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whiskey4seance · 20 days ago

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kinktober — day XXVII

prompt: sex pollen

the pollination of angel dust

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Alastor x Angel Dust ; RadioDust ; MDNI 18+

tags/warnings: top!alastor x bottom!angel, handjob, blowjob, overstimulation, masturbation, anal fingering, mentions of pain/raw skin, minor blood warning, mentions of dry orgasms 🥀✨

word count: 6.1k

summary: valentino sent a bouquet of flowers imported from the lust ring and angel has been doing his best to manage on his own, but can’t seem to break the fever when alastor shows up and proposes the offer of an afterlife.

author’s note: sunday, sunday, sunday! this wasn’t supposed to be as long as it ended up being, but here we are lol this prompt was quite the challenge for me, but i hope you enjoy it, and i’ll see y’all on thursday for the kinktober finale ♥️

coven: @fraugwinska @hazelfoureyes @macabr3-barbi3 @sugoi-writes @synamartia 🕯️♥️

the coven's kinktober masterlist

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Angel being absent in the evenings wasn’t unusual, as Valentino typically enjoyed having him work through all hours of the night. What made his empty chair ominously noticeable today was that everyone knew he was home. But they all had their right to choose — free will was Hell’s burden to bear, wasn’t it? — and Angel had missed meals before. Usually catching up on some much-needed sleep or just decompressing after days of grueling shifts. So his absence was noted, briefly discussed, and moved on from.

Or it would have been, had Alastor not been the one in charge of making dinner.

While everyone else began to work on cleaning up, Alastor took it upon himself to go see what kept their coquettish spider so preoccupied that he couldn’t deign to join them downstairs. Had Little Miss Muffet come to exact her revenge? The Radio Demon’s cackle was the only thing that lingered in the dining room as he dissolved into shadow.

When he manifested in front of Angel’s room, cloche in hand and ready to disturb the peace, Alastor’s eminent knock was interrupted by a wanton mewl on the other side of the door.

Ah. Not a good time… Perfect!

The smile on Alastor’s face grew as he poised his fist again and waited for another loud moan before rapping it on the door, effectively sending Angel into a scramble. Alastor’s keen ears picked up on all of it: the cursing, the ruffle of bedsheets, the groans of anguish from being forced to stop what was no doubt an enthralling pursuit of self-pleasure.

“Whoever the fuck is out there, you know I’m busy — so scram!”

He didn’t even have the decency to open the door and dismiss Alastor to his face! It was an insult to injury that could have gone unchecked, but where was the fun in that? So Alastor knocked again, purposefully silent. Let their little celebrity find out who he was talking to like that the hard way.

There was more cursing and grumbles. Alastor refreshed his posture and smile with a shimmy as he heard the star in question stomping towards the door. He had expected Angel to throw it open and give him hell but he merely cracked it. The golden chain of the door lock still dangling loosely in the meager amount of space.

“What?”

The insolent tone of voice was the most egregious slight thus far. Not many sinners in this roiling pit had the courage to give Alastor real cheek. Yet here he was, on the receiving end of a five-star glare that he had to tilt his head upward to meet. Not a pleasant experience, but Angel’s upset was intriguing — and impressive — enough that it kept his own irritation at bay.

From what Alastor could make out, the poor fellow did seem to be in dire straits. It was clear that his robe had been donned and tied in haste. The pink silk haphazardly wrapped around most of the tall, lithe body underneath it. Hair fussed and sweaty, pieces of it clung to his flushed face in a way that gave Alastor a sudden urge to swipe it back. Though he quickly dismissed the lingering trait from his childhood, recalling how put upon he felt when Mother would do exactly that — grooming him when he hadn’t done a good enough job himself. She simply couldn’t abide by unkempt hair, and in turn, neither could he.

It wasn’t just his hair that was off — though Alastor now noticed the matted tufts on the demon’s usually coiffed chest. Angel’s eyes were glossy and blown, his flared temper only adding to the lust that radiated from them. A telltale emulsification of sweat and arousal wafted through the crack of the door, underlaid with something Alastor couldn’t pinpoint, just short of floral.

Perhaps a candle to set the mood?

Alastor fought to keep his hackles down. Whatever it was, it burned in his nose and sent a rippling tingle through his body; every strand of hair on edge with a lovely sting.

“You weren’t at dinner, so I’ve brought it to you,” Alastor said amiably, but his smile hid venom as he brought the cloche into view from his left. “I hope you didn’t skip out because I was in the kitchen today. I put a lot of care into it, you know.”

“Look, Alastor. I’m not in the mood to play along with one-a-ya shitty games right now, capisce?” Angel’s voice was stern but short of breath, and Alastor had a fleeting thought that he might be suffering from some illness until the echo of a moan resounded in his ears. No. It was too frivolous a remedy, even for the adult film star. “Just… leave it on the floor and I’ll grab it later.”

The door was resolutely shut in Alastor’s face, dissolving the remnants of his patience.

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Angel let out a sigh of relief after closing the door. Of all the motherfuckers in this hotel to come a-knocking, it just had to be Alastor…

The Radio Demon had easily captured his attention when he showed up here all those months ago. Since then, he had managed to smother most of the embers of his attraction toward the notorious Overlord, but in his current state those feelings had gone molten; pooling heavy in his lower belly with an agonizing ache.

Even now, Angel Dust could smell him. That spicy, earthy signature cut through with something unknown — dangerous, even — still lingered in his nostrils, despite the barrier of the door. He groaned in frustration, letting his forehead fall gracelessly against the door as one of his hands hastily brushed away the silk of his robe to tend to his incessant erection.

Angel hissed in pain as his palm made contact, his dribbling cock raw and inflamed. How many times would this be now? It felt like hours since the first wave of arousal had woken him from sleep. When jerking off a few times hadn’t done the trick he changed tactics, and was fucking himself through round two on his favorite dildo when Alastor interrupted him. But if he was being honest, he had completely lost count of his orgasms. A fact made worse as the last couple had been dry.

Something was wrong… he just didn’t know what. Maybe Val had slipped him something this afternoon before he left the studio? He knew it wasn’t Valentino’s pheromones, being very familiar with the effects, and this was unlike anything he had experienced before. He’d do just about anything to be rid of this pain and fever, heating him from the inside out. Every beat of his heart was an uncomfortable throb in his pulse, reminding him of his predicament like the sinister ticking of the extermination clock. Angel choked out a sob, grip loosening until his hand fell away from himself as his top right fist came down harshly on the door.

“I seem to be interrupting all sorts of private moments this evening,” Alastor said sardonically, drawing a yelp of shock from Angel before he recollected himself.

“What the fuck are you doing in here? I told you to leave.” Angel’s anger tapered off, dulled by the quiver in his voice from tears he was trying desperately to hold back. Whether they were from the pain or shame, he couldn’t know, though it was likely both.

Alastor didn’t answer. He had his nose in the air, sniffing the room before his face pinched with displeasure as he zeroed in on the bouquet of flowers from Valentino. They had been delivered just as he had gotten back to the hotel earlier, and in his desire to keep their existence to himself Angel had brought them up. He had plans to toss them into his fireplace but decided against it once he made it upstairs. They looked pretty in his room, and why take his frustrations out on harmless flowers? Though the letter peeking through the blooms remained unread.

Angel watched as Alastor approached them, almost vindictively, hovering over them with his arms crossed behind his back as he inspected. He took another sniff and recoiled, the ever-present hum of his static shrieking like feedback on a bad mic as he brought a hand up to cover his nose. Even his ears had gone stiff, as if petrified by danger.

“What, ya got allergies or somethin’?” Angel joked, unable to fight the small laugh that escaped him.

The pain wracking his body was momentarily forgotten as he observed the Overlord. He didn’t notice that it was beginning to shift from agony to desire now that Alastor was in his room.

“Allergies,” Alastor scoffed under his breath, putting himself to rights with a tug at his lapels. “No, dear, I’m afraid these flowers must be the cause of your,” he gave a pointed look to Angel’s flagrant problem as he searched for his next word, “…affliction. I don’t recognize them as any breed that’s grown here. They’re twisted.”

Angel cursed. Of course Valentino would skew a romantic gesture into something obscene.

Alastor merely hummed, then proceeded to summon an opening to a pocket dimension in which he quickly disposed of the devious flowers. When the portal shut the air in the room was immediately lighter, and Alastor breathed a sigh of content. His face plastered with the saintly look of a job well done.

“Where’d ya send ’em?”

Angel couldn’t help but ask. If they really were the reason why he’d been suffering, he hated the thought of them causing harm to someone else. Well… no one in the hotel, at least.

Alastor leveled his eyes on him from across the room, his grin wide and superior in the way someone with a secret always was. “A dump, where they belong. But I fear the damage is already done. Tell me, what was the first symptom so I know what to expect?”

Angel Dust wrung his hands, a fresh onset of arousal spreading through him as Alastor’s scent replaced the aroma of the flowers. The cadence of that transatlantic voice making his cock twitch with interest, erection briefly forgotten but not gone. Why was it suddenly so hard to think? He was trying so hard to answer Alastor’s question, but words evaded him. Disappearing from his mouth like popped bubbles.

It didn’t help with the way Alastor was staring at him, a cat eyeing the canary. This is a look that normally would have given Angel a healthy dose of apprehension, maybe even fear, but at present it was smoldering. He was practically naked, something that didn’t typically bother him, but under the scrutiny of Alastor’s gaze he felt as if he was being examined under a magnifying glass. Leaving him bare and tinkered with like…

Like a plaything.

There was a sourness in his mouth at the all-too-familiar dynamic, and he found himself panting, stomach tight as Alastor sauntered over. Casually removing his coat and draping it over one of the armchairs as if Angel was the guest in this room and not the other way around. Alastor crooked a finger under Angel’s chin once he was close enough, and Angel properly whimpered. Helpless as another dribble of precum soaked into the silk of his robe.

“Cat got your tongue? Or is that too on the nose?” Alastor teased, smile goading and voice sultry; crimson eyes piercing him like needles.

“Fuck you,” Angel managed to retort, but the heat he needed to land the barb escaped him in steamy puffs of breath.

“I’d like to extend an offer,” Alastor said guilelessly, ignoring the insult, “since we find ourselves in need of each other’s help.”

“Help with what?”

He sounded far away from himself, as if speaking from another room. Having Alastor this close was fucking with him; endocrine system not knowing whether to ramp up his testosterone or cortisol levels. With the way his heart and loins were hammering, it most likely doing both.

“Poor fellow, you’re in quite a stupor, aren’t you?” Alastor chuckled. He took one of Angel’s hands and brought it to his lap to cup his forming erection, drawing a gasp from the younger man. “As you can see, I’m already suffering the side effects from those damned flowers.”

The words had barely registered before Alastor returned the gesture in kind, the soft leather of his glove a surprising balm to the irritated skin of his cock. Angel crooned and let his head fall back with a thump against the door as Alastor gave him a few exploratory strokes, and all but cried when his thumb pressed into the slit.

Alastor clicked his tongue in mock admonishment. “I expected a professional would know how to better care for themselves. Look how red you are, poor thing...”

Angel squirmed, gasping, unable to hold back the fresh tears that stung his eyes from the bliss of Alastor’s hand pumping him. “I do,” he protested, “but if what you said is true — mmm — then those f-flowers did somethin’ to me. And nothin’s worked all — fuck!”

He groaned as his cock kicked, a small rope of ejaculate painting the top of Alastor’s gloved hand. Angel hadn’t even felt the onset of this orgasm, but did feel the relief of it for the first time all evening. His body shook as another little spurt spilled out. Meager proof for what had been his best climax so far.

Alastor hummed pensively and brought his hand up to his mouth, licking the glove clean with two wide swipes of his tongue. He seemed to ponder over the taste of it for a moment, then shrugged it off. Some internal debate settled as that same hand gave a tug to the handsome bow at his neck. His eyebrows perked up as he began to roll up his shirtsleeves, as if forgetting that Angel was fighting for his sanity in front of him.

“Shall we take this to the bed?”

Angel was still trying to process what had just happened, but couldn’t deny that he was already feeling a bit better after the handjob, rudimentary as it was. Still, something about this just didn’t seem real. Alastor offering to go to bed with him? He had to be sure, lest he embarrass himself further.

“If you’re serious about this you actually have to fuck me. Ya know that, right? No cuttin’ corners just usin’ those tentacles ’a yours,” he said warily, searching the Overlord for any signs of a gag.

“Clever boy,” Alastor purred, smile wide as he extended his hand. The sight was about as comforting as a loaded gun, and Alastor hummed when Angel stared down at his open hand for a moment too long. Adding a singsong, “No strings.”

“No strings, huh?” Angel couldn’t help but be a little skeptical, being very familiar with the demon’s reputation. “You ain’t gonna make me sign for it?”

Alastor chortled. “Of course not! This is between gentlemen. What do you say?”

How the fuck did he end up in this situation? To think that if he had just tossed the flowers like he wanted, he would have had another mundane evening under his belt. Instead, Valentino just proved that he would never change, and left Angel holding the bag as usual. What was he even trying to achieve by sending those fucking things here, anyway? If Valentino knew what the flowers would do to him (and Angel had a really hard time believing he didn’t), it’s not like he was here to take care of the result. The thought alone made Angel nauseous, a shudder wracking his body that left him feeling dirty.

But it was Alastor standing before him now. Alastor, the enigmatic Radio Demon, whom Vox both adored and detested. While Vox certainly wasn’t the only one who felt that way towards the guy, knowing this was all somehow tied to Valentino helped. He’d be lying if he said he never thought about what fucking Alastor would be like. After all, that blowjob he offered when they first met wasn’t completely for shock.

Let’s see just how serious he is…

“Can I suck your dick?”

In a flash so quick Angel thought he had almost imagined it, Alastor’s face lit up in surprise before settling back to his usual facade, his open hand curling into a fist. But he didn’t answer, instead pooling into shadow to re-form on the edge of Angel’s bed; fingers dancing on his thighs while he spread his legs just enough to show off the growing bulge in his trousers.

“I suppose you’ve waited long enough for your chance.”

It shouldn’t have had the affect on him that it did. Angel had seen more than his fair share of men in the exact same position after making such an offer. While his erection had yet to weaken, he was surprised at his capacity for lubrication, embers of lust burning just under his skin as he knelt before Alastor with as much dignity as he could muster. God forbid he appeared over-eager, even if he was.

There was just so much mystery surrounding the man before him, it was hard not to let his imagination get away. Angel was already impressed by his size, swallowing the saliva that had began collecting in his mouth as he tentatively palmed Alastor through his pants. The jerk of his hips caught Angel off-guard, but only made his own arousal worse.

Sensitive, huh?

Under normal circumstances Angel would have teased him, draw it out with strokes and licks over his pants until Alastor was begging for his mouth. But he had the distinct feeling Alastor wasn’t the type to to beg, and he didn’t really feel like testing his patience to the point of being thrown around like he was at the studio. Since, under normal circumstances, Angel wouldn’t even be here in the first place — removing Alastor’s belt and unfastening the button, his own groin tingling with anticipation as Alastor sighed with relief through his nose. A small, shaky sound with momentous impact.

It was enough to make Angel give in to his impatience, his need to really see what he was working with too great to delay any further. Alastor was right.

He’d waited long enough.

Angel sighed when he pulled down Alastor’s pants and boxers, moaning a little despite himself as he watched Alastor’s cock trying to win its battle against gravity, straining under its own weight. He was thick and uncircumcised, causing Angel’s mouth to water again with the desire to see more. If he was already enjoying the dark tan color before him, he couldn’t imagine what else lied in store when he eventually got around to revealing the head.

“This has gotta be Hell’s best-kept secret,” Angel said, grinning as he looked up to Alastor’s face, which had grown rather red. “I shoulda known you’d be packin’. The quiet ones always got somethin’ up their sleeve.”

Alastor shifted self-consciously, smile strained as the flush of his face crept down under the collar of his shirt. “I’ll take it as a compliment, but I suggest you put that mouth to better use before I change my mind.”

Angel thought about responding. He had several sarcastic quips in his back pocket for instances such as this. Work would do that to you after a while — quite literally suck the joy out of things — so you had to find the fun where you could. And his idea of fun right now was to make Alastor eat his words. He wanted to see what this mouth could do?

So be it, then.

Without further delay to his own gratification, Angel Dust took him in hand, soaking in the gasp Alastor tried to swallow as he pulled back the skin; greeted by the flushed tip, a deep rosy hue that complimented his tan so nicely. Big and beautiful? Some assholes were just born lucky, Angel supposed. He was, of course, included in this exclusive group, but it was a rare treat to be able to indulge in a gorgeous cock that wasn’t his own.

Angel started slow, circling his tongue around the glans and relishing the salt of Alastor’s skin, heightened by his musky scent. Not unaware of the little sounds Alastor was still biting back; something that Angel was more than willing to rectify, when the time came. For now, he was happy to ease into it. Planting a small kiss right over the slit before treating the rest of him, Angel’s hand gently working the head as his trail of kisses traveled down.

He could have cried for joy as Alastor adjusted himself, legs spreading further to give Angel more access. Even daring to take a testicle into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the bulb and sucking while his hand continued its massage. Alastor was breathing heavily through his nose, losing the battle to keep his breath even as Angel switched testes. If he wasn’t so dedicated to giving Alastor’s balls the attention they deserved, he would have smiled as he felt the first wave of precum sink under his fingers. Already feeling so satisfied and he’d barely gotten started.

Angel pulled off with a purposefully salacious pop, working his hand further down Alastor’s shaft now that he had some lubricant to work with. He could have easily grabbed some — Lord knows he wasn’t lacking in supply — but earning it was always nice. Jumping in with both feet was something he related more with being at the studio, and he was off the clock at the moment. No lights, no cameras, no shitty actors with even shittier hygiene.

He was in the comfort of his suite, with Alastor on the bed willingly letting him have his fun. Was the circumstance anything like he thought it’d be? No. Angel fought back the anger he felt simmer in his gut at the reminder of Valentino’s gift. The silver lining being that Alastor, for whatever reason, decided that the only way to get through this fever was together. It would be a secret they’d take to their figurative graves, and if Angel was being honest with himself, it was more than he could have asked for. A memory just for him.

The moan that left Alastor as Angel’s mouth finally surrounded him was sublime, his own dick weeping steadily as he sunk down to the base. Practically smothering himself in the wild scent of Alastor’s manhood, relishing the soft hair that tickled his nose. Even better was how quickly Alastor’s hand found itself grabbing at Angel’s hair while his body jerked from pleasure and shock as Angel slowly bobbed his head; refusing to let this be just another sloppy blowjob. Not that he had anything against them (Angel enjoyed them quite a bit) but having someone gag and choke and gasp and drool all over his dick just didn’t seem to be Alastor’s style.

Angel whined as he felt Alastor twitch and grow in his mouth, swallowing down his saliva now delightfully flavored with the salty-sweet of Alastor’s arousal. It reminded him of the kettle corn he would get on Coney Island. A treat he was only allowed when he had been on best behavior running errands with his Ma, and he found sucking Alastor off to be just as gratifying.

He didn’t even notice how his hands were gripping Alastor’s hips until he felt the Overlord begin to rock into his throat. The hand in his hair still held firm, the slight sting of the pull against his scalp only spurring the star on, widening his tongue to press it up against the pulsing vein as a reward for Alastor’s growing enthusiasm. Made evident by the static-laden gasps and groans he was freely making, complimented by the wet sounds of Angel’s mouth as his throat relaxed to let Alastor chase his fun.

Not afraid of a little mess, after all…

His lower set of hands busied themselves cupping and massaging Alastor’s testicles, the wanton sound that he earned from it one he vowed to sear into his memory for safekeeping. He could tell that Alastor was getting close, pace stuttered but flirting with brutal as Angel focused on making sure to keep enough air in his lungs. Not that he doubted his capacity, but he hadn’t exactly planned for the sudden face-fucking, either.

He risked a glance up, and what he saw almost didn’t seem real. Alastor’s head was tilted down towards him, but his crimson eyes were shut tight, framed by his sweat-damp hair. The blush from earlier had truly bloomed from the fever, the glow contrasting handsomely against his complexion in a way that was almost irritating. Sure, red was his color, but did every part of him have to rub it in?

But the real showstopper was his fumbling smile. Alastor’s patented grin gone soft and trembling; gossamer strings of saliva connecting the lips of his open mouth, looking like dew drops on a spider web.

“Fu — haahh, Anthony, I —”

Angel moaned at the sound of his name on Alastor’s tongue. Nearly sobbing as he felt and tasted the first shot of cum, fastening his grip on Alastor’s hips to keep him in place as he swallowed every bit that he received. It tasted different than his pre, more on the bitter side, but not unpleasant. Angel was finding less and less things to associate with that word when it came to Alastor, a worry blossoming in the back of his mind that he’d have to think on more later.

For now, he focused on savoring the moment. The taste, smell, and feel of the Overlord before him. The little jerks and shudders of aftershock slowly beginning to subside as Alastor’s breathing evened out, loosening the grip he had on Angel’s hair before falling on his back; a static hum vibrating in the air, sounding the way he always imagined a sleeping beast from a fairytale would.

Alastor was far from asleep though, grumbling over the persistence of his erection as he hastily tugged at the buttons on his sweat-dampened shirt. The effects of the fever digging in despite their efforts. Angel could understand the frustration, his own member practically screaming for relief. He knew his own touch would only bring pain and irritation, resolving to do his best to ignore it, but found himself growing eager. The lingering taste of Alastor’s skin and semen in his mouth warming him from the inside out.

“How many times do ya think we need to try before it goes away?”

“I think there’s only one way to find out, darling,” Alastor replied, sounding a bit out of breath. “Why don’t you come up here and join me?”

To his surprise, Alastor didn’t pat the bed, but the top of his thighs. His knees still bent over the side of the bed while the rest of him laid flat. Angel crawled up, fighting through the stiffness that had begun to settle into his bones, and settled himself over Alastor. Sighing as strong, large hands held his hips and red eyes roamed his face.

Without thinking, Angel reached up to remove Alastor’s monocle. For such a small thing, its absence made quite the impact. Alastor’s face, much like the rest of him now, laid bare for no one else’s eyes but his own. Angel took in the sight, crimson splayed over the pink cotton of his duvet. With Alastor laying in the center of it, his hair and open shirt was reminiscent of a pool of blood. Angel found it fitting — gruesome and glamorous all at once. He was struck by the urge to kiss him, and drew his bottom lip between his teeth to keep it at bay. Alastor only smiled, one of his fangs poking out from his closed lips while his hands massaged the star’s narrow hips.

Angel cleared his throat and looked up and off to the side where his discarded toy and bottle of lube laid haphazardly on the sheets. He was just able to reach the bottle, and proceed to rub a generous amount over his hole; feeling the blush warm his face from being watched. It was a little funny… Angel Dust was used to this, enjoyed it, for the most part. But something about having Alastor’s eyes on him while he prepped himself made him feel shy, as if he were seeking some kind of approval despite being the professional.

The slick sound of his fingers filled the gap of their silence, punctured by little whines and heavy breaths. And still, they maintained eye contact. The intensity of Alastor’s red eyes was smothering, and it felt nice to know that Angel wasn’t alone in his need for more.

“Okay, that should do it,” Angel said, and shivered at the sound of Alastor’s eager inhale of breath. “Ya want me on top, or should we switch? I don’t care either way, just make it quick cuz I can’t wait anymore.”

Alastor laughed and gave him a playful slap on the ass, the unexpected gesture heightened by the words he spoke next.

“Get on your back.”

Angel complied with an embarrassing speed, dismounting from Alastor’s lap to scramble up the bed. Hastily removing his robe to gather his discarded dildo in before placing them on the floor to give them a cleaner space to work with. His chest was heaving as he watched Alastor shed his shirt and slacks, and couldn’t help but to finally touch himself; moaning loud as Alastor crawled up the bed while running his tongue over his teeth.

He sighed as Alastor grabbed his legs and hitched them over his shoulders, pulling him close as he lined himself up with Angel’s entrance. Alastor sunk into him with one swift thrust, their groans of relief harmonizing as they both paused to adjust. He didn’t give Angel too long of a wait, slowly receding before slamming back in. Alastor’s thick length forcing him open with a delicious stretch as he steadily pounded Angel’s ass. His hand remained busy on his own cock, doing his best to stroke in tandem but failing from the force of Alastor’s body rocking into him.

Maybe it was from the wait, but Angel was shocked to feel that prominent tightening in his belly so soon. The promise of another orgasm adding to the haste of his hand as he keened. A high, wanton sound ringing out over mounting static and bit-back groans, elevating the crude noise of wet skin-on-skin. They were already so drenched in sweat, the fever in full force as the men desperately sought to break it.

Angel didn’t even notice that Alastor’s nails had dug into the skin of his thighs until he saw the blood trickling down, and found himself clenching around that delicious cock in response. Alastor’s head fell back with a moan, his hips stuttering from the sudden tightness before resuming his pace.

“Oh fuck, Alastor, please don’t stop. Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” Angel begged, breathless. Tears beading at the corners of his eyes as the molten heat in his abdomen boiled over, his climax hitting him with a force he hadn’t felt since his first time.

Somewhere under his cries of rapture he heard Alastor curse with a gasp, the feeling of the Overlord’s release sending him over the edge as his orgasm renewed; his dick twitching against his stomach, shamelessly painting himself with a fresh wave of his own seed. The relief was exquisite, the heat in Angel’s body noticeably dropping as Alastor gave him a testing thrust before resuming a slow, deep pace. Seemingly unfazed by fucking his spend into Angel’s ass, for which the star was grateful. It felt too good, and he’d hate to point it out and make Alastor squeamish.

“What an improvement,” Alastor observed, his voice thick and low, eyes glowing with a hunger that made Angel whine. “Feeling better now, my dear?”

Though his mouth was open, Angel could only nod his head in answer. Rolling his hips to meet Alastor’s thrusts as they chased another high. His head was clearing up, and he was determined to get Alastor to finish first this time. There was no way of knowing just how many rounds they’d need to go to get through this, but Angel was feeling hopeful that it wouldn’t be too much longer, at least for himself.

He watched, mesmerized as the antlers on Alastor’s head began to grow. Spreading out like roots until they had tripled in size, handsome and stately and entirely befitting the head they adorned. Angel couldn’t help but reach out, his desire and curiosity to touch them overriding his sense of propriety. To his delight, Alastor noticed his unspoken question, folding Angel’s body beneath him as he lowered himself enough for the star to reach out and grab his brow tines. Earning a delicious moan from Alastor from the touch.

Their faces were so close now that they were breathing the same air, a dizzy feeling building in Angel’s head as he lost himself in Alastor’s unrelenting eye contact.

“You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous, ya know that?” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, moaning as he felt Alastor twitch inside him. He let his other hands roam the expanse of Alastor’s furry chest, relishing the groan it drew from him as his brow furrowed. “Can’t wait to see you cum again… got a front row seat this time.”

He felt another throb as Alastor gasped, grinding his hips in tight circles, his steady pace unravelling as buried himself in Angel’s heat.

“That’s it, baby, I can take it,” Angel encouraged between breaths, seeing stars with every pass of Alastor’s cock over his prostate. Doing his best not to blink lest he miss the face he was so eager to see.

“Anthony…”

There it was again. He didn’t even know how Alastor knew it, but the sound of his name in that filtered voice was a weakness he could have lived without. Knowing that it would haunt him as he tried to sleep for nights to come. That he would recoil the next time he heard it from someone else’s mouth instead…

With another cry of his name Alastor shuddered, his face scrunched in pleasure as his orgasm wracked his body. Angel took it all in, his body squeezing out every bit of Alastor’s essence while his eyes memorized the flushed, handsome face. Every bead of sweat, every misplaced strand of hair. The heat of Alastor’s breath on his face, huffed in invisible clouds of steam. His upper hands were still latched to Alastor’s tines, the others gently caressing the man as he sloppily rode out his high.

It wasn’t until Alastor collapsed on top of him that he realized he didn’t experience his own orgasm, and found that the absence of it wasn’t painful. His body felt to be back to its usual temperature, his head light but clear as he waited for Alastor to pull out. Not that there was a rush. There was no way for him to know the time, but he wasn’t ready to turn back into a pumpkin.

“I think my fever’s gone,” he says anyway, his voice quiet as Alastor nestled his face in Angel’s chest. “Thanks for puttin’ up with this. I know…,” he sighed, searching for the words and settles on, “I know it’s not somethin’ we woulda done under normal circumstances.”

Alastor hummed, pensive. He still hadn’t removed himself, and Angel couldn’t help but find it oddly comforting. “I’m not so sure I’m out of the woods yet. I’m typically not so… voracious.”

Angel laughed a little, content to pet Alastor’s back while he figured it out. Seeing as this would most likely be a one-time thing, he figured he should get his money’s worth. So to speak.

“Hey, your secret’s safe with me. A gentleman never tells, ya know.”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

The even sound of heeled boots echoed in the empty hallway as Lucifer made his way to the doors of his penthouse. He was in a lovely mood, whistling a tune that hadn’t deigned the ears of mortals for centuries; his right hand flourishing his apple-adorned cane like a baton.

His mirth died with the song on his lips as he took in the vase of flowers on the floor, recognizing the breeds that made up the bouquet as genuses that only existed in the Lust Ring. Lucifer bent down to pluck the card out of the pink and maroon blooms and grimaced almost immediately.

Thinking of you, Angelito. Call me when you feel the burn. ~ Valentino

Lucifer shuddered and incinerated the card, furiously wiping his hand on his coat in disgust as he opened a portal to V Tower.

Seems like a certain Overlord needed to remember his place.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

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#ykw this is kinda cute :)#🐍#XXX text

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