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elsecrytt · 2 years

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Hello. I am 🐱 anon. Here is my request.

Tomorrows my exam the 2nd hardest exam of all. Any I wanna request "Vampire!Mc×Satan"

MC actually has a hobby of drinking blood so one day reader ordered some blood from the donation box and casted a spell on themselves and likely Mammon and levi were arguing loudly so the spell went a tiny tad bit wrong. Unfortunately the bags of blood they ordered somehow were ruined so a call from the donation box came, the staff apologizing. Because of the tiny tad bit wrong spell now Mc's body will constantly hurt if they don't drink blood. Mc endured it for a while.

But Satan noticed it and Mc told Satan. Satan offered his blood. Mc started drinking Satans blood the leaned towards the bed headboard Satan taking this chance to hold mc's waist while mc is on top him and mc just couldn't stop drinking Satan's blood sure it's a bit hot and a bit metalic but it wasn't enough to stop mc from keep going. After almost 30 minutes Mc stopped the spell also wore of and when Mc looked Satan is passed out. Mc later bandages him.

DAMN you've already taken the exam by now but. Hope you did good buddy!!

There's a bunch of details here that feel a bit muddy, but I love the general idea, so let me put a bit of a spin on the setup~

Every so often Satan notices you get a bit... withdrawn. You speak a lot less, avoid raising your hand in class, don't make eye contact at all, don't initiate conversations; you're even a bit short and curt in texts, of all things.

At first he wonders if you're simply busy. Or maybe you get moody every now and then. It does seem to happen at random.

The biggest hint he gets is how you hole yourself up after a couple days of brusqueness, how once it happens in the middle of the week and you skip classes at RAD to stay locked in your room.

You won't let anyone in, even him, and Lucifer is uncharacteristically lenient about what should be a serious offense. His other brothers are busy whining every now and then about it, and like hell he's going to ask Lucifer - especially when you won't tell him what's going on yourself.

But he does work out a pattern, over time. Of course he does. It's Satan. Once he starts examining the timeline, things that had been happening around when your little recesses,,, it becomes clear.

And he feels a bit silly for not realizing it sooner. Bloody moon. Of course it would affect a vampire. Really, he's surprised he hadn't come to you asking about it sooner...

But when he approaches you about it, you always seem to find some way out of the conversation. Something to do, somewhere to go, another pressing topic to discuss.

He confronts you about it and you confess - that you don't want to talk about it. it's an uncomfortable subject. The look on your face thoroughly sells it for him...

...but Satan's never been one to leave well enough alone. It's far too obvious to him that you're suffering every time this comes along.

What's wrong? What can he do for you? Can he bring you anything? Are you hurt? Sick? He researches spells, potions, anything he can, all in the face of your stubborn refusal.

It must have something to do with blood... do you need some to drink? But you were always so well-provided-for, Diavolo would never let his precious exchange student starve.

So he researches. He investigates. As is his natural response. He looks up articles, novels even, any kind of media written or produced by actual people like you.

“It’s never the same as drinking from the source. And of course, it doesn’t need to be - any healthy blood, properly stored, CAN sustain a vampire, there’s no question about that.

"I’m not advocating for live blood draining, but the all-bagged philosophy is missing out on a crucial point of our culture and identity, and I think it’s unfair to silence…”

There’s a lot that he’d initially dismissed as the typical rankings of older generations upset by newer, more progressive mentalities taking place.

It sounded exaggerated, no one could NEED blood that much - even Beel wasn’t so picky about his source and eating method - but the more Satan learns, the more convinced he becomes.

You’re holing yourself up because the craving has struck. Bagged blood is no longer sufficient. You want it fresh, hot, and straight from the source.

As soon as the realization strikes him - perhaps as he'd come to it - his feet take him to your room in quick, hurried strides.

That closed door that had remained shut for days. You'd only texted him - or any of the other brothers - in curt, short messages.

Lucifer had instructed them not to trouble you during this time, and harsh shouts greeting any other visitors had dissuaded them; you had enough blood in there for yourself anyways, Lucifer had confirmed.

So Satan doesn't knock. He has a spell that undoes the lock silently, and twists it open as quietly as he can, darting in, closing and locking it behind him as he closes in on you.

You...

You don't look so good. At the same time, you look absolutely delectable.

Sitting with your knees to your chest, hunched over like some kind of beast, shivering, twitching.

There's bloodstains on your sheets - some of them dry, some of them fresher looking. Half-empty and some fully drained bags litter your floor.

You don't look cold. You don't even look weak.

Your fingers dig into your arms, wrapped around your legs, making little divots in your own flesh as your chest rises and falls in short pants.

The glare is expected. The way your pupils dilate, yawning wide black swallowing up your irises in the low light and then narrowing feverishly onto him like he's some sort of prey -

Hnnn. It makes him shiver.

He kneels at your bedside and says your name, only to receive a hiss.

"Do you want my blood?" Both of you know it. "You can have it. I'm right here, I came here to do this for you."

"Shut - " It hurts him to hear - your voice raw and cracked and hoarse, had you been drinking properly? " - UP, Satan. Get out."

He'll have none of that. For your sake, of course - and certainly not his, not because his blood is already flowing downwards, pooling in his gut at the predatory look in his eyes -

"No," Satan tells you, only for you to snarl at him and kick at him.

But he's a demon. He can take it.

After several moments of him getting close enough to feel the warmth of your body, you stay there, face tucked against your knees, ignoring him completely.

But you want it. He knows you have to want it... he just has to break your self-control.

The claws come out. He claws a careful line against his wrist, deep enough to draw just a trickle of blood.

You stiffen immediately. He can see your eyes, open wide and dilating, instantly seeking out the source of the scent.

"Go away," You rasp, drawing back on your mattress.

He reaches out to pet your hair, with the wrist he'd cut, and you scramble back, uncurling - exactly as he'd liked, you're panting now, breathing in the irresistible smell, catching the red that drips down in his forearm.

"Do you want it to go to waste?" His low voice asks you, and it takes everything you have not to dive forward.

You swallow hard - the dryness in your mouth only reminds you how parched you are, how hungry.

How nothing could sate your hunger like this could -

No. No, no. You don't need this. You don't.

Satan's curious. Maybe he even wants to help you. He doesn't know what feeding does to the victim, or to the vampire, when it's done live. You can't do this to him.

And clenches his hand, like the clever little prick he is, causing more blood to trickle out.

You're - you're so hungry. Achingly.

It's empty, like a hole in your stomach, a yearning that hollows you out, your throat is so dry, and the aroma that floods your senses as he waves his meal in your face -

Without your permission, your hands dart out, clutching at his fingers and drawing his blooding wrist towards you.

But he... what if he... if he thinks -

The taste of his blood hits your tongue. It's warm, flowing savory over your tongue like juices running from a fine, tender steak.

It's so good. It's so fucking good.

You'd been starving, ravenous, and it floods your senses, filling your mouth as you wrap your lips around his cut.

Satan can learn his lesson like a big boy. He's a grown up demon. He'll be alright.

He offered... you drink, lap at it more and more, swallowing tiny drops that burst with flavor and make your mouth water even as you draw more from him.

You deserve this. You deserve him. You deserve to have as much of him as you want, taste all that you want.

Satan catches your eyes, looking up at his as your mouth closes over his wrist. Pupils blown wide in want, gaze full of fevered desire as he feels you tense as you stare him down.

There's a heat that blooms on his cheeks. His gaze locked in yours, transfixed, as the throb in his arm grows heavier, until he can feel it in his chest, and lower, lower...

Your lips pursing against his skin as you suck at him, burning hot, that lurid look you give him when you pull away with a pop, that pretty mouth just barely parted; he's never seen anything so beautiful.

How soft those lips had been, how nicely they'd pressed against him, how good they'd feel around his -

Soon, his lips are parted and panting, too.

You drink him in one further moment; his gorgeous features, flushed cheeks, golden hair and pretty, pale skin bobbing over his throat.

And then you strike.

Diving in for his throat, latching on as you launch yourself onto him, uncaring of where or what position you end up in.

Satan catches you, arms wrapping around your waist, shifting you into a straddling position as he turns you both around so he can rest his back against your bedframe and remain upright while you drink.

The pinch of teeth against his neck flares in pain, but the squirm of your tongue distracts him, the sound of your breath heavy, close to his ear, dominating his awareness.

You don't hold anything back. You're so hungry. He tastes so good.

His skin is warm, supple, yielding beneath you, blood pouring so easily right into the empty hole of your stomach.

It tastes good it's so good you drink and drink and it'll never be enough.

This is yours. It's all yours. This soft skin, salty, the pulse that dances with your lips like a kiss, the vibrations through his throat as he moans.

He wants you. He's yours. Satan is all yours yours yours you can have all of him -

"Ah - ahhhh... hnng, were you... that hungry...?"

You purr against him with another heavy swallow. It's leaking out your mouth, sticky, and you want to lap up every drop of it but you're just so hungry, so empty, and it's all you can do to press into his wound to send blood surging through faster.

Savory and delectable, sweetened by the heat of lust, by the aching throb you can feel between his legs against your knee; not a drop, not a drop can go to waste, it belongs to you.

The thought prompts you to bite down even harder, and he moans again. His neck aches in the best way, in the hot, fevered euphoria of being devoured with a passion.

You feel more blood rush into your mouth, and the delicious tremble of his moans, and you eat it all up, like you deserve.

It's like ambrosia on your lips. You'll never give this up.

Satan lays there, compliant, obedient, subject to a strange bliss he'd never known. Light and airy, radiating through his whole body with a delicate tickle, as if his veins were bubbling champagne.

There's no pain at his neck, only the warmth of you against him, nursing like a kitten.

Suckling gently at his neck in time with the pulse of his cock, throbbing distantly between his legs. The lust that soars through him is strong, but sedated, as the pleasure overcomes him in gentle waves.

There's no feeling like it. Has he even cum yet? It feels like a climax in slow motion, the delicious release warming him as you take your fill of him.

He swears he feels you whisper mine against his neck, your fingers curling ownership into his chest, legs locking on either side of him.

This was how hungry you were? How much you needed this?

A pinch against his neck, a hard suck, as you greedily draw another mouthful from him, and another rush of ecstasy radiates through his flesh.

This was how much you need him?

Golden lashes flutter against pink cheeks as he closes his eyes, letting his head rest against your soft hair.

He lets his arms rest around you, weakly; maybe if he does, you'll realize he wants you close, too? That he's yours, that he'd give anything he had to give, if only he knew you wanted it?

A gentle sigh of pure relief, of comfort and bliss, brushes against the bare skin of his neck, and Satan smiles.

You probably know already anyways.

#obey me #satan #satan x reader #lemon flavored #gn reader #reader is also a vampire #ambiguous reader #long post

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elsecrytt · 2 years

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well now I'M thinking about your cat/witch mc x satan thing and i know u usually go the smut route but i've got a fluff thing stuck in my head. what if MC is trying desperately to get out of something. yes they could morph into a cat like usual but if they have to process the fact that cat treats smell good in their human brain ONE MORE TIME they're going to DIE. so they sort of put their arms around satan's neck - it's allowed bc at this point they've started dancing around "ok. is this more than a deal oh fuck" - and nuzzling up to his jaw not unlike a cat would...

satan is just like "hng-" trying not to combust because 1) this isn't in cat form MC ? wtf?? but 2) oh is he catching feelings.....?

but then he remembers he's in vehement denial and his face goes flat and he's like "it's still your turn to do the dishes MC"

MC immediately pushes off of him. "DAMMIT"

I love the fact that. You could always just win. You could take the nuclear option. Turn into a cat and it's all over for him. What's he gonna do, say no? He turns into your cooing, smiling little bitch making stupid noises and going "Here, kitty~" in an instant.

But no. That ABSOLUTELY came into my mind like "would you EAT cat food tho??" and just skdhlkhfg damn. Satan better not expect you to shit in a box, either.

And to be fair, you should be taking care of human functions in human form. Satan wants to pretend he's living with his girlfriend, not a cat sdkfhlgkh

But just hnnnnng yes yES YESSSSS that slowburn tension of those little moments,,,

He's had you sat in his lap purring up a storm as he strokes you a hundred times before, the warmth is almost familiar when you straddle him, press yourself close, your hair is so soft, so nice,

Except this is the weight of a person and not a cat and Satan knows this gentle, affectionate feeling is reserved for cats alone so he snaps himself right out of happiness like a dog on a leash and tells you to get up and do your laundry like you promised you would.

Just because you don't have to wear clothes most of the time doesn't mean he's going to wash your panties for you. He's your roommate, you had an agreement.

Of course, one day, those panties are going to start looking different, when he's waking up from a cold sweat, rock hard, trying to pretend to himself he just was dreaming of you because you're attractive

because he sees you every day, the only other people he spends so much time with are his brothers, obviously you're just a target for his lust

and he can smell it he can smell your arousal on those panties and before he knows it one hand is stroking himself and the other is bringing that soft cotton to his face and his demonic instincts are howling for him to -

HA I MADE IT HORNY ANYWAYS!!!

#obey me #satan #lemon flavored #satan x reader #cat witch AU #thats what ill call it

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