#obm mc

There was no running fast enough, someone was always faster. He could catch up to Mc easily but instead the demon slowed to enjoy this hunt. Mc just wanted to get to class before they were tardy, but someone caught them first. They made it to the gardens where they were tackled and taken to the ground. Mc kicked and screamed in hopes someone would come before their body could be chewed up and swallowed in a way that left them still alive but without a vessel of their own. And then the hands and teeth were gone before they could start their work.

Mammon was skipping class to do anything but work. He wandered around until he heard a familiar voice scream. He was so far away but for every person who was fast, he would always be the one that was faster. He zipped through the hallways and jumped out the window until he threw some disgusting being off of Mc. Mammon's wings beat against the air, stirring up dust. Mammon took a good look at Mc, wanting to make sure they were fine first. They were still breathing heavily but at least they appeared ok, until Mammon noticed where their clothes had been ripped.

The demon got up and Mammon tackled him back to the ground. Mc watched as their heartbeat began to take a normal pace and their lungs remembered how to breathe. They grimaced when Mammon made the demon bite the curb before crushing his skull. Mammon was satisfied before remembering that humans aren't supposed to like violence. He turned to Mc like a puppy that did something bad right in front of their person. Mc didn't seem too put off, watching Mammon was unusually grounding but they had to admit the sounds were gross. Mammon threw the body into the bushes and started talking like speaking normally would fix everything.

"I'm sorry Mc. How about we get home, I'm sure Luci won't mind. Gah, who am I kidding, he'll be pissed I didn't leave any of that dud for him."

Mammon knelt before Mc, not laying a hand on them "May I touch ya Mc? Ya gotta be cold so ya can have my jacket if ya like."

"Yeah, you can touch me."

Despite their assent, Mc still flinched. Watching Mammon be a real demon was distracting them from how sore they felt after running and getting tackled, they were choosing to ignore the ghosts of malicious hands against their skin. Mammon didn't like that they flinched and took it slow as he wrapped them up in his jacket.

"Ya did real good screamin' like that. It must've been impossible to try and summon us while running huh? Well the great Mammon will always hear ya when ya call, got it? And what happened to those defensive spells you learned?"

"Everything went too fast so I forgot."

"That's- yeah, humans don't function very good."

"we really don't."

"Well I will do all the functioning for ya!"

Mammon picked Mc up with a big smile and started heading back to the House of Lamentation "I can even do all the walking. It's not like we're needed at RAD anyway."

Mc looked at Mammon with disappointment "Mammon."

"yah-huh?"

"you have a remedial potions test today."

"Ya got yer shit rocked and yer thinking about my test? think Lucifer can agree yer more important than a potions test. We're going home and watching Fight Club."

Mc smiled a little "if you say so."

Mammon huffed and looked to the side "Well a'course I say so, who else would ya listen to other than the great Mammon?"

Mammon reached the gates of RAD and remembered he could fly, he hadn't even put his wings away since he killed that dude. He stretched his wings out and did a little hop before taking off. Mc stared in wonder at the city below but still had the recent events weigh on their mind.

"Mammon, was it really ok to leave the corpse there?"

"That man doesn't deserve to be buried, the plants will take his corpse so at least he'll have been good for something."

Mc blinked "the plants will what?"

"Take his corpse? Lucifer has the same plants in his garden, Collapsing heart Flower bushes, they can take root in corpses and break it down."

"and this is the knowledge you acquire instead of passing your classes."

"Well I know some things. We can't all be Satan."

Mc looked down and pouted "Well I just want you to pass so we can stay in the same classes. Then you can have an easier time protecting me."

Mammon looked down at Mc with a frown, sensing guilt more than Mc being cute "I know ya want the great Mammon near ya all the time, I am amazin' after all, but running to yer rescue is half the fun. It's the only time people won't yell at me fer jumpin' outta windows."

"You jumped out a window for me?"

"I just killed a man fer ya, 'course I jumped out a window. Would you like me to burn down a church fer ya too?"

"You won't do the dishes for me."

"That's different."

"Oh yeah?"

"yeah, dishes aren't important like your life is, or yer stupid smile, yer laugh..."

"I like your smile too Mammon."

Mammon turned red and stayed silent until he landed near the door to the house. He wouldn't set Mc down even though they were home now and Mc didn't seem to want to leave his arms either. Mc opened the door since Mammon's arms were busy.

"Uh, maybe ya should text Lucifer so he won't yell at us before we get the chance to explain when RAD's over."

"That's a good point."

Mc pulled out their phone and sent Lucifer a short message about how Mammon brought them home after they were attacked. Mammon walked up to his own room instead of Mc's and threw them onto his bed. They laughed and set their phone aside once they hit the mattress. Mammon wrapped them up in blankets but kept it loose, as if he knew their skin was itching with the feeling of hands on their body even though they hadn't said a word of it. Mc appreciated the gesture and hugged one of the pillows Mammon put in the blanket pile.

"I probably should change into something not ripped."

Mammon nodded but looked a little worried to be away from them. He wasn't expecting Mc to go into his closet and wear one of his hoodies.

"Oi! What'er'ya doing?!"

Mc looked up at him innocently as they were swallowed by his oversized hoodie, making them look much smaller than they were "Getting dressed. Your clothes are warm."

"Well yeah but ya coulda asked, stupid human."

Mc smirked and curled up in the blankets again while watching Mammon put Fight Club on the projector. They scratched at where hands used to be without thinking. Mammon sensed a disturbance and was suddenly by Mc's side, pulling their hands away from their arms.

"Mc, stop scratching, you'll get hurt."

"I'll be ok Mammon."

"Not if ya keep scratching yerself like that."

Mammon wrapped himself around Mc, pinning their arms to their sides so they couldn't accidentally hurt themselves.

"Mammon, I'm fine, really."

"I don't believe ya.

Mc gently attempted to push Mammon off but he wasn't having it.

"If I hold all the places he touched ya then he and anyone else can't touch ya there, because I'm already here."

"That's sweet but I need to breathe."

Mammon huffed and loosened his grip. Mc freed their arms and hugged Mammon back, carding their fingers through his hair as they did so. Mammon scooted into bed without letting Mc go. The movie was forgotten and Mc was ready to fall asleep anyway after such exhausting events. They kissed Mammon's forehead before leaning back to rest. Mammon spoke once more when he believed them to be asleep but they heard it all.

mammon is pissed.

he’s slouched against the doorframe of your room, arms crossed so tightly over his chest it looks like he might just tear his own jacket. his jaw is clenched, golden eyes sharp, and his fingers keep twitching—like he's resisting the urge to grab you and ruin your plans.

"ya ain't goin' out like that," he finally says, voice low and firm.

you barely glance at him through the mirror, adjusting your outfit. "yes, i am."

mammon lets out a sharp, incredulous laugh. "the hell ya are!"

you sigh, turning to face him. "mammon, it's just a night out with my friends—"

"yeah? an’ how many guys are gonna be there?"

"i don’t know? who cares?"

he does. he cares. too much.

mammon pushes off the doorframe, stalking toward you, his irritation practically radiating off of him. "ya know damn well why i care," he grits out. "look at ya."

he gestures at you—at the way your outfit hugs your figure just right, at the way your skin glows under the dim lighting of your room. he knows you look good. too good.

and so will everyone else.

"it's not my fault if people look at me," you say, folding your arms.

mammon's eye twitches. "exactly! that's the problem!"

his hands land on your waist, gripping firmly, pulling you close. "i know how guys think," he mutters, voice rough. "they’re gonna look at ya like—like you're some prize to be won."

you blink up at him, a smirk tugging at your lips. "but i am a prize."

mammon glares. "not for them."

"well, yeah," you say, teasing. "i'm yours, obviously."

his grip tightens, a low growl rumbling in his chest. he knows you're messing with him, but it doesn't stop the possessiveness clawing up his throat.

"damn right ya are."

he leans in, his breath hot against your skin. "so why ya gotta go out dressed like this? huh? ya tryna drive me insane?"

"mammon, relax," you murmur, running your hands over his shoulders. "i'm coming home to you."

he exhales sharply, pressing his forehead against yours. for a second, just a second, his grip loosens—like he’s actually considering letting you go.

then his eyes darken.

"nah," he mutters, shaking his head. "i don’t like it."

you sigh, exasperated. "what do you want me to do? change?"

mammon huffs. "obviously."

"not happening."

"babe."

"mammon."

his fingers twitch again. his mind is racing—debating whether he should just ruin your outfit and force you to stay in.

you see the way he's looking at you.

"mammon," you say slowly. "don't even think about it."

he lunges.

you squeal as he grabs you, tackles you onto the bed, pressing you down with his full weight.

"mammon, you are so dramatic—!"

"ya made me like this!" he growls, burying his face in your neck, hands sliding up your sides. "walkin’ around all pretty, makin’ me jealous—what am i supposed to do, huh?!"

you can’t help but laugh, even as he nips at your skin in frustration. "you are jealous!"

"damn right i am!"

his hands roam, gripping at your hips, your thighs, possessing every inch of you.