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It had been several months since the incident™️, and Mammon (unbelievably enough) hadn’t breathed a word of it. Rayfa thanked her lucky stars for that every day. She really didn’t need the whole Devildom knowing what had transpired that night.
Anyway, her days at the House of Lamentation had gone pretty much back to normal—or at least, as normal as they could be—and life was relatively peaceful.
Until halfway through that god-forsaken fourth month.
Mammon, that fucking asshole, had started playing a little “game” with her. He’d make some seemingly offhand remark—innocuous enough—but secretly laden with implications that he knew Rayfa would pick up on. Sly bastard. Even just thinking about it made the girl want to string him up from the ceiling like Lucifer always did.
Rayfa sighed. She could probably count on the fact that Mammon was too much of a tsundere to ever say anything outright, but subtle as they were, the demon boy’s teases were really starting to get out of hand. He had only begun messing with her a week ago, and already the sly little remarks were driving Rayfa absolutely crazy!
Like what had happened on Monday.
“Are we still on for drinks tonight?” Beel had asked, innocently enough.
Earlier that day, he and Belphie had invited the two of them (Mammon and Rayfa) out for a night of drinks at Hell’s Kitchen.
“For sure!” Mammon had answered casually. But then he’d locked eyes with Rayfa and smirked. “Haven’t been able to stop thinkin’ about it.”
“Great! Then Belphie and I will see you there.” Beel had smiled, completely oblivious to the underlying meaning behind Mammon’s words.
But Rayfa knew.
Or the other day, at dinner, when Lucifer had set down a basket of garlic-butter-and-boar’s-blood breadsticks. (Rayfa had taken to calling that particular marinade “garlic-blooder”.) Mammon had grabbed one before the basket even touched the table and had taken a delicious doughy bite.
“Mhmmm,” Mammon had emphasized smugly, licking his lips slowly—purposefully—before garlic-blooder could dribble down his chin. “I’ve been cravin’ this like crazy lately.”
And Rayfa just knew he wasn’t talking about the breadsticks.
• • •
It was an average Friday afternoon when the girl finally snapped.
It happened right smack in the middle of the common room. Belphie was sprawled out across one of the two parallel couches, lazing about. The centermost sofa, the one directly across from the fireplace, was rather cluttered as well. Not taken up by any individual, but occupied instead by stacks upon stacks of papers. (And nobody was brave enough to touch those. Messing with Lucifer’s unfinished paperwork was a death sentence.) Rayfa herself was seated on the third couch, texting back and forth with Yuki, but (unlike Belphie) she wasn’t lying down, so there was plenty of space left. Mammon, of course, took advantage of that, flopping onto the couch beside her. Rayfa smiled kindly at him. She didn’t mind sharing the space. But then Satan walked in, and the girl scooted over to make room. It was, after all, the only available seating. As soon as she’d moved though—and saw that mischievous glint in Mammon’s eyes—she instantly regretted her decision.
“What’s the big deal, movin’ away from me like that?” Mammon teased. “You know I don’t bite, Ray-Ray.”
Rayfa had had enough.
She stood abruptly, praying to Michael that Satan and Belphie wouldn’t notice how flushed her cheeks surely were. She hated how effortlessly Mammon was able to reduce her to an embarrassed little puddle.
“Mammon!” Rayfa hissed under her breath, just loud enough for him to hear. “Come!”
Mammon let out a yelp of surprise as his body obeyed on its own, practically tripping over his own two feet to follow her as she stalked angrily out of the room. He silently cursed the invisible chains that bound him. Nine times out of ten he liked having a pact with Rayfa—was proud of it, even, always boasting about being her first—but right now? As he stumbled blindly through the halls, body awkwardly trying to keep up with her agitated pace? He couldn’t help but lament the freedom to walk on his own.
“Oi! Slow down! Where’re ya even takin’ me?”
He received an answer only when Rayfa pushed past a familiar door and barged inside. A pool table, a projector, and a Demonio 666 Lexura greeted them. Ah. Home sweet home, then.
Rayfa slammed the door shut behind them, then whirled around to face him. Her cheeks were flushed and she looked relatively breathless, but Mammon knew that her expression was more from embarrassment (and exertion — thanks to that all-too-brisk pace of hers) than actual anger. He didn’t regret a thing. Pink looked good on her.
Rayfa leveled him with a glare, and as soon as it became apparent that she wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon, Mammon felt the lingering pinpricks of her command start to fade away. Pact commands, when not carried out of the demon’s own volition, felt fuzzy. Static-y. Like a faint electrical current running through the body. Never painful, but something the demon was always acutely aware of—like when your foot falls asleep.
“You seriously need to stop!” Rayfa chided him, her annoyed voice snapping Mammon out of his muddled musings.
“Stop what?” Mammon replied dumbly.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about!” Rayfa accused.
“What? Pffft-! Nah! It’s not like I’ve spent the week makin’ subtle but very deliberate comments about wantin’ ya back in my belly or anythin’! Nuthin’ like that at all!”
Mammon had always been an absolutely god-awful liar.
Rayfa threw her hands up into the air with exasperation. “That’s precisely what you’ve been doing, you jerk!”
“W-Well, yeah, okay, maybe a li’l…”
“Just please stop making those god-forsaken comments!” Rayfa beseeched him. “There are plenty of other ways for you to mess with me, okay? You don’t have to pick the single most embarrassing moment of my life! I mean-” Rayfa barked out a laugh. “It’s not like you actually want to eat me again, right?”
Mammon stayed shamefully silent.
“Right?”
Rayfa hated how she felt like that one Padme meme.
“I- I didn’t want to wanna eatcha again!” Mammon stammered out defensively. “’Least, not immediately. But then I kept thinkin’ back on how good havin’ a belly fulla human felt…” Mammon grumbled. “And now I can’t getchur damn taste outta my head!”
“Mammon!” Rayfa scolded. She really thought they’d moved past the days of him debating eating her.
“It’s harder than ya think!” Mammon fired back. “Comin’ to terms with the fact that sumthin’ so appetizin’—sumthin’ bein’ dangled right in fronta me—is sumthin’ I’ll never get to eat again! It’s fuckin’ torture, Ray!”
He sounded so beyond aggrieved that Rayfa actually felt kinda bad for him. Especially when she recalled a comparison he’d made way back when they still barely knew each other:
“I mean, it’s like havin’ a premium-grade roast Iriomote musk hog right in front of me. Medium rare, cooked to perfection. But I can’t have it.”
They had both grown tremendously since then.
For starters, Rayfa was certain that Mammon no longer viewed her as food. He was absolutely adamant that humans (including her) were ungodly delicious—that stance hadn’t changed one bit—but he at least recognized her as a person now. As a friend. He pretended not to care about her, but Rayfa knew the truth. Because even when he had literally eaten her, she hadn’t felt like food. He hadn’t treated her like food. As soon as he had gotten over the unprecedented euphoria, he’d calmed her down, apologized fiercely, and had made sure Rayfa knew he wasn’t going to hurt her—using the same familiar banter they always used.
Touched by how delicately he’d chased away her worries, Rayfa found herself reflecting back on the incident™️ more often than she cared to admit.
It was obvious (in retrospect) why Mammon had felt that he’d had to swallow her back then.
She’d been protected (thanks to the spell) but hadn’t been made invincible. Protection spells were always finicky like that. The caster needed to have a specific vision in mind of what was to be protected against. One single possibility. And unable to know for certain what danger(s) their attackers posed, Mammon had opted instead to protect her from a known danger. Himself. That way, he could safely use his body to shield her.
If they hadn’t gotten lucky—if Mammon’s demon form hadn’t been enough to send the bad guys packing—then the Avatar of Greed likely would’ve gotten into a physical confrontation with them. Anticipating the worst, there had really only been one thing to do. Tuck her away somewhere soft and padded. Somewhere she wouldn’t be accidentally crushed or knocked out of Mammon’s hands—doomed to plummet thousands of feet to her death. Pockets were too risky, too easy to be jostled out of, and unlike one particularly fashionable demon brother, Mammon didn’t own a satchel or a messenger bag. Which meant that the demon’s stomach, unbelievably enough, had been the objectively safest option.
So yeah. She’d allowed it. Had even thanked him for it.
And, if Rayfa was being honest with herself, she hadn’t even totally hated it.
But she’d be damned if she ever let Mammon know that!
“Well, tough luck.” Rayfa crossed her arms. “The next time I let you eat me is when pigs fly.”
“Wait… really?!” Mammon gasped excitedly. “That’s all it’ll take? Ya promise?”
He looked fucking overjoyed to have been given such (apparently) easy terms, and Rayfa suddenly felt guilty for misleading him. Even if only accidentally.
“Lemme just borrow a spellbook from Satan real quick and I’ll have ’em ready for ya by-”
“It’s an expression!” Rayfa hastily clarified, hating how much of an effect it had on her when the demon’s handsome face fell. “But even so, I’m sorry for getting your hopes up. I didn’t think flying pigs would be so easy to come by.”
She apologized earnestly, but the damage had already been done. Her beloved Money Man was practically despondent.
“Oh, come on, Mammon! You know I didn’t mean to lead you on!” Rayfa pleaded with him. “I swear! It’s just an idiom people use to dismiss scenarios that aren’t likely to happen. It’d be like saying: The next time I let you eat me is when you behave yourself for a week.”
And just like that, the hope came rushing back. Mammon’s dark eyes gleamed. He had already been burned once though, so when he spoke again, the words were guarded. Hesitant.
“So you’re sayin’ the chances are slim… but not zero?”
Rayfa wanted to insist that—no, the chances were zero, that was the whole point of the expression—but dammit! She couldn’t bring herself to crush his spirit like that. Not a second time. She decided the least she could do was humor him.
Besides! It wasn’t like he’d actually be able to last a week.
“You know what? Sure. If you can stop causing trouble for one full week—” Hm. A good start. But not nearly enough. “—and you stop making those sneaky little quips about eating me…” Rayfa pursed her lips. “...then I’ll consider it.”
“Seriously?!” Mammon was practically bouncing off the walls.
“Seriously.” Rayfa confirmed. “But! If I win, you’ve gotta take me out someplace nice—your treat.”
“Deal!”
Mammon cracked a grin, feeling like the cat that caught the canary. What Rayfa failed to realize was that her little “ultimatum” was really more of a win-win, as he liked spending nights out with her. Yeah, he wasn’t looking forward to paying—that part would suck—but that kind of risk wasn’t anywhere close to a dealbreaker.
“Just watch me, Ray!” Mammon proudly proclaimed. “I’m gonna be an even more proper demon than Lucifer himself!”
“Mm-hm,” Rayfa hummed skeptically.
“You’ll see! One way or another, next Friday night, we’re gonna be havin’ a dinner date.” Mammon flashed her a cheeky grin.
“Mammon!”
She was trying her damndest to sound angry, but Mammon could detect her underlying amusement.
“Um…” Mammon chuckled sheepishly. “Starting now.”
Rayfa laughed and shook her head. “You’re not gonna last an hour, Money Man.”
• • •
He lasted more than an hour.
• • •
Just as he’d vowed, Mammon was verily on his “best behavior”. He even managed to power through—twice—where Rayfa thought he would surely fail.
First, there was the minor incident.
It happened on Sunday. Rayfa really thought he was gonna lose when Levi cornered him outside the dorms and demanded that the Avatar of Greed repay him. But Mammon, shockingly enough, had come prepared.
“Ah, yeah, gimme a sec-”
Mammon awkwardly patted himself down, searching for something. Eventually, he found what he was looking for in the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a classy brown leather wallet. With what looked to be bite marks on it, for some reason. Even before he cracked the money-holder open, Rayfa could tell that the thing had been stuffed to the brim with cash. Mammon miserably grabbed a generous handful and shoved the Grimm towards Levi.
“That should be enough for ya, yeah?”
Levi’s dark amber eyes went wide and he squeaked out an astonished: “This-! This is more than double what you owed-!”
He looked about ready to pass out.
“Wait, wha-?!” Mammon nearly doubled over at the realization. “Then give halfa it back!”
“Lololololol. Nope!” Levi decided flippantly, all too happy to have put one over on Mammon for once. “Consider the extra cash interest—to make up for how long you kept me waiting!”
And then the Avatar of Envy was gone, probably already off to go buy some more Ruri-Chan merch from Akuzon.
Mammon groaned, sticking the visibly less-stacked wallet back into his pants pocket. “’Least he’ll stop naggin’ me to give it back now…” He side-eyed Rayfa, who was trying her best not to laugh, and grumbled forlornly: “Is this whatcha want, Ray? For me to go broke?”
“’Course not, Money Man! I still need you to pay for our date Friday night,” Rayfa teased.
“Yeah right! If anyone’s gonna be payin’ on Friday…” Midnight blue eyes twinkled dangerously. “It’s gonna be you.”
The double-meaning certainly wasn’t lost on her, but Rayfa refused to let herself be intimidated. “We’ll see about that.” She retorted confidently. “You’ve still got five long days to go.”
• • •
Then, there was the major incident.
Rayfa really thought he was gonna snap when the poor demon got dragged into a fight that—originally—he hadn’t even been a part of, but yet again, Mammon hadn’t broken character.
The HoL residents were all gathered at the dining room table, awaiting dinner—sans Lucifer (who was having tea with Diavolo).
“Asmo–” Beel prompted. “I’m hungry. When are you going to get started on dinner?”
Asmo looked perplexed. “Whatever do you mean?”
“It was your turn to make dinner,” Beel explained pointedly.
“Originally, yes, but I asked Levi to take over for me,” Asmo shifted the blame. “And he agreed, so the burden falls to him.”
“But then I traded shifts with Satan!” Levi defended. “When I remembered that the anime adaptation of The Angel Is A Part-Timer was premiering today, I messaged Satan as quickly as I could! And he agreed to swap with me!”
“That’s certainly true,” Satan acknowledged. “However, the responsibility is no more mine than it is yours. In lieu of making dinner, I visited the library to return some books that were nearly overdue, yes. But before I left, I made certain I tasked Belphie with taking over for me.”
“Hm. Yeah. It seemed like an easy favor at the time…” Belphie recalled drowsily. “...but even just thinking about getting started wore me out. So I pawned things off on Lucifer.”
“Belphie, dear-” Asmo approached him gently. “I want to believe you, but I simply can’t picture Lucifer—of all demons—skipping out on kitchen duty for a tea party with Diavolo.”
“Oh wait…” Belphie yawned with careful consideration. “Now that I think about it, that may have just been a dream…”
“Of course that was a dream!” Satan snapped irritably. “In what universe would Lucifer volunteer himself for such a menial task? That self-righteous bastard thinks chores are beneath him!”
“You can say that again,” Belphie snickered.
“Um, guys?” Levi awkwardly piped up. “If Dream Lucifer isn’t going to cook dinner, then who is?”
Beel’s stomach practically roared and the poor red-headed demon let out a pitiful moan: “I’m hungry…”
“Well!” Asmo huffed. “Don’t look at me!”
Satan glowered at them. “If any of you dare to insinuate that the burden falls to me-”
“Well, I’m not cooking either!” Levi stubbornly refused.
Beel’s stomach growled again—louder than even the fight breaking out—and Levi turned his attention towards the Avatar of Gluttony.
“If you’re so hungry, Beel, why don’t you cook?”
Beel brightened at the invitation and looked like he absolutely would have taken Levi up on that, but Belphie quickly shut him down.
“Are you stupid, Levi?” Belphie scoffed. “If Beel takes over, there won’t be any dinner left for the rest of us.”
“Quick to criticize, yet slow to offer up any kind of solution.” Asmo clicked his tongue disdainfully. “Unless you’re volunteering to cook?”
“Decidedly not,” Belphie dismissed with a lazy wave of his hand. “That’s way too much work…”
“Then who the fuck is gonna cook dinner?!”
And from there, they quickly descended into anarchy.
Mammon, who had miraculously avoided confrontation, seemed plenty content to kick back, relax, and let the chaos ensue—though he did experience a very brief moment of panic when Asmo realized the perfect candidate to cast blame onto.
“Why can’t Mammon cook tonight?!”
After all, the best they ever got along was when they were all at odds with Mammon.
“Me?!” Mammon blurted out incredulously. “Why should I hafta be the one to-?!”
But he quickly clamped his mouth shut. He’d lasted several days already. He wasn’t about to lose now.
Thankfully, Satan (whilst throwing shade at Asmo) inadvertently saved him. “For once, that scumbag has nothing to do with this! You, on the other hand-!”
And back to fighting they went.
Mammon looked ready to grab a soda and a bowl of popcorn. Rayfa kicked him under the table and sent him a disappointed glare.
“Oi! What’ddya do that for?” Mammon yanked his legs back, affronted. “I ain’t arguin’!”
“Well, yeah, but Lucifer’s not here right now.”
“What does that hafta do with anythin’?!”
“You’re the next oldest,” Rayfa reminded him. “Which puts you in charge.”
“Damn straight!” Mammon affirmed proudly, completely oblivious to what she was getting at. “But why’d ya hafta kick-”
“Because they’re your responsibility!” Rayfa gestured emphatically towards the other five seated at the table.
“You’re askin’ way too mucha me, Ray…” Mammon grumbled as the pieces finally clicked for him.
“Look. I’m not going to count this against you,” Rayfa decided, trying to be fair. “Not yet—‘cause for now, things are still pretty tame. But depending on how out of hand they get…”
Mammon glared at her. They both knew the demon brothers got rowdy fast. He had five minutes—at most—to fix things, lest Rayfa count the debacle against him. Mammon groaned, resigned.
At least the solution was simple.
“...I can do it.” Mammon begrudgingly volunteered.
Instantly, the table fell silent. All eyes were on him. Levi was the first to speak:
“Are you… trolling us?”
“I wish,” Mammon muttered under his breath. “But seriously. I gotcha covered. Dinner’ll be ready soon.” And he slowly got up from his place at the table and started making his way towards the kitchen.
“Really?! Oh, Mammon, I could kiss you!” Asmo squealed. “We totally owe you one!”
“Nah. You don’t owe me nuthin’.” Mammon waved them away. “’M just takin’ responsibility.”
Satan choked on his drink. Beel and Belphie shared a look. Rayfa sat quietly twiddling her thumbs. It had officially gotten to the point where the brothers were starting to realize that Mammon wasn’t acting out of character on a mere whim. That there was a reason for it.
As soon as they were confident that Mammon had fully left the dining room to make dinner—and was thus out of earshot—Rayfa found herself confronted. Belphie was the first to broach the subject.
“How did you get Mammon to…” He gestured for somebody to pick up where he’d trailed off, not entirely sure how to describe the sudden behavioral change.
“...to stop being Mammon?” Beel finished for him, straightforward as always.
“Why do you assume I had anything to do with it?” Rayfa beat around the bush. “Maybe he just decided to turn over a new leaf.”
“LMAO!” Levi stared her down. “But no. Seriously. What did you do?”
Rayfa laughed. Yeah, she had known that they weren’t gonna buy that, but she liked messing with them. They did probably deserve a real answer though. “We made a bet.”
“Oh?” Satan learned forward, curious. “And the terms?”
“He’s not allowed to cause any trouble for an entire week!” Rayfa dished gleefully. “No stealing, no pranks, no disobeying Lucifer! He’s already held out for way longer than I thought he would, but I’m not too worried. It’s only Tuesday. There’s plenty of time left for him to slip up.”
“I don’t know, Rayfa…” Beel warned, chewing thoughtfully on the super spicy newt chips he’d cracked open while his brothers were arguing. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Mammon this determined before.”
“Which begs the question,” Satan hummed. “What exactly did you promise him should he win?”
“Rayfa!” Asmo gasped, scandalized, before Rayfa could even begin to scramble for an answer. “You didn’t agree to sleep with him, did you?!”
“What?! No! Of course not!” Rayfa squeaked, face burning red at the mere thought.
“Asmo, think-” Belphie scoffed, tapping a finger to his temple. “This is Mammon we’re talking about. The question isn’t what she bet. It’s how much.”
“Actually, I-I don’t think she wagered any Grimm…” Levi spoke up shyly. “To get Mammon to pay me back, she would’ve had to have offered him more than he owed, and that’s money she just doesn’t have…”
Rayfa mentally face-palmed. Why did Levi have to be so annoyingly perceptive?
“N-N-Not that I’m saying you’re broke!” Levi hurriedly tacked on, clearly worried that he’d offended her. “Mammon just owed me a shit-ton of money.”
“Yeah, you’re not wrong,” Rayfa sighed. “I didn’t bet Grimm.”
“Then what?”
“What I wagered is between me and Mammon,” Rayfa mumbled bashfully.
She looked away to hide her blush as the mere memory of their terms brought a fresh shade of pink to her cheeks. That golden sparkle that’d twinkled in his eyes as he salivated at the thought of eating her again was entirely too much for her to think about right now.
“It’s not anything you guys need to be worried about though, I promise.”
Beel hummed. “Yeah, I guess you’re probably right.”
“It certainly stands to reason.” Satan concurred with a curt nod. “Considering that fool made a goddamn pact over a credit card, we can reasonably conclude that the stakes today are equally irrelevant.”
Oh, thank god.
“Awww! But things would’ve been so much more exciting if we found out that Rayfa had some scandalous little secret~” Asmo teased the idea.
“For the last time! It was nothing sexual!”
• • •
The week continued (and eventually concluded) without incident. Rayfa was shooketh. Mammon had actually done it. Even after the other Avatars had learned the parameters of their bet—and had deliberately tried to trip him up once or twice for Rayfa’s sake—that stubborn son of a bitch had persevered.
*knock* *knock* *knock*
Ah, speak of the demon.
“It’s unlocked!”
Unsurprisingly, her late-night visitor was Mammon. He pushed open the burnished wooden door that led to her room and leaned casually against the door frame.
“Well?” Mammon smirked, obviously proud that he’d managed to reign himself in.
“You didn’t cause any trouble all week,” Rayfa acknowledged with a civil nod. “I’m very proud of you. But-”
Mammon frowned at that.
“I’ve decided that I would really rather not be eaten. Better luck next time!”
“Oh no ya don’t!” Mammon rebuked, taking a threatening step towards her. He kicked the door closed behind him without so much as sparing a glance, then slowly, intimidatingly, approached her—one step at a time. Rayfa backed up a few steps of her own for every one he took, until eventually, her back struck the wall. But Mammon didn’t let up. “I knocked it outta the park this week!” He exclaimed indignantly. “Ain’t no way you’re goin’ back on whatcha promised me!”
“Technically, I didn’t promise you anything.” Rayfa cheekily stuck her tongue out at him. “I only told you I’d consider it.”
“You oughtta consider yourself lucky I ain’t tearin’ ya to shreds right now!” Mammon growled, crowding even further into her space. “’Cause all that behavin’ worked up one helluvan appetite!”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah!” Mammon slammed his hand against the wall next to her (for emphasis), inadvertently trapping the girl kabedon-style. “You’re goin’ down the hatch whether ya like it or not!”
It was an empty threat and they both knew it. Rayfa need only command him with their pact, and Mammon would be forced to obey like a dog. But because of who he was, Rayfa was fairly certain that if she just asked him not to eat her—and made sure he knew she was serious—then he wouldn’t think twice about backing off. He’d still be mighty pissed that she conned him into a week of generosity, but he’d find some other way to pay her back for it. He would never do anything that’d make her outright uncomfortable just to get even.
But Rayfa didn’t tell him to stop—with the pact or otherwise. She just stood there, blushing fiercely, trying her damndest to keep a straight face. Mammon caught on pretty quickly, though.
“So you are lettin’ me eatcha,” He realized softly, voice barely a whisper.
“Yeah, I am.” Rayfa laughed airily. “You’ve earned it.”
Mammon leaned closer, and for the briefest of moments Rayfa thought he might kiss her, but then he suddenly seemed to realize their positions.
“D’ah!”
Mammon flusteredly scrambled backwards, arms snapping back at his sides like a toy soldier to release the fated kabedon. He was red all the way up to the tips of his ears, and the demon pointedly looked away as he muttered bashfully:
“Sh-Shoulda fessed up sooner, stupid human! I’m hungry, ya know!”
“Oh, don’t even start!” Rayfa bantered back with a laugh. “You teased me relentlessly last week with all of your... ravenous remarks. It’s only fair that—this week—I get to tease you back!”
“Such cheeky li’l prey…” Mammon tsked. “You really think ya can get away with teasin’ THE Mammon without any conseque-”
“Just hurry up and eat me, you dork.”
“Y-Yeah, okay.”
Mammon made to speak, then faltered. Opened his mouth, then closed it right back up. A troubled expression appeared across his handsome face.
“You do know the shrinking hex…” Rayfa checked. “...right?”
“O-Of course I know the damn hex!” Mammon alleged, never to be doubted.
“Then what are you waiti-” Rayfa let out a giggly gasp as Mammon shamefully slipped his phone out of his pocket. “Are- Are you seriously looking it up on your D.D.D. right now?”
“My memory’s a li’l foggy, all right?” Mammon finally grumbled out the admission. “’M just makin’ sure I’m a hundred percent on the details. Ya know I ain’t good with hexes an’ stuff…”
“You knew the protection spell just fine!” Rayfa pointed out.
“Yeah, but that was different…” Mammon mumbled out quietly, suddenly shy. “’S the only spell I ever bothered memorizin’.”
Oh damn.
The unspoken implications made Rayfa lose her breath.
“Hm. Alright. Looks easy enough…”
Mammon’s voice brought her back to reality as he met her eyes and began to whisper. Words soft, captivating, magical. First the shrinking hex, then the protection spell. As the words were breathed into her, Rayfa watched on with wonderment. The world around her grew dizzyingly bigger, until finally she stood at the same height as one of Levi’s prized figurines.
“Hey, Ray,” Mammon whispered breathlessly, towering over her even as he leaned down for a better look.
“Hiya,” Rayfa mumbled back shyly.
“You, uh, really are small, huh?” A sudden surge of overwhelming protectiveness swelled within him, seeing her all tiny and defenseless like that. “Ya probably won’t even be enough to fill me up…”
She absolutely would. He was just trying to deflect from how unabashedly fond his voice had become, desperate not to let any tenderness show. Tsundere brat.
“’M gonna eatcha anyway though.”
“Never doubted it.”
Mammon fidgeted nervously. A few times he actually moved to grab her, but he always chickened out.
“S-Stop lookin’ at me like that!”
It’d been so much easier to eat her when she hadn’t known what was coming. ‘Cause now that things weren’t so spur-of-the-moment, Mammon felt ungodly apprehensive under her gaze. He’d worked hard all week to get her to agree to this, but now that they were actually here? Now that Rayfa was looking up at him all expectantly, ready and willing to be eaten?
Oh fuck. Mammon didn’t think he could do this.
Rayfa stifled a laugh when she realized just how nervous he was. Worried about what she’d think of him now that she’d actually have time to process being eaten. She didn’t tease him though. Rayfa had already done more than enough of that. Instead, she let her eyes fall swiftly closed—an unspoken declaration that she trusted him—and spoke kindly.
“Whenever you’re ready, Money Man. No rush.”
Remarkably enough, knowing that she had her eyes closed helped a lot. Mammon carefully scooped her petite little form up into cupped hands. She could feel the cool metal from one of his rings against her skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of his palms. Mammon smiled fondly. She was such an accommodating little human. More than he deserved. Not that he’d ever tell her that.
Rayfa felt herself being slowly raised up towards his lips, and felt the tantalizing humidity wash over her when Mammon opened up. His breath smelled nice—minty—and Rayfa let out a little laugh when she realized that he must have brushed his teeth right before stopping by her room. Of course he had. It was almost like he was nervous for a first date.
Mammon carefully tipped the girl into his mouth, then waited (uncharacteristically patiently) as Rayfa settled herself atop his tongue. He made sure that she was out of nipping range before finally clacking his teeth together, and Rayfa, out of sight now, curiously opened her eyes. Not that she could see anything. It was practically pitch black inside the demon’s drooly maw.
Saliva quickly pooled around her, and Rayfa rolled her eyes as the demon hungrily lapped up her flavor. He ran his tongue teasingly up and down her little form, slathering her in a thick/gooey layer of drool, and Rayfa swore she heard an amused little exhale from him when she petulantly shoved back at the tongue. A delicious hum of approval vibrated around her, and Rayfa felt herself blush, not totally hating the way the needy little sound rumbled through her body.
Eventually though, Mammon brought his playful sampling to an end, knocking his head back to properly angle her for descent. He squashed her temporarily against the palate—to keep her from slipping down prematurely—then began gathering up enough saliva for a good strong starting gulp. As the drool slowly puddled beneath her, Rayfa took a moment to breathe. Her heart was beating faster than usual—she could feel the damn thing pounding in her chest—and the worst part was, she knew her crazy high BPM wasn’t entirely out of fear. Because the last time Mammon had eaten her, after she’d gotten over her shock, things had actually felt kinda…
Nope! Nuh-uh! Not doing this right now!
Rayfa let out a squeak of surprise as Mammon finally swept the rug (his tongue) out from under her, sending the girl awkwardly sliding straight towards the back of his wavering throat. He swallowed thickly around her, to give her a little push, and Rayfa scarcely had time to think before she was greedily engulfed—surrounded on all sides by tight, hot, slick muscle. Mammon let out an audible murmur of gratification as she was slowly squeezed further and further down his throat, and Rayfa smiled despite herself. It felt kinda nice, knowing that she was the reason her demon was so totally over the moon. Just barely, she could feel him tracing her path down to his stomach.
Mammon was such a dork that, at times, it was easy to forget he was a demon. But right now, as Rayfa slowly slid down his gullet, the truth was hard to deny. There were parts of him that were just... fundamentally demonic. Like how unabashedly comfortable he felt swallowing live prey. It reminded Rayfa that her blushy li’l tsundere was, in fact, one of the Seven Rulers of the Underworld.
The reminder didn’t scare her, though. ’Cause demon or not, he was still Mammon.
The Avatar of Greed finished swallowing her down a few seconds later, proudly releasing a pent-up little puff of breath. Somewhat spent, he let a doting hand fall to rest atop his stomach as he felt her pooling inside.
“...Awaahwahhawhhh…” Mammon slurred happily, totally blissed out. “...susch guhd…li’l preyh…”
Rayfa couldn’t help the soft giggle that slipped past her lips. It was kinda cute how Mammon fucking melted upon eating her—like he couldn’t handle how tasty she was. She wanted to ask him a few things now that she’d been properly stomached, but her questions would have to wait. Mammon was still waaay too hung up on post-meal bliss to properly formulate words. What a dork.
In the meantime, Rayfa amused herself by tracing patterns along the walls, letting her hands roam free. Even with a relatively fuzzy mind, the demon seemed to register (and really enjoy) the attention, so Rayfa dutifully kept up her massage. Eventually though, the feisty little human grew impatient, tired of waiting for Mammon to strike up the conversation, and took matters into her own hands.
“Heyyyyy, Money Man,” Rayfa shoved out at him gently, after maybe a minute had passed. “You able to talk yet?”
“Yeah, ’m good,” Mammon replied, rubbing over her affectionately. It felt surreal, knowing that the warm weight that’d settled in his belly was Rayfa. He pressed at her fondly through the layer of flesh, just enough to visualize how she was curled up down there. “Jus’ needed a second to catch my breath. Haven’t felt so nice an’ full in forever.”
Rayfa practically preened.
See? I knew I’d be enough to fill you up.
Mammon leaned back and stretched, and Rayfa slid as the stomach stretched with him. Satisfied little noises of strain echoed around her, and (a few seconds later) she felt Mammon collapse back onto her bed like he owned the place. Rayfa laughed and shook her head.
“Worth the week of being on your best behavior?”
“Oh definitely,” Mammon purred, and Rayfa could feel the boy contentedly rubbing his belly again. “I ain’t ever doin’ that again though!”
“And I wouldn’t ask you to,” Rayfa whispered quietly as she made herself comfortable, slumping back against the warm/squishy walls. “I kinda missed my favorite troublemaker.”
“You mean that?” Mammon sat up sharply, sending her sliding. His voice was dashed with pleasant surprise.
“Of course I do,” Rayfa avered fondly.
“But-” Mammon hesitated. “Everybody else was sayin’ they liked me better all good an’ behaved…”
“It was pretty entertaining—watching you try to be responsible for once,” Rayfa admitted good-humoredly. “But acting like that, you weren’t Mammon anymore.”
“Sh-Shaddup! I was still me!”
He really didn’t know how to take a compliment, huh?
“Maybe so,” Rayfa acquiesced, “but I like this side of you better.”
“...My, uh, insides?” Mammon played dumb.
“You know that’s not what I meant!”
But Mammon just kept talking like she hadn’t objected. “What a coincidence! I like ya better on this side’a me, too.”
Rayfa groaned. He was so fucking lame.
“Ah. Speakin’ of which…” Mammon yawned. “How long can I keep ya?”
“One hour,” Rayfa stated her terms.
“Two,” Mammon bartered.
Rayfa crossed her arms. “That feels a little long.”
“Compared to one-hundred-and-sixty-eight hours?” Mammon countered without missing a beat.
Because of course he could calculate how many hours made up a week right off the top of his head.
“Fine. Two hours,” Rayfa conceded, purely out of respect for his mental math. “But not a second more! You hear me?”
“Yeah, yeah. I hear ya,” Mammon waved her away, fingers drumming absentmindedly on top of his stomach. “Enjoy your stay, Ray-Ray.”
“As if I could…” Rayfa muttered.
She could, actually, but admitting to that was an entirely different matter.
“Well then,” Mammon hummed with amusement, and Rayfa got the feeling that somehow the bastard already knew. “Guess I’ll just hafta enjoy things enough for the botha us.” ❤️