Lucifer is prettiest when he's on his knees.
Raphael has never loved his stubborn pride more than when he finally bends for them. It's a selfish love; they're happy that no one else gets to see this side of him. Not yet, anyway. They'll keep his submission to themselves a little while longer, and by the time Michael has earned it or Gabriel wants it, they might be ready to share. For now, he's all theirs. He took his time today, but they're very patient and if Lucifer wants to play, he has to kneel. He knows that.
And as much as he fights it (or peacocks enough that it satisfies some need to show that he's well-adjusted to independence), he still relaxes when they lay a hand in his hair. He leans forward, sneakily trying to rest his head against their thigh. Their grip turns harsh, dragging his head back. His mouth opens with a surprised huff and stays like that as he meets their eyes.
"Are you forgetting something?" they ask. He's feigning innocence, but they know him too well to fall for it. They tighten their grip until they see it hurt him, not from a wince or grunt from the pain, but from his eyes rolling back slightly before he can adjust and pretend he's not affected. "Lucifer?"
Lucifer tugs against their grip subtly, but he frowns when they loosen it this time, letting him go. They're not going to reward him for bad behavior. Finally, he gives them his most penitent look and says, "Can I touch you?" Raphael is unimpressed, so he tilts his head and adds, "please, mommy?"
He started that all on his own. They don't know where he pulled it from, if it's a memory from his vessel or all his own idea, but Raphael… likes it. The shape of the words, the way saying them always makes his cock twitch, the way he'll start out teasing and end desperate, every time; he makes them feel powerful, adored, and trusted.
"No," they tell him, and Lucifer frowns again. He doesn't question them, knows better than to go that far, but clearly, he needs a heavier hand this scene than he usually would. They take a deep breath, feeling the oxygen fill their vessel's lungs and filter into their bloodstream. "Put your hands behind your back." Obediently, he does, and it forces him to sit up straighter, dick jumping eagerly. Raphael circles him as though inspecting his posture.
The way he's sitting, it's almost like he's presenting his cock to them, as though he's going to get to use it. Raphael settles in front of him. "Don't move," they order. "You haven't earned the privilege of touching me yet." Lucifer pouts. They restrain themselves from smacking the look off his face. Pain is only going to encourage him. If they're ever going to bring their brother to heel, they have to be smart about it. Instead, they take his chin in their hand and watch his pout vanish. "What? I never said I couldn't touch."
"I-" Lucifer begins, and Raphael shuts him up by pushing their fingers into his mouth. It's very effective.
"You're testing my patience, Lucifer," they say. Lucifer licks their fingers. "You didn't ask for permission to touch me. You didn't ask for permission to speak. How else do you want to disappoint me tonight?" There's the first genuine flash of guilt in his eyes, and that's all they need. It's never a good thing to let him linger in that feeling. They withdraw their fingers and lower them to his chest, skating them down to his nipple. "You can answer me."
"I don't," he says. He sucks in a breath as they circle his nipple until it pebbles under their finger. "I want to be good, mommy." They pinch it, hard enough to hurt, and he makes a noise low in his throat. His cock twitches.
"Then you won't move until I tell you to. You won't speak unless I ask you a question. Do you understand?"
They wait until he replies, a strained, "yes, mommy," to let go. Lucifer exhales heavily. It's a moment's reprieve before Raphael lowers their head to suck on his nipple, hand skating across his chest to play with the other one. They bite him, leaving a sore impression of their teeth around his areola, sinking them hard into his soft chest.
"Bruise for me?" Like they even have to ask. The mark remains, and Raphael can't wait to see it darken as they keep going. They bite him again a little further up, and at his collarbone, and at his neck, finally eliciting a loud groan. They keep playing with his other nipple the whole time, not letting up as they pinch and pull. But he's managed not to move (if they'll ignore the way he arches into their touch to be hurt more) and that deserves its own reward. They cover the last bite with a kiss. "Good boy." Lucifer's cock has been leaking all over itself, and those words make it drip even more precome, a few drops hitting the floor between his legs when they get too heavy to slide down the shaft.
They take it in their hand lightly. They can't resist biting him again to feel the way he twitches in response. They stroke him, more exploratory than focused on his pleasure. His hips rock involuntarily against their hand. His mouth moves soundlessly, mommy, but he's being so good, as quiet and still as he can manage. Raphael slides their hand down to cup his balls. He feels very ready to come. They smile, sinking their teeth into the meat of his shoulder as they begin stroking him again. This time, Lucifer moans from it. He falls to pleasure so easily, those tiny rolls of his hips becoming thrusts as Raphael drags him towards his orgasm. They feel his pulse under his skin, rapid arousal pouring through his veins. They pay very close attention to the pattern of his breaths, the throb of his cock in their hand, the speed of his thrusts, all counting down to when they will finally-
Let go.
Lucifer thrusts into nothing as they wipe their sticky hand off on his thigh. He does it again, and then he whimpers. The pleasure crashes back down from its heights, leaving him wrecked.
"You did it again," Raphael says as he reels from the denial. "Do you have permission to come?" Lucifer forces himself to stop humping the air, returning back to the stillness that Raphael asked for. His hands remain behind his back, never once reaching for them.
"No," he says. "I don't. I won't." He sounds more determined than desperate. That won't last.
"You have to prove you can keep being good for me… for mommy," they say. Lucifer's breath catches, and they wonder which excites him more, them calling themself mommy or the threat of denial. Maybe its the chance they're giving him to prove how good he is. Raphael gets to their feet again, using Lucifer to push themselves up. He's trying to steady himself, and that gives them time to prepare. There's still some rebellion left in his tensed shoulders and the way he glares at the ground. Lucifer isn't used to being told no.
It's almost funny. A few thousand years locked up in Hell and he still comes out with the same entitlement. Raphael tastes intoxicating power by doing what God couldn't, by breaking Lucifer down until he accepts what he's given, by teaching him to enjoy it.
As they listen to his breathing fall back into a comfortable rhythm, they get themselves ready. Lucifer isn't the only one who goes searching through his vessel's memories for advice. Raphael wouldn't know how to strap on a fake cock otherwise, and that would be a tragedy, not knowing what Lucifer looks like when he's pinned down and fucked out of his mind. They could always make their own, give it flesh and nerves and connect it to their vessel, but there's another level of control that comes with using a toy instead. (Another level of safety, when they don't want to be touched but do want to participate.)
Lucifer looks up from the ground. His eyes skim Raphael's new dick, licking his lips, before he looks up at them instead. Waiting, a front of perfect obedience betrayed by how hard he's clenching his hands together behind his back to keep from touching himself. Raphael strokes their dick, adjusting it to rest on their pubic mound rather than rub up against the clit. They like the way their dark hair spills out around the harness's straps. They step towards Lucifer, and just because they can, because he will let them, they run the cool silicone head of their cock against his face. They use the tip to pull his lips apart. "Is this what you want?"
"Yes." Lucifer's voice comes out strained with need. Raphael rubs their cock against his cheek, giving him a look until he figures out what they're waiting for. He swallows. "Can I suck your cock, mommy?" His lips purse, a stolen kiss against the shaft, but they'll allow it. "Please? Can I make you feel good?"
"No hands," they tell him, "and you can only touch my cock. You have to make me come that way if you ever want me to consider letting you have your own orgasm." His eyes flick down to their hidden clit and back to their own in understanding. It's two-pronged, respect for the boundary they're setting at and a silent protest at how unfair the impossible task is that he would never dare voice. As a reward, they slide their cock back to his mouth and curl their fingers in his hair.
Lucifer pleasures the toy like they can feel it. There's no hesitation, no holding back. He swallows the knob of it down and lets more slide into his mouth with every bob of his head. It isn't a long toy but a well-designed one. He knows exactly what the purpose is of the slight curve to the shaft, and he worships it for them. His lips stretch around it, slicking it with his spit as he fits more inside his mouth. They don't get much feedback, only an on-off pressure against their pubis, but the sight of him is worth everything. Lucifer pops off the head of the cock and licks it, slowly, as though he's trying to get back at Raphael for denying him with some teasing of his own. If they could feel it, it would probably work.
Lucifer is still hard. His dick is turning a desperate shade of red. Raphael drops a hand to his shoulder to hold him still. They tap his knees with their foot, and his eyes shut as he swallows their whole cock down his throat and spreads his legs for them. He holds there for a minute before dragging himself off again, panting heavily for air he doesn't need.
His eyes have gone hazy, looking up at them with endless adoration. They take their dick in hand and tap the head of it against his open mouth, watching as he tries to close his lips around it each time before they pull it away again. "You want mommy's cock?" Lucifer nods.
This is why Raphael is so greedy about having him. Lucifer is eager to please. He's obedient, only for them. They let him lick the toy, watching how he treats it. It's like he fully believes that if he sucks on it long enough, then Raphael will come. Because they told him it's possible. Because they said it's the only way for him to earn his orgasm.
A shiver of pleasure spins up Raphael's spine. They pet Lucifer's hair as he kisses the plastic shaft. They slide their foot between his legs. Lucifer grunts against the toy as their toes catch against his balls. They press up a little too hard until he groans. They let his shaft rub against their calf, upsetting the hair on their leg. Lucifer looks up at them again, and they dangle him there, unable to ask for permission without them prompting him first. Finally, they show mercy, "Is there something else you want?"
"Can I rub against you, mommy?" They move their foot, stroking the base of his shaft. Lucifer's whole body reacts, jerking forward into the sensation. It must feel like ecstasy when he's been so close to the edge already. "Please? I-" Lucifer bows over their foot as they press it against his shaft, one of his hands against the ground to hold himself up. He moans for them. "Please," he manages, like anything more complicated has fled his mind, "mommy, please, I'm being good, I'm-" They let up, giving him a chance to catch his breath. Lucifer has leaked precome all over their calf.
They smile. He's only making this worse for himself. He has to know they won't let him come, but he's still begging to be ruined.
"You're right. You've earned this." Lucifer straightens, nuzzling their stomach as he calms down. "You've been so good that I'll let you sit on the floor and hump my leg." Lucifer kisses under their belly button. "That's more than you deserve, isn't it?"
"Yes, mommy, thank you," he agrees without protest, and they know they've sent him deep into his own mind from that alone. He'd do anything they asked right now. His trust is something they want to protect.
"Suck," they order, and he's on their cock again without hesitation, eyes heavy-lidded as he gazes up at them. They shut every few bobs of his head as he relishes his task, but he always makes sure to look up at them again. They plant their foot firmly between his legs. He rolls his hips. The slide is helped by sweat and precome, easier each time Lucifer thrusts against their calf.
He falls into a rhythm, seeking their pleasure as fervently as his own. It's discordant compared to his earlier endeavor. All his attempts to tease are lost as he rocks against their leg, and what starts as absent rubbing devolves into a desperate rut. Lucifer whines around their cock as they show no signs of getting closer to orgasm and he drives himself to the edge.
They're ready to stop him from coming themself, a sharp reprimand already on their tongue, did you make me come? No? Then why do you think you should get to? Only Lucifer swallows them down again, his cock rolling helplessly against their leg, his eyes squeezed shut as he tries so hard not to give in to his pleasure, before he yanks himself back. Their dick pops out of his mouth, shiny with spit, and Lucifer shakes from the effort of stopping his orgasm in its tracks. He splays his thighs wide open, leaning back, to make sure his dick gets zero friction. Raphael watches it leak and twitch uselessly.
"Mama, I can't," Lucifer pleads, and every last bit of rebellion has finally been drained out of him. "I'm being good for you?" His voice wavers, skirting into vulnerability only they ever get to hear. The admonishment Raphael had prepared melts on their tongue, leaving a sweeter taste.
"You couldn't do what I asked," they tell him, and Lucifer's face falls until they continue, "but it must have been too hard. I can't expect that much from you. You're still learning how to be good." They extend a hand, and Lucifer tilts his head into it happily. As affectionate when he's been broken down like this as a dog. A hellhound, maybe, all sharp teeth and anger until they roll over and show their belly. "You knew you didn't earn it, and you stopped. I'm proud of you."
"I didn't come, mama," he says. "For you. All for you."
"Does it hurt?" they ask.
"Yes." Raphael doesn't bother to hold back their smile. They get down on his level. Gently, they trace two fingers up the length of his dick. Even that small touch makes it throb.
"How about that? Does that make it worse?" Lucifer makes a noise in the back of his throat, a heavy urgh. They rub their thumb against the swollen, wet head. "Does this hurt, Lucifer?"
"Mama-"
"Answer me." They keep rubbing. Lucifer sucks in a breath.
"It hurts. It- Mama!" Lucifer thrusts, and they withdraw their hand. They look at the mess he's made of it briefly before taking his chin in their other hand and using his face to wipe the dirty one off. Lucifer opens his mouth like he's offering to lick his own precome up, but they ignore him, smearing it over his cheek instead. When they're done, they survey their handiwork. He's such a beautiful ruined mess.
"Don't you have anything to say to mommy?" Lucifer blinks at them, the fog filling his mind visible behind his eyes.
"Thank you for hurting me, mama." If they wanted to, they could keep him on this edge for hours, until he loses the ability to speak, to think, to do anything but whimper as they stroke him. They think they'd enjoy breaking him that thoroughly. Lucifer arches slightly like he's begging for more torture. They place a hand against his chest.
"Get on your hands and knees," they say, and they shove him. It's a testament to how completely out of it Lucifer is that he sprawls on the ground for a minute before he rolls over. He bows his spine and spreads his legs, presenting himself for them.
If touching his dick is torture, then fingering him must be a new level of agony. Raphael doesn't even have to focus on him. He's already so sensitive that their perfunctory preparations have him writhing. He opens for them slick and easy. Raphael brushes his prostate once and nearly loses control of the whole scene when Lucifer gets too close, but quick thinking and the sharp clamp of their hand around his balls drags him back forcefully.
"Down, boy," they say, still thinking about hellhounds, and even hearing them makes him tense and whine as though their words can touch him. "Do you want to come?"
"No. No." He chokes his words through a moan they force out of him. "I want to be good for you, mama." Raphael cups his balls. They rub their thumb up behind them gently. Even that light touch makes his balls draw up tight, his orgasm held back by his own willpower and Raphael's hand, but either could abandon him in a moment. He's at their mercy to never come again and at the mercy of his vessel to come before he wants to.
"What if I gave you permission?" they ask, spreading the fingers in his hole until they feel it clench and relaxing them again. They repeat the process, opening him up a little wider each time. "Would you want to then?"
"But I couldn't-" They squeeze his balls. Lucifer's sentence gets cut off in a wail of pain, but it makes his cock leak more when they let him go.
"Don't argue with me." Lucifer catches his breath. They lean in to catch a glimpse of his face. His eyes are shut tight, his cheeks are flushed with the effort of holding back, and his mouth can't close from how hard he's panting. They feel utterly pleased with what they've wrought. "If mommy tells you to come, you do it, and you'll like it." They massage his abused balls. Their role is so easy to slide into now. "I think you should lose your orgasm one last time, to prove how obedient you are." Lucifer whines helplessly, unable (and unwilling) to tell them no. "It'll hurt so much when you do come if you're more sensitive."
They don't touch his cock. He won't be able to take it if they do. Instead, they keep their hand where they can rub at his balls and perineum, alternating back and forth. Their fingers keep thrusting into his hole, but slower, letting the pleasure build. Lucifer shakes. He manages to warn them at the last second, and they draw their hands away.
Lucifer folds. His back bows into the ground, strength giving out. He buries his face in his arm to muffle how he screams at being denied this time. Raphael catches his hips and keeps his lower half upright, but from the way his legs wobble, if they let go for even a second, he'll end up on the ground.
They can hear him mumbling into his arm as his scream dies down. They don't need him to lift his head to know how he's begging. 'Mama, please, it hurts,' and maybe 'stop, stop,' without any real desire for Raphael to do so, or maybe 'don't stop, don't ever stop.' Raphael kisses the base of his spine.
They push the toy inside him. His hole resists, tighter than usual from how tensed up he is. A soft order for him to relax, their finger rubbing around his rim, and he gives in. Raphael pushes every inch inside him until he groans. They roll their hips back and force the toy into him again. Any faster and this will end. They drag it out until Lucifer is a rubber band stretched further and further, so taut that he can't go on, either about to snap on his own or be released by Raphael.
"Come for mommy," they order. They draw their hips back at the same slow pace and then slam into him. The toy's curve drives it home. Lucifer's whole body convulses as they hit his prostate dead-on and then rock the tip of their toy against it.
"Yes, ma-" Lucifer had started to say. He loses control over his vocal cords before he can finish. Instead, all that escapes his throat are moans that rip their way out of his chest. He moves erratically, thrusting against nothing and then shoving himself back into them. Raphael milks out every rope of come he's been holding back until the ground beneath him is stained.
And then more for good measure, forcing Lucifer to keep coming until there's nothing left for him to give.
And then a little more, fucking him as hard as they want to while he slowly goes quiet except for little gasps. They stop when they see his half-hard cock twitch its way through a dry orgasm as he shivers silently. They lift their hands from his hips, and Lucifer slides right off of the toy. He lays limply on the ground.
They touch his cheek, looking for a reaction, and get none. They kiss his shoulder. His grace is as flayed open as he looks, and they let their own move to soothe it as they get Lucifer off the floor and wrestle his uncooperative vessel into their nest. They let him rest there, curled around them. Their harness has fallen by the wayside, and they talk at him, letting their voice guide him back to consciousness. Simple things, like "You were so good for mommy, Lucifer," and, "take your time, there's no rush, I put you through a lot."
Eventually, Lucifer looks up at them and recognizes where he is. He smiles, stretches. His soft cock brushes their knee and makes him jerk in surprise from how sensitive he is.
"How do you feel?" He seems okay, but it's better to ask directly, to not give Lucifer a chance to hide from them.
"Exhausted. Sore." He breathes deeply, reasserting some control over himself. His eyes slide over to meet theirs. "Thank you for making me come, mommy." It's more teasing than submissive now. Raphael catches a hint of something else in his tone, too.
"You're disappointed?"
"No, never," he reassures, "you gave me exactly what I needed." That eases some worry in them and they relax more as their graces intermingle. Raphael lends Lucifer their control to help him feel like himself. Lucifer shares the echoes of pleasure and pain they made him feel. "I was thinking about next time. You could follow through on your threat when I fail. Don't let me get off that scene."
"I'll keep that in mind." Lucifer hums, eyes shutting. Then, they snap open and narrow at Raphael sharply.
"You set me up. That was a toy. I can't make a toy orgasm!" And Raphael laughs at his dismay.
"You had it in your mouth. You really forgot it wasn't real?"
"You told me to-" Lucifer huffs. Raphael takes pity, stroking his messy hair. He shuts his eyes again, leaning into their touch, though he's still pouting about the impossible task they set.
"Next time," they promise, "if I feel comfortable that day, I'll let you get your tongue inside me, or maybe I'll let you suck my real cock." Appeased, Lucifer settles. They absently pet him and plan their next scene.