Warning - Lucifer, the Devil is Billions of years old. 

Hermione with multiple personalities, her character's real age during sexual intercourse is 18+

(Hermione - Blessed by Amenadiel, time works differently for her, she has already surpassed age of 18+)

____________

'Bugger. Bugger. Bugger.'

Hermione stared at the handle of Lucifer’s dorm room with a grimace.

It had become her new nemesis. The accusatory knotted wood mocked her now (and for the past twenty minutes) as she scrounged up the courage to open.

'Just do it, Hermione. Gryffindors are supposed to be brave. Why can’t I just bloody open it already?!'

With one final deep breath, she moved her wand in preparation.

A loud metallic clunk made her jump, and the door flew open, revealing the pale features of the boy she’d been fantasizing about for the past months.

Horrified at being found out, the bushy-haired girl could only stand there with her fist clutching her wand hanging in midair, gaping up at him.

Lucifer's black eyes narrowed at her ridiculous expression. “Hermione, are you going to dance around out here all night?” Turning on his heel, he stalked back to his study desk, near the bed.

Hermione felt as if she’d been Stupefied. 'Brilliant' she thought.

Of course, he would know I will visit at this time...

Glad that’s out of the way. 'Soooo much easier to have a chat with someone, who knows you can’t even open their door!'

Putting her wand back in her robes, Hermione edged into the room and closed the door behind her, sealing her own doom.

He sat, still as a statue, watching her entrance from his chair, “Sit down” Lucifer growled, not even caring about the loud tone.

It had become a ritual for him to use the Silence charm around the bed, before going to sleep.

For two very obvious reasons, painful snoring of his room mates, and other Hermione's loud noises.

The same bed, with a wooden headrest, Hermione had spent many hours on at night, eliminating her daily starving, just like being fed, beckoning her with images of all her previous encounters.

Face burning at the perverted memories, Hermione sat across from his chair.

Now that she was in his presence, all her fantasies and plans vanished.

This wasn’t at all what she’d rehearsed. Eyes darting around the room, Hermione avoided his sharp gaze.

“As you well know, I do not enjoy one-sided conversations, Hermione. What's the reason for just standing outside? Not saying anything,” Lucifer added with a sardonic sneer.

'How am I supposed to talk with him staring at me like that?'

Lucifer studied her anxious discomfort over his crossed fingers.

He knew why she was there. It was written all over her face like a headline on the front page of The Daily Prophet.

Her furtive staring at his dick, just being in a daze, or even if she did put it inside her mouth, but not sucking
had greatly entertained Lucifer over the past few weeks.

It amused him to see her blush and bury her face inside his crotch every time he met her roving eye.

It was so easy to slip into her thoughts, catch a glimpse of her fantasies and sexual frustration.

The silence stretched endlessly as Hermione struggled to make her voice work.

Although her mouth opened and closed, no sound came out.

Her fingers picked and pulled at the edge of her skirt, the sign language of the mutely nervous.

“Say what you’re here to say or get out,” he snapped, knowing otherwise Hermione would just let the time go by.

“I’m trying!” she shot back.

His gaze darkened.

Slapping her hand over her mouth, her eyes went wide, astonished by her own impudence. “I’m sorry, sir.”

“Mind your tone with me, Granger,” Lucifer's voice turned dangerously cold, “Or I’ll have to teach you another lesson.”

Sweet Circe. Her pussy spasmed at his threat, and Hermione pressed her thighs together, trying to smother the heat. “Yes, sir. That’s . . . um . . . sort of . . . why I’m here.”

One bored black eyebrow quirked in response.

Her mouth went preternaturally dry.

She had to peel her tongue from the roof of her mouth to get the sound going again. “I was hoping you could, um, expand on our previous . . . lesson.” Hermione glanced at him cautiously, attempting to read his face.

“That's not the main issue, and you know it?” Lucifer drawled, his eyes now sparking, “If you want to be fingered, you just have to ask me....So, what's the reason for you being nervous?”

Her face reddened, and Hermione stammered out an inaudible response.

“What was that? You’ll have to speak up, Hermione”

She sighed. “I tried asking you. But, I just know, you won't really take me seriously.”

Holding back a bark of laughter, Lucifer affected a tone of innocent curiosity. “Why don't you tell me, your  desire first? I'll make the choice later?”

He watched her face go from pink to crimson, and then her eyes dropped to the floor again.

'Bloody hell, is it really that?' Despite his shock, Lucifer had to hand it to her—she was one ballsy Gryffindor.

“What is it you want from me exactly?” He asked, folding his arms over his chest.

Her usual confidence evaporated, reducing her to a quaking, inarticulate child.

When Hermione spoke, her voice sounded shaky, her normal assured inflection massacred by her nerves.

“Would you, please . . . spank me again? And . . . um,” Hermione paused, scared to say it out loud, “agree to be my boyfriend...and do that.”

Lucifer remained quiet for so long she thought maybe he hadn’t heard her.

Chancing a glance, their eyes met, and her stomach clenched at his unwavering stare.

“You don’t really want that, Hermione,” he said softly.

But, the said girl, just held his gaze to prove her sincerity. “I do. I’ve thought about going further a lot. According to Professor McGonagall, it will hurt no matter what....”

“....Even if this is a confession...Most girls prefer to d-”

She slumped her back into the headrest, looking tired and suddenly older than what Lucifer previously assumed her off.... 

Sexually frustrated woman in her age of 30s....

With a wry smile, Hermione shook her head. “I’m not most girls.”

Stroking his lip thoughtfully, Lucifer let another chasm of silence engulf the room before answering. “I’ll . . . consider your request, Hermione.”

Relief flooded her face.

“But for now I don’t need your maidenhead to take my pleasure from you. Come over here.” Hermione looked ludicrously happy as she moved her body, for standing next to him.

Lucifer's hand waved in the direction of the desk. “Bend over.”

'I can’t believe this is happening!'

Her heart felt skittish and wild, pounding behind her breastbone.

Hermione had to swallow hard to keep her stomach from jumping out of her throat.

With a detached flick of his palm, Lucifer warded his bed even more, curtains are up, and the door to the hallway.

He didn’t want any interruptions.

Flipping up her pleated skirt, he smirked at her lacy, red knickers. “I preferred the black ones.”

Hermione smiled to herself. “You took my only pair, sir.”

A small grin curled one side of his mouth.

Hermione could feel his eyes on her.

Waiting, knowing he was looking, made her skin prickle with goosebumps.

Warm hands touched her hips, and she felt her knickers being dragged down, exposing her soaked slit to the cool window air.

'How can I be so wet already?' Lucifer hasn’t even touched me yet!'

Her panties dropped to her feet.

“Step out of them.”

Her movements were awkward, making it obvious, she was trying to hide her arousal.

But, Lucifer was onto her game.

“Spread your legs.”

___________

Author's Note

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