You and Mammon decide to practice for your Potions and Hexes Exam, what happens next will shock you!
Alternate title: you and Mammon fuck. (Female Reader)
CW: Aphrodisiac, Penetrative Sex, kindaâkinda dubconish? Oral sex (Both partners receiving), positions, saliva is involved, might be the nastiest thing Iâve written so far. Had to make a fic for kinktober.
Word count: 5099
Potions and Hexes is neither your's nor Mammon's strong suit.
Continuous C's in this semesterâand the latest being a C minusâLucifer's going to put both of you on a performance improvement plan which means supervised study sessions by him.
Hair rises at the back of your neck at the thought. The firstborn's menacing stare as he supervises the two of you; reprimands that sound like death penalties rolling off his tongue.
So, in order to prevent such a travesty from arising, you both are currently in the lab, surrounded by a plethora of ingredients and the musky smell of funny fungi which glows in the dark.
There are candles in this workspace, and you'd normally hem and haw at the safety violations taking place, but this is a realm of demons, and their idea of safety is very different from yours. Just like casually strangling a group of incubi on their first day of the inauguration.
"So," You begin, glancing the shimmering liquid in the pot. "Is it ready yet?"
"Ask me that again and I'll start socking ya everytime you ask."
Mammon's tongue peeks through his lips as he stares at the pot as if it owns him money. The gold in his eyes shines more in this lightning. You settle for swinging your legs and being annoying. You really, really want to flick his forehead, and hmph, serves him right: he just had to drag you to RAD at an hour in which even Purgatory Owls sleep.
"Ta-da!" He exclaims than what is louder than necessary, and you smack his arm. He gets the memo, but turns around to you in such a haste that droplets of it splash on your cheek. "It's ready! The Great Mammon's finally done itâyou outta praise me for raising our grades this semester!"
"That we'll know once the desired effects are achieved." You say, swiping your finger over your cheek to collect the liquid and inspect it in the candlelight. Looks about right, smells right too, notes of Hell Jasmine pleasant to your senses. The demon's beaming at you in triumph, and you watch him babble more as you suck on the finger. Sweet and sour flows on your tongue.
Mammon's words stutter to a halt then, and you raise your eyebrows. "What? Did you add the wrong ingredient or something?"
He shakes his head. "Dammitâforget itânothing. What I meant is that we can clean up now."
"Shouldn't we test the potion first to ensure it's the right one?" You grab the ladle sitting on the tray, scooping some of it and pouring it into two small bowls. The exam includes testing the potions made on the students themselves, after all, and this is something you both will have to recreate tomorrow. Quality checks are necessary.
Quite an effective policy, youâd say. Let students face the consequences themselves to ensure they donât fuck up again.
You hand one to Mammon, who downs it without hesitation. You barely have started sipping yours.
He's smacking his lips now in appreciation of the taste; but a faint aftertaste lingers in your throat. You can't name the ingredient, it wasn't there when the teacher had made it.
"What did you add at the end?" You inquire, looking over the table where everything lies scattered. The ingredients are the correct ones, and the preparation was something you and Mammon had drilled into your 'thick skulls', as Lucifer claimed. The demon's leaning back on the chair, hands behind his head as he rocks it. Looking too pleased with himself.
"Everthin's been followed according to protocol, relax. Taste's fine, look's fine, smell's fine." He drawls on, and then adds. "If somethin' were to go wrong we won't be here sitting normally."
You open your mouth. Then close it.
"I suppose you're right."
He makes an offended noise behind your back as you put the ingredients back in their places, you chose to ignore it.
Fungi in the box, starter liquids in the cabinet, utensils in the drawer, apron hanging on their hooks. Everything spick and span so that no one doubts you. Even Barbatos wonât be able to figure out, you dare say.
You clean the counter with a rag. "We should go out after tomorrow's test is over. I'm thinking....Hell's kitchen."
"Mhm. I'm craving their burgers."
You could tell him you want to go to the outermost circle and dance with basilisk and he's follow you.
After having cleaned up, you and Mammon go back home, sneaking over the iron gates (which always cream in an ominous welcome) and go back to your beds. Everyone's asleep at this hour, and no one should doubt you.
Minty toothpaste that once belonged to Mammon, hair pulled back by a hairband that Asmodeus has given you. At this ungodly hour, your eyes should be heavy with sleep. Yet, you feel more awake then ever.
Tomorrow, you'll sail through the exam smoothly with Mammon's planning. And then Hell's burgers, with their tangy sauce that is a symphony of flavours on your tongue, and the satisfaction of getting your cake and Mammon's hands as they hold your chin to tease youâwhat.
You spit out the toothpaste and blink.
Focus, MC, Focus!
You rinse your mouth after, place the toothpaste back in the stand and plop on the bed in hopes of getting some sleep. But then your body heats up all over as if youâve just taken a hot shower.
And your limbs donât bother consulting your brain after that.
Mammon barely gets a moment to open the door before you're jumping on him.
"Heyâwhat'sâwhat's wrong?"
You shake your head, nuzzling into the crook of his neck as he's forced to walk backwards towards the bed, narrowly avoiding the clothes and consoles on the floor. "I feel so hot. Fuck, warm all over." You mumble, inhaling the scent of his skin. Mammon falls on the couch with a wheeze, and you take the chance to bite into the skin which you had been nuzzling.
"Ack! What's gotten into ya!" He barely manages to pry you off his skin to hold your face. "I'm not food!"
You look....flushed, for a lack of a better word. His hands run warm, but your skin feels even hotter to the touch. There's a haze in your eyes which seems too much like a fever, your breathing's uneven too.
He places a hand on your forehead. "You sick or somethin'?" Furrows his brows and tries hard to gauge whether you're sick or just drunk off some ingredient which was left unmarked in the kitchen. He'd just have to label the items next time.
You grab his palm just to nuzzle into it. Then he remembers that it was raining yesterday afternoon when you had come back from the market. Mammon gives you a pointed look: the one given when you go and do something reckless. âI told ya not to go out in the rain earlier! That's what happens!"
His cheeks feel warm.
"M' not sick.." you whisper into the palm, pressing a kiss to the skin there. You stretch your thighs wider to accomodate your frame on his lower half. "You'reâIâugh, I need you."
You're whining into his skin now, and Mammon can't help but gulp at the close proximity of your body to his. Being this close to you, with all your attention on him, without anyone intervening, it's everything he's ever wanted. Just you, always you.
He manages to steady your movements which have turned more into grinding. Hand on your waist, the other holding your face. You're so close that your breaths mingle.
Shit.
Then he catches a whiff of it. Intoxicatingly sweet like Asmoâs perfume but with a sharpness that cuts through the saccharine. Itâs on your breath, and if Mammon leans close enough he can almost taste it.
"Did ya drink any blood poppy syrup?"
He racks his mind as to where you would have found it.
"Does it matter?" You groan, grabbing his thumb just to suck on it. "Don't go around asking questions now." You say with your thumb in his mouth, and the vibrations go straight to his blood.
You resume your movements, and Mammon stiffens.
Catches the implication.
He has to stead his breathing lest it turn erratic, barey manage to keep you at a respectable distance even as you try and try to be close. Has to admonish the demon that wants to claw his conscience away. Donât you fucking dare. You can't, MC's not in the right state of mind, and there's a test tomorrowâ
"We can't, I can'tâyou're under an aphrodisiac, MC." He says, though it sounds muffled to you. Everything is muffled except for his scent. "You're not thinking straight right now. Come on, let's get ya to your bed." He attempts to stand with you in his lap, but barely manages to get up halfway before you push him back down.
"No!" You hiss, slapping a hand over his mouth. "I don't want to sleep. I want you!"
Fuck, and you're being so blatant about it too.
But you've always been blunt.
He removes it. "You're under the effect of a syrup!"
You groan. "And you were under it too once!"
"What are ya exactly suggesting?!"
Do exactly what his Master had desired. Even then, even now, heâd fall to his knees faster if it means you are pleased. But back then it was just a kiss. Even if he'd let you take what you want from him, and you would let him do the same.
And patience runs low in the exchange student. So MC settles for grabbing his hand, on which the rings feel so blissfully cold against the warm of their skin, and settle it right in between their legs, their core.
Mammon can only swallow dumbly.
Wide-eyed, he stares at your clothed cunt, mouth dry. You've never looked more sure of anything in your life, and when he drags a thumb across your clit mindlessly you gasp.
"Good, that's good." You mutter, settling your hands on his shoulders. "Mhmm, more, please." You look too much like one of the cats that purr when Satan's fed it treats.
He stares at you.
Then, he lurches.
Mouth on yours before you can blink, his weight and gravity throwing you with your back on the mattress. Your senses are filled with him, him, him. The feel of his lips on yours, the lip balm's (your lip balm) flavour, and the mint from the toothpaste still lingering.
You kiss back, lips gliding against his.
You nip his lip, and he whines; the sound reverberates in your skin. Put his knees between your own legs, holds your hands in his own as he angles your face. His hair tickles your forehead.
You pull him back by his hair.
Only to lunge at his neck.
Soft kisses pressed to his neck, bitter perfume on your tongue. He whines again, and you kiss his Adam's apple. Smile as you nip there too, and it bobs under your touch. You make him turn over now, muffle his yelp by swallowing his sounds with your mouth.
"You'reâ" He grumbles, which turns into a moan when you bite his chest. "You're not playing fair." It's whinier than intended.
"When have I ever?" You smirk as you say it, pressing kisses to his stomach, shirt all bunched up. His sweats are loose on his hips. You nuzzle into his crotch, inhaling deeply, his bulge hot and hard in your face.
Whatever retort Mammon had on his tongue stops at your action. Brain freezing as he watches you devour him whole.
You lick along the clothed length, and the demon's hips jerk. "Fucking hell.." He groans, letting you untie his drawstrings and pull the garment down along with his underwear, impatient as ever in discarding it somewhere across the room.
He thinks heâs in a dream during some moments, except the heat in in his core is very, very real.
You hold the length of him, hot and heavy, using your thumb to swipe at the head, smearing precum. Mammon makes something akin to a half-growl, half-whine and cups the back of your head. Your fingernails dig into his thigh as you steady yourself, hot breath on his cock.
"Please, MC, IâI'llâdon't fuckin' stop! Iâll do whatever ya want, just pleaseâ"
You press a kiss to the tip, smirking up at him. Tongue darting out to trace the vein there, eyes never leaving his. There's a flush to his cheeks, the weight on your head light, tracing the shape of your skull. You suddenly feel as if you're stripped bare. So you lower your head to suck at one of his balls, jerking the length of him slowly, precum and your saliva making it a smooth glide.
Above you, Mammon sounds half-ruined already.
And you haven't even taken him properly yet.
"Feels good?" You mutter into his skin, and then break off only to take him in your mouth, tongue moving around the head. His hips jerk sharply when you do that, and the tip reaches the back of your throat. You gag, but do not relent.
You place your palm on his thigh for a better grip.
Mammon leans back on the bed to watch you. There's a flush on your face too, pupils dilated as sloppy sounds reach his ears. And your mouth, god that sinful fucking tongueâ
"Aah!"
His thighs tremble as you swirl your tongue around him. Straining with the effort of not just bucking in your mouth immediately and rutting into your throat. You look at him, and think, âbig mistake,â because when he already looks so ruined just because of your tongue, you want to be cruel.
Deny him what he wants, just to see him grovel. Coo and nip at his skin and claim your ownership. Your first.
âOkay,â he laughs shakily, breaking off into a moan when you hum. âCome on, get up, I wanna feel ya now.â
Insistent as ever, you ensure to suck his tip again, marvelling the flush on his visage before detaching yourself and wiping your mouth. âClose already.â
âShut up.â Mammon pulls you up in his lap, placing your legs over his hips. One hand cupping your head and the other your ass as he tastes himself on your tongue. Bites your lower lip just like you had done, doesnât break away and smiles when you whine.
You fed him pawing at your tits through your nightshirt, groping and breathing heavily. Youâre not wearing a bra right now, and Mammon noticed. He pinches a nipple and you hiss.
âGet them off.â He grunts, impatient, and when you move to pull off the garment he beats you to it, getting it off your head and throwing it somewhere on the couch.
Then proceeds to stare at you slack-jawed.
Holy fucking shit.
"I know honey," you quip, amused and a little flustered at his reaction. His eyes keep darting from your breasts to your face, and Mammon can't decide where he wants to look at. You'd be embarrassed, but with Mammon there's no such thing as hiding yourself. It's never been so in the past, why should it differ now? You can give and give and he'll gladly take what you give him, ever-greedy for more.
His left hand comes to grasp at one of your tits, the metal on his rings cold against the heat of skin. His touch is reverent, careful, and then he's coaxing you to bend forward, shift your weight to your legs and his upper body as he palms your back in encouragement. "That's it..." he breathes out, your chest finally in his face. His breath hits your skin as he takes a nipple in his mouth, tongue laving over it.
He gives the same attention to the other one, biting you lightly. You moan and pull at his hair. There's a wetness blooming in your core, and you wonder if Mammon can feel it. Your scent. When he hums in satisfaction, the sound reverberates through your bones. And then he's sucking and nipping at the area.
"Mhmm, Mammon..." you mumble, letting yourself grind in his lap. You want more.
He pulls off with a wet pop, darkened skin already blooming on your chest. Kisses your sternum and inhales your scent as if he'll die without it.
"You want more, huh?"
You nod feverishly. "Please, more, I want moreâah!"
He slaps your cunt. Grins at you like he just won a trophy. "Already so wet f'me. Haven't even touched you there yet properly."
Then in a flash, Mammon has you on your back on the bed, a pillow conveniently placed under your head already. Removes your pants too. He opens your legs wider and sits in between them.
There's a sharp curse that spills past his lips at the sight.
You're so fucking wet that it's visible through the fabric, the outline of your pussy so enticing. Your scent heavy in the air. Yours, and it's all for him (not for his brothers but for him and him alone).
You want to close your legs in embarrassment. You want to grab a fistful of Mammon's hair and shove his head in between your thighs and keep him there, keep that mouth of his occupied, which can spill words which might make you laugh sometimes, ruminate some other moments and indulge in tomfoolery all the same.
Your thighs move before your brain can process it. "Tch." He clicks his tongue, holding your legs only to settle your thighs on his shoulders. The soles of your feet on his back. "I've finally got ya here like this, and now you're going to hide?"
His tongue darts out to lick through the fabric, and your brain nearly combusts.
Mammon moans below you.
Nuzzles through the fabric, nose rubbing on your clit. His fingers dig into the plush of your thigh as he holds you closer. Wanting more, true to his nature and always so greedy. He nips at your inner though and you cry out, but then the sensation of his tongue soothing the mark renders you speechless.
When his lips suck your clothed core, you moan. "FuckânghhâMammon!"
"That's it, juusst like that babe." He smirks, the self-satisfied one where he's just won a gamble or gotten what he wanted. "I'm going to take good care of ya."
He snaps the band of your underwear, chuckles as you jolt at the slight sting. You tighten your thighs around his head, watching him grunt in surprise, caging him in in retaliation.
But when he pulls the gusset of the fabric aside to finally, fucking finally put his mouth where you desire it the most, all is forgiven and forgotten. His tongue laves over your drooling pussy all over, tracing the shape of his name. Pulls you a bit closer by your thighs just so that he can suck on your clit.
"Fuck." You cry out softly, eyes closing.
You jolt when you feel his finger slipping in, and you're so wet that there's no resistance, just the sloppy sounds of your cunt taking him in. "You're so wet, MC." He moans, more to himself than you. "And ya taste divine."
He adds another finger, scissors you gently, coaxing you open for him. Curls his fingers justtt right and hits a spot that makes your knees buckle.
Your cunt throbs. "Agh, shitâMammon, right there!"
"Shhh," he laps at your clit, twisting his fingers at the same time. "Gotta open you up to take my cock like a good little human." Sucks harder, making your thighs tremble and your fingers gripping his hair tighten. "You like it, don't ya? Of course you do, pussy's leakin' all over my hand."
You rest your head back on the pillow, eyes closing in bliss. You're so close right now.
"W-Wait!" You say abruptly, and Mammon halts in his movements.
"WhatâWhat happened?! Did I hurt ya? Shit sorryâ"
You coo, gently removing your legs from his shoulders. "No, no, baby, you never hurt me." He pulls out his fingers, shiny and slick with your arousal as you shift. Gossamer strands which catch the light.
"Want your cock, please." You pant, eyes blown wide. Mammon gapes at you in astonishment. Grabbing his fingers which had been inside you moments before, you place them in your mouth, tongue swirling around them to taste your own arousal. The demons swears he will combust this very moment. Fuck, you can't just go around and take his fingers in your mouth like that while staring at him with those eyesâ
You pull off with a pop. "Please?" You say, knowing that he'll give you whatever you want anyways. Be it jewels, food, himself even.
"You just can't......" He trails off, then shakes his head. Laughs softly and then pulls you in his lap. "Come here, MC."
Hot and heavy against your cunt. Soft yet firm at the same time.
Your arousal coats his cock, and when you make the slightest of movements he groans. Looks down at the sight and moans, moving you on his lap.
"I can't wait any longerâneed you so bad babyâpleaseâ"
"Shh."
You soothe, grabbing his cock to place it against your entrance. The head briefly catches on your clit and the both of you hiss in sensitivity. You glance at Mammon then, watching his face shiny with a sheen of sweat, pupils blown wide and hair a mess. Your bitemarks on his neck.
You inhale, then slowly sit down on his cock.
The stretch is unlike anything you've ever felt before. Burns, but in a good way. Uncomfortable, but you'd not have it any other way. The earlier penetration had helped.
Mammon doesn't touch you, only watches you take his cock in your pussy like a good little human. His human.
Shit.
Then, without any warning, he grabs your shoulders just to pull you towards him.
In a grip that screams 'I need you otherwise I will combust.'
The movement makes you sink further down till the base, and you gasp. Your ass against his thighs, skin to skin like it was always meant to be. Your sound is swallowed by his own as he plunges his tongue in your mouth, hand in your hair as you angles you better. You let him do it all, breathing heavily as you are devoured whole.
All teeth and tongue, he's in the mood to take and take and take.
Drool slips down your chin, towards your neck. Mammon laps it up to you. Burrows his face in the crook of your neck, flustered suddenly. "Shit, we really are doing it."
You laugh softly. "No shit, Sherlock. You're balls deep in me." He makes a choked sound; pulls you even more closer as your tits press against his chest.
You lean back a bit while he massages your hip. "Does it hurt?" He asks, eyes flitting over your expressions for the most minute signs of discomfort. You've always had a habit of hiding your own problems from others, while being the first to help others with their own.
"Not really. The stretch is kinda uncomfortable. Give me a minute to adjust." You feel so full.
His lips are warm against your neck as he bites and sucks, even more hickies blossoming on your skin. Soothes the sting with his tongue and blows on it.
You take the initiative to move, given his heavy breathing, and the movement evokes a moan out of you both.
"MC, yaâfucking squeezing my cock, ha," he gasps, hands on your sides. "Fuck, you look so pretty like thisâall f'me."
Rutting your hips against his, everything is overwhelming. The heat of his body on yours, the almost-burning heat of his palms on your sides, thumb underneath the swell of your tits. And the way he makes such pretty noises.
"Could sayâhaâthe same for you too, Mammonie," you blurt, slowing your movements just to grind on him. "Such a pretty man."
At the nickname, he pulls you forward, plants his feet firmly on the bed just so that he can match your pace, let his hips roll to feel you and your velvet warmth. He hits a spot that makes you gasp, breath catching in your throat.
His smile turns sharp, then he's doing it again and again, pinching a nipple as he abuses that one spot over and over again.
And your moans and cries are his reward, of course. "You're so mean!" you cry out, even if your hips meet his own movements in sync.
"Demon, remember?" he rasps, impatient in pulling you forward just so that he can drive his tongue down your throat. "I'd never act otherwise."
You wrap your arms around him, chest to chest now, meet his eagerness with your own and be a bit mean in biting him.
The force of his thrusts rocks you, tits bouncing as his pace turns frantic.
You pull at his hair and he groans, giving you no warning before he's turning you over on your back, pulling your legs over his shoulders.
And when he moves again, the angle allows him to go deeper than before.
"FuckâMammonâthat's, that's good." You cry out, hands scrabbling at the sheets for purchase, anything to ground yourself when faced with the extent of his lust. He's panting now, skin shining with a sheen of sweat that you want to taste. You must be clenching your thighs together because when your legs tighten around his head he moans.
His balls slap against your ass, and the lewd sound of skin meeting skin echoes in the room. The fabric of the bed is wet, you can feel it dripping down.
"Fuckin' hell, look at you," he grunts, pulling at your hand with blind enthusiasm so that you can hold his hand instead of gripping the sheets. "All fucked out already and I haven't even made you cum yet."
He kisses your hand, shoves two of your fingers in his mouth just to suck and lick on them. His mouth is so warm too, you dumbly observe, brain stuttering.
You pull him closer by his hand with a muffled yelp, slam your mouth against his and shove your tongue in his mouth. He has to bend to meet your demands
A whine spills past his lips, and because in this new angle with your legs bend to your chest, folded in half and nearly being fucked into the mattress by the force of his thrusts, you can't stop the moan that the action evokes.
"What happened to-to that mouth now?" You gasp, smile on your lips in satisfaction. The sloppy sounds of your cunt should make you embarrassed, but all you know is the way his cock drives into you and reduces your shame to mush. Mammon can only whine. You're being so mean, mean, mean. "You're going to cum, baby?"
"Please, MC, baby, pleaseâoh fuck." He feels his balls tighten, and then his gaze falls on the Cheshire grin on your face. You look so pleased with yourself, slapping his face lightly as encouragement.
Without any warning he shoves two of his fingers in your mouth, presses down on your tongue and ignores the way the vibrations of your sounds make him want to hiss in pleasure. You gag when he nearly reaches your throat, hooks a fingers on the side of your cheek and lets the drool coat his fingers. "I should keep you here like thisâahâall fucked out and drooling for me. Pretty pussy's already begging for me." He snickers, then looks down where the both you meet. "And look, you've made a mess of the sheets already."
You roll your eyes. Moments before he was the one whining and begging. You bite down on his fingers and he hisses, lets you gag once more on his fingers before adjusting himself just to slam into you harder. Your eyes are glossed over, pupils dilated as he meanly thrusts again, making your legs tremble.
He removes his fingers from your mouth, smears the saliva on your tongue just to lick your lips after. So fucking nasty.
You dart your tongue out to meet his, drool slipping down your chin and onto the pillow. Sneak a hand down to rub at your clit, already sensitive.
Mammon sees it, and he's sliding a hand down to meet your own, guiding your movements just to rub circles with your fingers on your clit. The dual sensation makes you gasp. Your cunt feels so full, your senses are filled with him and him alone.
"I'm going to cum," he grits out, and you palm his head just to pull him closer, speak against his lips.
"Go on, Mammon, I've got you."
And then he's whining and moaning in your mouth as he ruts into you like a man crazed, bed creaking with the movements. More slick drips down the sheets, skin meeting skin echoing in the room. You feel your lower half throb.
When he rubs your hand against your clit you groan.
"That's it babyâoh, good boy! Right there, Mammonâyouâ"
Your breath stutters halfway through your throat as your eyes close. Your cunt throbs and clenches hard around him, making him moan too. More liquid gushes out, desecrating the sheets further. All you can feel is the crash of your orgasm, the way his cock feels so right against your walls.
And then, what follows is overstimulation.
Mammon doesn't stop thrusting, if only, it spurs him on. Faster and faster as he chases his own high, whining so pretty in your mouth and swallowing your cries. Angles his hips and gropes your tits, blindly fumbling for any part of you that he can grasp to ground himself. When he cums, he does so with a strangled cry. His cock twitches inside you as he releases inside you, some of it already spilling out and coating everything a mess of shiny white.
You both stay there for a few moments to catch your breath, heartbeats going back to their normal rhythms. He's still pressing kisses to your throat, down your collarbone and on the top of your chest where your heart is. "Thank you, thank you, fuck, that was everything." He mutters into your skin.
I should be the one to thank you, you want to say.










