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They say the Devil is ravenous.
Alastor couldn’t agree more.
Greedy in a way where Alastor had a hard time declining- the heat behind those eyes, the low and rumbling baritone that tempted him right where the Devil wanted him.
Carvenouss in a way where it could only be described as gusto when he was finally permitted to dig in, moaning and chirping low in appreciation, devouring like it was his last meal on their condemned little world - Gluttony speaking through him.
Prideful when he knew Alastor gave himself like this only to him and no one else- kneeding supple flesh and gripping it between his sharp claws only to bring closer, ravaging what he was so deliciously offered.
And Alastor could only simply give in and surrender, knowing he would never be as satisfied with anyone other than the King himself.
After all, Alastor always aimed for the best, and that wouldn’t change now. Not like the Devil would let him.
The present moment could be the very definition of a perfect example.
Being in hell did not spare him from owning the same body with few exceptions - forcing him to adapt. Among everything that came with it, he despised one of the occurrences with a burning passion.
And that would be the damned bleeding.
Every month, as if on clockwork, the cramps and aches started, the trickle of searing warmth down his thighs inevitable. He treated hygiene products like something from a black market - even when considering they were in Hell, of all places, everything was a black market. Hiding away the pads and tampons, not keen on using any sort of cups, before the time came to use them. Usually, he would be prepared not to risk staining anything lest someone finds out his true biology - that was always a dangerous possibility he would rather avoid, as he did not think fondly of being possibly exploited.
Hell was brutal, you see.
Especially when one was an Overlord of his status - bound to the King himself, no less.
The deer seemed to have gotten quite too comfortable with said King - sleeping soundly as he was, toasty in the warmth of Lucifer’s arms around him that held him tight to his front, the covers covering both of their bodies. All but ruined when a cramp twisted his lower stomach, gritting his teeth and gasping in pain - the trickle of blood following soon after. His groggy mind desperately buried deeper into the warm body, his nose buried into the junction of a pale neck, thighs blissfully wrapped around narrow hips that pressed him further into the bed, Lucifer lying almost on top of him.
It was all too comfortable, but then all too terrifying when his sluggish mind finally caught up to the fact that he did not, in fact, wear anything sanitary - the silky material of his nightwear clinging tight to his soaked with blood skin, having gotten used to going commando underneath with his King in mind.
Seriously, the sacrifices he’s made.
And now look at them biting him in the ass.
He felt in real time how gradually soaked he was becoming, biting back a whimper at yet another cramp twisting his insides.
Lucifer was still deeply asleep when Alastor attempted to push the King back, gently enough to try and escape unnoticed, panic overwriting his mind because he did not want to not only dirty his bed but also his partner with his blood- not even thinking about slithering away with his shadow, especially not with another cramp. Shifting his hooves to try and push up, he unconsciously pushed harder against the firm body slotted against him - to the point where the arm tightened around him with a warning growl.
The primal part of his brain bared his throat, ears lowering in submission before he bristled and squirmed stubbornly harder. Though it did the exact opposite of what he had wished to do from the beginning, rousing the proverbial beast.
“Al..? What is it..?” Came the gruff rumble aimed right against his twitchy ear. The sleep-ridden voice made him tremble all over from the strong shiver sent down his body, fur standing on its ends, while his cunt pulsed not only with blood anymore - which further fed to his ire. The damned Pavlovian reaction.
“I have to go.” He clipped in a rush, attempting to push the Devil off of him, albeit to no avail.
“Where?” There was an evident frown in his voice, disapproving of Alastor’s possible departure.
“To the bathroom, you Moron, where else?!” Alastor shrieked quietly, ears pinning when Lucifer, instead of letting go, pressed closer, the wetness between them squishing, palpable.
The Devil stopped.
Alastor could only pant from small exertion, a flush both of embarrassment and arousal residing, making itself comfortable on his cheeks - deepening further when Lucifer made sure to inhale long and loud through his nose - the little hiss of Lucifer’s tongue near his flicking ears the only indication of Lucifer sampling the air, the iron tang in it very much noticeable.
For a moment, there was silence filled with small whimpers and pants before eventually the King did rise - looking nowhere keen to actually let Alastor go.
Strong arms caging him in and pushing him further onto his back, Alastor’s breath hitched when his eyes met inverted ones, the slits dilated in a way that only got for him.
Both of them breathed heavily, Alastor knowing his fate was sealed the moment Lucifer’s tongue sampled the air again, clearer - closer to the source this time.
Eyes full of hunger.
“Can I go..?” He attempted quietly, a pout forming on his lips because he knew he was fighting a fight already lost.
“And let it all go to waste? No.”
The words were final in their barely restrained calmness and intensity, still grovelled by the remnants of sleep clinging to Lucifer, gradually disappearing with the flames of desire - the air growing musky with the scent of caramelized apples and cinnamon.
Almost as if on cue, his insides clenched and he attempted to close his thighs- remembering that they were unfortunately parted by the weight between them.
Pants left him as he glared at his partner- the hungry beast that he was.
“You’re ridiculous.” He bit with a snarl but Lucifer paid it no mind, not when he already dipped to his neck, kissing at the pulse there and making him wait more. His arms were helpless and he was done trying to squirm away, utterly at Lucifer’s mercy.
And when he whimpered from another cramp, Lucifer only cooed- kissing down his chest, having bundled up the deer’s shirt to reveal the flat belly.
“I’m sorry it hurts, baby. I’ll make it better…”
At this point, Alastor had resigned the fight and admitted his loss, the kisses to his skin reverent and soft, loving. His pants went next and Alastor could only blink down at his Alpha, who snapped his dirtied pants to god knew where before settling himself between his soaked with blood thighs - tongue already extending and reaching to lap up a stray drop of blood off the side of his furred thigh. The doe could only breathlessly gasp, his thighs shivering - tail as squished as it was fluttering in a wag when Lucifer groaned at the taste of his blood.
This was the point of no return.
Diving down, he didn’t wait for Alastor to make room willingly- no, he tore those luscious thighs apart before bringing down the flat of his tongue to his bleeding hole, swiping up with calculated pressure up to his clit to then suck the bundle of nerves into his mouth with a reverberating moan- slurping the blood off of it like his life depended on it.
Naturally, Alastor keened and arched- hips pushing up further into Lucifer’s almost overeager mouth, ash burned hands only grasping to support, pushing the doe’s drooling pussy further into his maw, and Alastor saw stars.
Lucifer’s rumble of approval was loud as he slurped the slick and blood graciously provided to him, parting with a kiss to his clit for a breath. It didn’t last long, not when that same tongue went back to lap at his pussy, dipping the tip of it teasingly into Al’s fluttering hole over and over - prompting little jerks of impatience from him.
“Fuck, y’ taste so good..” He slurred almost drunkenly as if Alastor’s blood was what it took to get the King into any sort of high. Which, considering this happened every month, Alastor might start to think this to be true.
Gripping at blonde hair, he stared into those glowing eyes with his own hooded ones, brows scrunched from pleasure- opening his mouth to say something smart but Lucifer had long predicted his move, deciding this to be the perfect moment to spear him on his tongue, leaving the doe gasping, eyes crossed in pleasure.
The chuckle that followed made said doe bleat. The devil cooed before he began to fuck his beautiful sinner, pushing his flexible and inhumane tongue impossibly deep, scooping that delicious blood before curling the muscle and hitting his special spot on the way back. All on repeat while he watched with rapt attention how his Queen lost himself in the pleasure he provided.
Lucifer could remain like this for hours on end, and -true to his words, he did.
The Devil hungered.
And Alastor knew no reprieve.
–
But at the very least, he was relieved of his cramps, pampered to the nines next in the very end.