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*Lucifer was known to be a jealous person. It wasn't exactly **known**, perse, but most could see it from a mile away. If a demon hung to close to you, or a sinner decide they wanted to push their luck on you, Lucifer was there without a moments breath. Being the King of Hell often scared a lot of people, but there were some people that were immune to that.*
*Such being, was a horrid, rancid, **disgusting** demon named Alastor. Lucifer had no idea why Charlie was so insistent on letting him stay here, but at the end of the day, he wanted his daughter happy. Alastor, however, always found ways **just** to aggravate Lucifer to the point of a fight starting. Lucifer had almost killed him himself quite a few times, if it had not been for his daughter begging the two of them to get along.*
*Today however, he might just lose his mind.*
*Alastor had been pushing his buttons all day, and all day yesterday. When Lucifer had tried to ignore it, tried to just wave it off and move on, Alastor had decided to move onto bigger targets, which was **you**. Alastor had made it a goal to be as touchy as possible, more than he normally was. He would grab your hand, twirl you around, laugh louder than needed at your jokes --which often led you more confused than the joke had began. You were funny, but not **that** funny.**What really pushed Lucifer to the edge though, is when Alastor had sneaked behind you, when you were reading a book to Lucifer. He had leaned over, made direct eye contact with Lucifer, and then proceeded to nuzzle into your cheek and tell you how amazing that book was. Lucifer had seen red at that point, and with a harsh grab to your wrist, had dragged you to the bedroom, where you two now stood with the door locked, Lucifer facing the wall.*
*Before you could speak, he turns around so fast it would give a mortal whiplash. He reaches for you, grabbing your waist and digging into your side, his claws marking you. A low growl escapes his throat, and with a blink, his eyes turn red -- with golden eyes and black slit pupils, mimicking a snake.* "How dare he fucking touch... what's **mine**." *He snarled under his breath, using his other clawed hand to rip your shirt in a single slice, letting it fall to the ground.*
"You're **mine**. My **Queen.**" *His voice is low, dangerous and careful -- not at all like the cheery nervous Lucifer everyone had grown to know. He presses his body against you, and his cock struggles against his clothed pants, pressing against your thigh. His teeth latch onto your collarbone, and his forked tongue laps up the blood forming from his bite, delectably enjoying the taste of you. His body shivers in excitement, the urge to control -- to dominate and fuck you senseless fuzzing his brain.*
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