deliverusfromevillll

[deliverusfromevillll]

Formerly Yours [Adam/F!Reader] [01]

❝ Wow babe, you really make it sound like you care about me. ❞

warnings ⨾ angst, miscommunication, eating disorders, self neglect, swearing, pinning, no beta we die like adam

terms ⨾ ❝ Powers ❞ In biblical terms, those who assist in governing the natural order.

notes  ⨾ I intend on making this a long series, as I've been hyperfixated on this character for a stupid long time and have created an OC and commissioned artwork of future scenes. If you would like to be part of the process ( as I am currently looking for beta readers ) and/or generally would like to see WIPs feel free to join my discord ( NgT88bybyY ).

[01] [02] [03] [04]

As always minors DNI.| 3.8K words

"FUCK!"

[F/n] recoils, frantically waving and flicking her hand as a burst of steam emerged from the box at her desk. She blows cool air on her exposed fingers, sighing as she tore off the damaged glove.

Despite the shock of energy, she quickly ignores her own pain as her project seemed to have been a success.

The translucent cube radiated a bright yellow at every edge, keeping a clear see-through surface otherwise. Her heart raced, eyebrows raised, as she ogled it further.

Reaching for it confidently, she plucks it, watching the yellow edges reverberate at her touch.

Awe-struck by her success, her features immediately shift into a smirk.

Sera would be pleased.

She sets it back down on her workbench, scooting her chair back. [F/n] opens a drawer, fishing for a new glove among the unorganized mess.

It takes a second but she gets it, fanning out the article before replacing it over her hand. Turning back towards the cube, she cups it under her palms.

She sits up straight, inhaling deeply, eyes flutter shut as she did her best to concentrate. Her celestial magic resonated with the cube, steadily shifting from the gold color to a cool silver.

The next step was extremely precise, she must focus.

"[F/N]—!"

[F/n] jolts, knees hitting the desk. The cube jutted a few increments away, returning to the gold color it was before.

"—My favorite person! Man you're great, so fucking great I know you can quit whatever the fuck you're doing and fix my guitar string right now!"

The panic on her expression grew as she looked over the box, groaning audibly as she rotated to glare at Adam.

"Adam how many times have I told you not to come in my lab immediately screaming my name?!"

"Oh come on Karen, you know I'm the only exciting thing going on in your life. You can stop pretending like you hate me now."

Adam huffs and crosses his arms, looking away aimlessly. His eyes dart back to her then away again after realizing she was staring at him completely unconvinced.

[F/n] sighed.

Getting up, she waves Adam over as she moves towards the open space next to her. Adam grins, offering her his guitar as she mounts it horizontally on a latch installed specifically for his guitar.

"How the fuck did you even break it this time?"

She asks, opening another unsorted drawer and pulling out a box of guitar strings.

"Uhh, well, while you were busy declining my invitations and being a huge lame nerd: I just came back from my kick-ass gig at a party. I went in too hard, y'know what I mean?" He wiggles his eyebrows.

[F/n] absentmindedly lets out an uninterested, "uh huh," at his innuendo.

Adam rolls his eyes, losing interest at her dismissal. He wanders.

She takes a small golden string, weaving it around her fingertips as the broken strings on the guitar reach for the thread. Bringing her hand closer to the guitar, she allows the threads to connect and renew itself using her magic.

Smiling she strums it gently satisfied.

"Alright Adam it's— Adam?" She turns to look where he originally stood, worried when he was no longer there.

"Man what the fuck is this?" He points at the cube, finger dangerously close.

[F/n]'s eyes widen. "DON'T—!" Her wings flutter in panic as she rushed towards him.

Though it was too late. Adam poked the object: It lashed at him in response, absorbing him into the cube in the blink of an eye.

It had shrunken him as well, entrapping him through its see-through walls. Adam pounds at the clear walls, the force reverberating as if it were fluid.

He was shouting. However unable to be heard.

[F/n] groans even louder, face palming as she walks over to pick up the cube. Her brows furrowed, bringing him to eye level.

"You're such a fucking idiot!"

Adam covers his ears at her shouting, sending her the bird in return. He resumes shouting and it translates similarly to the squeak of a mouse. Bringing her ear closer [F/n] could make out two words; "warned" and "me."

Setting him back down in the table [F/n] plants her face into her palms. She's not sure whether she should prepare dying a second time or what, but an epiphany comes to her.

"No, hold on, maybe this can be a good thing."

Adam rolls his eyes, crossing his arms.

"I wasn't anticipating something like this so I don't know how to break you out just yet. After I figure it out we wont have to worry about something stupid like this again."

She could feel the hairs on her neck stand, swiping off a bead of sweat as she nervously reinspects their current predicament.

There was no telling how long it could take to bust him out.

The cube's golden color was replaced with a wine red.

"At least it works."

[F/n] laughs nervously to herself.

Adam walks up the the wall, seemingly charging up his swing as his knuckles crash into the barrier. He quickly loses the grip on his fist, shaking off the pain. His other hand comes to soothe his knuckles.

"Oh, your magic is completely snuffed in this thing."

He groaned, though the sound was once again absorbed.

"This is supposed to be a prototype to capture powerful entities but in its current state I'm the only one who can really touch it; since, well, it's made with my magic." Adam looks up at her with a raised brow.

"...I really have to be ready to present later."

[F/n] kicks herself away from the workbench on her rolling chair, shifting through a few test tubes: plucking one.

"You're so fucking annoying, y'know?"

Scooting back towards Adam, she tilts the vile over him slowly.

The silver fluid shimmered through the glass, gleaming further at the angle it was leaning towards. A small drop falls, landing on top of the box. It get absorbed quickly. The red hue pulsated as it was overridden by the familiar golden color from before.

"This is good..." She mutters.

Adam however kept his displeased expression.

[F/n] swipes another bead of sweat from her forehead as she remounts the test tube on a nearby stand. Cupping around the cube, Adam finally breaks his scowl as he nervously looks up at her and mouths something unintelligable.

"Don't worry, this was the next step before you came and touched things you shouldn't."

It took hours. Hours of incremental progress with no solution in sight.

Adam was still entrapped, [F/n] blinking completely blearily as the overuse of her own abilities finally began crawling up on her.

Strands of [h/c] hair stuck out in random spots.

In the timeframe however, the muffling of his voice became weaker and weaker. "You look like shit." Was something Adam would say often after each failed test.

They had also discovered she was able to teleport items into the block: after accidentally transporting her coat while her connection to the cube was still fresh.

She was able to replicate this using his guitar so he at least had some form of entertainment.

Busy mixing a new concoction, her stomach growled. Adam shifted from his seat against the wall, flapping his wings to help himself quickly stand.

"When are we gonna eat."

"After I get you out."

"But you're hungry, I'm hungry: you feel like shit, I feel like shit— c'mon babe don't fuckin' be difficult."

[F/n] groans, placing down the objects in her hands as she stood up. Alright, one quick meal break, that's it: this asshole wouldn't keep his mouth shut otherwise.

Adam grins as she gently grabbed his container and headed out of her lab. Completely ignoring the stairs under her feet as she flew up and through the open door.

She sets him on the counter nearby her fridge.

Opening the freezer, she yanked out a frozen pizza, setting it beside him. [F/n] begins preheating her oven.

"Oh hell yeah. How'd you know I was in the mood for pizza babe?"

"It's the only thing I have in my fridge."

Adam quirked a brow.

"Only pizza?"

"Only pizza."

There was a pregnant pause.

The sounds of the pizza unboxing and quiet shuffling filled the air for the next several seconds while she placed it on a pan. He was deliberating his next few words.

"You don't cook— or order anything even?"

"I don't have time for it." [F/n] sighed. "My research is more important."

Adam could hardly tell because of her robes, but upon really staring at her he did notice she was becoming thinner than usual. There were dark bags underneath her pearly yellow irises and he'd even notice her slow blinks.

He frowned.

"So what do you eat when you work?"

Now it was her turn to stutter, dropping the pizza into the hot oven a littler harsher than intended. The pan clattered but rested nonetheless.

[F/n] shuts the oven closed as she takes a seat next to the counter.

"I... I don't." She sighed again.

Adam hated that answer.

He secretly assumed so, but pushed in hopes of hearing a different response. It made him feel terrible.

Though he would visit her often he never noticed anything askew. Not until he was forced to just sit and watch. After this he swore he'd double his visits either with grub in hand or to drag her out the lab.

He knew he could talk Sera into forcing her to take a break, maybe then it would incentivize her to be more receptive to his visits.

He failed to understand why she was always breathing down her neck, but when he'd ask he would always be met with a nonanswer. 

Adam stood up and walked towards the closest edge to her.

"I need to get you out the of the lab more often, doing this shit all day fucking sucks." Adam stated.

[F/n] cocked her head at him, running a hand through her messy [h/c] hair.

"That'd only set me back on my work."

"Well fuck— then I can drop by and help out or something."

She tried to stifle a laugh. Her attempt didn't go unnoticed. "You serious? Your definition of helping out is messing with all my shit, what makes you think I'd want your help?"

She quirked, picking up the box and brought him to eye level. "Yeah, I'm..."

Adam's stoic expression became sullen in a way he appeared nearly defeated.

It was so odd to see someone with such a huge ego begin to crumble at the idea of rejection.

Adam was someone who can easily fill his schedule, it's not like he needed [F/n] to keep him occupied neither her approval, so: "why did it matter?"

He had Lute in his corner, his band, groupies, friends. Was this pity? It had to be, or maybe some sort of leftover obligation he'd mustered up in his head since she had previously held the title as his best friend: or in his terms his number one bitch.

Times change everywhere, heaven included, there was just no room for leisurely things anymore. 

"I'm... Glad? I'm glad! For, uhh, the offer. Maybe we can after I get done with this you can h—."

It was as if a firework went off in his head. "Fuck yeah! I knew you couldn't say no to me bitch!" He strummed his guitar in excitement.

[F/n] cracked into a smile. She watched in amusement as he strummed a quick verse: immediately perking and repeating the verse.

"You just gave me the best idea for a new song!"

His guitar sings the tune he played beautifully. Adam flaps his wings, kiting around what little space he had in rhythm to his own music methodically.

Her golden irises stare at him almost in awe. He looked akin to one of those wind-up music boxes.

It was cute.

He was cute.

Then it dawned on her. This wasn't a visual she should have, nor a thought she should imagine. Adam wasn't even supposed to be encased in her snare in the first place.

[F/n] sets him down carefully in embarrassment.

Her thoughts interrupted as the oven chimed in, and she shifted to pull it open. With the wave of her fingers, the pan floats out of the oven and sits on top of the stove.

She wills a pizza cutter, manifesting it out of thin air. It radiates a gentle yellow, rolling over the pizza and cutting it into equal slices.

"Guitar sol— OW! FUCK!"

[F/n] flinched, pizza cutter rolling over incorrectly as her magic stuttered. She turns around, blinking.

"Uhh?"

Adam stood before her, ripping his mask and glove off to pop his finger in his mouth. No longer in the confinement of the cube, he looks up at her before realizing he was now free.

"What the hell happened?" [F/n] asked in clear confusing.

Adam muffled. "I fuckin' cut myself rocking out too hard." He takes his finger out of his mouth, a small dribble of golden ichor coats his finger.

Glancing between him and the box that was now a cool silver. That's all it took. The blood of an angel. He was free.

[F/n] sighed, he really did help solve it after all. She chuckled in disbelief. Adam immediately shot her a look before reminding her of his injury.

"Uhh hello? Still fucking bleeding here." He takes the seat she was on earlier.

"Hold on."

Adam watches her disappear into another room for a minute, reemerging with a medical kit in hand. She sets it next to him, unzipping the material before pulling out some of the contents.

A bandage, cotton balls, and a black bottle with "Hydrogen Peroxide" in large white letters.

"Is the peroxide really necessary? I-I mean it's a small cut!" Adam huffed, looking worried as his eyes met hers.

[F/n] sits down beside him, extending her wing to blanket him comfortingly while she dabbled a cotton ball into the liquid. "Lord knows how much sinner remnants or mystery fluids are still on your guitar, when's the last time you properly cleaned it?" 

His feathers brushed against her own causing him to shiver internally. It was like a spark shot through his spine. Adam relaxed for a moment against her warmth.

"Uhh, like, a week? I dunno."

She mumbled. "That can get infected. I'm not risking that."

"Wow babe, you really make it sound like you care about me." Adam grinned.

"It's cause I do."

His grin shrunk slightly, taken aback at how she admitted it so easily.

Despite all the years together where their friendship mainly consisted of him either teasing or irritating her, he fully expected to hear a "no" or anything of the sort.

Adam felt chest tighten.

Then he hissed.

The cotton gently being pressed against his open cut made the pain worse tenfold. No pain compared to that of rubbing alcohol.

He didn't even notice her taking his hand among his thoughts. Though still in pain, he could feel her small hands cup his large one.

"Who knew a bit of angel blood was all this thing fucking needed? Man I feel so stupid now." [F/n] mutters mostly to herself, but Adam still heard through coping with own pain.

"Y-Yeah, you're welcome." Adam forced a grin.

She had removed her lab gloves during the process. He was able to feel her skin on his, the first thought he had being how soft her skin felt. Her hands were so much smaller compared to his own.

Her touch was so gentle.

Even when she was wrapping the bandage around his finger she treated him so carefully as if he were some delicate thing. It felt so nurturing. Loving almost. It made him smile.

"There, better?"

Adam looks at the bandage that had yellow star prints among space. Of course she'd own this over regular skin-toned bandages. He smiled, quietly chuckling.

"Yeah. Thanks babe."

[F/n] smiles, clearing her throat as she teleported the pizza before them. She picks up a slice, taking a small bite to answer her growling stomach.

"Man this isn't so bad."

Adam does the same, taking a chunk into his mouth.

He chews for a moment before tensing, side-eyeing her to watch as she pulled it back to her mouth for another bite. His hand reaches out to stop her arm from bringing the damned thing close enough to her lips.

He spits the chunk out of his mouth.

"Are you fucking insane? This tastes like shit!" He corrected. "You can taste how aged this garbage is! How long did you keep this for?"

Adam stands, placing the slice back on the pan before turning towards her fridge. He yanks it open.

His eyes are met with nothing more than a few bottles of water, most of them were open and at various levels. Opening the freezer wasn't any better. There sat but a single pint of french vanilla ice cream.

"I told you." [F/n] shrugs.

He turns to [F/n].

"I'm ordering us some real food."

"Seriously though, but I'm telling ya, the look on her stupid fucking face when I told her the extermination date was cut to six months was everything!" Adam laughed in between bites. 

"And —oh fuck— get this: she tried to imply they don't deserve death— that they could ascend and cross those pearly gates! HAHA! Can you believe it?" 

He extended a wing out, coiling around her like a large blanket as he nudged her closer to him on the couch. The tv playing in the background filled the silence in between pauses. 

"It's so hilariously pathetic!"

[F/n] nodded along with him, nervously laughing.

She hid the straight line on her lips.

"See? Better right?" Adam grins as he bit into the meat-lover styled pizza. [F/n] nods in content as she popped the final bite of her slice into her mouth. She hummed in delight. 

She was accustomed to mainly eating frozen foods, eating was mostly an afterthought, especially as of recent, so admittedly there were days she either completely forgot or was too spent to even bother.

There was something really endearing about the idea Adam would still go out of his way to do this, considering he could've literally just left after he was freed.

[F/n] sinks into his wing, feeling her feathers ruffle against his. He was warm, very, very warm. She felt slightly guilty accepting his comfort.

"I'm surprised you didn't immediately bounce after you got out." [F/n] admits. 

Adam side-eyes her before turning to face her. "Why would I? I'm exhausted and starving."

She rolled her eyes, lightly elbowing him. Adam glances towards the open box then back at his piece. "I mean shit, did you even eat more than a slice?"

"I don't see how this matters?"

"Yeah how about you let me decide what I wanna fucking worry about or not nerdy-tits, got it? Thanks now open up." 

Adam hovers his already bitten piece before her lips, giving her an encouraging nudge as she blushed. She paused in embarrassment. [F/n] huffed, swallowing her pride with a bite of his slice.

"His lips were on it..." She thinks to herself, watching the satisfied smile on his expression grow before being hidden as he takes his last bite, tossing the crust back onto the box among the other uneaten slices.

"Was that so hard?" He asks with a mouthful.

"Y'know, sugar-tits, you seriously don't have to be locked in your lab all day. You're too hot for shit like that."

"So you want me to leave my work for what— to be your fucking mindless groupie instead?"

They both look at each other. [F/n] more shocked than anything as the words just left her tongue with no prior thought. Her response came off harsher than intended. 

Was that really how she felt?

She knew Adam was popular among women, he was the first man after all, self proclaimed "dick master" before all. It never bothered her before, well, not the the extent where she outwardly lashed at him. 

Even if she did feel as though he replaced her, she never faulted him for it no matter how it pained her.

[F/n] never wanted to acknowledge the emotion because it would only materialize further, and realizing she did exactly that annoyed her.

He was nice to her, cared and fed her, this seemed unnecessarily hostile and out of left field. 

"Sorry." She sighed, rubbing her eyes. 

That's what it was, exhaustion. 

After leaving the lab she didn't notice it until she properly sat down but she has been feeling the weight of her work this entire time. The stress of it, and the labor. All this among Adam coming in readily available to create a larger mess.

"Geez babe, didn't take you for the jealous type."

"I am not jealous, just tired."

"Lying is a sin y'know."

"I'm not LYING!"

She'd gotten up, leaving the warmth of his wings. [F/n] walked over to the sliding door connected to the room, nearly ripping it open. She had sucked in an exasperated breath.

Enough of this nonsense. 

Her brows knit together. "You need to leave, now." She muttered loud enough for him to hear, head pointed over her shoulder to look at him.

"What? Why? Because I teased you?!"

[F/n] rolls her eyes. "I need to keep working without you barreling into my lab preferably this time."

Adam shot up, shoving his mask on as he'd stomp over at her. He'd wave both his hands outwards, face wrinkling in frustration. "What's got you on your period? You were never like this in the past!"

There was that word. The past. She hated it.

This was childish, a thing of history, not the person who she was now.

Her job was important, far too important. It angered her she'd allow herself to be lured out like this. Heaven's work was more urgent than whatever residual sentiment existed between them. 

"I said get the fuck out!"

[F/n] had shoved him to the other side of the wall, despite his protests.

The clear door rattled as it closed in the middle of them, locking itself with magic.

Adam stares at her through the glass, eyes wide and with some level of shock or anger, or perhaps even both, but she couldn't decipher all that well and honestly didn't want to.

[F/n] holds his stare looking distant. Her lips creased.

It's difficult to do this, but this was faster than dragging it out. She could only hope one day he'd come to appreciate or gain some level of understanding why this turned out the way it did. 

For now, no matter her feelings, this was easier than explaining.

[deliverusfromevillll]

A Sticky Situation [Mammon/F!Reader] [Prologue]

❝ It's about time we get some fuckin' cunt worth her tits in this place. ❞

warnings ⨾ blood, violence, swearing, arachnophobia (the irony x3), minor character death, loss and grieving, angst, unresolved angst, OCs used, fire, reader has ptsd, mentions and descriptions of war, no beta we die like adam

terms ⨾ ❝ Drakon ❞ the Latin word meaning "dragon."

notes  ⨾ Since I had like 10k words from a bunch of drafts + the 7k I'd cut from the first chapter I decided to use some of it to create a prologue to hopefully tie up some loose ends for y'all. Not to mention some of the people from AO3 asking for another part. Hope you enjoy! If you would like to be part of the process in between me brainstorming and posting ( as I am currently looking for beta readers ) and/or generally would like to see WIPs feel free to join my discord ( NgT88bybyY ).

[01] [02]

As always minors DNI.| 6.8K words

What is a knight left with when she retires?

An honored title with trauma. That's what. One she agreed to, ignorantly, and learned to accept as there wasn't much of an option behind it to start off with anyway.

She believed it a waste to let her emotions consume her over something she cannot change.

It's how she coped with it.

Not that it was healthy by any means but there was a level of solace found in just being matter of fact about it. Acting indifferently.

What was done, was done, and that was that.

That was honestly to be expected after everything.

The agreement to give your life in exchange to potentially save others regardless of how they treated her prior, during, or then. It was a heavy thought to carry, and even heavier on her shoulders.

Literally.

The medallion glimmered in reflection to the moonlight. Its representation was nothing more than a bitter reminder, a band-aid, an apology.

"I take it you aren't enjoying your celebration."

She swallows dryly, unmoving, as her slumped figure continues to look aimlessly at the starry sky. An elbow resting on the balcony as the other half hug off it. There's no response.

Small taps erase the ambiance as talons move to come closer.

"I'd understand, I wish I could... Lord I wish I could make this easier on you somehow."

The owl manages a brief glance from her as he studies her expression. His hands lay rest as well on the railing of the balcony, standing tall with gaze pointed in the same direction as hers towards the sky.

"I thought you wouldn't notice me missing to be honest."

"Ah, darling, don't say that." The owl retorts. "It'd be impossible not to. You're Hell's grand valiant hero after all." He teased.

[F/n] rolls her eyes.

They remain this way for a moment.

A cold, gentle, breeze runs through them. It was somber but not awkward. Dozens of thoughts running through both their minds. There are some things she wished to say, but could not find the courage to outright say it.

"Jerevicius." She sighed.

The owl hums in response.

"My people. They're..."

"I know darling, I'm sorry." He inched closer, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"I saw them, all of them. My students, friends, even the people who I thought were untouchable— they just fucking died. And everyone moved on like they didn't exist."

[F/n] looks over at the owl, tears welling in the corners of her eyes as she recounted the memories that plagued her mind like a horror scene.

Her figure trembled before him, unable to mask her frown with her cracking voice.

"They weren't even worth a goddamn grave! Not a hole in the fucking DIRT!"

She grasps the golden token that hung at her neck, tearing the ribbon off as if it seared her skin like a virus.

[F/n] launches it off the balcony.

"And all Paimon could do for us was give us his fucking POCKET CHAAANGE?!"

Jerevicius watches as the medallion falls into the large fountain before his abode. Water splashing powerfully then calming quickly as it was washed away to resumed its prior current.

A loud sob follows.

She crashed down to her knees, whimpering various of names. Those who'd perish in the war. Forgotten so unfairly and left behind with nothing to even remember or honor them by.

Jerevicius kneeled, scooping [F/n] onto his chest. He hugged her as she cried into his white dress shirt, taking a fistful of the fabric.

The owl frowned sympathetically, feeling rather helpless in the situation.

There was nothing he could really do or say to make any of it better. He knew it was unfair and cursed Paimon under his breath as he did nothing but cowardly hide away in his quarters during the heat of war.

He didn't know how to break the news to her after meeting with the other Ars Goetias to assess the full extent of the damage just days prior. It was just so bleak.

Drakons were left considered endangered. It was agreed upon to forcefully retire what remained of them so that they may repopulate.

The survivors would be used to pass on their battle knowledge and teach the next generation of soldiers to come, which would likely be imps considering their surplus, but as of now no one was in any rush to do much of anything.

Jerevicius looks down at her, petting her hair before folding an arm at the bend of her legs to cradle her into his chest. He stands. [F/n] draped her wings over her body like a blanket, tail coiling around the wrist that supported her to his feathered image.

"I have something to show you dear."

His shadow rises from the ground and swallows them: leaving nothing but a teal colored feather behind privy to where he stood. When they were spat back out the cool air from before was no longer there, replaced with the warmth of his corridors.

"I was going to show this to you later on since it isn't finished right now but, well, now is a good time as any."

He gives her leg a reassuring squeeze.

[F/n] hesitantly lets go of his shirt to look at what he was gesturing towards.

There were carved faces of stone atop of pillars that surrounded the entire room: dozens of paintings on the walls with a large statue residing in the center.

True to his words the room was unfinished, but the general idea was there.

She recognized the faces. All of them.

[F/n] slinked out of his grasp to take a closer look at what was done.

"I know this won't fix everything, but I do hope it's a step in the right direction."

The Drakon studies each of the faces, remembering the characters behind all.

The cheerful, hopeful, intelligent, cynical, loyal, funny, sweet, cold, cunning; experienced and inexperienced; the young and the old. Taken by monsters who'd never even knew them.

All the owners of these various features, gone, a wisp in the wind. But not forgotten.

[F/n] looks over at the owl with newfound tears glossing over her eyes. He smiled sadly, looking over at the statue.

"I intend on giving access to what remains of your race to this place once it's done. I do hope the statue is to your fancy darling."

There sat tall a dragon with its head down, wings extended, as one of its claws rested atop an exorcist mask.

She recognized it as her morphed self through watery vision.

"I-I don't even know what to say."

"There isn't much to say, really."

Her eyes retreat back towards the art. She drags the fabric of her sleeve over her eyes with a sniffle. The owl walks over, removing the long feathery scarf from his neck to plop it around hers.

"I'll leave you to mourn in peace, we will talk in the morning."

Jerevicius glances at the time on his silver pocket watch before stuffing it back into his dress pants. He pauses for a moment to see if she held a final comment, turning away and disappearing back into his shadow when he was met with nothing.

He appears back in the ballroom, a sigh leaving his mouth.

The passive idle chatter meet his ears, a cup of wine making way in between his fingers as a butler imp strolls by. Jerevicius struts forward swishing the drink in its container.

"By the look of your face I guess it didn't go so well, did it?"

"She is, ah... It's... Complicated."

Stolas meets him halfway, head tilted with his tail feathers just barely hovering over the ground.

"I just don't know how to break the news, I don't think she has any fight left. I-I don't wanna make it worse."

Stolas hooks an arm around Jerevicius' shoulders, pulling him further from the crowd of birds. His eyes skim over the attendees. They stop at a quiet corner.

"Perhaps you won't need to."

"What do you mean?"

"There's a loophole in the rule."

"What?"

"My father— he worded the script quite terribly. It's only a draft so I'd have to check again later when it's posted, but yes."

"No shit?"

"My father is too ego driven to have people look over his work in progresses. I can't promise for certainty but I will say it's possible."

"So... Why are we here again?"

"Because you're good with security, plus I'm sure you'd rather be elsewhere than continue working for Paimon."

[F/n] groans at the name, arms crossed.

"I pulled a lot of favors to do this for you, y'know. You can't ever say I don't care about your temperamental ass."

The owl looks down at her, readjusting the suspenders over his shoulder as he does his best to make himself look less like a mess.

[F/n] chuckles. "The thought never even crossed my mind once."

Jerevicius shuffles to [F/n], kneeling before her as he pulled out the wrinkles as best he could on her attire, fixing what he thought was even incrementally out of place. Her tail wags behind her confidentially, arms spread slightly to make it easier for him.

"You need to listen to me, okay? Mammon isn't pleasant to be around or even work for but as long as you just remain quiet and in the background you won't have to worry about that asshole. Swear it to me you'll do your best to be a ghost." He explained.

The teal bird glances nervously over at the large sigil glowing at the gate.

"I survived war; I can survive this."

"You're now seen a descendant of royalty. You're a Drakon, as well as a knight at that. This is different." He'd retort.

"You'll stick out like a sore thumb. People will come up to you. Don't answer questions you don't need to and try to stay clear of the big guy himself when he throws his hourly bitch fit. Avoid Mammon at all costs. You are just a security guard and security guards don't talk."

The owl fishes for something in his pockets, pulling out a brooch. It was a tiny aquamarine crested in silver that took shape of a spider. He clips it hastily on her collared shirt.

"I can't be there or watch over you if this goes wrong, okay. There's a trigger under the stone that will alert me you need help I swear I'll come as fast as I p—"

"Jere you're acting like an overprotective parent. Just trust me to handle myself, okay?"

He sighed, standing. There was no doubt in his mind she'd be able to manage: but it was never those you trusted you had to worry about, it was the others.

Jerevicius runs a hand through the feathers at his head then does his best to muster up a smile appropriately for her.

"You're right, drat, I'm sorry."

Their attention snaps as the sound of shattering glass rings loudly followed by a deafening yell. An imp was flung out a third-story window, flailing helplessly as he stamped onto the ground with an ugly splat.

They both quickly glanced at each other than back at the twitching imp. There's no way it lived.

"I think that's my sign to go inside."

Jerevicius' stare returns. "It's not too late to change your mind!"

"Totally leaving now dude." [F/n] pushes open the gate slightly, watching the sigil glow vibrantly as it was touched before dulling. The gate shuts behind her creaking slightly.

"I'll talk to you again when I'm situated!"

[F/n] shares a final passing glance accompanied with a short wave towards her now ex prince.

The owl grits his beak, watching her silhouette leave his side to follow the stairs leading to the front entrance. He returns her wave despite her not seeing it.

"Hope you know what you're doing..."

Another sigh escapes his throat, bowing just for a second as he vanished into a lot of shadowy feathers.

[F/n] attempts to push the doors open only for them not to budge.

A sensor goes off and a staticky beep erupts from an intercom in the wall she had missed. "State your name and business." It cracks.

"[F/n] [L/n] and I work h—"

The door scoots open, female imp grasping her arm with a firm tug inside. It catches her off-guard for no more than a millisecond, deciding to go along with it instead of protesting. The girl pressed the door shut using most of her bodyweight, panting.

"Kn-Knight [L/n]! Oh sweet Lucifer— I'm so glad I didn't miss you. M-Mammon would've really killed me this time."

She smiled, a bead of sweat running down the side of her forehead.

The dragon looked down and up at the imp, then doubletakes.

They were semi deshelled, stray strands of their black hair going in opposing directions with her shirt twisted out of place. He legs wobbled, knees bucking. The imp bows clutching a clipboard to their chest, quickly forcing a nervous laugh.

"I-I'm Amara! It's so nice to meet you." She extends a hand.

[F/n] raises a brow.

She shakes her hand. "You look like a mess."

"Oh man tell me about it! I've been hauling ass all day, now come. Allow me the honors of showing you around! I was instructed to give you a rundown."

The imp grins sheepishly.

[F/n] skims the entrance. It looked similar to that of an office building. There was a front desk with two sharks behind the reception looking bored mindlessly clicking at their keyboards.

They visibly tense as the dragon tracks by them with the imp.

It didn't go unnoticed. [F/n] folded her wings tightly against her back to seem smaller than she was.

The imp word vomits at her as she pulls out a keycard to swipe through a scanner. A chime of acknowledgement dings, elevator opening. She taps a button going on with her speech.

It felt like forever mindlessly walking. 

Room to room, endless corridors with passing employees shooting curious gazes their way. Some making effort to mask it respectfully while others did not.

She felt like an animal following silently. Unable to do anything other than observe with the occasional short comment when her imp guide asked a question. [F/n] wondered how the someone could have so many things to say about virtually nothing.

Gibberish.

A whole lot of gibberish.

Some of the things said were painfully obvious pointers: how the lunch room was meant for eating and how the janitor's closet had stuff to clean. It was apparent she'd lack a certain level of social skill.

[F/n] had tuned her out. She gave hum from time to time as to not hurt the imp's feelings.

She couldn't help but get the impression this "tour" idea was more of a case to show off. It wasn't anything foreign to her, the Ars Goetias had abodes similar to this. Only difference was the occasional unkept spider web and a whole lot more green. 

Not a single hint of what she would be doing or where to patrol.

They track through a warehouse. Clown merchandise flies through tracks as automated factory machines assemble bits and pieces of the goods. There were few workers, roaming, transporting boxes.

"Oh, here!" Amara had scribbled something down on the sheet hoisted in her clipboard.

"I totally got side tracked! But Mammon wants you to guard the merchandise tucks since local gangs get a little too ballsy and have a crack at stealing the entire shipments sometimes."

[F/n] blinks back into reality. It was astonishing to hear.

"Were any of them ever... Successful?"

"Plenty of times actually, it's really common. The last guard let in a group of thugs and they all hightailed it out with five separate semi-trucks. I can't even begin to describe how pissed Mammon was... Haha."

The dragon blinks again.

Were demons really desperate enough to steal from the literal kings of sin themselves? Granted it seemed like a handful of them at the very least succeeded so maybe the idea of it wasn't so stupid.

"Oh man, there they go again."

Some of the men transporting boxes shout warnings at each other, dropping various items before scurrying off.

"Thief! Thieves!"

A few feet between them in distance were no more than three imps in masks. Knives drawn. They split apart when loading themselves into one of the open trailers, one imp swinging the back of the trunk shut with himself inside as the other two hopped in the front.

Slamming the gas, the vehicle revs preliminary to it racing off.

Amara grabbed [F/n]'s wrist, trying to yank her to safety.

"W-We need to sound the alarm! Get security!"

The dragon doesn't budge.

"Isn't this my job."

Amara's sight meet hers, lips parted to make a protest at her. The cogs in her brain spin making her pause. 

Her face runs red in embarrassment.

Wordlessly her hand falls back at her side.

An overwhelming gust of wind nearly knocks her off her feet as [F/n] takes off after runaway thugs. Amara held her shirt down, squeezing her lids shut to prevent debris from getting into her eyes.

She swiftly peeks in the direction she zipped in, awe leaving her tongue as the dragon's profile rips through the air.

A blaring alarm comes from the building behind her, taking her immediate surveillance, vision clouded by a large green cloud.

The chime of coins and bells bellows a huge pit in her stomach.

[F/n] surveys the roads, following the obvious tire marks that were brunt into the street at any twist or turn. Inevitably she spots the speeding truck. She dives towards it, bracing herself, breaking into a roll atop the cargo box.

Her fingers dig into the metal, tail and wings swishing to balance themselves.

Using her claws she hikes as close to the frontend of the vehicle, growling in displeasure. The thieves seem none the wiser as the man in the passenger seat celebrates with a beer.

Short lived, however.

The windshield shatters, snatched by his hair, he's torn from his spot above and out of sight.

"SHIT—!" The driver swerves in a panic and completely loses control, arms coming over his eyes. He clutches the knife with a death grip letting the trailer crash into a lamp post.

He's hit with an airbag on impact.

His blade tears through it, trembling in his attempt to kick the door open. It was a struggle, but he eventually gets it, letting out a very short "ha" in relief. The imp stumbled out of his seat.

That too was short lived.

[F/n] wrapped his tail around her fingers pulling him above the totaled truck. The imp takes his opportunity to jam the blade into her hand, grinning manically at the swing.

The point snapped off clean when he jammed it into her scales.

What little hope he had of escaping left was diminished. His body ragdolls being tied up with his own tail, bandana ripped from his head. She forced his mouth open, practically stuffing the fabric uncomfortably deep in his throat only stopping when the imp gagged.

[F/n] slid him towards the other two who were all given the same treatment.

"Ugh fuck, this is gonna suck... C'mon [F/n], gotta make a good first impression." She grumbles, dragging all three to the open cargo box before swinging them inside through their muffled protests and squirming. The exit slams on them, safety lock clicking.

Her figure snakes back towards the center point, knuckles cracking, sinking them deep enough till the metal tore through giving her enough of a grip to attempt to take off with the box full of supplies.

"YOU'RE ALL FIRED! ALL YOU W̷O̵R̴T̶H̸L̵E̵S̶S̶ CUNTS GET THE FUCK OUT!!!"

Mammon smashed his fist into the wall, caving it, snarling. He'd effectively treated his subordinates like punching bags. Those who weren't lucky enough to escape were injured on the ground about.

Amara, wind sucked out of her, cringed trying to breathe again. Something was probably broken. 

Helplessly clutching her stomach she looked up at the sky. Despite the screaming and roaring from the spider as he attacked the others she found piece in simply looking at the green sky. 

Her vision blurred, yet still able to make out the image of passing clouds.

Was that a cloud? Pollution? 

It's getting awful close.

The wind grows louder.

Mammon growled in the direction of the sound, spider eyes squinting then widening. He flung the imp in his hold carelessly behind him while scurrying towards the figure.

[F/n] eagerly rushed to set down the massive box she'd somehow carried over. It falls with a clank. She sucked in a breath of air, swiping the wetness on her forehead. 

[F/n] steps towards Mammon, looking down at him.

His expression is unreadable.

The spider teleports closer, shoving the damn thing open to see everything still inside: alongside those pesky thieves.

A massive grin runs across his lips.

"It's about time we get some fuckin' cunt worth her tits in this place."

"Parameter is seriously compromised. There's multiple holes in the fence being used to sneak in— that's where your thug problem is coming from."

[F/n] paces. The dragon swished her tail.

"I also found a severed wire following your outdoor alarm, it won't sound till it's fixed. That's all I discovered."

Mammon grumbled something to himself mostly, eyelid twitching irritably.

He's jotting something down, stamping the note at the bottom before slamming his fist on a buzzer. A robot bursts into the room, trotting over towards his desk as Mammon shoves the sheet into its arms.

It u-turns and scampers out.

"Great. Ya' can get the fuck out too."

"I'm sorry?"

"I said ya' can get the fuck O̸̩͆U̷͑ͅŤ̷̟!"

[F/n] hissed as she was thrown out the room, doors slamming behind her. She crashed into a vase, shattering it upon impact. That's not all though, the spider web behind it tangled into her hair and wings.

Her claws rasp against the tile floor creating a horrid noise. Her teeth gritting in anger. He'd gotten the jump on her because she wasn't expecting him to escalate so quickly.

She's about to lunge back into his office up until a voice calls her name.

"Knight [L/n]!"

"Amara?!"

The imp rushes over as fast as she could in crutches, leaning over carefully to offer her a hand. She reluctantly accepts, making sure to not pull her at all otherwise she'd topple over.

"Gosh a-are you okay? That looked like it hurt."

And it was, leaving her with nothing but a slightly bruised ego.

"Trust me, the exorcists knocked me around harder than this piece of shit ever could."

The imp wryly looks at the door, shaking her head vigorously. She'd shush her, taking a few steps down the hallway. Amara looked over her shoulder and nodded at the dragon to follow, who with even more hesitation did.

"Not so loud, please, he might hear you and try something worse."

"He won't be able to pull that stunt on me twice."

[F/n] yawns, stretching her wings hazily. Her expression eases into a reassuring smile. The imp frowns, eyebrows knitted together. Unconvinced.

The pair stroll away from his office. The atmosphere is quiet apart from the low rattle coming from her tail whenever it'd graze the ground. Both were exhausted in their own way, rightfully so after the day they've had.

[E/c] eyes dart at the multiple pieces of artwork expanding the halls of Mammon doing various things. There was a common element in every painting, money, the spider himself looking triumphant in every photo.

The elevator dings, and the last thing she spotted was a painted caricature of a buffer looking Mammon flexing his bags. A twinge of second hand embarrassment rises to her cheeks, doing a full body eyeroll stepping into the elevator.

"I-I mean this respectfully but you don't know him like we do." Amara whispered.

[F/n] scoffs. "I've seen enough to know he has a log up his ass."

"He isn't bad if you avoid him."

"He's a fucking idiot that's what he is. I mean, seriously, why would he use trailers to transport goods when most of the greed ring is infested with rats—"

"Knight [L/n]."

"Boeings would be better efficiency wise, safe too, the gas for it is cheaper and they can carry way more cargo than those pathetic ass trucks."

"Knight [L/n], please." The elevator doors open, Amara tracking beside her with anxiety riddled in her skin.

"A majority of the greed ring are hobos with nothing to lose, at best they have shanks. They can't damage what they can't get ahold of, right? Even if the odd one out has a gun those Boeings aren't gonna go down to a fucking clip."

They both stop, [F/n] turning towards the imp with crossed arms. "How could this guy call himself a business man but do stupid shit like this?"

Amara sighs.

She opens a door revealing a bedroom.

"Listen this...Is where Mammon wants you to stay."

[F/n] flinched as if a sheet were dragged over her face. Eyebrows raised looking between the imp and the open room. Staying in his manor wasn't mentioned to her at all till now.

"Are you fucking me? In this dingy thing?"

[F/n] entered, eyeballing the mattress on the ground. There was a closet nearby and a bathroom connected to the room. There were untouched spiderwebs in most corners of the room.

"Mammon generously instructed me to provide you with the most comfortable room in the employee quarters."

"We have different definitions of comfortable."

Amara slowly nudges the door seeming rather apologetic but eager to leave. "I have to go sort some paperwork but as of now— you should get some rest." The door clicks.

[F/n] groaned.

She peeled her coat off her skin along with her shirt, tracking towards the closet. She slid the door open, staring at the even dingier article of clothing that were already there.

It smelled fresh out of a dumpster.

Without a further thought she closed it. Opting to use her clothes as a makeshift pillow. It was poorly padded, but beggars can't be choosers. Mammon wasn't known for generosity.

She kneeled onto the mattress. Which, to her surprise, was relatively clean in comparison. The lack of furniture was forgiven in her book at that. A minty aroma meets her nose as the energy to keep herself up was sapped.

[F/n] extended her wings over her figure, improvising on the lack of blanket. The elbow of her wing lay rest under her chin, [s/c] skin grazing against the scales.

She coiled into herself to keep warm, humming tiredly as the soreness of her body began to fade.

────────────

[F/n] was about two weeks in with no further interactions from Mammon. Though interestingly enough not even a few days after the incident Mammon had swapped the trucks for helicopters.

And her theory crafting was correct, spot on actually, as it became near impossible for whatever straggler dumb enough to steal from a sin to even take a glance at the material goods. The worn fence was replaced with an actual wall.

She figured maybe he'd have a slight stroke of genius in that empty skull of his. A thought coherent enough to realize and problem solve his error.

The idea made her chuckle.

There was a single problem.

Now that the merchandise was relocated and set up elsewhere safer, her game of cat and mouse with stragglers had ceased. Leaving her with not much else to do in his manor.

[F/n] had resorted to taking a hand in decorating her room. The notion of it never even crossed her mind till a few days ago. [F/n] believed wouldn't have the chance to, assuming her death would come at war. It was sad to admit but she didn't have much of a plan thereafter. 

Better late than never.

The mattress was no longer in the ground, but on a simple wooden bed frame.

She got rid of the dumpster clothes, cleaning out the closet before hanging an assortment of clothes she'd bring over from Jerevicius' home.

Not to mention finally having a proper pillow and silky blanket. It was the second thing she snagged.

He was kind enough to donate a nightstand as well, it was small but probably the nicer looking thing in the entire room. She scrounged up a bedside lamp too, only without a working bulb.

She didn't need the light since she was able to see perfectly well in the dark as a reptile. It wasn't something she was necessarily dying for and was for the most part forgotten about.

She'd gotten a plane black shower curtain to provide some semblance of privacy in the bathroom should someone walk in. Granted none of the locks were functional.

That was about all the progress made so far. It wasn't anything impressive but it grew on her.

[F/n] shut the door behind her, flying over the crowd of passing employees to reach the elevator. Swooping in when it opened and another walked out.

"Evening knight [L/n]!" A wolf joins her.

[F/n] grinned, poking a button. "Good evening."

"Back to wandering the warehouse today?" He barked.

"You already know it." She laughed. "Dull as always."

"Y'know, word actually got around the city you're guarding Mammon's estate. That's another factor why people avoid this place like the plague. We got it easier now."

A tint hues her expression as well as the tips of her ears.

The hellhound wags his tail, hooking an arm over her shoulder. His fur lightly grazed her skin, sending a small shock down her spine. [F/n], flustered, chucked softly.

"No one in their right mind wants to mess with a super soldier and a sin together." He adds.

The elevator slides open, startling the dog as it fumbled quickly to separate himself from the dragon. Mammon looked over his shoulder, feigning a smile as the pair join him in the warehouse.

"Scram." He hissed at the hound, who doesn't retort running off in a direction.

"'Bout time ya' fuckin' got here, 'ey cunt!" His watch meet hers, spider eyes themselves smiling as he beckons her over. "I need ya' for something."

[F/n] pursed her lips, looking somewhat irritated. Mammon notices, a green cloud escaping his pointed teeth.

"Ya' can blow fire?"

"Sorta? I mean, yeah, I guess."

"What kinda stupid lizard are ya' to not blow fire?"

Her tail flicked, wings pressing closer against her back. 

[F/n] rolled her eyes. "I'm radioactive, not a fireborn. My flames are weaker... Not all Drakons blow fire. Fuckin' racist..."

"Whatever, good enough."

Mammon spawns his walking stick, pressing it against her back as he forced her to begin walking with him. It didn't take longer than a minute for him to stop at a point to gesture at one of the factory furnaces.

The fire was visibly weaker, crackling sadly against the wooden pellets. Pieces of what she assumed to be bits of metal refused to properly melt on the moving conveyor belt.

It's obvious what he wants her to do, heat rising to her face as she opened the hatch.

[E/c] eyes run from the furnace to Mammon, back to the furnace then vise versa. Mammon raises a nonexistent brow, tapping his heel impatiently.

"I'd have to, uh..." She groaned. 

Just this once. Only once.

Defeated, her palms fall to the floor as scales grow on the rest of her [s/c] skin. Fully shielding her as she grew in size. Meeting Mammon's eye level, she takes a mental photograph seeing his impatience become interest. 

Taking in a sharp gasp of air, the back of her throat begins to bubble and erupt into gas. A reaction goes off and fire bellows out of her open muzzle at the dying flame.

It revives, radiating a vibrant green flame, snapping loudly. The metal begins to properly melt into its cast.

"Fuckin' perfect. Our fuel is runnin' low so be a doll and go run around doin' that to the rest of 'em ya cheeky cunt."

"I'm not doing that again." She declared.

"I don't think ya' heard me right." He threatens.

"The fumes from my acid can fucking kill someone." [F/n] steps up to him, holding his glare. "I'm not doing it." Their staring contest was enough to clear the employees of their immediate vicinity.

She whipped her tail in warning, the pressure wave heard by both parties as it ripped the air. The atmosphere is tense, extremely so, Mammon opens and cracks his knuckles as his fingertips coiled into a fist.

Above them walked an employee carrying a load. He stumbled, fearfully looking up at the stack of boxes that went well over his head. It wobbles. A panicked noise leaves his throat doing his best to regain its balance. He strangles the edges under his grip, silently praying.

The anxiety melts his body.

Then the contents still neatly.

Hefty, alleviating sigh rumbles out his throat. He takes a step forward. The box completely rips from underneath, propane tanks rolling through the breaks in the guard rail.

"Listen cunt, I don't give a fuck. Ya' do as I s—."

A tank crashes, shattering completely atop her head. Liquid propane runs down the back of her head, splashing at her feet when it hits the ground.

[F/n] sharply ducks under her wing as the rest of them fall. "The fuck?!"

Mammon doesn't flinch as he teleports away, looking directly at the source. His initial confusion turns into a distorted expression seeing the sinner practically wet his pants.

[F/n] grunted at every hit, cringing at the overwhelming smell of it. It feels especially gross trickling underneath her scales. Her head rises as the loud crashing of the tanks become no more, alarmed, at the massive puddle of flammable liquid dangerously expanding outward.

She shot a dejected look at the spider, who was too occupied in his own head to even notice her.

There's a goat with a lit candle-head who lazily leaves the elevator, papers clutched into folded arms. Too engrossed in shuffling them to notice anything else around it, the goat misses the puddle on the floor.

Mammon leaves his spot with a large cloud of green, reanimating by the sinner at the bridge over the automated machines. The smell of copper and paper bills that came from the gust was enough to knock him over, barely managing to hold onto the platform.

Just when you don't think it could be any worse, the whole floor ignites into fire. Screams echoed as the demons who were lucky enough to not be lit on impact trampled over each other to escape in the only other exit.

The vibrant green fire reflects in Mammon's eyes. He watches as the machinery is eaten by the fire.

He's taken aback by the sudden heatwave that'd hit him a second after the room lights up, raising an arm to his face as a means to block some of it. He looks at the demon hanging over the ledge, kicking him off and into the flames before vanishing.

[F/n] in particular is consumed like a piece of candy. Unaffected by the hellfire.

She attempts to stop out the flames around her but when it was apparent that wasn't enough she used her wings to clear it out faster.

The room burned, and burned it did. A fourth of it was destroyed and so was all the equipment within it. Some of the machines popped and clattered, melting, unable to withstand the heat. It had consumed a corner of the area, revealing the outside sky with the collapsing structure.

Thick, heavy, smog riddles the room making it difficult to see through. It's suffocating.

[F/n] barely manages to kill most of the fire, steadily making it over towards the new opening of the unit. Her wings extend, shooting another gust before forcibly being stopped.

One of the large assembly machines give way, crashing down on top of her. It's weight pins her wing, bending it at an uncomfortable angle.

It took her by surprise, freezing from the shock. Adrenaline pumps in her veins. Her eyes shake, face whirling forward. The scene changes.

She sees it all again, the war.

There's fire spreading across the ground circling her figure along the exorcists.

Their laughter plagued her ears as they jammed another spear into her wing, tearing at the flesh. Black ichor bled from her wounds but none of the pain mattered to her as she did everything she possibly could to break free from her bounds.

The exorcists had ropes tightly around the neck and limbs of her partner, pinning her down in front of [F/n]. They taunted her, jabbing more of their spears through bloodied scales.

The exhaustion finally caught up to her leaving her without the will to fight. Glossy aqua eyes stare into [e/c] ones, blinking slowly. There's a thin layer of reassurance and comfort in her expression as the blue dragon herself accepts the circumstances of their situation.

There's an angel who was stepping over her large body. Axe in hand. He stops at the blade of her shoulders holding his weapon above his head. It glints in reflection to the fire, evil cackle coming from its user.

She's screaming but no sound leaves her throat.

Unable to see the impact of it from her position, everything she needs to know is translated as the life in her eyes fade immediately on impact.

Her heart is pounding, a mighty roar thunders in the sky as she'd finally mustered up enough strength to shake and catapult off her own captors.

The machine atop her wing flings off her, startling the group of workers who'd flooded the room with fire extinguishers in hand. They'd eliminate any of the leftovers she couldn't get to.

[F/n] freaks out feeling a hand touch the side of her shoulder, hastening at it with an open jaw. Her face wrinkled viciously in anger.

She becomes motionless seeing Mammon was the one who tapped her. His hand doesn't move from in between her hanging teeth and for the first time he actually looked taken aback.

They're like that for a passing moment.

Mammon slowly recollects his hand back to his side. He shakes his head. "Fuckin' crazy bitch."

[F/n] huffed.

"It's not my fault you don't have a sprinkler system. What the fuck did you think was going to happen?"

Mammon grumbled. He rubs the top of his head exasperated. All he could see was the money lost in both products and gear. "The fuck am I gonna do with all this burnt shit." He'd mutter mostly to himself yet it was loud enough for her to hear.

"Donate it to a recycling company."

"D̴̩͌O̵̳̭͝N̷͎̝̈́̈́Ả̵͙̰T̸͠ͅE̴͖͒̅?!"

"Yeah, donate, are you stupid? Use it as a tax write-off. Saves you more money instead of selling it to them. I did this for the prince I was working for, you have no idea how much you can shave off doing that. Cheaper to do that and get new machines than repair the shitty busted up old ones you have."

Mammon, ignoring her quip, hummed. A small layer of irritation comes to him as he hadn't been the one to figure it out. 

Yet his interest is piqued.

"Sell the merchandise that didn't burn all the way through, mark it as every product being unique or something. Your fans are mentally deranged enough to eat it up anyway."

"Ya' seem to know a lot about this sorta thing."

[F/n] nods. "I was a financial advisor before I was a knight. There's a ton of stupid work-arounds you can take advantage of."

The knowledge she had seemed useful. Very much so. She knew things his advisor didn't, frustrating him. Mammon was excellent at marketing, selling, and mass producing useless products. 

Keeping track of it all was extremely time consuming and often left him busy for days at a time.

Sometimes weeks, or months even. 

Admittedly, the idea of good help made him fantasize how much more he could earn.

If he just had that extra amount of free time: that room to breathe, explore, then he knew surely he'd be able to discover new money-making business ventures. It made his greedy heart chirp.

He'd smile at her, patting the top of her muzzle.

"Meet me in my office once you get cleaned up, don't keep me waiting." Was the last thing he'd say to her at the trashed warehouse.

Mammon blinks and he's back in his office chair. He waved his hand and materializes a golden sheet of paper with a feather. 

He should be pissed at the mess, enraged, but he wasn't.

If what she was saying was true then perhaps this was a good thing. He made a mental note of shoving that responsibility on her later. Mammon would never admit to it, but he was impressed by a sheer increment at her knowledge.

Two weeks back he was tempted to make her life significantly harder or even toss her out because of the way she spoke about him, least until he heard her idea about transporting goods through air instead of ground through his surveillance system.

It pained him to admit she had a point. Several.

Exploiting stupid sinners for free labor only took him so far. That's all they were. Stupid and gullible. What use is stupid in a field like this one? 

Mammon is smiling. He's quick to writing, excitedly drafting a contract.

[deliverusfromevillll]

A Sticky Situation [Mammon/F!Reader] [P2]

❝ Ya' wearin' my shirt with nothin' under? Seems like ya' were plannin' for something princess. ❞

warnings ⨾ swearing, arachnophobia (the irony once again), established prior connection, established relationship, soft mammon, mutual pinning, sexual content, cunnilingus, creampie, dubious consent, size difference, height difference, no beta we die like Adam, AFAB Reader

terms ⨾ ❝ Drakon ❞ the Latin word meaning "dragon."

notes  ⨾ Hi everyone, sorry for the lack of an update in like 3 months lmao I'm immunocompromised and was hospitalized with pneumonia: to make a long story short I got hit with that AO3 curse and almost died. This was literally a few days after I originally posted this and the combination of getting mega sick with a pretty gnarly hospital bill (woohoo America) waiting for me after kinda killed my motivation to do anything aside from work and pay bills. I've slowly regained motivation to continue this and some of the comments from AO3 have seriously gave me the kick in the ass I needed to finish off this draft. If you would like to be part of the process in between me brainstorming and posting ( as I am currently looking for beta readers ) and/or generally would like to see WIPs feel free to join my discord ( NgT88bybyY ).

[01]

As always minors DNI.| 5.1K words

Mammon shifted through a few sheets of paper, glossing over each of them without much of a second thought before setting them back down on his desk.

He sighed.

His eyes gloss over the infographic one of his servants delivered from [F/n]'s personal office. The margin of sales, despite positive, was not a big of a success as he had anticipated.

The twins, as kickass as they were, simply could not replace Fizzarolli.

Mammon rotates his chair around, looking at the mountain of moneybags he had stored. Well, rather piled everywhere behind him. He stands and walks over to pick up the closet one.

It jingles with every movement. Tossing the bag a small distance above his hands before recapturing it. The weight of it felt like a feather to him.

He grimaced. Dropping it with a loud thud.

Mammon turned back towards his desk, he swats some sheets of paper away as if it were a pest.

His fist slams onto a small button, watching the small bulb above it glow a gentle shade of green.

"'Ey." He grumbled.

There was radio silence on the other side. He gives it a second before leaning closer towards the machine.

"'Ey cunt, I'm fuckin' talking to you!"

There was an awful buzzing on the other side followed with a loud clatter.

"S-Sorry sir! Is there something I can help wi—"

"Send [F/n] into my personal office now before I come down there and snap y're worthless fuckin' neck!"

A small thump follows. Mammon would roll his eyes if he could, severing the connection thereafter.

He grabs a fistful of the various papers on his desk, opening a drawer attached to his desk and aggressively stuffs them inside indifferent with the fact most were crumpled as a result.

He sways gently in his seat, planting a palm over his face.

[F/n] groans as the buzzer interrupts her phone call. She paces away from it, cupping her hand over the microphone.

"Listen chiquita, it's harder to keep up with demand when we no longer have the support of Asmo—"

"You think your insolence is gonna blow over well with Mammon? You figure this shit out, fast."

The beeping loops louder, this time startling [F/n] as her stutter allows her phone to slip from her hands. It hits the floor with a thump, [F/n] quickly collecting it to see the call had ended.

"—is requesting your presence in his private office."

She blinks.

Then she sighed.

Shutting the door behind her, she crosses the hallway. Approaching the door opposite of hers, looking at the massive sigil glowing brightly on his door. She knocks twice before opening it without waiting for a response.

Mammon removes his hand from his face, observe meeting hers, as she approaches him with a short smile.

"You know you can just send me a text or come to my room right?"

"I like seeing you come to me." He huffs, waving and beckoning her closer as she treads past his desk.

Mammon extends his arms and lifts [F/n] onto his lap, slouching down to rest his head in between the crevasse of her neck and shoulder. He inhales deeply, groaning quietly as her perfume scent soothes his stress.

His lower hands planted firmly at her thighs while his upper pair held onto her arms. He rubs circles on her muscles, massaging her, earning that familiar purr he instantly fell in love with the night he first took care and tended to her. He smiles into her skin at the memory.

[F/n] drapes her wings around him like a small blanket, planting a kiss on his cheek. His chest rumbles in response.

"The fuck are we gonna do?" His voice was muffled in her skin, gently tickling her.

"Well at least you're in the positive, right?"

"Yeah but it's not enough."

She giggles at that. "It never is."

He grumbles something unintelligible, kissing her shoulder before rising to meet her gaze. His stare trails to the bend of her wing, seeing it extended as much as his webbing would allow. The web itself looks a little beat, almost as if she scratched it against something.

"Do ya' want me to replace it?" He asks with a pointed look.

[F/n] follows his watch, shaking her head.

"I was actually hoping to remove it today. I wanted you to have the honors."

Mammon released the drip on one of her arms as he brings it to stroke his work. He hesitated.

"Ya' sure? It really ain't that big 'o deal to just fix it."

She nods, angling it slightly more in his direction to make it easier to pull off. He does so, immediately inspecting it over to see her scales had regrown over the original injury.  [F/n] lightly pulls away her wing from his grip, flapping it in experimental increments before resettling over him.

"Definitely better, not being able to fly sucked really fucking hard."

Mammon pursed his lips. He looks at her unsure on what to say, or rather, unable to find the words for his next thought.

"I —uh— amped up the security. After... Y'know."

"It's fine honestly. They couldn't aim."

"It wasn't. I don't have the slightest idea what I'd fuckin' do if it were any worse." He adjusts the cloth underneath his chin. Mammon swallows thickly. "It's the only thing I could fuckin' think about with all this other worthless fuckin'..."

The hold on her thighs become tighter.

[F/n] instinctively brushes her hands against his, making him realize as he eases off and resumes pressing his thumbs into circles.

"Asmodeus bein' a fuckin' bitch."

She hums, resting her chin onto his chest.

"You know what would help?"

"What?"

"Getting out of here for a day and just taking a break. When was the last time we went out together and did nothing work related?"

He actually gave it thought, realizing he genuinely cannot remember. It must've been months, if not, closer to a year at that. He frowned.

"Y're right. Let's let these fuckin' unpaid interns take care o' the shipments."

[F/n] smiled wide, flapping her wings excitedly.

"You got a lot of faith in those interns y'know." [F/n] giggled.

"If they fuck up I'll just kill 'em."

Mammon stands. He watched her bounce off him, tail wagging as she soars before the door. She practically rips it open.

He follows after her, letting her pass through as he shuts the door behind him. His sigil glows brightly behind them as they walk along the hall.

[F/n] flies beside him, leaning on his shoulder slightly.

"Where do you wanna go? We should have dinner! I know of this really good, high end, restaurant for royals in the Gluttony ring too. We can also do a movie! Loo Loo Land? I feel like that'd be kinda weird though."

She floats before Mammon, grinning ear to ear as an abundance of things run through her mind. Mammon watches her, heart chirping at her enthusiasm.

"How about coffee? We could also just stroll down Ransom and kill sinners. Or—"

Mammon grabs [F/n] propping her under his arm like a football. Her wings trapped. Despite everything, he didn't want her to end up tiring herself out gibbering out random ideas.

"Dinner sounds nice mate." He stated happily.

The so referred to high-end restaurant she spoke of required a reservation. The waitlist on it was no joke, spanning forward for several months.

None of that mattered to either of them however, as being anything related to royalty meant you were basically free to do and go where appropriate. Mammon held his head high walking parallel to the massive line of sinners who'd presumably been waiting for hours.

[F/n] led themselves before the security, who had without question allowed them inside to be seated.

Their server, despite sweating bullets, had brought them to their most exclusive table away from a majority of the other patrons. The booth was placed before a large mural spanning across the wall accompanied with vibrant potted plants.

The server gestures towards the table with a deep breath.

"Your seat madam, sir."

Mammon plops himself down comfortably, stretching an arm out around the curve of the booth. [F/n] takes her seat some distance beside him, however short lived as he reached over to scoot her closer.

He looks stoically at the server who stuttered slightly while placing down the menus.

"C-Can I get you started on any drinks?"

[F/n] looked over at Mammon. "Champagne?"

He smiles at her, nodding once.

"I'll be back at once."

[F/n] watches as the server vanishes, immediately picking up the menu thereafter to peer through it.

"Isn't this nice?" She chimed.

Mammon hunches over slightly to read some of the things of interest she'd point at. Or at least feigned it, as he looked over the menu to see others and passing staff shoot glances at them.

He snakes a hand in between her thighs, grumbling as a certain level of discomfort washed over him.

He was used to being in the spotlight, reveled in it, enjoyed it in its entirely, but in this instance it felt as though he naked.

"Do you want seafood? Steak? Chicken?"

He snaps out of his trance.

"Yeah."

[F/n] looks up at him with a raised brow. "Yeah to what part?"

"Your champagne."

Mammon redirects his attention to the server, both watching as he poured the contents into their glasses before leaving the bottle aside. He pulls out a pen and paper. "Madam, are you ready to order?"

"Uhh—"

"Give us the best shit ya' got on the menu." Mammon cuts in, smiling wide as he waved the server away. He nods, scribbling something down. The server very quickly collects the menus before scurrying.

"I mean that also works." [F/n] laughed nervously, reaching down to place her hand over the one at her thighs. "Thank you for agreeing to come out with me."

Mammon softened at that, humming in content. "Ya'know I can't say no to ya' princess." He pecks the top of her head, running his extended arm through her hair.

"Y're mine." He quickly adds, saying it firmly. Mammon squeezes her thigh as if to emphasize it. [F/n]'s tail wags.

"How do you feel?" She asked.

Mammon mulled over his feelings. "Fuckin' starving princess, I might have to take a bite out of ya' at this rate." He cooed, bicolored tongue flicking her cheek. [F/n] giggles, pushing his face away.

It only resulted in him playfully licking her hands, to which she squealed.

"Mammon stop! I-I have to pee!" She said in between yelps. He ignores this for a few moments, continuing to toy with her.

Mammon gets dangerously close again, watching her squirm, before stopping abruptly and pecking the spot he licked on her features.

"Make it quick." He huffed.

[F/n], still giggling softly, nods as she leaves his side. The cool air brushes against the spot of saliva on her face, making her painfully aware of its existence if in case she forgot it even for a mere moment.

She rejoins the general population within the restaurant, eyeballing where the restroom might be.

The whispers around her grew, and amongst it all she could only capture a few words.

"That's a sin's bitch, can you believe it? Mammon is following Asmodeus' route."

Her lips form a thin line. It doesn't take her long spot it. She moves carefully through the crowd.

Pushing the door open, she treads towards the sink, turning on the fossette. She swats the cool water with a finger before cupping some of the liquid into her hand and splashing her face.

[F/n] looks at the mirror, letting out a long sigh.

Despite everything, she had secretly hoped that somehow her status as a knight would grant them an ounce of leniency when it came time to pass judgement. But even then— it was pointless.

The sins themselves simply cannot be compared.

She had done her best to feign ignorance at scrying eyes, however she knew Mammon would take notice. Mammon knew when he drew a crowd, it'd be impossible for him not to.

She only hoped he didn't regret coming out with her. Despite her encouragement to not be publicly affectionate for the sake of his image: he rebutted it with a simple, "I don't fuckin' care what these broke cunts think." And true to his word it was very obvious he couldn't keep his hands off her.

The last thing they needed right now is a tarnished reputation.

Mammon's reputation.

On top of everything, the thoughts of the overall net-loss and lack of sales have lingered within the corners of her mind. It bothered her more than she'd expect. More than she'd admit.

The journey to their current point was rocky sure, but none of it compared to losing Mammon's precious brand baby entirely. Even if Mammon refused to admit or acknowledge it, the impact of it was definitely noticeable.

She pursed her lips.

Maybe it was time to suck up her pride and reach out. This battle of egos was one not in their favor.

[F/n] takes small pile of disposable towels from the dispenser, patting down her features before tossing them.

She fishes for her phone, opening her messages with the ex-employee. The digital keyboard sprouts up. [F/n] paused at their final exchange.

Hey Fizz, Glam sisters are nearly finished with their act, please be ready in 10 to go next. Break a leg♡— SENT [5:19PM]

Fizzie?— SENT [5:28PM]

Fizz where are you? The sisters are wrapping up.— SENT [5:31PM]

I found your bodyguard and he told me you ran off. Are you okay??? Mammon is about to blow a fuse. I'm trying to stall him for a few more minutes. I'm sorry. Please be okay.— SENT [5:35PM]

Hey [N/n], I'm going now. Thank you for always being nice to me. Mammon could learn a thing or two about you~ (╹◡◠)— RECIEVED [5:37PM]

Their messages were always loosely professional. Though they were never exactly friends she would do him favors often he clearly appreciated.

And on the flip side, seeing as Mammon couldn't be bothered to do much himself, had [F/n] communicate plans and potential ideas to Asmodeus.

There was a certain level of sympathy casted towards the dragon, knowing full well that Fizzie being mistreated could only mean so were the rest of his employees.

Even if he wouldn't be willing to entirely return— it was worth keeping a good relationship to try and keep Asmodeus' labor force on their side.

[F/n] mulled over if she did enough to even be worth a response.

What would she even say?

What can she say?

Would Mammon even be capable of being cordial in this scenario? Probably very unlikely.

Another sigh rolls out. Impossible.

Food for thought.

She glances towards the mirror, standing straight as she feigns a smile: pulling unwanted wrinkles on her clothes.

No matter what, they'd have to figure this out together. They just had to.

[F/n] emerges out of the restroom, tracing her steps back towards Mammon. Their eyes meet prompting her to smile in his direction as he did the same. She never failed to notice how attractive he were.

All that interrupted as someone had bumped into her.

The lot of beverages stacked in his hold go flying. Sounds of glass breaking and clattering follow.

There was a pause.

Then a strong puff of green emerged before [F/n].

"'YA GOT A DEATH WISH OR SOMETHING CUNT?!" Mammon snarled, glaring down at the hound splayed on the floor between them. Larger puffs of green exit through his teeth menacingly.

The restaurant goes radio silent before a soft, "Ooo," from various patrons breaks the tension.

"I-I am so sorry sir, I-I-I swear I couldn't see her I —ohsweetLucifer— I am SO sorry!"

[F/n] flicked off the various types of alcohol from her arms, sighing. She forces a nervous smile.

"It's fine honestly, Ammo, it was an accident."

Mammon's attention is captured at her words, observing her try and swipe off the fluid from her body. The booze made her skin glisten and shimmer in the light, highlighting her smooth [s/c] skin.

She was glowing. Radiant. Hot.

Mammon's breath hitched. A wave of warmth meets his face as sparks emerge and trail randomly over his body.

[F/n] offered down a hand to the hellhound, who was rattling quickly glancing between them. He, with major reluctance, slowly reached out to accept.

A quick glare from Mammon causes him to change his mind however, as the wolf stumbled upwards to stand. Despite trembling, he does his best to recollect himself before twirling to look at the pair.

"I-I sincerely apologize for my incompetence, madam." The wolf bows before [F/n]. "I will ensure your dinner is on the house tonight, please forgive me."

They watch him scurry off, quickly refocusing on each other as [F/n] slightly trembled from the fresh alcohol stuck to her skin. Her tail swishes behind her. She folded her wings around herself.

The other sinners had no problem watching on however. Their eyes were glued. It was as if their whispers grew louder.

She seemed almost embarrassed to meet his stare.

"Y're shakin'." Mammon points out.

"It's just... the booze is kinda cold. I'll be fine."

Her reflection mirrors perfectly in his eyes.

Alcohol was dripping from the crevasses of her scales. Despite her effort there was no way she'd be able to dry herself off like this. As appetizing as she looked in her current state, he can't imagine how uncomfortable that must've been.

Mammon surveyed the direction the mutt stumbled in.

The spider crouched over to greedily steal a sweet peck from her lips in an attempt to distract her. He caressed her cheek. A reassuring squeeze on her shoulder.

"I'm gonna send ya' back to my room princess." He states. "Take a shower. Get real comfortable for me, yeah?" The tone in his voice indicated there was no room for protest.

She looks up at him, mouth slightly ajar, however unable to find the effort to defy him.

There's a dark, clouded, look in his expression.

[F/n] sighed, looking away while simultaneously closing her eyes. "I'm sorry this ruined our dinner."

Her claw comes up to rub her eyelids, attempting to mask the massive level of disappointment that washed over her. When there was no response she uncovered her features.

She's met with his room.

[F/n] blinks, gaze trailing the floor.

"Well... Shit." The volume in her words evaporates.

[F/n] spins to march in the direction of his bathroom. Rushing to rip off her soaked clothing, she tosses it rather harshly on the floor some distance away from herself. Hands shakily planting onto the granite countertop.

Looking herself in the mirror, she swallows thickly.

How humiliating.

She was considered a royal. A knight. No matter her retirement, she will keep that title forevermore.

Yet fighting exorcists somehow felt less stressful and much more easy to do.

As much as she wanted everything to go smoothly, mainly for his sake, feeling as though she'd disappointed the most important person in her life made her feel incredibly subpar.

A failure.

The gravity of it all comes crashing down on her.

Tears sting her eyes as she opens the shower, running the nozzle at the hottest setting. [F/n] stands idle. Hot water cascades over her body, washing away traces of alcohol and sweat from her skin.

She watches discoloration of the water go down the drain.

The aroma becomes less prominent, lathering herself in his eucalyptus scented body wash. She takes her loofa, dragging it over her scales.

[F/n] tries to scrub the stress out of her body. Efforts rewarded as the minty smell meets her nose. She puts aside the scrub, taking her own non-scented hair shampoo squirting a dollop into her palm.

She raked her claws gently through her [h/c] hair. Feeling the suds build up in between her scaled fingers. Her fingers continue to massage her scalp until she's satisfied, stepping back towards the running water.

Her tail swished behind her. Allowing the water to clear the soap from her body. She closed her eyes, trying to ignore the embarrassment that floods through her as she's reminded of what just happened.

Though the water felt good temporarily, it wasn't enough to wash away her anxiety.

The water halts, [F/n] steps out after squeezing most of the water out of her hair. She pats herself down, hastily wrapping a towel around her body. Stepping out of the bathroom, she trails over towards Mammon's wardrobe.

Though his usual clothes were a size much, much too big for her he did keep some of his older shirts that no longer fitted him— having them tailored to fit more comfortably on [F/n] as well as accommodate her wings.

She recalled telling him how it saddened her she wouldn't be able to wear his clothes once and this was the solution he drew. It fitted her as a slightly lose larger shirt but she wasn't one to complain.

She sighed, breathing in his scent as if it were air. It was the single thing that put her more at ease.

Opening her wings, she slowly exists the room: dragging herself towards the kitchen. She glides towards one of the higher cabinets, fishing for a large pan.

Floating back down, she places it on the stove. Her hand grips the oven handle, hesitating as she even wonders if there was anything left within their fridge.

[F/n] walks over to open the fridge, glancing around. Nothing in particular stuck out to her, until she saw a few packets of eggs hidden at the very back of the shelves.

Bending over, she scoots some of the other items away to make a clear path to drag the eggs out of the fridge.

"Holy fuckin' shit." A voice quivered.

[F/n] quickly pulls herself out of the fridge, turning around to see Mammon with a fierce shade of green covering his face.

He shoved the bags of takeout onto the counter: as well as the random assortment of flowers and chocolates he brought with him.

"I-I, uh, was gonna make us something to eat, s-since I wasn't sure if you uh—"

"How about I eat that lil' cunt o' yours you just flashed me with princess?"

He grins mischievously. [F/n]'s cheeks flared. Like a deer in headlights she's frozen in place, unable to move as Mammon treaded towards her. Her heart beats in her throat.

"I... We can eat first if—" Her voice is quickly lost as Mammon's hand grips her chin.

"Shut it, I've been fantasizing about this since I first kissed ya'."

He breathed, pressing a kiss on her lips. Mammon grabs onto her thighs, spreading them around himself and he brought her towards the table.

Mammon breaks the kiss, allowing her to splay over the table as he bends down after her. His teeth nips at her lower lip, bicolored tongue prodding in between her teeth. [F/n] releases a hot breath as her tongue slides with his.

The spider holds both of her wrists still on both sides of her face, using his other pair to grope her breasts. It doesn't take very long for them to make way down. One stuck between the flesh of her thighs while the other hikes up her shirt.

A low groan follows.

"Ya' wearin' my shirt with nothin' under?" He chuffed. "Seems like ya' were plannin' for something princess."

His grin expands impossibly larger, tongue dragging across the skin in between her breasts as he drunkly takes in a large whiff of her scent.

The wet muscle comes all the way down before stopping at her sex.

[F/n] shivers, muttering out a low "Mammon."

"All this for me— all of you belongs to me princess."

"Yes Mammon." She sighed, tilting her head slightly down to take a glance at him, heart still pounding.

She never forgot their difference in size, but when he's crumpled over her like this it makes her feel even smaller in comparison. It was impossible not to drool over the thought.

[F/n] can feel the warmth of his breath against her sensitive skin, and it only serves to heighten the sensation.

Mammon's eyes meet hers for a mere second before he sunk his mouth in between her soaked folds, lapping up her nectar as if it were the only thing he'd consumed in days.

Out of pure reflex, [F/n] attempted to press her knees together, quickly forgoing that notion as his lower pair of hands grip down roughly at her thighs and forced them apart effortlessly. She moans.

Mammon flicked over her clit quickly sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body. She gasps loudly as he starts sucking on her sensitive flesh, drawing out a long moan deep within her.

"Ya' like that, huh?" Mammon asks, his voice low and husky. "Fuckin' whore."

He continues to lap at her juices, his tongue swirling around her entrance savoring the taste. [F/n] nods, unable to speak through her pleasure. His other hand slips between her legs, finding her swollen clit.

She lets out a moan as he starts to tease her sensitive bud, rubbing it gently at first before increasing pressure. His touch is electric, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body.

"Fuck— Mammon..." She pants, voice shaking. "I-I'm going to..."

Mammon immediately stops his ministrations, tongue pulling away from her folds. His bicolored tongue slurped up the remaining slick dripping from his lips.

[F/n] let's out a whine, tugging at her pinned wrists slightly. Her brows knit together in slight annoyance at the loss of her high.

"Ammo what the f—?!"

Much like a rag-doll, Mammon flips her on her stomach in a quick motion and a small thud. Leaning over her as he exhales sharply. A puff of green smoke cloud her vision for merely a second. The hold he kept on her wrists tightened.

"Y're not gettin' off till I do bitch." He growled into her ear. Hot breath blowing against her skin.

"'M sorry." [F/n] mewls out.

"Good girl."

His weight kept her pinned against the wood as she squirmed slightly. Mammon drops his trousers, roughly grasping her tail to pull her closely against him.

[F/n] finally feels his swollen cock poke at her entrance. [E/c] eyes widen, unable to give it much of any thought at Mammon uses his hand to properly angle himself.

He sinks his hard cock deep inside with a single push, grunting hungrily. Granted his larger size would mean a bigger and fatter dick, but nothing could've prepared her for this.

She squeaked loudly. Eyes watering as she felt herself getting split apart.

"That cunt is so fuckin' tight..." Mammon muttered.

Her nails dug into the wood, peeling the material. The sudden fullness nearly knocked the wind out of her.

Letting out another whimper as Mammon withdrew, she's quickly appeased when he ruts back forward. Ramming his cock inside her.

The sound of the table creaking fills the air paired with the loud wet clapping that came with each thrust. The string of moans echo louder as she stares blankly into space with half-lidded eyes.

"Mammon it's too m—!"

Mammon bites down on her neck, sharp teeth sinking into her flesh to interrupt her as he continues to piston his hips against hers.

The taste of her blood meets his tongue as he soothes over the love bite. However hastily forgotten about as he moves his mouth over to bite down on her shoulder, leaving a trail of hickeys behind. 

[F/n] forcefully arched as Mammon angled her tail higher.

His movements become more erratic, hips drilling into her without mercy. She can feel his cockhead pressing against her spongy cervix, a fresh wave of pleasure runs through her body.

"F-Faster..!" [F/n] whimpers. His movement becomes labored for a moment before he complies.

"Needy whore." The grip on her tail falls as he moves both his lower hands to grasp her hips. His claws press into her soft skin desperately in an attempt to pull her closer.

He fucks her harder than ever, table cracking under pressure. Green bolts of electricity run down his arms and over her body, tickling her skin lightly.

The fullness and rapid pace of his thrusts into her sopping cunt was too much for her to handle. 

The sensation of it all was overwhelming.

 [F/n] cried out in pleasure as her orgasm washes over her completely. She convulses underneath him, chipping more of the wooden material from underneath her nails.

Her gummy walls squeeze down on his shaft hungrily. The tightness of her pussy wrapped around his throbbing cock in anticipation, craving.

"That's right, milk my cock bitch." Mammon growls, grunting loudly as his hips snapped flush against hers. Jolts and sparks of electricity fly out of his body excitedly.

A warm sensation spreads through her lower abdomen. His thick, creamy seed fills her bruised cunt painting her walls in white.

She rolls out another loud moan, trembling underneath him.

He continued to weakly thrust deep into her, sighing as he finally came down from his high and stilling inside her until he was finished cumming. Mammon released her wrists, leaning back to look at his work.

[F/n] was sprawled out panting quietly, [e/c] eyes peering over her shoulder to meet his stare.

A bead of sweat trails down her forehead.

Mammon paused, a shade of deep green spreading across his features. He pulls out slowly, watching her wince, breath catching at her throat, and a loud splat of their mixed seeds hit the ground. 

A strand of cum still connects his cock to her clit.

His eyes watch as globs of his cum seep out of her, lazily scooping some of it with his finger to nudge back inside. 

Mammon breaks the silence with a short husky chuckle.

"At the rate I'm gonna be fuckin' ya' all of hell wouldn't have to worry about drakons goin' extinct—"

A loud creak grabs both of their attention, eyes darting towards the door.

One of the robotic servants hum entering the room with a mop in hand, freezing upon seeing their scene.

Mammon immediately glares at the maid, low growl pitched at his throat as the robot rushes out the room.

"I'm gonna fuckin' destroy that worthless piece of metal!"

[F/n] pushes herself up, wobbling to stand with wings coiled over her naked body. Slowly but surely she turns to face the sin, swallowing thickly as she felt more of their nectar dribble down her thighs. 

"It's just a robot..." [F/n] giggles. "Plus we kinda made a, ah, mess."

Mammon huffs. 

"That ain't the point." 

Looking over at the stuff he'd brought, she was surprised seeing some of it survive.

Granted the drinks tipped over the table and spilled all on the floor, the takeout itself along with his gift was still mostly alright.

"So... Flowers? Chocolate?" She grinned at him, Mammon mutters something under his breath as a deeper shade covers his expression.

He hands her a wad of napkins to clean herself up as he picks up his pants. [F/n] fixes back down the shirt she was wearing.

"Don't be coy with it otherwise I'll pull my fuckin' pants back down 'nd stick my stiffy in your little mouth." He grumbled. "I'm still half hard."

[F/n]'s smile grows bigger.

The stern look Mammon gave her melted into a laugh.

"Fuckin' whore." 

"You're the one who offered~." She purrs, tossing the used napkins aside.

"Now how about dinner then a rinse? I'm starving!" Her tail wags cheerfully as the savory smell meets her nose upon ripping open the plastic bag, stomach growling.

"Just cause y're off the hook for now doesn't mean ya' will be later princess."

"Oh?" 

Mammon kneads her ass as he lifts her off the ground to plant a kiss on her lips. She places a hand on his chest, snuggling closer into his warm figure.

He nuzzles the crook of her neck, pecking some of the hickeys.

"When did I give ya' the green light to cum?"

"Oh." Her lips pursed, [F/n] hums out. "I guess you didn't, did you?"

A sly, toothy, smile grows on his features.

[deliverusfromevillll]

A Sticky Situation [Mammon/F!Reader]

❝ What fuckin' nonsense have ya' been telling y'reself this entire time? ❞

warnings ⨾ blood, descriptions of gore, guns, gunshot wound, choking, swearing, arachnophobia (the irony), established prior connection, soft mammon, sexual content, unresolved sexual tension, resolved angst

terms ⨾ ❝ Drakon ❞ the Latin word meaning "dragon." ❝ Bogan ❞ Australian slang meaning (in negative connotation) someone who's a bit of a nerd or geek, holds no dress sense and/or has poor social skills.

notes  ⨾ I am very much not Australian so when I looked up slang and could not find ANY concrete definitions for anything: I was in major pain. Anyways quick thing because [F/n]'s lore might seem confusing. I created an entirely different race of "humanoid" dragons that acted as the knight/official guards for the Ars Goetia incase of extermination/assassination attempts. [F/n] retired from her position as knight for an unnamed Goetia. This entire chapter was originally 13K words but I felt as though the plot arc with the Goetia drifted way too far from the original point of this fic since it was so, so needlessly lore heavy for a reader insert and made this 100x more angsty like you have no idea. Especially since this is only meant to be two chapters. This chapter was cut down for your reading pleasure! If you would like to be part of the process in between me brainstorming and posting ( as I am currently looking for beta readers ) and/or generally would like to see WIPs feel free to join my discord ( NgT88bybyY ).

[02]

As always minors DNI.| 6.3K words

[F/n] and Mammon's relationship is unique.

He was her boss, and she was his secretary.

Running the errands, info graphing, and scheduling his business appointments when due. But it wasn't so simple.

With his artificially friendly attitude in public, behind the scenes he was nothing but cynical— snarky and demanding. Hardly surprising for the king of greed.

[F/n] was no fan, she made it clear.

Despite the lethal glares and threats she managed to shoot a quip or a snark in return each time. It initially prompted a warning hiss or a growl, an insult or a threat.

Then he resorted to shredding through his confined costume to intimidate her one time after they both seriously got into it. Neither party was satisfied in not having the last word.

Despite however many threats were hurled nothing ever came about them.

[F/n] desired the experience the job gave her and Mammon found her too entertaining to simply let go.

[F/n] and Mammon's relationship is undeniably unique.

But damn, there was no shying away from the fact [F/n] did her job exceptionally well. The best in all of Hell. And that's another one of the handful of reasons why he tolerated her.

"Y'er getting on my nerves lizard." Mammon seethes with a false smile.

He sulks leaning away, poisonous puff of green air seeping though his teeth.

[F/n] raises a brow at him, eye roll following. "I need you to work with me here, asshole." [F/n] adjusted herself, turning towards him.

"If you wanna reduce the immediate damage Asmodeus and his little lapdog made we need to start advertising the twins asap. What's bothering you right now?"

Mammon huffed. "The leftover Fizz merch— sales are declining incase ya' haven't seen mate. I'm losin' money."

[F/n] clicked her tongue.

"Whatever doesn't sell now we can resell in a few weeks as vintage or some other bullshit with a higher price tag. You have any idea how much these loser collectors will pay to get their hands on discontinued merchandise?"

That's all it took for Mammon to light up, snatching [F/n] with his top hands in excitement.

"Y'er a bloody GENIOUS!" He shakes her, dropping her instantaneously. "We could double —no— TRIPLE our profits thanks to these degenerates! Ahh I taught ya' so bloody well!"

Mammon splays his hands towards the imaginary dollar signs in the air, clapping eagerly.

"And that's why I love ya' doll!" He shouts with a hefty grin, giving her a final charmed glance as he turned to make way towards the awaiting camera crew. Robo-Fizzies chasing after him with lighting sticks and microphones.

[F/n] catches herself after his stare, the spines on her tail rattling flustered. Her posture eases before anyone else can see as she flicks her tail in response.

Damn did she hate whenever he said things like that.

It's almost as if he knew the effect he had on her, doing and saying things that would purposefully rile her up. [F/n] refused to acknowledge any part of it, counteractive to the very obvious blush on her completion.

Through the commotion, Mammon smiled charismatically in [F/n]'s direction as their eyes met again. This was going to be a long shoot.

"That went better than I expected." [F/n] mumbles. Mammon appearing in a green cloud next to her. Bells chiming happily.

"Why'dya say that? Doubted me?" He rung.

"Well for all the years I've known you— Accepting you got fucked is definitely not something you're known for... You're taking losing your star clown better than I thought."

Mammon chuckles in amusement.

"Star clown? I am the star clown. With or without him I'll still make a fuck ton o' money." He nudges her. "With y'er— uh, our ideas and my reinforcement I don't see any issue mate."

[F/n] looked very, very, unconvinced. Mammon thinks for a moment before shrugging.

"At the end of the day you are my most valuable asset after all."

"What a way to make a girl feel special Ammo." Her eyes roll.

Mammon only giggled for a moment, attention immediately stolen upon taking in a familiar scent.

The smell of coffee meets his nose as they walk before the café in his estate. It takes him no time to decide he's in the mood for another cup of coffee.

[F/n] could already tell by the expression on his face. However unconvinced about giving the bug even more caffeine after his last.

Mammon playfully puts on a puppy-eyed expression as he bends town to her level.

He shoves his face in front of hers, frowning, the green glow of his pupils becoming brighter. "C'mon doll, ya'd say no to my lil 'ol face?"

His smaller spider eyes make a show as he frowns with an exaggerated pointed lip.

She sighs, gently pushing his face away. "Enough with the eyes. I'll be right back... Not like you'd let me say no anyways asshole."

Like a cat that ate the canary, Mammon smiles triumphantly as he took a moment to get seated on one of the empty tables outside the shop.

He enjoys the smell of coffee beans while searching in her direction through the large glass windows. He watches her make some hand motions towards the menu.

Letting out a big yawn, he blinks blearily. He could use a nap after all this.

Exploiting his employees was hard work after all.

Mammon observes her pull out her wallet, swiping her card. His smile becomes gentler, enamored at the idea of her willingness to spend her own money on him.

He became increasingly aware the expression he wore, quickly clearing his throat to look more serious.

It takes the café worker a second to hand her the single cup of coffee alongside a paper bag. He waves her goodbye with a bold wink, [F/n] unable to hold her laugh.

Mammon gritted his teeth. He conditioned his employees not to unnecessarily pester him, or her, especially when they were out together. Seems like one of them hadn't learned this yet. He took a mental note.

He was about to get up from his seat until [F/n] audibly shut the door behind her with a small jingle. She takes a seat across from him as he leaned forward and snatched the drink from her hand.

"'Bout fuckin' time cunt." He grumbles.

Mammon takes a sip of the cold coffee, ignoring his irritation as the sweet contents hit his tongue.

Or at least he tried to, the sweetness of it tasting rather dull part in due to his thoughts.

"Was this made by that fuckin' bogan?" He wonders.

His hand tenses, squeezing the drink at his palm slightly.

"I got you this." [F/n] mumbled, scooting the bag towards him.

Mammon snaps his attention towards back towards her, pausing to glance between her then the baggie before fishing through it. He pulls out a small box, opening it to reveal a cream colored pastry.

It takes him a moment to collect his thought.

Confused, he asks, "Why the cake, doll? Ya' know all I wanted was my coffee."

"You were feeling like shit earlier." She puts it simply.

Mammon shifted from the cake to her in his peripheral vision.

She was worried about him. Had him in her mind. Considerate about how he felt, albeit she wouldn't admit it out loud.

He couldn't help but grow a fat smile, genuine smile, as he scoots closer towards her.

"I'm starting to think ya' actually care about me, love." [F/n]'s eyes widen for a second.

She looks away from him, scoffing.

"Don't overthink it. I don't want to deal with you when you're in a mood."

Mammon takes a small bite, savoring the even sweeter taste. Humming with delight, he takes another portion of it with the plastic spoon, leaning forward to bring it to her mouth.

[F/n] glances between the cake and Mammon, who's unashamedly eagerly watching her.

"I-I don't—"

"Ahh don't fuckin' be like that mate. It's good, try it!"

The dragon takes a bite, flushed, as she ate the piece in silent agreement. Her tail sticking to her leg somewhat embarrassed.

He was right, the pastry was fluffy and flavorful. Not that she expected any different, that was the reason why she bought it for him. She would've never anticipated this however.

Another spoonful reaches her lips, she accepts it without complaint this time. Expression easing. Her tail wags behind her in satisfaction.

Mammon carefully scoops more, bringing it to her face once again.

[F/n] quickly swallows the bit already in her mouth, shaking her head this time.

"I bought it for you, I'm eating more of it than you are. You're being a little bit too charitable."

"Yeah but who's to say I'm not getting anythin' out of feeding ya', love?" He dotes.

[F/n] felt the tips of her ears warm, tail flicking.

Mammon soaks in her flush, turning to take another sip of his coffee. His eyes follow the direction of his lips for a glance before returning at her image.

He freezes for a moment, brows furrowing. Mammon checks the cup again to ensure he saw it correctly. [F/n] immediately notices his expression drop and leans over to see the source.

A phone number was written just under her name with a heart.

"Aw how cute!"

Mammon gags. "Cute?!"

"Yeah, first time someone has done that for me. It's kinda sweet!" [F/n] reaches for the cup, Mammon hisses as he holds it further away.

"Doll, there's no bloody way you're actually interested in this cunt. He's some fuckin' nobody workin' below minimum wage!"

"Oh please, you sound jealous, he was really n—!"

Mammon immediately crushes the cup in his grip, indifferent feeling the coffee spill onto his glove and trickle to the table. He reaches over to grab [F/n]'s extended hand to move it away as he leans towards her features.

His face was centimeters away from hers, sharp breath tickling her features.

"I ain't the sharing type." Mammon growled.

The cup gets engulfed in a green cloud, vanishing as the smoke dissipated. [F/n] glared at the spider, brows furrowed in uncertainty.

He was acting like this again.

"Fucking hell, I didn't want any of your coffee. I just wanted to see the goddamn number."

Mammon blinks, head tilting. He mutters something under his breath as he stands, breaking eye contact.

She thought he was upset over sharing a drink? Far from it, but he wasn't going to clarify if that's the conclusion she came to.

Still holding onto her hand, he strings her up as he gets out of his seat.

"Better ya' don't. This cunt wouldn't even be able to take care of ya'." [F/n] rolls her eyes. Though it didn't go unnoticed, as Mammon grimaced.

"It's impossible to find anyone at all when you scare everyone off." She growls lowly.

"Don't fuckin' hiss at me doll. I'm savin' ya from the embarrassment."

"The embarrassment of what exactly?"

"Of goin' out with the lower class, hells y're considered a knight for the Goetia ain't ya'? Y're not gonna get anythin' worthwhile in some random mutt."

[F/n] swats her tail very irritably, yanking her wrist back forcefully.

A loud tear following in the process.

"I can be with whoever the fuck I want and feel like, I'm not some goddamn princess."

Mammon looks at his glove, seeing as the motion of her pull had tore through the material. It was a reminder of how sharp her scales were.

It wasn't deep enough to cut his actual skin. But the damage on his glove was done. A rush of anger at her defiance. 

He sneers, looking between the café and her short figure. A cloud of green exits through his teeth as he grips her by the neck, lifting her effortlessly to his face.

[F/n] grabs his wrists, squeezing equally as hard, as her wings flutter behind her to give herself some leverage and room to breathe.

She looks genuinely shocked for a moment, though it only took a second for her to regain composure to glare at the sin with bared teeth. Scales began to form on her complexion. 

Mammon stares deeply into her eyes with a menacing smile. His miniature eyes emitting a soft glow.

"REMEMBER Y'R PLACE BENEATH ME BEFORE I REMIND YA'."

He let's her go, watching as she wobbly lands on her feet.

I gust of wind hits his face as she flapped her wings to soften the fall. The scales that covered her face immediately erase as the tension breaks with a longer sharp inhale of air.

They had instantly gained the attention of everyone around them if they hadn't already, silence deafening.

[F/n] felt humiliated. Hurt. Used.

Defeated, for once.

"I don't fuckin' pay ya to run 'round with y'r bitch hormones. I hired ya' to serve me and me only."

[F/n] bites her lower lip, her claw reaching up to feel where his met her throat.

That was the first time he'd ever grabbed her like that. Sure he'd scream and threaten her before, even swung at her at times however each time he did so slow enough to miss.

He'd chuck random items in reach sometimes knowing she could just dodge or fly out of the way.

It never crossed further than that.

Now to be grabbed by the neck? That was new.

The trace of his hand lingered warningly as she tried to sooth over her bruised skin.

She looked up at him, tail tucked in between her legs.

He would only ever harm people he saw replaceable. His subordinates. The realization came crashing down on her incredibly hard.

He could've just as easily killed her in that moment, snapped her neck and that would've been it.

Did their history mean nothing to him? 

What changed?

"Fuck you..." It came as a whisper.

Unsure of whether he heard that or not, he chose to ignore it either way in favor of her tail.

He pointed at it, releasing a laugh as if it was the most amusing thing he'd seen.

It felt nauseating. One moment he was warm: the next, cruel.

Despite all the time spent, she concluded he never saw her as anything further than another form of entertainment.

An animal he can poke and prod for a reaction. Even in her state of shock all he did was laugh. The sound echoed in her head.

A familiar tone rings, buzzing. And Mammon instantly snaps out of his laughter.

He fishes through his pocket to pick up his phone.

His alarm was going off.

"Ahh fuckin' bitch— meeting is about to start." He groans, recovering quickly.

"C'mere." He demands, forgiving the glare she shot at him as he pulled her arm so forcefully she knew she'd bruise.

Mammon teleports the two of them into his office.

The jiggles of coins chime as he lands into his web, [F/n] perched beside him.

Her eyes widen slightly, trying to adjust herself in a better position. She tugs on one of her wings stuck into the webbing with an irritated scowl. He quickly removed the damaged glove and snaps a new one in its place out of thin air.

Mammon, who's busy with a drumstick he seemingly pulled from nowhere, nonchalantly untangles her wing in a simple swipe.

He stops chewing for a second to give her a toothy smirk: [F/n] returning a huff.

"Oh come off it will ya', ya' bitch?"

"We need to talk."

Mammon, who doesn't give it any thought, takes another bite of his food.

"More bitchin'." He imagines.

"Some other time."

[F/n] looks away from him, curling her tail around her leg to try and provide some sort of self comfort. She felt disappointed.

Despite all the breakthroughs made in their partnership, he still treated her like an object. His object. Something he was free to do whatever he wanted to. Truth be told, it stung deeply.

It was the only thing she could think about lately.

There was no denying Mammon grew incredibly on her, she only wished he felt the same in return. Maybe then he wouldn't be so needlessly mean.

Was it something she did? Something she didn't do?

There was no point in even thinking about it, [F/n] didn't want to be embarrassed again. She refused.

Security open the doors of his office, and in come a small group of incubi.

The one leading the group takes a quick bow before the two, tipping his hat while smiling on his way up.

Both watch as they fill the room, trotting with some briefcases in hand. The thumps of their boots semi-absorbed into the carpet they walked on.

"What an honor to see Mammon and his little butterfly, even more so present our wonderful idea to." He starts, slowly pacing left and right.

"We all know about the massive, massive, slaughter that came of the drakon specie during the first war with heaven. Terrible thing really." He smirks.

[F/n] raises her brow, crossing her arms further.

"A bigger shame would be to allow the fun of them go." The incubus pulls out his phone to project a screen before them.

[F/n] and Mammon look less than impressed.

"I present to you the dragon dildo, made with real dragon scales! The synthetic crap can't compare to this." He chuckles, arms extended either way.

The incubi look impressed by their own work. "Dragon scales are the hardest material in all of hell. This thing would be fucking indestructible! It's every horny sinner's dream!"

Mammon yawns, waving a finger.

"And how exactly are ya' going to farm real scales? There's hardly a handful of drakons in all o' hell left mate n' the survivors are all considered royalty."

"Well my good sir, that's where we were hoping you would come in. Seeing as you already possess one of them. I'm sure the king of greed wouldn't mind parting with it in turn for a greater profit."

[F/n] leans out of her seat, seething at the disrespectful implication. "Are you stupid or suicidal?"

The incubus hands one of his partners the briefcase, who held it sideways.

"Oh but my dear, you are very valuable. Your title as knight is only a benefit you see. You can be a brand on its own with how infamous your status was."

He starts unclipping the handles of the case.

"My title was granted to me because of how efficient I was in fighting angels. You— I'd MOP the floor with you."

Mammon tugs her back onto his side. His expression doesn't say much, however, the hand planted around her thigh possessively said it all.

"Y're gonna die for wastin' my time." He snarls, grinning wildly.

Mammon snaps his fingers and in rushes his security of robot Fizzarollis.

[F/n] felt him squeeze her thigh as he presses her deeper into his side. Her initial anger melting as her heart beats faster in reaction. [F/n] stares up at him, his image burning into her mind.

Her hand rested on his chest— able to feel his warmth, his breathing, it felt too intimate.

She felt his heartbeat at her fingertips, beating a tad bit faster than usual.

Then, she remembered. She thought his claim over her was nothing more than superficial, for looks, all this to keep her obedient and lull her back into his claws until the next time she slightly agitated him.

She looks back at the group, frowning.

"Shame, really. I was hoping you'd cooperate for your sake." The incubi frowns.

He opens his briefcase, incubi's devilish smile doesn't go unnoticed.

[F/n], unable to say anything in time, connects two and two as a familiar glint reflects off the metal brandished.

Breaking out of Mammon's grasp, she straddles him and extends her wings— covering as much of him as she possibly could.

A glowing bullet hits [F/n] directly the bend of her wing, the jolt of pain sucking the wind out of her as she slips onto Mammon's stomach.

The incubi's angelic revolver smokes at the barrel.

Security tackles the gunman.

They struggle to get each of his henchmen into cuffs, but with increasing numbers it quickly becomes apparent the gunman along with his goons has no chance.

Mammon immediately moves to shield [F/n] with his body, placing her onto the web. They both look at wound, [F/n] hissing as she tries to stretch her injured wing.

"Fuck— A-Are ya' alright? I didn't think..."

"I'm fine Ammo, he just nailed my joint. That's it." She interrupted, groaning.

His face turns between her injury and her expression several times. He looked worried. His eyes glossed. 

[F/n] frowns.

Electricity flies off of Mammon, turning to look at the commotion behind him. Panic quickly turns into rage as he bursts out of his confined costume with a deafening yell.

The room fills with green.

Sounds of screaming immediately follow.

Mammon smashes some of the incubi into the floor, completely crushed under his weight. He makes sure to smear them in, grinning like a Cheshire cat as he does so.

Those unfortunate enough not to cease on impact were left wailing in agony: taking a fistful of the carpet in a hopeless attempt to pull themselves away with a gaping hole going through their back to their stomach..

It was messy.

The blood from their bodies popped similarly to that of water-balloons. It was a gross, alleviating sight. [F/n] could take comfort knowing sinners like these wouldn't be able to come after her again.

After having his fun, Mammon darts his head towards the remaining incubus.

His mini spider eyes radiated a toxic green as he slinked over. The two robo-fizzies who had captured him meekly raised him towards Mammon: who instantly snatches the man and brings him towards his eye level.

"PLEASE N—"

"B̴͍͚̀E̴̯̘̊G̴͈͍͝ ̸̯̩̌F̸͖̗̈́Ò̸͉́Ṛ̶̪͆ ̶͓̑͒Y̷̥͌͂Ŏ̴̖̩̒U̷̲̳͆͌Ṙ̶̟̂ ̸̦͓͂L̶͍̺̈́Ḯ̸̬F̶̨͓͋̅E̵̩̦̋."

Before even giving him the chance, his please come strangled into whispers as Mammon squeezes him in his fist.

He exhales a large green cloud onto his pitiful expression as he attempts to gasp for air, coughing violently in response. A crack erupts.

Mammon drops him to the floor, watching as he contorted with a deafening scream. Observing him cry for a moment: he does the same as he dealt with the ones previously, popping him like an unwanted pimple.

His breathing labored, the high coming down upon realizing he was the last of the group.

Mammon raises one of his bloodied spider legs out of a fresh carcass, inspecting it, grumbling something under his breath.

The security group of robo-fizzies seem unsure on how to proceed, each of them timidly watching awaiting orders.

"The fuck are ya' looking at? Get this cleaned up NOW!" He roared.

The robots scrambled, tumbling over each other as they struggled to organize themselves.

Mammon slinks back towards [F/n], expression instantly softening.

She lets out a whine, yanking out the glowing particle as the pain of it courses through her back. "Gods fuck that hurt..." [F/n] bit her tongue, aimlessly tossing the bullet at the floor.

"Shit, let's go get ya' patched up beautiful." He mumbles, taking her carefully into his arms as if she'd shatter entirely at the slightest bump.

"Fucking— OW!"

"Ahh can ya' fuckin' hold still for a minute mate!?"

Mammon quickly wraps a thick webbing around her wing, using a splint to keep it straight in place.

[F/n] squirms, suppressing the acid-ball forming at her throat. Mammon makes his final wrap as he sticks the web onto itself, hands gently caressing her wing.

He sighs.

Neither of them say anything for a moment. The silence deafening as the reality of the situation sinks in.

He frowns, gently letting go of his work.

Moving to cup her cheek as he turns her expression towards him even gentler, afraid he would somehow shatter her.

"Why the face? What's the matter beautiful?"

There it was, again, the rapid beating of her heart over his artificial pet names.

"Nothing. Just... I can't fucking believe I got shot right in the elbow." She mumbles, sparing a glance at his handiwork on her wing.

"Normally my scales are able to tank angelic bullets... Maybe I'm becoming weak." [F/n] sighed.

"I, uh, well ya'know... That bullet would'a sent me to the bloody hospital. Cunt aimed for my head." Mammon swallows.

He drags a finger under the fabric of his neck, pulling on it momentarily.

"And honestly... I think y're the only bloody demon crazy enough who'd ever do anything like that for me."

He strokes the webbing gingerly, feeling the material brush against the rest of her scales. He paused.

Mammon tenses slightly as he rehearsed his next sentence in his mind dozens of times, feeling awkward as the very unfamiliar phrase leaves his tongue.

"So —uh— I appreciate ya' more than ya' think..."

It falls silent as her face hues.

Though it doesn't bother him remotely, continuing to massage around the bend of her wing.

If only he were consistently like this. Then it would make the signs so much more visible.

Visible he actually wanted her.

[F/n] swallows thickly, doing her best to calm the trot in her chest. She knew despite everything if she could go back in time she wouldn't change the outcome of it.

Even in the chaos of it all she cared too deeply about him to imagine him hurt. With that, the wave of knowing she completely lost to him finally came crashing down on her.

Their game of chess was finally concluded, he won, and that's why she needed to get out.

"Mammon we really need to talk."

Her wing pulls away from his petting, curling back into its usual space. He seemed disappointed as the warmth of her injured limb left his grasp.

"What about?"

Her lips quiver, the frown on her expression breaking through the poker face she tried to maintain. Her eyes water, tail curling.

She thinks of all of their mishaps together. To when she first agreed to work with him, their first banter, their first success together, how they progressively got more and more comfortable with each other.

She went from someone behind the scenes to being his only companion. He was a hothead, but so was she. But their differences felt too great: the hot and cold treatment was driving her crazy.

"We need to end our contract."

Mammon blinked. Frozen.

He slowly clenches his fists impossibly hard.

"Why? Was it because o' that fuckin' incubus? Y-Ya' watched me kill 'em. I promise next time I—"

"It's not that. None of that."

"Then what is it? Fuck changed?"

"Mammon as much as I love being here with you and working alongside you, I just can't be around you anymore."

It was obvious he didn't understand, his pause with unsure searching eyes sought to try and read the static expression she did her best to maintain. 

"I'm sorry."

Mammon felt himself burn. He felt his insides ignite with such intense desperation with a feeling he didn't entirely recognize.

Even knowing her more basic tasks could be given to someone else to fill just as easily did nothing to reassure him.

Hells he didn't feel this lost when Fizz quit his position. He got over that so insanely fast. It was deeper than that.

This was the only person he remotely cared about in all of hell resigning.

The idea felt so unreal.

"I'm so sorry." [F/n] repeated.

The click of her boots echo as she walked towards the double doors of his bedroom. Like a whisper, she faded.

Mammon watches as her tail hovers just above the ground. Immediately noting how she didn't just drag it as she normally would. The low rattle it'd make was erased, as if she wanted to create the least bit of noise possible.

Why? Did he scare her?

Nonsense. She was the only one who wouldn't cave to his ridiculous disrespect despite his threats. And though it did get in his nerves initially, it grew on him and made everything in his life new again.

He enjoyed hearing her voice.

Hearing her talk about frivolous, nonsensical, shit. Enjoyed observing the smallest things about her.

Like the way she would hide the joy in her expression but unable to maintain the same façade in her eagerly wagging tail.

Or the way her wings would flutter for a second whenever she was blushing.

Or when she would get too excited her hair would pulse the color of her element. And how whenever she's extremely upset her clear complexion starts forming scales as if she were ready to morph.

Or how she sometimes has difficulty not tearing clothes due to the sharpness of her claws. She would always let out a loud groan and a few swears before deciding if it were salvageable.

He felt electricity course through his body. His eyelid twitching.

[F/n] hugged herself, shutting the door behind her as she power walked through his manor.

She used her sleeve to wipe away the tears before they could spill. Quietly whimpering to herself to alleviate the ache in her chest.

She doesn't get very far however, before snapping out of her emotions as a loud bang interrupts her.

[F/n] points her gaze backwards, watching the doors fly open while cracking at the force of his push.

"OUR CONVO AIN'T OVER!"

She backs up hesitantly as Mammon runs at her. The thumping of his soles grew louder, seemingly indifferent at the idea he may trample her.

Clouds of swamp green smoke exit through his teeth. He halts just before her, punching a hole through the wall next to them to release his rage. Chips of brick and dust recoil along with his fist.

"You— YA' THINK YA' CAN JUST JOG OFF?" He growled, leaning down as he stared at her.

"Whatever idea ya got in that pretty lil' head o' yours, toss it. I won't break our contract. You are MINE."

[F/n] sighed, eyebrows furrowed as she shook her head at him.

"You don't get it." Her disbelief erases as her head comes to point towards his.

She snaps her fingers and out manifests a golden sheet between them with both their signatures held within the bottom. 

"It's written agreement in our contact that only requires the consent of one party to break it."

Mammon felt a drop of sweat come down his neck.

He froze. The pain grew.

And she was right, the section she was referring to glowed faintly among the rest of the text as she highlighted it. Demanifesting as she withdrew her hand.

"A rule you imposed since you were initially skeptical about my performance in your estate."

"I- I... Fuckin'..."

It goes silent.

The rush of anger evaporated from his body with the sparks. Feeling at a loss on what to say, Mammon swallows thickly as he blinks.

He reaches a hand to clutch the material over his chest, squeezing it.

His gaze eventually trails back to hers.

His mind returns to the thought of massive their height difference was. She was so small compared to him. It made his heart chirp. His hand comes up to erase the flustered look looming on his features.

Mammon recollects himself as best he can in a pathetic attempt. He brushes his hat shakily, the bells chiming as the material bounced back.

"So then tell me why—?"

[F/n] growls, pressing her claws into her palm.

"STOP!" She shouts at him, quickly wiping away at the corner of her eyes. "D-Don't make this needlessly complicated."

Again with the tears, only this time she couldn't prevent them.

Mammon frowned, reaching out to her. He wanted to console her, wipe away those tears. It pained him knowing he was the source.

The tip of his index finger brushed against her cheek unable to get far.

[F/n] swatted away his hand. And that hurt him.

"You fucking... g-goddamnit you fucking dumbass... Can't you see what's going on?" She hissed stomping a few steps away from him.

"I fell so hard for you, and it fucking blows because I can't just have you." She turned towards him.

[F/n] gestures to herself angrily through her cries. "Do you fucking get it now?! I'm in LOVE with you— that's why I need to get the hell away from you. I want to be something more to you but you'll only ever see me as your subordinate."

She shouted, adrenaline coursing through only heighted by her emotional outburst.

Mammon grabs her despite her struggling with his lower pair of hands, leaning over and forcing her to allow him to clean her face.

He absorbs her tears through the material of his upper pair of gloves with gentle strokes.

She grips his wrists with enough force that'd dislocate them if he were any other sinner. He felt her tremble against him.

How could he not notice her pain before?

How long ago did she start feeling this way?

There was a pool of regrets swimming in his chest and among them the biggest was not erasing her doubts sooner.

"What fuckin' nonsense have ya' been telling y'reself this entire time? I'm smitten with ya' dollface."

"You're a king sin— hell you outed Asmodeus for dating someone beneath him, how am I any different from that? People would think you're a hypocrite."

"Ya' think I give a remote fuck about what these cunts think? I'm the richest fucker in all o' hell, I didn't get here caring about what some bitch thinks o' me. I don't really give a flying shit about Asmodeus fuckin' some circus imp."

[F/n] immediately becomes less resistant to his advance. [E/c] eyes staring up at him in disbelief.

She searched desperately for any indication he was lying.

Mammon cups her jawline.

"I dunno how ya' haven't realized how obsessed I am with ya'... Thought it was reaaal obvious: I mean for fuck's sake I don't wanna be anywhere without ya'. Everything I do is with you." Mammon sighed nervously.

He lifted her in her arms, bringing down his face to gently set his forehead onto hers.

He didn't entirely recognize it before, but now that the cat was out of the bag it was so painfully apparent.

Everything he did was by her, to her, and for her. He found himself more temperamental and bored in the situations he had to exist without her. The cogs in his head finally spun, blushing for a mere moment as he finally admitted it out loud. 

"I'm obsessed with ya princess. I'm fuckin' crazy over you."

If her heart pounded any faster she was sure she'd pass out.

Her eyes glued to the tiny white slits in the sea of bright green within his eyes.

They both glance down at each other's lips then back at their gaze.

Immediately realizing what the other was doing, they both smash into each other desperately. Mammon felt a firework go off in his head. She was putty in his hands. A little butterfly caught in his web.

He growled.

[F/n] caresses his features, brushing her thumbs over his cheeks and pulling him closer.

A surge of electricity runs through his expression and tickles hers affectionately. It courses her hands and down her arms eagerly. 

Mammon drags his bicolored tongue across her lips, pushing himself in at the slightest gap.

Their tongues dance and with no protest Mammon explores his new territory. Their teeth clatter, Mammon doing his best not to pierce her.

The taste of coffee and pastries still lingered strongly on his saliva. Their tongues dance, aching. It's as if they couldn't get close enough to one another, both feverishly pushing into each other craving every bit of contact the other could provide.

Pleased with her submission, he makes way back into his room.

Massaging her ass with his upper pair of hands and grabbing onto her heels with the other. [F/n] releases a muffled moan.

Mammon breaks the kiss first, glancing at the spirit trail that still connected them. He licks the drool from his lips, savoring their long overdue tension-breaker.

He steals a few more pecks before taking a seat on his bed, holding onto her. He brushed a strand of her [h/c] hair out of her face.

Mammon chuckled softly, enamored with the bright hue on her complexion: gaze hungry.

Mammon stares at her. Unmoving. As his breathing very audibly becomes heavier.

It takes him a painful few seconds to snap out of his own trance.

"As much as I wanna fold ya' in my bed and have ya' take care of my stiffy— y're injured and need to rest princess."

"Oh come the fuck on Ammo, I'm fine!" [F/n] pouts, huffing while trying to feel him up through his clothes.

She slinks downwards to attempt and grind against the growing tent underneath his layers of clothes to entice him.

Mammon with every bit of self control in his body, has none of it, interwinding her hands into his instead with force as he pulls her back up to steal another peck.

"I love y're excitement but I will hurt you."

"You're no fun."

"You'll fuckin' get what you want later... Needy whore."

He scoots closer into bed.

Mammon snaps his fingers. A puff of green surround both of them, clearing quickly to reveal he had changed them into their sleepwear. He smiles softly.

His blanket flies over them as he adjusts more comfortably, plopping [F/n] on his chest.

[F/n] coils into a ball, purring happily while nuzzling herself into the crook of his neck. She quickly settles. His hand reaches to pet her hair lovingly, listening patiently as her purring gradually became more distant overtime until she drifted off entirely. 

Mammon sighed with satisfaction, captivated, only then closing his eyes. "Y're gonna stay mine forever."