glitter

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.” Mammon’s 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 Mammon’s 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 Deviltendo 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 painful attempt 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 beautiful one too. A witch he is aggressively in debt to - something you didn’t know.

Without thinking, he grabs your hand, fingers lacing through your warm 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 bot, 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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So he does. He 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. It hits him just then. 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 Belphegor’s 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, a wince appearing on his face.

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’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. 

You’d barely seen him in weeks. Each time you went out of your way, he would be swept off to sign some letters or do some other high and mighty shenanigans he had no time to explain properly to you. You would frown when you just missed him leaving or when he’d cut you off with “I’m sorry, but I must go.” Barbatos would approach you carefully, as if you were an injured animal, and place a pristine plate of almond cookies alongside a perfectly made, black puddle tea in front of you. You’d quietly give your thanks, meeting his understanding eyes, when he offers you a soft “I miss him too” or “He’ll be back to normal before you know it.” 

After you finish your cookies, you’d spend the rest of your evening with Barbatos, he’d show you new recipes he’s conjured and ask for your thoughts to make you feel like your visit wasn’t a complete waste of your time. Despite his best efforts, each walk back to the House of Lamentation dragged on with the overwhelming realisation that Diavolo just doesn’t have time for you anymore.

It’s not like you and Diavolo were dating or anything. The thought had crossed your mind once until the harsh reminder that demons and humans can never be together, especially when it’s a demon of such high power and just an average human, came crashing down on you. Ever since then, you’ve ignored the longing looks, the slight touches, the giggles you share in intimate spaces alone, for the sake of your own mind, and belittled it down to just being good friends.

To make things worse, you weren’t even allowed to come to the coronation, this major event in your good friend’s life, as you were human. Since the war, there were still some demons that attested to humans - many being of high status - and you would be put at risk of being harmed, so it was in everyone’s best interest you didn’t attend. But who were you to follow the rules?

That’s how you ended up here: peering around a decorated pole and witnessing the royal crown be placed atop his bright red hair and between his downturned horns. He begins his pledge, swearing to safeguard the place he calls home until his words die on his tongue.

“I promise to always protect-“

You. 

He spots you attempting to sneakily catch a glimpse of the event. Your eyes meet and for a moment he forgets where he is, and why you definitely should not be here. He watches as your body flinches at his recognition and immediately slips back out through the small gap in the door. He quickly regains himself, suddenly very aware of the unimpressed eyes laid upon him by some members of the council. He continues his oath as he shakes off thoughts of you. 

Next came the after party - correction, a social event for everyone to drink free demonus and discuss whats next for the Devildom. As he’s stood pretending to ignore the Clauderic familys passive aggressive comments thrown directly at his face, he looks over to his favourite demon brothers wrapped up in their own conversations, almost carefree. He feels a presence missing though. Your presence.

He thinks about how you should be here celebrating with him, until his mind wanders back to that moment in the hall, where you deliberately went against orders. 

“I need to leave,” he suddenly announces, cutting off whoever’s speaking to him now as he turns on his feet and walks straight for the door.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆

After Diavolo had spotted you at his ceremony, you speedily left to go back to the House of Lamentation. You knew he would be mad at you, especially when you caused him to stop in the middle of his oath, but you haven’t seen him in weeks. You doubt he’d even have the time to come and express that anger. You lounged on your bed, your eyes stuck to your ceiling and limbs sprawled out as you prayed Beelzebub had kept his promise of sneaking you back some snacks from the party. 

Your door swings open, something you’ve become accustomed to living with hells most dramatic demons, so you make no immediate move to get out of your lazy position. “Beel? You guys are home already?”

You’re met with silence. “Beel-?” You tilt your head backwards, meeting eyes that definitely do not belong to your ginger friend. Hand still gripping your doorknob, Diavolos chest rises and falls, breathless, as you rise to your feet similar to a soldier. “Diavolo-“

“Why did you do that?”

Your sentence dies in your throat. Maybe he did have the time. “What are you-?”

“Earlier. During my ceremony. You snuck in. Why?” Diavolo stares straight through you. His tone harsh yet laced with concern. You suck a deep breath in, your mouth opening just to shut again, thinking of what to say. You haven’t seen this man for more than 10 seconds in weeks and now he’s just here. In your bedroom.

“I told you not to come. Why can’t you listen?”

His tone was baffling to you. You scoff, anger suddenly overfilling your senses. “You’re mad at me,” you pause, eyebrows furrowing, “Because I came to see you on one of the most important days of your life?”

Diavolo shuts the door behind him, stepping closer to you. “No. I’m mad because you keep putting yourself in danger just to see me,” he replies. 

“At least I still make the effort,” you exclaim, holding your head high. 

Diavolo is taken aback by your vexation. Sure he’s seen you mad before, but usually at Mammon for secretly selling your stuff or Beelzebub for eating your lunch. Never like this - never at him. He understands you haven’t seen him, his own immediate disappearance making him just as antsy, but you could’ve gotten hurt, and he would rather die before hurting you. “You need to start listening to me - I’m your King.”

You flinch at his words, causing Diavolo to lower his head - he had not meant for it to come out that way. After a moment, you regain yourself. “Well, I thought you were my friend,” you frown, “My mistake, Your Majesty.” 

Silence falls between you once again. The tensions so thick you could almost smell it. You feel like you can’t breathe in this room, with his distressed gaze searching you, under the heaviness of your shared words. You go to leave before he steps in front of you - the sheer size of him forcing you to avert your gaze at his feet. 

“I haven’t seen you in so long,” you admit, words seemingly pouring out of you, “and I know I’ll be seeing you a lot less now that you’re King, which is fine, but I just thought… I just wanted to see you one more time.” 

A striking awareness dawns on Diavolo: you were willing to risk your life just to see him. 

Diavolo lifts his hand, slowly tucking a loose hair behind your ear to rest his hand lightly on your jaw, tilting it up towards him. He looks into your eyes, the very eyes he dreams about, and sees a beautiful softness in them, a vulnerability. “You’re not losing me. I’m sorry about what I said - it was unfair of me to use that against you. I know I’ve been busy,” he sighs, “and honestly I’ll get busier… but I’ll always make time for you. I can promise you that. I’m sorry you weren’t invited, but seeing you there, it felt right, until I realised I can’t always protect you, and that scares me.”

He rubs the tip of his thumb across your warm cheek as he whispers, “Look at me.” And you do. You see a King. But you also see your closest friend - the man who would risk anything to be around you, the man who left his own coronation to be here, right now with you.

“What about your party?” You ask, puzzled.

“I don’t care about that right now.” 

He lowers his head, his nose just grazing yours, his lips parting slightly. You instinctively close the gap, breathless as your lips meet. Kissing you was intoxicating - something Diavolo was willing to risk anything for. 

He pulls away, his brain fighting his quickening heart; he knew you could never be together, but God did he want to taste more of you. He slowly walks you backwards, hands still caressing your face, eyes fixated on your salivating lips. Your legs buckle once they hit your bed, causing you to sit, your eyeline landing straight on his abs. Your fingers delicately dance across his dark skin, the muscle beneath them tensing with anticipation.

He stops you when he places his hands above yours, almost holding them. You look up at him now, seeing the outline of a lazy smile displayed on his face.

He lowers himself onto your bed, pushing you flat against your back, and kisses you greedily, hungrily. He gently bites your bottom lip with his fangs, causing you to let out a quiet whimper - practically music to his ears. “You’re so sweet.” Desperation overcomes you once you tug his shawl off his shoulders, throwing it to the side, along with your own top and your sensibility. 

“Eager girl,” he chuckles, mesmerised by the slight furrow in your brow as your nimble fingers attempt to remove his ridiculously difficult pants. 

You barely register his teasing with your mind so full of this sizeable man above you. “Sorry. Missed you,” you mumble when you finally succeed in removing his pants. He feels the heat from your palm against his dick, suddenly bringing a very painful thought to the front of his mind: he might never see you like this again. You’ve both always been uncomfortably aware of your differences in this place, the taboo of humans and demons sharing a romantic love for each other, this being much more strict with him being King - the council would never accept a human to be his Queen alongside him. 

“Wait,” he whispers. Your hand retracts as if you’ve been burnt, you look at his face observing a slight lour, the last thing you wanted was to ruin this moment.

Diavolo knows this isn’t right. He knows that it’ll never work out. But God knows he can’t resist you.

Before you can stutter out an apology and offer to end this, he kisses you. A simple, soft, unhurried kiss that causes your brain to short circuit. “Just want to take my time with you.” 

You smile feeling his words melting away your concerns. He gives you one chaste kiss on your mouth before moving his head lower down your neck, peppering kisses along the way. You giggle at the feel, Diavolo takes this moment to give you a small teasing nip on the shoulder, making you shriek “Hey!”

He lets out a breathy laugh before retreating back down your body. He pauses for both of your breasts, alternating between kissing one and simultaneously toying with the other. 

After what feels like eternity, Diavolo is between your thighs, his fingers lightly skating across the soft skin of them. You feel his breath fan over your underwear, “If you want me to stop, just say the word,” he speaks, watching as you nod your head in understanding. He presses his lips against your clothed clit, reeling in the sigh that leaves your mouth. His thumbs then move to hook around the waistband of your underwear, gradually pulling them off your legs, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “So wet, sweetheart”, he notes as he slips his middle finger inside of you. Your teeth bite down hard against your bottom lip once you feel the slight stretch from his gentle penetration. He develops a comfortable pace in and out of you before adding another, watching your face contort in pleasure. 

He chuckles, “That feel good?” 

You respond with a whine, immediately cut off when you feel the warmth of his tongue circle your clit. You feel your whole body blush, your hands gripping onto Diavolos hair, an encouragement to keep going. His fingers hit a spot, one that has you curling your toes and throwing your head back. “There she is,” he muses before going back to licking where you needed him most. 

You can’t even speak with your mind so empty from pleasure. But Diavolo knows exactly what you need - he always has. His fingers continue to flex inside you, feeling you pulse around him. “There you go baby,” he coos, “Show me how good it feels.”

You cum with a strangled moan, your back arching and thighs trembling as they squeeze either side of his head. He doesn’t stop his movements until you cry his name, removing himself from between your legs and coming back up to be face to face with you. “Tell me what you want.”

You frown, isn’t it obvious? “I want you.”

Your eyes dart down between your legs, watching his cock twitch against your slick pussy, and then back up to his beautiful face. He has this charming ease about him, like he was just made to understand you, something you’ve missed from these past weeks. He pushes his dripping tip against your entrance, eyes still connected to yours, love and lust clouding his irises.

“I want you too.”

He pushes fully inside you, your hands clawing at his shoulders to ground yourself. His thrusts are deep, you feel him in every pore of your skin, and he lets out small groans watching you succumb to the pleasure. If your fingernails digging into his skin bothered him, he didn’t show it. Maybe that’s what he needed. A physical reminder struck upon his skin that this had happened. A reminder that you willingly bared your souls to each other - something he will hold against his heart forever knowing after this moment, it will simply be a vague memory of blurred limbs and bleeding hearts.

You wrap your legs around his waist, small gasps leaving your mouth as he drags himself tentatively out of you, just to suddenly push back in and be completely sheathed by you once more. You beg for more, for him to be closer, for anything that he can give you and he does - he wants to give you everything you could possibly dream for.

You feel so deliciously full while he continues, learns what makes you feel good, what makes your whines turn into moans. You’re both entirely lost in the feel of each other, your fingers delicately intertwining with each others beside your head, juxtaposing his harsh thrusts into you. 

He studies you hard, the way you react to him,  as he tries to swallow down the devastating fact that he will never get the chance to see you like this, so vulnerable and open, again. His pace stutters at the emotional turmoil in his head, so he tries to conceal it by kissing your lips softly. Then your flushed cheeks. Then your head. Then your perfect nose. 

The pure kindness of his motions causes you to flutter around him, earning a desperate moan from him as he removes one of his hands from yours to circle your throbbing clit. Your body immediately tenses, the coil in your belly snapping as you squeeze tight around him. “There you go,” he praises, his head hidden in the crook of your neck as his hips falter from his own release following yours. 

You both lie there in contentment, breathing harshly as you come down from your joint high. He slowly pulls out of you and lays on his side to face you, his fingers lazily dancing up your hip. You giggle and bury your face into the arm propping his head up. God, you’re so beautiful.

You peek shyly at his face, seeing nothing but pure infatuation in return, until your gaze lands on his horns. You fully turn your head, “I’ve never seen them so up close before.”

Diavolo immediately knows what you’re talking about and tilts his head ever so slightly to let you look even closer, “Do they scare you?”, he questions airily, frightened of both the sheer openness of the scene before him and your answer.

“No. You could never scare me Diavolo,” you whisper, your fingers timidly skating across the roughness of his horns. “They’re beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

His breath hitches. All sense leaving his head at the brutal honesty of your words. He wants to feel your hands on him and hear your angelic voice speak forever. He needs to watch you bask in your post-sex glow, unknowingly making his heart thump loudly against his chest. He craves your presence in every way you let him.

He loves you. Diavolo, your greatest friend, your King, is painfully and irrevocably in love with you.

He forgets who he is, what duties await him once he leaves these walls, as he stupidly and impulsively opens his mouth. He whispers your name, unwavering, “I lo-“

The deafening sound of his D.D.D rips through the affinity of the room, interrupting his words. You both unintentionally flinch away from each other. The once comfortable silence of your room now instantly awkward; the tranquility engulfing the both of you. You’re ripped from the delusion that this could happen again, that Diavolo would stay. 

Beep! Diavolo watches as you move your gaze from his own to the device, and then straight back to his eyes again. He notes the sudden disappointment in your eyes and the distance begins to grow, like a weed planted in the middle of blossoming lillies. 

Beep! The sliver of moonlight from your curtains infiltrating your room feels like the harsh blinding of an interrogating spotlight, causing you to sit up and cover your chest with the cross of your arms. You feel cold. He feels bitter. Diavolo looks to you, the only future he wants, then back to the pile of clothes where his brash device is hidden, the only future he gets. 

Another beep! You stand, your body acting before your mind has a chance to catch up. Your eyes stay fixated on the ground but in your peripheral vision, you notice Diavolo hasn’t made a single move. How foolish of you to expect him to reach out for you, to tell you none of it matters after this.

He felt as if he couldn’t breathe. He had you. He had you in every way he could’ve and now he was hooked. He selfishly wanted more; you were the most beautiful drug he had ever tasted. He thinks back to just moments ago: when you had so casually and cruelly said he could never frighten you, but when he averts his eyes to you, your inherent discomfort, he quickly realises he had done just that. 

Beep! He stands too now, agonisingly aware of the stretch of space between you. He tries to think of something to say - anything that could reassure you - but fails shortly once he hears you sigh sorrowfully. 

Beep! Beep! His brows furrow as frustration begins to over flood his senses. He’s mad, not only at the dolt disturbing his peace but at himself for being so stupid. He knew nothing good would ever come from this, his brain reminded him of it every few minutes tonight, yet he pushed it down. He pushed it so far down in such a thoughtless manner that he had ended up hurting you. He understood it would be inevitable - him damaging your relationship - but he wanted so badly for it to happen later, so he could still selfishly keep a few moments with you. 

You think about his promise from earlier tonight: “You’re not losing me, I’ll always make time for you” and your heart begins to ache. He still hasnt said anything, God, what could he possibly say to make this better anyway? It’s not like you didn’t know this would happen. 

“Humans and demons will never be allowed to be together”; you had repeated this mantra in your mind so often yet somehow, in these soft, adoring moments with Diavolo, you’d allowed that phrase to slip to the back of your mind. You’re ridiculously hoping he’ll stick to his promise, that somehow he will find a way to fix this and stay here with you. 

Beep! Your mouth begins to feel tacky. It feels like these mere seconds have lasted for hours. You were embarrassed really, that you had allowed this to happen, and that you’re just stood there. Pathetic. Naked. You can’t seem to honestly read his emotions, maybe you never have, so you do what you do best, what you know. 

“Go,” you say, a harsh tone accidentally slipping into the air. You can’t even register your own voice but by the look on his face it seemed to snap Diavolo out of his trance. Unbeknownst to you, it also shatters his heart. He marginally shakes his head, scared to lose you, the best part of himself. “Please,” you beg. You can’t stand being so bare in front of him anymore, the man you’re losing, the man you can now only refer to as your King. 

You turn your entire body away from him. The continuous beeps from his phone maintaining like the rise and fall of a heartbeat monitor, contrasting the numbing death of your relationship, before it had even truly begun. You hear shuffling from behind you, the movement of clothes. You hear what sounds like a sniffle, but whittle it down to your mind playing wicked tricks on you. 

Diavolo is now fully dressed and as he stands to his feet, he can’t help but look at you, one final time. You truly are the most divine being he has ever encountered. 

His clothes feel rough against his skin and his crown feels heavy atop his head. He’s silently begging for you to turn around, to exhort him to stay, to hold his hand and say they can find a way - together.

You don’t. 

His fingers ghost past the marks you left on his shoulder, knowing they’re inevitably vanishing. He wanted them as a reminder that you were really there, that this really happened. Now they only remind him that you too, are beginning to fade right in front of him. He sniffles, tears beginning to well in his dispirited eyes.

He thinks about saying it anyway. That he loves you.

But he knows the damage he’s caused, how irreversible this is and settles for a tragic “I’m sorry,” before walking out of your door, closing it gently behind him. 

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆