coven's notes ┊ ◜ All featured works belong to the Wives Coven! Please do not copy or repost on any other website without permission! Individual content warnings will be provided at the beginning of each story! This master list will be updated daily with a new story from one of us linked below the cut. MDNI! This is an explicit event, and we check every interaction to ensure this does not happen. Minors and ageless blogs will be blocked immediately, no questions asked! It makes every single one of us uncomfortable for a number of reasons, so please respect our wishes and don't do it! ◞
week 4 ┊ ◜ Proffer ✧ Broadcast A Spell On Me ✧ Sanctuary ✧ No Mercy ✧ 2 A.M. ◞
Cuckolding ✧ hazelfoureyes ✧ Alastor x Afab!Reader
Phone Sex ✧ fraugwinska ✧ Alastor x Afab!Reader
Size Kink ✧ minkdelovely ✧ RadioApple
Hate Sex ✧ macabr3-barbi3 ✧ Adam x Reader
Rebound Sex ✧ synamartia ✧ Adam x Afab!Reader
week 5 ┊ ◜ Medicine ✧ Stake A Claim ✧ Pollination Of Angel Dust ✧ Tethered ✧ Coming Soon ◞
Role Reversal ✧ hazelfoureyes ✧ Angel x Vox
Exhibitionism ✧ fraugwinska ✧ RadioApple + Vox
Sex Pollen ✧ minkdelovely ✧ RadioDust
Hair Pulling ✧ macabr3-barbi3 ✧ RadioApple
Healing Sex ✧ synamartia ✧ Alastor x Afab!Reader [ ON HOLD ]
week 6 ┊ ◜ Quiet ✧ Duck & Cover ✧ Joy Of Joys ✧ Quackpot ✧ Coming Soon ◞
I hope everyone is eating well with everything we have on our Menu so far, lovingly crafted and beautifully executed by our lovely @synamartia! Thank you as always to my love @fraugwinska for the pretty pretty banners she made for me, and to the other wives as well! @minkdelovely @hazelfoureyes @sugoi-writes 🩷❤️🩵
Summary: reader uses a production headpiece to drop filthy one-liners in Vox’s ear, live on air!
Vox is minding his business reading off the evening news report when he hears the telltale beep of one of the production headsets connecting with his Bluetooth. He continues with his sentence, figuring it will just be someone updating him with something new that was happening that he needed to touch on, just more of the usual shit that people pinged him about while he was live.
“I’ve been thinking about sucking you off during broadcasts.”
He stutters- the sentence he had been in the middle of dies on his lips as his screen glitches in the monitor he uses to watch himself. He powers through, regaining his train of thought and scanning the crowd of people beyond the set for the culprit; it could only be you that was stupid or brave enough to say such a thing to him in front of so many people. No one else seems to have any reaction to the words, so he knows you’ve used the tech skills -that had caught his eye enough to hire you in the first place- to isolate the signal so it only came through to him. He doesn’t see you in the immediate vicinity or recognize your shape in the group before him, and his eyes narrow when he hears shuffling from your end of the connection.
He keeps going. “And hey, wouldn’t you know it- Lucifer himself has been spotted out and about Hell again! Maybe with that shitshow Hotel up and running he felt it necessary to remind Hell how royalty is supposed to behave-”
A moan warbles through his processors. “Do you think you could concentrate with me under the desk while you did your show? Choking on your cock while you try to get through the news?” He thinks he can hear something in the background, faint and slick, and he’s hard behind the shelter of the desk before he’s finished his sentence at the implication of what you’re doing on the other end.
Vox holds it together this time, managing to get through his thought about Lucifer with your soft sounds of pleasure in his ear while you touch yourself on the other end of the connection. He can’t risk checking any of his camera feeds to find where you are on the off chance of his equipment malfunctioning and showing you off for all of Hell to see; that would be a fuck of a cover-up for Velvette to handle when he offed anyone stupid enough to snap a screenshot from the broadcast and post it online.
“I know how loud you like me to be- we could watch the footage back later and see if the production mics picked up the sound of me moaning around you… ohhh…” The sound trails off, wet and muffled like you’ve shoved something into your mouth to replicate the feeling of gagging on his cock.
Could he end his broadcast? He’s paused live on air, the set manager exchanging curious glances with the rest of the crew- he could say his battery was dying, or one of his mechanical pieces needed to be replaced; anything to get out from behind this desk and go find you, fuck you into the nearest flat surface and then maybe reprimand you for interrupting his work even if it was sexy as fuck.
“Would anyone notice if you fucked me under the desk?”
He feels an error message flash across his screen and he tries to recover, laughing awkwardly and shuffling his papers on the desk. “Sorry about that, folks! Just a little buffering- on to our next bit of news…” He tries to split his focus so he can keep presenting while still listening to your whimpers and soft cries through the connection. It’s not working well- he keeps getting distracted by the noises you make, causing lulls in his speech while he tries to report, the production team looking more and more frazzled the longer it goes on.
His cock is straining against his pants with the way you’re teasing him, a wet patch against the front where the tip of his erection leaks. “You’d have to gag me somehow- or everyone in the Pride Ring would get to hear what I sound like cumming on your cock.”
Vox is ready to call it. Hell could live without another fucking update on the Radio Demon- he had more important things to tend to when he managed to locate you. The team is whispering amongst themselves- “Sir?” The production manager asks hesitantly through one of the properly connected headsets, the hand holding his clipboard shaking minutely across the way.
“I don’t think you could handle it,” you whisper into your end, and that stops him from giving the order to end transmission. “You’re so vocal when you’re inside of me- I don’t think you’d last a whole segment without breaking and telling me how well I’m taking you. I’m not even there with you now and I can tell you’re thinking about shutting down production.” A breathy whine of his name, and the faint, rhythmic noise he’s been hearing intensifies as you fuck yourself harder on whatever toy you had gotten your hands on. “You’d be the one to get us caught.”
Vox closes his eyes for a moment and processes the challenge you’ve issued. “How about that acid rain, everyone?” He asks, and he hears your stilted chuckle through the headset. “Temporary glitch, nothing to worry about- rest assured that those responsible will be held accountable. Our next piece here is gonna be a big hit with those over in the Industrial district…”
He locks his shit down, reporting the news without another hitch even with the distracting sound of you in his head as you bring yourself to orgasm over and over. His cock twitches and jerks in time with the noises but he refuses to even take his hands off the desk to palm himself for some relief- that would be your responsibility once he got his fucking hands on you. The production team looks relieved that he’s back to normal, and you know better now than to try and tease him any further beyond the soft gasps of his name as you pleasure yourself.
At the scheduled time- and not a moment sooner, thank you very much- the live broadcast ends, and the connection to your headset goes dead. He turns away from his desk and finally pulls up his camera feeds; there you are, spread across his sheets all sweaty and fucked out, one hand already back between your legs and the other blowing a little kiss to the blinking red light of the camera. His stage manager hardly gets out the first part of his question about what the fuck had happened before Vox is gone, zapping into the nearest cable line and on his way to teach you a lesson about interrupting his work.
another shinee song tag post! I’ll be adding more post by post until I get all done eventually. Please be patient! all of the posts will be tagged ‘shinee song tag’ so check those if you didn’t get the tag notif, if I am done and I haven’t done yours, feel free to send me a message!
if i couldn’t tag you, I put your name in the tags so visit forever5hines.tumblr.com/tagged/*yourusername* to see if it was included
@psychicgd destination | @nae-themagnificent amigo | @decafgrace ready or not | @greenpepper-onion-blog colorful | @xjongsey dream girl | @hanniebear wish upon a star | @saraminherondale alarm clock | @jazzytuanxd symptoms | @minkdelovely boys meet u | @134340 married to the music | @minkittyx i’m with you | @the-story-of-five-lights dynamite | @peachibambi romance | @ravsaken love like oxygen | @tae-min-lee diamond sky | @onewistotoro sunny side | @procrastinatingbookaddict orgel | @bobohusgf better off | @bunny-stuff 365 | @clearikflame SHINe | @justafangirllikeyou electric | milksop an ode to you | @ally-allimac colors of the season | @himichanga the reason | choccolates an ode to you | @how-it-fx-you four seasons | @taeminsd good good feeling | @shattingstar perfect 10 | @zarastrawberry undercover | @seoulhungry senorita | @livingafandomlife lipstick | @milk-am colorful | @bbyoozi kiminoseide | @awshinee melody | @kookieintheskywithdiamonds sing your song | @tresmint I want you | @leejinkimyman u need me | @sunshine-con DxDxD | @honeychuu 3 2 1 | @bompeach don’t stop | @ddudu2x juliette | @bouchemordue tonight | @demuretay chocolate | @kibumon dream girl | @tvxkyu forever or never | @07nctdream like a fire
COME LOOK AT OUR MASTERLIST BY @synamartia IT'S GORGEOUS
SHOUT OUT TO ALL OF MY WIVES @hazelfoureyes @sugoi-writes @minkdelovely @fraugwinska (WHO MADE ALL OF MY BANNERS AND I LOVE HER AND HER LOVELY BRAIN SO MUCH)
Summary: Adam gets enough of you mouthing off during training and picks a fight.
Tags: hate sex, oral sex (male receiving), fighting
You knew Adam was getting a little sick of you- but what was the point in being part of his special inner circle of angels if you couldn’t have a little fun with it?
You had mouthed off to him again, and in all honestly you felt that it was a fair question; what did he even do during the exterminations while everyone else was causing mayhem? From what you heard from the others when you joined the ranks, he usually just flitted around watching the carnage or hovered near the portal back to Heaven without contributing anything himself. So after weeks of asking during training, despite the lieutenant telling you in no uncertain terms to drop it, you finally phrased it a little differently.
“What, are you too weak to actually participate?”
You knew he wasn’t. You could see the muscles that flexed beneath his robes while he watched the girls training, the unparalleled power in his wings when he brought them out. Sometimes it just felt good to stir a reaction out of him, to have a strong emotion aimed your way from a powerful being. And yeah, maybe you were hoping a little bit that the constant questioning would eventually prompt him to give you and the rest of the girls a show- you weren’t the only one that thought your commander was sexy as sin, and a casual show of strength would send everyone through the roof.
Perhaps this was a step too far though.
Lute audibly gasped, as did the rest of your squadron. “Recruit, that is unacceptable,” she hissed, and took a step forward to reprimand you when a large hand on her shoulder stopped her in her place.
“Relax, Danger Tits. I’ll handle it. All of you- clear out.” His mask is calm, aloof, but you can see the twitch of the graphics on his eyes that betray his true emotions. He was pissed.
With no one else daring to question him, everyone including Lute was gone in seconds, leaving only you and Adam on the mats of the training room. He slowly strips his robes off, a simple white tanktop and sweatpants underneath his holy getup. You might have drooled a little at the sight of his bare skin, tendons tensing beneath the surface as he drops the clothing and stretches; he was built like a fucking bear, all compact muscle and wiry hair along his chest and arms, the hint of a stubbly shadow that peeked out beneath the edges of his mask.
You’re distracted from your observation of him when he tosses a spear your way- not one of the official, angelic spears, but the shitty ones used for training. His own hands were empty. “You think I’m weak? Alright, bitch, you fucking asked for it. Come at me.”
You stutter backwards a step, having expected some yelling; not a challenge. “What?”
“You fucking heard me. Swing the goddamn spear.”
Normally you would balk at such a demand- Lute would have your ass if she knew you had swung on Adam even in a joking manner. But Adam looked like he meant business, and he was technically a higher ranking commanding officer than Lute, so…
You swing the spear at him the way you had been taught to take down larger demons- aim for extremities to disarm first, and then go for a killing blow. He dodges with a simple turn of his heel, using his fingers in a ‘come on’ motion and urging you to swing again. But as soon as the spear is within Adam’s reach he has a hold of it, tugging hard from the tip- the force of the action drags you closer to him so he can spew bullshit at you. “You think I’m fucking weak?” He presses a finger to your shoulder and pushes, sending you tumbling back and tripping over yourself to the floor. His grip on the spear tightens with a sickening crunch before he lets it clatter to the ground looking like kindling. “Me? I’m the whole reason you’re here, bitch, and you think you have any business to fucking question me?” He squares his feet, arms lifted in front of him like a shield. “Come on! You’re tough enough to talk all this shit but you won’t actually fight? I’ll kick you off the squad right fucking now.”
You get up and charge him, managing to get one blow between his arms against his chest before he’s laughing and shoving you back again to land hard on your ass. Again, and this time you don’t even get a hit in before he pushes back and you fall. Again. Again. He shows you no mercy every time he knocks you to your ass, laughing like it’s a game and hardly even using his strength to push you around. You climb to your feet this time, and the first true whisper of anger curls around your head like smoke to combat the faint heat you feel at being the sole focus of his attention with no one else around to witness it. He hadn’t even broken a sweat, while your breath was coming hard, sweat dripping down your face from the exertion. You feel your face set into a snarl as you rush him this time, swinging a leg instead of your fist and aiming below the belt.
Bad sportsmanship maybe, but so was laughing in your face every time you failed to strike him.
It doesn’t matter- he catches your leg behind the knee like he had caught the spear, pulls you closer in a similar fashion, and wraps a hand around your throat. His wings open up behind him, and in a move so quick you’re not entirely sure how it happened, he’s managed to flip the pair of you into the air and slam you hard into the ground.
The air is knocked out of you, something not helped by the hand that rests on your airways, and the motion has dislodged Adam’s mask- he shakes his head to fling it off, and you’re greeted with his actual face, scruffy and rugged and too handsome for how close your bodies are- and you were right about how easy this was for him, not the slightest hint of moisture along his hairline. Adrenaline courses in your veins, demanding movement and action that you can’t attempt with Adam’s weight settled on top of you, still holding the leg he had caught at an uncomfortable angle hear his hip. It mixes dangerously with the arousal you’ve felt this entire time, making you want to do something stupid and telling like rubbing yourself against one of his thick thighs while he squeezed softly at your neck.
“Low blow to go for my dick,” he admonishes as he lets go of your leg and it slams back to the ground. “All that trash you talk and look how fucking easy it was to get you pinned under me. Still think I’m fucking weak?” His fingers flutter around your throat as he repositions, the action sending a blush racing to your face and spreading to your collarbone. He doesn’t miss it, a cruel smirk taking over his handsome features while he looks down at you. “So that’s the deal, huh? You just wanted a fucking excuse for me to manhandle you a little bit? You kinky bitch.”
“Fuck you,” you snap at him, trying to turn your blushing face away, and he releases a single finger from the grip around your neck to dig into your cheek and turn you back to face him. The move is such a casual show of his strength that it makes you swallow hard, unable to clench your thighs together with him between them.
“You wish,” he laughs, his eyes bright and mischievous, and he uses his free hand to grab the length of his cock through his sweatpants, a dark patch where the tip rested against the fabric. “Shit, knowing you’re getting off on this is hot as fuck- but being a mouthy brat doesn’t get you fucking rewarded, so here’s what we’re gonna do.” He finally releases your throat, allowing you to suck in a lung full of air while he stands before he offers a hand to you. He only helps you up from the mat as far as your knees before he pulls away, crossing his arms over his burly chest. “You’re either gonna leave- and stop fucking questioning me during training, or I really will kick you off the team- or you’re gonna put that fucking mouth of yours to good use for once."
Like there was any question about that.
You settle more comfortably onto your knees and wait, but he doesn’t do anything more than pulling his waistband down below his cock and stroking it in front of you. And fuck, it was going to be a generous mouthful, the girth of him impressive even in Adam’s huge hands, if he ever got around to doing anything about it. “Are you going to do something with that,” you snark, and his eyes narrow. “Or do you have to wait for the women in your life to do everything for you-”
He takes the opportunity your open mouth presents him and thrusts his hips forward, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat, triggering the muscles there to clench hard before he retreats until just the tip is left in your mouth. “I was hoping you’d take some fucking initiative,” he snaps, “but I guess just like with the fighting you’re all bark and no bite. If you want me to just use you like a fucking slut then that’s what I’ll do.”
He applies the slightest bit of pressure to the hinge of your jaw to get you to open up wider, and this time his entry is slow and controlled as he fills your mouth with the heavy weight of his cock, the taste of him salty and dark across your tongue. You moan around him, the sound unable to escape with how fully he takes up the space between your lips, and the vibrations make his hips jerk.
You reach a hand up to wrap around the substantial length that you don’t have in the wet cavern of your mouth yet, and he reprimands you with a harsh tug on your hair. When you glare up at him, he smirks; his golden eyes are a little glazed over, a flushed tint to his cheeks. “No fucking hands,” he tells you. “You got yourself into this with just your mouth, that’s how you’re gonna get out of it, too.” He keeps his grip on your locks to guide your head, pulling you further down onto his cock with a guttural groan tearing from his throat. Your own throat tenses at the intrusion, a blockage of your air from the inside rather than the out, and your eyes water at the strain of trying to breathe through your nose before he pulls out enough that you can breathe again.
It’s so fucking good. You don’t think he would react kindly to you slipping a hand under your training shorts so you refrain from doing so, instead simply rocking your hips against nothing while you let him use you to take out his frustrations- fair enough, since you had caused them.
Adam keeps a steady rhythm while he fucks your face, your mouth open and lax for him to use as he pleases; only occasionally does he push in a little further, letting the head of his cock dip into the wet clutch of your throat and bump against your soft palate. “That’s fucking right,” he pants as he notices the tears that stream down your cheeks- he uses the thumb of the hand still holding your mouth open to brush an errant drop away from your cheekbone. “You look good like this- fuck, I would have let you choke on my cock sooner if I knew that’s what was gonna finally shut you the fuck up.” You feel the thick vein along the bottom of his length jump with his words where it rubs against your tongue and you know he’s close, the thought of it making you whine around him.
He grunts at the feeling, hips losing their steady movements and his hand tightening in your hair, yanking your head forward and back over him- and then he pulls completely out suddenly, his fist clenched tight around the base of his cock. “Say you fucking want it,” he demands, tugging your hair so your heads tilts enough that you have nowhere to look but at him. Sweat drips down his forehead and chest, darkening the fabric of his shirt so you can see the coarse hair beneath it. “Say you want my cum and maybe I’ll give it to you, even though you don’t fucking derserve it. Come on.” He bumps the head of his cock against your lips and your tongue darts out to greet it, the shock of salt across your tongue enough to break your resolve.
“Please,” you whisper desperately, your voice raspy and rough from how long Adam had been at it. “Fuck, please, Adam-”
“You gonna stop fucking talking back to me? Questioning me?” His hand resumes a slow stroke, the tip glistening with fluid that drips onto the mats below you when he pulls away from your eager tongue.
Fuck no. Not when this was the result it got you. “Not in front of the rest of the squad?” You offer as a compromise, and you can see him considering it before he relents. He wanted your mouth back on him more than he wanted a promise of peace- and honestly, you think he kind of likes the sass.
He parts your lips with his prick again, pushing deep with a single thrust. “I’ll take it,” he groans, and his hips are pistoning once again, not being as careful about not choking this time as he chases his release with the slick hole your mouth provides him. “Fuck, I’m gonna fucking cum- fuck, yes-”
He swells in your mouth and spills himself. There’s a couple hot pulses of spend that shoot down your throat and coat your tongue, the last couple of shots streaking across your face and lips when he pulls back, still fisting his cock to coax the last drops out and onto your lips.
The taste is thick and bitter, lingering long after you’ve swallowed. But you’ve never been so turned on in your life, the ache between your thighs transforming into an inferno at the look he gives you, still rocking your hips against the air. He drops to his knees on the mat with you, shoving his hand under the waistband of your training shorts and tracing the folds of your pussy with his thick fingers. “Fuck me, that’s hot,” he mutters. “You got like this just letting me toss you around and suck me off, huh? You want my fingers?” You nod, face flaming, and he brushes the pad of a digit across your clit, your hips jolting. “You want my cock?”
“Please,” you murmur, the sound soft, your head dropping onto his shoulder. “Please, Adam.”
His head turns, lips against your ear as he whispers- “that’s too fucking bad.” And then his hand is yanking out of your shorts and he’s standing, the movement dislodging your head against his shoulder and tipping you sideways onto the mat. From your vantage point on the floor, you see that cocky smirk of his is back in place despite the sweat that drips from his hairline, the flush of his cheeks after a damn good orgasm. “Fucking told you in the beginning that being a mouthy brat doesn’t get rewarded- you have fun taking care of that yourself.” He points finger-guns towards your shorts before bringing the hand he had dipped into your panties to his mouth, and the sputter of indignation you manage doesn’t get much farther than your throat as he sucks your slick from his digits with a mean wink. “Let’s try this again sometime when you learn how to show some respect to your fucking superiors.”
By the time you’ve managed to get yourself back into a somewhat upright position, he’s scooped his mask and robes off the floor and flown out of the training room. The slam of the door echoes in the now empty space, along with your frustrated groan as you fall onto your back.
We're finishing up week two! We've got one more ultra hot story coming up from @synamartia (who also made our stunning Masterlist where you can see everything that's been written so far, including some absolute bangers from @fraugwinska @minkdelovely @sugoi-writes and @hazelfoureyes) and then we're on to week three!
Everything is moving so quickly, and y'all are in for some treats for the rest of the month! 😈
(As always, thank you to my beloved Frau for making my banners for this event- I love youuuu 💗)
Summary: In helping Charlie, some magic goes awry and Lucifer and Alastor swap bodies for a week. The usual shenanigans occur (and lead to boning)
Tags: Lucifer has a vagina; body swap shenanigans
Fuck.
Fuck fuck fuck.
The last thing that Lucifer had expected three days ago was getting stuck in the body of the Radio Demon thanks to his daughter’s lack of magical training. He had assured her he wasn’t upset- and he wasn’t, really- but that was before he had awoken this morning after insisting they sleep in their own, original bedrooms with a throbbing erection that he couldn’t decide if he was allowed to touch or not.
One the one hand, this was technically his body for the next couple of days still. And with it being his consciousness in here, he didn’t think, ethically, there would be anything wrong with touching.
On the other hand, Alastor would probably kill him as soon as he found out- and he would find out, Lucifer was sure of it. Also on that same hand was the knowledge that when his mind was back in his own body, he would remember what it felt like- how Alastor’s gasps sounded as he pleasured himself, the weight of his cock in his hand as he stroked it, how-
Fuck, that wasn’t helping.
There was another little part of his brain reminding him that Alastor would be respecting his body. That the Radio Demon wasn’t interested in sex, and that anything below Lucifer’s belt would likely be ignored in favor of seeing if he could use his angelic powers since they were tied to the body and not the mind. Alastor also wouldn’t be touching himself if he were in his own body.
Maybe that was the cause of the problem though. If Alastor was ignoring his body’s needs, it made sense that the persistent erection wouldn’t go away- he needed release. And in theory, Lucifer could provide that.
He bites his lips as he contemplates, wincing when Alastor’s sharp fucking teeth pierce the sensitive skin. Just to test, he palms himself over the blanket- and Alastor’s hips buck into the faint sensation, the slight friction feeling far, far too good. He holds onto the hope that Alastor would forgive him as he slips his hands under the covers, below the waistband of the deer’s stupidly comfortable pajama bottoms.
The first touch to his cock makes Lucifer moan, and it’s Alastor’s voice that rings out when he circles his fingers around the base and strokes. It was thicker than Lucifer’s own, when he opted for that set of equipment, and filled his hand perfectly, the skin silky smooth and hot under his palm as he set a steady rhythm. He wonders if he could convince Alastor to fuck him when they’re back in their respective bodies- Lucifer could always change what he had to offer on his lower body depending on Alastor’s preference, but whichever hole the Radio Demon wanted Lucifer would be more than happy to oblige if he could have this inside of him. His grip grows slick as the cock in his hand leaks, Lucifer’s thoughts making Alastor’s body react.
He pictures Alastor doing the same thing to his body- fisting his cock or pumping fingers inside of himself depending on what manifested in response to the arousal, caught in a cycle of crying out and being more turned on by the sound of Lucifer’s voice moaning out his name. He knows it's a pointless fantasy- if Alastor was doing anything with his body, it was probably just pinching and poking and prodding to see what weak spots the King had so he could use them to his advantage down the line- but it’s an effective one. He feels Alastor’s balls drawing up tighter to his body, just on the precipice of release. He opens his mouth to moan out his own name, just to know what it sounded like in Alastor’s static filter-
“Why do you suddenly have a vagina?” The doors to his private quarters fling open, and Lucifer opens his eyes to see his body centered in the doorframe- Alastor had come, his cheeks aflame and his eyebrow creased. Was that what he looked like when he was angry? “I was minding my business this morning, just waking up, and now there’s- this,” he snaps, gesturing at Lucifer’s lower body.
And Lucifer knows with startling clarity exactly what happened, having been in his body for millenia and having been in relatively close quarters to Alastor for almost a year.
He had caught his own scent on his sheets and Lucifer’s body reacted like it always did- like a fertile doe ready for the strong buck it had scented. Sure, it was a little embarrassing to be in a meeting with Charlie and suddenly realize his genitals had changed when Alastor walked by and wafted his scent by him, but Lucifer was used to that.
Alastor, obviously, was not.
He tries as casually as he can to remove his hand from Alastor’s dick, but of course he notices- he might not have his monocle but in Lucifer’s body he would have perfect vision, certainly enough to see the subtle shift of the covers as Lucifer released his weeping cock. “What are you- have you been doing this the whole time?” He stalks further into the room, the door slamming behind him, and Lucifer wonders if he could actually die trapped in a Sinner’s body like this.
“Hold on, Al, just- wait, what are you doing?”
Because the sight he was seeing didn’t make sense as Alastor used Lucifer’s limbs to climb atop the bed, straddling his body’s waist and grinding down.
“Do I smell like this to you all the time?” He asks incredulously. “I want to devour you.”
The words travel through Lucifer’s brain and manifest in the form of Alastor’s cock straining, hips bucking up against the wet heat he finds from his own body. “Fuck, Alastor, slow- slow down!” He panics, when Alastor snaps his fingers (of course he figured out how to use the most basic of Lucifer’s magic) and the pants on the King’s body disappear while shoving the blankets down below Alastor’s waist. Lucifer garbles out some sort of noise when his hands wrap around Alastor’s cock again, slotting up against the slick folds of Lucifer’s cunt- and fuck, he really needed to stop this or they were both gonna regret it-
He grips his hands onto the waist of the body that Alastor inhabits and forces him to still- and shit, had he always been so slight? No wonder Alastor was always making comments about his size, when one of the Radio Demons hands could easily encompass nearly his whole thigh. When their eyes meet, Lucifer can hardly belief his own face was capable of such an expression; eyes glazed over, cheeks flushed, a bit of drool that started to drip from the side of his mouth. “Fucking Satan, you don’t actually want this,” he mutters. “You’re just- my body is reacting to your body and scent the way it always does, but that doesn’t-”
“Lucifer-”
“And I’m sorry! I just- it was so hard, I couldn’t help it- but I promise I won’t touch again, we can just forget about this-”
“Lucifer.”
“-and I can move out if you’re uncomfortable after Charlie fixes us, and once you’re back in your own body you won’t feel like this anymore-”
“The body I am in does not matter,” Alastor snaps, ceasing Lucifer’s static-laden babble. “Do you think I’m an idiot? Do you think you would have woken with that between your thighs had you not insisted on sleeping in our own beds?” He shifts Lucifer’s body enough to weaken Alastor’s hands on his waist, dropping the King’s weight back onto his lower body and giving a slow roll of his hips. Lucifer drops his head into the pillow and moans, the heat of him near unbearable. “My sudden arrival was not due to anger but frustration- imagine my surprise when I’ve been touching a cock for three days and it suddenly has magically become a slick hole that I have little experience with.”
Lucifer is so startled by the filthy words that he lets go of his waist completely, giving Alastor the free reign he needs to line up properly and start slowly sinking down on his own cock using Lucifer’s pussy- he was starting to lose sense of the possessive pronouns in play if he was being honest. All that mattered was one of them was inside the other and it was apparently exactly where both of them wanted to be.
Tight, silken warmth envelopes him, and he feels the sudden weight of Alastor’s antlers growing atop his head, digging harshly into the headboard. He hadn’t fucked anyone since Lilith had left, certainly not with his pussy, so the walls that clenched around him gripped like a merciless vice, velvety soft and slick with desire. He found the sense of mind to dig Alastor’s claws into his body’s hips again, pulling him down harshly and punching a moan from his chest with the force of it.
This was how Alastor would experience it, Lucifer realized, when they were back in their own bodies. This was the sensation he would have wrapped around his cock, the body held in his hands soft and supple and pliant- if anything, Lucifer would make more noise being fucked so well.
Alastor makes a soft, broken sound above him, Lucifer’s face contorted in frustration. “It’s not enough,” he pants, “why is it not enough? I can fucking- feel it, like a bone about to break but I can’t finish.”
He takes one of his hands, guiding his own fingers to the sensitive clit at the apex of the angel’s thighs. When Alastor takes over, brushing across the swollen bundle of nerves, the body he occupies jerks- inner walls tense around Alastor’s cock, twitching and fluttering at the sudden onslaught of pleasure. “Oh, fuck,” Alastor moans in Lucifer’s voice, and Lucifer has to agree. It made everything that much more intense as Alastor started furiously rubbing, free hands coming down to sink claws into his own body’s chest as his hips bucked wildly, chasing the sensation. The sounds in the room were filthy, spurring Lucifer into digging Al’s feet into the bedding and thrusting up to meet him. It has to be the right move, because Alastor whimpers above him, eyes flying open to meet Lucifer’s.
“Please don’t regret this,” Lucifer says, radio filter broken with feedback that Alastor can evidently still understand. “Please, I’m begging you, don’t-”
“Never,” he snarls, and Lucifer’s horns and wings spring forth, blocking what little light was coming from the room, creating the perfect darkness for the glow of the King’s eyes as Alastor stared down at him. “You have no idea how I’ve waited- how I’ve craved you- to know that my scent alone brings your body to this state is bliss,” he pants, “that I can never live without knowing again and again.” His whole body is tensing, fingers working hard between his legs before he lets out a whine, collapsing to press their mouths together as he shudders into a strong orgasm .
The rhythmic clenching around the sensitive hardness of Alastor’s cock has him cumming, sharp jolts of ecstasy causing him to spill into his own body, hot pulses of release that flood and leak from Lucifer’s messy cunt. His brain feels fuzzy, head aching from the weight of the antlers, muscles sore from vigorous movement that Alastor’s body clearly wasn’t used to. The last bit of his orgasm has his cock twitching inside the still fluttering walls, a sensation that makes Alastor shudder on top of him and moan weakly into his mouth.
It’s an odd experience, to taste the way one’s own sounds of pleasure sound. He hopes that when they’ve returned to their own bodies that Alastor will find it enjoyable as well, Lucifer’s panting breath along his tongue, lips brushing together.
Maybe there was part of Lucifer hoping that the act would put them back into their own bodies so they could repeat it, but minutes pass and nothing changes but the slowing breath of the body that rested on top of him. He brings one of Alastor’s hands up to card through his own soft blonde hair, knowing exactly the pleasurable tingles that it would send down his spine.
“Give me ten minutes,” Alastor says muffled into his chest, “and we can go again.”
“I think you mean give me ten minutes,” he says, though he can already feel the jump of his cock in response to Alastor’s words. “I’m the one with the dick at the moment.”
“I’m aware. And I’m also aware of my body’s refractory period.” He trails a finger down his body’s fluffy chest, circling a nipple and making Lucifer release a warbled hiss. “I think there’s quite a bit that we can teach one another before we return to our own bodies, don’t you think?” He seems to take an answer from the sight of his signature grin, bringing their mouths together once more with a contented sigh.
Welcome to Kinktober 2024 everyone!!! I'm so stoked to be part of this with a group of such amazing and talented writers- you can find the Masterlist for the Coven right here, where everyone else's phenomenal works will be compiled and updated so you know what's on the menu and what's already been served 😈
thanks to the coven for letting me be a part of this super exciting month 😁 @hazelfoureyes @minkdelovely @sugoi-writes @synamartia (who made the stunning banner above), as well as my beloved @fraugwinska who made all of my work banners bc she is a gem and I love her 💗
Summary: Vox owns a club, Val insisted on putting a gloryhole room in it. Imagine his surprise when two unexpected guests show up on either side of a wall
Maybe Vox should have been paying a little more attention to the cameras at the entrances, rather than watching Valentino try to recruit more whores (on his dime) at the bar. His short-circuit during a fight with the Radio Demon the other day had perhaps played a large part in six of Val’s actor’s getting flash-fried during a pool shoot, and he was trying to get back into the moth’s good graces; he had given him the company credit card, got him a new Carmine angelic gun, he had even agreed to the suggestion of putting a fucking gloryhole room in the back of his new club. His eyes had hardly left Val all evening, and it wasn’t until he noticed a familiar screen malfunction from his peripheral that he realized who had entered his club undetected and slipped into the very room that had made Val’s anger with him diminish.
Maybe if he had been watching anything besides Val he would have seen Alastor’s shadow slip in through a window to let him in the employee entrance and walk unbothered to the room with the holes in the wall.
As soon as he noticed he choked on his tongue, hacking up a lung as well as he could without turning away from the feed. It really was fucking him- the screen was glitchy but he could still see the red of his suit and his fucking hair, that goddamn cane that he rested against the wall in a position that made it seem like it was staring directly into the camera back at Vox.
What the fuck was he doing here? And more importantly- which side of the wall was he on?
Because fuck if he remembered what system Val had set up for determining which side of the wall was for sticking your cock through and which was for the warm hole on the other end. He thinks he deleted it from his drive as soon as Val mentioned it, so thoroughly unconcerned with anything but appeasing him that he hadn’t bothered to listen. And he’s cursing himself now, as Alastor divests himself of his coat and removes his monocle.
He could go down there, Vox realizes. He could put himself on the other side of the wall of Alastor, and Al would never know. Vox would know though, and it would fuel every jerk-off session for the rest of his afterlife. He hadn’t thought Alastor was interested in this sort of thing, had never even fucking considered that it was a possibility beyond his fantasies back when they were still friends. He stands, ready to zap into the cables for the short trip across town when the door to the other side of the room opens.
And twice in less than five minutes Vox feels like he’s low on oxygen, because no fucking way was that Lucifer.
He lets himself plop back down into his chair, wishing he had moved faster... but curious now as to where this would go- it was no secret that the king had almost as much beef as he did with Alastor. Maybe if he let this play out he could use the footage down the line as leverage- blackmail Lucifer, humiliate Alastor, maybe both depending on how desperate they were to keep the video under wraps. There’s a conversation happening on the screen, but he doesn’t care so much about that, can’t pick up their hushed voices anyway. He starts focusing again when Lucifer strips his shirt off and starts to undo his belt, a golden flush beneath his skin as he pulls out his cock.
A moment passes, then two- Vox isn’t sure he’s even breathing anymore as he waits for the next move, for confirmation of which side of the wall was which. His head drops back against his chair with a regretful groan when Alastor sinks to his knees, hands pressed against the thin wall that bisects the room, his mouth open and waiting.
Lucifer wastes no time, dragging his fist up and down his shaft twice before he feeds it through the hole, hips pressed flush to the wood and hanging tightly to the handles that Val had insisted on installing. He resolves to focus more on Alastor- the whole thing was recorded anyway, he could always screen an encore- who presses a soft kiss to the tip of the king’s cock before licking down his length, his eyes appearing to flutter from what Vox could see through the distortion. The movements of his tongue are long and languid, like he’s savoring the taste of it between every swipe, fingers curled into claws against the wood.
It could have been him at the other end of that worshipful mouth. The thought wails in his head like a dying animal as he watches one of Alastor’s hands come down from the wall to palm between his legs, finally coming back to the tip of Lucifer’s dick and taking it into his mouth.
“Fuck,” Vox finally hears the microphones pick up, and it has to be Lucifer because Al’s mouth is now full of cock. “Fuck, that’s so good.” His hips buck forward and Alastor’s moan is muffled but still staticky enough to make the audio crackle in Vox’s ears. “Come on, honey, you can take a little more.”
Was that an error message crossing his face? Maybe- he dismisses it with a subtle shake of his head, unwilling to take his eyes off the screen for even a moment as Alastor heeds the king’s words and takes more into his mouth, the hand in his lap fumbling with his buttons to free his own cock and fisting it with a whimper and slow, even strokes after he shoves his pants below his ass, shirt falling down to cover him in the back. Vox is following him before he can even think about it, his hand diving down his pants and taking himself in hand while he watches Lucifer close his eyes in ecstasy, panting harshly against the wall.
“Baby,” Lucifer gasps, and who knew the King of Hell was one for pet names with anonymous sex? “Oh fuck, that’s it, fucking perfect- ohhhh…” His moan trails off as Alastor leans further forward, taking more of the king’s cock into his mouth, and fuck, Vox can see the bulge of it down his fucking throat as he sinks down, nose pressed to the soft, curly hair at the base. His own prick twitches in his hand, and Vox gives it a couple of pumps in time with the slow bobbing of Alastor’s head, tip leaking and easing his way as he jerks to the sight on the screen before him.
After a few minutes of this, Lucifer pumping slowly in and out of the warm, wet cavern he’s been presented with, Alastor pulls back- his eyes are teary, voice absolutely ruined when he speaks, and his cock is weeping with precum where he holds it in his hand. “Please,” he says, just loud enough for the mics to pick up, and he’s smart enough to leave the static filter he usually has off so the person on the other side doesn’t recognize him. “Please, more-”
“I’ve only got so much to give you here, sugar,” Lucifer remarks from the other side, a cocky smirk in place. “I might have something to help you out though, s-sweet thing,” he stutters out, as Alastor takes him to the hilt again. Lucifer’s eyes flutter shut, his brow creased in concentration as he snaps his fingers. A golden portal opens on either side of the wall; on the King’s side it’s just about level with his shoulders, and for Alastor…
For Alastor it was behind his crouched figure. Lucifer releases the handle held in his right arm and slips his hand through the portal, coming out the other side and petting a hand gently down Alastor’s spine. Alastor jerks at the contact, his eyes going wide and panicked for a moment before Lucifer offers him a couple calming shushes. “Don’t worry, I can’t see anything,” he promises. “I just thought I’d offer you a hand- you’re welcome to turn around and check if you want.”
Alastor’s whole body shivers, his ears twitching on top of his head before he appears to concede. He pulls off the dick for a moment to mutter, “if you make me regret this, I will eat you,” and then he’s back to choking on Lucifer’s cock like it’s the most important thing to him in the world. He doesn’t even turn around to make sure he was telling the truth.
“Unholy fucking shit,” Vox whispers under his breath as the pale fingers of Lucifer’s hand bunch Alastor’s shirt up, exposing the soft curve of his ass and the hidden fluff of his tail. Another snap and they’re dripping with lube before he brings them to the cleft, moving too slowly to be doing anything more than rubbing at the puckered entrance with the pads of his fingers. Vox was cursing himself for skimping out on the cameras back here- he should have done with the ones on the track that he could shift around the room, because he was at the point that he would give up his entire empire to get a better view of what was going on down there.
Already, Alastor was louder; his whimpers echoed in the bare room, his hand moving faster against his own cock (a rhythm that Vox found himself imitating without conscious thought). Vox can tell when a finger actually enters him, his whole body jerking at the contact before his hips start pushing back against the intrusion.
Over the noises that Alastor was making, Lucifer kept a steady stream of spewing from his own mouth as he slowly worked another finger in. “Fuck, so tight- wish I could fuck you, angel, you’re so good for me. Bet you’d feel fucking perfect- just like your throat, fuck,” he hisses, his hips snapping forward, his fingers thrusting at the same pace. “Shit, you’re gonna make me come- tell me what you need, baby, want you to finish with me.”
Alastor pulls off his cock with a pop, his guard evidently down enough -finally- that there was no distortion on the screen; Vox could see with stunning clarity the tears that ran down his cheeks, the flush of his face, how unfocused and fucking needy he looked from having a dick in his mouth and fingers inside of him. “More, please, I’m so close…” His own erection is straining, precum drooling from the tip over his fingers, and the sight has Vox’s mouth watering, something in his head crackling at the sudden excess moisture.
“Whatever you say, darling,” Lucifer chuckles, and he guides himself back into Alastor’s mouth with a hard thrust of his hips, fingers pistoning with sudden intensity that Al clearly wasn’t expecting if the cry he lets out around Lucifer’s cock is any indication. And Lucifer seems to be very familiar with where the prostate is, because Vox can tell when he hits it dead-on. Alastor’s entire body trembles, hips bucking forward and back with every brush of Lucifer’s fingers against that sensitive spot, his muffled noises growing in volume and desperation. “Fuck, fuck, I’m- oh fuck, cumming,” Lucifer mutters, hip held tightly between his teeth as he throws his head back with a harsh groan. Alastor stays where he is, throat moving as he evidently swallows all that the ruler of Hell has to give him before he spills over his own fingers with a muffled shout.
Vox doesn’t even get to see the aftermath of it. He comes so hard across his desk that he blows a fuse in his head, connection to the security system short circuiting and causing the entire grid to go dark.
📻🍎📻🍎📻🍎
While Vox dealt with the whole city block of the club being offline, Alastor used his shadows to shift to Lucifer’s side of the wall, peering up at the camera that no longer held a blinking light. “How long do you suppose until he reaches out to one of us, mon ange?” He asks, sliding an arm around Lucifer’s shoulders to pull him to his chest.
“Hard to say,” the King replies, snapping his fingers to open a golden portal for them to step into, back to the hotel. “I’d say a week, just so he has time to jerk off to the footage before he bargains it away.”
By the time the club powers back up, Vox’s eyes searching desperately to see if either of them were still there, Alastor’s echoing laugh had faded from the room.
OH MY GOD this has been such a wild ride! I'm so excited to have been a part of this and gotten to collaborate with such talented and amazing people- please go look at everything else we've done over the course of Kinktober on our beautiful Masterlist by the lovely @synamartia. Another living shoutout to the wives @fraugwinska (who has made me one more stunning banner) @hazelfoureyes @minkdelovely @su
With no further delay, for a Happy Halloween- the ducky ball gag fic!
Summary: Lucifer makes a bet with Alastor, who doesn't think to question the verbiage.
Tags: questionable bets, rimming
“I don’t know why you insist on using those portals of yours,” Alastor tells him one night, sat at the bar for a drink. Husk had already retired for the evening, Angel Dust was nowhere to be seen, and Charlie and Vaggie were out for a date, the first in a while with the craziness that had been the Hotel for some time now. Alastor had assured the princess that he would look over the place, and it had been quiet enough that he found himself agreeing to Lucifer’s offer to join him for a drink. They didn’t often meet in public spaces alone together, just in case- they opted to keep their burgeoning relationship to the confines of their respective suites, having not decided that it was time yet to alert everyone to their changing feelings.
No one would have thought that something akin to romance had blossomed between them- least of all Lucifer. But they were here now, their evenings spent together between either set of their sheets whether the activities were carnal or not. Sometimes he just laid there with his head on Alastor’s chest and ran his fingers through the soft fur that coated the demon’s body, glad for the moments between them that were soft and quiet; not a king and a sinner, but two people appreciating one another’s company.
Other times, like now, Alastor insisted on pushing his buttons even when there was nothing to be gained from it. “What do you mean?” He asks, though he knows the conversation is bound to become one of Alastor trying to one-up him in some way. That, at least, had never changed as they grew closer.
Alastor waves a hand dismissively. “They’re so slow,” he says, his cheeks tinted with the effects of the alcohol and his speech absent of the staticky filter that he usually adorned. “Why, with powers such as yours one would think that you could simply teleport- travel via shadows, the likes. But you insist on the portals that take time to open before you can even step through.”
Lucifer rests his head in his hand and watches Alastor with a soft smile on his face. “I happen to like the portals,” he says, and Alastor waves him down again.
“Yes, but sometimes efficiency is more important than preference, yes?” He gives Lucifer a knowing smile. “I’d go so far as to wager on my shadows being able to get me to the bedroom before you!”
Lucifer pauses at the wording- Alastor knew better than anyone that phrasing is key when making any sort of deal, and a bet fell into those rules as well. “I’m game,” he says carefully, and Alastor’s ears perk up. “What are your terms?”
“Oh, I was merely poking fun,” he says, trailing a finger down Lucifer’s arm. “But if you’d really like to test it, I’ll indulge you, darling. You’re welcome to think of a prize for the ‘winner’ if you’d like.”
Lucifer grins, and with a flourish of his hands he presents something that he had been working on in secret- a rubber duck with thick black straps that came off the sides, meant to be affixed to one’s head to hold their mouth open. It had really been a joke item, created on a whim from a teasing inquiry from Angel Dust about whether a rubber duck could be a suitable ball gag in a pinch. Alastor had been busy with Overlord business, and Lucifer…
Well, Lucifer had a lot of free time on his hands when Alastor wasn’t available.
Alastor’s eyes narrow when Lucifer shows off the rounded end that went into one’s mouth. “First one to your bedroom wins,” he says, holding his other hand out to shake, “and the loser has to wear this for… oh, let’s say at least an hour.”
He can see the gears turn in Alastor’s head- not evening considering the possibility of his loss, most likely, and instead picturing Lucifer with the thing in his mouth, petulant and cross and unable to speak for an hour. He knew it was enticing, the idea of shutting him up with one of his own inventions.
The angel himself hadn’t initially had any plans on using it with his lover, but Alastor did love to run his mouth. And he knew the blush of humiliation that would grace his face the whole time would be stunning.
Lucifer resists the urge to cheer when Alastor takes his hand and shakes it with no questioning or edits of the words he had spoken. “Very well, my dear- I suppose I shall see you in a moment.” His grin is wicked, self assured as he fades into the murky shadows beneath him and vanishes.
Once he’s gone, Lucifer allows himself a single loud whoop! of excitement before he stands and steps-
Straight into Alastor’s bedroom, reality merely conforming around him to put him where he needs to be, which is just close enough to Alastor’s bed to take a seat. The surge of satisfaction he feels when Alastor slips under the door with the shadows- mere seconds after having been in the bar- is immeasurable, and only grows when he spots Lucifer lounging on the edge of his mattress.
“Impossible,” he says, and Lucifer definitely doesn’t chuckle at the look on his face at being bested. “You- where is the portal?” He demands as he stalks closer, and Lucifer runs his hands calmingly down the sinner’s arms.
“I didn’t use the portal- that wasn’t part of the deal.” He grins when Alastor’s jaw drops, realizing he’d been had. “I prefer the portals, but I have faster ways to travel- they mess up my hair,” he adds with a wink, using a hand to slick back a stray hair that had escaped his neat quaff.
“You cheated,” Alastor huffs, but Lucifer can tell by the blush that graces his cheeks that he knows the bet is done- and Alastor had lost. “Clearly the implication was that you would use the portals.”
“You of all people know how important the wording of a deal is- that you didn’t think to correct it is on you.” He takes Alastor’s hand in his, tracing his fingers over the palm before releasing him and presenting the ducky gag, straps held aloft for Alastor to see. “Let’s get that timer started, shall we?”
To his credit, Alastor offers no resistance. He sits on the bed and opens his mouth wide, allowing Lucifer to insert the rounded end to his mouth and affix the straps around his head, carding his blackened fingers through the soft red strands as he does so. He makes sure it’s tight, and magics a timer to hover beside them- when Alastor tries to scoff out a noise, the duck wheezes out a loud squeak!
The effect is immediate: Alastor’s face goes as red as his hair, eyebrows creased in delightful embarrassment that Lucifer decides right away that he wants to keep right where it was. He had forgotten about the noises it made, but now he had the potential to make this particular win so much more entertaining. A jackpot for both of them.
“How embarrassing! You’d think a fawn would bleat but this is even better- the big, bad Radio Demon; all squeaky and cute,” he says delightedly, and Alastor’s glare is red hot and burning. He turns to straddle Alastor’s thighs, arms resting casually atop his shoulders and letting a cocky smirk take over his features. “I wonder what else I could do to get this guy to make a little noise,” he says coyly, tapping lightly at the beak of the duck.
Alastor rolls his eyes, and Lucifer takes it as a challenge; he tangles his fingers into Alastor’s hair and grinds his hips down in the same motion, resulting in a lovely quack from the duck when Alastor bites down in an attempt to stifle the sound. He also feels the beginning of Alastor’s sizable erection growing beneath him, hot and hard already from the minor stimulation Lucifer had provided. Alastor’s eyes narrow at Lucifer’s actions, his antlers thickening atop his head at the challenge that’s being presented.
Lucifer coaxes him to lay on his back, pressing soft kisses to his skin as the king slowly unbuttons his shirt, letting his long and agile tongue squirm along the line of the scar Adam had left on his dear. He was rewarded every now and then with a poorly repressed squeak from the duck, and Alastor’s blush spread down his neck and chest with every one. Lucifer dismounted the Sinner’s lap to remove his trousers, curling a hand over his swollen cock and giving him a couple firm strokes.
SQUEEEEEEEEEAK
The noise the duck makes rises in pitch at the end, and Alastor’s hands fly up from being twisted in the sheets to cover his face, the duck peeking out underneath like it was mocking him. His ears were flat against his head, limbs trembling when Lucifer leaned down and licked a stripe along the turgid flesh in his hands.
“Come on, Bambi,” Lucifer coos, and Alastor parts his fingers enough to shoot him a glare- one that held such frustrated humiliation and a promise of revenge that he felt his own cock harden, still trapped in his slacks. He runs his fingers in broad, curious strokes over Alastor’s lightly furred thighs, muscular and thick.“What do you say we make another bet, huh? You last until the timer goes off and you can pick the prize- anything you want.” He sees Alastor’s crimson gaze dart to the hovering timer, which Lucifer turns so he can see the remaining forty-some odd minutes counting down. An eyebrow quirks alongside an inquisitive quack from the duck, and Lucifer smiles fondly at the question he knows Alastor is asking. “If I win? We get to use this again.” He reaches up and delicately traces the straps of the gag with his fingers, feeling the heat of Alastor’s face under his touch- his cock twitches pressed into the fabric of Lucifer’s pants. “Deal?”
Alastor rolls his eyes but nods, taking his hands from his face to reach for the buttons of the King’s shirt; his eyebrows crease when Lucifer leans away, trailing his fingers back down Alastor’s body, digging into the flesh of his thighs before slipping underneath them and pushing.
The Overlord sits up on his elbows, a series of noises escaping the duck as he does. “This okay?” Lucifer asks sweetly, one arm braced on the backs of Alastor’s thighs to expose his ass, his cute tail whipping back and forth across the covers, and the force of his groan is so strong that Lucifer can feel it vibrate down his whole body. He doesn’t protest or try to move away though, waving his hand in a ‘get on with it’ motion, and Lucifer tries not to let his excitement be too obvious as he leans in and swipes his tongue across the clenched muscle laid bare before him.
They didn’t do this often, even though they both enjoyed it immensely. Alastor would get too into his head about the way he sounded, often muffling himself into a pillow or biting his arm to suppress it, despite Lucifer telling him in no uncertain terms that he thought the noises Alastor made were the sexiest things he had heard in his existence.
It seemed with the ducky gag in place, he had no such reservations. As Lucifer worked the dark bud until he could push his tongue inside, all he could hear from the deer was a series of soft squeaks, drawn out squeals of the rubber noise maker inside the gag, the occasional loud QUACK when he bit down hard as Lucifer brought a hand up to stroke his cock in an attempt to secure his victory.
He knows all the tells of Alastor’s body, and he brings him right to the brink twice fucking him on his tongue, easing off the first time and chuckling into the plush skin of Alastor’s cheeks when his hands are forcibly removed the second time before he can reach the edge. He eats Alastor out with vigor, thrusting his tongue hard into the hole that has softened for him, pliant and eagerly clenching around him. Alastor’s fingers are tangled messily into his hair, pulling at the golden strands as he fights back the rush of pleasure. Lucifer ruts his own cock into the bed, erection straining and leaking against his pants. He has no idea how much time has passed as he moans into Alastor, who squeaks through the duck in return.
He can feel the tremble in Alastor’s thighs as he approaches his release when the timer rings above him, the clinking of metal loud in the room as the ducky gag magically unfastens, a noise from the duck trailing off into one of Alastor’s rough, gravelly groans. He twists his fingers hard in Lucifer’s hair, dragging him away from his ass and back onto the bed.
“It would seem the victory is mine this time,” he says, his voice wrecked from the noises he had been making behind the gag. He presses his hips insistently into Lucifer’s, who snaps his fingers to remove his clothing and prepare himself in one magical motion. He feels the hot head of Alastor’s cock against him, teeth nipping dangerously at his ear. “And naturally, dearest, I intend to collect my prize immediately.”
