Work Text:
“You’re so beautiful,” Lucifer whispers, thrusts deep and steady. “So perfect. Like you’re a gift from Heaven, a holy reparation for millennia of pain.”
Alastor whines, too overstimulated to form a coherent denial.
Lucifer takes pity, voicing his rebuttal for him. “But you were never Heaven’s, were you? Each sin branded you. Each murder sealed your fate.” He presses a kiss to Alastor’s nape. “A gift, yes, but all your own doing.”
Alastor shudders. His static skips with each drag of Lucifer’s cock.
“You’re mine,” Lucifer breathes. “You've always been mine.”
Alastor comes, soft and sweet, and Lucifer follows.
Paradise.