He Wasn't Even On A Kilter. Not Near A Kilter.

This is an IC NSFT/Vent blog for burningfeathers/Lucifer

old nsft blog

making this anew

nsft body type details

If his thigh was, he wasn't the least bit worried about it.

"You don't have to beg, Irene. Not this time." An honest rumble of a statement near her ear. Recently 'cleaned' hand already cupping a lower cheek and squeezing to keep her close. He'd known from the first stammer and hesitant attempt to back out of a heart felt statement that she wasn't primed to have her ego played with.

Couldn't earn her trust if he broke her to her knees and started treating her like a toy. Gotta save that up for when she knew she wasn't just a warm body to rut into. That takes some showing and doing, not just some promising. Knew that from rote in experience of his own.

The look she'd given him had also sealed that envelope on the matter of how he was going to behave.

Abdomen did flutter under her hand as it was skimming downward. Couldn't avoid that or the hopeful way his arousal perked between them. Much as he was minding her more than himself, he wasn't running anywhere near cold-blooded.

While the hand on her ass was enjoying it's place, the other was teasing a touch through her hair. He's undoing whatever updo is going on. For kicks. Nothing wrong with mussing up a well made look. She got her kiss and another before he was speaking warm and confident again,

"What do you want, hm? Only thing I don't do is get on my knees." But there were ways to improvise if she had certain things she was wanting. He knew his way around his own restriction. "Just ask." She really didn't have to beg today.

There’d be resistance to him pulling his fingers out, her thighs attempting to keep his hand trapped but she was too weak at the moment to truly stop him. A whine escapes her when he breaks the kiss, lips pursing into a pout. She’d get flustered all over again however watching him lick his fingers, a pang shooting through her belly and blood rushing to her cheeks.

God, why did you make the devil so hot? And why did you make her heart so easy?

“S-Shuddup!” Irene’s protest is as weak as her hand giving his chest a half hearted whap before she tilts her face away as if she’d be able to hide it in this position. “I…I don’t..usually…”

She turns her face back to him, attempting to regain what composure she could while leaning naked and dripping against his body. She was certain his thigh must have been soaked by now. There was another pang now, this one in her chest that reflected in her eyes as she looks up at him. She parts her lips to speak, but decides instead to try for more kisses.

“W-we’re not done yet…I…I have more hollering I want to do..” Soft kisses along his jaw, a hand sliding along his stomach. “I’ll beg..just this once…touch me more please~”

He was certainly opened up.

Took an impressive amount of self control not to tense back up at the loss. A nasally, breathy, whine breaking quarantine.

Fuck, okay, maybe he bit off a lot here. That became really crystal when he finally got too good of a feel of Dietrich dragging his cock along him. That's a gut wrecker. The realization felt delirious. Still horny, but a lot more concerned.

The tapering glans was hardly the worst, even gave him some forewarning. Still made the most embarrassing fucking sound when the stretch and resistance came. So much for breathing calm for the hitch that came with the warble of a whine.

Forgot he was supposed to be pinned and yanked a hand free from Diet's grip to cover his face with his arm. He was so fucking exposed and he wasn't used to breaking down in front of the wolfman.

That was good. That's what he wanted.

Once he was confident he wouldn't cause too much of an issue, he'd pull his fingers free, angling to get a satisfied look at that hole of his, all prepped and ready.

"Been good so far, can have reward," he'd growl out, finally freeing himself from his jogging pants, slicking the red length of his cock up as he pressed the sheathe right back. A good nine inches and thick, pointed at the end, the knot just starting to swell near the base. He'd let it rest a moment over Lucifer's cock, teasing, even let it leave a wet smear of pre against the Fallen's stomach before he'd draw his hips back enough to press that first inch slowly inside.

"Nice and easy, there we go..."

Boys who are bigger than me and still submit? Hot. Knowing that at any moment you could 100% not do what I’m saying and yet here you are, on your knees, willfully submitting? To see you look up at me and trust that I know what to do, what you should do, and you’re goin to give over all you have to me even though you don’t have to? Amazing . 11/10.

On the other hand, there are the boys who I 100% can pick up and throw on a bed. I can pin your arms against a wall and we both know that you cannot get out from under me, I am in complete control. To look those boys in the eye in see you squirm a bit, and know that you won’t get out. To look them in the the eye and see the trust that I know what I’m doing and I’m gonna take care of you, of us, and they’re going to love it? Incredible. 11/10.

Submission isn’t a body type. Submission isn’t better or worse with a certain body type - it’s just different: a different power structure, a different type of trust.

So tell me what you need baby, and I’ll deliver.

Make me feel alive

ain’t nothing wroooooong…….with a lil chub on tuuuum….

[Handsome, goofy, bonobo husband. He pressed a number more of kisses to his face and lips, brief and soft.] Love you too. [He pulled out of himself from that vulnerable place in him.

Wasting a little bit of soul energy to mimic a minor miracle that cleaned up them both of the mess they'd made without needing to leave for a shower. He wanted to keep him here. Close and warm and his.

Even slipped out of Duncan to press Rook between them too of them. Something Duncan had no problem facilitating by squeezing them both into himself as he settled them into laying comfortably together.]

[ He did. He trusted Lucifer implicitly, explicitly, in every way. Especially with that spot. If he used it 'against him' it was for fun and not to take advantage in a bad way.

Rook was well-addled but made pleased noises about the affection, psychic energy stroking over Lucifer, little staticky prickles touching whatever was available while his higher functions were rebooting. His balls would certainly ache before long, but Rook would say it was well worth it. ]

Luv y'...

[ Managed it more on reflex than anything else, his subconscious need to tell Lucifer still in his mental buffer. ]

And disturb all that art you've mad--oh, you mean with your invisible feelers. [He could be intelligent with a budding erection, shh. He did take a pause to hold tie away and he leaned over and laved tongue over one of those perky bits of Rook's chest. Teeth scraping before he pulled up and away again.]

Hm, sure.

Well. I suppose you'll jus' have t'take it off then...

[ Faux innocent at him, even as he shivered from the touch, nips perking in anticipation. He did, presently, have boxers on, slung low on his waist, though that was it. The cream was hand-whipped and flavoured with champagne. As a treat. ]

I can help, if y'like.

[The kiss makes him more tense somehow. Like a coiling spring in a music box.

Comes loose like one, lashing sharp edges, when the kiss breaks and Pride speaks. Like he'd been waiting for some kind of permission to do it, he got fistful of the Sin's shirt collar and shoved him back and up into the wall he'd mentioned before.

Not to choke him. Just to pin him and have him held up the couple inches to his fucking comfort level to kiss him again.

At some point between the first and second kiss, heat had gotten into his eyes. A consuming fire sort of heat.

Matched the way the kiss stole from Pride's influence as much as his lungs.]

[ If Pride had dialed into Lucifer’s need earlier with his requests, then those eyes were like having the realization slam into him like a truck that skidded on black ice. He was not so naive to think that others like himself were prone to emotion that they didn’t necessarily want. It was why Pride was ending up with violent attachments. And it dictated how he handled them. (Poorly, mainly.)

But he was not used to it being so obvious. And certainly not on Lucifer. It sent a weird sensation of violent, buzzing wasps in his chest and up into his ears, drowning out a lot of the already muted ambiance around them.

This wouldn’t do. Had he let his influence slip from the Fallen so badly??? Had he been THAT distracted? Or was it because he felt like he was no longer needed…?

It didn’t matter. What mattered now was how he would go about addressing it. Before the buzzing got louder.

Not looking away, he tucked the sunglasses into Lucifer’s pocket, for now. Didn’t want him hiding behind them again. But he soon reached up to take that face in his hands. Wouldn’t force him to meet his gaze before leaning forward to catch that mouth with his own. He’d seen enough of the staring. He’d let his influence seep in through the contact, digging through the well to feed Lucifer a quick dose before he pulled back just enough to say: ]

Take as much as you want. Whatever you need. [ He said lowly, encouraging even in his words as they tumbled warmly from his lips. ]

You and only you are worthy enough to have my All.