you doesn't exis- wait, maybe it does and somehow Vox has managed to figure it out all on his own.
Vox, high and mighty as he is now as the dedicated CEO of Voxtek and one of the most powerful Overlords in Hell… still has a soft spot for Christmas.
It’s almost cute. Almost.
More than half a century and Vox still gets excited about- well, it’s not Christmas anymore- it’s Sinsmas. The Hellborn call it that, and when in Hell, right? Plenty of sinners adopt the term.
As far as you can tell, though, amongst sinners the concept is the same as it had been when you and Vox were both alive. Everyone has just dropped the false pretense that the holiday has anything to do with Catholicism or religion or goodness at all, it’s all about the novelty, the excitement, the stuff. This suits you better than Christmas ever did, actually- it’s a refreshing bit of ironic honesty reflected in Hell- but that doesn’t mean you want to go all out to celebrate it every twelve grueling months for the rest of eternity.
A fondness wells up in your bones to consider the almost boyish joy he gets out of the goings on- but your dread outweighs it.
It just… it’s not that you don’t love the idea, theoretically, or the way Vox turns into an absolute puppy about it behind closed and locked- but it just… the concept started to grate on your nerves after a while?
Really, the only Sinsmas “present” you’ve ever asked for directly while in Hell is to forego the frenzy on the Eve and the day- solely between the two of you. Of course, it’s been the three of you for years now and it’s soon to be four of you, but your point still stands. All you want for Sinsmas is to be with your person- plus a few others- and do something quieter and infinitely lower stakes than everything else going outside the windows.
You’ve managed to wrangle Vox into only really going entirely out celebrating with you- and Valentino, now plus Velvette, because by Satan, you were dragging her along now too- every five years. Exactly five, no budging… well. Not yet, anyway. You have a very secret goal of tacking on another five eventually to round it out to once a decade, for your personal sanity… but you knew well enough that you had to ease him into this routine first for that to go over anywhere in the zipcode of nicely.
Hedonism has never really been your thing, even while alive, and being dead has not changed that fact about you. The fact that everything is just spinning and spinning endlessly, but also too fast and seemingly faster every year? Over and over and over-
Vox relents to your whim, not without some reluctance- but knowing your moods almost as well as his own, and priding himself on that fact, he dials it back just for you. There’s very little about it that he’s actually missing out on by doing so- especially with Valentino picking up some of that slack, you’re almost grateful for him- but even so, it’s quite literally a boon he grants just for you. Nobody else in Hell gets a reprieve for even a second.
In fact… you think everyone else must have it worse because of your odd little whims. Oops.
The ads and the “deals” and the marketing still go out, of course, still get argued over nearly endlessly until the very last moment. With the excessive amount of lights and other decorations, you’re stuck fixing mystery electrical outages for hours at a time. Ones that Vox swears are not his doing; you only believe about half of his attempts to convince you otherwise.
There’s corny holiday pornshoots directed by the one, the only, Valentino as there have been for years and years now. There’s appropriately trussed up specialty products for the season and then some. Endless amounts of parties of varying quality. Specialty mixed drinks with Sinamas themed names, drugs, new songs with terrible lyrics, clothes, trinkets and treats galore regardless of what you’re personally getting up to.
You still get all dolled up and hang off his arm, off of Val’s arm when the mood takes him, for all the necessary events. The flash of the camera follows you into what few dreams you have because there’s always another photoshoot, another event, another… but you know there’s no budging on that bit. You’re resigned to it and don’t try to weasel out of any of the public shitshow things. It’s not about the ratings for you or the fame or the money. It’s a simple conviction on your part. Where Vox is, you’re never far behind- and nothing in Hell or Earth except maybe a second death is getting in the way of that conviction of yours.
Honestly, if you didn’t work with him- in the same building-, you’re convinced you wouldn’t see him the entire season.
A crying shame that would be because- and perhaps this is only true because he’s rubbed off on you after all this time- there’s something extremely amusing about watching him work out his own personal holiday spirit by absolutely piledriving the general populace with advertisements, new gadgets, and so on for three or so months. That you divert that extra fraction of his obsessive attention related to the holidays every half a decade to celebrate exclusively with you and yours is, with that in mind, something you consider your own personal gift to Hell’s eternally suffering population.
Point being, it’s a big ticket holiday- it generates content, excitement, money, and new contracts galore. You’d never argue against it being exactly as it is for Voxtek, but for you? Eh… lowkey has never been standard practice given your inclination towards certain personality types… but you think this once it’s worth it.
Vox thinks it’s worth it almost entirely because it means you’re not stressed out, because… obviously. He’s known you far too long not to know better and if he was going to put himself in an unstable situation he didn’t want it to be over objectively stupid shit like Sinsmas. Vox may have had… issues… with his head in the past, but ultimately he still likes it better attached to his body than anywhere else.
Not to mention it’s worth it because you’re not a heartless monster and every five years you really give it your all- more than you ever did before, actually- and seem to be fairly happy doing it all. Private parties, insanely well-thought out decorations, a real-adjacent tree in the penthouse instead of a hologram because he’s always feeling nostalgic for it. Plus the joy he gets out of watching Val get on your nerves, in a fun way, while decorating it together. Just the three of you… (Four of you now, he supposes Velvette will inevitably be joining. Although he highly doubts she’ll contribute much but snide comments, background noise.) Besides… you also bake like nobody else in Heaven or Hell.
Vox always reminds you when it’s your year, and has folders upon folders of surveillance and memories just for the occasion- he looks forward to it. For a guy who famously hates edging… this is perhaps the only exception to the rule.
This particular year is not one of your “go all out” celebration years. Vox, of course, had already tried to convince you to change it up- just this once he said. You know that’s bullshit because if you give an inch his stride overshoots it by leagues. He says he asks for Velvette’s sake and her sake alone. Also bullshit but it makes you laugh a little, he knows that the only thing you’ll admit to being excited for is Velvette’s first themed fashion show.
It’s her first year as an exclusive member of the Vees, that’s all. You think that makes it special. That’s the only reason you’re at all interested. Vox rolls his eyes at you.
“Vel’s going to be busy with her first special runway collection.” You argue simply, but not unkindly, while fixing his bowtie with idle fingers drifting to the bezel of his screen affectionately. Vox tips his head closer to yours, chasing your touch- you continue, “A quiet year to get acquainted is just what she needs.”
“Vel’s not like you.” He runs his fingertips down the length of your spine, right between your wings in the way that drives you wild- his teasing voice crackles softly against where your ear should be, “She likes big and loud, baby.”
“Oh, I don’t like big and loud, huh?” You snort, running your fingertips up and down the front of his vest- careful to keep your claws from catching. “What am I to do with you then?”
“I’ve got a few ideas. Real innovative ones, promise.” Eyes alight with mischief, grin wide with the edge dripping with red pixels; his hands shift from your spine to your hips to drag you closer still.
“Mhm, I’d expect nothing less.” You cackle, submitting to a series of static laced kisses- pushing at his screen insistantly, you add- giggling when he tries again, persistent- “Hold that thought- don’t whine, just a second- let me text Velvette and ask her what she wants.”
His eyes glow impossibly brighter, wider and rounder.
“So… Sinsmas… this year… maybe?”
You flick the edge of his screen with a sigh, let yourself fall back until the only thing holding you upright is his hands on you. “Maybe… Just- maybe, okay?”
Vox’ll take a maybe from you. Your maybe was a million times better and more reliable than most people’s: I will. His eyes drift over your shoulder, between your wings and towards the bed, to the neatly done up sheets, and the- Oh.
Oh. His grin dips off into the ether beyond his screen it stretches so wide.
Quite suddenly Vox has got a brilliant idea for what to get for you this year.
“You couldn’t wait for me?” Vox’s voice pitches high and undoubtedly whiny as the bedroom door slides open and he sees- you. Beautiful, wonderful you.
At least… he sure hopes it’s you under that blue blanket, faux fur and all- none of that cheap sherpa shit. If it’s not, obviously he’s got a far bigger problem with security than you getting into your Sinsmas gift without him. The one that mattered, that was personal and extremely clever!
“Note said I didn’t have to wait!” The fuzzy lump on his king sized bed, radiating heat in waves that are so strong they’re almost visible to the naked eye of the average sinner, mumbles with unabashed delight.
The aforementioned note sits neatly folded on the bedside table and Vox wishes he hadn’t written it as a courtesy… he hadn’t expected you to take it at face value! You normally wouldn’t!
“But you couldn’t?” Vox whines, knee on the edge of the bed as he makes his way closer. “I can look at the footage, duh, but I would’ve liked to be there…”
“We love it.” You say from beneath the electric blanket. “If it’s any consolation, honey.”
A faint glitch travels across his screen, eyebrow raised, “We…?”
One of your larger wings lifts up and with it part of the blanket, allowing the light from Vox’s screen to penetrate into the toasty darkness underneath the heated blanket.
Oh. Oh. He is definitely, one hundred percent, looking at the footage later, but for now-
Click. Click. Click.
The rapid shutter click is loud enough to make you snicker, and the photographs catch the fond smile splitting your face in stages just the same as you hiking your wings up to hide it.
Vox takes an entirely reasonable amount of photographs of his adorable wife curled up with her adorable Sinasmas gift from last year. You had very quietly missed the days from when Vark was a baby for years and years before it occurred to him to just get you your own baby. His little tank projects are no longer so little, so there’s no shortage of space or the correct tank temperature for the new princess… plus, as a bonus, he dies a little from cuteness every time he sees you two together…
The aforementioned baby Tiger-Hellshark, Bathsheba- he had to let you name her, obviously- sighs petulantly at the sudden blast of electric blue light and chilly air. Blinking sleepily up at him- she yawns, cute as can be for a pup with an extreme attitude, and then snaps her jaw shut; squinting up at him, as if to say: “See what you did? You ruined my nice cozy nap with mama. Idiot.”
“Fucking Hell. You’re going to kill me. Both of you.” Vox grabs the edge of the soft blanket and holds it up even when your wing droops under the weight of it. Clumsily with his other hand he undoes the buttons of his shirt- tosses it haphazardly towards the floor. “Move over.”
Your eyes- including those on your wings- blink open in the darkness, red flashes of color in the darkness that twinkle like the abundance of holiday lights outside your little haven of boring normality. “No- honey- you’ll overheat-”
“Just five minutes- I’ll put a timer on! Just- just let me cuddle with my girls!”
You sigh exactly like your beloved pet, a little petulant and yet a little pleased to see him all the same. Whatever protest you’re gearing up to give dies quietly while you watch him fumble with his clothes; the most you do to help is lift your wing again to give him space next to your prone form. Well- at least as much as Bathsheba is willing to relinquish tucked into your side.
Vox struggles out of his slacks with renewed desperation and maneuvers into the space you leave open for him- cold air seeping into it in the meantime…
“How high do you have this-” Is what he goes to say, dimming his screen as you drop the blanket back down with a soft thump.
“You wouldn’t take no for an answer.” You remind in a quiet singsong tone and he can only huff mildly as he slides his arm underneath your head; feels your feathers tickling against his synthetic skin in an almost-kiss.
Bathsheba, for her part as the littlest and cutest princess that ever was, starts to wag her thick tail as she realizes it’s nice and warm again, plus she’s sandwiched between her two favorite people- hitting you both repeatedly in the process. You clearly don’t mind, judging by your quiet laughter.
“So you like it, doll?” He asks, petting the back of your head to the same rhythm as his other hand reaches down to stroke Bathsheba’s snout. Vox knows the answer already- but wants to hear it.
“Love it.” You say immediately, no hesitation- and then you add, quieter. “Love you.”
“I know- I’m just the best, aren’t I?” His dimmed screen brightens inadvertently when he flushes teal. “Merry Sinsmas, baby.”
“This is the third best thing you’ve ever gotten me, I hope you know.”
“Ever? Ever ever? Are we including when we were alive or…?” Vox asks with a sharp bark of laughter- glad that your wing has migrated up and over the glass of his screen to keep some of the direct heat off his screen.
You shift so your hand is sandwiched between the feathers and his face- teal light catching on the rings on your finger as you tap them against the glass. One’s a replica of the ring he’d gotten for you while you both lived, of course- very authentic, no extra bells and whistles- and another fit for Hell, fit for an integral member of the Vees- of his world, living or dead or something in-between.
“Ah, I see.” Vox scoffs faintly, teasing before kissing your palm as best he can because he’s not really surprised by your answer. “Nostalgia trumps practicality.”
“Undoubtedly.” Your mouth finds his shoulder sweetly, “But I like this thing too… I really like this.”
“Good.” He says, closes his eyes for several moments…. and then, as an afterthought- obviously not a worry or anything but he says- “This thing doesn’t replace me, I hope you know.”
You laugh gently but don’t answer, your feathers rustle in time with your breathing- tickling him faintly. The playfulness is gone from him when Vox’s eyes snap open again- he maneuvers just enough to poke you in the ribs.
Harsher than he means to by the sound of your disgruntled squeak, he reiterates, “Right, sweetheart? You know that, don’t you?”
“I know, I know.” You curl into his side as best you can, giggling now, light and airy and completely unbothered- and yeah sure, it’s hilarious to think he’s jealous of an inanimate object. He’s not, for the record. He’s just making sure you’re aware-
Grip suddenly tight around his hip, your freakish talons bite into skin just faintly- just enough to remind him you’re there- protective and possessive all at once, “I couldn’t replace you, Vox. Not with a trinket and not with anything else.”
Damn right you couldn’t, Vox thinks as he relaxes- closes his eyes- basks in your company and unbridled joy as a snake might in the sun. He could take or leave the oppressive heat you seem so fond of, but hey- Hell’s not perfect even if you are.
It ends up not being five minutes. He never put a timer on- totally forgot to. It’s more like thirty five- and the only reason it’s not fifty-five is because you kick him out when his fans start to squeak and rattle.
Good thing too, he’s sluggish and irritable but not literally giving off smoke when he crawls out from underneath the blanket into the frozen wasteland that is the rest of his penthouse- and thank Satan for that. He flops unceremoniously next to you on his back, fans whirring with such intensity he can almost feel it rattling his teeth- and they were mostly digital! That’s how bad it was!. The silk is cool against his skin.
“Oh by the by... I assume you didn’t walk through the foyer.” You say, voice muffled and apropos of nothing. Vox doesn’t even think you’re even napping under there, you’re just existing in the best-worst place in all of Hell. Best for you, worse for literally anyone else, he’d figure.
Before he can will himself to form the question, you add, with your delighted tone bordering on exasperated, “You’re getting your Chri- Sinsmas wish. This year.”
Vox’s voice crackles with a sluggish excitement, mechanisms hissing in protest when he wedges himself up onto his elbow. “Is that Velvette’s doing or my genius gift giving skills?”
Your clawed hand creeps out from underneath the blanket, hooks around his wrist- skin hot and damp- your thumb strokes the tendon there as you crawl out from underneath the blanket. Your wings unfurl like black curtains, throwing the blanket off as surely as they throw sharp edged shadows across his screen- the back wall. You shiver mildly, huffing at the sudden chill.
Bathsheba protests crankily as you nudge her a little- her striped tail thumping loudly against the sheets with sleepy rage. Vox vaguely hears the thunk as she hops off the edge of the bed and onto the ground; skittering off to find herself a new spot to nap in where she won’t be constantly disturbed by the peons that shower her in attention and good food.
His attention is stuck on you though, eyes wandering sluggishly up and down your exposed midriff as you stretch, the curve of your breasts hidden by the baggy t-shirt you’ve long since stolen out of his drawer. The sight transforms his irritated frown into a trembling smirk.
“A little of both-” You offer him a lopsided smile. An insanely, stupidly soft expression that twists his insides up, makes his heart squeeze- makes him want to grab you and never let you go anywhere without him ever again.
Your eyes glitter suddenly with mischief as you bend down over him to flick the edge of his screen. Lightly, of course. He exhales sharply, vents crackling with abnormally warm air. “If you’re quite done leering-”
“Never.” Clumsily his warm claws grapple with your waist and while you try to bat them away, you relent with an amused snort. Your hair falls in front of your eyes as you hang your head in mock-defeat, laughing still. The thought that you’re the most perfect thing ever to exist, flits across his mind.
“Okay, okay- but maybe put a pin in it and come see all the decorating I did just for you, hm?”
Vox pretends to contemplate his options, ignoring the warmth spreading across his screen, through his chest, that has nothing to do with his servos working overtime… but ultimately? The lopsided, easy smile that appears on his face gives away just how easy the choice is to make.
“Yeah- yeah okay, that’s something I can do, dove… Lead the way.”
a/n: inspired by my heated blanket being practically my one true love in the winter so I incorporated that into my very, very, very self indulgent fic. 💜
He was the Radio Demon, an overlord of hell, owner of souls, and host of the Hazbin Hotel.
The only evidence that he was ever human was the gold band worn around his ring finger. No one seemed to notice it; if they did, they didn’t dare ask.
Not much was known about the terrifying radio demon. The others at the hotel often wondered about the origins of the great Alastor Altruist.
Well, not until Mimzy comes along.
“Alastooor, Sweetie, doll-face! So good to see you. How’ve ya been? Good? Good.”
Alastor hugs the small woman while everyone stares in confusion.
“Listen, I was in the neighborhood! I heard you were staying at this ritzy ditzy slob factory-”
A glint of gold catches the light.
“Oh! By the way, where’s your little birdy?”
Alastor’s who? The confusion only continued to grow in the room.
“Oh, Mimzy, you know she would never have ended up down here.”
Who are they talking about?
“Ah yes, she was such a kind soul. The best of the best.”
Finally, someone asks.
“Yo! Lady! Who ya talkin' about?”
“His missus, of course!”
His what?
“YOU WERE MARRIED?!”
Alastor’s eye twitched as private information about his life came to light.
“I am married; we never divorced.”
Everyone stared in disbelief. How could anyone marry Alastor, of all people?
Wait-
“You said she would never have ended up down here. Does that mean that your wife is in heaven? Is she an angel?”
“Charlie, don’t be ridiculous! No one that good could have married him!”
Mimzy pipes up,
“She’s right. Y/n Altruist was too good for the world and sang like a canary!”
That she did…
“I fell in love with you the first time I looked into
Them there eyes
You've got a certain little cute way of flirtin' with
Them there eyes”
All eyes gazed upon the stage. His little birdy was much like him in how they entranced others with their voices. If all he heard for the rest of eternity was that beautiful song of hers, then he could die a happy man.
“They make me feel happy
They make me blue
No stallin', I'm fallin'
Going in a great big way for sweet little you”
It was never supposed to last. It was just for a while to make him seem more normal. To hide his less than socially acceptable hobbies. But she was light, and he was a moth to a flame. As he felt the weight of the box in his hand he wondered how someone like him got blessed with someone like her.
“My heart is jumpin', you sure started something with
Them there eyes
You'd better watch them if you're wise
They sparkle, they bubble
They're gonna get you in a whole lot of trouble
You're overworkin' them, there's danger lurkin' in
Them there eyes”
Her eyes brightened as they landed on him sitting at his usual table in the back. He was done with work early and had come to pick her up so they could walk home together.
“I fell in love with you the first time I looked into
Them there eyes
You've got a certain little cute way of flirtin' with
Them there eyes”
HIS. She was his. He was hers. They were each others.
The only proof that Alastor was ever human was the gold band around his ring finger.
summary: Lucifer takes pride in everything he has, especially his wife.
pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x wife!reader
includes: fluff, lucifer being a sweet and attentive husband and father, suggestiveness, possessiveness, that’s pretty much it (let me know if i missed any!)
a/n: okay but like, i am on serious hazbin brain rot, i have written more for HH than any other fandom so far.
Being the embodiment of pride meant that Lucifer constantly flaunted everything to his fellow sins and his people. And being the King of Hell meant he had a lot to brag about. Especially his family. God, Lucifer loved his family and would do anything to talk about them in every conversation.
An overlord meeting about movie productions on VoxFlix? Add romantic comedies, they’re his wife and daughter’s favorite. Speaking with Beelzebub about her different alcoholic beverages? Make sure to make mojitos, they’re his wife and daughter’s favorite.
He took pride in who he married and who his daughter was. After all, they were the royal family of Hell.
“Mom, I think it’s as tight as it can go— MOM!” Charlie’s eyes flashed red as she squealed, grabbing your arm.
“Sorry!” You tilt your head back as you let a laugh fall from your lips. “I thought you said—“
“No no no no noooo!” She turned around, eyes wide. “I think I’m good.”
“I’m sorry, baby.” You kiss her cheek and adjust her crown.
Charlie beamed at you and traded places with you. “My turn!”
You hum as she tightens the corset around you, eyes flickering up toward the mirror when you hear the door creak open. “Hey, handsome.”
“Hi, my love.” He pressed a kiss to your hand and then one to Charlie’s forehead. “Hi, apple pie.” He watched his daughter tug on the strings attached to the corset, moving forward when it seemed like you were going to fall from the platform. “Charlie, what are you doing to your mother?”
“Pulling her corset tight—“ She grunted as she held the string in place, tying the back. “There.” You gave her a thumbs up as she finished, watching her glow at your silent praise.
“Gorgeous as always.” Lucifer stole you from your platform, the devil’s tail wrapping around your waist.
“You know? Vaggie is probably looking for me! I should leave…” Charlie let out an awkward laugh and fled for the door. “Text me when you need me for the entrance!”
Lucifer dipped you down, chuckling when you let out a noise of surprise. “You look breathtaking, my love. Maybe we should just skip the gala and do better activities right here—“
“Lucifer!” You lightly smack his chest, face flushed from his words. “You horny devil!”
“Says the queen of Hell.” He captured you in a quick kiss, red lipstick staining his lips. “Come on, Charlie can handle it on her own.” He squeezed your hips as you walked over to the vanity with his head resting on your bare shoulder.
You glance at your beloved with a soft look, “Luce, we didn’t coordinate a whole gala just to have our daughter host it herself.” You clip on a pair of earrings, the golden snake and apple shining through the light. “We also didn’t have these outfits made for us just for them to be wasted away on our bedroom floor.”
“I mean…” He nipped on your exposed shoulder, earning a gasp and glare. “They made you a maroon dress with a slit exposing your legs, my love.”
“Because it matches your maroon and black suit.” You turn in his arms and tug at his lapels. “Which I have to admit, kinda does it for me.”
He smirked as he slowly pushed you up against the vanity, “Yeah? Maybe we should ditch.”
“Nope.” Your hands clasped behind his neck, eyes widening when you feel one of his hands trail down to your exposed leg. “Luce…”
“You started this.” He slotted himself between your legs and continuously peppered kisses to your collarbone and neck, softly sucking. “You’re a tease.”
“Lucifer—“ Your protests were cut off with a quiet moan, but you quickly covered your mouth when hearing him chuckle. “Nope, we’re leaving now.”
Lucifer separated from you, a wide grin adorning his face as he scanned you. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, “Let’s go then, my love.”
You raised a brow but didn’t protest, letting him wrap his arm around your waist to guide you toward the ballroom. You both were quickly accompanied by your daughter as you made your way to the landing of the grand stairway.
The lights flashed off and the spotlight projected on the Morningstar family, the crowd’s voice hushed when spotting the monarchy. Lucifer gave a welcoming speech to the sinners, overlords, and sins who attended, making sure to mention his family and how they helped make the gala entirely possible. Final rounds of applause echoed through the ballroom as Lucifer finished off, letting everyone go back to their socialization and dancing.
“Mom,” Charlie caught you before you could follow Lucifer to greet his fellow sins. “Did you… Do you know why… You have bruises on your neck.” She finally mumbled out, eyes not meeting yours.
You felt yourself warm from embarrassment. Not only did your daughter tell you that you have hickeys on your neck, but you stood in the blinding lights with an audience staring at the three of you. No doubt photographers caught this and snapped photos for the internet. “Thank you for telling me, baby. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to murder your father.”
“Mom—“
You scanned the room before your gaze zeroed on Lucifer. He was laughing with Asmodeus before meeting your gaze and gave you a wink. Oh, he was going to pay.
“Lucifer.” You appear by his side. You give his fellow sin a quick smile but turn back to the little devil with a scowl. “Can I talk to you?”
“Of course.” He wrapped an arm around your waist. “It was nice catching up with you, Oz.”
You guided Lucifer back to a secluded hallway, eyes flashing bright red when you were alone. Within a blink of an eye, you had Lucifer pinned against the wall with your forearm.
“Do you know how embarrassing it is to know that I went out there with bruises all over my neck? Or, better yet, that our daughter was the one who told me what was on my neck?” You seethed. You were beyond embarrassed and pissed, you’re surprised you haven’t become a full demon yet.
“To be fair, it was more than just your neck—“
“LUCIFER!” You use your free hand to reach up your collarbone. The room felt ten times warmer, and it didn’t help that you felt Lucifer’s devil tail decided to wrap around your calf.
He remained pinned on the wall, giving you a cheeky grin. “This is really hot.”
“Oh, my god!” You release him with a glare. “There’s going to be photos everywhere! What will the public think about—“
“Lucky king?” He shrugged as he let his fingers trail up your waist, pulling you flush against him. “Listen, we’ll get rid of the photos. But is it really a crime to show off what’s mine?”
You grumble a small response, propping your head on his shoulder. “You’re crazy, Luce.”
“I love you too, beautiful.” He chuckled.
The photos never made it outside of Pride Manor, but the teasing you received from the other sins made you flush every time. Lucifer listened to each jeer, a smirk present on his face from the constant reminder that you were in fact his.
Especially when the bruises scattered around you spelled out his initials.
A/N: Originally was specified as male, but kept it out for general audiences to enjoy. This is the first time I did a bulleted list, so I hope I did well.
As a sinner, you already knew you weren’t the best person. In fact, all you could care about was living in the present, instead of fearing the afterlife like a fool.
It took you a while to accept your death, but you eventually shrugged your shoulders.
You started fights, pranks, causes some property damage, and may have ragebaited a few people.
However, sinners recognized you as someone with power and gave you their souls. From then, you became a powerful overlord, one who relished in madness.
So much so that once you heard about the princess’s plan to fight the exorcists, you offered your help as long as you get some kills in. She was a bit disturbed, but the extra help definitely made it worthwhile.
Fast forward, and you were invited to Vox’s rally after hearing he took out Alastor (which you find to be near bs).
Once his musical number was done, that’s when Charlie showed with four other angels who had gift baskets. Although, Vox was doing his “why should we forgive you” speech, you found yourself drawn to the tallest angel there.
She was elegant, graceful, and expressed an aura of dominance. She had this feeling of maturity in her voice that secretly expressed power. It became more apparent when she transformed. You didn’t care if she threatened the sinners, you cared about this goddess-like figure whose beauty shined in the light surrounding her.
In a nutshell, she was fucking hot!
After the rally, you took a visit to the hotel. The princess had reconciled with her girlfriend and was trying to call her dad. You asked her about those angels, and she told about her intentions to convince sinners that Heaven wanted peace now.
She went on about who those angels were exactly, and when you asked about the tall one, Charlie explained that it was Sera who was the high seraphim.
Y/N: Sera. So that’s her name.
Charlie was too focused on calling Lucifer that she didn’t notice your blushing and how you bit your lips.
But everyone else did, which they found both shocking and hilarious.
Hilarious in Cherri’s case.
Insert Vox launching his weapon, leaving you speechless. But also excited, because you’ve never seen Vox this ambitious before. It made you want to see how well he could handle your fist smashing into his face.
Then, Emily shows up thus the plan to defeat Vox begins.
But before you all departed, you asked Emily about this Sera person. She said she’s her sister. Using this connection, you requested to meet Sera after all this is over.
Emily was surprised, but she accepted your request. She thought it was a good way to bring demons and angels closer.
You smiled, ready to meet the other overlords at the party. Sera can wait, you had front rows to the start of a grand climax.
Plus, words can’t describe how much you wanted to start a fight with Vox.
Fingering and oral (reader receiving both), penetration (p in v), smut, reader receives lots of pampering and affection~
A satisfied sigh left you as you slid down into the hot bath until the water came up to your shoulders. You laid your head back on a towel that was resting on the side of the solid stone tub.
This was just what you needed to work out your tense muscles.
You were usually a quick shower type of person. Never really taking the time to allow yourself a little relaxation in a bath tub. But this time around you decided to change things up. Maybe treat yourself a little. After all, Lucifer had this beautiful large stone bathtub that was going to waste. He never really needed to bathe anyways. As the king of hell and an ancient, powerful demon, of course he could just keep himself clean using magic to blink any filth away without thinking.
Unfortunately, you weren't lucky enough to have such powers at your disposal. But even when Lucifer would suggest doing the same to you, you'd always refuse. There was a comfort in letting hot water run over your body. Or submerging yourself in a warm bath. Letting all of the day's stress and grime wash away with some nice smelling body wash.
You let yourself dip lower until the water came up to your chin. You closed your eyes and breathed in the steam from the hot bath. There were no sounds in the room other than the occasional drop from the faucet.
This right here was heaven~
You weren't sure how long you had been sitting like that in the water. You were so lost in your thoughts that you must have lost track of time. It wasn't until you felt something tap against your nose that made your eyes flutter open. Staring back at you were the blank, black eyes of a yellow rubber duck just inches from your face.
A smile formed on your lips and you tapped it's little orange beak with your finger, sending it floating away. No doubt one of Lucifer's creations that he spawned into the bath with you.
Speaking of-
"Mind if I join you?"
The source of that familiar voice came from right beside you. You turned your head where Lucifer was resting his crossed arms on the side of the stone tub and smiling at you with beautiful red eyes. You smiled back at him... also mentally noting that his torso was completely bare. You amused yourself wondering how awkward it would have been if you'd said no.
"I thought you didn't have to bathe." You said.
"I don't... but I was getting lonely," he admitted sheepishly, dipping his fingers into the water to test the temperature. "Do you like it?"
You nodded. "It's great. You should join me."
You didn't have to tell him twice. In a blink, he was no longer beside you. Lucifer appeared in the tub right across from you, fully submerged up to his chest. He smiled at the little rubber ducky that floated past him and then at you.
"This is nice." He said.
"Mhmm," you sighed. "That's why I like to take baths. They're relaxing~"
"Anything I can do to make it even more relaxing for you? Lights? Music? Candles?" He asked, eagerly awaiting to know how he could fulfill any desire you had.
You shook your head. "I don't need all that, hon-"
"Maybe I could rub your shoulders?"
Now that gave you pause. The hot water had made you so relaxed up to this point. A shoulder massage might actually unravel you completely. You nodded and floated over to him. He held you by the shoulders and turned you around. You groaned when his hands started massaging the tense muscles there. If you could melt you probably would have.
His thumbs worked little circles into your skin for a while. Gradually moving down until he was in your middle back. You didn't notice until you felt a certain appendage brush against tour ass just how close you had floated towards him. You were pretty much in his lap at this point. Which wouldn't be a problem...
If his boner wasn't so painfully obvious.
You bit your lip, knowing you should be nice. But where was the fun in that?
"I'm a little tense here, too, sweetie." You reached back and took his hands in yours and lowered them to your hips.
"O-Oh..." You couldn't help but smile at the flustered tone in his voice. He was just too cute sometimes.
Lucifer did as he was told and started massaging you where you placed his hands.
"Mmh... Luci..." you moaned a little sensually on purpose.
You wished you could see the look on his face. No doubt his cheeks were probably dusted with a bright gold as he blushed. His eyes were probably hyperfocused on the area that required his attention and he was shifting uncomfortably where he sat.
Lucifer was far too fun to tease.
Just when you thought he had had enough however, his hands started moving lower. Much to your surprise. They stopped on your thighs, where he continued his massaging.
"Is right here okay, too?" He asked behind you.
You shivered at the feeling of his voice against the back of your neck. "Y-Yeah... that feels good."
And it did... but in another way entirely.
You opened your legs a bit wider, giving him more space to rub you. This was a grave error, as it only led him to start moving into your inner thighs. But still you didn't tell him to stop. His sinful touch felt too good to do such a thing.
Then, as if reading your thoughts, one of his hands boldly dipped between your legs to rub your mound. Just inches away from your now-aching clit.
"And here?"
"Luce..." you breathed. "I think we've ventured beyond just a massage."
"Do you want me to stop?" He asked.
You shook your head. "No."
"That's good to hear," He said innocently. You could hear the smile in his voice. "Because you're really tense here, too~"
"Is that so?" You asked as his fingers slid up and down your slit before plunging between your folds. You gasped when his finger found your clit and he started circling the sensitive bud.
"Mhmm~" He hummed in approval. "Gotta make sure we work out everything."
After another moment or two, Lucifer abandoned your clit to travel further down until he found what he was looking for. He slid a finger inside you, making you moan louder.
"Poor thing, you're so tight~" He cooed into your ear. "We'll have to fix that."
Then his finger was joined by a second. Lucifer thrust the two digits in an out of you, stretching your pussy walls even more as you clung desperately to the side of the tub.
"Lucifer! F-Fuck-!"
"Good girl, I love hearing my name on your lips." He breathed into your ear, gently nibbling at your helix. His sharp teeth making goosebumps appear on your flesh. "I have to hear more~"
Lucifer removed his fingers from you, much to your disappointment, and turned you around so that you were facing him now. After placing a kiss to your lips, he lifted you and sat you down on the ledge of the stone tub. He spread your legs open and marveled at just how sopping you were.
"Fuck, you're wet."
"Yeah, no shit." You snarked, unable to help yourself.
He gently nipped at your inner thigh, making you squeak.
"You know what I mean, darling." He chuckled. "You look delicious~"
You swallowed as his hungry eyes looked up and down your aching pussy.
"All mine to taste~"
Lucifer made a meal of you. Greedily devouring your cunt as if he's never tasted anything as divine. He made a noise that sounded like a mix between a moan and a growl, thankful to finally have his hunger satisfied. His forked tongue flicked and swirled around your clit, only occasionally stopping to suckle gently on the sensitive bud.
"Oh, Luci!" you moaned, white-knuckling the side of the tub. "Fuck!"
His hands gripped your thighs to hold you in place, not letting you tear this little piece of heaven away from him.
"I'm gonna cum, baby- I-I'm gonna-!" You cried out when you finally tipped over the edge. You pushed your hips against his face, urging his sweet tongue to help you ride out your orgasm until it was too much to bear. Lucifer's tongue snaked down to your entrance, plunging inside to fully drink every last drop of you as you came in his mouth.
"Lucifer!" You cried as the pleasure was soon replaced with overstimulation. Your orgasm had finally subsided and your body shook violently as he continued to drink you down.
Thankfully, he granted you mercy by pulling away from you and standing in the tub, finally giving you a good view of his throbbing erection. He took your hand in his to lift you but your legs protested.
"Let me help you, my darling." He said, lifting you up effortlessly by your ass. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his hips, locking your ankles behind him.
Lucifer kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. When you separated, he met your eyes with his own sex-drunk gaze.
"I love you... and I could spend all night devouring you," Lucifer said breathlessly. "But I need to feel you, my angel."
"Please." You begged, knowing exactly what he meant.
Lucifer didn't waste any time. He pressed his cock to your entrance and. With your permission, thrust into you. Your pussy tightened around him at the sudden entry. But you soon relaxed so that he could start rocking his hips, thrusting in and out of you at a slow pace.
However, it wasn't long until he had you up against the tile wall, desperately bucking into you while you clung to him for dear life. Lucifer held you at the perfect angle. Hitting you deep and hard, exactly how you liked it, making every thrust more delicious than the last.
"F-Fuck-" He growled into your shoulder. "You feel so fucking good-!"
You gripped his hair in one hand and dug your nails into his back with the other. Speech failed you as you were reduced to mere whimpers and moans as he pounded into you, shaking the tub beneath you. By how hard he was pounding into you, it felt like he was probably going to fuck you through this tile wall and you'd be just fine with that.
"I love you-! Fuck- I love you so much!" He shuddered as he felt himself getting ever closer to his own orgasm. He tightened his grip on your hips and quickened his pace. "IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou!"
Craning your neck, you captured his lips in a hot, messy kiss as he finally reached his own nirvana. He moaned into your mouth, filling your lungs with his pleasure as he filled you to the brim with his hot seed. His entire body shook as he milked out every last drop he had into you. Until he was finally spent and panting.
But he wasn't in a hurry to leave you yet.
You both took a minute to catch your breaths. He laid his forehead against your shoulder as he held you to him. You laid your head on top of his and you ran your fingers through his hair.
Once he found enough strength to move again, he brought you both down into the comfort of the warm water. Lucifer released you, much to your disappointment.
"We might need to run a new bath." Lucifer said with a nervous chuckle. "I think we've ruined this one."
You smiled. That was a bit of an understatement. Most of the water was no longer in the tub and whatever cleaning supplies you had brought in here with you was now strewn across the bathroom floor. Even your poor rubber ducky friend laid abandoned beside the tub.
"I think," You gave a chaste kiss to Lucifer's lips. "You should join me for baths more often."
"As long as I get to pamper my queen. I'd love that~" He said, cupping your cheek in his hand and returning your kiss with a deeper and longer one.
