Fit for a King (King Dice x Reader Smut)

Respite

After hours of playing Uno, the Devil dismisses you by saying, "I don't wanna beat your pathetic ass at Uno for the hundredth time again," and teleports you back to your room without any further [polite] parting words or gestures.

You slump back on your bed, pulling your blanket over your head, your weight slowly sinking into the mattress.

As your eyes flutter close, you ponder about how the past two consecutive days have been surprisingly eventful.

You never thought you'd get to hang out with the Casino's top two, and possibly even becoming friends with them.

You slowly fall asleep as you think about the kinds of shenanigans you might encounter with them again tomorrow. Playing Uno, perhaps? ...Or karaoke? ...Or... ... ... zzz...