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written-in-flowers · 4 months ago

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Her Soldier: Demon!San x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Incubi!San x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff, smut, angst MINOR DNI

Word Count: 14k

Summary: Injured during a mission to protect Lucifer's child, San begins to doubt his dreams of having his own someday. It's only your comfort that convinces him it's not all pointless.

Tags: polyamorous relationship (m/m/m/f) bisexual!demonline, graphic depictions of violence, serious injuries, scenes of child birth/child labor, blood, blood and violence, angels vs demons, religious imagery, underage storylines, mentions/allusions to underage violence, implied child neglect/abuse, crime, mentions of childbirth death and complications, fluffy vanilla sex this time, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, breeding kink, breeding.

Pretty Lady Masterlist

Previously on Pretty Lady

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***

He’d never seen anything like it before. The young woman laid on the stone table in the torch lit room, sweat gleaming on her body and blood oozing from her legs. Dark hairs sticking to her forehead, her face squeezed tight as she made attempts to push the child from her. Women wearing black cloaks stood around her, dabbing cold cloths on her forehead and encouraging her to breathe between pushes. One sat at the edge between her legs, gloves on her knobbly hands as she urged the woman to keep going. Around the room, monks in crimson cloaks held black candles. Her cries drowned out their low chanting, an incantation to welcome the new babe into the world. San couldn’t keep his eyes off the mother. She looked so young. She couldn’t be any older than you, and here she was harboring the greatest responsibility a servant of Lucifer can bear.

His seed.

He’d heard people around her say how lucky she is to be pregnant with Lucifer’s child; it is a high honor to carry the King’s child. They tell her that she will be the mother of a powerful lord, who will take over the world and rule as a living god. He heard one midwife talk of Lucifer’s other children, and how successful they’d become. Very few women have had the privilege to carry the new Antichrist. She should be thankful for this child’s birth is a slight upon The Almighty. San knew he’d be more worried about not dying during the birth than the honor of being chosen.

“Your first birthing ceremony, son?”

The soldier beside him leaned over and whispered, not catching anyone’s attention. San almost didn’t hear him. He saw more blood staining the mother’s white dress. San shed more blood than either of his brothers, but this was different.

“Yes, sir.”

Hector chortled. His former commander stood in bronze armor that popped against his green tinged skin. His horns, white and ribbed, curved from the top of his forehead and his wings remained close to his back. He stood several inches taller than San, and much wider too.

“Is it always this…bloody?” he asked, watching the midwife reach forward.

“Yes, sometimes bloodier depending on the woman,” he replied. “It is an honor to be here, Choi. Not just anyone is chosen to protect The King’s offspring.”

“I know.”

The messenger came to the Black Keep with a royal summons from His Majesty to San. San thought it might be to perform a demonstration in the frozen palace in the ninth circle, since he’d done it before, but he’d been wrong. Lucifer had impregnated another follower, who was due any day. They’d chosen him and others to protect the mother and child. His brothers begged him not to go.

“You could die, San. You could actually die if an angel gets their sword in you.”

“Please, decline. You can tell him that while you are honored, you cannot accept. San, you’d be going to the living world and you’d be facing holy magic. That can actually kill us. Do you hear me? A holy blade can and will kill you.”

“Sannie, don’t go.”

Your plea had been the softest of them. Even if you didn’t fully understand the gravity of the situation, you didn’t like the sound of it. The look of concern in your eyes haunted him as he stepped through the portal into the living world. He found himself memorizing your kiss when they arrived at the church. Standing in the circular room, watching a young woman give her life for her master, you kept rushing to his mind. It was possible that this birth would be successful and he'd go home to you. But, the likelihood of a fight was also possible. Every soldier faces the risk when they head into battle. San knows once he picks up his sword, he agrees to the fight. There’d been a time in his life where he’d join without hesitation, but that changed when you arrived.

The image of you sitting across from him, laughing at one of his jokes and engaging in conversation, brought comfort to him. In a world of blood and pain, you’d become a beacon of warmth; the candle in the window or the light in his valley of darkness. When he first looked at you upclose, seeing you in the soft firelight, he felt you slip through the chinks in his armor. He still thinks about the vision of you on the soft sheets, soundlessly sleeping next to him the morning after. He’d wanted to stay holding you a bit longer. San wanted to know the beautiful “human” who’d wandered into his life so unexpectedly. He’s thankful you’d decided to stay so he can keep digging for more.

“Father,” the midwife turned to the coven leader, “There’s something wrong.”

“What’s wrong?!” the mother panicked hearing this, eyes wide with fear as she looked between them. Neither priest or midwife answered her, but instead quietly spoke to one another. “What is going on?! What’s wrong with my baby?!”

San’s blood ran cold. He watched the pair continue talking before the priest went to retrieve a black bottle from a nearby altar. He bid the mother to drink it, telling her it’ll save her child. San saw him bring the bottle to her lips, and she gulped it greedily. Thin crimson trails leaked from the sides of her mouth, not going to waste as she wiped them. Suddenly, she screamed. A terrible, painful scream ripped through her chest and out into the world. Bony fingers gripped the sheets underneath her, and her toes tightly curled inwards. The midwives encouraged her to keep pushing, even as her screams turned into guttural snarls. San’s eyes widened as that final push ended in high pitched squeals drowning her out. The coven members awed and praised her as the head midwife pulled the squalling babe from her.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Hector asked, wiping his eyes. “I always cry at these things.”

“Yes. It’s wonderful,” San said in a monotone voice.

The midwife wiped the blood and matter from the baby, and San finally caught a look at it. Skin the color of snow, he saw small hands and feet kicking around before being swaddled in a blanket. The mother beamed happily, laughing as she held her baby to her naked chest.

“She’s beautiful, Francesca,” smiled the midwife. “You’ve done well, my child.”

“What’s her name, Sister?” asked one of the attendants.

“Gisella,” the mother sniffled, unable to stop her happy tears. “Her name is Gisella.”

Francesca kissed her daughter’s forehead, not bothered by her small claws or dark red eyes. San knew once the child grew, the human features would start appearing. He wondered if any child you two had would be the same. His heart fluttered imagining you in her position, holding his child and crying tears of joy. It was unlikely you’d want children or a family, since you never showed interest in having them, but he knew you at least liked babies. You smiled whenever you saw one in the street, and some friends of yours had them. The dream of you carrying his children, being a mother to them would be a dream.

“Choi,” Hector called to him from the birthing bed, “Come see her.”

In timid steps, San approached them. The stench of blood grew thicker, but the sight of the newest Antichrist took his attention away. The baby had His Majesty’s sharp nose and round eyes, but her mother’s lips and chin.

“Congratulations,” San said kindly.

“Thank you,” she smiled, immediately looking back at her baby.

“His Majesty must be informed at once,” the priest said.

“I’ll have one of my men go inform him…” Hector said, but San tuned him out right away.

An unnatural breeze blew in from the nearby tunnel entrance. His entire body moved into action. In an instant, a figure in bright gold armor appeared from thin air, raising their longsword to slash at San. He blocked it with his own sword, then swiped at them. The angel, with their large feather wings, lifted into the air and more of them appeared. Then, the battle began. San and Hector stood by the table while their fellows fought off those at the entrances. The angel who’d attacked San came at him again, but a swing of his sword to the midriff and then to the back of their wings wounded the celestial being. San then blocked another angel’s sword, kicking them right in the chest and stabbing them in the gut. All the adrenaline he’d held back came at him full force. It fueled his fast, precise movements, causing his heart to pound in his ears and made him hyper aware of his surroundings.

“Beat them back!” ordered Hector, who blocked an angel’s sword. “Protect the babe!”

He could not fail. If the angels managed to get their hands on the baby, they’d never see her again. One angel flew and landed on top of the table, reaching for Gisella, but a slice at the back of their ankles crippled them. San then stabbed them right in the neck, blood spurting from the wound and the angel clutched their neck as they fell. He had no time to observe.

“Can you stand?” he asked Francesca, who shook her head.

“Take her,” the young woman cried, handing Gisella to him. “Please, take her.”

“Take the baby and get out, Choi,” Hector ordered.

He gently took the baby from Francesca, and held it close to him. Due to all the noise and commotion stimulating her senses, little Gisella’s shrieks nearly blew out his ears. San, unable to use one arm, swung his sword at any enemy he came across through the tunnels. The portal back home was on the other side of the church, underneath the Vatican streets. Urgency pushed him forward, and panic had him holding the child close to his chest. He moved through the caverns until he reached a large room where seven demonic statues stood facing the center. Yet, right as he reached the very threshold, one of the angels grabbed him by the metal arm guard and spun him away. San lost his grip on Gisella, who floated in the air before being caught by an angel.

“No!” he screamed, scrambling to stand and rush at the man holding Lucifer’s child, but was then countered by another soldier.

The burning heat of a holy blade seared his skin, sinking further into his body. All the air in his went out in a single gasp. His muscles constricted, but he maintained his own strength. As the pain took over, San reached for the dagger on his belt. The handle carved with serpents slithering towards the rose pummel, San sunk his blade into the angel’s exposed neck. Blood poured out from the angel’s mouth and artery, while more bled out from San’s side. The angel fell first, laying flat on their wings as they struggled to stay alive. Demon blades held the same power as holy ones. Falling to the ground, San took deep breaths on the stone ground. Each one burned, and he felt them start to choke him. He grabbed at the wound between his ribs. His vision started to blur and blacken, but he blinked it away. Images suddenly flashed before his eyes.

Hongjoong smirking and winking as he stole a grape from San’s bowl.

Seonghwa smiling widely, a book in his lap and the sun beaming behind him.

The three of them sitting in the lounge, chattering and laughing together.

And you. Wonderful you. Your eyes are bright with happiness as flowers grow all around you. Face down on the floor, the stone scratching his cheeks and arms, he held onto images of the four of you. The sounds of his enemies fleeing with the squealing baby became muddled and inaudible to him. He thought of your laugh, sweet and cheerful. He’d promised to come home. More pain shot through him as the magic took over, sapping more life from him.

“Choi!” he heard a voice say from nearby.

Before, he would’ve been glad to be dying for his king. He’d feel honored to die fighting. Not anymore. Now, he wanted to live. San only groaned, rolling onto his back. He struggled for a breath, clutching onto each one as it may be his last. He told Seonghwa he’d be back in no time. It’d been almost a month. Hands grabbed at him, and he left the ground.

He told Hongjoong not to worry; that he’d been in tons of battles before.

He told you he’d be fine. He said he’d be home before you knew it.

Promises he’s unable to keep. San clung on to every breath, feeling the pain it brought and the hollowness of his chest. The sudden nothingness of the portal sucked more precious life from him. He heard voices all around him. Bright lights burned his eyes. Where were you? He wanted to see you. He wanted to see his brothers. Several hands laid him on a firm surface, and small wheels could be heard underneath him.

“You’re going to be alright, son,” he heard Hector’s voice. “You’re going to be alright.”

His Darling, who brought so much comfort to him. He’d never known real comfort until he ended up in Hell. The couple he’d been given to gave him the bare minimum. The witch, Hyeon, and her servant, Heechul, took him in as a baby and never told him about his true identity. He’d only learned what a family was when his brothers took him into their home.

Darkness came over him the moment the cart stopped. He forced himself to stay awake, despite the blood filling his lungs to choke him. San wanted to see you. He needed to see you one last time.

“YN…”

****

“Wake up, you stupid boy!”

The world came to him in a blur. He blinked back the rays of sun peeking in between the cracks in the curtains. Outside his doorway, he heard the other tenants starting to rise from their corners of the shared room. The stench of sweat, illness and filth sunk right into his nose at the first breath; he coughed it out as he did every morning.

“I said ‘get up’!”

A swift kick to his ribs took the breath from his chest. San curled inwards on the thin mattress, groaning as the pain subsided into a dull ache. Kicks to the stomach hurt more without any fat protecting it. Immediately, the boy stood up from his bed on heavy legs. Ahead of him, a skinny woman with messy black hair in a bun walked away from him to a rickety dresser. He watched her start slipping into a ragged chemise and stockings. In a corner of their small area, a man in rags sat passed out against the wall. The dark bottle beside him told San he'd drunk too much gin again. He recalled Hyeon and Heechul’s argument last night, and the latter likely drowned his sorrows in the drink. The yellowish puddle around him made San’s stomach churn.

“Daniel!” Hyeon screeched from her cot, using his English name.

“I’m up.”

He picked up the gin bottle from Heechul, and finished it off. The pure liquor stung his throat, but relieved his thirst and woke him up right away. All around him, he heard people starting to rise from their beds to begin their day. He saw Mrs. Cimorelli pulling on the top layer of her dress. His eyes scanned over her slim figure, taking in her soft curls and olive skin. A shudder went through him when he recalled a few nights previous, when he’d offered her his last bit of coin for a suck. His age, fifteen, didn’t matter to a whore like her. San snapped back into reality when a sharp hand hit the back of his head. This caused Mrs. Cimorelli to turn her head. It took her a moment, but she smirked when she realized he’d been watching her.

“Filthy lout,” Hyeon scoffed, pulling on her worn out boots. “You’re going to catch a pox one day, boy. You mark my words.”

“Ah, shut up, you ol’ cow,” he snapped back, rubbing where she’d hit him.

“You're lucky I got work, or you'll get more than a clout on the ear. You get yourself right and get going. The overseer will deduct your wages if you’re late.”

San glared at her. He'd grown used to it since arriving in New York. Whenever she started barking about work, he thought of telling Hyeon they’d do better starving back home than starving in a new country. Though, she’d quickly retort with, “There aren’t any jobs at home.” He’d then tell her fortune tellers and mediums did just as well in Korea as they did in New York.

When Hyeon turned her back, San quickly snatched the lump of bread she had hidden under her blanket. Taking a bite of the hard lump, he glanced back at Mrs. Cimorelli as he passed her. Her small wink and smile warmed his blood. If he made enough, he’d give her another go if he caught her on the street that night. San walked past the other tenants in the small apartment space, nodding to those he knew and turning from those he didn’t and walked outside. In the stairwell, he heard the hustle of the morning crowds. He heard and smelled everything around him. He heard babies crying behind closed doors; he caught Mr. And Mrs. Wang arguing about Mr. Wang’s drinking again; he saw Daisy, Irene, and Sarah walking up the stairs from their night on the streets.

“Morning, Handsome,” Daisy, straight black hair in a messy braid and dress slightly askew, smiled at him. “We missed you last night.”

“Sorry ladies, I had places to be,” he said apologetically as he walked down past them.

“Will you be out tonight?” asked Irene, a red blotch starting to bruise on her peachy skin. “You know I always save space for you.”

“If the boss lets me,” he winked, walking down the steps to the next floor.

The best thing about New York? The girls. Back home, girls shared the conservative, modest views of their parents. The women in the brothels looked tempting, but they didn’t service teens. The ladies he’d met in America did him as long as he had enough money.

Coming out into the street, San took in the sights and smells of New York’s Chinatown. It wasn’t strictly speaking only Chinese people. A melting pot of different ethnicities and races lived in the small community, working and surviving off meager wages. Those with a bit more sand did jobs for the gangs around the city. When he first arrived, San got a job at the textile factory working the looms. It was a dangerous job for a skinny boy who barely spoke English, but it was better than the street. Of course, any money he made went directly to Hyeon, who claimed to spend it on ‘keeping them above ground’. Heechul worked in the fish market, coming home stinking of fish guts and stagnant water every day, while Hyeon was a seamstress who told fortunes on the side. It was when he beat down two thugs trying to rob him that he caught the attention of crime boss Lee “Benny” Siwon. Siwon led the gang known as the Black Lotus, a gang known for smuggling, theft, and drugs. He offered San a place in his gang.

San had been working for him ever since.

Making a right turn down an alley, he passed through a market street where vendors peddled their wares. His stomach growled seeing the fruits and vegetables being left out. He bypassed a fruit vendor, and with a deft hand, took up the topmost apple in the pile. The vendor never noticed. Nobody noticed. He waited until he’d gotten a good distance before he sunk his teeth into it. The sweet juice filling his mouth pushed back the constant seed of hunger. San could never take food home, otherwise Hyeon split it and gave him the small pieces. One might think a new country with better opportunities would make the old witch turn over a new leaf. It’d done nothing.

San finally reached a small restaurant nestled between a butcher’s shop and a chemist. The black lotus sign hanging above the door told people who ran these streets. He walked in with a small smile, seeing people already at tables and servers taking orders. The boys sitting at a nearby table took notice of him first, all of them smiling and greeting him. He shook hands, and took the shot of gin that they offered. As the boys went back to talking about their various runs, San lit a cigarette and took his first puff of the day. Any minute now, Siwon will send one of his thugs to give them various jobs for the day. Everything from passing on messages, picking up or dropping off products to theft and beating people up could be assigned to any of them. San hoped he’d be sent on one of the more important jobs for once. Things like stealing from rival gangs, picking up money from extorted business owners, or roughing up people who owed money paid much more. Siwon promised he’d give him a chance one day, but ‘one day’ is too far away.

“Hey boys,” a tall man with square shoulders and an oval face approached them. In his tailored pin-strip suit, he looked like any ordinary gentleman.

“Shoiming!” the boys cheered, clasping hands with the older man.

“I got your jobs right here,” he said, holding up a few papers. "You know your streets. You know your marks,” he began passing items to certain boys, “Get the job done fast, you get paid even faster.”

Shoiming handed everyone a slip, and San looked at his. From the scrawled handwriting, he saw mostly pick ups and drop offs. He sucked his teeth. Pennies again. He supposed low wages were better than none. He stood up from the table, holding his cigarette in the corner of his mouth, as he tucked the paper into his pocket. It was then that Shoiming stopped him by the shoulder. For a split second, San thought he’d get a scolding for his reaction, but the large man didn’t seem angry.

“Do your work quickly,” he said, “Siwon has a big job for you tonight.”

“Really?” San’s eyes lit up. “What is it? Smuggling? Roughing up?”

“Something like that,” he nodded. “Go on, now.”

San walked with a pep in his step the rest of the day. While Hyeon thought he was at the factory, he was really jumping from place to place. He handed off packages and messages that couldn’t be sent through official channels. He bought and sold the items given to him by various vendors. San even took time to go into the fancy part of town where he picked pockets. He’d gotten away with a decent loot: a gold pocket watch, a few coins, three rings he lifted from a shop, and a snuff box he stole from a fancy lady. Siwon will be so impressed, he’ll take him on the big jobs. By nightfall, San felt nervous and excited. He came back to the restaurant with his loot and messages.

“Good haul,” nodded Shioming. He took the pocket watch, two rings and the snuff box. “Siwon’s not here. He told me to tell you to meet him at Flannery’s Hall. It’s on King’s street, not too far from here.”

“What’s that? Some kind of club?”

“Yes, now hit the bricks. Don’t be late.”

He left right away, going down all the alleys and side streets until he reached King’s street. The nightlife started buzzing to life around him. New York never slept, he’d come to learn during his time there. Back home, everything grew quiet once the work day ended. That wasn’t the case in this new country. Life kept going even as the moon reached high into the sky. He liked that. He never grew bored or anxious in the hustle of the city. Walking down a row of clubs and bars, San stopped outside the one with the sign ‘Flannery’s Hall’ written on it. He only stopped because his stomach twisted tightly. A pair of women’s boots hung on the newel post leading down into the building’s basement. San tried not thinking anything of it as he walked through the doors.

Once inside, a new world unfolded in front of him. In the small bar, he saw men sitting and drinking at tables with pretty girls. Except, most of the ‘pretty girls’ weren’t girls at all. They were boys in girls’ clothes and wigs who’d powdered their faces. In various stages of dress, they moved about the room to their marks while one “girl” sang up on a stage in a falsetto voice. San’s insides told him to run, but he knew better. Siwon didn’t like people who didn’t follow orders. He walked up to the bar where a young man stood handing out mugs of beer.

“Excuse me,” he said to the man, “I’m looking for Siwon. My boss said he’d be here.”

“Nah, I ain’t seen him,” the barman replied.

A lie. He likely didn’t trust San. Most white people didn’t. He huffed and turned to the room. San tried not noticing the boys around him. He found them to be beautiful in and out of their dresses. He supposed them dressing as girls made it easier for their customers to stomach their desires. San preferred boys who looked like boys and girls who looked like girls. Of course, he kept that bit to himself. If Hyeon knew, she’d kick him out for sure. She’d rather he be stealing than selling himself to old men.

“I know where Benny is,” someone said to him.

In a very short night dress and stockings, there was nothing hiding the fact that they were a boy. Blond hair cropped short, he wore a thin robe that barely hid the naked flesh exposed underneath. He sat on the bar stool next to San, light blue eyes sultry and flirtatious, and leaned closer.

“I can take you to him.”

“What’s it going to cost me?”

“For you? Not a dime. I’m Lucy,” he said, “Benny and I are pretty close. I can get you in with him.”

“He asked me to come,” San said.

Lucy paused, his seductive stare breaking for a brief moment, “Huh, alright. Come with me, handsome.”

Lucy walked him through the bar’s main floor and up the stairs. He tried ignoring the workers servicing their clients or sitting in their rooms waiting for the next one. San enjoyed a good brothel, but something about Flannery’s Hall disgusted him. Not the boys or the girls, but the clientele. Old, wrinkled men who want things that real girls would not do. He saw one man in just his trousers come out of a room holding his shirt. Even after being with the person inside, he still sized San up with hungry eyes. He nearly vomited before moving onwards. Lucy led him to a series of rooms on the third floor. These rooms weren’t much quieter either. His body grew numb. He regretted coming here.

“Do you know what he wants?” he asked Lucy, keeping the nerves out of his voice.

“What every man that comes here wants.” He brought San to the last room and turned around, “Just relax. It’ll be over a lot quicker than you think.”

He blew San a kiss, and walked away. San could run. He could turn tail back home and pretend he’d gotten lost. He can say he got picked up by cops. But, he knew Siwon. The old man would see right through him. It wouldn’t be his first time with a man, but those had been different. He didn’t do it for money or by force then. San turned the knob, took a deep breath, and went inside.

“-And I told him, ‘Sure you can have it, but let me tell you, this snuff bites back!’”

Siwon sat in a well furnished room with a group of other well-dressed men. He stayed frozen by the door, counting down the seconds before someone saw the young, good-looking boy in the doorway. Siwon lifted his head first, gleeful and sucking on the end of a cigar, and smiled at San.

“San! There you are!” He stood up and walked over to him, patting his shoulder. “I worried you might’ve gotten picked up.”

“I ain’t a whore,” San heard himself say defiantly. “I ain’t sucking anything I don’t want to suck.”

Siwon appeared stunned by his words. “What?” he said in disbelief, but then it came to him and he laughed. “No, no, Sannie. You don’t have to worry about that. That’s not why I called you here.”

“It’s not?”

“Hell no,” he said. “You’re a good looking kid, San, but my girls have to be delicate and pretty. You’re too rough for that kind of work. Nah, I got a better job for you.” He put his arm around his shoulders and brought him closer to the men, “You see these men?”

San nodded, and he immediately noticed their fine suits, pocket watches and shiny shoes.

“They’re some friends of mine from uptown,” Siwon continued. “I told them I’d show them a good time while they’re visiting our little corner of New York. Now, I got the ladies and the booze, but we need the entertainment. That’s where you come in.”

“I ain’t following, Siwon.”

“This,” he gestured to another boy on the other side of the room, “Is Tiny.”

Tiny stood much taller than San, with muscular arms, legs and chest. In nothing but a pair of trousers, he might’ve been mistaken for a grown man if the face didn’t give away his age. San saw the faint scars on Tiny’s bronze skin, and the scab on his lower lip. He gulped down his nerves when the truth came out.

“And you’re going to fight him.”

****

“San? San? Can you hear me?”

The voice came to him through a blurry haze. A gentle hand touched his face, and he instantly swatted it away. He pictured Siwon, the old man who’d caused his death, hanging over him with disappointed eyes. He’d lost the fight. Tiny beat him to a bloody pulp and he landed in the hospital. It explained the pain coursing through his body, starting at his torso and radiating across the rest of him. A low groan escaped him as a rough hand cupped his face.

“San, wake up,” a familiar high voice said, not in the usual forceful tone but tender and calm. “Wake up, Sannie.”

“I’m sorry,” he coughed, the breath he took hurting his chest.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” they said. “We’re just glad you’re home.”

“San,” a female voice spoke to him. Hyeon? No, not Hyeon. Someone whose voice calmed every nerve in his body. The other person moved away as the woman came closer. “It’s me,” she said, “It’s YN.”

Opening his eyes at last, he saw you next to his hospital bed. Your eyes, puffy and red, stared at him worryingly. The girls in New York looked nothing like you. They had bruises or scratches from rough customers, and they carried that New York bred toughness about them. You had sand, but softness too. If he’d met you then, he would’ve tried keeping it straight and narrow. He’d get an honest job and marry you. That’s what couples did back then; they got married. But then, he wouldn’t know who and what he was.

“YN…” your name left him in a hoarse croak.

“Yeah, it’s me,” you sniffed. “We’ve been so worried about you.”

“I’m okay,” he said unconvincingly.

“You got stabbed in the lung and started choking on your own blood,” said Seonghwa. “You aren’t okay.”

“What?”

Then the truth came to him. The birth. The angels. The baby. “Where’s Gisella?” he asked, panicking. “Did we get her back?”

“Gisella?”

“He means the baby,” Seonghwa told you. “They lost her,” he answered San’s question. “The angels got away before we could get her back.”

He’d failed. Once again, he’d let somebody down. “What happened after?”

“Don’t worry about that right now,” he said. “You stay here and rest.”

“What happened?” he asked more forcefully.

“They brought you here,” Hongjoong answered. “Hector told Lucifer they’d taken the baby, and, well, losing a kid isn’t great news.”

“You’re lucky he doesn’t blame you,” Seonghwa said. “The guy’s lost so many Antichrists that he isn’t surprised when the angels take them away.” He paused, looking down at his younger brother. “Let’s give San some breathing room. We’ll come back later, Brother.”

A pair of lips touched his forehead, and another hand ruffled his hair. San reached out for you, grabbing your sweater. “Stay,” he said, though felt himself dozing off again, “Don’t go.”

“I’ll stay here.”

“Until they kick you out,” noted Hongjoong.

San heard footsteps cross the linoleum floors and a door softly close. The scent of oranges caught in his nose, and he inhaled it until his lungs hurt. Your fingers pushed hair from his forehead, giving him a way to catch your hand.

“I thought you’d died,” you said in a whisper, afraid to break the quietness of the room. “When you didn’t come home after a week, I thought something happened to you.”

“The birth took longer than expected.”

“It made me think of what it’d be like without you,” he heard your tears thicken your voice. “I don’t like it.”

“I wouldn’t prefer it either.”

“Don’t ever do that to me again,” you said, sniffling. “You hear me?”

“I’ll try.” He felt you rest your head on the bed, still staring at him with watery eyes. San hated seeing his Darling cry. “Please don’t,” he said. “I’ll be okay now, Darling.”

“I can’t help it.”

He cupped your cheek and wiped a stray tear. Whatever painkiller they’d given him slowly took over again. He didn’t let go of you, worried about where he might end up.

“Just sleep, Sannie,” you said, kissing his inner wrist. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

****

He should be in pain. The bones Tiny broke with bloody fists should be cracked and poking through his skin. Blood should be dripping from the broken teeth and cut cheeks onto the floor. His jaw, his arms, and shoulders suffered so much pain that they must be in pain. Yet, when he opened his eyes, he felt barely anything. Only a dull stiffness in his muscles remained. A soft groan pulled itself from his chest, which did not feel broken or torn apart. He forced himself to open his eyes, but immediately regretted it.

“Welcome,” a man’s voice said from nearby. It didn’t sound like anyone he knew. “Name?”

“Huh?”

“Your name, son. What is your name?”

“Daniel,” he answered with his English name.

“Your true born name, please.”

“San.”

“Surname?”

“Choi.”

He blinked the pain from his eyes, and took in his surroundings. He found himself on a cold, hard floor. Looking around, he saw empty chairs in a carpeted room. When he glanced upward, he saw a man in a purple suit standing behind a window like a bank teller. Except, this wasn’t a bank.

“Choi San, Choi San, Choi San,” the suited man looked through a thick, leather bound book. “Date of birth?”

“July 10th, 1910.”

He sensed the man’s silence when he finally stood on his stiff legs. The man, dark skinned with tight black curls, looked at him in astonishment. All the breath came out of him at once, and he fixed up his suit jacket.

“My-My Lord,” he said, “Forgive me. We weren’t expecting you so early. You had four more years until you came of age. This is, I’m sorry to say, quite irregular for us.”

“What’re you talking about?” he asked, confused. He touched his lip where Tiny slammed his fist last, and felt the split skin. “Where am I?”

“You’re home, sir,” he answered. “I am Charon, ferryman of souls.”

“Okay, and what’s that supposed to mean?”

“That you’re in Hell, my lord.”

San’s eyes widened, and his heart jumped into his throat. “I’m where?”

“In Hell,” he repeated. “Since you are a demon, you came to my station instead of the forest.”

“Look,” he walked up to the window, “I know I wasn’t the best kind of kid, but I couldn’t have been that-” then he stopped. “Wait, what did you say?”

“I said that since you are a demon-”

“-What? I ain’t a demon.”

“Yes, you are. Look for yourself.”

Charon turned the book around to show San a list of names scrawled in black ink. He pointed to San’s name, “Choi San, birth date July 10th, 1910. Mother: Kim Youngmi. Father: Asmodeus, Prince of Lust and Lord of Depravity. You’re a Duke of Lust, my lord.” He paused, “Did you…Did you not know that?”

San stared at the names. That couldn’t be right. Hyeon and Heechul were his parents. As terrible as they were, they’d tolerated him enough to feed and house him. Hyeon always told him she’d given birth to him in their house in Korea. Heechul claimed to have delivered San on his own. No Youngmi or Asmodeus came looking for him.

“I can’t be. I just can’t.”

“But you are,” he closed the book, “You’re a very important person down here, my lord.”

“I ain’t a ‘lord’.”

“Yes, you are. Come with me. The ferry for Depravity hasn’t left yet.”

Charon walked out from behind the window and walked him to the front door. He led San out into what reminded him of the ferry back in New York. Thousands of people moved in straight lines towards the different colored ferries. A melancholic, dreadful feeling carried through the air. San thought he’d stepped into the most miserable place he’d ever been. He followed Charon down a flight of stairs opposite the one leading down to the crowds. By the ropes separating this line from the others, San guessed he’d gotten special treatment. Charon led him past the flowing black river, the crowds thinning the further they walked from the main ferries.

“Are all those people demons too?” he asked.

“No, these are reluctant sinners or those who received no baptism or funeral rites,” he said. “They’re taken across the river to Inferno’s port where they’re shepherded to Limbo. That’s where the sin seers figure out where to put them. Don’t fret, my lord. You’re not going to Limbo.”

“Where am I going?”

“Home.”

“Home?”

“The Lands of Depravity, located several circles above the circle of lust,” he said. “Your older brothers will explain more.”

“Brothers?” San gulped, “I have brothers.”

“You didn’t know that either? Whoof, whoever raised you certainly did you no favors,” he huffed.

Charon led him to a smaller dark green ferry. At the bottom of the ramp leading onto it stood a soldier in bronze armor. Charon approached with a self-important smugness.

Charon turned to him. “Here’s your ferry and your ticket,” he handed San a ticket from his inner pocket. “Hand it to the guard, and he’ll let you on board. It’s a short trip, but there’s plenty of food and drink there.”

“Thanks,” San said, reading the white ticket.

“You’re welcome, and I hope you enjoy your new home.”

San nodded as Charon left his side. Anxiously, he walked up to the guard.

“Ticket, please,” he said. When San handed it to him, he checked and then stamped an approval. “Welcome to Hell, my lord.”

“Thanks.”

San took careful steps up the ramp. It reminded him of the ferries back in New York, except this one didn’t have any people. An attendant in a purple vest and pencil skirt smiled brightly when he walked into the sitting room. She offered him refreshments, but he declined. He might vomit if he digested anything. Sitting on a chair, he kept an eye on his surroundings. He wanted to think he’d entered a sort of coma-induced dream. Right now, he’s really in a hospital bed. Any second, he’ll wake up and it would’ve been a big dream.

He figured out he was wrong once the ferry reached port. The attendant led him to the ramp and gave him the typical customer-service farewell. At the bottom, he spotted dozens of people leaving their own boats to come ashore. He might as well be in New York, coming off a ferry from one part of the city to another. San had no clue where to go from here. Charon gave him no directions, and the attendant told him nothing. Staring around, he saw certain people in suits holding up signs. He spotted a tall, broad-shouldered man in a suit holding a card with his name on it.

“Um, hello?” San approached him slowly.

“Choi San?” the man asked with bright eyes.

“That’s me.”

“Oh, wonderful,” he laughed with relief. “I’m Yunho. I work for your brothers. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, sir. We weren’t expecting you for a few more years.”

“Things happen,” he shrugged.

“As they do,” he agreed. “Come with me. I'm going to take you straight home.”

“Where is ‘home’?”

“The Lands of-”

“-Depravity, yeah, the Charon guy told me that. What is home? Who is there?”

Yunho guided him towards the turnstiles, “The Black Keep. Well, it isn’t so ‘black’ anymore, but the name’s endured the centuries. Your brothers, Lords Seonghwa and Hongjoong live there. When they received Charon’s message, they were overjoyed.”

“They don’t even know me.”

“That’s not important. You share a mother and father. Do you understand how rare that is for a demon prince?”

“My dad’s a prince?”

“Yes, Prince Asmodeus. Charon didn’t tell you?”

“He glossed over it.”

“As usual. I suppose it’s excusable since he has a lot on his plate. Things have been heavy for him since Lucifer added more ferry boats…”

He brought San over to a motorcar. Black with white leather seats, San hesitated to get inside. “I ain’t never been in a motorcar before.”

“There’s a first time for everything.”

The car ride distracted San from the city around him. He hardly noticed how much it reminded him of the big cities of the world. He held onto the side of the car as it bumped and rode through the streets. Soon enough, they’d left Inferno and ended up in a vast countryside. It looked nothing like what he expected. Evergreen trees lined the rolling hills and fields of tall grass. The sun shone bright in the clear skies. This was “rich people country”, as Hyeon used to say. Street rats like them didn’t live in big houses with lots of land and fresh air. He knew it must be nice, but not like this. Yunho drove up the country lane to a large gold and white gate. Golden serpents slithered down from the bars that resembled flower vines. They opened on their own, letting them drive onto a circular roundabout surrounding a floral bronze fountain.

“I ain’t ever seen a place like this…”

More snake motifs molded into the cream colored walls, with a long balcony above the tall doors. San stayed frozen in the car as he continued taking in the grandeur of the mansion. The people who lived here came from old money, like Siwon used to say. Their home didn’t appear brand new by any means, but it was not decrepit or unkempt. It amazed him. Not even Siwon could afford a place like this. His sleazy uptown buddies would never own a home like this.

“Behold, my lord. The Black Keep.”

“It’s…”

He saw gold roses winding through the rails of the balcony above, and more clinging to the columns holding it up. San felt tears in his eyes. He’d never seen a more beautiful place, and this guy was saying he’d be living here. Impossible. Not even in his wildest dreams could he make up a place like this.

“My lord?” Yunho opened his door without San realizing it. “We’re here.”

“Nah,” he shook his head, “This can’t be it.”

“You’re right. There’s more inside.”

San couldn’t picture the inside. Slowly, he stepped out and onto the gravel driveway. Yunho led him up stone steps to the front doors. More roses.

“They must like roses, huh?” he joked, trying to hide his anxiousness.

“They’re part of the family crest.”

“What’s a crest?”

“Like a little picture representing the family. Seonghwa will explain it should you want to know more.”

Yunho opened the doors and San stepped inside. He’d been right. He could not have dreamed up this place. High ceilings, paneled walls, expensive paintings and drapes with a grand staircase could not be of his own imagination. He gazed up to the ceiling to see a garden mural with a naked woman standing next to a tree holding an apple. He’d never seen a more beautiful painting.

“You’re here!”

No fantasy of his could create them either. At the top of the steps stood two men: one with thick black curls hanging to his chin, and the other with dark red hair slicked back from his face. They weren’t New York boys. They weren’t human. Their beauty surpassed any boy or girl he’d paid for back home.San saw the golden pins on their chests: a snake coiled around a singular rose. The dark-haired one wore a white shirt underneath an emerald velvet and satin vest with a nice tie. The red-head wore a similar fashion, except dark red rather than green. They were beautiful.

“You’re more beautiful than I thought you’d be,” the dark-haired brother grinned, eyeing him from top to bottom. “A bit grubby, but with a bath you’ll sparkle.”

“I don’t mind a bit of grubbiness,” said the redhead, also sizing him up. “I think it adds to his charm.”

The way they undressed him with their eyes didn’t bother him like it might have before. He couldn’t look away from either of them. He’d let them take a piece for free. The dark-haired one snorted with a smirk.

“Naughty,” he said. “I’m Seonghwa.”

“I’m Hongjoong,” said the other brother, still looking down at San's body. “He’s the oldest. I’m the middle child, and you’re the baby.”

“I ain’t a baby.”

“You mean ‘I’m not a baby’,” Seonghwa corrected him.

“But, I imagine you’ve done a lot of things kids your age shouldn’t have been doing,” Hongjoong winked, but stopped when Seonghwa backhanded his arm.

“He’s a child, Hongjoong.”

“You think the people up there care?” he retorted. “They force boys to dress up like girls and fuck them for spare change. They’re a bunch of animals. I bet he walked around with a painted face and gave blowjobs for two dollars-”

“-I ain’t a fucking whore,” San interrupted him harshly.

“It’s ‘I’m not a fucking’-”

“-Correct me again and I’m putting you on the floor,” San cut him off.

Seonghwa laughed rather than cower away. Hongjoong beamed, “Finally, somebody with some fire around here. Are you sure he’s our brother, Seonghwa?”

“Yes, I double checked. It seems he inherited Mother’s tough streak,” he said, amused. It was then that Seonghwa addressed the injuries left on San’s body. He walked up to him, and tried touching his chin before San flinched away. “Who did this to you?”

“A kid named Tiny.”

“What was he? Like four-feet but full of fire?”

“Six-feet with muscles that no kid should have. My boss made me fight him.”

San didn’t want to explain it to them. He still tried wrapping his head around the incident. He always believed Siwon cared about the kids who worked for him. Whenever one of them was mugged or picked up by the cops, Siwon sent men to take care of them. As he thought about it, he realized Siwon didn’t protect them. He protected the product the kid held for him. It saddened him.

“Don’t blame yourself,” Seonghwa said. “Men like him only care about themselves at the end of the day. If he’d treated you like scum, you wouldn’t have worked for him. I’m positive if you’d survived that fight, you’d end up doing it again with someone else.” He brushed his thumb on the split lip, “Nobody is going to hurt you here. Not even if you asked,” he glanced sideways at his brother. “You’re the son of a lord now. Demons around here would be marked for death if they put a finger on you.”

“We’d make sure of it,” reassured Hongjoong.

Their words should comfort him, but the comfort never came. He’d met plenty of adults who made the same promise. Hyeon was supposed to protect him, but she never did. Heelchul was supposed to protect him, but he never did. Siwon, Shoiming, his friends all meant to protect him and they didn’t. He meant nothing to them. He meant nothing to anyone.

“Come on,” Hongjoong touched his shoulder, and frowned when San pulled away. “You’re peaky. Cook will make something for you. What do you like?”

Nobody did things for free. “Nah, I’m fine.”

“You’re not. Let’s go.”

Hongjoong and Seonghwa led him into a fancy dining room. On the table, servants put a large spread of food. Meat, cheese, fruits, and small cakes laid about the table. San’s stomach rumbled. The two of them sat on the other sides of the table, watching him closely. A woman in a maid uniform served him pieces of chicken, potatoes and vegetables. San stared at the plate. It beat the bits of bread and cheese he managed to steal off Hyeon. He picked up one drumstick and bit into it. The juicy meat broke on his teeth, tender and steaming hot. The first bite preceded the next greedy bites. It was so good that San thought he might cry again. Nabbing a bread roll, he wiped up gravy to stuff into his mouth.

“Easy there,” Seonghwa chuckled. “The food isn’t going anywhere.”

“Or are you used to food disappearing before you eat it?” Hongjoong asked with a knowing look. “You aren’t the only person here who’s used to going hungry.”

“How could you get hungry? You live here,” San asked, food in his mouth still.

“I didn’t always live here. Neither did Seonghwa.”

“Did you know who you were?”

“Yes.”

“Wait,” Seonghwa paused, “Did you not know you were a demon?”

“Not until I got here.”

“You mean to tell me that not only did your caregiver treat you poorly, but they never told you who you are?”

“Yes.”

Hongjoong laughed gleefully. “They’re going to get torn apart.”

“Rightfully so. You weren’t supposed to be here so early. You’re still a child.”

“I ain’t a kid.”

“Yes, you are,” said Seonghwa firmly. “Just because you’re not twelve doesn’t mean you’re not still a child.”

“Nobody treated me like one.”

“Because they didn’t care. I care. Hongjoong cares.”

He’d believe it when he saw it.

*****

Nothing beats coming home. Whether from a vacation or a night out, walking through the door into the comfort of familiarity relaxed the mind. San breathed much easier when he finally came home. He smiled seeing his bedroom, neat and tidy as he’d left it, and at the softness of his own bed. Seonghwa told Cook to make his favorite dinner for his homecoming; Hongjoong pulled out the “fancy shit” from their cellar. He appreciated his brothers’ attempts to make the event special, but the person who eclipsed them was you.

“No fair,” frowned Hongjoong when you walked into the dining room, “Nobody said to look hot. Seonghwa just told me to wear my ‘nice shirt’.”

San couldn’t take his eyes off you. In a velvet blue dress, he saw the tantalizing off-the-shoulders and the way the dress slimmed down to your shins. You’d put on the diamond necklace and earrings he’d bought you for your four month anniversary. He stared down your body as you walked to him and kissed his cheek. A single whiff of your expensive perfume had him capturing your lips with his.

“You look divine, Darling,” he grinned, taking in the shade of your lipstick and your upturned lashes. “And all for me?”

“All for you,” you agreed, kissing him once more before taking your seat at the table. “I wanted to look nice for you.”

“Do we really have to eat?” Hongjoong asked Seonghwa. He looked over to you, “She looks better than anything on this table.”

“Back off,” San joked, throwing a piece of his roll at him. “You sleep in your own bed tonight.”

“Oh come on,” he whined, “We missed you too Sannie. I think we should all celebrate you coming back home alive together.”

“We can do that another time,” he laughed at the weak attempt. He took your hand, noticing the ring on your finger. “I want my Darling all to myself tonight.”

“I’m not the one complaining,” you replied, smiling coyly at him.

“First course, please,” Seonghwa told one of the maids, who bowed and went to the kitchen. “This reminds me of his first homecoming.”

“His first homecoming?”

“He’d gone back home for a special assignment,” he said, buttering a bread roll. “On their 18th birthday, a demon is allowed one free kill. They get their choice of prisoner, living or dead, and can torment them however they see fit.”

“I tormented a guard from my reform school,” Hongjoong smirked over his wine. “I put a box of rats on his stomach and-”

“-San,” Seonghwa continued, “Was offered the pass too.”

“You killed someone?” you asked, surprised by it. “Who?”

“Lee Siwon.”

“Who’s that?”

“He was a gang boss who cheated, lied, stole, gambled, raped, and killed. He sold young boys to seedy old men. He forced kids to fight each other until they knocked out or died. He was your classic asshole criminal,” he picked at the soft inside of his roll, “My dad gave me the torment pass as a gift for my birthday. He said it was a right of passage for demons. You can really exercise your powers and spread sin everywhere at the same time. I could only think of one person when he asked me who I’d pick.”

“Was he still alive?”

“Surprisingly,” he nodded. “I figured he’d still be in the same city, extorting the same families and fucking the same kids. I got my pass and went home.”

“And he saw you?”

“No,” San grinned, recalling his one year back home, “And it drove him insane.”

“How?”

“General ghost stuff at first,” he shrugged. “I would open drawers and cabinets. I’d move stuff around his house and office. I’d make random noises in quiet rooms, open windows, and make radio static during his favorite songs.” He then laughed softly, “Every night at exactly 3:42am I’d turn on his water faucet. Not a steady stream, but enough that he’d hear it dropping. It drove him crazy. Then,” he ate the soft part of his bread, “I revved it up. I’d make him think people stole from him by taking money and hiding it around his businesses. I’d leave messages to make him think people in his gang were conspiring against him. Whenever he went to a drug deal, I’d either take money or damage the goods.” He laughed softly, “He finally spiraled when the market crashed, and he lost everything. Without me, he might’ve been able to survive with the money he’d kept hidden in one of his warehouses.”

“But you happened?”

“A huge fire started in the warehouse and destroyed property and the goods inside. By the time Siwon put the gun to his head, he’d completely lost his mind.”

San pictured his killer: Siwon, his hair streaked with gray, kneeling in his dusty apartment, sobbing as the agony took over. He remembered the man’s luxurious apartment having been stripped of anything valuable. Without a maid, and his wife having left him, Siwon surrounded himself with filth. Stuck in an apartment of trash, no money to his name with only the clothes on his back, Siwon had fallen. By the time San finished with him, nobody feared or respected Lee Siwon. He only revealed himself in those last few minutes, disguised as his fifteen-year-old self. Believing himself to be in a delusion of despair, Siwon didn’t question it when San made him see more children: the ones he forced into prostitution, the ones he put into fighting rings, and the ones he sacrificed on his path to fortune. The visions surrounded Siwon as he put the shotgun in his mouth.

“No talking gore at the table,” said Seonghwa as the first course was served.

“My favorite part was when he came home,” Hongjoong smirked, hardly noticing the soup bowl in front of him. “Seonghwa and I used to peep at him through the holes in his walls. We didn’t want to force him into anything, since we weren’t sure if he liked boys. Imagine our delight when Sannie walked into the lounge and,” he held back a laugh, “And told us if we wanted to see him naked, we could have just asked.”

“And then you guys fucked?”

“And then we fucked,” San confirmed, starting to eat the soup. A creamy chicken soup he’d fallen in love with when he first tried it. “What did you do while I was gone?” he then asked, wanting to change the subject.

“What happened between you and Siwon?”

“Huh?”

“You could have picked anyone, but you picked him.”

San’s eyes met Seonghwa’s from across the table. He preferred not to think about how he ended up in Hell in the first place.

“He killed me,” he said. “Well, indirectly. He put me to fight this kid that was twice my size and he beat me to death.”

“You've taken out guys bigger than you though. Jongho and Mingi have told me.”

“I was fifteen, skinny as a twig, and tired from running errands for him,” he answered. The image came to him as he spooned more soup. “If he and his friends wanted to watch a fight, they should have chosen grown men, not kids.”

“That's terrible,” you said. Like he knew you would, you picked up on his reluctance to continue. “I didn't do much.”

“Didn't do much?” Seonghwa said, astounded. “You learned how to make armor and weaponry with just your abilities.”

“You did?”

“It's not perfect. The bark is soft in some spots.”

“It can't be hard everywhere,” San said, “Otherwise you'll have trouble moving around when you're fighting. You can try filling up those weak spots with some kind of soft leather or mossy chainmail or whatever your flowery version would be.”

“What do you wear?”

“Breastplate, shoulder arm and shin guards.”

“That’s it?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s meant to be a costume as well as actual armor,” he explained, finishing off the small soup. “It’s in an old coliseum, so it has this Roman era theme to it. The armor protects most of the body, but leaves room for mobility. If every inch of me's covered in steel, I can’t move as quickly. The heavy armor would weigh me down because of my weight and-”

“-She’s been learning how to make living things with her plants too,” Seonghwa told him. “She’s managed to make flowers that sparkle like gems.”

“That’s great,” said San with a grin. “What have you made so far?”

You began telling him about what you called “gem stems': a beautiful range of different flowers that glittered and gleamed like gemstones. You’d managed to produce opal, rose quartz and amethyst flowers. Diamonds, rubies, and sapphires, you said, proved a bit more challenging for you, but you’d get it in the end. San found your creativity your most attractive trait. He saw the ensembles you wore, the way you redecorated your bedroom, and the plants you grew in your greenhouse. Everything you made turned out vibrant and beautiful. Seonghwa’s experiments might have had various shades of purple and red, but yours popped. He thought of the yellow-mouth flowers you’d made variations of in your greenhouse. Instead of only yellow, you had purple, pink, and orange-red ones. Octavius’s offspring came in hybrid forms now. Rather the purple hibiscus shapes, you’d merged them with sunflowers, roses, and tulips. Even the more dangerous flowers, who you called ‘Spike’ and ‘Rex’, bore interesting personalities and colors.

San wondered, as the conversation switched, about Francesca. He hoped Lucifer hadn’t harmed her. She’d already been in so much physical and emotional pain. Not only had she just given birth, but she’d lost her child. He’d thought someone might tell him what happened to her, but nobody breathed a word. The mother of Lucifer’s halfling children never seemed to matter to anyone. She was simply a vessel for the child who’d one day destroy the world.

He looked over at you, cutting into the steak dinner Cook prepared, and felt grateful. Demons could breed with other demons. Demons could not breed with humans, aside from Lucifer, the King of Demons. Demons and cambions did not typically reproduce because most demons considered cambions closer to humans. When he first entered you, he quickly thought about how you’d never have his children. He’d never met a woman he wanted to “mate” with until you. Knowing you better now, and knowing your status, it was possible. Not certain. It’d be difficult and there’d be many failed attempts, but not impossible.

But, what kind of father could he be if he’s unable to protect them? He’d been trusted to protect His Majesty’s child, and he could not do that. He’d failed in keeping the child safe. It’d likely been purified and turned into an angel by now. What if the same thing happened to you and he’d failed again? The image of you in Francesca’s place, laying flat on your back with blood pooling around your thighs and legs came to him. Some women died in childbirth. His mother claimed she’d nearly died giving birth to her last child, who’d come out deformed and sickly before passing a week later. He didn’t want that to happen to you. He didn’t know what cambion-demon pregnancies were like, but it could not be that different from normal ones.

“San?” your voice broke through his thoughts, and he saw you looking at him with concern. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Darling,” he said, pushing pictures of you lifeless and bloody from his mind.

You didn’t believe him. He saw your worry even as you went back to eating. San tried keeping up the charade by eating his own dinner. The meal ended with a variety of tarts San enjoyed. He devoured the peach tarts, while you’d dove into the strawberry tarts. Your appetite never ceased to amaze him. You told him in your past life, you’d waste time going on fad-diets to keep yourself from gaining more weight. Now, in a world where that doesn’t matter, you indulged more than you used to. Cook’s excellent skills made everything you tasted mouthwatering. San didn’t mind at all. He loved a woman who ate well; particularly the luscious curves that might result from proper appetite.

“I’m heading to bed,” you said once dinner ended, kissing each brother but lingering on his lips the longest. “This dress is nice, but not sleepwear. Right, San?”

“If you give me a few minutes,” he slid his hand down around your thighs to your ass, “I can help you take it off.”

“No, I want to keep it a surprise.”

You kissed him one more time before leaving the dining room. San downed the last of his wine before standing from the table. Seonghwa and Hongjoong instantly gravitated towards each other as they often did when alone. It reminded him of the first time he saw them together, and he shuddered.

“Looks like San is going to get a second dessert tonight,” smirked Hongjoong. Seonghwa cupped his jaw and kissed his cheek, “A nice, thick, yummy creampie.”

“Hush,” San laughed, cheeks turning hot. “I won’t be the only one tonight, it seems,” he said, nodding to Seonghwa. “You two have fun.”

“You too,” Hongjoong said, hazy from his tipsy state and Seonghwa’s full lips on his neck.

He walked out of the dining room to his bedroom. Sadly, he envisioned a child in the hallway. A beautiful girl with your eyes and hair, giggling and skipping joyfully. Perhaps a boy with his nose and jawline, playing with a wooden sword and pretending to cut down imaginary foes. San wanted to say you’d both be good parents, but could you really be? Andromeda was the kindest demon he’d ever met, who’d loved you with all her heart. You had some idea of how to be a loving mother, should you want to be one. But he didn’t grow up with such love and attention. Hyeon and Heechul despised him, and did nothing to hide it. He’d been another burden for them to bear. He never felt a mother’s warm hug and kiss or a father’s arm around his shoulders or patting his back. No fun holidays together. No cozy nights. Nobody comforted him when he cried or had a bad dream.

He didn’t have any of that until Seonghwa. Hongjoong might’ve been more of a sibling figure, but Seonghwa took on the parental role. He made sure San got a good education, that he ate well, bathed and tried making him the gentleman Hongjoong refused to be. He’d hated it at first because he saw it as a force to change. But, he soon learned Seonghwa didn’t want to change him, he wanted to help him. If San should imagine any father figure, it should be his oldest brother.

San walked into his apartment, not bothering to turn on the lights as he headed straight to bed. He pictured you, him and your child having come back from a family night out. You’d be in one of your lovely dresses, and he’d be wearing a suit and tie. Your kid would be put to bed first, wrapped up in soft pajamas and falling asleep as one of you read to him. Then, you’d both be alone. As he removed his jacket and unbuttoned his tie, the idea of domesticity between you both appeared to only sadden him. What if someone tried harming one of you, and he failed to protect you? What if he wasn’t quick enough? Strong enough? Brave enough? If he’d moved faster, he might have saved little Gisella. Lucifer would be delighted for another antichrist; lovely Francesca would be rocking the baby to sleep right now. But because of him and his hesitation, that had been shattered.

“This room hasn’t felt the same without you.”

San, unbuckling his pants, turned to see you leaning against the doorframe. You wore a lace night dress, a slit through the middle to reveal the matching underwear underneath. Your beauty usually distracts him from any thought in his mind, but not tonight. All he saw when he looked at you was Francesca and the baby he didn’t save.

“Has it?” he asked, knowing he had to say something to keep you from suspecting anything other than pure lust.

“It was empty,” you sauntered over to him, running your hands down his back and around his waist when he turned away. “And the bed was always cold.”

He felt your warm lips dot kisses on his shoulders, and your hands replaced his at his front. With deft hands, you undid his belt and fly, then lightly pulled at them until they pooled at his feet. In the mirror, he saw you clinging to him. He touched one of the hands on his chest, feeling the softness of your fingers and palms. Your fingers then intertwined. He couldn’t stand the thought of losing you.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, the temptress dropping in favor of the sweetness.

“Nothing,” he assured you.

“Liar,” you said, lips on his skin. “What happened up there? Who’s Gisella?”

“What?” He never recalled mentioning neither mother nor child to anyone.

“You said her name in your sleep,” you replied. You didn’t sound jealous. You sounded comforting, “Was that the baby’s name?”

“Yes,” he said, preferring not to lie to you.

“What happened to her?”

“She was taken. I…I didn’t get her back in time.”

“What do angels do with demon babies? They don’t…” you hesitated, then said, “They don’t kill them, do they?”

“No, they purify them,” he said. “They use their holy magic to sap out the demonic energy in their blood, and turn them into another angel. To Lucifer, that’s as good as death, but it’s more favorable than true death.” He stared at himself in the mirror. Even with all his muscles, speed and skill, he couldn’t protect the most important being in demonic history. “I’d nearly gotten her out. I was right there, YN. I was right at the exit into Hell, and they caught up to me. I…I tried fighting them off, and I did for a bit but then one of them caught me and she…” his chest tightened remembering the moment she slipped from his arms. “They caught her before I could. One of them stabbed me through my armor. I managed to stab my knife into their neck, but not in time to save her. They’d escaped through their own portal. I failed, YN. I was given one job. I had one job to do and I failed.”

“Just because you failed once doesn’t make you a failure. You did all you could-”

“-I have fought angels twice my size. I have fought against humans, demons, angels, archangels, cambions, and all the rest. I should have succeeded-”

“-You’re not always going to win,” you assured him, putting yourself between him and the mirror. “From what Seonghwa told me, the likelihood you would lose the kid was fifty-fifty. You might get the child away or you might not. It isn’t an indication of your skill or abilities.” You rubbed his arms comfortingly. While you have bite and bark, you also carried a gentleness he rarely experienced.

“I watched the birth happen,” he explained, “And the mother. She was so young, but carrying this big responsibility. I saw the pain in her eyes when she handed her baby over to me. She’d hoped I might be able to take her to safety, and I didn’t do that. The child she bore for weeks was gone, and she’d never see them again and it’s my fault.”

“No, it’s not,” you said bracingly. “She must’ve known what she was getting into when she agreed to get pregnant. Seonghwa told me all about it. He says every few years a woman is chosen to have his kid, and she has to consent before it happens. This woman knew there was a chance she’d lose them one way or another. Now, is it nice that it ended up happening? No. The kid getting taken is not your fault.”

“It is.”

“No, it isn’t.”

“It is.”

“No, it isn’t,” you said more firmly. “You did the best you could.”

“I should’ve done better.”

“Stop that,” you cut him off. “Everyone always says what a great swordsman you are, but you’re not going to win every battle-”

“-What if that happens to you?” he said. He cupped your cheeks and looked into your eyes. Their shape and color had been his last thought before he slipped into unconsciousness. “What if something happens to you and you die because I wasn’t fast enough to act? What if we have a kid and they get hurt or die because I didn’t try hard enough? YN, you are the one person who matters most to me. I don’t want to lose you-”

“-Is there something that makes you think you will?” you said, touching the hand on your cheek. “I do have a shadow demon for a bodyguard, and Jongho and Yeosang aren’t weaklings either. There’s also two other demons who’d protect me just as much as you would. What makes you think something might happen to me?”

“The fear of losing something that makes me happy,” he said. “When I was growing up, nice things always got taken away. When I made some money, the witch took it from me. If I got a bit of food, she’d snatch it and give me the smaller piece. If I showed any sign of happiness, it disappeared somehow. I love you, YN,” he said, “And I don’t want anyone to take you from me.”

“Nobody is going to,” you assured him, kissing him lightly. “I’m not exactly defenseless either, you know,” you gave a small grin.

You extended your hand, and several thin vines extended from your hands and around his wrist. San hissed when the vines tightened around his arm, squeezing him until his arm seized up. As that happened, you flicked your other hand and out shot a spiked, magenta dart that lodged itself to the wall. San watched the barb start spreading a sizzling, black goo that burned a hole right through the stone.

“Where did you learn that?” he asked, impressed by the snake vines slithering back into your palm and the acid dart dropping to the floor.

“My Aunt Rhea,” you shrugged. “She’s been giving me self-defense classes. She says ladies need to know how to protect themselves from man-things. Gaia is the one who teaches me how to create and grow the flowers I work with now.”

“Your mother?”

He noticed your sad expression, “How to live again.” You held the hand you’d cut the circulation from, rubbing it gently, “How to feel whole and happy.”

“Were you not before?”

“Not truly,” you said. “I filled my life with meaningless, temporary happiness. I thought having lots of nice things and sleeping with good looking people made life worth it. But, now I realize how empty I’d always felt then. I never felt complete,” you brushed yourself up against him, “Until I met you and your brothers. I love you more than anything else, and not just because the sex is amazing.” The both of you shared a laugh, “I don’t want to lose any of you. I might have owned nice things, but the people I chose to share myself with didn’t stay long. I don’t want you to get bored of me and throw me out or trade me in for something better-”

“-There is no one better,” he reassured you. “No one.”

He stepped out of his pants, kicking them away as he cupped your bottom. This prompted you to leap into his arms, wrapping yourself around him tightly. He turned to the bed, where he laid you down gently before landing on top of you. Once your bodies met, his lips opened yours in soft caresses. The intoxicating natural drug in your mouth mingled with his own, and that familiar burning desire ignited between you. Usually, this sensation took him down a rabbit hole of overwhelming lust. Tonight, it didn’t seem to do that. This time, he felt nothing but tenderness as he slowly grinded himself into you. He wanted you, but not in the sexual, primal way. San didn’t want to fuck you until the sun came up. He didn’t want to ‘take you’ like an animal in heat. He wished to melt with you. After witnessing so much violence and blood, he wished every vein and muscle in his body sunk inside yours to make you one body.

‘You are the sun and I am the moon. Without your light, I am nothing.”

A quote Seonghwa read in a poem came to him as his hands slipped off the straps of your dress. Seonghwa was better with words. He grew up with poetry and literature while San could never get a grasp on it. He often forgot names of poets or authors or playwrights, but he understood their words. He felt them. This quote bundled everything he felt for you into two sentences. Now that he had you, he would be nothing if you left him.

“San,” you breathed his name between kisses, “Don’t be rough tonight.”

“I don’t plan to be,” he replied, pulling down the top half of your dress. He peppered kisses on your chest as your breasts spilled out of the cups. A nipple in his mouth, he sucked and licked softly. “I want to feel every inch of you.”

He exhaled deeply when your hands slid through his short hair and down his neck to his spine. Your hips slowly rocked against him, your thin underwear dampening between you. He wouldn’t use toys this time. He won’t call you dirty names, choke and slap you. San treated you with all the gentleness of a man holding fine china in his hands. He delicately handled your breasts, giving them gentle squeezes and sucking them until you whimpered. He did not bite them like he sometimes did. San teasingly wagged his tongue over each just to hear your soft gasps. He knew how much you loved having your nipples teased. It’s why they paid so much attention to them during those first few moments in bed.

Your excitement grew when he kissed between them and down to your pubic bone. Kissing along your hips, his arms wrung around your thighs so his hands massaged the inner sides. The mere scent and taste of you aroused him. He started at your knees before moving closer to your center, where you hitched a breath when he reached the very innermost corner. He kissed back up to your waist and to your breasts again. On the base of your throat he asked:

“Would you want one?”

You did not answer right away. You paused, staring at the ceiling. Right when he thought he’d ruined everything, you answered him. “Maybe? I never thought about kids before. I like kids, and babies are cute, but I never considered it. I never met anyone I wanted a family with, since most of them already had families.” Hands in his hair, you looked down at him. “But then, I met you.”

This brought you to his lips, where he kissed you as passionately as before. You both broke apart as if you’d just come up from underwater. You wrapped your legs around him as you kissed his neck. “Give me one,” you whined in his ear, rocking against him again, “Fill me up with one. I’d have one with you any time.”

He strengthened his arousal. His cock hardening against your inner thigh, he groaned as he pushed to your hips. His hands on your breasts, San moaned when a hand slid between you to his groin. He didn’t stop you from pulling him from his boxers to lightly stroke it. The pleasure it brought felt like nothing before. It might as well be the first time you two have touched each other. While he suckled your nipples, you took your time fondling his boner. He could feel your fingertips sliding over the most sensitive parts of his cock; he groaned aroundyour hard nipples whenever you gently squeezed the bulbous head. San knew he was larger than either of his brothers. They liked mentioning it whenever they shared a bed. The only thing that mattered to him was how much you liked it. Pushing into your fist, he thought of all the times you reached out and groped him.

‘I don’t know why. I just love having it in me. It hits the spot each time and makes me cum so much.’

San hooked his hand to the side your panties and slipped himself under them. The both of you shared a moan once his thick head touched your soft lips. He didn’t enter right away. San lifted himself up a bit more to see the two of you nestled together inside your wet panties. Your hands gripped his forearms for stability as you slid yourself up and down his tip and shaft. The sweet nub at the very top, hard and uncovered from its hood, dragged across the slit of his head. He took hold of himself just to move side to side over the sweet spot. You pulled your panties aside to give him a better view of your soaked pussy opening up to his throbbing cock. It made for a beautiful sight. He saw the need for him in your eyes, and he’d usually withhold it. San and the others enjoyed teasing you into madness, but not now. He sunk himself inside the tight entrance that clung to him. It brought a twinge of relief before he pulled out to keep rubbing.

“Don’t stop,” you said, moving your legs further apart to give him more room. “That feels so good,” your eyes fell shut as he sunk back in and pulled out a second time.

“It’s you that feels so good,” he groaned, sliding in and out a few times before withdrawing. He saw how wet you became each time he did it. “It’s your pussy that drives me absolutely insane,” he huffed a laugh, then groaned when he saw you stretched around his shaft. “It’s so tight every time,” he said when he pushed further inside, rolling his hips to get deeper, “It makes me want to breed you whenever we fuck.”

“Then breed me,” you said, head tilting back into the bed and hands gripping his arms tightly. “Cum deep inside until I’m bursting with it.”

Anything for you. Laying on top of you, arms sliding underneath your shoulders to keep you close, San fully plunged inwards. Even though his body begged him to go faster, he continued gradually. His lips found yours, and you each moaned into each other’s mouths. He never felt so close to one person, not even his brothers. Not a single soul alive made him feel the way you do. It was unlike any romance or feeling he had for anyone before. San needed you the way plants need sunlight; the way fish need water and birds need the sky. After what he’s gone through these past few days, he cannot be without you anymore.

Even when you managed to roll him over, you remained connected by a few inches. Arms on either side of his head, you kept kissing as you brought your hips up and down on him. The faint smacking of hips on hips joined your moans and groans. He felt down your back to squeeze your supple cheeks. He didn’t let go, but he didn’t spread or spank them either. He simply held you as you went at your own pace.

“San,” you whispered his name in the midst of your whimpers, “Sannie…”

“YN…” he replied, merely wanting your name to roll off his tongue.

You are the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Just like when he first laid eyes on the Black Keep, it nearly brought him to tears at times. He pushed his hips to yours, feeling his orgasm slowly climbing to the top. Your taut walls grew tighter as his tip hit that squishy piece inside, driving you to rock back and forth. He put one hand to your chin, thumb resting on your lower lip. The feeling of your tongue and lips around the digit made his jaw drop. You put his other hand between you to your clit, where he slowly rubbed it from top to bottom. He made sure you felt the pad of his thumb moving around over the middle.

He came right when you did. Your body stiffening, mouth hung open with his thumb still inside, you kept him buried deep as you shuddered on top of him. He removed his thumb to hear your moans uninterrupted, causing his own to drive further. He felt the distinct hot sensation of his cum shooting inside while yours covered him entirely. You planted yourself on him as his head stayed firmly on your g-spot, bringing overwhelming pleasure before it turned to sensitivity.

San didn’t pull out right away. With a bit of maneuvering, the both of you stayed connected against the pillows. You hugged him close as he continued pushing inside you despite his sensitive cock. More deep, passionate kisses resulted in him remaining hard for another orgasm. San lifted your knees up, curling you upwards to shove in at a different angle. When he broke away to look down, he saw thick white fluids mixing each time he slid outwards. This encouraged him to keep his strokes short and deep so nothing spilled too far out. He can’t breed you if he lets it seep onto the bed. That’s awfully wasteful.

“Fill me up with more,” you said, hands tugging at his scalp. “Please, San. Please.”

“As much as I can give you, baby.”

He did. He came inside until he felt empty. You enjoyed this part particularly because his orgasms also brought out yours. By the time he felt spent, he still did not pull out. Holding you to his chest, he brought the covers over the both of you as you kissed wherever your lips could reach.

“I love you,” the words escaped you in a single breath, staying as close as you could under the covers.

“I love you,” he said back, giving light kisses to your chin and lips.

While it was highly unlikely it’d take root inside you, San liked the idea of it happening. He’d do anything for you regardless of whether it happened or not. You meant the world to him. Seeing you fall asleep in his arms, San pictured it and smiled softly before kissing you one more time.

***

A/N: Such a fluffy good time! I kind of wanted to dial back on the kink for this one, so I hoped you guys still enjoyed it <3 Like and reblog! It keeps posts alive!

#pirateeznet #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #choi san #san ateez #ateez san #san x reader #san x yn #san x you #ateez smut #san smut #choi san smut

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noemilivv · 9 months ago

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Hazbin Hotel Masterlist

Charlie — crushing stages + relationship

petnames for s/o reader

Charlie x Short!Fallen Angel!Reader

Vaggie — crushing stages + relationship

Platonic!Vaggie + Blind!Fighter!Fallen!Angel Reader

petnames for s/o reader

Vaggie x Fem!Overlord!Reader

Comforting Reader After a Long Day HCs

Angel Dust — crushing stages + relationship

Angel Dust x Blind!Fighter!Fallen!Angel!Reader

petnames for s/o reader

Reader Finds Him Crying + Comfort

Angel x Artist!Reader who paints him

“Meant to Be Yours” Huskerdust x Performer!Reader

Radiodust x Disabled!Reader

Husk x Stage!Manager!Reader x Angel HCs

Alastor — crushing stages + relationship

Alastor x Overlord!Reader w/ Voodoo Magic

proposal + wedding hcs

kid w/ their powers hc

petnames for s/o reader

Platonic!Alastor + Teen!Male!Reader

Reader Finds Him Crying + Comfort

Radioapple Headcanons

Radiodust x Disabled!Reader

Partner Being Hit On HCs

Alastor x Witch!Reader HCs

Reader gets shampoo in their eye HCs

Alastor + Pirate!Reader (Platonic HCs)

Alastor x Tall!Reader HCs

Sir Pentious — crushing stages + relationship

petnames for s/o reader

Husker — crushing stages + relationship

“Bad Little Angel” Pt. 1 — Pt.2

“Gender Blind”

Husk x Past!Lover!Reader

Husk x Overlord!Reader w/ Voodoo Magic

Husk x Co-Worker!Reader (Headcanons)

Husk x Amnesiac!Reader

Husk x Blind!Fighter!Fallen!Angel!Reader

proposal + wedding hcs

kid w/ their powers hc

Husk w/ Cat Nip

“I’m not too good at this…” - Husk x Fem!Reader

petnames for s/o reader

“Meant to Be Yours” Huskerdust x Reader

Husk + Book Worm!Reader (Platonic)

Partner Being Hit On HCs

Husk x Stage!Manager!Reader x Angel HCs

“More Than Anything”

“King of Hearts”

Reader gets shampoo in their eye HCs

Husk x Mute!Reader HCs

Niffty — crushing stages + relationship

Lucifer — crushing stages + relationship

luci x artist!butterfly demon!reader hcs

proposal + wedding hcs

kid w/ their powers hcs

Lucifer Morningstar x Gyaru!Reader (Headcanons)

Lucifer defending reader who talks a lot /r

frankenstein s/o hcs

petnames for s/o

Reader Finds Him Crying + Comfort

Radioapple Headcanons

Partner Being Hit On HCs

“Mr. Took-Yo-Sis!” Lucifer x Adam’s Sister!Reader

Lucifer x Insecure!Jealous!Reader HCs

Lucifer x History Enjoyer!Reader HCs

Reader gets shampoo in their eye HC

Adam — crushing stages + relationship

proposal + wedding hcs

kid w/ their powers hcs

Adam defending reader who talks a lot /r

frankenstein s/o hcs

petnames for s/o

Adam x Cupid!Reader

Bisexual!Adam x Male!Reader

Lute — crushing stages + relationship

Lute Relationship HCs (Rewritten)

Lute x Overlord!Reader

Lute x Anxious!Shy!Reader HCs

Lute meets GN!Demon!Reader at Court Hearing

Rosie — crushing stages + relationship

Velvette — crushing stages + relationship

petnames for s/o

Velvette x Short!Fallen Angel!Reader

Velvette x 2000s McBling Styled!Reader HCs

Vox — crushing stages + relationship

proposal + wedding hcs

kid w/ their powers hcs

Vox defending reader who talks a lot /r

Vox x Stunt!Imp!Reader

frankenstein s/o hcs

petnames for s/o

Reader Finds Him Crying + Comfort

Cherri Bomb — crushing stages + relationship

Cherri x Anxious!Shy!Reader HCs

#mio’s masterlist ! ☆#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel masterlist #reqs open

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strawb3rrysweetheart · 5 months ago

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I saw requests were open so I was wondering if I could get a Lucifer Morningstar x short! reader. (About Vaggie height or shorter) I'll leave it up to you if you wanna do a fallen angel! reader or sinner! reader. Fluff, slowburn if you will!

OKAYY!!!!!! I suck at slowburns I'm sorry

CW: Reader is a painter, lucifer is your muse<3, readers demon form is humanoid, almost doll like. Lucifer wears glasses while making ducks<33. Charlie prefers handmade gifts for her birthday. pining from lucifer turns to mutual pining.

Word count: 1,142 words :3

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 ⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻

Ever since you joined the hotel, you had to endure constant teasing. Lucifer was so used to being the short one, and I mean, yeah nifty was shorter, but she's also... nifty. Now that you were the shortest, he couldn't help but tease you. You don't really care, he's not malicious, and he'd stop if it hurt you. Yet it didn't. You had a creative thumb. And with lucifer enjoying to create ducks, you spent a lot of time making things together. Just enjoying each others company, creating things, laughing and smiling. He was one of your closest friends ever since you arrived in hell. When you first got here you were so scared. Charlie helped you, she basically just got you to stay, and I mean you weren't complaining. Now here you were, sitting in lucifers room with him, You were painting a portrait of Charlie and Vaggie, and he was making a new duck. "Try blending a bit of that blue into all your colors to mediate the colors" Lucifer remarks, checking on your painting, noticing your struggle about how the colors don't compliment each other. "Hm, good idea, but I want a more red vibe, and I'm out of red" You hum, annoyed after running out of the color. "Well why didn't you say that?? I could've summoned you red paint." He raises an eyebrow, looking up at you from his duck, his glasses slipping down his nose. You giggle at the way his glasses fall. "Right, how could I forget" You snort, as his glasses slip more, now on the tip of his nose. He shoves some red paint at you, Rolling his eyes at your chuckling. "Oh shut up" He grumbles, before going back to his duck, the resin making a marble effect. "Luci, why do you spend so much time with me? I mean I'm sure you have other friends.." You ask. He pauses what he was doing and hums. "Well, Sure, I do, but you and me support each other, You help me and I help you, and I haven't met anyone else who helps me out as much as you do" He shrugs, Before going back to his duck, most likely it was a gift for Charlie. Which makes sense, I mean so was your painting, Her birthday was coming up, increasingly quickly. Lucifer was making a bunch of ducks, each one a different color from the bisexual flag, and when lined up correctly, they play the song he used to sing to Charlie to help her drift off to sleep. You were making a few paintings of her and Vaggie, and one of the hazbin hotel. It was going to be perfect. Yet part of you was worried she wasn't going to like it. I mean, she's Charlie, She loves every gift. Yet you couldn't shake the feeling. "Lucifer, Be completely honest, does this look like your daughter and Vaggie?." You ask, He glances up. "So like you just took a picture of them and claimed its a painting right? Because thats too real. Though however, Vaggie's features are a bit more pointy" He praises, before adding the tip. You nod. Going back to your work. Sure, it was quiet, but you were just enjoying each others company. His company is extremely peaceful..

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。

It was Charlie's birthday, lucifer , Vaggie, Alastor, And you help make the cake, Everyone else is decorating, even Rosie came to help. Charlie was out, You weren't exactly sure why, vaggie just worked her magic. Lucifer was currently resting his elbow on your head, teasing you for being short. You feel the urge to kick him, you don't, but you really want to. "Calm down dwarf" Lucifer teases. Dwarf??? "I am not a dwarf. You are the literal devil. Why do you get to mess with me?" You roll your eyes. He scoffs. "Yeah I'm the devil, I could make you worship me, but I don't. Because I'm so nice" He says, his pride slipping into his tone. You roll your eyes. "If you're nice I'm a saint then" You say sarcastically. " Well you can be" Lucifer says, softly "What?" You ask, raising an eyebrow. "What?" He replies. You drop it, to lucifers relief. Little did you know, lucifers feelings were slowly growing, yet he'd never admit that?? No! Are you crazy? You were.. you! You had pale white skin, and pitch black eyes. They were gorgeous. Throughout the event, lucifer took notes of every time you two touch. Pinkies grazing, Hips bumping, Arms bumping. Anything and Everything. God he felt pathetic for taking note of all this. You were so focused on making Charlie's birthday perfect, that you didn't notice lucifers not-so-obvious-very-obvious crush. Angel grins as he notices, just shrugging, might as well let it form. Soon Charlie arrives. Her face lights up at everything, she squeals. "AHHHHH OMGOMG I LOVE YOU ALLLL" She whines, starting to tear up from joy. Vaggie comforts her, For the celebrations, everyone gets a drink, Charlie, from husk's encouragement, takes a shot for each 1,000 years she's been alive. (Shes oldd..) After everyone was properly drunk, they all opened presents. Angel gifted her a strap on. Husk gave her wine. Alastor just got her a card. Nifty got her a necklace made of bugs. Rosie got her a new bowtie. Vaggie got her a photobook of all their memories, plus you and lucifers gifts, charlie was crying by the end of it. You all tried to comfort her, but she was sobbing and eating her cake, crying about how she loves you all so much. You chuckle. God you love her. You rest your head on lucifers shoulder while you watch.

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 ⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻

Lucifer's feelings grow larger and larger, and so do yours. You felt he was out of your league, and he felt the same, yet neither of you brought up your feelings. Untill today, you're gonna make a move, you heard lucifer making pancakes in the hotel kitchen, You walk in and smile. "Luci?" Your voice rang his ear. He pauses and smiles. "Hey doll, whats up?" He asks. "Do.. do you wanna model for me for a painting later?" You ask, asking this question feels awkward. He just nods, snorting at your awkward demeanor. "If you wanna date me, just say that" He teases. You don't reply. His cheeks tint red. Maybe you wouldn't say yes or no, but the feelings in that momet got the point across. You don't know how this'll effect your relationship, all you care about is this moment, right now.

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 ⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻

THIS ISN'T RLLY A SLOWBURN, AND THE ENDING IS LAZY IM SRRY, I AM RLLY BUSY RN SO ITS KINDA RUSHED :(

#fluff #fanfic #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar x reader #slow burn #this was rushed #fanfiction

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anonymousewrites · 6 months ago

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Adolescent Antichrist Pride Special 2024

Father Figure! Lucifer Morningstar x Teen! Reader

Demon! OC x Reader

Pride Special 2024

“Is that Lucifer singing on the drag float?” said Em, blinking.

“Oh, yeah, but he set up the pride event in LUX, so he decided to include himself in all the ridiculousness,” said (Y/N). “But it is fun.”

“Bisexual mess,” said Em, nodding.

“Definitely,” said (Y/N), rolling their eyes.

“His makeup is awesome,” said Marcel appreciatively.

That was true. Lucifer was wearing his usual suit, but he had on eyeshadow in bisexual hues, and his voice was carrying over the crowd as drag queens and kings danced around him.

“And he sounds amazing,” said Noa. “I didn’t know he could sing like that.”

“Yeah, yeah, he looks and sounds good, let’s stop complimenting my dad,” said (Y/N), making a face.

“Harsh as ever, even during Pride,” laughed Olive.

“Well, no need to change your personality for Pride,” said Leon.

“Of course not,” said Em. “And we should know—we’re the LGBTQ+ Breakfast Club!”

(Y/N) laughed. “Hell yeah we are.”

“I can’t believe you had time to design pride-themed clothes, too,” said Olive. “I love how this looks.” She spun around in the lesbian, sunset-themed sundress (Y/N) had made.

“Well these aren’t hard to do. I just did simple, pre-made designs instead of deciding on all the patterns myself,” said (Y/N). “I’m still working for my senior project anyways.”

“We still appreciate it,” said Leon, nodding his head. They wore a pin with he/they on it and another with the asexual flag on a vest in pansexual colors over his collared shirt.

“I love shirt you made,” said Marcel, tapping the trans-flag-colored shirt he wore over his favored. He wore a rainbow choker overtop that.

“Really, it wasn’t anything,” said (Y/N), waving a hand. They had on pants with patches of nonbinary-flag colors while their shirt was white and read “Queer” in cursive paint (put on by themself, of course).

“Oh, come on, take some credit,” said Noa. “You do a lot for others and then you just act like you haven’t done anything. They had on a crop-top with bisexual-colored butterflies and ripped jeans. Giant earrings reading “they” and “them” hung from their ears. (Also, they had change the beads in their locs for rainbow patterns).

“Come on, just say ‘thank you’ and admit you worked hard,” said Em. She had on a pin with “she/they” on an oversized t-shirt overtop white pants with lesbian-colored flowers printed in.

“…Fine. Yeah, thanks,” said (Y/N), looking away uncomfortably.

They were used to just handling situations or problems by themself, even if others were involved, so being reminded that people cared and appreciated the work they’d been brought up to expect was nice. Sometimes, the lessons (Y/N)’s biological parents impressed upon them didn’t go away. The remnants stayed in their mind.

Luckily, their friends showed their appreciation for (Y/N) and who they were and what they liked to do. They had a support network, and (Y/N) could relax more. They only did things for others when they actually cared. (Y/N) was happy.

“Now, cheer up! Let’s have some fun!” said Em, pulling (Y/N) into a side-hug. “Don’t be a grouch during Pride, Birdie.”

“I’m not a grouch,” protested (Y/N).

“No, just living off sarcasm,” laughed Olive.

“Don’t worry, we love it,” said Noa, chuckling.

“Leon, let’s dance together,” said Marcel, grabbing his partner’s hand.

“I’m coming,” said Leon, following their boyfriend onto the dance floor.

“If Lucifer spots them, he’s pulling them on stage, isn’t he?” said Noa, grinning as they moved onto the dance floor with the others.

“He threatened to involve me,” said (Y/N). They shook their head and smirked. “But I threatened to have a panic attack and he let me go.”

“Oh, please, you’d be fine and you know it,” said Em, grabbing their hands and swinging them around to the music.

(Y/N) spun and faced her again. “Yeah, but Dad’s protectiveness always wins out over logic.”

“You’re way more cunning than he realizes,” teased Olive.

“You’re lucky he didn’t disapprove of Em,” said Marcel.

“You’d be surprised of who parents approve of. Most of society would think my parents wouldn’t approve of you, Marcel, but my parents love you,” said Leon.

“Him? The idiot punk?” said Noa.

“Hey!” said Marcel, but Leon laughed and kissed his forehead fondly.

“The point is, of course Lucifer approves of (Y/N)’s choice. They know what they deserve and wouldn’t date someone terrible,” said Leon.

“I’m not surprised he approved,” said Noa, smirking and exchanging a knowing look with Marcel. “Em is one of his demons.”

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” said Marcel.

“Shut up, I was terrified my boss would disapprove of him,” grumbled Em.

(Y/N) groaned and turned away before their cheeks warmed too much. “Instead making fun of my love-life, can we just enjoy pride?”

“I agree,” said Em quickly. “Want to keep dancing, Birdie?”

“Yeah, sounds great to me,” said (Y/N), grabbing Em’s hand and dragging them away from Olive wiggling her eyebrows at (Y/N). “Shut up! They’re my partner, I can dance with them without being teased!”

“At least they’re together now,” said Leon.

“Seriously,” laughed Marcel.

“It took them long enough,” said Olive. “If they weren’t together by now, by Pride, I’d lose my mind.”

“Actually, it’s the most the LGBTQ part about it,” laughed Noa. “They’re terrible at flirting.”

“Now that’s pride,” said Marcel.

(Y/N) and Em, ignoring the teasing, simply listened to the music and screamed the lyrics to Lady Gaga songs. Their hands were clasped tightly together, and when someone came around with rainbow flags, they took one and draped it over their shoulders. (Y/N) and Em were happy, side-by-side, being proud in who they were.

Taglist:

@sammyscreencaps-13

@grippleback-galaxy-galaxy

@scarlettqueen190

@ziro-the-null-god

@sammy-13

@zeros-rot

@ceridwyn3

@technikerin23

@poetoflawed

@slytherinroyalty16

@ilse235

@theurbannoodle

@lookitseddie

@amberforest08

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kermit-ydafrog · 9 months ago

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So if you guys look at the poll almost everyone wants me to write the Hazbin Hotel x Teenager Y/N

Ofcourse this will be platonic since everyone in the Hazbin Hotel series is older than Reader since Reader in the story is just 16 alongside with Y/N's companions in the said series

So uh...

Here are some heads up to what are canon in my Series which is there Age and Sexuality(All of this is based from "Hazbin Hotel Wiki" some of it is made by me because not all of there Age and Sexuality is in the Wiki so if there Age or Sexuaity has this in it Cross Line it means it's more of my own canon Age and Sexuality)

And before I forget ✨SHIPS✨

(Disclaimer: If you don't like the ships in this category then don't hesitate to not read the story but if you do like some of it then just...read or not, It's your choice and it's up to you 🥰)

Anyways

So let's start...

🪫Age🔋

🏨Hazbin Hotel Staff🏨:

Charlie = 20

Vaggie = 20

Husk = 60

Niffty = 22

Angel Dust = 30

Sir Pentious = 22

Cherri Bomb = 20

✨Extra Characters✨:

Molly = 20

Arackniss = 23

Baxter = 23

Loona = 23

Blitzo = 26

Moxxie = 27

Millie = 28

Sally Mae = 26

Fizzarolli = 26

Odette = 24

Clara = 24

✨💕Oc's💕✨:

Max = 23

Nathan/Nate = 24

Henry = 24

Falisha = 21

👹7 Deadly Sins👹:

Lucifer(Pride) = Immortal

Asmodeus(Lust) = Immortal

Beelzebub(Gluttony) = Immortal

Mammon(Greed) = Immortal

Satan(Wrath) = Immortal

Leviathan(Envy) = Immortal

Belphegor(Sloth) = Immortal

😇Angels😇:

Adam = Immortal

Lute = 28

Sera = Immortal

Emily = Immortal

🔥Overlords🔥:

Stolas = Immortal

Carmilla = 37

Zestiel = 38

Alastor = 30

Rosie = 32

Vox = 30

Valentino = 33

Velvette = 32

Skull Head = 39

Frederick = 33

Bethesda = 33

Zeezi = 30

Stolas = Immortal

🏳️‍🌈Sexualities🏳️‍🌈:

🏨Hazbin Hotel Staff🏨:

Charlie = Bisexual

Vaggie = Lesbian

Husk = Pansexual

Niffty = Straight-Ally

Angel Dust = Gay

Sir Pentious = Bisexual

Cherri Bomb = Bisexual

✨Extra Characters✨:

Molly = Lesbian

Arackniss = Bisexual

Baxter = Heterosexual

Loona = Straight-Ally

Blitzo = Bisexual

Moxxie = Bisexual

Millie = Pansexual

Fizzarolli = Gay

Odette = Bisexual

Clara = Lesbian

✨💕Oc's💕✨:

Max = Gay/Non-Binary(He/She/They)

Nathan/Nate = Straight-Ally/Non-Binary(They/Them)

Henry = Straight-Ally

Falisha = Bisexual

👹7 Deadly Sins👹:

Lucifer(Pride) = Straight-Ally

Asmodeus(Lust) = Pansexual

Beelzebub(Gluttony) = Straight-Ally

Mammon(Greed) = Straight-Ally

Satan(Wrath) = Bisexual

Leviathan(Envy) = Pansexual

Belphegor(Sloth) = Asexual

😇Angel😇:

Adam = Bisexual

Lute = Straight-Ally

Sera = Heterosexual

Emily = Pansexual

🔥Overlords🔥:

Carmilla = Straight-Ally

Zestiel = Straight-Ally

Alastor = Aromantic/Asexual

Rosie = Straight-Ally

Vox = Bisexual

Valentino = Pansexual

Velvette = Bisexual

Skull Head = Straight-Ally

Frederick = Heterosexual

Bethesda = Pansexual

Zeezi = Pansexual

Stolas = Gay

💕Ships💕:

1.) Charlie x Vaggie = Chaggie

2.) Husk x None = ???

3.) Niffty x Baster = Biffty

4.) Angel Dust x Alastor = Radiodust

5.) Sir Pentious x Arackniss = Pentniss

6.) Cherri Bomb x Molly = Cherlly

7.) Loona x None = ???

8.) Blitzo x Stolas = Imp Bird

9.) Moxxie x Millie = Mixxie

10.) Lucifer(Pride) x Sally Mae = Salifer

11.) Asmodeus(Lust) x Fizzarolli = Fire Clown

12.) Beelzebub(Gluttony) x Vortex = Bee Fox

13.) Mammon(Greed) x Falisha = Green Angel

14.) Satan(Wrath) x None = ???

15.) Leviathan(Envy) x None = ???

16.) Belphegor(Sloth) x None = ???

17.) Carmilla x Zestiel = Angel Webs

18.) Rosie x Henry = TV Rose

19.) Vox x Emily = StaticHalo

20.) Valentino x None = ???

21.) Velvette x Nathan/Nate = Vate

22.) Skull Head x Lute = Golden Skull

23.) Frederick x Bethesda = Married Couple

24.) Zeezi x None = ???

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applesontheground · 1 year ago

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🕯️mama didn't raise a quitter ⛓️

happy multi-may! i'm a little late but i'm watching Joy Ride 3 with my homies tonight, so the timing was important to give you guys another installment of these two bastards barely managing during a threesome. this isn't a hard sequel to push and shove, but the love bite that the reader received in the aforementioned are called back to at one point. that's really it, though, so it's not terribly necessary to read the former if you haven't!

also, since they asked for a tag when i finally posted this: @bisexual-horror-fan @tinalbion @lucifers-horror-harem ♡♡♡

NSFW | Word Count: 3,254 | Bo Sinclair x GN Reader x Rusty Nail

contains polyamory/threesome, slight dubcon, hinted age gap, ogling, unhealthy dynamics, teasing, GN penetration, handjobs, slapping, possessive talk, be warned: the hinge poly comes off its hinges

🎼: x

You didn’t quell either of them so much as you simply acted as a buffer. These wires still had their moments of crossing – Bo saying one thing too much that made Rusty lose his temper, or the vice versa that was twice as dangerous.

Sometimes, it felt more like a custody battle than an open relationship between the two of them. It was such a chore some nights to talk one man into staying the night with the other, still falling into the standard of wanting you to themselves. Rusty didn’t care to challenge taking Bo from Ambrose, and Bo was some days far too conservative to open the bedroom to another person. You weren’t sure what it would take, but you also knew you weren’t going to keep trying to encourage it if neither of them would go for it.

It had to fall into their hands eventually.

Rusty liked to get out of town, but just like with the sleepovers, dragging Bo with the two of you was like herding trigger-happy cats. You finally got him by pointing out no one in the right mind would travel to Ambrose during bad weather. As he got in the truck, a begrudging passenger simply because he didn’t feel like arguing, he made sure to still give the cold shoulder while adjusting in his seat.

It only lead to him rubbing against you with his rain-spotted arm on accident while doing so. You glanced up, smiling when it got his attention and gaining that friendly wag of the eyebrows in return. Soon, it became a downcast look over towards the shirt that was open one button too low. Even in the wake of summer rain in the South, it was still insanely humid. It kind of made the two common weather afflictions even worse, the edges of your hair curling twice as much in the damp air and causing you to sweat alongside being soaked from the storm.

“Ever heard of keeping your eyes forward, Bo?” Rusty chided, putting the truck into motion while prematurely smiling at what he knew would follow. The other man spat, “You should do the same, not worry ‘bout me for once.” He looked to you for rebuttal, and not wanting to sink your heels into anyone’s camp you merely pecked a kiss on his cheek, remaining silent. It was hard to play the field some days because quiet only did so much. Rusty didn’t mind quiet, but it sometimes hit a bad spot in Bo that made him desperate for an answer.

The rest of the ride was a calculated effort to keep the affection divvied out, leaning on Bo’s shoulder but also having a hand on Rusty’s thigh in the process. Sure, this got exhausting, but you were adamant to keep the peace because you loved both men. Even if they didn’t particularly mesh with each other, you found yourself having trouble with sleep without the demanding snuggles from each dude nowadays. It got suffocating, but in the turmoil of these two you found that you were reaching an almost codependent point where you needed it that way to stomach the constant bickering, and the constant roughness around the relationship’s edges.

Still, a quaint diner that sat in the middle of open field – right by the tree line where the trek to Ambrose would start through the forest – was decided on after Bo found the open horizon a little daunting. He played it as “needing to stay close in case the brothers need me”. Rusty and you obliged, the soft spot for his close-knit family coming along with him rather easily. If only Rusty and Bo could find common ground like they do with Les and Vincent, you silently mulled.

Truck stops were uncommon the closer you strayed to Ambrose, which made the fact that Rusty even ran into you kind of a strike of weirdly placed luck. It had almost been a year since that happened, and even a couple months was all the two of you had before finding Ambrose and getting caught in Bo’s waxwork web. The closest analogy you considered was like finding an Easter egg in some fresh April grass, but as you took a sip of your coffee you glanced to Bo scanning the room, one arm sliding over the back of the booth as he pretended to stretch, getting a better view of the people at the counter all while still trying to appear idle with his observation, you found that pastel colored jewel rotted to a color a tad darker in your head.

Still, it made you smirk, the hand that wasn’t holding your mug going over to drag gently along the edge of his ring while you did your own quiet people watching.

You would assume Rusty had an aversion to light with how low he wore his hat, even indoors. You teased that it looked like he was sleeping half the time, trying to play it off by hiding his face any time more than two people were in the room with him. You smirked at the sight of it, blowing in his direction even. He slowly turned his head, and you giggled, “Just making sure you aren’t nodding off.”

“You know I can’t sleep with this many people around, [Y/N].” Rusty drawled, “Really wouldn’t mind if you didn’t get off on embarrassing me.” You hummed at that, almost understanding as you then eased, “Sorry, Rusty. I can find a way to make it up to you if you’d like.”

Bo snorted, but he ignored it and asked back, “Being a little negotiator. Old habits always seem to die hard with you.”

“Did you need more coffee, [sir/ma’am]?” Your eyes were torn away from him, all three of you eyeing the waiter standing by the outside of the booth. Looking down at your quarter-full mug, you then replied, “Oh, sure.” As he poured, you piped up just as quickly, “Thank you,”

The second that smile came over your face, it was like blood in the water. You couldn’t help it; you worked as a waitress for one of your first jobs, so the urge to be overtly kind was often potent at restaurants. Still, he then smiled back a little too widely – something you didn’t react to until he walked away. Your bright expression deflated, and you saw either man on your shoulders from your peripherals. They had their arms folded on the table, acting nonchalantly for the same reasons of saving face, being cordial.

When he wasn’t looking, though, they both were quick to give him a fair sizing up. “…Y’don’t like it either?” Bo’s hand slid from the back of the booth, landing on the shoulder furthest away from him as he caught the way Rusty was staring along with him.

Enveloped in the warmth and the phantom of cigarettes on both his flannel and his breath, he muttered to him, “Think we both need some retribution for bringin’ our [fella/gal/baby] out here just to be toyed with.” Rusty shook his head at that, hat worn lower as he scoffed, “You’re not being sly, Sinclair.”

“That’s right, m’not. I don’t pussyfoot it like the both of you.” His finger trailed up, gently grazing the side of your neck and only growing more friendly and lavish as he noticed the way it made your skin tighten, the bumps revealing under fluorescent lights. “I’m saying we should take this little heartbreaker home after this, where [he/she belongs / they belong].” You gave him a cautious glance, assurance that you knew your best spot was right in the middle of the two of them. Rusty caught the stare, and you shifted to give it to him, too. You even smiled a little in the same fashion. It was your trademark at this point.

“Don’t think it’s your fault, [cowboy/little miss],” Rusty hummed, and he adjusted in his seat as he mentioned, “But the boy’s got a point. Gettin’ a little too friendly with strangers.”

“And you know how dangerous that can get,” Bo reminded you from the other side, making your smile feign into something more sheepish as you murmured, “You both know I didn’t mean anything by it. Why are you so antsy?”

Rusty gestured briefly to the counter, “Waiter boy doesn’t know that, now does he?” Bo grinned, a rare bout of toothiness as he then snickered, “Probably thinks Rusty’s your daddy.” You bit your tongue at that; partially to keep from smiling and another part to keep a joke about how that wasn’t necessarily wrong to yourself. The older man leaned against the table now, crossing his arms and giving Bo a sharp glance as he brought up, “Sure, and you can be her shit-kicker boyfriend-“Your heart sat in your throat as you felt Bo’s movement lose its softness against your throat, slow down and finally curl back around your shoulder, “who don’t know how to act when in front of the parents. Fits you rather nicely.”

He then laughed, a rather wicked smile as he picked up on the shift in demeanor. You merely looked down at the table. It was your turn to do the soothing, rubbing the knuckles that were still around your shoulder with the hand that wasn’t currently set against his side, and he muttered, “Funny. You’re real funny, Rusty.”

“Well, I can be funnier when we get back. Give you my own retribution along with [Y/N].” Rusty then replied.

With how tense the booth became, you weren’t sure if you were even hungry anymore.

They could be heinous in broad daylight, but in the cover of the Sinclair home, the blinds in Bo’s bedroom drawn tight and thunder from outside quelling anything from leaving the walls with its own cacophony, you were in a familiar position between the two men rather fast.

It was a reverse from your last romp, Rusty now the one you were using for support while Bo was easing up from behind, not shy to jerk your hips to where he needed them, feeling the anger from earlier coming out in how quick his blunt nails were scratching your skin raw where your hips and thighs met. It was a welcome intrusion, painful in the way that made you relish in such a primal, gut-socking hurt as it dripped from the precum into your senses. His cock took its time prodding your entrance before finding the way, a brute force that was sharp enough to make you squeal.

Still, he looked up at the man on the other end of you, and suddenly his erection fell out, hipbone colliding with you and making you wince a second time. Before you could assure him it was fine and even plead for him to try again, Rusty’s hand slid over the top of your head, pushing your face down close to his lap.

“I don’t remember datin’ a quitter.”

“Ain’t dating you.” Bo reminded him as he tried to shift his focus back to you, one hand between your shoulder blades and pushing down so you were at an angle where you absolutely battered by his gaining motions. You tried to raise your head up again to moan but was subsided by Rusty putting his hand over your mouth, callouses itching your upper lip as he took a long look into your eyes, then back to the man behind you.

“Sure, if it helps you get along that's fine, but I still sleep in your bed. Let you sleep in mine ‘longside [Y/N] in the occasion you think about leavin’ home.” His hand fell from your mouth, thumb settled on your bottom lip as you tried to stare up at him from crossing eyes, Bo still not letting up despite failing to tune the other man out.

“Again, don’t remember asking you any of this shit.” Bo retorted, but he was trying to distract himself with re-entering. The second time, you were prepared and it felt twice as good when he slid inside again, your back arching as you began the fight to keep at least slightly upright, clinging to the back of Rusty’s neck, a dog to how husky his breathing had gotten as you were to the pressure from Bo.

You caught your window moaned out, “Bo, that’s good. Could you s-stop arguing and fuck me already, I-“ That alone was enough to get him to lash out, arms hooking around your torso, cradling your [breasts/pecs] with one arm as he pulled your back to his chest, fucking with a newfound, enraged pace. “Fine. Fuckin’ fine, but I’m getting’ you to myself, wanna see that pretty goddamn face. Here you go,” He said under his breath, teeth glinting in the dim light, but soon relaxing as you turned to jelly to see you easily fit snug against him, “There you go.”

He couldn’t fucking linger, once again snapping his gaze to look at Rusty, mouth slightly open as he cupped your jaw, eyes darting from the man on the other side to down at you mewling with a tipped back head, resting in the crook of his shoulder as the words all fell to the wayside now.

“Fuckin' crybaby.” He murmured in your ear, not shy with an open hand to tap your face, make you groan in both response and in the sheer pleasure from it.

Rusty chuckled as you couldn’t help the drool fall from the corner of your mouth, making another overwhelmed groan through a strong exhale, trying to catch your breath but your chest once again constricting at another quiet noise in your ear from Bo. “Well, [he/she/they] might be a little too worn down for me, boy. How’s about you and I go at it when you’re done doin’ what you’re doin’?”

“Hell no.” Bo snarled, but your eyes popped a little wider to feel the suggestion had made his cock throb in your walls, and you only clenched in response. Holding where his forearm was barred around your chest, you smirked to yourself, wondering where this was about to go before humming as a way to fall back into the jostling you were receiving, your [cunt/hole] starting to ache from all the movement.

“I won’t mark you up, know that ain’t your favorite. That’s just for [Y/N], ain’t that right, [little lady/cowboy]?” You hummed in affirmation, and it only made Bo huff along in bemusement, his hand trailing to touch the bite marks still showing against your ribcage, press a little just to hear you cry out again.

Rusty leaned in, making you whimper in submission to the imposing of his figure, but smile a little in the well-known excitement to get both in close quarters. “I know what you like, Bo. You like a hand ‘round that cock, don’t you?”

“Shut up.” He gritted, the first remnants of a final spray of precum making your thighs shiver against his. He had to catch his breath after those two words, once again looking away from the both of you as he tried to focus on how you felt. You were becoming lightheaded, out of tune with the two of them to stop the bickering and seeping with warmth. You were sure to fall flat on your face into the bed if Bo stopped holding you against him, being the full support and knowing it as his grip adjusted.

“I’ve slipped my finger in you before. Thought you’d pass out from how hard it made you. Came all over our pretty [boy/girl/baby’s] face, too.” He didn’t dare touch you while Bo had his hands on you, yet Rusty didn't have to as he suddenly sputtered in his movements as Bo saw it clear as day in his mind, and it took him to the edge.

“That’s right. Still gets you all worked up even if you won’t admit it. It’s alright, I enjoy the look of it, too.” Rusty eased him down, the younger man’s panting long and heavy in your ear, almost as humid against your skin as the rainy summer air you had been feeling not even an hour ago, warmth seeping into your body as he thoroughly drove upwards in fluid thrusts.

The breathing broke down into quiet moans, something you knew he could let out in a louder fashion if he wanted. He looked down, almost turning into you to hide in your hair as your hand trailed up, stroking his brown curls and even turning your head to kiss him, your walls spasming against his body as he fell flaccid, cock still settled inside of you. He was covering your nipples with his arm, a subconscious act of possessive nature.

You were regaining the critical thought in your mind, and now curious. Still pressing feather light kisses against Bo’s face, your eyes then darted back to Rusty. He wasn’t interested in you anymore, per se, and that was a new thing. Something you found you didn’t mind, now leaning out of the way and smiling at him so he could see the confused, slightly shaken man behind you.

You didn’t think he could have eyes for Bo, too, but here you all were. Like a pressure to keep them cordial was slipping out of your responsibility, you murmured, “Want me to get out the way, Rusty?”

Bo flinched a little, but Rusty perked at that and hummed, “That’d be nice of you, [babydoll/pretty boy].” You couldn’t help it, Bo letting go finally and you nearly crashing into the other man, pressing another adoring kiss to his lips before scrambling out of the other man's lap. Bo was still reeling from the last rut, but you gave support in arms around his waist, tucked close over one shoulder despite being out of sight.

It was exhilarating to see them face to face, and you whispered, “No shame in this, Bo. He’ll treat you well, figure out what makes you scream. Believe me.” His eyes were downcast, unable to keep from getting a little hard in record time, face flaring in a flustered color. You encouraged it, smiling against his throat, “That’s it. Look at you, I didn’t know you could get hard that fast.”

“Quit,” He finally chided, but he was holding your leg that framed his with a ferocity refusing to reveal itself as nerve.

“Not asking you to like me, Bo. Just askin’ you to work with me for a change.” You knew where Rusty's hand had found itself, Bo’s entire body growing tense but quickly shivering with an almost frightened level of ecstasy after the initial hold went around him. You did your best to quell the ferocity, kissing up and down the column of his neck, feeling Rusty’s other hand come around to brace your other leg to his hip.

“Both of us can’t get enough of you,” You whispered, and Bo tried to make his voice gruff at that to groan, but it cracked: he merely hummed in another bout of desperation, head tipping down as he spat, “Swear to god if you tear my dick off-“

You couldn’t help it, laughing and hiding your face against his bare shoulder as Rusty paused and Bo smirked at him. Rusty almost wanted to laugh, merely tipping his head in a bemused acknowledgement before the younger man finally let his hands slide up his counterpart's thighs, and he then added just for good measure under his breath.

“Don’t remember datin’ a quitter.”

#bo sinclair x reader x rusty nail #bo sinclair x reader #rusty nail x reader #slasher x reader #notsfw #✏️#🕯️#⛓️

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qu1cks1lversb1tch · 4 months ago

Text

You | Lute x Redeemed!Sinner

Warnings: post season one by two months BUT Adam miraculously survived, Lute was able to get her arm regrown by some divine intervention, Lute being a bitch 97% of the time, Adam being Adam, reader being a sweetheart, strong language, some derogatory nicknames towards sinners, reader is HEAVILY implied to be a bisexual (real queen shit), WxW, probably very out of character for both Lute and Adam — but I've never written for either of them before ✨

Word Count: 3.2K

Summary: you were a redeemed sinner, yet Lute still hated you. . . Though soon, things would change for the better.

A/N — Silva is Latin for Forest *** (I know, I'm so creative). The sick meal is something I love even when I'm not sick, but feel free to imagine whatever you want for it :) but remember: ALWAYS WASH YOUR RICE

The sky brightened, bringing along with it the dawn of your first day in Heaven. Having been a long time resident of the Hazbin Hotel, you were as skeptical as the others, but played your part in wanting Charlie's dreams to come true.

You were the first official resident, though more of an employee by the time Angel Dust came around, and a friend — a damned good one — to anyone who came through those doors.

It didn't matter who they were. Whether it was Alastor, Husk, or even Lucifer himself, it didn't matter. You were an excellent listener.

Perhaps that was part of the reason you had been redeemed.

It was possible that the other part of the reason why was because you regretted your singular act of immoral wrath when you were alive and you thought about it every day.

You had walked the straight and narrow your entire life — married young and planned on having children once you were out of college and had a stable job. . . Then your husband cheated on you with his co-worker and it was as if you were possessed by blind rage. You killed him.

You didn't kill her — she didn't know you existed, so you let her live. . . Then she found out of your existence rather quickly and karma came in the form of a pissed off woman wearing cheap perfume and fake red bottoms.

So you crash landed into Hell immediately. No trial in purgatory. Straight into the melting pot of horrendous historical figures that you had been forced to write essays about in High School and people like you, who did one wrong thing.

Watching the sun rise for the first time in almost ten years, you supposed you owed it all to Charlie. Having her as a supportive friend throughout your stay.

First to arrive, second to be redeemed.

The halo and wings were an odd feeling compared to the horns and sharp tail. . . As well as the white, light blue, and gold version of the outfit you were wearing when you ascended. Odd but welcomed.

“Thank you.” You whispered aloud, sitting on the dock behind the building you had been guided to upon your arrival just hours before, surrounded by the water that was completely unaffected by murkiness or toxic waste. It was the cleanest water you'd ever seen.

Wind chimes sang in the breeze that slightly rippled the top of the vast lake, distorting the reflected pinks and yellows of the golden sunrise.

Voices drew closer, yet they didn't matter as the air warmed comfortably, the sun rising higher and higher in the blue sky.

It was nice seeing blue instead of red. It felt human. It felt calm.

“[Y/N]?” A voice called out and you turned around to face the newcomer.

A smile broke out on your face as you came to see Sera with Sir Pentious and Emily at her side. The younger seraphim was buzzing with excitement.

You carefully stood so as to not fall into the lake, approaching them slowly. “It's good to see you again, Pentious.” You said, hugging the former snake demon.

He returned the quick embrace and blushed, just like he did when you were both in Hell. You and Charlie were the first to give him a chance. “You too missss [Y/N]. . .”

You smiled at him once again before turning to Emily, who seemed to be the one temporarily in charge. “Welcome to Heaven! There's so much for you to see and do! But first, do you have any questions?”

“Where exactly in Heaven are we?” You questioned, gesturing to the lake with trees to either side, but with water for as far as you could see.

“You're at the Silva Lake house.” Sera spoke up. “It was built when Sir Pentious arrived, as a way to prepare him for the eyes of the other angels who never set foot in Hell. . . As well as a potential sanctuary for any other sinners who may be redeemed along the way, such as yourself.”

A sanctuary for the redeemed made perfect sense when you thought about it. Heaven had to do something to not only make up for the mistake in leadership that led to the annual Extermination Day, but they couldn't just throw former sinners into society without getting them used to the new conditions.

It would be like bringing a knife to a gunfight. . . They'd be ill prepared and it wouldn't look good for anyone, especially the higher-ups.

“So, what do we have to do?”

This time it was Emily who replied to you. “Just be here and show us that you have no problem learning how things work up here. . . It's not too complicated, but there are a few new rules in place after recent events. . . But don't worry! I'm sure you'll both be fine!” She smiled brightly, clapping her hands together.

You could only hope everything would be alright.

Two weeks after your arrival, you had begun to think that you could handle the new realm in which you resided.

At the Silva Lake house, you had a set routine which consisted of a lovely breakfast with Sir Pentious in the breakfast nook, morning lessons with Emily, a silent nature stroll with Sera, a trip to the city — just barely inside the limits — purely so you could see what you'd eventually be joining, and dinners alone because Sir Pentious was allowed to stay in the city longer than you and go further because he had been there longer.

It was nice to have a schedule, but having the same one every day was beginning to bore you. At least Charlie's schedules had made room for stuff outside of trust exercises. . . Stuff like hotel movie nights, family dinners, and fun outings.

Two weeks and you thought you were ready. A five minute meeting was all it took for that false sense of readiness to fly out the window.

One look in the golden eyes of the woman who would've killed you less than three months ago, had it not been for Vaggie stepping in, was enough to make you feel as if your leg was still stuck under the burning pile of rubble with an angelic blade mere inches away from your throat.

The pain and any physical indication of it happening was long gone, but the memory was still there as if it had just happened moments ago.

Yet you still regarded her as if she was an inhabitant of the hotel — with a smile and an open mind.

Your welcoming smile was met with a glare of disdain from the exorcist angel, who looked as if she'd try to kill you again if you so much as breathed wrong in her direction.

Shockingly, Adam, who had been uncharacteristically quiet during the whole meeting, was more open to conversing with you than Lute was. This was all part of Heaven's new plan.

Forgiveness.

Sera wanted you to forgive Lute for the part she played in almost killing you and your friends.

She wanted Sir Pentious to forgive Adam for ‘killing’ him during the battle.

And she wanted them to forgive the both of you for the roles played in the battle, despite you avoiding the battle where you could.

“I sincerely apologize for the role I played in the battle that cost you many angels.” You said, catching Emily giving you two thumbs up from behind the two.

“Now, Lute. . . Apologize to her.” Sera ordered lightly.

The exorcist crossed her arms. “No. Why should I have to apologize to a lowly sinner?” She scoffed. “Not happening.”

You frowned. Lowly sinner? Ouch. . .

“She is redeemed, Lute —”

“Is she? She looks the same. A wardrobe makeover doesn't change who someone is. And she practically reeks of Hell.” Lute turned her nose up at you.

“I think that's enough for this evening, Sera. . . Adam, Lute. . . I apologize once again and hope you can find it within your hearts to forgive me.” You then turned away and walked towards your room.

“Sure thing, Bitch!” Adam called out just before your bedroom door closed roughly with a click.

Lowly sinner? Reeking of Hell?

The words stung. . . You should be mad, or even mildly frustrated. . . But you're more disappointed. Even when Adam, Lute, and the other exorcists were attacking your friends, you had been nice. . . But they didn't seem to care. It felt like you were redeemed for nothing.

So you laid on your bed in silence, with tears unwillingly cascading down your cheeks, until your usual dinner time rolled around and Emily coaxed you out before she and Sera left.

As you warmed up a prepped meal, you noticed that Adam and Lute were still there at the lake house, though neither paid any mind to you. Not while you milled about the kitchen. Not while you ate.

The only time they paid any attention to you was when you walked across the far side of the living room to reach the bathroom for your evening shower. Even then, Lute only glared while Adam made derogatory comments about joining you in the shower.

You ignored both of them, and when you came out of the bathroom, they were no longer in the living room, so you assumed they left.

It became evident just hours later that they, in fact, hadn't left. The dead giveaway was the loud rock music that played from the TV in the living room, during a time you knew Sir Pentious was asleep — and the former snake demon didn't care for rock all that much. He was more of a classical music guy, but he could also get behind r&b.

And you knew with the time, Sera and Emily wouldn't be around for another four hours.

You wanted to ignore it. Oh you tried so hard to ignore it, going as far as to cover your head with one of your pillows. . . But you could still hear it. And now you couldn't fall back asleep.

Trying was pointless.

Your morning started two hours earlier than it usually did, which unironically gave you time to do things that you couldn't do with the tight schedule. . . Like having morning coffee by the lake as the sun rose, breakfast that wasn't cereal or freezer waffles, or even a nice little swim with a shower after.

“What the fuck, dude?” You heard Adam's tired voice yell from the opposite side of the lake house, the music immediately muting.

Lute's more awake voice could be heard through the walls, but you were unable to make out anything she was saying. . . So you sighed and went on to make a nice breakfast, in hopes it would help set the mood for the day.

A good mood for a good day — hopefully.

Adam and Lute weren't allowed to leave until all was forgiven and peace was made between the four of you. Orders from the almighty creator who hadn't taken too kindly to Sera, Lute, and Adam attempting to play God in his absence.

What shocked you the most was Emily canceling lessons for the foreseeable future, purely because she could, saying ‘you've been at this for a while, you deserve a break so you're not burnt out’.

It was almost laughable.

After the disruptive morning of rock n’ roll, you went back to the regular schedule for the most part. . . But before you knew it, you had been in Heaven for a month and your limits were being tested.

Your food had gone missing from the fridge.

Your laundry had gotten mixed up, despite being separated by your hand. . . Which resulted in two of your brand new favorite shirts to shrink in the dryer — you still wore them anyway.

Things you set down were never where you placed them.

At first it drove you crazy — you thought you were losing your mind. Until Sir Pentious had come to you one late evening and revealed something he noticed.

Lute had been either eating your food or throwing it away.

Lute had been the one switching your laundry around.

Lute had been the one moving everything you set down.

You couldn't understand why someone would go to such lengths to inconvenience you when you had been so accommodating for the both of them. . . So you ignored her.

And it pissed her off.

How dare you ignore her existence while she was cursing yours?

One evening, you were making a nice, hearty meal because you and Sir Pentious had fallen victim to the early autumn allergy fueled cold. It was something your parents would've made whenever you were feeling under the weather — you were just glad the ingredients were in the house.

Adam entered the kitchen without his mask and opened the fridge as you were opening the cabinet that was filled with bowls and plates.

“Whatcha makin’, Hot Stuff?” Adam questioned, closing the fridge.

You glanced at him confused before opting to reply, rather than questioning anything he called you. At least he wasn't calling you sinner scum.

“Dinner.” You croaked in reply, using a pot holder to lift the lid off of the large pan where thinly sliced and seasoned steak was simmering in a homemade mushroom gravy. You then gestured to the pot of fluffy white rice next to the pan of cauliflower. (Again, it's one of my favorites — so delicious.)

“There's plenty for you and Lute to join us, if you'd like to.” You almost lost your voice by the end of the sentence, but the first man heard you.

“Yeah, okay. . . It looks more edible than that shit in the freezer — whatever the fuck that is.”

You would've laughed if you knew you wouldn't have landed yourself in a coughing fit. So you settled for a smile as you plated up the food.

“It looks disgusting.” Lute sneered from the doorway.

Immediately, your smile dropped and your fork clattered onto the wooden table. “Then don't eat it.” You snapped, taking your seat as Sir Pentious slithered into the kitchen.

“This shit looks good as fuck, Danger Tits.” Adam shoved a fork full of steak in his mouth and released a downright sinful moan. “You're missin’ out.”

Sir Pentious nodded in agreement, eating what was on his plate relatively quickly. You appreciated Adam and Pentious trying to make things better, even if Adam was using his own way to make it seem so. . .

But you were slowly losing your patience, which became evident by the way you verbally snapped.

Lute didn't speak to you — or rather speak down to you for a few days, but she lingered while Adam got to know you better. . . She seemed rather put off with how things were going.

Like how when you couldn't reach something, completely uncomfortable with using your new wings, Adam would grab it without stopping whatever conversation was going on.

Or when he'd offer to make dinner (or buy dinner for everyone) just so you could have a break.

Or even now when you were draping your towel over a chair on the back deck, prior to your swim in the lake, and he happened to be out there in the sun. You heard him mention something about you being ‘hot as fuck’ in your swimsuit, but you mostly ignored him, aside from a light blush dusting your cheeks.

From him, she learned your favorite color, your favorite animal, your favorite everything, basically. . . And when your eyes found Lute, she was glaring at Adam, not you, for once.

Rather than questioning it, you accepted it and found your way into the lake where eventually, they both joined you at a distance. You felt oddly alone, since Sir Pentious had decided to stay in — he still wasn't feeling the best, so you urged him to rest, claiming you'd be fine.

Lute seemed to be attempting to drown Adam and he took it in a playful way, yelling and laughing loudly while she splashed him and jumped on top of him — something that seemed out of character for her.

Though they both soon went underwater and just as you decided you were ready to go in, you were pulled under and came face to face with Lute. Your eyes widened as your heart beat rapidly in your chest.

She wasn't glaring at you. . . There was no animosity behind her gaze, her hands locked onto your arms. She smirked after what felt like an eternity and pulled you back up to the surface with her.

“Stay away from her, Adam.” Lute practically growled, holding you close.

This was odd. It felt so wrong, but it felt so right having her arms wrapped around your waist. She hadn't touched you until then, so you weren't sure what to make of the situation.

“So you finally —”

“Shut up!”

Adam only smirked and shot out of the water, going to dry off on the deck.

“I suppose we need to talk?” You questioned softly.

Lute nodded and released her hold on you so that the two of you could reach the deck once more.

You sat in the chair that Adam had previously occupied and she turned one to face you, taking a seat there. She stayed silent for a few minutes, watching you dry your hair and wrap your towel around your shoulders.

Lute then took another moment to admire the way the late morning light caught on your face, before she spoke.

“I was wrong about you. . . There's sinners who don't deserve good things and then there's you. . . I — you. . . You've proven yourself and. . . I'm sorry for how things have been since I showed up.”

You smiled at the apology, finally looking into her golden eyes. “You're forgiven. . . But if I might ask. . . Why did you hate me so much?”

She became nervous, you could see it.

“I thought you might be as bad as the regular sinners — I know what you did when you were alive and I know that's why you went to Hell. . . But these last few weeks showed me why you wound up here.” Something akin to adoration laced her tone and you blushed under her gaze.

It was such a quick change. . . But it seemed like a good one. It seemed like common knowledge that she wasn't the greatest at expressing emotions, having been so deep in her work for the longest time.

Before you could open your mouth to reply, your heart bursted as a new sensation graced you — Lute's lips on yours. You felt your heartbeat quicken once again and your face heated up violently.

She pulled away a moment later, stuttering out an apology.

“I shouldn't have — hmph!”

You immediately shut her up with another quick kiss before leaving a sweet peck on her cheek once you had removed your lips from hers. “I didn't mind. . . If this has the chance of becoming something, I want there to be communication. . . If you're okay with that. . ?”

“That's fine. . . [Y/N]?”

“Hmm?”

“We forgive you. . . I forgive you.”

You grinned and stood from your seat, reaching your hand out for Lute. “Wonderful. . . How about some lunch?”

She snorted and shook her head, but still stood and took your hand, allowing you to guide her into the lake house for lunch.

She sat beside you while everyone ate, shutting Adam down the moment he looked like he was going to open his mouth and say something stupid — which was often.

You were happy and hopeful. Maybe this could grow into something beautiful. . . Maybe this could be your forever relationship.

Just maybe.

Additional A/N — if anyone wants the Fem!Redeemed!Sinner x Lute story to continue, requests are open! Give me ideas!

#fem reader #hazbin hotel lute #lute #lute hazbin #lute x reader #lute x fem reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #sinner reader #redeemed sinner reader #hazbin hotel adam #adam hazbin hotel #adam hazbin x reader #heaven hazbin hotel

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