#best office space in Great Neck

[ovgreatneck]

The landscape of work environments has evolved significantly, with more businesses and entrepreneurs looking for flexible and convenient workspace solutions. Whether you're a freelancer, a start-up, or an established company, having the right office space can dramatically affect your productivity and success. In this post, we will examine the benefits of various types of office rentals—private offices, virtual offices, shared office spaces—and what you need to consider when seeking office rentals near Great Neck.

1. Understanding Private Offices in Great Neck: Privacy and focus are two essential factors for professionals who deal with sensitive information or require uninterrupted concentration. Renting private offices affords you dedicated space where confidentiality is maintained while providing all the amenities needed for day-to-day operations. When selecting Great Neck private offices, consider factors like accessibility, technology infrastructure, and the atmosphere they foster for both clients and staff.

2. Advantages of Virtual Offices in Great Neck: For those who work remotely but need an official business address or occasional access to meeting rooms, virtual offices are an ideal choice. Offering flexibility without the cost of a full-time physical office space, virtual offices provide essential services such as mail handling, telephone answering services with a professional receptionist, and available on-demand workspace at Office Villas | Offices, Coworking & Hot Desks.

3. The Rise of Shared Office Spaces: Shared office spaces have become increasingly popular due to their adaptability and community environment—a critical aspect for many entrepreneurs and creative minds. Shared office serving Great Neck offers affordability along with opportunities for networking with other professionals from diverse backgrounds. These coworking areas may come equipped with high-speed internet access, common areas for collaboration or relaxation at Office Villas | Offices, Coworking & Hot Desks shared offices. Great Neck office spaces at Office Villas | Offices

4. Selecting Your Ideal Space at Great Neck Office Rentals: Before renting an office space in Great Neck at Office Villas | Offices, Coworking & Hot Desks office rental company or elsewhere providers offer various options that cater to different needs—from hot desks to fixed desks within coworking environments to individual spaces tailor-made for your business growth mindset.

5. Tips When Searching For Shared Office Spaces For Rent in Great Neck: As you explore great neck shared office spaces it is important to visit potential locations personally to get a true feel of the ambiance and facilities offered—may it be natural lighting conducive to productivity or ergonomic furniture ensuring comfort during long working hours.

In conclusion when seeking the best fit in terms of functionality location budget easing into a new workspace becomes seamless especially within vibrant hubs like those provided by Office Villas | Offices Coworking & Hot Desks These solutions present not just practicality but a community that can support reinforce your journey as a professional Remember that while amenities convenience are imperative never underestimate the power innovative collaborative environments play in fostering business progress

For More Details: https://office-villas-great-neck.business.site/

Contact Us:

Office Villas | Offices, Coworking Address: 185 Great Neck Road, 4th Floor, Great Neck, New York 11021,US Phone: (516) 216-9884 Company Email: info@officevillas.com

[heartlesscorpse]

Sleepy Cuddles w/ Pyramid Head 🩸🔪 △

Pyramid Head brainrot goes brrr. Pyramid Head brainrot is forever eternal, anyway — yeah I have yet another post of Pyramid Head because I’m bored, my brain had ideas, and I NEED him so I feel like catering myself once again w/ Pyramid Head. That’s all I can say. OH YEAH might I add, rather than Silent Hill’s PH like my last few posts this time I decided this time around I’m gonna do DBD Pyramid Head. Also a heads up for the small nsfw warning in this post.

Doing back to back trials or maybe more is always tiring. Leaves you all sleepy asf, grumpy, and really not wanting to be thrown into another trial for the entity’s amusement.

Usually you’d try sleeping around the campfire or take short naps, literally whenever you have the chance to do so before the entity drags you off to another random map, and it can get pretty annoying when you don’t get no breaks to rest. >:((

And what’s better than looking for none other than your favourite tall killer, the Executioner for some cuddles???

If you need cuddles or sleep, Pyramid Head’s always there in Midwich waiting for you whenever he’s not busy with any trials of his own. :))

He loves earning small visits from you while the both of you have some time to spend when the Entity isn’t calling for either of you for the next trial.

The two of you meet up usually in the halls of the school or some random classroom if Pyramid Head happened to be looking for you first. The nurses office is where the two of you kick back and relax in each other’s company most often, because that’s where all the old mattresses are left on the rusted metal bed frames.

The beds are way too small to fit with Pyramid Head’s large figure so the both of you would settle with stripping off all the mattresses from the bed frames, lie them all on the floor stacked atop each other by 2 by 4 for bigger space.

Cuddles w/ the big guy are the fucking best. And he enjoys cuddling you too.

Because of the huge height differences between the both of you, he thinks you’re the perfect size so he could gently squeeze you in his arms while you’re all curled up with him.

And don’t forget about them man tiddies, his tiddies are the best for a pillow but in the end, you’re waking up with a sore neck. But it’s fucking worth it. >:))

It’s also soothing listening to his breathing from his rusted helmet or the soft growls rumbling from his chest, which kind of reminds you of thunder rolling through the sky in the distance.

As I mentioned the last time in one of my other hc posts with Pyramid Head, he’s a fuckin’ walking heater and all that body heat radiating from him while you’re pressed against him with his arms around you is just pure bliss.

Feels so nice to pass out in his arms especially with all that exhaustion and the multiple trials you went through still racking your brain, and he likes it how easily you conk out the moment you get comfy with him just in a matter of seconds.

On some small occasions there’s times where Pyramid Head is also hornee and wanting help with finding some relief, once granted consent he’ll keep in mind how tired you are after all those trials you went through of course, this time around he’ll restrain himself from going too rough on you and will opt to fucking you gently and at a slower pace. Getting some relief out of this and also helping you destress, a small little reward for doing such a great job. <33

After cuddles and naps with Pyramid Head you’re feeling all rejuvenated and energized to keep pushing on through more trials the entity has yet to throw at you.

Sometimes it’s not enough and Pyramid Head will decide to keep you for a little while longer, drawing the entity’s attention in some instances and having to fight with them in order to prevent the entity from ripping you away from his grip.

Few minutes wasn’t enough he wants more time with his precious. Fuck off. >:((

Besides the exhaustion or stress from everything in the entity’s realm, you still visit Pyramid Head whenever just for more cuddles or naps to give the big guy some company and spend more time with your beloved Executioner.

🥩⋆♱✮♱⋆🔪 🩸

[cheriladycl01]

Kinktober 08/10/2024 Lewis Hamilton- Voice Kink

Plot: Lewis Hamilton can sing, it’s a known fact. And he has an incredible voice even when talking. But you can’t help but get turned on by the simplest of phrases.

Warnings: Kinktober SMUT, fingering, voice kink, p in v 18+ Minors DNI

Lewis’ voice to you was like treacle or honey, just a substance so sickly sweet that it made your teeth hurt.

It was so soft and level that whenever you were sad it cheered you up just listening to how calm and collected he sounded.

He had that slight American twang to the British, not to the point it was considered annoying but it almost added to the love for his voice.

Naturally you could listen to Lewis talk for hours, which was actually in hindsight a great thing for yours and Lewis’ relationship. You were not a talker at all, and you loved to listen to what Lewis had to say as it was always something worthy listening too. But then you were so in awe with him that you think you’d listen to him all day even if he were talking utter rubbish.

But … when you guys were intimate it was a whole other level. You’d do anything to here his voice drop just an octave and whisper in your ear, telling you how much of a good girl you’d been for him. Or all the times he’s talked you through your orgasms.

Today however you’d been so busy with work. You’d had the day in Paris modelling and then made the flight down to Nice for lunch with some friends and then drove back to Monaco to see your boyfriend. However the minute you’d walked in the door your work phone was ringing and you apologised to Lewis before he could even say hello.

You were in your little office typing away emails to both your manager and companies reaching out to you, when Lewis came padding into the room.

“Baby” Lewis says in his sultry voice that you knew he meant business, but with all the work you were engrossed in you’d not been paying attention and hadn’t heard what he said.

He huffs in mild annoyance, deciding physical contact may be the best way to advance his conversation with you. He comes up hugging you from behind making you jump a little turning to meet his eyes with a smile on your face.

“Hi” you say sweetly and Lewis looks down nuzzling just face into your neck. He says something mumbled into your neck causing a laugh to erupt from you both because it tickled and because you couldn’t understand a word he was saying.

“I wanna here that voice of yours handsome. Come on” you smile playing with the braids in his hair.

“You ignored me” he huffs out crossing his arms with what looks to be a pout in his face.

“Im sorry baby, you know what I’m liked when I get honed in on a task. It’s just me and the task” you offer with a sad look.

“So a task is more important than me” he challenges.

“Of course not baby. Come on, why you being so needy and cuddly. What do you want?” You humm as he hugs you together.

“You” he says softly, pulling your hips back into his crouch so you could feel exactly what it was he wanted.

“Please baby, I’ve waited all day just for you” he says his voice changing back to the sultry voice, the one that made you have the inability to say no and would probably bet you into some bad situations if Lewis wasn’t a good person.

“Yeah, and what have you waited for?” You ask looking at him.

“You, baby please!” He asks. He pulls your chair away from the desk looking over you.

“Come on baby, don’t you want to be my good girl and come to bed with me?” He asks and you shiver at his tone, a wet patch growing in your underwear at the anticipation of what was to come.

Lewis proceeds to pick you up, carrying you from your office space into your shared bedroom, gently placing you on the bed. He joins you kneeling in between your legs, running his hands up and down your body.

“You are so gorgeous. You’re mine right baby?” He asks and you nod.

“Tell me baby, tell me” he whispers into your ear as he leans closer to you. His fingers teasing your entrance making you breathe out.

“Im yours Lew, all yours. Fuck” you cry out listening more to his voice than focusing on the feeling of his fingers toying with your clit leaving breathing little gasps.

“I want you to suck me off pretty girl. Okay?” He commands lightly. Not even making it sounds like he was giving you an order. So you do, your off the bed in seconds on your knees as he positions himself so he’s sat up on the bed.

Your hands grab the base of his hard cock, your hands moving up and down in a fisting motion. And beofre your lips can even come into contact with his tip the dirty talking starts that has you nearly rubbing your clothed pussy against the carpet for some kind of friction.

“Awe your so good for me. You suck me so well” he starts and as your mouth kitten licks a strip of the vein up he moans.

“No one could make me feel like this but you. Making me feel like heaven baby” he moans as he tries to keep his hips in place and not thrust up into your mouth.

You continue your pace. Your mouth round the head while your hands focus on the girthy base, acting like a barrier to stop you from taking more than you could.

“Fuck your so good baby. Such a good girl” he says and your moaning around him from his softly said world that are making you feel like your in cloud nine.

Not longer after, he’s cumming down the back of your throat with no warning. You swallow all he gives you and the praise that comes after has your grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“You treat me so well hunny”

“You’re just so perfect”

“I struck gold with you”

“Come sit on my lap, and I’ll treat you just aswell” was the last thing he said before he helped pulling you up to straddle him.

He helps you sit down on him, your tight wetness clamping around him as you let him sink all the way into you.

Now Lewis loved when you rode him, but when he was in a gentle loving mood like now he always preferred you on your back, where he could control the pace himself and mould you into the most pleasurable position possible.

One leg was stretched up over his shoulder, and the other wrapped around his hip so he was able to get to your deepest spots and have your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Fuck, I’m stretching you out so good” he moans into your ear as he leans forward, breathing heavily with his hot breath fanning your face.

“You’re so pretty. I love you so much” he says as he slowly thrusts in and out. All you can do is focus on his voice as you keep him close to you and he keeps telling you how well your doing.

“Doing so well for me baby” he breathes out and he can feel you tighten around him.

“Always such a good girl for me, right?” He asks as his hands come up to tease your nipples with his left hand. He kisses up your collarbone and across your neck.

“Are you close baby? Can feel you” he moans into your mouth before pulling you into a passionate and loving kiss. Whiny moans coming from the back of his throat.

“So close Lew, please please” you beg holding eye contact with him. His soft brown eyes stay on yours as he talks you through your orgasm. Your hands find your way to his biceps and grip while you release the right coil in your stomach.

The feeling of your pulsing around him has his following after you breathing softly into your ear as he slows jis thrusts down before letting your leg up over his shoulder fall down to his waist.

“So well, you did so well sweetheart” he smiles kissing your lips softly.

“I love that you get off on my voice” he grins with a little laugh making your groan in embarrassment your cheeks flushing red.

“Shut upppp Lew” you laugh with him, pulling him down into another kiss.

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[kittenintheden]

Ethics Review

Dave Matthews voice: I DID IT

Tav (reader) and Astarion pay his old office at the Courts a visit in the middle of the night for funsies and things get spicy.

aka it's the switchy bitchy magistrate roleplay fic

Rating: E Word Count: 5.2k Pairing: Astarion/reader (Tav) Content: 18+, light BDSM elements, sexual roleplay, bitches be switches, dirty talk, spanking, orgasm denial, light edgeplay, oral sex, PIV sex (AFAB reader, not gendered)

AO3 Link

It’s late, but then, it’s always late when you’re out with Astarion these days. By necessity, mostly, but also because it’s the best time for the pair of you to get up to your more unsavory plans without catching the watchful eye of the newly-reformed Fist.

“Where are you taking me?” you laugh as you follow him through a series of dark alleys. “This better not end with me having to send for Gale to get your hand out of another magicked jar.”

“Never going to let me live that down, are you?” He looks over his shoulder and gives you an affectionate smirk.

“Not ever.”

Astarion peers around the corner of a brown brick building, checking that the coast is clear. To you, he says, “You’re lucky I’m such a kind and forgiving soul.”

“Ah, yes,” you agree, wrapping your arms around him from behind and nuzzling his neck. “Two of your most obvious and accurate qualities.”

He chuckles. “We’re almost there. Come on.”

A labyrinthine dozen alleyways later, you’re deposited in an open square, quiet and still. The cobblestones are dark with recent rain, sending their petrichor scent into the air. As you follow Astarion out into the space, you realize where you are. It’s the Courthouse District of the Lower City, where people are tried and held for petty crimes that aren’t suitable for Wyrm’s Rock.

You huff a laugh through your nose and look over at your partner with a raised eyebrow. “Did you need to tell me something? Have a court date you forgot to mention?”

“Hush,” he playfully scolds you, holding a finger up to his lips. “Let me think a moment.”

He peers up at a particular building on the square and furrows his brow, closing his eyes and moving his hands through the air. You fold your arms and watch as he moves his fingers like he’s following a path only he can see, turning corners and raising level by level. At last, he opens his eyes, and points at window on the third floor, two in from the corner.

“That one,” he says.

“That one what?” you prompt.

He grins devilishly. “That…” he points again. “... is my old office. I thought we might pay it a visit.”

“To what end?” you laugh.

“What can I say, I’m feeling a touch nostalgic these days.” He keeps his eye on the window and beckons you to follow closer to the building. “Something about my old haunts is calling to me.”

Behind where he can’t see, you pay him an affectionate smile. In the last year or so since the fall of the Nether Brain, you’ve seen the city rebuilt and gone on your fair share of adventures and quests, always searching for some way to give Astarion back the sunlight you promised him. No luck yet, but there have been promising leads here and there. It’s not a lost cause. Not yet.

The last few months in particular have seen certain changes in your lover. The terror and fear he carried for so long clung to him like a shadow, and ever so slowly it’s beginning to lift. His laugh is more present than before, more real. The intimate moments you share are filled with trust and care, even as you get more comfortable pushing a few boundaries here and there.

Most of all, he’s been remembering. Not everything. There are parts of his past forever lost to him, written over by more years of torment than he ever had of life. But there’ve been flashes every now and again of who he used to be. Some of them he likes, some he loathes. He doesn’t always talk about it, but you know being able to pick up a piece once in a while has meant a great deal to him.

So you follow along with whatever little game he has planned.

He walks along the building, scanning the brick for footholds. Just as he puts his hand on a storm drain and tenses to leap, you halt him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. When he looks back at you, you flick your eyes up toward the window.

“Three up, two in from then end?” you ask.

He nods.

“Allow me, love.”

You hold up your hand and cobalt magic pools in your palm, forming into a sphere. You send it up above you, the arcane eye floating until it finds the correct window before it slips inside. You blink, your own eyes glowing blue as you use your magic to scan the room. It’s certainly an office of some sort.

Astarion takes your hand when you hold it out for him and instantly you’re transported inside the office thanks to a handy little dimensional door spell you picked up on one of your many adventures. You wave away the arcane eye and give Astarion a wink.

He smirks and shakes his head at you. “Take all of the fun out of the thing, why don’t you,” he says through his smile. “Suppose I’ll have to make do with checking that the place isn’t alarmed. Alas.”

The place is, indeed, alarmed. Astarion manages to disarm two common magic wires and one trickier sending stone scattered throughout the room. You reach out through the Weave for any other whispers of magic. Some artifacts and lightly magical office supplies. Nothing worrisome.

Once you’re both satisfied that you won’t end up immediately arrested, Astarion moves to the center of the room, hands clasped behind his back. You’re quiet as he scans the walls, turning in a slow circle as he takes everything in. His fangs flash as he gives a quiet laugh.

“The layout is different, and the color,” he says. “But yes, this is the place.” He furrows his brow slightly and holds out his hands, eyes on the floor. “I… worked here. Me. A magistrate.” His eyes find you and his smile widens. “It was a lie for so much longer than it was a reality. But it was a reality, once upon a time.”

“I’m surprised,” you say, folding your arms and nonchalantly stepping closer. “The way you spoke and dressed when we first met, I thought you must’ve been an Upper City fancy defending-the-powerful type.”

Astarion clicks his tongue at you. “Now, don’t be judgmental. That’s my job.” He waves a hand through the air. “I was quite young in my career, but I was working my way up. All the way to the third floor, thank you.”

You come in to wrap your arms around his waist and lean your head on his shoulder. “I’m proud of you. Genuinely.”

He spreads his fingers over your forearm, pressing his lips to your hair. “Thank you. That’s always nice to hear.” He clears his throat and removes your arms, backing away from you with a toss of his head. “But don’t be too proud. I wasn’t exactly a… what’s the term? Model citizen.”

Astarion begins to walk around the small table with four chairs set in the center of the room.

“Oh?” you say, walking around the other side to mirror him. “Were you terribly corrupt?”

He pauses and tilts his head, shrugging. “‘Terribly’ is such a strong word, isn’t it? Lets just say I may have been known to, ah… sway the odds in my favor.”

You stop and look across the table at him. “What do magistrates even do, exactly? What did you do, specifically?”

“An absolutely stupid amount of paperwork, as I recall,” he says. “At least, I certainly remember hating every scrap that came across the desk. Meting out appropriate punishment for any minor and petty crime you can think of, most of them horrifically boring. But…” He leans over the table and holds up a finger. “... sometimes I got to conduct interviews to determine if crime was worthy of Wyrm’s Rock, and I was very good at getting the verdict I wanted.”

You rather like seeing this side of Astarion. Honest pride, confidence, and authority. The tip of your tongue runs along your bottom lip as you take in your love leaning over that table, dappled in moonlight. Gods, he’s beautiful.

“And how did you do that?” You pop your hip and raise your thumb to your mouth, teasing your lip as you peer up at him through your eyelashes. “Exactly?”

Astarion notices the shift in your demeanor immediately, his own eyes going half-lidded as they track the path of your hand to your mouth. His grin goes predatory and he leans back so he can come around the table to you and pull out the chair.

“Please, darling,” he says, nodding for you to sit. “Let’s talk, you and I.”

You pay him a sultry smile and sink into the chair, which he pushes in under you. Then he walks back around to the other side with his spine straight, hands folded behind his back.

A new game begins.

Astarion rolls out his shoulders as if he’s shedding a coat. When he turns to look at you, he does so down the length of his nose, his hard gaze making it clear that he thinks you beneath him.

You shiver as a thrill runs down your back and attempt to hide it.

He shakes his head above you, tutting. You’ve disappointed him.

Instinctively, you shrink into your chair slightly as he leans forward and places the tips of his fingers against the table in front of him, continuing to lower his face until it’s a mere foot from yours.

“A pathetic display back there,” he says, voice dripping with condescension. “Your associates have hung you out to dry. You do know that…” He tilts his head. “... don’t you?”

You swallow the lump in your throat and drop your eyes. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“Silly little patsy,” he chides as he straightens to glare down at you again. “Such stars in your eyes for friends who would sooner see you burn than stick their necks out for you.”

“I’m not telling you anything,” you say, raising your eyes to him in defiance even as you let a waver of nerves shake your voice.

“What must it be like to be so tragically misguided?” he sneers. It’s like an echo of a man you once knew. One you met on a sunny beach amid burning wreckage.

You blink up at him, eyes going soft. “I can’t betray them.”

“Betray them,” he breathes, huffing a mirthless laugh as he leans one hand onto a nearby chair. “My dear, they are in the next room, and the room after that, giving you up as we speak. No loyalty among thieves, I fear.”

“No,” you gasp. “They wouldn’t.”

Astarion holds a finger up to his lips, shushing you. “I think you know better than that. But fine, have it your way. Don’t give them up to save your own hide. Let me sweeten the pot.”

He turns his body so he can side-sit on the table and put his first knuckle under your chin, lifting it so he can inspect you. The corner of his mouth ticks up. “Gold to line your pockets, perhaps?”

Though you try to stop it, your body betrays you as a bright blush blooms across your nose and cheeks. Astarion’s pupils dilate above you.

“Or something else entirely?” he whispers, tilting his mouth closer to yours. “I’d much sooner send those two cads to Wyrm’s Rock in your place. Help me, and maybe you and I could have a bit of…” His eyes trail down your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, and beyond before he looks back into your eyes. “... fun in celebration.”

“Why would you do that for me?” you whisper back.

He shrugs. “What can I say? I rather like you. Plus, I might get a little kickback in the form of a promotion for bringing in two thorns in the Fist’s side, but that’s neither here nor there.” He rolls his eyes and pays you a flirtatious smile on the last bit.

And that… is your opening.

Your expression grows serious and you note the moment that Astarion’s eyebrows give the briefest twitch of concern.

"You've overplayed your hand, Magistrate Ancunín," you say.

Astarion draws his hand back and gives you a perplexed look. “Have I?”

You smile, then. Calm and dangerous. "I've been sent by the Board of Ethics, you see."

Astarion is thrown by this turn, but he recovers quickly, offering a simpering smile. "Oh? Oh, dear. Seems I've been caught with my pants down."

You stand, holding his eye. "Indeed. Best go place your hands on the desk where I can see them."

With a flourish, he holds his hands up for you to see. No funny business, none at all. He goes to the desk and spreads his palms flat against the polished wood. He must feel the heat of your skin as you come close, only inches away. Inspecting. Considering.

You lean in close to his ear. "Say our word if you'd like me to stop, Ancunín," you whisper.

"Stop what?" he asks.

In answer, you grab his hips and pull them flush against your own with enough force that he gasps from it, genuinely surprised. In his ear again, you whisper, "Teaching you a lesson."

You release him and move to his side. He turns his head to look at you and you can see the openmouthed surprise in his face, but it’s more than that. Surprised, yes, but also open. Interested. Very turned on. You know this look.

This is Astarion’s “oh, we’re doing that thing I like?” look. It’s a good look on him.

You tap a finger on his nearest hand. “Keep these exactly where they are. I must warn you that you face serious repercussions for witness tampering. I have some questions. Answer them to my satisfaction, and I may consider…” Your gaze trails down to the front of his trousers, which are straining. When you meet his eye again, you add, “... reinstatement.”

Astarion tilts his chin down so he can give you a heated look. “Then by all means,” he says, lips parted. “Ask.”

“Hm,” you hum as you trail your fingers over the desk as you walk around to the other side. You mimic his stance with your hands on the table, though yours is one of authority while his is one of awaiting judgment. He tilts his head at you in question, gaze hot. You match it.

“Let’s start with an easy one.” You tilt your head toward the wall without breaking eye contact. “That placard hanging there. What is it?”

He looks and then huffs through his nose. “It’s an oath.”

You tilt your head the other way. “And what does it say?”

Astarion smirks. “‘As an officer of the Court, I will strive to conduct myself at all times with integrity, dignity, and honor.’”

“That’s right,” you say, nodding. “Now tell me, Ancunín… do you feel you’ve conducted yourself in accordance with that oath?”

“Of course,” he answers without hesitation, flashing you a winning smile. “I offered you the utmost dignity and honor, did I not?”

An idea occurs to you and you imagine he catches the twinkle in your eye as you raise one of your hands to click your fingers, a glowing web of pale blue stretching to cage you both inside. Astarion frowns up at it. The moment he realizes what you’ve done, he gives you a look that’s half-exasperated and half-devious.

“What’s this?” he says, playing along.

“A little insurance policy. To ensure your adherence to honesty.” You reach to the collar of your shirt and undo one button. Then another.

Then another.

Astarion struggles to keep his eyes on your face, but when you lean back down onto the table, he can’t help but sneak a peek.

You toy with another button. “Why don’t you tell me what you think about dignity now?”

Astarion bites the corner of his lip to keep his expression serious. He keeps his eyes trained on your chest and seems to carefully consider his words before he says, “I maintain that I respect the dignity of your tits.”

That’s not what he meant to say. He blinks. His eyes flick up to yours. “Your position,” he amends.

His eyes flick back down. “Your position and your tits.”

“Ah,” you say. “Yes, I thought that might be the case. That you might be… what do they say? Dipping your wick in the law office wax.”

You stand and come back around to his side, maintaining your spell as you do. Astarion tracks you all the way back around.

“I’d like you to be as honest with me as you can be,” you say softly. “Not that you’ve much choice. So, in that case, here’s some extra… motivation.”

You’re behind him now and you hear his sharp intake of breath when he feels your palms spread over either side of his hips before moving around to the ties at the front of his trousers. You loosen them just enough to give you space.

Astarion’s knuckles are going white where he presses his fingers against the desk.

Your fingers are soft and warm against his lower abdomen as they dip below his waistband, then inside his underthings. You find what you seek and grip it firmly, fisting the length of him. He bites back a groan and flexes his hands against the wood as you draw him out into the open air. 

“You do keep it cool in here,” you whisper into his ear. You keep your touch light as you tease his cock, just enough to make him want but not nearly enough to satiate the need. “Why is that?”

Astarion swallows and looks at you out of the corner of his eye. “A little discomfort loosens the tongue, I find.” He struggles to keep the breathiness out of his voice and very nearly succeeds. 

Nearly. 

Your smile is wicked. “I see. Well.”

You rest his hardened length against the varnished wood of the desk. It’s cool on his touch-warmed skin and he whines lightly as you leave him there to walk around to his other side, fingertips drawing a trail across his broad back and shoulders.

“In that case, we’ll be leaving that…” You glance down at his cock, then back at his face. “… out in the cold until you’ve answered my questions to my satisfaction. Understood?”

He takes a deep breath through his nose and meets your eye. “Completely.”

“Good.” You move one of his misplaced curls back into place. “If I’m satisfied, I just might let you warm it up again. We shall see.”

“Indeed we shall,” he says, voice dropping deeper, and you can sense the challenge there. You smile as you turn away from him.

“Let’s try again,” you say. “Do you make a habit of lying to your interviewees in hopes of manipulating a confession?”

“Is ‘lying’ the word we want to use?” he says with a lilt.

“Yes.” You turn back to look at him.

He clears his throat, chewing his tongue to hide another smile before he looks away. He thinks a moment, then says, “I occasionally massage my message to pave the way for a more fruitful discussion in my favor, yes. Only in the interest of this office and my personal satisfaction.” He smirks at you, clearly pleased with himself.

You shake your head. “My, my. And just when I thought we were getting somewhere. Perhaps you need a reminder that I hold your immediate future in my hands?”

When you move back in and loosen his trousers still further to shove down his hips and below his arse, he wriggles to help. He seems to think he’s won this phase of the game. Adorable.

Rather than give him any relief, you reach out to the desk and pick up a wooden ruler, thin and flexible. Astarion opens his mouth, presumably to ask what you’re doing, but doesn’t get the chance as you use the flat of the ruler to give him a quick smack on his bare arse. 

He cries out in surprise and looks around at you. You raise an eyebrow at him and give him the opportunity to call his out. Instead, you watch his eyes darken. He’s still in. Which is good, because gods above if you aren’t beginning to make a mess of your underwear already.

“Do you understand your situation?” you ask.

“Maybe you ought to remind me again,” he rumbles.

You do, leaving another slap on his pale skin. A shiver travels up his back from the base of his spine all the way up.

“I understand,” he says.

“Very good,” you say. “Do you manipulate the outcomes of your interviews?”

“Sometimes, yes,” he says quietly, peering up at you from under his brows.

“Thank you for your honesty. With bribery?”

He nods.

You bend forward so you’re eye-to-eye. “And do you frequently offer favors of a sexual nature?”

Astarion’s gaze drops to your mouth and he blinks heavily. “That’s only for when I see someone I like,” he says.

There’s another slap to his arse, quick as reflex, and he gives a small, broken “a-ah” as he drops his head. He spoke the truth, your spell ensures that, but you want him to be more specific. You look down to see he’s subtly grinding himself against the desk, his cock beginning to weep pre-fluid as you watch.

You place the ruler against his back to hold him in place. “None of that,” you say. “Not until you clarify. Why me?”

He groans in frustration. “Because I like you. Because I’m attracted to you. Because I want to be inside you and fuck and fuck and fuck until we’re both hoarse from crying our ecstasy.”

Well. The pair of underwear you’re wearing are officially done for, you fear.

“What a wicked tongue you have,” you breathe, not quite able to keep up your aura of authority. You swallow and add, “Perhaps I’ll consider letting you off with a warning if we can figure out a better use for it.”

Astarion goes to his knees so quickly it makes your head spin. You don’t hesitate to take care of the bindings on your own trousers and he’s eager to help, shoving your clothing to the floor. You’re trying to remove a boot when he presses his face into the crux of your legs and runs his tongue along the seam of you so hotly that you nearly fall over. You lean down and give him another half-hearted smack. All it does is elicit a groan against your most sensitive of places.

With some struggle, you manage to remove the boot, kick your trousers and underthings off of one leg, and hop up to sit on the desk, Astarion follows you along, refusing to let you leave him now that he’s on you. His mouth works against you on its own, tongue lapping firmly at the edges of your cunt, flushing you and making you swell. He hasn’t even touched your clit yet and you know you’re already slick with desire.

You’re so momentarily distracted that you almost miss where his hands have gone.

Chest heaving, you weakly wave to dismiss your Zone of Truth and call up your mage hand, sending it down where you can’t reach to grab the wrist of the hand Astarion’s using to pump his cock while he licks at you.

“I don’t think so,” you gasp. “Still on… probation.”

You’re losing the thread and you’re perfectly okay with it.

Astarion growls in response and comes up higher on his knees, wrapping his arms around your lower back and pulling you tight against his face. His tongue finally finds your center and he rolls it against your entrance, plying the place just inside that makes you go flush with arousal, your clit swelling further. Then he finally pays it attention with a light draw followed by firm circles, teasing until you feel sparkles of arcane energy tingling at your fingertips and zaps of pleasure shoot through your core.

He holds you so tight to him that there’s no escape from the assault of pleasure he’s waging on your body. All too soon, you’re whimpering as you approach your peak.

And Astarion simply stops. He leaves you there, right before the edge, and you cry out in dismay and frustration. Before you realize what’s happening, he’s on his feet and pulling you onto yours, spinning you around until your hips are pressed to the edge of the dark wood. You can feel his rock hard length against the cleft of your arse, feel the wetness at the tip of him against your lower back.

“You’ve overplayed your hand this time, I think,” he pants into your ear. “Let your guard down. What member of the Board of Ethics accepts bribes?”

When you try to wriggle free, you feel his fingers at your wrists. He takes your hands and spreads them on the desk as you’d done to him, bending you over. His hips draw back and then return and you feel his hardness drag over your folds from behind, teasing but not quite putting pressure on your clit.

His breathing is heavy, but through it, he manages, “This time, you tell me the truth. Why did you meet with me?”

“To catch you out,” you gasp. “Your behavior has been… unethical.”

“Is it unethical to recognize when someone wants your cock?” he whispers, sending a tingle over your shoulders. “Is it against my oath to offer?”

“That’s not… I didn’t…”

The head of his cock nudges your clit and you both hiss through your teeth. He pulls back until he catches at your entrance, pushing in just barely. Just enough to begin to feel him, but nowhere near enough of him. Instinctively you arch your back harder, trying to take more, but he won’t let you.

“Beg me,” he growls in your ear. “Beg me for my cock. Tell me it’s why you came here.”

Your very last thread of remaining restraint is pulled to its absolute limit, but it doesn’t break quite yet. “I came here on orders to uncover a magistrate with loose morals,” you manage.

Astarion reaches a hand up to the hair at the back of your head, grabs a handful, and gently pulls to bend your head back. Directly into your ear, he whispers, “You’ve found him. Now beg for it.”

In the quiver of his voice, you can hear that he’s the one begging you.

So you give in.

“I came here for you,” you whisper back. “Please, let me. Let me take your cock.”

His breath shudders out of him. “Take it you shall.”

Astarion thrusts his hips forward, burying himself in you, and you hardly have time to so much as gasp before he sets a punishing rhythm, one arm around your waist to hold you in place and the other one still tangled up in your hair. You arch deeply, giving him as much access as you can, and he pounds into you relentlessly. On the outskirts of your awareness, you feel bruises beginning to form on your hipbones from where they repeatedly hit the desk.

You don’t care one whit.

He keeps you bent over the desk, your palms spread to keep you both upright as he fucks you hard, his moans trapped behind his clenched teeth. As you fly full speed back to your edge, he removes the hand from your head and absently places it over your mouth to muffle your own escalating cries.

The coil of your climax tightens and Astarion begins to mutter a steady mantra of “yes, yes, yes, gods, yes” beside your ear. He presses himself all the way to the hilt and rocks, the base of him stretching you just right and his balls pressed firm to your clit and there, oh there, it’s right-

You scream behind Astarion’s palm as you come, the delicious tension boiling and spilling over as contractions roll through you, pleasure washing over your body with every heartbeat. You nearly blank out for a second and when you blink back down, your lover continues to pump into you as he chases his own end.

With a shaking hand, you call up your mage hand from where it shimmers nearby and press it to his chest, pushing back with soft pressure.

“No,” Astarion whines, attempting one or two more thrusts before you back him up. “No, please, please, I didn’t finish, I-”

You turn, bottomless and eyes full of fuck and revenge, and add your own hands to the mix, all three pushing him back until he hits the deposition table, going flat on his back. You crawl up over him and straddle him, up on your knees just out of reach.

You look down upon him, beautiful and fucked out in the moonlight. “Do you regret any of it?” you say.

“I’m regretting a lot of my decisions at the moment,” he snarks. His lips part as he breathes.

With a smile, you roll your hips just enough to catch the head of his cock back at your opening. “Do you regret any of it?” you repeat.

He pants, looking up at you. Then he reaches up to grip the front of your shirt and pull you down over him in a searing kiss. When you break, he whispers, “No. Not a moment. It brought me to you.”

You roll back, sinking down onto him. He gasps and throws his arms around you, helping you get back into rhythm, and he’s so close that it’s barely any time at all before he arches his back clear up off the table and groans as he spills inside of you, the relief painted across every inch of his face. He comes for nearly a minute, twitching and humming beneath you until he finally relaxes into a boneless heap.

When he next opens his eyes, you lean down and catch him in another kiss.

The pair of you have barely redressed and cast a few prestidigitation cantrips as a courtesy before there’s a sound somewhere down the hall. Footsteps. Coming closer.

“Shit,” Astarion whispers, startled. He grabs your hand and spins you both into a dim corner of the room before you both cast Invisibility. Just in the nick of time, it appears, because there’s a jangle of keys and then a harried-looking halfling comes bustling into the room, dark bags under their eyes.

They grumble to themselves for a moment, going to a box to sort through files. They don’t find what they’re looking for and move on to the desk. Once there, they open a drawer, then wrinkle their nose.

“Bleeding hells, it smells like sex in here,” they grumble. “Gonna tell Jackobson that Cole has been using his office again. Teach that arsehole for making me come fetch the file he forgot.”

The halfling pulls a file from the drawer, slams it, and exits the room.

Neither of you move for the rest of the minute your invisibility lasts. As soon as the cloaking spell fades, you both collapse to the floor in quiet giggles. You kiss Astarion through your laughter, again and again.

It’s nice to see this side of him.

[octuscle]

Cholo Life

“First the damned Democrats stole the elections from us and now they are stealing our identity!” Manolo began to roll his eyes. He was familiar with this. When KJ worked himself into a rage, he sounded like a personal disciple of Trump. ‘I mean that they eat the cats in Springfield and the dogs, it's not just an isolated incident, they do it everywhere!’ ‘Kyle…’ Manuel began. KJ gave Manolo a friendly punch on the shoulder. He knew that when Manuel called him “Kyle,” Manolo was angry. “Of course I don't mean you,” said KJ. “You're an American through and through, you're American as peanut butter!” Of course that wasn't true. Manolo was born in Lima, went to school in Lima, and only came to Minnesota with his parents at the age of eight. But his parents had placed great importance on him learning the language quickly, and today Manolo speaks better English than his best friend from school days, KJ.

Kj, on the other hand, was a prime example of a junior at an American college: muscular, bright eyes, fair complexion, of course he played American football, and of course he parroted what Trump said without thinking. Yes, he was damn good-looking, but yes, he was also a real airhead. And even though olu secretly had a crush on KJ, KJ was out of reach for Manolo. You couldn't be more straighter than KJ.

KJ was studying business. With a bit of luck, he would at least get his bachelor's degree. Manolo had already graduated from high school two years before KJ and was about to get his bachelor's degree in biochemistry. He wanted to follow in his father's footsteps, who ran the research department of a seed company here. KJ, on the other hand, would join his father's trucking company and would alternate between driving trucks on the highways and struggling with the accounting in the office.

“Besides, you yourself admitted that you eat pets. You said that your grandmother serves guinea pigs.” ”Yes, but first of all, my grandmother doesn't steal the guinea pigs from some guys in Ohio, but has her cook buy and prepare them at the market, and secondly, guinea pigs are a delicacy where we come from. We find it rather absurd that you…” “All fake news!” KJ countered. ”Admit that the whole world would be in ruins without the USA. Our culture is simply superior!” There were situations in which Manolo was annoyed at being physically inferior to KJ. There were situations in which he just wanted to smash KJ's face in. It was really crazy that a guy who already classified cartoons as art wanted to lecture him on culture. His abuela had once given him a lucky charm that he always carried in his pocket. In situations like this, squeezing the stone firmly helped him. It drained the anger out of him. But this time was different. The stone became warm. The stone became hot! Manolo let go of it. He reached for the cold coke glass to cool his hand.

“Are you okay, hermano?” KJ asked. Manolo winced. That was the first time KJ had used a Spanish word correctly. ‘Would you order me another tequila? ¡Tengo que mear!’ Manolo looked after his friend. He had never drunk tequila before. KJ was also a feast for the eyes from behind. The torn jeans clung to his firm ass. His shoulders were broad. He was muscular. But not exaggerated. And his patriotic tattoos emphasized his masculinity. Manolo waved at the waitress and ordered two tequilas. He didn't usually drink. But maybe he could stand KJ better today if he was a little drunk.

The tequila arrived before KJ. And when KJ sat down, Manolo was playing with his cell phone. KJ took his tequila glass. “A nuestra salud y amistad, hermano” “A nuestra salud y amistad, KJ” Manolo replied distractedly, picked up the glass and was about to toast. He was frozen for a few seconds. What the hell had happened to Kyle? The smooth cheeks were covered by a hint of a beard. His tattoos had expanded. And now they had a lot more space too. Because KJ's muscles had almost exploded. His slender neck, with the Adam's apple whose movements always made Manolo so horny, had become a bull's neck tattooed all over. “Dude, you look like you've seen a ghost,” KJ said. His English had a slight Spanish accent. And there was a tear tattooed under his one eye. Manolo ordered two more tequilas… Their conversation turned into Spanglish gibberish. And at some point into Spanish. KJ got terribly worked up about the gringos. In doing so, he accidentally knocked his trucker cap off his head. He picked up a bandana and tied it around his head. KJ's gaze became somehow different. While they were talking, he played with his nipples more and more. He looked at Manolo more intensely. Somehow… lustfully? “Tengo que ir al baño otra vez. ¿Y no te gustaría venir conmigo?” KJ stood up. He was a muscleman. His tight-fitting tank top emphasized his muscles even more. With every twitch of the muscles, the tattoos moved, creating a real cartoon. His ass looked phenomenal in the pleated pants. If Manolo had to create a wank fantasy, this is what it would look like. And now the wank fantasy was telling him to follow him to the restrooms. Damn it! KJ looked like a real cholo. And he was a square college student in khakis and a button-down. Manolo hesitated for a moment. And then he followed KJ. KJ? Why “KJ”? I have no idea when the nickname developed. César Jesus should have been called CJ. But some stupid gringo hadn't understood that in elementary school. And so he had eventually become KJ. And the nickname stuck.

KJ was standing at the urinal. Manolo could see from behind that he was about to jerk off. Even though they had known each other since childhood, he had never seen KJ's cock. KJ's father had the typical conglomerate that enterprising wetbacks build. He had a few trucks that he used to transport goods or help with removals, he owned a few cafes, a laundry… And KJ was supposed to take over this small local empire at some point. His parents had always hoped that the friendship with the clever and ambitious Manolo would have a positive effect on KJ. But KJ had always been the type to hang out with the bad boys. And who could blame him? He looked just as brutal and manly as his father.

Manolo stood next to César at the urinal. César pretended not to notice Manolo. His tattooed hand jerked his cock, which was also covered in tattoos. It was a monster that offered almost as much surface area for artistic decoration as Manolo's thin forearm. César pushed up his tank top with his other hand, revealing his granite abs and finally his nipples. He played with his right nipple with his left hand. And Manolo, whose cock was almost as hard as César's muscles, couldn't help but suck on the left nipple. “Siempre supe que detrás de la fachada de empollón se escondía una zorrita,” César moaned. He let go of his nipple and pushed Manolo gently but firmly onto his knees. And Manolo greedily licked the precum from César's gleaming glans. This beast was not the first cock he sucked. But it was the biggest. And its owner was the one he wanted to satisfy more than anyone before. They had been like dissimilar brothers. Now he wanted to be this giant's whore. And César obviously wanted him to be his whore. He enjoyed the blow job and moaned loudly enough to signal to anyone who wanted to use the toilet that it was occupied. Manolo sucked César's cock and jerked his own. Both came almost simultaneously. It was impossible for Manolo to swallow all of César's cum. And his own cum splashed onto his shirt. Exhausted, he fell back. César was breathing heavily, too. “Necesitas una camisa nueva, hermanito,” he said. Manolo certainly couldn't go out like that. César took off Manolo's shirt and wiped his cum-smeared face with it. Then he took off his sweaty tank top. It was a bit difficult because it couldn't be easily pulled over his muscular body. He handed it to Manolo. Of course it was too big. But it felt good. And César would make sure that he would fill it out better soon. Today two men became real cholos.

Pics by @ki-kink

[rainforestakiie]

AdamsApple Month Harvest!

Devil's Night~

hello everyone! i'm back with the part 02 of devil's night. it is finished, i think. it's not my best writing, i haven't had a great day. so i hope you enjoyed it a little.

the idea for this is inspired by @things-arent-what-they-seem66's AU of adam and lilith switching places.

i know harvest is over but i have a few more things to write!

hope you all enjoy it!

part 01 - part 02

@adamsappleweek

Lucifer was beside himself. A strange, prickling sensation crawled over his skin, making every hair stand on end as he paced his lavish, dimly lit office. He didn’t think he’d ever been this nervous before—hell, even ‘nervous’ felt like a poor word for it. Agitated, tense, almost terrified. As he glanced around the vast space, his gaze flickered over elegant but strange mementos that barely felt like his own, particularly a row of glass-encased rubber ducks on the wall. His other self shared his fascination with the odd trinkets, but even that taste seemed tempered, refined. Controlled.

Control. That was the key difference.

He’d only been in this twisted mirror world a short time, but it already felt like it might drown him. The day’s schedule—a rigid, suffocating list of duties and audiences—mocked him from the polished mahogany desk. Meetings. Meetings with the damned. Meetings with the Sins. Meetings with Heaven. How the hell did his other self, this polished, all-powerful version of him, keep it all together? And on top of it, somehow managed to be the kind of partner and father Lucifer could never imagine himself being. That reality sent an unfamiliar chill down his spine.

His jaw clenched as his eyes traced over the maddeningly neat schedule. His other self apparently held weekly meetings with Heaven—a feat he couldn’t even fathom. He’d spent centuries barely able to get Heaven’s attention, and here this alternate version of him was practically scheduling tea with them. Every cell in his body bristled at the idea. When did he find time for Adam? And Charlie? Yet somehow, this Lucifer was doing it all.

With a low growl, he sank into the plush velvet chair, feeling its cool embrace swallow him up. His mind drifted to Adam—Adam, who was evidently married to him in this version of Hell, and who was pregnant with their second child. It was surreal. In his universe, this possibility had never crossed his mind, yet here, he was everything Adam needed and more. It made his heart ache in a way he didn’t want to admit. Adam had confessed his love to him—him, the impostor—in that soft, genuine way that Lucifer knew was meant for the other man. Each declaration sent a flutter through him, a buzz he couldn’t ignore, even as it filled him with guilt. He couldn’t escape the feeling that he was treading on sacred ground, some universe where he’d somehow gotten things…right.

Still, as he slouched lower in his seat, an unspoken question gnawed at him: What was wrong with him? How had this other Lucifer mastered an empire, commanded respect, and found time for a family, while he himself had barely managed to scrape by with half-hearted rule? Responsibility had always felt like an anchor around his neck. He avoided it. Yet here was a version of himself who carried it with ease, with honor. He was the King of Hell that mortals feared, that legends whispered of in terror. And then there was…him. Lucifer, the one who spent more time drinking or escaping into distraction than running his kingdom.

A soft knock at the door broke his spiral of thoughts, and he straightened, surprised by the twinge of anticipation that sparked through him.

“Come in,” he called, voice gruffer than he intended.

The door creaked open, and there stood Adam, his face bathed in a warm glow, a gentle calm that Lucifer found himself craving more with each passing day. Beneath Adam’s loose shirt, his rounded belly was unmistakable, the quiet yet powerful reminder of the life growing inside him. Lucifer’s gaze softened; his eyes drawn irresistibly to that swell.

How was this even possible? he wondered, still electrified and mystified by the thought. Lucifer wanted to look, wanted to part Adam’s thighs and see if he had a pussy. That had to be the only way Adam could be pregnant.

Did Adam have a vagina in his dimension?

“Hey,” Adam murmured, his smile a mix of shyness and insight as he caught Lucifer’s stare. “I thought I’d check on you. You look…tense.”

Lucifer chuckled, a low, dry sound as he gestured to the miserable stack of schedules spread before him. “You could say that.”

But when he saw Adam’s brow furrow in concern, Lucifer straightened and quickly tried to smooth down his unruly hair. “It’s nothing, really. Just…work.”

Adam slowly waddled across the office, and Lucifer’s sharp red-and-gold eyes followed him, softening with each step. There was something entrancing in the way Adam’s hand instinctively went to his stomach, rubbing it with gentle affection.

“You’ve been working hard. Then again, you always work hard.” Adam’s words were quiet, almost habitual, as he approached Lucifer’s desk.

Just as he reached the edge of Lucifer’s plush office chair, Lucifer jumped up, offering it to him.

Adam laughed softly but shook his head, remaining standing. “I’m fine, really.”

Lucifer opened his mouth to insist, then thought better of it and remained on his feet as well.

“I work too much, don’t I?” he asked, his voice softer than he intended.

Adam reached out, brushing a warm hand over Lucifer’s cheek, his fingers caressing the unfamiliar lines of his face.

“I’ve been saying that for years,” Adam replied, his smile touched with affection. “But you’ve always brushed me off, saying you had to work hard to keep Hell safe.”

Lucifer closed his eyes, leaning into Adam’s hand. The warmth of his touch melted the tension from his body, grounding him.

Safe? Lucifer wondered, feeling a flicker of doubt. Safe from what? Heaven?

But he stopped himself from asking, afraid of breaking whatever spell this was, of risking Adam pulling away from him. This moment felt like the very thing he’d been yearning for. Lucifer placed his clawed hand over Adam’s, holding it against his cheek as he gazed up at him from beneath long, dark lashes.

“We haven’t had much time together, have we?” he murmured, his voice low, almost apologetic. “I’ve been so caught up…in my duties.”

Adam blinked, clearly surprised by the admission, his expression shifting to one of bashful shyness.

“Well, no, we haven’t,” he replied, almost timidly. “But it’s okay…you’re the King of Hell and all. I understand.”

Lucifer swallowed hard, stepping closer to him, close enough that Adam’s pregnant belly pressed against him. A tiny, bittersweet realization hit him—even here, in this world, he still couldn’t quite match his counterpart.

Even their height was slightly different; he barely reached Adam’s should back in his world, but here, his other self reached Adam’s nose. Still, he closed the gap, his voice barely a whisper as he cupped Adam’s face, his claws tracing gentle circles on Adam’s cheeks.

“I know I haven’t been very present. But I’m going to change that. Hell won’t fall apart without me for a few hours.”

Adam’s gaze turned doubtful, as if this wasn’t the first time he’d heard such a promise. “Luci, you…you don’t have to say that just to make me happy. I know things are changing, and it’s important.”

His words had a practiced, almost automatic feel, as though he’d memorized them after hearing them too many times.

Lucifer’s stomach twisted. Had his other self made these promises before? The same empty reassurances Adam had quoted earlier in the kitchen? Did his other self regularly make promises he had no intention of keeping?

“Fuck that,” Lucifer said, his voice sharp with conviction. Adam’s eyes widened, a flicker of hope and wariness blending in his gaze.

“Fuck the changes. And fuck all that ‘it’s important’ crap. It can wait a few hours. No—scratch that. It can wait until tomorrow.”

Adam spluttered, his golden eyes lighting up with hope, though doubt shadowed them. Lucifer slipped his arms around him, pulling Adam close with a fierce smile.

“Actually, no, screw the whole week,” he declared, his voice firm. “I’m officially on vacation. I’m sure Hell will survive without me for a few days.”

Adam’s mouth dropped open, a mixture of surprise and joy crossing his face. “R-really? You’re not just saying that?”

In answer, Lucifer leaned up, ignoring the bump of Adam’s belly pressing into him, and kissed him softly, lingering there until the kiss deepened, as if it could make up for every broken promise.

“I’m not just saying it,” he whispered as he pulled away. “In fact, watch me.”

With a flair that felt more like his true self than ever, Lucifer flopped back into the plush chair, casting Adam a devilish grin as he snapped his fingers. Instantly, a golden screen shimmered into existence, who Lucifer assumed was his assistant appeared on the other side, wide-eyed and anxious.

“Sir!” his assistant blurted, sitting up straight. “You’re almost three minutes late! It would be unwise to keep Leviathan, the King of Envy, waiting!”

Lucifer’s curiosity prickled at the mention of Leviathan—a Sin who, in his own world, rarely bothered him. But before he could lean forward to ask about it, he caught Adam’s expression, the way his golden eyes dimmed as he took a small step back, already resigned to disappointment.

So this is how it was, Lucifer realized with a bitter pang. This other Lucifer really did make these empty promises.

Shaking himself from his thoughts, Lucifer sat up and waved a hand dismissively. “I’m afraid not! Please clear my schedule for the entire week!”

“W-Wha-“

“I’m officially on vacation!” he announced brightly.

The assistant stammered, clearly taken aback, but Lucifer plowed on before they could interject. “I’ll be back next week. Reschedule all the important meetings and extend my regards to Leviathan and the rest. I’ll be unreachable—I’m sure you understand. My husband is heavily pregnant and needs my attention, and my dear daughter has invited us to her hotel for some well-deserved family time.”

The assistant gasped, visibly bristling. “Sir! You mustn’t cancel—”

“Thank you! Goodbye!” And with a final snap of his fingers, the screen vanished in a shimmering wisp.

Turning back to Adam, Lucifer grinned, pleased with himself.

“See? All done!” he declared, his eyes sparkling with pride.

Adam blinked at him, mouth opening and closing, clearly stunned. He stared at Lucifer as though seeing him for the first time, as if unable to believe this was real. Smiling, Lucifer rounded his desk, sliding his hands into Adam’s and giving them a reassuring squeeze.

“There. I’m all yours again,” he murmured.

Adam stood there, utterly stunned, his golden eyes wide as he processed what had just happened. Lucifer couldn’t resist a soft, triumphant chuckle as he watched the expression on Adam’s face transform from shock to hesitant delight. A surge of warmth bloomed in his chest; it was painfully clear that Adam rarely received this kind of attention from the Lucifer he thought he knew.

And in this moment, if Lucifer knew anything, it was that Adam deserved every bit of it.

“You’re…really serious?” Adam whispered, his voice so low it seemed he feared any louder sound might shatter this moment.

Lucifer gave Adam’s hands a reassuring squeeze, pulling him closer, his usual devilish grin softened into something genuine.

“Absolutely,” he murmured, his tone carrying an earnestness that surprised even him. “I know I…I’ve probably made a hundred promises before. But this time, I mean it. You and Charlie… you’re my whole world this week.”

Adam let out a slow breath, his expression softening into something vulnerable and raw. Lucifer’s heart pounded, feeling something he couldn’t quite place. Without another word, Adam leaned forward, resting his head on Lucifer’s shoulder, and Lucifer’s arms wrapped around him instinctively, pulling him into an embrace so warm and steady that it felt almost too real.

They stood there in silence, Adam’s rounded belly pressing gently between them—a reminder of this life they could have shared, however miraculous and surreal it felt to Lucifer. He knew he should feel out of place, like an imposter in another man’s life, but in this rare instant, he felt strangely…at home.

“I’ve missed you,” Adam whispered, the words so soft they nearly vanished in the quiet. “More than I can say.”

The confession struck something deep within him. This other Lucifer had left Adam feeling fractured, alone even in their togetherness. Tilting Adam’s chin up, Lucifer met his gaze, trying to communicate with his eyes what he couldn’t explain with words.

“Well, get used to me,” he murmured, grinning in a way that he hoped was as comforting as it was teasing. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”

Adam’s cheeks flushed, his mouth curving into a tentative smile that Lucifer found almost too endearing. He leaned in and kissed him, savouring how Adam melted into him, as though the walls that had kept them apart were finally crumbling. In that moment, the weight of Hell, his duties, and the impossible situation he was navigating faded to the background. This was the only reality he wanted—one that, even if borrowed, he intended to treasure.

When they pulled apart, Adam’s hand remained entwined with his, giving a soft, almost reluctant squeeze.

 “So…what now?” Adam asked, a spark of excitement in his voice.

Lucifer’s smirk crept wider, amusement flickering in his eyes for two reasons. First, Adam looked positively adorable, his face lighting up with that innocent excitement Lucifer so rarely encountered. Second, he’d uncovered a weakness, a chink in the perfect armour of this other Lucifer—a slip in family obligations that he could easily exploit.

“How about we surprise Charlie with a visit?” he suggested, his tone velvety smooth, disguising the tiny thrill of mischief that was building. “I think our daughter would love a bit of family time.”

Adam’s eyes brightened, a spark of joy that made Lucifer’s heart stammer—a reaction he hadn’t anticipated. For a brief moment, the shadowed bitterness ebbed, replaced by a soft warmth. Here, Adam’s happiness felt… real, almost achingly genuine.

“She’ll be thrilled!” Adam laughed, the sound rich and bubbling, weaving between them like music.

“She’s been asking about you for so long.” He shook his head with a fond smile. “Charlie’s going to be so excited. She’s missed you terribly.”

"She… has?" Lucifer’s surprise was unmistakable.

In his own world, he and Charlie shared nothing close to such warmth; their relationship was strained, brittle—like glass, one wrong word away from shattering completely. She’d never reached out for him, much less longed for his company or well, that was before Lucifer came to her hotel and began to help her reach her dream. And yet here, in this strange universe, she wanted him around. She’d been asking for him, waiting for him.

Adam laughed again, a beautiful, unguarded sound. “Of course! She loves you silly. You’re her father. She’s been wanting you to come to her hotel for ages now, especially since she started working with the redeemed souls.”

The words hit Lucifer with a surprising force, his breath hitching slightly. This other Lucifer had something he didn’t—a daughter’s love and a husband’s unwavering support. But before he could sink too far into that unfamiliar ache, the old bitterness stirred in his chest.

“Oh, but I’ve been too busy,” he finished, biting back the irritation that threatened to curl his voice.

Too busy. It was exactly the sort of excuse that grated on his nerves, even though he had used it himself a thousand times before.

Adam nodded, looking sheepish, and squeezed his hands. “But it’s okay—Charlie understands! She knows you have to keep Hell in order. You’re doing the hard work.”

Adam’s faith, his quiet acceptance, only made the bitterness throb harder. Excuses.

His other self had managed to keep his family with half-hearted promises and sweet words. The unfairness of it sank in, twisting like a thorn in Lucifer’s chest. It would’ve been so easy for this other Lucifer to take a week—a single week—to be with them. Just as he would, if he had the chance.

Forcing himself to breathe, he swallowed the biting words on his tongue and pulled Adam closer, the tension in him slowly ebbing as he rested his forehead against Adam’s cheek.

“Well,” he murmured softly, his voice wrapping around Adam like a promise, “I’m going to change that. I’m not too busy anymore.”

He pulled back, meeting Adam’s gaze with a fierce determination that made Adam’s eyes widen, a blush creeping onto his cheeks.

“I’m here,” Lucifer continued, his tone thick with conviction. “For you, for Charlie… for all of it.”

Adam’s face softened, his smile tender and filled with something Lucifer couldn’t quite name, a kind of love that felt almost foreign, almost painfully sweet.

“I know, love,” Adam whispered, leaning forward to press a warm kiss to his forehead. “And we’re here for you, too.”

The words settled around him like a blanket, unfamiliar but comforting, something he hadn’t realized he’d longed for. He could feel the power of this universe, of this life he’d stumbled into, settling over him, and for the first time in a very long time, he felt… at home.

“I can’t wait to see her.”

"Good," Adam murmured, tilting his face to meet Lucifer’s gaze. "It’s been so long since she’s seen you. You know how much she admires you, always telling everyone that her father’s the king of Hell yet has the biggest heart down there."

Lucifer’s chest tightened, struck by the weight of Adam's words. Admiration? In his world, Charlie rarely granted him anything close to admiration; disappointment was more the tune of their conversations. And yet here, this version of himself had managed to bridge that chasm. But beneath the sweetness lay a bitter bite. He was starting to despise this other Lucifer, the one who seemed to waltz effortlessly into a life of closeness and forgiveness while he, himself, had been shut out by his own daughter’s scorn.

Adam chuckled, a lovely blush blooming across his cheeks that made Lucifer’s heart race.

“Also,” he murmured, glancing down with a playful smirk, “I think you might have… given your assistant a few ideas about what we’ve been up to before you opened the channels.”

Lucifer blinked, furrowing his brows. “What do you mean?” he stammered, genuinely puzzled.

Adam’s eyes sparkled as he gestured down the length of Lucifer’s body, his blush deepening to an irresistible pink. “You’re… um, not exactly dressed for a formal meeting, my love.”

Lucifer’s gaze followed Adam’s, trailing down his own body until his eyes went wide. He was standing there, in full view of the channel, dressed in nothing but his ridiculous duck-themed boxers.

Heat flooded his face as he sputtered, “I forgot!”

But he quickly regained his confidence, flashing Adam a roguish grin. “Well, now they know just how much I adore my beautiful queen!”

Adam snorted, the blush never leaving his cheeks, his eyes warm with affection and just a hint of mischief.

“Oh, they know all right,” he laughed, squeezing Lucifer’s hands before gently tugging him toward the door. “Come on, let’s go get ready. If we want to surprise Charlie, we’ll need to leave within an hour. She was planning to come pick me up so I wouldn’t have to travel alone again.”

Lucifer’s brows creased as he followed, still gazing at Adam with an adoring smile before something curious crossed his mind. “Travel alone? Why don’t you just… open a portal?”

Adam gave him a quizzical look, chuckling as he leaned in to plant a quick kiss on Lucifer’s lips. “Very funny, Luci. I can’t use magic—you know that.”

Lucifer froze, his mind stuttering over Adam’s words. Adam couldn’t use magic? But in his own world, Lilith could wield dark magic easily after her fall. How could it be that Adam, his Adam, was different? Lucifer quickly masked his confusion, breathing a small sigh of relief when Adam turned away, unaware of his bewilderment.

The last thing Lucifer wanted was for Adam to discover the truth—that he wasn’t truly his Lucifer. This world had become so precious, so enticing, and Lucifer longed to keep his secret and continue living this enchanted life, to remain here with Adam, and even with Charlie. But his curiosity simmered beneath the surface. Why didn’t Adam have magic? And why were there these strange differences—the blue tones in the mansion instead of red, Adam’s striking blue horns, unlike Lilith’s blood-red ones? The blue glow seemed to calm him, like a gentle presence, so different from the harsh, fiery atmosphere of his own Hell.

Pushing the questions from his mind, Lucifer grinned and tightened his hold on Adam’s hand, swinging their joined hands playfully, earning another beautiful laugh from his husband. Adam’s laugh was light, rich, and filled with a joy that sent warmth coursing through Lucifer.

“You’re such a dork,” Adam teased, nudging Lucifer’s shoulder.

Lucifer nudged back with a smirk. “Yeah, but I’m your dork.”

Adam’s smile softened, and he gazed at Lucifer with such pure adoration that it made Lucifer’s chest ache.

 “That’s right,” he murmured, voice tender. “You’re my dork.”

Overcome with affection, Lucifer cupped Adam’s cheek, leaning up to press a soft kiss against his lips. Here, there were no servants bustling around, no formality—just the two of them in the quiet intimacy of this strange and wonderful world. In his own dimension, Lilith had insisted on servants to cater to her every whim, but here, with only Adam’s presence filling the mansion, Lucifer felt free. Free to be his truest, most ridiculous self, free to love without restraint.

And he intended to cherish every moment he could get away with in this paradise, so long as fate allowed him to stay.

By the time they reached their shared chambers, Adam was breathless, his cheeks flushed a delicious shade of red. Gently, he pushed Lucifer back, laughing shyly.

"We don’t have time for that, Luci,” he murmured, his lips swollen from the countless times Lucifer had pinned him to the walls along the way, stealing one kiss after another.

Lucifer pouted, eyes twinkling mischievously. “Aw, but Addie… just one more kiss?”

Adam bit his lip, fighting back a shy smile as he lifted a hand to cover his mouth, stopping Lucifer’s advance.

“As much as I’d love for us to continue… we really don’t have the time right now.” He glanced down, placing a gentle hand over his rounded belly. “And besides, the last time we got carried away like that, we ended up with this little gift…”

Lucifer’s pout transformed instantly into a broad grin as he gazed at Adam’s stomach, his heart swelling at the sight of his husband lovingly cradling their unborn child. He longed to peel away Adam’s oversized shirt, to run his hands over every curve, to marvel at his husband’s softness and beauty.

But Lucifer resisted, letting the moment linger as Adam shyly added, “Maybe later… tonight?”

“Yes! Yes!” Lucifer’s voice was an eager whisper, his heart practically leaping at the promise. Adam’s laugh was light and sweet as he reached up to playfully poke Lucifer’s forehead.

“Now go get changed,” Adam insisted, his voice taking on a soft but serious tone. “We don’t have much time. Charlie will be here soon to pick me up—she didn’t want me traveling alone again. Don’t we want to surprise her?”

Lucifer’s ruby and golden eyes sparkled. “Right… we’re going to surprise Charlie.”

Adam leaned in and brushed a soft kiss to his cheek, then gestured toward the wardrobe, carved with a pattern of ducks that somehow looked endearing, especially with Adam’s warm smile lighting up the room.

Lucifer watched, utterly smitten, as Adam disappeared into the adjoining bathroom. He recognized it as the door Adam had stepped out of this morning when he’d first woken up here, alone and dazed, half-convinced it was all a dream. Letting out a dreamy sigh, he turned toward the wardrobe’s grand, duck-carved doors and pulled them open.

His breath caught at the sight—a vast, shared walk-in closet that seemed to stretch endlessly. It was a wardrobe fit for two, filled with racks upon racks of clothes, shoes, belts, bags, and more, all laid out perfectly. Here, in this universe, Adam had embraced the idea of sharing a wardrobe with him, something Lilith had always rejected back in his own world. A flutter of warmth rose in Lucifer’s chest as he ran his hands over what must be Adam’s section of clothing. He noted the punk-inspired themes, softened by cozy textures—clothes meant to be both stylish and comfortable. It suited Adam perfectly, especially now that he was… pregnant.

The discovery only deepened as he found matching pajama sets in various animal designs, including, to his delight, a series of duck onesies in a bright golden color. There was even a punk-rock version, complete with faux leather accents and silver embellishments. Lucifer let out a soft whine, imagining Adam wearing one of those duck onesies. They must have dressed up and snuggled together often, he thought, a pang of jealousy tugging at him before he managed to shake it off. Carefully, he smoothed out the fabric, placing the onesie back in its spot before moving further into the wardrobe.

As he walked, he froze, his gaze catching on a row of dark suits. He furrowed his brows, realizing every single one was black.

“What’s wrong?” Adam’s voice floated over, and he waddled into the closet, looking brighter and more at ease after freshening up. Lucifer turned to him with a frown.

“They’re black,” he murmured, still baffled.

Adam blinked, tilting his head before carefully approaching and inspecting the suits, his fingers skimming over the fabric with a discerning touch.

“You mean your suits?” he asked curiously.

His face scrunching up as he dropped the sleeve of one in favour of a different fabric, letting out a contented sigh as he found a softer texture. Lucifer noticed how particular Adam seemed about the feel of certain fabrics. Was he sensitive to textures, or perhaps had a sensory sensitivity?

“Yeah,” Lucifer said, taking the suit Adam seemed to prefer and holding it up to his body. “But… where are my white suits?”

Adam squinted, tilting his head in thought. “You don’t wear white suits, Luci. Well, you used to, but you got rid of them after Charlie kept drawing on them when she was little.”

“You decided it looked… unprofessional.” Adam shrugged, reaching for something on a higher shelf as if the idea was of little consequence.

“Unprofessional?” Lucifer’s frown deepened as he looked up, spotting a familiar white top hat perched on the topmost shelf, far out of reach.

“But I liked that suit… it reminded me of Eden.” Adam hummed softly, turning back to him with a warm smile spreading across his face, “But I think black looks very nice on you.”

With a shy glance, he reached out and traced his fingers along the sleeve of the suit Lucifer held, seemingly absorbed in the texture.

“Then I’ll get more white suits… to remind you of Eden,” Lucifer said with a grin, winking as he watched a lovely blush spread across Adam’s cheeks.

Adam’s smile softened as he continued touching the fabric.

“Of course, Luci,” he whispered, looking almost lost in the moment.

Lucifer leaned in, feeling a swell of affection so strong it made his heart ache. In this strange, wonderful world, he could live without the formality and coldness that had defined his life back home. Here, he could revel in these soft, intimate moments, with no one to serve or judge, no one to spoil the simple beauty of his life with Adam and Charlie.

“Tonight,” he murmured again, letting his voice brush over Adam’s ear as he took his hand. “When Charlie’s gone, it’s just you and me, Addie.”

Adam nodded, his blush deepening, and gave him a gentle squeeze. "Then hurry up and get dressed… I’d hate to keep Charlie waiting.”

With a final look, Lucifer released Adam’s hand and turned back to the suit, his mind lingering on the upcoming night. As he dressed, he thought of how he would make the evening one to remember, savouring every precious moment.

Lucifer stood in front of a row of six full-length mirrors, his reflection shifting as he took in the details of this version of himself. This body was different—taller, with a leaner build, but subtly more muscular. He tugged at the black jacket, adjusting the fit over his shoulders, and twisted to inspect how the dark, sharp lines sat against his frame. It was strange, not seeing the usual white and red but instead a black suit trimmed with a rich blue—a ringmaster’s design, certainly, but one with an air of authority, almost refined.

The coat draped perfectly, the eight gleaming golden buttons giving a striking contrast to the deep fabric. Beneath it, a black and blue-striped waistcoat hugged his torso, the two gold buttons adding a hint of flair. The black pants, unlike the puffed ones he wore in his own dimension, were slender and fitted, disappearing neatly into knee-high, heeled boots that comfortably accommodated his hooves. Lucifer stretched one leg, marvelling at how the boots didn’t pinch—they fit as though crafted for his steps.

He caught sight of his bare hands and paused, noticing the thin band of gold circling his left ring finger. His wedding ring. He stared for a moment, feeling the smooth metal, almost surprised to see it there, glinting with a familiar warmth. His heart gave a little flutter, realizing this world’s Lucifer—his husband—had the same symbol of commitment.

“One more thing!” Adam’s voice chimed, sweet and warm, pulling him from his thoughts. Lucifer turned as Adam approached, holding up a black top hat and placing it gently onto his golden curls.

"There. Dashing," Adam murmured, smiling with a soft, admiring look.

Lucifer turned back to the mirror and studied his reflection; the hat was a near replica of the one he wore in his own world, except this one was a deep, elegant black, crowned with a golden apple and spiked accents that looked almost like a regal crest.

Adam chuckled softly, and Lucifer’s gaze dropped to see a small green snake coiled around Adam’s hand.

“And let’s not forget Basil.” Adam raised his hand, and the snake slithered gracefully up to wrap itself around the hat’s middle, settling like a living band around the brim.

Lucifer’s eyes went from the hat to Adam’s fingers, where his own gold wedding ring caught the light. He exhaled, feeling an unexpected wave of relief and a bright grin spread across his face.

"And you,” he murmured, leaning close, his voice dropping to a playful warmth, “You look lovely too.”

Adam gave a small snort, glancing down at himself with a shy shrug.

“I guess I look okay,” he said, tugging lightly at his outfit.

Unlike the overly ornate robes worn by the Adam in Lucifer’s original world, this attire was simple and comfortable. Black leggings and an oversized blue t-shirt layered under a soft, black cardigan. The shirt hung loose, subtly concealing his rounded belly. Lucifer could see how Adam’s clothes were chosen more for comfort than style, a quiet effort to shield and protect his growing form.

A soft pout tugged at Lucifer’s lips. He stepped forward, sliding his arms around Adam’s waist, drawing him close.

“I think you’re beautiful no matter what,” he whispered, letting his fingers rest gently over Adam’s hands.

Adam’s blush deepened, a smile flickering at the corners of his lips.

“Luci…” he murmured, the warmth in his voice almost shy, a quiet fondness slipping through. He looked up at Lucifer, his blue eyes bright with love and laughter.

They lingered there, wrapped in each other’s embrace, before Adam cleared his throat, his cheeks still pink.

“Alright, alright,” he said with a chuckle. “We really should get going. Charlie’s not known for her patience, and I don’t want to keep her waiting.”

Lucifer laughed, nuzzling Adam’s cheek affectionately before pulling back.

"Fair enough. But tonight…" He lowered his voice, brushing his thumb gently over Adam’s chin. “Tonight, we celebrate properly.”

Adam’s eyes softened, his fingers lingering on Lucifer’s chest before he nodded, an almost dreamy smile on his face.

"Tonight,” he agreed quietly.

Lucifer pulled Adam closer, his arm sliding around Adam’s waist, feeling the warmth of his husband’s body against his own. His clawed hand came to rest gently on Adam’s round, pregnant stomach, the soft fabric of Adam’s clothes warm beneath his fingertips. He breathed in shakily, the familiar and comforting warmth of the growing life beneath Adam’s skin making his heart swell with a feeling he couldn’t quite describe—an overwhelming love that was both tender and protective.

His lips curled into a smile, filled with affection as he looked up at Adam, his eyes softening with an almost reverent gaze. Lucifer tilted his head to rest against Adam’s shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath, and whispered in a voice that was all warmth.

“Are you ready?”

Adam’s smile bloomed even brighter, and his eyes sparkled with love.

“Yep,” he replied, his voice light but filled with a deep joy.

Lucifer’s heart fluttered as he leaned up, capturing Adam’s lips in a kiss—slow and sweet, leaving Adam breathless in the best possible way. As he pulled back, he held up his hand, twirling his clawed finger through the air, summoning a spark of golden light. A portal slowly unfurled before them, its shape an elegant oval, glowing with a soft radiance as it opened to reveal the familiar, yet somehow different, doors of the Hazbin Hotel.

Adam stepped forward, and Lucifer helped him through the glowing threshold, his hand gently at the small of Adam’s back. As they emerged on the other side, Lucifer paused, looking up at the looming structure before them. This version of the Hazbin Hotel was not quite like the one he remembered from his world. It felt like a blend of his past and present—a bridge between destruction and rebirth, but with one clear difference: the blueish hue that softened its edges, lending it an ethereal quality. The once towering red stone was now a mix of deep blue, twilight purple, and soft indigo, with hints of shimmering black that caught the light.

The grounds around the hotel were a far cry from the barren, desolate landscape Lucifer had known. Instead of the harsh, red stone and crumbling debris, there was a garden. A lush, vibrant oasis of life—flourishing trees with thick, green leaves that whispered with the wind, and flowers of every shape and colour imaginable. The blossoms were unlike anything Lucifer had seen before, hues of violet, midnight blue, and soft lavender mingling together with delicate black petals. Strange, yet breathtakingly beautiful plants sprawled in every corner, their colours reflecting the night sky as if they belonged to some otherworldly realm.

Lucifer’s gaze lingered on the vibrant life growing around them, feeling something in his chest tighten with awe. The garden, so full of life, seemed so out of place in Hell, yet it thrived with an elegance that almost felt like it had been pulled from Eden itself. The soft glow of blue and purple plants bathed the area in a gentle light, like starlight captured in the form of petals and leaves. There were small pools of water that reflected the moonlit sky, their surfaces rippling gently with the breeze. The air was fragrant with the sweet scent of jasmine and lavender, and though the garden had its darker, more macabre elements—black thorns twisted up from the earth like tendrils, dark vines curling along the stone walls, and carnivorous flowers with jaws sharp enough to bite—there was a serenity to it all. The contrast of life and death, beauty and danger, only made it more captivating.

Lucifer’s mind began to race with questions. This garden—was it Adam’s influence? He couldn’t help but wonder, was Charlie also a gardener, or did she simply love this place because it reminded her of Adam? Had they tended to this garden together, perhaps in her childhood? He looked around, the beauty of it all almost overwhelming. It was a sanctuary amidst Hell’s chaos, as though the garden had been meticulously cultivated to embody peace and stillness in the face of the ever-present turmoil.

There were flowers that twinkled faintly, like little stars scattered across the bushes, while others bloomed with colours that shifted, as though they were constantly in motion. Some of the trees had dark trunks, almost black, but their leaves were a deep, lush green that shimmered in the soft light, casting shadows that played with the shifting colours of the garden.

Lucifer’s eyes were drawn to the centre of the garden, where a large tree stood—a twisted, gnarled thing with silver branches that seemed to stretch toward the heavens. From the tree hung long vines of tiny, glowing fruit, their lights pulsing like little stars—so different from the fiery, unforgiving landscape he had grown accustomed to in his world.

“This…” Lucifer murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “This is like Eden, but…”

He trailed off, unsure of the word to capture what he was feeling.

Adam’s eyes glimmered, his lips curling into a soft smile as he looked around at the garden.

"You would have seen it earlier if you pulled yourself away from your work," Adam teased, his voice light and melodic, a soft hum in his chest as his golden eyes shone with pride.

He looked around the garden, eyes glowing with a love that radiated through every inch of the space. "Charlie and I worked hard on it. She's so amazing."

Lucifer puffed out his cheeks at Adam's words, trying to suppress the frustration bubbling up inside him. Why hadn’t his other self come to see this garden? Why hadn’t he made time for Charlie, for the world she was building here? It gnawed at him, the bitter ache of missed opportunities. He would give anything to have witnessed this, to see this beautiful space that Charlie had poured herself into, to feel this warmth, this peace. If only his Charlie had been able to create something like this, to nurture it with such love and care.

"I love it here," Adam continued, his voice gentle and thoughtful. "Charlie and I would spend so much time together here."

He closed his eyes, basking in the serenity of the garden before glancing at Lucifer. "It feels peaceful, doesn’t it?"

Lucifer nodded, forcing himself to breathe deeply, to calm the storm of emotions that raged within him. This was everything he had wanted. Everything he had dreamed of. His heart beat faster in his chest, the sensation of belonging overwhelming him. This place—this garden—felt like it was made just for him and Adam, a sanctuary born from their shared love. It was as if the garden itself was a manifestation of their connection.

He turned to Adam, his expression softening with a mixture of awe and affection.

“It’s beautiful,” Lucifer said quietly, his voice filled with tenderness. “Just like you.”

Adam blushed, the smile on his face widening as he reached out, taking Lucifer’s hand. Lucifer’s own heart swelled, and he added softly, “I know. I’ve missed a lot... but I promise to make it up to you and Charlie. I won’t miss anything else.”

Adam’s gaze softened, his golden eyes full of warmth as he squeezed Lucifer’s hand in return. “I love you.”

Lucifer returned the smile, the words flowing from his lips with a sincerity that he couldn’t hold back. “I love you too.”

They both turned toward the Hazbin Hotel’s grand doors, Adam stepping forward, ready to knock when, to Lucifer’s surprise, the door swung open before he had the chance.

Lucifer froze, his heart skipping a beat. He couldn’t breathe for a moment as he saw her—Charlie, their daughter—standing in the doorway. This world’s version of her, and yet, she was still so familiar. Her eyes glowed warmly, her lips forming a bright, loving grin that was a perfect reflection of Adam’s.

"Mum! You’re here?" Charlie’s voice was filled with excitement, her expression a mixture of joy and disbelief. "I was going to pick you up!"

Adam let out a sheepish laugh, his cheeks colouring as he scratched the back of his neck. "I know, but we thought we’d surprise you, so... surprise!"

Charlie’s eyes flickered between Adam and Lucifer, her smile faltering for a brief moment as she glanced at her father.

“Dad?!” she exclaimed, her voice filled with shock. “You’re here too? But I thought you had too much work to do?”

Her gaze softened almost immediately, a hint of confusion and curiosity in her eyes as she took in the sight of Lucifer standing there.

Lucifer stood frozen, the weight of the moment settling in. His heart was pounding in his chest as he looked at Charlie—his daughter, this world’s version of her. She was so much like Adam, and yet... so uniquely her own person. The recognition in her eyes, the warmth of her grin, it all hit him like a wave. He could feel a lump in his throat, the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. He had been absent for so long, for too long, and now—now here he was, finally seeing her.

“Surprised?” Lucifer’s voice was thick, but he fought to keep the emotion from his tone.

He stepped forward, his hand still holding Adam’s, but his gaze focused entirely on Charlie now. His heart was still racing, but in a different way. The bond between father and daughter, though new and strange, felt instant and powerful.

Charlie’s eyes softened as she stepped forward, reaching out to Adam first with an affectionate hug, then turning to her father, her gaze still filled with wonder and warmth.

"I didn’t expect you to come here. I thought... well, I thought you'd be too busy with your work," she said, her voice quiet now as she stood before him.

Lucifer, still processing the sight of his daughter standing there, felt something shift inside him. The rawness of the moment was almost too much. His lips parted as he tried to find the right words.

“I’m sorry,” he said simply, his voice low but filled with honesty. “I’ve been... preoccupied with other things, but that’s no excuse.”

He took a step forward, his hand reaching out to touch her shoulder, an instinctual act of closeness. "I’m here now. I won’t miss any more of these moments. I promise."

Charlie blinked, her eyes glistening as she looked up at him, a slight smile tugging at her lips.

"You’re here now, and that’s all that matters." Her voice was soft, full of understanding. "I’m glad you’re here, Dad."

The words hit Lucifer like a wave, and he nodded, his heart swelling with a bittersweet mix of relief and joy. He stood taller, feeling an unfamiliar warmth in his chest. Adam, standing beside him, smiled as he gazed at the two of them, his heart swelling with pride.

Charlie gracefully stepped back, a radiant smile lighting up her face as she gestured for both Lucifer and Adam to enter.

"I'm so excited for you two to be here!" she said brightly, her voice warm and welcoming. The way she spoke, the energy in her tone, was so familiar, yet there was something undeniably different about her.

Lucifer trailed behind Adam, his eyes quietly studying Charlie as she hooked her arm with Adam's without hesitation. He couldn’t help but notice how she held herself, her aura confident and poised. There was a calm authority in her presence, but also a softness, a gentleness, that made her her. And yet, the longer he watched her, the more he realized that Charlie—his daughter—wasn't exactly the same as the one he had known.

Charlie, much like everything else in this dimension, was different. She was familiar, but yet unfamiliar. She was still Charlie—his Charlie—but not exactly his Charlie. The subtle differences were apparent the moment he took in her appearance.

She still had the same tall, slim build, her pale white skin the signature of a hellborn demon. Her hair, now a soft hazelnut hue, cascaded to her ankles in smooth waves, with thin streaks of light coral blending into paler brown highlights. It was tied in a low ponytail with two black bands, the strands framing her face in soft curls, and her bangs flipped to the left side with a gentle curve. Lucifer couldn't help but notice how her eyes—those yellow sclera with their crimson red pupils—held a certain calmness that was both endearing and powerful. The thick lashes and purple eyelids were familiar, yet her overall expression was more serene, less volatile than the Charlie he remembered.

The most startling detail came when Lucifer noticed the black animal-like nose she shared with Adam. A strange sense of déjà vu washed over him. Did Adam’s nose come from here? he wondered, studying Charlie’s features. Her blue-toed hooves, the fangs that peeked from her mouth, the pointed black nails—these were still her traits, of course. But there was an air about her now that felt different. Less chaotic, more controlled.

And then, there was what she wore. Unlike the Charlie he knew from his world, this Charlie's clothing reflected her new sense of authority, a professional edge that matched the maturity Lucifer had seen in the garden. Like him, she wore a black tuxedo-style jacket with dark blue lapels, the jacket unbuttoned in a laid-back yet still polished way.

On the left side of her chest, a small white tag caught the light, perhaps a mark of distinction, or just an aesthetic touch. Underneath, a blue waistcoat added depth to the outfit, paired with a crisp white dress shirt. She didn’t wear the small, cute bowtie he remembered, but rather a sleek, black tie that complemented the overall professional vibe. Her dress pants were black, with a thin blue stripe running up the sides, making the outfit even more striking.

Lucifer noticed the blue cuffs at the sleeves of her blazer, the elegant and understated details that elevated her look. And on her feet were white saddle shoes, the toes and heel tips black, a blend of practicality and style that still somehow managed to look refined.

Charlie was adorable, undeniably beautiful, and her appearance exuded a subtle air of authority. She had clearly grown into herself in this dimension, a far cry from the more innocent, chaotic version he had known. The change was striking, but not in a way that made her unrecognizable. It made her seem more... complete. And Lucifer found himself wondering if this Charlie, this version of his daughter, was different in ways that went beyond her appearance.

He glanced at Adam, who had a proud smile on his face as he walked beside Charlie. The warmth in Adam’s eyes as he looked at her was a silent affirmation that this was their reality. Their life together in this dimension.

"Wow," Lucifer muttered, mostly to himself, his voice soft but filled with awe. "Charlie, you’ve done amazing things here."

Charlie turned back to him with a radiant grin.

"Thank you, Dad," she said, her voice laced with affection. "It means so much that you’re here now."

Lucifer's heart swelled at the sound of her words. Dad. That one simple word carried so much weight, so much unspoken emotion. And yet, in this dimension, he felt like he could finally begin to understand the bond he had with her—this other version of Charlie, and the new dynamic that came with it.

He stepped forward, his eyes scanning the surroundings one more time, before he reached out, gently taking Charlie's arm in a gesture of solidarity, of acknowledgment.

"This place... it feels like home," Lucifer murmured softly, looking at Adam and then back to Charlie. "And I’m proud of you, both of you."

Charlie smiled warmly at him, her expression filled with a mixture of gratitude and love. “I’m just happy you’re here, Dad.”

As they moved further into the hotel, the atmosphere felt different than it had in Lucifer’s own dimension. The walls were warm and inviting, bathed in soft, golden lighting. Everything felt purposeful, yet cozy.

Charlie had built this place with love, and it radiated in the air. Lucifer could feel it in every corner, in the very atmosphere of the hotel. The gardens outside, the thoughtful decor inside—it was all a reflection of the life Adam and Charlie had created here.

And for the first time in a long time, Lucifer felt like he was exactly where he was meant to be. Not just in this dimension, but with them—his family. And as they walked deeper into the hotel, together, he couldn’t help but feel the weight of the past slip away, replaced by something far more powerful. Love.

Charlie beamed with excitement as she led them through the hotel, her energy barely contained despite the professional edge she maintained.

"I’m so glad you're here, both of you! Welcome to my home." Her tone was warm, yet there was a confidence to her voice that spoke of pride and purpose.

Lucifer couldn't help but notice the stark difference in this version of the Hazbin Hotel. It didn’t have the chaotic, disjointed feel of the one in his own dimension. This place, every room and hallway, had been thoughtfully curated. There was no mishmash of clashing styles, no broken elements haphazardly thrown together. Every inch of the hotel exuded an air of professionalism, yet there was an undeniable charm—a mysterious, cozy allure that made it feel inviting.

As they walked through the expansive lobby, Lucifer’s eyes were drawn to the rich blues and purples that washed the space. The walls, though adorned with intricate patterns, were sleek and polished. The floor was a soft, plush carpet in deep violet, and the polished beams above gave the room an open, airy feeling. Everywhere he looked, there was a sense of refinement—nothing felt out of place.

The lounge area was especially striking, the colour scheme of the room not just sophisticated but soothing. Soft blue lighting emanated from lanterns that floated lazily in the air, their gentle glow reflecting off the smooth surfaces around them. The furniture was modern yet comfortable, plush seating in varying shades of blue and purple, arranged in intimate clusters. And though it had the atmosphere of a well-designed space, it wasn’t sterile or cold. It was the kind of place one could relax in and feel at home, even in Hell.

Charlie led them further through the hotel, pausing here and there to speak about the different rooms they passed. Lucifer noticed the subtle contrast in each area—some had elegant glass floors that shimmered as they walked, others had warm wooden panels that gave the space a grounded, natural feel. There was an elevator, sleek and shiny, with silver accents, its design futuristic yet fitting for the mysterious hotel they were walking through.

"Each room is carefully crafted to give a different experience," Charlie explained, her professional tone almost as though she were giving a tour to an important guest.

"Nothing is by accident. Every detail matters." She waved her hand around the lobby as if it were an extension of herself. "I wanted it to feel like a home, but one that had purpose."

Lucifer smiled and nodded, thoroughly impressed. “It’s beautiful, Charlie. Truly. You’ve outdone yourself.”

As they moved through the halls, Lucifer couldn't help but glance around at everything with admiration. Unlike the chaotic atmosphere of his own Hazbin Hotel, this one felt complete. There was no unfinished business, no rushed repairs. This was a space meant to be lived in, built with care and attention to detail.

They passed a room that caught Lucifer's attention—a bar, but one that was more sophisticated than the lounge's former setup. This bar had its own dedicated space, separate from the main area, and it seemed to belong there in a way that made the old bar look almost makeshift.

“Here’s the bar,” Charlie continued, ushering them inside. “It has its own space now, so it’s less disruptive. It’s a bit more... refined.”

Her smile was almost mischievous. “You’ll have to try it later.”

Lucifer, taking it all in, gave her a genuine smile. “I think I’d enjoy that.”

It was strange to feel this way about the hotel. He remembered the first time he’d seen his own version of the Hazbin Hotel—the moment he had tried to tear it down in front of Charlie. This place, however, felt different. It felt right. And it made him realize just how much his other self had neglected to appreciate.

As they wandered deeper into the hotel, Charlie suddenly stopped and turned to them.

 "Oh! Before we go any further, I want you to meet someone," she said, her tone suddenly more cheerful than professional.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. Just then, a figure emerged from one of the rooms—another familiar face, but not one he had expected to see. A woman, her wings folded behind her, eyes glowing with a calm, yet intense light. She had striking greyish-lavender skin, her features sharp, yet undeniably graceful.

"Dad, this is Vaggie," Charlie said, her voice full of pride. "My girlfriend."

For a split second, Lucifer nearly blurted out that he already knew Vaggie, that she had been introduced to him before. But then it hit him—this was the first time he was meeting her. This was the first time he or his other self had stepped foot into this version of the Hazbin Hotel, and everything—everyone—was different.

Vaggie stood before them, a striking figure who, though familiar, exuded an aura of both elegance and strength. Her greyish-lavender skin shimmered slightly in the ambient light, a subtle moth-themed design tracing the outline of her features. Her knee-length hair cascaded down in soft waves of greyish-white, the faded purple tips gently curling as they met the air. Her hair was pulled back into a high ponytail with a blue ribbon, the strands flowing smoothly, save for the long-jagged bangs that framed the left side of her face, hiding part of her features in an almost mysterious way.

Lucifer's gaze naturally fell to her eyes, noting the contrast between the two. Her right eye had a soft pink sclera with a warm ivory iris, shimmering with a calm intensity, while her left eye was hidden beneath a slate-gray eyepatch, marked with a red-pink “X” shape that gave her an air of quiet mystery. The small fangs visible when she spoke only added to the fierce beauty that radiated from her, her black lips adding a touch of sharpness to her otherwise delicate features.

Her clothing was another detail that set this version of Vaggie apart. She wore a pale blue short-sleeved blouse that hugged her slim frame, a stark contrast to the deep blacks of her wardrobe. Over this, she wore a black waistcoat, cinched just enough to accentuate her slender figure, the edges of the waistcoat cut precisely. A delicate black ribbon, tied into a bow, sat at the back of her neck, adding a soft femininity to her otherwise sharp appearance.

Her lower half was adorned in a black miniskirt, paired with light criss-crossing black and blue tights, and she wore a set of fingerless opera gloves that were a perfect match for the colour scheme—light blue, matching the subtle undertones in her outfit. She moved with a fluid grace, the design of her clothing blending both professionalism and a sense of personal style, making her look every bit the powerful figure she was.

Lucifer’s eyes lingered on her for a moment longer, the realization dawning that this version of Vaggie, like everything else in this dimension, was both familiar and new. The Vaggie he knew had always been strong, but this one seemed more at ease, more confident in herself, her presence commanding respect while still maintaining that same soft edge that made her undeniably approachable. The changes in her appearance and attire hinted at a life that had evolved—one that had brought her to a place of balance and power.

Vaggie’s voice brought him out of his thoughts, soft yet respectful.

“It’s nice to meet you, sir,” she said, bowing her head slightly, her posture formal yet not stiff.

Lucifer, surprised by the respect she was showing him, cleared his throat. Her formality, unlike the more casual tone he was used to from his world’s Vaggie, left him feeling both honoured and unsure of how to respond.

Lucifer froze for a moment, unsure of how to react. The respect she showed him felt... foreign, but not unpleasant. It was clear that in this dimension, the dynamics were different. The Vaggie from his world had never treated him with the kind of reverence she showed him now, and it left him feeling oddly flustered.

He cleared his throat, not wanting to seem too awkward.

"It’s nice to meet you, Maggie," he said automatically, before he could stop himself.

At the sound of his slip, all three of them spoke at once, correcting him.

"It’s Vaggie," they said in unison, a mix of bemusement and mild amusement in their voices.

Lucifer blinked, slightly flustered. "Oh... right, sorry about that, um, Vaggie," he said sheepishly, looking around at the others.

Vaggie smiled, though there was a slight flush to her cheeks as she shook her head. “It’s okay, sir.”

Lucifer, still not entirely sure of what to make of the situation, leaned forward, offering a gentle smile. “You don’t need to be so formal around me. Please, relax.”

Vaggie looked surprised by his words, her eyes flickering with a brief moment of doubt.

“R-Really?” she asked hesitantly.

Lucifer gave her a reassuring nod, smiling warmly. “Yes, of course. We’re practically family now.”

His words were genuine, and as he said them, he realized that this dimension felt like a place where he could finally relax, where he could find his place among the people who mattered most to him.

Charlie smiled shyly at her girlfriend, clearly pleased by Lucifer’s words. Vaggie hesitated for a moment, but then she let out a small, relieved laugh, her shoulders relaxing.

“Okay, sir—um, Lucifer,” she said, a soft smile tugging at her lips. "Thank you."

Charlie’s eyes flickered nervously toward Adam, her gaze pleading for reassurance, while Vaggie quietly inched closer to her, sensing the tension in the air. Adam inhaled deeply, his breath steady and composed, before he nodded in silent understanding. He took a step forward, his voice low and soothing, like a melody meant to calm the storm inside Lucifer’s soul.

"Luci," Adam began, the name almost like a caress, gentle but laden with unspoken weight. "There's one more thing... you should know."

Lucifer’s brow furrowed, his senses sharpening as he caught the subtle tension in the room. He tilted his head, curious, yet guarded, the shift in atmosphere not lost on him. He flicked his gaze over the group, noting the strange expressions, the silent communication between Charlie and Vaggie.

"What is it?" he asked, his voice dripping with both suspicion and anticipation.

Charlie and Vaggie exchanged a look—an unreadable one—before Charlie turned back to Adam, her expression a fragile blend of hope and worry. Adam smiled softly, his fingers gently brushing against Lucifer's hand.

Lucifer stiffened at the contact, his gaze snapping to Adam in confusion, but Adam didn’t break eye contact.

"About Vaggie," he began, his voice turning serious, his words deliberate. "There’s just one more thing you need to know. And you have to promise me, Luci, you won’t... freak out. Don’t get all dramatic, or start trying to pull some ‘authority’ nonsense like you usually do."

"Drama?" Lucifer arched a brow in mock surprise. "Authority? Me?"

His lips curled into a playful smirk, though the flicker of curiosity in his eyes betrayed his amusement. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

Adam’s gaze never wavered. "Promise me."

Lucifer sighed, rolling his eyes before he nodded. "Alright, alright. Whatever it is, I won’t see any of you differently."

But a flicker of unease crossed his face, his gaze shifting toward Vaggie, who remained unreadable, her eyes dark with unspoken thoughts.

"Is it about Vaggie being a fallen angel?" he asked nonchalantly, though a trace of knowing lingered in his voice.

Charlie gasped, her eyes wide in shock. "You—how do you know that?"

Her voice cracked slightly, as though the very mention of it was a secret she’d thought buried long ago.

Lucifer blinked, realization striking him like a bolt of lightning. He hadn't meant to reveal so much, so easily. But then again, he'd always had an uncanny ability to see through the veils others wore. He smiled, a lazy, knowing grin spreading across his face.

"It’s not rocket science," he said with a shrug. "I mean, I’ve always been able to spot another angel. Or rather, a fallen angel."

He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I’m a Seraphim—one of the highest-ranking angels there are. I can pinpoint another angel, halo or no halo, wings or no wings."

Charlie exhaled sharply, as though the breath had been held for far too long. She leaned heavily into Vaggie, who, despite her usual stoic demeanour, looked visibly shaken by the revelation.

Lucifer’s smile softened, a glimmer of affection for his daughter, and he added with a playful wink, "But hey, I don’t care if you’re a fallen angel, Vaggie. As long as my daughter’s happy, that’s all that matters to me."

Charlie’s face lit up with relief, the tension easing from her shoulders. It was as though the weight of the world had lifted off her chest. The fear she’d carried was gone, replaced by an overwhelming sense of gratitude.

Lucifer’s gaze drifted, suddenly thoughtful. He didn’t quite understand the dynamic between Adam, Charlie, and Vaggie, but something tugged at the corners of his mind. Was the other version of him—the original Lucifer—so cold-hearted that he would disapprove of such things? Perhaps it was his prejudice against fallen angels that had kept him distant, or maybe there was more to the story. He shifted his attention back to Vaggie, his curiosity piqued.

"I also know you were... or maybe still are, an exorcist," Lucifer said, his finger lightly pointing at the faint X mark near Vaggie’s eye, a mark that carried the history of bloodshed and exorcisms. "Judging by the symbol on your face, I’d say I’m right."

Vaggie stiffened, her breath catching in her throat.

"And... you’re... okay with that?" she asked, her voice small, almost uncertain.

Lucifer’s shrug was nonchalant, but his eyes were warm with understanding. "Sure, I’m fine with it. I mean, Charlie’s forgiven you, so I’m not going to hold it against you. You were doing what you thought was right at the time. Who am I to judge?"

The relief that washed over Vaggie was palpable. She let out a long, deep breath, as though something had broken loose inside her chest. Her posture relaxed, and she bowed her head in silent gratitude, though her eyes still held traces of vulnerability.

Lucifer glanced over at Adam, seeking some sort of confirmation, a silent approval. Adam’s gaze met his with an expression so full of love and warmth that Lucifer’s heart skipped a beat. There was a soft affection in Adam’s eyes, a tenderness that Lucifer couldn’t help but return.

The world around them seemed to fade for a moment. For once, Lucifer felt... seen. Not as the devil or a fallen angel, but as someone who was wanted, cherished, and understood.

Adam’s lips curved into a smile, full of affection, and Lucifer’s own lips followed suit, the two of them locked in a moment of unspoken connection. The air between them buzzed with something more, something deeper than simple affection—a bond that only they understood.

Despite the sudden sense of calm that had settled over Charlie and Vaggie, Lucifer couldn’t shake the feeling that something still hung heavily in the air. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it was there—an undercurrent of tension that clung to the room like a shroud. They were both standing straighter than usual, their movements deliberate, cautious even.

Charlie, usually so warm and open, seemed almost unnaturally poised, her fingers fiddling with the edges of her coat. Vaggie, normally fierce and unapologetic, kept her distance, her posture rigid, her eyes darting as though expecting something to happen at any moment. It was as if they were walking on eggshells, careful not to disturb the fragile balance that had settled between them.

Lucifer’s brow furrowed, and he cast a quick, uneasy glance at Adam, searching for some sign that he wasn’t the only one sensing the oddness in the air. Adam smiled at him, that same soft, reassuring smile that always made Lucifer’s chest tighten. But even as Adam’s expression seemed filled with warmth, Lucifer couldn’t shake the nagging sense of discomfort that lingered at the edges of his thoughts.

It was like he had stumbled into someone else’s life—a life that didn’t quite fit. Was it because of him? Or was it because of the other Lucifer? The one who had ruled this place with an iron fist, the one whose presence seemed to overshadow everything in the room, even now. He knew, without a doubt, that the Lucifer of this universe was far different from the one he had once been. The king of Hell—the devil—had been more domineering, more authoritative. This version, however, was... different. Gentler, softer in a way that almost unsettled him.

"Um..." Lucifer started, his voice suddenly awkward, uncertain. He glanced over at Adam again, his gaze asking silently if he, too, could feel the strange distance that had fallen between them. Adam simply gave him a warm smile, though there was a flicker of something else—an emotion Lucifer couldn’t quite place.

Before he could ask any more questions, as if the universe itself had decided to throw a wrench into the awkwardness of the moment, a shadow slid across the far wall, its movement liquid, serpentine. Lucifer's gaze snapped to it instantly, and he braced himself. The air shifted, charged with a dark energy. The ground beneath them seemed to hum with an unsettling force as the shadow grew, curling around the edges of the room before it solidified into a form. And there, standing in front of them, was Alastor.

The Radio Demon.

Lucifer’s stomach sank as the familiar figure appeared. Alastor’s wide grin split his face in a grotesque way, his red eyes glowing with a malevolent gleam. His presence was unmistakable—sharp, unsettling, and somehow mocking.

"Ah, you must be the one I've heard so much about," Alastor said with a voice that sounded like it had been pulled from a thousand static broadcasts, smooth and cold. "Finally decided to grace us with your presence, hm?"

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed, and despite the unsettling familiarity of Alastor’s voice, he stood tall, uncrossing his arms just long enough to give a pointed look at the radio demon.

"And who might you be?" Lucifer asked, his tone smooth but laced with a cold amusement. He crossed his arms once more, offering Alastor a tight-lipped grin and showing just enough of his sharp teeth to let the demon know he wasn’t intimidated.

Alastor’s eyes gleamed with territorial malice. There was a possessiveness in the air, a strange, almost desperate need for dominance over the hotel that radiated off him. Lucifer picked up on it instantly, though he would never show it. This was his domain now, not some other version of him self’s.

With an almost imperceptible tilt of his head, Lucifer smirked. "Well, it seems that my arrival has been long-awaited. What is it? Some kind of bellhop?"

Charlie’s laugh was awkward, a little too high-pitched. Her discomfort was palpable, but she tried, gently, to diffuse the situation.

"Alastor, please be nice," she murmured quietly, though her voice quivered slightly.

"Haha!" Alastor let out a harsh, mocking laugh, his grin spreading even further as if he were enjoying the discomfort he was causing.

 "Not quite! I am the esteemed host of this fine establishment. Perhaps you’ve heard of me through my radio broadcasts?" He leaned forward slightly, his smugness clear.

Lucifer’s response was immediate and cutting. He couldn’t resist the urge to taunt.

"Oh, that explains why Charlie named it the 'Hazbin Hotel,' doesn’t it?" Lucifer quipped, giving a sharp, biting laugh. "Ha-ha!"

Alastor’s expression faltered for the briefest of moments before it returned to that ever-present, mocking grin. His stance shifted, his glowing eyes narrowing as he leaned casually against his radio staff, his fingers tapping rhythmically.

"Fuck you," he spat with venom, his voice dripping with disdain.

Charlie flinched at the exchange, looking between the two of them in sheer panic.

"Mummmmm, please,” she whined, her hands shaking as she pulled at her coat nervously. Charlie glanced towards Adam, “They’re gonna destroy my hotel!"

 Vaggie, ever the protector, stepped forward and rubbed her back gently, trying to soothe her in the face of the growing hostility.

Adam, ever the optimist, tried to reassure her with a sheepish smile. "No, they won’t—"

Before he could finish, a loud explosion interrupted his words. The wall to the left of them shuddered violently as a massive hole tore through it, the debris falling like confetti around them. The sound of the blast echoed through the room, the force of it shaking the very foundation of the hotel.

Lucifer blinked, holding up his claws defensively.

"I didn’t do it!" he called out quickly, his voice tinged with mock innocence. "It was... what did you say your name was again? Bami?"

He tilted his head with a teasing smile, clearly enjoying the discomfort he was causing.

Alastor’s face scrunched up in outrage at the name, his eyes narrowing into slits. He looked ready to pounce, his grin faltering for the briefest moment.

Charlie, meanwhile, stood frozen, her expression one of absolute horror, her body trembling as she looked desperately at Adam, as if seeking a solution to the escalating chaos.

"Please, someone stop this," she pleaded.

But Lucifer couldn’t help but smile. Whatever strange tension had plagued him earlier, whatever sense of unease had clung to the air—he could feel it lifting. If only for a moment, he was ready to embrace this new world, this new challenge.

Adam was still reeling from the explosion in the wall, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to process the tension in the room. His hands were shaking slightly, and his mind raced, trying to make sense of what was happening between Lucifer and Alastor. He had never seen his husband act so territorial, so... possessive.

He had always known Lucifer to be authoritative, yes. But this? This was something different. Adam had never seen his partner act like this—furious, defensive, and so willing to go to war over something as seemingly trivial as an interaction with another demon. Then again, Lucifer had always been confined to his office, buried in his duties, ruling Hell with cold detachment. Maybe he’d never had a reason to show this side of himself. Maybe he had always been like this, and Adam had simply never seen it.

It made Adam’s chest tighten, but at the same time, he couldn’t help but admire how fiercely Lucifer was acting. He stepped forward, hoping to de-escalate the situation before it became something far worse than it already was.

"Um, Lucifer, Alastor, I think that’s—" Adam started, but his voice was immediately drowned out by Alastor, who was already stepping forward, a mischievous glint in his glowing red eyes.

“Well, well, well,” Alastor purred smoothly, his voice like honey dripping from his tongue, “Adam. It’s such a pleasure to see you again.”

His eyes glittered as he eyed Adam, and before Lucifer could react, Alastor smoothly glided toward him, his movements so graceful, it was almost like a dance. Adam found himself momentarily caught off guard by the way Alastor's charm oozed from every word and gesture.

“How are you, my dear? How is the little one? I trust you’ve been taking care of yourself?” Alastor continued, his words soft, almost flirty.

He leaned in just enough to be close, his gaze searching Adam's face as if he could read his every thought. “You look tired, darling. Surely Lucifer hasn't been working you to the bone? Surely, you haven't been on your feet all day?”

Adam was flustered, unsure how to respond. The gentle warmth in Alastor's voice was completely different from the way he normally spoke to him. Alastor was never rude, mean or cold towards him, but he was never…like this. It was unsettling.

“Oh, I—uh, I’m fine,” Adam stammered, his face flushing as he stepped back a little, caught in the radio demon's spell. "Lucifer, I—"

But before he could finish his sentence, he was cut off by Alastor’s cool, calculated gaze. The demon casually sent a glance toward Lucifer, his eyes gleaming with challenge.

“Tell me, Adam," Alastor continued, his voice silky as ever, "Has your beloved husband been taking care of you properly? I do hope he's been looking after your health, dear. It wouldn't do for you to be too worn out, after all."

Alastor's eyes flicked back to Lucifer, the unspoken taunt hanging heavily in the air.

Adam’s face flushed a deeper shade of red, unsure of how to respond. His eyes darted nervously to Lucifer, who was standing stone-still, but the tension was strong.

Lucifer's eyes widened, his pupils dilating as his gaze locked on Alastor’s every movement. He felt a sudden surge of something that made his stomach churn—not jealousy... maybe it was more like outrage. He didn’t even realize when he moved—only that in the next instant, he was wedging himself between Adam and Alastor, his body pressed forward in a clear, protective gesture.

“No, no, no, you don’t do that,” Lucifer hissed, his voice strained and sharp as he glared up at Alastor, his chest puffed out with indignation. “You don’t touch my Adam! And not that it is any of your business, I always take care of my Adam!”

Alastor’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. There it was—the crack he’d been waiting for. His lips curled into a wider, even more taunting grin.

“Oh? Is that so?” Alastor’s voice was rich with mocking amusement.

He stepped forward again, easily sidestepping Lucifer, his shoulder bumping Lucifer’s chest as though the fallen angel were nothing more than a slight inconvenience. Alastor closed the distance between himself and Adam once more, completely undeterred, his hand reaching out as though to gently touch Adam’s arm.

Lucifer’s breath caught in his throat, the vein in his neck pulsing with frustration and fury. He could feel his own irritation bubbling to the surface. The more Alastor pushed him aside, the more his chest tightened in some deep, primal way.

“Oi! I said don’t touch him!” he growled, “Don’t talk to him so personally either!”

Charlie and Vaggie stood by the sidelines, watching with wide eyes. Vaggie looked at Charlie, her gaze full of confusion as she leaned in closer to her.

“I thought you said your dad was pretty cold and... cares too much about his image?” she whispered, her tone soft and unsure. “Like…married to his job first, then your Mum and then you?”

Charlie awkwardly scratched the back of her neck, a nervous smile tugging at her lips. “Um, he is—or was, or... I don't really know. I’ve never seen him act like this before.”

Vaggie raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by the scene unfolding in front of her. “Well, he’s certainly not holding back now.”

Meanwhile, Lucifer’s chest heaved with each angry breath, his body trembling as Alastor’s fingers brushed Adam’s shoulder. Every movement of the radio demon’s was like a calculated strike at his pride, and Lucifer’s jealousy burned hot and fierce. It was strange—unfamiliar. He had never felt this intense need to claim someone before, let alone in front of others. He was a king, a ruler of Hell... wasn’t he supposed to be above such things?

But Alastor's smirk, that gleaming, dangerous look in his eyes... it was a provocation, and Lucifer could feel the bite of it in every part of him. He clenched his fists at his sides, his wings twitching in agitation, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. Not yet.

Alastor had found his weakness. And Lucifer wasn’t sure if he hated it... or if he wanted to fight back. It was the same thing Alastor did back in his dimension with Charlie! Being another father figure for Charlie just to mock him!

Vaggie gasped, her eyes darting toward Adam, then nudging Charlie with urgency.

"Charlie," she whispered in alarm, "I think your mum's getting overwhelmed!"

Charlie whipped her head around to look at Adam, who was now shuffling his feet, visibly caught between the escalating tension of his husband and Alastor. The two demons continued to exchange mocking, pointed remarks, and Adam’s patience finally wore thin. Swallowing deeply, he placed a gentle but firm hand on Alastor’s chest, trying to ease him back.

“Um, that’s enough,” Adam said, his voice steady but weary. “Alastor, you've never shown that much interest in me before. You’re just doing this to mess with Lucifer, aren’t you?”

Lucifer’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction at Adam’s insight, a feeling of vindication washing over him. Finally! Somebody else saw Alastor’s shameless attempts at baiting him.

But Alastor’s face twisted into a theatrically pained expression, placing a hand on his chest as though wounded.

“Mess with Lucifer?” he repeated, his tone incredulous. “Why, Adam, you wound me! My interest in you is sincere. Your charm is as radiant as the sun—any demon worth his salt would see that.”

His voice softened, gaze meeting Adam’s in a way that bordered on tenderness. “After all, Hell’s a cold place. It could use a touch of warmth.”

Lucifer’s expression shifted, his face twisting with irritation. He’d had enough of Alastor’s sweet-talking. Stepping forward, he jabbed a finger toward the radio demon, his eyes narrowing with anger.

“Back off, Alastor. Adam doesn’t need any of your slimy charm,” he growled, his tone dark and dangerous.

“Oh?” Alastor replied, his voice dripping with faux innocence as he met Lucifer’s fury with an amused glint.

“Is that... jealousy I hear? From the oh-so-calm and collected Lucifer Morningstar?” He smirked, clearly revelling in the way he was getting under Lucifer’s skin.

Adam, exasperated, stepped between the two, his face flushed with frustration. “Can’t we just—”

But he stopped short as a sharp, sudden pain shot through him. His face twisted in discomfort, and his hand instinctively flew to his stomach as he stumbled back, grimacing.

Charlie gasped and immediately rushed to his side, her eyes wide with concern.

“Mum, are you okay?” she asked, her voice tinged with panic.

Vaggie moved to help, wrapping an arm around Adam and gently guiding him over to one of the plush, blue leather sofas.

“You really should rest, Mum,” Vaggie said softly, her hand a steadying presence on Adam’s shoulder. “You shouldn’t be overworking yourself like this.”

Adam managed a weak smile, trying to reassure them. “I’m fine. Just a bit tired, that’s all.”

But he winced as another pain rippled through him, sharper this time, and he clenched his jaw to stifle a groan.

Charlie’s worry deepened. “Mum, are you in pain? What’s wrong?”

Adam let out a small chuckle, though his voice was strained. “It’s just... Braxton Hicks…”

“Fake contractions. They happen when…” His voice trailed off, and he glanced away, his cheeks colouring.

“When?” Vaggie prompted gently.

Adam sighed, looking sheepish. “When I’m stressed or overwhelmed.”

Charlie’s face hardened, her expression sharpening as her eyes darted to the scene unfolding behind her. Another loud crash sounded as Lucifer and Alastor clashed once more, their voices raised and their power radiating dangerously through the air. Keekee, their little demon pet, scrambled up the sofa to sit beside Adam, nudging him protectively.

Straightening herself, Charlie took a deep breath, feeling a new surge of authority bubble within her. She squared her shoulders, her demonic ruby and golden eyes flashing as they started to bleed into a deep red. Her hair began to slip free of its ribbons and swirled around her face like snakes, horns sprouting from the top of her head as she turned on her heels to face the two unruly demons.

“That’s enough!” she roared, her voice echoing through the hotel lobby like a thunderclap.

Her face was fierce, a new, formidable power radiating from her as she stomped toward the two demons. She grabbed Alastor’s tie, yanking him down to her level, and then tugged Lucifer’s collar, pulling him upward.

“Listen up, you two,” Charlie snarled, her voice dark and dripping with authority. “You are not fighting in my fucking hotel!”

Her grip tightened, and she yanked them both closer, her fiery eyes narrowing with dangerous intensity. “And I want that hole in my wall fixed—right fucking now! Do you understand me?”

Both Alastor and Lucifer nodded quickly, unable to form words as they stared at her with a mixture of surprise and begrudging respect. Charlie’s sharp teeth gleamed as she bared them in warning.

“And I swear to Satan,” she continued, her voice a low, dangerous growl, “If I catch you two having another pissing contest, I will personally cut off your dick and balls!”

Lucifer straightened himself as Charlie released him, smoothing his slick black suit and adjusting his tie, casting a dry look in Alastor’s direction. Alastor mirrored him, straightening his own attire with a sardonic grin as though they hadn’t just been thoroughly scolded by Hell’s princess.

Then, a shadowy tendril slipped up from the ground beside Alastor, creeping over to the wall to begin repairing the hole. Lucifer watched with amusement as Alastor’s magic inched over the crack, dark energy spilling and swirling as the wall slowly started to mend. Lucifer waited until Alastor’s magic spread across the damage, then raised his hand and snapped his fingers. Golden light washed over the wall, instantly erasing the crack as if it had never been there.

Alastor shot Lucifer a scathing look, his form dissolving momentarily into shadow before reappearing a few steps away. Lucifer smirked, basking in his small victory.

As he turned, his gaze landed on Charlie, who stood with arms crossed, glaring at the two of them. A faint flush crept up Lucifer’s cheeks. Seeing Charlie take charge with such authority—she truly was the princess of Hell. She had grown so much; her confidence radiated from her in a way that made him proud. She was still the same Charlie, his Charlie, yet stronger.

But then, his gaze drifted to Adam, seated on the couch nearby with Vaggie crouched beside him. Adam rubbed his stomach, a bit flushed as he tried to reassure Vaggie. Instantly, Lucifer’s face paled, and he teleported in a blink of golden light to Adam’s side, grabbing his hands.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Lucifer’s words tumbled out, concern and fear flashing in his eyes. "Do you need to lie down? Anything you need, I’ll make it happen."

Adam gave a small, sheepish smile. "I’m fine, really. Just… fake contractions."

He paused, glancing at Vaggie and Charlie, who were watching him closely. Leaning in, he lowered his voice to a hush, meant only for Lucifer. "It’s not like the first time… honestly.”

Lucifer’s eyes widened. He didn’t fully understand what that meant, but he nodded, his voice dropping to match Adam’s. "Okay, okay... as long as you’re alright. You’re not still in pain, right?"

Adam squeezed Lucifer’s hand. "No, no, it’s passed. They come and go. I’ve been having them for the past month now."

He gave a wry smile, one that hinted at something he hadn’t shared before.

Lucifer’s breath hitched, his gaze hardening with quiet anger. Had Adam been keeping this from him? Had the other Lucifer been so closed off that Adam didn’t feel comfortable telling him about something as important as this?

The thought darkened his expression. “You should have told me, Addie. I wish you’d told me.”

Adam shrugged helplessly, a faint guilt in his eyes. "You were busy, that’s all. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

A pang hit Lucifer, but he softened his tone, reaching up to brush a hand against Adam’s cheek. “I’m never too busy for you.”

His voice was laced with sincerity, and Adam flushed, clearly taken aback. From behind, they heard two soft “Aww”s, and both Lucifer and Adam turned to see Charlie and Vaggie watching, grinning at the display of affection.

Adam cleared his throat, breaking the moment with a bashful smile. "I… think I might need to lie down now. Today has been a bit too… fun for me.”

Charlie stepped forward, her face lighting up with excitement. “Do you want to go to your room, Mum? Niffty’s been keeping it spotless.”

She took his other hand, her smile warm and full of affection.

Adam leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

Lucifer puffed out his chest, straightening himself again as though preparing for duty.

“I’ll go with you,” he announced, ready to accompany him and keep an eye on him.

Adam shook his head, giving him a patient smile. “No, you should stay and spend some time with Charlie. You two haven’t had any father-daughter time in so long.”

He gave Lucifer’s hand a final squeeze, and Lucifer hesitated, glancing over at Charlie, who was suddenly looking bashfully off to the side, a faint blush colouring her cheeks. Vaggie offered an encouraging smile in Charlie’s direction.

Lucifer’s desire to stay with Adam nearly overwhelmed him, but seeing the hopeful expression on Charlie’s face, he softened. Of course, he wanted to spend time with her. Breathing out a resigned sigh, he nodded, eyes warm.

“Alright. But if anything happens—if you even feel a slight discomfort—you’ll let me know, okay?”

Adam beamed up at him, squeezing his hand once more. “Of course. I promise.”

With one last lingering glance, Lucifer finally pulled away, watching as Adam allowed himself to be guided toward the stairs by Vaggie. Then he turned to Charlie, his gaze settling on her with a softer, prouder look.

“So… what do you want to do, Princess?” he asked, offering his arm to her.

Charlie’s eyes sparkled, and she took his arm eagerly.

"Well, I think we have a very overdue talk to be had,” she replied, a mischievous glint in her eye. "And maybe we can keep the pissing contests to a minimum this time?”

Lucifer chuckled, pulling her close. “For you, Charlie, I’ll do my best.”

Lucifer walked beside Charlie, making a concerted effort to ask about her life in small, thoughtful ways, slipping questions into their conversation that gave him glimpses of this version of his daughter’s world. Her responses were heartfelt and animated, and as he listened, he found himself both charmed and unsettled. This version of himself… was less engaged, distant. He kept learning small things that he should’ve known—a favourite haunt, an idea she’d shared with him once, years ago. And yet, Charlie didn’t seem to notice his inquiries. She was simply thrilled to be by his side, and it made his chest ache with pride and regret.

They soon reached a quiet hallway lined with twenty magnificent, golden-framed oil paintings, each with astonishing detail and care. Lucifer stopped, his eyes widening as he took them in. Each portrait depicted a sinner, but instead of twisted cruelty or anguish, there was a strange serenity, a quiet pride on their faces. The glow in the portraits was almost holy.

Charlie watched him anxiously, her hands clasped nervously. “These… these are my redeemed souls.”

He snapped his head around to look at her, shock plain on his face. “You really did it?” His voice was barely a whisper. “You redeemed them?”

Charlie hesitated, then nodded slowly, her expression shy. “I did. I know you wanted me to give up on it… but I couldn’t.”

Lucifer’s voice caught in his throat. He had discouraged her from this dream? He had… pushed her away from it? In his own world, he had harboured doubts about redemption as well, too scarred from his own failures to try it again. But here—here, Charlie had persevered. She had done the impossible.

Charlie’s soft voice continued, her gaze far away. “I know… you didn’t approve. You said they belonged here, that sinners had earned this place, that they should pay for their crimes. But I thought… I thought that if someone truly wanted to change, if they believed in themselves enough to make better choices, then they deserved the chance to try.”

She twisted her hands, struggling to articulate what had driven her through the years. “Redemption isn’t about forgetting their crimes. It’s about healing. It’s about accepting what they’ve done… and learning to build a better path.”

Lucifer felt a warmth and admiration fill him. He stared at his daughter, wanting to hear more, to understand what she had built without him. “How… how did you do it?”

Charlie smiled softly, though there was a weight in her expression. “It took me a long time to figure it out. At first, I thought it was about showing kindness, building trust, using little gestures and encouragements. But that wasn’t enough. You can’t save anyone with just kindness and smiles.”

She shook her head, sighing. “Redemption—real redemption—wasn’t about glossing over their sins. I learned that it required the sinner to confront the very things that got them here, the sins that had ensnared their souls in Hell.”

Her voice lowered, almost reverent. “Every sinner in Hell has a victim in Heaven. I struggled with that for so long… couldn’t understand why some souls seemed incapable of redemption. Then I realized they had to seek forgiveness, not just from others, but from themselves. They needed to accept their pain and what they’d done before they could truly move on.”

Lucifer continued to stare at her, awe-struck. This was her approach, her labour of love, poured into each soul who chose to change. He finally managed to ask, voice low and uncertain, “And what… what happens to them? When they’re redeemed?”

Charlie gazed up at the portraits with a bittersweet smile. “They go to Heaven, but…”

She paused, glancing at him. “I couldn’t send them to live with those who never fell. It wasn’t fair to their victims to make them live side by side. There was… a lot of tension about it, and I didn’t want anyone to suffer. So, I worked with Emily—she’s one of the angels—and we decided… to create a new place.”

Lucifer’s jaw dropped. “You… created a new ring?”

Charlie flushed, glancing down. “I… I don’t really know how I did it, Dad. It just happened. I met a woman—she was one of Sir Pentious’ victims. She was… so hurt, so angry. I realized I couldn’t send redeemed souls to Heaven and expect their victims to be okay with it. Something in me… changed. I don’t know how to explain it, but suddenly… the new ring was there. It was for them—for the redeemed. Mum helped me set it up.”

Lucifer’s mind spun as he looked back to the paintings, his heart thrumming with awe and pride. She had done it. She had found a way to bridge the gap that no one thought could be crossed.

“Charlie…” he began, his voice thick, squeezing her hand gently. “I am so proud of you.”

Charlie froze, eyes wide and trembling. “Y-you… you are?” Her voice was tiny, almost as if she was afraid, she had imagined his words.

Lucifer nodded, his own smile faltering with emotion. “I’m so proud of you, Charlie.”

“What you’ve done… it’s incredible. I thought it was impossible, but you’ve done it. All of this…” he gestured to the paintings, “It’s amazing.”

Charlie’s lip trembled, tears welling in her eyes. “I kept asking you to come and see… to see what I was doing. But you kept saying you couldn’t. That you were too busy with Hell.”

Her voice cracked, and she quickly turned her head to wipe at her eyes. “Even after the first redeemed soul, you didn’t come…”

Lucifer’s gaze softened, and he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly. “I’m sorry, Charlie. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there. But I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere.”

Charlie melted into his embrace, clinging to him as tears trickled down her cheeks. “All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be proud of me, Dad.”

He held her even tighter, his own eyes misting with pride and regret. “I am, Charlie. More than you know.”

Lucifer chuckled, folding his arms and watching Charlie with a gentle smile, but inside he felt a tug—a reminder of all the moments this version of himself had missed. As if to heighten that feeling, Vaggie returned, her face warm and blushing, her usually flowing white and purple hair now braided neatly down her back.

Charlie’s face lit up immediately. “Aww!”

She pouted playfully, her eyes wide. “Mum braided your hair?”

Vaggie’s cheeks flushed a little deeper as she self-consciously touched the braid, fingers grazing the neat weave.

“Is it bad?” she asked softly.

Charlie shook her head, her expression full of admiration. “Of course not! You look beautiful.”

Vaggie smiled shyly, gratitude in her eyes. But Charlie’s pout grew, her shoulders drooping as she sighed. “I wish Mum would braid my hair…”

Lucifer perked up, puffing out his chest with pride. “I can braid your hair for you, Charlie!”

Charlie snorted, patting his shoulder in mock sympathy. “Dad, last time you tried to do my hair, I had knots for a month straight. Mum was soooooo pissed.”

Vaggie chuckled, a knowing grin on her face. Lucifer felt a pang in his chest, his playful confidence slipping for a moment.

“Your mother… he does a lot, doesn’t he?” He looked away, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips as he imagined how much Adam must have taken on, all while his counterpart focused solely on ruling Hell. It left a bitterness in him—this version of Adam had managed so much, carrying their family and all their dreams.

Charlie picked up on the slight dip in his mood. She stepped forward, a comforting hand on his arm. “You know, you could go see Mum now. I know he’d love to see you too, Dad.”

Lucifer looked at her, his eyes reflecting a hesitancy and reluctance to let this bonding moment with her go. “Are you sure, Charlie? I’m more than happy to spend more time with you.”

Charlie’s face softened with a warm, reassuring smile. “Dad, just seeing you here… hearing you say that you’re proud of me and what I’m doing… it means everything.”

She gave his hand a squeeze, her eyes earnest. “Mum missed you so much too. I think he needs to hear this from you just as much as I did.”

Lucifer hesitated for a beat, his mind filling with Adam’s face, his familiar voice, the light in his eyes when he smiled. He reached out to Charlie, pulling her into another tight hug.

“You don’t know how proud I am of you, my little star,” he murmured.

Charlie smiled, hugging him back tightly, and then pulled away, giving him a gentle nudge toward the door.

“Go on, Dad. I’ll be here when tomorrow. Besides, Mum might have more hair-braiding in store for me if I’m really lucky.” She winked, and Vaggie chuckled, giving Charlie’s shoulder a supportive squeeze.

Lucifer took a deep breath, his heart full, and headed down the hall, his mind full of gratitude and determination. Today, he would tell Adam everything he had meant to say all along.

When Lucifer finally found his way to Adam’s room—a journey that had taken far longer than he’d admit, only to remember he could have simply conjured a portal—he hesitated, his hand hovering over the door handle. Soft singing seeped through the walls, a familiar hum that wrapped around him like a spell, tugging his heart toward the melody’s warmth. Cautiously, Lucifer pushed the door open, his breath catching as he stepped inside.

Adam lay reclined on the bed, his head nestled against the pillows, a warm water bottle hugged to his chest and his feet propped up comfortably. His golden eyes were half-lidded, distant and peaceful, as he sang softly. In the dim glow, his cerulean horns shimmered as though filled with galaxies, each starburst of light a soft pulse in rhythm with his voice. Lucifer’s heart stumbled in his chest, his eyes widening as he took in the scene before him, a strange, bittersweet ache spreading through him. This was what he’d dreamed of this was what he’d wanted—a family, a life beyond his realm’s shadows.

Entranced, he barely noticed himself shifting forward, trying to take silent steps across the room to avoid disturbing Adam. But his hoof met the edge of a cabinet, sending him stumbling forward with a resounding thud. Lucifer winced as he hit the wall, groaning as he rubbed his face, his blush blooming with embarrassment.

Adam’s voice cut off mid-song, and he whipped his head around, eyes wide with alarm before relaxing into soft amusement as he took in the sight of Lucifer kneeling sheepishly on the floor.

"Are you okay?" Adam asked, a smile tugging at his lips as he took in Lucifer's flushed face.

Lucifer scrambled to his hooves, trying to brush it off with his best nonchalant grin.

"Oh, perfectly fine! Didn’t hurt a bit," he lied, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. “Please, continue—I was enjoying the song.”

Adam raised an eyebrow, but he couldn’t hide the slight tremble of laughter as he took in the red line running straight down Lucifer’s face. He chuckled, patting the bed beside him. "Come here, you klutz. How did things go with Charlie?"

Lucifer removed his top hat, setting it carefully on the side table. As he ran a hand through his sleek blond hair, ruffling it until it was charmingly tousled, he took a seat beside Adam, sinking into the mattress. His smile softened, brightening his face.

“It went really well,” he said, voice rich with a happiness he hadn’t felt in ages. He told Adam everything—how Charlie’s spirit, her vision, had grown beyond anything he’d dared hope. “I’m so proud of her! She’s accomplished something I thought impossible… she’s giving sinners a second chance.”

Adam listened closely, laughing at Lucifer’s enthusiastic gushes and nodding with understanding. His eyes sparkled, reflecting every word, full of love for the father and daughter before him. Lucifer felt an urge building inside him—a tender, timid question he wasn’t sure he had the right to ask. Swallowing, he reached a hand toward Adam, gesturing delicately to the baby bump.

Adam glanced down, his eyes softening, then met Lucifer’s gaze with a gentle smile. With a nod, he took Lucifer’s hand and placed it over the warmth of his belly. Lucifer let out a breath, feeling the radiating heat through the fabric, feeling the life beneath his palm. With reverence, he stroked his hand across the curve, his fingers tracing gentle patterns over the hidden little heartbeat within.

As he caressed the bump, he recounted Charlie’s accomplishments—the new ring she’d created, her work with redeemed souls, her unbreakable commitment to helping others find peace. He shared, voice quivering with pride, how she was blossoming into a remarkable young woman.

"She’s giving others what I couldn’t,” he said softly, “A chance to become something more, something good.”

He leaned closer, pressing his cheek to Adam’s belly, letting the warmth seep into him, grounding him in this moment.

Adam’s hand drifted to his hair, fingers carding through the unruly strands. Lucifer nuzzled into the touch, his heart brimming with gratitude and wonder as he murmured, “And she’s found love, Adam. Vaggie is wonderful to her. She has a real family.”

He closed his eyes, pressing his face closer to Adam, feeling tears prick at the corners of his eyes. This was more than he’d ever allowed himself to wish for, a vision of what Hell could be transformed into, softened by compassion and lit by hope.

Adam’s fingers brushed soothingly over his scalp, and his voice was a low, reassuring hum. “And she has you too, you know… her family isn’t complete without you. You make it all possible, Lucifer. Just by being here.”

Lucifer tilted his head up, catching Adam’s gaze, and a silent, fragile understanding passed between them, filling the room with a quiet peace. Adam smiled, a glow of happiness warming his cheeks as he traced a hand along Lucifer’s jaw, cupping his face gently.

“Stay here with me, will you?” Adam asked, his voice soft, an invitation as much as a plea.

Lucifer’s hand covered Adam’s, his thumb stroking tenderly over his knuckles.

"As long as you'll have me," he murmured, his voice full of all the promises he’d never been able to make before, echoing into the quiet, a vow whispered only for them.

Adam’s eyes softened, though a shy smile tugged at his lips as he whispered, “You sure you don’t have to go back to work… tonight? Or tomorrow?”

There was a hopeful, almost timid lilt to his voice, as if he were afraid of the answer.

Lucifer’s frown deepened, and he leaned closer, his hand braced against the mattress, effectively caging Adam beneath him.

“No, I’m on vacation, Adam. For the whole damn week. You remember?” His voice was low, unwavering, and fiercely tender.

Adam flushed, his cheeks warming as he dropped his gaze. “I… I know,” he murmured. “I just… I just wanted to be sure.”

He looked away, biting his lip. “I didn’t want to wake up in the middle of the night and find you gone... working in the office again.”

Lucifer’s jaw tightened, his lips curving into a soft, determined pout as he absorbed Adam’s quiet confession. The thought of Adam waking up alone, of his other self-abandoning their warm bed to chase work—even in the dead of night—left him with a bitter taste.

How could anyone choose work over this? Over him? He shook his head, cupping Adam’s cheek, letting his thumb trail over the flushed skin.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said firmly, his voice rough with promise.

Leaning down, he captured Adam’s lips in a deep, unhurried kiss, sealing his words with the warmth of his mouth. When he pulled back just enough to murmur, he spoke against Adam’s lips, his voice a low whisper. “I’m here tonight, all night. All week. I’m yours. And when I go back, no more late-night work, no more leaving you alone in the dark.”

Adam’s face softened, his breaths growing shallow as Lucifer pressed small, teasing kisses along his mouth, each word laced with a kiss until Adam was breathless and flushed, his golden eyes dazed and glowing. Lucifer leaned back, a mischievous grin dancing across his lips, pride flashing in his gaze. Slowly, he loosened his tie, pulling it free in a single, deliberate movement, then began to unbutton his vest with measured grace.

“How about I show you,” he said softly, his fingers tracing a line down Adam’s side, letting his claws graze over the soft fabric, “Exactly how much I intend to make up for all those nights I wasn’t here?”

Adam’s breath hitched, a fresh blush spreading across his cheeks. Lucifer’s gaze held his, bright and unwavering, as he leaned in, bringing their lips together once more. But this time, his kiss was deeper, fuller, a promise of nights without interruption and mornings filled with soft, secret light.

Adam's eyes widened, and a nervous laugh slipped past his lips as he tilted his head against the plush pillows, his cheeks flushed.

“You’ve been acting so strangely today,” he murmured, his fingertips tracing gentle circles along Lucifer’s cheekbones. His voice was soft and curious, laced with affection.

Lucifer’s heart thudded as he met Adam’s gaze, feeling an electric warmth coil through him.

“I’ve been acting different?” he asked, feeling a slight tremor under Adam’s touch.

Adam nodded, pulling him down into a tender kiss. “Not in a bad way,” he whispered, his lips brushing softly against Lucifer’s, “It’s just… like another person, somehow. You’ve been so sweet and attentive, like I’m the only thing on your mind.”

Adam’s words were punctuated by soft pecks, each one making Lucifer’s stomach flip.

“Another person?” Lucifer’s heart skipped.

Was he that different from the Lucifer Adam knew? He didn’t care—not when he had this chance, not when Adam looked at him like this. He would savour every moment, every glance and touch. He’d take full advantage of this incredible second chance, no matter how fleeting it might be.

“Well then,” Lucifer murmured, his voice soft but laced with a playful edge as he traced his fingers along Adam’s arm, “I hope you’re liking my ‘new self,’ because I have no intention of going anywhere.”

He pulled his tie free with a slow, teasing smile, letting the fabric slide between his fingers before slipping it around Adam’s wrists, gently binding them together.

Adam’s eyes flicked to the tie, a spark of surprise lighting his expression.

“Um, Luci?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Lucifer grinned, showing the glint of his sharp teeth, his eyes glimmering with a heat that made Adam’s cheeks flush a deeper red.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he murmured, his voice a low purr. “I’m just making sure you have all my attention tonight. Wouldn’t want you slipping away before I’ve had the chance to show you exactly what I’ve been planning.”

Adam’s breath hitched, his blush deepening as he swallowed, wide-eyed. But he could see the affection in Lucifer’s gaze, the way he looked at him like he was the only one in the world.

“Oh,” Adam smiled, sliding his bound wrists over Lucifer’s head and pulling him down. “Then, I hope you can live up to those words~”

The grin of Lucifer’s face swiftly became crueller and sharper like.

“Remember, you asked for it~”

The night had stretched on, vivid and electric, far beyond anything Lucifer could have anticipated. It pulsed with life, with something rich and raw that felt forbidden and precious all at once. Adam’s voice—those gasps and breathy whimpers—still clung to the edges of his mind, each sound branding itself into Lucifer’s memory. His hands had traveled across Adam’s body like a map, ensuring that every curve and edge would stay with him, every touch imprinted as much on himself as on Adam. The intensity of it, the sheer rightness, was undeniable.

As they finally curled together in the dim glow of the room, Lucifer felt a warmth he hadn’t known he could crave. Eyes closed, he let himself drift, Adam’s heartbeat a steady rhythm against him. Just a moment, he thought. Just a second, to savor this stillness.

But then—a shiver. Lucifer’s eyes snapped open, and the warmth was gone. He was standing alone, enveloped in a void as silent and consuming as the grave. Darkness surrounded him like smoke, thick and impenetrable. He looked around, heart pounding as he searched the shadows, calling out, "Adam?"

The silence was absolute.

“Adam?” His voice was sharper this time, laced with urgency. But the only answer was an unsettling stillness, one that made the air feel thin and the darkness suffocating.

Then, as if awakening from a trance, Lucifer looked down, realizing he was dressed in his usual red-and-white circus suit, his jacket missing, his bare chest catching the cold, empty air. Dread slithered into his veins, coiling around his bones. He swallowed, his eyes widening as he whispered, "No… no, I don't want to go back.”

“I don’t want to leave this—leave them. I want to stay. I want to stay with Adam. With Charlie. I want—"

The air itself seemed to respond, a cold voice slicing through the void.

“I want my life back.”

A chill crawled up Lucifer’s spine. He spun around, his eyes locking onto a figure that seemed to melt out of the darkness—a figure that looked just like him, but… different. Taller, cloaked in an obsidian-black suit that shimmered like an oil-slick, streaked with deep blues. This was no mere echo. This was him, yet not him, a Lucifer who wore a face twisted by something sharp and bitter.

It was his other self. It was the other worlds Lucifer.

Lucifer’s breath caught. "You…"

The word slipped out as he stared at the apparition. The other Lucifer crossed his arms, his frown cutting sharp lines across his face, eyes narrowed in cold accusation.

"This is my life. My world. You can’t just walk in and take over it."

Lucifer clenched his fists, a fiery heat rising in him. "And why not? You hardly deserve it."

The other Lucifer’s expression shifted, his cool composure cracking to reveal something raw, a jagged edge of emotion. "And you think you do? You think you have a right to steal my life?"

A bitter laugh escaped Lucifer, his anger stoking the embers of his voice. "You’ve been neglecting Adam. You don’t see him. You hardly spend time with him. And Charlie? You ignore her as if she’s a nuisance, a distraction from your precious work!"

The other Lucifer’s eyes flashed dangerously, a faint smirk twisting his lips. "Work? Oh, I’ve been working. You have no idea the burdens I carry, the weight I bear for all of us. But tell me—what makes you think you’re any better? You only wanted Adam because he made you feel again, didn’t you? You were desperate for anything that would break your cursed monotony."

“That’s not true!” Lucifer snarled, feeling something deep and sharp dig into his chest. "I didn’t want to feel. I wanted him. I chose him, long before you ever thought to."

The other Lucifer stepped closer, eyes darkening and let out a sharp, cruel mocking laugh. "Then why did you abandon him in Eden? Why did you pick Lilith? Tell me, if you care so much, why I was the one who chose him, who went to Hell for him!"

Lucifer opened his mouth to retort, but the words stalled. Shame clawed at his throat, bitter and sour. He had left. He had been afraid, unwilling to bear the weight of his choices.

A cruel satisfaction flickered in the other Lucifer's eyes as he watched the effect of his words. “You see? You wanted the dream, but not the cost. And now you come back, playing the saint, claiming my life—my pain, my sacrifices—as your own."

“I don’t want your pain,” Lucifer hissed, his voice low and trembling. “But you’re right. I made the wrong choice. I should have picked him from the beginning, I was distracted by pretty things and empty words. I was afraid. But I’m not that man anymore.”

He stepped closer, his gaze fierce. "I have learned, grown. I can be the partner Adam deserves; the father Charlie needs."

The other Lucifer sneered, bitterness twisting his features. "Spare me your redemption speech. You’ve been playing at change, but in the end, you’re still just a shadow. You’ll break, just as you did before."

Lucifer’s voice dropped to a deadly whisper, his eyes narrowing. “Maybe. But I would rather break for them a thousand times than leave them to a man who cannot see what he has until it's gone.”

The void pulsed, a crackling tension building between them, each holding his ground. The darkness quivered as if it couldn’t contain their fury.

The other Lucifer’s voice crackled through the darkness, laced with fury, contempt—and an undercurrent of bitter sorrow that clung like the smoke of an old fire, too stubborn to be extinguished.

"I’ve seen it all. Every choice you made in your own world. Every twisted game you played in Eden." He spat the words, each one landing like a curse. "You toyed with Adam’s feelings, teased him with glimpses of love only to crush him in ways that would make Hell’s own demons cringe. And don’t think I forgot what you did after that—how you pushed him toward Lilith, only to steal her out from under him. You destroyed them both, and for what? For your own satisfaction? To feel like you had control?"

Lucifer staggered, each accusation striking him like a physical blow. His knees trembled, but he held his ground, feeling a chill seep into his bones.

"And let’s not forget," the other Lucifer continued, his voice a low, venomous hiss, “You were the one who gave Eve the apple, weren’t you? And then—you had the audacity to indulge in your own little threesome with Lilith and Eve the very night humanity fell. How could you ever think you’d make a good partner? A husband? A lover worthy of anyone, let alone my Adam?”

Lucifer felt his throat tighten, shame wrapping itself around his voice, strangling any attempt at protest. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He could only listen, trapped by the weight of his own past, his mistakes reflected at him with a cold, merciless clarity.

The other Lucifer laughed, a harsh sound that echoed through the darkness. “And the bullying afterward—wasn’t it enough to break Adam’s spirit, to rob him of every chance at love, but no, you kept going. Every council meeting with Heaven, every gathering where he had no choice but to face you, you twisted the knife. You flaunted your affairs and mocked him for Lilith, for Eve, for everything he lost because of you.”

He paused, eyes glinting with hatred. “And what did Adam do? Nothing. He fucking sat there and took it, and you never cared.”

Lucifer’s vision blurred as the memories resurfaced, a parade of sins he had long buried but never truly faced.

"And now you want to fucking lecture me?” The other Lucifer’s voice dropped, his face darkening, shadows seeming to twist around him as his anger took form. "Let’s talk about the Exterminations. In your world, both you and Charlie act like they are bad and unneeded, but they are needed.”

“Sinners are here for a reason. They’re not innocent; they’re the very worst of humanity, killers, deceivers, the ones who take and destroy without remorse. Charlie—my Charlie—she’s made strides, yes, but you and I both know that some souls are too twisted to save. And yet, you let her mock Adam, berate Adam for doing what he must. You know what those souls are capable of if they manage to escape. And yet, you still stand in the way, telling yourself you’re somehow better.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Lucifer choked out; his voice raw. "But we both know not all souls are beyond redemption. They need a chance.”

“A chance?” The other Lucifer’s eyes darkened, his mouth twisting in a bitter sneer. "What they need is to be kept from returning to Earth, from reaching Heaven and leaving destruction in their wake. I may have lost my way, but I did what I had to. I protected my Adam, even when he hated me for it. And you? You let your daughter turn her friends against him, against me, knowing full well what would happen if the worst souls were unleashed.”

The other Lucifer’s voice cut through the darkness, each word sharp as a blade, every syllable drenched in a fury that had simmered for centuries.

“You think souls deserve redemption? Let me make this clear—they don’t,” he spat, his words like venom. “Maybe a select few, those rare ones, yes—Charlie’s managed to save them. But even she doesn’t fully understand, can’t possibly see the way those souls are still tainted, still bruised, unable to truly let go of the sins they carried in life.”

His voice dropped, a low, menacing murmur. “Our world had an Extermination, too. When Charlie found out, she pushed back, fought me tooth and nail to change things. So, fine—things are different now, but it’s still happening. Just… slower. Only because I agreed to let her try her way.”

He laughed, a hollow, humourless sound. “But you and I both know the truth, don’t we? Some souls are beyond saving. They’re so far gone that keeping them here is a mistake, a ticking time bomb just waiting to go off. And yet, you let her, your Charlie, and her naive ideals blind you. You play at redemption while ignoring what you know in your bones is true.”

Lucifer’s mouth opened, ready to argue, but the other Lucifer silenced him with a sharp glare, his eyes glowing crimson as horns began to press from his skull.

“You know this better than anyone,” he continued, his voice low and vibrating with rage. “No law, no redemption program, is iron-clad. Someone—one of those twisted souls—is bound to fool her. Eventually, one of those fiends will find a loophole, trick their way up to Heaven, and wreak chaos all over again! You know this, and yet you just let your Charlie berate Adam for doing what his job that he never wanted.”

The other Lucifer took a step closer, each word a lash of fury. “Exterminations are needed. But you’ll never convince her of that, will you? Just like I can’t convince mine. And yet, here you are—standing against me as if you don’t understand the danger. You let her mock your Adam, even encourage her little band of ‘redeemers,’ and for what? Just to protect your image? To pretend you’re somehow more merciful?”

Lucifer felt his chest tighten with something almost like shame, but he forced himself to hold the other’s gaze, even as those eyes burned like twin infernos.

“It’s the same in your universe and mine,” the other Lucifer hissed, his voice a dark, dangerous whisper. “These souls—they’re poison, festering deeper with every day they spend here. And each day more of them arrive. You know that. You feel it. And yet, you still taunted Adam, mocked him for doing his job.”

Lucifer felt the words hammer into him, each one ringing with a painful truth. He thought of the countless meetings, the jabs, the digs he’d made at Adam’s expense, a man forced to carry a burden he’d never asked for.

“A job that you know he didn’t want,” the other Lucifer sneered, his voice breaking with rage. “Heaven damned him, cursed him, forced this role onto him. He didn’t have a choice! Maybe he turned it into a game, a twisted dance to keep himself sane, but what else was he supposed to do? You know he barely has any power. You let your daughter and her friends tear him down, turn him into a villain, and for what? So you could feel sorry for yourself?”

The other Lucifer shook his head, disgust flashing across his face. “You knew about the Exterminations. You knew what those cursed souls would do if they escaped. And still, you hid, pretending to be the victim, playing up the tragic act while Hell turned into a battlefield and the man who once trusted you was left alone to hold it together. You abandoned him and let him bear the weight. And now, you have the audacity to stand here and claim you could do better?”

Lucifer’s voice caught in his throat, every defence he could muster dissolving in the wake of the other’s words. He had wanted redemption, a way to right his wrongs, but now he felt exposed, his mistakes, his cruelty laid bare before him.

The other Lucifer’s expression twisted with raw anger, but there was pain there, too—a pain that mirrored the ache buried in Lucifer’s own heart.

“Maybe I’m cruel. Maybe I’m harsh,” he murmured, his voice finally softening, though the fire still burned in his eyes. “But I’ve done it all to keep this world, our world, from collapsing. And as much as it tears me apart, I’ll keep making the hard choices—if it means keeping Adam safe.”

A silence fell between them, thick and heavy, laden with the weight of everything left unsaid. Lucifer opened his mouth to speak, but the words died in his throat, caught between apology and guilt, and a strange, hollow acceptance. He knew now that he couldn’t fix what he’d done. And standing here, facing himself, he saw that perhaps the other Lucifer’s harsh reality was, in its way, just another form of love—twisted, painful, but love nonetheless.

His eyes gleamed with a vicious light. “You did nothing. You ran away, played the victim. And now, because you lost your Adam, you think you can come and claim mine?”

Lucifer flinched, his chest tightening with the old ache of loss. The memory of his own Adam, gone—vanished into the darkness of his choices, perhaps forever.

The other Lucifer leaned closer; eyes hard. “Yes, I might have been neglectful. Yes, I might have lost sight of what matters. But I can be better. I will be fucking better. I’m not deluding myself about who I am, or the cost of what I’ve done. I’ve sacrificed my time, my love, my life, all to keep Hell in check—to keep the darkness from spilling over. So don’t you dare fucking lecture me on my sins when yours make mine look tame.”

His voice cracked, the rage giving way to something rawer, stripped of the bravado and bitterness. “You know nothing about what it’s like. Adam... he’s fragile in my world. He doesn’t have the immortality of the Adam you lost. His curse wasn’t Lilith’s barren womb—it was something far worse. No immunity. A body as delicate as glass. He can’t go anywhere alone; one illness, one attack, and he could die.”

The other Lucifer’s voice trembled as he spoke, his anger fraying into desperation. “If anyone here knew just how weak he really is… I would lose him. He nearly died when he bore Charlie, and I thought… I thought I’d lose them both. And now? I have another child on the way, and I’m terrified he won’t survive it.”

Lucifer’s gaze fell, shame tightening in his gut. For all his own sacrifices, he had never faced the same fears this other self-had endured, the endless vigilance, the agony of knowing the one he loved was only ever one step away from death.

The other Lucifer looked at him, and for the first time, the anger in his face softened into something like understanding. “I’ve made mistakes. I’ve been cruel, even reckless. But it was all to keep him safe, to keep Hell in order. I’ve seen the horrors that human souls can become, how they twist and corrupt even further in death. And Adam… he’s all I have. So yes, maybe I’ve gone too far. But you? You’ve done worse and still want to pretend you’re the better man.”

He shook his head, his voice a hoarse whisper. “You don’t get to take this from me. Not after everything I’ve done to keep him alive.”

Lucifer looked up, his voice barely more than a murmur. “I… didn’t know.”

The other Lucifer stared at him, silent for a long moment. “No. You didn’t. But that doesn’t excuse what you came here to do.”

He took a steadying breath, his eyes hardening again. “If you care about Adam, if you ever did, then you’ll turn back now. Let me protect him in the only way I know how.”

Lucifer swallowed; his throat tight. He had come here seeking redemption, a chance to rewrite his mistakes, to find a version of Adam he could love without losing himself. But standing here, facing the man he could have become, he saw something he hadn’t expected—sacrifice, duty, and a love that ran deeper than any darkness he had known.

Slowly, he nodded, stepping back into the shadows. “I… I’ll go. But know this. I’m sorry for everything I put him through, for every sin, every betrayal. I got a week off for you, don’t go back to work…spend time with Adam and Charlie, they-they miss you…a lot.”

His voice faltered. “And I hope… I hope you can be the man he deserves.”

The other Lucifer watched him go, his face an unreadable mask. But as Lucifer slipped into the darkness, he thought he saw a glimmer of understanding, a hint of forgiveness—if only a sliver, buried deep within those storm-grey eyes.

“You don’t deserve any Adam and you never will.”

Lucifer closed his eyes – it was painful to hear.

He agreed.

[writingduhh]

i literally got my wisdom teeth removed a few hours ago and i am in PAIN

pls pls can we have some comfort ted to schlatt?

love you sm stay safe 💓💓💓💓

Ahhhh I love this idea! I’m so sorry about your wisdom teeth I’ve heard it’s so painful :( please rest up and take care of yourself! Hope this can offer a little distraction 💜

❥ Jschlatt :

▷ Before your surgery, Schlatt does a deep dive into what you’ll need post-op. How to relieve pain, help you heal faster, and everything in-between. He also makes sure to stock up on tons of soft foods, wanting to make sure you have lots of options

▷ On the way to the office he immediately notices your nervousness. He takes it upon himself to lighten the mood the best he can. If all attempts at humor fail he takes a much sweeter approach.

He lays his hand on your thigh, giving it a tight squeeze. “You’re going to do great, y/n. And I’ll be right here with you.”

▷ After the paperwork has all been signed he tightly hugs you goodbye, gently whispering to you that title be ok. Once you’re taken back he sits down in the waiting room. He insists on staying in the office until you’re done, no matter how long it takes he refuses to leave without you.

▷ As soon as you’re out of surgery schlatt is by your side, making sure you’re comfortable whisky he intensively listens to the nurses aftercare instructions.

▷ Even though you might be a little grumpy or out of it, due to the anesthesia, Schlatt is incredibly patient. If you try to say something but it’s all garbled he listens attentively. He tries his best to decipher your words, occasionally making silly guesses that get you both laughing.

“Can you say that one more time, toots? I couldn’t hear you.”

You rolled your eyes playfully and tried again, but somehow it came out even more garbled this time.

“Uhh… you want me to turn it up? Like the radio?”

“No, no, no,” you mumbled, struggling to get the words out. He looked a little flustered now.

“You want to… fuck? Darlin’, you just got out of—” Before he could finish, you couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

You pointed dramatically at the colorful suckers sat in the cup holder that the receptionist had given you on your way out.

“OH! You want a sucker.”

The two of you broke into laughter, tears forming in your eyes from how hard you were laughing.

Once you both finally caught your breath, Schlatt grabbed one of the suckers from the cup holder and handed it to you, making you smile even wider.

Through the gauze in your mouth you managed to say a “thank you.”

“Of course.” He lovingly says, pressing a kiss on the side of your head.

“Ya know, if you hadn’t just got out of surgery I wouldn’t have said no.” He subtly smirks, earning a playful slap from you.

“Hey! Hey! I’m just being honest.”

▷ When he notices you’re feeling tense from the soreness, schlatt offers to give you a gentle shoulder or neck massage. He’s surprisingly good at it, and you find yourself relaxing under his touch, the pain melting away a bit as he works out the tension.

▷ When you’re too sore or tired to eat by yourself, Schlatt happily feeds you spoonfuls of soup or pudding, joking about how he’s becoming a pro at this. He makes airplane noises just to see you roll your eyes, but you secretly love the attention.

▷ Knowing that you’ve been through a tough time, Schlatt takes it upon himself to spoil you with little gifts. He surprises you with a cozy new blanket, a scented candle, or that book you’ve been eyeing for a while. Each gift comes with a cheeky comment like, “Just a little something to make you smile, even if you’re still puffy.”

▷ He is super protective of you during your recovery. If anyone asks to visit or call, he gently but firmly lets them know that you’re resting and need your space, all while making sure you know that he’s there for anything you need.

▷ He can’t resist teasing you a little about your puffy cheeks, but it’s all in good fun. He pretends to take “before and after” pictures, making goofy faces in each one to match your swollen expression.

▷ If you wake up in the middle of the night feeling uncomfortable or in pain, he is right there to comfort you. He gets you a fresh ice pack, helps you take your meds, and stays up with you until you’re able to fall back asleep, all while holding your hand and whispering reassurances.

❥ Ted :

▷ On the way to the dentist, Ted can sense if you’re feeling a bit anxious. He gives you a lighthearted pep talk, reminding you that it’s just a quick procedure and that he’ll be there every step of the way.

▷ Once you’re taken back into the surgery room he makes his way to a nearby store. He buys all of your favorite treats, drinks, and foods. Well, at least the ones you can eat

▷ Ted is the first face you see the moment you come out of surgery. He gives you a reassuring smile and plants a small kiss on your forehead. Before the nurses can bring out a wheelchair, Ted has already decided to carry you out to the car himself.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks sweetly, cradling you in his arms as he walks through the parking lot.

“Mm, good,” you mumble, your arms snugly wrapped around his neck.

“Alright, let me just figure out how to open the door here…” he grumbles, trying to find a way to reach the door handle without setting you down.

“Ted, it’s okay. You can set me down—I can open my door,” you say softly.

“Nope. It’s my job to take care of you and keep you safe.”

“Well… I think you might need to put me down to be ‘safe,’” you smirk.

He sighs. “Alright, you might’ve got me there.”

Ever so carefully, he lowers you to the ground, his hand resting gently on your back as he ushers you into the passenger seat. He even manages to buckle your seatbelt for you. Not without giving you a quick kiss

▷ On the ride home, Ted reflects on how proud he is of you for getting through the procedure. He playfully teases about how you handled it like a champ and how he’s going to tell everyone how brave you were. His words are full of admiration, making you feel cherished.

▷ When you get home, Ted carefully helps you out of the car, making sure you don’t trip or stumble. He wraps an arm around you to keep you steady, guiding you inside and straight to the couch or bed, where he’s already prepared a cozy spot for you to rest.

▷ Ted is super thoughtful, having already set up a recovery space with everything you might need. He’s laid out blankets, pillows, and has the remote within arm’s reach. He’s also got your medications and a glass of water ready, so you don’t have to worry about a thing.

▷ Once you’re back home and resting, Ted sits quietly beside you, holding your hand or gently stroking your hair. Even if you’re too tired to talk, he stays with you, offering silent support and comfort just by being close.

▷ As you start to come around, Ted sits beside you, keeping the conversation light and soft. He talks about plans for when you’re feeling better, maybe a fun date or a small trip, to give you something to look forward to while you recover.

▷ At night, he insists on sleeping next to you, even if it means squishing into the bed with all the pillows and blankets you have piled up. He keeps an eye on you, waking up occasionally to make sure you’re still comfortable and not in any pain.

[lateatnewyork]

Lilies

part I | part II | part III | part IV

Helion x reader, rhysand x sister!reader

Warnings: fluff, making out, honeymoon bliss, suggestive

Summary: In which you and Helion are happy.

a/n most definitely another filler chapter but the one with drama will be out tmrrw and my schools starting in like four days so the drafts will come out slower

Helion was the best mate anyone could ever ask for. He could cook, he understood my emotions, gave me space, could give amazing cuddles and kisses, he was great in bed but most of all he cared.

In a sense no one had ever done before. When I wanted him home, he was home. When I visited him during a meeting he made me sit in his lap and glared at anyone who decided to mention it.

We had been mated for at least 6 months by now. And it was absolute bliss. Every single day he would wake me up with his head between my legs, every single night he would worship me like a queen. His kisses made my knees weak and my head dizzy.

Sighing at the thought of him kissing me, I continue trying my best at a dish that Rhysand used to cook for me as a child.

Just as I’m about ditch the recipe and head to his office, a strong pair of arms wrap around me.

Melting into his touch, I lean back. He kisses my neck and bites at my soft spot making me moan softly.

“Hey baby,” turning around my hands run through his beautiful hair. His lips find mine almost instantly. My back presses against the counter and I arch into his touch. Pulling him closer my fingers stray to the hem of his shirt.

“As much as I would love to continue this, I have to tell you something,” he pulls away. My kind is still reeling from his intense kisses. Nodding, I ask him to keep going.

“The Night Court wants to negotiate some stuff with us,” he told me.

Raising an eyebrow I beckon him to continue. “I want you to come with me, your first appearance outside of Day Court as High Lady, and I know what you’re going to say, that you’re not ready or you’re not sure, but I know that you’re ready, I also know how much you miss your brother and your nephew,”

He was right, I mean when was Helion ever wrong?

“I suppose Nyx should meet his uncle,” I sigh dramatically.

“Can you help me make this dish, Rhysand used to make it for me,” I ask him.

“Rhysand can cook?” he gapes at me in shock. “You can cook too sweetheart,” I lay a soft kiss on his adam’s apple and start gathering the ingredients.

“I know what you’re trying to make, you relax I’ll make it for you,” Helion says pressing kisses against my shoulder.

He’s elbow deep in flour, looking like an absolute vision. His golden eyes glint in the sun, his tan skin more prominent as the sun started setting.

We had decided to get this house because of its position and how the sun was almost always reflecting some room.

In the mornings it was our bedroom, during the day it was the seating area outside and during the evening it always seeped into the kitchen.

Not that I was complaining, it made the Day High Lord in front of me look softer and almost vulnerable.

“You’re staring, my love” Helion chuckles, his voice oozing smugness. “Is it so wrong for a female to enjoy the view her mate is providing?” I question, teasing.

“No I suppose not, you know I have to put this in the oven for awhile and we have some spare time,” he cheekily suggests.

“What shall we do?” I say feigning innocence. He circles around to the side of the counter where I’m sitting and gently holds my chin, “You’re so innocent right now but wait until I have you begging and writhing underneath me,”

I gulp, his words go straight to my core.

“What are you waiting for then?”

a/n AZRIEL U WISH THIS WAS U anyway don’t think they have ovens in acotar and i js watched the pjo finale and the way luke said annabeth broke me but like my husband looked rlly fine.

[lizartgurl]

In Your Arms (Han Solo x Leia Organa)

Hanleia Week Day Two: Braids and Blood stripes. @hanleiacelebration

Inspired by this piece by @lajulie24. Takes place after the escape from Jabba's palace.

He was breathing, but the air didn't quite reach his lungs. He thought he'd be able to see better now, but he couldn't. It was blurry, why was it still blurry? Dark blurs, light blurs, gray blurs, it all blurred together and it terrified him.

"Han," a firm voice, strong, unwavering.

He turned toward the sound that had broken through. And the darkness that had started to ebb at what was left at his vision gave way to white, like the angels of Iego. He'd heard the deep space pilots talk about them, a ragged beauty being all that was left of a once-divine species. He'd never give the stories much credit, but only one person he knew could ever echo such beauty.

"Leia-" He hated how his voice trembled, but his body reacted on its own, his arms shooting out to pull her close. She gasped at his reflex, but made no protest. Her arms gently wrapped around his head, bringing his ear against her chest.

"Just breathe, Han, just breathe," She whispered. His chest shuddered, like the bursting of a dam. Air flooded his lungs as Leia's warm arms enveloped him, her heartbeat teaching his how to work again. He felt her lips press against his forehead, her fingers carding through his hair.

"You don't have to," He said, suddenly embarrassed and acutely aware of how sweaty he was, and every grain of sand stuck in his hair. First the fever, and then the day spent beneath the twin suns, he'd wanted everyone else to clean up first, insisting he'd take care of himself once his sight returned, but that seemed less and less likely the longer they were in hyperspace.

"I assure you, I'm worse." She laughed softly.

That seemed impossible. Leia smelled great. Then again, his nose was still a little stuffy after being encased in carbonite for two years, but he knew that he could smell the caff on her breath. And not the cheap stuff the alliance stocked in bulk, but the nice stuff, the hazelnut roasted beans that he kept on the Falcon and claimed it was because he liked the stuff, and not because she once said the scent reminded her of her mother's office in the palace on Alderaan. There was also the lingering scent of motor oil, one he'd only briefly come to associate with His Princess in their brief escapade from Hoth, where she'd insisted on helping with the repairs, even though Han hated to let anyone else but Chewie get familiar with the Falcon's inner workings.

Han dug his fingers into the fabric at her back. Her white senate dress had a soft, almost-silky feel, like a cloud from a dream. Between the handfuls of fabric, he felt strands of hair, damp, wet, but soft all the same.

"You were braiding your hair," He murmured, even as exhaustion hit him like a light cruiser.

"Do you want to help me?" She asked.

He shook his head, "I still can't see."

One of her hands left his hair, bringing it to his and guiding his hands to close around a fistful of her locks.

"You've been sleeping too long," Leia said. Her thumb caressed the corner of his eye, taking with it a single tear. She sat in front of him on his bunk, Han could still feel the warmth of her body just in front of him.

If he squinted, he could make out the difference between the darkness of her hair and the white of her dress. He really liked this dress. It made her look regal, like the princess she was supposed to be, and he knew she was comfortable in it.

He followed the strands of hair up to where they met her head at the nape of her neck. He divided the fistful of hair into sections of three, and started braiding, hoping that he didn't get them tangled. He'd originally learned how to make a braid as a kid, it was better for making stronger rope and stuff, but he'd gotten his best practice in when he started hanging around the Rebellion, hanging around Leia.

The more he squinted, the more his eyes watered, almost like they were cleaning themselves. By the time he'd finished the one braid down her back, he was seeing just enough to know that the one he'd made was not as nearly as good as the other braid she'd done for herself.

But Leia didn't seem to mind, twisting both of them up over her head in a bun anyway. She smiled at him, "Thanks, hotshot," She murmured, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Han placed his arm around her waist before she could leave, "Don't go," he begged, "Not just yet." His vision was getting better, but he didn't trust his eyes just yet. Some irrational fear scurried around the back of his mind, warning that if he took his eyes off his Princess, even for a moment, he would lose her again.

Leia paused, though she hadn't made any indication to move away from him. She dropped her hair, and raised her hand to his cheek. Han leaned against the touch. She was warm, safe, everything that Jabba's palace wasn't.

And she was here. She was safe. He hadn't managed to fail her yet.

"I won't," Leia promised, "I'm not going anywhere."

[itsmaferart]

SPY x FAMILY x CHAIR Vol. 7~8~9

SxF Vol 7 · Damian Desmond - Willow Chair

The Willow Chair was designed by Scottish architect Charles Rennie Mackintosh in the early 20th century. The chair was originally designed for use in The Willow Tea Rooms Company, a cafe and tea room that Mackintosh also designed in Glasgow, Scotland. The chair was part of a larger collection of furniture pieces designed for this company.

The concept of tea rooms was popular in Victorian and Edwardian times, and was considered a meeting place for the upper middle class.

The design shows a progressive approach to design, suggesting that the chair is at the forefront of creative thinking and is sleek, modern and curious. It stands out for its simplicity in geometric patterns. The chair features straight, minimalist lines in its structure, with curved wooden elements at the top to provide head and neck support.

A distinctive feature is its triangular backrest, which extends upward from the arms at an acute angle to create a sleek and elegant silhouette. The seat also features an elaborate lattice pattern, made from hand-woven wicker, which adds texture and dimension to the chair.

I’m Damian, scion of the Desmond family! I’ll be a politician one day and protect this country!

I love the way the dimension of the chair in disproportionate to Damian's body, who is clearly a kid with a very big precedent behind him, a very big ego and pride in possessing the last name Desmond, and it projects very well the way it makes Damian look more imposing for his age while giving you a look that continually judges you, adorably.

Damian is someone who projects himself from greatness, and his constant yearnings to be a recognized figure such as his family, even so, his childlike soul continues to exist.

However deep down, behind all the Desmond pride (Reflected in the chair) are his yearnings to really have fun and enjoy his childhood wanting to play with his balls, read manga, play with dinosaurs. He is definitely a little boy with a lot behind his shoulders.

SxF Vol 8 · Franky Franklyn - Eames Lounge chair & Ottoman

The Eames Lounge Chair and Ottoman were designed by Charles and Ray Eames in 1956, an American designer couple.

It was created from the idea of a "comfortable as a glove" chair, with an ergonomically molded seat and back shell combined with a plywood base. It was originally designed for the Herman Miller furniture company.

It was designed to provide comfort and relaxation, elegant and attractive that will complement any living space. The chair features clean, simple lines and a minimalist structure that emphasizes its elegance and ergonomics. The base is made of plywood, bent in several layers and smoothly polished to give it a smooth, refined finish.

Can we talk about how relaxed and cool Ostania's best informant looks? I love how the combination of this chair reflects Franky's relaxed but refined personality, a genius at his job even if often not properly appreciated. However, we can see his details, a bit messy, his taste for money, some good cigars, some confidential envelopes.

It's interesting when you remember that Franky seems to hate the handsome, moneyed show-offs who seem to be very lucky, even though he wishes he was one. He is simple and laid back, with a classy side and a profitable bottom line.

SxF Vol 9 · Becky Blackbell  - Coconut Chair

The Coconut chair was designed by architect and designer George Nelson in 1955 who was the design director for Herman Miller.

The chair was inspired by the designer's tropical landscape during his visit to the Fiji Islands. Nelson observed a group of children playing with one half of a coconut shell and realized that the shape and curve of the coconut shell could be harnessed to design a comfortable, modern chair. It was created as a highly engineered piece of furniture that offered a high level of comfort.

Although originally designed as a lounge chair, the Coconut chair is suitable for any space, from offices to homes. The stainless steel tripod base is an attractive design element, its fine details such as the apparent stitching on the upholstered

"You and I should be best friends"

I like how both the Coconut chair and Becky could be described as elegant, sophisticated, avant-garde and with a lot of personality. Despite her young age, we know that Becky has a very definite personality, sometimes with a very volatile and fanciful imagination.

Unlike many Spy x Family characters and their respective chairs, the elements are usually placed at the back or bottom with respect to the chair, always covered by some slight shadow, reflecting those elements that characterize the respective personality.

However, all of Becky's things are clearly displayed and stacked with bright colors. We know that it refers to all the riches and luxuries Becky has, as well as her passion for fashion and shopping.

But also, it's a way of expressing how authentic Becky is and how she's not afraid to show her true personality without having to hide it.

You can read the previous review here!

You can read the next part here

[squad-724]

Oof I’ve had a couple rough weeks at uni, have padmecker artwork I’ve been slowly working on. It’s an illustration for a short fic of the two of them, a twin piece to @electrikworm ’s fic

“There.” Padmé sighed as she put down the stylus, a moment ago used to correct the few words of her next speech on the Senatorial Ball she was organizing with Bail and Riyo to warm her colleagues up to the clones. A small tactic to make them look more sentient and humanoid than what they officially were written as in the law. One step closer to the bill that would recognise them as citizens of the Republic.

She straightened up in her seat, her back cracking in a few places, making her wince. No matter how much the chair cost, five hours of no movement will make her body ache. And because of the non-stop debates in the rotunda she had no time to prepare it earlier; the ball was the next day.

Padmé took her time, finishing sipping the cold caf she got delivered back when there was still sunlight, watching the lights of the Planet That Never Slept flicker in the distance. She knew how they looked up close, both on the triple zero and in lower levels she so rarely visited; only going there for her rare dates that she still had to hide from the public. If the media learned about her relationship with a clone, the whole rights bill could be compromised.

Sometimes she didn't care, wishing to be able to take Wrecker to one of the fancy restaurants, let him taste all the amazing foods she could get him, to walk around in broad daylight, visit museums and opera. She wished she could spoil him as much as he deserved.

But it would have to wait. Padmé knew she would make sure he and his brothers could soon walk around as fully free citizens.

“You done?” The senator almost jumped out of her seat as a male voice came from the doors to her office space.

“On the moons Anakin you scared me,” Padmé let out a sigh of relief, and the jedi laughed at her reaction. “What are you still doing here, you were supposed to leave hours ago.”

“Eeeh, I think I should give Rex a little room to breathe. He almost strangled me after I threw him down that hole two days ago.”

“And you don't want to spend the night on observation with Kix.”

“And I don't want to spend the night on observation with Kix, and Rex WILL rat me out in an act of revenge.” He walked over to her balcony doors, grabbing one of the donuts she kept on her desk, her favorite one she kept for last. “I'll sleep at Snip’s new apartment, apparently she got a great deal from the landlady that had a good family history with the Order, and didn't need a down payment. I'll see you at the ball.” He waved her goodbye and jumped down the balcony. Padmé knew he called R2 to come pick him up, just as all the times he decided to have that dramatic of an exit. One day he would fall and break his neck, and that would be karma for stealing the best donuts.

There was nothing more Padmé wanted than to sleep. But she desperately needed to shower, and knew Clone Force 99 was about to enter the Coruscanti atmosphere in a few moments.

She met the squad only a few months back, the four clones called as her escort during a mission. At first she was surprised at the differences from normal troopers, but soon learned about their mutations and special enhancements that were made to them.

Each one of them was unique and interesting, but it was Wrecker who caught her eye, his eyes that kept looking at her with awe when he thought she didn't notice, but also the difference between his pure show of power in opposition of how gentle he was with her.

He had that charm and authenticity that all her previous suitors lacked, speaking his mind and not carefully picking lines of dialogue they practiced before each meeting. He was himself at all times, and who he was was a man of big heart. And Padmé couldn't deny him the beautiful musculature and tanned skin.

And now, after three weeks of a comms-out mission, he and his brothers were coming for a personal debrief with commander Cody, and to crash at her flat for a few days.

She already stocked her fridge with food, readied her three guest rooms with a fresh set of beddings and towels. Yeah maybe she was playing favorites with that, but no one deserved being pampered like these four. Especially Wrecker.

As she waited for the clones to arrive she took a quick shower and brushed her teeth, finally getting rid of the acidic aftertaste of caf on an empty stomach. Once she put on her face mask, she got a ping on her datapad reading “Be there in 5 ;)”.

Padmé got her droid to brew some tea when the doorbell rang out. All of her sleepiness evaporates in an instance when she runs to the door.

She isn't done opening them properly before a massive set of hands hauls her off the floor and into a spinning hug that ends with a keldabe kiss.

“Hi sweetheart,” Padmé breathes out, looking into Wrecker's mismatched eyes. She locks her hands around his neck, pulling him close into a proper kiss. Oh how she missed it.

“Ekhm, we're still in the doorway love doves,” a snarky voice brings them back into reality, Wrecker laughing as he moves deeper into the apartment, letting his brothers in. “Great. I'm taking the bathtub first.” A few voices of protest ring out as Crosshair bolts to the refresher.

“Sorry for the wait, there were some issues with the docking system and they didn’ want to let us down to the planet.” Wrecker finally let Padmé down, putting his bag down soon after.

“Not your fault, I just barely finished my job anyways, didn't have to wait for long.” She stood on her tiptoes to land another kiss on her boyfriend’s scarred cheek, making him blush. No matter how many times she did it, the giant clone got red after signs of any affection.

“Thanks for letting us stay,” Hunter all but collapsed on the couch, cup of freshly brewed tea in hand. He looked a little roughed up, his cheek covered in a fresh dressing, left eye sporting a bruise. “I don't think I could survive another night bunking on the ship with those three idiots.”

Padmé laughed as a choir of three voices raised up with a complaint. She sipped her herbal tea. She had missed this.

Not just Wrecker, but his whole family. How much life they brought to this otherwise empty apartment. The sound of bickering during breakfast preparation, doors opening and closing when they left for the town, repetitive whirring coming from Tech's room, muted music from Crosshair's.

“I am completely exhausted, so I'll be waiting for you in bed. I don't want to smell ANY grease or pickled feet when you join, so take a bath beforehand.” Padmé smooched Wrecker one last time, putting down her cup next to the dishwasher, before she wished the clones goodnight and retreated into her own bedroom.

As much as she complained about the costs of her sheets to Sabé, in moments like these every single credit spent on them seemed worth it. She slipped under the covers, sighing softly as the pain in her back quieted down just a little bit. She had to wake up in the morning for the last dress try on, and then get her hair done before the ball. How lucky she was that a highly experienced squad of troopers was available as her security for the event.

Padmé felt herself fall asleep just as the mattress next to her dipped significantly. Wrecker put his calloused hand on her back, sneaking it under her shirt and drawing slow circles in between her shoulder blades.

“Mmm I really need to sleep my dear, we will have the whole night to ourselves tomorrow.” she murmured into her pillow, relaxing her back under the soft pressure of his palm.

“Then sleep cyar’ika.” The trooper whispered, drawing his thumb up and down her spine, kneading the locked up muscles into relaxation. Padmé knew how firm they must have felt, and let her boyfriend smooth them out as they slowly fell into a rhythm.

“Does anything else hurt?” Padmé could feel his warm breath on her cheek. She could deny it, let him lay down next to her. But, it felt so nice to be taken care of like that.

“Right arm, think I was holding my stylus too tightly.” She didn't even open her eyes as she turned on her side, reaching out the hurting limb.

With a gentleness a man of his frame seemed incapable of, Wrecker took it, moving it to face the palm up, and began massaging it too.

He started with her finger, so delicate and small in the embrace of his giant ones. Each one was delicately pinched in between his pointer finger and thumb, joints muscles and tendons kneaded into relaxation.

Then came the palm, painfully wiry, with the muscles tensed and coiled from the long hours of no rest. Wrecker's fingers carefully massaged them, and Padmé let out a few hisses of pain before these too relaxed into comfy hums as her boyfriend helped her with the pain.

She thought it would be it, but he continued the comforting movements on her forearm, now his actions bringing her more of a relaxing effect rather than purely pain relivement.

Wrecker arms continuously moved his hands up and down her forearm, drawing circles with his thumbs, making her back shiver with pleasure. She didn't even realize how wiry her muscles got until he made them relax, his fingers digging into knots deep into her limb.

“How did you learn to do this?” She murmured, her voice partially muted by the pillow she was laying on. Wrecker’s mismatched eyes didn't leave her arm, but she definitely saw the slight smirk under his nose.

“All of us got some pains a massage helps with. I was the first to need them, my growing pains making my whole body ache until I couldn't move. That's when Tech found some texts on holonet to teach me so I could do them before sleep. Then it turned out that Hunter's migraines can be lessened if you relieve the pressure on the neck,” Wrecker's pressure on Padmé's arm became weaker and weaker, his body slowly sumping to the side. “Tech tends to fall asleep on the pilot seat and next to his workbench, and I deal with his back afterwards.”

The senator gently pulled her boyfriend to lay down, his heavy body hitting the mattress. He didn't say anything, but let out a hum of comfort, wriggling closer to her, wrapping his arms around her much smaller waist. He was very warm, making Padmé shiver.

“Mmm, I'm glad you're here.” she settled her forehead just above his heart, taking comfort in the sound of the beat. Strong, just like him.

“Wish I could stay,” one of his arms moved to the base of her skull, gently scratching her hair bulbs, often sore from the extravagant hairstyles she wore on a daily basis. The hair and dresses, what she was most known for. A beauty of Naboo, queen and senator Amidala whose spirit never yielded. Just like her looks she never did anything halfway, giving her everything into how she presented herself as how she protected the innocents of the Republic.

But there she was, her hair in disarray, wearing an old t-shirt and underwear that has been for sweet release of the trash bin for months, and Wrecker was here, calling her beautiful in the pure darkness, his arms a comforting weight. Here, she was Padmé Naberrie, spending one of her rare moments with a man that found her beauty not in the make-up, dresses or jewelry, but her genuine laugh, lacking cooking skills, and the ability to stand her ground to help him and his brothers become people in the eyes of law.

He would protect her planet, while she secured his future.

Thank you Manhattan for edits and beta reading!

[captainamericasmotercycle]

Jake would also be a great fit for the prompt I just sent you, I copy-pasted the prompt from my notes app prompts list and forgot to change the name.

part of my 500 follower celebration!!!

Never Letting Go

pairing: Jake Seresin x fem!reader

warnings: smut, MINORS DNI, 18+, angst, fluff, p in v sex, penetration sex, mentions of money, cowgirl/missionary, jake being in LOVE, me knowing nothing about the military

wc: 1.7k

a/n: ok i had so much fun writing this one so i hope you guys like it!!

prompt: you break up with Jake to try and make sure he doesn’t turn down the dagger squad’s permanent stationing in order to stay with you, and Jake is not having any of that and fucks you so well he shows you just how much he loves you and isn’t letting you go?

absolutely DO NOT steal my work and post it on other platforms. DO NOT feed my work to AI fuck that

You and Jake have been together for almost 2 years. You met in your hometown of Dallas, Texas; you worked in an office in Dallas’s CBD and Jake was stationed just outside of Dallas.

The two of you had run into each other at the grocery store, Jake was fairly new to the area, having grown up in Austin, and he looked a little lost, so feeling pity on him, you decided to help him out. After the long - but not grueling - shopping trip, Jake offered to take you out and of course you accepted.

Ever since then you’ve been attached at the hip. Until now.

Only months ago, Jake was called back to Top Gun for a dangerous, top secret mission. And since his team’s performance during the mission was so high, the squad was offered a permanent spot as a special operations team at Top Gun Academy.

When he told you the news you couldn’t help but be ecstatic for him because you know he’s worked so incredibly hard for this.

You dwelled on the pros and cons of moving to California when you realized that you were only holding Jake back, there was no way that he would go without you but you couldn’t just pick up your entire life and move out to San Diego. I mean you have a job and a life here! Not to mention how expensive Cali is! You just didn’t want him to stay because of you.

There was no way in Hell that you would get between him and his job, so you made the toughest decision, probably of your entire life. You have to break up with him.

You made sure everything was ready by the time he got back to your shared apartment. Dinner was made, the space was cleaned, the table was set, and your head was a mess.

He greeted you with the most loving smile as he walked in the door, which only made a pit form in your stomach. How are you supposed to end things with the person you love most in the world?

Halfway through dinner you decided to start, “Jake, about your job,”

“Yeah, isn’t it amazing, baby?”

“It is so amazing and I am so happy for you because you deserve this more than anyone,” you trailed off and he picked up on your tone.

“But you don’t think I should take the offer?”

“No! No, that’s not it. I think you should take the offer. But I also think we should break up,” you whispered the last part into an almost silent room.

Jake dropped his fork immediately and froze, “Excuse me?”

“I think we should break up. I’m holding you back Jake, I don’t want to get in between you and what you love most,”

“Baby, you are what I love most,”

“Jake, please just listen. I love you so much and you know I only want the absolute best for you. And I think this is the best option for you, for us.”

Jake stood abruptly and paced around the small living room. He didn’t say a word.

“Please say something,” you stood closely behind him.

“We’re not breaking up,”

“You have to take this job, it’s everything you’ve been working up to and I am not going to be the one to hold you back and—“ he cut you off sharply with a kiss and mumbled into your mouth.

“I would never leave you,” he nipped at your jawline and the higher parts of your neck.

This could not be happening right now. This was not how this night was supposed to go, but you couldn’t stop a slight moan escaping from your lips. If you were going to leave him, you felt like you deserved one more time with him.

You pushed him away to hold his face. You looked into his eyes, then found his lips, and kissed them roughly, “Please Jake, I need you, one last time,”

That’s all he needed to hear and he had you in his arms, carrying you to your shared bedroom. He tossed you on the bed, practically ripping his shirt off, he hovered above you, taking your shirt and bra off next.

He sucked on your chest, leaving love bites on the very top of your breasts. “I’m going to fuck you stupid until you get this idea of you holding me back out of your head.”

He moved down to your shorts, pulling them off as quickly as possible, taking your underwear with them.

He kissed the insides of your thighs, making his was up to your core.

He removed his mouth and let two of his fingers press inside of you. He kissed up your stomach as he pumped his fingers deep inside of you and relished in the way you were almost incoherently moaning.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he held down your hips as he began to lightly suck on your clit. You couldn’t help but let out a pornographic moan.

You didn’t mean to feel the need to release so quickly but you couldn’t help it. You wanted every part of him and you didn’t want to leave him.

He quickened his pace causing you to scream out with pleasure. He pulled his fingers from you and sucked your juices off his hand.

He unbuckled his belt and yanked down his pants, pulling out his hard length. He teased your entrance with his cock, slapping the surface lightly. You were almost a whimpering mess underneath him.

He finally pushed into, both of you letting out a long noise of satisfaction. Jake murmured curses of pleasure under his breath and his thrusted into you.

He had you on your back, your legs on either side of him. He pulled your legs to wrap around his waist and thrusted into you harder.

Jake was now leaning completely over you, his hand on either sides of your breasts, him kissing down your neck, and his stupidly hot dog tags dangling over you as you practically screamed out for him.

He pulled back from your neck and started kissing down your chest again, loving the way your boobs moved as he fucked you into the mattress.

Your nails dig into his back as he starts thrusting at a faster pace.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so good for me,” God he may as well just get you pregnant at this point.

You started to feel a build in your stomach, again. You could tell he was close too because his thrusts started to falter.

He began to pull out to cum, when you tugged him closer to you, keeping him inside. He looked at you with a hunger as you both reached your climax, crying out profanities.

He hung his head low until flipping you over until you were sitting on top of him. He pushed himself up the bed, propping himself up, you still on top.

Holding down your hips, a firm grip on them, you began to bounce up and down on his cock. He finally speaks for the first time, rebounding from the babbling mess you had made of him earlier.

“Baby, I’m not leaving you here,”

You wrapped you arms around his neck for a steadier ride. “Jake-“

“I don’t care, I will turn it down,”

“Absolutely not,” you began to bob faster as you got more flustered, “I want you to go, Jake,”

“I want you to go with me, I thought that was a given,”

“But my job, we can’t afford for only one of us to work,”

He moved his hands up and down your torso, grabbing and squeezing at your tits.

“Yes we can, I have a trust fund, I’ll make sure you never work another day in you entire life. I’ll make you my wife so you can live on base. Or we don’t have to live on base, I’ll buy us a mansion and whatever you want in it.”

There was nothing hotter than seeing the man you love offer to take care of you for the rest of your lives. You want to be with him so bad.

You want every part of him. His highs, his lows, his good days, his awful days, you want it all and everything in between.

Hearing him coax you down from the ledge only made you want him more. Pushing you over the edge of another orgasm. He took you lips with his as you finished for the third time, him for the second.

You pulled away off of him and curled up by his side, resting your head on his chest. He wrapped his arm around your body and kissed your forehead gently, “I promise I’ll take care of you, baby. Don’t worry about any of this,”

“I want to go with you, Jake, if you’ll have me,”

“I want you more than anything on this entire planet, and don’t you doubt it for a second that I would never leave you,”

You pressed a chaste kiss to his jawline, whispering close to him, “I love you, Jake.”

He looked down at you with gentlest expression you’ve ever seen and kissed you again, “I love you and I’m never letting you go.”

It was time to start a new chapter with the love of your life, (and Jake was right, he did fuck you stupid until you dropped the idea of you burdening him and holding him back).

[koishiro]

# - 𝐏𝐀𝐘 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 : fluff, suggestive

masterlist | jjk masterlist | anon masterlist

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎  ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶

When Gojo wants attention he makes it everyone’s problem. He’ll do anything in his power just to get an ounce of your time. Not to mention he’s more vocal than anything. So as you’re sat at your desk, pen in hand as you mark last week’s homework you hear the tell-tale sounds of a grown man rolling back and forth on your office floor.

“Honeyyyy”

Ignoring his continuous whining you continue on with marking your student’s hand-ins as your husband flops back and forth in an attempt at gaining your attention.

“It’s been thirty (30) minutes!! Have I done something again?”

At this point he’s given up with mindlessly rolling on your floor, instead taking it upon himself to wrap his long limbs around you - in essence caging you against your chair.

Rolling your chair back Gojo falls to his knees, moving to wrap his arms around your waist and head on your lap, “babyyyy - my sweet, sweet mochi - I’ll die without your love!”

Which led you up to now, sat on Gojo’s lap as he takes your place in your chair, his arms wrapped tightly around your mid section as he spreads an array of kisses from your neck to your shoulder and so-forth.

“See, this ‘s much better hm?”

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔  ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶

Unlike his former friend, Geto is subtle when it comes to moments like these. He doesn’t care when or where you both are, if he wants attention, he’ll get it one way or another.

If you’re paying more attention to someone else you best know he’ll stretch his arm across you

Like right now, sitting next you on your shared couch while he sports a very obvious pout but not so obvious for you to catch on - too immersed in your conversation to notice.

Stretching his arm above your head to what you thought was your boyfriend repositioning himself into a more comfortable position until you felt the quick fingers of your boyfriend snatch your phone with the speed and precision of a trained athlete.

You felt cheated; that is until his lips softly grazed your earlobe before uttering four simple words, “wan’ your attention darlin’”

And so it continues,

As you’re cooking in the kitchen, you hear the padded feet of your boyfriend nearing closer before the feeling of his bare chest hit your back, his large calloused hands kneading the fat of your tummy.

“Sleep okay?” His morning voice was a gruff whisper, barely audible even in the stillness of the room. It softened when he spoke to you, though you knew it took great effort for him to do so; meekly murmuring his words as if they were meant only for you, forming your own intimate secret within your shared space.

Humming back in a tired ‘yes’, you waited patiently for the two slices of toast to pop out. His voice broke into your silence, snapping you out of your trance, "Why'd you get up so early hm? Missed ya warmth," he went on. His gentle words carried through the kitchen and beyond, washing over you like an enveloping blanket while you watched as countless molecules of butter slowly melted down the knife you held onto tightly when at last they emerged from the toaster.

Feeling a slight pinch on the flesh of your tummy snapped you back into reality, “oi, pay attention to me princess”, he all but whined.

Feeling his hand sneak it’s way towards your own he gently placed the knife down, feebly nudging your body towards the hall that led to your shared bedroom, “come back t’bed ‘n keep me warm m’kay?”

𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐘𝐔𝐉𝐈  ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶

This would affect Yuji big time, he’d have trouble computing if he doesn’t receive his daily dose of affection.

He’d often be found clinging onto you or at least somewhere in your vicinity so when he’s seen trudging around school grounds, tired after training with Gojo it’s already known that he’s on his way to your dorm.

The first thing Yuji did was face plant on your cold and unoccupied bed planning on cuddling up to you and washing away his thoughts and worries until he realises you weren’t there. Instead, you were too preoccupied at your desk to notice your own boyfriend’s arrival.

“Baby?” The sound of your boyfriend could be heard from across the room, almost a low quiet whisper, “you okay?”

The simple question made you smile, wanting nothing more than to wrap yourself in the comfort of his arms but the pressure of your current assignments due in by tomorrow held you back.

You gave a simple nod in response not wanting to tear your eyes away from the page in possibility of losing focus and getting distracted by the puppy dog eyes you know held place on his face.

You felt the weight of Yuji’s head rest against yours as he slung his arms over either side of your shoulders as he continued, “why don’t you come to bed? You can finish this in the mornin’, you got class in the afternoon don’tcha?”

“Yuji I can’t, I really have to get these done tonight” of course though, Yuji wouldn’t take this lightly, he’d lean his entire body weight on you - practically going limp as he continues his complaints,

“I’ll help you if you just come to bed, I promiseee” this didn’t exactly convince you per-se but the thought of carrying on studying until the early hours wasn’t exactly appealing.

Minutes later you were tucked under your duvet, a heap of blankets scrambled on top as you tangled your limbs with Yuji’s. His face nestled in the crook of your neck as squeezes the fat of your thigh every now and then.

“See, isn’t this much better”

𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎  ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶

Just like Geto, Megumi isn’t exactly vocal when it comes to - well, anything really. But especially not when it comes to affection or more specifically wanting attention.

He held small little give-aways like when he’d tug on the end of your shirt or hooked a finger in your belt loops if you strayed too far or how he’d play with the ends of your hair if he felt anxious or overstimulated.

Megumi’s thought process is that he doesn’t want to get too attached but he also certainly doesn’t want to chase you away by any means.

Which results in you having to make the first move half the time like right now, feeling the burning gaze of your boyfriend from the living room he’s currently sat in - not once tearing his eyes away from your figure in the open kitchen.

This was one of Megumi’s endearing traits, silently asking for your attention which usually you had no complaints about but there were times where you played along acting as if you hadn’t the faintest clue of what he wanted.

Megumi's eyes glimmered, shifting between yours and the empty space next to him on the loveseat, silently asking you to join him. His expression was earnest but restrained - he wanted you there with him but seemed too embarrassed by his own feelings to make it obvious. From across the room you could see a slight flush of pink hue across his cheeks, almost like a plea for your company without any words needing spoken between them.

He tried to contain himself as he waited, but it was visible in the way his body shifted closer and closer towards the edge of his seat, aiming to close up some of the vast space separating you. His fingers fumbled with themselves as they traced along the fabric of his sweatpants in an anxious rhythm; indicating that something was on his mind. A small lip bite only added to this eagerness until you eventually returned and took your place next to him.

Megumi shifted ever so closer to you, and you felt a dip in the couch beside you as your body moved towards his. He took the opportunity to wrap an arm around your waist while he tugged you against him, your legs entwined with no space left between you. His breath was warm in contrast to the chill of winter outside, and you could feel his heart beating steadily against yours like a lullaby soothing away any doubts; apparently, you were close enough now.

Megumi rubbed the skin of your thigh as it lay across his, “stop going too far, I want you here”

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎  ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶

Oh you’ll know if Toji is touch starved and deprived of attention. He’ll have his large calloused hands rubbing up and down your body 25/8.

He doesn’t care where you are, if he wants you he’ll have you. Even as you’re in the farmer’s market, he’s stood tall behind you his hands rubbing you up and down keeping the heat radiating from your body.

He stood behind you in the farmer's market, his hands kneading your body through the fabric of your clothing. His heat seemed to seep inside of you and overtake every sense within reach. You could feel his desire lingering like a cloud around you; it was clear he wanted every inch of what you had to offer and no matter where you were, he would take what is rightfully his.

He’d rub and grab at anything in reach as if restoring heat into your body - letting his touch be known even through the crowds of people bustling around.

“What about tomatoes, will you eat those then?” You’ve had a hard time so far convincing Toji he needed to eat at least something healthy.

“Nah,” you clearly weren’t having much luck with the big mountain-of-a-man clinging onto you from behind while simultaneously smacking his hand if it wandered too far.

“Then what do you want to eat?” You had been wandering round the market for at least an hour in an attempt to at least find one thing your husband will eat for dinner. Toji’s been more of a man-baby as of late which included being more handsy, huffing and puffing anytime you left the room, and of course wasting time at the market just so he could get a few extra minutes clinging onto you.

It would’ve been endearing had he not been trying to cop-a-feel any chance he could get; hands sliding too far up your shirt to be socially accepted, slapping your ass every time you bent to pick something up and even nudging your head back with his hand around your neck if you so happened to ignore something he said followed by the constant innuendos.

“I’d rather eat what’s between your thighs”

𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈  ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶

Toge is the most subtle out of everyone unless you’re both alone of course, since he’s not able to use speech he’ll be more physically affectionate, that includes softly wrapping his around your waist when your back’s turned, soft surprising kisses on the back of your neck if you’re too engrossed in studying and even cozying up to you, shuffling into your space as you both often lie there in silence.

That’s one of those moments, you’re lying on the couch with a book in hand - too engrossed with the words staining the page to notice a small head of white hair padding his way towards you.

Feeling a movement on the couch, you shift your eyes towards the culprit of the noise only to find two amethyst puppy-like eyes staring straight back at you as if caught in the act.

Which he technically was; one hand held your top up while his head was caught mid-dive, ready to slither his way under your shirt. This only deterred the boy for a minute, soon gaining back his composure before continuing his path under and out the top of your (his) shirt.

“Happy now?” Placing one hand on top of the white mess he calls hair, gently stroking and playing with each strand like you would a cat. Toge all but hums in contentment, now filled with warmth and the satisfaction of gaining your attention even if just for a moment as you turn your head back towards the pages of your book.

This wasn’t enough for Toge though, a quick pinch to your thigh telling you exactly that. Another quick pinch followed by a ‘hmph’ indicated he wanted more, “hm?”

Nudging his head towards the book you held in one hand, you understood what he was after, “wan’ me to read t’ you?” Quickly answered by a small nod, you did just that.

Turning your gaze back to the pages once more you started from the beginning of your chapter, a pleased and satisfied smile on both your faces.

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈  ੈ✧̣̇˳·˖✶

Surprising to a lot of people, Nanami is quite open with you. He doesn’t usually hold back when you’re both in the confines of your home but it’s rare,

Both being extremely busy leads to you waking up at different times, always missing the other before heading to work. Of course you’d share fleeting glances and quick kisses anytime you could, but it didn’t make up for the sheer emptiness you both held in your heart.

Being so busy often meant that you’d forgetfully leave your lunch behind, only remembering once your lunch break came up. Lately though, you had started work earlier than your husband causing you to wake up earlier than he usually would which would result in Nanami trudging into the kitchen after a routined kiss goodbye only to find your bento box sat on the middle of the counter… next to your purse.

At first Nanami would worry, thinking that you’d go without for the rest of the day knowing you never eat breakfast until a smile would lift at the corners of his lips, realising he could deliver it himself.

And that’s just what Nanami did, striding through the school’s hallways in search of your office. Knocking on your door in a rhythm kept hidden between you both, he entered through the small crack he created.

“Darling?” It was obvious you were too absorbed in your work to notice your husband’s sudden presence. Nanami stood quietly in the open space of your office, not knowing exactly what to do.

Seeing a dark coloured bento box being placed on the side of your desk out of the corner of your eye you lift your head up, surprised to see your husband stood before you, “Kento?”

The man in question made his way to your side, brushing a hand through your hair before placing a kiss on your forehead, “you forgot your bento”

“What would I do without you,” a small content smile spread its way onto his face, happy to have spent an extra few minutes with you that you normally wouldn’t have. Nanami let his hand fall from playing with your hair to the top of your arm, running his thumb soothingly up and down.

You had a sense that Kento was hesitant with leaving by the way he loitered at your side and the pressure he kept around your shoulders.

“You okay?” You ask him, swivelling your chair to face him. Nanami takes the chance to take hold of your hands,

“mhm, jus’ miss you is all” you barely heard before his lips landed on your own.

—

— 𝘒𝘰𝘪 𝘹𝘰

[featheredclover]

Orphic

Chapter Five

Read from the beginning

Also on Wattpad

Chapter Four < Chapter Six

The birds chirped along as they fluttered from branch to branch. But the day greeted the Gupta mansion with much less peace that morning.

Khushi bit into her toast, as Sumi poured juice into her glass.

“Shashi! I am getting nervous. Will Mr Raizada say something now?”

Her papa shook his head, his forehead scrunched in a frown.

“Rajiv has hinted at nothing. Even Shyam has not come up in our talks. I don’t know what to expect, Garima.”

“It would have been a milestone for us” she sighed, “ But what can we do except wait”

“Khushi, have some fruits,” Shashi said as he passed her a bowl.

————

Her thoughts were clouded with worry for her parents as she walked into Venus Designs.

She had never seen them so unsure, so worried. And she had never felt as helpless as she had today.

“Morning Leela”, she smiled at the receptionist.

“Khushi, some big client has come here asking for you!” Leela whispered.

“Me?!” She gasped.

“Yes! They are with Madhumati ma’am right now. You better go in. She told me to usher you into her office as soon as you came!”

And so Khushi found herself half-pushed inside her aunt’s magnanimous office.

“Good morning Khushi!”

She couldn’t believe her eyes. Madhumati bua was laughing! Her usually stern eyes were now soft as she looked fondly at the two men.

She looked at the well suited gentlemen, and wondered which of her previous works could have impressed them.

The men stood up.

She found herself stunned as the smirking visage of Arnav Singh Raizada greeted her.

“Meet Arnav and Aman! They are from the Raizada group of companies. Arnav wants his new office to be designed by you.” Her aunt continued jovially.

But her eyes couldn’t leave the devil’s, who had come to extract his pound of flesh!

“ But I-I have never designed professional spaces before.”

“I did mention that to Arnav, but he said he wanted his office to have a bit of domestic touch. Now, now go on. You have to work from the site.”

Rummaging through her mind to look for an excuse , Khushi looked at her aunt trying to signal her to refuse on her behalf.

“I’ll take Khushi with me Mrs. Madhumati. After all, I need the job done by next week.” 

She watched as he put on the best buttering act with her aunt. All sweet smiles and flattery.

“Hi, I’m Aman Mathur, ASR’s right hand man.”

The young man ,she hadn’t paid much attention to , shook her hand, offering her a glimmer of hope.

At least, someone is kind here.

“I think you’ll have a great time working with Arnav. He’s as clear and concise in his demands as it gets.”

“Yeah” she grumbled “Hitler pales in front of him”

Aman raised his eyebrows in amusement .

“ He is demanding, but not a dictator”

“Aman.”Arnav had already reached the door.

“Let’s get going, shall we?”

————

And that’s how Khushi Gupta found herself in a Bentley, heading towards the heart of the city.

“Why are you doing this?”

She couldn’t keep quiet anymore.

“I wanted to spend time with you “

Blushing pink, Khushi marvelled at this man’s shamelessness.

“I forgave you already-“

“That’s not enough for me”

Exasperated, she ignored him for the rest of the ride.

—————

Slouching over the desk Aman had provided her, Khushi scribbled into her notebook.

Designs, light source ideas, decor pieces and vendors all in one place.

With that out of the way,she began sketching. 

Her pencil flew across the page, as she thought of the space where he would work. 

The desk where his coffee machine would stay. The few photographs he took, that he wanted on the wall. The antique telephone he had bought from Paris.

“I have never seen a better portrait of me”

She jumped and twisted her neck, as Arnav grabbed her book from her in a split second.

Grinning, he squinted, pretending to judge her sketch of him.

“I must say Miss Gupta, you have observed me quite closely”

“Shut up! I was just sketching the office “

“And got distracted? Well since I am to be blamed for the distraction , it will only be fair of me to buy you lunch!”

He bent down and grabbed her purse, meeting her petulant face with a wink.

“Shall we?”

—————-

“And there he was, telling me to run for the damn election!”

She giggled as Arnav finished his story. She hadn’t expected to have a fun time with him. So far she had only experienced mad rage and mad lust for the man. And that had to say something!

“You left the states to come back here?”

“I wasn’t really sure about where I wanted to live. And dad really wanted to come back. After mom’s death-” he blinked.

“Are you okay?” Her hand found his.

“Yeah” he held her hand tighter “He took years to move on. The last time we were here was for Di’s wedding”

Khushi swallowed as she realised the topic was now down to his brother-in-law, Shyam. Can she ask him about the deal her parents were after?

“My papa really likes your father. Um…he invited him to brunch…”

“I know Khushi, I was there” he smiled in amusement at her sudden fluster.

“Yes, well they were wondering if Mr.Raizada had made up his mind about the deal.”

Gasping inwardly, she hated herself at that moment for blurting it out. 

She wanted to seal her big mouth forever.

Understanding that anything she said now will only push her further down the hole she had dug, Khushi held her silence.

To her dismay, even Arnav stayed quiet. No jokes, no witty remarks to erase her folly.

“Well, Khushi I can’t say much about that”

She nodded meekly.

“Let’s head back, shall we?”

And that’s how Aman found them in the office that afternoon. One deep in thought, and one mortified.

Tagging: @arshifiesta

—————-

Next chapter>>

@jalebi-weds-bluetooth @barshifan @andli @shiyaravi @muttonthings @hand-picked-star @msbhagirathi @phuljari @sankititaliya @thenainitaldisaster @thedupattaknowswhatsup @chutkiandchotte @laad-governess @laadgovernors @laadgovernorandsankadevi @leila1 @hi-this-is-permabanned @arshispyaar @minpdnim @thedustyshehnai @bigfatreader @arshiradio @simplycurlz @scorpio-smiles @bengudill @exosexosekai @0218fm

[motions1ckness]

“Sweetheart”

This is pt 2 to my last story “Don’t Call me Kid”!! Read that first so this’ll make sense! ♡

Summary: After Kendall’s birthday, your relationship with Roman seemed beyond repair. Until he comes into your office to talk about Caroline’s wedding. (3x08)

Content: Established relationship, f!reader, insecurity, repressing emotions, bit of angst, implied body image issues, mention of age gap, dom/sub relationship dynamics, fluff?, roman hating himself

It’s been almost a week since Ken's birthday, and you've been doing your best to avoid Roman Roy. I mean, you work with him since he’s technically your boss. Luckily, you have your own office, helping you isolate until he apologizes, which he hasn’t yet. He hated talking about his feelings. But, he hated your absence more. Before all this, Roman had invited you to Caroline's second wedding as a plus-one. The thought of having to brush off Roman's actions and show up as his date made your stomach knot.

But the wedding was in two days, meaning the flight was later today. The miscommunication between you two made it unclear if you were still going. While wrapping up an email, you heard a patterned knock at your door. To no surprise, you saw Roman through the glass with his head hanging low. Great. You slightly rolled your eyes as you signaled him to enter. This will be swell.

He shuffled to the couch, indirectly facing you. He seemed anxious. You took notice of his abnormal behavior the past week, being less involved in conferences and more in his head. Like someone turned off his neuro receptors. He started picking at his nail beds, refusing eye contact with you. Again.

You scooted your chair, making him clear in your eye line, “So, what’s up?” acting oblivious. Of course, you knew why he was there. You both did. But perhaps he could dumb it down because 'you’re so young.'

He cleared his throat, scratching the back of his head “ I was just, uh, checking in. Like seeing if you were going to Italy still? You know, with me? Like is that still a thing?” On the last question, he eventually met your gaze. His delicate eyes made you empathetic. You can't shun him out completely? He needs to apologize. He needs to apologize.

Cocking your neck, “I don’t know ‘sweetheart.’ I might try to fix you with my terrible, aching savior complex because ‘I’m just so young and naive.’” Using his own words against him. Making it evident you were not over that night.

Roman shuddered at your response, darting a remorseful expression your way. You didn’t like fighting with him, and the last thing you wanted to do was argue. But you couldn’t let him get away with this. “Y-yea, whatever y/n, I’m a piece of shit. Okay? Fuck, is that what you want me to say?” He stood, throwing his hands up, peering down at you.

You scoffed, “Yea, whatever Roman, you’ve answered your question,” you fixed your attention back to the computer until Roman angled the screen towards the window, forcing you to stare at him.

“No, c’mon y/n. Fuck,” fighting with himself, if he could be vulnerable. “I just, don’t want to fight anymore. I mean c-c’mon. F-fine I’m sorry, there. Y/n, I'm serious. I am sorry. P-Please.”

Reconciliation isn't recurring between you two, especially when he’s begging for your forgiveness. His puppy dog expression helped his apology, “Okay. Thank you for apologizing. I just, I think I need some space. Maybe I'll fly separately,” you attempted to put on a sincere smile. Trying to ease the blow, hoping this doesn’t cause his insecurity to run rampant. You weren’t rejecting the invite, but you worried how Roman would react.

His face dropped a bit, not completely satisfied with your response, “Okay, I, uh, I guess I’ll see you there then.” He thumped on the top of the door frame as he left your office. Shit. Is he disappointed?

—

You flew in with the rest of the staff. Gerri kept you company, talking strategy about GoJo. Your flight arrived first, beating Roman to the shared room in the Villa. It was beautiful. You threw yourself onto the massive mattress, allowing your brain to rest for the first time since the party. You could’ve fallen asleep; until you heard a gentle knock at the door, followed by an entrance.

“I can see you had a lovely flight,” you turned your head to see Roman shutting the door behind him. A faint smile appeared on your face. “C’mon, we need to walk down for welcome drinks and see this, Peter Onion motherfucker,” having a slight smile, he stepped to the edge of the bed, holding his hand out for you to latch onto.

You pull yourself up while fixing your hair. You two were close, still holding hands, his other resting on your hip. He scanned your body, “You look fucking hot y/n, but maybe less ‘I want to fuck my boss’ and more ‘I'm meeting my boss's mom.’” You smirked at his comment, pulling away to get your bags left outside the door.

The two of you faced away from each other and started to change, “You know, I like spending time with you Rome,” turning your head to meet his gaze. You didn’t want to say love. Worried he’d freak out at the phrase.

He adjusted his shirt, smiling to himself, “Yea, I like spending time with you too.”

[multifandomfix]

Gregory House Fluff Alphabet

A = Aroma (What do they smell like?)

House doesn’t care much about his personal scent, but he generally smells clean with a simple shampoo, and a lingering scent of whiskey at times.

B = Babe (What would they use as pet names? Do they use them a lot?)

House rarely uses pet names, unless in a sarcastic manner, or if it’s a nickname he’s given you that just sort of stuck, he may start to use that affectionately.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

House is not known for being particularly affectionate or cuddly. He usually prefers his personal space and is not one to initiate cuddling, though he doesn’t altogether hate it all time either.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? What would they think about living together?)

It would take a bit of time and some serious commitment on his end to want to settle down. He doesn’t mind you living at his place on a semi permanent basis though.

E = Emotion (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He’s not the most affectionate of men. He’ll show his care and concern in small, private ways, but outwardly he’ll be his usual snarky, uncaring self.

F = Flirt (How do they flirt? Are they smooth or awkward?)

House is known for his sarcastic and witty banter, which can sometimes come across as flirtatious. His flirting style is more unconventional and often mixed with humor.

G = Gifts (Are they a gift giver? What kind of gifts do they give?)

House is not particularly known for being a gift giver. When he does give gifts though, they’re surprisingly thoughtful and often because he knows he’s been an ass and it’s a good way to make it up to you.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Hugs aren’t really his thing. He might grumble a bit if you’re a hugger, but if he’s seriously into you, he’ll let it happen, even kind of hugging back.

I = I Love You (How fast do they say the L-word?)

House takes a long time to say "I love you" and may struggle with expressing such deep emotions. He prefers to show his love through his actions and loyalty instead.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

House can get jealous, but he often hides it behind sarcasm. He may become more protective or possessive when he feels jealous.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you?)

House's kisses can be passionate and intense. He tends to just focus on your lips but he does like to kiss your neck if he knows it’ll make you moan.

L = Little ones (How are they around children? Would they want some of their own?)

He’s not always great with children, and thinks he’d make a terrible father, but if he were serious about you, and you wanted to start a family, he’d do his best, and he’d turn out to be pretty good at it.

M = Meet (How did they meet you?)

He met you at work, obviously. You laughed when he pulled a prank on Wilson and he decided to chat you up.

N = Nurture (Are they good at taking care of you if you’re hurt/sick?)

House is skilled at diagnosing and treating medical conditions, but he struggles with providing emotional support when you’re hurt or sick.

O = Out (What’s a typical date night with them like?)

House's idea of a typical date night would likely involve an unconventional activity or event. He prefers dates with some intellectual stimulation rather than the traditional romantic outings.

P = Propose (When do you/they propose? How does the proposal go?)

His proposal is very non traditional. He might just throw it into conversation like any other casual topic and catch you off guard. You’d have to question if he’s serious and when he was, you’d be quick to say yes.

Q = Quirk (What small habit/feature/quirk do they have that you find especially endearing?)

He always has to be doing something with his hands. Whether it’s throwing around a ball in his office, writing on his whiteboard or just fiddling with his cane. You just find it cute and like to watch him do it.

R = Routine (What does a typical day together look like? Routines, schedules, habits?)

With House, chaos is routine. He gets bored easily if things are the same day in and day out. As long as you keep up with whatever he’s got going on, then you’re good.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you?)

He’s very protective. He has to give the third degree to anyone who wants to hang out with you.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, etc?)

House may not put a lot of effort into traditional romantic gestures or special occasions, but he would likely make an effort to plan unique and fun dates or experiences.

U = Unique (What’s something they’d only do for you?)

He’d make more of an effort to understand and respond to your emotions then he does with anyone else. He makes a conscious effort not to dismiss anything you say to him, which isn’t always easy.

V = Vulnerable (How long does it take them to feel comfortable being vulnerable around you?)

It takes House a considerable amount of time and trust to feel comfortable being vulnerable around someone. He tends to keep his emotions guarded and may only open up when he’s sure about how you feel about him.

W = Wardrobe (What would they wear to impress you?)

House doesn't dress to impress others, including you, but for a special occasion, he’ll tidy himself up a bit while not sacrificing his own comfort.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He composes music for you on his piano. It’s no Mozart, but he knows it’s a gesture you’ll appreciate and find deeply touching.

Y = You (What are some things they would like in a partner?)

In a partner, House would appreciate someone who can engage him intellectually, challenge his ideas, and match his quick wit. He values independence and someone who can respect his need for personal space.

Z = Zzz (What are their sleep habits?)

House's sleep habits are often irregular and disrupted due to his demanding work schedule and chronic pain. He may stay up late thinking about a case or find himself waking up at odd hours. Overall, he doesn't prioritize sleep and may function on limited rest.

For @terezausername

Gregory House: @jkthighs, @xxfrankenheartxx, @realitydisociation, @ohladymoon, @gothtrash6969, @404-its-alr, @hotshot624