"The Volleyball Team Doesn't Have Parties." Your Eyes Narrow At Your Friend. "To Be Fair No One At This

"The volleyball team doesn't have parties." Your eyes narrow at your friend. "To be fair no one at this school really has parties but least of all the volleyball team...What kind of prank are you trying to pull?"

"I'm not. But since they lost the inter-high and they're not going to nationals..." he leans over his side of the library table and drops his voice, "...the guess monster convinced the other third years to host a...thing...I don't know, something! Before we all graduate."

You roll your eyes. "He has a name."

"I know," snips your friend. He watches your gaze drop back to your book, picking up notes where you left off. "Well?"

"Well what?" you ask without looking up.

"Do you want to go?"

With a snort you reply "no."

"Aren't you the least bit curious about them?" His voice curls salaciously. "They're the elite--"

"Everyone at this school is an elite," you remind him.

"Of the elite," he amends. "C'mon...I know you've got a huge crush on-"

You slam your pen down and glare at him. "Finish that sentence and it'll be the last thing you ever say."

He smirks under your full attention. "Promise to go?"

"No." You smile derisively. "I have literally no interest and I won't be manipulated into going."

He huffs and drops the topic as you get back to work.

"Last chance to come," he prompts, stopping by your room later.

"No thanks," you reply without looking up from the line of text. He huffs admonishingly but leaves without further argument.

It's pleasingly quiet in the dorms.

You're sure most of the other students have gone to the volleyball team's event and it just reinforces your decision not to go.

You're not here to make friends.

You're not here to find yourself or your place in the world.

No, Shiratorizawa serves only one purpose for you.

It is a stepping stone.

An escape.

You've worked hard to get into the most prestigious high school, achieving the best marks while you're here to give yourself the highest launching point to get as far away from here as possible.

And from the way the options sprawl out before you, you're almost free.

Finding yourself will come after you find a way out.

Tokyo, Paris, London, Seattle; the acceptances have poured in and you can taste the finish line.

The freedom.

You won't jeopardize that with meaningless distractions.

Pouring your heart and soul into every subject, you've been recognized by almost every teacher you've had. Almost every peer, too. From those who've spent their whole academic career trying to catch you, drag you down, cheer you on, or chew you up. Your name is renowned.

Your future is envied.

"I told you I'm not going," you say sternly to the knock on your door.

"How do you know that's why I'm here?"

You jump with a gasp, turning sharply in your seat toward the door and see Tendō Satori leaning against your doorframe all lean muscle and cool confidence.

You scrutinize his lazy smile with a tight gaze. "Why are you here, then?"

"I didn't see you at the party." He crosses his arms, eyes never leaving yours. "I was curious what you were doing instead."

"Well," you gesture across your desk, turning back to it, "now you know."

He lingers in the doorway, not asking for your attention but distracting you all the same.

You ask stiffly "is there something else you wanted?"

"You."

Snap; the tip of your pencil breaks off in shock.

You're too embarrassed to look at him so you just stare at your books hearing the smirk in his voice.

"I was hoping I would have an excuse to cross your path, an opportunity to be subtle at the party but I should have known better."

Your heart's beginning to thrum.

Yes, you're aware of the guess monster. The eccentric genius whose personality and character are even more alluring than his performance on the court. But attraction is distraction and the future is uncertain so for the past three years you've ignored any curiosity toward the appealing red-head.

The fact that he's here now...what he's implying... you're not sure you believe it.

When you don't say anything he prompts "do you understand? I threw the party for a chance to hangout with you."

The concept of it is too tough to understand, like a lump in your throat.

"I...I understand..." you admit.

Can he hear how hard your pulse beats in the quiet?

"And?"

"And what?" You fight every urge to look at him.

"How does that make you feel?"

After a moment of sluggish consideration you reply "I'm...flattered...Tendō, really. I am. But, I need to study."

He hums from the doorway, unsatisfied. "That didn't really answer my question."

"I don't know how to answer it, then." You stare at the pencil in your fingers as you twist it. "Or maybe I don't understand what you're trying to ask."

"I'm asking if you'd like to hangout with me."

Of course you would.

The answer is right there on the tip of your tongue but it feels like saying it would puncture some intangible bubble, destroying the path to your future.

"Let me ask a different way," he says slowly, gently. "Can I...hangout with you?"

Your eyes flick to him with a frown because it has to be obvious that you're in the middle of studying right now and not interested in just hanging out.

That's when you notice his backpack.

He smiles wryly.

"You mean..." The creases of your frown deepen. "You..."

He nods. "Can I study with you?"

"Why would you want to do that?" you ask, face screwing up as you gesture. "There's a party going on right now with your friends. A party you literally organized."

"Only to spend time with you," he amends holding up a finger and you gape in exasperation.

"I don't know, Tendō." Rubbing your forehead you grimace. "It's..."

He waits patiently, far longer than anyone else would and you realize what you have to say is just that important to him.

With a slow, steadying breath you meet his eye and confess. "I don't want to stay here...I've worked hard all this time to escape...And I'm... scared..."

"Of stumbling on a reason to stay?"

Something clicks into place within you. Like a puzzle piece perfectly fitting with another, you feel seen.

Understood.

You nod.

He looks hesitant now, eyes still gauging your reactions. "What if...that reason... wasn't going to stay either."

Your chest tingles with implication but you hold it at bay again, denying the suggestion. "What do you mean?" you ask nervously.

Tendō cautiously straightens up as if facing something head-on. "What if...when you escape...you weren't alone? What if a reason to stay...became..."

"A commonality to leave?"

Tendō's eyes shine and he smiles, mirroring the pining hope dawning inside of you, too.

There's a flash of images through your mind: saying goodbye to family and friends, boarding a plane, walking down a cobblestone street with the Eiffel tower twinkling in the distance.

Your heart skips a beat because you've imagined these things before but, for the first time, you imagine you aren't alone.

"So..." He asks, failing to hold back a wry smile. "Can I join you?"

DREAMS, FAIRYTALES, & FANTASIES (WHEN YOU'RE AROUND ME)

synopsis: sakusa thinks your confidence is sexy. give him a twirl, won't you?

warnings: flirty!sakusa, suggestive, allusions to sex but nothing graphic i promise, reader is fine as hell, sakusa is horny because reader is fine as hell, swearing probably, proof read exactly one (1) time, can someone please buy me a skims dress

SAKUSA has always been comfortable in the role of an observer. Distant. Disconnected. Always calculating. There’s so much you can learn about a person by just watching them.

“Do I look okay?” You ignore the intensity of his stare, smoothing away any wrinkles in your skintight dress with a sweaty palm, “It’s not too much for a company dinner?” 

Kiyoomi’s eyes sweep up and down your figure, before flicking them up to meet yours through the mirror.

“I’m not sure,” He hums, doing a terrible job at hiding his intentions, a lazy smile on his handsome face, “C’mere for a second.”

Abandoning the array of makeup on your vanity, you skitter over to where he sits on the edge of your shared bed. Kiyoomi’s gaze almost has a physical presence; you can practically feel his eyes on you.

“Give me a twirl, pretty.” 

You laugh easily, giving into his request and making a show spinning on your heels to highlight every angle of your outfit. He offers a low whistle in return. 

“This dress is a little tight, no?” You can hear his smirk.

“Is that a problem?” You sass, breath catching a bit when you feel the calluses of his hand smooth over your waist and hips, dipping down to toy with the exposed skin of your thigh at the hem of your dress.

“Not at all,” He responds with a breathy chuckle, “You look beautiful, baby. I love how confident you are when you get dolled up.”

“Y-Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he parrots, a little breathless because you always seem to have that effect on him, “It’s unbelievably sexy.”

Like an alligator nabs its prey, Sakusa’s arms reach out to you, pulling you into his lap. He chuckles a bit when you squeal, feeling the vibrations of the sound everywhere.

“God, you look amazing.” He mumbles to the sweet skin of your neck, like it’s a secret belonging only to him, “I’m sorry I couldn’t come with you. I would love to be your accessory for the night.” 

You giggle at the comment, ”Accessory?”

“Accessory might be too kind of a word, actually.” He jokes, “I’d look like hot garbage standing next to you. God, how could you settle like this?”

“Stop!” You playfully demand, not a fan of his self-deprecating sense of humor, “I happen to find you quite handsome! You look good! Sexy, even!”

“Wrong,” he hums to the shell of your ear, wrapping his arms around you and pulling tight because somehow sitting on his lap wasn’t close enough for him, “You make me look good. I love showing you off.”

“You’re a terrible flirt.” You soften at his admission, angling his head with a manicured finger and closing the space between the two of you. Slotting your lips against his, you let Kiyoomi lead, the kiss keeping a lazy rhythm. It’s all tongue and soft sucking; slow because you know he’ll miss you, even over a few hours. You pull away dissatisfied–no amount of kisses will ever be enough, “I love you.” It’s barely above a whisper.

“I love you, too.” You can see the hearts in his eyes, “Be safe tonight, okay? Call me if anything.”

You nod, wiping away flecks of red that transferred from your lips to his, “You’re still picking me up?”

“And dropping you off.” He confirms. 

You frown a bit, suddenly nervous again, “Is it lame if I show up early? What time do you think we should leave?”

“Well, you have two options,” He grins, “We can leave now and get there by 7. Very much on time.”

“And the other?” He grins, equal parts flirtatious and predatory, pointed canines coming into view, “We fuck right now and you show up fashionably late.”

(jump cut to reader showing up 90 minutes late with a dopey smile and a poorly-hid hickey on her neck. the camera pans to reader also leaving early LMAOO)

Haikyuu boys you meet while pet-sitting

Daichi, Matsukawa, Kuroo, Ushijima x afab reader Word count: ~1.6k Tags & warnings: Smut, smut, n more SMUT-MDNI, thigh riding, dom (teeny tiny), praise, p in v, creampie (implied), oral sex (m and f receiving), hair pulling, fingering, throat fucking, I love a man that smells good and has a sexy voice

Note: New year, same horny me. This got out of hand. Recently did a lot of pet-sitting and I wish any (all) of this happened. It’s my first time writing smut - thoughts & constructive criticism welcome

You meet Daichi before you even start cat-sitting. Due to a last-minute itinerary change, your friend flew out a day early and left her extra key with a neighbor for you to pick up. He opens the door dressed in a t-shirt and shorts and you’re reduced to a stammering mess as you gape at his immense biceps and thighs, trying to explain that you’re the cat-sitter and sorry for disturbing him but could you please get your friend’s key?

Daichi is too polite to comment on your wandering eyes and nervous stuttering, but he’s smirking to himself after he closes his door. Unfortunately for your composure, he suddenly finds himself needing to borrow a lot of things. Could he get some sugar? One of his best friends is an elementary school teacher, you see, and he wants to bring some cookies for the kids when he goes for a class visit. Does your friend have a wrench he can use? You don’t know where it is? Well, why doesn’t he come in to help you find it? You get used to seeing him every day, although he makes you short circuit each time, your nerves constantly on edge because he’s always murmuring things in your ear (he doesn’t want to startle you by yelling) or accidentally brushing against you (he can’t help it, he’s just so broad).

He finally decides to stop teasing you and asks you out to dinner. He’s so sweet and funny, and you find that when you’re not too flustered to function, you really enjoy his company, so much so that you invite him in for a drink afterward. The alcohol must have gone to straight to your pussy though because you quickly find yourself straddling him, absolutely intoxicated by his deep voice and masculine scent. You’re drenched and you can feel him straining against his pants, but he doesn’t want to rush it with you. He exudes natural authority, which is why you don’t let out a peep of protest when he tells you to ride his thigh first. He sits back with his hands behind his head and drinks in your furrowed brow and desperate whimpers as you grind yourself against his rock-hard muscle, cooing, “You’re doing so good, baby. Be really good and cum for me and I’ll give you a big reward.”

You’re confused when you call for your friend’s cat to come inside one night only to see her climb out of the neighbor’s window. The neighbor in question, Matsukawa, steps out onto the shared balcony and is just as confused to see you. You tell him you’re cat-sitting and he explains that your friend’s cat likes to sit on his laptop while he works. It turns into a comfortable routine to talk with him in the evenings while you wait for the cat to return. He’s incredibly handsome, but more than that he’s magnetic, witty, and has an absolutely lewd sense of humor that he’s surprised you love.

What you don’t know is that he’s got a major problem with you. The problem being he’s confused - no, frustrated - by why you’ve suddenly started wearing a shirt so flimsy it leaves nothing to the imagination. Every night, he struggles to keep himself from fixating on the swell of your breasts and the outline of your nipples poking through the sheer fabric. When he retreats to his apartment after your chats, he’s so worked up he has to fuck his fist, picturing how you’d look underneath him, glassy-eyed and drooling with his cum all over those pretty tits and leaking out of your pussy.

After a solid week, he decides enough is enough and invites you over. The two of you barely make it more than 10 minutes. He’s pouring you a drink when you confess you’ve been wearing that shirt on purpose after seeing him out on a run. In a flash, Issei’s got you bent over his kitchen counter, pulling your panties to the side. He barely needs to prep you because you’ve been looking forward to this all day, cursing under his breath as his fingers slide in with little resistance. He pulls your head back by your hair and growls into your ear while he rails you from behind, “If you’re gonna tease me, you better be ready to show me what this tight little pussy can do.” You barely register what he’s saying because the only thing you can focus on is how full you feel with each delicious drag of his thick cock against your slick walls. His cum drips down your thighs as he reaches between your legs one more time. “Gonna cum on my cock again baby?”

You first see Kuroo one morning while walking your friend’s dog. He’s out on a run with his own dog and you’d have to be a statue to be impervious to how his shirt clings to his chest. He sees you checking him out and decides to give you a show by lifting up the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his neck. Except he accidentally uses the same hand that’s holding the leash, causing his dog to pull him forward flat onto his face. After you make sure they’re both ok, you let yourself laugh so hard you get a stomachache.

You wonder if you’ll run into him again after that fiasco. He must be shameless because he makes sure to leave the house at the same time the next morning to catch you. He’s more sheepish this time, though he still drops some cheesy jokes. You run into him every morning after that, and every evening too. He always stops to chat. You give him shit for how unfunny he is, but he lives to hear your groans when he comes up with an especially terrible line. You two fluster each other constantly. His stomach flutters on the rare instances he actually makes you laugh - loudly and genuinely - at something he says. Meanwhile, you’re speechless when he starts running without a shirt on (because it’s hot out and not for any other reason), eyes hungrily taking in every inch of corded muscle. He smirks when he catches you gawking at him yet again, “Want me to ask you over or something?” Let me tell you, that false bravado slips right off when you reply, “Yea, I’d like that,” and suddenly he’s the one that's a stuttering wreck.

You go over to watch a movie together that night, but don’t get far because it’s adorable how he fidgets with his hair and his cheeky grin is so charming and he smells so enticing that it’s impossible to keep your hands to yourself. He shoos his dog out of the bedroom when you get down to business because “I don’t want her to see this.” As ridiculous as this man is, he is an artiste when it comes to eating pussy. He’s got you cumming around his tongue and fingers for the fourth time and doesn’t show any signs of slowing down. You’re gasping for breath, barely able to form a coherent thought, cunt drenched and clenching and begging for him to fuck you already. “Cum for me one more time baby, then I’ll do whatever you want.” But he’s said that three times already.

You’re intimidated when Ushijima opens his door but not too intimidated to ogle him as drops of sweat glide down his naked torso. You’ve interrupted him in the middle of a workout, but how were you to know? You just wanted to hand over a package that had been misdelivered to your friend’s apartment next door. You watch the way his muscles ripple as he reaches for the box, and he watches you brazenly eyefuck him (to be fair, his pecs are right there, not to mention the shadow of something massive in his shorts).

After that, he always offers a polite hello in the hallway, but never initiates conversation and only gives you one-word responses, so you figure he’s not interested. It’s disappointing, but at least you can still fantasize about him, moaning his name while knuckle deep in your soaking cunt, desperately wishing it was his thick fingers instead. You hear a knock and hurriedly throw on a robe to find Ushijima at the door. He clears his throat. “Were you…calling for me?” SHIT. You forgot to close the windows. If only the ground would swallow you whole right now so you don’t have to stammer out an excuse, any excuse.

But then you notice the nervous bob of his adam’s apple and the bulge in his pants, and you find yourself asking if he came over to help. He nods, following you to the couch obediently like a huge puppy. He’s so timid at first, letting out sweet little whines when you wrap your lips around him, barely able to fit a few inches in your mouth. But now he’s grunting like a feral thing as he fists your hair, slamming his cock over and over again into the back of your throat, unable to hold back as he chases his own release. And after he pumps your throat full of cum, you’re going to count yourself the luckiest bitch in the world as you slowly sink your dripping pussy down onto his fat cock. “Are you sure I’ll fit?” he whispers in a haze, watching your eyes roll back as he disappears inside of you inch by inch.

Note 2: Pussydrunk Kuroo or bust. Ok but now I’m thinking about how hilarious (read: horny & amazing) reader’s life would be if this was all in the same apartment complex and happening at the same time

He Knows

GN!MC X Obey Me characters

Lucifer knows - that he should restrain himself. That he's smiling too much, too openly around you. That the day he lays definite claim on you, the chaos in the house will be enough to set it on fire.

That the closest he can be to you is behind closed doors, when you are sitting next to him, helping him verify documents and applications from the Student Council. He knows and yet his hand reaches for yours as you are about to leave.

"Why don't you stay the night here, MC?"

💫

Mammon knows - that you deserve so much more than him. That he keeps calling himself Great in hopes that he'll someday believe himself. That you're one bad day away from your seemingly endless patience running out.

That right even though, you're looking at him as if you'll never love anyone else now, it might just be temporary. Yet, he sinks his head deeper into your lap and mumbles softly.

"Being your first enough. Make me your last too, MC, please."

💫

Leviathan knows - that he's being selfish. That you're constantly sacrificing your own desires to meet his and he's not stopping you. That your little finger is worth more than his entire existence and you're endlessly kind to give him even a minute of your precious time.

That even though you're sitting here laughing and nudging him, you deserve to be with people who can match your dazzling energy. He knows and yet he turns to look at you with his sheepish smile you like.

"Want a play a few more rounds, MC?"

💫

Satan knows - that he's one of the biggest threats to your life in the house. That no matter how hard he represses his rage, it will always be utterly destructive when it comes out. That you're the last person he wants to hurt. That it might only take one wrong move to harm your fragile body beyond repair.

That even though you look so content leaning on him as you read from the same book, he'd much rather lock himself away to keep you safe. And yet, he lets you rest your head on his shoulder, running his fingers through your hair.

"You can lean in closer if it makes you comfortable, MC."

💫

Asmodeus knows - that his beauty is useless when it comes to you. That your soul shines much brighter than his ever did. That no matter how much his improves his night-time skin routine, he can never really charm you the way he can do with others.

That his heart beats faster when you merely touch his cheek and tell him how cute he looks blushing. That even though you call him gorgeous no matter, his beauty alone won't be enough. Yet he keeps dressing up for you, twirling for you as you cheer him on.

"Keep looking at me, MC."

💫

Beelzebub knows - that his hunger will one day be a nuisance to you. That you learned to eat less so you can push more of your food onto his plate. That he might end up eating a good amount of human world food that was meant especially for you. That your stomach often roars softly in class because you gave him your lunch.

That despite all that you still smile excitedly when it's your turn to cook, proudly an extra large batch to fill his appetite. And yet, he lets you feed him with your hands, getting extra large plates so there's always enough left for you.

"Now it's my turn to feed you, MC. Say ahh."

💫

Belphegor knows - that he can never truly be redeemed. That you are far too forgiving for your own good and he hates taking advantage of that. That he can't deny it when you so nonchalantly offer your shoulder for him to sleep on. That he can't give up on this escapist bliss and bring himself to apologise for that night.

That he tries to fall asleep before you because he gets afraid if he stares at your closed eyes for too long. That when you fall asleep next to him, he often checks your neck for your pulse and the hideous marks of his sin. Yet he curls up closer, offering his pillow for you to share.

"You can lay next to me whenever you're tired, MC."

"No...No, he's not."

Kuroo smirks confidently. "He is."

"From..From Italy?" You glance at the signature on the contract as your pulse steadily builds. "Kageyama's really coming all the way back from Italy for the all-star match?!"

When Kuroo nods you start to hyperventilate. "No way. He's not."

"Yes, way." Kuroo grins like the Cheshire cat. "I assure you: he is."

"Does...Does Hinata know?" you ask between erratic breaths, not waiting for an answer. "When did you--When did he--"

Kuroo snorts, shaking his head incredulously at your disbelief. "You're acting like you're not already friends with Kageyama, like you don't even know him when--"

"When we even dated. I know. I know!" you pant and Kuroo puts his hands on your shoulders. "Ohmygod, Kuroo. I can't--"

Someone else walks up to your office and pauses, eyes widening on-guard before they slowly back away.

"Breathe," Kuroo insists. "I know you're excited but you can't pass out right now. Okay?"

Your breathing only returns to normal after he promises to tell you the details of the all-star arrangements.

It's been...too long...since you've seen Tobio. You parted amicably after the Olympics when the offer for Ali Roma came up and he couldn't turn it down. You agreed to stay friends and you genuinely wanted to...but the time zones and demanding careers had inhibited both of your abilities to stick to that agreement.

His absence has been too painful to acknowledge.

You know the all-star match is only an intermission from his current life but you can't help counting down the days excitedly.

And, as promised, Kuroo makes sure you're there on the day they all gather.

"Well, well, well, look what tha cat dragged in," says Miya in greeting, the first to notice you when you walk in with Kuroo.

You don't have time for the blonde today. "Shut it, 'Tsumu. I'm here to see the best setter in the world."

He scoffs, scandalized. You knew you were going to be accosted by old friends and thought you properly prepared yourself to say hi to everyone but as heads turn and a fluff of orange starts to bound toward you...you're a lot more anxious than you realized.

"The best setter in the world, you say?" a suave voice coos and a tall man drapes an arm around Hinata's shoulders. "Shōyo-san, won't you introduce your friend here to the best setter in the world?"

You grit your teeth. "I already know him."

"Surely not because we haven't met yet." He gives you a charming smile. "Oikawa To--"

"Oh I don't need to meet you." Your eyes narrow, smile getting tighter as more friends crowd but none of them are the face you want to see. The brunette leaning on Hinata opens his mouth to say something but you hold up a finger. "Hang on," you pat yourself up and down as if checking pockets, "Did I..." you frown dramatically, "Nope. I didn't bring a single fuck today so I don't have any to give you."

Miya has to turn away to hide a howl of laughter and Kuroo mutters your name, a warning.

"Oh, shit. Wait." You reach into your back pocket. "Sorry. Here you go" --you stick your middle finger up at him and storm through the crowd, patience long gone-- "just for you."

There are cackles of laughter and Kuroo looks like he's about to throw you out despite Oikawa's unphased smirk but you're finally able to step away from the group.

Down the court he's standing in service position and looks up from the ball twirling in his hands.

Kageyama grins.

You run.

Worried for a moment that he won't be happy to see you, your heart nearly explodes when he closes the last few steps with his own and opens his arms. You leap and he catches you, ball still clutched in his ridiculously strong hands.

"I've missed you," you murmur as he crushes you against him.

He simply nods in return.

You milk everything out of his time in Japan, day and night. Every moment he's willing to spare, even wearing his jersey to the match despite protests of favoritism from other athletes.

Before he leaves he does something uncharacteristically sweet and opens up, vulnerably admitting how much he misses you.

"I'm not ready to leave you again." He's anxious when he asks "come with me?"

You cup his cheeks, your own burning with the strength of your smile. "Sì."

To Capture A Demon's Heart

Mammon lovers I bestow upon you my apology fic. Please, rise up and come get your boy.

I fell for him a bit more writing this frfr

Pairing: gn!reader x Mammon (romantic feelings heavily implied, no established relationship, but don't you worry - you're working on that)

TW: Mention of Lucifer's punishments, Uhuhuh awkward discussion of infernal courting behaviors, mentions of violence, lmk if there''s anything else to add, ty!

Word Count: ~5,000

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

On the rug before you lay two options: “The Wicked Woes of Demonessa” or “To Capture a Beating Heart”. 

You flip over both DVD cases to skim their synopses, fingers trailing over the printed leads in all their infernal glory. You snort to yourself at the crossroads Asmodeus has supplied you with and wonder which would be better: an all-demon romance or a demon-human romance?

Ah-actually, the question should be: which would be easier to convince Mammon to watch with you?

The answer, as always, is neither. But that won't stop you from trying.

You shake your head, a smile pulling at your lips at the thought of how he'll react to your movie selection tonight. He's late, but with good reason, so you'll forgive him. Punishment by Lucifer is punishment enough. 

You kneel up from your position on the floor, rubbing out the pins and needles that had started to form. When all feeling returns to you, you reach under your bed to drag out the thick faux fur blanket Mammon had gifted you for your birthday this year. Custom-made, a pattern of your favorite hideously-cute zombie iguana plushies are plastered across the golden spread. You push your face into the fabric, its velvety softness tickling your skin, and inhale. It smells of the same smoky cedarwood that sticks to his skin. 

You toss it onto your bed and climb up after. One-by-one you adjust your pillows so that they rest upright against the mossy wall and face the TV. You take care to put more support on your side, anticipating he'll eventually stop resisting and cuddle up to you as he often does. When you're finally satisfied with the distribution, you hop off the bed to snatch your wallet from the table nearby. You dig inside until your finger bumps into what you're looking for; a golden grimm coin. 

Both titles are appealing enough that you're impartial to either, so you'll just do a coin toss. You're more interested in the cute expressions Mammon will show you tonight anyway. 

You flip the coin off your thumb, catch it in your palm, and lay it flat on the back of your hand. You lift your palm and grin - it's head. “The Wicked Woes of Demonessa” it is. 

A knock sounds at your door.

"Hey, Human, It's me. Open the door!" You hum to yourself, bending down to pick up just one of the DVDs. You stash both your wallet and “To Capture a Beating Heart” into your backpack and plop it into the chair farthest from the bed. You look over your room one more time and nod before walking over to open the door.

There waits your pouty demon, hair all mussed up with arms crossed over his broad chest. 

"Some nerve you got, making me wait!" He huffs. You flash him a toothy smile, tugging him inside by his elbow and shutting the door behind him.

"Happy to see you too, Mam." A light flush rises to his cheeks.

"Y-yeah..happytoseeyatooidiot," he grumbles. "Did'ya pick out a movie yet?" His eyes skitter away from you to appraise your set-up. 

Dimmed fairy lights, honey-scented candle sticks lit on golden candelabras, and the golden pendant he'd gifted you during your first year in the Devildom rests proudly over the collar of your pajama shirt. Everything is intentional. Everything is for him. 

"Sure did!" You saunter over towards your bed and bend over to pick up the DVD case from off the rug. You go to open the case, but a lack of following footfalls distracts you. You look over your shoulder to find him fidgeting in the middle of your room. 

You frown. "What's wrong Mam?" 

"W-what's that smell?" His eyes flicker to and fro, scanning your space for the source.  

"Uh, well I lit some scented candles. If they're too sweet for you I can turn them off, no problem." You toss the case onto your bed before heading for the coffin-shaped bookshelf in the back. You pick through a small black lace basket filled with spell tools you're borrowing from Solomon. 

You forget sometimes how heightened their senses are compared to yours. 

"You don't gotta go making a big deal out of it. A little sweetness ain't nothin' to the Great Mammon."  He chuckles loud and proud, but you catch the way he clenches his fists at his side.

"It "ain't nothin'" if it bothers you, Mam." You admonish. You finally find the candle snuffer and lift it out of the basket. "Your comfort is my priority, alright?"

He sputters, eyes wide, and you shoot him a soft smile as you move over to the first candelabra. "Really, it's no trouble."

Before you can snuff out the first candle stick, a firm hand wraps around your wrist. "Nah, s'fine. I..I like it." Your heart does a little flip at the admission, but as you glance down at the back of his hand you frown. 

"Aw, what happened here?" Your free hand traces the indentations pressed into his skin. They aren't too deep, but they seem a little aggravated. 

"Tsch," he releases you to shove both his hands into his jacket pockets. A slight crinkle catches your attention as they settle into the tight space, but you'll worry about that later. 

"Hey, none of that. No hiding." You place the snuffer onto the table and turn to him. You hold out your hands, palms up, and wait. Mammon can only shuffle his feet and avoid your eyes for so long.

"He's getting all creative now! Damn sadist."

You purse your lips and sigh out of your nose. Lucifer only had his brother's best interests in mind, but his methods could be awfully draconian at the worst of times. You'd seen in the group chat this morning that Mammon had tried to sell photos he sneaked out of Diavolo's private chambers. You haven't a clue of how he got past Barbatos of all beings, but you don't put it past him, he certainly is one of the most driven individuals you'd ever met. Undoubtedly, Mammon tested his luck and crossed several boundaries, but your heart aches for him. He's always hated sharing the weakest parts of himself.

"We don't have to talk about it. Will you just let me help you out a bit?" You bat your eyelashes when he finally meets your gaze. He scoffs and shrugs his shoulders.

"Can't keep your hands off me, can ya?" You quirk a brow at him, a knowing look on your face. You start to lower your hands slowly, purposefully.

"That's alright, Mam. I wouldn't want to force you." Before your hands can drop to your side, he clutches them in his own.

"Who said anything about force?! See," his hands squeeze your own, "all good to go." You drag your thumbs over the knuckles encasing your own.

"Go ahead and sit down, I'll join you in a sec." You gesture to the bed and your heart does happy little flips when he gravitates straight to the zombie-iguana blanket.

"Ya still got tha damn thing?" The question comes out soft, too soft, that you wonder if it was for you to begin with.

"Course I do. My first man gave it to me!" You can't stop yourself from laughing at the way his shoulders shoot up to his ears.

"Y-yeah," he attempts to catch himself as you walk back over to the bookshelf and dig into another basket, "It was a hassle to get it made, so don't go lettin' anybody else mess with it."

"Don't worry," you tease from the other side of the room. You can't resist the opportunity to rile up his greed, "I only take it out for our movie nights."

Sparing his dignity, you don't look up from the basket as you hear him choke a bit. When he calms down you grab the lotion-salve you'd made about a week ago, good for healing any minor wounds. Smelling of bergamot with hints of lavender, it's your proudest achievement thus far.

"Actually, speaking of our movie nights...," you stand and make your way over to the bed. Already, he's shoved off his jacket and shoes, making himself at home among the pillows. As your eyes scan his toned arms you're reminded that you quite literally have a model in your bed.

"This is the first one we've had in a while, huh?" He spreads his legs as you come closer, signaling for you to sit in between them. As you join him, his eyes soften and he holds out his hands for you to take. You're humbled by the trust he places in you.

You squirt some lotion into your hand and rub your palms together to warm it up before you reach for him. He sniffs the air and sits up a bit.

"The hells that?" 

You cock your head. Does he really not like the smell this time?

"You mean the lotion?"

"Yeah! Did Asmo give you that? I don't want that flowery shit." Ah, the real issue isn't the lotion itself . Rather, that another demon may have given it to you. Despite the laugh begging to spill forth from your lips, you manage to cool your expression.

You slowly massage the cream into your skin, biting your lip at the low warning growl that leaves him. You just had to be sure. "No, Mam. Asmodeus didn't give this one to me. I made it myself." His posture relaxes considerably.

That is, until you open your mouth again.

"But, if you don't like the smell I can go give it to him. He'd probably like it, right? I can go real qu-" You don't get to finish your sentence as his hand grasps the front of your shirt, tugging you forward until you're trapped in his arms.

"Ya ain't goin nowhere."  Goosebumps prick at your skin in response to this growl. It's not a warning. It's daring you to try your luck. You move quickly to return his embrace, smoothing your hands over his backside to reassure him. "You're stayin' here with me, understand?" Warmth flows through you from head to toe. 

"So, you don't find the scent completely and utterly repulsive?" Your hands trail upwards to massage his shoulders, pushing and prodding the tense muscles. He flinches, but doesn't stop you. 

"Ah, hold on!" Something clicks as he snaps back from you, holding you back by your shoulders. "Nobody said anythin' about being repulsed! Who said they're repulsed? Not me!" 

"Oh, good!" You pull his hands off your shoulders, dropping them onto your lap as you reach over for the lotion. Again, you warm it up between your hands. "Then just sit still, alright?"

He goes down quietly, too quietly, that you make sure to watch his face for any discomfort as you reach for the first hand. A touch to his skin surprises you. His hand is rougher than you expect, but you mask your curiosity and don't hesitate to place your hands atop his. The last thing you want is for him to recede into himself when you've finally gotten this far into whatever is happening between the two of you. You can ask about the rough calluses on his palm another day.

You start with the lines indented over his fingers, carefully kneading the skin as he hisses under his breath. His eyes, a blend of ocean and golden sun, remain transfixed on where your skin meets. But, his face is marred by a deep frown that makes your blood run cold. Did you overstep somewhere? 

"What's running through your mind?" You work your way onto his palm, tenderly rubbing the faded scars littered across the expanse of skin. The lotion can't heal something that has already come to pass. Nor can you, but you'll hold him here for as long as he'll let you. 

A sigh leaves him. "Don't go treatin' me like I'm fragile. I'm supposed to protect you, got it?"

 He's right, he's not fragile. Beneath the glamor he's taut, tough skin, with sharp fangs and leathery wings that could tear you to shreds. But, he's also the same demon who seeks you out for comfort after punishments or a big loss at the casino. The same demon who sits through horror movies if it means he'll have an excuse to spend the night with you. The demon who would truly do anything you asked of him - and that's not a power you wield lightly. 

You pat his hand with a smile to let him know you're finished and hold out your hands for him once more. You'll let him decide if he wants to continue.

"Hey, don't you dare ignore me!" Plopping his hand into yours immediately defeats the tough tone he's put on. You start from the top and repeat the motion, fingers to palm. A rush of boldness overcomes you as you press into the callouses. You adore this demon. You wish he could see himself the way you see him. 

"I know you're not fragile, Mam." You finish up the massage, but don't let go. You watch as the indentations gradually fade into even skin. "But, you're precious to me. I treasure what's precious to me. You get that, don't you?" 

Your stomach drops as silence greets you. At the very least, you think, it's a good sign that he hasn't pulled his hand away from you. You drop both of your hands into your lap and fidget with his fingers.

"You mean that?" You never knew Mammon's voice could sound so meek. 

You lift your eyes to his, grasping his hand tightly between your own. Wide eyes, mouth parted, and brows furrowed. Even like this, he's a vision.

"I mean it, Mam." 

At once, his cheeks are aflame. "I-you!" He stammers. A laugh rips from your chest, relieved that he didn't a) run out of the room or b) hide away from you. You want to tease him more, but you hold back. Instead, you reach over to pick up the DVD from off your comforter and savor this milestone between the two of you.

"Ready for the movie?" You ask, getting up from the bed.

"Huh? Oh that, yeah, yeah." He seems a bit dazed. 

"You feeling ok?" You lean over, lifting your hand to feel his forehead, but his hand catches yours before you reach him. 

"I'm fine! The hell we watching anyway?" You use your free hand to show him the DVD cover. The two demonic leads stand before each other, hand in hand, leaning in for a kiss under the title. 

"The Wicked Woes of Demonessa?!" He sounds exasperated. "W-where'd you get that junk?! We ain't watching that!"

"What, why not?" You pout, giving him puppy dog eyes.

"That's some mind poison! All it's good for is rottin' ya brain." He snarls, but you know you've got him. A little nudging is all he needs.

"Oh." You sigh, purposefully. "Well, if you don't want to watch it with me, I'm sure Beel or Mo wouldn't mind." "Like he-" "Or-" You counter before he can start running his mouth. "We can watch another movie I borrowed as a back-up."

Mammon eyes you suspiciously. "What other movie are ya hidin', human?"

You have to be a little evil in this back-and-forth or you'll never get anywhere. So, you shuffle over to the TV stand and grab the unopened DVD case resting next to the DVD player. You show him the cover and watch as he immediately recoils.

"ARE YA CRAZY?!" He shrieks. A myriad of ghosts with tormented expressions erupt from the house that rests above the title that reads: The Horrible Haunting of Hollow Hill Manner. 

"What?" You ask like it's not the most peculiar and pointed selection to ensure you two watch your movie of choice this evening.

"What?" He mocks your casual tone. "Who're ya borrowin' that from?"

"Satan." Your smile comes easy. "He recommended this one, it's a murder mystery that takes place in a haunted house. Apparently, it's based on a true story."

"A TRUE WHAT?!" He throws the fur blanket over himself, leaving only his head submerged. 

"Mammon," you snort, "you're literally one of the most powerful beings in existence. Fourth most powerful in all the Devildom."

You can't see his chest puff up, but you know him well enough to know it does. 

"E-exactly!" He exclaims. "I can take on anything. Some cheap old trick movie like that won't scare me, nuh-uh, it'll  just be a snoozefest."

"I see," you smirk, "then some cliche romance flick shouldn't be too bad, right? Wouldn't want you falling asleep on me." Hook, line, and sinker.

You pay Mammon's complaints no mind as you open the DVD case and pull out the disk. You pop it into the DVD player, thrilled you get to watch a classic demonic romance unfold. You've been curious for some time now about how romance in the Devildom differs from the Human Realm. The plot seemed entertaining enough, but really you were curious about the customs. You wanted to woo him on his terms, in a way he couldn't blow off as some human schtick. 

You press play and pad back over to your bed. He's pouty, so you decide to sit next to him and hold out on getting under the blanket with him.You'll wait until the mood passes and give him his space.You can feel his stare digging into you as the opening soundtrack plays, but you manage to keep your focus on the screen. For a couple of minutes you two sit like this.

"Why're ya bein' like that?" He accuses.

"Like what?" You snap your head to him, eyes widening as you see him sit up, blanket falling off his shoulders and into his lap.

"Distant." He huffs, looking away from you. "Y-you said you treasure what's precious to ya, right?" 

Your heart is about to fucking explode. You don't waste a minute, wrapping your arm around his and tugging at him to face you. 

"You looked upset, so I wanted to give you your space." You utter, softly. "Would you be ok if I joined you under the blanket?" 

He scoffs, lifting the blanket up and over you. "Like ya even hav'ta ask." Earlier in the night than you've anticipated, he cuddles into your side with his head resting on your chest. You can't read his face from this angle, but a subdued purr rumbling through him assures you he's comfortable. 

You two sit like this throughout the first half of the movie. It's an interesting premise concentrated on the love between a demon of nobility and a commoner of great strength who has been hired to train the noble in the art of war.  Later on, it's revealed that the commoner's unprecedented strength is due to them being an illegitimate child of a Great General of the East. The noble's father, a Recordkeeper, has hidden away documents proving the commoner's lineage at their father's request. Thus, they come to the castle under the guise of an instructor and soon find their plans disrupted when they begin to fall for the Recordkeeper's heir. 

Your curiosity is piqued as displays of what you presume is affection come onto the screen. "Hey Mam, I thought they liked each other, so why are they wrestling like that right now?"  

It's a more violent display than you expect, but you're entranced as their jaws snap, teeth are bared, and claws dig into skin. The leads throw each other against any surface within the weapon storehouse, stopping the other before they can plan an escape.  You look down at Mammon to find him hiding his face into your shirt, the tips of his ears tinged red.

"It's a show of strength." He mumbles into your shirt.

"A show of strength...," you repeat thoughtfully, "is that common in courtship here?"

Mammon groans, hiding further into your shirt. "I don'wanna talk about this. Don't they teach ya shit like that in your Demon Studies course or somethin'?"

"Unfortunately, no. The topic has never come up." Demon Studies has solely focused on social, political, and institutional relationships within the Devildom. Nothing interpersonal as far as you can remember.

"What?! Well they should, some silly 'ol human isn't gonna just pick up on that." 

"Well," you drag your fingers through his hair, "think you could enlighten me?" 

He peeks up at you with a glare. "Whad'ya wanna know?" The topic seems sensitive, so you tread lightly.

"Could you tell me what a common courtship is like here? You don't have to be detailed or anything. Like, are there steps?" Most of the romance movies you've seen during your time here have been pirated by Leviathan from the human realm. 

Again, Mammon hides his face from you. You are about to suggest you two move past the topic when he finally speaks up.

"Yeah. Yeah there are steps." You stay silent, but keep running your hand through his hair.

"Y'noticed how the noble started sendin' letters? Or how once they got a response from the sword swinger they started includin' trinkets or whatever with 'em?" A moment of silence passes and he peeks up at you. It hits you that he's waiting on you to respond.

You smile bashfully. "Oh, yes! Yes, I noticed."

He huffs. "It started then. Goin' all out with gifts, tryin' to impress each other like lunatics."

"Are trinkets usually given?" You ask.

"Mm," he hums, "yeah, but gifts are as varied as demons. Some prefer other things: food, poems, flowers, the heart of your greatest enemy, buncha stuff."

"Huh-" Did you hear that correctly? 

"The heart of your greatest enemy?" You parrot.

"What, ya sayin' humans don't do that anymore?" You shake your head. 

"None that I've met at least." You don't doubt that humans have done it at some point in time, but it sounds more like some distant wartime practice from the Middle Ages or earlier. 

"Still happens here. It's a show of strength and dedication, proof ya can kick any ass that comes threatinin' your potential mate." He seems to be relaxing more and more as you delve deeper into the topic. 

"So, the wrestling...?" 

"Show of strength. They're pretty equally matched, even though the lovebirds run in different circles. Makes 'em decent partners at least." You feel your mind expanding with the revelation that this scene is way deeper than you've realized. Despite the commoner's standing, they've been in control for most of the wrestling match. 

"Ooooh!" You take a minute to ponder. 

"So, demons won't usually go for someone weaker than them?"

"Bingo."

You wonder what this means for you two. You certainly aren't as strong enough as a demon, and especially not as strong as the Avatar of Greed. 

You lose your train of thought as Mammon sits up more to face you, poking you in the forehead.

"Doesn't mean they never will." You relax your face at his touch, you hadn't realized it was scrunched up so much. 

"It's not all about how tough ya are. It's 'bout how they make ya feel too. A courtship is pretty serious stuff, you don't pursue somethin' that intense with just any old schmuck."

Mammon's eyes follow your hand as it reaches to fiddle with the golden pendant he gifted you. In the middle lies some gemstone you can't find in the human world. It's clear with specks of gold and blue. He blushes and coughs into his fist.

"If it continues after that, it gets pretty serious pretty fast. Ya start scentin' each others stuff, which is a pretty ballsy move."

Your eyebrows jump up at this unexpected development. "Scenting...?"

"Yeah, puttin' your scent out so they know who ya belong to. No human nose is gonna pick up on somethin' subtle like that, but it's there." Wait, so does that mean-

"Is the house scented? Can it just be anything?" Mammon looks at you as if you've just grown another head.

"Huh?! No!" Embarrassment warms your cheeks.

"Why would we go wastin' energy like that? That's crazy. If anything is scented, it's intentional and nothin' time consumin'." You shrug your shoulders.

"Ah, ok. I didn't know." You fiddle some more with the pendant, looking away from him.

"Ack, no don't feel bad!" His face is just as flushed as yours, but he continues. "You didn't ask anything stupid. There's no way ya could've known!" You can't stop the giddy grin that pulls at your lips as he attempts to comfort you. You face him again.

"So, what happens next? If you're already doing something like that, aren't you practically together?" 

"Practically, but not officially." He grumbles. "Buncha kids go around scentin' each other thinkin' they're in love. The scent fades as fast as the feelin's." He runs a hand through his hair with a sigh.

"It's official when ya make it official. A spoken agreement between partners. No bullshittin'."

"That's it?" You try to sidestep the microscopic lens of human tunnel vision, but a spoken agreement feels less official than marriage in the human world. Joint assets, joint families, and rings as proof of being claimed.

"Whad'ya mean "that's it?"?! All and everything you really feel. Ya gotta say it and ya gotta mean it. It's a bindin' contract that's a bitch to ever try and break." It clicks for you then. A demon's word is binding.

"Like a pact, but for romantic partners?"

Mammon ponders for a moment before he nods. "That's not too far off. Little more goes into it, but it's complicated." The lull that comes after feels like the end of the conversation, so you take your chance.

"Mammon, has anyone tried courting you before?"

"Hah, of course!" His grin is as smug as it always is. "Who wouldn't want to take a chance to be with The Great Mammon?" He laughs to himself, but you wonder-

"Have you ever accepted an attempt?" You're curious.

"Uh-" The question catches him off guard. "Y-yeah. A handful of times, but it never went anywhere." You're a little disappointed, but you swallow down your pride. It would be more concerning if he'd never tried to find love throughout the milleniums he's lived. 

You shift your line of questioning. You'd rather focus on the present and this momentous opportunity lined up before you.

"So, say I were to get you something. What would you like?" You've never seen his head whip around so fast, truly inhuman speed as he jumps back from you and slams into the headboard.

"The hell, MC?!" His face, ears, and what you can see of his neck, everywhere is flushed at your implication. This is just as embarrassing for you, but you feel emboldened by the security of your room, the sweet scent of honey in the air, and the declarations of love coming from the movie that still runs in the background.

"What about a pendant to match mine? Would you wear something like that if I got it for you?" You've come so close. You won't give up now. 

"W-why would I want somethin' like that?" You know it's a deflection. He wouldn't have stayed with you, here and now, if it wasn't. But, you're tired of it. You only want it if he wants it too. No bullshitting, right?

"Nevermind then, Mam. Don't worry, I won't get you anything. I don't want to make you uncomfortable." You reach for the remote that fell to the floor during all the commotion. "We don't have to finish the mo-"

You squeal in shock as Mammon throws himself into you. It's enough force to knock you back onto the pillows sprawled all over. You're speechless as he hides his face into your neck. He's never gotten this close to you. 

"S'fine." His grip on you tightens. "A matching necklace, s'good."

You can't contain yourself. "Mam, look at me."

He hums but doesn't move.

"Mammon, look at me." You're gentle with him as you cup his cheeks. 

"Seriously, you would accept it?" 

"Now you're just bein' cruel. I said it's good, didn't I?!" You can feel the sting of tears building. You don't think you've ever been this happy. 

You rub your thumbs over his cheeks. "Hey, Mam?"

"Whatd’ya want now?" 

"Can I kiss you?"  

In an instant, you're pressed back into the pillows, Mammon's lips on yours. It's not fireworks like humans talk about, nor the clashing of fangs as demons might do. It's tender and filled with a longing buried deep within the soul. It's messy. It's unexpected. It's perfect. 

You pull back to catch your breath and are touched by the unshed tears in Mammon's glassy eyes. It seems the sensation was mutual.

"I love you, Mam." 

You can figure out what this means for you two going forward tomorrow. You can ask about the callouses on his hands or for the stories of hardship behind the scars. You can discuss where courtships went wrong for you both, talk through your communication struggles, and love each other openly without fear. You're just so happy, really, that he'll let you love him. 

"I love ya too, MC."  He settles back into your arms, and you two lay there for some time, movie all but forgotten.

It's when the credits roll that Mammon shoots up, rushing to grab his jacket.

"Ah, shit!" He digs into his jacket pockets, pulling out a couple bags of hellfire twists. Your shared favorite movie treat.

"I meant to give this to ya earlier. So, ya know, we could have a snack during the movie." You chuckle at him as he rubs the back of his neck.

"We still can. Ever heard of ``To Capture a Beating Heart”?"