#AtValentinesDay-DarcyDarling

[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 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 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❣️