Obey – Me: In Persian Blue
A 'Shall we date -Obey me' Fanfic
Author's Note: I cannot get this demon out of my head! Maybe after I wrote this, he can leave me in some semblance of peace.
There are more than enough of them to talk about, but why the hell does the silver haired, blue-eyed demon haunt my rest, I will never know.
More than anything it began with his eyes. I mean they aren't extraordinary. Or at least they weren't to begin with. First I only wanted to figure out what shade they were. So damned familiar. Too bright to be sapphire, too deep to be cyan. Much too vibrant to be just blue. So therein began my obsession. What shade were they, dammit!
I will say this: Lucifer is hot. Oh god I mean like 'melt into a puddle in my shoes and become soup- kind of hot. Ahem, I digress. Even Beelz with his big, hard-muscled self is pretty awesome in his own right. And Satan, be still my heart. And there is no denying that devious Asmodeus, lazy Belphegor and nerdy, adorable Leviathan are not to be left behind.
But damn Mammon. It's illogical! It's idiotic. It makes NO sense why I can't stop staring at him. He draws my eyes like the shiniest, sparkly-est, prettiest trinket in a room full of rubies. It can't just be because he's the epitome of greed. It can't just be because he's dressed to his teeth in the latest fashion threads. I can't be because he IS built like a supermodel. And it certainly can't be because he is loud and obnoxious and attention-grabbing! No one is flashier than Asmo, so why the HELL can't I seem to STOP. OBSESSING. OVER. MAMMON!
It's gotta be those eyes!
"Sweetie?"
Dragging my eyes, almost painfully, I met Asmodeus' saccharine-sweet gaze, his chin in his hands as he smiled at me with sympathy. Maybe it was pity. "You know it's stupid to resist chocolate."
Blinking a the completely random thought, I opened my mouth to ask. Then I realized that nothing Asmo ever said was random. Twisting my mouth, I recounted the past few minutes of my life and realized with a sigh why he would say that. It was the exact shade of Mammon's skin. Warm, frothy, milk chocolate. "You know chocolate rots your teeth."
"Oh but do you know all the lovely things it can do to your insides. There's the elation and the slow, crawling warmth that spreads into every nook and cranny of your very being. The slip and slide of liquid love as it pushes and pulls and thrusts…"
"Asmodeus!" I shoved his shoulder before my brain exploded with his graphic explanation.
The Demon of lust sighed dreamily but winked at me. "You know what I mean."
"Times like this, I wished I was as dumb as Mammon," Satan deadpanned from across the table.
"We all know what you mean Asmo," Beelz shook his head, munching on blood dried popcorn.
Not all. I cast my eyes back to the oblivious demon. His chair swung gently where it balanced on its back legs, his booted feet planted in the middle of his Demon arts book, his latest fashion magazine open in his arms as he poured over pictures of himself. Self-obsessed, unidentifiably-blue eyed, wicked, delicious…
"Chooooocolate," Asmodeus' voice whispered only centimeters away from my ear.
Gritting my teeth, I came out of the chair with a snap, scooping my books in my arms as I fled. "I'll finish in my room." Muttering, blushing and completely rattled, I speed-walked out of the library. Damn Asmodeus' perceptive, tempting damn-it-all-to-hell advise!
"Hey!" I heard the startled cry of his indignant voice. How dare I leave without telling him.
Come on feet! I didn't want to break into a run, but I did speed up my pace as I ducked around the corner.
"Yo, Stop!" When I heard his pounding footsteps, I willed my feet to stop. Because there was no point in trying to outrun him. He was a damned demon and completely relentless when he wanted something. Out of breath, still a little shaken, I clutched the books to my chest as he jogged up to me. "What the hell is the matter with ya? Didn't ya hear me?"
Squeezing my eyes shut, I took a deep breath before leveling my usual, barely tolerant gaze at him. "What do you want?" If only he knew why it was barely tolerant, basically bordering on pouncing.
Scratching the back of his head, the ruffled down, soft hair falling into his forehead, he seesawed between awkward and audacious. I added another factoid for my 'crazy things I find adorable about Mammon' list. "What's got your panties in a twist?"
"My panties are the last thing you need to be talking about," I scowled and turned on my heel to stalk to my room It was a good thing he was used to my lack of patience with him. But despite how we verbally sparred, he was the closest thing to a 'friend' in my new predicament.
"You think I WANT to talk about your filthy human frillies?" Hands shoved into the pockets of his brown leather jacket, his books and magazines tucked under his elbow, he let his lanky legs follow me easily as I tromped away in annoyance. But I wasn't really mad at him. He was just being himself. I was mad at my myself. "Hmph. As if. I just don't understand why you're being all pissy. Not that I..uh..really c-care. Ahem. Your gloom and doom is worse than Levi's these days. It's messing with my Karma."
"You don't have Karma, Mammon."
"I do too!"
Rolling my eyes, I opened my bedroom door and dumped my books on the table and discarded my uniform jacket on the back of a chair before turning and walked nose-first into his chest. "OOF! Mammon! What the hell! Stop following me!"
Smirking down at me where I stood rubbing my nose, he lifted a hand and slid the pad of his thumb over the round tip, almost affectionately. Every single nerve ending in my body began to sing 'hallelujah'. "Following you. Right." He snickered before tipping his yellow Ray ban's low on his nose and leveled those problematic eyes down at him. The exact color still eluded me, but so did sanity because I was caught like a deer in headlights as he leaned down. "The great Mammon does not follow humans. Humans gravitate towards Mammon like flies ta honey," he purred.
"Gravitate. That's a big word for you." If only my brain wasn't slowly turning to mush itself.
"What's this? 'Pick on Mammon day?' Hmph." Dropping his own books on the table, he walked deeper into my room, dropping into the throw pillows facing my Tv.
"Sounds like a party," I covered the huskiness of my voice with annoyance. "Could you please leave? I have assignments to do."
"Pfft!" The demon rolled his eyes and picked up the remote. "If it was assignments on your mind human, you'd still be in that musty old library."
I stilled. Fear and dread built low in my stomach. No. There was no way he knew what was bothering me. God just couldn't be that cruel. "What's on my mind?"
Lounging there in all his glory, the Demon of Greed, grinned toothily, his fangs flashing in the light of my bedside lamp. "Showering me with love."
My world tilted, breath halting in my chest. "What?"
"I know Lucifer just paid you your allowance. And you're just dying to spend it all on my greatness." Pulling down his glasses again, he leveled those liquid blue eyes at me. "So, let's see them lovelies."
Any foreboding that could have built caught fire in my veins. Fists clenched by my sides, I stalked over, picked up one of the stray cushions and smacked him with as much strength as I could muster. I didn't know if I was angry because he hadn't been able to discern my tender emotions or furious that he was asking me for a loan. AGAIN!
"AWO! HeAWO! What the fuAWO! The greaYOW!" Arms up, the demon tried to scramble away, tangling, tripping in the floor cushions as he crawled. "Woman!"
Now less angry and more vindictive, I leered as the cushion smacked him perfectly on that beautiful ass and nearly sent him sprawling across my floor.
"Storm! DammiOOF! Will you…" He got one hand on the edge of my bed and my cushion became less square and more like a ball as it continued to bean him where ever it could reach. Clambering to his feet by the foot of my bed was a mistake. Laughing manically now, I swung with all my might and caught him straight in his wild-eyed, scowling face. "D`AHHHH!" Letting out a rather undignified squawk, he hit my mattress in a flurry of curses.
I should have stopped. I really should have taken a calming breath and let it go at just that. But like I said, I'd never known when to stop with this guy. There was something infinitely satisfying in finally letting out every single ounce of frustration he imbued in me. Like a woman possessed, I clambered up after him, uncaring of where my knees landed as I increased the speed of my blows. And that was probably where I made my first mistake.
With a snarl of frustration, one of his hands closed around my wrist. While I switched strategy and stuffed my cushion into his face with all my weight, I realized with belated lamentation just how open I had left myself. The hand that had been holding my wrist snaked down and wrapped around my waist, the other grabbing the cushion and Mammon bucked his hips once. Hard.
Everything exploded into starlight and supernovas.
I don't remember when he yanked the cushion away, his arms wrapped around my upper body, holding me captive against him, those blue eyes furious and one other, darker emotion, I had never seen on him before.
"Are ya stupid, human!? Do ya KNOW who the hell I am!?"
I would have answered him. Maybe I would have stammered, or raged, but I was unable to do anything. And even though I was a burning inferno after he'd unwittingly (perhaps deliberately, who could ever tell with him) bucked his hips right into mine, he'd pushed us together in one perfectly positioned raunchy grind. And oh dear god, he was still RIGHT there! The teenaged, hormone-induced diva lifted her head with a lazy yawn as panic flooded through me. Stop it, I willed her. She blinked away and caught sight of the chocolate colored demon, albeit glaring, up at her. STOP it, I commanded her as she began to stretch and fill my very being, shifting my torso to better feel the girth of him under me. Please stop, I screeched with pleading horror as Mammon finally realized exactly what he'd done.
"Storm?"
It was that utterance of my name on his tongue that threw it all to hell. It was not a common occurrence. I was used to being human, girl, woman, nobody. The few times he did use my name set my teeth on edge. Today, laced with a tinge of concern and roughened by the realization of just how intimately we were still pressed together, I went down in flames.
My neck had been screaming in in strain since I'd been doing my damnedest to keep from head-butting him. Now, I let the muscles relax with a moan and let gravity do the rest.
The demon under me let out a shocked breath as my mouth come down crashing into him.
Damn Asmodeus!
Because he was right.
Mammon was chocolate. Thick, sweet, heady and intoxicating chocolate. And I, like the four year old raiding the pantry ate like the spirit of Beelzbub had possessed me.
His perfectly sculpted mouth was meant to be savored, not devoured like I was doing. But I had never been able to moderate anything in my life. I felt the hard press of his arms around me once and the demon let out a tiny whine under me, his body shuddering as my tongue traced the seam of his mouth. Let me in, it demanded.
There was a hiss of his breath and I met the barrier of his teeth. My tongue pushed, my fingers clawed into the lapels of his jacket. Let. Me. In. I growled low in my throat.
His mouth opened with a shuttered moan and I dove in, lapping up the dark chocolate center of him. Drawing him into the gluttony of my need, until I felt him shunt those hips up against me again, turning me into the melty puddle I had never wanted to be. Melty puddles are hard to keep from crawling all over the place.
My mouth slanting on his, my hands moved up, plunged into the downy softness of his hair. Twisting, pulling on the strands, eliciting another delicious moan from the demon now fitfully running his hands over every inch of me.
It was his fist that wrapped around my ponytail and pulled. My mouth left his with a reluctant little 'pop' as I groaned at the loss of contact. Who needs breath when you can have his kiss? Breath is totally over-rated.
"Whoa there human," Mammon chuckled huskily, my eyes still trained on the wet chocolaty goodness of his mouth. "I'm up here, ya know."
Reluctantly, I huffed and lifted my gaze up to his eyes. A soft curse died in my lungs as I stared down at him. His eyes. I now knew what color they were.
Because he was laying there under me, sprawled and smirking, his glasses fallen off to god only knew where. And with his head pillowed on my bed I realized his eyes…they were the exact shade of my bed sheet.
Persian blue.
Sheets he had given me and explained were a very rare, awesome 'Persian blue'. And then the various colors of my room began to make sense. The yellow cushions, the white fluffy bed throw, the brown suede of the comfy couch. All of which he had helped me pick out. I was surrounded by him. "Uh…Mammon?"
"Yeah babe."
Startled at the new nickname, I blinked at him. "Did you just call me…"
"We did kiss." He purred. "Bout time, I'd say. Been danglin' myself hopefully under your nose for months."
My mouth fell open as I stared at him in horror. "Are you…did you…from the beginning you…GAH!"
"Hell yeah. The Great Mammon never makes a bad investment." Mirth danced in those Persian blue eyes as his arms wrapped around me before I could do more harm. He rolled me underneath, his tongue snaking out to flick against my jaw, hips pressing exactly where he knew would make me mindless. "These sheets alone I had custom made. Now shut up and bask in the chocolaty sexiness that is me."
"I'm going kiluMMUPHH!"
It began with my obsession with his eyes. But there was only one way to survive Mammon and his vile, conniving schemes – to join him.
And I did. Oh boy did I join him. Many, many times in Persian blue.
THE END