Chapter Text
From the moment it was drugged, Lucifer didn’t notice any difference in the drink’s taste.
Charlie didn’t mean for it to be so effective. When Angel gave it to her, he said, it’ll be relaxing. I use it all the time to sleep. Which was what she knew her dad needed. Some rest. Between rebuilding the hotel, moving into it, and Alastor’s constant bombardment since he returned, not to mention how starstruck everyone still was about him, she just wanted him to get some sleep. He was working so hard on everything and since he stepped in to help, he really hadn’t let himself rest. Even when she told him to.
Which was what led to this. Charlie carried her dad up from dinner, bringing him all the way to his new hotel bed, which was round like the room. The door shut behind them, a loopy Lucifer flopping around in her arms, and Charlie dropping him onto the bed.
“What? No, I can’t sleep yet, there’s still so much to dooo,” despite his words sounding coherent, he was definitely out of it. But he was still in his usual clothes, top hat and long boots and all.
“No, Dad, it’s time to rest,” she told him, starting to grab at his top hat and jacket. He brushed her hands off, but she was determined: she placed his hat and jacket on the chair nearest his bed, then went in for his boots. Hooves out for the world to see. Or the ducks in his room.
“Noooo, not yet,” he begged. But he had taken the hint, and before Charlie knew it or realized what was happening, he helped undress himself.
Gloves off to reveal black fingers, off to reveal a white torso, and when Charlie turned around after setting his boots aside, he was down to his underwear and his fingers digging into the waistband to pull—
“Wait, no, not that,” she rushed back over, her hands flying to his.
“Oh, your turn?” he asked, eyes half-lidded and suggestive, but oh so clearly drugged.
“No, Dad, that’s not—“
“Who’s Dad is here? It’s just me and you, baby,” with a snap of his fingers, Charlie’s clothes were sucked into the vacuuming sparkle of an instant magic portal. A blush spread across her cheeks. She was down to her underwear.
“Oh, no, no, no,” what was happening? Wasn’t this supposed to put him out, not… whatever this is?
Lucifer was up and off of the bed, making his way towards her. “Oh, fuck, no.” There was golden rope hanging off the banisters of this bed. Surely she could—Charlie shoved her dad’s head down onto the bed and used the rope she yanked to tie his hands together behind his back—no, she had a better idea.
“This is so gross,” she muttered to herself as his ass rode up against the front of her crotch. Why didn’t he recognize her? Just what had Angel given her?
When she let go of his hands, Lucifer used the opportunity to flip around and pulled her onto his lap, nothing but a couple thin pieces of fabric between them. He was surprisingly strong for his size, and while Charlie had the rope in her hand, his hands were on her hips, pressing her down onto his—
Oh, god, she felt it. Her dad’s hard—
“Tie me up or not, you can’t tame this beast,” he purred, lifting his hips up and rolling them up against her. With her hair-loops out, her blonde hair spilled over him, and he slid one of his hands up to unlatch her bra and pressed his lips against her breast, tossing the garment aside. His tongue was out, searching for her nipple, which he found without much looking. His lips around it, his tongue up against the tip, he sucked—
“No, no, stop!” Charlie’s hand snaked into his hair and yanked his mouth away. “You can’t do this.” Her face was red, whether with anger or embarrassment or what else, she didn’t know. She was almost entirely naked on top of her dad, of all people, and he really wanted to—she could not finish that thought, she felt the answer between her legs a little too well.
“Course I can,” came the singsong, drugged answer. “I know you well enough by now,” he smiled, “‘Sides, I can tell when you’re into it, remember?”
“What are you talking about—“ Before Charlie could finish asking, she was flipped over, face smacked against the mattress with an oomph. She felt his sharp fingers digging into her lower back, tugging down the last bit of protection her naked skin had down her legs and off of her hooves. “Dad, stop!”
“If you want to call me something, make it Daddy. The whole Dad thing isn’t really killing the vibe, but it’s not helping, either,” Charlie can’t exactly hear what he’s up to, but she’s already lifting herself back up with her hands to turn and see, to which she gets an eyeful of her father tossing both pairs of underwear aside, and for the first time, an image of what she’d felt up against her earlier.
His erection, heavy and thick. She’d never wanted to know what it looked like, never wanted to see her dad like this, and she kind of wanted to throw up, but before she could do much more of anything, his fingers dug into her hip bones and pulled her ass up, knocking her front back down, her forearms catching her.
“You want to look at me? You can ask nicely,” he said, and Charlie felt something she had never once in her life wanted to feel. The tip of her father’s cock pressed up between the lips of her pussy. “Oh, Lilith, it’s been so long. How I’ve wanted this.”
She wasn’t wet. No, she wasn’t. But there was something about all of this that got something moving down there, and she didn’t know how to feel about it. It churned her stomach, all of this. The idea that he thought she was her mother made all of this make so much more sense, and yet, unsettled her all the same. She could feel his tip roll up and down her opening, trying to gather whatever wetness she’d produced. And at first, it was dry. But as he pressed, something came out. Something that had been built up since she first felt his cock against her. Something in her that made her want to hurl.
“Wait—“
The head of his cock spread her cunt open and slid in. “Yesss,” Lucifer’s voice reached her ears, and she felt his hand at the back of her head, gripping her long, loose hair as he started to slide himself in and out, pushing deeper with each thrust.
“Dad—“ Charlie started, not knowing how to get through to him, but gasped at each thrust he made inside of her. There was something carnal in her body that betrayed her, some horrible lustful demon in her gut that was making her pussy wet, that reveled in both his thrusting and her disgust at it. The whole thing was disgusting. She was disgusting for even allowing it.
“Can’t hear ya, honey, over the sound of my cock in your pussy,” he sang to her. And he wasn’t wrong about the noise: he was fucking with vigor, the wetness of her making his pelvic smacks against her ass reverberate throughout the room.
God, if anyone heard them—if anyone saw them. Charlie couldn’t help it, the sobs bubbling up from her throat. The tears streamed down her face. Her horns started to grow and her tail whipped up around him as he thrust into her. She could stop this, she certainly had the power, didn’t she? But why wasn’t she? It must be because she liked it, deep down. It must be because she was horrible, disgusting and unpure, unworthy. Just like her father.
There was a shove against the back of her head from where he had a grip on her hair, and her face smacked against the golden ducky pillows.
“Cry into these, sweetie,” his voice was almost kind, but there was a mocking tone to it, too. The fact that he used the same pet name that he would for her as his daughter made something else rise in her, too. Did he know what he was doing?
His cock slowed for a moment, and Charlie felt something else down there, too. His pointed fingers, reaching beyond where he was buried inside of her and brushing up against—no, no, no, Charlie couldn’t have—no. The tears burnt as they dripped down her face, but if she didn’t need her hands to hold her up anymore, she sent them down to grip his fingers and shove them away.
His fingers retaliated by caressing her hands and pressing her touch up against her clit, “You want to cum on Daddy’s cock?” He asked her, smile smug in his voice. In an instant, golden manacles manifested on her wrists and thighs, chaining her to herself. “That’ll be the magic that gets you free of those.” He chuckled an evil, yet somehow charming, laugh.
“You know, your pussy is so tight,” Lucifer whispered into her ear, having pulled her head back and bent himself over. His cock was deep in her, pressing in a little farther like a pulse. “Tighter than I remembered.”
“That’s because I’m not—“ Her head shoved back against the pillows, and he was already straightening back up. Her tears continued as she gasped, being plowed into by his cock; his hand gripped hard into her hips.
“You better cum soon,” he warned her, becoming shorter and shorter of breath. “If you want my cock hard for it!”
There’s too much in Charlie’s head to really understand what he’s saying. Of course she didn’t want to cum, she didn’t want any of this in the first place. Yet her hands were down there, and her fingers have been on her clit, and she’s been doing all of this without really thinking, in time with his thrusting. Her hips shifted in time with his, and she hated that, too. Oh, she was so disgusting, this whole thing was so disgusting. She cried and sniveled and was getting tears all over his pillows.
Was this how her parents had sex? Shoving their own desires on each other, never listening, never knowing if the other person would treat you like a person or just an object? She didn’t get it; they were in love. If she was Lilith, if this was her being her Mom, or maybe—
Lucifer was in her place, tied up and bound to himself, her mother’s cock shoved into him and her evil laughter echoing as she fucked him while he cried—
The golden shackles he had manifested clinked open and fell away into sparkling dust. Charlie came, gasping and writhing as her revenge fantasy tipped her clit to throb over the edge under her fingers. Her dad’s cock throbbed inside of her and his own gasps went unheard by her as her body hit her with waves of ecstasy. He was saying something, shuddering against her, and she knew that he came, too, somehow. His chest pressed down flush against her back as he bent over her, cock still inside. She could feel the warmth of his cum, the strange sensation of it pooling inside her, even as he pulled himself out.
“God,” Lucifer gasped, breath heavy in his chest as he flipped over on top of his bedding. Charlie knew God would hate this, would never forgive them for it. Her stomach churned, the afterglow of her orgasm lingered but it was ebbing, a quick replacement of shame boiling underneath the surface.
She sat back onto the bed, her skin naked and exposed. One hoof off the bed, the other under her cunt, glistened with arousal, cum sliding down her insides, she knew—what if it got onto her hoof? She could feel it, if she focused on it. What a horrible thing, she thought, the golden rope in her hands.
“We should do that more often,” came Lucifer’s lazy, carefree tone from where he had sprawled out. If he had a cigarette in his hand, it wouldn’t be out of place. Except Charlie had never seen her dad smoke. But she’d never seen him like this, either—she can’t even think about it.
“No,” she said, her voice quiet. “We shouldn’t.” She stood, but it was too quick—she stumbled and sat right back down on the bed.
“Come lie with me,” her dad said. “Could go…” a yawn, “for round two… in a minute.”
Charlie wanted to do anything but that. But what could she do? Where would she go? How could she talk to anyone about this? Angel knew she had the drug, and was going to give it to her dad—
A sharp intake of breath indicated the start of his snoring, all dozed out. Fuck.
She was alone.