#bambilu

Get them 20% off when you get them as a set ! Discount only available until Aug 1st !

They will still be in the shop separately afterwards !

Notes:

Fun fact, it's quite common to have a reduced libido when depressed and disassociated. Everyone's experience of depression is slightly different but I feel like, in the case of Lucifer, the security of repairing his relationship with Charlie and getting engagement from Alastor could feasibly work to kick start his allosexual libido again. Security and engagement certainly kick started my ability to write again, maybe it works for allo libidos too xP

Now, I'm not gonna lie, a lot of Alastor's AroAce presentation here is gonna just be a bit of a mix of my own traits and my partner's. AroAce is a spectrum and there are many reasons for someone to have little to no interest in sex or little to no romantic attraction. Some of them will be represented here, some will not.

Sometimes it's because the physical sensory inputs feel different for an AroAce compared to allosexuals. For example, I find most sexual acts gross and all contact mildly uncomfortable (except for firm contact like massages, for some reason, I will melt under a massage and I only give tight hugs) and my partner has only gotten me off once in 11 years, and not because they don't wanna, it's because I don't wanna. But that doesn't mean I don't enjoy getting my partner off for other reasons when they want it, reasons like making my partner feel good and happy. I get joy from servicing my beloved even if I don't personally enjoy contact.

Sometimes it's the environment/scenario, sometimes it's the person/people involved, sometimes it's past experiences, sometimes it's un-fucking-known. This is just one in 10 billion ways an AroAce individual may respond to discovering the specific conditions or triggers that allow them to engage with another person in sexual interaction or find some enjoyment in it.

Fascinating.

Alastor prodded lightly at the edge of the wound on his chest, examining the thin layer of gleaming gold plating that lined the gaping insides of his open flesh. The pain had returned when he awoke, but it wasn't even remotely close to the agony that had driven him to drink and smoke in the mornings just to take the edge off its bite.

When pressing on the sides didn't hurt too much, he stuck his finger inside to trace the smooth metallic material coating its walls. It felt slightly hard against his finger—even though it bent when he removed the digit and raised his arm—keeping his wound from widening without limiting his movement.

So that was why Lucifer hadn’t bothered with stitches. His smile widened into a grin at the thought of the little King. Despite the discomfort of having his weaknesses exposed and being off-balance from the unlikely offer of alliance, as well as the clear sexual interest from the devil himself, Alastor couldn't help but feel pleased with this turn of events.

Covering his injury with a fresh bandage, he left the vanity's side and began his usual morning preparations. Finding a shirt from his wardrobe and a pair of pants from his drawer, he got started dressing for the day, humming to himself as he buttoned his shirt.

Things were looking up.

He was free, had a path to recovery, had his power and place as the strongest in Hell restored by Rosie, had kicked Vox down a peg or twelve, and even had a delectable offer on the table made by the King of Hell himself. His Majesty was so adorably bad at this, enough for Alastor to wonder how many, if any, deals Lucifer had made in his thousands of years of existence.

He'd probably ask for exceptions, and Alastor would get to command Lucifer's power in only a select few scenarios, but even so, the thought of having the King of Hell on his leash was nothing short of tantalising. The idea of pulling the strings of something so unimaginably powerful, entertaining, and delicious.

Alastor had never been one to get his hopes up, but he couldn’t quite help the sheer want, the hunger swelling within his chest.

Besides, it wasn’t like he had no basis for his optimism. All signs pointed to Lucifer needing this as much as Alastor wanted it. Not to mention, the King seemed curiously interested in him outside the constraints of a deal. Which was... promising, in terms of additional benefits he could potentially coax from this arrangement, considering the way His Majesty had responded to his experimental advances during dinner last night.

Still, Alastor wasn't one to count his chickens before they'd hatched. He would continue to wait and see to what extent the King was susceptible to his influence, exactly what Lucifer desired from him, and whether it was worth the effort on Alastor's part.

If Lucifer had spent the better part of a century clinging to a dead marriage that had lasted thousands of years, he could probably trust that the King's loyalty was a strong and reliable investment. Unfortunately, Alastor didn't think he had the ability to incur that level of devotion just by virtue of his abrasive personality and refusal to change for anyone else.

Well, he'd never needed to play that type of game. There was no reason to start now.

To an extent, he did wonder if—in this situation—that would be a superior method. If he were as sex-driven as most of Hell seemed to be, perhaps he might be able to utilise Lucifer's vulnerability. After all, people like Valentino actively allowed themselves to be used in exchange for mere intercourse. If Alastor understood the appeal, he'd know what to do to keep and capitalise on Lucifer's attention and interest.

But at the same time, Alastor was rather relieved that he'd retained most of his ability to think when the King was in his lap. Though he definitely had to watch out for his ears, and he'd felt that lapse in awareness when tasting the fallen angel's blood. At least he could still notice when his mind was affected, feel frustrated about it, and want it to stop.

What Lucifer described during last night's dinner had sounded like the greatest liability. Losing the capacity to think without even realising it, or worse, having acceptance of or even desire for that vulnerability induced by one's body... the very idea seemed terrifyingly dangerous.

Ultimately, Alastor was quite content to not understand the allure of sex.

And while Lucifer's attraction certainly presented a clear weakness to exploit, it wasn't a method that felt particularly appealing. Alastor was extremely proud of his intelligence and skill. Using or relying on a form of manipulation that he didn't understand was both foolish and an unnecessary risk. Not to mention, an insult to his already exceptional manipulative prowess.

So, he would rely on his wit and usual methods, rather than use Lucifer's attraction to manipulate him.

As he slipped his coat on, the memory of the lovely sounds Lucifer had made while clutching at his lapels yesterday flickered through Alastor's mind, and his grin widened. Though he certainly did enjoy how vulnerable said attraction made the King, how exhilarating it felt to hold such sway over a godlike being.

Why shouldn't he indulge in something fun while working to secure a powerful ally?

After all, Alastor had never been one to deny himself an enjoyable experience. He'd known he was damned to Hell since his first kill. Why restrain himself when, even if he should be pious as a monk, society and even God would see him as no more than a common criminal?

Now fully dressed, Alastor carefully combed his hair and adjusted his bow tie in the vanity mirror. Tilting his head to the side and studying his reflection, he wondered what the King liked about him. Alastor knew he was attractive—though his appearance had changed since his arrival in Hell—but he wasn't too certain that was it.

After all, Lucifer had disliked him quite clearly since they first met, and appearances usually only gave one an edge within the first few hours of meeting someone. Perhaps he would get an answer to that question today.

Picking up his staff, he checked the time before sweeping out of his room and locking the door behind him.

Alastor started humming again as he strolled down the hallway to the lobby. Lucifer would often seek out his morning coffee around this hour, and Alastor was curious to see how the funny King would respond to seeing him this time. So many new expressions he'd seen just yesterday alone.

Really, he was quite satisfied that Lucifer had been willing to answer his questions, that he'd even been willing to sit down despite the X Alastor had placed on his chair. To choose to trust Alastor even after being reminded that Lucifer had recently been burned by his own overconfidence, well...

It was either evidence that His Majesty was the most powerful idiot in all existence or that he found what Alastor had to offer worth the risk.

The latter was somewhat flattering, though he couldn't help but wonder if it was connected to the fallen angel's taste for pain. Alastor enjoyed spicy food because he was proud of his tolerance, but the King had seemed to find his jambalaya genuinely pleasurable to eat. To be so attracted to danger and pain.

What a curious little thing.

After the amusing and informative chat with the devil last night, Alastor was in a rather good mood as he got his own cup of coffee from Husk at the empty bar and sat down to drink from it.

Until he spotted Lucifer heading down the stairs with a toothbrush in his mouth.

Admittedly, half of him was pleased to see that the short blond hadn't worn that fucking bathrobe that flashed his collarbones for all to see and exposed far too much of his legs whenever he sat down. The other half was, however, oddly infuriated by the pink oversized sweater and sweatpants that Lucifer was wearing instead.

One overly long and baggy sleeve was bunched up at Lucifer's elbow as he brushed absently at his teeth, while the other extended past his hand entirely, making the little King look smaller and weaker and more vulnerable than even the robe had.

A sharp clink caught his attention, and it was only then that Alastor realised he'd accidentally cracked the handle clean off his red mug with the force of his grip.

As such, he was busy glaring in bewilderment at the mug handle in his hand when Lucifer joined him at the counter.

Spotting his cracked mug, the impish, cheeky brat grinned and removed his toothbrush to say. “Maybe you need strength training instead of a coaster.”

Huffing in irritation, Alastor lifted his mug by its rim and took a sip from it defiantly, before grumbling. “It's your fault.”

“Huh? Oh, for crying out loud. With you, everything is my fault!” Lucifer snapped, throwing his hands up in the air dramatically, those long and flapping sleeves making him look even more silly and...

Fuck. Why did that make him want to scruff the little shit and drag him back to the King's room, like he had when the dumb duck was drunk? The impulse was incredibly annoying, especially because he had no explanation as to why or what he even wanted to do once he'd done that.

The only thing Alastor could identify in the strange and incomprehensible mix of feelings inside himself was the vague urge to pin the tiny King down and restrain him somehow.

“Yes, because it always is.” Alastor glared at the idiot walking about in rumpled clothing that clearly served as his sleepwear. “What are you even wearing? Would it kill you to get dressed before leaving your room?”

“Hey, I don't get dressed till I've had my fucking coffee.” Lucifer casually tossed his toothbrush through a portal and reached up to pat the rollers in his hair daintily. “My level of beauty isn't easy to maintain, Bambi. These rollers need time to sit in there.”

Alastor was about to retort that his hair wasn't nearly long enough for rollers, when he froze, every prior thought knocked clean from his skull.

The blackened hand that Lucifer had raised to his hair was missing a gold band on his smallest finger.

He didn't think he'd ever seen the King without his wedding ring, and the devil's words from the night before returned to Alastor's mind.

If Lucifer had been clinging to his marriage like a corpse, what did it mean for him to have removed his ring? The idea that Alastor had supplanted the King's wife of ten thousand years within one fucking day was absurd. Ridiculous. Impossible. But Alastor couldn't quite think of any other reason that His Majesty would discard his ring after Alastor questioned it last night.

Perhaps if he'd removed it while in private with Alastor, it might have made more sense. Wearing a wedding ring while being intimate with someone else was understandably distasteful, and Lucifer had seemed guilty and ashamed when Alastor asked about it. But to remove it altogether, even in public...

After everything Lucifer had divulged last night, Alastor had thought to wait and see, to patiently coax his answers from the fallen angel over the course of this week. But after such an unexpected development, Alastor was now right back to the state he'd been in before their dinner.

In dire need of some answers.

Reaching out to take the King by the wrist and pulling him closer, Alastor flashed a sharp grin in response to Lucifer's raised eyebrow, drawling. “My my, did you remove it after last night?”

He ran his thumb over the naked finger where Lucifer's wedding ring once rested, and His Majesty's face flushed once again. Something about the way the fallen angel ducked his head down into the high, wide collar of the thick sweater dwarfing him was making Alastor's blood thrum in his veins.

“I– er– well, I– I suppose you could say that...” Lucifer mumbled, yanking his wrist from Alastor's grip and placing his hand on his chest. “I just, sort of, moved it.”

So he was still wearing it, perhaps as a necklace, from the gesture. Alastor's grin tightened. For some reason, he felt slightly disappointed by that answer.

Before Alastor could say or do anything, however, the heavy thunk of a mug landing on the counter beside Lucifer made both of them jump.

“Your coffee.” Husk stated blandly, his face scrunched up like he'd eaten something sour.

Right. If he was going to interrogate the King, it would probably be best done in private. Well, Alastor wasn't going to complain about finding a good reason to sate his impulses.

Beaming at the bartender, Alastor snatched up Lucifer's mug with one hand, quipping brightly. “Ah, thank you, Husker, my good man! We'll get out of your fur now then!”

And with the other hand, Alastor grabbed Lucifer by the back of his sweater. Ignoring the dumb duck's indignant squawking, he wrapped his shadows around them, barely catching the cat demon's grumble as they shadowed away.

“I don't get paid enough for this shit...”

“Husk! Has my dad come down for coffee yet?” Charlie asked, scanning the lobby as she neared the bar.

Though in truth, she wasn't very sure what answer she'd prefer at the moment. Would she rather have more time to think of a way to break the news, or was she more worried that she wouldn't get the opportunity to if she didn't find him soon? Fuck, maybe a last-minute notice would be better for her dad, just so he wouldn't get too anxious in advance?

Husk's expression was ever so slightly surlier than usual as he continued to scrub at the glass in his hands, answering blandly without looking up. “Yeah.”

Charlie looked around once more, before tentatively asking. “Err, do you know where he went?”

“Nope, don't want to know either.” Husk grumbled.

Charlie's brow creased. “Why? Did something happen?”

The bartender's face scrunched up before he finally looked up. Scrutinising her for a moment, Husk sighed. “Alastor took him... somewhere.”

“What!?” Charlie exclaimed with wide eyes. “What do you mean? Took him somewhere outside? Like, out out? As in, on a date?”

“What? Hell if I know.” Husk rolled his eyes. “Damn demon picked your dad up and shadowed off somewhere.”

“Oh.” Clearing her throat, Charlie grinned sheepishly, embarrassed that she'd jumped to that conclusion, but in her defence, her dad had been real suspicious yesterday.

She'd spent all night trying to respect her dad's boundaries and not speculate about what might have happened between him and Alastor. Even though she was worried about him, especially when it came to the Radio Demon. She was at least sure her dad was smart enough not to make a deal with the sinner, but it was always difficult to tell what Alastor was up to.

Was concern for her dad a good enough reason to pry? He hadn’t seemed comfortable sharing when she prodded yesterday, and after Angel, she didn't want to push and pressure him into revealing whatever secret he might be keeping. But it was hard not to wonder after Vaggie told Charlie that her dad was asking where Alastor's room was yesterday and now hearing from Husk that Alastor had...

Charlie paused, asking in confusion. “Hang on, he picked my dad up? With what? You mean like, in a car?”

“By the collar, actually.” Husk snorted, muttering under his breath. “Guy looked hungry.”

That sounded like what Alastor had done when her dad was drunk. Wait, hungry?

“Hungry?” Charlie echoed, worry blooming in her chest, the memory of a giant Alastor dropping loansharks into his mouth flashing through her mind.

Could her dad even be consumed by Alastor that way? How would it affect him? With the curse Heaven had placed on him, would her dad even be capable of defending himself against a powerful sinner like Alastor?

No, no, Alastor wouldn't do that. Would he? Alastor had promised not to hurt him, and she did trust that he would keep his word.

“I'll– I need to find my dad.” Charlie spun around and made for the staircase.

“Knock yourself out.” Husk's flat drawl barely registered in her haste, too absorbed in her worry.

Had she fucked up by urging her dad to get out more? If he got hurt, she would never be able to forgive herself. Especially when she'd kinda stretched the truth a bit to do so.

She hadn't lied, per se. Just sort of smoothed out, padded with kindness, and packed into little packages of constructive encouragement some of the conclusions she'd... backed her way into from her mom's frustrated late-night grumbling—usually when her mom got home after a meeting with Heaven that she'd attended in place of the King—added a dash of what she now understood about her dad and served up a plate of encouragement.

Charlie had to admit that her impression of her dad hadn't been helped very much by her mom's complaints. For so long Charlie had thought him a selfish coward, thought he didn't care about her, about his wife or his people.

She sighed. Now she understood. Her dad had been up against Adam, who loved killing sinners, and Sera, who let the asshole do what he wanted. Her dad had been... weak in faith, yes, but he hadn't much hope of success when he was up against Heaven's stubbornness and callous disregard, and she'd understood that in the end.

Charlie's gaze caught on the table her dad had hidden behind when she sought him out after he crashed Vox's rally. Swallowing, she turned to leave the lobby, heading for Alastor's room on the third floor.

She'd forgotten, back then, let herself forget, let herself question if he really gave a shit about her dream when he threatened the TV man behind her back. To threaten a sinner while she was trying to reassure everyone that she wasn't a dictator had gone so clearly against everything she stood for that she'd defaulted to that again.

It had just been too easy to go back to being angry at him. She’d been too focused on the damage he'd done to their reputation. Had taken her anger and frustration out on him.

All the redemption and understanding she'd preached about. Yet she hadn't extended it to him just because she was busy being angry and hurt. Because she was a hypocrite, because she'd forgotten why she was doing all this to begin with, gotten so caught up in proving herself to the world that she'd forgotten she wasn't doing any of this for herself.

She'd let Vox's smears get to her. Made mistake after mistake and piled all of it on the people who'd supported her the most. Charlie knew she needed to make it right, that apologies weren't enough after everything her dad had gone through. So, she'd made sure to be by his side, to make things easier for him every time she needed to trouble him for his authority.

Hells, how was she supposed to break the news to him?

Spotting Alastor's room just up ahead, Charlie raised her fist to the door and hammered on it. “Alastor! Alastor!”

She waited, to pure silence, before hammering on it again. Was he just not answering the door? Was he even inside? Was he doing something to her dad in there?

The last thought was almost enough for her to run downstairs to find KeeKee and force her way into the room. But what if Alastor just wasn't in? What if he was in but they were doing something private? What if he never forgave her for trampling over boundaries? But what if Alastor was hurting her dad?

Charlie paced up and down the corridor anxiously.

There was no reason for Alastor to hurt her dad, right? Unless he wanted to use her dad for something? Charlie groaned. She felt terrible being so suspicious of a friend, but Husk had told her about how Angel had been forced to spy on them for months. It wasn't out of the question that someone might have found a way to make Alastor do something bad.

A high-pitched and slightly maniacal giggle came from behind her, along with the click of a door being unlocked, and then Nifty's familiar voice, brightly announcing. “Housekeeping!”

Spinning around, Charlie blinked at Alastor's open door as Nifty bounced into the room without reservation. “Wait! Nif–”

Rushing to the open doorway, Charlie paused at the sight of a completely empty room, not an Alastor or Lucifer to be seen. Sagging in relief, Charlie heaved a ragged sigh. Well, there went an entire wasted hour. Where else could they–

Charlie’s eyes snagged on a jarring spot of white in the red hues of Alastor's decor and the blue of his bayou, and and her jaw went slack.

Her dad's top hat sat innocently on the backrest of one of Alastor's recliners.

Hmm.

Okay.

That's...

Taking a deep breath, Charlie made an immediate about-face. Well. They weren't here. So. She should... go.

Clearing her throat and trying not to think too hard about why her dad might have left his hat in Alastor's room, she searched her mind for any other possible locations. Maybe her dad left his hat here because he and Alastor were going out for breakfast! That would explain Alastor looking hungry. Maybe he just popped back to his room with her dad to put on something nice, and her dad accidentally left his hat or something?

If it was breakfast, she could probably check Cannibal Town, and after that, perhaps the musical theatre? She'd seen a flyer for the Great Quacksby on the sofa in her dad's room, and she knew both Alastor and her dad liked musicals. Perhaps they were bonding over shared interests! That would be great!

Heart full of hope, Charlie made for the staircase again.

Maybe, if Alastor and her dad had become friends, she could ask Alastor to stand in for her...

“The fuck, Bambi?!” Lucifer exclaimed, tugging and pulling at Alastor's grip as the demon's shadows deposited them back in his room beside his ducky covered bed.

Though Lucifer ceased his struggle when he realised that he was in danger of slipping out of the whole sweater altogether, and being shirtless in Alastor's presence before he figured out what was up with the man felt like a bad idea.

The moment Alastor released him, Lucifer tugged on the hem of his sweater, pulling it back down from where it'd started riding up on his back. As he did, he caught a glimpse of the dumb deer staring at him with a thoughtful frown across his brow.

By the time Lucifer straightened and glared at him, the frown had disappeared, and the damn grinning demon promptly shoved his apple-printed mug in his face, drawling with his usual confidence. “Now now, I thought you would appreciate my forethought in acquiring us some privacy for this conversation. Unless you would rather speak in the company of the Hotel guests?”

“You could have just said so!” Lucifer snapped, pushing up a sleeve to snatch his mug with a scowl and slamming it down on the side table before jabbing a finger at the grinning asshole. “I can walk just fine by myself!”

“And allow you to spend more time exposed in plain view?” Alastor raised an eyebrow at him.

Lucifer stared back at him blankly. “What's exposed?”

The demon caught him by the wrist again, holding up his hand with an expression that plainly declared that he found Lucifer to be stupid. “Have you even thought about how you wish to present this to the public? A mere photograph of your unadorned finger would make the news by dinner, and without a statement prepared, the narrative would spread like wildfire. I had thought you wouldn't wish to trouble Charlie any further.”

Lucifer's jaw tightened. “It's nobody else's business and it's not exactly a secret that Lilith has been gone for eight years.”

“That doesn't change the fact that you would be questioned, and running away would only stoke the flames. Not to mention, from our girl, Charlie too.” Alastor leaned closer, putting his face inches from Lucifer’s, till he could smell the coffee on the demon's breath. “What were you planning to tell her?”

“I'm not running from anybody!” Lucifer growled right back.

This fucking–

Well, maybe last night, but it wasn't his fault that he'd had to run back to his room to jerk off on his own after the asshole riled him up during dinner.

Lucifer had even been in a good mood this morning, enough to actually change his routine and go downstairs in something besides his usual robe, because it had been a little embarrassing when he ran into Alastor yesterday and his lapel slipped. Yet still this dumb red loudspeaker had the gall to be such a dick to him for no fucking reason. Implying that Lucifer didn't care about his own daughter's–

He paused, the rest of Alastor's words sinking in. Well, he supposed he had run away last night, so it wasn't an outrageous assumption to make that he was doing so again, and this was the second time Alastor was mentioning Charlie...

Eyes widening, Lucifer grimaced. Well, he supposed he could see why Alastor would be worried about how Charlie might react to seeing her dad take off his wedding ring.

Sighing, Lucifer tugged his hand from the demon's grip—again—and folded his arms, his eyes on the floor as he began. “Look, Charlie and I already talked yesterday morning, and I know you care about her too, but trust me, this isn't a choice I'm making without taking her into consideration.”

Alastor went strangely still, and Lucifer bit his lip, considering how much he was willing to share, probably not the stuff Lilith had said about Lucifer needing to get out more. That was a little too embarrassing.

“I just–” Lucifer swallowed. “I thought about it last night, and... after all this time, Charlie is ready for me to move on, and I think I am too. I don't regret the time I spent with Lilith. Our daughter is the best thing that's happened in the last ten thousand years, but I think I can honour that while letting her go.”

He pressed a hand to the necklace under his sweater. Somehow, it felt less painful, thinking about his wife this way.

“And us?” The low rasp of static made Lucifer blink, feeling Alastor's finger lift his chin, forcing him to meet the demon's eyes, his gaze surprisingly dark. “What does that mean for us? What is it you expect from me?”

Lucifer swallowed as Alastor stepped closer, backing him up against the curved side of the bedframe. Strangely enough, the taller demon's form seemed larger than usual as Alastor loomed over him.

“I– I'm not sure.” Lucifer admitted, feeling oddly breathless with the heat of Alastor's fingers under his chin as the demon’s claws curled around his waist. “Lilith was my first... and only love for so long. I mean, I've found other people attractive, but I've never actually thought about anyone else seriously. I don't really know what to expect. I guess I'm just...”

When he trailed off uncertainly, Alastor chuckled, the tension around his eyes relaxing somewhat. Long fingers danced along the surface of Lucifer's back, making him shiver as they brushed against the slits of his wings through his sweater.

The grinning demon finished his sentence for him, crimson eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “Winging it?”

With a huff of amusement, Lucifer grinned sheepishly and shrugged, mostly resigned to how insufferable the man was probably going to be about this admission.

“Yeah, I guess so... I never thought I would feel like this with anyone besides her. I don't have any real expectations of you, of anything really.” Lucifer paused before adding flatly. “Though you could've just told me the problem, given me some fucking warning at least.”

“Didn't like being manhandled?” The smug demon's voice was now low and playful, almost teasing.

The heat in his cheeks increased, and Lucifer swallowed. “It's embarrassing...”

“Is that so?” Alastor purred, leaning down to murmur, close enough for Lucifer to feel the warmth of his breath against his lips. “Very well, I'll warn you first next time.”

With the way Alastor had been speaking, Lucifer wasn't surprised when the demon moved forward to close the inch of space between them and pressed their mouths together.

A soft sound left his throat when Alastor's tongue slipped between his lips, seeking his out and entwining with it while the man pressed closer till their bodies were flush against each other. The heat burning between them was unbearable, and Lucifer moaned, struggling not to whine instead when he felt the demon's hand slip under his baggy sweater to touch the heated skin of his abdomen.

Parting their lips and withdrawing his tongue, Alastor murmured. “So sweet, my King... it is my honour to have your interest. After making me wait all night, will you tell me what you like about me?”

“I–” Lucifer gasped when Alastor pulled the collar of his sweater aside and pressed his mouth to his neck, licking at his skin with a curious tongue. “I guess you're– um, strong, and ah– you helped– nng...”

A chuckle rumbled against his chest as Lucifer clawed at Alastor's sides ineffectually through the thick material of his sleeves.

“Well, I did help you get off yesterday, but surely that's not all?” Alastor nipped lightly at his neck, and Lucifer shivered at the sting.

“Wha– that's not– I mean with Charlie–” Lucifer mumbled, dizzy from the heat fogging up the inside of his skull.

“I see... and?” Alastor straightened to examine him, giving him some breathing room to think, the demon's half-lidded eyes curling up around the corners.

Lucifer swallowed, searching for the answers he'd spent all night ruminating upon. “Um, I– I like fighting with– with you.”

“You like getting picked on?” Alastor's voice crackled with amusement. “How kinky.”

“Hey, don't say that like you're always coming out on top!” Lucifer snapped indignantly.

“I am now, aren't I?” Alastor smirked, and a growl built in Lucifer's chest at his cocky tone.

“Oh yeah?” With a sharp grin, Lucifer clamped the demon's narrow waist between his sleeves and released one of his left wings. Using the force of its eruption from his back and his grip on Alastor's sides, Lucifer twisted them to the side. A single beat of his feathers proved enough to push Alastor down onto the bed and send half the ducks flying through the air.

Straddling Alastor's middle victoriously, Lucifer smirked down at the demon. “You were saying?”

Baring his teeth, Alastor propped his feet on the bed and tried to flip them. But, anticipating his attempt, Lucifer released the rest of his wings and gave them a flap, forcing the demon back down on the bed, knocking the wind out of him, and raining a shower of bright yellow duckies down around them.

Laughing at the scowl on Alastor's face—though his perpetual grin remained as always, if a tad tight—Lucifer leaned down to press their mouths together again. Eagerly, he rolled his hips against the hardness he could feel under his bum, giddy at the proof that Alastor wanted him too, that he affected the sinner as much as he affected Lucifer.

A groan rumbled in the torso under his hands, and Lucifer felt a ripple of frustration as his sleeves prevented him from feeling the demon's firm chest.

Sitting up, Lucifer retracted his wings and went to pull off his sweater, only for Alastor to take the opportunity to flip them, pinning Lucifer to the bed and growling. “Leave it on.”

Lucifer blinked up at him in confusion. “I thought you didn't like it?”

“I never said that.” The demon's eyes were starting to darken to black, an almost hungry edge to his tight grin.

Ohhhhh. Huh. Well. That explained a lot.

Lucifer fought the itch to giggle, grinning cheekily up at the demon. “So you just don't like me wearing it out? Should've just told me.”

“I did.” Alastor huffed, averting his eyes.

“No, you didn't. You just said I shouldn't, not why I shouldn't.” Lucifer rolled his eyes at the man's glare. If he didn't know better, he'd have thought the deer was sulking. “Would've thought a Radio Demon would be good with words.”

“Fuck you.” Alastor growled, brushing the rollers from his hair and grabbing a fistful of those blond strands.

“Fuck me yourself, you coward.” Lucifer grinned, sticking his forked tongue out tauntingly—gleefully using the comeback Gabriella had made in the last episode of that new romcom he'd found—blood pounding in his ears with anticipation as glowing red dials burned down upon him.

A thrill ran through him when the demon above him growled, low and dangerous, pulling painfully on Lucifer's hair and forcing his head back. A whimper escaped his throat at the burn, and then Alastor was parting bared teeth to release his tongue, which shot forward and coiled around his own.

The pinch of pain from the tight grip on his tongue and the sting on his scalp only served to remind him of Alastor's teasing about his reaction to pain. While Lucifer was in his lap. Which then reminded him of what had followed, and Lucifer couldn't help squirming at the swell of anticipation and desire that came with the memory.

An embarrassing moan left Lucifer's throat as that damn grinning demon simply watched him squirm, that constricting tongue sliding along his own in a torturously slow drag. Piercing crimson eyes in the midst of black, hungry and intense in a way he'd never experienced before.

Lilith's eyes had always been warm and playful, gentle and tender. Both his haters and occasional creepy admirers always seemed to see something else when they looked at him. But Alastor's heavy gaze made Lucifer feel like he was naked. Like he was more naked than he'd ever been, and it was driving him crazy.

To still be wanted, desired like this, when Alastor had seen him at his most powerless and humiliating. When the sinner knew just how weak and ashamed Lucifer actually was beneath all the bravado, how much he lied to everyone and even himself. Alastor's constant mockery meant he knew him and still wanted him.

A whimper forced itself from his throat when he felt the chill of his damp sweatpants, oh so helpfully informing Lucifer just how wet he was, his erection throbbing with need and sweat pooling under his sweater.

He needed more.

Lucifer moaned in frustration, unwittingly providing more embarrassing reasons for Alastor to lose respect for him, only to feel giddy when the demon's breathing became heavier instead. Fuck, he was doing this on purpose, wasn't he? That fucking sadistic demon.

A part of him worried—almost habitually—if what he wanted to do would be too demanding, but Lucifer shoved it aside, reminding himself that this was Alastor, not Lilith. Lucifer didn't need to worry about being too overbearing and accidentally putting pressure on Alastor to do what he wanted. If Alastor didn't like something, his asshole personality just wouldn't let Lucifer do it, right?

So, Lucifer planted his feet on the bed, slanted himself to the side, and rocked up against the demon's thigh, whining around his tongue. “Bamiiiiii…”

To his delight, Alastor gave him an almost fond chuckle, one that made Lucifer melt and squirm, before rewarding him by gripping his hip and grinding them together.

Pleasure slid through his veins with every slow roll of the demon's hips against his cock, and Lucifer felt like he was going insane. The memory of having Alastor's fingers inside him was agony, and with his legs spread on either side of Alastor's body, he couldn't even rub his thighs together to relieve the burning itch and need for friction.

He needed it, desperately.

He could finally feel Alastor through the cloth between them, and the idea of having that cock inside him was making his insides burn. He'd liked the toys Lilith had tried a few times on him, but he'd sometimes wondered how a real cock would feel. And now he finally knew how it felt against his own, but he really wanted to know how it would feel with the parts designed for it.

Unfortunately, Alastor didn't seem to share his urgency. Knowing the sadistic bastard, he was probably getting off on torturing Lucifer with the wait.

When Alastor finally pressed his cock against Lucifer's opening through the layers of cloth between them, the bastard didn't even move, teasing him with mere pressure where he needed it.

With a frustrated groan, Lucifer decided that he was done waiting, and raised his legs to hook around Alastor's waist. Pushing against the man's restraining grip, Lucifer tilted himself up to properly rub his wet opening against that firm cock.

A moan left him at the blessed friction, and the sheer want that wracked his body was about as strong as the alarm when he realised just how far he could drag himself along Alastor's length. Oh. The demon was... probably bigger than him.

That made sense.

Alastor was taller.

And bigger in general.

Lucifer moaned when Alastor ground back against him roughly, letting him feel how hot and hard he was, and fuck. It felt good, but also the glare burning into him was a bit scary, and for the millionth time in two days, Lucifer wondered if he'd bitten off more than he could chew.

“Fuck me yourself, you coward.”

Coward?

Alastor's eye twitched.

Says the little shit who ran away from anything even remotely stressful, making Alastor chase the twerp and corner him before he would be honest. The dumb duck already looked ridiculous in his oversized sweater even after getting rid of his fucking rollers, and now he was sticking his tongue out like a goddamn child. Alastor's grip tightened on the mattress, and he took a deep breath to cool his head. Fuck.

Time for this duck to learn its fucking place.

With a growl, Alastor leaned down, forced the King's head back with his grip and... well, he already had one hand occupied bracing against the bed and the other in Lucifer's hair. So, Alastor used his own tongue to catch that skinny forked one, coiling around the slick muscle and tightening hard enough to hurt.

Naturally, the cheeky thing beneath him simply released a sweet sound that made Alastor's blood rush with equal amounts of annoyance and delight. Somehow, it felt almost as exhilarating as the screams that a blade in the gut would draw from a miserable, disrespectful cretin. Who would have imagined that he could gain such satisfaction from anything else?

Perhaps it was the thought that he, Alastor, was the only other person to touch the King of Hell this way—to draw these sounds from The Fallen Angel himself—that was intoxicating. That Lucifer had all but admitted to enjoying being manhandled by him. That he, Alastor, had actually supplanted the Queen of Hell herself in her faithful husband's heart, that Lucifer wanted him, chose him over Lilith, the second most powerful being in Hell.

All by just being himself. Himself at his most abrasive even.

Well, mostly. It was amusing that His Majesty had mistakenly taken Alastor's justification for the interrogation as concern for Charlie's feelings or her hotel's reputation. But if it got the King to take him seriously and actually answer his questions, he would endure the misconception. Admittedly, it was almost endearing. The Morningstars really did have a tendency to see good where there was none.

Alastor huffed in amusement when Lucifer wiggled under him, those slim, short legs that were spread wide for him, bracing against the bed as the King tried to rock his hips against Alastor's thigh for friction, making the thick sweater ride up around Lucifer's waist.

Such a needy thing.

“Bamiiiiii...” Lucifer whined in complaint around his tongue, reaching up to paw at his arms through his baggy sleeves.

Chuckling, Alastor released the hair in his claws and took the King by his narrow hip, holding it still against the bed as he curiously pressed down with his hips, letting the irritating tightness in his pants grind against the heat between Lucifer's legs.

A moan left the little King, and Alastor suppressed his own shudder at the sensation of Lucifer's hardness against his length. He'd felt it earlier, when the fallen angel ground against him, the peculiar pulse of pleasure that came from the pressure. Even though it wasn't too different from the grip of his hand, the answering throb and twitch of Lucifer's cock were definitely new.

He wasn't sure if he liked it. It was a nice sensation, if a bit unsettling. Though it did feel better now, with Alastor choosing when to press down. But what he could say for certain was that he enjoyed making Lucifer squirm and gasp, enjoyed the way his pretty red eyes went half-lidded, the flush high on his cheeks.

Ah, that delicious feeling he'd tasted yesterday. Of holding the King’s pleasure in his hands, the power of being able to provide or deny, hot and heady in his skull. Alastor wondered if he would ever tire of it. Probably not. After all, he still very much enjoyed killing.

Sighing at the sensation, Alastor adjusted his position and pressed himself against the soft mound below Lucifer's hardness, testing the hot core against his sensitive length and drawing a whine from the King. Would His Majesty let him inside? How much was he allowed to dirty the fallen angel?

The itch to test his boundaries, to push the limits of what Lucifer would tolerate, warred with Alastor's trepidation.

How would he react to being inside Lucifer's body? Would he lose control? Would it ensnare him? Would he become a slave to his own pleasure like the many people he'd looked down upon all his life? It almost felt worth the risk, the idea of being the only man to mark the King of Hell, the source of Alastor's most prized free will, to spill inside his immaculate immortal body and claim him in a way nobody else had.

A groan left Alastor's throat as he rocked against Lucifer, sweat beading on his brow, pleased when it was answered by the King's lovely moans. Then, with an impatient sound, Lucifer's legs hitched higher on his waist, and the devilish thing then used his thighs to pull himself up, resisting Alastor's grip on his hip to drag his wet core over Alastor's aching hardness.

A hiss escaped Alastor's clenched teeth when the unexpected sensation made his body respond instinctively, grinding back down harder and getting a moan of satisfaction from the little King for his troubles. It took more effort than he'd have liked to admit to restrain his body from chasing that pleasure, but he managed with a tight grin.

“My, such a greedy King.” Alastor released Lucifer's tongue to growl out. “I could almost believe you Fell for Greed and Lust rather than Pride. Writhing shamelessly beneath me like this.”

“Fuck you! This is new for me too, asshole!” Lucifer snapped predictably, but then, to his surprise, the King's eyes slid off to the side, looking almost shy as he mumbled breathlessly. “I've never– I've never really felt like this before.”

Alastor froze, blinking down at Lucifer for several seconds, before laughing loudly. “Surely you jest, my King. You would have me believe that Charlie was conceived like Jesus Christ?”

“Not that!” Lucifer glared at him, groaning before explaining haltingly. “I mean– I– with Lilith I was, I guess, sort of... worshipful? After everything Adam did to her, I wanted to make her happy. And she was... really sweet, gentle... and... um...”

Fuck. Alastor struggled not to rip the sheets beneath his claws—at the revelation that he was actually the first to induce this type of response from the King—as Lucifer trailed off, looking uncomfortable and like he might start crying. The latter of which Alastor really, really did not want to deal with.

So, he moved his hand to the fallen angel's waist before straightening to sit on his heels, holding the King in his lap.

“Is that so?” Alastor murmured as Lucifer's sleeves came up naturally to rest on his shoulders. “Do you want me to be gentle too?”

Lucifer swallowed and bit his lip, gaze flickering down to his grinning mouth, brow furrowing in thought for several long minutes.

Then Lucifer shook his head, stating simply. “I want you to be you.”

Something inside him... did something. Alastor didn't quite know what, but something felt... different. And pleased.

Pleased to hear that answer.

“Good.” Alastor growled, gripping Lucifer tightly around the waist and pulling the angel down on his lap, pressing his hardness against the King's core, rocking up against it and squeezing a moan from Lucifer’s throat. That long, slender throat. A musical instrument so pleasing as to rival his favoured pianos.

Tugging the fluffy collar aside to bury his face in Lucifer's neck, Alastor took a deep breath, filling his lungs with mouth-watering sweetness. And here he'd thought he couldn't get any more ravenous. The thought that he hadn't simply gotten under Lucifer's skin, but made the angel—whose only sin was his gift to mankind—seek so desperately to be defiled by one of the sinners he so hated that he would subject himself to Alastor and everything that entailed...

Fuck.

Alastor groaned, his veins nigh thrumming with the elation of having achieved something he hadn't even bothered to hope was within reach. The King of Hell on his leash, in the palm of his hand. Laving his tongue over Lucifer's soft, pale skin, Alastor couldn't help but drag his teeth across that supple flesh, torn between the itch to bite down and the desire to explore that which had been offered.

The sweet moans of his little King, as Lucifer rolled his narrow hips and rubbed his wet entrance against Alastor through the cloth, however, made the decision for him. It felt too... stimulating. Alastor could feel excitement buzzing in his chest, the eagerness to indulge, a blend of new impulses that felt foreign yet somewhat familiar, not unlike the urges that would often lead to a delightful rampage of bloodletting.

Indeed, if he bit down on the delicious thing while it writhed on his aching erection, Alastor felt like he would surely lose himself to his instincts. He wasn't too sure what that would look like, but whatever constituted a loss of control from him in this scenario, it could potentially scare Lucifer off before Alastor could secure this momentous victory. Then again, perhaps the King would enjoy that too. This strange, silly, needy creature.

“Tell me, my King, what would you like?” Alastor murmured, taking Lucifer's chin between his fingers and gazing into those glazed and misty red eyes. “Such a gift you have given me. Tell me, what do you desire in return?”

He wasn't being generous. He just needed to remind Lucifer that Alastor was nobody's charity case. Besides, with how bad Lucifer was at this—at making sure to get more out of a deal than the other party—Alastor probably didn't need to worry too much about reminding the King that he had a debt he could collect on.

“I– I want you to feel good. I want– I want to feel good with you.” Lucifer mumbled, rolling his hips harder against him.

A groan built in Alastor's chest again. Fuck, this idiot really didn't know how exchanges worked. It shouldn't make him feel like this, like his chest was becoming tight, like he needed to hide this stupid creature away before the dumb duck did something foolish. Well, more foolish than walking into Vox's trap.

What the Hell was this? Since when had he ever seen someone who didn't collect on debts as anything but deserving of mockery and scorn?

There was a gentle touch of lips against his mouth, and Alastor opened his eyes, only then realising that he'd closed them at all, finding the King's eyes soft and warm before him. Somehow, that look made his chest burn, made his face feel hot like nothing ever had, made him feel strangely exposed.

Unbearable.

So, Alastor took His Majesty by the waist, peeled the clingy thing off him and set the confused duckling back on the bed—this time on his hands and knees—pulling the King up by the hips and forcing his own mind to focus on what he’d been asked for.

“B– Bambi?” Lucifer almost sounded nervous. Cute.

“Yes, my King?” Alastor answered, relieved to find himself sufficiently distracted by the sight of the pert little bum raised in the air.

“What– um–” Lucifer gasped when Alastor squeezed curiously at the round mounds, before moaning as Alastor dragged a thumb across the wet patch of cloth between the devil’s spread legs.

“Relax, I'm simply fulfilling your request.” Alastor chuckled, leaning forward to press his cock against the King's opening through their pants. “This feels good enough for now, doesn't it?”

Lucifer whimpered and pressed his face into a pillow, his body visibly relaxing with a sigh. “Yeah... this is good.”

And conveniently didn't allow Lucifer to look at him. Alastor was mildly disappointed that this also meant he couldn’t see Lucifer's face, but he didn't really want to be witnessed as he experimented either, so he was pleased that Lucifer found this satisfactory.

Rocking gently against him, Alastor sighed as his cock dragged along the hot and pillowy mound between Lucifer's legs. It felt nice. He could probably reach orgasm from this. Honestly, Alastor also wanted to test the waters, see how his own body responded to reaching climax with Lucifer. Perhaps it would help him gauge how likely penetrative sex was to affect him beyond his control.

Pausing to unbutton his pants and free his erection to tent his looser underwear, Alastor returned his hands to the angel's narrow hips. Now a little more comfortable, he explored the shape of Lucifer's waist and ass with his fingers, rolling his cock against the squirming King's opening through the layers of cloth, testing different angles and movements.

Alastor was amused when Lucifer's panting gave way for a moan, right as his tip pushed against the underside of the soft balls cradled in the devil's underwear, chuckling as the King wiggled his hips in search of that sensation again.

As he did, Lucifer's sweater slid down, riding up along his arched back and revealing a slightly red slit just above his tailbone. Ah, the place where one of his wings would emerge, no doubt. He'd caught a glimpse of them when the thick cloth had ridden up as Lucifer struggled in his grip upon reaching the room.

Curiously, Alastor pushed the King's sweater further up his torso, till he could see all six of the slits in his pale flesh. Leaning forward, he ran a finger lightly over the indented skin, and Lucifer immediately released a high-pitched whine, rocking back against him.

A smirk raised the corner of Alastor's grinning mouth.

Oh, this was going to be fun.

“My, such a greedy King. I could almost believe you Fell for Greed and Lust rather than Pride. Writhing shamelessly beneath me like this.”

Lucifer swallowed a whine of embarrassment, having Alastor point it out like that was mortifying. Hells, the demon had no sense of tact. The thought of behaving like this, the way he was with Alastor, in front of anyone else was unimaginable, and he needed to make that clear to the demon.

He wasn't always a horny slut. He's the fucking King of Hell! He'd gone decades without sex. It wasn't his fault Alastor was such a fucking–

“Fuck you! This is new for me too, asshole!” Lucifer snapped, and then paused. Oops. That didn't come out right. He looked away. He hadn't meant to reveal just how much he was winging this. Shit. “I've never– I've never really felt like this before.”

Lucifer wanted to burrow under the blankets to hide when Alastor let out a bark of laughter, thick and rough with static. “Surely you jest, my King. You would have me believe that Charlie was conceived like Jesus Christ?”

Bristling indignantly, Lucifer dragged his eyes back to the asshole. How'd he get that from what he said!?

“Not that!” Lucifer groaned. Great, now he had to explain it because the dumb deer was too fucking stupid. Searching for the words, he tried his best to clarify. “I mean– I– with Lilith I was, I guess, sort of... worshipful? After everything Adam did to her, I wanted to make her happy. And she was... really sweet, gentle... and... um…”

As he spoke, the memories and pain began to resurface, and Lucifer felt a sob rise in his chest.

All those years spent earning Lilith's trust, showing her his ideas and dreams, proving to her how much he adored her and respected her. Sitting in her arms, docile and unthreatening, wiping her tears and promising her his world. He'd wanted to make her happy, been proud to make her happy, drawn strength from his ability to provide and fulfil her needs, from proving that he was better than the man Heaven had created her for.

He'd loved her so much.

But it hadn't been enough in the end.

A squeak of surprise caught in his throat when Alastor suddenly scooped him up and sat him on the demon's warm lap. Lucifer's body instinctively relaxed with a sigh, the familiar position soothing the pain in his chest.

“Is that so?” The black gradually faded from Alastor's crimson eyes, his voice soft and with barely a hint of static. “Do you want me to be gentle too?”

Lucifer swallowed. Did he? Did he want Alastor to be gentle and sweet like Lilith? Could he even imagine what that would be like? Alastor. This cocky, cruel asshole.

What did he want? Lucifer's gaze dropped to the sharp grin that the demon always wore, and the fluttering of the butterflies in his stomach slowed. He wanted that. That reliability. Alastor never changed. No matter what. Be it tied to a chair or flitting about the hotel or slaughtering and torturing.

Alastor was too proud to change.

No matter what Lucifer did, no matter how much he'd humiliated himself, Alastor would still simply mock and tease him, and nothing changed. It was... freeing. He could say or do anything he liked, and Alastor didn't stop engaging with him or lose interest. The Radio Demon had even left the hotel, come back, and picked up right where he'd left off.

It was reassuring, knowing that Alastor might come and go, but he wouldn't change.

Lucifer wanted this to stay. To not change. The fun, the competition, the teasing, all of it. He didn't want to wake up one day and find himself alone again.

Lilith had made him feel strong and needed, proud and powerful. But now that she was gone, Lucifer just wanted to belong. He didn't want someone who wanted him to change, wanted him to get over his resentment of sinners and be the King they needed. He wanted someone whose goals might change, but whose core wouldn't.

No, he didn't want Alastor to be like Lilith. He wanted the real deal, whatever was real under Alastor's smile. Otherwise, Lucifer wasn't sure this would last.

And he... he liked it. Liked that this thing with Alastor wasn’t like what he’d had with Lilith. Liked this new feeling, this strange blend of pain and pleasure, the hint of danger, the thrill. It wasn’t better or worse. It was just different, and he wanted to see what it could grow into.

Lucifer shook his head and breathed. “I want you to be you.”

The demon's eyes burned into his own, and Lucifer felt like a bug under that small fish scientist's microscope.

Then the grin on Alastor's face sharpened, and the black crept back into the red of his eyes. A low growl that sent shivers down Lucifer's spine emerged from those bared teeth with a simple. “Good.”

Strong fingers tightened around his waist, and Lucifer choked on a moan when the demon pressed down on his hips, grinding that hot and firm cock right where he needed it. Then the damp collar of his sweater was being pulled aside for Alastor to press his mouth to Lucifer's neck. Sharp teeth scraped against his sensitive skin, bringing goosebumps to the surface and making his breath catch.

Whining and eagerly taking the offered relief, Lucifer clawed at the demon's shoulders, giddy and beyond relieved that Alastor hadn't mocked him or dismissed his feelings, touched that the Radio Demon was responding with equal fervour. The thought that he could incite such a reaction from the unflappable Overlord was dizzying.

“Tell me, my King, what would you like?” Alastor murmured, and Lucifer had to struggle to focus on his words through the pleasure and emotions welling up inside him. “Such a gift you have given me. Tell me, what do you desire in return?”

Gift.

Lucifer felt like he'd forgotten how to breathe. Gifts were valued, treasured, appreciated. His eyes felt wet, and he wanted to shove his face into the demon's chest and cry, but he was also still really horny, and he still had a question to answer.

Though really, what else could he possibly want? The one time he needed Alastor to not mock him, the man hadn't. Hells, he'd been kind, held Lucifer in his lap, softened his tone, and even comforted him. Yesterday, Alastor had given him pleasure and didn't seem to mind that Lucifer had passed out without reciprocating. Alastor had even made dinner for him after that!

And now, here he was, asking what Lucifer wanted? He took a shaky breath. The only thing he really had left to worry about was whether Alastor was getting enough out of this whole thing between them. The man hadn't seemed interested in reciprocation. The one time Lucifer had initiated, the one time he’d made Alastor vulnerable, the demon had run away.

He was almost afraid that Alastor might be catering to him, to Lucifer's needs. He didn't want to be the Lilith in this relationship.

He wanted–

“I– I want you to feel good.” Lucifer blurted out, too anxious to think of a better way of saying it, pressing down on the demon's erection to prove his point and to remind himself of the evidence that Alastor wanted him too. “I want– I want to feel good with you.”

He wanted it to be mutual, needed it to be real, to not be the only one who liked this. This thing between them.

Alastor closed his eyes with a soft groan, a sound somehow like that of an injured animal, a strange expression that Lucifer hadn’t seen on his face before. There was something almost pained about the crease between the demon's brow and the tremble of his grin, something that drew him in.

Leaning forward, Lucifer pressed a sweet kiss to the corner of Alastor's mouth, hoping, as crimson orbs met his again, that it would convey what he didn't know how to put into words. His own eyes widened when Alastor's face flushed, even darker than it had when Lucifer touched the deer ears on his head.

Then Alastor's claws were tightening around his waist, and within a blink, he was back on the bed. On his front. And then his butt was being pulled up into the air.

Wait wait wait–

“B– Bambi?” Lucifer squeaked with some alarm.

This was... this was definitely a sex position! Now!? In the middle of whatever had been happening there!? Were they just jumping into it like that!?

Also, when had they decided he was bottoming first!? Or– well– he supposed he had been telegraphing his interest quite obviously. Look, he was curious, alright!?

“Yes, my King?” Alastor purred behind him, and Lucifer's insides throbbed at the sound.

Well, clearly his nethers were onboard with this configuration, but Lucifer himself was still reeling and struggling to wrap his mind around the sudden shift. Oh Hells, he wanted it, but the thought of having that thing he'd been rutting against for the last few minutes inside him suddenly felt rather daunting.

“What– um–” Lucifer began to ask, not entirely sure what he planned on asking himself, only to be cut off by his own moan when large hands kneaded and squeezed at his bum. Jolting and shuddering, Lucifer felt a firm press against his swollen and leaking entrance, the pad of Alastor's finger tracing around the sensitive skin through his cloth.

“Relax, I'm simply fulfilling your request.” Alastor chuckled, his voice deep and dark, making Lucifer want to squirm and fuuuck– that hot hardness was pressing against him again. “This feels good enough for now, doesn't it?”

A strangled sound caught in his throat at the sensation, the new position spreading his folds open and allowing him to feel the demon’s shape as that cock rubbed back and forth between his legs.

And as disappointed as his nethers were, that he wasn't going to get that cock inside him today, Lucifer himself was quite relieved to hear that. He was a little too emotionally raw after thinking about Lilith. Simple rutting that felt good without entering—no pun intended—new territory? Oh yes. That sounded great.

So, pressing his face into his pillow and sighing with some relief, Lucifer mumbled. “Yeah... this is good.”

A shudder of pleasure raised goosebumps on his skin as Alastor's cock ground against his entrance in inconsistent motions that he couldn't predict. Each time, Lucifer would find himself anticipating sensation that didn't come when he was braced for it, only for Alastor to set tingles sparking across his skin and warmth to pool low in his belly when he wasn't expecting it, no coherent rhythm to be found.

Was Alastor just teasing? A confused whimper was swallowed by his pillow when Lucifer felt that rounded tip catch on the lip of his opening, and he wondered if Alastor had removed his pants. Lucifer hadn't heard much movement, but he was a little too embarrassed to look.

He'd imagined that his first time coming into contact with Alastor's cock might be on his knees perhaps, or straddling the deer's thighs, a taunting grin stretched across his own face as Lucifer undid the flustered man's trousers.

He hadn't thought he'd be on his hands and knees, mapping the shape of it in his mind with the lips between his legs instead of those on his face, while Alastor's large hands mapped his lower body with a surprising... attention to detail. Lucifer felt like he'd be hard-pressed to find a place on his ass that hadn't been touched by those warm hands, squeezing and groping him with the focus of a sculptor.

A heated breath wheezed through Lucifer's clenched teeth when he felt a tap against the underside of his balls, the gentle impact making him squirm and lower his body to the bed in search of friction. The itch to rub his hanging cock against the mattress was unbearable, and he considered the merits of grabbing a pillow to shove under his waist so he could rut against it while Alastor did whatever he was doing back there. Perhaps the demon wouldn't mind?

Then he felt a hand leave his hip, and the next thing he knew, his back was feeling the chill of his sweat drying in the air.

Before he could ask what Alastor was doing, a shiver of electricity ran up his spine, and a high-pitched sound tore from his throat. Back arching at the sensation and hips rocking back against Alastor, Lucifer wheezed. “Wha–”

Blinking the static from his eyes, and tentatively lifting his head from the pillow, he was about to look behind him when the shock of sensation repeated again. Stronger this time. Enough to make him moan and shudder. Almost enough to hurt. Jolting when it became too much, he flattened his belly to the bed to escape it.

“Mmnnn Bambi–” Whining in protest, Lucifer rubbed his chest against the mattress, trying to dispel the goosebumps crawling over his skin even after Alastor's touch had withdrawn.

“Too much?” A deep chuckle came from the demon behind him, and Lucifer clutched tighter at the pillow when the crackle of Alastor's voice after so many minutes of silence was enough to make him moan softly.

“A– a bit...” Lucifer mumbled into the pillow, his heart rate slowly returning to normal with the respite. “What did–”

“You didn't know?” Alastor sounded infuriatingly pleased.

“Know what?” Lucifer scowled, finally lifting his head to glare at the grinning demon over his shoulder.

“That your wing... slits, I suppose, are sensitive.” Alastor purred, his half-lidded eyes curled up around the corners as he extended his tongue and dragged it along one of those spots on his back that– fuck–

Lucifer's eyes rolled up into his skull, and an absolutely pathetic sound escaped him as his back stiffened sharply. Then he felt the tapered tip of Alastor's tongue dip into his wing slit, and his knees promptly gave out. The demon's claws wrapped around his waist and hip, holding him up and in place as Alastor rocked against his sensitive entrance with more urgency.

After all the teasing, Lucifer was beyond relieved, if a little surprised by the sudden onslaught. His breath was laboured, and his body trembling, as that tongue wiggled and flicked inside the split in his flesh. Shocks and ripples of sensation rolled through his veins, and Lucifer whimpered, struggling and failing to writhe against the restraining grip on his hips.

The impact of Alastor's cock grinding against his opening was so strong as to force him into the mattress, and Lucifer turned his head to the side so he could gasp for air, his tongue rolling out naturally to cool the heat in his throat.

Hells, the thought of Alastor using this much strength to fuck him with his cock inside, instead of just rutting against his clothed entrance, was enough to make him dizzy. Enough to make all sense fly out the window, enough to make Lucifer want to cast aside his hesitation, and beg Alastor to just do it instead of–

There was a deep groan from behind him, and the cock grinding against his entrance through damp cloth twitched. Then the heat and wetness abruptly increased, soaking the cloth of his sweatpants through even further. The tight grip of the demon's claws around his waist spasmed, and it took Lucifer's foggy brain a second before it clicked.

Ah, Alastor had probably come.

Well. There went his chance to get railed right now.

There was a wet sound as the heat against his ass withdrew, and the tongue slipped out of the throbbing slit in his back, the demon behind him panting softly in the quiet of the room.

Oh, shit. A rather terrible possibility occurred to Lucifer. What if Alastor just stopped right here? Left him all wound up and horny, and just stopped? That sounded exactly like what a sadistic bastard would do.

A whine squeezed from his throat, and Lucifer shook his hips desperately, pleading eyes seeking the demon's out anxiously from the corners. Though in his position, he wasn't quite able to turn his head far enough to see Alastor's face. “Bambi... don't stop, please– want to come...”

There was a moment of silence, and Lucifer yelped when Alastor's hands moved to grip his ankles instead, and then he was being flipped onto his back.

With wide eyes, he took in the satisfied grin on Alastor's face as the demon purred. “Well, how could I refuse when you ask so nicely?”

Swallowing thickly when Alastor's hands moved to tug at his sweatpants, Lucifer realised that he was about to be much more exposed than he was moments ago. Though, admittedly he had asked—begged—for it, so he couldn't exactly complain.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Alastor struggled to catch his breath, the sound of his panting embarrassingly ragged in the aftermath of his climax.

He hadn't expected to taste the faint flavour of His Majesty's sweet blood in his wing slit, the feeling of raw exposed flesh against his tongue reminiscent of the ecstasy he'd sampled from Lucifer’s wrist. It had been enough to spike his pleasure and send him into a somewhat disconcerting frenzy.

Though he was relieved to not have lost control entirely. It had been a challenge, reining in the urge to take a bite out of the flailing little thing beneath him, but Alastor had nonetheless managed to redirect his aggression and satisfy those impulses in another way. As he would expect of himself, of course.

Despite the unplanned escalation, however, Alastor was pleased to find that the physical sensation itself hadn't been too different from regular masturbation. If anything, he could easily say that he'd enjoyed the feeling of Lucifer's body going limp under him more than the orgasm itself.

The satisfaction of being able to hold his whining King in place as he rutted against Lucifer's most vulnerable parts, using the angel like his own personal plaything, was exhilarating. The glimpse he'd gotten of Lucifer’s flushed cheek and forked tongue hanging out, pleasure and heat in those glazed eyes, now that had been quite something.

Speaking of the whiny King, another whine came from the trembling form beneath him, and the hips in his loose grip swayed back and forth before him in an amusingly slutty display. “Bambi... don't stop, please– want to come...”

A groan caught in Alastor's throat at the pleading. To have the King of Hell begging for his touch, at his mercy. The thought alone was enough to light a fire in his veins. Well, why not. Far be it from him to pass up an opportunity to demonstrate for his little King how well Alastor took care of his belongings. To give the fallen angel a taste of what it meant to be his.

It was a simple matter to flip Lucifer onto his back, and Alastor chuckled at the wide-eyed stare he was treated to. With his own problem taken care of, there was no longer any need to remain out of Lucifer's sight, and the prospect that he could finally watch the King's face as he fell apart only quickened the pulse thrumming in Alastor's ears.

“Well, how could I refuse when you ask so nicely?” Alastor grinned broadly, reaching down to tug at Lucifer's loose and very soiled sweatpants, happily unwrapping him like a present on Sinsmas. “Now, if you would lift your hips for me, my dear.”

The flush on Lucifer's face deepened, and Alastor's grin widened even further with pleasure when the King did so obediently, holding his long sleeves up to his chin shyly.

So adorable. Alastor felt something purr in contentment at the display. This was a side of the irreverent and stubborn King that nobody, besides perhaps the angel's wife, had the privilege to witness. Alastor revelled in that knowledge as he folded and set the sweatpants on the side of the bed, eager to gaze upon his newest prize.

When his eyes returned to the angel, Lucifer had his thighs pressed together. Chuckling, Alastor set his fingers on those pale knobbly knees. “Shy, my King?”

With a petulant grumble behind his baggy sleeves, Lucifer relaxed his thighs and allowed Alastor to spread them.

The vision he beheld was beyond his expectations. Lucifer's tiny, blackened hooves that gradually lost their darkness halfway up his slim calves, becoming a creamy white that went all the way up his thighs. The smooth stretch of his waist, the narrow hips where his swollen pink cock stood, oozing a bead of lightly glowing pale liquid at the tip, and the glistening slit—just below his tight little balls—that leaked slick onto the blanket beneath them.

With nothing but the baggy sweater that Lucifer's small waist disappeared under, it was a stunningly vulnerable image. Obscenely so. Alastor had been rather undecided as to how he would fulfil the King's request, but he now knew exactly what he wanted to do.

“My, my, I could just eat you up, your Majesty.” Alastor chuckled, pleased when Lucifer whimpered in response, his cock twitching and the pearl of fluid rolling down the side of his length.

“Mnn, please do.” Lucifer mumbled breathlessly, eyes glazed over with want, and Alastor couldn't help but find it delightfully endearing. No self-preservation indeed.

Taking a moment to remove his own coat, which he placed beside the sweatpants, Alastor combed his fingers through his hair, brushed it back and tied it up with his magic. Then he lowered himself to the mattress on his front, giving the bead of fluid at the tip of Lucifer's length a curious lick as he got comfortable. Perhaps it shouldn't have come as a surprise, but it was different from the taste of his own seed, salty, but much less bitter and slightly sweeter, with an almost buttery flavour.

Now Alastor was really curious.

Having never done this before, he really had nothing to compare it to, but as Alastor dragged his tongue across the moist folds of Lucifer's opening, he was quite certain that this couldn't be what a regular cunt tasted like. Sweet milk was the closest comparison he could draw, light and slightly musky, about as sweet as the sound Lucifer made when Alastor lapped at his entrance.

The King's hips bucked up into his face, thighs closing around his head, and Alastor chuckled as he wrapped his claws around Lucifer's hips to hold them down.

“Now, now, my dear, none of that.” Alastor purred, licking away the delicious slick smeared across his cheek and nose.

“Enough teasing, I'm dying here!” Lucifer groaned, lowering his sleeves to glare at him.

Heaving a long-suffering sigh, Alastor shook his head. “So dramatic, my impatient little King.”

“You fucking– I am not lit–” Lucifer snapped rather predictably, and Alastor chose that moment to push his tongue into the King's body, drawing a moan from Lucifer and cutting the angel off.

It was satisfying, shutting Lucifer up this way, though Alastor quickly found himself distracted by the strange texture against his tongue.

Those ridges he'd felt with his fingers before squeezed around his tongue as he attempted to orient himself within that slick heat. It was a little harder to press his tongue against Lucifer's inner walls with the strength of his fingers, and Alastor struggled to find the bump he'd pressed and rubbed at before.

To his annoyance, the King's patience seemed to be much shorter than it had been yesterday.

Evidently having decided that Alastor was taking too long to figure this out, Lucifer propped himself up on his elbows, groaning loudly. “Ugh, Bambi, just use your fingers, you suck at this.”

Narrowing his eyes at the slight, Alastor glared at the devil, pointedly ignoring the demand and extending his tongue deeper into that channel instead. When he reached the end, however, Alastor was surprised to find a fat bump that he hadn't noticed with his fingers before.

Examining it with his tongue, he felt Lucifer's body jolt in response as he explored its shape, and, to his even greater surprise, Alastor soon found a small opening in the middle of it. He prodded at it lightly, before tapering the tip of his tongue to poke into the puckered sphincter, feeling the tight opening give ever so slightly.

“Ah– wait, Bambi, that's, um...” Lucifer wheezed, trailing off hesitantly, seemingly unable to find the words to finish his sentence. His attention returning to the King’s face, Alastor watched curiously as Lucifer swallowed and looked away almost nervously, an indecisive air about him.

Humming to himself, Alastor flicked the bump with his tongue, and Lucifer's head fell back, giving a shaky moan as his hips struggled to buck under Alastor's grip. Clearly, this was something rather sensitive. He wondered why the King seemed so uncertain, not quite stopping him, but not begging for it either. Unless...

Alastor's grip tightened on Lucifer's hips.

Unless the King was unsure how he would react, how it would feel. Which meant that this wasn't something Lucifer or Lilith had played with before. Eagerly circling the bud, Alastor squeezed and massaged it with his tongue, making Lucifer whine and scrabble at the blanket for purchase.

Then Alastor released it, placed the tapered tip of his tongue against the opening, and began to squeeze into it. He watched the King's face carefully for any indication of pain as he pushed against the stubborn opening, finding it much harder to enter than he'd anticipated.

But Alastor had never been one to take no for an answer, and he twisted his tongue, burrowing into it persistently. A squeal left Lucifer's throat, his mouth falling open, and his body trembling as Alastor pushed and shoved, bullying his way into that tight opening.

Until finally, it parted for him, and Alastor's tongue emerged on the other side of the constricting tunnel. Immediately, the most heavenly flavour exploded on his taste buds, sweet and warm, rich like honeyed milk.

At the same time, Lucifer's back arched right off the bed with a loud moan, his cock spurting glowing liquid onto his stomach, and his insides squeezing around the rest of Alastor's tongue. Unfortunately, the King's thighs also proceeded to clamp down so tightly around Alastor's neck that he felt his spine snap with a loud crack and a sharp burst of pain.

Wincing, Alastor began to withdraw, and Lucifer's body went limp as his tongue slipped out of the angel's insides. Only then did those powerful thighs release Alastor's neck from their death grip.

Sitting up and groaning, Alastor tilted his head to the side, snapping his neck back into place before glaring down at the panting King in annoyance, only to realise that Lucifer had passed out.

Again.

This was starting to become a habit.

Rubbing at his sore neck as his immortality kicked in and began mending the injury, Alastor sighed. How in Hell had Lilith survived ten thousand years of having sex with this guy? No wonder they only had one child in all those millennia.

Though, he did like the possibility that Lucifer didn't normally pass out from sex, and Alastor was just that good at it.

So, until he had reason to believe otherwise, he was going to go with that. Admittedly, he was slightly disappointed that the arching of Lucifer's back and the thighs that snapped Alastor's neck had both interrupted his enjoyment of Lucifer's sweetness and robbed him of the sight of His Majesty's face as he came, but he supposed he would get the chance to do so another time.

Looking down at himself, Alastor grimaced at the cooling mess in his underwear and slid off the bed carefully to remove his pants and then his soiled undergarments. The latter of which he then used to wipe most of the glowing seed off Lucifer's stomach. Alastor considered having a taste, but the crusting liquid didn't feel very appetising at the moment.

Perhaps next time.

Preferably fresh out of the oven.

Depositing his ruined underwear on top of Lucifer's soiled sweatpants and examining his trousers, Alastor was quite pleased that he'd managed to avoid dirtying his own pants. Then he went snooping about the room and eventually found the bathroom at the top of the staircase behind Lucifer's bed. He took a minute to tidy himself up a tad, washing his face and cleaning his groin before putting his pants back on, sans underwear.

Fetching a clean towel from a cabinet, he dampened it with warm water from the gigantic tub and went back down to clean the snoring angel up.

As he scooped the limp thing into his lap and wiped the silly little King's slender thighs down, Alastor wondered why this definitionally monotonous task felt nice. Pleasant even. Like listening to little Nifty's deranged rambling or working on his broadcast scripts, like playing the piano or writing a new piece. Soothing almost.

The way Lucifer nuzzled against his shirt with deep, contented breaths, it was like having a purring kitten in his lap. Only, this was the most powerful creature in his world, not a harmless pet. Alastor chuckled when Lucifer shivered as he rubbed the warm cloth between the angel's legs to clean away the remaining crusting slick.

When he was satisfied with Lucifer's cleanliness, he lifted the thick blanket and placed the King under it.

As he did, Alastor wondered if this was how his mother had felt, tucking him in as a child. It would go some way towards explaining the lengths she'd gone to for him, though not entirely. Alastor didn't think he would ever truly understand why she had been willing to dedicate so much to him.

Not to mention, his mother hadn't seemed to want to squirrel Alastor away the way he did the King, at least. To cloister and guard the fallen angel like a dragon over its hoard.

Standing to bring the soiled garments to the laundry hamper in the corner of the room, Alastor was surprised by a string of frantic knocks on the door.

He glanced at the bed. Noting that the King was still sleeping, he quickly dropped the stack of cloth into the arms of his shadow to finish the chore for him and strode to the door.

Opening it, Alastor's grin widened at the sight of a frazzled-looking Charlie. “Why hello, my dear. Whatever has you in such a rush?”

Hand still raised mid-knock, Charlie blinked at him in surprise, before narrowing her eyes. “Alastor... What are you doing in my dad's room?”

“Oh, nothing nefarious, I assure you! Indeed, your father would sooner snap my neck than allow me to act against your interests.” Alastor chuckled at his own joke and when her expression remained somewhat suspicious, he leaned back to gesture into the room in invitation. “Look how soundly the King is sleeping.”

He waited for Charlie to enter and examine her father, a relieved smile forming on her face. And Alastor was retroactively glad that he hadn't actually taken a bite out of the King's neck and that the blanket hid Lucifer's naked bottom. He did not want to deal with the fallout of Charlie realising what he'd been up to with her dad while Lucifer slept through the whole ordeal.

“Perhaps we should step outside, so as not to disturb him, hmm?” Alastor asked when she straightened, and the princess nodded, following him out of the room.

When the door had closed behind them, Charlie cleared her throat, her face bearing the unmistakable uncertainty of someone about to ask for a favour, and Alastor flashed her a disarming smile. “What is it, my dear?”

“Um, how long do you think he'll sleep?” She asked tentatively.

Alastor laughed airily, raising an eyebrow as he twirled his staff. “Why, it would be anyone's guess! But perhaps an hour or two. He did seem quite... tired.”

Charlie's expression was now much more obviously suspicious, but—seemingly setting it aside—she placed her hands together, looking slightly nervous. “I actually had something rather important to tell my dad, but I don't think I have time to wait for him to wake up, perhaps you could pass it on for me?”

“Of course, my schedule is quite free today.” Alastor leaned against his staff with a bright smile.

“Well... you see, I was supposed to accompany my dad to a meeting with Sera tomorrow, but one of the guests has a serious family matter that I wanted to support them through, so I won't be able to go with him.” Charlie blurted out in a rush, biting her lip before peering at him with hopeful eyes. “But I'm worried about my dad getting stressed and I was kind of, sort of, actually hoping you might be willing to accompany him instead? Since you seem to be getting along with him better now.”

Alastor blinked at the barrage of words she'd just thrown at him and chuckled. Well, that wasn't the worst way to spend a Wednesday. A chance to listen in on some political exchanges and see His Majesty actually being a King for once? That sounded fun.

Though, of course...

“Hmm, I could...” Alastor drawled casually. “Though it does sound rather tedious to spend a day babysitting the King. I suppose I might be persuaded with some... incentive.”

Charlie's hopeful smile flattened and she sighed, folding her arms. “Alright, what do you want in exchange?”

“Just a teensy bit of information to sate my curiosity, my dear.” Alastor purred, pleased with how quickly she'd caught on. “See, I've been wondering what compelled Lilith to leave your dad. I'm sure there is no shortage of reasons, but I was hoping you could narrow it down for me.”

Charlie grimaced and hesitated, her face contorting into various shapes and amusing configurations, but—unlike her father—she ultimately did as he expected. “Fine. But then I expect you to keep him as happy as you can tomorrow. Deal?”

Alastor's grin widened.

“Deal.”

Notes:

I hope it goes without saying that Alastor should have paused and checked in when Lucifer got uncertain about cervix penetration, but Alastor's a dick and Lucifer just insulted him, so. Don't worry, he'll learn, sort of. At least he was watching Lucifer carefully for discomfort, that's about as much as we can hope for from this asshole lol

Also, this chapter was basically these idiots being like a cat and a rabbit. With the cat licking the rabbit while both parties think they're asserting dominance (because hierarchical culture of cats and rabbits are opposites, the cat on top does the grooming, while the rabbit on top gets groomed).

I love writing two characters interpreting the exact same scene in completely different ways.

And after writing Obikin for so long (which can be summed up as “two people who love each other deeply accidentally hurt each other despite the best intentions”), it's a nice change to be writing a couple that don't start out already loving each other complicatedly but who accidentally do everything right with each other and eventually accidentally fall in love lol

I also feel like there's a curious stereotype/assumption that pragmatic, transactional-minded, and consequentialist people HAVE to be unempathetic or see no value in intent. Which I find odd, because not caring about a person's intentions and motivations isn't being pragmatic, it's being stupid.

Not making the effort to discern what motivates the people you're engaging with (and your own) makes you vulnerable to manipulation. Like Vox, who didn’t question Alastor's motivations and simply took the offered deal on its face, purely looking at the deal's terms without taking the person into account. It's a surefire way to get scammed and exploited. Even Charlie hasn't been that foolish (as of season 2), while still being empathetic and emotional.

Even though a person who loves can hurt, and a person who doesn't can do things right (for other reasons), emotions and intentions do make a significant impact on prediction models and outcomes. And any transactional-minded pragmatic asshole who doesn't take that into account is simply foolish. A thief believes everyone steals, and a liar assumes everyone lies, but that isn't true and a smart person of any mindset has to take this into account.

And even for a less transactional-minded person who isn't calculating and quantifying everything, figuring out what the other person is getting out of any deal or relationship is vital to one's own safety and prevents the self-suppression that corrodes even regular relationships. If you go off being what the other person wants, you'll only drain yourself.

It's important to separate love from boundaries. You CAN love someone unconditionally without the structure of the relationship being unconditional (as I hopefully am illustrating with Alastor and Lucifer lol).

It's the difference between Lucifer's, “(if that's not enough to earn Alastor's forgiveness) then I'll try something else.” Vs “I'll do whatever you want”. The first is commitment to continued effort and looking for what works, the second is making yourself vulnerable to exploitation. The second is why Lucifer's self-suppression for Lilith led to a failed marriage despite devotion and it’s something he'll have to gradually learn to stop defaulting to as the story progresses.

It's respectful to both yourself (and others) to be honest and ensure that all involved parties are aware of each others’ expectations, needs, and limits. When relationship parameters are legible and trustworthy, it allows the mutual safe vulnerability in which love can thrive and deepen. Not the other way around. (Which is why Alastor needed honesty from Lucifer in order to be vulnerable himself.)

Commitment becomes weak and unsustainable when expectations don't align, when limits and boundaries are not clearly defined. As nice as the idea of unconditional devotion is, it's unrealistic. People need to be getting something out of any relationship for it to continue. Understanding and mutual benefit are the foundations for any relationship to thrive.

That's why it's so important to find someone who you make happy just by being yourself. If you need to put 150% effort in your daily baseline just to make your partner/friend/family happy, you WILL burn out. The best-case scenario is for your daily effort output to be below 80%, that gives you some leeway to boost to 120% on the occasion that additional effort is needed.

While most people might think it's impossible to find someone who you can entertain and provide for just by being yourself, I assure you, even the weirdest person has someone who they're compatible with, it's just a question of finding them. But if you haven't found that person yet, it might be better to just keep looking, rather than enter a relationship that will only hurt all involved parties.

Wow, I really got it finished before the next chapter.

Its been a while since my last post but I had been quite busy but when I read this chapter I needed to draw this!!!

Its my First FanArt from a Ao3 story but I am proud of it.

I know it isn't perfect cause i kinda suck at backgrounds and I'm using a new drawing app, but I think I came out well.

What do you think about my masterpiece?

I'm so excited for the next chapter!!!