fake smiles — satan
pairing: gn!reader x satan
summary: enjoy some soft satan trying his best to comfort mc when things start to get overwhelming.
word count: 1,117
[a/n]: commission request for @miraculous-ladyfrog. i hope i did your request justice! p.s. hope you don’t mind i went over the word count! xx
You thought the brothers would never notice. After all, you tried so hard to keep all of your feelings under wraps so they would never to worry, but it all got to be so much, no matter how hard you tried. It was as though you had been peacefully floating on water when something had suddenly dragged you beneath the surface, and you were scrambling for a chance to breathe. You could never tell that, though. How could they ever understand?
At first, you didn’t mind so much, helping out the brothers with their problems and enjoying all Devildom had to offer, but the little things began to add up. It started when Diavolo and Lucifer had insisted you assist the student council and the members with all their tasks—even having you lead some. Then, with classes and exams piling up, Diavolo incorporated a new grading system for your circumstances—meaning you’d no longer be seen as a human exchange student but graded as one of the demons. And when you weren’t avoiding being eaten by a low-tier demon with less impulse control than Beel with one of Simeon’s famous BLT devil sandwiches, you realized a part of you missed home and humanity. It just wasn’t the same living without the sunshine.
So the plan was to fake a smile, and everything would keep moving forward, right? Right?
Satan was the first to see right through you; after all, he knows better than anyone else what a faked smile looks like.
It was all in the details: you were withdrawn during conversations and became more of a shut-in than Levi; he could have sworn you had tensed up in one of Asmo’s hugs; and worst of all, you weren’t greeting him with the smile he hoped you had only ever saved for him. He wasn’t sure what was wrong, but he knew something was definitely not okay.
Though in retrospect, inviting himself into your room after dinner one night for a subtle interrogation wasn’t the best thought out plan, but hey, at least you’re giving him eye contact right now. It’s a confused expression—although he wasn’t sure if it was directed at him, the small stack of books in his hands, or the package of cookies resting atop the pile. Little did he know, it was all of it. All of this was a lot to take in for you. You knew he was up to something, you just didn’t know what.
Satan was trying his best, though, and admitted he hadn’t seen you for a while and wanted to spend time with you—so long as it was okay. He had even brought cookies Luke had made if that could further tempt you. Suffice to say, he succeeded.
The two of you were sat side-by-side on your bed, your shoulders pressed snuggly together while the cookies remained nestled between both your laps. The low light from your lamp cast the room in a warm orange glow, the contrast between light and shadow sharpening Satan’s features. The soundtrack of the room was the occasional page turn or happy sigh from one of Luke’s desserts. It should have put you at ease, having the Avatar of Wrath peacefully reading beside you, and yet your thoughts came pouring down like rain.
Maybe he did know something was wrong—or, at least, a little off—with you. He might not be the most emotionally intelligent of him and his brothers, but he was fairly perceptive. And most importantly, he was trying to help you in his own way. That had to count for something, right? But that also means you weren’t hiding your feelings well enough from them. You knew it was wrong to do it, but if the others found out then—
“You haven’t flipped your page.”
You were so consumed in thought, all you could do was stare blankly at him. “What was that?”
Satan let out a low sigh, shaking his head. “You’ve been staring at that page for over ten minutes now,” he stated matter-of-factly, setting down his own bookmarked book, “and I’m doubtful anything there is fascinating enough to keep your attention for that long.”
Any witty retort you had locked and loaded all but died on your tongue. Setting aside your book, you tugged your knees to your chest and let out a defeated sigh of your own. Were you really going to do this? Spill your guts to him about how you felt as though you were drowning in your own emotions? So overwhelmed you ran on autopilot for basic function? You felt guilty keeping it inside because it clearly did not go unnoticed, yet it seemed wrong to emotionally dump all your problems on the demon. Was this just a lose-lose situation you had to dance your way through?
“Hey,” he whispered. The tenderness in his voice drew your attention back to him; there was something earnest shining in his eyes, almost as a though he understood without you ever uttering a word. “You don’t have to say anything if you’d rather not talk about your feelings, but I don’t mind lending my ear if you ever change your mind.” A faint rosy blush bloomed on cheeks as he cast his gaze to the hands folded in his lap. “I do care about your feelings and what you have to say.”
Now it was your turn to have your face flushed. After a moment of thought, you decided to tell him all that had weighed on your mind: the expectations, exams, trying not to die, and just missing home. At the last one, Satan’s chest tightened the slightest bit, though he knew it couldn’t be helped if you longed to see the human world. You weren’t sure when you rested your head on his shoulder or when he wrapped his arms around you, but you didn’t seem to mind; he never interrupted you once—merely nodding along to what you had to say while absentmindedly rubbing his thumb over your arms.
Relieved to get this all off your chest, you found yourself drifting off on Satan’s chest, mumbling, “Thank you, Satan,” before sleep could pull you under.
He never left your room that night. No, he stayed with you resting in his arms and overthinking why he went through all the trouble. When things are broken, they must be fixed. But Satan knew you weren’t broken, and you certainly didn’t need to be fixed. But for some reason, he couldn’t stand the idea of not seeing your smiling face throughout the day. If you missed the sunshine, then that’s what your happiness was to him, and he understood why you’d be reluctant to ever let that go.
