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lovelyunholyc · 2 years

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happy birthday, satan <3

!! nsfw !! minors, blank, ageless blogs will be blocked !!

afab! reader, use of pet names (darling, my love, good girl). soft, loving sex, fingering, praise, no dynamics (just luv :’)), unprotected sex. (if i missed anything pls let me know)

you whisper it out into the darkness of your room, staring unseeingly at the ceiling above you, wide awake despite your best efforts, hoping for your lover's support.

"satan, are you still awake?"

silence for a moment. you almost feel guilty, wanting him to join you in your misery of being exhausted but somehow unable to rest properly. you'd both worked equally hard, after all, sorting through the piles of books in one corner of his room that had started to prevent the door from opening all the way - you were the one who'd insisted on organizing them and giving away extraneous titles, an arduous task you know he'd only agreed on (though still, rather begrudgingly), because it was you who'd suggested it.

no matter how clever, or tough, or unbothered he tried to appear, satan is always ever soft for you, the only being in existence who could bring him to his knees in no more than a breath.

just before your heart can sink in your chest and you can retreat further into your sheets, reluctant to disturb him any longer, he shifts the slightest bit, signaling his wakefulness (in a capacity as yet unknown to you). his thumb begins to soothe into the skin on your hip, where his hand rests, his body still curled sweetly over yours.

you really should let him rest, but you can't help yourself now that you know he's somewhat still lucid, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. "darling?"

"my love," he all but hums, barely parting his lips to get the words out. the gruff sound of it makes warmth stir deep in your chest. "why aren't you sleeping?"

he has the audacity to sound slightly irked - but it's too late, your energy's only growing, and any trace of guilt for possibly waking him has disappeared. you turn to face him, displacing your comfortable positions and making him groan deeper (though that sound is not unappreciated). "it's your fault for letting me nap for too long!"

satan doesn't tell you that he couldn't dream of waking you when you'd fallen asleep on the floor in his room, surrounded by stacks upon stacks of books and one even still in your hand, because he'd taken one glance at the scene before him and nearly shed a tear at the emotion that welled up within him, at seeing the things he loved the most in such a serene, contented way. instead, he finally peels his eyes open just so you can watch them roll at you. the green practically glitters even in the darkness, making you grin - you're always taken aback by the beauty of his eyes, breathtaking as they are - the only thing you love more than gazing into them is riling him up, poking and prodding at his patience to get a rise out of him.

as a result, he truly surprises you in only the best ways.

"will you help me fall asleep again?" you ask innocently enough, expecting him to suggest continuing where he'd left off in reading aloud the novel he's in the middle of once more.

instead, satan smirks, you can just make out the lovely curve of it in the low light of the moon streaming in through a crack in your curtain. his eyes glint mischievously in the dark as he surges toward you, touching his lips to your shoulder and trailing them up the line of it, up to your neck, beneath your jaw. it makes you shiver, makes your heart start to race, fingers automatically coming up to grasp at his soft blonde hair.

he finally reaches your lips to find them smiling, and he pecks sweetly at them and nips gently, a silent request for you to part for him. he hums, satisfied, when you comply instantly, licking at your lips before slipping his tongue between them, his movements languid, savoring your taste. his tongue twists around yours before he lets you part for breath, nibbling at your bottom lip once more.

he takes a moment to admire his handiwork, how quickly he'd turned you into putty in his hands, panting after him with stars in your eyes.

he is irrevocably weak for you, that is undeniable, but that didn't mean you were unaffected by him in turn.

"turn around for me, darling," satan says softly, and your breath hitches, the low cadence of his voice going straight to your core.

he props himself up on his elbow as he guides you to flip onto your other side, your back flush with his chest. you can feel his heartbeat against your back, steady and comforting through the fabric of his shirt you wear, stolen to use as pajamas. his arm snakes around your waist, slides up the hem of it, long, lovely fingers tracing delicate shapes into the skin of your stomach. he tucks his chin into the juncture of your neck and shoulder, presses kisses into your jaw before whispering, his breath tickling your ear and making you shudder, "i think this is the most effective way to wind you down, isn’t it?"

those fingers slide down your stomach, slip beneath the band of your underwear smoothly. "satan," you nearly whimper as he rubs at your clit and parts your folds, already wet just from his kiss alone.

"spread your legs a bit more, my love," he instructs gently, sending shivers down your spine. you twist to place your outer knee on the bed, allowing him better access between your legs, to which he takes advantage of instantly - his middle finger slides easily through your slit before venturing further, circling your hole. "good girl."

you call his name again and he chuckles lowly, slips his digit past the ring of muscle, down to the knuckle. your hands clutch desperately, one beneath your pillow and the other behind you to tangle into his hair, when he slides in another finger and scissors them before he starts pumping, the heel of his palm rubbing purposely into your clit. "such a good girl for me, so beautiful."

"ah, fuck, satan," you're whining, squirming in his iron grip, one of his legs tangling with yours to further pin you in place as your hips buck into his hand, his pace unhurried, enjoying you unraveling beneath him far too much.

though soon enough, you can feel his own excitement start to press into your thigh.

in a matter of minutes the pleasure rising deep within you starts to crest, each drag of his fingers pulling whimpers and moans of profound arousal from you. "satan, please-" you cry, and his own growing arousal prompts him to take mercy on you this time. he crooks his fingers in just the way he knows you like, pads of them ruthless against that sweet spot inside you, his palm pressing tightly to your clit even as you start to shudder and shake away from the friction becoming overwhelming.

"cum for me, darling, let me feel you," he nips into your ear, and you nearly sob.

as if on command, the wave of pleasure he'd been building swiftly breaks over you, and you cling to him and the sheets beneath you - anything in reach. you gasp his name like a prayer as you gush into the palm of his hand, hips stuttering in time with his movements, the altogether obscene sound of his skin smacking into your slick ringing around the room as he lets you ride your orgasm out, steady and relentless.

satan noses lovingly at your hair, the side of your face, your jaw, as you tremble gently in his hold. you come down slowly, to his fingers slipping out of you and sweeping between your folds carefully, appreciatively, your cunt pulsing once more when he brushes against your sensitive clit. the muscles in your legs are twitching, and the restless energy you had before is replaced with a dull yet deep sense of satisfaction in your gut, making your eyes and your limbs pleasurably heavy.

you suppose he'd been right.

you flip onto your back with a wide, dazed smile on your face, watching your lover through adoring half-lidded eyes as he licks his fingers clean and smirks. he dips his head to capture your lips and you welcome him eagerly, let him steal your breath just as you recover it.

"i love you," you whisper, breathless with adoration, struggling the words past the kisses he plucks from you, sweet and altogether irresistible. satan cradles your face in one hand, gentle as ever, yet the way he tastes from you is hungry, as if he can't get enough. you tug at his shirt until he slides it up and off, seek out the skin and muscle beneath it, the heat of it under your palms intoxicating. "want you, baby, please," you nip at him, beginning to get impatient at his unhurried movements and the emptiness his fingers had left behind, sliding your hand down between his legs to paw at the prominent bulge beneath his pants.

satan chuckles, eyes like emeralds glittering with equal parts mischief and lust. "my darling's so needy tonight, hm?" he teases, nudges his nose with yours, but you can see even in the low light that he's blushing furiously, hips inadvertently pressing into your hand.

you can only roll your eyes, lean in and tease him right back, graze your teeth along his earlobe until he shivers, your voice low and sultry. "only for you, my love."

something stirs in his chest, deep and desirous, spills out in a groan so heavy it sounds more like a growl, and it spurs you on, makes you nearly giddy with adoration and want.

satan is open with his love for you, abundant even, but it still takes him by surprise when you remind him you love him just as ardently, passionate and fierce in a way he could have only ever dreamed of attaining, especially from someone as wonderful as you.

it's all you need to shove his pants down his thighs, suddenly desperate to see him, feel him, nearly frantic. satan just laughs breathlessly - he can't deny your impatience, he feels just the same, like he'd fall to pieces if he didn't feel you around him anytime soon. he doesn't miss the way you lick your lips when you watch his leaking cock bob against his abdomen, your eyes glowing with a hunger that makes him feel raw and just as desperate. you always look at him anew, as if you haven't seen him naked countless times, as if you haven't memorized the places he likes to be touched, the way he likes to be handled.

you don't even have the tolerance to take your own underwear off, hitching your leg over his waist and curling over his body to press your hips together and forcing him happily on to his back as you straddle him, the tiny scrap of fabric now the only barrier between you and all but soaked with both of your juices. satan slips his hand between your bodies to shove the gusset to the side just as you line him up to your entrance, neither of you paying any mind to the sound of fabric being ripped when he accidentally applies more force than he means to. you nearly whimper when the head of his cock rubs against your clit, glides through your slick folds until finally, he slides home.

you moan in unison at the slow, gratifying stretch, his hands gripping tightly at your thighs around his waist, yours at his shoulder and the pillow beside his head.

"oh, fuck, sweetheart," satan breathes, his voice cracking in disbelief. "you're so... so tight." you gasp out what could be loosely interpreted as laughter, the feel of him inside you making your chest too tight with pleasure to qualify for much more.

despite being a demon, thriving on sin and debauchery, satan hardly curses. he sees it as uncouth, often uncreative and only necessary in certain situations. language was endless, he knew that more than anyone, so there certainly were better alternatives for most of them.

with you, however, every thought and belief he holds seems to fall to the wayside, nothing on his mind except the sweet pressure of your slick walls around his throbbing cock, the warmth of your chest against his own when you lean in because you can hardly hold yourself up - his chest always swells with pride to rival lucifer's at that, how only he can make you feel so good you nearly lose yourself.

strong hands come up to grasp at your hips and guide you into a slow grind, electricity jolting through your body when you sink down gradually and take him to the hilt, and the base of his cock massages into your oversensitive clit. "you're so good to me, beautiful," he manages, grinning drowsily when you shift to cradle his face in your hands, smiling just as dazedly, pressing lazy kisses to his face until he lifts his head and catches your lips in a messy, open-mouthed kiss.

"y-yeah? feels good?" you try to tease, but your voice breaks, as breathy as it already is with arousal, and he chuckles, brushes away hair sticking to your forehead and letting his hand linger so he can slide his thumb along your bottom lip, slick with both of your saliva and swollen from his teeth, he's sure.

"always, gorgeous," he affirms with a lopsided grin, squeezing at your ass playfully with his free hand and feeling you clench around him in response. "always."

you rock against him sweetly, rolling your hips steadily, impatience wearing away now that you have him exactly where you need him, savoring the slow drag of his cock along your walls, splitting you open so nicely.

satan can't stop touching you, elegant fingers caressing along your skin, tickling and pressing and gripping at where you're softest just to hear you hum in satisfaction, feel you twitch and shiver and moan, arching into him to greedily press more of yourself into his touch. his hands slide back and forth beneath your shirt, cup at your breasts and pinch at your nipples, squeeze at the delicious curve of your waist. he holds the hem of the fabric up to your sternum just to watch you move, mesmerized at how equally lewd and yet so beautiful the scene before him is - the deep, purposeful stroke of your hips as your needy cunt swallows down the thickness of his shaft, down to the base and back again, the pretty arc of your spine when the swollen tip nudges at your sweet spot, the way your walls clench and pulse, hugging him so perfectly.

satan thinks this, among other things, is evidence that you were made for him.

he loves how responsive you are to him, how wholly you give yourself to him, how openly you show it. he loves how soft and hot and lovely your lips feel along his skin, how you tease him with gentle grazes of your teeth on his shoulders, his neck, his jaw, just to make him groan, make him squeeze his hands around whatever part of you he's holding.

"i love you," it spills from his lips and straight into yours when he brings you back up to his face with a gentle hand at the nape of your neck, his chest tight, heart pouring his adoration into his words. you relax into his touch, eyes dazzling, lips turning up at the corners, and he could swear you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, even looking as wrecked as he feels. "so dearly," he finishes against your mouth when you tilt your head down to kiss him again, catching your bottom lip between his teeth before his tongue slides in, dances along with yours.

you pull away only to breathe, nipping down along the line of his jaw to reach his ear, to murmur his name against his pretty skin.

every touch from you, every whisper of your breath against him sears his skin, fills him with emotion.

and when he jerks his hips up almost involuntarily, drawn by your own irresistible movements, and you whine so high and melodious, he swears he internally explodes.

in one smooth motion satan shifts you onto your back without detaching from you, caging you in between his arms. a slow smile breaks onto his lips as he takes a moment just to admire you, the way your hair splays out around your head like a halo against the mess of pillows behind you, the way your eyes seem to overflow with desire, with love, leaking out in tiny droplets at the corners, shining in your irises. “so good to me,” he repeats, because he still simply cannot seem to believe it, “so beautiful.” satan kisses your nose in a gesture so innocent compared to what you’d been applying so far that it makes you giggle, only to be cut off abruptly when he undulates his hips.

satan groans, so rich and guttural you feel it vibrate through you from his chest. you clutch and claw at his back as he moves, taking hold of your thigh against his waist and circling his hips, digging deeper, making you cry out in response. “so beautiful,” he continues through gritted teeth, syllables breaking off between gasped breaths, melting into you and molding you to him, finding his pace and that spot inside you that makes you keen, that makes you scratch and pull at him because it overwhelms you.

“satan, satan- !!” where you were slowly building your pleasure from him snowballs soon enough, and you can feel your orgasm creeping in much faster. you plead with him, though you aren’t sure what for, your mind growing hazy and your hands clutching at his back and hugging him close, chest to chest, your hips moving on their own, stuttering up to meet him.

he can feel your walls start to spasm around him and he half-smiles, knows you’re close, presses messy kisses along your face and your open mouth just as he slips one hand between your bodies. his fingers find your clit with practiced ease, and he rubs the bundle of nerves harshly between the pads of them, slowing his hips to carve even deeper into you.

you reach your second peak so rapidly, so forcefully you think you see stars. white spots into your vision and you grasp onto your lover for dear life as he carries you over the edge and holds you there, pinning you in place with strong hands and the unwavering determination to please you as much as he's able.

"satan, fuck, i love you, i love you," you're babbling, not sure what you're saying but knowing your sentiment to be true, overcome with nothing but pleasure and your love for him, nerves singed and heart hammering in your chest.

satan isn't much better off, gasping at the tight squeeze of your perfect, perfect pussy, how your walls pulsate around his cock and make him start to lose control of his careful momentum. "fuck, darling, i-" you hug him close to your chest, and he can feel how fast your heart is racing against his own. "i love you, too," he mumbles it into your skin, and he thinks he sounds a little drunk, the words uncharacteristically slurred together. the thought is distant to him in the moment, however, as he pistons into the tight heat of your cunt, driven by the urgent sweep of his own pleasure catching up to him.

it's dizzying, the frenzied way he's moving, like he can't get enough of you - (and he never can) - but you urge him on with a gentle tug to the roots of his hair that elicits the loveliest moan from him, your walls twitching around him in response, in the aftershocks of your own orgasm.

it only takes a few more careful strokes for him to come undone, gasping your name into your hair as he sheathes himself fully inside you and spills into your needy cunt, shivers wracking through his body. you can't help but gasp at the feel of him coating your inner walls, at the delicious throb of his cock, how he fills you.

satan partly collapses over you, hardly able to support himself as the pleasure jolts through him in waves, and you accept him easily, holding him close and whispering sweet nothings as his thrusts grow sloppy and gradually fall into a slow grind. you gasp and moan along with him when his pelvis nudges insistently into your swollen clit, can't help but squirm and writhe beneath him at the oversensitivity, at the stickiness leaking out between your bodies.

when he eventually rides out his orgasm and falls fully into your arms, you're soothing your fingers into his scalp, tracing random patterns into the smooth skin of his back.

the sudden urge to yawn rises from your chest, and you can't seem to stop it, so you give in easily, starting to feel the aftermath.

satan feels it from where he's laying on your chest and chuckles, shaking you both gently.

"i think i can sleep now," you quip, and he lifts his head to smile at you, looking every bit as charming and handsome as usual even with his hair as messy as you've made it.

"don't you dare let my hard work go to waste," he replies, and pecks at your lips, can't seem to resist and comes back for another, before he parts and pulls out carefully, hissing at the loss of your wet heat, the sensitivity, and pulls his pants back up.

his eyes gloss over and he bites back a groan at the sight of his cum dripping out of your hole, how your skin glistens with how wet he'd left you.

if he didn't know how much you truly needed to rest, he would've pushed it back in, as much as he could, and worshipped you with his tongue.

instead he kisses a line down from your chin, sliding the hem of your shirt up to continue his way between your breasts (taking a detour to press chaste kisses below each swell), over your stomach, until he reaches the crux of your thighs and what's left of your underwear (which is then tossed carelessly across the bed) - and presses an innocent kiss to your clit just to make your breath catch. he grins and sits up to find his discarded shirt to wipe you down before coming back up to your open arms.

you're giggling when he kisses you again, settling into the crook of his neck and wrapping an arm around his waist.

"i'm sorry i woke you up, satan."

"oh, darling," he chuckles into your hair, doesn't say he'd let you keep him awake for as long as you could ever want. "i'm not."