You let out a long sigh and plop down onto the couch. Aside from the usual ghoulish creaks and whispers, the whole House of Lamentation is quiet around you.
It’s Friday night and all seven brothers are inexplicably busy, leaving you here alone. Even Levi is out waiting in line for some exclusive merch release.
Your evening was supposed to be spent with Asmodeus at a hot new club’s opening night event.
You could practically hear his words replaying in your mind, begging you to go with him. “Please, please, please! Think of how spectacular we’ll look together on the dance floor! You-Know-Who will be there!~”
Of course at the last minute, Asmo met some beautiful stranger and simply had to spend the evening with them.
You told Asmo it was okay, and you meant it.
After everything you two had been through together, it would take WAY more than this to damage your friendship.
He apologized anyway with about two hundred kisses on your cheeks, and assured you lovingly that you could still come along even if you weren’t there as his “date”.
You declined, hid your disappointment, and claimed to want an evening alone anyway. The truth was you couldn’t stand the idea of showing up alone and watching Mammon there with his date.
You thought you had orchestrated the plan perfectly. You’d show up as Asmo’s arm candy, looking stunning, having a ball, ever-so-casually showing Mammon what he was missing.
The outfit you curated is perfectly provocative- sheer black fabric hugging your curves with cutouts strategically placed. You splurged on a pair of fresh new shoes - shiny and black with the sharpest, deadliest looking heel you could find. Asmo helped you pick everything out, so you know it’s up to the Devildom’s highest fashion standards. Even your hair and makeup came out flawless.
Now here you are - gorgeous, alone, and bored out of your mind. Your master plan fell flat.
You stare at the fireplace for a moment before going to the kitchen and pouring yourself a glass of wine. The first sip is just bitter enough to make your lips pucker.
You meander back into the living room, your heels clacking softly against the marble floor as you connect your phone to the speaker to play some music.
It’s rare to get the whole house to yourself, so you decide to make the most of it. You turn up the volume and play your favorite (slightly embarrassing) playlist on repeat. You sing along absentmindedly as you walk around the living room, admiring all of the treasures and trinkets the brothers have accumulated over the millennia. Before you know it, your glass is empty. You head to the kitchen and refill it.
On the way back, you decide to do a little digging through the closets in the grand entrance hall. The first one you open is filled with stacks of old paintings, each wrapped in dusty velvet. Your gut says they seem distinctly cursed, so you close it and quickly move on to the next closet.
The heavy door creaks open to reveal a collection of old formalwear, each piece more ancient than the last. You peruse, your nosiness getting the better of you.
You’ve never seen the boys wear any of this.
Your hand freezes on one of the hangers. In the midst of all the decrepit menswear is a gorgeous blood-red evening gown.
It looks like it’s been hidden away for a few lifetimes, so there’s no way it was intended to be yours. You wonder with a nostalgic sadness if it had belonged to Lilith.
For a moment of hesitation, you’re almost afraid to touch it. The weightless fabric is paved with what seem to be real ruby buttons running from the middle of the bodice and curving down until they meet a deep slit up the side.
It looks like it’s made for Devildom royalty. You can’t help but imagine how it’d feel to walk the halls of Diavolo’s castle in something like this.
It looks like it would fit you…
You bite your lip and run the fabric through your fingers. It’s so soft and light, it feels almost like nothing at all. You glance around the empty entrance hall and decide you’ve got to try it on.
You take a quick breath then slide your little black dress down over your heels, kicking it a few feet away onto the floor. You duck slightly into the closet and hold your arm over your bare chest as you slip the gown from its hanger. Even with no one home, being in the middle of the house in underwear and heels makes you feel insanely exposed.
You rush to undo the buttons and carefully step in to the dress, lifting it up to cover your chest. You relax a bit and realize you’d been holding your breath.
You let out a sigh and slip the delicate straps over your shoulders. Reaching down to start fastening the buttons at your thigh, you freeze.
You watch in horror as the ruby buttons fasten themselves one by one. In seconds, the dress is cinched tight and hugging you perfectly. It’s like it was made for you, just waiting in that closet for an opportunity to hold you.
You try to undo the top button, but it won’t budge. Your shaking fingers pry at few more, but fail each time. You’re halfway to hyperventilating when you hear the front door click unlocked and start to open.
You scramble back into the living room, out of sight for now.
Panic and confusion crash through you.
You hadn’t expected anyone to be home for hours at least. Lucifer must have finished his work at Diavolo’s early.
You think of the closet door you left open and your dress lying on the floor. There’s no way he won’t notice the mess you made.
Your face gets hot and your mind runs wild as you desperately try to think of a way out of this situation.
You lie down on the couch and pull a blanket over yourself, making sure the dress is hidden, then close your eyes and try to slow your breathing down. If you look like you’re asleep, maybe he’ll just leave you undisturbed to rest…
Your heart pounds in your chest as you try to maintain a convincingly serene appearance.
His footsteps enter the living room.
You hear him turn the volume down on the speaker, and take a few steps closer to you.
Forcing your breath to stay slow and deep, you repeat over and over again in your mind ‘I’m asleep, I’m asleep…’.
You hear a rough whisper.
You know that voice. Your eyes snap open to see him crouched down looking at you.
In one swift motion you sit up and throw the blanket off. He jumps back startled and knocks into the coffee table, catching himself before he completely loses his balance.
“Shit!” He clearly thought you were passed out.
“What the hell, Mammon! I thought you were Lucifer!”
“Sorry to disappoint you.” He straightens up, regaining his composure. You see his eyebrows raise as he takes in the sight of you in the dress.
Your heart skips a beat as you watch his eyes linger just a moment too long on your hips before he catches himself and quickly looks away.
“Nice pajamas.” He scoffs. “I found this. It’s yours, right?” He throws your discarded black dress at you.
“Yeah… thanks.” You fold the dress then hold it in your lap, wishing you had never taken it off.
“So…” He slides his hands into his pockets. “Find what ya were snoopin’ for in the closet?” He looks down his nose at you with a satisfied smirk.
You furrow your brows in embarrassment and wonder why you even like him. He knows how to annoy you better than anyone.
“I was just looking around.” You reply sternly, glaring up at him. “What are you doing here? Your date stand you up?”
“Yeah, actually.” He admits flatly.
You immediately feel like an asshole.
“Oh…I’m sorry, I didn’t…” You pause. Taking one look at him, you realize you’re probably more upset about your comment than he is. Your mind returns to the problem of the dress.
“Um, would you… happen to know anything about this dress? Was it Lilith’s?” Your voice is low and quiet. It feels wrong to say her name in anything other than a whisper.
Mammon glances sideways at you, his eyes quickly moving up and down your glittering form.
“Lilith’s? No, she…wouldn’t have worn somethin’ like that. It’s probably Asmo’s.”
He looks away from you toward the fire place.
You groan. Who knows what sort of spell could be woven into this thing if it belongs to Asmodeus.
“I’m just going to go talk to him quick, hang on…” You walk into the hall and try calling Asmo.
No answer. You try again.
You see your forgotten wine glass and take a big swig while you wait for him to pick up. Still no answer. You sigh.
You go into the kitchen and set your glass down by the sink, telling yourself not to panic.
You notice Mammon leaning in the doorway. “Hey, let’s go somewhere. Get your clothes back on and we’ll go out.”
You stare at him for a moment, calculating.
“Oh… I don’t think so, Mams.” You look down at your feet.
“What, ya’d rather stay home and drink alone than go out with The Great Mammon? I don’t believe ya. Come on, hurry up. I know just where we should go.”
Your heart aches. All this time he’s never made a pass at you, and now is when he’s finally talking like he wants to take you on a date?
“No, it’s not that. I WANT to go with you, I just-“
“I knew it. Let’s go. Where’s that other dress ya had on…”
“Mammon, I can’t get this dress off.”
He turns around to look at you, his eyes dropping down to the dress, then back up to your face. “Is the zipper stuck or somethin’?”
“There’s no zipper, just these buttons… they like, snapped shut on their own when I put it on. I think it’s cursed. It won’t let me take it off…”
You look up at him with sad eyes as you explain, ashamed of the situation you’ve gotten yourself into.
“I tried calling Asmo but he must be busy with his date because he’s not answering me.”
He looks at you for a moment with wide eyes, then pulls his phone out of his pocket. He types something and puts it up to his ear.
“I’ll call Thirteen. She’s at the club too.”
You start to ask why he didn’t just stay at the club with them, but before you can finish your question, Thirteen answers. You hear Mammon’s side of the conversation.
“Hey, is Asmo still there? Yeah, could you put him on?”
“Asmo. Do ya… What…? No I don’t miss ya that much, shut the fuck up for a second. Do ya know anythin’ about a cursed dress being in one of the old closets at the house?”
A pause. You can hear Asmo excitedly saying something.
“Y-yeah, it’s red… yeah.” Mammon sounds scared. Your heart sinks.
“No! Stay there…Dammit, no.”
Your heart clenches. If Asmo wants to come home, something is definitely up. Mammon looks at you and his cheeks go pink. He turns away visibly flustered.
“No, she didn’t try to put it on yet. We were just wonderin’. Yeah. Later.”
He hangs up and slides the phone into his back pocket.
“What did he say? Why did you lie to him?”
Your voice comes out more frantic than you expect, surprising you. You take a breath. Mammon just stands facing away, his palms flat on the kitchen counter.
He runs a hand through his hair and sighs, then slowly turns to face you. You can’t read his expression.
“He said it’s gonna be fine.” His voice is calm. He doesn’t seem scared, just stiff.
You look into his eyes. “Did he know how to get it off?”
He drags his hands down his face in frustration, letting them rest at his chin. He looks wide-eyed at the floor for a moment.
Finally he speaks. “Yes.”
“Okay, well are you gonna tell me how?” You’re getting impatient and not bothering to hide it.
He puts his hands out in front of him as if he’s trying to physically hold your curiosity back. He speaks carefully and slowly.
“I said it’s gonna be fine.” He pauses and looks into your eyes with a serious expression on his face. “Will ya just trust me?”
You scrunch your face in disbelief.
You open your mouth to argue but his pleading expression stops you. You sigh and take a moment to actually consider his question.
You think back over your time in the Devildom, remembering the day he was tasked with looking after you.
He complained about it and even threatened to eat you, but it was obvious he took the responsibility seriously. He wouldn’t shut up about being ‘in charge’ of you.
You glance at his hands and remember the night a lower demon attacked you while you were all at the carnival. Mammon was the one you ran to for help when you broke free. He had nearly beaten the guy to death by the time Lucifer pulled him away.
He stayed at your side the rest of the night, even sleeping on the floor next to your bed. He reached up and held your hand while you fell asleep. You’ve been regretting not pulling him up into bed with you ever since.
You look down into your glass, thinking of the time you spilled your coffee all over the passenger seat of his Demonio.
You’d expected him to pull over and throw you out onto the street or worse, but he didn’t. All he did was give you his hoodie to tie around your hips and cover the stain on your pants.
You look into his eyes and a chill breaks down your spine. You wish you could forget the sight of Mammon crying, holding what was left of you on that night when Belphie-
You give a small nod. “I’ll trust you.”
“Good. Wait here.” He abruptly leaves the kitchen and heads upstairs.
“Huh…?” You watch him go, fighting the urge to chase after him and demand answers.
You sigh impatiently and stay put. You told him you’d trust him, and though you’re already regretting it, you’re no liar.
While you stand there, you try again to undo the buttons, but they don’t even come close to cooperating. You scoff at them and finish your wine.
A few minutes later you hear Mammon’s quick footsteps come down the stairs, and when he prowls around the corner into the kitchen he’s wearing a sleek black button up and steel grey pants. He’s got a matching suit jacket thrown over one shoulder.
You watch him fasten his cuffs but leave the top three buttons of the shirt open, letting the dark skin of his neck and collarbones peek out.
He catches you looking and gives you a wolfish smirk. He slips on the jacket and holds his hand out to you.
“If we can’t get ya out of that dress yet, I’ll just have to take ya somewhere extra special tonight. C’mon.”
The second you take his hand, he whisks you away. Escaping out onto the street, he releases you from his grip and walks quietly beside you.
He rests his hands in his pants pockets and sighs. It’s a clear night, and the streets are alive with groups of demons enjoying themselves.
You see your reflection in the shop windows. You’re surprised. The dress actually doesn’t look out of place with Mammon by your side in that suit. You look like you stepped out of a magazine together.
He stays quiet, keeping close but not looking your way. You hook your arm through his and softly ask “Where are we going?”You feel him tense up for a moment at your touch.
Your mouth drops open. “But that place is so expen-“
“Nah.” He cuts you off before you can finish. “Don’t worry about any of that shit tonight.”
You look over at him, torn between feeling special and feeling alarmed. What did Asmo say that made him suddenly want to spoil you?
You walk arm in arm without talking all the way to the restaurant. You thank him as he opens the door for you. He’d be the perfect gentleman if he could just look you in the eyes.
As you walk up to the table, Mammon pulls your chair out for you. “Order anything ya like, human. Tonight’s on me.”
You pick up your menu, reminding yourself that you agreed to trust him.
After about five attempts to read and retain any of the specials, you slam your menu down. You NEED answers.
“Mammon, am I gonna die?”
He coughs on his water, then looks up at you with his eyebrows raised. “Wh-what?”
“Is this dress going to kill me?” You repeat. It sounds less like a question and more like a statement. He still looks bewildered, so you continue. “You’re taking me to this fancy place, you won’t tell me what Asmo said, and…you won’t even look at me.”
At the last part, his eyes meet yours with a sad and guilty expression. He holds his face in his hands for a moment and sighs. The candlelight flickers on his gold rings.
“I’m screwin’ this all up, aren’t I? You’re not dyin’. Okay? So quit worryin’ about that.”
He looks at you as he speaks. It’s what you wanted, but now that you’ve got it you feel like you’re in a spotlight.
You push for more answers.
“Okay. I’m choosing to believe you. Will you tell me what Asmo said?” You ask carefully and delicately. He gives you a sympathetic look.
“The dress is cursed. You were right. It’s not gonna hurt ya, I swear. It might just… take a while before we can get it off.” He slides your menu back toward you. “I wanted to take ya out tonight anyway, and I knew this would be the only place you’d feel comfortable in that thing. So figure out what ya wanna eat.” He leans back and turns his attention to the cocktail menu.
You relent and start thinking of what you want.
The waiter arrives and breaks the tension. You both order your food and drinks. After you hand him the menus, he walks away leaving you in an awkward silence.
You blurt out “You got a date after all.”
You shrug your bare shoulders at him. “Your date bailed on you earlier, but look around. This seems like a date to me. You got a date after all.” Your stomach does a backflip as realize you may not be on the same page about this. You immediately miss the awkward silence.
“Oh, yeah… guess I did.” He looks at you as if he just lost a really intense train of thought. He rests his cheek on his fist. “It’s a good thing, too. What kinda loser sits home alone on a Friday night, am I right?” He smiles at you, clearly teasing you for your previous evening plans.
“Hey, I was supposed to be out! Blame Asmo.” You giggle and take a sip of your wine. It’s better than the stuff back at the House of Lamentation, but you’ll never tell Lucifer.
He leans back in his chair. “I guess both our dates bailed on us tonight, huh?”
You realize there was a misunderstanding.
“N-no, Asmo and I weren’t… we’re just friends. It wasn’t like that.” You shake your head and smile at him. “I’m not with anyone right now, actually.”
“Oh, gotcha…” His voice is low. He goes back to looking at everything in the room except for you.
Your food arrives looking absolutely amazing. You take a big bite, eager for something to do to relieve some of the pressure of the conversation. Instantly, your mouth feels like it’s full of battery acid.
“Mmm?!” You yelp and quickly spit it out into a cloth napkin. Mammon watches you with an amused look on his face as you down your water.
You feel tears welling up in your eyes as you try not to cough and make a scene. You let out a distressed laugh and quietly choke out “What…the fuck is this?”
“It said it was spicy on the menu, genius. It had ‘Inferno’ in the name.”
“I didn’t think it meant it literally! Everything down here has names like that!”
He laughs at you shamelessly but slides his water toward you without you having to ask for it. Your lips are bright red and you’ve started trying to fan your eyes with your hands so your makeup doesn’t run. You check to see if anyone around has noticed. Thankfully it seems they haven’t.
You look to Mammon and flash a painful grin. “It’s really good. Wanna try?”
He laughs at you again. “I’ve had that before, thanks. There’s no way you’re gonna be able to eat that. You’ll die.” He looks around for the waiter for a moment, then back at your plates. “Here.” He switches them, giving you his food instead. “Ya should be able to survive this one.”
You bow your head in playful gratitude. “My hero.”
“Yeah yeah, I’m great. Ya owe me one.” He waves his hand as if he’s brushing it off.
“I think I owe you more than one. I didn’t mean to be such an expensive date.” You look up at him through your lashes. You feel a little guilty even if you ARE loving the special treatment.
“Pff, this is nothing for The Great Mammon. Besides…” He hesitates, running his thumb along the rim of his glass. “Some cursed rag isn’t gonna stop me from spoilin’ my favorite human.” His eyes trace your curves under the thin red fabric. “…Even if she does look ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous?! Nice try, Mams.” You don’t believe he actually thinks that for one second. Silently provoking him, you take a deep breath and lean forward to give him an even better look at you.
He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “Fine, even if she looks…ridiculously hot. That better? Ya happy now, ya brat?”
You pull it together and make a show of pursing your lips thoughtfully before granting your approval.
“Yes, I think I am happy now.” You lean back in your chair and raise your chin pridefully.
He groans. “You’re the worst y’know that? I’m over here tryin’ to be a gentleman.”
You hesitate a moment, biting your lip. “Maybe I don’t want you to be a gentleman.”
He goes still, only his eyes moving up to meet yours. He’s sizing you up. A wave of electricity rolls through you and you feel something start to beg deep in your core. Someone drops a tray of drinks behind the bar. Neither of you flinch.
You slide your hand an inch closer to him on the table, daring him to touch you. He takes the bait without hesitation, reaching over and holding it. You watch him gently trace up and down the slopes of your knuckles. He slides his hand over your wrist and grips your skin with his fingertips.
“You sure about that?” He whispers.
You take a deep breath. “Yes.”
Your eyes meet and something unspoken is clearly understood.
“C’mon then, we’re leavin’.” He takes his wallet out to pay your bill.
It’s Asmo responding to you. You read his text, ignoring the dozen heart emojis.
“Heyyyyy doll! PROMISE you won’t put that dress on until I’m back home, kay? I want to be the first to play!”
Mammon stiffly sits up. “Who’s that?”
You glance up at Mammon but don’t answer his question. You type reply to Asmo.
“Play..? What do you mean?”
Mammon leans forward nervously trying to get a look at your screen. “Is that Asmo?”
Your phone buzzes again. Asmo replied.
“Didn’t Mammon explain it? That dress has a special little charm on it! The buttons can only be undone by the person you desire most~!”
You read the message twice. Slowly you look up at Mammon.
Blinking a few times, you finally see what he’s doing with you here. You turn the phone and show him the text.
His face falls. “Okay, it’s not…”
You get up from your chair and walk out of the restaurant.
“Shit…”He leaves money on the table and follows.
You’re out in the dark half a block down the sidewalk when he catches up to you. You don’t stop walking.
“Will ya wait just a second?”
He grabs your wrist, pulling you to face him. “Hey, please.” He looks genuinely desperate to explain.
You stare into his eyes and try to find the words. “This whole fucking thing was just…what, your date rejects you so you try to win this little game for an ego boost or something?” The buttons on the dress shine blood red under the streetlights, glaring up at you.
“No! No it was not. I wasn’t-“
“I knew you were being too generous. I’m not your plan B fuck, Mammon.”
He’s stunned. You use the opportunity to pull free from his grip and walk as quickly as you can to the House of Lamentation. You almost trip when one of your shoes gets caught between two cobblestones.
“Ugh!” You kick them off and leave them behind, starting to run. The sidewalk hurts your feet but you don’t slow down or look back. Soon you’re back home and heading straight up the stairs. Mammon isn’t far behind you. You slip into your room and slam the door. A moment later you hear him knock softly.
“Will ya please open up? It’s not like that.”
You hear him curse under his breath, then silence. You stand in the middle of the room wanting to scream. You rip at the front of the dress as hard as you can until your muscles and fingertips burn. Nothing happens. You’re stuck.
Giving up, you crawl into bed. You force your eyes closed but your mind doesn’t stop racing.
Your phone buzzes. It’s a text from Thirteen.
You reply “I guess, why?”
A minute or two later she replies.
“Tell him to ANSWER HIS FUCKING PHONE. He asked where you were, called Asmo a dumbass, then got up and walked out. I had to PAY HIS TAB! He didn’t even apologize or say a word to the girl he was with when he left! It was so fucked up. Tell him I stole her. Taking her home rn. He snoozes he loses. ;)”
You sit up in your bed for a moment trying to wrap your head around Thirteen’s text. You creep to your door and slowly open it a crack. The hallway is too dark to see anything. You open it wider to find Mammon sitting on the floor looking defeated. He’s got your shoes and his jacket in a pile next to him.
“I came here to see if ya were okay, that’s all. I thought Asmo dumped ya and I figured you’d be here alone and heartbroken. I wasn’t gonna try anything, I swear. But then you’d gotten yourself stuck in that fuckin’ dress…”
He buries his face in his hands and shakes his head. “If Asmo knew you’d already put it on, he would’ve made a big fuckin’ thing of it and brought everyone to try takin’ it off of ya.”
He gets up and takes a step toward you, absolutely desperate. “I would’ve never tried to push it, but then it seemed like we both wanted to, and…” He trails off.
“And?” You stare at him, holding your breath.
“And… if anyone’s gonna get you outta that thing it’s gonna be me. Please, just let me try before you go askin’ anyone else. Please.”
His palms hover over your hips, waiting for permission. You grab his wrist and bring his hand up your chest to the top of the dress.
His fingertip barely brushes against the first button and it comes undone.
He stares down at the little ruby like it’s telling him everything he wants to hear.
You don’t wait. You press your lips to his, and a rumbling growl vibrates from his throat. Without warning, he grabs the top of the dress with both hands. His fingertips curl against your chest beneath the fabric and with one jolting motion, he rips the entire line of buttons open, sending them flying. You gasp, hearing them clatter to the floor. The dress slides down your thighs to rest at your ankles, the charm defeated.
His hands are all over your bare skin, finally free to explore the plush curves of your chest and torso. He kisses you like his life depends on it and slowly leads you both into your bedroom, slamming the door behind him.
