Darcy Darling Dabbles

In fanfiction ~ Smut is my day job…fluff is my hobby

[darcydarlingdabbles]

Darcy Darling Fics - MasterPost

All my Fics, under the cut~

❣️Ao3❣️Original Fics (1 Year Free)❣️BlueSky❣️Ko-fi❣️

Current Schedule

Sundays - Until The Devil's Last Dance

Tuesdays - Falling For the Morningstars

Thursdays - The Melody Between Us

Seasons of Us/Human Holiday AU

Part 4 - At Spring Break - Due April 2025

Seasons of Us follows the tender, steamy romance between Lucifer Morningstar, a depressed, recently divorced father, and Alastor, his daughter’s quietly dominant roommate. Set against the cozy warmth of autumn and the quiet magic of winter (so far), their story is full of emotional smut, unspoken tension, and the kind of love that feels both fragile and inevitable.

1 - At Autumn's End ~ Tumblr ~ Ao3

2 - At Mid Winter ~ Tumblr ~ Ao3

🎙️Good evening, my dear listeners, and welcome to a story woven from the musical notes of desire and darkness. Ah, but what is love at first sight without a touch of madness, hmm? For the next three nights, our line up of songs will weave a mid-century romance laced with beauty and blood. And the latter, well... it’s oh-so-sweet. Fear not, my darlings, for even death cannot part us. So sit back, relax, and allow me to guide you through this deliciously twisted affair... until the devil’s last dance. 🎙️

1 - 'Til There Was You ~ Tumblr ~ Ao3

2 - The House of the Rising Sun ~ Tumblr ~ Ao3

3 - The Devil in Disguise (After part 2 finishes)

This story is a chaotic mix of found family, kink in the bedroom but awkward in the kitchen romance, and breaking down some big ass emotional baggage—all set in the big but empty Morningstar Palace.

Falling for the Morningstars ~ Tumblr ~ Ao3

~❣️Other Hazbin Hotel Fics❣️ ~

The Static Between Us - The Melody Between Us

Human Hotel Field Trip

Boys at The Beach

Fit to Be Tied

One Last Round

A Harmony of Haunted Hearts

[darcydarlingdabbles]

Radioapple Titanic AU - Chapter 4 Draft

So I was working on Chapter 4...and I got stuck like halfway through...

((still working on getting my writing back...I even went to writer group therapy XD. But I wanted to show ya the staircase scene which I'm super proud of...and the gossip scenes, which I am less so))

Grand Staircase, 6:55 PM

Alastor arrived at the top of the Grand Staircase at six fifty-three.

Which was two minutes earlier than necessary.

And four minutes earlier than Vox.

As the omega always was. Whenever he could manage it.

A year of engagement had taught him well what the constraints of his captivity were, and how to find the gaps between the gilded bars.

Tonight, he had stolen 90 seconds away from Vox. Squirreled away like a stamp collection—and about as practical as the dust they gathered.

Because his pilfered pennies would never add up to pay for anything.

They were small, they were useless, but they were the only things that truly belong to a betrothed omega.

And tonight, Alastor was adding the view from the top of the landing to his tiny stamp collection.

The Grand Staircase opened beneath him in sweeping oak and wrought iron, descending five decks through the heart of the ship.

Above him, the dome of light was warm and grand and nothing like the sky above where night had already fallen.

His grandmother would never have believed this.

At the main landing, there was a bronze relief of two figures around a clock—that Alastor completely ignored in favor of counting the seconds for himself as he began his descent.

Ten stairs to the first landing.

A turn.

The rest of the flight.

Stairs, seconds, the minute moment between a comment and a consequence.

The Heart of the Ocean swung a fraction of an inch with every step. He was almost agonizingly aware of the stone’s weight—like a damn horse with a bit.

It didn’t hurt him to wear it.

But wearing it colored each of his stolen seconds.

Heavy against his collarbones, platinum chain links catching at the invisible hairs, like the scales of a snake slithering around his neck.

Coiling ever tighter against his brown skin. Only making his uncovered throat feel more exposed.

Vox had wanted the room to look. His alpha always got what he wanted, even when he wasn’t in the room.

Because the entire room was looking.

It was rather hard to miss a diamond the size of a robin’s egg, even if it did not shine in the dome’s diffused light.

Alastor could feel every gaze pricking at his naked throat, like their thoughts were also tugging at the invisible hairs, prickling at his bare skin. Making every movement just another tiny pluck of pain.

Were they thinking about Vox’s money?

Or…were they thinking about Alastor’s neck?

Not that it mattered. Not really.

Neither belonged to the omega anymore.

A young man of Alastor’s kin was always under social scrutiny, and every falter was a fundamental flaw of his nature, but also somehow a failure of his alpha.

So Alastor fell easily into his old training. Keeping his chin level. His shoulders soft. And his face pretty as a portrait.

Smile the smile of contentment without inviting a conversation.

Alastor was very good at that smile.

When he reached the bottom stair, he arranged himself just so, with one gloved hand on the banister’s terminal scrollwork.

Close enough to touch, but careful not to need.

Tilting his head, oh so demurely.

The perfect poise of an omega waiting to be collected.

Everything exactly as it should be.

Except…

Vox was not there to collect him.

Six fifty-seven.

The orchestra in the reception room shifted their melody into a proper waltz. Because the wealthy simply could not walk between rooms without a string quartet to receive them.

A steward glided by with a silver tray without a backward glance at Alastor. The careful not-looking of a man who had seen the collar and decided the omega was someone else’s problem.

Six fifty-eight.

Six fifty-nine.

Seven o’clock.

No Vox.

An old dowager on the mezzanine looked down at him, glanced back up, and touched her companion’s arm in the particular way wealthy widows clutched each other when they were about to gossip.

Alastor did not have to hear her voice to know, because the math was simple.

Where was that omega’s alpha? Look at the jewelry on that boy. How did an omega have two collars and no escort?

Alastor’s smile did not move an inch under the scrutiny. His smile never moved. His smile was load-bearing architecture, and he was the structure that would collapse without it.

But the brunette’s mind moved faster than the ship beneath him. Realizing, with a particularly flat clarity, that he had been collared and pomaded and dressed within an inch of impropriety, for a man who had not bothered to arrive on time.

And the math, cruel as it always was, came to only one conclusion.

He would be to blame.

When a man of old money was late, he was occupied with important matters. When a man of new money was late, it was his personal failing.

And, in their year of picture perfect betrothal, all of Vox’s failings, somehow, became Alastor’s inadequacy.

The omega hadn’t reminded him, hadn’t managed the schedule, hadn’t performed the hundred invisible labors that kept an alpha punctual and presentable.

Seven oh-two.

Alastor began to construct a plausible reason to move—toward the potted palm, toward a column, anywhere that was not the top of the staircase with no one beside him—when he saw him.

Not Vox.

Lucifer.

Off to the side near one of the carved oak columns, hands clasped behind his back with the posture of a schoolboy at a recital. He was looking up the staircase, at the clock. His head tilted slightly, his mouth doing something that might have been a smile or a private argument with the artist.

Alastor had a moment to see him before being seen.

The suit was dark charcoal wool, fine, well-cut. It didn’t fit right in the shoulders, but borrowed clothes had a way of carrying the memory of the body they were meant for….the bowtie was not quite level though, and there was no excuse for that tiny faux pas.

And Alastor had no earthly idea why his chest fluttered with fondness.

Lucifer's hair had been combed back and slicked down and somehow still not fully subdued.

The short alpha brought his hand up to his mouth, and the omega saw—to his incredulous delight—there was still charcoal under one thumbnail. Like the artist couldn’t help but touch one of his pieces. One last time. Before he had to be pulled away.

In not so many words…he cleaned up well.

Then Lucifer turned his head.

Their eyes met across fifteen feet of marble, mahogany, and electric light, and the orchestra kept playing, and the dowager kept watching, and the Heart of the Ocean kept sitting heavily against Alastor's sternum, and the room kept going around them.

But time had stilled, uncrowned between them.

Lucifer’s surprise was an understated thing. The dark eyebrows lifting for a moment, as if he did not recognize Alastor when he was dressed in sapphire and not scarlet.

Before a smile split his face. His eyes doing the thing they did in the well deck, at the portfolio, at the stern. Just, looking at him. No glance at the collar. No recalibration for the weight of the diamond at his throat.

The way he looked at the little girl pointing at the horizon, as though there were something worth seeing beneath the carefully arranged surface.

The smile Alastor had been holding for twelve minutes. The public one. The one that he had painted on in the mirror. The smile he wore like armor under the scrutiny of an absent alpha—did not drop.

He could not let it drop, not here, not with the dowager on the third stair and the silent, constant eyes of the stewards.

But it cracked, somewhere underneath where no one could see it.

He shoved it back down. Barely. And let one gloved hand guide him down the staircase.

Resisting the urge to cling to the scrowl work, lest he drift off into the sea.

"Mr. Alastor."

Lucifer greeted with a bow that was slightly too small to be proper and slightly too warm to be formal.

"Mr. Magne."

Alastor meant it to sound unaffected.

It did not.

Alastor looked at Lucifer in the borrowed suit, and Lucifer looked at Alastor in the midnight-blue waistcoat with two collars at his throat, and for three full seconds the rest of the Grand Staircase simply ceased to exist.

Neither of them looked for Vox.

But Alastor felt that flutter again. Against the platinum chain of his heavy engagement collar, like a bird testing the bars of a cage.

Three seconds. Four. Five.

Then Lucifer stepped forward. Until he was close enough that Alastor could smell the faint trace of gardenia, and beneath it, the tobacco and linseed oil.

The blonde offered his palm to the brunette.

Alastor looked at it. The calluses were still there, the particular roughness of a hand that held pencils and oars and fishing lines and had, once, closed around his own with a steadfastness the omega had never felt without a price to be paid.

He placed his gloved hand in the alpha’s palm. And almost missed the goofy, schoolboy grin before Lucifer ducked and pressed his lips to the back of the white kid leather.

Then he straightened, and the grin that broke across his face was so wide it crinkled the corners of his eyes.

"I saw that in a nickelodeon and always wanted to do it."

Alastor's laugh came before he could catch it. Not the high, bell-like peal he used at dinner tables, not the empty chuckle he deployed when someone else's joke demanded acknowledgment.

His undignified chuckle was nearly a snort.

"You absolute charlatan," he said, and his accent slipped out with the words, the vowels going soft and round. "You've never seen a nickelodeon in your life."

"I have! There was one in Paris, near the—"

"You are lying to me on the Grand Staircase of the RMS Titanic while wearing another man's trousers."

"Hey, the trousers are irrelevant to the—"

"Offer me your arm, Mr. Magne."

Lucifer huffed and rolled his golden eyes, but then did exactly ask requested. He lifted his arm, bent at the elbow, and offered it.

Alastor took it.

“Now, we walk to dinner.”

“Yes, Mr. Alastor.”

They turned toward the dining saloon together, and the dowager's gaze followed them, and Alastor did not care.

The Heart of the Ocean swung against his sternum with each step, and for the first time since Vox had clasped it around his throat, it did not feel like a bit.

"Your bowtie is crooked."

"I’m aware."

"Well, you clean up well despite it," he murmured, pitching his under the music. Because it was just for the man next to him to hear.

"Rosie's doing." Lucifer's mouth tilted. "I've been informed the goal tonight is not to trip over my own feet."

"A modest ambition."

"I’d rather reach for the stars." Lucifer shrugged. And Alastor felt himself stiffen. “But I’ll keep it down tonight.”

He offered without being told.

And Alastor accepted without comment. Because he didn’t know what he really preferred actually. For Lucifer to be himself…or to fit in at dinner.

He didn’t know which was worse.

They were already at the next staircase when Alastor caught a flicker of familiar movement out of the corner of his eye. The cut of the suit, the shine of his shoes, the single gray streak at the temple that Vox hated and Alastor had never been permitted to have an opinion about.

The omega did not turn.

Because he had decided, in a fraction of a heartbeat, that he had not seen anything at all. He was going to proceed as though he had not seen Vox.

And he committed to it cleanly, the way he committed to anything that required precision under pressure. His head stayed forward. His pace stayed even. His expression stayed in the register of a well-mannered omega on his way to be seated.

Even if he could feel mismatched eyes staring daggers into the back of his head.

The year of being looked at by the same man.

Vox had seen him. Vox had seen Lucifer. Vox was now, on the landing, performing the same math Alastor had just performed.

Calling out would be uncouth. Drawing attention to his omega on the arm of another alpha was social suicide.

The alpha could not run. He could not make a scene, not with three old families standing within earshot and the evening's entire civil play already in motion. He would have to finish his descent at the dignified pace of a man who had meant to be late, and then cross the foyer at the dignified pace of a man who had meant to cross it alone, regardless of how long it took his fiance to cross it with another man.

Alastor had not refused him.

Alastor had simply not noticed him.

He would pay for that later. Tonight or tomorrow or the night after that, in the careful quiet of a connecting door that never quite closed, he would lose every second he’d squirreled away.

Funny how his pennies were useless until the bill came due.

But that debt was for another day.

First-Class Dining Saloon, 7:05 PM

The saloon at dinner was a different room than the saloon at breakfast.

Chandeliers blazed and buzzed over five hundred and forty soon to be occupied seats.

This morning it had been pale cut-glass columns and silver coffee pots and the hushed performance of women conducting themselves with propriety. Tonight the room was what it had been designed for. Every alpha present, the whole congregation assembled, and the quartet playing a Strauss waltz that precisely none of them were listening to.

Alastor had sketched this room in his mind so often he could navigate it without looking. Tonight he found himself seeing it through the slight widening of the focus beside him — through the way Lucifer's head wanted to tilt upward and was being very carefully not tilted.

"Steady," Alastor murmured.

"I'm steady." Lucifer said, with a little squaring of his shoulders. "I'm completely steady. I'm not going to look at the chandeliers."

"They're electric."

"Completely electric? Marvelous."

"But do not stare at them as if you’ve never seen such a marvel before."

“But I haven’t.”

“But you cannot look like you haven’t.”

He felt, rather than heard, the small exhale of amusement beside him. “Not allowed to marvel at a modern marvel of technology. Go figure.”

They began the long walk between the tables toward the far end of the room, and Alastor did what he had wanted to do since the morning.

Gossip.

"Don't look directly," he began, with the light cadence of narrating something inevitable, "but the gentleman at the second table, the one with the unfortunate spectacles that appear to have been designed in opposition to his face. Sir Pentious. Shipping magnate. The captain is attempting an Atlantic record on this crossing, which Sir Pentious experiences as a personal offense. Avoid him unless you wish to hear the word ballast deployed as an insult."

"Noted."

"Third table. The woman in the ostrich plumes. Helsa Von Eldritch. Collects young artists. Discards them just as quickly, and rarely returns what she borrowed." He let the pause land before the last piece. "Do not agree to sit for her unless you enjoy being owned."

A beat, brief, in which Alastor was acutely aware of what he'd just said and to whom and in what context, and chose to let it stand.

"Noted also," Lucifer said, though the edge of his smile soured.

"Fifth table. White-haired gentleman, very young companion at his side."

"How young?"

"Young enough that everyone at this table is pretending not to count backwards. Mammon. Richest man on this ship. Third wife. The first two are spoken of only in hushed tones by people who claim to know nothing about them."

"Do you believe the rumors?"

Alastor considered this for exactly one step. "I believe in the rumors, which is entirely different."

Lucifer glanced up at him sideways. "Is it now?"

"Belief in a rumor requires evidence. Belief in the rumor's existence requires only an understanding of human nature. The second is considerably more reliable."

They were nearing the far end of the room. Alastor did not slow.

"And the woman in the gold, seated two down from Mammon—don't turn—that is the Dowager Seraphine. Her son and his wife will be at our table tonight. Her opinion of my fiancé will determine whether he is received in Newport this summer." He kept his voice perfectly pleasant. "Mr. Whitman spent the morning purchasing approximately half the cigars aboard this ship in preparation for the smoking room. He does not yet know that the Dowager's approval matters more than her son’s, and that she decides during dinner rather than after it." A small pause. "I would be grateful if you didn't mention that I told you."

"I wouldn't know how to mention it."

"A small mercy."

Lucifer was quiet for a moment. They were close enough to the table now that Alastor could see the stewards moving between courses at the neighboring tables. Lucifer's pace did not change. His arm did not tighten.

"You know everything about everyone in this room, don't you," he said. He did not ask.

"Information is currency." Alastor kept his eyes forward. "And it happens to be the only kind I am permitted to hold."

He felt Lucifer's arm shift under his hand—tightening, brief and deliberate, and then releasing. Which was subtle for the language of a man who usually said things with the bluntness of his charcoal stub.

Alastor returned the gesture.

The table was already assembling itself when they arrived. Mr. Cherubin was settling into the chair at Vox's right—the chair Alastor had occupied at every meal for three months. So he was alway within arm's reach at all times.

Emily was two seats down, silver-and-amethyst collar catching the light, her alpha's name on an empty place card beside her.

Sir Pentious had materialized at the far end, muttering under his breath about the vibration of the engines. Seraphine's husband was settling in beside him. The Dowager, Alastor noted with the quick scan of the room he did automatically, was at the table across from them, positioned with a clear line of sight to this one.

Rosie was already in her chair, placed on Alastor's other side, stunning in magenta silk that had already announced itself. Her white hair was giving her three more inches of height that she did not need. And her eyes were lined with kohl and the confidence someone who had decided years ago that propriety was someone else's concern.

When Lucifer escorted Alastor in, her expression did not change. Her eyes did. A flick toward Alastor's hand on Lucifer's arm. A flick back. A small nod, angled downward.

Vox arrived a half-step behind them.

Whatever Alastor had seen in his face at the landing had been pressed back into the case and the lid closed and the clasps fastened. His smile was wider and brighter than it needed to be, like an animal trying to show all of its teeth at once.

Vox had not appreciated the comparison or critique, and Alastor had not made it twice.

It was the smile Vox wore when something had happened that had not been in the plan, and he was determining, in real time, whose fault it was going to be.

He extended his hand to Cherubin first, which was correct. He played the gracious host for thirty seconds, which was also adequate. He gestured Alastor into his usual seat with the sweep of a hand that, at a distance, could be read as affectionate.

And then, as Alastor sat, Vox's hand found the small of his back.

One second. The pressure of four fingers just above the waistband, deliberate, measured. There and gone before anyone across the table could have registered the touch as anything other than a fiancé's care.

A reminder. As clear as if he'd said it.

"Mr. Magne." Vox turned to Lucifer, making three syllables sound as thin and as sharp the first prick of a needle. "Welcome to the table. I trust the accommodations are agreeing with you."

"Very much so." Lucifer settled into his chair on the other side of the table with the easy comfort of a man who had sat on wooden crates in dockyard markets and found no hierarchy in chairs. "The coffee in the general room is better than anything I had in Marseilles."

"I'm sure." The pause was brief enough to be deniable. "And you came up from steerage?"

Not third class. Steerage.

The old-money alphas at the table did not smile.

To smile would have been to acknowledge the distinction had been made, and old money did not acknowledge the weapons it deployed.

Cherubin reached for his water without changing expression, but his eyes moved to Vox and then away, and Alastor ticked another mark in his mental ledger for the evening.

"I did." Lucifer said, like the undercut had flown right over his head. "Decent bunks. Even better coffee, as I said."

The soup arrived.

Rosie took her first spoon, and then she did something. A shudder of her shoulders that was small as it was overt. She put her spoon down. She shivered again, more emphatic, and straightened in her chair with the theatrical spine of a woman bringing the full weight of her personality to bear.

"My stars." She enunciated so the entire table heard her, and so did the table beside them. "Is that a draft? On an unsinkable ship? For what I paid for this passage, I expect the Atlantic to stay firmly out of my soup."

Her theatrics earned a murmur of polite chuckles.

Vox did not chuckle. His eyes had moved to Rosie like she had suddenly become a variable. And he had not accounted for her properly.

"It's coming from that door." She gestured, vaguely, toward a door that was not producing any measurable draft by any metric available to Alastor.

"I'm sure the stewards can—" Vox began.

"The stewards are busy." Rosie was already pulling at her gloves. "And I have sat in drafts before, in rooms considerably less luxurious than this, and I shall not repeat the experience over clear soup when the Atlantic record is apparently being chased at my expense." She turned to Lucifer. "Mr. Magne, dearie, would you switch seats? You're young, you've got warm blood in you. I've been cold enough times in my life to earn the right to complain about it now."

"Mrs. Brown." Vox's voice had shifted to the thin courtesy he used for women he wished were men. "I'm certain a steward could simply—"

"Mr. Whitman." Rosie met his eyes across the table, and the kohl made her look like something from an opera—the kind with a body count. "I am forty-four years old and I purchased my own seat about this ship. I shall sit where I please."

Boisterous working class bluntness.The type Vox would expect.

In a setting…he could not ignore. Refusing a wealthy widow in polite company—even when she was anything but polite—was utterly unacceptable.

Vox's jaw moved, as if his teeth could grind out a solution other than what he accepted.

He nodded.

Lucifer stood, picked up his water glass, and moved.

Which put him at Alastor's right. Vox at the head. Alastor to his right, as always. Lucifer directly beside him. Rosie across the table, where she had a clear view of every face.

Alastor set his spoon to his consommé like the carefully planned choreography was hardly worth paying attention to.

Beneath the tablecloth, Lucifer's knee was approximately two inches from his knee.

The soup was very clear, very good, and tasted of nothing at all.

Rest of fic on Ao3

[darcydarlingdabbles]

Im really getting sick of this. 💔

You probably remember my last update. The one about hospitals and grief and trying to keep my head above water.

Well. My dad passed away.

It wasn’t unexpected, but then it still happened all at once.

He’s been sick for a long time and I’ve done a lot of writing from shitty hospital chairs and waiting rooms…but fuck funerals are a whole other thing.

I’ve…had a lot trying to drown me it feels like. For a while I was just in survival mode.

I am still writing. That part of me isn’t gone, but it feels very wounded right now.

And honestly…tackling my big projects feels impossible. The ones with intricate arcs and emotional payoffs that deserve my full attention—I can’t give them what they need right now. And I’d rather let them rest than half-ass something you’ve invested in. You deserve my best work, and I can’t give it right now. Not the way those stories need. I hate that. I hate that I can’t just push through the way I used to.

But…forcing myself to write when I’m running on empty doesn’t produce anything worth reading. It just burns out whatever creative spark I have left. And I refuse to let that happen. I’ve lost enough this year. I’m not losing this too.

I do want to keep posting. I have some things in my notes I’m not even sure are good, but writing them gives me my spark back. And having people read what I wrote lights me up. And I really need that right now.

So I’m going to be selfish for a while, which isn’t something I’m used to doing…and I feel bad for it.

But I’m going to chase whatever makes me want to write instead of what I should be writing.

I’m sorry to everyone waiting for updates on my ongoing fics, I really am. I will finish them—I just don’t know when.

Thank you for understanding. Thank you for being patient with me. And thank you, as always, for reading.

Darcy <3

[darcydarlingdabbles]

💔 Where I’ve Been (and What Comes Next)

I honestly don’t know how long it’s been since I last posted, and I think checking would just depress me.

You already know I spend a lot of time in hospitals. Family members with chronic conditions. Endless waiting rooms. Me writing between long stretches of waiting for the waiting to be over.

Well. I’d give anything to go back to the waiting.

Several of my family members passed away this year. The grief and the stress caught up with me so hard that I ended up in the hospital myself—for the first time in my life. (I have now experienced morphine. It mostly made me feel like I was sinking through the bed and into the floor. 10/10 do not recommend.) Also, tiny veins. It took four nurses to get the IV in. Ouch.

My doctors were great. My country’s healthcare system? Not so much.

I came out of the hospital with a packet about “lifestyle changes,” a pile of follow-up appointments, and a mountain of new medical debt.

With no time or energy to get a second—or technically, fifth—job, I turned to what I already had. I filed the serial numbers off one of my popular fics, published it under a new pen name, and hoped for the best.

Let me be clear. I am a professional in the indie publishing industry. If you want to get rich quick with your writing... you should have started in 2012. That being said, I know my markets, I know my tropes, and I know how to make something that checks the boxes fast and cheap.

Still, was I surprised that it worked?

Fuck yeah, I was shocked.

The series was profitable out of the gate. And then I proceeded to burn myself out trying to keep up with the pace my desperation set.

I am both proud and not proud of it. It is not my best work. And I want to fix it—with what time?

I’m still paying off debt. Still not fully recovered to the focus and creativity I used to have. And I wrote for myself for the first time on Monday, for the first time since April.

Is this a ramble? A whine about the pitfalls of success? Or the slow moving mass casualty that is the American healthcare system?

Yes to all three.

I love to share introspection into characters and their arcs through my work. But like most real people, I’m still in the middle of mine. I don’t have a quippy, well-researched thesis or a satisfying conclusion this time.

But writing this has helped me, and I hope it helps whoever reads it.

What this means for my fanfics

Seasons of Us — At Mid Summer was in my rough drafts, and rough drafts are harder for me than planning something new. But we’re getting back to us. Even if I'm well aware it is no longer summer or close to back to school.

At Hallow’s Eve — I’d planned a big 31-day thing throughout October. Not happening. But a shorter version will, hopefully, happen the 13 days before Halloween. Hopefully.

Until the Devil’s Last Dance — Continuing as planned. It’s fully fleshed out. The lyrics in each chapter make it slower to do, but listening to the songs helps.

Falling for the Morningstars — Also continuing. It’s the longest one I have, and fam, it is hard to start climbing when you’re looking at the biggest mountain you’ve made for yourself.

And finally... I hate to say this, but I’ve come to the conclusion that I need to cancel A Harmony of Haunted Hearts.

It fucking sucks, but I can no longer do the amount of writing I used to. This is also the fic I think will do best as an original self-pub work.

In an ideal world, I’d finish the fanfic first and then write the series. But my health and debt just aren’t going to allow it.

Thank you for sticking with me. I’d appreciate any kind words. And thank you, as always, for reading.

Darcy 💖

[darcydarlingdabbles]

Random Ass Radio Apple AUs

That are just stagnating in my phone and i never posted. (Note, I was going through it and these are mostly smut XD)

If any of these interest you let me know. These are drabbles i might post on my tumblr 

Angel!Luci Human!Al

- naive Lucifer has been tasked with preventing one soul from going to hell to prove humanity is worth saving

- Alastor can’t kill the new Angel on his shoulder..but he can certainly corrupt him

Romantasy Postpartum Au

- King Lucifer the fallen and forgiven has defeated the hell kingdom and taken a war bride, omega Alastor.

- Alastor has major insecurities after giving birth to Charlie. Lucifer is still absolutely feral about him. And shows him.

King and Concubine AU

- another romantasy vibe, but Lucifer is a spoiled prince betrothed to a princess from another kingdom.

- Basically someone decides Lucifer is a selfish lover and gets an experience omega concubine, Alastor, to teach him.

- Aka bratty entitled alpha falls in love with the ‘pretty woman’ older omega

Virgin Sacrifice Au

- Virgin omega Alastor is sacrificed to a smug naga Lucifer, who loves teasing him to the edge—but refuses to fuck him.

- Until Alastor finally breaks.

- Cue knotting, tears, and “don’t pull out, I need it.” It’s soft, filthy, and humiliating in the best way

Non RadioApple AUs just sitting in my phone

Some with Lucí and Al, some other Alastor ships

Lucifer/Al/Vox

- doing stuff, on a throne, while Vox begs for even a taste.

- I don’t have a thing for humiliation until I do

Lucifer/Lilith/Alastor

- Al makes a deal to be owned by the Morningstars for ultimate power

- He did not realize what this entails

- Domme!Lilith, Top/Sub!Luci, Bottom/Sub!Alastor

- This also goes down a pregnancy/surrogacy path but can be separated

Femme Alastor/Husk

- she owns his soul, and all of him

- Short but hot one

- She touches him like she owns him. He touches her like he’s trying to forget.

- He keeps insisting it doesn’t mean anything. She never says it does. But she never stops pulling him back.

Alpha!Charlie/ Omega!Alastor

- where alpha angel Charlie and her fellow student Emily learn omega handling from Serra…using bound, bratty demon omega Alastor as their live training subject. What starts as a lesson turns into affection and the princess takes the class pet home

[darcydarlingdabbles]

Mermay Drabbles pt 3

Egglaying and after~

Merman/Octo little mermaid Radioapple AU ~ 1.5k

Omega MerKing Lucifer

Sea Witch Alpha Alastor

Breeding/egglaying

Egg Laying

The pressure had been building for days.

Lucifer felt bloated with it. Full. Stretched. His belly ached in strange rhythms—not pain, not quite. Just tension. Heavy, low, insistent. Like something inside him had decided it was time.

And it was.

He lay panting in his nest of soft moss and sea-silk, every muscle taut, tail twitching with shallow pulses of discomfort. His hole clenched at random, spasming with involuntary need. Slick dripped steadily between his legs, thick and warm, soaking the nest.

“Alastor,” he gasped, breath catching on the name. “It’s… it’s happening.”

The witch was at his side in a flash, limbs curling protectively around him, hands warm as they cupped the underside of his swollen belly.

“You’re ready?” he asked softly, eyes gleaming with excitement and reverence. “You’re really going to give them to me?”

Lucifer flushed, shame and pride warring in his chest. “Feels—wrong to want it this much.”

Alastor smiled, leaning in to press a kiss just above his navel.

“It’s not wrong,” he murmured. “It’s nature. You were meant for this, darling. Look at you. Full of my eggs. So ready to let them out.”

Lucifer moaned, low and shaky, and then yelped as the first contraction rippled through him. His tail arching high, his slit twitching.

Alastor moved immediately, stroking slick fingers over the pulsing rim of his hole.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered. “Just breathe.”

Lucifer sobbed as the first egg began to move.

It was bigger than he expected. Harder. The stretch was obscene—his body fighting to hold it, then yielding all at once. His inner walls fluttered, aching, slick gushing around the egg as it started to crown.

“Oh fuck—fuck—” he gasped, nails clawing at the moss. 

“You’re doing so well,” Alastor growled, voice thick with possessive hunger. “That’s it, push for me. Let me see you give birth to what we made.”

Lucifer cried out, back arched high, and with a final, shuddering contraction, the egg slid free—a slick, rounded shape that Alastor caught in one of his tentacles, cooing over it like a sacred object.

“One,” he said reverently, nuzzling it to Lucifer’s thigh. “One perfect little pearl. You’re amazing.”

Lucifer barely had time to breathe before the second wave hit him.

This one came faster. The egg pushed at him, his entrance already stretched and sensitive. Slick poured out in waves, muscles clenching involuntarily, unable to hold back.

“Ah—fuck, it’s—Alastor!”

Alastor’s hands were on his belly again, pressing low, gently coaxing. His tentacles cradled Lucifer’s trembling tail, keeping him open, making him feel it. Making him show it.

“Come on,” he whispered. “You can do it. Give me another. I want to watch you lay them all.”

Lucifer cried out as the second egg forced its way through—his whole body twitching, overwhelmed by the raw, wet pressure. It dropped free with a thick splash of slick, and Alastor cradled it with reverent fingers.

“That’s my good boy,” he purred, licking the tears from Lucifer’s cheeks. “My beautiful little breeder.”

Lucifer shivered. His hole was stretched open, leaking, twitching around nothing.

But the third egg wouldn’t come.

He could feel it, heavy and low, but it wasn’t moving. His body clenched weakly, too exhausted, too overstimulated, his entrance fluttering helplessly with failed effort.

“I—I can’t—” he gasped. “It’s stuck—Alastor, I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” Alastor growled, voice suddenly dark and low. “You’re mine, remember? This is what you’re for.”

Lucifer whimpered—but he arched into the touch as Alastor slid a tentacle back inside him, gentle and slow, easing past the raw, stretched rim. He moaned, nearly delirious, as another tentacle pressed down on his belly.

“We’ll get it out together,” Alastor whispered. “Let me help you.”

He began to stroke from the inside, curling against Lucifer’s inner walls with slow, coaxing pulses—pressing behind the third egg, massaging him from the front and inside at once. Lucifer sobbed, slit spread wide, entire body shaking.

“I can feel it,” Alastor breathed. “Right there. Come on, darling. Give it to me. One more. You can do it.”

Lucifer’s eyes rolled back. His entire body seized with a final, shuddering contraction—and the egg slid free in a burst of slick, heavier than the others, larger too, wet and perfect and so much.

Lucifer collapsed with a ragged sound, body limp, belly soft and trembling.

Alastor held all three eggs in his tentacles like sacred treasures, placing them gently in the moss around them, like the start of a shrine.

And then he gathered Lucifer into his arms, wrapping every limb around him, petting his skin, kissing his damp hair, cooing soft nonsense.

“You did it,” he whispered. “You gave me everything.”

Lucifer let out a wrecked, breathless laugh against his chest.

“And you’re going to want to do it again, aren’t you?” Alastor teased, already nuzzling the nape of his neck.

Lucifer didn’t answer.

But his exhausted little smile said yes.

Still not Done

Lucifer should have been resting.

His nest was perfect now—lined with softened moss, cradling the three slick, gently glowing eggs he’d laid not even a full day before. His body ached. His core was sore and twitchy, his entrance still tender, fluttering with every breath. He’d never felt so raw. So emptied. So… used.

But the worst part was—

He wanted it again.

Lucifer lay on his side, one hand over his soft belly, the other lightly stroking the nearest egg. His legs kept twitching. His cock was hard again—low and aching against the slicked edge of his thigh. And his hole—gods, his hole was still leaking, still wet and warm and clenching like it missed being full.

“You’re not even subtle anymore,” came Alastor’s voice, deep and smug from the edge of the nest. “Can’t believe I’m seeing this. My pretty little Omega, still twitching for cock when he’s dripping from laying.”

Lucifer flushed, curling in on himself a little, but not before Alastor saw the slick glistening between his thighs.

“I’m sore,” Lucifer muttered.

“Mm, I know.” Alastor was already moving closer. “That’s why I’ll go slow. Just enough to keep you stretched.”

Lucifer shuddered. “That’s worse.”

“Worse?” Alastor echoed, climbing over him now, limbs tangling around his waist. “Or better?”

Lucifer didn’t answer.

He didn’t have to.

Alastor’s hands were already on his belly—massaging the soft skin, pressing reverently against the now-empty space. His mouth trailed kisses from navel to hip, pausing just before his folds.

“You were so good,” he whispered. “Pushed them out like a perfect little broodmare. But I think your body’s confused now. Doesn’t know what to do when it’s not being bred.”

Lucifer whimpered as Alastor spread his slit. His folds were still puffy, still parted from yesterday, glistening with slick that had never really stopped flowing. His rim clenched visibly when the open air hit it.

Alastor groaned like it was the most erotic thing he’d ever seen.

“Still open,” he said reverently. “Still mine.”

He started with his tongue—slow licks that made Lucifer jerk and moan, whimpering into the moss, fists clenched. Alastor kissed him there, over and over, like a blessing.

Then one tentacle. Two. Slow, so gentle, easing in with a stretch that made Lucifer whine high in his throat.

“I know it’s tender,” Alastor crooned. “But you need this, don’t you?”

Lucifer sobbed, rocking back against the slow slide. “I shouldn’t—ah—I shouldn’t want it again—”

“But you do,” Alastor growled, suddenly pressed flush to his back, cock hard and twitching against the swell of his lower spine. “You’re a natural. A perfect little breeder. Always ready. Always open.”

He slid a tentacle  in with one long thrust—slow, deep, and so careful, but it still made Lucifer choke on a cry. His rim clenched hard around the base, sucking him in with a slick noise that made both of them groan.

“You’re still so tight,” Alastor hissed. “Even after all that. Like your body’s begging to be filled again.”

Lucifer didn’t deny it. He couldn’t.

He was already writhing, already pressing back, every sensitive nerve on fire, the ache so good it felt like a drug.

Alastor moved in a slow, grinding rhythm, hips pressed flush, tentacles wrapped low around Lucifer’s tail to keep him wide open. He reached around to stroke Lucifer’s cock at the same pace—long, lazy pumps, dragging every sound out of him.

“You want to carry again, don’t you?” Alastor purred. “Already empty. Already wanting. Should knot you again right now—push my magic deep, make sure there’s no room left for doubt.”

Lucifer’s voice broke on a moan. “Please—please, Alastor—”

That was all it took.

Alastor’s knot swelled hard against his rim, stretching him wide, popping in slow and thick and perfect. Lucifer shivered through his orgasm, spilling across the moss in thick ribbons while Alastor filled him again—thrusts shallow but relentless, cock pulsing deep as warmth flooded back into him.

He collapsed into the nest, panting, trembling, pinned and filled and tamed.

Alastor curled around him, every limb possessive.

“You’re going to give me so many more,” he whispered against Lucifer’s throat. “And I’ll be here every time. Watching. Holding. Helping. Making sure you never forget who you belong to.”

Lucifer didn’t say a word.

He just reached back, grabbed Alastor’s hand, and held it over the curve of his belly.

Just in case.

[darcydarlingdabbles]

Mermay Drabbles pt 2

Breeding, brooding, and nesting

Merman/Octo little mermaid Radioapple AU ~ 2k

Omega MerKing Lucifer

Sea Witch Alpha Alastor

Dub!Con ish, CNC, Mating/Breeding, eventual egg laying.

Mating Limb

Lucifer hated how easy it was now—how quickly his body melted under Alastor’s hands, how fast he opened up the moment those damn tentacles found his hips.

He was already floating boneless in their usual cove, gills fluttering, flushed from head to fin as Alastor rolled his slick tail between two limbs like a ribbon. His cock was out, dripping into the water, and the sea witch hadn’t even touched him there yet.

“Still acting like you’re not into this,” Alastor teased, nuzzling behind his ear. “Even though you swam here on your own. Again.”

Lucifer scoffed but didn’t deny it.

Alastor's tentacles curled around him, cradling and holding and petting until Lucifer was squirming in his grip, biting back whines. He hated how easily he got like this now. Loose. Desperate. Slick.

“You get wetter every time,” Alastor purred. “You gonna tell me what that’s about? Or do I gotta keep coaxing you open to find out?”

Lucifer turned his face away. “Just get on with it.”

Alastor grinned.

And he did. Tentacles slid inside him, slow at first—like they always did—gentle, slick, practiced. Lucifer gasped, shivered, gave a little roll of his hips he pretended he didn’t mean. He was already pulsing around them, already aching. Alastor pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, cock nudging against his entrance, warm and heavy and familiar.

Lucifer moaned when he pushed in. Slow. Deep. Stretching him wide.

But something was… different.

Lucifer blinked. There was a second pressure. Another limb—not a tentacle, not Alastor’s cock. This one was thinner. Warmer. Smoother. And it was probing deeper.

“Wait,” he gasped. “What is that—what are you—”

“Shh,” Alastor said softly, mouth against his gills. “You can take it.”

Lucifer’s entire body locked up. “That’s your mating limb!”

Alastor didn’t deny it.

He just rocked deeper, knot pressing right at Lucifer’s rim, and that new, slender limb slid inside with it, curling past where the cock reached—tapping against something that made Lucifer see stars.

“You bastard,” Lucifer gasped, voice breaking. “You didn’t tell me—!”

“You didn’t ask,” Alastor whispered, kissing down his spine. 

Lucifer groaned, tail thrashing once—more out of instinct than resistance. His body was already sucking the limb deeper, milking it. His slick had tripled. His cock was leaking nonstop.

“You’re going to breed me,” he hissed. “You planned this.”

Alastor chuckled, voice low and rough. “No planning. Just a little instinct. You’re the one who keeps coming back to me soaked through. You’re the one who moans like this—”

He thrust his hips forward, knot catching, mating limb wriggling deeper, and Lucifer cried out—high, desperate, needy.

“—like you want me to fill you again.”

Lucifer snarled something wordless, but his hips were pushing back now. He was shaking. Shivering. Needing.

“This is low,” he muttered, breathless. “Even for you.”

“You’re clenching,” Alastor said sweetly. “You’re so ready for it. Want me to give it to you? Let my magic soak into you? Let your body hold on to it?”

Lucifer shuddered.

He should’ve pushed him off. Should’ve demanded he pull out.

But instead, he nodded. Just barely. A shamed, broken little thing. “Do it.”

Alastor growled.

His knot popped inside a heartbeat later, locking them together as he spilled deep, cock throbbing, mating limb twitching once, twice, and then shooting a flood of hot, thick magic into Lucifer’s womb.

Lucifer was left shaking, sobbing, still trying to pretend like he didn’t love it.

“You’re mine now,” Alastor murmured, wrapping him tight in every limb. “You know that, right? Keep letting me in like this, and you’ll be carrying again.”

Lucifer didn’t answer.

He just curled tighter into the hold, body still twitching with aftershocks, throat raw from how hard he’d bitten back his begging.

And next time?

He wouldn’t bother pretending he didn’t want it.

Nesting Broodmare

Lucifer should have left.

The transformation spell had long since been completed. He had his legs when he wanted them. He could walk on land, be with his daughter,, resume his duties. But instead?

He was still here.

Curled into the softest corner of Alastor’s cave, surrounded by moss and sand and bits of sea-silk he'd instinctively pulled together, even if he insisted he hadn’t meant to. His nesting instincts were out of control. He hated it. Hated how safe it felt. How right.

But not as much as he hated how full he felt.

His belly was taut and round, a little higher with each passing week. And he ached. His hole was sensitive, always slick, always fluttering like it was still waiting to be bred.

He shifted with a frustrated little growl, trying to rub himself against the soft sand. It didn’t help. His cock was already hard, pressed up against his swollen belly, and his folds were soaked with slick that clung to his flesh. He buried his face in the moss and bit back a whimper.

Alastor’s voice coiled around him like silk.

“Aww, what’s this? My pretty little Omega playing in his nest again?”

Lucifer hissed without lifting his head. “Don’t.”

“Oh, I think I will.”

Alastor was beside him in a second, all smooth muscle and flexing limbs. Tentacles slid around Lucifer’s thighs, his waist, his belly—everywhere—stroking, squeezing, worshipping.

“You’ve gotten bigger,” Alastor said with a grin, nuzzling against the bump. “Glowing. Full of me. You look like a proper little broodmare now.”

Lucifer flushed all the way to his gills. “I am not—”

“You’re nesting, my dear,” Alastor purred. “You’re making a bed for my clutch. You’re dripping all over the sand, squirming like you need to be bred again just to settle down. You’re mine.”

Lucifer moaned before he could stop it. One of the tentacles had slipped down to his slick entrance, gently circling the rim. He twitched beneath it, fins spreading without permission.

“I thought I bred you good last time,” Alastor murmured. “But maybe you’re not satisfied unless you’re stuffed full.”

Lucifer growled, but it came out weak and needy. “I’m already carrying—”

“And still needy,” Alastor cut in, voice roughening. “Still dripping. Still aching. You want more, don’t you? Want me to stretch you wide again, knot you while you’re already heavy with my clutch?”

Lucifer whimpered, back arching as Alastor pushed two slick tentacles into him—slow, indulgent, careful with his now overly sensitive body.

“I can feel how soft you are,” Alastor whispered. “How wet. Your body wants it. You were made for this, you know? Not some glittering throne. Not royal balls or formal bindings. This. Being here. Round. Full. Bred.”

Lucifer gasped as a third tentacle slid in, twisting deep and slow. His belly rippled with pleasure, the pressure against his womb hitting just right. His cock throbbed, untouched, and another tentacle coiled around it with lazy strokes.

“You’ll lay them here,” Alastor went on, like he was narrating a dream. “Tucked into this soft little nest you made. Safe. Warm. Slick sliding down your tail while I watch you moan and push every one of them out for me.”

Lucifer sobbed, burying his face in the moss, hips rolling hard into the tentacles now pistoning inside him. “You’re awful,” he gasped. “Disgusting—”

“But you’re so happy,” Alastor growled. “You love it. Being nothing but a breeding hole for a sea witch. You were royalty, and now you’re just my incubator.”

Lucifer came with a shattered sound—tail trembling, belly twitching, slick and come splashing beneath him in thick pulses.

Alastor didn’t stop.

He pressed deeper, letting his mating limb slide in with slow, possessive force—his cock following after, hard and flushed, knot already swelling.

Lucifer tried to protest, but it came out as a whine. A beg.

“You want more?” Alastor murmured. “I’ll give you more.”

And then he did.

He fucked him slow, grinding deep while his knot stretched Lucifer’s rim again and again..

Lucifer sobbed, melted, clung to the moss, and took it.

Because he couldn’t stop.

Not when it felt this good to be ruined.

Not when every thrust told him he was home.

Not just an Incubator

Lucifer floated half-curled in his nest, the moss and sea-silks swaying gently with the water. His hands rested over the swell of his stomach—too round now to hide beneath his arms. He stared down at it, silent, gills fluttering in slow, uneasy rhythm.

He was bigger than he expected. Carried lower, too, like his body knew these weren’t mer-young.

Back home—back there—an Omega in his condition would be treated like delicate property. Mated Omegas weren’t to be touched during gestation. The rituals were clear: hands off, head bowed, lips sealed. No sex. No pleasure. Just waiting. Incubating.

The idea was that carrying life made them holy.

But it had always made Lucifer feel invisible.

Just a vessel. A breeding success.

He rubbed slow circles around his navel, then stopped—ashamed at how much he missed being touched.

And then he was.

Alastor appeared behind him like he always did—unannounced, smug, ever-present. A brush of a tentacle along his hip. A warm nuzzle to the side of his throat. A hum vibrating softly through the water.

“Still brooding in your moss pile?” Alastor teased, his voice light but gentle. “I think you like pretending you hate it here.”

Lucifer didn’t answer.

One of Alastor’s hands slid around to his front—broad palm resting low beneath his belly, supporting him, holding him. The tentacles followed, curling around his tail and, his wrists, slow and grounding. Reverent.

Lucifer trembled. “Don’t.”

“Why not?” Alastor asked, brushing a kiss to his shoulder. “You’re so soft like this. So pretty. You glow, darling.”

“I’m fat,” Lucifer said bitterly. “Swollen. Full of your spawn. You already bred me. You got what you wanted.”

Alastor stilled for half a breath. Then, slowly, he pulled Lucifer down onto the softest part of the nest.

“I want this,” he murmured. “Every version of you.”

Lucifer gasped as the tentacles lifted his belly just enough to ease the strain on his back. Alastor trailed kisses down his chest, his navel, his lower abdomen—pausing where the swell was most taut. He whispered something too soft to catch and pressed his forehead against it.

Then his mouth moved lower.

Lucifer flinched. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” Alastor said simply. “Let me worship my favorite incubator.”

Lucifer hissed—half mortified, half turned on—but his tail relaxed anyway. His folds were swollen, glistening, sensitive from weeks of tension. Alastor parted them with slow, practiced grace, using his tentacles to stroke and open, to soothe and tease.

And then his mouth was on him.

Lucifer’s back arched off the moss, a cry torn from his throat. Alastor licked into him with obscene reverence, tongue curling in long, deliberate strokes that had nothing to do with dominance and everything to do with devotion.

No one had ever eaten him like this. Not even before his first pregnancy. Certainly not any Alpha from court. They had never even touched him once he started to show.

But Alastor—

Alastor lapped at him like he was starving. Like this was what he craved most in the world. He sucked gently at the slick pooling between his folds, tongue fucking him slow and deep, the tip grazing all the right places. Tentacles held him wide open, rubbed circles into his lower body, wrapped loosely around his belly in a cradle of motion and safety.

Lucifer was already sobbing, trembling, cock twitching untouched against the curve of his belly.

“You taste sweeter now,” Alastor murmured between licks. “Your body’s working so hard, isn’t it? I should be taking care of you like this every day.”

Lucifer choked on a moan. “You can’t—ah—keep saying things like that.”

“Why not?” Alastor hummed, licking up a fresh wave of slick. “You’re mine. Full of my eggs. Nesting in my cave. You think I’m not going to cherish what’s mine?”

Lucifer came with a broken sound, entire body tightening in Alastor’s arms. Slick flooded the water around them, his cock twitching helplessly.

Alastor kept licking through the aftershocks—soft now, soothing, as if his tongue could convince Lucifer he was wanted.

Not just an incubator.

Not just a vessel.

But his.

[darcydarlingdabbles]

Mermay Drabbles pt 1

So yeah I write to relieve stress. During my hiatus, I was super fucking stressed, so all I really managed was a few...very raw...very different for me drabbles. Very diff from my usual polish, diff kinks and such. You've been warned XD

Merman/Octo little mermaid Radioapple AU ~ 1.2k

Omega MerKing Lucifer

Sea Witch Alpha Alastor

Dub!Con ish, CNC, Mating/Breeding, eventual egg laying.

Curiosity at First

Lucifer didn’t flinch as the sea witch circled him.

 But his gills flared and his tail twitched like it wanted to bolt.

The cavern walls pulsed dimly with some kind of magic biolight, glinting off the pearlescent fin of the Merman King.. 

He hovered, back straight and gills flared in warning, arms crossed over his chest like armor.

“I said I’d pay your price,” Lucifer snapped. “But this wasn’t what we agreed.”

Alastor grinned wide, voice too amused for how close he already was. “Oh, but it is, sugarfish. Equal value, remember? Magic for magic. Body for body. You want to be human? Then I want to see what makes a king squirm.”

Lucifer should’ve turned and swum out.

 Should’ve told him to shove it. But he didn’t move. Couldn’t, maybe.

 Not with the way Alastor’s tentacles had already wrapped around his lower half like a slow-moving trap. Like he was already caught.

That was the worst part—he didn’t want to be let go.

Not when Alastor’s tentacles had already wrapped around his tail like velvet rope, not when the witch’s touch was slow and exploratory, the suction cups dragging reverently across his scales. 

It was nothing like the clinical, ceremonial sex of the royal court. 

This was indulgent.

An arm slid beneath him, right under the sensitive ridge of his pelvis, and Lucifer bit down on the inside of his cheek.

“You’ve got secrets tucked in there, don’t you?” Alastor purred, voice low, lazy. “I can smell your slick already. Such a needy little Omega, already dripping for me?”

Lucifer flushed, jaw clenched.

“You will not speak to me like—ah—!”But his protest cracked into a hiss when the tentacle pressed up, slow and thick and rubbing.

The king’s cheeks burned crimson. 

Lucifer arched before he could stop himself, his breath stuttering. The sensation was foreign—gentle, gliding, curious.

It wasn’t like anything he was used to. 

It wasn’t demanding like the rutting of other Alphas. 

The Alphas from court didn’t touch like this. They didn’t explore. They weren’t interested in what made the omega feel good. 

“You’re shaking,” Alastor whispered. “Is that fear? Or are you just this eager?”

Another tentacle curled around his wrist, tugging his hand away from his lap, exposing the parted scales of his slit—already flushed and slick and unmistakably wet. 

He should’ve been humiliated. 

He was.

“Look at you,” Alastor crooned. “Opening up for me like a good little bearer.”

Lucifer snarled and whipped his tail—but Alastor just laughed, caught it with two limbs, and spun him in the water like it was nothing. Then he was pressed down against the sea floor, gills fluttering, hair floating around him like a halo. 

 The sand was warm beneath him, glowing faintly. Magic? Biolight? 

He didn’t care.

Because the alpha octo was baring down on him. 

 Lucifer’s chest heaved, water filtering through his gills in rapid, shallow bursts as the sea witch descended upon him. 

“Such a pretty picture you make,” Alastor murmured, his voice like dark honey in the water. “The mighty king, pinned and panting.”

Two tentacles coiled around Lucifer’s wrists, dragging them above his head and anchoring them to the seafloor. Another pair wrapped around his tail fins.

 The king thrashed once, twice, a token resistance that fooled neither of them.

“I don’t beg,” Lucifer hissed, even as his body betrayed him, his scales shifting, parting further at his slit.

Alastor’s smile widened, showing rows of needle-sharp teeth. “Not yet.”

Two more tentacles, slimmer and more dexterous than the others, slid along his pearly scales like ink drenching parchment.

 They circled his opening with maddening patience, tracing the sensitive edges where flesh met scale. 

One tendril pressed against his slit, not entering, just applying the barest pressure before retreating.

“Let me go—”

“Nope.” Alastor leaned down, lips brushing his ear. “Not until you admit you’re enjoying yourself.”

Lucifer hissed, but the moan he bit back betrayed him.

His tail twitched, but it was already too late. 

One of Alastor’s limbs dragged along his pelvis, slow and wet, rubbing over the entrance, already beginning to pulse open.

 A second followed, pressing against his rim, and then slid in with a slick twist.

Lucifer gasped, eyes wide.

“You’re tight,” Alastor murmured, voice gone low. “Tighter than I expected. So unused to being touched, aren’t you?”

“I have a child.” 

“Mm, yes, delightful little daughter of yours.” Alastor cooed, as the omega realized that Charlie was the last thing he wanted to talk about right now. “Just shows you’ve been bred, but you haven’t really been touched.”

Lucifer didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

The second tentacle curled inside him, twisting gently, like it had all the time in the world. 

Alastor explored him like he was mapping a star chart—every press purposeful, every twitch drawing out a gasped, traitorous pleas from the royal Omega’s lips.

Alastor’s laugh was low and pleased. “Look at that. All that royal dignity gone the second someone touches you like they mean it.”

Another joined. This one thicker. Ridged.

Lucifer whimpered

He tried to fight it—tried to hold himself still—but his cock was already pushing free, hard and leaking into the water.

Lucifer came fast—too fast. 

Shame flushed through him as slick gushed around Alastor’s limbs, his whole body trembling from the force of it.

 His hole pulsed open around the tentacles still inside him, clenching down and then fluttering.

“Oh, my.” Came that teasing, terrible voice from the witch. 

Lucifer couldn’t speak. He was panting, eyes wet, face hidden in the sand.

“Still want to pretend you’re not enjoying this?” Alastor nuzzled his throat, one tentacle stroking his cock now—firm and unrelenting.

Alastor’s voice was softer now. “You want my magic? Say it. Say you want me.”

He barely registered the shift—how Alastor’s body pressed down over him, how something thicker and warmer nudge against the root of his tail

“Fuck me,” he growled. “You wanted me? Then take me.”

The witch purred.

And then he was pushing in—cock thick and hot and veined, pressing into Lucifer with slow, deliberate force. Lucifer cried out, whole body locking up, then unraveling all over again. The stretch was obscene. And Alastor wasn’t even knotting him yet.

“You feel incredible,” Alastor grunted, hips snapping forward now, driving into him harder. “You were made for this, weren’t you?”

Lucifer didn’t answer. Couldn’t. He was clinging to the sea floor, tail twitching with every thrust, his cock leaking helplessly beneath him. Alastor fucked him open with steady, deep strokes, tentacles wrapping around his torso, his waist, his wrists—holding him still, making him take it.

And then the knot hit.

Lucifer screamed—loud and raw—when the bulb pressed against his rim, stretching him wider than he’d ever felt. It popped inside with a jolt, locking them together, and then Alastor was coming, knot pulsing thick and fast with warmth and something magical and too much.

Lucifer collapsed. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t move.

Alastor wrapped around him like a nest, curling close, humming something tuneless near his ear.

“You’ll make a gorgeous human,” he murmured. “But I think I’ll keep you like this a little longer.”

Lucifer didn’t answer.

Just buried his face in the warmth of the sand, knotted and full, still panting like he’d been hunted down.

Because he had been.

And he’d let it happen.

[darcydarlingdabbles]

🎙️✨ Until the Devil’s Last Dance ✨🎙️  Part 26 

🍒 On Ao3☕Read on Ream☕On Tumblr 🍒

Fever by Peggy Lee

🎙️Passion has a way of consuming everything it touches. When the fever takes hold, all that’s left is heat, need, and the undeniable pull of instinct. But beware, my dear listeners—fevers break, and when they do, what’s left may not be what you expect.🎙️

Notes:

Holy guacamole it's the heat chapter. It's a fucking long one (heh) CW for heat associated things I need a nap.

🎵Never know how much I love you

Never know how much I care🎵

The scent hit Lucifer like a crashing wave the moment he entered the bedroom.

Sweet, intoxicating, with an undercurrent of something primal that made his alpha instincts flare to life. His eyes found Alastor immediately, the slender omega methodically sorting laundry as he leaned over their bed, seemingly oblivious to the effect he was having.

Lucifer's nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply.

There was no mistaking it now—Alastor's scent had changed, become fuller and more alluring. His mate was nearing his heat, whether or not he wanted to admit it. 

"You smell absolutely amazing today," Lucifer purred, approaching the bed with measured steps. He watched Alastor's hands falter for just a moment before resuming their task.

Alastor gave a light chuckle, not looking up from the clothes. "You always say that, you incorrigible flatterer."

"Sure I do," Lucifer conceded with a smile, "But today it's really true. You smell so…irresistible."

"Is that a hint, my dear? I'm afraid I'm rather occupied at the moment." He gestured to the piles of laundry surrounding him.

"Not a hint," Lucifer assured him, “just an observation.”

Now Alastor did look up, one eyebrow arched in amusement. “Subtlety is not your strong suit, darling.” the brunette rolled his eyes fondly, but Lucifer caught the slight quickening of his breath, the faint flush creeping up into his cheeks.

Yes, his omega was definitely affected, but was Alastor oblivious to the changes happening in his body, or was he in denial? Either way, the alpha knew he needed to tread carefully.

Alastor was fiercely independent. The idea of losing control during a heat must be terrifying him, though he'd never admit it.

Lucifer weighed his options. 

 As he watched Alastor resume his sorting with slightly trembling hands, Lucifer knew which one was not an option.

Alastor paused, a half-folded shirt in his hands. "We did 'mess around' this morning, darling. Quite thoroughly, if I recall correctly." A hint of smugness colored his tone.

Lucifer chuckled, running a hand through his golden hair. "We did. And the night before. And yesterday afternoon…"

"Are you complaining?" Alastor's voice held a note of challenge.

"You know I never would," Lucifer said softly. "Just noticing that you’ve been…pretty amorous lately."

Alastor shrugged, turning his attention back to the wash. "I hadn't noticed." 

But Lucifer caught the way his fingers lingered over the alpha's clothes, how he seemed to inhale just a bit deeper as he folded them.

 “Though I am noticing your vocabulary has suddenly expanded. What are you up to?”

“Nothing!” Lucifer said, darting around Alastor’s back to his other side.

Unable to resist any longer, Lucifer hopped up onto the bed, earning a brief glare from Alastor. 

"Careful, you'll wrinkle everything."

"Al," Lucifer said gently, "You've been acting different."

The omega stiffened. "How so?"

Lucifer chose his words carefully, especially after that blow up they had around this subject. "Well, you've been a bit…moody." Seeing Alastor's eyes narrow dangerously, he quickly added, "And I've noticed you've been eating more."

"Are you commenting on my weight now?" 

"No! No, of course not," Lucifer backpedaled. “You know I’d be crazy about you no matter what you looked like.” his gaze drifting to the piles of laundry. 

He'd have to find another approach. Alastor was far too clever to be led gently into this realization—he'd have to come to it on his own. Lucifer's eyes darted back to Alastor, who was now vigorously sorting socks.

 "Well, what are you doing right now?" he asked, feigning curiosity.

Alastor paused, his shoulders tensing slightly. "The washing," he replied, a defensive edge creeping into his voice. "Obviously."

"Yep, sorting dirty laundry on the bed," Lucifer mused, tapping his chin. "You know, it could seem like you're…nesting."

The omega's hands froze mid-fold as he whirled to face Lucifer."I am most certainly not nesting. That's preposterous," he sputtered, noticeably flustered. 

Lucifer raised an eyebrow, waiting.

“Oh, will you stop dancing around this?” Alastor's composure cracked further. "I couldn't possibly be nearing my heat. It's autumn, for heaven's sake—and male omegas don’t have consistent heats, anyway."

"Okie dokie then," Lucifer said lightly, hopping off the bed. He stretched languidly, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "I see we're going to be stubborn about this whole heat thing."

"I am not being stubborn. I'm being rational." Alastor bristled.

Lucifer hummed noncommittally, sauntering around the bed. He paused behind Alastor, who had returned to his furious sock-sorting vigorously. 

🎶When you put your arms around me

I get a fever that’s so hard to bear🎵

The sound of Lucifer's hand connecting with Alastor's ass echoed through their bedroom. It wasn’t to hurt his mate, other than his delicate pride and sense of dignity. 

The omega's back went ramrod straight, a low snarl building in his throat.

"I beg your finest your pardon!" Alastor snapped, whirling to face his alpha. His eyes flashed dangerously, a mix of indignation and…something else.

"Sorry, sweetheart," Lucifer muttered, his apology dripping with insincerity. "But I need to prove a point."

Before Alastor could retort, Lucifer's hands gripped the omega's hips with startling force. He turned the taller man around, and he bent Alastor over the bed, planting a strong hand on the small of his back. Pinning him down. 

"Lucifer!" Alastor snarled, clawing at the bedspread. "What the hell are you—" His words cut off abruptly, replaced by a soft, surprised "Oh."

🎵You give me fever🎵

Lucifer's nostrils flared, drinking in the sudden spike of arousal from his mate. He could practically taste it on his tongue—sweet, exciting, and unmistakably Alastor.

But, that wasn’t the only scent he was getting.He could practically see it radiating from his omega’s bowed back. He was humiliated. And Lucifer could guess that it was coming from his omega’s very large and somewhat delicate ego. 

See, this alpha never had to be told not to smack his mate on the ass, because Lucifer had no doubt that Alastor would be indignant. 

So, the fact that he was getting slick from that and being pinned down to the bed by Lucifer’s hips without warning—no doubt Alastor felt like his body was betraying him. 

“Al, it’s okay.” Lucifer stepped back, and his keen ears catching a stifled whimper from his mate. The alpha ran a soothing hand down Alastor's spine. "You've just been a bit of a hair trigger recently, sweetheart," he murmured.

Alastor huffed, turning his head away to hide his reddish cheeks. "Now you’re complaining about how…eager I’ve been?" he asked, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his voice.

"No, of course not," Lucifer assured him quickly. “You know I’m just looking out for you, right?”

“I…know.” Alastor remained bent over the bed, resting on his elbows. His fingers curled into the bedspread, though he wouldn’t meet the blonde’s eyes. 

The silence stretched, thick with unspoken tension.

"Alastor?" Lucifer's voice was soft, questioning.

"So you're not going to…well that is mortifying." The omega trailed off, swallowing hard. He ducked his head to the pile of clothes he was bent. "Well, you may have just proved your point."

“Sweetheart.” The alpha leaned over him, his chest a warm presence against Alastor's back. But instead of trying to take things further, Lucifer's voice was gentle but firm. "You’re just going into preheat…and you need to start taking your pills."

He felt Alastor shiver and stiffen like he’d been dosed with a bucket of cold water.

 The omega straightened up, though reluctance made his movements sluggish. As he settled on the edge of the bed, Lucifer pressed the birth control pill pack into his hand.

Alastor stared at the small foil package, unable to look at his alpha. His fingers trembled slightly as he traced the outline of the pills. 

"I can feel my head getting foggy already," he admitted softly, shame coloring his words.

"That happens," Lucifer assured him, his hand a comforting weight on Alastor's shoulder. "And it's okay."

Alastor winced, a new worry dawning on him. "If I'm like this before my heat even starts…" He couldn't finish the thought, fear gripping his chest at the loss of control that loomed on the horizon.

Lucifer's hand moved from Alastor's shoulder to cup his face, gently tilting it up. Their eyes met, and Alastor felt his breath catch at the intensity of Lucifer's gaze.

"I've got you," Lucifer said, his voice low and steady. "I'll take care of you, make sure your wishes are respected."

A shiver ran down Alastor's spine.

In that moment, the full weight of what was happening crashed over him. He was about to be at his most vulnerable, his most primitive. His future, his body, everything would be in Lucifer's hands.

"I've never…" he started, then paused, gathering his courage. "I've never trusted anyone to be near me during my heat."

Lucifer's thumb stroked Alastor's cheek softly. "I know," he said, his tone subdued with understanding.

Alastor looked into Lucifer's eyes. He saw nothing but warmth and determination. 

"You can trust me, Alastor." Lucifer promised

For a moment, Alastor teetered on the edge of the decision. Then, slowly, a hint of a smile tugged at his lips. "I know I can trust you," he whispered.

With a deep breath, Alastor popped the first pill from its foil casing and swallowed it down. 

Alastor's arms snaked around Lucifer's shoulders, pulling him close. Their lips met in a tender kiss that sent calmness coursing through Alastor's body. 

As they parted, Alastor bit his lower lip, a bashful expression crossing his face.

"So," he began, his voice low and slightly suggestive, "can we still…mess around?" The question hung in the air, loaded with desire and a hint of uncertainty.

Lucifer chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest. "I‘m sorry, sweetheart. We can't risk it until those pills take effect." He stroked Alastor's cheek. “But there are plenty of other things we can do.”

Alastor's face fell slightly, a pout forming on his lips. He was surprised by the intensity of his disappointment. "Oh," he said, letting out a bitter laugh. "I can't believe I'm actually upset about not being knotted. I've never felt so…so…"

"Petulant? Demanding?" Lucifer supplied, a teasing glint in his eye.

Alastor nodded and huffed. Was this what his heat would reduce him to? A needy, whining mess?

Sensing his discomfort, Lucifer pulled him closer. "Hey, it's alright. I can handle you at your worst, you know."

Alastor looked up at him, really looked at him. 

The weight of Lucifer's words, the unwavering look in his golden eyes—it was almost too much to bear. But his, oblivious to the intensity of the moment, simply wrapped his arms around Alastor.

"I can't wait to see how ornery you get during your heat," Lucifer said with a grin, squeezing Alastor playfully.

Alastor nestled into the embrace, his mind whirling. He'd never allowed anyone to see him like this before, never mind during a full heat.

 The thought was terrifying, exhilarating, and somehow comforting all at once. As he breathed in Lucifer's scent, Alastor realized that for the first time in his life, he was glad he wasn’t alone.

♫ ♫ ♫ 

A searing heat pulled Lucifer from the depths of sleep. His eyes snapped open, adjusting to the darkness as an overwhelmingly syrupy scent assaulted his senses. 

Alastor's scent, but amplified tenfold.

🎵 Sun lights up the daytime

Moon lights up the night🎵

 As alertness fully returned to him, Lucifer became acutely aware of a warm, wet sensation between his legs.

"Al?" he mumbled, voice thick with sleep. "What are you—"

His question was cut short by a muffled whimper.

Lucifer propped himself up on his elbows, looking down to see Alastor nestled between his thighs, shamelessly mouthing at his rapidly hardening cock.

"Fuck, Alastor," Lucifer groaned, because that was one of the fucking hottest things he’d ever seen in his life—still, he was expecting one of Alastor's usual quips. Instead, he was met with a desperate whine.

"Alpha," Alastor breathed, his voice raw with need. "Please."

He'd never heard Alastor beg so shamelessly. It worried him–as much as the blood rushed from his brain and right to his cock.

"What do you need, sweetheart?" Lucifer asked gently, reaching down to stroke Alastor's hair.

Alastor looked up at him, eyes glassy with lust. When he spoke again, his carefully cultivated transatlantic accent had vanished, replaced by a thick New Orleans drawl. 

"Your knot. Please."

As his mate's heat consumed him, Alastor's entire demeanor shifted. The brash and confident omega he knew was now replaced by a creature of primal urges and raw desire.

"Do you want this?" Lucifer asked gently, because he needed to know. Just one more time. Even as his mate was panting softly against his skin.

Alastor let out an uncontrolled whimper and buried his face against Lucifer's thigh, inhaling deeply. The potent scent of an aroused omega filled the air, making Lucifer feel dizzy again.

🎶I light up when you call my name

And you know I’m gonna treat you right🎵

“Lucifer…please.”

"Okay," he murmured, just reaching out to touch the omega’s shoulder.

Lucifer didn’t even have to nudge—without hesitation, Alastor rolled onto his back, eagerly spreading his legs for his alpha, revealing the slick that coated his thighs and took Lucifer's breath away.

"Fuck," Lucifer groaned, taking in the sight before him.

Gone was Alastor's usual coy smirk, replaced by parted lips and half-lidded eyes as he panted heavily with need.

Lucifer lowered himself between Alastor's thighs, inhaling deeply. "You smell divine," he murmured, before dipping his head to taste.

The first swipe of his tongue had Alastor keening back, arching off the bed. Lucifer savored the sweet omega slick, lapping eagerly as Alastor writhed beneath him.

Lucifer's tongue delved deeper, savoring the tantalizing sweetness of Alastor's heat-slick. It was like liquid honey had been stirred into his black coffee taste, coating his tongue and flooding his senses. He lapped eagerly at his omega’s pussy, reveling in the way his omega's thighs trembled against his shoulders.

Alastor's fingers tangled in Lucifer's golden hair, pulling him closer with a desperation the alpha had never felt from him before.

Soft, needy whimpers escaped Alastor's lips, a stark contrast to his usual controlled manner.

Lucifer redoubled his efforts, employing every trick he knew Alastor loved. He traced intricate patterns with the tip of his tongue, alternating between broad strokes and focused attention on his mate’s clit.

He sucked harder. Feeling the way the omega’s entrance clenched desperately around nothing.

But, something was off.

Not to brag or anything, but Lucifer knew his mate well—and he was very, very good with his mouth and his tongue.

By now he’d have Alastor writhing. Teetering on the edge of coming, his inner walls fluttering and clenching. And making it all the easier for Lucifer to get him off again when he was inside him.

But now, despite Alastor's obvious arousal, he seemed unable to reach his peak.

Lucifer paused, lifting his head slightly. "You okay, sweetheart?" he asked, voice husky with desire.

Alastor whined, hips bucking up desperately. "Don't stop," he pleaded, accent thick and saccharine. "Please, alpha, more."

Frowning slightly, Lucifer resumed the eager work of his tongue. He slipped two fingers inside Alastor's slick entrance, curling them to stroke that spot that usually had Alastor seeing stars.

The omega cried out, back arching beautifully again , but still he didn't come.

Lucifer's pride took a hit. He delighted in this particular skill, on knowing exactly how to take Alastor apart with just his mouth.

He knew Alastor could be bratty when teased, that he often retaliated by deliberately withholding his pleasure just to drive Lucifer crazy.

But this was different. There was no playful glint in Alastor's eyes, no smug smirk tugging at his lips.

Just raw, desperate need.

Alastor's heat had progressed further than he'd thought. His omega wasn't being stubborn or playing games—he physically couldn't come without a knot.

The realization sent a wave of possessive desire through Lucifer. His omega needed him, needed his knot, in a way he never had before. With a low growl, Lucifer surged up Alastor's body, capturing his lips in a searing kiss.

"I've got you, sweetheart," he murmured against Alastor

"Alpha," Alastor begged, his accent heavier than ever. “Need, please.”

Lucifer looked up, meeting Alastor's desperate gaze. "Tell me."

"Knot," Alastor whimpered. "Please, cher."

With a growl, Lucifer surged forward, positioning himself at Alastor's entrance. The omega’s legs spread wide and willing as the alpha sank in with one smooth thrust.

Alastor cried out in pleasure, hands fisting in the bedsheets. "Yes, yes, like that," he babbled, all trace of his usual composure gone.

Lucifer set a punishing pace, driven by Alastor's breathless pleas and the intoxicating scent of omega in heat.

His movements were rough, but each thrust elicited a muffled moan from Alastor.

Lucifer growled at the sight of his mate covering his mouth against the sounds escaping between his fingers. Alastor hadn’t held back like that since their first nights together.

“Don’t you hide your sounds from me,” Lucifer snapped. His voice was rough, harsh, clumsy—but his omega obeyed at once.

Alastor dropped his hands back to the bed, whining as he fought to keep his eyes open against the rough snap of hips.

The immediate surrender went straight to the alpha’s cock, already tingling at his knot.

“Alastor…” The alpha’s thrusts turned shallow, as he had to test this new side of his mate.

The moment he slipped free of his omega’s warmth, the brunette let out a pitiful wail.

“Spread yourself for me.” Lucifer growled.

“Yes, alpha.”

Alastor nodded, and his hands gripped behind his knees, pulling himself open, shamelessly baring his pussy as his long legs curled against his chest

Lucifer had never seen his proud omega turned to putty in his hands—eager to please and desperate for his knot. The alpha sank his cock back into his mate, moving onto his knees to deepen every thrust.

And Alastor’s whining only hushed when he was being fucked full.

As Lucifer's knot began to swell, he could feel Alastor's walls tightening around him, begging for release. He pressed in deeper, grinding against Alastor's sweet spot.

"That's it, baby," he crooned, one hand reaching down to grasp Alastor's slicked hair as the other held onto his thigh for leverage. "Take my knot. You're doing so well."

Alastor let out a high-pitched whine of pleasure and surrender, fully at the mercy of Lucifer during his heat. Like that was exactly where he wanted to be.

🎶You give me fever🎶

As they locked together, Lucifer marveled at the absolutely pliant omega beneath him.

This was when Alastor would take control, using his leverage to push his alpha onto his back, riding out the aftershocks for them both. But now, Alastor lay pliant beneath him, accepting each rock of Lucifer’s hips with only a soft moan.

Only when Alastor's eyes began to droop did Lucifer carefully maneuver them onto their sides. He stroked the darkened hair, watching as the omega drifted off to sleep, finally sated.

Lucifer was left reeling—this was nothing like Alastor when he had his wits about him.

His omega was…complicated. He always had been.

Alastor flirted and charmed as easy as he breathed, but cringed when an alpha got too close—and never let anyone touch him but Lucifer.

His omega wanted to be dominated, but never simply accepted it. He teased Lucifer to pursue him, to pin him down, and to shut him up. But he still craved control and was shameless about expressing his desires.

Alastor wasn’t afraid of pain either. He asked to be bruised. He taunted until he was grabbed. And would beg Lucifer to fuck him until he ached. But he couldn’t abide a slap or a spank. Because that was humiliating.

This side of the omega, sweet, pleading, submissive, was foreign to Lucifer. But the alpha would do everything he could to take care of his mate.

Lucifer stretched up, pressing a kiss on Alastor's forehead as he slept.

The night was far from over.

♫ ♫ ♫ 

🎶Fever! In the mornin’, a-fever all through the night🎶

The next wave hit Alastor like a freight train.

One moment he was dozing peacefully in Lucifer's arms, the next he was writhing and whimpering, consumed by an inferno of need.

His skin felt too tight, too hot. Every nerve ending screamed for his alpha's touch.

"Alpha," Alastor gasped, his voice raw and desperate. "Please, I need—"

"Shh, I know what you need," Lucifer soothed, already moving to cover Alastor's body with his own.

The alpha's weight pressing him into the mattress made Alastor keen with relief. Yes, this was what he craved—to be pinned down, claimed, taken.

Lucifer's hands slid down Alastor's sides, gripping his hips firmly. In one swift motion, he flipped the omega onto his stomach. Alastor instinctively arched his back, presenting himself shamelessly.

"Look at you," Lucifer breathed, voice thick with desire. "So eager for me."

He ran a hand down Alastor's spine, relishing the full-body shudder it elicited. Slick glistened on the omega's thighs, the sweet scent of arousal hanging heavy in the air.

Alastor had no idea what time it was. No concept of anything. The tangled, damp sheets meant nothing to him. His only thought was of being filled and fucked again.

Lucifer lined himself up, the head of his cock teasing Alastor's entrance. The omega whined, trying to push back, desperate.

With agonizing slowness, Lucifer finally sank into Alastor's welcoming heat. The omega's body yielded easily, still loose and slick from their earlier coupling.

Alastor sobbed with relief as Lucifer;s hips pressed flush against his ass. "Yes, yes, please," he babbled, all traces of his usual eloquence gone. "Need you, need your knot, alpha—"

His pleas cut off in a choked gasp as Lucifer began to move.

His pussy ached. Every part of him burned. But still, he couldn’t abide by the easy and slow pace.

He couldn’t get the words to form on his tongue, just press his hips back in the hope his mate would snap and just take.

Lucifer's hands tightened on Alastor's hips, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise.

Lucifer set a maddeningly slow pace, savoring every inch as he slid in and out of Alastor's tight heat. The omega whimpered and squirmed beneath him, desperate for more.

"Please," Alastor begged, voice muffled by the pillow. "Faster, harder…"

"Shh," Lucifer soothed, running a hand down Alastor's sweat-slicked back. "Let me take care of you."

He continued his languid thrusts, grinding deep with each stroke. Alastor's walls clenched around him, trying to draw him in deeper. Trying to get him to move. Fuck him harder.

"That's it," Lucifer purred. "You feel so good, Alastor. So perfect for me."

Alastor whined, pressing back urgently. "Only for you," he gasped.

Lucifer's hips stuttered.

He leaned down, chest pressed to Alastor's back as he nipped at the omega's ear. "Say that again," he growled.

"Only you," Alastor repeated, desperation clear in his voice, as he lifted his head, trying to be heard through the thickness in his throat. "Only ever you…no one else."

A possessive growl rumbled in Lucifer's chest. He shouldn’t…but he wanted to hear his proud omega say it. Utter things he never would when he was fully in control.

He picked up the pace slightly, but still kept his thrusts measured and deep.

"This sweet pussy is all mine, isn't it? Tell me, Al."

"Yours," Alastor moaned. "All yours, alpha. Only yours."

Something deep inside Lucifer was instictively satisfied in a way he couldn’t explain or justify. Of course he knew Alastor had been a virgin when they met—hell, he’d eased the omega through being penetrated, let alone knotted.

But that primal, possessive thing inside the alpha just…purred at hearing the words. At making Alastor confirm them.

Lucifer snaked an arm around his omega’s middle, pulling them onto their sides while he was still fucking his mate. Inked fingers finding Alastor’s neglected clit.

"No one else could make you feel this good, could they?" Lucifer murmured. "No one else knows just how to touch you, how to fuck you."

"No one," Alastor agreed breathlessly. "Just you, Lucifer."

Lucifer rewarded him with a particularly deep thrust, grinding against that spot that made Alastor see stars. The omega keened, fingers clawing at the sheets.

"Please," he sobbed. "Please, I need..."

"I know baby, I know.” The blonde settled his grip on Alastor’s hip, his thrusts hard and fast. “You can have my knot, jus…need ya to say one more thing for me.

Alastor whimpered, his head ducked. “Anything, alpha"

Lucifer's breath caught at Alastor's immediate acquiescence.

The omega's eagerness to please, his willingness to say anything, sent a thrill through the alpha. He knew he shouldn't push further, shouldn't take advantage of Alastor's heat-addled state. But the possessive urge that had been simmering all night now threatened to boil over.

When else would he hear the words he longed for in Alastor’s voice.

"Tell me you'll never let anyone else touch you like this," Lucifer growled, punctuating his words with a particularly deep thrust. "That you'll never let another alpha fuck you."

Alastor gasped, his body trembling. "Never," he panted. "Only you, Lucifer. Only ever you."

The alpha's hand tightened on Alastor's hip. "And you'll never leave me, will you? You need me too much."

For a moment, something flickered in Alastor's eyes—a brief flash of his usual self, struggling against the haze of heat.

But then it was gone, swept away by another wave of desperate need as Lucifer's fingers found his clit again.

"I need you," Alastor whimpered. "I'll never leave. Please, alpha, I need your knot."

Lucifer groaned, burying his face in the crook of Alastor's neck as he felt his knot beginning to swell. He thrust harder, faster, chasing his own release as Alastor cried out beneath him.

"That's it, sweetheart," Lucifer panted. "Take my knot. You're mine, all mine."

“All yours.”

With a final, powerful thrust, Lucifer's knot locked them together. Alastor wailed out, unrestrained, his walls clenching rhythmically as his orgasm washed over him.

As the initial intensity faded, leaving them both panting and trembling, Lucifer felt a pang of guilt. He'd pushed too far.

But before he could voice his remorse, Alastor spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I meant it.

Lucifer's heart swelled.

He lifted up, wondering if his mate was suddenly lucid post knot—but Alastor had already drifted back to sleep.

He pressed a tender kiss to Alastor's shoulder, holding him close once more.

♫ ♫ ♫ 

Lucifer crept down the stairs, wincing as a floorboard creaked beneath his feet. He paused, listening for any sign that Alastor had stirred, but the house remained silent. He sighed out a breath of relief and he continued his stealthy descent.

He should have realized his omega wouldn’t want to let him out of bed, let alone down the stairs to get him a glass of water.

Not that Alastor was holding him down or making him stay. Hell, the omega in heat didn’t seem capable.

Lucifer rummaged through the kitchen, realizing with a pang that he missed his sharp-tongued mate.

As fun as it was to see this shamelessly pliant and submissive side of Alastor, as much as Lucifer loved being able to take care of the brunette when he was most vulnerable…he missed Alastor. Missed his way with words and how easily he could step into the pieces Lucifer was missing.

It made the alpha wonder how much of the man he loved was the defenses he’d built up. The image, the affect, the voice he’d cultivated.

Shaking his head, Lucifer gathered his supplies and began the trek back upstairs. As he approached their bedroom, he heard shuffling on the other side of the door. His hand hesitated on the doorknob.

"Al?" he called softly. "You alright in there, sweetheart?"

A whimper was his only response. Taking a deep breath, Lucifer pushed open the door.

🎵Fever! I’m a fire,

 fever, yeah, I burn forsooth 🎶

The sight that greeted him made his breath catch. Alastor stood in the center of the room, naked and trembling, his eyes wild with need. Gone was any trace of the collected radio host. In his place stood a creature of pure instinct and desire.

"Alpha," Alastor breathed, his voice rough. "You left."

Lucifer set down his burdens, approaching Alastor slowly. "Just to get some supplies, baby. I'm here now."

As he drew close, the scent of Alastor's heat hit him like a fresh tidal wave. Lucifer swallowed hard, fighting to maintain control.

"What do you need?" he asked gently, reaching out to cup Alastor's face.

Alastor leaned into the touch, eyes fluttering closed. "You," he whispered. "Only you."

Fuck, he missed the mouthy omega that would tell him exactly what to do.

This heat stricken omega couldn’t manage full sentences, let alone give the graceful teasing and taunts that let Lucifer know exactly what he needed.

Lucifer's breath caught as his mate suddenly dropped to his hands and knees in the middle of their bed, baring his neck in a submissive gesture that was entirely unlike Alastor.

The alpha felt a jolt of arousal and awe at the sight.

Alastor's lithe form trembled as he presented himself shamelessly to be mounted, his brown skin flushed and glistening with a sheen of sweat. The omega's chest heaved with ragged breaths. His slender back arched beautifully, dipping low to thrust his hips higher.

Lucifer's eyes raked over the enticing sight of his mate's exposed pussy. Alastor's thighs were slick and shiny, coated in a mixture of his own arousal and Lucifer’s come. His entrance clenched around nothing, puffy and swollen from use but still desperate to be fucked again.

A low whine escaped Alastor's throat as he shifted restlessly, spreading his knees wider in blatant invitation. His entire body radiated need, from his quivering limbs to the way his fingers curled into the bedding.

"Al…" Lucifer breathed, stunned by this uncharacteristic display. 

Alastor turned his head, peering back at Lucifer with half-lidded eyes dark with lust. His lips were bitten red and parted as he panted softly.

"Please," Alastor breathed, voice rough and accent thick. "Need you, cher."

Lucifer had never seen his proud, composed omega so vulnerable and exposed. A part of him knew he might never witness this side of Alastor again once the heat passed.

“I know, sweetheart.”

Setting the supplies aside, Lucifer's gaze traveled over Alastor's form. The omega was dripping with slick—Alastor would be mortified by such a mess. The fact that he seemed oblivious, showed how far gone he was.

"Please," Alastor whispered, his voice hoarse. "Alpha, I need."

Lucifer knelt on the bed behind him, running soothing hands over Alastor's hips. Just to have the omega cant his hips back to him, every inch of his body begging.

"Shh, I've got you," he murmured. "But sweetheart, you never want to be knotted like this. Are you sure?"

Alastor merely wiggled his hips in response, a needy whine escaping his throat. "Knot…please…need it…"

Lucifer hesitated, torn between desire and concern for his mate's wishes. "Al, when you're yourself again—"

"Now," Alastor pleaded, pressing back against him.

Lucifer gently eased his cock—perpetually hard these last days—into his omega.

Alastor let out a sigh of relief as he was mounted, some of the rigid tension easing from his muscles.

He looked back over his shoulder, and Lucifer saw every wall taken down and every barrier broken away. A silent conversation of pure vulnerability and trust.

"I've got you, Alastor," Lucifer murmured, his voice thick with emotion. 

He pressed one hand firmly onto Alastor's nape, grounding the omega as he slowly entered him. The omega’s breath hitched, a soft moan escaping his lips.

"Lucifer," Alastor gasped, thrilling the alpha just by saying his name for the first time in days through the haze of his heat. "Please…"

"You're everything to me, Al," Lucifer whispered, his movements smooth but purposeful. "Everything."

Alastor's only response was a breathy whimper, his body trembling beneath Lucifer's touch.

There was no point in holding back. Alastor couldn’t come, couldn’t even rest, until he was knotted. And the alpha’s body was only too eager to respond. Locking them together with a sharp thrust that had his omega quivering and mewling around his knot.

Alastor sank into the bed, body gone lax, and seemingly perfectly content to have his alpha’s weight on top of him.

Lucifer groaned, exhausted, lazily pressing his lips to Alastor’s shoulder blade, drawing a hand up his side. Feeling the sweat still clinging to his skin. He hummed, carefully going to shift them onto their sides, to hopefully get a little sleep before the next wave.

"Don't go," Alastor murmured. clutching to Lucifer’s hand around his middle, his voice was barely audible. "Stay. Please stay."

Lucifer's heart swelled at the naked vulnerability in Alastor's tone. His omega, usually so independent and aloof, was pleading for closeness. How could he deny such a request?

"Alright, sweetheart," Lucifer soothed, settling back down and pulling Alastor close. "I'm not going anywhere."

As they lay entwined, Lucifer stroked Alastor's back, marveling at this rare, unguarded version of his mate. He knew that when the heat passed, Alastor might be embarrassed by his neediness. But for now, Lucifer would cherish every moment of this intimate connection.

♫ ♫ ♫ 

The next morning, saw Lucifer’s attempt at cleaning them up fail spectacularly. And an uncomfortable knot over the edge of the bathtub, water still running and sloshing over them both.

Alastor hummed contentedly, unconcerned with their awkward position. Or the bruises they were both sure to have after this.

🎶Fever isn’t such a new thing

Fever started long ago🎶

Later, in the kitchen, Lucifer stirred the pot of gumbo, the rich aroma filling the house as he heated the meal Alastor had prepared before his mind had been replaced with nothing but heat. He'd barely taken two steps from the stove when Alastor's arms snaked around his waist, the omega's chest pressed flush against his back.

"Alastor, sweetheart," Lucifer chuckled, "I can't cook if you're attached to me like this."

Alastor nuzzled into Lucifer's neck, inhaling deeply. "Smells good," he murmured, though it wasn't clear if he meant the food or his alpha. Though for him, that was almost a full sentence.

Lucifer turned in Alastor's embrace, cupping his face. "You need to eat, sweetheart. Your body needs fuel."

But Alastor's glazed eyes were fixed on Lucifer's lips. "Need you more," he whispered, leaning in for a kiss.

Lucifer indulged him for a moment before gently pushing him back. "Food first, then we can—"

His words were cut off as Alastor ground against him, a needy whine escaping his throat. Lucifer's resolve crumbled.

"Alright, alright," he conceded, lifting Alastor onto the kitchen table. "But then you're eating, understood?"

Alastor nodded eagerly, spreading his legs invitingly. Lucifer had barely managed to get his mate to wear a scrap of clothing—and as much as he loved that deep red dressing gown—the satin fell open with even less resistance than the omega’s thighs.

As Lucifer pushed into him, Alastor's head fell back, a sound of pure relief escaping him. "Alpha," he breathed, clinging tightly.

Lucifer set a steady pace, one hand braced on the table, the other holding Alastor close. "I've got you, sweetheart," he murmured, pressing kisses along Alastor's jaw.

It didn't take long before Lucifer's knot began to swell, locking them together. Alastor shuddered through his release, collapsing against Lucifer's chest. And the alpha hoped the kitchen chair could support them both.

As they caught their breath, Lucifer reached for the bowl he'd managed to dish out earlier. "Now," he said firmly, "you need to eat."

Alastor made a soft noise of protest, but Lucifer was insistent. "Just a few bites, love. For me?"

Reluctantly, Alastor allowed Lucifer to feed him, his heat-addled mind slowly clearing just enough.

"There we go," Lucifer praised, relief evident in his voice. "That's my good omega."

Lucifer gazed at Alastor's flushed face, a mix of adoration and concern in his eyes. While he cherished these moments of vulnerability, a part of him yearned for the sharp wit and fiery spirit that defined his mate.

"I never thought I'd say this," Lucifer mused, stroking Alastor's hair, "but I miss your sass, darling."

Alastor merely nuzzled closer, still lost in the haze of his heat.

♫ ♫ ♫ 

🎵They give you fever

When you kiss them, fever if you live and learn

Fever! 🎶

Several days later, Alastor found himself on his hands and knees in front of the fireplace, sweat glistening on his skin and bruises marking his heated body…

As he scrubbed the living room floor with vigorous determination.

The scent of bleach mingled with the lingering sweetness of his heat, nearly making him nauseous with the effort to finally get it clean.

"Lucifer," he called out, his voice hoarse but regaining its usual crisp tone, "have you finished in the kitchen yet?"

"Almost done, sweetheart," His alpha called back. "Just wiping down the counters."

Alastor sat back on his heels, surveying the room. His normally impeccable hair was disheveled, and he wore an oversized shirt that hung off his frame—after Lucifer’s scent had saturated for a fe hours. "I can't believe the mess we made," he muttered, more to himself than his mate.

"Well, heat can do that to ya," Lucifer chuckled from the kitchen.

Alastor felt his cheeks burn.

"Yes, well," he cleared his throat, plucking at his clothes, "let's just focus on getting everything back in order, shall we?"

He returned to his task, scouring with renewed vigor. The physical activity helped ground him, slowly chasing away the last tendrils of heat-induced fog from his mind.

"Sweetheart," Lucifer's voice drifted from the kitchen, "don't wear yourself out. We can always finish cleaning tomorrow."

Alastor paused, realizing his arms were wobbling slightly from the effort. "I suppose you're right," he conceded, reluctantly. "I just…I need things to be normal again."

Lucifer appeared in the doorway, and the omega glanced up at him—only to drop his eyes once again, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

“It’s okay, Al. It’ll work its way out of your system soon enough.”

“Not soon enough.” Alastor murmured, folding his arms over his chest.

“Sweetheart…let’s take a break—” the look on the brunette’s face must have given him away. Because he was struggling to control everything about his body in the wake of his heat. “Just for a minute.” Lucifer soothed.

Alastor tried to resist, to remain stubborn with the set of his jaw…but he sighed out his exhaustion. And finally nodded, allowing Lucifer to help him to his feet and guide him to the couch.

He felt a surge of gratitude for his alpha's unwavering support.

"Thank you," he whispered, "for everything."

Lucifer pressed a kiss to his mate’s shoulder as he leaned back into the cushions, his inked arms curling around Alastor’s middle. Obviously intending to hold him still if the omega was going to continue being stubborn.

Alastor leaned into Lucifer's embrace for a moment, and he did try to relax.

But he hunched forward, his brow furrowing as memories from the past few days flooded his mind. Nearly throwing the pillows onto the still damp floor.

"My heats have always been a sweaty blur," he said quietly, his voice tight. "But this time…I remember everything. Every humiliating detail."

Lucifer ran his hands down Alastor’s arms carefully, because the omega couldn’t hide his obvious distress. "Al, it wasn’t—you shouldn’t be embarrassed."

"Shouldn’t be embarrassed?" Alastor scoffed, whirling around. "I’m not embarrassed. I’m mortified, Lucifer. I was…I was…" He trailed off, unable to voice the shame that burned within him.

"You were just, in that more, instinctive, side of yourself ," Lucifer fumbled with the words as he tried to soothe.

Alastor shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping him. "Oh yes, the wanton whore side of myself."

"Alastor." Lucifer’s tone was admonishing behind him.

"I begged you," Alastor interrupted, “repeatedly, to knot me in front of the fireplace? In the den?"

Lucifer's lips twitched, fighting a smile. "Well, if we're being technical, you didn't so much ask as drag me over and shove me down."

Alastor groaned, burying his face in his hands. "Oh, good Lord."

"Easy for you to say," Alastor retorted, a hint of his usual sharpness returning. "You weren't the one debasing yourself."

"No," Lucifer agreed, his tone gentle. "But I was there, and I didn’t see anything as awful as you’re remembering.” He chuckled, the way he did when he was trying to talk the omega down. “Hell, I thought you were gorgeous. Your every whimper and whine."

Alastor felt his face flush. "That's not helping, darling."

“Sorry…” Lucifer licked over his bottom lip. "It was just the heat talking. You know that, right?"

Alastor peeked through his fingers, meeting Lucifer's concerned gaze. "I suppose," he mumbled, not entirely convinced. “I’ve just…never felt so out of control.”

"What I mean is," Lucifer continued, "I never once thought less of you." Lucifer said softly, drawing his fingers through his hair, still trying to ease him. Lucifer insisted, gently prying Alastor's hands away from his face. "What happens during a heat doesn't define you. I love you—all of you—no matter what."

Alastor sighed, allowing himself to be pulled into another embrace. "I know," he whispered, his voice muffled against Lucifer's chest.

His fingers trailed over the marks left along his legs. He could almost feel the ghost of carpet burn on his palms and knees, a physical echo of his bared vulnerability.

Suddenly, a wave of heat crashed over Alastor, stealing his breath.

"Oh no," he gasped, gripping the edge of the sofa. "Not again, I thought it was fin—" His words dissolved into a needy whine. "L-Lucifer," his voice trembled.

Everything in him wanted to bend over the couch for his alpha and even the thought had slick rushing between his legs. But even as his body demanded satisfaction, his mind recoiled.

“Baby, it’s alright.” The blonde cooed, holding Alastor to his chest, even as the omega sank forward to press his forehead to his alpha’s thigh. “Just tell me what you need.” his hand a comforting weight on Alastor's lower back.

Alastor bit his lip, torn between desire and shame. "I've never felt so…so…"

"Shh," Lucifer soothed, bending to press a kiss to Alastor's nape. "None of that. Just let me take care of you."

Swallowing his pride, Alastor whispered, "I need to be knotted. Please." he admitted, unable to meet Lucifer's gaze. “Just, do it quickly. I’m knees hurt.”

Lucifer's heart ached at the vulnerability in Alastor's voice. He knew how much his proud omega hated feeling out of control.

"Of course, sweetheart," Lucifer murmured, his voice low and soothing.

With gentle hands, he eased Alastor onto his side on the couch. Lucifer settled in behind him, spooning the omega's trembling form. One arm wrapped securely around Alastor's waist while the other carefully lifted his leg, opening him up. Making him shiver again.

"Is this okay?" Lucifer asked softly, pressing a tender kiss to Alastor's shoulder.

Alastor nodded, unable to form words as another wave of heat washed over him. He felt exposed, vulnerable, but Lucifer's solid presence at his back grounded him.

Lucifer took his time, despite Alastor's plea for speed. He entered his mate with aching slowness, savoring the soreness he felt as the alpha’s cock slid inside him. Alastor's breath hitched, a whimper escaping his throat.

"Shh, I've got you," Lucifer soothed, nuzzling against Alastor's nape. "Just relax, sweetheart. Let me take care of you."

He set a lissome pace, each thrust deep and purposeful. The position allowed him to hit that spot inside Alastor that made him see stars, while still holding him tight.

The soreness…was exquisite. He could feel days of being fucked and knotted full. And it lit up his senses like fireflies in the dark.

Making him feel alive, and aware, for the first time in a week.

Alastor's hand flew up, gripping Lucifer's arm tightly as pleasure-pain coursed through him. "Lucifer," he gasped, voice thick with need.

"That's it, baby," Lucifer crooned, his lips brushing against Alastor's mating gland. "You're doing so well. So perfect for me."

He peppered kisses along Alastor's neck and shoulder, tasting the salt of his skin. His free hand roamed Alastor's body, pushing the ends of the shirt apart to touch his heated skin.

"You have nothing to be ashamed of," Lucifer murmured between kisses. "You're beautiful like this."

Alastor shuddered, torn between enjoyment and persistent embarrassment. "I-I can't help it," he admitted, face buried in a throw pillow, voice barely above a whisper.

"I know, sweetheart," Lucifer reassured him. "And that's okay. I love you—all of you. The prim and proper performer, and the needy omega in heat. Even the dark parts of you."

His words seemed to break something in Alastor. The omega let out a choked sob, pressing back against Lucifer with shameless need.

"I've got you," Lucifer encouraged, increasing his pace slightly. "You're safe with me."

Alastor's walls clenched around him, drawing a groan from the alpha. He could feel his knot beginning to swell, catching and locking them together.

Alastor's breath hitched as Lucifer's knot swelled inside him, tying them together. The initial wave of desperate need ebbed, replaced by a deep, satisfying fullness. He allowed himself to relax, melting back against Lucifer's chest as they settled onto the sofa.

Lucifer's arms encircled him, strong and secure. "How are you feeling?" he murmured, nuzzling Alastor's neck. "Not too sore, I hope?"

A wry chuckle escaped Alastor's lips. "Darling, in the interest of being explicit and articulate now that I can be…" He paused, savoring the delicious pain that permeated his body. "You have no idea how much I enjoy being made to ache by you."

Lucifer's chest rumbled with pleased laughter. "Is that so?" His hands roamed Alastor's body, gentle yet possessive. "I'm glad to hear it."

Alastor tilted his head, meeting Lucifer's gaze. "You needn't worry. I trust you implicitly."

Something shifted in Lucifer's expression, a tenderness that made Alastor's heart skip. The alpha tightened his embrace, pressing his lips to Alastor's temple.

"Al," Lucifer began, his voice low and earnest. "I want to…know all of you. I hope you know that."

Alastor tensed slightly, vulnerability warring with the comfort of Lucifer's arms. "Even the parts that are…less than decorous?"

"Especially those parts," Lucifer assured him. "You don't have to be anything other than yourself with me."

A lump formed in Alastor's throat. He'd spent so long cultivating his image, hiding his true nature. To be seen, truly seen, was both terrifying and exhilarating.

"I suppose," he sighed aloud, "that if one must bare their soul, it might as well be to their mate."

Lucifer's arms tightened around him. "That’s all I ask."

Alastor closed his eyes, allowing himself to bask in the unconditional acceptance. For once, he didn't feel the need to deflect with a witty retort or maintain his carefully crafted facade.

Here, in Lucifer's arms, he could simply be.

🎶What a lovely way to burn

What a lovely way to burn

What a lovely way to burn

What a lovely way to burn🎵

🎙️"Well, ain’t that a kick in the head? Dean Martin’s ‘Ain’t That a Kick in the Head’ is up next, and the game has just changed." 🎙️ PLEASE NOTE: after this chapter, this story gets very dark. There will be blood, assault, murder, and death, As I said, part 2 has a bittersweet ending. But this is a romance and the series has a happily ever after. And they're gonna earn it XD

🍒 On Ao3☕Read on Ream☕On Tumblr 🍒

[darcydarlingdabbles]

It's my 1 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

One Year of Fanfic Writing 🖤

A year ago, I posted my first fic—well on tumblr at least—and I had no idea what would come after. I’ve written stories that made me laugh, cry, and cringe (in the best way), and met so many wonderful people who’ve shared their excitement, ideas, and love for these characters with me.

This year hasn’t been easy. I’ve been through a lot, and grief has made writing harder than I ever expected. I’m not back to where I want to be, but I’m still here—and so many of you stayed, too.

Thank you.

To celebrate this weird, wonderful milestone, I’m opening my inbox to requests—drabbles, tropes, pairings, whatever’s been living rent-free in your head. I’ll pick a few to write as a thank you 💌

Here’s to finding joy in stories, even when things are hard. And thank you again for being here with me.

—Darcy 🖤

[darcydarlingdabbles]

🎙️✨ Until the Devil’s Last Dance ✨🎙️ Part 25  

🍒 On Ao3☕Read on Ream☕On Tumblr 🍒

Whatever Will Be, Will Be (Que Sera Sera) by Doris Day

🎙️"Ah, there’s a certain peace in letting go, isn’t there? In knowing that the future will unfold however it pleases. Tonight, our pair steps back into the world, side by side, ready for whatever lies ahead. In a place where everything is uncertain, they find strength in unity, embracing whatever may be. Que sera, sera... because sometimes, what will be is exactly what you need."🎙️

Did I change the song between chapters. Yes I did. We deserve some sweetness before things get...intense.

🎶When I grew up and fell in love

I asked my sweetheart what lies ahead?🎵

The crisp envelope sliced open under Alastor's manicured nail, releasing a whiff of expensive cologne. His nimble fingers extracted the heavy cardstock within, eyes scanning the flowing script.

"Well, well," Alastor hummed, a hint of tension belying his silky tone. "It seems our dear friend Valentino is hosting a soirée."

Lucifer, who had been lounging easily on their sofa, his arms wrapped loosely around his omega’s middle as Alastor sorted the mail.

The brunette cleared his throat, adopting the velvety cadence of his radio days. "'Seniors Mange, your presence is requested at The Rising Sun this Thursday eve. A night of jazz, libations, and stimulating company awaits. Do not disappoint.'" Alastor's voice dipped dangerously on the final words.

“That last bit sounded like a threat,” the alpha murmured, one arm still draped over Alastor’s lap, but there was a little bit of a growl in the edge of his voice.

"I was going to say, it sounded delightfully ominous."

Lucifer's golden eyes narrowed, muscles coiling beneath his tight white shirt. "Does he expect you to be the entertainment at this party?"

"Oh, undoubtedly," Alastor shrugged, tossing the invitation onto their cluttered coffee table.

“So, he should be paying your nightly rate. If he wants you on stage.” The blonde huffed.

Alastor leaned back against Lucifer, feeling the alpha curl protectively around him as the radio crooned away in the corner.

“I’m sure he wants me to attend, and entertain.”

He didn’t have to elaborate. He could tell from the way Lucifer tightened his hold around him—the alpha knew. Valentino was probably inviting all the pretty omegas and betas, to be eye candy and pleasant company for whoever he wanted to impress.

“Well, hope he doesn’t mind if you have a plus one.” Lucifer craned his neck to look at his mate. “As long as you don’t mind.”

“It’s addressed to both of us.” Alastor’s smile softened. “Not that I would have minded. I prefer your company any night.”

They’d been…tiptoeing around each other for a few days. Ever since the fight, and since Alastor came home covered in blood. The omega was worried his mate wouldn’t be able to sleep next to him after he came home from a kill—but on the contrary, Lucifer had been glued to his side.

Not that Alastor minded. He’d been feeling just as clingy as the nights grew longer and colder.

“Good, m’glad.” Lucifer hummed, a half smile on those lips Alastor adored.

The alpha lifted up, adjusting himself until his head laid back across the omega’s lap, his eyes falling closed in the late afternoon when neither of them were expected anywhere for the night.

Alastor’s fingers found their way to Lucifer’s golden locks, tracing lovingly over the frankly angelic features. The perfect planes of his handsome face. The slope of his nose, the cupid’s bow of his lips…really, Lucifer could be painted on the Sistine Chapel.

Anyone who thought his tattoos precluded him, could never appreciate the art on the ceiling, either. In Alastor’s opinion.

🎶Will we have rainbows day after day?

Here’s what my sweetheart said🎵

Lucifer's eyes fluttered open, meeting Alastor's warm gaze. The alpha's expression softened, a hint of hesitation in his voice as he spoke.

"Sweetheart…about the other day."

Alastor's fingers stilled in Lucifer's hair, his body tensing imperceptibly. The omega's smile remained fixed, but a flicker of apprehension crossed his eyes.

Lucifer reached up, gently cupping Alastor's hand and bring it to his lips. "You know I respect—"

“I know you do, darling.” The omega sighed softly. “I overreacted, and I’m—”

Alastor cut himself off, licking over his bottom lip as he looked away, and figited, adjusting his glasses on his nose.

“Al,” Lucifer asked, and the laugh on his tone got a glare from his mate. “Are you, trying to apologize?”

“What? No.” The brunette huffed, folding his arms over his chest. “I don’t—”

“Are you trying and failing to apologize??”

“Failing?!” Alastor gaped. “I haven’t even tried to—I wasn’t—”

His flustered attempts were cut off with a warm laugh from Lucifer.

The alpha pulled his hand back, easily, looking up adoringly from his lap as he kissed Alastor’s palm.

“I forgive ya, y’know?”

The tension in Alastor's shoulders eased slightly, but uncertainty lingered in his expression. Lucifer continued, his voice low and soothing.

"I got you something. For your next heat." He paused, gauging Alastor's reaction. "Birth control. So there are no accidents."

Alastor's eyes widened, a mix of emotions swirling in their hazel depths.

Relief, gratitude, and a touch of vulnerability that he rarely allowed anyone to see. His carefully maintained smile softened into something genuine, tender.

"Lucifer, I…" Alastor's voice caught, thick with emotion. He swallowed hard, composing himself. "Thank you. Truly."

The alpha beamed up at him, golden eyes shining with affection. “Always.”

A comfortable silence settled between them, broken only by the gentle crackle of the radio in the corner.

As if on cue, a new song began to play. The sweet, lilting voice of Doris Day filled the room, accompanied by a gentle piano melody.

Lucifer's smile widened, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Sing for me?" he asked softly, reaching up to trace Alastor's jawline.

“Well, cher, Alastor chuckled, a warm, rich sound. “I think I can manage that.”

The omega cleared his throat, his velvety radio voice blending seamlessly.

🎶Que Sera, Sera

Whatever will be, will be

The future's not ours to see

Que Sera, Sera

What will be, will be🎶

As Alastor's voice filled the room, Lucifer closed his eyes, drinking in the moment. The warmth of his omega's lap beneath his head, the tender touch of fingers in his hair, and that beautiful voice washing over him like a soothing balm.

In that perfect, quiet moment, both alpha and omega felt a sense of peace settle over them. Whatever challenges lay ahead.

🎶Will I be handsome? Will I be rich?

I tell them tenderly🎵

Alastor strode to the full-length mirror. His reflection stared back - tall, proud, defiant. Yet a flicker of uncertainty ghosted across his features as he fussed with his bowtie.

Warm hands with inked fingers settled on his hips, and Lucifer's face appeared beside his shoulder.

"You look perfect," the alpha murmured, fingers trailing down Alastor's sides.

Alastor's breath caught, heart skipping traitorously. He leaned into Lucifer's touch, allowing himself a moment.

"I know," he quipped. "But a little polish never hurts."

Lucifer chuckled, reaching around to adjust Alastor's bowtie.

Their fingers brushed, igniting a spark that raced through Alastor's veins. For a heartbeat, the looming threat of Valentino's invitation faded, leaving only the intoxicating warmth of Lucifer's presence.

Alastor met Lucifer's gaze in the mirror, drinking in the tenderness there. A part of him ached to surrender to it fully, to let down the walls he'd spent a lifetime building.

But old habits die hard, and Alastor shook off the moment with a coy smile. "Shall we paint the town red, darling?"

🎶Que sera, sera

Whatever will be, will be🎶

The pulsing rhythm of "Fever" by Peggy Lee spilled out onto the street as Alastor and Lucifer approached Valentino's club. Neon lights cast a lurid glow across their faces, transforming the night into a surreal scene.

Alastor paused at the threshold, adjusting his crimson bowtie. "Ready to face the music, my dear?" he purred, a razor-sharp smile playing on his lips.

Lucifer's golden eyes flashed. "Yep, all that jazz," he replied, his hand resting protectively at the small of Alastor's back.

The moment they stepped inside, it was as if someone had flipped a switch. Every head in the smoky room swiveled towards them, conversation dying to a low murmur. Alastor felt the weight of their stares–hungry, curious, envious.

And reveled in it.

He meandered through the crowd, chin held high, each step deliberate and graceful. Lucifer shadowed him, a dangerous presence radiating quiet strength.

"Well, well, if it isn't Val’s little songbird himself," a syrupy voice drawled. A short beta in a slinky dress sidled up to Alastor, her eyes roving appreciatively over his form. "Care for a dance, sugar?"

Alastor's smile never wavered. "My dear, while your offer is…tempting," he said, voice dripping with false sweetness, "I'm afraid I must decline. You see, I only dance with those who can keep up."

The beta's face fell, but before she could respond, another voice cut in.

"Alastor! Querida, you're positively glowing tonight." An alpha in an expensive suit approached, oozing charm. "I've been dying to discuss that brilliant voice of yours. Perhaps over a drink?"

Alastor's eyes narrowed imperceptibly. He recognized the glint in the alpha's eyes—not admiration, but calculation. This one saw him as a prize to be won, a notch on his bedpost.

"How kind of you to notice," Alastor replied smoothly. "But I'm afraid my dance card is quite full this evening. Perhaps another time."

As the alpha opened his mouth to protest, Lucifer stepped from behind him, an arm wrapped around Alastor’s middle, his presence suddenly filling the space between them. "I believe my mate made himself clear." he said softly, with the edge of a growl.

The alpha blanched and retreated, muttering apologies.

Alastor turned to Lucifer, a genuine smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "My hero," he teased, but there was warmth in his eyes.

"Just looking out for what's mine," Lucifer teased, pulling Alastor close.

For a moment, Alastor tensed, old instincts screaming at the possessive gesture.

But as he met Lucifer's gaze, he felt more than reassured. Lucifer was his equal, not his owner.

He relaxed into the embrace, allowing himself to savor the feeling of being protected without being caged.

As they made their way to the bar, Alastor's mind raced.

He'd navigated the crowd with his usual finesse, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. The air felt charged, electric with possibility—and danger.

"What's on your mind, sweetheart?" Lucifer murmured, his lips brushing Alastor's ear.

Alastor shivered, both from the contact and the pet name he usually despised. "Just wondering what our gracious host has planned for tonight's entertainment," he replied, his eyes scanning the room. "I have a feeling it's going to be quite the show."

The sultry notes of "Fever" drifted through the smoky air as a figure emerged from the crowd, cutting a path straight towards Alastor and Lucifer.

Alastor's spine stiffened, his fingers tightening imperceptibly around his glass.

"Well, well," drawled a charmless voice. One that still made Alastor cringe. "If it isn't the little freak of the French Quarter."

Alastor turned, his smile fixed and unwavering. "Adam," he acknowledged coolly. "Still slumming it with Valentino's crowd, I see."

The alpha before them was tall and broad-shouldered, oozing the kind of confidence that came from years of getting his way. His smirk was predatory as his gaze raked over Alastor.

"And this must be your…alpha," Adam sneered, "Playing house with a freak. How cute."

Alastor's mind raced, memories of past encounters with Adam threatening to surface. He pushed them down, focusing on the present. "I'd hardly call it playing," he retorted, voice steady despite the churning in his gut. "Some of us have evolved beyond playground antics."

Adam's eyes narrowed. "Always so quick with that silver tongue of yours. I heard you used it for better purposes."

Lucifer tensed beside him, but Alastor placed a gentle hand on his arm. This was his battle.

"Ancient history," Alastor said dismissively. "Much like your relevance in this city."

Adam's smug facade cracked, fury flashing in his eyes.

"You think you're so big and bad now, don't you?" he hissed. "But we both know what you really are. A pretty little omega who got lucky. How long before your alpha here gets bored and tosses you aside?"

Alastor felt a flare of white-hot anger, but while he swallowed it down, but Lucifer was making no such attempt. The omega quickly wrapped an arm around his mate just as he hopped off his bar stool.

"My dear Adam," he said, voice low and dangerous. "Your obsession with my status is becoming rather pathetic. Perhaps you should focus on your own shortcomings instead of fixating on mine."

He leaned in, dropping his voice to a whisper. "After all, we both know why you're really here, don't we? Still chasing after what you can't have."

Adam's face contorted with rage. And suddenly his hand was raising—like he was about to strike.

Just as Adam's hand began its downward arc, Lucifer smoothly stepped between them. His golden eyes burned, and the alpha’s presence filled three times his height.

"You wanna think real hard about your next move, punk," Lucifer said, his voice deceptively soft but laced with unmistakable power.

The jazzy strains of "Fever" drifted through the air, a stark contrast to the icy atmosphere that had descended upon their corner of the club.

Adam faltered, his hand dropping as he took an involuntary step back. Lucifer didn't move, didn't raise his voice, but something in his stance made it clear that crossing this line would be Adam's last mistake.

"Alastor," Lucifer said, without taking his eyes off Adam, "Anything else you wanted to say to your old riend here?"

Alastor felt a rush of warmth at Lucifer's intervention. It wasn't about control or dominance–it was about partnership. He stepped forward, placing himself shoulder-to-shoulder with Lucifer.

"Indeed I do," Alastor purred, his smile sharp as a razor. "Adam, darling, your jealousy is showing. And green is such an unflattering color on you." He adjusted his glasses, the light glinting off them menacingly. "Now run along before you embarrass yourself further."

Adam's face flushed an ugly red, but he backed away, muttering curses under his breath.

The crowd that had gathered to watch the confrontation slowly dispersed, disappointed at the lack of bloodshed.

As they exited the club, the cool night air hit Alastor's flushed skin. He took a deep breath, feeling the adrenaline slowly seep out of his system. Lucifer's hand found the small of his back, a gentle, grounding presence.

"Well," Alastor chuckled, "that was certainly more excitement than I bargained for this evening."

♫ ♫ ♫ 

The street lamps cast long shadows as they walked, their footsteps echoing in the quiet night. Alastor's fingers itched for a cigarette, but he resisted the urge, instead focusing on the warmth of Lucifer beside him.

"I must say," Alastor broke the silence, his voice softer than usual, "your timing was impeccable as always, cher." He glanced sideways at Lucifer, a genuine smile tugging at his lips. "Thank you.”

“For what, sweetheart?”

“well, for being you." Alastor brought a hand up to rub at his forehead. “There was no damn way to say that without being trite.

Lucifer's golden eyes seemed to glow in the dim light, with obvious gratitude, despite Alastor’s inelegance.

"Always, Al. We're in this together, remember?" His thumb traced small circles on the omega’s back.

Alastor chuckled, leaning into Lucifer's touch. "Together against the world, eh? Like Bonnie and Clyde, with better style."

"And hopefully a less tragic ending," Lucifer quipped, his deep laugh rumbling through the night air.

"You know," Alastor breathed, "this, whole thing, it terrifies me.” He felt as much as saw concern in every fiber of Lucifer’s being. “But, I suppose, I’m starting to trust…how different it is with you."

Lucifer's free hand came up to cup Alastor's cheek. "Different good or different bad?"

"Different…exhilarating," Alastor admitted, his heart racing. "Like standing on the edge of a cliff, knowing I could fall at any moment."

"I'll always catch you, sweetheart," Lucifer promised, his voice low and fierce. "No matter how far you fall."

For a moment, they stood frozen in time, the air thick with unspoken promises and barely contained desire. Then, slowly, deliberately, Alastor closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to Lucifer's in a kiss that tasted of whiskey, cigarettes, and something uniquely them.

As they broke apart, breathless, Alastor couldn't help but smile.

“And I’ll be there to pick you up, the next time you fall.”

🎶The future’s not ours to see

Que sera, sera

What will be, will be

Que sera, sera🎵

🎙️ ”Feel the heat rising…Peggy Lee’s ‘Fever’ is next, and it’s about to get intense.” 🎙️

🍒 On Ao3☕Read on Ream☕On Tumblr 🍒

[darcydarlingdabbles]

🎙️✨ Until the Devil’s Last Dance ✨🎙️  Part 24

🍒 On Ao3☕Read on Ream☕On Tumblr 🍒

Black Coffee by Sarah Vaughan

🎙️"Waiting is its own kind of punishment, especially when the night stretches on endlessly. The mind races, turning over what’s been done and what’s been left unsaid. With each passing hour, the bitterness seeps deeper—until morning, when perhaps the answers will finally come."🎙️

🎶I’m feelin’ mighty lonesome Haven’t slept a wink🎵

Lucifer's footsteps echoed through the empty house as he paced, his eyes darting to the door every few seconds.

The ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner seemed to mock him, each second stretching into eternity as he waited for Alastor's return.

"Damn it all," he muttered, running a hand through his disheveled blonde hair.

His alpha instincts screamed at him to go out and find Alastor, to bring him home safe. But he had promised to respect his omega's independence.

🎶I walk the floor and watch the door And in between I drink🎶

Lucifer's inner turmoil manifested in restless energy as he continued his relentless pacing.

"He said he'd walk himself home. I should trust him," he whispered to himself, trying to quell the growing anxiety in his chest.

But it wasn’t Alastor he didn’t trust.

🎶Black coffee🎶

What if something happened?

The thought gnawed at him, images of Alastor in danger flashing through his mind. Lucifer shook his head, willing the thoughts away.

No, Alastor was capable. He had to believe that.

His eyes fell on the now-empty corner of the living room where the baby things had been. A pang of guilt shot through him as he remembered Alastor's reaction.

"I should have known better," Lucifer said softly, regret coloring his voice. “How did I not know?”

🎶I’m talkin to the shadows One o’clock till four🎵

He had spent the sleepless night meticulously removing every trace of the baby items, determined to make amends for his insensitivity. The task had kept his hands busy, but his mind had continued to race with worry for Alastor.

🎵And Lord, how slow the moments go When all I do is pour🎶

As the first rays of dawn began to filter through the windows, Lucifer's resolve wavered. "Maybe I should just go look for him," he mused aloud, his hand already reaching for his coat.

But no, he pulled back. He had to trust Alastor. Had to show him that he respected his autonomy. Even if every fiber of his being screamed to do otherwise.

🎵Black coffee🎶

The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, a scent that usually brought comfort but now only served to intensify Lucifer's longing for Alastor.

He clutched the mug tightly, inhaling deeply.

"Damn it all," Lucifer muttered again, setting the cup down with a clatter. "This house feels empty without him."

His gaze fell on the pharmacy bag on the counter, a mix of hope and uncertainty churning in his gut.

The birth control pills nestled inside represented more than just medication—they were how he could give Alastor control over his own body and future.

"I hope he understands," Lucifer said softly, fingering the delicate petals of the roses he'd bought. "It's his choice. Always his choice."

🎶Since the blues caught my eye I’m hangin’ out on Monday, my Sunday dreams to dry🎵

Just as Lucifer's resolve began to crumble, the front door creaked open. Relief flooded through him, only to be replaced by sheer terror as he took in the sight before him.

"Alastor!" Lucifer cried out, rushing forward. His mate stood in the doorway, splattered in blood. The lamp in the corner flickered ominously as Lucifer's hands frantically roamed over Alastor's body, searching for injuries. "What happened? Are you hurt? Talk to me."

His heart raced, protective instincts in overdrive as he cupped Alastor's face, desperate for answers.

"Who did this to you? I'll tear them apart—baby.”

Alastor's eyes were distant, unfocused, as if gazing at something far beyond the confines of their home. A faint, unsettling smile played at the corners of his mouth. He slumped against the door, sliding down until he was seated on the floor.

"It isn't my blood," Alastor said softly, his voice eerily calm.

Lucifer's brow furrowed, confusion and concern warring within him. "What? Then whose—"

"An alpha," Alastor interrupted, a dark chuckle escaping his lips. "He followed me into a dark alleyway."

The implications hit Lucifer like a ton of bricks. His nostrils flared, a low growl rumbling in his chest. "Who was it?" he demanded, protective rage coloring his words. "Tell me his name, Alastor. I'll make him regret ever laying eyes on you."

Alastor's gaze finally focused on Lucifer, his smile widening to reveal teeth stained red. "It doesn't matter," he said, his voice taking on a sing-song quality that sent chills down Lucifer's spine. "I killed him."

Lucifer froze, staring at his mate.

The maniacal gleam in Alastor's eyes was unmistakable—a look of pure, savage joy at having taken a life.

It was a side of Alastor he'd glimpsed before, but never seen it so raw, so unrestrained.

"You…killed him?" Lucifer echoed, his own bloodlust warring with shock.

He didn’t…want to think about that. About Alastor having to take a life. He’d tried to protect his mate from everything while they were on the road. But he couldn’t keep his omega safe from every alpha.

He couldn’t keep every omega safe from every bad alpha.

Lucifer knelt beside Alastor, his hands hovering over the omega's bloodstained body. Despite the carnage, his touch was gentle as he carefully examined Alastor.

"Are you sure you're not hurt?" Lucifer asked, his voice low and urgent.

Alastor leaned into the alpha's touch, a small sigh escaping him. "I assure you, my dear, I'm quite alright. Better than alright, in fact."

Lucifer's fingers trailed along Alastor's jaw, tilting his face up to meet his stare. The omega's eyes were bright, almost feverish with dark excitement.

"Well, good riddance," Lucifer growled, a fierce pride blooming in his chest. "The world's better off without alphas like that."

Alastor's breath caught, his eyes widening as he stared at Lucifer.

The look on his face was indescribable—a mixture of awe, adoration, and something far darker. It was as if Lucifer had handed him the moon and all the stars with those simple words.

"I couldn't agree more," Alastor whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Alastor surged forward, his bloodied hands cupping Lucifer's face as he pulled the alpha into a deep, passionate kiss. The metallic taste of gore mingled with the familiar warmth of Alastor's lips, igniting a primal hunger in Lucifer that threatened to consume them both.

That metallic smell. The scent of another on his mate’s skin…awakened something primal in him. Something ancient. And starving.

Lucifer's alpha instincts roared to life, drowning out all rational thought. His hands grasped Alastor's waist, pulling the omega flush against him as he deepened the kiss.

The knowledge that another alpha had dared to touch what was his fueled a possessive fire.

Alastor responded with equal fervor, his fingers tangling in Lucifer's hair as their tongues clashed in a desperate dance. The omega's scent, tinged with the copper tang of blood and the intoxicating musk of arousal, filled Lucifer's senses.

As the kiss intensified, their teeth clashed, the sudden pain only adding to the heady swirl of instincts. Lucifer's mind raced with the need to claim, to mark, to erase any trace of another alpha's touch from his omega's skin.

“Alpha…” Alastor breathed against him.

With Herculean effort, Lucifer pulled back, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"We shouldn't," he whispered against Alastor's lips, even as the omega chased after his mouth.

"Why not?" Alastor breathed, his eyes inky with desire.

Lucifer opened his mouth to respond, to give voice to the countless reasons why this was a bad idea. But before he could utter a word, Alastor's teeth sank into his lower lip, not hard enough to draw blood, but with enough pressure to send a jolt of electricity down Lucifer's spine.

"We shouldn't, because you've clearly been through something. We need to get you cleaned up first." His eyes roamed over Alastor's form, and how much of him was splattered with scarlet. "Did anyone see you on your way home?"

Alastor's lips curved into a mischievous smile, seemingly unconcerned by his own state. "I wasn't seen." His hazel eyes burned as they caught Lucifer’s. “Do you…”

He hesitated over his words, licking his bottom lip. And Lucifer squeezed his shoulders to reassure him.

Alastor pinned Lucifer with his gaze. “Do you think I’m a monster?”

The question actually stunned him. But Lucifer already knew his answer.

“We’re all monsters, sweetheart.” Lucifer said it simply, focusing on unbuttoning Alastor’s shirt, peeling away the bloody clothes methodically. Wiping away the red stains. Letting the white cloth be ruined.

Alastor…wasn’t speaking. And Lucifer sighed, unable to look at his mate as he bared this wretched part of his old soul.

“I’ve seen humanity at its worst during the war. The things people do to each other, they…” Lucifer’s hands shook, and he saw Alastor’s long fingers covering his tattooed knuckles. Chasing away the memories of fire and blood and bodies piled high.

“Stay with me, Lucifer.” Alastor murmured, grounding him. When he was the one who’d been through hell tonight. “Stay right here.”

“I’m here.” Lucifer gave a breathless sound that was almost a laugh. “No matter how fucked up we both are.”

“No matter how fucked up we are.” Alastor agreed, wholeheartedly.

♫ ♫ ♫ 

“Darling…” he purred, his long fingers suddenly wrapping around Lucifer's belt. With a swift motion, he yanked the alpha closer, their bodies colliding. "I think," Alastor whispered, his breath hot against Lucifer's ear, "you should fuck me."

Lucifer's eyes widened, shock momentarily overriding his eagerness. "Alastor," he murmured, struggling to maintain his composure, "you're in shock. Like last time."

But Alastor was undeterred. 

His grip on Lucifer's belt tightened as he pressed his lithe body against the alpha's broader frame. "Being fucked was exactly what I needed last time," he argued, his voice low and sultry. "Don't you remember how good it felt, alpha?"

Lucifer's resolve wavered, but still, a nagging voice of concern persisted. Was this really what Alastor needed, or was it just a way to avoid dealing with whatever had happened?

Lucifer leaned back on his knees, putting some distance between them as he wrestled with his conflicting instincts.

 Every fiber of his being screamed to claim Alastor, to erase any trace of another alpha's scent. But the protective side of him held firm, insisting that Alastor needed care, not carnality.

"Al," Lucifer growled, his voice strained, "stop saying that word. It's driving me crazy."

A slow, wicked grin spread across Alastor's face. "What word, alpha?" he purred innocently, though his eyes glinted with impishness. "Fuck?"

Lucifer's hands clenched into fists at his sides, his control slipping. "Yes, that one," he hissed through gritted teeth.

But Alastor wasn't deterred. He prowled forward on his hands and knees, eyes locked on Lucifer with predatory ferocity. 

The alpha's breath caught in his throat as Alastor drew close, the scent of another alpha still clinging to him.

"These clothes," Alastor murmured, gesturing to his disheveled attire, "they stink of another alpha." His long fingers trailed teasingly along Lucifer's thigh. "I think you should rip them off…" He leaned in, lips brushing against Lucifer's ear as he whispered, "…and remind me who I belong to."

Lucifer's resolve crumbled as Alastor straddled him, their bodies pressing together on the cold kitchen floor. 

A whine escaped his throat, primal and needy, as Alastor's warmth pressed against him. The omega's lips ghosted along his neck, each whispered word sending shivers down his spine.

"It's been so long," Alastor breathed, nipping gently at Lucifer's earlobe, "since you left a mark on me." His hips rolled subtly, drawing another strangled sound from the alpha. "I miss the bruises, Lucifer. Miss feeling claimed by you."

Lucifer's hands trembled as they found Alastor's waist, torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer. 

"Alastor," he warned, his voice low and rough with desire. But even to his own ears, it sounded more like a plea than a reprimand.

Undeterred, Alastor pressed on, his words dripping with honey. "I want you to pin me down," he whispered, fingers tangling in Lucifer's hair. "Fuck me until I can't remember any other alpha's touch."

Lucifer's control frayed, hanging by a thread. 

"You don't know what you're asking," he growled, even as his grip on Alastor's hips tightened.

"Don't I?" Alastor challenged, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "I want you to make me forget, Lucifer. Remind me who I belong to."

Something inside Lucifer snapped. 

With a guttural growl, he surged forward, flipping their positions and pinning Alastor to the floor. His hands fisted in the stained white shirt, tearing it open with a satisfying rip. Buttons scattered across the tile as Lucifer bared Alastor's chest.

"Is this what you want?" Lucifer snarled, teeth grazing Alastor's collarbone. 

The omega arched beneath him, a breathy moan escaping his lips. "Yes," Alastor gasped, fingers clawing at Lucifer's back. 

Lucifer obliged, leaving a trail of biting kisses down Alastor's torso. Each nip drew a delighted shudder from the brunette, spurring Lucifer on. He reached Alastor's slacks, growling in frustration at the barrier between him and the tantalizing smell of slick. 

With swift, forceful motions, he tore them away along with Alastor's underwear, leaving him bare and trembling.

The scent hit Lucifer like a freight train—Alastor's arousal, thick and intoxicating. 

He inhaled deeply, his alpha instincts roaring to life. Alastor was soaked, slick glistening on his thighs, and the sight made Lucifer's mouth water.

"Look at you," Lucifer murmured, running his hands up Alastor's legs. "So wet for me."

Alastor's eyes were half-lidded, a smirk playing on his lips. "Only for you, alpha," he purred. "No one else could reduce me to this."

Lucifer growled in approval, dipping his head to taste. As his tongue flicked out, Alastor's hips bucked, a keening whine filling the air. But his omega was in no mood for foreplay.

"Such a good alpha," Alastor taunted breathlessly, fingers tugging at Lucifer's hair. "So eager to please your omega."

Lucifer's eyes flashed, a low growl rumbling in his chest. Without warning, he plunged two fingers into Alastor's slick heat, relishing the omega's sharp gasp.

Lucifer wondered if he’d pushed too hard, but the thought vanished as Alastor writhed beneath him, clearly relishing the roughness.

"Maybe," Lucifer growled, his dark gaze locking with Alastor's, "I just like reminding my smart-mouthed omega, that his pleasure belongs to me."

Alastor's body tensed, then melted as a wave of slick gushed around Lucifer's fingers. The alpha's nostrils flared, drinking in the heady scent of Alastor's arousal.

"Yes, alpha," Alastor keened, his voice thick with desire. He reached for Lucifer's free hand, guiding it to his throat. "Pin me down," he pleaded, "I want to feel your strength."

Lucifer hesitated, concern flickering across his features. He didn’t want to cut off Alastor’s air or risk suffocating him.

"Just to hold," Alastor assured him, "not to choke. Please, I need to feel you."

With a nod, Lucifer pressed his palm against Alastor's throat, careful not to apply too much pressure. The omega's eyes rolled back as he tried to keep them open, his hips grinding against Lucifer's fingers.

"That's it," Lucifer murmured, increasing the pace of his thrusts. "Let go for me, sweetheart."

Alastor's body tensed, his back arching off the floor as he cried out, quivering as his orgasm crashed over him.

Lucifer watched in awe as pleasure consumed his omega, marveling at the beauty of Alastor coming undone beneath him. The way he squirmed and his body clutched greedily at his fingers.

As Alastor's tremors subsided, he made a weak attempt to sit up, clearly expecting the encounter to be over. Lucifer's lips curled into a smirk.

"Oh no, omega," he purred, "I'm not done with you yet."

Alastor's eyes widened, a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty flickering across his face. "What do you—"

His words were cut off by a sharp gasp as Lucifer yanked him into his lap. There was always something thrilling about having his usually elegantly dressed omega, naked and squirming in his lap. Especially when Lucifer was still wearing his clothes. Letting the denim of his jeans be rough against Alastor’s bare ass. Lucifer curled an arm around his omega, pressing his back into Lucifer’s chest, tattooed fingers splayed over his perfect brown skin.

Lucifer could feel Alastor’s heart racing under his palm, still not fully recovered from his climax.

“Alpha…?” The omega murmured, a cautious curiosity in his tone.

“I said I wasn’t done.” Lucifer gave a dark little chuckle.

Alastor's lean frame was over him so that when Lucifer moved, Alastor's legs parted entirely, exposing his drenched pussy to the room.

The omega yelped, But Lucifer held him fast around his collar bones, until he could slide a hand between his legs. And curl his fingers inside Alastor. His walls fluttered with sensitivity.

“Alpha, I just…” he felt Alastor swallow under the palm holding his throat. “I can’t.”

“I think you can.” Lucifer hummed, his fingers rubbed at that perfect little rough spot inside his omega, feeling him shudder. “I think you can come for me again.”

Alastor quivered in his hold. But he knew what to say if he really couldn’t take it.

Lucifer palmed his clit, feeling the omega twitch still, until he pressed into his spot. The alpha's movements became almost violent, relentless as he worked him over again.

"Lucifer…" Alastor whimpered, his body jerking uncontrollably.

But even as he protested, Alastor's body responded, gushing wetness around Lucifer's fingers. The omega's eyes rolled back, overwhelmed by the visceral loss of control.

"That's it," Lucifer growled, his dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Show me how much you love this."

Alastor mewled, his head thrown back over Lucifer’s shoulder, his body trembling as another wave of pleasure crashed over him. Slick gushed from him as he clenched and came, puddling on the tile floor between their legs. And fuck, the sight and the smell of him were going straight to Lucifer’s cock.

Alastor reeked of sex and satisfaction. No blood. No other alpha’s scent. Just his sated mate, trembling in his arms, still panting and lax against him.

Lucifer traced idle fingers along his folds, feeling Alastor twitch. His body spent.

Lucifer gently released his neck and withdrew his fingers. He gazed down at his omega, taking in the sight of Alastor's flushed skin and dazed expression.

Alastor whined at the loss of contact, his voice was hoarse as he whispered, "Let me…please you, too. I could…"

Lucifer shook his head, leaning down to press a tender kiss to Alastor's lips. "Not now, darling. We need to get you cleaned up."

♫ ♫ ♫ 

Lucifer gently eased Alastor to his feet, steadying him as the omega's legs trembled. Alastor stumbled, nearly toppling over, and Lucifer quickly wrapped an arm around his waist.

"Easy there," Lucifer murmured, concern evident in his voice. "I've got you."

Despite his obvious exhaustion, Alastor managed to summon a spark of his usual sass. "Aren't you the gentleman?" he drawled, leaning heavily against Lucifer, " Though I must say, you are…rather overdressed for the occasion."

Lucifer chuckled, carefully guiding Alastor towards the stairs. "Is that so?"

"Mmm," Alastor hummed, his fingers toying with the collar of Lucifer's shirt. "It hardly seems fair, darling. Here I am, bare as the day I was born, while you remain frustratingly clothed."

"Life is rarely fair," Lucifer replied, his tone light despite the arousal still thrumming through his body. He could feel Alastor's warmth pressed against him, the omega's skin slick with sweat.

Alastor grumbled something under his breath, but Lucifer simply tightened his hold, supporting his omega as they made their way upstairs. He knew that beneath Alastor's complaints lay a deep-seated need for care and attention—one that Lucifer was more than happy to provide, in whatever form Alastor required.

Alastor huffed dramatically. "At least remove your jacket. It's chafing my delicate skin."

Lucifer raised an eyebrow, amused by Alastor's petulance. "Your 'delicate skin' seemed to enjoy quite a bit of rough treatment earlier," he teased.

A faint blush colored Alastor's cheeks, but he pressed on. "Be that as it may, I insist you disrobe at once. It's simply…" he paused, searching for the right word, "unseemly."

Lucifer nodded along, a fond smile playing at his lips. "Of course, how terribly rude of me. I'll remedy that situation just as soon as we get you cleaned up and tucked into bed."

“Bed?” Alastor’s voice broke, another indignant sound coming from his omega. He stopped, on the small landing between floors, rounding on Lucifer and wrapping his arms around Lucifer’s shoulders as his weight leaned into the alpha. “Darling, we’re not…done, are we?”

Lucifer pressed his lips together, hiding his smirk as Alastor nuzzled along his temple and down his jaw.

“You haven’t fucked me yet.” Alastor protested plantifly.

“Sweetheart.” The alpha started in a teasingly coddling tone, knowing how it would irk his mate. “You can hardly stand up.”

“Then make it so I don’t have to stand.” Alastor growled, as much as an omega could.

The sound still thrilled Lucifer.

Still, part of the blonde loved it when he got like this. Hiding his neediness in sass and defiance. Still demanding Lucifer’s attention. And his cock.

Alastor kissed him, hard, before whispering harshly against his lips. “Against the wall, over the stairs. I don’t care.” He gestured with a tilt of his head. "Though you might need a step-ladder to reach."

The playful jab at Lucifer's height was the final straw.

With a low growl, he pushed Alastor back, pressing the taller omega firmly against the wall beside the staircase. In one fluid motion, he wedged himself between Alastor's legs, forcing them apart.

Alastor's breath hitched, a blend of surprise and arousal flashing across his face. Lucifer felt a surge of satisfaction at catching his usually composed partner off guard. He leaned in close, his lips barely brushing Alastor's ear. "What was that about a step-ladder?"

Without waiting for a response, Lucifer hoisted Alastor up, easily supporting his weight as the omega's long legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. The new position brought their bodies flush together, and Lucifer could feel the heat radiating between them.

"I…" Alastor began, but his witty retort seemed to die on his lips as Lucifer rolled his hips forward. Instead, a soft whimper escaped him, his fingers digging into Lucifer's shoulders. "Please," he whispered, all traces of his earlier bravado gone. "Alpha, please…"

Lucifer's eyes darkened at the desperate plea. He'd always prided himself on his self-control, but hearing Alastor beg like this tested his resolve like nothing else. "What was that?" he asked, his voice husky. "I couldn't quite hear you."

Alastor gave a whine of pure frustration, and Lucifer smirked, rolling his hips against his omega, letting the rough denim rub against him.

“Ask for what you want.”

“Please.” Alastor panted. “Please, fuck me. Knot me.”

“There you go, sweet omega.”

Lucifer's hands moved swiftly, freeing himself from the confines of his jeans and boxers. He paused for a moment, savoring the anticipation crackling between them. Then he slid into Alastor, prompting a sharp gasp from the omega.

"Lucifer," Alastor breathed, his arms tightening around the alpha's shoulders.

Recalling how Alastor had pulled his own hair earlier, Lucifer tangled his fingers in the omega's dark locks. He tugged gently, tilting Alastor's head back and exposing the column of his throat.

"Mine." Lucifer growled, punctuating his word with a sharp thrust.

Alastor mewled.

He surged forward, capturing Lucifer's lips in a searing kiss. Their tongues clashed as their bodies moved. Lucifer could taste the desperation on Alastor's lips, feel it in the way the omega's body trembled against his.

As he continued to drive into Alastor, pinning him against the wall with each shove, Lucifer wondered. He'd never seen his mate quite like this—so needy, so unrestrained. It awakened something instinctual within him, a desire to claim and possess that went beyond mere physical pleasure.

"Mine," Lucifer growled against Alastor's lips. "Say it."

Alastor's eyes, usually so sharp and calculating, were hazy with pleasure. "Yours," he gasped. "Always yours, alpha."

The wall trembled with each forceful thrust as Lucifer drove them both towards climax. Alastor's legs tightened around his waist, heels digging into Lucifer's lower back.

"Lucifer—," Alastor panted, his normally composed voice breaking.

Lucifer growled in response, redoubling his efforts. He could feel his knot beginning to swell, catching on Alastor's pussy with each thrust. The omega's inner walls clenched around him, drawing him deeper.

With a final, powerful thrust, Lucifer buried himself to the hilt as his knot fully expanded. Alastor cried out, his body convulsing in pleasure as he came. The pulsing of the omega's channel triggered Lucifer's own release, and he groaned as he emptied himself into his mate.

As the shared bliss began to ebb, Lucifer felt his legs tremble. Carefully, he lowered them both to the floor, still locked together by his knot. They slumped against the wall, breathing heavily.

"This is entirely your fault, you know," he said, gesturing to their current position.

Alastor's lips curved into a satisfied smirk. "I take full responsibility," he murmured, leaning in to press a lazy kiss to Lucifer's mouth. "And I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

Lucifer shook his head fondly, even as he traced the outline of a bruise forming on Alastor's hip. The omega let out a contented sound that was suspiciously close to a purr.

"Did you just purr?" Lucifer asked, amused and a little awed.

Alastor's eyes widened slightly, as if surprised by his own reaction. "I suppose I did," he admitted. "You have that effect on me…"

Lucifer turned with a smirk, happy to give lazy kisses until his knot went down. But the omega cupped his face.

Alastor's fingers traced the sharp line of Lucifer's jaw, his touch feather-light and hesitant. The omega's hazel eyes, usually so full of mischief and barely contained chaos, now held a vulnerability that made Lucifer's heart ache.

"Earlier," Alastor began, his voice soft and uncertain, "when I left, I…" He trailed off, struggling to find the right words. His gaze flickered away, focusing on a point just over Lucifer's shoulder. "The things I said, they were…"

Lucifer waited patiently, knowing how difficult it was for his proud mate to find the words. He could see the conflict playing out across Alastor's face, the way his brow furrowed and his lips pressed into a thin line.

"I didn't mean to…" Alastor tried again, frustration coloring his tone. His fingers curled against Lucifer's skin, as if seeking an anchor. "The baby things, they caught me off guard, and I reacted poorly."

Lucifer's heart clenched at the memory of their argument, the hurt…the fear in Alastor.

“It’s okay, Al, I didn’t think—.”

The omega pressed the tips of his fingers against Lucifer’s lips.

"It is not okay. I lost my temper. And I shouldn't have stormed out like that," Alastor continued, his voice barely above a whisper. He swallowed hard, adam's apple bobbing. "And I regret causing you distress."

It wasn't quite an apology, but Lucifer knew it was as close as Alastor could come right now. The omega's pride was a fragile thing, and Lucifer had no desire to wound it further.

"Sweetheart," Lucifer murmured, bringing his hand up to cup Alastor's cheek. "I love you. Every prickly, stubborn, wonderful part of you."

A small smile tugged at the corners of Alastor's mouth, some of the tension easing from his shoulders.

He pressed forward, until their foreheads rested against each other.

“And I love you.” Alastor murmured. “To the ends of the earth, and whatever comes after.”

🎶It’s drivin’ me crazy

This waitin’ for my baby

To maybe come around🎵

🎙️ "What will be, will be, my darlings... sometimes the future is written in the stars. Doris Day’s ‘Que Sera Sera’ is up next, and it’s a song for those who embrace whatever may come." 🎙️

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[darcydarlingdabbles]

🎙️✨ Until the Devil’s Last Dance ✨🎙️ Part 23  

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I'm Gonna Live Till I Die by Frank Sinatra

🎙️"There’s nothing quite like the thrill of feeling alive. When the rush hits, and everything sharpens into focus, there’s a sense of purpose, of clarity. Tonight, someone steps fully into their power, and nothing—not even the past—can hold them back now."🎙️

🎶I’m gonna live ‘til I die

I’m gonna laugh ‘stead of cry

I’m gonna take the town and turn it upside down

I’m gonna live, live until I die🎵

The flickering fluorescent light cast a sickly pallor over Alastor's face as he slumped in a rickety chair, alone in the cramped back room of Valentino's club.

The faint thump of swing music from the stage reverberated through the walls, a stark contrast to the oppressive silence surrounding him. His fingers traced idle patterns on the scratched surface of the cheap wooden table before him, his gaze fixed unseeing on the grainy picture of a muted television in across from him.

"Damn it all," Alastor muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

The harsh words he'd hurled at Lucifer echoed in his mind, each syllable a fresh twist of the knife in his gut. How could he have been so callous?

He buried his face in his hands. He wasn’t ashamed—everything he said was absolutely right. If Lucifer wanted a family, Alastor wasn’t the right mate for him. But.

"He didn't deserve that. Not from me."

Alastor's thoughts churned, replaying their argument in excruciating detail. Lucifer's hurt expression, the genuine confusion in his eyes when Alastor had lashed out.

It was unfair to expect Lucifer to immediately understand his aversion, wasn't it? After all, Lucifer was an alpha—the desire for offspring was a perfectly natural part of his instincts.

"I should have explained," Alastor murmured, fingers clenching into fists. "Should have given him a chance, instead of…"

His words trailed off as a different sensation began to creep through him, pushing aside this suffocating guilt.

It started as a faint tingle in his fingertips, spreading up his arms and settling in his chest like a second heartbeat. The urge for violence, dark and intoxicating.

It had been so long since he’d tasted blood.

His urge for violence had been satisfied while they were on the road here, from the alphas they doped and Lucifer dropped. It had placated Alastor.

But overpowering Chaz in that alley this evening. It reawakened his hunger.

Alastor flexed his hands, imagining them coated in red…soaked with deliciously tart taste of blood.

His aversion to pregnancy wasn’t the only thing he’d been keeping from Lucifer.

But as soon as the thought formed, icy tendrils gripped Alastor's heart. What if Lucifer was disgusted by this side of him? What if it was too much, even for his doting little alpha?

"I can't lose him," Alastor choked out, his voice cracking. "Not over this. Not when I've already hurt him so much."

The realization hit him like a physical blow.

It was fear that kept him silent. Fear of losing the one person who truly saw him, who accepted him despite all his flaws. The thought of seeing revulsion in Lucifer's eyes, of losing his trust and affection, was more terrifying than any brutal urge.

Alastor slumped forward, resting his forehead on the cool surface of the table. "What am I going to do?" he whispered to the empty room, torn between guilt, fear, and the seductive whisper of vengeance that refused to be silenced.

"Lucifer…he's not like the others," Alastor mused aloud, his gaze distant. His heart pounded in his chest as he faced the truth head-on.

"He's never tried to hurt me when I didn’t give him what he wanted. Not even once." The recognition hung heavy in the air, a stark contrast to the brutality of other alphas he'd encountered.

His chest tightened with remorse. A very uncomfortable feeling to sit with. Even more so than realizing his tiraid, fueled by his deep-seated terror and hatred of alphas. Alastor raked his hands through his hair.

Rising from his seat abruptly, Alastor began to pace the confines of the small room, shoving the one damn chair under the table as he passed.

He was going to have to make amends.

The idea of offering a direct apology made him bristle; it clashed with his pride and self-image as an omega who refused to be submissive or weak.

Then, an idea struck him, and a slow smile spread across his face. "Actions do speak louder than words, after all," he murmured to himself. “I’ll show him that I know he isn’t like the rest.”

Getting on his knees and offering his mouth had never, not once, worked with his stubborn little alpha. But there were other ways of being sweet to his mate.

If that meant giving up control. So be it.

Alastor nodded to himself, pleased with this plan. He could be warm and affectionate. He’d take the alpha’s orders, allow him to do whatever he liked without sassing him about it, let Lucifer manhandle him—

An unexpected rush of arousal and slickness between his legs—something that startled Alastor, considering how well he usually kept such an omega response in check.

"I guess I've been on edge lately," Alastor mused aloud again before shaking off the surprise at this physical reaction and focusing back on what mattered most.

Setting things right with Lucifer.

🎶The blues I lay low

I’ll make ‘em stay low

They’ll never trail over my head🎶

As he walked towards the door, a renewed sense of purpose filled him. He was going to bridge the chasm he'd created between himself and Lucifer, showing his alpha just how much he truly mattered to him.

With a smooth, well-rehearsed gesture, Alastor retrieved his jacket from the chair's backrest. He weaved his way through The Rising Sun's buzzing throng, skillfully batting away the intrusive stares and advances of the alphas.

He’d mastered the art of cutting off the persistent pestering. With sharp wit and sharper words that cut their egos to size.

“Hey, songbird.” The distinctive tone of Chaz punctured the low hum of chit-chat and clinking glassware. Despite their earlier confrontation in the dimly lit alley, Chaz had somehow managed to drag himself into work, battered but not beaten.

Alastor swiveled around to confront him, hazel eyes bright and vicious behind his round spectacles. A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he prepared a comeback designed to deflate Chaz without stirring too much animosity.

"Well now," Alastor began in his perfected radio voice, "if it isn't our resident bottle opener. Still being a useful tool?"

His words triggered a titter from the drunk alphas holding up the bar.

Chaz's face flushed beneath their taunting guffaws; however, Alastor merely shrugged into his coat and continued towards the exit. He had more important matters to deal with it.

🎵Gonna dance, gonna fly

I’ll take a chance, ridin’ high

Before my number’s up, I’m gonna fill my cup🎵

Alastor pushed open the heavy door of the club, the cool night air a welcome respite from the stifling atmosphere inside. He inhaled deeply, savoring the crisp scent of the approaching autumn. His moment of peace was short-lived, however, as the door swung open again behind him.

"Leaving so soon?" Chaz's voice sent an involuntary shiver down Alastor's spine.

Alastor turned, his trademark smile fixed firmly in place. "Ah, Chaz. I didn't realize you were so eager for another verbal thrashing."

Chaz's eyes narrowed, his stance aggressive. "You think you're so clever, don't you? Makin’ fun of me in front of everyone?"

A familiar surge of anger rose in Alastor's chest, but it wasn’t accompanied by an undercurrent of fear. His heart raced, emotions swirling chaotically within him. But, he had bested this alpha once before. And his confidence had grown.

"My dear fellow," Alastor said, struggling to keep his voice steady, "if you found the truth humiliating, perhaps you should reconsider your actions rather than pursuing petty revenge."

Chaz took a menacing step forward. "You'll regret crossin’ me, bitch."

Alastor's hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms. The intensity of his reaction startled him.

"I assure you," Alastor said, his voice low and dangerous, "You will regret it if you take another step to follow me."

The fear, the anger, the wild swings in emotion—it was all so much more intense than usual. Something was different, but he couldn't put his finger on what.

Chaz's lips curled into a snarl as he advanced, forcing Alastor to retreat step by step. "You've got a smart mouth for an omega. Maybe it's time someone taught you your place."

Alastor's back hit the cold brick of the alley wall. A fleeting thought crossed his mind—he could defuse this situation with a well-placed compliment, a coy smile, a submissive tilt of his head.

But the very idea made his stomach churn.

"My place?" Alastor's voice dripped with disdain. "It's far above the likes of you."

Chaz slammed his palm against the wall beside Alastor's head. "You little—"

Alastor's heart pounded, but beneath the fear, he felt something else. A strange, electric current course through his veins.

"I'd choose your next words carefully," Alastor said, his smile sharp as a knife's edge. "You may find I'm not as helpless as you imagine."

Chaz leaned in, his breath hot on Alastor's face. "Is that so? Let's see how tough you are when—"

As Chaz's hand reached for his throat, Alastor ducked the arm, adrenaline pounding in his veins.

He was not going to be helpless anymore.

Chaz's fist connected with Alastor's jaw, sending a burst of pain through his skull. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth.

How…delicious.

"Not so cocky now, are you?" Chaz sneered, readying another punch.

Alastor’s lips pulled back over the blood in his teeth. “Not quite.”

He was ready this time. He dodged, using Chaz's momentum against him. And the fool alpha fell for the same trick twice—walking right into the sweep of Alastor’s leg. landing him face first in the grime of the alley way.

With the tall, strong omega pinning him to the cobblestone.

"Had a bit to drink tonight, Chazwick?" Alastor purred. “You seem a bit…sloppy.”

“Get the fuck offa me!” Chaz struggled, but Alastor held firm.

Though he knew that if this became a test of endurance, he would eventually lose. Even to a drunken alpha.

His eyes darted around the alley, searching for anything he could use. That's when he saw it—the jagged neck of the broken bottle, glinting in the dim light. The very same one he’d broken on this knothead’s skull during the daylit hours.

"Let go of me, you nasty little bitch!" Chaz snarled, thrashing against Alastor's hold. “Fuckin’ fight me like a man.”

Alastor's fingers closed around the bottle's neck.

He felt a moment of hesitation, a flicker of his old self warning him to stop. But the rush of power, the thrill of having the upper hand, was too much to let go of now.

"I’d rather fight like an omega." Alastor whispered, his voice eerily calm at the alpha’s ear.

With a swift, brutal motion, Alastor grabbed the alpha’s hair, yanking his head to the side, and drove the jagged glass into Chaz's throat.

The alpha's eyes widened in shock and pain. Red filled the neck of the bottle in an instant. Gushing with every beat of his frantic heart warm blood sprayed onto Alastor's face and hands.

As Chaz slumped, gurgling and clutching his throat, Alastor knelt over his back. Horror and exhilaration warred within him, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

What had he done? He thought, staring at his bloodied hands. But beneath the shock, a darker thought emerged: And why, had he waited so long to do it?

🎵I’ll be a devil ‘til I’m an angel

But until then, Hallelujah! 🎶

Alastor's chest heaved as he watched the life fade from Chaz's eyes. The alley fell silent, save for the distant hum of the city and his own ragged breathing. A strange calm washed over him, followed by an intoxicating surge of energy.

"Well," he murmured to himself, a sardonic smile twisting his lips, "I suppose that settles the debate on my maternal instincts."

He flexed his fingers, marveling at the strength he felt coursing through his body. The blood on his hands glistened in the dim light, a stark reminder of the power he now wielded.

He was not meant to be docile. Nothing about him was sweet.

Alastor glanced down at Chaz's lifeless form, feeling a mix of disgust and triumph. "You alphas always underestimate us," he spat. "But I won't be your victim. Not anymore."

The rush of the kill, so familiar yet long forgotten since Vox, ignited something primal within him. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing his true nature that had always simmered beneathe.

Lucifer.

His mate’s name made his heart clench. But there was no hiding the blood that spattered him now. Or how good it tasted on his lips.

Alastor straightened, wiping his hands on his clothes.

He felt no remorse. No guilt. No more shame.

"I'm not meant to create life," he whispered to the night. "I'm meant to take it."

🎶I’m gonna

live, live, live, live, live

until I die🎶

🎙️"Bitter thoughts and sleepless nights…Sarah Vaughan’s ‘Black Coffee’ is brewing next."🎙️

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[darcydarlingdabbles]

🎙️✨ Until the Devil’s Last Dance ✨🎙️   Part 22

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Love Me Or Leave Me by Nina Simone

🎙️"There comes a moment when everything changes—when what seemed certain becomes uncertain, and what was steady begins to crack. You can either stay and fight, or you can walk away. But when the lines are drawn, love alone may not be enough."🎙️

🎶Say, love me or leave me and let me be lonely

You won’t believe me but I love you only

I’d rather be lonely than happy with somebody else🎵

The scent of simmering gumbo clung to Alastor's clothes as he strolled down Bourbon Street, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the weathered buildings. He adjusted his bowtie, a small smile playing on his lips as he recalled Lucifer's earnest attempts at mastering the art of roux-making.

"Now darling, you must remember to stir constantly," Alastor had instructed, his voice dripping with amusement. "We wouldn't want it to burn, would we?"

Lucifer had growled playfully, his strong arms working the wooden spoon. "I think I can handle stirring a pot, sweetheart."

Alastor chuckled at the memory, his steps light as he made his way to the market.

The alpha had been reluctant to let him go alone, but Alastor had insisted. He relished these moments of independence, brief as they were.

"It's hardly dark out, my dear," Alastor had said, patting Lucifer's cheek. "I'll be perfectly fine."

🎶You might find the night time the right time for kissing

Night time is my time for just reminiscing

Regretting instead of forgetting with somebody else🎶

Now, with the filé powder and a bottle of bourbon tucked under his arm, Alastor turned to head home.

The street was alive with the early evening crowd, music spilling from open doorways and mingling with the chatter of tourists.

"Well, well. If it isn't our lil songbird."

Alastor's smile tightened as he recognized the voice. Chaz, the alpha bartender from Valentino's club, sidled up next to him, far too close for comfort.

"Good evening, Chazwick," Alastor said coolly, quickening his pace. "I'm afraid I can't stop to chat. I have a gumbo to attend to."

Chaz matched his stride, his scent heavy. "Come on, sugar. No need to rush off. Why don't you let me mix you a special drink tonight?"

“Your invitation is neither welcome nor appropriate." Alastor's grip on the bottle tightened. "I believe you know quite well that I have an alpha.”

Chaz leaned in, his breath hot on Alastor's ear. "I don't see him here, do you?"

A shiver of revulsion ran down Alastor's spine, but he kept his voice steady.

"His absence does not negate his claim, nor does it invite yours." Alastor could feel his heartbeat quickening, a mix of anger and a primal fear he despised. How dare this brute think he could intimidate him?

And yet, a small voice whispered, isn't this exactly why Lucifer hadn't wanted him to go out alone?

No. Alastor refused to let that thought take root. He was more than capable of handling himself, alpha or no alpha.

When Chaz decided to put the nail in his own coffin. “Val told me ya like alphas to owe ya favors.” He grinned, his eyes darting to Alastor’s lips. “And that ya got a velvet throat.”

Alastor stopped dead in his tracks, his fist clenched around the bottle of bourbon, and a snarl curling at his lips.

One day, he was going to slit Valentino’s throat.

But right now, he needed to put that old bit of vulgar gossip to bed. Permanently.

Alastor's lips curled into a disarming smile as he turned to face Chaz. "My dear fellow, I’d only make such an offer…to someone worth my time." He batted his eyelashes coyly, voice dripping with honeyed sarcasm.

“You got time.” Chaz grinned, making Alastor’s skin crawl when he grabbed the omega’s arm. “And we got this empty allyway, right here.”

Alastor’s smile was still more bared teeth than sweetness, but, he poured on his charm. “Well, how can I resisted such a tempting offer.”

“What?” The alpha blanched, like he was being to audacious for any of his flirtations to be accepted. But he quickly righted his expression. "I knew you'd come around, mama.” Chaz grinned, clearly mistaking Alastor's act for genuine interest.

Alastor tried not to sneer at that particular pet name—he despised it. And what it reduced him to.

"Oh my, how scandalous," the omega giggled, allowing Chaz to guide him into the narrow passageway between buildings.

As they reached the shadows, Alastor let his demeanor shift. He cowered against the rough brick wall, eyes wide with feigned fear. "Please, I-I've changed my mind."

Chaz advanced, triumph in his eyes. "Don't worry, baby. I'll be gentle—"

That was all the justification the omega needed. 

In a flash, Alastor struck with the bottle he was holding shattering the glass—and rather regrettably spilling the honey brown contents all over Chaz.

The alpha stumbled, momentum carrying him backward and, with a sickening thud, his head connected with the corner of a dumpster.

Chaz crumpled to the ground, out cold.

“Oops,” the omega chuckled.

Alastor straightened, smoothing his clothes. He looked down at the unconscious alpha, feeling a rush of savage satisfaction, and he didn’t bother to check Chaz's pulse as he stepped over the prone form.

“I do hope you recover from your…boozing, before your shift.” For a moment, Alastor considered the broken bottle neck in his hand.

It would be too easy.

To plunge it into the alpha’s guts and let him bleed that glorious red—but it was still early evening. The street beyond was full of witnesses.

So Alastor tossed the broken bottle towards the alpha’s body, and decided to let him rot where he was.

♫ ♫ ♫ 

On Bourbon Street, Alastor's stride was light, almost bouncy.

Power thrummed through his veins.

He'd bested an alpha using nothing but his wits—proof that he didn't need Lucifer always looming over his shoulder.

Though he still loved his mate’s company.

"Perhaps I'll suggest a little…celebration when I get home," Alastor mused, picturing Lucifer's strong hands, his fervent kisses. The thought of their lovemaking while the gumbo simmered was deliciously tempting.

As he approached their house, however, Alastor's steps slowed.

Something was…different.

The porch had been swept clean of the usual layer of dust and debris. Through the window, he could see warm lamplight and—were those curtains?

Frowning slightly, Alastor pushed open the door.

The scent of gumbo mingled with the sharp tang of cleaning products. Lucifer stood in the living room, surrounded by boxes and knick-knacks Alastor hadn't seen in years.

"Darling," Alastor called, confusion coloring his tone. "What on earth have you been up to?"

Lucifer's face lit up as he turned to face Alastor, his golden hair slightly mussed from his efforts.

"Welcome home, sweetheart," he beamed, gesturing proudly at the transformed space. "I thought I'd surprise you by sprucing things up a bit."

Alastor's gaze swept the room, lingering on a small pile of what appeared to be…infant clothing?

His brow furrowed. "What's going on here?" he asked, his voice carefully neutral.

"Oh, I've been unpacking," Lucifer replied cheerfully, moving to embrace Alastor. "I wanted to make this place feel more like home. You know, really settle in together."

🎵There’ll be no one unless that someone is you

I intended to be independently blue🎶

As Lucifer drew near, he inhaled deeply, expecting to catch Alastor's familiar scent.

But, his nostrils were filled with the rich aroma of simmering stew. He pulled back slightly, searching Alastor's face.

The omega stood unnaturally still, his expression unreadable. Lucifer felt a flicker of uncertainty. Was Alastor pleased? Upset? He couldn't quite tell.

"I hope you don't mind," Lucifer continued, still trying to gauge Alastor's reaction. "I found some old things in storage. Thought they might add a nice touch."

Alastor's gaze remained fixed on the baby clothes.

Lucifer followed his line of sight, suddenly feeling a bit nervous. "I, uh, just thought those were cute. Cleaned them up a bit."

He watched Alastor carefully, noting the slight tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers twitched at his sides.

Lucifer's mind raced. Had he overstepped? He'd only wanted to create a cozy atmosphere for them both.

"Al?" Lucifer prompted gently when Alastor remained silent. "Is it too much? Are you okay?”

Alastor's hand rose slowly, gesturing towards the baby items with a measured grace that didn't quite mask the tremor in his fingers. "And these?" he asked, his voice unnaturally calm. "What exactly are your intentions with these…charming relics?"

"Oh, you know. We might need them one day." Lucifer shrugged, aiming for nonchalance.

He turned away, busying himself with a stack of books he wanted to show his mate, missing the flare of emotion that passed across Alastor's face.

"Actually, I had this dream the other night. There was this little blonde girl, couldn't have been more than three or four. She had the cutest rosy cheeks, Al. You should have seen her." As Lucifer spoke, lost in his sweet memory, he finally caught a whiff of Alastor's scent.

It hit him like a punch to the gut—sharp, acrid, laced with distress and fury. He spun around, eyes wide.

His omega felt…threatened.

Alastor stood rigid, his smile fixed in place but his eyes blazing.

Lucifer's heart sank as he realized the enormity of his misstep. What he had intended as a loving gesture, a step towards building their life together, Alastor clearly saw as a peril.

"Al," Lucifer began, his voice tentative. "I didn't mean to—I thought—I hoped you'd be happy."

Confusion and hurt warred within Lucifer as he watched Alastor's carefully controlled expression.

"Happy?" Alastor's voice was brittle. "About what, precisely? The fact that you've decided to redecorate our home into a nursery without so much as a word to me?"

Lucifer's shoulders slumped. "That's not what I was trying to do," he said softly. "I just wanted to make this place feel like ours. I never meant to make you feel…trapped, or anything."

Alastor's laugh was sharp and humorless.

"Trapped? Oh no, darling. I'm simply…enlightened." His words dripped as he gestured to the baby thing scattered around the room. "Tell me, what exactly did you envision? A cozy little family, with me playing the doting mother?"

Lucifer felt a surge of defensiveness. "Is that so terrible?" he asked, his voice rising. "To want a family with you?"

Alastor's eyes narrowed.

"It is when it means surrendering everything I've fought for," he replied, his tone deceptively light. "My career, my independence, my very identity."

"That's not—you know that’s not what I’m going for, Al. I want us to build something together. We can do that, as equals." Lucifer ran a hand through his hair.

"Equals? How quaint." Alastor's smile was razor-sharp and thin. "And tell me, in this idyllic future of yours, which of us carries the child?"

The alpha felt a pang of guilt.

“And which of us starts losing gigs the moment we gain a pound?” The glint in Alastor’s eyes was nothing but malicious. “Which of us puts our career on hold to nurse a baby?”

“We’d figure it out. How to keep you on stage.” Lucifer insisted. “Together.”

"Oh, of course. We'll just 'figure it out.' How simple. How easy," Alastor's laugh was bitter, "for you."

As the tension in the room sky-rocketed, Lucifer realized with a sinking feeling that this wasn't just a minor little thing that would blow over.

Because Alastor wasn’t letting it.

It wasn’t the first time Lucifer had fumbled over some words and done something insensitive. Far from it. Usually, like all the other times Lucifer put his foot in his mouth, the omega helped deftly untangled what he said from what he meant and they could talk.

But…this time, Alastor wasn’t trying to defuse anything. It seemed like, he wanted to fight.

So, it was up to Lucifer to defuse the situation and calm them down.

Heaven help them both.

The alpha took a deep breath, forcing a crooked smile onto his face. "Come on, sweetheart," he said, his tone deliberately light as he reached for Alastor's hand. "Let's not get all worked up over this. How about we finish that gumbo and forget about all this baby talk, huh?"

Alastor yanked his hand away, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"No, Lucifer," he snapped, his voice sharp enough to cut. "We're not going to just brush this aside with a joke and a smile and falling into bed together."

The alpha's smile faltered, his attempt at levity crumbling in the face of Alastor's fury.

He'd never seen the omega like this before—all razor edges and barely contained contempt. It was as if a mask had slipped, revealing a side of Alastor he'd only glimpsed in fleeting moments.

"Al…" Lucifer started, his voice softening as he tried to understand. "I know you hate how the world treats you as an omega—but I didn't realize…I didn't know you felt this strongly about never having a family."

Alastor's laugh was cold and splintery. "Of course you didn't. You're an alpha. You've never had to consider the consequence of your fantasies. No matter what they are."

Lucifer felt a pang in his chest.

Despite his tough exterior, he'd always harbored a secret want for a family of his own. But seeing the pain and anger in Alastor's eyes, he knew he had to tread carefully.

"Alastor," he said softly, meeting the omega's gaze. "I would never force you to be some perfect little wife and happy homemaker. That's not who you are, and that's not what I want.”

A bit of tension eased from the omega’s shoulders. Then, the alpha just had to go put his foot back into his mouth.

“I just...I thought maybe we could have something different. Something that's ours."

Alastor's eyes flashed, his smile tightening into a grimace.

"Oh, is that right?" he hissed, taking a step towards Lucifer. “No, of course you wouldn't force me into it. No, barbarism isn’t really your style—you’re not exactly a battering ram of brutality.” his laugh was high and nerve-wracking. “You’re more a serpent, aren’t you? Cajoling me with that devil’s tongue of yours.”

“Whoa, okay, where did that come from?” Lucifer backed up, his hands raised placatingly.

He knew Alastor had a gift when it came to words. He’d seen his omega disarm a man with nothing more. He’d heard that velvety voice pulling him apart, undoing all his insecurities and knitting him back together with his love and affection.

But this. It was only vicious. 

“Oh, alpha. I can see it now, ” Alastor giggled, and that sound was far from sweet. It made the hairs raise along the back of Lucifer’s neck—like he was the one feeling threatened. “Sweet words and sweeter touches until I was eased into sacrificing what little autonomy I have left."

"No, Al, I wouldn't—"

But Alastor was relentless, closing the distance between them with predatory grace. His voice dropped to a seductive purr, a cruel parody of the voice he used on his mate when they were in bed.

"Tell me, Lucifer," he breathed, lips nearly brushing the alpha's ear. "Don't you think about it? Knocking me up, imagining what I'd look like heavy with your pups?"

Lucifer swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. He couldn't deny the forbidden fantasies that sometimes crept into his dreams—Alastor's lithe form swollen with life, the intoxicating scent of a pregnant omega. But he'd never—

"Lie to me, alpha, and say you don’t think about," Alastor continued ruthlessly, trailing a finger down Lucifer's chest. "How I would smell. How I would feel. How I would…taste"

The alpha's breath caught, torn between desire and the knowledge that this was all wrong. Alastor was contorting it all around. The omega’s eyes glittered with a mixture of anger and triumph.

"I won't lie to you, Al. I've…thought about it." He saw the omega's eyes flash dangerously and hurried on, "But I would never, ever make you have my pups. You know that."

"Make me, oh goodness no, " Alastor pressed, his tone deceptively light. "But even a male omega will eventually have a heat." His hazel eyes staring daggers. "What would you do then, alpha? Would you stay away? Or would you convince me to let you in? Promise me you could control yourself, and then—whoops, happy accidents do happen. "

Lucifer gaped, searching for the right words, knowing that any answer could be twisted against him. He'd never seen Alastor like this—all daggers and venom, using his charm as a weapon.

"I'd...do my best to respect your wishes. Always, Alastor."

A cruel laugh cut through the air, chilling him to his very core. Alastor stepped back, his smile a razor's edge.

"Oh, isn't that comforting," he sneered. "I suppose I've always known that my future, my body, my very life would all depend on what an alpha decides to do to me." His voice dripped with bitter sarcasm as he looked at his own, empty hand. “I thought...I'd escaped it. But it seems I'm still bound to a world where the alphas around me decide what I become.” Alastor clenched his fist. “Even though I married the one, good alpha."

The words stung like a physical blow.

“Alastor…” Lucifer felt his chest tighten, “I am that. That’s all I want to be. I swear. I’d never…not listen to you. Or what you want.”

The omega let out a heavy sigh.  “Then hear me now.” 

Alastor whirled around with an icy rage that was more terrifying than any scream. He lashed out, sending a stack of carefully arranged baby items crashing to the floor. The soft thud of stuffed animals hitting hardwood felt like a gunshot in the tense silence.

"I do not want children. I am not meant to be a mother." Alastor spat. His usual composure shattered. "I've spent decades of my life giving up little pieces of myself to every alpha who threatened me."

He gestured wildly at the scattered nursery items.

"I will not play incubator for nine months just to become a glorified handmaid for eighteen years!"

Lucifer stood frozen, watching helplessly as the omega he loved trembled with barely contained anger—fear. The blonde wanted to reach out, to comfort, but knew his touch would be unwelcome right now. And the dream he'd secretly nurtured—a little girl with blonde curls and rosy cheeks, her laughter echoing through their home—seemed to evaporate like mist in the harsh light of reality. He swallowed hard, fighting back the sting of tears.

"Alastor," he began, his voice hoarse.

"There…has to be," Suddenly, Alastor’s voice was breathless and broken. “There has to be some part of me that doesn’t have to be given to someone else. Even if that someone is you, Lucifer. I just want…something of mine to belong to me.”

“Alastor…please.”

But the omega was already moving, snatching up his coat with jerky movements. "I'm going to work," Alastor snapped, his usual smooth demeanor fractured.

Instinctively, Lucifer stepped forward. "Let me walk you to the club, at least."

Alastor's eyes flashed dangerously. "I can do it myself," he hissed. "And I'll walk myself home. I don't need an alpha hovering over my every move."

The door slammed, leaving Lucifer alone in the suddenly oppressive silence of their home. He sank onto the couch, surrounded by the remnants of his shattered domestic dream. His fingers brushed against a tiny knitted duck, and he picked it up, turning it over in his hands.

"There’s still part of him," he murmured, his brow furrowed in confusion and pain. “that’s afraid of me.”

🎶I want your love, don’t wanna borrow

Have it today to give back tomorrow

Your love is my love

There’s no love for nobody else🎶

🎙️"Live fast, live bold, and don’t look back. Frank Sinatra’s ‘I’m Gonna Live Till I Die’ is on its way, and the pulse is quickening."🎙️

🍒 On Ao3☕Read on Ream☕On Tumblr 🍒

[darcydarlingdabbles]

Update: Ugh, I hate to do this, but I’m pausing uploading fics to deal with a death in the family.

Writing fic helps me deal with stress…but not grief.

Hope to be back to the words soon 🩷

[darcydarlingdabbles]

🎙️✨ Until the Devil’s Last Dance ✨🎙️  Part 21

🍒 On Ao3☕Read on Ream☕On Tumblr 🍒

Fools Rush In (Where Angels Fear to Tread) by Frank Sinatra

🎙️“Loving someone is never as simple as it seems. When emotions blur the lines, fools often rush into places they don’t understand, unaware of the consequences. Tonight, it’s a balancing act between love and freedom, but be warned—all choices have a cost.”🎙️

🎶Fools rush in where wise men never go

But wise men never fall in love

So how are they to know🎵

The smoky haze of the Rising Sun club swirled around Lucifer as he nursed his apple brandy, eyes fixed on the stage. 

Alastor's voice, smooth as velvet and sharp as a knife, cut through the din of the crowd.

His mate was in his element.

Lucifer's lips quirked in a small smile. He'd never tire of watching Alastor perform, even if his own role at the club had been...diminished. Valentino's ‘job offer’ had turned out to be little more than busywork in the kitchen. Like he expected Lucifer to just go home after being downgraded to prep cook.

Still, the alpha wasn't here to make trouble. Just to watch, and drink, and bask in the glow of his omega's talent. Before they went back home. 

Those words just made him warm all over again. Like some long forgotten hearth in him was finally getting the warmth of a fire. 

"Excuse me," a sultry voice interrupted his thoughts. "Is this seat taken?"

Lucifer didn't look up, his gaze still locked on Alastor. "I'm waiting for someone," he replied automatically.

"I think," the woman said, a hint of amusement in her tone. “You might just be waiting for me."

That caught Lucifer's attention.

A bemused denial was on his lips as he turned, ready to politely explain that no, he was waiting for his mate, when the sight of her stopped him cold.

She was...breathtaking. 

Blonde hair cascaded over bare shoulders, framing a face that seemed almost familiar–though he didn’t know how he knew her. Her curves were accentuated by a deep purple dress that left little to the imagination, and her smile...her smile made his stomach flip and his chest ache. 

Like he’d downed a bottle of brandy in one go. 

Lucifer swallowed hard, suddenly aware that he'd been staring. "I–I'm sorry," he managed, feeling his face heat in a way Alastor would tease him for. "I don't think I we’ve met."

The woman's smile widened, a knowing glint in her eye. "Oh, are you certain about that?" she purred, sliding into the seat across from him without waiting for an invitation. “I’m certain we have.”

Lucifer's brow furrowed. 

The alpha couldn't remember, but then again, his memory was still frustratingly patchy. 

On stage, Alastor's song reached its crescendo, but for once, Lucifer barely noticed. 

His world had narrowed to this mysterious woman and the unsettling longing she stirred within him—along with a crippling, agonizing guilt. 

Where the fuck did that feeling come from?

 Lucifer's hand trembled slightly as he stuck it out to shake, fumbling and awkward in the strange cocktail of emotions churning in his gut. 

"I'm Lucifer," he said, his voice  weak as the smile he forced. How did  Alastor make it look so easy? "It's... a pleasure to meet you. Again, apparently."

The woman's eyes flickered with an emotion Lucifer couldn't quite place–disappointment? Resignation? It was gone in an instant, replaced by that same sultry smile. 

"You can call me Lili," she said, taking his hand.

As their palms met, Lucifer felt a jolt of...something. Recognition? Longing? He couldn't be sure.

 All he knew was that she stirred something deep within him, something he thought he'd forgotten.

But still couldn’t quite remember.

"Lili," he repeated, tasting the name on his tongue. It felt right, somehow. Familiar. "I'm sorry, but…have we really met before? I feel like I would remember someone like you."

Lilith's laugh was musical, tinged with a hint of sadness. "Oh, we go way back, Luci. But don't worry your pretty little head about it. Sometimes it's better not to remember."

Lucifer frowned, shifting in his seat so the cracked vinyl protested under him. This Lilith was acting a little too familiar for his comfort—and he was sure his shifting to get some space between them wasn’t subtle.

 "What do you mean by that?" he asked, taking a sip of his drink that was mostly ice now. "I've been trying to piece together since—I can’t remember. If you know something—"

"Now, let's not dwell on the past." Lilith interrupted, placing a finger on his lips. The touch sent shivers down Lucifer's spine—before he realized what he was doing and he jerked back. "Tell me about now. What brings a handsome devil like you to a place like this?" she asked, her touch lingering.

”I’m here seeing someone,” Lucifer blurted, his face heating. “I mean, I’m seeing someone. Who is also here. Actually.”

“Oh? Is that so?” As she slowly withdrew her hand, Lucifer felt an inexplicable sense of loss.

“Yeah, I’m mated—married actually. To the man at the piano.” The alpha said, a smile coming to his face as he gestured to Alastor up on the stage.

“Is that so?” Lilith lifted her head, her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized his omega.

Lucifer lifted his chest a bit, his protective instincts flaring.

 Before Lilith turned that accident gaze on him. “And, he makes you happy?” 

Lucifer turned towards Alastor, thinking of all the confusion, frustration, surprises, and joys of being on this crazy ride with his brilliant ornery omega. 

Al these things he was sure he’d never feel again.

“More than anything.” Lucifer smiled. 

He saw something tug at the corner of Lilith’s full lips. “Well, I suppose time does heal all wounds.”

Suddenly, a sharp pain lanced through Lucifer's temple. He winced, bringing his hand up to rub at the spot. "Ah, damn," he muttered, closing his eyes briefly.

"Are you alright?" Lilith's voice was infused with genuine concern.

Lucifer forced a smile, trying to shake off the discomfort. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just an old war wound acting up. Gets me sometimes, you know?"

Lilith's eyebrow arched skeptically. "I wasn't aware you'd been in a war, Lucifer."

“Everyone was touched by the war,” He chuckled nervously, "Left me with some nasty headaches, bad dreams, and a Swiss cheese memory." He trailed off, shrugging helplessly. “Probably why I don’t remember meeting you. No offense.”

"Hmm," Lilith murmured, her eyes traveling down to his exposed forearms, where he was rubbing at his temple. "Speaking of things you might not remember, those are quite interesting tattoos you have there."

Lucifer glanced down at his arms, the familiar swirling patterns staring back at him.

 He'd spent countless hours tracing those lines, trying to figure out why the hell he got them, but they never started making sense to him.

"May I?" Lilith asked, reaching for his hand. 

Without waiting for a response, she gently took hold of his fingers, turning them this way and that to examine the intricate designs.

 "Fascinating. How did you come by these?"

Lucifer swallowed hard, embarrassment and frustration warring within him.

 He didn't want to admit his ignorance, especially not to this captivating woman who seemed to know so much about him. But something in her eyes, a glimmer of understanding perhaps, made him want to be honest. To see if maybe she had some answers.

"I wish I knew," he confessed softly. "They were there when I…when I woke up. No idea how I got them or what they mean."

Lilith's eyes sparkled with intrigue as she traced a delicate finger along the swirling pattern on Lucifer's knuckles. His fingers flexed as he itched to pull away.

"Where do you think this design came from?" she asked, her voice soft and melodious.

Lucifer shrugged, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. "I'm pretty sure it's just random."

She chuckled, a rich, velvety sound that reminded him of Alastor. Not the high, fake laugh he used to tease and beguile. The real one. The soft chuckle he got when they were tangled together, warm and spent, and Lucifer tried to get one of those exhausted little smiles.

  "Not all languages look like letters, you know.” Lilith hummed. “Some are older than that. And much more powerful."

“I have…no idea what you’re talking about”

Lilith's smile widened. "Let's just say there's something more to you than meets the eye, Lucifer. Much more."

♫ ♫ ♫ 

Alastor was in the middle of his performance. His fingers danced across the piano keys, but his mind was elsewhere.

 His gaze kept drifting to the booth where Lucifer sat with a curvaceous blonde woman.

A hot, ugly feeling bubbled up in Alastor's chest as he watched the woman's hand linger on Lucifer's arm. His fingers stumbled over a chord, the dissonant notes barely noticeable to the audience. 

But glaringly obvious to him.

He tried to focus on the music, but his eyes kept darting back to the pair. The woman leaned in close, whispering something that made Lucifer laugh.

 Alastor's jaw clenched, his fingers striking the keys with more force than necessary.

Because, as foolish as he was when it came to his short alpha, Alastor was not an idiot.

This woman wanted his mate.  

And Alastor would not say he was jealous. 

Because he wasn’t. He was far too good for that. Too sophisticated.

Such a vulgar emotion was beneath him. He was better than some possessive alpha that grabbed their mate in public whenever someone looked too long. 

Above such base instincts.

But try as he might, Alastor couldn't shake the greedy feeling that clawed at his insides. 

The omega was becoming…familiar with his darker urges. But they felt different—justified in the light of all the cruelty that had been inflicted on him and his kind.

 This jealousy was uglier, more primal.

With a herculean effort, Alastor tore his gaze away from Lucifer and the blonde woman.

 He closed his eyes, letting the music wash over him, using it to drown out this clawing monster roaring in his chest. Slowly, he regained his composure, his fingers once again gliding effortlessly over the keys.

As the last notes of his song rang out, Alastor opened his eyes, a practiced smile plastered on his face. But inside, a storm was brewing, and he knew this feeling wouldn't go away easily.

🎶 Fools rush in where angels fear to tread

And so I come to you, my love, my heart above my head🎶

Alastor made his way through the smoky club, his steps measured and deliberate. His eyes locked onto Lucifer, still engrossed in conversation with the blonde woman. The sight sent a fresh wave of irritation through him, but he maintained his composure, his signature smile never faltering.

"Darling," Alastor purred as he reached the booth, his voice dripping with honey-coated venom. "Won't you introduce me to this new…acquaintance of yours?"

Lucifer looked up, his face brightening at the sight of Alastor. "Alastor, of course! I'm sorry, I've forgotten your name," he said, turning to the woman with an apologetic smile.

She chuckled, a rich, melodious sound that grated on Alastor's nerves. She reached out, grasping Alastor's hand with surprising strength. 

"It's Lilith," she said, her eyes boring into Alastor's with an intensity that caught him off guard.

Something visceral in him flared, putting more than his omega instincts on alert. 

 He held her gaze, refusing to back down. The air between them crackled with tension, a silent battle of wills that Lucifer seemed oblivious to.

"A pleasure," Alastor said, his voice saccharine. He turned to Lucifer, his smile softening slightly. "Darling, would you be a dear and fetch me a drink? I'm parched after my set."

Lucifer glanced between Alastor and Lilith, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. "Sure sweetheart. The usual?"

"Please," Alastor nodded, his eyes never leaving Lilith as Lucifer stood to leave.

As his alpha’s footsteps faded into the din of the club, Alastor's smile sharpened, his eyes narrowing as he regarded Lilith. 

The tension between them was palpable, crackling like static electricity in the air.

"You certainly seem to be making quite the impression on my alpha. Batting those lovely eyelashes, are we?" Alastor drawled, his voice low and dangerous.

Lilith let out a throaty chuckle, her eyes glinting with amusement. "Your alpha?" she asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "How... quaint."

As she spoke, Alastor noticed a subtle shift in the air around her. And he could have sworn he saw a flicker across her eyes. But Alastor stood his ground, unfazed by the display.

🎵Though I see the danger there

If there’s a chance for me, then I don’t care🎵

“I assure you, it is far from.” The brunette said softly, with complete certainty. “I am his, and he is mine. Simple as that.”

“An audacious little thing, aren’t you?” Lilith leaned forward, her voice taking on a lecturing tone. "You know, while your kind were still learning to walk on dry land, I—"

"My kind?" Alastor interrupted, folding his arms across his chest. His smile never wavered, but there was an edge to it now. "I'm curious, dear. To which 'kind' are you referring? My primary sex? My secondary gender? Or perhaps," he paused, his eyes glinting dangerously, "the color of my skin?"

Lilith blinked, clearly taken aback by Alastor's bold interruption. The aura around her dissipated, and a look of genuine surprise crossed her face.

"None of the above, actually," she said, her tone softening slightly. "I must say, I'm impressed by your gall. It’s not often that people stand up to me."

“I shall take that as a compliment.” He maintained his composure, his smile never faltering.

Lilith's gaze swept over Alastor, her eyes narrowing as if she could peer into his very soul. A slow, knowing smile spread across her face.

"You know," she mused, her voice a silky purr, "you could be a great and terrible thing one day."

Alastor's expression tightened, a mixture of intrigue and wariness coursing through him. Before he could respond, Lilith's eyes darted over his shoulder. Alastor sensed Lucifer's approach before he saw him.

Lilith leaned in close, her breath tickling Alastor's ear. "Just don't make my mistakes," she whispered urgently. "Don't lose sight of what you love."

A chill ran down Alastor's spine. He opened his mouth to question her cryptic warning, but Lucifer's cheerful voice cut through the tension.

"Here's your drink, sweetheart!"

Alastor turned to his alpha, momentarily distracted by the warmth in Lucifer's eyes. When he looked back, the booth was empty. 

Lilith had vanished without a trace.

♫ ♫ ♫ 

The predawn light cast a pale glow over New Orleans as Lucifer fumbled with the key to their home. 

He could feel the tension radiating off Alastor in waves, his mate's scent vinegary with irritation. As they stepped inside, Lucifer turned to his omega, concern etching his features.

"Rough night?" he asked softly, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from Alastor's forehead. "How about I draw you a nice hot bath?"

Alastor's eyes flashed, a mix of emotions Lucifer couldn't quite decipher. "A bath sounds divine," he replied, voice clipped. "We should both have one. To wash off the stench of the unwashed masses."

Lucifer blinked up at him. 

 Normally when Alastor was in this mood, when he smelled sharp and unwelcoming, he preferred not to have Lucifer all over him. 

"I can always take one later if you'd like some space."

"No," Alastor said firmly, gripping Lucifer's arm. "Together."

As they made their way to the bathroom, Alastor was practically glued to his side, which was only adding to Lucifer’s growing worry. It was a far cry from his usually aloof demeanor. 

While Lucifer ran the water, Alastor hovered nearby, his scent a confusing mix of irritation and…something else the blonde alpha didn’t recognize. And he was always trying to figure out what was behind his mate’s perfect smiles. 

"Al," Lucifer ventured, testing the water temperature, "is everything alright? You seem…on edge."

Alastor's smile tightened. But then he rolled his hazel eyes and leaned in. 

"I'm just feeling rather…amorous," he purred, drawing a hand along through Lucifer’s mussed hair and down his jaw. “I’m surprised you didn’t already know, my clever alpha.” but the words didn't match the acrid note in his scent.

Lucifer turned his head to press a kiss into his omega’s palm and frowned, torn between concern and confusion.

 "Sweetheart, I can smell that you're upset. Did something happen at the club? Was it those handsy alphas again?"

“Ha, no.” Alastor gave a snort. “I was not the focus of such fixated attention at the end of the night.”

“You weren’t? Since when?” The alpha murmured, clearly feeling like he was missing something and knowing that his enigmatic mate wasn’t fond of elaborating. 

Lucifer's brow furrowed as realization dawned. "Wait a minute…Alastor, are you…jealous?"

“Jealous? Of what, pray tell?” Alastor's eyes narrowed, his smile turned to a grimace. "That blonde bombshell fawning all over you?"

"Fawning? She was just being friendly," Lucifer protested, but Alastor's scoff cut him off.

"Friendly? Please. She was practically devouring you with her eyes." Alastor's voice dripped with disdain, his arms folded as he sat on the edge of the tub, radiating irritation. "And you, my dear alpha, seemed to quite enjoy her attentions."

Lucifer shook his head, bewildered. "Al, I'm half a foot shorter than most alphas, and more ink than skin at this point. Why would someone like that be interested in me?"

Alastor's laugh was harsh, and it took his next words for Lucifer to realize how badly he’d just fucked up. 

“I am interested in you. What does that make me?”

Lucifer felt his eyes go comically wide. He didn’t…that wasn’t…he didn’t want to imply. 

“Alastor, I didn’t–that’s not what I meant.”

“No, but it is what you said.” The omega’s voice was still haughty, his arms folded. Until he turned a fierce, determined gaze on Lucifer. That almost made the much stronger alpha want to crumble. “Luckily, I do know you well enough to realize when you don’t think before you speak.”

The blonde let out a little breath, realizing he was gripping the edge of the tub where he stood next to Alastor.

Lucifer opened his mouth, an apology on his tongue–but his mate wasn’t finished with him yet. 

 "Is your self-esteem truly so abysmal as to make you blind to your own appeal?” The omega asked, that perfectly smooth voice low and entirely captivating as he rounded on Lucifer, cornering him against the tub with a ferocity that was as arousing and slightly terrifying. “Then you are a fool, and a devastatingly attractive one.”

Lucifer blinked, taken aback by the backhanded compliment. “I…uh…thank you I–”

“I’m not done.” Alastor said, fixing Lucifer with an intense stare. “I felt it the moment I laid eyes on you, and I despise most alphas on principle." 

He paused, his long fingers splayed over the tight t-shirt the alpha wore. Lucifer could feel his heart hammering under Alastor’s palm. 

“If that weren’t enough–the way you treat me.” the laugh that bubbled out of him was genuine in its affection, tinged with a surprise and relief that was heartbreaking. “With such devastating goodness that I could never deserve.”

“Alastor, baby, you do deserve—” Lucifer’s protests were cut off with a hand cupping his cheek and a thumb pressed to his lips. 

“Any mate would be fortunate to have you.” Alastor reassured him with such sincerity that Lucifer could feel his love for this man in every fiber of his being. 

He had no idea what to say to that, not a word came to his mind that could match Alastor’s speech. 

“And…” A different smirk came to his mate’s lips, that cause a thrill of desire through Lucifer. “If a pretty blonde in a tight dress can so cloud your mind…perhaps, I need to more thoroughly express my appreciation of you.”

Lucifer was about to ask what he meant by that, when the omega got on his knees in front of him. 

"Al, you don't have to—" Lucifer caught Alastor's shoulders, searching his face. Trying to figure out what thought had gotten in his head.  

"I want to," Alastor insisted, his usual smirk tinged with something almost vulnerable. "I want to please you tonight, alpha. Let me."

Warmth bloomed in Lucifer's chest, affection mingling with eagerness. "Pleasing my obstinate omega pleases me, more than anything," he said softly, stroking Alastor's cheek.

A flicker of frustration crossed Alastor's features. "There must be something more you desire. Tell me, and I'll provide it. Anything."

"Listen," Lucifer said softly. "Cause it seems like you’ve got an idea in your head–but I only have eyes for you, Alastor."

A pleased flush colored Alastor's cheeks, but he quickly masked it with an exasperated huff. "What a ridiculously romantic notion."

Lucifer grinned, some of the tension dissipating. "Well, what can I say? I'm a ridiculous romantic."

Alastor rolled his eyes, but his smile softened. "It's foolish, utterly foolish."

"Then let this fool rush in," Lucifer murmured, leaning in to capture Alastor's lips.

♫ ♫ ♫ 

Alastor watched from the bathroom counter as Lucifer began to undress.

His gaze traced the familiar lines of his alpha's body, the swirling tattoos that marked his arms and legs. The way his wings flexed and moved with skin and muscle as he finally turned off the taps to their steaming bath. 

“It seems we were both fools tonight.” Alastor murmured.

“Hmm?” the blonde asked as he turned back to his mate, crooked smile back on his face. 

Alastor’s own expression was soft, knowing he’d put his alpha through a few hoops tonight, and that he was about to toss another. 

“You know…you don’t constantly have to prove your worth, either, Lucifer.” The alpha froze, his back to the omega. The steam in the bathroom making his inked wings look like they could actually flutter. “And, if you need reassurance of that, I’ll provide it. Gladly.”

He could see the flush creeping up the alpha’s neck that had nothing to do with the heat of the water. 

But when Lucifer turned, he had that cocky, half-grin on his face. Alastor wasn’t the only one who found comfort behind a mask. 

 “Y’know what I really need, right now, sweetheart.” 

The omega chuckled as his alpha invaded his space, standing between his long legs. 

“What might that be?” 

“I need you to let me take care of you.” Lucifer murmured against Alastor’s lips. “Will you let me?”

"Yes," Alastor replied simply, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "But don’t think I’m done with you yet."

Lucifer let out a soft groan, ducking his head so his forehead bumped against the omega’s chest. “Al, c’mon.”

“I know darling, I know.” Alastor slid his fingers into the hair at the back of his alpha’s head, the golden strands silken through his fingers. “Just for a moment.”

He heard Lucifer sigh, then nod his head.

Alastor gripped his alpha’s hair, unable to force him to lift his head, but able to get to his ear. “You are a good alpha Lucifer, a wonderful mate,”

Alastor felt Lucifer shiver in his hold.

“and you are more than worthy of being loved.”

The alpha surged forward, sealing their lips together in a consuming kiss. He wasn’t fooling Alastor, by any stretch, but the omega allowed the distraction. He said what he needed to say. What needed to be heard.

Lucifer's hands were gentle yet possessive as they helped Alastor out of his own clothes.

As they slipped into the warm bath together, Alastor felt a wave of comfort wash over him. Lucifer's arms encircled him, strong and secure. 

The gentle lapping of water against skin filled the silence as Lucifer's fingers traced lazy patterns along Alastor's arms. 

With each caress, Alastor felt a warmth spreading through him that had little to do with the bathwater. Their mingled scents, amplified by the steam, enveloped him.

"Darling," Alastor purred, tilting his head to catch Lucifer's gaze. "I find myself in quite the predicament."

"What's wrong?" Lucifer's brow furrowed.

"Nothing's wrong," Alastor replied, a wicked glint in his eye as he shifted to straddle Lucifer's lap. "I'm simply in terrible need of your attention."

Lucifer's hands instinctively gripped Alastor's hips, “You know always know exactly what to say, don’t you?”

“Mm, it’s a gift.” Alastor purred, gasping softly as he felt Lucifer’s hand sliding up between his thighs, stroking over his entrance and finding his clit. 

“Sweetheart, with the water, you might not be wet enough.” The alpha said gently. “I don't want to hurt you—"

“I’m not asking you to be gentle right now.” Alastor silenced him with a smirk on his own lips. 

A low sound rumbled in Lucifer's chest. “You’re sure?”

 "My dear, I assure you, I will let you know if there’s something I can’t handle. Take care of me." He leaned in, his lips brushing Lucifer's ear. "And take me."

Lucifer’s answering growl heated Alastor right to his very core. 

The omega thrilled as his alpha grabbed him, sloshing water over the edges of the tub as he pushed the omega back, demanding space between his thighs. 

Alastor leaned back, propping his legs on either side of the tub. As if his mate needed more of an invitation to take. Lucifer’s lips were at his neck, leaving marks along his throat as until he wrapped around his mating gland. Sucking until the skin was pink and inflamed. 

He was soaked when fingers roughly pushed inside him. The porcelain was cool against his calves, a stark contrast to the heat building under his skin.

Alastor gripped Lucifer’s hair–giving a sharp tug to ask for more. 

His alpha indulged him at once and moved between his thighs, strong hands gripping the edges of the tub as the blunt head of his cock notched at his entrance. 

Alastor hissed, the stretch bordering on pain, but his head began to swim pleasantly. "Don't you dare stop," he demanded, voice husky with desire.

"You're so tight," Lucifer murmured as he pressed forward. Filling his omega completely. 

Water sloshed over the edge of the tub as Lucifer complied, setting a rhythm that had Alastor seeing stars. The slight burn, the fullness—it was exactly what he craved.

His head was already hazy. His thought sluggish and any worry of that possessive little monster vanished as Lucifer fucked him. Sending half of their bathwater onto the floor. Alastor’s blunt nails curled along the back of the alpha’s neck, leaving scratches that spurred his mate to drive harder into him. Faster. Until they were both panting.

As the waves of pleasure crested, Alastor's body tensed, his fingers digging into Lucifer's shoulders. With a choked gasp, he came undone, shuddering against his alpha. 

Lucifer’s garbled curse as their teeth clashed together letting his mate know he wasn’t far behind. 

As the aftershocks rippled through Alastor, a dawning realization cut through the haze in his head and the thrumming in his body.

 Something was missing.

Alastor's eyes snapped open, meeting Lucifer's gaze. "You didn't knot me," he said, unable to keep the accusation from his voice.

Lucifer's expression was more amusement than apology. "It wouldn’t really be comfortable in the bath. But I promise, later—"

"Later?" Alastor interrupted, frustration bubbling up inside him. He could feel Lucifer's knot pressed against him, tantalizingly close but not where he desperately wanted it. "You can't be serious."

Lucifer chuckled, but quickly sobered at Alastor's glare. 

"I'm sorry, baby. I shoulda said before—let me make it up to you." He pressed a gentle kiss to Alastor's forehead, but the omega gave a baleful sound as he felt the alpha’s cock withdrawing far too soon. 

As they rose from the cooling bathwater, Alastor felt distinctly unsatisfied. The alpha's release inside him without the accompanying knot left him feeling oddly bereft. 

He was, irritated. To say the least.

Which was comical, he’d admit only to himself, when he thought of how he used to fear the stretch of an alpha’s knot tying them together. 

He wrapped a towel around himself, lips pursed in a tight line.

Lucifer ruffled a towel over his head, his hair a damp mess of golden locks—but even the adorable sight did not molify the miffed omega. 

His eyes kept darting to the alpha’s cock, his swollen knot already shrinking without anything to tie, like the omega had been denied his favorite treat. And was now being teased with it just out of reach. 

Seeming to sense his mate's disgruntlement, turned to him with a mischievous and irritating little smirk. "Now, don't pout.”

“I am not pouting,” Alastor pouted, his arms folded over his chest. And his thighs pressed together against the empty feeling between them. 

 “I did say I'd make it up to you, didn't I?" Lucifer reached out, cupping Alastor's face. 

Despite his irritation, Alastor felt a flutter of anticipation. "Oh? And what, pray tell, did you have in mind?"

With a fluid motion that belied his strength, Lucifer lifted Alastor onto the bathroom counter. The cool marble against his skin made Alastor gasp, but the sound was quickly swallowed by a moan as Lucifer spread his legs wide.

"What are you—" Alastor's question died on his lips as Lucifer's tongue found its mark.

The alpha's ministrations were exquisite, his skilled mouth working with practiced ease. And after the rough fuck in the tub, the omega found his pussy was left particularly sensitive. He felt raw. Still aching with want.

Alastor's hands flew to Lucifer's hair, gripping tightly at the feeling.

"Sweet omega," Lucifer purred, pulling back for only a moment. "I love it when you taste like me."

The realization of what Lucifer was doing—tasting his own come inside of Alastor—sent a jolt of arousal through the omega. 

It was filthy, debauched, and utterly bewitching.

"Don't stop," Alastor gasped, his usual composure shattered. "Please, alpha."

Lucifer chuckled, the sound vibrating through him. 

As Lucifer resumed his attentions, Alastor felt the familiar coil of pleasure building rapidly. His alpha's skill was undeniable, and the sheer eroticism of the act pushed the omega towards the edge with dizzying speed.

With a cry that echoed off the tiled walls, Alastor came. His body shuddered as waves of ecstasy washed over him, Lucifer's name a reverent mantra on his lips.

Slick and come gushed down his thighs. Just to be lapped up by his mate. 

As the aftershocks subsided, Alastor gazed down at his alpha, a mixture of awe and adoration in his eyes. "You are…remarkably good at that."

"I aim to please." Lucifer grinned. Without warning, he scooped Alastor into his arms, the omega's legs wrapping around his shoulders.

"What are you doing now?" Alastor laughed.

"Taking you to bed," Lucifer replied, his steps sure as he carried Alastor the short distance to their bedroom. "I'm not finished with you yet."

Alastor thrilled as he was tossed onto their bed, his towel long since gone as his alpha climbed over him. 

"Do you still want a knot, sweetheart?" Lucifer's voice was husky, tinged with both concern and barely restrained desire.

"Yes, always" Alastor gasped, his usual eloquence abandoning him.

“Well, I have something almost as good.” The alpha purred. 

Alastor didn’t have time to lean up on his elbows and ask what he was doing. He felt fingers at his entrance, more than Lucifer had ever used to ease him open, and just left his thumb flicking over the omega’s clit.

“Think you can take a little more?” Lucifer asked, his voice low, just at the edge of a growl.

Alastor was already panting at the thought. But he nodded. Eagerly.

He felt the alpha pull his hand back, positioning his fingers and thumb tight together, before slowly sinking the entirety of his hand into the omega.

Alastor's back arched off the bed.

The sensation teetered on the edge of too much, his nerves singing with pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. Chills were tingling across his entire body.

The alpha’s knot was bigger, he knew that, but he could hear every lewd sound his body made. Feel every digit move as he was stretched so deliciously.

A strangled moan escaped Alastor’s throat.

"You alright?" Lucifer paused, leaning over to see the omega’s face.

“Yes.” Alastor gasped out, his legs trembling as they clutched at Lucifer’s other arm. It took a moment, to compose himself enough and relax his legs. "It's perfect. Fuck."

Lucifer began to move, slowly sinking into him to the wrist and nearly pulling out all the way. Again and again. And Alastor lost himself in the rhythm and the stretch.

It was like being fucked by a knot. And every drag sent pleasure coursing through his body.

Alastor was vaguely aware that he was clinging to Lucifer. Letting his alpha play him like a fiddle. Every move of his hand making the omega gush with slick, obscenely wet.

Alastor cried out. The fullness, the connection, the overwhelming sense of belonging—it was everything he needed. Lucifer swallowed every sound. Like he was just as greedy for every ounce of his omega’s pleasure.

♫ ♫ ♫ 

As they lay tangled together in the aftermath, their breathing slowly steadying, Alastor marveled at the play of soft light across Lucifer's skin. The shadows danced, accentuating the swirls of his tattoos.

Lucifer's fingers traced lazy patterns across Alastor's skin, following the gentle curves and dips of his body. His touch was feather-light, almost reverent, as if mapping out a precious treasure.

"You're staring," Lucifer murmured, a smile in his voice.

Alastor huffed softly. "You're worth staring at."

Lucifer huffed, his pale cheeks tinging pink. “Who’s the ridiculous romantic now?”

Alastor chuckled softly. “Then let this fool rush in.” He quipped the words back.

As Lucifer pulled him close, Alastor made a silent vow. He would walk this tightrope, balancing love and bloodlust, affection and autonomy. It wouldn't be easy, but then again, nothing worth having ever was.

🎶When we met, I felt my life begin

So open up your heart and let this fool rush in🎵

🎙️"It’s a simple question—love me, or leave me. Nina Simone’s quintessential question is next."🎙️

🍒 On Ao3☕Read on Ream☕On Tumblr 🍒

[darcydarlingdabbles]

Making Alastor do the things first

❣️Ao3❣️Original Fics (1 Year Free)❣️BlueSky❣️Ko-fi❣️

🔥Spoiler alert for Falling for the Morningstars 🔥

Let’s talk about how I characterize Alastor in this fic—and the rule I set for myself when writing this fic:

Alastor does the things first.

Why? Well, mostly because I read a lot of RadioApple fanfic (bless this ship), and there’s a recurring trend: Alastor as a shy, sexually inexperienced, emotionally repressed bottom, and Lucifer as the suave, ancient Dom who sweeps him off his feet.

 And guess what, there's nothing  wrong with that at all—seriously, I write every dynamic under the sun for these two.

And as I am constantly saying, Fanfic is like playing with Barbies. You cannot do it the wrong way. 

 So, for Falling for the Morningstars, I wanted to ask.. what if?

🧠 What if I flipped the tropes?

What if Alastor wasn’t the inexperienced, emotionally constipated one? What if Lucifer, despite being older, was the one with less sexual experience and absoutely no game?

To me, it still makes perfect character sense.

Lucifer, in this universe, fell in love with the first human woman he saw—and that was it. His love is monogamous and loyal and kind of tragic. It's perfectly reasonable, in my mind, to assume that he wasn't spending the eons out here sowing wild oats. That he was not a suave seducer; he’s devoted, a little awkward, and deeply depressed.

Alastor, on the other hand? He craves chaos—but only the kind he causes. He’s all about control. 

And in canon, he’s surprisingly touchy with characters like Niffty, Husk, and Charlie—people he either controls or wants to control. He’s physically affectionate when it serves his purposes—not out of affection, but because touch is power.

We know Alastor is a tormenter...but me personally? I’m not into sadism. 

I get way too emotionally attached to my characters to enjoy writing pain—giving or receiving. (Emotional pain? Entirely different story. Break these boys open like glow sticks, I live for that.) 

But physical pain? Nope.. 

That’s why, instead of writing Alastor as someone who inflicts pain for pleasure, I had him draw a comparison between pleasure and torture—not because he’s cruel, but because control feels the same to him in both situations. 

Whether he’s causing bliss or drawing blood, what matters to Alastor is that he’s in charge. The reactions are his. The victim is his to play like another instrament. 

I could go on a whole tangent about writing him as Ace and still a Dom/Top—but that’s a post for another day. 

And...as for this version of Alastor's emotional intelligence and experience? Well… lyou’ll have to keep reading Falling for the Morningstars to see what happens next. 

—Darcy Darling 🖤

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