#devil au

He was also hypersensitive to every shift in his surroundings, which was exactly why he knew something was wrong the moment the air shimmered behind him.

He didn’t turn. He didn’t have to.

“You couldn’t pick a worse place to break into,” he said, resisting the urge to sigh.

A familiar voice answered, bright and delighted.

“Aw, don’t be grumpy. I missed you.”

Ah, you.

You were a devil of order, not chaos. Your role in Hell was to make sure demons and other infernal beings had the power they needed to do their work. That meant you knew every ritual by heart—conjuring, ancient forces, forbidden prayers, even the precise mix of potions and old witchcraft. You weren’t the strongest, but you were one of the most knowledgeable, the one others came to when they needed something done right. And in Hell, that made you invaluable.

He finally rotated his head—slowly, because giving you immediate attention felt like rewarding bad behavior—and there you were. Leaning against one of the pillars as if you owned the place. Wings tucked tight, a grin sharp as a spark.

A devil. In Heaven. Again.

“Get out,” he muttered. “Before someone sees you.”

“That’s a very dramatic greeting, even for you,” you said, pushing off the pillar and strolling toward him like you had all the time in the world.

He stepped back. Heaven’s light slanted over your shoulders, bending strangely around your shadow-touched aura. Your wings were tucked neatly, not by choice, but in this atmosphere they were shy. 

You weren’t supposed to be able to walk this far in; only someone stubborn or reckless could manage it. And you were both.

“You’re reckless,” he said quietly.

“And you’re adorable when you pretend you’re not happy to see me.”

He exhaled hard, jaw tightening. “What do you want?”

For once, your smile faltered—just barely. Then you held out a small glass vial, empty and clean.

“I need more,” you said. “Of the powder.”

“No.” His answer was instant.

“Harry—”

“It’s dangerous. For me to give. For you to use.”

You stepped closer, shadows flickering around your hands where the light didn’t quite touch.

“Please. Just a little. I’ll owe you.”

He hated the way that word pulled at something inside him—something he wasn’t supposed to feel for someone like you.

He looked away. “You shouldn’t come here.”

“But I do.” You tilted your head. “And you always talk to me anyway.”

Silence stretched between you, heavy, humming with something he didn’t want to name.

After several long seconds, he reached into the inner fold of his wing, plucked a single glowing feather, and brushed it lightly between his fingers. Light essence dusted into the vial like falling stars.

He handed it to you, avoiding your eyes.

“Take it,” he said quietly. “And go.”

Your grin returned, brighter than anything in the room. “Knew you’d miss me,” you teased, taking the vial. “Thanks, angel.” Your voice softened for a heartbeat—so quick he barely caught it. “You’re always invited down there, you know.”

“I’m not going to Hell.”

“Everyone says that at first.”

And then, with a ripple of shadow and warmth that didn’t belong in Heaven, you vanished.

His room fell silent again.

Harry stood alone, fingers still glowing faintly from the feather he’d taken… and tried very, very hard not to think about how he already missed you.

.

Getting out of heaven was easier than getting in. Passing through the doors and saying goodbye to the guards was almost fun for you; since you were already headed back down, there was no point in them trying to capture you. They were simply left there, stunned and furious.

Hell was warm — of course — warm and crowded. You walked like you had all the confidence in the world, but the truth was you needed to get to your room quickly. The vial in your pocket was leaking a faint shimmer of light into the air. Demons paused. A few stared at the glow. Light essence didn’t belong here — and some of them knew you were the only one bold enough to bring it.

Then someone stepped in front of you. Your devil wings opened in caution

“Why do you smell like Heaven?”

Liora was a devil whose skin was marked with black sigils that moved like ink beneath the surface. She was calm, sarcastic and pretended not to care, but she’d rewrite an entire demonic contract if you needed her.

She wasn’t just any devil — she was one of Hell’s Contract Weavers, the kind who handled the fine print of damnation itself. Every pact, every oath, every soul-bargain passed through hands like hers. She could read intentions the way others read handwriting; she sensed loopholes before they existed, outcomes before they unfolded. Some said she didn’t just predict the future — she edited it.

Nothing happened in the underworld without Liora knowing first. She always caught the scent of trouble before it took shape. Which was exactly why she could spot Heaven’s lingering trace on you the second you stepped inside.

“I don’t,” you said, continuing your walk.

“Oh yes you do!” Liora reached quickly into your pocket and pulled out the vial. “Oh my god!”

“Liora!” You snatched the vial back, shoved it deeper into your pocket, covered it even more, and kept walking toward your room.

“Where did you get that? … You went there again, didn’t you? You saw him again, right?” Liora said, following close behind.

“It’s getting warmer by the minute here. It’s lovely, isn’t it?” you said, ignoring every word she threw at you as you stepped into your room.

“Y/N! You can’t—” She stopped to close the door behind you both. “You can’t go up there…”

“I know,” you said, placing the vial on your work table.

“Then why did you go again? And why did you talk to him again?” Liora pressed.

“Li… it’s not a big deal. I needed something. Quick and easy. In and out. Sadly, nothing was damaged,” you said with a shrug.

Liora stared at you like you’d just admitted to bathing in holy water.

“Nothing was damaged?” she repeated. “You were in Heaven. You. The walking violation of every border treaty ever written.”

You pulled off your gloves and tossed them onto the table. “Relax. No alarms. No summons from the Thrones. No angry angels chasing me with spears. I was careful.”

“You’re never careful,” she muttered. Then she pointed sharply at the vial. “And that — that is the opposite of careful.”

The vial pulsed faintly, star-dust glitter gathering at the bottom. You could feel the heat of Hell pulling at it, trying to smother it, and the essence pushing back, refusing to dim.

It shouldn’t survive this deep underground.

But it did.

Because it was his.

You turned away before your expression could give you away. Liora, unfortunately, had the observational skills of someone who spent centuries reading half-truths off demon contracts.

She narrowed her eyes. “Oh. Oh no. You’re attached.”

“I’m not,” you said instantly but your wings shivered a bit.

“That was too quick.”

“I’m not,” you insisted, grabbing the vial and adjusting the seal so the glow dimmed.

Liora leaned against your bedframe, crossing her arms. “You keep going up there. You keep coming back with that look in your eyes like you just tasted forbidden fruit and aren’t sure if you want more or want to throw up.”

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t have a look.”

“You do. It’s very annoying.”

You pressed your palms against the table, grounding yourself in the familiar heat of the iron surface. “This isn’t emotional. It’s practical. I needed essence. He had it. Transaction finished.”

Liora snorted softly. “You don’t risk Heaven for ‘practical.’ That realm kills demons for blinking too loud.”

You ignored her and began pulling ingredients from the shelf—obsidian shards, dried drakevine, a strip of fallen-angel parchment from centuries ago. “I have work to do.” “Why don’t you work with the stuff down here, you have everything you need down here, what on hell are you down with light essence?” Liora said “Just a special potion someone asked for” you said hiding the truth “Ugh! and you keep lying, you know what, when you are done lying come back to me…and behave for devil’s sake!”

Liora then stormed out — muttering curses in three dead languages — the room fell quiet.

Not peaceful. Not with the vial glowing like a heartbeat on your table.

You exhaled slowly, dragging a hand down your face. Liora wasn’t wrong. You were lying. And you hated lying to her more than you hated the way your chest tightened every time you remembered the way Harry’s fingers glowed when he crushed light into the vial.

You set the vial in the center of your worktable.

The light essence was already fighting the glass, tiny sparks tapping against the inner walls like impatient fingers trying to break out. Harry’s feather had been too pure, too potent; it wasn’t meant to be contained in anything made down here.

“Stay inside,” you muttered to it, as if reasoning with celestial matter ever worked.

You retrieved a set of iron-bound tongs and lifted the vial carefully. The glow flared, bright enough to throw your shadow against the wall. Even Hell’s heat couldn’t smother it — if anything, it made the essence more stubborn, more reactive. Light hated being underground.

You uncorked the vial only a fraction, the tiniest shift, just enough for a single mote of essence-dust to slip out. It drifted upward like a floating star, resisting gravity, resisting the room, resisting you.

“Down,” you whispered.

It hovered anyway.

Typical. Heaven’s ingredients always had an attitude.

You reached for your tools: a silver-threaded brush, a bowl carved from cooled volcanic glass, a pinch of powdered obsidian that clung to your fingertips like soot. Each movement had to be precise — a breath too sharp or a gesture too fast, and the essence could rupture the mixture entirely.

And blow a hole through your wall.

You coaxed the glowing dust into the bowl, layer by layer, using the brush to guide it. Every speck crackled with soft wheezing light, protesting as you folded it into the shadowy ingredients. The moment light met darkness, the mixture hissed like steam on metal, swirling with a faint, unstable glow.

“Behave,” you warned under your breath.

It didn’t.

The essence pulsed, the bowl shaking faintly, the light trying to detangle itself from the shadows you’d bound it with. You steady your hands and began the next steps: crushed drakevine, a single droplet of nightroot oil, and a spiral traced counterclockwise — not clockwise — to keep the volatile elements from splitting apart.

Your heart thudded once, hard.

This potion wasn’t for a client.

It wasn’t for a demon.

It wasn’t for power.

This one… was for you.

You kept your expression blank, your breathing steady, your hands sure. You never let yourself think too hard while making something delicate. Thinking led to feeling, and feeling led to mistakes.

Slowly, the mixture settled — light glowing beneath shadow, shadow stabilizing the light. An impossible balance, one that should not exist, yet somehow did.

You stared down at it.

Warm. Bright. Dangerous.

A little like him.

You exhaled shakily and reached for the next ingredient. You had a long way to go before it would be finished. And if Liora knew the truth…

Well.

You’d deal with that later.

.

Harry tried to focus on the archives.

Really, he did.

He stood in the vast celestial library—rows of scrolls, tablets, crystalline records hovering in quiet, perfect order—but his mind refused to cooperate. Every time he reached for a document, he saw you. Every time he tried to think of Luminary Scholar protocol, he heard your voice, smug and trouble-warm, echoing at the back of his thoughts.

This was ridiculous.

He ran a hand through his hair, wings tightening in irritation. Angels were not supposed to feel this kind of pull. Not toward devils. Not toward you. Heaven had trained him his entire life to distrust the lower realms, to fear them, to hate them in the quiet, righteous way angels did.

So why did the image of you standing in his chamber—shadow-edged and smiling—refuse to leave him?

And worse… something was wrong.

He could feel it: a faint tug in the center of his wings where he’d plucked the feather for you. A wrongness in the air, like a thread pulled too tight. Light essence was never meant to be held in Hell; its nature resisted, strained, fought. She’s using it, he thought. Or trying to.

He exhaled sharply, forcing his shoulders to relax. Not your concern, he told himself. You gave it to her. It’s hers now. But that didn’t stop the unease curling in his stomach.

He needed a distraction.

He moved through the shelves, scanning labels—Historical Manifestations, Choir Reassignments, Records of Sanctified Geography—until a file caught his eye. Tucked behind pristine scrolls, almost intentionally hidden.

CLASSIFIED: DESCENSIONS / INFILTRATIONS

He froze.

Most angels went their entire existence without even hearing about descensions. Falling wasn’t supposed to happen anymore. And infiltrations… Those were ancient, outlawed practices.

But the label pulsed faintly, reacting to his touch as if recognizing a mind authorized to parse complex knowledge. Against his better judgment, he pulled it open.

Stacks of accounts spilled out—some glowing, some darkened by age.

Case 14-A: Angel attempted voluntary descent. Motivation unknown. Returned after 3 minutes with memory damage. No punishment.

Case 29-C: Two angels collaborated to breach Hell’s borders. Intent: retrieval of forbidden artifact. Both exiled after breaking the protocol.

Case 51-F: Devil manipulated an angelic escort to cross realms. Devil escaped. Angel sentenced to penance.

Harry swallowed.

He read further, scanning descriptions of pathways, loopholes in old treaties, the thin spots in the barrier—old, unstable, fragile.

It made your earlier words echo louder in his mind:

You’re always invited down there, you know.

His hands tightened around the folder.

You couldn’t have meant that literally.

You couldn’t ask him to—

No.

Absolutely not.

He shut the file so fast the pages snapped together. His heartbeat jumped like it was trying to escape his ribs. Going down… that would be madness. Treason. The kind of crime that got angels exiled, wings stripped, name struck from the Choirs.

And yet…

He looked at his wings again, at the faint glow pulsing beneath feathers, tethered to the essence he’d given you. The connection wasn’t supposed to be this strong. He wasn’t supposed to feel anything.

But he did.

He felt you.

Felt the essence resisting something… or someone… or somewhere.

Harry closed his eyes, jaw clenched. He hated how much that scared him.

He hated even more how much he wanted to go after you.

You’ve always been told that the devil comes in disguise, that he cloaks himself in beauty and charm, whispering seductive lies into the ears of the desperate. He’s the reason for your sins, the voice of temptation that haunts your dreams.

But when you finally come face to face with him, there’s no disguise.

Hongjoong is a living embodiment of sin, draped over a throne carved from darkness and desire, his presence dominating the space around him. He sits back, legs spread wide, his black shirt casually unbuttoned just enough to reveal the ink snaking over his collarbone, glistening like promises of debauchery. His silver rings catch the dim light, a promise of danger glimmering in the shadows of the room.

His eyes—deep, endless pools of darkness—glistening red, lock onto yours, sharp and predatory. The very air around him crackles with an intensity that threatens to consume you whole, yet you stand firm, your defiance a flickering flame against the encroaching darkness.

“I came to make a deal,” you state, voice steady, even as your heart pounds a frantic rhythm against your ribs.

His lips curl into a smirk, a flash of amusement cutting through the tension. “Did you, now?”

“I don’t repeat myself.”

He chuckles, a low, throaty sound that resonates deep within you. “Feisty.” He leans forward, his gaze piercing through you like a dagger. “I expected someone like you to come crawling eventually.”

You straighten, forcing your chin up, refusing to be intimidated. “I don’t crawl for anyone.”

His amusement deepens, a dangerous glint igniting in his eyes. “No? Not even for me?”

And before you can respond, he’s there—standing inches away, the heat of him seeping into your skin. His fingers wrap around your jaw, gripping you with a power that sends shivers of both fear and exhilaration down your spine.

“You don’t crawl,” he echoes, his voice a velvet rasp that wraps around your throat, holding you captive. “Not yet.”

You refuse to break eye contact, though your breath hitches as he leans in, his lips hovering tantalizingly close. “But you will.”

His thumb strokes over your bottom lip, dragging it down slightly, teasing, as if testing your resolve. “Do you know what you’re asking for?”

You swallow hard, defiance bubbling beneath the surface. “I’m asking for everything.”

He smirks, the corners of his mouth curling like he’s just been handed a delicious secret. “You think you can handle it?”

“Maybe I want to get burned.”

The intensity in his eyes shifts, darkening with something primal. “Oh, sweetheart,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear, “you have no idea what kind of fire you’re playing with.”

His grip tightens, fingers digging into your skin, pulling you closer. “I’ll give you everything,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your neck. “Every wicked thing you’ve ever dreamed of. Every filthy pleasure that’s crossed your mind.”

His lips ghost over your skin, igniting flames along your neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. “But you need to understand something.” His voice drops to a sultry growl, each word a dark promise. “When you’re mine, you surrender completely.”

You shiver at the thrill of his words, feeling the weight of his gaze like a physical touch. “You think you can break me?” you challenge, your voice steady, even as your body responds to him with an eagerness you can’t ignore.

“Oh, darling,” he chuckles, the sound low and dangerous, sending heat pooling in your belly. “I don’t need to break you.”

His hands slide down your arms, tracing every curve, exploring the terrain of your body as if memorizing every inch. “I just need to make you beg.”

His grip on your waist becomes possessive, fingers sinking into your flesh, and you gasp, the sound escaping your lips unbidden. “You think you can make me beg?”

“Don’t test me.” His voice drops to a husky whisper, his lips barely brushing against yours, the tantalizing promise of what’s to come lingering in the air between you. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

His lips crash against yours, hungry and fierce, a collision of heat and urgency. It’s raw, consuming, and the moment his mouth claims yours, you feel yourself melting against him, desire surging through your veins like fire.

You respond with a hunger of your own, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer, as if you can somehow bridge the gap between the fiery need coursing through you and the cool darkness that surrounds him. He groans into your mouth, a deep, primal sound that reverberates through your body, igniting every nerve ending until all you can think about is him.

He pulls away, a cruel smile dancing on his lips, breathless and wild. “You see? Your body is already begging.”

“Fuck you,” you retort, but the challenge falls flat when you feel the heat pooling in your core, an insatiable hunger that demands to be fed.

“Oh, you will,” he says, voice dripping with lust and malice, “but not before I have my fun.”

He shoves you back against the wall, pinning you there with his body, the weight of him a delicious pressure that sends shivers coursing through you. His lips graze over your throat, teasingly, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as he whispers dark promises against your skin.

“Every wicked thought you’ve ever had, every sinful desire lurking in the corners of your mind?” His breath is hot against your ear, and you can’t suppress the moan that escapes your lips. “I’ll make them all come true.”

His hands explore your body, rough and demanding, tracing the curves that drive him wild. You arch into his touch, desperate for more, every instinct urging you to surrender completely to the devil before you.

“You want me,” he growls, his fingers digging into your hips, forcing you to feel every bit of his hunger. “You want everything I have to offer. Don’t pretend otherwise.”

“I want more,” you whisper, your voice trembling with desire, your heart racing as you lean into him. “Show me what you can do.”

His eyes flash with satisfaction, and in that moment, you know you’ve crossed a line you can never return from. You’re tangled in the web of his dark allure, willing to embrace whatever sin he offers.

“Then let’s see how far you’re willing to fall,” he murmurs, his lips curling into a wicked grin as he pulls you deeper into the abyss.

And you realize, with chilling clarity, that you’re ready to surrender everything.

Hongjoong's lips barely leave your skin, his mouth trailing hot kisses down your neck, but even as his fingers work their magic, you refuse to be reduced to a quivering mess beneath him. Every touch ignites a fire deep within you, but you cling to your defiance like a lifeline.

“You think you can break me?” you challenge breathlessly, even as your body arches into his every touch, desperate for more.

He chuckles darkly against your skin, the sound reverberating through you like a spell. “Oh, darling, I don’t need to break you.” He grips your jaw with one hand, tilting your face up to meet his gaze, the intensity of his stare making you shiver. His fingers slide under your skirt, teasingly slow as he drags them along your thighs, brushing the fabric of your panties. The heat pooling in your belly is undeniable, but you bite back a moan, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you lose control.

“Fuck you,” you hiss, though the heat in your voice betrays you, and he laughs, the sound low and teasing.

“Oh, I plan to,” he murmurs, a wicked glint in his eyes.

Before you can protest, he slips a finger beneath the fabric, teasing you with a slow, deliberate touch, his eyes locked onto yours as he watches you squirm. You feel the heat rise in your cheeks, the humiliation and desire clashing within you.

“You’re just a spoiled little pastor’s daughter,” he taunts, the edge of his voice dripping with condescension. “What do you know of real pleasure?”

“I know enough,” you snap, forcing your voice steady even as he pushes a second finger inside you, stretching you, making you gasp. “I know you’re nothing but a—”

His grip tightens, fingers wrapping around your throat, cutting off your words as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “What was that? You were saying?”

The pressure of his grip sends a rush of heat coursing through you, a thrill mixed with fear and desire. You look into his eyes, defiance still burning, and manage a breathy, “You think you can intimidate me?”

His lips curl into a smirk, but there’s no amusement in his gaze—only hunger. “Oh, I don’t need to intimidate you. You’re already so captivated…”

With a swift motion, he pulls his hand away, leaving you gasping, aching for his touch. The sudden absence sends a wave of frustration crashing over you. “What the hell?”

He leans back, watching you with amusement, as if savoring the moment. “Did you think it would be that easy?”

You glare at him, fury and desire battling for dominance within you. “I didn’t come here to play games, Hongjoong.”

“Yet here we are.” His fingers trail over your bare skin, igniting every nerve ending as he watches you squirm under his gaze. “You came to make a deal… and you think you can just waltz in here and demand what you want?”

“I came to take control,” you retort, the fire in your belly urging you to push back even harder. “I’m not afraid of you.”

He steps closer, his presence overwhelming, and you can feel the heat radiating off him. “You should be.”

In an instant, he closes the distance, his grip tightening around your throat once more, not enough to hurt, but enough to make you gasp. “Tell me, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against yours, teasing. “Is this what you wanted? To feel me choke you until you can’t breathe?”

A thrill races through you, and against your better judgment, you reply, “Yes.”

His eyes darken, and he leans in closer, his mouth ghosting over your lips. “You think you’re so tough, but I see right through you. You want me to own you.”

“I w-won’t let you,” you spit back, but the words come out as more of a plea than a declaration.

“Then let’s see how far you can go before you break,” he challenges, his lips curling into a predatory grin. “Because I have every intention of claiming you.”

With that, he crashes his mouth against yours, a fierce, possessive kiss that leaves you breathless. You respond instinctively, your body craving the heat and intensity of him. He deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours, and you can feel the way he pulls you in, demanding your submission even as you fight against it.

His fingers slide back down your body, exploring, teasing, and you can’t help but moan into his mouth. “You think I’m just going to give in?”

He pulls back slightly, eyes glinting with amusement. “You already are. You just don’t know it yet.”

He pushes you back against the wall even more, pinning you with his body, the weight of him pressing you into the hard surface. His hand slides beneath your skirt again, and you feel the cool air against your skin as he tears away your remaining barriers. “Let’s take this to the next level, shall we?”

“Stop it!” you hiss, but the fire in your voice is a thin veil over your desperation. You wanted him so fucking bad.

“Make me,” he challenges, and with that, he plunges two fingers deep inside you, and you can’t help but gasp, your body responding against your will.

“Fuck!” you curse, and he chuckles, the sound low and triumphant.

He drives his fingers deeper, and you feel yourself spiraling, pleasure washing over you in waves. Each thrust, each curl of his fingers ignites a fire within you, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Admit it,” he breathes against your ear, his voice a sultry whisper that makes your heart race. “You love this. You love being my little plaything.”

“No,” you manage to say, even as your body betrays you, begging for more. “I hate you!”

“Lies…,” he growls, his fingers moving faster, rougher, and the pressure builds, your body teetering on the brink. “You’re mine, whether you want to admit it or not.”

He captures your lips again, his kiss fierce and demanding, and as he deepens his fingers, you feel the world around you dissolve. You’re lost in him, in the heat and the darkness, and with every thrust of his fingers, every possessive grip, you know you’re falling deeper into his embrace.

“I’m not afraid of you,” you whisper between kisses, but the defiance in your voice is faltering, the fire in your belly igniting as you feel the climax build.

“You should be,” he murmurs, voice low and tantalizing. “Because I’m going to make you beg for more.”

And with that, he pushes you over the edge, your world exploding in a haze of pleasure and surrender, and as you cry out his name, you know you’ve finally succumbed to the devil who has claimed you body and soul.

The air is thick with tension as Hongjoong pulls you closer, his eyes dark and filled with an insatiable hunger. The moment you catch your breath, he sweeps you off your feet and pushes you around, pressing your back against the wall. Your heart races with a mix of anticipation and defiance, the thrill of the forbidden sending a shiver down your spine.

“Still think you can control this?” he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear.

“Maybe,” you reply, fighting to keep your voice steady despite the urgency pulsing through you.

Without warning, he lifts one of your legs and drapes it over his shoulder, positioning you exactly how he wants you. The sudden shift catches you off guard, and a rush of heat floods your cheeks as you look down at him, your breath hitching.

“You don’t get to decide that anymore,” he growls, his voice low and sultry. “You’re mine now.”

Before you can respond, he dives in, his mouth finding you with a hunger that makes your head spin. He latches onto you without warning, and a gasp escapes your lips as his tongue glides over your clit. Pleasure bursts through you like wildfire, and you instinctively grip his hair, pulling him closer as he devours you.

“Hongjoong!” you cry out, your body arching against him, desperate for more.

He chuckles against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through your core. “That’s it, sweetheart. Let me hear you.”

He works you over with precision, his tongue dancing and teasing, swirling and flicking in a way that has your knees threatening to buckle. Your mind races, caught in the chaos of pleasure and defiance. “You think this is going to make me submit?” you challenge breathlessly, even as your body betrays you, clenching around nothing as he pushes you higher.

“Just admit you love it,” he replies, his voice muffled as he continues his relentless assault. “Admit you crave it.”

You shake your head, refusing to give him the satisfaction, even as the heat builds inside you, every nerve ending alive and begging for release. “I won’t give in that easily!”

“Is that so?” He pauses for a brief moment, pulling back just enough to look up at you, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Hm, then I guess I’ll have to work harder.”

With that, he resumes, his mouth finding you with a fervor that makes your heart race. He pushes your leg higher, deepening his access, and you can feel the pressure building within you, the coil tightening as he drinks you in. The raw intensity of it all is overwhelming, and you can’t help but moan, the sounds escaping you unbidden.

“You’re so fucking wet for me,” he growls, the words dripping with satisfaction as he plunges his tongue deeper, teasing and swirling, every flick sending shocks of pleasure coursing through you.

“Damn it, Hongjoong!” you whimper, fighting against the overwhelming sensations, but he just laughs, the sound dark and full of promise.

“Tell me you want this. Tell me you want me,” he urges, his eyes never leaving yours, filled with a feral need that sends a thrill through you.

“Never,” you retort defiantly, but the fire in your belly is reaching its peak, and your resolve begins to waver.

He chuckles again, the sound low and sultry, and the wicked gleam in his eyes only fuels your frustration.

He doubles his efforts, tongue swirling and teasing, fingers digging into your thighs as he holds you steady. You can feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter, a pressure building that threatens to overwhelm you.

“Just give in,” he murmurs, lips brushing against your skin, sending shivers racing through you. “Let go of your pride. You’ll find that this is where you truly belong.”

“Shut up,” you gasp, unable to hide the pleasure leaking into your voice as he pushes you closer to the edge. “You think you can just—”

But he cuts you off, plunging two fingers inside you alongside his mouth, his relentless rhythm pushing you past the point of no return. Your body responds instinctively, every muscle tightening as pleasure overwhelms you, and you can’t hold back the moan that escapes your lips.

“God, Hongjoong!” you cry, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you feel yourself teetering on the brink.

“Tell me you want me to make you come,” he demands, his eyes locked on yours, dark and demanding.

“Never!” you scream, defiance fighting against the overwhelming pleasure crashing over you.

But he just smirks, the fire in his eyes igniting further as he doubles down on his efforts. “Then I’ll just have to make you.”

He thrusts his fingers deeper, his devilish claws feeling incredibly pleasant, curling them just right, and the world around you fades away. The pressure builds, every nerve ending alight with need as you approach that sweet release.

“Fuck!” you gasp, the word tumbling from your lips as your body quakes beneath him, and in that moment, all your defiance crumbles.

“Admit it,” he breathes, his voice thick with satisfaction as he watches you unravel. “You want this. You want me.”

“Fine!” you shout, the words spilling out before you can think. “I want it! I want you!”

With that, you feel the world explode, pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave as you cry out his name, surrendering completely to the devil who has ensnared your heart.

As the waves of pleasure recede, Hongjoong wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, a wicked smirk dancing on his lips. The look in his eyes is predatory, dark, and intoxicating. He grips your waist, lifting you off the ground, and suddenly, you’re pinned against the wall. Your heart races as your legs instinctively wrap around his waist.

“Think you can control me?” he murmurs, his voice low and sultry, sending shivers down your spine.

Without waiting for a response, he thrusts into you hard, filling you completely. His cock was huge… barely fitting in. The sensation takes your breath away, and you gasp, your body instinctively arching towards him as he holds you firmly against the wall. Each thrust is hard and deliberate, pushing you to the edge, igniting a fire within you that you can’t deny.

The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the air as he drives deeper. He leans in, his breath hot against your ear, whispering taunts that send thrill after thrill coursing through you. The pressure builds, your body responding eagerly to his every movement.

You can feel the tension coiling tighter with every thrust, and despite your attempts to maintain your defiance, you find yourself gasping for breath. The heat pooling in your belly is unbearable. “I hate you,” you manage to say, but even you can hear the yearning in your voice.

He only chuckles, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. He lifts you higher against the wall, positioning you to his liking, and thrusts harder, each movement precise and unrelenting. The overwhelming pleasure threatens to consume you, but he holds you in place, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

As he pushes you to the brink, he grips your throat, tightening just enough to make your head spin. The world tilts on its axis, and you feel your body betraying you, craving his touch more than anything. He bites down on your shoulder, leaving a mark that burns and seals your fate as his.

The pressure inside you builds and builds, and your mind spins as you teeter on the edge of release. With each thrust, you can feel yourself breaking apart, the heat overwhelming. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you cling to him, desperate for stability.

“Just let go,” he growls, the primal hunger in his voice sending shivers down your spine. The tension reaches a peak, and in one powerful thrust, you feel the world explode around you. Pleasure crashes over you like a tidal wave, leaving you gasping his name, surrendering completely to the devil who has ensnared your heart.

He rides you through your climax, thrusting relentlessly as your body trembles around him. The waves of ecstasy wash over you, drowning out everything else. With each movement, he holds you tightly, claiming you as his, marking you for all to see.

You’ve entered a dangerous game, and deep down, you know you’re addicted to the thrill, the heat, and the devil himself.

As you slowly come back to reality, breathless and dizzy from pleasure, Hongjoong's smirk only deepens. He grips your waist, his eyes dark with satisfaction. “Is this how you rebel against your father?” he growls, moving you into the neatly tidied desk of your father's, only to throw everything in sight on the floor, thrusting deeper into you. “By making a deal with the devil and fucking hard on his cock?”

You gasp at his words, feeling the heat wash over you again as he drives into you relentlessly. He tightens his grip around your throat, choking you just enough to send a thrill through your body. “Answer me,” he demands, his voice low and commanding.

“Y-yes…!” you gasp, his words sending a thrill through you.

The room is filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing and the rhythmic thud of his body against yours as he thrusts into you relentlessly. The desk creaks beneath the two of you, the chaotic mess of scattered papers and pens a testament to the fervor of the moment. Hongjoong leans closer, his breath hot against your ear as he takes you completely.

“This is what you get for striking a deal with the devil himself,” he growls, his voice dripping with dark satisfaction. “You thought you could handle it, didn’t you? But look at you now, utterly at my mercy.”

His words send another thrill through you, the way he degrades you only fueling your desire. You meet his gaze, defiance still flickering in your eyes, but it’s drowned out by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins.

“You wanted to rebel, didn’t you?” he continues, his thrusts unyielding. “Is this what you call defiance? Letting yourself be fucked like a filthy little whore on your father’s desk?”

You try to protest, but the words get caught in your throat, your body betraying you as you arch against him, craving more. His grip tightens on your hips, holding you in place as he drives into you harder, each thrust sending waves of ecstasy crashing over you.

“Admit it,” he demands, his voice rough and commanding. “You love being treated like this. You love the danger, the thrill of being taken by someone like me.”

You moan softly, the pleasure overwhelming, and despite your best efforts to stay defiant, the truth hangs heavy on your lips. “I… Ah, fuck-,” you manage to choke out, but even you can hear the weakness in your voice, the way your body responds to him with every thrust.

He chuckles darkly, the sound filled with amusement. “Mhm… you’re just a good little, innocent pastor’s daughter who wants to be a bad girl,” he taunts, thrusting even harder. “And now you’re mine. You’ll learn to embrace it.”

His words cut deep, igniting a fire within you that’s both thrilling and terrifying. You know you should feel shame, but all you feel is desire, the way he dominates you feeding into something primal and raw.

With a final powerful thrust, he pushes you over the edge once more, and you cry out, the intensity of your release consuming you. Hongjoong doesn’t relent, continuing to thrust as you ride the waves of pleasure, your body quaking beneath him.

“See?” he breathes, watching you intently, a smirk playing on his lips. “This is what happens when you give in to temptation. You become a slave to your own desires.”

As you come down from your high, he holds you close, filling you completely, your bodies entwined in a tangled mess of passion and chaos. In that moment, you realize you’ve crossed a line you can never return from. The thrill of being his—the devil’s possession—consumes you, and deep down, a part of you knows you’ll never want to escape.

“You’ll crave this again,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against your ear. “You’ll come back for more, just like the good little sinner you are.”

And with that, he begins to thrust again, igniting the fire within you once more, proving that once you make a deal with the devil, there’s no turning back.

With each powerful thrust, Hongjoong ignites a fire deep within you, your body responding eagerly as he drives you closer to the edge again. The pleasure builds quickly, and before you can catch your breath, he shifts his angle, hitting that perfect spot that sends shockwaves through your entire body.

“Look at you,” he growls, his voice low and teasing as he watches your reaction. “So filthy, so eager for my cock. You want to come again, don’t you? You want to let go and give in completely.”

You can barely manage a response, your breath coming in quick gasps as the pressure within you swells to an unbearable level. “Yes,” you whimper, the desperation in your voice only fueling his dominance.

“Good girl,” he praises, thrusting harder, his movements relentless as he pushes you further. “Let it out. Show me how much you want it.”

In that moment, the tension inside you snaps, but it’s not just an orgasm; it’s something more powerful. The wave of pleasure crashes over you as you squirt, soaking him and the desk beneath you. Your body trembles uncontrollably, caught in the throes of ecstasy, as you experience a high unlike anything you've ever felt.

“Look at you,” he breathes, watching the scene unfold with dark satisfaction. “Squirting all over me. You’re such a dirty little slut, aren’t you?” His words drip with both praise and degradation, sending you spiraling even further into the depths of pleasure.

You can barely comprehend the intensity of the moment, overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through you. The sound of your release fills the room, and all you can do is cling to him, your body shaking as he continues to thrust, riding out the waves of your pleasure.

“Such a good little sinner,” he murmurs, his voice a mix of hunger and satisfaction. “You’re completely mine now, and you love every second of it.”

As your body trembles beneath him, he doesn’t let up, continuing to drive into you with fervor, ensuring that you feel every last bit of pleasure. The connection between you is electric, and in that moment, you know there’s no turning back from the thrill of what you’ve become—a willing prisoner to the devil’s desires.

As the waves of pleasure finally recede, Hongjoong pulls back, his breath heavy and uneven. He gazes down at you, a smirk playing on his lips as he takes in the sight of your flushed face, the evidence of your shared passion still glistening on your skin. You can feel the heat radiating between you, a tangible reminder of the intensity that just unfolded.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, fingers brushing lightly over your still trembling body. “All wrecked and vulnerable. You really enjoyed that, didn’t you?” His tone is both playful and predatory, making it clear that he relishes in your surrender.

You try to catch your breath, your heart racing, but his presence looms large, overwhelming. “I... hate you,” you manage to say, though the words come out breathless and weak, the defiance in your voice barely a whisper.

Hongjoong chuckles, clearly enjoying your attempt to maintain some semblance of bravado. “Oh, sweetheart, we both know that’s a lie,” he replies, his fingers dancing across your skin, teasing and taunting. “You love this just as much as I do. You crave it.”

As he pulls you closer, you can feel the warmth of his body against yours, a stark contrast to the coolness of the desk beneath you. His grip is firm but gentle as he runs his hands down your sides, reminding you of the way he claimed you just moments ago.

“Let’s not pretend,” he says, his voice a mix of roughness and gentleness. “You’re not just some innocent girl anymore. You’ve crossed a line, and I can’t help but enjoy the way you’re falling apart for me.”

He leans down, pressing a soft kiss against your forehead, the gesture surprisingly tender after the intensity of your earlier encounter. “But don’t think I’ll go easy on you,” he adds, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “You’re mine now, and I’ll make sure you remember that.”

As he pulls back slightly, his eyes lock onto yours, a wicked gleam dancing in their depths. “You’ll want more, won’t you? More of this, more of me,” he says, a playful challenge lacing his words.

You feel the heat rising in your cheeks, a mixture of embarrassment and undeniable desire. “Maybe,” you reply, trying to keep your tone defiant, but the tremor in your voice gives you away.

“Good,” he replies, his smirk widening as he leans in closer, the distance between you shrinking once more. “Because I have plans for you. This is just the beginning.”

He presses another kiss to your lips, rough and teasing, igniting the fire within you all over again. It’s a reminder that even after the chaos, he’s still the devil you’ve recklessly given yourself to—a thrilling danger that you can’t resist.

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“Did you sleep well?” Steve asked, watching you slowly blink your eyes open. He watched over you the whole night, eyes never straying. There was something about you that held him bound to your soul. “We have lots of work to do in the future, but today, we will have a day off and buy all the things humans need.”

“I thought you snap your fingers and everything …appears,” you wondered if the red dress and the food he gave you were illusions.

“I can materialize whatever I want whenever I want. I just thought it’d be nice to get out of this place. Do you want to go shopping and get ice cream or something? Whatever your heart desires, you’ll get it.”

You didn’t know what you wanted. In the past, no one cared much about your needs or wishes. And for the last three years, you have had no choice in anything.

“Maybe we should just continue with our mission? I don’t need much.”

“How about this…” He stepped closer to the bed to touch your cheek gently. “We can taunt someone today and scare the shit out of them after we go shopping.”

“You’re negotiating with me over shopping?” You laughed for the first time in ages. “I thought you were the devil, and everyone follows your orders.”

Steve leaned closer to whisper in your ear, “Don’t tell anyone, Y/N.” He chuckled when you giggled like you used to do when you were still the carefree girl, not knowing about the cruelty of mankind.

“It’s our secret,” you replied without thinking twice. The events of the last days left you stronger, and to be honest, you slowly became reckless.

“Good,” Steve laughed with his full body, making the ground shake. You were already used to his powers and didn’t even flinch. “I’ll give you time to get ready, and then we will raid town.”

Steve wanted you to choose anything your heart desired. The problem was, after not having a choice in anything for the last three years, you didn’t know what you wanted.

“Do you want to go to another store?” Steve looked around the fancy boutique, unsure what women these days liked. He wasn’t interested in clothing, jewelry, or beauty products.

You shook your head. Steve tried to be nice, but nothing caught your eye. Why buy a dress? You’d only draw interest toward you and your body. That was the last thing you wanted.

“Can we get jeans and t-shirts? I don’t feel comfortable in dresses and such.” You murmured, averting your gaze.

“I told you,” Steve sternly said, to push you a little. “We can buy anything you want. Let’s get jeans and t-shirts.”

Steve patiently waited for you to choose the clothes you wanted.

Right when you wanted to walk out of the boutique, your eyes landed on a dress.

You gasped because it was the most beautiful piece of clothing you had ever seen. For only this moment, you forgot about the past, the hell you endured, and that the only person on your side was the devil.

Steve watched you turn to carefully touch the fabric. Oddly, he felt his dead heart beat a little faster, seeing you so enchanted by the dress.

The gown was a masterpiece in a romantic design. Something you had always dreamed of wearing in the past. It had a strapless sweetheart neckline, accented by a deep wine-red flower.

Layers of wine-red satin and soft cream fabric were draped in cascading swags, creating the skirt. Threaded throughout the skirt were roses.

“Light beneath dark,“ you murmured, fascinated by the gown. Steve waved at the clerk, silently telling them to pack up the dress for you. He knew you loved it and wanted to give it to you. “I want to wear it when we bring my family down. It will be covered in their blood.”

You twirled around to look at the devil, holding his gaze. Something had shifted after you saw the dress.

Steve smirked, hiding that he couldn’t be prouder of you. “It will look even more beautiful painted in their blood.”

After spending more time among other people, you were emotionally drained. It was all too much, seeing happy faces and people living a normal life after the horror you had endured.

Steve brought you back to have dinner at the place he called his home.

You still didn’t figure out if the place was an illusion or real. In the end, it didn’t matter.

The food was the finest you ever tasted. Steve’s private chef served the dishes, asking for your opinion.

You later found out that he, too, was a sinner and that Steve sheltered his life in return for his eternal loyalty—and lots of delicious meals.

Only hours later, you were on your way to an unknown destination. Steve didn’t give away who he wanted to taunt. Only that he wanted to give them a taste of what’s to come.

“Where are we going?”

“I promised you, we will taunt someone tonight. Please consider that you’re not ready to take revenge on them yet. But, having a little fun won’t harm anyone,” Steve laughed darkly.

His demons followed you once again, their true nature indicated only by the faint smell of sulfur clinging to them. You didn’t mind. Being around these creatures made you feel safe.

Steve was silent as you walked through a suburban neighborhood. White picket fences and cute dogs greeted you on your way to your destination.

“Tempter,” Steve called for more demons. “We need a little distraction. Do your best.”

Shadows turned into creatures with claws and sharp teeth. Monsters from nightmares to anyone but you. The real monsters in your life were people, not demons.

You followed the shadow creatures, stopping in front of a house.

“Here we are.” Steve took your hand, guiding you through the door without opening it. Another trick he had up his sleeve.

“They cannot touch you, nor can you harm them. Our purpose is to scare them, nothing else.”

You nodded, not wanting to ruin tonight’s mission. Until now, Steve has never disappointed you.

He guided you upstairs and toward a bedroom. His creatures were always one step ahead.

The door creaked open, your breath hitching in your throat, seeing your former fiancé lie next to your sister.

“Why did you bring me here?” You trembled, believing Steve, just like everyone else in your life, wanted to hurt you.

His voice was like silk when he said, “You must face the most painful betrayal before we can continue. Now watch my creatures make their life a living hell.”

Steve snapped his fingers, allowing his creatures to jump on the bed. Your sister screamed, seeing the creature rip your former fiancé’s chest open. She cried and tried to crawl away, but they wouldn’t let her. One of the creatures grabbed her ankle, dragging her back on the bed to rip her head off her neck.

You didn’t look away—couldn’t. One moment, they both screamed in terror, gurgling blood, dying the worst way possible; and the next, they woke up screaming, believing everything they endured was a nightmare.

“That, Y/N, was what we call foreshadowing.” Steve looked at your sister and former fiancé. He smirked and winked at them. None of them saw you, the creatures, or Steve. They were panting heavily, still shaking from the illusion Steve created to torture them.

“Foreshadowing.”

“Yes,” Steve confirmed. “From this night on, my creatures will torture them in their sleep, not letting them wake from the nightmare. “Every shadow will scare them, and there won’t be a moment of peace until you end them.”

“Good—” You said, determination in your voice. “You’re right. I’m not nearly strong enough to end them, but I will be soon enough.”

“That’s my Phoenix,” Steve praised while his shadows watched him with curiosity. The devil never showed much interest in humans. Only to collect their souls. “Let’s go back home. We are done here for tonight.”

“You don’t need to be afraid.” Steve walked around the large dining room in his true form. He wanted you to meet two of his most loyal creatures. “This is Cerberus.” He pointed at a huge black dog with red, glowing orbs. “And this,” he proudly patted another dog’s head, “is Vortex. My pride and our deadliest weapons in the upcoming challenge.”

“Dogs?” You knew they weren’t ordinary dogs. Their size, eyes, and the way they stood next to the devil told you as much. Hellfire ran through their veins; you were sure about it.

“Hellhounds.” Steve laughed, watching you crouch down to pat Cerberus. “This isn’t all. I have a surprise for you.”

He opened his huge, red palm, revealing the tiniest black cat you had ever seen. The tiny creature meowed loudly, and even the hellhounds kneeled in front of it.

“A kitten?” You questioned, wondering why the devil wanted you to have a pet. “Why?”

“This is a hellcat, forged in the depths of hell.” His features softened when you took a step back. “Fear not, it was made a protector.” Steve carefully placed the small creature in your hands. It felt warm and soft in your hands, and you choked out a sob. “She’s like you, a survivor. For centuries, black cats were falsely accused and killed. This last hellcat is their legacy, the one raining hellfire on your enemies.”

“She’s…” You whimpered, overwhelmed with love for this tiny creature, “so cute and tiny.”

“Shadow will grow with every battle you’ll win,” Steve said, before turning to his hellhounds. “Maybe don’t let her mess with the hellhounds too much. They are already scared of her…”