the arcana/mysme/obey me

Vi swears it’s not her fault—how could it be, when you look the way you do? She doesn’t think anyone could blame her, not really, not when you manage to completely undo her without even trying. You don’t even realize you’re doing it, that you’re so effortlessly pretty that she is left utterly useless whenever you’re around.

And God forbid you actually notice her staring—when you glance up at her from over your laptop, giving her that small, knowing smile, like you know exactly what you’re doing to her.

And she tries to keep it together, she really does, but you make it impossible.

It’s not just about how you look, though that’s definitely part of it. But she loves how you carry yourself, how smart you are, how dedicated you are. You’re an excellent student—always organized, always ahead of your deadlines, always balancing ten different things like it’s nothing.

And Vi knows she’s smart too; she wouldn’t have made it into this school, wouldn’t be holding onto her hockey scholarship, if she weren’t. But there’s something about the way you approach every little thing, like you know you’re capable of anything, that makes her want you even more.

It’s intoxicating, being around someone like you.

And maybe it’s selfish, but she loves the fact that you’re hers—that no matter how busy you both get, you still make time for her, still let her pull you into her arms, kiss you senseless, or fuck you so, so good.

These days, the problem is time.

There never seems to be enough of it.

Between your rigorous schedule and her demanding practices, you’re both constantly being pulled in different directions, and it drives Vi crazy. She hates how little time you get to spend together, how often she finds herself lying in her dorm room late at night, thinking about you and wishing you were there with her, laying in her bed, your clothes forgotten on her floor as she pushes your knees apart, listening to those delicious whines of yours while she inches her face closer… and closer… and closer to your wet pussy.

Vi groans loudly, annoyed she cant have you now.

And it doesn’t help that you don’t even share a dorm. You’ve each got your own roommates, which means that even when you do manage to carve out a few hours together, there’s always the risk of someone walking in.

It’s maddening, really—trying to navigate your relationship around other people’s schedules, stealing kisses in empty hallways and brushing your fingers together under the table in the dining hall, never able to just be with you the way she wants to be.

And then there’s the fact that she can never stop wanting you. She loves making you feel good, loves the way your body reacts to her touch, the way you whisper her name in that breathless, needy way that makes her heart race.

But no matter how much she wants you, something always gets in the way.

Maybe it’s your phone buzzing with a reminder about a study session, or the alarm on her watch going off to remind her she’s got practice in ten minutes. Maybe it’s the sound of your roommate’s key turning in the lock, making you both scramble to look presentable before they walk in.

Whatever it is, it always happens just when things are starting to heat up, leaving Vi groaning in frustration as she pulls away from you, her forehead resting against your shoulder as she mutters something about how unfair this all is.

And you—you always laugh softly, pressing a quick kiss to her lips before telling her that there’ll be other nights, other moments, other chances.

But Vi doesn’t want other nights. Not when she wants you now.

She had been frustrated since that time she was sat next to you in your dorm room, alone and studying.

The soft hum of your room’s desk lamp filled the most of quiet, broken only by the sounds of pages flipping and your voice drifting lazily into her Vi’s ears. You were perched on the carpeted floor, leaning slightly over the low table scattered with textbooks, notes, and half-finished assignments. Vi sat next to you, her legs stretched out in front of her, one elbow propped on the table as she twirled a pen between her fingers.

“And I don’t think he explained it very well, honestly,” you said, absentmindedly brushing your hair out of your face as you scanned your notes. “He kept going off on this tangent about historical context, which, honestly, is fine, but it didn’t really help me understand the actual analysis part. Do you think the midterm essay will—”

You paused mid-sentence, suddenly aware that Vi hadn’t responded in a while. You glanced up at her, and sure enough, her blue eyes were fixed on you, but not in the way you’d expect from someone actively listening.

She wasn’t looking at your notes, wasn’t even pretending to follow along. No, her gaze was focused on you, eyes drifting down to where the hem of your skirt meets the bare skin of your pretty thighs—her eyes a little too intense, a little too amused, and far too obvious for her to deny it.

“Vi,” you prompted, drawing out her name as you raised an eyebrow at her. “Were you even listening?”

“Hm?” she hummed, clearly unbothered as a slow smirk tugged at her lips.

She didn’t even try to cover up her distraction, and instead of answering, she leaned forward slightly, kissing your shoulder as her hand brushes against your knee.

You rolled your eyes, returning your attention to your notes. “You know, this is going to be on the midterm. You could at least—”

But you didn’t get to finish, because her hand was suddenly sliding just above your knee, her fingertips brushing lightly against the skin of your thigh. You stiffened, your words faltering as you glanced at her. She didn’t look guilty, not in the slightest. If anything, she looked like she was having the time of her life, her smirk growing as she noticed the way your breath hitched.

“Vi,” you said again, this time a little softer, your tone caught somewhere between amused and warning.

“Mmhm,” she replied nonchalantly, like she hadn’t just started trailing her fingers higher, pushing the hem of your skirt up with an almost maddening slowness. “You were saying something about… historical context?”

You huffed a quiet laugh, sitting back slightly and shooting her a knowing look. “I think we’re having trouble focusing, Violet.”

“Can you blame me?” she asked, her voice low, her fingers now drawing lazy circles against your thigh before slipping underneath your skirt completely, the tips of her fingers playing with the soft fabric of your panties.

You bit the inside of your cheek, fighting back the grin that threatened to spread across your face. “We’re supposed to be studying.”

“I am studying,” she quipped, her tone light and teasing as her hand crept a fraction higher and her face coming close, feeling her breath against your neck. “I’m just… multitasking.”

Before you could respond—or give in to the way your heart was starting to pound against your ribs—the sound of a knock echoed through the room. It wasn’t loud, but it was enough to make both of you freeze. Your head whipped toward the door, your face heating immediately as you scrambled to push Vi’s hand away.

“Hey, you in there?” your roommate’s voice called from the other side of the door.

Vi groaned quietly, leaning back and dragging her hand through her hair, her smirk quickly replaced by an exaggerated pout.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” she muttered under her breath, slouching back against the table like the universe had personally conspired against her.

You shot her an apologetic look as you stood, smoothing your skirt back down and trying to look as composed as possible.

“Yeah, just a second!” you called out, your voice a little too high, a little too hurried.

Your girlfriend just shook her head, the corners of her lips twitching like she couldn’t quite decide whether to laugh or glare at the door.

Then, it happened again.

It had been a long, exhausting week, another one where your schedules never seemed to line up. Between Vi’s practices and your mounting workload for your classes, you barely had time to breathe, let alone spend time together. So when Vi got that text from you that your roommate just left for her classes, she showed up at your dorm that Saturday afternoon, sweaty from an early morning workout but unmistakably eager, you didn’t even think twice before pulling her inside and shutting the door behind her.

She looked good—too good. Her hair was damp from her shower after the gym, and she was wearing that snug black hoodie that you loved, the one that clung to her frame and her muscles just enough to drive you a little crazy.

Her hands were on your waist the second the door clicked shut, her lips brushing against your temple, then your jaw, then lower, like she’d been starving for your touch all week.

And, she practically was.

“You missed me,” you teased, your voice light as your fingers slid up the front of her hoodie.

“Mhmm… missed you,” she murmured against your neck, nodding her head as her hands grip your hips, tugging you closer before grabbing a handful of your ass. “Been thinking about you all morning. All week, actually.”

You laughed softly, your heart fluttering at the way her voice dipped, low and warm. She backed you toward your bed, her movements a little less teasing than usual, a little less patient. It wasn’t like her to rush, but you could feel it in the way her lips moved against yours when she kissed you, in the way her hands tightened around your waist. She’d been waiting too long for this, and she wasn’t shy about showing it.

The backs of your knees hit the edge of your bed, and you sank down onto the mattress, Vi following you immediately. She slid one knee onto the bed, her weight pressing you back gently as her hands trailed up your thighs, bunching your oversized shirt as they went. You could feel her smirk against your lips, her breath hitching slightly when your hands tangled in her hoodie to pull her closer.

And then—like some cruel joke—her phone buzzed.

She ignored it at first, too focused on the way your body shifted beneath hers, too caught up in the way your lips parted for her. But when the buzzing didn’t stop, her forehead dropped to your shoulder with a frustrated groan.

“Don’t,” you whispered against her ear, a quiet plea as your fingers slipped under the hem of her hoodie. “Just let it ring.”

She wanted to—God, she wanted to.

But she knew better.

“It’s probably my coach,” she muttered, the irritation thick in her voice as she reluctantly sat up, pulling her phone from her pocket. Her jaw clenched when she saw the name on the screen, and she ran a hand through her hair, looking at you with an apologetic grimace.

You watched her, sitting there with her phone in hand, clearly torn between staying with you and answering the call. “Vi,” you said softly, placing a hand on her thigh, “it’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” she snapped, though the frustration wasn’t directed at you. She tossed her phone onto the bed and dropped her head into her hands, exhaling sharply. “I swear the universe has something against me or something.”

You could see it in her posture, the way her shoulders slumped, how her fingers curled into her hair like she was holding herself back from punching something. She didn’t say it outright, but you could tell how much this bothered her, how badly she wanted to stay.

“I’m sorry,” she said finally, her voice quieter now, rough around the edges as she looked up at you. Her eyes softened when they met yours, guilt flickering behind her frustration. “I swear I’ll make it up to you.“

You leaned forward, brushing a soft kiss against her cheek, and smiled. “I know, baby.”

But as she left, throwing her hoodie back on and muttering under her breath about how ridiculous the timing was, you couldn’t help but notice the way her jaw tightened when she glanced back at you one last time. She looked like she was already planning how to make up for it, her frustration tempered only by her determination to make you feel as wanted as she knew you were.

Vi didn’t know how much longer she could go without having you.

It just kept happening. Again and again.

All the way up to the day of her big game.

The noise from the rink was still echoing faintly through the hallways of the arena, cheers fading as the crowd filtered out, but it all felt distant compared to the weight of Vi’s eyes on you. You were waiting outside the locker room as usual, leaning casually against the cinderblock wall as players and staff rushed past you, voices loud in celebration.

The door swung open, and Vi stepped out like she’d been looking for you the entire time. She spotted you instantly, her eyes locking on yours, and you couldn’t help the small smile that curved your lips. She looked a little flushed, her hair damp and sticking to her neck under her hoodie, her bag slung over her shoulder.

But there was something else too, something in the way her gaze didn’t move from you for even a second. It was heavy—her eyes dragging over you, slow and warm, like she couldn’t help herself.

You pushed off the wall and walked toward her, your voice light.

“Hi, superstar,” you teased, hoping to coax her into her usual cocky grin.

She didn’t smile. Vi’s lips stayed pressed in a thin line, and the way she looked at you sent a shiver down your spine—hungry, focused, like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

“You did so good, Vi,” you went on, trying to fill the quiet. “I heard everyone’s waiting for you at the party. They’re probably already chanting your name. It’s like…”

You trailed off as Vi took a small step toward you, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off her.

She didn’t say anything at first. Just looked at you—her eyes roaming your face, dropping to your lips, then back up again.

Slowly, she shook her head, almost as if she was answering a question you hadn’t asked.

“Vi?” you murmured, tilting your head. “What’s wrong?”

Her voice was quiet, but the rough edge of it hit you square in the chest.

“I need you.”

It was so soft, so desperate… you wouldn’t be lying if you said that it almost sounded like she was about to cry.

Your breath caught, the words landing heavy on your chest. You blinked up at her, trying to process what she’d just said, but Vi didn’t let up. She stepped in closer, so close that you had to tilt your head back to meet her eyes. Her hand reached out, fingers brushing over your wrist before curling gently around it.

“Vi…” you started, unsure of what to say. You could hear the distant hum of people talking, laughter spilling from somewhere down the hall. “Everyone’s going to be looking for you. It’s your party—”

“I don’t care,” she cut you off, her voice low, breathless and strained.

She brought her free hand up to cradle your jaw, her thumb brushing softly along your cheek before letting it fall to your waist to pull you in a bit closer.

“Please… I’ll be quick, baby, I promise. Just…” Her voice wavered as her eyes searched yours, almost pleading.

You swallowed hard, the intensity of her gaze making your pulse race. You could feel the heat of her hands on your skin, could see the desperation written so plainly on her face. Vi didn’t usually let herself get like this—didn’t let her restraint snap—but tonight, it was barely holding together.

“Please,” she said softly again, leaning in to peck your lips softly as another way to convince you.

You didn’t have time to respond before Vi gave your wrist a soft tug, leading you down the hallway with an urgency that sent a thrill straight to your core. Her grip wasn’t rough, but there was no mistaking the purpose behind it.

The sound of the arena faded with each step as Vi pulled you into a quieter hallway, finally stopping when she found an empty room—a storage space of some kind, dimly lit and empty of everything but shelves of sports gear.

The door clicked shut behind you, and before you could even turn to say something, Vi was on you—her hands gripping your waist as she pushed you back against the wall. Any words you might have had died on your tongue, cut off as Vi crashed her lips against yours in a kiss so fervent it sent a shiver straight through you.

She kissed you like she’d been starving for days, her lips moving against yours with a hunger that made your knees weak. The soft whine that left her throat was barely muffled by the kiss, high and desperate, a sound that sent a jolt of warmth pooling in your stomach.

God, if the universe took this away from her again, right now, she’d probably let the world burn.

Her hands roamed eagerly, gripping at your hips, sliding around your waist as if she needed to feel you.

You tried to speak—tried to gasp out something teasing, anything to break the tension—but Vi didn’t let you. Her lips moved down to your jaw, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive spot just below your ear.

“Vi…” you managed, breathless, but the sound was cut off as her hands splayed across your lower back, then trailing down to grab your ass.

“Fuck, baby, you’re killing me,” Vi muttered against your skin, her voice low and strained. She kissed her way back up to your lips, pressing her body flush against yours as she did.

Her thigh slid between yours, drawing a soft moan from your lips that only made her whine again in response—higher, needier.

“Violet,” you breathed again, half scolding, half pleading, your hands reaching up to curl into her hoodie.

“I can’t help it,” she whined softly, pressing her forehead to yours for just a second as her chest rose and fell, her breathing heavy and uneven. “You—fuck, you always look so good. I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Her voice cracked slightly, her desperation bleeding through as she dipped down to kiss you again—slower this time but no less needy. Her lips lingered, moving with purpose, her tongue brushing teasingly against yours.

Your fingers curled tighter into her hoodie, trying to hold onto something, anything, as Vi made a quiet, almost pleading noise into your mouth, like she wasn’t just kissing you—she was begging for you. Her hands slid down to your thighs, gripping just above your knees as she pressed herself closer, her body impossibly warm against yours.

“Please,” she whispered softly against your lips, the word barely audible but heavy enough to make your head spin. She pulled back just enough to look at you, her flushed face inches from yours, her eyes dark and wide.

“I need you so bad.”

Her voice cracked again, and it was almost her undoing. Vi looked desperate—like she was barely holding herself together, like the sheer sight of you had unraveled her completely.

You could see it in the way her hands trembled just slightly against your thighs, in the way her lips were swollen and parted, like she’d been kissing you for hours instead of minutes.

You opened your mouth to say something—anything—but Vi didn’t give you the chance. She kissed you again, harder this time, her hands sliding up under the hem of your shirt, her fingers grazing your bare skin. Every quiet moan you let out, every sharp inhale, only seemed to make Vi whine more—desperate, pleading little sounds that escaped her lips like she couldn’t help herself.

She sighed when she finally broke the kiss, panting softly as her forehead rested against yours again.

“Been wanting to fuck you for weeks...” Her voice was strained, so thick with need that it made your breath hitch.

Vi’s hands slid upward, her palms were warm against your skin as she pushed your shirt higher, her breathing shallow and uneven as though she was holding herself back. But when her hands finally cupped your tits, her restraint shattered.

“Fuck…” she whispered, almost like she was talking to herself, her voice husky and breathless.

Her thumbs brushed over the peaks of your breasts, and the moment her fingertips rolled softly over your nipples, you gasped, your back arching involuntarily.

Vi groaned in response, the sound deep and raw, her lips brushing against the curve of your neck as she pressed herself closer to you. Her fingers teased you again, rolling your nipples between them. She was trembling now—excitement coursing through her veins at the thought of finally being inside you, all wet and warm, all because of her… oh, fuck.

“V-Violet—“

“I’m here, baby.”

She worked her way across your neck and down to your collarbone, her mouth hot and unrelenting as she left a trail of hickeys that you knew would be impossible to hide. Her teeth nipped at your collarbone, making you gasp, and she chuckled softly against your skin—a low, breathy sound that only made you squirm against her more.

But her hands—her hands were just as impatient as her mouth. They trailed down from your chest, slipping under your shirt to tease the bare skin of your stomach.

She gave your tits one last squeeze before moving lower, her fingers dragging purposefully over your thighs and slipping beneath your skirt. Vi’s touch was rough and hurried now, her breath hitching as she hooked her fingers into the waistband of your panties, tugging them down impatiently.

You let out a soft whine as the cool air brushed against you, your hands gripping at Vi’s shoulders to keep yourself steady. She smirked, straightening just enough to pull your panties free before shoving them into her back pocket like a prize.

Her eyes flicked up to yours, dark with hunger, and the corner of her mouth quirked up in a teasing grin.

“I’ll keep these safe for you,” she murmured, her voice low and possessive, her fingers brushing over your thigh.

Vi’s smirk faltered the second a hand slid up, brushing over the soaked heat between your legs. Her breath hitched, and she froze for half a second, like the realization of just how wet you were short-circuited her brain. Her fingers pressed against your pussy more firmly, teasing, slipping through your wet folds.

“You’re so wet for me,” she murmured, the words coming out like a growl, low and desperate.

Her lips found your neck again, kissing and biting as her fingers finally moved, slipping inside you with eagerly. Vi groaned at the way you clenched around her, her forehead pressing harder against your skin.

“You feel so fucking good,” she rasped, her voice strained, her fingers curling slightly as she started to move.

Vi’s lips curved into a sly grin as she felt how tight you were around her fingers, the heat of you gripping her so perfectly it made her groan low in her throat. She eased another finger inside your pussy with a soft moan against your neck. The stretch made you gasp, muffling the sound against her shoulder, your fingers digging into her strong biceps as your body trembled beneath her.

Her fingers moved faster now, thrusting and curling inside you, hitting that spongy spot inside you that made your body jerk and your breath catch in your throat. She couldn’t hold back her groans as she felt you grow wetter around her fingers, the slickness making her movements effortless as you drenched her hand. The sound alone—the wet, obscene noises and squelches of her fingers working—had her biting back a moan of her own.

You whimpered softly against her neck, your lips brushing her skin as you whispered, “Vi, d-don’t go too fast, I’ll be too loud.”

But Vi wasn’t listening. She didn’t stop, her fingers curling just right, the angle of her wrist shifting as she drove you closer to the edge. Her lips brushed against your ear, dazed and lost at the feeling of you.

“No… wanna hear you,” she murmured, shaking her head softly. “Need to fuck you like this… please…”

Your response was a broken moan that you immediately tried to smother against her neck, your face buried in her skin as your body shook. Your muffled cries vibrated against her. She didn’t slow down—if anything, her pace became more deliberate, her fingers thrusting deep and curling just right, her thumb brushing over you in a way that made you jerk in her arms.

You couldn’t respond, couldn’t do anything but press yourself tighter against her, hiding your face in her neck as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, your muffled moans and cries slipping past your lips no matter how hard you tried to hold them back. Your hands clutched at her shirt, desperate for some kind of anchor as she drove you closer and closer to the edge, her fingers relentless.

She slid her thumb up to press firmly against your clit, circling it with just enough pressure to send a sharp jolt of pleasure through your entire body. You gasped, hips jerking involuntarily as her name slipped from your lips in a breathless cry.

Vi groaned, her forehead pressing against yours again as she whispered, “That’s it, baby. I’ve got you.”

Her pace quickened, her thumb working in tandem with her fingers, brushing and circling your clit. You could feel the pressure building rapidly, your hands clutching at her shoulders, nails digging into her skin as your body writhed beneath her touch.

“Vi—” you whimpered, but she only groaned again, her thumb pressing harder.

“Come for me,” she whispered, her voice raw and wrecked, the need in her tone making your chest tighten. “Please, baby. I want to feel you.”

Her thumb circled faster on your clit, her fingers curling deep inside you, brushing that spot that made your hips buck. Your entire body tensed, and Vi could feel it—could feel the way your walls tightened around her fingers, the way your legs trembled against her.

You jerked again, your hands flying up to grip the back of her neck as your orgasm crashed over you, soaking her hand. Your cries spilled out in broken moans against her shoulder as you buried your face there, trembling uncontrollably.

Vi groaned at the feel of you, her fingers slowing but never stopping, working you through your orgasm.

“Oh.. fuck,” she murmured, her voice thick and low as she pressed kisses to your temple, her free hand running soothingly along your back.

She didn’t stop until you were shaking, your body softening against hers, completely undone. Only then did she ease her hand away, holding you close, her lips brushing against your ear.

Vi pulls back slightly, her chest rising and falling as she watches you with hooded eyes, her lips still parted as though she can’t quite catch her breath. Her hair is slightly disheveled, her jaw tight, and the flush on her cheeks deepens as her gaze sweeps over you—your trembling legs, the way your chest heaves, your swollen lips.

It’s enough to make her look intoxicated, drunk on the sight of you.

Your breaths come unevenly, and you try to regain some semblance of composure as your hands smooth down your skirt—though it does little to cover the disheveled state you’re both in.

With a breathy laugh, you tease, “Your friends are probably wondering where you are by now.”

You press your hands against the wall for balance, trying to steady yourself, but your legs feel weak, unsteady.

Vi blinks slowly, her expression soft yet utterly dazed, like her mind is still stuck on you and nothing else. Her fingers twitch at her sides, and she shakes her head, a small smirk tugging at her lips.

“They can wait,” she murmurs, her voice low and rough, her eyes still fixed on you as though she’s already made up her mind. “A little longer.”

Before you can respond, before you can even process what she’s doing, Vi drops to her knees with a quiet thud, her hands gripping your hips as she looks up at you, eyes dark with determination.

You start to stammer, “Vi—w-what are you—” but the words dissolve into a sharp gasp as she tilts her head forward, burying her face under your skirt.

The heat of her breath against your sensitive pussy is enough to make your knees buckle slightly, and you have to press a hand to the wall for support.

“Oh my god—” Your words trail off into a moan as her lips move with purpose, her hands sliding up to grip your thighs, holding you in place as she starts working you over again.

Her tongue drags along your sensitive folds hungrily. She’s relentless, almost feral in her need to keep going, and every sound you make seems to spur her on, her grip tightening, her pace quickening as if she can’t help herself.

“Vi—” you gasp, your fingers tangling in her hair as your body presses back against the wall for support.

The world outside this storage room feels a million miles away, irrelevant in the face of her overwhelming need to claim you, to pull more of those beautiful sounds from your lips. She clings to your thighs, her fingers digging into your skin as though she’s afraid you’ll slip away, pulling you closer to her face. Her breaths come heavy and uneven, breaking between every flick of her tongue, and you can feel the soft, frustrated whines vibrating against you.

She buries herself deeper, pressing her sexy nose against you, brushing against your clit as her tongue moves faster, more purposeful, and the sounds she makes—those low, needy whimpers and breathless moans—send heat pooling in your stomach.

“Vi—W-Wait—” Your voice cracks, your hands instinctively reaching down to tangle in her messy pink hair.

You tug lightly, trying to pull her back just enough for you to catch your breath, but it only seems to spur her on. She lets out a guttural noise, muffled against you, and tightens her hold on your hips, keeping you pinned against the wall as her tongue delves deeper.

She’s not just eager; she’s ravenous, her tongue lapping at you with a reckless kind of determination. She drags her lips along your folds, pausing to suck gently, then harder, her moans spilling against your skin like she’s losing herself in the act. Her hands slide down, fingers curling just under the curve of your ass, pulling you further into her mouth as though she needs more of you, as though she can’t get enough.

“Tastes so good… fuck,” she mumbles hoarsely between movements, muffled by your pussy.

She tilts her head slightly to look up at you, her pupils blown wide with need, her lips slick and glistening, and her expression is nothing short of worshipful.

You can only moan in response, your body arching involuntarily as she sucks hard on your clit, sending a white-hot jolt of pleasure through you. Your knees buckle, but she’s quick to adjust, one arm moving to support you as she keeps her pace relentless. Her mouth never falters, never stops, even as her breaths turn shaky, and you can feel the tension in her body like she’s wound up so tight she might break.

She starts to whine again, this high-pitched, needy sound muffled against you, and it makes your whole body burn with want. It’s almost too much, the way she’s devouring you so completely, so thoroughly, her desperation written in every trembling moan and ragged breath.

You feel yourself getting closer all over again, the knot in your stomach tightening with every passing second, and you can’t even form the words to warn her.

Vi seems to know, though, because she presses harder, faster, the vibrations of her needy whimpers pushing you over the edge.

You cry out, your voice breaking as another orgasm racks through your body, and she groans deeply against you, her fingers tightening their grip as she keeps going, drawing every last bit of your release from you. Even as your legs tremble and your body tries to pull away from the overwhelming sensation, she doesn’t stop, her tongue still flicking against you with unrelenting hunger.

“Vi—” You whine, tugging weakly at her hair, your head falling back against the wall.

She finally slows down, her lips lingering as though she can’t bear to part from you just yet, her breaths coming hot and heavy against your skin. When she finally pulls back, her chin is glistening with your cum, her lips swollen and parted as she looks up at you with a dazed, almost drunk expression, her chest heaving. Vi stays on her knees for a moment, her hands still gripping your thighs as she looks up at you, her chest rising and falling with every heavy breath.

She’s grinning, wide and wolfish, her lips shiny and swollen, her cheeks flushed, and there’s a satisfaction in her eyes that only comes from getting exactly what she’s been craving. Her pink hair is a mess where your fingers had tugged and twisted, strands sticking out at odd angles, but she doesn’t seem to care.

If anything, it makes her grin even smugger.

She wipes her chin lazily with the back of her hand, the movement slow and deliberate, like she’s savoring the moment.

“Told you I’d be quick,” she says, her voice husky, tinged with a playful rasp. “Though, honestly, I think I deserve extra credit for being that good under pressure.”

You groan, your face still warm from the aftermath, and roll your eyes as you push at her shoulder lightly with your knee. “You’re impossible, Violet.”

Vi stands up slowly, stretching her back as she towers over you again, but her grin never fades. She leans down, bracing one hand against the wall beside your head, her face hovering close to yours, her lips quirking in that trademark cocky smirk.

“Impossible to resist, maybe,” she teases, her voice dropping low, brushing a kiss over your jaw before pulling back just enough to meet your gaze.

You shake your head, exasperated but unable to fight the small smile tugging at your lips. “You’re so full of yourself.”

“Full of you, actually,” Vi quips shamelessly, her tone dripping with cheekiness, and she snickers at the way your face heats up again.

You roll your eyes, trying to catch your breath, but her playful expression makes it hard to keep your composure.

“Can I have my panties back now?” you ask, your voice strained but teasing, as you reach down to try and adjust yourself, realizing they’re still tucked into her back pocket.

Vi looks down at the waistband of your panties for a second, feigning deep thought as she taps her chin, her smirk never leaving her face.

“Mmmm,” she hums, looking up at you with a glint of mischief in her eyes. “No.”

“Are you serious?”

“I’m dead serious.”

And she really was.

Because the whole night, she didn’t let you forget—whispering in your ear about how you were bare underneath your skirt as everyone else danced around you, her breath warm against your skin.

Her playful smirk never left her face as she leaned in close, whispering about how you looked so much better without them, her fingers grazing the edge of your skirt as if to remind you of just how good she made you feel.

Now you sat in the center of Solomon’s massive bed, mind running wild with ideas for the evening, keeping an eye on the clock and eagerly awaiting your boyfriend’s appearance. It was two minutes until eight when you heard keys jingle on the other side of the door.

You sat up straight as the door opened, Solomon smirked as his eyes met yours, swiftly shutting the door behind him he made his way over to you and stood at the edge of the bed. You leaned forward, looking up at him and hoping for a kiss. Instead Solomon grabbed your chin, tilting it up a little more, before leaning down to speak.

“You know I love how obedient you are.” His voice deep and teasing. He brushed his lips against your neck causing you to let out a short gasp, you felt him smile against your skin before he teased you more. “Someone’s excited.”

He pulled your face back towards his own and locked his lips with yours, forcing his tongue into your mouth as his hand let go of your chin and took hold of your throat. He used your throat to force you on your back against the mattress, not forceful enough to hurt, but enough to let you know your place.

You ran your fingers through his soft white hair as the kisses became messier, small tugs on your bottom lip pulling soft whimpers from you, you pulled gently on his locks each time he swirled his tongue around yours.

Solomon climbed on top of you, pinning your hands next to your head, he lowered his body so his hard cock was pressed firmly against your sex. He started to rut against you at a slow and agonizing pace, you had been turned on from the moment you woke up so this was pure torture…or so you thought.

As he started to quicken his pace, the kisses between you were broken up by short moans and gasps, you turned your head and writhed against him trying to free your wrists only for him to latch onto your neck. His mouth leaving quick licks and small bites on your most sensitive areas.

“Sol!” You moaned while feeling yourself throb. You wanted him to ruin you but instead he was busy teasing you. “Fuck me…aahhh…need you to fuck me!”

Solomon’s movements slowed before stopping completely, he let out a deep chuckle before raising his head to look you in the eyes, one hand releasing your wrist so he could gently caress your face.

“Oh…baby,” He cooed with a devious grin on his lips “What makes you think I’m going to fuck you?”

A pleading whine left you and your eyes filled with betrayal, you were more turned on now than you had been all day and he didn’t even plan on fucking you? You started to beg but he cut you off quickly. Slowly Solomon removed himself from above you, stepping away from the bed and removing his shirt.

“Strip for me and get on the floor.”

You were quick to obey, crawling off the bed to remove your clothes and dropping to your knees. You looked up at him with eyes full of lust, your nails dug into your thighs to prevent from touching yourself.

Solomon grabbed a pillow off the bed and tossed it in front of you before pulling up a chair to sit in. You knew exactly what he wanted, quickly shoving the pillow under you and between your thighs you slowly began to rut against the soft surface.

“Such a little slut,” Solomon’s eyes scanned over your form, resting on your hips as they thrusted against the pillow. “That desperate to cum huh?”

You whined and nodded your head, all sense of shame gone and the only thought filling your mind was rutting against his thigh instead of this stupid pillow. Solomon leaned forward slightly, looking deep into your eyes as you quickened your pace a little.

“Muc ton od” a wicked grin on his face as the words left his lips. The heat that had been building in your stomach suddenly lessened, your climax had been speedily approaching but now felt just out of reach.

“Noooo…s-solo-mon!” You whined in frustration. This wasn’t the first time he’d used the spell, preventing you from orgasm to drag the night on longer, this was a typical punishment of his in fact.

“You’ll be alright,” He leaned back in the chair, slowly palming his very obvious bulge as you rutted against the pillow harder now in complete frustration. “Just behave like a good slut.”

Your entire body felt like it was on fire, your thighs were shaky and you began to throb watching him run his hand up and down his cock through his pants. You couldn’t take it anymore, one hand gripping onto the pillow as the other started working on your sex, choked moans ripping from your throat as you realized just how wet you were.

Through half lidded eyes you looked back up at Solomon. He had readjusted himself while you were busy searching for relief. One arm draped over the back of his chair, legs spread wide while his other hand continued to palm his growing erection, you could tell he was holding himself back from the way he was biting his lip.

Your own movements became increasingly erratic and desperate, the sight of his chest and arms driving you wild, you wanted to trace the outline of each pact mark with your tongue. Solomon must have noticed the lust growing in your eyes because that devious grin reappeared.

He leaned forward once more, this time a red rope in the hand previously draped over the chair. Before you could protest Solomon cast another spell.

“Sdanh rieht dnib” on command the rope he held bound your arms behind your back all on its own. You struggled against it trying to break free but the rope only tightened around your wrists. “Wouldn’t want you to give into temptation.”

With a cocky smirk on his face, Solomon leaned back in his chair and slowly undid his pants before sliding them down to his ankles. Your eyes grew wide with desire, watching as he slowly pulled the waistband on his underwear down and gave a deep moan as his cock sprung free. It was all a show for you at this point, he knew how badly you wanted to be fucked and this was his way of teasing you to the point of breaking.

You watched as he lightly ran his fingers up and down his shaft, starting at the base and slowly bringing them up to his tip, bucking his hips each time his fingers grazed his swollen head. Solomon started pumping his cock at a slow even pace and watched as you began to rut against the pillow again, this time with the same rhythm as his hand.

Eyes locked onto his throbbing cock, you felt the heat between your legs building again, watching him slowly fuck his fist and wishing it was you instead, or your mouth at the very least. Precum already leaking from his tip and dripping off onto his abs as Solomon continued to stroke himself, a sharp whine escaped you as you watched more of it coat his hand with each stroke.

“What’s wrong sweetheart? Ahhh— jealous?” Solomon tried to act cocky but was getting lost in his own arousal.

“I’ve been thinking about those pictures all day, you think you’re cute sending those in the middle of class? Trying to get me worked up?” Solomon looked down at you through half lidded eyes. “Well it worked.”

He started pumping faster, letting out a few lewd moans, his legs were starting to shake and you knew he was getting close.

“Fuck baby, come here!” On his command you moved closer hoping he would finally pin you down and fuck you senseless. Instead, he leaned down over you, one hand holding your face up while he continued to fuck into the other.

Solomon kept his eyes locked on you, a smug grin on his face as he realized you were trying to get a better look at his cock. His grip on your face made it hard to see but you wanted— needed to watch him stroke himself, every thrust you pictured him inside you instead of his hand.

“Please…” you whined.

“Please what?” Solomon teased, knowing damn well what you wanted.

“P-please, I-” you were growing more desperate with each passing moment, the heat between your legs now a raging fire and throbbing for some sort of stimulation. “I want you in me!”

“I know you do baby,” Solomon said in a condescending tone, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. “But you‘ll have to wait for that. You teased me all day, so now it’s my turn.”

Lifting your chin again, Solomon worked your mouth open with his own. The room was filled with the sound of sloppy kisses and lewd moans, both of you panting in between kisses before going back for more.

You started to rut against the pillow again, desperately trying to climax even though Solomon’s stupid spell was still in effect. Peering down occasionally, Solomon watched as you tried to fuck yourself against the plush surface, both the pillow and your thighs covered in your slick.

You were so good for him, even on the days when he didn’t tie you up you always listened to him, that’s what made you so irresistible. You sounded so beautiful whimpering while he shoved his tongue down your throat once more, he wanted to push you on your back and mount you, to fuck you until your legs went numb, but he was too stubborn. Solomon felt his orgasm quickly approaching at the thought of being balls deep inside you.

“F-fuck! Open!” You did as told and opened your mouth wide, tongue hanging out and looking up with wide innocent eyes. You hoped he would appreciate your obedience and let you suck him off, you knew he wouldn’t fuck you but maybe if you were good he’d let you have a taste. His cock was covered in his precum and you wanted so badly to lick him clean, to suck on his overly sensitive tip and listen to him moan and curse your name like he always did.

Solomon sat forward, pumping his leaking cock at an erratic pace. He acted as if he would let you have your wish, his swollen tip inches away from your tongue, you let out a happy whine and batted your eyes at him to let him know he wouldn’t regret this. The sly smile he gave in return told you that wasn’t the plan.

A few last strokes and Solomon’s climax shot threw him, ropes of thick cum covering your face, tongue and chest. Coming down from his high, Solomon took in the sight of you covered in his cum, he gave a deep chuckle before wiping some off your chest.

“You really are the most obedient apprentice, aren’t you?” He taunted while holding his fingers in front of your mouth, waiting on your answer. You licked at his cum coated fingers before taking them fully in your mouth and sucking gently. “Shit, you know just what I love.”

You kept sucking as he slowly pulled his fingers from your mouth, your sex still throbbing from lack of attention, you pouted slightly once his fingers were removed.

You’re in the library. In front of you sits a very cocky Lucifer, for more reason than one. On the floor next to his chair lays his massive coat along with the vest he always wears, his belt and a single glove, his hair is slightly disheveled, his tie completely undone and hanging lose around his neck, his shirt fully unbuttoned granting you a full view of his chest and abs. You nearly choke when you realize what he had been doing in here, his pants are unzipped and pulled down slightly, his cock out and fully erect, covered in precum.

This is far from the first time you had found Lucifer in such a state, too horny for his own good and too proud to ask for help, but usually he did so in his bedroom or office as to not be found by his brothers. This was something different but you couldn’t figure out what.

“Come join me, my darling,” Lucifer beckons. Extending his gloved hand to you and spreading his legs wider, too aroused to protest or question him you make your way over to the chair and straddle him. The demon below you lets out a teasing chuckle, “After all, this is your favorite seat, isn’t it?”

You let out a whine as he bucks up against you, your body still sore from Satan’s ruthless pounding earlier, but shit he’s too tempting to say no. Lucifer places a gloved finger on your bottom lip and gives you a look that makes your thighs shake. “Pull.” He commands and you listen like the obedient human you are, pulling his glove off with your teeth and holding it in your mouth like some dumb animal awaiting your next command. Lucifer smirks and takes the glove from you, tossing it to the floor below.

“Good, now let’s get rid of this.” He tugs lightly on your shirt and you pull it off all too eagerly. You watch his face twist in an aggravated way and then turn back to the hungry look he had before. His hands run up your body, stopping to trace the outlines of the bite marks on your shoulders and neck, his eyes fixate on the hickeys that litter your skin. “Are these from him?”

You tense up at his tone. There’s no point in lying, he saw the entire thing earlier, he knows these are from Satan. You nod your head slightly, studying his face for any sudden anger, but instead he smirks and ghosts his lips across your neck.

“What a sad attempt at marking,” Lucifer’s tongue runs slowly across your skin, from the base of your neck up to your jaw, his mouth then hovers over a large hickey on the left side of your throat. “Allow me to mark you properly darling.”

Lucifer bites down on your freshly bruised skin and sucks roughly, his fangs digging deep into you but not enough to draw blood, the sensation making your head spin and pulling a deep moan from your throat. The first born pulls back enough to see your face, eyes glossed over and mouth hanging open.

“Turned on all ready darling? I haven’t even started.” Fuck you. You think to yourself. He knows damn well how quickly he turns you on, and the fact that he was in here masturbating out of jealousy just makes you want him more. “Let’s see just how aroused you are for me.”

Lucifer slides one hand into your shorts and rubs your sex through your underwear, feeling the damp spot that’s forming and giving you a smirk. He continues to rub lightly against your now throbbing sex, not enough to give you satisfaction but enough to stimulate you more.

“You’re already so wet my darling.” He coos. “But tell me,” his free hand grabs your face rather sternly, forcing you to look into his crimson eyes. “Is this for me? Or that brat?”

His voice deepening with the last question. Fuck, he was so hot when he was like this, it was rare to get Lucifer jealous and worked up but when he did you always left his room with sore legs. His fingers rubbing against you begin to slow, you were taking too long to answer, you whine and try to grind against his hand.

“You,” your voice coming out as a whisper almost “all for you.” Grinding down harder against his hand, the slight friction sending a jolt through your body. Lucifer chuckles and removes his hand from your shorts causing you to whimper.

“Don’t worry, I’m just getting you ready.” Lucifer lifts you up slightly in order to pull your shorts down along with your underwear, helping you remove them and adding them to the pile of clothes below. You drop down and grind against his aching cock, Lucifer lets out a hiss as you rut against him like an animal in heat, he grabs your hips once more to steady you. “Don’t be greedy darling. You’ll get everything you want and more, just like always.”

He lifts you again just barely, taking one hand and lining his cock up with your hole, he teases your entrance and watches as you whine and paw at his chest. He slowly eases you down onto his length, letting you adjust inch by inch, making you take him all the way to the hilt. You moan as you sink down fully on his cock, your walls stretched wide once again, still not fully recovered from Satan.

Lucifer starts to fuck into you at a slow and even pace but quickly speeds up, you fall forward with your face buried in his neck as you moan. He praises you for taking him all the way, telling you how good you feel around his cock, groaning and grunting as he bucks up into you. You set yourself back up and watch as his eyes roll back when you clench around him, his even pace suddenly becomes erratic and his eyes are looking right through you.

You can’t feel your legs anymore, your mind goes fuzzy and all you can think of is his thick cock thrusting in and out of you. Your head falls back as you scream his name, your eyes squeeze shut and you go limp just like before, if it weren’t for Lucifer’s arm wrapped around you waist you would’ve fallen backwards onto the ground. Instead your upper body hangs back while Lucifer keeps your lower body trapped as he continues to fuck you senseless as you moan and cry out his name.

You manage to open your eyes slightly and see an upside down figure standing near the doorway. FUCK! Everything suddenly makes sense. Why Lucifer was here in the library, why he was sitting in this specific chair, why he had suddenly gone feral while rutting into you. It was all in hopes that the two of you would be caught by him. And here he is.

You jolt upright, latching onto Lucifer’s shoulders while looking over your own at the demon still standing near the door.

“SA—” Lucifer covers your mouth with his hand and continues to fuck you at a rapid pace. His eyes locked on your new guest as he speaks.

“Don’t ruin this darling, I’m so close to filling you.” His free hand grips your ass tightly before slapping it, the sound filling the room and followed by a lewd moan from you. You look back again at the younger demon, he sits in a chair opposite of you two and watches the rest of your performance.

You can feel the tension in the room grow, both demons clearly pissed and yet somehow you’re more aroused than you were earlier. The thought of these two fighting over you, marking you as their own only for the other to turn around and mark you again, if they weren’t so petty maybe you could experience them both at once. That filthy little thought sends you over the edge.

You let out a wanton moan and dig your nails into Lucifer’s shoulders, the Avatar of Pride quickly unravels with you, painting your walls white with his cum. The two of you breathing heavily against each other, you rest your head on his shoulder and feel his arms pull you in closer.

“Do you plan on attending the second performance as well?” Lucifer snaps at the unwanted guest in his area. You hear a chuckle come from behind you.

“ ‘S too good, gonna—” you cut yourself off with a euphoric moan as your fourth orgasm of the afternoon runs through you. Your knees are weak and unable to hold you up anymore, your body is solely supported by Satan’s one arm wrapped around your waist to hold you in place and the window in front of you that looks over the back garden.

Your mind had melted somewhere between orgasm two and three but Satan was still taking his sweet time. You had to give him credit, the fourth born may be a hopeless romantic who much prefers love making to animalistic sex but fuck did he know how to hit every single spot and pull orgasm after orgasm from you.

You let yourself go limp, knowing the demon behind you was more than happy to have full control, and glanced out to the garden below. Panic set in.

“Satan.” His name coming out slurred thanks to your fucked out state.

“Feels good doesn’t it my love?” He closes his eyes and buries his cock further in you, rutting against your ass in a shameless way. He may be a romantic but he still has his carnal desires.

“Satan, s-stop.” You pleaded, trying to get him to pause for one minute to see what you saw. Down in the garden below, sat three figures having a nice chat it seemed. Two bodies with their backs toward you- luckily- and a third facing your direction with a full view of your naked body if he so happened to glance up.

Your eyes were watery and pretty hazy at this point but from size, posture, and who was sitting across from them you knew it was Diavolo and Barbatos sitting with their backs to you. Across from them in deep conversation was Lucifer. How long had they been out there? How had he not seen you yet? Satan had been fucking you against this window for an hour now and your moans and cries of pleasure were anything but silent.

Maybe it was the way Satan’s cock continued to graze against your walls but you suddenly found yourself aroused at the thought of being seen. The high and mighty Prince and his oh so loyal butler seeing you so vulnerable and exposed, you wondered just how Diavolo would react to seeing his precious exchange student being railed by a demon lord. You subconsciously start moaning at the thought, Satan biting down on your shoulder encouraged by the noises you make. You peer down once more in greed, only to be met with a pair of crimson eyes glaring up at you. “FUCK!”

“What?! Did I hurt you?” Your sudden outburst pulls Satan out of his lust filled haze. He looks up and turns your face gently toward his, wanting to know where he hurt you, but your eyes are fixated on something outside. The desire they once held was now void and in its place is a look of fear, concerned about what could have possibly upset his precious doll Satan looks out into the garden.

His eyes meet the icy gaze of the first born, a wicked grin forms on Satan’s lips and you feel his grip around your waist tighten. He rests his chin on your shoulder, you feel something wrap around your thigh and realize it’s his tail, you feel his cock twitch and grow inside you, spreading you even wider than before. Satan has only fucked you twice in his demon form before, he tends to restrain himself out of fear for your safety— clearly that’s left his mind right now.

“Tell me if I hurt you my love.” He whispers sensually, eyes still locked onto your new audience member. Without any prep or warning Satan begins to fuck into you ruthlessly, you always forget the added texture and girth his cock gets when he switches to this form. You suddenly feel incredibly full, he slides in and out of you with ease thanks to your cum that coats his shaft, you let out a scream of pure pleasure. Your mind goes completely blank and the only thing you can think of is him, the only words you can form are his name, chanting, screaming and moaning it as he thrusts into you. The bell on your collar ringing wildly, a sound that solidifies his ownership of you. “That’s right baby, tell him who you belong to.”

You glance down briefly and see Lucifer flinch in his seat, hands grabbing at the arm rests of his chair and brows furrowing in anger. Diavolo and Barbatos must have seen it as well as they attempt to turn and see what has him so upset, you feel your heart skip a beat but luckily Lucifer grabs their attention back. You’re impressed with how calm Lucifer is being, knowing that he can see every inch of your body pressed against this glass, knowing he can see Satan’s hand still making quick work of your sex, knowing that he can see Satan’s face now sucking on your neck while your mouth hangs open as you moan. You’re well aware Lucifer can read lips, so you know he’s able to see you calling Satan’s name over and over. You know he’s pissed.

Satan begins to pick up speed and your eyes fill with tears again. The last thing you fully see is the three demons below exiting the garden through the back gate, Lucifer’s suggestion no doubt.

“Too bad, guess he’ll miss the finale.” Satan growls in your ear. Squeezing your chest with one hand and gripping your jaw with the other, Satan pressed you against the glass harder. “Cum with me my love.”

Your shared moans and cries of ecstasy echo throughout the room, you cum around him once more and feel him pump you full of his seed. Your body is completely weak at this point, the fourth born carries you to the bed and lays you down gently, the two of you dozing off rather quickly.

You wake up a few hours later feeling ravenous, that’s what you get for missing lunch. You dress yourself quietly and decide to go search for food, doing your best not to wake the still sleeping demon. You place a kiss on Satan’s cheek and head out into the hall, halfway to the kitchen you suddenly feel a hand on your arm and are dragged into a nearby room. Your back is pinned against the wall, two large hands are planted firmly on either side of your head, a rather thick thigh is pressed between your legs, the lights are dim and you can’t make out much of anything, but that cologne lets you know everything.

. . .

MC entered the House of Lamentation expecting... well, not this.

The usual brand of chaos, perhaps -- Mammon hanging from the ceiling, or Belphegor snoozing in an awkward place.

But not Lucifer in his demon form, trapping Satan against the wall by his throat. And certainly not Satan smirking, looking even more smug than usual, all the while.

Then again, MC wasn't sure why she had expected anything else. These days, she spent more of her time playing house mom than focusing on her studies.

"Lucifer," MC scolded sternly, hands on her hips. "Put him down."

Lucifer gave MC a sideways glance, flames burning behind his crimson eyes. His expression was fuming -- as if to ask, Who dare give Lucifer orders?! -- but his gaze softened in recognition when he saw MC.

"Now," MC emphasized, raising her eyebrows.

Rolling his eyes, Lucifer carelessly deposited Satan on the ground. The fourth-born landed unceremoniously on his ass, rubbing at the bruises already forming on his throat. Yet even as he gasped for breath, Satan still maintained his cheeky grin.

MC was afraid to ask, but her curiosity got the better of her. "Which of you wants to tell me what the hell is going on here?!"

Satan leaped to his feet in one fluid motion, as nimble as the cats he loved so much. Dusting off the front of his jacket, he replied in a sardonic tone:

"I merely suggested that I had found an answer to the House of Lamentation's most burning question."

Hesitantly, MC asked, "And which question is that?"

Out of the corner of her eye, MC witnessed Lucifer's jaw clench as he glared at Satan, who still wore the same quietly bemused expression.

"The question of which demon brother is your favorite."

"An absurd question," Lucifer scoffed, crossing his arms. "And completely inappropriate, given that MC is our guest. I'm sure she tires of refereeing your incessant squabbles over whom she prefers."

MC examined Lucifer thoughtfully. His expression was fixed into one of careful nonchalance, telling her everything she needed to know. The seventh-born was an expert at appearing his most detached, just when he cared about something the most.

"I see." MC turned to Satan, lifting an eyebrow. "And Satan? What is your proposed solution?"

As Lucifer eyed her suspiciously, MC turned to him and explained, "If it stops you and your brothers from fighting, I'm all for it."

Before Lucifer could open his mouth to protest, she added, "Don't pretend like you're innocent. It was your hand around Satan's throat, wasn't it?"

That comment shut Lucifer up... for now.

"Right." Satan scratched the back of his head, cheeks flushing. "My solution."

"Yes, brother dearest," Lucifer replied through grit teeth. "Tell MC exactly what you told me."

Averting his gaze, Satan addressed the floor. "I came across a recipe for truth serum in my reading. I thought that we could give it to you-"

"After?" Lucifer prompted.

"-after," Satan finished, "you had sex with us."

MC instinctively pressed her thighs together as she briefly -- briefly -- considered the idea.

She couldn't pretend that the thought had never crossed her mind. The seven brothers each appealed to her in their own ways, not least of all Lucifer and Satan. However, MC had always dismissed her attraction to them as schoolgirl crushes. Though she knew the brothers cared for her, she always assumed they saw her more like a little sister than someone they wanted to fuck.

Now, Satan's comment had her seeing their subtle displays of affection in a new light: Satan lending her books from his personal library, pointing out the amusing observations he'd scribbled in the margins; sometimes, reading to her aloud, until they inevitably fell asleep together, snuggling in his bed. Lucifer inviting her to relax in his study while they listened to old records and drank Demonus; once the drinks loosened him up, occasionally drawing her close in a slow, intimate dance, swaying against one another into the late hours of the night.

Could all of that have been... because they wanted her?

"Yes," Lucifer scoffed. "A sick joke."

Satan's eyes gleamed as he retorted, "But, Lucifer, if it was only a joke, then why do you care so much?"

"I can assure you, I take RAD's Code of Conduct very seriously," Lucifer responded. "As a fellow student, you at least ought to show MC a modicum of respect."

Satan snorted. "You know, Lucifer, Belphie tells me that MC features prominently in your dreams... I'm sure the content is very respectable."

Lucifer took an ominous step toward Satan, blood boiling. The fourth-born held his ground, but MC stepped between them before either could come to blows.

"That's enough!"

The grave tone of MC's voice as she shrieked those words startled both brothers into a semblance of order.

"Now that I have your attention," MC said, lowering her voice to its normal register, "I'd like to ask you both a question."

Lucifer and Satan each turned to stare at MC. Their physical similarities became readily apparent as they unconsciously mimicked each other's stance, crossing their arms and impatiently tapping their foot while they cocked a single eyebrow.

MC's cheeks burned with heat as she carefully considered her next steps. She could hardly believe what she was saying even as the words escaped her lips:

"If I sleep with both of you and then take your stupid truth serum, will you promise to stop fighting over me?"

Satan's eyes widened ever-so-slightly. Lucifer coughed pointedly into his fist. Neither wanted to decline -- but both were afraid to assent.

"Right then." Liquid arousal pooled between MC's legs against her will as she spoke resolutely. "Consider this argument settled."

Before fear could get the better of her, MC spun on her heel and retreated to her bedroom, heart already pounding at the implications of her agreement. The two brothers were left in each other's company, their bodies remaining close while their minds wandered miles away in anticipation.

. . .

The demon whom MC met in Satan's bedroom was an entirely different being from the Satan she knew.

While Satan was typically soft-spoken (with the exception of his moments of rage), more content to observe the action than to get in the middle of it, this version of him was greedy and dominant -- nothing like the person she had known before.

No, this was a completely different side to Satan. And MC was lapping it up, noting every new facet of his personality as eagerly as she swallowed the abundance of cum seeping into her mouth.

Satan maintained a firm grip on MC's hair as she perched on her knees below him, his shaft buried deep in her throat. While MC wore nothing but the lacy black lingerie she had purchased for the occasion, Satan, desperate to fill any hole he could find, had only paused to discard his jacket and open his fly.

He sighed contentedly as his semi-hard cock sprung from her lips with a satisfying pop. "That's a good girl. I think you've more than earned your reward."

Holding eye contact with MC, Satan shed the rest of his clothing, save for the boxer-briefs he wore underneath. MC's pussy clenched expectantly as he grabbed her ass with both hands and effortlessly lifted her onto the edge of the bed, lips tangling with hers in a sloppy kiss.

As he eagerly parted her legs, Satan moved to kiss her inner thighs, stopping only to murmur against her skin:

"Mm, your cunt is so tight. You're just begging to be fucked, aren't you, MC?"

MC ran a gentle hand over his already-disheveled hair, offering a moment of tenderness as an interlude to their debauchery. His eyes gazed up at her, sparkling, for the briefest of seconds before he turned his attention back to the deep purple marks he was leaving on her skin.

Satan's fangs gently grazed the inside of MC's thigh as his long, slender hand wandered up to the source of her throbbing ache. His fingers circled her clit in exactly the right rhythm, eliciting a moan.

"Mmm, Satan... right there."

Satan ceased all stimulation, abruptly withdrawing his hand.

"I must have misheard you... what's my name again?"

MC groaned, reaching to urge him to finish what he had started. Instead, Satan made sure what she wanted remained just out of reach, raising the back of his palm to wipe the gathering sweat from his brow.

"Now, now. Be a good girl for me, MC. Tell me what my name is."

"Y-yes... Master."

MC gasped, hands grasping desperately at the sheets, as Satan clambered on top of her with a growl. Her proclamation gave new life to his lust, Satan's tongue greedily exploring her mouth as he slid a single finger into her dripping cunt.

"More," MC begged, bucking her hips as he pumped his finger inside of her. "Please, Master."

Satan groaned against her lips, unable to resist giving her what she wanted -- not when she was behaving so well. MC whimpered softly as a second finger found what it sought, stretching her soaked pussy in preparation to take his cock.

"That's it," Satan encouraged. "Tell me what you want, MC."

"I want-" MC gasped between desperate breaths. "-I want you inside of me, Master."

"Turn around for me, then, MC. Get on your knees."

MC followed orders, watching Satan over her shoulder as he licked her juices off his sopping wet fingers. His other hand was already wrapped around his shaft, pumping gently, the promise of its slight upward curve taunting her dripping pussy.

Satan spoke softly yet authoritatively as he settled into position behind her:

"Such a good girl. And such a pretty pussy."

Without warning, Satan slammed his length into her inviting cunt, filling MC's vision with stars.

"When you're fucking my brother," he whispered in her ear, claws digging into her hips as he railed her from behind, "make sure you remember who your real master is."

. . .

Lucifer's sin thrived in the bedroom: in peppering her skin with hickeys; in the sight of the familiar pact mark that decorated her upper back; in all of the visible evidence that this body, this woman, belonged to him.

Every marking bolstered Lucifer's pride -- and each prideful moment he shared with MC went straight to his cock, until it throbbed desperately with arousal. But despite his growing length, Lucifer refused to let MC touch him.

"Not until you're begging me to stop."

She was close to begging. MC bit her lower lip, eyes welling with tears, as Lucifer's tongue coaxed the third orgasm out of her swollen clit. This one had been even more intense than the last.

MC squirmed, trying to use her hand as leverage to put some distance between her sensitive nub and the source of its pleasure. But Lucifer wrapped his fingers around her wrist and pinned it to the bed so there was no escape.

"Are you ready to beg yet, MC?"

So breathless she couldn't form words, MC shook her head no, even as her body writhed beneath the slightest flick of Lucifer's tongue.

Emitting a low rumble, Lucifer grabbed her other wrist, pinning both hands above her head with one hand as he used the other to spread her outer lips.

MC's stubbornness didn't bother him one bit. If anything, it enthralled him...

Lucifer loved a challenge. He took mental note of each and every one of her reactions, carefully calculating what angles and which strokes were most likely to make her moan. And he did it without breaking eye contact, his ruby red eyes staring into her soul with a primal hunger that made her thighs quiver.

MC lost track of time, the moments blurring together as Lucifer licked up every last drop of her juices. He delighted in her soft whimpers; her body's involuntary twitches when his tongue swept across just the right spot. But most of all, he loved the way she said his name right when she was about to cum...

"L-Lucifer!"

Lucifer's hands pinned MC's hips against the bed as her entire body shuddered with pleasure. With each orgasm, she had also become louder, something Lucifer adored. Secretly, he hoped her moans echoed through the House of Lamentation so that each of his brothers could hear exactly whose name MC was screaming.

Lucifer's rhythm didn't change from its steady pace, even as the wave of MC's fourth orgasm washed over her. Her face contorted with the over-stimulation of her swollen clit, her body wriggling beneath the pressure of Lucifer's grip on her waist.

"Beg," he barked, ceasing his movements only to give orders. "Now."

"P-Please, Lucifer," MC gasped. "S-s-stop!"

On cue, Lucifer rose from his knees wearing a devilish smile. He crawled on top of her, stealing a kiss with swollen lips as his hands gently traced the curves of her waist. She could vaguely taste herself as their tongues tangled together.

"You know, you really are so beautiful," he whispered between kisses. MC blushed.

The back of Lucifer's hand traced the side of her cheek where the color had started to gather. MC instinctively nuzzled into his touch.

"Are you sure you aren't an angel?" Lucifer teased.

MC met Lucifer's eyes, a wry smirk dancing across her lips. "I'm no angel."

In one fluid motion, she placed her hands on his shoulders and rolled on top of him, swinging her leg over his body so her aching slit rested against the tip of his cock. She lowered herself onto him with a gasp of relief, determined to take his entire length.

"Good," Lucifer said, sitting up so they saw eye-to-eye, his grip tightening around her waist. "Me either."

. . .

MC turned to Satan incredulously, staring at the bubbling purple goo in front of her. "This is what you want me to drink?"

Satan smirked. "You've swallowed far worse."

MC glared at him as she reached for the goblet. She had done this to stop Satan and Lucifer from fighting over her, not to give them more material to use when torturing one another.

With a sigh, MC stared down at the offending purple goo. It bubbled back at her in reply.

Bottoms up, I guess.

She downed the entire potion in one gulp. Oddly, the liquid had no taste, yet she still had the sensation of water running down her throat. Whatever this truth serum was made from, it was distinctively demonic, with no human-world equivalent for MC to compare it to.

The trio sat in pregnant silence for a moment, MC drumming her fingers against the table impatiently. She just wanted to get this over with.

"So," she asked, "how do we know if it's working?"

"Hmm... Lucifer, why don't you ask MC a question with a straightforward answer? MC, you try answering him with a lie."

Lucifer sighed. "Alright then. MC, what's 4 + 4?"

MC opened her mouth, already intent on giving the wrong answer. But when she tried to form words, her body stopped her vocal cords from moving, paralyzing her speech.

"I think it's working," Satan said, "but just to make sure... Lucifer, ask MC another question, but leave the answer up to interpretation. MC, you give a vague answer, but make sure whatever you say is the truth."

Lucifer smirked as he thought up a question that, he hoped, would stump MC. "MC, do you prefer living in the Devildom to living in the human world?"

MC thought carefully about her next words, wanting to ensure she followed Satan's guidelines (without giving an answer that would offend either her human family or the demon brothers).

Finally, she said, "There are things I like and dislike about both worlds."

The words flowed out easily -- as if the serum was encouraging her to speak the truth, just as it had halted her from telling a lie.

"It's definitely working," Satan said. "You see, this particular truth serum can't make you tell the truth. It will stop you from telling a lie, but unfortunately, it can't prevent omissions of information."

"Why not use a different recipe then?" MC asked.

Lucifer replied before Satan could even open his mouth: "Because there's no such thing."

Satan nodded. "Lucifer is right. Even in the Devildom, magic has its limits."

Again, Lucifer spoke up quickly. "Shall we get this over with? I'm already late for an appointment with Lord Diavolo."

"Yes, and MC and I both have to get to class," Satan agreed.

Lucifer glared at Satan. "Then let us proceed with the questioning."

Satan turned to face MC head-on, his eyes locking on hers. He wore an amused expression that barely concealed the anxiety beneath.

MC's pulse quickened with the knowledge of what was coming next.

"MC," Satan asked, "who is better in bed: me or Lucifer?"

Nervously, MC looked between the two brothers. Then, she closed her eyes. Brief memories of both encounters flashed before her, sending shivers down her spine:

Satan's hand cupping her cheek fondly as he praised MC's obedience for swallowing all of his cum.

Lucifer's lips gliding over every inch of her bare skin, whispering words of admiration into the hickeys he'd made.

Satan circling her clit with his fingers as he pounded his length into her from behind.

Lucifer desperately holding her to his chest, his face buried in her shoulder while she rode his cock.

MC's eyes snapped open.

Chuckling, you hum in acknowledgement before leaning back down and using your tongue to pleasure him once more. Mammon makes all kinds of lewd noises, ranging from moans to whimpers, his hole making slick, wet sounds that echo off the walls. Surely, if anybody were to pass by, it'd be easy to guess what was happening.

Mammon groaned as your hands ran down his thighs, caressing them as your tongue curled in his hole, his entire body lurching forward but you pull him back towards you, back on to your tongue. Your hands now make their way to his leaking dick and as soon as you brush against the tip, he lets out the sweetest cry, a small sob leaving his chest. The pleasure, it was so good, too good.

"D-Don't! I'll cum!" He whines, gripping the bed sheets even tighter, "I'm really gonna cum!" It's too early, he thinks, he hasn't had enough, he doesn't want this to end! Of course, your hand wraps around his dick and he gasps, eyes rolling back as he cums from your mere touch, your hot, wet tongue working wonders only adding to his pleasure. He cries out, moaning your name as he cums all over his sheets.

You pull away from him, licking your lips and reveling in his taste. "Mm, how you feel Mammon?"

"Hah,,, hmm... 'm fine, 'm good..." He mumbles, yelping when you flip him on to his back. "What-"

"Is it okay if I keep going?" Mammon feels his face heat up again, and he turns his head to the side (which only makes your mouth water, truly his neck is gorgeous, a perfect canvas to paint with your lips). "Well? You gotta tell me, baby." Your thumbs rub soothing circles into his hips and he lets out a breath, looking at you through the corner of his eye, feeling even more embarrassed as he meets your gaze.

"Hngh!" Barbatos groans as he feels Sol enter from behind again, his legs give out and Solomon huffs, flipping Barbatos over on to his back and holding his legs up by his head.

"Can you hold these for him?" Sol asks, and you nod, holding Barbs legs and telling him how well he's been taking Solomon's dick. Again, no words are really being comprehended in that pretty head of his, all he can feel is that warm bubbly feeling again in the pit of his stomach, moaning loudly with each powerful thrust til he's cumming dry. More tears spill from him and you decide to give him some pity.

"Sol, I think we're done for the day, we really did milk our pretty baby dry." The white haired magician nods, pulling out of the demon. "You did so good Barb, so good! We're so proud of you~" You hum, gently kissing his face. "We're gonna clean you up now, and take good care of you, okay?" Barb just nods, smiling.