#AtValentinesDay-DarcyDarling

[darcydarlingdabbles]

At Valentine’s Day~ Part 10 - Beg Me

RadioApple🩷Human Au/Age Gap🩷Top!Dom!Alastor

🩷Divorced Dad!Lucifer🩷Explicit

On my knees, I plead, I swear, Tell me, love, do you still care? Say you forgive, say it’s fine— Or punish me, love, for crossing the line.

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❣️Ao3❣️Original Fics (1 Year Free)❣️Tumblr❣️

The cool night air hit Alastor's flushed skin as he ushered the last of the giggling girls into their waiting Ubers.

Charlie and Vaggie, arms linked and still wearing their ‘bride’ sashes, stumbled slightly as they climbed into their own ride.

Alastor couldn't help but smile at their obvious joy, even as a pleasant buzz thrummed through his own veins.

"Thanks for everything, Al!" Charlie called out, her words slightly slurred. "Best bachelorette party ever!"

Alastor waved, his signature smile firmly in place. "My pleasure, dear. Get home safe now."

As the car pulled away, Alastor turned to find Anthony grinning at him. "Well, well, Mr. Demon. Still got it, don't you?"

"I suppose some skills never fade." Alastor chuckled, adjusting his glasses.

Emily, the last to depart, stumbled slightly as she approached her ride. Alastor steadied her with a gentle hand on her elbow.

"Easy there," he murmured, guiding her to the car door.

Emily giggled, her cheeks flushed with alcohol and excitement. "You know, Lucifer is so lucky to have you," she said, patting Alastor's arm.

"Thank you," he replied automatically, helping Emily into the backseat.

As Alastor closed the door, Lute's voice cut through the night air. "I'd be jealous if I saw my guy doing that with someone else."

The words hit Alastor like a splash of cold water. He froze, hand still on the car door handle, as a sudden wave of doubt washed over him.

Had he crossed a line? His stomach churned, the pleasant buzz of alcohol now feeling more like a sickening weight.

"You alright there, Al?" Anthony's voice cut through his spiraling thoughts.

Alastor straightened, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Perfectly fine, my dear."

As they settled into the ride they were sharing, Alastor's thoughts continued to churn.

He’d done demonstrations with Anthony before. Hell, he’d done far worse with others.

But…he hadn’t even considered how his partner would feel about the little performance.

The city lights blurred past the window, each flash feeling like an accusation. Alastor's fingers tapped an anxious rhythm on his knee.

“You’re a little wound up there, Smiles.” Anthony observed from his seat, surprisingly composed for how much they’d had to drink.

Though, they’d both always been rather good at holding their liquor.

Alastor let out a soft, humorless chuckle. "Just…pondering the complexities of relationships, I suppose."

"Oh? Care to share?" Anthony raised an eyebrow.

Alastor hesitated, his fingers tracing the edge of his jacket. The city lights continued to flicker past, casting ever-changing shadows across his face.

Finally, he turned to Anthony, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Angel…when did you stop? The work we used to do, I mean. Before you met Husk?"

Anthony's eyes widened slightly, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. He leaned back, crossing one long leg over the other.

"Funny you should ask, Smiles. That's how I met Husky. He was a client, if ya can believe it."

“Is that…is that why you retired?”

Anthony let out a rich, warm laugh that filled the car.

"Nah. Husk knew exactly what I was when we met. He didn't try to change me or nothin'. But after a while…" He paused, a softer expression crossing his face. "After a while, I just wanted to be with him. Only him."

The car hit a pothole, jostling them both. Alastor used the moment to collect his thoughts, his mind racing.

"You haven't told Lucifer, have ya?"

The words hung in the air between them, heavy with implication.

“I don’t know how.” Alastor shook his head, unable to meet Anthony's gaze. “I haven’t…dated anyone, actually, before. And I don’t think I could handle it if…if it changed the way he saw me.”

Anthony reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Alastor's arm.

"Hey, look at me, Al." When Alastor finally met his eyes, Anthony continued, his voice gentle but firm. "It's gonna be fine. Lucifer loves you, ya know? And if he's half the guy you say he is, he'll understand."

Alastor let out a shaky breath, some of the tension leaving his shoulders.

"Trust me, Al," Anthony replied with a wink. " The truth always comes out, eventually. Better it comes from you, yeah?"

As the car pulled up to Anthony's building, Alastor felt a weight lift from his chest. He still had doubts, fears that gnawed at the edges of his mind, but Anthony's words had given him hope.

Alastor needed to make this right. Tonight.

As the Morningstar mansion came into view, Alastor's resolve hardened. He needed to confess, to beg forgiveness if necessary.

The thought of hurting Lucifer, of jeopardizing their fragile new bond, was unbearable.

<3<3<3

The fire crackled softly, casting a warm glow across the leather-bound tome in Lucifer's hands.

He sank deeper into his favorite armchair, relishing the quiet solitude of his study. The scent of aged paper and wood smoke mingled in the air, a comforting aroma that never failed to soothe his eternally restless mind.

As Lucifer's eyes danced across the page, devouring each word—a good distraction from missing Alastor while he was reluctantly out at the bachelorette party tonight.

A faint smile tugged at the older man’s lips.

He could picture his boyfriend now—impeccably dressed, charm turned up to eleven, effortlessly commanding the room's attention.

Lucifer wasn’t worried about Alastor. The man had iron-clad self-control as far as he was concerned, even when they drank together.

The rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner marked the passage of time.

Lucifer barely noticed as the hours slipped by, lost in one of his favorite texts, Paradise Lost.

A muffled sound from beyond the study doors barely registered as footsteps as he turned another page.

Suddenly, the double doors burst open with a resounding bang. Lucifer's head snapped up, startled from his literary reverie.

There, silhouetted dramatically in the doorway, stood Alastor.

Or rather, there swayed Alastor.

The brunette took a staggering step forward, one hand braced against the doorframe. His usual fluid grace was slightly off-kilter, but he still managed to cut an impressive figure.

Alastor's hazel eyes gleamed with an intensity that sent a shiver down Lucifer's spine.

"My dear," Alastor purred, his voice carrying the faintest hint of a slur. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything…important."

“Just the fall of the Garden of Eden, nothing major.” He chuckled, but then Lucifer's eyebrows shot up, surprise and amusement dancing across his features.

He'd never seen Alastor quite like this before.

The usually impeccable gentleman’s cheeks were flushed a deeper shade of red than normal, his perfectly coiffed hair slightly disheveled. There was a wild, almost desperate look in those eyes that both intrigued and concerned the blonde.

"Alastor?" Lucifer set his book aside, leaning forward in his chair. "Are you…alright?"

Before he could say more, Alastor closed the distance between them in a few unsteady strides.

With a dramatic flourish that was pure theater, the younger man dropped to his knees before Lucifer's chair. His hands found purchase on the older’s thighs, gripping tightly as if to steady himself.

"Lucifer, my darling," Alastor breathed, his voice thick with emotion. "I must beg your forgiveness."

The blonde blinked, momentarily stunned by this uncharacteristic display.

He'd never seen Alastor so…unraveled.

A part of him was deeply concerned, while another part found the whole situation oddly endearing.

Lucifer arched an eyebrow, worry and dry amusement playing across his features. He set his book aside, the leather-bound tome making a soft thud as it landed on the side table.

"For what, exactly?" Lucifer asked, his voice a blend of curiosity and gentle prodding.

Alastor's usual composure seemed to crumble at the question. Words began to pour out of him in a frantic, jumbled rush.

"The party—Angel’s little bachelorette soirée—it was all in good fun, I assure you, but things got a bit…carried away. There was this scarf trick, you see, and then a demonstration with a cane—purely educational, mind you—but I fear I may have overstepped…"

Lucifer struggled to follow the rapid-fire explanation, his brow furrowing as he tried to piece together the fragments.

Angel? A scarf trick? What kind of demonstration? His mind raced, conjuring up increasingly outlandish scenarios.

"Slow down," Lucifer murmured, his hands moving to cup Alastor's flushed cheeks. "You're not making much sense."

But Alastor seemed incapable of slowing down, the alcohol clearly loosening his usually silver tongue. “But then everyone started cheering, and Angel was egging me on, and before I thought better of it—”

Lucifer's unease grew as Alastor's rambling became more incoherent. With a gentle yet firm motion, he placed his hand over Alastor's mouth, effectively silencing the stream of words.

"Breathe, Sweetheart," Lucifer said softly, his eyes locked on Alastor's. "Slowly. Try again."

He could feel Alastor's warm, erratic breath against his palm. The usually composed brunette looked utterly confounded, his hair askew and his bow tie hanging loose around his neck.

Lucifer's heart ached at the sight.

Alastor nodded against the older man’s hand, his eyes wide and grateful. As Lucifer slowly withdrew his touch, Alastor exhaled sharply, the sound cutting through the crackling of the fireplace.

Lucifer watched as Alastor closed his eyes, visibly attempting to gather himself. The ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner seemed to grow louder in the silence.

"Take your time," Lucifer murmured, his hand moving to rest comfortingly on Alastor's hands. "I'm listening."

The younger’s eyes fluttered open, meeting Lucifer's gaze. The panic in them had subsided somewhat, replaced by a determined focus. He straightened his posture, squared his shoulders, and took another deep breath.

"Right," Alastor said, his voice steadier now. "Let me explain properly."

Alastor's hazel eyes bore into Lucifer's with an intensity that seemed to pierce through the alcohol-induced haze. His grip tightened slightly on Lucifer's thighs, steadying himself.

"Before we discuss tonight," Alastor began, his voice low and measured but tinged with urgency, "there's something I need to tell you—about my past."

Lucifer felt a flicker of apprehension in his chest. He leaned forward slightly, drawn in by the gravity of Alastor's tone.

What could be weighing on Alastor this much when he was so drunk?

"Go on," Lucifer encouraged softly, his curiosity kindled. He fought to keep his expression neutral, not wanting to betray the concern and curiosity swirling within him.

Whatever Alastor needed to share, Lucifer was determined to listen without judgment.

Alastor swallowed hard, his Adam's Apple bobbing visibly.

The Dom rarely showed such vulnerability, and Lucifer found himself holding his breath, waiting for the revelation that seemed to be teetering on the edge of Alastor's lips.

Alastor's gaze flickered momentarily to the crackling fire, as if drawing strength from its steady warmth. When he looked back at Lucifer, his expression was a carefully constructed mask.

"I used to perform," Alastor began, each word precisely chosen, "as a dominant, for hire." He paused, searching Lucifer's face for any reaction. Finding none, he pressed on, his tone tinged with a hint of desperation. "For parties, performances, private events…sometimes educational ones, like I told you."

Lucifer blinked, his brow furrowing as he processed this information.

A professional dominant? The concept was entirely foreign to him. He'd heard of sex workers, of course, but this seemed…different. More performative, perhaps.

Or maybe, that was just him trying to reconcile this new information with the Alastor he knew.

"A dominant…for hire?" Lucifer repeated slowly, tasting the words. His golden eyes searched Alastor's face, noting the tension in his jaw, the slight tremor in his hands still resting on Lucifer's thighs. "I don't understand. What exactly did that entail?"

Alastor's shoulders sagged slightly.

"It varied," he explained, his voice steadier now. "Sometimes it was purely educational—demonstrations at BDSM workshops, teaching proper technique and safety. Other times, it was more…theatrical."

Lucifer nodded slowly, encouraging Alastor to continue. The scent of whiskey on his breath mingled with the familiar notes of his cologne.

"I would perform at private parties," Alastor continued, his eyes taking on a faraway look. "Fetish clubs, exclusive gatherings. It was all very…choreographed. Like a dance, really. The audience would watch as I demonstrated various techniques on a willing submissive."

As Alastor spoke, Lucifer could almost picture it—Alastor in his element, commanding a room's attention, his movements precise and calculated.

It wasn't difficult to imagine; he'd seen glimpses of that showmanship, that raw charisma, in their private moments together.

He hadn’t thought about it before—not in any real sense—but now the image took form. Of Alastor, surrounded by people eager to be bent to his will.

It made, something ache inside Lucifer. Something he wasn’t entirely proud of.

Yes, he could tell that Alastor had quite a lot of experience when it came to the performance of a scene—but did that mean what they were sharing was just a performance for Alastor?

"But…forgive me, Alastor, I'm still a bit confused. Given your…issues with intimacy…" He trailed off, not wanting to push too hard on a sensitive subject.

There were times with Lucifer that Alastor had trouble finishing. He couldn’t imagine the pressure of performing like that in front of a crowd of strangers.

“It wasn’t like that.” Alastor's lips quirked into a sour smile.

“So it wasn’t like a live sex show?”

Alastor immediately recoiled, like the thought horrified him. "No! Absolutely not!" he exclaimed, his usual smooth cadence cracking with vehemence.

Okay, maybe that shouldn’t make Lucifer as happy as it did. To know that there was still some eroticism only he and Alastor shared.

It wasn’t rational, and he knew it. But Lucifer’s insecurities rarely were.

Taking a deep breath to regain his composure, Alastor reached to straighten his bowtie, only to find it already undone and hanging off his collar.

"There was no sexual activity whatsoever," he emphasized, his voice low and intense. "What I offered were carefully curated BDSM demonstrations for private audiences." Alastor's hands moved in precise, controlled gestures—especially for a man with alcohol-flushed cheeks and hazy eyes. "Think of it as…performance art. A display of power dynamics, if you will."

Lucifer leaned forward slightly, his golden eyes fixed on Alastor's face.

Alastor continued, his words flowing more smoothly now. "I would showcase various techniques—rope work, impact play, sensory deprivation. All consensual, all meticulously choreographed."

“And, Angel—Anthony—was someone you used to do this…choreography with?”

The brunette swallowed, looking thoroughly admonished though Lucifer hadn’t said anything. “Yes, Anthony was.”

After a moment of contemplative silence, Lucifer spoke, his voice measured and calm.

"I appreciate you telling me this. I can tell it was hard for you," Lucifer said, leaning back in his chair. "I wish I'd known sooner, but…it's in the past. It has nothing to do with us. "

Alastor's eyes widened, a flicker of hope dancing across his features. "You're not…upset?"

"I wouldn't say I'm thrilled. I wish you'd told me sooner, especially about your history with Anthony."

A shadow of guilt passed over Alastor's face, his shoulders tensing. Lucifer reached out, gently cupping Alastor's cheek in his palm.

The warmth of Alastor's flushed skin against his hand was a stark reminder of his partner's inebriated state.

"But," Lucifer continued, his voice soft but firm, "I understand why you didn't."

"I didn't want it to change how you saw me." Alastor nodded, leaning into Lucifer's touch.

"Your past doesn't change who you are to me," Lucifer continued, his voice low and steady.

Alastor's breath hitched, his hands tightening on Lucifer's thighs. The older man could feel the slight tremor running through his partner's frame.

"But," Lucifer added, "in the future, I need you to be honest with me. About everything. Even the parts of yourself you think might scare me away. Especially those parts. Do you understand?"

"Yes, of course. I promise." Alastor nodded vigorously, his usual eloquence seemingly abandoning him in the face of Lucifer's steady gaze.

Lucifer's lips quirked into a small smile. "Good. Now, about this party tonight…" He trailed off, raising an eyebrow expectantly.

Alastor's face flushed an even deeper shade of red, if that was possible. "Ah, yes. Well, you see…"

Alastor's eyes darted away for a moment. He took a deep breath, steadying himself before meeting Lucifer's gaze once more.

"At the bachelorette party," he began, his voice low and measured, "things took an…unexpected turn."

Lucifer remained silent, his expression unreadable as he waited for Alastor to continue.

"The girls, they…" Alastor paused, searching for the right words. "They encouraged a demonstration. Of my former skills." His hands twitched slightly in Lucifer’s lap, betraying his nervousness. "I used a silk scarf to restrain Anthony."

"You…tied Anthony's hands with a scarf?" Lucifer repeated slowly, trying to understand why this relatively innocuous act was causing Alastor such distress.

"Yes, and…and I demonstrated some techniques with a cane as well," he added, his voice barely above a whisper.

The blonde's eyebrows shot up, a flicker of something—jealousy? Insecurity?—flashing across his face before he could school his features.

"A cane?" he echoed, his voice tight.

"It wasn't—I didn't—" Alastor stumbled over his words, in ways the blonde had never heard from him. "It was all very…educational. Professional. Just like old times, really."

Lucifer's mind raced, conjuring images of Alastor wielding a cane with practiced ease, Anthony's lithe form bent over some makeshift stage.

The mental picture sent an uncomfortable pang through his chest.

"I see," Lucifer said, his voice carefully neutral. "And this... demonstration. Was it well-received?"

"They were…quite enthusiastic," Alastor's cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red. "There may have been some…cheering."

Lucifer knew it wasn’t cheating. Not in the technical sense.

ut the image—the idea of Alastor’s hands on someone else, commanding a scene while others watched—it settled like a bitter taste at the back of his throat.

He should have been past jealousy at his age. And yet, here it was, sinking in like teeth.

"I'm sure you enjoyed the show," Lucifer murmured, unable to keep a hint of bitterness from his tone.

Alastor's head snapped up, his eyes wide with alarm. "Darling, no—it wasn't like that at all. I was just going through the motions, performing. It meant nothing."

"Nothing?" Lucifer's jaw tightened."Then why are you on your knees, begging for forgiveness?"

Alastor's eyes widened, a flash of panic crossing his features. He reached out, his hands hovering just above Lucifer's knees, not quite daring to touch.

"Because I'm a fool," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Because I don’t know how to do this. Because I’ve never had something I was afraid of losing before—Because I heard Vaggie's sister say she'd be jealous if her partner did something like that. And suddenly, all I could think about was you. How you might feel, how it might look to you.”

Alastor's gaze dropped to the floor, his shoulders slumping.

"I couldn't bear the thought of you believing I'd betrayed your trust. The very idea of hurting you, of jeopardizing what we have…" His voice cracked, the vulnerability in his tone startling in its rawness.

Lucifer's heart clenched, a maelstrom of emotions swirling within him.

He wanted to forgive Alastor, to sweep this all away with a gentle word and a warm embrace.

But the image of Alastor commanding a room full of eager onlookers, Anthony bent submissively before him, burned in Lucifer's mind.

Lucifer exhaled sharply, tilting his head back against the chair. "You didn’t mean to hurt me."

Alastor nodded quickly. "Never."

"But you did," Lucifer admitted, his voice barely above a murmur. "And it wasn't just about tonight. It was knowing that there was an entire part of you I never knew. That someone else—Anthony—knows a part of you that I don’t."

Alastor flinched, and Lucifer finally looked at him again, searching his face, gauging his reaction.

"I didn’t mean to—" Alastor started, but Lucifer cut him off.

"I know you didn’t," he said. "But it doesn’t mean I didn’t feel it."

"Lucifer, please—"

"Let me finish," Lucifer interrupted, holding up a hand. He took a deep breath, the scent of old books and wood smoke filling his lungs. "I know it's irrational. You have a past, so do I. But the thought of you performing like that now, of others experiencing what I thought was just for us…"

He trailed off, his golden eyes distant.

"You know, sometimes I feel like I'm just not enough for you," Lucifer confessed, the admission leaving a sour taste in his mouth.

Alastor's breath caught, a soft, sorrowful sound escaping him. His hands slid up the arms of Lucifer’s chair, pressing closer but still not daring to make contact.

"Darling, that's not true," Alastor replied, his voice heavy-laden. "You are the only one I want, I swear it."

Lucifer's gaze flickered to Alastor's face, taking in the earnest desperation etched into every line. The younger man's usual poise was completely shattered, leaving him raw and vulnerable in a way Lucifer had never seen before.

"I believe you," Lucifer said softly, reaching out to cup Alastor's cheek. "But that doesn't make the hurt disappear."

Alastor leaned into the touch, his eyes fluttering closed. A single tear escaped, trailing down his flushed cheek.

"Tell me how to make this right," Alastor pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll do anything, Lucifer. Anything."

The blonde's heart ached at the sight of his usually composed partner so utterly undone. So sincere.

Lucifer gazed down at Alastor, suddenly struck by how young he looked in that moment.

The usual sharp angles of his face were softened by vulnerability, his hazel eyes wide and pleading. In the flickering firelight, Lucifer could see the faintest traces of laugh lines just beginning to form at the corners of Alastor's eyes—a stark contrast to the deep creases etched into his own face after years of joy and sorrow.

Alastor had never navigated the complexities of a long-term relationship before.

While Lucifer had weathered the storms of a twenty-year marriage.

Six months of fumbling through uncharted emotional territory versus two decades of hard-won wisdom.

Lucifer had been judging Alastor's actions through the lens of his own experiences, expecting a level of relationship savvy that Alastor simply hadn't had the chance to develop yet.

The younger man's frantic confession, his desperate need for absolution—it all stemmed from a place of genuine uncertainty and fear.

"Oh, sweetheart," Lucifer murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I forgot, for a moment, how new all of this is for you."

Alastor's brow furrowed, his hands coming up to grip Lucifer's wrists. "I didn’t understand," he said, his voice hoarse. "I…I never meant to make you feel…"

"I know," Lucifer interrupted gently. "And that's why I’m trying not to be upset with you. You didn't do this out of malice or disregard for my feelings. You simply…didn't realize."

The grandfather clock chimed softly in the corner, marking the late hour. Lucifer glanced at it briefly before turning his attention back to Alastor, who still knelt before him, looking utterly lost.

"Alastor," Lucifer began, his voice soft but firm, "I think, moving forward, I'd prefer if we kept your… dominant side just between us."

The firelight flickered across Alastor's face, highlighting the conflict in his eyes. His lips parted, then closed, as he struggled to find the right words.

"I…of course, darling. I never meant to—" Alastor's usually smooth voice cracked, thick with emotion and lingering intoxication.

“And, if someone from your past shows up again, I want to hear it from you first.”

"I'm so terribly sorry. I should have considered—"

Lucifer leaned forward, pressing a gentle finger to Alastor's lips, effectively silencing his rambling apology.

"Shh," Lucifer soothed, his golden eyes warm with affection. "It's alright, love. I forgive you."

Alastor's shoulders sagged with relief, the tension draining from his body. He leaned into Lucifer's touch, nuzzling against his hand like a cat seeking comfort.

A low chuckle rumbled in Lucifer's chest, fond amusement dancing in his eyes. "Though I have a feeling, I'll need to remind you of this entire conversation in the morning."

Alastor exhaled deeply, his shoulders sagging as the tension he'd been carrying since the party finally released its grip.

The relief was palpable, washing over him in waves that left him feeling almost lightheaded.

Or perhaps that was just the whiskey.

His body swayed precariously, and before he could catch himself, he toppled forward, nearly falling into Lucifer's lap.

Lucifer's arms shot out instinctively, catching Alastor and steadying him. The brunette's face pressed against Lucifer's chest, his glasses askew and his hair a disarrayed mess.

Lucifer gently cupped Alastor's cheek with one hand. His thumb stroked softly over the flushed skin, tracing the faint freckles that dusted Alastor's cheekbones.

The alcohol still coursing through his system made everything feel slightly dreamlike, softening the edges of reality. He found himself captivated by the play of light on Lucifer's face, the way it caught in his hair and made it gleam like spun gold.

Alastor blinked up at him, his hazel eyes slightly unfocused behind his crooked glasses. His lips parted, then closed, as if he were struggling to find the right words.

"Lucifer," Alastor finally whispered, his voice cracking with vulnerability, "you won't…you're not going to leave me, are you?"

The question felt fragile as spun glass.

Lucifer didn’t respond right away.

He sat back in his chair, his golden eyes flickering with something unreadable as the fire crackled between them. The silence stretched, thick and weighted, pressing in on Alastor’s chest like a slow, deliberate squeeze.

For the first time that night, Alastor felt something like fear. Not fear of anger, nor rejection—but of losing the breakable, tenuous thing between them before it had truly settled into permanence.

"I'm not going anywhere." Lucifer murmured, his voice low and rich like honey.

He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Alastor's.

Their breaths mingled in the small space between them, shutting out the rest of the world.

"People make mistakes, Alastor," Lucifer continued, his thumbs caressing Alastor's cheekbones in soothing circles. "It's part of being in a relationship. It’s how you do better that counts."

Alastor's eyes fluttered closed, drinking in Lucifer's words like a man dying of thirst.

A single tear escaped, trailing down his cheek and catching on Lucifer's thumb. The older man gently wiped it away.

"I couldn't bear it if you left," Alastor confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "You've become…everything to me." The admission seemed to cost him greatly.

Lucifer pulled back slightly, his golden eyes searching Alastor's face. The vulnerability he saw there, so raw and unguarded, made his heart ache with a fierce protectiveness.

"Listen to me, sweetheart," Lucifer said, his voice firm but gentle. "I'm not going anywhere. But I need you to promise me something."

Alastor nodded eagerly, his eyes wide and earnest. "Anything," he breathed.

"Promise me," Lucifer murmured, tilting Alastor’s chin up so he had no choice but to meet his gaze. "Not just about this. About everything. No more secrets between us."

Alastor didn’t answer right away. Not because he was hesitating, but because he felt the weight of what was being asked of him—truly, fully, for the first time.

No more holding back. No more guarding himself. No more carefully chosen omissions to protect his pride.

Lucifer wanted everything. And Alastor would give it.

“I promise you, on my life, on the very depths of my soul. On my mother’s grave.”

“Okay, alright, that’s enough ‘on’s.” Lucifer couldn’t help but chuckle. Trust his boyfriend to be falling down drunk and still able to make poetic vows.

"Y’know, this is terrible…but I kinda like seeing you groveling," Lucifer murmured, his voice low and teasing. "We should do it again—when you're sober."

Despite his clouded thoughts, he felt a familiar spark of challenge ignite within him.

Summoning what remained of his composure, Alastor met Lucifer's gaze with a lazy smirk of his own.

His voice was slightly slurred but retained its characteristic smoothness as he fired back, "Be careful what you wish for, my dear. You might find yourself the one begging."

"Alright, you silver-tongued devil," Lucifer chuckled, his voice a blend of exasperation and affection. "Let's get you to bed."

With a gentle but firm grip, Lucifer helped Alastor to his feet.

The taller man swayed slightly, his usual grace momentarily abandoning him. Lucifer's arm snaked around Alastor's waist, steadying him.

"I'm perfectly capable of—" Alastor began to protest, but his words were cut short as he stumbled slightly.

"Of course you are, sweetheart," Lucifer replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Now, up we go. You're going to bed before you talk yourself into more trouble."

As they made their way up the grand staircase, Alastor found himself leaning into Lucifer's solid presence more than he'd care to admit.

The warmth of Lucifer's body against his side was comforting, and Alastor felt a wave of gratitude wash over him.

"You're too good to me," Alastor murmured, his words slightly slurred.

“Pretty sure I say that to you all the time.” Lucifer squeezed him gently.

Once in their bedroom, Lucifer guided Alastor to sit on the edge of the bed. With practiced ease, he began to loosen Alastor's shirt collar, his fingers working deftly at the buttons of his vest.

"I can undress myself," Alastor protested weakly, even as he tilted his chin to give Lucifer better access.

"Humor me," Lucifer replied, sliding the silk tie from around Alastor's neck. "Besides, I like taking care of you for a change."

Alastor found himself mesmerized by the gentleness of the touch.

"There," Lucifer said softly, helping Alastor shrug off the vest. "Much more comfortable."

Alastor nodded, suddenly feeling very tired. "Thank you," he mumbled, fighting to keep his eyes open.

Alastor's eyelids grew heavy as Lucifer worked through getting a t-shirt on him and his pants off.

Then, those fingers were in his hair, trying to straighten out his dented curls as much as he could.

The brunette leaned into the touch, a contented sigh escaping his lips. The warmth radiating from Lucifer's body was mesmerizing, drawing Alastor closer like a moth to a flame.

"You're like a big cat," Lucifer chuckled softly, his breath against Alastor's ear. "I half expect you to start purring."

Alastor tried to muster a witty retort, but his mind was hazy with alcohol and exhaustion. Instead, he nuzzled closer, drinking in Lucifer's comforting scent.

With gentle hands, Lucifer eased Alastor back onto the plush pillows, pulling the silken sheets up to his chest.

The king-sized bed seemed to envelop Alastor, and he felt himself sinking into its embrace.

Just as his consciousness began to slip away, a nagging thought clawed its way to the surface of Alastor's mind.

"There's…more I need to tell you," His eyes fluttered open, catching Lucifer's gaze. "About my past."

Alastor wanted to elaborate, to unburden himself of the secrets he'd carried for so long, but exhaustion pulled at him relentlessly.

Lucifer's fingers continued their gentle caress through Alastor's hair, soothing away the furrow that had formed between his brows. With infinite tenderness, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the brunette’s forehead.

"It can wait until morning," Lucifer murmured.

Alastor's eyes, which had been fighting to stay open, finally drifted closed at Lucifer's words. He let out a long sigh, contentment and lingering worry escaping his lips.

"But…" Alastor mumbled, his words slurring slightly.

"Shh," Lucifer hushed him gently. "You need to sleep. We can talk about whatever you want in the morning. But not tonight."

Alastor wanted to argue, to insist on unburdening himself now, but Lucifer's soothing presence and the allure of sleep were too powerful to resist. He nestled deeper into the pillows, his body relaxing incrementally as Lucifer's fingers continued their gentle ministrations.

As he teetered on the edge of sleep, Alastor's last coherent thought was gratitude for Lucifer's understanding.

Lucifer reached for the plush comforter at the foot of the bed, unfurling it with a gentle snap.

"There we go," Lucifer murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Comfortable, sweetheart?"

Alastor's response was a contented hum, muffled by the pillow. His eyelids fluttered, fighting a losing battle against sleep.

Lucifer settled beside him, one arm draped protectively over Alastor's blanketed form. He pulled him close, savoring the familiar weight and warmth of his partner against his chest.

As they lay there, the soft crackling of the dying fire in the hearth provided a soothing backdrop to the quiet room.

“I don’t care what you were before.” Lucifer murmured. “I only care that you’re mine now.”

The fire popped softly, its warmth seeping into their bones and lulling them both towards sleep.

❣️Ao3❣️Original Fics (1 Year Free)❣️Tumblr❣️

[darcydarlingdabbles]

At Valentine’s Day~ Part 9 - Be Naughty

RadioApple🩷Human Au/Age Gap🩷Top!Dom!Alastor

🩷Divorced Dad!Lucifer🩷Explicit

Ribbon tight, command held true, Just a game—or something new? The past whispers, secrets spun, But was it all just harmless fun?

🩷🩷🩷

❣️Ao3❣️Original Fics (1 Year Free)❣️Tumblr❣️

The moment Alastor stepped into the private lounge, he started to question his decision to attend this bachelorette party.

Twinkling fairy lights cast a soft glow over plush velvet couches, while bottles of champagne chilled in silver buckets. All fine and rather elegant looking…until his eyes narrowed at the garish novelty decorations strewn about.

Including the anatomically correct rainbow pinata in the corner.

Alastor repressed a groan—the things he was willing to endure for his best friend.

"Al! You made it!" Charlie's exuberant voice cut through the din as she bounded over, her blonde hair bouncing with each step. She threw her arms around him in a tight hug that nearly knocked the breath from his lungs.

"Of course, my dear," Alastor replied smoothly, extricating himself from her tight squeeze. "I wouldn't miss this for the world."

The lie tasted bitter on his tongue, but he swallowed it down with a practiced smile.

"Glad you could join us," Vaggie appeared at Charlie's side, her expression a mix of amusement and skepticism. "We weren't sure if this would be your…scene."

Alastor's smile tightened. "I assure you, I'm full of surprises."

Charlie clapped her hands together, her enthusiasm infectious.

"Oh, this is going to be so much fun! We have sashes for everyone." She proudly adjusted her own 'bride' sash before presenting Alastor with one that read 'man of honor'.

"Ah, how…charming."He eyed the gaudy accessory with thinly veiled disdain.

"You have to wear it, Al!" Charlie pleaded, her eyes wide and hopeful. "Pretty please? For me?"

Alastor sighed internally, wondering how he always found himself in these situations.

With great reluctance, he allowed Charlie to drape the sash over his impeccably tailored vest. The synthetic fabric felt like a constant reminder of how out of place he was in this world of frilly femininity.

Charlie introduced him, again, to the other guests—Emily's bubbly enthusiasm, Lute's stern nod, and Cherri's mischievous grin.

"Just try not to rain on Charlie's parade, okay? This means a lot to her." Vaggie's lips quirked into a small smile.

Alastor nodded, his resolve strengthening.

For Charlie's sake, he would endure this evening of debauchery and forced merriment. He straightened his posture, adjusted his glasses, and plastered on his most convincing smile.

"Well then," he said, reaching for a flute of champagne, "shall we get this party started?"

Anthony sauntered into the center of the room, his cheeks already flushed—though that could be from his makeup.

"Alright, my beautiful degenerates!" He raised his glass high, liquid sloshing dangerously close to the rim. "We have booze, we have games, we have a piñata in the shape of a dick—this is going to be the most legendary bachelorette party in history!"

Alastor winced internally at the crass declaration, but maintained his composed exterior.

He lifted his own glass to his lips, taking a measured sip of the crisp champagne. The bubbles danced on his tongue, a stark contrast to the mild distaste he felt for the situation.

"My, my," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. "What an…eclectic array of entertainment you've arranged, Anthony."

Charlie caught his eye from across the room, her expression a mix of excitement and pleading.

Alastor offered her a small, reassuring smile. He may not be thrilled with the proceedings, but he wouldn't let his discomfort dampen her joy.

Anthony clapped his hands together, drawing everyone's attention.

"Now, let's kick things off with our first game: How Well Do You Know the Brides!" He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "And trust me, toots, these questions are going to get deliciously naughty."

As the group gathered around, Alastor hung back slightly, positioning himself on the periphery. He observed the giggly excitement of the other guests, noting the way Charlie leaned into Vaggie, their fingers intertwined.

A warmth spread through his chest at the sight of their happiness, momentarily overshadowing his discomfort.

Perhaps, he mused, enduring a few hours of this revelry was a small price to pay for supporting their union.

Anthony sauntered around the room, distributing small wooden paddles to each guest. One side bore Charlie's name in looping script, while the other displayed Vaggie's in bold, angular letters.

"Alright, ladies—and gent," Anthony announced with a flourish. "Our lovely brides-to-be will sit right here in the hot seat." He gestured to a plush loveseat adorned with glittering heart-shaped pillows.

Charlie giggled as she settled onto the seat, tugging Vaggie down beside her.

"Now, my darling brides," Anthony continued, producing a stack of cards with a dramatic wave. "I'll ask the questions, and you lovely degenerates will vote on who you think the answer applies to. Charlie or Vaggie?"

He demonstrated by flipping his own paddle back and forth.

“Then our brides will tell us their answer.” Anthony gestured to the paddles Vaggie and Charlie were holding.

Alastor twirled his paddle between his long fingers from where he stood behind the sofa that Cherri, Lute, and Emily occupied.

This might prove more amusing than he'd anticipated.

"First question!" Anthony's voice rang out. "Who's the early bird in this relationship?"

A flurry of paddles went up, a sea of ‘Vaggie’ facing the room. Charlie pouted playfully as Vaggie raised her own paddle.

“Hey!” Charlie said, with a little mock of an indignant huff.

"Someone has to make sure this one doesn't sleep through breakfast." Vaggie nudged her fiance affectionately.

The questions continued, growing increasingly personal with each round.

"Who's more likely to cry during a movie?"

Alastor answered confidently Charlie, along with the majority.

"Who's the better cook?"

Vaggie, obviously, given Charlie's sheepish grin.

As the champagne flowed freely, Anthony's questions took a decidedly more risqué turn.

"Ooh, here's a spicy one!" the wedding planner’s eyes gleamed with naughtiness. "Who's more likely to suggest trying something new in the bedroom?"

A chorus of giggles erupted as paddles wavered uncertainly. Alastor, however, didn't hesitate.

Charlie's cheeks flushed crimson as she slowly raised her paddle, confirming Alastor's assertion. Vaggie shot him a look.

"My, my, Alastor," Anthony purred. "You seem to know our brides quite intimately. Care to share your secrets?"

Alastor's smile never wavered. "A gentleman never reveals his his secrets, or someone else’s."

The game continued, each question eliciting a new wave of giggles and blushes from the assembled guests. Alastor remained composed, his posture perfect as he ordered a drink from a cocktail waitress.

Despite his initial reluctance, he found himself increasingly engaged in the frivolous game.

"Who's more likely to initiate a quickie in a public place?" Anthony asked with a salacious wink.

The room erupted in squeals and laughter as paddles wavered uncertainly. Alastor, however, raised his paddle without hesitation, Charlie's name facing outward.

Charlie's face turned a shade of red that rivaled her bride sash as she sheepishly raised her own paddle.

"Charlie!" Vaggie exclaimed. "I didn't think you'd admit to that one!"

The blonde buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with embarrassed laughter. "I can't help it if I find you irresistible, babe," she mumbled through her fingers.

As the laughter died down, Vaggie's gaze settled on Alastor, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Okay, how did you know that one? You're getting all of these right."

Alastor's smile never faltered as he took a sip of his whiskey sour.

"My dear Vaggie, Charlie and I talk, often. I offer my advice." he said smoothly. "You're welcome."

The room fell silent for a moment before erupting into a cacophony of whoops and hollers. Charlie's blush deepened, if that was even possible, while Vaggie's mouth opened and closed wordlessly.

"Oh my God, Charlie!" Emily squealed, fanning herself dramatically. "You've been getting sex tips from Alastor?"

"It's not like that!" Charlie groaned, burying her face in Vaggie's shoulder. "Al's just…really good at giving relationship advice."

“I merely provide the occasional suggestion.” Alastor chuckled softly, adjusting his glasses. “The execution is entirely up to our lovely brides-to-be.”

Anthony clapped his hands together. "Well, well, well! Man of honor, you’ve been holding out on us. I think we need to hear more about these 'suggestions' of yours."

"I'm afraid that information is strictly confidential." Alastor raised an eyebrow, his smile taking on a hint of challenge.

The room dissolved into laughter once more, the atmosphere electric with curiosity and excitement. Vaggie shook her head, a reluctant smile on her lips.

Alastor's smirk deepened as he took a sip of his whiskey sour, the burn of alcohol barely registering.

"Alright, ladies—and gentleman," he winked at Alastor, "time for our next game: Pin the Bow on the Bride!"

Charlie perked up and she bounced to her feet. "Ooh, this sounds fun!" she exclaimed, tugging Vaggie up with her.

Alastor watched as the two brides-to-be made their way to the center of the room, surrounded by plush couches and twinkling fairy lights. The soft glow cast a warm hue on Charlie's flushed cheeks.

"Alright, Vaggie, you're up first," Anthony announced, handing her a silky bowtie. "Let's see if you can dress your bride properly."

Vaggie's face softened as she gazed at Charlie, her usual stern expression melting away.

"Easy," she murmured, stepping forward with a grace that belied her slight tipsiness.

With deft fingers, Vaggie looped the bowtie around Charlie's neck, adjusting it with care. Her touch lingered, causing Charlie to shiver slightly.

Alastor found himself averting his gaze.

"Perfect!" Charlie beamed, admiring Vaggie's handiwork. "My turn!"

"Go get 'er, toots," Anthony handed Charlie another bow, this one adorned with tiny rhinestones.

Charlie giggled, the champagne clearly having its effect as she swayed slightly.

"Okay, hold still, babe," she instructed, her tongue poking out in concentration.

Alastor watched, amused, as Charlie circled Vaggie, clearly aiming for her fiancée's long dark hair. However, at the last moment, Charlie stumbled slightly.

With another giggle, she reached out and firmly planted the bow on Vaggie's ass.

"Charlie!" Vaggie yelped, spinning around.

"Oops?" Charlie offered innocently, before dissolving into a fit of laughter.

Alastor couldn't help but chuckle, raising his glass in a silent toast to the happy couple. Despite his earlier concerns, seeing them like this—playful, affectionate, and utterly devoted—warmed even his cynical heart.

"Ladies and gentleman, it's piñata time!" Anthony announced with a flourish, brandishing what was unmistakably a penis-shaped decoration.

"Good lord," Alastor felt his eyebrows climb towards his hairline, torn between amusement and mild horror.

As Anthony hung the anatomically dubious creation from a hook in the ceiling, Alastor observed the room's reactions.

Charlie clapped her hands in delight, while Vaggie rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her smirk.

Emily and Lute exchanged scandalized glances, and Cherri whooped with enthusiasm.

"Who wants first crack?" Anthony asked, twirling a blindfold enticingly.

One by one, the girls took their turns, stumbling and swinging wildly as Anthony spun them around.

Their attempts were spectacularly unsuccessful, but filled the room with peals of laughter.

"Damn, this thing's harder than it looks," Cherri grumbled, rubbing her shoulder after a particularly enthusiastic miss.

"Hey, Al," Anthony's gaze settled on Alastor, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "You've used a cane blindfolded before. Wanna show these amateurs how it's done?"

Alastor felt a flutter of…something in his chest. Anticipation? Nostalgia? He tamped it down, schooling his features into a look of polite disinterest.

"I think I'll pass, thank you," he replied smoothly.

But the damage was done.

The girls, fueled by alcohol and the excitement of the evening, latched onto the idea with fervor.

"Oh, come on, Al!" Charlie pleaded, her eyes wide and sparkling.

"Yeah, show us your moves!" Cherri added with a wink.

Alastor's resolve wavered.

He'd always prided himself on being in control, on keeping his past firmly separate from his present. But surrounded by the warmth and joy of this celebration, watching Charlie's eager face, and maybe with a little alcohol loosening his shirt collar…he felt an unfamiliar urge to let his guard down, just a little.

"Very well," he conceded with a sigh, setting down his drink. "But I make no promises about the outcome."

As he stood, straightening his vest, Alastor couldn't help but wonder if he was making a mistake. But the chorus of delighted cheers from the assembled party goers drowned out his doubts.

Anthony approached Alastor with exaggerated flair, brandishing a silky blindfold. "Let's give 'em a show, shall we?" he murmured, just low enough for Alastor to hear.

"Do try to behave yourself, Anthony," Alastor quirked an eyebrow, a half-hearted glare flickering across his face.

As Anthony made a show of tying the blindfold, Alastor's world went dark.

The sounds of the room intensified—giggles from the tipsy girls, the clink of ice in glasses, the rustle of fabric as people shifted on the couches.

He inhaled deeply, centering himself.

"Here you go, big shot," Anthony's voice came from his left, pressing the smooth wood of the cane into Alastor's hand.

Alastor's fingers curled around the familiar weight, muscle memory from countless performances flooding back. He took a careful step forward, extending the cane. It made contact with something solid but hollow, and he allowed himself a small smirk.

Slowly, deliberately, he dragged the cane along the shape of the piñata.

His mind painted a vivid picture of the ridiculous penis-shaped target, and he had to stifle a chuckle. The room had gone oddly quiet, as if everyone was holding their breath.

In one fluid motion, Alastor drew back the cane and struck. The satisfying 'crack' of impact was followed immediately by a shower of what he assumed were candies hitting the floor.

The girls erupted into laughter, their voices a cacophony of delight and disbelief.

"Holy shit!" Cherri's voice broke the silence. "What was the piñata's safe word?" she quipped, causing another wave of giggles.

Alastor removed the blindfold, blinking as his eyes readjusted to the low light. He couldn't quite keep the smug grin off his face as he surveyed the carnage—piñata fragments and colorful sweets littered the floor.

Penis and vulva-shaped sweets. Lovely.

"Well," he said, twirling the cane with a flourish, "I do hope that was sufficiently entertaining."

Alastor settled back onto the plush couch, crossing his legs and smoothing his slightly rumpled shirt. He allowed himself a small, satisfied smile. The familiar rush of performance tingled through his veins, mingling pleasantly with the alcohol's warmth.

"Wait, how do you know how to do that?" Emily, her cheeks flushed from drinking, leaned forward, her eyes wide with drunken curiosity.

For a split second, Alastor froze, weighing the implications of honesty against the merits of discretion.

He caught Anthony's eye across the room, noting the impish grin there.

"I'm simply talented, my dear," Composing himself, Alastor's lips curled into a smooth, enigmatic smile.

Emily giggled, seemingly satisfied with the non-answer.

Alastor relaxed ever so slightly, grateful for the distraction as Anthony bustled around, refreshing everyone's drinks.

"Alright, my lovelies," Anthony announced, his voice carrying a hint of playful menace. "Time for our next game—'Never Have I Ever'!"

A tendril of apprehension—and perhaps a touch of excitement— curled in his stomach.

"We'll start nice and easy," Anthony continued, settling into his seat with a fresh cocktail. "Who wants to go first?"

As the first innocent questions began, Alastor sipped his drink, his mind wandering.

He wondered, briefly, what Lucifer might think of all this.

Charlie admitted she'd never been snowboarding and Vaggie confessed to a childhood shoplifting incident.

Alastor found himself relaxing, the alcohol's warmth spreading through his body, loosening the tight control he usually maintained.

"Never have I ever…tied someone up," Anthony drawled, his gaze fixed on Alastor.

Without hesitation, Alastor raised his glass to his lips, taking a measured sip. He noticed Charlie and Cherri doing the same from the corner of his eye.

The room erupted in giggles and playful jeers.

"Oh, do tell, Al," Anthony purred, leaning forward. "Was it for business or pleasure?"

“Well,” Alastor's lips quirked into a smirk. “Why can’t it be both?”

As the questions continued, each more daring than the last, Alastor found himself drinking more often than not. The alcohol buzzed pleasantly in his veins, making the edges of the world soft and warm.

"Never have I ever used a safe word," Emily ventured, her eyes wide with curiosity.

Alastor chuckled low in his throat as he raised his glass once more. "Darling, in my line of work, safe words are essential," he murmured, his usual filter slipping just a bit.

Anthony's eyes practically glittered as he leaned forward, his gaze fixed on Alastor.

"Never have I ever…" he paused dramatically, savoring the moment, "spanked someone in front of a room full of people."

A hush fell over the group, punctuated by a few nervous giggles. Alastor felt all eyes turn to him, expectant and curious.

With deliberate slowness, he raised his glass to his lips and took a long sip, maintaining eye contact with Anthony over the rim.

The room erupted in a cacophony of gasps and exclamations. Emily’s eyes widened in surprise, while Vaggie's eyebrows shot up to her hairline.

Cherri let out a low whistle of appreciation.

"Oh my God, Alastor! You have to tell us more. When? Where? Why?" Emily, her inhibitions lowered by the champagne, leaned forward eagerly.

Alastor set his glass down carefully, adjusting his glasses as he considered his response.

The memory of that night, of many nights, flashed through his mind—the dim lighting of the club, the expectant hush of the crowd, the sharp crack of leather against skin.

He allowed a small, enigmatic smile to play across his lips.

"I assure you, my dear," he said smoothly, his voice carrying a hint of amusement, "it was purely professional. A demonstration, if you will, for a rather…specialized audience."

The vague answer only seemed to fuel the group's curiosity.

"What kind of specialized audience?" Lute asked, the heavy disbelief in her voice colored with curiosity.

Alastor chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm in the intimate space. "Now, now," he admonished gently, "Let's just say it was an educational experience for all involved."

Cherri leaned forward, her pink hair haven fallen over her face but her visible eye bright. “Wait, so you’ve been a Dom, professionally? Like paid to do it?”

Alastor's smile sharpened, a hint of pride coloring his voice. "Indeed, I have."

"That's hot as hell!" Cherri whooped, raising her glass in a toast.

Emily and Lute exchanged glances, shock and fascination painted across their features.

Charlie giggled, the alcohol loosening her tongue. "That's actually how Al and I met!" she blurted out, oblivious to the raised eyebrows around her.

Alastor felt a flutter of warmth in his chest, remembering that day. He hadn't expected the bright-eyed blonde in the pink sweater to become such an integral part of his life.

"He was giving a demonstration, and I just happened to stumble in…"

Alastor's vision swam slightly as he leaned back, the alcohol finally catching up with him. He chuckled, his usual composure slipping just a bit.

"Oh, but it was quite the sight," he mused, his voice a low, velvet purr. "There she was, in that adorably fluffy pink sweater, looking so out of place among the leather and lace."

"Al!" Charlie's cheeks flushed a deep crimson, but her eyes sparkled with mirth.

"You should have seen her face when I picked up that paddle," Alastor continued, thoroughly enjoying himself now. "I thought she might faint on the spot."

The room erupted in giggles and gasps. Vaggie snorted into her drink, while Emily covered her mouth in mock scandal.

Alastor's mind drifted, recalling the thrill of commanding a room, the power in every controlled movement.

A small, devious smile played at his lips. "Though I must say," he added, emboldened by the whiskey coursing through his veins, "that particular demonstration was rather…tame compared to some of the private shows Anthony and I used to put on."

The words left his mouth before he could fully consider their impact.

The room fell silent for a heartbeat, then erupted with a cacophony of excited voices.

"Wait, what?" Lute, Emily, and Cherri exclaimed in near-perfect unison, their eyes wide with tipsy curiosity. Even Charlie looked flabbergasted.

Alastor felt a flush creep up his neck, the alcohol in his system making it harder to maintain his usual composure.

He opened his mouth to deflect, but Anthony beat him to it.

"Alastor and I used to put on quite the show." Anthony's voice was pure delight, his grin positively wicked.

Damn you, Anthony.

Alastor couldn’t help but chuckle, a tipsy grin spreading across his face as he felt the eyes of the room on him. He took a generous sip of his drink, savoring the moment.

Anthony, clearly enjoying himself, leaned forward with a gleam in his eye. "We had a whole act—stage names and all I was Angel Dust, the cheeky little tease, and Al here was…" He waved his hand theatrically toward Alastor.

"…The Demon," Alastor declared softly, his voice low but filled with pride and nostalgia.

"A teasing innocent and an aloof gentleman Dom? That was gold, toots!" Anthony continued, practically bouncing with enthusiasm.

Alastor hadn't thought about those days in ages, and sharing it now, amidst Charlie's friends, tittering and tipsy, felt forbidden.

And thrilling.

"It was quite the gig, wasn't it?" he said playfully, adjusting his glasses with a conspiratorial wink.

Even as he spoke, the memories danced in his mind—the exhilaration of the performance, the surge of power, the way he could captivate an audience with just a gesture.

It had been intoxicating, indeed.

And now, with everyone's eager eyes on him, he felt a spark of that old excitement igniting within him

Anthony leaned forward, mischief written all over his grin and his mismatched eyes.

"C'mon, sir," he teased, his voice slipping effortlessly into the bratty tone he'd used in their past performances. "You're too buttoned-up to just sit there all night. Show us what you've got."

Alastor arched a brow, sipping his drink to mask his surprise as the familiar dynamic sent a jolt through him, awakening muscle memories he thought long forgotten.

"What exactly are you suggesting, Anthony?" he asked, his voice low and controlled.

"I'm saying, let's give the happy couple a preview of how you used to work the room. Nothing sleazy, just a little… demonstration." Anthony laughed, gesturing dramatically to their captivated audience.

Alastor pursed his lips as he thought it over.

Part of him wanted to shut this down immediately, to maintain the carefully crafted image he'd built since those days. But another part, fueled by the alcohol and the electric energy in the room, was intrigued.

He glanced at Charlie, seeing her eyes wide with curiosity and excitement.

"Pleeease, Al!" his best friend pleaded, her words slightly slurred from the champagne. "Just a little show!"

Vaggie smirked beside her, clearly amused by her fiancée's enthusiasm. Alastor knew that look—Vaggie wouldn't intervene. Charlie wouldn't let this go.

With a sigh that was equal parts resignation and apprehension, Alastor set down his glass. "Very well," he said smoothly, though his voice held a hint of amusement. "But only because it's for you, darling."

As he rose to his feet, Alastor felt a familiar persona settling over him like a second skin.

The Demon. Commanding, controlled, with just a hint of danger. He loosened his bowtie, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

This might be interesting after all.

Alastor glided to the center of the room, his movements fluid and purposeful. He wasn’t and never had been a sloppy drunk, but The slight buzz from the alcohol heightened his awareness of every eye upon him.

He swept his gaze across the assembled group, noting the anticipation and curiosity on their faces.

"Now then," Alastor purred, his voice low and velvety. He turned to Anthony, arching an eyebrow. "You are volunteering to…assist me, aren’t you Angel?” He asked, with an offer of his hand.

Anthony downed the rest of his drink, and let Alastor help him up to the center of the velvet couches.

“I trust your safe word is still the same.” The brunette asked, in a very brusk, business-like tone.

"You know it, sir. 'Pineapple' is still the magic word." Anthony grinned. “And you still have the same boundaries about touching?”

“Yes,” Alastor nodded, a small smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of sentimentality for their old performances.

As Alastor contemplated his next move, he felt a familiar thrill coursing through his veins.

It had been years since he'd stepped into this role, but it felt as natural as breathing.

He knew he should feel more hesitant, more conflicted about revisiting this part of his past. But in this moment, with the energy of the room crackling around him, all he felt was alive.

"Very well," Alastor murmured, his eyes narrowing slightly as he focused on Anthony. "Shall we begin?"

The bleach blonde nodded, and he wasn’t the only one.

Alastor's gaze fell upon a silken scarf draped over the back of a nearby chair, its bright pink hue catching the soft light of the room.

He plucked it up, letting the smooth fabric slide between his fingers. The weight of it, the cool sensation against his skin, grounded him in the moment.

He turned back to Anthony, twirling the scarf with a practiced flick of his wrist. The motion was hypnotic, drawing all eyes in the room.

Alastor could feel the tension building, a delicious anticipation hanging in the air.

"Angel, dear," Alastor purred, his voice dropping to a low, commanding timbre that sent a visible shiver through the room. "You should know better than to taunt me."

As the words left his lips, Alastor felt a familiar rush of power. This ability to command attention, to bend others to his will with just his voice and presence.

He allowed himself a small, predatory smile, reveling in the way Anthony's eyes widened slightly in response.

Oh, how he missed this feeling.

He pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on the electricity, on the rapt attention of their audience.

This was a performance, after all, and Alastor was nothing if not a consummate showman.

Anthony's grin widened, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he crossed his arms and leaned back in mock defiance.

The gesture was pure Angel Dust, a perfect echo of their past performances.

"Oh, what are you gonna do, sir?" Anthony drawled, his voice dripping with feigned innocence. "Tie me up with that scarf?"

Alastor’s lips curled into a smirk as he stepped closer, maintaining an aura of absolute control. The room seemed to shrink, narrowing to just the two of them.

"Perhaps I will," Alastor murmured, his voice low and smooth. He gestured elegantly with one hand. "Hold out your wrists, darling."

Anthony obliged without hesitation, clearly relishing the theatrics.

With a deft hand, Alastor grasped Anthony's shoulders and spun him around, eliciting a soft gasp from his willing captive.

The silk scarf unfurled like a ribbon in his practiced fingers as he bound Anthony's wrists behind his back, creating an intricate pattern that was as much art as restraint.

"Too tight?" Alastor murmured, his breath ghosting over Anthony's ear.

“No sir.”

The watching women tittered and whispered, their excitement palpable. Alastor caught Charlie's eye and saw her give an encouraging nod, her cheeks flushed with alcohol and delight.

"Go on, Demon!" Cherri called out, her phone suspiciously held at eye level. "Teach us somethin’!"

Alastor hesitated for a split second. This was escalating quickly, and a part of him wondered if he should stop. But the alcohol buzzing in his veins and the expectant faces around him pushed him forward.

He reached for the discarded cane from the piñata game, its smooth surface cool against his palm.

"Very well," he purred, guiding Anthony towards an overstuffed ottoman between the sofas. "Bend over, my dear. Let's give our audience a proper demonstration."

As Anthony complied, arching his back invitingly like the professional he was. Like the both had been.

e. It was so familiar, yet so different in this context. He raised the cane, acutely aware of the eyes upon him, feeling both exhilarated and strangely vulnerable.

Alastor ran the cane slowly up along the outside of Anthony's legs, feeling the familiar rhythm of a performance settling into his bones.

He cleared his throat, adopting the smooth, authoritative tone he'd perfected over years of demonstrations.

"Now, ladies, the key to safe impact play is knowing where to strike," he explained, tapping Anthony's thigh lightly. "Avoid joints and bones—that can cause real damage. The sweet spots are here," he dragged the cane across Anthony's upper thighs, "and here." He rested it against the curve of the other man’s ass.

Without warning, Alastor brought the cane down with a sharp crack against Anthony's thigh.

The blonde let out a surprised yelp that quickly dissolved into a giggle.

"Harder, sir!" Anthony teased, wiggling his hips provocatively.

Alastor rolled his eyes at Anthony's antics, though a small smirk played at the corner of his lips.

The familiar banter, the push and pull of their dynamic, was as alluring as the whiskey coursing through his veins. He adjusted his grip on the cane, feeling the smooth wood against his palm, the weight of it an extension of his arm.

"Patience, Angel," Alastor purred, his voice low and rich with promise. "You know better than to rush me."

With practiced precision, Alastor brought the cane down again, striking the exact same spot on Anthony's thigh.

The crack of impact echoed through the room, followed immediately by Anthony's sharp yelp of surprise and pain.

"Fuck!" Anthony gasped, his body tensing beneath the silken bonds.

Alastor leaned in close, his breath hot against Anthony's ear. "Language, darling," he admonished softly, though there was a hint of amusement in his tone.

Straightening up, Alastor addressed the rapt audience, his voice taking on a professorial tone.

"You see, ladies," he explained, trailing the cane lightly over the reddening mark on Anthony's thigh, "striking the same area repeatedly intensifies the sensation. The nerves are already sensitized from the first impact, making each subsequent hit more…potent."

To demonstrate, he tapped the cane lightly against the mark, causing Anthony to shiver and let out a soft whimper.

The room was thick with tension, the air magnetic with anticipation and curiosity.

Alastor could feel the weight of their gazes, could practically taste their fascination on his tongue.

It was heady, this power, this control. He'd forgotten how much he'd missed it.

"And that, my dears, is how it's done," Alastor concluded, straightening up. He set the cane aside, acutely aware of the heat in his cheeks.

"Now, it's crucial to know how to release your partner quickly," With practiced ease, Alastor reached for the knot binding Anthony's wrists. He pulled the silk free, letting it slither to the floor.

"Aw, but what if I wanted a different kind of release?" Anthony turned, grinning wickedly.

Alastor huffed, fighting the urge to roll his eyes again.

"That's quite enough of that, Anthony," he said firmly, though he couldn't quite keep the amusement from his voice.

The air buzzed with excitement, thick with the scent of perfume and drinks.

Charlie's eyes were wide with wonder, her cheeks flushed a deep red that matched her bride sash.

Vaggie, usually so composed, looked torn between shock and fascination.

Emily and Lute huddled together on the plush velvet couch, whispering furiously and stealing glances at Alastor.

Cherri, ever the wild card, was practically bouncing in her seat, her phone still suspiciously aimed in his direction.

Anthony stretched languidly, the silk scarf still dangling from one wrist. He winked at Alastor, a silent acknowledgment of their shared past and the unexpected thrill of revisiting it.

The blonde sauntered back to his seat, an exaggerated sway in his hips that drew giggles from the assembled guests.

Alastor smoothed down his vest, adjusting his glasses with a practiced motion. The familiar rush of performance still thrummed through his veins, mingling with the pleasant buzz.

He felt oddly light, as if a weight he hadn't realized he'd been carrying had been lifted.

"Well, ladies," he said, his voice rich with amusement, "I do hope that was… educational."

The room erupted in cheers and applause, punctuated by wolf whistles from Cherri.

Charlie stumbled to her feet, nearly tripping over her own sash in her enthusiasm.

"Oh my God, Al!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug. "That was amazing! "

Alastor chuckled, this time accepting Charlie’s prolonged embrace. "My dear, there's quite a lot you don't know about me," he teased, tapping her nose affectionately.

I'm not sure I'll ever look at you the same way again." Vaggie approached, showing her admiration and lingering skepticism.

"Perhaps that's for the best," Alastor replied with a wink, earning a laugh from the usually stern woman.

As the excitement began to settle, Alastor found himself at the center of a whirlwind of questions and compliments.

The bridesmaids, emboldened by alcohol and the night's revelations, peppered him with increasingly personal inquiries. He deflected with practiced ease.

He wouldn’t give any details about himself or more intimate acts with Lucifer.

Those were two separate lives, as far as Alastor was concerned.

❣️Ao3❣️Original Fics (1 Year Free)❣️Tumblr❣️

[darcydarlingdabbles]

At Valentine’s Day~ Part 8 - You're Mine

RadioApple🩷Human Au/Age Gap🩷Top!Dom!Alastor

🩷Divorced Dad!Lucifer🩷Explicit

Oh, darling, you should know by now—I don’t settle for second best.So let me kiss away those doubts,And ruin you like I do best.

🩷🩷🩷

❣️Ao3❣️Original Fics (1 Year Free)❣️Tumblr❣️

The shattered remains of confetti glittered on the polished marble floor of Morningstar Mansion, a kaleidoscope of colors catching the light as Lucifer swept them into a dustpan.

He paused, straightening up with a subtle wince, his back protesting the motion.

Across the room, Alastor hummed contentedly as he gathered empty champagne flutes onto a tray.

"Well, that was quite the little party, wasn't it?" Alastor chirped, his ever-present smile somehow brighter than usual. "I'd say we knocked it out of the park!"

Lucifer forced a chuckle, but it sounded hollow, even to his own ears.

"Yeah, it was a great time all around." He glanced at his reflection in a nearby mirror, noting the lines at the corners of his eyes that seemed more pronounced than ever. Lilith's words echoed in his mind, sharp as knives.

Alastor's head tilted slightly, curiosity and concern tugging at the corners of his smile. "Something the matter, darling? You seem a tad…off."

Lucifer's lips curved into a sardonic smile.

"Off? What, no, not at all." He twirled the broom with a flourish, nearly dropping it in the process. "Just some, things towards the end."

"Oh?" Alastor's eyes narrowed. “Did Lilith say something?”

Lucifer waved a hand dismissively, but there was a brittle edge. "Just a little ribbing about how we were getting older. Shouldn’t bother me."

“Lucifer…”

“It’s fine. Alastor.”

He was downplaying it, of course. But he knew how Alastor would react—overreact.

Not in a bad way, exactly. Lucifer loved it, normally, whenever he let himself be taken care of. But he wasn’t about to let his oversensitivities ruin his daughter’s wedding.

“My daughter’s getting married, it should make me feel a little old.” Lucifer shrugged his shoulders as he added a glass to the tray Alastor was holding. “It’s normal. Nothing to do with her.”

Alastor remained silent, but his eyes tracked Lucifer's every movement with laser-like focus.

He observed the subtle tells in the older man’s demeanor.

The slight stiffness in the fallen angel's shoulders, the way his fingers drummed an erratic rhythm against the broom handle, the fleeting shadows that passed across his face when he thought no one was looking—all spoke volumes to Alastor's keen senses.

As they made their way to the edge of the party, weaving between the last few lingering guests, Lucifer's veneer began to crack further.

"You know," Lucifer said, his tone aiming for casual but missing the mark, "Maybe I should consider some, enhancements?"

He let out a laugh that didn't quite reach his eyes, the sound hollow and strained.

“Not like I can’t afford it.”

Alastor opened his mouth to speak, but Lucifer quickly shuffled off with the broom and dustpan.

Lucifer's gaze drifted to the nearest reflective surface as they came into the kitchen, his eyes catching on Alastor's reflection standing beside him.

The contrast was stark—Alastor's tall, lean frame exuding an air of youthful vitality, while Lucifer's own reflection seemed to shrink in comparison.

A pang of envy, sharp and unexpected, lanced through Lucifer's chest.

Turning to face Alastor directly, Lucifer adopted a teasing tone. “You’d tell me if I was going gray, right," he said, running a hand through his pale hair, "or…balding, right?”

Alastor blinked at him, and his full head of blonde hair. “I always help you look your best, yes.” He answered, his tone uncertain.

“Right, of course.” Lucifer forced a chuckle and a shrug. “You do the best you can with what you have.”

His words were light, playful even, but Alastor wasn’t fooled.

“Maybe I should start dying it.’ Lucifer ran a hand through his blond hair, his fingers lingering at the temples where a few silver strands had begun to appear. He forced a chuckle, turning to Alastor with a brittle smile. "What do you think, darling? Might help me keep up with you.”

Lucifer's golden eyes searched Alastor's face, silently pleading for reassurance even as he tried to maintain his facade of nonchalance.

Alastor's hazel eyes flickered with understanding, a slow, deliberate smile spreading across his face. He adjusted his glasses, the gesture calm and measured.

“Darling, you’ve never had trouble keeping up with me.”

Lucifer blushed, brilliantly. And then blustered. “I mean, I didn’t mean…not like that.” He huffed, rolling a dismissive hand. “I mean, what people think when they see us…together.”

"You know what I think," Alastor said, his rich voice low and controlled, "that what we need is a moment away from all this fuss. Come with me."

Without waiting for a response, Alastor placed a hand on the small of Lucifer's back, guiding him away from the bustling of the party clean up towards the kitchen.

Lucifer found himself keenly aware of the contrast between them.

Alastor moved with easy grace, nodding politely to guests as they passed, while Lucifer felt awkward and exposed, certain that everyone could see his insecurities written plainly on his face.

Surely, soon enough, Alastor was going to realize it.

He’d see what Lilith saw…what everyone must see.

And then…

But Alastor's hand remained steady on his back, guiding him towards the stairs.

The heavy oak door of the wine cellar closed behind them with a soft thud, followed by the definitive click of the lock. Lucifer's heart skipped a beat as Alastor turned to face him, those hazel eyes now dark with intent.

"Uh…Alastor," Lucifer started, aiming for levity, "What are we doing down here?"

His words were cut short as Alastor stepped forward, closing the distance between them.

The blonde found himself retreating, his back pressing against a sturdy wooden rack filled with vintage bottles.

"Lucifer," Alastor's voice was a low, rich purr that tingled over every inch of his skin. "Do you truly believe that age could in anyway diminish your allure?"

"I—well, it's not exactly uncommon for—" Lucifer swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry.

"Do you have an idea…" Alastor interrupted, his hand coming to rest on the shelf beside Lucifer's head. “How very possessive you make me?”

“Possessive?” Lucifer's breath caught in his throat, his golden eyes wide as he searched Alastor's face. "Alastor, you know I'm yours. Completely. I would never—"

"Oh, I know," Alastor purred, his fingers trailing along Lucifer's jawline. "But that doesn't stop others from looking. From wanting."

"What? No, that's—that doesn't happen. You're imagining things." Lucifer spluttered, a blush rising to his cheeks.

Alastor's laugh was low and dark, sending shivers down Lucifer's spine. "Am I? You don't see the way they stare, love. The hunger in their eyes when you walk by."

"Just the other night, a server nearly slipped you her number." His hand slid down to Lucifer's neck, thumb pressing gently against his pulse point. “And don’t get me started on the wedding planner’s constant flirtations.”

Lucifer's mind raced, trying to recall the interactions Alastor mentioned. He'd been so caught up in his own insecurities, he hadn't noticed anyone's attention.

"Every time it happens," Alastor continued, his voice a growl now, "I want to sink my teeth into you. Mark you. Show everyone who you belong to."

His lips brushed against Lucifer's ear, breath hot against his skin.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to restrain myself? To not bend you over the nearest surface and take you right there?"

Lucifer's knees went weak, a soft whimper escaping his lips. Alastor…didn’t talk like this. Well, he did talk dirty yes, frequently.

But that was, in bed, or in their play room. After a scene where he’d had time to get worked up.

This felt like the other night, at the kitchen table, where a switch just flipped and suddenly Alastor was on him.

"You don't see it," Alastor murmured, nipping at Lucifer's earlobe. "How magnetic you are. How you command attention without even trying."

His hand slid lower, fingers splaying across Lucifer's chest. "Every line, every silver hair, only adds to your allure. You're like a fine wine, darling. You only get better with age."

Lucifer's head spun, overwhelmed by Alastor's words and touch.

The words washed over Lucifer like a warm caress, easing some of the tightness in his chest. Still, a nagging doubt persisted.

"You're being kind, Alastor, but—"

"Kind?" Alastor's laugh was low and dangerous. "I assure you, there's nothing kind about what I’m thinking right now."

Alastor's hands moved with deliberate slowness, slipping under the hem of his sweater and dragging it up. The light touch sent sparks of electricity through Lucifer's body, making him hyper-aware of every point of contact.

"Do you want to know what I think about…when you doubt yourself like that?" Alastor asked, his hands deftly divesting Lucifer of his sweater.

The blonde’s breath caught in his throat.

He wanted to respond with a witty quip, to maintain some semblance of composure, but all he could manage was a nod.

The cool air of the wine cellar kissed his skin, a stark contrast to the heat building within him.

Lucifer's mind raced, torn between vulnerability and desire.

"I think about how I have to make sure you never want for another," Alastor whispered, his breath hot against Lucifer's skin. “How I have to ruin you for anyone else.”

Lucifer swallowed hard, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure Alastor could hear it.

For the first time since their conversation began, Lucifer found himself utterly speechless.

His usual arsenal of self-deprecating quips and nervous deflections abandoned him, leaving him bare in more ways than one.

Alastor's fingers trailed down Lucifer's now exposed chest, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

"Your eyes," he murmured, voice low and rich with desire, "they're like liquid gold. One look from you, and I'm lost."

Lucifer's breath hitched as Alastor's lips brushed against his collarbone. He wanted to speak, to reciprocate, but found himself captivated by Alastor's every move.

"And this," Alastor continued, his hand splaying across Lucifer's stomach, "the softness here…it drives me wild." His breath was warm against Lucifer's skin, a stark contrast to the cool air of the cellar. "It makes me want to worship every inch of you."

Lucifer's mind reeled. How could Alastor find beauty in the very things he'd been so insecure about? T

Alastor's hands found Lucifer's hips, guiding him toward the antique leather couch nestled against the cellar wall.

Each movement was deliberate, almost reverent, as if Alastor were handling something infinitely precious.

Lucifer felt his back meet the cool leather, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from Alastor's body as he leaned over him.

“My desire is rare, but intense,” Alastor murmured, his hazel eyes locked on Lucifer's golden ones. "Shall I prove how much I desire you?"

"A-Alastor," Lucifer managed, trying to regain some semblance of composure. "You don't have to—"

But Alastor silenced him with a feather-light kiss, his lips ghosting over Lucifer's before trailing down his jaw.

Lucifer's breath caught in his throat as Alastor's lips found a particularly sensitive spot just below his ear. He arched into the touch, a soft gasp escaping him.

"Oh, but I do," he purred, his voice dripping with affectionate possession. "Every inch of you deserves to be cherished, my dear. And I intend to do just that."

Alastor's fingers trailed up Lucifer's neck, cradling his jaw with unexpected tenderness.

"This mouth," he murmured, pressing a kiss to Lucifer's lips that was both gentle and searing.

Lucifer's eyes fluttered closed, his heart racing as Alastor's lips moved lower, trailing kisses down his throat.

"This body," Alastor continued, his hands mapping over Lucifer's chest. His nails just barely scratched down, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Lucifer shivered, hyperaware of every point of contact between them.

Alastor's gaze locked with Lucifer's, his hazel eyes dark with desire.

"This mind," he breathed, and Lucifer felt utterly exposed under that intense stare. “Are all desirable to me.”

It was as if Alastor could see right through him, past all his carefully constructed defenses.

Lucifer’s chest was tight with an emotion he couldn't quite name. Like he was something precious, desirable…worthy.

Breathless and overwhelmed, Lucifer tried to recover with a smirk.

"All that…" he managed, his voice embarrassingly shaky. "Just…to tell me you find me attractive?"

“Mm…yes,” Alastor's grin was predatory as he leaned in, his breath hot against Lucifer's ear. Without warning, he sank his teeth into the sensitive juncture of Lucifer's throat, eliciting a strangled gasp.

"Do you need me to prove it further, my dear?" Alastor purred.

Lucifer's head fell back, exposing more of his neck in silent invitation.

"I... I wouldn't object," he whispered, surrendering completely to Alastor's touch.

“Then allow me to worship you, my darling.” Alastor's lips curved against Lucifer's skin. "For as long as it takes—until the only thought in your beautiful mind is my name."

"Alastor," Lucifer's breath hitched, a tremor running through his body.

With deliberate slowness, Alastor stripped the rest of Lucifer’s reverent kisses and possessive bites. His hands glided over the softness of Lucifer's stomach, fingertips tracing old stretch marks with admiration.

"Perfect," Alastor breathed against Lucifer's skin. "Every inch of you."

Lucifer's eyes fluttered closed, overwhelmed by the intensity of Alastor's attention. A small part of him wanted to protest, to deflect with humor or self-deprecation.

Instead, he found himself melting into the touch as Alastor stripped away his clothes, years of tension and insecurity slowly unraveling under careful hands.

With a growl, Alastor shoved Lucifer back onto the leather loveseat, leaving the blonde’s head hanging off the stuffed arm

Alastor's hands slid down Lucifer's sides, gripping his thighs and spreading them wide. He draped one leg over the back of the couch, leaving Lucifer completely exposed and vulnerable.

Like a predator stalking its prey, Alastor crawled over Lucifer's prone form.

He grabbed Lucifer's wrist, guiding his hand to the obvious bulge in Alastor's trousers.

"This," Alastor gasped, his composure finally slipping. "This is what you do to me, Lucifer. Only you."

Before he could explore further, Alastor pinned his wrist above his head. In one swift motion, Alastor thrust his hips forward, grinding against the base of the plug nestled inside Lucifer.

A broken moan escaped Lucifer's lips as pleasure coursed through him, the plug shifting inside him as Alastor continued to move.

"You're exquisite," Alastor breathed, his voice husky with desire. "The way you move, the sounds you make…you are intoxicating."

Lucifer tried to lean up, desperate to capture Alastor's lips in a kiss, to silence the stream of praise that made his heart race and his cheeks flush.

Alastor's hand landed on Lucifer's throat, not enough to cut off his air, but enough to pin him in place.

"No, darling," Alastor purred. "I want you to hear every word. To know exactly what you do to me."

With his free hand, Alastor reached between Lucifer's spread legs, skipping his aching cock, fingers finding the base of the plug. He gave it a gentle twist, drawing a strangled gasp from Lucifer's lips.

"Only you can reduce me to this," Alastor continued, slowly working the plug free. "This primal, desperate need."

The plug slipped free with a wet sound that echoed in the quiet cellar.

Lucifer whimpered at the sudden emptiness, his hips lifting in silent plea.

Alastor's smile was predatory as he unzipped his trousers, freeing his straining erection.

"Look at what you've done to me," he growled, positioning himself at Lucifer's entrance. "No one else makes me like this."

In one smooth motion, Alastor thrust forward, burying himself to the hilt inside Lucifer's tight heat.

They both cried out at the sensation, Lucifer's back arching off the leather.

"Fuck," Alastor hissed, his composure slipping. "So perfect, so tight for me."

He set a punishing pace, hips snapping forward with enough force to rock the antique loveseat.

Each thrust drove the air from Lucifer's lungs, leaving him gasping and clawing at Alastor's clothes.

"You're the only one," Alastor panted, his words punctuated by the sound of skin on skin. "The only one who makes me this desperate, this…horny."

Under different circumstances, Lucifer might have laughed at Alastor's uncharacteristic use of such a crude term. But coherent thought was beyond him now, lost in the overwhelming sensations of being so thoroughly claimed.

At such raw devotion.

Alastor's hand moved from Lucifer's throat to his hair, gripping tightly and forcing his head back.

"Look at me," he demanded. "I want to see those beautiful eyes when you come apart for me."

A soft, broken sound escaped Lucifer's lips as he finally allowed himself to surrender completely.

Alastor's name became a litany, a prayer on his lips as they moved together.

As they both tumbled towards orgasm, Lucifer felt the last of his doubts wash away, replaced by a profound sense of acceptance and love.

His body arched off the leather, every muscle tensing as waves of pleasure crashed over him. Alastor's name tore from his throat in a hoarse cry, echoing off the stone walls of the wine cellar.

Alastor followed moments later, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep inside Lucifer. His usual composure shattered completely, replaced by raw, animal need. He bit down hard on Lucifer's shoulder, muffling his own cry.

For several long moments, they remained frozen in their embrace, trembling and gasping for air.

The cool cellar air raised goosebumps on Lucifer's sweat-slicked skin. He could feel Alastor's heart pounding against his chest, Alastor still inside him.

Slowly, carefully, Alastor lifted his head. His usually immaculate hair was disheveled, a few strands sticking to his forehead. His glasses sat slightly askew on his nose.

Lucifer had never seen anything more beautiful.

Alastor leaned down, capturing Lucifer's lips in a tender kiss. It was soft and sweet, a stark contrast to the frenzied passion of moments before.

When they parted, Alastor's smile was gentle, his eyes warm with affection.

<3<3<3

Lucifer lay back against the plush couch, a delicious ache permeating his body. His chest rose and fell with deep, satisfied breaths as he watched through half-lidded eyes as Alastor stood and started to compose himself.

A slow, genuine smile spread across his face.

"Well," Lucifer drawled, his voice husky, "if that's how you plan to boost my ego, I might have to start fishing for compliments more often."

Alastor chuckled, turning to run a hand through Lucifer's tousled blonde hair. "Careful what you wish for, darling. I'm more than happy to oblige."

Lucifer's laugh was warm and unguarded. He stretched languidly, reveling in the pleasant soreness of his muscles. "I feel positively ruined," he mused, a hint of playful pride in his tone. "I can’t believe I was worried about looking my age."

"Trust me, Lucifer, you have nothing to worry about." Alastor's eyes gleamed with affection and desire.

Lucifer's eyebrows shot up, noticing for the first time that Alastor was working a white handkerchief around the plug.

Shock and arousal surged through him.

"Alastor…you can't be serious," he protested weakly, even as his body thrummed with renewed desire.

Alastor's grin was positively wicked as he held up the freshly cleaned plug.The polished metal gleamed in the dim light of the wine cellar, a promise of delicious discomfort.

"Why not, darling?" Alastor purred, his voice low and teasing. "There are only a few party guests left. It's mostly just clean up now."

"But… but what if someone notices?" the older man stammered, even as he felt his resistance crumbling under Alastor's intense gaze.

Alastor leaned over him, his breath hot against Lucifer's ear. "Let them notice," he growled softly. "I've already claimed you outside..." His fingers traced the fresh bite mark on Lucifer's neck, still tender and beginning to bruise. "And inside."

His eyes dropped meaningfully to the mess of come slowly leaking from between Lucifer’s legs.

The sight sent a shiver of arousal through Lucifer's spent body.

"I…we shouldn't…" Lucifer's protest was weak, barely more than a whisper. His body betrayed him, hips lifting slightly off the leather couch in silent invitation.

Alastor's smile was triumphant as he positioned the plug at Lucifer's ass.

"You were saying, my dear?" he teased, applying gentle pressure.

Lucifer's resolve crumbled entirely. "Oh, fuck it," he gasped, surrendering to the slightest pressure. "Do it."

With agonizing slowness, Alastor eased the plug back inside. Lucifer's breath hitched as the widest part stretched him. When it finally settled into place, he let out a shaky exhale.

"There we are," Alastor murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Perfect."

He helped Lucifer to his feet, steadying him as he swayed slightly. The plug shifted inside him with every movement, a constant reminder of Alastor’s come still inside him.

With meticulous care, Alastor helped Lucifer redress. He smoothed down Lucifer's rumpled sweater, adjusting the collar to hide the marks on his neck.

His fingers lingered, a possessive touch that only pleased Lucifer further.

As they prepared to return upstairs, Alastor pulled Lucifer close for one last, searing kiss.

"Remember," he whispered against Lucifer's lips, "with every step, every movement…you're mine."

❣️Ao3❣️Original Fics (1 Year Free)❣️Tumblr❣️

[darcydarlingdabbles]

At Valentine’s Day~ Part 5 ~ Play With Me

RadioApple🩷Human Au/Age Gap🩷Top!Dom!Alastor

🩷Divorced Dad!Lucifer🩷Explicit

AN: Heya~

Work can wait, deadlines can burn, Right now, my love, it’s my turn. Forget your papers, forget your tasks— Let me distract you. No need to ask.

🩷🩷🩷

❣️Ao3❣️Original Fics (1 Year Free)❣️Tumblr❣️

The glow of the late-night moon filtered through the expansive picture window, casting a silver serenity over the kitchen.

Lucifer's gaze drifted across the sprawling grounds of Morningstar Mansion, a small smile playing on his lips as he watched the automatic lights flicker to life.

The gazebo, bathed in a soft glow, seemed to shimmer like a distant memory.

It really was magical—perfect for his little girl’s wedding.

Lucifer glanced down at the stack of papers before him, his smile faltering slightly. The sheer volume of invoices and contracts was daunting, but he pushed aside his weariness.

This was for Charlie, after all.

Beside him, Alastor's brow furrowed as he tapped furiously at his laptop.

Lucifer marveled at the younger man's dedication, watching as he seamlessly shifted between tasks—confirming details for the bachelorette party one moment, finalizing the guest list the next.

"How's it coming along?" Lucifer asked softly, not wanting to break Alastor's concentration.

"Oh, you know. Just juggling a few hundred balls in the air. Nothing to worry about." The brunette looked up, his usual confident smile strained at the edges.

Lucifer chuckled, though concern nagged at him. He'd never seen Alastor quite this frazzled.

"You're doing an amazing job, you know. Charlie's lucky to have you as her Man of Honor."

"Thank you, darling," Alastor replied, his voice warm despite the tension in his shoulders. "Though I'm beginning to wonder if I've bitten off more than I can chew."

"Hey, we're in this together. Whatever you need, I'm here." Lucifer reached out, gently squeezing Alastor's hand.

Alastor's eyes softened, and for a moment, the stress seemed to melt away.

"I appreciate that, truly. Now, back to work, shall we? These invitations won't address themselves."

As they returned to their respective tasks, Lucifer found his gaze drawn once more to the window.

He’d kept up paying the gardeners and cleaners of the mansion, even when he couldn’t leave the chalet up in the mountains—and had a few awkward run-ins with people in his house while he was in his pjs.

But, now, with the lights flickering and midnight settled over the gardens like a blanket, a canvas of possibility stretching out before them.

Charlie’s wedding would be the best memory made in this house.

Well, since Alastor had started to move in.

Lucifer's eyes drifted from the window to Alastor's furrowed brow, a fond smile tugging at his lips.

"You know," Lucifer began, his voice light and teasing, "that wedding planner of ours is quite the hard-ass for someone who looks so cute."

Alastor's head snapped up, a flicker of something—was that jealousy?—crossing his face.

"Angel isn't that cute," he huffed, his grip on his pen tightening ever so slightly.

"Angel? I thought his name was Anthony." Lucifer frowned, tilting his head in confusion.

"Ah, yes, of course. Anthony. That's what I meant to say." Alastor blinked rapidly,and seemed to nervously adjust his glasses. "Simple slip of the tongue."

Lucifer's frown deepened, sensing there was more to Alastor's reaction than a mere name mix-up. But he pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on the obvious tension in Alastor's shoulders.

"Hey," Lucifer said softly, reaching out to brush his fingers against Alastor's arm. When the touch was welcomed, the blonde moved to rub at the younger man’s shoulders. "You look like you could use a break. How about I run you a hot bath? Or I could whip up something in the kitchen—that peppermint tea you like, maybe?"

"My, my, Lucifer," Alastor’s voice dropped to that low, velvety tone that never failed to send shivers down Lucifer's spine. "Are you trying to seduce me away from my duties?"

"What? No! I just meant—I was trying to help you relax!" Lucifer sputtered, heat rushing to his face.

Alastor leaned in, his hazel eyes glinting with mischief. "Oh really? And here I thought you were attempting to distract me with sex?"

"Come on, Al," the blonde chuckled, nervousness and amusement bubbling up in his chest. "You know I wouldn't try to distract you…like that."

Alastor's smirk widened as he set his phone down on the table with a soft click. "Oh, Lucifer, you think you can’t?" he purred, leaning back in his chair and regarding the older man with a positively sinful smirk. "You vastly underestimate yourself."

"I…what do you mean?" He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry.

"What I mean, my darling," Alastor said, his voice dropping even lower, "is that you underestimate just how much of an effect you have on me."

Lucifer's heart skipped a beat, a warm flush creeping up his neck. Did…Alastor mean that? It was, impossible to think that little old him had that much power over someone as composed as Alastor.

"In fact, why don't we make a game of it?" Alastor's eyes gleamed with sudden inspiration.

"A…game?" Lucifer echoed, curiosity piqued despite his nervousness.

"Indeed," Alastor nodded, sitting up straighter. "We'll take turns trying to distract each other from our wedding planning duties. What do you say?"

"Alright," Lucifer found himself nodding before he'd fully processed the idea. "What are the rules?"

Alastor's grin turned wicked. "No touching."

"No touching?" Lucifer balked.

"Well," Alastor amended, his eyes twinkling with mischief, "we can’t put our hands on each other, better?."

Well, that left…other parts they could put on each other. Making Lucifer think things that he knew were turning his cheeks from bright pink to burning red.

Part of him wanted to refuse, to retreat to the safety of their work. But another part, a part that had been awakening more and more since Alastor had entered his life, thrilled at the challenge.

"Okay," he heard himself say, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're on."

"Since you're so eager, darling, why don't you try to distract me first?" Alastor's confidence radiated off him in waves as he leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips.

Lucifer swallowed hard, suddenly feeling out of his depth.

He stood, circling behind Alastor's chair, hoping proximity might give him an advantage.

The scent of Alastor's cologne—spicy and warm—filled his senses, making it hard to concentrate.

"You know," Lucifer began, his voice wavering slightly, "I could open that bottle of Macallan 25 we've been saving. A little whiskey break might be nice."

"Tempting, but I'm quite focused at the moment."

Alastor didn't even look up from his work.

Lucifer bit his lip, racking his brain. "What if I read to you from that book of French poetry you love? The Baudelaire?"

This time, Alastor's typing paused for just a fraction of a second.

Lucifer's eyes lit up, sensing a chink in Alastor's armor. He began to recite in a low, melodic voice:

"Rappelez-vous l'objet que nous vîmes, mon âme,

Ce beau matin d'été si doux:

Au détour d'un sentier une charogne infâme

Sur un lit semé de cailloux…"

Alastor's fingers stilled on the keyboard, his breath catching ever so slightly. Lucifer continued, his French pronunciation careful and deliberate:

"Les jambes en l'air, comme une femme lubrique,

Brûlante et suant les poisons,

Ouvrait d'une façon nonchalante et cynique

Son ventre plein d'exhalaisons."

"My, my," Alastor purred, his voice rough. "I'd almost forgotten how…captivating your French can be."

Lucifer's heart raced, triumph and arousal warring within him. "Does this mean I win?" he asked, a hint of playfulness in his tone.

"I must admit, you're proving to be quite the formidable opponent." Alastor's lips curled into a wicked smile. "While your pronunciation has improved admirably, I'm afraid I must decline."

“Hey! I’ve been speaking French since before you were alive!”

Frustration bubbled up in Lucifer's chest. How was Alastor's control so perfect?

He leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over Alastor's ear. "Are you sure there's nothing I can offer to distract you?"

Without thinking, Lucifer's hand came to rest on Alastor's shoulder. The moment he made contact, Alastor's head snapped up, a triumphant grin spreading across his face.

"Oh, Lucifer," Alastor purred, "you've lost your round, I'm afraid. And now…it's my turn."

Lucifer's stomach dropped—what had he gotten himself into?

The blonde settled into the chair, his fingers hovering over the his invoices.

He could feel Alastor's presence behind him, a palpable energy that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

Determined to focus, he began typing, filling out yet another form for Charlie's wedding.

"My, my," Alastor's low, velvety voice cut through the silence. "You're so diligent, aren't you? It's so admirable."

Lucifer swallowed hard, willing himself not to react. He could do this. He just had to ignore Alastor's sultry tone and—

"I wonder," Alastor continued, his words dripping with suggestion, "how else I might put that devotedness of yours to use?"

"I-I'm sure I don't know what you mean." Lucifer clenched his jaw, forcing his eyes to stay fixed on the screen.

Alastor chuckled, the sound rich and dark. "Oh, I think you do. I could tell you all the ways I plan to reward your focus later. How I'll take my time with you, savoring every…inch."

Lucifer's cheeks burned.

He typed furiously, trying to drown out Alastor's words with the clacking of keys. But his mind betrayed him, conjuring vivid images of Alastor's promises.

"Keep working, darling," Alastor breathed, his lips so close to Lucifer's ear that he could feel the warmth of his breath. "But know that later, I'm going to fuck you until you can't remember your own name."

The laptop slammed shut. Lucifer spun around, his resolve crumbling. "Alastor, I—"

But the younger man was already stepping back, a victorious smirk playing on his lips. "I win."

"You're too good at this," he muttered, rising from the chair.

Lucifer's shoulders slumped in defeat, frustration and admiration coloring his expression.

"Practice makes perfect, darling. Now, back to work." Alastor's smirk softened into a genuine smile.

As Alastor settled into the vacated seat, Lucifer found himself at a loss.

He paced behind the chair, wracking his brain for ideas. Promising Alastor spoiling clearly wouldn't work—the man had iron self-control when it came to temptation.

But then, a memory surfaced.

The way Alastor's eyes had lingered on him one lazy Sunday morning, appreciation clear in his gaze. Lucifer's blood warmed at the recollection. For more than one reason

Well…here went nothing.

With trembling fingers, Lucifer peeled off his cozy sweater, letting it drop to the floor. His pajama bottoms followed, leaving him completely bare in the silvery lit kitchen.

A chill ran across his skin, raising goosebumps. He fought the urge to cover himself, acutely aware of his softened middle and the marks of age on his body.

Lucifer's eyes darted to Alastor, searching for a reaction.

In the reflection of the dark window, he caught a glimpse of Alastor's face. The younger man's eyes had widened, his typing faltering for just a moment before resuming with renewed intensity.

He was trying not to look. And that kindled just a little bit of hope for his foolish idea.

Lucifer swallowed hard, pushing his insecurities aside.

Emboldened by Alastor's apparent effort to ignore him, he stepped closer to the table. With a deliberate sweep of his arm, he pushed a stack of papers to the side, creating a clear space next to Alastor's laptop.

The rustle of paper seemed deafening in the quiet kitchen.

Lucifer's heart pounded as he hoisted himself onto the table, the cool surface a shock against his bare skin. He positioned himself mere inches from Alastor, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from the other man's body.

Slowly, Alastor lifted his gaze, hazel eyes meeting Lucifer's golden ones.

"What are you doing?"

Lucifer shrugged, feigning nonchalance despite the nervous flutter in his stomach. "You said I couldn't touch you," he replied, his voice wavering slightly.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what came next. Reaching between his legs, Lucifer wrapped his fingers around his cock, giving it a gentle stroke.

"So, I'm touching myself."

As he began to palm himself, Lucifer’s eyes darted to Alastor’s face.

The younger man's jaw clenched, a muscle twitching beneath his rich brown skin. For a moment, his hazel eyes flickered with unmistakable desire before he forcibly tore his gaze away.

With a sharp inhale, he hunched over his laptop, fingers flying across the keys with renewed intensity.

Lucifer's breath hitched as he continued stroking himself, his eyes never leaving Alastor's face.

He noted every minute reaction: the slight flaring of nostrils, the way Alastor's tongue darted out to wet his lips, the tension in his shoulders as he struggled to maintain his composure.

Lucifer almost couldn’t believe it was working. His unflappable Dom was so affected.

As his arousal built, Lucifer let out a soft moan. "Alastor," he breathed, biting his lip to stifle a louder groan.

The effect was instantaneous.

Alastor's fingers stumbled over the keys, producing a string of gibberish on the screen. He froze, his breathing audibly ragged.

"Are you alright?" Lucifer asked innocently.

Alastor cleared his throat, the sound almost comically loud in the charged silence.

"Perfectly fine," he shifted in his seat, adjusting his glasses with trembling fingers before resuming his typing.

Lucifer smiled to himself, emboldened by Alastor's reaction.

A slow smile spread across Lucifer's face as realization dawned. He'd found Alastor's weakness, and a deliciously wicked plan began to form in his mind.

His heart raced as he gathered his courage.

"I'll be right back," Lucifer announced, his voice wavering as he slid off the table.

He heard Alastor exhale sharply, almost like a sigh of relief. "Take your time," the Dom replied, his tone carefully neutral.

Lucifer padded across the kitchen, acutely aware of his nakedness. He rummaged through Alastor’s backpack, fingers closing around a small bottle. His prize secured, he turned back to face Alastor, who was studiously avoiding looking in his direction.

"Oh, sir," Lucifer called softly, returning to the table. "I thought we might need this."

Alastor's head jerked up, his hazel eyes widening behind his glasses as he took in the sight before him.

Lucifer was perched on the edge of the table, legs slightly parted, a bottle of lube in his hand.

"What are you doing?" Alastor asked, his voice low and dangerous.

Lucifer's fingers might be a little shakey as he poured a generous amount of lube onto them, warming it between his palms.

"Just making myself comfortable."

With a deep breath, Lucifer spread his legs wider, propping them up on the edge of the table. He felt exposed, vulnerable, but the way Alastor's gaze immediately dropped between his thighs sent a chill of excitement through him.

"Lucifer," Alastor warned, but his eyes remained fixed on Lucifer's glistening fingers.

"Yes, sweetheart?" Lucifer asked innocently, his heart pounding as he positioned his hand. "Is there a problem?"

The blonde man bit the inside of his cheek, suppressing the triumphant smirk that threatened to bloom across his face. He could feel Alastor's intense gaze on him, the desire and the frustration radiating from the younger man.

He might just win.

With deliberate slowness, Lucifer circled his rim with a slick finger. He watched Alastor's face intently, noting how the Dom's jaw clenched, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the edge of the table.

"Oh!" Lucifer gasped softly as he pushed a finger inside himself. He didn't miss how the brunette’s breath hitched at the sound.

Normally, when Alastor prepped him, it was a slow, reverent process. Gentle caresses and whispered praises that left Lucifer feeling cherished and desired.

But now, with Alastor's eyes boring into him, Lucifer was rough, impatient.

He quickly added a second finger, stretching himself with hurried, almost careless movements.

"Lucifer," Alastor's voice was strained, "you should slow down. You'll hurt yourself."

"Mmm," Lucifer moaned, perhaps a touch dramatically. "But it feels so good, Alastor."

He scissored his fingers, letting out a genuine gasp at the burn.

It did border on too much, too fast, but the way Alastor's pupils dilated made it worth it.

"You're being reckless," Alastor growled, his composure clearly slipping.

Lucifer met his gaze, feeling a surge of boldness. "Then why don't you stop me?"

Alastor's hands twitched, as if fighting the urge to reach out and take control.

“That would mean…losing our little game, won’t it?”

"Then I guess you'll just have to watch…"

Lucifer bit his lip, suppressing a smirk. He twisted his fingers, deliberately letting out a soft whimper.

Alastor's gaze was intense, fixed on Lucifer's movements.

The younger man's chest rose and fell rapidly, his breath coming in short, controlled bursts. Lucifer could see the conflict playing out across Alastor's face—the need to protect, to provide, to control his submissive’s pleasure, warring with his competitive nature.

"Lucifer," Alastor said, his tone warning and pleading. "You're rushing it."

The older man shrugged, his golden eyes never leaving Alastor's. "I know what I can take…" He trailed off, punctuating the statement with a particularly rough thrust of his fingers.

Alastor's laptop lay forgotten, the screen having gone dark from inactivity.

Papers scattered across the table, completely ignored by both men.

Lucifer felt a surge of triumph at having captured Alastor's undivided attention.

Clearing his throat, Alastor tried a different approach. His voice took on that velvety, commanding tone that never failed to make Lucifer weak in the knees.

"You know what I've told you before, darling," Alastor said, his eyes tracking every movement of Lucifer's fingers. "Getting yourself off cheap and quick is like eating junk food. The satisfaction fades all too quickly."

Lucifer grinned, a mischievous glint in his gold-flecked eyes.

He could feel Alastor's gaze burning into him, tracking every twitch of his fingers, every shudder that ran through his body.

"Well," Lucifer purred, his voice husky with desire, "I don't mind getting off cheap and quick—"

Before he could finish, Alastor made a sound of pure frustration.

It was somewhere between a growl and a groan, low and guttural. The noise sent a jolt of arousal straight to Lucifer's core.

Emboldened by Alastor's reaction, Lucifer curled his fingers deeper, searching. When he found that spot inside himself, his back arched involuntarily. A moan escaped his lips, loud and unrestrained.

"Oh fuck," Lucifer gasped, his free hand gripping the edge of the table. "I could—I could come just like this."

He saw Alastor tense, every muscle in the younger man's body going rigid.

"You do not have permission to come," Alastor growled, his voice dropping to that commanding tone that made Lucifer's insides melt.

Lucifer had never seen Alastor lose control like this before.

Part of him wanted to push further, to see just how far he could take this game. But another part—the part that craved Alastor's dominance—quivered at the warning in those words.

Lucifer's breath came in short, ragged gasps. His fingers stilled inside himself, but he couldn't resist one more push.

"You can't stop me without losing the game…so…" He trailed off, then moaned his lover’s name, low and needy.

Something in Alastor snapped.

In an instant, he was on his feet, the chair clattering to the floor behind him.

Papers scattered across the kitchen tile as Alastor lunged forward, his lean body a blur of motion.

Before Lucifer could process what was happening, strong hands gripped his wrists, pinning them above his head.

Alastor's body pressed against him, trapping Lucifer against the cool surface of the table.

The sudden shift left Lucifer breathless, his heart pounding wildly in his chest.

"A-Alastor," the older man stuttered, surprised by the aggression. He'd never seen his partner like this—so raw, so uncontrolled.

Not only that—he could feel his Dom’s cock, hard against his thighs.

Alastor's lips crashed into his, the kiss bruising and desperate. Lucifer melted into it, overwhelmed by the intensity. He felt Alastor's hips rolling, grinding that aching hardness between his legs.

When Alastor broke the kiss, his eyes were dark with desire. "You are mine to spoil," he growled, voice thick with possessiveness, "and mine alone."

"Yes," Lucifer breathed, barely able to form coherent thoughts. "Yours, Alastor. Only yours."

Alastor's grip on Lucifer's wrists tightened as he yanked the shorter man to the edge of the table.

More papers fluttered to the ground, forgotten in the heat of the moment.

With a firm hand between Lucifer's shoulder blades, Alastor bent him over the polished wood surface.

Lucifer's breath caught in his throat. He'd never seen Alastor so undone, so primal.

It was thrilling and a little frightening.

"Al—" Lucifer started, but his words dissolved into a startled yelp as he felt the hard press of Alastor's cock against his entrance.

Suddenly, Alastor stilled.

His hand, previously so forceful, now ghosted gently down Lucifer's spine.

"Color?"

Lucifer's mind raced. Was he okay? God, yes. He was more than okay. He was on fire, desperate for more.

"Green," he managed to gasp out. "So very, very gre—"

Before he could finish, Alastor surged forward, burying himself to the hilt inside Lucifer’s ass.

His world exploded in sensation, his fingers scrabbling for purchase on the smooth tabletop.

"Oh fuck," Lucifer moaned, overwhelmed by the fullness, the stretch, the delicious burn of Alastor inside him.

The intensity of the sensation bordered on painful, but Lucifer found himself sinking rapidly into a hazy, blissful state.

His mind, usually so full of worries and self-doubt, began to empty of everything but the feel of Alastor.

"Green," Lucifer repeated breathlessly, needing Alastor to know he was okay, more than okay. "Please, don't stop."

Alastor's response was a low, almost feral growl. Without warning, he began to move, his hips snapping forward in a relentless rhythm.

Lucifer gasped, his thoughts scattering like the papers on the floor. "Al…Alastor," he panted, barely recognizing his own voice. "It's so…I've never…"

"Never what, darling?" Alastor's voice was rough with desire, yet still managed to carry that hint of playfulness Lucifer adored.

"Never felt like this," Lucifer moaned as Alastor hit his particularly sensitive spot. "So full, so…yours."

Alastor's pace quickened, the sound of skin on skin filling the kitchen. "That's right," he growled. "Mine."

Suddenly, Lucifer felt Alastor's teeth sink into his shoulder. The sharp pain mingled with pleasure, pushing him over the edge.

With a cry of Alastor's name, Lucifer came hard, his come splattering onto the kitchen tiles below.

As the waves of his orgasm washed over him, Lucifer could only think…that he fucking loved this man.

The realization should have terrified him, but in this moment, bent over the kitchen table and completely at Alastor's mercy, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Lucifer's thighs quivered uncontrollably, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

The intensity of his climax left him feeling weak and boneless, but he was still burning . As Alastor began to withdraw, Lucifer let out a desperate whine.

"Please," he begged, his voice hoarse and needy. "Please finish inside me, sir."

Alastor paused, his hazel eyes darkening with renewed lust. "Turn around," he commanded softly.

Lucifer's heart raced as Alastor lifted him effortlessly, positioning him on the edge. He wrapped his trembling legs around Alastor's waist, pulling him close.

Their lips met in a searing kiss, and Lucifer savored the taste of Alastor's mouth.

"Hold onto me," Alastor murmured, and Lucifer complied eagerly, his arms encircling Alastor's neck.

As Alastor entered him again, Lucifer gasped against his lips. The oversensitivity bordered on too much, but he clung tighter, burying his face in the crook of Alastor's neck.

"You feel incredible," Alastor breathed, his usually controlled voice wavering. "So perfect for me, Lucifer."

The praise sent warmth blooming in Lucifer's chest. He'd never felt so desired.

"Let go," Lucifer whispered encouragements as Alastor's thrusts grew more erratic, urging him towards his own release. "I've got you, Al. I'm yours."

Alastor's rhythm faltered, his breath coming in short pants against Lucifer's ear. "I told you…you make me break my own rules," he gasped, voice strained with pleasure. "You're so damn tempting…"

Lucifer hummed as he bucked his hips to meet Alastor's thrusts, deliberately clenching around him. Drawing a low groan from Alastor's throat.

"I think you're just a sucker for me," the blonde teased, his golden eyes bright with affection.

Alastor's gaze met his, hazel eyes intense and vulnerable in a way Lucifer had never seen before.

"Yes," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I am."

The raw honesty in those two simple words struck Lucifer to his core.

He pulled Alastor closer, kissing him deeply as he felt the younger man's body tense. Alastor came with a muffled groan against Lucifer's lips, his hips stuttering as he spilled inside him.

Lucifer clung to Alastor, his arms and legs wrapped tightly around him. He could feel Alastor's heart hammering against his chest, matching the frenetic beat of his own.

In that moment, wrapped in each other's arms, Lucifer felt a profound sense of belonging.

They hadn't said those three little words yet, but Lucifer didn't need to hear them.

He could feel it in every gentle touch, every stolen glance, every shared moment of vulnerability.

Love surrounded them, unspoken but undeniable, filling the air between them like an invisible, unbreakable thread.

As their breathing slowly returned to normal, Lucifer nuzzled against Alastor's neck, inhaling the comforting scent of his cologne mixed with the musk of their lovemaking.

He felt safe, cherished, and utterly content.

Notes:

——————- Yes, that is a real poem by Charles Baudlaire Found in Les Fleurs du Mal or The Flowers of Evil It’s called Une Chargone or A Carcass And Yes, Lucifer attempts to seduce Alastor with a poem infamous for being grotesquely beautiful about a romantically rotting corpse. And yes-yes, it almost worked. XD

❣️Ao3❣️Original Fics (1 Year Free)❣️Tumblr❣️

[darcydarlingdabbles]

At Valentine’s Day~ Part 20 - Be Mine

RadioApple🩷Human Au/Age Gap🩷Top!Dom!Alastor

🩷Divorced Dad!Lucifer🩷Explicit

No rush, no haste, just soft delight, A touch, a kiss, a perfect night. No words needed, no games in play— Just love, just trust, in every way.

🩷🩷🩷

❣️Ao3❣️Original Fics (1 Year Free)❣️Tumblr❣️

The soft click of the hotel suite door sealed Lucifer and Alastor in a world of hushed intimacy.

Golden candlelight flickered against deep mahogany walls, casting dancing shadows that seemed to pulse with the beating of Lucifer's heart.

Rose petals blanketed every surface—a crimson cascade across plush carpet, silk sheets adorned with velvety softness, even drifting lazily atop the steaming bath he'd prepared earlier.

The room was a sensual wonderland, carefully crafted for this moment.

And Lucifer immediately wondered if he’d overdone it.

A familiar pang of insecurity fluttering in his chest. He stole a glance at Alastor, searching for any sign of approval or disappointment.

"I hope it's not too much," Lucifer murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He gestured vaguely.

Alastor's eyes widened as he surveyed the room, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“My dear…this is…”

Lucifer's heart sank.

"Too much," he finished, shoulders slumping slightly. "I knew I should have—"

But Alastor silenced him with a gentle finger to his lips. "It's perfect," he said softly, his gaze locked on Lucifer's. "Absolutely perfect."

Relief washed over Lucifer, chasing away the shadows of doubt. He leaned into Alastor's touch, savoring the warmth of his skin.

Alastor's hand moved to cup Lucifer's cheek, his thumb tracing a tender path along his jawline.

As they stood there, enveloped in candlelight and the sweet perfume of roses, Lucifer felt a surge of emotions he'd long thought lost to him.

Desire, yes, but also a profound sense of safety and belonging. With Alastor, he didn't have to hide his vulnerabilities or pretend to be someone he wasn't.

Alastor's chest tightened painfully as the full weight of Lucifer's gesture sank in.

This wasn't just romance—this was thoughtful, deeply personal. Every detail, from the whiskey's smoky aroma to the precise arrangement of rose petals, spoke of intimate knowledge and careful planning.

"You did all this…for me?" Alastor's voice was barely above a whisper, his usual composure wavering.

Lucifer's eyes softened, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "Of course, sweetheart. I know how busy you've been lately." He reached out, fingers brushing Alastor's cheek. "I wanted to make sure our first Valentine's Day together was memorable."

"But how did you find the time? I've barely seen you this week." Alastor leaned into the touch, his heart racing.

"Let's just say I have my ways. And a very accommodating hotel staff." Lucifer chuckled, a hint of mischief in his golden eyes.

Alastor's fingers traced the exposed skin of Lucifer's neck, reveling in the shiver it elicited. "You continue to surprise me, Lucifer Morningstar," he murmured, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lover's temple. "And I find myself falling even deeper in love with you because of it."

He marveled at how this man, who had once seemed so unsure of himself, had planned such an elaborate surprise. It spoke volumes about how far they'd come, how much trust had grown between them.

Lucifer's arms encircled Alastor's waist, his breath warm against Alastor's neck. "I wanted to show you how much you mean to me," he admitted softly. "How much we mean to me."

Those words, so simple yet profound, threatened to undo Alastor completely.

The brunette’s response was instantaneous and primal.

He spun Lucifer around, fingers curling into the crisp fabric of his white shirt, and crushed their lips together.

The kiss was fierce, desperate, a manifestation of the emotions surging through him.

Lucifer let out a soft gasp of surprise against Alastor's mouth, his body tensing for a split second before melting into the embrace.

His hands found Alastor's waist, fingers digging in to anchor himself.

How long had it been since anyone had made him feel this way?

Had anyone ever made him feel this way?

They stumbled further into the room, barely breaking apart.

Alastor's glasses were askew, his carefully styled hair coming undone, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

All that mattered was Lucifer, the warmth of his body, the taste of his lips.

With gentle force, Alastor pressed Lucifer against the wall, relishing the soft thud and the way the older man’s breath hitched. His fingers threaded through Lucifer's golden hair, marveling at its softness.

"Alastor," Lucifer murmured, his voice rough with desire. "I—"

But Alastor silenced him with another kiss, deep and consuming. He poured everything he couldn't say into that kiss—his gratitude, his love, his overwhelming need for this man who had planned such a perfect evening.

Lucifer's laughter bubbled up between kisses, breathless and tinged with wonder.

"Eager, aren't we?" he teased, his voice warm and affectionate.

The playful jab lost its edge as Alastor's lips found Lucifer's neck, open-mouthed and reverent.

Alastor savored the taste of Lucifer's skin, salt and a faint trace of cologne. He felt Lucifer's pulse quicken beneath his lips, a tangible sign of the effect he was having.

His own heart raced in response, a crescendo of desire building within him.

"I don't think you understand…" Alastor murmured, his voice low and husky against Lucifer's ear. He nipped gently at the sensitive skin just below, drawing a soft gasp from the shorter man.

The sound sent a shiver down Alastor's spine.

Lucifer's hands tightened on Alastor's waist, pulling him closer. "What don't I understand?" he asked, his breath catching as Alastor's teeth grazed his earlobe.

Alastor paused, overwhelmed by the surge of emotion threatening to spill from his lips.

How could he possibly put into words what this moment meant to him?

The care, the thoughtfulness, the sheer romance of it all—it was almost too much to bear.

Instead of answering, he captured Lucifer's lips once more.

Between fervent kisses, Alastor finally found his voice. "No one's ever…done anything like this for me before." His words were punctuated by gentle nips along Lucifer's jawline. "Every time you show even a hint of care…it overwhelms me."

"Well, sweetheart, considering you've never dated before, I'd say the bar was set pretty low." Lucifer chuckled softly.

His attempt at levity was cut short as Alastor pressed him more firmly against the wall, effectively silencing him.

"You have no idea," Alastor breathed, his hazel eyes burning with an intensity that made Lucifer's breath catch. "What you do to me, my love. How much I—"

The words caught in his throat, the depth of his feelings too vast to articulate.

Alastor's heart raced, the unfinished sentiment hanging in the air between them. He'd never been good at expressing vulnerability, but something about Lucifer made him want to try.

Instead, he poured his emotions into action, his hands roaming reverently over Lucifer's body as if memorizing every curve and plane.

Lucifer's breathing stuttered as Alastor's deft fingers found the buttons of his jacket. The soft candlelight cast a warm glow on Lucifer's skin, as Alastor exposed more and more of it.

"Alastor, we should—ah—slow down…" the blonde’s protest was half-hearted at best, his golden eyes heavy-lidded with desire.

"Do you want me to stop?" Alastor paused, searching Lucifer's face.

Lucifer shook his head, a small smile playing at his lips.

"No, I…please don't."

With deliberate care, Alastor resumed his task, sliding the fabric from Lucifer's shoulders as if unveiling a priceless work of art.

The jacket fell to the floor with a soft rustle, forgotten amidst the scattered rose petals.

Lucifer's hands came up to frame Alastor's face, his touch feather-light and trembling slightly.

"You're…not even letting me take care of you tonight, are you?" Lucifer's voice was warm, tinged with fond exasperation.

"I want to worship you," lastor leaned into the touch, turning to press a kiss to Lucifer's palm. "Let me show you how precious you are to me."

Lucifer's breath hitched, lingering insecurity flickering across his features. "I'm not—"

"You are," Alastor insisted, cutting off Lucifer's self-deprecation with a fierce kiss. "Let me prove it to you."

The brunette smiled against Lucifer's throat, nuzzling close. T

"Let me love you first, darling," he murmured, his lips brushing sensitive skin. "Just for a little while."

"You're impossible," Lucifer breathed, but there was no heat in the words. Only a warmth that made Alastor's heart swell.

"Impossibly devoted to you, perhaps," Alastor quipped, trailing kisses along Lucifer's jawline. He savored the soft gasp that escaped Lucifer's lips, filing away each reaction like precious gems.

"The bed," Lucifer's fingers curled into Alastor's shirt. "We should—"

"Not yet," Alastor murmured, capturing Lucifer's lips in a searing kiss. He poured everything he couldn't say into it—his gratitude, his adoration, his powerful protectiveness over this beautiful, vulnerable man.

Lucifer melted against him, a soft whimper escaping as Alastor deepened the kiss.

When they finally parted, both were breathing heavily. Lucifer's golden eyes were hazy with desire, his lips kiss-swollen and tempting. Alastor felt a surge of pride at the sight.

"Now," Lucifer said, his voice a mix of command and plea. "Bed. Before my knees give out entirely."

Alastor's smile deepened, a glint of hunger flickering in his eyes.

"Lead the way, my love," he purred. "I believe we have some petals to disturb."

They tumbled onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and laughter, the red silk sheets cool against their heated skin.

Rose petals scattered, clinging to their sweat-damp shoulders as they settled into the plush mattress.

"You're breathtaking like this," Alastor propped himself up on one elbow, gazing down at Lucifer with undisguised adoration.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Lucifer quipped, but his voice held a tremor.

Alastor's heart clenched. Even now, after everything, Lucifer struggled to accept compliments. He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of Lucifer's mouth.

"I mean it, darling. Every word."

"How do you do that?" Lucifer's breath hitched. He reached up, cupping Alastor's face with trembling hands.

"Do what?" Alastor asked, nuzzling into Lucifer's touch.

"Make me feel…" the blonde trailed off, searching for words. "Seen. Wanted. Like I'm…"

"Everything?" Alastor supplied, his voice soft. "Because you are, Lucifer. To me, you are everything."

A small, choked sound escaped Lucifer's throat.

He pulled Alastor down for a deep, desperate kiss, pouring all his unspoken emotions into the connection.

"What did I do to deserve you?" Lucifer breathed,gazing up at Alastor with an expression of pure wonder.

Alastor chuckled, leaning into the touch. "I ask myself the same thing every day, my love."

Alastor's fingers danced across Lucifer's chest, mapping every dip and curve with reverent precision. He traced the soft swell of Lucifer's stomach, feeling the slight quiver beneath his touch.

"You're exquisite," Alastor murmured, his voice low and husky. He bent down, pressing his lips to the hollow of Lucifer's throat.

"Alastor, I—"

"Shh," Alastor soothed, nipping gently at the sensitive skin. "Let me adore you properly."

He worked his way down Lucifer's body, leaving a trail of kisses and bruising bites.

Lucifer squirmed beneath him, golden hair splayed against the red silk sheets.

"I want to remember this," Alastor breathed against Lucifer's hip. "Every inch of you."

"Then don't stop," Lucifer's fingers threaded through Alastor's dark curls, and Alastor didn’t stop him.

There was no need to rush, no urgency driving them forward. This wasn't about dominance or submission. It was about connection, about savoring each moment of closeness.

"I won't," Alastor promised, pressing a tender kiss to Lucifer's inner thigh. "We have all night, my darling. And I intend to use every second of it."

Rose petals clung to their sweat-dampened skin. Their lips met in a languid kiss, tongues dancing in a familiar rhythm. Alastor's hand trailed down Lucifer's side, relishing the slight shiver it elicited.

"Darling," Alastor murmured against Lucifer's lips, "touch me."

Lucifer's fingers danced across Alastor's chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart. As his hand drifted lower, skimming over taut abdominal muscles, Lucifer gasped softly in surprise.

Alastor was already fully hard, his cock hot and heavy in Lucifer's palm. That was… unexpected.

Typically it took time and considerable effort to work Alastor up to this state. Lucifer had always relished the challenge, savoring each reaction he could coax from his usually composed lover.

But this…this was different.

There was no hint of Alastor's customary possessiveness, no growled demands or bruising grip. Instead, Alastor's touch remained reverent, his hazel eyes shining with a depth of emotion that made Lucifer's breath catch.

"Alastor," Lucifer breathed, wonder coloring his voice. "You're…"

"Completely enamored with you?" Alastor finished, a tender smile playing at his lips.

The realization hit Lucifer like a wave.

This wasn't just desire - this was love in its purest form, manifesting as an overwhelming need for connection. Alastor's arousal stemmed not from possessiveness or lust, but from a profound emotional intimacy that left him aching to be closer.

"I love you," Lucifer whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Alastor, I…I need you. Please."

"Tell me what you want, my darling. Anything." Alastor's breath hitched, his eyes darkening with desire.

"I want to feel all of you," Lucifer swallowed hard, gathering his courage. "I want…I want you inside me, Alastor. Please."

"Are you certain?" A soft groan escaped Alastor's lips, his forehead pressing against Lucifer's. "We don't have to—"

"I'm sure," Lucifer insisted, pulling Alastor down for a deep, passionate kiss. When they parted, both were breathless. "I want this. I want you."

"Then let me love you.”

Lucifer nodded, reaching beneath the pillow.

He produced a small bottle, and Alastor couldn't help but laugh when he saw the label.

"Strawberry flavored? Really, Lucifer?"

Lucifer's cheeks flushed an adorable shade of pink. "I thought it might be…fun."

The brunette's laughter softened into a fond chuckle. "You never cease to surprise me."

Alastor coated his fingers generously with the lubricant, its sweet scent mingling with the heady aroma of roses.

Alastor's slick fingers traced gentle circles around Lucifer's entrance, savoring the soft gasp that escaped his lover's lips.

He took his time, massaging the furled with reverent care.

"Relax for me, darling," Alastor murmured, pressing feather-light kisses along Lucifer's collar.

Lucifer's hand found Alastor's cock, stroking with a languid rhythm that matched the brunette's movements.

Slowly, so slowly, Alastor eased a single finger inside.

Lucifer's body welcomed him, heat enveloping his digit as he pressed deeper. He curled his finger, searching for that spot that would make his lover see stars.

"Oh!" Lucifer's back arched off the bed, his grip on Alastor's cock tightening reflexively. "There, right there."

“Easy,” Alastor smiled against Lucifer's skin, adding a second finger with practiced ease. He scissored them gently, stretching and preparing his lover with infinite patience.

Time seemed to slow, measured only by their shared breaths and soft sounds of pleasure.

Alastor worked Lucifer open with meticulous care, never rushing, savoring every shiver and gasp.

Lucifer's hand moved in long, lazy strokes along Alastor's cock, occasionally pausing to smear precome across the sensitive head. The scent of strawberries mingled with the musk of their arousal.

"More," Lucifer breathed. "Please, Alastor."

A third finger joined the others, and Lucifer keened softly at the stretch. Alastor's free hand caressed Lucifer's thigh, soothing and grounding.

"You're doing so well, my love," Alastor praised, his voice rough with want. "So perfect for me."

Lucifer whimpered, his hips rocking against Alastor's hand. The slow, thorough preparation was exquisite torture, pleasure building with agonizing sweetness.

"Alastor," Lucifer gasped, his patience finally snapping. "I need you. Now. Please, I can't wait any longer."

"As you wish, my darling."

Alastor withdrew his fingers with exquisite care, leaving Lucifer feeling achingly empty.

But the loss was fleeting, as Alastor shifted, aligning their bodies with practiced ease. Lucifer's leg slid up Alastor's narrow hip.

Face to face, side by side, they could see every flicker of emotion in each other's eyes.

With agonizing slowness, Alastor pressed the head of his cock into Lucifer.

His lover’s body yielded to him, enveloping him in tight, silken heat. When Alastor was fully burried inside Lucifer, he stilled, simply savoring the moment.

"You feel divine," Alastor murmured.

He brushed a stray lock of golden hair from Lucifer's forehead, marveling at the softness beneath his fingertips.

Lucifer's response was a breathless whimper, his body trembling with the effort of remaining still.

The stretch and fullness were exquisite, bordering on too much, yet somehow not quite enough. He clung to Alastor, fingertips digging into lean muscle.

But Alastor made no move to…move.

Instead, he showered Lucifer's face with feather-light kisses. Each press of his lips was a wordless declaration of reverence. Lucifer's eyelids fluttered closed, overwhelmed by the tenderness of the gesture.

"I love you," Alastor whispered against Lucifer's skin. "More than I ever thought possible."

"I love you too," Lucifer's heart swelled, threatening to burst with the intensity of his emotions."So much, Alastor. So much."

They traded slow, languid kisses, savoring the taste of each other's lips. Alastor's hand traced lazy patterns along Lucifer's side, feeling the slight quiver of muscle beneath warm skin.

Eventually, the ache of desire became too much to ignore. Lucifer rocked his hips, a silent plea for more.

"Please," he whispered against Alastor's lips. "Move. I need to feel you."

Alastor obliged, drawing back slowly before pressing forward once more. The drag of his cock inside Lucifer was exquisite, sending sparks of pleasure coursing through both their bodies.

He set a languorous rhythm, each thrust deep and purposeful.

Lucifer's leg tightened around Alastor's hip, urging him closer still.

Every thrust of Alastor's hips sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through him, building and building until he felt he might shatter from the intensity.

His hands fisted in the silk sheets, rose petals crushed beneath his fingers as he sought an anchor against the rising tide of ecstasy.

"Alastor," he gasped, his voice a breathy, broken sound.

His words dissolved into a low, keening moan as Alastor shifted, angling his hips to strike that perfect spot deep inside of Lucifer. Lucifer's back arched off the bed, his body a taut bowstring. Golden hair splayed across the crimson silk, damp with sweat and clinging to his flushed skin.

Alastor's lips never left Lucifer's body, trailing heated kisses along the column of his throat, across his heaving chest.

Each press of his mouth was a wordless declaration of love, of reverence for the man trembling beneath him.

"That's it, my darling," Alastor murmured against Lucifer's skin, his voice rough with desire. "Let go for me. You're so beautiful like this."

Those words, coupled with a particularly deep thrust, sent Lucifer tumbling over the edge. His orgasm crashed over him in waves, each crest higher than the last.

He cried out Alastor's name like a prayer, his entire body shuddering.

Alastor held him close, riding out every tremor, every aftershock. His hips never ceased their steady rhythm, drawing out Lucifer's pleasure until it bordered on overwhelming.

Only when the blonde tapped desperately on his arm did he slow, pressing tender kisses to his lover's temple.

"Don't stop," Lucifer gasped, his voice hoarse and breathless. His hands, unsteady but insistent, grabbed Alastor's face. "Unless you want to. But please, Alastor…come inside me."

Alastor's control, already tenuous, snapped at those words. He captured Lucifer's lips in a searing kiss, his hips driving forward with renewed urgency.

The tight heat of Lucifer's body, the taste of his lips, the soft sounds of pleasure he continued to make—it was all too much.

With a low groan muffled against Lucifer's neck, he buried himself deep, trembling as relief finally washed over him.

Lucifer held Alastor close, whispering words of love and encouragement as the younger spilled inside him.

The aftermath was a haze of warmth and contentment.

Neither of them moved, their bodies still intimately joined, breath slowly steadying.

The bed was a tangled mess of red silk sheets and scattered rose petals. Flickering candlelight cast a soft, golden glow across their tangled limbs, highlighting the sheen of sweat on their skin.

Alastor's fingers traced idle patterns against Lucifer's bare thigh, his touch feather-light and reverent.

He felt utterly at peace, basking in the afterglow and the closeness of his lover.

"I don't think I've ever felt quite this…content," Alastor murmured.

Lucifer's lips curved into a lazy smile, his golden eyes warm with affection.

"Mmm," he hummed in agreement, then bit his lower lip, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his expression. "Alastpr, would you…stay inside me for a bit longer? Please?"

The request sent a surge of warmth through Alastor's chest.

He pressed a gentle kiss to Lucifer's forehead, marveling at how such a simple act of intimacy could feel so profound.

"Of course, darling," Alastor replied softly. "I'm in no hurry to move."

Lucifer nodded, nestling his head against Alastor's chest.

Alastor hummed contentedly, his fingers finding their way to Lucifer's golden hair. He carded through the soft strands, marveling at how they caught the flickering candlelight.

"I'll stay as long as I can, love," he murmured, his voice a low rumble in the quiet room. "Though I warn you, we might be here until morning at this rate."

"I see no problem with that," Lucifer chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against Alastor's chest.

The warmth of Lucifer's body seeped into Alastor's bones, steady and real. It was a stark contrast to the cold loneliness he'd felt for so long.

This—this closeness, this intimacy—felt like coming home.

"I love you, darling," Alastor whispered, the words slipping out before he could second-guess them. He tensed for a moment, wondering if it was too soon, too much.

But Lucifer's response was immediate, his voice thick with emotion. "I love you too, Al. So much."

The silence between them was comfortable, weighted with unspoken understanding.

"What are you thinking about?" Lucifer shifted slightly, his breath warm against Alastor's neck.

Alastor considered the question, a small smile playing at his lips. "Nothing," he replied honestly. "And everything."

He felt Lucifer's answering smile against his skin. "That's quite profound for someone who just fucked my brains out," Lucifer teased gently.

A low chuckle rumbled in Alastor's chest. "I'll have you know I'm always profound, darling. It's part of my charm."

There was no need to prove anything, no walls to maintain. Just this moment. Just them.

❣️Ao3❣️Original Fics (1 Year Free)❣️Tumblr❣️

[darcydarlingdabbles]

At Valentine’s Day~ Part 11 - Real Talk

RadioApple🩷Human Au/Age Gap🩷Top!Dom!Alastor

🩷Divorced Dad!Lucifer🩷Explicit

Shadows rise, the past won’t rest, A game once played, a hidden test. Truth or lie, what will you see? Will you still love the past in me?

🩷🩷🩷

❣️Ao3❣️Original Fics (1 Year Free)❣️Tumblr❣️

Lucifer eased the bedroom door open, wincing as it creaked. Alastor lay sprawled across the bed, one arm flung over his eyes. His usually immaculate curls were a wild tangle against the pillow.

"How are we feeling this morning?" Lucifer murmured, padding across the room.

A muffled groan was his only response.

Lucifer's lips quirked in a sympathetic smile as he drew the heavy curtains closed, plunging the room into soothing darkness.

"That bad, hm?" He perched on the edge of the bed, running a gentle hand down Alastor's arm. "I've brought you some aspirin and water. Think you can sit up?"

Alastor lowered his arm, squinting at Lucifer with bloodshot eyes. "You're an angel," he rasped.

"Well, not according to my namesake." Lucifer chuckled softly. He helped Alastor into a sitting position, steadying him as he swallowed the pills.

As Alastor sank back against the pillows, Lucifer found himself studying the other man's face. Even disheveled and hungover, Alastor was breathtakingly handsome.

"I don't think I've ever seen you quite this…indisposed before," Lucifer mused, tracing idle patterns on the bedsheet. "Must have been quite the night Anthony set up."

"Ah, yes. Anthony has always had a talent for pushing my limits." Alastor tensed.

Lucifer's brow furrowed. There was something in Alastor's tone, a hint of…what? Regret? Shame? He couldn't quite place it.

"You two seem to have quite a history," Lucifer probed gently. "Known each other a long time, I take it?"

Alastor's gaze flickered away, focusing on some distant point. "Longer than I care to admit, sometimes," he said softly.

“Don’t know if you remember,” Lucifer murmured, being sure to keep his voice down. “But you and I talked last night.”

Alastor's eyes widened, his usually composed features twisting with surprise and apprehension. He pushed himself up further against the headboard, wincing as the movement sent a fresh wave of pain through his temples.

“What uh…what exactly did I say?”

"You were surprisingly articulate for someone who'd had that much to drink," Lucifer said, his voice a low, comforting rumble. “You told me about the bachelorette party, about the…performance with Anthony.”

Alastor's face flushed, the rich brown of his skin darkening with renewed shame and worry. "Lucifer, I—"

"Shh," Lucifer soothed, gripping the younger’s arm. The touch was feather-light, but it silenced Alastor as effectively as any command. "You've already apologized. And I've already forgiven you."

Sunlight filtered through a gap in the curtains, casting a golden stripe across the rumpled bedsheets. Alastor's eyes followed the light, his gaze distant and troubled.

"What I'd like now, now that you’re sober," Lucifer continued, his voice gentle but firm. He cupped Alastor's cheek, turning the other man's face towards him. "Is for you to promise me you won’t do anything like that again…and that you’ll be honest with me."

Alastor swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing visibly. He reached up, covering Lucifer's hand with his own. His palm was warm, slightly clammy from sleep and hangover, but the touch was grounding.

"I promise," Alastor said, his voice rough with more than just the aftermath of alcohol. "I swear to you, Lucifer, I'll be honest." He took a deep breath, seeming to steel himself. The air in the room grew heavy with anticipation, like the moment before a thunderstorm broke.

“Which is why…I am sure there’s more I need to tell you, about my past.” The rich, smooth tones that normally flowed from his lips were ragged, betraying his uncertainty.

"You told me about being a rent-a-Dom for performances, sometimes with Anthony. It sounded rather risqué, but not grotesque."

Alastor swallowed hard. He ran a hand through his disheveled curls, a nervous habit he rarely indulged in. But his hair was already a mess.

"Ah, yes. That's…That's accurate. Erotic, but not pornographic, if you will."

"Why didn't you want to tell me about this before? It doesn't seem like something to be ashamed of."Lucifer tilted his head.

Alastor's gaze darted around the room, taking in the familiar surroundings of Lucifer's bedroom—the antique dresser, the tasteful artwork, the small stack of books on the nightstand. Anything to avoid meeting Lucifer's eyes directly.

“Because,” Alastor winced, reaching a hand up to rub at his temples. “There’s…more to it.”

Lucifer's heart quickened. He sensed he was on the edge of uncovering something significant, some piece of Alastor's past that had shaped the man he'd fallen for.

"I hope you know," Lucifer began carefully, "that you can tell me anything. About your past, about Anthony…I want to know you, Alastor. All of you."

"I was a professional dominant, for performances and exhibitions, yes…but I also did some, private work."

Alastor took a deep breath, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of the blanket.

“I had a few clients, who paid for a similar experience to those I provided on stage.” The brunette said, with some hesitation. “It’s, actually how I managed to pay my way through university…it isn’t cheap, as you know.

Alastor finally glanced up, searching Lucifer's face.

"I…I expect you're upset. It's not exactly a conventional past."

To Alastor's surprise, there was no hint of disgust or anger, in his boyfriend’s face, only a gentle curiosity that made his heart skip a beat.

"I appreciate you sharing that with me, Alastor," Lucifer said, his voice warm and reassuring. "It must have taken a lot of courage to tell me."

Alastor blinked, momentarily stunned by the lack of judgment in Lucifer's tone. He had braced himself for shock, perhaps even revulsion, but instead found only acceptance.

"You're not…upset?" Alastor asked hesitantly, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"Why would I be? It's in the past, isn't it? You're not still doing it now, are you?" Lucifer shook his head, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"No, of course not," Alastor replied quickly, his voice tinged with relief. "That part of my life ended before we met."

With clients, it had been a performance, a carefully choreographed dance of power and submission.

But with Lucifer, every touch, every whispered word, every shared moment of vulnerability was genuine, born from a deep well of emotion that Alastor had never experienced before.

"I knew you came from the BDSM world," Lucifer continued, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of Alastor's hand. "And I'd wondered how you managed to afford such a…prestigious university. It makes sense now."

Alastor let out a soft chuckle, some of the tension easing from his shoulders.

"Well, yes, it was quite the night job. Suited my hours perfectly." His fingers intertwined with Lucifer's, drawing comfort from the touch. "Between classes and study sessions, I'd slip away to…well, to dominate."

”Quite the extracurricular activity." Lucifer paused, his tone shifting to something lighter, almost teasing.

Alastor's smile faltered, his gaze dropping to their joined hands. The silence stretched, laden with unspoken secrets.

"Alastor?" he prodded gently, squeezing the other man's hand. "There's more, isn't there?"

Alastor wondered how much he should reveal. Would Lucifer's acceptance extend this far?

"Lucifer, I…" He took a deep breath, steeling himself. "I was…a rent-a-date, too," Alastor's hazel eyes remained fixed on the bedsheets, his usual confidence vanished. "Through contacts I made with Anthony, who was also an escort."

He could feel his heart beating in his throat, and his fingers twitched against Lucifer's palm, as if he expected the other man to pull away at any moment.

But Lucifer's grip remained steady, even as silence enveloped them.

The rest of the older man’s body betrayed a subtle shift. His shoulders hunched slightly, curling inward as if to protect himself. His free arm wrapped around his midsection, fingers clutching at the soft fabric of his sweater.

Lucifer's lips parted, then closed again, as if the words he wanted to say had lodged themselves in his throat.

The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy as molasses. Even the soft whisper of the curtains stirring in the breeze seemed muted, as if the room itself was holding its breath.

"Lucifer," Alastor murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He reached out with his free hand, hesitating for a moment before gently cupping Lucifer's cheek. "Talk to me, please. What's going through your mind?"

Lucifer leaned into the touch, almost unconsciously, even as his body language remained closed off.

The brunette found himself languishing in the silence. Should he explain further? Apologize?

He opened his mouth to speak, but Lucifer beat him to it.

"Tell me more," Lucifer said softly, his gold-flecked eyes finally meeting Alastor's. "If you're comfortable, that is. I want to understand."

Alastor took a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly at Lucifer's gentle prompting. He shifted on the bed, angling his body towards Lucifer, though his gaze remained fixed on their intertwined hands.

"Mostly, it was older ladies who didn't want to be embarrassed at high-brow functions. Charity galas, opera premieres, that sort of thing."

Lucifer nodded slowly, processing the information. His brow furrowed slightly as a thought occurred to him.

"Alastor," he began hesitantly, "does that include…your friend Rosie?"

Alastor's eyes widened briefly behind his glasses, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. He hadn't expected Lucifer to make that connection so quickly.

Swallowing hard, he nodded. "Yes," he confessed softly. "Rosie was one of my regular clients."

Lucifer's grip on Alastor's hand tightened almost imperceptibly.

"It wasn't about sex," Alastor said quickly, his usual smooth cadence tinged with a hint of nervousness. "I had strict boundaries, and I always maintained control."

Lucifer's gaze was steady, his expression filled with curiosity and concern. "Did you…" he paused, choosing his words carefully, "Did you sleep with your clients, Alastor?"

Alastor's fingers twitched against Lucifer's palm. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, struggling to find the right words.

"No," he said finally, his voice low and strained. "Not…not in the traditional sense."

"Are you splitting hairs again?"

Alastor let out a soft, humorless chuckle. "I suppose I am," he admitted, gently pulling his hand away from Lucifer's.

The loss of contact felt like a chasm opening between them, and Alastor's heart clenched painfully in his chest.

"You don't have to…" Lucifer began, reaching out, but Alastor shook his head.

"It's alright," Alastor said softly. "I understand if you don't want to touch me right now."

The room seemed to shrink around them. Alastor took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he needed to say next.

"After a scene, sometimes…sometimes I would…help clients release the residual tension," he explained, his voice barely above a whisper. "Which…is probably splitting hairs again—It wasn't intercourse, but it was sexual. Toys, hands, occasionally oral." His eyes remained fixed on the rumpled bedsheets, unable to meet Lucifer's gaze.

The confession felt like tangible thing that seemed to pulse with its own energy. Alastor could hear his own heartbeat thundering in his ears.

"I see," Lucifer said finally, his voice carefully neutral. "And…Rosie?"

Alastor's head snapped up, his eyes wide—making him realize for the first time he wasn’t wearing his glasses. "No," he said quickly, shaking his head. "No, Rosie was a frequent date and, later, a friend. We'd go to events together, make small talk, dance a little. Often because one of her ex-husbands was there—but there was never anything sexual between us."

"I see," he murmured, his voice carefully neutral.

Alastor watched Lucifer's face intently, trying to gauge his reaction.

"Does that…bother you?" he asked, unable to keep a hint of vulnerability from creeping into his voice.

Lucifer took a deep breath, running both hands over his face and into his hair.

"I stand by what I said last night, you don't have to apologize to me for your past, Alastor," he said, his voice gentle but firm.

The tension in Alastor's shoulders eased slightly, but a flicker of uncertainty remained in his eyes.

“I feel as if there’s a caveat to that sentence.” Alastor murmured.

“Not exactly,” Lucifer murmured, pulling his knees and resting his chin on them. “It's not that I'm upset about your past, Alastor," Lucifer began, his voice soft and measured. "What you did then…it's part of who you are, and I want to know all of you.”

He paused, running a hand through his disheveled blond hair, the strands catching the light like spun gold.

"The thing is," Lucifer continued, his gold-flecked eyes meeting Alastor's hazel ones, "when your past becomes part of our present, I feel…I feel like I need to know."

"What do you mean?" Alastor asked, his brow furrowing slightly.

Lucifer sighed, the sound heavy. "When we're at a party, and Rosie pulls you aside for a private chat, or when Anthony makes one of his sugar daddy jokes…I feel like I'm missing something crucial. Like I'm the only one not in on the secret."

The dust motes dancing in the air seemed to slow, as if time itself was suspended.

"It's not that I want to pry into every detail of your past," Lucifer explained, his voice taking on a hint of insecurity that made Alastor's heart ache. “But when these things come up, and I'm left in the dark…it makes me feel like a fool, Alastor.”

"I never meant to make you feel that way. I…I was afraid. Afraid that if you knew everything, you might see me differently. That you might not want me anymore."

Lucifer's eyes softened, a flicker of understanding passing through them. He reached out, his fingers ghosting over Alastor's arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

"Alastor," he began, his voice barely above a whisper, "I need to ask you something, and I want you to be honest with me."

"Of course," his voice was a croak, like his throat had gone dry.

Lucifer took a deep breath, his gold-flecked eyes searching Alastor's face. "Are you worried that I might think you're treating me like…like one of your wealthy clients?"

The look of horror that flashed across Alastor’s face was akin to his expressions last night.

He moved suddenly, like he wanted to pull Lucifer into his arms, or maybe throw himself at the blonde’s mercy.

"No!" Alastor exclaimed, his voice cracking with emotion. "Lucifer, no. That's not…I would never…"

He trailed off, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, as if he wasn't sure whether to reach out or pull away.

"I know you're not with me for my money, believe me," Lucifer held up a hand, his expression calm and reassuring. "And I know what we have is real."

Alastor's shoulders sagged with relief, but tension still thrummed through his body like a taut wire. He perched on the bed, close enough to touch Lucifer but maintaining a small distance.

"You told me you hadn't had real intimacy with anyone," Lucifer continued, his voice gentle but firm. "But we have, Alastor. I know it’s not something you could fake."

“I…haven’t. I wouldn’t…”

Lucifer reached out, cupping Alastor's face in his hands. His touch was feather-light, as if he was handling something infinitely precious.

“I know.” Lucifer smiled softly at him.

The younger man studied Lucifer's face, searching for any hint of judgment or disappointment. Finding none, he felt a surge of affection for this man who continually surprised him with his understanding.

Alastor hesitated, his hand hovering uncertainly near Lucifer's arm. "I'm not sure if I'm allowed to comfort you…if you want me to touch you."

Lucifer blinked, his golden eyes widening slightly as he processed Alastor's hesitant contact. Without warning, he pulled himself right into Alastor’s arms.

Alastor let himself fall back against the pile of pillows, Lucifer curled against his chest and wrapped in his arms. The soft cotton of Lucifer's oversized sweater brushed against Alastor's skin, a comforting sensation that grounded him in the moment.

The warmth of Lucifer's body seeped into him, chasing away the last vestiges of tension that had coiled in his muscles.

Alastor's heartbeat, which had been racing throughout their conversation, gradually slowed to a steady rhythm.

He could feel Lucifer's own heartbeat against his chest, a gentle counterpoint to his own.

The harmony of their breathing, the rise and fall of their chests in tandem, created a sense of tranquility that Alastor had never experienced before.

He allowed his eyes to close, savoring the intimacy of the moment.

The weight of Lucifer in his arms, the soft whisper of breath against his neck, the intertwining of their legs beneath the rumpled sheets—it all felt profoundly right.

After a long moment of comfortable silence, Lucifer shifted slightly in Alastor's embrace.

"Alastor?" Lucifer's voice was soft, hesitant. "Can I…can I ask a question?"

Alastor's eyes fluttered open, his gaze dropping to meet Lucifer's. "Of course, my dear. Always."

Lucifer took a deep breath, his fingers stilling on Alastor's chest.

"I'm worried that…well, that your experiences with escorting and performing might have…if all of that might be what made sex and intimacy difficult for you. If it left you feeling used or unsafe." Lucifer nodded, his gaze dropping to their joined hands. "Because I know I have issues with that."

Alastor felt a surge of protectiveness wash over him, mingled with a deep appreciation for Lucifer's concern.

Alastor tightened his arms around Lucifer, pulling him closer as if he could shield him from the pain of past experiences.

"Oh, Lucifer," Alastor murmured, his lips brushing against the soft golden strands of hair. "I appreciate your concern, truly. But my issues are…they're not quite so straightforward."

He paused, gathering his thoughts.

The room was quiet save for their breathing and the soft rustle of sheets as Lucifer shifted against him.

"To be honest, I'm not entirely sure which came first," Alastor continued, his voice low and thoughtful. "My difficulties with intimacy, or my previous choice of career."

Lucifer nodded against Alastor's chest, his fingers tracing idle patterns on the younger man's skin.

The touch was soothing, grounding, and Alastor found himself relaxing further into the embrace.

"I can assure you, though," Alastor said, his voice growing stronger, "that my experiences as a rent-a-Dom and escort didn't leave me feeling used or unsafe. If anything, they gave me a sense of control I hadn't had before."

He tilted Lucifer's chin up gently, meeting his gaze. "But what you're alluding to, about your past with her…that's different. Bad experiences in BDSM can be deeply traumatic. I hope you know that wasn't your fault, Lucifer."

Lucifer's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of vulnerability passing across his features. Alastor's heart ached at the sight, and he pressed a soft kiss to Lucifer's forehead.

"As for me," Alastor continued, his voice warm and sincere, "I want you to know that I feel completely safe with you, Lucifer. What we have…it's unlike anything I've experienced before."

He ran his fingers through Lucifer's hair, reveling in the silky texture. "When we're together, I never feel pressured. Whether it's to penetrate, to orgasm, or to do anything I'm not comfortable with. You give me the space to just…be."

He felt Lucifer nestle deeper into his chest.

"With you," Alastor whispered, his voice thick with emotion, "I can let go of the control I've always clung to. I can be vulnerable and know that you'll catch me if I fall."

As he spoke, Alastor couldn't help but marvel at the man before him. Lucifer, with his soft sweaters and doe eyes, continually surprised him with his depth of understanding and compassion.

It made Alastor want to offer more of himself in return, to peel back the layers of his carefully constructed persona and reveal the truths hidden beneath.

"I…I should have told you sooner, Lucifer," Alastor's hazel eyes flicked downward, his long fingers fidgeting with the edge of the soft blanket draped across their laps. "About my past, about all of it. I'm sorry for keeping that from you."

"You don't owe me an apology for your past, Alastor," Lucifer said softly, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of Alastor's hand.

Carefully, the brunette reached down, cupping Lucifer's face gently in his palm.

The blonde man leaned into the touch, his golden eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment. Without a word, he closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to Alastor's in a tender, searching kiss.

Alastor responded immediately, wrapping his arms around Lucifer and pulling him close.

The kiss deepened, a silent conversation of reassurance and acceptance passing between them. Alastor's fingers tangled in Lucifer's disheveled blond hair, while Lucifer's arms curled completely around the youngers narrow waist.

As they broke apart, both slightly breathless, Alastor held Lucifer tightly against his chest.

He marveled at how perfectly they fit together, how natural it felt to offer comfort and receive it in return.

For once, the witty remarks and clever quips that usually danced on the tip of his tongue were unnecessary. In this moment, all that mattered was the warmth of Lucifer's body against his own and the unspoken understanding that passed between them.

Alastor's fingers traced lazy patterns on Lucifer's back, his mind drifting to the paths that had led him here. He let out a soft chuckle, the sound rumbling in his chest.

Alastor's fingers continued their gentle exploration of Lucifer's back, tracing the dips and curves beneath the soft fabric of his sweater.

"Do you remember," Alastor began, his voice a low, melodious rumble, "what I said to you that first night you let me into your bedroom at the chalet?"

"You said a lot of things that night," Lucifer shifted slightly in Alastor's arms, his cheeks flushing a delicate pink.

"True enough," Alastor chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest and into Lucifer's. "But I'm thinking of something specific. About how you make me want to break my own rules."

Lucifer's breath caught in his throat, his golden eyes widening as the memory washed over him. He remembered the intensity in Alastor's gaze, the way his voice had dropped to a husky whisper as he'd confessed that desire—all the while fucking Lucifer into his feathertop mattress.

"How I let you kiss me," Alastor continued, his fingers trailing up to brush against the nape of Lucifer's neck. "How I let you touch me."

The brunette's voice grew softer, more contemplative.

"Those were the boundaries I had as a Dom escort. I got my clients off, but I wouldn't let them return the favor. I never allowed that level of intimacy."

Lucifer pulled back slightly, just enough to meet Alastor's gaze. The vulnerability he saw there, mixed with a deep, abiding affection, made his heart clench in his chest.

"But with you," Alastor murmured, his thumb brushing along Lucifer's jawline, "I wanted to throw all those rules out the window. I wanted to let you in, in every way possible."

Lucifer felt a surge of warmth bloom in his chest, a mix of honor and humility at being the one Alastor chose to open up to.

"I remember," Lucifer whispered, leaning into Alastor's touch. "I remember feeling lucky to have that, for you to trust me so much."

"You make it easy to be brave, my dear," Alastor's lips curved into a soft smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners."You've never pushed, never demanded. You've always let me set the pace, even when I know you've wanted more."

Lucifer's golden eyes flickered with uncertainty, his fingers absently tracing patterns on Alastor's chest. The room felt warm, almost too warm, and he could hear the faint ticking of the bedside clock.

Their lips met in a kiss that was gentle yet profound, sealing their new understanding.

As they parted, Lucifer felt lighter, as if a weight he hadn't even realized he'd been carrying had been lifted.

"Alastor?" Lucifer's voice was barely above a whisper.

"Hmm?"

Lucifer took a deep breath, steadying himself. "I want us to promise…no more secrets between us. I know we've both had our reasons for holding back, but I don't want that anymore. I want to know all of you, and I want you to know all of me. The good, the bad, the messy parts—everything."

For a moment, Alastor was silent, and Lucifer felt his heart racing. Then, Alastor cupped Lucifer's face in his hands, his touch impossibly gentle.

"No more secrets," Alastor agreed, his words a solemn vow. "I want to share everything with you, to build a life together without walls or barriers between us."

❣️Ao3❣️Original Fics (1 Year Free)❣️Tumblr❣️

[darcydarlingdabbles]

At Valentine’s Day~ Part 7 - No Drama

RadioApple🩷Human Au/Age Gap🩷Top!Dom!Alastor

🩷Divorced Dad!Lucifer🩷Explicit

Clink your glasses, say a toast,

Let’s celebrate the brides the most.

But whispers linger, shadows creep—

Some words cut just too deep.

🩷🩷🩷

❣️Ao3❣️Original Fics (1 Year Free)❣️Tumblr❣️

The Morningstar mansion buzzed with laughter and chatter, a kaleidoscope of colorful dresses and clinking champagne flutes.

Charlie's eyes sparkled as she took in the scene, her heart swelling with joy at the sight of so many loved ones gathered to celebrate her upcoming wedding to Vaggie.

"I still can't believe this is all for us," Charlie whispered, squeezing Vaggie's hand.

"Better believe it, hon." Vaggie smiled, a light blush coloring her cheeks.

Charlie's gaze drifted across the room, landing on her father.

Lucifer stood at the corner of the den. Not taking up one of the couches or really joining in with all the talking and snacking—though he’d made most everything they were enjoying.

She knew it was still hard for him to get social in large groups, but he was putting on a brave face for her. And that meant the world to her.

Her concerns were momentarily forgotten as Anthony's voice rang out above the din. "Alright, ladies and gents! Who's ready for some games?"

A chorus of excited whoops answered him. Charlie couldn't help but grin at Anthony's infectious enthusiasm. He'd insisted on planning the entertainment himself, and his flair for showmanship was on full display.

"First up, we've got the classic 'Toilet Paper Wedding Dress' challenge!" Anthony announced, producing several rolls of quilted white paper with a flourish. "Find a partner and get ready to create haute couture!"

As the guests began to pair up, Alastor's gaze drifted to the corner where Lucifer stood, a small smile on his face as he watched the festivities from afar.

Well now, the brunette had insisted to Charlie that he didn’t want to participate in these ridiculous little games—but Lucifer on the other hand had seemed overjoyed with every cheesy little festivity and suggestion Anthony made.

So why was he missing out now?

With a slight tilt of his head, Alastor made his way through the crowd, dodging excited partygoers and their armfuls of toilet paper.

"Darling," Alastor softly, thinking they would not be overheard. "Not joining in the fun?"

“I’m just fine here,” Lucifer shook his head, his blonde hair catching the light from one of the high windows. "But…thanks for checking on me."

Just as Alastor was about to raise a hand to the shoulder of Lucifer’s sweater, to offer his partner some words of encouragement or comfort—Lilith glided past from the kitchen.

Her long dress rustled softly as she paused.

“It’s probably for the best.” She shrugged, her long hair moving like a curtain of silk. “Wedding showers are more for women, anyway.”

The implication being that these two men didn’t belong made Alastor grit his teeth—but without missing a beat, he forced a smile.

“What an excellent point,” he chuckled brightly. “I am the Man of Honor after all—I simply must participate.” Alastor reached down, quickly threading his fingers with his partner’s. “And you’ll make a great partner.”

Before Lucifer could protest, Alastor had whisked him away to an empty spot at the front of the room, along side the girls and their teammates.

“Alastor, really, are we doing this?” Lucifer blinked in surprise but found himself chuckling as Alastor began draping toilet paper across his shoulders.

"But of course!" Alastor exclaimed, his hands moving with practiced precision. "Only the finest paper couture for the father of the bride!"

As Alastor worked, his nimble fingers crafting lapels and a bowtie from the flimsy material, Lucifer gradually relaxed. His initial discomfort faded, replaced by amusement at his boyfriend’s enthusiasm.

The younger man looked up, catching Anthony’s eye, and giving a little jerk of his head.

The wedding planner turned, his mismatched gaze finding a very miffed looking Lilith.

With a mischievous grin, he sauntered over, linking his arm through hers. "Hey there, gorgeous! Looks like you need a partner. Come on, I've got just the gal for you."

Before Lilith could object, Anthony steered her towards a stern-looking woman with fly away gray hair, massive glasses, and a big feathery hat.

"Aunt Susan! Meet your new bestie for this game. You two lovely ladies have fun now!"

Aunt Susan's perpetual frown deepened as she eyed Lilith warily.

Lilith, for her part, looked as though she'd just bitten into a particularly sour lemon.

Anthony barely contained his laughter as he sashayed away, leaving the mismatched pair to their toilet paper dress-making adventure.

"And time's up!" Anthony called after ten frenzied minutes. "Let's see what masterpieces you've created!"

As the "brides" paraded their paper gowns, Charlie's sides ached from laughter. She'd managed to craft a passable sweetheart neckline for Vaggie, while her fiancée had given Charlie an impressive bustle.

"You know," Vaggie murmured, pressing a kiss to Charlie's cheek, "I think I prefer you like this. Easy access."

"Behave yourself," Charlie admonished halfheartedly. "We've got guests."

Their moment was interrupted by a burst of applause.

Charlie turned to see her father modeling an intricate toilet paper tuxedo, complete with a jaunty bow tie. Alastor stood beside him, looking inordinately pleased with his handiwork.

"I do believe we have our winner!" Anthony crowed, presenting Lucifer with a plastic tiara. "All hail the Toilet Paper King!"

As laughter rippled through the crowd, Charlie caught a glimpse of genuine happiness in her father's face.

The sight warmed her heart, chasing away her earlier concerns.

Anthony clapped her hands together, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Okay, everyone! It's time for the best part—opening gifts!"

As the guests gathered around, Vaggie settled onto the loveseat beside Charlie, their fingers intertwined.

The pile of beautifully wrapped presents before them gleamed with promise.

As Charlie and Vaggie began opening their gifts, cooing over delicate china and luxurious linens, Alastor gently guided Lucifer to a quiet corner of the room.

With nimble fingers, he began carefully removing the intricate toilet paper tuxedo, taking care not to tear the delicate creation.

"You wore it beautifully, darling," Alastor murmured, his voice low and warm as he adjusted the plastic tiara on Lucifer’s head. "What a handsome king you make."

A rosy blush crept across Lucifer's cheeks. "Well," he whispered, leaning in close, "you certainly seem to enjoy undressing me."

Alastor felt his eyebrows shoot up.

That was bold, especially for Lucifer. Especially in public.

“Oh, I always do.” The brunette’s eyes gleamed as he pressed even closer, his breath hot against Lucifer's ear, calling Lucifer’s bluff. "But I'll save the rest for after the party."

The older man’s blush deepened, spreading down his neck. He glanced around, ensuring no one was paying them any attention before whispering back, "Well, we won’t have to wait long after, right?"

Alastor could feel his pupils dilate at the reminder. "Not long at all" he purred, his voice dropping an octave. "Knowing you've been wearing that plug all day has been deliciously distracting."

Alastor’s idea, as usual. Though Lucifer seemed particularly enthusiastic—perhaps for the needed distraction from so many people in his private domain. Including his ex-wife.

The plug was a distraction, and a promise, that it would all be worthwhile.

Lucifer looked up at him, with those big golden eyes. And Alastor knew that look. The look that wanted to tempt the Dom into skipping his plans and getting right to the action.

“Lucifer…” Alastor began, his tone admonishing without any heat.

When their intimate moment was interrupted by a burst of laughter from the gift-opening area. Vaggie was holding up a set of fuzzy handcuffs, her face as red as a tomato while Charlie dissolved into giggles beside her.

"Now, now, Anthony," Alastor called out, his voice light and teasing despite the heat still simmering. "I thought we agreed to keep things family-friendly!"

“Hey! I said I’d save it for the bachelorette! But…” Anthony just winked, blowing a kiss in their direction. "Can't blame a guy for trying to spice things up a little!"

As the laughter died down and attention returned to the gifts, Alastor's hand found Lucifer's, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"This is from my great aunt Susan," Charlie said softly, handing Vaggie a delicately wrapped package.

Vaggie carefully peeled back the paper. Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson as she held up a minuscule pair of booties.

The party guests erupted into a chorus of good-natured teasing and laughter.

"Well, well," Anthony jopined in. "Looks like someone's got baby fever!"

"I-it's just a gift," Vaggie stammered, her face now practically glowing with embarrassment. She fumbled with the tiny booties, their soft pink fabric a stark contrast to her trembling hands.

Charlie wrapped an arm around Vaggie's shoulders and gave her a reassuring squeeze. "They're adorable," she said softly, her voice filled with warmth. Then, addressing the room with a playful wink, she added, "We've got to get through the wedding first!"

This proclamation was met with a mix of sighs and chuckles from the assembled guests.

Great Aunt Susan, however, was not so easily placated. The elderly woman rose from her seat with surprising swiftness, brandishing her ornate cane like a scepter.

"Now listen here, young ladies," she declared, her voice quavering but firm. "I expect great-great nieces and nephews, and I'm not getting any younger! These old bones won't wait forever, you know."

As if to emphasize her point, she gave her cane a little shake, causing the feathers on her hat to quiver indignantly.

Charlie couldn't help but laugh, the sound bright and infectious.

At the back of the room, Alastor and Anthony moved with practiced ease, weaving through the crowd with trays of drinks and cupcakes.

The two men worked in perfect sync, anticipating each other's movements as if they'd rehearsed a choreographed dance.

Alastor, ever the picture of elegance, balanced a tray of champagne flutes with one hand while offering them to guests with a flourish of the other. His perpetual smile seemed to grow even wider as he caught snippets of the conversation about babies and booties.

Anthony, for his part, was a whirlwind of energy, his tray of cupcakes a riot of pastel frosting and edible glitter. Each one a miniature work of art topped with tiny sugar flowers and pearls.

As the laughter and chatter continued to fill the room, Vaggie finally managed to compose herself. She set the booties aside and reached for Charlie's hand, interlacing their fingers.

As Alastor and Anthony worked flawlessly together, Lucifer couldn't help but marvel at their easy camaraderie.

A twinge of something—pride? relief?—bloomed in his chest. It was good to see Alastor so at ease, especially given the tension that had simmered between him and Anthony not so long ago.

His musings were interrupted by a familiar presence at his elbow. Lucifer stiffened, his spine going rigid as Lilith's perfume wafted over him.

"Hello, Lucifer," she purred, her voice honey-sweet. "Quite the affair, isn't it?"

"Lilith. Yes, it's…lovely." Lucifer swallowed hard, forcing a polite smile. He tugged at the collar of his sweater, suddenly feeling too warm. "Charlie and Vaggie seem thrilled."

"Our little girl, all grown up and getting married. Who would have thought?" Lilith's eyes gleamed.

"I'm so proud of her," Lucifer said softly, his gaze drifting to where Charlie stood, radiant with joy. "She's come so far."

"Indeed, she has," Lilith agreed, her tone almost wistful. "Though I can't help but wonder if she's truly ready for such a commitment, so young."

Lucifer could feel his ex-wife’s eyes lingering, the suggestion in her tone was obvious and pointed.

they had married younger, had Charlie younger than most of her peers’ parents. It had been a struggle, to balance being a young professor and a young father.

But…they made it work. At least, Lucifer thought they had.

Until Lilith left.

"Charlie knows what she wants, Lilith. She always has." Lucifer's jaw clenched.

"Of course, of course," Lilith demurred, laying a hand on his arm. The touch sent an uncomfortable tingle through Lucifer. "I just want what's best for her. As I'm sure you do."

Lucifer nodded stiffly, acutely aware of the weight of Lilith's hand, the familiar scent of her perfume.

It stirred memories he'd rather forget, reminding him of happier times—and the pain that followed.

"She'll be fine," he managed, his voice hoarse. "Charlie's stronger than we ever gave her credit for."

As Lilith's hand lingered on his arm, Lucifer felt his defenses slowly crumbling. Her touch, once so familiar, now felt alien. Uncomfortable.

He inhaled deeply, willing his racing heart to slow as he rolled his shoulders. Trying to be as gentle as he could, while rebuffing her touch.

"You're right," Lilith murmured, her voice unexpectedly gentle. "Our Charlie has always been resilient."

Lucifer's tension eased a fraction. Perhaps, he thought, they could navigate this moment without hostility.

"She gets that from you," he admitted, a ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

"Oh, I think she has plenty of your stubborn optimism too." Lilith's answering laugh was warm, genuine.

For a fleeting moment, Lucifer allowed himself to relax.

This wasn't so bad, was it? Maybe they could co-exist peacefully, if only for Charlie's sake.

"I've missed this," he found himself saying, immediately regretting it and having to clarify. "Just…talking. About Charlie."

Lilith's eyes softened, and Lucifer felt a pang of longing for the woman he'd once loved. But before she could respond, a burst of laughter from across the room drew their attention to the wedding planner and the man of honor."

The two men stood close, Anthony's hand resting casually on Alastor's arm as they laughed over some shared joke.

That was…unusual. Alastor wasn’t a fan of being touched.

Lucifer was the exception—at least usually. There were still some times where he caught the brunette on a bad day.

So why was he so easy with the flamboyant wedding planner?

"Well, well," Lilith's voice cut through his thoughts, sharp as a blade. "Looks like your boy is quite comfortable with Anthony, isn't he?"

Lucifer's stomach twisted.

“What are you talking about?” The blonde man asked, trying not to sound defensive, but wondering what his shrewd ex-wife had seen.

“Oh, nothing. It's just…interesting.” Lilith's lips curved into a knowing smile. ”I just had the impression that your boy wasn’t the biggest fan of physical contact.”

"Alastor isn't my 'boy,'" Lucifer's spine stiffened, his earlier relaxation evaporating like mist. "He's my boyfriend."

"Oh? My mistake. I just assumed, given the…age difference." Lilith's eyebrow arched delicately.

"Our relationship is none of your business," Lucifer's cheeks burned, fighting to keep his voice steady. "Alastor and I are partners. Equals."

A throaty chuckle escaped Lilith's painted lips, a warning that Lucifer missed.

"Of course, darling. I meant no offense." Her eyes glittered with amusement. "Though, I must say, I'm surprised. Charlie mentioned Alastor's little quirk about not wanting to be touched by anyone but you. Yet there he is, perfectly at ease with Anthony's hands all over him."

Lucifer's gaze snapped back to Alastor and Anthony.

Only to see the worst thing he could—that his ex was right.

Anthony leaned his elbow on Alastor’s shoulder, and Lucifer’s boyfriend did none of the polite little gestures he’d mastered to brush off the touch. The casual intimacy between them suddenly felt like a knife twisting in his gut.

He was…overreacting. Surely he was.

Lucifer swallowed hard, struggling to reconcile what he was seeing with what he thought he knew.

"They're friends. Colleagues." he managed, hating how uncertain he sounded.

"Mmm," Lilith hummed, her tone dripping with false sympathy. "Of course. How silly of me to imply otherwise."

Lucifer was grasping for a retort, anything to regain his footing. But Lilith's words had found their mark, burrowing deep into his insecurities. He forced a brittle smile, desperately trying to maintain his composure.

Was he reading too much into this? Or had he been blind to something obvious? The seed of doubt Lilith had planted took root, feeding on his deepest fears.

Lucifer's fingers trembled as he straightened his turtleneck, desperately needing something to do with his hands.

He took a deep breath, deliberately taking a step to the side. A conscious effort to put distance between himself and Lilith's venomous words.

But Lilith's silky voice drifted after him, a parting shot that lodged in his chest like an arrow.

"Oh, Lucifer darling, don't fret so. It's natural for someone your age to worry about keeping up with the young ones."

"If you'll excuse me," he said stiffly, "I should check on the…food situation."

The room suddenly felt too warm, too crowded. Lucifer tugged at his collar, fighting the urge to look back at his ex-wife.

Stop it. He was being ridiculous.

But as he resumed walking to the kitchen, slower now, heavier, Lucifer couldn't shake the gnawing doubt. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in a window—the lines around his eyes, the slight softness to his jaw.

When had he started looking so…worn?

His eyes sought out Alastor again, vibrant and laughing with Anthony.

Young. Beautiful.

Lucifer darted into the sanctuary of his immaculate kitchen, swallowing hard, feeling every one of his years weighing on him.

"What am I doing?" he murmured to his distorted reflection in the stainless steel. "What could he possibly see in me?"

The happiness of his daughter and the wedding shower seemed muffled, distant. As his pulse thrummed in his ears and insecurity took root in his chest.

Threating to pull Lucifer under.

❣️Ao3❣️Original Fics (1 Year Free)❣️Tumblr❣️

[darcydarlingdabbles]

At Valentine’s Day~ Part 6 ~ So Sweet

RadioApple🩷Human Au/Age Gap🩷Top!Dom!Alastor

🩷Divorced Dad!Lucifer🩷Explicit

Sugar and spice, a taste to adore, A wedding cake battle? Let’s try twelve more. A bite here, a bite there, but love is the best— The sweetest thing is what comes next.

🩷🩷🩷

❣️Ao3❣️Original Fics (1 Year Free)❣️Tumblr❣️

The tinkling of the bell above Rosie's Bakery door sent a shiver of excitement through Charlie as she burst inside, pulling Vaggie by the hand.

The warm, sugary aroma enveloped them instantly, promising delectable treats to come.

"Oh my gosh, Vaggie! Can you believe we're finally here?" Charlie's eyes sparkled as she took in the pastel-hued interior, display cases brimming with elaborately frosted confections.

"I can hardly contain my enthusiasm, considering you've only mentioned it about a hundred times since we woke up." Vaggie's lips quirked in an indulgent smile.

Charlie stuck out her tongue playfully. "Don't pretend you're not excited too. We get to taste twelve different flavors!"

"Twelve?" Vaggie's eyebrows shot up. "Hon, are you sure that's necessary? We'll be in a sugar coma before we even choose one."

"But that's half the fun!" Charlie twirled, her blonde hair fanning out. "Besides, how else will we know which one is absolutely perfect?"

"Whatever you say, sugar rush." Vaggie chuckled, shaking her head.

The bell chimed again, and Charlie's face lit up as she saw her father enter, Alastor close behind. Her heart warmed at the subtle way their hands brushed, the quick glance they shared speaking volumes.

"Dad! Alastor! Over here!" She waved enthusiastically.

Lucifer's smile was excited as he approached, though Charlie noted the slight nervousness in his posture.

Charlie knew he still wasn’t up to his usual social butterfly self—but he’d been getting better. She’d seen it.

"Hey sweetie. Are you ready for this sugar extravaganza?"

"You bet!" Charlie beamed, then hesitated. There was something she needed to address. "Um, Alastor? Can I talk to you for a sec?"

She led him a few steps away, lowering her voice.

"I, uh, forgot to mention earlier. Mom's going to be joining us, too."

Alastor's expression remained neutral, but Charlie caught the slight tightening around his eyes. He quickly grabbed her shoulder, pulling her further away from the others.

“Charlie, what were you thinking?”

She hurried on, "I know it might be a little awkward, but honestly I talked to her, and she apologized for what happened at Christmas—”

“She didn’t apologize to your father for what she did at Christmas.” Alastor said, and though he was forcing his voice to be calm, Charlie saw the way his nostrils flared.

“Al, please.” The blonde took on a pleading tone, clasping her hands around one of his. “She’s my mother. This means a lot to me.”

Alastor's smile remained fixed, but his eyes narrowed imperceptibly. "While I always…appreciate your sentimentality, Charlie," he said, his voice a low growl. "I'm afraid I don't share your faith in Lilith's civility."

Charlie's brow furrowed. "I know Mom can be…difficult," she admitted, fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. "But she promised to behave. Can't we give her a chance?"

“My dear, leopards rarely change their spots.” Alastor chuckled, the sound rich with dark amusement. “And they will promise everything, until they get their teeth into your neck.”

"Please, Alastor. It would mean so much to me if you could just…buffer things a bit? Vaggie and I will keep Mom busy. I promise." Charlie's shoulders slumped.

“Very well. I'll do my best to keep the peace.” Alastor's gaze softened as he looked at Charlie's pleading expression. Despite his misgivings, he found himself nodding. “But make no mistake, I will readily throw her in front of a bus to protect your father’s fragile peace of mind.”

Charlie cringed at that particular image, but before she could decide whether she was worried or proud of Alastor—Anthony burst through the door in a whirlwind of designer cologne and apologies.

"Sorry I'm late, darlings! But I come bearing gifts—or at least, good news. I've snagged the perfect spot for the double trouble bachelorette party!"

Anthony's eyes swept the room, landing on Lucifer with a mischievous glint that made Alastor’s stomach want to drop.

"Well, well, if it isn't Daddy Morningstar himself," the wedding planner purred, his voice dripping with innuendo. He sauntered closer, hips swaying with exaggerated grace. "Looking absolutely delectable today. I bet you taste even sweeter than these cakes."

He cast a sidelong glance at Alastor, winking conspiratorially.

"Ah, yes, hello. I'm Lucifer, Charlie's father. It's, um, nice to meet you." Lucifer shifted uncomfortably, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. He cleared his throat, tugging at the collar of his cozy sweater.

“Oh, we met the other day,” Anthony grinned, taking far too long with the handshake. “Gotta say the duckie pjs were a good look—we didn’t get to talk much before Alastor swept ya off to the bedroom.”

“Uh, oh, right, you were at the house.” Lucifer’s golden eyes darted to Alastor, silently pleading for rescue.

Alastor’s smile was all sharp edges and teeth as he slid smoothly between them.

"Anthony, dear," the brunette drawled, his voice honey-sweet with underlying venom. "A word, if you please."

He gripped Anthony's arm, steering him towards a display of elaborately tiered wedding cakes. The flamboyant planner stumbled slightly, caught off guard by Alastor's forceful guidance.

"Now, now, Smiles," Anthony chuckled nervously, "no need to get handsy. Unless you're offering, of course."

“Mind your manners,” Alastor's grip tightened, his smile never wavering.

"C’mon, I swore I wouldn’t breathe a word about our…history," Anthony hissed, his words tumbling out in a rush. “My lips are sealed tighter than—”

Alastor held up a hand, cutting him off. "That's not why I pulled you aside." He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, velvety murmur. "We have a more pressing concern. Lilith."

"Charlie's mother? What about her?" Anthony's eyebrows shot up.

“As I’m sure you know, the divorce was nasty,” Alastor's gaze darted briefly to Lucifer, who was engaged in conversation with Charlie. "She has a…particular talent for slipping barbs into seemingly innocuous comments. I fear she may try to undermine Lucifer's confidence."

A flicker of understanding passed over Anthony's face, followed by a scowl.

"That vile bitch," he whispered furiously. His eyes lit up with sudden impishness. "Want me to accidentally spill something on her? I've got a mean right hook with a champagne flute."

Alastor couldn't help but chuckle, shaking his head.

"Tempting, but no. I need you to run interference. Keep her away from Lucifer as much as possible, without arousing Charlie's suspicions."

“Consider it done” Anthony nodded, his expression unexpectedly serious. “I've got your back—and his.”

As they rejoined the group, Alastor felt a surprising warmth in his chest as he slipped an arm around Lucifer’s back. Despite their frequent bickering, he knew he could trust Anthony implicitly.

It was a comforting thought as he braced himself for Lilith's imminent arrival.

The bell above the bakery door chimed, its cheerful tinkle at odds with the sudden tension that gripped the room.

Lilith glided in, her presence commanding attention like a queen entering her court. Alastor felt Lucifer stiffen beside him, the other man's breath catching audibly.

"Mother!" Charlie's voice rang out, a mix of excitement and nervousness. "You made it!"

Lilith's ruby-red lips curved into a polite smile as her gaze swept over the group. "Of course, honey. I wouldn't miss this for the world."

Alastor's fingers twitched, resisting the urge to reach for Lucifer's hand. Instead, he subtly shifted his stance, angling his body to create a barrier between his partner and the ex-wife.

"Lilith," he greeted, his voice smooth as silk but with an underlying edge. "How lovely to see you."

Her eyes met his. A flash of something—amusement? challenge?—sparking in their depths.

"Alastor. Always a pleasure."

As introductions were made, Alastor kept his focus split between Lilith's movements and Lucifer's reactions.

He could practically feel the waves of anxiety radiating off his partner, and it took every ounce of self-control not to wrap Lucifer in his arms right then and there.

"Well!" Charlie clapped her hands, breaking the tension. "We should get started. I can't wait to try all these amazing flavors!"

The group shuffled towards the tasting area, a cozy nook adorned with fairy lights and dotted with plates of exquisitely decorated cakes.

Alastor guided Lucifer with a gentle hand on the small of his back, leaning in to whisper, "Breathe, my dear. I'm right here."

"Thank you." Lucifer's responding smile was shaky but genuine.

As they settled around the table, Charlie's enthusiasm bubbled over.

"Okay, everyone! We've got twelve flavors to try. I say we start with the classics and work our way to the more adventurous ones. What do you think?"

"Whatever you want, hon. Just remember, we can't actually have twelve tiers on our cake." Vaggie laughed, squeezing her fiancée's hand.

"Says who?" Charlie retorted with a grin. "It's our wedding. We make the rules!"

The banter continued, eliciting chuckles from around the table. Alastor found himself relaxing slightly, though he remained hyper-aware of Lilith's presence across from them. He noticed Anthony deftly maneuvering to keep her attention, regaling her with outrageous stories from his wedding planning adventures.

“She hasn't changed a bit, has she?” Lucifer leaned into Alastor's side, his voice low. "Still takes all the oxygen out of the room."

Alastor turned, studying Lucifer's face. There was a wistfulness there, tinged with old pain.

"Perhaps," he murmured back. "But your light still outshines hers—you just need to remember how to let it."

A flush crept up Lucifer's neck, his golden eyes widening as he leaned into Alastor’s side.

The brunette felt a surge of protectiveness, blended with a vehement desire to prove to this man just how extraordinary he truly was.

The first slice of cake arrived, a classic vanilla with buttercream frosting. Charlie's eyes lit up as she took a delicate bite, her expression melting into pure bliss.

"Oh my goodness," she moaned, "it's like a cloud of sweetness! Vaggie, you have to try this!"

Vaggie chuckled, leaning in to accept the forkful Charlie offered. Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Wow, that is good."

The vanilla was followed by a rich chocolate, its dark, velvety texture coating their tongues. Charlie closed her eyes, savoring each morsel.

"If this whole wedding planning gig doesn't work out, I might just open a bakery myself. I mean, how hard can it be? Throw some flour, sugar, and eggs together, and voila!" Anthony piped up, his voice theatrical.

"I'm sure it's a bit more complicated than that, Anthony." Lilith's eyebrow arched, her gaze sharp.

"Oh, absolutely," he agreed, undeterred. "I'd need a catchy name. How about 'Angel’s Sweetest Sins'? Or maybe 'Cake It Til You Make It'?"

Charlie giggled, the tension easing as Anthony's wit worked its magic.

Vaggie rolled her eyes, but Alastor noticed the small smile tugging at her lips.

As they sampled a zesty lemon cake, its bright flavor dancing on their taste buds, Alastor found himself genuinely enjoying the moment. He glanced at Lucifer, noting the way his eyes crinkled with mirth at Anthony's antics.

For now, at least, the shadow of Lilith's presence seemed to have receded.

Alastor reached for a slice of rich red velvet cake, its deep crimson hue catching his eye. He turned to Lucifer, a mischievous glint in his hazel eyes.

"Darling, you simply must try this one," he lifted the fork to Lucifer's lips.

Lucifer hesitated for a moment, his golden eyes darting nervously around the curve of the tasting booth, before settling back on Alastor. The younger man's reassuring smile seemed to calm him, and he leaned forward, parting his lips.

As Lucifer's mouth closed around the fork, Alastor felt a surge of warmth course through him.

"Exquisite, isn't it?" Alastor murmured, his voice low and rich.

"It's…heavenly," Lucifer nodded, a faint blush coloring his cheeks.

Across the table, Charlie beamed . She turned to Vaggie, scooping up a forkful of luscious strawberry cake.

“Your turn,” she said playfully.

Vaggie eyed the pink confection skeptically.

"Oh, come on," Charlie coaxed, her eyes twinkling. "Just one bite. For me?"

Unable to resist Charlie's infectious enthusiasm, Vaggie relented with an exaggerated sigh. "Fine, but just one—"

Charlie seized the opportunity, popping the fork into Vaggie's open mouth.

"Well?" Charlie asked, giggling at Vaggie's expression.

Vaggie swallowed, a slow smile spreading across her face. "Okay, I'll admit it. That was pretty good."

"I knew you'd like it!"

As Alastor watched the tender moment between the two women, he felt Lucifer's hand brush against his under the table. He intertwined their fingers, giving a gentle squeeze. In

Lilith's silence cut through the warm atmosphere like a blade of ice.

Her piercing gaze flicked between Lucifer and Alastor, though her ruby-red lips were curved in a polite smile.

Alastor felt Lucifer tense beside him, his fingers tightening almost imperceptibly around his own. Without breaking his easy grin, Alastor shifted slightly, angling his body to create a subtle barrier.

"Oh, Lilith," Alastor nodded, his voice smooth as honey, "you've barely touched your cake. Surely you must have an opinion?"

"Oh, I'm simply savoring the…atmosphere," Lilith's gaze snapped to Alastor, her composure never faltering.

Lucifer swallowed hard, his free hand fidgeting with the hem of his sweater. Alastor could practically feel the waves of anxiety radiating from him.

"Well," Alastor said, deftly changing the subject, "I believe we have a few more flavors to sample. Charlie, dear, what's next?"

As Charlie launched into an enthusiastic description of the remaining cakes, Alastor leaned closer to Lucifer, his breath warm against the shorter man's ear.

"You're doing wonderfully," he murmured. "Just focus on the joy. Nothing else matters right now."

Lucifer exhaled shakily, some of the tension leaving his shoulders. "Thank you," he whispered back, gratitude shining in his golden eyes.

Alastor's protective instincts surged as he caught Lilith watching their exchange, her eyebrow arched in silent judgment.

He met her gaze evenly, his smile never wavering. The message was clear: Lucifer was under his care now, and he would not allow anyone—not even the formidable ex-wife—to make him feel small again.

Anthony's boisterous laughter cut through the tension like a knife through butter. "

Oh, damn, you haven't lived until you've tried this champagne and strawberry concoction!" He dramatically waved a forkful of pale pink cake. "It's like a bubbly kiss from a very naughty angel."

Lucifer couldn't help but chuckle, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he reached for a taste.

<3<3<3

As the group sampled the effervescent creation, Anthony regaled them with increasingly outrageous tales of wedding disasters he'd narrowly averted.

As the laughter died down and the last crumbs were savored, Lilith set her fork aside with a delicate clink. Her piercing gaze swept over Alastor and Lucifer, a small smile playing at the corners of her crimson lips.

"It's so heartwarming to see such... closeness," she said, her voice like silk over steel. "Alastor, dear, you seem to have quite the nurturing touch. It reminds me of how attentive you used to be, Lucifer."

Lucifer froze, his eyes wide as he struggled to find words.

The air in the room suddenly felt thick, charged.

Alastor's eyes glinted behind his glasses, his smile sharpening as he met Lilith's gaze.

"A little attentiveness goes a long way," he drawled, his voice a smooth, controlled cadence. He turned to Lucifer, his expression softening imperceptibly. "Isn't that right? Your homemade cinnamon rolls could put this bakery out of business."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Lucifer's cheeks flushed, but his posture straightened slightly.

Charlie, sensing the undercurrent of tension, jumped in.

"Dad's baking is the best! Remember that triple-layer chocolate cake he made for my sixteenth birthday, Mom?"

As the conversation shifted back to safer territory, Alastor felt Lucifer relax beside him. He gave the blonde's hand a subtle, reassuring squeeze under the table.

Lilith, however, wasn't quite finished. Her eyes never left the pair, tracking their subtle interactions with laser focus.

As Anthony launched into another amusing anecdote, she leaned back in her chair, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.

Alastor caught her gaze, a silent challenge passing between them. Lilith had pieced something together—they weren’t trying to hide it anymore, but the glint in her eye suggested she wasn't about to let it go easily.

As the group prepared to leave, Lilith's voice cut through the chatter.

"This has been lovely," she said, her tone deceptively light. "We simply must do this again soon. Perhaps next time, Alastor, you could host. I'd love to see how you've…settled in."

Alastor felt Lucifer tense beside him, and he instinctively placed a steadying hand on the small of his back. "Why, that sounds delightful," he replied, his smile never wavering. "I'll have to consult my schedule, of course. e."

As they made their way out of the bakery, Alastor couldn't shake the feeling of Lilith's eyes boring into his back. He glanced at Lucifer, noting the worried crease between his brows.

The bell above the bakery door chimed as they stepped out into the crisp afternoon air.

Alastor inhaled deeply, glad to be clearing his senses of the lingering sweetness. He watched as Charlie and Vaggie practically skipped ahead, their laughter a welcome counterpoint to the tension thrumming beneath the surface.

"Well, wasn't that just peachy?" Anthony quipped, falling into step beside Alastor. "Nothing like a family reunion to really sweeten the deal, eh?"

Alastor chuckled, his eyes darting to where Lucifer walked, shoulders slightly hunched.

"Indeed," he murmured. "Though I daresay some flavors are an acquired taste."

As the group meandered down the sidewalk, Alastor's mind raced ahead.

How much had Lilith truly discerned?

And, more importantly, what did she intend to do with that knowledge?

He'd have to tread carefully, for Lucifer's sake as well as his own.

"You did marvelously in there, my dear," Alastor said softly, closing the distance between himself and Lucifer. "I hope the experience wasn't too… overwhelming."

"It was manageable," Lucifer's lips quirked in a half-smile. "Thanks to you."

The warmth in Lucifer's golden eyes sent a thrill through Alastor. He longed to pull him close, to reassure him with more than just words.

But now wasn't the time or place for such displays.

"So, what's next on the agenda?" Charlie called back, her excitement palpable. "We still have so much to plan!"

Alastor grinned, grateful for the distraction. "Why don't we discuss it over dinner?" he suggested. "I believe we promised a certain someone a home-cooked meal."

Notes:

I haven't decided on their cake flavor...let me know what you think XD

❣️Ao3❣️Original Fics (1 Year Free)❣️Tumblr❣️

[darcydarlingdabbles]

At Valentine’s Day~ Part 4 ~ Sassy AF

RadioApple🩷Human Au/Age Gap🩷Top!Dom!Alastor

🩷Divorced Dad!Lucifer🩷Explicit

Angel arrives, all glitter and flair, A planner so extra, but handle with care. But history lingers, a past yet untold— Some secrets stay buried, some truths will unfold.

🩷🩷🩷

❣️Ao3❣️Original Fics (1 Year Free)❣️Tumblr❣️

The door swung open, releasing a gust of cool air that tickled Alastor's skin as he ushered Rosie.

"Alastor, darling," Rosie purred, her crimson lips curving into a warm smile as she air-kissed his cheeks. "It's been far too long."

Her familiar perfume—notes of jasmine and vanilla—stirred memories Alastor preferred to keep buried. He returned her greeting with equal, but formal, enthusiasm. "Indeed, it has, my dear. I trust you're well?"

Alastor gestured, leading the elegant woman towards the kitchen, where Vaggie and Charlie are pouring over wedding plans on the table by the picture windows overlooking the backyard.

"Splendidly so," Rosie replied, her gaze sweeping the gleaming and polished foyer.

"Yes, allow me to show you the work space, I’m sure you’ll be pleasantly surprised by the accommodations.”

Alastor's chest tightened at the thought of Lucifer’s pride in this kitchen. He’d probably want to show it off…but the man wa upstairs and struggling to get any sleep.

He pushed the concern aside, focusing on the task at hand.

"Of course, though I'd hoped to pay my respects to our gracious host. Is Mr. Morningstar about?" Rosie's perfectly manicured brow arched.

"I'm afraid he's resting at the moment. The preparations have been rather taxing." Alastor said, forcing his tone to stay nice and light.

It wasn't entirely a lie, but he wasn’t about to air his partner’s struggles in front of the man’s daughter and future daughter-in-law.

"I see. Well, we mustn't disturb him then." Rosie's knowing look spoke volumes.

Rosie's eyes widened as she took in the shimmering expanse of the kitchen. Her perfectly manicured hand trailed along the smooth marble countertop, a soft gasp escaping her lips.

"My word, this is simply exquisite. The attention to detail is remarkable."

"Lucifer has quite the passion for culinary arts. He insisted on every element being just so." Alastor nodded, a hint of pride coloring his voice.

The air was rich with the lingering scent of freshly baked bread, mingling with the subtle aroma of lemon-scented cleaner.

Rosie's gaze swept over the professional-grade appliances, her eyes lingering on the impressive copper pots hanging overhead.

"I can almost taste the love that's been poured into this space," Rosie mused, her fingers ghosting over the intricate tilework of the backsplash. "It's a shame we won't be able to utilize it fully for the reception."

"Indeed. However, the grounds will serve admirably for the celebration."

Alastor felt a twinge in his chest, thinking of how much joy Lucifer derived from creating in this very room.

As Alastor led Rosie through the pantry, her arm delicately looped through his, he couldn't help but marvel at the meticulousness of Lucifer's organization.

Rows of neatly labeled jars lined the shelves, their contents a rainbow of preserved fruits, vegetables, and spices. The air was thick with the mingled scents of dried herbs and aged wood.

"And here," Alastor said, gesturing to a heavy oak door at the far end of the pantry, "is the entrance to the wine cellar. Lucifer's pride and joy, I must say. The collection is quite impressive."

Rosie's eyes lit up with interest. "Oh, how delightful! I do hope we'll have a chance to sample some of those vintages during the festivities."

As they emerged from the pantry, Alastor guided Rosie towards the kitchen table where Charlie and Vaggie sat surrounded by a sea of papers, fabric swatches, and flower samples.

The afternoon sun streamed through the picture window, casting a warm glow over the scene and illuminating the lush backyard beyond.

Charlie, her golden hair catching the light, looked up with a bright smile.

Vaggie, however, narrowed her eyes slightly at the sight of Rosie's arm linked with Alastor's.

"Ladies," Alastor announced with a flourish, "allow me to introduce my dear friend, Rosie. She’s so graciously agreed to cater for you despite the time crunch."

Charlie jumped up, her enthusiasm palpable. "Oh, it's so wonderful to meet you! We've heard so much about your food—Alastor just gushes about it."

"Welcome," Vaggie rose more slowly, her expression guarded. "The pleasure is all mine, my dear. And may I say, you make a stunning bride-to-be." Rosie beamed, releasing Alastor's arm to clasp Charlie's hands warmly. “As do you, my dear.”

As Rosie turned to greet Vaggie, Alastor's gaze drifted to the chaos on the table.

Amidst the clutter, he spotted a sketch of an elaborate wedding cake, its tiers adorned with delicate sugar flowers. Next to it lay a color palette of soft pastels and rich jewel tones, fabric samples in various shades of red and gold pinned to the swatches.

"I see you've been quite busy," Alastor observed, picking up a list of potential menu items. "Oysters Rockefeller, beef Wellington, chocolate soufflé…My, my, you certainly have exquisite taste."

"We want everything to be perfect," Charlie blushed, her eyes shining with excitement.

"And perfect it shall be," Rosie assured them, her voice smooth as silk. "Now, why don't you show me what you've planned so far?”

Charlie's eyes lit up like fireworks, her hands fluttering excitedly as she began to unfurl her vision for the wedding.

"Oh, where to begin! We've chosen a theme that's a blend of vintage glamour and ethereal romance. Picture this: cascading crystal chandeliers draped with delicate wisteria vines, tables adorned with antique silver candelabras and lush centerpieces of peonies, garden roses, and dahlias in shades of blush and ivory."

As Charlie spoke, her fingers danced over the mood board, pointing out swatches of shimmering fabrics and sketches of elaborate floral arrangements.

"For the ceremony, we're envisioning an arch of blooming roses with petals gently falling as we exchange our vows. And the aisle! Oh, the aisle will be lined with hundreds of candles in mercury glass holders, creating this magical, flickering pathway."

"Absolutely enchanting, my dear. A fairytale come to life."

Rosie nodded approvingly, her crimson lips curving into a smile as she took in every detail.

As Charlie continued her animated description, Vaggie's gaze remained fixed on Alastor, her eyes narrowed slightly, and the corners of her mouth tightened.

"For the main course," Charlie continued, oblivious to the tension, "we're dreaming of a choice between a herb-crusted rack of lamb with rosemary jus, or a pan-seared sea bass with fennel purée and citrus beurre blanc. And for dessert—well, obviously that’s our wedding cake!"

Suddenly, Vaggie's voice cut through Charlie's enthusiasm, her tone sharp and inquisitive. "You own some of the best restaurants in the city, how do you know Alastor?"

Alastor felt his heart rate quicken, though his smile remained fixed in place, not a single crack in his composed exterior, searching for an explanation that wouldn't raise more questions.

But before he could formulate a response, Rosie stepped in smoothly, her lie as sweet as honey.

"Oh, sweetie, Alastor and I go way back. He used to play the most divine jazz piano in my downtown lounge, Le Mensonge Blanc. His performances were always the highlight of the evening.”

"“Always happy to help fill the tables.” Alastor said with forced brightness. “Speaking of which, we should discuss the table arrangements. Efficiency is key with so many guests.”

"Quite right," Rosie agreed, smoothly transitioning. She pulled out a small notebook, her pen poised. "I was thinking we could arrange the tables in a horseshoe formation. It would allow for easy movement to the dance floor and for my waitstaff to maneuver."

<3<3<3

As they delved deeper into logistics, Alastor found his thoughts drifting once more to Lucifer.

He hoped this whirlwind of activity wouldn't prove too overwhelming for his partner. The last thing he wanted was for Lucifer to feel pressured or out of place in his own home.

"Alastor?" Rosie's voice cut through his musings. "What do you think about placing the gift table near the entrance?"

He blinked, refocusing on the conversation at hand. "Yes, that seems sensible. We'll want to make it easily accessible for guests arriving."

The shrill chime of the doorbell sliced through their conversation, causing Alastor to start. His brow furrowed as he glanced at his watch.

"That's peculiar. Charlie, were we expecting the florist today?"

The younger Morningstar’s blonde curls bounced as she shook her head, a look of uncertainty clouding her usually sunny features. "I don't think so. Maybe they're early?"

Alastor's lips thinned into a tight smile. "Well, there's only one way to find out, isn't there?" He straightened his vest and made his way to the foyer, his polished shoes clicking against the hardwood floors.

As he reached for the ornate door handle, a strange sense of foreboding settled in his stomach. Shaking it off, he swung the door open with practiced grace.

Time seemed to slow as Alastor's gaze fell upon the figure standing on the doorstep.

His breath caught in his throat, and he felt the color drain from his face.

His lithe frame was impossibly tall, accentuated by skin-tight white slacks that clung to every curve and angle of his long legs. A loose-fitting pink shirt hung from his shoulders, the fabric shimmering slightly in the afternoon sun. It was unbuttoned dangerously low, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of smooth, pale chest.

A black silk scarf was draped artfully around his slender neck, adding a touch of sophistication to his flamboyant ensemble.

But it was the man’s face that truly captivated.

Framed by tousled white-blonde hair that seemed to glow like a halo, his features were a perfect blend of masculine and feminine. High cheekbones, full pink lips, and freckles dotted under his mismatched eyes.

Those had been his signature. One the rich brown of melted chocolate and the other piercing, icy blue.

Both sparkling with recognition—and sudden mischief as they locked on Alastor’s stunned face.

And then there were his eyes—those unforgettable, mismatched eyes. One a warm, rich brown like melted chocolate; the other a piercing, icy blue. They sparkled with mischief and something deeper, more complex, as they locked onto Alastor's stunned face.

A coy smile played on his lips as he cocked one hip, "Hey there, Smiles," he purred . "Miss me?"

Alastor felt as if the ground had suddenly shifted beneath his feet. The carefully constructed world he had built here, with Lucifer and Charlie, seemed to tilt on its axis.

"Angel," Alastor managed, his usual eloquence deserting him. "What an…unexpected surprise."

Angel's mismatched eyes twinkled with amusement. "Aw, c'mon now. Is that any way to greet an old friend?" He leaned in, his scent—a heady mix of strawberries and something decidedly more masculine—enveloping Alastor. "Especially one who's here to make sure this little shindig goes off without a hitch."

How did Angel know about the wedding? And more importantly, what game was he playing by showing up here, now?

As he struggled to formulate a response, he heard footsteps approaching from behind.

"Alastor, darling, who's at the door?" Rosie's voice floated towards them, followed closely by Charlie's excited chatter.

A blur of blonde hair and vibrant energy burst into the foyer, nearly colliding with the man that Alastor hadn’t let past his threshold.

Charlie's eyes lit up with unbridled excitement as she threw her arms around the tall man, enveloping him in an enthusiastic embrace.

"Anthony! You're here!" Charlie squealed, bouncing on her toes. She pulled back, beaming up at him. "Everyone, this is our amazing wedding planner!"

Alastor's stomach twisted.

He watched, frozen, as Charlie turned to address the room, her hands gesticulating wildly. "He's absolutely brilliant, and just the right amount of chaotic. In the best way, of course!"

"Aw, sugar, you're making me blush." Anthony chuckled, draping an arm casually over Charlie's shoulders. His gaze slid to Alastor. "Though I'm sure some folks here already know just how good I am at having a good time."'

“I didn’t peg you as a wedding planner, Anthony.” Alastor cleared his throat, willing his face to remain neutral and his composure to return.

"Oh, you ain’t pegged me at all," Anthony teased, sauntering closer. He reached out, adjusting Alastor's lapel with a familiarity that made Alastor's skin prickle. "Wedding planning is one of my many, many talents."

From the corner of his eye, Alastor noticed Vaggie watching their interaction intently, her brow furrowed.

He cleared his throat, taking a deliberate step back. "Thank you, Anthony. Your…expertise will undoubtedly be valuable for the wedding preparations."

Charlie's eyes darted between Alastor and Anthony. "You two know each other?"

Alastor felt his chest tighten, acutely aware of all eyes on him. He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "We... worked together. At one of Rosie’s events downtown. That’s all."

“Oh yeah we know how to pull off an event,” Anthony let out a laugh, shaking his head. “Don’t we?”

Alastor suppressed a shudder, forcing a tight smile. He could feel Vaggie's sharp gaze boring into him, no doubt picking up on the tension crackling between them.

"Oh my, what a stunner!" Before Alastor could formulate a response, Anthony's attention shifted, reaching for Vaggie's hand. "May I see that gorgeous ring of yours, darlin’?"

Vaggie hesitated, her usual stiff demeanor evident. But as Anthony admired the ring, his genuine enthusiasm seemed to soften her.

"It's exquisite," he gushed. "Charlie, you have impeccable taste!"

Alastor watched as Vaggie's lips curved into a small smile, her guard lowering ever so slightly. He marveled at Anthony's ability to charm even the most reticent individuals. It was a talent that had served him well in their past endeavors.

As the conversation flowed around him, Alastor found himself retreating inward.

How had his carefully constructed world suddenly become so precarious?

He tugged at his collar, feeling stifled. Anthony's presence was a stark reminder of a life he'd left behind, one he'd prefer to keep firmly in the past.

"You alright there, Smiles?" Anthony's voice cut through his thoughts. "Looking a bit flushed. Need me to loosen your tie for you?"

The suggestive undertone was unmistakable.

"Perhaps we should continue on to our tour of the grounds? There's much to discuss regarding the outdoor arrangements."

As they stepped into the grand foyer, Alastor felt Anthony's presence like a shadow at his back.

The gleaming marble floors echoed their footsteps, the sound bouncing off the high, vaulted ceilings adorned with intricate crown molding.

Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the space, their light dancing off the gilded frames of priceless artworks lining the walls.

"Now this is what I call swanky," Anthony whistled, his mismatched eyes roving over every opulent detail. "Makes some of those high-roller joints in Vegas look like cheap motels."

Charlie beamed with pride, her fingers trailing along the polished banister of the sweeping staircase. "Wait until you see the garden! It's absolutely breathtaking."

They moved through the house, each room more lavish than the last.

The library, with its floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and plush leather armchairs.

The formal dining room, dominated by a massive mahogany table that could easily seat twenty.

The conservatory, a glass-enclosed oasis filled with plants and a tinkling fountain.

"This place is somethin' else, toots. Your old man must be loaded." Anthony took it all in with an appraising eye, occasionally jotting notes in a small, bedazzled notebook.

“Anthony.” Alastor hissed.

"Oh, yes," Charlie nodded, a hint of bashfulness creeping into her voice. "My…parents both came from old money, but they both try to do good with it. A lot of charity work."

“Hey, I’m not hatin’ what I got to work with.” The bleach blonde grinned.

As they approached the French doors leading to the back terrace, Anthony cocked an eyebrow at Alastor.

"So, this is daddy dearest's place, huh? You seem pretty at home here, Smiles. Alastor can probably answer any questions I've got, right Charlie?"

"Oh, absolutely!” Charlie nodded enthusiastically. “Al practically lives here. He knows every nook and cranny."

"Well, well. Always did have a taste for the finer things in life, didn't ya?" A sly grin spread across Anthony's face.

“Perhaps we should focus on the outdoor arrangements, shall we? The gardens are starting to come in for an early spring.” Alastor cleared his throat, his smile tightening almost imperceptibly.

They stepped out onto the terrace, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the manicured lawn. A riot of color greeted them—meticulously tended flower beds bursting with roses, lilies, and delphiniums.

The air was heavy with the heady scent of jasmine climbing up ornate trellises.

"Now this," Anthony breathed, "this is a fuckin' fairytale."

A stone path wound its way through the gardens, leading to weeping willows dipped their graceful branches into the water, all framing the still fairy-light strewn gazebo.

But Alastor was still finding himself on edge.

Every innocuous comment from Anthony seemed loaded with hidden meaning, every glance a challenge. He caught Charlie's curious looks and Vaggie's narrowed eyes, and knew he was failing to hide his discomfort.

Suddenly, when the girls were occupied with the gazebo, Anthony draped himself dramatically over Alastor's shoulder. "Say, Alastor," he whispered, "you still a sucker for blondes?"

Alastor stiffened.

“Yes, as a matter of fact. With a practiced smirk, he brushed Anthony’s arm off of his shoulder, "Natural ones."

Anthony gasped in mock outrage, clutching his chest. "Me, fake? I'm wounded!" Then he grinned, eyes glinting. "Good to see you've still got your bite, sir."

The honorific sent a jolt through Alastor. He swallowed hard, acutely aware of Charlie and Vaggie's presence. How much longer could he keep this charade up? And more importantly, what would Lucifer think if he knew the truth about his past?

As they stepped into the sunlit garden where the dance floor would be, a gnarled tree branch blocked their path.

"Well, that's inconvenient. We can't have guests tripping over this during the reception." Charlie huffed, hands on her hips.

"It looks heavy. Maybe we should move it?" Vaggie eyed the thick limb warily, before turning to Anthony.

"Oh honey, I'm more of a passive type myself. Unless…" He cast a sidelong glance at Alastor. "Someone wants to take charge?"

"Allow me," Alastor felt acutely aware of Anthony's suggestive tone. With a tight smile, he began rolling up his sleeves.

As Alastor grasped the branch, muscles tensing with effort, he caught Anthony's gaze fixed on his wrist. With a grunt, Alastor heaved the limb aside, hyperaware of Anthony's widening eyes.

The black metal bracelet glinted in the sunlight, his Christmas gift from Lucifer.

"What do we have here?," Anthony murmured, stepping closer as the girls walked on. "You let someone key you?" His voice dropped to a whisper, tinged with disbelief. "A sub?"

Alastor turned, fixing Anthony with a look that could freeze hell itself.

He drew himself up to his full height, chin lifted in silent challenge. His gaze bore into Anthony, willing him to understand the gravity of the situation.

To Alastor's relief, comprehension dawned in Anthony's eyes.

The wedding planner's usual smirk faltered, replaced by something almost like respect. With a slight nod, Anthony stepped back, the moment passing as quickly as it had come.

"Right then," Alastor said, his voice betraying none of his turmoil. "Shall we continue the tour?"

<3<3<3

Back inside Morningstar Mansion as they ascended the grand staircase, the plush carpet muffling their footsteps, Alastor felt Anthony's presence like a persistent itch he couldn't scratch away.

The wedding planner's voice followed him up the split staircase up to the gallery that overlooked the foyer, just loud enough for Alastor to hear.

"Remember that time in New Orleans, darling? The way you commanded the stage…"

Alastor's jaw clenched, his fingers curling tightly around the polished banister.

"Anthony," he warned under his breath, eyes darting to ensure Charlie and Vaggie were out of earshot.

Ahead, Charlie's excited voice drifted back to them. "Oh, and here's where we can set up the bridal suite! Vaggie, come look at my old room!"

As the girls disappeared towards the west wing, Anthony leaned in close, his breath warm against Alastor's ear. "You know, I still get shivers thinking about that leather—"

Alastor spun around, his normally composed features twisted with irritation. "Shut. Up," he hissed.

Anthony's eyes sparkled with mischief, clearly relishing Alastor's discomfort.

"You can't make me anymore, sir," He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at his lips.

The familiar title sent an unwelcome vibration through Alastor's body. He struggled to maintain his composure, acutely aware of how close they were standing in the narrow gallery.

"That's quite enough," Alastor managed, his voice strained. "We have a job to do, and I'd appreciate your professionalism."

“C’mon Alastor, I’m just pokin’ a bit of fun.” Anthony's laugh was soft and knowing. “Ain’t gonna bring up any secrets to your fancy new rich friends…or sugar daddy.”

Alastor's eyes darted towards the sound of Charlie's excited chatter, then back to Anthony's smirking face. His jaw clenched, a muscle twitching beneath his smooth brown skin.

With a swift motion, he grasped Anthony's elbow and steered him into the alcove before the closed doors to the east wing.

"Listen carefully," Alastor murmured, his voice low and intense. The playful cadence that usually colored his speech absent. "That lifestyle is in my past. I'd very much like to keep it that way."

Anthony leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his casual posture a stark contrast to Alastor's rigid stance.

"Oh? And here I thought you might be missing it," he purred, reaching out to straighten Alastor's already impeccable tie.

Alastor caught Anthony's wrist, his grip firm but not painful.

"Anthony, I’m not playing a game here. And I’m not joking about this." Alastor said, his hazel eyes locked on the other man's. “Please.”

The single word hung in the air between them.

Anthony's eyes widened, genuine surprise replacing his teasing expression. "Well, I'll be damned," he breathed. "The big bad Demon, saying 'please'? This must be serious."

Alastor released Anthony's wrist, stepping back.

"More than you know," He ran a hand through his dark curls, his thoughts drifting to Lucifer, to the life he was building here.

Anthony's demeanor shifted, his playful smirk softening into something more genuine.

"Alright, Al. I'll keep our sordid past under wraps," he said, his voice uncharacteristically sincere. He cocked his head, curiosity sparkling in his eyes. "But I gotta say, I'm surprised. You've never been this serious about anyone before. Who's the lucky guy?"

Alastor's chest tightened, torn between the urge to confide in his old friend and the need to protect Lucifer's privacy.

As he opened his mouth, and quickly closed it, the soft click of a door opening echoed behind him.

Alastor's head snapped up, his body tensing instinctively. The door to the master wing swung open, revealing a disheveled Lucifer, his golden hair mussed from sleep.

"Alastor?" Lucifer called out, his voice husky and disoriented. He blinked slowly, rubbing his eyes as he stepped into the hallway. "I woke up and you weren't there…"

Lucifer padded into the hallway, his bare feet silent on the plush carpet.

The oversized sweater he wore hung off one shoulder, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of pale skin. His pajama bottoms, adorned with cheerful yellow ducks, should have looked ridiculous, but on Lucifer, they were endearing.

Alastor's chest ached with a fierce tenderness.

Lucifer's sleepy gaze landed on Anthony, and his eyes widened in surprise. A flush crept up his neck, staining his cheeks a delicate pink.

"Oh," he stammered, tugging self-consciously at his sweater. "I didn't realize we had company."

"Darling," Alastor moved swiftly, closing the distance between them in long strides. He cupped Lucifer's face gently, thumb stroking his cheekbone. "It's alright. It’s just the wedding planner, remember that was today?"

"I'm sorry," Lucifer whispered, leaning into Alastor's touch. "I look a mess."

"Nonsense," Alastor replied firmly, pressing a soft kiss to Lucifer's temple. "You look perfectly lovely."

He glanced over his shoulder, catching Anthony's smirk. The knowing look in his old friend's eyes made Alastor's jaw clench, but he forced himself to focus on Lucifer.

"Come now, let’s get you back to bed," he said, opening one of the doors to the east wing. "I'll be back shortly, I promise."

Alastor closed the door behind him with a soft click, his fingers lingering on the polished brass handle.

He took a deep breath, steeling himself before turning to face Anthony. The smirk still played on the other man's lips.

"I believe we had an agreement," With measured steps, Alastor approached Anthony, his hazel eyes narrowing behind his round glasses. "You promised to keep our past discreet."

Anthony's smirk widened, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Oh, I remember. Crystal clear."

Alastor felt a flicker of irritation.

"Then I trust you'll honor that agreement," he pressed, fighting to keep his tone even. "What happened between us is in the past. It needs to stay there."

"Relax, sir," Anthony lilted. "Your secret's safe with me."

"I mean it, Anthony," Alastor said, allowing a hint of his dominance to creep into his voice. "Not a word."

Anthony's expression softened slightly, seeming to recognize the gravity in Alastor's tone. He nodded, his smirk fading into a more genuine smile.

"Yeah, Smiles," he replied, this time without the teasing edge. "You got my word."

Alastor exhaled slowly, feeling some of the tension leave his shoulders.

"Thank you," he said quietly, surprising even himself with the sincerity in his voice.

❣️Ao3❣️Original Fics (1 Year Free)❣️Tumblr❣️

[darcydarlingdabbles]

At Valentine’s Day~ Part 3 ~

RadioApple🩷Human Au/Age Gap🩷Top!Dom!Alastor

🩷Divorced Dad!Lucifer🩷Explicit

Roses are red, chaos is near, A wedding’s approaching, let’s spread some cheer. But love comes with secrets and plans to unwind— Will they find forever, or leave doubts behind?

🩷🩷🩷

❣️Ao3❣️Original Fics (1 Year Free)❣️Tumblr❣️

The soft tapping of Charlie's pen against her notebook echoed through the kitchen, a staccato rhythm that matched the scattered thoughts racing through her mind.

She stared blankly at the array of papers and laptops spread across the table, the words of their senior capstone project blurring before her eyes.

Beside her, Alastor's fingers flew across his keyboard, his brow furrowed in concentration.

Charlie's gaze drifted to the window, where golden sunlight streamed in, painting patterns across the polished wood floor of her parents’ kitchen.

Well, her father’s kitchen now. Back to happier thoughts.

Her heart fluttered with excitement, barely contained beneath her calm exterior. She couldn't focus on their project, not when a brilliant idea had taken root in her mind, growing more tantalizing by the second.

"Al," she blurted out, her voice startling in the quiet room. "I have the craziest idea."

Alastor's fingers stilled on the keys, and he turned to her with the air of a long suffering parent himself. "Oh? Do tell, my dear," he drawled, his lips curving into an amused smile.

Charlie leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "What if we had the wedding by Valentine's Day?"

"Valentine's Day?" Alastor's other eyebrow shot up to join the first. "Charlie, darling, that's less than six weeks away."

"I know, I know," Charlie said, waving her hands excitedly. "But just think about it! It would be so romantic, pink everywhere, everyone gathered together. Vaggie and I went on our first date on Valentine’s day and it was magical! Love was literally in the air…"

She trailed off, lost in the vision of her perfect day.

"While I admire your enthusiasm, have you considered the logistical challenges? Venues, catering, invitations—all of these things typically require months of planning." Alastor pushed his wire-rimmed glasses up his nose, his hazel eyes studying her intently.

Charlie felt a flicker of doubt, but she pushed it aside, her determination growing. "We can do it," she insisted, her voice filled with conviction. "I mean, how hard can it be?"

“Immensely,” Alastor answered coolly. And she knew that admonishing tone all too well. “You do realize most are planning their weddings from infancy, yes?”

"Come on, Al. Where's your sense of adventure?" Charlie leaned forward, her blonde hair falling over her shoulder as she fixed Alastor with her most persuasive gaze.

And she saw it. That look on her best friend’s face, when the stern facade started to crack—because he wanted to give in to one of her crazy ideas.

She just had to wiggle her way in.

Alastor chuckled, his rich voice filled with amusement. "I believe I left it back at the chalet, along with my sanity." He ticked off points on his long, elegant fingers. "Venues will be booked. Caterers will laugh in our faces. And don't even get me started on finding a dress in time."

“We'll have it here! Dad would absolutely love it!” Charlie's mind raced, countering each point. “You’re still friends with that lady who owns like a million restaurants down town—”

“Yes, Rosie is a good friend.” Alastor rubbed his fingers at his temples. “Probably because I don’t strain that friendship with ridiculous requests like—”

“But she’s a romantic!”

“She’s been married six times.”

“Which is how I know she’ll agree!” Charlie said brightly, grabbing and squeezing Alastor’s arm. “And I'll wear Mom's dress—there’s plenty of time to get it fitted.”

"And the guest list? Invitations? Flowers that aren't half-dead in the middle of winter?" Alastor's eyebrow arched higher, if that was possible.

"Details, details," Charlie waved dismissively, though her stomach fluttered with both excitement and nerves. "That's what I have you for, my brilliant Man of Honor."

Alastor's eyes widened slightly behind his glasses. "Oh no, you don't. Don't try to butter me up with flattery, Miss Morningstar."

But Charlie could see the fond exasperation in his gaze, the slight softening around his eyes that told her she was winning him over.

She pressed her advantage, standing from the table to wrap her arms around his shoulders. “Please, Al. It’s me and Vaggie’s chance for a perfect, magical day.”

Alastor pursed his lips, letting himself be squeezed by Charlie. “Will Vaggie even agree to this?”

“I promise you she will. She was ready to elope on New Year’s.” Charlie chuckled, before pressing her cheek against Alastor’s, eyes on his reflection in the kitchen’s big picture window. “Pleaaaase. I need you Alastor. Don’t you want to see me happy?”

"You fight dirty, Charlotte," Alastor sighed deeply, shaking his head, but a small smile played at the corners of his mouth. "Fine. I'll help you pull off this insane Valentine's Day wedding extravaganza."

Charlie's face split into a triumphant grin, her heart soaring. "Yes! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She bounced where she stood, her arms still around Alastor—so she jostled him and his glasses.

“Alright, alright. You can quit strong-arming me.”

“Oop, sorry!” Charlie released him quickly."You won't regret this, I promise!"

"Oh, I'm quite certain I will," Alastor drawled, but his smile was warm as he gazed at her enthusiasm. "Your optimism is both admirable and terrifying."

Charlie laughed, feeling lighter than she had in weeks. With Alastor by her side, she could do anything—even plan a wedding in in six weeks.

What could possibly go wrong?

“I have to call Vaggie!”

<3 <3 <3

Charlie's laughter trailed off as she led Alastor up the sweeping staircase to the master bedroom.

Her fingers trailed along the polished mahogany banister, memories of childhood games and late-night conversations with her parents flooding back.

As they reached the landing, Charlie's excitement bubbled over once more.

"I can't believe we're actually doing this," she beamed, pushing open the ornate double doors. “A Valentine’s Wedding, it’s going to be amazing!”

Alastor trailed behind Charlie, his fingers flying across his phone screen as he alternated between jotting down notes and firing off rapid-fire texts to his extensive network of contacts.

The constant vibrations from incoming messages created a steady hum in his palm, a testament to the chaos he was about to unleash.

"Rosie, darling," he muttered under his breath as he typed, "I need a favor of astronomical proportions…"

Charlie's voice drifted back to him, a steady stream of ideas and excitement as they planned out various spaces in the Morningstar Mansion, but Alastor found himself only half-listening as he focused on the monumental task ahead.

His mind raced, compiling lists of vendors, calculating timelines, and conjuring up contingency plans for the inevitable disasters that lay in wait.

A particularly enthusiastic series of texts from Lucifer lit up Alastor's screen, the older man’s excitement practically leaping off the device.

Despite his outward exasperation, Alastor felt a warmth spread through his chest at the unbridled joy of both father and daughter.

The Morningstars' enthusiasm was infectious, even if he'd never admit it aloud.

"…and we could have a heart-shaped ice sculpture right here!" Charlie's voice floated back to him as she gestured wildly, her blonde hair bouncing with each animated movement.

Alastor glanced up briefly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Noted, my dear," he replied, his fingers already tapping out a message to his contact of a local artist who sometime dabble in ice sculpture. Though he was going to suggest flowers as a medium.

He and Alastor had…participated in some events before of an equally audacious scale.

As they walked, Alastor's mind drifted to the logistics of transforming the Morningstar mansion into a Valentine's wonderland.

He envisioned swaths of pink and red fabric draped elegantly across the grand staircase, delicate fairy lights twinkling from every surface, turning the outside gardens into a dance floor and ceremony space, and the air thick with the scent of roses.

It was madness, of course, but a part of him thrilled at the challenge.

Another text from Lucifer pinged, this one suggesting live doves released during the ceremony.

Alastor pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply. "Oh, Lucifer," he murmured, "let's not get carried away."

So engrossed was he in his planning and correspondence that Alastor failed to notice Charlie's trajectory.

It wasn't until he heard her gasp that he looked up, realizing with a start that they had wandered into her father’s bedroom—his and Lucifer’s bedroom, to be precise.

"Oh, Charlie, I don't think we should—" Alastor began, but his protest died on his lips as she darted right in.

The master bedroom stretched before them, a testament to opulence and taste. Cream-colored walls adorned with gilt-framed mirrors reflected the warm glow of a crystal chandelier. Heavy velvet curtains in deep burgundy framed floor-to-ceiling windows, offering glimpses of the wintry but manicured gardens beyond.

Charlie's eyes swept over the king-sized bed, its elaborately carved headboard and mountains of silk pillows.

“You, redecorated a bit? She swallowed hard, pushing away the pang of sadness.

“Yes," he said softly, his hand coming to rest on the polished surface of the mahogany dresser. “Your father and I…we thought it was time for a change.”

Alastor's gaze softened as he surveyed the room, remembering the painstaking process of transformation. It had been a delicate balance.

The heavy curtains, once a somber black, now shimmered in rich burgundy—a compromise between Alastor’s style and Lucifer’s need for warmth and comfort.

He still lived at the dorm with Charlie during the week, his own spartan room a stark contrast to this opulent space.

But weekends and breaks found him here, in this evolving sanctuary he shared with Lucifer.

At first, Alastor had been hesitant to change anything in the Morningstar mansion.

It wasn't his place, he'd argued.

But as the months wore on, he couldn't ignore the toll the unchanged rooms took on Lucifer. The constant reminders of his broken marriage, of Lilith's cutting words and eventual abandonment, seemed to weigh on him like a physical presence.

Alastor remembered the night he'd found Lucifer sitting in the dark, surrounded by Lilith's things, a half-empty bottle clutched in his hand.

The older man's eyes had been red-rimmed, his hair disheveled. It was then that Alastor realized something had to change.

They'd started small—moving Lilith's vanity to a spare room, replacing her pictures with carefully chosen art pieces.

With each alteration, Alastor watched a bit of light return to Lucifer's eyes.

The house began to feel less like a mausoleum to a failed marriage and more like a home.

Of course, they'd been careful not to erase Lilith entirely. Charlie's mother was still a part of their lives, no matter how complicated that relationship had become.

Photos of happier times remained, tucked away in albums rather than displayed prominently. Lilith's beloved piano still stood in the music room, though it was now flanked by Alastor's cello and a new collection of sheet music.

Alastor's gaze drifted to the bedside table, where a framed photo of him and Lucifer now stood.

It had been taken at the charity gala, both of them resplendent in tailored tuxedos. Lucifer's arm was draped casually around Alastor's waist, their heads tilted towards each other in shared laughter.

The sight of it never failed to warm Alastor's heart.

He thought of Lilith then, of the vitriolic words she'd spewed when she learned of their relationship.

The accusations she'd hurled at Lucifer, at him, at poor Charlie caught in the middle. Alastor's jaw clenched, a familiar anger bubbling up inside him.

He hated her for the pain she'd caused, for the way she'd torn apart this family he'd come to love as his own.

But he would never voice that hatred, not to Charlie, who still held out hope for reconciliation, nor to Lucifer. Who still sometimes seemed stuck in a past version of Lilith that was loving and warm.

A woman Alastor had never seen, but could not dismiss from his boyfriend’s or his best friend’s life.

"Okay,” Charlie clapped her hands together, as if she could vanish the ghosts of the past. “Let's start with Mom's closet. There's bound to be something we can use in there."

As she strode purposefully towards the massive walk-in closet, Alastor suddenly stepped in front of her, his lanky frame blocking the entrance.

His expression determined, but his hazel eyes darting nervously behind his round glasses.

"Al? What's going on?" Charlie's brow furrowed in confusion. She tried to peer around him, curiosity piqued by his odd behavior. "Why are you being weird?"

Alastor cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses in that way he always did when uncomfortable.

"Charlie, dear, perhaps we should look elsewhere first. The attic, maybe?"

Charlie narrowed her eyes, studying her friend's face. There was something he wasn't telling her, and a tiny spark of worry ignited in her chest.

"Al, you're hiding something. What is it? Did... did Dad do something to Mom's things?"

“Of course not.” Alastor straightened up, smoothing down his sweater. “I didn’t damage anything or get rid of it. Just, relocated them.”

“So…why can’t I look in her closet?” Charlie folded her arms.

Alastor's cheeks flushed a deep crimson as he took a deep breath, his usual smooth cadence faltering slightly. "Well. You see, the closet has…undergone a bit of a transformation.”

Charlie's brow furrowed deeper, her curiosity only growing. "A transformation? What do you mean?"

"Well, you see, your father and I thought it would be more... efficient to repurpose some of the space. For storage and such." Alastor shifted uncomfortably, but didn’t move from in front of the door, his gaze darting around the room as if searching for an escape.

"Storage?" Charlie echoed, unconvinced. She took a step closer, trying to peer around Alastor's lanky frame. "What kind of storage requires you to block me from even looking?"

"It's just…organizational systems. Very boring, really. Nothing you'd be interested in."Alastor's cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red.

"Al, come on. I'm not a child. Whatever it is, you can tell me.” Charlie's eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I mean, you're practically living here now anyway. I'm okay with that, you know. You don't have to hide your stuff from me."

"My…stuff?"

"Yeah, you know. Clothes, books, whatever. I assume you've moved some things in. It's fine, really. I'm happy for you and Dad."

"Ah, yes. Well. It's not exactly…that sort of thing." Alastor let out a strangled laugh.

"Then what is it? Come on, Al. You're being really weird about this." Charlie tilted her head, confusion evident on her face.

Alastor groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Charlie, darling, some things are better left…unseen."

"Unseen? What are you talking about?" Charlie's voice rose slightly, frustration creeping in. "Al, just tell me what's going on!"

"Very well. If you must know…" Alastor took a deep breath, his shoulders sagging in defeat. "The second walk-in closet has been…repurposed. Into a playroom. For your father and I."

"A playroom? Like…"Charlie blinked, processing his words.

“Yes…an adult playroom.” Alastor's face contorted into embarrassment and exasperation.

"Oh. Oh!" Charlie's eyes widened, her face instantly matching Alastor's blush as realization dawned. She stepped back, her hand flying to her mouth.

The implications of Alastor's words sank in, causing a rush of conflicting emotions to wash over her.

For a moment, an awkward silence hung between them. Charlie's mind raced, processing this new information about her father and best friend's relationship.

Of course, she knew about Alastor and his proclivities—that was how they’d met. Not in the performing arts department, like they always said.

Unable to resist, Charlie quirked an eyebrow at Alastor.

"A playroom, huh? And here I thought you two were just having tea parties in there." Her tone was light, teasing, despite the lingering blush on her cheeks.

Alastor's tension visibly eased, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “I assure you, it is far more stimulating than caffeine.”

"Al! That's my dad you're talking about!" Charlie couldn't help but laugh, shaking her head. "I can't believe you've been keeping this secret. Some best friend you are!" She playfully swatted his arm.

"My sincerest apologies," Alastor replied, his voice dripping with mock contrition. "I assure you, it was purely out of respect for your delicate sensibilities."

“Hey! My sensibilities aren’t delicate.” She huffed, putting her hands on her hips.

“Fair enough.” Alastor cocked an eyebrow. “But they certainly are when it comes to your father being a participant.”

Charlie's laughter faded, and a wistful look crossed her face as she moved to sit on the neatly made bed.

"It's just…everything's changing so fast, you know?" she said softly, her eyes fixed on her hands. "Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for you and Dad. It's just…weird sometimes."

Alastor's teasing smirk softened into a gentle smile. He crossed the room and sat beside her, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight.

"I know, my dear," he said, his voice low and soothing. "Change can be unsettling, even when it's for the best."

Charlie leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. "Remember when we first met? At that class thing you did at the adult bookstore?"

"How could I forget?” Alastor chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. “You were wearing that absolutely ghastly pink sweater with the unicorn on it."

"Hey! I loved that sweater," Charlie protested, but she was smiling.

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, both lost in memories.

Charlie's mind drifted to late-night study sessions, impromptu karaoke parties in their dorm room, and countless cups of coffee shared over inside jokes and shared dreams.

"I miss those days sometimes," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Everything seemed so simple then."

Alastor wrapped an arm around her shoulders, giving her a gentle squeeze. "I understand, Charlie. But just because things are changing doesn't mean we're losing what we had."

“I know that, logically. It's just…you're not just my best friend anymore. You're dating my dad.” Charlie nodded, but her brow remained furrowed. “It's a lot to wrap my head around sometimes.”

Alastor was quiet for a moment, considering his words carefully. "Charlie, look at me," he said finally, turning to face her. His hazel eyes were serious behind his glasses. "Yes, my relationship with your father has changed things. But you will always, always be my best friend. That's not going to change, no matter what."

"Promise?" she asked, her voice small.

"I swear it," Alastor replied solemnly, then his lips quirked into a mischievous grin. "Besides, who else is going to execute your utterly insane Valentine’s Day Wedding.”

“Good, I need someone to execute my insane ideas.” Charlie chuckled, finally standing again.

"Speaking of memories," She glanced towards the closet, a curious glint in her gaze. "what about those mirrored closet doors? The ones Mom always used to fuss over?"

"Ah, yes. I left half of them intact," Alastor adjusted his glasses, a habit Charlie knew meant he was feeling something he wanted to hide.

"Really? I would've thought Dad would want a clean slate." Charlie's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"On the contrary," Alastor chuckled, his hazel eyes twinkling with mischief. “As you know, I rather enjoy watching…from all angles.”

"Alastor!" Charlie yelped, swatting his arm playfully. "What did we say about details?"

They shared a laugh, the awkwardness from earlier dissipating like morning mist.

Charlie felt a surge of affection for her best friend, grateful for his ability to navigate even the most unconventional situations with grace and humor.

"Well," she said, clapping her hands together with renewed enthusiasm, "I'm thinking we start with a mood board. Lots of hearts, of course, and maybe some cherubs?"

"My dear, if you insist on kitschy Valentine's decor, I may have to resign as your Man of Honor." Alastor groaned dramatically, but the fond smile on his face betrayed his true feelings.

"You wouldn't dare. Now come on, we've got a whirlwind romance to plan!" Charlie grinned, linking her arm through his.

As they left the bedroom, their laughter echoing down the hallway, Charlie felt a flutter of excitement in her stomach.

With Alastor by her side, she knew that no matter how chaotic the next few weeks might be, they'd face it together—just like always.

A little bonding moment for Charlie and Alastor~ This was surprisingly adorable to write.

❣️Ao3❣️Original Fics (1 Year Free)❣️Tumblr❣️

[darcydarlingdabbles]

At Valentine’s Day~ Part 2 ~ You’re Hot / Chill Out

RadioApple🩷Human Au/Age Gap🩷Top!Dom!Alastor

🩷Divorced Dad!Lucifer🩷Explicit

Light the flames, melt the ice, Let me show you something nice. Soft hands, firm grip, a whisper, a sigh— Let go, my dear, I’ll take you high.

🩷🩷🩷

❣️Ao3❣️Original Fics (1 Year Free)❣️Tumblr❣️

Lucifer's heart raced as the cool silk brushed against his eyelids. Alastor's deft fingers secured the blindfold with a gentle knot at the back of his head.

"Is that comfortable, my dear?" Alastor's smooth voice caressed Lucifer's ear.

"Yes," Lucifer breathed, suppressing a shiver of anticipation.

Alastor's hands glided down to Lucifer's collar, slowly unfastening each button. The rustle of fabric filled Lucifer's heightened senses as Alastor peeled the shirt from his shoulders.

Cool air kissed his exposed skin.

Lucifer's breath caught as Alastor's fingers traced along his waistband.

A flutter of nerves danced in his stomach. He trusted Alastor implicitly, but being stripped down by his Dom always stirred a mix of excitement and trepidation.

"Relax," Alastor murmured, his breath warm against Lucifer's neck. "I've got you."

Lucifer nodded, willing his muscles to unclench. He focused on Alastor's touch—deliberate, unhurried, savoring each moment of undressing him.

A soft thump reached Lucifer's ears, before he felt what he was sure was Alastor kneeling before him. His breath hitched sharply as nimble fingers worked at his belt buckle.

Was he really…? Even the mental image sent a jolt of arousal through him.

"Lift your foot, darling," Alastor instructed softly.

Lucifer complied, steadying himself with a hand on Alastor's shoulder as his lover removed his shoes and socks.

Then came the whisper of fabric as his pants were eased down his legs.

Completely bare now, Lucifer fought the urge to cover himself. He stood still, hyper-aware of Alastor's gaze upon him, drinking in every inch of exposed skin.

Lucifer shifted his weight, suddenly self-conscious. The softness that had crept into his midsection over the years seemed to mock him.

But then Alastor's hands were on him, warm and reverent. Fingertips skimmed over Lucifer's hips, tracing the curve of his stomach with a touch so tender it made the blonde’s breath catch.

"Beautiful," Alastor murmured, his voice rich with admiration.

His palms smoothed down Lucifer's thighs, thumbs pressing gently into the fading bruises he could still feel. Lucifer gasped as Alastor's fingers found a particularly sensitive bruise on his inner thigh.

"You wear my marks so well, my love," Alastor purred. His hands slid around to cup Lucifer's ass, kneading the flesh and brushing over healing bite marks. "Each one a reminder of the pleasure we've shared."

"It's been a while since you've given me any new ones," Lucifer leaned into the touch, tightness melting from his body.

Alastor chuckled, the sound sending a thrill down Lucifer's spine. "Patience, darling. I wanted your canvas clear for tonight." His lips brushed against Lucifer's hip, just above a yellowing bruise. "Rest assured, by morning, you'll be painted with fresh proof of my devotion."

The promise in those words made Lucifer's knees weak. He steadied himself against Alastor's shoulders, fingertips digging into taut muscle.

“How…do you always manage to say, stuff like that?” Lucifer whined.

“Would you believe I practice in the mirror?” The brunette said, with the sound of a smirk on his lips. Making the older man chuckle.

Alastor's hands continued their exploration, mapping every dip and curve of Lucifer's body. His touch was possessive yet worshipful, as if committing each detail to memory.

"Turn for me," the Dom commanded softly.

Lucifer obeyed, guided by Alastor's hands.

Cool air kissed his back as Alastor's fingers traced his spine, lingering over each vertebra. Lucifer arched into the touch, a soft moan escaping his lips.

"Exquisite," Alastor breathed, pressing a kiss between Lucifer's shoulder blades. His hands slid around to Lucifer's chest, thumbs brushing over sensitive nipples.

Lucifer gasped, heat pooling in his groin. Every touch, every whispered word of praise, chipped away at his insecurities.

Alastor's low chuckle sent a shiver down Lucifer's skin all over again. "My, my. So responsive already, and I've barely begun to play with you."

Heat bloomed across Lucifer's cheeks.

"Can you blame me?" he murmured, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. "You've spoiled me rotten since we got together."

"Is that so?" Alastor's voice held a note of amusement. Lucifer felt the air shift as Alastor stepped back, the loss of his proximity palpable. "Perhaps you would prefer less attention, then?"

Panic flared in Lucifer's chest. He reached out blindly, arms flailing in the darkness created by the blindfold.

"No!" The word came out as a yelp, more desperate than he'd intended. "No, I…I don't want that."

A warm chuckle resonated behind Lucifer, followed by the comforting sensation of arms wrapping around his waist. Alastor's clothed chest pressed against his bare back, grounding him.

"Right here, darling," Alastor murmured, his breath tickling Lucifer's ear. "I wouldn't dream of leaving you wanting."

Lucifer leaned into the embrace, relief washing over him. "You're still dressed," he observed, running his hands along Alastor's sleeves.

"Mm, all in good time," Alastor replied, nuzzling Lucifer's neck. "You needn't worry about me stopping our little games. I quite enjoy spoiling you…so long as you keep indulging me in my scenes."

A smile tugged at Lucifer's lips. The tension in his shoulders eased as he relaxed against Alastor's solid form. "Your scenes are my favorite part," he admitted, a hint of eagerness in his voice. "I love your games."

"Is that so?" Alastor's tone was playful. Lucifer could picture the raised eyebrow, the devilish glint in his eyes. "Well then, we'd best not keep you waiting."

Lucifer felt Alastor's hand wrap around his, tugging gently. "Come along now," Alastor said, leading him forward.

As they moved, Lucifer's anticipation built. What delights did Alastor have planned for tonight? The possibilities sent a thrill through him, heightening his already sensitive state.

"Any hints about what you’ve got in store?" Lucifer asked, unable to contain his curiosity.

Alastor's laugh was rich with promise. "Now, now. Where would be the fun in that? You'll just have to wait and—feel."

As they entered the playroom, Lucifer's senses heightened dramatically.

Without his sight, every sound, smell, and touch seemed magnified. The air was warmer than in their bedroom, caressing his bare skin.

A familiar scent wafted towards him—lavender and vanilla, he realized. One of Alastor's favorite candles.

"Mmm, it smells amazing in here," Lucifer murmured, inhaling deeply.

Alastor's hand squeezed his. "I'm glad you approve. I thought you might enjoy a little…ambiance."

Despite the heat of the room, a chill ran through Lucifer's body, raising goosebumps along his arms.

"Cold, darling?" Alastor's voice was closer now, his breath tickling Lucifer's ear.

Lucifer shook his head. "Not…exactly."

"Perfect," Alastor purred. His hands settled on Lucifer's shoulders, guiding him forward. "Now, let's get you settled, shall we?"

Lucifer felt the padded surface of the bondage bench against his thighs. Alastor's touch was gentle but firm as he helped Lucifer into position.

"Face down, love," Alastor instructed softly. "That's it. Nice and comfortable."

As Lucifer settled onto the bench, he felt Alastor's fingers encircle his wrists, drawing them to the sides. The familiar click of restraints sent a thrill through him.

"How does that feel?"

Lucifer tested the bonds, finding them secure but not uncomfortable. A sense of calm washed over him. "Perfect," he sighed. "Safe."

Alastor hummed approvingly, running a hand down the curve of Lucifer’s back. "Good. That's exactly what I want. You're doing wonderfully, my dear."

Lucifer relaxed further into the bench, his anticipation building.

The blonde’s relaxation was disrupted by a sudden touch on his ankles. He felt the unmistakable sensation of leather being strapped around them, binding them together.

"Alastor?" Lucifer questioned, a note of confusion in his voice. "What are you…?"

Realization dawned on Lucifer, and a wave of disappointment washed over him. With his legs bound like this, there was no way Alastor could…

"Wait," Lucifer said, unable to keep the dismay from his voice. "Does this mean you're not going to…?"

A low chuckle rumbled from Alastor's chest. "Is that all you can think about, darling?" His hand ghosted along the curve of Lucifer's ass. "Being fucked?"

“N-no I didn’t, I mean, I just…”

"You hoped I'd bend you over and take you right away?" Alastor's voice was teasing, a hint of amusement coloring his words. "How delightfully predictable."

Lucifer squirmed against his bonds, frustration and arousal warring within him. "Can you blame me?" he whined. "It's been days since you last—"

His words cut off in a gasp as he felt Alastor's hands on his ass, kneading the flesh before spreading him open. Cool air kissed his exposed entrance, making him shudder.

"Oh, I could fuck you if I wanted to," Alastor purred, his thumb brushing teasingly over Lucifer's hole. "Your pretty little ass is right here, after all. So pink and inviting…"

"Please," Lucifer moaned, pushing back against Alastor's touch as much as his bonds would allow.

"Patience, my love," Alastor chided gently. "I have other plans for tonight. Plans that I think you'll enjoy immensely…if you can control yourself."

A whimper escaped Lucifer's lips as Alastor's hands withdrew. The loss of contact was almost painful, leaving him aching and exposed. "But…but I need you," he pleaded.

"Need me?" Alastor's voice was closer now, his breath hot against Lucifer's ear. "Or just need release?"

Lucifer squirmed, his neglected cock trapped against the padded bench. "Both," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Alastor's laugh was rich and warm, and he felt Alastor's fingertips trace a teasing path up his spine.

"Patience, my dear," Alastor's voice was silky smooth, tinged with amusement. "All will be revealed in due time."

Lucifer took a deep breath, trying to quell the mix of excitement and nervous anticipation swirling in his gut. He trusted Alastor implicitly, but the unknown still sent a thrill through him.

"I'm trying," Lucifer admitted with a soft whine.

“Yes you are love,” Lucifer heard Alastor's footsteps moving away, then the soft clink of metal. “And that much effort will surely be rewarded.”

His other senses, heightened by the blindfold, picked up a new scent—warm, slightly sweet.

Suddenly, he felt Alastor's presence close again, followed by a gentle puff of air across his skin.

Making him shudder with a fresh wave of arousal.

"Is…is that a candle?" Lucifer asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Alastor's lips curled into a smirk, though Lucifer couldn't see it. "Yes," he purred, his voice low and rich with anticipation.

Lucifer swallowed hard before asking, "Will it hurt?"

Alastor's fingers trailed along Lucifer's back, his touch feather-light. "Only for a moment, my dear," he assured, his tone both soothing and tinged with desire. "But most find the lingering warmth more than soothing."

Lucifer nodded slightly, trying to steady his breathing. Despite Alastor's reassurances, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of apprehension. His muscles tensed involuntarily, causing him to wriggle against his bonds.

Alastor paused.

His voice took on a more serious tone as he asked, "Color, Lucifer?"

Lucifer hesitated for a moment, wrestling with his thoughts.

He trusted Alastor completely, but what if it actually hurt? What if it didn’t feel good?

What if he disappointed Alastor?

"Yellow," he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm…I’m not sure, sir."

Alastor set the candle down, his hand coming to rest gently on Lucifer's shoulder. "I appreciate your honesty, love," he said softly. "Let me reassure you. This is a lotion candle, designed for this very purpose. I've tested it myself to ensure your safety and comfort."

Lucifer felt some of the tension leave his body at Alastor's words. "You tested it?" he asked, curiosity mingling with relief in his voice.

"Of course," Alastor replied, and the blonde heard him shift, felt the pressure of the brunette sitting beside him. "I wouldn't use anything on you that I hadn't thoroughly vetted first."

Of course, Lucifer should have known that. Alastor liked to play a heel with him sometimes, but in reality he was very thoughtful and very careful with Lucifer.

“I’m sorry, sir, I shouldn’t have questioned—”

“Yes, you should have.” Alastor interrupted, his hand soothing through Lucifer’s hair, careful of the blindfold. “You are always allowed to tell me your concerns. I want you to know that,” He paused, then added, "How about we start small? I'll use a bit on your arm first?"

Lucifer nodded, resting his cheek back on the padded bench, grateful for Alastor's patience and understanding. "Yes, please," he murmured.

Alastor picked up the candle again, tilting it carefully. "Here we go," he said softly. "Remember, you're in control. If you want me to stop at any point, just say the word."

A moment later, Lucifer felt a warm droplet land on his forearm. It was hot, yes, and there was a little bit of a sting. Intense for a brief second before quickly fading to a pleasant warmth.

"Oh," Lucifer breathed, surprised by the sensation. He felt Alastor's fingers gently rubbing the spot, spreading what now felt like a silky lotion across his skin.

"How does that feel?" Alastor asked, his voice low and intimate.

Lucifer took a moment to assess the sensation. The initial heat had given way to a soothing warmth, and Alastor's fingers felt heavenly as they massaged his arm.

"It's…it's actually nice," he admitted, a smile tugging at his lips.

"I'm glad to hear that," Alastor said, the smile evident in his voice. "Now, darling, what's your color?"

Without hesitation, Lucifer responded, "Green."

The nervousness from earlier had melted away, replaced by a growing excitement for what was to come.

Alastor hummed approvingly, his fingers trailing along Lucifer's arm. "Excellent. Now, let's begin in earnest, shall we?"

Lucifer heard the soft clink of the candle being lifted, then felt Alastor's presence hovering over him.

A moment later, a thin stream of heat trickled along his shoulder blade. He gasped at the initial intensity, but the sting quickly faded into a delicious warmth that spread across his skin.

Alastor's fingers followed the path of the wax, massaging it into Lucifer's flesh with firm, circular motions.

The lotion melted seamlessly into his skin, leaving behind a silky smooth texture and a lingering warmth that seemed to seep into his very bones.

"How does that feel, my love?" Alastor murmured, his voice low and intimate.

"Amazing," Lucifer breathed, melting into the touch.

Alastor chuckled softly, continuing his ministrations. The candle tilted again, and Lucifer felt a new trail of heat cascade down his other shoulder.

This time, he arched into it, savoring the brief intensity before it mellowed into that same soothing warmth.

As Alastor worked, Lucifer found himself drifting into a state of blissful relaxation.

The initial nervousness had completely dissipated, replaced by a deep sense of trust and contentment. Each pour of the candle, each stroke of Alastor's skilled hands, seemed to melt away the tension he'd been carrying.

The scent of lavender and vanilla grew stronger as more of the candle melted, enveloping Lucifer in a cocoon. He could feel Alastor's touch becoming more intricate, fingers kneading into the muscles of his shoulders and upper back with practiced precision.

"You're carrying so much tension here, darling," Alastor observed, his thumbs working at a particularly stubborn knot. "When was the last time you truly relaxed?"

Lucifer hummed thoughtfully, the sound morphing into a soft moan as Alastor hit a sensitive spot. "I…I'm not sure," he admitted.

"Mm, I thought as much," Alastor replied, a note of concern in his voice. "Well, we'll have to remedy that, won't we?"

As Alastor continued his attentions, Lucifer couldn't help but smile to himself.

This seemed less like the intense scene he'd been anticipating and more like one of Alastor's self-care crusades. His lover had a tendency to fuss over him, always insisting that Lucifer needed to take better care of himself.

As Alastor continued, warm rivulets of lotion cascaded down Lucifer's back, eliciting a soft gasp from the blindfolded blonde. Alastor's hands followed, spreading the liquid heat across Lucifer's skin with practiced ease.

Those hands moved lower, kneading the muscles along the base of Lucifer's spine, a contented sigh escaped Lucifer's lips. The initial tension in his body was melting away, replaced by a languid warmth that spread through his limbs.

Alastor hummed in approval, his hands working their way down to the small of Lucifer's back. "Now," he said, a hint of mischief in his tone, "let's move on to more…interesting areas, shall we?"

Lucifer felt a stream of hot lotion drip onto the rounds of his ass, drawing a surprised gasp from him. Alastor's hands followed immediately, massaging the lotion into the flesh and muscles of Lucifer's backside.

"Oh," the older man breathed, his body tensing briefly before melting into the touch. He could feel himself hardening against the bench, arousal building steadily.

"Too much?" Alastor asked, his hands never ceasing their ministrations.

Lucifer shook his head, pressing back slightly into Alastor's touch. "No. Please, don't stop."

Lucifer's mind swam in a haze of pleasure, every nerve ending tingling. He barely registered the sound of straps being unbuckled until he felt the restraints loosen around his wrists.

"Turn over for me, darling," Alastor's voice came low and smooth, sending a shiver down Lucifer's spine.

With some effort, Lucifer complied, his movements almost dream-like. As he settled onto his back, he felt Alastor's fingers at his temple, gently removing the blindfold.

Lucifer blinked, his eyes adjusting to the soft light of the room.

Alastor stood over him, a desire and fondness in his gaze. "There you are," he murmured, trailing a finger along Lucifer's jawline. "Now, I have a little challenge for you."

The older man’s breath caught in his throat. "Oh?"

"Keep your hands at your sides," Alastor instructed, a hint of playfulness in his tone. "If you can manage that, there's a reward in store for you."

Instinctively, Lucifer gripped the edges of the bench, his knuckles whitening slightly.

"I'll try," he promised, then hesitated. "But…what happens if I can't?"

Alastor's lips curved into a smirk. "Let's focus on your success, shall we? Though I'm sure we could find a suitable… alternative, if necessary."

Lucifer swallowed hard, both thrilled and nervous at the implication. "I'll do my best," he whispered, fighting the urge to reach for Alastor.

Alastor's smirk widened as he reached for another candle, his movements deliberate and teasing.

With a soft puff of air, he extinguished the flame, the scent of vanilla wafting through the air.

Lucifer's gaze was transfixed as Alastor began to pour the melted candle wax onto his chest. Alastor's hands began to massage the lotion into his skin, paying special attention to his nipples.

"Oh, that’s nice," Lucifer breathed, fighting the urge to arch into the touch.

Alastor's fingers worked skillfully, teasing and kneading. "I'm glad you approve. You're doing so well, keeping still for me."

Lucifer bit his lip, concentrating on keeping his hands firmly at his sides.

The dual sensations of the warm lotion and Alastor's touch were driving him to distraction.

Alastor moved further down his body, down from his belly…towards his—

Lucifer's eyes widened. "Is that going where I think it is?" he asked, unable to keep the slight tremor from his voice.

His cock twitched, unsure if the hot wax would be pleasure or pain.

Alastor stilled, the metal candle with its pour spout hovering just above Lucifer's lower abdomen. His eyes flicked from Lucifer's half-hard cock to his face.

"Do you think you can handle that, my dear?" Alastor asked, his voice low and rich with promise.

The candlelight flickered across his features, casting shadows that emphasized the sharp angles of his face.

Lucifer swallowed hard, his fingers twitching against the bench as he fought the urge to reach for Alastor.

"I…I'm not sure," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. His cock twitched again, caught between desire and uncertainty.

Alastor nodded, a soft smile playing at his lips. "Then not now, love," he said, moving the candle away.

Relief and a twinge of disappointment warred within Lucifer, but he nodded, “thank you.”

"Of course," Alastor replied, his free hand caressing Lucifer's cheek. "Your comfort is paramount, darling."

With practiced ease, Alastor shifted his attention to Lucifer's thighs.

He set the candle down momentarily, his hands gently urging Lucifer's legs apart. The cool air of the room kissed Lucifer's most intimate areas, making him shiver.

Alastor picked up the candle once more, tilting it carefully. A thin stream of warm lotion trickled onto Lucifer's inner thigh, eliciting a gasp from the blonde.

The initial heat quickly mellowed into a soothing warmth as Alastor's skilled fingers worked the lotion into his skin.

"How does that feel?" Alastor asked, his voice low and intimate as he massaged Lucifer's thigh.

"Heavenly," Lucifer breathed, his eyes fluttering closed as he savored the sensation. The tension in his muscles melted away under Alastor's ministrations, replaced by a languid warmth that seemed to seep into his very bones.

Alastor hummed approvingly, continuing his attentions.

He worked methodically, alternating between pouring the warm lotion and massaging it into Lucifer's skin. Each touch sent sparks of pleasure coursing through Lucifer's body, his arousal building steadily again.

As Alastor's hands inched higher up Lucifer's thighs, he paused, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Tell me, darling," he purred, his fingers tracing teasing circles just shy of where Lucifer wanted them most, "are you still thinking about how that hot lotion would feel on your cock?"

Lucifer's breath caught in his throat, his cock twitching at Alastor's words. He licked his lips, suddenly aware of how dry his mouth had become.

"Y-yes," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I can't stop thinking about it."

The warmth of the lotion on his thighs, so close yet so far from where he truly craved it, was maddening. Lucifer's imagination ran wild. He could almost feel it—the initial shock of heat, quickly mellowing into a silky, all-encompassing warmth.

The thought alone made his cock throb with need.

"Is that so?" Alastor's eyes gleamed with wicked delight. "Well, we can't have you distracted, can we?"

Alastor dipped his fingers into the pool of hot lotion in the candle. He showed no reaction to the heat, his face a mask of calm control. Then, he brought those lotion-coated fingers to the shaft of Lucifer’s cock.

The blonde’s body jerked at the sudden heat, a gasp tearing from his throat.

For a split second, Alastor's grip loosened, ready to pull away at the first sign of discomfort. But Lucifer's voice rang out, clear and desperate.

"Green! Green, green, green!"

A slow, predatory smirk spread across Alastor's face. "Very well."

With deliberate slowness, Alastor dipped his hand back into the candle, coating his palm with the hot lotion.

Lucifer watched, transfixed, as Alastor's hand descended once more.

The first stroke nearly undid Lucifer completely.

The heat was intense, bordering on too much, but it quickly mellowed into the most exquisite warmth he'd ever felt. Alastor's hand glided along his length, spreading from base to tip.

"Oh fuck," Lucifer moaned, his hips bucking involuntarily into Alastor's touch.

Every nerve ending felt like it was on fire, pleasure coursing through his body in waves.

"Ah, ah," the brunette chided gently, though his eyes sparkled with amusement. "Remember, darling—hands at your sides. You're doing so well. Don't ruin it now."

Lucifer whimpered, forcing his hands to remain gripped to the edges of the bench.

It took every ounce of self-control not to reach for Alastor, to tangle his fingers in that silky hair and pull him in and rut into him like a desperate little thing until he came.

When the candle was finally emptied, Alastor set it aside. "Perfect," he purred, admiring his handiwork. "You've behaved beautifully, Lucifer. I think you've earned that reward I promised."

Lucifer's heart raced. "What kind of reward ?" he asked, curiosity and desire coloring his voice.

Alastor didn't answer immediately.

Instead, he reached for a metal thermos, unscrewing the cap with deliberate slowness. Lucifer watched, fascinated, as Alastor brought the container to his lips and took a long swig.

"What is that?" Lucifer couldn't help but ask, his imagination running wild with possibilities.

"You'll find out soon enough, my dear. Now, are you ready for your reward?" Alastor's eyes glinted with mischief.

Without warning, Alastor's hand shot out, gripping Lucifer's chin firmly. Lucifer's eyes widened in surprise, but before he could react, Alastor's lips crashed against his own.

The kiss was deep and demanding, Alastor's tongue pressing insistently into Lucifer's mouth.

Lucifer gasped sharply as an unexpected coldness hit his tongue.

Ice.

The contrast between Alastor's warm lips and the frigid ice cube sent a shiver down his spine.

"A-Alastor," Lucifer mumbled against his partner's lips, his body instinctively arching upward.

Alastor pulled back slightly, a smirk playing on his lips. "Enjoying your treat?" he asked, voice low and teasing.

"Green," Lucifer nodded, breathless. His body tingling from the dual sensations.

"Oh, we're just getting started," Alastor promised, his eyes gleaming.

True to his word, Alastor began a slow, torturous journey down Lucifer's body.

His lips, still cold from the ice, left a trail of kisses along Lucifer's jawline, down his neck, across his collarbone.

Each touch was a jolt to Lucifer's system, the chill a stark contrast to his flushed, heated skin.

"Alastor," Lucifer whimpered, his fingers clutching at the sides of the bench. The urge to reach out and touch Alastor was almost overwhelming, but he remembered the rules. He had to keep still if he wanted more.

Alastor chuckled, the sound vibrating against Lucifer's skin.

The Dom’s mouth reached Lucifer's chest, hovering teasingly over a nipple. Lucifer could feel the cold radiating from Alastor's breath, causing his skin to pebble in anticipation.

"Sir, please," Lucifer whispered, his voice strained with need.

Without warning, Alastor's ice-cold mouth enveloped Lucifer's nipple.

The shock of it caused Lucifer to arch his back, a sharp gasp escaping his lips.

Alastor hummed in agreement, the vibration sending another jolt through Lucifer's body. He took his time, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud, alternating between gentle suction and light grazes of his teeth.

Lucifer's mind was awash with conflicting sensations - the chill of the ice, the warmth of Alastor's mouth, the building heat in his core. He struggled to keep his hands at his sides, his fingers clenching and unclenching against the bench.

"You're doing so well," Alastor murmured, his breath ghosting over Lucifer's damp skin. "So obedient for me."

He moved to the other nipple, repeating his ministrations with the same meticulous attention. Lucifer's breath came in short, sharp pants, his body trembling with the effort to remain still.

As Alastor reached Lucifer's hips, he paused, reaching for the thermos.

Lucifer watched with hooded eyes as Alastor extracted another ice cube with the expert curl of his tongue, anticipation coiling in his stomach.

"Now," Alastor said, his voice low and commanding, "let's see how you handle this."

Alastor traced the ice cube along the crease of Lucifer's thigh, eliciting a shudder from the older man.

The cold trail left behind sent tingling sensations across Lucifer's skin, heightening his awareness of every touch.

"Green," Lucifer breathed, his hips involuntarily tilting upwards. Unable to think of more words to say. He just wanted more.

The brunette moved the ice between his lips lower, circling teasingly around Lucifer's balls, feeling the way the sensitive skin retracted.

Lucifer bit his lip, trying to stifle a moan.

"Don't hold back," Alastor commanded softly. "I want to hear you."

As if to emphasize his point, he suddenly pressed the ice cube directly against Lucifer's perineum. The shock of cold against such a sensitive area drew a loud gasp from Lucifer, followed by a deep, guttural moan.

"That's it," Alastor purred, clearly savoring the control he held over Lucifer's pleasure. "Let go for me."

Lucifer's mind was awash with sensation, every nerve ending seemingly on fire despite the chill.

His mind was consumed with it. With every spark and feeling—just wondering if there was more to feel.

As if reading his thoughts, Alastor lowered his head.

The first touch of his cold mouth on Lucifer's heated erection was electric. Lucifer's hands, which had been gripping the bench tightly, flew to Alastor’s shoulders.

Lucifer's vision blurred as waves of pleasure crashed over him. He felt himself teetering on the edge, every muscle taut with anticipation.

Just as he was about to tumble over, Alastor pulled back slightly, his eyes locking with Lucifer's.

"Are you alright, my dear?" Alastor asked, his voice husky but filled with genuine concern.

Lucifer nodded frantically, unable to form words.

Alastor's lips curved into a reassuring smile, and Lucifer felt a surge of warmth in his chest, even as his body trembled with need.

"Good. Then, let’s have a grand finale, then.“

Lucifer didn’t have the time or capacity to ask what Alastor meant.

Alastor's eyes glinted with mischief as he reached for both the lotion candle and the thermos.

Lucifer watched, transfixed, as Alastor dipped one hand into the warm, melted wax and the other into the icy container.

With deliberate slowness, Alastor withdrew his hands.

Rivulets of hot wax dripped from his left palm, leaving glistening trails down his wrist. His right hand emerged coated in a thin sheen of icy water, droplets beading on his skin.

Lucifer's breath caught in his throat, his cock twitching in anticipation.

Alastor wrapped both hands around Lucifer's throbbing cock. The effect was immediate and overwhelming.

Hot and cold warred for dominance, sending shockwaves of sensation through Lucifer's body. The silky warmth of the wax collided with the biting chill of the cold, creating a maelstrom of feeling that defied description.

Alastor's hands began to move, stroking Lucifer with practiced precision.

Each upward motion brought a rush of heat, the lotion spreading over sensitive skin. The downstroke followed with an icy caress, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

"A-Alastor," Lucifer gasped, his voice raw and desperate. "Oh fuck, oh fuck..."

Lucifer's hips bucked involuntarily, a strangled moan tearing from his throat. His fingers dug into the bench, knuckles white with the effort of keeping still.

Every nerve ending felt like it was firing at once, his body unsure whether to seek more warmth or shy away from the cold.

Lucifer's world narrowed to the exquisite torture of Alastor's hands. He could feel his climax building, a white-hot pressure coiling tighter and tighter in his core.

His thighs trembled, toes curling as he fought to hold back.

"Come for me." Alastor purred, his voice low and commanding.

Those words were Lucifer's undoing.

With a hoarse cry, he came, his orgasm hitting him with the force of a tidal wave. Pleasure exploded through his body, every muscle tensing as he spilled over Alastor's still-moving hands.

The orgasm seemed to last forever, each pulse accompanied by another jolt of sensation as Alastor continued.

Hot and cold, pleasure and overstimulation, all biting at Lucifer until he whimpered when it was too much.

Alastor’s hands flew off of him at once.

As the tremors subsided, Lucifer felt boneless, utterly spent. Alastor's hands were on him immediately, gently unbuckling the straps that held him to the bench.

"You did wonderfully," Alastor murmured, helping Lucifer sit up. "How are you feeling?"

"Wobbly," Lucifer managed, his voice rough.

Alastor chuckled softly.

Lucifer's world slowly came back into focus, his senses gradually returning from the overwhelming bliss of his climax. The room seemed to shimmer around him, the soft candlelight casting a warm glow that danced across Alastor's features.

Every nerve ending in Lucifer's body still tingled with residual pleasure, his skin hypersensitive to even the slightest touch. The contrast of temperatures lingered, a ghost of sensation that left him feeling both warm and chilled.

The scent of lavender and vanilla hung heavy in the air, mingling with the musky aroma he’d come to associate with Alastor’s scenes.

The Dom hovered over him, a fond smile playing on his lips. His dark hair was slightly mussed, a few strands falling across his forehead in a way that made Lucifer's heart skip.

"Can we go lay down now?" Lucifer asked, his voice barely above a whisper. His limbs felt like lead, pleasantly heavy and uncooperative.

Alastor chuckled, the sound rich and warm. "In a bit, my dear. Let's make sure you're steady first."

Lucifer nodded, or tried to. His head felt wonderfully fuzzy, thoughts drifting lazily through his mind like clouds on a summer day.

He reached out, fingers grasping at Alastor's vest, tugging weakly. All he wanted was to feel Alastor's lips against his own, to taste him, to share in the afterglow of their passion.

"One moment," Alastor said, gently disentangling Lucifer's fingers from his clothing.

Lucifer watched, curiosity piquing through his post-orgasmic haze, as Alastor reached for a nearby towel. The brunette turned slightly, wiping his mouth with quick, efficient motions.

"Are you alright?" Lucifer asked, a hint of concern breaking through.

Alastor turned back, a wry smile on his face. "Yes, I'm fine. Though I must admit, I didn’t quite plan to blow you with lotion on your cock—it’s rather like sucking a bar of soap. Not the most pleasant experience."

Lucifer's eyes widened, a mix of guilt and amusement washing over him. "M’sorry sweetheart."

"No need to apologize, my love," Alastor assured him, leaning in to place a gentle kiss on Lucifer's forehead. "The look of ecstasy on your face was well worth it."

"What about you?" Lucifer asked. "Do you want me to…?"

“No need.” Alastor shook his head, and with his head in this state, Lucifer had to remind himself that it wasn’t a rejection of him. It was about what his Dom needed, and Alastor didn’t always feel the need to get off.

“Let’s get you cleaned up for bed, hm?” Alastor hummed, moving to wipe him down with that fluffy towel, before getting Lucifer into his robe.

Lucifer relaxed into the embrace, feeling cherished and cared for. As his boyfriend began to softly stroke his hair, Lucifer felt a wave of contentment wash over him.

Alastor had been right. This was Lucifer’s favorite remedy for a sleepless night.

❣️Ao3❣️Original Fics (1 Year Free)❣️Tumblr❣️

[darcydarlingdabbles]

At Autumn's End ~ Part 1 ~ Say Yes

RadioApple🩷Human Au/Age Gap🩷Top!Dom!Alastor

🩷Divorced Dad!Lucifer🩷Explicit

A question, a promise, a love standing tall, A ring, a smile, a moment for all. With hearts set aflame, with laughter and bliss— A vow is just words, but love feels like this.

🩷🩷🩷

❣️Ao3❣️Original Fics (1 Year Free)❣️Tumblr❣️

The crackling fireplace cast a warm glow across the den of Morningstar Mansion, illuminating the small gathering of friends and family nestled on plush sofas.

Lucifer surveyed the scene with contentment and lingering anxiety, his fingers absently tracing the outline of the gold circle pendant resting against his chest.

The necklace from Alastor was still new enough to feel foreign, a tangible reminder of how much had changed in the past year.

"So Emily, any big plans for the new year?" Lucifer asked, forcing a casual tone as he offered a tray of carefully arranged hors d'oeuvres.

Emily, Vaggie's bubbly older sister, beamed. "Oh, you know, the usual resolutions—eat better, exercise more. But mostly I'm hoping to finally take that trip to Europe!"

Lucifer nodded, pleased to see everyone settling in comfortably.

His lingering anxiety came from the potentially awkward mix draped over their sofas in the den.

Going out with Alastor, Charlie, and Vaggie, even to dinner, had its fair share of uncomfortable moments. Usually from waiters who were never sure if it was a family dinner or a double date.

Saying ‘yes, it’s both’ got some really, really weird looks.

But, Lucifer wanted to be more open about his relationship with Alastor, now that the younger man was one semester left until graduation.

So here he sat, with his boyfriend, who was his daughter’s best friend, and her girlfriend—and her girlfriend’s family.

The two, and apparently only two, supportive older sisters in Vaggie’s big old traditional family.

Emily looked like her sibling—short, strong, with raven black hair, caramel skin, and bright brown eyes—and was nothing like Vaggie in personality.

The oldest sister was exactly the opposite. Lucifer had seen that resting scowl on his daughter’s girlfriend’s face every time they met, but Lute was tall, slender, and had severely chopped black hair.

And she looked absolutely impossible to impress.

Lucifer’s gaze drifted to Charlie, noticing how she fidgeted with the hem of her sweater. Her usual effervescence was notably dampened.

Alastor leaned in close to Charlie on the couch, murmuring something Lucifer couldn't quite catch. Whatever it was seemed to ease some of the tension from her shoulders.

Lucifer frowned slightly, a familiar twinge of concern rising in his chest.

Why did it feel like they were keeping secrets?

He took a sip of his drink to mask his unease, wondering if Charlie was upset for her girlfriend, or his boyfriend.

"And what about you, Lucifer?" Lute's stern voice cut through his spiraling thoughts. "You don’t believe in childish resolutions, do you?"

Lucifer blinked, caught off guard. "Oh, well, I suppose..." He trailed off, acutely aware of Alastor's piercing gaze. "I think it’s nice, to have something to reach for—to embrace change, even when it's uncomfortable."

Alastor's lips curled into that enigmatic smile that never failed to make Lucifer's heart race. "An admirable goal, my dear," he hummed. "Though I'd say you've already made remarkable strides in that direction."

The praise sent a flush of warmth through Lucifer, momentarily overshadowing his concerns. He returned Alastor's smile, allowing himself to bask in the closeness they'd cultivated.

But his eyes drifted back across Alastor and the sofa to Charlie's tense posture. And that nagging worry resurfaced. His fingers once again found the comforting curve of his necklace.

What weren’t they telling him?

Vaggie shifted uncomfortably on the couch as Emily leaned in, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "So, little sis, any exciting plans for the new year? Perhaps a certain someone is finally going to pop the question?"

Lute's stern expression softened slightly as she added, "You two have been together long enough. It's about time to make it official, don't you think?"

Vaggie's cheeks flushed, her voice taking on a defensive edge. "We're perfectly happy as we are, thank you very much. Not everyone needs a ring to prove their commitment."

Lucifer laughed, but noiced how Charlie seemed to shrink into herself, her lower lip caught between her teeth.

Then, he felt Alastor shift between him and Charlie. The blonde man expected a hand on his thigh or his back, only to see the younger put a hand on his daughter’s arm.

What on earth was going on with those two?

Alastor, ever the smooth operator, seamlessly interjected.

"Speaking of commitments," he said, his voice carrying a hint of playfulness, "Lute, didn't you mention wanting to make a video for your boyfriend, Adam? Since he couldn't join us tonight?"

"I did?" Lute's brow furrowed in confusion.

Charlie's eyes widened, a flash of panic crossing her features. Lucifer felt a surge of paternal concern.

Before Lute could question further, Emily jumped in. "Oh, yes! A New Year's Eve greeting. What a lovely idea!" She glanced around the room. "Where should we film it?"

"Anywhere in the house you'd like. We've got plenty of space."

Lucifer caught Alastor rolling his eyes, an action so uncharacteristic it made him pause

"Actually," Alastor chimed in brightly, his smile widening, "I think the gazebo in the garden would be perfect. The fairy lights will make for a charming backdrop."

"Are you kidding? It's freezing out there!" Vaggie's head snapped up.

"Not to mention pitch black," Lucifer added, his confusion growing. "Al, weren't you the one who insisted on taking down all the Christmas decorations already? Except…"

Alastor's gaze locked onto Lucifer's, catching him with an intense look in his hazel eyes.

Lucifer felt his breath catch, recognizing that look. It was the same one Alastor used in their most intimate moments, asserting his control.

He opened his mouth to voice his question, but Alastor silenced him with that look.

"Trust me," Alastor said softly, his tone brooking no argument. “It'll be perfect for a quick video. And after, we can come in and warm up.”

Charlie clapped her hands together, her eyes sparkling with barely contained excitement. "Perfect! Let's do it real quick, before midnight!"

The group shuffled out into the garden, a chorus of shivers and hushed complaints rising as the cold night air hit them. Lucifer, trailing behind, fumbled for the outdoor light switch with numb fingers.

"Got it!" he called out, his breath visible in the frigid air.

As the lights flickered to life, the gazebo transformed before their eyes.

The spacious structure stood like a beacon in the darkness, its white-painted wood gleaming softly. Delicate tendrils of frost clung to the railings, catching the light and sparkling like diamond dust.

Overhead, a canopy of twinkling fairy lights stretched across the rafters, casting a warm, golden glow that seemed to push back against the winter chill.

Despite the cold nipping at his exposed skin, Lucifer couldn't deny the romantic atmosphere Alastor had somehow orchestrated.

"Oh, it's perfect! Come on, you two!" Emily's excited voice broke through his reverie.

She ushered Lute and Vaggie towards the center of the gazebo, their footsteps echoing on the wooden planks.

“Lucifer, can I borrow your phone?” Alastor asked softly.

“Yeah, sure.” The blonde fished it out of his pocket, from underneath his fuzzy sweater.

Alastor tapped in the code with ease, but seemed to stumble finding the camera app.

Right. He had a flip phone until they started dating—when Lucifer got tired of not being able to video call his boyfriend.

Lucifer frowned, noticing Alastor fumbling with the device.

"Here, let me," Lucifer offered, reaching for the phone. "You know you're hopeless with technology, Al."

Alastor's grip tightened, his smile fixed.

"No need," he said, his voice carrying that same commanding edge from earlier. "I've got it under control."

"If you're sure…"Lucifer's frown deepened.

"Quite sure. Thank you, darling."

As Alastor turned away to focus on the sisters, Lucifer couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something crucial. His lover’s secretive behavior, the insistence on this particular location…what did it add up to?

Lucifer would really, really like to know. Before he froze solid

"Does Adam even want me in this video? And why isn't Charlie joining us?" Vaggie's deadpan voice cut through the crisp night air.

Lucifer glanced at his daughter, who was hovering near the gazebo's railing, her fingers dancing over her phone screen. He raised an eyebrow, sensing the poorly concealed anxiety in her posture.

Emily waved off Vaggie's concerns with a laugh that sounded just a touch too bright. "Oh, don't be silly! Of course he wants to see you. And Charlie's just…busy with school stuff. Right, Charlie?"

"Hmm? Oh, yeah," Charlie mumbled, not looking up from her phone. "Super important email. Sorry!"

Since when did his ‘be in the moment, be present’ daughter answer emails on New Year’s Eve??

As Lute and Emily positioned themselves on either side of a reluctant Vaggie, Alastor began fiddling with the phone. Lucifer watched, his fingers absently tugging at the hem of his sweater, as Alastor repeatedly started and stopped the recording.

"Blast," Alastor muttered, his usual smooth demeanor slipping. "Something seems to be wrong with the device. Emily, would you mind lending your expertise?"

Lucifer blinked in surprise. "I could help," he offered again, stepping forward. "I'm not completely hopeless with—"

"No!" Alastor's voice came out sharper than intended, causing Lucifer to flinch slightly. Alastor softened his tone. "No, darling. I'm sure Emily can assist. You just…stay right there, if you would."

Confusion and a hint of hurt swirled in Lucifer's chest, watching as Emily hurried over to Alastor, leaving her sisters standing awkwardly in the gazebo's center.

“Great,” Vaggie muttered.

Alastor's warm breath tickled Lucifer's ear as he leaned in close, his voice dropping to a low, commanding timbre that sent shivers down Lucifer's spine. "Stay still and quiet, darling. That's an order."

Lucifer's eyes widened, a mix of arousal and bewilderment flooding his system.

“Sweetheart…right, now?” His gaze darted nervously to the others, but they seemed preoccupied with the supposed camera malfunction.

"When I move," Alastor continued, his lips barely moving, "you're to stay glued to my side. Understood?"

Swallowing hard, Lucifer managed a shaky, "Yes."

Alastor's eyebrow arched, a dangerous glint in his hazel eyes. "Yes, what?"

A thrill raced through Lucifer's body, his cheeks flushing as he responded as softly as he could, "Yes, sir."

"Good boy," Alastor purred, before turning his attention back to the others. "Emily, dear, why don't you try adjusting the angle? Lute, Vaggie, please stay where you are for now."

As Emily redirected the camera, exaggeratedly frowning and muttering about technical difficulties.

Alastor smoothly stepped to the side. True to his word, Lucifer moved with him, their bodies nearly touching.

Though Lucifer still had no idea what the hell the brunette was planning.

Still, he was hyper-aware of Alastor's proximity, the warmth radiating from his lean frame.

"Oh dear," Emily sighed dramatically. "It's still not working properly. Lute, could you come take a look?"

As Lute moved to help, Alastor subtly shifted again, and Lucifer followed in perfect sync.

Though confusion still clouded his mind, Lucifer couldn't deny the odd sense of peace that settled over him, surrendering to Alastor's silent control.

As Lute stepped forward, everything in front of him snapped into place.

Charlie was kneeling behind Vaggie.

Lucifer’s golden eyes widened, heart leaping into his throat as he took in the sight of his daughter.

"Wait, is she going to—she is, isn't she?" Lucifer gasped, his voice rising with excitement.

Vaggie's brow furrowed. "What?" She began to turn, her folded arms falling to her sides.

Before Lucifer could utter another word, Alastor's hand clamped firmly over his mouth.

Lucifer flailed, muffled protests escaping against Alastor's palm as he struggled to contain his overwhelming joy.

Alastor's rich chuckle vibrated against Lucifer's ear. "I need you to breathe and—oh, I don't know—not ruin the moment?" His voice was warm with amusement. "You're like a puppy at Christmas."

The blonde man was immediately torn between indignation at being stifled and the thrill of Alastor's touch. His eyes darted between Alastor and the unfolding scene.

"Shh," The brunette soothed, his breath tickling Lucifer's neck.

Lucifer's shoulders sagged, reluctantly as he complied with a little nod of his head.

"That's it," Alastor murmured approvingly. "Just breathe."

As Vaggie turned fully, her stoic demeanor crumbled.

Her hand flew to her mouth, dark eyes widening as she took in the sight of Charlie down on one knee.

The twinkling fairy lights cast a soft glow on Charlie's face, illuminating her radiant smile.

"Vaggie, you've been my partner in everything—life, love, bad karaoke—and I can't imagine doing any of it without you. Will you marry me?" Charlie's voice, steady yet brimming with love, filled the gazebo.

Lucifer's heart swelled with pride and joy.

His daughter's words, so sincere and full of affection, brought tears to his eyes.

Instead, Lucifer vibrated with barely contained excitement.

Alastor's grip on Lucifer tightened slightly. "Let them have their moment." he whispered, his lips brushing against Lucifer's ear.

But Lucifer couldn't help himself.

He bounced on his toes, a muffled squeal of delight escaping past Alastor's fingers.

His golden eyes darted between Charlie's hopeful face and Vaggie's stunned expression, drinking in every detail of this precious moment.

Sensing Lucifer's impending outburst, Alastor swiftly dragged him backward, out of the frame of the video. "You can celebrate in about thirty seconds, darling," he murmured, his tone both amused and commanding. "Compose yourself."

Lucifer whimpered softly, torn between obeying Alastor and rushing to embrace his daughter. He settled for clutching Alastor's arm, his fingers digging into the fabric of his boyfriend's sleeve as he waited with bated breath for Vaggie's response.

"Charlie…Of course I will, you absolute dork," Vaggie's voice steady despite the emotion evident in her misty gaze.

The group erupted into cheers, the joyous sound echoing through the twinkling gazebo.

Charlie, beaming with unbridled happiness, slipped the ring onto Vaggie's finger with trembling hands. Before jumping up to practically tackle her girlfriend—fiance—in a kiss.

Lucifer felt Alastor tighten his hold for a beat, or three, before his grip finally loosened.

And the blonde wasted no time.

He practically bounded across the gazebo, sweeping both Charlie and Vaggie into a crushing hug.

"I knew it!" he exclaimed, his voice cracking with emotion. "I knew you were planning something incredible! This is perfect!"

The signs had been there, he realized, but he'd been too caught up in his own insecurities to piece it together. Now, though, all he felt was overwhelming joy and pride.

"Dad, you're squishing us," Charlie laughed, her voice muffled against Vaggie’s dark hair/

Lucifer loosened his grip slightly but didn't let go. "Sorry, sweetie. I'm just so happy for you both." He turned to Vaggie, his eyes twinkling. "Welcome to the family, officially!"

From the edge of the gazebo, Alastor watched the scene unfold, an amused smirk playing on his lips as he smoothed down his coat.

Lucifer caught his eye under Charlie's arm, mouthing a silent 'thank you' to his boyfriend for helping orchestrate this perfect moment.

***

The excitement of the proposal had mellowed into a contented buzz, and everyone had retreated indoors to escape the chill.

While Lucifer excitedly uncorked the champagne early, Charlie leaned against the kitchen beside Alastor, their shoulders just barely touching.

"I can't believe we pulled it off," she murmured, her voice soft with wonder. She turned to face him, a grateful smile spreading across her face. "I couldn't have done this without you, Al. You always know how to handle Dad."

"Your father is…perhaps overcompensating for past absences," Alastor chuckled, adjusting his glasses. "But I must admit, watching him nearly vibrate out of his skin with excitement was quite entertaining."

Charlie giggled, the sound bringing a genuine smile to Alastor's usually composed features. He inclined his head, his hazel eyes softening as he regarded her.

"Anything for you, my dear," he said, his tone uncharacteristically gentle. Then, unable to resist, he added with a hint of his usual dry humor, "Though I do expect at least a mention in the wedding toast."

"Oh, you!" Charlie laughed, throwing her arms around him in a tight hug.

Alastor stiffened for a moment, still unused to such open displays of affection, before relaxing into the embrace.

As he patted her back awkwardly, he caught sight of Lucifer watching them from inside, a knowing smile on his face.

Alastor felt a warmth spread through his chest that had nothing to do with the champagne.

As Charlie pulled away, still beaming, Alastor allowed himself a small, private smile. Perhaps, he mused, there was more to gain from letting people in than he'd previously thought.

Charlie's eyes sparkled with mischief as she pulled back from the hug, her blonde hair catching the soft glow from the kitchen.

"You know what, Al? I can do you one better than just a mention in a toast."

"Oh? And what might that be, my dear?" Alastor raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued.

Charlie took a deep breath, her excitement barely contained. "Will you be my Man of Honor for the wedding?"

"I…what?"

For once, Alastor's carefully cultivated composure slipped. His eyes widened behind his glasses, mouth slightly agape.

A giggle escaped Charlie's lips at his stunned expression. "You know, like a Maid of Honor, but…well, you're a man. C'mon, Al," she pleaded, grabbing his hands. "You're my best friend. I wouldn't want it to be anyone else."

Alastor was still stun-locked.

This role would put him squarely in the spotlight at her wedding, with her family, who were also Lucifer’s family.

And yet, the earnestness in Charlie's eyes tugged at something deep within him.

He chuckled softly, feeling an unfamiliar warmth spread through his chest. "Well, my dear," he said, his voice regaining its usual smooth cadence, "how could I possibly refuse such an honor?"

Charlie squealed in delight, bouncing on her toes.

Alastor's lips curved into a genuine smile—she was her father’s daughter then.

"A toast, then," he announced, raising his champagne flute. "To your Man of Honor."

The crystal clinked softly as they touched glasses. As Charlie beamed at him, Alastor felt a mixture of affection and trepidation.

What exactly had he just agreed to? Planning a wedding, choosing dresses, managing family drama…he wondered what he'd gotten himself into.

But as he caught sight of Lucifer near the fire, beaming over Vaggie’s ring, watching them with a soft, proud smile, Alastor realized that perhaps this new adventure wouldn't be so bad after all.

❣️Ao3❣️Original Fics (1 Year Free)❣️Tumblr❣️

[darcydarlingdabbles]

At Valentine's Day ~ Part 0 ~ Feb 1st

RadioApple🩷Human Au/Age Gap🩷Top!Dom!Alastor

🩷Divorced Dad!Lucifer🩷Explicit~ 4.5k

AN: Heya~

This Valentine's Day special will be posting every day in February until...well it was supposed to be until the 14th, but then a plot got in my porn.

Stay Tuned~

🩷🩷🩷

❣️Ao3❣️Original Fics (1 Year Free)❣️Tumblr❣️

Lucifer's eyes fluttered closed as Alastor's lips pressed against his, the taste of mint and desire mingling on his tongue.

The new playroom surrounded them—but Alastor’s enthusasim was really keeping the older man from really getting a good look. Though Lucifer couldn’t find it in himself to complain. Not when his Dom’s excitement was so palpable in every biting kiss.

Alastor had practically built this little sanctuary of black and red. He told Lucifer exactly what he’d wanted, and the blonde now had a few colorful names on his credit card bill, but then the younger man refused to let Lucifer lift a finger to help.

But this was the first time Alastor had brought him into the playroom.

Through half-lidded eyes, he caught glimpses of the imposing bondage bench, its candy-red leather padding a stark contrast to the obsidian frame. Various straps and restraints dangled from its arms, their purposes a mystery to Lucifer but undoubtedly clear to Alastor.

A gentle tug at his collar brought Lucifer's attention back to the man before him.

"Are you with me, my dear?" he asked, his voice a low, reassuring purr.

"Yes, green. Very, very green." Lucifer nodded, finding his voice.

Alastor's finger curled around the metal ring, pulling him closer, daring his eyes to wander. When those hazel eyes were threatening to consume already.

“Good.”

The kiss deepened, slow and consuming, igniting a fire in Lucifer's core. He could feel Alastor's anticipation, the barely contained excitement of the Dom seeping through his calm exterior.

"Though I feel a bit exposed compared to you." his gaze dropping to take in their attire. Both wore red satin robes, but Lucifer couldn't help noticing how his barely reached mid-thigh while Alastor's brushed his calves.

"That's by design, darling. I want easy access to all of you." A low chuckle rumbled from the brunette’s chest.

The words sent a shiver down Lucifer's spine, vulnerability and exhilaration coursing through him. He leaned into Alastor's touch, craving the safety and validation only his Dom could provide.

"Tell me what you're thinking," Alastor murmured, his fingers tracing the line of Lucifer's jaw, with his thumb still hooked in the ring of Lucifer’s white leather collar.

"I'm thinking... I'm lucky.” Lucifer swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper. “That I want this. That I'm scared, but in the best possible way."

"You're safe with me, darling. Always."

As their lips met again, Lucifer allowed himself to melt into the kiss, pushing aside his insecurities.

Here, in this room of black and red, with Alastor's steady presence guiding him, he felt truly seen and accepted.

Alastor broke the kiss, his hazel eyes searching Lucifer's face. "Are you ready, my dear?" he asked, his voice a low, velvety purr.

"Yes," Lucifer breathed.

A small chuckle escaped Alastor's lips, his demeanor shifting. "Are you going to be a good little toy for me?"

The words sent a jolt of electricity through Lucifer's body.

"Yes, Sir," he replied eagerly, his golden eyes wide with desire.

Alastor's smile widened, predatory and pleased.

He steered Lucifer towards the strap-down bench, his movements fluid and purposeful, his presence filling the room.

As they reached the bench, Alastor's fingers found the plunging neckline of Lucifer's robe.

With a deliberate slowness that made the blonde’s breath catch, he pushed the fabric off Lucifer's shoulders. The satin whispered as it fell, pooling around Lucifer's ankles in a puddle of crimson.

Alastor's eyes raked over Lucifer's exposed form, a smirk playing on his lips. "My, my, Aren't you eager?" he teased, his gaze lingering pointedly. "Already half-hard for me?"

"I can't help it," Lucifer felt heat rush to his cheeks, but he didn't try to hide his arousal. "You have that effect on me."

Being exposed was one thing—but being wanted made his whole body flush.

Alastor's nimble fingers danced over the bondage bench, adjusting the padded section until it stood upright like a chair. A soft hum escaped his lips as he worked, the melody both soothing and tantalizing to Lucifer's ears.

"Sit," Alastor commanded gently.

Lucifer's pulse thudded as he obeyed, his skin tingling where Alastor's hands brushed against him.

He watched, mesmerized, as Alastor knelt to secure the ankle straps, wondering why his hands were being left free.

"There we are," Alastor murmured, rising gracefully. He produced a leather leash, clipping it to Lucifer's collar with practiced ease. "How does that feel, my dear? Not too tight?"

Lucifer tested his bonds, finding he could wiggle but not lean far from the chair's head. "It's perfect," he breathed, his golden eyes fixed adoringly on Alastor.

"Excellent." Alastor's smile was warm, yet there was a glint in his hazel eyes that made Lucifer shiver with anticipation.

To Lucifer's surprise, Alastor turned and walked to a corner of the room, settling into a high-backed armchair he'd placed there weeks ago.

"Alastor?" Lucifer couldn't keep the whine from his voice. "Are you…you’re not doing one of those things where you ignore me, are you?"

Alastor crossed his legs, looking maddeningly composed. "And why would you think that, my little toy?"

"We've done this before," Lucifer wriggled in place, hearing the clip clink against the ring in his collar. "You'd put me on my knees, or on a toy, and then just…read, or do schoolwork."

"Ah yes, I remember. You were so beautifully frustrated." A low chuckle escaped the dominant.

Alastor leaned back in the chair, his elbow propped elegantly on the armrest. His smile widened, a teasing glint in his eyes as he regarded Lucifer's bound form.

"Luckily for you," Alastor purred, "I have other plans for tonight."

Lucifer's breath caught. "What kind of plans?"

"Patience, darling. All will be revealed in due time." Alastor's gaze roamed over Lucifer's body.

The anticipation was delicious torture.

With deliberate slowness, Alastor reached for something just out of Lucifer's line of sight. As he stretched, his robe slipped off one shoulder, revealing a tantalizing expanse of rich brown skin.

Lucifer's eyes widened as he realized Alastor was naked beneath the satin.

"Like what you see?" Alastor asked, his voice low and knowing.

Lucifer nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He strained against his bonds, desperate to touch, to taste, to worship every inch of Alastor that his lover would let him.

Alastor's eyes sparkled with mischief as he noticed Lucifer's struggle. "Don't fret, my dear. I haven't forgotten about you," he assured, his voice a silky caress. "My hands are simply…otherwise occupied at the moment."

"What’s more important than me?" he blurted out, immediately regretting the bratty tone in his voice.

"Impatient, aren't we?" Alastor's lips curled into a smirk. ”That is a shame, as I do need to take my time.”

With deliberate slowness, he pulled open his robe, letting it fall away completely.

Lucifer's breath caught in his throat. There sat Alastor, gloriously naked, one hand wrapped around his cock while the other rolled something small between his fingers.

It was rare that he got to watch Alastor touch himself.

The younger man told Lucifer that he derived more pleasure from their connection, and from pleasing Lucifer. And when he woke up hard and wanting, he’d always turned to Lucifer for relief—that the blonde was happy to oblige.

"Like what you see, darling?"

"Yes," Lucifer nodded frantically.

“Good boy," he purred, "sometimes the anticipation is half the fun."

“Beg to differ.” Lucifer strained against the leash, desperate to touch, to taste, to have anything Alastor would let him have.

Alastor reached for a small bottle, the clear liquid inside catching the light as he flipped the cap open.

Lucifer's eyes widened, his heart racing as Alastor drizzled the lube over his fingers. With a graceful movement, Alastor spread his legs over the arms of the throne-like chair, fully exposing himself.

"Al, are you—"

His question was cut short by a soft gasp from Alastor as he slid a finger inside himself. The blonde’s restraints creaked as he instinctively lurched forward.

"Oh fuck," Lucifer whimpered, his cock throbbing painfully. "Alastor, please…"

"Patience, darling,” his voice slightly strained as he worked his finger deeper. Alastor's eyes, dark with desire, locked onto Lucifer's.

"You've never—I mean, I've never seen you do that before," the older man felt his face flush hot, the words tumbling out in a rush.

A low chuckle rumbled from Alastor's chest. "Just because you haven't seen me do it," he said, pausing to draw in a sharp breath as he curled his finger, "doesn't mean I haven't."

"You're killing me here." Lucifer groaned.

Lucifer's mind reeled at the implication. How many times had Alastor done this in private? The image of his lover pleasuring himself, alone and wanting, sent a fresh wave of desire coursing through him.

He strained against his bonds, his body aching with need. "Please," he whined, his voice thick with desperation. "Let me touch you. I'll do anything you want. I could rim you. Make it so good for you."

A slow, teasing smile spread across Alastor's face. His glasses had slipped down his nose, giving him a disheveled look that only heightened Lucifer's arousal.

"Oh, my sweet little toy," Alastor purred, his free hand trailing lazily down his own chest. "You'll know what I want soon enough."

Lucifer's throat went dry, transfixed by the sight before him. He watched, mesmerized, as Alastor's long fingers disappeared into his hole again, this time with two.

The Dom's breath hitched, his back arching slightly.

"Sir…" Lucifer breathed, his own cock painfully hard and neglected.

“You know…” The brunette chuckled. “I didn’t even bind your hands, but you haven’t touched yourself.”

“You…You didn’t say I could.”

Suddenly, Alastor's body tensed, a sweet, breathy moan escaping his lips. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, pleasure evident on his face.

Lucifer recognized that look, knew Alastor had found that spot inside himself.

"Alastor, please, I need—" he whimpered, pulling uselessly at his restraints.

But his pleas were cut short as the brunette let out another soft sound, more deliberate this time, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on his bound partner.

Alastor's gentle laugh cut through the tension in the room, his voice slightly breathless as he continued to work his fingers inside himself.

"Oh my," Alastor drawled, his hazel eyes glinting with mischief behind his glasses. "Am I going to have to put a ring on your cock before I even finish prepping myself?"

The thought of being denied for even longer sent a confusing mix of dread and excitement through him. He bit his lip.

"Maybe," he finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Alastor rolled his eyes, fond exasperation and amusement crossing his face.

He stood, gracefully adjusting his robe to cover himself once more. Lucifer couldn't help but let out a soft, disappointed whine at the loss of the tantalizing view.

"Patience," Alastor chided gently, his voice a silky purr. He strode across the room to the closet, his movements deliberate and unhurried.

The anticipation was almost unbearable. He tugged lightly at his restraints, not to escape, but seeking the comforting reminder of his helplessness.

Lucifer's heart raced as he watched Alastor select one of their silicone rings from the array of toys.

"Alastor, please," Lucifer breathed, unsure if he was begging for mercy or for more.

Alastor returned, a predatory gleam in his eyes. Without a word, he knelt between Lucifer's spread legs. Lucifer gasped as Alastor's warm mouth suddenly enveloped his aching cock.

Lucifer’s only thought, was that this man was about to be the death of him.

After a few torturous moments, Alastor pulled back. With practiced ease, he slid the textured ring into place at the base of Lucifer's now glistening shaft.

"There we are," Alastor said, his voice low and pleased. "A perfect fit for my perfect little toy."

The ring felt snug and slightly cool against his heated flesh, a constant reminder of his predicament. Lucifer couldn't help the plaintive whine that escaped his throat.

"Now, now," Alastor admonished, his tone gentle but firm. "I promise it will be worth it."

"Yes, Alastor," Lucifer took a shaky breath, trying to center himself.

The Dom’s nimble fingers worked the controls of the bench, tilting it back until Lucifer found himself nearly horizontal.

Alastor leaned over him, his hazel eyes dancing with mischief as he secured Lucifer's wrists to the bench.

"Since you seem so eager to rush things," Alastor purred, "No touching allowed."

Lucifer's breath hitched. "But—"

"Ah-ah," Alastor cut him off with a finger to his lips. "I might have to gag that pretty mouth of yours."

Lucifer swallowed hard, torn between arousal and frustration.

He watched, transfixed, as Alastor positioned himself directly above him, straddling him, close enough that Lucifer could feel the heat radiating from his body.

Alastor's robe fell open, revealing his lean, muscled form and his own impressively hard cock. He began to touch himself, letting out soft, breathy sounds that sent shivers down Lucifer's spine.

It was pure torture. Exquisite agony, to have to wait.

"You're being so good for me," Alastor murmured, his voice husky with pleasure. "Such a perfect little toy, all trussed up and waiting."

Lucifer could only whimper in response, his entire body trembling with need. The ring around his cock felt impossibly tight, the only thing keeping him from embarrassing himself completely.

“You may speak.” Alastor asked, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

"Fuck," Lucifer breathed, his golden eyes wide and desperate. "You're beautiful, Alastor. Please, I need you—"

"Good things come to those who wait," Alastor chuckled, his fingers working himself open with practiced ease.

With a languid grace, Alastor reached for the lever on the side of the bench. The mechanism whirred softly as the surface tilted back, leaving Lucifer flat on his back.

Alastor's palm came to rest on Lucifer's chest, the warmth of his touch searing through Lucifer's very being.

"Are you ready for me, toy?"

Lucifer nodded frantically, words failing him. His heart raced beneath Alastor's hand, a staccato beat of anticipation and desire.

Slowly, excruciatingly, Alastor began to lower himself onto Lucifer's aching cock.

The tight heat of Alastor’s ass enveloped him inch by glorious inch, and Lucifer's world narrowed to that single point of contact. Being inside the man who had so thoroughly claimed him inside and out.

"Alastor," Lucifer gasped, his back arching as much as his restraints would allow. "I—it's too much, I can't—"

Alastor's fingers curled on his chest, stilling his hips with a pant on his russet lips.

"You can, and you will," he commanded softly.

Every nerve ending felt electrified, each sensation magnified tenfold. Lucifer squeezed his eyes shut, overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through him.

"Look at me," Alastor ordered, his voice gentle but firm.

The blonde obeyed, meeting Alastor's intense gaze. He a deep, steadying affection that grounded him even as he felt like he might fly apart at any moment.

"That's it," Alastor murmured, a rare softness creeping into his tone. "Stay with me, darling. Feel every moment of this."

Alastor sank down fully, enveloping Lucifer completely.

The blonde's breath caught in his throat, his entire body trembling with the effort of restraint.

Lucifer tried to stifle the whimpers falling from his lips, lest he miss the single, soft sigh coming from Alastor.

"Oh, you’re so good for me," Alastor groaned, silky voice gone rough.

“Al-Alastor.”

He began to move, slowly at first, savoring each sensation. "So obedient, so eager to please."

Lucifer whimpered, his hips instinctively trying to thrust upwards despite his bonds.

"Alastor, please," he gasped, golden eyes wide and pleading. "I—Green. Please green. Please."

A knowing smirk played across Alastor's lips as he moved his hips faster. "You'll hold on as long as I say you will," he countered, leaning back slightly to change the angle.

One hand trailed down his own chest, wrapping around his cock as he rode his partner.

The sight was almost too much for Lucifer to bear.

Drinking in every detail—the flush spreading across Alastor's rich brown skin, the way his dark curls bounced with each movement, the look of pure bliss on his face as he chased his own pleasure.

"Look at you," Alastor breathed, his rhythm faltering slightly. "So desperate, so beautiful like this. All mine."

Lucifer's world narrowed to this moment, to the overwhelming sensations threatening to consume him.

He clung to Alastor's words like a lifeline, desperate to be good, to please, to earn the praise that made him feel whole

"Please, Alastor," he begged, his voice cracking. "I need to come. Please, take the ring off." Lucifer's entire body was left trembling.

Alastor chuckled, a low, breathy sound that was so affected Lucifer could also lose his mind again.

The brunette leaned down, capturing Lucifer's lips in a deep, consuming kiss that left the blonde even more lightheaded than before.

“Now, desperate little thing,” Alastor purred against Lucifer’s lips. “I know you don't think you're allowed to come inside me.”

A whine escaped Lucifer's throat, his hips shifting restlessly against his restraints.

Alastor's smile widened, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "I might just ride your hard cock until you're crying, my dear," he suggested, his voice silky smooth. "Would you like that?"

Lucifer's breath hitched, tears already pricking at the corners of his eyes. The thought of more stimulation, more teasing, more denial…it was both terrifying and thrilling.

"I- I don't know if I can take it," he admitted, his voice small and vulnerable.

"Oh, but you will," Alastor assured him, running a soothing hand down Lucifer's chest. "Because you're such a good toy for me, aren't you?"

Lucifer nodded eagerly, desperate for the praise, for any scrap of affirmation Alastor would give him.

"Yes," he whispered. "I'll be good. I promise."

Alastor's eyes glinted with approval as he resumed his steady rhythm, rolling his hips in a way that made Lucifer see stars.

The blonde could only watch, transfixed, as Alastor took his pleasure.

Every movement was deliberate, calculated to drive them both to the brink. Alastor's thighs flexed as he rose and fell, the muscles in his abdomen rippling with each thrust.

His hand moved languidly along his own cock, occasionally pausing to tease the sensitive head.

Lucifer drank in every detail greedily.

The way Alastor’s throat bobbed as he swallowed back a moan. The slight furrow of concentration between his brows. The way his glasses had slipped down his nose

"Lucifer," Alastor purred, his voice husky with desire. "You feel divine inside me. So hard, so perfect."

A whimper escaped Lucifer's lips at the praise. He strained against his bonds, desperate to touch, to pull Alastor closer, to worship every inch of him.

Alastor's pace quickened, his breathing growing more ragged.

A bead of sweat trickled down his neck, and Lucifer ached to lick it away. Instead, he watched as it traced a tantalizing path down Alastor's chest.

“Please…”

"Shh," Alastor soothed. "Just feel, my dear. Feel how good you're making me feel."

And Lucifer could feel it. He could feel the way Alastor tightened around him with each downward thrust, the trembling in his thighs as he neared his bliss.

Alastor's movements became more erratic, his composed facade cracking as pleasure overtook him. His free hand gripped Lucifer's shoulder, nails digging in just shy of painful.

"Oh, fuck," Alastor breathed, the rare profanity sending a thrill through Lucifer.

The leather cuffs bit into his wrists, a reminder of his helplessness.

Lucifer watched, mesmerized, as Alastor's back arched, his head thrown back. A low, guttural moan escaped his lips as he came, spilling hot and wet across Lucifer's stomach and chest.

The sight was breathtaking.

Alastor, always so composed, coming undone above him. His face slack with pleasure, lips parted in a silent cry. His body shuddered with aftershocks, muscles clenching around Lucifer.

The blonde was beyond words. But he couldn’t bring himself to strain against his bonds and disturb his lover’s come down.

Alastor's weight shifted, and suddenly he was no longer straddling Lucifer.

The blond felt a rush of cool air against his overheated skin as Alastor moved to stand beside the bench. A soft gasp escaped Lucifer's lips as he watched Alastor stumble slightly, his usual grace momentarily compromised.

"Alastor?" Lucifer's voice was thick with concern. He strained against his restraints, the urge to reach out and steady his partner overwhelming.

Alastor's hand shot out, gripping the edge of the bench to regain his balance.

"I'm quite alright, my dear," Alastor assured him, his voice steady despite the slight tremor in his legs. "Just savoring the aftereffects of our little..ride."

Lucifer's cheeks flushed, his arousal still painfully present. "Please," he whimpered, not entirely sure what he was begging for.

Alastor's eyes softened as he gazed down at Lucifer.

He reached out, long fingers curling around Lucifer's jaw with surprising gentleness.

"You've been such a good toy for me," he murmured, thumb brushing across Lucifer's lower lip. "So patient, so obedient."

Lucifer leaned into the touch, his golden eyes wide and pleading. He felt Alastor's other hand moving lower, and then—

"Oh, Fuck!" Lucifer cried out as Alastor smoothly slid the ring off his aching cock.

The sudden rush of sensation was overwhelming, and before he could even process what was happening, he was coming, his body arching off the bench as waves of pleasure crashed over him.

As Lucifer's breathing slowly steadied, he felt the warm press of Alastor's lips against his own.

The kiss was tender, a stark contrast to the intensity of moments before. Alastor's agile fingers worked at the restraints, gradually freeing Lucifer's limbs.

"You did so well, my darling," Alastor murmured, his voice a soothing balm. "I'm incredibly proud of you."

Lucifer's heart swelled at the praise, a warmth spreading through his chest that had nothing to do with the…exercise he’d just gotten. As soon as his arms were free, he reached out, wrapping them tightly around Alastor's middle.

"You felt amazing," Lucifer whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I…thank you."

Alastor chuckled softly, running a hand through Lucifer's tousled blonde hair. "The pleasure was all mine, I assure you."

"I don't think so," Lucifer quipped, a hint of his usual wit returning.

Alastor's eyes crinkled with amusement as he reached for a nearby cloth. "Perhaps we can call it a mutually beneficial arrangement, then?"

As Alastor began to clean them both up, Lucifer felt a surge of affection. The careful, almost reverent way Alastor tended to him made Lucifer feel cherished, as he always did under Alastor’s hand.

When his legs were finally free, Lucifer slid to his knees before Alastor, his golden eyes meeting hazel ones with a look of pure devotion. Without breaking eye contact, he leaned forward, his tongue darting out to lick a stripe up Alastor's thigh, collecting his drying come.

Alastor's breath hitched, his hand instinctively moving to Lucifer's hair. "Darling, you don't have to—"

"I want to," Lucifer insisted softly, continuing his ministrations. He savored the taste of Alastor on his skin, feeling a thrill at the slight tremor in the Dom’s usually steady legs.

"Oh, you wicked thing," Alastor's fingers tightened in Lucifer's hair, his breathing growing more ragged. "So eager to please."

Lucifer hummed in agreement, relishing the praise as he worked his way higher. When he finally reached Alastor's cock, he paused, looking up through his lashes.

"Go on, then," Alastor encouraged, his thumb brushing Lucifer's cheek. "Show me how thorough you can be."

With a small nod, Lucifer set to his task, his tongue laving over every inch of Alastor's spent cock. He took his time, savoring the intimacy of the moment, the vulnerability Alastor was allowing him to witness.

"That's it," Alastor breathed, his composure slipping just a fraction. "Such a good boy for me."

The praise washed over Lucifer like a warm blanket, making him redouble his efforts.

When he finished, he rested his forehead against Alastor's thigh, suddenly feeling heavy as his body came down from the high.

Alastor's hand moved to cup Lucifer's chin, gently tilting his face up. "Come here, love," he said softly, helping Lucifer to his feet. "Let's get comfortable, shall we?"

With gentle hands, Alastor guided Lucifer across the room to a plush beanbag nestled in the corner. As they sank into its softness, Lucifer found himself pulled against Alastor's chest, enveloped in his warmth.

"How are you feeling?" Alastor asked, his fingers tracing soothing patterns along Lucifer's back.

"Wonderful," Lucifer burrowed closer, basking in the afterglow and the safety of Alastor's embrace.

Lucifer nestled closer, his fingers tracing the edge of Alastor's robe. He glanced up, meeting those captivating hazel eyes. "May I?" he asked softly, tugging gently at the fabric.

"Of course, darling." Alastor's lips curved into a fond smile.

With reverent care, Lucifer untied the sash, letting the robe fall open. His hands ghosted over Alastor's exposed skin, marveling at its warmth and smoothness. He leaned in, pressing a sweet kiss to Alastor's collarbone.

"You're exquisite," Lucifer murmured, his voice tinged with awe.

"As are you, my dear." Alastor chuckled, the sound rich and warm. His fingers carded through Lucifer's tousled blonde hair. "I must say, I'm rather glad we didn't make any grand plans for New Year's Eve. This is far preferable."

"Just us, like this? It's perfect." Lucifer hummed in agreement, his golden eyes half-lidded with contentment. He traced idle patterns on Alastor's chest, basking in their shared intimacy. "Though I wouldn't object to a glass of champagne at midnight."

"I think that can be arranged," Alastor replied, a hint of playfulness in his tone.

***

As they lay entwined, exchanging soft touches and softer words, a sudden buzz broke through the peaceful silence. Alastor reached for his phone, and Lucifer let out a petulant whine.

"Must you?" Lucifer pouted, tightening his hold on Alastor.

Alastor raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes. "That's Charlie's ringtone, darling. It could be important."

That got Lucifer’s attention.

Alastor's hazel eyes scanned the screen, widening slightly as he read. Lucifer propped himself up on an elbow, his earlier contentment giving way to a knot of worry in his stomach.

"Is something wrong?" Lucifer asked, his voice tinged with parental concern.

"Not at all, darling. Your daughter has simply taken it upon herself to make plans for us on New Year's Eve." Alastor let out a soft sigh, his lips quirking into a bemused smile.

Lucifer blinked, confusion replacing worry. "Plans? But I thought we agreed…" He trailed off, remembering their earlier conversation about spending a quiet evening at home.

"It seems Charlie had other ideas," Alastor replied, his tone a mix of amusement and resignation. “In fact, she’s invited herself and Vaggie over for the New Year.”

“Well, that’s not the worst thing—as long as you’re alright with it?”

“Of course,” Alastor nodded, setting the phone aside. “It is your house, after all.”

“Our house.” Lucifer chuckled softly, settling back against Alastor's chest. “As soon as you graduate—how many times do I have to keep reminding you.”

“A few more, at least.” Lucifer felt Alastor rest his chin on top of his head.

❣️Ao3❣️Original Fics (1 Year Free)❣️Tumblr❣️

[darcydarlingdabbles]

At Valentine’s Day~ 21 - For Ever - End

RadioApple🩷Human Au/Age Gap🩷Top!Dom!Alastor

🩷Divorced Dad!Lucifer🩷Explicit

No wedding bells, no vows to say, Just love that lingers, come what may. No perfect path, no grand design, Just you, just me, forever mine.

🩷🩷🩷

❣️Ao3❣️Original Fics (1 Year Free)❣️Tumblr❣️

It wasn’t until near morning that they got to Lucifer’s other surprises. An elegant silver tray laden with gourmet chocolates, plump strawberries, and a crystal decanter of amber whiskey.

"Well, well," Alastor purred, his hazel eyes sweeping over the decadent spread. "You've certainly outdone yourself, darling."

Lucifer felt a flutter in his chest at the praise, a shy smile tugging at his lips. "I wanted tonight to be special," he admitted, reaching for a chocolate-dipped strawberry.

His fingertips brushed Alastor's as he offered it to him.

Alastor leaned in, his gaze locked on Lucifer's as he took a deliberate bite.

A low hum of pleasure escaped him. "Exquisite," he murmured, licking his lips.

Lucifer's breath caught, transfixed by the sight. He longed to close the distance between them, to taste the sweetness on Alastor's lips himself.

Instead, he reached for the whiskey, pouring them each a measure.

"Your turn," Alastor said, his voice a silky command as he selected a dark chocolate truffle. He held it up to Lucifer's mouth, a playful smirk dancing in his eyes.

Lucifer parted his lips, allowing Alastor to place the chocolate on his tongue.

The rich flavor bloomed, mingling with the warmth of the whiskey he'd just sipped.

When he opened them again, Alastor was watching him intently, a fond expression softening his usually sharp features.

Lucifer's heart skipped a beat at the tenderness in that gaze.

"You have a little…" Alastor's voice trailed off as he reached out, his thumb gently brushing the corner of Lucifer's mouth.

The touch lingered, electric and intimate.

Lucifer leaned into the caress, his golden eyes meeting Alastor's. He turned his head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to Alastor's palm.

"Thank you," Lucifer whispered.

The words carried more weight than just gratitude for the gesture. He was thankful for this moment, for the safety he felt in Alastor's presence, for the way the other man saw past his insecurities and made him feel whole.

Alastor's smile deepened, understanding passing wordlessly between them.

He leaned in, closing the distance to capture Lucifer's lips in a kiss that tasted of chocolate, whiskey, and something sweeter still—the promise of a future together.

Alastor shifted, his lean body stretching languidly against Lucifer's side. With a contented sigh, he reached for another chocolate-covered strawberry, his movements slow and indulgent.

"You planned this entire evening suspiciously well, darling," Alastor drawled, eyeing Lucifer. "Should I be worried?"

The blonde’s laugh was warm and rich, filling the intimate space between them.

"Oh, ye of little faith," he teased.

Alastor's lips quirked into a smirk. "Can you blame me?" he paused, letting his gaze roam appreciatively over Lucifer's exposed neck and newly bitten neck, "Romance of this level seems befitting of a proposal to me."

Lucifer felt a pleasant shiver run down his spine at Alastor's scrutiny. He reached for his whiskey, taking a slow sip to gather his thoughts. The amber liquid burned pleasantly, warming him from the inside out.

"Maybe I just wanted to spoil you," Lucifer offered, his voice softer now. He traced the rim of his glass, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious. "Is that so hard to believe?"

"Not at all, my dear," Alastor's expression softened. He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Lucifer's temple. "Though I'd argue you're the one who deserves to be spoiled."

Lucifer felt his cheeks warm at the compliment.

"How about we spoil each other, then?"

Alastor's answering smile was radiant. "I'd like that very much."

They settled into a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional clink of glasses and soft laughter.

Lucifer found himself marveling at how easy it felt, how natural. The weight of his past, the lingering doubts—they all seemed to fade away in Alastor's presence.

As Alastor regaled him with a humorous anecdote from his classes, Lucifer allowed himself to simply bask in the moment. The warmth of Alastor's body against his, the rich flavors of chocolate and whiskey on his tongue, the sound of shared laughter—it all felt like coming home.

Lucifer's golden eyes traced the contours of Alastor's face, catching the flicker of something unspoken behind those sharp hazel eyes.

The laughter from their earlier banter had faded, leaving a charged silence in its wake. Alastor's fingers drummed an absent rhythm against his whiskey glass, his gaze distant.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Lucifer murmured, reaching out to brush a stray curl from Alastor's forehead.

The touch seemed to draw Alastor back to the present, his eyes refocusing on Lucifer with an uncharacteristic vulnerability.

Alastor took a deep breath, setting his glass aside.

"You know," he began, his usually smooth voice tinged with hesitation, "you had a whole life before me. A wife, a child, a home. A future all planned out."

Lucifer felt a tightness in his chest, recognizing the weight of Alastor's unspoken fears. He wanted to reach out, to reassure, but held back, sensing the younger man needed to voice his thoughts fully.

"I suppose I…" Alastor continued, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of the bedsheet. "I can't help but wonder if I can make you as happy, as all that."

Lucifer's heart ached at the uncertainty in Alastor's voice. He'd been so caught up in his own insecurities, he hadn't fully considered how his past might be affecting Alastor.

The realization made him want to pull the other man close, to chase away every doubt with kisses and promises. The flickering firelight cast dancing shadows across his angular features, highlighting the tension in his jaw.

"And you think I want that again?" Lucifer asked gently, his golden eyes searching Alastor's hazel ones.

Alastor hesitated, his usual confident demeanor faltering. He swallowed hard, Adam's Apple bobbing visibly.

"Eventually," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. "I suppose I worry that someday, you'll realize you want more than I can give you."

He reached out, his fingers brushing Alastor's cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin.

"Alastor," Lucifer began, his voice low and earnest, "you’re not a placeholder. Y’know, not a mid-life crisis, either.”

The younger cleared his throat, but he wasn’t looking at Lucifer either.

The blonde shifted, turning fully toward Alastor, cupping his cheek with a gentle hand.

"Alastor, I've done the whole married-young thing. I've raised a child. I don't need to do it again," Lucifer said, his voice steady and sure.

He felt Alastor's slight intake of breath against his palm.

"You're sure?" he asked, his usual confident drawl replaced by a softer, more uncertain tone.

"What I want is…you. Just as you are," Lucifer smiled, his thumb brushing tenderly over Alastor's cheekbone.

The tension in Alastor's shoulders visibly eased, as if an invisible weight had been lifted. Lucifer could almost feel the doubt dissipating, replaced by a warmth that seemed to radiate between them.

Alastor let out a breathless chuckle, his voice softer than Lucifer had ever heard it.

"Lucifer, you're either the most reassuring man I've ever met or the biggest fool," he said, a hint of his usual dry humor creeping back into his tone.

"Likely both," Lucifer smirked, feeling a surge of affection for this complex, captivating man before him.

Alastor's lips curled into a small, genuine smile—not his usual sharp grin, but something softer, more intimate.

He leaned into Lucifer's touch, savoring the warmth of his palm against his cheek.

The moment stretched between them, fragile and precious.

After a beat, Alastor huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head in mock exasperation. His curls bounced slightly with the movement, a few strands falling across his forehead.

Lucifer's fingers trailed lightly along Alastor's jawline, his touch feather-soft.

A sense of weightlessness settled over him, as if years of tension had suddenly evaporated. He found himself asking, his voice barely above a whisper, "What do you want, Alastor? Not in terms of us—just for yourself."

The question seemed to catch Alastor off guard. His eyebrows lifted slightly, and for a moment, Lucifer glimpsed a flicker of uncertainty.

Alastor's gaze darted away, focusing on some unseen point beyond Lucifer's shoulder as he appeared to contemplate the question.

Just as Lucifer began to worry he'd overstepped, Alastor's trademark smirk returned. His eyes, now twinkling with mischief, met Lucifer's once more. "Well," Alastor drawled, his voice taking on that smooth, velvety quality that never failed to send a shiver down Lucifer's spine, "at the moment, I find myself rather desperately wanting a bath."

Lucifer blinked, momentarily thrown.

Alastor chuckled, reaching out to pluck a stray rose petal from Lucifer's hair. He twirled it between his fingers, adding, "Preferably with you, my dear. We seem to have acquired quite the floral collection, and I'd hate to waste all your romantic efforts."

The playful jab made Lucifer's heart swell.

He marveled at Alastor's ability to deflect with humor, even as he recognized the vulnerability beneath the jest. It was, Lucifer realized, Alastor's way of asking for closeness without having to voice the need directly.

Lucifer chuckled, warmth blooming in his chest. He nudged Alastor playfully, his golden eyes sparkling with affection.

"Alright, alright. Anything else?" He kept his tone light, inviting but not pressuring.

Alastor's smirk faltered, and he fell silent.

The playfulness in his eyes gave way to something deeper, more introspective. Lucifer watched, fascinated, as Alastor's long fingers toyed with the edge of the silk sheet, a rare tell of nervousness.

After a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity, Alastor spoke, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

"When I think about my future," he began, then paused, swallowing hard. "About going into forensics, about still performing maybe on weekends—music, I mean—" He looked up, meeting Lucifer's gaze. "Then I think about coming home to you."

Lucifer felt his heart stutter, then race.

The vulnerability in Alastor's usually guarded expression was both exciting and humbling.

Lucifer reached out, entwining his fingers with Alastor's, feeling the slight tremor in the other man's hand.

Gently, he squeezed, offering quiet support.

"I like the sound of that," the blonde murmured. He couldn't help but picture it—Alastor returning home after a day of unraveling forensic mysteries, perhaps still humming a tune from a weekend performance.

The thought filled him with a contentment he hadn't felt in years.

Alastor's shoulders relaxed slightly at Lucifer's words, but his sharp eyes remained fixed on Lucifer's face, searching.

After a moment, he tilted his head, a familiar curiosity creeping into his expression.

"And you?" he asked, his tone carefully casual. "You used to love teaching."

Lucifer felt a pang of nostalgia at the mention of his former career. He'd pushed those thoughts aside for so long, convinced that chapter of his life was closed.

But now, with Alastor's words hanging in the air, he found himself reconsidering.

Could he dare to dream of returning to that passion?

"I think…" he began, his voice soft but tinged with growing excitement, "I'd like to go back to it. Maybe return to the university."

As the words left his mouth, Lucifer felt a weight lift from his shoulders. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed the academic world until this moment.

His mind raced with possibilities—lectures to prepare, research to dive into, young minds to inspire.

"My dear," Alastor's eyes lit up, a slow, genuine smile spreading across his face. "I would very much like to help you do that."

"You would?"

"Of course," he said, reaching out to trace a finger along Lucifer's jawline. "I can already picture you, back in your element, captivating a lecture hall. It's quite…alluring."

Lucifer's chest swelled with a warmth that had nothing to do with the whiskey. He let out a contented sigh, sinking deeper into the plush pillows.

The gentle crackling of the fire and Alastor's steady presence beside him created a cocoon of comfort he hadn't known in years.

A devilish smirk tugged at Lucifer's lips as a thought occurred to him.

"Y'know," he began, his voice playful, "if we do get married…" He caught sight of Alastor's raised eyebrow and quickly added, "For paperwork reasons, obviously." Lucifer said quickly, "…then you would be Charlie's stepdad."

Alastor, who had just taken a sip of whiskey, snorted into his glass.

The unexpected sound startled a laugh out of Lucifer, and soon both men were chuckling, the tension of the moment dissolving into levity.

"My, my," Alastor wiped a tear from the corner of his eye."Aren't we getting ahead of ourselves?" His smile, however, held no judgment—only fondness and a hint of intrigue.

"Perhaps," Lucifer admitted softly. Then, unable to resist, he added with a grin, "But it's fun to imagine, isn't it?"

Alastor's thumb traced gentle circles on Lucifer's hand as he considered this.

After a moment, he asked with a mischievous glint in his eye, "How long until you think Charlie and Vaggie will want us to babysit?"

Lucifer's eyes widened at Alastor's unexpected question, surprise and amusement dancing across his features. He tilted his head, studying his partner's face intently.

"Are you…comfortable with the idea of babysitting?"

Alastor's lips curled into his signature smirk, a hint of gaiety in his hazel eyes.

"Oh, I'm fine with children," he drawled, reaching for a nearby strawberry and twirling it between his long fingers. "As long as I can give them back at the end of the day."

A chuckle bubbled up from Lucifer's chest, warm and genuine. He shook his head in amused disbelief, golden eyes crinkling at the corners.

"So," he teased, "you're skipping being a dad and going straight to being a grandfather?"

The notion struck Lucifer as absurdly delightful. Here they were, sprawled amidst rumpled sheets and the remnants of their decadent treats, casually discussing potential grandparenthood.

It was so far from where he'd imagined his life going, and yet it felt wonderfully, inexplicably right.

Alastor's response was to recline further into the plush pillows, his lean form a picture of relaxed elegance.

"Much more efficient," he quipped, biting into the strawberry with a satisfied hum.

Lucifer couldn't help but marvel at Alastor's easy confidence, the way he seemed to take even the most unexpected turns in stride.

Lucifer chuckled softly, his body gravitating towards Alastor as if pulled by an invisible thread. He reached out, fingers seeking the familiar warmth of his lover's hand.

Their fingers intertwined, a perfect fit, and Lucifer tugged gently, drawing Alastor closer.

"You're ridiculous," Lucifer murmured, his voice a low, affectionate rumble.

Alastor's lips quirked into a teasing smile.

"You love it," he countered, allowing himself to be pulled into Lucifer's embrace.

As they settled into each other's space, Lucifer felt a wave of contentment wash over him. The heat of Alastor's body against his own, the lingering aroma of chocolate and whiskey—it all felt wonderfully, achingly right.

"I do," Lucifer admitted, his free hand coming up to trace the curve of Alastor's jaw. "More than I ever thought possible."

The silence that fell between them was comfortable, weighted with unspoken understanding.

Alastor's thumb traced lazy circles on the back of Lucifer's hand, a soothing rhythm that matched the steady beat of their hearts.

There was no need to rush, no pressure to fill the quiet with unnecessary words.

Lucifer found himself studying Alastor's profile, admiring the way the firelight caught the edges of his curls, turning them to burnished copper.

He marveled at how this enigmatic man had become his anchor, his safe harbor in a world that had once felt treacherous and uncertain.

"You know," Alastor murmured, his voice a low, velvety rumble, "I never thought I'd find myself here." His lips curved into a wry smile. "Sprawled in a luxurious hotel suite, wrapped around a devastatingly handsome man on Valentine's Day, of all things."

"Life does have a way of surprising us, doesn't it?" Lucifer chuckled softly.

Alastor hummed in agreement, shifting slightly to meet Lucifer's gaze. His hazel eyes were warm, filled with an affection that made Lucifer's breath catch. "Indeed it does, my dear. Indeed it does."

As the night deepened around them, Alastor tilted his head up, a soft smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "Happy Valentine's Day, my dear," he said, his tone playful yet undeniably tender.

"Happy Valentine's Day, love," Lucifer murmured against his skin, the word 'love' falling from his lips as naturally as breathing.

Alastor's eyes fluttered closed at the contact, a contented sigh escaping him.

"You know," he said, a hint of mischief creeping into his voice, "I think I could get used to this whole 'romance' business."

Lucifer chuckled, pulling back just enough to meet Alastor's gaze. "Oh? And here I thought you were allergic to sentiment."

"Perhaps you're simply a bad influence," Alastor quipped, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on Lucifer's arm.

As they lay there, tangled in soft sheets and each other, Lucifer found himself marveling at the unexpected turn his life had taken. He thought of Charlie, of eventual grandchildren, of quiet evenings grading papers while Alastor composed at the piano.

The future stretched out before them, unconventional and bright with possibility.

"What are you thinking about?" Alastor asked, his voice soft with curiosity.

Lucifer smiled, pressing another kiss to Alastor's temple. "Just…us. Our future. It's going to be quite the adventure, isn't it?"

"My darling," Alastor's answering grin was positively wicked. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

❣️Ao3❣️Original Fics (1 Year Free)❣️Tumblr❣️

[darcydarlingdabbles]

At Valentine’s Day~ Part 19 - Just Us

RadioApple🩷Human Au/Age Gap🩷Top!Dom!Alastor

🩷Divorced Dad!Lucifer🩷Explicit

Forget the world, let it fade away, Hold me close, let me stay.  No rush, no world beyond our touch— Just us, my love, just us.

🩷🩷🩷

❣️Ao3❣️Original Fics (1 Year Free)❣️Tumblr❣️

The clink of glasses and murmur of conversation had softened to a gentle hum, like the last notes of a symphony fading into silence.

Alastor leaned back in his chair, swirling the amber liquid in his crystal tumbler. The candlelight caught the facets, sending prisms dancing across the crisp white tablecloth.

He inhaled deeply, the scent of roses and champagne mingling with the earthy musk of tuxedos and perfume.

The weight of the evening pressed down on his shoulders, a tangible thing. Not entirely unpleasant, but heavy nonetheless.

Alastor's gaze drifted across the now-sparse dance floor.

A few couples still swayed together, lost in their own worlds. His lips quirked in a small smile.

Young love. So earnest, so hopeful.

He’d never been the starry-eyed sort…but Lucifer was. He deserved to be, after all he’d been through.

Alastor took another sip of his drink, savoring the burn.

The wedding had been a resounding success, of course. He'd ensured every detail was perfect, from the placement of each flower to the timing of the toasts.

And yet…

A quiet sigh escaped him. The triumph felt hollow somehow, like applause echoing in an empty theater.

"You look far too pensive for a celebration, sweetheart."

Alastor's head snapped up, meeting Lucifer's golden gaze.

"Merely basking in a job well done," Alastor replied smoothly, his smile sharpening. "Though I must say, the view has certainly improved in the last few moments."

"Flatterer.” Lucifer chuckled, sliding into the chair beside him. “I'd almost think you were trying to distract me."

Alastor arched an eyebrow. "From what, pray tell?"

"Oh, I don't know," Lucifer mused, leaning in conspiratorially. "Perhaps from the fact that you've been sitting here alone instead of showing me those legendary dance moves of yours?"

A flash of…something flitted across Alastor's face, too quick to catch. He recovered instantly, his smile never wavering.

"My dear, if you wanted a dance, you need only ask," he purred, rising to his feet with fluid grace. He extended a hand, eyes glinting with challenge. "Shall we?"

Lucifer's eyes widened slightly, surprise and pleasure crossing his features. He reached out, his fingers hesitating for just a heartbeat before entwining with Alastor's.

"I thought you'd never ask."

As Alastor led him towards the dance floor, his stomach twisted with an unfamiliar anxiety. The forgotten Valentine's Day loomed in his mind, a glaring oversight he couldn't shake.

Would Lucifer bring it up first?

The music shifted to a slow, sultry melody as they reached the center of the floor.

Alastor pulled Lucifer close, one hand settling on his waist, the other still clasping Lucifer's fingers. The warmth of Lucifer's body against his was enchanting, but Alastor couldn't fully relax into the moment.

"You've been avoiding me all night, darling," Lucifer said softly, his golden eyes searching Alastor's face.

"Avoiding you? My dear, why would I ever do such a thing?"

But even as the words left his mouth, Alastor knew they rang hollow. He'd been expertly dodging Lucifer all evening, busying himself with last-minute details and mingling with guests.

Anything to avoid confronting the weight of his own failure.

“Maybe,” Lucifer's lips quirked into a knowing smirk. "Because you got hit with a bouquet and looked like you'd seen a ghost."

A flash of heat crept up Alastor's neck. He hadn't realized his reaction had been so transparent.

Desperate to change the subject, he tightened his grip on Lucifer's waist and smoothly guided him into a turn.

"Nonsense," Alastor replied, his voice a low purr. "I was simply startled by Charlie's impeccable aim. Now, shall we make use of this lovely music?"

Without waiting for a response, Alastor swept Lucifer across the dance floor.

The music swelled around them, slow and sweet, enveloping them in its sensual embrace. Alastor focused on Lucifer's body against his, anything to distract from the nagging guilt in the back of his mind.

Lucifer followed his lead effortlessly, his body relaxing into Alastor's hold.

"You know," he murmured, "you're quite the dancer when you're not overthinking things."

Alastor's step faltered for a split second before he recovered.

Was he really that transparent? He forced a chuckle, spinning Lucifer out and then drawing him back in close.

"My dear, I assure you, the only thing on my mind right now is you."

It wasn't entirely a lie.

Lucifer consumed his thoughts—but not in the way he wanted him to.

Instead of basking in the moment, Alastor's mind raced with all the ways he might have disappointed his partner. The forgotten Valentine's Day loomed largest of all, a glaring oversight he couldn't shake.

As they glided across the floor, Lucifer suddenly pulled Alastor closer, their chests pressing together.

"Is that so?" Lucifer whispered, his golden eyes searching Alastor's face. "Because you seem…distracted."

"Nonsense," Alastor swallowed hard, fighting to maintain his composure. "I'm simply savoring this moment with you."

As if to prove his point, Alastor expertly maneuvered them into a graceful turn. Lucifer's body followed his lead perfectly, as if they were two parts of a single, fluid entity.

He allowed his gaze to drift over Lucifer's features, noting the slight flush on his cheeks, the way his blonde hair had become slightly disheveled over the course of the evening

As always, Lucifer was breathtakingly beautiful.

Gradually, the world around them began to fade. The chatter of the remaining guests receded to a distant murmur, and the bright lights of the reception dimmed in Alastor's perception.

All that remained was the soft, warm glow of candles, casting intimate shadows across Lucifer's face.

Alastor's heart raced, torn between the comfort of Lucifer's familiar warmth and the gnawing anxiety that threatened to consume him. He wanted nothing more than to lose himself in this dance

"So, do you want to talk about why you've been avoiding me?"

Alastor huffed a small laugh, hoping to mask the sudden tightness in his chest. "What a ridiculous notion," he replied, his tone light but strained. "I am simply overwhelmed by all the attention I've received tonight."

Alastor hadn't realized his discomfort had been so obvious. Was he truly that transparent, or was Lucifer simply getting that attuned to his moods?

The thought both thrilled and terrified him.

Lucifer's hand tightened slightly on Alastor's shoulder, a gentle pressure that felt like both an anchor and a question.

"You know you can't fool me that easily," he said softly, a hint of his usual playfulness returning to his voice.

Alastor's lips quirked into a small smile despite himself. "Can't I?" he retorted, executing another perfect turn to buy himself a moment to collect his thoughts.

“You know, she meant to throw it to you, right?” he asked, his voice low enough that only Alastor could hear.

Alastor sighed dramatically, his shoulders tensing beneath Lucifer's touch.

"Oh, perish the thought," he replied, forcing a lightness into his tone that he didn't quite feel. "I'm certain it was an accident."

A smirk played at the corners of Lucifer's lips, his gaze never leaving Alastor's face.

"Charlie's aim was dead-on," he murmured, a hint of pride coloring his words.

The dance slowed, the music shifting to something softer, more intimate.

Lucifer tilted his head, studying Alastor with an intensity that made him want to look away. But he held that golden gaze, refusing to back down even as his heart raced.

"You've been tense all night," Lucifer observed, his voice barely above a whisper. His thumb traced small circles on Alastor's chest, a soothing gesture that only served to heighten Alastor's awareness of every point of contact between them.

Alastor swallowed hard—the last thing he wanted was for Lucifer to think him weak or uncertain. Or that he was being insensitive to Lucifer’s needs…again.

But, if there was one thing that he had learned…it was worse to attempt to lie to the man he loved.

Alastor met Lucifer's gaze, his usual confident smirk faltering. "Lucifer, I…forgot."

His fingers tightened on Lucifer's waist, betraying his nervousness.

“Forgot what?" Lucifer's brow furrowed, confusion replacing the earlier concern in his eyes.

The “You are the Reason” swelled around them, but Alastor barely heard it. His focus narrowed to Lucifer's face, to the flecks of gold in his eyes that seemed to shimmer in the dim light.

He forced himself to maintain eye contact, even as he felt a flush creeping up his neck.

"Valentine's Day," Alastor admitted, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. "I didn't plan anything."

As soon as the confession left his lips, Alastor wanted to take it back.

He'd faced down countless challenges with unwavering confidence, yet here he was, laid bare by a simple oversight. The urge to deflect with humor, to brush it off as inconsequential, was almost overwhelming.

But he resisted, knowing Lucifer deserved his honesty.

Then, to Alastor's surprise, a quiet laugh escaped Lucifer.

It wasn't mocking, but soft and warm, like sunlight breaking through clouds.

"That's what's got you twisted up in knots?" Lucifer asked, his voice tinged with gentle amusement.

Alastor felt his jaw tighten, a scowl forming on his face. His usual smooth demeanor cracked, revealing a glimpse of the insecurity beneath.

"You say that like it's not a colossal failure," he retorted, unable to keep the edge from his voice.

"Alastor," Lucifer shook his head, his expression softening. His hand, still entwined with Alastor's, gave a reassuring squeeze. "you were keeping a whole wedding together. I knew you wouldn't have time."

The gentle understanding in Lucifer's voice made Alastor's chest tighten.

He'd expected disappointment, perhaps even anger. This acceptance was…disarming.

Still, the nagging doubt persisted.

"Still," Alastor frowned slightly, his gaze dropping to their joined hands, "you deserve better."

Lucifer's grip on his hand tightened, drawing Alastor's attention back to his face.

When their eyes met, Lucifer's were filled with an unwavering certainty that made Alastor's breath catch.

"Don't be ridiculous," Lucifer said, his voice low and steady. "You think I'd get upset over that?"

The weight of Lucifer's words, the warmth in his eyes, began to chip away at the wall of anxiety Alastor had built. He felt himself starting to relax, the tension in his shoulders easing ever so slightly.

The music swelled, a slow, romantic melody that seemed to wrap around them.

With a sudden glint in his eye, Lucifer took advantage of Alastor's momentary lapse.

In one fluid motion, he swept Alastor into a dramatic dip, strong arms supporting him effortlessly.

Alastor's eyes widened in surprise, a rare moment of being caught off-guard.

The chandelier above them blurred into a halo of light, and he found himself staring up into Lucifer's face, now adorned with a playful smirk.

"You know," Lucifer murmured, his voice low and teasing, "I really did think you were avoiding me."

The shift in tone was palpable, like a sudden gust of warm air. Alastor felt an unfamiliar heat rise in his cheeks, his heart quickening at their proximity. He steadied himself, one hand gripping Lucifer's shoulder, the other still clasped in his partner's.

"Because of the bouquet incident?" Alastor managed, trying to regain his usual composure as he was put up on his feet.

Alastor exhaled slowly, steadying himself.

The playful moment had passed, and a sudden weight settled in his chest. His fingers tightened around Lucifer's, the warmth of skin against skin grounding him.

"It's just that," he admitted, his voice quieter now, barely audible above the gentle swell of music, "I've been thinking…about us. About what you want."

He'd never been one to shy away from difficult conversations, but this felt different. More vulnerable.

"What I want?" Lucifer tilted his head, a small furrow appearing between his brows.

Alastor swallowed hard, fighting the urge to look away. The gentle sway of their dance continued almost on autopilot.

"Yes," Alastor managed, his usual smooth cadence faltering slightly. "I've been wondering if…if what we have is enough for you."

Alastor hesitated, his fingers tightening imperceptibly around Lucifer's hand.

The music seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the sound of his own heartbeat thundering in his ears. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he needed to say.

"A real, normal life," Alastor finally forced out, his voice barely above a whisper. "A future. Marriage. Children. A home." He paused, meeting Lucifer's gaze with a mixture of vulnerability and determination. "Everything you had before."

Alastor watched as a myriad of emotions flickered across Lucifer's face, too quick to decipher.

Their dance slowed to a near-standstill, bodies still pressed close but no longer swaying to the forgotten melody.

The silence stretched, taut as a bowstring, until Lucifer finally spoke.

"Alastor." The way he said it, soft and loaded with meaning, made the younger man’s stomach tighten.

There was a weight to it, a gravity that seemed to pull at something deep within him.

Alastor fought the urge to fidget, to look away, to do anything to break the tension that suddenly crackled between them. Instead, he held Lucifer's gaze, waiting for whatever came next with anticipation and dread coiling in his chest.

Lucifer exhaled slowly, a soft sigh that seemed to carry the weight of years. He shook his head, a rueful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"I don't want what I had before," he said, his voice low and sincere.

"You…don't?" Alastor asked, unable to keep the note of disbelief from his voice.

Lucifer's grip on Alastor's hand tightened slightly, as if anchoring himself.

He cleared his throat, a flicker of vulnerability passing across his features before his expression settled into something more resolute. When he spoke again, his words were careful, measured.

"What I had before was…well it was real for a while, but it turned into a facade," Lucifer admitted, his golden eyes never leaving Alastor's face. "A picture-perfect life that looked good from the outside, but left me feeling hollow." He paused, swallowing hard. "With you, I've found something real. Something that challenges me, excites me, makes me feel like I don’t want to sleep through my life."

Alastor hadn't dared to hope, hadn't allowed himself to imagine that Lucifer might want the same things he did.

Lucifer's gaze softened, tenderness and determination flickering in his golden eyes. With a gentle tug, he pulled Alastor closer.

Their foreheads nearly touched, creating an intimate bubble in the midst of the emptying dance floor.

"What I want," Lucifer murmured, his breath warm against Alastor's skin, "is you. Exactly as you are."

Alastor's breath stuttered, his usually sharp mind struggling to process the enormity of Lucifer's declaration.

He had known, on some level, that Lucifer cared for him deeply. But hearing it spoken aloud, with such raw honesty, shook him to his core.

His fingers tightened reflexively around Lucifer's, seeking an anchor as his world tilted on its axis. He found himself drinking in every detail of this moment—the warmth of Lucifer's hand in his, the soft glow of candlelight, the faint echo of music fading into silence.

"I…" Alastor began, his usual eloquence deserting him. He swallowed hard, trying to regain his composure. "My dear, I'm not sure you quite understand what you're getting yourself into," he managed, a hint of his trademark dry humor coloring his words despite the vulnerability of the moment.

"Is that…alright?" Lucifer asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Just us?”

The question hung between them, fragile as spun glass.

Alastor felt a surge of tenderness at Lucifer's hesitance, at the way his usual awkwardness melted into something raw and genuine. He let out a slow breath, shaking his head with a soft laugh that was equal parts disbelief and joy.

"Darling," Alastor murmured, his free hand coming up to cup Lucifer's cheek. "I don't think you understand the relief I feel right now."

As the words left his lips, Alastor felt a weight lift from his chest. He hadn't realized how much he'd been carrying, how tightly wound he'd been, until this moment.

The fear of not being enough, of Lucifer wanting something — someone—he couldn't be, dissolved like mist in sunlight.

Lucifer leaned into his touch, a small, tentative smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Relief?" he echoed, a hint of his usual self-deprecating humor creeping in. "Here I thought I was the one who should be relieved. You're not exactly an easy man to pin down, you know."

"My dear," Alastor chuckled, the sound low and warm, "I assure you, I'm exactly where I want to be."

Lucifer's smile bloomed fully, a rare sight that made Alastor's heart full. The soft candlelight gave his partner an ethereal glow.

They swayed together, bodies perfectly in sync as the music washed over them.

Alastor led with practiced ease, guiding Lucifer through slow, languid turns. The world beyond their small circle faded away, leaving only the warmth of Lucifer's body against his, the subtle scent of his cologne, and the gentle pressure of Lucifer's hand in his own.

Time seemed to stretch and blur, each song bleeding into the next.

Alastor lost himself in the rhythm, in the quiet contentment of simply existing in this space with Lucifer. He found his thoughts drifting, imagining countless more nights like this stretching out before them.

<3<3<3

Eventually, the music faded, replaced by the soft murmur of voices and the scraping of chairs.

Alastor blinked, coming back to himself as he realized the reception was winding down. He glanced around, noting the thinning crowd and the mess of abandoned glasses and discarded decorations.

With a resigned sigh, Alastor reluctantly stepped back from Lucifer's embrace. He began rolling up his sleeves, already mentally cataloging the tasks ahead.

"Well," he said, a wry smirk playing at his lips, "I suppose it's time to start cleaning up this mess."

As Alastor's fingers brushed the cuff of his sleeve, Lucifer's hand darted out, catching his wrist. The sudden touch sent a jolt through Alastor, his skin tingling where Lucifer's fingers pressed against his pulse point.

"Actually," Lucifer said, his eyes gleaming with mischief, "you're not doing that tonight."

"Oh?" Alastor raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself. "And why is that?"

He studied Lucifer's face, noting the slight flush on his cheeks and the way his lips quirked up at the corners.

What was his partner going on about now?

Lucifer's smirk widened, and he tugged gently on Alastor's wrist, guiding him away from the scattered detritus of the reception and towards the exit.

Alastor allowed himself to be led, curiosity piqued.

"Because," he said, his voice low and tinged with excitement, "I planned something for us."

He couldn't help but wonder what Lucifer had up his sleeve. It wasn't often that his partner took charge like this, and Alastor found himself pleasantly surprised by the initiative.

As they stepped outside onto the front lawn, the cool night air caressed Alastor's skin, a welcome relief from the stuffy reception hall. His eyes widened as they fell upon a sleek black car idling at the curb, its polished surface reflecting the soft glow of the streetlights.

"Lucifer, what—?" Alastor began, his usual eloquence momentarily deserting him.

Lucifer's smile was softer now, tinged with a hint of nervousness that made Alastor feel even fonder.

"I booked us a suite for the night," Lucifer explained, his voice low and intimate as he opened the car door. The interior beckoned, all plush leather and inviting shadows. "No wedding chaos, no clean up. Just you and me."

Alastor stared at Lucifer, momentarily stunned.

The golden glow of the streetlight caught in Lucifer's hair, softening his features and highlighting the hopeful glimmer in his eyes. A warmth bloomed in Alastor's chest, threatening to overwhelm him.

"You planned ahead?" Alastor asked, “for us?”

Lucifer's grin widened, a touch of his old confidence shining through. "You act as if you're the only one capable of preparing a surprised," he teased, leaning in closer.

Alastor opened his mouth, a witty retort on the tip of his tongue.

But as he gazed into Lucifer's eyes, something shifted within him.

The words that tumbled out surprised even himself.

"I love you."

The moment the phrase left his lips, Alastor felt a jolt of panic. He hadn't meant to say it, not here, not now.

Lucifer froze.

Something unreadable flickered across his face—surprise, uncertainty, hope?—as he drew in a slow, shaky breath.

"What did you just say?" Lucifer's voice was barely above a whisper, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the moment.

Alastor felt heat creep up his neck, his ears burning.

His usually impeccable composure crumbled as he fumbled for words. He parted his lips, then closed them, swallowing hard.

"I—" Alastor started, then cleared his throat, searching for a way to backpedal, to regain control of the situation. But the rawness in Lucifer's eyes made him pause. "I didn't—I mean, I did, but…"

He trailed off, uncharacteristically flustered.

Alastor prided himself on his eloquence, on always having the right words.

But now, faced with the enormity of what he'd just confessed, he found himself at a loss.

A gentle breeze rustled the nearby trees, carrying with it the fading notes of music from the reception.

Alastor became acutely aware of how close they were standing, of the warmth radiating from Lucifer's body. He wanted to reach out, to pull Lucifer close and show him with actions what he was struggling to express with words.

Instead, he stood there, caught between the urge to flee and the desperate need to make Lucifer understand the depth of his feelings.

Lucifer's smirk softened. "Say it again."

Alastor scowled, a flicker of his usual sharp wit returning despite the flush still coloring his cheeks.

"Didn't hear me the first time?" he quipped, aiming for nonchalance but missing by a mile.

"I heard you," Lucifer replied, his grip tightening on Alastor's hand. The shorter man stepped closer, eliminating what little space remained between them. Alastor could feel the warmth of Lucifer's breath ghosting across his skin as their foreheads pressed together. "I just want to hear it again."

Never like this, never so raw and open.

Alastor exhaled sharply, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "I love you."

The words felt both foreign and achingly familiar on his tongue, like a truth he'd always known but never dared to voice.

Lucifer's eyes widened, a kaleidoscope of emotions flickering across his golden irises.

Wonder, disbelief, and a fragile hope that made Alastor's chest tighten.

Something deep within Lucifer seemed to settle, as if a long-held tension had finally released.

With gentle reverence, Lucifer cupped Alastor's face in his hands. His touch was warm, grounding, as he tilted Alastor's chin down to meet his gaze.

Alastor allowed himself to be moved, marveling at how easily he surrendered control to this man.

"I love you too," Lucifer breathed, his words carrying the weight of a vow.

Alastor's breath caught in his throat.

He'd known, of course. He'd seen it in every tender gesture, every vulnerable moment Lucifer had shared with him. But hearing it spoken aloud, seeing the raw honesty in Lucifer's eyes—it was almost too much to bear.

"Well," Alastor managed, his usual smirk softening into something more genuine. "I suppose that settles things rather nicely, doesn't it?"

"I'd say so," Lucifer chuckled, leaning in closer. "Though I wouldn't object to a bit more…settling."

"Alright, darling," Alastor purred, his trademark smirk returning. "Lead the way. I'm rather curious to see what you've planned for us."

❣️Ao3❣️Original Fics (1 Year Free)❣️Tumblr❣️

[darcydarlingdabbles]

At Valentine’s Day~ Part 18 - Let's Dance

RadioApple🩷Human Au/Age Gap🩷Top!Dom!Alastor

🩷Divorced Dad!Lucifer🩷Explicit

Raise a glass, take my hand,

 Spin me once, help me stand.

One last twirl, one last chance,

 Hold me close—let’s dance, let’s dance.

🩷🩷🩷

❣️Ao3❣️Original Fics (1 Year Free)❣️Tumblr❣️

The delicate clink of champagne flutes and the soft rustle of gowns filled the air as guests drifted towards the edges of the garden. Twinkling fairy lights cast a warm glow over the cleared dance floor, transforming it into a magical stage beneath the starry sky.

Lucifer's gaze swept over the crowd, excitement and melancholy tugging at his heart.

His daughter's wedding day—a bittersweet reminder of his own failed marriage. He smoothed down his suit, grateful for its concealing nature as his fingers unconsciously traced the marks Alastor had left on his neck.

Where was Alastor? Lucifer's eyes searched the sea of faces, seeking that familiar, reassuring smile.

A flicker of anxiety twisted in his stomach.

Would they dance tonight?

His musings were interrupted as Anthony sauntered to the center of the dance floor, his infectious grin lighting up the night. T

he lanky man tapped the microphone, the feedback drawing everyone's attention.

"Alright, folks!" Anthony's voice rang out, clear and enthusiastic. "Time to get sappy. Our beautiful brides have chosen a song for their first dance as wives. So grab a drink, grab a tissue, and try not to cry too much."

A ripple of laughter and excited murmurs spread through the crowd.

Lucifer felt a lump form in his throat.

His little girl, all grown up and married. When had that happened?

Charlie and Vaggie stepped onto the dance floor, hands clasped tightly, their faces aglow with soft smiles.

The crowd hushed, all eyes on the newlyweds as they took their positions. Charlie's remade lace suit shimmered under the twinkling lights, a stark contrast to Vaggie's sleek ensemble.

"Ready, my love?" Charlie whispered, her eyes sparkling with barely contained excitement.

Vaggie's lips quirked upward. "With you? Always."

As the opening notes of Sara Bareilles' "I Choose You" began to play, Lucifer's gaze was drawn once more to the edges of the crowd. There, leaning casually against a pillar, was Alastor. Their eyes met across the garden, and Lucifer felt his breath catch.

Alastor's smile softened, a warmth in his gaze that seemed reserved solely for Lucifer.

With a slight tilt of his head, Alastor raised his champagne flute in a silent toast. Lucifer returned the gesture, a shy smile playing at his lips.

Perhaps, Lucifer thought, as the music swelled and the brides took to the floor, perhaps there was still room for new beginnings.

For choosing love, again and again, even when it scared you. His fingers absently traced the chain on his neck once more, a reminder of the safety and acceptance he'd found in Alastor's arms.

As the dance began, Lucifer allowed himself to be swept up in the moment, in the joy radiating from his daughter and her new wife.

And if his gaze occasionally drifted back to Alastor, well, who could blame him?

The music faded, and Anthony's voice cut through the moment. "Now, the moment we've all been waiting for," he announced, his grin audible in his words. "A dance between the one and only Lucifer Morningstar and his baby girl, our radiant bride, Charlie!"

Lucifer stepped forward, his hand extended towards Charlie.

His fingers trembled almost imperceptibly, betraying the emotion he was struggling to contain.

Charlie's eyes welled with tears as she placed her hand in his, her smile bright enough to rival the twinkling lights surrounding them.

"Hi, Dad," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Lucifer swallowed hard, his golden eyes shimmering. "Hey sweetie," he managed, his tone warm despite the slight quaver.

As the opening notes of "Landslide" by Fleetwood Mac filled the air, Lucifer gently twirled Charlie, her lace suit catching the light.

He pulled her back, settling into a steady rhythm, one hand on her waist, the other clasping hers.

It felt like just yesterday she was standing on his toes as he taught her how to dance.

"You know," Charlie said softly, breaking into his reverie, "I used to dream about this moment. Dancing with you at my wedding."

Lucifer's lips quirked into a small smile. "Did I live up to expectations?"

Charlie laughed, the sound light and joyous. "You've exceeded them, Dad. Always."

They swayed in comfortable silence for a moment, the lyrics washing over them.

"I'm so proud of you, Charlie," Lucifer murmured, his voice rough with emotion. "You've become such an incredible woman. Your mother and I—"

He faltered, old pain flashing across his face. Charlie squeezed his hand reassuringly.

"It's okay, Dad. I know."

Lucifer nodded, grateful for her understanding.

As they continued to dance, he allowed himself to truly feel the joy of this moment, pushing aside his usual self-doubt and insecurities.

This was what really mattered.

Lucifer blinked rapidly, trying to clear the mist from his eyes as he gazed at his daughter.

The soft glow of the garden lights seemed to create a halo around Charlie's golden hair, her smile radiant and eyes sparkling with joy.

"You're glowing, sweetie," Lucifer murmured, his voice thick with emotion. He swallowed hard, fighting against the lump in his throat.

"You crying, Dad?" Charlie's eyes widened slightly, a mischievous glint appearing as she studied her father's face.

Lucifer scoffed, even as he felt a telltale wetness on his cheeks.

"Of course not," he protested, attempting to inject his usual self-deprecating humor into his voice. "I'm just…sweating from all these candles."

But as Charlie's gentle laughter washed over him, Lucifer found himself releasing a shaky breath.

Perhaps, just this once, it was okay to let his guard down completely.

Charlie's laughter softened into a warm smile as she squeezed her father's hand. "Thank you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "for everything."

Lucifer's heart swelled, pride and bittersweet nostalgia washing over him. He twirled Charlie once more, her lace suit catching the candlelight.

"Always, Char-Char."

At the edge of the dance floor, Alastor stood watch, a crystal flute of champagne held loosely in his slender fingers. His hazel eyes, sharp behind round wire-rimmed glasses, followed the father-daughter pair as they swayed to the music.

He took a small sip, savoring the crisp bubbles on his tongue. His usual sardonic smile softening almost imperceptibly.

Despite his typical aversion to such overt displays of emotion, he found himself oddly moved by the scene before him.

Charlie's unbridled joy was infectious, her smile lighting up the entire garden.

Alastor's gaze lingered on the older man's face, noting the raw emotion etched there.

Alastor's attention drifted from the dance floor, scanning the crowd until it landed on Vaggie.

She stood off to the side, arms crossed tightly over her chest, her expression carefully neutral. The soft glow of the fairy lights cast shadows across her face, accentuating the tightness in her jaw.

He observed the stiffness in her shoulders and the way her fingers dug into her arms. The prickly bride seemed…unsettled.

And then, Alastor realized.

No father figure stepped forward to claim a dance. She stood alone, an island of stillness amidst the sea of swaying couples.

Alastor considered the situation, curiosity and something almost resembling concern stirring in his chest.

It was an unfamiliar sensation, one that made him shift uncomfortably.

Alastor weighed the potential outcomes of intervening.

He took another sip of champagne, savoring the moment of indecision.

Without allowing himself to overthink the situation, Alastor set his champagne flute on a nearby table and strode purposefully towards Vaggie.

His lips curved into his signature smile, equal parts charm and mischief.

As he approached, Vaggie's eye darted towards him, her posture tensing even further. Alastor could practically feel the waves of suspicion radiating off her.

"You know," he began, his voice smooth as silk, "I'm a terrific dancer."

Vaggie's eye narrowed, her lips pursing into a thin line. For a moment, Alastor wondered if she might simply ignore him.

"No kidding," she scoffed, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Come now, my dear," he purred, gesturing towards the dance floor with a flourish. "Surely you wouldn't deny yourself the pleasure of my company on this most joyous of occasions?"

Alastor extended his hand, his ever-present smile softening almost imperceptibly at the edges. His eyes, typically sharp and calculating, held a glimmer of something gentler as he met Vaggie's gaze.

"Would you care for a dance, dear?" he asked, his voice losing some of its usual showmanship.

Vaggie's eye flicked from Alastor's face to his outstretched hand and back again.

Her brow furrowed, suspicion warring with a flicker of surprise at his unexpected offer. She huffed, shaking her head emphatically.

"Not a chance," she declared, crossing her arms tightly across her chest.

After a beat of tense silence, Vaggie's shoulders relaxed slightly. Her voice dropped, barely audible above the music and chatter surrounding them.

"Thanks," she murmured, her tone softer than Alastor had ever heard it directed at him.

The brunette felt an odd twinge in his chest at her quiet gratitude.

He hadn't expected it to affect him, this small moment of…connection? Understanding? Whatever it was, it left him momentarily wrong-footed, a sensation he wasn't accustomed to experiencing.

Before the moment could stretch into awkwardness, a whirlwind of energy swept between them. Lute, Vaggie's older sister, materialized as if conjured by the tension, her hand shooting out to grasp Vaggie's wrist.

"C'mon, grumpy! You're getting your damn dance," Lute declared, yanking her sister towards the dance floor with surprising strength.

Vaggie's eyes widened in surprise, a groan escaping her lips as she stumbled forward. "Lute, wait—"

But resistance was futile.

Lute spun Vaggie once they reached the center of the floor, and despite herself, Vaggie felt the tension in her shoulders begin to ease. A small, reluctant smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she let her sister lead her through a few more twirls.

Lute grinned, unrepentant. "Someone's gotta get you to loosen up, sis."

Anthony's voice cut through the music, drawing everyone's attention. He stood at the edge of the dance floor, microphone in hand.

"Alright, alright!" he called out, clapping his hands together. "Time for something special! Our lovely brides have a little surprise—they wanna share a dance with their maid and man of honor!"

A burst of excited cheers erupted from the crowd as Emily, Vaggie’s enthusiastic maid of honor and younger sister, bounded across the dance floor.

Her pink bridesmaid dress swirled around her legs as she practically leapt at Vaggie, grabbing her hands with unbridled glee.

"Come on, you grump!" Emily exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Let's show these people how it's done!"

Vaggie couldn't help but laugh, allowing herself to be swept up in Emily's infectious energy. "Easy there, tiger," she cautioned, even as she let Emily twirl her in a dizzying spin. "I'd like to keep my feet on the ground, at least some of the time."

The two women settled into a slightly chaotic but undeniably joyful dance.

Alastor turned to Charlie, his signature smirk firmly in place. The soft glow of the garden lights caught the sharp angles of his face, highlighting the amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Now, now, darling," he drawled, his voice a smooth, velvety timbre that carried easily over the music. "I do believe I should lead."

Charlie raised an eyebrow, her own smile widening. The challenge in her voice was unmistakable as she retorted, "Think so? I am the bride, after all."

Alastor's eyes glinted with mischief as he responded, "Yes, but I am the Man of Honor." In one fluid motion, he took Charlie's hand and spun her gracefully.

The layers of her lace suit flared out, catching the soft garden lights and creating a mesmerizing swirl of fabric.

Charlie let out a delighted laugh, her blonde hair whipping around as she came to a stop.

"Oh, it's on, Alastor," she declared, a competitive fire igniting in her eyes.

Their dance quickly evolved into a playful battle of one-upmanship.

Charlie, never one to back down from a challenge, stepped forward aggressively, her movements sharp and deliberate.

Alastor, matching her intensity, stepped back just as smoothly, his footwork impeccable.

"Not bad for a bride," Alastor quipped, executing a particularly complex series of steps.

Alastor's eyes glinted with mischief as he suddenly dipped Charlie low, his arm strong and secure around her waist. The crowd gasped, impressed by the smooth maneuver.

"How's that for a move, my dear?" he purred, a triumphant smirk playing on his lips.

But Charlie wasn't about to let him have the last word. With a determined glint in her eye, she gripped his shoulders.

“Oh, don’t you dare.”

“Oh, I dare.”

Suddenly, Alastor found himself being dipped by the bride, his eyes widening in surprise.

The onlookers erupted in cheers and applause, delighted by the unexpected turn of events.

Alastor, caught off guard but thoroughly amused, chuckled deeply.

“Well, I might just let you win this one, given it’s your wedding and all.”

As the music drew to a close, they straightened up, both slightly out of breath but grinning from ear to ear.

Charlie's hair was slightly disheveled, her cheeks flushed with exertion and joy.

Alastor's usually impeccable appearance was slightly rumpled, but his eyes sparkled with uncharacteristic warmth.

"I do believe we've given them quite a show," Alastor remarked, adjusting his glasses.

Charlie beamed, her smile radiant. "That was amazing, Al!"

Anthony's voice cut through the buzz of conversation, his enthusiasm infectious as he grinned and waved the brides back to the center of the dance floor.

"Alright, it's time to decide who's next, folks! We've got not one, but two bouquet tosses coming your way!"

Alastor watched with amusement as a flurry of excitement rippled through the crowd.

Eager women gathered in the middle, their faces alight with anticipation. He chuckled softly, content to observe from the sidelines.

Afterall, such a quaint tradition was beneath him.

His self-satisfied smirk vanished as a familiar voice chirped behind him.

"Oh no, you don't, Smiles!" Cherri's hand clamped onto his arm, tugging insistently. "You're not getting out of this one!"

Alastor's eyes widened in alarm. "My dear, I hardly think—"

"Less thinking, more moving!" Cherri laughed, dragging him towards the crowd.

"This is highly unnecessary," Alastor protested, his usual smooth tone tinged with panic. "I assure you, I have no interest in—"

But his objections fell on deaf ears as Cherri maneuvered him into position.

Alastor found himself surrounded by giggling women, feeling decidedly out of place. He caught Lucifer's eye across the room, silently pleading for rescue. To his dismay, Lucifer merely shrugged, amusement dancing in his golden eyes.

Traitor. He’d pay for this.

Vaggie stepped forward, her sleek silhouette a stark contrast to the sea of eager faces.

She turned her back to the crowd, the bouquet dangling from her fingertips. Alastor noticed the slight tension in her shoulders, the way her jaw clenched.

Without fanfare or buildup, Vaggie tossed the bouquet over her shoulder.

It sailed through the air in a lazy arc, petals scattering like confetti.

"Good lord," Alastor muttered, eyeing the projectile warily.

His words were cut short as a blur of movement caught his eye. Emily, face set with fierce determination, launched herself forward.

She soared through the air, arms outstretched, reminding Alastor of a particularly enthusiastic wide receiver.

"MINE!" Emily's triumphant cry rang out as her fingers closed around the stems.

Alastor blinked, impressed despite himself. "Well, I must say, that was rather—"

He didn't get to finish his thought. Emily's momentum carried her directly into his chest, sending them both tumbling to the ground in a tangle of limbs and crushed flowers.

The crowd erupted in cheers and laughter as Emily disentangled herself from Alastor, clutching her prize triumphantly.

Vaggie turned, a smirk playing on her lips as she watched the scene unfold.

"Try not to get a ring on your finger too fast," Vaggie called out, her tone playful but with an undercurrent of genuine concern.

Emily grinned. "No promises," she shot back, waving the bouquet like a victory flag.

Alastor dusted himself off, adjusting his bow tie with as much dignity as he could muster. He caught Lucifer's eye across the dance floor, noting the barely contained amusement on his partner's face.

He was so going to get the older man back.

Charlie stepped up next, her radiant smile lighting up the night. She turned, flashing a sly look over her shoulder that sent a ripple of anticipation through the crowd.

Alastor felt a twinge of unease.

"Ready, everyone?" Charlie called out, her voice bubbling with excitement. She hefted the bouquet, her stance reminiscent of a pitcher winding up for a fastball.

Alastor took an instinctive step backward.

"Oh no you don't, Smiles!" Anthony called out, his voice thick with amusement. "You're not getting out of this one!"

Charlie's eyes locked onto Alastor, her grin widening impossibly further.

She hefted the bouquet, her stance shifting as she took aim. Alastor felt a flutter of genuine alarm in his chest.

Surely…she wouldn’t—

But Charlie did.

She hurled the bouquet directly at Alastor's chest. It sailed through the air with impressive accuracy, smacking into him hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs.

"Oof!" Alastor grunted, his usual composure slipping as he stumbled back a step. His hands instinctively came up, catching the flowers before they could fall.

The crowd erupted into cheers and laughter. Alastor blinked, looking down at the bouquet in his hands with a mixture of shock and chagrin.

Alastor's gaze lifted, scanning the crowd until it landed on Lucifer. The blonde man stood at the edge of the dance floor, one hand covering his mouth, his golden eyes unreadable.

Alastor felt heat rush to his face, his cheeks burning as red as his crimson suit.

"Well, well," Anthony's voice cut through the commotion, thick with mirth. "Looks like our Man of Honor might be walking down the aisle himself soon!"

Alastor cleared his throat, attempting to regain his composure. "I assure you, my dear Anthony, that catching a bouquet does not equate to imminent nuptials."

But even as he spoke, his eyes remained fixed on Lucifer. The shorter man's hand slowly lowered, revealing a small, almost shy smile.

Alastor's breath caught in his throat.

"Maybe not," Charlie chimed in, sidling up to Alastor with a knowing grin. "But it certainly makes you think about things, doesn't it?"

Alastor tore his gaze away from Lucifer, arching an eyebrow at the bride. "My dear, I do believe you planned this."

"Who, me? I would never!" Charlie's laughter rang out, bright and unrepentant. Alastor shoved the flowers back at her.

As the crowd's attention began to drift, Alastor found himself stealing another glance at Lucifer.

The man's golden eyes met his, a silent question hanging between them.

Lucifer's expression remained unreadable, a mask of polite amusement that revealed nothing of his inner thoughts.

Alastor could sense the tension in the air between them, electric and undeniable.

As the crowd began to disperse, returning to their tables and conversations, Alastor felt the weight of the night's unspoken question settle between them.

They'd spent the entire evening circling each other, stolen glances and brief touches serving as poor substitutes for what they both truly desired.

Would they dance together tonight?

The silence stretched between them, fraught with possibility and hesitation. Alastor found himself holding his breath, waiting for a sign, any indication of what Lucifer wanted.

"Alastor," Lucifer began, his voice barely above a whisper. "I—"

But before he could finish, the opening chords of a new song filled the air, and the moment shattered like fragile glass.

Lucifer's gaze darted across the room, catching on familiar faces. His great-aunt Susan, sipping champagne with pursed lips. Professor Mamon, his department head, engaged in animated conversation.

Cousins, colleagues, a tapestry of connections woven through his life.

Alastor followed Lucifer's line of sight, understanding dawning. He leaned closer, his breath warm against Lucifer's ear. "Your world is watching, isn't it?"

Lucifer nodded, almost imperceptibly. "I've kept so much of myself hidden for so long," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "It's…daunting, to consider changing that."

Alastor's fingers brushed Lucifer's, a ghost of a touch. "And yet?"

"And yet," Lucifer echoed, meeting Alastor's eyes with a mix of longing and trepidation, "I find myself wanting to."

The music swelled around them, couples swaying on the dance floor. Alastor felt the weight of Lucifer's struggle as if it were his own.

He wanted nothing more than to sweep Lucifer into his arms, to show the world the depth of what they shared.

But he knew this had to be Lucifer's choice.

"We don't have to decide anything tonight," Alastor said softly, even as his heart ached with the desire to do just that. "This is Charlie's night. Ours can wait."

Lucifer's expression softened, gratitude and something deeper shining in his eyes. "You're extraordinarily patient with me."

"Only because you're worth the wait," Alastor replied, allowing a hint of his usual playfulness to seep into his tone.

<3<3<3

Alastor sank into the plush chair at the back table, his usually impeccable posture faltering slightly as exhaustion crept in.

The cacophony of the reception—laughter, clinking glasses, and the persistent thrum of music — faded to a dull roar in his ears. He loosened his crimson bowtie, allowing himself a moment of dishevelment.

"This has been a lot of dancing." Husk's gruff voice cut through Alastor's reverie.

“Husker, you made it.” Alastor's lips quirked into a wry smile. "Indeed it has, my friend. I daresay I've waltzed enough to last a lifetime."

“More than enough for me.” Husk grunted.

Anthony, sprawled languidly across two chairs, snorted.

Husk rolled his eyes dramatically, but there was a softness in his expression as Anthony tucked himself into his side.

"Some of us prefer to watch from a safe distance," he grumbled, but his arm instinctively wrapped around Anthony's shoulders.

Alastor watched their easy affection, with amusement and a twinge of…something else.

Envy? Longing?

He pushed the feeling aside, focusing instead on the warmth of the champagne still buzzing through his system.

"And what of you, my effervescent friend?" Alastor asked Anthony, arching an eyebrow. "Surely you haven't tired of the festivities already?"

Anthony grinned. "Me? Nah, I'm just gettin' started. But I figured I'd give the newlyweds a break from my dazzling moves. Can't upstage the brides on their big day, ya know?"

Alastor chuckled, grateful for the distraction of their banter. Yet even as he engaged in the light-hearted conversation, his gaze kept drifting back to the dance floor, searching for a familiar silhouette.

Anthony's smirk sharpened as he caught Alastor's wandering gaze.

"So, what's the plan after the wedding, Smiles?" he asked, leaning forward with keen interest. "Got any exciting late-night activities lined up?"

Alastor sipped his champagne, savoring the crisp bubbles on his tongue before answering.

"Likely assisting in the cleanup," he replied, his tone measured. "Making sure the mansion isn't in shambles by morning."

"That's it?" A flicker of disappointment crossed Anthony's face.

Alastor frowned, a crease forming between his brows. "Yes?" he answered, suddenly uncertain.

Had he missed something obvious?

Anthony's grin widened, reminding Alastor of a cat that had just cornered its prey.

"But isn't this your first Valentine's Day with Lucifer?"

The question hit Alastor like a splash of ice water.

His mind raced, cataloging the date, the significance, the expectations.

How had he overlooked something so fundamental?

"I…suppose it is," Alastor admitted, his usual eloquence deserting him.

He glanced around the garden, searching for Lucifer with newfound urgency.

Had his partner been expecting something special?

Had Alastor inadvertently disappointed him?

The weight of his oversight settled heavily in Alastor's chest.

He prided himself on his meticulous planning, on always being two steps ahead. Yet here he was, caught completely off guard on such a significant occasion.

The urge to rectify this oversight, to conjure up some grand romantic gesture on the spot, was almost overwhelming.

Anthony's laughter, sharp and delighted, cut through Alastor's spiraling thoughts.

"Oh. My. God," he wheezed, slapping the table. "The great Alastor, unprepared? Never thought I'd see the day!"

Alastor's eyes narrowed, his usual smooth facade cracking under the weight of Anthony's mirth. He opened his mouth to deliver a cutting retort, but found himself uncharacteristically wordless.

Instead, he took a long sip of champagne, buying time as he desperately tried to formulate a plan.

"I assure you," Alastor finally managed, his voice low and controlled despite the churning in his stomach, "that any oversight on my part is merely…temporary." He adjusted his glasses, a nervous tell he immediately cursed himself for. "Lucifer and I have an understanding. Our relationship transcends such…commercial holidays."

Even as the words left his mouth, Alastor knew they rang hollow.

Lucifer had a romantic streak a mile wide. He would absolutely expect something for their first Valentine's Day together.

How could Alastor have been so blind?

"An understanding, huh?" Anthony smirked, clearly unconvinced. "Well, good luck with that, Smiles. I'm sure Lucifer won't mind at all that you forgot."

Alastor's fingers tightened around the stem of his champagne flute, his usually impeccable posture rigid with tension.

He scanned the floor, searching for Lucifer among the sea of guests.

There—by the dessert table, laughing with Charlie. The soft light caught the gold in Lucifer's hair, his eyes crinkling with genuine mirth. The sight, normally so heartwarming, now filled Alastor with dread.

"I didn't…forget," Alastor insisted weakly, more to himself than Anthony. "I simply…overlooked the timing."

"Same difference, pal. Face it, you're screwed." Anthony snorted.

Perhaps he could whisk Lucifer away for an impromptu midnight picnic?

A hastily purchased gift from a 24-hour store? Tacky and impersonal.

The more Alastor thought, the more his usual confidence crumbled.

"You know," Anthony drawled, leaning in conspiratorially, "I hear the coat closet's pretty roomy. Maybe a quickie would smooth things over?"

"Anthony!" Alastor hissed, scandalized despite himself.

"Hey, just trying to help," Anthony shrugged, his grin widening. "Tick Tock, Smiles. Clock's running out on your perfect boyfriend image."

Alastor swallowed hard, watching as Lucifer made his way across the dance floor. Their eyes met, and Lucifer's smile softened, becoming something private and warm.

It made Alastor's heart clench with both affection and guilt.

"I've got to do something," Alastor murmured, half to himself.

"Yeah," Anthony agreed, his tone uncharacteristically gentle. "You do."

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