The smell of sweat and sex hung heavy in the room, mingling with the golden glow of the early morning sun that bled through Ella's half-drawn curtains. We were caught in that liminal space between night and day, lost in each other in a way that made time seem irrelevant. Ella's usually sweet, church-going demeanour was gone, replaced by a fierce, almost feral energy that had kept her moving long past exhaustion. I'd never imagined she could have such a ravenous, unrelenting appetite.
Ella's slender legs straddled my hips, her thighs gripping me with a desperate need as she rode me in a slow, languid rhythm, her movements both deliberate and fuelled by sheer willpower. My hips rocked with her, responding to every moan that escaped her lips, each sound pulling me deeper into this haze of lust. Her nails raked across my chest, leaving faint red lines that mixed with the fading bruises from battles past, as if she was marking me as hers, even if just for now.
I pulled her closer, taking one of her pert nipples into my mouth, grazing it with my teeth, and she let out a guttural moan that sent a shiver down my spine. Her back arched, pushing her chest further against me, the sensation of her slick skin and soft curves igniting something primal within me.
"Fuck, Ammon," she gasped, her voice trembling as she leaned back, her movements slowing just slightly. Despite the obvious fatigue weighing on her, she didn't stop. She was determined, insatiable. I could feel the heat building between us, her body clenching around me as she rode that thin line between pleasure and exhaustion.
Unable to hold back any longer, she slid off me and flipped onto her stomach with a catlike grace, her messy hair spilling across the sheets. Without hesitation, she took me into her mouth, her lips and tongue working with a fervour that made my head spin. She moved with a practiced confidence, her throat swallowing me in deep, rhythmic pulses that had me on the edge of losing control.
I watched, entranced by the sight of her, by the way her eyes flickered with a mix of hunger and satisfaction as she devoured me. It was raw, messy, and utterly addictive. My hands tangled in her hair, guiding her as she brought me closer and closer to the breaking point. When I finally came, it was with a sharp, ragged groan that tore from my chest, my entire body tensing as she took every last drop without missing a beat.
Ella pulled back, her lips glistening as she released me with a satisfied smile, and I collapsed beside her, still half-hard, the intensity of it all refusing to fully fade. She sprawled out on the bed, her limbs splayed like she'd just finished a marathon, her chest rising and falling with heavy, exhausted breaths.
"How are you still ready to go?" she mumbled, her voice muffled as she buried her face in the pillow, her body radiating both exhaustion and a strange, satisfied contentment. She draped an arm lazily over my thigh, her touch light but possessive.
I grinned, tracing my fingers along her spine, feeling the heat of her skin. "Can you blame me? I've got a beautiful woman next to me." I grabbed a handful of her firm, petite ass, pulling her closer. She let out a soft, sleepy laugh, curling into my side as if she could find some solace there.
"I would if you hadn't already used that line before sunrise," she teased, her words slurred with drowsiness but still sharp enough to land. Her breath was warm against my neck, and the way she snuggled against me felt dangerously comfortable. Too comfortable.
I chuckled, running my fingers through the tangled mess of her hair. "What can I say? I'm built different." The line was stupid, one of those things you throw out when adrenaline and lust have taken over, but it had made her laugh earlier in the night. Now, she just settled in closer, her smile hidden against my skin, and I couldn't help but wonder what the hell I was doing.
Was this just another way to distract myself? Another futile attempt to lose myself in someone else's heat and drown out the chaos that constantly lurked in my mind? I was supposed to be untouchable, a half-demon assassin who drew people in and spit them out when it suited me. But wrapped up in this post-coital haze, with Ella clinging to me like I was something more than just another reckless fuck, it felt like there was more to this. Or at least more than I was willing to admit.
Ella's breathing slowed as she drifted off, and I stared at the ceiling, tracing idle patterns on her back. Maybe it was okay to just exist in this moment, to hold on to something fleeting and pretend it was enough, even if only for a little while. Because eventually, the sun would rise fully, and the real world would come knocking. And I'd have to figure out what the hell came next.
But for now, this was enough.
The next morning… oh wait, it's the same morning, and a shower later.
I was caught off guard by Lucifer's shit-eating grin as he sipped his coffee, enjoying the ongoing banter between Maze and me. Maze, always ready to prod and poke at my ego, zeroed in on me the moment I walked in.
"You've got a hickey on your neck," she said, her voice dripping with smug satisfaction, as if she'd caught me in some scandalous act.
I sliced the breakfast sandwich I'd made in half and slid it onto the table between the devil and his demon consort. "No, I don't," I shot back, maintaining a calm demeanour. But I knew Maze; she wasn't done yet. I watched her take a bite, waiting for just the right moment. "Ella didn't suck on my neck." Her eyes widened, and I didn't give her a chance to respond. "Yeah, she sucked dick. Well done, Mum."
Maze looked annoyed that I beat her to the punch, and with her mouth still full she opened it up again.
Meanwhile, Lucifer, never one to miss a beat, joined in with a faux-disappointed sigh. "Honestly, Ammon, you take all the fun out of it. Shame on you."
Maze flipped both middle fingers at us before snatching Lucifer's half of the sandwich and sauntering off, chewing with triumphant defiance.
"Real mature, Mazey," Lucifer called after her, dripping with mock indignation. Then he turned those hopeful, expectant eyes on me, the kind that said he was about to ask for a favour.
I sighed, shaking my head as I grabbed the skillet. "How is it that the Devil himself can't cook to save his life?"
Lucifer shrugged, unapologetic. "I've got other talents."
I rolled my eyes, setting to work on breakfast. Cooking for the Devil was starting to feel like just another routine, another bizarre corner of this strange life I'd carved out in L.A. And somehow, it was beginning to feel almost normal.
Madam Xanadu's smirk was the kind that could drive a saint to sin, and I could see why Kent always warned me about her. But lately, I'd been struggling to figure out why I was constantly horny. Maybe it was Pamela who'd opened the floodgates, showing me just how wild things could get. Or maybe it was Ella's insatiable energy that left me feeling like sex was just another part of daily life. Then there was Maze and Lucifer, pushing every boundary, tempting me to indulge in every sinful pleasure they could dangle in front of me.
But this was different. This was Madam Xanadu. With her ageless beauty and sly demeanor, she could twist me around her finger without even trying. Every glance felt like it held a promise, and every touch of her fingers on her lips seemed like an invitation to something forbidden. She exuded an effortless, otherworldly allure that played on my frayed self-control, making me wonder if I'd ever be able to focus on anything else when she was in the room.
"Ammon, I've got a job for you." Her voice was smooth, a little teasing, and somehow both commanding and playful. She leaned on the séance table, her fingers tracing lazy patterns along the edge, grazing her lips in a way that made it hard not to stare. She knew exactly how to wind me up with minimal effort, and the fact that she could do it so easily was infuriating. But also hot.
I tried to keep my thoughts straight, forcing myself to ignore the tempting images that flashed through my mind. I had some control, at least enough not to get myself killed by chasing every lustful thought. Well, mostly. Xanadu's reputation wasn't just about her powers; she knew how to read people, and she'd definitely clocked my interest. Maybe that's why she enjoyed toying with me, because she could see just how close I was to losing my cool around her.
"You know, I'm starting to think you just like having me around," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. Her knowing smile made it clear she wasn't fooled, and I mentally kicked myself for sounding like a schoolboy with a crush.
"Don't flatter yourself, Ammon," she replied, her voice a velvet purr that sent shivers down my spine. "But if you're so eager, I have something that requires your… unique talents." Her eyes lingered on me for just a moment too long, and it took everything in me not to squirm under her gaze.
I knew the routine by now. She ran her bounties through Maze and Lucifer first, and only the jobs they approved landed in my lap. The magical community in LA tolerated the duo, but it was a lot like a mouse tolerating a cat, there was an unspoken understanding that you didn't cross the line unless you wanted to end up on the wrong side of things. No hellspawn or demons came my way. They were keeping me out of the bigger, more dangerous loops, like I was some kind of secret they weren't ready to reveal just yet.
But today, things felt different. As I picked up the bounty details, my gut twisted. A rogue angel, tearing through the supernatural world like a scythe through wheat, attacking indiscriminately with a fury that set the entire magical community on edge. The kind of chaos that screamed something bigger was in play.
"An angel?" I asked, feeling a knot tighten in my chest. "Who placed the bounty?"
Xanadu's smirk softened, but her eyes were sharp, watching my reaction. "The sources aren't exactly reputable, but they're desperate. This angel's been cutting down anyone with a touch of magic. And you, Ammon, have just the right mix of abilities to get close without getting instantly smote."
I glanced at the parchment, the ancient script swirling with ominous details. This all stank of Lucifer's handiwork, too specific, too messy. Like he was setting up some elaborate game that I was only now being invited to play. What the hell was he playing at? And why was I being sent after an angel?
"You're using me as bait," I muttered, more to myself than to Xanadu, but she caught it and laughed, a melodic sound that didn't quite reach her eyes.
"You're quick," she said, tapping a nail against her lips thoughtfully. "But this isn't just about you, Ammon. This is bigger than any of us. And you're not the only one who needs answers."
I pocketed the details, my mind already racing with the implications. Rogue angels, secret deals, and the feeling that I was a pawn on a board I couldn't even see. Whatever Lucifer was up to, it was pulling me deeper into his world, and right into the path of something far more dangerous than any bounty I'd taken on before.
As I turned to leave, Madam Xanadu's voice lingered behind me, soft and teasing. "Be careful, Ammon. You might just find that the answers you're looking for come at a price you're not ready to pay."
Her words hung heavy in the air, but I couldn't help the thrill that shot through me. Whatever was coming, I'd face it head-on. And if it meant diving deeper into the underbelly of this supernatural shitshow, then so be it.
Because whatever the Devil was planning, I was going to make damn sure I wasn't just a piece on his board.
POV Shift
This was hell. But if that's what it was, so be it. She was no victim, no damned soul trapped in eternal torment, she was the reaper, and her wings were her scythe.
Life had been painfully normal before all of this. Loving parents, a regular school life, the typical teenage dreams fuelled by movies, music, and superheroes. She was just a girl until that one bad day turned her world inside out. Now, all she saw were monsters hiding in plain sight, veiled behind false faces and deceptive smiles. With her newfound abilities, she could see past their façades and into the filth of their souls. No grey, no redeeming light, just pure darkness.
Humans were flawed, their souls marred with black stains that mixed with light. But vampires? They were nothing but shadows, dark and hungry, carrying the weight of their countless sins. Tonight's target was no different. As they cowered before her, there was no sign of repentance, only fear of her blade.
Elaine had been hunting for months, cutting down whatever creature crossed her path. Most fled, some fought, but it was always the same, death for death, darkness for darkness. Only today, she'd met something unexpected. Something that hit back.
The wall she'd been slammed into cracked under her weight, and she pushed herself up, unfurling her wings in a blinding display of defiance. The creature before her, hooded and shadowed, stood its ground, neither intimidated nor impressed. She tried to read him, to see the truth beneath the layers, and what she found stopped her cold.
His soul was unlike anything she'd seen before. The black swirled, alive and vicious, a storm of sin and darkness. But it wasn't alone. White light moved alongside it, serene and steady, dancing with the darkness in perfect harmony. It was beautiful and terrifying, a living embodiment of yin and yang. She hesitated, for the first time unsure of her next move.
"You really going to protect these beasts?" she demanded, her voice sharp but laced with uncertainty.
The hooded figure shrugged casually. "Yeah, pretty much." He jerked a thumb back at one of the vampires, a lanky, awkward guy who looked as threatening as a wet noodle. "That's Kenny. Kenny's cool."
"Kenny?" she repeated incredulously. "I was about to kill the great vampire lord… Kenny."
"Yeah, he's working on rebranding," the figure quipped, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Kenny and his clan are trying to do better. They feed on animals, donated blood only. You know, vampire veganism or whatever."
Elaine's grip tightened on her weapon. "But that doesn't erase what they've done. Their souls scream of all the lives they've taken."
"They've paid their dues," the hooded figure countered, his tone oddly gentle. "They're trying to be more than what they were born as."
She scoffed. "It's in their nature."
He looked at her with something that felt like a challenge, his eyes piercing through her anger. "What's better: to be born good or to overcome your evil nature through great effort?"
She blinked. "Did you just quote Paarthurnax at me? You're seriously quoting a dragon from Skyrim right now?" She couldn't help the laugh that escaped, a strange release of tension she hadn't realized she was holding.
He grinned, a genuine smile that softened his sharp features. "Bitch, you knew exactly where that was from, so who's the real nerd here?"
Despite the absurdity of the situation, something shifted in her. She'd been so sure of her path, so certain that her wings and newfound power were meant for one thing, to purge the darkness she saw everywhere. But now? She hesitated. These creatures were still monsters, but they were monsters trying to be better. And this guy, whoever he was, seemed to believe in that. For the first time, she felt something other than anger guiding her actions, something dangerously close to doubt.
Before she could speak again, the guy's expression changed. His eyes flickered to something behind her, and she spun around just in time to see two imposing figures appear. Her wings flared defensively, lashing out, but one of the men, a hulking presence of pure authority, batted them away effortlessly. The other, tall and blonde with a scar running down his face, watched her carefully, his posture tense.
"Oh, great. Of course, you'd show up now," the hooded figure groaned, clearly exasperated.
"Have I introduced you to Maze's son yet?" The scarred man said in good cheer.
The tall one, who radiated an intense, angelic aura, spluttered. "Maze's son? Lucifer, you have a son we're just finding out about now?"
"Step-dad," the figure corrected, pulling back his hood to reveal a face that was… well, she'd seen a lot of pretty faces, but his was downright distracting. And worse, familiar in a way she couldn't place. Was he some kind of fallen angel? Do angels fall if they sin like they do in DxD? Because she knows what his sin was, being too damn fine… Lucifer?
"Step-dad?" Elaine echoed, feeling more lost by the second.
The scarred man sighed, sounding more amused than anything. "Amenadiel, I would never have a child without informing you all," he drawled, pointing lazily in Elaine's direction. "Unlike Michael, who's been busy fathering secret little angels."
"I'm going back to Gotham."
"Michael?"
"What?" Elaine's voice wavered, her wings instinctively pulling closer.
"Hello, Elaine," Lucifer Morningstar greeted her with a smile that was surprisingly warm for the Devil himself. There was a hint of something in his eyes, something that made her uncomfortable because she couldn't read him the way she could with others.
She clenched her jaw, grappling with the implications. "Can I go now?" The vampire, Kenny, the supposed fearsome lord of the undead, asked meekly from behind the stranger.
Lucifer didn't even look at him. "Why are you still here?"
Elaine watched as Kenny slinked away, the entire scene so surreal that she could hardly process it. This was who she was now, tangled up in a world where nothing was as it seemed. Angels, demons, and monsters trying to be human. And somewhere in the middle of it all was this infuriatingly mysterious guy who didn't fit any mold she'd seen.
She didn't know what path she was on anymore, but one thing was clear: whatever was happening now was far more complicated than any simple battle between good and evil.
And for the first time, Elaine felt the weight of her wings like a burden.
A/N - Published - 2024/08/30
Yo, thanks for all the support shown to this story.
So, the P-word question was asked, and all I can really say is that I cannot justify it with my awful publishing rate. Though I've started doing a writing project of sorts, it's early days to say if I'll consider publishing it as a book, I mean we all know my errors are numerous, so that will take a hell of a lot of editing and re-reading with dyslexic-arse.
If Ammon's overly horny arse seems a bit OCC, well, I mean he's in his late teens, on the rebound, and his influences currently are Lucifer and Maze, enough said really.
Also, I published another story, with Ammon as the main character, essentially, Kent pushed him in a portal (old man antics) and Ammon is dimension hopping his way back, all the while saving lives in his usual manner, of being a good guy that you don't want to piss off. Currently in the Boys universe. It's called 'I am Vengeance'
Anyhow, have a good one folks.