"Good," Alastor started, petting Lucifer's hair gently but a little tauntingly. Good boy. "But I don't intend to receive another angelic wound. And any other wound won't cause enough pain to buckle me."
Such a little worrywart... Alastor could fret about his life or death on his own time, and it didn't need to be on anyone else's shoulders.
"You're a surprisingly sensitive sort. Cute. I'll have to explore that later," Alastor added, letting his voice trail off lowly - let the devil catch those implications, he'd earned them.
He started, clutching the beads as he sent Alastor a look.
Oh. Okay. So he was well enough to be a cad again. Good to know. The funny thing about blood, however, is that it sort of did whatever it wanted, including raising the color in his face despite the look.
...You know what? Two can play that game.
"I see. You sure about that...? Your body lit up with these ones..." A scant brush against the edge of the bandage he'd placed at the neck. Surely he didn't mean all angelic wounds...
You're no angel, Lucifer, and honestly thank everything for that. The devil himself, the fallen angel - those bites had hurt, but it had been such a pleasant and blissful hurt. Not comparable in the slightest, especially since there was never a second that Alastor would have enjoyed feeling torn open and exposed to anyone besides Lucifer. Certainly not Adam.
...Vox's time had long passed.
Though Alastor had restrained any sign of his body trying to shudder, any blink or flinch of delight, his skin betrayed him by raising goosebumps as it tingled under that touch.
"You enjoy gentle as much as a little nibble, don't you. I can understand, it must feel pleasant to be treated like a precious gem," he teased fondly back, letting his fingers gently trace down Lucifer's scalp, petting him.
Was he making fun? What's wrong with gentle!? Oh, he had to show him. ...After he's better.
"When I get going, Bambi, you're sure tooooooghmmm..." Oh no. Not the head massages. Mercy. Have mercy...
"Youuuu're pretty and your voice is a good brandy..." We're sorry. Lucifer.exe has encountered an illegal operation and must shut down to prevent further deterioration.
Ooh, his voice, hmm? Pride swelled - Alastor was quite pleased with how his voice was, how it always got compliments both in life and afterlife. 'Pretty' was a harder sell, but the more Lucifer insists, it must be some sort of true.
"Good as brandy, hmm...? Have you wanted to hear my voice whispering sweet nothings to you, Cher? To say your name, my morning star?" he purred into Lucifer's ear, the soft popping of the radio filter warming his already warm voice as he continued to gently stroke that soft duck-tail hair. "I can whisper things just for you, Cher... things you can play on repeat whenever you want."
It was something that hung in him sometimes during idle conversation or overhearing bits and pieces. Lucifer found Alastor's voice pleasant, with and without the filter. But there were moments when it dipped into something, dropped the upper volume of bravado and felt rather... personal. Private.
He guessed he had a thing for crooners.
Hell with it all... though he had a brief and embarrassing catch in his breath, his attempt to shove the Radio Demon's head away from his ear was feeble, more coquettish than anything. You call him things like that, and he'll have so much trouble maintaining any level of composure.
Things just for him? Oh no... Oh, no...
"Fffffuck, you fight dirty, don't you...?" Give him time, and he'll melt into an awful puddle.
The push moved Alastor's face away, playing along - forceful men were such brutes and he had such a disdain for them. Instead Alastor chuckled, cupping marigold-tinged cheeks in his hands. Warm...
"You've got the sweet tooth of the two of us. You're too sweet for me," he murmured fondly, before humming a bit - that's right, that's the lyric of a song. He'll have to save that to sing to Lucifer later.
"A shining light in Hell's skies. Our sun. And you're all mine, tonight."
His tail was waving as he leaned into the touch, eyes hooded and full-on entranced.
Perhaps he was purring, all cocooned up in such delightful touch and attention that he didn't want to end. He practically had little hearts popping away.
This was in his wheelhouse. Thriving.
"Not just tonight, if you want. I can cancel everything, every meeting..." He set his hands to (gently) run up and down his front.
"Promises, promises..." Alastor chided gently, though he didn't mind the touch on his chest. Lucifer would feel it was far, far less tense than before - no surprise, given how much relief pulling the blessing from Adam's weapon had brought.
He was tantalizingly close. They could kiss, with how Alastor was cradling the man's face... but he drew it out instead, rubbing his thumbs in circles to trace the cute red blots on Lucifer's cheeks.
"We could have funny little games with meetings... ones where I could whisper in a way only you can hear it. Say things for your ears only," Alastor purred, smiling in a surprisingly gentle way at Lucifer. "Something subtle, to see you squirm with anticipation for the meeting to end... or we could attend that Goetia event, where I can lay on your lap and whisper in your ear. Who could possibly tell you no?"
There, he's been patient enough - Alastor rewards patience with a kiss, paying close mind to every twitch and exhale to study the king's reaction, to store it away as a trophy.
Nobody... nobody would. Oh, but the mental image of fighting, of using every ounce of his will to keep his composure as he was teased mercilessly with promises of so many things once the meeting was over was making him squirm a little bit.
These were things he also hadn't had in far, far too long. To feel anticipation again, to feel so bunched up and wanting to explode...
"You torment me..." Was the King of Hell... short of breath?
But who knew torture better than the Overlords, eh? He moaned into the kiss, body just short of catching fire, as he felt wound around a finger.
"Imagine the torment once I actually learn these things," Alastor chuckled. If his voice and simple touch did so much, they ought to help make the rest go more easily, he supposes. There's no intuitive guide... but Alastor found himself willing to learn.
"All the myriad ways to experiment... like dancing one's fingers over the keys of the piano, tickling them to create a new tune..."
There's a little pause - Alastor had been reflecting on their moments together. There were the obvious ones, like Lucifer getting flustered about Alastor talking about eating him, or licking his cut finger, or even being given a squeaky duck after a nightmare.
But that cheshire grin grew a little as a memory connected to his understanding.
"Why... now that I think about it, you made quite the expression when I detangled you using the tendrils."
It was hard not to relax and just soak up the pleasant touch, enjoying warm fingers caressing his ears so, so nicely. Alastor's eyes fluttered shut for a bit before he opened one to peek at Lucifer.
He'd started the day out quite roughly, buuuut... right now, the man looked quite happy. Relaxed.
Well weeeeell... if Lucifer's so eager, why not indulge him a little right now? That sounds fun.
Without much warning, tendrils are summoned silently, slipping up the back of Lucifer's shirt and writhing underneath the fabric as they coiled around him like snakes. Alastor's hands idly pulled back and he leaned his chin on his palm, like a man kicking back to enjoy a show.
"And miss that yelp of surprise? Not on your life~!" Alastor cheerfully chirped, chuckling in amusement. He watched as if relaxed, focused on moving the tendrils...
He couldn't feel much through them, but he didn't need to. He was fascinated, having them clumsily feel at every inch of skin. Lucifer was warm in his lap, and those faces and shivers are SO good.
But even the clumsiest of movement was enough to get him squirming a bit, eyes closed as he tried to articulate something, anything at all. Curse at him? No... no it was beyond the time for that.
"L-little harder... little slower..." He managed to get that out between breaths. Definitely not what he had in mind! But... but it was fine.
A little harder, a little slower, got it. One wrapped all the way around, squeezing like a snake as the other pressed and slid along Lucifer's side, teasing at his belt.
"Such a sight, indeed... don't forget our safe word~" Alastor said cheerfully, staring with no awareness of just how soft his gaze was getting. All he was thinking was how cute Lucifer was, flustered and marigold like this, embarrassed but eager.
He nodded, a minute gesture. Pie-thingy. He had to remember pie-thingy.
His tail snaked its way around the other man's waist, an anchor as the touch firmed and slowed. But there was a touch at his belt and it had him squirming again, give a short huff under his breath.
"Y-y'know, a king... should be casting down a punishment for... for torture..." He just opened an eye, only a peek, to look at him.
Only a peek? Hoh. Alastor tilted that chin with the lightest touch from his finger as the tendril wriggled under and lower, down the belly that was coiling heat, feeling and exploring in tantalizing touches.
"Oh, you ought to be proud. If you could see yourself right now, you would be," Alastor purred, enjoying the grip of the tail around his own waist. Alastor was feeling a little bit of heat, himself, but he was far too fixated on Lucifer himself.
The tilt had his eyes flutter open, but they were more than a little unfocused.
Would he be proud...? He wasn't sure. But he sure was a sight, sweating a little and fighting to keep himself still. He was failing. These touches were foreign, strangely soft and somehow slick without being slimy, and seemed to be touching everywhere all at once. They were better than hands...
His stomach knotted, jumped under the touch. His legs were trembling in their attempt to maintain their composure. But his hands blindly moved for the hem of Alastor's shirt, felt around.
No, he had to... he had to return the favor... surely it can't all just be him...!
Alastor's chest was still bare, but he didn't quite mind. The deer chuckled at that expression, that hurried look.
"Ah ah ah," he chided gently, a third tendril manifesting from behind Alastor to gently but firmly wrapping around Lucifer's wrists. Could the king tear the offending shadow apart with ease? Of course. But Lucifer always plays along, doesn't he?
"I'm paying attention to you. This is all about you, sha," Alastor purred in a teasing but low tone. He wasn't ready to get touched. And he had a sneaking suspicion Lucifer was rarely made the sole focus of attention like this... funny in its own right. "You're glowing, a charming shade of goldenrod... like a little sunflower," Alastor drawled, pinching Lucifer's cheek playfully even as the tendrils moved so luridly, gently squeezing and pulsing and roaming around under Lucifer's clothes with supernatural ease.
He really could. But the shadowy limb wound around his wrists and it snapped his eyes to focus, turned them to his. He briefly tested the binding with a little twist and felt his heart flutter.
Oh, he missed this.
But he puffed his cheeks at him for being chided, despite his eyes fogging over with an unambiguous need. His hands withdrew from where they'd touched him, instead bunched into calm fists and tucked against his chest.
The Council up above, and so much of Hell hardly focused on him, or even paid him heed at all. Most of it was his own fault. But to be like this had changed him entirely; his horns had budded in contrast to his position.
Who's the sunflower? He was the Most Hated Being-
Lucifer's body jumped, a brief and hardly-stifled moan leaving him. Was Alastor sure he was still figuring things out? ...Or was he just a fast learner...?
"I-I bet you say that to everybody," he managed, though his legs eased further apart, his arms lifted a little help make himself comfortable but give so much more room and opportunity to the tendrils.
"Only you, Lucifer," Alastor replied simply, smoothly. He saw how Lucifer was shifting and tried to accommodate and anticipate what the man wanted. More touch? Maybe a little more pressure... Alastor was careful not to squeeze anywhere too hard, for all he knows the man might bruise like a peach!
"Many people have wanted or even demanded this of me, but only you are seeing it," he added. Vox had wanted it so badly, had professed affections, had been obsessive, pleaded with him - but it just wasn't meant to be. There was a vindictive little satisfaction that he was giving this sort of treatment to someone on his own initiative, and that they were playing along and obeying him.
What a good little king. It made him cuter.
"Do tell if I'm going too hard or too gently," Alastor reminded. He could sense the heat building, the subtle start of sweating on Lucifer's skin, but he still had no idea how he was doing in the grand scheme of this act.
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divinetree2024-04-01 08:17 am
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Such a little worrywart... Alastor could fret about his life or death on his own time, and it didn't need to be on anyone else's shoulders.
"You're a surprisingly sensitive sort. Cute. I'll have to explore that later," Alastor added, letting his voice trail off lowly - let the devil catch those implications, he'd earned them.
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Oh. Okay. So he was well enough to be a cad again. Good to know. The funny thing about blood, however, is that it sort of did whatever it wanted, including raising the color in his face despite the look.
...You know what? Two can play that game.
"I see. You sure about that...? Your body lit up with these ones..." A scant brush against the edge of the bandage he'd placed at the neck. Surely he didn't mean all angelic wounds...
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...Vox's time had long passed.
Though Alastor had restrained any sign of his body trying to shudder, any blink or flinch of delight, his skin betrayed him by raising goosebumps as it tingled under that touch.
"You enjoy gentle as much as a little nibble, don't you. I can understand, it must feel pleasant to be treated like a precious gem," he teased fondly back, letting his fingers gently trace down Lucifer's scalp, petting him.
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"When I get going, Bambi, you're sure tooooooghmmm..." Oh no. Not the head massages. Mercy. Have mercy...
"Youuuu're pretty and your voice is a good brandy..." We're sorry. Lucifer.exe has encountered an illegal operation and must shut down to prevent further deterioration.
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"Good as brandy, hmm...? Have you wanted to hear my voice whispering sweet nothings to you, Cher? To say your name, my morning star?" he purred into Lucifer's ear, the soft popping of the radio filter warming his already warm voice as he continued to gently stroke that soft duck-tail hair. "I can whisper things just for you, Cher... things you can play on repeat whenever you want."
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He guessed he had a thing for crooners.
Hell with it all... though he had a brief and embarrassing catch in his breath, his attempt to shove the Radio Demon's head away from his ear was feeble, more coquettish than anything. You call him things like that, and he'll have so much trouble maintaining any level of composure.
Things just for him? Oh no... Oh, no...
"Fffffuck, you fight dirty, don't you...?" Give him time, and he'll melt into an awful puddle.
"Oh, but I burn for sweet nothings..."
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"You've got the sweet tooth of the two of us. You're too sweet for me," he murmured fondly, before humming a bit - that's right, that's the lyric of a song. He'll have to save that to sing to Lucifer later.
"A shining light in Hell's skies. Our sun. And you're all mine, tonight."
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Perhaps he was purring, all cocooned up in such delightful touch and attention that he didn't want to end. He practically had little hearts popping away.
This was in his wheelhouse. Thriving.
"Not just tonight, if you want. I can cancel everything, every meeting..." He set his hands to (gently) run up and down his front.
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He was tantalizingly close. They could kiss, with how Alastor was cradling the man's face... but he drew it out instead, rubbing his thumbs in circles to trace the cute red blots on Lucifer's cheeks.
"We could have funny little games with meetings... ones where I could whisper in a way only you can hear it. Say things for your ears only," Alastor purred, smiling in a surprisingly gentle way at Lucifer. "Something subtle, to see you squirm with anticipation for the meeting to end... or we could attend that Goetia event, where I can lay on your lap and whisper in your ear. Who could possibly tell you no?"
There, he's been patient enough - Alastor rewards patience with a kiss, paying close mind to every twitch and exhale to study the king's reaction, to store it away as a trophy.
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These were things he also hadn't had in far, far too long. To feel anticipation again, to feel so bunched up and wanting to explode...
"You torment me..." Was the King of Hell... short of breath?
But who knew torture better than the Overlords, eh? He moaned into the kiss, body just short of catching fire, as he felt wound around a finger.
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"All the myriad ways to experiment... like dancing one's fingers over the keys of the piano, tickling them to create a new tune..."
There's a little pause - Alastor had been reflecting on their moments together. There were the obvious ones, like Lucifer getting flustered about Alastor talking about eating him, or licking his cut finger, or even being given a squeaky duck after a nightmare.
But that cheshire grin grew a little as a memory connected to his understanding.
"Why... now that I think about it, you made quite the expression when I detangled you using the tendrils."
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"Can't blame me~ It's not every day that you get... 'tendril'd'. But I didn't expect them to be so warm, so... soft. So precise."
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He'd started the day out quite roughly, buuuut... right now, the man looked quite happy. Relaxed.
"We can always play with them, hmm?"
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Ahem.
"Yes, yes, I'd like that."
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Without much warning, tendrils are summoned silently, slipping up the back of Lucifer's shirt and writhing underneath the fabric as they coiled around him like snakes. Alastor's hands idly pulled back and he leaned his chin on his palm, like a man kicking back to enjoy a show.
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Once the initial shock faded and he looked down, the spell momentarily snapped from his eyes, he recognized... oh... the, uh...
The, uh. Tendrils. Yep. Those su-hu-huuuuuure-
The color sharply rose in his face. It wasn't just a touch over his outfit, but they'd just slipped right in completely, touched bare skin.
Alastor was rewarded with a shiver, a stumbling breath.
"Y-you maybe wanna warn a guy next time...!?"
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He couldn't feel much through them, but he didn't need to. He was fascinated, having them clumsily feel at every inch of skin. Lucifer was warm in his lap, and those faces and shivers are SO good.
"Charming~"
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But even the clumsiest of movement was enough to get him squirming a bit, eyes closed as he tried to articulate something, anything at all. Curse at him? No... no it was beyond the time for that.
"L-little harder... little slower..." He managed to get that out between breaths. Definitely not what he had in mind! But... but it was fine.
These were some good shadowy, creepy tendrils...
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"Such a sight, indeed... don't forget our safe word~" Alastor said cheerfully, staring with no awareness of just how soft his gaze was getting. All he was thinking was how cute Lucifer was, flustered and marigold like this, embarrassed but eager.
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His tail snaked its way around the other man's waist, an anchor as the touch firmed and slowed. But there was a touch at his belt and it had him squirming again, give a short huff under his breath.
"Y-y'know, a king... should be casting down a punishment for... for torture..." He just opened an eye, only a peek, to look at him.
"But I pride myself... on my resilience..."
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"Oh, you ought to be proud. If you could see yourself right now, you would be," Alastor purred, enjoying the grip of the tail around his own waist. Alastor was feeling a little bit of heat, himself, but he was far too fixated on Lucifer himself.
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Would he be proud...? He wasn't sure. But he sure was a sight, sweating a little and fighting to keep himself still. He was failing. These touches were foreign, strangely soft and somehow slick without being slimy, and seemed to be touching everywhere all at once. They were better than hands...
His stomach knotted, jumped under the touch. His legs were trembling in their attempt to maintain their composure. But his hands blindly moved for the hem of Alastor's shirt, felt around.
No, he had to... he had to return the favor... surely it can't all just be him...!
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"Ah ah ah," he chided gently, a third tendril manifesting from behind Alastor to gently but firmly wrapping around Lucifer's wrists. Could the king tear the offending shadow apart with ease? Of course. But Lucifer always plays along, doesn't he?
"I'm paying attention to you. This is all about you, sha," Alastor purred in a teasing but low tone. He wasn't ready to get touched. And he had a sneaking suspicion Lucifer was rarely made the sole focus of attention like this... funny in its own right. "You're glowing, a charming shade of goldenrod... like a little sunflower," Alastor drawled, pinching Lucifer's cheek playfully even as the tendrils moved so luridly, gently squeezing and pulsing and roaming around under Lucifer's clothes with supernatural ease.
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Oh, he missed this.
But he puffed his cheeks at him for being chided, despite his eyes fogging over with an unambiguous need. His hands withdrew from where they'd touched him, instead bunched into calm fists and tucked against his chest.
The Council up above, and so much of Hell hardly focused on him, or even paid him heed at all. Most of it was his own fault. But to be like this had changed him entirely; his horns had budded in contrast to his position.
Who's the sunflower? He was the Most Hated Being-
Lucifer's body jumped, a brief and hardly-stifled moan leaving him. Was Alastor sure he was still figuring things out? ...Or was he just a fast learner...?
"I-I bet you say that to everybody," he managed, though his legs eased further apart, his arms lifted a little help make himself comfortable but give so much more room and opportunity to the tendrils.
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"Many people have wanted or even demanded this of me, but only you are seeing it," he added. Vox had wanted it so badly, had professed affections, had been obsessive, pleaded with him - but it just wasn't meant to be. There was a vindictive little satisfaction that he was giving this sort of treatment to someone on his own initiative, and that they were playing along and obeying him.
What a good little king. It made him cuter.
"Do tell if I'm going too hard or too gently," Alastor reminded. He could sense the heat building, the subtle start of sweating on Lucifer's skin, but he still had no idea how he was doing in the grand scheme of this act.
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