Pour Some Sugar on Me (satan x reader)
tw: nothing NSFW happens, but does vaguely get discussed. jealousy. misunderstandings. mistakenly thinking the guy you have a crush on has about a thousand sugar daddies.
You were sitting in the common room with Satan and Asmo when an alarm rang on Satan's D.D.D. Standing up, he shut it off and started gathering his things and putting them in his pockets.
You lifted your head from your homework. "What's that for?"
Asmo raised an eyebrow. "Going somewhere?"
"Yeah," Satan said, patting his pockets down to make sure he had everything. "The head conductor for the Demonic Society of the Arts invited me to tonight's rehearsal."
You suddenly found yourself extremely focused on your homework, a blush scattered across your cheeks. Satan sure seemed to have a lot of friends.
"Ooh, is that the pretty one with the tongue piercing? Mind if I tag along?"
Satan glared at Asmo as he shuffled through the couch cushions in search of his wallet. "Yes, actually. I do." Spying his wallet on the ground, he grabbed it.
"Ooh, you're no fun," Asmo pouted
He shot you a small, sweet smile. "See you later, MC."
You mumbled something incoherent in reply, missing the look of concern Satan sent you before the alarm on his phone chimed again.
"I gotta go," he said. Making his way to the door, throwing you another worried look before he left.
You waited until Satan had closed the door behind him before you looked up at Asmo.
"Something wrong, dear?" he asked.
"Um, well..." you looked back down at your homework awkwardly, trying to find the right way to phrase your question. You decided to start simple. "Satan has a lot of these friends, doesn't he?"
Asmo 'hmm'ed in consideration. "I guess I never thought about it, but yes, he does have quite a few."
Your heart sank and you immediately chastised yourself. It wasn't like it was your business what Satan did with his time, or who he spent it with, even if you two had been growing closer lately.
"Well, these friends..." You couldn't make eye contact. "Are they... you know?"
"Asmo frowned softly. "I'm afraid I don't know darling, not unless you tell me."
"Well, I mean... They give him a lot of presents."
"They do," Asmo agreed, and you could have sworn that the slightest hint of a sparkle appeared in Asmo's eyes, as if he knew where this was headed.
"Well in return, does Satan..."
"Go on," Asmo encouraged.
"Is Satan a sugar baby?" You blurted out. When you didn't get a reply for several agonizing moments, you lifted your head.
"Well!" He shot you a wink. "I'm not going to tell you that he's not."
A heavy feeling settled over you. This is what you were afraid of.
Several weeks passed by and Satan went on many more outings arranged by his 'special friends.' You tried not to let your heartbreak show every time Satan said goodbye, but while he was gone, you would inevitably wonder about what he was doing with his friends while he was gone and your mind spiraled from there.
A few days after his last outing, Satan knocked on your door and entered upon your called out invitation.
He looked happy, and your mood couldn't help but lift at the lopsided smile, his true smile, he wore on his face.
You gave him a goofy smile in return. "Hi."
The two of you stood like that for a moment, just basking in each other's presence and you started to think maybe you hadn't been imagining things, maybe Satan did feel more than friendship for you.
"You know that exhibit you were excited about? At the museum?"
You nodded excitedly, hoping this was going where you thought it was going.
"Well, I'm friends with the curator and he got me some tickets..."
The rest of what he said turned to white noise and you felt your smile become strained.
When your senses came rushing back, you realized that Satan was asking you something.
You blinked at him, feeling stupid for both missing his question as well as getting your hopes up. "What?"
Your distraction seemed to sap some of his confidence as his smile straightened and the blush that you hadn't realized he had been wearing deepened.
"I asked if you wanted to go together?" He lifted his hand, showing you the pair of tickets in his hand.
You mouth opened and closed silently once, as you tried to decide what to say.
"Shouldn't you... I mean, don't you want to go with your curator friend?"
He frowned. "Not particularly. I was hoping to go with you, but if you don't want to-"
"No!" You interrupted quickly. "No, I mean I do want to, it's just..." You cleared your throat. "I'm not sure how it's supposed to work. I mean, these gifts they give you."
You had never seen Satan so confused. "Huh?"
Your face felt like it was on fire. "Well, you know, they give you stuff and in return you..." You trailed off, figuring he would get what you were going for, but judging by the fact that he seemed to grow more and more bewildered with every word you said.
You tried again. "I guess I just thought that the outings were preludes to the... other things."
"Other things?" he echoed.
"Yeah, the..." You gestured vaguely with your hands. "The... you know, the favors."
Satan's face went completely neutral. "The what," he said flatly.
"Well, I don't know what you call them."
"MC," he said slowly, and you could see the muscle in his jaw twitch as he ground his teeth together. "Just what is the nature of these 'favors' you think I do?"
"Well..." you trailed off, your eyes drifting to his lower body. As soon you realized where your gaze was headed, your eyes shot back up all the way to the ceiling, but it was enough for Satan to get the idea.
Stan shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "MC, are you telling me that this whole time, you..." He trailed off, the vein in his eyelid twitching.
You gulped. You didn't mean to make him mad. "It's okay!" you cried, waving your hands in front of yourself defensively. "I'm not judging you!"
"And I don't think any less of you!"
"And I don't mind if that's the how you got the tickets! I'd still like to go with you!"
That vein was damn near busting. You heard the crinkle of paper and noticed that Satan's hands were balled into tight fists, the tickets crumbling in his grasp.
"Where..." Satan cleared his throat in an attempt to remove the strain from it. "How did you come to this conclusion?"
"There were clues..." you muttered awkwardly, wondering how much deeper you were going to have to did this hole.
"Clues." Whatever little control Satan still had over his temper was slipping.
"Sometimes you would come back late at night and-"
"They were evening events."
A strangled choking sound erupted from deep within Satan's throat. "Meaning they took place in the evening!" he clarified.
"But when I asked Asmo-!"
You felt a whoosh of air, and Satan was no longer standing in your room.
The call was answered by a distant shriek and the slamming of a door closely followed by the ripping of wood, as Satan presumably made his way into Asmo's room anyway.
"I DIDN'T ACTUALLY TELL THEM THAT WAS WHAT YOU WERE DOING! THEY GOT THERE ALL ON THEIR OWN!"
"YOU DIDN'T TRY DISSUADE THEM OF THE NOTION THOUGH, DID YOU?!"
The chaos was compounded when the all-too-familiar sound of the door to Lucifer's study slamming against the wall echoed through the house. "CAN THIS HOUSE JUST GO FIVE MINUTES WITHOUT SOME FORM PANDEMONIUM TAKING PLACE?!"
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