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thehouseoflamentation · 2 years

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Imagine the phrase 'Bite Me!' having a different meaning in devildom culture than in human's, more along a demand to be 'claimed' by them rather than telling them to piss off. Imagine telling Satan this in the middle of a fight and next thing you know are pinned in a angry make-out session against the bookshelves. Or, at RAD, getting angry at some demon and as soon you say 'Bite Me!', the hallway gets flooded and everyone else is washed away (and killed) as Admiral Levi demands an explanation.

[Started writing it. Had a breakdown. Went feral. Enjoy.

Grinding, Penetration, semi-public, dom!reader, dom!Satan, sub!reader, sub!satan, reader is AFAB but no pronouns are used (just you/your), use of slut/whore/kitten/etc. as dirty talk on both sides,,, switches up in here babes

Also heads up it is long. VERY long. I am not joking with the long post tag.]

It's been fifteen minutes, and Satan is still arguing with you about the answer to number five in Classic Devildom Literature.

"I'm telling you!" Satan repeats, louder this time, impassioned, "There's nuances here that you don't understand - the author might have been human, but she was a witch who consorted heavily with demons. This passage is meant to convey-"

You slam your hands down on the desk to shut him up. You don't even care about silence in the library anymore. No one's around.

"Bite! Me!" You snarl, shoving the books on the tabletop towards him.

A flash of moment, faster than you can process, and suddenly there's warmth in front of you, a scrape against the meat of your shoulder, the tender pressure that builds and swells into sharp relief, like a muscle being stretched -

He - He bit - Satan!

And before the words can escape your lips, he captures them with is own, the faint iron of your own blood lingering still in his mouth.

There's a stinging on your shoulder, not quite painful, but exposed, like wet skin against hot air.

You claw at him a moment, but his tongue darts at your lips, a hand on your chin coaxing your jaw open so he can slip in.

The little shit. You bite down on his tongue, hard, and watch in satisfaction as he pulls back, strands of blood-stained saliva stringing between his tongue and your lips.

His cock presses hard up against you, backed up against the bookshelf as you are. Satan's eyes are bright, wild with desire, and you can feel his heart pounding even past his clothing.

"I didn't think you'd want to do this here and now... but you know I'd always be ready for you, right?"

Ready for you? Something surges in your chest. Between your legs.

"You were hard the whole time we were arguing?"

It's almost freeing to say - your frustrations melts away, evaporating in the heat of his eyes on yours, a predator's fevered gaze devoid of malice.

"Don't pretend you didn't know," Satan purrs, leaning in to kiss at the bite mark in your shoulder, "You asked for it."

The urge to grind against him is overwhelming, nagging, but...

"You know that's a rhetorical thing, right? Bite me doesn't literally mean that I want you to put your mouth on my body."

His face looks flushed. He cannot be embarrassed about this.

"I - I thought you - " He avoids your gaze. "Bites like that, they're... for mating."

"And?" You raise a brow at him, fingers tapping impatiently against his chest.

Satan licks his lips, "Lust demons can do it at will, but all demons can secrete aphrodisiacs when they intend to take a mate. Usually in the form of saliva... or venom."

You'd been annoyed at him earlier, too - it hadn't just gone away. Son of a -

"Bitch!" You hiss, feeling the heat pooling at your core. It's his stupid venom and it's working.

Running your eyes over his handsome form, the beautiful curve of his face, his fair lips and elegant nose -

"Allow me," He pants, "To make it up to you."

Oh no he doesn't.

With a swift shove, you send him stumbling back towards the table, and Satan allows it, because you pursue him the whole way, pinning his ass to the desk, letting him grind up against you even as he reaches back to grasp the desk for support.

Your hand comes up to thread fingers in his hair, brushing in warning.

"You'll make it up to me now," You say, without wasting a second.

"Beg."

Pupils dilate wildly with lust as Satan wails out a please, in the middle of the quiet library, while you press your hips into his.

You shove his jacket off his shoulders. Tug his sweater up and over his head while he's still speaking.

"Please - Please let me - " (it gets a bit muffled but you think you can hear a master in there) " - let me fuck you, please, I can make you feel so good, I swear - "

Wrenching his cock from underneath his pants - fuck, it's hot, throbbing, swollen hard in your hand.

"If you're done moaning like a whore," You purr, giving him a squeeze, getting another moan for your trouble, "Did you think you were going to fuck me like some common animal? You think you can just stick it in, no prep, is that it?"

He almost could. You're so wet at this point, but your cunt pulses hot and sore with eager need.

Satan shakes his head, he doesn't even speak - you feel long, nimble fingers play into your pants, under your panties, a single digit slipping over your slit -

Lurching forward, he gives something like a growl and a moan both at once, mouth wide open as it to devour, pressing himself into your chest. He'd be pinning you again if it weren't for the twist you give his cock.

Lurid green eyes stare up at you from beneath gold kissed lashes, glittering with need not unlike the sparks he works against your clit.

He works his middle finger against your entrance, slipping in without resistance, prizing a shuddering breath or two from you.

You want me too, Satan is too much of a gentleman to say. You want me so bad you could fuck yourself on my cock right now, if you weren't so incensed.

He doesn't say it, but he thinks it, and you can tell it already - with your other hand you claw marks against his exposed chest, tug his trousers even further down, leaving him nigh naked against the table in the middle of the library.

"Faster, you half-dressed whore," You hiss, "Don't make me wait."

Two fingers, swift, as easy as the first, and then three, pumping in and out for brief moments while you lean in hard enough to make him bend backward over the table, stroking his cock, thumbing his head carelessly as he groans.

You feel shivers building, the quake of pleasure gathering itself in your cunt when you snatch his hand and pull it back.

Satan meets your eyes this time as he licks his fingers, shirtless, shameless, fair hair and skin almost glowing in the bright study lights.

"You want to put your cock in me, you dirty little slut?"

He does. You both know he does.

"Please."

"Ready to fuck me in the library like a bitch in heat, are you?" He is, he is, your cunt is throbbing with the knowledge and the delicious stretch of his lean chest and abs bared to you, "Tell me how bad you want it."

His cheeks go pink but his cock is nearly twitching in your fingers.

“I’ll die.” Satan blurts out, staring at you like you are an oasis and he has been wading through a desert for an eternity, "If I can't put my cock in you right now I'll die, please, I'm begging you."

He's tearful, shuddering, as if sick with a fever. And the cure is in your cunt. Hehe.

“Cute,” You say, rubbing your thumb over the head of his cock, “But a bit dramatic. Points off for that.”

The groan he makes is choked, half-sobbing as your hand lets him loose, as you work your pants down.

"Please, please, I'll do anything you want, I swear it - "

"You'll already do anything I want, Satan," You purr at him, an irresistible noise that makes his heart quake in want, "Give me something more compelling."

Unintentionally, his hips buck forward, desperate for even a hint of friction.

He can smell you. He knows what he did to you, too, how much the lust must be building. Your heartbeat pounds as loud in his hears as his.

But you're asking for more. Of him, of Satan. How could he possibly deny you?

"I can make you feel so good," His voice is low, throaty; he watches you shiver at the sound of it, "If you let me, I'll make you cum your fucking brains out."

"Yeah?" You rock your hips against him, just once, brief, sweet torment to you both, "Then we'd both be dumb whores fucking in the library. Have you forgotten where we were?"

Entirely.

"I don't give a shit." He nearly hisses, "Please - please - I swear, you won't regret it - "

Satan can't stop his other hand that darts out to grasp you by your hips, pull you into him again; you groan at the contact, cunt dripping all over him.

"Slut," You accuse, breathless, "You brainless little bitch."

A hand in his hair, and another guiding his cock upright, fingers trembling with anticipation as he can feel your pussy quivering above him, is all the confirmation he needs.

"Your little bitch," agrees Satan, lifting you by your thighs up against him, "I'll be your fucktoy, so please, use me."

He scoots himself back to sit up on the table, settling your legs to straddling him on either side, opened wide to let his cock flop up against you.

You moan, clenching your hand in his hair, and he knows he's done right, the swell of arousal pulsing in his dick.

Even when your hand rubs him against your cunt, he doesn't complain.

You burn against him, every touch seems to send the pulse in his cock alight like a live wire, he has to clutch at you, desperately, leaving marks in your thighs to stop himself from fucking into you - he'd agreed to be your toy, after all.

As long as you use him, he can bear it. Probably.

The fingers stroking him say otherwise. "You did," You nearly moan, leaning forward to laugh in his ear, "You whipped your dick out in the library... you're really going to fuck me here, aren't you?"

"Please," The word feels lost to him now, devoid entirely of meaning, a filler noise, "Please, if you'll let me."

Your hand, soft, hot, deliciously slippery with his own precum, stroking so smooth and so fast, drawing pleasure along his cock, more and more of it.

"Nnnnnhhh," the vocalizations hum through his throat, "Hhh - ah! -haaaaaaahhhh..."

"Is this how you sound when you touch yourself?" Satan hears you ask, distantly, beyond the oncoming swell you diligently draw out of him with each pump of his cock, "You hum and whimper and whine like this when you jerk your pretty cock, you whore?"

He can barely choke out a whimper in response, bucking his hips presses him forward, just a bump against your clit, and you nearly shriek back at him.

"Fuck!" It's too hard, just like the delicious press of his fingertips into your hips.

You grind in again, feeling the pleasure well where your clit rubs up against him, slick and swollen, flesh against flesh; fuck, fuck, it's so good - another press, harder, harder, and it's just not enough, cunt clenching and thighs shaking your body screams, more, more -

And you watch him because how couldn't you; he's so fucking gorgeous while he loses his mind trying to stay still while you barely fuck him.

Each grind leaves your legs trembling but you watch his breathing speed up, choke up, hear his noises trembling in his chest, gasping and whining and finally nearly sobbing in pleasure as you fuck his cock.

"Nnnn - nnnnnh - ahhh, fuck - f-fuck - ahhh! - " He cries between sounds, sounding every bit the wanton, and it's the show he makes with those perfect parted lips and glorious, heaving chest that keeps you from shoving yourself straight onto his dick.

Fuck, you want him, you want him so bad your cunt is fucking throbbing, madly, your hands clutch at him just so you don't throw them in frustration as you hold yourself still for his noises.

"What's that?" You heave, chuckling until your next rut brings the head of his cock in a flush slide against your clit; you still manage to say, "Fucked you completely - ah, hhn - brainless, have I?"

God, his face. He's so fucking beautiful, so gone, all his eyes can focus on are you and his hands shake with his obedience, but Satan doesn't pounce.

"My," You pant, pressing yourself hard against him, until he starts to babble, "My mindless little fucktoy, fuck, you're so good - so - so good for me-"

He's completely incoherent now, blinking tears that streak down his perfect face, and you could stare at it for hours now, how his eyes still try to catch yours even when he speaks nonsense.

"AH! nnn - ahhnnn nnnnhhhh - nnnnnn," Satan's mouth stays wide, panting, with your next pair of grinds, but he almost manages - "nnn y-you - nnnhhh - ghhgh - nuhhh - nya - "

Oh, what was that?

You pull back, you snatch your hand away from his dick that instant, and tug him in by the hair as wild emerald eyes search your with frantic need.

"Repeat that." It's not like he was completely lost, otherwise he'd have started fucking you already.

But it takes him a moment, and it's not even clear if he knows what you're on about - "Y-you," he almost seems to test, and babbles through the rest clumsily, "nnnng - gggh - nuh -"

"Nya~" You almost leer at him, and there's enough left in him to turn bright red as you laugh.

"Go on, say it again!" Clutching at his cock, you command him, "Meow for me. Do it! Do it, you slut!"

The rise and fall of his chest enraptures you, how he's barely holding back from bucking into your hand, helpless and full of desperate energy.

Satan lurches forward, lips half-parted as he brings his face close to yours, heavy breaths ghosting over your cheek as those enchanting eyes water, and his desire couldn't be more obvious:

It's written in those vivid green eyes, in his movements, so plainly; he wants a kiss.

"Nnn," He mumbles, "N...nya..."

Giddy with your victory, you lunge in to devour him, only to find his kiss just as desperate; a smear of pressing lips, his mouth opening wide for you as he salivates for you, tongue darting in to taste, to press into your cheek, to weave against your own, full of frenetic energy.

When you draw back, he whimpers, he's so fucking cute, your hand on his face clenches, digging tightly into soft skin and Satan leans into it.

"N-nya?" He manages in a breathless whimper, and when you peck him and pull back again he sobs out another.

"Nnnnh - nya, nya, nyaaa ahhhh - "

"It's okay, kitty," You whisper to him wickedly, "You keep meowing, I'll give you what you want."

You let his cock rest against you, and curl your hand around it at the base, squeezing tightly and drawing your hand all the way up in exactly the way you know he loves.

"Nya... nya, nya.... nya..." Satan whines in time with your strokes.

Beneath you, his legs tense, his hands squeezing, kneading the meat of your hips just hard enough to make you shiver.

"You like that?" You kiss the corner of his mouth, his cheek, to murmur in his ear.

Mindlessly his mouth is open, mewling, and his tongue draws along your cheek in an inexplicably sweet gesture that makes you laugh.

"You wanna cum, kitty? Is that what you need?"

You feel him hum, "Nya - nya!" completely devoid of dignity, bucking into your hand in need.

Each noise gets higher, more drawn out, a litany that pleads in sound alone, trembling with his frame at the approaching climax.

A heat seizes you like a fever, the sounds he makes warbling through you, thrumming in your chest, between your legs, fuck, fuck, he's so beautiful like this.

Distantly you hear a shift, someone in faraway book stacks, but you're so far past caring.

If anything, you jerk him harder, make him more louder, more wanton than you've ever heard him. It's intoxicating.

"My cute little kitty slut, begging to cum in the middle of the library." You purr to him.

"Nnn, nya," The noise emerges from him, warped and warbled but recognizable still while he pants, heavy, and his cock throbs in your hand.

"Cum for me, then," You laugh, and he does.

A spurt coats his cock, your hand, his delicious abs in an instant, shameless, right in front of you.

Satan's too beautiful, so pretty like this, hair like spun gold sticking to his lovely pink face, those brilliant eyes normally so sharp are gleaming with tears, lurid with desire, wide and fucked out and still, he can't help himself.

His whole form is bared to you, the lean, faintly muscled chest, narrow waist and hips, toned thighs he'd sat you on and the delectable curve of his red-flushed cock beneath your fingers.

Your hand fists in his hair, jerking his head back as you descend on the pale skin of his throat bared to your teeth.

That you'd chosen to mark him back is all he needs. The feeling of you on his neck brings him back to life, the bite tugging him back down from the brilliant high.

He grounds himself in the feeling of you against him, your heart racing with your chest pressed against his, the arousal he can smell and feel, thick and ready for him.

Satan doesn't waste a second longer; lifting you by your haunches, lining you up right above him as your arms warp around him in return.

The wet, slick embrace of your cunt draws a painful bolt of pleasure through him, but the fit is perfect and he can't help but groan, overstimulation fading away as his cock grows hard, swelling once again as he looks at your face, hears you moan.

It sends his heart aflutter, or it would, if he could feel anything past the now insistent throb where he's buried inside you.

Your head slides over his shoulder, avoiding his gaze as your arms reach up to cling to him.

He feels the soft brush of your hair against his cheek and has to hold back a sigh as he sinks home and grinds hard on your poor, aching clit.

Nails dig into his back, sharp and chilling on hot, sweaty flesh. Endearing scrapes, cooling, refreshing.

"Oh? Who's the kitty now? Scratching me up like that..."

You don't answer him, squirming weakly for more stimulation, but your thighs are tired and shaking.

Cackling, Satan nuzzles himself into your neck, nipping wet and gentle against fragile skin as he bounces you on his dick.

"You know," He croons, "You were meowing at me, too, weren't you?"

A groan is his only response, the delicious sting of your clawing at his back.

Snapping his hips up into you again, he licks at the underside of your jaw, "It was cute... you don't want to do it again?"

Your whimper, the blush on your cheeks as you look away, sends his senses alight, frozen, ears trained on the sound of your racing heart, eyes fixed on the gorgeous creature before him, catching your scent, feeling you clench in want for him -

How you'd looked at him just after he'd cum.

Satan leaves his cock buried deep, drawing one hand over your hip to hold you in place.

"Do it for me?" He snarls because he needs it, but he wants you to need it just as much.

He feels you, he feels you, warm and solid against him, thrumming blood and slick skin and trembling, clenching around him, and it feels like heaven - what will you sound like?

Your cunt is soaked to the touch, long since dripping and swollen in need, and his fingers flit along familiar folds, drawing along you to catch the slickness before they descend on your clit.

And yes, oh yes, if your touch was divine, then the way you howl at the sparks of pleasure his touch ignites is utter primal delight, feral and fervent and filling his awareness until nothing else remains.

A push of his thumb, "Meow for me, pet," He murmurs in your ear, "I'll make it worth your time."

Whimpering, you shiver helplessly, unable even to buck into him.

"You can do it. Nya~" Satan strokes over your hip possessively, the delicious swell of your rounded flesh bared to his touch, "You'll feel so good."

Another drag across your clit, he feels you clench around him, and then your frame relaxes, melting against him as you whine out what he wants to hear.

"Nnn... nya..." You sniff in a sob, and he pulls back to cup your face, perfect and tearstained, eyes glazed in lust, cheeks hot for him, unable to even avoid his gaze.

"Pretty little human," He breathes, because you are.

Never in his life, ever, has he seen anything as beautiful as your eyes meeting his with hesitation, lashes fluttering, your darling expression bashful and wanting as you meow for him again, meekly.

It's as if the air surrounding him is charged, heavy with an overwhelming thrill that shoots through him at the sight, urges him forward with your every sound.

If he doesn't fuck you right now, he'll die. If he can't see your face when you cum, why is he even alive?

He holds himself close and grinds gently; you quiver around him but you need more, more than this, and he'll give it to you, he will.

"I have you," He soothes, "My lovely human pet, my kitten, don't cry. I have you."

Satan hums soft noises at you as he flips your exhausted body so you can rest on your back, never pulling out, covering your prone form with his own as he tears open your shirt.

For him alone to see; his hands roam your chest to massage and caress, but anyone who catches a glimpse will see only him taking his own.

Another sniff, a sob, a needy meow; he kisses your tear away and his hand returns to stroke tender circles over your clit as he draws back to thrust in.

The next noise he draws from you is a gasp of pleasure, breaking in your throat into a moan, and he could cum just from it.

"Beautiful," He purrs, stroking your clit in time with his thrusts, measured but heavy, "Tell me who's the kitty, now?"

The sound intoxicates him, the wet slap of his cock through you, the little whimpers you make for him, your expression at the edge of bliss, so ready to melt - every urge inside him lit aflame, words soaring from his lips with fevered, delirious intensity.

"Tell me?" Satan purrs with a wicked delight, "Who's my sweet little kitty slut? Who's meowing for my cock?"

Delight courses through him at how your eyes wince closed, even as you clench around him in feverish need, so close, you're so close -

The next thrust, he draws so far back he's almost out and you wail in frustration, your limp form jerking with sheer need.

Satan catches your eyes barely slipping open, only to see him staring straight down at you, watches you moan under the intensity of his gaze, looking away instantly.

It's all you can do to angle your hips, just a little bit more, brush up against his cock so unexpectedly that he nearly thrusts back in on reflex.

"Nya..." You wheeze, weakly, and you're so cute.

Just like a cat, you want to have your cake and eat it. It's too endearing. His heart is about to thud out of his chest already.

Satan laughs. "All right."

He leans in so close that your face is only inches away, impossible to avoid his eyes. He lines up his cock with you, presses your clit down with a gentle tap of his dripping thumb.

"Is it you?" He asks. You're only more enchanting up close. "Are you my cute little kitty slut? You want my cock so bad you're whining and meowing for it?"

Those gorgeous eyes wince closed, but you nod, almost feverishly, and the arms on his shoulders, long since limp, pull him closer -

And his limit is reached completely.

He presses his lips to yours as he drives into you in one smooth motion, catching your clit against his thumb and rubbing in the short, perfectly timed strokes that never fail to draw you towards the edge you're already flirting with.

The heat of your body burning into him, your hands clutching against his shoulders, how you squeeze him in anticipation as you cry out; he spirals, weightless, flicking his hips forward as he glides into you.

You cry out with every thrust; pleasure courses sharp and eager inside you, rising up to meet his touch on your clit that consumes your awareness.

Your whole world, reduced to the delicious friction of him inside you, the throb of euphoria that pulses against your clit, sparks of pleasure that flicker from existence until he thrusts deep and his thumb rubs you faster and faster and then the sparks ignite into ecstatic heat.

And it feels like you're being taken midair, the heated lust within bubbling, dissipating as if you're dissolving into the air yourself, like you're made of the flames that consume your being and pull, insistently, with every thrust between your legs.

You don't even notice the noise in you ears past the rush of air through your throat, how your face heats in the breathless bliss of release.

No, your moans could be echoing through the library for everyone to hear, and you'd know nothing but Satan's smile, his eyes, in front of you.

The drip leaking between your legs. How your chest heaves as he stays buried in you, his careful fingers nursing your clit through the aftershocks.

With that expression of awe and nearly maniacal delight, Satan looks like he's found god.

Heh. The thought brings you back, to the hard table, beneath the warm, naked body of your lover, your chest bared to the air -

"Wh- fuck, SATAN!"

"We did," He agrees, like an ass, but he's not stupid.

He pulls himself out, dragging a moan from you on the way, which he smirks at. It earns him a smack on the shoulder, but he looks perfectly pleased with himself anyways.

Satan draws you up with him, snatching his discarded jacket from the tabletop to wrap around you.

He even lets your eyes linger a moment or two on his nude form, fuck, how was he still so hot after he'd been utterly fucked out - and then changes right into his demon form, fully clothed.

You stare at him, unimpressed.

"What?" Satan raises a brow, adjusting his collar so the bite mark you'd left on his neck is visible.

He looks so completely and utterly pleased with himself; it's adorable, it's infuriating. You kinda want to fuck him again.

That can wait, though.

"Next time," You say, staring the demon down in his handsome face, thinking back on just how he'd looked when meowing for you - it makes him blush.

"I bite you first."

#obey me #obey me! satan #obey me satan #lemon lime demon time #fic #not mine

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