Work Text:
my place, tomorrow at 2 pm. agatha will let you in.
Blitz isn’t sure what he expected when he got the cryptic text, from the big rooster himself no less, telling him to come to Fizz and Ozzie’s fuck palace. It’s become a semi-regular activity, going over there for dinner and movies and the occasional threesome. But the invitations always come directly from Fizz, never his royal husband.
He shows up at the entrance with trepidation, a small knot in his gut as he rings the bell. It only takes a moment for the door to open, and Agatha, one of Asmodeus’ succubus attendants, lets him through. The penthouse is eerily silent as he walks through the spacious hall, feeling like an intruder. He’s so used to Fizz greeting him at the door with a cheery grin, but the other imp is nowhere to be seen, and nor is his husband.
Blitz figures Fizz has got to be pranking him. He can just imagine him grinning wide, hiding behind a door waiting to ambush him with a cum confetti cannon or whatever. He steps cautiously, sticking his head suspiciously around every corner he passes.
Nothing. He passes through the living room, the quieves’ play room, the bathroom, several guest rooms and the kitchen – not that he expects to find Fizz in there – but they’re all empty, with no sign of the clown in any of the usual spots. Finally, he arrives at the innermost sanctuary of the penthouse: the opulent blue heart-shaped doors that lead to the bedroom. He sneaks up to the doors and slides them open a crack, peeking his head into the room.
He stares.
A very familiar imp hangs suspended from the ceiling, his feet tied to his hands and straight legs splayed wide open. He’s facing the other way, dangling daintily, patient like bait on a fish hook. If it were anyone else, Blitz would cringe at how uncomfortable the position looked, but he’s intimately familiar with how flexible his friend is and how much his body can tolerate.
At the sound of the door, Fizz jerks his head with a jingle. “Took you long enough, Big D-”
The jester lifts his head and locks eyes with Blitz.
“Flaming fistfuck!”
“Christ on a pogo stick!”
They both yell at the same time, Fizz jerking and struggling in his bonds.
Blitz steps further into the room, walking closer to the bed to get a frontal view. The other imp is barely clothed, a thin, almost see-through pink babydoll dress barely covering him up. His hat is equally dainty today, a lingerie-inspired baby pink satin covered with pink and white lace, and his wrists and ankles are adorned with fluffy pink pom poms. What’s more, there’s a hot pink chastity belt winding around his hips and between his legs, complete with a little heart-shaped padlock hanging on the front. Fat red pussy lips bulge around the thin strap of the belt sitting snugly between his legs, glistening with slick.
There’s a festive banner strung out behind him, spelling out Merry Sinsmas in looping letters, and then it clicks. He didn’t even consider the date before coming over, but of course it checks that the two of them would go nuts on a day like today. And of course it figures that lust is Fizz’s sin of choice today - why the hell wouldn’t it be when it’s the one he celebrates every day of his life?
“Wow, Fizz. Did Oz tie you up like this?” he asks, wonder lacing his tone. “Or did you get someone else to help?” The idea of the other imp wrapping himself up like a present to be opened up and enjoyed makes his mouth dry all of a sudden, throat working to swallow. “Is this…”
Is this for me?
He almost asks, has his mouth half open before he thinks better of it, curling his tongue back into his mouth and pursing his lips. Fizz was way too surprised to see him to be in on this. But suppose this is for him, somehow… just the idea of Asmodeus devising this plan, luring Blitz here only to discover his husband like this, essentially cucking himself… it makes his pants tight, his head light as blood rushes south.
He works his jaw. “You, uh… you need a hand, there?”
“Fuck off! I’m waiting for Ozzie, you prick!” Fizz huffs, turning his head to the side petulantly. There’s a light grey blush tinging his pale face, and Blitz notes the sheen of sweat on his skin, the slight shudder in his muscles from the strain of holding the position. He wonders how long the jester has been hanging there.
“Oh yeah? And you’re gonna hold out until he gets here? Do you even know when he’s coming back?”
Fizz hesitates, looking unsure. “I know he has some Sinsmas events he needs to attend as a guest of honour and shit… but he said he wouldn’t be too late…”
“Uh huh. Then why did I get a text from him telling me to be here?”
A lightbulb appears over Fizz’s head, before a swift scowl finds its way onto his face. “Oh, that asshole.”
“Looks like he doesn’t mind me giving you a hand.”
“And how are you gonna do that? Ozzie has the fucking key to this thing!”
Blitz leans in closer to look at the lock, hand to his chin in consideration. “I mean… I’ve picked my share of locks in my time… it can’t be that hard, right?”
Fizz’s eyes widen. “Oh, that fucking asshole.”
It finally dawns on the jester just how mean his daddy has decided to be to him today. As if being left tied up all day isn’t bad enough, his holes are locked away with no key in sight, and he’s at the mercy of a trigger-happy, butterclawed assassin. And to top it off, he’s desperately fucking horny. What could possibly go wrong?
“No, I got this! Just watch me, bitch.” Blitz whips out a bobby pin from his coat pocket and brings it up to the lock to start messing with it. His other hand brushes against the skin of Fizz’s pelvis to hold him steady, and the jester shudders beneath his touch. He shoves the pin in and starts twisting it around, and Fizz gasps.
“Hey, careful!”
Blitz is all too aware of what lies just underneath the padlock: Fizz’s neglected clit, surely beyond swollen and aching. He feigns ignorance and keeps working, pressing harder than strictly necessary. Fizz whines, hips trying to jump into the stimulation despite Blitz’s hand holding him back.
“Come on, I thought you were good at this!” Fizz wiggles impatiently, swinging slightly where he hangs.
“Keep your tits on, I’m working on it, okay?”
This close, face to face with the jester’s crotch, Blitz can see the slick practically oozing out around the belt strap. He must be getting desperate. Mesmerized, he strokes a finger up the puffy lips that are eating up the strap, making Fizz twitch hard.
“How is today any different, anyway?” Blitz asks as he gets back to work. “Don’t you indulge in your lust or whatever on every day that ends in Y?”
Being Greed imps, their Sinsmas celebration consisted of indulging in whatever material possessions they could scrounge up. Of course, his dad would use it as an excuse to put on an extra show, working them all to the bone. But they would celebrate into the night anyway, looting liquor stores and playing poker with their meager savings.
But that was a long time ago. Blitz has lived in Pride for years, and his preferred way of celebrating now is to reflect on how far he’s come and how proud he is of his daughter. Fizz, on the other hand… There’s something in his eyes, something almost feral, like he’s in heat. Living in Lust, shacking up with the Sin of Lust himself, has changed him, there’s no doubt about that. It’s brought every dormant, repressed part of him straight to the surface. The young imp who used to blush and go quiet at the very mention of sex is long gone, replaced by a shameless minx. Fizz doesn’t reply to his question, just twitches his hips greedily into Blitz’s careful, measured twisting. Seems there’s still some Greed left in him, after all.
Finally, the lock snaps open.
“There! Toldja I could do it.” Blitz lets out a bark of triumph as the belt loosens, and Fizz exhales shakily. Gingerly he helps the jester out of his confinement, but notices it catching when he tries to pull it off. He takes a closer look, and his eyes bug out of his head when he sees that the belt has a large dildo attached to it. He grabs hold of the belt strap and pulls it all the way out, and it slides out of Fizz with a wet pop. A mess of lube and slick drips onto the floor, and Fizz gives him a wobbly smile, breathing heavy. His little dick twitches as it’s exposed to the air and allowed to breathe again, flushed a rich, deep cherry. Blitz wants to devour it.
“What are you waiting for? Untie me already.”
He looks up to see that Fizz has been watching him stare, smug little smirk tinged with urgency.
Blitz gives him a smirk of his own, standing back up and grabbing hold of the jester’s chin. “What’s the big rush, sugar tits?”
He leans in and gives him a deep kiss, drawing his tongue out and sucking on it until his eyes go droopy and melty. He pulls back and notes with satisfaction how much of a mess he’s made of the clown already, half-lidded eyes zoning out and slack mouth drooling, hips twitching with helpless need.
“I don’t feel so bad for you anymore, knowing you’ve been stuffed full this whole time.”
Fizz’s eyes widen indignantly. “Hey, that’s not fair!” He starts struggling again, as if he can break the sturdy rope keeping him tied up just by snarling at it. “I could barely feel that!”
“Spare me, I bet you came on that thing at least once.” Blitz would be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying himself a little, getting to rile Fizz up, dangle what he wants in front of him and leave him wanting. Fizz is usually the one calling the shots, the spoiled princess who gets his way. Usually, Blitz is helpless to do anything but give him whatever he wants, the pathetic little teenage simp inside of him rearing its head whenever he’s around Fizz.
But he can play dirty too. He leans in again and mouths at the other’s neck, finds his jugular and gives it a nibble, holds it between his teeth in a gentle tug, just the way he knows makes Fizz shiver. Sure enough, he bites back a whimper and squeezes his eyes shut, turning his head despite himself to give more access. Blitz takes it gladly, kissing down to the crook of his shoulder and following the sharp line of his collarbone to the little divot in between, which he dips his tongue into and sucks up the bead of sweat gathered there.
He continues on his quest, sticking his beak into the patch of skin underneath Fizz’s arm port that doesn’t quite qualify as an armpit, nosing along until he finds a perfectly perky nipple poking through the sheer material of his lingerie. He sucks it into his mouth with an appreciative groan, letting the friction of the fabric and the wetness of his tongue tease the sensitive bud.
“Blitz! Fuck!” Fizz urges, bucking his hips. But he takes his sweet time, moving from one nipple to the other, sliding a hand underneath the dress to tweak and pinch. The red one is even more sensitive, and Fizz gasps and keens when he bites it and pulls. He doesn’t move on until both nipples are red and abused, dress messily shoved out of the way.
He lifts the edge of the dress and pops his head inside to continue his journey down the jester’s ribs and stomach, sucking dark love bites into scarred skin as he goes. Fizz is almost on the verge of tears by the time he reaches his pointy hipbones, so Blitz takes the opportunity to tease him even further by skipping straight down to his thighs.
“Hurry!” The shriek Fizz lets out is bossy, almost angry.
“Watch it, or I’ll gag you,” the assassin tuts, making sure to spend extra long mapping the scars running down his legs, biting long, slow marks into quivering inner thighs. At long last he draws his gaze up to the treasure, the main event, leaking a steady drip-drop of excitement onto the bedroom floor. Blitz avoids the puddle as he leans in for a closer look at the clown’s pussy, strikingly red against the white skin surrounding it. It twitches under his gaze, as if perking up at the promise of delayed gratification.
Fizz is practically fuming by now, breath coming out in short puffs. “I swear to fuck, if you don’t make me cum in five seconds flat…”
Finally, Blitz dips his head down for a taste, burrowing between plush lips and licking a long stripe up the soaking slit. Fizz keens, throwing his head back with a loud jingle of his hat bells as Blitz hunkers down and settles in for a meal. He closes his lips tight around the fat clit that’s been begging for attention and sucks it off, hands coming up to support the jester’s ass.
Fizz sags in his bonds, leaning into the assassin’s hold, a stupid grin coming onto his face as he gets what he’s been waiting for. “Hah, yeah… finally…”
The tiny dick in his mouth pulses as he massages both sides of it with his forked tongue, moaning at the taste of pure need. He swirls his tongue in circles and tickles the tip of the hood, presses his tongue flat and rubs it up and down the topside. Fizz sighs and moans, hips bucking encouragingly. He pulls off to give it a few sloppy kisses before moving down to dip inside of him with his tongue, rubbing his face all over fat, puffy lips. He slurps up a mouthful of slick and groans as he tastes it, tangy and sweet and irresistible.
“Fuck, Fizz… what do you eat for your puss to always taste so damn good?” He can’t help the appreciation leaving his simp mouth, feeling like he’s ingesting some sort of drug that keeps him wanting more, or maybe the pheromones coming from the clown are just that strong. He dives back in, reveling in the little moans and whines coming from the tied up imp above him.
He’s content to stay where he is for as long as it takes to get Fizz off, really. But after a while he pulls off, chin coated with slick. Fizz protests, jerking as Blitz burrows his head further south to deliver a dirty kiss to the cute pucker of his asshole. He tilts Fizz’s hips even more and goes straight for the base of his tail, located just above the crack of his ass. He presses open-mouthed kisses there, grinning as Fizz squeals and jerks, tail twitching and shuddering under his ministrations. He’s always had a more sensitive tail than most, always used to giggle and blush whenever someone had to get close to the base of it to show him a move.
“Ngh, fuck… come on already…”
Prosthetic legs droop as Fizz quickly loses his patience, the bend in his knees giving some relief to the strain of keeping his legs stretched out for so long. Blitz rolls his eyes at the dramatics, still concentrating on sending tingles up the jester’s spine with every nibble at the thick base of his tail. But he takes pity at last, looking up to see a big fat tear roll down a white cheek. He tilts the other’s hips and moves back up to where he needs him, then stuffs two large fingers in him and starts pumping them up into the spot he knows drives him crazy. His mouth finds Fizz’s aching clit again and focuses his attention on sucking hard right at the tip, concentrating pleasure there.
Fizz jerks and shouts like he’s just been jumpstarted. “Shit, yes! Keep going, don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop!”
He doesn’t stop. He keeps going as Fizz kicks his noodly legs, opening them impossibly wider trying to rut into Blitz’s face. The jester lets out a happy shriek when he finally comes, gushing a small fountain of slick into the space between them. Blitz groans along with him as he catches some of it on his tongue, soaking up more of his taste.
The clown sighs on his comedown, going all droopy and boneless where he still hangs. “Fuuuck, I needed that...”
Blitz can only gaze blearily up at him, drunk on secondhand pleasure. He zones out like that, captivated by the satisfaction on that cute clown face, only snapping out of it when a grating voice cuts through the fog.
“Can you let me down now? Please?”
Nodding dumbly, he hurries to untie him, struggling a little with the intricate knot whoever tied him up made. He ends up whipping his knife out and just cutting through it, and Fizz melts into his arms as he’s freed, looping arms around his neck and kissing his cheek. Blitz is reminded of his own neglected arousal, which he rubs unsubtly against a thin white thigh as he catches Fizz’s mouth with his own. The jester just sighs and opens his legs again, hooking one around Blitz’s hip. He leans in and murmurs into the assassin’s neck, “Fuck me on the bed.”
Blitz doesn’t need to be told twice. With a feral growl, he rips the babydoll dress off him, leaving him in just his hat and fluffy pink puff balls. He grabs the jester around his skinny hips and practically tosses him up onto the bed, climbing up after him to tower over him on the soft, silky sheets. Swearing, he fumbles his pants open and wrestles his dick out, messy with precum, and he sees Fizz light right up, stars in his insatiable eyes. Slut.
He bullies himself between slick-soaked legs and slides into him, gliding in smoothly. Fizz’s hole stretches easily around him, and he marvels at this damn clown car puss that can fit so much between narrow hips. Already plenty wound up, he wastes no time settling into a hard and steady fucking rhythm, one he knows Fizz loves. Fizz isn’t ashamed to let him know just how much, letting blissful moans escape his drooling mouth, fuck-drunk grin on his lips.
“Yes! Shit, yeah, just like tha- hah - that!”
Once he feels himself getting too close, Blitz grabs Fizz and flips him over to pound him from behind, one hand between his shoulder blades and one gripping the base of his tail. Fizz pitches his hips up like a cat, opening up for him greedily.
“Mmm yeah, fuck me fuck me fuck me!”
He has to slow down, grind lazily against the other’s ass for a minute so he doesn’t blow his load too early. Fizz wiggles back into him, rutting like he’s in heat. “Don’t stop! I’m so close!”
“Mammon’s saggy tits, you are such a needy brat.”
“Can you not – hah – mention his name when you’re – ngh – balls deep in me?”
Blitz rolls his eyes, but pulls out and flips the little brat over again and sticks his tongue in his mouth to shut him up. It doesn’t really work. Fizz just moans even louder, latching onto him like a koala that’s too horny to function properly.
“Ah… Blitz…” he says it so reverently, licks the name into his mouth as they make out. He pulls back and looks up at him with those deep pink eyes, a blissful smile stretching across that pretty red spit-smeared beak. All of a sudden, Blitz’s tummy feels weird and tingly, almost queasy. He hopes it isn’t something he ate.
His hips start moving again almost of their own accord, slick skin smacking wetly in the space between them. Fizz tips his head back, eyebrows knit together in pleasure, drooling tongue hanging out of his mouth. One silicone hand snakes down to touch himself, while his tail seeks out Blitz’s, tangling them together in a messy knot.
“Mmm fuck, you’re gonna make me come again…”
“Fuck, Fizz, you’re driving me insane,” the assassin grits out, squeezing his eyes shut and pistoning his hips even harder, determined to bring the other to the edge.
Fizz comes again just like that, touching himself and singing Blitz’s praises. As he sags contentedly into the sheets, Blitz keeps thrusting, seeking his own release. He’s almost there. Shit, just a little bit longer…
“Ah, fuck… I’m gonna pee!” Fizz squeaks, all of a sudden.
Blitz stops short, dick aching painfully. “What the fuck?! You can’t hold it until I’m done?”
“I was hanging there for a while, okay? And besides…” His expression turns sullen.
“What?”
“Ozzie doesn’t mind if I pee. He likes it.”
“Christ on a stick. Fucking freaks, the both of you…” Blitz exhales a long-suffering sigh. So he’s playing the ‘you’ll never be as good as my perfect husband’ card. But in the end, he considers, what’s one more bodily fluid to add to the ones he’s already soaked in? He’s so horny right now that being covered in Fizz’s pee actually sounds kind of hot.
“Okay, okay, just hold on a sec.” He lifts him up by the ass and moves them both to the edge of the bed, settling Fizz back onto his lap facing away from him. He angles his cock back in, rock hard and fit to burst, and plows up into him until he’s keening at the assault on his sensitive insides. Then, he feels a flood of something warm soaking into his lap, wetting his thighs. Fizz sighs with relief above him, wiggling his hips and moaning happily at finally getting his release.
It actually feels… nice. Kinky. It’s enough to push him over the edge at last, and Blitz adds to the mess with his own spend, pumping Fizz good and full. It takes a while for the flow to stop, and they both sink boneless back onto the sheets when they’re all spent.
“Fuck, you dirty bitch…” He likes it, though.
Fizz grins, a fucked-out expression on his face and a happy flush on his cheeks. “Fuck off, you like it.”
The assassin maneuvers them both onto their sides, shuffling away from the wet, soon to be cold sheets. He cuddles into the clown, spooning him and squeezing at his tiny tits.
“You didn’t answer my question earlier, by the way,” he says, still panting slightly as he comes down from his high. “What makes today any different than any other day you’re worshipping Ozzie’s dick and balls? Why even celebrate Sinsmas at all?”
Fizz goes quiet again for a while. Blitz can’t see his face, so he can only imagine what expression he’s making.
After a long moment, he hears that croaky voice again. “Today is different. It’s actually one of the busiest days of the whole year for Oz. He has all these fancy Sinsmas events to attend as ruler of the Lust ring. He’s expected to be there, to take part in the celebrations as the Sin of Lust.”
“What, and you can’t come with him? You’ve been official for ages now.”
“Eh, those kinds of parties get old real fast.” Fizz doesn’t elaborate any more than that.
He thinks he gets it a little more, why Fizz might not like Sinsmas as much, why he might try extra hard to keep his husband’s attention, to drag him away from those boring parties. And why he was invited here at this exact time. He thinks of the message he received from the Sin, and realizes it was more an act of kindness towards his partner rather than an attempt at cucking himself. Or maybe it was a mix of both.
“Right… bet you’re glad I turned up after all though, huh?”
Fizz turns around in his arms with a frown, staring him up and down as if considering him. Then he leans in and kisses him, hard.
They’re in the middle of round three, Fizz riding Blitz into oblivion, when they’re interrupted by a very sultry, very familiar voice.
“Having fun?”
They both whip their heads around to see Asmodeus standing in the doorway, arms crossed and cocked hip leaning against the frame. He’s evidently enjoying the show, if the massive boner tenting his shimmery dress is any indication.
Fizz stretches an arm all the way across the room to tangle in his husband’s chest fluff. “Oho, you’re in big trouble, mister.”
“I am?” Oz trills, full of faux innocence as Fizz starts pulling him towards them with a wicked grin. “Oh no, whatever shall I do?”