Chapter Text
The imposing overlord had seen more than enough. His watchful eyes were not blind to the mysterious figure that would enter your home practically every single day— the few times it’d show up on camera, it would glitch out and make the form of the figure unable to see. An effect only powerful overlords are able to do.
It’d taken a while to come to the conclusion, but Vox was sure an overlord was helping you. But it didn’t seem logical; you were a pathetic lowlife sinner, and it’s not like your economical situation in regards to your home has changed. It’s stayed the same dump it always has been.
But the help of an overlord would explain the large quantity of money you gave him out of nowhere. Money you were in no way capable of getting on your own.
It was all stressful— and this was heavily damaging his plans on revenge. Could he take the risk and attack you, hoping he doesn’t anger an overlord in the process? He was powerful, that much was true, but he couldn’t afford a pointless fight over a stupid sinner like you.
Or, well, that’s what he tried telling himself.
“You want that girl gone,” Valentino teases as the three of them sit in the conference room. “I haven’t seen you this angry since a while.” A meeting had been held about some pointless topic none of them cared about which eventually spiraled into the topic of you. Vox slams his fists onto the desk, scoffing.
“Of course I do.” Vox replies in frustration, tapping the table with a clawed finger. “She f*cking humiliated me. Can you believe it?” The last few words are quiet, as if it’s still something he can’t come to terms with. “Shove the money like I’m some nobody. I’m pathetic if I can’t deal with someone who disrespects me like that.”
Vox’s fraudulent nonchalant act was hardly ever fiddled with. Nothing ever angered him to the point where he needed to be so open about his anger. Valentino and Velvette are openly amused, but equally as intrigued about the whole situation.
“You really think an overlord is helping her?” Velvette jumps into the conversation, though dismissively stares at her phone. “Doesn’t seem plausible. What does she have to offer?”
Valentino let’s out a laugh. “What can you offer in hell? Your body, of course. She’s having sex with an overlord.”
“It’s just a theory.” Vox adds, attempting to ease himself down. “Maybe I’m just acting paranoid. Could be some.. random friend.”
“Random friend that visits her everyday.” Valentino repeats the words back to him with a clear mocking tone, picking up a gun. “Come on, baby. We’re the Vee’s, for f*ck sake. Even if it is an overlord, you think we can’t handle one flimsy sinner who’s low enough to be paying a sinner for a quick f*ck?” Those words motivate Vox a little further and pull him out of the fear-hole he’d hug himself into, breaking into a smile. Velvette nods in agreement.
The Vee’s were not ones to be trifled with. That was a point they had to make clear, even if it meant executing some weak pathetic sinner who’s death would not make any difference in Hell. Whoever this overlord was, had to know you were in tumult with the Vee’s.
So really, they have it coming.
“You’re powerful,” Valentino practically growls now, further praising Vox. “And you’re a smart hunk. You’ll figure something out.”
Vox praises Valentino’s words of encouragement and forces himself to stand up, already imagining the plans in his head and how he’d go about making you and that alleged overlord pay. It seemed downright pathetic how excited he was over mere revenge, but he hadn’t had this much fun in ages. The anger had turned into unfiltered glee.
He’d crush you under the heel of his foot— put you as an example for any other filth who’d dare cross him. And the overlord would be a flashing warning sign for the rest of the powerful beings in hell; a 2 in one package to further his reputation and ego.
In your last moments of life, he’d be sure to thank you.
—
It felt like you were a stupid kid with a crush again. You laid in your bed and kicked your feet mindlessly, needing to shove your face against your pillow every few seconds to contain your excitement. Time felt eternally slow any time you and Lucifer would make plans.
As it was exciting, it felt equally scary. It was easy to forget the demon you’ve been so buddy-buddy with was the king of hell, the infamous fallen angel and the richest being on Hell. Despite being whatever the hell the two of you were for a while, the thought of him being so powerful always shocked you.
What’d you do to deserve this? To be the chosen one, a needle in a haystack, given the reward of the devil’s kindness. Was it a gift that’d turn into a punishment? Would you be sent to double-hell for mingling with the devil?
The last thoughts a joke, but everything else really was pondering on your mind. It seemed heavenly now, the blush on your face and the warmth in your heart at the mere thought of the bumbling demon. But there was a striking difference between having crushes neither of you acted upon and legitimately starting a relationship.
He was a king, and you were a nobody.
Lucifer had stated he didn’t care about the people’s perceptions of him, but you sure as hell did. You knew the demons of this place far too well and how they’d react at the knowledge of their ruler associating in such an intimate manner with a lowlife sinner. The thought had stalled your glee and turned into worry, before remembering neither of you were even anything yet.
The universe was unpredictable and you couldn’t make haste with plans and what-if’s.
Your eyes dart towards the frames on the table of your bedroom, the same ones you’d shown Lucifer a while back. The frame that was the first piece of vulnerability you’d shown him, a fragment of your soul for him to inspect and analyze. Piece by piece, you were handing him your heart. Unbeknownst to you, he was doing the same.
Your thoughts are interrupted by the familiar sound of the window knocking, your eyes practically perking up and your body picking itself up in an instant. You run towards the living room and find him in his bird form sitting outside the window, watching as you walked over and opened it for him.
“No more breaking it, huh?” You lightheartedly leer, taking a step back so he transforms. He does so with a little shake, stretching his limbs and practically hissing.
“I’ll go broke trying to repair your window if I keep doing that,” he smiles nervously, holding his cane. “Considering I’ll be visiting you for a while.”
A promise of continuity. A small hint he won’t leave you for a while, if ever. It’s enough to make you fluster.
The two of you sit down on the rundown couch and you notice a peculiar expression on his face, as if he’s irking to tell you something. When you inquire, he immediately opens up with a smile and near-teary eyes.
“I got motivated to text my daughter,” the devil says as he pulls out his phone, eagerly showing you the text messages with his daughter like a proud father. You lean in and read the messages. Admittingly, it was a conversation that didn’t seem to last more than 2 minutes, the chat being the sort of casual small talk you’d have with a stranger. How are you. Where are you. How’s your day.
Despite that, he’s evidently proud of himself. You smile and clap your hands. “See! You’re making progress. Small steps along the way, right?”
Lucifer nods and put his phone down, taking a deep breath and leaning against the couch. “She didn’t seem too excited to speak with me. But that’s.. fine, anything is better than nothing.”
“Of course.” You agree and clasp your hands together, matching him and leaning back against the couch. “This’ll lead up to an eventual call, and then a meet up.”
The ruler smiles at the thought. His features shined even brighter when he was happy, and it’s as if your mind had never seen him before. You find yourself admiring him for the millionth time. The devil you’d only dismissively found attractive each time you’d see him in a magazine a few months ago was now one you found yourself staring at with raw fascination and endearment. The silky smooth pale skin of his, the scarlet pupils full of gentle tenderness.
“You’re staring.” He shyly points out, unable to meet your gaze. His words snap you out of your trance of admiration, brushing a hair behind your ear and laughing in response. Lucifer’s eyes stay glued to his lap as he speaks. “You look at me with such kindness. I haven’t been viewed in such a way for a while.”
“Do you dislike it?”
“No,” he admits, looking at you at last. “You make me feel like I’m not entirely evil. To be viewed so gently, rather than with fear or lust. Gives me hope.”
Lucifer loathed the fact that the two of you needed to be secretive, per your request. How badly the ruler wanted to pick you up and fly to the middle of Pentagram City, flaunt you and scream at the top of his lungs how badly he yearned for you. How terribly he needed to be with you anywhere but his miserable palace and your all-too familiar apartment.
He wanted to take you to the entirety of Hell, from the deepest ring to the heavens themselves.
Perhaps, if ever, he could one day do that.
“I was thinking about you.” The confession is sudden, said with a soft smile. “I feel really silly. We’re being silly.”
“Silly’s an understatement for what we’re doing.” Lucifer quips, fiddling his gloves fingers. “But we’ve gone far past the point of caring.”
There’s a comfortable silence then, neither of you feeling the urge to drag the conversation on or make any more jokes. You sit side by side and occasionally sneak glances at one another, a long 3 minutes passing until your eyes lock once more. Lucifer’s striking eyes flash down at your lips, a split-second action that catches your attention immediately.
Have to stop myself before I kiss her and take it any further. Lucifer acknowledges, clearing his throat and standing up. You feel disappointed.
“There’s a corner shop not too far away, I was thinking we buy some snacks and watch something.” He offers awkwardly, puckering his lips after and looking at the side as it afraid you’d reject his offer. One cuddle session and multiple kisses later, he’s still somehow afraid and insecure you don’t like him or want to spend time with him. The thought makes you awe.
“That’d be fun,” you acknowledge, grabbing your wallet from the coffee table. “Could you bring me some paper towels while you’re there?” Lucifer wants to audibly scold you for even thinking of offering to pay. He shakes his head and puts his palm up, denying your money. He wanted to pay.
You knew arguing about it was pointless with a devil as stubborn as Lucifer. You sigh in defeat and nod, though quickly come up with a solution. “If we ever go out somewhere, I’ll pay then. You’ve given me too much.”
He bares his teeth in a childish toothy smile, pointing his apple cane at you as he prepares to leave. “It’s never too much.”
Lucifer goofingly and nervously waves goodbye as he summons a cloak out of no where before leaping out the window, leaving you to wonder why he couldn’t just have left through the front door normally. It was Lucifer’s silliness that had enthralled you the most, such a drastic difference in personality from what you’d expect of the devil himself. He’d barely changed from the first time you saw him at your job, a constant awkward, nervous mess.
But he seemed happier now. Brighter. More open. That made you happy. More than happy, even. It gave you hope that he was able to recover without the use of your powers. A glimmer of hope at the end of a tunnel the two of you were walking through, hands held with blindfolded eyes merely hoping for the best.
Despite the business deal sprouting into something much more intense now, the end goal was still clear.
Make Lucifer happy. Truly, truly happy— without a hints of anxiety or depression. It seemed impossible, but you were willing to go through hell and back if it meant achieving it. He saved your life once, and you’d repay him with that much.
It seems odd to find Lucifer back only 10 minutes after he’d left. The corner shop was close but it wasn’t that close, and you find it even weirder than he was knocking on the door and not the window. Despite your suspicions you stand up and stroll towards the door, reluctantly opening it.
There was a reason instincts and logic were to be trusted. In front of you was not Lucifer Morningstar— he was anything but that gentlehearted devil.
It was a shark. A shark wearing a Voxtek employee watch. You can feel your blood run cold, eyes widening in an instant and your body freezing. An aggravating deep laugh snaps you out of your state, recognizing it as Vox’s. It was coming through the watch, forming a hologram. He says your name with enough malice that it makes you want to vomit from fear alone.
“It’s great to see you again.” The sarcasm oozes out of his tongue, raising his arms as if to hug you. The hologram couldn’t touch you, but the massive shark demon very well could. “I must say, it took a while to muster up the courage to deal with you once and for all. That overlord sex buddy of yours had me second guessing.”
Overlord?
Before you can even question what he’s saying, the shark forms a fist and punches you straight in the gut, using his feet to swoop your legs and cause you to fall. The hologram of Vox stands tall above you now, and it’s somehow more menacing than the shark himself. The overlords hands stay interlocked behind his back.
“I’d enjoy nothing more than to watch this fellow beat you to a bloody pulp, but the crime of humiliating me deserves a far more gruesome fate, don’t you think?” He sighs, speaking with such nonchalance.
Another kick is given, this time on your back, causing you to audibly scream. Any attempt at biting the shark was pointless when your bones were being broken to dust.
“You deserve torture,” Vox adds, and the shark leans down to claw your arm and back. Blood oozes out and the screams intensify. “A slow, horrible pain. But I’d say I’m a merciful soul.”
The pain is momentarily overtaken by confusion.
“I’ll pardon you in a way that’ll exempt you from that vile, painful death. I want you to come here willingly and apologize on your hands and knees. To plead with me for mercy and the sweet relief of a quick painless death. You can do that much, right?”
He drawls on the word ‘right’, your body receiving a kick to the head, the landing blow that smacks your senses out. Vox whistles in disappointment, shaking his head.
“I expect you here before midnight. If I don’t see you by then, I’ll burn your apartment down with you still in it. By the time you’ve felt the pain of the burns being inflicted on your body and have regenerated, I’d have melted a holy spear and turned it into a carving knife. I’m sure you can imagine what’ll come.”
The shark cracks his fingers, a cue he’s done beating you to a bloody pulp. It would take hours to regenerate enough to be able to walk, so really, you only had an hour to get to Vox. The kick to the head had made you unable to properly speak, looking up at the Vox hologram with teary eyes. He seemingly waited, noticing you wanted to say something.
“Take—“ you huffed, taking a deep breath, your head swaying. “Take me away. He can’t see me.”
It was said in a matter of a second, a quick and hurried last plead. Vox’s suspicion was right. You were indeed seeing someone, and you didn’t want that certain someone to see you in this state. Vox bursts into laughter, slapping his knee as if your request was the funniest thing in the world. “Your little friend will go down with you, dear. I have different plans for that buddy of yours. I’m sure he’ll come like a raging white knight in armor.”
Vox’s perception of what was going to happen was far different from yours. You weren’t afraid of dying or Lucifer dying. You were afraid of what Lucifer was going to do.
Reveal himself to Vox. Put his reputation in jeopardy just to save you. Your foolish, egotistical decision to mock Vox was going to cost the both of you a hefty price. The hologram of Vox disappears and the shark says nothing while leaving, keeping you on the ground as you hugged your knees and squeezed your eyes shut.
This wouldn’t of happened if I wasn’t so weak.
It doesn’t take long for Lucifer to come back after that. He knew something was wrong when he noticed the door to your apartment was wide open, his eyebrows furrowing in sheer horror when he saw the sight before him. Your body curled, covered in bruises and claw marks head to toe. That small absence from you had been enough for your attacker.
“f*ck!” He practically throws himself next to you, muttering curses as he analyzes the wounds on your body. He quickly remembers the first aid kit in your kitchen, using his powers to bring it towards him and near clawing it open.
The wounds are fresh. This had happened minutes ago. The house remained untouched, meaning this wasn’t a robbery or anything of the sort. The realization let’s him know who had done this.
Your attempt at staying conscious had failed, passing out when you attempted to speak out loud to beg Lucifer not to do anything in retaliation. Your regeneration is abnormally quick which relieves Lucifer, but his anger wasn’t quenched. He lays your body on your bed and covers the bruises in ice packs, making sure to bandage the cuts well and lock the door to your room with a lock he’d summoned himself.
Lucifer was beyond mad— he was enraged. But he knew he had to go about this in a way that was wise. He attempted to recollect himself outside of your apartment complex, taking deep breaths. He wasn’t wearing his cloak, being spotted almost immediately but paying no mind to the attention.
He couldn’t kill Vox. His capabilities allowed him to do that and much more, but to cause turf wars over his death would only anger you even more. He knew what he needed to do. A mere glance at the faraway tower is all he needs, the devil being embedded in a crimson liquid which had quickly summoned him in front of the tower itself. His presence spooks the onlookers, urging him to quickly enter the tower before attracting any more attention.
The secretary of the place bumbles on about a topic Lucifer could not hear. His ears were ringing and his heart was thumping, his fist clenched hard enough to where his nails were digging into his fists hard enough to nearly bleed. He wanted to burn this place down. To engulf it into flames. The tacky wall decoration and posters with the TV’s face plastered all over them didn’t help.
After what seemed like an eternity of mindlessly nodding to the nonsense the secretary was saying, he requests an immediate meeting with Vox. Or he thinks he requested. His mind is too preoccupied with the sight of your bleeding body to pay any mind to the current situation.
I haven’t felt that much fear and horror in ages. Lucifer’s face is blank as he follows the secretary, seemingly to wherever Vox was at, passing by even more posters that made him want to speed up the extermination date.
It doesn’t hit him he’s in front of the overlord until he hears that aggravating professional tone of voice, kicking the secretary out. He forces himself to immerse back into the situation, analyzing the place he was in. A dark blue conference room with a massive aquarium that contained fishes and sharks.
Lucifers face is monotone, his lips in a straight line as he holds his apple cane. Heavily contrasting his usual demeanor, the ruler does not reveal his personality in front of legitimate foes.
“This is quite sudden, your majesty.” the TV spouts out, making his way towards Lucifer. The ‘majesty’ reeked of mockery, but the king could tell Vox was nervous. “But it’s a pleasure to meet you at last.”
“Right,” Lucifer replied in a monotone voice, his anger only showing in the form of his fists tightly gripping his cane. He scans the place as if hardly amused, watching as the overlord strolled towards him with an attitude no regular sinner would have. He reeked of confidence and pride. “I suppose there’s no need to stretch this out longer than it needs to be.”
Before Vox could comprehend what had even happened, the ruler vanishes from sight for a split second, appearing directly in front of him. The eyes of Lucifer spoke nothing but malice and hostility. Whatever he was here for, it wasn’t for anything good.
“Lucifer—“ Vox attempts to back away, stopped by Lucifer pointing the end of his cane directly at his throat. He raises his hands as if to admit defeat, the ego slowly melting into fear.
“I know you’re influential. You and your band of goons. But there’s only so much power a mere sinner can hold in Hell.” Lucifer practically whispers, tilting his head. “The disappearance of you and your little friends would not be questioned if known it was in the hands of me.”
A lie. It’d cause momentary chaos, but Vox didn’t know that.
“What the hell is your issue?” Vox questions at last. “What do you want? What could you possibly need from me?”
“Nothing,” Lucifer takes his cane back and rolls his eyes, acting as if he hadn’t threatened Vox seconds prior. “All but one thing.” Lucifer says your name, and the situation unravels itself in Vox’s mind. The figure that had been visiting you every day was not an Overlord, nor a Goetia, or a Sin.
It was Lucifer Morningstar. The ruler of Hell.
Vox felt as if he was having a nightmarish fever dream. He’d angered the king of Hell, something he’s been avoiding in doing from the moment he gained influence in Hell. The overlord gulped nervously, the gears turning in his head as he thought of what to say. Lucifer gives him no time to talk back.
“I need her alive for matters that don’t concern you,” Lucifer answers the question Vox didn’t want to ask. “And it’d be a real hassle if she wound up dead. So, here’s the deal.”
There was a certain growl in Lucifer’s voice that made Vox want to cower. Despite his evident fear, he stood his ground, only listening to the rulers words.
“You stop messing with her. No more pathetic goons coming after her, no more threats and no more watchful eyes.”
As if on cue, the cameras in the room burst into flames at the snap of a finger. The sound of the buildings fire alarm had informed him all of the cameras in the building had been engulfed in flames, getting rid of any footage he’d managed to catch of Lucifer’s words or presence.
“She does not exist to you. Not anymore. If you manage to do that, I won’t eliminate you.”
Vox nervously scoffed. “Y-you’re seriously doing this over some lowlife sinner?”
“I could ask you the same question.”
That quickly shuts Vox up.
Lucifer let’s out a playful whistle and turns his heel, spinning his cane around as if the entire situation was some morbid joke. His anger had turned into glee at the attainment of managing to control his anger enough to not murder Vox immediately. He looks over at the window, admiring the sight for a moment. “I can’t say it was a pleasure speaking with you, but I’d take my request seriously.”
The seriousness turns into downright silliness, wiggling his slender fingers as a goodbye before using his other hand to break the window open, ready to throw himself off the building.
“Bye!”
On par with Vox’s wrath, every single chair in the conference room is promptly broken. No camera footage to use as blackmail.
—
By the time Lucifer had come back, your wounds were already half-way regenerated, though you were still unable to properly walk. Your eyes were covered in tears, not from the pain but from the thought of Lucifer worsening his reputation over you. Of him killing Vox and causing turf wars.
Any worry vanishes when you see he comes back clean of any blood, nothing indicated he’d fought or killed Vox. He enters the room with a reassured face, noticing your wounds were rapidly regenerating. A fresh bite wound on your arm indicated you’d most likely used your power to relieve your pain.
“Lucifer.” You breath out, attempting to sit up but being stopped by a sharp pain. He settles you back down and warns not to try and move much, holding your hand tightly.
“You’re okay, you’re okay.” Lucifer whispers praise and reassurance, using his thumb to swipe some of the tears away. “You feeling okay? The wounds regenerating fine?”
His voice makes you want to burst into tears. He’s so gentle. So kind.
“What did you do?” Is the first thing you ask.
“Nothing that would anger you,” he replies, sitting on the bed. “I made sure he couldn’t blackmail us.” Us. “He’s gotten the hint, I’m sure. He won’t bother you anymore.”
With a sniffle, you cover your face in shame. “You’ve done far too much for me. I must be a bother. You give me money and you give me safety, I feel like some sort of leech.” The humiliation of being seen as a weakling who needs protection from the king of hell is unbearable, even if that’s the reason you got acquainted with him in the first place.
Lucifer frowns, putting his hat aside. “Please, don’t say that. You make it sound like I don’t do this willingly. I want to help you. I’m glad I’ve gotten him out of your shoes.”
“Did you, though?” you quietly scoff at his words, glancing away. “You don’t know Vox. He’s evil— and downright smart. He’ll figure out a way to turn things around. He always does. I should’ve been left for dead. You should’ve never saved me, Lucifer. All I’ve been doing is taking from you. Taking your money and your ability to form happiness without the use of some supernatural f*cking powers. I’m a horrible person. I’m ruining you.”
The devil clenches his fists and jaw, trying to think of what to say. After a few moments of silence, his gloved hand reaches for the top of your head, putting one of your stray hair strands behind your ear with a look of softness. Your eyes are locked now.
“It took a lot of strength not to rip him apart right then and there, you know. If it was me a few months ago, I would’ve undoubtedly beat him to death without care of the consequences that would come after. You’ve helped me in ways your power cannot do. You’ve saved my life. The pain caused by my wife’s disappearance no longer feels like a gruesome stab to the chest— you’re helping me. And I wanted to help you.”
“But—“
He promptly silences you with his lips crashing against yours, gentle and reluctant, afraid you’d somehow reject him despite having kissed him before. It’s a kiss that lasts nothing more than a few seconds, followed by his heavy breaths.
“I like you.” He says your name. “I really, really like you. Not because of your power or because of anything else that isn’t pure intentioned. You’ve shown me that not all hope is lost in Hell— that I have something, someone, to look forward to; to motivate me to keep on living. To better myself and my bond with my daughter.”
He smiles now, still holding your hands.
“And for that I owe you an inmeasurable debt. I’d do what I did a million times over.”
There’s nothing you can say after that. Nothing seems wise to say, and there’s no point in scolding him further when you’re truthfully grateful for what he did. The fear of Vox and his anger had been mildly lifted from your shoulders, allowing you to breathe.
“You’ve allowed yourself to be pushed around for far too long,” Lucifer states as he stands back up, heading for the door. “There’s no need for that. You‘ve stricken the ruler of Hell in the heart and put him in a debt he cannot repay for as long as this place exists. Could I ever let you go or leave you to die?” He chuckles nervously at the thought, leaning against the wall near the door.
“What does any of that mean?” You point out the unusual ramble, causing him to furrow his brows and smirk.
“The king does as he pleases.” He forces a mocking deep voice, mimicking a royal before going back to normal. “And right now, I just want to keep you safe. Allow me to do that much.”
He was asking if he could protect you like some sort of dog. You want to protest, to tell him that neither of you are dating, that he’s not obligated to jeopardize his reputation over you. But his face tells you he has no plans to back down.
“You’re willing to protect me.” You echo his statement, looking at your lap. “We’ll see about that.”
—
Once your wounds are regenerated enough for you to be able to walk, Lucifer promptly offers to take you to his palace to rest, an offer you quickly deny. He informs you he can’t let you stay in your apartment right after threatening an overlord. Your request is ignored and the devil opens a portal, gently shoving you inside and landing your body in what seemed to be one of the many places in the palace.
“I’ll make it up to you.” Lucifer grins awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. Your frustration is quenched by the feeling of the far larger and softer bed in the room you were currently in.
Lucifer glances at the scratch marks still fresh on your body, hissing at the sight. “The bandages haven’t done much. Have you cleaned the one on your back?”
“Can’t reach.” You shrug your shoulders, attempting to brush off the pain. “I’ll be fine.”
“No, you won’t.”
He gives you no time to question what he’s doing, crawling onto the bed and slithering behind you, raising your shirt just enough to reveal the claw mark slashed right across the entirety of your back. The poorly applied bandages hadn’t done anything to benefit the healing of the wound (courtesy of his lack of knowledge when it comes to healing and anything of the sort.)
“Can’t leave you like this,” he mumbles, summoning a warm wet towel out of nowhere and pressing it against your wound. You yelp and jolt in pain, snapping your head back to look at him.
“What are you doing?”
“Helping.”
The second time he presses it feels far more relaxing, the warm towel easing your muscles and soaking up the blood that’d stained your back. He uses one hand to lift your shirt, the other to hold the towel. You can feel your face fluster, his body so close to yours.
“You’re doing good.” He whispers encouragement, and through his voice you can recognize he’s smiling. Cute.
A few minutes pass, and you feel the sporadic urge to have him hold you. No longer a wanting request influenced by alcohol, but something you full heartedly want. Shamelessly so, you find yourself leaning against him further, right until your back is directly pressed against his torso. He raises his arms in a cartoonish manner, as if afraid to touch you.
“Can you clean my arm as well?” You shyly ask, despite the bold act. He visibly gulps before nodding his head, using his strength to gently move your head so it’s resting on his shoulder, your bodies so close to the point where you could hear his neck pulse. His legs are spread out, allowing you to comfortably sit in between, presenting your arm to him.
At first, he cleans it— gently, slowly, all whilst muttering how he’d tear apart whoever had done this. Though after a few minutes and countless hints you’ve been giving later, he drops the towel all together and simply wraps his arms around you.
His gloved hands rest directly above your lower stomach, his head resting on the back of your neck as he takes in the warmth of your body. This was far more healing than whatever a warm towel could do.
He purrs your name, causing your spine to tingle.
“Lucifer.” You reciprocate. “You’re warm.”
You can tell he’s nervous. His hands are slightly trembling and his eyebrows are furrowed. If anything, it comforts you. To know he isn’t some burly brute without care of your comfort. He’s scared, just are you are.
Last time we sat on a bed together, it didn’t end so.” You quietly joke.
“This won’t end that way unless you want it.”
Unusually bold. You turn your head and look up, just enough to have your lips inches away from his jawline. He clenches it, his gaze unable to stay on you, looking at the wall timidly. His focus is rewired when he feels you kiss it, taking a deep breath and feeling his heart race.
“We’ll do things a little differently.” You voiced through a smile, abruptly sitting up and pinning the devil down against the mattress. He’s visibly shocked, crimson pupils shrinking and his eyelids wide open. You’re straddling him now, looking at him with a look that could only be described as enamor.
Through awkward toothy smiles, he manages to muster up what he considered dirty talk, though it enters and exits through your ears before you could even process what he’d said, distracted by the mesmerizing sight before you.
Straddling the king of hell was a view that needed to be properly taken in; undoubtedly.
It’s interrupted by the feeling of something poking you from underneath, quickly recognizing Lucifer had gotten hard from the reddening color on his face. He covers it in shame, but is reassured when he hears you giggle.
“You’re too cute, Luci.”
Lucifer watches as you scoot down enough to be able to view his hard-on, aching through his tight suit-pants, begging to be released. But both of you knew that was for another time. The ruler let’s out an audible whine when he feels you grind yourself against him, his body shivering in the strike of pleasure.
“You’re leaking through the pants,” you point out, furthering his blush. When you attempt to grind yourself again, your body is stopped by the feeling of a sudden pain, remembering your body was yet to be recovered. The sudden hiss alarms Lucifer, sitting up in an instant and asking if you were okay.
“There’s no need to do this if your body isn’t physically well.” Lucifer attempts to put your mind at rest, but you’re dead-set on making him feel good. He observes as you crawl towards the bed frame, laying back down.
“You can do it.”
If Lucifer could explode right now, he would. He frantically shakes his arms and head, unable to fathom how you’d ever be able to enjoy that. It was something that would only bring him pleasure, and what was enjoyable about that?
“Nooooo way!” He laughs, letting out an exasperated inhale. “No, no no way. How will you like that? It’s just—“ he shies from describing it. “It’s just me rubbing myself on you. There’s no pleasure for you involved.”
His face twists into confusion when he sees you chuckle. “You really do underestimate how much I like you if you think I won’t gain pleasure from that. But if you don’t want to do it, that’s fine too.”
Lucifer, of course, wanted to do it. There wasn’t anything more he desired right now. He wanted to feel you, even if it was through layers of clothing. He fidgets with his fingers nervously, eyes frantically scanning around the room before eventually setting in between your legs.
He didn’t want to do it.
He needed to do it. Desperately.
A sigh of relief washes upon you when he crawls closer, his hard-on throbbing when he sees you open your legs, revealing how much you actually were enjoying all this. Similarly to him, you’d soaked through your panties and bottoms.
It takes a while for him to find a proper position, but eventually figures it out, his covered co*ck lined up with you as he uses his arms to spread your legs apart. Bodies connected, clothing being the only thing separating the both of you.
“Do it,” you plead with a whisper, seeing just how big he was through his pants. Height clearly had nothing to do with size. After a few seconds of simply staying there, he manages to move. Both of you melt in pleasure almost instantly, your moans muffled by his louder groans.
His leaking tip presses against your entrance, the devil imagining just how good you feel without all the clothes on. He humps again, raising his hips upwards and throwing his head back. Your hands grip the pillow next to your head, attempting to bite back any further moans but miserably failing.
“This feels amazing,” he shamelessly admits, his speed quickening. “Oh, f*ck.”
He goes from kneeling in front of you to looming on top of you, desperately dryhumping you as his face rested in the crook of your neck. Your legs wrap around his waist, wanting to feel him closer and deeper.
You can feel your org*sm sneaking already, building up inside your core and worsened by the sounds of Lucifer’s pleasure. You knew he was a loud devil, but this was a whole different level of what you expected. Whines, moans and groans were all you could hear, and the occasional praise.
Your finish unfolds when you feel him bite your neck, loudly screaming his name out as you came. He followed seconds after, bucking his hips needily one last time and finishing through his pants. His seed manages to leak through the white pants, though you’re only able to feel it— he’d practically collapsed on top of you, huffing in your ear and still lapping up the small amount of blood caused by his gentle bite.
Another idea pops into your head. An emotion you’ve only inflicted on yourself with your power once before— pleasure.
Lucifer let’s out a sharp gasp at the sudden feeling slither inside his body, like a lighting bolt struck down his spine and into his co*ck. His mouth remains wide open and he practically freezes in place, only letting out milliseconds of moans.
“What—“ he whines, pulling his head back. “What did you do?”
“Used my powers.”
The pleasure is intensified when he feels your hand grab his clothed hard-on, feeling it through his pants and watching his face contort into intense rapture. The last time you used your power on yourself like this you’d completely passed out without even touching yourself, that being your current goal.
“Just lay down,” you softly speak, pushing him enough to lay him on his side, directly next to you. His chin trembles as you continuously stroke him, your thumb circling around his tip and feeling his cum.
“I feel amazing,” his voice cracks, as if wanting to cry. “f*ck.”
In no way jerking off could replicate something like this. Even sex seemed like it’d barely beat the pleasure he was feeling right now. He could feel his eyelids become heavy the more you caress him, the last thing he feels being his second climax before drifting into sleep.
Satisfied and happy, you grab the nearby blanket and tuck him into bed, settling back next to him as your body faced him. He was beautiful even during sleep. The pain that came from your near-death had completely vanished now, overshadowed by glee.
“Goodnight, Luci.”
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