A Convict's Story

Name's Lucifer. And, yeah, I may or may not have gotten in a bit of trouble with the so-called law enforcement on several occasions. Not a big deal, really. They're all corrupt little bastards anyway.

[This is a roleplaying blog for an AU, human and criminal, version of Supernatural's Lucifer.]




connections· headcanons·

The Right One | @searchingformymaster 

searchingformymaster:

stuckinalifeofcrime:

Two weeks. Lucifer had been out for just over two weeks, and he had little to show for it. Granted, he was doing alright for himself, what with not exactly being tossed out on the street anywhere or managing to get arrested again just yet. But the convict was tired of crashing of his friend Az’s place (the apartment really was a dump) and the bit of work he was picking up at his cousin’s construction sites just… wasn’t exactly cutting it. (It gave him some cash, sure, but it wasn’t like the job was just letting Lucifer roll in the dough and retire on some rich island.) 

So a bit of side-dealing helped line his pockets a little more thickly, and he was able to get his bike working again. (Az had at least kept the motorcycle in semi-working condition while he was locked up.)

But what the ex-convict really felt missing was one, single, thing. Something he’d been without for the past several years and he hadn’t even had the luck to find the right one to soothe that particular itch the moment he got it. This town was too small, the women were too pure. None of them were right for the kind of fuck he needed…

Until Lucifer saw her walking down the sidewalk that afternoon. And he just knew it was right.

The summer weather already felt strong, and Lilith’s long blonde hair was pulled back off of her bare shoulders, her thin, light dress cut low on her chest and blowing slightly in the warm breeze as she walked. She’d just gone down for a stop at the café, needing to grab a quick bite to eat to get through another late night in the studio, working on her art project. The painting wasn’t finished and it just—It wasn’t working like she wanted it to. Straw to her lips, sucking up the cool, iced coffee, Lilith turned towards the sound of the construction happening in the lot next to her—and saw him.

Her eyes locked on him, his name instantly coming to mind. Lucifer. Lilith stood there, unmoving, in the middle of sidewalk, and just stared—not even really realizing she was staring at him until someone bumped into her and broke her from her almost trance, Lilith tearing her eyes away just briefly. When she looked back, she caught him staring right back.

Lucifer caught her staring at him, and he grinned. He motioned one of the other guys over and got them to take over him. He was taking a break, he needed a smoke—whatever it took to just leave for a moment. Lucifer left the construction lot, shielding his eyes from the bright sun as he crossed the street and stopped right in front of Lilith.

"Well, now, surprised to see me again, Lilith?" said the convict, smirking down at her. His eyes roamed over her body, taking in the way the dress blew against her in the wind and hung just low enough to provide enough a fair temptation.


  1. stuckinalifeofcrime reblogged this from searchingformymaster and added:
    It was nearly torture, continuing to walk along with Lilith by his side on the way to his apartment. All he wanted was...
  2. searchingformymaster reblogged this from stuckinalifeofcrime and added:
    Lilith’s body felt nearly on fire with his touch. With the feeling of his hand on her shoulder, running over her bare...