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devildomditzy · 5 days ago

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↫↫↫↫↫ 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯' '𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 ↬↬↬↬↬ short ‘n’ sweet part III, om!mammon x f!reader, 18+

C L I C K H E R E for series masterlist!

// now playing: espresso by sabrina carpenter

// synopsis: mammon hasn’t stopped thinking about you since you kissed him, and tonight he can’t stop blowing up your phone. one minute you’re having a girls’ night with your bestie, and now he says he can’t sleep. oh baby, you know - and after years of pining, you certainly aren’t about to turn him down when he shows up to your room looking like that. clearly, you’re not the only one who can relate to desperation…

// content warnings: bsf’s brother, strong language, brief section of smau, smut, oral sex (mouth on vulva), fingering, p-in-v sex, use of petnames like "pretty," "baby," "babygirl," use of "brat," heavy back-and-forth teasing, creampie (with dubcon), biting, praise, lite spanking, lite dacryphilia

Y O U may not have remembered it happening… but that one kiss changed everything.

One day, Mammon was never home - and the next, he seemed to be everywhere you looked.

When you were playing games with Levi in the living room, he was hovering over the couch, causing you to lag horribly behind in Mario Kart.

When Levi and Thirteen were spending the night at your place, suddenly Mammon needed to borrow something - a spice from your mom’s cooking cabinet, a screwdriver from your dad’s toolkit. Before long, he had crashed on your couch, too, blending seamlessly into your friend group.

Not only that, but Mammon was always finding places to brush up against you in the most suggestive ways: leaning across your bare cleavage to grab the remote; touching the place where your top rode up your hip as he reached for a snack from the cabinet.

Sometimes, when Levi wasn’t looking, he even brushed a stray hair off your forehead or plucked a piece of fuzz off your shoulder, leaving a blazing trail of burning-hot skin in his wake.

And then there were the texts.

When you had just walked into Levi’s house, wearing an oversized tee and fitted bike shorts… when you snuck into their kitchen for a snack… and when the night was over, and it was long past time for everyone to go to bed…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You spent an entire week glued to your phone before Thirteen decided she’d had enough.

“How long are you two going to go back and forth like this?!” she snapped, yanking the unlocked device from your hands.

“...I don’t know,” you mumbled, shifting awkwardly in your seat as you avoided eye contact.

Thirteen raised your cell phone overhead, giving it a few threatening shakes. Even as she held it out of reach, it continued to buzz with Mammon’s messages.

“Make a move,” she urged, “or I’ll do it for you.”

As if the heavens had been listening, your phone started to ring.

Mammon’s caller ID photo flashed on the screen: an ancient and blurry Snapchat; one where he’d zoomed all the way in on his face and applied the dog filter.

You glanced at the clock on your nightstand: 1:02 AM.

Why the hell would Mammon be calling at this hour?

Thirteen gave you a knowing look, her thumb hovering over the ‘answer’ button. You stared back meaningfully.

“You wouldn’t dare,” you hissed.

Thirteen raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I absolutely would.”

You leapt to your feet and lunged toward the phone, Thirteen yanking it just out of reach. She switched the phone between her hands. Finally, you tackled her to the bed in a throng of devious giggles and flailing limbs.

By the time you got your hands on the phone, Thirteen had already accepted the call.

Mammon’s voice echoed into the ether: “Hey, brat?... Y/n, are ya there?”

Thirteen watched you attentively, flashing you a cruel smile as you raised the phone to your ear with a glare.

“...hey,” you panted. “Sorry about that.”

Mammon was quiet for a long moment. You rolled onto your back and stared at the ceiling, allowing your heart rate to slow after the impromptu wrestling match.

Finally, he broke the silence.

“Are ya alone?” Mammon asked. “I wanna talk to ya about somethin’...”

You flashed a panicked look at Thirteen. She pressed a finger to her lips, then mimed locking her mouth and throwing away the key.

“...yeah, I’m alone,” you lied, rolling to face the wall. “What’s up?”

“Actually, uh…” Mammon trailed off, almost…

Nervously?

No, you had to be imagining things. Mammon didn’t get nervous - especially not around you.

“...I was hopin’ we could talk in person,” he admitted. “I’m right outside. Can I come up?”

“You’re outside?” you repeated - mostly for Thirteen’s sake.

And, never one to disappoint, her jaw dropped emphatically in response.

“...but it’s so late,” you protested. “And my parents are home.”

Even though it was only Mammon, you still felt strangely embarrassed - to be living in your parents’ house in your mid-twenties.

“I know…” Mammon trailed off. Tentatively, he continued, “I, uh, saw their light on.”

There was another long pause before Mammon said, “Look out the window.”

You flashed Thirteen a look of confusion as you stood up and leaned across the windowsill to peek through the gossamer curtains.

Surely enough, Mammon was standing below the big oak tree in your front yard…looking somewhat tortured, but still just as good as ever. He wore black joggers and a white v-neck tee that highlighted his golden tan and chiseled chest; his messy silver hair looked like it was still damp from the shower, as if he had raced here on a whim.

And, of course, he was still wearing the same gold necklace he never took off.

Panicking, you closed the curtain and turned your back to the window. Your heartbeat throbbed violently in your ears, drowning out all thoughts of anything but him…

“So,” Mammon asked pointedly, “are ya gonna let me come up or what?”

Anxiously, you looked to Thirteen for your answer. She was already pulling on her shoes - and, through an impressive repertoire of thinly-veiled gestures, strongly encouraging you to give him a reply.

“Just… give me five minutes,” you finally sighed. “I’ll leave the window open.”

Without hesitation, you hung up the phone - and immediately threw it across the room with a pained yelp, as if it were poisonous to the touch.

Your thoughts spilled out like word vomit:

“He can’t come up here!” you blurted. “I haven’t showered in two days. I have crumbs under my fingernails. I’m not even wearing pants.”

Thirteen laughed, dusting off her jacket. “Oh, honey. I think we’re way past the time for pants, don’t you?”

You flashed her a look of panic and disbelief. Still wearing the same knowing smile, Thirteen walked up to you and gave you a once-over. She licked her thumb, smoothed down a few of your runaway hairs, and patted you fondly on the cheek.

“I promise you look great,” Thirteen reassured. “He’ll think so, too.”

You cocked an incredulous eyebrow. “Really?”

Smiling, Thirteen shook her head, turning to unlatch your window.

“He texts every ten seconds, he calls when you don’t answer right away…let’s just say, I don’t think he cares what you’re wearing.”

You furrowed your brow, watching in uncertainty as she swung her leg over the windowsill.

After years of pathetic pining and unrequited love, you weren’t sure whether you could believe her or not…

But once Thirteen jumped out that window, you knew that was it. Soon, you would have your answer.

“Call me tomorrow!” Thirteen called over her shoulder with a grin. “And use protection!”

You groaned and buried your head in your hands.

“Just… go.”

Thirteen gave you an enthusiastic salute before making the leap from the window to the tree. You didn’t watch so much as hear her make her way down, listening as her combat boots padded softly along the tree’s bark before thudding gracefully onto the ground.

You watched with burning anticipation as Mammon vaulted over the windowsill in her place, his black Nikes landing softly on your bedroom carpet. His bronzed cheeks flushed as he plucked a stray twig out of his hair and tossed it back outside.

For a long moment, you shared in each other’s silence. Then…

“Hey,” Mammon said.

You gulped.

“...hey.”

"I can't sleep," he admitted.

"Oh." You blinked at him, unsure how to respond.

What you wanted to say was, why are you here?

Instead, what came out was, "...sorry, I guess."

Mammon awkwardly rubbed his neck and continued, “We need to talk.”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, “I got that from your phone call.”

You perched on the edge of the bed, while Mammon leaned against the open window.

“So…” You trailed off meaningfully. “What did you wanna talk about?”

Mammon sighed and ran a hand through his mussed silver waves. He looked almost…troubled.

He spoke carefully, as if struggling to choose his words: “There’s… something I need to tell ya.”

Your stomach somersaulted as he met your gaze for the first time that night, blue eyes wide and vulnerable. Despite knowing him practically your entire lifetime, you had never seen him wear this expression before.

“...okay,” you said tentatively, folding your hands in your lap. “What is it?”

Mammon blinked at you like he had just learned you didn’t know how to read.

“Ya really don’t know?”

You shrugged innocently, raising your eyebrows in a silent demand to know more.

“Jeez, Y/n.” Mammon snorted and turned away, kicking at a stray ball of crumpled paper that had been sitting underneath your desk. “I know yer wearin’ glasses, but ya can’t possibly be that blind…”

A sigh of frustration escaped your lips as you self-consciously adjusted your frames.

“Off to a strong start,” you deadpanned.

Mammon groaned, whirling over his shoulder to face you and making sweeping gestures with his hands as he spoke.

“Okay, sorry, sorry!” he fumbled. “Ya just… yer makin’ me nervous.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” you scoffed, crossing your arms defensively.

“I’m bein’ serious!” Mammon exclaimed, beginning to pace back and forth.

After a few restless laps, he crossed the room in two long strides and grabbed your hand by the wrist. “Here! Feel my heart.” Mammon pressed your open palm to his chiseled pec. “It’s fuckin’ racing.”

You bashfully avoided eye contact as you felt the rhythmic thudding of his heartbeat, the reassuring glow of warmth within his body - and his penetrating blue gaze boring holes into your skin.

“Was there a point to that, or did you just want me to feel you up?” you teased halfheartedly, trying to conceal your mounting nerves.

You were acutely aware that your hand had lingered on his chest far too long… but Mammon made no moves to release your wrist.

In fact, his iron grip on your arm tightened as he frowned down at you.

“You could show a little more sympathy, ya know,” Mammon chided, cheeks blushing. “Ya got me shittin’ bricks over here.”

You searched his eyes for any clue as to what he was trying to do here…but for probably the first time in your life, you were unable to read the boy next door.

“Just…get to the point already,” you huffed in frustration, indignantly pulling your wrist away.

Your arm still tingled with goosebumps in all the places where his fingertips had grazed your skin. Mammon’s eyes grew wide with an unfamiliar anxiety as his thoughts finally bubbled over.

“I like you!” he blurted, turning to hide his reddened face against your wall full of 2010s boyband posters. “Happy?!”

The world suddenly moved in slow motion. At a snail’s pace, you lifted your gaze from the floor, blinking at him like a deer in headlights.

Mammon still couldn’t allow himself to spare a glance in your direction. Your brain jumped to the worst conclusion - that maybe, he couldn’t bring himself to look at you because he didn’t want to let you down.

You let out a shaky breath. “Look, Mammon…”

Hesitantly, you rose to your feet and took a few steps toward his perch at the windowsill.

“...I know we’ve been texting a lot lately, and I don’t want to get the wrong idea,” you continued, your voice growing stronger the longer you spoke.

“So, if you’re just saying that because you feel bad for stringing me along… there’s no need to lie about your feelings.” Your posture stiffened. “I can take it.”

Your hands balled into fists at your sides, bracing for his sagging shoulders and relieved response…

Instead, what you got was pure hellfire.

Mammon whirled around and shouted, “Let ya down?! Ya really think I climbed a tree at one o’clock in the mornin’ to let ya down?!” He let out a maniacal laugh as he nervously paced the room. “Holy shit, you’re even dumber than I am…I love you, ya fuckin’ idiot!”

Your knees turned to jelly as the room began to spin, the floor seeming to give out beneath you.

“You…love me?”

Mammon couldn’t possibly have meant that… could he?

Sneakily, you gave yourself a tiny pinch on the thigh to check if you were dreaming - but it was of no use. Either you were very dead… or this was very, very real.

Mammon suddenly faced you with an earnest expression, looking like a deer caught in headlights - or a man confessing to the love of his life.

“Christ, brat,” he said, the edges of his words softening slightly. “Don’t make me say it again.”

Your hands quaked nervously at your sides as you managed to voice a faint reply.

“...that wasn’t a funny joke.”

Mammon let out a sardonic cackle as he snorted, “Well, ya won’t see me laughin’ about it!”

Now, fueled by the adrenaline of his sudden admission, it was your turn to pace the room.

“No…no,” you mumbled to yourself, bouncing between the walls like a pinball. “Absolutely not. This isn’t right.”

Mammon furrowed his brow and grumbled, “What part of me bein’ in love with you isn’t right?”

“The part where you don’t get to say that to me!” you snapped, whirling around to chastise him face-to-face.

“Say what?” Mammon scoffed, crossing his arms.

“That you’re in love with me!”

Mammon shrank the gap between you with a single, threatening step. There could be no more than a foot left between his chest and yours.

“Well, I am in love with ya - so why the hell shouldn’t I say it?!” he retorted… so close you could feel his breath sizzling on your skin.

You resisted the urge to press an accusatory finger into his sternum…or to grab fistfuls of his shirt and yank his lips toward your own.

“-because you don’t really mean it!” you exploded.

At these words, Mammon took a reflective step backward, wincing like a kicked puppy.

His words were barely a whisper when he spoke.

“...and what makes ya think I don’t mean it?”

“Oh, please,” you deadpanned. “You kissed another girl just a few days ago!”

Mammon rolled his eyes. “I already told ya, Y/n, she kissed me!”

“It doesn’t matter! It’s the principle of the thing!” you shrieked. “You can’t just stand here wearing your…your fuckboy joggers and your generic gold chain and expect me to swoon just because you said you’re sorry.”

“So, now ya think my necklace is ‘generic?’” he sneered.

You laughed humorlessly. “Out of everything I said, that’s the part you want to address?”

Mammon shook his head, a few loose waves falling into his eyes. He reached around to unlatch the chain at the back of his neck as he closed the distance between you.

“Do ya really not remember?” he asked.

You rolled your eyes. “Remember what?”

The clasp opened, the gold dog tags falling into Mammon’s hand. Looking away with a flustered expression, he shoved his open palm toward you face-up.

“Just…look.”

Upon closer inspection, you realized the tags Mammon wore every day were engraved. You could just barely make out the faded cursive font that read, ‘This isn’t goodbye - just see you later,’ followed by a date that was almost a decade ago to the day.

Your heart sank into your stomach as you realized you had seen this chain before...

In fact, you had spent months saving up money from your summer job scooping ice cream to buy him it as a going-away present for college.

“I gave you this as a graduation gift,” you murmured, gingerly running your fingers over the grooves of the engraving.

Mammon gazed down at the treasure with a quiet reverence. His fingers curved protectively over the edges of the tags. “This is the first time I’ve taken ‘em off in ten years.”

It said more than ‘I love you’ ever could.

You gazed up at him, tears beading at the corners of your eyes. You placed your domed hand on top of his, safely covering the chain inside.

“Can I help you put it back on?” you asked, your voice cracking a little.

The corner of Mammon’s lip tugged gently upwards as he nodded. You took the chain from his palm and gestured at him to sit down on the bed.

It was the second time he had been in your bed in the month since you had come home - and somehow, he looked both out of place and perfectly matched against the background of Hello Kitty sheets and giant stuffies.

You cleared your throat and sat down behind him, admiring the sinews of his back through the thin material of his white t-shirt.

Your hands shook slightly as you reached over his shoulders to arrange the necklace just so. You forced yourself to steady your grip as you pinched the clasp between your fingertips a few times.

Finally, you managed to fix the jewelry into place - but you had to admit that you were reluctant to let go. Instead of pulling your hand away, you allowed your fingertips to gently trace the curve of his spine, watching the hairs on the back of his neck raise in response; listening to the way his breath hitched in his throat.

Maybe it was too forward...

Maybe you didn’t care.

Your hand finally reached the place where his seat met the mattress. You released a breath you hadn’t known you were holding as your hand dropped.

Silently, you rose to your feet… but as you turned to create distance between you and him, Mammon seized you by the wrist and pulled you back in. He shifted his stance so he was facing you, opening his thighs to make room for your body as his arms settled around your lower back.

You looked down into his oceanic blue eyes, hypervigilant of the fact that his lips were just inches from your own. He gazed up at you earnestly through long lashes, those same old gold tags glinting in the light of your bedside lamp.

“What’re ya waitin’ for, brat?” Mammon murmured affectionately, kneading his hands into your legs in a way that made your senses tingle.

He broke into a smirk as he continued teasingly, “It’s not like it’s the first time you’ve kissed me.”

You were close enough to see the faint sheen of saliva that glazed his plush lower lip. He smelled like a delicious concoction of spearmint gum and spiced cologne, like a love potion brewed especially for you.

Instinctively, your body relaxed in his arms, closing the last few inches between you two. The gummy tip of your nose bumped against his own, the taste of his breath sweet and tempting as it coated your tongue.

“Just… shut up,” you whispered into Mammon’s mouth, before pressing your lips against his.

Hesitation quickly turned into desperation. Your body melted into his, until you could no longer tell where your limbs ended and his began.

Mammon tangled his hand in your hair and gently fell onto his back, gently guiding you to straddle his body. His palms ghosted the inch of bare skin between your leggings and your panties; his hips arched hungrily into the thinly-clothed space between your thighs, leaving you dripping.

You kissed like you had waited decades to taste each other - because you had.

And you didn’t want to wait a minute longer.

Your shaky hands fiddled clumsily with his waistband.

“Hurry up and take these off,” you grumbled, cheeks burning.

Mammon sat up and cupped your cheek, flashing a grin.

“Not yet,” he retorted. “I’d much rather take my time with ya.”

Mammon leaned forward to nuzzle your neck, sucking and biting at the delicate skin of your collarbone as his fingers toyed experimentally with the hem of your top. It felt good, but slowing down was the opposite of what you wanted…

Because slowing down allowed you the chance to think.

Squirming as his lips massaged your skin, you shyly dodged his attempts to peel off your sweatshirt - suddenly feeling self-conscious about the circumstances; about your appearance; about the poster of Louis Tomlinson staring ominously from your bedroom wall…

You had everything you wanted. The man you had loved your entire life was ready to give you even more.

The only thing wrong with this situation was that soon, he’d realize that you were the one in it.

Realizing your mind was elsewhere, Mammon reached for your hand and squeezed it gently.

His voice was raspy as he whispered against your skin, “Where do ya think yer goin’, hm?”

You scrunched your face and closed your eyes. You squirmed in equal parts arousal and embarrassment. “Now I’m the one who’s nervous.”

He rubbed your palm with his thumb.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Mammon said, making your heart skip a beat.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him as you admitted softly, “I have… a hard time believing you when you say you love me.”

Mammon sighed, tucking his fingers under your chin and tilting your face up to look at his. You slowly blinked your eyes open, his baby-blue gaze shining back earnestly as his other hand snaked around your waist.

“...then why don’t I show ya, instead?”

Greedily, Mammon reached down to pull off your sweatshirt. He furrowed his brow in confusion as you caught him by the wrist.

“...annnd I haven’t showered today,” you admitted sheepishly.

Mammon shook his head and laughed, as if he couldn’t believe you thought he cared.

He leaned down and murmured hungrily into your ear, his voice husky with desire:

“Good…”

Mammon hooked his arms around your thighs and yanked you toward him. Your legs naturally fell open as you fell back onto the pile of fuzzy throw pillows and plushies that christened your bed.

“You’ll taste even better, then.”

Laughing, you hid your face in your hands, halfheartedly pretending to chide him. “Mammon!”

He only grinned, kneading your inner thighs as he shimmied into position between them.

“You can keep the hoodie, anyways,” Mammon said, nipping at your clothed cunt. “I only need these.”

He teasingly hooked his teeth under the lace waistband of your panties, drawing back before allowing it to snap against your mound.

“Smooth,” you huffed, trying to hide that you were already out of breath.

Mammon merely hummed against your covered clit, sending sweet vibrations up your spine. He sucked at your swollen spot over your panties, the moisture of his saliva mingling with your juices to soak the cotton cloth.

You covered your mouth with the back of your hand, stifling your moans with practiced measure. It wasn’t the first time you had snuck a boy into your parents’ house - but none of those juvenile hookups could ever measure up to this.

Mammon snorted at your attempt to hide your pleasure, hot breath blowing out of his nose and warming your throbbing nub.

“Don’t act like yer not lovin’ this,” he goaded. “I’ve seen ya watchin’ my stories at midnight, ya little perv.”

“Ah-!” You whimpered helplessly as Mammon pushed your panties to the side. “Y-you saw that?”

“Of course.” He grinned devilishly, licking his lips. “Why d’ya think I kept postin’ em?”

Before you could say anything, Mammon dragged his tongue from the base of your hole all the way up to your clit, lapping up every last drop of your delicious fluids like a purring kitty savoring its milk. You couldn’t keep yourself from gasping…

As anticipated, this Mammon was so much better than any of your late-night fantasies.

“How’s the real thing, baby?” he coaxed, spreading you open with his hands.

Your voice could only form consonants as Mammon painted sensitive stripes along your pussy lips, his skillful mouth enveloping your center until you pulsed with need. You coated his tongue with your mess, weakly grasping at whatever you could find - his hair, the sheets - as you writhed beneath his ministrations.

“Mmm - that good, huh?” Mammon trilled into your core.

“Better,” you cried softly, arching into his strokes.

Though you sensed he would have been happy to swallow you whole, Mammon reluctantly rose for air - but he wasn’t about to leave you without the stimulation you so desperately craved.

He rubbed you in rhythmic circles with his thumb as he taunted, “Tell me how many times ya touched yerself thinkin’ about this...thinkin’ about us…”

“Probably just as many times as you,” you breathed without hesitation. “Maybe more.”

“No fuckin’ way,” Mammon laughed mirthlessly. “Nobody’s thought about this more than me.”

“Touchin’ ya here…” he cooed, massaging your thighs for emphasis. Mammon smiled as you whimpered, as if on command. “Hearing ya make that noise…tastin’ ya…”

His words tied your intestines in knots. But he wasn’t done yet.

Unable to resist temptation, Mammon descended on your clit once more. His tongue washed over you in drawn-out waves, curling your toes.

“Fuck,” he muttered, licking the sheen of you off his lips. “Yer so sweet. I could drink ya all day…”

Mammon ate pussy in a way that made you believe him.

But you weren’t about to let him know that.

“You’re so… full of shit…” you panted, fisting the blankets beneath you.

Your words were quickly forgotten as Mammon made out with your cunt. The soft hum of his mocking laughter only served to intensify your pleasure.

“Not talkin’ back anymore, are ya, brat?” he teased as he came up for air.

“Shut… up,” you exhaled, your limbs tangling in the sheets as your body ran from his touch.

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Mammon mumbled into your clit - before giving it another stroke that took your breath away. “I don’t like to talk with my mouth full.”

You wriggled sensitively against his tongue, greedy for more.

“When’s it my turn to touch you?”

“Not yet,” Mammon chuckled.

He propped himself up on his elbows. “That was just an appetizer.”

Mammon paused to lick the juices from his lower lip. “Haven’t even had my main course yet.”

You rolled your eyes, half-sitting up.

“Then at least let me look at the menu first,” you complained.

He rose to his knees with a grin, hands already underneath his shirt.

“Anything for you, babygirl.”

Mammon unceremoniously yanked off his shirt - your gold chain dangling against his toned, tan skin. His washboard abs glistened with a faint sheen of sweat already; his muscular thighs flexing beneath his tight joggers.

No matter how much you stared, you couldn’t believe that all of this was yours.

After tossing everything but his boxers to the floor, Mammon leaned forward and pecked you on the lips.

“Turn over,” he ordered, reaching a hand underneath your thigh to roll you onto your knees.

You asked as you started to comply, “What are you- ah!”

Mammon flipped you over without flexing a muscle, grabbing fistfuls of your luscious ass-cheeks in his wide palms. He slid a single digit down your slick cunt until it slipped inside, curling inside of you experimentally as he searched for your weakest point.

“Thought ya might like to try the evenin’ special,” he teased, pressing a kiss to your plump seat.

After a moment of rearranging, the pad of his finger made delicious contact with your g-spot.

You gasped and collapsed your chest onto the pillows, arching your ass as he began to lick you - still pumping his finger inside. “Nng, Mammon-!”

“Look at you.” Mammon smiled against your clit before adding a second digit, your pussy dripping onto the bed with a lewd squelch as he stuffed you full. “Yer so cute wrapped around my fingers.”

“-and you’re so annoying,” you moaned in reply, burying your heated face in the bed.

Pop-

He unlatched his lips from your swollen button and removed his fingers from your cunt, leaving you with an uneasy sensation of emptiness.

Mammon switched to his opposite side, now stuffing three digits inside as he spread the fingers of his free hand.

“Hear that?” Lewd squelching filled the room as his touch shaped your insides. “She’s sayin’ she’s ready.”

It was all you could do not to bust right then and there.

You gasped as Mammon pulled his fingers out of you and brought them immediately to his lips. You watched over your shoulder as he admired your gloss forming stretchy webs between his bronzed appendages.

He dipped his tongue into the sticky precum coating his hand, seductively tasting you - before taking his cock out and stroking it, massaging your slick into his shaft.

Just like the rest of him, his cock was pretty: velvety red-violet, intimidatingly long, but with a slight upward curve that made it the perfect shape for bruising your cervix.

“Condoms are in the drawer-” you started to say…

But Mammon couldn’t wait.

“Sorry, pretty,” he growled, planting his palms on either side of you. “Need to feel ya, now.”

Even though you knew you should be using protection, you couldn’t help but shudder as his raw tip massaged your puffy lips, spreading around his slippery precum.

Every part of you already felt so sensitized from his foreplay that you swore he’d be able to get you off with just a few strokes.

“...ready?” Mammon asked, his voice quivering ever-so-slightly.

For the briefest of moments, you wondered if he felt as nervous as you did.

Eyes wide and glossy, you nodded. Mammon’s breath hitched in his throat with a soft whimper.

“Okay, baby,” he whispered into your ear. “Big stretch…”

Broken gasps spilled from your lips. You quickly forgot your grudge as his throbbing shaft bullied its way past your entrance, your walls spreading to accommodate him more with each gentle push.

Everything…

You could feel everything - every inch; every vein; every pulse.

“That’s my good girl,” Mammon cooed. “Just a bit more...I know ya can take it.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from crying out as slowly, methodically, Mammon bottomed out inside of you. He sighed together with you as he relaxed his hips against the backs of your thighs.

Mammon brushed your hair aside to kiss the back of your neck. “Yer doin’ so good, pretty girl…gonna start movin’ now, okay”

Tears welled in the corners of your eyes from his sweet stretch. Words wouldn’t come out; you could only nod at him over your shoulder.

Mammon drew in a sharp breath and drew his hips back before slamming back into you, his balls swinging against your swollen clit with every movement.

“Mmm- that’s good,” He gradually picked up his pace as he babbled. “Feel the way she’s suckin’ me in? She’s tellin’ me we’re made for each other.”

Thwack, thwack, thwack. The sound of skin slapping skin echoed against your bedroom walls. You clawed at the sheets as your eyelids fluttered shut with each of his rough thrusts.

“Dontcha hear how wet she is f’me?” Mammon talked as he fucked into you from behind. “How she’s moldin’ into the shape of my cock…”

Mammon moaned and impulsively seized a fistful of your hair. His staccato breathing ghosted against the back of your neck as his forearm crossed your neck, locking you in an erotic trap.

“Pretty sure she’s saying you talk too much,” you taunted - even as your pussy flooded around his shaft.

“Shaddup, brat,” he grunted, tightening his grip on your neck until you lost air. “Can’t hear her singin’ over all this noise.”

“Mmf- Mammon! Fuck.”

Craving more of him, you rose onto your knees and straightened your back, so that he could thrust up vertically into your pussy.

“That’s my good girl,” he cooed, nipping at your earlobe. “Gettin’ close already, yeah?”

“-and how would you know?” you scoffed, rolling your hips into his touch.

Mammon grinned cheekily. “‘Cause yer only this quiet when yer enjoyin’ yerself.”

He clung your body close to his, reaching one hand down to massage your breast under your sweatshirt. The other hand slid across your hip to find your clit, swirling around the nub in a tantalizing rhythm that matched the rhythm of his battering ram.

“Ah! M-Mammon, I-” you whined - your words all but forgotten as sparks shot through your core.

“It’s okay, baby-” Mammon reassured, each of his sentences punctuated by a cruel thrust. “-let it all out f’me...”

You were far too needy to keep up the bratty act for long. By now, you were thinking only of cumming with him - of sharing this moment of sensual vulnerability with the man that you loved.

“K-kiss me,” you begged, your voice coming out faint and pathetic. “Please.”

“Whatever my girl wants, she gets,” he murmured, leaning in so close that you felt his breath before his kiss.

Mammon’s nose grazed yours affectionately as he brought his mouth toward yours. He captured your lips with his own, releasing the lock on your neck to cradle your cheek gently in his hands.

“Baby, I’m close-“ you moaned.

Mammon voiced a groan of approval. He pressed his forehead against yours, allowing his lids to flutter closed as your muscles began to twitch.

“Atta girl…hold on tight f’me, alright, pretty?”

He didn’t even give you the chance to answer him before he was meanly pushing your face into the mattress, propping up one leg beside you to angle himself deeper inside.

Drool puddled at the corners of your lips as Mammon piston-thrusted inside of you, turning every last cell of your brain into a pile of mush. He kissed and grabbed at every inch of skin he could find, peppering your skin with faint bite marks and hazy bruises.

Your voice was unrecognizable to you as you cried into the covers: “Fuck, Mammon- I love you, I love you, I love you…I’m gonna cum-!”

“That’s it, baby-” Mammon breathed, his voice hoarse with effort. “Fuuuuck, right there. Got a big load ready just for you, brat. Ya want me to shoot it inside of ya?

“Yes, please,” you whined desperately.

“Mmm- okay then.” Mammon kissed the top of your head, brushing a messy clump of hair from your eyes. “Just don’t say ya didn’t ask for it.”

A few more thrusts and you were both gone, your bodies melding together until you were unsure where you ended and where Mammon began.

All you could see was stars as Mammon painted your walls white, mixing his warm seed into your creamy pussy to create a masterful recipe together. He muffled his own whimpers against your shoulder, leaving imprints of his teeth on your collarbone, as your intermingled tears and slobber puddled onto the pillowcases beneath you.

Your entire body shivered as Mammon collapsed onto your back, planting a kiss on your sweaty shoulder. Beneath him, you turned one cheek to the side, gazing at the digital clock on your nightstand through heavy lids:

2:20 AM, it read.

“Sorry, babe,” he slurred in exhaustion, gazing at the clock over your shoulder. “Think I got a little carried away…”

Mammon smiled sleepily as he rolled onto his back beside you. Though your legs had jellied, you somehow mustered the strength to roll toward him, propping yourself up on one elbow.

Less than an hour ago, your mind had been flooded with thousands of questions for him… Now, your brain was so muddled that you could only manage to pull out one:

“So…” You paused thoughtfully. “...you’re calling me babe now?”

Mammon turned toward you and smirked, his cerulean eyes glittering with promise.

“Among other things…brat,” he said meaningfully, thumbing your chin. “Don’t worry, though…”

Mammon broke into a toothy grin.

“...I like it when ya talk back.”

T A G L I S T : @devildomditzy

A / N: thank you all for the love and support on short 'n' sweet! it saddens me a little to watch this au come to an end... but who knows, maybe I'll revisit it one day??

#AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!#BEAUTIFUL STUNNING AMAZING FANTASTIC #I AM FOAMING AT THE MOUTH I NEED HIM SO BAD ON GOD #if you ever revisit this PLEASE tag me I am begging you #we need more top mammon in this community 😌

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