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draconicsorceress · 2 years ago

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Please find and enjoy below, my first one-shot (smut -shot?) with original characters. I've been writing this forever and it finally felt ready to post!

M!Demon x F!Reader, 4.2k words

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43453942

Tw for explicit sexual content, hints of religious trauma, passing mention of arranged marriage and sexual harassment. NSFW content below the cut.

In the House of the Father

If there was one place from your childhood that you could say was like a second home to you, it was your daddy's church. He was a preacher like his father and grandfather, and like your brother would be one day. You had grown up in the sanctuary, from helping to pass the communion and offering plates to leading worship and children's Sunday school to teaching classes in the yearly Vacation Bible School over the summer. All the members and attendees knew you and your brother, perfect little twin angels with hearts for Jesus.

No one could have guessed the reality.

Your father had been stealing from the church for the entirety of his ministry. He and your mother had both conducted secret adulterous affairs, both also bribing your brother after he had caught them on separate occasions. As for your brother, when he wasn't blackmailing your parents he was bullying and sexually harassing the younger children in the youth group. A roiling shitstorm bubbled just below the perfect, pristine exterior your family showed to the world.

And how did you, the most sheltered and innocent member of the family, know all this?

The demon you were sleeping with had told you all about it.

On your eighteenth birthday, some friends had coaxed you into joining them in the forest to try a ritual meant to summon a demon. You could tell they didn't really believe it would work, but they kept joking about you being the virgin sacrifice if it did. Naturally it did work, producing a demon nearly seven feet tall with blood-red skin and black hair and horns. Everyone but you had run scared, leaving you behind as though you really were the proverbial sacrifice. The demon had approached you, curious at your stillness. You whispered a prayer, something from the Psalms, and he laughed and told you that your God was not listening. Silent with shock, you learned from this terrifying creature that Jehovah no longer gives any heed to any happenings on earth.

Now he is teaching you every carnal pleasure known to mankind.

And because the land on which your father's little non-denominational church rests isn't properly hallowed, his favorite classroom is the sanctuary.

That's where you are now, spread out in front of the podium your father preaches from on Sundays, the skirt of your simple cotton summer dress bunched up around your waist and your lacy black panties clutched in your demon's bitten-short claws, wound around the fingers that grip your hips while his tongue flutters, delves, laves at your dripping pussy. When you moan involuntarily, his mouth abandons your swollen folds briefly to hush you.

"Shh, angel… what if someone's around to hear us?"

You know that there isn't, since you're the closest thing the church has to a cleaner and no events are ever scheduled for Saturdays; but the gravely baritone of his voice imploring you to be silent makes you wetter than you thought possible. Swallowing thickly, you nod.

"Good girl," he purrs, giving another teasing lick up and down your dripping slit with his double-tipped tongue. He moves slowly, as though he's savoring the taste of your wetness. You languish under his sinful caresses, whimpering soundlessly, the tiny squeaks your throat wants to make becoming nothing more than hitches in your breathing.

"God damn it, you're so good," he groans into you before covering your vulva with his almost-too-hot mouth, thrusting his tongue into you as deep as he can before zeroing in on your clit. "I love when you obey me." The words bite out from between his fangs and he seals his lips around your sensitive pearl of flesh, sucking and flicking with the twin tips of his tongue.

Your hips roll against his face and you gasp for air, wanting the finishing stroke but knowing if he gives it to you you'll scream. All you can manage to communicate is a strangled "please" as breath rushes in and out of your lungs, in time with the throbbing of your over-sensitive pussy.

"Please what?" The demon's wicked yellow eyes meet yours, his mouth still working between your legs.

Your poor fried brain struggles to find the words to answer his question. "Please… let me cum," you breathe finally.

He chuckles darkly. "What a good little girl, to beg me so politely," he says around his mouthful of your flesh, sucking sharply on your clit. "Do it again. Use my name."

"Please, Samael, I need it," you hear yourself whimper pathetically. "I need to cum for you."

Growling almost too loudly, your demon attacks with renewed vigor, licking and sucking at you as if in a frenzy, using every trick he's learned you like. His fingers, burning hot as the rest of him, find their way to your entrance and thrust into you. "I can't say no to you, angel," he purrs, the vibrations of his voice driving you to an excruciating edge, and with his fingers twisting in your cunt you come undone on his tongue and light explodes behind your eyelids and you can feel the ecstasy sizzling like an electric current in your veins. You seize his great black horns and press his face into your pussy, and he grazes your mound with his fangs, sending sparks flying off the ends of your nerves. Your back arches up off the floor and your cunt trembles, contractions rippling through your muscles as he continues to work his fingers in you.

You whine as his assault on your pussy continues, driving you to the point of overstimulation. Thighs shaking out of control, you try to drag him off of you by your tenuous grip on his horns, but he doesn't budge. His tongue curls around your clit and sucks sharply. Too sharply. A high-pitched squeal is forced out of you and he claps a hand over your mouth.

"Sh-sh-sh." He comes up from between your thighs, grazing your belly with kisses on his way up to claim your mouth. The lower half of his face is wet and slick with your juices, and you can taste yourself on his lips. "Did I hurt you, angel?" he asks you between gentle kisses.

You shake your head, whimpering softly against his mouth. "It was just… too much."

"Well, you can have a break for a little while. It sounds like someone is coming." One long, pointed ear twitches, listening to something your human senses can't pick up. He presses one last chaste kiss to your lips before dissolving into gray smoke.

Swiftly, you arrange your dress back into place, covering your legs. Your panties are nowhere to be seen; Samael must have taken them.

Your father walks into the sanctuary before you manage to get to your feet, so he finds you sitting on the steps in front of the podium. "You aren't through yet? What are you doing sitting around?" he asks coldly.

"I was just taking a break to pray." The lie falls easily from your lips, sticky with your own slick mixed with demon saliva.

The pastor huffs slightly. "Don't take too long. And don't forget to lock up when you come home.” He stuffs his hands into his pockets and to your dismay, continues talking. “Kenny came by after lunch. He wanted to talk to you and I both, but I had to tell him you weren’t home. He was disappointed.” Your father’s slight southern drawl, usually so jovial, is chilling.

“I hope you expressed my regret at missing him,” you lie through your teeth, like the polite lady your parents think they’ve raised. Kenny is a new member of the church, and has been pestering you for the past six months with your father’s encouragement. You avoid him when you can, and this afternoon you were thrilled to take the opportunity to both dodge Kenny and spend time with Samael.

“I did. For some reason he didn’t seem to believe it.”

Starting to get agitated, you rise to your feet. “He comes calling every weekend, is it so bad if I’m unable to see him one day?”

“Sweetheart, I want to make sure you’re taken care of. Your mother and I won’t be around forever.”

You take a deep breath and try to focus on staying calm. Counting down from twenty, you try not to think about Kenny asking your father for your hand. “I’m nineteen, Dad. Are you really trying to marry me off to a forty-year-old man already?”

“We’re not having this discussion tonight. I’ll see you when you get home. Don’t be too much longer.”

He steps out of the sanctuary, not noticing your grimace. After the door falls slowly closed, you return to your task of dusting the pews, abandoned an hour ago when Samael had appeared to ravish you with his mouth. Shortly afterwards, you hear the front door close behind your father.

"I thought he'd never leave."

You whirl around in surprise to see Samael leaning against the altar behind the podium. His lascivious grin turns your insides to jelly and makes your knees weak. "I didn't know you were back!"

"I'm never far, angel. Now, what do you say we pick up where we left off?" He curls one long finger, beckoning you to him.

You feel like you couldn't resist even if you wanted to, and you throw yourself into his strong, hot arms. Your skin practically sizzles where he touches you and you moan against the skin of his neck. You start to kiss a trail down his bare chest, flicking his nipple with your tongue on the way down.

"Ah, angel… is this how you want to repay me for your pleasure?"

"I was thinking something more like this," you respond, lowering yourself to your knees in front of him. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows, and he frees his cock from his black leather pants, letting you brush your lips across the tip. He has the most beautiful penis you've ever seen, long and thick and veiny, symmetrical with a slight upward curve that stimulates your g-spot incredibly. For now you use your mouth, tongue swirling around the head and running gently through the slit at the tip.

He growls in satisfaction, laying his hand on top of your head and urging you to take more of him into your mouth. When you comply, he moans openly. "Mark this, Yahweh," he shouts to the ceiling, his grip tightening in your hair. "This loyal follower of yours, on her knees for me. Serving me, in your house."

Your heart thunders in your chest, your lover's words both terrifying and exciting you. He had assured you long ago that God no longer paid attention to anything said on Earth; but his blasphemous taunts still… well, they freak you out a little. The first eighteen years of your life you had been taught to speak of and to God with only the utmost respect, and now you couple with a partner who hurls insults and obscenities to the sky with triumph in his voice. It's taken some getting used to, to say the least.

His hand presses more firmly on the back of your head and you obey, opening your throat to allow him to thrust deeper into your mouth. He groans as his abs tense, making his hips cant forward and seating himself almost to the hilt between your lips. You clutch at his hips, tracing the lines and ridges of his muscles with deft fingertips. He pumps into your throat, fucking your face for several heartbeats before you tap his thigh, signaling your need for breath. When he extracts himself from your mouth, a long, thin string of saliva keeps your friction-plumped lower lip connected to his glistening cock. You take him in hand, spreading the wetness from your mouth over the entirety of his length before going down on him again, tasting the salt of his precum and the sweet musk of his skin.

"What have you given her?" Samael growls through his teeth. Your vision jerks upward, but you realize he isn't talking to you. "That bastard of a father? A bitch of a mother? No wonder she plays the harlot for the demons of hell; the God of heaven neglects her while devils ravish and please her. Just look at her: fellating me so eagerly, like she's hungry for my seed."

You swirl your tongue around his head once more before releasing him. "My mouth is hungry for you, but my cunt is hungrier."

His eyes sparkle down at you. "Hear her admission," he whispers to God's deaf ears. "Hear her asking me to fill her womb. Will she bear me a child? Only you know, oh omniscient one." His voice drips sarcasm like a poison with those last words. He reaches down to help you to your feet, then lifts you up to sit on the altar. His hips nudge your knees apart as he tugs your skirt up. When his mouth finds yours, he kisses you softly, almost tenderly, as he pets you gently between your legs. One finger, claw short and blunted, tests your opening. He makes a sound that is half growl, half moan when he finds you soaked for him, and he pushes you gently onto your back to climb on top of you.

As your demon lover mounts you, you're acutely aware of where you are: prostrate atop what is supposed to be a sacred altar to God, legs spread for an abomination, a fallen angel, a fiend from hell. The thought sends another gush of wetness through your pussy, and when Samael lines himself up to enter you he slides in with no resistance.

The preliminaries are short, and soon he's fucking you mercilessly, slamming into you as though to crush you between his body and the stone of the altar. You've grown accustomed to his violent style of copulation, even enjoying it. You let the sparks fly through your body, raking your nails down his back as he grunts his growing pleasure against your neck. You hear your name on a soft moan and you run your fingers through his long, silky mane of black hair. His rhythm stutters for just a moment as he murmurs words of adoration and praise in a long-dead language. When he picks up the pace again, he lays into you with more force than you've ever felt before, and you wrap every limb around him to welcome his onslaught.

On a series of particularly brutal thrusts, you hear a loud crack and he stills. "Are you alright?" he lifts his head to ask you, eyes confused and concerned.

You nod. "I'm fine. What was that sound?"

He looks down and his lips curl into his most devilish smile. "Angel, we broke the altar."

Your jaw drops open.

He chuckles at your expression of shock. "To be fair, it was flimsier than I thought it would be. Here, let me rearrange…" He sits back on his heels, grasping your hips and pulling your ass into his lap. Once you're situated, he lines himself up and thrusts into you, flicking your clit with his thumb experimentally.

You writhe desperately, twisting and bucking your hips until he gives you more, again railing into you at a breakneck pace. Rapidly climbing to the summit, you beg him not to stop, to let you cum with him, to cum inside you.

The latter gives him brief pause, and his movements slow. "Are you sure, angel? You know what might-"

"I'm sure," you rasp, rolling your hips to keep the friction going, balancing yourself on the razor's edge. "Please, fill me. I-I want your cum inside me."

His yellow eyes, fixed on your face, darken considerably when you make that plea. His hips began to piston again, changing the angle so he hits your g-spot repeatedly while he thumbs your clit. You will certainly not last and he will be sure of it.

"Say my name when you cum, angel," he demands, his body working yours skillfully. You can tell he's about to push you over the edge, all he's waiting for is your acceptance of his terms.

"Yes, Samael," you simper pitifully. "My lord, my life, my master. I'll do anything you say."

When you feel the pleasure begin to overwhelm you, you become a babbling mess, chanting his name over and over, and he thrusts into you so deep and so hard that your orgasm blinds you, your inner walls gripping and pulsing around the demon's cock. You're still twitching and moaning, just starting to come down from the absurdly high peak when he falters, his face contorted with agonizing pleasure as he comes unwound inside you. The rush of heat within you almost burns, it's so hot; but you relish it, wrapping your legs around Samael's waist to pull him deeper into you.

Eventually his ragged breaths even out, and he moves to extract himself from you. You pout slightly, but you release him from your leglock and allow him to lower your butt back down to the smooth stone of the altar. When he slips from within you, you pull your knees to your chest to trap his semen inside, tipping your hips up just a bit to make it run up into your womb.

"Fuck," he breathes, his voice shaky. You've seen Samael post-orgasmic dozens of times, but this was the first time he'd finished inside you. He looks almost vulnerable, the usually very sharp, aggressive features of his face softened with… exhaustion? Satisfaction? Pleasure? You can't quite place the look of it. When he comes around to the side of the altar to stroke and kiss you, you let him. One hand pushes back a few sweaty tendrils of hair from your temples, plastered there by exertion; the other tilts your chin up, giving him easier access to your mouth. A handful of kisses land there before his lips start traveling southward, gently nipping at the soft skin of your neck. His fangs barely graze you, and you wiggle in excitement.

"Exquisite woman," he murmurs into your neck. "If demons could dream, I would worry that I'm about to wake up."

Gently, you card your fingers through his hair, stirring up a subtle hint of the scent of hell: smoke and sulphur. By now you're used to it, even growing to like it by association with being close to him.

When he pulls away, you let him, trailing your fingers across his shoulder and down his arm. He catches your hand and squeezes it gently. "Come, let me help you clean up. I don't want your father to be angry with you for your lateness."

Instead of sitting up when he tugs on your hand, you let your body relax, going fully limp on the stone table. You're not ready for him to send you home yet, and you're determined to drag your feet as much as possible to prolong your time with your lover.

"Angel." The tone of his voice is as though he's talking to a recalcitrant child.

"Please, Samael. Don't make me leave you." Your voice is soft, beseeching, and your eyes hazy and pleading. He's never successfully denied you when you do this.

This time appears to be no exception. He sits on the edge of the altar, still holding your hand. "You know, eventually someone is going to catch on to you. Imagine what would happen. What would your parents think?" He pauses, a sparkle in his wicked yellow eyes, and his tone changes. "What would Kenny think?"

He's teasing you, and you roll your eyes. He knows you don't give half a shit what Kenny thinks of you. "Gee, I don't know. I guess he'll just have to find some other barely-legal girl to pester." You roll your hips again, the blistering heat inside you beginning to cool. "Isn't thirty-eight a little old to be pursuing a teenager?"

“You know very well that isn’t the only reason I won’t have him." Another gentle tilt of your hips. "He's gross and weird, and he looks like his last wife died in his basement. Besides," you catch his eye, "I have the attention of someone much more intriguing, and handsome, and powerful, and sharp, and wicked, and-"

Samael snorts in amusement. "Angel, I am millennia old. You find nothing objectionable about our trysts, yet you reject a human suitor for being twice your own age." He shakes his great horned head. "I am perplexed by human behavior."

He cuts you off with a searing kiss. His tongue plunders your mouth, leaving you breathless when he pulls away. "You are the most miraculous woman in humanity," he growls, his breath feathering over your lips making you shiver with glee. "What I wouldn't give to have you as my own. I would keep you like an empress; attended to by servants and slaves, never to lift a finger yourself. I would parade you from one end of the world to the other, and then through hell itself. How I would relish the faces of men and devils alike, jealous of me and admiring of you."

You feel a blush rise in your cheeks. When the two of you first took up together, he would joke about stealing you away and keeping you as a pet. His tone is much more earnest now, talking about making you his mate, caring for you, providing for you. Your coy refusals remain part of the banter, but it is becoming harder to say no to him.

"Please, cor meum," he whispers as his mouth trails down your neck, nibbling at your collarbone. "Let me make you mine."

You hesitate, and his tongue traces the low neckline of your dress, teasing the gentle swell of your breasts. The no on the tip of your tongue is forced back when you gulp for air. "Not tonight," you say instead, meeting his eyes as he raises his head. You give him a smile that you hope comes across as coy, but you can tell that the effect he's had on you shows in your expression.

Samael's eyes are strangely sad, but he smiles back and nods. "Whether you decide to come with me or not, I'm yours as long as you'll have me." He strokes your hair gently and presses one more kiss to your cheek before helping you sit up and handing your balled-up panties back to you.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" you ask as you slip the lacy undergarment back under the skirt of your dress. You know that you sound all too eager, but you don't care.

The devilish spark reignites in Samael's eyes. "Of course, angel. I wouldn't miss my favorite day with you."

Your cheeks flush with heat as a smile cracks on your face. "In the basement? Ten o'clock?"

"Just like last week."

Something deep in your belly quivers as last week returns to you in a flash. Both of you breathing hard, the hot bursts of his breath contrasting the cool underground air. His searing touch under your shirt, fondling your breasts and pushing you up against the hard concrete wall. He had demanded that you beg for your orgasm, just as he had tonight, and you had complied. You had to bite down on his shoulder to muffle your scream of completion, and he had withdrawn swiftly and roughly to spend his release onto your belly and thighs.

Samael draws you back to the present with a warm hand, gently taking your own and bringing it to his lips.

He helps you down from the altar and walks with you to the door, pausing while you collect your things. At the heavy wooden door, he clasps your hands in his and raises them to his mouth again, kissing the knuckles of each hand with what you would almost call reverence, a combination of mischief and awe in his eyes. You feel yourself blushing and have to look away from his penetrating gaze, casting your eyes back into the sanctuary.

The hideous carpeting, the abhorrent tile, the walls devoid of iconography because your parents insist it's "idolatry," but was in reality the reason Samael was able to enter the building in the first place. Your eyes fall on the altar and you cringe: the flat slab of stone on top is split clean in half, and some of the bricks beneath it are crushed. Dust and pebbles litter the ground around the base. A wet stain hints at the debauchery that took place on top of this supposedly-sacred table of the Lord.

"Quite a number we did on it, eh Angel?" You can hear the mischief in your lover's voice and you turn back to see that his gaze had followed yours.

"I just wish I didn't have to be here when they find it tomorrow. I'm sure I'll be blamed for it."

Samael's eyes turn back to you, serious for a moment, and he snaps his fingers. A sound like rending stone echoes through the building, and when you look back at the altar it's in perfect repair.

Your jaw drops. "I didn't know you could do that."

"For you, Angel? Anything." Samael pushes the sanctuary door open and ushers you through it. "Besides," he adds, mischief returning to his yellow eyes, "we can always break it again later."

***Latin translation: Cor meum - my heart

#my writing #do not repost #not safe for waluigi #this is pwp #demon boyfriend #tw religious trauma #tw religious mention #tw christianity #tw harassment mention #feels

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