Archive of Our Own

Door after door flies past Lucifer’s periphery as he sprints down the hall to his rooms. The assortment of bottles of water, snacks and other last minute goodies threaten to tumble out of his arms, jostled by every quick step. He could have teleported or sent a clone to fetch them, but this was his last opportunity to see his daughter before he’s locked away in a room for the next week.

It also allows him the chance to shake off the last few nerves in private. 

He and Alastor have been together for quite a while now, but these next several days will be the first big step since their relationship began.

Lucifer's careful courting of the prickly Radio Demon had gone fairly smoothly, all things considered. They had a rough first meeting to be sure, but they made it this far with no loss of life or limb involved and only a negligible amount of spilled blood. 

The first time Alastor actually accepted one of Lucifer’s advances – allowing Lucifer to join their hands as they walked to their respective rooms after a particularly jovial staff dinner  – Lucifer may have then spent the rest of his walk after they separated, with his hand held up to his face. And the next few hours after that. 

To say he was eager to drink in the Alastor's intoxicating scent was an understatement; crisp, fresh pine filled his senses until he was practically drunk off of it. Even now, months into their relationship, Alastor's clean, forest scent was like no other Omega Lucifer had ever met.

The mix of aromatic pine and fertile earth drove him wild faster than he cared to admit, but now that Alastor was so close to his heat starting? Fuck , Lucifer can't be within ten feet of Alastor without getting an erection. There's no telling what a face full of Alastor's heat scent will do to him, but he’s practically drooling at the thought.

His quick steps stutter as a bit of guilt worms its way into Lucifer’s mind. Alastor has spent the last week in a near-constant state of anxiety and uncharacteristic self-consciousness. Some of this could be attributed to the usual nerves that came with a couple spending their first heat together, certainly. More than that, though, this would be Alastor's first heat with a partner. Ever .  

Not having a heat partner wasn’t exactly unheard of, but it was well known that heats were quite uncomfortable when spent alone and often lasted much longer than one spent with a partner. To go without one for a century ? Lucifer knew Alastor had an iron will, but with this new piece of knowledge, his will might as well be reinforced steel. 

”Of course it is difficult,” Alastor had said as he diligently worked on what would be their heat-nest in just a few days' time. Lucifer had magically pushed his bed into the corner of the room and surrounded the open edges with more furniture to form the structure but left the finer details to the Omega. 

“But that is not a state that I would ever allow myself to be seen in.” He explained as he scrutinized the various options Lucifer presented him with.

Blankets, clothes, towels, pillows, and more all sat waiting to be used, each lovingly scented and prepped by Lucifer to be woven and tucked into the walls of their nest. Alastor picked up a fleece blanket and held it to his nose as he, somewhat shyly, added, “...Not until recently, in any case.”

A flood of happy, stupid-with-love pheromones burst from Lucifer. He couldn't have wiped the giant, dopey grin off his face, even if he'd wanted to. Leaning forward from where he stood in the small opening they left in the walls of the nest, Lucifer gave an exaggerated wink. “Lucky me, then!”

The overt, corny flirting earned him an eye roll, but a clean, bright pine scent still leaked unbidden from Alastor

“But I figured you would have found someone to get you through, then just killed them afterwards.” Lucifer mimed little pincers with his forefingers held up to his mouth, “Y’know, like a praying mantis or something.”

Alastor glared over his shoulder, wrinkling his nose and flattening his ears. Whether the very obvious warning was in response to being questioned or being compared to an insect, Lucifer wasn't sure.

“It is too much effort to discreetly find a partner. I can’t have rumors floating around Hell that I would be willing to take just anyone into my bed – I have a reputation to uphold.” Alastor returned to the task of rearranging his growing collection of Lucifer’s scented clothes for the umpteenth time. A heavy blush crept over the back of his neck as he continued, ”Not to mention that I like to handle my heats in a very… particular way.”

“Oh?” Lucifer asked, interest piqued. 

He waited for Alastor to clarify, but the only addition he got was a reluctant, “It’s difficult to explain.”

This was the same answer Lucifer continued to receive any time the topic of Alastor’s heat cropped up. Every time Lucifer would try to get him to explain, the Omega, frustratingly, found a way to dodge the question. His talent for talking in circles has consequently resulted in Lucifer going out of his mind trying to guess what this “particular way” might be. 

And to further multiply his anxiety and frustration: Alastor’s heat is going to start any minute and Lucifer still doesn’t have a clue. Not even an inkling. 

Nothing would make Lucifer happier than providing whatever it is his Omega requires to make their first heat together a success, if only Alastor would just tell him what the hell it is .

Stopping at the door to his rooms, Lucifer draws one last slow intake of heat-scent-free air to clear his head. With his exhale, he blows out as much of his nervous energy as he can. He needs to be strong as his Omega enters such a vulnerable state. Bringing negative emotions into their nest would only end in his own cinnamon and apple scent turning sour and getting kicked out of the nest before they could even begin. 

He would find out soon enough what Alastor needs for a successful heat. After which, Lucifer would raze all of Hell or defy Heaven itself once more to provide it. 

Arms occupied, Lucifer gently nudges the door open with his foot. “Alastor! I'm back!”

Only silence greets him at first, then a hurried sliding of fabric and muffled radio feedback wavers through the short hallway between the door and Lucifer’s bedroom. Brows furrowing, Lucifer listens carefully as he closes the door behind him and tucks away the supplies into the over-full cabinets of the small kitchenette in his rooms. This confusion morphs swiftly into concern when the first sour scents of distress waft in from the bedroom. 

 Lucifer drops everything and rushes into his rooms, “Alastor?! Are you okay?” 

“Fine! I'm fine, just allow me a few moments!” Lightly furred limbs flail as Alastor scrambled to tuck loose bits of fabric into the walls of their nest. Watching Alastor, who was usually so sure of himself and his decisions, attempt to hide the large nest with only his broad shoulders and spread arms has Lucifer's heart lurching painfully. ”Alastor…”

Ears pinned back and face flush with heat-blush, Alastor shoos him away. ”Just go finish putting away your supplies. I still have work to do.”

Lucifer takes a few steps back to have the kitchenette back in his line of sight again and, with an angelically-powered wave of his hand, stows away the remaining supplies. “There, they’re put away.”

He gets an unimpressed stare for his efforts, but he presses the issue anyway. “What do you mean there’s still work to do? I thought it was perfect when we slept in it last night.”

Alastor's jaw twitches, followed by a quick glance back over his shoulder.   “…if you prefer how the nest was arranged last night, then you’ll have to allow me the time to revert some changes.”

Changes? Alastor had futzed with the nest for days leading up to this; but ten minutes ago, when Lucifer had left to gather last-minute supplies, the nest was the same as it was the night before. He takes a step closer, craning his neck to see past Alastor's spread arms and the makeshift walls of the nest. ”Sweetheart, I’m sure whatever changes you made are fine—” 

“ ‘Fine’ is not good enough.” Alastor interrupts him, stern and uncompromising. On top of the commanding tone, his palm and fingers splay over nearly the entire span of Lucifer’s chest, halting his advance. “My Alpha is the Ruler of Hell. He deserves more than just ‘fine’.”

Lucifer freezes, both from Alastor's words and the surprising temperature of his hand – the skin is practically scalding. 

This stage in the Omegan cycle was called a “heat” for a reason, but this was bordering on abnormal. That morning, Alastor had changed from his usual, full-sleeved pajamas into a light-weight silk robe that barely reached his mid-thigh, but otherwise showed no signs of being overheated. Though he had been drinking quite a lot of water. Lucifer's trip for more being a direct result of Alastor's seemingly unending thirst – maybe that was keeping the Omega feeling cool while still being externally warm?

Regardless, heat exhaustion was a risk Lucifer would rather avoid. Magically lowering his own body temperature, Lucifer raises the over-warm hand at his chest to press it to the cooled scent glands at his neck. “I will love whatever nest you make, Alastor, I promise. The fact that you made it for us is more than I could ever ask for.”

The calming scent of apples and cinnamon pours out of Lucifer and Alastor’s tense muscles start to slowly relax.

As the King of Pride, Lucifer would like to claim that this relaxing power was something unique to him, just like his ability to manipulate his own body temperature, but in reality, it's just a case of simple, Hellish biology that any Alpha can utilize. 

When they so choose, Alphas have the ability to release pheromones that are more or less an airborne muscle relaxant. Some Omegas are more resilient than others, but for the most part, the more familiar the Omega is with the Alpha’s scent, the more effective this ability is.

Lucifer’s best guess is that its original purpose was to be used to improve an Omega’s ability to breed and take a knot. It matters less for sinners, being sterile, but Hellborn need all the help they can get with their chances of conceiving being so slim. 

He doesn't love using this ability – it feels as though he's taking away agency from Alastor. Over their months together, though, they had come to an understanding that, as long as it was used with sound judgement, it did more good for Alastor than harm. 

Lucifer releases Alastor’s hand and draws back, carefully inspecting his Omega’s permanently smiling face. “Now, do you want to tell me what had you panic-redecorating our nest? Or do I have to guess?” 

Pulling at the silk robe and looking away, Alastor tightens it around his angular frame and hides behind the curtain of his hair. 

Lucifer’s brows furrow. While Alastor has never been one for showing too much skin, something must be very wrong if the most egotistical man Lucifer has ever met was suddenly being this shy. He folds his hands behind his back, hoping to conceal his anxious twitching as he waits for an answer.

“I… was not lying when I said that I want to provide the best for you,” Alastor mutters eventually, barely audible.

“Alastor,” Lucifer says, serious and commanding. Something primal inside his chest purrs when the Omega immediately snaps to attention, ears pricked and ready to listen. Now is not the time to stroke his own ego, though. He makes unyielding eye contact as he promises, “You are my Omega. I didn’t choose you because you provide the best, I chose you because you are the best.”

Alastor remains alert and attentive, but something dark crosses over his vision. As if he were skeptical of the praise. 

That simply wouldn’t do.

“There are the obvious things about you that I love.” Lucifer reaches out, slow and clear to give the Omega time to reject his advances, and gently spreads his palm over the cool silk of the robe. He hooks a finger under the fabric, brushing his knuckles over Alastor’s furred skin. “A beautiful, sinful body that I will never get enough of…”

Sliding up the split in the robe, Lucifer’s fingers forge a path to tease the delicate skin at the join of Alastor’s neck and shoulder where the scent–gland lies, just beneath. A shiver runs through the Omega's frame and crimson eyes squeeze shut as he lets out an involuntary fawn-squeak. Lucifer smiles at the reactions he is able to draw with a delicate touch. “And there's your scent – one-of-a-kind and delicious .”

Then, finally, his hands end their northward journey at Alastor’s fine-boned face, cupping his Omega’s flushed cheeks. He tilts his face up and, when Alastor opens up his eyes, round and searching, Lucifer finishes his thought, “But more than all of that, my favorite thing is not your body or your scent, but you . Every single day that I get to learn about you becomes my new favorite day. So whatever your heat is like, I promise I will only love you more for it.”

The ruddy coloring on Alastor’s cheeks deepens. 

It takes a moment for the Omega to find his voice, but eventually he says, “My hesitancy is not a reflection of my belief in your care for me or of your character as a whole, Lucifer. It is simply something objectively strange.”

A brief silence leads Lucifer to believe that would be all the explanation he would get, but Alastor continues, “Additionally, the methodology behind it is deeply personal. I fear that if I were to verbalize it, it would be akin to admitting weakness. That is not something I am accustomed to doing or feeling.” 

“I… would like to tell you, but I don’t know if I am able,” he adds finally, his gaze shifting away, full of unearned guilt.

“In that case…” Lucifer presses a tender kiss to a sharply sloping nose before he releases Alastor’s face and drums his fingers together, losing himself in thought.

There has to be some way to get Alastor to talk. Forcing or pushing him too much would only add to the poor omega’s stress, so a more tactful approach would be preferable, but there's no way Lucifer will be able to outwit Alastor, even with his heat-fogged mind – he’s too well-spoken for that. If Lucifer could somehow simultaneously distract and encourage him, just enough to get the ball rolling, then maybe…

Lucifer snaps his fingers, an idea forming in his head. “Okay, let’s start with something a little less personal then! Other than this ‘method’, what else do you do to make yourself comfortable? Start from the very beginning – like pre-heat and everything.”

Pinched brows and a hesitant voice betray Alastor's uncertainty. “I believe it is rather late for any further pre-heat preparations. My heat will begin in earnest any minute now.”

Lucifer smiles and presses his palms together in a begging gesture. “Humor me? You can finish making your changes to the nest while you tell me.”

A little miffed, Alastor huffs, but he obediently turns his back to Lucifer. The room fills with the sounds of shifting fabric once more as he goes about pulling articles of clothing from the walls of the nest to be returned to their pre-panic-reorganization positions. 

“To start, I mercifully only suffer a heat twice a year, typically. As you know, many others are not so lucky. When I know that my heat is approaching, I tend to wreak a little more havoc than usual – it's better to make yourself talk of town prior to a sabbatical. If you exert yourself, others will expect you to lay low for some time after and are hesitant to walk into a fight with someone with newfound power or resources. The smart ones would rather wait for some other unfortunate soul to test the waters first. And the dumb ones?” Alastor laughs, “Well, they are unable to find me anyway.”

As Lucifer listens to the explanation, his dark hands find the bow tie around his neck and works it loose. Despite not being in Alastor’s direct line of sight, he still makes a show of drawing the fabric away from his neck, letting it drag over his scent gland as he lets out more amorous, lustful pheromones. Freshly scented, the charcoal fabric looks almost snake-like, wound around Lucifer’s knuckles. Wrapped in a coil, he slides it off his hand and holds it out to Alastor.  “Here.”

Alastor offers his hand to take the fabric without looking, keen on maintaining focus on reverting their nest to its prior state. When he brings the wound tie closer, however, he freezes. He brings the tie close to his face, pauses, then whips his head around. 

A smirk tugs at Lucifer’s lips. As soon as he has Alastor’s attention, he pops open the first button of his shirt. His ink-dipped hands move down to the next button, freeing it, and then the next, revealing more and more of his pale chest, smooth and well-formed. All the while, Alastor watches his fingers with rapt, hungry attention. 

Lucifer even catches the fluffy deer tail beginning to flutter and wag under the silk robe. 

When he reaches the fourth button, he halts all progress and raises a brow. “Go ahead, I’m listening.”

Alastor startles, seeming to just realize that he’s been staring. He clears his throat, turns back to his work, and not-so-subtly reangles his body to keep Lucifer in his periphery. It's kind of cheating, but Lucifer lets it slide for now as Alastor picks up the rules of the game.

“Right. Well, after I am certain that I am concealed, typically somewhere in Cannibal Town, I create a small nest. As you know, I haven’t had…” Alastor watches out of the corner of his eye as another two buttons are released.

Lucifer pulls the shirt open, but as Alastor slows his movements to a stop, Lucifer does the same. The fabric stops just shy of revealing his nipples. “You haven’t had...?”

Completely oblivious to the rules, Alastor remains except for his wandering eyes. They trace over prominent, pale collarbones as he trails off again. “I haven’t…” 

Bending at the waist, Lucifer leans forward to both hide his chest and to get a better look at the way Alastor’s pupils blow wider with every passing moment. He lets his voice drop, low and seductive, as he says, “You haven’t had an Alpha to fuck you through your heat before?”

Alastor swallows thickly and nods.

“Well, then hurry up and finish the nest so you can find out what it's like.” Lucifer straightens, holds his shirt closed, and, calling on his ancestry, presents the picture of innocence as he asks, “So what do you do after you’ve made your nest and your heat is starting?”

“I, um,” Alastor hesitates in the way he always did during foreplay. The illustrious Radio Demon had no problem stringing a few titillating words together, except in one single context: when referencing himself. 

Face flushing impossibly darker and ears flattening, Alastor does his best to weave the nest back into place. His breathing pattern deepens, drawing in more and more of Lucifer’s amorous scent with each inhale. “I primarily use my hands. I– I don’t typically like to, ah, feel myself, but I have more control over my fingers than I would have with a… than I would have otherwise.”

In their relationship, Alastor very rarely uses so-called ‘vulgar’ language to describe himself. If he was referring to Lucifer, then he would use words like ‘cock’ and ‘come’, but for himself it was always ‘penis’ and ‘orgasm’. Even when Lucifer was able to eek out sexier verbiage, it was so laced with embarrassed static that it was barely intelligible. Lucifer loved it when he could encourage Alastor to talk like that.

More than happy with that answer – it normally took twice as long to get half as much – Lucifer rewards his Omega by undoing the last few buttons and sliding the shirt off. “You don’t use any toys?”

Dark pupils cover crimson irises like an eclipse as they dart around to take in every square inch of newly revealed moonlight skin. Perked ears slowly turn floppy and submissive as Alastor shakes his head. Then, delicately, he reaches for the doffed shirt. 

Just as red-tipped fingers drift into range, Lucifer holds it above his head and out of Alastor’s kneeling reach. Can’t go spoiling his Omega with two treats for only one good behavior, now can he? Lucifer quirks a brow. “What about when you’re fucking yourself, hm? I’m sure even your fingers can’t reach that place deep inside of you – not in the way you need.” 

Among the warm cinnamon and apple scent, sharp pine cuts through and turns the air thick with dizzying, lustful pheromones. A static-laced whimper draws itself from Alastor’s throat. “My… I summon tentacles, but even they cannot compare to how you feel inside, Alpha.”

If the explosion of scent and the blown wide pupils weren’t enough of a tell, the way Alastor said ‘Alpha’ would have signaled the official start of his heat as clear as day. Even in their most intimate moments, he typically only called Lucifer by name, never an epithet and certainly never by title. Not even when he was multiple orgasms in and was a needy, whimpering mess speared on Lucifer’s cock. 

Now, Lucifer was being called ‘Alpha’ and he hasn’t even touched the man yet. 

“Is that so?” Lucifer crooks his finger, beckoning Alastor closer. Immediately obedient, Alastor crawls across the bed, his hips swaying with every movement. The swish of his raised deer’s tail has to be Hell’s most tempting metronome, enticing Lucifer to join its dance with every beat.

When Alastor reaches the edge of the nest, he sits back on his haunches and looks up at Lucifer expectantly. The round-eyed stare framed by long, dark lashes has the Alpha’s heart skipping a beat. Lucifer offers his shirt. “You’ve done such a good job with our nest, Alastor. Do you mind if I join you?”

Ignoring the shirt altogether, Alastor wraps his hands around Lucifer’s arms and yanks them both back. They land in a tumble of limbs among soft bedding, Alastor letting his hands greedily explore snow-white skin. Laughter bubbles up inside Lucifer and he bats away the inadvertently tickling hands. “Someone’s eager.”

Alastor hums in affirmation, his fingers redirecting to delicately brush over the tight fabric at the front of Lucifer’s pants, but his wrists are caught before he can reach the waistband. Lucifer presses a quick peck to the back of each hand. “C’mon now, Bambi, you know better than that. Besides, you haven’t finished telling me how you like to take care of yourself.” 

Lucifer releases Alastor’s wrist and rises, planting a knee on either side of Alastor’s hips. He hooks a thumb into the waistband of his own pants, pulls the fabric down just an inch to show off more of his abdomen, and drinks in the way Alastor visually worships him – reverent and eager. The Omega’s silk robe is tented by his small, erect cock, hiking the fabric higher and showing off more scalding skin. Slick shines on Alastor’s inner thighs as he desperately tries to spread them for his Alpha. 

Lucifer can’t fight the smirk that pulls at his lips, all too thrilled with the effect he’s having by simply being in close proximity. His free hand combs through his hair, preening and showing off for his panting Omega. “If you can keep your hands to yourself while you tell me about it, I’ll reward you.”

“Alpha, please…” Alastor begs, fisting the bed sheets in a Herculean effort to not touch Lucifer. 

Lucifer tuts. “C’mon, sweetheart, don’t you want to be good for me?”

He must have pressed the right button, because Alastor is nodding fervently. “I do, but…” Alastor glances away, forcing himself to continue. “There isn’t much more to tell.  I… I fuck myself with my tentacles for as long as my body calls for it. That's all.”

It’s not exactly the answer he was looking for, but a deal was a deal. Lucifer undoes the button of his pants, parting the fly to expose the swell of his black boxer-briefs. “Do you like how it feels to be filled? Or do you just feel like it's something you have to do?”

Alastor squirms, the silk aiding the slide of his hips under Lucifer’s weight – not to escape or due to any physical discomfort. Just from the look in the Omega’s eye, Lucifer could tell this was purely mental. Bracing an elbow on either side of Alastor’s head, he leans down and lays the entire length of his torso against Alastor’s. 

Their height difference means Lucifer’s cock is pressed more against his Omega’s lower stomach, rather than his crotch, but he wasn’t planning on dry humping his partner to completion anyway. His Omega deserved much better than that, especially for the first orgasm of many over the course of this heat.

Alastor sucks in a breath as Lucifer's weight settles on top of him and Lucifer can practically feel the shock of radio static vibrating through his bones. He searches the Omega's expression from his hovering position. Wide, avoidant eyes, lips drawn into a tight-lipped version of his typical smile, and his ear pinned back – more defensive than submissive. 

Still too many nerves, then. 

He wants to stop everything and ask again if Alastor really did want him here for his heat, but there is no way to do that now. Even if his decision-making ability wasn't impaired by hormones, asking now would only lead the Omega to believe that Lucifer was rejecting him. 

He rises from his elbows to his hands, creating more space between them and removing his body weight. “Alastor?”

Some of the fearfulness in Alastor's face eases with the separation. More of that gorgeous blush reappears, high on his cheeks. “I do like it, feeling full. Perhaps too much.”

Lucifer blinks. Too much? That was hardly the answer he’d been expecting, and now he's even more confused. Had he misread Alastor's expression earlier? 

“That's good to hear,” Lucifer asks, leaning down once more and testing the waters. He nuzzles his nose into the scent gland at Alastor's neck, pleased to find only lustful, happy pheromones pouring out of his Omega. He must have misread the fear earlier – the only sour scent at Alastor's throat is trace notes of nervousness. Completely normal for an Omega's first shared heat.

A little confusion still lingers at the back of his brain, but pride swells when delicious, breathy moans spill from Alastor’s lips when Lucifer’s tongue meets his neck. Something deep and primal has Lucifer growling into warm skin, “Because I would love nothing more than to fill you up until you're swollen with my cum like the filthy little Omega you are.”

Wait. What? 

Lucifer tries not to halt his worshiping as a moan rips through Alastor's throat, vibrating under his tongue. He does stutter, though, caught off guard by his own words. 

They've dabbled in the degradation side of dirty talk a few times – something Alastor was historically very hit-or-miss on – but Lucifer never jumped into that kind of dialogue this fast. It has to be his triggered rut encouraging the dialogue, because this pretty, moaning Omega squirming beneath him has his more primal side going off the rails.

“I want… Alpha, I want…” Alastor's babbles become more and more incoherent as Lucifer travels south. Fine collarbones are sharp and satisfying under his tongue, but he pulls back just long enough to ask, “What do you want, my love?”

Begging whines pour from Alastor's lips. “Inside, please, inside.”

Furred calves press at Lucifer's sides, urging a change in position. They seek to lure Lucifer between them, eager to rush things along. Lucifer couldn’t fight the smile pulling at his lips even if he wanted to. With a gentle nip to the hollow of Alastor’s throat, Lucifer shushes him, “ I know you act like the big, bad Radio Demon, but let me take care of you. Let your Alpha take the lead.”

It isn’t enough and desperate thighs only squeeze him tighter and try to draw him down. Not a problem when he has a shield built into his back. 

Golden light pools behind Lucifer’s back, warming their nest even further with its Heavenly light, as each one of his wings unfurl. As they do, Alastor's legs are nudged away from Lucifer’s body by soft, clean feathers as they materialize behind him. 

As each set reaches their full span they're slowly encased in a dome of feathers, with only Alastor’s legs and Lucifer’s excitedly lashing tail caged outside of it. 

“There we go, beautiful,” Lucifer purrs, “We’ll keep these out until you learn that I’m the one setting the pace here.”

That was untrue and they both knew it, but it still earns an immodest whine and a rolling buck of Alastor’s hips. 

From there, there’s only a few fawn-squeak-like moans in return as Lucifer continues his worshipping ministrations. He peppers kisses all across Alastor’s chest, letting his Omega’s pine scent fill his lungs over and over. The muscles shift with each heaving breath and stutters when Lucifer takes a nipple into his mouth. Each teasing flick of his tongue earns another delicious sound from his Omega’s mouth. 

Swapping to the other side, Lucifer shifts his knees wider and sets a bit of his weight onto Alastor’s thighs so he can set his hands wandering and teasing over the Omega’s sensitive, scarred torso. As he nears the loose tie of Alastor’s silk robe, he pulls one end of the elegant knot until it completely falls away, exposing the soft plane of Alastor’s stomach.

His greedy hands itch to touch, and, well, he would hardly be the Devil if he didn’t fall to temptation every now and again, now would he?

As soon as his hands slide over the slightly rounded lower belly, just above the Omega’s leaking cock, the squirming comes back in full force and the needy whines filter into static-filled moans.

Lucifer lets himself drink in every little sound and shiver of Alastor's body. What a beautiful moaning mess Lucifer’s Omega makes – how had he ever gotten so lucky? “You're so sensitive during your heat, my love.”

Seeming not to trust his ability to form words, Alastor only bites his lips and nods. His muscles flex and he tugs at the plush walls of their nest, heavily scented fabric held captive by horny Omega hands looking for anything to ground them.

“I can't wait to be inside of you, Alastor. I'm going to make you feel so good.” Lucifer promises between wet kisses, forging a trail down the center of Alastor's quivering torso. “I’ll fill you up with my knot,  just how you like it. Fill you better than any toy or tentacle could. I'll have you begging like the whore you are for your Alpha.”

“F-for you, Alpha,” Alastor repeats, his legs shifting between Lucifer’s rubbing together, spreading intoxicating slick all over his inner thighs. 

“That's right, Alastor. You're only like this for me, aren't you? Moaning my name, my title , like it's the only words you know.” Pressing up with one hand on Alastor’s chest, Lucifer snakes his other hand down his own torso until he hooks his thumb back into the waistband of his pants. In another shimmer of angelic magic, they come free from his legs. Left only in his boxer briefs, the front of which is subtly shining with precome that definitely leaked all the way through to his pants, Lucifer tosses the shed garment into the nest. It lands just to the side of Alastor’s head.

Lucifer can see the instant the scent of his arousal hits Alastor’s twitching nose. His already round pupils blow even wider with lust. Lucifer leans back down, pressing their bodies together and craning his neck to whisper a promise into Alastor’s ear, “You’ve wormed your way into having the Devil worship the ground you walk on. I am yours as much as you are mine, my love, and hells am I yours.”

To prove his point further, Lucifer bows his head to tuck his face into the mating mark at the join of Alastor’s neck and shoulder. He pumps out comforting, loving pheromones, filling the immediate area with the scents of an apple orchard, and grinds his clothed cock on Alastor’s abdomen – hard. Lucifer was about to burst with just how ready he was to fill Alastor just the way he needs and–

The scent of rotten wood, putrid and dry, explodes as all the warmth beneath Lucifer disappears in an instant. In the span of a blink, Alastor has extracted himself from their lustful embrace and is now cowering submissively on his back, limbs and silk pulled tightly around himself. 

Then, something Lucifer, in all his centuries of existence, has never seen – Alastor is crying. Fat, shining globules well in the corners of his eyes, a sparse few spilling out and rolling down his flushed cheeks. They're jostled on their journey down to his chin by his panicked, stuttering explanation. 

“I-I- Alpha I apolo– I didn't mean for– I thought I could! I thought I could do it and now…” Alastor gasps for air, his ears pressing down even flatter against his skull. “I've ruined it and you'll leave and you'll find a better Omega and–”

The mere insinuation that he would look for anyone other than Alastor has Lucifer's senses snapping back to him. “Woah, woah, slow down, Alastor! I'm not going to–”

As he shuffles forward, his knees slide through something warm and wet and intensely fragrant. Pure pine fills the air, free from any sour or sweet notes brought on by fear or heat. This was just pure, unbridled Alastor and, Hells, it smelled heavenly. Involuntarily, his primal side sends his gaze down to the bed to search for what set internal desire blazing.

But there's nothing to see, the bedding is simply wet. There's no staining color, so Lucifer would assume it was slick, but there was none of the characteristic sharp spiciness of Alastor's lust. Plus slick is much too viscous to absorb into the fabric that quickly. This has to be something clear, watery, and would be unaffected by Alastor's emotive pheromones–

Lucifer freezes. 

Alastor, eyes round and cheeks flushed, bores holes into his skull and watches as the pieces click into place in Lucifer's rut-addled mind.

Drinking excessive amounts of water, tenderness around his lower abdomen, caginess around this ‘particular’ method Alastor uses to still feel like he has an ounce of control whilst in the midst of a very out-of-control state…

Lucifer had no way in Hell of guessing that Alastor had turned to lording control over his bladder . As the cogs resume turning in his mind, more and more things made sense. Like why Alastor had been so reluctant to divulge his penchant for feeling full – it wasn’t just tentacles filling him; he was also keeping his bladder at maximum capacity.

The most pitiful whimper Lucifer has ever heard draws him out of his churning thoughts and back to the poor, dejected Omega on the sheets in front of him. His Omega.

“My love,” Lucifer pleads, easing forward on his hands and knees until he’s leaning over Alastor’s curled-up frame once more. “Don’t be upset, it's okay.”

“It… It's not.” Alastor whispers, tipping his chin down and shaking his head. “You deserve better.”

Fuck, why does he sound so scared ? Panic threatens to rise to the forefront of Lucifer’s being and engulf him. He can't let his scent be anything other than comforting, but fuck does the pitiful sight of his Omega have his chest squeezing painfully around his heart.

“Alastor…” he cards a hand through Alastor’s hair, pushing it out of his face. “How could I possibly do better than you? Nothing about this makes me think any less of you.”

More tears well up, unbidden, in the corners of Alastor’s eyes and his babbling continues. “I couldn’t hold it, I was supposed to hold it. I failed. I failed you.”

The gloss of unshed tears pooling in the corners of Alastor's eyes is unnerving in more ways than one. There's the natural, primal response to his Omega being upset, of course, but then there's something even more disturbing than that – the fact that they look so unnatural, glistening as they threaten to roll down Alastor's usually unreadable face.

Leaning down, Lucifer gently kisses them away, their saltiness momentarily coating his lips. “That's okay, my love, you did your best.”

“No. My best was not enough.” Alastor bites his lip, timid, but his large, doe eyes still have his signature determination in them as he vows, “I want to be good for you.”

“Good for me…” Lucifer parrots back, utterly mesmerized. The overwhelming scent of his partner filling his lungs was certainly the majority of the fuel that was on the bonfire, but those words were the match that set Lucifer ablaze, burning from the inside out. 

The sheer thought that Alastor trusted him enough to show all of these intimate sides of himself, be it physical, emotional, or sexual, had Lucifer’s urges ramping up into cataclysmic, world-ending proportions. The lust curling around his body licked at his desire to breed until he could think of nothing else. He could feel his wings fanning out behind himself in his mind – see it in the reflection of Alastor’s shining eyes.

It didn’t matter that this desire of Alastor’s to maintain control over his body was a little peculiar - if it made his prized Omega more comfortable, then Lucifer was always going to be obeisant. 

A growl works its way into Lucifer’s speech, and his horns press out of his temples as he feels his demonic qualities take shape in preparation to claim his prize. 

Leaning forward, Alastor’s body unfurling below him like a flower towards the sun, Lucifer closes in until their lips brush with every word he speaks, “That’s alright, Alastor, you’ve been such a good little Omega for me so far that I can look past a little spill. I’m more than happy to give you another chance.”

Adoration clears Alastor's lust-hazed eyes just for a moment, as if Lucifer's offer was something that he never even dared to dream of. “...You will?”

“Of course, my love,” Lucifer purrs, "We are more than the culmination of our mistakes, Alastor – I know that better than anyone. Something this small could never outweigh the fact that you are the best thing that has happened to me in a long, long time.” 

Elegant, soft hands cradle his face as Alastor nearly stops his heart with an admiring, long-lidded gaze. “My Alpha is so kind.”

When their lips meet, it feels like coming home. The wetness still left on Alastor’s cheeks does nothing to slow Lucifer in his journey to make his Omega feel warm and loved and accepted for all that he is. Besides, a little bit of mess never hurt anybody.

He drinks in the scent as he deepens the kiss, sliding his tongue into Alastor’s welcoming mouth. The moan Alastor lets out vibrates throughout his whole body, adding even more fuel to his flaming desire. 

Alastor wants to be good for him. The infamously callous and uncaring Radio Demon wants nothing more than Lucifer’s love and appreciation – to feel valued by the King of Hell himself, and it drives Lucifer wild .

Soon, their moans turn into possessive growls and lustful, laboring breaths as Lucifer makes his way down Alastor’s body once again. He eases the silk robe back open and slides it completely off to make way for his exploring mouth. Swollen, sensitive nipples are stiff peaks under his tongue and easily encourage the beautiful bowing of Alastor’s back as he basks in the pleasure of Lucifer’s ministrations. 

“That feels so good, Alpha…”

“Does it?” Lucifer smiles wickedly into the join of Alastor’s thigh and pelvis, his small, swollen cock less than an inch from Lucifer’s flushed cheek. “Then I’m glad, sweetheart. You know I like to make you feel good.”

“You do, you do,” Alastor repeats again and again, his hips rolling and grinding with each repetition. “I never thought you would treat me so well.”

“Oh?” Lucifer halts his wandering mouth, but still lets his hands tease the sensitive skin of Alastor’s inner thighs, his thumbs working in gentle, looping circles. “And why's that?”

“Everyone is so, ah, obsessed with sex, they l-lose their minds with the need of it. Never care much for the more… ah, intimate aspects,” Alastor gasps as Lucifer’s thumbs graze just past the edge of his lips. “But you care, Alpha. You care about intimacy.”

Lucifer can’t help but smile at that. He pushes back up to press a quick peck to Alastor’s lips before resettling between his legs. “I do. I would do anything to make you more comfortable with me, even if it’s a little bit messy.” Lucifer laughs good-naturedly and sends out a fresh wave of joyful pheromones. Hopefully, both Alastor’s Omegan pride and normal pride have recovered enough for some light teasing because, damn, does Lucifer want to kick it up a notch – wants to see that gorgeous face go crimson.

Judging by the chuckle and only somewhat bashful smile, it seems they have. Lucifer’s fingers resume their teasing, dancing closer and closer to the center of Alastor’s body.

“And do you want to know a secret?” Lucifer asks, resting his head on one of Alastor’s spread thighs as he looks up through long-lidded lashes at his Omega’s flushed face.

“Hm?” Alastor meets his gaze curiously as he worries his lower lip between his teeth, as if it's the only thing keeping him from crying out and begging. A sharp intake of breath through his nose as Lucifer’s thumb grazes over his lips again.

“I fucking loved it when you lost control,” Lucifer times his confession with a full, firm stroke over the Omega’s clitoris. Alastor’s head flops back in a loud, long moan. Crimson-tipped fingers curl and pull at the walls of their nest as another eruption of spiced, pine scent fills it. 

“You being so full and desperate for relief while still being so, so good for me,” Lucifer praises as he slides the first finger into Alastor’s soaking wet cunt, “So lost in how good I make you feel. So eager to take my knot that you lost focus for just one second and made such a fuck–” Lucifer has to stop and let out a lewd moan of his own as his hips involuntarily buck at the memory. He grinds his cock into the wet patch of their nest that smells better than any other aroma. 

Lucifer adds another finger and slowly pumps them in and out of Alastor and his thumb rubs teasing circles over his clit in time with his rutting. He wants so badly to stuff his gorgeous, whining Omega full with his knot, but he wants to pull out any remaining nerves with at least one intense orgasm. “Fuck, who knew you were so filthy, my sweet buck?”

“F-for you,” Alastor breathes, his back permanently bowed as he tries desperately to roll his hips and fuck himself on Lucifer’s fingers. “All, ah, and only for you.”

“That's right. My own personal whore who’s so slick and wet for me that he can’t even control his bladder.” He sighs reverently as he admires the gorgeous, deep blush color of Alastor's pussy.  Lucifer adds yet another finger and lifts himself up on his free elbow until he’s hovering just above Alastor's swelled cock. It, too, had the same beautiful hue at the tip that gradates down to the warm tan of Alastor’s skin at the base. “Fuck, how the Hell did I get so lucky with you?”

Without waiting for an answer, he takes the full length of Alastor's cock into his mouth and begins bobbing his head in time with his pumping fingers. It's hardly a mouthful – male Omegas’ cocks are usually only an inch or two long and Alastor’s was no exception – but, fuck, was Alastor’s reaction enough to steal the breath in his lungs.

Alastor’s thin frame rolls like the tide, trying so very hard to keep still when it was clear that all he wants to do is ride Lucifer’s fingers to completion while simultaneously fucking into his mouth.

Lucifer hums encouragingly around the firm length as he focuses on pleasuring his pretty, moaning Omega. With a little searching, he finds the small spot inside of Alastor's cunt that has the Omega's moans crescendoing and strokes over and over again. So close to the edge already, it takes little of this stimulation for Alastor to go sailing over it. 

Warmth blooms inside Lucifer’s mouth and liquid ecstasy slides down his throat like honey. He times his own rutting against the floor of their nest to be in sync with the way Alastor’s cunt spasms around his fingers, releasing a fresh, heady wave of pheromones. 

Unable to stop himself, just as the spasms slow to a halt, Lucifer removes his fingers and releases Alastor’s softening cock from his mouth with a ‘pop’ before promptly applying it to his cunt instead. 

“Lucifer!” Alastor gasps, breathless. 

If Lucifer thought Alastor’s cum was honey, then his slick was ambrosia. The whimpers of overstimulation were barely audible over the sound of his tongue worshiping every inch of Alastor’s pussy. A man possessed, Lucifer is unable to think of a time when he desired anything other than this. How had he ever spent his time in any place that wasn’t between his prized Omega’s thighs?

“Alpha…” Alastor moans once more. “Lucifer, please…”

Lucifer closes his lips gently around Alastor’s clit and hums questioningly. Alastor’s entire body spasms in response. His long, lean thighs clamp tightly around Lucifer’s head and his hands tangle in messy golden locks. “Fuck– Ah! L-Lucifer, please, just a moment–!” 

It takes more willpower than Lucifer has utilized in centuries, but he is able to pull back and look at Alastor, dazed and love-drunk. “Yes, my love?”

“I…” Alastor trails off. Judging by the increased clarity in his eyes, and his ability to call Lucifer by name, the orgasm seems to have brought back some level of mental acuity. “Lucifer, I need…”

“You need…?” Lucifer asks, sliding his slick-covered hand up Alastor’s lower body, from knee, to thigh, to hip. He halts over Alastor’s lower stomach, applying just a tiny bit of pressure there, reveling in the desperate whine it pulls from Alastor’s bitten and kiss-swollen lips. “What do you need, my love?”

“I need you , Alpha.”

“And you have me,” Lucifer teases, well aware of what his Omega means. He presses down just a bit harder, sure that Alastor's mostly full bladder would be wonderfully reactive to it. “C’mon, beautiful, you’ve been behaving so well for me so far, don’t tell me you're going to stop now.”

Alastor sucks in a sharp breath and tightens his thighs satisfyingly around Lucifer’s shoulder. His voice is ragged and desperate as that lusty haze slowly clouds his gaze once again. “I am good. I'll be good, Alpha, please.”

Lucifer almost wants to laugh – it was no secret that there was practically zero refractory period for Omegas in heat, but to see firsthand just how fast it was? If he didn't focus on the novelty of an insatiably horny Alastor, he just might come from the sheer desire in the Omega’s voice alone.

Removing his hands from Alastor's abdomen earns a sigh of relief. Instead, he sits up into a kneeling position and places a hand against each of the Omega’s quivering thighs and presses them wide again. “Then tell me what you want.”

Alastor’s eyes turn entirely black with desire, his small horns tripling in size, as his gaze falls from Lucifer's face to the length between his legs.

Lucifer’s small stature made room for jokes that ‘other things must be pretty small too’, but he is anything but proportionate. To put it briefly, he was fucking massive and damn proud of it.

The blushed-golden length of his cock glistens with sweat and pre-come. The mixture of their scents from where Lucifer rutted like an animal against the urine-soaked fabric has it twitching eagerly, desperate to finally be inside and fill up the Omega laying so beautifully in front of it exactly in the way they both need.

“Y–Your knot.” Alastor spreads his legs wider and rolls his hips down, drawn like a magnet. Like they're meant to be together. “I want you to– Need you to breed me, Alpha. Please .”

Now, Lucifer knew that Alastor did not actually want to be bred. The relationship was still very new and they were nowhere near considering raising any fawn. Hell, they both took measures to actively prevent it!

But fuck did hearing those words make Lucifer want to spend the rest of this heat knotting Alastor over and over in the hopes that they might defy multiple forms of prevention and successfully breed. 

“Is that so?” Lucifer growls, maneuvering his body over Alastor's, caging them both in with his wings so that no glorious heat scent escapes from their own little bubble. “Glad we're in agreement, because I'm desperate to be inside you, my love.”

“ Yes ,” Alastor breathes, hooking his cloven feet around the backs of Lucifer’s thighs, encouraging him to come closer and closer. He raises his hands and loops them around Lucifer’s neck, drawing him down into a searing, messy kiss.

As Lucifer enjoys the taste of Alastor on his tongue once more, he runs a hand between them, lining himself up with the entrance of Alastor's body. He collects just a bit of the warm, delicious slick and rubs it over the tip of his cock so their scents blend together beautifully. 

Breaking the kiss, Lucifer brings his fingers to Alastor's lips and whispers into his ear, “How about you get a taste of what you're in for, hmm?”

He growls possessively as Alastor obediently sucks on his fingers, going so far as to look Lucifer in the eye as he swirls his tongue around them.

“That's it, Alastor,” Lucifer coos, “So desperate to be good for me that you suck on my fingers like a fucking whore just because I asked.“

Alastor's quiet whine to signal his agreement quickly escalates into a full-on moan as Lucifer shifts his hips and slides just a single inch inside. Lucifer takes the chance to withdraw his fingers and brace his hands on either side of Alastor's ribs, feeling the stuttering rise and fall of his chest through the nest floor.

“Does that feel good, Alastor?” Lucifer asks, already knowing the answer. “You know I love making you feel good.”

Alastor nods fervently, hands scrambling for purchase. His claws scratch over Lucifer's scalp to collect fistfuls of golden hair. Goosebumps rise all over Lucifer’s body and the feathers of his wings shiver and puff up. 

“Here. I want you to feel how I fill you up.” Carefully, Lucifer grabs one of Alastor's wrists and draws it between them, guiding it to lay flat over his lower belly. “You’re doing so good holding it for me, do you think you could take just a little more?”

“H-hardly ‘little’,” Alastor jokes through the fog of his heat. Locking eyes with Lucifer, he speaks again with raw, honest conviction. “But I want it.”

Lucifer chuckles as his heart swells. Between this new level of openness and intimacy from Alastor and his own wildfire feeling of love and pride in being trusted by such a closed-off, controlling Omega, Lucifer might just explode. Heaven is always touted as the ultimate place to be – as paradise – but Lucifer would trade a million so-called ‘paradises’ for this one moment right here.

“Your wish is my command, " Lucifer purrs and strokes his thumb over the back of Alastor’s hand before switching to grab his hips. He shifts his own hips back just enough to slip out and then rolls them forward so that the slick-covered tip slides gorgeously over Alastor’s swollen clit. “Anything for The King’s prized Omega.”

With a subtle tilt of his hips, Lucifer guides his cock to line up with the entrance to Alastor’s body and begins to insert himself. 

The first inch in is just as good as the first time and every inch after is impossibly, exponentially better. Lucifer holds fast to both his own breath and Alastor’s hips, using every ounce of his self-control to not immediately thrust all the way inside. Instead, he slowly sheathes himself fully into the addictively hot, tight, and soft walls of Alastor’s cunt.

In their months together, Lucifer has spent his fair share of time inside of Alastor, be it with his tongue, his fingers, or his cock, but none of it compared to this. It felt like Alastor was gripping him, drawing him ever inward like a siren song. Every sensation, every scent and sound, shares his body's desire to be bred.

But Lucifer doesn't move. Every muscle of his body, from head to tail tip, was held static – even his ever-expressive wings have stilled and remain rigid. He would not move an inch until Alastor gave the go-ahead. 

Beneath him, the Omega’s chest expands and compresses with reassuring regularity — nothing rapid or stuttering that might signal discomfort or pain. Dark eyelids rest gently closed over Alastor’s eyes as though he was simply lying there and letting himself feel . 

After a few quiet moments, his eyes flutter open and the way he looks at Lucifer has the Alpha’s heart hurting. Concern and fear. “W-why have you stopped? I haven’t done anything to upset you, have I? Alpha?” Alastor asks in a rush, his voice uncharacteristically wavy. 

“No! No, of course not, my love,” Lucifer urges, his body and mind revolting at the trace scents of rotten wood sneaking into the air. “I was just trying to be considerate and give you time to adjust, my love.”

This thankfully seems to soothe the sudden onslaught of doubt, the distress pheromones dissipating quickly, but Alastor still looks at him warily. ”You said you’d give me your knot.”

Lucifer’s heart squeezes uncomfortably at the prospect that Alastor thought there was any possibility that he would abandon the poor Omega after coming this far. He lies there, jumpy and on the verge of tears at the smallest sign that could possibly be interpreted as rejection. 

“I did and I will, Alastor,” Lucifer promises. He lowers to his elbows, his body arching over Alastor's, forcing the Omega to fold nearly in half. The coal black of his hands tangle themselves among a rolling sea of crimson hair. “I'll give it to you, but you have to give me two things first.” 

A deep breath, in and out, and Alastor calms another fraction. He nods. “Anything, Alpha.”

“First, you let me know when you're about to come. Don't ask me, tell me, okay?” Lucifer waits until he receives an eager nod before continuing. “Second, after you come, I want you to let go.”

“L-let go?” Alastor asks, the tight shaking of fear in his voice, “Do you mean...?”

Pressing their foreheads together, Lucifer whispers, “Yes, Alastor. Let go of anything you're holding on to and give it all to me. I don't care how messy or undesirable you think it is – I want it. I love and want all of you, every single piece. I need you to let go and trust me that I won't run away or be disgusted or regret a single thing. Trust that even in your weakest, most vulnerable state that I will still respect and defer to you.”

Tears pool at the corner of Alastor's crimson eyes, but among the lust and love and joy in the air, there is not even a single note of distress. So Lucifer presses a kiss to the corner of each eye, the tears wet on his lips. “Can you do that for me? Please?” 

Alastor's voice is barely audible when he answers. “...I think so.”

Lucifer smiles into the kiss he places on Alastor's lips, closed-mouth and humming with delighted contentment. “Then why don't we begin, hm?”

Their kiss turns deep as the first shifting of Lucifer’s hips has them both groaning into each other's mouths. The slide is smooth, but friction is still oh so glorious. A single, slow thrust and Lucifer is already seeing stars. “Fuck, Alastor, you feel so fucking perfect.”

The next roll of his hips doubles in speed and pleasure. Sharp pricks of pain stab into his temples, the skin there splitting to make way for his horns. They don't always come out, normally only when the sex is particularly passionate or exertive – the fact that they're making their appearance only two pumps in? 

“Ah– Alastor, shit, you drive me so fucking crazy,” Lucifer swears and picks up the pace until he's up to a moderate, steady rhythm. 

“A-alpha, so…” Alastor's head rolls back as he moans loudly to the ceiling of feathers created by Lucifer's wings. “More, please more,” Alastor whimpers, the hand on his abdomen pressing down. “Feels so good – so full.”

“Yeah? You like how I fill you up?” Lucifer growls, his voice taking on a gravelly quality. He maneuvers the Omega's spread legs to instead hook around the back of his neck, allowing Lucifer to reach another inch deeper. “There's more where that came from, sweetheart. Just wait until I pop my knot inside and breed you just how you deserve.”

“Yes!” Alastor’s free hand fists the bedding lining the bottom of the nest. He's moaning with every breath now as his cock dribbles pre-come onto his stomach. Despite the awkward position, he tries to meet each of Lucifer’s thrusts. “Fill me, Alpha. Let me– Ah! Let me swell with the King’s fawn.”

Careful of his claws, Lucifer grips Alastor's thighs and he fucks into him, obsessed with the way the Omega’s entire body reacts. Submissive ears twitch, a new flood of pheromones arises, and sweet wonton moans sound with each collision of their bodies. The pistoning of Lucifer’s hips accelerates and he finds himself rambling into the hot, heady space between them.

”God, you look so fucking good like this, Alastor; speared on my cock and ready for my knot. And knowing that you’re already so full, but you still beg for more — beg for my cock, my cum, my knot.” Lucifer can barely hear his own words over the sound of skin meeting skin and Alastor’s whines, moans, and fawn-squeaks, but he continues anyway. “Such a good fucking Omega, I can’t believe you let me take care of you like this. So, ah, fuck, so fucking good for me.”

“Yes, Alpha, for you— al-always for you!” Alastor cries between moans, “So good, so full, so close.”

Swiftly removing the feet behind his neck, Lucifer hooks his hands under each of Alastor’s knees and drives them up toward his head, fully folding the Omega in half. The position has to be putting immense pressure on Alastor’s abdomen, but he only moans and begs louder. “Yes! There, Alpha, right t-there please more, more! So close.”

”That’s it, Alastor — holy shit, you’re so fucking tight like this —Fuck, Alastor, you’re close, huh? That’s good, love. Just, fuck, tell me what you need.” Lucifer varies his thrust slightly each time, searching inside for what makes his Omega feel the most pleasure. “I want to see you come so bad, sweetheart.”

”Just keep—“ Alastor gasps, his voice shifting an octave up after the fourth aimed thrust. “There! Alpha, fuck me right there, there, there!”

Pride swelling once again at his swift success, Lucifer hits the same spot over and over again. Soon Alastor is nothing but a mess of pleasure and deer noises beneath him and Lucifer is left holding on for dear life trying his damndest to not come first. He cranes his neck downward to tuck his face into the scent gland at the crook of Alastor’s neck. He floods his own scent with his desire and lust, another layer of encouragement for the Omega to let go.

”Alpha I—“ Alastor gasps and he grabs Lucifer’s horns roughly, holding him in place as he screams, “Alpha I’m going to— I’m — Fuck I’m coming Alpha!”

If the last orgasm was earth-shattering, this one was universe-ending – the heavens, hells, and earth fracturing with the intensity of it all. The earthquakes that shatter the ground they walk on are powered by the intensity in which Lucifer fucks into Alastor’s spasming cunt. Semen spills from Alastor cock, not as much as the first time, but the thing that throws Lucifer over the edge of ecstasy comes after. 

Alastor’s pussy is still fluttering orgasmically on Lucifer’s cock when Lucifer threads his tail through the dome of crimson feathers to press the flat of it against the Omega’s abdomen. With just the smallest amount of applied pressure, a steady stream of warm, wet urine spills over Alastor's stomach, filling the space with his intoxicating scent. 

The splash-back of it all even reaches Lucifer’s chest, not to mention the way it runs in scalding rivulets over his sensitive, twitching tail. It all smells and feels better than anything he had ever experienced, and soon Lucifer’s vision is whiting out. As his orgasm rips through him, he calls out, “Fuck, Alastor, I love you. I love you so much, I’m giving you my knot, Alastor. Love you, love you, love you, A-Alastor—!”

Their cries of pleasure are the soundtrack to the end of all things and their calls of each other's names establish them as the gods of the new world they form between their ragged breaths. Each lungful is rife with the scent of their love, both pure and lustful. The flare of passion and something deeper and ever-burning. Spiced apples and pine trees flood Lucifer’s mind's eye as their aroma permeates. The pure, unbridled scent of them .

Lucifer’s knot swells, filling Alastor’s womb with his seed. The semen, in combination with the size of the knot itself, replaces nearly the same volume that Alastor released. It’s still growing to its full size, locking them together for the next several minutes when the last shivers of pleasure run their course up Lucifer’s spine and his vision returns to him. Below him, Alastor lies there as beautiful as a renaissance painting bathed in a mix of scents that can never be topped. 

It's a sweet comfort as they both come down to bask in the afterglow. Until Lucifer’s knot deflates, there is nothing to do other than enjoy the comfortable proximity, so he presses a quick kiss to Alastor's temple. “How are you feeling, my love?”

“...Sated,” Alastor replies, his eyes still closed. After a brief pause, he adds, “For now, anyway.”

“That's good!” Pressing more kisses down Alastor's temple, to his cheek, chin, neck, and collarbones, Lucifer slowly unfurls Alastor's body from its folded position. He's never experienced it firsthand, but he imagines that a knot coming free before it's ready would be quite painful and, personally, Lucifer is quite attached to his face. No need to give a reason for Alastor to rip it off. “What about your body? I wasn't too rough? And you felt good about everything we did?”

“Please,” Alastor scoffs, "I'm not some frail thing. One round of mildly rough sex will not break me.”

“Mildly rough?” Lucifer parrots Alastor's scoff, offended. “I think I liked you more when you were pliant and cooperative.”

Raising a brow, Alastor asks, “And we’re lying now, are we? In that case, I hated every moment and I never wish to have a repeat experience.” 

Pride vibrates under Lucifer's skin and he can't help the massive grin splitting his face. “You liked it then?”

Adorably, Alastor's ears flick backwards and a pinch of color reappears on his cheeks. “I suppose it was better than spending the heat alone.”

“And the piss play?” Lucifer asks, becoming more and more aware of the fluid in question as it rapidly cools against their skin. “I know we didn't talk about it before and it wasn't really clear if it was a sexual thing for you in the past.”

“While I find a certain gratification in… this aspect,” Alastor gestures to his abdomen, bulging slightly with Lucifer’s knot buried inside. He then turns his gaze to the clear urine pooling at his sides, too much fluid to fully soak into the nest bedding below, and wrinkles his nose. “I don't particularly enjoy the aftermath.”

Lucifer laughs, his whole body shaking with it. He holds tight to Alastor’s hips with one hand, hoping to prevent too much shifting, and waves angelic light over them with the other. All bodily fluids disappear from their skin and the fabric of the nest, leaving it blissfully dry and warm. Grinning, he declares, “There we go – all clean!”

The amused smile and soft “Thank you, dear,” Lucifer gets in return is enough to have his Alpha instincts singing, proud to perform the special treatment only he can provide for his beloved Omega.

With a bit of maneuvering, careful to not pull at the place where they are locked together, Lucifer pulls blankets and pillows in from the walls of the nest. He settles atop Alastor’s larger frame, his head resting on the Omega’s furred chest and sighs contentedly. A blanket is thrown over them both, and Alastor wraps both arms over the small of Lucifer’s back. “I appreciate that you were receptive to my… peculiar request.”

“I’ve tried a lot of things in all my centuries of existence, but that was a first for me.” Lucifer nuzzles the soft, warm fur of Alastor's chest. As he listens for the Omega's steady heartbeat, he smiles. “But I really liked it too.”

The firm chest under him jumps a little as Alastor huffs amusedly. “Truly a match made in Hell.”

A happy giggle slips out and Lucifer threads his arms beneath his partner’s back, squeezing them tightly together. “Shut up and get some rest. We've got at least three days of your heat left and I plan on making every round just as good as the first.”

Another huff of laughter and Alastor repeats back to Lucifer, “Your wish is my command.”