ᴏʙᴇʏ ᴍᴇ! x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇꜱʜᴏᴛꜱ

ᴛʜɪᴇꜰ

"Touch me...touch me more please. Wontcha?" Mammon whispers hoarsely, bucking his hips up into yours, chasing your touch as you withdraw your hand, having teased him sufficiently. You cross your arms again, pushing up your breasts slightly, which draws the hungry demon's gaze to the hint of cleavage your shirt exposes. This time, it lingers. 

"You know what to do."

Still refusing to admit anything, Mammon stubbornly refuses. "I told ya, I don't —"

Obviously, he hasn't had enough. You reach down again, lying against him as you slip a hand into the waistband of his sweatpants, wrapping your hand around his hard cock. Mammon's whole body tenses, tingling with pleasure at the feel of your cool, small hands on his heated skin. The veins in his arms and neck pulse as he fights to keep himself From picking you up, rolling over and throwing you down on his mattress right then and there. He restrains himself, knowing it won't end well for him. You pump him once, twice, and Mammon arches up slightly, biting back a moan. You watch his skin flush and pupils dilate with desire, enjoying seeing the expressions of pleasure cross his face. "How's that, Mammon?" You purr softly, tracing a salacious path over his firm pecs with your free hand as you continue to stroke him, feeling him become wetter. You can see him beginning to crack. Mammon teases his lip with his teeth, hands balling into fists. "Ngh...haa...hngh!" His eyes flutter shut briefly, vision spinning with pleasure as he opens them again and focuses his gaze on you, looking up at him with your thickly lashed, entrancing (e/c) eyes. Mammon's unable to form words as you purposefully graze a vein with your nail. It's tips him over the edge, eyes rolling back into his head, whole body trembling under your as he shoots his cum all over your belly. The sticky, warm substance coats your hand, soaking into your shirt, his cock pulsing in your grip. 

You glance at his clock from the corner of your eye.

Just in time. You have ten minutes before you have to leave the house.

Mammon completely relaxes beneath you, the loudest, longest exhalation leaving his lips as he trembles slightly, laying in his afterglow. You gently extricate yourself from him, his hooded eyes seeking out yours as you slide off of him, his hand itching to snatch yours and make you stay in bed with him. You grab a spare towel from his dresser and stalk toward his bathroom, flipping your hair over your shoulder as you go.

"I'm going to shower. Bye."

You strip off your soiled clothes and turn on the shower full blast. Mammon probably won't join you in there this morning, and its not like there's time to go any further, unfortunately. You use his shampoo and body wash, which will probably make him happy. When you're finished, you step out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, since you know Mammon keeps some spare clothes for you in his closet. 

He's not in his bed; the cum-stained sheets have been stripped off the bed. He most likely went downstairs to have breakfast. You change quickly, feeling pleased about the smell of his fabric softener on your clothes. You retrieve your bag from the floor, glancing at his bedside table.

A triumphant smile pulls at the corners of your lips as you walk over and pick up the familiar (p/c) purse. You crack it open to check, just in case. The last time he stole your purse, at least half the money in it was missing when it was returned to you. Lucifer had to pay for your lunch hat day.

To your surprise, this time there's a lot more money in there than you last remembered. There's a little note folded up in there as well, written in Mammon's barely legible scrawl. The written words are grudging, like how he would say them out loud to you, but you can feel the love and care from him as well.

Buy yourself something nice. Don't spend it all too quickly.

 Be grateful to the Great Mammon-sama!

The ink looks vaguely familiar. Oh, that's right. It's from one of your missing pens. You don't have the heart to feel irritated at Mammon then. You carefully tuck away the note and money he gave you into your pocket, feeling a content, silly smile spread across your face as you leave his room.

When you get back, you're paying your favourite itchy fingered demon a visit.