#AtMidWinter-DarcyDarling

[darcydarlingdabbles]

At Mid Winter ~ Part 2

RadioApple❄️Human Au/Age Gap✨Top!Dom!Alastor

✨Divorced Dad!Lucifer❄️Explicit~

❄️✨☕✨❄️

☕ On Ao3✨Become my Arc Reader✨On Tumblr ☕

On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: sweet stolen glances, dark chocolate mouse, and a little bit of coffee~

Lucifer stepped out of his two door coup onto the snow-dusted gravel drive, his polished black dress shoes crunching on the icy crystals.

He drew in a deep breath of the crisp mountain air, gazing up at the grand hunting lodge nestled among towering snow-capped pines.

The stately log structure exuded cozy luxury, glowing windows beckoning him inside with promises of warmth and merriment.

He glanced over as Alastor emerged from the backseat of Charlie’s SUV, adjusting a crimson scarf around his neck.

A smile played at Lucifer's lips watching his dashing partner, but he quickly looked away, trying to maintain a friendly distance.

Charlie and Vaggie spilled out next, their cheeks rosy from the cold and eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Wow, this place is amazing! Like something out of a fairytale!" His ever excited daughter exclaimed, bouncing on her heels.

"Perfect for a bunch of rich people to part with their money." Vaggie muttered, taking Charlie's gloved hand.

Alastor chuckled, swinging shut the SUV door. "Indeed! The university has outdone itself securing such a splendid venue. I anticipate a spectacular soirée!"

Lucifer's heart fluttered at the jaunty tone of Alastor's voice, but he kept his eyes trained forward as they headed for the lodge's grand front doors.

Animated chatter and laughter echoed around him as other guests arrived. He smiled and waved to a few familiar faces, hoping his nerves didn't show.

Large social events always made him feel on edge these days, especially without Alastor by his side as an anchor. But they had agreed—well, Lucifer had insisted—that discretion was key to avoid drawing undue attention or gossip.

As an elegantly appointed doorman ushered them into the lodge's lavish front hall, a wave of delicious warmth washed over Lucifer.

He loosened his scarf, drinking in the classic alpine decor—a massive stone fireplace crackling with a welcoming blaze, overstuffed leather couches and armchairs piled with plush throws, dark exposed beams strung with evergreen garlands and twinkling lights.

All around, a flurry of activity buzzed as event staff hurried about hanging glittering ornaments, setting up the bar, and arranging poinsettia centerpieces on linen-draped tables.

Lucifer turned to Alastor, fighting the urge to take his hand. Their eyes met and the blonde felt a warm, unspoken affection passed between them.

Between Alastor and the charm of this place, Lucifer felt his anxieties melting away.

Perhaps tonight wouldn't be so nerve-wracking after all. Not with his beloved daughter and Alastor by his side, even if from a subtle distance. He allowed himself a small, secret smile.

As Alastor, Vaggie, and Charlie were whisked away by the event coordinator, their luggage was promptly loaded onto a gleaming brass luggage cart.

"Your bags will be taken to your room, courtesy of the university's performing arts college," the coordinator informed them with a bright smile. "It's one of our finest double rooms!"

Vaggie raised an eyebrow. "We're all sharing a room?"

"Of course! It's quite spacious, I assure you. Perfect for bonding with your fellow students!" the coordinator chirped before turning to Lucifer. "Dr. Morningstar, your bags will be delivered to one of the suites on the top floor. Only the best for our esteemed board members."

“Oh, uh, thanks.” Lucifer nodded graciously, but his thoughts were preoccupied with Alastor.

He wished they could steal a moment alone together before the festivities began.

But, appearances had to be maintained.

As if reading his mind, Alastor flashed him a discreet, reassuring smile before clapping his hands together. "Well then, let's get to work. We’ll make tomorrow night a spectacle to remember."

“That’s the spirit, Mr. LeBlanc.” The event coordinator said, with a chipper smile and a clipboard.

Alastor linked arms with Charlie and Vaggie, guiding them towards the towering Christmas tree that dominated the far end of the great room.

They immediately fell into an easy rhythm, Alastor taking charge of hanging the higher ornaments while the girls focused on the lower branches.

Tinsel flew, laughter rang out, and Lucifer couldn't help but admire how naturally Alastor commanded a room.

Lucifer himself lingered near the fireplace, unsure of where he fit into the bustling scene.

He fiddled with the buttons of his tailored red jacket, one Alastor had picked out for him.

Alastor had been doing that quite a bit lately—taking charge of Lucifer's outfits, encouraging him to branch out from his standard fluffy, chunky knit sweaters.

Lucifer found he rather enjoyed surrendering that small bit of control. Especially when Alastor seemed to relish in taking it.

"Lucifer! Is that you?"

A familiar voice snapped the blonde out of his reverie.

He turned to see his old colleagues, Emily and Sera, approaching, their faces bright with surprise and delight. Well, the shorter of the two looked bright. Sera was always toweringly tall and stern.

Emily reached him first, clasping his hands warmly.

"My goodness, you look wonderful!" she exclaimed, her eyes twinkling. "That jacket is stunning on you. Red is definitely your color."

Lucifer ducked his head, feeling a pleased flush creep up his neck. "Thank you, Emily. That's very kind of you to say. It’s good to see you again, too."

He couldn't help but privately credit Alastor for his elevated appearance. His companion had an impeccable eye and took such joy in dressing him.

Lucifer found himself looking forward to their private fashion sessions, Alastor sliding his clothes on with teasing, reverent fingers.

Only Alastor could make the simple act of getting dressed feel like the sultriest of foreplay.

Sera peered at him appraisingly, a smile playing at her lips. "Emily's right, Lucifer. You look…happier. Relaxed, even."

Lucifer chuckled softly, letting his gaze drift back to Alastor, who was now dramatically draping garlands around Charlie's and Vaggie's shoulders.

An involuntary warmth spread through his chest. Perhaps his inner contentment was becoming more and more visible on the outside as well.

"I suppose I am happy," he murmured, almost to himself.

Lucifer chastised himself, as the brunette often had, about his lack of poker face before turning back to his colleagues, determined to be present in the conversation.

The night was young, and there would be plenty of time for covert glances and secret smiles.

For now, he would simply bask in the joy of being surrounded by the people he cared for most, even if he couldn't hold his beloved openly.

The strength of their bond transcended public displays—it lived in every inside joke, every brushed hand, every meaningful look.

And that, Lucifer decided, was more than enough.

❄️✨☕✨❄️

As Lucifer conversed with Sera and Emily—administrators, he reminded himself, the professors had been more like his friends—his gaze kept straying to Alastor, who was now untangling a string of lights with deft fingers.

The younger man moved with an easy grace, his smile never faltering as he joked with Charlie and Vaggie and fellow students who had been volunteered to impress donors.

He couldn't help but admire the way Alastor commanded attention without even trying, his natural charisma drawing people in like moths to a flame.

But beneath the admiration, a flicker of insecurity churned in Lucifer's gut. Alastor was so effortlessly charming, so comfortable in his own skin. Lucifer sometimes wondered what Alastor saw in him, with all his anxieties and uncertainties.

As if sensing his gaze, Alastor glanced up, his eyes meeting Lucifer's across the room. Giving him another of those stolen, secret smiles. Softer than his overtly charming public face.

Lucifer felt that melting feeling all over again.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, the blonde noticed a young man watching Alastor as intently as he was.

The student was tall and lean, with electric blue eyes and a calculating expression. He looked as slick as the amount of gel in his oily black hair.

Lucifer frowned slightly, a prickle of unease running down his spine.

But before he could dwell on it, Ozzie, a well-loved psychology professor, clapped him on the shoulder, grinning broadly.

The blonde gave a guilty start.

"Lucifer, my man! It's been too long. You really should consider coming back to teach, you know. The humanities college isn't the same without you."

Bee, from sociology, nodded in agreement, her eyes twinkling. "The students adored you, Lucifer. And your research was always so fascinating. We could use your history expertise around here."

Lucifer smiled, pushing thoughts of the mysterious student to the back of his mind.

"I do miss it sometimes," he admitted. "But I'm enjoying this new chapter of my life. Focusing on my writing, spending more time with Charlie…"

Ozzie’s eyes lit up with mischief. "Oh yes, we've heard all about this new chapter of yours, Lucifer. Particularly the... romantic subplot."

Bee chuckled, nudging Lucifer playfully. "Come on, Dr. ‘Star. Spill the beans. Who's the lucky lady? Or gentleman? We're not ones to judge."

Lucifer felt his cheeks grow hot. He hadn't prepared for this, hadn't expected the rumors to spread so quickly.

His eyes darted around the room, desperately avoiding Alastor's direction.

"I…well, that is to say…" he stammered, tugging at his collar.

The room suddenly felt far too warm, the crackling fireplace no longer cozy but stifling.

Bee laid a gentle hand on his arm, her expression softening.

"We didn't mean to embarrass you. We're just thrilled to see you happy again. You were always so dedicated to your work. It's wonderful to know you've found someone special."

Ozzie nodded earnestly. "Absolutely. After everything you've been through, you deserve some joy in your life. We're not fishing for gossip, truly. We just want to celebrate."

Their sincerity washed over Lucifer like a soothing balm, easing some of the tension from his shoulders. He took a deep breath, centering himself.

"Thank you," he said softly, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I appreciate it. And yes, I am…I am happy. Happier than I've been in a long time, actually."

As he spoke, Lucifer's gaze unconsciously drifted towards Alastor, who was now regaling a group of students with an animated story, his hands gesturing grandly.

The sight made Lucifer's heart swell with affection.

Quickly, he snapped his attention back to Bee and Ozzie, hoping they hadn't noticed his wandering eyes. But judging by the knowing looks they exchanged, he feared he might not have been as subtle as he'd hoped.

"Well, whoever they are," Bee said warmly, "they're clearly good for you."

Ozzie agreed, clapping him on the back. "It suits you, my friend."

Lucifer ducked his head, both touched and flustered by their observations.

"You're too kind," he murmured, fiddling with the cuffs of his jacket.

As he spoke, the scent of cinnamon and pine wafted through the air, mingling with the rich aroma of mulled wine.

Laughter echoed around them, punctuated by the soft tinkling of ornaments.

Across the room, Alastor's mirth rang out, bright and clear.

Vaggie was tangled in a string of lights, her expression a mix of annoyance and reluctant amusement as Charlie tried to free her. Alastor, meanwhile, was doubled over in levity, his eyes sparkling with sabotage.

"My dear, you look positively radiant!" he declared, grinning at Vaggie's predicament. "I dare say you've found your calling as a human Christmas tree."

Vaggie scowled. "Har har. Very funny. Now are you going to help me out of this mess or not?"

Alastor tapped his chin thoughtfully, his smile turning sly. "I don't know. I think it rather suits you."

Charlie, ever the peacemaker, stepped in before Vaggie could retort. "Here, let me help," she offered, carefully unwinding the lights. "We've got a lot more decorating to do, and we need all hands on deck!"

As Lucifer watched, he couldn't help but marvel at the easy camaraderie between the three of them.

Despite the lingering tension between Alastor and Vaggie, they worked together seamlessly, their banter filled with a grudging fondness.

It was a testament to their love for Charlie, Lucifer realized.

They were both willing to set aside their differences for her sake, to find common ground in their shared affection for the bright, kind-hearted young woman who had brought them all together.

As the trio turned their attention back to the decorations, chatting and laughing as they worked, Lucifer felt a sense of deep contentment settle over him.

This was what the holidays were all about, he thought—coming together with the people you loved, finding joy in the simple pleasures of tradition and togetherness.

Let the world keep turning outside these walls. Here, in this moment, they had everything they needed.

❄️✨☕✨❄️

Vox sauntered up to Alastor, a sly grin playing on his lips. "Well, well, if it isn't the star of the show," he purred, his eyes raking over Alastor's form appreciatively. "I must say, Alastor, you're looking dashing today."

Alastor's smile remained firmly in place, but there was a coolness to his gaze as he replied, "Why, thank you, Vox. You're too kind."

He kept his tone light, almost playful.

Undeterred, Vox leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know, I've been watching you work all day. The way you handle those decorations…you’re pretty skillful, magical, even."

Alastor chuckled, a sound that was equal parts amusement and warning. "Ah, well, luckily one of us has a modicum of awareness, " He stepped back smoothly, maintaining a polite but firm boundary between them. “lest the magic spell be broken.”

Vox opened his mouth, despite the befuddled expression on his face—

Just then, Lucifer entered the room, his eyes immediately drawn to the interaction unfolding before him.

A rush of jealousy surged through his veins, hot and bitter, as he watched Vox's blatant flirtation.

He tried to school his features into a neutral expression, but the tightness around his mouth and the shadow in his eyes betrayed his inner turmoil.

What the hell was that kid doing? Fawning all over Alastor like that? Lucifer fumed silently. He took a deep breath, pushing down the insecurities that threatened to rise up and choke him.

The blonde needed to calm down—Alastor was not going to be swayed by some cheap flattery and cheesy pick-up lines.

Forcing a smile onto his face, Lucifer approached the group, his voice carefully casual as he said, "There you are! I've been looking all over for you three. I thought we could all grab a late dinner at the lodge restaurant, if you're up for it?"

He studiously avoided looking at Vox, focusing instead on Alastor, Vaggie, and Charlie. But even as they agreed and began to gather their things, Lucifer couldn't help but feel a lingering sense of unease.

❄️✨☕✨❄️

The cozy ambiance of the lodge restaurant enveloped them as they stepped inside, the aroma of hearty winter dishes mingling with the crackle of the fireplace. Soft laughter and the clink of cutlery against plates filled the air.

As they settled into their seats, Lucifer found himself seated across from Alastor in the booth, with Charlie and Vaggie to his left.

He tried to focus on the menu, but his gaze kept drifting back to Alastor, drinking in the sight of him in the flickering candlelight.

"So, Charlie," Alastor said, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled over the table. "Tell us more about your upcoming performance. I'm sure it's going to be absolutely spectacular."

Charlie beamed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Oh, I’m so excited! We've been working so hard on the choreography and the music. I can't wait for everyone to see it!"

As Charlie launched into a detailed description of her upcoming song and dance at the gala, Lucifer found himself only half-listening. His mind was still churning with thoughts of Vox and the way he had looked at Alastor, like he was a prize to be won.

"And of course, Alastor will be performing as well," Charlie chimed in, her words jolting Lucifer out of his reverie.

"What?" Lucifer blurted out, his eyes snapping to Alastor's face. "You're performing too?"

Alastor sighed, though he didn’t seem remotely bashfull. "Ah, yes. It was meant to be a surprise, actually. I didn't want to steal the spotlight from Charlie."

Charlie's eyes widened, her mouth forming a perfect 'O' of surprise. "Alastor! You didn't have to do that for me," she exclaimed, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. "You know I would have loved to share the stage with you!"

Lucifer felt a wave of emotion wash over him, a mix of pride and affection for Alastor's thoughtfulness.

"That's incredibly kind of you, Alastor," he said softly, his eyes meeting the other man's across the table. "But Charlie's right. You shouldn't have to hide your talents."

Vaggie, however, narrowed her eyes, her gaze flicking between Alastor and Lucifer.

"That's…unusually considerate of you, Alastor," she said, her tone laced with skepticism. "Since when do you pass up an opportunity to show off?"

Alastor's smile tightened almost imperceptibly, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes. He leaned back in his seat, fingers drumming lightly on the table.

"My dear Vaggie, always so quick to assume the worst," he said, his voice light but with an undercurrent of tension. "Is it so hard to believe I might simply want to give my best friend her moment to shine?"

“Yes.” Vaggie said simply, to Charlie’s admonishment.

Lucifer watched the exchange with growing curiosity, sensing there was more to Alastor's decision than he was letting on.

He caught Alastor's eye, raising an eyebrow in silent question.

Alastor held his gaze for a moment, then sighed.

"If you must know," he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper, audible only to those at their table, "I was attempting to be…respectful. Lucifer has been incredibly proud and excited for his daughter, who also happens to be my best friend, and I…didn't want to intrude on their moment."

The words hung in the air, heavy with implication.

Lucifer felt his heart skip a beat, touched by Alastor's consideration. He hadn't even thought about how Alastor's involvement might affect his ability to focus on Charlie's performance.

For all Alastor warned Lucifer that he was no good with relationships…that sure was one hell of a forethought.

Charlie's eyes widened in understanding, a soft "Oh" escaping her lips. She looked between Alastor and her father, a gentle smile spreading across her face. "Al, that's…that's really thoughtful of you."

Vaggie's expression softened slightly, though a hint of suspicion still lingered in her eyes. She opened her mouth as if to say something, then closed it again, settling for a noncommittal hum.

Lucifer found himself at a loss for words, overwhelmed by the depth of Alastor's consideration. He wanted nothing more than to reach across the table and take the younger man’s hand. Show his partner a little of how grateful he was for the gesture.

But they were out in public. Students, staff, and stakeholders in the university all chatting and eating around them.

Later, Lucifer promised himself.

“So, if we’d like to get back to our discussion of Charlie’s rigorous rehearsal schedule.” Alastor said, clearing his throat, picking up his fork with a finality to his tone.

If Lucifer didn’t know better, he might just think his partner was blushing in the candlelight.

As the conversation flowed around him, Lucifer let himself relax, basking in the warmth and laughter of his loved ones.

As the meal drew to a close, a sense of contentment settled over the group. Lucifer leaned back in the booth, savoring the warmth of the restaurant and the easy camaraderie between his companions.

Charlie and Vaggie were the first to excuse themselves, citing a need to rest before the big day tomorrow.

"Oh, Al," Charlie said, pausing as she stood. "Did you... um, did you move your bags already?" Her attempt at subtlety was endearing, if not entirely effective.

Alastor's smile never wavered. "It's all taken care of, my dear. No need to worry."

Charlie beamed, her eyes sparkling with delight. "Great! Well, goodnight, you two. Don't stay up too late!"

With a wave, she and Vaggie disappeared, leaving Lucifer and Alastor alone at the table.

“And then there were two,'“ Lucifer chuckle, his gaze drifting to the dessert menu.

The selections were tempting, an array of decadent treats designed to satisfy any sweet tooth. But as he reached for the menu, he hesitated, his mind flashing back to the countless texts from Alastor, gentle reminders to take care of himself, to prioritize his health and well-being.

His partner's concern, his desire to see Lucifer thrive, it was a constant source of comfort and support

Lucifer's internal debate was interrupted by the waiter's arrival, ready to take their dessert order.

He glanced at Alastor, a silent question in his eyes, wondering what the brunette would choose.

Alastor's hand gently brushed against Lucifer's as he reached for the dessert menu.

"Allow me, darling," he said with a warm smile, his eyes scanning the options. "Ah, perfect. We'll have the dark chocolate mousse, please. And an espresso for me."

Lucifer felt a blush creep into his cheeks. He loved how Alastor always seemed to know exactly when to take the reigns from him.

As the waiter nodded and slipped away, Alastor turned to Lucifer, his gaze soft and sincere.

“I thought, dessert might be off the table,” Lucifer shrugged, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Given all the indulgences this weekend.”

Alastor glanced around, and then, deftly, moved towards the center of the circular booth. Far enough to maintain the facade, but close enough that Lucifer could feel a warm hand on his thigh.

"You know, I want you to be healthy, but not at the expense of enjoying life's little pleasures.” The younger ducked his head and lowered his voice, catching Lucifer’s ear. “Besides, I happen to adore the way your body feels…all soft and inviting."

Lucifer's blush deepened, his heart fluttering at Alastor's words. It was moments like these that reminded him just how lucky he was.

"Thank you," he murmured, his hand finding Alastor's beneath the table. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

“Suffer, probably,” the brunette chuckled.

But just as they were leaning in, lost in the moment, a familiar figure approached their table.

Vox, the brash student who had been watching Alastor earlier, stood before them, an ambitious glint in his eye.

"Alastor, there you are," he drawled, his gaze flicking between the two men. "Almost thought you’d gotten away from me. Mind if I join you?"

The words were on the tip of his tongue—he very much minded.

But, Alastor squeezed his hand warningly under the table, before subtly letting go.

Lucifer didn’t like the shift in the atmosphere, the easy comfort of their private moment evaporating in the face of the intrusion.

Beside him, Alastor sat up straighter, his smile never wavering even as a hint of steel crept into his eyes. "Vox," he greeted, his voice smooth and controlled. "What a surprise. To what do we owe the pleasure?"

As the three men stared each other down, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife, Lucifer couldn't shake the feeling that their evening was about to take a very unexpected turn.

Without waiting for an invitation, Vox slid into the booth beside Alastor, his arm draping casually over the back of the seat.

Lucifer felt a surge of possessiveness, his jaw clenching as he watched Vox's fingers brush against Alastor's shoulder.

"I've been meaning to ask you something, Alastor," Vox began, his voice low and conspiratorial. "A little birdie told me you're performing at the gala tomorrow night. Is that true?"

Alastor's smile remained fixed, but Lucifer could see the barely perceptible tension in his shoulders. "Indeed, I am," he replied, his tone light and airy. "It's a tradition I'm quite fond of, you see."

Vox leaned closer, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of admiration and challenge. "Well, I was wondering if you might be interested in a little... collaboration. You and me, on stage together. What do you say?"

Lucifer's heart raced, a sickening feeling twisting in his gut. He glanced at Alastor, trying to gauge his reaction, but the other man's expression remained unreadable.

"An intriguing proposition," Alastor said, his voice carefully neutral. "But I'm afraid I'll have to decline. You see, I've already prepared a solo piece, and any quality performance requires ample time to prepare."

Vox's smile faltered for a moment, a flash of irritation crossing his features. But he quickly recovered, his grin turning sly. "Ah, well, that's a shame. I feel like we could make some beautiful music together."

Lucifer blanched at the blatant innuendo, nearly knocking over the dark chocolate mousse that had appeared unnoticed at their table. The delicate glass wobbled precariously, threatening to spill its velvety contents across the crisp white tablecloth.

Lucifer's hand shot out to steady it, his fingers trembling slightly as they gripped the cool surface.

Alastor's laughter rang out, clear and melodious, cutting through the tension like a knife.

It was impossible to tell if he was laughing at Vox's audacious flirtation or if he found some genuine amusement in the situation.

“Oh, I’m certain you would think that.”

Lucifer watched, his heart pounding, as Alastor reached for his espresso. The small, white porcelain cup looked almost comically delicate in his long, elegant fingers.

Steam rose from the dark liquid in wispy tendrils, curling around Alastor's face.

With deliberate slowness, Alastor raised the cup to his lips. He took a sip, his eyes closing briefly as he savored the rich, bitter flavor.

When Alastor's eyes opened again, they were gleaming with an unreadable expression.

He set the cup down with a soft clink, the sound seeming to echo in the sudden hush that had fallen over their table.

Lucifer found himself holding his breath, every muscle in his body tense as he waited for Alastor's response.

A/N: You know what happens to Vox in my fics by now XD

And no, that was not a typo. Lucifer has a Doctorate in Ancient History in this.

Well, yes, it was an originally a typo. But then I went with it.

I then made Ozzie a professor of a Psychology, because of its link to sexuality and a weird human sexuality teacher I had.

And Bee is a sociology teacher because food is a driving force of culture and societal norms.

☕ On Ao3✨Become my Arc Reader✨On Tumblr ☕

[darcydarlingdabbles]

At Mid Winter ~ Part 11

RadioApple❄️Human Au/Age Gap✨Top!Dom!Alastor

✨Divorced Dad!Lucifer❄️Explicit~

On the eleventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: Eleven ribbons binding.

❄️✨☕✨❄️

☕ On Ao3✨Become my Arc Reader✨On Tumblr ☕

The fireplace crackled, casting a warm glow across Lucifer's private suite.

Alastor could feel the heat of Lucifer's body, mere inches from his own, their breaths intermingling in the intimate space between them. Lucifer's golden hair glowed in the firelight, his tired eyes finally seeming to calm.

The blanket draped over them trapped their shared body heat, creating a cocoon of comfort.

"You seem more relaxed," Alastor murmured, his lips brushing Lucifer's ear.

Lucifer hummed contentedly, shifting to press even closer.

The temperature rose steadily, beads of sweat forming on their brows as Lucifer's fingers traced idle patterns on his arm.

"It's getting rather warm, isn't it?" Lucifer murmured.

Alastor nodded, shrugging off his jacket.

The older man followed suit, their shirts soon joining the discarded garments.

Skin brushed against skin, igniting sparks of electricity between them.

"Feeling better than just 'a little,' I'd bet," Alastor teased, trailing a finger down Lucifer's chest.

Lucifer's cheeks flushed pink. "You…you make me feel better," he admitted softly. "But we don't have to—"

"Have I ever offered you anything that I didn’t want to do?" Alastor purred. Just to see Lucifer blush.

“No.”

“Exactly.”

"Oh, wait, I have something for you," the blonde said, suddenly bright as he wriggled free and reached for his suit coat.

Alastor's body tensed immediately, his mind racing ahead of what could be hidden in an inner pocket.

The little velvet box. It couldn't be. He'd sworn it was still tucked away in Lucifer's suitcase. They weren't ready for that step, were they?

"Oh?" Alastor managed, trying to keep his voice steady. "A surprise, darling?"

Lucifer nodded, a devilish little smile playing at his lips. "I hope you'll like it."

Alastor's heart pounded. He wasn't prepared for this. They'd barely begun exploring their relationship.

A proposal now would be premature, overwhelming.

But saying no…could ruin everything.

"Though you know how I feel about surprises." the brunette kept his tone carefully neutral. He adjusted his glasses, a nervous habit he thought he'd long overcome.

"I do. But I couldn't resist this one." Lucifer chuckled softly. “C’mon sweetheart, stand up.”

The brunette nearly stumbled as he got to his feet, hoping he could blame it on the tangle of clothing and blankets.

Alastor's gaze flickered to Lucifer's hidden hand, trying to gauge the size of whatever he was concealing.

Too large for a ring box, perhaps?

Hopefully.

"Well," Alastor said, forcing a playful smirk even as his arms folded over his dark undershirt, "don't keep me in suspense, darling. What have you got there?"

Lucifer's eyes danced with mirth as he revealed a small sprig of real mistletoe from behind his back. "Ta-da!" he announced with a playful flourish.

A wave of relief washed over Alastor, his tense muscles relaxing.

Not a proposal, after all.

He let out a barely audible sigh, disguising it as a chuckle.

"Mistletoe? How delightfully festive of you, darling."

Lucifer beamed, clearly pleased with himself.

He attempted to raise the sprig above their heads but fell short, his 5'6" frame no match for Alastor's towering height.

Alastor couldn't resist the opportunity to tease. "My, my, having some trouble there? Perhaps we should fetch you a stepladder?"

A blush crept across Lucifer's cheeks, his gold-flecked eyes narrowing in mock indignation. "I'll have you know I can reach just fine, thank you very much."

"Of course you can, love," Alastor purred, his voice dripping with affectionate sarcasm. He plucked the mistletoe from Lucifer's grasp. "But why don’t you allow me?"

Holding the sprig high above their heads, Alastor gazed down at Lucifer.

The firelight cast a warm glow on his partner's face, softening the worry lines that had become all too familiar lately. Alastor's heart swelled with tenderness.

"Well?" Lucifer murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Aren't you going to kiss me?"

Alastor's lips curved into a genuine smile. "How could I refuse such a tempting offer?"

He leaned down, closing the distance between them.

Their lips met in a kiss that started soft and sweet but quickly deepened.

Alastor savored the warmth of Lucifer's body pressed against his, the faint taste of peppermint on his breath.

For a moment, all his carefully maintained control slipped away, replaced by a surge of pure affection. Adoration.

And the wild, fleeting thought…that maybe a proposal wasn’t the idea in the world.

As they parted, Lucifer's eyes fluttered open.

"Alastor…you really don’t like surprises, do you?."

Alastor's fingers twitched.

"I simply prefer…order, my dear. The unexpected can be…unsettling."

"But life is full of surprises," Lucifer countered, his brow furrowing. "Surely you can't plan for everything?"

A dry chuckle escaped Alastor's lips.

"Oh, but I can certainly try. Control is… comforting. It allows one to navigate the world with precision and purpose."

Lucifer's eyes softened with understanding. "And you need that comfort, don't you? That sense of control?"

Alastor paused, weighing his words carefully.

"Yes. But speaking of surprises…" His trademark smirk returned, eyes glinting with mischief. "I had one for you tonight, darling."

Alastor reached into his bag, his long fingers emerging with a length of crimson satin ribbon. It unfurled gracefully, catching the warm light of the suite.

Lucifer's eyes widened, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "I knew about the blindfold, but…"

His words trailed off as Alastor produced more ribbons, longer and wider, from the depths of his bag

"Ah, a scarf trick," Lucifer chuckled, belying the tinge of anticipation. "Though I suspect your plans are far more…intricate."

Alastor's smile widened, predatory and fond all at once. "Oh, you have no idea, my dear," he purred, stepping closer.

With a fluid motion, he draped the ribbon around Lucifer's bare shoulders, using it to pull him flush against the younger’s lithe body.

Lucifer's hands instinctively came to rest on Alastor's hips, his breath quickening.

"And what exactly do you have in mind?"

Alastor leaned in, his lips brushing against Lucifer's ear. "You, darling," he whispered, his voice rich with promise, "are my present tonight. All tide up in ribbons, just for me."

A shiver ran down Lucifer's spine, equal parts excitement coursing through him.

He swallowed hard, acutely aware of Alastor's commanding presence and his own growing desire to yield to it.

He had a feeling he wouldn’t be anything near bratty tonight.

The satin ribbon slithered across Lucifer's skin, tracing a teasing path down his chest as Alastor slowly unbuttoned his slacks. The crackling fire cast a warm glow on their bodies.

"Do you remember, Lucifer?" Alastor murmured, his fingers deftly working the button and zip. "That night in autumn, the flames dancing just like this?"

"How could I forget?" Lucifer's breath hitched. "You made me feel alive again."

Alastor's eyes sparkled behind his glasses. "And tonight, I intend to do so much more."

Alastor pushed the pants from Lucifer's hips, letting them pool at his feet. The ribbon glided over Lucifer's exposed skin, eliciting a soft gasp.

"Sensitive, aren't we?" Alastor chuckled, beginning to weave the ribbon around Lucifer's torso in an intricate pattern. He drew it teasingly up along his thigh, just skirting the blonde’s crotch.

“Right now,” Lucifer shivered, both from the cool silk against his warm skin and the intensity of Alastor's gaze. “…very.”

Alastor's movements were deliberate, each pass of the ribbon a caress that left Lucifer fluttering.

"Turn around," he commanded softly.

Lucifer complied, his heart racing as Alastor gently guided his arms behind his back. The ribbon wound up his arms and criss-crossed his chest—and though he couldn’t see behind his back, he could feel the lattice weave down his arms. Until Alastor tied a bow at his wrists.

"How does that feel?" Alastor asked, his breath warm against Lucifer's neck.

Lucifer tested the bonds, a mix of excitement and trepidation washing over him. Arms behind his back, bound from shoulder to wrists. Completely at Alastor’s mercy.

"Like I’m…subby already.” The older man admitted, a flush creeping up his neck.

"Very good boy. " Alastor supplied, running his hands down Lucifer's arms.

The blonde leaned back into the caress and the praise at once, craving it like the heat of the fire after their dance in the snow. Alastor pressed a tender kiss to Lucifer's shoulder.

“You know well, I take excellent care of my presents.” he promised, his voice low and full of desire.

He gestured towards the mirror, no doubt proud of his work—and Lucifer could see why.

The red satin was woven beautifully up his arms and tied in a bow at his wrist. It was sophisticated but deceptively simple, and looked rather like a corset, in Lucifer’s mind.

"Of course you know how to tie fancy knots." Lucifer chuckled softly, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

Alastor's hands paused, already teasing with his next red ribbon. "What does that mean?" A note of curiosity was in his smooth tone.

Lucifer turned his head slightly, catching a glimpse of Alastor's raised eyebrow.

"Well, it's elegant and meticulous," he shrugged, feeling the satin tug. "Just like you."

A small smile played at the corners of Alastor's lips. "I'll take that as a compliment."

As Alastor's fingers danced across his skin. The fire crackled softly in the background, casting a warm glow over their intertwined forms.

"Now," Alastor said, his voice low and measured, "the next tie requires a bit more…flexibility. Are you ready for that, my dear?"

Lucifer swallowed hard, his heart racing. He thought about how far he'd come since meeting Alastor, how much he'd grown to trust this man.

"Yes," he breathed, surprising himself with the steadiness in his voice. "I'm ready."

Alastor hummed gently, pressing a soft kiss to the nape of Lucifer's neck. "Remember, your comfort is paramount."

As Alastor began to guide him into position on the fur rug, Lucifer closed his eyes, focusing on the trust he felt for this man.

He was pushing his boundaries, yes, but he knew, without a doubt, that he was safe in Alastor's capable hands.

Lucifer's breath hitched as Alastor eased his first leg into the tight frog tie. He watched with fascination as Alastor drew the ribbon in half, pulling the loop around his ankle, pulling it taut until Lucifer’s heel was pressed to his thigh.

The strain in his muscles was immediate, a burning stretch that made him wince.

"Easy now," Alastor murmured, his fingers ghosting over Lucifer's leg. "Color?"

"Yellow…no red, I can’t," Lucifer admitted, his voice tight. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment in himself. "I'm sorry, I thought I could—"

"Shh," Alastor soothed, pressing a gentle kiss to Lucifer's temple as he loosed the red ribbon. "You're doing wonderfully, darling. We just need to practice your stretches more often."

Lucifer nodded, focusing on Alastor's calming presence. He couldn’t help but feel he’d let down his Dom—but those long fingers were tracing soothing patterns on his skin, easing the strain.

"How about we try a different bind," Alastor said softly, running a hand through Lucifer's tousled blond hair. "With your legs together?"

The older man nodded mutely.

Alastor's smile was evident in his voice. "Excellent. Now, let's finish making you into the perfect gift, shall we?"

With deft movements, Alastor bound Lucifer's legs, bent and pressed together in that same corset-like weave, the red satin ribbon a stark contrast against his pale skin.

Lucifer felt utterly helpless, completely at Alastor's mercy—and found, not to his surprise, that he loved it.

"That's it," Alastor praised, his voice rich with admiration. "You're so beautiful like this, Lucifer."

The words washed over Lucifer, warming him from the inside out. He felt himself relaxing incrementally, surrendering to Alastor's care.

Alastor stood back, his hazel eyes darkening as they raked over Lucifer's bound form. The intensity of his gaze made Lucifer's breath catch in his throat.

"Oh, angel," Alastor breathed, his gaze traveling over Lucifer's bound form. "You have no idea how exquisite you look right now."

A whine escaped Lucifer's lips, vulnerability and arousal crashing through him. He felt exposed, yet cherished, under Alastor's extolling stare.

"Wrapped up like a Christmas present before the hearth," Alastor continued, tracing a finger along the ribbon adorning Lucifer's chest, "it's breathtaking."

Lucifer's heart raced, his skin tingling where Alastor touched. "What…what happens now?"

A slow, teasing smile spread across Alastor's face. "Now? Well, I could simply keep you like this for a while. Admire my handiwork."

"Alastor," Lucifer breathed, squirming against his bonds.

Alastor chuckled, the sound making all of his exposed skin tingle—he noted, with some relief, that his cock wasn’t bound. He hoped for a reason.

"So impatient," he teased, his hands moving to Lucifer's hips. "But since you whine so prettily."

With a swift movement, Alastor maneuvered him onto his stomach. Lucifer utterly helpless to stop him as he moved to straddle the bound man's legs. Lucifer gasped at the sudden shift, his mind reeling.

His thoughts were interrupted as Alastor's fingers found their way between his cheek, slickly teasing at his hole, causing Lucifer to arch into the touch.

His bound hands flexed. But he couldn’t do a damn thing.

“Oh…” Alastor purred, his voice lower than Lucifer had ever heard it. “I think I’m going to like this. Very much.”

The plush rug beneath Lucifer's cheek was a sharp contrast to the heat of the fire warming his exposed skin.

Lucifer should have known then, that his lover was about to take his sweet, agonizing time.

❄️✨☕✨❄️

He didn’t know how long it had been as whimpered softly, his face pressed into the soft fibers, hands and legs bound securely behind him. The position left him utterly helpless.

"A-Alastor," Lucifer gasped, his voice muffled against the rug. He tugged futilely at his bonds, desperate to touch, to rut against the rug, to buck back against those fingers. Anything.

Behind him, Alastor's low chuckle sent shivers down Lucifer's spine. "Patience, darling," he purred, his fingers teasing along the cleft of Lucifer's ass. "We have all night."

Lucifer bit his lip, suppressing a moan as Alastor's slick fingers pulled out of him and circled his entrance. The gentle, persistent pressure was maddening.

"You're doing so well," Alastor murmured, slowly working a finger inside. "So beautiful like this, trussed up for me."

The praise sent a flush of heat through Lucifer's body.

He turned his head, catching a glimpse of Alastor's intense gaze. The raw desire he saw there made his breath catch.

"Please," Lucifer whispered, his voice cracking with need. "I…need to be fucked."

Alastor paused, his free hand stroking soothingly along Lucifer's side. "Oh?" he asked, a hint of surprise in his tone. "And here I thought you were enjoying being my helpless little gift."

"I am, it's just…I want to be closer. To see you. Please, Alastor."

He held his breath, waiting for Alastor's response, acutely aware of how much he'd opened himself up in that moment.

Alastor's fingers stilled, and Lucifer felt the weight of his gaze.

A moment of silence stretched between them, broken only by the crackling of the fire.

"Color?" Alastor asked, his voice soft but firm.

Lucifer's heart swelled at the care in that simple question.

"Green," he replied without hesitation. "It's green. I just…I want to look at you, even if we're not—even if you don’t fuck me."

A gravelly chuckle rumbled through Alastor's chest.

"My, my. Aren't we needy tonight?" His tone was teasing, but Lucifer could hear the affection beneath it.

"You'll have to wait for me to retie you," Alastor continued, his fingers trailing lightly over Lucifer's bound arms. "Can you be patient for me?"

Lucifer nodded eagerly, then realized Alastor might not be able to see. "Yes," he breathed. "Yes, I can wait."

"Good boy," Alastor purred, and Lucifer felt himself melt at the praise.

Alastor's fingers danced along the intricate knots, slowly unraveling his previous work. The satin ribbons slithered across Lucifer's skin as they came undone, each brush of fabric against flesh sending shivers through his body.

Lucifer fought to remain still.

“There we are," Alastor murmured, his voice low and soothing as the last of the bindings fell away. "Now, let's see about getting you into a more…accommodating position."

With gentle but firm hands, Alastor guided Lucifer onto his back.

The plush rug beneath him was a stark contrast to the heat of his flushed skin. Lucifer gazed up at Alastor, drinking in the sight of his lover silhouetted against the flickering firelight.

"Give me your hand," Alastor instructed softly, and Lucifer complied without hesitation.

The ribbon whispered across his skin as Alastor began the process of the crab tie.

He started with Lucifer's right wrist, wrapping the satin around it in a series of precise, snug loops. The material was cool against Lucifer's heated flesh, a constant reminder.

Alastor worked methodically, his movements deliberate and unhurried.

He guided Lucifer's arm down, bending it at the elbow until his wrist rested against his upper thigh. With deft fingers, he secured the wrist in place, weaving the ribbon around Lucifer's thigh in an to bind it.

"How does that feel?" Alastor asked, his hazel eyes dark with desire as they met Lucifer's.

"Good," Lucifer breathed, testing the bonds. They were snug but not uncomfortable, holding him firmly in place. "Very good."

A pleased smile curved Alastor's lips. "Excellent. Now for the other side."

He repeated the process on Lucifer's left side, each touch and twist of the ribbon heightening Lucifer's anticipation.

This tie gave him more movement, but just barely.

All Lucifer could do…was spread himself wide for Alastor.

As the brunette worked, he peppered Lucifer's skin with feather-light kisses and teasing caresses.

A brush of lips against his inner thigh. A ghost of fingers along his ribs. Each touch sent sparks of pleasure coursing through Lucifer's body, building the tension coiling low in his belly.

"Almost done," Alastor murmured, his breath hot against Lucifer's ear. "You're being so good for me, darling. So patient."

The praise sent a fresh wave of want through Lucifer. He moaned softly, straining against the bonds in a futile attempt to press closer to Alastor.

"There we are," Alastor murmured, his voice low and rich. "Open up for me, like a gift waiting to be played with."

Lucifer tugged experimentally at the new bonds, feeling the satin ribbons bite gently into his skin.

The crab tie left him utterly exposed, arms bound to his knees and legs splayed open.

Vulnerable. On display.

A flicker of doubt crept into his mind—a shell of a man.

Stripped bare, trussed up like some plaything?

The firelight cast dancing shadows across his body, highlighting every imperfection. The softness of his belly, the slight tremor in his thighs as they refused to part fully.

"Second thoughts, darling?" Alastor's voice cut through Lucifer's spiraling thoughts, low and rich with concern.

Lucifer swallowed hard, unable to meet Alastor's gaze.

"I…it's nothing," he mumbled, face flushing with shame.

"Now, now," Alastor chided gently, his long fingers tracing along Lucifer's inner thigh. "None of that. You're my present, remember? And what an exquisite gift you are.

His touch was reverent, worshipful even, as he explored Lucifer's bound form.

"So beautiful," Alastor murmured, pressing a kiss to Lucifer's knee. "Every inch of you, a masterpiece."

Lucifer's breath caught in his throat, Alastor's praise washing over him like a balm.

"That's it," Alastor encouraged, his hazel eyes dark with desire as they raked over Lucifer's body. "Open up for me, darling. Let me see all of you."

Hesitantly at first, then with growing confidence, Lucifer relaxed into the pose.

He pulled his legs further apart, offering himself completely to Alastor's hungry gaze.

His soft thighs quivered slightly with the effort, his belly rising and falling with each shaky breath.

His cock lay hard and aching against his stomach, a bead of pre-cum glistening at the tip. And his hole clenched and fluttered, still slick and open for Alastor.

"Oh, Lucifer," Alastor breathed, his voice thick with want. "You have no idea how excited I am about my gift. So perfect, so eager to please."

A deep blush spread across Lucifer's cheeks and down his chest at the praise.

He felt more than desired. Like he was whole again.

Alastor's nimble fingers selected another length of crimson ribbon, shorter and thinner than the rest.

“You’re not going to—”

Alastor caught his eye, with a smirk. “Yes, I am.”

With agonizing slowness, he wrapped it around the base of Lucifer's cock, forming an intricate bow.

"There," Alastor purred, admiring his handiwork. "Now you're truly gift-wrapped and ready to be savored."

Lucifer didn’t think he had any blood left in his body, between his blush and how impossibly hard he was.

The ribbon wasn’t tight. They weren’t using it as a cock ring.

It was purely for Alastor’s eyes to devour him.

"You're perfect like this. But if it becomes uncomfortable, you tell me immediately. Understood?"

Lucifer nodded, leaning into the touch. "Yes, I understand."

The anticipation built as Alastor positioned himself between Lucifer's spread legs.

"Ready?" Alastor asked, his usually playful tone now laced with tenderness.

"Please," Lucifer whispered, the single word carrying all his need and trust.

Alastor cock pushed into him slowly, and Lucifer gasped at the sensation. The feeling of fullness, of connection, was overwhelming.

He instinctively tried to reach for Alastor, to pull him closer, but the ribbons held firm, reminding him of his helplessness.

"Oh," Lucifer breathed, eyes wide as he looked up at Alastor. "I…I can't…"

"That's right, angel. You're completely at my mercy. How does it feel?"

Lucifer struggled to find the words, the emotions and sensations threatening to overwhelm him.

"So much. But good. So good."

Alastor began to move, his hips rolling in a slow, deliberate rhythm.

Each thrust was measured, calculated to drive Lucifer to the brink of madness without pushing him over.

The firelight cast dancing shadows across their bodies, highlighting the sheen of sweat on Alastor's brow as he focused intently on his task.

Lucifer gasped, his head falling back against the plush rug.

The feeling of Alastor inside him, coupled with his inability to move, was exquisite torture.

He could feel every inch of Alastor's cock as it slid in and out, the drag against his inner walls sending sparks of pleasure through his body.

"A-Alastor," Lucifer bleated, straining against his bonds. His fingers flexed uselessly, desperate to touch, to pull Alastor closer.

But Alastor remained just out of reach, hovering above him like some tantalizingly beautiful mirage.

His hazel eyes, dark with desire, locked onto Lucifer's face, drinking in every twitch and gasp.

He leaned down, brushing his lips against Lucifer's forehead in a feather-light kiss.

Lucifer arched up, trying to capture those lips with his own, but Alastor pulled back just enough to deny him.

A frustrated whine escaped Lucifer's throat as Alastor's cock brushed against his prostate, sending a jolt of pleasure through him. His own cock lay neglected against his stomach, aching for attention. More than a damn ribbon could do.

He continued his torturously slow pace, each plunge precise and controlled.

Lucifer squirmed beneath him, trying desperately to meet Alastor's movements, to create more friction, more pressure.

But the ribbons held firm, keeping him spread open and vulnerable.

Alastor dipped his head again, this time pressing a soft kiss to Lucifer's cheek. His breath was warm against Lucifer's skin as he whispered,

"You're so beautiful like this, all bound up for me. My perfect Christmas present."

Lucifer turned his head, seeking Alastor's mouth, but once again, the brunette pulled back just enough to deny him.

The retraction only fueled Lucifer's desire, making him ache for more.

The fire crackled in the background, its warmth adding to the heat building between their bodies. Sweat glistened on Lucifer's skin, making the satin ribbons cling to him even more.

"Alastor, please," Lucifer pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation. "I need to touch you. Just. Please."

Alastor paused, considering the request.

His hazel eyes, usually sharp with mischief, softened behind his round glasses. "Well, since you asked so nicely," he murmured, reaching down to untie Lucifer's right hand.

The moment his wrist was free, Lucifer's hand shot up, grasping at Alastor's shoulder. His fingers dug into the warm brown skin, pulling Alastor closer with an urgency that surprised them both.

Lucifer's newly freed leg wrapped around Alastor's waist, drawing him in deeper.

"Better?" Alastor asked, a hint of amusement in his tone.

Lucifer nodded frantically, his golden hair mussed against the plush rug.

"Yes, thank you, thank you," he breathed, relishing the ability to finally touch, to hold.

Alastor began to move, setting a confoundingly slow rhythm. Each thrust was deep and deliberate, drawing out soft gasps from Lucifer.

"Faster," Lucifer urged, his hand sliding up to tangle in Alastor's dark curls.

Alastor chuckled, the sound low and rich.

"I'm not about to be rushed just because you're clutching at me."

Lucifer whined in frustration, his gold-flecked eyes darting around desperately. Suddenly, he spotted the forgotten sprig of mistletoe just above his head. With a surge of determination, he stretched his arm out, snatching it up.

"What are you—" Alastor began, but stopped short as Lucifer held the mistletoe between them.

"Kiss me," Lucifer demanded softly. "I want…I need…"

A rare, genuine smile spread across Alastor's face, touched by the gesture.

"Oh, Lucifer," he murmured, leaning down. "You needn't use mistletoe for that."

Their lips met in a deep, tender kiss, as Alastor continued his slow, steady rhythm. Lucifer melted into it.

Alastor's free hand trailed down Lucifer's side, coming to rest on his hip. With a gentle tug, he pulled Lucifer closer, plunging his cock deeper.

Lucifer gasped against Alastor's lips, his body trembling.

"Alastor," Lucifer whispered, his voice heavy with emotion. "Please…I need…"

Without a word, he reached down, deftly untying Lucifer's other hand.

The moment he was free, Lucifer wrapped both arms around Alastor, pulling him flush against his body.

"There you are," Alastor murmured, nuzzling into Lucifer's neck. "My beautiful, precious gift."

Lucifer whimpered.

The red ribbons dangled from his wrists and thighs, a sensual reminder.

He clung to Alastor, savoring every point of contact between them.

"You make me feel like this," Lucifer admitted, his words barely audible.

Alastor's rhythm remained unhurried, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through Lucifer's body.

"You deserve to feel cherished, darling. Let me show you how much you mean to me."

As they moved together, Lucifer felt a gradual build of tension, a slow-burning fire threatening to consume him.

He gazed up at Alastor, marveling at the tenderness in those hazel eyes.

"I'm close," Lucifer breathed, his fingers digging into Alastor's shoulders.

Alastor nodded, his own breath coming faster. "I believe you aren’t the only one.”

Fuck, the effect he was having on Alastor. Somehow, it always managed to surprise and thrill him. That he could make this gorgeous man slip his control.

Slowly, he’d been breaking through Alastor’s walls.

“Stay with me.”

With a soft cry, Alastor ducked his head and surrendered to his own pleasure. Lucifer followed him over the edge. Clinging to each other.

As their breathing slowly returned to normal, Alastor carefully eased them both onto their sides.

The fire had died down to glowing embers, casting a warm, golden light across their intertwined bodies.

Outside, snow fell silently, muffling the world beyond their intimate cocoon.

Lucifer nestled closer, his head tucked under Alastor's chin. The red ribbons tangled around them, a vibrant contrast against their skin. He felt utterly safe, cherished, and at peace.

"Thank you," Lucifer murmured, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on Alastor's chest.

Alastor pressed a gentle kiss to Lucifer's forehead. "For what, darling?"

"For seeing me," Lucifer replied, his voice thick with emotion. "For making me feel... worthy."

Alastor tightened his embrace. "You've always been worthy, Lucifer. I'm just…honored to be the one to remind you."

As they lay there, basking in their contentment, the soft patter of snow against the window lulled them into a peaceful silence.

Lucifer felt the last of his insecurities melting away, replaced by a warmth that had nothing to do with the dying fire and everything to do with the man holding him close.

☕ On Ao3✨Become my Arc Reader✨On Tumblr ☕

[darcydarlingdabbles]

At Mid Winter ~ Part 3

RadioApple❄️Human Au/Age Gap✨Top!Dom!Alastor

✨Divorced Dad!Lucifer❄️Explicit~

❄️✨☕✨❄️

On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: 

a little bit of jealousy~

☕ On Ao3✨Become my Arc Reader✨On Tumblr ☕

The silence stretched out like caramel.  Alastor seemed to be luxuriating in it. Not giving Vox an inch, when he asked for a mile. 

“Say, could we have a moment?” Vox asked, obviously itching in his skin with awkwardness that Alastor was letting dangle finally deigning to acknowledge Lucifer with a dismissive glance. “I think this needs to be a private conversation.”

Lucifer felt his eyebrows shoot up, unable to mask his indignation.

A low chuckle from Alastor broke the tense silence. “My dear Vox, how forgetful of me. Allow me to introduce Dr. Morningstar,” Alastor gestured gracefully towards Lucifer. “He’s one of our esteemed board members at the university.”

Lucifer watched with grim satisfaction as Vox’s smug expression wavered. 

“Oh, sir, I’m sorry, I,” Vox stammered, clearly caught off-guard. “I didn’t realize—”

“Oh, don’t mind me.” Lucifer murmured, gesturing with his spoon. And trying not to smirk at the sticky situation Vox had gotten himself into. 

“I’m sure whatever you wished to discuss can be said in present company.” Alastor interjected smoothly, though his smile held a hint of steel. “After all, beating around the bush is a coward’s tactic, wouldn’t you agree?”

Lucifer hid a laugh in a cough, and reached for his water. Leave it to Alastor to put this presumptuous fool in his place with such effortless charm. The brunette certainly wasn’t one to pussy-foot around what he wanted. 

Vox’s entire brain seemed to be buffering. 

 The young man’s desperation was palpable, oozing from every pore as he fidgeted under Alastor’s steady gaze. 

It was almost pitiful, really. Lucifer’s eyes flicked to Alastor, taking in his companion’s easy, confident smirk.

“Well, Vox?” Alastor prompted, his voice silky smooth. “You seemed so eager to speak with me. Surely you’re not at a loss for words now?”

Vox cleared his throat, casting a nervous glance at Lucifer. “I, uh... it’s just that…”

“Come now,” Alastor leaned forward, his smile sharpening. “If you lack the confidence to speak your mind in front of Dr. Morningstar, perhaps it’s best left unsaid.”

Lucifer couldn’t help but admire Alastor’s masterful handling of the situation. 

He watched Vox squirm, torn between his obvious desire to speak with Alastor and the intimidating presence of a board member.

“Alright, fine,” Vox blurted out, his words tumbling over each other. “Alastor, would you be my date to the gala tomorrow night?”

Lucifer’s eyes widened, any composure he had went right down the drain. 

He couldn’t believe the audacity of this…this kid.

His gaze darted to Alastor, searching for a reaction.

To his credit, Alastor’s only visible response was a slight raising of his eyebrows. His smile remained fixed, though Lucifer detected a hint of amusement dancing in those hazel eyes.

“My, my,” Alastor drawled, his voice tinged with surprise. “That is quite the…bold proposition.”

As Lucifer watched the exchange, a realization struck him.

 He could see why Vox, and likely many others, viewed Alastor as nothing more than a pretty face to be pursued and conquered. Hell, he’d assumed he was a twink when they first met.

But there was so much more beneath that surface.

 Alastor exuded an aura of power and control that seemed to go unnoticed by anyone not paying enough attention. It was subtle, yes, but unmistakable. 

Lucifer found himself wondering how many people truly understood that Alastor was the one who did the asking out, not the other way around.

“I must say,” Alastor continued, his voice pulling Lucifer from his thoughts, “your boldness is quite refreshing, Vox. Though perhaps a tad misplaced.”

Alastor leaned back slightly, his posture relaxed yet commanding. 

“I’m afraid I must decline your generous offer,” he said, his tone smooth as silk. “As it happens, I’ll be quite occupied during the gala. Hosting duties and a performance, you see. I doubt I’d have time for a proper date.”

Lucifer felt a wave of relief wash over him, though he kept his expression neutral. He watched Vox carefully, curious to see how the man would react to the rejection.

Vox’s eager grin faltered for a moment, his bravado cracking under Alastor’s unwavering gaze. 

“I…I see,” Vox stammered, his voice losing some of its earlier confidence. He ran a hand through his perfectly coiffed hair, mussing it. “Well, I suppose I should have expected as much. You’ve always been rather…elusive.”

Vox’s demeanor oscillated between wounded pride and desperate persistence. It was like watching a moth repeatedly throwing itself against a bright, unyielding light.

Vox’s eyes darted around the room, taking in the rustic charm of the lodge restaurant. The warm glow of the fireplace cast dancing shadows on the wood-paneled walls, and the scent of pine and cinnamon hung in the air. 

Outside, snow fell gently, blanketing the world in a soft, white silence.

Suddenly, Vox’s expression brightened, as if struck by divine inspiration. 

He leaned forward, his earlier disappointment seemingly forgotten. “You know, Alastor, we’ve been dancing around each other all semester,” he said, his voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. “Don’t you think it’s time we stopped playing games?”

Lucifer raised an eyebrow, glancing at Alastor. Sure, his partner had kept his gala performance a secret. But they did talk. And Alastor had never mentioned any sort of suitor at school.

 Alastor, for his part, remained impassive, his smile fixed in place like a mask.

“I’m not sure I follow, my dear,” Alastor replied smoothly, his voice carrying a hint of warning that Vox seemed oblivious to.

Undeterred, Vox pressed on, his words tumbling out in a rush. “Oh, come on, Al. The lingering glances in the hallway, the way you always manage to be just out of reach….it’s all part of the chase, isn’t it?” He grinned, clearly pleased with his deduction. “Well, I’m tired of chasing. Let’s cut to the chase, shall we?”

“If we were…dancing around each other as you put it…you’d know it’s Alastor, only my friend calls me Al.” The brunette said, with a smirk as sharp as his steak knife. 

To Lucifer’s surprise, Vox’s eager expression didn’t falter. “C’mon, Al, you and I were meant to be more than friends.” 

Lucifer watched as Alastor’s fingers tightened almost imperceptibly around his espresso cup, the only outward sign of his growing irritation. 

“Is that so?”

 “Of course it is,” Vox exclaimed, leaning forward. “How about I prove it to you over brunch tomorrow? Before the gala?”

Oh, that was pathetic. The dark-haired man was already showing all his cards, and…that he didn’t respect boundaries—something that Alastor was deadly serious about.

“Brunch?” Alastor repeated, his smile widening. “Well, that does sound delightful. I suppose I could spare an hour or two before the preparations begin in earnest.”

Lucifer felt as if the air had been sucked out of his lungs. He stared at Alastor, utterly stunned. 

Had he just agreed to a date with Vox? After rejecting him so smoothly mere moments ago?

“Oh fuck yes!” Vox beamed, oblivious to Lucifer’s internal turmoil. and his presence entirely. “Eleven o’clock?”

As Alastor nodded his assent, Lucifer found himself gripping his spoon a bit too tightly, his knuckles turning white.

The rest of the noise in the room muffled in the wake the cacophony in his head. 

❄️✨☕✨❄️

Lucifer’s heart pounded in his chest as he ascended the stairs, his fingers twitching with the urge to reach out and grab Alastor. 

The jealousy coursing through his veins was unlike anything he’d felt before. 

He couldn’t fathom how Alastor could so casually agree to a date with that insufferable ego maniac.

“I can’t believe you’re actually going through with this,” Lucifer muttered, his shoulder brushing against Alastor’s as they climbed the stairs—because the brunette was sticking to the damn healthy crusade like he hadn’t just thrown the older man for a loop. 

Alastor cast a sidelong glance at him, his ever-present smile tinged with amusement.

 “Darling, you aren’t…really concerned about this, are you?”

“Concern? Hardly,” Lucifer scoffed, inching closer to Alastor as they reached the second floor landing. “I just thought you had better taste.”

As they continued up to the third floor, Lucifer found himself practically glued to Alastor’s side. His hand “accidentally” grazed Alastor’s lower back, lingering perhaps a moment too long.

“You seem rather tactile this evening,” Alastor observed, his voice low and tinged with something Lucifer couldn’t quite place.

The blonde swallowed hard, his mind racing.

 Was he being too obvious? Did he even care at this point? 

“Just making sure you don’t lose your footing on these treacherous stairs,” he replied, his attempt at nonchalance falling flat even to his own ears.

The third floor stretched before them, quieter and more secluded than the bustling lobby below.

 Lucifer’s suite awaited at the end of the hall, a sanctuary where he could finally confront Alastor about this unexpected turn of events.

As they entered the spacious rooms, Lucifer’s eyes swept over the luxurious furnishings—the plush leather sofa, the gleaming wood paneling, the crackling fireplace. 

But his attention quickly snapped back to Alastor, who was casually removing his jacket.

Tension swirled around them. Roiling. Writhing. As Lucifer debated how to broach the elephant in the room—Alastor was going on a date. While he was dating Lucifer. 

Yes, Alastor constantly reiterated that he had never been in a relationship before—but surely this was one of those things that didn’t need explaining. It wasn’t like getting the text ‘we need to talk’ when all Alastor was worried about was the laundry. 

Just as Lucifer was wrestling with everything he wanted to say, and worried he’d say too much, the younger man sliced through the thick silence. 

“I must say, darling,” Alastor began, his voice calm and measured, “your behavior this evening has been rather…interesting.” He draped his jacket over a nearby chair, then turned to face Lucifer directly. “Especially considering your insistence on maintaining appearances in public.”

Lucifer felt a flush creep up his neck. 

“What are you saying, Alastor?” he asked, his voice tight.

Alastor’s smile stayed perfectly static. “Simply that I was following your directive. Keeping up appearances, as you put it. That’s precisely what I was doing by accepting Vox’s invitation.”

Lucifer folded his arms across his chest, a defensive posture he knew Alastor would recognize. 

“That’s not—” he began, then caught himself.

 Dammit. Alastor was right, of course. 

Lucifer had stressed the importance of discretion, of acting normally around others. But the thought of Alastor with someone else…even if it was fake. 

He huffed out a breath. “Fine. Yes, I said that. But agreeing to a date? That’s taking it too far, don’t you think?”

“Is it?” Alastor raised an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware there were limits to this charade. Because you did not set them.”

Lucifer’s jaw clenched. “That doesn’t mean you get to decide to date someone else,” he snapped, immediately regretting the petulant tone in his voice.

Alastor’s eyebrow arched even higher, his smile taking on a dangerous edge. 

“Oh? Are you telling me what to do?” His voice was silky smooth, but there was an undercurrent of steel that made Lucifer’s breath catch in his throat.

Lucifer bit his lip, a shiver of anticipation running down his spine.

 He knew that tone all too well. It was the voice Alastor used when he was about to take control, to pull Lucifer into one of their scenes. 

And Lucifer knew, he had a choice. If he said the right words, he could provoke Alastor, and the younger man would gladly put him in his place. 

Or, Lucifer could be the mature and responsible adult—kill the mood and have a real conversation about expectations in public. 

“Yeah, I am.” Lucifer began, his heart racing. 

Alastor took a step closer, his eyes never leaving Lucifer’s face.

 Well, the conversation could wait until they got it out of their systems. 

Fuck it. 

“And what’re you gonna do about it?” The blonde challenged, his tone dripping with bratty insolence.

In a heartbeat, Alastor closed the distance between them. He seized Lucifer by the shoulders and slammed him against the wall, knocking the breath from his lungs. 

Lucifer’s pulse quickened, a thrill of excitement coursing through him as Alastor’s fingers deftly unfastened the top buttons of his shirt.

“Darling,” Alastor purred, his voice low and dangerous, “you really ought to be careful what you wish for.”

Before Lucifer could respond, Alastor’s teeth sank into the sensitive flesh where his neck met his shoulder. 

A gasp of pleasure escaped Lucifer’s lips, his body arching involuntarily into Alastor’s. The bite was sharp, bordering on painful, but it sent waves of desire flooding through him.

Harder than usual—Alastor’s version of a punishment—that just made Lucifer feel weak in the knees. 

And so terribly, wonderfully, wanted. 

Lucifer tilted his head, offering more of his neck to Alastor’s hungry mouth. 

“Is that all you’ve got?” he breathed, unable to resist pushing further.

Alastor’s eyes glinted dangerously as he pulled back, his fingers still gripping Lucifer’s collar. With a swift motion, he yanked Lucifer’s shirt down, exposing more of his pale skin. 

The brunette was pulling something from his pocket, but before the blonde could look, a hand gripped him roughly by the jaw, pushing his face into the wood paneling. 

“Stay still,” Alastor commanded, his voice carrying an edge that curled arousal in Lucifer’s stomach.

Lucifer felt something cool and wet against his neck—the tip of a pen, he realized. Alastor’s hand held him firmly in place as he began to write, the strokes deliberate and unhurried.

Curiosity burned through Lucifer. What was Alastor writing? He yearned to pull free, to crane his neck, to catch a glimpse in any reflective surface.

Alastor gave a self-satisfied sound and pulled away without a word.

“What did you write?” Lucifer asked, trying to keep his voice casual despite the anticipation thrumming through him.

Alastor’s lips curled into a smirk. “That’s for me to know,” he replied smoothly, capping the pen with a decisive click.

“You’re not going to tell me?” Lucifer gaped. 

“No,” Alastor said, his tone maddeningly calm. “And you’re not allowed to look, either.”

Frustration and arousal commingled furiously inside the older man. 

He knew Alastor was fully aware of how this would affect him—the not knowing, the burning desire to see. 

It was maddening, and Alastor knew exactly what he was doing.

“That’s so mean,” Lucifer muttered, his fingers twitching with the urge to reach up and touch the hidden message.

Alastor chuckled, low and dark. “Perhaps. But we both know how much you enjoy a little meanness, don’t we?”

Lucifer’s hand moved of its own accord, covering the spot on his neck where Alastor had written. 

The skin tingled beneath his palm, as if the ink itself were alive. He swallowed hard, fighting the overwhelming urge to dash to the nearest nearest mirror. 

And there were so many in this damn hotel room.

His gaze flicked to the ornate mirror mounted on the far wall. It beckoned to him, promising answers if he’d only look. 

But Lucifer knew better. He knew Alastor better. Disobeying was fine, until it ruined Alastor’s plans for a scene. Because then, he had all night to make Lucifer pay for throwing of this groove. 

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” Alastor’s voice was silky smooth, tinged with amusement. “About how easy it would be to just…take a peek.”

Lucifer’s breath hitched. “I won’t,” he insisted, though his eyes remained fixed on the mirror.

Alastor stepped closer, his breath hot against Lucifer’s ear. “Good boy. Because if you look…” He paused, letting the tension build. “We won’t be having any fun tonight. No sex, at all.”

A whine escaped Lucifer’s throat before he could stop it. “That’s not fair,” he protested weakly.

“Life rarely is,” Alastor replied with a chuckle. “Now, the question is: how badly do you want to know what I’ve written? Badly enough to forfeit everything else?”

Lucifer bit his lip, torn between curiosity and desire. 

The night stretched before them, full of tantalizing possibilities—if only he could resist the temptation to look.

“Very good,” Alastor’s smirk widened, a predatory gleam in his eyes. “Now, because I am generous. I’m going to offer you some assistance in obeying me.” 

Lucifer’s breath caught. “Please,” he whispered, anticipation toroid in his chest

With deliberate slowness, Alastor reached into his suitcase, withdrawing a long, scarlet ribbon. 

The silk shimmered in the low light, hypnotizing in its simple elegance. 

“Close your eyes,” Alastor commanded softly.

Lucifer obeyed, shivering as the cool fabric slid across his face. Alastor’s deft fingers secured the blindfold, plunging Lucifer into red-tinged darkness. 

The loss of sight heightened his other senses.Alastor’s cinnamon cologne, the whisper of fabric, the heat radiating from his lover’s body.

“Perfect,” Alastor purred. “Now, listen carefully. You are to remain still, to the best of your ability, unless I move you. Understand? Any unauthorized movement, and you’ll face the same punishment as looking. Nod if you agree.”

Lucifer nodded, pulse quickening. 

“Good boy,” Alastor praised. “Let’s begin.”

Lucifer fought to remain motionless as Alastor’s fingers trailed down his chest, deftly unfastening buttons. The cool air hit his exposed skin, raising goosebumps. 

He desperately wanted to lean into the touch, to arch his back, but the threat of punishment kept him frozen.

“I can hear you concentrating, darling,” Alastor murmured, sliding the shirt from Lucifer’s shoulders. “Such an admirable amount of restraint. Even when you’re trying to be insolent.”

Lucifer licked over his bottom lip, seeing if that was allowed, but Alastor just chuckled. 

“You’re allowed to speak.” The younger said, his voice so close to the blonde’s ear, he jumped. “And react to me.” 

Lucifer sighed out relief. He could stay quiet, or he could stay still. He couldn’t do both. 

Alastor was behind him now, the warmth of him tingling along Lucifer’s back as he undid Lucifer’s belt. 

“You know, it’s adorable.” Alastor teased, his chin brushing along Lucifer’s shoulder as he pushed his briefs down his legs. “How desperately you want me to fuck you, no matter how many times I have.” 

“Always want you to fuck me.” Lucifer murmured, feeling the heat of his blush under the blindfold. 

But the satisfied little huff of breath he got from his lover was well worth it. He just wished he could see that almost bashful look on Alastor’s face. 

Lucifer jumped when he heard the pop of a marker cap. 

What would Alastor do next? The uncertainty was maddening, but thrilling. 

He felt vulnerable, exposed, utterly at Alastor’s mercy. And he loved every second of it.

Lucifer tensed as he felt something cool and wet touch his skin. The smell of ink wafted to his nostrils.

“What are you—” he began, but the younger shushed him gently.

“Patience, my dear,” Alastor murmured, his breath warm against Lucifer’s ear. “I’m creating a masterpiece.”

The pen glided across Lucifer’s collarbone, tracing delicate patterns that Lucifer couldn’t even begin to make letters of. 

His breath hitched as Alastor’s hand moved lower, drawing along his sternum and down to his abdomen. 

“You’re trembling,” Alastor observed, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Nervous?”

Lucifer swallowed hard. “A little,” he admitted. “I…I can’t see what you’re writing.”

“That would be the point, love,” Alastor chuckled. His free hand caressed Lucifer’s cheek reassuringly. “To trust me.”

The pen traveled to Lucifer’s side, tickling slightly as it moved. Then, to his horror and excitement, Alastor’s hand drifted lower, to the soft flesh of Lucifer’s hips and thighs.

“Alastor,” Lucifer whispered, his voice strained. “You know I’m…sensitive about…”

“Shh,” Alastor soothed, his lips brushing Lucifer’s belly button. “Let me show you how beautiful you are.”

The pen continued its journey, mapping out the curves and dips of Lucifer’s body. Each stroke sent shivers through him, vulnerability and arousal building with every passing moment.

Lucifer gasped as the cool pen traced delicate patterns across his hipbone. 

Alastor’s touch was feather-light yet electrifying, sending tingles radiating outward with each stroke. 

The blonde bit his lip, fighting to remain still as Alastor’s hand drifted lower, skimming along the sensitive skin of his inner thigh.

“Breathe, darling,” Alastor murmured, his warm breath ghosting over Lucifer’s skin. 

The pen swirled lazy circles down Lucifer’s thigh, occasionally dipping teasingly close to more intimate areas before retreating.

 Lucifer’s breath hitched as Alastor traced the curve of his knee, then continued down his calf. 

The cool ink left goosebumps in its wake.

Just as Lucifer was beginning to relax into the sensations, Alastor’s hand gripped his shoulder firmly. He spun Lucifer around and pushed him face-first onto the plush king-sized bed.

 Lucifer let out a surprised “oof” as he landed on the silky sheets.

“Comfortable?” Alastor asked, amusement evident in his voice.

Before Lucifer could respond, he felt the mattress dip as Alastor knelt beside him. 

The pen returned, this time dancing across the back of Lucifer’s thighs. Lucifer shivered, hyper-aware of every point of contact. 

The strokes became bolder, longer. Lucifer was sure Alastor must be writing full damn sentences now. His mind raced, imagining what filthy phrases might be etched across his skin. 

‘Property of Alastor,’ perhaps?

 Or maybe something even more lewd?

A whimper escaped Lucifer’s lips as Alastor’s hand drifted higher, the pen now gliding over the curve of his ass. 

He felt exposed, vulnerable, and utterly aroused. 

His hips shifted restlessly against the bed, seeking friction.

“Now, now,” Alastor chided gently, his free hand pressing down on Lucifer’s lower back. “I thought I told you to stay still.”

“Sorry,” Lucifer groaned in frustration but forced himself to remain motionless. 

The pen continued its torturous journey, mapping out every inch of his backside. He could feel Alastor’s gaze burning into him, drinking in the sight of his artwork. 

“You look absolutely divine like this,” Alastor murmured, his voice low and husky. “Marked up and all mine.”

The possessiveness in Alastor’s tone sent a shiver down Lucifer’s spine.

 He ached to see what Alastor had written, to know exactly how he’d been claimed. But the blindfold remained firmly in place, leaving him at the mercy of his imagination and Alastor’s skilled hands.

Lucifer’s breath quickened as Alastor’s touch lingered, the pen’s strokes becoming slower, more deliberate. 

He could feel the heat radiating from Alastor’s body, so close to his own. The blindfold heightened every sensation, making him acutely aware of each brush of Alastor’s fingers against his skin.

“Alastor,” Lucifer whispered, his voice thick with want. “Are you…enjoying this?”

Alastor’s low chuckle sent a shiver over every inch of his marked skin. 

“Oh, very much so,” he purred, his hand now caressing Lucifer’s hip. “You’re exquisite, my dear.”

Lucifer felt a surge of warmth at the praise, his body responding eagerly to Alastor’s touch. He yearned to see what had been written.

“Please,” Lucifer pleaded softly. “Can I look now?”

“Not yet,” Alastor replied, his voice almost sing song with teasing. “I’m not finished appreciating my work.”

Lucifer heard the cap of a bottle being opened, followed by the slick sound of lubricant. His heart raced as he felt Alastor’s fingers, now slick and warm, trace the curve of his ass.

“Wait, Alastor,” Lucifer gasped, “you’re not going to let me see it?”

Alastor’s fingers teased at Lucifer’s entrance as he leaned in close, his lips brushing Lucifer’s ear. “Are you saying you don’t want me to fuck you?”

“No!” Lucifer said at once, biting his lip at how damn petulant his tone was. 

“Then, behave.” 

Lucifer shivered at Alastor’s words, his body thrumming with anticipation. 

As Alastor’s fingers worked him open with the ease of confidence and familiarity, Lucifer’s mind drifted, his thoughts a hazy blend of pleasure and contemplation. 

There was one thing he knew about Alastor, something that had become intimately familiar over the course of their relationship: Alastor sometimes required a lot of foreplay. 

They weren’t exactly the type of couple that could have a quickie in a bathroom stall—not that Lucifer minded. He relished the drawn-out anticipation, the slow burn of desire.

But after a scene like this, Alastor was usually sufficiently worked up to enjoy sex and relaxed enough come. The thought sent a thrill through Lucifer. 

He loved knowing he could affect Alastor this way, could break through his composure and bring him satisfaction.

Lucifer gasped as Alastor’s fingers curled inside him, brushing against that spot that made him see stars. 

The sensation was intensified by the darkness of the blindfold, every touch magnified tenfold. The contrast between the drying ink and Alastor’s warm touch was intoxicating.

“You’re doing so well,” Alastor murmured, his voice a low purr. “So beautiful, all marked up for me.”

Lucifer whimpered, overwhelmed by the praise and the sensations coursing through his body. 

He could feel Alastor’s clothed cock pressing against his thigh, hard and insistent, filled Lucifer with a heady mix of pride and hunger.

“Please,” Lucifer whispered, his voice hoarse with need

Alastor’s fingers stilled for a moment, and Lucifer could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “Patience, darling. Good things come to those who wait.”

As Alastor resumed his ministrations, adding a third finger and stretching Lucifer further, the blonde found himself lost in a sea of sensation. T

he silk of the blindfold against his face, the cool air on his ink-covered skin, the heat of Alastor’s body so close to his own—it was all too much and not enough at the same time.

Lucifer’s fingers clutched at the sheets, his body quivering with the effort to remain still. 

He knew Alastor was watching him, drinking in every reaction, every shiver, every muffled moan.

 The thought only inflamed him further, knowing how much Alastor enjoyed seeing him like this.

“Alastor,” Lucifer breathed, his voice wobbling slightly. “You seem…more worked up than usual.”

Alastor’s fingers stilled for a moment before resuming their ministrations. 

“You’re not wrong, darling,” he murmured. “This little scene of ours…it’s quite effective. Don’t you agree?”

Lucifer felt a surge of pride at Alastor’s admission. 

He arched his back, pressing against Alastor’s touch. “I’m glad,” he whispered. “Want you…to enjoy this as much as I am.”

Suddenly, Lucifer felt Alastor’s hands on his arms, guiding him upright. “Stand up.” The movement was gentle but firm, leaving no room for resistance. 

“Hands against the wall,” Alastor instructed, his voice gone low with desire.

Lucifer complied, his palms pressing against the smooth surface. 

He felt Alastor’s body heat behind him, the anticipation becoming nearly unbearable as he heard clothing being shed. 

“Ready?” Alastor asked, his hands gripping Lucifer’s hips.

“Fuck, yes,” Lucifer gasped. “Please, Alastor.”

With a low groan, he felt the younger man’s cock finally press past his rim, finally entering him.

 The sensation was overwhelming, and Lucifer let out a strangled moan of pleasure.

 Lucifer’s body quaked with each thrust from Alastor, sending waves of pleasure through him.

 The blindfold heightened every sensation, making him acutely aware of Alastor’s hands gripping his hips, short nails biting into his skin, the heat of his breath on the back of his neck, the slick slide of their bodies coming together.

Lucifer moaned, his fingers scrabbling against the wall for purchase. 

He felt utterly consumed, lost in a haze of ecstasy as Alastor’s cock hit that perfect spot inside him over and over.

The room filled with their sounds—skin against skin, breathless gasps, and low groans of pleasure. 

Lucifer could feel his climax building, a coiling tension in his lower abdomen that threatened to overwhelm him at any moment.

“You’re close already, aren’t you darling?” Alastor purred, his voice strained with his own mounting pleasure. “I can feel you tightening around me.”

Lucifer nodded frantically, beyond words.

 His world had narrowed to the points where their bodies connected, to the exquisite friction of Alastor moving inside him. 

He was teetering on the edge, desperate for release but not wanting this moment to end.

Just as Lucifer felt he could come despite being denied the sight of Alastor fucking him, he felt fingers at the back of his head. 

 Then Alastor pulled the blindfold off.

Lucifer’s eyes flew open, adjusting quickly to the sudden influx of light. He found himself face to face with the ornate mirror on the wall, its gilded frame reflecting their entwined bodies in stark detail.

Lucifer’s gaze darted away, instinct demanding he obey Alastor, and warring with his burning curiosity. 

But in that split second before he averted his eyes, he caught a glimpse of his reflection—flushed skin adorned with intricate script in Alastor’s perfect handwriting.

“Look,” Alastor commanded, his voice a low growl in Lucifer’s ear.

Lucifer’s gaze met his own reflection in the mirror before him. But with a wince, he jerked away. 

“No, darling,” Alastor said, his tone softening slightly. “I want you to see. Look at yourself.”

Lucifer’s heart raced, arousal and trepidation flooding his senses. 

He’d participated in scenes like this before, back in the day, where submissives were marked up and grafitied for everone to see. 

 But those experiences had always been tinged with humiliation, the words scrawled across skin meant to degrade and shame.

“I…I can’t,” Lucifer whined, his voice barely audible.

Alastor’s hand cupped Lucifer’s chin gently, turning his face towards the mirror. “Trust me,” he murmured. “Open your eyes and see what I see.”

Lucifer swallowed hard, steeling himself for what he might find. 

With a shaky breath, he slowly opened his eyes, bracing for the impact of cruel words etched across his skin.

Lucifer’s eyes widened as he took in the sight before him. Instead of the expected derogatory remarks, he found his skin adorned with elegant script, each word a testament to Alastor’s affection. 

‘Beautiful,’ was written across his collarbone in Alastor’s neat handwriting. ‘Gorgeous’ curved along his hip. ‘My favorite part’ traced the line of his thigh.

Lucifer’s breath caught in his throat. He felt like his lungs were freezing. 

 “Al…Alastor I...” he stammered, unable to form coherent thoughts as his eyes roamed over the litany of praise covering his body.

Alastor’s fingers trailed along Lucifer’s side, following the curve of the words. “Every inch of you, my dear,” he murmured, “is exquisite.”

A sob threatened to escape Lucifer’s throat as the weight of Alastor’s words washed over him. 

He blinked rapidly, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill.

Alastor immediately stilled, his expression shifting to one of concern. “Color?” he asked softly, his hand moving to cup Lucifer’s face.

“I…I’m…” Lucifer struggled to speak, his words coming out in a choked whisper. Overwhelmed by the unexpected tenderness of Alastor’s actions.

Obviously aware of Lucifer’s distress, Alastor began to pull away, to pull out, his movements slow and careful. “It’s alright Lucifer, we can stop—”

Lucifer’s hand shot out, grasping Alastor’s wrist as he stayed bent over in front of the mirror.

 He wanted to reassure him, to explain the storm of emotions coursing through him, but the words wouldn’t come. 

Instead, he found himself staring at their joined hands, gaping at the contrast between Alastor’s steady grip and his own shaking fingers.

“Don’t,” Lucifer managed to choke out, his voice thick with emotion. “Please don’t.” He took a shaky breath, forcing himself to meet Alastor’s gaze in the mirror. “Green. It’s just…it’s a lot, but it’s green.”

Alastor nodded, though the concern didn’t leave his eyes. His fingers ghosted along Lucifer’s cheek, wiping away a stray tear. 

Lucifer leaned into the touch, craving the contact, the reassurance.

With a gentle tug, Alastor wound his fingers through Lucifer’s hair, using the grip to tilt his head back slightly.

 “I say these things to you all the time,” he murmured, his voice a low, soothing rumble.

Lucifer swallowed hard, his eyes flickering between Alastor’s face and their reflection in the mirror. 

“Seeing them is different,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

 He felt raw, exposed in a way that went beyond being undressed. The words on his skin seemed to burn, each adoration searing into his very being.

Alastor’s grip in his hair tightened fractionally, grounding him. Lucifer closed his eyes, focusing on the sensation, using it to anchor himself amidst the whirlwind.

Alastor’s breath was warm against Lucifer’s ear as he leaned in close. “Are you certain you’re alright?” he asked, his voice laced with genuine concern. “It’s alright to stop.”

“Please,” Lucifer interrupted, his eyes snapping open. He met Alastor’s gaze in the mirror, seeing his own desperate need reflected back at him. “Please fuck me. Please.”

A flicker of hesitation crossed Alastor’s face, but it was quickly replaced by a look of intense focus.

 He nodded once, repositioning himself behind Lucifer.

Lucifer’s breath hitched as Alastor entered him, the familiar stretch and fullness grounding him in the present moment. He braced his hands against the wall, grateful for its solid support.

As Alastor began to move, Lucifer found himself caught between the physical sensations and the emotional maelstrom within. 

Each thrust sent sparks of pleasure coursing through him, while the words written on his skin seemed to pulse with an energy of their own.

Beautiful. Gorgeous. My favorite.

The intensity built, a crescendo of sensation and emotion. Lucifer felt himself balancing on the knife’s edge of raw need.

When his climax hit, it crashed over him like a tidal wave. 

Lucifer cried out, his voice raw and broken. His body shook with the force of it, tears streaming down his face.

In an instant, Alastor’s arms were around him, pulling him close. Lucifer turned in the embrace, burying his face in Alastor’s chest as gentle kisses rained down on his forehead, his temples, his tear-stained cheeks.

“Shh, I’ve got you,” Alastor murmured, one hand cradling the back of Lucifer’s head while the other traced soothing patterns along his spine. “Are you okay, cher?”

Lucifer nodded against Alastor’s chest, not trusting his voice just yet. He focused on steadying his breathing, on the comforting rhythm of Alastor’s heartbeat beneath his ear.

After a moment, he pulled back just enough to meet Alastor’s worried gaze. “I’m okay,” Lucifer said softly, offering a watery smile. “That was…intense, but in the best way possible.”

Lucifer took a deep breath, steadying himself. He shifted, acutely aware of Alastor’s still-hard cock trapped between his thighs. 

Gently, he cupped Alastor’s face, searching those mesmerizing eyes.

“Can I take care of you now?” Lucifer asked, his voice a tender whisper. “Please?”

Alastor hesitated, concern etched across his features. “Are you sure? You don’t have to.”

Lucifer silenced him with a soft kiss. “I want to,” he murmured against Alastor’s lips. 

Alastor’s usual easy smile was absent, replaced by a tightness around his eyes that spoke volumes.

“Alastor?” Lucifer murmured, running his fingers through Alastor’s hair. “Talk to me.”

Alastor’s gaze flickered to meet Lucifer’s, then darted away.

 His hands rested limply at his sides, a far cry from their usual confident exploration of Lucifer’s body. 

“I…I pushed too far,” Alastor finally whispered, his voice barely audible. “I upset you. I never meant to—”

Lucifer silenced him with a gentle kiss.

“You didn’t upset me. You overwhelmed me, yes, but in the best possible way.” He cupped Alastor’s face, thumb tracing the sharp line of his cheekbone. “I’ve never felt so seen. So cherished.”

“You made me feel incredible,” Lucifer assured him, pressing their foreheads together. 

Slowly, hesitantly, Alastor’s hands came to rest on Lucifer’s hips.

 His touch was feather-light, as if afraid Lucifer might shatter beneath his fingers. Lucifer covered Alastor’s hands with his own, pressing them more firmly against his skin.

“I’m here,” Lucifer murmured, rocking his hips slightly. “I’m okay. And I want you, if you still want this.”

Alastor’s breath hitched, his grip on Lucifer’s hips tightening fractionally. “I do,” he whispered. 

Lucifer smiled, reaching between them to guide Alastor’s still-hard cock to his hole. 

As he sank down, taking Alastor deep inside him, he kept his gaze locked on Alastor’s face. He watched as pleasure warred with lingering concern in those hazel eyes.

“That’s it,” Lucifer encouraged, rolling his hips in a slow, sensual rhythm. “Let go, darling. I’ve got you.”

Alastor’s hands roamed Lucifer’s body, tracing the words he’d written earlier. His touch was reverent, almost worshipful. 

Lucifer arched into it, savoring the way Alastor’s fingers danced across his skin.

Slowly, deliberately, Lucifer began to move. He set a languid pace, rolling his hips in a gentle rhythm. His hands roamed Alastor’s chest, tracing the lean muscles there.

“You’re always so good to me,” Lucifer breathed, punctuating each word with a kiss along Alastor’s jaw. “Let go. I’ve got you now.”

Alastor’s breath hitched, his hands gripping Lucifer’s hips. Lucifer could feel the tension in his body, the tight control Alastor always maintained. 

“That’s it,” Lucifer encouraged, capturing Alastor’s mouth in a deep, passionate kiss. He poured everything he felt into that kiss—gratitude, desire, and something dangerously close to love.

Gradually, he felt Alastor relax beneath him. 

The rigid set of his shoulders softened, his breathing grew ragged. 

Lucifer smiled against his lips, relishing the small gasps and moans he elicited.

When Alastor finally came, it was with a quiet, shuddering exhale. 

Lucifer held him close, peppering his face with feather-light kisses.

As they caught their breath, a mischievous glint entered Lucifer’s eye. “So,” he said, tracing a finger along his own neck, “what exactly did you write here?”

Alastor’s laughter, rich and warm, filled the room. 

“Brat,” he said fondly, tapping Lucifer’s nose.

Lucifer couldn’t help but join in the laughter, feeling lighter than he had before they started. By a ton or two. 

☕ On Ao3✨Become my Arc Reader✨On Tumblr ☕

[darcydarlingdabbles]

At Mid Winter ~ Part 1

RadioApple❄️Human Au/Age Gap✨Top!Dom!Alastor

✨Divorced Dad!Lucifer❄️Explicit~ 4.2k

❄️✨☕✨❄️

☕ On Ao3✨Become my Arc Reader✨On Tumblr ☕

On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: A little professor/student rp~

Fluffy snowflakes drifted past the frosted window of the forensic professor’s dimly lit office, creating a mesmerizing dance in the amber glow.

The walls were lined with dusty bookshelves and glass jars filled with strange specimens, casting long shadows that seemed to pulse with life.

Alastor stood by the window, his tall frame blocking out most of the light as he turned to face Lucifer. His hand rested warmly and confidently at the small of Lucifer's back, their closeness adding a sense of comfort in the otherwise eerie atmosphere.

Lucifer's nose was filled with the scent of old books and leather mingling with the faint aroma of Alastor's cinnamon cologne.

His eyes darted nervously around the room, taking in the towering bookshelves and the imposing mahogany desk that dominated the space.

“Well, Professor Morningstar," Alastor purred, his breath ghosting Lucifer's ear and making him shiver. “Shall we begin our little…extracurricular activity?”

Lucifer's pulse jumped.

Alastor's hazel eyes gleamed with mischief and promise. It was unfair, really, how good the windswept brunette looked.

Cheeks sort of flushed, hair perfectly disarrayed, and a few snowflakes still clinging to his round wire-rim glasses.

"I…I'm not sure about this, Alastor," Lucifer stammered, desire warring with nerves in his chest. "Aren't professors usually the ones in control?"

"Color, darling?" Alastor asked, stroking Lucifer's hip.

"Green. I'm green. Just…this is new for me."

Alastor's lips curved. "I know. That's what makes it exciting. Trust me?"

"Always." Lucifer searched Alastor's face—so confident, so in command. Slowly, he nodded. "Okay. I'll try."

The younger man had done so much for him, made him feel things he never dreamed he could. The least Lucifer could do was indulge Alastor's fantasies.

"Good boy," Alastor praised, making Lucifer's knees go weak. "That's all I ask," Alastor said, his voice dropping to a seductive purr. "Now, Professor, about those grades of mine…"

The blonde may not know how to play a professor, but he knew exactly how to submit to Alastor's desires.

And in that moment, nothing else mattered.

He squared his shoulders, meeting Alastor's heated gaze. "Now, what was it you wanted to discuss about your performance, Mr. Le Blanc?"

Alastor's smile sharpened. He stepped closer, crowding Lucifer back against the professor's desk. "Oh, I think you know…sir."

Lucifer swallowed hard, his heart pounding as Alastor invaded his space. The younger man's presence was overwhelming as ever, his gaze intense and unwavering.

He thought, after a few weeks, he’d get over it. That the effect Alastor had on him would dull over time—but it was only magnified every time his lover looked at him.

Lucifer fought the urge to lower his eyes, to submit. He was supposed to be in charge here.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean," Lucifer straightened his posture, trying to embody the role of the bookish professor. He cleared his throat, adjusting his sweater nervously. “Your grades are exemplary. There's no reason for you to be here outside of office hours.”

Alastor's eyes glinted with mischief as he took a step closer, invading Lucifer's personal space.

"Oh, but Professor Morningstar, I think there's plenty to discuss. Surely there's something I can do to…improve my standing?"

Lucifer shivered, his body responding to Alastor's proximity, to the promise in his words.

He placed a hand on Alastor's chest, intending to push him away, but instead his fingers curled into the fabric of Alastor's shirt.

"Mr. LeBlanc, this is highly inappropriate," Lucifer protested weakly. "I'm your professor. We can't—This conversation is inappropriate."

Despite everything in his body that screamed to give in, he ducked around the younger man looming over him.

He crossed the office, grabbing for the door handle, pretending to open it.

“In fact, I’m going to have to ask you to leave—”

In a swift motion, Alastor pressed his hand against the door, effectively trapping Lucifer between his body and the wooden surface.

Lucifer's breath hitched; all doubt that Alastor wouldn’t be taking lead in this scene evaporated right out of his mind.

"What if I offered you something in exchange?" Alastor purred, his face mere inches from the older man’s. "Something…mutually beneficial?"

Lucifer knew he should protest, maintain the facade of the stern professor, but Alastor's proximity was intoxicating.

"You're far too intelligent for such tactics, Mr. LeBlanc," he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper.

A slow, predatory grin spread across Alastor's face.

"Why, thank you, Professor. But perhaps I haven't made my intentions clear." He leaned in closer, his breath hot against Lucifer's ear. "It's not just about the grades. It's about you…Professor Morningstar."

Lucifer was supposed to be resisting. He knew that. He should be telling the audacious student off.

But every time Alastor leaned over him like this, caged him in, he wanted to melt into a puddle.

The blonde tried to maintain his composure, to stay in character.

"Mr. LeBlanc," he began, his voice wavering slightly, "This behavior is entirely unacceptable."

Despite his words, Lucifer made no move to push Alastor away. His body betrayed him, leaning ever so slightly into the warmth radiating from his lover.

Alastor's eyes sparkled with amusement, clearly seeing through Lucifer's weak attempt at resistance.

"Is it, Professor?" he murmured, one hand coming up to trace the line of Lucifer's jaw. "Because I think you’ll be very interested in what I have to offer."

Lucifer's gaze darted around the room, taking in the shadowy corners and the bizarre jars lining the shelves.

The soft patter of snow against the window seemed to echo his racing pulse. He swallowed hard, trying to find his voice.

"I…I don't know what you mean," he stammered.

Alastor leaned in closer, his lips barely brushing against Lucifer's ear. "I've seen the way you look at me during lectures, Professor. The way your eyes linger when you think no one's watching."

Lucifer's resolve was crumbling rapidly.

He could feel the heat of Alastor's body, the strength in his arms as they caged him against the door. The room seemed to shrink around them, the air growing thick with tension.

"Alastor," Lucifer breathed, forgetting the pretense for a moment. "We shouldn't…"

"But we want to," Alastor finished for him, his voice low and husky. "Don't we, Professor?"

Lucifer's eyes fluttered open, meeting Alastor's intense gaze.

In that moment, all pretense fell away. The role of the reluctant academic dissolved, leaving only raw desire in its wake.

With a soft groan of surrender, Lucifer nodded almost imperceptibly.

That was all the invitation Alastor needed. In one fluid motion, he closed the minuscule distance between them, capturing Lucifer's lips in a searing kiss.

Stealing the breath from his lungs.

Lucifer melted into the kiss, his hands fisting in Alastor's shirt as he pulled the younger man closer.

Alastor's thigh slotted between Lucifer's legs, pressing against his growing arousal, and Lucifer couldn't suppress the moan that escaped him.

"My, my, Professor," Alastor purred, his lips brushing against Lucifer's ear. "You're already so hard for me. I wonder…" His hand drifted lower, cupping Lucifer through his slacks. "Do you let all your teacher’s pets get on their knees for you?"

Lucifer's eyes widened, a jolt of surprise and desire coursing through him.

“I…no…I, of course not.”

It wasn’t like the younger hadn’t done it before. Hell, the first night he’d touched Lucifer it was to dribble honey down his length and lick him clean. And bite him for the first time.

If Lucifer thought about that night too long, this would be over far too quickly.

But somehow, in this context, it felt different. More intense.

The thought of Alastor kneeling before him, his clever tongue and wicked lips driving Lucifer to the brink…

It was almost too much to bear.

As if sensing Lucifer's thoughts, Alastor's fingers deftly unbuckled the older man’s belt, slipping inside his slacks.

"What are you—" he began, but his words caught in his throat.

Alastor's hand met smooth, cool satin. He paused, a slow, delighted grin spreading across his face.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Alastor's fingers traced the edge of the panties, and embarrassment and desire flooded through him.

He'd almost forgotten Alastor had instructed him to wear them. "I…it's not what you think," he protested weakly.

Alastor's eyes darkened with desire.

"Such a good boy," he murmured, and then, in one swift motion, he spun Lucifer around, bending him over the desk.

Lucifer gasped as Alastor's body pressed against his back, pinning him in place. He felt small, dominated, completely at Alastor's mercy.

And he loved it.

"I'm going to take such good care of you, Professor," Alastor promised, his hand caressing Lucifer's side. "But first, I want to see you in nothing but those pretty panties…"

Lucifer shuddered, his heart pounding in anticipation.

He knew he should protest, should put a stop to this. But with Alastor's hands on him, Alastor's voice in his ear, all he could do was surrender.

"Please," Lucifer breathed, arching back against Alastor.

Alastor chuckled darkly, his fingers hooking into Lucifer's waistband.

"Oh, Professor," he purred, "You have no idea what you're in for."

With a swift tug, Alastor yanked Lucifer's pants down to his ankles, exposing the red satin panties that hugged his curves. Lucifer shivered as the cool air of the office caressed his bare skin, a blush rising to his cheeks.

"My, my," Alastor's voice was rich with amusement. "Aren't these just sinful? I wonder what your students would think if they knew their esteemed professor had such…decadent tastes."

Lucifer's face burned hot enough to rival the sun. He opened his mouth to reply, but the words caught in his throat, leaving him speechless.

Alastor, ever attuned to Lucifer's reactions, seemed to sense his discomfort.

"You look absolutely stunning in red, darling," Alastor's tone softened, running a hand along Lucifer's trembling thigh. "It suits you perfectly. It is beyond alluring."

The praise washed over Lucifer like a soothing balm, easing the edge of his humiliation. Alastor always seemed to know just what to say, how to make Lucifer feel cherished and desired.

"Thank you," Lucifer whispered, his voice barely audible. He let out a shaky breath, melting slightly under Alastor's touch.

Alastor pressed his body against Lucifer's, pinning him to the desk. His hand slipped between them, fingers ghosting over the satin-covered bulge.

Alastor's body pressed closer, his hips aligning with Lucifer's. Lucifer could feel the hard length of Alastor's cock through their clothes.

"Do you feel that, Professor?" Alastor whispered, his breath hot against Lucifer's ear. "Feel how hard you make me? How much I want you?"

Lucifer whimpered, his hips bucking into Alastor's touch. The satin rubbed against his sensitive skin, the friction delicious and maddening all at once.

"Alastor," Lucifer managed, his voice thin and needy. He turned his head slightly, golden eyes meeting Alastor's hazel ones. "Do you…Do you really like them? The panties?"

Alastor growled, his hand tightening around Lucifer's clothed-cock.

"Oh, Lucifer," he breathed, "I more than like them. I adore them. Adore you. I can't keep my hands off you."

As if to prove his point, Alastor's other hand roamed over Lucifer's body, caressing his hip, his thigh, his stomach.

In this moment, nothing else mattered. Not the roles they were playing, not the forbidden nature of their relationship. All that existed was the two of them.

And as Alastor's hand slipped beneath the waistband of the panties, Lucifer knew he would gladly drown in this bliss, again and again and again.

With a deft tug, Alastor pulled the satin panties down Lucifer's legs, letting them pool around his ankles.

With a flourish, Alastor tossed the damp satin onto the desk, directly in Lucifer's line of sight. Lucifer's cheeks burned as he stared at the evidence of his arousal, precome he could feel dribbling down his length still, the red satin a stark contrast against the dark wood of the desk.

Alastor's hands were on him again, bending him forward until his chest pressed against the cool surface.

Lucifer shivered, his skin prickling with anticipation. He could feel Alastor's presence behind him, solid and commanding, and it made his heart race.

Alastor's hand trailed down, fingers brushing against something firm. "Well, well," he chuckled. "What do we have here? It seems our esteemed professor came prepared." Lucifer gasped, his hips jerking back instinctively. Alastor chuckled, low and dark, and began to tease the plug, twisting it, pushing it deeper, then pulling it out slightly.

Lucifer's mind went blank, his world narrowing to the exquisite sensations Alastor was creating.

"Alastor, please," Lucifer begged, his voice breaking. "Please, I need you. I need you to fuck me."

Alastor's hand stilled.

"Now, now, Professor," he admonished gently. "Remember your role."

Lucifer whined, frustrated and desperate. He knew what Alastor wanted, knew the game they were playing, but it was so hard to think when all he wanted was to be filled, to be claimed, to be owned.

Taking a shaky breath, Lucifer tried again.

"M-Mr. LeBlanc," he said, attempting to sound authoritative despite his compromised position. "If you fuck me well, I'll ensure you get top marks in my class."

Behind him, Alastor grinned, victorious.

"Well then," he purred, his hands gripping Lucifer's hips possessively. “Professor Morningstar. I believe we have an agreement."

Alastor's deft fingers plucked the plug from Lucifer's entrance, swiftly tucking it into his coat pocket.

Before Lucifer could even register the loss, he felt the blunt head of Alastor's cock pressing against his slick hole.

Alastor leaned forward, his breath hot against Lucifer's ear. "Tell me, Professor," he purred, his voice dripping with seduction, "how would you like it?"

Lucifer's mind spun, struggling to process the question through the haze of arousal. Alastor was holding his hips in a vice grip, keeping Lucifer from rolling back onto the length of his cock.

"What…what do you mean?"

"Allow me to demonstrate," Alastor purred.

He thrust forward, burying himself to the hilt in one swift motion. Lucifer gasped at the sudden fullness, clenching his fists against the mahogony desk.

"I can take you hard and fast," he growled, punctuating his words with a sharp thrust that made Lucifer’s cock weep with need. "Or slow and deep." He drew back, then pressed forward in a slow, deliberate motion that had Lucifer seeing stars.

Both left his body aching for more.

"Hard," he managed to choke out, his voice strained with need. "Please, Alastor, fuck me hard."

Alastor's grip tightened, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of Lucifer's hips.

"As you wish, Professor," he smirked, and with one swift, powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside Lucifer.

The older man cried out, the sudden intrusion sending shockwaves of pleasure through his body.

Alastor set a brutal pace, his hips snapping against Lucifer's ass with each deep, driving thrust. The desk shook beneath them, papers scattering, pens rolling to the floor, but neither of them cared.

Suddenly, Alastor's hand clamped over his mouth. "Shh, we can't have the whole department hearing you, can we?" he teased.

Lucifer froze…he didn’t think he was being too loud. The brunette was always encouraging him to be louder—but they were always alone at Lucifer’s house, or a hotel room near campus.

"I have a better idea."

Alastor reached for the discarded panties, bunching the silky fabric in his fist.

"Open," he commanded, tapping the material against Lucifer's lips.

Lucifer obeyed without hesitation, allowing Alastor to stuff the panties into his mouth, the taste of his own arousal heavy on his tongue.

The makeshift gag muffled his moans and whimpers, adding a new level of submission to their play.

Alastor's hand rested gently on Lucifer's cheek, a tender counterpoint to the rough pounding of his hips.

"If it's too much, just raise your hand, okay?" he murmured, always mindful. "Don't want you getting too loud, now do we? Wouldn't want anyone else to hear what a needy little thing you are for your student's cock."

Lucifer whined around the gag, the words only fueling the fire in his veins. He loved this, loved being used, being filled, being owned by Alastor in every way possible.

He felt utterly exposed, utterly vulnerable, and, perversely, utterly safe.

Lucifer's world narrowed to the sensations overwhelming his body—the hard edge of the desk against his thighs, Alastor's relentless rhythm, and the silky fabric of the panties muffling his moans.

Alastor's confident hands gripped Lucifer's hips, anchoring him as he drove deeper.

"You're doing so well," he purred, his voice a velvet caress. "Such a good professor, taking everything I give you."

The praise set his entire body trembling, dancing on the edge.

Suddenly, Alastor's hands were on Lucifer's leg, lifting one with surprising strength.

The new position drove Alastor even deeper, and Lucifer saw stars.

Alastor leaned down, his breath hot against Lucifer's ear. One hand wrapped gently around Lucifer's throat, not squeezing, just holding.

"I'm going to come inside you," he rasped in Lucifer's ear, "and then I'm going to plug you up again. You'll feel me inside you for the entire car ride, understood?"

The words ignited something primal in Lucifer. With a muffled cry, he came instantly, his body clenching around Alastor as waves of pleasure crashed over him. His orgasm tearing through him, his spend spilling onto the old, stained carpet.

With one last, deep thrust, Alastor growled out his release, his come hot and sticky inside Lucifer's tight hole.

They stayed like that for a long moment, both struggling to catch their breath, their bodies still joined intimately. Alastor's forehead rested against Lucifer's shoulder, his breath hot on Lucifer's skin. Then, with gentle hands, Alastor eased out of him.

"Stay still," Alastor murmured, already knowing what Lucifer wanted to do whenever he pulled out.

The blonde hated feeling empty and aching.

But the sensation was short-lived, as Alastor retrieved the plug from his crinkling pocket and gently eased it back into place, sealing his come inside Lucifer's body.

Lucifer whimpered at the intrusion, oversensitive and overwhelmed

Alastor's deft fingers removed the makeshift gag, tossing the damp panties back onto the desk.

"Color?" he asked softly, cupping Lucifer's face.

"Green," Lucifer whispered, his voice hoarse. "Very, very green."

“Very good.” Alastor was there to soothe him, gathering him into his arms and carrying him to the plush office chair. He peppered Lucifer's face with soft, sweet kisses.

"You were perfect, darling," Alastor murmured, his fingers carding through Lucifer's sweat-damp hair. "So good for me, always so good."

Lucifer melted into the embrace, his heart swelling with affection for this incredible man who could take him apart so completely, then put him back together with such tender care. "You’re amazing," he whispered, nuzzling into the crook of Alastor's neck.

They stayed like that for a while, trading gentle touches and whispered endearments, basking in the afterglow.

But as the minutes ticked by, reality began to seep back in, the weight of their secret bearing down on them once more.

 "We should go soon," Lucifer sighed, reluctantly extracting himself from Alastor's embrace. “Charlie and Vaggie will be waiting for us to help pack up the car."

Alastor nodded, his lips twisted in a bitter smirk.

They cleaned up quickly, straightening their clothes and erasing any evidence of their tryst.

As they prepared to leave the office, Alastor pulled Lucifer in for one last kiss, pouring pure devotion into the press of their lips.

"It’s just a weekend," he said, his forehead resting against Lucifer's, "Just a few days to pretend, nothing’ll change between you and I."

“Of course.” Lucifer smiled, his heart full to bursting.

He stole one final peck before they stepped out into the hallway, ready to face whatever challenges the winter getaway and gala might bring.

❄️✨☕✨❄️

The chilly winter air nipped at their faces as Lucifer and Alastor approached the parking lot, their breaths forming small clouds in front of them. Charlie and Vaggie were already there, bundled up in warm coats and scarves, their cheeks rosy from the cold.

"Dad! Alastor!" Charlie called out, waving enthusiastically. "You made it!"

Lucifer chuckled, his heart swelling with affection for his daughter. "Sorry, sweetie. We just had a few last-minute things to take care of."

“Yeah, I’ll bet you did.” Vaggie murmured under her breath, rolling her dark eyes.

Alastor nodded, his smile wide and charming. "But we're here now, and ready to hit the road. Shall we?"

As they began loading their bags into the cars, Lucifer and Alastor fell into an easy rhythm, working together seamlessly.

Their hands brushed occasionally, sending sparks of electricity through their veins, but they were careful to maintain a friendly distance.

"Hey Dad, why don't you ride with Alastor?" Charlie suggested innocently. "Vaggie and I can take my car. That way we can split the driving and have more room for luggage."

Lucifer hesitated, shooting a quick glance at Alastor.

"Oh, I don't know, sweetie."

"Come on, seriously?” Vaggie snorted, rolling her eyes.

“Vaggie.” Charlie sighed, one hand coming up to her hip.

Alastor's eyes flashed dangerously, his ever-present smile taking on a sharp edge. He stepped towards Vaggie, his tall frame looming over her diminutive one.

For her part, Vaggie just folded her arms, like Alastor didn’t have almost two feet of height on her.

"My dear," he began, his voice silky smooth but laced with steel, "I believe we need to have a little chat about boundaries and respect."

“You want to talk about respect? That’s rich.”

“Yes.”

The air around them seemed to crackle with tension, the falling snowflakes suspended in the moment.

"I've tolerated your snide remarks and pointed glances for quite some time now, but I'm afraid my patience has reached its limit," Alastor continued, his tone never wavering from its polite cadence. "Our relationship—mine and Lucifer's—is private. It's not a topic for your commentary or judgment. Especially in front of others."

Vaggie's eyes widened, her posture stiffening as she met Alastor's gaze.

"If you cannot respect that simple fact," Alastor went on, his smile growing impossibly wider, "then I'm afraid I'll have to reconsider my involvement in this little excursion. I won't subject myself or Lucifer to a weekend of your passive-aggressive behavior."

The parking lot fell silent, save for the soft whisper of wind through bare branches.

Charlie's eyes darted between Alastor and Vaggie, her brow furrowed with concern.

"Alastor," Lucifer began, reaching out to place a hand on the younger man's arm. "There's no need for—"

"No, Lucifer," Alastor interrupted gently, his eyes never leaving Vaggie's face. "There is a need. This has gone on long enough."

Charlie stepped forward, her voice wavering slightly. "Come on, guys. We're all friends here. Can't we just—"

“We aren’t friends.” Vaggie said, short and simple.

“No, we aren’t.” Alastor agreed easily, to both Morningstars’ dismay. “But we care about the same people, in our own way. Don’t we?”

Vaggie’s lips pressed into a hard line, but she nodded.

"It's alright, Charlie," Alastor assured her, his tone softening slightly. "You know well how important boundaries are. And I'm sure Vaggie understands, don't you, dear?"

Vaggie's jaw clenched, her eyes narrowing.

For a moment, it seemed she might argue, but then she let out a long, exasperated sigh.

"Fine," she groaned, throwing her hands up in defeat. "You're both being stupid, if you ask me. But whatever. I'll keep my opinions to myself."

Alastor's smile relaxed, losing its predatory edge. "Wonderful! I'm so glad we could come to an understanding." He clapped his hands together, the sound muffled by his gloves. "Now, shall we get this show on the road?"

As they resumed loading the cars, the tension slowly dissipated, replaced by the excited chatter of travel plans and the promise of a cozy weekend getaway. Oh and the charity gala for the university, that too.

Lucifer caught Alastor's eye, offering a small, grateful smile. Alastor winked in return.

"Great!" Charlie beamed, her smile bright enough to rival the sun. "We'll see you at the first rest stop in about two hours then?"

As Charlie and Vaggie climbed into their car, Alastor opened the passenger door for Lucifer with a flourish. "Your chariot awaits.”

Lucifer slid into the seat, hyper-aware of Alastor's proximity as he closed the door and walked around to the driver's side.

As they pulled out of the parking lot, following Charlie's SUV, Lucifer felt a mix of excitement and trepidation.

The weekend ahead stretched before them like an uncharted wilderness. They would be surrounded by colleagues and students, forced to maintain a professional facade while their hearts yearned for closeness.

The gala itself would be a minefield of potential slip-ups and knowing glances.

Yet as Alastor's hand found his, fingers intertwining on the center console, Lucifer felt a surge of warmth.

Whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together. And perhaps, in stolen moments and hidden corners, they could find ways to keep close.

As they drove into the gathering twilight, the snow fell heavier, blanketing the world in a soft, white silence.

☕ On Ao3✨Become my Arc Reader✨On Tumblr ☕

[darcydarlingdabbles]

At Mid Winter ~ Part 12

RadioApple❄️Human Au/Age Gap✨Top!Dom!Alastor

✨Divorced Dad!Lucifer❄️Explicit~

On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: a happy ending~

❄️✨☕✨❄️

☕ On Ao3✨Become my Arc Reader✨On Tumblr ☕

The last guest's car vanished into the swirling snow, leaving only tire tracks that were rapidly disappearing under a pristine white blanket

Lucifer exhaled slowly, his breath forming a misty cloud in the frigid air as he stood at the lodge's entrance.

He felt like allowing his shoulders to relax for the first time in days. The chaos of the weekend had left him drained, his nerves frayed from the constant social interactions and the weight of his own insecurities.

Whenever he wasn’t with Alastor.

Turning back inside, Lucifer quietly closed the heavy wooden door behind him, shutting out the cold.

The sudden silence was almost palpable, broken only by the soft crackling of the fire in the lodge, and the staff slowly returning the place to normal.The familiar scent of pine mingled with wood smoke, wrapping around him like a comforting embrace.

As he made his way to the lounge, his footsteps muffled by the plush carpet, Lucifer caught sight of his reflection in a wide, snowy window. His blond hair was slightly disheveled, and dark circles shadowed his golden eyes.

A mess, he mentally chided.

The lounge was bathed in a warm, flickering glow from the big stone fireplace. Shadows danced on the walls, creating an intimate atmosphere that seemed to cocoon the room from the outside world.

Lucifer's gaze was drawn to Alastor, who sat in an armchair near the hearth, his lean frame silhouetted against the flames.

"Everyone's gone," Lucifer said softly, his voice carrying a hint of relief. He hesitated before adding, "Everyone from the university. I just saw Charlie and Vaggie off."

Alastor looked up, his hazel eyes catching the firelight behind his round glasses.

A small, knowing smile played at the corners of his mouth. "It’s more than alright to feel a relieved that the event is over."

Lucifer felt a flush creep up his neck, grateful for the dim lighting that hid his embarrassment. As if Alastor didn’t already know him.

"Was it that obvious?" he asked, his tone self-deprecating. "I tried to keep it together…" He trailed off, shrugging helplessly.

"And you did," Alastor replied, his voice a soothing balm to Lucifer's frayed nerves. He patted the arm of his chair, a clear invitation. "Come, sit with me. You look like you could use some quiet company."

Lucifer hesitated for just a moment before crossing the room, drawn to Alastor's peaceful strength like a moth to a flame.

As he settled into the offered space, he felt some of the tension begin to ebb from his body, replaced by a warm sense of security that only Alastor seemed able to provide.

They were in public, yes. But no one they knew was left. Alastor had arranged to take Monday off of classes, and Lucifer was more than grateful.

So Lucifer nestled against Alastor's chest, his head finding its place on the taller man's shoulder.

The steady rhythm of Alastor's heartbeat beneath his ear was a soothing counterpoint to the soft crackle of the fire. He let out a long, slow breath, feeling the last vestiges of his earlier anxiety begin to melt away.

"Better?" Alastor murmured, his breath stirring Lucifer's hair.

"Mm," Lucifer hummed in affirmation, his eyes drifting closed. "I'd forgotten how nice this could be. Just…existing with someone."

Alastor's arm tightened slightly around him. "It's a luxury we often overlook, isn't it?"

Lucifer nodded against Alastor's shoulder.

"After…her, I thought…" He paused, swallowing hard. "I thought I'd never have this again. That I didn't deserve it."

"Lucifer," Alastor's voice was gentle but firm. "You deserve far more than you give yourself credit for."

A small, rueful laugh escaped Lucifer. "You sound so certain."

"Because I am," Alastor replied, his fingers tracing idle patterns on Lucifer's arm. "I've seen the way you care for others, how hard you try. It's admirable."

Lucifer shifted slightly, burrowing deeper into Alastor's embrace as if he could hide from the intensity of his own emotions.

"Thank you," he whispered, the words barely audible over the crackling fire. "For seeing me."

Alastor's hand moved to cup Lucifer's chin, gently tilting his face upward. Their eyes met, hazel melting into gold, and Lucifer felt his breath catch. With deliberate slowness, Alastor leaned in, brushing his lips softly against Lucifer's.

The kiss was unhurried, a tender exploration that spoke volumes in its gentleness. Lucifer felt the last remnants of tension seep from his body, replaced by a warmth that spread from his core to his fingertips.

He smiled against Alastor's mouth, savoring the intimacy of the moment.

As they parted, Lucifer's mind drifted to gifts and ribbons last night. And then the box in his pocket.

"Oh," he murmured, shifting slightly in Alastor's lap. "I almost forgot—I have something for you."

Lucifer reached under his sweater into his pocket, his movements careful to avoid dislodging himself from their comfortable position. His fingers closed around the small object he sought, and he felt a flutter of anticipation in his stomach.

Alastor's brow furrowed slightly. The relaxed set of his shoulders suddenly tensed, a change so subtle that only someone intimately familiar with his body language would notice.

His voice, when he spoke, carried a hint of strain beneath its natural smooth cadence.

"You know I don't like surprises, Lucifer."

The blonde hesitated, his hand still hidden by his sweater sleeve.

“I…I know.” He swallowed. “But uh…trust me?”

Taking a deep breath, Lucifer revealed the small red box, its velvet surface catching the warm glow of the firelight.

Alastor's breath caught audibly.

His eyes, usually so controlled and observant, widened with a fervor Lucifer couldn't quite place.

Was it fear? Panic? The usually unflappable man seemed to be struggling to maintain his composure.

Before Lucifer could speak, Alastor's voice cut through the tension, careful and strained. "Lucifer, we should…talk about things like this first.”

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

Lucifer felt a chill creep over him, despite the warmth of the fire and Alastor's body pressed against his.

"What do you mean?" Lucifer asked, his voice soft and hesitant.

He unconsciously leaned back slightly, creating a small space between them, though they shared the same armchair.

The crackling fire seemed louder now, filling the silence that stretched between his question and the younger’s response.

Alastor's jaw tightened, a muscle twitching beneath his smooth brown skin.

His eyes darted from Lucifer's face to the box and back again, a rare display of uncertainty.

When he spoke, his voice was careful. Each word measured as if he were treading on thin ice.

"If this is what I think it is…I—" Alastor paused, swallowing hard. His fingers curled tightly around the arm of the chair, betraying his inner turmoil.

Lucifer felt his heart rate quicken, a mix of confusion and growing anxiety swirling in his chest.

“You’re…upset? Why, Alastor, there’s nothing to—”

A deep blush crept across Lucifer's cheeks as realization dawned. His eyes widened, and he shook his head vigorously, golden hair falling across his forehead.

"Oh! No, no, it's not—" Lucifer stammered, his usual awkwardness amplified ten fold. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. "Just…will you open it? Please."

He insistently pressed the small red box into Alastor's hand. He bit his lower lip, watching Alastor intently.

Alastor hesitated, his hazel eyes flickering with uncertainty behind his round glasses.

After a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity, he slowly opened the box.

Inside, nestled on a bed of red velvet, lay a sleek black chain bracelet. At its center, a small, intricate key charm glinted in the firelight.

Alastor's fingers hovered over it, not quite touching.

It was beautiful.

But more than that, it dissolved Alastor’s panic. Melted it like snow in the sunshine. He looked up at Lucifer, seeing the vulnerability and hope in those gold-flecked eyes.

"Lucifer," Alastor breathed, his voice low and filled with a different kind of tension now. "This is…"

“It’s, I mean I looked it up.” Lucifer's fingers tangled together in his lap, his shoulders hunching slightly as he leaned forward. “It’s a gift for…for a Dom. Cause, you hold the key. God, that was so much cheesier saying it out loud.”

The soft wool of his cream-colored sweater bunched around his neck, only partially obscuring the fading marks there. But not hiding an ounce of his blush.

His voice, when he spoke, was barely above a whisper.

"Alastor, look, I've done the whole married-young thing before, and I screwed it up." He swallowed hard, his gaze darting between Alastor's face and the bracelet. "I don't want to…rush into something like that again and risk ruining this."

A flash of protective concern crossing Alastor’s features.

He set the box carefully on the side table, freeing his hands to reach for the older man. "Lucifer, you didn't—"

But Lucifer shook his head, cutting off Alastor's gentle protest. He took a shaky breath, steeling himself to continue.

"No, listen. This isn't about the past. It's about you." He took a deep breath, meeting Alastor's gaze with a vulnerability that made Alastor's chest tighten. "You're setting the pace for us. You're in charge, because I trust you. And I know you'll respect what I need."

Alastor felt the weight of Lucifer's words settle over him, a warmth blooming in his chest.

He reached for the bracelet again, running his fingers over the cool metal of the chain and the intricate key charm.

The symbolism wasn't lost on him—Lucifer was offering him the key to his heart, his trust, his very being.

This beautiful man was just as fragile as he was resilient.

"Lucifer," Alastor murmured, his voice rough with emotion. He turned the bracelet over in his hands, marveling at the delicate craftsmanship. "I understand."

Lucifer's eyes searched Alastor's face, a mix of hope and apprehension clear in his expression. "You do?"

Alastor nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I do. And I promise you, I will always honor this trust you've placed in me."

With a deliberate motion, Alastor slipped the bracelet onto his wrist, feeling the cool metal warmed against his skin. He met Lucifer's gaze, his voice soft but steady.

"It's perfect."

Lucifer's eyes widened, relief and joy washing over his features. Alastor felt a surge of affection, marveling at how this man could be simultaneously so defenseless and so bold.

"I…have something for you as well," Alastor said, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. "I thought it might suit you…though it seems rather shallow after your gift."

Alastor reached into the inner pocket. He pulled out a long, thin, velvet-covered box of his own.

Alastor watched Lucifer's face carefully, suddenly aware of how exposed he felt.

This wasn't just a gift—it was a statement, a promise, a tangible representation of the bond they shared. For all his usual confidence, Alastor found himself holding his breath, waiting for Lucifer's reaction.

Lucifer's fingers reached out, brushing over a fine golden chain. Attached to an O-ring on either side.

His touch lingered on the subtle clasp, tracing its contours with a reverence that made Alastor's breath catch.

A small, deeply genuine smile spread across Lucifer's face, his golden eyes shimmering with emotion.

Lucifer's fingers trembled slightly as he lifted the delicate chain from its velvet nest.

The gold caught the firelight, sending sparkles of reflections dancing across his face. He held it reverently, as if it might disappear if he gripped it too tightly.

"Alastor," he breathed, his voice thick with emotion. "It's beautiful. I've never…I mean, no one's ever given me jewelry before."

Alastor's eyes softened, a tender smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He reached out, gently taking the chain from Lucifer's hands.

"It's more than just jewelry, my dear," he explained, his voice low and intimate. "In my world, we call this a day collar. It's something a submissive can wear subtly, a constant reminder of their connection to their Dominant."

Lucifer's eyes widened as understanding dawned. The chain suddenly felt heavier in his hands, weighted with meaning.

He ran his thumb over the O-ring, marveling.

"Would you…?"

Alastor nodded, understanding the unspoken request.

He gently took the collar from the box, his movements slow and deliberate as he brought it to Lucifer's neck. The intimacy of the moment wasn't lost on him—this was more than just putting on a piece of jewelry.

As he fastened the clasp, Alastor's fingers brushed against the soft skin of Lucifer's neck, eliciting a small shiver from the other man.

The collar settled into place, looking as though it had always belonged there.

"So…is there a night collar, maybe?" Lucifer asked, his voice barely above a whisper. A blush crept up his neck, coloring his cheeks a delightful shade of pink.

Alastor chuckled, the sound rich and warm. "Yes, there is," he confirmed, his eyes twinkling with amusement and a hint of desire. "But I didn't think it appropriate to give you that here in the corner of a public lodge."

Lucifer's blush deepened, but a small, excited smile played at his lips.

"Oh," he murmured, his imagination clearly running wild.

Lucifer nodded, tilting his head to allow Alastor better access.

Alastor settled the ring right at the crux of Lucifer’s collarbones, fitted perfectly to the hollow of his throat.

"There," Alastor said, his voice filled with satisfaction and a hint of possessiveness. "Perfect."

Lucifer's hand came up to touch the chain, feeling its weight settle against his sweeater.

It was light enough to be comfortable, but present enough to be a constant reminder. He looked up at Alastor, his eyes shining.

"Thank you," he whispered, leaning in to press a soft kiss to Alastor's lips. "I'll cherish it always."

Alastor pulled him closer, deepening the kiss for a moment before breaking away. "As I'll cherish you, my love," he murmured against Lucifer's lips. "Always."

Lucifer was ready to pull Alastor back to their room, but it seemed the brunette wasn’t done.

"It's not just about what you give to me," Alastor murmured, his voice low and full of emotion. He met Lucifer's eyes, allowing his usual mask of confidence to slip, showing the depth of his feelings. "It's about what we give to each other."

“Yeah…it is.” Lucifer's hand came up to touch the collar, his expression one of wonder and contentment.

Alastor cupped Lucifer's cheek, his thumb gently stroking along the jawline.

Lucifer leaned into Alastor's touch.

Without a word, he gently pulled Alastor closer, wrapping his arms around him in a tender embrace. Alastor reciprocated, his long fingers splaying across Lucifer's back, holding him securely.

The quiet weight of the moment settled over them, as heavy and soft as the snow blanketing the world outside.

Though neither spoke of marriage or forever, the gravity of their exchange hung in the air—a silent reaffirmation of their commitment to one another.

Lucifer's voice was barely above a whisper when he finally spoke. "I never thought I'd find this again."

“Well, you did.” Alastor's grip tightened slightly, protective. "Don’t think you can get rid of me now."

They remained like that for a long moment, savoring the closeness.

Eventually, Alastor shifted, guiding them both back into the armchair. Lucifer settled against his chest, his head tucked under Alastor's chin.

The fire popped, sending a shower of sparks up the chimney.

Slowly, deliberately, he leaned in. Alastor met him halfway, their lips meeting in a kiss that was achingly tender.

It wasn't filled with passion or urgency, but with a quiet understanding, a promise of devotion that needed no words.

Outside, the snow continued to fall, muffling the world in a blanket of white.

But here, in this cocoon of warmth and affection, Lucifer felt truly at peace.

☕ On Ao3✨Become my Arc Reader✨On Tumblr ☕

[darcydarlingdabbles]

At Mid Winter ~ Part 10

RadioApple❄️Human Au/Age Gap✨Top!Dom!Alastor

✨Divorced Dad!Lucifer❄️Explicit~

On the Tenth day of Christmas my true love gave to me: the skies like starlit seas.

❄️✨☕✨❄️

☕ On Ao3✨Become my Arc Reader✨On Tumblr ☕

The transition was jarring. 

The biting cold air hit them like a wall, crisp and sharp. Lucifer gasped involuntarily, the icy wind searing his lungs and cutting through the fog of panic that had enveloped him. 

The din of the gala faded abruptly, replaced by the soft whisper of wind and the distant crunch of snow.

“That’s it,” Alastor encouraged softly, his breath forming small clouds in the frigid air. “Just breathe, my dear.”

The rooftop stretched before them, a pristine blanket of snow glittering under the inky night sky. 

Lucifer’s eyes swept across the landscape, drinking in the stark beauty of the winter scene. The distant mountains loomed like silent sentinels, their peaks barely visible against the star-studded horizon.

Lucifer took a shaky breath, his hands trembling as he gripped the icy railing at the edge of the roof.

“I…I couldn’t get any air in there,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Alastor moved closer, his warmth a stark contrast to the frigid air as he leaned his chest against the older man’s back.

“You’re safe now, Lucifer. She can’t reach you here.”

The muffled sounds of the gala drifted up from below, a faint reminder of the world they’d left behind. 

Lucifer closed his eyes, focusing on the crisp air filling his lungs. But the shame came creeping in with every inhale.

“I used to be better,” Lucifer murmured, more to himself than to Alastor. He opened his eyes, gazing out at the snow-covered landscape. “I used to be…so much more …than this.”

Alastor’s hand found Lucifer’s, his fingers intertwining on the metal railing. “You are more, Lucifer. Don’t let her poison seep back in.”

Lucifer turned to face Alastor, torment etched across his features. “But what if she’s right? What if I’ve changed too much? What if I’m not—”

“Stop,” Alastor interrupted gently, cupping Lucifer’s face with his free hand, not leaving an inch between their bodies.

"I'm sorry," Lucifer whispered, humiliation coloring his words. "I shouldn't have let her get to me like that."

Alastor's hand moved to Lucifer's back, a warm, reassuring weight. "You have nothing to apologize for," he said firmly.

Lucifer opened his eyes, watching his breath form misty clouds in the frigid air.

The vastness of the star-studded sky above made him feel small, insignificant. But Alastor's presence in front of him was a tether, keeping him from drifting away entirely.

"I feel so…exposed," Lucifer admitted, his voice barely audible above the whisper of falling snow. "Like she saw right through every defense I've built."

Alastor was quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on the distant mountains as he let Lucifer bury his head in his black satin shirt.

When he spoke, his words were measured, careful. "Lilith has a talent for finding weaknesses…I could see it in her as easy as I use it myself.”

Lucifer clutched at the jacket over his shoulders, just now realizing that it was Alastor had draped it over him. And the younger looked stunning still.

Alastor grabbed him by the shoulders again, making him look up.

“But remember, Lucifer—your vulnerabilities are just one part of who you are.”

The older man took a deep, shuddering breath, feeling the icy air fill his lungs.

Slowly, gradually, the frantic pounding of his heart began to ease.

Alastor's hands remained steady on Lucifer, a grounding presence amidst the swirling snow and Lucifer's tumultuous emotions.

The warmth of his palm snuck under Alastor’s jacket and Lucifer’s underneath it, a stark contrast to the biting cold surrounding them.

“I can feel you trembling.” Alastor murmured, his voice low and soft, barely audible above the muffled sounds of the gala below. "Breathe with me, Lucifer,"

Lucifer closed his eyes, focusing on the rhythm of Alastor's breathing against him. He tried to match it, inhaling deeply through his nose and exhaling slowly through his mouth.

The cold air burned in his lungs, but there was something cleansing about it, as if it were washing away the suffocating panic that had gripped him earlier.

He was supposed to be stronger than this, more composed. And yet here he was, falling apart on a rooftop, relying on Alastor to keep him together. A man half his age.

"That's it," Alastor encouraged softly, his thumb tracing small circles on Lucifer's back. "You're doing well."

Lucifer opened his eyes, meeting Alastor's steady gaze.

In those dark eyes, he saw no judgment, only concern and something deeper, something that made his heart skip a beat despite the lingering anxiety.

"I'm sorry," Lucifer whispered, his voice hoarse. "I don't usually…I mean, I'm not…"

Alastor shook his head, cutting off Lucifer's stammered apology. "You have nothing to be sorry for. We all have our moments of vulnerability, Lucifer. Even me."

Lucifer nodded, his breath visible in small puffs as he exhaled.

His breathing had steadied, but a fine tremor still ran through his hands. He pulled his hands from the icy railing, trying to still the quivering as he gripped to Alastor’s shirt.

He’d have to buy the brunette an entirely new suit. And that would be a herculean effort—the younger gave no protest to Lucifer buying his own clothes, toys, and other things. But getting gifts for Alastor was like pulling teeth.

Lucifer’s gaze drifted past Alastor, focusing on the swirling snow beyond.

The flakes danced in the moonlight, hypnotic and soothing.

"It's beautiful," Lucifer murmured, his voice distant. He wasn't entirely sure if he meant the snow or the man before him. Perhaps both.

Alastor shifted, changing places with the older man. He leaned back against the railing, pulling the blonde into his chest, his proximity a comforting barrier between Lucifer and the rest of the world.

Alastor linked his arms around Lucifer, tucking him under the brunette’s chin, and Lucifer felt a warmth bloom in his chest, pushing back against the chill of the night.

"How are you feeling now?" Alastor asked, his voice low and intimate in the quiet of the rooftop.

Lucifer considered the question, taking stock of his emotions.

"Better," he admitted. "Still shaken, but…grounded. Thank you, Alastor."

A small smile played at the corners of Alastor's mouth. "Always," he replied simply.

Alastor's expression grew serious, his eyes searching Lucifer's face. "Whatever she said," he began, his tone firm but gentle, "you don't have to carry it. You're more than her words, Lucifer. You're…more than even you realize."

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

Lucifer felt a lump form in his throat, emotion threatening to overwhelm him once more. He wanted to believe Alastor, to see himself through the other man's eyes. But Lilith's cutting remarks still echoed in his mind, sharp and unforgiving.

Lucifer shook his head, his golden hair catching the moonlight.

When he spoke, his voice trembled, barely above a whisper. "She's right, though. I'm…I'm a mess."

The admission felt like a weight lifting from his chest, even as shame burned through him. He couldn't meet Alastor's gaze, instead focusing on the intricate patterns of frost forming on the railing behind the younger.

What must Alastor think of him now?

To see him so thoroughly undone by a few cruel words, reduced to this shivering, insecure shell of himself. He half-expected Alastor to agree. To finally see him for the fraud he was underneath.

Alastor tilted his head, the movement catching Lucifer's attention.

Their eyes met, and Lucifer found himself unable to look away from the intensity in Alastor's gaze.

"I’ve never asked you to be perfect, just to be mine.”

When Alastor spoke, his voice was soft, but it carried a quiet strength that seemed to cut through the chill of the night air.

“And I'll remind you of that, as many times as you need to hear it."

The words hung between them, simple yet profound. He searched Alastor's face for any hint of mockery or pity, but found only unwavering certainty.

The concept was almost too much to comprehend in his current state.

"I…" Lucifer began, then faltered, unsure how to respond.

His fingers tightened on the railing, anchoring himself against the swirl of emotions threatening to overwhelm him once more.

The weight of Lilith's cutting remarks still pressed heavily on his shoulders, but as he held Alastor's steady gaze, he felt something shift within him.

A tiny spark of warmth ignited in his chest, fragile but undeniably present.

"You really mean that, don't you?" Lucifer finally managed, his voice barely above a whisper.

Alastor's lips curved into a soft smile, devoid of his usual sharp edges. "Every word, my dear."

The sincerity in Alastor's tone washed over Lucifer like a soothing balm.

He exhaled slowly, feeling some of the tension in his body release. Lilith's words still echoed in the back of his mind, but they seemed less potent now, as if Alastor's presence was acting as a buffer against their sting.

Just then, the faint strains of music from the gala below drifted up to the rooftop.

A soft waltz filtered through the cold night air, its gentle melody a stark contrast to the turmoil of emotions Lucifer had been grappling with moments before.

"Listen," Alastor murmured, his head tilting slightly as he caught the tune. "Quite lovely, isn't it?"

Lucifer nodded, allowing the music to wash over him.

It was as if the melody was weaving itself around them, creating a cocoon that separated them from the rest of the world.

In that moment, with Alastor's steadying presence beside him and the music swirling through the air, Lucifer felt…safe.

Like he'd found an anchor in the storm.

Alastor straightened suddenly, his posture shifting from comforting to purposeful.

He extended a hand towards Lucifer, a playful glint in his eyes.

"Dance with me," he said, his voice an invitation and gentle command.

Lucifer blinked. His mind, still raw from the earlier confrontation, struggled to process the abrupt change.

"Here? Now?" he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

He glanced around the empty rooftop, suddenly acutely aware of their solitude. His breath misted in the frigid air, a visible reminder of the biting cold surrounding them.

There was something undeniably romantic about the idea, even if it was entirely impractical.

"I…I'm not sure I'm in the right state for dancing," Lucifer admitted, his voice quieter now. He could feel the tremor in his hands, a lingering effect of his earlier panic.

The thought of trying to coordinate his feet when he could barely trust his own balance seemed daunting.

Alastor's smile softened, his eyes warm with understanding.

` "Why not?" his voice a gentle caress against the night air. "No one's here but us."

His hand remained extended, an invitation and a promise wrapped in one simple gesture.

Lucifer felt his hesitation wavering.

There was something in Alastor's expression, a patience and affection, that made the cold night seem a little less dispiriting.

He hesitated, but another part, the part that craved connection and comfort, whispered…maybe this was exactly what he needed.

With a small nod, Lucifer reached out, his hand quivering as it met Alastor's.

The warmth of the contact sent a shiver through him that had nothing to do with the cold. Alastor's other hand settled at Lucifer's waist, the touch light but grounding.

"I don't know if I remember how to do this," Lucifer murmured, his voice barely audible above the faint strains of music drifting up from below.

"Just follow my lead," Alastor guided him gently into the rhythm, his movements fluid and assured. "Like you do so well."

Lucifer couldn’t help it. He chuckled at that.

As they began to sway, Lucifer found himself relaxing incrementally into Alastor's embrace.

The world around them seemed to fade, leaving only the soft crunch of snow beneath their feet and the distant melody guiding their steps.

Lucifer's feet tangled, and he stumbled, nearly losing his balance. A flush of embarrassment crept up his neck as he steadied himself against Alastor's chest.

"I'm rusty," he muttered, averting his gaze. His fingers tightened on Alastor's shoulder.

But Alastor's grip remained steady, his expression softening.

"Then let me teach you," he said, his voice a soothing balm laced with both patience and warmth.

There was no judgment in Alastor's eyes, only gentle encouragement. Lucifer swallowed hard, fighting the instinct to pull away.

"I don't know if I can," the blonde whispered, vulnerability seeping into his words.

Alastor's hand at his waist tightened slightly, reassuring. "You can," he murmured. "Trust me, Lucifer. You can."

Lucifer inhaled deeply, forcing his tense muscles to relax. He surrendered to Alastor's lead, allowing himself to be guided across the snow-dusted rooftop.

With each step, the rhythm of the distant waltz seeped into his bones, his body remembering long-forgotten movements.

"That's it," Alastor murmured, his smile widening as Lucifer fell into sync with him. "You're a natural, my dear."

The biting cold nipped at Lucifer's exposed skin, but the warmth radiating from Alastor's body kept the chill at bay. Their closeness created a bubble of heat, a stark contrast to the frigid air swirling around them.

Alastor's movements were fluid and confident, each turn executed with graceful precision. Lucifer found himself mirroring that assurance, his initial awkwardness melting away like snow in sunlight.

"I'd forgotten how this felt," Lucifer admitted softly, a ghost of a smile playing at his lips.

Alastor's eyes sparkled with something akin to pride. "Dancing?"

"Yeah, that," Lucifer replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

The world around them seemed to fade into a soft blur of starlight and gently falling snow.

The muffled strains of music from the gala below became their own private symphony, guiding their steps across the rooftop.

Lucifer's earlier anxiety melted away, replaced by a profound sense of peace in the silent night.

Alastor's steady presence anchored him, keeping the intrusive thoughts of Lilith and the gala at bay.

For a precious moment, Lucifer allowed himself to exist solely in this bubble.

As the last notes of the waltz faded into the night air, their movements slowed. Lucifer found himself reluctant to let go, savoring the closeness for a heartbeat longer.

But as they stilled, the biting cold of the night rushed back in, causing him to shiver involuntarily.

Lucifer pulled Alastor's jacket tighter around his shoulders.

"We should go back in," he said, his breath visible in the frigid air.

Alastor shook his head slightly, his eyes never leaving Lucifer's face. "Actually, let’s not," he said softly. "Let's walk around the lodge. We'll stay outside—it's quieter, and no one will see us."

Lucifer hesitated, torn between the sanctuary of isolation and the growing chill seeping into his bones.

The thought of returning to the gala, of facing Lilith's cutting gaze, or the curious stares of the other guests, made his stomach churn.

But…

"I…" Lucifer began, his voice catching. He swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. "What if someone notices we're gone?"

Alastor's hand found Lucifer's, giving it a gentle squeeze. "They won't," he assured him. "And even if they did, does it matter? You're allowed to take a breather, Lucifer."

Years of carefully cultivated public persona warred with the older man’s desperate need for respite. He took a deep breath, the cold air stinging his lungs.

"Okay," he finally agreed, his voice barely above a whisper. "A walk sounds nice."

As they moved towards the roof access door, Lucifer found himself unconsciously stepping closer to Alastor, seeking both his warmth and his steadying presence.

The thought of separating, even for a moment, sent a spike of irrational panic through him.

Don’t ever leave.

He couldn’t say it. The words stuck in his throat.

Instead, he tightened his grip on Alastor's hand, hoping the gesture conveyed what he couldn't bring himself to voice aloud.

Their footsteps crunched softly in the freshly fallen snow as they circled the perimeter of the lodge. Alastor's hand rested lightly on Lucifer's back, a constant, reassuring presence guiding him through the darkness.

"The stars are quite clear tonight," Alastor murmured, his breath visible in the frigid air.

Lucifer glanced upward, the vast expanse of the night sky momentarily stealing his breath. "They are," he agreed, his voice hushed.

The glow from the lodge's windows spilled onto the snow, creating a patchwork of warm light and deep shadow.

As they walked farther from the entrance, the cold seemed to intensify, biting at Lucifer's exposed skin.

He shivered, pulling Alastor's jacket tighter around himself. "It's getting colder," Lucifer observed, trying to keep his teeth from chattering. “Wait, aren’t you cold?”

“I know what I can handle.” Alastor's hand moved from Lucifer's back to his shoulder, pulling him closer. "But we can go back in, and warm up by the fire in our room.” he offered.

“Yeah, okay.”

They continued in companionable silence, the muffled sounds of the gala growing fainter with each step. Lucifer found himself leaning into Alastor's warmth, grateful for the anchor he provided.

❄️✨☕✨❄️

As they approached the lodge's side entrance, Alastor guided Lucifer with a gentle hand at the small of his back.

The warmth of the interior hit them like a wave, thawing their frozen extremities. Lucifer's teeth chattered as his body adjusted to the sudden change in temperature.

"This way," Alastor murmured, leading them towards a discreet service elevator. He pressed the button for the top floor, where their suite awaited.

The elevator ascended silently, and Lucifer found himself leaning heavily against Alastor, exhaustion from the emotional turmoil finally catching up with him.

Alastor's arm wrapped around his waist, supporting him without comment.

When they reached their floor, Alastor produced the key card from his pocket with practiced ease.

The door to their suite swung open, revealing the spacious living area dominated by a large stone fireplace.

Embers still glowed in the grate, casting a warm, flickering light across the room.

"Let's get you warmed up," Alastor said softly, guiding Lucifer towards the hearth.

He settled Lucifer in front of the fire on the plush before kneeling to stoke the fire.

Lucifer watched, mesmerized, as Alastor added logs and coaxed the flames back to life. The fire crackled and popped, sending a rush of heat across the room.

And, also, maybe through Lucifer, too. A little guiltily as he watched his partner bending over in front of him.

Alastor often teased him for his sex drive, especially at his age, but how exactly was Lucifer supposed to resist his gorgeous partner in those tight burgundy suit pants.

Alastor disappeared briefly into the closet, returning with an armful of thick, soft blankets. He draped one around Lucifer's shoulders, tucking it carefully around him.

The weight and warmth of the blanket seemed to seep into Lucifer's bones, chasing away the last of the chill.

"There," Alastor murmured, satisfaction evident in his voice. He settled himself on the thick rug in front of the fire, leaning Lucifer back against his chest.

Lucifer's fingers, still cold, found their way to Alastor's hands, curling through his fingers. Alastor leaned into the touch, a contented hum escaping him.

The crackling of the fire filled the comfortable silence between them.

Lucifer found his gaze drawn to the dancing flames, their hypnotic movement soothing his frayed nerves. The warmth from the fire slowly seeped into him, chasing away the last vestiges of cold from their rooftop excursion.

☕ On Ao3✨Become my Arc Reader✨On Tumblr ☕

[darcydarlingdabbles]

At Mid Winter ~ Part 9

RadioApple❄️Human Au/Age Gap✨Top!Dom!Alastor

✨Divorced Dad!Lucifer❄️Explicit~

On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: drama with the family~

❄️✨☕✨❄️

☕ On Ao3✨Become my Arc Reader✨On Tumblr ☕

Lilith Magne stood in the doorway of the ballroom, a vision in red silk that clung to her curves and shimmered in the soft light. Her golden hair cascaded over one shoulder, and her crimson lips were curved in a smile.

Lucifer hoped to God that he was imagining the shift in the atmosphere.

The ballroom seemed to have shifted palpably. The jovial chatter dissolved into hushed whispers and furtive glances.

Lucifer could practically feel the weight of curious eyes darting between him on the edge of the dance floor, and his ex-wife at the doors.

"Lucifer," Alastor's voice was low, a note of concern evident. "Are you alright?"

Lucifer barely registered Alastor's proximity as his gaze remained fixed on Lilith.

His mind raced, grasping for some semblance of control.

Why here? Why now? They hadn’t seen each other in…not even when they signed the papers.

He exhaled sharply, realizing he'd been holding his breath. "Alastor," he whispered, finally turning to face his companion. "I—"

But the words died on his lips as he took in the brunette’s expression.

The younger man's usual easy smile had vanished into a grimace, his eyes narrowed and watchful as they tracked Lilith's progress through the room.

There was something vulturous in his stance, a coiled tension that Lucifer had never seen before.

“Certainly knows how to make an entrance, doesn’t she?”

Lucifer swallowed hard. “Alastor, I swear I had no idea she would—”

"Of course not, darling," Alastor cut him off smoothly, but his eyes never left Lilith. "The question is, what do you want to do now?"

Before Lucifer could respond, a ripple of movement caught his attention.

Lilith was gliding through the crowd, her presence parting the sea of guests like a swarm of minos around a shark. She moved with purpose, her intent unclear but her destination unmistakable—she was heading straight for them.

For him.

Lucifer felt panic rising in his chest. He glanced frantically between Alastor and Lilith, torn between the desire to flee and the need to stand his ground.

The fragile balance of the evening, of his entire life, felt like it was teetering on the edge of shattering.

As Lilith drew nearer, her enigmatic smile never wavering, Lucifer made a split-second decision. "Whatever happens," he whispered, "Say you won’t leave me."

Alastor stared at him. And it might be the first time the blonde ever saw genuine shock on his face. “Why would I—”

“Please. Promise me.”

Alastor still looked befuddle, but he nodded. And that was about all the relief Lucifer had left.

The tension in the air was palpable as Lilith closed the final steps between them, her presence undeniable and overwhelming. 

Alastor tensed as he saw Lilith approaching, her crimson gown swirling around her like a pool of blood. He felt Lucifer stiffen beside him, the other man's breathing becoming shallow and rapid.

"Steady," Alastor murmured, his hand ghosting over Lucifer's lower back. He plastered on his most charming smile as Lilith drew near, though his eyes remained sharp behind his glasses.

He’d never met the woman. He knew she was on the board at the university, but she’d been gone before Alastor even applied. And there weren’t exactly any pictures of her at Lucifer’s home anymore.

Alastor's eyes narrowed as he studied Lilith, taking in every detail with a calculated gaze.

She was, without a doubt, one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen.

Her golden hair shimmered like spun silk, cascading over flawless alabaster skin. Her features were delicate yet striking, with high cheekbones and full lips painted a deep, alluring red.

The way she moved was hypnotic, each step graceful and purposeful.

But Alastor had never been particularly swayed by surface beauty.

He saw the gleam in her eyes, the slight curve of her lips that spoke of ulterior motives.

This was a woman who knew her power and wielded it like a weapon. He could almost see the invisible strings she pulled, the way the crowd parted for her.

As she drew closer, Alastor felt a surge of protective anger.

This was the woman who had shattered Lucifer's confidence, who had left him a broken shell of a man.

Nights he’d spent holding Lucifer while depression tried to claw him, the weeks it took to coax him through scenes and quiet conversations, the months of rebuilding his self-esteem piece by painstaking piece.

Alastor had seen saw the scars she'd left, invisible but deep, in the way Lucifer's hand shook at his side.

The brunette’s smile became a touch more feral, his posture shifting subtly to place himself between Lucifer and Lilith.

Objectively, he could appreciate the artistry of her appearance, the perfect symmetry of her features, the grace with which she moved.

But she was not a siren. She was a shark. Circling its prey, ready to strike at the first sign of weakness.

And Lucifer was not whole enough to fend her off.

Lilith's gaze swept over Alastor dismissively, seeing nothing more than an undergrad in her way, before locking onto her ex-husband.

"Lucifer," she purred, leaning in to air-kiss Lucifer's cheek. "You look…well."

Alastor bristled at the pause, catching the subtle barb. He could feel Lucifer shifting on his feet almost beside him.

He could hear the older man trying to speak, but nothing like words was coming out.

Lilith's piercing gaze finally settled on Alastor, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took in his impeccable suit and confident stance.

"And who might this be?" she asked, her voice dripping with honey-coated venom. "One of your students, Lucifer? How…quaint."

Alastor felt a flare of indignation, barely resisting the urge to scoff at her presumption.

Nothing about him was quaint.

Instead, he smoothed his features into a pleasant mask, mirroring her own practiced charm. "Alastor LeBlanc, Ma’am, " he introduced himself, extending a hand with a flourish. "And actually I am a Forensic Sciences and Performing Arts double major."

Lilith's perfectly manicured eyebrow arched, a flicker of something unreadable passing across her face before her smile widened.

"Oh, how delightful," she cooed, her tone suggesting it was anything but. "Tell me, Mr. LeBlanc, do you find it challenging to keep up with the academic rigors of university life? It appears to be quite taxing."

Her words were a masterclass in subtle condescension, each syllable precisely chosen to belittle and demean.

Alastor recognized the technique—he employed similar tactics himself, though usually in the service of wit rather than cruelty.

He felt a grudging admiration for her skill, even as he bristled at the implied insult.

"On the contrary," Alastor replied smoothly, his smile never wavering. "I find the contrast quite invigorating. Though I must say, nothing quite compares to the art to captivating an audience, wouldn't you agree?"

Lilith's eyes glittered dangerously, clearly recognizing the veiled challenge in Alastor's words.

She opened her mouth to retort, but Lucifer, who had been watching the exchange with growing anxiety, suddenly interjected.

"Lilith, what are you doing here?" he asked, his voice strained. "I thought you were in Europe for the holidays."

Lilith turned her attention back to Lucifer, her smile softening into something almost predatory. "Oh, darling," she purred, reaching out to brush a clawed hand along his velvet blazer with a familiarity that made Alastor's jaw clench. "You know I could never miss the university's Christmas gala. It's tradition, after all."

“Since you’re so big on tradition.” Lucifer said softly.

Lilith smiled. “I might see the charm in old things.”

Her fingers lingered on Lucifer's chest a moment too long, and Alastor saw the other man's Adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard.

Lilith's gaze flicked to Alastor, a triumphant smirk on her lips.

“I know you aren’t a TA…but would you mind, getting us a drink, honey?”

The gall of this woman. Treating him like an assistant, like a server.

Alastor's eyes narrowed, his smile tightening at the corners. He opened his mouth to deliver a scathing retort, but Lucifer's hand on his arm stopped him short.

"Actually," Lucifer said, his voice quiet but firm, "Alastor, would you mind fetching us some drinks? Like the one I had before, perhaps?"

Alastor blinked, taken aback.

He searched Lucifer's face, looking for any sign of distress or coercion. But all he saw was a quiet plea for understanding.

For a moment, Alastor felt a sharp pang in his chest.

Was Lucifer dismissing him? Choosing Lilith's company over his? But as quickly as the thought formed, he pushed it aside.

No, this was something else.

Lucifer needed this moment, needed to face his ex-wife on his own terms.

Alastor's gaze flicked between Lucifer and Lilith, taking in the tension crackling between them like static electricity.

He could practically taste the unfinished business in the air, bitter and charged.

With a slight incline of his head, Alastor acquiesced. "Of course, Professor," he said, inclining his head to them both.

His eyes caught Lucifer’s, and he hoped the man understood that he was stronger than he knew.

As he pulled away, Alastor locked eyes with Lilith, his smile sharp enough to cut glass.

"I'll be back momentarily," he said, his tone deceptively light. "Do try not to miss me too terribly."

“Take your time.” Lucifer murmured.

“Yes, do.” Lilith agreed.

With a flourish, Alastor turned on his heel and made his way towards the bar, weaving through the crowd with practiced ease.

His mind analyzed every nuance of the encounter, every subtle shift in Lucifer's demeanor.

❄️✨☕✨❄️

Lucifer's throat tightened as he watched Alastor's retreating form, a faint nod the only acknowledgment he could muster. The warmth of Alastor's touch lingered on his arm, a stark contrast to the chill that settled in his chest as he turned to face Lilith.

"It's good to see you, Lili," he managed, his voice barely above a whisper. He cleared his throat, attempting to regain some composure. "You look stunning, as always."

Lilith's lips curved into a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Oh, you flatter me, Luci. But tell me, how have you been? It feels like ages since we've had a proper chat."

Lucifer's hands found the edge of the table, gripping it tightly as he forced a smile. "I've been well, thank you. Busy. You know."

"Not at the university." Lilith’s tone was light, but probing. "I heard you were on a sabbatical for your health…nothing too serious, I hope?"

"Nothing I can't handle." Lucifer lied.

"Of course," Lilith said, her eyes bright on his, never leaving his. "And what about this lovely gala? I must say, I was surprised to see your name on the guest list. You've never been one for these social affairs."

Lucifer's stomach churned. He could feel the conversation shifting, circling something dangerous.

"Well, sometimes it's good to step out of one's comfort zone," he said, fighting to keep his voice steady.

As Lilith continued to prod, her words veiled in polite small talk, Lucifer's mind drifted to Alastor. He longed for the other man's steadying presence, the quiet strength that seemed to radiate from him.

But he knew he had to face this alone. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever Lilith had in store.

Lilith's smile suddenly sharpened, her eyes glinting with a predatory gleam.

She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. And Lucifer was more than glad for the tall table between them.

"I've heard some interesting things, you know. Rumors about you having a…fling?"

The words hit Lucifer like a bucket of ice water.

His cheeks flushed instantly. His hands, resting on the edge of the tall table, tightened involuntarily, knuckles turning white with the pressure.

She had no right to pry into his personal life. Not after everything.

The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken tension. Lucifer could feel Lilith's eyes on him, waiting, probing. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the rapid beating of his heart.

"I am seeing someone," Lucifer finally said, his voice low but firm. He met Lilith's gaze directly, refusing to be cowed. "And it's not a fling."

As the words left his mouth, Lucifer felt a strange mix of fear and relief.

He'd never openly acknowledged his relationship with Alastor before, certainly not to Lilith. But now that he had, he felt a surge of pride alongside his anxiety.

Whatever Lilith's game was, he wouldn't let her diminish what he and Alastor shared.

Lilith's perfectly shaped eyebrows arched upwards, a flicker of genuine surprise crossing her face.

She leaned in closer. Her perfume—a heady mix of pomegranate and something darker—wafting across the space between them.

Her red lips curled into a sultry smile, and when she spoke, her voice dropped to a low, throaty purr.

"Not a fling?" Lilith's fingers trailed along the edge of the table, inching closer to Lucifer's hand. "You know, Luci, I've been thinking about old times lately. Remember that weekend in Paris?"

Lucifer's jaw clenched, a muscle twitching beneath his skin. His mind raced, memories he'd long tried to bury surging to the surface.

The romantic walks along the Seine, the passion-filled nights in their hotel suite—it all felt like a lifetime ago.

A different Lucifer, a different life.

"Lili, don't," He shook his head, pulling his hand away from her approaching fingers. "That's in the past. We're not those people anymore."

Part of him would always care for Lilith, but he knew now that what they had wasn't healthy.

He had found something real with Alastor, something he wasn't willing to jeopardize for a moment of nostalgia or Lilith's games.

Lilith's eyes narrowed, the warmth in her expression evaporating like mist in sunlight. Her posture stiffened, and when she spoke again, her voice had lost its seductive edge, replaced by a biting chill.

"Oh, Luci," she said, her lips curling into a sneer. "You're right about one thing. You're certainly not the man I knew."

Lucifer felt his stomach twist, a sickening dread creeping up his spine. He knew that tone, recognized the merciless glint in Lilith's eyes.

She was shifting tactics, readying her verbal claws.

"You've changed, Lucifer," Lilith continued, her words sharp as glass. "And not for the better. Look at you—fumbling through this crowd like you don't even belong here."

Lucifer's fingers tightened around the edge of the table.

He wanted to protest, to defend himself, but the words stuck in his throat.

Around them, the gala continued, a swirl of laughter and music that felt increasingly distant.

Lilith leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper.

"Honestly, what happened to the man who used to light up a room? You're a shadow of your former self, dear. It's almost…pitiful."

Lucifer struggled to maintain his composure, but he could feel his carefully constructed facade crumbling.

He thought…he’d healed. He’d grown. He’d felt so good these last few weeks.

But as Lilith's cruel words sank in, old insecurities rose to the surface, threatening to drown him in self-doubt.

Lilith's eyes narrowed, her voice dripping with disdain. And he felt powerless to defend himself.

"Do you really think this new…whoever they are, will stick around? For this shell of a man?"

Lucifer's chest tightened, his breath catching in his throat. He wanted to argue, to defend himself and Alastor, but doubt gnawed at him.

Was she right? Had he changed so much that he was unrecognizable?

Unlovable?

"I…I don't…" His gaze dropped to the table, unable to meet Lilith's piercing stare.

❄️✨☕✨❄️

Across the room, Alastor's eyes never left Lucifer. He saw the subtle shift in his lover's posture, the way Lucifer seemed to shrink under Lilith's onslaught.

Then, Lucifer's knuckles rapped twice against the table. The signal they used when Lucifer couldn’t say his safeword.

Alastor didn’t think. He took action.

With a grace that belied his urgency, Alastor weaved through the crowd.

He caught Charlie's eye, gesturing subtly towards her father.

Charlie nodded, understanding immediately. Vaggie, ever-vigilant, noticed the exchange and moved to flank her girlfriend.

As they approached, Alastor whispered to Vaggie, "Let Charlie take the lead."

Vaggie's eyes flashed with anger, but she nodded tightly, recognizing the delicacy of the situation.

Alastor positioned himself just behind Charlie, ready to support but allowing her to intervene.

His heart ached, seeing Lucifer's confident demeanor shattered by Lilith's cruel words.

Just as Lilith opened her mouth to deliver another biting remark, Charlie purposefully bumped right into the table, jostling her parents out of their standoff, her face alight with an infectious smile.

"Mom! Come dance with me!"

Lilith blinked, momentarily thrown off balance by her daughter's sudden appearance.

“Charlie, sweetie, there you are.”

Her gaze darted between Charlie's outstretched hand and Lucifer's hunched form. For a split second, indecision flickered across her face.

"I…" Lilith began, her voice trailing off as she glanced back at Lucifer.

Vaggie positioned herself at Charlie’s side, letting Alastor take the spot closest to Lucifer without drawing undo attention.

Only to have the older man sway towards him on instinct.

Lilith eyes narrowed slightly.

Charlie didn't wait for a verbal response. With a gentle but insistent tug, she grasped Lilith's hand.

"Come on, Mom! The band's playing our song!" she chirped, her tone brooking no argument.

Lucifer sighed as Charlie deftly maneuvered Lilith away from the table.

He caught his daughter's eye for a brief moment, seeing the determined set of her jaw beneath her cheerful exterior.

How did he get such a smart, brave girl?

As Charlie led Lilith towards the center of the dance floor, Lucifer exhaled shakily.

He could feel Alastor's steady presence behind him, a silent pillar of support.

The music swelled around them, momentarily drowning out the echoes of Lilith's cruel words in Lucifer's mind.

Vaggie's eyes flashed with unbridled fury. Her fists clenched at her sides, knuckles white with tension. "That manipulative bi—" she hissed, taking a step forward.

Alastor's hand shot out, gripping Vaggie's shoulder firmly.

"Not here, my dear," he cautioned, his voice low and measured. "A public spectacle would only exacerbate the situation."

Vaggie whirled on him, her eyes blazing. "You expect me to just stand here while she—"

"I expect you to be judicious," Alastor interjected smoothly, his ever-present smile tightening slightly.

He gestured towards the dance floor where Charlie was twirling her mother with exaggerated enthusiasm. "Our Charlie is handling this brilliantly. Let her take center stage."

Vaggie's gaze followed Alastor's her anger momentarily tempered by the sight of her girlfriend's graceful dancing. She exhaled sharply, some of the fight leaving her body.

"Fine," she muttered. "But that’s not exactly helping him.”

"No, it’s not," Alastor agreed, his eyes darting to Lucifer.

The moment Lilith disappeared into the throng of dancers, Lucifer's composure crumbled.

His breath came in short, ragged gasps, each inhale a struggle against the vice grip of panic tightening around his chest.

She was right. His traitorous mind whispered.

He was nothing of what he used to be. He couldn’t command a room. He doubted he could even teach freshmen civics anymore.

His hands gripped the edge of the table, trembling violently. The polished wood beneath his fingers blurred as his vision narrowed, the edges of the ballroom fading to a hazy darkness.

The cacophony of the gala—laughter, music, the clink of glasses—seemed to recede, replaced by the thunderous pounding of his own heart.

He couldn’t breathe. His lungs were burning with the effort to draw air.

“Well, what are exactly are you waiting for?” Vaggie snapped under her breath.

“For the moment.” Alastor’s arms were tensed on the tabletop, barely restrained. “When everyone’s paying more attention to them, than to him.”

The brunette nodded to the dance floor. His teeth clenched.

Charlie and Lilith were whirling around in flashes of emerald green and ruby red. A bubble formed around them as people gave them space for the younger blonde’s exuberant moves.

When Charlie pulled her mother’s hand up to help her spin, every light catching her glittering emerald green suit, and the crowd gasped—Alastor moved.

He grabbed Lucifer by the shoulders, forcing those dazed golden eyes to come up.

"Lucifer, look at me," Alastor murmured, his voice low and commanding. "Breathe. One thing at a time."

The warmth of his touch penetrated through the fabric of Lucifer's suit jacket, grounding him amidst the swirling chaos of his thoughts.

Lucifer struggled to focus on Alastor's face though, his vision swimming.

Alastor's eyes narrowed slightly as he assessed the situation.

The bustling gala suddenly felt oppressive, a gilded cage threatening to suffocate them both. He leaned in closer, his lips nearly brushing Lucifer's ear as he whispered, "Come with me. Let's get some air."

Without waiting for a response, Alastor's hand slid down to Lucifer's elbow, guiding him with gentle but insistent pressure.

Lucifer allowed himself to be led, his feet moving mechanically as Alastor steered them through the crowd. Hazily wondering where they could be going.

As long as they were away from Lilith. That was all that mattered.

Alastor deftly maneuvered them towards a discreet side door, his fingers never leaving Lucifer's arm.

With a twist of the handle, he ushered Lucifer through the doorway and onto the rooftop of the lodge.

☕ On Ao3✨Become my Arc Reader✨On Tumblr ☕

[darcydarlingdabbles]

At Mid Winter ~ Part 7

RadioApple❄️Human Au/Age Gap✨Top!Dom!Alastor

✨Divorced Dad!Lucifer❄️Explicit~

On the seventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: sudden anxiety~

❄️✨☕✨❄️

☕ On Ao3✨Become my Arc Reader✨On Tumblr ☕

Charlie stood on her tiptoes, arms outstretched as she flung another handful of tinsel onto the already glittering Christmas tree.

"Come on, Vaggie! It needs more sparkle!"

Vaggie sighed, plucking a stray strand of tinsel from her girlfriend's blonde hair. "Hon, if we add any more, we won't be able to see the tree underneath."

"That's the point!" Charlie's eyes sparkled with excitement. "It should be a tinsel explosion!"

"Well, it certainly is an explosion," Vaggie muttered, but her lips twitched with amusement.

Charlie gasped in mock offense. "You take that back! There's no such thing as too much sparkle during the holidays."

"I'm pretty sure there is, and we passed it about three pounds of tinsel ago."

Their playful bickering filled the lodge's main ballroom with warmth and laughter.

Lucifer watched from across the room—that he technically wasn’t supposed to be in while the students were working—a fond smile tugging at his lips.

His daughter's enthusiasm was infectious, reminding him of Christmases past when Charlie was just a little girl, insisting on decorating every inch of their home.

"Quite the spirited debate," Alastor's smooth voice came from beside him.

Lucifer chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Oh, I think it's a bit late for debate. Charlie's enthusiasm knows no bounds when it comes to holiday decor."

Alastor's grin widened, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Indeed! But surely there's room for a touch of sophistication amidst the tinsel tornado. Come now, Dr. Morningstar, lend a hand."

"Alastor, please," Lucifer said, his voice low and warm. "You don't have to call me 'Doctor' when we're not in a formal setting."

The brunette's smile didn't falter, but a hint of tightness crept into his posture.

"Unfortunately, we are very much in public." His voice dropped to a whisper, barely audible over the cheerful chaos of decorating students. "Though I think your assistance might still be acceptable"

Lucifer's expression sobered, a flicker of regret passing across his features. "You're right, of course. My apologies."

Alastor clapped his hands together, his usual exuberance returning. "No need for that! Now, how about those decorations."

Hesitating, Lucifer glanced around the room. "I'm not entirely sure I should. It might be seen as…overstepping."

"Nonsense!" Alastor declared, his voice booming with theatrical flair. "Board members can do as they please, within reason, of course. And what could be more reasonable than spreading holiday cheer?"

Before Lucifer could protest further, Alastor's hand closed around his wrist, tugging him towards a stack of folded tables near the edge of the dance floor.

The touch sent a jolt through Lucifer, and he found himself following without resistance.

"These tall boys will be perfect for creating a perimeter," Alastor explained, effortlessly unfolding one of the tables. "We'll set them up around the dance floor, providing a lovely space for refreshments and mingling."

Lucifer found himself caught up in Alastor's enthusiasm, his earlier reservations fading.

Together, they began arranging the tables, their movements falling into an easy rhythm. As they worked, Lucifer couldn't help but notice the graceful efficiency of Alastor's motion, the way his slender fingers deftly adjusted each table's position.

The air between them hummed with an unspoken apprehension, a delicate dance of attraction and restraint.

Every accidental brush of hands or shared glance felt charged with possibility, but both men maintained their careful distance, acutely aware of the students bustling around them.

Then, Alastor set to putting up center pieces.

As they worked side by side, arranging delicate ornaments and adjusting shining garlands, Lucifer felt a sense of peace settle over him.

"I'd forgotten how much I love this," Lucifer murmured, more to himself than to Alastor.

"The decorating?" Alastor asked, his hazel eyes curious behind his round glasses.

Lucifer nodded, carefully tying off a red ribbon. "This feeling. Being together, creating something beautiful…feels like being a family." He stumbled slightly over the word—it was still a raw wound.

Alastor's hand settled on his shoulder, warm and reassuring. "It's a lovely tradition. One worth holding onto, I'd say."

Lucifer looked up, meeting Alastor's gaze. The taller man's usual smirk had softened into something gentler, and Lucifer felt a flutter in his chest that had nothing to do with holiday cheer.

"Thank you," Lucifer said softly, "For…all of this."

"My dear, there's nowhere else I'd rather be."

Alastor's eyes gleamed with mischief as he leaned closer to Lucifer, their bodies hidden behind the massive tree. "Missing only one thing, darling," he purred, his voice low and teasing.

Lucifer's heart skipped a beat. "What's that?" he asked, his own voice barely above a whisper.

"A kiss under the mistletoe," Alastor plucked a little plastic sprig from one of the centerpieces, closing the distance between them ever so slightly.

The ribbon Lucifer had been holding slipped from his suddenly trembling fingers, falling to the floor in a shimmering heap. His cheeks flushed, and he found himself unable to meet Alastor's intense gaze.

"What?" he stammered, searching for words that refused to come, his furtive glances thrown around the room.

Alastor's quiet laughter filled the space between them, rich and warm. "Oh, my dear," he murmured, "you're absolutely adorable when you're flustered."

Lucifer's blush deepened. "You're impossible," he muttered, bending to retrieve the fallen ribbon.

When he straightened up, Alastor made no pretense. His eyes lazily lifting from their focus on Lucifer’s ass.

“So I’ve heard.” The brunette smirked, cocking an eyebrow. Before returning to his festooning.

Lucifer huffed, scrubbing at the warmth in his cheek.

As he snuck the mistletoe back into his pocket.

❄️✨☕✨❄️

As the afternoon slowly gave way to evening, a hush fell over the lodge. The frantic energy of decoration and preparation ebbed, replaced by a gentle, anticipatory calm.

Lucifer found himself by the dark windows in his suite, watching as the first stars appeared in the darkening sky.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" he said softly, sensing Alastor's presence behind him.

"Indeed," Alastor replied, though Lucifer couldn't shake the feeling that the other man wasn't looking at the stars at all.

“Oh, stop it. Go get dressed. ” Lucifer huffed.

“Hmm,” Alastor teased, though his footsteps were retreating towards the bathroom. “I really must break you of the habit of telling me what to do.”

Lucifer gave a vague sound of agreement, but his eyes were in the crackling fire. His hands fiddling with his cufflinks as he stared at the gas fireplace.

The warmth did little to ease the knot of anxiety tightening in his stomach.

"So many people," he muttered, his brow furrowing. "All this…socializing."

He glanced at the ornate clock on the mantle, its ticking seeming to grow louder with each passing second.

Charlie and Alastor would be there, of course, but they'd be occupied with their performances. And Vaggie…well, she was hardly a social butterfly herself.

Lucifer ran a hand through his already disheveled blond hair. "Just gotta, pull myself together," he chided himself. "It's just a gala, for heaven's sake."

But it wasn't just a gala.

It was his first school event since…everything. Since the divorce, since the darkness that had enveloped him for so long. He felt ridiculous, a grown man trembling at the thought of a party, and yet…

The bathroom door opening interrupted his spiraling thoughts.

Lucifer turned as the door swung, revealing a sight that stole his breath away.

Alastor stood in the doorway, resplendent in a burgundy red three-piece suit that hugged his lean frame perfectly. The black lapels provided a striking contrast, matched by an equally dark shirt and bowtie.

A black pocket square completed the ensemble with a flourish of sophistication

"Well," Alastor purred, his voice smooth as silk, "don't you look absolutely dashing this evening."

Lucifer's eyes widened, his nervous fidgeting forgotten as he took in the sight before him.

Alastor's presence filled the room, even more than usual, the deep red of his suit seeming to glow in the firelight. Lucifer's mouth went dry.

"You look…" Lucifer began, fumbling. He swallowed hard, his cheeks warming. "You look incredible," he finally managed, the words coming out in a rush of breath.

Alastor's lips curved into a knowing smirk as he sauntered closer, his hazel eyes twinkling behind his round glasses.

"Why, thank you, my dear," he said, his voice low and rich.

He reached out, long fingers adjusting Lucifer's collar with practiced ease.

"Careful now," Alastor teased, leaning in slightly. The scent of his cologne, spicy and enticing, wafted over Lucifer. "If you keep looking at me like that, someone might start thinking you're smitten."

Lucifer's heart raced, torn between the desire to lean into Alastor's touch and the instinct to step back.

Lucifer's gaze darted away, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink.

"You're impossible," he muttered, fidgeting with the cuff of his sweater. The warmth of Alastor's proximity was intoxicating, making it difficult to think straight.

Alastor chuckled, the sound low and melodious. "Perhaps," he conceded, "but you seem to find it rather charming, don't you?" His fingers lingered at Lucifer's collar, barely grazing the soft skin of his neck.

Lucifer's breath caught in his throat. "I…well…" he stammered, unable to deny the accusation but unable to confirm it.

As Lucifer struggled with his words, Alastor's gaze drifted past him, settling on the spot where he'd seen the velvet box earlier.

It was no longer visible, but the memory of it nagged at the brunette. What could it mean?

A proposal seemed the most likely explanation, but also the least. These last weeks together—well, they’d been amazing. Alastor hadn’t been so happy since he’d lost his mother.

That was the issue, though. It was only weeks. It was too damn soon.

But he knew Lucifer, and he knew a rejection might just break his fragile heart.

"Is everything alright?" the blonde asked, noticing Alastor's momentary distraction.

Alastor's attention snapped back to Lucifer, his trademark smile sliding smoothly back into place.

"Of course, my dear. Just admiring the…view." His words were carefully chosen, revealing nothing of the thoughts swirling beneath the surface.

As Lucifer tugged at the mock neck of his shirt collar, Alastor's mind raced.

The possibility of a proposal hung in the air, unspoken but undeniably present.

Lucifer fussed in front of the mirror as Alastor leaned casually against the bedframe behind him.

His long fingers drummed a silent rhythm on the polished wood. He pushed his round glasses up his nose as he fixed Lucifer with a measured gaze.

"People are rather fond of extravagant romantic gestures over the holidays, aren't they?" Alastor's voice was smooth as silk, betraying none of the curiosity burning beneath his composed exterior.

Lucifer blinked up at him, confusion etching lines across his forehead. The golden flecks in his tired eyes seemed to dance in the warm light of the room. "Extravagant? What do you mean?"

Alastor's lips curled into a smirk, his mind still fixated on the velvet box he'd glimpsed earlier.

He gestured vaguely with one hand, the movement graceful and deliberate. "Oh, you know," he drawled, "the old trope of a Christmas proposal? Ridiculous, isn't it?"

As the words left his mouth, Alastor studied Lucifer's face intently, searching for any hint of recognition or guilt.

His heart raced beneath his carefully tailored suit, but his expression remained neutral, almost bored.

Lucifer's eyes widened, a bright smile spreading across his face like sunshine breaking through clouds.

The subtle prodding had sailed right over his head, replaced by genuine excitement.

"A proposal? Is someone planning to propose?" Lucifer asked, his voice rising with enthusiasm.

Alastor blinked, momentarily taken aback by Lucifer's reaction.

He was trying to avoid a ring, not offer one.

"I was merely speaking hypothetically—" he began, but Lucifer cut him off.

"Wait, is Charlie going to propose to Vaggie?" the older man’s golden eyes sparkled with fatherly pride and anticipation. His earlier nervousness about the gala seemed forgotten, replaced by pure joy.

Alastor's lips twitched, caught between amusement and a twinge of something that felt suspiciously like disappointment.

He watched as Lucifer's mind raced ahead, filling in blanks that weren't there.

"Wait, do you know something?"

“I don’t—”

Lucifer quickly held up a hand. "No, don't tell me—I want it to be a surprise!"

Alastor straightened, smoothing down his burgundy jacket.

"I assure you, I know nothing of the sort," he said, his tone smooth, but his mind still stuck on the box he'd seen earlier. The uncertainty was still itching under his skin.

Alastor watched Lucifer's face, alight with joy and anticipation, and felt a complex mix of emotions wash over him.

The man's unbridled enthusiasm was endearing, his kindness and warmth radiating outward like a beacon. Yet, the lingering question of the velvet box cast a shadow over Alastor's thoughts, a weight he couldn't shake.

Alastor swallowed hard, pushing away the nagging doubt. “Shall we make our way to the gala?" he suggested, gesturing towards the door.

❄️✨☕✨❄️

As they stepped into the hallway, Alastor noticed Lucifer's demeanor shift. The shorter man's shoulders tensed, his steps becoming more hesitant. Lucifer's fingers found their way to his cufflinks, fidgeting nervously.

"Quite the crowd we're expecting, isn't it?" Alastor remarked, his voice low enough for only Lucifer, just to hear his voice.

Lucifer nodded, his earlier enthusiasm dampened. "Yeah, quite," he murmured, his eyes darting around as they passed a group of chattering students.

Alastor found himself wanting to reach out, to offer some form of comfort, but he held back.

They were in public now, and appearances had to be maintained.

Instead, he allowed a small sigh to escape his lips, his own unresolved feelings about the box mingling with concern for Lucifer's evident anxiety.

Alastor came to an abrupt halt just outside the ornate double doors of the gala event space.

The muffled sounds of laughter and music filtered through, a stark contrast to the hushed corridor. He turned, observing Lucifer still fumbling with his cufflinks, fingers trembling slightly.

"Allow me," Alastor said softly, stepping closer.

He gently took Lucifer's wrist, deftly fastening the stubborn cufflink with ease. The quiet intimacy of the moment hung between them, punctuated only by their shared breath.

Lucifer's cheeks flushed a delicate pink. "Thank you," he muttered, averting his gaze.

Alastor smirked, unable to resist a gentle tease. "My, my, Dr. Morningstar. One might think you've never attended a gala before." His voice dropped lower, infused with warmth. "You will be fine. Just a few hours, and you’ll be done."

Lucifer looked up at him, licking over his bottom lip. “Then I can go back to the room.” He asked without asking.

“As soon as Charlie has her spotlight—she is the belle of the ball, after all.” Alastor said tenderly.

Lucifer nodded, actually looking a bit comforted. When his dark eyebrows shot up. “Wait Alastor, aren’t you up after Charlie?”

The brunette glanced around.

Behind them, firelight from wall sconces flickered, casting dancing shadows across the corridor. Through a nearby window, fat snowflakes drifted lazily downward, creating a serene, almost magical backdrop.

“Darling, you know I will perform for you any time you like.” he leaned forward into the space between them. “ Tonight, whatever you can handle is enough.”

Alastor straightened, adjusting his bowtie with his usual flair.

"Shall we?" he asked, gesturing towards the doors with a flourish.

Lucifer nodded, squaring his shoulders.

As Alastor reached for the door handle, his thoughts drifted unbidden to the velvet box hidden away in Lucifer's room.

The unanswered question gnawed at him, a discordant note in an otherwise perfect evening.

Alastor pushed open the heavy oak doors, revealing the winter wonderland beyond.

A blanket of pristine snow stretched before them, sparkling under the warm glow of string lights adorning nearby trees.

Their breath misted in the crisp air as they stepped out onto the snow-dusted path to the ballroom.

"It's beautiful," Lucifer murmured, his earlier nervousness momentarily forgotten.

Alastor hummed in agreement, his gaze fixed not on the scenery, but on Lucifer's profile. "Indeed it is," he said softly.

They walked side by side, their footsteps crunching in the fresh powdery snow. As they neared the gala venue, the sounds of laughter and music grew louder.

Alastor felt a familiar tightness in his chest, knowing that soon they'd have to maintain a professional distance.

"Remember," Alastor said, his voice low and reassuring, "you're more than capable of charming this crowd. Just be yourself."

"Myself? The awkward professor who's been hiding away for years?" Lucifer chuckled nervously.

Alastor stopped, turning to face Lucifer. His hazel eyes blazed with intensity behind his glasses.

"No. The brilliant, kind-hearted man who's had the courage to step back into the world. The man I—" He caught himself, clearing his throat. "The man they're all eager to welcome back."

For a moment, Lucifer looked like he might say something more, but the spell was broken by the sound of approaching voices.

Reluctantly, they stepped apart, the professional masks sliding back into place.

As they approached the brightly lit entrance, Alastor's mind raced. The velvet box, Lucifer's nervousness, the impending separation of the evening—it all swirled together in a confusing mix of emotions he wasn't quite ready to untangle.

But it was already making him…sloppy.

"After you, Professor," Alastor said with a slight bow, gesturing towards the door. His trademark smirk was firmly in place, but his eyes held a hint of something softer, meant only for Lucifer.

With a deep breath, Lucifer nodded and stepped forward.

Alastor followed, steeling himself for the evening of wearing a perfectly charming mask.

☕ On Ao3✨Become my Arc Reader✨On Tumblr ☕

[darcydarlingdabbles]

At Mid Winter ~ Part 6

RadioApple❄️Human Au/Age Gap✨Top!Dom!Alastor

✨Divorced Dad!Lucifer❄️Explicit~

On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: a cucky quickie.

❄️✨☕✨❄️

On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: the excuse to climb him like a tree.

☕ On Ao3✨Become my Arc Reader✨On Tumblr ☕

Alastor's teeth clenched as Vox's footsteps echoed behind him in the lodge hallway.

Despite his polite but firm insistence that he could find his own way, Vox had latched onto him like a persistent parasite.

"So which room is yours?" Vox asked, his tone dripping with barely concealed eagerness.

"I believe I can manage from here," Alastor replied coolly, quickening his pace. "There's no need to trouble yourself further."

Vox matched his stride effortlessly. "It's no trouble at all! I want to make sure you get there safely."

Alastor's eye twitched.

The arrogance of this man was truly astounding. As if Alastor needed an escort, let alone from someone as insufferable as Vox.

"I assure you, I'm quite capable of navigating a simple hallway," Alastor said, his patience wearing thin.

Vox chuckled, the sound grating on Alastor's nerves. "Of course you are! But is it so wrong to want to spend a few more minutes with you?"

Alastor bit back a scathing retort.

He could practically feel Vox's eyes boring into him, hungry and expectant. The entitlement radiating off him was suffocating.

"Your obstinacy is…something," Alastor managed, his smile strained. "But I'm afraid I must insist on parting ways here."

They had reached Alastor's door. He silently prayed Lucifer wasn't inside just yet, lest this parting of ways become even more troublesome.

Vox leaned against the wall, blocking Alastor's path. "Come on, don't be like that. We were having such a nice chat."

Alastor's fingers twitched, itching to shove Vox aside. But he maintained his composure, his smile never wavering. "I believe our 'chat' concluded some time ago. Now, if you'll excuse me…"

Luckily, Alastor caught the sound of a floorboard squeaking inside the room. Since neither he or Vox were moving—it had to be Lucifer.

Alastor turned his back to the door, facing Vox with a practiced smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I appreciate your…concern, but this is where we part ways," he said, his voice dripping with forced politeness.

Vox's eyes gleamed with a predatory light as he took a step closer. "Oh, come on, Alastor. You’ve still got a while before the gala, right? Why don't we continue our conversation inside?" His hand reached out, clearly aiming to touch Alastor.

Revulsion crawled up the brunette’s spine.

He leaned back against the door, pressing himself flat against it to avoid Vox's touch. The cool wood was a stark contrast to the heat of anger rising within him.

"I don't think that would be appropriate," Alastor said, his smile now a rigid mask. His mind raced, searching for a way to extricate himself from this increasingly uncomfortable situation without causing a scene.

Vox edged closer, oozing with misplaced confidence. "Appropriate? Who cares about that? I've seen the way you look at me in class. Don't pretend you're not interested."

“I assure you.” Alastor's stomach churned at the implication. “I have given no pretense.”

How could Vox be so utterly blind to his disinterest? The sheer audacity of the man was infuriating.

He pressed himself harder against the door, wishing he could phase through it and escape this nightmarish rendezvous.

Vox leaned in, his breath hot against Alastor's face. "I thought you might be interested in inviting me into—" he purred, his tone dripping with presumption.

Alastor's patience snapped. He turned his head sharply, cutting Vox off mid-sentence.

"Darling," he said, his voice saccharine yet laced with venom, "if I were remotely interested, you'd already know. And you’d already be mine."

The words hung in the air, sharp and final.

“Leave now. With what’s left of your dignity intact.”

Alastor could almost hear the crack of Vox's ego shattering. He felt a flicker of satisfaction, quickly followed by wariness as he watched Vox's expression morph from shock to anger.

"You think you're so much better than everyone else, don't you?" Vox snarled, his face contorting with jealousy. "With your fancy clothes and that stupid smile. Well, let me tell you something, you're not all that. Your hair looks like a rat's nest, and that jacket? It went out of style decades ago."

Alastor's smile never wavered, even as he inwardly seethed. He was about to deliver a scathing retort when he heard the soft sound of footsteps behind the door.

Lucifer.

His lover’s timing couldn't have been more perfect.

And awful.

"I believe this conversation has run its course," Alastor said coolly.

Vox's eyes narrowed, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "Come on, Al," he cooed, his voice dripping with false sweetness. "Don't be like that. I know your type—all prim and proper on the outside, but I bet you're just dying for someone to take charge in the bedroom."

Alastor's smile tightened, his eyes flashing dangerously.

He could practically smell the entitlement exuding from Vox's every pore.

It was clear that Vox, in his arrogance, had completely misread the situation.

"It’s Alastor," he purred, his voice low and dangerous. "And I'm afraid you've made quite the miscalculation. I assure you, I am neither submissive…nor a bottom."

Vox blinked, momentarily taken aback. But his shock quickly gave way to a leering grin.

"Oh, really?" he challenged, leaning in closer. "That's not a problem. I can work with that. I'll show you who's really in charge."

The desperation in Vox's voice was palpable, clinging to him like a foul odor. It was all Alastor could do not to physically recoil.

Alastor's eyes narrowed. "I'm afraid I must decline your…oh so generous offer," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have more pressing matters to attend to."

Vox's face contorted, a mix of disbelief and anger blinking across his features.

"You can't be serious," he sputtered, his entitlement morphing into wounded pride. “I paid for your food.”

Alastor let out a sharp laugh. “Oh please, if you want a pity fuck, go hit up Valentino again. Like you always do.”

"What the fuck—” Vox snarled. “How dare you talk to me like that! Do you know who I am? Who my father is? You're making a big mistake."

"The only mistake here," Alastor said coolly, "is your continued existence."

As Vox's voice rose, Alastor's keen ears caught a faint sound from behind the door—the telltale jiggle of the handle.

Alastor’s hand shot down, grabbing the door handle. He held it firmly, preventing it from turning, all while maintaining eye contact with Vox.

Vox's face flushed an ugly shade of red. "You stuck-up little—"

"I wouldn't finish that sentence if I were you, dear," Alastor warned, his voice low and menacing despite his unwavering smile.

The handle beneath his fingers continued to twitch, and he tightened his grip, silently willing Lucifer to wait just a moment longer.

Alastor's smile sharpened, his eyes glinting dangerously as he leaned slightly forward.

"Let me make this abundantly clear, Vox," he said, his voice a silky whisper laced with venom. "Your pathetic attempts at courtship are not only unwelcome but frankly, laughable. You possess all the charm and grace of a drunken frat boy at last call. And I wouldn’t touch you if you paid me."

Vox's jaw clenched.

"Now," Alastor continued, his tone brooking no argument, "I suggest you toddle off and find someone more suited to your…limited capabilities. Perhaps a nice wall socket would be more receptive to your advances?"

“Fuck you.” Vox snarled.

Alastor chuckled. “You wish.”

The hallway fell silent for a beat before Vox's shoulders slumped in defeat.

"You'll regret this," he muttered, but the threat rang hollow as he turned and skulked away.

“No more regrettable than the time I wasted on you.”

Alastor watched until Vox disappeared around the corner, then swiftly opened the door and entered his and Lucifer’s room.

He barely had time to close the door before a blur of motion crashed into him. Lucifer's arms wrapped around him tightly, nearly knocking the wind out of him.

Lucifer's arms wound tightly around Alastor's neck, his legs wrapping around his waist with surprising strength.

The sudden shift in weight nearly threw Alastor off balance, but he managed to brace himself against the closed door with a thud, his hands instinctively moving to support Lucifer's thighs.

"My, my," Alastor chuckled, his voice slightly strained from the unexpected exertion. "Miss me, did you?"

Lucifer's response was to bury his face in the crook of Alastor's neck, his breath hot against the skin there.

"I heard everything," he mumbled, his voice muffled. "That absolute cretin. I was about to come out there and—"

"And what?" Alastor teased, adjusting his grip to better support Lucifer's weight. "Defend my honor? How chivalrous of you, darling."

Lucifer pulled back just enough to meet Alastor's gaze, his eyes blazing with possessiveness. "I would have torn him limb from limb," he growled, his fingers digging into Alastor's shoulders.

Alastor couldn't help but laugh at the ferociousness in Lucifer's voice. "As entertaining as that would have been, I believe I handled the situation quite adequately."

Lucifer's legs tightened around Alastor's waist, drawing their bodies impossibly closer.

"You shouldn't have had to handle it at all," he muttered, his brow furrowed with worry. "Are you alright? Did he touch you?"

Alastor's smile softened at Lucifer's concern. He leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to Lucifer's forehead.

"I'm perfectly fine, my dear. Vox may be persistent, but he's ultimately feckless. Like an annoying gnat."

Lucifer's frown deepened, his hands moving to cup Alastor's face. "He's not harmless, Alastor. He's influential. His father—"

"Is a pompous windbag with more money than sense," Alastor finished, his tone dismissive. "Much like his son, I imagine."

Despite his worry, Lucifer couldn't help but snort at that, bringing their foreheads close together.

"You're impossible, you know that?"

Alastor's grin widened. "So I've been told. Now, are you planning on climbing down anytime soon?"

Lucifer blinked, suddenly acutely aware of their position.

His legs were still wrapped tightly around Alastor's waist, their bodies pressed flush against each other. He could feel the heat radiating from Alastor's chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

The realization sent a rush of warmth to Lucifer's cheeks, painting them a delicate shade of pink.

"Oh! I…I'm so sorry," Lucifer stammered.

He unwound his legs from Alastor's waist, fumbling slightly as he tried to find his footing.

"I didn't mean to just…pounce on you like that.” Lucifer ducked his head, rubbing his hands down the hem of his sweater. “I…wow that was…forward of me.”

"Darling, I’ve hardly seen you be the forward one." Alastor's grin widened, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “But I’d gladly see it more often.”

Lucifer ducked his head. “I thought, I mean, you like being in charge.”

“I do.” Alastor shrugged. “That doesn’t mean you can’t let me know when you want me.”

Lucifer’s face was a brilliant shade of pink now, his mind swirling with the possibilities.

"Still, I shouldn't have…I mean, after what just happened with Vox, you probably don't want…"

"Don't want what?" Alastor asked, his voice low and teasing. He reached out, gently tilting Lucifer's chin up to meet his gaze. "To be ambushed by my incredibly attractive lover? To have said lover wrap himself around me like an amorous octopus?"

A small laugh escaped Lucifer's lips, though his cheeks remained flushed. "When you put it that way, it sounds ridiculous."

"On the contrary," Alastor purred, pulling Lucifer closer. "I find this side of you utterly charming. All grabby and possessive. It's quite the ego boost, I must say."

"If…if you'd like, I could help you relax. After dealing with him, you must be tense. I could... I mean, if you want…"

Alastor's smile softened. He cupped Lucifer's face in his hands, thumbs gently caressing his cheekbones. "While I appreciate the sentiment, angel, I'm quite alright. Vox is hardly worth the energy it would take to be upset over."

A low chuckle escaped Alastor's lips, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and affection.

"You, on the other hand," he purred, "how utterly adorable you are when you're jealous."

Lucifer's brow furrowed, caught between indignation and pleasure at Alastor's words. "I'm not—"

"Hush, darling," Alastor interrupted, tracing a finger along Lucifer's jawline. "You're far too brilliant to be fretting over someone as inconsequential as Vox. After all, who could possibly compare to my sweet, submissive Lucifer?"

A shiver ran through Lucifer at Alastor's touch, his eyes half-lidding. "Alastor, I meant what I said. Anything you want, I’m—"

Alastor placed a thumb on Lucifer's lips, silencing him once more.

"I appreciate the offer, my dear, but I'm quite satisfied for the moment. Besides," he added with a smirk, "I believe you’ve already cleaned up after our moment in the bathroom, yes?"

A flush crept up Lucifer's neck. "I…yes, but that doesn't mean I can't—"

"No need," Alastor said, his tone gentle but firm. "Your enthusiasm is delightful, but I'm content to simply enjoy your company."

Alastor's smile softened as he gazed at Lucifer, taking in the flushed cheeks and slightly disheveled hair.

With gentle hands, he guided Lucifer towards the plush bed that dominated the center of the room.

"Come here," Alastor murmured, pulling Lucifer down beside him onto the soft duvet. "Let's just relax for a bit, shall we?"

Lucifer allowed himself to be maneuvered, his body pliant under Alastor's touch.

The mattress dipped beneath their combined weight, enveloping them in a cocoon of comfort. Alastor propped himself up against the headboard, his long legs stretched out before him, and opened his arms in invitation.

Without hesitation, Lucifer curled into Alastor's side, his head resting on the other man's chest. He could hear the steady thrum of Alastor's heartbeat, soothing his lingering anxiety.

Alastor's fingers found their way into Lucifer's hair, gently carding through the soft strands.

The repetitive motion was hypnotic, and Lucifer felt the tension slowly seep from his muscles.

The warmth of Alastor's body seeped into him, chasing away the last vestiges of worry.

He breathed in deeply, inhaling the familiar scent of Alastor's cologne.

The room was bathed in the soft glow of the afternoon sun, its golden light filtering through the gauzy curtains.

The effect was almost dreamlike, as if they were suspended in a moment out of time.

Alastor's free hand found Lucifer's, their fingers intertwining naturally. He brought their joined hands to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to Lucifer's knuckles.

The gesture was so tender, so unlike Alastor's usual sharp edges, that Lucifer felt his heart swell with affection.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, content to simply exist in each other's presence for now.

☕ On Ao3✨Become my Arc Reader✨On Tumblr ☕

[darcydarlingdabbles]

At Mid Winter ~ Part 5

RadioApple❄️Human Au/Age Gap✨Top!Dom!Alastor

✨Divorced Dad!Lucifer❄️Explicit~

On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: a cucky quickie.

❄️✨☕✨❄️

☕ On Ao3✨Become my Arc Reader✨On Tumblr ☕

As Alastor and Vox entered the lodge restaurant, Lucifer's pencil stilled on his sketchpad. He watched intently as Vox gestured toward a cozy booth nestled in the corner.

"How about here?" Vox suggested, his voice eager. "Nice and private."

Alastor's smile remained fixed, but his eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. "I prefer a table, if you don't mind. The lighting is better."

Lucifer suppressed a smirk, recognizing Alastor's subtle rejection.

As the host led them to a table with those distinctive chairs that curved around with arms sliding under, Lucifer's gaze followed Alastor's graceful movements.

Vox slid into his seat without ceremony, while Alastor remained standing.

For a moment, Lucifer's heart leapt, half-expecting Alastor to pull out Vox's chair out of instinct.

But of course, he didn't.

Alastor always pulled out Lucifer’s chair, always with a flourish and a charm. He'd assumed it was just Alastor being a gentleman, but there was more to it.

But one day, after Lucifer had fumbled his way into asking, Alastor just told him.

The younger man chose his seat, his clothes, sometimes even his meals—because that was how Alastor showed his ownership over Lucifer.

Lucifer remembered the shiver that went through him as the brunette so casually confessed it. The realization that every gesture, every choice Alastor made was deliberate. Not just in the bedroom.

“Because you are mine.” Alastor said simply, casually scanning the season menu. “And I take care of what is mine.

Lucifer watched as Alastor finally took his seat, positioning himself with calculated precision. The contrast between Alastor's refined manners and Vox's casual demeanor couldn't have been starker.

"I do hope the table meets your exacting standards," Vox said, a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

Alastor's smile widened. "Oh, it's utterly adequate. Now, shall we peruse the menu?"

Lucifer's pencil hovered over the sketchpad, his eyes darting between the blank page and the two figures seated across the lodge restaurant from his little booth.

Vox leaned forward eagerly. "You look ravishing this morning."

“You shameless flatterer.” Alastor said, flatly, despite his smile.

Lucifer's grip tightened on his pencil.

He forced his attention back to the sketchpad, making a few hesitant lines. But his gaze was inexorably drawn back to Alastor's elegant profile, the sharp angle of his jaw, the knowing glint in his eye.

"You're too kind," Alastor replied, his tone carefully neutral.

Lucifer's pencil stilled. He knew that tone—Alastor was already growing weary of his companion. A small, selfish part of Lucifer rejoiced at the thought.

As they perused the menus, the blonde’s mind wandered.

He remembered Alastor's encouragement to take up drawing again, his gentle insistence that Lucifer nurture his talents and hobbies. But how could he focus on landscapes or still lifes when the most captivating subject sat mere feet away?

Lucifer's pencil moved almost of its own accord, outlining the curve of Alastor's neck, the sharp cut of his cheekbones. He barely registered the words of the conversation floating over to him, too consumed by his furtive artistic study.

"You know, now that we have time, we could always talk about us performing," Vox was saying, his voice oily. “I think we’d be really, really good together.”

Alastor's laugh was like cut glass.

"My dear fellow, let's not get ahead of ourselves. We've only just sat down to brunch, after all."

As the waiter approached, Vox leaned forward with an air of confidence. "Two strawberry mimosas to start, please," he declared, shooting what he clearly thought was a charming smile at Alastor.

Lucifer couldn't help but snort, quickly disguising it as a cough. Anyone, who knew anything about Alastor, knew that he had a distaste for sweets. Licking honey off of Lucifer aside.

From his vantage point, he saw Alastor's smile tighten ever so slightly.

"Actually," Alastor interjected smoothly, "I’ll have black coffee." He turned to the waiter, his voice honeyed but firm. "It's going to be quite a long day with the gala, you see. And I have work to attend to beforehand."

Vox's face fell slightly, but he recovered quickly. "Of course, of course. How…responsible of you."

“I am nothing if not judicious .”

As the waiter departed, Lucifer found himself lost in thought.

He recalled the countless times Alastor had ordered for him in a restaurant—far from prying eyes. Discreet places where they could be together without fear of judgment or gossip from the university crowd.

It wasn't just about making choices for Lucifer.

Alastor ordered precisely what Lucifer would have chosen himself. He knew Lucifer's palate intimately, could anticipate his cravings before Lucifer himself was even aware of them.

Lucifer's reverie was broken by Vox's voice. "So, Alastor, tell me about your capstone. I'm dying to know more."

Alastor's reply was lost on Lucifer as he marveled at the stark difference between this stilted interaction and the effortless synchronicity he shared with Alastor.

Lucifer's mind drifted to a particularly memorable evening, a flush creeping up his neck at the recollection.

Alastor had invited himself over, when Lucifer was available, ostensibly to "get to know each other better."

But Alastor, ever the tactician, had something far more elaborate in mind.

"A little game," Alastor had purred, producing a sleek, curved toy. "To make our chat more…stimulating."

Soon, Lucifer found himself perched on the edge of his plush armchair, wrists and ankles bound to the furniture, with the vibrating wand nestled snugly inside him.

Its tip pressed firmly against his prostate. Alastor sat across from him, legs crossed, a small remote in hand.

"Now then," Alastor began, his voice silky. "Tell me, darling, what's your favorite season?"

"A-autumn," Lucifer stammered, caught off guard by the sudden question.

Alastor's smile widened he clicked the remote in his hand. The toy’s vibrations picked up a level, and Lucifer gasped, gripping the arms of the chair.

"Excellent. And your least favorite food?"

Lucifer struggled to form words as pleasure coursed through him. "Onions," he finally managed.

The vibrations decreased slightly, leaving Lucifer whimpering.

"Come now, surely you can elaborate," Alastor teased.

"It’s…it’s the texture. And the taste," Lucifer panted. "Overpowering."

The intensity of the vibrations ramped up again, drawing a moan from Lucifer's lips.

"Your ideal vacation?"

"B-beach," Lucifer breathed. "No, wait…m-mountains."

Alastor chuckled, turning the dial back down. "Indecisive, are we?"

“No! Mountains.” Lucifer protested, thinking of the chalet where they first met. As if his face couldn’t get ready.

The questions continued, each more personal than the last. Favorite color? Childhood pet? Guilty pleasure?

With each answer, Alastor adjusted the toy's intensity, keeping Lucifer teetering on the edge of ecstasy.

"Last movie that made you cry?"

Lucifer's mind raced, clouded with pleasure. "I…I can't…"

The vibrations slowed to a tantalizingly weak hum. Alastor leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "Focus, darling. I want to know everything about you."

"The…The Notebook," Lucifer finally gasped out.

“Oh I should have known.” Alastor chuckled. “Such a romantic you are.”

The toy roared back to life, drawing a cry from Lucifer's lips.

As the night wore on, Lucifer found himself revealing things he'd never told another soul—things that he didn’t even think mattered to anyone at all.

But Alastor took them all hungrily, all Lucifer’s petty little preferences laid bare under Alastor's intense gaze and skilled manipulations. Like they were invaliable information.

By the time Alastor asked his final question—"Who do you belong to?" - Lucifer was a quivering mess, every nerve ending alight with sensation.

"You," he moaned, back arching. "Only you, Alastor."

“Very good, angel.”

Dragged back to the present, Lucifer observed the awkward dance unfolding before him. Fuck, he couldn’t get his head out of the gutter.

Must be the damn plug.

Vox leaned forward, his voice syrupy. "You must let me take you to this little place I know. The chef there—"

"Perhaps another time," Alastor cut in smoothly, his smile never wavering. "I'm quite particular about my dining experiences."

Vox's face fell, but he quickly rallied. "Well, I can show you some unique experiences."

Lucifer cringed inwardly at Vox's transparent desperation.

The man oscillated wildly between fawning admiration and poorly concealed entitlement, as if his status should impress Alastor.

"Oh I doubt that,” Alastor replied from behind his menu. “My tastes are…quite singular, these days." There was a glint in his eye that Lucifer recognized all too well.

Alastor leaned back in his chair, the picture of relaxed charm.

"Tell me, Vox, what do you find most fascinating about your major?"

Vox's eyes lit up at the opportunity to expound on his favorite subject—himself. He launched into a monologue, gesticulating wildly as he spoke.

"Oh, where to begin? I've always been fascinated by the power of media to shape perceptions. You see, we're not just creating content; we're crafting narratives that can change the world!" He paused dramatically, clearly expecting Alastor to be impressed.

Alastor's smile remained fixed, but his eyes glazed over slightly as Vox continued.

"Take social media, for instance. It's revolutionized the way we communicate! I mean, can you imagine a world without hashtags? Without viral sensations?" Vox chuckled at his own wit. ”The synergy there is just…explosive!"

Lucifer watched as Alastor's fingers drummed on the wrap around arm of his chair. Under the table, but unmistakable in his lack of enthusiasm.

The waiter taking their food order was a welcome reprieve, but as soon as the man was gone, Vox plowed on.

Utterly oblivious.

"And don't get me started on influencer marketing! It's the future, I tell you. Why, just the other day, I was telling my professor about my groundbreaking idea.”

"Fascinating perspective," Alastor said, his tone conveying anything but fascination.

He reached for his pocket, withdrawing his phone.

Lucifer's eyebrows shot up. In all their time together, he'd never seen Alastor use his phone during a meal. During a movie. During any moment they were meant to be facing one another.

The brunette always gave the fullness of his attention to whoever he was talking to.

This was the height of rudeness, completely out of character for the flawlessly mannered young man.

Just as Lucifer was pondering this oddity, a sudden vibration coursed through him—making him drop his pencil and nearly making a casualty out of his water glass. His eyes widened, a small gasp escaping before he could stifle it.

The plug inside him, the one Alastor had insisted he wear to brunch, was now humming low and slow, but very much alive.

Alastor. Did not tell him. That. It. Vibrated.

Heat rushed to Lucifer’s face. They’d talked about it, messing around in a secluded booth in a dark resturant. And he knew his partner’s fondness for toys. And tricks.

His gaze snapped to Alastor, who had set his phone on the chair arm under the table, and was idly tapping at his screen. The brunette didn’t look at him, but a small smirk was playing at the corners of his mouth.

Lucifer's breath hitched as he watched Alastor's long, elegant fingers dance.

With each tap, the vibrations inside him pulsed and changed rhythm, perfectly synchronized with the movement of those pianist's hands. Alastor's grin widened almost inconspicuously, his eyes flicking up to meet Lucifer's for just a moment—a moment long enough to confirm that he knew exactly what effect he was having.

Lucifer shifted in his seat, trying to maintain his composure. His pencil trembled slightly against his sketchpad as he attempted to focus on his drawing.

The moment he ducked his head, a long tremor pulsed through the toy.

Oh, so that was the game they were playing.

Alastor was bored. Obviously because Vox was boring. And Lucifer was his entertainment.

Lucifer gripped his pencil tightly, forcing himself to focus on the sketchpad before him.

He traced the outline of Alastor's profile, desperately trying to ignore the insistent vibrations pulsing through his core.

Across the room, Vox droned on, oblivious to the silent battle of wills unfolding right in front of his nose.

"And then I said to the professor, 'But what about the engagement metrics?'"

Alastor nodded politely, his fingers never stilling on his phone screen. The vibrations intensified, sending a jolt through Lucifer that nearly made him gasp aloud.

He bit his lip hard, his knuckles white around the pencil.

Lucifer's eyes darted to Alastor, silently pleading.

The brunette tapped out a new rhythm. Short, sharp pulses that made Lucifer's toes curl in his shoes.

Determined not to give in, Lucifer returned to his sketch with renewed vigor.

He focused on capturing the sharp line of Alastor's jaw, the curve of his lips.

Anything to distract from the pleasure building within him.

But Alastor wasn't about to let him off so easily. The vibrations slowed to an agonizing crawl, then suddenly surged.

Lucifer's pencil skittered across the page, leaving a jagged line. He coughed to cover his sharp intake of breath.

"Are you alright over there, sir?" A waiter called as he passed.

"Fine," Lucifer managed, his voice strained. "Just…swallowed wrong."

Alastor's eyes gleamed with amusement.

He made a point of reaching over, taking up his water glass and taking an elegant sip, his lips still on the phone screen.

Lucifer got the message, he was supposed to drink.

The blonde reached for his glass with a wobbling hand, nearly spilling it as a particularly intense vibration caught him off guard.

Damn him.

Lucifer took a long sip, using the moment to compose himself.

As he set the glass down, his eyes met Alastor's. The brunette raised an eyebrow, a silent challenge in his gaze.

Lucifer set his jaw, determined not to break.

But Alastor was relentless.

He varied the intensity, the rhythm, the pattern of vibrations. Sometimes quick and sharp, sometimes slow and lingering. Each new sensation threatened to undo Lucifer completely.

Sweat beaded on Lucifer's brow as he fought to maintain his composure. His breath came in short, shallow gasps.

He gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles white.

Across the room, Alastor casually sipped his coffee, never missing a beat in his minimal conversation with Vox.

But his eyes kept flicking to Lucifer, drinking in every twitch, every suppressed groan. Every uncomfortable shift along the leather booth.

The memory of their conversation flooded back to him. Alastor's low, velvety voice in his ear: "When we do this, darling, we'll find somewhere more... private. The thrill of public, yes, but with a modicum of discretion. Perhaps a trip to the restroom?"

Lucifer's eyes darted toward the bathroom doors, then back to Alastor.

He was still chatting amiably with Vox, but his fingers never ceased their maddening dance on the phone screen.

The vibrations intensified, and Lucifer had to stifle a moan.

Oh, fuck, not here. He’d never live it down if Alastor made him come in public.

Suddenly, Lucifer realized why Alastor dressed him in a sweater that fell nearly down to his thighs—despite making fun of his wardrobe choices early that morning.

Alastor's voice cut through the haze of Lucifer's arousal.

"If you'll excuse me for a moment," he said smoothly to Vox, rising from his seat.

As he turned, his eyes locked with Lucifer's. A silent command.

Lucifer's breath caught in his throat. He watched, transfixed, as Alastor strode purposefully towards the restroom.

The plug inside him pulsed insistently, urging him to follow.

With unsteady hands, Lucifer set down his sketchpad and stood, hoping his state wasn't obvious to the other diners, plucing at the hem of his sweater.

He walked as casually as he could manage, his heart pounding in his chest.

As he pushed open the bathroom door, a hand grabbed his wrist, yanking him into a stall.

Alastor's face was inches from his own, eyes dark with desire.

"Took you long enough, darling," Alastor purred, pressing Lucifer against the wall. His hands were everywhere at once, unbuckling, unzipping.

"Alastor," Lucifer gasped, "someone could—"

“Do you want to—”

“No, green. Please green.” Lucifer plead.

Alastor silenced him with a searing kiss. "Then you'd best be quiet, hadn't you?" he murmured against Lucifer's lips.

All at once, Alastor hoisted Lucifer up, wrapping the blonde's legs around his waist. The new position drove the plug deeper, making Lucifer bite back a moan.

"That's it," Alastor encouraged, one hand snaking between them to grasp Lucifer's cock. Rolling his hips against the blonde, pushing the toy even deeper.

"Do you have any idea…" Alastor panted against his covered neck, like he was as worked up as Lucifer. “How difficult it was to focus on that prick’s idle prattling…”

Alastor was kissing him again. Silencing them both for a long moment while Lucifer clung to his thin frame.

“While you were over his shoulder. Blushing and moaning so wantonly?”

“But…you…” Lucifer whined, unable to focus on much more than the hand on his cock in the toy in his ass. “You made me, do that.”

“Yes, and?” Alastor said, tilting his head with that wicked grin of his.

Lucifer's world exploded in a flash of white-hot pleasure as he came, biting down on Alastor's shoulder to muffle his cry.

Alastor's lips and teeth were at his neck, sucking and nipping with feverish intensity.

The overstimulation was exquisite torture, waves of sensation crashing over him.

Alastor kissed him greedily, swallowing every sound.

But as the aftershocks subsided, the vibrations from the plug became too much.

Lucifer squirmed uncomfortably, his oversensitive body protesting the continued stimulation. "Ah, getting…getting red," he gasped out.

Alastor's eyes widened in realization. "Ah, my apologies. " He murmured, fumbling for his phone to switch off the device.

"Are you alright?"

Lucifer sagged against him, letting Alastor hold him up. Least he could do, after wearing him out like that.

"I'm fine, sweetheart," he reassured, nuzzling into the crook of Alastor's neck. "Just a bit much there at the end."

Alastor's arms tightened around him, one hand gently stroking his hair. "My poor thing," he cooed, pressing soft kisses to Lucifer's temple. "Let me make it up to you."

Lucifer melted into the comfort, greedily soaking up Alastor's affection. This gentleness was a side of Alastor few ever saw, and Lucifer treasured these moments.

"You're forgiven," he murmured, a contented sigh escaping him. "Though I may need some extra pampering later."

“You might not have to wait until later.” Alastor cupped Lucifer's face in his hands, his hazel eyes searching. "Darling, I need you to go upstairs to our room now," he said softly, his thumb caressing Lucifer's cheek. "Can you do that for me?"

Lucifer leaned into the touch, still slightly dazed. "What about you?" he asked, his brow furrowing.

A shadow of irritation flickered across Alastor's features. "I have to deal with the prattling prick," he said, his voice taking on a harder edge. "But I promise I'll join you soon."

Lucifer whined at the idea of losing Alastor to Vox right now, even for just the charade.

“Don't worry, my dear. I'll make quick work of him." He leaned in, capturing Lucifer's lips in a possessive kiss.

As they parted, Lucifer wobbled as he was set back on his feet, and deftly cleaned up and redressed.

"Don't keep me waiting too long," he murmured.

Alastor's laugh was low and dangerous. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of it. Now go, before I'm tempted to forget our reputations altogether."

Lucifer nodded, reluctantly untangling himself from Alastor's embrace.

As he slipped out of the bathroom stall, he couldn't help but hope that Alastor utterly dismantled Vox. But quickly. The sooner Lucifer had him back, the better.

☕ On Ao3✨Become my Arc Reader✨On Tumblr ☕

[darcydarlingdabbles]

At Mid Winter ~ Part 4

RadioApple❄️Human Au/Age Gap✨Top!Dom!Alastor

✨Divorced Dad!Lucifer❄️Explicit~

On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: a hot steamy shower and a balm for insecurities~

❄️✨☕✨❄️

☕ On Ao3✨Become my Arc Reader✨On Tumblr ☕

Lucifer blinked awake, his golden eyes adjusting to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains.

As consciousness crept in, so did the awareness of his naked body, still adorned with Alastor's elegant handwriting.

He glanced down, a small smile tugging at his lips as he read the words etched across his chest: ‘Beautiful. Worthy. Mine.’

The warmth of Alastor's body pressed against his back, a comforting presence that made Lucifer's heart swell.

He hadn't expected Alastor to insist he sleep like this. And naked.

Lucifer's fingers ghosted over the words on his skin, tracing each letter with reverence.

The night before, Alastor's hands had lingered on each phrase as they drifted off to sleep.

He should have known better than to assume Alastor let him wash the words off, Lucifer mused silently, embarrassment and fondness coloring his thoughts.

He shifted slightly, careful not to disturb Alastor, when he felt something firm pressing against his ass. Lucifer swallowed his little gasp of surprise.

Part of him wanted to lean into that touch, to wake Alastor with gentle caresses and breathless pleas. But another part—the part still healing from past hurts—held him back.

Lucifer lay there, caught between desire and hesitation, savoring the weight of Alastor's arm draped over his waist.

He focused on the steady rhythm of Alastor's breathing, allowing it to ground him in the present.

"You're safe here," he reminded himself, the words barely a whisper on his lips. "He sees you. All of you."

As if in response, Alastor stirred slightly in his sleep. His arm tightened around Lucifer's middle, pulling him closer.

Here, in Alastor's arms, he was safe. He was wanted. He was enough.

Lucifer wondered, not for the first time, how he had gotten so lucky. How this brilliant, commanding man had chosen him—flaws, insecurities, and all.

Lucifer's fingers found Alastor's hand, intertwining their fingers as he basked in the moment.

All he knew was that in this moment, wrapped in Alastor's arms and covered in his affirmations, he felt whole.

As if on cue, Alastor shifted behind him, his morning wood pressing insistently against the older man.

A thrill of anticipation ran through Lucifer's body.

"Good morning," Lucifer whispered, his voice husky still.

Alastor's only response was a low, sleepy grumble, but his arm tightened around Lucifer's waist.

The blonde chuckled softly. "Not quite awake yet, are you?" He gently ran his fingers along Alastor's forearm, relishing the contrast of soft skin and firm muscle. "That's alright. I know just how to wake you up."

He carefully turned in Alastor's embrace, drinking in the sight of his lover's relaxed features.

Lucifer's heart swelled with affection.

Alastor was so beautiful.

When he was dressed and bespectacled and wearing his smirked, that was one thing. But sleepy, tousle-haired, relaxed Alastor was gorgeous.

A soft face that was all Lucifer’s.

The possessive thought surprised the blonde, but he didn't shy away from it.

Instead, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of Alastor's mouth.

Lucifer's lips brushed softly against the sensitive skin beneath Alastor's jaw, savoring the warmth and the faint, spicy scent that was uniquely his. His fingers traced reverent patterns along Alastor's collarbone, marveling at the smooth expanse of rich brown skin.

"You're exquisite," Lucifer murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

He felt almost guilty for disturbing the peaceful quiet of the morning, but the urge to revere Alastor's body was too strong to resist.

A flicker of doubt crept into his mind.

Was this too much? Too needy?

He hesitated, his lips hovering just above Alastor's pulse point.

Suddenly, a low, sleepy grumble broke the silence. "You insatiable creature," Alastor mumbled, his voice thick with sleep but tinged with enjoyment.

Lucifer's heart skipped a beat. He pulled back slightly, searching Alastor's face.

"Is this okay?" he asked softly.

Alastor's eyes remained closed, but a small smirk played at the corners of his mouth.

"Did I tell you to stop?" his hand came up to tangle in Lucifer's disheveled blond hair.

A wave of relief washed over Lucifer, followed quickly by a surge of desire.

"No, you didn't," he replied, a hint of playfulness creeping into his voice.

With renewed confidence, Lucifer resumed his tender exploration, relishing each soft sigh and subtle movement from Alastor.

Emboldened by the permission, Lucifer trailed his kisses lower, savoring the warmth of Alastor's skin against his lips. His hands traced reverent patterns along Alastor's lean torso, fingertips dancing over taut muscle and smooth planes.

Lucifer's mind wandered as his lips traced a path down Alastor's chest.

He marveled at how different Alastor was in these quiet morning moments. Gone was the sharp-witted, composed man who commanded every room he entered. In his place was this softer version, all lethargic mumbles and languid stretches.

It was a side of Alastor that Lucifer treasured, a secret shared between them in the hazy light of dawn.

He loved the way Alastor's usual eloquence gave way to half-formed words and breathy sighs. How his carefully maintained control melted into unrestrained desire.

Lucifer's hands roamed lower, fingers trailing along the cut of Alastor's hips. He felt the younger man's muscles twitch beneath his touch, a quiet gasp escaping Alastor's lips.

Perhaps it was the way sleep stripped away their inhibitions, leaving them raw and vulnerable. Or maybe it was simply the intoxicating combination of Alastor's morning arousal and Lucifer's ever-present desire.

He loved the lazy, unhurried exploration of each other's bodies. The way they could take their time, savoring every touch, every kiss, every whispered endearment.

Alastor's fingers tightened in Lucifer's hair, guiding him lower. Lucifer went willingly, pressing open-mouthed kisses along Alastor's abdomen. He could feel the heat radiating from Alastor's skin, the subtle shift of his hips betraying his growing arousal.

Lucifer paused, looking up at Alastor's face. The younger man's eyes were half-lidded, and the morning sun showed the subtle freckles that dappled his skin.

"You're so damn pretty," Lucifer murmured.

Alastor's response was a low, rumbling chuckle. "Less talking, more touching."

Lucifer grinned, more than happy to obey.

He loved this side of Alastor—demanding, unashamed in his desire. It was so different from his usual carefully controlled demeanor, and Lucifer relished being the one to draw it out.

Lucifer ducked his head, taking Alastor’s cock into his mouth. A soft gasp escaped Alastor's lips, his fingers tightening in Lucifer's hair.

"That's it," Alastor purred, his voice husky with pleasure. "You're so good for me, aren't you?"

The praise washed over Lucifer like warm honey, melting away his lingering insecurities.

He savored the weight of Alastor on his tongue, the taste of him, salty and musky and uniquely Alastor.

Lucifer took his time, exploring every ridge and vein with careful attention. He hollowed his cheeks, sucking gently as he bobbed his head, relishing the quiet moans that fell from Alastor's lips.

Lucifer's hands roamed Alastor's thighs, kneading the firm muscle there. His fingers trailed higher, ghosting over Alastor's hipbones, tracing idle patterns on his lower belly.

"Look at me," Alastor commanded softly, tugging gently at Lucifer's hair.

Lucifer obeyed, gazing up at Alastor through his lashes. The morning light caught the sheen of sweat on his brow, making him look almost ethereal.

"Beautiful," Alastor murmured, his thumb brushing Lucifer's cheekbone. "So perfect for me."

The praise sent a jolt of pleasure through Lucifer's body.

He redoubled his efforts, taking Alastor deeper, reveling in the way Alastor's breath hitched. His own arousal throbbed, neglected but no less intense for it.

This wasn't about him, though. This was about adoring Alastor, showing him what words could never fully express.

Alastor's hips began to move, small, controlled thrusts that matched Lucifer's rhythm.

"That's it," he breathed. "Just like that. You're doing so well."

Lucifer hummed in response, the vibrations drawing a low moan from the brunette. He could feel Alastor's thighs trembling, knew he was close. Lucifer's free hand slipped lower, cupping and gently massaging as his mouth worked.

"Lucifer," Alastor gasped, his voice strained.

Lucifer didn't pull away. Instead, he took Alastor deeper, swallowing around him.

Suddenly, Alastor's grip tightened, and he began to move his hips. Lucifer relaxed his throat, surrendering control as Alastor fucked into his mouth with increasing urgency.

With a low groan, Alastor pulled out at the last moment, spilling across Lucifer's upturned face.

Lucifer blinked, momentarily stunned, before a breathless chuckle escaped him.

"Was that really necessary?" his tone playfully exasperated despite the warmth blooming.

Alastor smirked, reaching for a cloth on the nightstand.

"Why do you think I didn't mark your face last night?" he teased, gently cleaning Lucifer's skin. "It’s far too pretty for a marker."

“So you marked it with your come instead?” Lucifer tried not to snort when he laughed.

Alastor's rich chuckle filled the air as he finished cleaning Lucifer's face.

"I believe we both need a proper shower now, don't you think?" His hazel eyes sparkled with mischief.

Lucifer felt a flush creep up his neck. "I suppose we do," he agreed, his voice only slightly hoarse.

With graceful efficiency, Alastor rose from the bed. "Allow me," he said, disappearing into the bathroom.

Lucifer's heart fluttered as he listened to the sound of running water. He couldn't help but marvel at how Alastor always seemed to take charge so effortlessly.

Alastor already under the spray, water cascading down his lean form.

"Come here," the brunette beckoned, holding out a hand.

Lucifer hesitated for just a moment before joining him.

The warm water felt heavenly, but not nearly as intoxicating as Alastor's touch as he began to wash away the marker from Lucifer's skin.

"You wore these words so handsomely," Alastor murmured, his fingers tracing the fading affirmations on Lucifer's neck and shoulders.

Lucifer shivered despite the heat. "Took me a while, but then they started to feel, true. " he admitted softly.

Alastor's hands moved lower, soap-slick palms gliding over Lucifer's chest. "They are true," he affirmed, thumbs brushing teasingly over Lucifer's nipples.

"Alastor," he breathed, unsure if it was a plea or a warning.

But Alastor just smiled, continuing his leisurely exploration. His touch danced along Lucifer's sides, over his hips.

By the time Alastor sank to his knees, Lucifer was achingly hard.

He looked down at Alastor, water droplets clinging to those impossibly long lashes, and felt his breath catch in his throat.

"Tell me what you want," Alastor purred, his breath hot against Lucifer's damp skin.

Lucifer's fingers twitched at his sides, longing to sink into Alastor's damp curls.

"I... I want to wash your hair," he confessed, his voice rough with desire.

Alastor's eyebrow arched, a small smirk playing at his lips. "Oh, darling," he chuckled, "you know that's not allowed."

A soft whine of frustration escaped Lucifer.

"But why?" he asked, unable to keep the petulance from his tone. "I'd be so careful…"

"I'm sure you would," Alastor replied, rising smoothly to his feet. He cupped Lucifer's face, thumb tracing his lower lip. "But my hair requires…particular care. I'm rather meticulous about it."

Lucifer's eyes flickered to the array of specialized products on the shower shelf, a testament to Alastor's fastidious nature.

He nodded, understanding but still disappointed.

"Now," Alastor's voice dropped an octave. "Let's focus on more…pressing matters, shall we?"

In one fluid motion, Alastor was on his knees again. Lucifer's breath hitched, arousal surging through him at the sight. It felt almost forbidden, having someone as powerful as Alastor kneeling in front of him.

"You like seeing me like this, don't you?" Alastor's eyes glinted wickedly as he reached for a bottle on the shelf.

Lucifer recognized it instantly—waterproof lube. His heart raced.

"Yes," he admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

Alastor's smile was sharp. "Good," he purred, coating his fingers. "But don't forget, darling…" His hand snaked around his cock, fingers pressing insistently against Lucifer's hole. "Even on my knees, I'm still in control."

Lucifer's world narrowed to the exquisite sensation of Alastor's fingers working him open.

The warm water cascaded over them both, steam rising in gentle wisps. Pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in his core, building to an inevitable crescendo.

Before they’d even done—this wasn’t like when Alastor prepped him. He was being rough, intentional, trying to get the blonde off.

"A-Alastor," Lucifer gasped, his fingers scrabbling for purchase against the slick shower wall. "I'm going to—"

"Then do it," Alastor commanded, his voice low and rich with desire. "Come for me, darling."

With a choked cry, Lucifer obeyed, his release painting the shower wall in pearlescent streaks. His legs trembled, threatening to give out, but Alastor's steady arm around his waist kept him upright.

As the aftershocks subsided, Alastor rose gracefully to his feet.

"Now," he said, reaching for the shampoo, "let's finish our shower properly, shall we?"

Lucifer nodded, still dazed from his climax. Alastor was right—he’d become insatiable these days. He would have blamed the younger man, but his sex drive out paced Alastor’s by at least double.

Just so happened, he had a partner who seemed to delight in indulging him even when he didn’t want to get off himself.

Lucifer allowed Alastor to maneuver him under the spray, relishing the gentle yet thorough way his lover washed him.

❄️✨☕✨❄️

Later that morning, as they dressed, Lucifer winced, running a hand over his reddened skin.

"I think I'm missing a few layers," he grumbled good-naturedly.

The brunette shrugged, curling his swept bangs with product on his fingers.

Lucifer narrowed his eyes, despite the smile on his lips. “When you said skin care, I thought you meant spa treatments, not scouring.”

Alastor chuckled, adjusting his glasses. "Perhaps that was the real punishment all along," he mused, a hint of mischief in his tone.

“Was not.” Lucifer pouted, but there was no real heat behind it. "You're terrible," he said, unable to keep the fondness from his voice.

"And yet, you wouldn't have me any other way," Alastor replied, pressing a soft kiss to Lucifer's forehead.

Alastor's eyes gleamed with amusement as he stepped back, appraising Lucifer's flushed skin. "I'd say you could use the exfoliation treatment," he quipped, his voice smooth as silk. "It's doing wonders for your complexion."

Lucifer huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. The movement drew attention to the fading marks on his skin, remnants of last night's scene.

"Oh, sure," he grumbled, a petulant edge to his voice. "And I suppose the shower sex was part of my spa package, too?"

A slow, wicked smile spread across Alastor's face. "No, darling," he purred, leaning in close enough that Lucifer could feel the warmth of his breath. "That was just for fun."

The proximity sent a shiver through Lucifer, his body responding despite his feigned irritation. And the fact that he’d come not twenty minutes ago.

He swallowed hard, fighting the urge to close the distance between them.

Alastor's expression softened slightly, a knowing look in his hazel eyes. "Tell me, Lucifer," he said, his tone gentle but probing. "Are you truly upset about your skin, or is there something else on your mind?"

Lucifer's heart skipped a beat. He averted his gaze, suddenly finding the carpet fascinating.

"I don't know what you mean," he mumbled, but even to his own ears, the lie sounded weak.

"Could it be," Alastor continued, his voice measured, "that you're still troubled by my upcoming appointment with Vox?"

Lucifer felt a familiar knot of anxiety tighten in his chest. He wanted to deny it, to prove he was above such petty jealousy, but the words stuck in his throat.

Lucifer grumbled, folding his arms across his chest, acutely aware of the towel hanging precariously low on his hips.

The soft terry cloth felt inadequate armor against the vulnerability he was struggling to contain. "It's not like I have any right to be upset," he muttered, his golden eyes fixed on a point somewhere beyond Alastor's shoulder.

Alastor, meanwhile, was in various stages of dressing. He pulled a crisp white shirt over his shoulders, leaving it unbuttoned as he approached Lucifer.

“You have every right to feel how you feel.” The brunette affirmed, gentle as ever. “We should have discussed this before I agreed to it.”

“It’s not your fault.” Lucifer sighed, running his fingers through his damp hair. “I said to pretend…you’re just better at it than I am.”

"Look at me," Alastor said softly, his fingers gently tilting Lucifer's chin up. Their eyes met, and Lucifer felt himself drowning in the warmth of Alastor's gaze. "I want you to listen carefully, my dear."

Lucifer nodded, barely daring to breathe.

"I have no interest in dating Vox, or anyone else for that matter," Alastor stated, his voice low and intense. "This…arrangement…is purely for appearances. And I won’t be doing it again."

A small part of Lucifer wanted to believe, to let Alastor's words wash away his doubts. But the larger part, the part still raw from his divorce, whispered treacherous thoughts.

"But Vox is younger, more…I don’t know," he found himself saying, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. "Why wouldn't you want—"

Alastor silenced him with a finger to his lips. "Because," he said, leaning in close enough that Lucifer could smell the lingering scent of his cologne, "none of that matters. It's you I want, Lucifer. Only you."

Lucifer searched Alastor's face, finding nothing but sincerity in those hazel eyes.

"I…I know," Lucifer said softly, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "It's just…this is all so new to me."

Alastor's lips quirked into a gentle smile.

"It's new for me too, darling. Which is why," he paused, running a hand through his dark curls, "I'm willing to make compromises to help you feel more secure. I hear that's what relationships are about."

Lucifer couldn't help but chuckle at Alastor's matter-of-fact tone. "So you've heard, huh?"

"Indeed," Alastor replied, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I may be new to this whole relationship business, but I'm a quick study."

With that, Alastor sat on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. Lucifer watched, curiosity piqued, as Alastor seemed to contemplate something.

"You may come to the restaurant to observe the date," Alastor said suddenly, his gaze steady on Lucifer.

Lucifer blinked, sure he had misheard. "I…what?"

"You heard me correctly," Alastor confirmed. "If it would ease your mind, you're welcome to be there."

The offer was tempting, but a part of him hesitated. "I…I didn't know what I was going to do with myself while you were gone," he admitted, fiddling with the edge of his towel. "But I don't want you to think I don't trust you, Alastor. That's not it at all."

Alastor leaned forward, his hazel eyes piercing as they met Lucifer's golden ones. "Yes, I know you," he said softly, his voice a caress. "And I know how you create the worst scenarios in that beautiful mind of yours."

Lucifer felt a flush creep up his neck, warmth blooming in his chest at Alastor's perceptiveness. “It’s not, exactly, beautiful up here.” He rubbed a hand through his hair.

“Did I stutter?”

“No, you didn’t.”

"I want you to be there," Alastor continued, "to see with your own eyes that there's nothing going on. It'll ease those racing thoughts of yours." His lips curled into a playful smirk. "And, well, I do so enjoy having the spotlight on me."

A chuckle escaped Lucifer's lips, some of the tension in his shoulders melting away. "You're impossible, you know that?"

"I've been told," Alastor winked, rising from the bed with fluid grace. He moved to the wardrobe, fingers dancing over his selection of impeccably pressed shirts.

Lucifer watched, a wistful sigh escaping him. "You always look so put-together," he murmured, thinking of his own softened form hidden beneath cozy sweaters.

Alastor paused, turning to face Lucifer with an arched eyebrow. "Is that envy I detect in your voice, my dear?" His tone was teasing, but there was genuine curiosity in his eyes. "Perhaps you'd like to offer your input on my attire for the late-morning?"

Lucifer blinked, surprised by the offer. "You'd…want my opinion?"

"Of course," Alastor said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Your taste is refined, even if you choose to hide it under those adorable sweaters of yours."

Lucifer's heart fluttered at the compliment, pride and nervousness coursing through him as he approached the wardrobe. His fingers trembled slightly as he sifted through Alastor's meticulously organized clothing.

"Well," he began, pulling out a deep burgundy shirt, "this color always looks stunning on you." He held it up against Alastor's chest, admiring how it complemented his rich skin tone. "But…too stunning for Vox."

Alastor's laugh was warm and rich. "Ah, my darling, your jealousy is showing. It's rather endearing."

Lucifer felt his cheeks flush as he continued his selection, choosing a pair of charcoal slacks and a subtly patterned shirt. As he helped Alastor dress, his fingers lingered on each button, savoring the intimacy of the moment.

"You know," Lucifer mused, adjusting Alastor's collar, "I never thought I'd enjoy dressing someone as much as undressing them."

Alastor's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Why, Lucifer, are you saying you'd like to undress me right now?"

"Don't tempt me," Lucifer chuckled, smoothing down Alastor's lapels. "You have a…date to get to, after all."

As Lucifer stepped back to admire his handiwork, Alastor's expression shifted, a predatory gleam entering his eyes. "Speaking of attire," he purred, reaching into a nearby drawer, "I have something special for you to wear today."

Alastor withdrew a sizeable black object.

"Is that…?"

"Oh, I believe you know what this is, my dear," Alastor confirmed, his voice low and rich with promise. "A reminder of who you truly belong to, even as I'm out with Vox."

Alastor's hands were firm yet gentle as he guided Lucifer to bend over the bed. The cool air of the room kissed Lucifer's skin as Alastor pulled the towel away, leaving him utterly bare.

"Alastor," Lucifer breathed, his voice muffled against the bedspread, "it's enormous. I don't think I can—"

"Shh," Alastor soothed, running a hand down Lucifer's spine. "I know exactly what you're capable of, darling. Trust me."

Lucifer felt the cool, slick surface of the plug pressing against his rim. He inhaled sharply, fingers curling into the sheets as Alastor began to work it inside him with agonizing slowness.

"That's it," Alastor murmured, his voice a velvety caress. "You're doing beautifully."

The stretch was intense, bordering on uncomfortable, but Lucifer found himself relaxing into it. Alastor's praise washed over him, easing the tension from his muscles until, with a final push, the plug settled into place.

"Perfect," Alastor declared, helping Lucifer to stand. "Now, why don't you go and have a shave while I arrange your outfit?"

Still a bit dazed, Lucifer nodded and made his way to the bathroom on slightly unsteady legs—feeling the plug with every step.

No doubt, exactl as Alastor wanted.

As the door closed behind him, Alastor turned to Lucifer's suitcase, rifling through the contents with practiced ease.

He sighed indulgently, pulling out Lucifer’s suit for the gala to hang it up by the fireplace. Hoping to smooth out some of the wrinkls.

He pulled out a fine knit green sweater, considering it thoughtfully.

As he shook it out, something small and red tumbled from its folds, landing on the carpet with a soft thud.

Alastor froze, his eyes widening as he recognized the unmistakable shape of a ring box.

Tightness constricted his chest. His confident demeanor cracked, doubt couding his hazel gaze.

Alastor's fingers hovered over the small velvet box. He swallowed hard. Trying to get his hand to work.

"This…can’t be what I think it is." he whispered to himself, his tongue feeling like lead in his mouth.

Alastor's heart hammered against his ribs as he gingerly picked up the box, its weight seeming far heavier than its size would suggest.

He loved Lucifer, that much he knew with certainty.

The older man's gentle nature, his endearing awkwardness, the way he just seemed to need everything Alastor wanted to give.

He hadn’t said the words, even he knew it was too soon. But it didn’t change the soul-deep affection he had for Lucifer. Alastor couldn’t think of it as anything less than love.

But marriage?

The thought sent a surge of panic through Alastor's body.

He didn’t know enough. His recent failures with Lucifer were a testament.

Alastor did not know enough. He was confident with what he knew well. He was a quick study. But he knew how easily he could ruin everything.

The sound of running water from the bathroom snapped Alastor back to reality. He quickly shoved the box back into the suitcase, burying it beneath a pile of clothes. His hands trembled slightly as he smoothed down his shirt, forcing his features into a mask of composure.

"Everything alright out there?" Lucifer called from the bathroom.

Alastor cleared his throat. "Perfectly fine, darling. Just deciding between the blue sweater or the green for you."

As the bathroom door opened, Alastor turned, his trademark smirk firmly in place. But beneath the surface, doubts and fears continued to churn.

And he highly doubted he’d still be able to enjoy brunch on Vox’s dime.

☕ On Ao3✨Become my Arc Reader✨On Tumblr ☕

[darcydarlingdabbles]

At Mid Winter ~ Part 8

RadioApple❄️Human Au/Age Gap✨Top!Dom!Alastor

✨Divorced Dad!Lucifer❄️Explicit~

On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: Eight songs a-singing.

❄️✨☕✨❄️

☕ On Ao3✨Become my Arc Reader✨On Tumblr ☕

Lucifer stepped into the grand ballroom, his breath catching at the sight before him.

Twinkling lights cascaded from the vaulted ceiling, intertwining with lush evergreen garlands that wound their way around ornate columns. Candles flickered in crystal holders, casting a warm glow across the polished wooden floor.

Through the towering windows, snowflakes drifted lazily, a stark contrast to the golden warmth within.

The scent of pine and cinnamon wafted through the air, mingling with the crisp aroma of expensive champagne. Lucifer inhaled deeply, allowing the festive fragrances to momentarily soothe his nerves.

"Quite the spectacle, isn't it?" a voice beside him remarked.

Lucifer turned to see Professor Stolas resplendent in a midnight blue suit, and Alastor was already gone. "Indeed," he replied, forcing a smile. "The university has outdone itself this year.”

As they exchanged pleasantries, Lucifer's gaze drifted across the room. Guests in glittering gowns and impeccably tailored suits mingled, their laughter and animated conversations creating a low, constant hum.

. A string quartet of students in the corner played a lilting melody, the music weaving through the chatter like a silken thread.

Alastor no doubt was already somewhere in the sea of faces. He did have a knack for these sorts of gatherings.

"It is good to see you back, Dr. Morningstar. Is your sabbatical going well?" Professor Stolas inquired, pulling Lucifer's attention back to their conversation.

"Oh, uh," Lucifer murmured, his mind still half-focused on locating Alastor or Charlie. "Yes, uh, it’s gotten better recently."

As he spoke, Lucifer couldn't help but marvel at the opulence surrounding him. The ballroom truly was breathtaking, a testament to the university's prestige and wealth and reputation.

But beneath the sparkling surface, he felt a familiar unease, a sense of not quite belonging despite his position. He’d married into this world.

And it still felt like Lilith’s domain.

The string quartet transitioned into a livelier piece, and couples began to drift towards the dance floor.

Lucifer excused himself from Professor Stolas, drifting towards the bar, grateful for the momentary respite it offered. He grasped a flute of champagne, the cool glass a welcome anchor against the growing discomfort in his chest.

As he turned to face the room, he was immediately accosted by Dean Peter, a man who could be confused for his twin, if it weren’t for the eye color.

"Dr. Morningstar, my good man! Splendid affair, isn't it?" the Dean boomed, clapping him on the shoulder.

Lucifer forced a smile, nodding politely. "Indeed, the university has outdone itself this year." Feeling like a puppet with only so many strings.

"Now, did you hear about the writer in resdency program?" Peter began, his eyes gleaming with barely concealed avarice. “We can charge hopefuls for a summer…”

As the Dean droned on about funding allocations and donor expectations, Lucifer found his attention wandering. The words blurred together, a cacophony of academic jargon and thinly veiled ambition that left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He didn’t miss this part. Endless politicking. Pandering for scraps of prestige.

He took a sip of champagne to mask his grimace.

Unconsciously, Lucifer's hand drifted to his collar, fingers brushing against the soft fabric of his mock turtleneck. He could almost feel the ghost of Alastor's touch beneath, the memory of gentle bites hidden from view.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Lucifer interrupted, suddenly aware of the expectant pause in Peter’s monologue. "You were saying about the…alumni contributions?"

“Oh, the contributions. Always abysmal…”

As the conversation resumed, Lucifer's gaze drifted towards the stage.

Charlie stood there, adjusting the microphone, her pine green suit catching the light. Pride swelled in his chest, momentarily displacing his unease.

Lucifer shifted slightly, the velvet of his blazer—Alastor's choice, of course—brushing against his skin. It was a tangible reminder of the younger man's presence, even in his absence.

His partner was probably charming the socks off every donor in sight, knowing him.

"Lucifer?" Dean Peter’s voice cut through his reverie. "Are you quite alright? You seem…distracted."

Lucifer straightened, forcing his attention back to the conversation at hand. "My apologies, Dean. It's just…the music. The students are quite talented, aren’t they?"

As he dove back into the tedious discussion of university politics, Lucifer couldn't help but long for Alastor's steadying presence.

The night stretched before him, a glittering facade that only served to highlight the growing hollow in his chest.

Across the crowded ballroom, Alastor was in his element.

His rich, melodious laughter carried over the din, drawing the attention of those nearby. He stood at the center of a small group, gesticulating animatedly as he regaled them with a story.

"And then," Alastor said, his eyes twinkling with mischief, "the poor fellow realized he'd been debating Chomsky himself the entire time!"

The cluster of donors and faculty erupted in laughter, clearly charmed by the charismatic student.

Dr. Deerie, the head of the Linguistics department, clapped Alastor on the shoulder.

"Mr. LeBlanc, you're a natural," she beamed. "We should have you at every fundraiser."

Alastor's grin widened, sharp and confident. "You're too kind, Professor. I'm merely enjoying the company of such distinguished guests."

As Alastor's gaze swept the room, it locked briefly with Lucifer's. For a fleeting moment, his ever-present smile softened, a warmth creeping into his eyes that was reserved solely for Lucifer.

Lucifer felt his chest tighten, a mix of pride and longing washing over him.

The moment passed as quickly as it had come. Alastor seamlessly returned his attention to his enraptured audience, leaving Lucifer with a lingering ache and the faintest hint of a smile playing at his lips.

A sleek, silver tray appeared in Lucifer's peripheral vision, interrupting his thoughts. The waiter, impeccably dressed in a crisp white shirt and black bow tie, presented a crystal tumbler filled with an amber liquid.

"A Honey Old Fasion, sir," the waiter murmured discreetly. "Compliments of Mr. LeBlanc."

Lucifer's eyebrows rose slightly. He reached for the glass, his fingers brushing against the cool surface—and the slice of green apple garnishing it.

"Thank you," he said, his voice low. "How did he…?"

"Mr. LeBlanc was quite specific about the blend, sir. He mentioned it was a particular favorite of yours."

Lucifer lifted the glass to his nose, inhaling the rich aroma of aged whiskey mingled with the sweet notes of honey.

Memories flooded back. A warm kitchen at midnight. Sliced green apple. Dripping with honey—

Of course, Alastor remembered. Lucifer could never forget.

"Well," Lucifer said, his lips twitching into a faint smile, "please convey my appreciation to Mr. LeBlanc."

As the waiter nodded and melted back into the crowd, Lucifer took a small sip, savoring the smooth burn and the sweet flavors. His earlier nervousness began to ebb away, replaced by a comforting sense of being looked after.

He resisted the urge to seek out Alastor in the crowd, instead focusing on the gentle weight of the glass in his hand and the warmth blooming in his chest.

It was a tangible reminder of Alastor's presence, a secret shared between them amidst the glittering throng of the fundraiser.

A hush fell over the grand ballroom as Charlie stepped onto the stage, her sparkling suit catching the light and scattering it like stardust.

Lucifer's breath caught in his throat at the sight of his daughter, poised and radiant.

Nearby, Vaggie settled at the piano, her fingers hovering over the keys, ready to begin.

Lucifer leaned against a nearby column, cradling his whiskey. "She looks beautiful," he murmured to himself, pride and melancholy coloring his voice.

As the first notes of the piano filled the air, Charlie's clear, rich voice soared above the crowd.

"Have yourself a merry little Christmas,

Let your heart be light…"

The familiar holiday melody, infused with Charlie's effervescent charm, washed over the audience. Lucifer watched as hardened academics and wealthy donors alike softened, their faces lighting up with genuine smiles.

His daughter had that wonderful effect on people. She inspired people.

Just like her mother…

Charlie's voice swelled as she reached the chorus, her infectious joy spreading through the room like wildfire.

Even the most stoic guests found themselves swaying to the music.

Lucifer's gaze swept across the enraptured crowd, pausing briefly on Alastor. The younger man's usually sharp features had softened, a look of genuine admiration in his eyes as he watched Charlie perform.

For a moment, Lucifer allowed himself to imagine a future where they could all be together, a family.

Lucifer's mind drifted, painting a vivid picture of a future he scarcely dared to hope for.

He imagined a cozy Christmas morning, sunlight streaming through frost-kissed windows.

Alastor, hair tousled from sleep, padding barefoot into the kitchen. The rich aroma of coffee mingling with the scent of cinnamon rolls baking in the oven.

Charlie, her laughter echoing through the house as she and Vaggie decorated a towering pine tree in the living room.

Lucifer saw himself wrapped in a soft cardigan, grading papers at the dining table. Alastor would sneak up behind him, pressing a steaming mug into his hands and dropping a kiss on his temple. "Merry Christmas, darling," he'd murmur, voice still rough with sleep.

The scene shifted to a summer afternoon in the backyard.

A grill sizzling with burgers and corn on the cob. Alastor, ever the showman, flipping patties with unnecessary flourish.

Charlie and her friends splashing in the pool, their laughter carried on the warm breeze. Lucifer would watch from the patio, a cold beer in hand, marveling at the simple joy of it all.

He imagined quiet evenings spent reading in companionable silence, Lucifer’s head resting in Alastor’s lap as he absentmindedly ran fingers through his hair.

Weekend brunches with Charlie and Vaggie, the table laden with Alastor's Creole favorites.

Heated debates over literature that inevitably dissolved into laughter and kisses.

But as the daydream faded, reality crept back in.

Lucifer's brow furrowed, his grip tightening on the whiskey glass. The age gap between them suddenly felt like a chasm.

What did Alastor, brilliant and ambitious, want for his future?

Did those plans include settling down with a man nearly twice his age?

They really shouldn’t

Lucifer knew himself. He was a white-picket fence kind of guy, content with routine and stability. He'd dated one woman—Lilith—and married her, building a life together over two decades.

The thought of starting over, of potentially holding Alastor back from his dreams, gnawed at him.

It was too soon to have this conversation, wasn't it? But the need to know clawed at Lucifer's insides.

He wanted to ask Alastor about his hopes, his plans.

Did they align with Lucifer's own desire for a quiet, settled life?

Or would Alastor eventually crave more excitement, more freedom than Lucifer could offer?

As Charlie's song drew to a close, Lucifer's gaze drifted back to Alastor. The younger man was applauding enthusiastically, his eyes shining with admiration.

Lucifer's heart swelled with affection.

As the final notes faded, Lucifer's hands came together in enthusiastic applause, his earlier discomfort melting away like snow in spring.

His smile, genuine and warm, stretched across his face as he watched at his daughter with undisguised pride.

"Brava, Charlie!" he called out, his voice carrying over the swell of applause. "Absolutely magnificent!"

Charlie beamed from the stage, her golden curls shimmering as she took a small bow.

Lucifer was left marveling at the confident young woman his daughter had become.

He remembered the shy little girl who once hid behind his legs at social gatherings.

From the corner of his eye, Lucifer caught a glimpse of movement in the shadows.

Turning slightly, he saw Alastor leaning against a pillar, partially obscured by a large potted fir. The usually sharp-eyed brunette’s expression had softened, a look of genuine admiration gracing his features as he watched Charlie.

For a brief moment, Alastor's gaze shifted, meeting Lucifer's across the room.

The younger man's lips quirked into a small, almost tender smile before he quickly schooled his features back into their usual mask of cool detachment.

Lucifer felt a warmth bloom in his chest, one that had nothing to do with the drink he'd been sipping.

As the applause faded and the crowd began to disperse, Lucifer found himself adrift in a sea of tuxedos and evening gowns.

He had barely taken two steps when a weathered hand clasped his shoulder.

"Lucifer, my friend!" Professor Mamon's booming voice carried over the din. "It's been far too long."

Lucifer plastered on a polite smile, turning to face the elderly academic. "Professor, what a pleasure."

"Do you remember that symposium in Vienna?" Emerson's eyes twinkled with nostalgia. "Must have been, oh, twenty years ago now?"

"How could I forget?" Lucifer replied, his mind already wandering. His gaze drifted across the room, seeking a familiar silhouette.

Mamon continued, oblivious to Lucifer's distraction. "The way you challenged that stuffy old German's theory on demonic hierarchies—brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!"

"You're too kind," Lucifer murmured, finally spotting Alastor near the bar.

Their eyes met briefly, and Alastor raised his glass in a subtle toast.

Lucifer felt a familiar flutter in his chest, even across a crowded ballroom.

"—and then there was that delightful little café," Mamon prattled on. "What was it called again?"

"Mm, Dante’s, I believe," Lucifer offered absently, his attention still fixed on Alastor.

The younger man's lips curved into a faint smirk, clearly aware of Lucifer's predicament.

Enjoying the show, huh? Lucifer huffed, both exasperated and oddly charmed by Alastor's amusement.

"Yes, that's it!" Mamon exclaimed. "My word, the sachertorte there was divine…"

As the professor launched into another anecdote, Lucifer suppressed a sigh, torn between frustration at being trapped in conversation and a longing to be at Alastor's side.

The night was still young.

A rail-thin gentleman in an ill-fitting tuxedo sidled up to Lucifer and Mamon, his face flushed from too much champagne. "Ah, Professor Magne! Just the man I wanted to see."

Lucifer tensed, recognizing the donor's overly familiar tone. "Mr. Trench, how lovely to—"

“Magne?” Mamon muttered. “Wasn’t that your ex-wife’s—”

"Oh yes. Dreadful business, this divorce of yours," Trench interrupted, his words slightly slurred. "Always thought you and Lilith made such a striking pair."

The air seemed to vanish from Lucifer's lungs. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

"Tell me," Trench pressed on, oblivious to Lucifer's discomfort, "was it the late nights at the office? Or perhaps a younger woman caught your eye?"

Lucifer's collar felt suffocatingly tight. He tugged at it, desperately searching for an escape. "I... well, you see..."

"Now, now," Mamon interjected, but Trench steamrolled over him.

"No judgment here, old boy. These things happen. But between us," he leaned in conspiratorially, "how are you holding up?"

Lucifer's gaze darted around the room, the faces of the other guests suddenly seeming to loom closer, their voices a cacophonous buzz. He stammered, "It's…it's really quite…"

His eyes landed on Alastor across the ballroom. The young man was effortlessly charming a group of faculty members, his posture relaxed, his smile genuine.

Lucifer felt a pang of envy.How did he make it look so easy—he really wished Alastor were right next to him.

"Professor Magne?" Trench’s voice cut through his thoughts. "You were saying?"

“It’s Morningstar. Dr. Morningstar,” Lucifer snapped, forcing a brittle smile he hoped made up for it. "My apologies, gentlemen. If you'll excuse me, I believe I'm needed elsewhere."

He retreated hastily, leaving Trench and Mamon exchanging puzzled glances.

Suddenly, the ambient chatter of the ballroom faded as the lights dimmed.

Lucifer's attention, along with every other pair of eyes in the room, was drawn to the stage.

There, bathed in the warm glow of the spotlights, stood Alastor.

Lucifer's breath caught in his throat. Alastor cut a striking figure in his perfectly tailored suit, the burgundy suit a bold splash of color against the black of his shirt.

The young man's posture exuded a quiet confidence that seemed to command the entire room.

As Alastor made his way to the grand piano, his movements fluid and graceful. The hush that fell over the crowd was almost palpable, a collective holding of breath in anticipation.

Lucifer’s eyes remained locked on Alastor as the young man settled himself at the piano, long fingers poised above the keys.

The first notes rang out, clear and haunting.

Alastor's fingers danced across the keys with effortless grace, coaxing forth a melody that seemed to weave its way through the very air of the ballroom.

Lucifer found himself holding his breath, mesmerized by the sight of Alastor lost in the music.

As the piano solo reached its crescendo, Alastor seamlessly transitioned into a smooth, jazzy rhythm. And then, he began to sing.

His voice was rich and velvety normally, but the effect was only magnified, wrapping around each note with a warmth that seemed to caress the ears of everyone present.

“Merry Christmas, baby,

Sure did treat me nice…”

Lucifer's lips parted in a soft gasp. He'd had no idea Alastor could sing like this.

As Alastor's performance continued, Lucifer felt a swell of pride rising within him. But there was something else too, something deeper and more complex. Admiration, certainly.

Affection, undoubtedly. But also a longing that took him by surprise with its intensity.

He wanted to know every part of this man. Every secret. Every dream.

In that moment, Lucifer knew he was utterly, hopelessly falling for Alastor.

Lucifer's fingers tightened around his glass as he watched Alastor, a maelstrom of emotions churning within him. The performance was mesmerizing, but it left him feeling strangely adrift.

Each note Alastor played, each lyric he sang, revealed a depth Lucifer hadn't fully appreciated before. It was as if a veil had been lifted, exposing layers of talent and complexity he'd only glimpsed.

"He's quite remarkable, isn't he?" a colleague murmured beside him.

Lucifer nodded, not trusting his voice. Pride swelled in his chest, but it was tinged with an unsettling insecurity.

As the final notes faded, thunderous applause erupted.

Alastor rose from the piano, bowing deeply with a flourish that was pure showmanship. His eyes found Lucifer's for a brief, electric moment before he melted into the crowd.

The string quartet struck up a lively tune, and the floor began to fill with swaying couples.

Lucifer remained rooted in place, his mind reeling.

"Another drink, sir?" a waiter asked.

"Please," Lucifer replied, suddenly aware of how dry his throat had become. He watched Alastor effortlessly mingling, charm personified, and felt a twinge of envy at his ease.

Belonging here in a wa Lucifer never had. Still didnt, after 20 years.

The ballroom swirled with movement, a kaleidoscope of elegant gowns and tailored suits.

Lucifer's eyes, however, sought only one figure. As if drawn by an invisible thread, his gaze locked with Alastor's across the room.

The music seemed to swell, the rest of the world fading away.

He didn't care if eyebrows would raise at the sight of them dancing together. In that moment, all he wanted was to be near Alastor, to feel the warmth of his presence.

As if reading his thoughts, Alastor began to move through the crowd, his movements fluid and purposeful. Lucifer's breath caught in his throat as they drew closer.

"Good evening, Professor," Alastor's voice was low and honeyed as they neared each other, "you look positively radiant this evening."

Lucifer felt a flush creep up his neck. "And you…that performance was incredible. I had no idea you—"

A loud creak interrupted him as the ballroom doors swung open.

The music faltered, conversations hushed, and all eyes turned to the entrance.

Lucifer froze, his world tilting on its axis. He turned slowly, disbelief etched on his features, to see his daughter staring wide-eyed at the doorway, Vaggie's hand clasped tightly in hers.

In the sudden quiet, Charlie's voice carried clearly across the room. "Mom?"

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A/n: do you have any idea how much I love cliffhangers? but hey, at least you'll find out tomorrow~