Chapter Text
Two months before the previous chapter–
That Time at the Overlord Meeting…
Lucifer had begun attending Overlord meetings at Alastor's request– something about stepping into his role as a King. Lucifer had very little interest in such things, and found the meetings to be both unsavory and tedious. He was uncomfortable being around these demons, and the Overlords seemed equally uncomfortable around him.
Today, however, was proving to be a deviation from the norm.
Carmilla placed a pair of golden manacles on the table in front of her, their subtle glow indicating a possible divine origin.
Interesting.
A tap on his boot caught Lucifer’s attention. Looking down underneath the table, he spotted one of Alastor’s shadow minions waving up at him, a paper clasped in its tiny claws.
Lucifer extended his hand, covertly taking the folded note. The little horned shadow creature melted into darkness.
The Hell is he thinking? Lucifer thought as he opened the paper in his lap, stealing glances while attempting to look like he was still paying attention.
It was a crude drawing of a snake wrapped around a dick.
No way.
Was he actually requesting a snake job from a clone right now? In the middle of an Overlord meeting?
Lucifer’s eyes slid to the side. Alastor sat two seats away, prim and proper, completely composed.
Lucifer inhaled, focusing on the scents.
Ah.
Alastor was nearly in rut. He always smelled extra delicious to Lucifer during that time of month. Alastor also got progressively more risqué the closer he was to his rut, so the unusually bold request made more sense.
Why not?
Lucifer split himself, his serpentine clone popping into existence in Alastor’s pants. Alastor narrowed his eyes, the only outwards sign of Lucifer initiating this scandalous mid-meeting tryst.
“These manacles could revolutionize Hellish policing,” Carmilla began. “Historically, we've had no way of keeping stronger demons captive. Anyone with teleportation abilities could just” – she gave Alastor a pointed look – “vanish.”
Lucifer was an excellent mental multitasker. He considered the ramifications of these angelic manacles while his clone coiled around Alastor's erection– and damn was he hard. Al spread his legs for ease of Lucifer's access and Lucifer bit back a moan.
So hot.
Alastor closed his eyes for a few moments as Lucifer began to move– Lucifer could picture the way the sclera had probably bled black.
“We won't be able to mass produce them. But through my contact, I should be able to obtain a few dozen,” Carmilla said, glancing around to observe reactions.
“Let me see,” Lucifer called out. He’d be able to tell if these were genuine.
Carmilla slid them across the table.
–
Alastor was only vaguely paying attention to the goings-on in this meeting. He’d been so fucking aroused since the moment Lucifer had entered the room, taking his seat and kicking his feet up like he owned the place.
Which, technically, he did.
Sometimes Alastor’s rut eased in slowly and sometimes it punched him right in the groin, and today was the latter.
Having Lucifer’s serpentine form undulating softly around his dick had made him feel considerably less irritable, but wasn't doing much to help his focus. He shouldn't be here at all.
Vox kept giving him glances from across the table. He hated that his old pal had decided to start attending these meetings himself– it was much more pleasant when he sent one of his cronies instead.
Alastor suspected that as an Omega, Vox possibly had an inkling that he was near rut. Or perhaps he was sensitive enough to pick up the subtle bursts of static that Alastor couldn't quite control as smooth scales slid along sensitive skin, pressure constricting and releasing.
Ah.
Lucifer had really gotten quite good at this. As a snake, Lucifer was just as dextrous as one of Alastor's tentacles, and he knew just the rhythm and application of pressure to optimize his pleasure.
Fuck.
The moment this meeting ended he was taking Lucifer to bed. Just the thought of having his Omega spread beneath him, wet and willing and begging for his cock, was enough to push him to the edge. He felt his antlers creak with the desire to extend, but held them in check.
He was going to orgasm at this damn meeting. He watched blankly as Lucifer picked up the pair of supposed angelic manacles, and locked one of the delicate golden rings onto his slender wrist. It tightened magically, the wide ring shrinking down.
He felt snake Lucifer’s forked tongue flick out over the head of his cock, and that was all it took. Alastor clenched his teeth as he climaxed, focused entirely on maintaining his silence and controlling his radio static as he came in his pants like the uncivilized beast Lucifer always turned him into.
Snake Lucifer convulsed around him one final time before poofing out of existence, just as Lucifer clicked on the second binding.
What the Hell is that imbecile doing?
The entire room tensed, Alastor’s euphoria cut short as a familiar smell reached his nose.
Apples and cinnamon.
Oh dear.
Covering Lucifer’s shapeshifted clone in his cum while he was in rut had not been a wise move. The impromptu bath had triggered Lucifer’s heat with a vengeance, and everyone in the room but Vox knew it.
The entire room went silent, all eyes swiveling to Lucifer, who had frozen in shock. He swallowed nervously and cleared his throat.
“Yup! That's a genuine angelic binding– would you mind handing over the key, Carmilla?”
Shit.
Every Alpha in the room now had their sights locked on Lucifer. This boardroom was about to become a battlefield if Lucifer didn't teleport away immediately.
Alastor’s eyes slid down to the golden metal around his wrists.
He would not be teleporting immediately.
“The key, Carmilla,” Alastor reiterated for him, lips wavering with a low growl. He stood up from his seat, cane in hand, daring anyone to move.
He’d begun holding his breath, but even from the brief exposure to pheromones he was ready to fuck Lucifer right here, on the table, in front of everyone.
And so was nearly everyone else. But Hell if he’d let any of these bastards touch his Omega. He was the only bastard with that privilege.
“Why the fuck is everyone–” Vox looked around in confusion. Alastor was confident he'd catch on in a few moments.
“Shit,” Lucifer moaned, lust flushing his cheeks with gold. Alastor’s antlers branched out as fury and fear entwined, his mind grasping at strategies through the deluge of sudden panic.
Zestial moved first, webbing shooting out from his long, spindly black fingers. Lucifer, too distracted to dodge, was abruptly strung upside-down from the ceiling, dangling by his foot. Zestial positioned to grab him.
Zeezi leapt onto the table, neon green and pink hair standing on end as she poised to spring.
Carmilla was just barely being restrained by her two daughters.
Rosie was doing her best to resist, claws digging into the table, but the desire was clear– as Lucifer had pushed the entire room into rut at once with that damn apples and cinnamon scent of his.
Alastor didn’t hesitate, his shadows coiling and twisting through the room, twirling up legs and latching onto tails, slowing down the action enough that Alastor had the time to come up with a more solid plan.
Alastor took control of the sound system in the room, projecting a squeal of feedback that was so obnoxious, everyone but himself and Vox cringed and blocked their ears.
A shadow minion spawned beside Carmilla, pickpocketed her, and scurried to Alastor’s side by the time the feedback dissipated enough for everyone to regain their bearings.
He took the key from the tiny black outstretched hand, and his minion merged back with his shadow.
Realization brightened the settings of Vox’s screen, and he slapped Valentino across the face as the moth shook off Alastor’s tentacle and moved to step towards Lucifer.
“You already have an Omega, get your ass out of here or I'll be bringing out the lamp,” he threatened, eyes oscillating in a hypnotic red spiral. He pointed towards the exit and gave Val a rough push.
Valentino stumbled, the threat seeming to snap him from his pheromone-induced stupor.
“Dios mío, the King of Hell is an Omega,” he gasped, covering his nose with a gloved hand as he fled out the door, Vox on his heels.
Vox turned back and gave Alastor a lingering, suspicious look. There may have been some longing in there too, but Alastor had no shits to give about it. Alastor flicked him off, and Vox’s face flashed with fury before Alastor dissolved into shadows. He reappeared behind Lucifer, who was still thrashing around pathetically in Zestial’s web.
“Stop wiggling,” he ordered, static harsh in his voice as he stuck the key into the manacles and turned. Lucifer obeyed and Al swiftly disengaged the latches, dropped the metal cuffs into his pocket and wrapped his arms around a moaning Lucifer.
He teleported.
They both dropped into Lucifer's bed, in the safety of his home.
“Fuck,” Lucifer groaned, curling into the fetal position and shoving a hand into his own pants. Alastor hopped off the bed, away from Lucifer, trying to regain control of his temper.
He wanted to return and murder everyone.
Alastor wasn't sure if he could face every relevant Overlord in Hell at once, but he could certainly try.
“Al, I need you,” Lucifer whimpered, stretching out a hand in his direction. He dematerialized Alastor’s clothes and his own with a wave, seeming to recall the return of his powers.
The manacles that were in Alastor’s pocket clattered to the floor, unaffected by his magic.
Now in the nude, Alastor bent down and picked them up alongside the key. He gave Lucifer a speculative look.
Could he really blame the Alphas in that room for wanting a bite of the delectable creature in front of him? The tempter of the original sin, divinely designed to be irresistible?
Perhaps he could not blame them.
But he still wanted to rip them apart, to remove each of their eyes for having the audacity to witness his Omega in such a state.
“What are you–” Lucifer stammered as Alastor returned to the bed, wrenched one of Lucifer’s wrists above his head and slapped on a cuff. His angel was so lost to his heat, he didn't seem to even consider resisting him.
Alastor was not so foolhardy as to teleport back into that boardroom. But he would be taking out his frustrations.
“What does it look like I’m doing, dove? You deserve punishment today.”
Lucifer’s tail thrashed. “What? Why? That wasn’t my fault!”
Alastor tsked as he lifted Lucifer’s free hand away from where he’d been fingering himself, up to join the first. The manacle locked with a click, and Lucifer’s horns and tail vanished as the cuffs sealed his powers.
“Never voluntarily let your guard down, neuter your fucking powers, in front of any demon other than myself,” Alastor admonished, still incensed by the stupidity. Lucifer was so intelligent until he wasn't.
“And I shouldn’t have to watch my mate stare at another with lust,” he finished with a hard glare.
That look of overwhelming sexual hunger Lucifer had leveled the room with– that look was for Alastor alone.
–
Lucifer observed the way Alastor’s eye twitched as he tucked the key into the bedside table drawer.
My mate, he’d said.
Lucifer narrowed his eyes, ignoring the way his heart skipped a beat at the words. Alastor hadn’t even claimed him. It was still Lilith’s mark on his neck– yet here Alastor was, acting like he was his Alpha.
Lucifer was beyond relieved that Alastor had removed him from that situation– but damn if he was going to admit to being Alastor’s mate when he wouldn’t even mark him.
“I don’t see why you care, it's not like I’m actually your mate.”
Alastor’s neck cracked as his head turned at an unnatural angle, the dials of his pupils spinning as blackened eyes narrowed in on him.
“What did you say?”
Lucifer swallowed, suddenly less certain about pursuing this line of conversation while his hands were bound above his head, most of his strength sealed away, and his pussy practically on fire.
Alastor rejoined him on the bed, positioning between his legs. He grasped Lucifer’s thighs, forcing his legs up up up, nearly folding him in half.
“What did you say?” he repeated, softer this time. His smile was pulled taunt in threat, and all Lucifer could think was that he needed his Alpha inside him now.
He wasn’t sure how Alastor was even keeping his wits about him with the amount of pheromones he was surely giving off.
–
Alastor’s sanity was hanging on by a thread, and that thread was made of fury.
Lucifer was his.
Alastor was certain he was the angel’s only current lover. The amount of time Lucifer spent with Alastor's dick in his mouth between heats was too damn high to even entertain the thought of other lovers, clones be damned.
He wasn't sure what had inspired this bit of rebellion but he would be quelling it.
He should flip Lucifer over and rip that damn mark off with his teeth.
That meeting had come terribly close to a Lucifer gang-bang, and now he was here fanning the flames of Alastor’s anger by acting like that would’ve been fine.
Logically, he knew Lucifer hadn't wanted that. But logic tended to take a back seat once pheromones got involved.
Alastor took some solace in the way Lucifer’s thighs trembled beneath his fingers, and the way his exposed pussy shined with slick. But he wasn't going to give Lucifer what they both wanted– not yet. Alastor dived down with his mouth.
“I want your dick!” Lucifer hissed, trying to press his legs together. Alastor easily overpowered him, the manacles reducing Lucifer’s strength by several orders of magnitude.
“Naughty Omegas don’t get my dick, dear,” he whispered against Lucifer’s pussy lips. Lucifer’s complaints ceased as Alastor dragged his tongue down along his slit.
“Ah, fuck!” Lucifer gasped as Alastor penetrated him with his tongue. Alastor carefully used the pad of his finger to massage his clit, the corresponding claw scraping a light circle on Lucifer’s lower abdomen while he tasted Lucifer's insides. Lucifer's saccharine flavor was perhaps the only sweet Alastor genuinely enjoyed.
When Lucifer was squirming and moaning like the bitch in heat he was, Alastor pulled back his tongue. He licked his lips. Lucifer was delicious, be it blood or slick.
“Who’s your Alpha, little dove?”
“Well I do call you Al– ha ha.”
That was his angel, always hilarious. Alastor spawned a tentacle and thrust inside him before having it immediately dissipate.
Lucifer might have flown right off the bed had he the ability to summon his wings. “Al, you are! You are! Just fuck me already!”
Alastor hummed against his cunt.
“And who is your mate, hmm?”
“Fuck you!”
“I'm waiting.”
“You know you are, Al,” Lucifer growled with a whine, hooves kicking in exasperation. Alastor’s tentacles twisted around his legs to restrain him.
“Tell me whose cock you need inside of you.”
“Yours!”
Damn right it’s mine.
Alastor leaned back down, tongue featherlight. He summoned another tendril of shadow, and it slid through the slick dripping down Lucifer’s thighs before slipping into his ass.
“Fuck!” Lucifer hissed, hips bucking off the bed.
Alastor sealed his lips around Lucifer’s clit and sucked, and his angel practically vibrated beneath him. It was a farce to even consider that another could satisfy Lucifer like he could.
Not that he would be giving Lucifer that satisfaction right now.
–
Alastor was surely torturing him. Every time he got close, Alastor eased off and slowed his pace.
Lucifer wanted to grab Alastor’s antlers and grind his pussy into that fanged smile, but the manacles held his wrists firmly above his head. So instead he just lay writhing in agony, desperate beyond words to either climax or have Alastor finally shove his dick inside him.
I’m getting close again.
He felt the muscles in his abdomen tighten, and Alastor eased the tentacle out of his ass, clearly having no intention of allowing Lucifer to come yet.
“Fuck! I’m so close, Al!”
“I know.”
Lucifer lifted his neck to look down at him.
“You bastard,” he accused, falling back against the pillow again.
“You’ve been bad, Lucifer. Naughty Omegas like you don’t deserve satisfaction.”
Ugh.
He hadn’t wanted anyone else in that room. All he ever wanted was Alastor– he thought he’d made that clear enough by contriving reasons to spend an increasing amount of time with him outside of their monthly cycle.
Alastor had single handedly revived Lucifer’s out-of-heat libido– It wasn't uncommon for Lucifer to leave a clone of himself with Alastor in his office, where he would happily service Alastor under his desk while he worked some of the more tedious administrative tasks of the hotel.
If it was Alastor’s turn to make dinner, he just happened to show up in the kitchen. If Alastor was having a late night, Lucifer suddenly couldn’t sleep and would read a book or have a glass of sweet wine in his company.
Lucifer had yet to deny a single one of Alastor’s advances; Alastor said jump and Lucifer asked how high? Alastor said spread and Lucifer asked how wide?
He was the fucking King of Hell and he was constantly on his knees for this man– surely Alastor understood what that meant.
Alastor eased back again and Lucifer groaned in frustration. This fucking deer.
“I can’t even punish you as severely as I’d like,” Alastor stated, voice rough with static as he rose up on his knees. His fully erect cock was dripping with precum, and drool gathered in Lucifer’s mouth as he salivated. Alastor always painted such a captivating picture, hard lines contrasted by soft fur.
His ears flicked back in annoyance. “I’m afraid it requires more self-control than I possess.”
With that Alastor bent down over him, breath fanning against Lucifer’s lips as he lined up his cock and pushed.
Lucifer cried out as he damn near soared to a higher plane of existence as Alastor’s thick cock finally spread him open, relentlessly pressing forward until he was buried to the hilt.
One of Alastor’s hands was braced beside Lucifer’s head, and with his other he traced his claws along Lucifer’s jaw. His hips remained unmoving as they both basked in the fullness.
“Open,” he instructed.
Lucifer opened his mouth, and Alastor pushed two fingers in.
Lucifer curled his tongue around them, suckling, enjoying the way it made Al’s breath catch.
His lover was always so all-consuming. It was one of the things he liked about him. He always fucked Lucifer like he couldn't get enough of him at once, and ensured there was no place else Lucifer's wandering mind could be.
Alastor began to move his hips and Lucifer closed his eyes, lost in the feel of him. Funny that this aspect of the Almighty's punishment brought Lucifer closer to Heaven than anything else in this godforsaken place.
Alastor was without words now, his low grunts interspersed between Lucifer’s blissful moans. He wanted to touch him, run his fingers along the ears that brushed his chin as Alastor dragged his tongue along Lucifer's chest. The demon had a tendency to stretch his neck in strange ways in order to reach the unreachable while they fucked, and it drove Lucifer crazy, gasping around his fingers as Alastor’s long tongue swirled around a nipple.
To be at Alastor's mercy triggered no anxiety, no fear. It was a silly, foolish thought– but Lucifer felt as if he’d survived all of human existence, all these millenia as an Omega, just to make it to this point, fated to be entangled in the arms of the Radio Demon.
In comparison to the vulnerability of his heart in the midst of Alastor's affections, the vulnerability of his body was hardly worth the mention.
–
Alastor slid the fingers Lucifer was sucking on out of his mouth to grasp his chin and ensure he was looking straight ahead.
“I want your eyes on me, Lucifer.” Alastor could barely form words. “Look at your Alpha as you come.”
Lucifer’s golden eyes widened and he came instantly, hips arching, the walls of his tight cunt squeezing around Alastor’s cock. “Al,” he gasped, his lithe muscles straining against the manacles holding his wrists captive above his head. His face contorted with ecstasy, red irises eclipsed by the dilation of his pupils, an obscene moan spilling from his parted lips.
Beautiful.
Fuck.
He had planned on pulling out, on making Lucifer suffer one last time by coming on him instead of in him, but he couldn’t do it. He needed to fill Lucifer with his seed more than he needed his next breath, needed his cock knotted inside his Omega’s tight cunt.
Alastor wouldn’t be satisfied until Lucifer was dripping his cum out of every damn orifice on his sinful body.
With a snarl Alastor pushed in deep, pressing his weight down onto Lucifer, porcelain skin smooth against his fur. He maintained eye contact, making sure Lucifer continued to watch as he orgasmed, staking his claim in the only way he felt he could– by painting Lucifer’s insides with himself.
Every month he was going to hold his little dove hostage, filling him over and over until one day, he would surely beg Alastor to mark him.
He rested their foreheads together, heavy breaths the only noise in the otherwise silent bedroom. He’d become fond of these moments with his cock locked inside Lucifer, their bodies pressed close in the wake of their pleasure.
After a pause, Lucifer jiggled his wrists, the chain between the manacles clinking with the movement. “Can we… unlock these?” Lucifer asked quietly.
Alastor raised a brow, grin curling into a sneer.
“Absolutely not, darling. You need to be taught a lesson.”
Alastor grabbed Lucifer by his hair and tugged his head roughly to the side. His angel enjoyed being man-handled, so he felt no remorse at Lucifer’s soft gasp.
“Wouldn't want you to forget what a demon might do to you…” Alastor dipped his head into Lucifer’s neck, inhaling right on his scent gland. Exquisite.
“...if you were to, say, don a pair of angelic manacles in a room full of them.”
Alastor sunk his fangs into Lucifer’s neck.