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In case you were wondering, the Devil isn't all horns and claws and world domination. Not at all, actually. If wanting money, power, and sex were the greatest sins, then practically every person on Earth would be an almighty demon lord, and the Devil would be out of a job.

Greed is only one aspect of him, and it's not a very big one. He's greedy, sure. But he lacks a certain... Ambition. But that's only natural. He's quite lazy at times.

He does have horns and claws though. But he doesn't use them very often.

You see, the only reason the Devil is in any way dangerous is that he knows he isn't righteous. And because of that, he hasn't gone insane despite existing all these millennia. When people have a sense of purpose they think is righteous, then they consider themselves righteous. They lose their minds for their purposes, believing that it must be achieved at all costs. Righteous people are easily manipulated, they'll do anything if they think what they're doing is right. The Devil can't be manipulated at all.

On the flip side, this is what makes him so benign. He has no sense of purpose. If his goals are met, well great. If his goals aren't met, he simply doesn't care. He won't extend any more effort than he sees fit, and knows when to cut his losses.

Except when it comes to lust. Then he'll stop at nothing to achieve what he wants.

That's where I come in.

I had snuck in the back door of a bar owned by a friend's older brother to win a bet that I could prove to said friend's brother that I could drink him under a table. The guy practically kept the place open by selling to minors, since we were in a college town, so I probably could've walked in the front no problem. But I snuck through the back anyway. Don't ask me why. Stupid, I know. The whole shebang was moronic. I was a kid, cut me some slack.

The funny thing is, I actually only had one drink. I was sitting across from this friend's brother. His name started with an "I", sounded something like Ignition, but that wasn't quite it. I know it was something as stupid as Ignition though. Anyway, I'm sitting across from him, when I get the feeling I'm being watched. So I glance over, and I see this... guy. He looked young, nineteen or twenty maybe. The dude was pale as bone, tall, kind of lanky. Wearing all black. His hair was black and messy, it was hanging low so I couldn't see his eyes. But I knew he was staring right at me. His whole body was turned toward me in fact.

He stood up and walked toward me slowly. I heard what's-his-name say something like, "Oh forget it, you're not paying attention anyway. I gotta take a piss. Be right back." I vaguely noticed him get up right as this new guy reached me. He extended his hand in a gesture that didn't seem entirely friendly, but I took it anyway, shocked to learn that his hand was freezing. I looked up at him, his features were angular. He was clearly attractive. His voice was low and husky when he asked me, "What's your name?"

"F-fionna," I squeaked out. I cleared my throat and tried very hard to sound intimidating. "Yours?"

"You can call me... Marshall." He seemed like he made the name right on the spot. "You seem a bit young to be in here."

I squared my shoulders. "I could say the same to you."

He chuckled. "I'm a bit older than I look." He angled his head just so I could see his eyes. They were blood red.

I'd like to say that I stood up and left right then. That I went home and never gave this Marshall guy a second thought. But that's not what happened.

You see, there was something about him I simply couldn't bear to leave. Something in his voice, his appearance, made me want to be closer. Much, much closer.

The desire was so great, in fact, that like an idiot with a sudden burst of confidence I said, "I'm a bit older than I look too," total lie, "so do you want to get out of here?"

He smirked. "Oh, I like you." I hadn't realized he was still holding onto my hand until he hauled me to my feet, and then he just stood still.

"Aren't we-," I started to say.

"Hang on, it takes a second," he said.

And then, I shit you not, he snapped his fingers and we were suddenly in a different place. A bedroom, it seemed. A normal one. Not like you'd expect from the Devil (if you haven't guessed that's who this guy is by now, then I don't know how you can read at all). It had laminate wood floors, a queen sized bed with a purple quilt, whitewashed textured walls, and a desk in the corner. It looked like, well, a teenager's bedroom.

"What the-,"

"It's a bit drab for the Devil's bedchambers," he said, "but I grew tired of the torches and red velvet walls a while ago. So I just adapt to the times."

"What the fuck?!" It felt good to finish that sentence.

He glanced down at me. "Oh yeah, I forgot about mentioning that part. I'm the Devil. Demon extraordinaire. Don't worry, I'm not going to kill you or infect your mind and dreams or anything like that. I brought you here for sex. That's all. Honestly, I've gotten such a bad rap over the years from some of the women I've had. Spreading all these lies about me because I wouldn't let them stay. You're not going to do that though, right?"

What the actual fuck.

"Look man," I said. "I had one beer, and I don't know how you slipped something into it. But if you don't take me home right now I will rip you in fucking half." I was breathing heavy, staring him down. He didn't even look phased.

"Oh I see. You're a skeptic." His tone was bored. "Look if I'd drugged you, you wouldn't even be standing up right now, let alone be in the presence of mind to tell me off. Alright, here." He snapped his fingers again, and the lights cut out suddenly. When they cut back on, he snapped them one more time, and he floated a couple inches off the ground. When his feet were on the floor again, I did the stupidest thing anyone has ever done ever. But don't worry. It worked out pretty well for me.

First, I said, "So I'm just here for sex, right?"

He nodded.

And then I kissed the fucking Devil.

Hard.

And strike me down if I ever say it didn't feel damn good.

He smirked into it, and when I broke for air, he mumbled, "Now we're talking."

I kissed him again, and his hands wondered to my ass. He lifted me up, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. He backed me up to the bed and laid me down as his tongue found its way into my mouth. We fought for dominance, and surprisingly enough, I won. He ripped my shirt off. Literally ripped the damn thing in half. I broke the kiss and glared up at him, and he responded with a cheeky little grin and said, "No bra. My kind of girl. Those damn things piss me off." Then he dove his head down to my neck. His hands ran over my chest, his thumbs rubbed circles over my nipples. He kissed and licked at bit my neck and holy shit. I've never been one to moan, but I sure did then. I tugged at his shirt. And he broke away to take it off. I took the lapse in contact to take of my skirt and panties, so I could be completely naked.

I reached up and unbuttoned his jeans. I yanked them down, and he kicked them the rest of the way off. And then everything was just skin. I didn't even get a good look at him before he was back on top of me, his lips working their way down my body. Remember how I said he was cold before? He wasn't now. The longer I was with him, the more he was heating up, until he was almost unbearably hot. His lips finally reached the apex of my legs. He parted my folds, and licked that little bundle of nerves, he worked his tongue in circles, slowly. I bucked my hips up into him, and he slowly pushed a finger inside me. Then another, and another.

"You taste good," he mumbled. The vibrations made me feel like I was one fire. Hell, if I was on fire, I felt so good I probably wouldn't have cared. All I could reply with was a string of mutters that were more moans than words.

Then suddenly, he pulled away. He looked at me, expectantly. I didn't get it for a second, then I rolled my eyes and said, "Let me guess, eye for an eye? That's how you operate?"

"If that's how you want to think about it."

I smiled. "If the roles reversed, I'd preach it that way."

I sighed a little, and bent down. I took his already hard length in my hand, and placed the tip just past my lips. I sucked lightly, and swirled my tongue. I heard him groan above me. I pushed more of him past my lips, sucking and bobbing my head. He tangled his fingers into my hair, encouraging me to quicken my pace. So I continued like that, sucking and bobbing. When he was practically vibrating in my mouth, he suddenly pulled away, then, in a blink, had me pinned beneath him.

He didn't really ask if I was ready or anything. And I kind of don't care.

He slammed himself inside of me. And the little sparks of pleasure I had been feeling before turned into an inferno. He wasted no time pulling away and burying himself in me again, and again, and again. He kept his head in the crook of my neck, kissing it again. My hands found their way to his back, and my nails were digging in. He didn't seem to mind. In fact he moaned every time I scratched him particularly hard. I wrapped my legs around him, not bothering to reign in the steady stream of curse words flowing from my mouth.

It was so good, I tell you. So fucking good.

The pleasure climbed higher and higher. I swear I was burning alive in the most wonderful way possible. Finally, I threw my head back and screamed as I came, "M-marshALL!" He followed shortly after, letting out a low growl.

That growl was sexy as fuck.

He picked me up and flipped us over, so I was laying on his chest. He waited for me go catch my breath, letting his hands trail patterns on my back.

"Shit, Fionna," he said. "I'm usually a one time kind of guy. But we're going to have to do this again sometime."

I smirked, "Alright, how about right now."

"They'll wonder where you are if I keep you too long," he said.

I sighed. "Damn. Friday, then?"

"Sounds good."

Anyway, PB, that's why I haven't been coming to our study sessions. Fridays turned into Thursdays and Fridays turned into every day. So... Sorry?

... 'You're full of shit Fionna. It's not that hard to just say you're lazy dude."

It's totally true!

'Sure it is. Just tell your fictional devilish sex toy that you can't bomb another Algebra test, and that you need to make it to next week's meet up.'

But I-... Fine. Whatever.