☪︎𝒜 D𝓪𝔂 D𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓻☪︎

The air in Fred’s upstairs office hangs thick with the scent of spicy sweet potions, singed parchment, and the faint smokiness of his latest fireworks experiment. Twilight filters in through the dusty window panes, casting amber pools of light over stacks of joke-shop catalogs and glass jars labeled Fainting Fancies and Calming Draughts - and one dangerously over-potent vial crouched low on his desk.

You hadn’t meant to drink the whole thing. Fred’s mischievous grin when he handed you the cup should’ve tipped you off. But you’d trusted him. Now your skin is humming as though every nerve ending is lit aflame. Your pulse thunders in your ears and your palms are slick with sweat.

“Fred,” you whisper, voice unsteady as you stumble toward him. He swivels in his leather chair, hair tumbling into his eyes. He looks alarmed - his freckled cheeks paling under the flicker of candlelight.

“(Y/N), are you - are you alright?” He jumps up, twisting the chair so hard it groans.

You can barely focus on his face. All you can see is the flush racing up his neck, the way his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. Your head swims, and your jaw goes slack. “I thought it was a… confidence boost,” you manage, voice thick. “But it’s… it’s too much.”

Fred’s gaze darts to the vial at the edge of the desk. He grabs it, face falling. “Blast it, I miscalculated,” he mutters, corking the bottle. He sets it aside and steps toward you. His long fingers hover at your elbow. “You shouldn’t have drunk that much.”

The potion’s thrill claws at your insides - an overwhelming ache that can only be soothed by him. You reach out, tugging on his tie until he’s close enough to taste. You press your mouth to his neck, sucking gently on the pulse point. He gasps, hand flying to your wrist.

“Fred,” you croak, breath warm against his skin. “Please… I need you.”

His breath hitches. “(Y/N), wait—” He tries to pull back, but you tug harder on his tie, pulling him back to you. His hands trail down to your waist as you guide him, your lips trailing hungrily along his collarbone.

In a blur of motion, Fred yanks the fabric of your top over your head, tossing it aside. Your breath catches in your throat, the cool air rushing over your bare skin as he works quickly, peeling your jeans off with a frantic urgency. His fingers brush your skin with heated intensity, skin against skin, as your heart races faster, pulling him closer.

Before you know it, you're left in nothing but your underwear, your body bared to him in the dim, flickering candlelight. The only sound is the rapid thrum of your pulse and Fred’s breath hitching as he looks you over—eyes darkening in hunger.

You almost forget how to breathe as Fred takes a step back to admire you, his hands tightening around the fabric of his own shirt. You feel heat flood through your veins, your body begging for the release only he can give.

“Please, Fred,” you whimper again, your body trembling as the potion’s effects spread deep within you. “I need this.”

His gaze flicks to the desk, his lips parting as he steps forward, fingers pressing against your inner thighs, urging them apart. The heat of his body is so close now, and your need for him is unbearable. You slide your hands down his chest, yanking open his pants and freeing him from his restraint.

As soon as you do, Fred groans, lowering you onto the desk where the last remnants of his catalog spill onto the floor. Your back arches instinctively, desperate for the connection you crave. Fred doesn't need any more invitation. He slides into you effortlessly, his rhythm swift and commanding.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” Fred growls, his hips snapping forward as he sets a pace that makes you cry out in pure, frantic need. The potion buzzes in your veins, intensifying every sensation as he fills you completely, the weight of his body making everything feel so real, so right.

You can only cling to him, every thrust pushing you closer to the edge.

Fred’s fingers curl into your hip as he thrusts up through your slick underwear, desk rattling beneath you. The rigid edge presses into the small of your back, arching you perfectly around him. Every inch of him inside you feels like a promise of release.

You grip the edge of the desk so hard your knuckles blanch, head thrown back, mouth open in a ragged moan. “Fred,” you gasp, voice trembling on the edge of collapse. “Oh god, Fred—harder.”

His green eyes darken, filled with equal parts need and concern. He doesn’t hesitate. He slams into you, hips pistoning faster, each thrust driving you closer to the brink. The friction of his cock against your most sensitive walls sends shockwaves through your body.

“I—can’t—stop,” you cry, chest heaving. “It’s too much.”

Fred’s breaths come in ragged bursts as he keeps up the relentless pace. You feel the coil of pleasure twist tighter. Your second orgasm rips through you, a blinding white heat that leaves you trembling and breathless, your back arching so far you can’t even see straight.

He holds you through it, thrusting just enough to keep you on the edge, then pulls back, letting you catch your breath—only to drive in again without warning. The sting of overstimulation mixes with the bliss until all you can do is scream his name.

“Fred… please…” your voice cracks, “one more time.”

With a low growl, he answers you. He positions himself deeper, pushing into you until your hips slam against the desk with a wet, echoing sound. The pressure builds between your legs until your third orgasm crashes down, your body convulsing around him, squeezing him tight.

Fred groans deep in his chest. His pace falters, then picks up one last time—slower, deeper, until he spills inside you, hot and trembling. He holds still, letting his release merge with yours, both of you riding out the aftershocks together.

When the world finally stills, Fred eases out and collapses beside you on the desk, skin and hair damp with sweat. You turn to him, breath returning in ragged pants.

“(Y/N)…” he murmurs, brushing a stray lock of hair from your forehead. “Are you okay?”

You trace the line of his jaw with trembling fingers. “I’m… perfect,” you whisper, voice soft. You wince as the desk edge presses into your hip, and he scoots closer, draping an arm across your waist so you can sink down onto the carpeted floor together.

Fred props himself up on one elbow, eyes flicking to the shattered vial on the desk, potion residue shimmering on the wood. With a resolute grimace, he leans forward and sweeps the pieces into a scrap of cloth, stomping them flat. “No more experiments,” he vows quietly, “unless you’re fully aware of the consequences.”

You smile, pressing a gentle kiss to his freckled cheek. “Next time,” you tease, “just give me the safe stuff.”

“Don’t worry about it, Malfoy.” He scoffed back, cursing himself mentally as he already knew you were going to snitch on him. You laughed mockingly as you inspected his weak prank.

“Really? A box of fireworks to scare Finch? This is a new low, even for you.” You hummed teasingly. Fred rolled his eyes. He hated how you were always right. He could admit that this wasn’t his best idea.

“And? It’s none of your bloody business.” Fred sneered back. Now he was running out of comebacks, and prank ideas.

“Think you could do better, princess?” Fred grinned, a fiery challenge now burning in his brown eyes. You snapped your gaze back to the boy and laughed.

“I know I can.” You insisted, ignoring the tingly feeling inside of your belly at the nickname ‘princess’. You’ve always been known as the Slytherin princess, being Draco’s sister. It was just something different when Fred referenced it.

You began to fiddle with the firework box, mumbling different enchantments that leave much more of an impact in much sillier ways.

Suddenly, in the middle of you slowly forgetting the fact that you were enjoying yourself with a Weasley, you hear a deep, intimidating voice.

“Ah, if it isn’t Ms. Malfoy.” A sickening voice purred from behind the two of you. Instantly, your spine straightened, your head snapped upwards, and your cheeks flush red in embarrassment.

”How would your father react if he knew his precious daughter was pulling pranks with a red-headed Weasley?” Snape sneered at you. He could care less for Fred, he was used to deducting points from Gryffindor. You, however, were not getting left off the hook.

“N-no professor! I swear to merlin, I was just about to come to you about this. He’s trying to prank Finch! I had no involvement in this—“ You began to excuse yourself as Fred snickered beside you.

“You can further explain this in detention alongside your new friend, Malfoy.” Snape dismissed. You scoffed as you and Fred both stood, the fireworks left behind as you sullenly walked to the library.

You were utterly furious as Fred laughed beside you, completely unfazed. Clearly enjoying himself.

“Aww, sorry, princess. First time in detention?” Fred cooed mockingly as the three of you reached the library. Snape huffed. He certainly didn’t have the time to watch over the two of you.

“You’re lucky I have a meeting with the Ministry. Organize all of these shelves. I’ll be back soon, don’t do anything stupid.” Snape rumbled as he left the room, locking the two of you in the library alone together.

Fred grinned dopily as steam practically flew out of your ears.

“Ugh! You’re so annoying!” You huffed as you stormed off to the bookshelves, angrily putting them away.

“Mmm. Keep goin’, sweetheart.” Fred laughed as he followed you, leaning against the bookshelves and clearly not helping. He was relaxed. Nearly lazy. Nearly sexy.

“Please, Weasley. Keep it in your pants.” You scoffed, clearly irritated as you continued sorting the books out. Fred hummed from beside you, still not contributing.

“I don’t think you want me to, darlin’. Seems like your gaggin’ for it.” He remarked. Slowly, he stood from his lazy lounge against the bookshelf. You were nothing short of blushing, but you refused to admit it.

“Spare me. Nobody’s ‘gagging’ for whatever shrimp you’re hiding in those hand-me-down robes.” You laughed, trying desperately to flip the tables and regain control. But it was far too gone now.

“Im sure it’s bigger than your last boyfriend. Been awhile since you’ve had a real orgasm, huh, sweetheart? Probably sounded like Moanin’ Myrtle while you faked it again, and again, and again.” Fred hummed as your cheeks flushed red. You set down another book and scoffed.

“Do you ever shut up!” You weakly defended. Fred grinned wider, coming even closer to you. Applying more pressure.

“You wouldn’t have to fake it with me, darlin’.”

Heavy silence fell over the library. And for the first time all night, you had no clever quip to return with. So, you turned towards Fred, moving to push him away.

As soon as your arms extended, Fred had you in a lock. He took your hands and pinned them above your head. He moved swiftly, pinning you against the bookshelf. One of his large hands held the two of yours while his other roamed freely.

“Oh, poor thing, cat caught y’tongue?” He snickered sadistically. Unfortunately, you whined under his hold, only prompting him to continue this sweet torture.

He alternated between mocking you, and downright degrading you. And merlins fuck, it was hot.

“You’re wet. You’re wet for a fuckin’ Weasley. What would y’daddy think?” His question came out as a snarl. You had no where to run. Your arms were restrained, his hips pinned your own in place, and your knees were weak.

Not a squeak leaves your mouth. Because he’s right. You’re dripping in your knickers. It’s practically embarrassing, and for some reason, that makes you even more wet.

Suddenly, Fred is flipping you around, keeping you effectively pinned as your front is now pressed against the bookshelf.

His free hand, the one you hadn’t been paying attention to, is now gliding across your hips mischievously.

“What are y’going to do about it?” You murmured. Not confidently, not arrogantly, it’s nearly a whine. Nearly desperate.

And he chuckles.

His laugh is the last thing you hear before he one handily rips your skirt off of you. Revealing your arse to his gaze.

And suddenly, a deafening slap is being forced upon your ass. And oh, fuck. It stings. But it ignites something so deep inside of you, you moan. Whorishly.

And its silent. Deadly, silent. Embarrassment floods through your veins so hot it feels like you’re on fire.

And he laughs. The only thing that breaks the silence is his laugh as he smooths over the harsh red handprint now engraved on your bare bottom.

“Oh, you really are a slut, hmm?” He teases before delivering another smack. You whimper, subconsciously pushing your arse further into his hands, silently begging for more.

You can hear his wolfish grin.

“No… m’not a slut.” You whine, almost demanding it. Unfortunately Freds no longer convinced. He soothes over your plush blistering skin reassuringly.

“Who would’a thought Slytherin’s princess was just some naughty little whore. Desperate to be put in her place. Like a fuckin’ brat.” He growls before he smacks your ass again. Your next moan is shameless, your cunt is dripping, your nipples are pebbling through your top.

Your skin betrays you. Pliant for Fred. Your ass practically jiggles in his hand, inviting more sweet punishment.

“Are you gonna be my good girl? Gonna let me fuckin’ have you?” He hums rhetorically. Despite your pride, you nod. Desperate to be touched. Desperate for friction.

“Words, sweetheart.” He sadistically purrs. Normally, you would curse him for demanding anything out of you. But you’re in his hands now. He has the control. He has you.

“Yes, m’gonna be a good girl! S’good.” You slur mindlessly. Arousal and embarrassment collide hotly, only making your pussy pulse as he finally releases your wrists.

Now he has two hands available. Double trouble.

It’s like the quiet before the storm as he runs his hands down your body. He grips whatever he can find, he kisses your shoulder blade, as if the two of you were lovers.

But the storm always arrives no less.

His right hand, the one that had been slapping your arse, moves forward, past your hips, towards your sacredness.

The left, the one that once held your wrist, is now dealing damage.

“You sought me out… wearin’ a skirt, and no panties. What’d you think was gonna happen, love?” He murmurs mockingly as two fingers slip into your cunt and his other hand delivers a crackling smack. You whine, gushing over his hand as you grip the bookshelf for dear life.

Certainly, there is a red handprint on at least one of your asscheeks.

You’re not focused on the stinging pain from behind as his long fingers work magic in your cunt. He knows just where to touch, how to swirl, and when to curl.

“Fred,” You breathe. Overstimulated. You’re practically heady. And of course Fred finds this all so amusing. The bulge of his dick is pressed against your bare ass, his whole body and scent surrounding you, reinforcing your dizziness.

“What happened to ‘Weasley’?” He grins against the back of your neck, nipping at the skin there as he continues to lavish at your cunt.

“You’re so tight. None of those pricks knew how to stretch you, aye? How to take care of this pretty pussy.” He cooed in your ear, creating a string of moans from your lips as his other hand left your ass and cupped your clothed tits.

Luckily for you, Fred is a blabbering mess. Leaving you to incoherently moan as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

“I’m sure none of them knew how filthy you are, either. How you like to be spanked like a naughty thing.” He rasped to you. This seems to be your final straw as this sends you flying over the edge.

You nearly squirt just from his fingers. You cry out, prompting Fred to cover your mouth with his other hand as you ride out your orgasm.

He gives you time to recover as he pulls out his fingers. He sucks your sweetness off of them as you pant.

“That’s it?” You breathe. Stubborn, prideful, familiar. Something to distract the two of you from how right it feels.

Luckily that takes Fred back to his originally competitive state of mind. He’s harshly back on you.

He grabs your hair, tugging, forcing you to his mouth as he connects to your lips with a sloppy kiss. “C’mon, love.” He grins wickedly against you. “Don’t act like you weren’t droolin’ all over my hand.”

He laughs. Before you ever realize that his trousers were pulled down, you feel an angry hard tip press against your cunt from behind.

He rubs his tip up-and-down your soaked folds, teasing the both of you. Your breath hitches as you grip the bookshelf once more.

Fred Weasley is about to take you from behind. Fred Weasley just made you cum. Fred Weasley’s handprint is on your ass currently.

It ignites something primal in you.

You’re no longer the rich, Malfoy. You’re Fred Weasley’s hole to fuck.

And suddenly he’s sliding in. You moan whorishly, your back arching from his size. He’s lengthy, with a nice girth. It has your jaw wide as you moan.

He’s incredibly ‘humble’ about it as well.

“What is it, princess?” He coos, mockingly sweet. You take the bate no less. Convinced that maybe Fred will show you some sympathy.

“S’too big…” You whine, wiggling your hips as you desperately try to take him deeper. Fred cruelly laughs at your attempts before he mercilessly begins to thrust.

You gasp as he starts his pace, losing all sense of dignity as sweet noises begin to tumble out of you.

Its messy, fast, and hard. Its so Fred. He fucks like he has something to prove. His cock is so deep and long that it’s hitting unimaginable spots within you. His words completely fuel your gushing pussy’s desire. He doesn't jackhammer, he fucks.

“M-merlins, fuck… Fred! M’cant—t’much—ahh!” You babble mindlessly. You’re so close but also not close enough. You want to go longer, but holy fuck he’s making it hard to do so.

“Oh, poor thing. S’it too much? D’you want me to stop, sweetheart?” He mockingly whimpers back to you, followed by a cackle of a laugh. Unfortunately, this only makes you tighten around him. And he feels it.

His hands slide from your hips back down to the curve of your ass where he’s thrusting into you from.

“Oh you’re a picture perfect whore, aren’t you? Stuffed to the brim with cock, and taking it.” He growls, eliciting a primal moan from you as he playfully slaps your ass, entranced by the way it jiggles for him.

“No one would believe me if I told them I fucked The Malfoy princess. How she moaned for a Weasley’s cock. Beggin’ me so sweetly.” He grinned at the thought, making you whine and squeeze further around him.

You didn’t want him to degrade you. But oh, your body certainly did.

“Holy shit—Fred!” You gasp as he hits that spot. He doesn’t acknowledge it though. In fact, he slows down like the teasing shite he is, watching as you whine desperately for him as he completely stills inside of you.

“What is it that you want, eh?” He teasingly inquires. As if he doesn’t know. He wants you to say it.

You try desperately to fuck yourself against him. Your pride still swollen in your chest as you rutted tour hips backwards in search of friction.

Alas, no prevail.

“I-I need it… Fred.” You mumble, chewing on your bottom lip. You pray its enough, but deep down you know it isn’t.

“C’mon sweetheart, you can do better than that. Sing for Freddie.” He maliciously hums, nipping at the back of your ear. You can feel a hand slide up to your hair, gripping it, threatening you.

So, you sing.

“Please! Please, Fred. Need y’to fuck me like you hate me. Like a slut!” You shamefully plead. If your father ever knew you just begged to be fucked like a slut, you would surely be disowned.

But Fred’s dick pulsed inside of you with promise that made it all seem worth the embarrassment.

He laughed as he sped back up, and you knew this time, you were destined to cum.

“Filthy fuckin’ girl. Do anythin’ for my dick, eh?” He rasped as his pace grew unforgiving, building your orgasm. You can feel it in your lower abdomen. You know you won’t last.

“Oh fuck. You’re grippin’ me like a vice. Wanna cum, sweetheart? Call yourself my whore, then i’ll let you.” He demanded. You could practically hear his smirk, and it made your insides flip unnaturally.

A few more thrusts and you were convinced you would die if you didn’t cum. So, you relinquish any sense of control you had left. And, despite yourself, it felt good to submit.

“I-I’m your whore, Fred! Please, lemme cum. M’all yours!” You slurred obscenely. Fred hummed, hitting even deeper inside of you.

His hands wrapped around your body, one gripping your neck, the other covering your mouth.

“Cum for me.”

Thats all it took.

You milked him of everything he had, eliciting a guttural groan from behind you as you let go. Fred fucked you through your orgasm. When you finally finished, he couldn’t take it anymore.

He pulled out, positioned his cock, and came all over your ass.

It was dirty, and shameful. But it certainly felt good. The two of you panted in harmony as you came down from your highs together.

“Not bad, Weasley.” You panted.

You and Mammon had been friends for around two years. From the moment you’d made a pact, you did everything together: cooking, homework, sleepovers, you’d even help him tidy up his messes before Lucifer could scold him. Mammon reflects on one day in particular as he thinks about you.

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“What are you doin’?”

“Um.. Helping?” you reply. Mammon had done something stupid to irritate Lucifer, so as punishment he sent him to reorganise the books in the House of Lamentations’ library alphabetically. You watched the entire scene unfold and silently hoped to get to know the demon who’s been made your guardian at RAD. Which is how you ended up here.

“I don’t need some humans help,” he grumbled. Mammon was just embarrassed really. That you, arguably the most beautiful woman he’d seen, had gone out of your way to help him with his punishment. 

A look of rejection flickered across your features before it was immediately concealed with a wicked grin. You were never one to give up so easily, so with your head held high, you continue assisting him. Mammon couldn’t believe your stubbornness - almost impressed - as you moved in unison with each other. 

A few minutes had passed of Mammon side-eyeing you in confusion and curiosity, when he couldn’t take the silence anymore. You had no reason to be helping him, especially with such a jolly look on your face. “Alright, what’s the deal?” he exclaims, arms crossed, books forgotten.

You slightly smile at his outburst, hands still moving swiftly when you reply, “I’m not sure what you mean?”

“You don’t have anythin’ better to do?” He huffs. 

“No,” with a mischievous glint in your eye you pause, “Actually, I think I’m right where I want to be.” Mammons face instantly warms at this admission, his tiny brain overloaded with intrusive thoughts of you, that sentence stuck like a bullet in the brain. 

His brain short circuits trying to come up with an equally witty response. “Well.. That’s stupid. And don’t just say things like that.” Oh yeah. Definitely owned it.

You laugh a small laugh at his behaviour. You honestly were just testing the waters with him to see if he really was this big scary demon he claims to be - your conclusion being: most definitely not. 

You mirror his posture and cross your arms before taking one step closer. “I make you nervous, oh Great Mammon?” you tease.

“Shut up already,” he shakes his head as he tries to focus on the task at hand, doing nothing but re-reading the titles as he tries to shake off your effect. 

“Do you want to swing by my room later?” you ask like you’ve known each other for years.

Mammon feels like he might throw up. Not because he doesn’t like you - the complete opposite actually. “I- Um..” He coughs out. Be cool. Be cool.

“For our Cursed and Hexes homework, we can help each other out,” you add, feigned confusion on your face.

Idiot. 

“Right! Yes! I mean… I’ll see if I can fit it into my schedule.”

You giggle at him. He thinks it’s the sweetest sound in the world. He watches as you take your leave, wishing him the best of luck with his organising of books. Oh yeah. The books.

Once the evening came around, you and Mammon were sat on your bed talking endlessly, textbooks long forgotten. He sneaks a look at you, before standing up and extending his hand, “Come with me?”

You smile, “Sure.”

He leads you to a large room with a red curtain hung towards the end. He pushes the curtain open for you to walk through, when you finally let go off his hand and spin in awe at your surroundings. “This is the planetarium,” he says, watching you in admiration, your eyes sparkling as you look up to the night sky. “C’mon,” he guides you to lay on the floor side by side with him to look up at the view.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathe, wonderstruck as you stare up.

“Yeah, it is,” he murmurs, blue eyes tracing your face.

He realises he’s been staring at you way too long so he points up at a collection of stars. “That’s a cosmic rose under the constellation Andromeda,” he begins, “Andromeda was rescued by Perseus and they ended up fallin’ in love with each other.”

You turn your body fully to his, causing him to mirror you in return. He watches your eyes shine in the reflection of the lights when he feels your hand take his again, “Thank you, Mammon.” 

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After that night, you two became inseparable. One of those friendships where if you were alone, people would ask you where the other one is. You would tease him and he would blush. He would act confident in his response and you would laugh. Usually, Mammon would spend most of his free time hiding in your bedroom from debtors, while you sat there amused at his horrible money management skills.

You, as blissfully unaware as ever, didn’t catch on to Mammon’s painfully obvious crush on you. Though you’d make a flirty comment here and there, he knew you were joking really, which inevitably hurt. It wasn’t love at first sight, but rather a gradual, heart-sinking love that began to weigh heavy on his mind. The first time this thought crossed his mind was like any other day. Lazily sprawled on your bed, shovelling heaps of spicy rainbow pizza into your mouths. You paused to start babbling on about how you should save a slice to surprise Beel as he’d been feeling down lately, completely ignorant to Mammons abhorrent staring. He had fully acknowledged in that moment, your kindness and overwhelming love for his brothers, and knew he wanted to listen to you talk forever. 

The second time was a month later when you both used Levi’s Devildendo Switch - you were playing a fighting versus game - and you won. No surprise really, as while you were hunched over, crisscrossed legs buzzing in excitement, Mammon was too busy getting distracted by your concentration face. You jumped up after finally tearing your glazed eyes away from the screen and bringing Mammon back to reality, to flaunt your limbs in what you called “a celebratory dance” that could only insult Barbatos’ dance teachings. “Ohhohoh! In your big stupid face!” you taunted, with a big cheesy grin. 

“Yeah okay… whatever human”, a pathetic attemt to seem annoyed. If it were anyone else, Mammon would roll his eyes and sulk at his title of Sore Loser but right now, Mammon thought it was funny… cute almost... The moment had him smiling through the rest of the rounds. Through dinner. Through gambling. Through his shower. Uh oh. 

There was one night in particular that raises his heartbeat when he thinks about it. 

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You and Mammon were roaming the streets of Devildom, an engrossing mix of purple and pink hues painted across the sky. Mammon was talking about the other day when he and Diavolo were on a rollercoaster and he was, in his words, “totally not scared”. 

“But in the picture you’re terrified..?” you squint your eyes at him playfully.

“Shut up, it was just a bad angle!” Mammon pouts as he light-heartedly nudges your side, the touch radiating through his skin.

Your walk continues, your synonymous howling laughter echoing through the street as you recall stories to each other. Until suddenly Mammons eyes widen and his entire body freezes in place.

“What is it? Another rollercoaster?” you remark. But Mammon is too engrossed in the woman stood infront of him to see your smile drops as you catch his eyeline. She wasn’t just any woman. She’s a witch. A witch he is aggressively in debt to - something you didn’t know.

Without thinking, he grabs your hand, fingers lacing through your delicate ones as he drags you alongside him. Your mind doesn’t catch up with your feet as you both run to wherever he’s taking you.

After minutes of weaving through citizens and exclaiming quick apologies, you stand beneath a small bridged entryway. You both catch your breath, looking at each other, suddenly very aware of the confined space you’re in.

Your bodies are physically pressed against each other, chests slowly rising and falling as your breath mingled. His hands were hovering over your hips, a pitiful attempt of trying to stay respectful, while your hands were rested against his hard chest. God… “You’re so beautiful”, he admits through an ever so quiet whisper that if you weren’t already watching his mouth, you would’ve missed it. 

Your eyes meet and there’s an understanding between you both yet neither of you truly know its meaning. He smiles softly, a smile only reserved for you, his best friend. The world around you is irrelevant, the noise of chatter simmering down. 

A beat later Mammon slowly tilts his head down, his nose just grazing yours. You delicately go on your tippy toes to reach him halfway when the deafening sound of your heartbeat is interrupted.

“Oh, hello there you two!”

You two jump apart from each other, concomitantly hitting your heads against the stone behind you, earning a groan from you both.

“Solomon? What are you doin’ here?” Mammon snaps as his tanned hand reaches behind him to smooth his own scalp.

“I’m looking for ingredients to make Broiled Deathfish. What exactly are you two doing… alone… under a bridge?” Solomon inquires, his eyes darting between you both in entertainment.

“We were hiding from”, he pauses, quickly glancing at you from the corner of his eyes, “no one.”

Solomon slowly nods, acting totally convinced at Mammons excuse as he goes about his day. Whereas you had hung onto that last sentence. She didn’t exactly seem like no one to you.

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Nothing changed between you after that, as if it never happened. It was moments like those that began to replay and haunt his dreams. They’d evolve into glimpses of your fictional shared future that left him yearning each morning when he awoke. He’d decided one difficult night that he’d consult the best person he could think of to help.

“Belphie! You awake?” Mammon pressed his ear against the door for any sign of life, silently hoping his brother will answer. The door flies open to a yawning Belphegor, slowly blinking at Mammons alert face. “Good! You’re up! I need to ask you somethin’”, Mammon briskly enters his room and sits at the end of his bed while Belphegor still stands at the entrance half-asleep. 

He looks over to Beelzebub spread on his own bed snoring loudly, and then back to Belphegor. “Don’t worry, he ate so much creamed bonnacon he won’t be waking up any time soon,” Belphie answers his silent question. 

Mammon nods, then thinks about how to phrase this. “Do you ever just.. not sleep?” is the best he comes up with. Belphegor shuts the bedroom door and raises an eyebrow. “I mean… Do you ever have dreams that end up joltin’ you awake?”

Belphegor yawns as he sits beside his brother, “Sometimes. Mainly when I think about Lilith. But those feel more like nightmares”.

The two brothers share a look of understanding and empathy after the mention of their sister. Mammon suddenly feels very stupid for bringing this up. “Do these dreams consist of a certain human?” Belphegor asks, his eyes boring into Mammons surprised ones.

Now he feels even more stupid. As if he’s practically naked with the way his brother announces his secret aloud. “If you’re having dreams about her,” Belphegor murmurs falling asleep, “maybe you need to think about how you really feel about her”. 

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Mammon thinks about it. Really thinks about it. Possibly the most thinking he’s ever had to do. He thinks about it when he’s brushing his teeth. He thinks about it when he’s using Goldie. He thinks about it in the shower. All he does is think, think, think. Until half way during the week, he’s built up the courage to be back in your bedroom. You’d just gotten up to use the bathroom after hours of tormenting Mammon with your beautiful face and your beautiful laugh and your beautiful everything. 

You were like a beacon of light to him. Something so precious he didn’t know what to do with it. He gets his D.D.D out of his pocket and calls his brother. “I like her.” 

Through the line of his phone he hears Belphegors exhausted voice, “Well done.” 

“I really like her”, he declares down the phone once more, his voice of joy now laced with panic and worry.

Before Belphie could calm him down, you had opened the door just as he’d finished his life-altering realisation, “Did you say something?”

Oh god. He hangs up the phone instantly. He could never tell you he likes you. Mammon has never had such a special bond with someone before and if he tells you, theres a chance that will all go away. He uses this moment of speechlessness to look at you. To really look at you. Your curious eyes shining at his, your lopsided smile of amusement and confusion, the way you’re so perfect it physically hurts him.

“N..No..” he lies pathetically.

Mammon thought he could control this strange mushy feeling, being “The Great Mammon” after all, but after his undeniable romance towards you, he decides to use the last bit of brainpower for his grand plan. He’s going to ignore you. Maybe if he just keeps far away from you, everything will go back to the way it was at the start. No lovey-dovey feelings. 

Unsurprisingly, this was a very difficult plan seeing as you live together. Mammon obviously thought he was doing a great job at keeping nonchalant but all his brothers noted his absence during meal times and how if they mentioned your name, he’d interrupt with “Who?” and run away. 

What Mammon didn’t know is that night a few days ago, when he confessed his feelings for someone, you had actually heard him. You dumbly asked him if he had spoke, a test maybe to see what he’d say, to which you got an obvious lie. Mammon never lied with you, you were always too good at seeing through them do he figured there was no point, but after seeing that one woman in the streets of Devildom, you’d realised he’s been lying to you more often than not.

Of course you had always liked Mammon. You just never thought to bring it up to him knowing he would never see you like that. So once you heard what he’d said, you spent the whole night analysing those words. “I really like her”. You sat up, apprehension washing over you. Mammon has a crush on someone else and that’s why he’s avoiding you - he’d rather spend time with this mystery woman.

You thought about who she could be, tormenting yourself even more. Does Mammon even speak to women?

You wrack your brain until it hits you; that woman he saw when you both were walking through Devildom. The gorgeous one that made him stop in his tracks and run away to hide with you. He called her “no one”, yet this “no one” was actively running laps in your mind, and apparently his too.

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It began with lack of eye contact when you were in the same room, then it became speedily walking past you when you tried to wave in the hallway. You always went out of your way to get his attention but he acted as if you weren’t there. A complete ghost.

Days of negligence turned into weeks. Ones full of uncomfortable silence, cold shoulders, and a feeling of unease. You tried to be fine about it. You really did. But it hurt you more than Mammon had considered.

Mammon was suffering just as hard, especially when he noticed you stopped even trying for his attention. He hadn’t thought about how his sudden withdrawal must look for you - how he was actually making everything much worse.

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“Why exactly are we here?” 

“Don’t act like you haven’t noted the tension between Mammon and Y/N,” Satan replied.

“Ooo.. sexual tension?” Asmodeus perked up. The brothers all turn to see Asmo’s shining eyes and big grin.

“Not quite… but also… yes?” Leviathan looks to Beelzebub for help. He mindlessly nods, munching away at biscuits he’d kept in his pocket for breakfast.

Satan had requested all the brothers to meet in the library at dawn, hidden away from the two fated lovers. The discomfort began to spread through the house of Lamentation like a deadly disease, it’s poison dampening everyone’s spirits. 

“No! No.” Satan pinches the forefront of his eyebrows. “I meant that they’ve been ignoring each other. Does anyone know why?”

“Maybe he got a bit too.. greedy,” Lucifer muses with a small satisfied smile on his face.

Silence.

“Oh god, was that a joke?” Asmo’s face covered in disgust as his hand goes to his own chest. 

“Never do that again,” Levi grimaces, “Didn’t even make sense.” Beel shakes his head in disappointment as Lucifer rolls his eyes.

“Can we focus on the matter at hand please?” Satan entreats. Time was running out before the two of you wake up and try to tiptoe around each other in the kitchen and noticing everyone’s absence.

“He’s probably just being an idiot,” Levi responds.

“Well that much you can assume,” Belphegor comments, “I think I know why.” The demons swivel their heads to him, ears eagerly listening to his every word. “The night before this whole awkward tension happened, he came to my bedroom and woke me up”. This shocked the brothers, realising Mammon must have been desperate if he woke up Belphegor. “He asked if I ever struggle to sleep because I’m too busy thinking about someone.”

“That someone being Y/N,” Lucifer crosses his arms.

“I told him to think about how he feels about them,” Belphegor adds.

“So… This whole problem is because Mammon decided… to think?” Asmo exclaims.

“Truly a dangerous thing,” Lucifer frowns in thought.

“We need to make a plan. A plan to get them back to being friends or whatever they are because this back and forth is getting ridiculous.” Satan declares. The rest are on board when Lucifer says,

“How are we doing this?”’

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You wake up, slowly blinking away your drowsiness as you rise to your feet and get ready for the day. Once you’re done, you head to the kitchen, your footsteps echoing against the tile - the only noise you can hear. Weird. Where is everybody? You were used to not seeing Mammon in the morning for breakfast anymore, but the rest of them? Not even Beel? 

You creep closer to the counter, a white piece of paper stuck to it. You see big bulky words written on it.

BREAKFAST IN PLANETARIUM. COME NOW.

Not suspicious at all. 

You stand there for a moment, eyeing up the paper in front of you before thinking, what’s the worst that could happen? You walk to the planetarium as your head spins with confusion, questioning why we would have breakfast in that room of all places. 

Walking down the corridor you spot the brothers, bar Mammon of course, huddled speaking in hushed whispers. Suddenly Asmodeus spots you, before very loudly yelling your name, “What a surprise to see you here!” 

You watch as the brothers spring into action, all now standing looking at you with wide smiles on their faces. “There was a note in the kitchen. It said breakfast was in there.” You nod to the closed door of the planetarium. 

“Right! Breakfast!” Asmo grins.

Your face contorts into a deeper confusion, “What’s going on?” The demons immediately exclaim nothing in chorus at your question. You look between them all awaiting for a further explanation.

“It’s a surprise breakfast!” Levi declares, his brothers all ferociously nodding in agreement.

You squint your eyes, “Right…” Satan opens the door and gestures for you to walk through. You sigh at their weird behaviour and right before you get to the doorway, you’re suddenly pushed into the dark room. 

You hear a lock. You’ve been locked in. The room is so dark you have to scramble to find the doorknob. You start banging on the door in panic, calling out for your friends.

Suddenly a few of the candles hung on the walls alight, causing you to turn back around to face the room. In the dim light, you see someone standing.

Mammon.

You haven’t seen him properly in weeks. Your eyes take him in. His body is clad with a fancy buttoned shirt and new pants, his hands holding a bouquet of flowers you can’t quite see. You barely make out a soft smile on his face before the rest of the candles light too, bringing a soft golden glow across the room. 

“Hi.” He whispers.

“Hi.” You whisper back.

He steps forward, crossing the space between you, as he extends his hand. “These are for you.” Your favourite flowers wrapped beautifully with a bow at the stems. You take them from him slowly, your fingers brushing his as you look at each other. 

“Thank you,” you swallow. Looking at him once again, perplexed by his softness after ignoring you for so long.

“Come with me?” he asks, his palm reached out for yours.

You smile, feeling nostalgic, “Sure.”

You both sit down in the middle of the room, a small blanket beneath you. Whatever’s going on, he clearly put a lot of thought into it. “You gonna tell me what’s going on?” You ask, a kindness to your voice you could never help around Mammon.

He grimaces. “I need to apologise to you,” he starts, “I realised something, and it scared me. I didn’t know how to deal with it, and I was so worried I’d lose you, so I decided it’d be best if I just kept away from you.”

You smile solemnly, “Mammon, I already know.”

His face pales, “You do?”

“This is about that woman isn’t it?” You sigh as Mammon furrows his eyebrows in confusion, which you took as denial. He goes to interrupt you before you stop him, “It’s fine. One night when you were in my room, I heard you talking to someone on the phone. You admitted you liked someone, and when I asked you about it you lied.” Mammon frowns as you continue, “I spent that night trying to figure out why you’d lie and who this mystery woman is, until I remembered the day we were walking through Devildom and you stopped suddenly. I looked up and you were staring at some beautiful woman, then after we ran away from her we saw Solomon, and you lied again about her. I know you love her, and that’s why you’ve been avoiding me.”

Mammon is staring at you, eyes wide and mouth agape in sheer bewilderment. “What are you talking about?” You finally meet his eyes, your face now mirroring his own puzzled one. “I don’t love her.”

Now you were really confused, a small “What?” leaving your lips.

He says your name, “I love you.” 

Your body physically flinches at the admission - what is happening?

“That woman we saw was a witch, I owed her money and didn’t wanna get you involved in my mess so I ran. As for that night in your room, I was talking about you. I just knew you didn’t like me back so I distanced myself from you, hoping that those feelings would go away.” Mammon admits quietly.

Now it was your turn to be completely bewildered. Your face suddenly contorts into annoyance when you flick his forehead earning you an “Ow! What was that for?”

“Mammon, you idiot. Of course I like you.” You say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world with a roll of your eyes at both of your foolishness. 

Mammons face suddenly brightens, a huge beam spread across his face. “You like me.”

You shake your head, flustered, “Whatever. You like me too.” You nudge his arm playfully. “Is this why you’re dressed up like a council member?”

“Hey! Just wanted to impress you,” he mumbles.

You giggle at his antics. “I am impressed,” you shake your flowers, “Now your brother’s strange behaviour makes sense.”

He suddenly takes your face between his hands, his thumbs caressing the heat of your cheeks, “I’m sorry I’m an idiot.” 

You snort, “Me too.”

You watch as his eyes flicker to your lips.

“Can I kiss you?”

You slightly nod, frozen in place. He kisses you tenderly as his hands stay firmly on either side of your head, as if he’s scared you might slip away. Your heart pounds as he lowers you fully against the thin blanket, his body flush against yours. 

The kiss turns hungry, months of shared pining pouring out of you both into this very moment. Your hands shake as they unbutton his shirt, each button feeling like a thread slowly unravelling between you. He shrugs his shirt off his shoulders, causing you to look up at him, his muscles carved by the phosphorescent moonlight. 

He takes your shirt off and a glint of something lying just atop your breasts catches his eyes. He delicately holds it with his fingers, “You still have the necklace I got you on.”

You glance down to the necklace of the cosmic rose constellation, the one he showed you in this very room, before replying “Of course I do.”

He kisses you slowly again, his hands reaching behind your back to unclasp your bra. He takes his time removing each strap from your arms, leaving kisses in their wake. 

“Most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” he admits. Your cheeks blush at the sincerity of his words so you pull him to you for another kiss. His fingers curl around the waistband of your pants and your underwear and delicately pulls them both down before tossing them to the side to sit with the pile of your other clothes. He kisses down your neck softly, reeling in the little gasps that exit your mouth. He continues down your body and stops right above the top of your pussy. His hands spread your thighs further apart before looking up at you, “Can I?” he asks, strain etched into his voice. You nod once looking down at him, too overwhelmed to speak. 

His tongue circles your clit slowly, savouring you, savouring this moment. Your head falls back as you let out an airy moan, your fingers immediately threading through the white locks of his hair. 

Your breath hitches at the feel of his long fingers slipping inside of you. “This okay?” he hums against you.

“More than okay,” you manage to moan in response as he speeds up with your approval. Your hips buck against his hand and mouth in desperation, so he uses his left arm to lay across your hips to hold you down. You tremble beneath the weight of him, eyes rolling back at his skilled movements. You groan his name over and over again, like a mantra Mammon can’t get enough of.

“C’mon baby. Let go f’me,” he pleads, watching you writhe beneath him, his own hips grinding against the floor in desperation to feel you. You cry out in pleasure at his words, your orgasm overpowering your senses. Mammon continues touching you until your shaking slows and your breath begins to calm.

He kisses you deeply, the taste of you still lingering on his tongue, but your mind is too full of him to care. Your hands desperately try to unzip his trousers, his breath stammering at the feel of your warm hands against his bulge. He pulls them off his legs, along with his underwear and looks up at your face. You’re too busy looking at the sheer size of him to realise his teasing smile as he watches you stare in wonder.  “This where you get ‘The Great Mammon’ nickname from?” you taunt at him before lowering yourself back fully to the floor.

Mammon is now face to face with you as he squints his eyes, “Haha. Very funny.” You snort, causing him to laugh with you. He kisses you lazily again, heart warm and fluttering against his chest. He slowly jerks his cock as your tongues glide against each other. “You sure, baby?” he asks, desperate eyes staring into yours. 

“Mhm,” you bite your lip in anticipation, eyes focusing on the slight furrow in his brow as he slowly pushes himself into you. Your arms reach up to sit against his broad shoulders, your quivering legs wrapped eagerly around his flexed hips. 

He whimpers at the snug feel of you against him, his hips thrusting slowly as he feels you tighten once he hits a certain spot inside of you. You whine his name, he kisses your swollen lips with a sense of urgency again, before beginning to speed his movements.  

Your foreheads are rested against each other, one of his hands leaving your hips to circle your clit. You involuntarily squeeze him even tighter, your orgasm swiftly approaching with each drive of his cock. 

“C’mon pretty girl. ‘M right there with you. Gimme another,” he pants, desperate for his own release but not before you. Both the increased pressure and nickname causes another orgasm to rip through you, encouraging Mammon’s right after. 

You’re both holding onto one another, forcibly catching your breaths. He slowly pulls out of you, kissing your forehead tenderly. You both lie there for a moment, eyes locked onto the Andromeda constellation, as you hold hands. 

“I love you,” he declares. Honest. Truthful. Unwavering. 

You turn your head to see he’s already looking at you like you personally hung the moon. “I love you too.” You kiss once more, all the things you both have wanted to say untangling into this very kiss. 

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Your heart warms as he helps you put your clothes back on. The clothes feel sticky against your skin and you’re positive you both look a mess. You pick up your flowers that were sat on the side, and you notice the key to the door has been slipped underneath the door. You and Mammon both turn to each other, very aware of the teasing you’re both about to get. 

You both try to tiptoe around the dining hall to your bedroom in hopes of a well needed shower before you hear Lucifer’s booming voice say yours and Mammons name, “Care to join us for breakfast?”

You both freeze and turn around, hair askew, buttons half done up, “Maybe later,” you quietly respond. 

Everyone looks between you and Mammon, very aware of the events that must’ve happened in that room. They all chuckle at you both, just happy the awkward tension between you is finally over. 

“Bye lovebirds!” Asmo cheers, as you both walk away, hand in hand, giggling at each other. 

Each day you stare at his weird expression photo, you somehow got. So your heart can finally move on from him but no! Instead feeling gross, you have started to find photo adorable.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" You clutched your head, after realising how low you have fall for him.

No one would guess you liked him. For starters you never told anyone out of embarrassment and then way you act around him doesn't look very affectionate.

You always scream or disappear from the place whenever he is close too. It looks like you are always throwing him draggers while in real you are just trying to observe his actions.

You can't help it through. You were never with social interactions anyways. You barely talk to your peers and then talking to someone who make sure his every action and word is heard by society, not a chance. You are not taking the risk.

Guess it's one reason why you turn into obsessive stalker type. You kept a small diary where you write whatever you found cute about him throughout the day.

"And then he grabbed a junior by his collar which was wrong but the angle of sunlight made his face so dazzling. Yeah that kid was crying but his smirk face look so good." You scribbled smiley, before stopping for a moment to re-read what you have written.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" You pushed the diary away and questioned your sanity. Did you just write about his attractiveness while completing ignoring his actions towards junior.

"Ahh I gotta stop this." You were about to put your diary away but then you quickly remember one other moment. You again feel crazy after writing it but then again find something to write. It was a kind of a daily cycle now.

At some point even God got fed up and that's why he finally made the interaction you couldn't make from months.

"(Name) I want you to tutor Reese."

So apparently Reese was failing some of his class (no wonder there) and for some reason you out of everyone was choosen to help him (others were scared of him).

You were happy you could talk to him but you were also scared. You were scared he could tease you or worst even found your feelings.

You were shocked when you officially meet him for first time and he already know your name. How? You are the one who always looks so wary of him and throw him glares. You tried to disagree with the accusations but they are pretty usual.

Tutoring Reese made you realised how good of teacher you can be and you started to feel more comfortable around him. But once he was back to track, you were sad this means no further communication between you both.

"(Name) will you help homework?" You tried to not show but atmosphere around you turn so pleasant even nature was suprised.

After this you finally become his friend (or atleast you think so) and you often spend time to help him with school stuff. People around you were suprised. People who saw your glares towards him, were suprised how he managed to be all buddy-buddy with you. People who saw Reese merciless torturing people, were suprised how you can be so buddy-buddy with him.

You couldn't care about whatever assumptions others had, you were happy to you were close to him (in a positive way) and he didn't intend to torture you. You still harbour feelings towards him but were confused what to do with them.

"You got crush on my brother?" Ahh the smartass younger brother, said with full confidence. You quickly refused through your flustered expression gave it away.

"Drop the act. It's so obvious. And it just shows how big of a dummy my brother is that he can't even notice such an obvious signs." Malcolm nonchalantly said as you feel annoyed that he called Reese dummy,"Ooh?" Malcolm teased and your face started to warm up.

"I think you are a nice girl and for same reason I wonder why you like my brother out of everyone. I doubt anything I say will change your feelings so I have decided to partner up with you."

No one even asked about your opinion but it was nice to have someone root for you tho. You and Malcolm now started to spend more time together something Reese found suspicious since it was sudden and you both barely care about each other's presence before.

#1 Plan : The old I bake these for you ahh the confession cookies. You baked heart shaped cookies for him and write a confession letter which you both together gave to him in a basket. Reese was happy to receive them cause for starters he is always hungry. Malcolm saw him happily munching on them in house and question if he got anything else to which he said no. It was strange. Cookies were almost finished. He started to assumed you chicken out but then he saw his brother wiping his mouth with a pink heart paper and when he asked Reese about him. He told it was a napkin and how nice it was to even put it through he preferred if it wasn't so girly. Malcolm didn't say anything to Reese and had to put stone on his heart to tell you too what happened to your letter.

You started to curse your fate but was almost relief. You would have left the city if Reese would read that and come to you. Malcolm on other hand concluded, you can't write down your feelings and tell him. Infact he doubt even if he read the letter, he would actually understand.

#2 Plan: The poetic confession. So next was to indirectly tell him about your feelings. He can't understand the signs, you can't say direct signs so this was actually difficult one but still what's harm to give it a shot. So you and Reese were studying and then suddenly a pair of two birds sit outside the window. Your eyes fall on it and you remembers Malcolm advice to connect whatever you can in a romantic way and compare it to Reese and you. You told Reese about the birds outside and told him how you could like you both to be like them, only to third bird to interfere and one of bird to flew away with it. Reese don't want to be a bird, they ain't faithful.

#3 Plan: Almost confession. This one was quite simple. You confessed your feelings but act like you don't realise it. You don't even know if Malcolm got another plan after this one. There are many ways to confessed but there aren't many ways Reese would get it or you can do it. You were walking after school together. You were restless whole walk, you were just giving yourself courage to do it. Reese notice your determined but nervous expression and started to comment on it through you quickly dismissed it.

While Reese being Reese didn't think much of this. You were worried that Reese is now starting to get gist of your feelings. While you were focused in your thoughts, a ball was about to hit Reese quickly pulled and kick it away.

"Damn the kids these days." He mumbled and asked you if you were ok but the admiration in your eyes stunned him for a moment. It was for him, right? You averted your eyes and told him you were alright. Reese looked at your figure for a moment and then say something that left whole world in suprise,"(Name) do you like me?"

"Huh?

Huhh?

HUHHH?"

Your face become pale. As you struggle to say something. Should you agree or disagree? Act like you didn't heard him? Run away and left the city? Did your friendship end? Is he gonna bully you for rest of your life?

"(Name)?

(Name)!"

Your brain errored out and you black out. Just when you think you were finally handling the trouble with your crush, it just grow more!

Lame way to end,,,ikrrrr (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠✧⁠*⁠。