Loving Lucifer's Daughter

I burst through the ornate doors of the throne room, my fury propelling me forward like a meteor hurtling towards Earth. The familiar scent of brimstone and expensive cologne hit my nostrils, but I was too pissed to savour it.

My father, Lucifer fucking Morningstar himself, lounged on his obsidian throne like some kind of infernal playboy. His perfect eyebrows arched as I stormed towards him, my hands clenched into fists at my sides.

"Well, well. To what do I owe this dramatic entrance, my dear?" His smooth voice dripped with amusement. God, I wanted to slap that smirk right off his chiselled face.

"Cut the crap, Dad," I snarled, coming to a halt at the base of the dais. "I'm done with your bullshit."

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, fixing me with those piercing eyes that had charmed countless souls. "My, such language. What's got you in such a tizzy, Luella?"

I took a deep breath, trying to calm the inferno raging inside me. It didn't work. "I can't do this anymore," I said, my voice trembling with barely contained rage. "I can't keep living in this gilded fucking cage you call home."

My words hung in the air between us, heavy with implications. I watched emotions flicker across his face – surprise, hurt, anger – before settling into that maddeningly calm mask he always wore.

"A gilded cage?" He repeated, his tone dangerously soft. "Is that truly how you see your life here?"

I wanted to scream, to unleash all the frustration and resentment that had been building up inside me for years. Instead, I met his gaze head-on, channelling every ounce of defiance I could muster.

"What else would you call it?" I shot back. "I'm suffocating here, Dad. I need more than just endless parties and sycophantic demons. I need a real life too, real experiences. I need to find out who I am outside of your shadow."

The throne room suddenly felt too small, too confining. I could feel the weight of centuries pressing down on me, threatening to crush my spirit entirely. But I refused to back down. This was my chance to break free, and I'd be damned if I let it slip away.

Lucifer leaned forward, his piercing eyes boring into mine. "And what exactly do you want to do, Luella? What grand adventure are you so eager to embark upon?"

I faltered, the fire in my gut sputtering. Fuck. I hadn't thought that far ahead. "I don't know," I admitted, hating how small my voice sounded. "Not really. Just... something. Anything that isn't this."

My father's lips twitched, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners. "Anything? My dear, you're the Princess of Hell. The world – all worlds – are at your fingertips. And yet you stand before me, petulant as a child, with no real plan?"

His words stung, but I couldn't deny the truth in them. I paced, my heels clicking against the obsidian floor. "Maybe I don't have a fucking itemized list, but that doesn't make my feelings any less valid," I snapped. "I'm suffocating here, Dad. Can't you see that?"

I stopped, turning to face him again. The eternal flames cast flickering shadows across his face, making him look both ancient and ageless. For a moment, I caught a glimpse of the fallen angel he once was – beautiful, terrible, and infinitely sad.

"I need to find my own path," I said, softer now. "Even if I don't know where it leads yet."

Lucifer's shoulders sagged, the weight of aeons seeming to press down on him. He exhaled deeply, a sound that carried the echoes of a thousand years of regret and understanding.

"Oh, Luella," he murmured, his voice a mix of exasperation and fondness. "You are exactly like I was at your age."

I blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

He chuckled, a low, rich sound that reverberated through the throne room. "Rebellious, headstrong, desperate for something more. A caged bird longing to spread its wings." His eyes, burning with celestial fire, met mine. "I, too, once railed against the constraints of my father's kingdom."

My heart raced. This was... unexpected. "You never told me that," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

"It's not a tale I'm particularly proud of," he admitted, running a hand through his immaculate hair. "But perhaps it's time you heard it. Come, sit with me."

I hesitated for a moment, then perched on the arm of his throne. The proximity to my father, the literal Devil, should have been intimidating. Instead, I felt a strange comfort.

"I was the Lightbringer," he began, his gaze distant. "God's favourite. And yet, I felt... stifled. Trapped by rules and expectations. Sound familiar?"

I nodded, a lump forming in my throat. "So what did you do?"

A sad smile played across his lips. "I rebelled. And we both know how that turned out."

I swallowed hard, my mind reeling. "So, what? You're saying I should just suck it up and stay put?"

Lucifer laughed, a sharp bark that echoed off the obsidian walls. "Hell no, darling. I'm saying you need to be smarter than I was."

He stood, pacing before me with fluid grace. "This gilded cage, as you so eloquently put it, it's not meant to trap you. It's meant to protect you. But I see now that it's become suffocating."

I snorted. "Understatement of the millennia, Dad."

He shot me a look, half amused, half exasperated. "Watch it, little Morningstar. I'm trying to help here."

"Sorry," I muttered, not feeling sorry at all.

"Look," he said, his voice softening. "You want to spread your wings? Fine. But do it on your terms. Make a plan. Don't just storm off in a huff like I did."

I felt a flicker of hope in my chest. "You mean... you'd let me go?"

"Let you?" He raised an eyebrow. "Darling, you're 350 years old and a younger version of me. I couldn't stop you if I wanted to, just like God couldn't stop me. But yes, if you really want to leave for a while, I'll support you."

My jaw dropped. "Seriously?"

"On one condition," he added, holding up a finger.

Of course. There's always a catch. "What?"

"You keep in touch. And if you ever need me, you call. No matter what." His eyes blazed with intensity. "Promise me, Luella."

I nodded, my throat tight with emotion. "I promise, Dad."

He pulled me into a fierce hug, and for a moment, I was enveloped in the scent of brimstone and expensive cologne. "Now," he said, releasing me, "let's talk about how we're going to set you up topside. You're going to need more than just your charm to survive up there."

As we began to plan, I felt a mix of excitement and terror. The world was about to open up before me, and I had no idea what to expect. But for the first time in centuries, I felt truly free.

I locked eyes with my father, his gaze a mixture of pride and concern.

"You know," I said, trying to keep my voice light, "you can come visit me sometimes. I'll make sure to always have a bottle of hellfire whiskey ready to go."

A smile tugged at the corner of Lucifer's mouth. "Is that so?"

I nodded, feeling a lump form in my throat. "Yeah, I mean, just because I'm leaving doesn't mean I want to cut you out. You're still my dad, after all."

He reached out and squeezed my shoulder. "That would be great, Lulu. I don't want you to be a stranger, whatever happens."

I swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill. Damn, when did I become such a sap? "Maybe we could make it a monthly thing? You know, catch up, swap stories about how many souls we've corrupted?"

Lucifer chuckled, a warm sound that filled the throne room. "I'd like that. And who knows? Maybe I'll even learn a thing or two about modern temptation from you."

I grinned, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling up inside me. "Oh, I'll show you how it's done, old man. The humans won't know what hit them."

As we stood there, planning our future whiskey-fueled catch-ups, I realised that this wasn't an ending. It was a new beginning for both of us. And for the first time in centuries, I couldn't wait to see what the future held.

Two days later, I stood at the threshold of Hell, my bag packed and my heart racing. The air around me crackled with energy, the familiar scent of brimstone mingling with something new – possibility.

"Are you sure you've got everything?" Dad asked, eyeing my single suitcase with scepticism.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not moving out forever, just... exploring. Besides, I can always conjure up whatever I need, this is just a starting point in case I can't shake the humans for a little while."

He nodded, a flicker of pride in his eyes. "That's my girl. Always resourceful."

We stood there for a moment, the weight of centuries pressing down on us. I'd never been away from home for more than a few days, and now I was heading off to the human realm for an undetermined amount of time.

"You know," I started, my voice catching, "I'm gonna miss this place. The eternal flames, the screams of the damned... it's weirdly comforting."

Dad chuckled, but I could see the emotion in his eyes. "It'll all be here when you get back. Well, except maybe Dave from Accounting. His contract's up next week."

I laughed, grateful for the moment of levity. "Poor Dave. Tell him I said goodbye, will you?"

"Of course." Dad paused, then pulled me into a tight hug. "Be careful up there, Lulu. Humans can be... unpredictable."

I hugged him back, breathing in the familiar scent of hellfire and expensive cologne. "I will. And hey, I'll call you as soon as I'm settled. We can test out that inter-realm FaceTime thing you've been working on."

As we pulled apart, I saw a tear glistening in the corner of his eye. The Devil himself, getting emotional. Who would've thought?

"I'm proud of you, Luella," he said softly. "Go raise some hell up there."

I grinned, picking up my suitcase. "Oh, don't worry. I intend to."

With one last look at the only home I'd ever known, I stepped through the portal, ready to face whatever the human world had in store for me.

Years later...

I adjusted my position on the rough concrete of the rooftop, the cool night air kissing my bare shoulders. My sniper rifle, an old friend at this point, was locked and loaded, its scope trained on the dingy apartment window across the street.

"Come on, you bastard," I muttered, finger twitching near the trigger. "I've got places to be."

The irony wasn't lost on me. Here I was, heir to the throne of Hell, crouched on a mortal rooftop like some common assassin. But hey, a girl's gotta have hobbies, right?

I shifted slightly, my black dress riding up my thighs. Normally, I wouldn't give two shits about getting a little blood splatter on my clothes. Hell, back home, it was practically a fashion statement. But tonight was different. Tonight, I had a date.

My mind wandered to the bar where I'd be meeting Elias in less than an hour. Would he notice if I showed up smelling like gunpowder and brimstone? Probably. Shifters have an unfortunately good sense of smell.

A flicker of movement caught my eye, and I tensed, peering through the scope. False alarm. Just a cat on the windowsill.

"Lucifer's balls," I growled, "if this asshole doesn't show up soon, I'm gonna have to reschedule. And I hate rescheduling."

I could almost hear Dad's voice in my head: "Patience, Lu. A good hunter always waits for the perfect moment." Yeah, well, easy for him to say. He wasn't the one lying on a dirty roof in designer shoes.

But I had to admit, there was a certain thrill to this. The anticipation, the power of holding someone's life in your hands. It was intoxicating in a way that even the finest hellfire whiskey couldn't match.

I allowed myself a small, wicked smile. Who said you couldn't mix business with pleasure?

Suddenly, the light in the apartment flickered on. My pulse quickened as I saw my target saunter into view. The demon – masquerading as a middle-aged businessman – loosened his tie and headed straight for the liquor cabinet.

"Gotcha, you slimy bastard," I whispered, adjusting my aim.

I took a deep breath, steadying my hand. The crosshairs aligned perfectly with his head. One squeeze of the trigger, and it'd be over.

Bang.

The sound was barely a whisper, thanks to the silencer, but the effect was instant. The demon's head snapped back, a spray of black ichor painting the wall behind him. He crumpled to the floor, twitching once before going still.

"And that's how it's done," I muttered, a smirk tugging at my lips. "Hope you're watching, Dad."

I kept my eye on the scope for a few more seconds, making sure the job was finished. No resurrection, no last-minute demonic tricks. Just a corpse cooling on an overpriced area rug.

"Mental note: tell Dad I found his runaway hellspawn. Maybe he'll finally get me that flaming sword for my birthday."

With a thought, I sent my rifle and gear back home. The familiar crackle of hellfire tingled across my skin as the equipment vanished. I stood up, brushing off my dress and giving it a critical once-over.

"Not a speck of demon goo. Perfect."

I closed my eyes, focusing on the hotel room I'd booked earlier. The scent of brimstone filled my nostrils as flames licked at my feet. In the blink of an eye, I was standing in a plush, air-conditioned suite.

I scrubbed my hands vigorously under scalding water, watching the last traces of gunpowder swirl down the drain. The scent of lavender soap replaced the acrid smell of cordite.

My eyes sparkled with residual adrenaline, cheeks flushed. I smoothed down my dress, a slinky black number that hugged every curve. Perfect for a night out... or for concealing the dagger strapped to my thigh.

The elevator dinged, and I sauntered out into the lobby. My heels clicked against the polished floor as I made my way towards the exit.

"Time to see if this shifter's bark is as good as his bite," I mused, pushing through the revolving door.

The night air hit me, carrying the scent of rain-soaked pavement and distant cigarette smoke. I walked up the street, my senses on high alert. Old habits die hard, even on a date night.

The neon sign of the bar came into view, and I paused, taking a deep breath. "Show time, Luella."

I pushed open the door, the smell of whiskey and leather washing over me. My eyes scanned the room, landing on a man at the bar. Elias. Even from here, I could feel the raw animal magnetism rolling off him in waves.

He turned, his eyes locking onto mine with predatory intensity. A slow smile spread across his ruggedly handsome face as he stood, drink in hand.

"Well, well," he drawled, his gaze dragging over me. "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes? You must be Luella. I'm Elias."

I smirked, sauntering towards him. "Careful, big boy. Stare too hard and you might strain something."

Elias chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent a shiver down my spine. "Trust me, darlin'. I can handle the view."

As I slid onto the barstool next to him, I couldn't help but wonder if he had any idea what he was getting himself into.

He leaned in close enough that I could smell his cologne, "what's your poison tonight?"

I met his gaze, letting a hint of mischief dance in my eyes. "Whiskey on the rocks," I replied, my voice low and husky.

As the bartender set our drinks down, I wrapped my fingers around the cool glass, bringing it to my lips. The amber liquid burned pleasantly as it slid down my throat. Elias watched, his eyes following the movement.

"So," he started, taking a sip of his own drink, "how was your day? Do anything exciting?"

I couldn't help the laugh that escaped me. If only he knew. "Oh, you know," I said, waving my hand dismissively, "just a quiet day of relaxation. Nothing too thrilling."

My mind flashed to the rooftop, the weight of the sniper rifle in my hands, the rush of adrenaline as I took the shot. Yeah, really relaxing.

I flagged down a waitress, suddenly feeling ravenous. "Let's get some food. How do you feel about wings?"

Elias grinned, flashing teeth that seemed a touch sharper than normal. "Sounds perfect. The hotter, the better."

"Challenge accepted," I smirked, turning to the waitress. "We'll take your hottest wings. Double order."

As the wings arrived, their spicy aroma hit me like a punch to the gut. Delicious. I grabbed one, biting in without hesitation. The heat exploded on my tongue, a familiar warmth that reminded me of home.

Elias, on the other hand, was putting on quite the show. His face contorted in a series of increasingly amusing expressions as he fought against the sauce's intensity. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his eyes watered.

I couldn't help but laugh. "Too much for you, big guy?"

He coughed, reaching for his drink. "Jesus Christ, what is this, lava?"

"Aw, come on," I teased, licking sauce off my fingers. "It's not that bad. Maybe you're just out of practice."

Elias glared at me, but there was no real heat behind it. Well, except for the kind turning his face an alarming shade of red. "How are you not dying right now?"

I shrugged, grabbing another wing. "What can I say? I like it hot."

As Elias struggled through the plate, I found myself oddly charmed by his determination. There was something endearing about watching this powerful shifter brought low by a bit of hot sauce.

"Alright," he gasped, finally admitting defeat. "I need something cold. Ice cream?"

"You read my mind," I grinned, waving the waitress over again.

When the ice cream arrived, Elias dug in like a man possessed. His eyes rolled back in pleasure as the cold dessert soothed his burning mouth. "Oh my god," he moaned. "This is heaven."

I watched him, amused and intrigued. "Enjoying yourself there?"

He nodded, too blissed out to speak. As I savoured my own ice cream, I found myself wondering what other kinds of sounds I could coax out of him. Maybe this date wasn't such a bad idea after all.

As we finished our ice cream, I caught Elias's eye and jerked my head towards the bar. "Fancy a drink?"

He grinned, all traces of his earlier discomfort gone. "I thought you'd never ask."

We settled onto adjacent barstools, our knees brushing as we turned to face each other. The bartender approached, and I ordered a whiskey on the rocks.

Our drinks arrived, and I took a slow sip, savouring the burn. Elias mirrored my action, his eyes never leaving mine. The air between us crackled with tension.

"So," I drawled, setting my glass down. "Tell me, what's a nice shifter like you doing in a place like this?"

He chuckled, leaning in closer. "Looking for trouble, I suppose. Are you offering?"

I smirked, letting my fingers trail along the edge of the bar until they just barely touched his hand. "Depends on what kind of trouble you're after."

Elias's breath hitched, and I felt a surge of satisfaction. It was almost too easy, this game we were playing. But damn if it wasn't fun.

"The best kind," he murmured, his hand inching closer to mine.

I took another sip of whiskey, considering. Part of me wondered what dear old dad would think of his little girl flirting with a shifter in some bar. The thought made me want to push things further, just out of spite.

"Well," I said, letting my knee press against his. "I might be able to help with that."

I leaned in close, my lips nearly brushing his ear. "What do you say we get out of here? My hotel's just down the street."

Elias's eyes darkened with desire. "Lead the way."

As he signalled for the check, I couldn't help but feel a thrill of anticipation. Sure, I'd just killed a demon a few hours ago, but this? This was a different kind of hunt altogether.

Elias settled the bill, and we stood. His arm snaked around my waist as we headed for the exit, his fingers trailing lower with each step. I suppressed a shiver, thinking of all the ways this night could end.

"You know," I said as we stepped out into the cool night air, "I'm not usually this forward."

He laughed, a low, rumbling sound that sent heat coursing through me. "Somehow, I doubt that."

I grinned, playfully bumping his hip with mine.

His grip on my waist tightened, pulling me flush against him, his lips inches away from mine. I tiptoed, kissing his nose, winking, and then diving out from his arms. He could wait until we got back to the hotel.

As we walked, I found myself actually enjoying his company. It was a strange feeling, one I wasn't entirely used to. Most of my interactions were either business or family-related, and neither of those tended to be particularly pleasant.

We reached the hotel in no time, the anticipation building with each step. As soon as the elevator doors closed behind us, I made my move. I pushed Elias against the mirrored wall, crashing my lips into his with a hunger I hadn't realised I'd been holding back.

His hands gripped my hips, pulling me closer as he returned the kiss with equal fervour. The taste of whiskey and hot sauce lingered on his tongue, a spicy reminder of our evening.

"Fuck," I breathed as we broke apart for air. "I've been wanting to do that all night."

Elias grinned, his eyes dark with desire. "Why'd you wait so long?"

I laughed, trailing my fingers down his chest. "Where's the fun in rushing?"

The elevator dinged, signalling our arrival at my floor. I grabbed his hand, leading him down the hallway to my room. As I fumbled with the key card, Elias pressed himself against my back, his lips finding that sensitive spot just below my ear.

"You're making it very hard to concentrate," I muttered, finally managing to unlock the door.

"Good," he growled, following me into the room.

As the door clicked shut behind us, I turned to face him, suddenly aware of the sniper rifle that should be sitting in the middle of my living room floor back home. Thank Dad for pyroporting. The last thing I needed was to explain why I had a high-powered weapon in my hotel room.

"So," I said, kicking off my heels, "about that nightcap..."

Elias's gaze roamed over me, hungry and appreciative. "I think I'd rather skip straight to dessert."

I couldn't help but smirk. "Careful what you wish for, shifter. You might not be able to handle me."

He pulled me close, his hands splayed across my lower back. "I'm willing to take that risk."

As our lips met again, I pushed thoughts of demons and contracts out of my mind. Tonight, I was just Luella – not the heir to hell, not an assassin. Just a woman about to have a very, very good time.

Elias's mouth crashed into mine, his body pressing me against the wall with an urgency that made my head spin. I wrapped my legs around his waist, grinding against him and relishing the groan that escaped his lips.

"Fuck, Luella," he panted, his fingers digging into my thighs.

I smirked, twirling my hips again. "That's the idea, isn't it?"

His response was a growl that sent shivers down my spine. His hand slid up my leg, pushing my dress higher. The heat of his touch was intoxicating, and for a moment, I wondered if this is what humans felt when they talked about burning with desire.

Elias's lips never left mine as his fingers teased higher, tracing patterns on my inner thigh. When he finally reached my core, his touch sent a jolt through me that rivalled any hellfire.

"Christ," he growled in my ear, his voice rough with want. "You're so fucking wet already."

I bit back a moan, not wanting to give him the satisfaction just yet. "Less talking, more action, shifter."

His fingers dipped inside me, and this time I couldn't hold back the gasp of pleasure. As he began to work me towards the edge, I found myself thinking that maybe, just maybe, this night would be worth missing out on the messy, hands-on kill from earlier.

I wasn't about to let him have all the fun. With deft fingers, I undid his fly, letting his trousers fall to the floor with a soft thud. My hand slipped into his boxers, wrapping around his length. I stroked him slowly, savouring the feel of him hardening further in my grasp.

"Fuck," Elias groaned, his head falling back against the wall.

I grinned, increasing my pace. "That's the plan, big boy."

Just as I was getting into a rhythm, he slapped my hand away. For a split second, I considered snapping his wrist for that, but the look in his eyes - pure, animalistic hunger - made me reconsider.

He lined himself up at my entrance, his gaze locked on mine. "You sure about this, princess?"

I rolled my eyes. "If you don't fuck me right now, I swear to my father I'll-"

My threat was cut short as he thrust into me, bottoming out in one smooth motion. The feeling of him filling me so completely knocked the breath from my lungs.

"You were saying?" he smirked, holding still inside me.

I dug my nails into his shoulders, probably drawing blood. "Move, damn you."

And move he did. The pace he set was bruising, relentless. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through me. I met him stroke for stroke, my demonic stamina more than a match for his shifter endurance.