It catches you off, because he could have said anything, because he’s this embarrassed to ask for this much. He hesitates, looking at you, eyelids drooping and pupils dilated, but eventually he murmurs “Kiss me some more.” You think it’s that he has to tell that makes Lucifer blush again, pretty red against his pale skin. “Maybe a little,” you admit, then, “Tell me what you want.” “Are you testing me, MC?” He asks, as sternly as he can muster. “You’re so precious,” you praise, because you can’t help it. “What is it, baby? What do you want?” He soaks it up, this time, leaning into the touch as best he can, though you’re not sure he’s even aware he’s doing it. He breathes your name sweetly when you pull away, and you pet his hair in lieu of immediately kissing him again. You tilt his head up and lean in close to his face. “Kiss me.” It’s an order, but it doesn’t need to be. All high and mighty like the rules are different for you. ‘I will not belong to you.’ Did that make you feel better? Feel like you were in control?” “Don’t talk to me like that,” you command, and then soften. “And of course not. “Is this what you’re trying to do? Make me angry?”
He stiffens, and when you come back to look at his face he looks irritated. You nip at his ear, lean in and whisper, “You’re pathetic.” Your other hand comes up to run through his hair, and he closes his eyes for a moment, breathing in. He doesn’t need an order for that, his hands coming to your waist like they’re meant to always be there. “And what is it I don’t understand?” You hold his face in one hand, and you see him almost lean into it. “You’re so fucking cute,” you praise quietly, and you notice his hands all but twitching at his sides. “Aw, baby. “Is that right,” he answers, but it comes out breathy, and he’s flushed pink from how close you two are. You’re the one,” as you speak, you straddle his legs and settle in his lap, “who seems to have a lack of understanding how this works.” “No,” you say back simply. “I already know mine. “Testing the parameters, I see,” he says dryly, as you come around the furniture after him. It’s clear Lucifer feels the pull of it immediately, and he makes sure his last action before he complies is to glare at you. You draw on the shiny new pact connecting you two and let it creep into your voice. “Now.” He doesn’t respond right away, looking at you quizzically, and you don’t let him. He doesn’t answer, but changes his gaze as if to ask what it is.
“Then it’s settled,” he says, and you feel the now-familiar burn of a seal on your palm, beneath the skin. “As of this moment, MC, you are mine.” You look into his eyes, smile, and cross your fingers behind your back. “Yes.” “So, do you understand what you’re asking? Do you agree to my terms?” He looks menacing and predatory and entirely pleased with himself. But he can be so sweet, to you and to his brothers. You shouldn’t, right now, while he’s standing in front of you in demon form like he wants to scare you. “… I won’t have you lumping me in with the others.”