#remained unbroken longer than expected tbh

[bjy-on-ao3]

Cat-Scratch Fever

(You can find a link to the AO3 version of this, as well as the rest of my fics on the ‘Masterlist’ section of the blog.)

As someone who has very short nails and can’t stand them getting long, I do wonder how people get things done with long nails, tbh. That aside, this was spawned from staring too long at Satan’s ‘Why Do People Love Cats’ and seeing that his nails are a decent length. (Technically I think even Beel’s are also longer, but idk if it’s just the same for all the brothers and I’m very blind.) I am also a big fan of ‘claws’ on demons/etc.

(Also for those who don’t know ‘Cat-Scratch Fever’ is both supposedly a real thing, as well as a Ted Nugent song, but this is named mostly for the cat-pun.)

Cat-Scratch Fever (F!Reader/Satan)

Tags/Warnings Mildly Dubious Consent, Scratching, Sadism, Masochism, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rough S*x, Creampie

Summary Reader makes a passing comment about Satan’s nails. Satan feels offended and decides to punish them in a way he deems suits the offense.  

------------------------------------------------------------------

You had innocently commented about Satan's nails earlier that day, genuinely curious how he managed to get anything done with them so long. “Why bother to keep them so long? Don’t they get in the way?” You had quipped about his green-painted claws. 

Unfortunately for you - or perhaps, fortunately, based on who you asked - the Avatar of Wrath had taken your offhanded comment as a slight, though also as an opportunity. When it came down to it, many things made Satan cross, even little things, but he was adept at keeping his wrath hidden. Along with his temper, Satan possessed a vindictive streak that likely wouldn’t have been a surprise to learn about. Ordinarily, he might pay back someone for inciting his ire in a manner purely for his amusement, but he had a sense this time it might be in your favor as well. At least depending on your capacity for pain. 

That afternoon, he asked you to his room and you came willingly, having no reason to be suspicious of the invitation. You enjoyed your time with Satan, even when you considered his tendency toward anger. Despite his wrathful nature, you found him far quieter and pleasant to be around than most inhabitants of the Devildom. That was to say nothing of your delight at having access to the vast collection of books he kept for himself in his bedroom. But Satan wasn't of a mind to let you indulge in his tomes - not today at least. No, he was here to teach you the more fun uses of his long nails.

He cut to the chase quickly after closing his door behind you with a ‘click’. Within seconds, he drew you securely into his arms, one hand clutching at your face harshly, fingers digging into your jaw. Instantly you felt your face flush hotly, quickly flustered by the closeness.  "Satan, what's gotten into-"

"Shhh," he hushed you. "You wanted to know why I keep my nails long." He reminded you matter-of-factly, green eyes boring into yours. He pressed his nails lightly into your skin as he spoke, a sensation that tickled and stung. "I'm going to show you. And I’m going to teach you why you shouldn’t question someone else’s appearance.”

An undercurrent of anger trickled into his voice and you realized, somehow, your comment from before must have irked him. While you weren’t sure what he was going to show you exactly, you gleaned from his words and tone you were going to be punished for the slight against him. You hadn’t thought what you said would offend Satan, but there was no taking it back now.

You started to babble an apology - or perhaps an excuse - but his grip strengthened and you stopped, wincing as the manicured tips of his nails pricked your skin. Rendered silent from his command and grasp, you waited with bated breath for whatever he was plotting. You knew that if you wanted, you could stop him with a single word, but part of you wanted to find out what Satan was going to show you. A part bold enough - or stupid enough - to risk the temper of a demon second only to Lucifer in sadism.

A small smirk quirked Satan’s lips at your resignment to his whims. It seemed you were willing to make amends by receiving his punishment and he was quite pleased. He inclined his head toward your lips slowly, studying your face. You watched him as intently as he watched you, your eyes at first locked with his but flickering to his lips the closer he came. Unconsciously, your lips parted as Satan’s brushed them, the moment tense, like a rubber band, stretched near its breaking point.

When Satan’s lips met yours, there was no gentleness, only an overwhelming blaze of dominance and fervor. His nails scraped cruelly against your skin in complement to his rough kiss. At the sting a yelp rang out from you, muffled by his lips. Satan took advantage of your mouth opening wider, slipping his tongue past your lips and forcing your tongue to twine with his. Despite the sharp prick of his nails, a low groan followed your yelp and your eyes slipped shut.

Satan’s other hand swept up, outlining your jaw in a ticklish, almost tender fashion before moving back down your neck and carving an angry trail into your skin. You whimpered at the newest burn, though a rush of heat of a different sort rose to dull the pain. Your neck and face felt far too hot and despite being freed from Satan’s embrace you remained pressed against him. 

The callous fingers clawing at your neck moved away in favor of the hem of your shirt and slipped beneath it.They smoothed up your back, all gentle fingertip. The first wave of pain had begun to ebb and you had started to grow used to Satan’s harsh hold on your jaw when his other hand reached the nape of your neck. Jolts of hot pain rolled over your skin again as Satan dragged his nails down your back, marking up even more of your skin.

You arched away from the sting, though you had nowhere to go, already pressed flushed against Satan. You succeeded only in pushing yourself more firmly against him. He groaned, devouring the string of whines that fled your lips at the burning touch of his nails. A single smooth roll of his hips let you feel just how excited your body and pain had made him. The suggestive motion was enough to send a shiver down your spine that was much more pleasurable than the ache of his scratches.

The hand on your back pressed flat against the mistreated skin, using the leverage to steer you somewhere. That somewhere turned out to be his bed, your feet stumbling over a few books stacked beside it. Your eyes popped open when he sat down, pulling you with him and dragging you into his lap until you were straddling him. The kiss was broken, but your faces remained dangerously close. Close enough for you to be both appreciative and fearful of the predatory, mischievous gleam in his eyes.

Satan’s sadism was no secret - none of the brothers did much to hide or deny their frightening sides. Yet the swirl of perverse pleasure in Satan’s eyes was something new. You knew he got a kick out of tormenting Lucifer or pulling pranks, but the looks he had then were nothing quite so fierce and intense as what you were looking into.

His bruising grip on your jaw dropped, both hands reaching to the bottom of your shirt and pulling it up. Heart racing and skin burning, you lifted your arms to let him tug it over your head and toss it away. His eyes greedily trailed over your skin, eyeing the expanse unmarred by his touch. He would need to fix that. Pushing one hand into the small of your back and forcing you to bow toward him, he bent his lips to the marks he had already left, nipping and kissing. His other hand tended to your unbroken skin, quickly resolving the lack of angry marks along your torso and stomach.

You hissed out a string of curses, fisting your fingers in his sweater, desperate to ground yourself against the pain that somehow was beginning to make your skin burn and buzz in some strange bliss. The warmth of his mouth on your abused skin made the pain white-hot at first but became more soothing the longer he lapped at it. Still, it wasn’t enough to block out the new pain blossoming across your abdomen. “Aa, Satan, fuck, please...” you whimpered, voice cracking in your plea 

You weren’t sure what you were pleading for. You didn’t know whether you wanted him to stop or hurt you more until you were half-delirious. You were utterly torn and confused. Heat washed over your lower body in a primal surge amidst the throbbing pain, gathering especially strongly at the apex of your thighs. Satan was no fool and could tell the difference between the angry color his nails left behind and the pleasant flush of arousal on your skin. The knowledge only more firmly fixed the impish smile on his lips.

“Begging won’t do any good,” he denied, skating his lips over one of your breasts in another deceptively light touch. “There isn’t any talking your way out. Besides, you look so irresistible like this.”

His lips wrapped around one nipple, sucking roughly and scraping his teeth over it. You cried out, the sound strangled and pathetic. He treated the other nipple in the same way and you sucked in a desperate breath. The beat of your heart pounded ruthlessly, every stinging scratch throbbing in time with it. Your cunt pulsed with it, too, a much more pleasurable sensation than your burning skin. 

You tried biting down on your lip to stifle your whimpers and gasps as if you might quiet the pain with them. Satan noticed quickly, looking up at your face from beneath hooded eyes alight with his wrath and hunger. “Open up, I want to hear you,” he demanded, prising your lip from your teeth with his thumb until your mouth hung open again.

His hand left your back, looping around to your waistband and unbuttoning your pants, pulling them down. Keeping you from catching your lip between your teeth again, he dipped a hand into your panties and felt your body tense. He didn’t claw at your soft, slippery folds as your pain addled mind expected,  instead using his nails to drag teasingly over the sensitive skin. A shudder ran down your back and the noise that drifted from your lips was an erotic blend, combining the pleasure of his touch and the ache of your sore skin. One finger teased your slit - dripping despite the lingering ripples of pains wracking your body.

“Enjoying your punishment, hmm? You’re so wet,” Satan teased.

Your whimpers of pain morphed gradually into more pleasured ones, interrupted by longer, lower moans as he eased two fingers into you. His thumb reached up to your clit, rubbing firm circles over it in time with the stroke of his curled fingers. Satisfied you wouldn’t try to quiet yourself again, his thumb left your lips and returned to savaging your body. Added to the rising swell of pleasure the fingers in your cunt were pulling from you, the pain of his nails biting into your skin was something else entirely. It still stung, making you whine and gasp, but the uncomfortable edge was dulled, the remainder accentuating the pleasure building inside you.

Satan’s attention was rapt on your face again, studying each tiny expression, your features twisting between bliss and torment. The sight made his dick twitch, already hard and longing to be released from the confines of his pants. He pushed away the impatient voice in the back of his mind that urged him to be done with the foreplay. To say the idea of stuffing you with his cock and raking his nails across your skin while buried inside you was enticing would have been an understatement. But he was thoroughly enjoying the moment at hand as well. 

You writhed against the contrasting feelings, your body beginning to quake as he fucked you on his fingers and dug his nails into your back. Your cunt bore down more and more around his fingers, each time sending a jolt through you that left you short of breath. “Fuck, it hurts,” you panted out, body drawn taut, the warring sensations threatening to tear you apart.

“Hm, have you had enough then? Learned your lesson?” Satan mused coyly, though he had no real intention of letting you go just yet. Your lesson was learned when he decided it was and no sooner

“N-no, don’t stop, please, all of it. Keep going,” you begged between labored breaths and whimpers,

Satan’s brows quirked curiously, pleasantly surprised by how well you were taking to his punishment. His cock ached, straining against his pants at your breathy pleas. The nagging, greedy voice from before continued to repeat its demands fitfully, louder by the second and making his blood roil. But Satan’s patience and will was greater than that.

He pumped his fingers steadily into your dripping cunt, more wetness gathering around them, rubbing a little harder on your clit. His nails shifted from digging into your skin to teasingly skimming the lurid marks. Among your myriad whimpers and moans, your voice pitched higher, each sound shorter and breathier. The pulse of your cunt grew in frequency, squeezing him tightly until you felt fit to burst.

You were passingly amazed Satan was able to bring you to the peak of bliss despite inflicting so much pain, but there was little room for coherent thought for long. All you could truly focus on was the twin pulse of pain and pleasure, liquid heat building in your core higher, higher, and higher.

When Satan pulled his fingers away from your swollen folds at the precipice of your orgasm, it was a pain much deeper and stinging than the sharp, hard touch of his nails. It was a loss, an ache bone-deep that made you whine, high-pitched and pitiful. “Satan, please, please,” you chanted almost incoherently, slumping against his shoulder and burying your face in his neck.

You ground your hips against his, desperate to gain back the bliss that had been overwhelming the pain and turning it into a pleasant buzz. Satan smirked, the hand on your back falling still and holding you to him tightly while he raised the other coated in your slick to his lips. He cleaned his fingers diligently, a lewd sucking sound and a ‘pop’ drawing your attention. Already trembling in his lap, a more violent shudder worked its way through you at his bawdy display. “What did I say about begging?” He rumbled, meeting your gaze wolfishly.

Your mouth opened and closed several times as you fought your muddled brain for words. “But I-” you paused - if he didn’t want you to beg, what did he want? “I’m sorry… for questioning your nails,” you mumbled. You weren‘t sure if an apology was what Satan desired, but it was worth a try.

Satan’s simper grew, pleased with your words. “Mmm, I don’t think saying you’re sorry is enough. You’ll need to prove to me you’re sorry,” he said, adjusting you in his lap. 

Your breath caught in your throat and your drumming heart skipped a beat as he moved his hands to his belt, unbuckling it and undoing his pants, You swallowed hard at the sight of his cock as he pulled it from his boxers, stiff and eagerly oozing pre-cum from the swollen head. With a flick of his wrist, he pulled your panties away, proceeding to scissor his fingers between your lips and spread you open for him. “Show me how sorry you are and scream for me, hmm?” He purred, teasing your entrance with the head of his dick.

Without further preamble, Satan thrust up into your heat, half burying himself in one stroke. His hands snaked to the curve of your hips, the familiar burn of his nails digging into your skin returning as he forced you to take more of his cock. You let out a guttural groan when he bottomed out, your hips flush, and a similar sound escaped Satan. He nipped at your earlobe roughly, grinding himself against you in a sloppy circle, letting you feel all of him, hot and hard and unrelenting.

He abandoned the smaller, gentler motion, drawing back and lifting you out of his lap, only to slam back home and pull you down hard. Each cruel thrust ached but you couldn’t deny how good it felt as well. Your cunt only reinforced the feeling, hugging him greedily, as if unwilling to let him go. You tried to match his pace, rocking your hips into his and failing to match his vigor, but doing enough to angle his cock just so that when he pushed back inside it made your legs weak.

The same sensation Satan had wrung from you before with his fingers was blooming again, even more intense from the orgasm abandoned beforehand and the full feeling of his cock driving into you. You felt as if you might combust at any moment and burn down in a roaring blaze of bliss. You couldn’t help but do as Satan had asked, mouth dropping open wide as you rode him, a lewd chorus erupting from your lips.

With each thrust, your shouts of pleasure grew, higher and more urgent. When, at last, you reached the edge of ecstasy and tumbled past it, your screams reached a height that made your throat feel raw. Satan’s name rolled off your tongue many times without hesitation and the rhythm of your hips stuttered, any coherence and focus dwindling. Satan’s pace didn’t slow, however, though you thought you heard a sound like a growl come from him. 

He bucked his hips harder, the delicious ache making you whimper even as you came back down from your orgasm. But Satan wasn’t nearly done with you and each harsh push back inside sent aftershocks through you, each their own kind of pain in your post-orgasmic sensitivity. “Satan, aa, I can’t take anymore,” you moaned, leaning and tucking your face into his neck again and clamping down on his shoulders with both hands.

  Had Satan been feeling merciful, he might have let you off then, but he was determined to see your ‘punishment’ through, as well as chase his own climax. He mouthed at your neck for a moment, littering it with sharp bites before ghosting his lips along your ear. “I thought you were sorry? You’ll have to take a little more if you want me to forgive you,” he said, his voice a lusty hush.

You whined in answer but didn’t speak out against your treatment further. Satan moved one hand from your hips, trailing it between your legs as you continued to ride him despite your protests. When the pads of his fingers slipped across your clit, the fire in your belly was reignited, cresting quickly toward another crescendo. Your lewd sounds had become weak, airy, and cracked, inciting Satan to pick up his pace, feeling his release approaching.

“Cum for me again and I’ll forgive you,” he promised, the rock of his hips beginning to stutter, though their press remained hard and merciless.

You whimpered his name, breath hitching as your painful pleasure reached a fever pitch and exploded. Your cunt fluttered around him frantically, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes as the second orgasm overtook you. Finally urged to his limit as well, Satan followed after several hard thrusts. The nails of the hand on your hip dug in the most cruelly yet and one of your moans twisted into a strangled yelp. He spilled into you in long, hot pumps, groaning your name. Then all was still and silent.

Your brain felt completely fried, body tingling and aching from the mixture of torment and euphoria. You weren’t sure where each began and the other ended, each beat of your heart making your body throb. Your breathing was labored, short, and beside your ear, so was Satan’s. “Good girl,” he breathed tiredly, a husky tone lingering in his voice.

Withdrawing from you, Satan didn’t let go, lying back and pulling you with him so you were splayed across his chest. You were too exhausted to complain or try to move. “Think before you speak next time, hmm?” Satan began.

You nodded weakly against his skin but didn’t say a word, trying to catch your breath and waiting for your pulse to stop racing. “Or I might have to punish you again.”

The ultimatum made you shudder against him. A part of you wasn’t sure if more punishment was a bad thing or not.

#obey me satan #om satan #shall we date satan #shall we date obey me #swd om #obey me #writing #fanfic #ao3 #archive of our own #tw: dubious consent