She/her, 24. Sometimes I reblog NSFW writings, and use strong language. I also swear a lot. If you're a minor and/or uncomfortable with these things, feel free to block me, I don't mind! As long as everyone can enjoy this app and at the same time be comfortable I'm happy! Have a great day! (≧▽≦)
Could u pls write abt pervy things the brothers do… like before being in a relationship w them n stuff. Gulp
⛓️Pervy Things the Brothers did Before Getting with MC⛓️
──────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────────────
Featuring: The Demon Bros x MC (separately)
CW: Perverted demons, exhibition, m!masturbation, stealing clothes, dream manipulation in Belphie's part, jealousy, weird behaviour in general | MDNI!
──────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────────────
Lucifer:
⟶ He likes to act like he's above any perverted act before dating you, often drowning himself in more work to distract himself about any wandering thoughts. But to no avail most of the time.
⟶ Something Lucifer does is straight up kick the others out of the house but in the form of a distraction that appeals to all of them. That way, his brothers aren't a problem for him for a while and he gets a higher chance of encountering you wandering around the halls. It may seem silly and maybe even romantic, but he just likes to know that he's the only one you can talk to or look at until they come back.
⟶ Often takes the time to whisper even the shortest of words in your ear in a low tone that sounds slightly gravelly. He knows it makes you jump or even shiver, which only elicits a cruel chuckle from him. See, Lucifer's attempts are focused on trying to get you to be the one who's obsessed, but it's much clearer who's wrapped around whose finger.
⟶ Locks himself in his study while presumably filling out documents that cannot be rewritten, but you fill his senses strong enough for him to immediately get distracted. Lucifer often pleasures himself to imagining your voice calling his name or the way your face looks when you're blushing.
Mammon:
⟶ Mammon is stealing your clothes and acting all innocent, even playing the "hero" and offering his own to you. It may seem like he's worried about your clothes going missing and he assures you that it could've gotten mixed up with someone else's and it would take forever to find. So why not use his as a substitute?
⟶ He acts like the best caretaker in the world whenever he spends the night in your room to make sure you're safe. In reality, Mammon's really getting off to your scent in the entire room and contemplating laying down beside you until you wake up. Of course, he prefers not to risk your wrath if you do end up getting mad at him.
⟶ Mammon gets a bit more possessive which can be seen in the way he touches you. He holds your waist securely to guide you through hallways or crowds, glaring or growling at any demon that glances in your direction, especially his brothers. He even gives your waist or arm a good squeeze whenever he wants to feel you subtly.
Leviathan:
⟶ He's scrolling through Devilgram and even your messages with him, finding photos to save. Levi can recall your appearance perfectly, but he can get incredibly desperate when you haven't been to his room in a while or if you brushed up against him even slightly.
⟶ Leviathan's drawing and writing fanfiction about you two, which is something that he'd absolutely NEVER share to you. At least not technically. He'd give the characters different names with slightly altered personalities or speech but still mimic the two of you pretty damn well.
⟶ He's definitely THE thief for underwear. Stealing your clothes makes him feel extremely ashamed, but there's just something about the way you smell that drives him crazier than what the others would feel about your scent.
⟶ Definitely plays those eroge games or watches those anime with characters that specifically look like you. Every time he does, Levi has to put extreme care into monitoring his browser history and his volume is either muted or his headphones are plugged in. It'd be such a shame if you walked in on him during a moment like that...
Satan:
⟶ Satan would still be particularly new to the idea of relationships and desires before you and that all he knew is that he wanted you, really bad. He becomes more possessive but tries to act like he's above his clear desire to be near you or feel your warmth against him.
⟶ Goes from offering to help you with homework to folding your clothes or doing your laundry. At least he tries to make himself helpful in attempts to get closer to you. It's more on the cuter side than perverted, at least. Until you realize some of your favourite articles of clothing go missing.
⟶ Sometimes, he might recommend romance books with smut, alluding to its mature content slightly. Does it with a straight face as well, but smirks to himself when you tell him there's graphic content after reading it. This can go two ways depending on how he's feeling. Satan could play it off as cool as he can, teasing you by asking you if you get flustered that easily by a simple paragraph. Or he gets embarrassed, acting like he didn't know that was in the book, or that he simply forgot. He is NOT slick.
Asmodeus:
⟶ It shouldn't be any surprise that Asmo is SHAMELESS when it comes to expressing his desire for you. He's just much more experienced in managing the emotions and suppressing them. He's often asking highly detailed, personal questions and offering to shower or sleep together. Not even making any excuses, straight up telling you it's so he can admire you in different angles.
⟶ He's a bit of an exhibitionist. Usually he's wearing quite revealing outfits and asking to match, or he might even touch himself in his room, moaning loud enough for you to hear every time you pass by his door. Which is also slightly ajar.
⟶ Openly flirting with you no matter the circumstances. You guys could be in the middle of a RAD student council meeting and he's nudging you with his elbow or foot while smiling devilishly whenever you glare at him.
⟶ Asmo would give you a bottle of his favourite perfume or cologne that he's wearing at the moment. It's easy to interpret it as him being nice and wanting to share something that's important to him, or he just gets easily jealous and wants his scent on you at all times.
Beelzebub:
⟶ Beel doesn't really do much perverted stuff before dating you, not because he thinks he's above it, but he just doesn't get that desire as strongly and is more afraid about making you mad or hurting you. But there are still some times he finds hard to hold back.
⟶ Invites you to join him whenever he works out. It can be mainly seen as wanting you around doing an activity he likes and wanting you to be active as well, but there's more to it. You both have to wear clothes that aren't restricting and show more skin in order to avoid overheating and you two will be sweating, a lot. Being surrounded by all... that tension, it gets him aroused too fast.
⟶ Gets entranced watching you eat a food that can be easily be fantasized about. Like popsicles, bananas, or anything similar. He gets hungry, unsure of who he wants to be more. You, or the food...
Belphegor:
⟶ Much like Asmodeus, Belphie's kind of an exhibitionist. But he's not as elaborate as him. He leaves the door open when touching himself or "forgets" to put a shirt on properly, under the guise that he's just too lazy. But you'd know at this point that he's totally trying to distract and fluster you.
⟶ Hides any warm clothes, blankets, or pillows of yours so you have no choice but to confront him about it and ask if he knows where they are. He always has a smug answer like "No. But now that you're here and there's blankets too..."
⟶ Gives you wet dreams, definitely. He wants you craving him deeply, even if it's early in the morning and RAD is in two hours. Belphie does this when he can't sleep too and instead of going up to ask you to cuddle him to sleep, he practically enters your dream and cling onto you there.
⟶ Also does the dream manipulation when you've gotten too close to one of his brothers, making sure you only remember when you talked and laughed with him and nobody else when you wake up. If you asked him about it, he'd only respond by asking if you're missing him too much. He's such a brat, loving to elicit reactions from you.
Could u pls write abt pervy things the brothers do… like before being in a relationship w them n stuff. Gulp
⛓️Pervy Things the Brothers did Before Getting with MC⛓️
──────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────────────
Featuring: The Demon Bros x MC (separately)
CW: Perverted demons, exhibition, m!masturbation, stealing clothes, dream manipulation in Belphie's part, jealousy, weird behaviour in general | MDNI!
──────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────────────
Lucifer:
⟶ He likes to act like he's above any perverted act before dating you, often drowning himself in more work to distract himself about any wandering thoughts. But to no avail most of the time.
⟶ Something Lucifer does is straight up kick the others out of the house but in the form of a distraction that appeals to all of them. That way, his brothers aren't a problem for him for a while and he gets a higher chance of encountering you wandering around the halls. It may seem silly and maybe even romantic, but he just likes to know that he's the only one you can talk to or look at until they come back.
⟶ Often takes the time to whisper even the shortest of words in your ear in a low tone that sounds slightly gravelly. He knows it makes you jump or even shiver, which only elicits a cruel chuckle from him. See, Lucifer's attempts are focused on trying to get you to be the one who's obsessed, but it's much clearer who's wrapped around whose finger.
⟶ Locks himself in his study while presumably filling out documents that cannot be rewritten, but you fill his senses strong enough for him to immediately get distracted. Lucifer often pleasures himself to imagining your voice calling his name or the way your face looks when you're blushing.
Mammon:
⟶ Mammon is stealing your clothes and acting all innocent, even playing the "hero" and offering his own to you. It may seem like he's worried about your clothes going missing and he assures you that it could've gotten mixed up with someone else's and it would take forever to find. So why not use his as a substitute?
⟶ He acts like the best caretaker in the world whenever he spends the night in your room to make sure you're safe. In reality, Mammon's really getting off to your scent in the entire room and contemplating laying down beside you until you wake up. Of course, he prefers not to risk your wrath if you do end up getting mad at him.
⟶ Mammon gets a bit more possessive which can be seen in the way he touches you. He holds your waist securely to guide you through hallways or crowds, glaring or growling at any demon that glances in your direction, especially his brothers. He even gives your waist or arm a good squeeze whenever he wants to feel you subtly.
Leviathan:
⟶ He's scrolling through Devilgram and even your messages with him, finding photos to save. Levi can recall your appearance perfectly, but he can get incredibly desperate when you haven't been to his room in a while or if you brushed up against him even slightly.
⟶ Leviathan's drawing and writing fanfiction about you two, which is something that he'd absolutely NEVER share to you. At least not technically. He'd give the characters different names with slightly altered personalities or speech but still mimic the two of you pretty damn well.
⟶ He's definitely THE thief for underwear. Stealing your clothes makes him feel extremely ashamed, but there's just something about the way you smell that drives him crazier than what the others would feel about your scent.
⟶ Definitely plays those eroge games or watches those anime with characters that specifically look like you. Every time he does, Levi has to put extreme care into monitoring his browser history and his volume is either muted or his headphones are plugged in. It'd be such a shame if you walked in on him during a moment like that...
Satan:
⟶ Satan would still be particularly new to the idea of relationships and desires before you and that all he knew is that he wanted you, really bad. He becomes more possessive but tries to act like he's above his clear desire to be near you or feel your warmth against him.
⟶ Goes from offering to help you with homework to folding your clothes or doing your laundry. At least he tries to make himself helpful in attempts to get closer to you. It's more on the cuter side than perverted, at least. Until you realize some of your favourite articles of clothing go missing.
⟶ Sometimes, he might recommend romance books with smut, alluding to its mature content slightly. Does it with a straight face as well, but smirks to himself when you tell him there's graphic content after reading it. This can go two ways depending on how he's feeling. Satan could play it off as cool as he can, teasing you by asking you if you get flustered that easily by a simple paragraph. Or he gets embarrassed, acting like he didn't know that was in the book, or that he simply forgot. He is NOT slick.
Asmodeus:
⟶ It shouldn't be any surprise that Asmo is SHAMELESS when it comes to expressing his desire for you. He's just much more experienced in managing the emotions and suppressing them. He's often asking highly detailed, personal questions and offering to shower or sleep together. Not even making any excuses, straight up telling you it's so he can admire you in different angles.
⟶ He's a bit of an exhibitionist. Usually he's wearing quite revealing outfits and asking to match, or he might even touch himself in his room, moaning loud enough for you to hear every time you pass by his door. Which is also slightly ajar.
⟶ Openly flirting with you no matter the circumstances. You guys could be in the middle of a RAD student council meeting and he's nudging you with his elbow or foot while smiling devilishly whenever you glare at him.
⟶ Asmo would give you a bottle of his favourite perfume or cologne that he's wearing at the moment. It's easy to interpret it as him being nice and wanting to share something that's important to him, or he just gets easily jealous and wants his scent on you at all times.
Beelzebub:
⟶ Beel doesn't really do much perverted stuff before dating you, not because he thinks he's above it, but he just doesn't get that desire as strongly and is more afraid about making you mad or hurting you. But there are still some times he finds hard to hold back.
⟶ Invites you to join him whenever he works out. It can be mainly seen as wanting you around doing an activity he likes and wanting you to be active as well, but there's more to it. You both have to wear clothes that aren't restricting and show more skin in order to avoid overheating and you two will be sweating, a lot. Being surrounded by all... that tension, it gets him aroused too fast.
⟶ Gets entranced watching you eat a food that can be easily be fantasized about. Like popsicles, bananas, or anything similar. He gets hungry, unsure of who he wants to be more. You, or the food...
Belphegor:
⟶ Much like Asmodeus, Belphie's kind of an exhibitionist. But he's not as elaborate as him. He leaves the door open when touching himself or "forgets" to put a shirt on properly, under the guise that he's just too lazy. But you'd know at this point that he's totally trying to distract and fluster you.
⟶ Hides any warm clothes, blankets, or pillows of yours so you have no choice but to confront him about it and ask if he knows where they are. He always has a smug answer like "No. But now that you're here and there's blankets too..."
⟶ Gives you wet dreams, definitely. He wants you craving him deeply, even if it's early in the morning and RAD is in two hours. Belphie does this when he can't sleep too and instead of going up to ask you to cuddle him to sleep, he practically enters your dream and cling onto you there.
⟶ Also does the dream manipulation when you've gotten too close to one of his brothers, making sure you only remember when you talked and laughed with him and nobody else when you wake up. If you asked him about it, he'd only respond by asking if you're missing him too much. He's such a brat, loving to elicit reactions from you.
the new ballet season is upcoming and you've been selected to play both the pure white swan and the lustful black swan. you were the perfect white swan. pristine, pure, perfect. but when your strict ballet instructor guides you down a tainted path to fulfill your dual role as the black swan— just how far are you willing to go to gain his approval? how deep are you willing to let him drag you into hell for the sake of perfection? and most of all: how desperate are you to keep his attention on only you?
⌗ wc :: 1.8k
♡ ₊˚‧ cw. ballet au :: angst :: smut :: toxic dynamics :: age gap ( 40s / 20s ) :: violence :: blood :: murder :: corruption :: purity fixation :: unhealthy beauty standards :: obsession :: manipulation :: jealousy :: f.masturbation :: semi-public sex :: fingering :: rough sex :: degradation :: choking :: sukuna is very touchy & creepy :: rival!yorozu :: inspired by 2010's black swan
♡ ₊˚‧ sweetheart. this series was commissioned by @delicatedahlias <3 thank you cutie!
What were you, if not perfect?
It's the thought you went to bed with. The thought you woke up with. The word that haunted you as you sat at your table and picked at the slices of fruit you called a meal.
Perfection was discipline. Dedication. And by god, were you both.
Not a hair out of place. Not a crease in your clothes. You even walked between the cracks of tiles in the dim ballet studio.
Many said this was the place where dreams died.
But this, oh, this was where you soared.
Your feathers pristine. Your wings wide. You glided through the air and swayed to the music with an elegance most likened to an angel.
Pure, pristine, and above all:
Perfect.
Well, until he came along.
"You call that an Arabesque?"
A gruff voice maced through the cold studio air. Your feet fell flat on the floors. Dejected.
Your newest ballet instructor didn't think of you as an angel at all.
Hulking arms crossed over a broad chest. The black material of his shirt strained around his biceps. Chin raised high like his standards. Pink hair chaotic, yet controlled. Maroon eyes a burning fire of cold coals.
Ryomen Sukuna was notorious for his methods. As strict as he was severe. Said to weed out perfection from the pores of poor ballerinas with bloodied tweezers if he had to.
That's why the studio hired him. Bankruptcy threatened, and they were desperate. If anyone could fix this place, Sukuna could.
The first day he walked in, he pointed out everyone's flaws. Extended practice hours. Chastised even the smallest mistakes.
Especially yours.
His problem with you?
"You're too perfect," he barked. The ground and knees of other ballerinas trembled as he approached.
You stood stiff. Straight. But not tall, never tall. You were such a timid thing. A sweet little girl, just as your mother always wanted.
"Excuse me?" You meeked, daring to look up. The white spandex bit into your skin. Taunting you with tight failure.
"Your performance as Odette," he stopped before you. Stared into your soul until it wished to shrivel up.
"It's perfect. Not a flaw."
You blinked. Breath hitching as he circled you. A predator sizing up whether or not you were worthy prey.
You didn't voice your confusion.
As far as you were concerned, you didn't have a voice. Not in his presence. Not when searching for his approval.
His height cast a shadow over you. Swallowing you in his criticism. The studio tilted under the weight of his presence.
Auditions were always harsh. Especially for roles in Swan Lake. A classic should be treated with respect, every ballerina knew that. It was why you stepped up with your head held high and your eyes set on the Swan Queen role.
As the tale went, Odette, a virgin girl, pure and sweet, is trapped in the body of a white swan. She desires freedom but only true love can break her curse. Her wish is nearly granted in the form of a prince, but before he can declare his love— her lustful twin, Odile: the black swan, tricks and seduces him. In the end, devastated, the white swan leaps off a cliff and in death, she finds freedom.
Sukuna insisted that both white and black swans should be played by the same ballerina. And so, here you were.
Failing.
"But you're not just the white swan, are you?" He said, voice glass. "Your performance as the black swan is putrid."
It cut you, as it always did.
Your nails itched to dig into your wrists. Instead, you cupped your hands.
"What are you corrections, Mister Ryomen?" You asked, soft and sweet.
He only scoffed. Brushing past you as he left you with the scorn of your reflection.
"The black swan is chaos where there's control. Intense, violent."
His stare sliced through your confidence as he sat back down. "What would a timid little princess know about anything like that?"
Your throat tightened.
He shoved the radio back on and snapped his palms together. Rattling your ribcage as he barked out another: "again. This time with bite."
You tried.
"Again."
And you tried.
"Again."
And you. Tried.
"Again!"
Until your feet cramped. Your nails dug into your shoes. And the glint of his steeled, stern glare in the mirror was all you knew.
Along with your horrid reflection.
The office was an encyclopedia of everything you couldn't be: perfection.
The hardwood desk aligned with the floor window behind it. Shelves lined with rows of books in descending order. The wooden floors crisp. Clean. Tiles too small for you to stand between the cracks of.
Sukuna had taken the former instructor's office and moulded it into a dark, stark palace.
But he was no prince. No king. No saving grace.
Not to you.
Not yet, you thought.
"Are you here to disappoint me again?" His voice rumbled from behind the desk. Paging through a file that looked tiny in his large arms.
Would you be tiny, too? Pretty for him?
You shook the thought away. Cleared your throat and cupped your hands. Sickeningly polite as always.
"You asked to see me." You remind. A part of you wished that you didn't when his maroon glare struck at you over his shoulder.
The file snapped shut. The sound tore through your nerves and urged your spine straighter.
He sighed, raked a hand through his pink hair that boasted his years in grey roots. "I'm giving you the role as the Swan Queen."
Your heart soared—
"Regrettably."
— plummeted.
You weren't used to the word regret stitched across your back like an open wound. Your shoulders itched again. Craved your nails.
Your palms felt their indents instead.
As always, your voice froze into a crystal in your throat. Silencing your questions. But they shone in your doe eyes.
He clicked his tongue in reply.
Tossed the file to his desk and circled around it. His presence needling the hairs on your arms and soaking anxiety into your pores.
Oh, you would look so tiny in his arms.
"No one else in this studio has potential like you do. But you waste it." His words burned harsher than your numbing feet from the hours you wasted away this afternoon. Grappling for perfection. For his attention.
"I'm sorry." The apology was instinctive. So innately you.
"That's the problem." He sneered, and stepped closer. Zeroing in to your personal space and zapping the oxygen out from between the both of you.
Your breath thinned. Eyes flickered. Unable to hold his stare.
A thumb brushed your cheekbone.
Calloused on your soft, smooth skin. He nudged your chin up. Rough. As he leaned over you.
Close. Closer than sweet little girls should allow.
"You're a good girl, aren't you?" His voice, always so sharp and stinging— now a low drag that tickled your heart.
"I'm. . . what?" You whispered. Scared to shatter this moment. His attention.
Maroon eyes convicted your body. Frozen you into a perfect, porcelain doll under his touch.
"A good girl," Sukuna repeated. "Pure, sweet. The perfect white swan."
His thumb traced your cheekbone. Trailed to your chin and raised it further. Forcing you to maintain his gaze.
"But that's what makes you so weak."
A blunt nail dug into your chin, and you gasped. Quiet, even in your pain.
Sukuna shook your face. Aggressive. Broad fingers caging your jaw as the split second of tenderness fractured into an ugly, criticising stare.
"Let go of your inhibitions. Free yourself. You gotta take what you want. Bite. Release your black swan or else,"
His face thrust into yours. Eyes daggering into your soul. Tearing into your pores with tweezers ready weed out all of your flaws.
Acrid. Cutting. Blading, was his sneer.
"You'll never be perfect."
Within these four, quiet walls, you were perfect.
The perfect girl that your mother raised.
Her pure, pristine, sweet little daughter.
You saw her eyes when you looked into the mirror. Your entire home had been decked in reflective glass. So that you were always aware of yourself.
So that you could always see her.
"He gave me the role, mama."
You smile at yourself. Because maybe, just maybe. In this dim bedroom. In your clothes that were once hers.
You could imagine for a second. A fracturing, fleeting second: that it was her smiling back at you.
A mother's love was unmatched. That was what everyone said. That was what you wanted to believe. That her love for you outweighed her love for alcohol and men.
Outweighed her love for your perfection.
She was perfect once, too. A ballerina, just like you. Pristine, and pure. A paragon. Your pillar. Your pinnacle.
It was why she strove for you to be the same. Disciplined you in all the ways a loving mother would. Perfected you into the flawless angel you were, now.
You set your hair. Fixing strands into place and watching your every move in the glass.
If you squinted, perhaps you could imagine her sitting in her favourite chair behind you. Watching you, as she always did.
"But he says I'm. . . too perfect. Nonsense, right?" You scoffed. At least, you tried to.
You were never capable of being anything other than sweet and soft.
Another thing that made her proud.
"He's strict. And mean. But I can handle it." You stretched. Stepped back. Took a bow.
When you faced the mirror again, your mother's eyes looked a lot like Sukuna's.
Strict, stern. Beckoning you to hold their hand and let them forge you into their definition of perfection.
You shook your head. Looked away. Opting to focus on your childhood bedroom.
Old stuffies lined your bedsheets. White, and pink. The bedframe was lithe, elegant. Most of your room was. A place for a princess, as your mother claimed.
You hadn't changed much of it after she died.
She always set your bed. Tidied your room. Fashioned it to what was perfect for you. As she did most things in your life.
"I promise," you eyed the mirror again. Stretching your legs that ached from the hours you committed to tonight. "I'll make you proud. Be the Swan Queen, just like you were."
You approached the white vanity at your bed and twined the music box. Her music box. With a little, plastic ballerina at the centre. Twirling in a perfect pirouette.
Mesmerised, you watched for a small moment. Frozen in time. To a different time. Of your mother, on the stage. Pristine, pure. White.
She smiled at you, then. Little you in the crowd as she effortlessly performed her croisé.
You mirrored the memory. Stood with your legs crossed to the reflection. Arms posed.
crowhybrid!mammon really loves when you touch his wings. Maybe a little too much…👀 series: 1,2,3,4
cw: gn!r, nsfw, wingplay, dryhumping, making out
So turns out birds are really horny animals. Well, your bird is.
You see, crowhybrid!mammon had recently upgraded from strange stalker to your strange, stalker boyfriend! He was endlessly clingy and still liked to watch you from afar sometimes, but the way he would switch from sulking to beaming in seconds when your eyes met his was far too charming to be mad at him.
And life together was great — he was constantly bringing you gifts you knew for a fact he stole, each fancier than the next. You make eye contact with something in a store window for even a second? Next day he’s offering it to you like it’s nothing, insisting he just stumbled upon it but stealing glances every few seconds to see you smile.
It was cute how he would act like he didn’t care when he so clearly did; if the way his shrine of your things came back 10x stronger until they filled his entire house was anything to go by. He really was a bad liar, which is why it’s no surprise you quickly caught on to the little secret he was keeping about his wings.
It all started on another day of his favourite activity: sunbathing. The feeling of the sun on his feathers was exceptional, and it was even better with you beside him — his wing draped over you and an arm slung protectively around your waist. His wings looked almost golden under the warm light, so soft you didn’t think twice when you reached out to touch.
Your fingers lightly danced over the feathers, a touch so faint you don't even know how he felt it but in a mere second his eyes shot open, whole body jolting as he let out a gasp.
At the reaction you immediately yanked your hand back, eyebrows furrowing in concern. “Shit, sorry, did that hurt?”
His wings twitched in response, half his face hidden from where his head was resting on his arms but you could still catch the faint redness on his cheeks. Was he embarrassed that he got startled? “No, it’s just.. .nevermind.”
“I’m sorry,” you apologized again. “I won’t do that anymore.”
“No!” He cringed at how high his voice got, immediately clearing his throat. “It just caught me off guard, that’s all. You can touch them.” To prove his point he adjusted to rest his wing right in your lap and laid there relaxed as ever, even letting out some sounds as your fingers danced across the feathers.
Your hands roam closer to the top where the appendages first sprout out from his back and he shudders, a quiet moan escaping his lips before he slaps a hand over his mouth. You laugh, honoured that you were doing such a good job at what must feel like a massage for him.
Curious, you move to see what the underside of his wings feel like, and at a single brush of your fingers against one of his lower feathers he gasps again, this time breaking into a long groan as his whole body twitches violently and low moans escape his lips. That was not a normal reaction to a massage.
You panic, maybe you weren't supposed to touch that spot? But wouldn’t he have told you about the places he didn’t want you touching? Why was he completely silent right now? Did you hurt him? “Mammon? Are you okay? I’m so sorry!”
He still doesn’t respond, just silently sits up until you notice the fucked-out expression on his face and the wet patch on his pants that makes you put two and two together in no time. He just came in his pants from nothing but you touching his wings.
You almost don’t believe it. “did you just—“
“Yeah.” he mumbles, his face so red it travelled to the tips of his ears. He tries to adjust so you can’t see the damp spot, but the damage has already been done.
“So touching your wings makes you—“
“Yeah,” he clears his throat. “They uh, they’re real sensitive.”
He’s humiliated and on the spot, this really isn’t a good time to but you can’t help it; you immediately burst out laughing. He looks like wants the ground to swallow him whole as you cackle, his frown deepening and the flush on his cheeks darkening.
“Shaddup! S’ your fault for touching them,” he grumbled, turning away from you to avoid eye contact.
“You let me touch them, practically begged me to by shoving them in my lap,” you pointed out. He ignored your teasing and continued to sulk, which made you feel a little guilty for laughing. “Okay okay, I’m sorry.”
When he continued to ignore you you glanced down at his wings, an idea popping up in your head. In seconds your hands were on him again, rubbing right at the spot on the underside that made him come undone just mere moments ago.
His breath hitched, and he let out a sound of protest before it broke into a moan. “Ha, w-wait,” he whined, his whole body jolting like he was trying to twist toward and away from the pleasure at the same time.
“Aw, is it too much, birdie?” you teased.
The nickname made him grit his teeth, and you nearly had the wind knocked out of you with how fast he switched your positions — pushing you onto your back so that he was looming over you, wings casting a dark shadow over you that matched his expression. So maybe you took the teasing a little too far.
“Oh I’ll show you too much, human,” he cursed, but his words held no real malice when his brain was too busy focusing on the pleasure of grinding against you, cock rock hard and desperate in his pants. Your lips met in a messy kiss as he pressed closer and closer to you like he wanted to merge souls.
Your hands didn’t leave his wings as he pressed his weight against you, trapping you underneath him as if you would ever run. The double stimulation was melting his brain as he rutted against you like he was in heat, groaning and gasping into your mouth. “Fuck, please don’t stop,” he whimpered.
And you didn’t, touch creeping higher and higher up to that sensitive spot right at the top, rubbing your palm along the longest feather in ministrations like if you were stroking his length. The implication wasn’t lost on his dazed brain and he shuddered, almost cumming right then and there.
His lips left yours with a gasp for air, a string of spit connecting your lips before he moved to attack your neck, sucking dark, possessive hickeys into your skin and nipping at the spots that he knew were the most sensitive. That combined with his hands exploring everywhere on your body and his tent rubbing against you perfectly had you unraveling underneath him.
The sound of your moans had his own orgasm crashing over him right after yours, the pleasure becoming all too overwhelming as sparks of pleasure shot up his spine and he kissed you with a sense of urgency.
He came with a cry muffled against your lips, talons digging into the blanket under the two of you as more cum flooded his boxers. He was panting, wings flailing away from your touch as he came down and overstimulation started to bleed in.
He collapsed beside you, wing draped over your body like a blanket. His breath was laboured, but he shifted to press a soft kiss against your cheek, tugging you closer against him.
“Mammon?” you ask.
“Yeah?” he responds, a big, dopey smile on his face.
In which crowhybrid!mammon finally returns what he stole, along with some hidden feelings. Parts — 1, 2,3(this!),4
“Guess you just have to come with me to my nest.”
That was the last thing crowhybrid!mammon said to you before swooping you up like a sack of potatoes — holding you in a bridal-carry as he soared through the skies, basking in the sunlight while you tried not to look down and prayed that no one you knew was looking out their window to see this.
You should’ve known those were the words that sealed your fate — he could drop you at any moment! But then again, why would he have saved you from that truck if he was just going to kill you anyway? Exactly, nothing to worry about. Nothing dangerous about letting a strange, thieving bird man who apparently knew where you live take you to his nest.
“Would you quit squirming? If I wanted to hold a worm I would’ve gone out earlier.” he joked, cutting through the silence you two had been in for the last ten minutes of flying.
“Haha, very funny, birdie.” you chuckled dryly.
He frowns. “My names Mammon.”
“Whatever you say birdie.”
He goes silent again after that and you can’t help but laugh at the pout on his face; like he was trying to think of a comeback but couldn’t. Finally after what felt like a good hour of your heart dropping every time you dared to look down you saw it — not the scrappy nest you were expecting, but a cliffside villa?!
The flapping of his wings slowed as he descended, landing square on his feet and setting you down with a surprising amount of gentleness. When he noticed your awe-struck expression he snorted, looking back to his ‘nest’ proudly. “What? Oh don’t tell me you thought I lived in an actual nest. M’not some kind of hobbit.”
He continued to laugh in your face as he waved his clawed hand for you to follow him across the deck, pushing open the doors of what looked like a rich supervillains hide-out with dramatic flair. The first thing you noticed was the interior was not nearly as nice as the outside — a selection of random, mix and matched things scattered all over.
The furniture was sleek and modern, but all the small accessories looked totally out of place, like that knit throw pillow on the couch that— wait, looked identical to one that had disappeared off your balcony months ago.
Noticing your gaze, he swiftly grabbed the pillow and cleared his throat nervously. “Uh, I’ll grab the necklace. Just give me a second here—“ he hurried off, moving to the only door that was shut in the place and opening it just a crack to get through before swiftly shutting it behind him.
Right. Totally not suspicious behaviour at all. Because what reason would he have to steal your pillow? Other than the fact that it was right in the open on the balcony that he swooped onto earlier with ease that made you wonder if he’s done it before — and oh, that he had already stolen from you before?
Not to mention his face when he saw it there, like you weren’t supposed to see it. The curiosity was too much — you walked over and swung open the door only to be met with a room filled head to toe with what was undeniably your stuff.
A sweater there, a waterbottle here. A flower pot where the poor thing had long withered, your rake?! It was like anything he could get his grubby, talon-like hands on he snatched up with no shame. How had you never noticed before? Even your favourite shirt was lying right there on his bed! Speaking of which, was that stain there before?
It was like a shrine, and right there in the middle was him and that damn necklace in his grasp — feathers ruffled up in alarm, looking like a kid caught in the cookie jar. It made you think back to when he first apologized for taking it, how he had turned pink in what you thought was embarrassment for being confronted but must’ve been the shame of knowing that was no where near the only thing of yours he had taken.
“Oh, hey [name].” He huffed nervously, backing away like a cornered animal. “Funny seeing you here!”
You cocked a brow. “What the hell is this?”
He blanked, eyeing the window like he wanted to make a break for it but decided to avoid being turned into grilled crow meat. “Human museum?”
“With only my stuff?”
He fumbled for an excuse for a few more seconds before giving up, wings drooping in defeat and looking down at the necklace in his hands. “Look- I,” he hesitated. “I saw you in the street one day when I was flying and I don’t know I just…there was something about you.”
Now that had you intrigued. “Something that made you want to rob me blind for months on end?”
Sweat beaded at his brow. “Heh, you see- I wanted to see you more but I didn’t want to scare you with the, ya’ know; wings and all, so I tried to keep my distance. But when I saw your stuff I couldn’t help it. I’ve always collected trinkets and whatnot, but all of a sudden all I wanted was yours.”
He cleared his throat. “I was fine with nothing but those pieces of you, with you not knowing I existed, but then you had to go and ruin it by almost getting hit by that truck! You really gotta look both ways, ya know? Anyway, when I saw that necklace I see you in every day, shining all bright like your eyes I just—“
He ran a hand through his hair, cheeks now dusted red at the humiliation of confessing all this. His hair looked so soft, you wondered if his wings would feel that way too if you ran your fingers along the feathers.
“Look, I’m real sorry. I’ll return all of it and never bother you again, I swear.” As proof he started scooping things up — some that you didn’t even notice at first — and you pretended not to see him freeze at the shirt and quickly toss it under his bed.
Something was still gnawing at you, though. “How do you know my name?” you asked.
He paused mid-way through fumbling to not drop multiple mugs, some of which you still had vivid memories of leaving to go grab something from inside and walking back out to see your morning drink was gone. “Huh?”
“When I came in here, you greeted me by name,” you pointed out, and you could tell he was mentally scolding himself for the slip-up.
”I uh- I heard one of the vendors you talk to in the morning say it. The florist.” he scratched his head.
That brought back yet another memory. “Wait, so those flowers that keep showing up on my balcony for weeks since I visited that florist, that was….”
He had his back to you now, trying to look busy but you could tell he was just avoiding letting you see how red his face was. “You kept staring at em’ and you know, least I could do for robbin’ ya.”
This was all insane. You should leave. Go back home, pretend this was all some whack dream, maybe call the cops and hope they don’t transfer you to a therapy clinic’s cell instead when you try to explain a bird-man living on the side of a cliff has been stalking and robbing you for months on end.
You really, really should.
But he was also really, really hot.
And sort of sweet in his own, questionable way. Plus, you had never cared much about that necklace; in fact you were pretty sure you stole it from a Claire’s when you were a kid. Deep down you knew the reason you let him take you here was because he caught your attention from the start.
So really, who could blame you when you instead chose to close the distance between the two of you, lips meeting his in a soft kiss. It catches him so off guard that he drops the arm-full of your things but neither of you care as he melts into it — instantly placing his hands on your waist.
When you pull back his face is flushed, eyes glossy and looking at you like you were a prized jewel. “This mean my courting worked?”
You snort. “That’s what you call courting?”
“It worked, didn’t it?” He grinned, diving right back in to meet your lips again with a big, dopey smile on his face.
a/n: okay so the world building in this is butt. Dont ask me how they got from readers apartment to a whole cliff in a short amount of time…I was too busy thinking about mammon dick to care. And yes he did do what you think he did with that shirt…be glad that’s all he got his hands on 😥
Part 2 of the crowhybrid!mammon shenanigans! pts: 1 3, 4
crowhybrid!mammon who hasn’t left your mind since he vanished with the wind, your prized necklace, and your dignity that day. I mean seriously, what was his deal? Stalk you for weeks, chivalrously rescue you from meeting your end to a coca-cola delivery truck, then stealing your necklace and flying off like some mob version of Big Bird?
you refused to let it end like that. You were going to find him, take your necklace back, and shove it in his smug, feathered face! There was just one small problem: you had no idea how to locate a bird man who could be anywhere from a pawn shop to a casino by now. But not to worry, you have a plan! One that involved crows and a whole lot of bird feed.
“Here birdie,” you cooed, holding out the seeds in your hand to the crow perched on your balcony. They always circled your place at around this time — you had tried to stop feeding them a while ago, but you couldn’t resist those adorable beady eyes.“you see a weird looking crow lately? You know, a big one; maybe had one too many fillings of nuts and berries?”
No response. Not like you were expecting anything anyway, but anyone you told about your strange encounter with the mysterious jewellery-thieving bird man looked at you like you were so insane that trying to talk to animals seemed right up your alley at the moment.
Maybe this was a lost cause — perhaps he would soon be nothing more than a memory you would look back on and convince yourself was just a weird dream. After all, he did look straight out of one — white hair that looked soft to the touch, blue eyes that seemed to have hints of gold in them when the sun hit, and of course those beautiful dark wings on his back that you wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch.
“Something on your mind?”
You screamed at the sudden voice behind you, causing all the ravens to panic and fly away in a frantic, scattered mess of black feathers. You whipped around, making eye contact with none other than exactly what was on your mind for weeks now.
“Don’t just pop up behind me like that you psycho!” you shouted, annoyance creeping in at seeing him so calmly sat on your fire escape steps, legs stretched comfortably like he owned the place.
He chuckled, grinning at you like an old friend. “You talk to birds and I’m the crazy one?”
“You are a bird!”
“Half bird,” he corrected, leaning back and placing the back of his head in his hands. His smile faded, and he bit almost nervously at his lip for a moment, like he was lost in thought. “Look, I’m sorry I stole your necklace,” he mumbled, the tips of his ears turning pink.
You raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? A month late apology is your choice of action?”
He frowned. “Do you want it back or not?”
You paused. This guy was seriously getting on your nerves, but this was probably your only chance to get it back; even if it meant having to cooperate with a rude crow currently lazing on your fire escape like it’s a quality beach chair.
“Fine, I accept your apology. Now give it back.” you made a grabbing motion with your hand.
He sighed dramatically, and it’s like you could hear the final strands of your patience snapping. “I don’t know…” he complained, “I don’t feel like making so many trips.. .hard on the wings.”
Your eye twitched. “So?”
He smiled innocently, but you could see the devious glint in his eyes. “So, guess you just have to come with me to my nest.”
a/n: tbh I think I like writing him more than I like dragon!mammon….stay tuned for part 3! It’s gonna get good ;) (for anyone waiting for smut, I regret to inform it won’t be happening until pt 4, sorry to all those who I’m blue balling 😔)
crowhybrid!mammon x gn!reader. Parts: 1(this!) 2, 3, 4
crowhybrid!mammon who you were 99% sure was the source of the gaze you’ve been feeling on you for the past 2 weeks. You had already made the educated guess that you were being stalked by day 3 of your nervous system screaming at you that there were eyes on you, but you really weren’t expecting the culprit to be….well, whatever that is.
Inky black, sharp looking fingers that looked more like talons than anything, small feathers sprouting from the sides of his face and a pair of large, beautiful wings on his back. He was something out of a movie — or more like some creepy old folklore, if you were being honest.
You had so many questions, like who is he, what is he, and why has he been following you and staring you down for weeks on end? You were happy to convince yourself you were just hallucinating and carry on, but then he had to go and prove he was far more than a figment of your imagination.
It was the start of week 3 with the bird man still! watching you when it happened. You were crossing the road, too distracted looking at a commotion up ahead that you didn’t look — only hearing the blaring sound of a horn seconds before something grabbed the back of your shirt and yanked.
crowhybrid!mammon who just saved you from being turned into a heap of broken bones by a semi-truck. When you turned around to look at him, your expression stuck in shock as you tried to process how you were seconds away from becoming a red smear on the concrete — he just glared, feathers literally ruffling in annoyance.
“thank yo—“
“Idiot.”
You blinked. He didn’t even give you a second to respond to the insult before he was flying off, leaving you to stand there and look around like an idiot for anyone who could vouch that they also just saw the strange, apparently very rude bird guy and you weren’t just losing your mind.
Instead of finding any witnesses, though, you find your neck feels a little emptier than it did before. You feel at your collarbone in disbelief to find that your necklace is gone. Sure as hell, when you look up there he is, up up and away with your precious jewelry shining in his thieving little grip.
You don’t even know what to say.
“You feathered fuck!! Give that back!”
You don’t miss the different kind of bird he flips you as he flies off into the distance.
a/n: this is the stupidest thing I’ve ever written I’m giggling but like.. .comment if you want a part 2...? 👀
congrats, you accidentally turned your whiny demon boyfriend into a vampire. now, how are you gonna keep him distracted from the toe-curling bloodlust, until you figure out how to turn him back?
pairing: vampire! mammon x gn! reader
contents: bondage, biting, handjob, unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasm, overstimulation, blood-drinking, petnames (treasure, baby) praise, you wear his clothes
wordcount: 1.8k
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT
Ah yes, another day in the Devildom, another day of We–Accidentially–Turned–My–Boyfriend–Into–A–Vampire–Due–To–A–Magic–Amulet–We–Found–At–The–Bottom–Of–A–Lake–And–Now–We–Have–To–Figure–Out–Away–To–Turn–Him–Back–Before–He–Eats–Everyone.
You sigh and look at your boyfriend, who’s been dutifully tied to his headboard by a spell Solomon quickly showed you. It presents itself as whatever the one who cast it wants it to. In your case, this means pretty yellow ribbons wrapped around his neck, torso, and hips.
Although you wish you were at the library trying to help Mammon’s brothers and Solomon find a solution to this new-found problem, it was agreed upon that it’s best you stay here. The spell needs to be redone every hour, and someone needs to watch him.
You’re also the only person Mammon isn’t snarling and yelling curses at. Instead, your demon is resolving to begging. Pretty, eerily red eyes locked on your form at all times, eyebrows knitted together, and lips shaped in a pout.
“Please,” he whines, and you sigh from your end of the bed. “I’m tired, treasure. And cold. And my teeth hurt.”
He’s all complaints and whines, but you know what he’s really after. You can see the tent in his pants and the way his mouth salivates just by looking at you. You have no doubt all he wants to do is have you sit pretty and pliant on his cock while he buries his teeth in your neck. You’re not sure it’s a good idea.
“You know we can’t, baby,” you reply, flipping through the book of spells in your lap. It hurts you to say, though. Especially with the whimper that leaves your boyfriend and the way he sinks into his bed, his body slumping against the headboard behind him.
“But the others are already searchin’ for a spell,” he tries to reason. “Your job is to care for me.”
Your heart sinks, and you sigh, closing the book in your lap. Solomon did tell you that they would figure it out soon enough. Would it be so bad if you gave in and helped out Mammon in the way only you can? You glare at him, but he only seems to light up, knowing he’s won this round.
“Come sit, baby,” he encourages, squirming in his seat, and you crawl over to him, straddling his lap and positioning yourself right on top of his bulge. The moan that leaves Mammon is downright guttural. He throws his head back, hitting the wall behind him with a thud as his eyes roll back and his whole body shudders.
The spell doesn’t even allow him to thrust up into you. He can only sit and look pretty with his arms locked to his sides and his hands clenched into fists. He’s wearing sweatpants and a thin shirt that’s coated in sweat, and you can see the patch of precum soiling the fabric beneath you.
You, like the fucking tease you are, are wearing Mammon’s shirt and a pair of his boxers. With only two thin layers separating your bodies, Mammon has never felt more desperate. He wishes he could get you underneath him and bury his cock in your tight heat while he sink his teeth into your neck. He’d fuck you so good; he knows he would, and your blood would be the perfect reward.
He can hear it rushing in your veins, and it clouds his judgement. You smell so nice. Sweet and salty, the perfect combination of human and magic.
You sigh and flip his sweaty hair away from his forehead.
“You’re burning up, baby,” you mutter, and he nods, still pouting at you and giving you his most perfect puppy eyes, though you’re slightly distracted by his pupils being red, not the usual mix of blue and yellow that you love.
“Please,” he mutters, and you watch drool collect in the corners of his lips, his mouth not being used to the new and much more prominent fangs in his mouth. “Hurts,”
You visibly soften and bring your hands to his crotch, palming his cock beneath his sweats. Mammon mewls at this, his eyes going half-lidded, and you press harder, stroking the imprint of his length before you slip your hand beneath the waistband and pull out his flushed throbbing dick. Mammon curses at the contact, and you can tell he wants to buck up into your hand but he can’t.
Slowly, you stroke him while you lean in and kiss his jaw. Unfortunately, he can’t get any kisses on the lips today. This will have to do. But it seems to be enough for your horny boyfriend because globs of precum coat your hand, making the glide easier as his dick twitches in your hold. You watch his Adam's apple bop, and you slip a free hand underneath his shirt, feeling his abs tense.
“My poor baby,” you hum, kissing his neck this time. “My sweet demon. I wish I could give you what you want,” you say, and Mammon whines.
“You can. I promise. I’ll be good, won’ take too much.”
You shake your head and cup his cheek.
“We both know you can’t, baby." Your voice is so sweet. Mammon feels the buildup of an orgasm in his core, and he moans unashamed into the air. You run your thumb over his tip, and he shudders hard, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he comes onto your hand. You coo, stroking him through his orgasm, coaxing him back to you and grinning at him.
“That feel good?”
“Yes, more please.”
You love it when Mammon gets pliant like this. A little praise, and he’s putty in your hands, all his big bad demon facade gone as he begs for orgasm after orgasm. Mammon loves being tortured. He loves when you tease him, when you bring him right to the edge, only to remove your affections and leave him hanging, but he loves it more when you make him come again and again and again, till he’s sobbing, babbling incoherent phrases, whether it’s by your hands, mouth, or sweet warmth.
You don’t say anything, but you pull off your (Mammon's) boxers and position his swollen cockhead right at your entrance, sinking down on him. The glide is easy due to his cock being coated in cum, but your eyes still sting at the stretch and your mouth falls agape as you stabilise yourself with your hands on his shoulders.
Your boyfriend is a mess. Your distraction is working because he’s no longer thinking about eating you, much too busy with how good you feel around him and how tight and warm it all is. He throbs and throbs, cock leaking obscene amounts of precum and you giggle, though you’re also affected by him being nestled deep inside of you.
“Feels good?” you repeat, and Mammon nods furiously.
“So good,” his chin is coated in spit, and tears are rolling down his cheeks. You wipe them gently with your thumbs before moving down to his mouth and running your fingers over his gums.
Mammon moans loudly at this, and you gasp, pressing harder against his gums, watching the way your boyfriend transforms into a spineless mess. You massage his gums while you slowly begin grinding your hips against his, and it barely takes a minute before Mammon comes inside you, dick painting your walls white. You moan at the feeling, watching the way his brows knit together in bliss.
“Phuck me, shoo phucking good,” he whines in muffled speech, and you laugh.
“Mammon, baby, you look like a mess,” you state, removing your spit-coated fingers from his mouth but continuing to grind against him. He glares at you but doesn’t correct you, probably well aware of how he looks right now.
His dick feels like it’s going to fall off. You’re gonna milk him dry at this pace, and he tugs on his restraints, desperately wanting to push you into his mattress and sink his teeth into your neck.
Delighted, he realises that the restraints fall off. The spell has worn off. You barely have time to react before you’re flipped around, Mammon settling his weight on top of you and pushing your legs to your stomach, trapping you in a mean mating press. He puts both your legs over one shoulder, so he can bury his face in your neck and breathe you in.
His hips are mean. You think you might've teased him too much this time because he’s fucking you hard and fast, his tip nudging at your sweet spot, making you see starts. Any thoughts on how to get out of this situation are immediately pushed to the back of your mind as you come hard, your body tensing up and your walls squeezing Mammon’s cock.
Mammon wastes no time to bury his teeth in your neck, piercing through your flesh. The minute your blood reaches his taste buds, he comes too, filling you up for the second time. He moans loudly into your neck, fucking you both into overstimulation, ignoring your whines and pleas as your eyes roll to the back of your head and your toes curl.
The feeling of being used as a toy while Mammon’s teeth simultaneously sink into your neck is euphoric. You feel high on the mix of pain and pleasure, along with the slight lightheadedness that comes with being fed on.
Once Mammon has had his fill, he lets go of your neck. The little yellow monster in his stomach tells him to have more, to eat up, but then he looks at your face and the way your mouth is slightly agape, and your brows are furrowed, small gasps leaving you each time his cock bottoms out inside of you and all desire to suck you dry is replaced with a need to make you come again and again and again.
“Mams,” you whimper, wrapping your arms around his neck, and he moans, kissing your cheek and smearing blood on your skin.
“You taste so good, treasure, so fuckin’ good,” he whines, his hips moving faster against the back of your thighs. You can hardly say anything, having been reduced to ah! ah! ah! and Mammon giggles.
“Wanna make you come again,” he states, and you shake your head, your eyes filling with dread. Your body is burning. You think you might die if you come again, but Mammon smiles boyishly and nuzzles his head into your neck, licking over the wounds he left. “As a thank you,” he adds.
You can feel the knot in your core tightening, and you cry out when you come, your vision going white, and blood rushing in your ears. You don’t even hear when the door to Mammon’s room is thrown open.
A/N: You haven't seen Mammon all day, and when you do find him at last, it seems he might be a bit... under the weather.
Why do these keep getting longer and longer... I was trying to keep them under 1K each
Masterlist
You hadn’t seen Mammon for the entire day, which while it shouldn’t be out of the ordinary to not see much of him, not even a hint of his white hair worried you. His brothers had waved away your concerns, stating the Avatar of Greed was just distracted by his latest scam. Except, even when Mammon is busy scheming he still makes sure to see you at some point. You can even hear his voice in your ear, “Your first man’s gotta look after ya.”
So now, after eating, you’re outside of his room, a plate in hand as you knock on his door. “Mammon, you missed dinner. I saved you a plate which wasn’t easy with Beel right behind me every step of the way.”
Silence through the door, but you know he’s in there. Having used the tracker app on your phone that Lucifer had made all of you install a few months ago to confirm it. Or at least his phone was there, and Mammon never goes anywhere without it.
“Come on Mammon, I know you’re in there.” Instead of knocking, you bang your fist against it. “If I have to, I will use the pact to make you open this damn door.”
Hearing movement through the wood you grin. “Go away.” Your grin leaves your face pretty quickly hearing that.
“Seriously?” You don’t bother hiding your annoyance at him. “Why do you have to be a jerk after I fought off Beel!” Almost ready to throw the plate to the ground. “I haven’t seen you all day, and that’s the shit you say?”
“Just leave alright! I don’t wanna see ya.” That stings. Just enough to make you mad enough to narrow your eyes at the door, while your heart squeezes inside your chest.
“Fine Mammon.” Taking a deep inhale but not moving a single step away from his door. Feeling your feet as if rooted to the floor as you try to focus on that ball of yarn inside of you, pulling on one of the threads just enough that it makes the tips of your fingers tingle and your toes curl from the magic, grasping the golden wire that is your pact with Mammon in your mind. “I command you to open this door.” If he won’t open it and wants to be a dick about it, you’re gonna make him and then shove the plate in his face. Damn ungrateful demon.
You’re expecting the door to slam open with Mammon standing there with his eyes narrowed at you before starting to sputter nonsense. Bracing yourself for the force of the door hitting the wall that you know will be enough to make you jolt upwards.
When it slowly swings open, like being pulled by a string you’re dumbfounded. Even more so by the lack of Mammon. That is too unexpected to ignore, given that him telling you to leave meant he had to be close to it when he answered you. “Mams?” Taking a step inside his room, placing the plate on the side table near his door that he usually tosses his keys on top of.
No answer.
But you can see a cord that looks like the same material he uses to keep the raven feathers attached to his belt tied around the doorknob. The other portion leading more into his room, with most of the lights turned out.
“Mams?” Another call of his name as you step more into the room, following the cord because it would make sense for the other end to be in his hand. Except with the only light coming from the door, you can’t exactly see well and you’re worried about hitting the pool table you know isn’t that far inside his room.
You’re starting to feel a prickle along your skin, the fine hairs along the back of your neck are standing up. Along with the ones on your arms as a chill sweeps through you. “Ok Mammon, whatever you’re doing, stop it. I get it.” Your mouth feels like cotton has been stuffed in your cheeks. “I shouldn’t have been so pushy.” Feeling your hip hit the edge of something, your hand reaching down and feeling leather under your palm. One of the couches.
With your heart racing you lift a hand to your chest, pressing hard against your ribs under your breast. Taking a deep inhale to try and get yourself to calm down, your nose twitching as you smell something you can’t place. It’s like a mix of old coins and, rainbow popcorn? Tilting your head in confusion as that strange smell seems to invade your nostrils.
Your hand no longer at your chest, instead rubbing at your temple now. “What the h-” Muttering the words as you open your eyes, only to notice two blue points of light right in front of you. “Mammon?” Squinting in the low light you can make out his figure. A glint of gold as he shifts and you realize he’s in his demon form, the light from the door glinting on the metal attached to his collar.
With him there you step forward, and Mammon takes a step back. An unsteady step at that, his arms trembling enough that it’s making the golden weight at the bottom strap of his jacket jingle against him. When you take another step forward, Mammon repeats his action and is close enough to his closet that the LED lights pop on.
His skin is covered in sweat, his hair is more mussed than usual, and there’s a very vivid flush across his cheeks. “I need ya ta leave.” Lifting his arm and placing his hand against the wall to support himself, looking at the ground briefly, you watch a single bead of sweat fall off the point of his nose to make a soft splash on the floor. That strange smell grows stronger, and belatedly you realize it's coming from him.
“Mammon, are you alright?” Ignoring his comment you close that final distance, reaching out to slide your fingers along his jaw. “Damnit Mams, your skin feels like it’s on fire.” You almost jerk your hand away like you’ve been burned, your concern for him the only thing that keeps you from doing just that. “Are you sic-”
You don’t get to finish as Mammon lifts his head and slots his mouth over yours, his hands grabbing your hips. Before you know it your back is to the wall, moaning at how dominating the kiss is, and Mammon wastes no time sliping his tongue past your lips. The inner muscles of your walls clenching as you swallow the saliva pooling near the back of your throat.
Panting when he pulls away, your heart hammering inside of your chest hard enough that it hurts, but you can feel a warmth spreading through you like some kind of syrup. “I need ya ta leave Treasure.” His voice hoarse but his hands don’t move, in a way trapping you in his embrace. “I don’t wanna do somethin’ we’re both gonna regret.”
Letting your head fall back against the wall, hearing your pulse in your ears as you try to make sense of the heat spreading through you from where you swallowed his spit. Aware of the slick starting to form inside your core and seeping past your opening. “What if I don’t wanna leave? You’re.” Pausing to swallow past the saliva that still seems to be pooling in your mouth. “You’re in pain right?”
“It I’ll pass.” Burying his nose along your skin, inhaling the smell of your skin like it can heal him. “I need to let you leave.” Muttering the words as he seems to crowd more into your space instead of pulling away. His chest pressed against yours and his hand trailing along your side. “It’s getting harder ta think.” His hips shifting, you can feel the bulge in his pants as he grinds into your body.
“Mammon, I don’t understand.” Placing one of your hands along the back of his neck, your fingers tangling in his white hair, feeling the dampness sticking to the strands. The more he grinds against you, the hotter you feel, aware of your clothes starting to stick to your skin from the moisture starting to form along your skin.
“My body is screamin ta breed ya. It has been since I woke up this morning to get you under me and pump ya full.” Shifting his head so his nose traces up along the tendon of your neck, up to the soft skin under your ear. Aligning his lips with your pulse, hammering along your throat. “Which is why ya need to leave. I won’t do that to ya.” Licking the pulsing skin just under the edge of your jaw.
Your brain is like a fuzzy soup because between the heat from his body crowding yours, as well as your own, you feel like you’re on the edge of being drunk. Warm and hazy, but still lucid enough to think. “Mams.” Whispering his name hoping he’ll stop lapping at your neck. “You realize you’re making it hard to leave, don’t you?” It feels a little strange to say that since your fingers grip the strands of his hair tighter, like you’re trying to keep him against you.
“I told ya, it’s hard ta think.” His hand sliding along your side, slowly lifting the material of your shirt, even if the feel of the damp fabric clinging to your back being dragged upward keeps you from being too lost in the haze of your brain.
If you thought about it, without Mammon this close you might have realized the strange smell was coming from him and pulling you into the same fog gripping him. Too bad for you, most of your capabilities for higher thinking were slowly fading, almost like your body was reacting. It felt like you had just run a fair distance and were on the edge of being drunk.
Which left you a sweaty mess feeling a warmth through your limbs and a flush along your neck and face, with a very horny demon pressed against you. Not that being in that position might have stopped you from uttering your next words.
“What if I don’t want to leave?” Giving your hips a small roll, grinding into the leather covering one of his thighs. “What if I want you to fill me up?” Your voice dropping into a moan when the tacky fabric covering your sex hits that bundle of nerves.
At your words, Mammon feels his pants grow somehow impossibly tighter. Groaning as he tries to find the will to pull away from you, to ask you to leave again without his body caging yours against the wall just inside his closet.
“Fuck.” Hearing his voice right in your ear as he seems to give up on lifting your shirt, having made enough room for his palm to press against the small of your back. “I’m the Great Mammon, Avatar of Greed.” A husk in his voice as he starts to move his leg, making it so you’re grinding harder against his thigh. “Tell me what ya want, Treasure.” Dragging his teeth along the skin just below your earlobe. “Cus you're the only person I’m willing ta spoil.”
“You’re just saying that because you want to be greedy.” The hand not in his hair moving to grip one of the leather knots of his jacket and giving it a tug. “And I know, I’m what you want.” Twisting the fingers in his hair to tug his head back away from your neck. Catching his eyes to notice that the blue is almost gone with how wide his pupils are, making the strange yellow at the bottom of his eyes more vivid. Licking your lips and watching his gaze shift to follow the movement. Swallowing as you know this is the moment where you tell him to let you leave and try to get out of the door as fast as you can, or the moment you stay.
“Breed me, Mammon.” Whispering the words that hang in the silence that seems to descend on the two of you for several heartbeats.
You don’t know who moved first. What you do know is teeth clack together in both of your hurried movements to connect your lips. Shifting to try and make the connection smoother, but instead it gets messier. Spit dripping from the corner of your mouth, tongues prodding with the sound of moans deep in both of your throats. All while your hands are moving, belts being undone, metal zippers lowered, and pants being removed.
It’s awkward.
It’s messy.
Limbs moving in a mad scramble.
It’s hot.
No longer grinding against his thigh, the chill in the air against your bare sex sends a line of lighting along your spine, kicking your pants away. Rather different from the warmth against your palm as you pump his length. He’s hard, and he was leaking from his tip like a faucet the moment you touched him.
“No teasing.” Panting the words as his hands land on your hips to lift you upwards, forcing your hand away from his cock. “Please.” Grabbing the collar of his jacket as you lick your lips to try and stop you from yanking his head back to kiss him again.
“I’m too far gone ta tease ya.” Once he has you high enough he uses his body to press you against the wall again, allowing him the use of one of his hands. Using it to slide the tip of his cock between your dripping folds, smearing the fluid around to better coat the head before pressing it against your hole. “Deep breath.” It’s the only warning he gives.
Throwing your head back as he sinks his long shaft deep inside of your core. Mammon’s cock might be average when it comes to girth in your experience, his length however? He could easily be in porn, the head hitting your cervix with ease and there’s still several inches between the fine white hairs around his base and your folds. “So warm and tight.” Mammon is panting as he enjoys your pussy for a moment before he starts to move. “Yer perfect Treasure.” Moaning the words as he moves with purpose.
One of your hands moves to grab his hair again, tugging on the strands as your insides pulse. Mammon’s pace pulling more and more moisture from your core as it makes you more and more aroused. Moaning yourself as he pulls himself halfway out before slamming back in, each brush of his tip against your spongy insides has your walls clenching. Like you’re trying to keep his dick as deep as you can. “Mams!” Wishing the two of you had taken the time to remove your shirt as the sweat is dripping from your hair into the material, pulling you from the immersion of his thrusts growing faster.
“Fuck Treasure.” Moaning, he shifts so he can press his face against your shoulder, one of his hands going from your hip again to where your bodies are joined. Using his thumb to gather some of your mixed fluids to rub at your clit. “Just like that.” You moan, the movements of his hips growing erratic until he stills.
His length as deep as he can go inside of your body and you feel the heat as he cums inside of you, whispering your name as he climaxes.
Your grip on his hair loosening to play with the hair instead of grabbing the soaked strands like they were a stress ball. “I don’t think you’ve ever finished that fast.” Chuckling a little as you move your fingers to tilt his face away from where it’s buried into your shoulder.
“I ain’t finished.” Muttering the words as he lets you guide his head back, his eyes narrowed in post orgasmic bliss. Rolling his hips in a circular motion that makes you gasp. “If anythin’ I’m just getting started.” Wrapping one of his arms around your lower back as he pulls away from the wall, keeping you in his arms but not held as high. The new angle has pressure more against the front of your cunt, he feels bigger, if that’s even possible. Tilting his head so he can connect your lips while still keeping you on his cock.
Licking the inside of your mouth as if savoring the taste of you while he walks somewhere else in his room. It isn’t long before you realize it’s towards the door, pulling away from him just long enough to realize it’s still open.
“No one would have seen ya from the closet.” Mammon whispers, having felt your body tense around his length. “And they ain’t ever seeing ya like this.” With that done, Mammon goes back to mapping your mouth with his tongue before walking back to the couch and sitting on his ass. Adjusting your legs as he does and you feel your gummy walls spasm at the angle change again.
“Time for this ta go.” Leaning back and using his hands to pull your shirt upwards and over your head before tossing it away. Instead of removing your bra, he pushes the cups down, licking his lips as he stares at the raised nubs on each breast. Placing his palm around one so he can take a handful, flexing his fingers to squeeze it.
You moan again, shifting your hips to get more friction in your core once more. While the whole open door moment had your arousal cooling, him still being rock hard is bringing you back to wanting your own orgasm to rack through your system. “I thought you said you wouldn’t tease?”
“That was before my head cleared from that first load.” He might have said the words but the expression on his face is clearly one that’s still in a fog of desire.
“For some reason I don’t beli-” Gasp when Mammon lifts his hips, jostling you upwards and giving you some of that delicious friction you’re after.
“Maybe.” With his other hand on the curve of your ass, using it to lift you up and down in his lap while he continues to play with your breast. “I’m tryin’ to let ya catch your breath. Or didcha forget you’re human?” It’s hard to argue with him since no, you didn’t forget but based on how he had been acting you had expected him to.
“It sounds like an excuse for you to keep teasing me.” Moaning as he starts to move you faster, and instead of answering you he moves so he can suck at your breast while still playing with the other. Suffice to say it doesn’t take long before he seems to be shooting another load in your core, only this time he doesn’t stop moving.
Like he’s not only intent on breeding you, but also trying to push you over the edge as well. Another slight shift, and you feel the coil in your stomach starting to grow tighter. One of the metal weights on his jacket that keeps the loose leather straps from flying around has landed between your bodies and it’s rubbing against your clit as Mammon lifts you in his lap. The chill makes you see stars as you pant his name when your climax hits you.
“That’s it Treasure.” Licking your nipple as he keeps moving you, dragging your orgasm out. “Keep clenching for me, I’m gonna give ya more.” Your spasming core massaging his length, a feeling that has Mammon feeling his balls tighten before he hisses your name. Slamming your down on his length hard enough to make you have a smaller orgasm as he sputs his cum right against your cervix.
Both of his hands moving to hold your shoulders as he kisses along your breasts and chest, waiting for your insides to slow their shifting and enjoying the taste of sweat on your skin.
“Shit.” It’s the first thing that falls from your mouth as you blink back to your senses. “That was…” Trailing off as you reach up to play with his white locks.
“If ya say anything less than amazin’ yer getting a gag.” You just laugh before gripping both of his horns to tilt his head back, forcing him away from your chest so you can kiss him. The taste of salt mixing in as you deepen it, coiling your tongue along his as you try to at least convey how good you feel through your actions.
Coming back up for air just as your lungs start to burn. “It was amazing.” His eyes are more golden now as he smirks, the blue still missing from how wide the black is. “I don’t think I’ve ever cum that hard.” Giving another laugh as you let your head fall forward to press against his.
“I’m far from done Treasure.” A flash in his eyes and you find his hand on your chest to push you back, with your feet against the headrest. It’s a strange position, almost like you’re going backward down his body, even more so when your hands land on the floor. “What a nice view.” You hear the sound of him licking his lips before he starts to move you, the new angle has his tip dragging along the upper muscles lining the inside of your cunt. Whining at the sensation since he seems to be brushing both your G spot and A spot with every thrust.
It isn’t long before you feel that same coil in your growing tighter, the sound of wet slaps as he keeps sliding you harder and faster. “Mammon!” Screaming his name when your insides squeeze together like you’re trying to milk him, only aware of another load of his seed pumped inside of you when he lifts you back up. Rubbing your face as the chemicals from your brain floating in your system are starting to make you sleepy.
“Tired Treasure?” You nod, feeling him shift you so he can stand again. Heading for his bed before letting out a low laugh that makes you twitch. Looking down to see a thick band of white around his shaft, right around the area where you can take his length. It’s hot, and your stomach is clenching at the thought of adding to the ring. “I’ll be more gentle this round.” Lifting your head to see his eyes glowing in the dim lights. “Not makin’ any promises for the rest of em.”
You are both excited and terrified at the prospect.
The next morning, you wake up to heavy limbs with your entire body sore. Groaning when you make the slightest shift to try and adjust against the hardness you feel under your hip. A moan from behind you, and you realize it’s one of Mammon’s boots under you. Blinking before you flush as you remember how many different rounds the two of you had, how eventually he had stripped down as well. At one point even using his wings to play with your breasts while painting your insides white.
“Mams?” Your voice sounds hoarse, trying to shift more after tossing the stupid boot away, only to pause. Your eyes slowly moving downwards as you push the sheet over your form away, a slight bulge in the lowest part of your abdomen. Realizing he’s still inside of you, and hard.
“Stop movin’ I’m finally calming down.” His hands wrap around you as he buries his face into the side of your neck and hair. “If ya move too much I’m gonna need to pump more back inta ya.”
“So, we’re not leaving your room today.”
“No. Now go back ta sleep.” His voice mumbled as he somehow pulls you even tighter against him.
“Fine.” Trying to ignore the way your body hurts so you can slip back into dreamland.
The next time you wake up, Mammon is fussing over you. Helping you shower and constantly asking if you need anything, which is kind of nice and sweet. Even his whispers of how sorry he is for putting you through that are endearing. Telling him that next time it happens, he better not hide and make you come looking for him.
pairing: mammon x afab! reader (wearing a skirt)
contents: smut, piv, semi-public (RAD bathroom), cunnilingus, creampie, praise, pet names (treasure, baby), pervert desperate mammon <3, panty sniffing
wordcount: 1.5k
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT.
You’re pushed into a bathroom, the lock clicking in place behind you as your perpetrator pushes you over the sink, his chest enveloping your back. For a second, panic rises before you look in the mirror, seeing the flash of white hair, the familiar scent of Mammon’s cologne and a hint of firecracker clouding your senses.
“Mams, what are you– ah!”
You gasp when your skirt is pulled up, the cold air of the bathroom hitting the back of your thighs, as Mammon practically falls to his knees, big hands digging into your soft skin as he noses at your clothed pussy.
“I’m sorry, treasure, couldn't help myself. You smell so good.”
He’s moaning now, kissing you over your underwear, while his hands force you to spread your thighs even more. You yelp, grabbing the sink for balance, and you hear a victory hum when you’re pressed closer into Mammon’s face, who has begun making out with your pussy. “Fuck, not bad for a human,”
The comment makes you laugh, though it turns into a moan when he sucks on your clit, sending a jolt of stimulation up your spine.
“Mammon!” You gasp, gripping the porcelain harder, and you glance back, trying to get a peek at the demon between your legs. “You’re gonna ruin my underwear,” you complain, and he blows out a puff of air, annoyed that you’re interrupting him, before pulling away just enough to pull the soaked fabric down to your knees.
“There ya go. You happy now?” He says, and pride blooms in his chest when he sees just how wet you are, your cunt already glistening just for him. “Now don’t go complaining anymore, okay, brat?”
You’re about to scold him further, but all words die on your tongue when he dives in, kissing and sucking on your clit while two fingers tease your entrance, barely squeezing past the first ring of entrance before pulling back. He plays with your slick, spreading it all over your folds, then licking it clean with his tongue.
You squeeze your eyes shut, biting your lower lip to prevent yourself from getting too loud—well aware that anyone could just walk past outside. With heightened demon hearing and everything too—however, when Mammon abruptly bullies two fingers inside you, you can’t help but moan, eyes nearly rolling back inside your head at the way he curls his fingers into your G-spot.
“Fuck, treasure,” he moans into your pussy, feeling the way you clench around the sudden intrusion, slick practically already pouring down his wrist. “You’re so wet, there’s barely any resistance.”
It comes out like a chuckle while he begins pumping in and out of you. “All this for me?” he whines, and you’re pretty sure he’s humping your leg at this point, lips abandoning your clit to suck marks into your inner thighs while he watches the way you’re stretched around his fingers. “All soaked for the Great Mammon, huh?”
It’s a mix of wonder and pride, though mostly just greed. He bites into your thigh, and you yelp, knuckles hurting with how hard you’re gripping the sink now, your orgasm approaching dangerously fast.
“Mams, I’m gonna come,” you announce, as if he couldn't already tell by the way you’re fluttering around him, but then he promptly removes his fingers from your heat, and you nearly sob, your high gradually ebbing away again.
“Why?” you pout, and you watch through the mirror as he stands up, locking eyes in the reflection while you hear the sound of his zipper.
“Want ya on my cock,” he states, leaning over you and kissing your cheek. He rubs his length along your folds, groaning at the wetness, as he uses his other hand to grab your hip, keeping you in place.
You push back against him, eager to get him inside, and it becomes too much for your poor demon, too tempting, as loses all restraint and pushes all of himself inside you in one go. It’s instant, the way your eyes roll back and you cry out, demon cock seated deep in your guts, stretching you further than you thought possible prior to becoming an exchange student in the Devildom.
It’s always a challenge taking him, even despite the fingering and how wet you are. Mammon coos, eyes glinting yellow, as one hand keeps you upright by your hip while the other strokes your stomach, right above his cock.
“You’re so good,” Mammon murmurs, kissing the shell of your ear, your jaw, and your neck. “My perfect human, always takin’ me so well,” Praise falls from his mouth in abundance, making you feel fuzzy and warm as he slowly starts grinding into you, turning your face and kissing you to swallow each and every moan and whimper that tumbles from your lips.
He’s barely moving, but you’re so sensitive, reaching back, not sure if you’re trying to push his pelvis away or bring him closer, but it’s futile, as he grabs your hand, intertwining your fingers and pushing them against the wall, trying to stabilise himself. He’s so close that your hips are digging into the sink, and you’re sure there will be bruising tomorrow, but you can’t bring yourself to care, not when he draws back all the way, till only his tip is inside you, before pushing in again, starting a slow, deep pace.
You’re gasping, each push pulling a symphony of moans from you, all decency left far behind as your orgasm draws close once again. Mammon is still praising you. You’re honestly not sure if he’s stopped talking since he first got inside of you, but it’s impossible to decipher what he’s saying through the haze of your pleasure.
Pretty. Good. Warm. Soft. Your first man. His human. His, his, his, his—
Your head droops, pleasure curling in your stomach, and you feel a hand wrap around your throat, holding you up as Mammon buries his face in your neck, taking a deep breath in.
“Baby,” he whimpers, and you smile, toes curling in your shoes when he hits your G-spot, back arching further into the sink when he does it again.
“Gonna come,” you state, and this time Mammon snakes a hand down to play with your clit, rubbing firm circles till you break, soaking his cock while you shake.
“Oh, yes, yes, yes, yes—”
Your mouth falls open, a broken moan leaving you, and Mammon looks up, watching your expression in the mirror, taking in the way your brows scrunch and your breath hitches.
It’s impossible for him to last any longer, and he pushes himself as deep as he can go, shooting ropes of cum inside of you, a plethora of moans and praises tumbling out, his hips stuttering against you.
You stay like that for a while, bodies hot against each other, before he pulls out, groaning as he watches his cum dribble out of your sore cunt. You shift at the sudden emptiness while Mammon puts his dick away, still semi-hard and coated in your juices, and then quickly puts your underwear back in place. It instantly turns sticky, and you huff, shaking your head as he puts your skirt back in place.
He pats your ass before helping you turn around. You stumble slightly, still feeling the aftershocks of your high as you wrap your arms around his neck.
“I hate you,” you giggle, and Mammon thinks you look so good like this, all cock-drunk after being fucked silly. You punch his shoulder, though he barely feels anything, and it’s hard to hold back the dopey smile forming on his lips. “You’re such a pervert.”
“You’re way too tasty for your own good, ya know that, right?” He licks his lips, still tasting your slick and your kisses, and adjusts your clothes for the last time. ”It’s not my fault I’m thinkin’ about you all the time.”
The last part comes out lower—shy, almost—and he runs his fingers through his hair. “Foolish human,”
You draw him in for another kiss, arching into him again, and he groans, deepening the kiss and pushing you against the wall this time. You gasp, especially when his hand sneaks down to cup your sticky cunt again, and you push at his chest.
“Mams”, you say, and he kisses your neck, nibbling on the skin.
“Yeah?” he hums.
“If you’re gonna fuck me again, at least take me home first.”
He pulls away instantly, eyes gleaming with greed, smiling at you eagerly. “You wanna go again?”
“Only if you take me back to House of Lamentation,”
He whines, nuzzling into your neck, before pulling away completely. You lean against the bathroom wall, smiling at him, tilting your head to the side.
“I might even ride you if you promise to behave.”
Mammon stops in his tracks, jaw nearly dropping to the floor. In a flash, you’re thrown over his shoulder, and Mammon is carrying you down the halls of RAD so quickly that everything is passing by in a flash. There’s a particular flash of black and red, the echo of a long sigh, and you giggle while clinging to Mammon as he speeds up even more.
“Lucifer is gonna kill you when he comes home tonight,” you laugh, and your boyfriend groans loudly.
“Please don’t mention him right now. I’m planning at least four rounds before anyone else gets home.”
hi i got possessed by the need for desperate sex with whiny mammon. ily.
Hellooo! Let me just say that I love your writing, especially the NSFW alphabets they're the BEST thing I've ever read. May I request an nsfw alphabet for Mammon, if you haven't done it already? Thank you 💓
⛓️Mammon NSFW Alphabet⛓️
Thank you so much! I do enjoy writing for Mammon a lot, so writing his alphabet was one of my favourites! I might've gotten carried away with this one (ᵕ—ᴗ—) | MDNI!
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CW: light bondage, spanking, softdom!Mammon, needy!Mammon, scent kink, praise kink, public sex, aphrodisiac mention, overstimulation, edging, dry humping, phone sex, improper use of pact
──────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────────────
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
$ Mammon does know what aftercare is and how to give it, he can just get pretty shy and a little self-conscious afterwards, worried you weren't satisfied or he messed something up unknowingly.
$ He's extremely quick to grab what you ask for, though. Like a towel to clean the two of you up or if you just want him to hug you. One thing that he CAN do well is make the perfect instant noodles, so he sits you somewhere and has you wait while he prepares the food, knowing food is a good way to make someone feel better.
$ If he's subbing, he tries to act like he's not insanely sore. But he'd be limping and cursing under his breath after every move. Mammon's gonna freak out if you pick him up suddenly or tried to, but he doesn't complain, not after you practically fucked the attitude out of him.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
$ With Mammon being a model, there's not a lot that he doesn't like about himself. He loves his arms and chest, taking any opportunity to flex them on you. He does this in the form of carrying you or picking up something heavy even if you were able to do it on your own.
$ He also likes his hands. They're slightly rough from how much he works out to keep his physique, but they're quite warm and smooth as well. Even in positions where he's ramming you into his mattress, at least one of his hands find their way to hold yours. It's so intimate, which is a huge contrast to the way he's fucking you.
$ On you, he's got to be an ass man. His whole thing is money and another slang for money is booty. He loves it when he's behind you and gets a chance to grip your backside, maybe even spanking you lightly just to watch and hear you yelp.
"Hehe, keep makin' pretty noises for me just like that, MC..."
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
$ No matter what you're doing to him, Mammon is going to cum buckets. He's not exactly touch starved, he's just willing to do just about anything for your hands on him. The guy will end up coating your hand and his pelvis with his cum and if he's being edged enough, he could paint your chest and his as well.
$ It's a creamy white with a silver undertone to it, almost shiny in the light. Mammon tastes on the sweetish salty side since he probably eats his fruits to make sure he tastes good enough for you.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
$ Mammon has a ton of embarrassing secrets he's taking to the grave and would rather get strung to the ceiling for a millennia than admit to them. They could range from wanting you in a rather public place like at a gala taking place in the Demon Lord's castle to stealing your underwear or your shirts after you were out somewhere where you sweated.
$ IF Mammon is needy enough, he'd be willing to tell you how badly he wants you and whisk the two of you away to somewhere more private. One example would be the backseat of his car during a party where the two of you had to dance so closely that you could feel each other's body heat.
$ One thing he might not want to say out loud is that he loves parading you around the house wearing his clothes as it fuels his sin deeply. You're wearing his shirt and pants that are covered in his scent, letting the other occupants of the household know you belong to him and him only.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
$ Mammon might've only had a few one night stands and hasn't felt a very strong attachment to them since it was more of just blowing off steam for him. Like something that would satiate his greed or at least tide him over. He still sells things and gambles for the biggest rush, though.
$ When you do it with him for the first time, he acts like it's his first time ever, which is pretty adorable. Mammon is constantly asking if you're okay and what he's doing is making you feel good.
$ I think Mammon would be pretty confident with his mouth, though. It's mostly just his sin taking over, wanting to hear more of your voice crying out his name. He quite literally can't get enough, being obsessed with the way your back arches against the surface beneath you.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
$ Doggy style is definitely one of his favourites. He gets his favourite view of your ass and it gets him so aroused whenever he gets to spank you. Another thing he likes to do his rake his nails down your back, watching you tense up and gasp.
$ Missionary is classic but Mammon's such a sucker for it. His hips have lost their rhythm multiple times as he gets distracted by your eyes rolling back in pleasure.
$ He likes it when he's sitting in the driver's seat of the car and you're going down on him. He's cursing silently and grasping you with a surprisingly gentle grip. Mammon lets out slightly quieter moans and murmurs praise that almost immediately get cut off by a small whimper.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
$ Mammon tries to be serious, especially in genuine, vulnerable moments. It works more once you two are actually doing it as he gets incredibly awkward trying to initiate any physical contact past hand holding.
$ If you were feeling insecure about something or shy/nervous, Mammon has no problem cracking a couple jokes and giggling at little mistakes to let you know you're all good. His laugh is genuine, but his eyes keep track of every little expression you make, making sure you're not comfortable or hurting anywhere.
"Heh. You're too hot to be worryin' about somethin' small like that."
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
$ The carpet does match the drapes and he's the type to trim it only when he's doing a particularly erotic photoshoot. You're the first to know and see what he looks down there as well.
$ Most times though, he's satisfied with letting it grow since he knows it's not gonna affect his performance at all. That being said, he does not care what you decide to do down there as well. Mammon is perfectly content as long as you let him go down on you.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
$ Mammon's surprisingly good at the romantic aspect the more you do it. He likes to set the mood beforehand by lighting candles and scattering petals of your favourite flower around the floor of the bed. He also makes sure to wear the cologne you like best on him.
$ He's still very shy, though. It'll take a bit for him to get used to taking it slow since he's terrified of doing something that turns you off, or even hurt you in worse cases.
$ A lot of his attempts to be intimate are almost all subconscious. He makes intense eye contact and finds a way to hold your hand in any position, no matter how uncomfortable it might be.
"Yer so precious to me, MC. I- I don't wanna mess this up. I really love ya, y'know?"
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
$ Yeah, he's pent up like crazy. Not only that, but he's also very easy to turn on. He usually hides away in his bedroom, pretending his hands were yours. Mammon would imagine how exactly you'd tease him, sometimes with a firm grip or light teases to the tip of his cock. Sometimes he squeezes his balls too, just to feel that sensitive rush that courses through him.
$ He likes to pull up a photo of you or bury his nose in your underwear, getting drunk off of your scent. He's prone to overstimulating himself like this too, it's just so much that he can't handle it, but he can't stop either. He even cries out into his pillow wishing you were there for him.
$ When Mammon is feeling particularly brave, he might even jerk off in your room, knowing you could walk in at any moment, which means you can help him out. There are times where you might've seen him grinding against your pillow or sheets...
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
$ Mammon likes the risk and thrill of public sex. Especially in places where he has to be on his best behaviour. It'd be during one of Lord Diavolo's parties where he'd hide you two in one of the bathrooms or even sneak outside to push you up against one of the walls.
$ Praise kink praise kink praise kink. It's practically canon that he prefers getting praised over being degraded. Mammon loves when you grip his hair while he's going down on you and gasping out every kind of praise. In return, he showers you with compliments, whether it's how good you're being or how hot you look.
$ Light bondage. He's not into the hardcore stuff, especially not the sadistic stuff that leaves serious bruises. But he's willing to tie your wrists or have you tie his, the frustration of not being able to touch you arousing him further. Mammon is such a good beggar though that it requires a LOT of willpower not to untie him.
$ Spanking. Or a little impact play. He's entranced by your body reacts and how your skin feels every time his hand makes contact with your ass. He loves it when you treat him the same way too, so bend him over and spank him harder than how he spanks you and he's cumming almost instantly.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
$ His car, bedroom, or whichever place he owns as it's the most covered in his scent. Mammon prefers these places since it gets you smelling like him the most. There are times where he bends you over his pool table or his coffee table, which are in the middle of his room. There's almost no shame when it comes to him and his desire for you.
$ A casino is also a place he enjoys a lot. There's something about being somewhere that fuels greed and lust that gets him so worked up that he almost forgets about the money he's spending that night.
$ In the casino, Mammon likes those private rooms or bathrooms to fuck you, murmuring in your ear that you're his good luck charm.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
$ Compliments. Mammon instantly folds when you praise his talents or appearance. Of course, he doesn't know how to properly accept the praise so he often says some cocky one-liner while blushing furiously. If you're lucky, you get to see him readjusting his pants as well.
$ When you're being straightforward or confident in general. He gets very proud seeing you stand up for yourself or ask for what you want right away. It draws him in even more to the point where he's willing to do anything for you.
$ You wearing his clothes also riles him up insanely fast. Mammon gets so possessive that he almost takes you where you're standing, not even caring if the others are in the room as well. He'll hint to you that he wants you two in a bedroom where he can further appreciate your attire. His hand is on your thigh and he's always leaning in close enough for you to feel his warm breath.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
$ As stated before, nothing that can cause too much pain. Spanking with bare hands would be the line he draws. A little bondage that can have your muscles aching by the end of it is fine, too.
$ Degradation. It makes Mammon feel more awful than turned on. He's already too aware of what he is to everyone else and doesn't want to hear those words or similar ones coming from the one he loves.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
$ As much as he's addicted to the feeling of your mouth and hands on his cock, Mammon prefers to get drunk and obsessed with the way you taste. It also gives him an opportunity to get manhandled by you. He practically begs for you to sit on his face so he isn't tempted to pull away for air.
$ Mammon would also be willing to go down on his knees anywhere just to get a taste of you. He doesn't care about knee pain, only if he's making you feel good.
$ He does like when you blow him in the driver's seat or backseat. He gets so easily turned on seeing your eyes water slightly and your eyebrows furrow in concentration as you try to take him down your throat.
"Shit, your lips look so good wrapped around my cock, hnnngh..."
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
$ Mammon likes to take it deep and slow at first if he's able to take his time. But he often ends up speeding up the pace to chase his release, which is very quick. But his moans are so cute and he's so desperate to cum, so it's nearly impossible to get upset with him.
$ If there's no time for a whole session or he's been unusually upset about something for a while, he's going to be a bit rougher and even using his teeth and nails to mark you up.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
$ Mammon likes them. And with his high libido, they're pretty often. Most often during a break in the middle of a photoshoot or in the changeroom at Majolish. He also has a certain affinity for doing it in the RAD closets or bathrooms. The risk is what turns him on.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
$ Public places are usually the kind of risks Mammon likes to take. The higher chance of him being caught, the better. Plus, he has such a dumb smirk on his face when you two exit the premises and you're covered in his hickeys for others to see. He gets shyer if you marked him up as well, so it's not a bad idea to reciprocate.
$ Mammon's also the type to try something once before deciding if he likes it or not. He's willing to test different positions or use different toys, but he's quick to develop a preference for certain things.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
$ The guy works out and he's the second strongest, the only problem is that he's so touch starved and desperate for you that he ends up lasting shorter than what he'd hoped. I'd say a good 5-6 minutes if he really needs to cum, but could go on closer to ten minutes if he really tries.
$ As long as you give him some recovery time, Mammon can go quite a few rounds, actually. Sometimes, he'll last longer each round as he gets used to the amount of energy he needs to expend to last even further.
$ If Mammon's subbing, he'd want to go on for as long as you can if he couldn't pass out from exhaustion. However, since he's not doing much of the work, he can last much longer. You would probably tap out quicker than him if he's on the bottom.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
$ I think Mammon would enjoy using toys on either of you. He'd like things like vibrators or nipple clamps as it can mix pleasure and pain, but not as strongly as other toys might do it.
$ Combine those toys with bondage and it'll drive him insane, it'll have Mammon crying out of pleasure if that combo was used on him.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
$ Mammon can be really good at teasing. In the beginning, at least. He whispers such dirty things that send shivers up your spine, but he starts losing control when he actually enters you and he has to resist the urge to cum right there on the spot.
$ He'd like it a lot if you teased him, instead. It gets him all cute and frustrated whenever you deny him yet another orgasm. He begs so much and you have to hold his hips down to stop him from thrashing in desperation.
" 's not faiiir, MC! I wanna cum! P-Please lemme cum, I'll do anythin' ya want!"
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
$ LOUD. No matter how much he tries, he's sobbing into your shoulder about how good you feel. Doesn't matter if he's domming or subbing. Sometimes you'll have to gag him to shut him up. At times, he'll end up drooling on whatever you gagged him with, anyways.
$ Even if he's domming, he's whimpering, whining, gasping, even gasping for more. Mammon even ends up rambling a lot as well, always murmuring praise or dirty talk.
$ He begs so nicely whenever you edge him or overstimulate him. It almost makes you jealous how easy it is for him to give up on his pride so he can make a mess in his own lap. Oh, and he's thanking you profusely when he gets to cum.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
$ After the initial incident with the Gold Hellfire Newt Syrup, he bought more for himself because it only enhances the immensely strong feelings he has for you. Plus, the fact that you're the only one who can remove the effects makes him so happy.
$ He'd want you to use the pact powers on him, whether it's to make him cum or to hold back. When he's actually inside you, the effects of the syrup would've subsided by then, but he still fucks you like he's still under its influence.
$ Mammon would have a playlist dedicated for making love with you.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
$ Mammon's most likely on the bigger side, curving slightly to the left and his tip is a bit lighter than the rest of the shaft. It twitches like crazy when he's going to cum. So if he's overstimulated, he's cumming all over himself while his dick twitches.
$ He likes it when you put pressure on the underside of his tip or if you suck on it hard, it gets him so quick to climax.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
$ He's ready for you 24/7. He's up in your ear at all times and whining for you to touch him. It's adorable how pathetic he is. Everything about you drives him crazy and he'll do anything to feel you and your warmth in a more intimate setting.
$ Sometimes, he's grinding against your backside and breathing heavily in your ear while you're doing something. You'd have to tell him to be very patient or tide himself over by touching himself, to which he groans but does so anyways, making sure you're getting a good show.
$ During the unfortunate times you're in the human realm, Mammon's calling you nearly every day, nearly every call turning into phone sex each time. Hearing his breathless whimpers and declarations of love are enough to make you abandon everything and come back home in his arms.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
$ Mammon falls asleep pretty quick, but he makes sure you're feeling okay and clean before passing out. If you wanted him to stay up a bit longer, he can do that, but he'd be yawning the entire time and slurring his words. Sometimes he nods along at whatever you say and if you questioned him, he just agrees with everything and kisses your forehead.
(im actually so tired of them making him gray, it cannot be that hard to give him some color.)
but anyway, they're making a visual novel for luci.. instead of focusing on IDO... ill never complain about more mammon and brothers content, and a visual novel sounds super cool, especially if every brother is going to get their own, but they like, just released IDO four months ago and are already focusing on other projects instead of working on it. i hope they arent planning to abandon it already..
