So my friend told me this and I can't get it out of my head, can you pls do hcs or scenarios of AFAB Lucifer whose overworking in the middle of the night and AMAB big(tall) reader like catches him and starts fingering both holes? Im terrible at interpretation 🤣
◆ ◈ Double Trouble (for Staying up Late) ◈ ◆
{wc: ~1200} {top/dom!mc, bottom/sub!Lucifer, amab!mc, afab!Lucifer, light punishment, double penetration, orgasm denial}
Lucifer writes in messy scrawls, no longer caring about maintaining perfect penmanship. Nobody else would see these forms, anyway, they were only for his own record keeping. After the incident at the alchemy lab last Thursday, Lucifer had been drowning in paperwork and records. Much of the lab had to be replaced, including two of the walls. He groaned, rubbing his temples. He was mostly just thankful that you hadn’t been caught up in the mess.
You…
When you were with him, he always flew through his paperwork faster. He had chalked it up to the calming presence you had on him, it made Lucifer stress less about the minor details, and let him breeze through the never ending bog of bureaucracy. Or maybe you just enticed him to hurry up and finish his work, so you’d praise him and you could indulge in his newfound free time.
But you weren’t here right now, and you wouldn’t be free until tomorrow, because you had promised Asmodeus that you’d help him break the record for the world’s longest makeup stream on Devilgram. Lucifer couldn’t pretend to understand why you two would want to spend hours upon hours applying make up, but he understood that it would make Asmo very happy. So he encouraged you not to worry about him, and when you made him promise to be in bed by 10:00 pm, he agreed.
But he wasn’t.
When the clock chimed 10, Lucifer rubbed his eyes. He’d only completed half of the necessary work, he could work five more minutes and then go to bed.
When you came to check on him before you yourself went to bed, it was past midnight. He was writing as if in a trance, eyes darkened with exhaustion and a little bit of irritation.
“Lucifer?”
He jumped, leaving a splotch of ink.
“What are you doing up! It’s past midnight, you’ll feel tired tomorrow.”
“Shouldn’t I be saying that to you, mister ‘I’ll be in bed by ten?’ And I was helping Asmo, remember? You on the other hand…” you shook your head. “What will I ever do with you?”
He frowns, lowering his head in as much of a pout as his pride will allow. “Its not as though I was being purposefully disobedient, I merely did not feel tired enough to sleep. Rather than toss and turn, I thought I would do something more productive until I was tired,” he huffed. His eyes were baggy, and he suppressed a yawn.
“Oh, then you aren’t tired right now?” You ask, knowing fully well he was.
“No, I could go another five minutes at least.”
You sighed. “What am I going to do with you, Lucifer? Maybe I should tire you out myself.”
He smirked, “now my love, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you were flirting with me.”
“Oh?” You tilt your head. “Then are you asking me to help you?”
“I am.” When you first caught him, he was afraid that you’d be disappointed in him though he’d rather fly across the Devildom than admit that but now that he felt assured you weren’t actually upset… he felt comfortable enough to ask;
“Shouldn’t I be punished for breaking a direct order?”
“Order?” You shake your head. “It’s hardly an order, love, I just wanted you to sleep!”
He pouts again, narrowing his eyes. “It wasn’t an order…?”
You catch on, “alright then, it was most definitely an order… and you broke it big time?”
He smiles, “yes, and you have my deepest apologies, master,” he bows.
“Hmm… apologies are great, but you should still be punished for such disobedience. You can start by bowing lower-“
You walk around the table, running your hands up his back and suddenly pushing him into his desk. He grunts in surprise, but quickly caps his ink and moves aside the paperwork so he can focus on his punishment. In a flash, he lets out his wings, which are folded tightly. You continue rubbing his back, forcing the poor, stressed little demon to relax for once in his life. His wings wiggle, shaking out and flapping far more freely.
You start undoing his pants, gently slipping them down his legs. He obediently lifts each foot for you, and you fold his pants, tossing them aside. His shimmied movements catch your attention, and you realize he’s sticking his ass out further for you, wiggling things back and forth. There’s a small wet spot forming.
“Impatient,” you coo, grasping the sides of his waist and squeezing roughly. He gasps, going up on his toes and arching his back for you, inviting more of your touch. “You’re such a needy little birdie.”
He doesn’t verbally respond to your praise, but he buries his face in the crook of his elbow, surely a blushing mess. You smirk, hooking a finger under the waistband of his underwear and dragging them down.
His entrance pulses, dripping with his own arousals.
“Don’t tease me,” he begs, “just start.”
You run your fingers over his pussy, ending at his clit which you stroke before moving away. You spread him open with two fingers on your right hand, using your thumb to rub over his clit as you slip in one finger. Finding that he’s already aroused enough for two, you quickly adapt.
He gasps, a shiver running through his body. He lets you work his entrance for a few minutes before he has to ask,
“This doesn’t feel like much of a punishment, don’t you think?”
“No. It doesn’t,” you purr. You gather up his juices… and carefully push a finger into his ass.
He gasps, pushing against you. “That’s good,” he admits, three of your fingers rubbing against all the best spots. He’s dripping wet, allowing himself to open up fully to you. It’s not hard to slip another finger into his asshole, with how pliant he’s being.
⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡
Lucifer is moaning, clutching the edges of the desk and whimpering. You keep stroking at his holes, roughly massaging his prostate and g spot. He gasps, and even allows a little drool to escape. It’s been ten minutes, and yet he’s already an utter mess. He’ll blame it on the sleep deprivation.
“Are you ready to cum?”
He nods desperately. “Y-yes, yes master, please, I’m ready to cum..”
You hook your fingers, pressing into his favorite spots and roughly picking up the pace, causing little moans and gasps to escape him, he begins to beg for release…
…and you pull out.
“Put them back!” He growls, digging his nails into the desk, “finish me off right now!”
“Tsk tsk. You’re being a bad little boy again.”
His eyes widen, and he clears his throat. “My… my apologies, master. Now please, may I cum?”
“No.”
“…no?”
“Wouldn’t this be an unsuitable punishment if I allowed you to cum at your own request?”
“A-ah…! I… suppose you are right…” his wings flutter in impatience, “but is there truly nothing I can do to redeem myself, master?”
“Yes.”
He looks at you, holding his tongue even as the anticipation is burning.
“You can come with me to bed, and we’ll finish this there.”
