See You In Hell

by Queen_of_Hell1126

Summary:

A Satanist believer in life, you'd hoped to meet Lucifer who'd fight for the sinners...but what happens when he's not what you expected?

Notes:

CW: Eventual Smut, Slowburn. Modern Satanism beliefs (no cannibalism of children type of shit sorry😔), Religious Themes & Imagery. Canon–Typical Violence, Reader has shitty life when alive, Human! reader death, Angst/no Comfort (in this part). Reader manipulates for her own benefit (she’s an overlord, smh)

Chapter 1: Chapter One

It had rained the night before, and the sidewalks still shimmered with thin puddles that reflected the colourless sky. You walked with your hands in pockets, head bowed.

Another rejection email this morning. Another unpaid bill. Another voicemail from your mother, heavy with disappointment even in its silence. You hadn’t answered. What was the point? The world had grown dull around the edges—everything grey, everything pointless. You were only out for a walk because you couldn't stand the inside of your apartment anymore. 

That’s when you saw it.

A crooked, weather-worn table stood at the end of a cracked driveway, soaked cardboard signs taped to its legs: FREE STUFF in uneven marker. The yard sale was clearly long abandoned. Most of what remained was garbage…a chipped coffee mug, broken costume jewellery, yellowed paperback novels with curling covers. But something tugged at you as you trudged ahead.

Wedged beneath a stack of waterlogged magazines was a book. It sat right in the centre, dry despite the damp area, like the rain had avoided it on purpose. Black as soot, no title on the spine or author. Just an inverted pentagram etched into the front in faded gold. 

You opened the cover. The pages were handwritten in fluid, elegant, crimson ink, almost... alive. You looked around. No one was watching. No one would miss it.

It started small.

You read the first chapter that night, sitting on your bed with the book propped in your lap. The words didn’t ask you to repent. They didn’t tell you were broken. They didn’t demand blind obedience, or sacrifice, or guilt. Instead, they looked you dead in the eye and said: You are not evil for wanting. It taught you to believe in yourself, and all the flaws that made you human. To worship yourself first.

By the end of the week, you’d underlined passages, scribbled thoughts in the margins, whispered some of the manifestation rituals and lines.   

And slowly, so subtly you didn’t notice at first, things began to change.

You started saying no . To your mother’s guilt-laced messages. To your boss’s passive-aggressive overtime requests. To the voice in your head that told you were worthless if you weren't constantly bleeding for others.

Your laughter came back—sharp, unapologetic. Dared to look happy without apologizing for it.

Death was a whisper. But when you opened your eyes again…

The sky was red, like an endless sunset bled out. Neon lights flickered with glitchy menace, towering buildings leaned at impossible angles, and demonic figures strolled by as casually as humans in a shopping mall. Somewhere distant, a scream turned into laughter. Gunfire sounded like music.

Hell. You had made it . No chains dragged you down or demons who wanted to throw you in flames. For the first time, you were home.

You didn’t become an Overlord through brute strength alone. That was never your style.

You watched first. Studied the other overlords around you. How they schemed, how they fought, how they fell.You played the long game. Befriended sinners, made them feel safe. Gained their trust, learned their secrets. You brokered deals between rival factions, only to sabotage both and seize the aftermath for yourself. 

You didn’t need to shout to be feared. You let others speak for you. Let paranoia do your work. By the time you claimed your territory, you hadn’t just proven yourself ruthless. You’d proven yourself untouchable .

_____________________________________

Your assistant, an imp in a pressed black suit, rattled off tasks at a speed that made your temples throb. "—and the blood-trade deal with the Sloth Ring still needs your seal. Oh! And the emissary from Sector 7 is furious that you flayed his envoy last week—"

"He interrupted me, " you said dryly.

"—still, they’re demanding reparations." She continued onwards, scrolling through her tablet.“And your new tax policies have incited a small rebellion in the Lower Slums. Very passionate. Pitchforks. Fire. The works.”

“How quaint,” you murmured. “Tell them I’m touched, and send a response.”

“A… response?”

“Impale him. Let’s see him respawn after that.”

The imp shrugged and typed rapidly. You leaned your cheek against your knuckles, expression unreadable. This was the part of ruling you loathed—dealing with the stupidity of lesser sinners. Before your assistant could launch into another rant about soul quotas, your door slammed open with a thunderous crack. A sinner stumbled in, panting, eyes wild. Your assistant beside you snarled, wings flaring. “How dare you barge in unannounced!”

You recognized the sinner, one of the spies you had in every district.

“Speak,” you commanded, your voice low but impossible to disobey.

“We found him, ma’am. Lucifer Morningstar,” she said. “He’s chosen to remain at the Hotel for the time being. To assist his daughter. Which complicates things.”

Your mind fixated on it instantly. Your pulse spiked, but you kept your face neutral. Lucifer. The Morning Star. The First Rebel. The one whose name you had whispered in every prayer when the world above had turned its back on you. When you were alone. You had whispered his name not in reverence, but in solidarity. You both were seen as social outcasts, always kept at the side-lines. You wanted to know…did he feel the same rage as you? Was their grief identical?

You had never seen him, not once since you arrived. So you had wanted—selfishly and hopelessly—to meet him. You had almost given up, and you had come to theorize that maybe Hell was a living entity and it was protecting its king. 

Was he still a dreamer? Still infuriatingly brilliant, and beautiful in the way only fallen things could be?

Now you had a way in. A reason to be in his orbit. You smiled, and felt alive more than ever. "Clear my schedule; I have a visit to make."

_____________________________________

The Hazbin Hotel exterior was a tall, elaborate amalgamation of arched windows and turrets. It was the princess herself who opened the door. “Hi there!” Charlie chirped, turning with a wide, happy grin. “Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! Are you here for… redemption?” she offered, hopeful.

That word always came with a foul taste. You arched a brow, amused. “Redemption? No, darling. I didn’t come here to seek salvation. I don’t beg for anything from heaven. Hell is my home.”

Charlie blinked. “Oh! Sorry—I just thought, since our guests—”

You waved dismissively. “I’m here as a patron.”

Charlie’s mouth opened, closed, then opened again. “A... patron?”

“Yes, yes. Your hotel is….utterly fascinating.” You walked ahead. “You’ve made quite the splash, and well, I love where the action is. And I wouldn’t mind killing exorcist filth myself.”

Charlie regained her composure as best she could, straightening her jacket and stepping ahead with you. “Well, I—um—thank you! I mean, wow! If you don’t mind me asking–”

“Charlie,” Vaggie said sharply, her voice low but insistent. “Can I talk to you? Now.”

Charlie looked over, startled. “Can it wait a second?”

“No,” Vaggie said, her gaze flicking towards you. “It really can’t.”

Charlie gave you an apologetic glance. “Excuse me—just a moment.”

You only gave a graceful nod. Charlie followed Vaggie a few feet away toward the stairs. Not out of earshot, but just far enough to pretend it was private.

“What is it?” Charlie whispered.

“That’s her ,” Vaggie said, her voice tight. “You know who that is, right?”

Charlie blinked. “I mean… no?”

“That’s the Overlord who took over that chaotic district without a single army and made it her own, a feat no one has ever achieved. She’s manipulative, calculated, and terrifyingly efficient. No one knows how she got to where she is so fast. Some say she made a deal with something worse. Others say she is that something.”

“But she wants to be a patron,” she whispered. “Isn’t that good? ”

“No, Charlie,” Vaggie cut in. “It means she wants something. She doesn’t set foot anywhere unless there’s leverage to gain.”

Charlie chewed her lip, clearly torn. “She hasn’t done anything wrong…”

“Yet,” Vaggie snapped. “You want my advice? Send her away. Nicely. Now. Before she decides to get interested. Because once she’s interested, she stays. ”

Charlie looked back again. Your eyes met Charlie’s across the room and you smiled, not cruelly, just knowingly. But still, she said, “No. We don’t turn people away, Vaggie. If she wants to be here, we let her. That’s the point.”

Charlie turned and walked back towards you, heart pounding. She wasn’t naïve but still… she believed. When Charlie finally returned, still smiling, if a little stiff around the edges.

“Would it be too forward to ask for a tour?” you asked. 

Charlie perked up immediately. “Oh! Sure! That’d be wonderful. I’d love to show you what we’re building here.”

You offered a gracious nod. “Lead the way, then.”

“Well, well!” came a voice as the shadows manifested. “Isn’t this a surprise!”

Charlie froze mid-step. A familiar radio-static chuckle fizzled through the air as Alastor stepped into view, smile stretched wide. You turned with the same calm grace, expression unreadable, save for the faintest curve of interest on your lips. “Ah, the famous Radio Demon. I was wondering where you’d crawl out after seven years.”

Alastor’s grin twitched, just slightly. 

Charlie laughed nervously. “You two know each other?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Alastor said smoothly. “We’ve danced around each other a time or two. Power attracts power, after all. Though some of us do prefer to announce ourselves.”

You gave a soft, amused smile. “And some of us don’t need to.”

Charlie looked between them, increasingly unsure if this was a joke or something far more dangerous.

“I must say,” Alastor continued, tone still light, “it’s charming that you’ve taken an interest in our humble little rehabilitation effort. Not quite your usual flavor, though. Redemption always struck me as far too... tender for your palate.”

“I have varied tastes,” you replied. “And a fondness for lost causes.” Your smile was saccharine sweet. “Anyhow, Charlie needs more people to have her back after the last extermination attempt. And after your display of ‘battle’ with Adam, let's just say…that wouldn’t be me.”

Charlie felt the air grow a little colder. Not freezing but sharp, like the moment before a storm breaks. She quickly stepped between them, smiling tightly. “Okay! So, I see you two are… acquainted. That’s great. Really great. But, uh, we were just about to start the tour, so—”

“I wouldn’t dream of interrupting,” Alastor said, bowing low with a mock flourish. “Please. Show our mysterious benefactor around.”

His smile sharpened as he straightened. He vanished into the hall, a trail of static humming in his wake. You turned to Charlie, expression once again composed. “I’m beginning to like this place already.”

__________________________________

The muffled sound of their conversation faded as they moved deeper into the hotel. Back in the lobby, silence lingered for a beat longer than it should have. “Okay, what the hell just happened?” Angel Dust muttered, eyes still fixed on the empty hallway. “Did I just watch two Overlords flirt or declare war?”

Niffty popped her head up from behind a nearby couch she had been scrubbing furiously just moments earlier. “I don’t think that was flirting,” she said, blinking. “The pretty lady looked ready to slit Alastor’s throat.”

Husk, who had been quietly nursing something strong in a stained glass, glanced up with a grunt. “She’s trouble. Big kind.”

Angel leaned forward, expression sharpening. “So what’s the play? She’s classy, scary, the whole femme fatale thing. But what’s she doing here? Nobody drops here for charity.”

“She said she was a patron,” Niffty raised her hand as if answering a teacher.

“Right,” Angel said, eyes narrowing. “Because Overlords are always just feeling generous. I give it three days before something explodes.”

“Three?” Husk scoffed. “You’re generous.”

“I try.”

*

Charlie was still speaking. You nodded absently, gaze roving past half-cleaned windows and dusty corners. Then Charlie’s face lit up, brighter than you'd seen. “Dad!”

The word rang out like a bell. Your heartbeat spiked. Finally.

Lucifer.

Your mind spiralled inward like a lock turning with a perfect key. This was why you’d come. You had imagined this more times than you could count. But what you got was—

“Mmnhhgh…”

Lucifer shuffled out of a side hallway, yawning like he was just roused from a hangover. His hair was tousled in wild blond tufts, sticking up in odd angles like he’d fought a pillow and lost. He wore a duck-print loose shirt with matching pyjama pants. In one hand was a coffee mug that read, Duck Daddy .

He blinked blearily at Charlie. “Did someone say breakfast?” he mumbled.

Lucifer raised the mug to his lips and took a long, grating sip.

You stood still, frozen with a poise born of sheer will. Internally, something in you reeled. Your anticipation twisted like a knife. This was him ?

Charlie gestured between them eagerly. “Dad, this is _________,  And she wants to help the hotel!”

This... this was it?

He hadn’t even looked at you properly. You’d heard rumours, of course. That it was Lucifer who allowed the extermination of sinners, but you’d chosen to find an excuse for it, that maybe he was pressured or something more was at play. But now that you’d seen him, you knew it in your bones that he didn’t care. 

And you hated him for it. 

You’d imagined yourself by his side. Your divine purpose. But he was just a man. It wasn’t that you had expected perfection , no. But this disinterest, this casual disregard, made you feel as though staring at a faded replica.

“Forgive me,” you said quietly. “Would you mind if I stepped out? I just need a moment. Alone.”

Charlie blinked. “Oh—of course! Um, do you want someone to—?”

“No. Thank you.” You tried not to run away.

*

“Did I say something?” Lucifer asked, scratching his head. 

Charlie frowned. “No… it wasn’t that. She looked… upset. Disappointed.”

Lucifer’s brow furrowed. He hadn’t even introduced himself properly. Just… waddled in like a fool.

He let out a long breath through his nose and rubbed a hand over his face. Here he was again. Upsetting Charlie’s first patron. Making a bad impression. Failing, once more, to be the Lucifer Morningstar that anyone expected. He had promised himself that he would help Charlie now that he was staying with her. But it was easier said than done. He couldn’t find the motivation to wake up from the bed, or create anything new and though he wanted to help his daughter, the idea of redeeming sinners was still absurd to him… 

You had looked at him . Seen him and left. He let out a slow, humourless breath. Why did it sting? He hadn’t even said anything. His mind spiralled inward, dark and familiar. The voice was always waiting there. They always leave, eventually. 

He hadn’t even wanted to come down this morning. But Charlie had asked. Come down, Dad. Say hello. Try.

He was always trying, wasn’t he? Trying to believe in her dream. Trying to support her. Trying to pretend he still had the spark she thought was buried.

But in truth? He believed in his daughter, of course. But these sinners ? He had fought and pleaded for them. For their right to choose. To create. To love freely whoever they chose.

And they spat in that freedom. They killed and lied and committed unspeakable acts. Turned free will into rot. He was stuck in a cage of his own making, watching them ruin everything all over again.

Notes:

Both Lucifer and Reader are going to work through their shit, trust me. I’ve researched satanism to the best of my ability, and if you want to read more on it, read here.
Inspired by this post
on my tumblr as well: @queenofmorningstar do check it out!
Do leave kudos and comments cuz it fuels my soul  And becuz I’ve praise kink like everyone else

Chapter 2: Chapter II

Summary:

Lucifer and your bonding time gets a fatal blow.

Notes:

Canon-typical Violence. Reader is Injured. Reader has cryokinesis (ice) powers for plot reasons. Striker (Helluva Boss)

The morning in Hell was a strange thing. There was no soft light spilling through the windows. Just a dull red glow filtering in through the curtains. You looked over the Pentagram City, hands fisted on your balcony. You had come for him . Lucifer. The first and only being you’d ever truly believed in.

Your entire life, that belief had been your anchor. Through alienation, through rage, through the sharp sting of being othered, your faith in him had been the thing that kept you from being crushed under the weight of expectations.

You swallowed hard. It was foolish, you knew, to have built so much on an image. But wasn’t that what belief was ? A flame you held in your chest and fed with hope? You should leave. Go back to your district. You didn’t need to be here.

Except…

You’d wanted so badly to stand beside him. To matter to him. To be seen by him—not as another damned soul—but as someone who understood. The worst part wasn’t the awkwardness. Or the silence. Or even the let-down. The worst part was the grief. Grieving a version of him that had never existed—except in your head.

The shadows in the corner of the room began to stir. You didn’t flinch. You didn’t need to look to know who it was.  No footsteps. No fanfare. Just the eerie quiet of something long used to moving unseen.

“Ma’am,” came the low rasp of your spy.

You turned, calm and sharp. “You’re late.”

The spy straightened. His face was mostly hidden, but the tension in his stance betrayed urgency.

“Well?”

“There’s been movement,” he said. “In your district. The Markets. Word spread fast that you’d left… and the roaches started crawling out.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Who?”

“No name worth remembering. He’s putting up a trap; you’d sawed through his horns through two years ago. Apparently, he’s forgotten the taste of fear.”

Your lip curled. Hell had a way of never staying still. When the cat went away, the mice start to play.

“And?” you said coldly.

“He’s rallying remnants,” the spy said. “Broken gangs, failed lords, exiles. All bottom feeders, and your enemies.”

Your laugh was bitter and low. Well, that does it. You’ve to return. These bitches won’t stand still otherwise. “I will return shortly. My assistant…?” 

“She has completed the protocol you put in these kinds of situations. We have all the sinners under your employ armed and ready.”

The spy only nodded once, and vanished.

You started to prepare yourself,  strapping on your boots, slow and methodical, each buckle clicked into place like it might anchor your resolve. You fastened the last strap of bracer, testing the weight of it with a flex of your wrist.

A knock interrupted your thoughts. Three taps. Slightly uneven. Hesitant. You opened the door and came face to face with Lucifer, adjusting his top hat. “OH SHIT–” he said, quickly standing straight. “Uh – Hi! Hello.”

You arched your brow. “Good morning, your majesty.”

“Yes! Right. I am. That’s me.” He cleared his throat.

There was a beat.

You didn’t say anything. Just stared, guarded but curious. He took that as permission to continue, fidgeting with something behind his back.

“I just wanted to, um… apologize,” he said. “For yesterday. I was a bit—well, a lot—off my game. Normally I’d make a much grander entrance. Maybe some fireworks. Dancing goats. An organ solo.”

You blinked, slowly. “Dancing goats, yes. Very…attractive. Well, sire, I’m kinda busy–”

“I’m serious!” he insisted, chuckling nervously. “I granted one of my summoners his wish when he made his goats dance instead of slaughtering them. Which, honestly, isn’t it better? Anyways…what was I saying?”

You shook your head. “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

“Oh ho, yes!” He hesitated… then pulled the object from behind him with the dramatics of a magician revealing his final trick. “Ta-da!”

He presented you with… a rubber duck. Bright yellow. You stared at it.

“It’s not just any duck,” Lucifer said, beaming. “This is the one and only magic-tastical backflipping rubber duck! Ha ha! That spits fire! Patent pending.”

He flicked it, and the duck squeaked . Then it backflipped in his hand and let out a tiny puff of harmless but impressively red fire.

You blinked again. He looked so genuinely proud of it, and it was contagious. Somehow, you were proud of him too.

“I enchanted it myself,” he said, lowering his voice like he was sharing state secrets. “It detects hostile intent within ten meters, and bites people if they get too close. Very reliable.”

You stared at the absurd little creature. Then back at him. “...You’re giving me a duck.”

“A magic duck,” he corrected. “To help you in anything. You know. Protection. Fire support. Emotional support, if needed.”

The smile was slow, involuntary. A slight curve of your lips. But it was there. Lucifer froze.

His heart stuttered so hard— damn that traitorous organ — actually fluttered. Like wings beating against his ribs. Oh no. You were smiling. At him . Abort mission.

“Well, great! Wonderful! That’s—duck received!” he blurted, spinning on his heel with a flustered laugh. “ You look very stabby. Impeccably stabby. Love the suit! Big fan of murder!”

He practically bolted down the hall.

You stood there in the doorway, duck in hand, not believing what had just happened, but…the smile lingered as you put it near your table. You ran a gloved hand through your hair and turned back to put on some more knives, when another knock came — lighter, more rhythmic. 

“Come in,” you said. Charlie peeked inside with her usual hopeful glow, holding a clipboard and an excited little bounce in her step. “Hey! I was wondering if you’d like to join us? We’re about to start a new activity — it’s kind of silly, but it’s meant to help with trust building. There are pillows involved. It’s… uh, interpretive.”

The smile was genuine. The optimism in her eyes was a little too bright, like she was trying extra hard today. You offered a small, respectful shake of your head. “I appreciate the offer, princess. But I have other responsibilities.”

Charlie’s face fell, only slightly and she nodded. “Right. Of course. It’s just, um, it could help ease you into things here?”

You nearly laughed, but caught yourself.  Instead, you offered the same polite smile you’d mastered long before death. “I’m afraid duty calls.”

You walked past Charlie gently, making your way down the winding staircase. Charlie scrambled to follow, clipboard hugged to her chest. “Maybe just stay for the first five minutes? You don’t have to participate if you don’t want to. It’s just… everyone’s downstairs, and it’d be nice to show them we’re all trying. Together.”

They reached the bottom steps. The hotel lobby came into view. Niffty dusting something that didn’t need dusting. Angel Dust lounging across two chairs like he owned them. Husk nursing a drink, clearly done with everything. Vaggie pacing as usual. Alastor smiled too broadly to be trustworthy.

And Lucifer. He straightened the moment he saw you, hand rising instinctively to smooth his already-perfect hair. 

“I’m grateful for your hospitality,” you said, addressing Charlie with usual poise. “But my district has become vulnerable while I’m gone. Sinners there need my help, and duty is a noble cause. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Charlie hesitated. Angel raised an eyebrow. Alastor’s smile didn’t falter but his head tilted with interest. Lucifer clenched his fist.

“I… guess that’s true,” Charlie finally said. 

You nodded once. “Then you understand.”

You moved to the door. You didn’t hear him approach, but felt the flicker of magic behind you before his voice tumbled out, rushed and slightly winded. “Wait!”

You turned slightly, just enough to glance over your shoulder.

“You’re… leaving,” he said, slightly breathless.

“Yes,” you said evenly.

“Right.” He rubbed the back of his neck, swaying on his heels. “Of course. Yes. That’s… that’s what doors are for. But I had a thought. A terrible one, really. Absolutely ludicrous.”

You raised your brows. “…What?”

Lucifer paused. Drew in a breath and then, brightly he said, “I’d like to come with you!”

You stared at him. The door behind you clicked back into place as you released it, stunned. “You,” you said carefully, “want to come… to my territory?”

“Yes!” he said, with far too much enthusiasm. “You’re going to help your people. Very valiant. Very noble. Very… uncharacteristically decent for Hell. And I thought — maybe — I could lend a hand.”

A beat. Silence. No. Your mind rejected the idea instantly. He hated sinners.

Lucifer Morningstar hadn’t lifted a finger to help a single soul in centuries. He let this system of eternal punishment be, and then abandoned all of them. Abandoned you.

Lucifer cleared his throat and straightened his collar. “I just… look, not that you need any help — clearly, you’ve got the whole ‘powerful overlord who strikes fear into all’ thing down. Very chic. Very commanding.”

“You don’t care about sinners,” you said, not cold, just… numb. “You gave up on them.”

Lucifer blinked, his smile faltering at the edges. And in that moment, behind all the glitz and theatrics, you saw the weariness. He took a small step forward, lowering his voice. “I did. I gave up a long time ago.” They didn’t change. I thought they would. I wanted to believe in them… but all they did was prove Heaven right. The words hung in his throat, unspoken. “But,” he said instead, forcing his voice lighter, “maybe it’s time I… un-give-up.”

Your brow twitched. That wasn’t a word.

Lucifer fumbled onward. “You’re doing something good, which I believe most Overlords wouldn’t–” Well, you weren’t being entirely selfless either. You wanted to maintain your authority, but also without you, it would be all chaos again, leading to more death.

He tried a smile. It didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I thought maybe I could start small. Just… help you. Help them. Or at least try.”

You didn’t respond immediately, your thoughts were racing. Why now? Why pretend to care? Is this for Charlie? For himself? Or maybe, he was seeking his redemption too.

You searched his face for a trace of mockery. There was none. You crossed your arms. “You don’t have to do this, sire.”

He let out a breath. “No. But maybe I should. And please, call me Lucifer.”

Another beat of silence passed between them. Then finally, you stepped away from the door. “Very well, your majesty , follow along.”

You still didn’t call him by his name, but Lucifer thought he would make you say it eventually. Lucifer lit up. “Oh ho! A partnership! Our partnership!”

“I’m not calling this a partnership.”

“Temporary alliance, then. Battle buddies?”

You rolled your eyes and moved past him, but he caught the faint curve of your smile as you moved ahead.

Charlie watched them go, blinking.

“Well,” she whispered to Vaggie, “that’s… happening.”

__________________________________________

You regretted it within the first ten minutes. Not because of some grand mistake or sudden betrayal, but because Lucifer Morningstar, King of Hell, had apparently not walked the damned streets in centuries… and was treating everything like a carnival attraction.

“Ooooh! What’s that ?” he asked, pointing with both hands toward a neon-lit sculpture of a tentacled goat climbing out of a coffee mug.

“A cursed espresso stand,” you said flatly.

“Amazing! What a creative twist!” he beamed. “You know, back in the early days, I wanted more artistry in these districts. Glad to see someone listened—what’s that ?”

“Bone polishing service.”

“And that ?”

“Overlord-themed ice cream parlour.”

“And that?”

“That’s a dumpster, sire.”

“Oh.”

You sighed.

The back alleys of your district spread ahead of them in crooked angles and sharp shadows. Lucifer practically skipped beside you.

He still wore his coat and vest as usual, though he told you he’d conjured a little charm that will make him appear as any sinner. His hands were clasped behind his back, his steps light and gleeful.

He suddenly halted, letting out a loud gasp like he’d seen the gates of Heaven open before him. “Oh! OH! Stop — stop, stop, look at that! ”

You turned, more out of dread than curiosity. He was pointing toward a crooked convenience shop, buzzing green light. The glass window was plastered with bright stickers and product ads. One ad stood out in particular: “Lucky Cumilicious Cereal! Now with DUCK TOYS inside every box!”

Lucifer slapped a hand to his chest like he’d been moved to tears. “They made duck toys again?! Look at it! It’s wearing sunglasses! It’s glorious!”

“…It’s cereal,” you said. You were more worried about what the cereal contains, after that horrendous name. 

“With ducks! ” he whispered reverently.

Then he turned to you, eyes suddenly large, lashes fluttering, “Please. Please, please, please. Can we go in? Just one box. Maybe two.”

You blinked. “You are the King of Hell.”

“I’m aware.”

“You could will that cereal into your hand.”

“Yes, but that would be rude.”

You stared at him in dead silence. Then, finally, with a long-suffering sigh, you rubbed the bridge of your nose. “Fine.”

“YES!” he cheered, practically bouncing. “You’re the best.”

You muttered something inaudible and walked toward the shop. The bell above the door gave a pitiful jingle as they stepped inside. It was a cramped, crooked little place. Shelves leaned dangerously to one side, some barely holding together. Glowing jars of unknown liquids pulsed on display, and a giant taxidermy eyeball in a top hat watched them from the ceiling.

The shopkeeper, a gangly sinner, glanced up from the counter. Then his eyes widened. “You,” he choked, backing into the wall like he’d seen death itself. “You’re—You’re her—”

You stopped just past the threshold, looking more exhausted than furious… which somehow made you even scarier. The shopkeeper whimpered and dove under the counter with a squeak. 

Lucifer blinked. “Oh my. That’s a new reaction.”

You sighed. “It’s not.”

Lucifer peeked over the counter and called cheerily, “No need to panic! She hasn’t smited anyone all morning.”

No response.

“I’m serious!” he added, “I’ve been with her for a whole hour. Only scowled. Didn’t eviscerate a single sinner. Remarkable restraint, really.”

Still no answer.

You let out another sigh, walked to the counter, and leaned against it. “…I’m just here for the cereal,” you said, voice dry.

There was a pause. Shuffling.

“…Just…cereal?” the shopkeeper whispered.

You gave a glance toward Lucifer, who was standing beside a cereal pyramid with the biggest, most ridiculous, sparkly-eyed expression of glee you’d ever seen.

You looked back at the shopkeeper. “…Ten boxes.”

Another pause.

“…Ten?”

“Ten.”

A beat.

“…Of the duck one?”

Your eye twitched. “Yes. Of the duck one.”

The shopkeeper’s head slowly emerged from behind the counter, still wary, but utterly baffled. “You… You want to buy them?”

“Is that not how shops work?” Lucifer asked brightly.

“I— I guess? I just thought you’d, y’know, blast me into ash and take ‘em.”

You stared at him, utterly unamused. “If I was going to kill you, you’d already be dead.”

The shopkeeper whimpered and fumbled to the shelves. While Lucifer was looking doe-eyed at the cereal packs, you whispered. “It doesn’t have the…uh…”

The sinner sighed, looking like a lot of people asked him that. “No. The one who named it just wanted to relate that it tasted good…like that.”

“...Right.” That guy must have some food porn fetish.

Within a minute, ten boxes of Lucky Cumilicious Cereal: Duck Edition™ were stacked neatly on the counter, complete with gaudy cartoon ducks. As the shopkeeper rang them up with shaking hands, Lucifer turned to you and whispered, “Thank you.”

You only gave a half-shrug, voice low. “Don’t thank me yet. You haven’t seen the calorie count.”

But when you glanced at him again, genuinely beaming at you, something in your chest shifted. Softened. How ridiculous.

____________________________

The sky above your district roared with fire and smoke.

By the time they arrived, the scent of gunpowder was already thick in the air. Your once-orderly streets had erupted into chaos: overturned carts, black banners fluttering where her crest should’ve been. Fucking assholes.

“Shit. I need a full overview of things.”

Lucifer gleefully accepted this. “Don’t worry!” he called down, already soaring above. “I’ll scope things out from the top! You take the boring side of things—logistics, planning, subordinates—whatever you Overlords do!”

Before you could stop him, his disguise charm broke as he spread his wings and with a dazzling whoosh , he shot upward, leaving a faint sparkle trail in the smoke like a firework.

You… stayed grounded. Your assistant emerged from a nearby alley, panting. “Ma’am!” she shouted, rushing to you. “They came two nights ago—stragglers, armed –”

“Where’s their base?”

“Near the industrial quarter. They took the outer spires first, then moved inward. We’ve been pushing back, but they got allies.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Allies?”

Your assistant hesitated. And that’s when the bullet whistled past your cheek. A whisper of metal and smoke. You didn’t flinch, but your assistant dove to the ground.

You turned slowly. And there he was, standing tall on a twisted street lamp, rifle resting cockily on one shoulder. Straw hat tilted forward, long tail flicking behind him like a rattlesnake with rhythm. Striker.

“Now that’s a face I didn’t think I’d get the honour of greeting today,” he drawled, teeth glinting. “Didn’t reckon you’d crawl out of that fancy hotel just to come slum it with the rest of us.”

Your gaze was steel. “I don’t entertain rodents. And you’re standing on my property.”

He gave a low whistle. “Still got that bite, huh?” He spun the rifle, pointing it toward you again with casual, confident aim. “Didn’t think you'd bring royalty either.”

You didn’t answer, not yet. You were calculating.

From the air, Lucifer weaved through plumes of smoke and gunfire, magic flaring from his palms in bursts of red-gold light. He wasn’t fighting — This time, he was protecting. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Though some took advantage of the chaos… but he saw something else too.

A husband shielding his wounded wife with trembling wings. A sinner trying to drag a friend to cover. Another woman not able to get out of the rubble telling her girlfriend to flee.

Lucifer floated above them, breathing hard. Lucifer blinked in beside her; with a flick, the stone turned to ash. The couple cried and nodded at him gratefully as he vanished again in a red ripple. And something turned inside him. Not just guilt. Shame.

These weren’t the irredeemable filth he once believed. He had let exterminations go on for centuries. Told himself the worst were being culled. Told himself that Hell was punishment, and he wasn’t its warden, only its unwilling king.

But now, watching the streets run with blood, seeing innocent sinners fall under crossfire they didn’t ask for…He realized something dark and bitter. He hadn’t just stood idle. He’d been wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong.

*

Ice hissed as it struck hot metal, steam rising in thick clouds. You rolled behind a broken fountain, barely missing another shot. Striker was relentless; quick on the trigger, voice a constant taunt. "You're slowing down, little Overlord!"

Your eyes narrowed. You didn't reply. Instead, you rose and let the frost take over.

The ground cracked beneath your feet as a wave of cold spiralled outward, elegant and brutal. Your fingers splayed, and in an instant, the fountain behind you transformed into a wall of jagged ice, catching Striker’s next bullet mid-flight.

He cursed and jumped back. You stepped through the mist like a wraith, one arm lifting, a spear of translucent ice shot forward, pinning his long coat to the wall of a ruined storefront.

His eyes widened. “Shit—Fucking bitch!”

He raised the rifle, point-blank. But you were faster. Your hand shot out, encasing the weapon in solid ice. It cracked under the pressure, a shriek of metal and frost and you wrenched it from his grip before shattering it to dust.

Striker staggered back, breath ragged.

"You picked the wrong bitch," you said quietly, frost curling from your fingertips.

He looked cornered, panting, coat ripped, one boot skidding slightly on your ice. You turned, breathing steady, ready to order him dragged off by your soldiers.

But then you heard it; a faint shhk . The unmistakable sound of a blade unsheathing.

Your instincts flared. Too late. A sharp line of fire bloomed across your cheek as something impossibly hot and divine kissed your skin — slicing with a hum that your soul recognized before your mind did. You stumbled back a step, fingers flying to your face. Blood. You hadn’t bled in years.

The smell of it was wrong. Burned . Your gaze snapped to Striker.

He stood tall now, a wild grin back on his face, twirling something that didn’t belong in Hell. A curved sleek, unnatural blade. It shimmered with celestial light, the metal humming with power. Your chest tightened.

“Where the hell did you get that?” you demanded, voice quieter, deadlier.

Striker shrugged, the blade catching the dim sun as he spun it lazily. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You narrowed your eyes. That was angelic steel . Carmilla Carmine was the only one who traded in them. And she sure as shit wouldn’t hand one to some errand boy with a cowboy hat.

You stepped forward. “You’re going to regret that. "The air cracked as your ice daggers shot toward Striker, each one a razor-edged shard of fury.

He dodged deftly, rolling between a pair of shattered pillars, boots skidding across frost-slick stone. He sliced through two of the blades mid-spin, divine steel singing as it clashed with your magic. 

You were faster this time. You slammed your palm into the ground, ice erupting upward in jagged walls, trying to trap him in. Striker leapt, twisting in the air, but you were already there, meeting him mid-motion with a kick to the ribs that sent him sprawling.

You surged forward to end it, hand raised, frost already forming your next strike. But he was quicker than his battered form suggested.

A flash of white steel came for your throat, sudden and reckless. Time slowed. You didn’t think. You reacted .

Your hand swept upward and an ice-forged sword burst into being in your palm, catching his blade inches from your skin. The impact rang out like thunder.

Both of you froze, faces inches apart, breath mingling in the space between. You stared into his eyes — wild, defiant, but gleaming with something darker than pride. 

He grinned. “That’s the problem with people like you,” he drawled, pushing his weight against your blade, the angelic steel hissing as it clashed with your ice. “You think you’re in control. That you know all the moving parts.”

Your eyes narrowed, muscles tensed. “What are you talking about?”

He chuckled darkly, pressing his weight harder against your blade. “Y’know… maybe I am just a pawn. A little gun for hire. But I ain’t stupid.”

He jerked his head to the side. "'Specially when someone brings a king to a war he should’ve stayed the hell away from. Tch…royalty don’t do good on battlefields, now do they?”

You followed his gaze, and saw him. Lucifer was still in the air, magic flaring as he shielded a group of terrified civilians. Too focused and exposed. 

And then you saw them. A cluster of armed demons, camouflaged against the rubble. You hadn't noticed them before. But they were aiming directly at him. And the weapons they held gleamed white …. Angelic guns.

Shit, shit, shit.

Your breath hitched. The frost around you stilled, your heart did not.

Striker chuckled, still pressed to your blade. “Oops,” he said with mock surprise. “Now how did they know the king will come along today?”

Who is he talking about?! Dread settled in your gut like a stone. Because no matter how powerful he was, you doubted even the King of Hell could take that many angelic shots.

Your grip tightened around your sword. This wasn’t just about your territory anymore.

You didn’t think. You shoved Striker back with a burst of frigid wind, sending him skidding across the battlefield on a slick of ice. The second he hit the ground, you were already running.

Your boots pounded against scorched rubble and frozen debris, lungs burning, heart louder than any explosion in the distance. You didn’t even register the blood still dripping from your cheek. You only saw him.

So unaware. So damn unaware.

“Sir–LUCIFER!” you shouted, voice raw. “ABOVE YOU—!”

He turned, smiling that you finally called him by his name. For a moment, your eyes met in the smoke and flickering firelight. His expression changed from confusion…straight into fear .

Because in that same heartbeat—You felt it. The divine burn.

Striker’s sword rammed through your lower abdomen, sliding between your ribs with a sickening ease. You felt everything.

His breath was on your neck. “Tsk,” he whispered with a grin in your ear, voice practically humming with glee. “Letting your guard down for him ?”

You gasped but didn’t scream. Didn’t give him the pleasure. Striker twisted the blade as he withdrew it, slow and deliberate. Blood poured from the wound, soaking into your clothes.

Striker’s boots crunched as he stepped back. His thoughts burned with satisfaction. An Overlord... dropping her shield for the King? Now that’s leverage. That’s a story worth telling."
But not now. He was tired, wounded, and she wasn’t dead yet. Time to vanish.

You staggered forward, one step at a time, your hand pressed tightly to your bleeding side. Warmth trickled down your fingers, soaking through your hands. The angelic wound hissed against your flesh, deeper than you'd first realized. It was spreading. Burning.

Your breath was shallow. Each inhale felt like it scraped the inside of your lungs.

Behind you, the battlefield simmered into silence. Somewhere, your forces were cleaning up the remnants of the rebellion. You didn’t look back.

“Ma’am!” your assistant rushed to your side, panic clear in her voice. “Please, you need to sit down—”

You shoved her hand away with more force than you meant to.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, even as your knees wobbled. You bit down on the sharp throb beneath your ribs and kept moving. You had to.

Not where your enemies could watch you fall.

The truth rattled in your chest like cracked ice. You weren’t going to make it much farther. You were bleeding from the inside, and divine magic to top it all. 

I need to crash, you thought. Somewhere safe.

You blinked upward just as Lucifer landed in front of you, panting, wild-eyed. “ You’re hurt,” he gasped, voice pitching high with panic as he crossed the space to reach you. “Why would you do something like this for them?!”

Your knees buckled. Your legs finally gave in. You didn’t fight it.

Because your eyes found his — frantic, flooded with worry and something inside you eased. You didn’t know when it had happened, or why , or even if it made any damned sense…But in that moment, as your vision blurred and the sounds of the world became cotton-soft—

Your last thought before the darkness took you was simple: Safe in his arms.

Everything felt… cold. And not from your magic this time.

Chapter 3: Chapter III

Summary:

Recovery and questionably effective physical therapy sessions courtesy of the Hazbin Hotel.

Notes:

CW: Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Denial of Feelings.

 

The world returned to you slowly.

 

A dull ache in your side. You blinked against the sluggish weight of sleep, vision hazy as you tried to sit up  and immediately thought better of it. Pain flared along your stomach. “Ugh…” you winced and stilled.

 

Then you noticed something. You weren’t cold. Something was draped over you — something soft, warm, and far heavier than any blanket. You slowly lifted your hand and brushed the edge of it.

 

Feathers. You froze. Feathers?

 

You blinked again, eyes sharpening now. A thick, white wing lay draped across your body, the inside tinged with a rich, red hue, soft as cotton. It curled around your torso protectively, almost cradling you. Your breath hitched as you slowly, very slowly, followed the length of that wing to the body it was attached to—

 

Lucifer, sleeping beside you. His head was resting against the other side of the bed, one arm folded awkwardly under his cheek, the other draped over the edge. His mouth was slightly open. His hair, usually slicked back, had fallen loose in soft, blond waves.

You lay still, watching him.

Lucifer's breathing was slow, steady. His face was peaceful in sleep. You shifted slightly, only to pause. Something stained the lining of his vest. Faint, but visible in the early light leaking through the curtains. You blinked, squinting. Is that…? A splash of golden blood, half-hidden beneath one of the buttons.

Without thinking, you lifted your hand and brushed your fingers lightly over the stain, your touch ghosting over his chest, just to check—

Lucifer jolted awake with a sharp gasp. He blinked wildly, eyes snapping open and found your fingers still pressed to his chest. You both froze.

He stared at you. You stared at him. Then both of your gazes shot to your hand placed on him. Then you stared at the bright flush spreading rapidly across his cheeks, a soft glowing gold, blooming across his pale skin.

“I—uh—what—!” In one flailing motion, he shot upright. And promptly tumbled off the bed. Thud. “…Ow.”

The wings that had so tenderly cradled you a moment ago retracted with an undignified fwump as Lucifer scrambled to his feet.

He looked utterly horrified. “I wasn’t—! I didn’t mean to—! I don’t sleep in other people’s beds! I was just—your vitals were unstable! Charlie said to watch you! And then— wings! Instinct! It’s a biological reflex—!”

You blinked slowly, propping yourself up against the pillows. “…You’re bleeding.”

He froze mid-flail, then blinked down at the dried golden stain on his vest. “Oh,” he said faintly. “Right. That. I might’ve got grazed. I didn’t notice.”

You swung your legs off the bed slowly, every muscle stiff, body aching. The sheets tangled around your knees as you sat up, clutching your side, only to find it tightly bound in clean, white bandages. The ache throbbed dully under your palm, but the bleeding had stopped.

As you tried to rise, and suddenly, Lucifer was by your side. "Whoa, whoa—hey!" he yelped, hands gently placed on your arms to steady you. “You’re supposed to be resting! Healing! You’re still not at full strength.”

“…What happened?” you asked, more quietly now, gaze lowering to your bandaged side. “After I fell.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, “I panicked,” he admitted, softly.

You looked back at him.

“I saw you fall, and I—there wasn’t time. I just… portaled you here. Fastest route. Didn’t want anyone else handling you while you were still bleeding.” He paused, biting his lip, then added with a sheepish shrug, “You’re in my room, by the way. That’s, uh, those are my windows. They’re custom.”

Yeah, you could tell by the apple-shaped balcony windows.

“…I used a little magic. Accelerated the healing,” he added, quieter now. “Not a full fix…you’ll still be sore, but it kept your insides from spilling out. And, well, everyone at the hotel kind of… panicked.”

You blinked.

“Charlie was practically in tears, my poor girl,” Lucifer continued, fidgeting now with the hem of his coat. “Angel Dust was threatening to kill someone. Niffty made a Get Well Soon card, very glittery…”

You looked down at your bandages again. Your mind still felt a little clouded. The last thing you remembered was collapsing, and Lucifer rushing toward you. You had to get back to work.

Your district had just survived a rebellion, Striker had carried an angelic blade, and you had no doubt that whispers were spreading already…about your absence, about your injury. You needed to know who was alive, who had turned, and whether the streets were still yours.

You pushed the blankets off and began to sit up again.

Lucifer’s brows furrowed as he took a step closer. “Hey—what did I just say?”

“I need to check on my territory,” you said, swinging your legs off the bed again, this time with more force. The sharp sting in your side returned, but you grit your teeth and ignored it.

Lucifer stood in front of you now, arms crossed. “You are my patient. Which means you’re going to sit that ass down and rest,” he muttered, poking your shoulder very gently. “Whatever empire-mantling Overlord business you have can be done from right here. In fact—” he turned dramatically and with a snap of his fingers, conjured a laptop out of thin air, “Now you can command or send threatening memos all from the comfort of this extremely fluffy bed.”

You stared at the screen. “Your majesty,” you said with a sigh, leaning back against the pillows as the pain in your side flared again. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous?” He let out a soft scoff, folding his arms again. “You almost died . Because you ran headfirst into danger. For people you didn’t need to protect. So forgive me if I don’t think it’s ridiculous to want you to take a single damn breath before you charge back into who knows what danger.”

You paused. There was something deeper in his voice, something earnest. You knew he meant well… People you didn’t need to protect. That line stuck like a blade.

“Excuse me?” Your voice cut sharp through the room.

Lucifer stopped in his tracks, turning slowly, blinking as if he hadn’t quite realized what he’d said until now.

There was a tremble in your voice, deep and bitter. “I’m the reason that district didn’t eat itself alive. I’m the reason families live without fearing a bullet through the window. I brought structure. I brought order. And I didn’t do it because someone told me to. I did it because I give a damn . Because they’re mine. ”

Somehow, you couldn’t stop talking. All bottled up emotions spilled like poison. “I taught sinners how to find something worth holding onto in this trash heap of an afterlife,” you snapped. “Taught them how to start again, how to live quietly, even peacefully. Stable jobs. Safe streets. You think that was easy? You think they didn’t matter?”

You scoffed bitterly. “Of course you don’t. Why would you? You haven’t looked at a sinner in centuries without seeing everything you hated about humanity. You’re so wrapped up in your grand tragedy, you can’t even see what’s in front of you.”

“That’s not fair,” he said quietly, his voice lower now, but lacking conviction.

“No, what’s not fair is watching them rebuild themselves every single day, and fighting off those damn monsters from heaven. How dare they have any right to judge who is right and who is wrong? All life is sacred– then what about us? And you , you were supposed to protect us, humans who were dreamers just like you – who defied so-called authority!”

You stopped, breathing hard, side aching, the bandage tugging against your skin. You watched the colour drain from his face. He looked... shattered. Not angry or offended. Just devastated. And that, somehow, was worse than any snide retort he could've thrown at you.

Your breath hitched. The anger that had gripped your chest loosened just enough for guilt to slip in. You turned away, your hand tightening around the edge of the dresser as your gaze dropped to the floor. “I… I’m sorry.”

Lucifer didn’t respond.

“I don’t usually lose my temper like that,” you continued, softer now, ashamed. “That was… uncalled for. You just saved my life, and I’m…”

Lucifer shifted on his feet, clearly trying to find the right words, his hands gesturing clumsily before falling back to his sides. “I… I’ve been thinking, truly thinking. What you’ve done, what I haven’t done, and what maybe I… could start doing differently—”

Your eyes snapped to the stain. It had spread further across the fabric since earlier. Fresh. “Wait,” you said sharply, stepping closer. “That’s still bleeding.”

Lucifer blinked. “What?”

“On your vest.”

“Oh, that?” he laughed quickly, raising his hands in surrender. “No no, it’s—it’s nothing serious, really, it looks worse than it is—”

You were already reaching out, not listening. “Let me see.”

His expression went from surprise to flustered in a second flat. “Oh! You really don’t need to—”

Your hands were already gently but firmly pressing against his shoulders. He stumbled back, eyes wide, and found himself sitting on the edge of the bed before he could argue further. “Wait, wait—seriously, I’m fine—”

“Stop squirming.” You had already begun to unbutton his vest. Lucifer let out a noise that was somewhere between a gasp and a sputtered laugh, cheeks flushing with a telltale golden hue. 

A small wound near his ribs was still glowing faintly, gold against pale skin, healing slowly but stubbornly. Your fingers traced the edges gently, mindful not to cause him pain.

He was trying to be good. Really. Trying not to focus on how warm your touch was. How delicately your fingers moved. How your brows furrowed in silent concern for him.

But it was impossible not to notice how close you were. And that stupid tail—he felt it slipping out from behind him, curling around your waist before he could stop it.

“No, no, no—” he muttered under his breath, reaching back to grab it, but too late.

The devil’s tail gave a playful tug. You yelped as your centre of gravity shifted. “Wha—?!”

You toppled forward, right into his chest.

“Oof—!” Lucifer caught you on instinct, arms wrapping around you as your weight landed squarely against him, your faces inches apart.

You both froze. 

“Uh,” Lucifer said intelligently. 

You blinked up at him. His eyes were wide. Gold rushed across his cheekbones in a furious blush. “I—uh—I didn’t do that,” he said quickly, “I mean, technically I did—but not on purpose ! It was the tail! I swear it acts on its own sometimes—it has a mind ! A personality! A mischievous one!”

His tail was still gently wrapped around your waist like a smug little snake. His hands, still warm and steady on your waist, didn't pull you closer but they didn’t let go either. A blush spread across your face. You could feel his heartbeat against your chest.

You were just about to push yourself up, when the doors burst open with theatrical force. Charlie entered, with the rest of her crew. “I heard noises – I’m glad you’re okay –,” She froze mid-sentence at the very compromising position. Charlie’s mouth hung open. “I—uh—what—”

Angel Dust’s eyes sparkled with delighted mischief. “Well, well, well… someone’s gettin’ cozy! Daddy still got moves.”

Husk raised an unimpressed brow. Niffty bounced in place, giggling as she clasped her hands together. “Oooh, this is so exciting!”

Lucifer flinched. “ It’s not what it looks like! ”

“Sure it’s not,” Husk deadpanned, taking a long pull from his flask.

You sat up with a groan, brushing your hair from your face. “We fell.”

Charlie stared at the two of them for a long moment, visibly working through her reaction.  “Okay,” she said softly, lifting her hands in surrender. “We’re leaving. She still needs her rest.”

Niffty pouted. “Awww, but—”

“Nope!” Charlie clapped her hands. “Out. Everyone out. Now.”

_____________________________

The doors had barely clicked shut behind Lucifer when the warmth drained from your eyes. For a moment, you listened to the silence. Then, without turning, you spoke. “Now.”

A ripple in the shadows answered you. Smooth as a blade from a sheath. “Ma’am,” the spy said, kneeling and producing a small silver device from the folds of their robe. “You asked for proof. I bring it.”

You nodded once.

The spy flicked their wrist and the device projected a hovering screen between them. Static buzzed softly before giving way to grainy footage—distorted, distant, but clear enough. Striker stood there, half in shadow, his smirk unmistakable. Beside him were three other imps.

Then something stepped into frame. Your eyes narrowed. Not a demon. An Exterminator . Wings tucked, expression unreadable, fixed behind a hollow, soulless mask. Several weapons followed—swords, daggers, and throwing spikes. 

The footage flickered and cut.

You folded your arms. “Have we confirmed the Exterminator’s identity?”

“No,” the spy said. 

You stared at the now-black screen. A holy weapon, given willingly? By an angel. To an imp.

“They’re preparing something,” you said softly. 

What were they planning? You glanced back over your shoulder. “Keep this within my network. Expand surveillance. Anyone dealing with divine filth is to be tagged and followed. Quietly.”

The spy bowed. “Yes, ma’am. And Striker?”

You grinned. “I’ll take care of it myself.” Striker had made this personal.

“And the district?” you asked, pausing by the window.

“Reconstruction is underway. Two-thirds of the outer ring is secure.”

“Good. Keep me posted.”

 

_____________________________

A few days later, the ache had dulled.

The bandages were gone, replaced by faint scars. Charlie had insisted on 'come downstairs for something fun and relaxing.’ You had your doubts.

As you descended the staircase, adjusting the cuff of your tailored sleeve and prepared to excuse yourself. “I appreciate the invitation,” you began smoothly, glancing toward Charlie waiting at the base of the stairs, “but I have pressing matters to—”

You stopped at the abomination in front of you. The lobby had been transformed: every piece of furniture pushed to the walls, plush cushions scattered across the floor like multi-coloured landmines. Satin, feather-stuffed, sequined, enormous beanbags stacked like fort walls. You blinked once. “What… is this?”

Charlie beamed like a child about to show off a school project. “A pillow fight!” she chirped. “For team-building! And camaraderie! And trust! You know, letting off steam! We all need it!”

You stared at her, deadpan. “You believe throwing soft objects at each other will foster trust?”

“Yes!” Charlie nodded enthusiastically. “And maybe help you relax a little?”

“I’m afraid that’s not how I operate—”

Whump! A pillow nailed you from behind, smacking against the back of your head. You turned slowly. Angel Dust stood there, smirking, one hand on his hip, the other twirling a second pillow. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” he said, voice thick with mischief. “I thought an Overlord could handle that.”

You narrowed your eyes. You smiled, but it wasn’t kind. “If it’s war you want,” you said softly, “then let’s make it interesting.”

The temperature in the room dropped, literally.

Snow began to swirl. A gentle flurry, soft and cold, spiralling out from your hands. The floor frosted over in a delicate sheet of sparkling ice. The pillows vanished, disintegrated into glowing red embers and ash. A cold wind kissed the room. Tiny flakes began to fall from the ceiling, slow and silent.

Charlie’s eyes widened. “Wait, what are you—”

You didn’t answer. You snapped your fingers. A snowball materialized above your palm. Perfectly round and lethally packed.

Angel barely had time to squeak before it launched with precision. It nailed him straight in the face with an icy SMACK , sending him sprawling backwards off the couch with a shriek.

Vaggie howled with laughter. Niffty applauded. Even Husk chuckled behind his glass.

You stood in the middle of the chaos, arms crossed, snow still drifting gently around you, the ghost of a smirk finally curling at your lips.

Angel Dust blinked. “What the—that’s cheating!?”

You raised one perfectly arched brow. “If I don’t like the playing field…I change it.”

“Team-building,” you turned towards Charlie. “Perhaps you were onto something.”

Charlie laughed, cheeks flushed. “Told you!”

It was chaos. Glorious, ridiculous chaos.

“Alright!” Charlie clapped her hands. “We need teams!”

“Me and Charlie!” Vaggie called, immediately flanking her like a loyal knight.

Angel Dust walked over to Husk. “Come here, grumypus, you’re with me!”

“Ugh,” Husk muttered. “Kill me.”

Niffty was running around throwing random snowballs around, laughing maniacally.

You rolled your eyes, arms crossed and a snowball forming lazily in your palm. “I don’t need a team,” you said coolly. “You’ll all fall either way.”

“Ah-ha!” came a voice from the doorway, loud and far too theatrical.

All heads turned as Lucifer strutted in. “Did you all begin... without me? ” he gasped, a hand over his heart.

Charlie clapped excitedly, since it was the first time her dad seemed to be interested in the hotel’s inner activities. “Sure, dad! Join right in. _________ can be your partner.”

Lucifer grinned wide, as if getting Charlie’s approval was a feat he was proud to achieve. “Of course, I’d love to!” Lucifer coughed. “I mean—strategically! Yes! You’re very... effective.”

You stared. He tugged at his collar.

Angel shook his hands. “That’s not fair!”

You chuckled. “Nothing is ever fair, my dear friend.”

Lucifer held up both hands. “I’ll only use my wings! No magic!”

“I... accept,” you said, for some reason trying not to look at him. “But only because I want to wipe the floor with all of them.”

Lucifer puffed up with pride. “Yes! That’s the spirit!” He took position beside you, standing way too close, then scooted a step away, then back again like he couldn’t quite figure out where his feet were allowed to be.

You didn’t comment. 

Lucifer shouted as Angel and Husk started the attack, “On your left—wait, is that your left or mine?”

You sighed. “Just duck!”

“I see what you did there!” he laughed as a snowball smacked him in the face.

The room had officially turned into a winter war zone. The walls were dusted with frost. Niffty somehow built a fort and was sniping from behind it. Charlie and Vaggie were using coordinated tactics like pros.

Lucifer and you stood back-to-back.

"Incoming!" Lucifer shouted with glee as a barrage of snowy projectiles hurled toward you both.

This was ridiculous. Absolutely, wonderfully ridiculous. He hadn’t had this much fun in centuries. Lucifer ducked behind your ice shield, his heart doing something strange and fluttery as you moved with sharp, purposeful grace. Efficient. Brilliant. And utterly mesmerizing.

Without missing a beat, you flicked your fingers, conjuring a wide ice shield again that froze midair, shattering the snowballs before they hit. The air glittered with tiny crystals.

Lucifer blinked. "Okay, that was absurdly… cool. "

"That pun was offensive," you muttered, ducking as a snowball soared past.

"And yet you're smiling," he said brightly.

"I'm not ."

"You are a little."

You tried not to smile. You failed.

It wasn’t fair. You came here to be near him—the version of Lucifer that you respected, and you’d come to terms with that you were too delusional, like a teenager who romanticizes her k-pop idol or something. You weren’t supposed to start… feeling things when he looked at you like that. 

Another snowball flew toward Lucifer's face, but he jumped and did a full, clumsy somersault in the air using only his wings, landing beside you again in a flurry of feathers.

The way he moved around you like it was the most natural thing in the world, trusting you to guard his back, while you trusted his wings to shield yours.

You hated it. You hated how much you liked it.

He was so loud, it should have been annoying. It was not. You told yourself it meant nothing. It had to. Because if it meant something, if you let yourself feel that warm, unbearable ache in your chest…that terrified you more than any angelic blade.

"Perfect deflection!" he grinned.

"Nice cover," you smiled.

“Thank you!” he said, fluffing his wings proudly. Stop it, stop it, stop it. He couldn’t be… falling . That was absurd. He hadn’t liked anyone in years. But then you leaned just slightly into his side, and his heart flared with something stupid and soft. 

You both moved in sync—stepping the same way, covering each other’s sides, protecting without speaking. Lucifer launched another snowball with an enthusiastic whoop and it hit Husk squarely in the face.

"Nice shot," you murmured.

He almost forgot to breathe. Lucifer preened. “You bring out the best in me.” he said before his brain could stop him. Your laugh which used to be quiet, rare, brightened in full force. Had he done that? Had he made you laugh?

You probably didn’t feel the same. You were elegant and strong. And he was… well, you’d just screamed all the things you hated him for moments ago. 

His wings brushed yours sometimes. His shoulder bumped yours. His laugh made something ache in your chest. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You were composed. You were feared. You didn’t pine .

And yet here you were, dodging snowballs with flushed cheeks, your heart skipping every time he complimented you, every time he smiled at you like you were someone who lit up his sky. Must be the adrenaline.

He couldn’t possibly feel the same.

The chaos of snowballs, shrieks, and laughter echoed in the lobby, all a blur as you darted toward higher ground. With a practiced flick of your wrist, you conjured an elegant arch of ice, gliding upward on a crystal slide.

A perfect vantage point. Or so you thought.

You were almost at the top when— Slice. Husk’s card tore clean through your creation.

Your balance slipped. The cold rushed up as you plummeted, the world turning weightless for a breathless second. But you didn’t hit the ground.

Lucifer held you with effortless grace, catching you like you weighed nothing as he caught you in the air.

You blinked, dazed. Your hand gripped his shoulder, fingers brushing the hair at the nape of his neck. There was a wonder in his eyes you hadn’t expected. 

“I…” you started, but the words faded when you saw his expression soften even further. Your lips parted, but no clever retort came. You simply stared back at him, eyes searching, your hands still resting on his chest. His warmth seeped through you like sunlight through frost.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, almost to himself.

You smiled faintly. “I know.”

“I should, um—” he gestured vaguely.

You nodded, heart thudding. “Yeah.”

Then, slowly, reluctantly, he lowered you to your feet. His hands hovered at your arms, as if unsure whether to let go.

Your phone buzzed sharply in your pocket. You flinched, snapping out of the daze. “Sorry,” you murmured, gently pulling away from Lucifer’s light touch.

He immediately stepped back, as if burned by the proximity. “Right, of course—take your time!”

You gave a half-smile at that, an amused flicker dancing in your eyes before you turned to walk away. But not before you paused, snapped your fingers once and the snow field vanished in a swirl of frost-kissed glitter.

Glowing scores floated midair, materializing in front of each team like a scoreboard made from snowflakes.

Charlie gasped with delight. “Vaggie! We won!”

“We what ?” Angel Dust squawked, squinting at the glowing number above. “This shit is rigged.”

“You were hit by three snowballs in a row,” Husk muttered, already walking off.

As Angel turned to look for Lucifer’s team score, still ready to dispute the whole outcome with righteous flair, he stopped dead.

Lucifer was standing by himself, gazing down at his open hand. An ice rose had bloomed in his palm.

Then, ever so slowly, the King of Hell smiled—a soft, dazed smile unlike anything Angel had ever seen on him. He tucked the rose carefully into the inner pocket of his coat, right where it would rest closest to his heart.

*

You looked at the caller ID and groaned. Still, you answered it, retreating quietly from the others as laughter echoed behind you.

"Well, well," came the familiar, smooth as ever voice. "Aren’t you hard to reach these days?"

You closed your eyes for a second. "Vox."

He chuckled, the sound low and self-satisfied. "Don’t sound so happy to hear from me, sweetheart."

You narrowed your eyes, voice cold. "What do you want?"

"Relax. I’m calling to help," Vox said, his tone lilting, teasing. "You know, like old times. You remember that, don’t you? Me feeding you intel, you storming in with ice-blades and fury? We made quite the pair. "

You hated how easily he could still get under your skin. "That was a lifetime ago."

"Mm. Felt shorter."

You swallowed the urge to hang up. "If you have something useful, say it."

"I might," he said smoothly. "Word spreads fast down here, especially when it involves you. I might have… some useful information. A location. Maybe even a name."

Your jaw tightened. You hated when he was like this…dangling bait with that smug little purr in his voice, like he was doing you a favor when really, it was all just another move in his game.

"And you’re just offering this out of the goodness of your heart?"

He laughed again. "Please. You know me better than that." Of course, you did.

Then Vox’s tone shifted slightly, the charm sharpening into something darker. "Let’s meet. Tomorrow. Somewhere neutral."

You paused. "Fine. I’ll pick the place."

"Oh, I’m sure you will," he said, amused. Then, almost like an afterthought: "Tell the King of Hell to stay out of it. This is between us, dollface."

You stiffened but before you could respond, the line clicked off.

You lowered the phone slowly, slipping it back into your coat pocket. Your fingers felt colder than the snow that had just melted off them.

 

Notes:

Dw guys, there's not going to be love triangle lol😂

We've thunderstorms in my area so it really puts me in the mood to write. Unfortunately, I got a fever by running in the rain. No regrets tho lol

Chapter 4: Chapter IV

Summary:

You and Lucifer get close, but your Overlord business gets serious

You sat among the noise and laughter, your fork idle on your plate as the others chattered and bickered with reckless joy.

Angel Dust was narrating another of his porn films that won an award, Niffty was scrubbing, as usual. Husk grumbled through sips of his drink, gruff as always but never truly mad. Vaggie was trying to keep order, failing, and dear Charlie was just laughing, cheeks pink with joy as she tried to pass around more mashed potatoes.

You had every reason to leave—your territory needed you. You had responsibilities, dangers to manage, a reputation to uphold. And yet, the longer you stayed, the heavier the idea of going back felt in your chest.

“You okay?” Charlie’s voice pulled you gently from your thoughts.

You turned to her, blinking. “Yeah.”

She hesitated, then leaned in a little. “I was wondering… Dad hasn’t come down from his room since yesterday. I know he’s probably just in one of his moods, but—” she smiled sheepishly “—he does tend to listen to you.”

You raised a brow, dry. “I think you overestimate me.”

Charlie gave you that hopeful, gentle grin. “Maybe. But could you… check on him? Ask him to come join us?”

You sighed and gave a small shrug, pushing yourself up from the table. “Alright. I’ll try.”

Charlie’s smile widened. “Thanks.”

You turned and walked away from the dinner table, the laughter still ringing behind you, warm and loud. You climbed the staircase, your steps soft against the ornate. 

Lucifer’s door stood slightly ajar, a warm sliver of golden light spilling into the hallway.

You hesitated, but then knocked. “…Lucifer?”

No response.

You nudged the door gently open. The room beyond unfolded in soft amber tones, lit only by the moonlight filtering through the stained glass of an enormous apple-shaped window.

It was not what you expected. The room was a beautiful mess.

Blueprints were spread across a long table in careful disorder — layered sketches of odd devices, intricate machinery, inventions, even what looked like theater stage layouts. Strange tools littered the surface. Notes were scrawled along the margins — neat, looping handwriting filled with enthusiasm, second guesses, and bursts of creativity.

Your fingers brushed over one blueprint in particular , this one a music box with glowing constellations inside and felt something in your chest tighten. A quiet ache.

You felt your breath catch. It was brilliant . A little chaotic, but undeniably full of thought, joy, and ambition.

You moved slowly around the room, your eyes drinking it all in. Stacks of half-completed ideas lined the corners. On one wall stood a tall glass cabinet and inside it, shelves and shelves of small rubber ducks.

Each one was different. Some wore little top hats. Some had tiny angel wings.  Another wore a cape. You couldn’t help the soft smile tugging at your lips as your gaze lingered on them. 

You were still admiring the sketches, quietly tracing one of the designs with your fingertips, when a sharp squeak echoed from behind a smaller door nestled in the corner of the room.

You turned your head, frowning slightly. Another door? Cautiously, you walked over and nudged it open. Bad idea. A t sunami of rubber ducks exploded outward.

Bright yellow, winged, pirate-hat-wearing, glow-in-the-dark ducks cascaded out like a tide, spilling across the floor and tumbling onto your boots. You barely had a second to step back before the entire mountain rolled forward… with Lucifer tangled at the centre of it all.

His legs stuck out at odd angles. “Ah,” he said, voice muffled and far too casual for someone half-buried. “I might’ve… been reorganizing the Duck Vault.”

You blinked. He grinned sheepishly, eyes wide and hopelessly endearing. “Little help?”

You stared at him for a beat. Then let out a soft, surprised laugh. “How exactly did this happen?”

“I was trying to find my limited-edition, disco duck,” he said with far too much dignity for someone lying in a duck avalanche. “Turns out... they were all precariously balanced on hope and poor decisions.”

You reached down and offered your hand. He took it with a dramatic sigh of relief as if you were saving him from the depths of the underworld, not a hoard of squeaky toys. As you pulled him up, a chorus of honks sounded from below.

“You should come down and eat with the rest of us,” you said, brushing some lingering dust from Lucifer’s sleeve.

Lucifer chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head. “Ah, I already ate, actually. Had this brilliant idea pop into my head mid-afternoon and couldn’t possibly stop myself.”

You tilted your head, half-smiling. “Another invention?”

He brightened immediately, then hesitated. “Well… yes. But it’s probably nothing. You know how it is… these things come and go. Most of it never quite works.”

You took a step toward his desk, where a fresh set of blueprints had been hastily rolled out. “May I see?”

Lucifer blinked. “You want to see it?”

“I already looked at your other ones,” you said casually, eyes scanning the lines. “They were brilliant, by the way.”

Lucifer laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh come on—those old things? Half of them don’t even function. I was going to toss them.”

You stepped forward before he could ramble himself into a spiral, your gaze falling onto one particular schematic — a spyglass with small winged attachments.

“No, don’t throw them away,” you said, your tone suddenly firm. “This one — right here — it’s clever. It’s just the power relay. If you shift the rotation timing by half a second, the whole mechanism would stabilize.”

Lucifer was still frozen, a stunned look growing behind his eyes, the kind that slowly blossomed into joy like the sun peeking over the horizon. “OH MY GOD, YOU’RE A GENIUS–You actually fixed it!”

Without thinking, he surged forward and wrapped his arms around you. You stiffened slightly from the surprise, but his warmth settled against you like a blanket, his laugh bubbling against your shoulder.

“You’re amazing,” he murmured. “Seriously.”

You blinked, caught off guard again. “It wasn’t much—”

“It was everything,” he said, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. His face was lit up with awe. “You really think they’re good?”

You nodded, your voice softer now. “I’d love to see more.”

Lucifer swallowed, golden blush faintly dusting his cheeks. You watched him for a long moment, something fluttering behind your ribs. Then he pulled back abruptly, flustered. “Sorry! I just—uh—get very excited about gears.”

You tilted your head, smiling. “Clearly.”

Just as you were about to turn toward the door, Lucifer’s voice piped up—gentle, unsure, but with a note of excitement underneath.

“Wait! Before we go down… I want to show you something. The idea I had earlier.”

You paused mid-step, curiosity piqued. “Oh?”

He scrambled to the corner of the room, ducking behind one of the larger desks where scattered cogs and glittering bits of machinery covered nearly every inch. With some careful manoeuvring and a little triumphant “Aha!” , he returned, cradling something in his hands.

“Well…” he slowly brought his hands forward, revealing a delicate object cradled carefully in his palms. It shimmered faintly in the soft light, a crystal sphere set on a silver pedestal. A snowglobe.

Inside the globe, gentle snow flurries spiralled around two tiny figures — unmistakably modelled after you and him. The two were dancing in a slow, endless circle. 

You were silent. He panicked. “It’s stupid, I know. I just…I sort of, uh, spent the afternoon cobbling it together instead of, you know, eating food on time, which is completely fine, because I eat weirdly anyway and time is fake—”

You gently turned the crank. A soft, tinkling melody began to play…slow, dreamy, and faintly familiar. 

You looked up at him. “You made this?”

Lucifer stopped breathing. “...Yeah.”

You blinked, slowly turning the snowglobe in your hands, watching the tiny snowflakes spin around the dancing figures. “It’s beautiful.”

Lucifer let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, his shoulders sagging slightly in quiet relief…then straightened again, too quickly, trying to appear casual. “I mean, obviously it could use some improvements, and I wasn’t actually trying to model the figures after us, it just sort of happened—anyway, it’s enchanted. When you shake it, the snow falls and it plays a tune I composed myself. It’s rough, but—”

You smiled, and he stopped talking. “I love it,” you said.

Lucifer flushed golden, his mouth opening slightly like he had something else to say… but then just nodded, very, very quickly.

You held the snowglobe closer to your chest, your thumb gently brushing the glass. “Thank you,” you said quietly.

You took it carefully in your hands, turning it slowly. It sparkled, the tiny figures dancing with an effortless grace as the soft sound of a music box filled the air. You were speechless for a moment.

Then he pointed at his nightstand. “You gave me an ice rose. So… I wanted to give you something back.”

Your gaze followed where he gestured. Sure enough, on the edge of the nightstand sat a perfectly preserved ice rose, crystalline petals catching the fading light, shimmering with soft hues of blue and silver.

Your heart gave a strange little lurch. “I did…?”

Lucifer smiled, scratching behind his ear sheepishly. “You conjured it into my hand, during the snowball fight yesterday.”

Your mouth opened to explain because you hadn’t meant to, hadn’t even realized it but then you saw the way he was looking at it. With wonder and joy. The careful way it had been placed like it was something sacred. 

So you just… nodded. “Right. I remember now.”

Lucifer beamed. “I know it’s silly. But the globe… it just felt right.”

You looked down at the snowglobe again, heart full in your chest, the little dancing figures forever circling each other in quiet harmony. “It’s not silly,” you murmured. “It’s… perfect.”

You were still admiring the snowglobe, heart caught somewhere between disbelief and fragile awe, when Lucifer shifted beside you. His fingers twitched nervously at his side before he cleared his throat.

“Would you…” His voice faltered, then steadied with the weight of a hopeful grin. “Would you honor me with a dance?”

Your gaze flicked to him. “A dance?”

He smiled. “On the ice. Just one. I thought it might… go well with the gift.”

You didn’t reply at first. Just smiled slowly. Then you lifted your hand and snapped your fingers.

With a snap of your fingers, frost kissed the floor and spread outward in sweeping spirals. Ice settled across the ground like glass, smooth and shimmering. A curl of silver magic laced around both your feet, conjuring ice skates that laced themselves tightly with snowy white ribbons.

Lucifer looked down at his feet and wobbled, but seemed delighted. “Oh—goodness—uh, I haven’t done this since 1914…”

You laughed softly, stepping onto the ice with practiced ease, gently taking his hand. “Let’s see if you can keep up.”

From the little shelf behind him, the snowglobe activated, the figures dancing as a quiet melody drifted through the air.

‘And there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you, dear

Have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years?’

You began to move.

It wasn’t perfect at first — he was awkward, you were trying not to smile too much, and the turns were slow, cautious. But then he steadied. His hand slid to your waist, the other tightening around yours. His touch was gentle, not performative. 

You glided together in slow circles. The ice shimmered beneath your feet and above you, snowflakes spun lazily from the magic.

The music swelled. You twirled, the magic flowing through your limbs like a second heartbeat, and he caught you again… spinning you in, then pressing you closer. Both of you smiled, breathless.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand?

With every guitar string scar on my hand…’

Your hand rested against his shoulder, fingers curled in the fabric of his vest. 

You turned with him again, and the snow globe music wound down slowly in the background. As the song came to an end, another followed soon enough…

“Can I go where you go?”
“Can we always be this close forever and ever?”

*

Charlie padded down the corridor, wearing a fluffy strawberry-printed pyjama set. Vaggie walked beside her, yawning. They were nearly to their room when Charlie paused. “Do you hear that?” she asked softly, stopping mid-step.

Vaggie squinted down the hallway, then tilted her head. “What—music?”

Charlie nodded slowly, her brows furrowing.

It was faint, but unmistakable — a gentle tune floating through the air like a dream half-remembered. A soft piano melody, the same one she vaguely recalled from when she was a little girl, when her dad used to hum under his breath while working on something.

But he hadn’t played music in a long, long time.

Charlie crept forward, tiptoeing toward the slightly ajar door of Lucifer’s suite. She hesitated only briefly before peeking in through the narrow crack.

Her breath caught in her throat.

There, in the middle of a gently frosted floor, your figure moved gracefully with her dad, and his face… his face was lit up . Smiling, his eyes soft and open in a way Charlie hadn’t seen much.

You were laughing, skating backward and holding one of his hands, your cheeks glowing with happiness. When Lucifer caught you with a dramatic little dip and you laughed harder — the sound unguarded and real.

Charlie stepped back, heart full, her eyes slightly misty. She hadn’t seen him smile like that in a while.

She turned to Vaggie and grabbed her hand with a gentle squeeze, then made a soft, excited noise in her throat. “Do you think they’re dating?!”

“No,” Vaggie said flatly.

Charlie pouted. “Why not?”

“Because they’re both emotionally repressed and catastrophically in denial.”

Charlie stuck her tongue out at her girlfriend and tugged her away gently. “Come on, let’s leave them alone. Maybe if we’re lucky, they’ll finally figure it out.”

As the two walked off toward their room, Charlie looked over her shoulder one last time with a fond smile. Her dad deserved to be happy, and maybe he was starting to remember how.

_____________________________

You woke up with a groan. Meeting with Vox was displayed on your calendar. Ugh.

With a slow breath, you sat up and tugged on your jacket over a loose black top, adjusting the collar with sharp fingers. 

You made your way down the stairs, each step heavier than the last. The hazy orange light of Hell’s sky filtered through the stained glass, bathing the hotel lobby in a strangely warm glow. But your expression was anything but warm.

Angel Dust was draped over the bar like a cat in the sun, sipping something pink and bubbly. Husk sat behind the counter, quietly sipping his own drink.

Angel spotted you first. “Ooooh, well, well, look who’s up bright and broody ,” he called with a smirk, turning on his stool. “Who pissed in your cereal this morning?”

You arched a brow, adjusting the cuffs of your coat. “Meeting.”

“With who?”

You glanced toward the lobby doors. “Vox.”

Angel’s smirk widened into something devious. “Vox, huh? Now that’s a name I haven’t heard from your mouth. Weren’t you two—”, Angel made an obscene gesture, “once upon a time?”

You shot him a calm, deadpan look. “It’s all in the past.”

Angel put a hand to his chest in mock drama. “Oof. Cold as ice.”

You gave him a tight smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Fitting, don’t you think?”

Husk snorted behind the bar. “I’d pay to watch you freeze his smug ass.”

“No promises,” you muttered, tugging your coat tighter.

Lucifer floated down the stairs, still humming a soft melody. He’d prepared a tray of breakfast delicately arranged with his signature flair: rich coffee, golden croissants, and a bowl of duck-shaped fruit slices back in his room.

Last night had been… different.

For the first time in what felt like centuries, someone had looked at his blueprints…not with mockery or impatience—but with wonder. You had listened, studied, even improved them. He had found someone who didn’t call him eccentric or absurd.

“There you are,” he said, breathless but bright. “I—I thought perhaps we could eat in my room? Together, that is. Just breakfast. I made coffee. And we could go over those wind-turbines again, or maybe—”

You barely spared him a glance. “Can’t. Meeting.”

The chill in your tone froze him mid-step. “Oh,” he blinked. “Is everything—”

“I’ll be back later.”

And with that, you were gone.

Angel Dust and Husk had both watched the exchange with raised brows. Angel let out a long, low whistle. “Yikes. Why the sudden cold shoulder?”

Lucifer tried to laugh it off, running a hand through his hair. “She must be busy. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Angel patted the stool next to him. Lucifer sat down slowly. Husk, without a word, slid a glass toward him—amber liquid sloshing gently inside. Something bitter, just like this morning.

Lucifer sat hunched at the bar, cradling the untouched drink in his hands. His usually dazzling demeanor was dulled by confusion, disappointment, and something else he didn’t quite want to name.

Angel Dust twirled a bar straw between his fingers, watching him with a gleam in his eye. "Sooo… you really like her, huh?"

Lucifer cleared his throat, keeping his eyes on the swirling liquid. "I… respect her. Admire her, even. She's—she's quite remarkable, don’t you think?"

Angel leaned forward, resting his elbows on the bar with a smirk. “Yeah, sure. Remarkable. I mean, I’m just saying, maybe you should’ve asked her before she went off to meet with Vox.”

Lucifer blinked, finally looking up. “Vox?”

Angel gave a faux-innocent shrug. “Mhm. You know, Mr. Tall, Handsome, CEO? Yeah. Apparently, she’s meeting him this morning. Said it was important business. Used to date him too, from what I hear.”

Lucifer paled, literally. His already-fair complexion washed out to something ghostly.

“They were… lovers ?” he asked, voice cracking slightly.

Angel held back a laugh. “You didn’t know?”

Lucifer stiffened, visibly flustered. “Well, I—she never mentioned him. And that’s—fine, of course! She’s free to meet with whomever she pleases. Even that… parasite. ”

He mumbled the last line.

*

The air was thick with heat and the buzz of demonic traffic, but you walked with purpose, your coat fluttering behind you with each step. 

You tugged at your gloves absently, mind clouded by thoughts of Vox and the cryptic message he’d sent. You didn’t trust him. You never had. But information was power and right now, you needed every sliver of it.

“Ma’am,” your assistant spoke from behind, slightly breathless from keeping pace. “A call came through. I think you’ll want to take it.” She handed you your phone, already connected.

You pressed it to your ear. “Who is this?”

“Heyyyy, my favourite Elsa!”

You blinked. “You’ve an un-favourite Elsa?”

“Yeah, a real asshole.” Blitzo huffed. “Anyway! You got Striker’s location?”

You smirked. “Yes. He’s wounded but slippery. I want you to take care of him, permanently. I figured you’d want in.”

“Oh fucking yes!” Blitzo drawled. “He’ll get what’s coming for him. But…ya know, my business is killing people on the surface…”

You raised a brow. “I’ll pay 10 times the usual amount.”

“Oh yeah! Consider that bitch dead.”

The call clicked off. You tucked the phone away just as you reached the entrance of the neutral meeting place—a café.

This day was going to be exhausting. You stepped inside. Your assistant lingered outside. “Sweetheart,” came his voice. You turned and saw Vox, sitting casually, a grin already stretched across his screen of a face. “You look tense. Let me guess—you missed me?”

“Let’s skip the bullshit, Vox,” you replied, cool and sharp. “I didn’t come here to discuss our history.”

He clutched his heart with mock-wounded flair. “You’re breaking my heart, doll. Always so serious. But alright, straight to business.”

He turned with a dramatic flick of his hand, pulling up a flickering projection in the air—his feed. It was the same footage you had seen before: an exterminator handing out angelic weapons to imps. But this time, it was clearer, sharper. You could even make out the markings on the weapons.

“Tsk, tsk. Your little intel centre's cute,” Vox drawled, scrolling through the footage with practiced ease, “but mine’s the best in the biz. HD 400 max.”

You folded your arms, staring at the screen. “I didn’t come for your flexing, Vox. Just the truth.”

“Which I am so generously giving,” he purred. “See here?”

He zoomed in, and his database filtered through. “My system ran a match through old archives,” Vox said. “Turns out, this ain’t just any exterminator. It’s Lute.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Lute. One of the high-rankers. They’re not supposed to meddle in Hell unless it’s Extermination Day.”

“Exactly what I thought,” Vox said, his tone taking a rare serious edge. “But this? And helping imps? That ain’t heavenly protocol.”

“Why are you showing me this?” you asked. “You don’t give anything away for free.”

Vox gave you a half-smirk, stepping closer. “Because if this gets serious this will not be just your mess anymore. And if the angels are going rogue?” He leaned in slightly. “You’ll need all the allies you can get.”

You stared at him, lips pressed into a line. “And you’re offering yourself?”

“I’m offering info, and let’s just say I want to see what you’ll do next. And maybe,” he added, voice dropping into something more intimate, “a reminder of what we were capable of together.”

You didn’t respond to that last bit. You just held his gaze for a long, loaded moment.

Vox leaned back, his voice turned honey-smooth, laced with mockery. “So,” he said, with a sly grin, “you’ve been spending a lot of time with a certain Morningstar.”

You didn’t flinch. He took that as a cue to press on.

“I mean, no judgment, babe. If you’re aiming for an upgrade, I get it. King of Hell, fallen angel—real sexy package.” He paused, then leaned in, grin widening. “But let’s not pretend. You and I both know… he’s not what will keep you satisfied.”

You slowly turned your head toward him, eyes cool and unreadable.

Vox’s voice lowered, smug and insinuating. “He has no real power over Hell. Whereas me? I’ve got an empire. Eyes and ears in every place. Networks, weapons, influence. I’m your equal , darling. Always was.”

You took a quiet breath, holding back the dozens of sharp things you could have said. You didn’t rise to the bait. You’d played his games once before. Not again.

Instead, you turned away, making for the exit. You weren’t stupid to realize that he was an important ally. “I’m happy with our alliance,” you said over your shoulder, voice steady. “But this could’ve been an email.” The door shut behind you.

The smug grin lingered. But this time, it didn’t reach his eyes. 

Your boots crunched against the gravel as you stepped out of the neutral zone. Your assistant caught up to your pace. “Where to now?” she asked, already flicking open a digital map in her palm.

You didn’t stop walking. “South Docks.”

She blinked. “That’s where Lute’s drop is today, isn’t it?”

You gave a small nod, eyes forward, focused.

“Striker?” she asked next, already guessing.

“Handled,” you replied coolly. “Blitzo’s keeping him occupied. He’ll either slow him down or finish the job.” 

You stopped at the edge of a cliffside overlook, scanning the smoky horizon where rusted metal spires clawed at the blood-red sky. The sulfuric winds picked up, tugging at your coat. “Let’s see what heaven is up to.”

Notes:

heyy guys, from how the story is unfolding there may be an increase in chapters maybe to 11, and I'll make changes with the flow if needed.

I chose this song from Viv's playlist of Lucifer 🩷☺️

Chapter 5: Chapter V

Summary:

A date under the stars

Notes:

I cried writing this chapter ☺️👍

The old salt refinery was deathly quiet, the scent of rust and brine clinging to air. Sunlight didn’t reach here. The sky above pulsed a dull red, casting jagged shadows from the twisted metal columns that had long since stopped serving any purpose.

You stood silently behind a shattered support beam, one hand gripping the angelic weapon holstered at your thigh. You had paid dearly to Carmine for it. Two of your best were in position, concealed in the rafters above, eyes sharp. You waited. 

Then, a whine of compressed space split the air as a portal opened. Lute stepped through, her eyes scanned the clearing with unhurried grace. Her left arm, mechanical,  hummed with quiet power.

You didn’t move, not yet. When she stepped fully into the marked zone, you gave the slightest gesture.

Your spies dropped down, flaring out twin cuffs woven with high-tensile steel, aiming for her wrists with fluid accuracy. For a second, it worked. The clamps caught with a satisfying clank .

But only for a second. Lute’s head turned slightly. Her expression never changed.

And then— CRRRRRACK!

The mechanical arm surged with brutal, unnatural strength, and the restraints screamed as she ripped them apart like wet paper. She twisted, knocking one of your men back into the dirt with a pulse of raw force. The other barely had time to react before she levelled him with a kick to the ribs that sent him sprawling.

She turned, her eyes locking on you. She tilted her head, analysing you. 

You stepped into view, calm and collected despite your pulse rising. “Aren’t you early for Extermination, angel?”

Lute’s smile curled wider. “Oh no, I’m here for something entirely different. I guess we managed to get your attention.”

We? You didn’t have time to think about it, as Lute came at you with her spear.

You parried with your sword, your body twisting as steel rang against steel. The impact shot sparks into the air, the force nearly tearing your blade from your hand. You slid back and exhaled sharply. She was fast. 

Lute wasted no time. She pressed forward, each movement clean, controlled, and brutal. Her footwork was sharp, militaristic—this wasn’t some street-level thug. 

You ducked the next blow and rolled, pushing off the ground and sending a surge of icy mist outward from your palm. A burst of frost erupted under her feet, instantly freezing the slick ground beneath her boots.

Her feet slipped. You took your opening.

Your sword flashed in a crescent arc, aiming for her midsection, but Lute dropped low with unnatural fluidity. Her mechanical arm shot out, and a beam of holy light shot out.

Fucking Iron Man. You raised a barrier of frost just in time, shards exploded on impact, peppering the side of your face with icy dust.

You were a blur of motion—twisting, blocking, slashing. Your blade danced through the air, its edge occasionally trailing frost, your magic surging through every swing. Lute matched each blow with her spear. Her spear sliced a shallow wound across your shoulder. You hissed, spun, and retaliated with a sharp kick to her side.

“You’re better than I expected. No wonder he’s got his eye on you.”

You spat blood from your mouth. “You talk too much.”

You clashed again with so much force that both of your weapons flew out of your hands. Lute engaged in physical combat and pushed you down with sheer strength.

“What the hell are you—”

A white-hot needle of agony shot through your arm as something pierced your skin. You screamed, instinctively jerking back, but she held you fast. 

Her mechanical arm had extended a sleek, silvery syringe, now sunk deep into your upper arm. You could feel it pulling your blood, drawn into the glowing vial attached to her wrist.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” you roared, trying to wrench away.

You slammed your forehead into hers. She reeled back just enough for you to kick her. Lute stumbled, and you scrambled to your feet, the syringe ripping out with a hiss and leaving a thin stream of blood down your arm.

Your backup arrived then, a circle of your people formed around.

“Stand down!” one barked, charging toward her.

But Lute didn’t fight. She stepped back with a smirk, as a portal engulfed her, leaving you confused. What the hell was that? The illegal trade with imps was new, so it might have been a distraction…? For what? To bring you here? What did heaven care for you, an Overlord like any other?

“What’s the Extermination schedule? Are they still going to go through it?” You asked as your assistant came up to you. Since Lucifer had stopped the previous Extermination with a show of power, you’d thought it put an end to that unjust treatment.

“No, ma’am. The treaty has not changed. The king just defended his daughter, who was protected under the treaty. There has not been any…changes by the king.”

You sighed angrily. “Some things never change.”

*

Few months earlier…In Heaven.

Sera walked quickly through the endless garden pathways, the hem of her gown brushing against blooming lilies that never wilted. 

The doors opened at her touch without resistance. Michael stood at the heart of the room, surrounded by a ring of glowing spheres—visions, potential timelines, or glimpses across realms. He was still as a statue, watching one sphere intently.

“Michael,” Sera said, “I heard… you had a vision.”

He didn’t turn.

“You know I don’t like gossip,” he said, voice calm but distant.

“I wouldn’t come if I thought it was trivial.” She stepped beside him, eyes narrowing toward the sphere. “Is that Hell?”

A shimmer within the orb revealed ruined buildings. There were glimpses of imps, overlords, the tell-tale haze of the infernal. Then it shifted—and your face appeared, breathing heavily, wounded but unbroken, the determination in your eyes almost radiant.

“That’s her,” Michael murmured. “The one from the vision.”

Sera frowned. “Who is she?”

Michael finally turned to her. “She is the one who might change everything.”

Sera arched her brow. “That dramatic? You’re not usually one for prophecy.”

“This wasn’t a prophecy,” he said. “It was a warning .”

That made her pause.

“She is not just a non-believer,” Michael said, his voice softening into something unreadable. “She is a true one.”

Sera scoffed. “So? There are billions of atheists. That doesn’t make her special.”

Michael smiled faintly. “You misunderstand. It’s not that she doesn’t believe in God. It’s that she truly never did . Not as a child. Not in pain. Not in miracles. She never once turned her gaze skyward and asked for us. Not even subconsciously.”

Sera folded her arms. “Still doesn’t explain why she matters so much.”

Michael raised a hand and the sphere shifted again. This time, it showed exterminators marching. 

“She will end the exterminations.” Michael said, his voice as heavy as iron. 

Sera blinked. “You’re serious.”

Michael nodded. “This is the future that has the strongest resonance.”

Sera turned away, troubled. “But only Lucifer has that authority…” She walked away in a hurry.

Michael said nothing as she left. He simply stood there, hands loosely folded behind his back, watching her go.

The moment the doors closed behind her, he exhaled with a soft laugh and turned his attention back to the sphere.

You were smiling in it now, laughing at something offscreen. The image shifted slightly, revealing Lucifer nearby, sitting close, his face lit with rare joy as he looked at you like you were the only person that existed.

Michael’s smile deepened, nostalgia bittersweet, missing his brother.

________________________________

You were fuming. After everything, Lucifer still hadn’t tried to amend whatever the fuck that treaty was?!

You marched through the hall of the hotel. You ignored Angel's concerned glance as you passed the lounge. Your jaw tightened as you reached his door. You didn’t knock this time. You pushed it open, only to stop mid-step.

Lucifer was sitting near the apple-shaped balcony, bathed in the pale red glow of Hell’s filtered light. His legs were folded neatly, his shoulders hunched slightly, as he stared into the endless sky beyond. His cane rested beside him, untouched.

Your rage crumbled instantly.

There was a sadness in his frame you hadn't seen before, not like this. You swallowed hard, guilt crashing over you like a tide.

You had snapped at him before. After he showed you the blueprints. After he offered you breakfast—offered you his time , his ideas and you’d barely spared him a glance.

Goddamn it , you cursed inwardly. What’s wrong with you?

You stepped forward, softer now. “Lucifer?”

He blinked and slowly turned toward you. His crimson eyes looked duller than usual, surprised to see you there.

“I—” you faltered, then took a breath and approached him. “I owe you an apology.”

Lucifer sat straighter, blinking again in surprise.

“I... snapped at you before. That wasn’t fair of me.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but you raised a hand gently. “And I didn’t mean to ignore you. I was just... overwhelmed. But that wasn’t your fault, and I should have been honest instead of cold.”

Lucifer stared at you for a moment, caught between disbelief and the slow thawing of hope in his eyes.

Then you smiled, soft and a little uncertain. “So,” you continued, shifting your weight just slightly, “would you be kind enough to join me for lunch? Since I ditched breakfast.”

For a moment, he said nothing. Then his whole expression lit up.

Because in his mind, just moments before you arrived, he had been replaying everything he might have done wrong. Maybe he’d bored her. Maybe his ideas really are nonsense.
Maybe she regretted the dance—maybe she didn’t want to be seen with him again.

“I would be honoured, dear,” he said, “All of that is forgiven.”

“You’re too kind.”

Suddenly, the thought struck you—something brighter than apologies, something more meaningful than just sharing a meal. 

"Actually..." you began, glancing up at him. "I wanted to make up for things properly."

Lucifer tilted his head, curious. “You already invited me to lunch. I must admit, that’s quite high on my list of favourite things.”

You smiled, a little mischievous. “I meant somewhere else. Not the hotel.”

Lucifer blinked. “Oh?”

“I’ve been rebuilding my observatory. The one in my territory. Finished it just this week.” You gave his hand a gentle tug. “Come have lunch there with me?”

“An observatory?” he echoed, brow lifting in amused confusion. “You do realize Hell doesn’t have any stars.”

You didn’t answer, just grinned and snapped your fingers. A shimmering portal cracked open midair, swirling with a faint iridescence. “Come and see anyway.”

Lucifer looked surprised, but intrigued. And, perhaps, a little enchanted by your confidence. “Lead the way, dear.”

The portal opened into a wide, domed chamber with glass walls and an impossibly high ceiling. The floor beneath your feet was covered in natural grass, but none of it compared to what was above.

The ceiling bloomed alive with stars.

A vast cosmos stretched overhead—an almost perfect projection of the mortal sky. The Milky Way spiraled across the dome like a frozen galaxy, constellations twinkling in their places, and comets occasionally trailing by in soft, slow arcs.

Lucifer stumbled to a stop. His eyes widened. A thousand stars reflected in his irises.

“I know it’s not real,” you said, voice quiet but certain. “Just tech. A projection system I’ve been building for months. Took forever to get the rotation right. But… I wanted to show it to you.”

Lucifer didn’t say anything right away. His mouth parted slightly in quiet awe. Lucifer looked at you then and the way he smiled was unlike anything you’d seen before. Soft, reverent….like you were one of the constellations above.

You added gently, “I thought… you’d like them.”

He chuckled—a little shaky, a little touched. “Like them? There are literally no words…”

Before the moment grew too heavy, Lucifer clapped his hands together. “Well! If we’re stargazing, we need proper supplies.”

He waved a hand theatrically, and with a soft poof of light, a red picnic blanket unfurled itself onto the ground. A floating lunch basket shimmered into existence, complete with a bottle of sparkling pomegranate wine, sandwiches wrapped in foil, and pastries with various toppings.

The two of you sat close, shoulder to shoulder, sharing warmth even in this illusion of a night sky.

Lucifer took a sip from his wine glass, his gaze drifting upward. “I haven’t seen stars like this…” he began, then paused, lips quirking into a rare, melancholic smile, “...since Eden.”

You turned to him. His voice had been soft, nostalgic, but not bitter. There was something childlike in it, as though he were remembering a bedtime story or a dream he once believed in.

You took another bite of tart and nudged his foot with yours. “Do you miss Heaven?” you asked softly, watching him beneath the glitter of stars.

Lucifer blinked. “Miss Heaven?” he echoed, as if the words were in another language.

“Well…” He glanced at the stars like they might help. “That’s… complicated. I mean, it was my home. For… well, eternity. Familiar halls. Familiar faces. But—” He made a so-so gesture with his hand. “The rules.”

He leaned back with a sigh, “So many rules. ‘Don’t create this, don’t touch that, don’t question this, Lucifer put that experimental flaming dragon down right now ’—you get the idea.”

You laughed. “You wanted to create flaming dragons?”

“I tried,” he huffed, sitting up again. “And pocket dimensions! Gravity-defying instruments! Self-singing flowers! But—nooo. Too noisy. Too chaotic.”

You smiled softly, and wanted to share as well that he wasn’t alone in that. “In life,” you began, voice low, “I wasn’t exactly... accepted. People thought I was strange. Cold. Too intense. I didn’t go to church. Didn’t pray. I always questioned the rules set by others…”

You hesitated, then said it plainly: “I was a Satanist.”

Lucifer blinked. “Wait—you were part of one of those cults?”

You gave him an utterly flat look. “Do I look like someone who sacrificed goats under the full moon?”

He raised his hands in surrender, laughing. You rolled your eyes. “I followed the modern path—the one that teaches self-worth. That there’s no god above you. That you are responsible for your choices. You live by your own moral code, not someone else's book of rules.”

Lucifer stilled for a moment, looking at you like you were a newly discovered invention. “...So, you do believe it now? Since you’re in Hell.”

“I don’t.” you said, looking down at your fingers in your lap. “If there’s a God, he has to beg for my forgiveness.”*

Lucifer’s gaze softened again, but before you could sink into your thoughts, as always, he ruined it with, “Though I am still curious if you ever tried summoning me with a chalk circle and latin phases.”

You smacked his arm. He laughed and leaned away dramatically, almost toppling onto the picnic basket.

You turned to him with a softness in your eyes that caught him completely off guard. “Heaven might not have appreciated your ideas,” you said gently, “but I do.”

Lucifer’s breath stilled. The stars cast a silvery glow across your features. You looked like something carved out of a dream. Not angelic, no. Something wilder, freer. Like the universe had made a star that refused to follow any orbit and called it you.

He swallowed. His throat felt dry.

You smiled, and the corners of your mouth curved in a way that made him feel completely stupid.

And it hit him, quiet and thunderous all at once… coup de foudre .**

Oh. 

Oh.

He was in love with you. Completely, hopelessly, cosmically in love with you.

You glanced at him, your brow lifting just a little. “You okay?”

Lucifer cleared his throat, then smiled crookedly, just enough to hide the panic beneath it. “Perfect,” he said, voice cracking slightly before he smoothed it out. “Absolutely...perfect.”

His mind spun. What if he ruined it? He always did, didn’t he?

He was too much. What if you thought so, too?

He glanced at you, smiling to yourself as you sipped from a cup of hellbrew. The expression on your face was serene. 

He could be charming, yes. But he was also messy. Prone to bouts of invention-mania that made him forget to eat, sleep, exist like a normal person. He talked too much. Felt too much. 

Would you still want him when he broke down because his thoughts were too dark at night? When he locked himself in his room for days, reworking inventions that never quite lived up to your expectations?

Would you leave, like everyone else eventually did?

Lucifer suddenly hated the way his chest ached. He hated how small he felt in this moment, sitting beside someone so powerful, so radiant, so good . You could build stars in Hell. You could rebuild yourself from rejection. You could see people so clearly.

Surely, you could see through him. And what if, after seeing all of him, you decided he wasn’t worth the trouble?

He swallowed hard, staring down at the last crumb of tart on the plate between you.

That gentleness, that patience… was it mercy?

His thoughts screamed over each other. She’s just being nice. She’s powerful, clever—she doesn’t need you.

You’re entertainment. A fun detour. Lucifer’s fingers curled slightly against the fabric of the conjured picnic cloth. He should be used to this feeling—The fear of being too much and not enough all at once. But damn it, it had been so long since it mattered.

And you? You mattered so terribly much.

That terrified him. Because if he let himself fall and you decided he wasn’t worth it…He wasn’t sure he’d recover this time.

His hand inched closer to yours.

Just a little more.

Just a liiiittle more—

Nope.

Abort.

You were still looking out at the stars overhead, your expression soft, serene, completely unaware of the existential hurricane inside the King of Hell. You looked beautiful. Too beautiful. Dangerous, even. The kind where he wanted to hand you all of himself and ask for nothing in return.

He slowly retracted his hand, sighing silently. He couldn’t risk it. What if you pulled away?

And then—You touched his hand. His entire nervous system exploded. Lucifer's eyes shot down to where your fingers rested against his. Your fingers touched his gently, curling around his hand with such natural ease that he nearly forgot how to breathe.

“Are you alright?” you asked, voice low and concerned.

He nearly forgot how to speak. “I—uh. Me? Pffft. Perfectly alright. Never better!” he replied with a too-bright grin.

You didn’t look convinced.

Desperate to redirect before he melted into a puddle, Lucifer blurted out, “Do you… love the stars?”

“I don’t know,” you said, letting your thumb brush lightly over the back of his hand. “I think I prefer the Morningstar. ”***

Lucifer.exe has stopped responding.

His brain absolutely imploded. Did you just—did that—was that—WAS THAT A FLIRT??

His eyes widened.  She’s flirting! That’s a move! That’s a solid move! That’s a real, actual, she-is-into-you kind of move!

…Unless. No no what if she just meant your name. What if she’s just being polite. This could be a casual compliment. A platonic comment. People say things like that, right? Right??

If his heart had wings, it would have flown directly into the sun.

Your eyes held the same hesitance, the same nervous flicker of hope he felt in his own chest. You, close and impossibly beautiful, starlight dancing in your eyes like it belonged there. 

He didn’t even realize he was moving until his forehead was nearly brushing yours. Lucifer leaned in slowly, hesitant at first, his hand trembling slightly as he reached up to touch your cheek. His thumb brushed your skin like it was sacred. His lips hovered over yours, and he almost didn’t let himself go further.

What if you pull away? What if this ruins everything? What if he was too much, too fast, too—

But then you leaned forward, closing the distance. Instead, your hands curled into his collar and you kissed him back like your soul had found something, like it had always been waiting for this. And when your lips met his, Lucifer’s whole body trembled.

His wings unfurled behind him with a soft rush of breathless joy, the tips curling inwards like they were trying to hold this moment steady in the stars.

It was hesitant, at first—tender and shy, as if both of you were afraid the dream might end. But the second your mouth parted, and you pulled him deeper into you with a soft sound, all his restraint shattered.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in like he belonged nowhere else. His wings, trembling and wide behind him, cast long shadows over you both as he kissed you again and again, each one deeper, more urgent, like he was afraid this moment would be taken away.

You made a soft sound in the back of your throat—something like a gasp, something like a prayer—and Lucifer broke.

In the crook of your neck, in the curve of your waist, in the press of your chest against his—he found his new religion.

And oh, he would kneel. He would worship.

The kiss broke, slow and breathless as you tilted your head back to catch your breath, lips tingling, heart beating wildly out of rhythm.

Lucifer stared at you. Eyes wide. Lips parted. His expression shifted . “Was that—was this just… spur of the moment?” he asked, voice cracking ever so slightly as he pulled away just enough to give you space. “Because I—if it was, I understand. I just—”

You reached for him, but he backed up another inch. He wasn’t looking at you anymore. His gaze flicked away, downward, inward, hiding in the dark corner of his own head.

“I’ve ruined things before,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “I know I’m too much sometimes. I know I’m exhausting—and I keep thinking, maybe someone could care despite all that. But then I look at you and think... what if I drive you away too?”

His voice cracked fully now, brittle and uncertain. “I want—gods, I want someone to stay. Someone who won’t look at me and see a burden. Someone who doesn’t leave. But what if that’s too much to ask? What if you wake up tomorrow and regret—”

You sat up fast, reaching for his hand, wrapping both of yours around it firmly.

“Luci,” you said, his name a lifeline. “Stop.”

His gaze finally met yours, shaky and aching.

“You’re not too much. You’re everything. And I—” your voice wavered slightly, and you took a breath. You’d never admitted this aloud before. “I doubt myself too.”

His brow furrowed, surprised. You pushed forward anyway.

“I wonder if I’ll be enough for you. If I’ll be able to give you the devotion you deserve. But with you... I want to try.”

You looked down at his hand in yours. “I want to be loved only by you. And I want to love only you.”

Lucifer went still. Like the whole world had gone quiet to let your words sink into his bones.

And then—he exhaled. A soft, shaky sound. One of relief.

His fingers curled around yours.

“You mean it?” he whispered.

You nodded. “I mean it.”

Lucifer let out a sound that was half a laugh, half a sob, and pulled you into a tight embrace, his face burying into your shoulder, never wanting to leave this place.

Notes:

*A phase that was carved on the walls of a concentration camp cell during WWII by a Jewish prisoner.

**coup de foudre: A sudden unforeseen event, a love like a lightning strike.

***Do You Like Stars? Ya They're Cool meme

Chapter 6: Chapter VI

Summary:

Is there a perfect moment to say I love you? 💕

Notes:

CW: MDNI, oral sex (fem receiving), p in v

It had been a few months.

A few blissful, dizzying, almost-too-good-to-be-true months since that starlit night under your sky. And it had been wonderful. Brilliant. Steady.

The kind of unease that whispered in his ear when things were going too well, warning that surely something was about to break.

Maybe it was something he did. Maybe he had gotten too excited. Maybe he had overwhelmed you again. Maybe he was just too much, like always.

He shook his head and tugged at the cuffs of his crimson coat, trying to banish the thought. It wasn’t like you had pulled away. Just… your time.

Still. It was enough to seed the panic again, gnawing quietly beneath his ribs.

Lately, you’d been so busy. Overlord meetings, territory disputes, truce discussions.

Lucifer understood. But understanding didn’t make it sting any less when you left dinner halfway to take a call. Or when you left his room before breakfast. Or when you didn't reply to his five consecutive messages… She’s just busy, he told himself.

“Daaaamn, you look like someone ran over your favorite duck,” came Angel’s voice from the lobby.

Lucifer blinked, startled out of his thoughts.

At the bar, Angel Dust was already sipping some pink and suspiciously glowing cocktail, legs crossed and head tilted with a teasing smirk. Beside him, Husk grunted into his whiskey.

“Come on, daddy,” Angel patted the seat beside him. “You need a drink.”

With an exaggerated sigh, Lucifer wandered over and took the seat next to Angel, looking somehow simultaneously dramatic and deflated.

Angel passed him a drink. “Sooo…what’s on your mind?.”

Lucifer gave a soft laugh. “I was just thinking…”

“About her?” Husk asked flatly.

Lucifer blinked. “...You knew?”

Angel snorted. “ Knew? Babe, the way you look at her like she hung the stars—anyone with eyes knew you were crushing.”

Lucifer flushed, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Well… actually… we’ve been… seeing each other. For a few months.”

Both Angel and Husk paused mid-sip. Angel slowly set his glass down. “Wait— what? ”

Lucifer looked vaguely guilty. “We’re keeping it under wraps for now.”

Angel leaned in, wide-eyed. “Okay, wait, wait. So you’re together. Officially. And yet you look like someone kicked you in the ass.”

Lucifer sighed heavily, fingers curling around his glass. “It’s just… she’s been so busy lately… I barely see her anymore.”

“So talk to her?” Husk offered, already pouring himself another drink.

“I want to,” Lucifer said quickly. “But then I wonder—what if it’s me? What if I said something wrong? Did something wrong?”

Angel laughed. “Look, if she didn’t want all of this, ” he gestured vaguely at Lucifer, “she wouldn’t have dated you in the first place. So, what’s really bothering you?”

Lucifer hesitated. Then he looked down at his drink and muttered, barely above a whisper, “I want to tell her I love her.”

Angel froze. “Wait—what?”

Lucifer buried his face in one hand, groaning. “I do, Angel. I’ve never felt like this before. She makes me want to dream again. Laugh. Be better.”

Husk gave a low whistle. “Damn.”

“But…” Lucifer looked up, brows drawn together, “what if it’s too soon? What if I scare her off? What if she doesn’t feel the same? What if I ruin everything?”

Angel softened, watching him more seriously now. Angel shrugged. “Look, worst-case? Maybe she’s not ready to say it back yet. That don’t mean she doesn’t care. It just means she’s not at the same point. But from what I’ve seen? She’s crazy about you. And you’re both just dumb enough to assume the worst instead of talking.”

Lucifer let out a soft breath, pressing the heel of his palm against his forehead. “I hate that you’re right.”

Angel smirked. “Everyone does.”

*

You were barely a block away from the hotel when your phone buzzed.

Angel : Your man’s drunk off his royal ass. Come get ya king bef he starts cryin again.

You frowned, reading the message twice, and quickened your pace. Lucifer? Drunk? That was rare. 

By the time you reached the Hazbin Hotel and pushed through the double doors, your eyes immediately locked onto the bar.

Lucifer was slumped over the counter. Angel sat beside him, legs crossed, sipping a cocktail like this was all completely normal. Husk leaned against the counter, looking like he’d aged a century in the last hour.

You stormed across the lobby. “Angel,” you said sharply. “What the hell happened?”

Angel raised both hands. “Hey hey, don’t shoot the messenger. He came down all mopey, we offered him a drink to loosen up and—”

“He never stopped,” Husk finished gruffly.

You looked down at Lucifer, who blinked up at you slowly. 

Lucifer looked up at you, and there was something so soft in his expression it made your chest ache. “You look…” he whispered, his voice slow and heavy with intoxication, “more pretty than usual today.”

You blinked. “Lucifer—”

And then he leaned forward and pressed the sloppiest, warmest, drunkest kiss to your lips.

It was messy and slow. The kiss lingered only a moment before he broke away, giving you a dopey smile… and promptly slumped forward, head resting heavily against your shoulder with a sigh of relief like he’d finally come home.

Your arms tightened around him instinctively, heart stuttering in your chest.

Angel let out a low whistle. “Okaaaay. That’s new.”

“Shut it,” you mumbled, smoothing Lucifer’s hair as he nuzzled into your collarbone.

Husk raised an eyebrow. “You good? Want help dragging his ass upstairs?”

“No. I’ve got him,” you said softly.

The halls were quiet as you carried him in your arms. His head rested against your chest, arms loosely looped around your neck, his words slurring gently into the soft space between your collarbone and heart.

“I missed you…” he mumbled, barely louder than a breath.

You looked down at him, at the flush on his cheeks from the alcohol.

“I’m here,” you whispered. “I’m right here.”

But he shook his head weakly, as if your presence wasn’t quite enough to fill the ache inside him. His arms tightened slightly around your neck.

“No,” he murmured. “You’ll leave. When the morning comes, you’ll be gone. Just like before.”

You reached his door and pushed it open with a flick of your fingers, carrying him into the room you knew so well now—the scattered blueprints, the strange half-built inventions, the familiar sweet apple wine scent. Your things were added in his place as well.

You gently lay him on the bed, brushing his hair out of his eyes, smoothing the frown creasing his brows.

“I won’t,” you promised, but he caught your wrist before you could pull away.

His crimson eyes fluttered half open—hazy, unfocused, but desperate.

“Don’t leave,” he whispered. “Stay. Please. Just this once.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, kneeling beside the bed, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “I’ve been so… caught up. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”

Your heart clenched. You lowered yourself beside him, one arm wrapped gently around his torso. His body instantly relaxed against yours like it had been waiting for this, craving it.

“I’ll be here,” you said, resting your forehead to his. “When the morning comes, you’ll find me right next to you. I promise.”

He exhaled, deep and shuddering, and whispered something into your hair that sounded like “thank you.”

Moments later, he drifted into sleep, one arm curled around your waist, holding on like he was afraid you might slip away if he let go.

*

You woke to the sound of a strangled breath.

The room was still bathed in dim golden light—one of the star-projection globes you’d gifted him still softly spun in the corner, bathing the walls with low light. Beside you, Lucifer tossed and turned, his brow furrowed, sweat dotting his forehead. His hands twitched, reaching out for something unseen, his lips murmuring fractured, broken things.

“No... don’t go…don’t—please…”

“Lucifer?” you whispered, gently placing a hand on his arm. He didn’t wake. 

You sat up, heart tightening. “Lucifer—wake up.”

You shook him softly at first, then a little firmer.

His eyes snapped open. He gasped as if drowning, chest heaving. For one frantic moment, he didn’t register where he was. Then he saw you—your worried face above him, your hand on his shoulder, your voice steady and gentle.

He didn’t say a word. He sat up and immediately wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, burying his face into your lap like he needed to anchor himself to the reality of your presence. His grip was strong, trembling slightly.

“Was it bad?” you asked softly, your fingers slipping into his hair, brushing it back as he took deep, slow breaths against your thighs.

“I thought you were gone,” he whispered, voice thick and ragged with sleep and emotion. “That you left… or they took you… I couldn’t stop it…”

Your hand slowed, caressing the nape of his neck.

“You’re safe,” you whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Wanting to lift the heaviness lingering in the space between you, you cleared your throat and began, “You know, one of my spies got stuck in his own disguise today.”

Lucifer stirred slightly. “Hmm?”

“He was posing as a coat rack in a gambling den,” you chuckled softly, stroking your thumb across his knuckles. “Someone actually hung their coat and fedora on him. He didn’t dare move for five hours. Thought he’d blow his cover.”

Lucifer gave a breathy, sleepy laugh, eyes still half-lidded. “A coat rack?”

“Mm-hmm. I found him cursing under his breath and shaking like a leaf. Said his back will never recover. I gave him a medal.”

Lucifer grinned, full and genuine now. “Deserved. Five hours of dedication to espionage? He should be knighted.”

“You’re the king,” you teased. “Why don’t you do the honors?”

He propped himself up on one elbow, gazing up at you. “Maybe I will.”

Then he grew quiet, and you noticed that thoughtful, nervous furrow returning to his brow. “There’s something I want to talk to you about,” he said quietly, carefully, like the words carried weight he wasn’t sure he could hold.

You blinked, sitting up straighter. “That’s a coincidence,” you replied. “So do I.”

Lucifer hesitated. “You first?”

You shook your head with an affectionate grin. “No, you.”

He exhaled a small laugh, and it took him a second to gather his courage. Then, still half curled beside you, he gently reached for your hand. His fingers trembled ever so slightly as he brought it to his lips first, brushing a reverent kiss across your knuckles before resting your entwined hands between you.

“I’ve... been thinking about this for a while,” Lucifer murmured, his eyes searching yours. “And I wanted to wait for the right time, but—I don’t think there’s ever a perfect moment, is there?”

You smiled but said nothing, sensing the weight of what he was building toward. He leaned a little closer, still holding your hand like a lifeline. “I love you.”

The words were barely above a whisper. You froze. Not because you didn’t feel it, not because it was unexpected but because of the honesty in his voice. 

Seeing your silence, Lucifer’s eyes widened slightly, panic trickling in. “I—I know that’s a lot,” he said quickly trying to backpedal. “You don’t have to say it back. I just needed you to know I—”

“Only a fool wouldn’t love you,” you interrupted softly.

His mouth parted slightly, stunned. You reached for him, your hand curling gently at the nape of his neck. “And I,” you whispered, brushing your lips against his, “am no fool.”

Then you kissed him.

There was no hesitation this time. His lips were warm, slow at first—tasting, relishing but as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and deepened the kiss, he melted into you.

You felt his hand settle at your waist, the other brushing your cheek as if in awe of you, of the fact that this was real. His devotion poured into the kiss, reverent and unhurried.

When you pulled away for breath, he leaned his forehead against yours, both of you flushed and breathless.

Then, he tilted his head and smiled. “You said you had something to tell me too.”

You sat straighter, looking at his fingers wrapped around yours. “I did,” you murmured.

Lucifer’s eyes were still on your face, patient and full of warmth.

“I’ve been preparing my territory for the next extermination,” you said finally.

The words dropped like a stone in still water. Lucifer blinked once. So that's why you've been busy. His smile faltered, barely, like a candle flickering in a sudden gust. 

He didn’t say anything right away, and you rushed forward before the silence could grow teeth. “I know it’s... a heavy topic,” you said, trying to keep your voice calm. “And I know I might be overstepping, or asking too much—but… do you really think it still serves a purpose?”

You saw the shift in his eyes. “I’m sorry to ask this of you,” you added, lowering your head slightly. “It’s not fair of me, I know—”

“No,” he interrupted softly, taking your hand more firmly. “Don’t be sorry to ask for anything from me. Tell me what you've in mind, darling.”

You spoke calmly, though your heart beat loud and firm in your chest. “There are sinners who want to live. Not to destroy, not to hurt. Just… live . Love, heal, try again. And Heaven comes down and tears that away.”

Lucifer didn’t interrupt.

“They may be flawed, broken even,” you said. “But so are most people. That doesn’t mean they don’t deserve a second chance. That doesn’t mean their existence should be erased.”

His fingers tightened briefly around yours.

You met his gaze. “I’m not saying redemption is for everyone. I’m saying the right to live shouldn’t be decided by those who never understood us in the first place.”

Lucifer exhaled slowly, tilting his head. “I agree,” he said, voice soft but edged. “More than you know, I do. But you’re looking through a lens. I’ve seen the worst of what Hell holds. There are souls here who aren’t just lost, they’re rotten —corroded to their core. And I believe they should be dealt with.”

You frowned, but not out of anger. “Then let Hell decide that. Not Heaven .”

You didn’t rush him. You knew better than to push someone who had carried the burden of rebellion and consequence for eons. But then he finally turned to look at you, expression soft but unreadable.

“It’s not a bad idea,” he said quietly. “For Hell to pass judgment.”

You nodded gently. “In the mortal world, the Greeks had this idea—the Underworld wasn’t just for punishment. There was a system. Judges, trials, decisions based on deeds.”

Lucifer’s lips curled into a slow smile. “Like Minos and Rhadamanthus and Aeacus,” he said, almost playfully. “Mortals really do come up with fascinating myths.”

You leaned forward, a light in your eyes. “We could build something like that. A tribunal here.”

He exhaled with a chuckle, clearly charmed. 

“Is that a yes?” you asked, raising a brow.

Lucifer looked at you properly then. “Yes,” he said. “Let’s work on it together. Once we’ve built something concrete… we can present it to Heaven.”

Before you could even register the wave of emotion rising in your chest, your arms were around him—tight, full of joy, full of relief. He let out a small “oof” of surprise, but instantly melted into your embrace, his arms wrapping securely around your waist.

You pulled back only enough to look into his face and then you kissed him. Your lips lingered against his for a long, breathless moment. But eventually, you did pull back just slightly, enough to meet his eyes. Lucifer was flushed, pupils blown wide. 

He laughed softly, nervously. “Sooo… would it be entirely inappropriate,” he began, voice a bit too high-pitched with nerves, “if I asked if you wanted to… um… maybe…” 

You blinked at him, amused.

He tried again, rambling, “I mean, we’ve been together for a while now, and I’m very— very —into you, but also! I don’t want to assume! I never want to assume anything and ruin this, and you don’t have to, we can just cuddle, I’m great at cuddling, I was actually voted Most Cuddleable Angel once upon a ti—”

You silenced him with a soft kiss, your hand trailing to the back of his neck, your fingers curling into his blond hair. Then, without a word, your lips brushed down to his jaw. To the corner of his throat. You felt his breath hitch against you as your mouth moved along the sensitive skin just beneath his ear.

Lucifer made a sound somewhere between a surprised laugh and a groan. “Oh,” he breathed, “that’s… you’re… wow.”

You smirked softly against his skin as you reached for the buttons of his vest, slowly unfastening one, then the next.

He swallowed thickly. “Okay, okay, I’m just making sure—this is definitely a thing that’s happening, right? I’m not hallucinating? This isn’t a very intense dream sequence where I wake up alone and—oh…”

You hummed, amused by how flustered he was even as his body arched into your touch.

Your fingers made quick work of the last button on his vest, your lips trailing kisses down the smooth skin of his chest. Lucifer trembled under your mouth, his breath coming in soft gasps.

You moved lower, kissing down the line of his abdomen, feeling the way his muscles tensed beneath each touch. His skin was warm, flushed a gorgeous shade of golden where your lips grazed. Just as your mouth ghosted along the edge of his navel, your hands sliding teasingly toward his belt—

And in one blur of motion, faster than your eyes could track, he flipped the both of you, your back hit the soft sheets again. Lucifer now loomed over you, face bright gold , hair a little wild, and stunned. “Stop teasing me. It’s cruel.”

You blinked up at him, then laughed—an unfiltered, delighted sound that made him groan and bury his face in your neck. “I was this close to combusting,” he mumbled against your skin, muffled and thoroughly flustered.

You stroked your fingers through his hair, enjoying the way he practically melted into you, even while trying to preserve a shred of dignity. “Luci,” you teased, voice honey-sweet, “We don’t have to –”

And then he kissed you, breathlessly and without hesitation this time. You sighed into it, your arms wrapping around his back, pulling him closer as he melted into the warmth of your body.

The soft fabric of your nightgown slid up your body with every kiss he placed along your skin, his eyes drinking you in like you were a masterpiece painted just for him.

When the fabric was gone and you lay bare before him, he paused, kneeling between your legs. He looked breathless, entranced by you.

He glanced up, voice low and soft. “May I...?” His hands trembled slightly as he settled between your thighs.

You nodded, your breath catching as he kissed just above your inner thigh. And then his horns curled out from his head. His tail appeared behind him, swishing like an overexcited cat’s. It wagged once, twice, before he noticed and stilled with a panicked gasp.

“Oh god—don’t—don’t look at that, please,” he stammered, trying to hide his tail with one hand, the other reaching to cover his horns. “I—sometimes it happens when I’m, uh, this excited. I know it looks—monstrous—”

You sat up and took his hands gently. “Lucifer,” you whispered, “you’re beautiful. All of you. The horns, the tail and um…it’s kind of...hot, actually.”

He blinked. “You—really?” His voice cracked adorably.

You grinned, leaning up to kiss one of his horns, making him shiver. “Really.”

Lucifer swallowed hard and cleared his throat. “O-okay then, um. Right. Please,” he added, almost bashfully, “lay back for me?”

You did.

And when he settled back between your legs, his hands glided up your thighs. He kissed the inside of your knee, then a little higher, and higher still, until his breath fanned across the most sensitive part of you. “Oh my…” he murmured. “You’re perfect. ”

He kissed you there, slow, soft and then deeper, his tongue finally slipping between your folds.

Your hips bucked with a gasp, but he pressed you down with his hand splayed on your stomach. The other hand reached up blindly until he took your hand in his. He brought it to his horns.

“Here,” he said against your heat, “Please hold on for your own safety, sweetheart.”

You let out a broken laugh, breathless already. The King of Pride, truly.

And then he dove back in—eager, loving, hungry . Every flick of his tongue made your body arch, and when your fingers gripped his horns, he groaned so deeply you felt it in your spine.

Lucifer was unrelenting. Every kiss, every stroke of his tongue against your sensitive folds, was filled with intention, like he was memorizing how to best please you. His eyes flicked up occasionally, glowing with soft awe every time you gasped or moaned his name.

Your grip tightening around his horns as the pressure built, pleasure coiling in your stomach.

“Just like that, you’re –nghhh– doing so good, fuck…” you whispered, voice shaking, back arching off the blanket beneath you.

Lucifer let out a soft sound, half groan, half whimper, utterly lost in the moment, like your pleasure was the only thing that mattered in the entire realm. His tongue moved in deeper, more precise circles, holding you in place as your thighs trembled.

He angled his mouth just right, and when he gently sucked on your clit, stars exploded behind your eyes. The tension snapped. You came hard with a broken moan of his name, your body writhing beneath him, thighs clamping around his head as waves of heat rolled through you.

Lucifer didn’t stop. He held you close, mouth still working you through every aftershock, slow and steady, until your thighs twitched and you whimpered from the overstimulation.

Only then did he finally pull back—his lips glistening, cheeks flushed golden, pupils blown wide with desire. His breath was ragged, his chest heaving.

He looked completely undone. “Was that okay?” he asked, voice soft as a prayer.

You were still breathless, dazed, your chest rising and falling quickly. All you could do was nod, your hand reaching for him, pulling him up to kiss you.

You lay still for a moment, catching your breath. Lucifer watched you with a dazed smile, clearly proud of himself. 

“I just need a minute to recover,” you murmure.

Lucifer's smug grin widened. “Oh, I know ,” he said. You didn’t let him be smug for long, sitting up and swinging one leg over him, settling atop his lap.

The smirk on his face faltered as his breath caught. “Sweetheart…” he whispered, a golden blush rising high on his cheeks.

You rolled your hips once, teasingly, and the whimper he let out was nothing short of delicious. His hands flew instinctively to your waist, holding you like you were both his salvation and his undoing.

Your fingers worked open the front of his pants, slow and deliberate. You freed him from the confines of his trousers and there he was: thick, flushed gold at the tip, heavy and aching in your hand. Lucifer let out a strangled groan at the contact, his tail flicking erratically behind him.

You glanced down, biting your lip in appreciation. You held him steady, your palm wrapping around the base. He twitched in your grip. “Darling please…”

And then you angled your hips.

The tip nudged at your entrance, slick with need. With one slow, smooth motion, you sank down onto him. Both of you gasped.

His head fell back against the pillow with a groan of your name, while your breath hitched, feeling every inch stretch and fill you. He fit perfectly, almost maddeningly so.

Your hands pressed against his chest as you adjusted, steadying yourself.

“You feel—” he started, but couldn’t finish. You rolled your hips in answer.

His groan echoed through the room.

Your hips rocked in a steady rhythm as you rode him, the wet sound of your bodies meeting echoing softly. Lucifer’s hands clutched your waist, guiding your movements.

His breath hitched every time you rolled your hips just right, every time your walls clenched around him. “You’re… magnificent,” he gasped out.

You smiled breathlessly, your hands braced against his chest as your movements quickened. His cock hit all the right spots inside you, and the heat in your belly was building again, so sharp and urgent.

Lucifer’s gaze dropped slightly, to where your breasts bounced softly with each movement. A low, needy groan escaped his throat. He reached up, hands tentative for only a moment before he cupped them gently, his thumbs brushing over your nipples.

The touch made you cry out, back arching slightly into his hands.

“Please– Fuck please —,” His grip on your hips tightened, grounding himself as your pace grew more erratic. You were both gasping now, lost in the heady rhythm, the sheets tangled beneath you. His tail coiled around your thigh.

“Mmmnghh— you’re—” he tried to say, but another moan cut him off as you clenched around him. “You’re everything.”

You rolled your hips harder, and Lucifer’s eyes fluttered shut. His fingers found your nipples again, rolling them gently between his fingers to draw out another whimper from your throat.

Lucifer’s breath hitched, and before you could react, he suddenly flipped you onto your back with ease, yet his touch was careful. “Sorry—sorry,” he panted. “I just… I need to feel you closer.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but all that came out was a gasp as he thrust back into you, deeper now, his body pressing flush against yours.

One hand held your thigh tightly, the other caressing your cheek, brushing a strand of hair from your face. You cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing the edge of his lips as he leaned into your touch like a man starved of softness.

“I’m glad I found you,” he whispered, kissing your jaw, your cheek, your lips.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, drawing him deeper. His thrusts grew more intense, more desperate, but still laced with that aching tenderness only love could bring.

The stretch felt impossibly good, your bodies pressed so close now that you could feel his heart pounding wildly against yours.

“Y-You’re so beautiful,” he panted, pressing kisses to your cheek, your jaw, your lips. “I—damn it—I don’t deserve you, but I—thank you. Thank you for loving me.”

You opened your eyes, and the look you gave him nearly undid him right then.

He was lost in the sight of you beneath him—hair fanned out like a halo, skin flushed, body open and trembling for him.

And when your walls tightened around him, your body clenching as you moaned his name while cumming, it was too much.

“I love you,” he gasped against your neck, voice cracking. “I love you so much…mmmngh.”

Your hands gripped his shoulders, your back arching as pleasure surged through you like wildfire.

He groaned deeply, arms tightening around you, his pace erratic now. “Gonna—fuck—I’m gonna cum—” he choked out. 

“Yes, L-love you so much…nghhh,” you gasped, pulling him closer. “Don’t stop. Please, Luci—”

With a deep, broken moan, Lucifer folded you beneath him, pushing your knees up as he drove into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt as he came hard. His eyes fluttered shut, his face twisted in pure bliss as warmth flooded inside you.

Your chest rose and fell as you caught your breath, heartbeat still thundering from the storm you both had just weathered. Lucifer’s weight was still on you, his head tucked into the crook of your neck, his arms tightly wrapped around your waist.

You gently ran your fingers through his tousled golden hair, the scent of him clinging to your skin—sweet, like apple blossoms.

But then… you felt it. A slow roll of his hips. You gasped softly, your body overstimulated, nerves still singing from the high. “Lucifer…” you breathed, not in warning, but in disbelief.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, voice hoarse and trembling with emotion but his hips didn’t stop. “I just… I can’t stop...please?”

His cock, only semi-hard a moment ago, was already hardening again inside you, impossibly slow and deep with each roll of his hips. Your body ached, but it throbbed with want, your heart aching just as fiercely as your flesh.

You moaned softly, arching into him despite the tenderness. “You’re insatiable,” you said with a strained laugh, your fingers gripping his back.

He nuzzled into your neck, voice shaking as he whispered, “I just love you. So much.”

“I love you too, honey. You don’t have to stop,” you whispered. “I’m yours. Just… slower this time?”

That was all he needed.

His lips found yours again, slower now, deep and full of aching affection. He moved gently, every thrust slow and fluid, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You trembled under him, gasping against his mouth.

You were beneath him, around him, etched into every corner of his being. And he never wanted to move. Not from this bed. Not from this moment. Not from you.

She chose me. The thought looped in his mind like a quiet mantra. Over and over.

Even now, after months of being with you, of sharing laughter and arguments and kisses, he still couldn’t understand how something like this— someone like you—could be real and his. You looked at him like he was something beautiful and worth holding. 

_____________________

You woke slowly, body pleasantly aching from the night before. The claw marks and ripped pillows made you chuckle.

You turned to look at him, and your heart clenched in that stupid way it always did around him. Lucifer, sleeping with the softest expression on his face—his chest rising and falling in even breaths, lips parted slightly. His arm still draped over your side, as if he refused to let go even in dreams.

Carefully, you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

You slid out from the bed, naked. You grabbed a robe from the armchair, tying it loosely around yourself, and quietly stepped out of Lucifer’s room.

The moment you turned the corner in the hallway, you froze. Angel Dust was standing there, a mug in hand. He looked at you for a solid minute.

Then slowly raised a brow as a slow, wicked grin stretched across his face. “Well, well...” He gave a dramatic whistle. “Daaaamn, babe, you look like you just had a religious experience.”

You sighed and rubbed your temples. “Good morning to you too, Angel.”

He sipped his coffee. “I only let the king get drunk so he can talk to you…and guess he did, hmm?”

You gave him a flat look, but couldn't stop the small smile forming. “Don't tell me you were standing here all night, listening.”

He smirked, tossing his hair. “Please, I'm not that desperate for porn. You too were so loud, it's not my fault. I had to go sleep somewhere else.”

You rolled your eyes, turning to head down for your own cup of coffee, the heat in your cheeks refusing to fade. But your heart? It was full and warm. 

“So…” he drawled, “does Charlie know?”

You froze mid-sip. “…Know what?”

Angel arched a brow. “That you’re bangin’ her dad.”

You coughed violently, slamming your mug down, wiping your mouth with your sleeve as Angel cackled in glee.

“It’s not like it’s a secret,” you mumbled.

Angel tilted his head. “It isn’t?”

You lifted your head just enough to glare at him. “We’re not hiding it—we’re just… not advertising it. That’s different.” You sighed and ran a hand through your hair. “I told Lucifer to tell her. He promised he would.”

Angel snorted. “The king? Confront something emotionally difficult? Babe, I love the guy, but come on.”

You groaned again, louder this time, and slumped dramatically in your chair. “Oh my god. It’s going to be so awkward if I tell her.”

“You know you gotta tell her, right? It’s better coming from you than her walking in on you guys.”

You gave a long, heavy sigh. “Yeah. Yeah, I know. I’ll… talk to him first.”

“Sooo,” Angel wiggled his brows. “How was the ride? You need to give me freaky deets.”

You threw a snowball on his face as he cackled.

Notes:

Various posts by lovely @willoryn have inspired this: Post 1, Post 2, Post 3

Chapter 7: Chapter VII

Summary:

Will the plan in motion go smoothly?

Notes:

CW: MDNI, Threesome (Angel!Lucifer x Reader x Lucifer), oral (both f and m), dp

 

The bed looked more like a chaotic war table than a place of rest.

Coloured papers were spread across the comforter—lavenders, blood reds, golden yellows and abyssal blacks, each scribbled with doodles, diagrams, and half-baked proposals. Lucifer was on his stomach, legs swinging up lazily behind him, chin resting on his palm.

Lucifer’s smile warmed, and his eyes lingered on you for just a second longer than necessary, still not quite over the fact that he had you like this. Beside him. In his bed. In his arms. Planning the future.

He cleared his throat and rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow. “Okay, so there’s already a court system in the Wrath Ring. Judgements are passed by the sins and Goetia princes.”

You turned to face him properly, propping yourself on your elbow. “Then we upgrade it. Add balance. The system’s rigged for nobility. What if we included everyone in the courtroom structure?”

Lucifer blinked. “Everyone? Like… everyone everyone?” He tilted his head playfully. 

You started sketching a rough diagram of a new courtroom. “Then we change the structure. Overlords should have a say, they manage entire territories. Sinners should have representation, since it’s them being judged. And I don’t care how elite the Goetia think they are, if Imps and Hellhounds live here, they should get a seat too.”

Lucifer rested his hand on your thigh, gazing up at you with a soft smile that didn’t quite hide the flicker of admiration behind it. “You really believe this could work.”

“I believe in us making it work.”

He sighed dreamily, hand slipping up to your waist. “You’re gonna make me fall for you all over again…”

“You say that every time I pitch reform.”

“Because it’s hot!” he said with full sincerity. “You, talking political justice? In bed? A man can only take so much.”

You chuckled, leaning down to press a quick kiss to his nose. “Behave.”

“Never,” he said brightly, then gave a thoughtful look. “But okay. You want seats for each class of Hell. That means four more judge thrones added to the Circle. We’ll have to rewrite ancient law. Probably piss off the Goetia. Ooh, Mammon’s going to hate this. I’m in.”

You blinked. “That’s it?”

He shrugged, pulling you gently back down to cuddle against him. “You’ve already convinced me, remember? All that’s left is logistics. And paperwork. Lots of it. Let’s just make sure the courtroom has decent space for everyone. And maybe… a snack bar?”

You laughed and shook your head. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, deeply lovable.”

You rolled your eyes but kissed his cheek.

*

Lucifer stood in front of the full-length mirror, frozen, as if his reflection might offer him a script or divine guidance.

He looked perfect, of course. Still, he fidgeted, adjusting his cufflinks for the third time, then rechecking the buttons on his vest like they’d somehow rearranged themselves.

You watched from the bed, propped up against the pillows, chin in hand and amusement glittering in your eyes.

Lucifer groaned dramatically. “I haven’t done this in centuries. What if I say something stupid? Charlie’s going with me. It’ll be the first time for a while we’ve presented something together. She’s...she’s so good at inspiring people. And I’m—”

You cupped his face gently, your thumbs brushing just beneath his eyes. “You’re brilliant. And now you’re trying. That’s what matters.”

Lucifer's gaze softened as he looked at you, melting into your touch. You stepped back slightly, brushing imaginary lint off his coat before fixing his collar just right. Then, with a smile, you rose on your toes and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. “For luck,” you whispered.

He smiled faintly. “I might need another one.”

You kissed him again, slower this time, and when you pulled back, you kept your hand resting against his chest. “And don’t forget to tell Charlie,” you added gently. “About us.”

Lucifer stiffened slightly, not in fear, but in that all-too-familiar awkward hesitance. “She sees us together all the time at the Hotel. Isn’t it...implied?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Luci.”

“Fine, fine!” he threw up his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll tell her.”

You smiled. “You’ll do fine.”

He looked at you like you’d just spoken truth straight into his heart. “You always say that.”

“Because it’s always true.”

Lucifer kissed your hand, lingering for a moment longer, as if drawing strength from your touch. Then he took a breath, straightened his shoulders, and conjured his staff in a burst of golden light.

He turned at the door, giving you one last grin. “If I survive this meeting, I expect cuddles.”

You smiled, folding your arms. “If you don’t tell Charlie about us, expect celibacy.”

Lucifer gasped. “Cruel woman.”

“Go,” you said with a wink. “You’ve got this.”

You went back to curl back onto the bed, thumbing through the notes you and Lucifer had scribbled during your last brainstorming session.

You were just starting on some paperwork on your own territory when you heard a slight scrape, too deliberate to be the wind. You didn’t move, didn’t even lift your eyes. But you heard it again. The faintest pressure against the window frame.

A heartbeat passed.

Then—PHWOOOOOSH!

A jet of searing golden flame shot upward from the rubber duck sitting innocently on the windowsill, which you’d placed there. Lucifer had given it to you the day you arrived at the Hotel, a ridiculous little welcome gift. You remembered him saying it with a wink later on: “Don’t underestimate Sir Quacketh. He’s more powerful than he looks.”

The assassin, a wiry imp in black leathers, crashed through the window, tumbling in with smoke curling off his scorched clothes. He rolled across the floor, smacking out flames and yelping curses, before coming to a stunned halt at your feet.

You glanced at the duck with fond amusement.

The assassin looked up at you, horror in his bulging eyes. “W-What the fuck—?! That thing nearly fried me!”

You finally smiled. “That ‘thing’ was a gift,” you said, “from the King of Hell. For me.”

He scrambled back, hands raised in surrender, blood and soot streaking across the floor. “W-Wait! I wasn’t— I mean, I didn’t know this was his room, I swear—!”

You tilted your head, stepping slowly off the bed, barefoot and graceful like a predator stretching after a nap. “Did you think you could creep into his  private chambers undetected?”

Your smile never faltered. “See, now I have a very personal reason to play.”

You crouched in front of him, lifting his chin with one sharp nail. “Don’t worry,” you cooed, conjuring shackles of obsidian to drag him toward the edge of the room. “This won’t kill you. Not until I want it to.”

You hummed a gentle tune as you summoned your tools.

*

The teleportation to the Wrath Ring had just finished fizzling out, leaving a faint shimmer of sulfur and ozone in the air. Lucifer adjusted the lapels of his suit as he walked beside Charlie, the sky of the Wrath Ring overhead swirling in orange hues.

It wasn’t his favorite place, and frankly, he’d avoided visiting it in person for… well, let’s just say many, many centuries.

Charlie walked ahead slightly, bouncing with her usual optimism despite the ominous environment. Lucifer sighed. His palms were sweating. He cleared his throat and spoke before he could think too hard about it. “Charlie?”

Charlie turned her head, eyebrows raised, “Yeah, Dad?”

Lucifer tried to play it cool, as he looked anywhere but her face. “I, ah, just thought… y’know, while we’re on the way to this oh-so-fun-and-not-at-all-tense council meeting, I should perhaps, possibly, definitely mention something.”

Charlie slowed down a bit, curious. “Okay…?”

Lucifer winced, smile twitching. “You see, I may be, hypothetically, romantically involved with someone. Just thought you should know.”

Silence.

Lucifer tried to backpedal, his hands flailing slightly. “And it’s not, like, a fling or anything—I wouldn’t insult her like that. It’s serious. Like, serious serious. And—and she’s very important to me, and I didn’t want you to find out through gossip or—”

Charlie blinked. Then burst into laughter.

Lucifer paused, stunned. “Wait, are you…are you laughing at me?”

Charlie waved her hand, still giggling. “Dad. C’mon. You two are not subtle.”

Lucifer’s eyes widened. “You—knew?!”

Charlie laughed. “Oh my God, Dad. You two are so obvious! The glances, the way you disappear together, the giddy faces… you literally had her lipstick on your very-white collar the other day.”

Lucifer coughed. “I thought I took that out—”

Charlie burst into giggles.

“I’m happy for you,” she said warmly, reaching up and hugging him tightly. “Really, I am.”

Lucifer stood still, blinking several times as he slowly, gingerly returned the hug—arms wrapping around her as if he still couldn’t believe it.

“You’re not mad?” he mumbled into her hair.

Charlie pulled back, frowning. “Why would I be mad? You deserve to be loved too, Dad.”

Lucifer swallowed thickly. His eyes shimmered faintly with something he wouldn’t name.  Lucifer stilled for half a second, then wrapped his arms around her tightly. His  heart felt lighter than it had in millennia.

________________________

Just as you turned to clean up the mess, a sudden whoosh of air shifted the room’s pressure.

A glowing golden portal opened midair. You instinctively raised your guard.

But instead of another attacker, someone floated down like a feather from the sky.

Robes white and blue shimmered with divine glow. Feathered wings tucked neatly behind his back. His halo glowed faintly overhead, and his eyes—not red but blue—gleamed with almost childlike wonder. 

He looked just like… well…An angel.

Lucifer? No. Not your Lucifer. Not quite.

He beamed at you. “Hello, dearest!”

You blinked.

What.

The.

Hell.

“Hi!” he chirped with a smile as bright as day. “I’m here because the other me didn’t want you to be lonely!”

You raised a brow. “Let me guess… clone?”

He nodded eagerly. “Uh-huh! He didn’t want to leave you alone while he and Charlie are away, so he conjured me from memory! Isn’t that sweet?”

Your eyes narrowed. “Memory? Which memory?”

“I think it was before I fell,” the clone replied cheerfully. “I was still experimenting with constellations! Or was it mushrooms? Either way, hi! I’ll be here with you until the real me returns. He was too happy…like he was in Eden, so I guess he conjured me.”

You sighed fondly. Lucifer had definitely not thought this one through.

You folded your arms, eyes scanning the soft baby-blue eyes and almost awkward posture. This version of Lucifer was… shy. Cheerful. Absolutely unprepared for the bloodbath you’d just mopped up.

Then his eyes landed on the blood coating your arms, the crimson splashes on your clothes. He let out a choked sound. “Oh—oh dear heavens,” he gasped, horrified.

You raised an eyebrow. He fluttered forward, hands outstretched, worried. “Are you alright? Did someone hurt you? Is this—Is this your blood?”

You wiped a bit of blood from your cheek with the back of your hand, half amused, half exhausted. “It’s an assassin’s blood. He broke in.”

Angel-Lucifer gasped. “Someone tried to hurt you?”

You shrugged. “They tried. Emphasis on tried.”

He beamed. “Of course they failed. You’re amazing!”

You tilted your head. “You really are the angelic version of him, huh?”

“Why thank you!” he chirped. Then, gasping again, he conjured a towel and immediately tried to clean the blood off your face. “No no no, we can’t have you looking like this—what if you slip? Blood is terrible for footing! And staining!”

He gently scrubbed your arms and conjured warm clothes. Finally, he stood back, nodding proudly at his work. “There. Perfect. Spotless.”

You sat on the couch, towel drying your hair after a quick shower, still amused by the celestial being cheerfully dusting your bookshelves.

Angel-Lucifer had been nothing short of doting since he arrived—he'd folded your blankets, organized your weapons drawer alphabetically, and even complimented your torture tools with a “marvelous craftsmanship, very symmetrical!”

“You know,” you said, smirking slightly, “the other you wanted me to show off the dresses he bought for me.”

Lucifer stopped mid-hover, head tilting with childlike excitement. “He did?!”

“Mhm,” you replied. “Said he picked some especially for me. Should I model one for you?”

His eyes sparkled. “Oh yes, yes please! That would be wonderful!”

Suppressing a laugh, you stepped into the bedroom, running your hand over the delicate fabrics hanging in the wardrobe. You chose one of the more elegant ones. The neckline was modest, sleeves soft and flowing. 

You stepped back into the room. Lucifer turned and promptly dropped the tray of cookies he’d summoned. His jaw went slack. His wings stiffened with a visible tremble. “Oh—oh God—”

You blinked. “Too much?”

His jaw dropped slightly, lips parted in a soft gasp. “You look… divine.”

You laughed. “It’s not even the sexy one.”

“That doesn’t matter!” he said a little too loudly. His voice cracked at the end, and he cleared his throat with a bright golden blush blooming across his face.

Then your eyes dipped lower. And there it was. The bulge in his robes.

Oh?

He seemed entirely unaware for a moment, until he noticed where your gaze had landed.

He froze. You raised an amused eyebrow.

Lucifer let out a squeaky, “OH DEAR,” and immediately slapped both hands over the front of his robes like a child caught with stolen candy.

You couldn’t help it, you laughed until your ribs ached. Lucifer buried his face in a pillow. His wings twitched, as if trying to shield him from the weight of his own embarrassment.

And gods, it was flattering. You hadn't even worn something seductive. Hadn't even tried.

Your lips curled. “Do you want some help, honey?” you asked, voice smooth, casual.

He peeked over the pillow. “Help…?” he squeaked. “With—what exactly?”

You sauntered closer, slow. “With that tension of yours.”

His eyes went huge. “I—wait, no—are you—seriously—?”

You only nodded. “I’ll be gentle,” you said. “Just let me see you.”

He hesitated, but your gaze, and the gentle brush of your hand down his chest, undid whatever resistance he had left. Slowly, he lifted his robes, and your eyes widened as you took in what lay beneath.

Around his flushed, golden-tipped cock was a curious celestial adornment—three soft, glowing wing-like crests fluttering like a modesty veil, now fluttered open from arousal. It was… oddly beautiful. Like every part of him, even here, had been sculpted in divinity.

He looked down at himself and immediately panicked again. “I know! I look ridiculous, don’t I?!”

You gave a soft laugh, and shook your head. “No, dear. You look stunning.”

And then, slowly, you leaned forward, placing a kiss just above his navel. He gasped.

You glanced up through your lashes. “Just relax, angel. Let me take care of you.”

His voice was already trembling. “O-okay.”

Your kisses trailed lower, down the lines of his abdomen. The moment your lips finally brushed over his cock, he gasped, one hand flying to his mouth to stifle the embarrassing whimper that escaped.

The wings around his cock trembled and fluttered as if trying to shyly cover him again, but you brushed them aside with a soft kiss and began to tease him with slow licks.

His hips jerked, and he let out a breathy, “Oh God—” muffled by the back of his hand.

He squirmed and whimpered like the sweetest thing you’d ever heard, biting his lip, chest rising and falling in flustered waves. He moaned your name like a prayer, his hands finally gripping the sheets as he whispered all kinds of sweet nothings.

A slow lick up his length made him whimper, and he covered his mouth again with his hand. His other hand gripped the pillow beside him like it was the only thing anchoring him to the moment.

You pulled back slightly, just enough to murmur, “You're adorable, you know that?”

He let out a strangled sound. “Nghhh - love, please –”

You chuckled, warmth dancing in your chest. “But you’re doing so well, angel.”

You took him into your mouth again, slow and steady, and the reaction was immediate. His head fell back, lips parted in a helpless gasp, hips twitching despite himself. 

“Y-you’re…Mnghhg…” he breathed, sounding like he was moments from transcending into another realm entirely. “P-please,” he whimpered softly, “I can’t—”

“Just let go, honey,” you whispered against his skin. “Let me have this.”

And with a broken moan that nearly cracked into a sob, he did.

His wings spasmed outward and he bucked once, twice, before spilling over with a quiet, desperate cry of your name. You held him through it, letting him ride it out, soothing him with your touch as he collapsed back into the pillows, boneless and overwhelmed.

You kissed his hip one last time and crawled up beside him. His arms instantly wrapped around you like a koala, clinging.

*

The meeting with the Sins had ended.

Barely.

Mammon wouldn’t stop talking, Beelzebub was halfway into a sugar crash, and Satan had nearly flung the table at Asmodeus. Business as usual. But Lucifer had held it together, until he felt something odd. A flush of warmth, a spike of tension in his chest, a stuttering beat like his body was responding to something... familiar.

His eyes widened, realization washing over him.

Oh. Oh no.

Charlie tilted her head, concerned. “Dad? You okay? You look—”

“I—I’m fine, dear,” Lucifer managed with a shaky smile. “I think I’ll retire to my room early.”

He barely waited for her nod before he portaled away. Landing in his room, Lucifer blinked once. You were curled under the blankets, tangled in the arms of... him. Well, his clone. The sweet, glowing angel-form of himself. Looked like he conjured it without thinking it clearly.

The clone's robe was askew, wings twitching in the aftermath of what could only have been one hell of an intimate session. Your fingers were still gently carding through the clone's hair.

“Now, now…” he drawled, far too casual. “I leave for a few hours and find you in bed with... me?”

You opened your mouth to explain, probably something very logical and well-meant but Lucifer only smirked, far too calm.

“Oh, dove, you’ve been so naughty,” he purred. “Don’t you know it’s impolite to tease your king without offering him his due?”

He glanced down at the angelic clone, who blinked up at him with wide-eyed innocence. “I—I didn’t mean to—!” Angel-Lucifer stammered, flustered and adorably glowing.

Lucifer gave him a wink. “Oh, I know. You’re me, after all. You very well meant to.” His eyes flicked to you with a grin both wicked and smug.

You scooted up, your gaze half-challenging, half-trying not to laugh.

Lucifer leaned back, legs crossed, his cane resting across his lap. “Well?” he said with a crooked grin, eyes glinting like mischief itself. “Go on. Don’t mind me.”

At those words, his angel self lit up like a child told he could finally open his birthday presents. “Really?!” he beamed. “Oh—oh, thank you!”

You couldn’t help the chuckle that left you, right before the angel gently pushed your thighs apart, his breath catching at the sight of you. His hands trembled slightly as they brushed along your skin, and his expression turned awestruck, almost… dazed.

The angel lowered his mouth to you, with a soft whimper of delight the moment his tongue met your slick heat.

Your hand tangled in his hair, coaxing him lower. You didn’t miss the little tremor in his shoulders as he obeyed, mouth finding your clit with a shaky breath and a whimper. The angel let out a muffled moan against your pussy. His tongue moved in slow, desperate circles, soft gasps escaping him between licks.

You let out a soft gasp as Angel-Lucifer’s tongue flicked over your clit just right and Lucifer’s brows shot up. “Oh? That spot, was it? Noted,” he said, grinning.

Angel-Lucifer whimpered again, louder this time. He was panting into you now, lips shiny and slick, and completely undone by your taste.

You arched up into the angel’s mouth, nails raking lightly through his hair, and Lucifer's grin turned wicked. “You’re just full of surprises, sweetheart.”

Your eyes flicked to him, breathless but smug. “Jealous?”

Lucifer laughed loudly. “Of myself? Never! I'm enjoying the show, darling. Carry on.”

Angel-Lucifer moaned again, deeper, fingers digging into your thighs now as he fucked you with his mouth like he was starving for you, like he couldn’t help himself anymore.

Your moan spilled out before you could stop it, hips rising, breath catching, your thighs trembling under the angel’s tongue as he whined into your pussy.

“L-Lucifer,” you gasped, head tipping back… then turning, seeking him.

“Oh?” he cooed. “Is one not enough for you, darling?” But he was already standing. His coat slipped off with a whisper of fabric, and his cane vanished like smoke. He crossed the room in a few slow steps, joining you on the bed.

You were half-gone already, lips parted and eyes half-lidded from the overwhelming pleasure of the angel's mouth still latched to your pussy, but the moment Lucifer climbed onto the mattress beside you, your body reached for him instinctively.

He cupped your cheek. “I missed you, you know,” he murmured, lowering his lips to your neck, trailing kisses down your collarbone. His lips reached your breasts, and he sighed like a man finally home. 

He kissed over the swell of one breast, then the other—slow, doting, entirely enamored, before flicking his tongue gently over your nipple. You shivered, moaning louder as his angelic self below you whimpered at the sound and sucked harder, more desperately.

You tugged him close by his vest, and he groaned. “I love your taste,” he whispered against your skin, grinning softly. “I mean that. It’s nice that I can say it out loud now while he’s still busy licking it straight from the source.”

Your gasp hitched into a laugh, just before another moan broke free. “Luci—”

“I know,” he whispered, lips brushing yours. “I know, sweetheart.”

You kissed him, deep and aching and as his clone whimpered into you, your body spasmed with release, thighs clamping around his head.

You came hard, moaning into Lucifer’s mouth as he kissed you back sweetly, holding your face in his hands like you were his most sacred thing.

Lucifer practically scooped you up. You laughed into his neck, arms around his shoulders, glad to have him back. You both just stayed for a while, breathing each other in. For all this teasing, you’ll get back at him. You grind your soaked core down over the thick press of his cock.

“Oh, fuck—darling—” Lucifer whimpered, hips jerking upward. His teasing tone faltered for a beat, and it made you smirk.

“What?” you purred in his ear, rolling your hips again. “You enjoyed the show a little too much.”

You straddled him fully now, hands braced on his chest, lowering onto his cock inch by inch, watching his face twist in sweet agony.

Lucifer’s head thunked back against the pillows. “Oh my god. I’ve been good, darling. I’ve been so good. Please—ah, fuck, love—”

Your moan joined his as you sank fully onto him, your body clenching around his length. You began to ride him, hips moving in a delicious rhythm, skin slapping against his as his hands held your waist like a lifeline.

“I… I can’t take it anymore,” Angel-Lucifer whispered, crawling up behind you, breath ghosting over your spine. “You’re so beautiful—I just—I can’t stop—”

You felt the soft glide of his fingers on your ass, spreading you gently before one slick lubed finger circled your tight hole. You gasped, bucking on Lucifer’s cock and he shuddered, gripping your hips even tighter.

Lucifer chuckled breathlessly. “NGGHH… can’t resist you. Can’t say I blame him.”

Angel-Lucifer pressed kisses up your back, toward your neck.

“I love you,” Lucifer whispered, voice soft as he kissed you again. 

You barely managed a breath before you felt it—the soft, careful push of the angel’s cock, pressing against your back hole. “Is this okay?” he whispered, voice cracking like he was on the verge of tears and bliss all at once. “Please… I need to be inside you too…”

And you nodded, dizzy, thighs quivering as he slid in. Inch by inch, he sank into you, his breath catching. You moaned, collapsing against Lucifer’s chest, trembling all over. “Too much, too good—ohgodfuckkk…”

“Divine,” the angel moaned, thrusting gently, as if he couldn’t believe this wasn’t a dream. “You’re divine—so warm—thank you, thank you for letting me—”

Lucifer kissed your temple. “You're—gorgeous—so good—I can't believe I get to have you—fuck, I love you—”, Lucifer was babbling now, his voice high and shaking, barely able to string together words through his whimpers. “Fuck, you feel—too good—I’m gonna—please, sweetheart—”

You clenched around him instinctively, and he cried out. His fingers dug into your hips as his body arched beneath you.

You felt the rush of heat flood inside you, his face buried in your neck, soft gasps spilling against your skin as he came. And then behind you, the angel shuddered violently, hugging your waist from behind. “I—me too—!” he gasped, kissing your spine as his rhythm stuttered. “I can’t—I can’t hold it—!”

With a trembling cry, he came as well, his cum spilling hot and thick inside you. You could barely breathe as you came hard.

Your body sank into his as the last of your strength gave away, warm, sated, and full in every sense. Lucifer’s arms were already wrapping around you, pulling the blanket over both of you.

Behind you, the angel clone lingered with a gentle kiss to your shoulder until Lucifer snapped his fingers, and the clone was gone. He tucked your head under his chin and sighed, as if he hadn’t taken a single breath since he left.

You lay there in silence for a moment. His fingers traced slow, absentminded circles across your back, grounding you, while his heartbeat thudded steadily beneath your cheek.

“So,” you mumbled sleepily, “how was the meeting?”

Lucifer let out the most dramatic sigh known, arm flung across his forehead. “Oh my God, I nearly died from boredom. Ugh.”

You tilted your head down. “That bad?”

“I’ve fought angels with more sense,” he groaned, snuggling closer to your chest. “They tried so hard to cling to the old system. Called your suggestion ‘radical.’’

“But anyway—yes. I got them to agree. They’re restructuring the court. Full seats for Overlords, imps, sinners. All of it.”

You sat up slightly, eyes wide. “Wait, seriously?”

Lucifer immediately beamed. “Seriously. Because you asked.”

Your heart gave a small, dangerous flutter. 

His voice lowered. “I wanted to leave as soon as I got there, honestly. But then I thought about you. About what you said. And I—I just kept pushing. Because it mattered to you. And that made it matter to me.”

You wrapped your arms tighter around him, and his whole body eased into yours like he’d been waiting for this moment all day.

“I missed you,” he mumbled. “The meeting sucked. The coffee was lukewarm. But worst of all? No you. You’re my favorite part.”

You kissed him, and he made another one of those stupidly happy little whines before squeezing you tighter.

He was staring at the ceiling, brows knit together, lips parted like he didn’t quite know how to start. You looked up. “Lucifer?”

“I’ve scheduled a meeting,” he said finally. “With Heaven.”

You blinked and sat up. “You—what?”

Your mouth opened but nothing came out. You knew this was the direction you were heading. But…

“You already arranged it?” you asked, stunned. 

“...And you’re coming with me…?”

Your mouth parted. “What? Really?!”

“I’m not going without you,” he said. “I don’t want to go to any meeting without you. But especially not this one.”

He exhaled, his voice cracking, just a little. “You know what that place meant. What it took. I—I can’t promise it won’t hurt to be there again. I don’t know how it’ll feel. But I know this: I’ll survive it if you’re with me.”

Lucifer smiled, but it was small, quiet, almost fragile. “I know how important this part is to you. And to me.”

Your chest tightened all at once. He was doing this for you. Because he believed in your vision. Because he was willing to walk back into the one place that had cast him out, just to support your dream.

You moved before he could say anything else, throwing your arms around him. You buried your face in his neck.

Lucifer let out a small breath of surprise, then melted into you like a thread pulled loose. His arms wrapped around your waist, like he never wanted to let go.

Chapter 8: Chapter VIII

Summary:

If it’s a war they want, then that’s what they will get.

Notes:

MDNI, pegging, Soft! Dom reader, Canon-Typical Violence.

Lucifer paced in front of the tall mirror in his room, adjusting the cuffs of his coat for the third time. 

Charlie wasn’t coming on this trip. The Hazbin Hotel was finally receiving an influx of new guests, and she’d offered, no–insisted on managing the paperwork for the restructured Wrath court while they were gone.

“She’ll do well,” Lucifer said softly. “Better than me. Always does.”

He rubbed the back of his neck and stared at the ceiling. Heaven. The word alone made his stomach twist. And yet… this time, he wasn’t going alone.

He sat up when he heard steady footsteps. Lucifer turned and froze. His heart actually skipped. You stood in the doorway, radiant in white and gold dress. His colours. Lucifer’s mouth parted slightly. He forgot to breathe.

Oh. Oh, no.

He was in danger.

You tilted your head. “Luci?”

He shook his head slowly, eyes wide, throat dry. “You’re going to kill me.”

Lucifer nearly dropped to his knees. His mind was screaming.

Take her. No! You’ll wrinkle the dress! She won’t mind! YOU HAVE A MEETING WITH HEAVEN, FOCUS.

You stepped in front of him, fixing his collar. He watched your fingers. He was breathing too hard. Everything inside him screamed for your closeness. 

Do NOT ruin that dress. Be a gentleman. Be dignified. Be—

“I love it,” he blurted. “I mean, the dress,” he clarified. “Not that I don’t always love looking at you. You’d look beautiful anything, or nothing — WAIT I DIDN’T MEAN –”

You chuckled.

Lucifer cleared his throat and stepped back a little, not because he wanted distance, but because if he didn’t create space, there’d be no Heaven meeting. Just you, him, and his comfy bed. He inhaled sharply…he wasn’t the one to blame here… TOPMETOPMETOPME—

You noticed and stepped forward, slow and deliberate. Lucifer visibly stiffened. “You—You know we have a meeting. A political, stressful—”

You were right in front of him now, looking up with that mischievous glint in your eye. You trailed your fingers up his chest, feeling the tension coil beneath his skin like live wire. “You’ve done so much for me,” you whispered. “You deserve a reward, honey.”

He whimpered. “I—no—yes—Wait!” he sputtered. “You’re not playing fair—”

“I’m not playing at all,” you purred, fingers already undoing the top clasp of his collar.

He groaned like he was in pain. “You are so cruel.”

You kissed him. It started slow, teasing, coaxing. His lips moved hungrily against yours. He didn’t even try to stop you when your hands pushed him back onto his red sheets. 

“You sure we have time for this?” you asked, straddling him slowly.

“I don’t care,” he whispered, completely gone.

He reached for the hem of your dress, reverently sliding the fabric up your thighs as he kissed down your neck. You ground your hips gently against his, and he gasped. His hands tightened on your thighs.

You reached between your bodies, finding him already hard beneath his slacks. He trembled when you palmed him through the fabric, whimpering against your skin. You undid the fastenings of his trousers, freeing him with a slow, purposeful stroke.

You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, then his jaw, then lower, along his throat.

“I want to take care of you,” you murmured, voice rich and low. “Completely. Can I?”

Lucifer blinked at you, already gold to the tips of his ears. “You mean—?”

“Mhm.” You pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder. “Turn over for me.”

His eyes widened. “I—are you sure? I mean, I—”

Your one hand cradled the back of his neck, the other gently running down his spine. “It’s okay if you don’t want to. We can do–”

Slowly, nervously, he shifted, turning over beneath your guidance, resting his head on one of the fluffy pillows.

“Good boy,” you whispered, and he whimpered.

You trailed kisses down his back, soft and lingering. He shivered with each one.

“I’ve got you,” you said, as your lips met the small of his back. “Relax for me.”

He nodded wordlessly, his breath trembling.

From the bedside drawer, you retrieved a small bottle of lube. You poured some into your palm. “I’m not—oh golly,” he gasped, hips twitching as you circled his hole slowly, deliberately. 

“You’re beautiful like this,” you murmured. “I want to see all of you. Feel all of you.”

You leaned down, kissing between his shoulder blades while your slick fingers slid lower, teasing the tight ring of muscle. His body bowed slightly under your touch.

“Still doing okay?” you asked softly.

He nodded quickly, voice wrecked when he answered, “Please don’t stop.”

You pressed a finger in, slowly, carefully, letting him adjust to the stretch. He was warm and tight around you, and so responsive, whimpering into the pillow, his hips rocking gently against your fingers.

“Look at you,” you purred. “So pretty. For me.”

You added a second finger, scissoring them gently, and he let out a soft, broken moan. “I’m—ah—oh God—”

“You’re doing so well,” you praised, kissing your way up his spine again, your other hand stroking his hip. “Do you want more?”

He nodded, desperate now. You kissed the back of his neck. “Say it.”

“I want you,” he breathed. “Please… take me.”

He looked ethereal even like this. Especially like this. Laid bare beneath you, his flushed skin warm beneath your palms, his whole body drawn taut in surrender.

“You’re doing so well for me.” you murmured, your voice soft, dripping with praise.

A sound escaped him,  half-moan, half-whimper as your fingers worked deeper. You were careful. Slow. Coaxing him open with steady pressure and circling strokes, easing your fingers in and out while his thighs trembled. He tried to bury his face deeper in the pillow, embarrassed by every soft, wrecked noise he made.

“I—oh mmngh—” he gasped, hips jerking as your fingers curled just right. His back arched like a bow. “I c-can’t—this feels—too good—”

You reached deeper, curling your fingers again…this time pressing slow and firm into that sweet spot that made him cry out. His entire body tensed around you. You smiled, wicked and soft all at once. He was panting now, completely at your mercy, gripping the sheets beneath him.

His body was loose now, open, slick, trembling with need. Perfect.

You leaned down again, your voice sweet in his ear. “You’re ready, honey,” you whispered. “Do you want me to fill you up?”

He nodded frantically, hips moving of their own accord.

But you clicked your tongue playfully. “Words, Luci. Use your words.”

He turned his face slightly, flushed and glowing with embarrassment and pleasure. “Please… I want you inside me. I need it. I need you.”

Lucifer was already breathless, laid out beneath your gaze like some precious offering.

You leaned down to kiss him, slow and deep, your hand gently stroking down his spine, feeling each shiver that rolled through him. “You trust me?” you whispered against his lips.

His breath hitched. “Always.”

Your fingers brushed over the black box on the bedside table, and Lucifer’s eyes followed, slowly widening as you flipped it open to reveal what you had brought.

The strap-on was elegant. Lucifer made a soft sound in the back of his throat.

Lucifer moaned, helplessly, just at the sight of you standing above him like that — confident, radiant, in control. You reached for the lube with one hand to apply on the dildo as you wore the strap-on, your other running slowly down his thigh as he shifted beneath you, shy but visibly aching.

“Are you still good, sweetheart?” you murmured.

His voice came out shaky but sure. “Y-Yes. Just... overwhelmed.”

You kissed him again, soft, slow, grounding. “I’ll take care of you.”

Your fingers returned to where he was already stretched and slick from before and this time, when the thick tip of the toy pressed against him, his body responded like it had been starved.

You moved slowly. Let him feel every inch. Let him whimper, gasp, moan your name as you sank into him. “Mine,” you whispered in his ear. “All of you.”

Lucifer sobbed softly, burying his face in the pillow. “Yes... yes, I’m yours... I’m—fuckfuck—”

You set a slow, deep rhythm, one hand on his hip, the other pressed to his lower back, steady and warm. He was trembling beneath you, overwhelmed and wrecked in the most beautiful way and yet, he arched into every thrust, craving more.

Every stroke pulled another sweet, sinful sound from him and god, he sounded beautiful like this. Your hands were firm on his hips. His ass was flushed gold from your grip.

He was already wrecked, his voice reduced to broken, breathless moans with each motion of your body and the sound he made when you adjusted your angle just slightly, brushing perfectly against that sweet, hidden spot inside him, was nothing short of divine.

“Luci,” you breathed, your fingers digging in a little harder. “You feel so good like this.”

His reply was a soft, keening noise and aching for more.

“Use your words, darling,” you said, leaning forward just enough for your chest to press to his back, your breath hot at the base of his neck. “Tell me what you want.”

“I–I want you to keep going,” he whispered, voice trembling. “I want to be good for you. Please... don’t stop.”

Your hand slid up his spine as your hips moved again, slow and deliberate, the friction making him sob into the sheets. His moans were desperate now, his voice barely coherent as you thrust into him again, and again, and again.

“Faster,” he whimpered, hips rocking back into you. “Please—please, I want—wanna cum, please—”

You leaned forward and the moment your fingers curled gently around his neck, Lucifer moaned. He arched beneath you, utterly undone.

“You sound so pretty when you beg,” you whispered against his ear.

Your pace quickened, each motion now deliberate and punishing in its rhythm. The slap of skin, the desperate noises he couldn’t contain….it was all yours. 

Lucifer came undone with your name on his lips, back arching as he spilled beneath him, moaning so sweet and helpless you thought you might break from the sound alone.

His body collapsed with a shudder, face buried in the sheets, golden hair tangled, flushed and utterly spent. His cock twitched beneath him, streaks of his release warm on the expensive silk.

You stayed close, your hands soothing over his back.  “You alright, dear?” you murmured, soft and teasing.

A muffled noise came from the pillow. “Mm-hmm.”

You chuckled, slipping your arms under his shoulders to help ease him onto his side. His eyes were glazed, lips kiss-bruised and parted as he let himself be gathered into your arms.

“Did I hurt you?” you asked, brushing hair from his face.

He shook his head immediately, cheeks still flushed, but eyes warm. “No. Never.”

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Good.”

The two of you lay there in silence for a while. His breathing slowed. Your hand stroked his side. You could feel the subtle warmth of his heartbeat beneath your palm.

You helped him clean up, gently wiping sweat from his skin, helping him to his feet while he attempted to fix his hair in the mirror.

You watched with amusement as he struggled to tame the wild strands you had thoroughly wrecked. There’s no way anyone could ignore the glow on his face.

You chuckled and gave his butt a playful smack.

“Ah—!” He whipped his head around, eyes wide and scandalized. “Did you just—?!”

You grinned. “What? Just making sure the King of Hell can still walk.”

“I—of course I can walk,” he huffed, trying to sit up, only to wince slightly as he adjusted his hips. You raised an eyebrow. “Mmhm. You sure? Want me to carry you?”

Lucifer glared, but it lacked any real heat. He reached for the bedsheet and half-draped it over himself like some offended Victorian heroine. You both started to get ready again.

_______________________________

The portal shimmered ahead of you, tall and still and glowing with a soft gold light. Lucifer stood still beside you, quiet for longer than usual.

You didn’t rush him. He stared at it with a blank expression. You touched his arm gently. “You’ll do okay,” you said.

That got his attention.

He looked at you, and this time, his eyes were clearer. Still a little distant  like he was sorting through the noise in his head but more grounded. His expression faltered for a second like he didn’t expect that kind of quiet assurance. Like part of him still believed he had to face it alone.

“I know this place hurt you,” you continued. “I know there’s nothing I can say that takes that away. I can’t rewrite it. And I’m not here to pretend it didn’t matter.”

You reached for his hand and he let you take it, fingers warm and slightly tense in yours. “But I’m here now. And I’m walking with you. Wherever you go, I go too.”

Lucifer’s shoulders loosened, just a little. Then, finally, a soft smile curved his lips. “You’re really not afraid of much, are you?” he said.

You shook your head once. “Only losing you.”

He stared at you a second longer. Then, with a quiet breath, he nodded  and turned toward the portal again. “Alright,” he said. “Let’s go piss off Heaven.”

You laughed gently, and Lucifer grinned as he squeezed your hand. With one last glance at you, that lingering, steady look he only ever gave you, he stepped forward.

And the two of you crossed into Heaven together.

*

The gates were taller than you expected — wide and gleaming, polished like they were cleaned hourly by angels with too much time. The Pearly Gates.

As the two of you stepped up, the heavy gates didn’t open automatically. Instead, a figure emerged –St. Peter.

He looked up and immediately stopped walking when he saw who was standing in front of him. His eyes went wide. “...Lucifer?” he asked, voice just a little higher than it had any right to be.

Lucifer gave a tight, awkward smile and lifted a hand in a tiny wave. “Hey, Pete.”

St. Peter stared like he’d just seen a ghost. “And you’re not—uh—you’re not supposed to be—”

“I know.”

You pressed your lips together, trying not to laugh. You could feel Lucifer’s nerves next to you, not fear, exactly, but the same kind of discomfort people get when they have to show up at a reunion they didn’t want to attend.

“I’m here for the scheduled meeting,” Lucifer added, gesturing vaguely toward the gates.

St. Peter looked down at his book, flipping through pages. “Right. Yes. Let me just… confirm that…”

Then Peter’s eyes flicked to you. “And, um… who’s this?”

You froze for a split second. You hadn’t prepared an introduction. You weren’t exactly on Heaven’s invite list, and you were pretty sure “I’m with him” wouldn’t cut it.

“I—” you began, searching for something that sounded appropriate.

“She’s my fiancée,” Lucifer cut in smoothly.

You whipped your head toward him. He was very obviously not looking at you. You could see the gold flush crawling up his ears.

St. Peter blinked slowly, thrown off by both the title and the hand-holding. “Your…what now?”

“Yes,” Lucifer said quickly, as if saying it faster would make it more true. “All very official.”

You were still staring at him, trying very hard not to blush while your hand remained in his. Lucifer gave it the tiniest squeeze.

You finally found your voice and muttered under your breath, “You couldn’t have said assistant?”

“I panicked,” he whispered back, eyes still facing forward.

St. Peter, still clearly reeling, cleared his throat and scribbled something into the book. “...Right. Yes, I suppose that’s… fine.”

Lucifer tugged your hand gently, guiding you forward. The gates creaked open behind Peter, who was still blinking in disbelief. The gates closed behind you with a quiet hum, the soft light of Heaven washing over everything in a way that felt less comforting and more… clinical. Clean. Polished. Like even your thoughts were being scrubbed.

The stillness was broken by the sound of light footsteps.

“Lucifer,” she said, tone polite but neutral.

Lucifer offered a small nod. “Sera.”

Her gaze shifted to you. “And… this is?”

Lucifer’s fingers tightened almost imperceptibly around yours.

“She’s with me,” Lucifer said quickly, standing a little straighter beside you. “Officially.”

There was a pause.

Sera blinked once. Then turned without a word. “This way.” 

Soon, they reached the meeting hall. Michael, sharp-eyed and silent, paused in conversation as his expression shifted the second he saw Lucifer. His face softened as he smiled. Not politely. Not stiffly. But warm and real. Lucifer was smiling back, wide and open in a way you hadn't seen since arriving here.

Then Michael turned his gaze to you. His smile didn’t falter. It lingered, kind, calm, and genuine and you blinked in surprise. After the cool reception at the gates and the watchful silence of the other archangels, you hadn’t expected warmth from anyone. You smiled back, a little cautiously.

Raphael, Uriel, Gabriel stiffened as soon as they saw Lucifer. You could almost hear the temperature drop. Yeah, this was gonna be a long one. Ugh.

The council chamber was quiet, too quiet. The kind of stillness that made every step echo like thunder. Lucifer hesitated but came forward first. The archangels watched him with unreadable expressions — some cautious, some curious, and a few clearly on edge.

His voice was calm. “There is no longer a need for extermination.”

Several heads tilted. A few brows lifted.

Lucifer continued without flinching. “Hell will judge its own from now on. We’ve created a court that includes all voices… Everyone who lives there will have a say. That’s what this project is. That’s what she—” he turned slightly, smiling faintly as he looked at you “—is leading.”

Then he stepped aside, his gaze steady as he motioned to you.

The room turned its attention your way. You took a breath, your heart steady beneath the weight of so many eyes. “We’ve spent too long thinking punishment and redemption can only come from above.”

You looked at each of them in turn, not challenging, just unwavering. “This isn’t about justifying sin. It’s about accountability. Healing. Choice. Extermination wipes all of us out, it’s without judgement and full of cruelty.”

You let that silence stretch for just a second.

“We’re not asking Heaven to fix Hell. We’re asking that it let us. That it finally trusts us to do what you never could: understand what redemption really looks like. Charlie Morningstar, Lucifer’s daughter, is way ahead in that matter.”

Lucifer gave you the softest, most stupidly proud look you’d ever seen him wear.

But inside, he was unravelling. And all he could think was: I’ve been here before.

So many times, centuries ago. Standing right where you were — a little louder, maybe. Talking about new ideas and potential. And every time, he was dismissed. Rejected. Disgraced.

And all he could think was: What if they reject her, too?

You were trying to do what he couldn’t. And he wanted to shield you from the fallout more than anything else.

He glanced sideways at the archangels. Michael was listening closely, jaw tight but unreadable. Uriel hadn’t moved at all. Gabriel looked thoughtful. Sera, as always, impossible to read. 

After you finished up, you felt pretty good… it wasn’t that terrible…

No nods, no questions. Just silence. Then it cracked. Gabriel let out a breath — a short, disbelieving huff that turned into full-blown laughter. Uriel joined him moments later, arms crossed, his smile sharp with condescension.

“Oh, Lucifer,” Gabriel said, shaking his head. “You really haven’t changed, have you?”

Lucifer didn’t move.

Uriel stepped forward, boots echoing on the polished floor. “How many times have we taught you that this idealistic bullshit never works?”

He didn’t meet their eyes. But he didn’t defend himself either.

And that’s what made it worse.

You saw it. The stillness behind his eyes. The silence not born of calm, but of exhaustion. He’s heard this before, you realized. A thousand times. In this very room.

Uriel stepped forward, pacing slightly, clearly enjoying himself now. “There is no fairness in Hell. There never was. The idea that it could be governed justly—by the likes of sinners and demons and his little—” he glanced at you, voice full of contempt “—project? It’s laughable.”

Gabriel nodded. “You fell, Lucifer. That alone disqualifies you. You lost your seat in Heaven, your judgment, your authority.”

And still, Lucifer said nothing. He looked like he wanted to run out this instant.

Your hands clenched. “That’s enough.”

They didn’t want reason. They didn’t want the truth. They just wanted to tear him down — the same way they had before. You could feel the way they looked at him. With judgment. 

Uriel turned toward you next, tone dripping with smug finality. “You speak well,” he said, like it was an insult. “But you’re deluded if you think Hell deserves fairness. And Hell—” he smiled coldly, “—has no place in deciding what is good.”

You didn’t remember deciding to speak.

Your demonic voice just came out, “I SAID, STOP.”

The air in the chamber dropped ten degrees in an instant.

A gust swept across the floor like a breath of deep winter, and ice began to bloom — sharp and jagged, curling out from beneath your feet in rapid, branching veins that split across the white marble like lightning frozen in place.

The council table groaned. Chairs shuddered backward. But the part that no one was expecting was when a single shard of ice shot forward, slicing clean across Uriel’s outstretched hand.

He yelped and jerked backward. A single jagged spike of ice zipped past him and the razor edge nicked his fingertip. He stared at it, stunned. A single drop of angelic gold blood welled at the tip.

The room went still.

Everyone’s eyes locked onto it. Onto him. Onto you. And suddenly, you couldn’t breathe.

Your ice — your magic….it wasn’t supposed to touch them. Not angels and definitely not archangels. They were supposed to be untouchable.

The panic started in your chest and climbed into your throat. The silence that followed was terrifying. Uriel stared down at his hand, his face paling. not from pain, but from shock. Gabriel looked stunned. Even Michael looked uneasy.

You took a step back, suddenly cold for a different reason.

You hadn’t even meant to hurt anyone. You’d just wanted them to shut up. To stop sneering. To stop looking at Lucifer like he was something less.

“Hey. Hey—look at me.” Lucifer’s voice was soft but urgent as he stepped forward and pulled you behind him, shielding you with his body without hesitation. 

Your heart was pounding. “I’m sorry,” you said, breath shaky. “I didn’t mean to—”

“You don’t need to apologise,” Lucifer said, his hand behind him, finding yours. “Just breathe. I’ve got you.”

Gabriel was still staring at the blood on Uriel’s hand. Uriel looked furious now, but unsure of what to say because the truth was impossible. 

Sera stood. Her voice was sharp, clipped  and laced with alarm. “This is exactly what we feared.”

You flinched. Lucifer tensed in front of you.

“She didn’t mean to,” Michael said from his place at the head of the table. His tone was steady, measured but there was something strained beneath it. “It was a reflex. She didn’t know.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Sera replied tightly, her wings twitching. “She’s unstable.”

Uriel stood abruptly, chair nearly toppling behind him. “Then we detain her,” he snapped.

Your breath caught. “What?” you whispered, taking a step back.

Uriel's eyes burned cold. “She is too dangerous to be left unchecked. We’ll hold her here until we understand the extent of her power or until she can prove she poses no threat to Heaven.”

“No,” Lucifer said quietly.

Uriel opened his mouth again—

Lucifer’s wings unfurled in a single motion — massive, red and white and shimmering with a faint glow. Horns curled upward and his eyes—those usually amused, clever, soft eyes—burned a vivid, furious red.

When he spoke, it was laced with his demonic voice. “STAY AWAY FROM HER.”

Uriel instinctively stepped back. Even Sera’s jaw tightened. Michael didn’t move but his eyes were suddenly full of old grief. Your heart thundered behind him. You had never heard his demon voice before. 

Raphael said coldly, “This is an act of war.”

Lucifer stiffened beside you.

“Don’t,” Michael said quickly, rising from his seat. “No one is starting a war. No one is making declarations—”

But he was cut off as Uriel stormed down with Gabriel close behind. Both had drawn their weapons, blinding blades humming with divine energy. No posturing now. No diplomacy.

“You should never have come back,” Uriel snarled.

Lucifer raised a hand, standing between you and them. “Put your weapons down.”

Your pulse had steadied now, no longer panicked, just braced. If they wanted a fight, they would get one.

“I said that’s enough!” Michael shouted.

But he was ignored. Raphael unsheathed his blade at last, wordlessly.

Uriel lunged at Lucifer, blade raised and Lucifer blocked it with a flash of his magic.

Your hand snapped forward, ice arcing like lightning across the chamber floor. It caught Raphael before he could reach Lucifer, freezing around his ankle. He slipped with a grunt, crashing to one knee, and you yanked your hand back, dragging him to the floor like a puppet on a string.

You’ll always have his back.

Lucifer twisted around mid-fight, catching a strike from Gabriel and launching a pulse of energy that knocked him clean across the room. 

Uriel came at him again, blade slicing close, too close and Lucifer winced as the sword grazed his shoulder, tearing fabric and skin.

That was the wrong move.

You let out a sound that didn’t even feel like your own and your magic surged violently. A storm of jagged frost spilled from your hands, slamming into Uriel like a crashing wave, sending him flying back and pinning him to the council table in a cage of frozen spears.

Gabriel was back up and charging you now, blade ready, golden energy crackling along the hilt. Lucifer teleported across the space in a burst of red light and caught Gabriel mid-swing, slamming him into the chamber wall with a burst of hellfire.

Raphael’s eyes burned with pure holy light. Then his true form began to emerge.

It was overwhelming. Dozens of wings spun and folded around each other in impossible shapes, eyes of light blinking in and out of existence. The divine hum of his presence filled the chamber, so loud and bright it ached.

You averted your eyes, clamping them shut and looking away just in time, knowing one wrong glance could burn your vision out of your skull.

But Lucifer—he heard the panic in your voice. He turned to look at you instead of facing the danger. With Raphael’s radiance blinding the room, the others distracted, and Lucifer’s flank exposed, Uriel struck.

The blade pierced straight through. You heard it before you saw it — the clean, sickening sound of metal sliding into flesh.

Lucifer’s breath hitched, and he stumbled, blinking in confusion as he looked down. Golden blood poured from the wound that had stabbed through his torso, shimmering as it soaked into his pristine coat.

“No—” you breathed, catching him as he fell. “No no no no—”

Your knees hit the marble hard as you pulled him into your arms. He coughed, just once, and blood touched the corner of his lips.

“I’m fine,” he whispered, giving you a lopsided smile. “Just need… a moment to… catch my breath…”

Your vision blurred. You didn’t even notice the tears at first. Hell had never seen you cry. Not once. Not when you died. Not when you fought your way up the food chain. Not when you bled for power or killed for survival.

The sob caught in your throat and spilled out, ragged and choked. You pressed your trembling hands against the wound. “You idiot,” you whispered. “You absolute idiot—”

He reached up, weak fingers brushing away the tears as they ran freely down your cheeks. You let out a strangled breath, cradling his head to your chest like you could shield him from the world, from them, from this. 

He slipped fully into unconsciousness, trusting you with that last ounce of awareness. As Lucifer laid limp in your arms…something inside you cracked. You lifted your head. The chamber fell deathly silent. You rose, slow and sure, holding Lucifer in your arms.

You looked each of them in the eye. Even Uriel, blade still in his hand, had the decency to look away.

You didn’t speak. You didn’t threaten. You didn’t need to. The sheer hatred in your silence rang louder than any war cry. 

You walked towards the portal back to Hell, Lucifer held against your heart and a new hate growing in your heart.

Chapter 9: Chapter IX

Summary:

Do you get to relax before another threat?

Notes:

CW: Angst and Fluff and Smut, MDNI, p in v, oral sex (fem receiving), unsolicited dick pics (not from Luci) (in real life, block and report or maybe burn him alive)

Lucifer hadn’t woken up yet.

You hadn’t left his side.

He rested in the centre of his bed, his chest rising and falling in steady rhythm, gold blood long since cleaned from his torso, now wrapped in bandages.

You sat beside him, curled up in the armchair, knees pulled to your chest, your eyes never straying far from his face. There was a bowl of untouched soup cooling on the side table. You hadn’t eaten. 

He looked peaceful.

But it wasn’t peace you wanted. You wanted him awake…eyes open, voice smug and teasing, asking if you were fawning over him again. You wanted his warmth. His laugh. The subtle blush he always got when you kissed him without warning.

But he just slept, so you waited. Occasionally, Charlie would peek in, her eyes red-rimmed, voice small as she asked if she could sit with you. You always said yes. But she never lasted long. Vaggie would arrive minutes later, arms crossed, expression gentle but firm. “You need to rest,” she’d tell Charlie, hand on her shoulder.

Charlie always argued. But Vaggie never let her break down completely in front of you. She would guide her out quietly, promising they could return later. That Lucifer would still be there. 

Sometimes, Husk would leave coffee by the door. Angel Dust popped in once in a while, talking to you about his shitty days to make you laugh or at least distract you. Everyone knew better than to push you. You were quiet. Cold in a way they weren’t used to seeing since the first days you came to live here.

*

His hand lay warm in yours, unmoving, the steady rise and fall of his chest the only reassurance you had that he was still here.

Charlie sat across from you, hunched in the chair beside the bed. Her fingers twisted in the hem of her skirt, chewing at her bottom lip. The worry on her face was a permanent shadow now.

She spoke in a whisper. “I… I don’t know what this means. What Heaven will do next. What this will mean for the Hotel. For Hell. For…” Her voice broke. “For dad.”

Your jaw tensed. It was always like this. Something inside you…something you’d been trying to hold together… snapped.

Your voice was cold. “This was never going to work.”

She looked up, startled.

“I should’ve known,” you continued, breath shaking with restrained fury. “I should’ve known they’d never listen. That they’d never see reason. Maybe if I hadn’t pushed for that damn meeting—then he wouldn’t be lying here like this.”

“Don’t say that—”

“No,” you snapped, rising to your feet. “They laughed at us, Charlie. They always have.”

“Heaven is preparing for a war,” your voice rising. “And this time, I’m not waiting for them to bring it to us. I’ll take the damn war to them.”

Charlie stood too now, hands raised, pleading. “You’re angry, and I understand—believe me, I do—but we can’t just declare war on all of Heaven!”

“Why not?” you shot back. “They’re bullies, pretending they’re better. But they’re just as cruel. Just as monstrous. Maybe worse.”

There was a silence that stretched too long.

A soft groan broke the silence like a crack through glass. You blinked, at first unsure if you imagined it but then the sound came again. Your head snapped up. So did Charlie’s.

Lucifer shifted slightly, brows furrowing, lips parting in a quiet breath as he stirred. “Why,” he croaked, voice raspy but unmistakably him, “is everyone having a war… without me?”

You and Charlie gasped in unison. “Dad!” Charlie’s chair scraped the floor as she flung herself forward, just as you were rising.

Lucifer barely had time to sit up, his back propped against a fortress of pillows before the two of you collided into him from both sides, hugging him tight.

He let out a soft, surprised laugh, followed by a hiss of pain as he winced. “Careful, darlings,” he murmured, chuckling despite himself. “Still very stabbed, remember?”

You pulled back only slightly, your hands cupping his cheeks with trembling reverence, needing to feel that he was real.

He smiled at you. “You’ve been crying,” he said softly, brushing a thumb across your cheek. “You don’t cry.”

You almost laughed, not quite, not fully. But your chest shook as you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his forehead. He didn’t answer with words — just gently wrapped one arm around your waist, the other pulling Charlie in as well, as if he were afraid to let either of you go.

Charlie sniffled. “You scared the hell out of us.”

Lucifer smiled weakly. “Sorry, duckling.”

You smiled, then slowly pulled back, brushing his hair from his forehead one last time.

“I’ll give you two a moment,” you said softly. “You have catching up to do.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but you silenced him with a look. You offered a final smile before stepping away, crossing the quiet suite toward the tall balcony doors.

You stepped out into the cool air, letting it rush over your skin, a moment of silence finally granted. Inside, behind you, father and daughter spoke in hushed tones — voices of  long-overdue apologies, and soft laughter. 

You closed your eyes, and let yourself breathe.

*

The door clicked shut softly after Charlie’s departure an hour later, when both the Moringstars had cried their eyes out, and you’d given both of them a mountain of tissue boxes. Lucifer lay propped up against the pillows, still pale but alert, his eyes following your every movement.

You sat at the edge of the bed, your back to him, your arms folded across your lap with rigid stillness. 

“She told me,” he said quietly, “that you were calling for a war.”

You didn’t turn.

“Is it true?” he asked, gentler this time.

You nodded once. There was a pause. “You meant it?”

This time, your voice was calm, too calm. “I did. I do.”

Lucifer exhaled, running a hand through his still-tousled hair. “That… frost in your voice. I haven’t heard it in so long.”

You stayed silent.

“I’d rather you screamed at me,” he said softly. “Rage is better than… this silence. This distance.”

That made your jaw clench. Still, you said nothing.

Lucifer leaned forward just slightly, wincing as he moved. “I don’t want war, darling. Not here. Not in Heaven.”

And just like that, something snapped. Your voice dropped into a rasp — demonic, layered with fury and pain. “Why don’t you want war?”

Lucifer’s eyes widened, but he didn’t interrupt.

“Why aren’t you angry?” Your voice cracked at the edges, deeper now. 

Still, he didn’t move, didn’t flinch.

“I hate them,” you whispered, the voice not entirely your own now. “They need to know what it feels like. THEY NEED TO KNOW MY PAIN, MY RAGE.”

Your hands curled into fists. Ice bloomed outward from where your bare feet touched the floor — jagged, fast, wild, cracking the ground beneath you. Your hands trembled at your sides, breath shaking. The windows frosted. The air grew thin.

You took a step back, eyes darting around the frost-covered room, breath coming in panicked bursts. You had been right next to him. If your magic had lashed the wrong way—You could have hurt him.

“No—no no no no—” you whispered, your voice trembling, hands out like you could pull the magic back, push it inward, shut it off.

Your vision blurred. You stumbled back another step.

Lucifer sat upright now, worry written across every inch of his face. “Darling,” he said gently, his voice laced with calm. “Look at me.”

You couldn’t. You couldn’t bear to.

And then—Warmth.

A familiar hand slipped around your wrist and then the weight of arms around your shoulders, steady and slow. You gasped when he touched you, the fear spiking. “Lucifer—get back—! I don’t know what it’s doing—I can’t stop it—!”

“I don’t care,” he whispered, pulling you closer. “You won’t hurt me.”

The cold was everywhere, biting, cutting through the air… but not him. He was warm, even now, even weakened, his arms solid around you, his chest against your back.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “You’re okay.”

“I can’t control it,” you whispered. “It’s reacting on its own. It’s never been like this. I don’t know what’s happening to me…”

“I do,” Lucifer said gently, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. “It’s your emotions. Your pain, your rage, your fear — your magic listens to all of it. Just like it listens to your love.”

Your eyes widened. “But why is my magic able to hurt archangels?”

“Whatever it is, we’ll face it together,” he whispered. “We always will.”

You pressed your face to his collarbone, eyes fluttering shut, the storm inside finally beginning to settle.

And slowly… slowly… the frost began to recede.

*

It had taken time. More time than he liked to admit. But finally, finally, you were asleep.

Lucifer lay on his back, still slightly propped by the pillows, your body curled into his side. Your head rested over his chest, breath rising and falling against his bare skin in the most peaceful rhythm he’d heard. One of your legs tangled over his. Your palm lay against his stomach, twitching occasionally in your dreams.

His blackened fingers combed slowly through your hair. He hadn't dared shift in twenty minutes, not because he was afraid of disturbing you, but because he was savoring this. The quiet and your closeness. 

Then—Ping.

Another notification. And another.

Ping. Ping.

Lucifer’s jaw tensed as he turned his head toward the bedside table, where your phone buzzed. You stirred, brow creasing in your sleep.

He whispered softly, stroking your hair, “Shh, my love. I’ve got it.”

Careful not to disturb you, he reached out with one hand, snatching the phone before it could erupt again. He pressed the volume toggle, silencing it.

But then… he glanced at the screen.

[ 127 unread messages – Overlords GC ]

You had told him your passcode, so he tapped it in. The Overlord chat was a mess of panicked energy and agitated texts. From the corner of his vision, you shifted. “Hmm… what is it?” you mumbled, eyes barely cracking open. Your voice was warm from sleep, raspy. 

“Nothing important,” he said smoothly, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. “Go back to sleep, sweetheart.”

You hummed faintly, nuzzling against him again. 

He had just tucked your phone beneath the pillow and kissed your hair when—Ping.

Another notification blinked across the top of the screen.

VOX : > You there, doll? 😘

Lucifer’s jaw ticked.

He slowly pulled the phone back out and tapped the thread open, more out of reflex than reason and immediately regretted it.

VOX (9:21 PM): > hey baby

VOX (9:34 PM): > heard things got messy up in Heaven

VOX (10:10 PM): > you okay, baby? c’mon, gimme something

VOX (10:47 PM): > not like I didn’t warn you about how weak the King was

VOX (10:47 PM): > you deserve better than some washed-up old man

VOX (10:49 PM): > remember how I used to take care of you?

VOX (10:52 PM): > come back to me, sweetheart. You know where to find me.

VOX (10: 54): > (2 images attached) Bet your mouth misses me.

Lucifer froze. Then scowled. “…He sent you dick pics?” he said aloud, incredulous.

You groaned, voice muffled in his chest. “Is that really the first thing you decided to read?”

Lucifer gave you a very dry look. “It’s hard to miss.”

You sighed and sat up a little, still curled into his side but peeking toward the phone in his hand.

He raised an eyebrow, sharp and suspicious. “How does Box know I was injured?”

You hesitated.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow. “Darling?”

You winced a little. “Because… he has cameras.”

He blinked.

“Everywhere,” you clarified.

Lucifer stared. “You mean, like, around his territory?”

“I mean all over Hell.”

Lucifer’s eye twitched. “He spied on us.”

You gave him a flat look. “He spies on everyone. That’s kind of his thing.”

Lucifer looked genuinely offended. “You dated a man who watches everyone like a creep for fun?”

You snorted. “It was a mistake.”

“…Do you think he’s still watching?” Lucifer asked, a bit more darkly than he intended, his arm still wrapped around your waist.

You gave a tiny sigh and slipped out of bed, padding barefoot across the room.

You reached the apple-shaped window and pulled back the curtains with a single, practiced sweep. Lucifer sat up slowly, eyes narrowing as you lifted your arm and pointed.

“There. Right above the east spire,” you said. “And another one circling over there.”

Lucifer followed your gesture and yes, there they were. Drones. Two of them. Barely pretending to blend in, both pulsing faintly with red lenses. His jaw twitched.

Lucifer’s eyes drifted towards you like it always did. A sundress with little fluttering ribbons over your shoulders that looked one careless tug away from giving in. Your hair was down and a mess, but to him, you were radiant.

You tilted your head at him as he slowly crossed the room. You pulled him closer and Lucifer followed — gladly, desperately — his mouth finding yours. You smiled into the kiss as he deepened it, one hand cupping your jaw while the other slid further up your bare thigh, fingers curling behind your knee.

“You drive me insane, love.” he whispered between kisses, voice rough with restraint.

“I know,” you murmured, trailing your lips along his jaw. “That’s why you like me.”

He laughed — a breathless, soft sound that ended in a sharp inhale when you bit gently at his earlobe. “You’re evil,” he said with reverence.

“Oh, I know.”

He pressed you gently against the curved glass, lips already finding yours in a kiss that started slow but quickly deepened, urgent and needy. His hands were trembling, not from pain, but from the rush of having you this close again. Of remembering how easily you could’ve been taken from him, or him from you.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you whispered against his lips, breathless, hands braced on his chest, where the bandages were wrapped.

His hand slipped along your thigh, fingers dragging the soft fabric of your sundress higher and higher until it was bunched around your hips. The cool air hit your skin, but it was nothing compared to the fire that bloomed under his touch.

You gasped as he guided your leg up around his waist, his hand strong behind your knee, locking your bodies together.

“I’m okay. I can take it.” he murmured, forehead pressed to yours.

His other hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing along your jaw as he stared into you like he was trying to memorize every line, every breath, in case he never got the chance again. “I dreamed of you,” he murmured against your lips.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him back down into another kiss, hungrier now, tongue sliding over his as you rolled your hips into his. Lucifer groaned, his hand squeezed your thigh, grinding his hips into yours in a slow rhythm, letting you feel how hard he already was through the fabric of his slacks.

Without a word, he dropped to his knees before you. You blinked in surprise, back still pressed to the cool glass of the apple-shaped window. 

“My love,” he rasped, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. “Let me taste you. I need to. I have to.”

You didn’t answer, just nodded, breath shaky, hands tangling in his hair.

Lucifer lifted the hem of your sundress reverently, as if unveiling a holy thing, and gently guided both your thighs over his shoulders. He nestled in, lips parted, breath warm against your soaked heat.

The first drag of his tongue made your whole body jolt—sharp and sweet and overwhelming.

Lucifer groaned like a starving man finally fed. 

His mouth moved slowly at first, savouring every slick stroke, every moan you gave him. His tongue flattened, curled, circled, every movement calculated and precise. He devoured you like he was trying to memorize the taste, worshipping you like this was some sacred ritual only he was allowed to perform.

You looked down at him—at Lucifer Morningstar, on his knees, smiling between your thighs, drunk on your pleasure and your stomach flipped.

Your hands flew to his hair, tangling in the golden strands as you gasped his name, hips rolling into his face without shame. He groaned, loving it—loving you like this…needy and breathless and shaking.

He dragged his tongue up your slit, sucking gently on your clit until your thighs quivered on either side of his head.

“Luci—nghhh—ohhhhgodfuck—!”

He just grinned against you, and with a deep hum, buried his tongue back inside. You were already unraveling, pressure coiling tight in your belly, heat building with every stroke, every sinful moan he made as he feasted on you.

He looked up, eyes glassy with awe. “Let go, darling.” he murmured. 

And you did.

Your thighs quivered around his head, as the heat built and broke—your release crashing over you in waves. Even as you came down, trembling and spent, Lucifer pressed soft kisses along your inner thigh.

With a devilish smile, he looked up from between your legs. Lucifer rose slowly, his body warm and trembling with desire, lips still slick from you, eyes blown wide with awe. His hands settled on your hips, steadying you as you caught your breath. 

“You—” he started, but your mouth was already on his, pulling him into a deep, filthy kiss that left him weak in the knees.

You could feel how hard he was pressing against you.

He groaned as you reached down between your bodies, fingers tugging open the front of his slacks with practiced ease. His breath hitched, his forehead dropped to your shoulder, and he let out a helpless noise as you slipped your hand inside.

You curled your fingers around him. He was hot, hard, already leaking from the tip, twitching in your grip. “Oh fuck,” he gasped, hips jerking into your palm. “Darling—”

You stroked him slow, your hand moving over his length with teasing, deliberate care. He was barely holding himself together, lips parted, panting.

You guided him between your legs, the head of his cock slipping against your wet folds as you rolled your hips—just enough for him to feel the heat, the slick, the need. You teased him like that, sliding him through your arousal, letting him feel every drop of how ready you were for him.

He moaned, arms shaking where they braced against the window. “Please,” he rasped. “Please, I need to be inside you. I need to feel you—”

With that, you shifted your hips, and guided the thick head of his cock to your entrance. He choked on a moan as he sank in—slow, deep, inch by aching inch.

You both groaned at the contact, your nails biting into his back as he filled you, stretched you perfectly, buried himself to the hilt with a breathless curse.

“Fuck,” he hissed. “You feel so good, honey, just for me.” Lucifer groaned into your neck, hands firm on your hips as he pushed deeper inside you, savoring the feel of you around him. 

His body pressed flush to yours, and with a gentle lift, he guided both your legs to wrap fully around his hips. You locked your ankles behind him.

Each thrust was deliberate, like he was trying to memorize how it felt to be inside you again, to have you again—safe, whole, alive.

His lips brushed against your cheek, your temple, your eyelid. “I was terrified,” he breathed. “When the angels came. I—” His voice cracked, and he kissed you quickly, like he needed to ground himself. “You were right there beside me, and all I could think was—What if I never get to hold you again?”

You cupped his face in your hands, gently, grounding him just as he had for you. “But you didn’t lose me,” you whispered. “I’m right here.”

He groaned, his hips moved in slow, rolling waves, his cock dragging so perfectly inside you that you moaned with every thrust. 

“I’d gladly take every wound they gave me,” he whispered, his voice ragged. “Better me than you. Always.”

Your hands cradled his face as you rolled your hips to meet each thrust, tears pricking your eyes—not from pain, but from the overwhelming way he felt you, body and soul.

“You’re here,” you whispered, kissing the tip of his nose. “I’m here. We’re safe now.”

You clung to him, your legs tight around his waist, your fingers in his hair, your bodies moving in perfect rhythm—the wet sound of him sliding into you over and over, the soft slap of skin, your whimpers, his breathless praise.

Your legs tightened around his waist as Lucifer’s thrusts began to quicken, hips slamming into yours with a heat and hunger that made your head spin.

“L-love—f-fuck—” Lucifer's voice cracked against your ear, breathless and shaking. “You… feel—gods, please—”

You couldn’t stop. Wouldn’t.

Your hands gripped his back, the muscles beneath trembling with effort as he drove into you faster, harder, still holding you up like you weighed nothing. Your moans mixed with his, the sounds wild and raw, echoing off the high arches of the room around you.

“Lucifer—” you whimpered, voice barely a thread.

“I—I can’t—” he choked out, each thrust now more erratic, deeper, rougher. “I’m—fuck—I’m gonna—”

You clung to him, thighs trembling as he slammed into you, and then—

He buried himself deep with one final thrust, his entire body shuddering against yours as he came with a strangled moan.

“FUCK—!”

He spilled inside you, hot and thick, cock twitching as wave after wave crashed through him. 

You held him as your own climax followed, wave after wave crashing over you as he filled you, his name tumbling from your lips like a prayer.

And then there was only the sound of your breathing—uneven, shared, and slowly softening. He didn’t move, still inside you, his arms wrapped fully around your waist, forehead resting against yours.

“I love you,” he whispered again, voice wrecked.

You stayed wrapped around him, your body still trembling from the aftermath, your chest pressed to his as you both breathed in sync. 

Lucifer kept you close, like letting go even for a second would undo the whole world. His cock still rested inside you, his arms still looped tightly around your waist, head resting heavily on your shoulder as if it had finally found its home.

“I love you,” you murmured, still catching your breath. 

Lucifer’s eyes shifted lazily behind you. From the corner of the window, he spotted a couple of Vox’s damn drones, still hovering like nosy little gnats just outside.

His smile didn’t falter. His eyes only narrowed. With the barest flick of his fingers and a quiet, prideful hum, he blasted them off.

From your side of the window, it sounded like a gentle spark. A pop.

“What was that?” you mumbled into his neck.

“Nothing,” he said far too quickly.

You narrowed your eyes.

He cleared his throat, then, very smoothly, lifted you into his arms, cock slipping from you with a gentle wet sound as he shifted your legs to cradle you bridal style. “Let’s get you to bed, my love. You need rest.”

You stared at him flatly. “You’re the one who’s injured.”

He groaned dramatically, collapsing with you onto the plush bed like a fainting starlet. “I will,” he whined, pressing kisses into your neck. “But only if you stay here with me. Your presence is medically essential to my recovery.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, trying to fight your grin.

His arms wrapped tighter around your waist like a vice. “Don’t care. Dying. Weak. Need cuddles.”

You laughed, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “Fine, only because I love you.”

A sleepy smile curled at his lips. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

And with that, Lucifer buried his face into your neck, wings half-draped across the bed, clinging to you.

You let him. Because honestly?

You didn’t want to be anywhere else.

_______________________

Lucifer was asleep again. The self- healing must have caused exhaustion, finally pulling him under.

You sat beside him, propped against the pillows, one hand tangled lightly in his hair. You smiled as he murmured something unintelligible in his sleep and leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Rest, dear,” you whispered.

You slipped from the bed quietly, trying not to disturb him.

The cold touched your bare skin the moment your feet hit the floor. You frowned, reaching for the silk robe draped across the armchair. You tied it around yourself with a practiced tug, but the chill lingered and deepened.

Cold? In Hell?

Your steps slowed. The air had taken on a strange bite…subtle, but unmistakable. Your brows furrowed. It wasn't your usual magic; this wasn’t your doing. But it felt like you.

You moved to the balcony doors, heart hammering softly in your chest, and pulled them open. The scent of frost hit you first — crisp, sharp, out of place.

Then the silence. No screaming sinners. Just a weighty hush.

Snow was falling. Actual snow — soft, white, and glittering under Hell’s eternal red sky. Hell… was never cold. Not ash, not sulphur…snow. You reached out with one hand instinctively.

A snowflake landed on your palm. It glowed faintly and then it melted. Your eyes widened. You tried to summon your magic, to manipulate it, to control the snow, bend it, still it...nothing happened.

Your palm stayed open. Useless.

Why? This was your domain — ice was your power.

You tried again. And again. Fingers trembling. Still nothing. You stood there, frozen in place, staring at your hand.

This wasn’t your doing. This wasn’t normal. Snow in Hell meant something unnatural. You could feel it in your bones, something wasn’t just wrong. Something was arriving.

A storm was coming. You stared out into that growing grey distance, heart hammering. For the first time in a long while, you felt utterly powerless.

Notes:

Took inspiration from this post by @passionateseadruid on tumblr

Chapter 10: Chapter X

Summary:

The end to a new beginning

Notes:

Lucifer can’t catch a break and neither could I. Sorry for the late posting guys, got a high fever a few days ago but now I’m alright now kk.

The main lounge of the Hazbin Hotel was deathly still.

Snow clawed at the windows, not gentle flakes anymore, but thick, relentless walls of white. It howled outside like a starving beast. The world beyond the glass had gone silent. No screaming, no fighting. No echoing laughter from lost sinners. Just… white.

Two stories deep. And climbing.

Everyone was gathered — Charlie wringing her hands, Vaggie with her arms folded and brows furrowed. Alastor leaned against the fireplace, eerily quiet. Angel Dust was curled on a loveseat, tapping his claws against his knee. Even Husk, ever grumpy and unimpressed, looked sober.

Lucifer sat beside you, his arm resting along the back of your chair, eyes scanning the frost-covered doors. 

“If we can track the origin of the snowfall,” you said, tone firm and focused, “my team back at my base can try to identify the trigger or source.”

Charlie blinked at you, hopeful. “Can’t you just bend it back? Melt it, or — push it away?”

You hesitated. Then, softly, “I can’t.”

The room stilled even more.

Your hands curled slightly at your sides. You hadn’t spoken those words aloud since it began. The power was still there and this snow? It didn’t listen to you. It wasn’t yours.

You felt a hand slip into yours. Lucifer, calm but steady.

He interlaced your fingers tightly, squeezing once. You glanced at him and saw it in his eyes. He understood. “It feels like yours,” he said softly to you. “But it isn’t. It’s… familiar. Twisted. Like a ghost of your magic.”

You swallowed, throat dry. “I think I know what happened.”

They all turned toward you again. Some with concern, some — like Alastor — with a curious tilt of the head.

You took a slow breath. You summarized the events that took you to the moment with the fight against Lute, and how she took a sample of your blood.

“She must’ve taken it,” you said, pressing on, “and modified it. A biological weapon,”

Lucifer’s hand tightened.

“Worse than extermination,” Vaggie said darkly.

Charlie looked like she might cry. “That’s why the sinners are gone. They are frozen. Trapped.”

Niffty pouted. “I liked Hell messy and warm…”

A sudden chime buzzed from your pocket. You reached for your phone, a message from your field team, pinged through your private channel. Coordinates. The storm’s epicenter. You looked down at it,  a flickering red mark pulsing on the map. Familiar terrain. 

“We don’t have time to wait for a clean route,” you said, glancing up. “I need to go directly to the epicenter. I can extract a sample and send it to base, they’ll be able to start breaking it down. Maybe even stop it.”

Before anyone could respond, Lucifer’s voice cut clean through the quiet. “I’m going with you.”

You turned to him, already opening your mouth to argue but the look in his eyes silenced you.  “You’re not doing this alone,” he added softly, 

Charlie stood up beside him. “Then I’m coming too.”

Vaggie sighed and stood with her. “Yeah. No way you’re leaving you behind without backup.”

Angel Dust raised a brow. “Are we seriously volunteering to walk straight into Hell’s first-ever blizzard?”

Husk growled from the corner. “You don’t have to.”

Angel smirked. “I didn’t say I wasn’t. I love a good near-death experience. Builds character.”

“I’ll bring the supplies!” Niffty piped up, eyes gleaming. “Fur coats! We might need tea! Everyone needs socks!”

Alastor, still by the fireplace, gave a slow nod. “I’ll have to stay. Otherwise who will take care of this place while Charlie is gone?”

You blinked, momentarily stunned. And for the first time since the snow started falling, something like warmth bloomed in your chest.

*

You all had to come out of the windows of the Hazbin Hotel, and a wall of wind and snow met you like a roar. Everyone was layered in makeshift winter gear. Heavy coats, scarves, gloves. 

You pulled your hood tighter as you stepped out first into the snow, your boots sinking with a soft crunch into the thick snow. Lucifer stayed close beside you, his arm brushing yours. 

Behind you, Charlie and Vaggie walked together, keeping an eye on the terrain. Angel Dust followed next, muttering how snow always found its way down his boots. Husk brought up the rear, a pack full of rum and whiskey.

The storm wasted no time. Snow lashed at your face in sharp flurries, making it almost impossible to see more than a few feet ahead. Your phone’s screen glowed faintly in your gloved hand, the only guide through the white. The GPS pin blinked with agonizing slowness. “Two miles,” you shouted over the wind. “That’s how far we have to go!”

Lucifer nodded beside you, snow already collecting in his hair. “Then we keep moving.”

Your breath fogged as you led the way, boots crunching forward through the drifts. The snow reached mid-thigh now, and it was growing worse. Each step was a struggle. The wind tugged at your coat like it wanted to pull you back.

Visibility dropped to nothing. You could barely see your own hand in front of your face, let alone the hotel behind you. It felt like walking into a blank page — a world erased.

Husk’s voice called out from the back. “Stick close! Can’t see a damn thing back here.”

Angel muttered, “Should’ve stayed in bed… or a hot tub… or hell, even the kitchen.”

Charlie squeezed Vaggie’s hand tighter, while Niffty clutched a rope that linked everyone together at the waist — her idea, and probably the reason no one had disappeared into the snow yet.

You kept walking. The cold had a weight to it now, like pressure in your bones. Lucifer placed his hand gently on your back, steadying you as you stumbled briefly over an ice-crusted rock.

You blinked against the white haze and looked down at your phone, the pin on the map no longer moved. You were standing directly above the epicenter.

“We’re here,” you said, breath fogging the air. “This is the exact location.”

Angel Dust gave a tired huff, snow clinging to his lashes. “Okay… great. So what now? Do we knock? Sacrifice a goat?”

You were about to answer when the wind… stopped. Completely. No blustering gusts. No biting flakes. No sound. Just… silence.

Your heart immediately began to pound. “…Stay on guard,” you said carefully, eyes darting across the circle of your companions. “Something’s not right.”

Lucifer stepped slightly closer to you, eyes scanning the horizon. 

Then — shlick. A sudden slicing sound tore through the quiet like a razor through silk.

Everyone flinched, heads snapping in every direction. “What was that?” Charlie whispered.

You narrowed your eyes, scanning the snow… and that’s when you saw it. A faint line — a smooth, circular groove — slowly carving itself around your group in the ice beneath your feet. It traced the group like a trap being drawn by an invisible blade.

Your eyes widened in horror. “Move—!” you tried to shout.

But it was too late. The ice groaned beneath you with a deafening crack, and the entire circle dropped in one perfect piece. There was no time to react. You were all falling.

Snow and air rushed past your face in a blur. Disoriented screams echoed around you. Flashes of your companions tumbled through your vision. The light above,  pale and gray shrank quickly, replaced by shadow.

You didn’t know how far you were falling. But you knew one thing: Whatever was down there… had been waiting.

*

You stirred slowly, ice hard beneath your back and cold air clinging to your skin like a second weight. Your body ached from the fall, but it was the warm hand cradling your cheek that pulled you awake.

“Hey— hey, sweetheart. Can you hear me?” Lucifer’s voice was trembling slightly.

You blinked, and his face came into view. Snow-dusted hair, eyes wide with worry.

“Luci…” you croaked softly, your voice dry.

He exhaled a ragged breath. “You’re okay… thank god, you’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” you confirmed, gently reaching up to cup his cheeks. “You?”

“I’m alright.” he said with a weak smile. 

A beat passed before Lucifer leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead — just a soft, grounding thing. His hands lingered on your sides a moment longer before finally helping you sit up.

All around you, the others were groaning and moving.

Angel Dust coughed dramatically as he stood, brushing frost from his many limbs. “If I wanted a sudden drop into a frozen hellhole, I’d have visited my ex.”

Charlie rubbed her elbow, wincing but upright. “Is everyone okay?”

“I’m good,” Vaggie said, as Charlie helped her.

“Still in one piece,” Husk muttered, squinting up at the cavernous ceiling. “Though this bitch-ass ride broke all my bottles!”

Niffty was still on the ice floor. “I loved that ride!”

You slowly stood with Lucifer’s help, looking around the massive chamber you’d fallen into. 

Angel Dust groaned and leaned against one of the frosty walls, arms crossed and scarf flapping weakly with every breath. “This place sucks,” he muttered. “I’m talking ten outta ten, certified shitty. Cold-ass crypt. Creepy-ass vibes.”

He shifted slightly, his hand resting on the slick wall. That’s when he noticed it. “—What the fu—?”

His words cut off. He squinted. The wall wasn’t just ice — not solid, at least. The faint blue shimmer pulsing beneath the surface gave way to something darker. Something inside.

A distorted face. Frozen. Motionless. Eyes open in eternal panic.

Angel scrambled backward so fast he slipped on the glassy floor, letting out a startled scream. Everyone turned in a flash. “What?!” Charlie cried.

“I-it’s—There’s someone in there!” Angel stammered, pointing with a trembling finger at the icy wall. “A sinner! I saw them! I swear—!”

You were already crossing the room, Lucifer at your side, his arm instinctively in front of you as he examined the spot. You reached out slowly, brushing frost off the surface — and there they were.

A sinner, completely encased. Mouth open mid-scream. Eyes fogged over in a bluish haze. Frozen not just by ice, but seemingly held in some kind of suspended agony.

“...Oh god,” Charlie whispered behind you.

You looked up.

Dozens of pale silhouettes lined the far walls. Encased neatly in the ice — like grotesque cocoons. Some looked like they were clawing at the barrier that entrapped them. Others were limp, their forms slack and shadowed.

Vaggie covered her mouth. “There’s hundreds .”

Charlie stepped forward, fists clenched. Her expression was stormy, eyes glassy with heartbreak as she stared at the sinner entombed in front of her. “We can’t just leave them like this,” she said urgently. “We have to break the ice—get them out, now!”

“No!” you snapped, stepping between her and the frozen wall.

Charlie flinched back in surprise. You looked her in the eyes, firm but not unkind. “If we break the ice too quickly… it could kill them.”

“They’ve been frozen for who knows how long,” you continued, voice calm but heavy. “Their organs, their cells — they’re in stasis. If we shatter the cocoon or hit it with sudden heat, we could cause shock. Or worse.”

Charlie’s jaw trembled, shoulders sagging. “I just… I didn’t expect to see this . I thought—maybe this was just weather, but—”

Lucifer stepped closer, slipping his arm around Charlie’s shoulders in a rare show of quiet comfort. “Maybe I can help, dear,” he offered, glancing at you. “I could melt the outer layer—”

You shook your head.

“No fire. Not yet.” You glanced toward the nearest wall. “They’ll need to be warmed gradually. Safely. That will take time… time we don’t have right now.”

Angel Dust was pacing now, biting at one of his nails. “So what’s the plan? We just walk away and hope they stay on ice until summer?”

“No,” you said firmly.

You pulled your satchel off your shoulder and opened the sample kit you’d brought — a crystalline vial, enchanted containers, and thin needles. “This is the heart of it. I’ll collect a sample here,” you said, kneeling. “We’ll send it to my team. They can find a way to reverse the freezing process safely.”

You crouched down near the frost-laced ground, carefully sealing the vial filled with glowing snow. You rose to your feet slowly, satisfaction blooming in your chest — at least you had the key to unravel this.

And then — you heard it. Chitter. Click. Chhhhrk.

The soft scrape of countless limbs. A low hiss, just under the pitch of the wind.

You froze. “Did anyone hear that—?”

Lucifer immediately stepped in front of you, arm outstretched protectively.

Angel Dust cocked his head. “Okay… yeah. Definitely not the wind this time.”

The noise grew louder — scraping, clicking, an alien cadence echoing from the yawning dark tunnel ahead. Husk readied his cards. Vaggie positioned herself in front of Charlie. Then the shadows shifted. From the mouth of the cave ahead, something moved.

And then it emerged.

A grotesque, towering creature. Its face was stretched, eyeless, a chattering maw where a mouth should have been. But its lower half was far worse — a massive arachnid body, pale and translucent, legs like ice blades dragging behind it, stabbing into the floor with every twitching step.

You stared in horrified silence. That’s why this place looked like cocoons that spiders make of their prey.

The creature let out a high-pitched screech, a distorted echo that bounced through the chamber, making your bones ache.

Angel Dust grimaced. “Yeah nope, definitely worse than my ex now.”

You stepped up beside Lucifer, magic already building in your veins despite the cold. “I think we just found the one responsible for freezing the sinners.”

The creature moved again — fast. Too fast for something so massive. One of its ice-bladed legs shot forward, slashing through the air toward your group. Lucifer blocked it with a golden slash of magic mid-air.

The creature screeched again — a shrill, ear-splitting sound that echoed through the cavern like glass shattering in your skull. Its bladed limbs stabbed at the icy walls, sending cracks through the surface as it crawled forward in jerking, unnatural bursts.

“We can’t fight it here,” you shouted, backing up beside Lucifer. “This space is too tight — it has the advantage underground!”

Lucifer nodded sharply. “Then we get out. ” He turned, his wings flaring from his back. “Vaggie! Take Charlie. Now! ”

Vaggie didn’t hesitate. She grabbed Charlie’s wrist, slung her arm around her shoulders, and with a single powerful beat of her wings, lifted her into the air.

Charlie gasped. “Wait—what about you—?!”

“We’ll be right behind you!” you shouted.

As they rose, Vaggie darted toward the dark circle far above, the hole you’d all fallen through now barely visible behind swirling snow and frost.

“Husker!” Lucifer called. “Take the others!”

“On it,” Husk growled. With surprising strength, he hoisted Angel Dust over one shoulder and grabbed Niffty’s hand with the other.

Angel yelped. “Hey! I’m not cargo, dammit—!”

Niffty squealed as they took off together, flapping frantically after Vaggie through the rising storm.

That left just you and Lucifer.

The creature was furious now, skittering forward, slamming against the walls in an effort to collapse the chamber and trap you both inside. Ice rained down. The floor cracked.

You turned to Lucifer. “Cover me.”

He raised both hands, golden strikes of magic, hurting the creature, but it healed too quickly.

You closed your eyes for just a moment, calling on your magic. You can’t manipulate this snow storm, but you don't need to snow to use it. You can always summon your ice.

The ice above trembled as a massive chunk of frozen snow, larger than a carriage, began to form over the monster’s head. You gritted your teeth and lifted your arms — the snowball groaned with magic and weight.

You hurled it upward. The cavern ceiling shuddered. With a thunderous roar, an avalanche of snow and ice collapsed in a controlled cascade, crashing down directly onto the spider-like creature.

It shrieked once more as it vanished beneath the freezing deluge.

Lucifer quickly swept you into his arms. “Hold on, love.”

His wings snapped open, catching the air with a powerful gust.

He launched upward with you pressed to his chest, the wind howling around you as he shot through the tunnel of snow. The light above grew brighter and brighter until, with a final beat of his wings—You burst into the open air. Snow flurried around you, biting and stinging. 

Lucifer landed beside the others, setting you down gently. Everyone was above ground again, regrouping, shivering, breathing.

You exhaled, watching your breath fog in the air.

That’s when your phone dinged.

You pulled it out, heart racing with anticipation. It was a message from your base team, instantly synced the moment the sample had been secured.

Sample received. Confirmed: frozen organic structure interlaced with active divine magical strain. Ice is too dense and magically sealed to be melted by regular means. Only a high-capacity thermal conductor (massive heat source) will work.

You frowned. Of course. Of course it couldn’t be simple.

Charlie stepped beside you, still hugging herself for warmth. “Problem?”

You turned the phone so she could read the message.

She nodded slowly, then said, “We have something that might work.”

Everyone looked at her.

Charlie gave a sheepish shrug. “There’s… a massive heater in the Hazbin Hotel’s basement.”

Angel Dust squinted. “We had a what now?”

Charlie looked a little embarrassed. “Dad built it… like, forever ago. Some kind of giant old furnace-thing.”

You slowly turned your head toward Lucifer. He smiled sheepishly back at you.

You turned back at her, deadpan. “And it hasn’t blown the Hotel up why , exactly?”

Charlie smiled sweetly. “Because no one’s been able to turn it on.”

“…Excuse me?” Husk muttered.

“It needs a very specific magical key to unlock,” she explained, proud about this. “KeeKee.”

“Alright,” you said, squaring your shoulders. “We get back to the Hotel. We find KeeKee. We wake up the heater. And then we melt that cursed ice.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, grim determination settling in despite the lingering frost.

The crunch of snow underfoot was constant as you all pushed through the storm, the distant lights of the Hazbin Hotel just barely visible beyond the veil of white.

A sound like reality tearing in half, that inhuman shriek echoed from behind you.

You spun, dread freezing your spine.

It was back.

The icy spider-monster erupted from beneath the ground like a demon from a nightmare, shards of snow and frost exploding around it. Its jagged legs clawed at the ground as it let out another shrill, furious roar.

“ RUN! ” you shouted.

Everyone scrambled, wings beating and boots crunching. Husk grabbed Angel again, Niffty bolted ahead. Charlie, always too kind and too brave for her own good, had lingered just behind to help Vaggie when she tripped and the monster saw her. Its twisted head turned. Its maw opened.

A pulse of cold like death itself rushed toward her.

“ CHARLIE! ” You screamed too late.

The freezing blast engulfed her. She stopped mid-run, completely immobilized in a split second, frozen mid-motion, a statue of wide-eyed shock and outstretched hands.

“NO!” Lucifer cried, skidding to a stop.

But the monster wasn’t finished.

Vaggie jumped in front of Charlie, her spear raised — brave, reckless, loyal. The creature’s maw opened again. Another blast. Vaggie didn’t even have time to yell. She froze, mid-lunge, right next to her love she’d sworn to protect.

The snow swirled cruelly around their stiffened forms.

Lucifer stared in horror. Then turned, eyes glowing, furious. “I’ll destroy it,” he growled, stepping forward. “I can end it—!”

“Luci—Lucifer, stop! ” You grabbed his shoulders, holding him firmly.

He struggled in your grip, his eyes wild. “That’s my daughter! I’m not leaving her like this! I can—”

“Luci—!” You gave him a small shake, forcing his gaze to meet yours. “You saw what happened underground! That thing survived a cave collapse and regenerated from the storm around it. This snow is keeping it alive — fighting it here won’t save anyone! ”

“But Charlie—”

“I know!” Your voice broke, emotion thick in your throat. “I know . But your invention back at the hotel is the only way to help them, besides, you’re not at your full capacity.”

He faltered, lips trembling.

“I’m not asking you to abandon her,” you said gently. “We are not leaving anyone behind. We are going to save Charlie. Vaggie. Every last one of them. But we have to be smart. This isn’t a fight we can win right here.”

Lucifer’s fists clenched, jaw tight. His eyes burned with helpless fury but slowly, his breathing began to steady.

He looked at you and nodded. You nodded back.

The wind howled at your backs like a dying beast as you and Lucifer sprinted across the snowy wasteland, your boots crunching against the thickening frost. Ahead of you, barely visible in the blizzard, Husk, Angel Dust, and Niffty were struggling to keep moving, their shapes flickering in and out of view like mirages.

Behind you… the monster was coming.

You didn’t need to turn around, you felt it. The rhythmic tremors in the ground, the low screech that pierced the air with every step it took.

The snowfall had thickened into walls of white, nearly swallowing the Hotel ahead.

Lucifer’s breath was ragged beside you. “We need to get up to the roof,” he gasped. “Everything else is buried!”

You skidded to a halt in the snow, planting your feet hard. “Then we climb.”

Your palms hit the ice-covered earth, and your magic surged outward. Your body still ached from the previous fight, your reserves strained but you forced it to obey.

A deep crack split the stormy silence.

Step by step, a stairway of jagged, shimmering ice erupted from the ground, each tread sturdy, stretching upward toward the second-floor rooftop balcony.

“Go!” you barked. Husk and Lucifer’s wings were damaged due to earlier manoeuvres after getting out of that place.

Husk didn’t hesitate, he lifted Niffty under his arm like a sack of flour while Angel Dust scrambled after him.

Together, you ascended the staircase, each step creaking faintly underfoot but holding. The wind buffeted your faces, but you kept pushing, climbing upward as fast as you could.

The ice beneath your feet cracked again as the wind screamed around you, snow battering your faces like knives. You could hear that monster climbing behind you, its skittering legs scraped along the jagged ice, fast and uneven.

You were almost at the roof when a sharp yelp made your heart drop.

“Niffty!” Angel Dust shouted.

You whipped around.

Niffty had slipped, her small frame tumbling backward down several steps, landing hard with a gasp.

“ I got her! ” Angel yelled, throwing himself down after her without hesitation.

“Angel!” you called out desperately. “Come on! Get up here— we don’t have time! ”

Angel Dust looked up at you, snow crusting his lashes. He shook his head, teeth clenched. “Not leaving her!”

Before you could move, Husk was already descending back toward them, boots slamming against the cracking ice. “Dumbass,” he muttered, grabbing Angel by the collar. “We go together.”

“Husk — ” you began, but Husk raised a hand, stopping you mid-sentence.

He looked up at you through the blizzard. His eyes, usually indifferent and tired, were soft, wistful even, as they met yours.

“Husk!” you called. “Get back up! We need to go!”

Husk looked up at you. Then at Angel and Niffty.

He sighed, pulling out his flask, taking a swig as calmly as if he were sitting at a poker table, not staring death in the face. “Kid,” he said gruffly, “we’ll keep it busy. You and the King — go turn on the damn heater.”

You stepped forward, eyes wide, fists clenched. “No. I’m not—”

“Yeah, you are,” Husk interrupted. “Let us do our job. You do yours. ”

Lucifer touched your shoulder gently. “We have to keep moving, love.”

You nodded, biting back the tears burning in your eyes.

Higher, faster, until the rooftop welcomed you like a ghostly platform above the chaos. You climbed the last steps, your limbs screaming, breath heaving in your chest.

Behind you, the sound of battle. Husk's low growl. Angel Dust’s frantic yelling. Niffty’s battle shrieks.

You dared to look down…The monster was there.

Crawling, faster now, clawing its way upward with unnatural speed. It swung one blade-like arm—

You heard Angel shout. And Husk—gruff and pained.

Then silence. The worst kind.

Your mouth parted, but no sound came. Something inside you cracked.

Lucifer grabbed your hand. “We have to move,” he said gently, pulling you the last few steps.

You let him help you up to the rooftop, your knees nearly buckling on the flat snow-covered surface. The doors to the hotel were just ahead — salvation, the heater, a fighting chance.

You didn’t look back again.

The creature burst from the snowbank on the rooftop like a demon through stained glass — shrieking, limbs stretching, a jagged mass of icicles forming in the air above its head.

It was aiming directly at Lucifer.

You didn’t think. You shoved him behind you, hands raised.

Your own magic roared to life — your fury and grief pouring into the storm inside you.

SHRACK!

A wall of thick ice erupted from the ground in front of you, just in time. The creature’s deadly icicles smashed into it, splintering on contact, exploding in shards that scattered around you like broken stars.

Your voice, when it came, was low and deadly. “ Stay away from my boyfriend! ”

Lucifer, behind you, was smug. “You… called me your boyfriend.”

You didn’t look at him. “Not the time.”

Still, his grin was soft and stupid.

“Luci,” you said, voice sharp. “ Go. Find KeeKee. Get to the basement. Turn the heater on!”

He shook his head, panic rising behind his stubborn pride. “I’m not leaving you again. I won’t . ”

“I can hold it off! ” you snapped. “You have to go—this is what we planned—!”

But before either of you could move— CRACK!

The monster’s claw lashed out. It slammed into you from the side, knocking the breath out of your lungs. The world spun in a blur of ice and light as it caught you, pinning you in its grasp like a toy. You were hoisted upward, legs dangling, chest heaving.

The monster’s maw opened wide and you felt it. That awful sting at your thighs, creeping higher, freezing your skin.

You grit your teeth, struggling in the creature’s crushing grasp. Your fingers were numb, your skin burned with the frost. 

A single tear slipped from your eye. Lucifer saw it. Something snapped inside him.

His lips parted but no words came. The glow started from his chest, just over his heart. Faint at first. Warm gold, like candlelight. Then it bloomed.

Brighter. He wasn’t really there anymore.

Lucifer Morningstar levitated up into the air, as if the earth had lost its claim on him. His skin shimmered, golden light spilling from every outline of his body. His wings were massive , unfurling with celestial light that spread warmth.

A sun had risen over Hell.

The monster shrieked. Its claws trembled, its frozen limbs cracking like shattered glass. It tried to shield itself but there was no hiding from this.

Lucifer glowed hotter. The sheer heat of him began to ripple through the air.

The creature let out one final scream before it melted, shrivelling in a burst of hiss and steam. Its body broke apart, ice turning to water, water evaporating to mist.

Snow all around you began to drip, then rush into streams. The frost receded across the rooftops of Hell, peeling away in rivers. The unnatural winter was dying. And still he glowed. You stared up at him, wide-eyed, your lips parted in silent awe.

There were moments—rare, fleeting—when you forgot who Lucifer truly was. When he kissed your skin and bickered. When he told bad jokes and sneakily held your hand under the dinner table.

He looked like divinity. And you felt your knees tremble. This was a scene that begged to be worshipped.

Lucifer glowed brighter than ever.

You blinked through the glare, your eyes watering. The snow had melted almost instantly beneath him, steam rising in thick curls. You winced as a bead of sweat trailed down your neck. The air had become suffocating. Your breath caught in your throat.

Around you, sinners, those who had been frozen began to stir, coughing, groaning, some even screaming as the sudden intensity of the heat slammed into them. It wasn't gentle. It was burning .

Your heart clenched. The glow kept rising, pulsing out of him in waves.

You staggered closer, shielding your eyes with one arm. The heat singed your lungs. You could barely breathe.

Your voice turned desperate, but still soft. “ Lucifer. ”

His head jerked slightly like someone pulled from a deep sleep.

The golden light around him flickered .

His body sagged forward slightly in the air. The divine hum faltered. 

Lucifer’s body slumped midair. He fell .

You ran forward without thinking. The moment his weight hit your arms, you caught him, holding on tight.

“Got you,” you whispered, breathless.

His head lolled against your shoulder. He was hot to the touch, skin still flushed with divine energy. His eyes fluttered shut, lips parted, unconscious.

Your heart pounded as you cradled him, lowering both of you gently to your knees. You clutched him close to your heart, as you saw Charlie and others running towards you.

Notes:

Just one more chap to go! Are you excited 😏😭💕

Chapter 11: Epilogue

Summary:

The aftermath

Notes:

CW: Fluff, MDNI, oral sex (both f & m), p in v

Lucifer was dreaming again.

The garden was quiet, perfect. A gentle breeze rustled the long strands of the willow tree’s hanging leaves, brushing the surface of the small lake that shimmered like crystal.

Lucifer grinned proudly, hands on his hips. “Ta-da~!”

You turned toward him slowly, wide-eyed. “Luci… this is…” Your breath caught. “Is this for me?”

He nodded so quickly it was almost ridiculous, golden curls bouncing. “Yup! Grew it myself. All of it. Was kind of tough, but I managed it.”

You laughed softly, and he nearly preened. The lake sparkled beside the tree exactly as you'd once described in passing. 

Lucifer turned to look at you, eyes shining like sunlight through amber. “You like it?”

“Like it?” You spun. “Lucifer, this is beautiful. I love it. It’s… it’s peaceful.”

He exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Good. I’m glad, dear.”

Lucifer wrapped his arms around you as you hugged him, burying your face in his shoulder, laughter still faint on your breath.

But then—Something caught his eye.

The sunlight kissed the top of your head, illuminating a delicate silver tiara nestled into your hair, subtle and regal, like it had always belonged there.

And then, as you pulled back just slightly, your hand found his chest, and that’s when he saw it—A ring. Simple, elegant. It rested on your finger like it had always been there.

Lucifer didn’t say a word. His gaze lingered—quietly stunned, reverent even—not with fear or confusion, but a kind of aching realization. 

*

Lucifer stirred with a soft exhale, golden lashes fluttering open. The dream’s warmth still lingered, like sun on his skin, and for a moment he expected the scent of willow and lake water to greet him. 

“Morning, sleepyhead,” you said, your voice as warm as the dream he just left behind. 

He blinked, groggy for just a moment before he focused on your smile. His heart swelled with the same feeling that dream had given him—something that had your name stitched into every corner of it.

You brushed a strand of hair from his cheek. “Charlie’s throwing a party, remember?” you told him softly. 

Lucifer groaned, flopping back into the pillows. “Can’t we just stay in?”

You raised a brow. “Are you sure you wanna miss it? It’s Charlie’s after all.”

He sat up immediately. “Fine. I’m in.”

The grand hall of the hotel had been transformed—streamers in gold and crimson and an enormous banner read “WELCOME BACK, DAD!” in glitter. The room buzzed with voices, laughter, and the occasional clink of glasses.

Lucifer stepped in beside you with a hand tucked into the crook of your arm like a quiet anchor. His eyes scanned the room with vague dread.

You caught the look and chuckled. “Don’t worry. I’ll do the talking.”

People approached almost instantly, eager to thank Lucifer for the heat wave that had mysteriously saved so many of them—oblivious to just how close he’d come to burning out entirely. He gave the standard charming smiles and princely nods, but you could feel how stiff his shoulders were beneath your hand.

Lucifer watched you with a mix of gratitude and admiration, leaning slightly into your space whenever he needed a breath. You laughed with the crowd at just the right volume, pulled him into lighthearted banter when needed, and shielded him from anything particularly exhausting.

*

Lucifer stood beside you, posture relaxed but eyes sharp. He’d already zeroed in on the only people he intended to make conversation with tonight — Charlie and Vaggie, tucked away by the bar with guarded but fond smiles. You knew he wouldn’t mind being left in their company. In fact, it was one of the rare times he looked almost… at peace. Familiar ground. His daughter. A woman he trusted. That small circle was all he needed.

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze and murmured, “I’ll be right back.”

He didn’t question. Just nodded, pressing a quick kiss to the back of your fingers before letting you go.

Carmilla Carmine.

She stood with her back slightly to the wall, framed by shadows that didn’t dare touch her too closely. Her silver-blonde hair gleamed like a blade under the light, and her wine glass looked untouched in her gloved hand.

“Well,” she said, her voice like silk dragged over a razor. “I’ve seen your progress…expanding business, expanding territory…among other things.” A sharp glance at Lucifer.

You arched an eyebrow and smirked. “Buisness is just that good.”

Carmilla’s lips twitched. “I wouldn’t say that when the king is interfering for you.”

You sipped your drink casually. “If I relied on a man, I wouldn’t be an Overlord in the first space.”

She tilted her head. “Hmm. Would you be an Overlord…in the future? Or are you aiming higher?”

You chuckled. “Who knows about what the future may hold. What I’m sure of is you’ll see me in the Overlord meetings, no matter my title.”

That made something flash in Carmilla’s eyes. Her jaw tightened by a fraction. “What I want is no influence of royalty if you wish to attend. The king—”

You interrupted. “My king has no interest in politics beneath him, so you can rest assured he has other important matters to deal with, like the aftermath with Heaven. But make no mistake, no politics beneath me.”

A long, heavy pause stretched between you, full of sharp menace. And then Carmilla raised her glass — finally taking a sip.

“I’ve no interest in becoming your enemy.” she said dryly.

You clinked your glass to hers. “Neither do I.”

*

After what felt like hours of forced small talk, wine refills, and exaggerated stories, the two of you finally slipped away from the party.

The moment the door shut behind you with a soft click, Lucifer let out a groan. “Oh god, that was exhausting.”

Lucifer threw off his coat and collapsed face-first onto their bed. You smiled fondly, crossing the room and lightly running your fingers through his hair. He hummed like a spoiled cat. “You were brilliant,” you said softly.

“I was clinging to you for dear life,” he mumbled into the cushions.

“Mmhm,” you teased. “That’s okay. You can be clingy anytime.”

His hands came up to cradle your waist, his lips soft and warm against yours. You melted into him, your arms winding around his neck, pulling him closer until there was no space between your bodies.

Lucifer sighed softly into the kiss, his fingers splaying at your back, holding you like you were precious, like this was a moment he never wanted to let go of. 

Your eyes flicked downward—innocently at first. But then you paused.

And grinned.

“Oh?” you said, your tone wicked. “You’re hard already?”

Lucifer's face flushed even deeper, and he tried to glance away, flustered. “That’s— It’s— You were kissing me,” he said weakly, his voice a little higher, a little breathless. He groaned, both embarrassed and turned on, as his fingers dug into your waist. “You’re evil.”

“Mmm, that’s why you love me.”

You pressed a teasing kiss to his jaw, then another to the hollow of his throat. You felt the pulse under your lips quicken. Lucifer’s breathing grew heavier as your hands slid down his chest, slowly unbuttoning his shirt one clasp at a time. He stood still, lips parted, eyes watching your every movement like a man entranced.

You knelt between his legs, warm hands sliding up his thighs. Carefully, you reached for him, your fingers wrapping around the hard, aching length of him. 

Lucifer let out a sound that was half a moan, half a whimper, when he saw you staring up at him with such love, such open, radiant affection. Your lips parted around him, slowly, purposefully, and his hands flew to your hair, not to guide, but simply to hold. 

He couldn’t take his eyes off you. His breath came out in ragged bursts as he whispered your name like a prayer. “God,” he murmured brokenly. “You’re… too good to me.”

Your hands gripped his thighs, your mouth moving in slow, careful rhythm, tasting every inch of him, as though you had all the time in the world. Lucifer whimpered softly, one hand still in your hair, the other clenched in the sheets as he held back the urge to buck his hips.

You were too good to him. Too kind. Too loving. And it was overwhelming.

When you pulled back slightly, your lips still wrapped around him, your eyes flicked up again—shining with affection, and something achingly tender. Like you could see right through him, and still adored every inch of what you found.

“You’re… beautiful,” he choked out, voice hoarse.

You gave him a little hum of acknowledgment, and the sound nearly made him lose it.

Your tongue flicked against the underside of his shaft, slow and attentive, each movement coaxing breathless gasps from Lucifer’s lips. 

“Darling… I—” His voice caught, half-moan, half-plea. He looked down at you like he couldn’t believe this was real. Like the sight of you, kneeling before him with your lips wrapped so perfectly around his cock, was something out of a dream he wasn’t allowed to have.

You hollowed your cheeks slightly, moving steadily, lips gliding over heated skin while your tongue moved in slow, rhythmic strokes. He whimpered—a small, broken sound that made your heart ache and your desire deepen all at once.

You could feel him getting closer.

His hips twitched, his breathing ragged and uneven, head thrown back against the pillow, a sheen of sweat forming across his collarbone. “Please—” he gasped, a whisper now. Barely holding on.

You moaned softly around him—low and warm—and that was all it took.

His whole body went taut, and then he shattered.

Lucifer cried out, loud and trembling, as he came—his release warm and intense as it spilled across your tongue. You didn’t pull away. You held him through it, steady and loving, your lips gentle now as he rode the waves of his orgasm.

You slowly pulled back when he was spent, lips brushing the head of his softening cock in a final kiss before sitting back on your heels. You wiped the corner of your mouth, smiling softly, heart racing as you looked up at him.

Lucifer was breathless.

You crawled back up over him with that mischievous little smile, the one that always made Lucifer’s breath hitch. But before you could get too far, his arms slipped around your waist in one smooth, effortless motion.

You yelped, laughing softly, caught off guard as he flipped your position and settled you above him. “Lucifer—!” you started, surprised, but the gleam in his eyes stole the rest of your breath.

His hands were firm on your hips as he guided you down. His voice, a heated whisper against your skin. “Sit, my love.”

You trembled as you settled over his face, his breath warm against your thighs. Your hands gripped the headboard for balance, but Lucifer held you steady, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips, thumbs caressing soothing circles as he pulled you closer.

The moment his mouth met you, your head fell back with a gasp.

His tongue licked a long, deliberate stripe through your folds before closing his lips around your clit and sucking hard. You bucked, a desperate moan ripping from your throat as pleasure pulsed through your spine. He didn’t stop—not for air, not for mercy. His grip tightened when you tried to wriggle away, a growl rumbling against you as he pulled you closer.

“Luci—ah—ohmyfuckinggod!”

Your voice cracked as your thighs trembled around his head. His tongue moved with maddening precision—slow when you wanted fast, deep when you thought he’d stay shallow. He was responding to every twitch, every moan, every arch of your back.

You looked down, your breath hitching at the sight of him between your thighs, cheeks flushed gold, eyes half-lidded like he was drunk on your taste. It made something primal rise in your chest. You rocked against his mouth with growing urgency, chasing that high—

Lucifer groaned beneath you.

The sound vibrated through you, setting every nerve aflame.

Your climax crashed through you like wildfire, a white-hot burst that made your whole body shake. You cried out, collapsing forward, gripping the headboard like it was the only thing keeping you from floating away.

But Lucifer didn’t stop.

He held you steady, licking you through every wave of pleasure, slower now. 

You turned your head slowly, still breathless, only to find that look on his face.

Lucifer was smirking. That trademark arrogance was back in full swing, and he looked positively pleased with himself.

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Wipe that smirk off your face,” you muttered, your tone playful but edged with mock warning.

He only chuckled, low and self-satisfied. “Why? I think I’ve earned it.”

That did it.

You pushed yourself up onto shaky arms, crawling over his body until you straddled his hips. He gave a surprised little exhale when you settled over him, your bare skin brushing against his still-hard cock, already twitching from anticipation.

Your hands splayed across his chest, nails dragging lightly over the pale skin. You met his eyes, then deliberately rolled your hips slowly—a teasing grind that made him gasp, his smirk faltering for just a second.

“That’s what I thought,” you said, voice husky, your grin wicked.

Then you ground down harder, your slick heat sliding along his length, soaking him, coating him in proof of just how badly you wanted him. He cursed under his breath, head tipping back into the pillows, jaw clenched.

“Fuck—darling—”

You circled your hips again, slowly, watching him unravel under you. 

His cock twitched as you settled over him, teasing the head along your soaked folds but not taking him in, not yet. You liked seeing him like this. Wild, needy. Yours.

“Please…” he breathed, voice hoarse and reverent. “Darling—”

You smirked and leaned forward, palms braced on his chest. “Please what?”

Lucifer’s hands roamed greedily — over your waist, up your spine, fingers trailing your skin like he couldn’t get enough. His hips bucked, trying to chase the heat of your cunt. “Please,” he rasped, pulling you down for a desperate kiss. “Let me feel you. Let me have you.”

You captured his mouth, slow and deep, and finally, finally, you sank down on him.

He gasped like he was drowning in you. His back arched and his hands flew to your hips as if anchoring himself, gold lashes fluttering, his eyes rolling back for just a second as your heat enveloped him.

“Oh—fuck, my queen,” he moaned, barely holding it together. 

You chuckled, breathless. His moans turned shameless, ragged. He worshipped you with his hands — one trailing up your ribs to palm your breast, the other sliding around your back to press you closer, closer.

He kissed you messily, greedily, lips moving from your mouth to your jaw to your throat, mumbling against your skin like a man possessed.“So beautiful… fuck, I adore you—ahh, please—don’t stop—”

You rode him slow but hard, grinding deep, watching him unravel beneath you. Every time you clenched around him, he gasped, hips bucking involuntarily. You leaned forward again, kissing him as you bounced harder, and he whimpered into your mouth. The sound went straight to your core.

“Look at you,” you whispered, lips brushing his. “My perfect little angel, moaning under me like you’re made for this.”

“I am,” he choked out. “Made for you—just for you. Don’t stop, please, please don’t stop—”

His hands roamed your body like he couldn’t touch enough — cupping your ass, sliding up your spine, curling into your hair. His mouth was everywhere…kissing your breasts, your collarbones, your neck, leaving love bites in his wake. You felt him twitching inside you, and you knew he was close.

His hand slid between your bodies, fingers rubbing your clit as you moved faster. His whole body tensed beneath you, muscles seizing as he cried out your name like a prayer. He filled you with hot pulses, holding you so tight.

You moaned his name right back as you came too, clenching around him, trembling, burying your face in his neck as stars burst behind your eyes.

______________________

The water lapped gently around you, steaming with warmth and scented with your favorite notes, a lush blend of lavender, amber, and sweet spice that clung to your skin. And bobbing merrily amidst them, with no sense of dignity whatsoever, were a few rubber ducks — Lucifer’s favorite comfort ones.

It made you smile.

Lucifer had drawn the bath himself, refusing to let you lift a finger. So now you were here — your back pressed to his chest, both your bodies submerged in the warm water, his arms draped protectively around your waist. 

You let out a soft sigh and leaned your head back against his shoulder, nuzzling your cheek into the crook of his neck. The exhaustion of the past hours caught up to you slowly, not overwhelming, but heavy in the best way. Like you’d given everything, and now you were being held in the safest place you knew.

You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to melt into his embrace. The water kissed your skin, the scent wrapping around you like a cocoon, and the rhythmic beat of Lucifer’s heart under your ear calmed the last restless thread in your soul.

Lucifer’s chin rested lightly against the top of your head as you lay between his arms, boneless and peaceful, your breath warm against his collarbone.

But his mind had drifted elsewhere.

His eyes slid lazily toward the edge of the bathroom — where two toothbrushes sat side by side in a ceramic cup. One was yours, naturally. Next to his.

Little things.

This was no longer just his room.

No — now it was theirs.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he buried his nose into your damp hair. You still smelled faintly of whatever body wash you’d chosen. He didn’t even own that scent before you moved in. But now? Now it clung to his sheets, floating in the air. 

Lucifer’s gaze wandered across the room, to the drawers. The middle one, second from the top. Nestled inside was a delicate, opulent thing — not too flashy, but radiant. He had spent weeks designing it, choosing each detail with meticulous care.

You stirred, your voice still thick with sleep and the sultry drag of contentment. “What’s got you all quiet and faraway, hmm?”

Lucifer blinked, caught in the moment. “Just thinking.”

You cracked one eye open, watching him with a soft, sleepy smile. “About?”

He dipped his head and kissed your damp forehead gently before whispering, “I think I might make that dream come true.”

You didn’t even ask which dream. Your smile deepened as your eyes fluttered shut again. “It sure will,” you murmured, snuggling closer into his chest. 

Lucifer Morningstar let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, he really could have it all.

Notes:

OMG can't believe this series is ending! 😭❤️ This was such a new experience of writing for me, and I hope you guys also enjoyed the twists and turns! (❁´◡`❁)

I'll be taking a break from writing for a while, but I will return in a week or two with another series. It will be based on Al x Wife! Reader x Vox, it will be a funny little rom-com. (the sad and complicated part I'm reserving for s2).