sathavious - Tumblr blog

sathavious · 7 months ago

Text

In My Mouth

(NSFW Beel x Reader)

MDNI 18+ only

I posted this shit on AO3 forever ago and totally forgot to put it anywhere else. Also I don't have my computer because I'm traveling so the format is gonna be shit until I remember to fix it when I get back. Anyways...

Tags: oral sex, vaginal sex (reader has a cooch), fingering, overall just filth, there's no plot, very slight degradation, oral fixation, marking, breeding, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it plz)

Synopsis: I'm really high so this is gonna be incoherent, but it's just smut. The title is the song I was listening to while I wrote it. Basically Lucifer locks the fridge so Beel comes to see if you have any snacks stashed in your room.

Wc: 4.5k

It’s getting late, so you’re already all tucked in bed with a book. You can hear the footsteps of Lucifer doing his rounds around the estate to ensure everyone is in their rooms.

You’ve been hot and bothered all day, but know better than to start anything until Lucifer goes to bed for the night. You’d been equally mortified and cautious since the time he’d caught you reading porn with a hand down your pants a month into your stay (not that your current reading material is any better). He’d been judgemental and disapproving at the time. But after growing closer, he teased you about it incessantly.

In the distance, you can hear the soft creak of his door, finishing his rounds and going into his bedroom. You keep reading, but your unoccupied hand slowly creeps down the front of your sleep shorts. You gently tease yourself through the fabric. It’s a tentative and light touch, just enough to begin entertaining yourself. The pads of your fingers gently slip over the seam in the shorts and drag along the hem.

Your fingertips gently circle your clit through the layers of fabric. The stimulation is barely there and you can feel yourself growing warm beneath the sheets. The shorts are loose, and you slowly become impatient as the words of the book blur together and your breath quickens. You slide your finger beneath the hem for more relief, pressing against your clit with more urgency. The touch is still light, but the burn of arousal is more steady and insistent. You push your underwear to the side and drag your middle finger up your slit, dragging your arousal up to your clit. The skin-on-skin contact is almost too much, so you ease gently into the feeling. You roll your finger with the subtle throb of your heartbeat. When you’re ready, the finger eases lower, slipping over your hole a few times before gently pushing in. You don’t moan or gasp, only letting out a raspy breath as you feel the digit sink further into you.

You’re only down to the second knuckle when you’re interrupted by a knock at the door. You groan at that, hurriedly wiping the finger in your sheets as you sit up in bed, determined to end this conversation quickly.

“Come in.”

Beelzebub lazily pushes open the door. He slumps against the doorframe. A hand drags down his tired face. “Lucifer locked the fridge.”

You almost turn him away, and probably would have if it had been anybody else. But Beelzebub is the closest to you, and he would do the same, so you sigh and motion him inside with your decidedly unclean hand.

Your legs swing off the side of your bed and you sit slouched over next to your pillows.

“I think I might have some snacks stashed around here somewhere.” You pat the edge of your bed. “Sit.”

You set your book on your nightstand, slipping a scrap of paper between the pages to mark your place. In the drawer of your nightstand, a half-eaten pack of Oreos is halfway stale.

“You can eat these.” The cookies land unceremoniously on your sheets. Beelzebub immediately grabs the container, barely bothering to chew the Oreos. They’re gone in less than a minute. The redhead looks at you expectantly.

“Do you have anything else for me?”

You shake your head, no. “That's all I had.”

“No, it’s fine. I don’t care about the food. “ His hand overlaps with yours, pinning the digits. You internally cringe at where those fingers were minutes ago. His voice drops to a low whisper, as if ashamed of what he’s about to say. “I wanna put you in my mouth.”

“What?” Your voice comes out too breathy, fanning over Beelzebub’s face as he inches closer.

“I want to put you in my mouth.” He picks up your hand from the bed, pressing his lips to your fingers. “All of you.” He kisses your hand, wet and open-mouthed as his teeth ghost over your knuckles. He stops to look up at you with a soft smile on the corners of his mouth. He must smell you on your fingers.

“Beel-” You’re cut off with a sigh as he takes your middle finger into his mouth. His cheeks hollow around it, stamping your fingerprint onto his tongue.

“Sweet,” he notes, staring at your hand thoughtfully. “I’ll never get enough of this.”

“I-” Your voice comes out shakier than you expected, “I want to be sure you’re not literally going to eat me.”

He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t be able to get seconds.”

Beelzebub places a kiss on the inside of your wrist. He licks a small stripe up your forearm, biting lightly at the skin. He slips from the bed, knees hitting the floor as he settles at your feet.

“Is this alright?” Beel pushes your knees apart, gently. He’s not met with any resistance, so he moves closer. His hands roam the expanse of your waist and squeeze at the flesh to watch it give beneath his fingers. He looks up to watch you nod. “I’m gonna need to hear you say it.”

The tips of his fingers lift the hem of your shirt. They dance around your sides. Beelzebub's hands press flat against your back. He holds you firmly, pulling you close. His voice is muffled, face buried in your stomach like he wants to lose himself in your body. “Unless you want me to stop?”

Your skin flushes under the contact, face heating and spreading downward– to your pounding chest, stuttering breath, to where he’s pressing his lips to your skin with enough urgency for you to find your voice. “Please don’t.”

Beelzebub stills, resting heavily on your thighs as he tilts his head to look at you. “Please don’t?”

“Please don’t stop.”

He groans and presses a kiss above your belly button. His next kiss is deeper, leaving the shine of his spit in its wake. Beelzebub works his way towards your side until he’s leaving shallow pecks in the crease of your thigh. The obnoxious folds of your shorts are in the way. His fingers slip from your back to dip beneath your waistband. He plays with the give of the elastic, testing how far from your waist he can pull it before it’s taught and watching your reaction when it snaps back.

You jump slightly at the feeling. It doesn’t sting, but the insinuation brings attention to the flutter of arousal in your gut. Your weight shifts back, onto your wrists as your hips unconsciously cant forward.

“Lift your hips for me, sugar.” Beelzebub’s lips tickle as he mumbles against your skin. You shift your weight further back raising your hips off the duvet. Beel drags the waistband down to reveal the soft skin of your thighs. Warmth blossoms on your skin as he mouths at the inside of your thigh, tasting each new inch of skin. His palms skim over your calves as he tugs the shorts off completely and discards them on the floor. “Cute.”

Beelzebub flicks at the pink bow on the waistband of your underwear.

You flush deeper with embarrassment. Your underwear is a soft pink made from comfortable cotton. Cute is the perfect word to describe them.

“Don’t be embarrassed. It’s a compliment.” He tilts his head to the side, resting it on the inside of your thigh. How he noticed the difference in your blush is a mystery, but the look he gives you now is knowing and amused. “Don’t get shy over compliments. I’ll have to give you more of them if they make you look like this. It’s cute.”

You turn your head into your shoulder in an attempt at hiding from the attention.

Belzebub leans forward to run his nose up the crease of your underwear. He bumps lightly at your clit through the fabric and follows the motion with his tongue.

Your lips part, opening just enough to let your heavy breath spill from your open mouth. The amount of slick coming out of you is embarrassing. Everything about this is embarrassing and you wonder if that’s part of the reason you’re so turned on. Then you’re stuck trying not to feel humiliated over that.

This time with more insistence, Beel tongues at your underwear. A mix of saliva and slick soaks the front of the fabric as you continue to pass your moans as heavy breathing. You feel as the wet cotton bunches together at the seam and buries itself into your slit.

Beelzebub stops. Part of you wants to continue hiding in your shoulder, but the hornier part of you wants to glance down just to see him nestled between your legs. Your clit throbs at the thought and you decide not to chance it. If even the fantasy elicits that reaction, it’s safer to stay turned away.

The hands on your thighs dip lower, scooping beneath your legs and lifting to rest on your hips. Fingers trail to the sides of your underwear, tugging them higher. Your hips unconsciously cant forward at the stimulation to your clit. You gasp, soft and breathy. That’s the last of your dignity, so there’s no harm in looking down. The first thing you see is Beelzebub’s smile.

He grins up at you, looking pleased with himself. Beel pulls the underwear up higher. Your spit-soaked underwear slides against you. It’s dirty to get off on something like this, but you can feel your heart beating faster as blood rushes to your clit.

“Fuck,” you groan. The stimulation from the cotton is rough and sloppy, but that doesn’t stop you from sounding desperate as you rock forward for more. You try to keep the movement in your hips soft and subtle, just enough to take the edge off, but you can’t hide it when Beel’s eye level with your cunt.

Beelzebub nods softly in approval and leans back in to kiss your thighs. His hands rock gently, moving in time with your hips. The kisses on your thighs are insistent. They quickly turn to bites when he sucks the skin between his teeth. The marks left behind are violent and carmine, and send your head spinning. You hope they last, turning bluer with the morning. Beel continues trailing the hickeys into vague constellations in your skin. He seems to map out your blood vessels as he follows your pulse upward from your knee.

The gentle rocking of his hands becomes more demanding, fingers digging into your sides as his thumbs pull at your waistband. Everywhere Beelzebub touches, he leaves a piece of himself behind. Fingerprints on your hips, the shine of spit on your stomach, and hickeys on your thighs.

You need to cum. The seam of the underwear is too clumsy and indirect to get you over your peak. You’re almost there, bucking with the rise in Beel’s hands in an attempt to get the stimulation you need to finish. It’s almost driving you insane, barely feeling the nip of pain as he continues to mark your thighs.

“I’m s-so close.” You stutter at a particularly harsh brush of the cotton.

“I can see that.” Beelzebub watches your clit throb beneath the fabric. He can smell how close you are; he can almost taste it.

He licks up the strip of fabric, letting his tongue press the seam further into the folds of your pussy. His lips latch around your clit, sucking lightly at the bud.

Your hips settle into a gentle grind against his mouth, stuttering with the direct stimulation.

“I’m gonna-” You’re cut off when Beelzebub tugs gently at your underwear. “I’m gonna fucking cum.”

He moans in response. The hands on your hips pull your underwear downward. Beel’s forced to part with you momentarily as the garment is slipped down your legs. He takes the opportunity to taste you fully on his tongue. The muscle is exploratory in the way it licks at you, decidedly landing back on your clit. The arms propping you up flex behind you and slip along the duvet until you land on your back. You gasp softly, feeling him for the first time with nothing in the way.

Your orgasm is gentle, catching your breathy moans in your throat. You see nothing but the rise and fall of your chest as you cum.

As soon as he feels the first wave of your orgasm, Beelzebub pulls away to watch you. He looks at the way you twitch, contracting helplessly around nothing as your hands tighten into fists on the bed. The lack of follow-through leaves your climax short. He goes back to leaving light kisses on your thighs as he lets you come down from your stunted high.

Beelzebub can feel your pulse on your thighs when he bites a little too deep and tastes it in his mouth. Once it slows down, approaching a normal pace, his mouth returns to the apex of your legs. He’s methodical with the way he eats at you. As if only a meal isn’t enough, he needs to savor it. Every movement of his tongue feels practiced. A dance that lights your nerves in a way made specifically for you.

Open-mouth kisses are pressed against your hole, replacing the slick with saliva. Your breath stutters as Beel’s tongue dips inside of you, taking all you’ll give him. Your fists tighten in your bedspread as he purposefully nudges his nose against your clit. You’re still sensitive from your first orgasm and shudder at the stimulation.

His ministrations are precise, just gentle enough not to be painful. He keeps his tongue flat against your entrance, laving attention up your cunt and barely flicking at your clit. This climax builds quicker than before, but still not as rushed as you’d like it to be. When he notices your breath quicken and fists tighten, he slows. It’s as if Beelzebub doesn’t care if you climax, that’s simply a byproduct of him enjoying you fully. The taste of your skin, sweat, and cum is on his tongue. He flattens the muscle, letting you grind against him.

Small moans spill from your mouth as your hips cant forward. Your palms are sweaty from being balled so tightly, and you spread your hands to grasp at the bedspread. The ceiling seems further than before as your eyes cross and unfocus with pleasure. It’s almost scripture when you beg. “Please, Beel. Please just a little more.”

His tongue dips downward, finally giving something for your needy cunt to clench down on. The tip of his nose nuzzles into your clit as he buries his tongue inside of you.

The grip on your hips is firmer, holding you down with an authority you don’t want to fight against. It’s unlikely you could even lift your hips if you tried. You can feel yourself stretch around his tongue. It pushes further than a human tongue could go. You groan, legs slipping to catch around his shoulder. Your ankles lock between his shoulder blades, pressing him closer without straining against his hands.

Your moans are breathy and light, still fighting against the sound of it. You don’t want the whole house to hear you. It would be impossible to look any of the brothers in the eye for weeks, and you’d die of embarrassment if Lucifer caught you again. But it’s hard to keep your sounds back as Beel fucks his tongue into you, seeing how far inside he can taste. His arms keep your hips propped up at just the angle he wants, keeping your lower back lifted into the faintest arch with just his hands.

As you stare blankly up at the ceiling, you faintly think that the bed beneath your ass must be wet. Your eyes slip in and out of focus as you lose yourself in the vulgar sound of Beel eating you out. It’s like he’s been starved, making sure none of your slick goes to waste, and leaving spit running down your skin as he drools on your cunt.

“Fuck,” you rasp, the duvet twists harshly in your hands. “I’m gonna-”

“Gonna what, baby?” Beelzebub mumbles against you lazily. His tongue, suddenly back in his mouth. The flutter of his lips is on your clit as he speaks, keeping you teetering dangerously off the edge of your climax. “Do it on my tongue, yeah?”

The hands on your hips loosen, tapping lightly up your sides before falling to rest over your fingers. Your hands flip palm up, grabbing at his wrist from the awkward, upside-down angle.

“Now you can move all you want,” Beel whispers. He dips his head downward, letting his tongue slip back inside of you.

You can move freely, grinding against his nose as your ankle urges him closer. The air is heavy, almost humid, and your mouth hangs open as you uselessly pant. You slide easily against him, feeling his heartbeat quicken in your palms as you spill over the edge.

Your thighs tighten around Beel’s neck. A couple of involuntary stutters of your hips leave you cumming on his tongue. Your back arches off the bed as you ride the orgasm out on his face. The sounds leaving your mouth are distant to you beneath your thundering pulse.

Beel doesn’t seem to care if you're being loud as he leaves a final parting kiss to your soaked pussy. He stands, dragging his lips up your body. The hem of your shirt comes with him, slipping the clothing over your head to leave you bare beneath him. He practically licks the breath from your mouth as they spill out in syrupy gasps.

You realize that he’s still completely dressed.

“Can you take this off?” You lift your right hand away from Beel to tug at his T-shirt.

“Not yet.” He pulls your hand away from the fabric and intertwines your fingers with his. The backs of your knuckles are gently pressed into the bed beside your head as he leans upwards.

Beelzebub’s other hand drifts downward until he’s nestled between your thighs. His finger dips to collect the wetness gathered along your slit. The digit presses forwards, brushing along your clit. He’s more hesitant with his fingers. The brushes remains light and almost uncertain until Beel feels you bucking into it.

You groan when his finger slides downwards. There’s a desire to be filled that’s been stirring inside you since you lost the feeling of his tongue. Your cunt clenches down as he gently circles the digit around your entrance.

“Please, just-”

He cuts you off with a kiss, snatching your attention away from where his hand is. You’re staring directly into his eyes as two of his fingers sink into you. You moan breathily into his mouth, finally having something to stretch you out.

Your hand tightens around Beelzebub’s. If your nails are digging into the back of his hand he doesn’t show it on his face, and you’re too gone on the feeling of his fingers to notice.

“I need you,” you say. The pitch of your voice is disgustingly whiny as he drags his fingers in and out of your needy hole.

“Sugar, you have me.” Beel kisses you like he eats pussy. He’s gentle, but only momentarily. His tongue can’t stay behind his teeth forever, and the way he licks into your mouth is almost overwhelming. You can’t breathe beneath his kiss.

He breaks away, giving you space to moan when he curls his fingers. Just barely brushing that hard-to-find spot. You tighten around him as if to keep him there, but you’re impossibly wet. You can’t tell if it’s even all you with the way saliva was dripping out of his mouth. Your jaw goes slack as the pads of his fingers drag out of you, staying at a soft angle the whole time.

“No, I want your…” you trail off as Beelzebub’s fingers sink back into you.

He cranes his neck to whisper into your ear. “This dirty bitch wants my dick.” The heel of his palm rubs against your clit as he clicks his tongue in disapproval. “And you didn’t even say please.”

You shy away from the stimulation. The fingers inside you feel good, but your clit is too sensitive. “Please,” you comply, “I need you to be closer.”

Beel’s fingers still at that, slipping out of you to fumble with the drawstring of his sweats.

He’s looking down, so you mumble drunkenly into his hair, “I want you inside.”

It’s difficult to do with only one hand, but he manages to shove his pants and boxers down to his knees. You giggle as he struggles to step out of them, kicking the offensive articles of clothing across the room. His erection bobs against his abdomen. Precum paints watery marks against the dark fabric of his shirt. He looks painfully hard. The tip of his dick is flushed to a pretty pink rivaling the blush on his face.

Beel lets go of your hand for a moment to lift his shirt over his head. Your breath becomes heavier as you drink in the toned lines of his torso. Your hands are immediately on him as he leans back over you, wanting to trace every freckle and mole on the taught skin.

He looks at you nervously, trying to read your expression as he lines himself up with your entrance. “I know I’m big.” He almost sounds guilty of something. “So tell me if I need to go slower.”

His length is already impressive, but the girth is more intimidating. The head of his cock is already a stretch, despite the thorough prep. Beel distracts you with light kisses across your cheeks and hickeys on your neck, keeping his promise of going slow. You feel the veins on every inch of him as he eases in, gently rocking in and out of you and going a little further each time.

Your hand comes up to cup his face to your collarbone, fingertips wandering into his hair. The marks he leaves travel across your chest too. Your skin is sticky with sweat and spit, but it’s still not enough to pull your attention from wear he’s shallowly fucking into you. The tip of his cock barely kisses your cervix; his hips are not yet flush with yours. It’s a few more slow thrusts before he’s fully sheathed inside of you.

Beelzebub rolls his hips against you experimentally, barely pulling out. He adjusts his angle, shifting where he hits until he finds the spot that makes you moan the most. Holding back your sounds proves to be a losing battle as he perfects his movements. Beel barely drags his cock out of you, slow enough for you to miss every centimeter. The snap back into you is rough but precise enough to knock the breath out of you in a harsh gasp.

You lift his chin up, away from your chest, to kiss him. You try to keep it sweet, but it’s impossible with the way Beel’s tongue twists with yours. At least it muffles your groans. The only sound is the squelch of his cock fucking the pre out of you.

“This close enough for you?” Beel grunts into your mouth.

You shake your head, no, and lock your ankles around his back. Your legs keep him close. He can barely pull out of you. Your lips find his and you lick greedily into his mouth, tasting the pussy off his lips.

Your legs tighten around him every time he pushes into you until he can do nothing but rut against you, pelvis grinding into your clit. It’s animalistic, hitting a spot inside you that makes you break the kiss.

“Right there,” you breathe out. Your head drops into the crook of Beel’s shoulder. You take the skin between your teeth to muffle yourself, trying to force your legs to relax.

“Fuck your tight.” His breath is hot, leaving steam to mingle with the perspiration on your shoulder. Your cunt contracts around him as he groans more praise. “So good, sugar, taking me so well.”

“If you keep going I’m gonna-”

“Not yet.” He draws out of you a little further, trying to get himself to meet you at your peak. “Just a little longer.”

You nod. “Together.”

Your mouth kisses at his neck, keeping your attention away from the twist in your stomach. He’s purposefully missing your G-spot, keeping you from cumming until he’s ready. It still tortures you all the same, making whine beneath him as he drives into you. It’s as if he’s using you for his own pleasure now, chasing his high. And God that makes you wet. The look on his face is angelic, eyes glazed over, ragged breaths coming from his split lips, and eyebrows arching higher with every flutter of your cunt.

You try to stay clenched down around him. Some twitches of his hips catch deep inside of you, making your muscles waver and grasp at his back. Your fingers dig into the muscles of his back, leaving behind marks as payback for his fingerprints on your hips.

Beelzebub’s thrusts are finally stuttering. He falls into a pattern of rutting against you. His breath becomes more strangled and stretched in his throat.

“Can I finish inside?” he asks.

“I’m not on-”

“Not what I asked.”

“Yeah.” Your legs hike further up his back, forcing him to hit at your favorite angle.

“Shit.” Beel’s hands slip beneath you, pulling your torso flush with him as he cums.

You can feel it as he spills inside of you, sticky and warm. He grinds his dick into you, pressing his hips to your clit as he fucks the spunk further into you. His moans are breathy and satisfied, working through the sensitivity to get you off. The hand on your upper back slips to the back of your head to pull you away from his shoulder.

“I wanna hear you cum on my dick, baby.”

You can’t reply, too gone in the way he feels inside you, fucking you dumb. The bedspread sticks to your back as you arch away from the mattress with your third orgasm. Spit collects in the corner of your mouth as you scream silently at the ceiling. You quickly devolve into sloppy murmurs of his name as Beelzebub fully eases you through it. His body stays pressed close to yours. You can feel him shiver against you from the overstimulation.

His entire weight collapses onto you, not even bothering to pull out yet. Your hands lift to tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck. You can barely breathe under Beel’s weight, but it’s worth it to feel his stuttering chest as he recovers.

“So, how many?” he asks smugly.

A/N: I've never written smut before so nice comments and constructive criticism are definitely welcome.

1K notes · View notes