demon’s kiss
24/7
(OM! Demons/Reader)
i: Satan - 5:35AM
Satan’s kisses are sunbursts, rimmed sweet from morning precipitation as he guides, goads, without a breath of hesitation. Nipping, skimming your bottom lip, he engulfs wholly, utterly, and you’re always left a little mesmerised, a little giddy.
Fingers running up your side and down, and you giggle into his mouth, into the quiet evaporating gasps when he pulls away and he pecks the tip of your nose with emerald-flecked mischief.
“Wide-awake, are we?”
ii: Diavolo - 6:30 AM
Diavolo’s kisses are open-mouthed, hopping from your lips to your jaw, to the dip of your neck and your clavicle. His body wash lingers, warm, faintly musky as you ball the fabric of his shirt, tugging him a little closer.
Laughter shivering your skin, biting at you playfully, nuzzling into you, his hair tickling before he reaches up to your lips once again. It’s a little rushed, a little sloppy, but you find that it suits him just as well, and he cradles you when he pulls away, even if it’s brief.
“I have to get up,” is his soft, chuckling plea and, as much as you’d like him to stay, you surrender him to his work. Brushing your hair to the side, he whispers the promise of his return, a dinner together and a reward you’d very much like to sink your teeth into.
iii: Beelzebub - 12:00 PM
Despite his intimidating build, Beelzebub’s kisses are tender, mellow, bitter caramel and pudding between his teeth. He handles you with a delicate touch and you’re precious in his arms, your hands up against his chest, the strong beat of his heart thrumming under your palm.
Never pushing, never forcing, he always seems to back away just before you do, your name tumbling in honeyed dulcet tones. An endearing smile smoothed by affection, warmed by the kitchen heat, you raise your hand to cup his cheek and he gladly presses into you.
“You taste sweet,” he confesses, thumbing a peck into your palm, and you chuckle at how unabashed, how honest he always is.
“Thank you.”
iv: Asmodeus - 2:00 PM
Coloured in rose perfume, Asmodeus’ kisses flatter you, coiling in an intoxicating swirl of indigo and peach as he pins you down against his bed, his knee between your legs and his hands flitting across your figure. You shudder into his caress, back arching when he traces the length of your abdomen, the swell of your hip, the curve of your thighs.
Giggles spill into your mouth, the shell of your ear, unsparing in his touches as he bares warm flesh to cool air, to warmer palms, relishing in the way you’re sighing his name in praise. He adores you with sugared compliments, his lips grazing every inch of you in fluttering pecks, a topaz gaze transfixed by the blush of your body.
He always stops, just as you’re at the precipice of it all, coyly slinking back, taking you into an embrace while he smooths you out.
“Sorry,” he winks, grinning, knowing. “I got a little too carried away.”
v: Belphegor - 5:45 PM
Taking all the time in the world, Belphegor’s kisses are, oddly, patient. He nips at your bottom lip as his thumb strokes your cheek, humming your name, brushing your hair back. Through violet eyes, he admires.
When he finally presses his lips against yours, everything around you seems to flicker ablur, quelling into a silence as you ease in his arms. Mint peppery on your tongue, tart with raspberries and dewed in stardust, holding you tighter still. He’s gentle, if not unyielding.
No matter how many times he breaks away, gives you space, he’s never really distant, his lips hovering yours for a few heartbeats before he captures you again. Languorously, he showers you with quiet affection, fingers running across your arms, resting at your waist, and you always feel ethereal in his touch, as though you’re floating, as though you’re in a dream.
Pulling away for the last time, you watch him in a daze as he thumbs a light kiss to your eyelid, the crescent of smile etching itself before he chuckles at the sight of you.
“Again?” he asks and you nod. Wordlessly, without any hesitation, he lulls you back in.
vi: Barbatos - 7:00 PM
Earl grey and rose petals, and crème Chantilly; that’s the only indication of Barbatos’ kiss today. You swear you feel him soft against your lips, the ever slight hand on the small of your back, his hair tickling your eyelids when he bends, but when light floods your vision, he’s a good few spaces away.
You’re not sure if you’re to believe it happened or not, your fingers skimming your bottom lip as though it would jolt the process of a recollection. You hear him chuckle quietly and you look up to meet the serpentine gleam of his gaze.
Pressing a finger to his mouth, a smile curling at the edges, he sends a small hush that makes you warm with blush, the thrill of your intimacies being kept under wraps tingling across skin.
“Later,” and with that, he assures you that this isn’t the last you’ll be seeing of him today.
vii: Mammon - 10:25 PM
Under the flickering fluorescence of a dying street lamp, the aftermath of a sudden shower, the slight bittersweet tang of Demonus, Mammon’s kisses are uncharacteristically bold.
Hands clinging, wandering, roaming the side of your thighs, your waist, your face as he pulls you flush against him with his other. Balling his shirt in your fists, you tug and he deepens the entwinement, teeth skimming your lip before his tongue tangles yours, brash as he always is, though the way he strokes your cheek is as kind as ever.
Hovering, lingering, when you break for air, he shies his gaze away and you’re met with the sight of him, blushed twice over to the tips of his ears. You laugh, wondering where all his bluster’s gone, pressing a peck onto his cheek that stiffens him straight as he looks at you, wide-eyed and nothing short of surprised.
“Y-ya can’t jus’ do tha’ outta nowhere!” he stumbles, frowning as he does, though the soft look he fixes on you betrays it. Without so much of a warning, he hoists you up and you yelp, your arms finding purchase on the strong line of his shoulder while your legs wrap around his waist, his hand slipping under your thigh to support you.
“Mammon!” you yell and he lets out a giddy, unrestrained chortle.
Kissing the top of your cheekbone, he smirks. “Payback,” and he captures your lips once again, rapturous.
viii: Leviathan - 12:00 AM
Leviathan’s kisses tremble in your mouth, quivering ever just when you return his affections in earnest, hugging you tighter as you lean back against his chest. He’s awkward, unsure, but he holds you with a tenderness that makes your heart melt.
He leaves the ocean on your lips, mellowly sweet and herbaceous, and you shift in his lap to bury your head into the crook of his neck, the scent of brine and saltwater clinging to him like second skin.
“D-don’t do that,” he stutters out. You peek out from below and raise a brow in question, and he seems to slump, the sunset across his blue eyes dulling. “I smell; I’m a yucky otaku after all.”
Pressing your hand to his chest as you rise up to peck the edge of his lips, and he stumbles at the suddenness. “You’re not,” is your answer and he bites the inside of his cheek, looking away, flustering and fumbling before you raise your hand to his cheek to focus on you.
He holds his breath for a moment then, before his shoulders relax. He doesn’t ask for any confirmation, he just simply allows himself to trust your words, to hold you tighter with a little more confidence. Tugging the blanket that swaddles the both of you closer, you can only sigh as he starts to hum, soft and melodic, and not nearly as often as you’d like him to.
With the waves crashing frail at the shell of your ear, you rest yourself flush against him, clutching his shirt, eyes fluttering close. A featherlight kiss onto the top of your head and the sea swallows you into a fitful slumber.
ix: Lucifer - 3:30 AM
Incandescence rims him gold, the smell of juniper spiced and woody, grating the metallic tang of fresh ink as his fingers brush your cheek. Underscored by bitter coffee, Lucifer’s kisses are the aftermath of countless sleepless nights.
His lips are harsh against yours, clashing, bruising, the hand on the back of your neck pushing your forward as his teeth skim your mouth. Breaking away, your fingers twine his hair, tugging him closer when he trails kisses down your jaw, shuddering as he bites and suckles on a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, your hand coming up to his chest, the other gripping the chair’s arm.
With one last peck to your newly formed love mark, he pulls apart, drinking in his handiwork with a proud gleam. “Beautiful,” he hums and you flush, clicking your tongue at him; he raises a brow. “No?”
“Somewhere less obvious would’ve been better,” you huff out. Chuckling, he brings your hand from his chest to his lips and a shiver runs through you when he levels a devilish gaze at you.
“That would’ve completely missed the point,” he answers and you roll your eyes, shaking your head, but he’s unperturbed, thumbing a kiss to your wrist. “Besides, red suits you.”
As if to prove him right, warmth floods your cheeks and he laughs once more, a little freer this time, with less of an arrogance. You lean forward, just slightly, before you glance at the clock on his table. He appears to have followed your line of sight, because he clears his throat and straightens his back.
“You can go ahead and sleep first,” he encourages, assures; you shake your head.
“Not unless you are,” you assert and his mouth opens in protest, yet you shush him by continuing. “Paperwork can wait, your sorry excuse of a sleep schedule can’t.”
He frowns at that. “I have a sleep schedule.”
“Last I checked, three hours isn’t a sleep schedule,” you retort.
“It’s still sleep.”
“Lucifer.”
At that, he complies, allowing you to disentangle yourself from him as he stands. He’s still reluctant, you can tell, so you reach up to cup his face in your hands and pull him down to meet your eyes.
“Please, get some rest.”
He tenses for a moment, though it doesn’t last long. His stare softens as his mouth curls into a small smile, his hand taking yours before he nods.
“Alright.”
Tenderly, gently, he leads you to the bed and takes you into his arms in a rare display of intimacy. Fingers carding through your hair, his chest falling and rising in rhythm, you drift off with his heartbeat in your ears.
