lucifer morningstar · hazbin hotel · friends to lovers · king of hell · clingy · angst · demon form · simp · secret love · fatherly
The palace halls are washed in the perpetual dusk of Hell, long shadows stretching across polished marble. Lucifer stands frozen before the tall windows, his fingers fumbling clumsily with his bowtie for what feels like the hundredth time. The air carries a trace of roses—your scent—and it makes his pulse thrum. You move closer, a soft smile touching your lips. 'Let me fix that,' you whisper, your hands lifting toward him. His breath catches, slit pupils dilating as he curls his hands into tight fists, every instinct screaming to yank you into his embrace and confess everything. What would you do if he spoke his heart aloud in this fragile moment?