Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Um, good morning!” Azazel greets, reminiscent of that curious, timid Angel you first met all that time ago.

“Hey, Az',” you respond with a smile, gladly wrapping her in a tight hug. She doesn't mind as you rest your hands on her lower back, even pulling herself closer as she nestles her chin against your shoulder.

She takes a deep breath, as if taking in your scent. “Do you know what day it is?”

“Wednesday?”

A soft sigh turn into a chuckle, the hug used skilfully as she slides her hand down your arm, grabbing your own and tugging you, leading you away. “It was on this day you first. Um, you know.”

Shit, is today actually special? What could you have possibly forgotten? More importantly, why would Azazel be the only one to remember? You know for certain Pandemonica or Zdrada would be much more aggressive with a reminder.

That's when Azazel cups your ear, whispering the sordid truth.

“Oh,” you note, lust heating you up.

Azazel has the perfect celebration in mind. An afternoon alone with a recreation of the event in question...

Chapter Text

Pet sitting.

Ha Ha.

Very Funny.

“Cerberus,” you begin, voice nice and calm despite being beneath the ringleaders buttocks.

“Yes?” “Yes!” “Yeah?!” the three call, still happy enough to pin you beneath their booties as they sit on you in the least sexy manner possible.

“Who is responsible?”

“Uhm-” “I don't-” “Justice!”

Yup. Pun it might be, but definitely outside their usual wheelhouse of chaos. Now, you'll endure the hour you were set. Later, someone getting a spanking. You've yet to decide if it's the sexy kind...

Chapter Text

“How much did she drink?” you ask, putting on your stern, papa voice as you fold your arms. Unsurprisingly, it doesn't work all that well on Lucifer.

“One glass? Maybe another half?” Lucifer offers, shaking her head before pouting. “Darling, I didn't get her drunk on purpose!”

“Handsome husband. Not fair,” Micah mutters, her clothes perfectly neat even in her drunken state. Well, apart from her hat. It's probably fine, but you can't see it anywhere. Hopefully, it will turn up.

You simply sigh. Perhaps you're a simpleton or a straight-up sucker, but you believe your wife. “Alright, I'll take her to bed.”

“Yes please!” Micah declares, suddenly sitting upright and smiling at you not unlike Lucifer before a sordid night of love-making. “Just hands, can't fall.”

“You know what, I think I should take her to bed,” Lucifer says, already reaching for her shit-faced sister. “Fetch Poly from auntie Judgement?”

“Sure thing, Lu',” you agree with little fuss. Mostly to preserve some dignity on behalf of the drunken Archangel, even ignoring as she tries to swat away Lucifer. Doing a poor job of it at that...

Chapter Text

Modeus is waiting outside the kitchen, tail rigid and pouting. What's more, the hearts that float around her head are doing so at a snail's pace.

Yeah, you're probably in danger. Still, you didn't get this far in life by taking the easy road, so, you walk right up to her, all smiles and leaning in.

“Morning-”

Slap!

Your cheek stings slightly. Definitely a love-tap by her standards. Still, you can't quite say you deserved it.

“Wife. Mother to your son. Is that in name only?” she asks, biting her lip as tears well in the corner of her eyes. “Where's the romance gone? Taking me to such depravities only to rip it-”

Silence.

Your hands take her by the hips, lifting her off the floor and pinning her against the wall. All fight flees as you lean into her, tail turning affectionate as it wraps around your waist. A long, length kiss, your tongue slips inside, a meek protest falling quiet as you damn near fill her throat. Sweet seconds turn to minutes, sordid breaths mingling as you breathe through your nose.

Finally, you part, spit keeping you connected as her cheeks glow crimson.

“Bedroom. Now.”

It's a demand on her part and the only reminder she needs regarding wanting things.

She only has to ask. You love her, after all.

Chapter Text

“This is wholly unnecessary,” Micah reminds you for the umpteenth time, arms folded across her chest as she keeps on walking, upping her pace just enough to force you to do a little skip to keep up.

“I know,” you agree, the cool morning air a much-needed treat. “If you don't like my company, I can-”

“I never said that!” she cuts you off, cheeks showing signs of pink as she huffs. “That is, surely you have better things to do?”

Let's see. Breakfast is served. Pandemonica has had her first coffee, decaf for now. Cerberus is off antagonizing squirrels, or is it chipmunks? Some form of rodent, you'd rather not get involved. No, nothing pressing.

“Keeping you company is the best use of my time,” you point out, wrapping an arm around her now she's stopped. Strictly platonic, a semi-embrace around her shoulders. “I like your company, Micah.”

She whispers something in return, far to quiet for you to catch.

“Huh?”

“Nothing!” she declares, wrenching herself free from your embrace. “L-let's turn this into a jog!”

Before you can protest, off she goes creating an easy lead. Ah, you can do with the exercise anyway, a quick stretch all you need before you join her...

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“You're overthinking this,” Beelzebub offers gently, a buzz surrounding every other syllable.

“I appreciate the kind words, but I know Lucifer a little better than you,” Micah retorts, sounding remarkably stiff and formal.

You know you shouldn't, yet you press against the wall, eavesdropping on the pair's late night conversation. Who can really blame you? Two of the oldest women in the known universe having a chat? You don't even have to sacrifice a body-part for the privilege.

“Perspective, high-angel,” Beelzebub muses with a chuckle. “Her Angelic self perhaps, but I was present after her fall.”

Micah sighs, a nerve clearly tugged.

“Right, let's not grow sour. As for your craving, well, I'm certain Lucifer will more than understand. Like it or not, she does have her sororal affections for you.”

“Does that not make it worse?” Micah asks, sounding pained just by thinking on it.

“Perhaps,” Beelzebub agrees. “Being a Demon has its perks, such as a lack of such boundaries. Unless imposed on oneself.”

“I shall-”

It's all you get from Micah, a hand covering your mouth as a pair of breasts press into your back. Soft breath hits your ear just right, Justice whispering, “Naughty boy.”

Penance is swift and severe. Gentle massages and foot-rubs for the Awesome Demon, mostly to buy her silence...

Chapter Text

“Guess who?” Generic asks, her hand covering your eyes as she giggles. If you didn't know by her voice, the baby bump pressing into your back is an even clearer give-away.

“Generic,” you answer with amusement.

The moment you speak, she uncovers your eyes, and you're more than happy to spin and gaze upon her. Only for the breath to be stolen from your lungs. A dazzling white uniform that's far too tight clings to her frame. Swollen breasts strain against the fabric, her tummy on full display. There's no question as to whose outfit she wears, another pair of hands suddenly obscuring your vision.

“G-guess who,” Azazel timidly asks.

You gulp, mind racing as lust fuels you. “Az'?”

“I'll allow it.” Just like that, she uncovers your eyes.

As much as you want to gawk at Generic a little longer, you have to swivel and look at Azazel. Sure enough, she's wearing Generic's usual attire. The pair have such similar frames when one isn't pregnant, the suit fitting Azazel perfectly. Black jacket rests atop her red shirt, just enough buttons popped to show off her breasts, much to your delight. She even wears the little star earrings which Generic favours.

“Pinch me,” you mutter, losing the struggle against these two classy temptresses.

Ouch. Azazel holds nothing back as she does exactly that, a particularly meaty part of your arm her target.

Generic simply giggles, all too eager to loop her arm with yours, snuggling in close. “Not a dream,” she purrs, shaking her booty and using her tail to order Azazel to flank you. “Let's get to the sinful part.”

“Generic has agreed to take the notes this time!” Azazel cheerfully announces as you're reminded how you're the luckiest man on earth...

Chapter Text

A VHS tape of all things rests on your coffee table, Lucifer and Judgement both staring at it as Cerberus wags her tail. The treasure she has allegedly spent months digging up, it still has dirt clinging to it, obscuring the title. Do you even have anything that can play this?

“Yeah, that thing's cursed,” Lucifer notes, taking a sip of wine.

“Our conquest of humanity begins!” “Mine!” “Ancient treasure,” the three forms of Cerberus muse, none eager to relinquish the tape.

“Where did you find this, anyway?” you ask, refusing to touch it with such a damning statement from Lucifer, of all people.

“Hole!” “Buried!” “Grave.”

Grave? You really hope she's just mistaken.

“Can we just get rid of it? Why are we still just staring?” Judgement asks with a sigh. You can't even argue, they're good points.

“Very well,” Lucifer agrees, a series of chains wrapping around the videotape as Cerberus whines. “None of that. You can have hubby for the evening as compensation.”

“She can what now?” you ask, only to be yanked by the trio.

The last thing you see is Judgement carefully carrying her bundle of chains, Lucifer following as you're dragged into the embodiment of chaos' room. There will be no sleep tonight, only a dry mouth, overworked tongue and desperate need for electrolytes...

Chapter Text

Your machismo is on the line as your arms ache, taking measures, purposeful steps towards your front door. Bags of groceries cling to you, all fighting against you, demanding you make two trips. To Hell with that, you reach the door, a twinge of fear striking your heart.

You don't have the keys.

“Honestly,” Generic begins with a series of tuts, reaching past you. She saves the day, slipping the key into the lock and giving it a twist before opening the door.

“I owe you one,” you practically whisper, sliding into your home even as she shakes her head.

“Men.”

“You married me,” you remind her, only to get your just deserts in the form of Modeus tackling you to the ground.

Hot, eager and horny, the shopping goes everywhere. Alas, this is far from the first time you've been welcomed home in such a manner, Generic ignoring your plight as trousers are ripped off. She's far more focused on retrieving the shopping, making sure nothing has split open in the process...

Chapter Text

“Such trivial affairs you use your sorcery on,” Micah notes with a disapproving shake of her head.

Protest as she might, she's reaping the benefits as much as anyone else. Sitting beside you and almost leaning in, she makes a perfect counter to Beelzebub. She's much more clingy, breasts pressing against your upper arm as she rests her chin on your shoulder. Lips threaten to steal a kiss of your cheek time and time again, never quite committing.

Then there's Lucifer.

The conductor of this little get-together, her back rests against your legs as she sits on the floor, Poly, Jez and Kaz all in her grasp, battling with sleep. An easy thing to come by, the youngsters mesmerized by the soothing fireplace the CEO of Hell conjured. Even she's enamoured, her good mood practically radiating from her.

“You're free to leave at any time, should it offend,” Lucifer finally retorts, cuddling her daughter closest of all as she lets her worries melt away.

Funnily enough, that's the end of Micah's outburst. If you could even call it that. Honestly, it feels more often than not she's simply honour-bound to pick at Lucifer's decisions, rather than having any real umbrage with them...

Chapter Text

Justice bounces baby Belle on her knee, pulling faces as she sits a little away from the action. A relatively peaceful scene compared to the three Demons sat around the table with you.

Zdrada examines her cards with narrowed eyes, tail curled around her waist. Pandemonica has long since folded, looking positively bored. Generic is in the same camp, humming as she sways in place, looking about ready to give up on the game and lunge at you for some cuddles.

“What's it gonna be, Zdrada?” you ask, a taunting edge to your question.

“I'm thinking, fucker,” she growls, still analysing her cards.

You can't blame her. When Pan' and Generic crashed out, she started betting diaper changing times. Not one to be merciful in a poker game, you raised and raised, the next two weeks of messes on the line. Confidence comes easy with pocket aces in hand, a third in the river and a pair of kings sitting their too. Something tells you she's bluffing on that alone. She at least thought you were.

Zdrada finally grumbles. “Fine, two weeks!”

With all bets in, you reveal your cards. Your full house looks wonderful, all the more so against her two pair, that final ace showing itself at last.

Unsurprisingly, she stops the cards from being reshuffled, begging the others to hold off from rejoining before pointing at you.

“Double or nothing!” she declares, looking all the cuter when she's angry.

Feeling like Lucifer herself, you can't help but extend the life-line. “You're on.”

You remember a time when such wagers were far sexier. It just a sign of growing older, you suppose...

Chapter Text

Sweaty.

You sit on the floor, back against your couch as you endure the cursed heat. How is this getting to you of all people? There was a time when you stormed the very gates of Hell and won a Harem of Demon girls for your trouble! Speaking of, Malina is all too happy to wander into the room in nothing but her underwear, an ice lolly hanging from her mouth before she spots you.

A smirk.

“Shit, dude. You're looking a little hot,” she notes with a chuckle, sweet treat almost slipping from her mouth.

“Guess it's nothing compared to home, huh?” you muse, start of a headache beginning to form.

“Let's see,” she purrs, unusually sultry as she approaches. Squatting inches from you, her natural body heat hardly helps matters. “This should help.”

Your heart pounds, the exchange happening in an instant. How easily she slips the ice-cold treat from her mouth, melting for a few seconds before slipping into your own. Strawberry? Definitely fruity, it's nice, cold and refreshing. Sucking on it and letting the juices flow, you're caught off-guard by her chuckle.

“Alright, I'm gonna grab you some water,” she explains, well aware of the buttocks jiggling as she saunters away.

“Malina,” you call after her, holding on to the stick, so the lolly stays in your mouth. “Thanks.”

“Y-yeah,” she stammers, that confidence fleeing all at once. “Can't have you passing out 'daddy'.”

Damn, that sounds unreasonably hot from her lips. She must agree, hastening her retreat lest she lose her edge once more. As you await her return, an obvious question dominates your thoughts. What exactly is she going to ask for in return?

Chapter Text

Huh. A brief overnight stay away from home, that's all this was meant to be. Micah even assured you she'd be happy to see the lake by herself. Yet, here you are at your hotel room, the cold realization hitting her much harder than you.

A lone, double bed sits in the centre of the room against the opposite wall.

“I-” Micah begins, swallowing her nerves almost instantly. “I neglected to change the booking.”

She stiffens as you rest a comforting hand on her shoulder, smiling against her frown. “It's fine. I'll grab another room.”

“Ah.”

You raise a brow, not needing to ask.

“This hotel is fully booked. I imagine the cheapness of the rooms make sure of that.”

Alright, no big deal. “I can sleep pretty much anywhere,” you confess. “Lend me a pillow, I can curl up on the floor.”

“Admirable as that is,” she begins, shaking her head. “I'll not have you acting like some pet.” Taking a deep breath, it's hard to ignore the darkness in her cheeks. “We'll share the bed.” Just like that, she allows herself a smile. A little one, anyway. “I trust you.”

Huh, your heart beats a little faster. If you had a tail, it would probably be wagging right about now. “Thanks.”

Ah, how easily she dispels your odd feeling with a light poke on the nose. Somehow, you feel even more like a pet than if you had slept on the floor, the pair of you giving the other space to get changed as you prepare for bed.

Chapter Text

“We're lost,” Micah states, shoulders drooping as she retrieves a map from her jacket pocket. She looks quite cute with her brows furrowed, examining every inch of the paper.

For your part, you look the way you came, then towards the direction you're heading. Alright, the lakes not here, but you wouldn't consider this lost. “Micah,” you begin, earning an affirming hum. “We're on a trail. We can't be lost.”

“We should have arrived at the lake by now. Ergo, we are lost.” A soft sigh follows her stern words, lowering the map. “Do you suggest we keep walking in hopes we're on the right track?”

“Well, we have all day,” you point out. Hell, if she wanted to, there was no need for an overnight stay, simply zapping over here and taking in whatever views she wished. Wanting to act human for a spell seems an odd fancy for her, one you're glad to indulge. “I'm not so bad company, right?”

“I did not mean to imply-”

She falls quiet as you get beside her, arm around her waist. It's cute how instinctively she leans into you. “Let's give this trail a chance. If we know no more within half-hour, then we can get technical with the map.”

“S-sure.”

Huh, you didn't think she'd agree quite so easily. Nor did you think she'd keep clinging to you as you walk the trail, the only thing snapping her from it being the sign declaring how far the very lake she wishes to see is from you...

Chapter Text

“Humans certainly can make some amusing distractions,” Micah notes, eyeing the contraption beside the lake. “It looks fun.”

It's a slide. A long, metal tube slide. Likely burning hot given how the sun shines on it, not to mention just small enough to be worrisome for an adult. “Not the word I'd use, but alright.”

“Scared?” she asks, oh so delighted with your hesitance.

Does she actually expect you to go in that thing? “If it'll convince you it's a bad idea, then yes, I'm scared.”

The fact she shrinks at your words may be more terrifying than even the most confined of spaces. “I did not mean to offend.”

What? “I'm not,” you promise, biting back a sigh. “It's just old and busted; I'd rather not risk anything.”

She nods, albeit slowly. “You are a father. Just a shame I won't get to-no, never mind.”

You think you get it, offering her your hand. “I'll ask Lucifer really nicely if she can make us one. At least for a day.”

Honestly, she almost reminds you of Azazel back when you first met her as her face lights up...

Chapter Text

“And Time!” Justice declares, raised arm crashing down as if a flag at the finishing line

Modeus, Judgement and Cerberus all come to a stop, standing proudly beside their creations. Namely, a mattress covered in a variety of soft goodies, all trying to prove their method is the best at being the most comfortable.

Modeus has pillows scattered about her mattress. Pink love hearts, yellow stars and standard squares in all colours of the rainbow hide her bedsheets. Soft at a glance, she looks about ready to dive atop and settle in for a nap. Before or after a little sensual grinding is anyone's guess.

Judgement has her stuffed toys atop her mattress. Brave knights, fluffy puppies and even a dragon, they're arranged neatly, almost as if on guard. You're almost jealous as she makes herself comfortable, snuggling between them and closing her eyes with a bliss-filled sigh.

Cerberus seems to have constructed a pyramid out of blankets. How? You assume it's some sinister award from Anubis in exchange for all the squirrels she's sent to the afterlife. Perhaps she just has a knack for engineering? Whatever the case may be, you're impressed.

“So,” Justice begins, all too happy to press her cheek against yours as she scans the choices. “Who has the softest bed?”

“Well,” you muse, pausing as Malina decides now is the time to enter the room.

“Judge', thought we were playing that Hello Kitty thing today?” she asks, Judgement bolting upright in response.

Not that it matters, pointing to Malina. “She has the softest.”

“Huh?”

As protests begin ringing out from the contestants themselves, you decide to prove why you made your choice. Easily done, begrudging acknowledgements as you wrap your arms around Malina, burying your face betwixt her bosom. An irritated grunt is all you get in response. Well, and a light insult.

“Fucking weirdo,” Malina grumbles, patting you awkwardly on the back...

Chapter Text

“I really do appreciate your help,” Generic begins, a pair of scissors in one hand, a strip of fabric the other. “But this might be a too many cooks scenario?”

You're not exactly good at this kind of thing. Sure, you can patch up a seam or minor tear in something, but making a Halloween costume from scratch? Just a little bit outside your wheelhouse.

“You, uh, want me to leave?” you find yourself asking, doing your damnedest to avoid pouting.

“No, no, of course not.” That sweet smile that comes so easily to her shines through. “Just stop touching things?”

Yeah, okay. Putting down the assortment of pins and threads you haphazardly have in your grip, you take just a moment to make sure nothing is tangled. From there, you pretty much just watch as she works her magic, sewing fabrics together with the skill and grace of a master. No, she doesn't make a costume for you or the rest of the girls, her sights set much smaller.

One by one little outfits take shape. An adorable little pumpkin, a spooky but friendly ghost, and what looks like a copy of Micah's military attire. A cute idea, though perhaps not one the Archangel in question will approve of.

Generic hums to herself as she pauses for a spell, naturally looking your way as you break her train of thought.

“Problem?” you ask, closing the distance now she's no longer in work mode. She hardly minds, groaning ever so slightly as you rub her shoulders.

“Do you think they may be too little for costumes?” she asks, leaning into your massage.

“I think,” you begin, taking only a moment to actually linger on the question. “You can always get a head-start on next year if they are.”

“They'd be awfully generic costumes.”

“Nothing wrong with generic,” you point out, silencing her with a peck on the cheek.

Nothing wrong at all.

Chapter Text

Chores are done for the day. Well, at least until Pandemonica's next coffee. Decaf for the time-being. Now you get to relax for a spell.

Fortunately, not alone, Azazel reclining on the sofa as she reads a book. Given the cover is blacked out, you assume it's something on loan from Modeus. Considerate, given the household now has children around. Even if they can't read yet.

“This seat taken?” you playfully ask, ready to simply sit by your adorable, Angel wife.

“That depends,” she answers, peaking out from behind her book, cheeks pink. “What is it worth to you?”

“Azazel?”

She can't help but chuckle, letting the book drop and show off her cute face in full. “Sorry! Zdrada's informed me I should never give anything away for free.”

Of course, she has. “Well, what are you charging?”

Placing a finger on her chin, she looks up towards the ceiling as she hums in thought. Then, struck by the very answer, she sits up straight, clearing her throat. “One kiss, please.”

Such a modest fee. One you'll gladly pay.

Taking the seat, she closes her eyes as she faces you. The seconds tick on by as you inch in teasingly slow, her nose twitching as she finally feels your breath. Your lips meet, arms wrapping around her as you push her down to the sofa. How easily she understands, legs wrapping around you as your tongue slips into her mouth. Tasting sweeter than sugar, short breaths grow heavier the longer you remain. Yet, as you try to pull away, she holds you still, only relenting when your lungs struggle.

Gasping for air as you pull away, you chuckle almost immediately.

“Get a room,” Malina mumbles as she stares right at the pair of you.

“Y-you did not need to watch,” Azazel reminds her, out of breath as she squirms beneath you. “Unless you want to?”

There's more than one way to relax, getting off the horny Angel and lifting her to her feet. You practically drag her from the room, rushing upstairs, all the while Malina follows you, grumbling about something even as she slips into the room with you...

Chapter Text

“Do you really need me for this?” you ask, promptly shushed.

“Stealth is of utmost importance,” Azazel whispers, earning a silent nod from Judgement.

Alright, fine, you can understand Azazel taking this so seriously, but Judgement? You should probably just be happy no one else got roped into this. Keeping your eyes on Azazel, you watch as she holds up three fingers. Two. One.

Go! Go! Go!

Jumping up from your stealthy, squatting position, you briskly walk towards the target. Namely, Micah.

“Good afternoon,” she comments, not breaking her stride as she keeps heading towards the kitchen.

“Hey, Micah,” you greet, stopping her in her tracks as you brush her shoulder with your hand. “Got a minute?”

Looking you in the eye, you're almost taken aback as all she does is quirk a brow. A quick glance over your shoulder, and you spy Judgement and Azazel, both poorly hiding behind houseplants. Houseplants that didn't exist until today, just as a little cherry on top of the foolishness of this plan.

“Dare I ask?” Micah finally speaks, more amusement than anything else in her tone.

“Probably better not to,” you confess. “Mind letting me distract you for five minutes?”

You chalk it up to Azazel being such a good egg, Micah agreeing with little fuss. The gremlin-like giggles from the pair hardly fill you with ease as you lead the Archangel away. Come to think of it, she sits awfully close once you reach the peace and quiet of the living room.

Honestly, that last slice of apple pie better be worth it. Rescuing Micah from her cravings, Azazel just couldn't admit to the allure of Justice's baking, you're certain...

Chapter Text

It feels wrong.

The music is pleasant. The guests, wealthy as they are, seem normal enough. Plenty even congratulated you on landing such a catch. The food? Oh, the food is simply divine, ironic, considering.

No, the part you don't like is being forced into an all black suit two sizes too small and having your arm linked with a woman who is firmly not your wife. You should know, you have enough of them.

“Such a sour expression,” Baphomet notes, a hint of chiding behind her tone. “Are you secretly Malina infiltrating my party?”

Naturally, you force a smile. “Sorry, just feeling out of place.”

You grunt as she grabs you playfully by the chin, sliding her hand up to squeeze your cheek. Dressed in purple in a style reminiscent of a certain giant vampire that both haunts nightmares and wet-dreams alike, Baphomet really does look gorgeous. Yet, all you can think of is how Beelzebub would fill out such a dress just as nicely.

“Playing sugar-baby that revolting of a thought?” she asks with a pout, hand finally retreating.

“Sorry, I don't mean to ruin your night.” Now your thoughts drift to Lucifer and her damn silver-tongue. If you didn't love her so much, you might be scared of what she might be able to convince you to do.

Baphomet heaves a sigh. “Understood. Loyal husband of royalty and all that. Just put on a smile for the guests, and I'll return you to your harem unsullied.”

“Thanks,” you offer, even as you narrow your eyes.

She wasn't really planning on going that far, right?

Chapter Text

You're not entirely sure how this came about, but you really don't mind it. Sitting at a long dining table in your back garden, you pat your heft pumpkin as you consider what exactly you'll carve. To the left of you, Octavia and Loona have already 'gutted' their vegetables. To the right, Krampus and Cerberus are already carving away. Cerberus seems intent on drawing her sworn enemy with bones littered around. Krampus, however, is beginning to carve the outline of a familiar skeleton. At least, they feel familiar.

As for the rest of the house. Well, Pandemonica is having some fun with Zdrada in her lap, cuddling her as she cradles the most recent addition to the house. Lucifer, Beelzebub and Justice all share laughter and drinks, their own babes in a specially made play-pen not a foot away. Stolas and you want to say Blitzy? The largest of the imps that ambushed you long ago and father of Loona, they share in the drinks, if more reserved as they laugh. Though, Blitzy keeps shooting daggers your way.

Azazel is eagerly taking notes of the competition itself, humming to herself as does her best not to get in the way. Baphomet is likewise hovering near, keeping an eye on Krampus. Though, it feels as if she's not quite as happy to be here as she usually is.

Judgement almost looks as if she wants to join in, something holding her back. Right now, she keeps shooting glances towards the pumpkins, then to Justice. A smile tugs at her lips as she occasionally gazes Zdrada's way. As for Micah, well, she seems to be on guardian duty, reading a book as she sits beside the playpen filled with half-demon babies. Curiously, Malina is nowhere to be seen, likely playing games. What's odder is the missing Modeus. Likely overly-pampering Oz, you can't exactly fault her.

“Honestly,” a familiar voice has your ears perking up. Soft breasts and a forming bump press up against your back, arms resting over your shoulder and down against your chest as she leans in. “Why did you enter if you don't have any ideas?”

“We had five pumpkins, Gen',” you point out, giving the vegetable in question a tap. “Besides, it's more a case of too much inspiration.”

“Oh?”

“I can't fit everyone on here even if I was Da Vinci himself.”

At that, Generic chuckles, placing a loving kiss on your cheek. “How about a self-portrait?”

Your turn to chuckle, careful not to knock her as you shake your head. “Who'd want that?”

“Seriously?” she can't help but tease, lips against your ear. “Remember how many of us married you.”

“Still feels like a dream.”

Ouch.

She pinched you. Way harder than necessary, too...

Chapter Text

Malina's arms are firmly around your waist, cheek against your chest as she nuzzles close. The sudden downpour has you hiding in a bus shelter, waiting out the worst of the storm.

Of course, you freak her out as you chuckle.

“What's the joke?” she asks, barely pulling against your grip. Just enough so she's able to look up at you, chin against you in place of her cheek.

“Remember, not long after you confessed to a certain someone?” you ask back, giving her a playful squeeze.

“What are you-” she begins, tensing as she groans. “You remember shit like that?”

“You were so cute about it. Avoiding breakfast, buying cutesy games just to play with her, running to the mall to get a limited edition-”

Ah, silence. Truly earned as she forces her lips against yours. Less romantic, more demanding, she stops just shy of slipping in her tongue as she pulls away, taking a deep breath all the while.

“Shut up. I was dumb, alright. Don't remind me.”

Silence, filled only by the constant patter of rains. At least, for a spell.

“We had to wait for almost an hour back then,” you muse, her tail flicking as you speak. “In my arms, like this.”

This memory she likes, sighing as she sinks into you, not a peep as your hand lowers, cupping her rear. Best not let Modeus ever hear about these moments...

Chapter Text

God, it's been a long day. Making pancakes. Working out with Judgement. A little gaming with Malina. Codling Zdrada and your precious baby. Massaging Generic. Tangling with Cerberus as she brings a life squirrel into the house. Playing with Jez and Kaz. Honestly, it feels as if you've not stopped for even a moment.

So, you can't help but appreciate your bed as you sit on the very edge. In nothing but your pyjamas, you stretch. More than a few creaks in your bones, your muscles at least feel all the better for it. Satisfied, you simply flop back, groaning in delight as you enjoy your soft bed.

“Long day?” Lucifer asks with amusement, letting herself into your room. Ah, who are you kidding, it's basically communal these days.

“Not at all,” you promise, smiling as you feel her weight beside you. “Just tired.”

“Usually, that means you've been busy,” she points out with a sigh, the lights going out as she places an inferno monitor beside the bed. “Let me ease you into sleep.” She whispers so damn close to your ear, you shudder.

It's only as she presses into you her nudity is reveals. Soft, buxom breasts squishing as she wraps arms and legs around you, an intimate embrace by any measure.

“H-harlot!” an accusatory tone fills the room.

A moment later, you grunt.

Modeus' face is mere inches from your own, lewd breaths hitting your mouth as she holds herself back from a kiss. Her tail wags a mile a minute as she smothers her chest against your own. Oh, how she purrs, just as nude as the queen of Hell herself.

“I-Is Oz going to be okay-” you begin, shushed as she grinds, much to Lucifer's annoyance.

“Generic's got him.”

“You really shouldn't pawn off so much work on her,” Beelzebub chastises, floating casually into the room. Cute, innocent buzzes grow louder as she approaches, her own monitor being put beside Lucifer's before she too slides in. “She'll have her own spawn soon enough.”

“S-she didn't mind!”

“Of course not. Such a maternal Demon,” Beelzebub explains, voice nice and soft as she sneaks in close. Mirroring Lucifer to perfection, her nude frame presses against your side.

“Ladies,” you begin, heart pounding harder than during pretty much any task today. “I'm glad you're here, but-”

“Ah shit, it's full,” Malina grumbles from the doorway. A peek is all you need to spy Judgement looking over her shoulder, pouting.

“A moment,” Lucifer responds, raising her hand. A click of her fingers is all she needs, the bed doubling in size. “There.”

Sure enough, in come the loving couple. They struggle more than the others, prime positions taken. Of course, Modeus is all too happy to slide down, lips brushing against your crotch as Malina gets on top of you. Busty as ever, she's more than happy to smother you with them. Judgement is a tad more reserved, almost timid as Beelzebub lets her rest between the pair of you. Hard compared to everyone else's soft bodies, you feel safe even as your warmth grows.

“Oh, this is where everyone went?” Justice asks, not bothering to keep her voice down. “Got room for me and the kid?”

“For fuck's sake,” Lucifer mumbles, only to grow quiet as your shared lover gets between you. Spooned by the CEO of Hell and letting Belle get settled, even Modeus chills out.

If only that was the end of it, a curious Angel all too happy to join you in the pile of Demons. Only a lonely Archangel left out of affairs by the time slumber finally claims you...

Chapter Text

You're not entirely sure what to make of the peppy, young Angel standing at your door. With shoulder-length raven hair and humming a tune to herself, she stands to attention as she realizes you're staring.

“Oh, afternoon sir!” she greets, reminding you a little too much of Azazel in her early days. “Sariel reporting for duty!”

“Um, hi,” you greet in kind, feeling underdressed in a simple shirt and trousers compared to her spotless uniform. “Wait, what duty?”

She doesn't miss a beat, grabbing her satchel and lifting it. “Communications for the Archangel, mostly. One is for liaison Azazel.” Suddenly, she turns impish with a short chuckle. “Sorry, nothing for you.”

Why would-no, never mind. “You want to come in and see her or do you trust me to hand them off?”

“You'll pass them on? Really?” She comes off as sceptical, despite her constant smile.

When you nod, she reaches into her satchel, retrieving four letters. She probably could have clarified the whole thing wasn't for her. Still, she hands the sealed letters to you, three for Micah, one for Azazel. Taking them, you make sure she knows their in safe hands, nodding and waving as she retreats, a familiar, white light seeing her home.

Now, where's Micah at this time of day? Probably in her room. Heading towards it, you're almost disappointed you don't bump into Azazel on the way, hand hovering by Micah's door as you here a commotion inside.

“A perfect counter charge,” she mutters. “Exactly as I expected, TruDemon.”

As Micah chuckles to herself, you knock on the door. Barely a moment passes before she responds.

“Enter.”

Letting yourself in, her room is as prim and proper as usual. It's almost odd to see her sitting at her desk, eyes glued to the screen as she clicks away at her mouse, free hand darting around her keyboard.

“One moment,” she states, typing something before letting out a breath. Slowly, she spins in her chair, aiming it at you. “We have five minutes, what do you need?”

“Mail,” you explain simply, handing her the three letters.

“A heavenly seal?” she muses, eyeing the golden wax keeping the topmost letter safe. “Curious. How is it you-”

“Met Sariel at the door.”

“Sariel? I was unaware she was a messenger these days.” How easily she shrugs. “You have my thanks, these are likely important documents.”

“Any time. Enjoy your game!”

As you just about turn away, she stops you with a clearing of her throat. A glance reveals her cheeks showing signs of pink, her feet shuffling as she turns back to the screen.

“Perhaps, if you're not too busy. You'd care to watch for a spell?” she asks, suddenly focused entirely on her game, which is still very much paused.

“I'd love to,” you admit, her smile widening. “But, I need to hand this to Azazel first.”

She nods. “Understandable. Another time, then.”

Huh? “Um, can I not just come back when I'm done?”

She bites her lip, yet straightens up all the same. “Y-yes. You can absolutely do that!”

Oh, the games back in full-force, the allotted time-limit apparently up. You don't want to miss too much of the action, intent of returning post-hate. First, Azazel's letter!

Chapter Text

Evil.

Lucifer Morningstar. CEO/Queen of Hell. Your wife and the mother of your child. She's pure evil.

A fact you come to realize as the moment you slip into bed, she cackles. Freezing cold hands press into your back, a chill running down your spine as you gasp. The way her arms wrap lovingly around you, keeping you in her grip as she kisses your neck can hardly rectify the bone-chilling tingles still shooting through you.

Though, it certainly helps. A playful nuzzle even having you keep your horrid thoughts you yourself.

“Mine,” she purrs, things quickly turning sordid...

Chapter Text

Malina has the biggest shit-eating grin on her face as she stands beside the stereo. A lone finger hovers over the play button, her tail idly swishing back and forth.

“You'll thank me at some point,” she explains.

If Micah's face wasn't beet red, you're sure she'd stare daggers at the young Demon. “When next I best you, be assured my revenge will be cold and bitter.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Malina dismisses with a casual wave of her hand. “You're rocking the suit, by the way.”

She really does. Not something out Lucifer's wardrobe, an all black affair. Shirt buttoned up and a tight-fitting jacket, the only splash of colour is the white handkerchief in her breast pocket. Come to think of it, you really should ask.

“So, why is all the furniture pushed to one side, and why did Micah ask me here?” you ask, the Archangel in question mumbling something. “The, uh, suit does look good.”

“Short version: I finally beat my nemesis cleanly in Civ!” Malina begins, pride in her tone as Micah stoically endures. “When we found out we'd be sharing a roof, kind of, she promised a reward if I ever did.” With the single slip of her finger, music plays. A classic waltz, at that. “Time to dance you two!”

“But why would-” you begin, shutting up as Micah extends her hand, even as she averts her gaze.

“Consider it payback for Judgement.”

You barely have the equilibrium to consider her words, taking Micah's offered hand like its second nature. The music remains calm, feet moving to the rhythm as she suddenly leans in. Her free hand finds your waist, yours her shoulder. So close, your mind's a blur as you start swaying in time with her.

“Perhaps I should lead?” Micah asks, hand rising from your hip as she takes over.

Relinquishing control entirely, you follow her steps. Left, then right, your feet mingle as she steers you around the room. Small circles as your step compliment one another. The music may as well not exist, even as it swells, you simply let Micah guide you. It only emboldens her, leaning in close as she treats you with care, dipping you slightly. You're reminded just how strong everyone is, not so much as a hint of strain as she holds your weight.

Yanking you back, she's a little to forceful, stumbling as you knock into her.

“Shit, sor-”

She laughs. A deep, rumbling laugh you've never heard from her. The music fades, coming to a stop as she settles down, wrapping you in an embrace as she pats you on the back.

“You are a treat on the dance floor. Though, I should have guessed given-” she suddenly stops, pulling away as she stands to at ease, arms behind her back and clearing her throat. “That is, you're not a novice dancer. Forfeit as it may have been, you were enjoyable.”

“Micah,” you begin, her smile followed by slight bow disarming you.

“Have a pleasant day.” Her eyes flick to Malina. “You best not lose our next match, for I can be quite inventive when revenge is concerned.”

Malina huffs. “Isn't that a sin?”

In the blink of an eye, Micah is no more than an inch from her, noses almost touching. “Not in the slightest.”

Just like that, she leaves, halo almost brighter than before.

“Damn. Think Judgement would get mad if I took a shot?”

“Without permission, definitely,” you answer honestly, tutting as you shake your head. “I don't think Micah would appreciate anyone hitting on her.”

Malina's side-eye is damn near lethal. “You really only have your sights on Demons, huh?”

“Hey,” you warn, albeit in good fun. “Azazel's just as much a part of the family.”

“Just an idiot, then.”

Playing dumb has never felt so exhausting, letting her grab you by the wrist.

“Come on, I wanna see if Judgement has an Angel uniform,” Malina notes, lust more evident than Modeus at her most depraved.

As if you'll complain, falling in line at the drop of a hat.

Chapter Text

You've never been more happy to have Justice standing between you and another of your wives. Several, if one wants to be cute about it. Cerberus practically growls at you, two of her forms crouched, ready to pounce. The other holds a cold look in her eyes, as if you kicked mud at her or some other heinous crime.

“Whoa, girls. Getting some bad vibes here,” Justice notes, calm and composed despite being before a ravenous Cerberus.

“So many babies.” “Liar!” “No puppies,” Cerberus voices her grievances, tails rigid and ears primed back.

“Guess you would get all broody,” Justice notes, idly looking over her shoulder. She steals your heart, sending it aflutter as she pulls down her shades, shooting a wink as if to say she's got this. “Nothing personal, girls,” Justice begins, focusing on the irate Triple Demon. “We've got to space them out, make life easier for everyone involved. Between surprises and weirdly long pregnancies, you've just had some bad luck.”

“And?” “Still a liar!” “He promised,” Cerberus sulks, her anger giving way to sorrow.

“Easy pup. Let's make a deal, okay?”

At that, the three bodies perk up. Well, they don't look ready to tear you to shreds any more, that is.

“Generic or Pan' will pop next. When they do, then you can break the big guys hips and knock yourself up, alright?”

“Wait, no breaking-” you begin, silenced by a gaggle of sensual chuckles.

“Deal!” “Twenty-four hour bed-breaking!” “Puppies...” Weirdly, that last one comes as the most threatening of the three.

Justice naturally takes credit for a job well done, steering you away from the fantasizing Triple Demon. Still, you should be a little thankful for the stay of execution, even if your bones already ache at the thought alone...

Chapter Text

There is absolutely no way this is happening. Standing by the door in nothing but a hoodie far too big is Zdrada. She has Zaufanie in one arm, the other stashed in the oversized pockets. Honestly, she's never looked hotter. Unfortunately, there's a question to be asked.

It's almost cute how she perks up on your approach, smile naturally spreading as she takes a deep breath.

“Is, uh, that my hoodie?” you ask, her smile faltering for a split second at most.

The silence is palpable, despite her casual, contemplating hum. “No?”

“Zdrada-”

“Oh, fuck off. I've only ever seen you in that suit of yours,” she points out, Zaufanie's high-pitched babbling prompting her to gently rock her babe.

That's rich, considering everyone's favourite suits. Still, you bite back a sigh. After all, she's your loving wife, all warm and toasty thanks to your hoodie. Which, you have to admit, you never really wear.

“I'm not bothered,” you confess, a hand on her hip as you lean in close. “It, uh, looks good on you.”

“Yeah?” she asks, almost growling. “Guess what looks better?”

You almost dread to ask, holding back from leaning in too hard, free hand helping her keep Zaufanie steady. “No idea.”

Her tail flicks, suddenly wrapping around your wrist. A gentle tug, steering it away, letting her lift the hoodie. Nothing. She wears absolutely nothing from the waist down, cheeks pink as she sways her hips.

“Think aunt Azazel can look after-”

Zdrada doesn't get to finish her question, lips against hers in a tame kiss. By her standards at least. Parting after mere seconds, her natural taste lingers, each breath filled her neutral scent. A stark contrast to the nicotine you're so used to.

“Aunty's gonna be busy,” Zdrada purrs, leading the charge in tracking down the Angel.

Hardly suspecting the motivation being your mutual lust, she's all too happy to earn a few more best aunt points...

Chapter Text

Honestly, you feel like a nice, average family. Wait, scratch that. This set-up is still very much weird. Beelzebub clings to one arm, Lucifer the other. Justice walks on the other side of her, not quite linked but not far off. To top it off, Micah is here too. Not for romance's sake, Heaven forbid. No, she simply wishes to observe your growing brood as they mingle with humans.

Speaking of; Jez, Kaz and Poly babble to one another, comfortably tucked into the stroller you push. A custom, Hellish job summoned in a joint effort by their mothers. Neither was quite willing to accept the assistance of the other, after all. The more things change and all that. Belle, on the other hand, is comfortably in her mother's arms, the main reason Justice isn't tied to Lucifer's hip.

“I must say,” Beelzebub begins, nuzzling your shoulder as you walk. “There are more games than I would have imagined at this fair.” Just like that, her tone turns accusatory. “How is it you've never brought me before?”

Honestly, you just never took her for the type. “I can only apologize. I'll do better.”

It earns a giggle, one that tickles you in that special sort of way.

Oh, never mind. It's Beel's hand sliding down your back, stopping just shy of copping a feel.

“I jest, darling,” she purrs.

“It seems you're not the only one intrigued, fly,” Lucifer notes, the four of you coming to a stop as you spy Micah approaching a stall.

Darts and cards. A simple game by any stretch, though still firmly rigged. Three darts, beat the score and win a prize. You're not the only one surprised when Micah smirks, handing over cash to the stall's owner. Watching in wonder, you flinch as she flings a dart at lightning speed.

Thud!

It connects, the ace of hearts firmly hit. She repeats the masterful act, the ace of spade followed by the ace of clubs all facing the same fate. Smugness radiates from the glorious Archangel, a light bow of her head the only sign of humbleness as she's handed a teddy-bear as big as her chest.

“Wonderful,” she muses, giving the toy a firm hug. “Still, what am I to do with such a cumbersome thing?”

“Why did she play is she didn't want it?” Beelzebub asks in a whisper, stiffening as Micah's steely gaze lands on her.

“I know,” Micah begins, a smile on her lips as she approaches. “Consider it a gift,” she declares, offering the toy to you.

It's tough to accept, mostly due to Lucifer and Beelzebub refusing to release you. Yet, they relent, and you take the teddy from her. It really is quite large, mercifully not heavy.

“Thanks,” you respond after a moment, Micah's cheeks reddening by the second. “Very sweet of you.”

Before Micah can respond, Beelzebub releases you fully, stepping away as she approaches a different game, the ring toss. “A-allow me to win you something as well,” she notes, using your money to pay for a game.

Lucifer huffs, but it just as excited as she parts from you, heading towards a coconut shy. “Not before me, she won't!”

“Damn, girl,” Justice comments, cuddling Belle close as she chuckles. “You flirting has them all fired up.”

“I was not-” Micah begins, promptly falling quiet as Beelzebub growls.

“You dare swindle me!”

Alright, time for you to step in. As annoying as rigged fair games are, you shouldn't let Beelzebub unleash any tentacles in public...

Chapter Text

You should know better than to lower your guard, simply lounging about in the living room as you do. No sooner are you minding your own business, lost in blissfully empty thoughts, do you grunt, a weight in your lap. Modeus' eager movements have her teasing you most devilishly, cushioned behind grinding against your crotch.

“Listen!” she declares, something slipping into your ear as she squishes her cheek against yours.

A soft, calm beat. Thunk-thunk. Thunk-thunk. Just a hint of something rushing beneath it. Whatever it is, Modeus' cheeks burn crimson, hot as she begins panting, tail wagging.

“What are we listening to?” you ask, the mystery object in your ear finally apparent.

“I recorded Oz's heartbeat,” she explains, shuddering at her words. “Isn't it adorable?”

Not the word you'd use, but it is oddly comforting. So, you nod, suddenly squeezed in a tight embrace, the white cables of her headphones entangling as she gets all hot and bothered.

“We should make another one,” she purrs, not amount of squirming freeing you from her as she unbuttons your shirt.

Ah, several chains wrap around her with a dull clank, a squeak of terror replacing the hum of horniness as she's pulled off you.

“Love you, Judgement,” you find yourself saying on instinct, shuddering as powerful arms drape over your shoulders, a brief peck hitting your cheek.

“You really need to be more careful,” Judgement explains, all too happy to nuzzle as Modeus is whisked away to the punishment sofa.

Maybe you should come up with a new form of admonishment. After all, your children might get the wrong idea if they see Modeus or Cerberus tied in chains a little too often...

Chapter Text

Close to midnight, the credits roll on the generic as can be action film. The hero got the girl, posing half-naked as he stands over his defeated foes. Truly a fairytale ending, if one is inclined towards that sort of thing. What you dwell on most is your stiff muscles, having lounged on the sofa the entire time, moving only for a sip of water.

The cause of that still rests her head on your shoulder, smile on her lips as she reads the names of all those involved in the project. Slowly, you move, hints of a grunt slipping from Micah as you do. Still, she doesn't object, sitting upright at a moment's notice.

Free, you get to your feet, stretching your legs and suppressing your annoyance at the slight click of your knees. Dammit, you're not that old! There's no denying the world of good it does you, hints of aches fading with the simple act. Next up, your arms, stretching high and loosening your back while you're at it. No cracks this time, just the satisfaction of a good, limbering stretch.

“Alright,” you begin softly, hints of a yawn slipping out with the word. “I think I should call it a night.”

Micah tilts her head, that smile of hers flickering into a frown for half a beat. Curious, yet not half as much as when she reaches out to you. A moment of madness? She tugs at the bottom of your shirt, and you naturally step closer.

“Stay?” she asks, voice so quiet you strain to hear over the closing credits. “Just a little longer?” A bold request, tugging at your heart as she averts her eyes.

Gently, you remove her hand, holding it as you take your seat anew. Opening your arm out wide, you wrap it around her shoulders, pulling her close. Before, she rested on your shoulder, now her cheek is against your chest. What's more, she doesn't fight it, sighing in bliss as the film truly comes to a close.

So warm, so tender. There will be no more playing dumb after tonight...