Archive of Our Own ^beta

If there was anyone you could count on, it was Mammon.

Mammon, who was your first man.

Mammon, who was your partner in crime.

Mammon, who was practically crawling up the wall with need to be with you right now.

He pressed a pillow over his face and groaned into it. This was stupid. He felt stupid. You made him feel stupid. This morning, chaos swept through their home as soon as you rounded the corner. At first, you hadn’t noticed heads snapping one-by-one in your direction as you made your way to your usual spot at the table, serving yourself coffee whilst a dawning realization crept in amongst himself and his brothers.

When the atmosphere felt sufficiently suffocating, you looked up to find seven pairs of eyes boring holes into your skull. Mammon had wanted to scoop you up then and there, to hide you away in the safety of his room where you both could be alone he alone could protect you. 

He shook his head in an attempt to clear his mind. His knuckles ached from the hole he had punched through the dining room wall in the ensuing scuffle. He didn't want to think about it. Lucifer had already let everyone off easy, seemingly too concerned with how to tactfully explain your absence to Lord Diavolo to string anyone up for fighting. Besides, it's not like Mammon was actually angry with anyone. Things just got out of hand.

He just didn't like how they were looking at you. That's all. 

Only he was allowed to look at you like that. 

Mammon chucked his pillow at the floor, but it didn't satisfy the irritation welling up in his gut. Every nerve in his body felt like it was screaming to be closer to you. He wondered if you could feel it, too. Surely, your bond with The Great Mammon was strong enough that you could sense his distress, right? You wanted him too, right? That's why you let this happen? 

It's not like there'd be any harm in checking on you. You were his responsibility, after all. You were his human! He'd be quick about it, he reasoned. One quick trip to make sure no one was bothering you and he'd be back before Lucifer even noticed he was missing. 

By the time he finished that thought, Mammon was already half way down the hall. 

___

You jumped when you heard rapping at your door. It wasn't like anyone in this house to knock. 

"Human, it's me," Mammon hissed. 

You cracked your bedroom door, poking your head out to briefly scan the hallway for interlopers. 

"Mamms, what are you doing here?" You asked in a harsh whisper and yanked him by the hand into your room, "Hurry before someone sees you!" 

Mammon stumbled. Normally, he might have snapped at you for acting like you could push him around, but it was difficult to form words when he felt like he had been plunged headfirst into a pool of your scent. He had secretly always liked your smell, soft and sweet and indescribably you. It had taken on a headier shade, one that sank into his brain like an incense. There was something else, too. His stomach churned- Lucifer had been here, recently. 

Of course he had. So, why did that piss him off? 

"Mammon, you alright?" You called to him, louder this time. You looked so fragile, he thought, arms wrapped around yourself protectively. Surrounded by demons itching to take you apart piece by piece, right down to your pretty little soul, and you were asking if he was okay?

No, he wasn't okay. He waved you off dismissively, anyway. Mammon stalked off over to your bed to create some distance. He took a seat at the edge and began to pick at a loose thread on your comforter. 

"I should be asking you that," He mumbled, face heating up. You began to close the gap between you two, arms still folded over your chest. The closer you stood, the quicker his resolve for an altruistic alibi crumbled, until you were right in front of him, cupping his face in your hands in that way that shot electric currents down his spine and out through his toes. The same way you did back when you kissed him for the first time, setting him on this confusing track in the first place. 

"It's just me, Mamms," You soothed, brushing your thumb over his cheek. He wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face in the swell of your stomach. The second-born grumbled something unintelligible and hoped you understood anyway.

A part of him foolishly hoped that visiting you would be enough to quell the terrible magnetic pull you had on him. Now, face pressed into the warm softness of your body, Mammon could admit he'd maybe let his greed lead him astray, again. 

His head felt cloudy. He nuzzled into your belly, nose pushing up the bottom of your shirt, and stared up at you with honey-blue eyes. You were so pretty, he thought, his pretty little human who waited so patiently for her man to come find her in her time of need. 

He wasn't thinking straight, letting his hands drift up and down your sides. It felt natural to hold you like this, to leave trails of goosebumps along your skin. A sensitive spot under your ribs drew a small whine from your throat and Mammon exhaled sharply. Don’t you know what noises like that do to him?

He tugged and you fell into his lap with a yelp. He was on you in an instant, nipping along your neck, hands up your shirt, nails scratching lightly down your back. Mammon rocked his hips against you, wanting you to feel just how hard you made him.

You sighed his name at the friction. The Avatar of Greed deigned not to answer, choosing to recline back against the headboard with you on top of him. 

“I don’t know if this is a good idea-” You weren’t given a chance to finish your concern.

He pulled at your shirt roughly, taking your bra off with it. He hooked his fingers into the elastic waistband of your sleep shorts and pulled them halfway down your thighs, pausing briefly to admire the wet patch spreading on your panties. Were you already so worked up for him? 

Mammon grabbed your hand, guiding it to the erection tenting in his pants. He moaned sweetly for you when your fingers grazed him. Please don’t stop now. You mercifully did not stop, instead deftly working to undo his fly and maneuver his bottoms off his hips. His heavy cock fell against his stomach, twitching and aching for attention. 

"C'mere, c'mere," He ushered you forward, gently guiding you, adjusting until you hovered over his face. He felt like he was losing his mind having you so close and couldn't resist placing a kiss on your pussy over your panties, groaning into the damp fabric.

You gasped, reaching for the headboard to steady yourself. Mammon crooked a finger into your underwear, pulling them to the side for better access. When you felt his hot breath ghost over your skin, you were already dripping. When he brought his lips to yours, you could have cried. He eased your weight onto him, drunk on your taste. 

"F-fuck, Mammon," You mewled. The hold he had on you rendered you powerless to do much more than roll your hips against his mouth. Each pass of his tongue through your folds teased something animalistic in him that at the best of times he'd be hopeless to describe. But he knew he needed you, and even this was beginning to not feel like enough. Determined to send you over the edge, the demon sucked on your clit and savored how you cried for him. 

That animalistic something in Mammon snapped like a rubberband. He couldn't wait anymore. Your body was begging to be bred and he was going to be the one to take care of you. You were putty in his hands when he moved to lay your back flat against the mattress. Wanting nothing between you, he quickly shrugged off his shirt, then fell forward to meet you in a needy kiss. 

A brief moment of lucidity flickered behind Mammon's eyes when you parted. Fuck, he loved you. He couldn't always say it, but he wanted everyone to know it. 

So, what could be more undeniable, he wondered, rubbing his cock against you, gathering the slick of your cunt, than making you swell with his child? A low growl rumbled in his chest when he pushed into you. You clung to him and he felt his heart burst. 

" 'll fuck you as many times as it takes," He slurred in your ear, "Fill you up again and again until…" Each word of his muddled thoughts was emphasized by a sharp snap of his hips against yours. He didn't understand why you had opted to choose him as your mate now, like this, but he was deliriously happy to give you what you wanted. As long as you kept looking at him like this, holding him like this, loving him like this, he'd give you anything. 

You writhed beneath him, one hand buried in his snowy hair, the other stroking his back, toying with his wings that fluttered with a mind of their own. This was the first time you had gone this far with him, but you could tell by how he pulsed and throbbed inside of you that he wasn't going to last.

"So good for me, treasure, you feel so good," Once he started babbling, Mammon found that he couldn't stop. His voice was low and intense in your ear, "Gonna' cum- feel so fucking good. Fuck, baby, please, I'm gonna cum, please, please-" 

Your velvety walls fluttered around him, causing his breath to hitch. He kissed you again urgently, tongue sliding against yours as he painted your insides white. He ground his hips against you, pushing his seed in deeper in the hopes it would stick. Mammon slowed, then parted from your kiss, a lewd string of saliva connecting you.

The door clicked open. 

___

"Your shibari needs work."

Lucifer refused to look at you, tying off the ropes binding Mammon to the ceiling. 

"If you touch these ropes, you'll be who I practice on next," The first-born seethed. 

"Look on the bright side," You shrugged, "Only 5 more days to go."

"LEAVE."

Well, what a fun surprise this week turned out to be. 

Despite his namesake as the Avatar of Lust, Asmo was not nearly as impulsive as some of his brothers. There was an art to building anticipation that some people simply did not appreciate. 

He was actually the first to know, you know? He’s kind of fine-tuned for that sort of thing. You were absolutely divine, that morning- a regular ingenue. All bleary-eyed, hair still adorably rumpled from sleep, mumbling your good mornings as if you weren’t a vector of chaos about to unfold. When you passed him, his nose tickled at the sweet fertility dripping off you.

A wicked grin spread across his face in that moment. He liked to think of his reaction as something akin to nervous laughter, but truly he did find it funny to watch his brothers’ gears turn. Plus, he had gotten the chance to play the gallant prince, pulling you out of harm’s way when the situation turned violent. Surely, that would stick with you.

Asmo dipped low into his bath until only his eyes remained above its placid surface. His body thrummed with the lustful energy surging throughout the House of Lamentation. Mammon had already tried to stake his claim in you and had been subsequently punished for it. While the fifth-born could admire his brother’s forwardness, he himself was in no such rush. No, he was content to wait until the moment was right. 

It’s not like you’d be going anywhere.

“Welcome home, Master~!”

Your saccharine taunt was a bucket of ice water dumped over Levi’s head. He shrieked, clamping a hand down over his mouth about half a beat too late. 

“W-what are you doing!?” The demon spluttered. He had been gone for less than fifteen minutes and returned to find you draped comfortably over his gaming chair, tapping away at your DDD as if you hadn't just caused him to jump out of his skin. 

"Terror World update. Needed to use your computer to check it out. I let myself in," Your response was matter-of-fact. 

"No!" Levi yelped, slamming the door behind him, "What are you doing here right now!?" 

You don't even look up when you point lazily at the glowing monitor, "I just told you. Terror World. You have the only gaming PC. You left your door open."

Levi's heart hammered in his chest. This was bad. It was bad enough you had successfully launched a sneak attack and captured his base's flag, but you weren't even taking it seriously. A cold sweat coated his palms. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, frozen to the spot. 

"Relax, Levi," You sighed, flashing him a sympathetic smile, "I’m on house arrest, not quarantine. One round, maybe two, to see the new content and I'm gone, I promise!" 

Levi covered his face and groaned dramatically. You were so cute when you were excited about games, he couldn't take it. 

"Fine! Fine!" He conceded, throwing his hands up. He fell into the bean bag chair on the floor next to you, folding in on himself instinctively.

“Besides," You said, leaning over to check the game's progress, "I'm not worried about being around you. You're different from your brothers."

Levi glanced up at you, then away, a deep blush spreading across his cheeks. He opened his mouth to speak, but you were faster. 

"Some of them can be such perverts."

A trap sprang shut. 

Oh. So that's how it was. He was going to die here.

It was clear (to all except maybe Levi himself) that you had a soft spot for Leviathan. You bantered easily back and forth, knowing exactly what buttons to press to fluster him, how far to push your teasing before pulling back and fluffing up his ego. It was intoxicating, if he was honest. Sometimes he wondered if you knew how many nights he’d spent laying in his tub, staring into space, rolling those moments over in his mind.

By now, you had pivoted subjects, but sounded too far away for him to follow. Bitter envy built up like bile in his throat. Mammon's near-instantaneous caving to his baser instincts had rewarded him in spades, as far as Levi was concerned. You had given yourself over to him freely, though the third-born doubted you would have made the same choice if he were the first to visit you. Scummy as Mammon was, you two shared a special bond.

So, why were you here?

You were resting your forehead on your folded hands, looking at him out of the corner of your eye, smiling fondly. The eye contact made him jump.

“What’s it like?” You asked, pinning him with your gaze. He averted his eyes to a distant corner.

“I don’t know what you mean,” He said airily. 

"Like, what's so different about me? Lucifer explained a little, but nothing specific," You turned to face him so there was no escape, "So, what's it like?" 

Levi felt like his head was going to explode, "You can't just ask me stuff like that!" 

"Why not?" Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, "I thought we were friends."

"We are friends! It's just-" It was just that every single second you lingered, your presence became more and more overwhelming. That by the teasing lilt to your voice, you had immediately plucked his poorly-hidden excitement out of the air and were now holding him under a microscope.

You rose, then crouched in front of him, skirt creeping up your thighs, and took one of his trembling hands in yours. He hoped against hope it wasn't as clammy as he feared. 

"It's embarrassing for me, too," You admitted, gently uncurling his fist. You slid your palm against his, taking a moment to appreciate their size difference. 

You threaded your fingers together, "It's kind of scary when everyone knows something you don't."

It was a critical hit. Levi swallowed heavily. His head was swimming. 

"You, ah, you smell different. Not bad! Good, actually– s-sorry that's weird. Ugh, it's hard to explain!" He stammered, mouth dry, face on fire. His eyes shot from your joined hands, to you, then back, "... I-it's like you're calling me. I don't know if it's like that for everyone."

You were so close. This was too much. Levi needed to create some distance, get some fresh air, take a cold shower, anything before he said something he'd really regret. 

"Thank you for being honest with me," You said, giving his hand a quick squeeze. The computer pinged. 

"Ah! It's done!" You cheered. You sprung to your feet and stumbled forward. Levi had not released the grip tethering you together. 

He knew he should. 

"I was just thinking…" The words seemed to rattle out on their own. 

You looked pretty in the blue light. 

"You could give me a reward, you know, for my hard work…" By the end of the sentence, he was so quiet you almost didn't hear him. 

You sank to your knees with an expression that made him feel like a prey animal. 

"Of course," You cooed, taken in by his vulnerability, "What would you like?" 

Horrified by his own boldness but enthralled by your reaction to it, Levi felt the spreading heat in his body building to untenable levels. He couldn't look at you, he was going to overflow. 

"Um, well, ah-" He squeaked when you rested your hands on his thighs to still his nervous leg-bouncing. 

"Should I choose for you?" You offered. He nodded. 

You crawled into the demon's lap and hummed thoughtfully, ignoring his clear internal panic. Levi lolled his head back to stare up at the ceiling. He hovered his hands off your body, just over your waist, afraid that one wrong move would send you running.

But you persisted. You poked and prodded at him like a delicate specimen, humming again in thought. You were overwhelming his senses, seeping into him like a drug. Were you doing this on purpose? You had told him before that he was fun to pick on, but this… 

"What if," You said, tilting his head towards his left shoulder, "I kissed you here?" You lightly rapped your index finger against his jugular, as if prepping the vein. Moments away from hyperventilating, Levi grunted in affirmation. 

"Okay, okay," You laughed, leaning into his chest. The way your body molded so easily against his wasn't fair. You hid your face in the crook of his neck and, for a moment, did nothing but let him squirm under your breath. 

"Otsukaresama deshita," You cheekily thanked him for his hard work before placing a few open-mouthed kisses onto his exposed skin. 

"Nn-!" His body jerked reflexively. You squeezed your thighs around his to encourage him to stay still, even though you knew it was a losing battle. He craned his neck to give you better access that you rewarded with a light graze of your teeth. Levi whimpered and you paused. 

No no no- why were you stopping? Was it because he grabbed you? Was it the noise? Did you feel it? You must have. He waited for your rejection with baited breath.. 

You gave an experimental roll of your hips that sent him reeling. He could feel you grinning against his neck, dragging your lips slowly up to his ear. 

"Pervert."

The word cut through him, but the way you nipped at his earlobe made him dizzy. You kept rocking your hips, rubbing against his clothed cock, slow torture. 

"When you found out about Mammon, I could feel it in our pact," You tangled a hand in his hair and gave it a small tug, "You were jealous."

"No," It was humiliating how much his denial came out sounding like a moan. Your movements were relentless, pulling adorable noise after noise out of the powerful demon beneath you.

"Liar. Do you know what I think?" You asked, kissing along his jawline, "I think you left your door open on purpose."

Was he really that obvious? 

Precum was beginning to soak through his underwear, warm and sticky. Of course he had been just as affected as any of them. As much as it pained him to admit, he had been a part of the scuffle for your attention. While Asmo had gotten to pull you from the fray and Mammon had tried to take you for himself, Levi was left to lick his wounds alone. Left to his own devices, still feeling your pull, he thought of the red string of fate and whether there may be one connecting the two of you. 

It led to you being here, didn't it? Sitting pretty in his lap, pretense fading behind glassy eyes as you got lost in sensation. Your teasing turned into cute, needy whines that made him throb. You needed him. So, it would be okay if he took things further, right?

Levi kissed you gingerly, still unsure of himself despite everything, heart racing. You melted against him, eager to accept any affection he would give you. He moaned into your mouth when you palmed him through his sweatpants. He was so hard it was bordering on painful. 

You slipped a finger under his waistband and peered up at him through heavy lashes, suddenly a little sheepish, "Is this okay?" 

Why were you so fucking cute? He wiggled his hips to help you free him from the damp fabric of his sweats. Only a thin strip of cloth remained between the two of you under your skirt. It was kind of dirty, he thought, knowing he was smearing pre all over your inner thighs but not being able to see it.

Resting his hands on your hips, Levi arched against you, wanting to hear you cry for him again. You bit your lip and moved with him, pushing against his chest for leverage, using his body to chase your own high as the coil in your core wound tighter. There was a part of him that wanted you to keep him like this– a well-loved toy to be played with at your leisure. 

When the coil snapped, you snatched him up by the shirt collar and pulled him into a messy kiss, pleasurable spasms ripping through your body. You whimpered his name against his lips and it was all he could do to not combust. He needed to hear you say it again. You grinded against him until you were spent, then collapsed against his chest, feeling boneless.

Just as suddenly as things had started, they stopped. You disentangled your limbs and stood. Levi reached for you, dumbfounded, grasping at air.

"Here," You reached under your skirt, pulling your soaked panties around your ankles before balling them up and tossing them at him, "Your reward."

He fumbled to catch them, "What are you-?" 

"We're even now," You waved, heading towards the door.

"W-wait where-" 

"Come find me when you're ready to be serious," You taunted him. You couldn't look back, knowing his wet orange eyes and confused, reddened face would crumble your resolve.

You slipped through the door and were gone. Levi sank back into the bean bag, now left with only the aquarium's hum and computer fans buzzing for company, Terror World long since forgotten. What were you playing at? He wondered, unfolding his satin-y prize. This felt like psychological warfare. 

He lifted the garment to his nose and inhaled deeply, soothing his aching cock with a few slow pumps. Knowing he'd be fucking his fist tonight instead of you was infuriating, especially with a gifted reminder of your body in heat. 

He wouldn't let you win so easily next time. 

Satan: I left the notes outside your door. Everything should be in order and color coded by subject. 

'Hope you feel better, soon.' He typed and deleted thrice. Is that something you say to a human in this situation? After some thought, he opted to leave that part out of the text.

Same as when faced with any unfamiliar situation, Satan turned to research. He had taken to skulking about the house at odd hours, times he was certain Beel on a midnight snack run would be the only possible interloper. He had long since memorized Lucifer's nightly patrol patterns, knowing when and where he could slip away unnoticed. 

So far, his trips to the library had been mostly fruitless. As impressively large and varied as the house's collection of books was, they owned precious little referencing human biology outside of a few works relating to spell-work, sacrifice, and torture. A battered old tome on the subject of witchcraft mentioned a connection between fertility and cycles of the moon, but with nothing to cross-reference, there was no verifying the claim's accuracy. 

Mammon seemed to think that humans operated like birds, selectively allowing reproduction only when safe and ready. Satan let out a small chuckle and shook his head before cracking open his newly obtained veterinary reference manual for Devildom creatures (and Beyond! Or so it said). 

At least cats were mammals. 

For the past few days, Beezlebub had been eating his feelings. 

He was a menace in the kitchen, he could admit it. Since breakfast three days ago, no meals were able to be prepared to completion without interference from the sixth-born. Occasionally, one of his brothers would try to separate him from the fridge where he had set up camp, but each attempt only served to make him more irritable and territorial, less like himself. It soon became clear that their efforts were not worth the struggle and creative measures were implemented to allow for some form of cookery. 

Belphagor hovered as much as his fatigue would permit, worried for his twin. Left unspoken for the sake of Beel's dignity, Belphie understood intrinsically the depth of the hunger you had unlocked in his brother. It was a terrifying force to be reckoned with, one that could very easily boil over into something disastrous. 

At this late hour, Beel was alone, Belphie having retreated to the attic for yet another nap. Four puddings pushed down the memory of your scent for the nth time. Twelve poisoned apples for how his hands dwarfed your tiny shoulders. A couple boxes of leftover takeout to smother your big doe eyes looking up at him before the first shove kicked off a regretful fight between his brothers. 

Guilt weighed like an albatross around Beel's neck. He loved his family- you were included in that. You rounded out their group in a way that felt complete. Beel wasn't always the most articulate demon, but his feelings were genuine and acute; sometimes overwhelmingly so. 

"Oh, hey."

He felt sick. 

Beel twisted to see you over his shoulder, refrigerator door still halfway open. You were standing in the kitchen doorway, looking unsure, picking your fingernails. You looked so small. 

"I was going to get something to drink," You said, as if you needed an excuse to be there. 

He smiled at you and hoped it was reassuring, "I think there's some juice left."

"Thanks, that'll work," You returned the grin, relieved he broke the tension first. He sat the carton on the counter and stepped aside.

See? You could both be normal about this.

“I feel like it’s been forever since I’ve seen you,” You mused, getting yourself a glass from the cupboard, “I’m going stir-crazy in there.”

Beel leaned against an opposite counter, “How much longer are you locked down for?”

“Ugh, I don’t know, two or three more days, maybe?” You mirrored him from across the room, “I hope Lucifer doesn’t think I’m doing this every month. Absolutely not.”

Every month.

This was going to happen every month? Indefinitely? He felt light-headed. How was he supposed to contend with this on a regular basis? A month was nothing. 

“You okay?” You asked, shaking Beel from his thoughts. 

“Yeah,” He replied, “Are you at least eating enough?”

“No complaints there,” You shrugged, sipping your drink, “Anyway, I should head back.”

The words came out reflexively the moment your back was turned: “I missed you.” 

“I missed you, too,” You beamed back at him, stopping in your tracks. You were so pretty when you smiled. He felt his heart speed up.

“Can I walk you back?” He asked, knowing very well he shouldn't, but not ready to say goodbye just yet. 

You hesitated for only a moment, "Yeah, I'd like that."

___

Trying to keep pace with you was always a little awkward, given your much shorter stride. Beel was used to waiting up for others after a few millennia of adapting to Belphie's slothful movements. Still, the urge to scoop you up and carry you with him tugged at his fraying nerves. Would you mind? You'd let him do it before…

Even if you did mind, it'd be easy, he thought, to simply hook an arm around your waist and lift you like a fangol ball. You could wiggle and fight as much as you wanted, but realistically, you were physically no match for the most average of demons, let alone one such as himself. Especially if caught by surprise, with no time for magic (or pact orders) to level the playing field. Despite all of your time spent in the Devildom, your trusting nature left you wide open to any number of those with ill intent. It was like you refused to understand that humans were prey. 

Which is why you needed to be here, with him them, Beel reminded himself. To keep you safe. Because, right now, you were all but screaming to be devoured. 

Sweat dotted his brow. Maybe going with you was a mistake. Without a constant stream of food to distract himself, his thoughts were drifting to dark and unfamiliar territory. Even tucked under his arm, were you really safe? He swallowed the rapidly pooling spit in his mouth, chewing on the discomforting idea. 

"Well, this is my stop," You said, breaking the uneasy silence that had formed between you. Your hand hovered on the doorknob, but neither of you moved. He was certain you could read the distress all over his face. You were good at that sort of thing. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" You asked gently, twisting the handle.

"I don't know," He replied, honest as ever, "I want to spend more time with you, but I'm worried."

"That you'll hurt me?"

He nodded, "Or worse."

You seemed to consider his words carefully. You studied his expression, though what you were searching for was unclear. Finally, you shrugged as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. 

"I'm not worried," You said, pushing open your bedroom door, "I trust you."

___

Beel loved his family. He loved you. 

But he could stand for there to be more of you. 

It was his single-minded focus, and had been since… since however long it had been that you'd allowed him into your room, he supposed. 

You entered first. You showed your back to him and he went after you, blinded by instinct. Time was fuzzy after that. Later, Beel would go through and make sense of things. Right now, with your cunt squeezing him so deliciously, the only semi-coherent thought in his head was breeding you over and over and over again. 

"More, one more," He slurred almost apologetically. If he could feel the satisfaction of cumming deep inside your tight little body just one more time, then he would be sated. Maybe. Probably. 

You were like jelly, eyes rolled back, reduced to wordless noises while he bounced you on his cock. Your arms hung loose around his neck, legs locked around his waist. Dark marks bloomed across your skin, purple bruises in the shape of hands and teeth despite his best efforts to keep your trust. It took everything he had not to break your soft, salty skin when he tasted you. He mouthed at whatever exposed flesh he could reach, desires and intentions blurring hopelessly together into a confusing mess. 

You fell against him with a pathetic cry as another orgasm was pulled from your poor, overstimulated body. You were trembling uncontrollably. He curled protectively around you, kissing your sweat-slicked temple and murmuring sweet praise that bubbled up through his mental haze. You were taking him so well, please, just one more for him, please, one more so he could make absolutely sure you wound up carrying his babies- and why stop at one? You were going to be gorgeous pregnant, working so hard to make their family even bigger, giving him even more people to love. Fuck– he couldn't get enough of you. 

He felt a tightening in his core that signaled he was close. He held you in place, bottoming out when he bucked up into you. Stretched obscenely full, your walls pulsed around him, milking his cock for all he could give. You groaned something that sounded like his name muffled into his chest, your desperate keening triggering his own release. His previously rhythmic grunting built into a low growl as he pumped thick ropes of cum deep into your already stuffed cunt. Beel let out a small whine feeling some of his seed dripping out around him. It wasn't fair. It all belonged to you. 

A brief moment of clarity washed over him in the wake. He knew you were tired- exhausted, actually, judging by your adorable fucked-out expression. That was okay, he could help. He'd get you cleaned up and into fresh pajamas before taking you upstairs to rest together in his bed. 

Consequences be damned, he was going to keep you close. He knew Belphie wouldn't mind. Besides, what if he needed more later? 

House divided as it was, negotiations for your return went about as well as they possibly could. 

On one side, there was Beel, hoarding you in his room, stubbornly refusing any direct attempts at communication. All contact was thereby forced to go through Belphie (also barricaded inside), who found the whole situation hilarious. 

Neutral (i.e., useless) parties included: Levi, shut down and unreachable for the past two days, and Asmo, available only for emotional support. 

That left Lucifer, Mammon, and Satan to forge an uneasy alliance. Finally, a deal was struck. You were shuffled through the door in exchange for Lucifer's credit card and express permission to order as much takeout as necessary to get Beel through the rest of this cursed fiasco. In the meanwhile, Lucifer would use Goldie to cover the house's expenses, much to Mammon's chagrin. 

The firstborn glowered at you from across his study. You were sitting on the sofa, staring into your lap and poking one of the obscene bruises that littered your thighs. You pressed your fingertip into the purple mark, winced when it turned yellow, then repeated the motion again. And again. 

Silence in the air hung thick and heavy. Your stubbornness could rival his own, at times, and you seemed determined not to speak first. 

"I trust you are satisfied after that bout of utter shamelessness?" Lucifer asked, voice level and unwavering. 

The corners of your lips twitched up into an irritating little smirk. Your finger hovered over the bruise as you looked up to meet his burning gaze. 

"I've been trying to figure something out," You parried his jab, "When all of this started, why didn't you send me to stay at Cocytus Hall?" 

Lucifer sighed, beleaguered by your ignorance. He stood and made his way over to the bar cart. 

"I mean, it makes sense, right? Humans aren't able to sense hormonal changes in other humans. Angels are even further removed. So why stay here?" 

"Changing locations would be an unnecessary risk," He responded flatly. He fixed himself a drink, pointedly not offering you anything. 

"Next time we'll be more prepared, then," You hummed, unconvinced. 

Lucifer kept his distance. He didn't like how comfortable you were acting in this situation. It set his teeth on edge. 

"Say, I've been thinking-" 

"Don't strain yourself," He shot back. 

Your smirk grew into an infuriating grin, "Do you think that something is defined by its antithesis?" 

What kind of question was that? 

It was your turn to stand, stretching your arms up overhead. Your shirt crept up, revealing more unsightly marks. You reeked of his brother and he hated it. 

"Like with Beel," You explained, idly fiddling with a knick-knack on a nearby shelf, "He's the Avatar of Gluttony. He's known for his consumption, but he's motivated by starvation. How could you understand one without the other? Am I making sense?" 

"No, and I fail to see your point," Lucifer replied, "Put that thing down, you'll break it."

You complied, setting the object back where you found it.

"Well, I've been wondering," You continued, undeterred, "What the opposite of pride would be?" 

Lucifer took a drink. His ears were burning but he refused to be the first to back down and look away. 

"This is the last time this happens, do you understand me?" He asked, gesturing at you with the hand holding his glass. You would not see what you did to him, damn it, "No more wandering around. Anything you need, you are to message me and I will ensure it's left outside your door. Unless you'd prefer an actual prison cell?" 

"It's been a while since you've been so harsh with me," You said with a hint of humor, expression softening, "I'm sorry, Lucifer. It won't happen again."

You left soon after, promising to abide by his conditions if only for his peace of mind. He relieved himself while thinking of you in the shower that night, cursing your name the entire time. 

He ached. Why weren't you coming to him? He was right there.

You puffed a little laugh watching the messages roll in. Leave it to Asmo to be so sweet under such ridiculous circumstances. 

Turning your phone face down on the pillow beside you, you folded your hands over your chest, staring up at the ceiling and taking inventory of the situation at hand. In the motion, your hands briefly brushed against a stray bite mark, sending a jolt of pleasure-pain throughout your body.

You had, by your estimation, about three more days under the microscope. The halfway point had snuck up on you amidst a flurry of seemingly nonstop activity. Until now, you hadn't had a chance to breathe, let alone strategize. 

Responding to those messages meant walking straight into a trap, of that much you could be certain. Truthfully, his distance thus far had surprised you. Asmo was something of a dark horse; an unpredictability bubbled just under his surface. Surrounded by his sin, comfortable and in his element, there was no way of knowing how his behavior would manifest. 

Well, there was one way. 

___

“Aww, muffin! You came!” Asmo cheered, swinging the door open before you could even knock. He flung his arms around your neck and pulled you into a tight hug. 

He paused to take a good look at you, lightly chiding: “You're a mess, you poor thing! Come on, let's get you fixed up.”

Linking his arm in yours, Asmo led you inside where he left you waiting at the edge of his bed while he broke away to dig through a readily prepared stash of bottles and assorted sundries.

“Brutes, all of them,” He clucked his tongue, “You’ll have to tell me all about it, obviously.”

You laughed, settling back amongst the pillows, “They’re not so bad. They’re trying.”

“Please. You coddle them,” The demon teased, rolling his eyes at you, “Meanwhile, you look like a chew toy.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“No need to worry, Asmo-chan is here!” He sing-songed, joining you on the bed with an armful of products, “And I’ve got just the thing- I brought my most powerful arsenal.”

This seemed… normal? Too normal, you thought. Asmo chattered on happily, laying out his choices one-by-one and explaining the benefits of each. All else aside, it felt like any other spa day. Perhaps you shouldn’t have been surprised that The Avatar of Lust remained unfazed in the face of something that may very well be considered a mundane part of his domain. After all, Asmo had been the one to keep a cool head back when…

“Sounds good?” He chirped, holding up a jar in the shape of a deep purple crystal, eyes glittering with excitement.

“S-sure!” You nodded, hoping your eagerness covered up the fact you had entirely zoned out during his presentation.

“Yay~” He unscrewed the lid, “Then we can start with ones on your neck.”

You tried to relax, craning your head to one side. Asmo gathered some of the lightly-scented balm between his fingers and you sighed when he softly traced the sensitive marks.

“This stuff works quickly,” He assured you, extending the motion down to your collarbone, “I didn’t think Beel would be so bitey. On second thought, I guess it does make sense…”

With a practiced familiarity, you reached to pull your shirt overhead, “I think he got me on my back, too.”

“Ooh, lemme see!”

You rolled onto your stomach and buried your face into one of about a thousand silk pillows. Asmo gasped. Chuckling to himself, he wasted no time getting to work on your shoulders, and although you jumped at his touch at first, you soon found yourself sinking into its warmth.

You were feeling pretty warm. 

“They're fading already,” Asmo said, sounding impressed with himself. He positioned himself over you, straddling your hips for purchase, ministrations straying closer to a massage than a cosmetic treatment. 

“Is that why I'm so warm?” You asked, groaning in appreciation as he helpfully teased out a knot between your shoulder blades. 

“That's probably the magdalena extract,” He giggled, breath tickling  the shell of your ear, “Like I said, this stuff works fast.”

You rolled the name over in your mind, trying to remember where you had heard it before. A fog was encroaching on your thoughts, swaddling your head in a thick haze reminiscent of being wine-drunk. 

“Do you like it?” The fifth-born's voice stayed soft and playful as his hands glided down the small of your back. You set your remaining thoughts aside and sighed again, feeling yourself become putty in his hands. 

“Good,” He cooed, nuzzling your neck and nipping gently at your ear, “Then, do you want to turn over so I can get the rest of you?”

You hummed in agreement, turning underneath him when he rose up on his knees enough for you to move. Once situated on your back, Asmo lowered down to sit on you, again; his lithe frame light enough to not cause any discomfort, but heavy enough to keep you in place. You studied him through lowered lashes– he truly was beautiful.

“Ah, there you are,” He said as if seeing you for the first time. He tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, tangerine gaze raking over your flushed body.

Magdalena extract. 

The name continued to echo somewhere in the back of your mind. 

Asmo collected a generous amount of the salve, warming it between his hands before tenderly cupping your abused chest. His tongue poked out cutely between his lips in concentration, perfectly manicured fingers trailing feather-light over fading teeth imprints and rapidly stiffening nipple peaks. 

It's an aphrodisiac. An alarm bell sounded somewhere in the distance. You were too far away to pay it any attention. 

“I swear, these boys have no idea how it's done,” He murmured, more to himself than to you, and leaned in to take one of your nipples into his mouth. He lapped around the sensitive bud, sending you reeling. Your eyes rolled back as your body exploded in sensation, arching off the mattress. 

What the fuck was that? You wouldn't have time to think too hard about it. 

“Shh,” He lovingly shushed you, stuffing two fingers in your mouth, “You don't want to get us caught, do you~?”

You whimpered around the digits’ probing–  even their intrusion was starting to feel good. Asmo turned his attention back to your body. He trailed his free hand down your side, tracing the hem of your waistband. 

“Can I?” He looked up at you with a hopeful smile. You nodded, eager to shed the remaining clothes covering your feverish skin. Asmo removed his fingers from your mouth to help shimmy you out of your bottoms. 

“You know,” The demon said, parting your legs to sit between them, “Your scent has been driving me crazy for almost a week now.” He pouted, “It's pretty rude.”

Goosebumps cropped up along your thighs, following the path of his hands applying more healing balm. You lifted your hips for him, allowing space for him to slip his hands under your ass.

“Besides, everyone's been paying attention to you,” Asmo huffed, kissing each of your hip bones. Your eyes watered. “That doesn't seem fair.”

“ -‘m sorry,” You managed to whine, rolling your hips against your will. You ached for more. 

He giggled again, placing a few more kisses along your stomach, “Aww, that's okay. We'll have plenty of time for you to give me attention. Lucifer thinks I left the house hours ago.”

The words hardly registered. Asmo offered you two of his fingers again, which you readily accepted into your mouth. You twisted your tongue around them and sucked, and he looked at you like you hung the stars. 

He was right. There was plenty of time 

to be spent lavishing one another with affection– and what more perfect place to start, he thought, than playing with your adorable puffy clit until you cried that you loved him. 

You had all night, after all.

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was that you felt amazing.

The second thing you noticed was that you were alone. 

You sat up in bed and scrambled for your phone to check the time. The abundance of bedding that had made for a dreamy love-nest before was proving to be more of a spider's web. Finally, you found your DDD between the sheets– to your dismay, it was morning. 

‘Sorry, darling, beauty takes time.’ You could almost hear Asmo's voice, imagining him excusing himself to slip away in the early hours to tend to his rigorous morning routine before RAD. 

That left you with a problem. By this time, half the house would have already risen for the day, most certainly Lucifer. If he hadn't noticed your betrayal yet, it was only a matter of time. Getting back to your room unseen would require some finessing. Of those willing to help you, you realistically had two options you could call on:

There was Satan, always willing to lend an assist if it meant sticking it to the eldest in some way. But given his diligent, studious nature, he may have already departed for school. 

That left… 

Belphie: Okay, I'll help. 

Belphie: But I expect a reward. 

What you needed was a distraction.

Belphie figured he could make that happen. He shot off a quick text letting you know to count to five, then book it. At the top of the stairs, he swooned.

It wasn't so bad. Half-consciousness allowed his body to fall limp enough to absorb the blows without taking too much damage. The scene proved dramatic, having the others at his side within moments.

He couldn't possibly go to RAD in this state. Please, Lucifer, have mercy? Let him stay home just this once to recuperate?

Despite leery side-eyes and a few biting comments mumbled under-breath, the baby of the family got his way. No funny business, he promised. He needed to rest.

He promised.

Lucifer stalked off, sure to chew a hole through the inside of his cheek all the way to school.

Puffed up on his victory, Belphegor practically skipped his way to your room.

___

“Ah, Belphie!” You greeted the seventh-born, “Thank you for covering for me.”

He closed the door behind him, “It wasn't easy. It hurt, actually. And you owe me.”

“I do,” You soothed, meeting him across the room. You gingerly cupped his face in your hands, “Don't think I forgot.”

He leaned into your touch and sighed, smiling dreamily up at you.

“Anything you want,” You breathed, taken in by dark doe eyes rimmed with deep purple.

He reached for your hand, dragging it across his cool flesh, coming to rest at the base of his throat. He cocked his head to the side and hummed, hoping you understood.

With trembling fingers, you slid your hands around to guide him by the neck into a firm kiss. He melted under your touch, allowing himself to be pulled with you; to collapse onto the bed, a heap of tangled limbs.

Belphie sighed your name as you nipped down his neck, featherlight touch drifting to his waist. You ghosted your thumbs over his hip bones, leaving a trail of goosebumps in your wake.

“Oh I adore you,” you murmured against his forehead. You threaded a hand through his hair, gripping firmly at the roots. He whined at the pressure, tilting his head up, giving you access to the column of his throat. You sucked strawberry marks onto his milky skin, earning pretty whimpers to savor later in your memory.

Despite having the strength to snap you like a toothpick, Belphegor was something of a princess. A romantic at heart, he wanted nothing more than for you to choose him, over and over again. He bit his lip to stifle the sweet sounds threatening to spill from between them.

“Please,” He whined, “Stop teasing me.”

You had half a mind to put him in his place for even asking.

“Get your cock out,” You said, voice just breaking a whisper. His pupils dilated, fingers hooking in the waistband of his pants, shimmying the fabric down around his hips. He throbbed against your clothed body, already needy and leaking from his rosy tip.

You gracelessly shoved off your bottoms while he reached for you, desperate to melt together. You were going easy on him and he was losing his patience. Didn't you love him? Didn't you want to make him yours? Instead of voicing those thoughts, he nipped at your wrists, your hands planted on either side of his head.

“Behave,” You ordered, trying to hide your amusement. You never were good at that sort of thing.

You smelled so fucking good. Belphie had been safely sequestered away, content to sleep away this troublesome week. That was, until Beel had burst into their shared room carrying a bundle of your limp form, inoculating him with your heady scent. Ever since, the seventh-born’s dreams had been haunted by thoughts of you, you, and only you. It was humiliating– waking from naps with sticky sheets, a pillow clenched between his legs, his twin shooting him a piteous look that read: ‘I'm sorry. I should have shared.’

It was enough to drive a man mad.

You slipped a hand between your bodies, taking him in your warm grasp. A shiver rolled up his spine when your fingers curled around his length, coaxing a soft groan from the demon. He rocked his hips against you, smearing precum across your stomach in search of friction.

You raised up enough to angle his cock against your sex, slick from his adorable, needy display. You held him there, twitching against your slit, and waited.

“Please.”

There it was.

“Good boy,” Your praise shifted into a moan as you lowered down onto him. The stretch of your velvety walls had his eyes rolling back. Belphie groped at your thighs, your ass, your hips, eventually settling at your waist. Unable to hold himself back anymore, he set in at a feverish pace. He chewed his lip while he fucked you, hissing curses punctuated with high pitched moans.

You were starting to feel, maybe, just a little bit powerful.

You wrapped your hands around his throat and squeezed.

Belphegor thrashed beneath you, eyes wild, and came harder than he ever had in his long, long life.

___

Clutched against a content, sleeping Belphie, you were faced with a new problem.

How were you supposed to get him out?

Before you could figure it out, your bedroom door clicked open.