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featjunranghae · 2 months ago

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me and the devil

🌙 starring. Johnny Suh x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “I can be your manager. It’s something I have experience in. But we’d need to form a contract, and it’s not the type of contract most singers agree to.” Johnny takes a breath. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I’m the Devil, honey, and if it’s fame that you want, you’re going to have to make a deal with the Devil.”

tw/cw. Unprotected consensual sex, slight monsterfucking themes (Johnny has a big forked tongue), monster/big cock Johnny, pussy eating, breast worship, multiple reader orgasms, small vs large kink, soft dom devil John, dirty talk, praise, etc… I pet names: (hers). Honey, songbird.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 6.9k

🍭 aus. devil!Johnny, singer!reader, supernatural au, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. This fic is inspired by the songs Me And The Devil by Soap&Skin and The Devil Wears A Suit And Tie by Colter Wall, it also loosely draws inspiration from the TV shows Yellowstone, Landman and Supernatural.

Prologue:

You love the warmth of midnight in small desert towns. The bar doors are open, and a breeze that’s beginning to cool is flowing through the space. For a Friday night, this isn’t the best turnout, but you don’t let that affect you as you sit on a stool on stage, a guitar in your hand and a microphone near your lips.

Wanderers always seem to tumble in from the street, seduced by the sound of your voice, and motion by the front door of the bar draws your gaze.

This stranger doesn’t look like the others.

While the patrons here are all cowboys, Hands, and small-town folk, the man in the doorway of the bar looks entirely big city.

He’s adorned in a dark suit, his hair slicked back meticulously. Even from a distance, you can see the striking angles of his cheekbones and the fullness of his lips.

The stranger approaches the bar, his eyes fixed on you even as he orders a drink.

It’s hard to focus, your heart racing at the sight of this beautiful newcomer, but you carry on.

You’ve not made a name for yourself yet, and these small gigs matter. You drive in your van from town to town, making the money you need to survive by doing what you love most: singing.

The songs are all originals, and they come from your heart; you think it’s one of the reasons people seem bewitched by your music, although you know these lonely cowboys are enthralled for other reasons, too.

When your set finishes, you get off the stage. A number of the more drunken and boisterous patrons of the establishment stop you to chat as you walk by, and by the time you make it to the bartop, the mysterious stranger is gone.

“Good set,” the bartender tells you, sliding a drink your way. “The man in the suit left this for you.”

“Thanks.” As you look down to grab the glass, you realize there’s a hundred-dollar bill under the cup.

“Left that for you, too,” the bartender explains. “Told me if I pocketed it, he’d know.”

He says it in a joking tone, but there’s something laced under his words, an understanding that the suited stranger who had been watching you is not someone to trifle with.

A feeling of dejection bubbles through you that the gorgeous man had left before you’d had a chance to talk to him. Something inside of you - call it intuition, or your dreamer’s heart - tells you that it’s important you introduce yourself to the stranger, and now, you might never get that chance.

One:

This is now the fourth time the big city stranger has come to one of your sets in two months, and it’s the third town, too. Your heart is racing, your mind spinning at the notion that he’s following you, following your career perhaps?

Every time he comes to a show, he leaves you money with the bartender, then slips out before you can catch him, but tonight, you’re about to change that.

The moment your set is over, you practically bolt off the stage, a flurry of apologies leaving your lips as you brush past people who want to talk to you.

By the time you make it to the bartop, the man is gone, so you turn your sights on the door leading to the street.

It might be a bad idea to chase this potential stalker out into the night, but you’re not thinking about that as you dart after him.

The stranger isn’t hard to find, however. He’s standing next to a mint-condition old muscle car, it’s fully black, and although you’d half expected him to own a Lamborghini or a Mercedes, there’s something timeless about the old Ford Mustang that suits him.

He’s lighting up a cigarette, and he turns to you as if he expected you to be standing there.

“Hi,” you say, approaching him.

“Hi.”

You watch the way he exhales, smoke billowing out around him- it must be a trick of the light because for a moment, his obscured shadow on the pavement looks larger and more menacing.

“You’ve been to a lot of my shows,” you blurt out, not quite sure how else to start the conversation.

“I like your voice,” the man nods.

“I’m Y/N,” you tell him.

“Johnny.”

You take a breath, trying to figure out where to go from here.

Luckily, you don’t have to speak next, because Johnny does. “Why do you sing at these dive bars in shit small towns when you have the voice for stadiums?”

“Uh-” His question takes you back. “I mean, I don’t really have a manager, and booking things is rough these days without an online following-” You can feel yourself floundering with your answer, and his fixed gaze on you only makes matters worse. “I guess I’m just not great at this.”

“You’re a singer. It’s not your job to be a manager too.”

“I suppose that’s true.”

He takes another long drag of his cigarette. “Do you want to be famous?”

You think about the question for a moment. “Doesn’t every singer want to be heard by millions across the globe?”

Johnny shrugs. “People have… longings for grandeur, but not many have the talent to achieve it.”

“Do you think I have the talent to be famous?” you ask, suddenly feeling quite small and childlike as you look up at this beautiful man.

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

A smile works its way onto your lips, and you let out a sigh of relief. “Guess I have to find a manager.”

“That’s one route.”

“Is there another?”

Johnny stares at you for a moment, and you get the sense that when he looks at you, he really looks at you. It’s as if this stranger can stare into your soul, but then again, as a singer, you always strive to bare your innermost self, so it’s a sensation you can appreciate.

“Can I be honest with you?” he asks.

“Of course.”

Another drag from his cigarette, which is now at its end. You watch him flick the butt, discarding it carelessly onto the worn small town pavement. “I can be your manager. It’s something I have experience in. But we’d need to form a contract, and it’s not the type of contract most singers agree to.” Johnny takes a breath. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I’m the Devil, honey, and if it’s fame that you want, you’re going to have to make a deal with the Devil.”

You look up at him, trying to process his words. “You’re the Devil?”

“Come, I’ll show you.” Johnny holds out a hand, and against your better judgment, you take it. With one quick adjustment, he has your back to his chest. The two of you are angled so the streetlight casts a shadow in front of you.

Your outline is dwarfed by Johnny’s, and right there on the street, emphasized by the contrast of dark and light, you see two horns sprouting out of his head. His hands are still on your shoulders, so there’s no logical way for him to be doing this by some trickery of the light and shadow-

You practically jump, whipping around to look at the stranger, the Devil- who looks just as ordinary as he had a moment ago.

“Believe me now?” he grins.

“I-” You swallow thickly. “I’m not sure.”

“You don’t have to be sure. You just have to think about it.”

“But… If I say yes, what do I give you in return?” you ask.

“Your soul, but don’t be scared, when I collect and you join me in Hell, you’ll be my personal songbird, probably the best position out there for a human in my realm, if I’m being honest with you.”

“And… If you’re the Devil, don’t you have work to do? Aren’t you busy? Why are you wasting your time trying to make a contract with me when there are bigger fish to go after?”

“I’ve got minions, honey,” Johnny grins. “These days, I never get my hands dirty. I live a charmed life, for a Devil.”

You gawk at him, mind void of anything else to say.

“I’ll give you my card, and you can think about it,” Johnny tells you simply.

With a snap of his fingers and a tiny, spontaneous flame, a black card appears between his thumb and pointer. He hands it to you, flashes you a wink, then walks around his car to get in the driver’s seat.

The engine roars to life, and you stand in shock - and maybe something a little like awe - as the Devil races away.

It’s not until Johnny’s gone that you look down at the card he left you and realize it’s not a phone number at all, it’s a location.

Johnny’s instructions are clear: if you want to make a deal with him, you’ll have to meet at the crossroads by Route 127.

Two:

Your skin is prickling as you get out of your car. The side of the road is all gravel, and the crunching of your footsteps seems exceptionally loud in the eerie quiet of the night.

There’s no one around, but with a deep breath for courage, you approach the junction, standing in the middle of the crossroads.

“So you’re here to make a deal.”

The voice comes from behind you, and you whip around to find the Devil standing there. It’s as if he’s appeared out of thin air, and your heart jumps at the sight of him.

He’s just so handsome, and the suit he always wears only exacerbates the allure.

You take a breath to steady yourself. “Why here? Why a crossroads?” you ask.

Johnny shrugs. “There’s something reminiscent of the old days when it comes to crossroads. You know, the roaring twenties, singers showing up at a crossroad to make all of their dreams come true.” Johnny steps closer as he speaks, and you can feel his breath along your collar as he leans closer, inspecting you.

“Did you make a lot of contracts with singers back in the day?” you enquire.

“All the greats were my doing,” Johnny muses, stepping back again. “Some were better at contracts than others. I suppose I was more lenient back in the day. If someone was truly great, I’d sometimes let them continue longer.”

“And is that what you’re going to do for me?” you ask. “Be lenient?”

“You’d wish for that, wouldn’t you, my little songbird?” Johnny smirks. “No, for you, I give twenty years, and that’s final.”

Your heart clenches at his words. Twenty years of stardom, then The Devil himself would come to collect your soul.

“So how would this work?” you ask, not wanting to rush into anything.

“I’d be with you every step of the way,” Johnny assures you. “Guiding you, opening doors. Anything you want, if it’s in my power to give it to you, would be yours.”

“You personally? Not a minion?”

Johnny shrugs. “Usually, I’d send a jockey, but there’s something about you. I heard your voice from Hell itself, and that’s not a metaphor. You have something special, and I want to be the one who watches it grow.”

You consider his words, and you can’t help the way they boost your ego.

“I would have been happy just watching you forever, you know,” Johnny muses. “But you approached me, and fuck it, an opportunity for a deal is an opportunity.”

“So let me get this straight. I make this deal with you, you make me famous, you make all of my dreams come true, but in twenty years, you take my soul down to Hell, and I spend eternity with you?”

“It’s a pretty good deal, if you ask me.” The Devil grins, and you hate how handsome this powerful being is, how charming.

Your heart is racing now, and you’re aware that you’re about to practically jump off a cliff with this whole thing- is twenty years of fame on Earth really worth an eternity in Hell?

“Fuck it,” you breathe. “Let’s do it.”

With the snap of his fingers, Johnny has a contract in his hand, and he holds it out to you.

“Do you have a pen?” you ask.

“It won’t need a pen, just a drop of blood,” he explains. He gently grabs your wrist, tugging you closer. A needle appears in his hand, and with the tiniest prick on your pointer finger, a drop of blood appears. “If you would be so kind as to do the honours, my little songbird.”

Without another thought, you press your digit to the paper, your blood marking the contract.

There’s no turning back now, and yet, something like relief floods over you.

“One last thing,” Johnny said, snapping the paper out of existence again. “For a deal like this, it’s best sealed with a kiss.”

“What?” The word comes out as a squeak, and you blink at the gorgeous Devil.

“A kiss,” Johnny grins.

“Is that necessary?”

“Let’s just say it is.”

You sigh. “You’re pushing your luck here, mister Devil.”

“That’s just the kind of man I am.”

Johnny reaches for your hand, and you let him pull you to his chest. You look up at this beautiful, demonic entity, and you know you’re in deep.

Twenty years with this man, guiding you, taking care of you-

Fuck it.

You move forward, cupping his face as you press your lips to his own.

Johnny’s grip on you tightens, pulling you flush to his chest as his mouth eagerly works against your own.

Your whole body is on fire from the sensation, and when he finally pulls back, it’s the most you can do to blink up at him in a daze.

That had been, without a doubt, the best kiss of your life, and now, you simply want more.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Johnny grins. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And with that, the Devil vanishes, leaving you at the crossroads, your heart nearly beating out of your chest.

Three:

You can’t believe you’re here.

It’s only been two weeks, and Johnny has somehow already gotten you an audition as one of three openers for a pretty well-known band.

“How did you even swing this?” you ask, heart practically in your throat as you and Johnny wait for your turn to audition.

“I’m the Devil, remember?” He winks at you, reaching out to place a protective palm on your shoulder. “If I’m being honest, I could have gotten you an even bigger audition, for an even bigger group, but I figured baby steps would work best for you.”

“If this is a baby step-” you let out a whistle. “So is this a guaranteed thing? What are you going to do, smite my competition or something?”

Johnny lets out a loud laugh.

“Honey, if your voice could bewitch the Devil himself into making the trek up to Earth to personally take you on as a contract, this whole thing will be a piece of cake. It’s a formality, honestly,” he assures you. “You land this audition, you go with them on tour, you make a name for yourself, we pop out a number one hit for the summer, a great music video, and by next year, you could be on your own tour.”

“You’ve got this all planned out, huh?”

“I’m contractually obligated to,” Johnny teases. “What would be the point of a twenty-year deal if you spent a quarter of it just trying to get on top? I’m going to launch your career, honey, and it all starts here.”

Four:

You’re practically glowing, and it makes something stir in Johnny’s cold, dead heart.

Tonight was the first night of the tour, and your opening set had blown the whole audience away.

In Johnny’s not-so-humble opinion, it had been clear to a lot of people that you have more talent in your little finger than the headliners do in their whole bodies, but alas, schematics, schematics.

Johnny will have you on your own tour in a year, of that, he’s certain.

God, so many plans, swirling around in his ancient brain.

He wants to give you the world, and he could have done it already- but he knows you’re a fragile human, and he wants to give you time to adjust, too. He doesn’t want to break you, not so soon into your career.

He’s done it before, helped a struggling artist, shoved them into the limelight- then addiction had descended, and all hopes of glory had dwindled, drained from the artist the way they drained bottles every night.

No, Johnny wants to keep your purity intact; he wants to grow your strength, your confidence, until you’re able to take on the world, the way he knows you can.

To celebrate your great victory, Johnny takes you to a bar, and he can see the energy still surging through you as you have your first cocktail.

“That was insane!” you tell him, practically buzzing.

“You were amazing, honey, I knew you could do it,” he smiles, loving the feeling of your light as it glows around him. He hasn’t been around someone with an aura like yours in many, many years, and having been in the dark for so long makes him crave your light in a way he’s never craved anything.

“I want to dance!” you exclaim suddenly. “Come dance with me!”

He can’t refuse you as you grab his hand and lead him to the floor. Johnny’s generally not one to partake in human things like dancing; he often feels it’s beneath him, but tonight, for you, he’ll give in.

You’re already moving, swaying your hips and grinning as the music seems to consume you.

It’s one of the things he loves most about you, the way you clearly feel music- to get lost in sound, it’s a gift, one he’s only ever felt when he listens to you.

Johnny could do without the loud pop music blasting through the club right now, but again, for you, he’ll acquiesce.

Then, you shift closer, throwing your arms over his shoulders to tug him closer, and it makes Johnny’s skin tingle.

He can’t help the attraction he has toward you, which is saying a lot, since he generally hates humans.

Johnny’s hands find your hips, and the way you’re swaying now is practically bewitching him.

Your smile lights up your whole face, and it brings a sense of pride to Johnny, pride in knowing he’s the mastermind behind your newfound happiness. This isn’t just a contract to him, he knows that now, and part of him doesn’t mind that he has a personal investment in this.

It’s only two and a half months into your contract, but Johnny would be lying if he said he didn’t spend most of that time thinking about kissing you.

And right now, your lips are looking like perfection.

He must have gazed too long, because you wrap your hand around the back of his neck, leaning closer-

Johnny shouldn’t be doing this. He of all demons should know that getting involved with a contract is not a good idea- but as the King of Hell, who else can break the rules if not him?

Johnny gives in, he closes the gap, and you release a sigh as you mold against him, your body flush to his own.

His arms wrap around you, holding you tight as the kiss deepens, his tongue swiping against your lip before you open your mouth for him.

Now it’s Johnny’s turn to release a groan, his hand slipping down to grab your ass before he can even help himself.

Johnny prides himself on being a man of composure, but you’re making him come unraveled, unlike anyone has in hundreds of years.

It takes all of Johnny’s power to pull away from you, and he gazes down at your starstruck eyes. “We should get you back to the hotel,” he warns. “We’ve got an early flight.”

He sees the dejected expression that makes its way across your face, but you sigh, nodding.

You’re a good little songbird, and you already listen to everything Johnny says.

He loves how submissive you are, and he takes your hand, leading you out of the bar.

Five:

To your surprise, when Johnny had taken you back to the hotel, he’d dropped you off at your room and then gone his separate way.

Part of you had really thought tonight would lead to more for you, but Johnny is ever the controlled man you know him to be.

If only you had self-control like he does.

It’s two am, and you can’t sleep. You can’t get the thought of him out of your head.

It’s become something like an obsession, and your attraction to the Devil has only grown as you’ve spent more and more time with him.

You would have thought the Devil would be meaner, but he’s not. Johnny’s the best mentor you could have hoped for, opening every door that needs opening and supporting you in the most genuine way you’ve ever experienced.

With a groan, you stand up, slipping on your little slippers.

His room is next to yours, and your heart is racing as you step out into the hotel hallway.

Two quiet knocks and a moment later, Johnny appears at his door.

He’s still in a suit, like he always is, and part of you had hoped to catch him in perhaps a more vulnerable moment- but you should have known, this is the Devil, and he must always be on guard.

“No rest for the wicked, huh?” you say, trying to make a joke to lighten the mood.

“No rest for songbirds either, it would seem.” He flashes you a smile, and you relax instantly.

“Can I come in?”

Johnny pushes the door wider, and you step into his room.

It’s larger than your room, and the decor is completely different, all dark and marbled-

“In case you’re wondering, the door is a portal,” Johnny muses. “I prefer my own room to anything a hotel would have; the bed is much nicer, too.”

“Sometimes I forget you’re the literal Devil and have weird supernatural powers,” you laugh, still taking in the space. “So… is this like, your bedroom in your Hell palace?”

“I guess you could say that.” Johnny closes the door behind you, leaning back against it.

“It’s nice, actually.”

“Then don’t go close to the windows, and keep it that way.”

Your eyes shift to the glass wall in question. You can tell this room is high above the wasteland landscape, and even from this distance, you can see flickering lights that can only really be Hell fires.

A shiver runs through you, and you turn your back to the windows.

“So what do you need, songbird?” Johnny asks.

“I think you know what I need.”

The Devil grins. “I’d like to hear you say it.”

You take a deep breath, wrapping your arms around your pajama-clad body. “I need you.”

“You have me, it’s in our contract.”

You roll your eyes. “You know what I mean, Johnny.”

He stares at you for a moment. “If we slept together, wouldn’t this be an unfair power dynamic? I know how ‘woke’ you humans are nowadays. Think of it, you, a new singer, sleeping with her manager who also happens to be the Devil… what would the tabloids say?”

He’s making a joke out of it, but you appreciate that he’s even broached the subject of there being a power imbalance between the two of you. Because he’s right, the contract - and the fact that he’s the Devil - are major obstacles, not to mention, you don’t have a clue how much Johnny actually feels for you.

“If there had been a clause in our contract that by accepting, it would mean we could never be more than manager and client, I maybe wouldn’t have signed it,” you state.

Johnny lets out a loud laugh. “There was no such clause, I’m only preparing you for ramifications. I’m the Devil, honey, and regardless of what happens to us, I’ve agreed to be in your life for the next twenty years. For me, that’s just a blip, but for you, that’s a quarter of a lifetime, and I know how attached you humans can get.”

“Twenty years might be a blip, but I also agreed to an eternity as your songbird, so let’s face it, you’re stuck with me now,” you point out.

“I suppose I am.”

“And something tells me you’re getting attached, too. Something tells me I’m not the only one starting to feel something.”

“What makes you say that?”

“The way you treat me, with such care and compassion,” you point out. “You said it yourself, you could have given me to a minion to handle, but you didn’t. You offered up your time, which is valuable, so there must have been a deeper reason for that.”

Johnny looks you up and down. “Maybe my poker face isn’t as good as it used to be.”

“Maybe not, but that doesn’t have to be a bad thing.”

“If we do this, I might not be able to control myself around you,” Johnny warns.

“I’d like to see that actually, you know… you, losing control.”

“Do you think you could handle it?”

“You won’t hurt me. I know you won’t.”

“Sometimes I think you forget that I’m the Devil,” Johnny muses, stepping closer to you.

“You might be the Devil, but you’re my Devil, it’s in the contract.”

Johnny doesn’t say anything else; he simply grabs your hips, tugging you to his chest.

You stare up at him, adoring the soft brown shade of his eyes and the way his lips look so full and kissable.

You can’t help yourself anymore; you close the distance, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to draw his mouth to yours.

There’s no need for waiting now, no need to hold back, so you throw yourself into the kiss. You part your lips, giving the Devil entry as he deepens things. His hand presses tighter to the small of your back, and between the pressure and the sensation of his lips, you find yourself at a loss for breath very quickly.

A moan slips out of you, and Johnny grins, then in one easy motion, he lifts you off the ground.

Your legs wrap around his hips, and he guides you toward the massive king-sized bed in the middle of the room. He sets you down on it, his mouth never leaving yours, and you welcome this change of position.

Johnny now has the opportunity to grind down against you, and he takes it, applying pressure to your core that has you whimpering even louder.

His lips move to your throat, teasing and licking, as if he’s claiming you.

Regardless of anything else in your life, your body, and Hell, your soul- they belong to Johnny, and something tells you that the Devil belongs to you too, for more than just the twenty-year contract.

His mouth continues to move down, and his hand grabs at the front of your button-up silk sleeping shirt. With one rough tug, he tears the fabric open, revealing your bare breasts to him. Your nipples are pebbled from the stimulus of his kiss, and from the way he groans at the sight of you, you know he’s enjoying himself as well.

Johnny immediately draws his mouth to your chest, sucking a nipple into his mouth while he fondles the other with his hand.

It feels delightful to be worshiped this way, and you toss your head back against the bed, closing your eyes to bask in the sensation.

You smooth your fingers through his hair, not tugging, just encouraging. All the while, you can feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, your core practically throbbing already.

Then… Johnny begins to descend again, and your breath catches as he hooks his fingers in your sleeping shorts, slowly tugging them down your legs.

Johnny is still fully clothed in his suit and tie, yet you’re practically naked. There’s something so interesting about this dynamic, about the fact that the Devil seems to be more of a selfless lover.

You wonder if it’s something to do with him claiming you. Maybe he gets off on the knowledge that he’s still completely put together while you’re aching and desperate, naked and vulnerable for him.

The whole thing turns you on, and when Johnny sinks to his knees next to the bed, tugging you closer, you swear you must be in Heaven right now, not Hell.

Being with Johnny could never be Hell, and when his mouth makes contact with your pussy, everything else drifts away from your mind.

He’s gentle at first, licking your slit before circling your clit with his tongue. You can feel his eyes on you, and you whimper a sound of affirmation, shifting on the bed in an effort to get closer to him.

A chuckle escapes Johnny’s lips, and then he dives in fully.

He no longer holds anything back, and you cry out from the sensation of him eating you like a last meal.

Then you feel something interesting, he’s licking your clit, but the feeling is diferent-

You open your eyes and sit up a little, looking down at him. Johnny reacts to your motion by pulling back a little, and he sticks out his tongue for you, which is when you see it’s forked.

No fucking way.

The Devil has a forked fucking tongue, and it feels so fucking good as he goes back to licking your clit, stimulating you in every possible way-

You’ve heard about alien fucking kinks, about dildos that are all ridged or tentacled- but you’ve never been a ‘monster fucker’ kind of girl yourself-

Maybe that’s changed.

Because the Devil is - in practically every sense - a monster, and now, you’re reaping the rewards of supernatural body parts that are bringing you pleasure you’ve never experienced, never even dreamed of experiencing.

You can feel your orgasm rising quickly, and a tingle begins vibrating throughout your body.

“I’m close,” you warn him, clenching your eyes shut as your muscles start to tense.

Johnny simply growls, and the vibration does wonders for your clit.

Your thighs are beginning to shake, the cord in your abdomen clenching tighter and tighter-

Then Johnny does something you don’t expect, he pushes his tongue into your pussy, lapping at your walls- and fuck, it’s the biggest tongue you’ve ever experienced.

At the same time, he rubs his nose against your clit, providing just the right amount of stimulation in all the right spots.

You cum instantly, your core pulsing around his massive tongue as it continues to lick at you, lapping up everything your body wants to give him.

Your heart is racing, your body going practically numb from the force of your orgasm, and all you can do is scream in pleasure as Johnny works you through your high.

Your whole body is practically shaking when he finally lets up, and you open your eyes to watch the Devil lick his lips with his long, forked tongue.

“You taste like sin,” Johnny muses. “It’s my favourite flavour.”

Something about his words are so cheesy, and you find yourself giggling in your post-orgasmic state.

“You going to fuck me now, mister Devil?” you ask.

“I think I’m contractually obligated to,” Johnny grins.

You laugh. “I agree. So… take off that suit and let me see you.”

Johnny shakes his head at you, standing. At his full height, he towers over you as you lie in his bed.

He begins with his black suit jacket, which he lays on the foot of the bed. Then he moves to his waistcoat. It’s a deep burgundy colour, and it’s very fitting for him, but each button takes what feels like an entire age.

Once the waistcoat is undone, he gently sets it with his suit jacket.

Then, he goes to his cuff links-

“Can’t you just snap your fingers and be naked?” you groan.

“What would be the fun in that?” Johnny chuckles. “I like making you wait.”

“I don’t like it.”

“But you’ll be a patient girl for me, right, honey? A good, patient, little songbird?”

Your skin tingles at his words, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a glutton for praise.

With a sigh, you nod. “I’ll be good and patient for you, sir.”

“Sir?” His eyebrow raises. “I like the sound of that.”

You knew he would. He’s the Devil after all, although you hadn’t expected him to take the soft dom approach, he’s clearly a dom nonetheless, and all dominants like some sort of title.

Johnny doesn’t seem like the ‘Daddy’ sort, at least, not this early into your budding relationship.

Master had felt too overpowering for you, so Sir had fit best.

He begins to unbutton his black dress shirt, and your eyes take in each piece of exposed skin.

You realize he’s tattooed beneath the suits, hidden markings that become more and more visible with each passing moment.

“What do the symbols mean?” you ask, curiosity bubbling within you.

“All sorts of things,” Johnny shrugs, placing his shirt with the rest of his clothes. “Their an ancient demonic language, nothing you’d understand. Protection runes, anti-summoning crests, that sort of thing.”

“So, they’re strategic?”

“Everything about me is strategic, honey.” Johnny’s hands have now moved to his belt, and you swallow thickly as he undoes it.

He’s so well muscled and beefy; the tattoos were unexpected, but they only accentuate the power that radiates off of him.

You’re practically drooling now, heart thundering in your chest.

“I guess you’ve waited long enough,” Johnny grins, and with the snap of his fingers, he’s completely naked.

Your breath catches as you stare at his massive cock.

“How's that going to fit inside of me?” you squeak.

“It will fit,” he assures you.

“I’m glad you’re confident,” you tell him, an anxious laugh escaping you.

Johnny chuckles, shaking his head as he joins you on the bed. You’ve adjusted slightly so your head is on the pillows, giving Johnny the full length of the mattress to maneuver as he slots between your legs.

“I’ll go slow,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your cheekbone before moving to your throat again, where he suckles on your sweet spot. “And you have to give me permission. Demons can’t enter humans without it.”

“You can’t fuck me without consent?” you ask in shock. “How progressive of you.”

Johnny only laughs, rubbing down against your, his massive cock prodding your wet hole and teasing your clit.

“I give you permission to enter me, Devil,” you tease, making him chuckle again.

“And I thank you for the permission.”

Johnny adjusts, reaching between your bodies to grab the base of his cock. He guides the tip to your entrance, rubbing it through your slick to gain some lubricant.

Then, he pushes into you, just an inch, but the stretch is huge. You cry out, latching onto his shoulders as your core tries to adjust.

He’s thrusting slowly, still restricting himself to an inch of penetration as you get used to his size. As always, Johnny’s able to read you, and he seems to know the exact moment you’re ready to take more of him.

This continues for a short time, slow, gentle thrusts, inch after inch, until he’s almost fully buried inside your wet, throbbing core.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking big,” you whimper, digging your nails into his broad shoulders.

“Taking me so well,” he coos, suckling your earlobe into his mouth.

“You can move,” you tell him. “I want to feel you.”

“Whatever you say, honey.”

Johnny brings his lips to yours as he begins to properly fuck you.

He’s slow moving, with each thrust splitting open your pussy, but each thrust helping your body aclimatize to him.

You’re also super turned on, and you can feel yourself practically juicing all over him. The extra lubricant does wonder to the sensation, and soon, nothing but pleasure fills you as Johnny starts to fuck you even harder.

“That’s it,” he groans. “I knew you’d be able to take me.”

“Johnny,” you whimper, kissing him desperately as ecstasy begins to overtake you.

“Squeezing me so fucking tight,” Johnny growls, railing into you with even more power.

God, he’s hitting every spot imaginable, and it feels perfect, like your bodies were always meant to be connected in this way.

“My perfect little songbird,” he coos, lips moving to your ear. “What pretty sounds you make.”

You’re not someone who can always cum from penetration alone, but fuck, nothing in your life has ever felt as good as this does.

Johnny adjusts your thigh, hiking it on your hip, and suddenly he’s going even deeper. It’s like you can feel him in your stomach, and for some reason, it’s not an unpleasant sensation. In fact, it makes your eyes roll back into your head, your lips parting as a desperate whine escapes you.

“My little cock drunk honey,” Johnny grins, fucking you even harder. “I always knew you’d be the best girl for me.”

His words go straight to your core, which is starting to throb around him with your impending orgasm.

“Going to come undone for me already?” he asks.

“Please, I’m so close-”

“You can cum, but I’m not done with you yet.”

“That’s okay, fuck, please just let me cum,” you whimper desperately.

“I’m not stopping you, let go, cum on my cock.”

A few more thrusts send you over the edge, and this time, when your core clamps down on his cock, it excentuates how massive he is. Your body hardly has any room to convulse around him, and the sensation of being this full has your body going into overdrive.

It’s one of the best orgasms of your life, being stuffed to the absolute brim with this Devil’s monster sized cock-

Pure ecstasy is practically vibrating through you, your skin tingling in the most delightful way as waves of euphoria surge through every inch of your body.

“Such pretty sounds,” Johnny groans, fucking you through your high until you’re gasping and clawing at his back. “My turn.”

He pulls out of you and you gasp, only to be manhandled onto your hands and knees.

Johnny presses his tip back into your core, grabbing your hips so he can push fully inside of you in doggy style.

Your thighs shake from the intrusion, heart racing in your chest.

Something about this makes sense- that Johnny would be careful for you, but now that it’s his turn, he wants you in this position. There’s something about doggy that screams ‘I claim you,’ and the wetness dribbling down your inner thighs only solidifies that fact.

He’s not holding anything back now, but you love the roughness of it. You love that he’s using you to find his own release, and you feel blessed in a way that you can be the one who provides it for him.

The sounds escaping him are like magic, and you wonder if this is how he feels every time he hears you.

It’s as if your souls have always sung to each other, but now, you’re singing together, and nothing has ever sounded this pretty, this perfect.

“Fuck,” Johnny groans, and you love how you’re making him come undone like this.

“Please cum in me?” you whimper, arms starting to shake as you try to hold yourself in the position he wants. “I want to feel you so bad.”

Johnny’s grip on your hips tightens, and he pulls you back to meet each hard thrust.

You feel powerless, like a ragdoll, but there’s something so freeing about it.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” you continue to cry, core still like a vice around him.

“Okay, songbird, you want to impress me?” Johnny groans. “Take it, take all of it.”

He pushes all the way into you, and you can feel him explode. You feel him coating your inner walls as he fills you to an impossible level.

Your toes curl from the sensation, your eyes closing, mind focused on the feeling of his throbbing cock burried deep inside of your wet pussy.

“That’s it,” Johnny growls. “So fucking good for me.”

It’s like he cums, and cums, and cums-

Some people have a kink for that sort of thing, and like the monster fucking situation, you never thought you were one of those girls- but fuck, Johnny’s making you realize all sorts of things about yourself tonight.

Finally, he lets out a groan, his grip loosening on your hips. He’s still for a moment, and you both struggle to catch your breath.

“I’m going to draw us a bath,” Johnny tells you with a sigh. “I’ll wash you up, then you need to sleep. We have a flight in the morning.”

“Whatever you say, Sir,” you tease.

A chuckle escapes him. “Twenty years of this. Contract of the millennium.”

You think you’re pretty lucky, too.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I really enjoyed drawing inspo from Hotel California for Seungcheol from svt, so I wanted to do a similar lyric-inspired fic for nct! hope you enjoyed devil!Johnny!

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below!

🔮 preview. You’re the Devil’s songbird, and you were always meant to fulfill this role.

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, supernatural powers for sex, rope bondage, pussy slapping, use of a tailed whip, edging type foreplay, use of toys/vibrator, overstimulation, big/monster cock Johnny, strip tease, dirty talk, praise, multiple reader orgasms, nipple clamps, slight pain kink, breast worship, etc… I petnames. (hers) honey, songbird. (his) Sir.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.1k I teaser wc. 200

🌙 starring. Johnny x afab!Reader

bonus

There’s no sadness as your time runs out. You’ve lived a good Earth life. You’d had a very successful career, and you’d spent all of it with the best man you’ve ever known at your side as your guide and protector.

Now, your life contract is up, and Johnny collects.

It’s odd to be standing over your lifeless body, and Johnny had explained it would look like a heart attack- some mundane death, perhaps a little early for someone of your age, but nothing out of sorts either.

Your lover takes your hand, and the two of you approach the doorway that leads back to his Hell palace.

You’ve come to know this place well over the years, as it’s been a sanctuary for you both for some time now.

Johnny had mentioned something about aging together on Earth, but now that you’re back in his realm, you’re both reduced to how you looked when you’d met.

You turn to Johnny, who is as stunning as he always was in his prime. Sure, aging had brought a silver fox kind of aesthetic to the man, but there’s something sense of completion as you stare at him now.

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