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devildom-moss · 7 months

Text

Mephisto's performance

(Mephisto x gn!MC)

(NSFW) (angst) (NSFW tags: very slight dom!top!Mephisto and bottom!MC; "office" sex, semi-public/risky, no condom, creampie, hate-fucking, "use me" dynamic, consent - but with a lot of regret so maybe dubious?, slight degradation with backhanded praise, Mephisto calling MC a whore and a slut, so slutshaming, pain, slapping, fingering light bondage, half-clothed, no orgasm for MC sorry)

(other tags: religious undertones, one-sided enemies to ?who knows?, sad/bittersweet ending)

Word Count: +2,200

To say you admired Mephistopheles was an understatement; you were absolutely smitten. Granted, he had a reputation for being a pompous asshole whose presence left a bitter taste in Lucifer’s mouth – the same mouth that warned you about spending time with the likes of Mephisto and questioned your recent attention to “a demon whose attitude and pride might be excusable if it was offset by actual wit and usefulness.”

Clearly, Lucifer either hadn’t seen the version of Mephisto that you had – the small slips in his bitter façade – or he had, and Lucifer simply refused to acknowledge it. You didn’t care what anyone else said about Mephisto. He had watched over Luke when he fell asleep in common places multiple times. As much as he protested, when you really needed him, he offered his assistance in whatever form he could – especially when it would aid Diavolo. If nothing else, Lucifer should have remembered that Mephisto was right there with Diavolo and Barbatos, tending to him and his brothers on the day they fell. You knew better. Mephisto was sweet.

He was adorable. You remembered the precious smile he had on his face while staring up at the new blossoms forming on the trees one early morning. It wasn’t the only time you had caught his face softening, entranced by some natural beauty. Mephisto still blushed when you would pay him a genuine compliment, covering his mouth with a gloved hand.

Sweet. Adorable. And so, so sexy.

Lust and affection had motivated you to pay Mephisto a visit in the RAD Newspaper Club room – another attempt to get on his good side. This time, you brought gifts to appease the bitter old demon: hot coffee and sweets that you and Luke had baked yesterday. However, the second you walked through that door, Mephisto let out an annoyed sigh.

“Why are you bothering me?” he asked, sparing you a second glance – but not a third.

“I wanted to cheer you up,” you admitted, setting your offering on his desk. “Diavolo told me that he had seen you working nonstop in preparation for the upcoming event. I figured that might be why you’ve been frowning every time I’ve seen you all week. I brought you coffee and sweets that Luke and I made.”

Part of you had an inkling that Mephisto actually enjoyed your company more than he let on. Maybe you were just clinging to a deeply engraved hope that he wanted you. Maybe you read into signs of his kindness towards you. Perhaps wishful thinking turned a two-second glance – maybe even a judgmental glare – into a longing stare. You wanted to break through his defenses if he’d let you. Well, you had certainly broken something.

Your act of kindness pushed Mephisto over the edge, and he looked up from his work and raised his voice at you. “I have too much on my plate to keep drilling this into that thick, fucking skull of yours. I don’t like you, you won’t change my mind, and that pathetic hopeful look on your face infuriates me.”

You didn’t fully believe him – as desperate as that may sound. Perhaps it was selfish, but you didn’t want to leave him alone in that room.

Mephisto waited for you to turn around and walk away, but you didn’t budge. He sighed and got to his feet. “What? Why are you still here? Why are you bringing me things hours before any of your classes even start? What do you want?”

Most classes hadn’t started yet, but if you hadn’t arrived before everyone else, you wouldn’t have been able to see Mephisto alone. Barbatos had mentioned that Mephisto was an early riser in passing once, so you figured you would find him overworking himself that morning. As for what you wanted, you wished it was more obvious to him.

“I want you to love me,” you confessed. Mephisto circled his desk so he could sandwich you between himself and the desk, blocking your path to the exit.

“How do you want me to love you? With my boot on your neck? With my fingers buried inside of you? With my hips pressed against you? What do you want? How do you expect me to love you? I could ruin you, but love?”

You shuddered. Was this a rejection or an invitation? You forced the words, and they fell out in a clumsy mess. “I don’t expect it – you loving me. I just want it, but you could ruin me instead if you wanted.”

Mephisto’s eyes widened; he retreated slightly before narrowing his eyes. “What are you saying?”

“Use me – if you really can’t love me.” Shame burned in your cheeks, but you continued. You were determined to call his bluff. “Take out your anger and hatred on my body. Do whatever you want.”

Maybe he truly hated you. Maybe he would be disgusted by your offer. Maybe he would refuse because he did love you. Or maybe he would agree to use you – to ruin you – without a trace of affection. Even then, at least you would finally get to be with him for however long you could manage to be entertaining. The possibilities ran through your head, just quick enough to fill the brief moment before Mephisto responded.

“Turn around,” he demanded. His voice was cold. In truth, you hadn’t expected him to take you up on your offer. Your heart sank as you watched Mephisto remove his tie. A low, growling sigh left him when you remained immobile. He took your arm and forced you to turn. “You offered. So, do as you’re told.”

Your voice caught in your throat. Mephisto made quick work of knotting his tie around your wrists and up your forearms, binding them behind your back. Fear washed over your body as you felt Mephisto tug your pants and underwear down to your ankles. Was this really what you wanted?

Mephisto reached over you, pressing his chest firmly against your back as he did, and pulled a bottle of lube from his top desk drawer. You didn’t question why he had it there, but you did have a question for him: “Why are you using that on me?”

The answer was obvious, but you were begging for some kind of affection from him, wishing for the words “I don’t want to hurt you” to leave his lips with enough sweetness to sate you, but they didn’t come. Instead, Mephisto removed his glove; tugged on his tie, bringing you closer; and shoved his glove into your mouth to shut you up. You felt one cool, lubricated finger plunge into you – quickly followed by a second. You bit down on his glove as he began to stretch you out.

“To answer your question, I’d be in a world of trouble if anyone found out that I hurt you. Everyone seems to think that you’re so fucking precious. Besides,” Mephisto paused, using the last word to soften the spite in his voice before he continued, “you’ll feel better if I do this first.”

You couldn’t tell if he meant that you would feel better for him or if he wanted you to feel some kind of pleasure from this too, but you hoped. However, that hope wasn’t enough to ease the heavy aching in your chest. Even through the bits of pleasure you felt when Mephisto’s long fingers curled into your body, you knew that this wasn’t how you wanted it. That truth sat rancid in your gagged mouth – somehow more unsavory than anything. Even the realization that you would die (for good) one day was less distasteful than this.

It was almost a comfort when Mephisto pulled his fingers out. You heard his pants drop before he tugged you violently towards him. Your ass was flush against him. There was a filthy relief in knowing that he was hard. At least you had aroused him a bit, then, right? You wished you could have suppressed the dirty, joyous hope you felt. Maybe he wanted you just as badly.

Mephisto entered you slowly. It almost felt intimate: the way he ran his gloved hand through your hair before tugging at it, the way his lips found your neck before it was all teeth and marks, the way his hips rocked slowly into you before he stopped holding back. He almost made this feel like affection before the poison left his mouth between panting and groans. “Not so useless anymore, are you?”

How did he know exactly how to give you a gentle touch that left you hoping before he stripped it from you? He said he didn’t want anyone to know he hurt you, so of course he would figure out how to break your heart. At least that was a pain you could never show anyone. It would live in you – and he would be the only other person who knew that such a haunting beast was hiding inside.

You choked back tears as his thrusting picked up speed and intensity, forcing your thighs against his desk repeatedly with each buck of his hips. This was going to bruise. It was just enough to slosh some of the coffee out of the cup you had brought him earlier. A small puddle pooled towards the edge of the desk until it grazed your thigh, burning for a moment before all you could feel was a numb ache – a small punishment for your foolishness.

This time, you couldn’t hold back a groan. You had tried so hard to disguise any sign of pain or pleasure, but this was too much. Your muffled noise alerted Mephisto to the mess you had both made. It was a small one with no casualties. It hadn’t even reached any of his documents. The only thing left damaged was you, and yet Mephisto dragged you back by the tie around your arms, his cock still buried in you, with an angry, “fuck.”

Did he not want you to get hurt? No.

Mephisto tugged your hair up until you were standing upright – as upright as you could be when you were still impaled on him. He took his glove out of your mouth before he forcefully bent you over towards the edge of the desk. “Lick up the mess, whore.”

You did as he told you. The coffee was still hot, and it stung on your tongue, but you were distracted by a firm slap to your ass. When you managed to clean up the mess, Mephisto brought you upright again with a rough tug and shoved his glove back into your mouth.

“There’s a good little slut,” Mephisto chuckled before he continued to fuck you – even more violently than before. He called you good, at least.

You were choking back tears when he snaked his gloved hand tenderly around your neck. Mephisto used his index finger to guide your chin up. Staring at the ceiling, with your eyes to heaven, you felt that you owed something – someone – a prayer. You wanted to thank some god that Mephisto’s hand was there around your throat – as if the slight pressure was the only thing keeping the sobs and moans inside of you. No. It wasn’t a god that you were grateful to. It was Mephisto. Even as he used you for his amusement, your desire still burned. Your love blazed steadily. Through the pain and emptiness, you still adored him. How pathetic.

Even more pathetic was the contentment you felt as Mephisto sunk his teeth into your shoulder, muffling his moans as he came inside of you. He didn’t pleasure you enough for you to cum; you got the smallest taste of it, and somehow you were content.

Mephisto was quick to pull out of you and get his pants back up. You stood there, trying to reel yourself back into your body – too slowly for Mephisto’s liking. He tugged your pants and underwear back up for you. His glove slipped from your mouth and onto the floor as you attempted to protest with a feeble, “wait.”

His cum had already started to leak out, and the feeling of it sickened you – a shameful sickness. This felt awful and wrong and disgusting, but the most resentful part of you quietly wanted him to bend you back over his desk and fill you up all over again.

Mephisto pulled you in by his tie around your arms and leaned close to your ear. “Keep it in you. I want that sensation to stick with you all day and remind you how much I despise you. Now get out of my sight.”

You felt his tie slip from around your arms. Mephisto dragged you towards the door and shoved you out into the hallway. You heard the distinct sound of the door locking behind you.

Mephisto waited for your hesitant footsteps to fade away down the hall before he sunk his teeth into the back of his ungloved hand. Tears streamed down his face as he dropped to his knees on the floor. Had he finally given you a convincing performance – persuaded you to stay away from him?

In that dim room on a dark Devildom morning, on his knees, Mephisto felt that he owed something – someone – a prayer. Unsure if he was even allowed – or who would hear it – he prayed that he had finally shown you what a monster he was. The cruel, wicked beast he housed had spit its parasitic DNA into you and waited to consume you. He was a demon, with his hands clasped so tightly together that they trembled, brought to his knees. His prayer – half-confession – found no purchase. It lived only inside of him, and even you would never know. It was a small, lenient punishment.

#mephistopheles #gn!mc #spice tier #obey me #obey me mephistopheles #I hope all the mephisto lovers will like this one even though it's kind of messed up #I feel like I have done too much bottom MC stuff now but it was necessary for this one #enjoy a nice little mid-day snack #obey me smut #mephistopheles smut #mephistopheles x reader #mephistopheles x mc

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