Helluva Boss x reader Oneshots

Impish Research🌺(Angel!Male x Striker)

Request from @WolfeOnline !!

The amazingly blue and white skies slowly turns to a dark, crimson red. Protected by a heavenly seal, no daggers could harm you, but the filthy insults and glares from the souls trapped in hell were exempt from your protection. In front of the palace doors, an imp stands by to pulverize anyone who may try to hurt you. He looks at you and winks. You turn sway from him, no time to get distracted. The doors slam behind you as you make your way up the long stairs. Photos of your boss' business "partner" and his family stare at you eerily, judging you.
Standing in a doorway, an empty table and open patio doors greet you. "Oh Lucifer," you introduce, walking towards the patio. You stand a safe yet close distance to him, the king of Hell, Lucifer. "Isn't it wonderful," he begins. It wasn't uncommon for him to monologue about how glorious his kingdom is. "All of this, the freedom to do whatever you want. You can do the most heinous things to another and still be seen as a true equal."
You nod, barely listening. Instead, you look down at the "glorious" kingdom he speaks of. Imps sleeping in boxes, prostitutes fighting for drugs, bombs being launched, and faint screaming that never seems to end. This was not the paradise Lucifer made it out to be, but as an angel, you couldn't help but feel discomfort with the state of despair.
"So, what does your precious God want to do with my kingdom this time? Perhaps try to salvage the poor sinners who were sent here "wrongfully"?" "No," you sigh, "God is asking about your daughter's attempt to-" "oh please," he snaps, "I do not want anything to do with a "rehabilitation" for the souls trapped here. We agreed anybody who is sent here shall stay, no backsies. If my daughter wants to break a millennium-old pact, she will deal with that when she is queen. That is the end of the discussion."
Lucifer was always adamantly against his daughter's idea of rehabilitating a demon and allowing them a chance at redemption, it was unclear to you why. God, however, seems to be almost content with the idea presented. Known as the most merciful, it is only to fair to give those worthy a second chance. Lucifer does not agree, and you fear that if you push him any further, your wings will no longer fly.

Exiting the palace, more protestors stand and belittle you while the bodyguard still stands like a knight in shining armor. "I'll escort you to a safer area, sir." Following the imp, you feel as though you failed your mission, the whole reason you were sent down here. "What's got you so glum?" The imp asks with a southern twang. "I was unable to reason with Lucifer about a proposal from God." He scoffs and chuckles, "don't you worry about Luci, he's stubborn as a bull. God should've realized that sendin' a lil' angel down here wouldn't do the trick." Was he belittling you or trying to comfort you? "Don't you worry 'bout a thing. Name's Striker, private assassin and guard" he holds out his hand. Fingerless gloves that show off his claws. Hesitantly shaking his hand, "I'm Y/N, God's angel ambassador." "Wow, an ambassador? You must suck a lotta peen to get that high a role!" He laughs. It was loud, boisterous, confident, like he didn't even care he was talking to God's right hand man. "N-no, I just dedicated my time and effort and eventually was rewarded." His smile fades. "So you just wait? No go-get-em in you?" "Not exactly, I am ambitious, I just prefer to bide my time." "So Simple up there. Down here you gotta kill, gotta take the bull by the horns and lead it to the competition. S'hard work, but when you're hired by the man in charge, boy, do you feel like you've won the lotto." The two of you reached your destination, and he looks at you and pauses. "Do what you want, Y/N, I'll be eagerly awaitin' your next visit."

You tell God the update on the rehabilitation project, and of course, they are unhappy. "What a shame, I would disassemble that damned pact if I could, but it requires the consent of the two rulers." They shake their head, resting it on their hand. "Thank you for the update, Y/N, you are relieved of your duties for the day."
Walking away from the palace down the golden streets, cherubs flying and giggling as other angels talk and walk together. Such a simplistic lifestyle. You think on the scenery of hell, the dark overtones and absolute freedom of oneself, good or bad. The souls who have accepted their life as a filthy sinner and acted as such, the imps who are the lowest of the low act the same as those who were sent down. What purpose did they serve? What purpose was an assassin if they were already deceased? These questions antagonized you, but they all surrounded a certain Imp, the one who talked to you like you were a true equal-Striker. He was such an interesting one, looks and conversation, he was different. You wanted to learn more about this imp.
With God's permission, angels were able to go to hell for their own benefit and for the extermination process. Some angels were even given the ability to shape-shift or look as if they belonged there. You were one of those angels. This ability was not able to be used all the time, only for small amounts of time. That did not stop you.
As you entered hell once again, you sought out the countryside imp to discuss your curiosities. Looking around for him was difficult, but the helpful sinners and imps who actually did recognize your description of him were able to help you find him, which eventually you did. He was eating a sandwich in a run-down diner. Taking a seat next to him, you order a cup of what looks like coffee. He scoffs. "How basic, why not try a sandwich? At least you'll get some sustenance." Taken aback by his new attitude, you wondered if this was how he treated everyone, maybe it was just politeness when you were an Angel. You lean in closer to him despite his tensing body and whispered "I'm the angel. I wanna talk." Striker's eyes widened as did his smile. "Well, let's get out of 'ere, I can tell ya alllll about what ya wanna know". He stands and you follow him to a secluded area behind some buildings. No one was around, it was almost abandoned. "So you're the angel I escorted earlier, huh? Mighty risky of ya to come down here on yer own." He lights a cigarette. "Well yes, but I had some questions about this world I'd like to be answered." He smiles with the cigarette through his sharp fangs, "I'd be happy to answer yer questions, handsome." You blush slightly. "W-well, you are an assassin, yes?" "Yessir" he says confidently with a bit of pride. "What purpose do you serve when everyone here is already dead?" His smile seems to fade a bit as he looks towards the ground. "I don't know and frankly, I don't care," his smile comes back, more sinister than before. "I get paid big bucks to kill these low-lives here, my biggest client is from the Goetia family, believe it or not." Did he say the Goetia? One of the highest royalties in Hell? What would a Goetia need an assassin for? Striker continues, "I even got one of heaven's fine-ass weapons to get the job done. Now I'm sure you don't need a lesson on the definition of assassin, but I get lotsa money to kill someone here, dead or not."
"How intriguing." Not even he knows where his victims go? How could he be so nonchalant about this? You look at him, puffing out smoke and crushing the cigarette under his boots. He doesn't care about anything but money it seems he's just like the others here. "Alright... how are morals down here?" Striker laughs, "what morals? We all don't care 'bout each other! It's kill or be killed here!" His toothy smile flashes with a golden fang, a cruel display. "But," he continues, "there are some here that decide to settle down, find someone, start a family of their own if they want. Others start their own business, and some try to do good deeds." You look at him, watch him as he describes the bit of light in such a dark universe. "I used to want to do that, have a family, but that ain't the life for me. I kill now, and I'm damn good at it, and that's enough for me. You don't know how hard it is to find someone here, let alone someone who wants an imp." He spat the word "imp" with such distaste, such hatred and scorn for his own kind. No wonder, being the lowest of the lowest class here, it must be agonizing to even exist.
"What if someone wanted to be with you too? Even if they aren't what you expected... aren't someone from Hell?" Striker looks at you, confused yet intrigued. "What? Like you? An Angel? HA! Don't Pull my tail, ion need that kinda joke right now." "No," you say sternly, "I have thought about you since I met you today, and I'd like to experience things with you! I would like to start a research project with you." "A what?" "A research project. I do them for God on many occasions, mostly about Hell's state and the wellness of the angels in heaven. I'd like to discuss with him a possibility of researching an imp and how one lives and I believe you are the best candidate."
Striker was taken aback. He was the best candidate for a research project? No way was he qualified, he was an imp, a low-life, nothing more! But, he was honored that someone of such a high class, someone like you, chose him; but he'd never let you know that. "Sure Angel, I'll be your little Guinea pig, but in return, I get to ask you whatever I want and you gotta answer regardless. And you gotta stay here for a bit. Deal?" He holds out his hand. It's a dangerous deal, being an Angel down in hell, but the chance to research an imp was perfect. You shake his hand, agreeing before returning to heaven to consult God.
"Y/N, what would researching an imp's life do for their benefit?" "Well, we can use this research to determine if more sinners or imps will be annihilated during the exterminations." "Fine, I will grant you three months to gather information. I will give you an impish disguise so you can experience their hardships as well. I wish you luck, Y/N."
And with that, you were sent to hell to research the life of an imp with Striker.

It was a tough life for sure, but within these 3 months you grew accustomed to the lifestyle. It wasn't difficult to fend for yourself after a bit, especially at an assassin's side. Speaking of Striker, you grew close with him, learning about his life and hardships. As you grew, your feelings for the imp did as well. It wasn't ideal, but it happened. Hiding it became more and more difficult, resulting in avoiding Striker as much as possible while still being near him.
Striker, however, knew of these feelings since the start, having reciprocated these same feelings, but not telling you until he was sure. He teased you and played with your tail, the horns and made snarky comments to you that made you blush and set your insides on fire. The rare times you flirted back only made his remarks more frequent.
Sometimes he would hold you, or cuddle you under the ruse of being asleep and just getting comfortable in an unconscious state. You didn't mind at all, in fact, it become a daily instance to sleep while cuddling; for comfort and warmth, of course. It was a lovely thing to hold each other, tails sometimes intertwining and tangling with each other, causing a cute yet awkward scene of giggling and Striker pulling them apart, saying something along the lines of "they got a mind of their own, huh?"

One month until you were to be sent back to Heaven, one more month with Striker. Today was the day you wanted to tell him you loved him. It was nerve-wracking, but you wanted to tell him all of your icky feelings, all of the sappy thoughts while cuddling, the happiness when he'd untangle the two of you, and how his comments and teasing made your heart swoon. He was laying in bed in the dingy motel room he resided in. Laying next to him, you stroked a finger on his horn, thinking he was asleep. "I can feel yer claw there, darlin"." You were wrong. "Sorry, they're so cool looking!" He rolled over, shirtless and his hair ruffled. He smiled and chuckled sleepily, "y'know, it's a treat lookin' atcha get all excited about my horns when you gotta pair of yer own." It was comments like that. That damn smile. "Well what can I say, I enjoy your looks." Here we go, on the track of confession. He looked at you in the eyes, acting smugly, but there was a sense of fear in him. "Oh? You sayin' I'm attractive, angel boy?" "Of course, why else would I obsess over your horns and spiny tail all the time? No other imp catches my eye like you do." Striker smiled slightly and looked at the ground, a very, very slight blush dusting his cheeks. "Well, I suppose you wouldn't have chosen me for this if you weren't a lil' bit attracted to me, right?"
Striker had a slight self-esteem issue. You know, of course. It tied back to him being an imp. You were aware of this and we're always sensitive when discussing the topic. "Well, you wouldn't have accepted if you weren't attracted to me as well, right?" You moved your hand to ever so lightly brush your fingers over his. He notices and slides a finger under yours, reciprocating the action of affection. "Yer right haha. Maybe I am a bit attracted to an Angel in an Imp's disguise." You smile as the two of you look into each other's eyes lovingly. "And this Angel has indeed fallen for an imp such as yourself."

The feelings were out, and it seemed they were reciprocated. Your hands tangled and held one another's, foreheads pressed against each other's as light and loving laughter filled the room. Tails intertwining once again, but not accidentally, not to be untied by the handsome assassin the Angel had fallen for. This was a display of pure love, nothing a research book could ever describe, not for these two.

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Word count: 2.5K     Fandom: Helluva Boss   

Original publish date: Sept. 6, 2022

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