spncentral | TFLN

"So. Will you behave on your own or will I have to make you?" Lucifer asks in a deadly quiet voice, not releasing his grip on Dean's jaw. If Dean has even two brain cells to rub together, the answer had better be yes, he's planning to behave. Lucifer could do quite a bit more than just what he's done so far and has threatened to do in order to immobilize Dean.

That would also be the point where he stops caring if Dean gets any enjoyment out of this tryst.

If he'd been allowed to speak, the reply would've been an easy 'I'm good.' But somehow it's infinitely harder to just straight up nod, as if outright compliance is somehow a painful act. But after staring for what feels like too long, Dean finally manages it once, tipping his head. Considering he's got more than a few brain cells left, and how he'd like to leave them intact, he figures he might as well be good for this portion of the show.

At least he'd find a way to get a kick out of it somehow.

Lucifer releases Dean's jaw to allow him to move, watching him like a hawk. "On your knees. Now."

Don't make him give the order twice.

Rolling his head back on his shoulders once he's let go of, Dean still takes a hot second to get his bearings before his frustrations get the better of him. And before he can let himself do anything stupid, he drops, going precariously down to one knee and then onto both, finding himself face to face with Lucifer's cock. Which is, to put it bluntly, a position he never thought he'd find himself in, swallowing thickly now that reality is coming to a head.

Lucifer tangles the fingers of one hand in Dean's hair as he looks down at him. So far as he was concerned, Dean was right where he belonged; on his knees in submission to him. If only Michael could see this right now.

As uncomfortable as it could've been, having Lucifer's fingers curled into his hair wasn't actually the worst thing in the world. It was distressing enough to be held in place that Dean's breath quickened - mind racing to decide what to do next - but mostly because he had put himself here. The theory of this was was infinitely worse than the practice, which was exactly the problem.

Dean just didn't know how or where he was supposed to start. And he wasn't about to dive in just for fun, lips parting as he flicked his gaze back up to Lucifer, a touch lost.

"I'm sure you've received plenty of blow jobs from your conquests. You might want to start with what you knows feels good when you're on the receiving end," Lucifer says, taking pity on Dean after a moment to put the hamster that was Dean's mind back on the wheel.

While Dean can think through that logically enough; acting on it is a whole different ballgame.

Getting over the hurdle of starting is going to the roughest, his gaze flicking back down to take in the sights. How is he just supposed to jump in on this? It isn't exactly like he'd had practice with someone other than the Devil which somehow makes the act of opening his mouth significantly harder. And to think, all he wanted to do is talk. Now he can't even crack a grin.

Leaning in closer, Dean dares himself to go for it, to get it over with, to just fucking do it. His lips even part, finding himself breathing significantly harder before he just goes and clams up.

"My patience isn't limitless," Lucifer points out in a mild tone as he watches Dean's mental wrestling match. He's aware this was difficult for Dean, which is why he isn't pushing too hard yet. Still, as he said; he's not going to wait forever.

Clock ticking loudly in his brain, Dean is fully aware of the time constraints laid out before him. It doesn't make it easier to do anything, but at the very least it means he has to come to a conclusion.

With it comes the realization that having control of his hands might've been useful, at least for the means of holding on to Lucifer with. Because now he has to go bobbing for it, one more notch added to his list of humiliations. There's just nothing left for him but to do it, scooting his way in closer until all it really should take is a quick, unjustifiable act. Which Dean... just can't seem to go through with, wrenching himself back fully until he's leaning onto his heels, staring holes in Lucifer's hips.

If Dean felt like cooperating and proving that Lucifer could leave his hands free, he would have have them available to use. But he didn't, so he doesn't. He shall just have to reap what he's sown.

Lucifer's hand tightens in Dean's hair warningly. "Dean. You don't have all night."

Edited (Too many hands all up in this comment.) 2016-03-09 01:40 (UTC)

Snapping his gaze back up at the words, Dean stares for a good few long seconds, trying his hardest to keep his mind blank. Anything he can think to say is for sure only going to be the wrong thing and so he at least tries for as long as he can manage, still sorting through his feelings on the matter before he finally just up and decides he might as well see what he's up against.

Because why do what he might not really have to.

Shooting a definitive 'Make me,' in Lucifer's direction, Dean simply lifts his eyebrows and waits expectantly.

Oh Dean. That was the wrong thing to say. Lucifer snaps the threatened gag into existence, squatting down to shift his grip on Dean's hair to his jaw to force his mouth open for the gag. Once it's in, it's quickly fastened in place to keep Dean's mouth open for as long as Lucifer wants it to be. "Just remember, you asked for this. All of it."

Then he's standing again and gripping Dean's hair again, dragging his head forwards as he guides his cock into Dean's mouth with his other hand. He thrusts into Dean's mouth as soon as he's in. If Dean wasn't going to fulfill his side of things, Lucifer will just have to take what he wants by fucking his mouth.

Dean knows for a fact that it was, to a certain extent, the wrong thing to say. But at the end of the day, now he can forgive himself at least some of these sins. He can stand by the fact that he didn't choose to do it for the fun of it. That Lucifer chose for him, no matter what truths the archangel says.

Attempting to jerk his head away from the gag, there's only so far he can go without toppling over, eyes going wide with the realization that he's squarely shit out of luck. At least it all happens fast enough that Dean doesn't even have time to think through it, Dean's mouth jacked open in an instant, leaving him to bite down on the metal all too aggressively.

Just as quickly, Lucifer's cock is taking up the warmth of his mouth while Dean crams his eyes shut, fingers twisted tight in his hair. Because maybe if he doesn't watch the whole thing happening, he won't have to realize the reality of it. That doesn't mean he can exactly help himself from responding now that it's there, his tongue working against Lucifer's length, swallowing thickly. There isn't much else he can do, grumbling silently in the back of his throat.

Lucifer rolls his hips forwards at a rapid pace, no longer caring how Dean feels about what they or doing or even Dean's comfort. If Dean had simply cooperated, he could have done this at more of a pace he would be happy with. Instead, Lucifer is choosing for him and if he goes in deeper than Dean would like, well, Dean has only himself to blame.

There's really something to be said for Lucifer not taking it easy on him. In a twisted way, at least he won't have Lucifer's kindness to add to his disgust, as if the archangel's attempts to be gentle would only make Dean that much more guilt ridden. But for now, it's all Dean can do to ride it out, swallowing in furious tandem with Lucifer's thrusts. The last thing he needs is to prove he can't take it by, well- not taking it, wrists twisting behind him every time Lucifer goes precariously deep. And yet he's still trying to think of something to provide, because now that he's in the position, he has to do something to take the edge off.

Dean gave up his chance to have any control over the situation. Lucifer might give him another chance later. After this round was done.

Lucifer keeps his hips rolling forwards, driving himself in deeper and forcing Dean to take his full length. He's aware that depending on Dean's gag reflex, it will feel good for himself; albeit, not so much for Dean.

There was no way that it felt good, nothing about it that even came close to being pleasant. Dean might've been altogether thankful that he managed to keep from gagging around Lucifer's cock, but there was no enjoyment apart from that. If anything, he found himself all too hot in the wrong kind of way. Ashamed of himself, violently so, forced to withstand every thrust until he wasn't sure he could take anymore. And yet it kept coming, every pulse of hips crushed against his nose, Lucifer's noises making him ache. There was no escaping it, this thing that he'd done, nothing but the reminder that he'd asked for every second.

It's about to get worse. Lucifer's hips roll forwards a final time before he comes, pulling back just enough to fill Dean's mouth to make him taste it before swallowing.

It does, in fact, get worse. Not that it isn't to be expected, but there's no warning (which isn't really expected, either.) It's powerfully sudden, Dean left with the sudden musky taste of Lucifer's come on the back of his tongue. There's nothing to do but swallow, doing it hard and fast around the head of Lucifer's cock, getting the whole thing over with as quickly as he can manage. Squeezing his eyes shut through the brunt of it is all Dean can do to manage, trying to blank out the image before him.

"Before you start feeling sorry for yourself, you were given chances to make things easier for yourself," Lucifer points out mildly as he withdraws from Dean's mouth and steps back to look down at Dean critically.

"So. Do you finally feel like behaving?" If yes, Lucifer will consider freeing Dean's hands. If not, he's going to need to redo things slightly for the hands and knees portion of things.

If there's one thing that Dean's craving, it's a particularly pleasant jaw popping, getting hideously tired of the gag more than anything else. He's had his had cuffs behind his back more times than he can count, but the damn gag takes the cake. Which is undoubtedly why his gaze finally jumps back up to meet Lucifer's a few moments after he's able.

After all that, he's willing to behave. To the best of his ability, which isn't saying terribly much, but there's only so much he can give - something he's proven time and time again. I'll be good: a thought he pushes rather forcefully, shifting apprehensively already.

"Be sure you do," Lucifer says warningly, removing the gag and the chain of the cuffs with a snap of his fingers. The cuffs themselves are staying; they're perfectly smooth aside from the loops where the chain is connected. Aside from that, they'll probably remind Dean of nothing so much as Wonder Woman's bracers.

Well thank god for that. Or angels. Or something- Dean doesn't care. Staring off at nothing in particular as he works his jaw back into some semblance of order, he gives his hands a shake off, letting the blood flow back in to his shoulders. He couldn't care less that the cuffs are still there, it's just nice to have full use of his hands again, bracing his palms on his thighs before he slowly looks back to Lucifer, figuring the next set of directions won't be terribly far behind.

At the very least he looks utterly resolute, trying to be still with the slightest hope that he might earn his voice back in due time.

"You're going back to the bed and getting on your hands and knees." As expected, Lucifer gives Dean his next set of orders. Which he should have expected really since he had been told he was going to be doing exactly what Lucifer just told him.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject