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tonyspank · 1 year

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YOU RIGHT

Warnings: none i think Summary: You meet Olivia Rodrigo at a party. A/N: part 2?

Olivia Rodrigo x Reader

Fame. It was a blessing and a curse, bringing both adoration and scrutiny. The allure of the spotlight drew people in, but the constant invasion of privacy weighed heavily on those who experienced it.

You never wanted to be famous, with everyone watching your every move and judging your every decision. The pressure to maintain a perfect image becomes suffocating, leaving no room for mistakes or personal growth. It seemed like too much.

Your friends, on the other hand, envied the idea of fame. They saw it as a gateway to success, wealth, and recognition, and hell, it was.

The difference between Jack's and your bank accounts was big.

Jack Harlow, a rising rap artist, seemed to have it all. Jack Harlow, the same guy you used to hang out with and freestyle with in your basement, was now selling out arenas and topping the charts.

Jack Harlow, the same guy who would visit New York just to hang out with you, his best friend.

You'd know Jack since he was just starting out in the music industry. You had witnessed his journey from recording songs in his bedroom to signing a major record deal.

You were proud of him, he was truly like a brother to you, and seeing his success brought you immense joy. Despite his fame, Jack remained humble and always made time for the people who had supported him from the beginning.

Which is why he decided to drag you to a party in downtown Brooklyn, a place he hoped you would enjoy. The party was filled with talented musicians and industry professionals, nearly everyone there had some connection to the music industry.

You follow Jack as he maneuvers through the crowd, making his way to the DJ booth. You watch him dap up the DJ before he introduces you to him. "This is Zack Bia, his shit is fire. I swear to you." Jack says, leaning closer to you so you can hear him over the music.

Zack daps you up, giving you a warm smile before turning back to his DJ set. Zack leans into Jack's ear, whispering something that makes Jack quickly nod his head, you can slightly mouth the words "Oh yeah."

Zack presses a button on his DJ controller, and the music transitions seamlessly into Jack's song, Dua Lipa. He then hands him a mic, and Jack grabs it eagerly, ready to perform.

As the beat drops, Jack's voice fills the room, captivating everyone with his smooth delivery and undeniable stage presence. The crowd goes wild, their energy fueling Jack's performance as he effortlessly commands the small stage.

You find yourself nodding your head to the beat, unable to resist the infectious rhythm. The music pulsates through your body, making it impossible to stand still. Jack puts an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him as you take a sip from your glass.

"Do the next part," Jack whispers in your ear, moving the microphone away from his lips. You laugh a bit, shaking your head. "Nah, man." Jack smiles, "C'mon."

He doesn't give you time to process your response before he moves the microphone to your mouth and starts singing the next verse. Caught off guard, you stumble over the lyrics for a moment before finding your voice and joining in.

Jack starts jumping up and down, his energy contagious as he encourages the crowd to sing along. "So, what's up?" Jack shouts into the microphone, moving it away from you.

You leave the stage, needing a drink and fresh air after being put on the spot like that. When you arrive at the bar, you see a brunette girl sitting by herself, her head down, as she types away on her phone.

You twist your lips, would she mind if you took a seat next to her?

The bartender looks up from cleaning a glass and nods at you, indicating that you can take a seat. When you settle down, you catch a glimpse of the girl's screen, noticing that she's scrolling through social media.

"What can I get you?" the bartender asks, breaking your focus. You quickly glance at the menu and order a shot of tequila.

You can feel it. Her eyes stare at your side profile, but you pretend not to notice and play with the rings on your fingers. What would you say to her if you mustered up the courage to strike up a conversation?

Moments later, the bartender returns with your shot of tequila, accidentally knocking over the girl's drink and proceeding to drop your shot on the table. "Shit! I am so sorry."

You chuckle and reassure the bartender that it's alright, searching for a napkin. "Do you have a napkin?" You ask the bartender, glancing at the wet stain on your jeans.

The bartender searches underneath the counter, unable to find a napkin. "I'm really sorry, but I don't have any napkins at the moment. There might be some in the bathroom upstairs."

You glance at the brunette, who is now wiping her drink off her dress with her hands. "I could also grab you a napkin too, if you'd like."

For the first time, she looks at you, and your stomach does backflips.

"I could come with." She smiles, her brown doe eyes staring into yours. Her smile is warm and inviting, making your heart race even faster. "That would be great," you say, trying to hide your excitement.

You both make your way up the stairs, squeezing past other people who are heading downstairs. As you reach the top, you notice a sign pointing towards the bathroom. The brunette leads the way, gracefully navigating through the crowd.

Huh. This place used to be a studio, you think to yourself, admiring the high ceilings and large windows. You walk into the bathroom with her, turning on the light to reveal a clean and modern design.

The marble countertops and sleek fixtures give the space an elegant touch. You can't help but feel a sense of relief knowing that you won't have to endure a grimy restroom experience tonight.

The brown-eyed girl lets out a huff, searching the bottom compartment for napkins. "Well, I didn't find any napkins, but..." she says, pulling out a blowdryer. "We can use this."

You laugh, impressed by her resourcefulness. "That's definitely a creative solution," you say, admiring her ability to think outside the box. "Who needs napkins when we have a blowdryer?" you joke, helping her plug in the blowdryer.

You sit on the countertop, waiting for the blow dryer to warm up. "I'm Y/N, by the way." The brown-eyed girl smiles and extends her free hand. "Nice to meet you, Y/N. I'm Olivia," she introduces herself, grateful for the unexpected company in this situation.

You shake hands, and you can't help but feel that this encounter might turn into an interesting and memorable experience.

Olivia raises the blowdryer on the wet spot on your jeans, causing you to jump a bit in surprise. "Sorry about that," she apologizes, her cheeks turning slightly pink.

"You're good, it's just a bit hot."

You smile as you watch her swing the blow dryer back and forth, blowing warm air onto your damp jeans. Olivia looks back at you with a small smile on her lips.

"Did you get dragged here too? Or did you come willingly?" You ask, trying to make conversation.

"A bit of both, you?"

You chuckle softly, your eyes glancing around the room. "Well, I guess you could say I was persuaded to come," you admit with a playful tone. "But I'm actually glad I did. It's been a while since I've hung around Jack...I missed him."

Olivia nods understandingly, her smile widening. "Jack, like Jack Harlow?" You nod in response, confirming her guess. "Yeah, that's the one. We used to be attached at the hip back in high school, but life got busy and we drifted apart. It's nice to reconnect and catch up."

"Do you make music too?" Olivia asks, curious. You shake your head, chuckling softly. "No, not like Jack. I'm more of a listener than a creator when it comes to music. But I've always admired his talent and passion for it."

"You make music, though, right?" You ask and Olivia nods, smiling. "Yes, I do. It's been a big part of my life for as long as I can remember. I like being able to express myself through music and connect with others who kind of relate. It's a form of therapy for me, a way to escape and let my emotions flow freely."

You hum, "I completely understand what you mean. Music has a way of speaking rather than using words." Olivia's smile widens, and she nods in agreement. "Exactly! I honestly can't imagine my life without music."

A comfortable silence settles between the two of you. Another one of Jack's songs begins to play, so loudly that you can faintly hear it all the way up here.

"Want me to dry your dress?" You break the silence, softly taking the blow dryer from her hands. "Oh! Uh, sure, thank you." You smile, hopping off the counter. "You wanna sit? I can help you up."

"Thank you, yeah..." You place the blowdryer down, gently placing your hands on her waist, before lifting her onto the counter. She settles down, her eyes never leaving yours.

"I've always wanted to play an instrument." You confess, doing the same motions with the blowdryer on her dress. "Really? Which one?" she asks, biting down on her lips, her eyes still on you.

You pause for a moment, contemplating your answer. "I think I've always been drawn to the guitar," you finally reply, meeting her eyes.

"Acoustic or electric?" she asks, a small smile forming on her lips. "Acoustic for sure. But I can't sing for shit, so no one-man band for me," you chuckle, causing her smile to widen.

"Well, who needs vocals when you can make the guitar sing?" she teases playfully, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

"What do you do, if you don't mind me asking?" Olivia inquires, her curiosity evident in her tone. "I'm a real estate agent, believe it or not."

"It's not as glamorous as being a musician, but it pays the bills," you say with a shrug. Olivia nods understandingly, her smile still present. "Do you wear a suit to work?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Sometimes," you reply with a smirk. "But most days, I prefer a more casual and comfortable look. I can't distract my clients with how good I look in a suit, you know?"

Olivia laughs and leans in, placing a hand on your forearm. "So, what's the most interesting property you've ever sold?" she asks.

"Well," you begin, "I once sold a mansion to Central Cee, you know, the UK rapper? He had some specific requests for the interior design, including a home studio and a custom-built gaming room. It was definitely a unique and exciting project to work on," you explain, reminiscing about the experience.

Olivia's eyes widen with intrigue as she listens attentively. "Is he the most famous client you've ever had?"

"Actually, no. I didn't directly sell a house to Drake, but I did have the opportunity to assist in finding him a property. And this was a while ago, maybe when he dropped that one Keke song."

Olivia's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Wow, why is that actually kind of cool?' You chuckle, turning off the blowdryer and setting it down on the counter. "Well, it was definitely a unique experience. It's not every day you get to work with someone as well-known as Drake."

Olivia nods. "I can only imagine what it must have been like. Did you get to meet him in person?"

You smile and reply, "Unfortunately, I didn't get the chance to meet him face-to-face. However, I did communicate with his team throughout the process and ensure that his preferences and requirements were met."

You let out a sigh, saying, "If you ever need to find property in the future, let me know." Olivia smiles, nodding her head. "Of course, I wouldn't want anyone else. I don't think all real estate agents help their future clients dry off their dresses when the bartender spills a drink on them." She chuckles, patting her dress to see if it was dry.

"I guess that's just one of the many perks of having a dedicated real estate agent like me," you reply with a wink. Olivia opens her mouth to speak, but knocking on the door interrupts her.

"You guys done in there? We've been waiting for ages!" a voice calls from outside. Olivia and you exchange amused glances before you reply, "Just a moment! We'll be right out."

"Here, I'll help you down." You stand in between Olivia's legs, placing your hands on her waist to support her as she steps down from the countertop.

Olivia's face flushes slightly as she looks up at you, grateful for your assistance. "Thank you," she says softly, moving a hair strand out of her face.

You smile at Olivia and give her a reassuring nod. "No problem at all," you respond, feeling a warm connection between the two of you. You can't help but notice how her hand lingers on your arm for a brief moment before she lets go.

You begin walking towards the door, opening it for Olivia to exit first. A messy-haired boy quickly rushes past the two of you, "Sorry, I have to shit!" he exclaims, nearly knocking Olivia over.

She stumbles slightly but regains her balance with your support. You exchange a knowing glance with Olivia, bursting into laughter at the unexpected interruption.

As the laughter subsides, Olivia thanks you for catching her and playfully nudges your arm. "It was nice meeting you, Olivia." You say, returning the playful nudge.

You give her one last glance before walking towards the flight of stairs. "Wait!" Olivia calls out, causing you to turn around. "Can I have your number? I'd love to keep in touch," Olivia asks, a hint of nervousness in her voice. You smile and reach for your phone, exchanging numbers with her.

Olivia pulls you into a hug, surprising you. You hesitate before returning the hug, wrapping your arm tightly around her waist. You pull away, your hands slightly lingering on her waist. "Don't be a stranger," you say, giving her a warm smile. Olivia returns the smile, nodding.

With a final wave, you turn and continue down the stairs, already looking forward to the next time you'll see each other.

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solomonssock · 2 years

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To Capture A Demon's Heart

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

I fell for him a bit more writing this frfr

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

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

Word Count: ~5,000

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A knock sounds at your door.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You frown. "What's wrong Mam?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"The hells that?"

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

"You mean the lotion?"

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

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

That is, until you open your mouth again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I mean it, Mam."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are trinkets usually given?" You ask.

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

"Huh-" Did you hear that correctly?

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

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

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

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

"So, the wrestling...?"

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

"Ooooh!" You take a minute to ponder.

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

"Bingo."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Like a pact, but for romantic partners?"

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

"Mammon, has anyone tried courting you before?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hums but doesn't move.

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

"Seriously, you would accept it?"

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

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

"Whatd’ya want now?"

"Can I kiss you?"

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

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

"I love you, Mam."

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

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

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

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

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

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

#For the purposes of this drabble you have a TV in your room and yes Levi did let you borrow it because it’s an older model and you know he’s #Absolute king shit Leviathan ty for hooking your brother up #I fr did a coin toss for this one and it was heads #so sorry to those who might have been interested in the plot of to capture a beating heart #I listened to the Born to Die Album Paradise Edition for the entirety of this #Off to the Races screams Mammon and I will not be persuaded otherwise #I took a some things I thought would be interesting and contrary to human culture and tossed them into the courtship #Also hello everyone I did not expect anyone to read or enjoy my things and I'm so very happy to share my little musings with you all #mammon obey me #lucifer obey me #obey me barbatos #obey me diavolo #mammon x reader #reader x mammon #obey me x reader #obey me reader #obey me reader insert #obey me #obey me one master to rule them all #omomtrta #mammon x mc #obey me mc #mammon x you #mammon x y/n #demonic courting #courting rituals #obey me satan

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