The Samsara, Port of Fandom, Wednesday Afternoon

[my_own_advocate]

Right, so he'd clearly failed some kind of understanding test on Octavia's mystifying thing about tiny Duke. Lucifer had spent some time last night attempting to wrap his mind around it and failing.

But, well. Octavia stalking out of the Nest in a disappointed huff was not exactly how he wanted to go into this Duke-and-Octavia-free long weekend. And clearly he'd made a mistake. So.

There he was, standing on the boardwalk just outside of Samsara, holding a fruit basket. (It had lychees in it, besides the usual suspects. And dragonfruit. An apology basket had to be properly extravagant, right? It had worked for Miss Smith, at any rate.)

"Octavia?" he called.

[[ nsfw ahead ]]

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[my_own_advocate]

"Language," Lucifer said, smirking at her.

Lazy again, yes, even as he pulled her underwear up sharply.

[okteiviakom]

Well, that was an attempted glare.

But mostly an involuntary gasp at the sudden pressure, and the pleasure that came with it.

[my_own_advocate]

They were going to have to move eventually. Not yet, though.

Lucifer's grip on her hair relaxed slowly.

He let go of her underwear and slid his hand further into her trousers, pressing and rubbing against her entrance through the fabric. "Better," he said, and took her other nipple into his mouth.

[okteiviakom]

His grip relaxed, but Octavia could still feel the ghost of it in her scalp. It joined the other faint after-the-fact sensations that were peppered along her neck and on her breast.

She tried for a slow breath in, forcing her fingers to uncurl and smooth against her thighs, but his hand forced a small noise past her lips.

The fabric wasn't thick. He could feel her muscles flutter and twitch under his touch.

[my_own_advocate]

It sent a thrill up his spine he did a better job of hiding than she had... almost anything, in these past few minutes.

But as much as Lucifer wanted to just take the underwear out of the way, he... lingered, keeping his fingers moving in a slow tease without much of a hurry.

[okteiviakom]

He'd called her a brat before any of this.

Now Octavia was living up to it, shifting a little again to try and rock her hips against his hand a little more, to try and ride his hand.

To try and push a little.

[my_own_advocate]

And his free hand slid down, gripping her hips. Making it a tight one. "Now that's cheating, dear Octavia," he said.

[okteiviakom]

Octavia tried to squirm out of it. (Maybe testing if she could get out of it.) Couldn't. Wouldn't stop another blazing glare, though.

"I do what I want."

Sure.

[my_own_advocate]

Lucifer leaned in a bit. "We'll see," he whispered.

Dragged his fingers up her underwear. Dipped them under the elastic and down, until he could press two fingers into her.

It only took a moment.

[okteiviakom]

And proved what he'd definitely already been able to figure out about how keyed up all of this was making her, how wet and welcoming despite her surface belligerence.

She bit down harshly on her own lip to hold back a moan at having something dulling the ache between her legs.

But her head tipped forward, pressing her forehead to his.

[my_own_advocate]

"Isn't that better?" Lucifer breathed, letting go of her hip.

He cupped the back of her neck instead, keeping her there as he worked his fingers in and out of her in a slowly-quickening rhythm.

[okteiviakom]

Octavia said nothing. Her breaths were noisy, though, and she had her eyes shut tight again. Focusing on feeling.

The fingers inside her and the hand at the back of her neck seemed to be of almost the same importance.

[my_own_advocate]

"Almost tempted to keep going until you come like this," Lucifer murmured, slipping a third finger in among the second. "But that might be a waste."

[okteiviakom]

"A waste of what?"

Octavia's attempted sharp tone had a slight, unfortunate whimper-like quality to it, and that third finger was entirely to blame.

[my_own_advocate]

"Of having you at my mercy," Lucifer said, a smirk and a taunt and yet strangely fond as well.

[okteiviakom]

How dare he do things to her heart when he was already doing so much to other parts of her.

"Well," Octavia rasped, a little unsteady, but with a newfound taunting edge of her own, "if you think this is all you've got..."

(One part wanted him to take his strange fondness and just wrap her up in it.

Another wanted to earn it.)

[my_own_advocate]

"Not in the slightest, my dear," Lucifer said, and tilted his head up, pressing a firm kiss against her forehead.

Then his hand retreated from her underwear and he tried to shove her onto the bed.

[okteiviakom]

Octavia resisted. Made to resist? Maybe the difference didn't really matter right now.

There was a hiss involved, all the same. Some light grabbing at his arms.

[my_own_advocate]

Lucifer was strong. There was only so much she could do.

Though his eyes did flick up to hers briefly, just to check in and make sure there was no genuine panic behind her defiance.

[okteiviakom]

There wasn't. Just defiance, mixed with fire, and almost an odd sort of joy in a moment of struggle against a force that wouldn't yield.

Her back met the mattress with a muted thump.

[my_own_advocate]

Lucifer's hands found her wrists, wet fingers leaving streaks on one of them. He pressed them against the bed and smirked down at her, concern flowing away again.

He kissed her roughly.

[okteiviakom]

Octavia bucked up against him. Protest, sure, but mostly just because wetness she could feel on her wrist was drawing her attention back to what a sorry, unfulfilled state he'd left her in.

Rough was good, though. And she gave as good as she got.

[my_own_advocate]

Lucifer slid over her to straddle her, keeping her down against the mattress with his hips. He sat upright and unbuttoned his shirt quickly, tossing it aside.

Then unbuttoned his fly.

While watching her.

[okteiviakom]

Octavia was watching him too, first his hands (his fly), then his face. Eyes narrowed like a challenge.

Just ignore the way her hands remained where he'd pressed them before pulling his away.

[my_own_advocate]

Eventually he did have to move away from her, if only for a moment. (There was just no other way to get out of his trousers.)

But he returned to the same position barely a moment later, curling his fingers in the waistband of her sweatpants and pulled them down, casting them off behind him.

He was still smirking, yes. Though also oddly focused.