Chapter Text
"Psst…"
"Psst...hey...are ya awake…?"
"...Hey…hey..."
You awoke to a bright light being rudely shone directly into your eyes. Without thinking about it, you groaned and turned over, pulling the covers over your head. You were about to fall back asleep when someone yanked the blanket off of your upper body.
"Don't ya dare go back to sleep!" The voice, which you were now able to identify as Mammon's, shouted.
Taking your sweet time, you slowly sat up and turned to see the demon in question standing next to your bed. He was holding his D.D.D. in hand with the flashlight on and aimed at your face. Mammon was wearing a tank top and sweatpants that appeared to be hastily put on. Glancing at the clock on the wall, you noted how it was still the middle of the night.
You growled and reached over to push Mammon's D.D.D. down. Thankfully, he got the hint and turned off the flashlight, putting his device away. Despite his...generosity, you were finding it difficult to appreciate how he was interrupting your sleep. "No, I will not buy any of your NFTs," you mumbled, shifting yourself to lie back down.
"D-don't!" Mammon shouted, jutting his hands out to stop you. It worked. Unamused, you glanced from his hands, which were positioned on your chest and stomach, to his face. Mammon jumped back and straightened up, shoving his arms behind his back, "Gah! I…I didn't mean…!" Although your room was practically pitch black, you could tell that he was probably blushing.
You waved away his stuttered apology, "It's fine, Mammon." He shut up immediately but didn't dare to move a muscle, "Just tell me why you're here, so I can…" you yawned, "...go back to sleep."
The demon smiled, taking your permission as a cue to plop himself down next to you. "First of all, I ain't sellin' NFTs," he said, ignoring your attempts to pull the blanket from underneath his butt. "I don't even know what they are," he added as an aside.
"Cut to the chase," you grumbled, giving up on the blanket--and the prospect of a good night's sleep altogether, "What do you want?"
Mammon's demeanor changed, as he stared at his hands in his lap. He squirmed, and you noticed how he was trembling slightly. Your previous annoyance melted away when you realized that something much more serious might be at stake.
You placed a hand on Mammon's shoulder in an attempt at a comforting gesture. Instead of being comforted, though, Mammon yelped and jumped.
"Oi! W-w-why'd ya do that for?!" He shouted and whipped his head to glare daggers at you. Unfortunately for Mammon, with his shivering figure and wide eyes, he looked more scared than particularly angry.
"Jeez, Mammon," you held your hands up, "Are you alright?"
Mammon frowned and shook his head. "I'm fine; I swear!"
You gave him a look.
"Look, I-I just came here to check up on ya, alright?" He shot up from the bed, "And I see that you're completely fine, so I guess I should be goin’ now!"
Seriously? For some inexplicable reason, you had a difficult time believing him.
Before Mammon could dart out of your room, you grabbed his wrist and dragged him back down on your bed. He lost his balance and awkwardly landed on top of you. For a few seconds, Mammon stayed completely still, his head resting on your collarbone. You let him have his moment before shoving him off.
“Why do you want to check up on me ?” you questioned. After gaining his footing, Mammon sat back down on the bed. He made sure to move the blanket from underneath him this time, which was nice.
He scratched his cheek. “Well, ya looked pretty scared when we were watchin’ that movie earlier.'' Curiously, Mammon seemed unable to look at you directly in your eyes, “So, the Great Mammon decided to pay ya a visit to make sure you’re okay,” he hesitated for a split second, “Maybe offer some protection if you needed it. Pretty nice of him, huh?”
Ah. Now you understood what he was babbling about.
Earlier tonight, you and the rest of the brothers had another one of your usual movie nights. This time it was Belphegor’s turn to choose, and he selected a classic ghost horror flick. The movie wasn’t particularly scary, save for a few grotesque jump scares, but you seemed to remember how Mammon was practically quaking in his boots the entire time. He jumped and squeaked every time a ghost popped up on the screen. A part of you believed that Belphegor purposely chose the movie just to mess with Mammon.
When Satan chastised him for spilling his third bowl of popcorn, Mammon was quick to deny how terrified he was. He then got up in the middle of the movie and left, claiming that he felt tired and was going to hit the sack early.
Evidently, that was a lie, considering how Mammon was currently sitting on your bed right now hours after the movie had finished. He gripped the edges of your mattress and blankly stared at the wall on the other side of the room. Yeah, Mammon needed help. Your first instinct was to reassure him that ghosts weren't real and couldn’t hurt him, but that would be a lie.
There was only one thing you could do. You sighed and pulled down your blanket. Patting the space next to you, you muttered, “Come here.”
Mammon tensed up at the sound of your voice and slowly turned his head toward your direction. He blinked a couple of times and glimpsed at the spot you were patting. “What are ya implying?” he whispered, his voice trembling slightly.
“I’m implying that you should come here and sleep with me.”
“Don’t say it like that, dummy,” Mammon said under his breath. Nevertheless, he crawled underneath the covers, anyway, and settled himself in the empty space. He pulled the blanket up to his chin and practically sighed in relief, finally allowing himself to relax.
You chuckled softly and laid down next to him. “Comfortable?” you asked, turning your body to face him.
With newfound confidence that seemingly sprung out of nowhere, Mammon smirked, “Extremely.” After a brief pause, he added, “I told you that ya needed protection by the Great Mammon.”
Rolling your eyes, you resisted the urge to argue that it was indeed the other way around. You held your tongue, not because he was right, but rather because it was pointless to disagree. Mammon’s stubbornness was easily your most and least favorite aspect of his personality. You knew that he would deny until the end of time that he was the one that needed to be protected, much like a princess needing to be protected by a knight. A soft smile tugged on the corners of your lips as you imagined Mammon in a frilly princess dress. He’d probably rip the outfit in a way that would expose his chest, but he would look nice in the attire, nonetheless.
“Hey, why are ya lookin’ at me with that dopey grin?”
Now that your faces were mere inches apart, you could clearly see the blush that plagued his cheeks. His words were harsh, but judging by the way he was biting his lip in anticipation, you could tell that he was just embarrassed. Or perhaps waiting for things to escalate.
“Nothing,” you answered, turning your gaze away. Out of the corner of your eye, Mammon visibly deflated, and you bit the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from laughing out loud. “I was just wondering why that ghost movie scared you so much. It didn’t seem that bad to me.”
Mammon scoffed, as a haughty frown took over his entire expression. “I ain’t afraid of no ghost,” He grumbled into the pillow. You ignored how he didn’t acknowledge how you asked about ghost movies and not ghosts themselves.
“Really? So if I told you that there was a ghost right behind you, then you wouldn’t be afraid at all?”
“Where?!” Mammon barely let you finish the first part of your sentence before shrieking. He refused to look behind him and launched himself at you. He buried his face in your chest and wrapped his arms around your waist, squeezing the life out of you. With Mammon’s body pressed against yours, you felt his chest move wildly with terrified breaths through the thin fabric of his tank top.
You froze in shock, not expecting Mammon to have such a visceral reaction to your little prank. In an attempt to comfort the quivering demon, you draped an arm around him so that you were both hugging each other. After a beat or two, Mammon peeled his head away from your chest. Interestingly enough, he made little effort to move the rest of his body away from yours.
Mammon huffed and glared up at you through his white bangs. In a small, bashful voice, he whined, “That wasn’t funny.”
“I know. I’m sorry.” You hoped that Mammon would understand that you were being genuine and hadn’t meant to actually scare him. You didn’t realize just how freaked out Mammon was by that movie. Although you found his irrational fears to be quite cute, you didn’t want your teasing to turn into bullying.
“If ya were really sorry, then you’d find a way to make it up to me.”
Relieved that he wasn’t truly upset, you asked in a lowered voice, “What do you want me to do?”
Mammon pursed his lips in response, seemingly lost in thought as he tried to conjure up what task he wanted to give you. His eyebrows knitted together in pure concentration, and you could practically see the gears turn in his head. Once again, you found yourself having to stop yourself from laughing. It was clear that he was putting a lot of thought into this.
Finally, after what felt like centuries of waiting, Mammon opened his mouth. You waited in anticipation, only for him to close it again. He pressed the side of his face deeper into the mattress. If you hadn’t known any better, you would have thought that Mammon was trying his best to disappear into the sheets.
After taking a deep breath, he squeezed his eyes shut. In a quick jumble of words, Mammon squeaked, “Iwantyoutokissme.”
Oh, Mammon.
Sweet, precious Mammon.
Unable to hold back this time, you burst into laughter. “Is that all?” you asked, still giggling. If Mammon wasn’t already nestled snugly in your arms, you would have scooped him up already.
“N-no!” Mammon shouted defensively, clearly embarrassed by such a request, “I also want ya to, um,” he glanced up at the ceiling, almost as though another suggestion would manifest in the air, “I-I want ya to take over bathroom-cleaning duty from me for two months!”
You stopped laughing, and now it was your turn to (playfully) glare at him. Usually, the brothers and you rotated who would clean the communal bathroom on a weekly basis. Yesterday, however, Mammon had managed to destroy the bathroom with a certain, cursed bath bomb that he had stolen, er, borrowed from a shady store downtown.
He had tried to keep it hidden, but it was hard to disguise the pink, sticky goo that covered the entirety of the walls, floor, and ceiling. When Lucifer caught wind of what Mammon had done, he made Mammon clean the bathroom by hand and had given him bathroom duty for two months straight.
And now Mammon was trying to sic his punishment on you.
You stuck your tongue out at him, “No, of course not. I can’t do all your stuff for you.” You booped him on the tip of his nose, causing Mammon to gasp in protest. Before he could fully complain, you continued, “What would Lucifer say?” Probably give Mammon an even worse punishment, if you’d be entirely honest.
Despite your grievances, Mammon didn’t seem too deterred, “One month, then!” he quickly added, “And you have to help me durin’ the second month.”
Pondering his offer for a moment, you nodded and said, “Deal!”
Mammon went silent and muttered the next part so quietly that you barely heard him, “When are ya gonna kiss me, then…?” He puckered his lips, and you knew exactly what he was expecting. Unfortunately, for Mammon, you were quite the nonconformist.
You leaned over and planted a soft kiss on his forehead. Mammon whimpered at the unexpected contact and once again buried himself into your chest. His grip on you deepened, as he pulled you against his body. Chuckling, you squeezed him back and rested your cheek on the top of his head. The wisps of his hair brushed against your face and you planted another, sneaky kiss on the top of his head. How generous you were for giving him two kisses for the price of one.
“M-maybe,” Mammon said as he broke the brief second of tranquility. His voice broke and he had to clear his throat before continuing, “I could stay here for the night. J-J-Just for ya, though! ‘Cause ya seemed pretty scared earlier.” He repeated himself for good measure, “You. Not me. You.”
Nodding along, you grab the edge of the blanket to tuck it under Mammon’s chin. He gulped but allowed you to do it, anyway. “Sure, Mammon, whatever you say,” you agreed, patting him on the cheek, “Now, go to sleep, please. I’ve been awake for far too long.”
Mammon murmured, “Fine, but wake me up if ya need somethin’.” He closed his eyes and relaxed into your embrace. You didn’t want to sleep just yet, just in case Mammon was still freaked out.
While you were waiting, you reached over and started to play with the strands of hair on the back of his head. He melted in your touch, too sleepy to complain like he normally would. He whispered something incoherently, as he leaned back slightly, silently asking for more. You obliged. After a few minutes, Mammon’s breathing slowed and evened out. You waited until you were certain that he was sleeping before closing your eyes. Your last thought, before you fully drifted off, was a vague wish for Mammon to have sweet dreams.