Obey Me! x Reader

Satan x Reader

(Self-indulgent, feelsy but fluffy! Satan deserves to be loved tbh. The quote at the end is by Oscar Wilde.)

"Get out."

Satan's blue-green eyes have become more emerald as the room buzzes. Books and trinkets and the like have begun to whirl about in his growing rage. His demon form has been released, his tail lashing behind him.

As much as his words should bite, the intent is clear: he doesn't want to hurt me.

I take the advice, leaving the common room with the other brothers. I know how much he'll come to regret blowing up. It's the first time he's truly gone this far since the body-swap incident, and the waters between us are not explicitly clear about his anger.

"He'll be fine," Lucifer assures as we walk down the hall. "He's been due for a tantrum."

"Yeah, it's like clockwork," Mammon shrugs.

Nevertheless, I know he tends to overthink. As the rest of us reach the dining room, I send him a text, hoping he'll recieve it once he's calmed down.

Leaning against the wall, I elect to wait a moment to gather my thoughts as the rest disperse.

The door to the dining hall (is there a door?) all but slams open, Satan scooping me into a rough embrace as a couple of his brothers yelp in concern.

"Stupid human," he hisses out in a strangled voice. A voice full of restraint. A voice so distraught that it tugs at my heartstrings. A clatter sounds as his D.D.D. drops to the floor.

His arms shake around me, not squeezing too hard, but a firm hold, like the only thing keeping him from boiling over the edge is holding me.

And then the tears are dripping down.

A sob wracks through his body as his tears wet the collar of my shirt, a whispering scream parting his lips as he tries so hard to restrain himself, so hard that I can feel the tension as he breaks down.

"It's okay, Satan," I murmur, returning his hug as he sobs and screams silently, feeling my heart tug again and again as he loses himself with me in his arms.

He shakes his head, to which I hold him tighter. "It's okay, I promise."

"Why-" he sobs "-are you being nice to me? I all but yelled at you, and--" he cuts himself off as he shakes his head.

"Satan," I guide his head from my neck, where he'd been hiding it. "I meant what I said. I wanted to be sure you knew how I felt when you calmed down," I take a soft breath, trying not to cry myself at the sight of his blotched face. "I'm not being nice. I genuinely care about you and want you to be happy, Satan." He nuzzles into my hand, his crying not ceasing a bit.

"You are the one brother who restrains himself from his sin the most," I wipe with my thumb, caressing another hot tear away from his cheek. "You bottle it up and-- you're like me, using escapism instead of dealing with your issues," I give him a teary smile. "You try so hard to keep yourself in line, and it's admirable; I love how much you care. Just... Let yourself be upset, okay? Scream and cry and let it out." I keep my voice soft, empathetic as I let myself tell him what I need to hear at times like these.

A wail escapes him at my last sentence, and he shakes his head, his voice raising despite himself. "I don't-- I don't want to scare you, Y/n." His hand reaches up to hold mine to his face.

"You won't," I kiss his forehead. "I promise."

Seemingly before he can stop it, a strangled scream escapes him, his head thrown back and his hands now gripping at the sides of my hoodie as he releases scream after scream, their echoes through the dining hall drowning out anything else.